“Yes.” She brushed her mouth against his and then pulled away. “Now let’s go meet Dr. Tinsley, expert in parapsychology.”
“We’re talking about marriage and you want to go meet a con artist. You’re moving a little too fast for me.”
“You wanted a fast woman. That’s what you’ve got.” She opened the car door, got out, and paused to look back at him. “Try to keep up.”
He laughed. It was the very last thing he had anticipated doing after the phone call from Tinsley. But the laughter roared up from a wellspring somewhere deep inside and crashed through him. He was suddenly euphoric. Joyous.
He opened his door, climbed out from behind the wheel, and followed Lyra through the front door of the Hidden Beach Inn.
Chapter 52
Welcome to the Hidden Beach Inn. I’m Amalie Jones, the proprietor. How can I help you?”
“Lyra Brazier, an agent with Kirk Investigations,” Lyra said. “And this is Mr. Simon Cage. We’re here to see Dr. Otto Tinsley. I believe we are expected.”
Simon glanced at Lyra, noting the smooth note of professionalism in her voice. He realized she enjoyed introducing herself as an employee of Kirk Investigations. Her obvious delight in having found a career reminded him of his own reaction to being sent out on his first case for Luther Pell. He knew he had grown jaded over the past few years, but the work still had a hold on him. He was no longer obsessed with the thrill of the hunt, but he had a feeling he would always get a little rush of excitement and anticipation whenever Pell presented him with an intriguing opportunity.
But now there was room in his life for something else, something that would bring him a deeper sense of satisfaction and commitment. There was room for a woman to love; room to create a family—a realfamily. He wanted a home, a place where he belonged, and his dream was at long last within reach.
But if there was anyone on the face of the earth who could destroy his bright new future, it was Otto Tinsley.
“Dr. Tinsley told me he was expecting Mr. Cage,” Amalie said. She gave Simon a vivacious smile. “I’ll be happy to show you to his room. Miss Brazier, will you be accompanying Mr. Cage? Or would you prefer a cup of tea while you wait?”
“Call me Lyra. And yes, I’ll be going upstairs with Simon. Wouldn’t miss this for the world. I understand Dr. Tinsley is a renowned expert in the paranormal.”
Amalie was amused. “That’s what he tells me. When he checked in last night he insisted on walking through the Hidden Beach with an instrument he calls a paranormal energy detector. He claims he was able to detect deposits of the stuff in several locations, including my front desk.”
“That sounds like Tinsley,” Simon said.
Both women looked at him.
He gave them a polite smile. “Dr. Tinsley knows how to put on a show.”
Amalie nodded agreeably. “So do I. I used to be a flyer in a circus. Dr. Tinsley and I had a lovely chat about how to read an audience. If you will follow me, I’ll take you upstairs.”
Amalie slipped out from behind the counter with a dancer’s grace and led the way through the grand lobby to the staircase.
Simon took in the high ceilings with their distinctive wooden beams, the sun-splashed Mediterranean colors, the massive fireplace, and the beautiful tile work. The Hidden Beach Inn wasn’t the Burning Cove Hotel, but it looked and felt expensive.
“Nice place,” Simon said. “Evidently Tinsley is doing well with his new act.”
Lyra gave him a quelling glare. Amalie pretended not to hear him. She went lightly up the stairs.
“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ve been following your exciting exploits in theHerald.”
“Raina Kirk tells me that you’ve had your own adventures recently here at the Hidden Beach,” Lyra said. “Something about your first guest being murdered by his own robot?”
“It was not the best way to go into business, I can tell you that,” Amalie said.
And just like that she was off and chatting comfortably with Lyra. Simon shook his head in silent wonder.
Amalie did not stop talking until they reached a room at the end of the hall. She broke off in mid-sentence—something about rumors of a ghost at the inn—and rapped smartly on the door.
“Your guests are here, Dr. Tinsley.”
The door opened, and Simon’s past came rushing back with the force of a runaway train. The usual swirl of emotions struck hard. Affection, anger, despair, loss. He had to fight to suppress the storm.
With his mane of silver hair, short, elegantly trimmed beard, and gold spectacles, Otto managed to appear both distinguished and fashionable. He wore a hand-tailored light blue jacket, trousers, and a pristine white shirt. The collar of the shirt was crisply starched and pressed. His striped silk tie was elegantly knotted.
