The Pirate Ghost Read online

  “Okay, I stand corrected,” Tess said, laughing. “You seem to have a strong opinion on the matter.”

  “I don’t like to be thought of as a heathen,” he said. “No more, I suppose, than you want to be thought of as a girl. The word is just a means of address for me. And, in the days I come from, when hard work stole the youth from everybody, calling a woman a girl was a compliment. It had nothing to do with inferiority.”

  “I guess I’ve seen too many pirate movies,” Tess said. She rose to fill her coffee cup. “In the movies, the guys run around having sword fights and carousing with... well...whores.”

  “Of course there was some of that,” he admitted. “I don’t imagine there is much dueling going on these days, but is prostitution not allowed now, either?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, it’s a shame a woman isn’t allowed to earn a living by whatever means she might choose,” he said. “Most likely the clergy made that rule.”

  “They influenced it, I’m sure. But it’s hardly a decent profession!”

  “No, perhaps not.” He frowned. “I have the impression that women fill a great many jobs these days.”

  “They do.” Tess smiled. “Now, what on earth were you doing with that apple?”

  “Oh, it was a sorry state you found me in,” he said. “I’m feeling every year since I last ate a meal, Tess”

  “I can’t think how you’ll manage to do anything about your hunger,” Tess said.

  “Nor can I,” Gabriel admitted. “I’ve been fighting with that piece of fruit all the night long only to prove to myself that I’m incapable of eating it.”

  “Tell me something,” she said as she slipped two pieces of bread into her toaster and pushed the lever down, “what did you do all the time you were, you know, under the gulf?”

  “It was like I was half-asleep, not fully aware, and just drifting on the tide for the most part. Sometimes I’d be fully awake and have a look about me, but mostly it was like a long and dreary dream,” he said absently as he looked at the toaster. “Pardon me, but I’ve noticed that you managed to make a fine jug of coffee in no time at all. And now, if I’m not mistaken, you’re toasting bread for yourself. How is that possible?”

  “I’ve got an electric coffeemaker,” she said. “And the toaster is electric, too.”

  “Electric?”

  “Yes, well, that’s something they’ve come up with since you were here last. I don’t know how to explain it quickly except to say that there’s a bunch of receptacles around the place. There.” She pointed at the wall socket above the counter where the toaster was plugged in. “There’s power in each of those, and when we plug something in, the power goes into it, too.”

  “And I take it that this power turns into heat to brew the coffee and toast your bread,” he said.

  “Right. Just like with the lights.”

  “Ah, so that explains the mystery of your household lighting,” Gabriel said with a broad smile. “I was going to ask that last night, but thought I’d look foolish asking.”

  “You could never look foolish,” Tess said. “Not you.”

  “So that’s the cause of the remarkable cold within your small pantry, too?”

  “What? Oh, the refrigerator. Yes, that’s electric, too. Be careful not to get any electrical appliance wet, okay?”

  “And why would that be?”

  “You can get a nasty shock. It could even kill you. Well, not you,” she said, laughing. “But it can kill most people.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  Tess’s toast popped up and she buttered it quickly and applied a thin layer of apple jelly. “None of this helps you get something to eat, though, does it?”

  “No, that it doesn’t.”

  She took a bite of toast and then paused, looking at the man’s hungry eyes on her food. “Were you ever hungry... down there?”

  “No, not a whit.”

  “Never sleepy? Or cold?”

  “Neither,” he admitted.

  “What if you went back?”

  “Do you want to be rid of me?”

  “No, not that. But I was thinking that you might go back, or turn invisible, or something. Then you might get rid of your hunger.”

  “That is possible, I would think. But I’m not entirely certain how to get back.”

  “You can walk away just like you did on the beach,” she suggested.

  “I tried to leave your house last night thinking I might find edible fare outside,” Gabriel said. “But I couldn’t get out the door.”

