CHAPTER TWO

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"Helen!" she cried, rushing over to the the girl who was sprawled amidst leaves and dirt.

She offered a hand to help her up, but she only shot Lorna a look of disgust. Helen's blue eyes fixed on her friend angrily, "What the hell is your problem?"

She stood, brushing away the remnants of earth and leaves, "All I did was touch you, and that sent you into total meltdown? Get some therapy!" Lorna stood silently, watching her friend as she unlocked the Charger, jerking the door open furiously. Helen glared belligerently, " Get in. I'll take you home."

Helen had not spoken during the drive back to Sparrows Point. Now, Lorna stood on the curb, wanting to say something but not knowing how to explain herself. When she did finally try, Helen cut her off without so much as a glance in her direction, "I have to meet Mike at the lake," was all that she said, then she sped away, Godsmack blaring from the radio.

Lorna stood for a few moments until she could no longer hear the car or the music, then sighed heavily and walked into the modest house. She was tired, and she didn't want to deal with any of this now. She decided to give Helen a couple of days to cool off. Things would be back to normal by then, she hoped. She trudged up the stairs to her loft room and plopped down onto the old bed, sleep washing over her quickly.

Helen pulled onto the old back road which turned off at the Oak Mills sign, eager to see Mike. He would make her feel better in ways only he could. The memory of their last sexual marathon caused her body to grow warm, and she smiled to herself, pleased with her own sexual prowess. Let people call her a slut, she didn't care! A girl had to find some pleasure in this hell-hole wherever and whenever she could. There was nothing else to do in Oak Mills or Sparrows Point. The nearest club was in Madison, and that was simply too far. Most folks just went to the local dive, The Watering Hole. The name said it all.

Helen stopped alongside the lake, disappointed to see that Mike hadn't yet arrived. Impatient, and still angry over Lorna's simpering ways, she stepped out of the Charger and slammed the door. She walked toward the water's edge, scrunching her nose up as the smell of fish assailed her senses. God, how she hated this town! It wasn't even a town really, just a neighboring community to Sparrows Point. It was tiny, rural, and desperately lacking excitement. But soon, she would be done with college...then she would leave this little hole-of-a-town for good! She would become the next host of Wake Up, L.A. Yeah, she smiled to herself, You'll all be watching me on the news.

She strolled around the edge of the murky lake, anxious for Mike's attention, and miffed that he hadn't shown up yet. She pulled out her cell, checking the time. He was half an hour late! She tried his number, but got no answer. "Damn it!" she cursed aloud, "What does a girl have to do to get some excitement around here?!"

"Perhaps I can assist you with that."

Helen whirled around, startled by the male voice. A dark haired man stood about three feet away, an amused look playing at his handsome face.

His eyes were dark, his mouth full and sensual. His deep voice was laced with an exotic, sexy accent that she'd never heard before.

Helen's pulse quickened at the mere sight of him.

She gave him what she thought to be her sexiest smile,"Well...what have we here? Haven't seen you around before."

His smile was odd, kind of creepy...but damn, he was hot! This was no college kid, but a man. And dressed very expensively.

He moved toward Helen slowly, his walk reminding her of a lion on the prowl. He exuded a sexuality which seemed to mesmerize her. She stood fixed to the spot.

He began to laugh as he reached for her....

The following morning, Lorna woke fairly late, the previous night still fresh in her memory. She lay in bed longer than usual, going over everything in her head. Maybe she had over-reacted. Maybe what she'd heard was just the wind...it was an old house, after all. She decided she would call Helen later and apologize for acting so childish.

She showered and dressed, then headed into the kitchen for some coffee. Her mother was sitting at the table, cup in hand, staring blankly into space. "Morning, Mom." Lorna said brightly. Kate smiled weakly in reply.

She looked better lately, more color in her cheeks. But lines were forming on her pretty face from her emotional condition. She simply could not deal with losing the love of her life. Lorna wondered if either of them would ever truly recover. Losing the family home hadn't helped matters. Now all they had left was her father's construction company, and it was quickly going under. Lorna knew they would have to sell it, but didn't have the heart to tell Kate. It might push her over the edge.

Kate looked up as Lorna joined her at the small table, "Honey, where's your locket? You haven't lost it, have you?"

