Shaw's Landing (Haunted Hearts Series Book 4)

by Denise Moncrief

  Jordan made his way through the swinging door into the kitchen, the only room in the house that appeared undisturbed. Because of its condition, the crime scene guy, Dickerson, hadn’t collected much in the way of trace evidence from the room, a possible oversight. It was a little too orderly compared to the rest of the house, as if it had been cleaned.

  He turned his attention toward the access door to the basement. His skin prickled as if a jolt of electricity had surged through him, and he rolled his head to relieve the tight knot of tension that had formed in his neck. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He crossed the room and stood before the closed door. A strong throbbing vibe pulsed from behind it, drawing him closer, compelling him to investigate. A wave of nausea rolled in his stomach just as Jordan reached out to grab the knob.

  He waited a moment to let the queasiness settle and then yanked open the basement door. The darkness at the bottom of the stairs seemed heavy and thick. Although a storm was brewing outside of the house, not a sound penetrated the almost eerie quiet of the basement below him. He searched the wall near the top of the stairs for a light switch and was relieved when he found it without difficulty. The basement illuminated with an explosion of light, so intense he blinked to keep the brightness from searing his eyes.

  Everything about the room was strange. The atmosphere seemed to suck the energy from him. It was almost as if animosity had become a tangible thing and was pressing against his chest. He gasped, struggling to catch his breath.

  “You don’t scare me,” he muttered and then wondered why he wasn’t brave enough to shout his bravado down the stairs As far as he knew, there was no one there. So to whom was he speaking? The house? He laughed aloud at the idea that he could converse with a house.

  Suddenly, he felt more alone than he’d ever felt in his life. The pain of loss swelled inside him. Grief nearly overwhelmed him, and he was well aware for whom he was grieving. The hurt hadn’t hit him so hard in years.

  Whatever supernatural thing lived at Laurel Heights had the ability to drill down into a person’s deepest hurts. He couldn’t stand the torture of reliving his past pain and slammed the door shut. With a shake of his shoulders, he tried to dislodge the feeling of being suffocated by his emotions. He reached for the doorknob again and another wave of nausea assaulted him.

  It was as if the house was fighting him. He had no energy left for the battle, so Jordan turned to leave, but his forward motion slowed, like cement had encased his feet. His vision blurred and the room darkened. An oppressive heaviness surrounded him, and a sudden surge of cold chilled him, emanating from his core and radiating from the inside out. He began trembling, his teeth chattering. He closed his eyes and then opened them again. If anything, the darkness appeared darker, encompassing him as if he were being wrapped in black velvet, mummy-style.

  He struggled to move his limbs, but could only manage forward motion in fractions of inches. The cloak of blackness thickened around him. His knees buckled, and he hit the floor with his hands pressed against his head.

  ****

  Courtney tugged, trying to wiggle her upper arm out of the Neanderthal’s grip. Actually, it insulted pre-historic man to compare him to Haskins’s security guard, Jake Richards.

  “Found her hanging around outside the gate.”

  Haskins leaned back in his leather desk chair. “Let go of her.” He waved Jake toward the exit. The man dropped Courtney’s arm, left them with one backward glance, and slammed the door.

  She had run out of options, and as she had circled town over and over trying to decide what to do, she’d finally decided the only thing she could do was confront the man who had fathered her. What more did she have to lose? What she contemplated was dangerous and certainly foolish, but she was tired of running. Confronting Fred Haskins might be the only way out of the jam she was in.

  Straightening her shoulders, she prepared for a fight. She narrowed her eyes at him, willing him to believe he didn’t intimidate her as much as he did.

  “You’ve been hiding from me, haven’t you?” He made his assessment with just a hint of reproof in his tone.

  Used to disciplining his subordinates, Fred Haskins was in the habit of getting what he wanted by any means necessary. The fact that she had evaded him for days must have irritated the snot out of him.

  She lifted her chin. “I’m here now.”