  Tess scrubbed her fingers back through her hair, looking down at her toast hungrily. She had to get ready for work soon. “Well, try to describe what happened the other night again.”

  “I heard you splashing in the surf,” he said. “And, as I had on many occasions, I went toward the sound thinking I might be of assistance. Normally, I’m as good as not there. This time, however, I reached out and actually grabbed ahold of you.”

  “And carried me to shore.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then what? You went away, and I didn’t see you until you showed up last night. Where did you go?”

  “Into the water.” He shrugged. “Beyond that, I don’t know. Except, of course, that I thought of you and wondered how it was that I was allowed to touch you. I wondered if I could ever find out where you lived so that I might, well, see you again.”

  “And how did you manage to find me?”

  “You called my name,” he said. “I fairly flew to your side at the sound of it.”

  “I called, and you came running.”

  “Yes, but I’d be a liar to say it was voluntary. Not that I would have tarried,” he added quickly. “But I was suddenly transported here.”

  “Just like a fairy godfather,” Tess said.

  “Oh, I’d be glad to be that for you,” he said earnestly. “If only that much.”

  “I was sure glad to have your help. Wait! You walked away from me and returned to the ocean. What if I go to work and drive away from you? Do you think you might go back to the way you were again?”

  “Thereby alleviating my hunger without benefit of food,” Gabriel concluded.

  “Right. Do you think it will work?” Tess asked eagerly.

  “It might at that,” he agreed.

  “Great, then I’ll just get ready for work and be on my way,” she said. “Then you won’t be hungry.”

  “If you could do that for me, I’d surely be grateful. And, in the meantime, you would be well advised to finish your meal.” He pointed at her cold toast. “Don’t starve yourself in sympathy for my hunger. I didn’t pull you from the ocean for that.”

  TESS HAD TO HURRY. Her conversation with Gabriel had taken time she ordinarily spent dressing and so she was in a rush.

  As she blew her hair dry and buttoned her blouse in front of the mirror, she shuddered at the thought of how she’d come out to the kitchen this morning. Pajama clad and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she had been a sight, with not a hint of makeup and her hair a mess.

  He hadn’t seemed to notice, however. The way his eyes had stayed on her hadn’t shown anything but the deepest interest and the clear glow of desire. Or she’d been seeing more than was there. Maybe the light in his eyes was there simply because she was the only woman on Earth whom he could touch.

  She’d better keep on her toes with this man. He seemed to be a gentleman, but the fact was that he’d been without a woman for a very long time. Just as his appetite for food had come back to him now, other desires might overpower him, as well.

  But Tess had no time to worry. Besides, this morning, leaving the house might be a mission of mercy.

  AT TEN minutes before nine, when Tess left the house, Gabriel experienced a tugging in his chest. It was as if his heart were connected by some kind of invisible thread to Tess. He watched her strange metal-and-glass vehicle pull away rapidly, without benefit of horses to draw it along the road

&n
bsp; He felt his hunger increase rather than decrease. Then, suddenly, echoing the distance she was so rapidly putting between them, the hunger started to fade until it was entirely gone.

  He stood in her living room wondering what would happen next. It appeared that nothing was going to happen at all. Then, as though in answer to his unspoken question, the trousers he wore fell away. They slipped through his legs and landed in a heap on the floor.

  His shadow, a feeble darkening on the floor in the morning light, disappeared entirely, though he could still see himself. Then he lost contact with the floor and began drifting through the house. But he didn’t return to his watery grave.

  Instead, he moved through the rear of the house, passing out over the flagstone patio to look at the yard. It was outside, in the light of day, that an odd premonition overcame him. He felt something strangely foreign in the yard.

  A path of bent grass stretched across the small yard toward a building in the back. Yes, and the path was discolored, darkened slightly. He almost grasped what was odd about it, but the ringing of Tess’s doorbell caught his attention.

