Laurel Heights (Haunted Hearts Series Book 1)

by Denise Moncrief

  How could he lie down with her, kiss her and hold her, touch her and caress her, and then turn his back and go to sleep...in the same bed with her?

  He was either superhuman or psycho. Was she falling for a superhuman psycho? If she was, she wasn’t quite there yet. Maybe he could sense she wasn’t ready to give herself completely to him, but when had that ever stopped a man from having sex with a woman?

  She dried the drinking glasses they’d used and opened the cabinet to place them on the shelf. Someone whispered behind her. Had Chase sneaked up on her? She whirled around to catch him in the act, but there was no one in the room. Maybe her imagination was getting the best of her. Sometimes she thought the house mocked her as if it had a life of its own.

  She shrugged off her apprehension and placed the glasses on the shelf next to their sisters. When she closed the cabinet door, someone called her name, so softly that the whisper was almost undetectable had she not been acutely attuned to every noise in the house.

  Once again, she turned quickly. She was still alone in the kitchen. She rushed across the room and slammed the door open. No one was in the living room. A shudder rippled through her. The aura of someone else’s presence enveloped her.

  “Who’s there?” she called into the empty living room.

  No answer.

  “I know someone is here. Stop playing stupid pranks on me and face me like a man.”

  Still no answer.

  “No one is going to scare me in my own house,” she grumbled.

  Squaring her shoulders, she shook off her jitters and returned to the kitchen to resume her interrupted task. She picked up a plate, wiped it down, and opened a cabinet door. Suddenly the room filled with the presence of another being. Not in front of her or behind her, but all around her. Stifling and heavy. Bearing down on her. She dropped the plate and clutched her neck. The stoneware shattered on the floor.

  Her muscles constricted and closed off her throat, and the edges of her vision blurred and turned dark. She was only seconds from blacking out when a knock rattled the front door. The heaviness evaporated in an instant. She remained rooted where she stood, gasping for breath.

  “Miss Standridge? Are you home?” Grayson’s muted voice filtered through the house.

  His arrival couldn’t have been timelier. His appearance at her front door had disrupted whatever force had her in its grasp.

  “Coming,” she rasped. She straightened her shirt and ran trembling fingers through her tangled hair. How had she become so disheveled?

  When she finally opened the door, Grayson stood on her front porch with a red-haired man she’d never seen before.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Standridge. This is Josh McCord. He’s with our Crime Scene Unit. Can we come in for a moment?”

  She was still trembling from the experience she’d just survived, so she stood her ground, in no mood for visitors of any sort, especially not Grayson and his co-worker.

  “I don’t have time right now.” Her response sounded weak and unsure when she wanted to sound firm and a bit hostile.

  Grayson smirked. “Your schedule is that busy?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Did the cop have any manners? When a person is blown off they should blow away.

  He took a step forward and placed his palm on the flat surface of her front door. Where had he learned his manipulation tactics?

  “Please. We need to talk.” He stared over her shoulder into her living room.

  She moved forward to back him up and then pulled the door almost shut behind her. “If this is about my cousin, I already told you I don’t know anything about his death.”

  Grayson cleared his throat. “No, this is about your handyman.” He paused. He made the word handyman sound sexual and a bit perverse. “He wouldn’t happen to be around, would he?”

  “He’s in the garage apartment.” Maybe she shouldn’t have told him that.

  Grayson grinned. “I thought he wasn’t going to live up there.”

  How did the cop know about that? She didn’t remember talking to him about Chase’s living arrangements.

  “He’s not.”

  She didn’t owe him any further explanation. Actually, she didn’t owe him as much as she’d given him. She nailed him with a hard stare. He didn’t even flinch. The man was obviously not easily intimidated or put off.

  “If you haven’t asked Chase about his past, you should. He has a lot to hide. He’s a dangerous man.”

  There it was. Chase had told her Grayson might try to drive a wedge between them.

  She laughed at the absurdity of his suggestion. “I don’t think he’s as dangerous as you are.”

  McCord stifled a laugh, but Grayson didn’t seem to hear her sarcastic reply.

  “You should kick him out before he brings you more trouble.”

  She couldn’t believe the cop’s nerve. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now if you don’t mind—”

  “I’m not sure which one of you is more dangerous—”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Grayson’s eyes sparkled. He thought he had her. “You know who he is, don’t you?”

  “You mean do I know he’s Rand’s brother? Of course, I do.”

  Her reply startled him, but only for a moment. He recovered from his surprise quickly. “He’s hung up on you. He’ll probably stand up for you to his own brother. That’s a dangerous place for both of you to be in.” He chuckled. “Which is ironic because you’ll probably end up setting him up just like you did Rand.”

  She didn’t appreciate Grayson’s sense of humor, and she’d grown tired of the conversation.

  “Lieutenant Grayson...” She paused to allow her anger to calm a bit. “I didn’t set Rand up. Whatever he got into, he walked into on his own without my help. I know a lot of people think I let him take the fall for something I did, but I didn’t kill Skip Watson.”

