Love Overboard

  “Thank heaven Amos had been smart enough to pre-position backups. When everything started going wrong, he managed to knock the gun away from my head. People tell me he picked me up and threw me into the river like a Frisbee. I’d be dead if he hadn’t.”

  “How’d they find out you were a cop?”

  “One of the other women working under-cover was setting up her own retirement plan, compliments of the mob. She’d provided them with photographs of all the narcs and all the undercover people, and this guy suddenly recognized me.”

  She was amazed at how easy it had been to retell the story. A few weeks ago she could hardly bear to think about it. She’d crammed a lot of personal growth into a few weeks. Because of Ivan, she thought. It seemed as if she’d known him all her life. He’d given her other things to think about besides death and stupidity.

  “I stayed with the case until we wrapped it up, but I’d changed. Somewhere between the pier and the river, my love affair with law enforcement died a quick death. I asked myself, did I want to spend the rest of my life getting tossed into the Hudson River? And the answer was no.

  “Looking back, I think I was just burned out. I was tired of being submerged in an adolescent world. I was becoming jaded by the easy access and the acceptance of drugs. It was starting to seem too normal to me. When I was standing on that pier with a gun at my head, I should have been outraged, but I wasn’t. I was just plain scared. Somewhere along the line I’d stopped being a tough idealist.”

  Ivan took the empty cup from her and screwed it back onto the thermos. “I don’t think so. If you’d really stopped being a tough idealist, you wouldn’t care that you’d stopped. You just needed a vacation. Maybe your views on life were adjusting to meet more realistic expectations. That happens as we get older,” he said, smiling.

  “Did that happen to you?”

  “To some extent. I have a better sense of my limitations. That doesn’t mean I always live within them,” he added ruefully.

  Stephanie caught a flash of movement at the top of the house and put a silencing hand on Ivan’s arm. “The cupola,” she whispered. Someone was up there, moving onto the widow’s walk. No moon. No stars. Nature wasn’t helping out, Stephanie thought, straining to see. A second form appeared. It stood ramrod straight, and Stephanie shivered. “Tell me that’s not a body bag.”

  Ivan only grunted. It was obviously a body bag, and it was filled with a body. A big, stiff, dead body.

  The black plastic body bag was lowered by rope down the sloping roof and dangled at the second-story level for a minute before being cut loose. It hit the ground with a sickening thud that made Stephanie and Ivan recoil in horror. They waited a moment while the person on the widow’s walk retreated, then they ran to the inert form lying on the ground. Ivan partially unzipped the bag.

  “It’s the old guy in the gray suit.” He zipped the bag back up and pulled Stephanie across the lawn, back to the spruce tree, where they flopped on the ground, panting.

  Stephanie gasped for air. “Do you think anyone saw us?”

  “Only the guy in the body bag, and he looked as though he could keep a secret.”

  The back door opened and a dark figure emerged. It went directly to the bag, covered it with leaves, and scuttled back into the house.

  “That’s why I could never find him,” Ivan said. “They’ve been pitching him out windows and off roofs and covering him with leaves. I never thought to look under that huge pile of leaves.”

  “This is disgusting. What kind of a person are we dealing with? Someone who throws bodies off roofs?”

  There was the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Headlights briefly flashed on the carriage house that had been converted into a garage, then were extinguished. A battered pickup truck crept along in the dark and stopped. Stephanie caught her breath when Melody got out of the pickup, lowered the tail-gate, took a carton from the back of the truck, and carefully carried it into the house.

  “This is really strange,” Stephanie said. “I haven’t any idea what’s going on. I can’t even begin to guess.”

  “You think we should go in and find out?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s stay here a while longer. See what happens next.”

  Half an hour later, lights flashed on in all the upstairs rooms. Doors slammed, windows were thrown open. Lights appeared in the downstairs rooms, and people began pouring out. Stephanie and Ivan left their cover to investigate.

