New Chapter 2

This is the first part of the new Chapter 2 of Shadows of the Past.

Chapter 2

Tori closed the door in a daze. At dinner she’d been glad that they would be alone the next afternoon. Now she was a bit intimidated by the prospect. At dinner he’d been charming, witty, and interesting. Somewhere between the dining room and her door, though, he’d turned almost threatening. And that look in his eyes!

Another shudder coursed through her. Both his expression and his tone of voice had come across as sinister, although his words hadn’t been particularly ominous. She needed to warn him that she wouldn’t work for him if he didn’t stop making veiled suggestions like that.

Suddenly, fury replaced fear. Grabbing her cell phone from her purse, she looked up Cole’s phone number and almost pressed the CALL button. He probably wasn’t even off the elevator yet. She should wait a while before she warned him that she would break her contract if he cease that kind of talk.

But did she really want to? She loved the thought of turning the mansion into a home instead of a showplace. Besides, if she broke the contract, she would have to find another job within the next four months so she could pay her rent. That meant she had to see Cole again—and be alone with a man she wasn’t sure she could trust.

Tori put the phone on the night stand and lay back on the bed. Maybe a good night’s sleep would help her decide what to do.

***

Cole dropped into his recliner and stared out the picture window before him. He loved having a beach house. Being able to see the ocean always helped him think, which was exactly what he needed to do right now.

He had no idea why he was so concerned about Tori’s safety, but he was. Something deep in his gut had prompted him to say what he had at her door, and he’d seen by her expression that his irrational proclamation had frightened her. Irritated with himself, he slammed his fist on the table beside him so hard that he knocked the phone off the hook. Picking up the handset, he gazed at it thoughtfully.

A gentleman would call and apologize. He had no valid reason for warning her to be careful, and certainly no reason to announce that their lives were entangled. It was no wonder a look of fear had sprung to her eyes. That was also why he’d gotten away from her as fast as he could. He really should call her, and he would—right after he talked to his father.

After pushing eleven buttons on the portable phone, Cole wandered to the kitchen and got a can of Coke from his refrigerator. He popped the top then took a long drink before Richard Marshall answered.

“Hi, Dad,” Cole greeted cheerfully. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Richard answered. “How are you?”

“Just great! I wanted you to know that I made a decision about Coleman Estates. I’m going to have it restored to its original state so I can live there and make a go of the plantation. I thought Grandpa would like that.”

“You’re going to what?” Richard asked frantically. “I thought you were going to wait a year. It’s only been three months. I really don’t think this is a good idea. What made you change your mind?”

Cole stiffened when he heard the panic in his father’s voice. Why in the world would his father care so much about what he did with his inheritance? Was there something he should know about the mansion that he didn’t? Was that why he had such an unshakable feeling of doom concerning the project?

But all his questions could to go unanswered for now. He was more concerned about getting the information Tori wanted, so he continued as though he hadn’t noticed his father’s unwarranted reaction.

“I already signed a contract to have the mansion restored, Dad,” he explained calmly to avoid an argument, “hopefully, to its original floor plan. I know Grandpa did some remodeling when you and Mom got married. That was the apartment where Aunt Claire and Uncle Carl lived after Grandpa retired, right? But I can’t find any blueprints. You wouldn’t know where they are, would you? Tori needs them for the project.”

“Tori?”

“That’s the architect I hired. She’s only twenty-eight, but she’s very competent.”

“Is that what her references told you?”

Cole grimaced at the thought. Tori had sent him references, of course, but he hadn’t taken the time to contact them. If he had, he would have found out that she was a woman and not hired her. Then she wouldn’t be in danger.

He gasped at the thought. Where in the world had that notion come from? He had no reason to believe the job could be dangerous. In fact, the very idea was ludicrous.

On the other end of the phone, Richard questioned him nervously. “What is it, Coleman?”

“When are you going to stop calling me that?” Cole asked to avoid his thoughts. “You know how I hate it.”

“It’s your name, son. If we’d wanted to call you Cole like you prefer, we would have named you that. Now what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Do you know where the blueprints are?”

