by Thalia Frost
title page
Handcuffs & Haints
Thalia Frost
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An imprint of
Musa Publishing
Copyright Information
Handcuffs & Haints, Copyright © Thalia Frost, 2011
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Musa Publishing
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Lancaster, OH 43130
www.musapublishing.com
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Published by Musa Publishing, December, 2011
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This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
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ISBN: 978-1-61937-057-9
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Editor: Pat Sager
Cover Design: Kelly Shorten
Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Warning
This e-book contains adult language and scenes. This story is meant only for adults as defined by the laws of the country where you made your purchase. Store your e-books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.
Prologue
Applehill, Georgia — 1901
The couple sat on the front porch of their green and white farmhouse drinking cold sweet tea after a scorching August day. Falling night purpled the dirt road some yards before them as they murmured into the darkness.
“Sure was a hot one.”
“Yep, and more work to do tomorrow.” The lanky, gray haired man stretched his legs out and sighed.
“I know, but we’ll make it through.”
“We will, sugar.” He touched her hand, and they enjoyed the stillness of the spreading darkness, broken only by crickets and the buzzing of an occasional mosquito or gnat.
The sound of a team of mules pulling a plow past them on the dirt road broke the stillness of the night. Calls from the driver to his animals to go on made the woman smile. “I wonder who’s out so late working.”
“No telling. It’s not quite dark yet, but near enough so’s I can’t see ’em.”
“Let’s go to bed.” She smiled and took his arm as they walked inside.
The next morning when Alma Graves went out to check the mail, she noticed there were no tracks from the team she had heard the night before. She called her husband Lou and he confirmed it.
“But I know we heard a team of mules.” He frowned, his lips pursed.
“We sure did.” The woman shivered, wondering what they really had heard. Any team of mules and a driver would have left big tracks in the mud. After all, it had been raining for a week.
Chapter One
Zoe Scott pulled up in front of the farmhouse. The long drive down the dirt road had seemed never ending, and dust assailed her as she climbed out of the rented pickup truck. She patted the door as she got out, glad she had chosen this vehicle after the journey over ruts and potholes she’d just endured.
“It’s perfect.” She clapped her hands together with a kind of glee and started unloading the truck. Her laptop and books weighed her down before she even got to her bags. The cloying heat made her groan. She had never felt anything like it.
A summer here, in seclusion, in rural Georgia promised a sort of heaven most wouldn’t understand, at least according to a website for the nearest town to the tiny speck on the map which was Applehill. Zoe had closed her eyes and swirled her finger around a map of Georgia. When she opened her eyes, her finger rested on a town too small to be called one. She had wanted to curse Angie for suggesting she choose her getaway that way, but a deal was a deal.
Angie’s finger had landed safely on Boston, Massachusetts. Zoe had known her chances of that were slim since Angie needed to go to the Northeast for inspiration on her chapbook of poems in progress while she needed the Deep South if she could get it.
Zoe sighed, a smile spreading across her face in spite of a twinge of misgivings. The sprawling farmhouse was all hers for three months, and there was plenty of time to get her novel finished. It had plagued her over long nights of tossing and turning in Pittsburgh, and she just couldn’t get the heroine right.
“It’s because I’ve never spent any time in the South.” The thought made her giggle as she hefted the bags through the creaking door.
Zoe caught her breath in wonder at the rustic charm of the place. The modern amenities were there, but they didn’t take away from the feeling of substance, or the age of the place. Tiny flowers dotted the entryway, and muted tones covered the other walls. A pie safe stood in the kitchen, and Zoe oohed and ahhed over the other touches which testified to a time gone by.
She climbed the steps up to the second floor, holding her breath in anticipation of the bedroom. Its turn of the twentieth century furniture made her hiss with delight. “It’s perfect.”
Zoe fell on the bed and yawned. Her eyelids drooped after the long trip down, more than fifteen hours by pickup truck, but she didn’t want to rest.
Scooping up her laptop, she set it up on the desk near the window. The realtor had sent her pictures of the place and this room had sold her with its view of dirt roads and trees.
“It’s so quaint and rustic. And no phone.” She remembered the last bit from the realtor’s speech.
Dusk shadowed the trees, outlining them in purple. Zoe shivered for a moment, realizing how remote the place was. She had passed a few houses and trailers, some ramshackle enough to make her wonder if they were inhabited. Her breath hitched as she raced to the bed, fumbling for her purse. She muttered under her breath as she groped for her cell phone.
One bar flickered and returned. “Lousy reception.” She laughed, trying to still her galloping heart. “I am so unprepared for this.”
Squaring her shoulders, she set up her work space and launched into writing. It never failed to soothe her, and tonight was no different.
