Relative Strangers Part 11

"Not to me. You could tell me about your family."

"There's not much to say." Her tone of voice made him certain there was a great deal more he wanted to learn about them.

Lucas discovered he wasn't tasting a bite of what was probably a delicious filet mignon. All his senses were occupied with Corrie. The delicate scent of her perfume teased him from across the table. As she lifted a dainty morsel to her mouth, his own mouth watered at the thought of touching those lips with his.

"You do have a family, right?"

She pretended to be fascinated by the seafood platter in front of her. "Yes, of course I do."

"You said the other day that your mother died last year at Christmas. It's never easy to lose a loved one, but it must be especially hard when the loss is a.s.sociated with a holiday."

"She died right after Christmas." Corrie's bitterness underscored every word. She speared a scallop with unnecessary force, nearly sending it skittering off her plate.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "If you'd rather not talk about it, I'll drop the subject."

But he'd gotten her started now. She stopped eating and fixed him with a level gaze. "She knocked herself out making everything perfect for my father and my brothers and their families. She put off going to a doctor about her own health. Put it off until it was too late to do anything. She died of cancer, cancer that would have been operable if they'd only caught it in time."

"I'm sorry," he said again. This time he meant it.

"I couldn't face being with them this year."

Them. Her father and brothers. "You blame them?"

"Yes, I do. Why didn't my father, who claimed to love her, notice that she was in pain? Why didn't he insist she take care of herself?" Corrie sighed and picked up her fork once more to toy with the food on her plate. "I blame myself too. I wasn't home a lot, but I could see she was too pale, too thin. It just never occurred to me that there could be something seriously wrong with her. She was my mother. She was supposed to be there for me. Always."

"Perhaps that's what your father thought as well."

"He's too self-centered. So are my brothers. As long as she was there to slave for them, they hardly noticed she was alive."

Her words shocked him. Corrie certainly had a different view of family and family commitments than he did. Or was it just that she was still hurting, still recovering from the loss of her mother?

"Family is too important to let an estrangement grow," he said. "Have you considered how much you'll regret this rift if it continues?"

"I didn't start it." She resumed eating, a clear hint that they'd said enough on this subject, but Lucas couldn't let it go.

"If they're as self-centered as you say, then it's up to you to mend fences."

"Oh, they'd like that. Another woman to take advantage of. Thank you, no." Her hand was trembling slightly as she reached for her winegla.s.s.

"Maybe they're feeling just as guilty about neglecting your mother as you are. Maybe if you talk to each other-"

"They don't talk. They lecture. Or try to boss me around." She sipped, and sipped again, then carefully put the gla.s.s down.

Lucas caught her hand before she could move it from the top of the table. Her head jerked up, her eyes startled as her gaze collided with his.

"And if your father has, say, a stroke, when you re still estranged? If he dies before you've reconciled?"

The stricken look on her face was enough to tell him he'd gotten through to her, even though her words continued to deny it. "This isn't any of your business, Lucas."

"You're right. It isn't. But I find I care about you, Corrie, and it's obvious this is tearing you apart."

With another sigh, she eased her hand out of his grip and off the table. He suspected both hands were now tightly clenched in her lap, but her voice sounded calm enough, almost matter-of-fact. "My family isn't like yours, Lucas. And sometimes a person has to choose personal desires over what the family wants. Haven't you ever been in that situation?"

"Oh, yes." Now he was the one who sounded bitter, the one who looked away. "I had to choose between my family and my wife."

He didn't need to tell her who had won.

They stuck with neutral topics for the remainder of the meal.

The moment Corrie entered her room that evening, she sensed another presence. Adrienne was waiting for her by the window. As soon as Corrie appeared, Adrienne walked to the door Corrie was still holding open, beckoning for her to follow.

"Well, finally. Some action."

Corrie was only sorry Lucas wasn't with her, but she was too afraid Adrienne would vanish again to stop and phone the front desk, where he would be until midnight. Besides, they hadn't parted on the best of terms. After they finally stopped talking about families, conversation had become rather stilted. He'd seemed almost relieved to have the excuse of getting back to work.

