“A dog with PTSD.” Creed shook his head.
“Hey, you knew what you were getting into.” Emma leaned back, her brows narrowing. “Love me, love my dog.”
“And I love both.” Creed kissed the end of her nose. “You more than Moby.”
Emma’s frown cleared and she leaned against him. “That’s better.”
Molly forced a laugh past the lump in her throat. Creed and Emma had almost lost their lives in the struggle to capture the terrorists. Emma was one of Molly’s closest friends, like the sister she never had. “You two be careful in the fog.”
Emma hugged her. “You bet we will. And don’t go walking near the edge of the cliff tonight. Can’t have the ghosts of McGregor Manor pushing you over the edge.”
Molly laughed. “Hardly. As thick as the Devil’s Shroud is tonight, I’d miss seeing the edge and fall over sooner than being pushed. I’m not worried about the ghosts.”
Kayla shivered. “Personally, I’m more concerned about the ghosts than the fog.”
“See what you’ve done?” Gabe chucked his sister beneath her chin. “You weave a spooky tale, Molly McGregor. Kayla will be up all night imagining every little sound is the ghost that inhabits the lighthouse.”
Kayla shook her head. “Will not. I’m at peace with them. However, I’ve had an eerie feeling since I walked into the B&B this afternoon. Something feels different.”
A trickle of apprehension slithered down the back of Molly’s neck and she laughed, the sound less than confident. “It’s all hocus-pocus to entertain the guests.”
“Was any of it true?” Emma asked.
“The story is as true as hearsay. Ian and Rose did live here in the mansion. Ian built it for her, but how they died is all speculation. Their bodies were found at the base of the cliff. No one knows what really happened.”
“You mean the accident could have been a murder and the murderer got away?” Kayla hugged Gabe tighter. “Now, that’s something I’d rather I didn’t know.”
“I’d read about the McGregors when I was researching the history of Cape Churn, and you’re right,” Emma said. “Some of the letters written in that time talked about finding the couple at the base of the cliff. Nothing was mentioned about a murder or marital strife.”
“I found Rose’s diary hidden in a secret compartment of an old secretary desk in an upstairs room. She was very unhappy, fancying herself in love with the pirate. Now, whether or not she’d had an affair with him wasn’t mentioned in the diary. But it all makes for a great story.”
“You mean you really haven’t seen any ghosts?” Kayla asked.
Molly shrugged. “I’ve felt pockets of chilled air and thought I saw something once along the cliffs and twice in the house. I don’t know if it was power of suggestion or the real deal. I like to think I have an open mind.”
Kayla’s face paled. “As long as they aren’t malevolent.”
Molly laughed. “I don’t think so. So far, I haven’t experienced anything more dangerous than stubbing my toe on a piece of furniture. I like to think of them as my friendly ghosts.”
“I feel better already,” Kayla said. “Let’s go home, Gabe. I’ve done enough ghost hunting for the evening.”
Molly touched Kayla’s arm. “I’m sorry if the story disturbed you.”
“Oh, no, I just seem to feel things more. I never could watch scary movies or walk through graveyards.”
“And after you were attacked by a serial killer, I can imagine you’re even more sensitive.” Emma hugged Kayla. “You’re safe among friends now.”
Kayla smiled. “It’s nice to have friends. Well, Dakota and Tonya are waiting.” She turned toward the parking area, took one step and screamed.
Shadows moved and forms materialized out of the fog.
Molly’s heart leaped into her throat and she was just short of screaming herself when Casanova and Nicole emerged, rumpled, with their clothes torn and their skin scratched and bruised.
The five people on the porch rushed forward, Emma Jenkins, the nurse among them, pushing to the front. “What happened?” she asked, taking charge of inspecting their injuries.
“Brakes gave out,” Casanova said. “The fog was so thick it was too dangerous to navigate the road at breakneck speed. When we got to even steeper parts of the road, we decided to bail.”
Molly pressed a hand to her chest. “Dear Lord, you could have rolled off a cliff.”
Nova raked a hand through his dark hair. “I’m glad I couldn’t see what was off to the sides of the road. I remember sheer drop-offs along the way out here.” When Emma tried to look at the scrape on his elbow, he shook his head. “Check out Tazer first. She has more scrapes than I do.”
Emma moved on to Nicole. “Molly, do you have a first-aid kit with bandages, alcohol and gauze?”
“I do.” Molly turned and fled into the house in search of the things Emma would need. In the downstairs powder room, she leaned over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror without seeing her own reflection. They could have been killed.
She jerked open the cabinet door beneath the sink and retrieved the kit she kept on hand for emergencies like bug bites, cuts and scrapes, not bailing from vehicles speeding down a curvy road along a foggy cliffside. Her breath caught.
Footsteps behind her forced her to pull herself together. She turned, with a smile plastered to her face. “Here it is—”
Casanova stood in the doorway, an angry road burn on his cheek and chin, making him even more attractive and rugged than before. Almost dangerous. “You okay?” he asked, his voice warm and sexy.
She laughed, the sound more hysterical than she’d intended. “You’re asking me? You and Nicole jumped out of a runaway vehicle and you’re worried that I’m all right?” She shook her head. “I should take you straight to the hospital and have them examine your head.”
“I take that as a yes, you’re okay.” He grinned and took the kit from her shaking fingers. “I’m fine. Just a little bruised.”
“Thank God.” She touched her hand to his arm and jerked it back as the spark of electricity she’d experienced earlier jolted through her arm and down to that place that hadn’t been stirred in three long years.
What was it about Casanova that made her blood run hot and her body ache to touch him? Was it all in his name? He was charming, attractive and a smooth talker. And he probably broke hearts around the world with those dark eyes, big hands and sexy accent.
Her breathing became more labored, her body flushed with warmth, pooling at her core. The bathroom walls seemed to close in around them, making it even more intimate than a bathroom ought to be.
“I should get this out to Emma.” She ducked past him, her hip brushing against his, sending a rush of longing through her.
How long had it been since she’d dated? Since before her fiancé’s sailboat had disappeared in the Devil’s Shroud. His boat had returned to shore in pieces. Bill’s body had never been recovered. Three years had passed since then. Three years in which she’d thrown herself into refurbishing, remodeling and making McGregor B&B into the viable operation it was today.
“Oh, good.” Emma entered the house, leading Nicole. “I need to run water over the wounds to clean out the gravel and asphalt.”
“In here.” Once again, Molly passed Casanova to enter the bathroom. “You can use the sink or the bathtub.”
“I can do this myself,”