  A smile flickered across his lips as if he was amused by the antics of a rebellious two-year-old. Haskins motioned toward a guest chair. “So what were you doing hanging around my gate?”

  She remained standing. “I have something I need to ask you.”

  He nodded. “Go ahead. Ask.”

  “Is it true? Are you my… My God, I can’t even say it. Did you and my mother…” She shuddered. The question was so hard to ask, much harder than she’d imagined.

  “Who told you? Mitchell?”

  Why was everyone suddenly calling him Mitchell? She couldn’t get used to that. To her, he’d always been Gray.

  “I overheard him ask his mother about you. Apparently, he had no idea that you were his biological father either.” She spat the word biological. It was abhorrent to her.

  “I didn’t know you were my daughter. I still don’t know that for sure. I have no proof. Just Mitchell’s word for it.”

  “Were you or were you not having an affair with my mother?”

  He remained silent.

  “He told his mother that DNA doesn’t lie.”

  Haskins emitted a deep sigh as if his life had suddenly made him weary. “Well, that does change things.”

  “So you were looking for me? Well, I’m here. What are you going to do about me now?”

  Haskins stared at her with a calculating gaze. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Where does that leave us? I’m not stupid. This really does change everything, doesn’t it? Because I know you aren’t going to harm your own flesh and blood. Not yet anyway.”

  “What makes you think I would harm you?”

  She laughed, and he flinched as if she’d driven a knife into his heart. An odd reaction from a man she’d always considered ruthless.

  He seemed to shake off whatever he was thinking or feeling, rose from his seat, and straightened his posture. A look of concern appeared on his worn face. “Courtney, I only meant to take you into my protection.”

  “Protection? How were you planning to protect me?” Her stomach jerked with each word she spoke. She couldn’t believe she was confronting the modern day Baron of Hill County. Most men who dared to oppose him disappeared and were never seen again.

  He shook his head as if patiently dealing with a temperamental child. “Don’t be stupid, girl. Jared would have ended up killing you.”

  Haskins couldn’t possibly have cared about her before he found out she was his child. Why was he pretending as if he had? She could hardly stand his belittling of her intelligence, treating her like a child. Like she was his child. He might have fathered her, but he was no father to her.

  “As long Jared lived, I kept his secrets, and keeping his secrets kept me safe. I figured taking a beating once in a while was far better than ending up dead because I tried to leave when I knew too much.”

  Haskins dared to laugh. “And just what do you think you know?”

  She stifled a groan. The man knew what she knew. Why was he pretending he didn’t?

  “I heard you tell Jared to get rid of Cooley.” That wasn’t the only thing she’d overheard, but that knowledge was damaging enough. She might as well shove that out there and get it into the open. If he thought that’s all she knew… The thought fizzled. He would what? Leave her alone? That was ridiculous. Haskins liked getting the full benefit out of his assets. And indirectly through Jared and Cooley, she’d been one of his assets. Leaving wasn’t an option.

  His laughter died. “Cooley was getting out of control. He was too focused on harassing that Standridge woman. I asked Jared to take care of the situation. I didn
’t mean for him to kill the stupid son-of-a-bitch.” No doubt, Haskins’s reply was given for the benefit of any wiretap she might be wearing.

  “Cooley is dead. So what am I supposed to believe?”

  “How do you know that?”

  No sense in telling him everything she thought she knew. She still wasn’t totally certain Cooley was dead.

  She shrugged and examined her fingernails as if the conversation wasn’t causing her all sorts of gastro-intestinal discomfort. Feigning nonchalance was a gutsy maneuver, but she was still trying to convince Haskins she wasn’t scared of him.

  “Is this blackmail, girl? Are you after Cooley’s piece of my business? Now that Jared and Lucy are dead, do you think you’re going to step into their place?”

  She shook her head and stared straight at her sperm donor. “I want out.”

  He smiled. “I’m gonna need someone to clean up the mess Cooley left behind. Why not keep it in the family?”

