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Haunted (Harrison Investigation #1) - Page 43/64

“Charming thought,” Darcy said.

“Hm. I was just thinking. What do they do in these old places when they have rats?”

“Traps,” Darcy said. “Or exterminators. Or maybe even they bring in a cat.”

“Cat! Precisely.”

“Then…”

“Oh, I’m just thinking out loud at the moment,” he said. “Come on, I’m anxious to see this Wayside Inn, the heart of society in Stoneyville!”

As it turned out, Clint’s idea was not a bad one.

Matt had disappeared, but Clara Issy had been folding sheets in the laundry room and Carter had been working on his real estate papers in the stables; both were eager to spend some time out. Even Sam, the caretaker, joined them. Adam and Clara did the driving, since she was heading on home after and Adam never drank alcohol. Whether Darcy wanted one or not, he was determined that she had a drink—a big one.

When they arrived, the Wayside Inn was jumping. A band was playing a cross between rock and country and there were a number of pool players in action. Mae and a few younger barmaids were bustling about. Carter instantly challenged Darcy to a game of pool. She imagined that he was certain he could best her in a matter of minutes, but he was to be sadly mistaken. She could play the game with a decent skill.

David Jenner was playing at one of the tables when they arrived, and Delilah Dey was there as well, sitting at the bar. Since Carter had challenged Darcy, but David had possession of the table, Darcy suggested she partner up with David. That way, Carter could ask Delilah to be his partner.

Delilah was very pretty, and certainly, she was intelligent and savvy regarding Stoneyville.

But she was no pool player.

Darcy had thought that she might be somewhat distracted from the afternoon events, but she wasn’t. She sank three balls on the break, and within a matter of minutes, she and David emerged the winners.

“My turn!” Clint challenged.

“Who’s partnering who?” Carter asked.

“One on one. Darcy and me,” Clint said.

An “Ooooh!” went out through the bar.

Darcy laughed, feeling her competitive spirit rising.

“What’s the bet?” she asked.

“Winner takes all, of course,” Clint said.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Let me think,” Clint said, then brightened. “I know. You and me. Dinner—somewhere other than here. And a movie.”

“Go for it, Darcy!” Adam told her.

“I can beat you, you know,” she told Clint.

“Maybe. And then maybe, hey, the South shall rise again!” Clint teased. “What can you lose? A night out.”

“That’s if I lose?” she said, laughing.

“If you win, you get to pay,” Clint told her.

She grinned, and bent down to slide her cue.

This time, the game was tough, and it seemed that it went on and on. The entire bar seemed to tune in, and even the musicians went on break to make comments, call out encouragements, and monitor the game.

Darcy was caught up in the contest, enjoying the challenge. Clint was good, very good. When she took the first game, he called for two out of three.

She lost the second.

They started the third.

Clint made a shot which left her with a dangerous play. Her only shot would set her dangerously close to the eight ball. As she walked around the table judging angles and distances, she became aware of the sensation of being watched.

It was strangely familiar, and yet…

Not at all unearthly.

Of course, she was being watched. Everyone in the bar was watching her.

And still…such a strange feeling.

She hesitated, straightened, and looked around.

She was startled to see Matt at the bar. But he was the only one in the room not watching her. He was on a stool between Adam and Penny, talking to Mae, who was behind the counter.

She gave herself a shake, unnerved by both the sensation, and the fact that Matt was there.

“Ms. Tremayne…?” Clint prodded, grinning.

“You think you’ve got me, don’t you?” she said.

“I think you’re in a tough spot,” he said.

“Check—but not checkmate,” she told him.

She would not let Matt ruin the good time she’d been having here tonight. Very carefully, she gave her attention to the game, focusing.

She made the shot, setting up the eight ball so that she could easily call the side pocket. A second later, she sank it as well, and victory was hers.

Her effort was met with thunderous applause, and a round of congratulations from the friendly folk around her. She smiled, and saw that Adam was watching from the bar, and that he seemed very pleased to see her having a good time.

Matt still hadn’t glanced her way.

Clint set his cue down and walked away, but came right back, bearing two beers, one for her, one for himself. He clicked his bottle to hers. “I concede. With tremendous graciousness, of course.”

