Welcome to the Dream (A Celeste Cross Book, #1) (5 page)

‘
I'll get the hot water on then.’
He brought up his wrist and looked at his watch again.

‘
Look if you don't have the time,
that's absolutely fine. I mean, I really don't think I'll be using
hot water tonight.’ She crossed her arms, trying to hide her messy
t-shirt. ‘The only thing I need is ice and
air-conditioning.’

‘
It's fine, I've got the time.’
Jack turned and headed off around the side of the building. ‘The
hot water cylinder is underneath the house.’

‘
What's it doing underneath the
house?’

Jack’s steps were quick and
oh-so efficient. Celeste had to half jog to keep up with
him.

‘
It used to leak all the time,
stain the floorboards, and once or twice waterlogged dad's
library.’ Jack finally came to a stop about halfway along the
longest edge of the house. The house was on a slight incline, and
the foundations were raised up on old, roughly-chiseled sandstone.
There was a small wooden lattice door, probably only a meter high
and about half a meter wide. Jack dropped to his knees, tugged the
door open, and then got down on his belly, turning sideways to get
through the narrow opening.

‘
Do you need a torch or
something?’ Celeste looked at the dark, entirely dirty and dusty
scene before her. She would hate the idea of getting onto her belly
and wriggling through the dirt in order to get to the hot water
cylinder. But Jack, apparently, didn't care, and in a second the
tips of his black boots were out of sight.

‘
I'll be fine,’ he grunted
back.

Celeste waited around,
picking at her lips as she did. Well, today had been a weird one.
First the heat, then the entirely boring church tour with the
strange redhead, and now the rather enticing Jack West. But unless
Celeste planned to drag herself out of the house tonight, things
were probably going to get normal and boring from here on
out.

Eventually Jack scrambled
back out of the hole, pushing to his feet quickly, arching his
back, and dusting off one of his shoulders.

She quickly cast her eyes
down his body – he was totally covered in dirt.

Which just made him, yet
again, all the more attractive.

‘
Thank you,’ she said quickly, as
she realized she'd been standing there looking at him silently for
several seconds. ‘You want a glass of water or a soft
drink?’

She wasn't sure why she'd
offered him a soft drink, because as far she knew, there was
nothing in the cupboards. She hadn't gone shopping yet. Thankfully
Jack shook his head.

‘
Sorry, I gotta head back to
base.’

Celeste nodded. ‘Thank you so
much. I would’ve had no hope of getting that hot water cylinder on.
I would never have been able to find it.’

With that she remembered what
Jack had said before he'd so easily gone for a crawl underneath the
house. When the hot water cylinder had leaked, it had nearly ruined
his dad's library. She cast her eyes to the white weatherboard wall
in front of her. ‘Did your dad live here?’

Jack nodded, his expression,
which had previously been an easy one, stiffened for a second.
‘Yeah. I gave it to Susie when he died.’

‘
Oh.’ Celeste always clammed up
when she heard other people recounting their bad news. She just
wasn't sure what to say. Was she meant to say sorry? Did that make
it sound as if she was responsible? Or was she meant to ignore it,
gloss over it, and try to find something light to talk
about?

She didn't have to bother
though, because his phone rang. He grabbed it from one of the large
pockets in his pants, and answered it quickly.

She took several steps away,
wanting to give him privacy.

‘
Right,’ he said. ‘I'll be there
as soon as I can.’

Celeste brushed a hand over
the flowers of one of the massive rhododendrons that were growing
close to the house. It was a full, vibrant purple color. She let it
distract her as she waited for him,

‘
I've got to go. If you need to
call me, my number is on the fridge.’ Jack nodded towards the
house.

For a second Celeste began
to blush. Jack was about the most attractive man who'd ever
wandered across her path. Then she realized what he was really
saying; he meant she could call him if she had any problems with
the house.

She gave a stuttering little
laugh. ‘Sure. Thank you so much.’

‘
Enjoy your stay.’ He leaned in
again, offering her his hand.

Again she took it, and again she
let him do all the shaking, not caring that his hand was slightly
dirty and there were prickles here and there of dust and small bits
of grit from his crawl underneath the house. ‘Nice to meet you,
Celeste. That is your name, right?’

She nodded, following him
back around the side of the house.

‘
Well I hope you enjoy your stay
here, Gresham City is great, when it's not sweltering hot that is.’
His cheeks rounded out with a deep smile. It was an odd move,
because you would swear with somebody that looked just as tough and
diligent as Jack did, that he wouldn't be able to offer such a
friendly and fulsome grin.

It kind of almost sent
butterflies through her stomach.

He nodded her way again. ‘I'll
see you around.’ He turned and walked off.

‘
Thank you. Do you need a lift?’
she asked, seconds before she glanced down the driveway and saw a
white, old, beaten up and rusty Land Rover. ‘Never mind, I couldn't
see your car,’ she said quickly, cheeks impossibly getting hotter
considering how burnt they already were.

‘
Thank you for the offer, ma'am.’
Jack suddenly stopped a couple of meters from her car, leant down
and picked something up.

She walked over to him just as
he turned and handed her a book. ‘It must have dropped from your
luggage.’

She took it off him. It was
her absolute favorite book. It was completely worn, the cover
dog-eared and torn in various places. The title was still readable
though: Lucid Dreaming.

For a second she almost
winced. To a man who was no doubt as tough and sensible as Jack
appeared, lucid dreaming probably sounded like airy fairy hippy
talk.

But he didn't say anything,
and neither did he look incredulous. He just handed it to her with
a smile, turned around, and walked off.

‘
Bye,’ she called after
him.

He put up a single hand and
waved without turning. Then he got in his car and drove
off.

