Victoria House (Haunted Hearts Series Book 2)

by Denise Moncrief

  He moved closer to her and placed his hand over hers where she rested it on the counter. “You felt the chill as soon you came into the room, didn’t you?”

  She nodded but didn’t pull her hand away.

  “I didn’t. I had to step into your circle to feel it.” He leaned in. “Has it occurred to you that the reason you feel things so deeply when you’re here is that you have a genetic connection to Victoria Hamilton?”

  She drew her hand away and laughed. “I’m not related to Victoria. She was Alfred Hamilton’s second wife. My great-grandmother was his first wife.” She smirked as if she’d just won a major argument. “So you see, that theory blows.”

  He groaned. Of course, she was right. Victoria Hamilton didn’t have Alfred’s child, but she hadn’t died childless.

  Chapter Twelve

  The pizza had been eaten and the wine killed. Tori glowed from the inside out. Surely her face was brighter than usual. A big round white glowing disk. If the lights went out, maybe she wouldn’t need a flashlight. The thought made her giggle and then burp.

  Gray took her glass from her. “I think you’ve had enough.”

  His smile made her insides go all wobbly. “Yeah, I’ve had my limit.” She teetered a little before she caught her balance.

  He was by her side in a flash, steadying her. “Whoa! Take it easy.”

  He didn’t appear to be any more stable than she was. The alcohol had obviously combined with their exhaustion to make them both more than a little tipsy. She recognized the dangerous circumstance for what it was. A little alcoholic lubrication sometimes made her say and do things she wouldn’t otherwise. She was all about self-control, and too much wine made her feel so out of control. Vulnerable.

  Gotta be on my guard. Can’t let anything happen between us. Keep my distance. Yeah, that’s it. Can’t let him know I have the hots for him.

  She had to do something distracting. “Hey, you wanna take a tour?”

  He grinned. “Why don’t you point out all the spots where something happened?”

  She didn’t know if she wanted to do that, but at that moment she was more than willing to be his tour guide. “Come on. First stop on this tour is the ballroom.” She flung her hand toward the swinging door and he held it open for her.

  “Ladies first.”

  “Ooh, how gallant. Are you letting some southern manners show?”

  “I’ve never been accused of having manners.” He placed his hand over his heart as if he’d been wounded. “My momma raised me to be a perfect jerk.”

  She giggled and her laughter sounded like shattering glass. Did she really sound that unnatural? Was the buzz affecting her hearing?

  She led him into the ballroom. The full moon had already risen in the night sky, its light shining through the plate glass and giving the room an eerie gray-white glow. Shadows wiggled and slid in the corners of the room.

  She waved her arm and pointed toward the flooring. “Here is our first exhibit. The missing pieces of flooring that spell my name.”

  He was suddenly serious. “Tori, I don’t see anything.”

  She focused her wobbly vision on the floor where she remembered the horrid message. The parquet was worn and damaged, but there were no gaps. Every piece of flooring was in its place. At least, it appeared that way.

  “I don’t understand. Last time I was here, there were pieces missing. It spelled out...”

  His heat warmed her back. He stood so close she could feel his breath on the top of her head. “Spelled out what?”

  “Tori must die.”

  She moved away from him a few feet and turned to get his reaction. His intense gaze seemed to study her, perhaps trying to decide if she was making it up or not.

  “You believe me, don’t you?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Even though you know what happened in Little Rock?”

  He sighed. “I’m sure I haven’t heard the whole story. At least, not your side of the story.”

  “Most everyone I worked with thought I was delusional. Just because my mother...”

  He took a step toward her, lifted his hand as if he was about to stroke her cheek, and then dropped his arm.

  “Are you?”

  “I know what I saw. I know what I heard.”

  “Do you believe there are things that can’t be explained in the natural realm?”

  His eyes still held hers. She was mesmerized by the intensity of his direct gaze. The question was important to him. How she answered would determine the nature of their relationship forever.

  “Yes, I do. But I also know I don’t want to know about them.”

  He nodded toward the floor. “That...” He breathed in deeply as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen and then shook his head. “That isn’t paranormal. Someone is playing tricks on you.”

  He moved the few paces to the spot where the flooring had been missing and kicked the loose pieces with the toe of his shoe. Bits of parquet scattered across the wood floor.

  “You see?”

  “Well, I wondered...”

  “What else happened in this room?”

  “Just that I felt so heavy in here, and I felt someone tap me on the shoulder when I knew I was alone.”

  “Hum, if you were already creeped out, that could have been your imagination.”

  “I have a good imagination.” She swayed a little toward him.

  His smile broadened as he inched closer to her. “I’ll bet you do.”

  Stop it, Tori! Stop flirting. Bad girl. She backed up a step and disappointment flared in his blue eyes. Two violet blue pools of longing.

  Her voice wavered as she tried to steer them away from whatever was happening between them. “So let’s go take a look at the front room.” She leaned toward him a little. “That’s where the good stuff happens.”

  Did she just wink at him? Yes, she did. What was the matter with her?

  She turned on her heel and headed toward the door, sensed his presence right behind her, but didn’t turn to make sure he followed.