Lorna's heart sank as her hand went to her throat. Her mind raced through the events of the previous night. She'd had it before leaving Wellesley Manor. Oh no, she thought, I must of lost it near the stairs! She felt tears rushing to the surface at the thought of losing her only keepsake from her father. It was the embodiment of their connection...and her foolishness had caused its loss! She looked at her mother's face, etched with concern. Since Hal Jacob's death, Kate became emotional over the slightest things, and this was no small matter. She had worn the locket on her wedding day; it had been handed down for generations. It was valuable monetarily, but its sentimental value far out-weighed that.

"No mom! Of course I haven't lost it. I just forgot to put it on." She hated lying, but she didn't want to upset her mother.

Kate grew silent again, staring off into some unknown place. Lorna began to contemplate what she would now have to do. Returning to that house was abhorrent to her, but what else could she do? She had to get the locket back, and she had to hurry. Kids were always exploring the old place, and she would be lucky if it was still there. "Mom," she said as cheerfully as possible, "I have to go out for a while."

Kate nodded absently. Lorna took the car keys from the counter and headed for the door.

Lorna slowed the car as the sign reading Oak Mills came into view, and that creepy feeling washed over her again. She couldn't shake the notion that someone had called her name, had been watching her from the top of the stairs. Her stomach filled with butterflies as she pulled onto the dirt lane and stepped out of the car.

There had never been a driveway leading to the house. She would have to follow the same path she'd taken when she fled the house the night before. Normally, the crisp fall air would have invigorated her, and the sound of the dried leaves as her feet 'swushed' through them would have been pleasant. But, Lorna could not enjoy the autumn display...not when her destination sent chills inching up her spine.

She stopped when the house came into view, taking a deep, steadying breath as she neared the old porch. She looked around nervously, feeling as if eyes peered at her through the cracks of the boarded up windows and even from the overgrown landscape itself. She heard a twig snap somewhere behind her. The icy hand of fear clutched at her heart, constricting her chest until she felt she would be sick. Her heart raced so wildly, it felt as if it might explode.

"Can't you read?" A man's voice boomed at her from the yard. She turned quickly, ready to run, but breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the man. He was no ghost.

As soon as she saw him, Lorna knew he wasn't from around there. She would have known it even it weren't for his accent.

"Excuse me?" she said, with just a hint of sarcasm. The man was only a few feet from her, and he looked at her as if she were the lowest form of life he'd ever seen.

He gestured to the tree he was leaning against,

"The sign. Didn't you see it?" He moved over, bringing the No Trespassing notice into view.

"Everyone's seen it. What's your point?" She shrugged. Who was this guy anyway? He walked over to her as if he would scold her.

"My point is, I own this place, and I don't appreciate vandals."

Lorna's mouth dropped open, "Vandals? Look, Mr....whoever you are...I'm sorry. But I had no idea this house had been sold, and I have a very good reason for being here."

He raised an eyebrow mockingly, "Oh really? Well, by all means, let's hear it." He folded his arms across his chest. Lorna hesitated, "Well....I uh...lost something inside." This was just great; caught trespassing on private property. The sign had been there for as long as anyone could remember; no one paid attention to it. Who would've thought someone would actually buy the old place? She decided it might be best to drop the sarcasm. He looked as if he was ready to call sheriff Ames.

"Mr....I'm sorry, what did you say your name is?" she smiled, hoping to squelch his anger.

"I didn't." he said, unaffected. "Look Mr., I honestly didn't know the place had been sold. I don't usually make a habit of intruding on other people's property. But I did lose something here, something very special to me. I only came to get it back." His expression softened a bit, "Can you describe it to me?" "It's an antique locket; silver, on a silver chain."

Lorna watched as he reached into his jacket. He extracted the locket, holding it up for her to see," Like this?" he asked.

He dropped the precious heirloom into her out-stretched hand. He watched the emotions that played across her lovely features, realizing she'd meant no harm, then looked into her green eyes seriously. "You weren't here to spray paint obscenities all over my walls then?" Lorna laughed nervously, "No! Believe me, I'm not the type." He smiled slightly then, and the change it brought to his face was astounding. His dark eyes seemed to sparkle, and he reached out for her hand. "My name is Alex Cardaul, and I hope you'll excuse my rudeness. I'm not accustomed to the place yet, or to the people here."

Lorna took his hand, and something akin to electricity traveled up her arm, causing her cheeks to blush crimson, "Lorna Jacobs." she replied, smiling shyly. "Lorna," he said it wistfully, and it sent shivers up her back, causing the tiny hairs at the back of her neck to stand out. He was very handsome. His raven hair was pulled into a low pony tail, and his chiseled features were classic. The square jaw-line suited him, a perfect compliment to his full, sensual lips. She found herself taking in every feature, suddenly bewitched by his countenance. His gaze stirred something deep inside her...