  “Did you offer Gray the same deal?”

  Haskins came around the desk and sat on the edge in front of her. “Courtney…” He reached for her, but she backed away. He dropped his hand. “Jeremy is dead, and I don’t have anyone to leave this all to when I’m gone.”

  “Did Gray take you up on your generous offer?” Her question dripped with sarcasm. She was proud of the sneer in her voice.

  The man seemed confused and just a bit disappointed. “No, he didn’t. But he will. Eventually.”

  She stepped forward and got right in his face. “Whatever happens, that’s between the two of you. This is what I want. Tell Sheriff Halsey to back off. I want to go back to my trailer, get a job, and live my life.” She moved around him and his big desk, heading for the door.

  Her plan had been to leave town as quickly as possible. Suddenly, the desire to stay and fight for her right to live where she pleased had welled up inside her. Running would not solve her problems. She would simply take them with her wherever she went. The only way to get out from under the load she carried was to face it and deal with it. Come what may.

  Courtney was tired of other people’s secrets ruling her life.

  “And what if I don’t want to leave you alone? What if I want you in my organization? What if I refuse to deny my own flesh and blood their inheritance?”

  He hadn’t denied his control of Halsey. Interesting. It had only been a good guess.

  She turned back toward him. “I’m going to walk out this door. You’re going to let me because I am your daughter. After I’ve left, you will think about how easily you let me slip away, and the idea that you should have done something about me will go through your mind. But you won’t do anything because of what I know, not because of who I am.”

  “I didn’t have Omar Cooley killed.”

  “Jared kept records of everything he ever did for you.” She paused for effect. “If anything happens to me…anything…my friend is going to make sure the FBI and DEA have his records. As long as you leave me alone and you make sure that Halsey leaves me alone, you are safe from me. I don’t like dealing with cops any more than you do.”

  The idea that she had put Haskins in the position of staying safe from her appealed to Courtney. And shocked her a bit.

  As she started to leave the room, she felt his eyes burning her back. She turned around one more time before she closed the door behind her. “Never, ever call me your daughter. I don’t want anyone to know.”

  By the time she walked down the path to where she had parked the bike, she was trembling uncontrollably, occasional bursts of rain pelting her in large dollops, rolling down her cheeks, indistinguishable from her tears.

  She headed out toward the highway that went to Lake Jefferson. Jared had hid his evidence against Haskins somewhere in their trailer. She knew he had. She just had to find it.

  Chapter Seven

  The tension in Shaw’s back was tightening as it always did when he had too many things going at once. He stared out the windshield at the road ahead, concentrating on making a list in his head of all the things he needed to do to wrap up his investigation of both the deaths at Laurel Heights and Victoria House. The one thing that kept gnawing at him was the deep sense that Courtney Crenshaw was in serious danger. The longer she stayed in the wind, the more serious her situation became.

  He had just spent the last few hours accessing Courtney’s records in the Hill County and Fairview police databases. Finding out everything he could about her and her habits was essential to locating her.

  For some reason, he’d stared at her picture for at least ten minutes, just doing nothing but gazing at it. The woman’s past was a nightmare. So tangled and messed up that she would no doubt have a difficult time getting away from it if she ever tried. Something about her determined expression tugged at his heart. A spark of intelligence gleamed from pale blue eyes set into a thin, life-weary face. His reaction to her image mystified him. Maybe he had some sort of hero complex, wanting to help her start over fresh. Maybe he was tired and overthinking.

  He had an expert in Courtney Crenshaw riding shotgun with him at the moment. Even though it was well past midnight after a very long, stress-filled day for both of them, he’d called and asked Josh McCord to help him investigate Laurel Heights. It was curiosity more than anything that brought Shaw back to the house after the forensic investigation at the scene was officially over. Asking Josh to come with him was a pretense and a temptation he knew the ghost hunter couldn’t ignore.

