High Intensity (14 page)

"Hmm? Yes, I think so, Auntie."

"How wonderful!" She clapped her hands together.

"He's so good at this. I don't know why he always pretends to be doing something else when I ask him if he wants to investigate something of a paranormal nature…"

"I will help, of course. I'm mar-r-r-velous at these undercover things."

"I think he really likes it but won't admit it-stubborn pirate that he is."

"What do we do first?" Auntie's eyes flashed behind her "fashion-plated" chrome and rhine-stone glasses.

"We?" Zanita snapped to attention, peering at the woman sitting opposite her. "And when did you start wearing glasses?"

"Oh, these are the latest thing. Sort of an Elton-Marilyn look."

"You can't help us, Auntie! This is very complicated."

"Nonsense. I helped you with that eel LaLeche, didn't I? Reeled the piranha in like so much fish!"

Zanita bit her lip. Tyber was not going to be happy about this.

Auntie stood up just as Tyber was coming through the door with her drink. She grabbed the glass of bourbon as she passed him on her way out, saying, "Ghost-busting! How mar-r-r-r-velous! Had no idea that lovely boy Todd was haunted! This is going to be so much fun. See you at dinner, children. Ta-ta!"

Tyber's mouth opened as the big kahuna Auntie wave gathered momentum and rolled to shore.

Then his head snapped back to his wife. "What did she mean—see you at dinner? She's not…" A horrified expression crossed his face. "Tell me she's not."

"Now, Doc, she was very good with LaLeche."

"That's because he could not be classified as human." He paused, thinking over his own insightful words. "I suppose if anyone can lure a denizen of the dark out of hiding, it's her."

"Tyber! Stop that. You know you love Auntie."

"Mmmm-hmm. The same as I love squash."

It was time to throw her genius off by diverting him. "By the way, what was that second reason?"

The ice-blue eyes clouded over and he rubbed his ear. A sure sign he was hiding something. "What second reason?"

"You know, when I asked you why we were making love under the bed, you said, 'for one thing.' So what was the other reason?"

"Ah…" He shook the kinks out of his shoulders. "Can't seem to remember," he said in an undertone.

She folded her arms over her chest. "Really."

"I, ah, need to check out something… I'll be back in a little while—"

"Oh, no, you don't! Stop right there. What did you find last night?"

Tyber pivoted about on his heel. Damn. When did it become hunting season on physicists? he wondered.

Hell, this was his battle. In true pirate manner, he matched her by crossing his arms over his chest. "You didn't answer my question about your aunt."

The Captain's lady held her ground. "You didn't answer mine."

"You're trying to distract me, and its not going to work, baby."

"Fine, then we'll forget it."

He arched one eyebrow, looking very much the rogue.

"So what did you find?"

He shook his head. When a woman had inquisition on her mind, it was as if a man were entering the fray with no weapons. He did best to cut his losses right from the start to avoid further bloodshed.

"There's a secret panel behind the bookcase on the landing."

Her face lit up with excitement. "Really? Wow! Let's go investigate!"

"I am going to check it out. We don't know what's behind that door and—" A pillow bounced off his head. He blinked. "Did you just throw a pillow at my head?"

"Um, noooo. It must be the ghost."

"Zanita, we don't know who is in on this, and it's too dangerous to—"

"We don't have to worry. Auntie's here now. She'd never let anything happen to us." She grinned at him.

He paused. "You might be right. Who, living or dead, would dare mess with her? A woman who murders Harley Davidsons." His eyes narrowed.

Tyber still hadn't gotten over the death of his beloved motorcycle under Auntie's wheels. The first time he had met her, the woman had run over his bike with her ancient Mercedes.

Remorselessly, she had left it there, belly-up in his driveway, for dead. It was not the best of introductions.

Furthermore, it had taken him and Gregor two months just to assemble the new parts for it, let alone to begin the task of seeing if they could revive it. He was of the opinion that it was all over but for the wake. Gregor was more optimistic.

Tyber sat on the edge of the bed, slipping on his argyle socks and boots. "Well check the veranda when we come back."

She handed him his shirt.

He took it from her, not letting go of her hand. "I want you to be careful, baby." The blue eyes held a wealth of sincerity and concern.

"Of course I will," she responded.

So he kissed the inside of her palm, letting his tongue tickle the center. "Let's go." He grabbed a flashlight from his suitcase on the way out.

They were both thankful that the library was vacant.

It was around two in the afternoon; the other guests were undoubtedly still sleeping off the night watch. Ghost-busting could play havoc with your internal clock, Zanita acknowledged. Pretty soon your days would be completely turned around.

Not that that was a bad thing. She had always been something of a night bird, and the idea appealed to her.

They were amazed to see Hippolito in the same position in the same spot under the side table. "He couldn't still be there!" Zanita peered at the lackadaisical feline to see if it was still breathing. "He must have gotten up at some point…?"

Tyber squinted at him. "Yep. He did."

"How can you tell?"

"He has a bit of egg clinging to his whisker. Must be from breakfast."

"Gawd." Zanita was tempted to lean down and tickle the little pink tongue sticking out. Hambone did her one better.

Hearing familiar voices in the library, Tyber's cat had come in to investigate. No slouch himself in the food department, the pirate cat scanned the perimeter, his one-eyed gaze going mischievously to the supine cat.

He padded over, using what he must have thought was incredible kitty stealth. In actuality, the rag-tag cat hadn't been light of foot in some time.

