A Ghost of a Clue Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  A Ghost of a Clue

  by

  Debra Doggett

  Lobster Cove Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Ghost of a Clue

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Debra Doggett

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Faery Rose Edition, 2014

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-684-2

  Lobster Cove Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To those who walk outside the box.

  May your journeys be exciting.

  Chapter One

  “Aurora DuMont?”

  “Yes.” Rory smiled at the older woman as she wondered for the third time why in the world she had agreed to come tonight. She was so not a people person. The idea that this many folks would willingly gather together once a month to talk to each other about anything was beyond her ability to understand. Yet here she stood, still trying to decipher how her fast talking neighbor had gotten her to agree to this.

  KS Bennson was a crotchety old man who had clearly spent too much time in his own lighthouse. He had a need to talk like most people needed to eat. Cornered as she was taking a walk along the coastline, Rory had listened politely as KS gushed with excitement over the Lobster Cove Ghost Hunters Society. In the first fifteen minutes, she’d learned about all the ghost sightings in Lobster Cove for the last fifty years. She still couldn’t figure out how, but by the end of the conversation, she’d agreed to come and talk to the society about her own experiences with the paranormal, a detail of her life she had determined to keep quiet about while she was in Lobster Cove. The old man was sneaky, she’d give him that.

  “It is so nice to meet you.” The woman she suspected was Jane Harvitz, president of the society, beamed at her. KS’s description had been rather detailed. Rory suspected her neighbor had a slight crush on Jane.

  “Thank you, Ms. Harvitz. I appreciate the chance to get to know some folks in Lobster Cove.”

  “Please call me Jane. Lorena was a wonderful woman, very spirited and outspoken. You take after her a bit around the face.”

  Rory thought back to her father’s description of her great-aunt Lorena DuMont. It had been much less flattering and far more blunt. According to him, Rory not only took after Aunt Lorena in looks, but in personality as well. Outspoken was not high on her father’s list of acceptable attributes for women, and Aunt Lorena was not high on his list of family favorites. If her letters were any indication, the feeling was mutual. Had her father known about the part of Rory’s heritage that Aunt Lorena had taught her to use, there would have been open war between the two of them.

  “Thank you.” Rory smiled at her. “She was very kind to me. I miss her so much. It’s been a bit of a transition moving clear across the country.”

  “That cottage was her passion. From the day she moved in, she made it one of the most beautiful spots in town. We all feared it would be left to rot after she passed, what with her having no husband or children of her own. Now it will be lived in and loved by you.”

  The old cottage had been a fixture in Lobster Cove since the 1920s, when it was built by the captain of a whaler who had decided he’d had enough of living on the sea. He’d been an old man by then and never had a family so the cottage was small but cozy. The story went that he’d built the place by the shore because he couldn’t sleep without the sound of the waves crashing. In spite of its location, the story also alleged he never walked the shore, preferring instead to sit in front of the cottage and watch the people of the town. The old man was tougher than even he’d thought for he lived in the tiny cottage for nearly twenty years. After his death it had stood empty for almost a decade before her aunt had purchased it, renovating it in a style that likely had the old captain spinning in his grave.

  “I have to admit I was surprised she passed Maison de la Mer to me.” Rory laughed. “With such a fancy name, I don’t know if I can live up to it.”

  “Ah, Lorena believed everything should have a name. Or a title, as she called it. And that’s what the place was to her, her Home by the Sea. Leave it to her to fancy it up a bit, just like she did with that old place. We’re all excited to get you settled in and a part of Lobster Cove.”

  Rory didn’t want to disappoint her hostess with the news that her stay in Lobster Cove was meant to be temporary, so she just smiled. The cottage had been a godsend. Right before the letter came from Aunt Lorena’s attorney; her whole life seemed to have taken a tumble. Her job at the Colorado Historical Society fell victim to budget cuts, and her relationship with Jerrod fell victim to a scheming ex-girlfriend. She’d needed a place to recoup, and spending a few months in Lobster Cove sounded like just the thing to get her life back on track.

  “We’re also so glad you’re here tonight to defend the truth for us.”

  “Defend the truth?” Warning bells went off in Rory’s head. “I’m afraid—”

  “We’re all so pleased to have someone articulate and knowledgeable on our side of this debate. Richard and I worried over how we were going to approach this ever since the whole business came up at the last city council meeting.”

  “Debate?”

  “Not that Mr. Reed is a horrible person or anything. He certainly isn’t. I mean, he’s not going to insult you or be rude. It’s just that he’s such a skeptic when it comes to the supernatural. And after the last little incident, he just doesn’t want to let it go. I understand it’s his job, but he could be a bit more open-minded about things. Who knew scientists were so hard-headed?”

