Lady in White Page 3

  Andrew cocked his head. "If it's so bad, why don't you all insist on leaving?"

  "Simple; the politicians of all three main parties love the EU, and people still vote for them because they always vote for a particular party. I suspect it's the same here?"

  "Yeah." Andrew nodded. "You can register as a Democrat, a Republican, or an Independent. Families tend to vote the same party for generations."

  "Then it's the same. In Britain if a politician gets caught misbehaving they go straight down to Waterloo Station in London, hop on the Eurostar gravy train for Brussels, become a Commissioner and they're made for life."

  "You're a cynical bastard, Martin!" He narrowed his eyes. "It sounds to me like you could have another motive for coming over here. I hope you're not using Claudia to that end, pal, or you and me will fall out!"

  Martin felt his face grow hot, and he clenched his fists. He forced himself to stay calm. "Mr. Mackenzie, I'll admit, in many ways I'll be glad to leave Britain—much as it pains me to say so. But don't get me wrong! I'm not using Claudia as a means to an end! If you doubt my love for your daughter, sir, then I'll refuse to take up living here and we'll go live in Britain instead. Claudia told me only yesterday she'd be happy to be with me wherever we live."

  A silence stretched between them, with Andrew Mackenzie glaring suspiciously at him. Unblinking, Martin held his gaze.

  Eventually Andrew nodded. "Okay, I believe you. Sorry, I had to say it."

  "I understand. If I were in your shoes, I'd want to be sure too."

  "Okay." Andrew cleared his throat. "So, are you planning on taking up this ghost-hunting business full-time over here?"

  "I think I will. Claudia suggested it."

  "Nice to hear you listen to my daughter, but I'm not too surprised she took an interest in ghosts. She was always into spooky stuff when she was a kid. Hell, you should've seen her whenever Halloween rolled around!" He snorted. "Is there much call for this ghost-hunting thing? It sounds kind o' flaky."

  "I agree." Martin shrugged. "Yet these problems exist, and I can help people deal with them."

  "Hmm!" Andrew Mackenzie drank more Scotch and regarded Martin. "Well, I'm not a believer in ghosts myself. Never seen one, guess I never will. I know some do believe, but if they're fool enough to look for help beyond an established church, then that's their problem, I guess."

  Claudia and her mom entered with the coffee things just then, much to Martin's relief. Claudia handed him his cup and sat beside him on the settee; her eyes held an unspoken question. Martin gave a little shake of his head, and she rolled her eyes.

  "How are you two settling in up at Seacombe Field?" Marcia asked them.

  "Oh, it's just fine, Mom. It'll do until we can find someplace permanent of our own."

  "You know, you could always have stayed here," Marcia said with a hint of admonishment. "We wouldn't mind if you and Martin sleep in the same room." She winked at him. "We're not that old-fashioned."

  Martin felt his face grow hot, something he felt sure Andrew had picked up on, judging from the glint in his eye.

  Claudia flushed and shot Martin a quick glance. "It's fine, Mom, really. We feel more comfortable in our own place, however temporary."

  "Well, I guess you two know best," her mom said with a sigh.

  "How're you fixed for wheels, Martin?" Andrew inquired. "You'll need a vehicle over here."

  "Claudia's going to take me round some car salerooms next week so I can buy a runabout."

  "You're licensed to drive over here?"

  "Oh, yes. I have an international license. The tax office helped pay for the course; I sometimes have to go to Europe on revenue business."

  Andrew grunted. "Guess the revenue is good for something." He took a sip of Scotch then set the glass on the table. "So, you're in the market for a vehicle."

  It was not a question. Martin looked at Claudia; she looked at her father with narrowed eyes. "I was thinking of stopping by Walter's so Marty could look over their stock."

  "No need, honey," Andrew said with evident satisfaction and got to his feet. "I got just the thing for Marty in the garage. Want to take a look, Marty?"

  * * * *

  "It's a bit big." Martin looked dubiously at the hulking blue shape of the Chevrolet Suburban that filled one half of the double garage.

