Dreamscape (16 page)

Jason read the ledgers and grew angry. Since James’s death there had been an unmistakable increase in expenditures. It appeared this Mr. Paxton was bent on sabotage.

“Mr. Paxton feels I don’t know enough of the business to be able to turn a profit. And perhaps he’s right. I’m thinking I should sell rather than have my ineptitude tear my father’s life’s work down to the bricks. At least in another man’s hands there’d be a chance the mill would continue on successfully.”

With her intelligent, well-ordered mind she was hardly inept. Paxton was obviously trying to get her to believe that she was. Jason tapped the ledger, annoyed. “Your first order of business should be giving Mr. Paxton his walking papers. The man is deliberately trying to make it appear you’re in over your head.”

Lanie thought,
But what if I am in over my head?
How could she ever explain to Jason the conversation she’d overheard at the factory today when she didn’t understand it herself?

Jason knew her well enough by now to sense when she was holding something back. He pressed, “I can help you, you know. No matter what the issue. No matter the question.”

She gave him a small smile.

Trying another approach, he said, “I have a proposal for you, Lanie.”

“A proposal?”

“I want to help you to maintain your father’s holdings. I believe if we work together as partners these investments will prosper.” She didn’t comment. “I see your heart has no desire to sell, therefore I believe there is more than meets the eye. I’ll venture a guess. You have a concern about your father’s foreman.”

“You’re right, Jason. It does concern Mr. Paxton. I overheard something today, something that I don’t quite understand.”

“What did you hear?”

“I’m not really sure. It was something Mr. Paxton told another man when I left his office. I was just outside the door.”

“What did the man say?”

“He said something about tipping velvet.” Shrugging, she shook her head, confused.

Jason blinked. “Could you recall it word for word?”

Drawing the memory, she repeated, “He said, ‘You watch. I’ll be tipping her sweet velvet before that chit’s gone from here.’ I don’t understand what it is he’s talking about. As the conversation took place in the mill, my natural conclusion was he referred to cloth. But it was the way he said it. Then, too, he added ‘when the chit’s gone from here’ to his statement.” That he’d referred to her as a chit, a child, told her he’d never respect her authority.

Jason was incredulous. “He said
that
?”

She was really confused now. Jason looked furious. “Yes, what does it mean?”

“It’s not for a lady’s ears.”

She put her hand on his arm. “What does it
mean
?”

Jason seethed. He himself had done what the bastard foreman had hinted at, but as marvelous an act as it was, it still wasn’t polite conversation between a man and a woman who’d only met that afternoon in her dream view of his era. “Lanie, I…”

“By your reaction I can tell his was not a polite comment. If we are to be partners, Jason, I insist I’m kept informed. Please, I really dislike being in the dark.”

“Lanie, really…”

“I
insist
. I assure you, as I’m a doctor, very little shocks me.” Her lovely sky-blue eyes beseeched him. “Please, explain it?”

Seeing an opportunity at redirection, he lied. “I had no idea you were Doctor O’Keefe.”

Lanie laughed. “Yes, you did, and you are stalling, sir.”

He smiled.

Her heart tripped at his very handsome smile, and with the flutter came a confusing emotion. She pushed it away. She couldn’t possibly feel that for a married man
.
“Jason…”
She narrowed her eyes.

He chuckled, thinking
Good lord you’re lovely.
Seeing the determination in those impossibly blue depths, he explained, “Very well. As you know there are many ways a man and woman may couple…”

Having never been married, Lanie’s cheeks pinkened. She did know, in
theory
. “And?”

Jason searched her face. God help him, he wanted her, wanted to kiss those soft, sweet lips, wanted to lay her back and lift her skirts, wanted to spread her thighs and lose himself in the heat he knew smoldered there. He wanted to taste her again, all of her. The thought made his words came out warmer than he meant them to. “To tip the velvet is to couple in the style of the French.”

She sipped her sherry again. His voice held a compelling tone but she had no idea of what he spoke. “The French?”

Jason’s cock was starting to feel huge in his trousers. He chose his next words carefully. “A man places his mouth to a woman’s sex and there he kisses and licks her flesh to bring her pleasure.”

She choked on her wine and struggled to breathe. Taking the glass from her hand he immediately patted her on the back.

“Why that
loathsome
man…” she sputtered, a keen wash of embarrassment making her feel overly warm.

“Another reason to send him on his way.”

“Absolutely.” She looked at him then, her cheeks still very warm from his explanation. “I accept, Jason.” Holding out her hand for him to shake, she added with a smile. “Partner.”

Taking her small hand in his own, he gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes dancing, he replied, “Partner.”

Somewhere, an odd song was playing. She looked at him, confused.

Her conscious mind coming aware, Lanie’s hand swung out to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. The melodic ringtone she had set for Lexie had woken her from a very interesting dream. “Hello, Lex, what’s up? Good God, what time is it?”

“Hey, sorry to call so early. It’s just now 7:00, but I’ll be in Philly all day and didn’t want to forget to tell you what I found last night.”

Lanie yawned. “What’s that?”

“Jason had a housekeeper—Addy Fairfax. Apparently she was his mother’s maid and helped look after him after he went to live with his Aunt Celia. They were close.”

How odd, I was dreaming about Addy.
“So what did you find out about Addy Fairfax?”

“Here, let me read you this. ‘By all accounts it appeared Doctor Bowen’s housekeeper, Addy Marie Fairfax, left in the middle of the night and took a good portion of the silver service with her.’ Sheriff John Burke, a long time friend of the good doctor, is quoted as saying, ‘This is utter nonsense. I know Addy. She’s devoted to that family, has been for more than thirty years. And I know for a fact the good woman did not draw a penny of salary the whole time Jackson Bowen was at war. That she’d steal is ludicrous.’ Dr. Bowen’s maiden aunt, Celia Pemberly, was also quoted as saying ‘This is outrageous. Why Addy Fairfax doesn’t possesses a dishonest bone in her entire body. If anyone were to ask me, I’d say they might look closer to home. I won’t say more than that. But mark my words, there is something afoul there.’
Do you see what I’m seeing? They bumped off the housekeeper, too!”

