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"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 heard 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 t.o.s.s.e.r."
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 s.n.a.t.c.hers. 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 gla.s.ses 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 ma.s.saging 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 mola.s.ses to her toes and fingertips. She set her gla.s.s 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 pa.s.sion that had never been completely extinguished. And no matter how much loving they did, he thought, this pa.s.sion 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 s.e.x. "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 fl.u.s.tered. 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. She 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 h.e.l.l while you were in there?" he asked jokingly.
Stephanie patted her towel-wrapped head, and said, "The ghost from h.e.l.l 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 b.u.t.toned 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.
They pa.s.sed a small town, nothing more than a gas station, an all-purpose store, and a small white church. A few unimaginative ranch-style houses had been built close to the road, a two-story farmhouse sat farther back, surrounded by bleak fields. The term hardscrabble farm came to mind. She wondered if the owner of the truck lived on one of these no-frills farms.
"You've been very quiet," she said. "You haven't told me who owns the truck Melody was driving."
"Ted Grisham, the man who taught me how to make stink bombs."
Stephanie rubbed her hands together. "The plot thickens. Who's Ted Grisham?"
"A friend," he said tersely.
"Ouch."
"Yeah. That's what I think, too." Ivan slowed as they approached another little town of neat yards and small, well-tended houses. At the northern edge of town he pulled into the parking lot of a large brick structure that reminded her of the Knox Woolen Mill in Camden. "What is this?"
Ivan sighed and slumped in his seat. "This is"-he took a deep breath-"Rasmussen Leather Products. When I inherited Haben, I also inherited this." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "It's a shoe factory."
"You don't look too happy about it."
"I hate it. I've hated it all my life. I don't even like to wear shoes."