  “Mr. Reed?”

  Rory was beginning to feel a bit like a parrot. Or a lamb being led to the slaughter. She would’ve backed up to the door but the woman had her arm in an iron grip and was already moving her toward the living room. What in the world had polite conversation gotten her into now, she wondered. Before she could spy out another exit, her gaze landed on the room full of people, all of them looking at her with what could only be described as expectation. Of what she wasn’t certain but her intuition was already shouting that she wouldn’t like it.

  Jane maneuvered her to the podium set up in front of the fireplace, never taking her firm grip off Rory’s arm. She had caught her prey, and she wasn’t letting go, Rory thought with a sense of resignat
ion. Maybe the snacks would be worth it. As they neared the man standing by the podium, Rory felt a ray of hope that maybe something beyond the snacks would be worth her visit tonight. Her inner voice reminded her she had sworn off relationships, but she told it to shut up. Besides, she reassured it, casual sex didn’t involve a relationship. So long as she kept things casual, she would be safe, and she would have fun. Fun and relaxation were what she had come to Lobster Cove for after all. And the man standing in front of her looked like loads of fun. Before her vivid imagination could elaborate any more on her fantasy, her hostess introduced her.

  “Aurora DuMont, this is Travis Reed.”

  A bit disappointed at having her fantasy exploded so soon, Rory found herself tilting her head. It was rare for her to find someone tall enough to make her do that. So this was the man who wasn’t going to insult her, Rory thought, as she took in her unexpected adversary. Travis Reed wasn’t only tall, he looked Viking big. If his red hair had been longer and his clothing a bit more barbaric, he could pass as a Norseman. Still the broad shoulders underneath the dark suit impressed the hell out of her, and the way the suit fit him looked yummy. As a matter of fact, all of him looked yummy especially the wild blue eyes that stared at her with a bit of amusement in them. Rory wanted to sigh as her inner voice screeched out a warning. She had come here to find some balance, not to sign up for yet another inappropriate relationship. And a hardheaded scientist sounded like a tough sell for a woman who saw ghosts. Still, he had a killer smile that lit up more than the room as he reached out a hand to her.

  “Hello, Ms. DuMont. Nice to finally meet the talk of the town.”

  His voice rumbled out of the suit in a friendly baritone. Rory frowned, but she didn’t hear any insult behind the casual words. Lobster Cove seemed quaint and cozy, but all small towns came with gossip. That much she knew from experience. Gossip wasn’t on her agenda, especially when it concerned her. She froze her most polite smile on her face and decided to forego her lustful fantasies and nip the conversation in the bud.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Reed, but you have me at a loss. You seem to know quite a bit about me, but other than your name, I know nothing of you. And I only learned your name a few minutes before I found out we were having this little debate tonight, which I’m a bit confused about.”

  “Feeling like a Christian being thrown to the lions, huh?” He ignored her snarky tone and grinned at her with unrepentant glee. From the look on his face, he was having the time of his life. That made it hard to keep the smile from her own face.

  “Except I guess you’d be the one they burn at the stake instead.” He looked her up and down, and Rory found she was glad she’d dressed up tonight. “Though I must say you don’t live up to the image of the stereotypical witch.”

  “Excuse me?” Her self-confidence backpedaling, Rory frowned up at him.

  “You know, all the pictures. Long riotous red curls, wild, sexy clothes, all that.”

  Rory couldn’t believe she had left home tonight for this. KS was going to have some explaining to do the next time they talked. Instead of sharing a few stories, she’d been set-up to debate someone who looked like her fantasy dream date, and now, said fantasy was insulting her before they’d exchanged more than a few words. She smoothed a hand down her straight brown locks, remembering how pleased she’d been with the short do knowing it would be so much easier to fix. And her conservative blue dress had been a concession to her assumption about the age of the group members. So much for trying to blend in.

  “Um, I mean, not that you don’t look lovely.”

  Travis Reed must have noticed the look on her face and realized the impact of his words. The glee disappeared from his face, and now he looked like a man who’d swallowed his tongue. Rory stifled a laugh.

  “I mean, your dress is really pretty, you look great, just not…”

  “Sexy?”

  “Uh…I don’t know that I’d go that far.”

  “You’ve already gone pretty far, Mr. Reed, so why stop now? You know though—” Rory tapped a finger on her chin “—if we’re going for stereotypes, I’m thinking you should be the witch instead of me.”

  “What?”

  The confusion on his face was laughable. If not compliments, Rory thought, I’ll settle for a bit of fun. It wasn’t casual sex but it was better than nothing.

  “Well, you fit the stereotype and you’re right, I don’t.”

