On The Edge Read online

  The clock chimed four a.m. Jake stretched on the sofa. He hated clocks that sounded on the hour. Most people slept through the noise, but he never could. Just as the fourth knell sounded, he closed his eyes in search of more sleep.

  Blaring sirens pealed through the house, followed by the roar of racing engines. Jake sprang from the sofa, fully awake, and ran for the stairs. The wails and revving sounds became almost unbearable as he reached the second floor. He covered his ears. Which room are they coming from? And how could they be so blasted loud?

  He threw open the door to the first bedroom but, before he could go in, Joss appeared in the hall. Her hands covered her ears, tears streaked her face. “Make it stop!” she screamed.

  Torn between tracking the sounds and comforting her, his heart got the better of him. He reached for her, pulled her into his arms. “Shhhh. It'll be okay.” He nestled her face into his chest, so one of her ears was pressed against him. He covered the other with his hand. Bending to press his lips to the top of her head, he continued soothing her, hoping his voice was loud enough to be heard above the din. “Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm here, I've got you.”

  Joss clung to him, her tiny body shaking. He wrapped his other arm tightly around her, and rocked back and forth. “It'll stop soon.” When he realized he didn't know how long the noises had lasted in the past, he added, “I hope.”

  He heard her snicker, and thought it was a good sign. Maybe more humor was called for. “Ever wanted to be the flag waver at the Daytona 500?”

  “No!” she yelled, as the house fell silent. “Oh! Sorry.”

  Jake grinned, and turned her loose. “No problem. I won't be able to hear for awhile, anyway. Stay here. I need to look around.”

  “Don't leave me!”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “I'll be right back. Hang tight.” Jogging down the stairs, he checked all the doors, windows, even went into the cellar, but all was normal. Back upstairs, he went into each room searching for something—anything—unusual.

  Joss was sitting on the edge of her bed when he returned. “Anything?”

  “No, damn it,” he muttered. “I need to keep looking around while the noise is blasting. Maybe next time I can track its source.”

  She looked up at him. “Next time?”

  “Of course.”

  Standing, she continued to look into his eyes. “That'll be tomorrow. It never happens twice in one night.”

  He nodded. “Tomorrow night, then. I promised to help you out, and I meant it.”

  “You're a good cop. But maybe what I need is a ghost buster.”

  “I don't think so, Joss.” He took a step toward her. “I told you, I don't believe in ghosts. There's something fishy going on here. I'm pretty sure what you need is a cop.”

  She touched the lapel of his button-down shirt. “I could use a friend, I know that much.”

  He gazed at the beauty before him. She wore nothing but a short, soft cotton nightgown, which was tantalizingly sheer. “Joss,” he began, then hesitated. This was a bad idea. “I, uh, need to go downstairs.”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “I wish you'd stay. I really don't want to be alone.”

  He nodded to a chair in the corner. “I'll sit over there until you fall asleep, if that'll help.”

  “Jake,” she murmured. Her eyes were half-closed, unfocused, and she appeared groggy. “Kiss me.”

  He moved her toward the bed. “I'm sure I'd enjoy that. But it's not going to happen when you're only half awake, and I'm on duty. Get some sleep, we'll talk in the morning.”

  “But—”

  “Sleep.” He cut the protest off, settled her in bed, and drew the covers up over her. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

  She sighed, snuggled in, and seemed to fall asleep instantly. He stood by the door watching her for a few minutes, then returned to the main floor. It was doubtful he'd get any more sleep, but he had to try. He'd need all his energy and his wits about him to figure this craziness out. But he'd figure it out. I have to.

  * * * *

  Jake stared at the living room ceiling. The grandfather clock, which didn't seem so noisy anymore, chimed nine a.m. He knew he should get up, but wasn't quite ready. He did some of his best thinking in the morning hours, when things were fresh.

  Joss hadn't imagined the noise. It was as real as he was. There had to be a logical explanation for where it came from. Why was a different matter, and probably not so easily explained.

  He'd work on one thing at a time. First, the where. They might have to tear the house apart to find the source. He'd start on that first thing. No, second thing, after a shower. He needed a morning shower to clear his head. And breakfast. He was hungry—could definitely eat. Tearing the house apart would be the third thing on his list of things to do, after a shower and breakfast. Jake smiled to himself, wondering if everyone divided their life into neat little lists like he did, or if he was a total nut. A game plan in mind, he tossed his legs over the side of the sofa and sat up.

  Glancing around the room, he had a sudden thought. If I am a nut, I fit right into this house. The head of a buck stared at him from above the fireplace. A stuffed bobcat stood on the bricks next to the hearth. Several other animals were placed strategically around the room. He wasn't sure if they'd all been alive at some point, or if they were imitations, but he was sure they were flat out creepy. He liked animals as much as the next guy, but this was ridiculous.

