Ticket to Temptation Page 5

  “Hold out your hand.”

  Feeling a lot like the schoolgirl about to get the strap, I tentatively extended my palm. He brought his secreted hand out placing the very tablet he had described so well into the palm of my hand. I stared at it in shock as it was everything and more than what he said it was. The intricate detail took me aback. The moment it touched my hand, I could have sworn the beautifully carved woman turned to look at me.

  That’s impossible. You’re losing it here, Logan.

  I shut my eyes tight for a beat, then looked back at the Ticket to Temptation. The woman lay still. It was time to get out of there.

  “There’s no way I can accept this. It is much too beautiful to give away.”

  “Oh, but I insist. I mean…you must. Without the tablet, you could never find your way back to the house, and you’re welcome back at any time for as long as you wish.”

  I held the ticket out to him. “I don’t think I’ll be back, but thank you for the offer.”

  Raphael paused as if to catch himself.

  “Please take it, Logan. It would make an old man very happy to know that when you look at it, he would be remembered. And, who knows, maybe you’ll change your mind. It’s an open invitation, and you’re always welcome.”

  What does one say to that? Obviously, this man was more than a little eccentric and referring to himself in the third person was not exactly normal. But the look on his face made it obvious that to refuse would be quite hurtful.

  “I will treasure it, Raphael.”

  Relief flooded his face. As I looked out my rear view mirror, I caught a glimpse of him standing still, watching me drive down the lane. Then, the trees closed in behind me, making it seem like the road just continued to nowhere. When I got to the highway, I stopped waiting for a transport truck to roll by.

  Wait a minute—my personalized plate is on the back of the car. I had stopped facing the house, and there was no way Raphael could have seen it. I gave my head another shake. It was all just a little too weird for me to contemplate at this late hour. Another one of life’s little mysteries.

  Time to face up to the situation with Greg. I headed back to Judy’s. I had a lot to think about, and I needed her strength to get through what I knew I had to do. Reality bites sometimes…

  Chapter 6

  Daniel

  I woke up early, determined to shed some light on my real identity. Finding out I was a direct descendant of a Ms. Blackstone only piqued my curiosity. Following the hand-drawn map I received from the executor of Ms. Blackstone’s will, I took the Hillcrest Boulevard exit and drove toward the Watchung Mountains. I soon found myself beside a rather oddly worded sign at the entrance to a lush forest of trees.

  Following the sign’s instructions, I wound my way slowly down a narrow gravel-lined lane. Thank God for the map as another world swallowed me. Large graceful oak trees mingled with the stately elegance of lush poplars creating a canopy of overgrowth that made the brilliant sunshine seem like a distant memory. Large gray squirrels scampered up the trees, their screeches adding to the cacophony of whistles and calls made by birds rendered invisible by the dense foliage.

  I caught a glimpse of soft mauve under the edge of a fern leaf. Closer examination revealed a wild orchid of stunning beauty. And just like that, the image of Logan, a wreath of them intertwined in her long dark hair, sprang into mind. Desire bolted through my loins as I imagined her dancing through the trees in a come-hither game of hide and seek. She’s out of reach, buddy. I straightened and sighed, running my fingers through my hair, releasing the thought of her like an unwelcome insect.

  Calm settled over me like a mantle between me and my old world. I belong here. For just a split second, I imagined I heard the whispers of my ancestors calling me home. Right, get a grip, Daniel.

  I shook my head, took one more deep breath, and inched the car forward until I came to a clearing framing a large stone house. It was truly one of the most magnificent historical homes I’d seen in the area, and being a lover of unique architecture, I’d seen more than my fair share of interesting houses.

  As my car glided to a stop, I peered through the windshield at an old man, shoulders slightly rounded, sitting in a rocking chair on the massive porch surrounding the house. He raised a weathered hand in a gesture of welcome. I stood, feeling somewhat awkward, at the bottom of the three stairs leading up to the porch. The old geezer and I surveyed each other. In the usual way any lawyer surveys life, I tried to put him in a pigeonhole. Judging by the age spots on his hands, I guessed he was somewhere in his sixties or seventies.

