Victoria House (Haunted Hearts Series Book 2)

by Denise Moncrief

  She hadn’t had an opportunity to upload and enhance them yet. Actually, in the midst of everything else that was going on, she’d almost forgotten she’d taken them.

  They stood with their heads together viewing the photos. Six of them. One hadn’t been zoomed enough. One was out of focus. The last four were a series of pictures. The images showed someone tossing a black bag into the back of a pickup. The distance had blurred some of the details.

  “You took them from here?”

  She shook her head. “No, from that window.” She pointed toward the upstairs.

  He glanced in that direction and then returned his attention to the photograph. “I can’t quite make out the license number, can you?”

  Tori took the phone from his hand. “I was going to try to enhance the photos and see if I could pull the numbers up.”

  He grunted. “Good luck with that.”

  “It might work. The camera has a pretty high resolution for a phone.”

  “That was smart taking pictures.”

  He didn’t look her way as he paid her the compliment. His gazed appeared to be focused on the trailer across the inlet. She stared at the side of his face. Could he feel her eyes on him? She was itching to ask him what old Timna had meant when she mentioned the woman who had returned from New Mexico. Had there been a woman in his life? Was the woman the mysterious Caroline?

  Instead of indulging her curiosity, she kept their discussion on point. After all, what she had seen from the driveway of Victoria House was their pretext for spending the evening together.

  “The truck seems familiar to me, but I can’t remember where I’ve seen it before.”

  He sighed and weariness seemed to swell up from deep within him. “The interview with Lucy Kimbrough didn’t go too well.”

  Interesting segue. “What did she say?”

  “She admitted touching the electrical box without gloves on.”

  “Did you ask her why her fingerprint lift was missing from the safe or why the match was deleted from the computer’s database?”

  He shook his head. “She got defensive. Actually, she was downright hostile. I thought it best to keep the missing evidence to myself. If she took it, then I’m not ready to show my hand. She might slip up if she thinks we haven’t noticed it missing.”

  “I know that doesn’t look good for her, but what motive would she have for murdering Jared? She’s odd but she doesn’t seem like the type.”

  Gray laughed. “Really? After you’ve been in law enforcement...how many years...you still believe there is a murderous type?”

  “You don’t have to mock me, Gray.”

  His laughter died. He turned his head toward her. A softened light glowed in his eyes. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  A man who didn’t have a problem saying he was sorry. Those were rare.

  Suddenly uncomfortable with his intense scrutiny, she rushed forward with her opinion. “I still don’t see her as a suspect.”

  “I do.”

  “Explain that to me.”

  He pointed at her cell phone. “The truck in that picture is hers.”

  Okay, that surprised her. She waited for him to continue his explanation.

  “Study the photograph. Are you sure the person in the picture is a man?”

  She pulled up the clearest picture again. Zoomed it in and out. “Oh, come on. That has to be a man. Look at the broad shoulders. The small hips. Do you see any boobs on that person?”

  “You just described Lucy Kimbrough.”

  He didn’t appear to be mean-spirited when he made his observation. Truthfully, Tori would have described her the same way. Kimbrough had a masculine build. Yet it had never occurred to Tori to suspect the person at the trailer was a woman or Lucy Kimbrough.

  “I thought Josh was your prime suspect.” She tossed the comment out there just to see how much he would divulge.

  He rubbed the side of his face. The stubble of his beard was just beginning to shadow his jaw. She loved five o’clock shadow on a man. She longed to drag her finger down the length of his jaw just to feel the tug and pull of whiskers on her skin.

  His eyes locked with hers and a slight smile curved his slips, as if he wouldn’t mind her stroking his cheek just to feel his whiskers.

  “I don’t think he killed Jared. Josh doesn’t have it in him. He’d never hurt Courtney. He might help her run away, but he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do.”

  “You know him that well?”

  “I know him that well.” His reply held no hesitancy. “But I’m convinced he’s involved in the mess somehow.”

  “Why?”

  He had yet to explain to her why he suspected Josh.

  “Last November...or was it December... Can’t remember exactly... Jared caught Josh and Courtney together and nearly beat Josh to a bloody pulp. Josh has a bad habit of getting mixed up with women who have bad relationships. I think he has some kind of savior complex. Thinks he can rescue them from a hard life. Or something.” Gray closed his eyes. “He can barely take care of himself.”

  “Is that why the two of you quit being friends?”

  His eyes popped open. “No.”

  The open conversation they’d been having suddenly slammed like a heavy door caught in a stiff wind.

  He lifted a cooler from the ground and nodded toward the house.

  “Grab the pizza. Suppose we take this conversation inside. I’ve waited years for this.”

  The wind had picked up and a slight chill permeated the air. Apparently, spring wasn’t quite ready to relinquish the earth to summer. She lifted the pizza from the hood of the car, set it on top of a box of cleaning supplies, and caught up with him. They walked together, keeping a slow and steady pace up the hill toward the house.

  “How did you manage to buy this place? Even though it’s in bad condition, it must have cost a fortune.”