  Making his way to the shower, Jake let the water run a minute before he stripped, and stepped in. He held his face under the nozzle while water flooded over him. It was hot and steamy, which did nothing to help his morning erection, intensified by thoughts of Joss.

  It felt good, but not quite right. He wanted more than her being his pin-up girl. He suspected she wanted more from him, as well. If he could solve her case, he knew he wanted to explore further possibilities with Joss. For now, he needed to focus. He turned the nozzle to cold, and quickly finished his shower.

  Jake dressed in a fresh set of jeans and a t-shirt, with a button down shirt over the top. He towel-dried his unruly hair, straightened the bathroom when he was done, and shoved everything back into his bag. When he stepped out, Joss was at the foot of the stairs.

  “Good morning.” She looked perky and bright, in a red blouse over jeans.

  “Good morning. You look refreshed. How'd you sleep?”

  “After the races ended, I slept pretty well. I had some weird dreams, though. One of them involved my putting the moves on you, and I know that would never have happened in real life.” She grinned at him.

  He laughed. “A proper Southern woman such as yourself? No way. It was all a dream.”

  She stood next to him, and nudged his elbow with hers. “I'm really sorry about that. Those noises make me crazy—I go a little nuts. Sometimes I don't feel like myself at all.”

  “So you're saying a woman would have to be crazy to put the moves on me?”

  “No!” she replied quickly, then glanced up and realized he was teasing. “You smart ass!”

  “Better than being a dumb ass, I always say.” He followed her into the kitchen.

  She opened the refrigerator, and peered inside. “I have eggs and some cheese. I could make an omelet for breakfast.”

  “That sounds great. I was going to say I could eat a horse, but there might be a stuffed one around here somewhere.”

  “No kidding. Isn't it bizarre?” She got food, along with the pitcher of tea, from the fridge. “If I was going to live here, I'd have to get rid of the menagerie right away.” Reaching for a glass in the cabinet, she poured some tea and sipped it. “Can I fix you some coffee?”

  “Half a pot, maybe. I'll make it, if you're fixing eggs.”

  “Help yourself.” She motioned to the counter, then turned to the stove.

  Jake picked up the tea pitcher, and sniffed. “Starting pretty early on this stuff.”

  She laughed. “There's no vodka in it,
I promise. Just Mama's sweet tea recipe. You should try it.”

  He feigned a shiver. “No thanks.” After reaching for the coffee filters in the cabinet where Joss had gotten them the previous night, he made some coffee, then leaned against the counter while she cooked. “So, you haven't decided about living here? Once your problem is solved, that is.”

  “My problem,” she repeated. “You make it sound so clinical. I'm still not convinced the place isn't haunted. And no, I don't care to live in a freaking haunted house. Even if you prove to me it's not, I don't know that I could stay here. Every day that goes by makes me dislike the place a little more.”

  He cocked his head as he listened. Yesterday she'd said fucking, today it was freaking. Was she simply more agitated yesterday? She seemed calm this morning. It was a curiosity, though. People usually used one or the other. “Question. Why stay? There's nothing holding you here. Tell the lawyer to sell the place and send your check to New Orleans.”

  She flipped the eggs and faced him, appearing thoughtful. “I considered that. Believe me, after that first night, I was packed and ready to take off. But something niggled at me—a little feeling in the pit of my stomach, that asked, 'Why are you letting them chase you out?' The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. This is my house now. I should be able to stay here, if I want.”

  He nodded. “That's true. But, you told me several times this place scares the shit out of you, pardon my French. I'd think you'd want to catch the next train for The Big Easy.”

  She smiled, and served omelets on two plates. They grabbed drinks and utensils, then sat at the table. “If you must know, things in The Big Easy aren't so easy these days. Mama and I went round and round about the whole Edward Cooper issue. She's still mad that I came here.”

  Jake took a bite of his omelet, and paused to savor it. “This is fantastic,” he motioned with his fork. “Edward Cooper was your father?”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “Yes, he was.”

  He devoured the omelet, sipped coffee, and continued to mull things over. “So you and your mother argued. That's why you want to stay here? No place else to go?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, detective.”

  “All part of the job.” Jake glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, I'm off duty in an hour. I'd like to comb through the house, one more time, before I have to go get a couple of things done.”

  Her eyes widened. “You're leaving?”

  He reached for her hand, and squeezed. “I'll be back. I don't have any plans this weekend, other than solving the mystery of this house.”

  “But you won't be on duty?” She looked skeptical.

  “It doesn't matter. If I need back up, I can get it. Sunday is technically my day off. No big deal.”

  “You're willing to spend your day off helping me?”

  Jake almost laughed, but caught himself. He bent forward and, in a serious tone, said, “It's a tough duty, but yeah, I'll step up and volunteer.”

