Dee Lloyd - Unquiet Spirits

#

Table of Contents

Unquiet Spirits

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Excerpt from Ghost of a Chance

Excerpt from Change of Plans

About the Author

Publisher info:

Unquiet Spirits

By Dee Lloyd

ISBN 1-55316-126-2

Published by LTDBooks

www.ltdbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2003 Dee Lloyd

Artwork copyright 2003 Patricia Storms

Published in Canada by LTDBooks, 200 North Service Road West, Unit 1, Suite 301, Oakville, ON

L6M 2Y1

All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Lloyd, Dee, 1932

Unquiet spirits [electronic resource] / Dee Lloyd.

Also available in print.

ISBN 1-55316-126-2

I. Title.

PS8573.L688U56 2004a C813'.54 C2003-907452-8

Kit leaned back against the office door and released a long shaky breath. She'd done it! Ten minutes ago she'd burned the last major bridge behind her. She could take off on an exciting, carefree adventure any time now--if she could think of a single place she wanted to go.

Alone.

Kit forced herself to focus on the familiar scene. The gleaming desktop looked unnatural without its usual piles of paper. Behind it, the leather bulk of her father's empty desk chair glared at her, emanating waves of cold disapproval. She fought down the familiar wave of guilt. She hadn't made the decision to step down lightly. If she was ever to sort out the chaos of her emotions, she had to get completely away from Florida and its memories.

Yesterday, after she'd performed the unpleasant task of informing Gunther Roth and his team that she could not approve the funding for the next phase of his genetic restructuring research, she'd handed the reins of the foundation over to her assistant until further notice. And as of today, there would be no more Schofields running Schofield Pharmaceuticals. The board meeting had simply put the official stamp on Gordon's role as CEO.

She took a deep breath and stifled the panic that rose in her throat every time she thought about cutting ties and starting a new life.

She glanced hastily around her. The noonday sun poured through the picture window and glinted off the brass desk lamp onto the gleaming walnut desk. She gave herself a mental shake. She should take a memento of this six-year segment of her life. She picked up the onyx pen set Bart had given her when she had taken over this office six years ago.

Their innocent affection had been so comfortable then.

She reached over to flip on the intercom. "Hi, Helen. Please tell Gordon I'm ready to go."

Thank goodness she'd already said her private farewells to her executive assistant and friend.

She straightened her shoulders and stood up as tall as her five foot two frame would stretch. The staff would see the fashionable, decisive Kit Schofield they were used to seeing. She grasped the doorknob and launched herself into the hallway where Gordon waited for her.

"Are you all right, Kit? Would you like to wait a bit to say your farewells?"

There was genuine concern in his brown eyes. Kit wished she could throw herself into his brotherly, middle-aged embrace and tell him what was upsetting her. Gordon would gladly take over and organize her tangled life for her. But she was the only person who could sort out that chaos.

"No, no. I'd like to get it over with," she said, fixing a bright smile on her lips.

As if she didn't have a care in the world, she sauntered over to the crowd of well-wishers who had left their desks to say good-bye. After all, they thought she was heading off on a holiday to launch another phase in her glamorous golden life.

Solid as always, Gordon remained at her side.

They stepped out through the glass outer doors into the humid September day. The hot Florida sun beat down on their heads. The asphalt of the parking lot was so hot that it glistened in the brilliant sunshine.

Kit stopped at the base of the steps and brushed a sisterly kiss on Gordon's cheek. "Thanks for everything, Gordon. You don't have to walk me to the car. It's right over there in the shade."

Annoying tears began to well up behind her eyes as she strolled across the quiet parking lot toward the privacy of her little red sports car. She had to think positively. Who knew what wonderful experiences were just around the corner? Maybe she'd take a long trip. Be away from Florida for the hurricane season.

Deep in thought, she was only vaguely aware of someone gunning a powerful motor about a hundred feet to her right.

Suddenly, tires squealed as a white van with darkly tinted windows turned sharply and skidded into the parking lot. Startled, she turned toward the sound. The van picked up speed and hurtled around the circular driveway in her direction. Was the driver drunk? She took a couple of cautious steps backward toward the curb to give the van plenty of room to get by her. But the driver seemed to be steering right for her.

"Kit! Get back here!" Gordon shouted.

She whirled around and leapt back toward the building. The van swerved and mounted the curb after her. Gordon, moving amazingly fast for a man of his age and girth, grabbed her arm and yanked her hard out of its direct path. However, the front bumper managed to catch Kit's left leg and knock her loose of Gordon's grasp. She spun, flying against the concrete steps of the building.

Instinctively, she tucked in her chin and tried to protect her head with her arms. The last thing she felt before the world went black was a fierce jolt of pain across her shoulders and down her right arm.

In brief moments of semi-consciousness, she was aware of sirens and voices and pain. Above all, pain.

She sensed she was in a moving vehicle for a while. Then there were occasional hazy moments of awareness when a vaguely familiar woman's voice gave brisk instructions and the pain receded for a while. But it returned--again and again.

* * *

Time had little meaning for her as she drifted in this painful limbo.

Eventually, the fog lifted, leaving only the pain. She opened her eyes a slit to find herself in a dim hospital room. Then, Bart bending over her.

His blue eyes were dark with concern and he looked as if he hadn't shaved or slept in days. Just the sight of him made the pain fade for a moment.

She was so glad to see him. It had been weeks since they had decided to do the only sensible thing and avoid each other. She tried to smile at him.

"You've finally decided to wake up, have you, Kittle?" He turned and nodded at the gray-haired nurse standing on the other side of the hospital bed. "Will you call Dr. Wheeler, Bea?"

Bea? Slowly, Kit made the connection. Bea Foster was the private duty nurse who had looked after Bart's father. What was Bea doing here? And where exactly was here?

"She said she wanted to be notified as soon as Kit regained consciousness," Bea agreed. "I'll be right back with your meds, Kit," she added.