She roused herself from the surprising 'inventory' going on in her mind when he spoke again.

"You don't look like the type who frequents haunted houses." Damn his face lit up when he smiled. "So, you've heard the stories?" she asked, surprise in her voice. "Yes." he answered, chuckling softly at the thought of locals believing such tales. His accent caressed her ears, deep and rhythmic, causing her breath to quicken.

"And you bought the place anyway? You couldn't pay me enough to live here!" she nodded towards the door. He was standing beside her now, apparently amused by her serious expression. The close proximity set her heart racing, a salacious heat settling somewhere at the core of her body.

"I like old houses, and Wellesley Manor's history intrigues me. I couldn't help myself." He spoke of it as if it were merely the latest in a large collection. "Well," laughed Lorna, "if you like cob webs, dust, and decay...I suppose this place is top notch." Her gaze drifted to a window on the second floor, and a chill crept over her. That feeling again of being watched. Between what his nearness did to her and the mounting fear of the place, she felt as if she were being pulled in two different directions. It was unsettling. "It's not so bad," he defended, "just needs a lot of cleaning up. You'd be surprised at what's underneath all that dust. A little paint here and there, and it'll be good as new."

"Here and there?" she laughed, "I hope you're a wealthy man, Mr. Cardaul," she added jokingly. Alex pretended to be insulted, "I can afford the necessary repairs, if that's what you mean." Then, he smiled, "Seriously, I plan to make it livable for now, then I'll move in and do the rest as I go along. I couldn't pass it up. You see, the house was a steal." Lorna returned his good humor, "Yes, and I expect you'll find out why once you've moved in."

"Then I'll find out tonight. I thought it might be fun to 'camp out' in my new home. Even brought a sleeping bag." He nodded to one end of the porch where his luggage sat. It stood out in sharp contrast to the decrepit old house, and Lorna was amazed she hadn't noticed it before. At the end of the porch, she also spotted a motorcycle. "You can't be serious," she said, "There's no electricity, no heat or water!" "That will all be remedied within a couple of days." he answered, following her gaze and wondering why she seemed so nervous, not to mention concerned.

She looked mortified. Why had she come here to begin with, he wondered. She had appeared frightened when he first spotted her, now that he thought about it. Surely she didn't believe those silly ghost stories? She seemed an intelligent young woman. He studied her face carefully. Not only intelligent, but lovely as well. Her eyes were a striking hue; dark green with little golden flecks. They appeared fearful now, but they held something else, too. She looked as though she couldn't catch her breath.

"Is anything the matter?" he asked. "No," she answered, "Why do you ask?" He nodded toward the front door, "Something is wrong....it's the house, isn't it? You're afraid of it."

Lorna attempted to sound amused, "The house? Don't be silly! It's just a house. What about it could possibly frighten me?" She could almost feel the eyes staring at her from behind him. It was still in there...somewhere. Watching her...watching him. She knew it, somehow she sensed it. She peered up at one of the windows with no boards and she could have sworn she saw a shadow pass by it. "I just think you'd be more comfortable at a motel, that's all." He moved toward her then, and her pulse raced as she caught the scent of him...very masculine, and very sexy. She took a step back involuntarily, feeling as though she was being pulled to him by some invisible force. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked, surprised by her action. Her behavior was odd, to say the least. Smiling one minute, backing away from him the next. He didn't move any closer to her, for she looked as if she might run any second. She hesitated, still transfixed by his nearness, "Of course not! I just...I have to go now."

She turned to walk away.

"Wait," he called to her, "I was going to invite you in." She glanced over her shoulder, "Another time." She said, then hurried down the path toward the car, the butterflies in her stomach wreaking havoc.

It wasn't just the house; it was him as well. Something about Alex Cardaul stirred her senses. She had never experienced such feelings before. She couldn't identify what they were, and it troubled her. Attraction, yes...she'd have to be blind not to be attracted to him, but there was something else. She'd felt as if he drew her to him, like a magnet would to steel. Besides, he was a stranger here, and for all she knew he could be a serial killer. Wellesley Manor was not the place to meet guys. She walked quickly until she reached the car, then slid into the driver's seat, feeling a bit relieved by the sensation of safety that washed over her once inside.

TO BE CONTINUED