Spirited Away. Angela Campbell
Noah watched the older man consider the young woman, his right hand not far from the weapon holstered at his side. “I don’t see what the harm is in checking things out. Do you, Mr. West?”
He shrugged and leaned against the wall. “Like I said, do what you need to.”
The officer’s gaze lifted toward the stairs. “I’ll start upstairs.”
“Help yourself.”
A grimace tightened Emma’s features as the officer walked past her. Her eyes pleaded an apology as she turned and followed the other man up the stairs.
Noah swore softly and ducked into the office, hiding the corkboard and moving his camera away from the window. He left the room’s door open and hurried to find them. He couldn’t remember if he’d left any documents or photos lying about upstairs.
The officer was thorough, opening closets, inspecting every room, even lowering the overhead attic door and climbing up to look around. When he came downstairs, he glanced into the office and went into the living room, and Noah hurried to distract them from the pile of documents on the table.
“As you can see, there’s no one here.” A cold sweat trickled down the back of his stiff neck. Emma stood beside the folder he’d left open on the end table last night, so he shifted to stand closer to her, to block the folder with his body. One of his business cards almost screamed “Noah West, Insurance Claims Investigator” in bold print on top of it. His investigation could be jeopardized if she – if anyone – saw it.
The officer grunted an agreement. “No signs of intrusion either. If anyone was in here last night, it’s not because they broke in.”
“I did see someone,” Emma insisted. “She had long dark hair, was wearing a white t-shirt and a jean jacket. She looked my age, maybe younger.”
Lanier frowned. “You know anyone like that, Mr. West?”
Noah shook his head, losing his balance under the movement. He sagged into the recliner behind him. A week ago, he’d dreamt about a woman matching that description exactly. He found it difficult to breathe as memories from the dream overwhelmed him. The dark-haired girl walking alongside the road, carrying a backpack. An old truck pulling up alongside her. A man’s voice muffled as he asked, “Need a ride?”
“Noah, are you okay?” Emma touched his forearm, calming a tide of dizziness and bringing him back to the present.
“Fine. Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping much.” He rolled his shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt to relieve the tension gathered there. “I appreciate you taking time out to come check my house, officer.” He stood and held out his hand.
The cop’s narrow-eyed gaze raked over him, dismissing the gesture. Noah sucked in his breath until the cop nodded. “Emma, can I have a word alone?”
“Sure.” She followed the officer onto the front porch, and Noah could only catch a few snippets here and there as he hurried to cover up the papers on the table. The officer murmured something about her being careful and that Noah seemed strung out of his mind. Her whispered reply was too soft to make out.
A few seconds later, the creak of the door opening again signaled her return. She slowly entered the room. “Hi.”
He clenched his jaw and met her gaze.
“The reason I came over was to warn you about that.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. Her words spilled out in a rush. “I’m really sorry. I tried to call him, but I couldn’t reach him again and I thought you were, well, never mind what I thought.” She took a deep breath. “Do you hate me?”
He forced a smile. “No, Emma, I don’t hate you. I’m glad you called him.”
“You are?”
He nodded and gave up on sliding the manila folder underneath some magazines. He wasn’t happy she’d called the cops on him, but he’d managed to avoid a messy scene and that was all that mattered. “Shows you’re more cautious than I first thought. Maybe I won’t have to keep an eye on you after all.”
“I don’t mind if you do.” Their gazes locked, and a slow simmer of lust stirred an arousal in his jeans. She looked away. “I guess I’d better be going.”
Stay. The thought caught him off guard. Asking her to stay would only lead to a complication he didn’t need right now.
Grabbing the base of his neck, Noah frowned. “Maybe you should.” She turned to leave, and he called out, “Emma?”
She lifted wide eyes to gaze at him. “What?”
“Just be careful. I meant what I said. If you need anything, give me a call.”
“Okay.” A few seconds later, the screen door banged shut behind her. Noah glanced around as unease settled in his gut.
Hell if he knew why.
Sweaty palm tightening around the strap of her messenger bag, Spider sucked in a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. When a minute passed, she knocked on the door before she lost her nerve. She had no idea what kind of reception she’d get, but she knew that she could do this. Three espressos, a pep talk in the mirror, and enough remorse bottled inside her chest to induce groveling were the perfect recipe for courage.
Then the door opened, and she wished she’d had something stronger than three espressos.
Noah stared back at her from beneath hooded eyes, and he was dressed… well, actually, he wasn’t dressed. That was the problem. Her gaze immediately fell to his naked chest and lower, to the towel draped below his glistening rock-hard abs, to the trail of hair that led down. Eyes up, girlfriend! Jerking her head up, she focused on his face. The hair on his head hung in wet curls around his perfectly chiseled features, and he had the clearest, most enticing green eyes she’d ever seen.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she squeaked. Tightening her grip on the shoulder strap again, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time. I can come back later.”
The little courage she’d mustered vanished at the sight of his half-naked body. She turned to make a run for it, but his strong grip on her arm prevented her from getting very far.
“Give me a minute to pull on some clothes.”
“I can come back later,” she said again.
“No need.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Do you want to wait here, or would you rather come inside?”
She steeled her spine and walked past him into the foyer, glancing around to keep from looking at his sculpted body. And it was fine, too. She half tripped on his hallway rug and tried to pretend that she’d meant to lean into the staircase rather than using it to catch herself.
“Make yourself at home,” he told her.
His heavy footsteps climbing the old staircase signaled it was safe to untangle herself from the railing, and she sank into the comfy-looking chair inside the doorway to the living room. Peeling, faded wallpaper decorated the walls, but the oatmeal-coloured carpet seemed new and most of the furniture, too. The floor above her head creaked with movement, conjuring images of her hottie neighbour stripping the towel away and—
Shaking herself, she reached for her bag and pulled out some of the pages she’d printed before coming over. She spread them on the coffee table in front of her and waited, wondering how best to start the conversation.
Hi Noah, I think your house is seriously haunted and you should probably move.
That would likely get her tossed out faster than reminding him