The 45th Parallel Read online

  As they came around the corner, Kat felt like the whole bar turned to look at them.

  “John!” the bartender yelled. “Where have you been?”

  “Working hard as usual,” he called back.

  “Sure, sure.” The bartender laughed. They approached the bar and sat in two open stools facing the water.

  “Kat, this is Jim,” John said. The bartender stuck out his hand to shake Kat’s.

  “What can I get you two lovebirds to drink?” Jim asked. Kat could feel her face getting flushed again. She looked up and John was watching her, a look of mild amusement on his face.

  “How about a chardonnay?” John asked her.

  “That would be fine,” Kat answered.

  “One of yours I assume?” Jim said to John.

  “Of course,” John said.

  Kat watched a small regatta of sailboats come in from the lake. The boaters came right up to the dock, dropped sail, and swung the boats skillfully into place.

  “That was nice maneuvering,” she said.

  “Do you like to sail?” John asked. Jim put two large glasses of chardonnay in front of them. Kat wondered if anyone had normal sized pours around here.

  “I did some sailing as a kid. My cousins had a little sunfish and Uncle Kevin and Aunt Anne had a Catalina 27 we used to take out. I’m a little rusty now, it’s been a while.”

  “We will have to get you out sailing, then.”

  “I would love to.” Kat took a drink of her wine. Unfortunately, she drank fast when she was nervous, and John definitely made her nervous. “Did you learn to sail in Cleveland, or in Michigan?”

  “The first time I sailed was in Cleveland on Lake Erie. My parents had a boat as long as I can remember.”

  They watched the sailors climb out of the boats and head down the boat ramp to join a group of friends at the outside bar.

  “Do you have a boat?” Kat asked.

  “I have a thirty-seven-foot Tartan. It was my parents’ boat,” he said.

  Kat wondered if this was the boat his parents had taken out when they disappeared.

  “John, your table is ready.” An attractive woman was standing behind them holding menus. Strange, I don’t remember him checking in with the hostess. “Right this way,” she smiled sweetly at John and completely ignored Kat. The hostess led them to a small table with a beautiful view of the bay. John pushed in Kat’s chair as she sat down. Something else she was not used to.

  “If you like seafood, I would suggest the whitefish,” John said picking up his menu.

  “I love fish.” Kat glanced quickly at the menu and decided to take his suggestion. A waiter came by the table, introduced himself, and asked if he could get them another drink.

  “I’m fine for now, but the lady needs a refill,” John said. Kat looked down and her glass was almost empty. Great, I will be tipsy and he will be sober.

  “Nice,” Kat said after the waiter left. “Get your date drunk.”

  “I am driving, you know.” John’s lips curved into a sexy smile. The waiter came back with Kat’s second large glass of wine and took their orders.

  “So, have you recovered from your vision this morning?” John suddenly asked.

  “You mean my hallucination?” Kat was a little irritated that he was bringing it up.

  “Do you have visions often?” he continued, ignoring Kat’s question.

  “No, at least not while I’m awake. I have a lot of bad dreams.” Kat couldn’t believe she just said that. She really needed to slow down on the wine.

  “What do you dream about?”

  Kat leaned back in her chair annoyed. Did he ask me out to psychoanalyze me? Is that what this dinner is about?

  Kat didn’t want to keep talking about this, but the words kept flowing out of her like she had no control over them. She looked across the table into John’s dark eyes.

  “I dream about my mother killing herself. I dream I watch her jump off a roof.”

  “Did your mother kill herself?”

  Oh, here we go, he probably already thinks I’m mentally unstable. Now he will have proof. I might as well get it over with.

  “Yes, she was mentally ill and committed suicide,” Kat said abruptly.

  “I’m so sorry, Kat. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  I’ll bet you are. The waiter brought the salads and some bread. Kat thought it would be good to get some food in her stomach. They ate in silence for a few moments.

  “Kat, have you ever thought you might have psychic abilities?”

  Kat almost choked on her bread. “No,” she paused, “I just think I have an over active imagination.”

  “My mother was telepathic. She would know things before they happened. When I was seven, my mother had a vision of Martine. She described her to me in great detail. A week later, Martine shows up at our house to interview to be my nanny.”

  Kat wasn’t sure how to respond. She had never thought of her bad dreams as anything more than that—bad dreams. Kat had also never met anyone who didn’t think she was crazy when she talked about it.

  “Have you ever tried to figure out what these dreams, or visions, are telling you?” John asked.

  “I don’t see what good would come of that,” she answered softly.

  “Maybe the dreams would stop, or maybe they wouldn’t frighten you so much. Maybe you could use them to your advantage.”

  “I’m afraid to let myself go there,” she found herself saying. This was definitely her last glass of wine.

  “Are you finished with your salads?” The waiter had appeared again.

  “Yes, thank you,” Kat answered. John motioned that he was finished as well.

  “I’ll have your dinners in a moment,” the waiter said as he whisked their plates away.

  “So, Martine really was your nanny?” Kat asked desperately trying to move the discussion in another direction.

