orphanages, hospitals, and triumphed over cyclonic fires and vast famine.
We are a hardy Order, Frank; more than
equipped to deal with a restless spirit. Besides, with God, all—"
"—things are possible."
She squared her narrow shoulders and issued
a firm nod.
Damn, the wisp of a woman
had grit. "I'll attempt to make contact with our ghost when we return to the hotel. If I'm successful in
convincing Doucet to meet us here, I'll be
in touch."
"Good, it's settled then.
Rand has my phone number." She looked in the direction of the entrance. "My driver will be happy to drop
you at the Provincial."
Frank shook his head.
"Thanks, Sister, but we'll hoof it back; need some fresh air."
With a final smile at Rand,
Sister Francoise marched off with a wave to her driver, an indication she'd finished her task at the
cemetery.
Frank heard the engine come
to life and looked at Rand. "Who do you suppose chauffeurs her around?"
"She said she never learned
to drive. By the time she wanted to, figured she was too old. I think she introduced him as the
maintenance man for the building."
"Our Sister Francoise is
quite the interesting character," Frank said watching the vehicle until it pulled from the curb. "Let's
go. Sounds like I have some work to do."
Chapter Six
"I'm not leaving!" With his
arms in the air, his face flushed, Rand faced off with Frank in the
room. "I seem to remember another time we had this conversation!"
"That was different. At the
time we were dealing with a real-life criminal, not a powerful specter from another
world."
"Yeah, a killer with a .357 Magnum!"
"Rand, I knew my
capabilities then. Billy had entered my world and leveled the playing field, but here, I'm out of
my element. After what happened last
night, Valmont would like nothing better than to use you to
his advantage."
Rand kicked the leg of the
upended desk at his feet. "My answer is the same now; you send me away, I might not—"
"Goddamn it, do what you
have to do." When a look of incredulity crossed his features, Frank wanted to retract the words.
Softer now, he added, "I'm not shutting
you out. It's for your own good."
"You know what your problem
is? You think you're an island. It's Frank McGuire against the whole fucking world."
"As long as I've been
drawing breath it has been." He didn't have time for this bullshit with Rand right now. If he
didn't understand Frank's motivation to
protect him, he must be denser than moss. "If you can't live
with that, do something about it, but quit
threatening me."
Rand set his jaw, his
nostrils flaring. "Where's my ticket back to Baltimore?"
"In my travel bag," Frank
said his voice weary. "This isn't the way to handle this, you
know." Without responding, Rand dug through the leather bag, opened the tickets and shoved one into the
pocket of his shirt. "One night, that's
all I ask. Go out on the town, see New Orleans and have a great
time."
Rand opened the dresser
drawer, and using both hands, shoved his clothing into his shoulder bag. Reaching the door of the
room, he turned to Frank. "If I wanted to
see New Orleans alone, I would have booked my own ticket."
Frank's gut clenched. He
wanted to ask him to stay, but couldn't. When the door slammed in his face, Frank had an unmistakable urge
to yank it open and call him back.
Instead, he righted the wingback and fell into it with the numb realization he'd saved Rand and lost him in
the span of ten minutes.
* * * * *
Frank doused the light in
the room, locked the door and forced his tense body to relax. Willing his body into a meditative state, he
attributed his slow connection to the
screen to a number of factors—his fight with Rand, overriding doubt of success and bone-chilling
fear.
After several attempts, the
monitor floated behind his closed eyes. As in all prior instances, he didn't try to decipher the patterns,
but rather allowed his mind to drift,
keeping the maze of colorful patterns at the forefront. Rewarded long moments
We are a hardy Order, Frank; more than
equipped to deal with a restless spirit. Besides, with God, all—"
"—things are possible."
She squared her narrow shoulders and issued
a firm nod.
Damn, the wisp of a woman
had grit. "I'll attempt to make contact with our ghost when we return to the hotel. If I'm successful in
convincing Doucet to meet us here, I'll be
in touch."
"Good, it's settled then.
Rand has my phone number." She looked in the direction of the entrance. "My driver will be happy to drop
you at the Provincial."
Frank shook his head.
"Thanks, Sister, but we'll hoof it back; need some fresh air."
With a final smile at Rand,
Sister Francoise marched off with a wave to her driver, an indication she'd finished her task at the
cemetery.
Frank heard the engine come
to life and looked at Rand. "Who do you suppose chauffeurs her around?"
"She said she never learned
to drive. By the time she wanted to, figured she was too old. I think she introduced him as the
maintenance man for the building."
"Our Sister Francoise is
quite the interesting character," Frank said watching the vehicle until it pulled from the curb. "Let's
go. Sounds like I have some work to do."
Chapter Six
"I'm not leaving!" With his
arms in the air, his face flushed, Rand faced off with Frank in the
room. "I seem to remember another time we had this conversation!"
"That was different. At the
time we were dealing with a real-life criminal, not a powerful specter from another
world."
"Yeah, a killer with a .357 Magnum!"
"Rand, I knew my
capabilities then. Billy had entered my world and leveled the playing field, but here, I'm out of
my element. After what happened last
night, Valmont would like nothing better than to use you to
his advantage."
Rand kicked the leg of the
upended desk at his feet. "My answer is the same now; you send me away, I might not—"
"Goddamn it, do what you
have to do." When a look of incredulity crossed his features, Frank wanted to retract the words.
Softer now, he added, "I'm not shutting
you out. It's for your own good."
"You know what your problem
is? You think you're an island. It's Frank McGuire against the whole fucking world."
"As long as I've been
drawing breath it has been." He didn't have time for this bullshit with Rand right now. If he
didn't understand Frank's motivation to
protect him, he must be denser than moss. "If you can't live
with that, do something about it, but quit
threatening me."
Rand set his jaw, his
nostrils flaring. "Where's my ticket back to Baltimore?"
"In my travel bag," Frank
said his voice weary. "This isn't the way to handle this, you
know." Without responding, Rand dug through the leather bag, opened the tickets and shoved one into the
pocket of his shirt. "One night, that's
all I ask. Go out on the town, see New Orleans and have a great
time."
Rand opened the dresser
drawer, and using both hands, shoved his clothing into his shoulder bag. Reaching the door of the
room, he turned to Frank. "If I wanted to
see New Orleans alone, I would have booked my own ticket."
Frank's gut clenched. He
wanted to ask him to stay, but couldn't. When the door slammed in his face, Frank had an unmistakable urge
to yank it open and call him back.
Instead, he righted the wingback and fell into it with the numb realization he'd saved Rand and lost him in
the span of ten minutes.
* * * * *
Frank doused the light in
the room, locked the door and forced his tense body to relax. Willing his body into a meditative state, he
attributed his slow connection to the
screen to a number of factors—his fight with Rand, overriding doubt of success and bone-chilling
fear.
After several attempts, the
monitor floated behind his closed eyes. As in all prior instances, he didn't try to decipher the patterns,
but rather allowed his mind to drift,
keeping the maze of colorful patterns at the forefront. Rewarded long moments
Similar Books