  “Then why did you change your story?”

  “I thought I was being loyal to my boyfriend, which as you’ve probably figured out by now is a smart move because being disloyal to Rand gets a person dead. I decided it was time to tell the truth after he tried to beat me up the second time. I’d hoped by sending him to jail I could feel safe again, but I was wrong. I’ll never be safe as long as Rand Peterson is alive.”

  She stopped to catch a breath and crossed her arms over her chest, hoping her body language would convey to Grayson how closed she was to the discussion of her relationship with Chase.

  “You know you’re in danger if he sent his brother here to find you, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know, and I’m sure Rand knows where I am by now. He’s probably already sent someone out here to find me because Chase wouldn’t do his dirty work for him. Chase is staying here to help me fight the man that Rand sends here to kill me. So don’t talk about who’s dangerous when you don’t know what you’re talking about. Neither of us killed anyone.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  No, she wasn’t.

  “He went to jail for killing his wife.”

  Laurel’s heart skipped a beat or two. “His wife?” Her arms slowly lowered. “What are you trying to do, Grayson? Drive a wedge between us? Just stop. I don’t want to hear any more about Chase. If I want to know more about his past, I’ll ask him about it myself.”

  “How long has your father been dead?”

  His question yanked her breath from her chest. Such a swift change in subject. “I didn’t know he was dead. I haven’t seen him since he left my mother.”

  “He had Celeste committed to a psychiatric hospital three months before she died. Did you know that?”

  Her family history was a mystery to her. Always had been.

  “No, I didn’t. Like I told you before, I’d never heard of Celeste until her lawyer called me.”

  “You father has been dead for six years.”

  She didn’t catch the significance of his statement right away. Then it hit her. Whoever had Celeste committed h
ad been impersonating her father.

  “Do you have any idea who pretended to be your father?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  What was he implying? He came just short of accusing her of being in on it…whatever it was.

  “Maybe it was your cousin James.”

  “How would I know? I wasn’t here then.”

  Grayson smiled, but no warmth lit his eyes. “You said you’d never met James, didn’t know him, but if there is a connection between you and your cousin, I’m going to find it.”

  “Do what you have to do. You won’t find one.”

  “Maybe Chase knew your cousin...”

  Was there a connection between Chase and her long lost cousin? There couldn’t be.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Grayson glanced at the other man. It seemed a silent communication passed between them.

  He hesitated before he spoke again. “Has anything unusual happened in this house...or in the garage?”

  She was suddenly on alert. How could he know what had been going on? Had Chase told him more than she thought he had?

  “What do you mean?” she asked, even though she suspected what Grayson was hinting at.

  “You know, unexplained things,” McCord answered.

  Pretending to be outraged by his intrusion was her best defense against questions she didn’t want to answer. “Okay, that’s it. Get off my property.”

  McCord fluffed the hair on the back of his head, and Grayson shifted from one foot to the other, but neither man moved from her porch. If they didn’t leave, what was she going to do? Call the cops?

  Had Grayson knocked on her door under the flimsy pretext of talking to her about any possible connection between Chase and her cousin when what he really wanted was to find out if her house was haunted?

  “Miss Standridge... Can I call you Laurel?”

  Why was McCord being so polite? “No, you can’t. Just go.”

  Grayson glanced at McCord. “Okay, I’m just going to say this straight out. Josh and I have always believed your garage was the locus of paranormal activity in this area.”

  She sputtered. “What? Are you serious?” What were they? Ghost hunters or something?

  McCord spoke again. “Look, I know most people don’t believe in the paranormal—”

  “No, most people don’t, and I seriously can’t believe that a couple of cops would believe in that stuff.” She didn’t have to fake her incredulity too much. Law enforcement and ghost hunting didn’t seem to go together.

  McCord appeared about to burst out of his skin. “We were wondering if maybe we could spend the night in your garage to do an investigation—”

  “Absolutely not. You need to leave. Right now.”

  Grayson put his hands up. “Okay. Okay. I can see we’re upsetting you. We’ll go.” He nudged McCord’s shoulder, and the two men turned to leave.

  “Lieutenant?”

  Grayson turned back toward her.

  “Next time you come here slinging accusations at me, you better have something solid to back them up, or I’ll be talking to my lawyer about harassment charges.”

  He laughed as he walked the short distance to his car. “You do that.”

  Laurel didn’t like Lt. Grayson. Not at all. His ulterior motives were clear. He wanted to get inside her house to snoop around. Not because he was a cop, but because he was one of those paranormal freaks. Well, he wasn’t getting inside her house without a warrant.

  ****

  “We have a lot of work to do.”

  Laurel’s voice startled Chase. He swung around to face her where she had stopped just inside the doorway. After lunch, he’d said no more to her about going into the apartment with him. It surprised him that she’d climbed the stairs without his urging her to do so. Laurel could be brave when she wanted to be.

  She took one step into the room. “I know you don’t want to live up here, but fixing up this place was something I was thinking of doing anyway, even before...you know...everything.”

