Ghost Moon (31 page)

Olivia looked at him for an instant. ‘‘I’m glad I grew up.’’

She wriggled on top of him, and lay there, her arms folded on his chest, her chin resting on her hands. His eyes twinkled and darkened at the same time as he looked down at her. ‘‘Me too.’’

Then his arms came around her and he rolled, pinning her beneath him. After that, neither of them spoke again for a very long time.

CHAPTER 48

AFTER DROPPING OFF THE GIRLS AT SCHOOL the next morning, Olivia decided on impulse to stop by Charlie’s office. Seth’s suggestion of seeing a professional had merit. She wanted the name of a psychiatrist—and, she thought, a hypnotist. All Seth’s logic had not completely convinced her that her mother was not trying to get a message to her from beyond the grave. Maybe a hypnotist could take her into the dream, and elicit information that faded away when she woke up. She had the feeling there was something she wasn’t quite grasping, something that was floating maddeningly just beyond her reach.

If so, she had to know.

Charlie’s office was on Chitimacha Street, in a single-story brick building that had once been a house. He had paved the front yard, hung a shingle on the door that said CHARLES VERNON, MD, and listed his office hours, but otherwise the house remained essentially unchanged.

His office hours officially began at eight thirty, but Olivia knew he was in when she drove by because his Lexus was parked in the space beside the office reserved for his exclusive use. Praying that Ira and his deputies were occupied elsewhere—a traffic ticket was something she didn’t need—Olivia made a U-turn and pulled into the parking lot. Getting out of the car, she smoothed her hair and dress—she was wearing a new camel-colored knit with a self-belt and a slim skirt that did great things for her figure, bought with Seth in mind—and headed for the door. Knocking loudly, she turned the knob and walked into the reception area.

‘‘Uncle Charlie?’’

Charlie was nowhere in sight. He was probably in the private office in the rear, Olivia surmised. She knew that he liked to come in early and read the newspaper. There was a small bell to ring for service on the counter that separated the reception area from the business office. Olivia hit it twice, sharply, and then waited.

The reception area was the house’s former living room, and it was generously proportioned. Grass cloth in a tasteful shade of tan covered the walls, and a tan and gray mottled carpet was on the floor. The chairs—there were a dozen of them, ranged against the wall—had gray vinyl backs and seats with pale wood arms. A matching coffee table in the center of the room held a selection of magazines. What was most unusual about the reception area, and indeed the whole office, were the accessories: Skilled taxidermist Charlie had made use of his talents to enliven corners and other odd niches with his work. Olivia found herself staring at a stuffed black bear in the corner of the reception room. The creature, taller than she was, was rearing on its back legs, its front paws extended. It looked so real that she had to resist the impulse to back away from it. Even its eyes looked real.

‘‘Who’s there? Oh—Olivia!’’ Dressed in a white lab coat with a pen protruding from his breast pocket, Charlie looked delighted to see her. ‘‘Come in, come in!’’

He held open the bottom half of the Dutch door that led into the business office, and Olivia walked inside. A stuffed squirrel had pride of place on the file cabinet, she noticed as she followed Charlie on down the hall. He led the way into his private office, and settled himself behind his desk, motioning Olivia into a chair across from him. Sitting down, Olivia found herself staring at the huge stuffed bass mounted on the wall just above Charlie’s head.

‘‘What can I do for you, Olivia?’’ Charlie asked, leaning back in his chair and surveying her keenly. ‘‘That is—I’m assuming this is not a social call.’’

Olivia shook her head. ‘‘Remember the nightmares I told you about? About my mother’s death.’’

‘‘I do, yes.’’

‘‘I’m still having them. Actually, they’re getting more and more vivid all the time.’’ Olivia looked at him almost pleadingly. ‘‘Uncle Charlie, what happened that night?’’

He looked at her for a long moment without saying anything. Then he leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk and steepling his fingers as he looked at her. ‘‘There’s not a lot I can tell you. I was only there at the end. We’d all been looking for your mother because James was concerned when he came home and couldn’t find her anywhere in the house. It was late, after midnight, I forget the time exactly but late. Big John somehow spotted Selena floating in the lake, and started yelling. I came and pulled her out and tried to revive her. It was no use. She was dead when I pulled her out of the water.’’