  “I…what…?”

  Rory found herself wishing she’d renewed her first aid card. He looked like he was going to choke on that tongue he’d swallowed. But she couldn’t resist twisting the knife a bit more.

  “I’m betting there would be some riotous curls if you let that red hair of yours grow out.”

  “Which is exactly why I never will,” he mumbled. Then his face brightened. “Hey, wait a minute, does that mean you think I’m sexy, too?”

  Rory stifled a groan. Of course he’d catch on to that. She should’ve been more cautious. It had been too long since she’d bantered with a man who had a brain in his head. Time to move on, she thought.

  “I think we should save the sparring for the debate. Shame about the hair, though. Now maybe we should call it a draw and go find the snack table and take some time to regroup. Both of us need to be prepared since I believe we’re the entertainment for tonight. I can work on my image, and you can untangle your tongue. Then we can have a go at each other again, Mr. Reed.”

  “Let me apologize first. And call me Travis, please. I’m not in class.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “In class? Are you a student?”

  “Nope.” He grinned. “I’m the teacher. A science teacher to be exact. I teach biology, botany, and general science at Lobster Cove Middle School.”

  “Middle school? And you talk about me going into the lion’s den?”

  Travis laughed. “At least you would be the captive victim. It shows you’re the smarter one. I walked in willingly. Some days I even walk back out in one piece.”

  “But not of sound mind?”

  “Not at all. Perfect evidence of that is the fact that I walk back in there the next day.”

  “Sad to see a good mind go to waste.”

  “So you think I have a good mind to start with? And will that hold true after I debunk your ghost hunting?’

  “You so sure you can do that?”

  “I’m a middle school science teacher. I’m used to arguing with emotion.”

  “Oh, so my argument will be all emotion, and yours will be all logic and reason, huh?”

  “Uh, I think I’d like to go back to flirting with you and, like you said, save the arguing for the debate.”

  “That was your idea of flirting?”

  “I spend eight hours a day with preteens, so yeah that was my juvenile attempt at flirting with you.”

  “I’m feeling better about the debate then. Your communication skills pretty much suck.”

  “Glad I could help give you a sense of overconfidence. That was my strategy all along.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He offered her his arm. “Why don’t we check out those snacks like you said? Jane’s spread is the finest kind, so maybe I can help you fill your plate and thereby send you into a food coma. I like to take every tactic I can to ensure my success.”

  Rory laid her hand on his sleeve and tried to ignore the tingle of energy that touching him gave her. No entanglements, she sternly reminded herself. “Is there wine at the table?”

  “Nope. I already checked, right after Jane told me about the debate.”

  “So you didn’t know about it till you got here either?”

  “No. I figured I was invited so they could spend the meeting roasting me at the stake for getting the city council to calm down over the ghost sightings in the old city hall. It took a full half hour speech to convince them they didn’t need to use city funds to cordon off the county clerk’s office until they could get the whole area ritually cleansed with some speci
al ceremony. That’s why I was glad to hear of your, um, beliefs. I figured they might roast you first, and I could run away while they were distracted.”

  “There are ghosts in city hall?” She almost laughed at the look of frustration that came over his face.

  “No. That was my point.”

  “And that’s what we’re going to debate?”

  “God, I hope not. I’m kind of tired of talking about it. I think we’re going to be more general.”

  “More general?”

  “You know, do ghosts exist? That kind of stuff.”

  “Piece of cake.”

  “You think so, huh? Well, I have to warn you I come prepared.”

  “So much the better. Though I have to confess I am surprised you came at all with an attitude like yours. I would think at a meeting of a ghost-hunting society you’d be sort of outnumbered. You never know. This might be a tougher crowd than your classroom.”

  “Actually, being here is probably easier than my classroom. They’re a whole lot nicer to me.”

  “Really?”

  “Maybe I should say they’re more polite and better at hiding what they think. At least they listen to me. They aren’t trying to text on their phones while I’m talking.”

  “Kids actually use their phones during your class?”

  “I have a few who can hardly put the damn things down without having them surgically removed. And, a few who think they invented smooth moves never before known to man so they can fool a poor dumb teacher.”

  “Smooth moves?”

  “They harbor the crazy belief that a teacher can’t tell that a kid who’s spent the last ten minutes looking at his crotch and smiling is texting.”

  “Sounds like you’re used to staying on your toes. I don’t know though.” Rory glanced around the room as she filled one of the small plates with fruit. “I’m betting you won’t be competing with cell phones here. And you can’t yell at them if you are. No grades to threaten them with either. You have to be polite and hide what you’re thinking, too. This might be tougher than you’re prepared for. You’ll have to keep it interesting or you’ll lose them.”