“Not if Vance didn’t have them in his things. Wait a sec. What about a safety deposit box? Surely, Vance had one. Did you check it out?”

“I flew all the way to Mesa,” Cole said, grimacing at the memory of his desperate search. “No blueprints.”

“Then I don’t know what else to suggest. Now about your decision. You’re making a big mistake. Just leave the mansion alone.”

“You can’t be serious!” Cole exclaimed. “Grandpa wanted me to do something with it. Besides, what else can I do with the two million dollars? There’s a stipulation that it only goes to one of three things.”

“I know that, but to restore the house? It’s going to cost at least that much, don’t you think?”

“Not necessarily. Most of the furniture is still there, remember?”

“Then you’re going to open the place to the public?” Richard asked.

Cole narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Richard sounded too concerned that he might do just such a thing, but he couldn’t understand why, especially since it was in his grandfather’s will.

“I haven’t decided for sure, Dad,” Cole admitted, carefully selecting his words. “I want Tori to look at it first. We haven’t come to an agreement on the exact cost, only her hourly wages, because she wanted to see the place in person. She didn’t want to rely on pictures for estimates.”

“Then it’s still possible that you won’t restore it?” Richard asked, this time in a voice filled with hope.

Cole considered his father’s words. Why was he so opposed to restoration? Richard hadn’t had any interest in the mansion for the past twenty-one years. Now he seemed intent to make sure that it wasn’t disturbed. Something was going on, and Cole instinctively knew he had to be very careful finding out what.

“It’s possible, Dad,” Cole admitted, “but it isn’t very likely. There’s only one way Tori won’t work on the project, and that’s if she breaks the contract.”

Richard’s merry chuckle rang in Cole’s ear. “It sounds to me like you’re more interested in the architect than the architecture.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Cole paused a moment. Hopefully, the anxiety in his soul wouldn’t transfer to his voice and alert his father to his unsubstantiated concerns. “I’d better go. I need to call Tori and let her know that we still don’t have blueprints. Bye.”

As Richard said good-bye, Cole hung up the phone. How had his father realized that he was interested in Tori? Their conversation certainly hadn’t indicated it. His father was right, though. He did have a physical attraction toward her.

As much as he’d dated over the years, he hadn’t truly gotten involved. He didn’t want any woman to get as close to his heart as his mother had been and be as devastated as he had been as a twenty-one years ago. Now that Tori had come into his life, though, he didn’t think he would mind taking a risk. Maybe it was because she didn’t seem to care about him; maybe conquering the unconquerable was all he wanted. Whatever the reason, he already found Tori intriguing.

Another good thing was her height. Since he was six-foot-four, they would dance well together. And he wouldn’t break his back kissing her! If she would agree to dating a client. Before he could even consider that, though, he needed to mend a fence.

Picking up his phone book, he looked up the Tides number and wrote it on the front cover. Then he dialed and asked the operator for room 842. Tori picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” she asked, her curiosity evident in her voice.

“Hi,” he replied cheerfully. “Do you miss me yet?”

***

Tori inhaled sharply. Since she didn’t recognize that voice, she knew exactly what kind of call this was. Only obscene, sick men abused the phone lines, and she never bothered being nice to them. “Look, buster, I don’t take calls like this.” And she slammed the handset onto the phone.

A few seconds later the phone rang again. She glared at it for three rings, determined not to answer it. But what if it wasn’t the same person? What if it was her mother instead?

This time when she picked up the man spoke before she had a chance. “It’s Cole, Tori.”

“Oh!” Tori blushed at the thought of her mistake. Now that he’d said his name, she recognized his voice. But she still didn’t want to talk to him, not after what he’d said just before he’d left her that night. She didn’t think she could be civil for longer than a few minutes.

“It was nice of you to call,” she said as casually as she could, “but I’m exhausted. Why don’t you call back tomorrow? Good night.”

Again she hung up on him loudly, only this time it hadn’t been intentional and she felt a tinge of guilt at having been so abrupt. Not enough guilt, though, to call him back and explain what had happened. She still didn’t think she could stay calm for very long.

