Chapter Ten
Michelle listened as Utah talked about the fire that took his life, explaining how his last memory was of running back inside to free some people trapped on the third floor.
“So you don’t remember dying?” she interjected before he could continue.
Utah shook his head. “I don’t recall anything but the screams as I ran back inside.” He glanced away. “Those screams haunt me day and night. I can’t get them out of my head. The only time I seem to get even a modicum of relief is when I’m saving a life. Or…”
“Or what?” Michelle pressed, hanging on his every word.
He momentarily dropped his head before raising his gaze to her once more. “Or when I’m with you.”
Michelle’s heart stuttered. She looked at him, really looked at him. He had the most incredible hazel-colored eyes. They appeared green with golden flecks scattered throughout.
Her gaze traveled over his jaw—a jaw that needed a shave—before stopping on his full lips.
It took her a second to realize she stared, and another to realize he’d spoken again.
“Michelle?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
He remained on his knees but sat back on his haunches. “Are you okay?”
Embarrassed that she’d been caught ogling him in the middle of his tragic tale, Michelle surged to her feet. “I need a drink. I’ll be right back.”
She rushed to the kitchen, noticing her hands shook as she grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water.
Several deep drinks later, she set the glass in the sink and rested her hands on the countertop.
How had she gone from having a simple life with friends, family, and a dog to talking to ghosts and learning that vampires really existed in a matter of days? And to top it all off, one of her closest friends happened to be one? She didn’t know, but the only person who seemed to have any answers sat on his knees on her living room floor.
Michelle pushed away from the counter and turned around.
“Jesus!” she gasped, nearly running into Utah. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Though a certain sadness reflected from his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
“Not funny,” Michelle mumbled, feeling a tiny spark of humor amid the pounding of her heart.
With him standing so close, she had to tilt her head back slightly to look into his eyes. “How tall are you?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Pardon?”
A nervous laugh threatened. “I know, crazy question, isn’t it? It’s just that I’m five-eight, and… Never mind; it’s not important.”
“Six-four,” he rumbled, the deep timbre of his voice sliding through her like honey. “Or, I was before…”
Michelle’s gaze lowered to his lips. She licked her own in response—an old nervous habit—and shifted her focus to his cheeks. Big mistake. He had adorable dimples. Dimples?
Her gaze flew to his eyes to find him smiling down at her. “Have you always been this easy to read?”
“I—”
Utah chuckled, a soft, sexy sound that wrapped around her in a cocoon of warmth. “Lighten up. I’m only teasing you.”
Flustered, Michelle slipped past him and returned to the living room. Only she didn’t sit in the chair she’d recently vacated. No, she lowered herself onto the couch.
Utah followed close behind, nodding toward the cushion next to her. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Lowering himself to the sofa, Utah rested his arm along the back.
Michelle folded one leg beneath her and turned on the couch to face him. “Look, I’m really sorry for the way I acted last night. But this really is a lot to take in.”
“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling,” Utah admitted. “I could have shown a little more finesse with my approach. I guess I was just overwhelmed with the knowledge that you could see me and hear me.”
Michelle grew more comfortable with Utah by the minute. “I did some research on you last night. I’m sorry about your sister and your father. But your mother is still alive. Have you seen her?”
“Once. She never knew I was there.”
“Was she okay?” Michelle pressed.
A shadow passed through his eyes. “She was sitting in a chair in front of the dining room window, staring out at something in the yard. She appeared thin and frail as if she’d aged twenty years.”
“I’m sorry,” Michelle offered, somehow feeling Utah’s pain. “I can check in on her if you’d like.”
Utah stared back at her so long, Michelle thought he wouldn’t answer. “And tell her what? You’re there on behalf of her son?”
Michelle grew flustered. “Of course not. I’m sure I can think of something.”
“I appreciate you doing that, Michelle. I just don’t understand why you would want to.”
Why did she want to? She wasn’t sure. She only knew that for some strange reason she did.
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I would want someone to do it for me.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
The squelch of the police scanner shattered the quiet, drawing both their attention to the small device resting on the end table.
Michelle listened carefully as an officer requested backup while responding to a call. “The mother advised that she arrived home to find the house vandalized and her daughter Signal 8.” He rattled off the address. “Copy?”
Chills ran up Michelle’s arms and legs. She knew a Signal 8 meant missing person. She also recognized the address as belonging to the sheriff’s ex-wife.
Utah touched her on the arm, bringing her attention back to him. “Are you okay?”
“That’s the sheriff’s old address. His ex-wife and their daughter, April, live there.” Pulling her cell phone from the pocket of her sweatpants, Michelle dialed Kristin’s number.
“This is Kris.”
“Kris? Hi, it’s Michelle. What’s going on at the Dennison place?”
There was a brief pause. “Give me a minute to step outside, and I’ll call you back.” The line went dead.
Michelle stared at her phone, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Utah pressed, sliding closer to her on the couch.
The phone picked that moment to ring. “Hello? Kris? Talk to me,” Michelle demanded, ignoring the fact that she could practically feel the heat from Utah’s thigh where it rested next to her own.
“Sheriff Dennison’s daughter is missing,” Kris responded in a worried tone. “Her mother had been out of town for a couple days. She returned home tonight to find the front door standing ajar. It appears there was a struggle in the front room. Some furniture was overturned, and a broken lamp lay by the front door. There’s been no sign of April.”
Michelle clutched the phone in a death grip. “When was the last time she spoke with April?”
“Last night,” Kris admitted in a low voice. “And apparently none of April’s friends have heard from her since then either.”
Blowing out a breath, Michelle asked, “Will you call me the minute you know anything? If I don’t hear from you beforehand, I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“Will do,” Kris assured her before ending the call.
Michelle returned the phone to her pocket and faced Utah. “The sheriff’s daughter is missing.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s eighteen,” Michelle breathed. “But she’s never done this sort of thing before. She’s always been a responsible kid. Besides, there was evidence of a struggle in the house.”
Utah shifted in his seat. “Would you feel better if I went to have a look?”
Michelle blinked. Utah appeared to be as alive as any other man. She found it hard to wrap her mind around the fact that she sat on her sofa, conversing with a ghost. “How do you get from one place to another?”
“I’m not sure,” Utah confessed with a shrug. “I only know that if I concentrate on a particular place hard enough, that’s where I end up.”
Michelle studied his handsome face. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve reacted to you. It’s just all so strange…”
The corner of Utah’s mouth lifted, and he slowly rose to his feet. “No need to apologize. I would have reacted the same in your shoes.”
“Wait,” Michelle blurted, moving to stand also. “You are coming back, aren’t you?”
A strange look entered his eyes. “Do you want me to?”
She did want him to. “Sure. I’ll be up for a while.”
“Tell me where the Dennison home is.”
Bending down to open the drawer on the end table, Michelle retrieved a map of Walton County.
She quickly unfolded it, dragging her fingertip along the winding roads until she found the place she sought. “There. It’s exactly five miles west of Ponce De Leon. The house isn’t easy to see from the road, but—”
Utah vanished before she could finish her sentence.
Michelle stood there, slack mouthed, long after his essence had faded from the room. “It’s official. I’m losing my mind.”