  Gabriel moved through the house again. Two men in dark uniforms were standing on her front step. They wore beaked caps and colored glasses, and shiny badges gleamed on the chests of their dark shirts.

  Gabriel didn’t need to be told who those ominously garbed strangers might be. An officer of the law needs no introduction, no matter what century it is.

  “She’s not home,” one of the men said.

  “We’ve got her business address,” the other younger one said. “We can catch her there.”

  “Catch her? You sound so eager,” the first man said. “We’re just calling on the victim’s ex-wife for identification. She’s not a suspect.”

  “Not yet. But I’ll bet it’s her.” The young officer laughed as they walked away. “She probably got stiffed on alimony or something.”

  Apparently, the fellow Tess had thrown from her home the night before had been killed. And, if Gabriel understood constables, Tess would soon be accused of the crime.

  Suddenly, his premonition returned. The discoloration on the grass had been... No, it can’t be. He flew back through the house, plaster and lath blurring past him. Yes, clearly something had been dragged over the lawn, leaving intermittent stains of rusty brown behind.

  “I’ll be damned entirely to hell if that’s not blood,” Gabriel said to himself. “The blackguard was killed here as we spoke last night!”

  And that meant that the intruder whom he’d turned away had probably been after Tess with the same intention! Now the law was after her, too, and the evidence of the crime was in plain sight.

  He had to warn her that she was being stalked by both a vicious murderer and the law! But their plan to separate had worked too well. He had no idea where to find her now!

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re late.”

  James Bentsen, general manager of Crowe Tool and Die, met her at the door at six minutes after nine. He was in his shirtsleeves, and they were rolled up and his tie loosened a bit at his collar, giving him the appearance of having been at work for hours already. Of course, his normal arrival time was at a quarter of the hour, which gave him enough time to adjust his wardrobe to greet the rest of the staff.

  “I’m sorry.” She bustled to her desk. “I had some unexpected house guests come in yesterday. I had to get them situated for the day.”

  “I should think that anyone old enough to arrive unannounced is also old enough to look out for themselves,” he snipped. “Don’t make a habit of being late, Teresa.”

  “I won’t, Mr. Bentsen.”

  Thankfully, he left her alone once she’d taken her place at her desk. The man seemed happy she had come in late. It gave him a chance to tell her not to do it again; it was the first opportunity he’d had.

  As she watched the officious manager walk away, Tess felt the stirrings of rebellion. It wasn’t the job itself that prompted these random feelings of rebellion, for she loved working with numbers. No, it was that man in particular.

  She’d been employed at Crowe Tool for just under six months, starting there after a lengthy job search that began when she’d filed papers for divorce. Once she hit the six-month mark, she would qualify for the employee health plan and receive a small raise in pay, both of which she desperately needed. So, she certainly couldn’t afford to quit a job that she basically liked just because of Mr. Bentsen, she reminded herself.

  Divorce hadn’t been easy. Sometimes, she wished she’d asked for alimony. She could have kept her new car rather than having to trade down to the dented old Toyota she was driving now. And she could have avoided bouncing her TV and stereo in and out of the pawnshop for most of the year.

  But, after a rocky job search, she was well situated in this position and about to knock a substantial chunk out of her monthly expenses by getting on the health plan. And, though she hadn’t used her accounting degree during her marriage to Darrell, she had proven herself capable at her profession. As long as she could learn to ignore people like Bentsen, she’d be fine. When she hit the six-month mark, she’d treat herself to a new dress and an evening out with her friend, Betty Crown, using the money that would have gone to her health premium.

  Tess glanced around. Her desk was one of three behind the reception counter in the main office of Crowe Tool. Beside her desk was that of Juanita Hunnicut, the office manager. The receptionist, Barb Davis, was seated in front of them; just behind the high counter. Juanita was on vacation this week, so only Tess and Barb were in the office.

  The company officers—James Bentsen, Paul Weatherly, who was vice president and head of sales, and company president, Burton Renfrew—each had his own office.

