Scent of Roses (15 page)

Elizabeth wished Jennifer sat on her couch instead of Richard.

It was nearly five o'clock before she got a chance to phone Maria. She was a little uneasy about mentioning the “sensitive” Zach had told her about, but Maria seemed nonplussed.

“You think this woman—Señora Trevillian—you think she will be able to see the ghost?”

“I have no idea. I don't think these people actually see them. I think she's supposed to be able to sense their presence, though. I thought it might be worth a try.”

“Oh,
sí.
If she can come on Saturday night, I will get Miguel to take me out. He is off on Sunday so he can sleep late. I am too fat to dance, but I like to listen to the music.”

“That would be great, Maria.” Elizabeth thought of the young Hispanic woman, too far along in her pregnancy to enjoy an evening of nightclubbing on the town, but desperate to resolve her frightening situation. Maybe Tansy Trevillian would make a discovery that would make Maria's sacrifice worthwhile. Elizabeth hoped so, but she had her doubts.

 

Zach worked on his Themoziamine case until late Thursday night, then returned to work early Friday morning. At two o'clock in the afternoon, he left his Westwood office, his suitcase already packed and loaded into the trunk of his car. He had a stop to make before he took off for San Pico.

Pulling onto the 405 Freeway, he slogged along in the heavy Friday traffic, heading for Culver City, then took the Washington Boulevard exit and headed east. His mother's apartment was on Wilson, a side street on the south side of the road.

Though Zach didn't see his mother all that often, he tried to stop by whenever he could. Years ago, after Teresa and Fletcher Harcourt had gone their separate ways and Zach was living in the house at Harcourt Farms, his mother had gotten married. The marriage had ended in divorce and a few years later, she had married again.

Teresa had always liked men. Her current husband, Harry Goodman, was a beefy car salesman who worked at Miller Toyota just down Washington Boulevard. Harry took up most of Teresa's time and that was the way she wanted it.

Zach wasn't sure why he felt the need to see her today, but here he was, pulling up next to the curb in front of her two-story, gray stucco apartment building. Carrying a two-pound bag of her favorite coffee beans, he climbed the stairs to the second floor, and knocked on her apartment door. A few seconds later, his mother pulled it open.

“Zachary—come on in.” She took his hand and pulled him forward, closing the door behind them. “I was surprised when you called this morning.”

“I was thinking about you. I haven't stopped by in a while.”

She gave him a brief hug—something she had only lately begun to do—then stepped away, a woman in her early fifties who still wore her shoulder-length black hair loose around her shoulders, still wore her skirts above her knees, though she was at least thirty pounds overweight. When she smiled, she remained attractive, but she was rapidly losing her looks, which bothered her immensely, since she had pretty much survived the years by being a sexy, desirable woman.

“You usually like to get out of town early on Fridays,” she said. “You're not going up to San Pico?”

“I'm going. I just thought I'd stop by before I left town.” He handed her the bag of coffee. He usually brought her some little gift or gave her some pocket money. He sent her a monthly check to help cover her bills, but the extra was just for her.

He tapped the bag of coffee. “I figured you'd be running out of the good stuff by now.”

She opened the sack and inhaled deeply, let out a contented sigh. “Costa Rica Royale. My favorite. Thank you, honey.”

She led him into the kitchen to brew a pot, lit up a cigarette, and they sat down at the kitchen table. Teresa drank coffee and smoked all day. As a kid, he had hated the smell of stale cigarette smoke and still did. He'd tried to get her to quit, but he didn't think she ever would.

She inhaled deeply, let the smoke trail out slowly. “You look a little tired today. Everything all right?”

The question took him by surprise. Teresa had never been much of a mother. While other kid's mothers baked cookies and attended PTA, Teresa enjoyed San Pico's limited nightlife. And satisfied Fletcher Harcourt's demands, which came before everything else.

“Everything's fine. I've just been working hard lately, is all.”

“Well, then, let's have a cup of coffee and I'll tell you about the party down the block that Harry and I went to last night.”

They chatted for a while, saying nothing much really, Zach mostly listening, since Teresa generally did the majority of the talking.

Half an hour later, as he wove his car back into the vicious L.A. traffic, heading north to San Pico, he wondered again why he'd felt the urge to see her. As a boy, he had yearned for her love and attention, ached for the love of his parents but never really got it. Over the years, he had taught himself to live without that kind of emotional attachment. He had learned to take care of himself, learned to make the most of life without ever letting anyone get too close.

Lately, he had begun to understand that the distance he put between himself and others was a defense mechanism, a way of protecting himself. He didn't want to need anyone the way he had as a boy.

Perhaps he had gone to see Teresa to remind himself of the painful life he had lived before he had learned to guard his emotions, to rely only on himself. Before he had learned how much it hurt to care when the other person didn't, or at least not nearly as much. Maybe he had needed the reminder.