  Mr. Billings reeled off the front porch. “Man, what a stench. I’ve been at lots of ghost sightings, but I’ve never smelled anything like this.”

  “It’s a ghost from hell,” Melody said.

  Mr. Billings buttoned his overcoat over his pajamas. “Nothing could get me to go back in there.”

  “But Mr. Billings,” Melody said, “your clothes are in there. You’re paid up for the night.”

  “I don’t care if I’m paid up for the year. Here’s my address. Send my clothes UPS.”

  Two cars pulled out of the side yard parking area and disappeared down the street.

  Melody smiled at the departing cars. “Gee, what a shame, everyone’s leaving.”

  The heavyset woman in the shawl stood on the sidewalk and looked at the house. “This happen often?”

  “Yeah,” Melody said. “Sometimes it smells like this all winter. You get used to it.”

  The woman sniffed her shawl. “It’s in my clothes.”

  “If you let them air out for a couple weeks, they should be okay,” Melody told her. “It’s the slime stains that don’t come out. You were lucky you weren’t slimed. Well, I think the worst of it’s over. We can all go back to sleep now.”

  The woman pressed her lips together. “Are you crazy? I’m not going back in there.”

  Melody put her arm around the woman. “Don’t worry about the slime. It almost always comes before the smell.”

  “I don’t think this house is haunted. I think it’s possessed. And I think you’re one step away from the funny farm.”

  Melody narrowed her eyes. “No need to get personal about this.”

  The woman picked up her suitcase and turned on her heel. “I’m leaving. And I’m not paying for my room.”

  “Fine,” Melody said. “You don’t like rude ghosts? That’s okay by me. I understand. Sorry this didn’t work out for you.”

  Lucy was on the front lawn, fanning the air around her. “Ghost from hell?”

  “I couldn’t stand those people a second longer,” Melody said. “They were so boring.”

  Stephanie kept her distance from the house. “According to my calculations, we haven’t a single guest left.”

  “With friends like Melody, you don’t need enemies,” Ivan whispered.

  “So, you think Melody’s responsible for this?”

  “Yup. Don’t you?”

  “I think she’s responsible for the smell. I can’t believe she’s responsible for the dead man and all the things that have been going wrong with my house.” She tried not to smile. “I hate to admit it, and I’d never tell Melody, but I’m definitely relieved to be rid of those people. They were awful.” She backed farther down the sidewalk. “What is that smell?”

  “Grade A Maine stink bomb,” Ivan said. “I used to make them all the time when I was a kid.”

  “I bet you were really popular.”

  “I could close a school down with one of those.”

  “Is it going to last long?”

  “Somewhere between a day and a week. I’d say closer to a week. This one is pretty powerful. Whoever made this was a master stink bomb maker.”

  Lucy ambled over to them. “Smells like one of your stink bombs, Ivan.”

  “Yup.”

  “Clever,” she said.

  “I didn’t do it.”

  Lucy looked surprised. “You’re the only one I know who can build a stink bomb like that.” She looked at Stephanie. “He was great. He used to close down the school!”

  They he
ard the motor catch on the pickup at the rear of the house and turned in time to see the truck peel out of the driveway. Even in the dark, it was easy to recognize Melody’s orange hair. A second person sat beside her.

  Stephanie grabbed Ivan’s arm. “It’s Melody! And she’s with someone.”

  “Yeah. Probably the body tosser.”

  Stephanie felt the disappointment squeezing her heart. She could forgive Melody for the stink bomb. Desecrating the dead was something else. “They’re getting away.”

  “And they’ve probably got the body,” Ivan said, walking to the backyard, giving a wide berth to the house.

  Lucy tagged along. “Somebody want to tell me what you’re talking about?”

  “We saw someone throw the old geezer in the gray suit off the roof. And then we saw Melody drive that pickup into the yard and take a box into the house.” Ivan kicked at the scattered leaves. “This is where they hid the body. It’s gone, of course.”