  "That's a good thing, Martin," Andrew said, giving the side of the vehicle a solid and affectionate thump. "A Chevy'll take a lot of punishment. The roads around here suffer with the extremes of temperature during the year, and in these winter months you'll be glad of the four wheel drive to get you through the snow and mud."

  "Perhaps." Martin gauged the size of the vehicle, and estimated how it would handle.

  "Come over tomorrow night and take it for a test drive." Andrew gestured expansively. "You'll pick it up in no time. After a week or two driving this beauty, you'll forget about those itty-bitty Brit cars."

  At Andrew's invitation, Martin climbed into the seemingly immense interior and tried the controls. "I'm glad I had some time getting used to American cars," he said with a wry smile.

  "We make the best, and don't let folks tell you the Japanese do better." Andrew grinned. "I'll let you have her for a reasonable rate."

  Martin felt lost for words but at that moment he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive.

  Andrew glanced at his watch. "That'll be Caroline. Boy, is she late! C'mon, Marty, let's go meet her."

  They made their way through the connecting door to the house. Marcia was already talking to her second daughter in the sitting room, and effected the introductions.

  Caroline Mackenzie was in her early-to-mid twenties, with long titian hair framing a pretty, oval face enhanced by a spray of fading summer freckles. She had a graceful, slender, small-breasted build enclosed in a sweatshirt and jogging pants. Physically, she bore only a slight resemblance to Claudia or her mother, coming in at five-five to their five-nine. The three shared a certain similarity in the green shade of their eyes, the shape of the nose and curve of their eyebrows, a way of holding their head when talking. Calm eyes regarded Martin as she shook hands, and she leaned close to bestow a formal peck on his cheek. He noticed a strong whiff of antiseptic about her as she moved; it puzzled him, given Caroline was a psychiatric nurse.

  "I'm so sorry I'm late, folks," she said in a tired voice as she dropped her purse on the hall table. "Something came up at work."

  "So we were told," Marcia replied, her glance keen. "It was a shame you had to work on Thanksgiving anyway. Weren't you able to call us yourself?"

  "Not at the time, so I asked Doctor Burwell to call for me." She smiled and squeezed her mother's hand. "I wanted to be sure you didn't worry."

  "That's a good girl." Her mother beamed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Martin noticed Claudia grimace.

  "Have you eaten, honey?" Marcia asked. "I saved you some dinner."

  Caroline pressed her hand to her stomach, and some indefinable emotion crossed her face. "It's okay, Mom; I'm really not hungry right now." She sat next to her father, who stroked her shoulder. Martin dared not look in Claudia's direction.

  Caroline looked at him. "Martin, I understand you're an expert in the paranormal?"

  "I am," he said and shrugged, surprised at the directness of her question. "Although I work for the British Inland Revenue, which can be spooky in its own right."

  "I'll bet!" Caroline gave a tiny smile. "Have you had many encounters with ghosts?"

  "I've had more than a few. I help out where I can." He smiled. "It was how I came to meet Claudia."

  Caroline gave her sister a loving glance. "So I gather. Claudie's been too modest when it comes to telling us about you. I'd like to hear about your career sometime."

  "Maybe that'd be best for a later date?" Marcia interposed. "Sorry, Martin, but I find tales of ghosts too unsettling." She stood up. "Now Caroline's here, I'll go get the photograph albums."

  "Oh, no! Mom!" Claud
ia looked aghast. "I was hoping we'd avoid that ritual." She glanced at Martin with a flush spreading over her face. "She does this every time I bring someone home. It's so embarrassing!"

  Martin felt the stab of jealousy when she spoke of other people, other men she'd brought home in her past; but it faded when he thought that he'd be the last. Complacency was an ugly temptation to bring on the wrath of the fates, but he felt right with Claudia in a way he'd never felt with anyone, even his ex-wife Jenny in their early days together.

  Marcia smiled down at her daughter, and Martin saw their resemblance in an even stronger form. "Honey, you know the only reason parents keep albums of their kids is to embarrass the living daylights out of them when they bring their dates around for the first time!"

  Caroline giggled, and Claudia shot her a furious look, which turned to sheepishness when she turned to Martin. "You'd better brace yourself, honey; this is going to get ugly!"