As usual, getting out of the city was murder, the clogged freeways putting him even more on edge than he was when he left the office. But it wasn't just the traffic. He was heading back to San Pico. A week ago, he had spent the night in Liz Conner's bed and he wanted to be there again. He wanted to sample more of the passion he had aroused in her. Even more than that, he just wanted to be with her.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Zach steered the BMW through an opening between two cars, accelerating into a break in the traffic that allowed him to make a little headway. Earlier in the week, Liz had called to say she had spoken to Maria and that Saturday night Maria would keep Miguel occupied so they could spend time in the house.

Liz had been all business, her voice cool on the line, yet he could sense the tension she tried to hide. He wondered if she might be remembering how good they were together, remembering the hot night they had shared. As soon as the car neared the summit and started down the Grapevine into the San Joaquin Valley, Zach dialed her home number.

Tansy Trevillian had agreed to make the trip to San Pico tomorrow night. He just needed to call Liz and confirm that everything was ready. One quick call, he told himself, strictly business.

“Hello.” The single word, spoken in that softly feminine voice, had the power to make him go hard.

“It's Zach. I just wanted to check in, make sure everything is set for tomorrow night.”

“So far, everything looks good. Maria thinks she can keep Miguel away until at least midnight.”

“Good. Great.”

“You said she'd be there about dark so I guess I'll see you then.” She sounded way too eager to hang up the phone and a thread of irritation slipped through him.

His hands tightened around the wheel. “You sound busy. Got a hot date?”

Her voice flattened out. “No.”

“Why not? You're a beautiful woman. I'm surprised every man in town isn't trying to get you into bed.”

“The only man who's been trying is you, Zach. I guess the rest have figured out I'm not interested.”

“Maybe. And maybe you're living in a town full of idiots. I want to see you, Liz.” He hadn't meant to say it. The words just seemed to pop out of his mouth.

“I told you before, Zach, it's not a good idea.”

“Maybe it is. How can we know for sure unless we try it and see?”

A momentary pause. “Are you sure you're not just looking for someone to fill in for Lisa?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I've been thinking about you all week. I'll be in town in less than an hour. I want to come over and see you.”

“Please, Zach, don't push this thing. I made a mistake last week, all right? I don't know exactly how it happened, but I don't want it to happen again.”

“Dammit, Liz!”

“I've got to go, Zach. I'll see you tomorrow night.” Liz hung up and Zach swore softly. He tossed his cell phone into the passenger seat and raked a hand through his hair. Liz was determined to stay away from him—and she was probably right. He wasn't the kind of guy a woman should get involved with. He was too much of a loner, his single lifestyle too much a part of him. Liz deserved better than a brief affair with a guy like him.

Zach thought of his mother and Fletcher Harcourt and how they had mostly ignored him. He thought of Fletcher's late wife, Constance, and how she had made him feel like the dirt beneath her expensive high heels.

Then there was Carson, who had bullied him until he'd gotten tough enough to fight back. Carson hadn't stopped his harassment, just changed his tactics to ridicule and ostracism. Over the years, Zach had built a wall around his emotions, a wall that existed today.

After Liz's experience with her good-for-nothing husband, she had built a wall, too.

Maybe she was right to keep herself safely locked behind it.

But having done exactly that for as long as he could remember, Zach was no longer so sure.

O
n Saturday night, Elizabeth left her apartment just before dark. She was nervous. She had never met what Zach called a “sensitive.” She didn't know if the woman was for real or a complete and utter fraud. She had no idea what might happen tonight in the house.

And Zach would be there. Since his phone call last night, he had been constantly in her thoughts. As soon as she'd heard his voice, she had wanted to see him, so badly it hurt.

Zachary Harcourt attracted her in a way no man ever had. She had never craved a man, never lusted after one, never ached for a man the way she did Zach.

It was frightening.

And impossible.

Zach was Zach, a dedicated bachelor who enjoyed the single life, a man used to sleeping with dozens of women. He hadn't bothered to deny it. She doubted he had ever been seriously involved with a woman and he probably never would be.

But Elizabeth wasn't that way. If she let down her guard, her attraction to Zach would grow. She might even fall in love with him. She knew it could happen. Every time she saw him, she felt the tremendous pull between them. Zach Harcourt wasn't a man she could chance falling in love with. If she did, he would only break her heart.

Elizabeth thought of her marriage and remembered the crushing despair she had felt at her husband's betrayal. Brian had taken the love she had offered and little by little destroyed it. She couldn't go through that again. She didn't think she would survive it.

As she drove down the road toward the little yellow house, Elizabeth steeled herself. No matter what Zach said, no matter how much she wanted him, she wasn't going to let him sway her.