  Her stomach muscles tightened. Could she trust him? Could she tell him about her family and not be judged by the misdeeds of people she hadn’t even met? Whenever he’d gotten close to the truth, she’d backed away from him and put some distance between them. Figuratively if not literally.

  She needed a friend. Maybe she needed him to be more than a friend.

  “I didn’t buy it. I inherited it.”

  He stopped as if she’d just exploded a bomb in his path. “What? Are you a—”

  “I’m Alfred Hamilton’s great-granddaughter.”

  ****

  Gray was still reeling from Tori’s revelation when they entered the old mansion through the heavy front door. Light filtered through the cut glass windows on either side of the entry. A large circular table with a marble top and a heavy-looking pedestal took up quite a bit of space in the center of the foyer. A crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling two stories above the table.

  The stale odor of disuse filled his sinuses. It seemed to Gray that the old place had been stuck in some sort of time warp.

  She flipped a switch and the foyer filled with light. Before him, an ornate staircase rose to the second floor. The gold-edged, crimson runners on the stairs proclaimed the luxurious details for which Alfred Hamilton had reportedly spared no expense. Was the thread running along the edges of the carpet fourteen-carat gold? He’d heard it was.

  The place looked different than his vague memories from that Halloween night long ago when Josh, Ashley, and Gray had broken into the place.

  “That is such a beautiful staircase.”

  She sighed. “Yes, it is. It’s a shame that moths have eaten holes in the carpet. Must have some wool content. That means it’s not as old as the house.”

  He smiled. She sounded like the forensics geek that she was.

  He followed her as she pushed open one of those swinging type kitchen doors. She entered slowly and scanned the room as if expecting someone or something to be lurking in the shadows. As the door closed behind them, she rushed to find the light switch.

  Bri
ght light overcame the shadows. She set the pizza on the island, moved across the kitchen, and opened the curtains over the sink, before shivering once and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

  “Are you cold?”

  “It feels like the air conditioner just came on.”

  “Tori, it’s hot in here.”

  She grimaced at him. “I’m freezing.”

  He moved closer to her and stepped into a cold spot. “As soon as I stood next to you, the temperature dropped at least twenty degrees.”

  Her head snapped around. “What are you saying, Grayson? Are you saying I’m cold or something?”

  “I wasn’t making any comment about you at all. I was referring to the temperature of the room. Lighten up, Tori. You’re too sensitive.”

  She huffed. “I am not sensitive.”

  He rubbed his lips together, trying hard not to laugh aloud. She was being so cute.

  Her eyes snapped with green fire. “Are we going to eat the pizza or not?”

  He placed the cooler next to the pizza before glancing around the large kitchen. “You’ve got some work to do in here. I bet every one of the appliances needs modernizing. They look like original equipment.”

  She seemed to thaw a little. “The stove is gas, so I think it was at least installed in the 1950s or 60s. I was afraid I’d have to split some wood and stoke up the fire to brew a cup of coffee.”

  “Now that’s an interesting picture.”

  A layer of ice began forming over her mood again. “You mean a picture of the little woman slaving over a hot stove, barefoot and pregnant?”

  “Aw, come on, Tori. Where do you come up with this stuff? I only meant I couldn’t imagine you splitting wood.”

  Just like he’d said. Sensitive.

  He began searching the cupboards for wine glasses. She’d been so absorbed in her defense of modern womanhood that she either hadn’t noticed him pull the bottle out of the cooler or hadn’t been able to switch gears quick enough to pounce on the change in beverage.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Glasses.”

  When he turned around, her eagle-eyed gaze had zeroed in on the wine.

  “That’s not diet soda.”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s all I had in the house.”

  “You keep a bottle of pinot lying around your house just in case you run out of diet soda?”

  He tilted the bottle and read the label. “Actually, I’ve had this bottle for some time.”

  Laughter wiggled out from between her frown and lit her face with a radiant smile. “I bet you don’t drink diet soda. I bet you don’t even keep it in the house.”

  “No. Never. I thought this might help me relax a little. It’s been a long day. And you made it clear you don’t like beer.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. At that moment, she was all woman. What would it be like to be with her? His insides twisted a little at the thought. His heart raced, nearly betraying him. He could have sworn it beat loud enough to be heard in China.

  She was the kind of woman that wouldn’t want a shallow relationship. Tori wouldn’t settle for something that was only physical. She was the kind of woman that would want the whole package. Take a man body and soul. He sensed it about her as surely as he sensed the hole in his heart needed to be filled by her kind of woman.

  Her expression was suddenly serious. Sympathetic. “When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep? You know you can’t go without and still function.”

  Oh boy, didn’t he know it. How long had it been? How long had he gone without?

  She studied him as if she knew exactly what thoughts raced around in his head.

  “We didn’t have to do this tonight. You should have gone home and gotten some sleep.”

  He swallowed hard, pushing his answer past the lump in his throat. “And miss an opportunity to come back to Victoria House? Un-uh. You might not ask again.”

  He’d almost told the absolute, honest to God truth. He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be alone with her.