  Tess switched on her computer, letting it run through its opening routine while she took the billing slips from her IN basket and prepared to tally the company’s sales from the past week. It was rather routine work, but she hoped this job might become a stepping stone to more money and responsibility at another company.

  She thought briefly about Charles Dumont and his offer of employment, but shook that thought away with a wry smile. That offer was heavily laden with implications, none of them very businesslike. Besides, all she really knew about the guy was that he said he was a banker and dressed the part. Until she saw his office, with his name on the door, she wouldn’t think about any offers from him.

  Now she wished she hadn’t accepted his invitation to dinner tomorrow night. At the time, she hadn’t expected to ever see Gabriel again, hadn’t remembered his name for that matter. Yes, with Gabriel Dyer in the picture, she found herself mentally crossing Charlie Dumont off her dating list.

  Compared with Gabriel, no man she knew stood a chance. No man alive.

  She winced, trying not to wonder what it would be like to make love to a ghost. But they could touch each other. In fact, she was the only woman Gabriel could touch, presumably. How romantic! The thought of a man dedicated wholly to her, whose touch was meant only for her, was intriguing.

  But then the relationship wouldn’t be his choice, would it? He would be bound as a servant was bound to a master, loving her because she was the only one he could love. He’d as much as admitted that he’d come to her home last night because her call had transported him, rather than by conscious choice.

  A man who wasn’t free to leave couldn’t commit himself to a woman. And she’d never know if he did love her, then, would she?

  Stop thinking about love with a guy who drowned over three hundred years ago and pay attention to your work. Go on your date with Charlie and see what happens. Concentrate on the living.

  She could tell herself anything she wanted, but her thoughts strayed back to Gabriel Dyer anyway.

  She could still see the gleam of moonlight on his muscular chest, water glistening on his broad shoulders, and feel the touch of his strong hands carrying her to shore. The memory of his lips upon hers lingered, despite efforts to forget, and she
found herself wanting to feel them once more. Just the memory of his kiss gave her a tingling glow inside. He was a magnificent man, someone who would always be surrounded by an aura of strength and pride.

  Yes, he would always seem different in some intangible way, as if he were more confident than any modern man, more substantial. It was odd to feel that way about him, since he was technically less substantial, but there was a solidity in his demeanor that most men were lacking. Gabriel didn’t wait to see what was expected before showing what he was; he was up front with his personality.

  Of course, if he were alive, they’d have to do something with the hair. She didn’t know any men with hair that long these days, and it made him look like a rock musician....

  Tess blinked. She reminded herself that for the next eight hours, she owed her employer her complete concentration. Unfortunately, when she looked at the green numbers glowing on her screen, all she saw were Gabriel’s magnificent green eyes.

  “Hey, are you dreaming?”

  Tess looked up abruptly to see Betty Crown leaning on the edge of her desk. Betty was in charge of shipping, and she had been instrumental in securing Tess’s position for her. Tess had met the energetic blonde at the courthouse. Betty had been waiting to appear in traffic court the day Tess filed her divorce papers.

  “Gapped out a minute, I guess,” Tess admitted. “Was it that obvious?”

  “No, but you looked like a woman busy thinking about a man,” Betty said. “I called you last night. Did you have a date?”

  “Yes, I did,” Tess said.

  “The conspicuous lack of a smile seems to say it wasn’t much of a date. What’s the story?”

  “It was all right, but he’s not Mr. Right.”

  “So who is he, and where’d you meet him, and as long as he isn’t your Mr. Right, does he like blondes?”

  “His name is Charles Dumont, he’s a banker, and I met him on the beach near Bernie’s,” Tess replied. “I don’t know if he likes blondes or not.”

  “Out for a moonlight stroll?”

  “No, well, it’s a long story.” Tess shook her head, remembering how foolish she’d felt yesterday morning. “But the conclusion of the tale is that I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night and I wish I could get out of it.”