Her purpose once more clear, she focused her attention on the strip of blacktop in the headlights in front of her. It was very dark tonight, the moon hidden behind a dense layer of clouds, its faint rays breaking through only now and then. A summer storm was moving in from the west. She could smell the ozone in the air, see the faint glow of lightning over the barren, far-distant hills.

Elizabeth dimmed her headlights as she neared the house, then pulled off the road onto the gravel driveway. Spotting Zach's silhouette behind the wheel of his car, she pulled up next to the black convertible and turned off the engine. Zach got out and started toward her as she climbed out of the car.

“Hi,” he said softly, his dark eyes on her face. She could see the golden flecks in them and something else, something that made her chest ache.

“Hello, Zach.”

He glanced away, took a slow breath, and when he turned to face her, the look was gone. “Tansy isn't here yet, but she called me on my cell and said she was on her way.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I guess we can wait on the porch.”

“Good idea. After what happened last week, I'm not in any rush to go in.”

They sat down on the front porch steps. Zach was wearing a pair of worn Levi's and a V-neck, pullover shirt. He looked good. Too good. She wanted to reach out and touch him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to have him inside her.

“You keep looking at me that way and I won't be responsible for my actions.”

She flushed. It was one thing to lust after a man, another altogether to get caught doing it. She fiddled with a strand of dark auburn hair, looped a thick curl behind her ear. “I wonder when she'll get here.”

Zach gazed off down the highway. “Headlights coming. Maybe that's her.”

Fortunately for Elizabeth, who was growing more and more nervous with Zach so near, it was. Both of them got up from the step and Zach walked over to greet her as her car pulled in and she turned off the engine.

Tansy Trevillian was nothing at all as Elizabeth had imagined. Instead of some dilapidated, flower-painted Volkswagen van, she was driving a white Pontiac Grand Prix, and she wasn't wearing a long, flowing paisley dress. In her simple beige slacks and pink-and-beige print blouse, her brown hair cut short and smartly styled, she looked more like a businesswoman than the lost-in-time hippy Elizabeth had more than half expected.

Zach stepped back as she got out of her car, then walked the petite woman over for introductions. “Liz, meet Tansy Trevillian.”

The woman, probably no more than a few years older than Elizabeth, gave her a smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Liz.”

Elizabeth didn't correct the shortened name. She was beginning to get used to it. In high school, lots of her friends had called her Liz. “Same here.”

Tansy stuck out a small hand and Elizabeth shook it, the handshake firm, the woman's smile warm.

“Thanks for coming,” Elizabeth said.

Tansy turned toward the house and her smile slowly faded. “Zach hasn't told me much. Just that the people who live here have been having some problems. We find it works better that way, knowing as little as possible. People like us are susceptible to suggestion just like anyone else.”

“‘People like us?'” Elizabeth repeated.

“Sensitives. Psychics. Clairvoyants. People with those kinds of gifts.”

Or curses,
Elizabeth thought.

Tansy's gaze slowly scanned the fifteen-acre compound that formed the main living area of the ranch. As the clouds parted and a portion of the moon broke through, she studied the distant set of overseers' houses, the workers' cottages and the big, two-story ranch house on the opposite side of the compound some distance away. Though the night was warm, Tansy wrapped her arms around herself to control a shiver.

“What is it?” Zach asked.

Tansy's gaze scanned the row of houses in the distance. “There's something here. I can feel it.” She turned, fixed her attention on the yellow stucco house. “Something dark and evil.”

Elizabeth's heart slammed into gear. “You can feel something clear out here in the open?”

Tansy's eyes returned to the other houses perched on the wide, flat, barren piece of ground. “It's everywhere around here. I've never felt anything quite like it.”

A shudder climbed Elizabeth's spine. She didn't feel anything and yet the pale hue of Tansy Trevillian's face said she was telling the truth. No one said a word, just stood in the darkness waiting. Tansy shivered again, then faintly shook herself, as if she fought to return from the place she had been.

“Let's go inside.” She started walking toward the door. Zach flicked a glance at Elizabeth and fell in step beside her. They followed the woman up the steps and Elizabeth used the key Maria had given her to open the front door. Zach entered first, took a quick look around, then held the door open for the women. Tansy took a single step into the living room and froze.

Her face looked even paler than it had before, and Elizabeth noticed that she trembled.

“You can feel it in here?” Zach asked softly.

Tansy nodded. “It's stronger in here. I can hardly catch my breath.”

“Why don't you sit down?” Elizabeth suggested. “I'll get you a drink of water.”

Tansy didn't respond. Instead, she started walking, her eyes fixed straight ahead. The living room curtains were open, the room dimly lit by the few, thin, shadowy streamers of moonlight creeping into the room. As if in a trance, Tansy headed straight for the master bedroom, her gaze fixed ahead, her hands shaking. She stopped at the foot of the bed.