“You’re thinking Cathy and her new husband Richard got rid of the housekeeper?”

“Yeah, maybe Addy caught them in the act of murdering Jason.”

The mention of his name had Lanie suddenly remembering she’d met Jason in the flesh last night, well maybe not in the flesh but certainly the essence of him. “Wow. Thanks, Lexie. Great detective work.”

“I’ll have more, I’m sure. There’s more than half a box to sort through yet. Well, I gotta run. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you, too.” Lanie set the phone down. She sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” she asked the silent room.

Jason sat nearby, but his mind was elsewhere.
Did they murder Addy, too?
His gut told him yes.
What had she seen? Had she overheard their plot? Had she witnessed his murder? Poor Addy.
He wondered then if somehow he was meant to relive it all through Lanie’s dreams. To what end, though? He was dead, and so was Addy.

The ghost of Jason Bowen didn’t appear and there was a moment when Lanie thought she might have actually been dreaming their entire meeting and conversation of the night before. After all she was also dreaming about him in his time in the 1880s. The whole thing was strange. She remembered the phrase
tipping the velvet
, a phrase she’d never in her life heard before, and she wondered if her mind made that up.

Recalling the dream—Jason’s explanation made her feel lightheaded. In this life the only sexual experience she possessed was kissing and a little fondling. She’d never had oral sex before. Dreamed it, yes, but experienced it, no. The dream image of a body sliding over hers on her bed brought on a throb between her legs. In that particular dream the man treated her to such incredible sensations with his hands and mouth she was more than ready for anything that would follow.

Her playground tormentors all those years before had contributed to her avoiding the usual boy-girl relationships all through high school, college, and med school. She didn’t look at herself as skittish. She just had a very clear idea of what she didn’t want. There had been dating, but her college boyfriends got tired of having a girlfriend who wouldn’t go all the way. She’d liked them all, but she didn’t love them, so that was fine by her. By the time she got to med school there was no free time for relationships. Her internship took up all the time she had. The simple fact was, no one caught her eye. Then too she had to admit her dream man was a hard act to follow, especially now when her dreams had finally allowed them to interact with one another.

Chapter 16

Closing the cellar door behind her, Lanie put her hands on her lower spine and arched backward with a groan. The day had been a virtual whirlwind of activity.

The concrete was scheduled for Monday, and Zack’s crew had spent the day readying the ground for the clinic’s foundation while his brothers, nephews, and brothers-in-law tackled the cellar. They had no idea the cellar would take so many days to empty, and they were now racing the clock. Lanie heard from more than one man today how they were glad the task began days ago instead of trying to tackle it all in one day. Because the cement truck would have nowhere to park once the clinic’s parking slab went in, Zack planned on pouring the cellar floor at the same time they did the sidewalk, the handicap ramp, and the clinic’s foundation. It was an ambitious plan to say the least.

Feeling the fatigue of the others, Lanie finally said enough was enough. Ben argued the point, saying they could get the whole thing done by nine that night, eleven o’clock at the latest. But Lanie insisted. It was Friday and everyone needed to go home. Despite her insistence, he wasn’t budging. In the end she came up with an idea. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket she dialed Lexie. “Hey, Lex.”

“Hey, sweetie, what’s up?”

“I’m stuck, Lexie, and I wouldn’t ask but…”

Lexie cut in, “Of course.”

Lanie laughed. “You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

Lexie could hear her friend’s smile when she replied, “Do I have to? You need help in the cellar. I looked down the stairs, remember?”

Ten minutes later Lexie and Pete had arranged to help Lanie on the weekend, and Ben was satisfied enough to let the guys go home.

“Okay, kiddo, I’m leaving. But listen,
be
careful. Don’t be lifting heavy things. Just work around them, and the guys will haul them out early on Monday before the cement comes. We have to rake down there anyway, so Zack will be sending them over early.”

“How early?”

He smiled at her. “Figure the cement will get here between nine and ten o’clock.”

“Okay, early then. I’ll be up.”

“Right, we’ll be here at first light.” At her wide eyes, he laughed. “Okay, seven.”

“First light.”
Lanie punched him in the arm. She heard him laughing all the way up the stairs.

A short time later, Lanie sat on the cellar stairs, attempting to eat a turkey sandwich for dinner. Arm muscles aching, she could barely lift it to her mouth. From her perch on the stairs she could see the far side of the cellar still had a small mass of tangled wooden chairs, a broken table, old bedsprings and who knew what else. It was hard to imagine the Masons being packrats, but the mountain of stuff…
sheesh
. For the past two days, a bucket brigade of manpower passed crate and chair and twisted trash hand to hand to clear it out. After calling the scrap man, she arranged for them to take the mountainous stacks of recyclable metal. All usable furniture was picked over by the guys, and surprisingly there was very little left that wasn’t total garbage. The pile of burnables grew to the point where she asked Ben to build her a fire ring of brick and fieldstone in the back yard. She planned to invite the whole Danowski clan over for a bonfire and weenie roast when the work was finally done.

With Lexie and Pete’s help through the weekend, they’d finish. What a wonderful bunch of friends she had. Hoisting her weary self off the top step, she wondered about her other friend the ghost. He hadn’t reappeared since their conversation about Max, and it had her wondering again. Was it possible she was delusional and dreamed the whole thing to begin with?