bathroom door was open, the light off inside. She checked the study; the door was open, the light was off and nothing stirred inside.
Which left the front porch.
Molly lifted the flashlight from the charger by the door and gripped the handle, shivering. Butterflies crowded her belly as she stepped out. The porch light had been turned off and the only light to see by was shining through the window of the front lounge from a small lamp. It barely diffused through the thick fog creeping in at the corner of the long, wide porch.
Molly looked right then left and saw no sign of Casanova. A soft sound penetrated the cloak of mist surrounding the house.
Molly strained to make it out. It sounded like someone sobbing.
“Help me.”
More sobbing. The sound, like that of a child or young woman, came from toward the rocky cliffs, more a faint whisper, almost nonexistent. At first she thought she might be imagining it, after all the talk about ghosts. Or that the sea splashing against the rocky shore below had somehow created its own echoing call. Molly’s heartbeat kicked into high gear.
“Help me.”
There it was again. Molly stepped down the porch steps, breaking every rule she’d ever given her guests. If someone was in danger, she couldn’t just leave that person alone out there.
When her feet touched the ground, she switched on the flashlight, the beam bouncing back at her against the wall of pea-soup fog.
If she were smart, she’d march her butt right back into the house and get someone else to help her.
Then again, everyone was settling in for the night. What if she were wrong and the sound was just her overactive imagination?
Maybe, if she walked to the end of the house, keeping the porch and walls within sight, she’d hear the sound more clearly and determine if it was out by the cliffs or close to the house. Or not there at all.
She inched her way alongside the railing, her flashlight pointed at the ground in front of her. She knew the yard was safe, but once a person stepped outside the glow of light, she’d be lost in a fog. Had one of her guests gone on her own personal ghost hunt alone and wandered too far away from the house?
Sheesh, maybe telling the story of seeing Rose by the cliff had been too tempting to one of the members of the tour group.
“Help me.”
The cool, damp night air pushed through the threads of her cardigan, chilling Molly. “Who’s out there?” she called out, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and moved to the end of the house, toward the sea. “Hello?”
Molly took another step, taking her away from the safety of the structure. She turned and shone her light at the porch. The fog swirled between her and the porch, but it was still within sight.
She took another step and another. On the third, she turned back and shone her light at the wall of fog.
Her heart leaped to her throat and she stepped back in what she hoped was the direction she’d come. For a moment she didn’t see the deck; when it came into sight, she wanted to throw her arms around the railing. Instead, she stood for a moment gathering her wits. “I’m going to get some help,” she called out to the fog.
“Please. Hurry.”
The plaintive cry made her turn away from the house, torn between going for help and leaving the lost soul alone for a few moments.
As if led by her own feet, she walked back out into the fog. “Where are you?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew how stupid they were. If the lost person knew where she was, she wouldn’t be calling out for help. “Keep talking so I can find you.”
“Here. I am here. Hurry.”
Molly stepped out, following the sound of the voice. “Who are you?”
“Here.”
“I’m coming.”
This time when she turned back to shine her light at the porch, all she saw was exactly what had been in front of her—more fog. Her head spun as she struggled to keep her balance in a world that had lost its spatial references. Fog surrounded her, pushing in to consume her.
Heart pounding against her ribs, Molly swallowed a sob, unsure of where she was and which way to go. “Hello?” she called out, her voice wobbling. “Hello!” Her voice grew stronger, louder.
The voice she’d been following didn’t respond. The fog had swallowed her so completely she no longer knew which way to go to reach the house. She took one step, then another, shining her light at the ground, hoping to recognize a bush, grass, anything to bring her back home.
Tears pooled in her eyes, making it harder to see. “Hello?” The word caught on a sob. “Anyone?”
A pebble skittered across the ground.
Molly spun one direction, then another, unsure which direction the sound had come from. When she made a one-eighty, she ran face-first into a wall with arms that wrapped around her.
She fought, opening her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over her lips, and another trapped her arms against her sides.
Chapter 3
She fought like a little hellcat, kicking, twisting and scratching, landing a hard kick against his shin.
Nova grit his teeth and held on. “Shh. It’s me, Casanova.”
Immediately, her struggles ceased and her stiff body relaxed, melting against him.
Molly’s fingers curled into his shirt. Her lips pressed into the fabric, making him wish he wasn’t wearing a shirt so that he could feel those lips against his skin.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “For what? Scaring you half to death?” He leaned her back to arm’s length, her flashlight providing enough light that he could see the expression on her face, one of receding terror, tracks of tears glistening on her cheeks. “What are you doing out here?”
“I thought I heard a voice,” she said, her body beginning to tremble beneath his fingertips.
“I did, too.” He smoothed her hair back off one cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
“You did?” She looked up at him, her gaze hopeful.
“Yes.” He smiled. “I heard your voice calling out.”
Her shoulders slumped. “No, another voice. Someone calling out for help.”
“Maybe we should go back in and do a head count of your guests?”
“Yes, please. Just to be sure.”
“Come on.”
She shone the light around them, unable to see past two feet in front of the beam.
“This way,” he said confidently.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded and pointed at the ground. “Gravel and grass. We’re on the edge of the parking area. I was out at Creed’s rental car, trying to charge my cell phone, for what it’s worth.”
“You won’t get a signal.”
“I gathered that.” He hooked an arm around her waist and guided her slowly across the boundary of grass and gravel to the walkway that led to the front porch.
“Would it be undignified to hug the porch rails?” she said with a nervous laugh.
“If it makes you feel better, go ahead.”
She hesitated, then slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him. “No, really. I’m okay now.” But she didn’t move out of his embrace.
He was glad. Nova liked how she felt