“Something terrible happened in this house.” She stood there, statue-still, as if she had crossed some line into another world. For several minutes, no one moved. Elizabeth's heart thumped, hard and fast, and her stomach was tied in knots. Though she felt none of the things she had experienced in the house before, Tansy must have sensed them. Crossing herself, she began to whisper some kind of prayer.

As the last words drifted away, she looked up, her eyes still unfocused, eerily glazed and oddly distant.

“Do you know what happened here?” Zach asked softly.

Still staring, Tansy swallowed. “Death. A brutal, horrible death.” She looked at Zach, her eyes big and round in her small, feminine face. “And the evil that caused it still exists here.”

Elizabeth's palms began to sweat. Her heart, already clattering loudly, jerked into a higher gear. She wasn't feeling any of the things she'd felt before, yet it wasn't hard to believe that Tansy Trevillian might be sensing something fearful in the house.

“What else can you tell us?” Zach pressed.

Tansy shook her head, glossy short brown hair falling over her ears. “It's all jumbled together. I can't get a fix on anything specific. I just know something terrible happened. And evil was the cause.” She turned toward the door and started walking. “I can't stay here any longer. I'm sorry.”

Walking out of the bedroom, she crossed the living room and went out the front door. Elizabeth, with Zach close beside her, followed the woman out into the yard.

“I'm sorry I couldn't be more help,” Tansy said as she reached her car. “Too much has happened. There are too many layers, one overlapping the other.” She pulled open the door. “They're in danger…the people who live in the house.”

Elizabeth swallowed. She could almost hear the small, high-pitched voice she had heard in the bedroom. “What…what should we do?”

Tansy looked back at the house. “Find out what happened here. Perhaps then you will know what to do about the house.”

Zach held the car door while Tansy slid behind the wheel.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “You've got my card. Send your bill to my office.”

Tansy shook her head again. “Not this time. This one's on me.” Snapping her seat belt in place, she started the engine. Pulling the car out onto the highway, she accelerated off down the road, driving a little faster than she should have.

Elizabeth moved toward Zach, wondering at his thoughts, as another set of headlights turned into the driveway. It was an old blue Ford pickup, and recognizing the face of the driver, she muttered a dirty word.

“Looks like the kids are home from the dance a little early,” Zach said dryly.

“Looks like. And if that scowl on Miguel's face is a clue, he isn't happy to see us.”

As Tansy's taillights disappeared down the highway, Miguel jumped down from the driver's seat of his pickup and marched toward them. Maria struggled to get down from the passenger side of the truck and hurried as best she could in the direction of the group in front of the house.

“I tried to keep him away,” she said, looking as if she had been crying. “He was afraid I was getting too tired. I am sorry.”

“It's all right, Maria,” Elizabeth said. “It's time Miguel knew the truth.”

“Truth,” he growled. “What truth? That you believe there is a ghost in my house?”

Elizabeth's gaze swung to Maria. “You told him?”

“I thought he might listen. I should have known he would not.”

“You believe there is a ghost because my pregnant wife says so? She is a child. And she is frightened to be having a baby. That is all there is to it, and I forbid you to encourage any more of her crazy notions.”

Maria started crying, and Miguel turned his wrath in her direction. “Get in the house! You will not speak of this again—do you hear me?”

Maria took a shaky breath and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I am sorry,” she whispered to Elizabeth.

“Go!”

Maria hurried away, not looking back, and Miguel fixed Elizabeth with a glare. “You are no longer welcome in this house.”

“Take it easy, Miguel,” Zach said, stepping a little in front of her. “Something's going on here—whether you believe it or not—and your wife is frightened. We're only trying to help.”

“You want to help? Then leave us alone!” He stalked up the front porch steps, walked inside and slammed the door.

Elizabeth felt Zach's arm go around her. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she found herself leaning against him.

“He isn't a bad husband,” she said. “He's just old-fashioned.”

“Someone needs to take him down a peg or two.”

She noticed the set of Zach's jaw and realized he wouldn't hesitate to confront Miguel Santiago—or anyone else who posed a threat to people he cared about. It was an oddly comforting thought.

“This has really been hard on Maria,” she said. “Now Miguel is angry, just as she was afraid he would be. We've got to find a way to help her.”

“We'll figure something out.”

She glanced back at the house, thinking of Tansy Trevillian. “It sounded pretty far-fetched…all that talk about evil, but still…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Zach led her over to her car and waited while she slid behind the wheel. “We need to talk about this.”

She nodded. “I know. I'd invite you over to my place, but I don't think…”

“I already know what you think. How about we go to Biff's and I'll buy you a cup of coffee? Worst brew in the county, but at least they're open. Not many choices in this town.”