  “I didn’t ask. You invited yourself. How many times do I have to remind you?” She smiled as if she’d just offered him a sweet after-dinner dessert.

  He swiveled and continued his search for something in which to serve the wine. Keeping his back to her. Hoping she wouldn’t discern his inner thoughts. She had a habit of reading his mind.

  He wasn’t ready for this. He still needed to get all the hurt and bitterness from his failed marriage to Caroline out of his system. He knew it. He’d put it off. Preferring to stay busy and keep his mind on anything to keep from thinking about what she had done to him.

  When he located some stemware and rinsed the glasses in the sink, he poured them each a glass of wine. By then, she’d found a couple of plates. She pulled up a piece of pizza for him and then one for her and dropped the slices on the fine bone china. Fancy dinnerware for a cheap meal.

  With no chairs, they leaned against the island to eat. He glanced at her every once in a while. She chewed with a distant expression on her face. What was the woman thinking about? The quiet between them became uncomfortable. The silence should have been filled with conversation. Laughter and getting-to-know-you talk.

  “So what happened the other night? I got the idea you had some sort of paranormal experience.”

  He nodded, so grateful she’d come up with a topic of conversation for them. “Yeah. At Laurel Heights.”

  She’d brought a roll of paper towels with her. Amazingly, the woman had cleaning supplies stashed in the trunk of her car. They’d transferred the box from her trunk to his car before setting out for the house. On the way out to the lake, she had confessed she’d come twice to the house intending to clean and never got past her heebie jeebies enough to do anything.

  He grabbed a sheet off the roll and wiped sauce from the corners of his mouth. “Never had anything like that happen to me before. It was... No, I’m gonna admit I was scared out of my mind.”

  She smirked. “I can’t imagine Mitchell Grayson being scared of anything. Not you. Big strong tough cop dude.”

  Was the woman flirting with him?

  He sucked in a breath before answering. “Oh, but I was. Nearly scared the piss out of me.”

  She nodded for him to continue and bit off another hunk of pizza. She obviously had no problems with appetite. He loved a woman that wasn’t afraid to eat. Loved? Did he just use that word when he thought about her? Crap. His thoughts were getting away from him.

  He had to focus. What did she ask? Oh yeah. About Laurel Heights.

  “We decided to do a nighttime investigation of the garage. We’d always thought the garage was the locus for paranormal activity on the place.”

  She inched a little closer to him. “You and Josh?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t going to do an investigation without him.”

  “That’s why you haven’t done one in awhile.”

  She was so astute. He’d never be able to fool her. About anything. He might as well be straight with her.

  “It’s been hard to get past the... Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about our...” He stopped a moment to regain his composure. He wouldn’t choke up in front of her. “I was just thinking the other day that the loss of a good friendship can be as hard as the bust up of a marriage.”

  “And you would know.”

  He laughed, a dry expression of self-deprecating humor. “Yeah. Both happened to me at the same time.”

  “You mean—”

  “Anyway, we entered the garage and started provoking.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Provoking?”

  “Asking questions to try to get an entity to respond.”

  “Oh.” Skepticism erupted all over her face. “That never works.”

  “Well...yes, it does.”

  “No. Never.”

  Why was she arguing? Had she had some experience with paranormal investigation? She seemed set in her opinion.

  �
�It did this time.”

  She plopped her half-eaten pizza slice onto her plate and crossed her arms. “Really?”

  “I’d be glad to play the recording for you.”

  She lowered her arms, and her skeptical attitude diminished a bit. “Go on.”

  “When I asked if the entity was angry that Laurel Standridge had moved into Laurel Heights, all hell broke lose. Everything that wasn’t tied down swirled around us. I couldn’t see anything. And the noise... Almost like we were in the middle of a tornado. Creepiest thing I’ve ever lived through.”

  “And you got a recording out of that...with an EVP response.”

  So she knew what an EVP was. Interesting.

  “You know what? I’ll let you listen to it. You can decide for yourself if someone is answering my questions or not.”

  “Fair enough.” She finally took her first sip of wine. “This isn’t bad.”

  “No, it’s a fairly good vintage, I think.”

  “So what happened out there yesterday?”

  He should have seen her question coming. It was a natural progression. He pushed back his unease. Could the woman be trusted? Didn’t matter. She already knew enough to cause trouble for him. He might as well pull her all the way into the mess. Besides, he needed to tell someone the whole truth.

  “I’m not sure, but I think something supernatural happened. Someone died and there wasn’t a natural explanation for his death.”

  “How are you going to write that up, Gray?”

  Interesting that she didn’t question his assertion or ask for details.

  “I was too close to the situation. The first thing I did was call a friend of mine with the State Police who would understand the peculiar nature of that particular situation.”

  That had been a hard call to make.

  A spark of understanding flickered in her eyes. “Another ghost hunter.”

  He lifted a hand. “Please. We like to be called paranormal investigators.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’ve had a bad experience with something paranormal, haven’t you? I mean before moving here.”

  She turned her eyes away. Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

  “Okay, I won’t push you to tell me.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “It’s still kind of fresh.”