‘‘Was she wearing a nightgown—a white nightgown, ankle-length, with wide lace straps?’’ Olivia’s question was impulsive. She merely wanted to verify any of the dream’s details that she could.

Charlie stared at her, then blinked. ‘‘Why—yes, I believe she was. A white nightgown, in any case. Long, because it covered her legs.’’

Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. ‘‘Did you see any indication—is there any reason to think that it might not have been suicide?’’

‘‘Olivia, I’m sorry, but no. No, there’s no reason to think that.’’

Olivia sighed. ‘‘I guess what I need from you next is the name of a good psychiatrist. And a hypnotist.’’

Charlie blinked at her. ‘‘The psychiatrist I can understand, if you’re having nightmares and they’re troubling you. But a hypnotist?’’

‘‘I want to see if there are any details in the dreams I’m having that I’m forgetting when I wake up. I keep getting the feeling that I’m missing something. I thought maybe a hypnotist could help.’’

Charlie nodded. He reached for his prescription pad, and pulled the pen out of his pocket. Scratching something on the top sheet, he tore it off, then started writing on the second sheet. ‘‘A psychiatrist is no problem. I’ve known John Hall for years, and he’s right close in Baton Rouge. A hypnotist—well, I’ll have to look into that. When I come up with somebody, I’ll let you know.’’

‘‘Could you try to find somebody soon?’’ Olivia hated to be pushy about it, but there was a sense of urgency driving her now. Probably because, knowing Seth, if she didn’t fix herself soon, he’d be working on a way to fix her himself. Seth was like that.

‘‘Soon as I can, I promise.’’ Charlie pushed the pieces of paper across the desk at her and stood up. ‘‘I’ve written down John Hall’s number—when you call him, tell him I referred you. And the other’s a prescription for medication to help you sleep. If you can’t beat those nightmares one way, you can beat them another. In fact . . .’’ He walked around the desk as Olivia stood up, too. ‘‘I think I’ve got some samples. Go on out to the reception room, and I’ll bring them out to you.’’

Olivia did, and he joined her a few minutes later, handing her a small white bottle with a yellow label. ‘‘You take two of those at bedtime, and you won’t have any more problems with nightmares, even without the psychiatrist.’’

‘‘Thank you, Uncle Charlie.’’ Olivia smiled warmly at him, and started to pull out her checkbook. He waved her on out the door.

‘‘You’re on the family plan,’’ he told her. ‘‘Now, go on to wherever you were going. And let me know how things work out.’’

Olivia was left with nothing to do but thank him again, put the pills in her purse, and head to work.

It was probably a good thing that Seth was busy with clients all morning, Olivia thought. She had work to do, after all, and he was a definite distraction. She called a locksmith about the French windows, then got busy with the computer. Ilsa eyed her a little askance at first, but Olivia said nothing, and over the course of the morning Ilsa seemed to forget any suspicions that the events of the previous day might have aroused. Shortly before lunch, though, a woman walked in carrying a huge bouquet of deep red roses arranged in a tall glass vase. Olivia and Ilsa both stopped work to stare at the delivery in surprise.

‘‘These are for you, Mrs. Morrison,’’ the woman said cheerfully, and Olivia recognized her as Dana Peltz, owner and operator of Blooming Blossoms, LaAngelle’s only florist. ‘‘Two dozen of my very best. I almost didn’t have enough. Where do you want me to put them?’’

‘‘On—on my desk,’’ Olivia said, trying to hold on to her composure. Of course they were from Seth, she thought, and her heart warmed along with her cheeks.

‘‘You enjoy.’’ Dana Peltz put the roses down, gave her a warm smile, and left. Ignoring Ilsa’s wide-eyed gaze, Olivia moved to her desk and bent to sniff the roses. Their scent was heavenly.

‘‘Who . . .?’’ Ilsa began, then broke off as Carl walked into the office, wearing a navy sport coat that looked new, with pale gray slacks, a blue shirt, and a yellow tie. His dark hair was neatly brushed, his shoes were shined, and it was obvious that he had taken more pains with his appearance than he usually did.

Olivia immediately felt bad.

‘‘Did you get my message . . .?’’ Carl began, only to break off as he saw Olivia bending over the roses. ‘‘Nice flowers.’’