As she stalked into the bathroom to get ready for bed, another thought crossed her mind. What if he came by to talk? He had called her twice within minutes, so he must be pretty desperate. Well, she just wouldn’t answer the door. She didn’t care how many people he woke up by banging on it.

***

Richard waited five minutes before he opened his desk and took a piece of paper from the bottom of the top drawer. For several moments, he stared at the four numbers. Three of them had been crossed out, but the last one was probably still good. It had been years since he’d talked to her, but she had to know what was happening. He had to warn her. Picking up the phone, he dialed the bottom number on the paper and waited impatiently until a woman answered.

“It’s Richard Marshall,” he said flatly. “I didn’t want to call, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“What is it?” the woman asked.

“It’s all over. You probably already know that Vance died, but do you know that Coleman inherited the plantation, plus two million dollars?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “That inheritance should be mine!”

“I’m not the one who got you into this fix,” he snapped. “You brought it on yourself. I only kept quiet to save your neck.”

“But you’re the one who caused it, Richard. That plantation would be mine right now if it hadn’t been for you and the ultimatum you gave me.”

“None of that matters anymore. I just called to tell you that Coleman’s going to restore the house to the original floor plan.”

“Well, stop him!” she shrieked. “He’ll listen to you.”

“Don’t you think that I already tried to stop him? For God’s sake, woman, get it through you head. He’s not listening this time. I’ve got to go. I just thought you should know. I’ll keep you posted on what’s happening out there.”

“You’d better, Richard. You’d sure as hell better.”

***

The dirt road was long and relatively straight. For the first couple hundred yards, it was like someone had cut through a forest. Around the only curve, huge live oak trees loomed forebodingly ahead her, their branches spread so wide that they made a canopy over the road. Spanish moss dripped from the branches, adding to the eeriness of the walk.

       It was dark—too dark for her liking. But she continued her trek toward the large plantation house ahead of her. A mysterious, masculine voice whispered evilly through the trees. “Our lives are entangled. You cannot turn back.”

       “Yes, I can!” she shouted to the voice. “And you can’t stop me!”

       When she tried to turn around, however, her long, purposeful strides continued in the direction of the mansion. The whispering man laughed menacingly. He must have known all along that she couldn’t leave, that she was destined to take this walk alone.

       Lengthening her strides, she increased her speed. The fear that engulfed her was almost more than she could bear. She had to get to the safety of the mansion. She tried to run. Nothing happened. Then the mansion seemed to move away from her.

       “No!” she cried out.

       Again the unseen man laughed ominously. “Our lives are entangled. You cannot turn back.”

       She tried running again. This time a shadow sped across her path. It was the man! He was running toward the shelter of the trees on the opposite side of the road. She had to follow him. She had to know what he wanted, what he meant by his words—why he was tormenting her!

       The man stopped beside the largest live oak and turned toward her. A light flashed, and she saw that he had no face. Yet he still laughed at her, taunting her maliciously with his gibes about her not being able to turn back.

       She tried to run away, but her feet were anchored to the ground. The faceless, bedeviling man moved again—toward her! Slowly, sinisterly, he inched his way closer. Her fear exploded into terror.

       Her scream pierced the night.

Tori jolted upright in bed, panting. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer. Her dark surroundings were unfamiliar, fear-invoking. Wherever she was, she had to get out of there.

Tossing back the covers, she scrambled out of bed and was halfway across the room before her memory returned. That’s right. She was in a room of the Folly Island Tides hotel. Now she could hear the surf over the sound of blood rushing through her head. Immediately, her heart began to slow; her breathing became less labored. After several minutes, she was back to normal.

More relaxed, Tori wandered to the balcony door, unlocked it, and went outside. At the railing, she inhaled deeply, drawing the muggy salt air as far into her lungs as possible. She exhaled and repeated the act. Then she stared out at the ocean.

Why had she gone to Boone Plantation that afternoon? The road to the house had given her nightmares—and so had Cole’s parting words to her that night. Why had he told her that their lives were entangled? His words had sounded ominous then, but now they just irritated her. If he’d kept his mouth shut, she wouldn’t have been so frightened, and then she wouldn’t have had a bad dream.