  Marcia laid three bulky albums on the coffee table, and then picked up the first and handed it to Martin. "These are Claudie's baby photos up to age three."

  He sneaked a sympathetic look at her; she sat blushing furiously next to him, as he perused the color pictures. The first page was a set of six depicting his nearest and dearest, aged all of two weeks at a guess, sitting with Marcia's help on a lacy cushion. Her pink little face was puckered in a sleepy scowl, in contrast to Marcia's beaming smile of maternal pride. The resemblance between Marcia then and Claudia now was even more striking.

  "Oh! Sorry, darling, but you do look sweet! I can see where you get your good looks from."

  "Aw, Martin, behave!" Marcia grinned but seemed pleased. "Save your flirting for my daughter."

  Martin smiled and glanced around at the family. Andrew snorted softly as he looked on, but his habitually stern features had softened and the look he gave his wife was full of love. Caroline smiled at Claudia with obvious affection, and even Claudia seemed in better humor.

  "Okay," she said, "I might as well get this over with." She pressed against him as she leaned to turn over the page. "These are me as I head into what Mom called the terrible two's…"

  * * * *

  Later, as Claudia and her parents were talking over a future dinner date, Caroline came over to where Martin stood looking at an oil painting of a prairie scene. "Do you like that?" she asked softly.

  He nodded. "Oh, yes. You have some wonderful scenery in this country."

  "Indiana has her moments. The south of the state is really beautiful. It's a shame you just missed the colors of the fall. Martin," she went on, touching his arm. "I need some advice about the paranormal. I…" She hesitated and glanced at her family, then went on in a low voice. "I had a spooky encounter today which scared me silly. It's why I was late, but please, don't tell my folks."

  "Really?" Martin looked at her in surprise. "You wouldn't like to give me a few details now, before we leave?"

  She shook her head. "No, they might overhear and they'll only worry. Ask Claudie for my cell number. Please, call me; we'll arrange a time to talk."

  Martin hesitated, and then nodded.

  Chapter Three

  "Well, that wasn't bad, but it could've gone better!" Claudia sighed as she walked into their hall and kicked off her shoes.

  He winked at her. "Yes—Claudie."

  She looked up at him, a dangerous glint in her eye. "Marty, don't go there!" She held up an admonitory finger. "Just…don't go there."

  "Understood, lover." Martin closed and locked the apartment door, then leaned against it. "I so wanted to get along with your dad, but he's a tough nut to crack. I know the bottle of Scotch helped break the ice, but he still seems so suspicious of me. I told him something of what Britain is like these days, and for a while there he thought I was running from there instead of running to you."

  "Did you tell him I want to be with you wherever you are?" she asked anxiously.

  "Yes, and I told him I felt exactly the same as you, darling." He shook his head. "Family can be difficult sometimes."

  "I know." She grimaced. "I've known Dad to do some mean things in his time, but I can't believe he sold you his old truck! He could've let you use it while you were here, so long as you put gas in it!" She stepped on one of her discarded shoes and kicked it away angrily.

  He walked over to her and took her into his arms. "It's not a problem, love. I know a bit about cars, and it looks like a good buy." He laughed ruefully. "Being British, I'm too polite to refuse a kind offer! But I'm sorry if I'm causing any ructions between you and your folks." He sighed, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Mmm! You smell wonderful!"

  "So do you, sweetheart." She stroked his back. "It's okay, honey. What problems there are between me and my folks were always there, and I guess they always will be. We've learned to live around them. Everything will be okay." She even sounded half-convinced.

  "You don't get along very well with Caroline," he said, thinking of the younger woman's strange approach.

  "Oh, we get along just fine." She set her teeth and grunted in mock pain. "Caroline's my kid sister; I should hate her! She should be borrowing my clothes without asking—well, apart from my bras. No doubt you saw she's a fully paid up member of the IBTC?"

  He blinked. "The what?"

  "The Itty-Bitty-Titty-Committee." Claudia touched her own breasts. "She's not got much up front."

  Laughing in spite of himself, he shook his head. "As if I'd go around ogling my girlfriend's sister!"

  She smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I know you wouldn't look at her that way, Marty," she said with evident patience. "I'm just asking if you noticed it in the course of things."