  “She was. She grew up very poor in New Orleans, got married at a young age to an abusive man and moved up to Cleveland with her son to escape him. She is really an amazing woman. She went to school at night to earn a college degree. She went from being my nanny to being my father’s executive assistant.”

  “Sounds like her life would make a good television movie. Where is her son now?”

  “He is a chemist in Cleveland. He is the closest thing to a brother I have. He and his wife are expecting their first child.”

  “Are you close in age?”

  “He is thirty one, two years older than I am.”

  “Patrick said you spend a lot of time in Chicago.”

  “The winery was not the only thing my father owned. He invested in several business ventures in Chicago. Some as a silent partner, and some as an active managing partner. I need to be there a good part of the year to stay on top of everything. The winery is more of a labor of love. It has only recently started making a little money. I want it to be successful to honor my parents’ memory.”

  “That sounds like a lot to juggle.”

  “It is, but I manage to squeeze in some fun along the way.” John smiled and took a sip of wine. The waiter returned with their dinners.

  “So if you grew up in Cleveland, what’s the Chicago connection?”

  “I was in Cleveland until I was about twelve. Then my parents moved to Chicago so my father could start up an office there for his law firm. He was a good attorney, but an even better businessman.”

  “Why did he decide to open a winery on the Leelanau Peninsula?”

  “He actually grew up in Cleveland, but vacationed in Northport as a child. He loved this part of the country.”

  “Having to step into your father’s shoes must have been very stressful.”

  “It’s amazing how quickly you grow up when you have to. I’m sure losing your mom when you were eight greatly shortened your childhood.”

  “Yes…it did. The whitefish is great, thank you for recommending it,” Kat said.

  “You’re welcome, I’m glad you like
it.” John reached over and put his hand on Kat’s knee. The sensations his touch sent through her leg made her jump and he pulled his hand away.

  “Do I make you nervous?” John’s head tilted slightly to the side as he waited for Kat’s response.

  “Yes, a little.” Kat lied about the little part.

  “Why?”

  “I am just getting over a heartbreak, so I’m gun shy.”

  “What makes you think I would break your heart?”

  “You seem to have quite a few female admirers.”

  “And you seem to have quite a few male admirers,” John said as he leaned closer to Kat.

  “I’m not sure I know what male admirers you’re talking about.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t notice the men in the bar outside turn to look at you when we came in.”

  “How do you know they weren’t looking at you?” Kat asked as she raised one eyebrow. John laughed and shook his head and reached over to rub his fingers along the top of her hand.

  “With your gorgeous legs, I don’t blame them for looking. Was it a college boyfriend who broke your heart?” John asked.

  “Yes, we broke up in December. We had dated since freshman year. He’s already engaged to someone else.”

  “Then he is a fool,” John said as he stared intensely into her eyes.

  “Can I interest anyone in desert?” The waiter asked, startling them both.

  “Not for me,” she answered.

  “I will take the check,” John said.

  Kat excused herself to go use the restroom. She didn’t have to go, but she needed some space from him. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, but she couldn’t think clearly when he was around. She felt like her careful balance of control was lost as soon as he touched her. She brushed her hair and reapplied lipstick. When she came out of the bathroom, John was standing there waiting for her. She noticed the hostess checking him out but he was only looking at Kat.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Kat said. John reached out and took her hand. Any chance of thinking clearly again was out the window.

  “Kat, I have some friends in from Chicago this weekend,” he said as they drove back up M22, “otherwise I would ask you to come back to the house.”

  “Oh that’s all right,” she responded, wondering if it was just an excuse.

  “I need to go back to Chicago this coming week for some meetings. Would you like to go sailing when I get back?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  John turned the radio on softly, and they drove for a few minutes without speaking. “Did you grow up in northern Michigan?” he finally asked.

  “We were here until my mother died. My father had a sales job, so we moved around quite a bit. I went to six different schools before starting college.”

  “That must have been difficult being the new kid in school all the time,” John said.

  “I am the queen of blending in,” Kat said with a sad smile.

  “It’s okay to blend in so long as you don’t lose yourself.” John reached over and put his hand on her knee. He looked over at Kat, his eyes traveling from her thighs, up to her breasts, and then to her face. The look was quick, but it sent hot tremors through her body.

  Kat shifted in her seat, but this time he did not take his hand away. He smiled and held his hand open. Kat was thankful his gaze had returned to the road as her cheeks grew hot. She put her hand in his. She had the feeling he knew exactly what effect he had on her. When they got to Aunt Mary’s house, John walked her up to the porch.

  “Thank you for dinner. I really enjoyed it,” she said.

  “I enjoyed it too. I’ll call you when I get back from Chicago at the end of the week.”

  “Great.” Kat smiled.

  John reached over and touched the pendant that hung down just below Kat’s collarbone. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied it. “This is a beautiful pendant.”

  “Thank you, my mother gave it to me shortly before she died.”

  “It is very unique,” John said as he looked from the pendant to her face, “and beautiful…like you.” Kat felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared into his dark eyes. He let go of the pendant, brushed Kat’s hair back from her face, leaned down, and kissed her mouth tenderly.