  Lucy yawned. “I’d probably be more excited about this if I hadn’t spent the past fourteen hours cooking and cleaning up after ten people who would have tried the patience of Mother Teresa. I’m too tired to think about mysterious dead guys. It’s after midnight, and I’m beat. I’m going to hold my breath and dash into the house to retrieve my purse, then I’m going to move in with my parents until Haben smells better.”

  Ivan took Stephanie’s hand. “Let’s open some windows and lock up the downstairs. We can spend the night on the Savage.”

  “I hate to go off and just leave Haben empty. Suppose one of the guests decides to come back?”

  “Believe me, no one is coming back to Haben tonight.”

  “Suppose Melody comes back?”

  Ivan gathered her to him and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I don’t think she will.”

  Stephanie fought back tears. “How could she do this to me? I trusted her.”

  “Let’s let it rest for tonight and pick it up in the morning when we’re not so tired,” Ivan said.

  “That poor dead man. My Lord, they’ve been throwing him out windows and dropping him off roofs.”

  He had to admit, it was pretty grisly.

  Stephanie gave an involuntary shiver. “It’s like a horror movie. Invasion of the Punk Body Snatchers. I was wrong not to call the police. I suppose all along I expected it to turn out to be some tasteless practical joke.”

  “Maybe that’s all it is.”

  “You don’t sound very convinced.” She shook her head. “No. I’ve got to report this.”

  He didn’t want her to. Not yet. First he had to do some investigating of his own. “Wait a while longer. At least until tomorrow.” Ivan’s eyes focused on her mouth. His lips softened and brushed against hers. “You know what we need? We need a fun activity. Like going to bed.”

  Half an hour later Ivan closed the hatch cover to the aft cabins and lit one of the two oil lamps that hung suspended from the small salon ceiling. He started a fire in the delft fireplace and stood in front of it for a moment, warming his hands, trying to dispel the feeling of unease that sat heavy in his stomach. Something very odd was happening, and he had a sick feeling that it involved old friends.

  Tomorrow he was going to get to the root of it, but for the moment he was going to try to forget about it and concentrate on Stephanie. He finally had her alone—really alone—and he intended to make the most of it.

  “You know, the best way to survive in the cold is to get naked with a friend.”

  Stephanie’s breath came out in a cloud of frost as she huddled in a wool blanket. “That’s a vicious rumor started a hundred years ago by some pervert who didn’t have central heating.”

  She was looking forward to snuggling with Ivan in the cozy bunk, but she couldn’t imagine taking her clothes off in the freezing cabin. She tapped her toes and wrapped the blanket tighter, waiting for the fire to bake away the chill and the dampness, hoping it would happen soon. “So you think this fire’s going to get us toasty, huh?”

  “You look doubtful.”

  “It’s not a very big fireplace.”

  “It’s not a very big room,” he said, going into his cabin and returning with a bottle of brandy and two snifters. He poured the brandy and handed one of the glasses to Stephanie. “Here’s to love and friendship and honesty.”

  Stephanie sipped the brandy and felt fire burn down her throat and race through her body. She took another sip, and the vertebrae in her back relaxed. “Were you thinking of Melody when you made that toast?”

  He slid his hands inside her blanket, his fingers massaging lazy circles on either side of her spine. “No. I was thinking of us.”

  She was growing deliciously warm deep inside. It was a drugging liquid heat, working its way along her spine, moving like hot molasses to her toes and fingertips. She set her glass on the table and let the blanket slip from her shoulders.

  “This looks promising,” Ivan said. “Getting hot?”

  “It’s the brandy.”

  “Mmmm. I keep it for medical emergencies.”

  Stephanie moved closer, fitting herself into all the hollows and crevices that naturally occurred between men and women. “Am I a medical emergency?”

  “No. But I would have been one if you hadn’t warmed up.”

  He kissed her, and the kiss lingered while his hands roamed over her body, rekindling a passion that had never been completely extinguished. And no matter how much loving they did, he thought, this passion would always smolder. He would never have enough of her. Never tire of her. Never stop loving her. He eased her onto his bunk and quickly stripped her of her clothes. He knew all her secrets now. He knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, where to tease.