  “Oh?”

  For some reason, he got the impression her smile was forced. Had her conversation with Grayson rattled her? Probably. Grayson had that effect on people.

  Chase had forced himself to stay in the apartment while Laurel spoke to the cop because he was certain Grayson wasn’t going to be satisfied until he had managed to talk to them separately. He had decided to get it over with and allow Grayson to get what he wanted, having full confidence in Laurel’s ability to rip the cop a new anal orifice if need be.

  She ran her finger through the dust on the top of a chest of drawers. “It would free up the space in the main house I’ve been living in, so I could rent the room I’ve been using. When we’ve finished the remodeling, I can move in here. It will be nice having a place away from my guests.”

  “If you ever have guests,” he grumbled.

  His negative observation appeared to burst her happy bubble. The cheery smile disappeared, replaced with a scowl.

  “You promised me you would stay until the work was completed. That’s all I ask. Whether or not I open for business as planned isn’t your concern.”

  Her comments inferred that he would eventually move on. The thought of leaving disturbed him. That wasn’t his plan. No matter what happened.

  Was she backtracking? Earlier he thought she’d wanted him to stay on indefinitely. She was acting weird again.

  “Well, thank you for clearing that up. I wasn’t sure what was my concern.”

  “Just do the job I hired you to do,” she snapped, projecting an employer persona he’d never seen her exude before.

  Why was she pushing him back to an impersonal distance again? Had something Grayson said changed her mind about him?

  “That’s what I’ve been doing,” he snapped back at her.

  “I was thinking free room and board in exchange for the labor on this part of the job.”

  The compensation was irrelevant. He thought they were past the pretense. He wasn’t there for the job, and she knew it.

  “You’ll owe me more than that.”

  Her stern demeanor slipped away as if it was melting off her face. “Oh, stop. You’re not very pretty when you pout.”

  He snorted. “Pretty?” Chase would never consider himself pretty under any circumstances. “I’m not pouting.” He didn’t pout. Ever.

  “Are you going to be a grouch all evening?”

  Her mood had changed from cheerful to somber to cheerful again in record time. What was eating at the woman? He couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. Yes, he was going to continue being grouchy as long as she continued to act weird.

  “I might.” He wasn’t ready to give up his mood. It was his mood, and he’d decide when he was done with it. “I’ll have to cut a hole right here.” He stomped the floor with his work boot. “And lower those large pieces of furniture to the garage below.”

  Her eyes widened, almost as if she’d seen a...ghost. “No.”

  “What do you mean no? There’s no other way to remove them. I can’t even figure out how Celeste got them up here. The door is too narrow.”

  “I said no.” Her eyes flashed with fire.

  He stopped to assess her hot refusal. Now, what was that all about?

  “We can’t get them down those stairs. What do you want me to do? Chop them into pieces and throw them out the window? Why are you so stubborn?”

  “I’m not stubborn.” Her jaw set into a hard line.

  “Well, then how are we going to get them out of here? Do you have a better idea?” He was losing his patience. What was wrong with her?

  “There’s no need to get testy.”

  “Testy!” He raised his voice and immediately regretted it when she flinched. “I’m not testy. You’re unreasonable.” The accusation left his mouth before he could put on the brakes.

  “First, I’m stubborn, and then I’m unreasonable.” Her cheeks flushed with apparent a
nger.

  “No. First you were…”

  “I was what?” she fumed.

  “Nothing.” His anger rose to match hers.

  They glared at each other. The intensity of Laurel’s wrath dismayed him. How did the conversation get so out of control so quickly?

  “No. You meant something.”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “So? What if I am?” She shrugged and examined her fingernails.

  No, she wasn’t going to avoid the discussion that easily.

  “So what did Grayson have to say?”

  She glanced up at him. “He thinks I should kick you out.” She appeared to be holding her breath waiting for his response.

  “Really? He said that? That’s not what he told me.”

  “What did he tell you?” Her question held a bite.

  “No. You go first. What did Grayson tell you?”

  She puffed out her cheeks.

  “Laurel…”

  Chase wanted to stop the conversation from heading in a very bad direction, but he couldn’t push any words past his irritation. If he continued, he might say something he didn’t mean.

  The silence was as heavy as a lead fishing weight pulling them to the bottom of a deep cesspool of doubt.

  “You know, I think I could use a walk.”

  “You’re going to walk away just like that?”

  “Yeah, just like that,” he said without expression. If she wasn’t going to talk, there was nothing to listen to.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  She turned her head, but before she shifted her gaze, he detected moisture in the corners of her eyes. Had he made her cry? He hated that. The conversation had been so stilted he wasn’t sure what just happened.

  He was almost to the door when he noticed the window was open again. “That’s strange.”

  Laurel moved to stand by his side. “What’s strange?”

  He pointed at the window. “I closed it twice, and twice it’s opened on its own.”

  Once more, he slammed the window shut. He retrieved a hammer and nails from his workbag and drove nails where the window wouldn’t raise unless he removed them.