  The contact sent waves of intense desire through her body. He placed one hand behind her head and pulled her closer as the kiss intensified. After a moment, John pulled away slowly, still holding the back of her head in his hand.

  “Sweet dreams,” he said softly, his warm breath caressing her mouth. He released her, leaving her dazed, walked over to his car, and drove off. Kat watched his car disappear around the corner, reeling from a chaotic jumble of emotion. Part of her, a very large part, wanted to run after John and jump in his arms, but there was another part that told her to run the other way. When her heart rate had come back down to normal, Kat went inside the house. Aunt Mary was already sleeping. She went to bed and lay, wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling for an hour before finally drifting off.

  Once she was asleep, Kat began to dream she was walking along the beach at night by herself. She stood barefoot in the cool sand looking out at the water. A steady breeze blew her hair off her shoulders and tossed the waves up on the shore. The moon illuminated the beach in a cold blue light until the clouds drifted past and the beach was swallowed by darkness. When the moon broke free, dispensing the dark, Kat could see something moving out on the water. At first Kat thought it was a distant sailboat, white sails billowing out in the wind. Then it vanished with the clouds.

  When the moonlight broke through again, Kat could see the figure of someone walking across the water, very close to shore. It was the dead woman in the gray dress. She was looking at Kat, her mouth moving, her hands reaching, her dead eyes pleading. Kat tried to lift her feet to run but she could not move. Her feet were sunk down into the sand. Kat watched in horror as the woman took her first step onto the beach. She was probably thirty feet from Kat now. Kat watched her mouth, trying desperately to hear what she was saying. All Kat could make out was “Don’t break…”

  Kat felt a presence beside her and turned to look. It was John. He turned toward her with a wicked smile on his face. There were two large black holes in the space where his eyes should have been. Kat woke up drenched in sweat. The chimes from the dream charm hanging above her bed were ringing softly. She looked over at the clock. It was midnight.

  Chapter Nine

  Greg Tilmas stepped out his front door at midnight wearing only a dark blue robe and thongs on his feet. Though the air was still, the chimes that hung from the front porch began to ring softly. The old porch floor groaned under his weight as Greg surveyed the yard and the vineyard beyond. The paint on the railing was peeling, but the porch was still Greg’s favorite part of the house.

  He loved to sit out there at night and watch the plants change. As soon as the snow melted, the plants and trees started to grow voraciously in northern Michigan. It’s as if they knew there wasn’t much time before they would be covered again in several feet of snow. At night, when everything was quiet, Greg thought he could actually hear the vines moving and twisting along the trellises.

  Greg closed his eyes and breathed in the heavy scent of moist soil and vegetation from the surrounding vineyard. He opened his eyes and looked at the moonlight shimmering off the young leaves sprouting from the vines. He smiled to himself, picked up a grocery sack from the porch with his left hand, and an empty wine glass with his right, and walked over to the edge of the yard.

  Greg followed the rows of grape plants until he reached the middle of the vineyard. He took off his robe, spread it on the dirt between the rows of vines, and sat cross-legged on it. He sat very still, and listened to the vines creak as they swayed in the gentle evening breeze. Greg looked up and studied the brilliant pinpricks of light scattered across the black sky. The nights here were darker than where he came from, not muted by the artificial lig
hts of heavily populated towns and cities. From his sack, he pulled out a bunch of twigs and a small log and arranged them on the ground. He also took out a bottle of wine, opened it, and poured the wine into the dirt in a circle around the wood, saving just enough to fill the glass. He then took out a small glass jar filled with an iridescent blue powder and sprinkled it on the wood. Greg clapped his hands above the wood and a small spark from the center of the pile ignited the wood. Greg reached over to one of the plants and clipped off a new shoot and dropped it into the fire.

  “May this harvest be fruitful,” he said as he raised his wine glass to the moon. As he finished the glass of wine, he sensed something moving in the vines. Greg stood quickly and reached for his robe but froze as a woman emerged seemingly from nowhere. She had long auburn hair and wore a sheer white dress. Her skin was as pale as the moonlight illuminating her beautiful features. Her dress did not leave much to the imagination as she was completely naked underneath. Although Greg too was naked, he did not try to cover himself, but stood frozen as the woman walked toward him, her feet bare.

  The woman’s eyes shone in the moonlight like a cat’s. Greg could not take his eyes off her. Her features seemed to change as she got closer.

  “Helene?” he whispered. As the words left his mouth, the woman’s features became more defined. She looked like Helene, yet Greg knew it was not her. Her shining eyes were not human.

  She smiled. “I am whoever you want me to be.”

  “You look familiar, but I know I would not have forgotten you if we had met.”

  “Maybe you weren’t paying attention,” the woman teased.

  “How did you know I was here?” Greg asked

  “The vines told me,” she smiled playfully. “I have come to help you with your ritual.”

  Greg stared into the woman’s eyes, transfixed.

  “Are you an angel?” he asked.

  The woman’s laughter bounced along the vines. Then she let her sheer white dress drop lightly to the ground. Her pale body was perfect.