Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Caleb’s jaw was set, and Delia could tell he wasn’t any happier about the supernatural phenomenon they’d just experienced than she was.
“I don’t know,” he said as he guided the E-Class toward their destination, which luckily was only a few blocks away.
After an experience like that, she knew she could use a drink.
And she also had absolutely no idea what was going on. As she’d told him just a moment earlier, she thought she’d picked up a syllable here and there from those weird whispers in the chapel, but certainly not enough to even piece together a complete word, let alone a sentence.
The sign for the Cornish Pasty Company appeared on their left, lit up by some neon but not too much by Vegas standards. Caleb pulled into the parking lot out back and put the car in park, although he didn’t turn off the engine. Cool air continued to stream into the cabin.
“Did you know we were going to encounter something like that?” she asked next, and now the look he shot her seemed startled.
“Why would you think that?”
She shrugged. “Well, it was your idea to go check out the chapel.”
“Just so I’d know what I was walking into,” he replied, expression still troubled. “Believe me, a by-the-hour wedding chapel in Las Vegas is just about the last place where I’d expect to run into anything like what we just experienced.”
His words had the ring of truth, so she didn’t bother to press him on the subject. Delia doubted he had anything to do with this.
Well, except for the part where weird happenings seemed to follow Caleb Lockwood around like a bunch of baby ducklings trailing after their mother.
“But let’s go inside,” he went on. “The place doesn’t look too crowded, so hopefully, we can find a table in a corner and continue this discussion over drinks and some food.”
That sounded like a great idea, so she didn’t bother to protest. Instead, she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and opened the passenger-side door, then climbed out.
On the other side of the vehicle, Caleb did the same. Although he didn’t take her by the hand when he came over to join her, Delia noticed that he stood fairly close, as if he wanted to make sure he would be right there in case he needed to leap to her defense.
She sort of doubted anything was going to go down at the Cornish Pasty Company, but then again, she hadn’t thought they would be dealing with anything supernatural at the Angel’s Dream Wedding Chapel, either.
When he opened the door to the restaurant for her and she went inside, she saw the place had a sort of warm industrial vibe, with exposed brick on one wall and the air conditioning ducts doubling as a design element on the high ceilings.
As she’d thought, the restaurant didn’t seem too crowded, and when Caleb requested a quiet table off in one corner, the college-age girl working as hostess only nodded and guided them right over.
She asked if they wanted drinks, and they both ordered beer — Guinness for Caleb and some Voodoo Brewing brown ale for Delia, since it didn’t seem like the sort of place to get wine — and once the hostess was gone, they both settled against the backs of their chairs.
However, she couldn’t help noticing the way his gaze slowly traveled across the interior of the restaurant, appearing to catalog all the patrons.
There was one group of college kids at a bigger table on the other side of the space, and a family not too far away from them, but other than a man and woman drinking beers at the bar, those were the only people eating there that night.
“So….” he said, and Delia couldn’t help smiling a little.
Obviously, he was just as much at a loss as she was.
“That’s probably a good way to sum it up,” she said, even as she reached for a menu. She didn’t know when their server was going to appear, but she figured she might as well be ready for whenever they did.
Caleb took the hint and picked up a menu as well.
Good timing, because the waiter — a guy who looked like he was probably around Caleb’s age of thirty, although with night-dark hair and the kind of warm-toned skin that told her he was probably Native American — came over with their beers and asked them what they wanted to eat.
Since Delia had never been here before, she went ahead and got the original pasty, while Caleb seemed as if he wanted to take a walk on the wild side and got the lamb vindaloo. Their waiter told them their food would be out shortly, and then he headed back to the kitchen, leaving them alone.
“I assume you’ve never encountered anything like that before,” Caleb ventured, and Delia shook her head, then reached for her pint glass.
“Not really,” she replied. “I mean, I’ve encountered temperature drops in some haunted houses, so that part wasn’t so odd, but all those voices at once?” About all she could do was lift her shoulders. “That was a new one.”