Slightly calmed, she returned to bed and tried to go back to sleep. But slumber eluded her for several hours.

A knock at the door startled Tori awake, and she glanced at the bedside clock—five to ten. She’d slept half the morning away. Tossing back the covers, she wrapped her robe around her as she hurried to the door.

“Who is it?” she asked as she looked through the peephole.

“Housekeeping,” a woman replied.

Although startled that the woman had knocked when she had a Do Not Disturb sign tucked into the key card lock, Tori opened the door. The uniformed woman standing outside smiled and picked up a crystal vase containing a dozen white roses that was on the floor beside her.

“Are those for me?” Tori asked in shock.

“Are you Ms. V. J. Young?” the maid replied.

“Yes.”

“Then they’re for you.”

Accepting the gift, Tori spoke excitedly. “Just a minute and I’ll give you a tip.”

“Thanks, but I already got one. Have a nice day, Ms. Young.”

“Thank you,” Tori said absently as she closed the door. Setting the flowers on the dresser, she took off the card taped to the vase and opened it. Please accept my peace offering. Listen to KCSC at ten. I have a message for you. Cole. After his name, he’d written the dial number of the radio station.

If she had any serious shortcomings, it was her uncontrollable curiosity, and Cole had just aroused that. Turning on the radio, Tori moved the dial until she found the right station. A moment later she heard a voice that sounded familiar.

“This is Cole Marshall of Charleston Talks. My guest this hour is local historian Frank Fielding. Before we talk to him, though, I have a message for a friend I couldn’t contact on the phone last night. I just want that friend to know that I’m sorry, and that the meeting time is one o’clock.

“Now, Mr. Fielding. If you don’t mind, I may have to ask you to repeat occasionally. My ear is still ringing from an accident I had last night.”

Shaking her head, Tori smiled and turned off the radio. Cole had had more than a message for her. He’d also wanted to tease her. Granted, she was still irritated about the nightmare, but she was also beginning to melt under his humor and kindness. He didn’t have to send roses—or make a public apology for a private incident. Despite what he’d said and the way he’d worded it, he was still a gentleman. And she would give him another chance.

Shortly before one, Tori hurried to answer the knock on her door. Outside, Cole had a large white balloon before his face. On it he’d written, I’m sorry. When he pulled it down, he was grinning like a little boy again. It was a wonder he didn’t have a white flag of truce, as well.

Unable to resist, she laughed, exclaiming, “You’re crazy!”

“I’d rather be crazy than have you mad at me,” he returned.

“How could I possibly be mad at somebody who sends me flowers and makes a public apology?” she asked, turning serious. “But you didn’t really have to pick on me on the air.”

“If you’d thought I was totally serious, you might have stayed mad at me.” He tossed the balloon up and tapped it over her head into the room. “I see you have your purse. Let’s get out of here.”

He escorted her to a red Nissan SUV and opened the passenger door for her. She ran her hand over the cool, tan leather seats as he rounded the vehicle and got in behind the wheel.

“Nice ride,” she said.

“Thanks. It’s a Nissan Rogue, one of those hybrids. I’m always conscious of fuel economy.”

Cole studied Tori overtly. Now she regretted wearing skin-tight blue jeans and a blue knit shirt that showed her figure, because the look in his eyes told her exactly what he was thinking.

After clearing his throat, he said, “I’m glad to see you’re wearing jeans.”

For a moment, his seductive tone annoyed her, but he didn’t say another word about her attire. Maybe his words hadn’t come out the way he’d planned, and as long as he kept their relationship businesslike, she kind of liked his interested glances. Determined to give him another chance, she responded as though she hadn’t noticed. “I thought the house might be dirty since it’s been empty so long.”

“You were right, too. I swear the dust is a foot thick.” He paused momentarily as he pulled out of the parking space. “I cleaned a little when you said you’d be living there, but just in the apartment.”

“That’s okay. I can do it when I move in the day after tomorrow. If you don’t mind me moving in then, that is.”

“Whenever you prefer. Did you bring a measuring tape.”

Tori patted her large handbag on the floor by her feet. “I have everything I need in here.”