  Impeccably dressed in razor creased navy blue pants and gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his natty attire belied the impression the rocking chair gave to his advancing age. Hair, the color of dried straw, did nothing to help me identify his age. And then I looked into those dark brown eyes, eyes that looked like they’d seen the impossible. Eyes that had seen the turn of more than one century. Impossible. Eyes that now examined me, a sardonic little smile playing around his mouth. He stood and stretched out his hand.

  “Welcome, my boy. I’ve been waiting for you. Come on up and have a seat.”

  “Excuse me if I sound blunt, but I’m only here to find the truth about my life. I think I would remember if we had ever met, and it’s highly unlikely you were waiting for me.”

  “You are correct. We have never met, but in truth, I’ve been waiting for you for some time now. I see you are as strong willed as your great-great-grandmother. You have her eyes. So much like Anais.”

  It seemed like the old man spoke more to himself than to me. His eyes were like magnets, drawing me to him. As confused as I was, he piqued my curiosity.

  “My name is Raphael, and I’m the caretaker of this estate. Welcome to Blackstone Manor.”

  “Thank you. I apologize for coming on a little too strong, but I’m having one of those days. Let me start again. I’m Daniel. It’s good to meet you, sir.”

  “Have a seat, Daniel. May I pour you a glass of lemonade? It’s turned out to be a splendid day.”

  “That would be great, thank you.” I took a seat in the chair opposite him and watched while he poured lemonade from a sweating pitcher into the two glasses sitting on the tray in front of him.” That’s odd. It’s almost like he was expecting me.

  “Are you expecting company?”

  “Oh, indeed I was, and here you are. Welcome home.”

  He turned those hypnotic brown eyes on me and the feeling of calm and wonder circulating through me deepened. Something was definitely very weird about this place.

  “I can see this is all very confusing for you. Maybe I can help shed some light on your situation if you have the time.”

  I took the offered lemonade and settled into the chair opposite him. It was already a strange day, and things couldn’t get much stranger. Welcome home?

  “Take all the time you need.”

  “Your great-great grandparents built this house. I knew you’d find your way here, and here you are.”

  “Wait a minute. How do you know they were my ancestors? You don’t even know who I am.”

  “Daniel, my lad, I’d know that face anywhere. You look so much like Anais, it brings a tear to my eye.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned that name. Who was Anais?”

  “Your great-great-grandmother.” Raphael looked at me like he was helping a small child understand the rudimentary basics of arithmetic.

  “None of this is making any sense to me. Help me out here, Raphael.” I began to wonder if this man was suffering from some mental health affliction.

  “I’m simply the messenger, Daniel. Making sense of it all is something only you can discover. Let me ask you a question: What brought you here today?”

  I did hate it when someone answered a question with a question. Maybe it was my trial experience kicking in—when I asked a witness a question, he was required to answer. I sighed.

  “I go
t a letter telling me I’d inherited this house, so naturally, I came to have a look at it.”

  “I believe the letter said you’d inherited this property, correct?”

  “Which would make this house part of the package. Let’s not split hairs.”

  “I have the feeling there’s a little more to it than that, Daniel, but no, I won’t split hairs. The history of this house and your great-great-grandmother is a long story. Here’s what I suggest. I need to go abroad to take care of some business for the next few weeks. I would much prefer to have someone here to tend the house while I’m gone. You’d be doing me a great personal favor if you came and watched over the place for me. That would certainly put my mind at ease.”

  “I don’t think so, sir, but thanks for the offer.”

  “I’d be eternally grateful if you’d reconsider, son. After all, this property is yours anyway, and that would give you the opportunity to explore Anais’s diaries. You must be curious about who you are, and they should answer all your questions. Time here would also give you the opportunity to reflect on which way you’ll turn on this crossroad you’ve found yourself on. What do you think?”

