Ollie Vance - Book One: Secrets and Sparks

Chapter Four

I’m not sure how I slept through the night but when I woke up, I felt wonderfully rested—I was also awfully late.

I called Mary Anne who had left five messages on my answering machine and assured her I was fine and coming in before lunch. 

I got dressed in a hurry and when I got downstairs, the rug and the blood were gone, there was a couple of cleaning ladies vacuuming and the window was temporarily sealed close with industrial-strength plastic.

One of the cleaning ladies told me they’d be done in about half an hour and that it was all paid for. My cellphone rang and it was Tristan.

“How’s the wrist? Did you sleep well?” he asked and I quelled the stirring inside me that started at the sound of his voice. I recalled how he kissed me last night. 

“The wrist is fine and yes, I slept well,” I answered as I rummaged through the kitchen for a glass of water. “How did you know I just got up? You can’t read my mind from a great distance, can you?”

I checked over my shoulder to make sure the cleaning ladies didn’t overhear my conversation.

“Not normally but minds I’ve been more acquainted with tend to be easier to connect to,” he answered. “Leave the house unlocked. Stigger is on his way with the installer for the window. I don’t want him to have to break down your door.”

“Okay, I will.” I stepped towards the kitchen window that looked out to the backyard. I couldn’t see any signs of the demon’s cremation. “About last night’s visitor. Has it been taken care of? I don’t see any—”

“Arabella’s taken care of it. You won’t see a speck,” he assured me.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. I paused. “By the way, how’s your door? I’m really sorry for—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted gently. “Arabella’s taken care of that too.”

“Is there anything that girl can’t do?” I asked but I was smiling. Thank God I didn’t have to pay for it and that Tristan didn’t have to have a door with a gunshot hole on the day of the Mansion’s opening.

“She’s special and she likes you,” he said. “I have to go, Ollie. Call me if there’s anything else you need.”

The withdrawal again. I pressed my lips together and nodded although he couldn’t see me. “Okay. Thanks again, Tristan. Bye.”

I bid the cleaning ladies goodbye and hopped into my pick up truck. 

Mary Anne and Patrick gave me a quick look-over when I bustled into the bakeshop but said nothing. 

The rest of the early afternoon had been busy but to my relief no one mentioned anything about last night’s events. It made sense. The Mansion and my house were on opposite sides of the lake, surrounded by trees and vast farmlands. They wouldn’t have heard—I hoped.

Finally, when the lunchers cleared, I managed to apologize to Mary Anne and Patrick and made up the excuse that I wasn’t feeling well last night, sprained my wrist when I fell off the bed and had trouble sleeping so when I finally did sleep, I overslept.

Mary Anne simply put a hand against my forehead and neck and Patrick ordered me to sit down and eat the roast beef sandwich he made for me. When there was only Lucy Clarence left on a corner having her coffee and a slice of raspberry-chocolate truffle cake while reading a Harlequin romance book, both Mary Anne and Patrick sat down with me with cups of freshly brewed coffee.

We were making final plans for the Summer Concert that weekend. The town held it every year just a week before the first day of summer. It was held in Southland Park and it was very popular, attended by local bands all over different states, their groupies and the tourists who have come in for a season of fishing, boating and lakeside fun.