The awful thought had occurred to Olivia, in the few seconds between when he appeared in the doorway and commented on the roses, that
Carl
might have sent them. But from the way he was eyeing the flowers, such was not the case. She fumbled for the card, opened it.
Love, Seth
was what it said.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she said to Carl. Ilsa, meanwhile, was eyeing Olivia with open speculation.

‘‘So are we on for Friday night?’’ he asked. ‘‘I’ll pick you up at six, and we’ll drive into Baton Rouge for dinner, and then go on to—’’

Olivia was already shaking her head regretfully, interrupting him. ‘‘Carl, I can’t.’’

He frowned at her. ‘‘Why not? I thought we had fun over lunch.’’

Olivia took a deep breath. ‘‘We did, but—I’m seeing somebody else.’’

Carl’s frown deepened. ‘‘Somebody else? Since yesterday? Who?’’ His gaze moved suspiciously to the roses.

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia could see Ilsa’s eyes widen.

‘‘Well, that’s it for the morning.’’ Seth walked into the office and stopped, looking from Carl to Olivia to the roses, and then back at Olivia again. He was wearing a well-cut navy suit with a white shirt and a red tie, and looked so tall and strong and handsome that Olivia’s heart beat faster. As their eyes met Olivia couldn’t help it: She had to smile. Seth smiled back at her, then glanced at Carl with disfavor.

‘‘It’s you!’’ Carl burst out, staring at Seth. ‘‘Isn’t it?’’

‘‘What’s me?’’ The look he gave Carl was definitely uncousinly.

‘‘You’re putting the moves on Olivia! That’s low! That’s so low! I can’t believe you’d do something like that! Mallory . . .’’ Carl seemed to choke with indignation. He glared at Seth with open belligerence.

Olivia came quickly out from behind the desk, just in case either party should start to lose his cool. As she stepped between them, shaking her head warningly at Seth, Seth grimaced, then looked over her head at Carl. Next Seth glanced at Ilsa, whose eyes were now as wide as saucers.

‘‘Okay,’’ he said, looking from Ilsa to Carl again, ‘‘here’s the deal. You can spread it around the whole company, the whole town, and get this over with. Mallory and I are no longer engaged. Olivia and I are seeing each other. End of story.’’

Carl’s gaze riveted on Olivia. ‘‘You’re going out with Seth?’’

Olivia nodded.

‘‘Well, that’s fine, then.’’ Carl didn’t sound like he believed it, but at least the words were dignified. ‘‘You’re certainly free to see whomever you choose.’’ His gaze still held a certain belligerence as it shot to Seth. ‘‘Fast work, cuz,’’ he said, and turned on his heel, leaving the office.

Olivia let out her breath on a slow sigh. Her eyes met Seth’s.

‘‘I have to drive to Baton Rouge to check on Big John during lunch,’’ Seth said, as calmly as if nothing had happened. ‘‘Want to come with me?’’

‘‘I’d love to,’’ Olivia answered.

Seth nodded. ‘‘Give me a minute, and we’ll go.’’ He walked into his office and shut the door.

Ilsa looked at Olivia. ‘‘Wow!’’ she said.

Olivia gave up. ‘‘I’m crazy about him,’’ she confessed. ‘‘Does it show?’’

‘‘Like a spotlight in a cave.’’ Ilsa clasped her hands together. ‘‘I’m so happy for you! I always thought he was way, way too good for Mallory!’’

Seth’s door opened again, and Ilsa immediately turned back to the file cabinet. But she sneaked a grin over her shoulder at Olivia as they left.

CHAPTER 49

OLIVIA WAS JUST STARTING TO READ ALOUD their nightly chapter of Little House in the Big Woods, when a knock sounded on Sara’s closed bedroom door. She and Sara exchanged a quick glance before Olivia put the book facedown on the bed and went to see who was there.

It was Seth. She’d last seen him in the kitchen about an hour earlier, drilling a balky Chloe on her multiplication tables. Sara, who’d had the same assignment, had learned hers in their free period at school, so Olivia had left Seth and Chloe to it and taken Sara upstairs. Dressed in casual khakis and a white T-shirt, Seth still looked faintly harassed. She smiled at him.

‘‘Sorry to interrupt,’’ he said, smiling back. He looked at Sara, who was tucked up in bed with Smokey nestled beside her, over Olivia’s shoulder. ‘‘Hi, Sara.’’ Then, to Olivia in a lowered voice, ‘‘Come out into the hall a minute.’’