  I ran my fingers through my hair before drumming them on the arm of my chair. This was all just a little too strange. It was not like me at all to be impetuous. There again, considering recent events in my life, maybe it was time to step off the beaten path. If I were honest with myself, stepping off the beaten path was the reason I was here in the first place.

  “Oh, what the hell, sure. I need some time to think some things through anyway. When are you leaving?”

  “Oh, such good fortune. I can’t tell you how happy I am you accepted my offer. That certainly takes a strain off my mind. I’m leaving tomorrow, so why don’t you come along and let me give you a tour of the house. After you, my lad.”

  Raphael gave me an enigmatic smile as he held open one of the heavy oak doors.

  “That’s certainly a…um, interesting door knocker you have there?”

  “You like? Just one of the many ways Anais showed her sense of humor.”

  We stepped into a dimly lit hall. Sconces and what looked like original oil paintings lined the walls. I caught a glimpse of several nudes of a beautiful woman. He led the way down the hall past a wooden staircase polished to a golden shine. Each carved spindle represented a wooden phallus.

  What could have been a living room was humongous. Wood and stone sculptures, large and small, adorned every nook and cranny in the room. All depicted one or more people in the throes of sexual congress. Some simply displayed exaggerated anatomy teasing the imagination of the observer. We entered an old-fashioned kitchen that led to a study lined from floor to ceiling with bookcases.

  Every room had a fieldstone fireplace inviting you to languish in its warm embrace. Intricate tapestries embellished available wall space, each portraying what could only be described as an orgy of sexual fantasy. Interestingly, the setting embroidered into each one reflected the room where it was hung.

  “Well I must say, you have certainly aroused my curiosity. This Anais must have been quite the interesting woman.”

  “Indeed,” Raphael said.

  I would have liked to see more of the house, but that could wait until I returned. He walked with me to my car assuring me that when I returned, I would find what I was looking for. I didn’t know how to take that, so I said nothing.

  “Tell me, Daniel, if you don’t find the question too presumptuous, why have you never married?”

  “What makes you think I never married?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice the absence of a ring on your finger. Forgive me, I’m just an old man who lets his curiosity get the better of him.”

  The odd formality of his speech intrigued me. It was like he was a throwback from another era. Everything about him reminded me of the roaring thirties. I could almost see him as a young man, courting the ladies, cutting a rug with the Charleston. That was simply impossible. Regardless, he certainly had a knack for cutting to the chase and asking questions I’d ignored finding the answers to.

  “I guess the easy answer is that I’ve never met the right woman. The truth is, I’ve only met one woman who gave me considerable pause, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Raphael smiled. “I believe that what is meant to be has a way of finding all of us when we know the heart is what truly matters.”

  Chapter 7

  Logan

  “I’d roast his ass over a bed of sizzling hot coals after I attached his balls to booster cables and sent a few thousand jolts through them. I’m glad you’ve finally left that bastard.”

  And with that pronouncement, my gum-snapping, hip-swinging, plump ball of energy of a best friend wound down a long diatribe on what exactly she would do to Greg if she had anything to say about it. She always had plenty to say.

  When I arrived back on her doorstep, Judy in her usual Jewish mama fashion wrapped me in the blanket of her secure embrace, dragged me into her bright yellow kitchen, and deposited a plate of cookies and bottle of wine in front of me, talking nonstop the entire time. Black pigtails danced around her head as her three beloved Pugs scampered at her feet. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

  She was the first to take down anyone who dared to threaten a friend. Her ebullient descriptions had me laughing so hard tears ran down my face, and I clutched my aching sides. But that last thought of leaving Greg sobered me up. I dried my eyes, blew my nose, and took another sip while I gathered my thoughts. I kept my eyes fixed on the drink.

  “That might be easier said than done. I’m flat broke and have nowhere to turn right now.”