A loud knock made Zoe jump. She sat still, not wanting to go downstairs in the dark to figure out who it was.
Sighing, she got up, making her way through the lighted hallway and rooms below. She had left every light in the house blazing to her relief.
The old fashioned door with its small window panes offered her a look at the stranger outside. Liquid blue eyes—or were they green—stared back at her from a handsome face complete with a firm jawline. The lock and deadbolt were engaged, and Zoe didn’t make a move to unlock them.
“Who are you? It’s after nine.” She made her voice loud on purpose, not wanting to show her fear.
“Nick Wheeler. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” He gave her a smile, showing a row of perfect, gleaming teeth.
“I think I’ll pass. You could be a mass murderer for all I know.”
“I’m not. I swear. In fact, I’m a deputy and your neighbor down the road.” He flashed a badge at her, and Zoe opened the door with a gusty sigh.
“I hope that thing’s real.”
“Oh, it is.” Nick Wheeler walked in, his aggressive saunter indic
ating he owned any space he occupied.
Zoe immediately disliked him. “So, what’s this all about?” She crossed her arms, not offering for him to sit down at the kitchen table.
“Do you mind if we have a seat?” Nick Wheeler raised an eyebrow, and Zoe couldn’t help but notice how perfectly shaped it was and black. He had real black hair, the kind which shimmered blue under the kitchen light. She stamped her foot in anger at herself.
“Sure, sit down. I don’t have any sweet tea, even though I hear ya’ll like it in these parts.” She added a sarcastic drawl to her face, but Nick didn’t flinch. He just folded into the chair and put his arms behind his head like he was lord and master of the place.
“That’s fine.” He stared at her until she sat down, not trusting herself to speak under his gaze.
“What’s the story? A mass murderer on the loose out here I should be aware of?” Zoe got up and got them glasses of water, unable to sit under his unflinching stare.
“Not quite. It’s just…well, some of your neighbors aren’t so friendly. I wanted to warn you when I heard you were coming this way.”
Zoe snorted as she pushed a glass of water toward him and sat back down. “How did you know?”
“It’s a small town. Word gets around.”
“I see.” Zoe sat back, wanting him to get down to it. His Southern drawl drove her nuts. She thought the sentences he drew out could be spoken in half the time.
“Here’s the thing. There are some mean folks out here…mean as snakes.”
“Mean as snakes? Really?” Zoe grinned, unable to hide her mirth at the strange saying.
“Really. Just watch yourself. I wouldn’t open the door for strangers, no matter what time of day it is. They can leave you a note on the door or meet you some other way.”
“Um, okay. I’ve already let you in.”
“That’s different.” He gave her a slow smile and captured her with his eyes. They were definitely green, a shade which was almost blue.
“Whatever. Thanks for the warning. I have work to do, so I’ll show you out.” Zoe stood, not wanting to give Nick Wheeler any more space in her night. He had an air of arrogance about him, and she meant to let him know no small time Southern deputy was going to turn her head or boss her around.
“Thank you. Let me know if you need anything.” Nick reached into his wallet and handed her his card.
“I will. Thanks.”
He walked out the door without another word.
Zoe sighed as she locked the door, checking it twice. “They don’t make ’em like him where I come from.”
Chapter Two
Zoe wrote until her eyes crossed. She pushed away from the laptop, content with her progress.
This is going to be great. I’m getting so much done already. The block which had plagued her seemed to be gone.
She crawled into bed a few minutes later, sure she would sleep well after the long drive and the excitement of the day.
Nick Wheeler’s distinctive face swam before her eyes as she squeezed them closed. Something about him was so…different.
“He’s attractive. So what?” She punched at her pillow and rolled over.
The sound of cicadas surrounded her, and sleep claimed her.
Zoe bolted upright in bed, startled awake to wonder what sound had disturbed her.
For a moment, she heard only her gasps for breath. Then the sound came again. A man shouted something, a jingling and snorting accompanied him.
“What in the world?” Zoe scrunched down in bed.
The sound of animals clopping by on the road in front of the house was a strange one, especially at three in the morning according to her watch.
The noise faded, and anger overtook her. “Nick Wheeler.” She clenched at the sheets. “What kind of dirty trick was he up to?” Maybe deputies in these parts liked to play jokes on Yankee women, or maybe he wasn’t a deputy at all. Zoe decided that was more likely.
Either way, she planned to fish his card out and give him a piece of her mind in the morning.
Sunlight forced her eyes open, and Zoe groaned. 8:35 was way too early to be up, especially when she didn’t have to be. She had always been a night owl, and her muse visited often after nine in the evening.
