Read High Intensity Online

Authors: Dara Joy

Tags: #Romance

High Intensity (16 page)

Todd's brow furrowed.

"You didn't know about the secret passageway?" Tyber was skeptical.

"Not that one. There are several of them in the house, though most of them are under the closed wing. I've had plenty of nightmares about guests discovering a secret panel and getting lost or hurt inside for days before being discovered. Thank goodness that wing is completely sealed up on that side of the house. When I have time, I'm going to map out and mark off the dangerous areas. That's one reason why we haven't renovated over there yet."

That answered several of their questions. Todd would be concerned for his guests' safety. But Tyber wondered what the other reasons were.

"Who's we?" Tyber shrewdly asked.

"What?"

"You said, 'we haven't.'"

"Oh, that would be Sasenfras."

"Who?" Tyber and Zanita asked at once.

"Sasenfras. He's my caretaker. You haven't met him yet, have you? Dotty old coot, but pretty dependable. Been with my family forever. He came with the house."

"You mean as in 'including all furnishings and Sasenfras'?"

Todd smiled. "Something like that. Do you think the hidden passage had anything to do with the poltergeist activity last night?"

"It might. We'd like to talk to this Sasenfras, if we could."

"Sure; but he's mostly around here during the day. He doesn't like being here at night because of the ghost. Sasenfras is very superstitious, I'm afraid. He's probably already left for the evening."

"Where does he live?"

"He's got a small cottage near the bluffs. I can give you directions later, if you want to go see him after dinner. It's a nice walk."

"That'll be great."

"I'm impressed you found that passageway, Tyber. Clever of you to keep silent about it. You two are good! Now, just find the ghost and get rid of him for me and I'll cook you the best squash lobster bisque you ever had. Blooey told me how much you love squash, Tyber."

Zanita grinned broadly. "Deal!"

Tyber was much more subdued.

"You missed cocktails, but we were just going in to dinner. It's
chicken l'orange
tonight."

Zanita licked her lips. "That's my favorite!"

"I know; Blooey told me." He smiled back at her.

As they followed him toward the dining room, Tyber casually asked him, "Do you know anyone by the name of
Nan
or
Nancy
? Past or present."

"No. Can't say that I do. Why do you ask?" Todd glanced over his shoulder at Tyber as he led them through the parlor.

"No particular reason." Tyber gave Zanita a "let's keep that one to ourselves for now" look.

"By the way, Zanita, who is that outrageous woman with the three hats?"

"Umm, that's my aunt, Todd."

"Ah! I met her at lunch. She was sitting in the dining room, waiting to be served like the Queen of Prussia, actually."

Zanita swallowed. That was Auntie. The world was her oyster. "Was she very, um… demanding?"

"Oh, hell, yes." Todd waved it away. "But I adored the diva anyway. She's mar-r-r-r-velous!"

Zanita laughed.

Everyone was just sitting down at the table when they entered the dining room.

"Hey, you missed the
hors d'oeuvres
, you two." Mark winked suggestively at them.

Zanita blushed again.

"Horrors! Look at your clothes!" Auntie gave them both a disapproving sniff.

"We were out doing some of our own investigating this afternoon." Tyber handed Mark the bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Find anything interesting?" Hubble served himself a large helping of chicken 1'orange.

"Not really," Tyber hedged. His eyes met Todd's across the table, signaling him that it might be best to keep the knowledge of the passageways hidden for the time being. The chef nodded slightly. He was still a suspect in Tyber's book; Tyber just hoped Todd wasn't involved. The guy was too damn likable and he cooked a mean
chicken l'orange
. Chicken.

"Great dish, Todd. Are these birds free-range?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, Tyber, they are. One of my neighbors here on the island raises chickens. We often swap. Some of the herbs and vegetables from my garden for his birds. Works out very well."

"I've mentioned something similar to Blooey; thought he'd like to do a swap with a local farmer near us."

Blooey stared at Tyber agog. "Captain, you never—oomph!" Tyber kicked him under the table. "That is, you never know until you try it."

Todd refilled the plate of steamed beans on the table and took his seat.

"I recommend it very highly, Blooey. Just know who you're dealing with and it works beautifully. Almost like a cooperative."

Tyber took a bite of his meat. "Does your neighbor dress them for you?"

"God, no. I have to do that myself. But I prefer to sacrifice convenience for quality and freshness."

"Gads, let's not talk any more about dressing and undressing fowl! I don't mind eating the beady-eyed, filthy things on occasion, but surely there is better table talk."

Tyber threw Auntie a murderous look from beneath veiled lashes. He'd been trying to lead Todd down a specific path of questioning, and the Barracuda had just put an end to it. Aunts!

Zanita watched her husband curiously, wondering what all the chicken talk was about. Whatever it was, he was steaming. She decided to take some of the heat off Auntie by asking Calendula, "So what's on the agenda for tonight?"

The parapsychologist looked very tired, and Zanita wondered if the woman had slept at all. Calendula carefully patted her lips before replying, "The same as last night. Since the equipment is already set up and calibrated, it'll be a little smoother for us."

"Did you get any abnormal readings today?"

"No, nothing; but I wasn't expecting any. Todd said that nothing occurred today to upset his dinner preparations, and I'm not surprised after all that activity last night. We often see periods of quiet after heavy activity."

"I can't wait to experience this!" Auntie clapped her hands together. "Why, when Zanita told me… what's that, dear?" She looked down at Hambone, who miraculously gave her the sweetest of cat looks. She gave him a tiny piece of chicken. "Here you go, darling. Now where was I? Oh, yes, the ghost! This is sooo mar-r-r-r-velous! You know, Todd, I am going to tell all my friends about this wonderful place! Not only is the food fabu-u-u-u-lous and the accommodations superb, but a ghost!"