  “Bullshit. You know you have a room here as long as you need it. Cliff and—”

  The kitchen door slammed, and a deep bass voice boomed. “Babe, you here?” Barking loudly in greeting, the pugs scampered toward the door, short legs skidding across the yellow and white tiles.

  “And speak of the demon boy himself.” Judy stood on tiptoes, and kissed one of the most magnificent male specimens I’d ever laid eyes on. Two in one week. I’m on a roll.

  Judy grabbed his hand and dragged him to where I sat.

  “Cliff, meet my best friend, Logan. Logan, meet Cliff, my new man.”

  A large warm hand enveloped mine, and I look up into two startling denim-blue eyes and one of the most handsome black men I’d ever seen.

  “Hello, Logan. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s truly an honor to meet you.” Those warm, dulcet tones spread over me like warm chocolate sauce.

  “Hello. I haven’t heard a thing about you.” I cut my eyes to Judy, who pressed her palms to her cheeks, rolled her eyes, and winked. The woman knew no shame.

  Cliff took a seat at the table. Judy slid a cup of coffee in front of him, kissed the top of his shaved head, and plopped herself down in the chair beside him. His large hand swallowed hers as he cupped it. For a moment, no one else existed in their universe as they gazed at each other adoringly. As happy as I was for Judy, I couldn’t ignore the twinge of envy that shot through me. No man had ever looked at me like that. Then he focused the laser beam from those chilling blue eyes on me.

  “It would seem our Judy here has been a little remiss. What would you like to know?”

  “Well, I do know you met at that gun convention. Are you a private investigator, too?” I asked.

  “Good God, no,” Judy piped in. “He’s secret service.”

  I gaped. “You mean you protect the president and wear one of those black suits?” I couldn’t help the reverential tone that crept into my voice as it climbed an octave higher than usual.

  “No silly—”

  “I’ve got this one, babe,” Cliff said. “Protection detail in one of our primary missions. Investigating financial crimes like counterfeiting, computer fraud, and the like is the other. I’m an undercover investigator.”

  “And he’s the best there is, and he goes deep undercover, kind of like Serpico.” Judy pulled his
head in for a prolonged kiss.

  Cliff pulled away and cleared his throat. “Babe, we’ve got company.”

  “Logan’s not company, she’s family.” Judy looked at me and winked.

  I sat through another tender moment as they beamed rapture at each other. It was my turn to clear my throat.

  With an enormous sigh, Judy sat back. “You’re right, my lover. After all, poor Logan is suffering from a broken heart. We shouldn’t torture her.”

  Cliff’s hand swallowed the coffee cup as he downed the contents. Standing, he pulled Judy into his arms.

  “I came home to catch a few ZZZ’s. I switched with George, so I’m on the next three nights.”

  Judy wrinkled her nose. “That means you’re going to A—” She clapped her hands over her mouth.

  Cliff laughed. “You are the most dramatic woman I’ve ever met, bar none. Not to worry, you have my permission to confide in Logan. She looks like a woman who knows how to keep her mouth shut.” He drew Judy into a prolonged kiss that left her breathless.

  “Oh, my.” Judy leaned back, madly fanning herself as Cliff left the room.

  “Home? He came home? What’s with you two? Is he living here now?”

  Judy’s pretty round cheeks colored. Like me, she was blessed with the curse of the chronic blushitis.

  “Um…” She took a gulp of her wine, carefully avoiding my eyes. “Yes, I’ve meant to tell you about that. Sorry.”

  “How could you not have told me this?” I feigned hurt.

  “You have so much going on, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Are you crazy? Hurt me how?”

  “You know. You’re talking about leaving Greg, so gushing about my love life just seems in poor taste.”

  Oh, but necking in front of me isn’t. I shoved my bitchiness back where it belonged and locked the door. I’d kept it in that room for years and wasn’t about to let it out now.

  Judy lay her hand on top of mine. “Honey, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”