Without hesitation, Adrienne led the way into an unused portion of the hotel, where the scent of furniture polish and floor wax was overlaid with the heaviness of a thick coat of dust. It was also very cold in this unheated area. All of the radiators had been drained to save energy and keep the pipes from freezing.

Corrie wrapped her arms about herself for warmth, glad she was wearing a heavy sweater but wishing she'd thought to grab her coat.

Low-wattage bulbs lit the hallways and stairs, and Corrie would soon have been lost in the maze if not for Adrienne leading the way. Other than the two of them, not a creature was stirring, not even the legendary mouse. An eerie atmosphere compounded the emptiness. Corrie was relieved when Adrienne finally reached her goal and pa.s.sed over the threshold of one particular room. From the inside, Corrie heard a distinct clicking sound as the door was unlocked.

The first thing Corrie did after opening it was feel for the light switch. She wasn't at all sure she'd have gone in if bright illumination hadn't immediately flooded the room. Dustcovers protected the oversize furnishings, but a quick peek told her that the pieces were antiques, much like the ornate oak bed and armoire in her own room.

Cautiously, she looked around, trying to guess why the ghost had brought her to this particular room. "What am I supposed to find?" she asked aloud.

She didn't really expect an answer, at least not a verbal one, but neither was she prepared for what abruptly appeared in front of her eyes. Adrienne vanished. So did the dustcovers. There were now four people in the room. One man looked like Lucas. The others were Corrie's mother and grandparents.

Suddenly she knew this was Hugh, not Lucas. On closer inspection he looked younger than Lucas was now. And so real that she wanted to speak to him. Just in time she remembered that he wasn't really there with her at all. None of them were.

There was no sound in this vision. She could hear no words. But she hoped she never saw that particular expression of unrestrained fury on Hugh's son's face. As Hugh advanced on the young Alice Todd, Corrie closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was alone. The furniture was once more covered with drop cloths.

Suddenly weak-kneed, she sank down on the end of the bed. Why had Hugh been so angry at her mother?

"I'll check on it myself," Lucas said into the phone. A waiter had noticed there was a light on in one of the rooms in a closed wing of the hotel.

He expected to find a couple of teenagers. It wasn't unheard of for local kids, looking for a quiet and private place to make out, to sneak into an empty room at the Sinclair House. He'd done it himself once or twice when he was in high school. The doors to the rooms were kept locked, but the lack of a key had never been any match for overactive hormones.

It did surprise him that they'd left a light on. He spotted a pale yellow glow beneath a door as soon as he entered the empty wing. Grim-faced, he stalked toward it. At least they'd saved him the trouble of guessing which room they'd chosen.

The door opened easily, and Lucas stepped inside. Whatever he'd expected to find, it was not Corrie Ballantyne huddled on the edge of the bed, shivering uncontrollably. One glance at her face told him that something extraordinary had happened to her. He approached cautiously, his footfalls barely audible on the thick carpet, and called her name.

She looked up at him, a haunted expression on her pale face. "I saw her again."

"Adrienne?"

"Yes." Her bleak gaze warned him he wasn't going to like what she had to tell him. "Adrienne led me here, and I saw my mother and your father. He was yelling at her. I'm guessing she'd just told him about her sighting."

"My father does have a temper," Lucas admitted. "Exactly what did you see this time, Corrie?"

Color rushed into her face at his skeptical tone, but she complied with his request, filling in every detail she could dredge up.

As he listened, he sensed Corrie's discomfort and realized she didn't want to tell him what had happened. She was doing so only because she needed so badly to convince him it was true.

After she'd related all she'd seen, she took a deep breath. "I'd like to talk to your father."

He didn't reply, just held out his hand. She took it, following him into the hall and watching in strained silence as he locked the door behind them.

A futile gesture. Too little. Too late.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Corrie was probably right. They should talk to his father and ask him exactly what young Alice had claimed to have seen.

Thinking like that meant he was starting to believe Corrie's incredible story. The realization shook Lucas. What had happened to his common sense? His grip on reality?