Slowly Celeste forced
herself to walk back into the house. She shut the door, leaning
against it and letting her jaw open as she shook her
head.

Wow, just
wow.
She thought as she
tapped the book in her hands.
Jack West, you are one attractive
man.

Celeste walked into the
kitchen, dumping her book on the bench, and then turned to look at
the fridge. There, written on the white enamel in what looked like
blue liquid chalk, was a neat row of numbers, with Jack's name
written above them.

Susie, Susie,
Susie, why didn't you tell me?
Celeste wasn't the kind of girl to fan her face or cram her
head into a pillow and give an exuberant scream. Instead she just
gave another little shake of her head, and finally trotted through
the kitchen and up the stairs. She walked into the room that was to
be hers for the duration of her stay, and then walked all the way
over to the window to check that he was really gone before she
pulled her singlet off and flicked it onto the bed. Then she
wrestled out of her jeans and headed to the
shower.

Maybe Gresham City would be
more interesting than she could have hoped for. Or at least it
could be if she ran into the main attraction again – Jack West. A
small smile played across her lips as she reached for the
tap.

Chapter 4

Jack West

He'd been called back to the
base. Cindy had found something.

He kept on swearing silently
in his head as he looked at the photos in front of him. He planted
a hand onto one of his temples and let the fingers dig into the
flesh, trying to work out the tension that was trapped
inside.

They'd gone over this church
time and time again. Of course they had; it was a Solomon Clarke
building and it was right in the center of their own town. Squire's
home base was in Gresham City. So any threats to the local area
were dealt with swiftly. They were also extremely careful to be
proactive in hunting down potential risks; you didn't want a threat
turning up on your front doorstep.

Yet apparently that was
exactly what Jack had let happen. He'd missed something at that
church the numerous times he'd gone over it.

He'd always known there was
a crypt, but they'd scanned it several times, and they'd never
received any indication that something suspicious was inside.
Yaoguai energy had a very distinct signature, and they'd gone over
that whole church for any trace of it. But there had been
nothing.

If the boys from the library
were right though, Solomon Clarke had stashed a whole bunch of
commentaries in the crypt, which was important. Yet what would be
far more significant was if he'd managed to secrete away a few
relics as well. It was highly unlikely the scriptures would be
infected, but the relics would be a different matter
entirely.

‘
I think you should know, there
was an odd woman there as well. She was part of the tour.’ Cindy
straightened up in front of his desk. She always had such a
perfectly poised body. What was more, she knew how to use it. Jack
had seen her take down a man three times her size.

‘
How suspicious?’ Jack removed
his hand from his head and let it rest on to his desk. Cindy was a
good agent, but she sometimes overestimated threats.

‘
She was watching me.’ Cindy
stood up straighter, her red hair brushing against her arms and
waist. She was tall, and had a long, thin, agile body. While she
usually wore tight jeans and a blouse, or a pair of pants and a
t-shirt if she thought things were going to get dangerous, she was
now in wide shorts and Roman sandals. She'd gone on a tour of the
church to get information, and apparently she'd taken the role to
heart. She looked exactly like a tourist, but a fiery tourist at
that.

‘
That doesn't exactly make her
dodgy.’ Jack leaned back in his chair. ‘Give me something
more.’

Cindy took a moment, and
then she shook her head.

‘
Right. Let's concentrate on the
real problem. Are you sure they told you that they'd found remains
in the crypt?’ Jack's body tensed slightly as he spoke; this was
important stuff. If Cindy was right, then the church wasn't just a
potential threat, it was a veritable hazard. If it had a relic, and
if that relic was a skull, or an arm, or any other bone, then the
chance of it being infected by Yaoguai was too frightening to
estimate.

She nodded, keeping her hands
clasped behind her back. ‘I'm sure. I talked to the lead
archaeologist, I took her out for coffee. She told me everything. A
couple of days ago they found a false door in the back of the
crypt, they got permission to remove it, and only this morning they
took it down. I think I talked to her only about an hour after
they'd found the remains. Plus I made sure to scan the church and
the graveyard with my phone whilst I was on the tour, and I didn't
pick up any indication of Yaoguai energy.’

‘
At least that's something,’ Jack
gave a heavy sigh. If Cindy was right, then the likelihood that
somebody had disturbed the remains, or heaven forbid had taken them
away from the crypt, would be small. Archaeologists, after all,
didn't like to disturb their dig sites until everything was
properly documented. Plus, whenever human remains were involved, no
matter how ancient they appeared to be, you always had to call in
the forensics unit from the local police force.

So they had time.

‘
We've already sent a team in to
lock-down the church.’ Cindy didn't slump for a second, always
keeping her posture straight and tight. ‘Taylor and Rodriguez are
heading to the crypt tonight, and Ami has made contact with the
archaeological team to find out what they know.’

It sounded like everything
was sorted. But Jack wasn't about to rest until he was sure
everybody had done their job and any threat had been
mitigated.

‘
So you can go ahead and make
your meeting tonight.’ A very small smile tweaked at Cindy's
lips.

He knew his entire team
thought he was overworked. From Gustaf telling him he should take a
holiday, to Cindy inviting him out for a drink every chance she
could get – it wasn't a secret they all thought he should get away
for a bit.

Yet every single time Jack
thought of taking a rest, a certain woman in a red dress popped
into his head. He'd seen a counsellor about it a couple of times,
but it hadn't seemed to help. He couldn't shake free of the guilt
he felt over her death. Her name had been Annabel Farmer. She'd
been young, intelligent, incredibly talented, and she'd had a
fantastic future mapped out for her. But on that night three years
ago, because he hadn't been quick enough, that had all ended
abruptly.