“Thanks.”

They both leaned against the table. He looked at her, smiling ruefully, shaking his head. “So you can play pool, too. Who would have known?”

“My dad liked pool,” she told him.

“I’m supposed to be pretty good, you know,” Clint said. He leaned closer to her suddenly. “Don’t look now, but Carter is putting the moves on Delilah at last.”

“Good for him,” Darcy said.

“Not a bad match,” Clint mused. “He prefers to hang around Melody House, but Carter’s quite a mogul. He needs to clean up a few of his holdings, but, hey, he has invested in a number of good land and property deals. And there’s the young councilwoman. Should work out well, don’t you think?”

Darcy nodding, sipping her beer, studying Clint. “What do you want out of life, Clint?”

He laughed suddenly. “Am I nothing more than a sad reprobate, living off the largesse of my far more responsible family member?” he said.

“I did not ask a question anything like that!” she protested.

“I’ve actually been working very hard on a project that should come through at any time,” he told her. “But don’t give me away, huh?”

“I can’t give you away. I don’t know anything about it,” Darcy told him.

“Hm.” He studied her. “You can’t read my mind?”

“No.”

“And…” He hesitated. “You really don’t know anything more than what you’re saying about the ghost at Melody House.”

“No. I can intuit things, sometimes, but I can’t read minds,” she told him.

His grin deepened. “That’s good.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d probably want to slap a lot of people a lot of the time, if you knew what they were thinking.”

“In a strange way, I think that’s a compliment.”

“It’s meant as a compliment—even if a strange one.” He lowered his head to whisper against her ear. “What do you think old Matt is doing here?”

“Having a beer.”

“I don’t think he can let you out of his sight.”

“I think he’d be delighted for me to be permanently out of his sight.”

Clint shook his head. “No. You’ve gotten under his skin. Big time. He’s just being a jerk. Want to make him jealous?”

Darcy smiled. “Thanks—but no.”

“He’s nuts about you. And he should just admit it.”

Darcy touched his cheek affectionately. “Clint, I’ll agree that he was attracted to me. But nothing will go beyond that.”

“Why?”

“He can’t deal with me.”

Clint weighed that for a minute. “He can’t deal with his fear for you.”

“Why should he be afraid for me?”

“Darcy, you should have seen him last night. Of course…”

“Of course what?” she demanded.

“I’ll tell you myself. It was damned scary. And this afternoon was worse.”

She didn’t answer him, but took a long swig of her beer.

“Darcy,” he said, “could you take on a past experience with such reality that you could die?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No. I never get into a trance or allow myself to be hypnotized unless Adam is running things. I trust him implicitly. So…it never gets that far. He says a single word, and I snap out of it.”

“Not today.”

“What do you mean?”

“He spoke to you twice before you recognized his command.”

“He probably didn’t speak loudly enough,” Darcy said.

“He spoke loudly,” Clint told her. “Darcy, I have to admit, this afternoon was scarier than last night. I know how determined and confident you are, but…maybe you ought to just drop this case. What if you wind up being in the soul or spirit or whatever it is of the ghost—and unable to get out? Today it was as if…as if you were dying.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“Still, Darcy,” he said, “Aren’t you ever scared yourself?”

“Terrified, at times,” she assured him.

“Then why do you do this?” he asked.

“Why do people become cops, or firefighters? What I do is nowhere near as dangerous as anything like that.”

Clint exhaled, shaking his head as he looked at her, and yet doing so with a certain admiration. “You are a good kid, Darcy. Still, you should give this one up.”

“I can’t,” she said simply, and determined to change the subject. “What about you, Clint? What is it that you really want out of life?”

“I think I’m going to get it very soon,” he said.

“What?” she pursued.

“I’m afraid if I tell anyone, I’m going to jinx myself,” he said, laughing. “Hey, but I’m not the old ne’er-do-well you think I am. Ask Matt. Penny runs the household, Matt is the sheriff. Sure, he has final say. And, of course, we have Sam to run the grounds. But who do you think makes sure that the little things get done on a day-to-day basis? I find the right roofers and carpenters, I see that the outbuildings are repaired. I’m not such a bad guy, really.”



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