  "Yes, all right, I did." He nodded, feeling sheepish. "I did notice that much."

  "Don't worry about it. She'd tell me immediately if you did hit on her. Caroline's not one to steal my clothes and makeup…” She poked him in the stomach. "Or attempt to score with my handsome boyfriend! She doesn't do any of that. The girl's so damn saintly sometimes, she makes Mother Theresa look like Osama bin Laden! She volunteers to work on Thanksgiving every year to let other folks with family enjoy the break. Sheesh!" She touched his arm. "Don't get me wrong; I do love her, seriously."

  "I know you do. Claudia, she's worried about a paranormal encounter she had today. She asked me to ask you for her cell phone number, so I could arrange to talk to her about it."

  "Caroline? Caroline saw a ghost?" Claudia looked at him doubtfully. "Wow! It must've been due to overwork or something. She's never seen anything spooky that I know of. That was always my department when we were kids." She cocked her head and looked at him with interest. "Did she say what it was?"

  Martin shook his head. "No; it's what she wants to talk to me about."

  "You see what I mean?" Claudia groaned. "Rather than give you her number outright, she wanted me to know she'd approached you and not think she was trying to steal you." She shook her head. "The girl's so discreet, she's unbelievable! Remind me tomorrow morning, honey; I'll give it to you then."

  "What have you planned for tomorrow?" he asked, moving into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker.

  "If the license bureau is open in the morning, I'll formalize my Indiana driver’s license; in the afternoon I'll start prepping my papers for the office." She came up behind him and wrapped her arms about his waist. "What about you?" She pressed her head against his shoulders.

  "I've got some notes to finish up on the Catskill case, and I owe the editor of Occult Times an article on the Chestnut Mansion affair. Tomorrow night we'll pick up my new truck…" Claudia snorted in mock derision. "…and the day after I'll drive to Wally-world and buy some clothes."

  She smiled, and kissed him. "Sounds like a plan to me."

  * * * *

  As Martin prepared coffee, Claudia went through into the sitting room. He heard her turn on the TV, and then came the creak of the antiquated couch as her weight settled on it. The Channel Thirteen News came on just as he walked in with the cups, and she
grinned up at him sleepily. "Tired as I am, I'm not going to wait until tomorrow to ravish you, Mr. Grey." She chuckled. "What do you say we watch TV for a while then go to bed?"

  "Going to bed is always a pleasure with you, Ms. Mackenzie." He grinned, sat beside her, and squeezed her knee.

  *

  She drew up her skirt. Closing her hand about his, she slid it slowly up her thigh until it passed under the hem. A little further and Martin's fingers were pressing her panties against her pussy. "Maybe we should forget the TV?" she whispered, feeling the increasing warmth inside. The tiredness slipped away as the adrenaline began to flow through her bloodstream.

  His handsome face began to flush, and she smiled with a trace of wickedness. Marty had been approachable but so reserved when they first met. Getting him into her bed that night back in New York had been a minor triumph. But now he was slipping his arm around her waist, his lips meeting hers, fingers pressing up against her mound. That flush was no sign of embarrassment—but of love and ardor.

  A wave of warmth flowed through her, and she grew very moist, a fact not missed by Marty. Pressing her back on the sofa, he deftly hooked the crotch of her panties and tugged it aside, allowing his fingers free rein over her sex. She shivered and kissed him deeply as his fingertips ran slowly up and down her pussy lips in just the way she'd taught him she liked best. Pulling up the hem of his sweatshirt, she slid her hands underneath and stroked his warm skin, working her way upwards as she kissed him, feeling his muscles rippling under her touch. Lying back, she spread her legs in invitation, and he moved up and over and between her thighs, his comforting weight settling upon her.

  Martin stroked the hair from her face and gazed into her eyes, his expression tender. "I love you, Claudia Mackenzie."

  "I love you, Martin Grey," she whispered, and kissed him.

  Their kiss went on a long, long time, the world spinning away until a muscle in her back began to protest. Sighing, she pushed up against him, gently making him yield until she could sit up. Cupping his face in her hands she gazed at him. "I think this'd be better pursued in the bedroom."