out?”
“I have one last checkup with the veterinarian, so I won’t leave until the afternoon.”
Federico frowned. “I can leave Ricardo here to stay with you. He can catch a commercial flight the next day.”
“I wouldn’t think of such a thing.” Tinkie’s glitzed hair bobbed with the vehemence of her answer. “I’ll be perfectly fine.”
“I’ve offered to stay and so has Graf,” I said.
“It’s a checkup for Chablis. There’s no need to worry, and I’ll only be a few hours later than you guys in taking off.”
Conversation buzzed back to a mild roar, and I found myself leaning against Graf, feeling the reassurance of his strong chest as my support. For many women, this might be the norm. For me, it was a moment to treasure. I wasn’t the leaning kind-but it was nice to find someone solid when I did.
We broke up early, all eager to conclude in Costa Rica and head back to the States. Graf, Tinkie, and I volunteered to put the kitchen to rights and we set about our chores after the others went to attend last-minute chores.
“It’s been a wonderful trip,” Tinkie said as she dried the plates I’d just washed.
“Right. It isn’t every day you get knocked on the head and your dog kicked.” I gave her a grin to show I was kidding.
“No, this is a lovely place. Your coworkers are wonderful, Sarah Booth. This has been an experience. I’m sure Millie and Cece will pump me for information as soon as I get home.”
“Make it up, and make us look good,” Graf suggested. He was cutting the remains of a steak into tiny little bites for Chablis.
“Maybe I’ll just take you and Sarah Booth home to show them what a nice couple you make.”
There were so many things I wanted to say in answer to this, but I kept silent. I wasn’t certain where my life would take me, and I made no promises.
We finished the cleanup and headed to our rooms. Chablis had fallen asleep, and we were all tired. Our lives would change yet again in another few hours. I wondered if I was getting better at handling these sudden shifts, or if since I’d torn my roots from the soil of Sunflower County, I would forever be rootless. The prospect of that made me want to snuggle into Graf’s arms and hide.
We went to bed, exhausted, but not too far gone to forget that this was our last night in Costa Rica. We made love slowly and with care for each other. Graf could be both fiery and tender, and he was always a surprise. He aroused me with kisses that were sweet and familiar, and in other new ways. In bed with him, I had the sense that time stood still for us. Curled together, we fell asleep.
The room was filled with darkness when I awakened. It took me a moment to realize the thrum and hammer I heard was the sound of Graf’s heart. My ear was pressed against his chest and his arms held me protectively. But there was another noise. A soft whimper, like someone crying in an empty church, broke and rippled around me. There was the dull thud, like the fictional John’s head thudding down uncarpeted stairs in that old black-and-white movie. It was impossible to tell if the sounds were noncorporeal or real.
My first impulse was to nudge Graf awake, but instead I eased from bed. The sounds were elusive. I heard them, but maybe I was imagining it. Grabbing a robe, I slipped out into the hallway.
I heard the eerie keening again, so soft that it almost wasn’t there. It echoed, as if it came from a chest devoid of heart and lungs. Almost as if it rippled from the very walls themselves. It was impossible to tell which direction it came from. I had the sense that I’d stepped into
Creeping along the hallway, I didn’t make a sound. Movement in a recessed doorway made me freeze.
Someone was in the hallway. Hiding.
I paused for a few seconds. If this was the woman in red, I intended to catch her. If it was Estelle, then our mysteries would be mostly resolved.
Tensing my muscles, I launched myself forward, turning and diving into the small hidden area. My forehead connected with something solid and sharp, and I let out a yelp and struck the locked door of an empty bedroom with my shoulder. Slowly, I sank to the floor, momentarily stunned.
“My God, Sarah Booth!”
I recognized Tinkie’s voice instantly, but when I looked up, she was slightly out of focus. She held one of her stiletto heels in a tight grip.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were attacking me.” She sank down beside me and her fingertips brushed at my forehead, which was beginning to throb. “I clocked you. Let’s go to the kitchen and put some ice on that.”
“You hit me?” I was a little slow to gather the facts.
“With my shoe. The heel sort of dug a hole in the center of your forehead.” She cleared her throat. “I’m afraid it’s not going to be very attractive tomorrow.”
I wasn’t worried about my looks, I was afraid that I’d been lobotomized. “I don’t think I can stand.” I wasn’t playing the pity card, either. Tinkie had brought that shoe down with force.
She got me under my arms and helped me to my feet. Tinkie is only shoulder height on me, but she’s all wiry muscle. We ambled down the hallway, pausing at the stairs. I wasn’t sure if I could make it or not.
“Shall I get Graf?” she asked.
“No.” I felt slightly foolish. “I’ll be fine.” To prove it, I took the stairs slowly. By the time we got to the kitchen, my forehead was on fire and my ears were ringing.
Tinkie made an ice pack and we sat at the table while I chilled my wound.
“I’m so sorry. I heard this scary sound and I went to investigate. Then I heard someone following behind me. I assumed it was Estelle or whoever has been attacking people. So I hid and waited.” She bit her bottom lip.
“It’s okay.” The ice was helping. “I would have done the same thing.”
“What is that noise?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t know much. I’d just had my brains scrambled. “But if I had to guess, I’d say this house has a past. A tragic past.” The truth was, the sounds I’d heard scared me.
“It’s so sad, Sarah Booth. Do you think it’s a ghost?”
This was the same question I’d posed to Jitty, and her answer had been totally unsatisfactory. Yet I was about to give it to Tinkie.
“I can’t say.”
“Do you believe in ghosts, Sarah Booth?”
Her question was asked with such innocence. Like a child asking about Santa Claus. “Yes. Unequivocally.” That question I didn’t have to dodge.
“Then this crying person in the house could really be a ghost. Someone who’s here because she can’t leave. That would be terrible, to be dead and be caught between that world and this one.”
Jitty didn’t seem to mind, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Caught here or staying here voluntarily, I think ghosts can stay behind to help, or for revenge.”
“Good and bad ghosts, just like people.” She smiled, and I could see the fatigue in the tender skin under her eyes.
“Right. Just like people.”
“This ghost, I think we should help her.”
I was stunned. Tinkie had always disavowed a belief in the supernatural. But then I remembered Tinkie’s interest in one of our clients, a woman named Doreen Mallory, who was said to heal people. Tinkie had found a breast lump, but somehow she’d convinced herself that she could heal it herself. The bottom line was that when we finally convinced Tinkie to address the lump with a medical doctor, it was gone. Vanished. Dissipated. Tinkie had never claimed that the lump had been healed. She simply said nothing. Now she wanted to assist dead people.
“How can we help a ghost?” I asked.
“First we have to find out why she’s haunting this house.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” My forehead was swelling, and I was feeling cranky.
“We ask her.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I’ll wait here and hold the ice on my forehead while you track her down and ask her what the problem is.”
“You are grouchy when you’re in pain. I’ll be sure and tell Graf, just in case you try to talk him into natural