  McCord had been quiet for most of the trip. For a man that talked too much, he seemed to be engaged in his own thoughts. Perhaps exhaustion zipped McCord’s lips. Shaw wasn’t going to push. His questions about Courtney had to come out of a natural flow of conversation or McCord would get suspicious and clam up.

  After a few more miles, McCord finally broke the silence. “So what’s the deal between you and Tori Downing?”

  Great! That topic was something that Shaw really didn’t want to discuss. “Nothing.” He grumbled his response hoping McCord would leave it alone and try another subject.

  McCord smirked. “She can throw some mean looks, and from what I saw today, she was hurling them right at you. I don’t think you’re her best friend.”

  An understatement.

  He sighed. Maybe if he indulged McCord, he’d loosen up and tell Shaw what he wanted to know about Courtney. “She’s not over what happened in Little Rock.” The tidbit was like dangled bait.

  “Neither are you.”

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The discussion might be more difficult than he thought. Apparently, McCord was a perceptive man.

  “Maybe not.”

  “So what did happen back in Little Rock?”

  He steeled himself for an unpleasant conversation. One he’d allowed to happen. “It’s a long story.”

  “Long stories are always interesting.”

  “Why am I doing this?” he muttered under his breath before giving McCord what he wanted. “Evidence went missing from the Lipton case, so she went out to Lipton’s house alone to see if she could find something else to connect Michael Palmer to Lipton. While she was there, she had an experience. The way she described it I think she propped her hand on the wall, and it was as if the house spoke to her. That’s how she found out where Lipton was buried.”

  “So then… she claimed that Lipton spoke to her through his house?”

  Shaw nodded.

  “So she has the gift of touch? What do they call that?”

  “Psychometry.”

  “I bet that freaked her out.”

  Shaw eased the SUV around some debris in the road. “Yeah, she was pretty freaked.” His mind wandered back to the first conversation he’d had with her after she’d been back out to Lipton’s house. Yeah, her experience had terrified her.

  The discussion was much harder than Shaw had imagined. He had been attracted to Tori. If things hadn’t blown up between them, there might have been something there. An electrical sizzle ha
d danced between the two of them whenever they were together. It popped and crackled even more when they argued. But whatever romance that might have happened between them had been lost. Tori Downing was obviously falling in love with Grayson.

  McCord shifted in his seat and rubbed his hands on his pants leg. The guy was sweating. What had him agitated? Surely, talking about Tori Downing didn’t bother him.

  Then he got it. Of course. McCord had experienced a terrifying paranormal event at Laurel Heights. He was probably anxious about going back there.

  McCord let the subject of Tori and his past relationship with her drop, and for that Shaw was grateful and relieved. They discussed a few more things before silence fell between them for the next few miles. McCord seemed to drift into his own thoughts.

  “McCord?”

  He blinked his eyes. Was the man about to fall asleep? Maybe he had pushed McCord a little too hard. He had to ask his question before the man passed out.

  “Do you know where Courtney Crenshaw is hiding?”

  No answer.

  “McCord?” he said a little louder.

  McCord jolted and then peered at Shaw from half open eyelids.

  “I asked you if you knew where Courtney Crenshaw was hiding. Are you going to tell me the truth?”

  A strange expression passed over McCord’s face, one that Shaw couldn’t easily interpret. “If I knew, I’d tell you. I told her she should come in and let us protect her. She wouldn’t listen.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  For a while, Shaw thought McCord wouldn’t answer him, but when he began to speak it seemed the man was pulling up his impressions of Courtney from a deep reservoir of memories. “Growing up in the Jepson house was difficult for her, so she’s kind of tough just like her mother. They had to be. Her father is in the state pen, and he won’t be eligible for parole for a very, very long time.”

  “Yeah, I read his case file. Trudy Jepson is better off without him.”

  Josh stared straight ahead through the windshield into the night ahead of them, his expression blank, as if he were editing his feelings about Courtney and her life and only giving Shaw the condensed version. Kind of like he’d given McCord the simplified version of the Lipton ordeal.