  No more. She couldn’t stare into those gorgeous blue eyes again or she’d fall...hard. Even then, she was teetering on the edge of diving into the abyss again, that place where relationships become hopelessly tangled.

  Once they arrived in the large front room, she spun around and nearly lost her balance. He grabbed her elbow, steadying her. She brushed his hand off. “Here we are. This is where...” She moved over a few feet. “Right where I felt someone slice me across the throat.”

  When she turned to get his reaction, he was standing at the base of the staircase, gazing up at the balcony. “What’s wrong?”

  He continued to stare at the top of the stairs. “This place has it... The feel. This is the same feeling I had when I stepped into Laurel Heights the first time.”

  “Are you sure that’s not just the buzz from the wine?”

  He smiled. “I’m not quite as tipsy as you are.”

  “No?”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Wanna go upstairs?”

  “Why not? We have time. I’m not gonna drive until my head clears anyway.”

  She pushed past him and ascended the stairs, reaching the balcony before she could catch another breath. “Nothing happened when I went into this room.”

  She opened the door to the nearest bedroom on the right side of the hallway. When she stepped across the threshold, a blast of chilled air rushed past her. She stalled and pressed her hand against her chest, suddenly frightened.

  “Did you feel that?”

  He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms from behind and the warmth of his hands heated her skin. “Yeah, I did. Are you okay? We don’t have to stay if this is too freaky for you.”

  She gulped down her fear. “I’m all right.”

  She wriggled out of his hands and moved over to the window. Kept her back to him. Telling him what she’d seen was harder than she would have ever imagined, but she was determined to be
straight with him.

  “Friday, when I was leaving, I looked up at this window and I saw someone standing here.” She swallowed hard, recalling the eerie feeling the sighting had provoked. “A woman. She kind of glowed and shimmered. Whatever she was, she wasn’t natural.”

  She turned to face Gray and laughed, a hitchy little hiccup of anxiety. “I figure you’re one of the few people in the world who won’t think I’m crazy for seeing things that aren’t natural.”

  He smiled. “I’ve been accused of that before. Makes me careful who I tell my stories.”

  “I can understand that.” She closed the gap between them, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward the door. “Then there’s this other thing.”

  He let her tug him down the hallway. She released his hand and pointed at the stubbornly locked door at the end.

  “Try to open it.”

  He grasped the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. “Huh. I’ve heard about this.” He leaned closer to the lock and inspected it. Rubbed his finger along the wood door trim. “Someone’s tried to open this with a sharp tool. Look at the grooves.”

  She leaned in next to him to get a better look. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  When he straightened, he bumped into her. She wobbled a bit, still exhibiting the effects of the wine. His fingers wrapped around her elbow, sending an electrical shock up her arm. “Careful there. Don’t fall.”

  “Might be too late,” she murmured and then clamped her mouth shut tight.

  “Huh? What was that?” A mischievous light flickered in his gorgeous eyes. Had he understood her indiscretion?

  She shook her head. No way was she repeating what she’d said.

  He gave the doorknob one more shake. “Let’s find something to pry the door open. I would love to see what’s on the other side. I’ve heard this was the room where Victoria Hamilton died.”

  She plopped a hand on his forearm. “Do you want to do an EVP session in there?”

  “Well...uh...” He seemed startled by her suggestion and a bit unsure of what he wanted.

  “Isn’t that why you came up here tonight? I mean, the real reason. You didn’t really need to see the trailer from here, did you? Come on, Mitchell Grayson, admit it.”

  His eyes flared with excitement. “You’re right. I didn’t invite myself up here because of what you saw from your driveway.”

  “Then, let’s ghost hunt. You wanna?”

  He seemed hesitant. Maybe she was being too light-hearted. He took the whole ghost hunting thing so seriously.

  “Let’s find something to pry the door open. Once we get into the room...”

  She turned and headed toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get the crow bar out of your trunk.”

  He laughed. “How do you know I have a crow bar in my trunk?”

  “Don’t all men have a crow bar in their trunk?”

  He caught up with her and they descended the stairs together. “You always surprise me, Tori. I never know what to expect from you. I’ve never met a woman like you before. You’re not...”

  “Feminine?”

  “Oh, no. That’s not the right word. You are definitely feminine.”

  She grinned. “Thank you...I think. That was a compliment, wasn’t it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, then, maybe you think I’m not...” She was out of adjectives all of a sudden.

  “I was going to say you weren’t a weenie.”

  She laughed. “You mean I don’t scare easily?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong about that. I do scare easily. I’m scared right now.”

  His mood turned serious again. “What are you scared of Tori?”

  You. I’m scared of you. You could steal my heart and I’d never get it back.

  She circled her finger in the air in front of his face. “Oh, no. I’m not telling you that.”

  He grinned as if he already knew.

  ****

  Within minutes, they had retrieved the crow bar and returned to the locked bedroom door.

  “Are you ready to find out what’s on the other side?”

  She bit her lower lip and then shook her fear off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  He jammed the business end of the crow bar into the tiny crack between the door and the jamb and leveraged the tool back and forth until the wood began to splinter. “This is tougher than I expected it to be,” he muttered.