They left the closed wing and reentered the warmth of the connecting corridor. "I know your father isn't able to talk," Corrie said, "but there must be some way to communicate with him."

"We've been experimenting with using a laptop computer, but even striking a key takes tremendous effort. I don't want him trying to do too much. And I don't want him getting upset."

They'd reached her room. She turned to face him, her back against the door. Obviously he wasn't going to be invited in.

"I'm not trying to cause problems, Lucas. You have to believe that. But I need to talk to him."

He did believe her. And he could tell that Corrie was not unscathed by this. She hadn't asked to be haunted. His concern for her was very nearly equal to his worry over what effect badgering his father might have on the older man's health.

"We'll talk to Pop together," he said. Questioning his own sanity would have to wait. He had enough else to worry about right now.

Her answering smile was a trifle crooked and tremendously endearing. "Thank you."

"I'll let you know when we can see him. I want to talk to his doctor first."

As he opened the door for her, his voice gentled and the sudden husky undertone had little connection to the words he actually spoke. "Just do me a favor," he said, "and stay put for the rest of the night."

At midmorning the next day, Lucas escorted Corrie to his parents' house. Hugh was waiting for them in the study, his laptop already in place on his knees, but Lucas had not yet told him the purpose of this visit.

"Pop," he began, "there have been some strange things going on at the hotel. We need your help."

There was a flicker of response in the older man's eyes. That seemed a good sign, but as Lucas pulled the desk chair close to Hugh's wheelchair and sat, he wondered just how much he really wanted to know. He was still fighting the idea that there were such things as ghosts.

"I've seen Adrienne again," Corrie said. She knelt on the other side of Hugh, so that they were eye to eye. "I'm trying to figure out what she wants, Mr. Sinclair, and to do that I need to know more about the other person who saw her. The teenage girl. She was my mother."

The look in Hugh's eyes might have been either embarra.s.sment or guilt.

"You didn't want to believe her, did you?" Corrie asked.

Hugh made no attempt to answer.

Concerned, Lucas looked from his father to Corrie. How far did she want to pursue this? Pop already seemed uneasy, and the doctor had warned them that another stroke was possible. He'd advised keeping Hugh calm.

"Let me tell you what I've seen," Corrie said.

"I don't want you getting him stirred up," Lucas warned her.

"Lucas, he knows something about this already. He's got to be wondering what's going on. This can only help." She turned back to Hugh. "Why were they staying here?" she asked. "The hotel was closed, wasn't it?"

Hugh nodded, but he made no move to touch the keyboard. He either could not or did not want to explain.

"Did they leave because of the fire danger?"

He nodded again.

"Had they planned to come back?"

A slight negative shake answered this time.

"Do you know what Adrienne tried to tell my mother?"

Another no.

"Why were you yelling at her? I saw that much. Adrienne showed me. You were in their room and furious at my mother. What had she said to you?"

Sweat stood out in beads on Hugh's forehead. He closed his eyes. His fingers remained motionless, as if he didn't know what he was supposed to do with the laptop.

"Corrie, that's enough!"

"But, Lucas, I-"

Her persistence goaded him into losing his temper. Seizing her by the arm, he rushed her out of the room before she could ask anything else. In the hallway, he pinned her against the wall, his hands on her shoulders, and glared down at her.

"This is my father, Corrie. Not yours. Cut him some slack."

"Lucas, this is important."

He snapped at her. "When it comes down to a choice between my family and anyone else, I put my family first."

"Anyone? Even-?"

"Even you, Corrie. The family comes before any woman. You want proof? My wife tried to make me choose between funneling money into the hotel we owned together and helping Pop after Kelvin's embezzlement. I'm here, aren't I? And she's not."

He raked one hand through his hair and wondered why on earth he'd mentioned Dina again. This situation was completely different. Wasn't it?

"Dammit, Lucas. What does your ex-wife have to do with Adrienne?"

"I'd have been back months earlier if I'd known the true state of affairs at the Sinclair House. She kept that from me. h.e.l.l, I might even have been in time to prevent some of the damage Kelvin did to the hotel."