  “I could get used to this,” Stephanie said. “Sunlight and fresh sea air spilling in through an open window, the lingering aroma of a wood fire from the night before, and a handsome man bringing me my morning coffee.”

  Ivan sat on the edge of his bunk and watched her. She was warm and rumpled-looking in his T-shirt, and she smelled wonderful—an exotic blend of pine needles, flowery shampoo, and sex. “Is that all I am to you? A handsome man?” His tone was teasing, but his question was serious.

  “Maybe a little more.”

  He continued to watch.

  “Maybe a lot more,” she amended.

  He wondered if it was the right time, decided it wasn’t. And knew he was going to ask anyway. “Will you marry me?”

  The question hung in the air while time seemed to stand still. She stared at him wide- eyed, never noticing that she’d slopped coffee over the rim of the mug onto her hand.

  Ivan grabbed a towel and mopped up. “Took you by surprise, huh?”

  “Are you serious?”

  He recognized the panic on her face and silently cursed himself for being so blunt. He should have waited and taken her out to a nice restaurant, brought her flowers. He wasn’t good at this. He’d spent his whole life avoiding ties and entanglements. He’d asked her to marry him in the same tone of voice he would have used to offer her hockey tickets.

  He kissed the hand she’d spilled coffee on and tried it again. “I love you, Steph, and I want to marry you.” You can’t get much more serious than this, he thought. It wasn’t a frivolous, spur-of-the-moment decision. He’d waited for her for a long time, and he knew it was right.

  Stephanie couldn’t remember ever feeling so totally flustered. Marriage! She still hadn’t completely gotten used to the idea of having a lover. “It’s so sudden,” she stammered. “I wasn’t expecting this.” In her heart she might have been wanting it, but she definitely hadn’t been expecting it.

  “I can give you some time, if that’s what you need. We have all winter to get to know each other.”

  It wasn’t a matter of time, she thought. It was a matter of… she didn’t know.

  “Do you love me?”

  “Yes.” And she realized she felt secure in that love. What she felt for Ivan wasn’t infatuation. It was real. Sh
e couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone more.

  “Then think about it.”

  She nodded. “I’ll think about it as soon as I stop hyperventilating.”

  He took the coffee cup from her and kicked the cabin door closed. “I know a good remedy for hyperventilation.”

  Chapter 10

  The noxious odor still clung to the curtains and upholstery, but with the windows wide open and a table fan blowing full tilt, the upstairs bathroom was usable. Stephanie dashed from the shower, jumped into clothes purchased half an hour before, and ran from the house. Ivan snagged her on the front lawn and wrapped a dry towel around her wet hair. “Did you see the ghost from hell while you were in there?” he asked jokingly.

  Stephanie patted her towel-wrapped head, and said, “The ghost from hell is probably in Kansas City right now with Melody.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “I recognized the truck she was driving, and it wasn’t from Kansas City.”

  “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  Ivan buttoned her into a new wool jacket. “We were busy last night.”

  She felt a flush of heat at the memory. “Mmmm, so we were.”

  “Since the inn is indefinitely closed, and we have some time on our hands, I think we should go for a drive in the country and look up Melody.”

  Forty-five minutes later they left Route 1 for a secondary road. Stephanie studied the smooth leather upholstery of Ivan’s black SUV, thinking the car suited him—but then so would a Viper. He was a complicated person. Full of surprises and contradictions.

  He’d been silent since they’d left Camden, and she knew he was giving her time to reorganize her thoughts about their relationship. About marriage. Marriage. Lord, she could hardly run the word through her mind without feeling hysteria bubble up in her throat. Ivan Rasmussen wanted to marry her. It was beyond her wildest dreams. It was flattering. It was frightening. It was hard to believe. Stephanie Rasmussen. Preposterous. And wonderful.