Great, she said, sounding a little surprised.
Probably because of the way he looked. I apologize for the way Im dressed, he said, glancing down at the jeans, biking boots and the laundry-worn blue chambray shirt he wore underneath his old brown leather jacket. He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw, then raked it on up through his hair. Not exactly hot-date material.
She looked down at her dress. It hit about thigh-high on her legs. Black platform sandals gave her a few more inches in height, putting them on about the same level. Her eyes came back to him, a tantalizing flush to her cheeks. Is the dress too
Its perfect, he said, meaning it. You look sensational. Meaning that, too.
She quirked a smile at him and ducked her head. Thanks.
Yes,
definitely new territory for her. This was a woman who didnt often feel vulnerable. But she did right now. He couldnt help but wonder why. Even if he hadnt had to make a quick getaway, her vulnerability made him all the more anxious to get her out of here before her real date arrived.
He glanced out the front window toward the street, the fog dense as chowder. No sign of the dark figure hed seen earlier. Why dont we go out the back? Its closer that way.
She lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. He helped her with her jacket, wondering how much she knew about her real date, and opened the back door, glancing down the quaint brick alley to make sure no one was waiting for him.
As they left, he noticed the small sign hanging over the back door. Ridgemont Detective Agency. She worked for a private investigator? Just his luck.
He could hear music and the faint murmur of voices traveling on the sea breeze coming up from Ravens Cove. His heart picked up the beat of her heels tapping the brick as they walked closer to the wharf, wrapped in the dense cloak of the fog, making what was already an unimaginable night surreal.
He told himself hed just stolen someone elses date. That alone could explain his uneasiness. Also he was home again, back in a town hed vowed never to return to. Unfortunately, he knew only too well all the things that could be lurking in Moriahs Landing.
She took his arm, the dark alley almost intimate as the foghorn groaned out past the cove. He breathed in her scent and tried to relax. He was safe with her. But he knew relaxing would be impossible as long as he was in Moriahs Landing. And dangerous.
The apparition came out of the mist so unexpectedly Jonah didnt even have time to reach for his weapon, let alone sense the presence. Suddenly a dark figure appeared in front of them, her black hooded cloak blowing out in the breeze like the wings of a vulture.
He started at the sight of the old crone, her gray hair a silver aura sticking out from under her black hood, her eyes bottomless holes in her wrinkled face.
Reflexively he stepped between his date and the old woman as the crone reached clawlike gnarled fingers toward them.
Its just Arabella, his date whispered. Shes harmless.
How little she knew.
The old womans gaze locked with his for an instant, then she stumbled back as if shed seen a ghost. Or something worse. Katherine, she cried, fear contorting her face as she gasped for breath and reached around him, trying to pluck at the fabric of his dates jacket sleeve.
Danger comes in with the fog, the crone croaked, her gaze on Jonah. Danger and death. Then the old woman stumbled back into the mist, leaving Jonah shaken. If he couldnt even sense an old woman coming in the fog, how did he plan to protect himself from the real trouble here?
Katherine must have seen his expression. Arabellas just local color, she said with a laugh, and pulled him toward the Moriahs Landing Inn. I wouldnt be surprised if the town council paid her to freak out visitors as part of our witch-folklore ambience.
Jonah looked over his shoulder. The old woman was gone. But like him, shed sensed something had come in with the fog, unleashing evil in Moriahs Landing.
They walked past one of the witch shops along the narrow alley that peddled magic, from herbs and oils to tarot cards and crystals.
Im sure youve heard about all this foolishness? his date asked as she glanced into the shop window, then at him.
What foolishness? he asked, pretending he didnt know and that he wasnt still shaken by their run-in with Arabella.
Witches, the supernatural, all the hype that comes with Moriahs Landing, she said with a laugh. According to local legend, early resident McFarland Leary was a consort to a witch.
They crossed Main Street to the entrance of the Moriahs Landing Inn. He opened the door for her, anxious to get inside. Because of the hour, the hotel lobby and the restaurant were nearly empty. A young waiter showed them to a table by the window facing the covefarthest away from the door and Main Street.
When they started burning witches at the stake in Salem, many of the witches fled to Moriahs Landing where they were hidden by McFarland Leary and his consort, a witch named Seama, she said, and nervously plucked up her cloth napkin from the table. Seama and her secret coven give the town its supernatural ambience.