  “Did you really think it would be easy? Someone else has already tried this.” She pointed at the evidence of a previous attempt.

  “You don’t have to smirk, Tori. It’s not a pretty look for you.”

  “What would be a pretty look for me, Gray?” She wanted to bite the words back as soon as they dropped from her mouth.

  “Well, I think you would look better with...” He gave the crow bar one more jab and pull, and the lock broke free from the jamb bringing the striker plate with it. “See there? And you thought I couldn’t do it.” He shoved the door all the way open and motioned her inside. “Your house. You go first.”

  She growled at him, took the first step into the room, and felt along the wall until she located a switch. The sudden brightness of the light fixture revealed a rather ordinary room. Nothing popped out as unusual or paranormal. The decor seemed a bit more modern than the other bedrooms in the house.

  “I bet this was the room my grandmother Pearl used.”

  He stood next to her. “Yeah, you think so?”

  “The bed linens are newer than the stuff in the other rooms. Otherwise, there doesn’t seem to be anything unusual about this room.”

  “Then why was the door locked?”

  Chill bumps erupted on her skin. Tori rubbed her hands up and down her arms, not that she was cold, but that she was suddenly ill at ease, as if a shadow had passed over her grave.

  “She’d dead now, so I can’t ask her why she left the door locked, but the story goes in our family that something happened to her in this house. That she left one night without taking anything with her and never returned. Like she never wanted to see the house again and it wasn’t worth it to her to get her stuff out of here. If that’s true, where are her things? This room doesn’t look like anyone ever lived in it. There are no personal things lying around. Come on, Gray, you know what a place looks like when it hasn’t been lived in.”

  “Hum...that’s interesting. And you think she used this room?”

  “Well, I don’t know for sure, but the other rooms are furnished more from the twenties and this room looks very 1950s. That would be her era.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense. So what do you want to do? You want to provoke?”

  “Really, Gray. I hate that word. Can’t we just turn your gizmo on and ask questions.”

  “Tori, that is provoking.”

  “No, I thought provoking was when you asked them questions that would make them mad.”

  “Some people do it that way. I prefer to be nice.”

  She laughed. Was Gray ever nice? Her insides heated again. She bet he could be very nice.

  “Okay, then. Let’s be nice.”

  “The story goes that Victoria Hamilton was murdered right there.” He pointed toward the bed. “So let’s lie down where she died and start the recording. I’ll ask the questions.”

  She hid her reaction. Lie on the bed with the hottest man she’d ever met in a spot where someone had been murdered? Her heart pounded hard against her ribs. She shook off every reason she had to say no. Foolishly, in her opinion.

  “Sure, why not?” She marched over to the bed and slid onto the far side away from the door. She might be scared, but she was no chicken. “And, of course, you do the interview. You’re the expert.”

  “Your sarcasm is lethal, Tori.”

  Was she being sarcastic? Maybe a little. She questioned his expertise. At least, when it came to provoking spirits or whatever he wanted to call them.

 
; Before he followed her, he propped the door open with a chair. The curtains in the bedroom had been pulled together tight so that no hint of light wiggled between the panels of heavy cloth. Dull light streamed in from the fixture in the center of the hallway outside. Moonlight filtered in from the large window at the end of the hall.

  She stared at the drapes. Hadn’t she seen a light glow from this window? How had that happened with the curtains drawn?

  He flipped the switch and a shiver snaked up her spine. Why did all paranormal investigations have to be done in the dark? Surely ghosts were capable of haunting in the light, weren’t they? Maybe she should Google the question. Tomorrow, when she had recuperated from too much wine and too much Grayson.

  The bed shifted with his weight and he lay on his back facing the ceiling. He placed a small black box on his chest and turned to face her. “Are you ready?”

  “Roll tape.”

  “It doesn’t have a tape, Tori. It’s digital.”

  “I know. Just begin.”

  He sucked in a breath and she inhaled deeply right after him.

  “Mitchell Grayson and Victoria Downing at Victoria House. The time is...ten twenty-three p.m., Monday, April twenty-eighth, two thousand fourteen.” He paused for just a second. “Is there anyone here with us tonight?” The atmosphere was heavy with silence. “What is your name?” Nothing. Deathly still. “Do you know what happened in this room?” A longer pause. An electrical frisson danced along her skin. “Do you know who murdered Victoria Hamilton?” He sucked in a breath and the rush of air between his teeth startled her. “Is Victoria Hamilton here?” An eerie quiet settled over the room.

  He punched a button on the recorder, and they lay still for a long minute, the longest minute of Tori’s life as she anxiously listened for any evidence that they were not alone.

  “So what do we do now?”

  “Nothing. We wait.” His whisper seemed to echo around the room as loudly as if he had yelled.

  “Gray, I don’t think there’s anyone or anything here except us.”

  He shifted a little and rolled to face her. “You have to be patient.”

  She didn’t turn toward him, no matching of his actions, even though she was dying to face him. Instead, she watched him from the corner of her eye. If she turned on her side...well, things could happen. Nice things. Maybe. Yes, with Gray wonderful things could happen. She sensed it. Felt the possibilities to her very core.