But Hambone didn't acknowledge the effects of aging and a pugnacious life; in his convoluted cat mind, he was a feather falling on fresh snow.

Fortunately for him, in the realm of cats, Hippolito was not exactly a rocket scientist. Hambone stood over Hippolito, staring down at the tubby cat with a mixture of naughty glee and disgust.

Then—without warning—WHAP! Right across the kisser.

"Oh, oh." Tyber turned to Zanita. "He gave him the Slap of Obeisance. We're in trouble now. Hambone will expect full worship status as befitting a cat who dares execute a command cuff on a slumbering puddy-tat."

Zanita goggled at him. "Where do you get this stuff?"

He pointed to the scene before them. They watched to see what would happen.

Hippolito blinked.

His whiskers twitched.

His round eyes widened.

As an afterthought, his chubby back legs wiggled in the air. The pink tongue remained exactly where it was, peeking out of his mouth.

Zanita and Tyber watched incredulously as the round eyes slowly drifted shut again. All was as it had been before.

"Shane does not return," Tyber murmured conclusively, apparently solving a longtime conundrum.

Zanita clunked her head against his shoulder.

Hambone, observing all of this with equal interest, seemed to frown. He hesitated as if thinking it over, then swished his tail in self-proclaimed victory (although what the victory was in tabby terms was anyone's guess). Head held high, he strutted out of the room with a "who's-the-cat" swagger.

"That feline of yours is just too weird, Tyber."

He grinned at her, displaying two deep dimples. "Gotta love him."

"Uh-huh."

He snorted and started up the circular staircase. "Right this way—fun, excitement, secret doors, and ghosts."

Zanita put one foot on the bottom step and glanced up. Which was a mistake.

A wave of dizziness assailed her.

Then she thought of Tyber checking out that exciting discovery on his own and took a deep breath to still the reeling. No way was he going to have all the fun! Grabbing on to the railing for dear life, she slowly made her way up, almost closing her eyes as she reached the top.

Tyber pulled her onto the platform.

"Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights?"

"I'm not. I just don't like circular stairs. They give me vertigo."

"Vertigo? You could've fallen. Why didn't you let me…" He hesitated when he saw her mulish expression. "Okay, but I'll help you on the way down by going first." He knelt in front of the bookcase, springing the hidden latch. "Here we go."

"How did you ever find this?"

"I noticed that the wainscoting on the bookcase and the stairwell were not properly lined up. See?" He pointed to a very minuscule discrepancy that most people would have overlooked. Most people, however, were not Tyberius Augustus Evans.

"Amazing, Doc. What about this window? That ledge…?"

"It's possible, but my money is on this passageway."

"Just because it's here doesn't meant it's the source of last nights phenomenon."

"Perhaps not," he conceded. "But in my book, it's too convenient. When something is that convenient, look to it first for the solution."

"Is that the famous Evans Convenience Principle?" she teased.

His lips curved. "Yes. I'll demonstrate it to you later." He began to crawl into the passageway, saying over his shoulder, "I would have said 'after you,' but in this case, I am going to be the gentleman by going first."

Zanita knew he would never willingly let her take any kind of risk.

Initially, the passage was low and narrow, but it soon widened out considerably. After a few yards, they were able to stand as they walked along. Tyber's flashlight bounced off the walls as he used it to break up several webs.

If the house isn't haunted, it should at least get an award for interior creepiness, Zanita thought. She brushed several large spider webs away from her. Good thing Tyber went first. The last thing she wanted was a sticky web in the face. Especially if it came equipped with arachnid horriblus.

"Hold up! The floor drops off here." He pointed the light beam down. "I hate to tell you this, Curls, but it's another circular stairway. Only this one looks a hell of a lot more rickety and nowhere near as stable. There's a lot of rust on it. I don't want you to get on it. Stay here while I—"

"Are you insane? Stay here while all the things that made these webs are somewhere nearby? No, thank you. I'm going with you."

His nostrils flared as he exhaled noisily. "I really don't think that staircase is going to hold both of us. It might not even hold one of us."

She held her chin up. "Then I should go first."

"I admire your bravery, but forget it."

"I'm the lighter one. It makes sense."

"No. Besides, there's only one flashlight. If the staircase moves, you will need two hands to hang on. We can't take the chance of the light dropping and shattering."

He was not going to talk her out of this. Zanita got a sneaky idea. "All right, I'll hold the light on you while you go down."

Tyber nodded and started to hand her the light.

"Then I'll toss you the light, so you can hold it for me."

His lips thinned. "What if I miss?"

"You? No way."

"I don't like it, baby." But he handed her the light and faced the stairwell.

It was dark.

It was probably very dangerous.

It looked like the perfect vacation spot for Nosferatu.

Chapter Seven

"Be careful, Tyber," Zanita whispered as he stepped onto the rusty platform.

He stepped lightly onto the first step. The ancient stairs creaked ominously. Several streams of rust sifted down to whatever was below. Altogether this area was more than creepsville; it gave her the heebie-jeebies big time.

"Tyber, maybe we ought to reconsider this. I don't want you getting hurt."

Tyber used one foot to bounce up and down on the staircase, testing its steadiness. "I think it will hold, baby, but we have to be very careful here. I don't know how secure the moorings will be as the weight point shifts with the path of the circular stairs, and the only way to find that out is to start down the staircase. If it starts to dance, I can leap over the railing."

"How far is it to the bottom?" She shone the flashlight down so he could see.

"Doesn't look too bad," he answered vaguely.

Zanita wasn't sure she believed that. "I don't—"