“Oh, well. At least I can call the deputy.” She padded downstairs and made some coffee. Once her eyes were open, she found the card on the kitchen table.
Zoe frowned and squinted at it. Looks real to me. She picked up her cell phone with less enthusiasm to make the call.
“Deputy Wheeler here.”
“Yes, this is Zoe Scott, the woman you visited last night.” She cleared her throat.
“I remember. How can I help you?”
The maddening calm of his voice made Zoe angry. “You can tell me what the heck was going on outside my house last night.”
“What do you mean? Did you have some trouble? I told you to call me anytime.” She heard the sharp note of concern enter his voice, and it gave her satisfaction.
“Of course I did, and I think you know something about it.”
“What?” His voice held nothing but shock as far as Zoe could tell.
“The noise I heard last night. It sounded like a team of…horses or mules or something.” Zoe bit her lip, waiting for his reply.
“I don’t know what it might have been, but like I said, if you have anyone bother you, you call me. I mean it, Zoe.”
His usage of her first name made her frown. “I will. I’m sure it was a prank.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Something in his voice made her scalp prickle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said.” He cleared his throat. “Do you eat?”
“What?” Zoe laughed.
“I mean, lunch. Do you want to have lunch. I’ll pick you up.”
“Are you serious?” She infused her tone with sarcasm, but her heart skittered in her chest at the thought of Nick’s sculpted physique.
“Totally. I know a great barbeque place.”
“All right. Yes, I’ll go.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up around twelve.”
“See you then.” Zoe clicked end and put her head in her hands. “What am I doing? I’m such a disaster with men.” And it was true. She had been through three serious relationships and always ran away or ran men off before they popped the question. Her parents’ marriage had been terrible, and even at twenty-seven, she didn’t feel like tying herself down to a fate that could prove similar.
She drank the last of her coffee, plunking it down on the old wood table with a thud. “It’s just a date with some local yokel. Settle down.” Putting Nick Wheeler’s green but almost blue eyes out of her mind, she took the stairs two at a time, ready to write her troubles away.
A niggling thought of the night before broke in, but she pushed it aside. What else could it have been than some kids goofing around or playing a trick?
The sound of knocking brought Zoe out of a writing fog. She jumped up from the laptop, amazed she had let the time get away from her. The novel was coming together well, which gave her satisfaction. Dashing on pink lip gloss, she ran fingers through her hair, deciding it would have to do.
She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but the hours spent alone made her ready for companionship, even if it was a man like Nick Wheeler.
He grinned at her from the other side of the door, and Zoe thought he looked even better in the afternoon sunlight. It lit his black hair, making it blaze like blue fire.
“Wow.” She whispered the word under her breath, balling her fists as she opened the door.
“Hello. Glad you agreed to see me again.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Even slaving writers have to eat lunch. Besides, I want to know what I heard last night.” Zoe avoided his eyes as they got into his huge blue truck.
“Honestly, I have no idea what you heard.” Zoe watched his profile, not missing his pursed lips.
“I think yo
u do.”
“No, it’s just…things happen in the woods. You know, the country is sort of a strange place, Zoe, not like the city.” He gazed at her full on as he started the car.
“Oh. Sounds spooky. What do you mean?” His comment intrigued her. Maybe the local deputy of this backwater joint was more than he appeared to be.
“Well, I mean, we all take the material world as the real one, but what about the things which might be right there next to you? Is everything only what you can touch and see?”
Zoe shivered in the heat of the truck as it rolled down the dirt road. “You’re getting deep on me, deputy.”
He gave her a sideways grin making her heart flip. “Can’t help it. It happens sometimes. I was going to be a professor of philosophy.”
“Get out.” She smacked him playfully on the arm.
“I’m dead serious. Life got in the way, though. I made it through college with my wonderful philosophy degree, and then reality called just as I was applying to grad schools. My father died, and my mother collapsed. It was all I could do to care for her. I gave up on the dream of being an ivory tower guy.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.” Zoe saw Nick swallow hard.
“It’s fine. Really. I found out I was suited for law enforcement when I took a job…one of the only ones I could find in town. The rest is history. I was able to take care of my mother until her death a couple years ago.”
Zoe cleared her throat, tears threatening. Why does this man get to me so? “It sounds like you were a wonderful son to her.”
“I don’t know about that, but I did what I had to do, and I’m pretty happy with how it’s all turned out.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Nick pulled on to the highway and tapped the steering wheel slightly. “So, back to what we were talking about before I sidetracked you with my sad story.”
“Oh.” Zoe found herself at a loss for words. “Right. So, you think what I heard was a…ghost or something.” She forced the last few words out.