"Now, Auntie, I don't think Todd wants that to become common knowledge. He's trying to get rid of the ghost, remember?"

Auntie dismissed the notion. "Of course he's trying to get rid of it. That won't matter. Just the idea that there was a ghost here will bring them in droves. Do you mind, dear boy?"

"Well… I suppose not," Todd mumbled.

Auntie gave Zanita a pointed look, which was meant to convey a secret message. The old dear was trying to help them by ferreting out a motive, and she was right. If word did get out, Todd would be mobbed by curiosity seekers. Which placed him high up on the suspect list again.

She glanced at Tyber to signal him, but the Doc was watching Hambone as he pranced with his prize piece of chicken to the corner of the room to dine alone with the purloined goods.

What good was all this dinner-table signaling if you couldn't get the person's attention? Zanita groused to herself.

"So far, I have not seen one thing that comes close to convincing me that anything paranormal is going on here." Hubble had the annoying habit of speaking with his mouth full.

"What about all the activity last night? Don't tell me you can dismiss that, Hubble." Mark bristled.

"On the contrary. I simply don't believe that its origins were supernatural. Take those noises that you insisted were ghostly raps. I did some investigating myself and discovered them to be nothing more than some cellar pipes expanding and contracting with the heat."

Tyber caught Zanita's attention and nodded slightly. He had pointed that out to her earlier.

"You see, my dear"—Hubble gestured expansively, speaking directly to Auntie—"there is always a logical explanation to be found."

Zanita looked back and forth between the two of them. It seemed her aunt had made a conquest during cocktails. Zanita wasn't surprised. Auntie always attracted the scientist types.

Across the table, Tyber shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Well, some scientist types.

As Zanita watched, a framed photo of Todd standing in front of a famous culinary school slid across the top of the sideboard, crashing to the floor. Her mouth dropped open.

The others jumped at the sound. "Whatever was that?" Auntie turned around, looking everywhere for the culprit.

"A picture just slid across the sideboard," Zanita croaked, still shocked at what she had witnessed.

They all gazed down at the smashed picture.

"Must have been a plane overhead or a truck going by on the main road which caused a heavy vibration," Hubble surmised.

There was the infamous truck theory! "I don't think so." Zanita met her husband's eyes.

"Why not, baby?"

"Because I watched it scoot all the way across the top of the sideboard as if it were being pushed along by an unseen hand before it toppled over."

"Call to arms! Call to arms! There's a bloomin' phantom on board!" Blooey crossed his eyes and fainted dead away.

As he watched the spectacle of his rotund cook falling off his chair to the carpeted floor, Tyber deadpanned, "Oh, the humanity."

Zanita and Tyber hiked through the mixed oak and cedar woods under the moonlight, following a well-laid path through the Menemsha Hills. Tyber had brought his flashlight but didn't need it. The moonlight was lighting their way perfectly.

They both thought it was a lovely walk. Through a break in the trees, Tyber pointed out some white-tailed deer taking their evening feed.

"No, there are no poisonous snakes on this island."

"That's good to know." Zanita grinned at him because he had anticipated her question. They were so in tune sometimes, it was eerie.

The corners of his lips curled. "There are, however, lot of ticks." He gestured to the deer. "And deer ticks, at that. Fortunately, it's cold enough not to have to worry about Lyme disease."

They rounded a bend; below them was a gorgeous lake. Zanita's nemeseis, the
Canada
geese, were honking their collective heads off. A few black-crowned night herons were still about.

"This is turning into a real adventure, Doc. Isn't this island fabulous? It's so beautiful here!"

"Yes, it is. Maybe we should buy a winter home here?"

"A winter home? Don't you mean a summer home?"

"Why be like everybody else?" He grinned at her. "I like the solitude out here right now. With you.

"True." She snorted. "Not that I could afford even an outhouse on this island."

Tyber stopped. "Baby, we can afford it. We're married, remember?"

"For the time being."

He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. "For all time."

"We'll see."

He frowned at her.

She put her palm on his wide chest. "I admit that so far you are doing a very good job of presenting the unexpected. But the weekend isn't over yet. Sooner or later we'll turn into the epitome of the Mundanes, a married couple trudging wearily through life doing the same thing over and over again because it's expected, not unlike those poor, doomed creatures in Dante's Inferno."

"You are twisted."

"I know."

"I love it." He grinned.

"I know."

"Now, what would your aunt say if you announced we suddenly aren't married anymore?" he drawled.

"Oh, she fully expects it. I told her all about our challenge."

"You what?" Tyber groaned. "I wish you hadn't done that."

"Why not?"

"It's, ah, embarrassing." That was not all it was. It was Trouble with a capital T. Especially since there were some things a barracuda aunt should not guess before the wife does.

"Phooey. She completely understands. After all, she is a Masterson."

"No doubt there," Tyber grumbled.

"You might think twice about shackling yourself to us. We have a genetic disorder of some kind that makes us all, ah, nonlinear—only in different ways."

"
Ill
take my chances with the dreaded blight." He glanced at her derriere playfully. "Especially when it's such a cute little awesome pest… i… lence."

Zanita wagged her finger in his face, but she was smiling slightly. "Your call. Don't say you weren't warned."

"Okay."

They walked along for a bit, enjoying the soft crunch of the snow underfoot. Puffs of air left trails of steam breath as they took in the winter night by the sea on the Vineyard.

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