Allegra Fairweather_ Paranormal Investigator - Janni Nell [55]
I could still feel the warmth of Casper’s breath pouring into my lungs. Flooding me with life.
I could still feel his hands rubbing my body until my heart thumped and the blood rushed through my veins. The memory of his strong hands brought heat to my cheeks. My breathing quickened. My nipples tingled. What? No, I mustn’t feel that way. It wasn’t allowed.
I rolled over and tried not to think of him. I tried not to think of his lips or his hands or his magnificent physique or his beautiful eyes. I tried not to think of them so hard that, when I finally fell asleep, my sub-conscious rebelled, rewarding me with a kaleidoscope of erotic dreams. I don’t know whether the dreams went on all night but it sure felt like they did.
When I woke in the morning I blushed at the thought of seeing Casper again. My feelings would be obvious. I was sure of it.
Chapter Fourteen
Luckily I didn’t see Casper that morning. I didn’t even have time to wonder where he was. I had other things to do and the first of them was to visit Jason at the boatshed.
He was stacking shelves when I arrived.
I marched right up to him. “I’m sorry about your boat.” I explained what had happened. I didn’t want to mention I’d been attacked by something so I made up a story about running aground.
He shook his head at my stupidity and muttered, “I shouldn’t have let you take the boat out at night.”
“I’ll pay for the damage,” I offered.
Immediately he smiled and mentioned a figure that wasn’t as exorbitant as I’d expected.
I wrote him a check and we parted friends. He even suggested I came to him next time I wanted to hire a boat. I didn’t think that would be any time soon but I thanked him anyway. Then I headed in the direction of Mrs. Ferguson’s cottage. I hadn’t gone far when I saw her coming toward me.
Today she wore a red hooded jacket and carried a basket over her arm, reminding me of a geriatric Red Riding Hood.
“I’m going to visit Dr. Williamson,” she said brightly. “He’s sick in bed and I thought I’d bring some wee goodies to cheer him up.”
Suppressing the image of Dr. Williamson as a wolf in Grandma’s clothing, I said politely, “It’s nothing serious, I hope.”
“Just a cold, but ye cannae be too careful at his age.” It was hard to believe she was talking about a man twenty years her junior. “Speaking of ill health,” she continued, “how are ye feeling after your wee adventure on the loch last night?”
“How did you—?”
She tapped her nose as though she knew something I didn’t. Then she relented and told me the truth. “Jason’s my grandson. He’s my daughter’s child, so he’s not a Ferguson. He told me ye’d hired a rowboat. But ye must be more careful, lassie, it’s not safe to go out on the loch at night.”
“Why not, Mrs. Ferguson? Is there something in the loch?”
She leaned toward me and confided, “I cannae speak from personal experience but from time to time rumors start.”
“About…?”
“Something being in the loch,” she said matter-of-factly.
“What kind of something? A Loch Ness type monster?”
“That’s what the rumors say, but I dinnae believe them.”
“Why not? You believe in brownies.”
“I have evidence the brownies exist.”
I didn’t tell her I had evidence there was something in the loch. I decided to keep that to myself for now.
Changing the subject, and knowing she wouldn’t think I was deranged for posing such a question, I asked, “Have you heard anything about a coven of witches in this area?”
“Ye mean other than that silly story about Lady Justina being a witch?” When I nodded, she said, “There’s a woman in Beag Glen who used to dabble in witchcraft when she was a teenager. She tried to put a wee spell on the loch but that was a few years ago. She’d be about thirty now.”
“What’s her name?”
“Scarlett Gordon.”
Flipping open my notebook, I wrote down Scarlett’s address.
Mrs. Ferguson adjusted her red hood and moved the basket from her left arm to her right. “This is