‘‘I’ll be right back,’’ Olivia said to Sara, and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door almost closed behind her.

Seth slid a hand along the side of her neck, and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. ‘‘I just got a call from the hospital,’’ he said. ‘‘Big John’s having trouble breathing, and I’ve got to go. David’s already there, and Belinda’s on her way.’’

‘‘Oh, no!’’ Olivia said, grasping his arm. ‘‘Do you want me to come with you?’’

He shook his head. ‘‘It’s better if you stay here with the kids. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t wonder where I disappeared to.’’

Olivia smiled at him again, her eyes soft. ‘‘I’ll miss you.’’

His gaze moved over her face. ‘‘How about if I come and crawl into bed with you when I get back?’’

Her smile widened. ‘‘That’d be good.’’

‘‘Livvy . . .’’ He broke off whatever he’d been going to say, leaned down, and kissed her again, brief and hard. ‘‘See you later,’’ he said, and headed down the hall.

Olivia turned and went back into Sara’s room, to find herself instantly under the microscope of her daughter’s all-seeing eyes.

‘‘Mom,’’ she began, before Olivia had even reached the bed. ‘‘You really like Seth, don’t you?’’

Taken by surprise, Olivia looked at Sara carefully. ‘‘Of course I like him. What’s not to like?’’

‘‘Mom.’’ Sara’s voice was reproachful. ‘‘I mean
really
like him. Like for a boyfriend, or something.’’

‘‘Sara,’’ Olivia began, then decided to tell the truth. ‘‘Yes, I guess I do. Would you mind if he was my boyfriend?’’

Sara shook her head. ‘‘I like him, too. Only—are you going to marry him?’’

Olivia’s eyes widened. She hadn’t even let herself look that far ahead. ‘‘Nobody’s said anything about marriage.’’

Sara made a face. ‘‘If you do marry him, would that make Chloe and me sisters?’’

‘‘So far, he hasn’t asked me to marry him, so I wouldn’t worry about it.’’

‘‘But would it?’’

Olivia sighed. ‘‘Yes, I guess.’’

‘‘That’s what Chloe said.’’

‘‘
Chloe
said that you and she would be sisters if her dad and I got married?’’ Olivia stared at her daughter. ‘‘Does she think her dad and I are going to get married?’’

Sara shrugged. ‘‘She just said that if you and her dad got married, that would make her my big sister, so I’d have to do what she said, so I better get used to it. It was at recess, when she needed somebody to hold the rope for jump rope and I didn’t want to.’’

‘‘Sara.’’ Olivia sat down on the edge of Sara’s bed and looked earnestly at her daughter. ‘‘Seth is just going to be my boyfriend for right now.
If
we decide to get married, and you notice I say
if,
we’ll let you and Chloe know, and we’ll all work things out together then. Okay?’’

‘‘Okay,’’ Sara said. ‘‘I don’t mind having
Seth,
but I’m going to have to think about Chloe.’’

‘‘Well, don’t start to worry about it yet,’’ Olivia advised, and picked up their book.

By the time she left Sara’s room, had a bath, put on her nightgown—her prettiest, a deep pink nylon number with little cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline— and checked to make sure Sara was asleep, it was after eleven. Seth still wasn’t home—she knew he would come to her when he was—and as idiotic as it seemed, she was lonesome for him as she climbed into bed. It was amazing how fast she’d gotten used to the feel of his arms around her as she slept, to the solid warmth of his body next to hers, to the sound of his breathing.

She was so in love with him it was ridiculous, Olivia thought, smiling to herself. And she was still smiling when she fell asleep.

The sound of the door opening roused her, whether minutes or hours later Olivia couldn’t be sure. Seth crept quietly into the room, a large, shadowy presence in the dark, closing the door softly, being careful not to disturb her. Olivia cast a glance at the clock: 1:22 A.M.

‘‘Hi,’’ she said sleepily, turning to smile at him. He froze, then without any warning at all leaped at her with the agility of a gorilla. Grabbing her head painfully by the hair, he jerked her head back and shoved a soaked, smelly rag in her face when she tried to scream.

He was not Seth. He was not Seth!

Olivia’s last shocked thought, as she flailed and choked and tried to fight off the intruder, was that it couldn’t be happening again.