  Joss blushed. She reached for their plates and stood, going to the sink.

  “Let me help you.” He followed, taking the plates from her.

  “We could try out the dishwasher.”

  “Nah, this'll just take a minute.” He washed and she dried, so they were done quickly.

  Joss folded her dishtowel and laid it on the counter. “You're pretty handy to have around.”

  He grinned. “Thanks. I do my best.”

  She licked her lips as she gazed into his eyes.

  They were inches apart. For a moment, he could barely breathe. He'd never seen eyes so brown and clear, lips so perfect, too kissable to ignore. “Joss,” he murmured.

  “Do you always have to talk?” She stood on tiptoes and reached up, lowering his mouth to hers.

  He gave in, and returned the kiss. Her lips tasted as good as they looked, and soon his tongue was exploring the depths it could reach. She kept pace with him, allowing her tongue to bat against his before tracing the edges of his teeth.

  Jake groaned, and pulled away. “Damn. That was better than I'd imagined, and I have a fine imagination.”

  She grinned, and looked him up and down. “If I had to wager, I'd bet you have lots of fine parts.”

  He laughed, and loosened her hand from his shirt. Kissing her knuckles, he squeezed and swung her hand back and forth between them. “Are you going to help me look around again? Eventually we're going to spot something.”

  “Why not? I've got nothing but time.”

  “Then let's go. I'm feeling lucky.”

  “Ha!” she smirked.

  Grinning, he pushed her out of the kitchen.

  Chapter Three

  His second trip through the house produced no results, but Jake wasn't discouraged. He knew it was simply a matter of time before he uncovered the where. Then, the real work would begin, tackling the who, and perhaps more importantly, the why.

  He left Joss going through papers in the study, and went to the police department to take care of his own paperwork. Several hours later he swung by his house, and packed a few more clothes. He headed back to Joss's with a carryout pepperoni and mushroom pizza.

  “That smells great.” She took the box and set it on the kitchen table. “I'm starving!”

  “Me too,” he agreed. “I haven't eaten since the eggs.” He got out plates and napkins. “Everything quiet here?”

  “Too fucking quiet,” she muttered, and bit into a piece of pizza before sitting down.

  He watched her movements, noticed that she seemed agitated again. She'd told him yesterday, the closer it got to nightfall, the more nervous she became. He wondered if that was the only reason. “You okay?”

  “Sure. Just hungry.” When she glanced at him, he saw her eyes were glassy. What's going on?

  The food—or his return—seemed to calm her. They talked and joked as they ate, then moved to the sofa.

  “You might want to sleep down here tonight,” he suggested. “It's not as noisy.”

  “Where will you be sleeping?” She cozied up next to him.

  “Joss.” He pulled back.

  “Why do you keep doing that? Every time I touch you, you move away. A girl might start to wonder.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I think we need to take things slow. Believe me, that's not what all of me thinks. But I'm trying to keep a clear head.”

  She ran the back of a finger down the side of his face. “You told me you were off duty.”

  “I am.” He shifted uncomfortably. The closer she got, the harder he found it to resist.

  “Then relax,” she murmured, leaning in to nuzzle his neck.

  Jake groaned, tired of struggling, ready to take her advice. He was off duty, they were both adults—maybe it was time to stop thinking so much. He sunk lower into the sofa, and she rolled on top of him.

  Their lips met and they kissed, then she was gone again, nibbling his ear. He dragged his hands up her back, under the blouse, touching skin. She was soft and warm, and suddenly he couldn't get enough. His fingers attacked her buttons, hers tackled his, both shirts were pushed away. Jake fumbled with her lacy peach bra, so Joss reached around and flicked it open, tossing it aside.

  She was as beautiful as he'd imagined. Lifting her above him, he buried his face in the valley between her breasts, and nuzzled.

  He reached for the snap of her jeans when something roared, setting off an ear-splitting pandemonium of animal noises. “Son of a bitch!” He sat up, and looked around. It had grown dark outside, and he hadn't noticed. I'm sure as hell noticing now.

  His eyes locked on hers, and he saw a brief flash of terror. “Stay here!” he ordered, and bolted for the stairs.

  The animal noises grew louder as Jake ascended the stairs. In Joss's bedroom, and the room next to it, the sound created an ear-drum shattering din. He struggled to keep searching, even as the noise grew intensely painful.

  The source was tough to pinpoint, but he estimated it was coming from
the ceiling. There was a floor above them. He'd figure out which rooms were above these two and inspect the floorboards closely.

  The racket continued, louder than the Kansas City Zoo's monkey house at feeding time. His head pounded. He thought about dashing down the stairs, grabbing Joss, and getting the hell out, even though he knew that wouldn't accomplish anything. He worked through the pain, forcing himself up to the third floor.