“Same here.” He picked up his Guinness and took a long pull. When he set the glass back down again, he had a bit of foam on his upper lip, and despite the possible direness of the situation, Delia found herself wishing they were someplace more private so she could lean over and lick it off.
And that, she thought, was the sort of impulse she would never have experienced before meeting Caleb Lockwood.
No, their chemistry wasn’t the problem. It was just…everything else.
“Should I say something to Olivia?” Delia asked then, and Caleb frowned.
“I was wondering that, too.”
Of course he was. He might have been a quarter demon, and he might have only been in her life for barely six months, but their thoughts seemed to run along the same lines more often than not.
She still wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“I mean, all my instincts are telling me to warn her,” Delia said.
“But it’s not like we’re close. I’m not even sure if she knows about the ghost-whispering stuff I do on the side.
If I try to tell her the wedding chapel she chose might be haunted, there’s a good chance she’s going to think I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. ”
Caleb tilted his head, eyes narrowing somewhat. “Your extended family doesn’t know about your abilities?”
“Well, my parents don’t shout it from the rooftops, if that’s what you mean,” she replied, even as she realized her answer might have sounded somewhat defensive.
But it was true; if her aunts and uncles and cousins had lived in Las Vegas as well, then it probably would have been a lot harder to hide her extracurricular activities, so to speak.
Since they all lived thousands of miles away, though, and none of them was all that involved in her life, the topic basically had never come up.
Caleb’s lips parted, and Delia wondered if he was going to press the issue. However, something in her expression must have told him she didn’t want to pursue that particular topic, so instead of speaking, he only reached for his pint of Guinness and sipped from it again.
“Maybe we should check the place out again, just to confirm what we experienced,” he suggested.
While on the surface, Delia supposed that was a sensible enough suggestion, she wasn’t sure what it would prove. “What…you think if we go back, we might not sense anything at all?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. Nothing in his expression or tone seemed to indicate he was particularly invested in the idea, but she had a feeling he was right.
No scientist worth his salt would ever publish his findings with only one data point, and although neither she nor Caleb were scientists, it just made sense that they should try to re-create the circumstances surrounding the phenomena they’d experienced a few minutes earlier.
And that meant they needed to go back to Angel’s Dream and see if the same thing happened.
However….
“The woman at the front desk said they were having a wedding at eight,” she pointed out, and Caleb only shrugged.
“Yeah, but those places are basically like conveyor belts, right? You come in, get the hour you paid for, and then have to move on.”
That was true. Delia had gone to a couple of quickie weddings of friends or clients over the years, and you paid your five hundred bucks or whatever your particular package cost, had the ceremony, took the photos, and then got out.
Any receptions or other gatherings afterward had to take place in an entirely different venue — often the banquet room of a local restaurant or hotel.
“So we go back at nine after the eight o’clock ceremony is clearing out and see if we can find anything?” she asked, and Caleb nodded.
“That seems like the simplest plan to me.”
Since Delia couldn’t think of any better options, she said, “Okay, we’ll try that.”
It seemed they had a plan. Whether it would prove anything was an entirely different matter.
The manager — or whoever the woman working the front desk at Angel’s Dream was — looked startled to see the two of them reappear a few minutes after nine.
They’d gotten there just in time to see a stretch Mercedes limo whisk away the happy couple, which made Delia think they must have paid for one of the deluxe packages.
The wedding guests had already headed out to their cars, so no one else appeared to be in the building except a cranky-looking guy in coveralls, probably someone on the staff tasked with going into the chapel and cleaning up whatever detritus people might have left behind.
“We wanted to take a look at the chapel again, if you don’t mind,” Caleb said easily, accompanying the request with one of his patented thousand-watt smiles.
So far, Delia hadn’t met many straight females who were immune to that smile, and it seemed the manager of Angel’s Dream was no exception.
“Oh, of course,” she said, smiling in return. “We have one of our staff in there cleaning up and getting ready for our first ceremony tomorrow morning, but you’re welcome to go in. Just know that he and I both leave at nine-thirty, so don’t stay any longer than that.”