Abbott’s nonchalant feline expression told her she was still an idiot, but whatever.
The doorbell rang, sending her heart into her mouth and the dogs into a wild barking frenzy. She moved to the window, peeked out, and didn’t see a car in the driveway.
Ding dong.
The boys were all over the place barking now.
“Alright. I’m coming.”
She glanced out the peephole and saw no one standing on the doorstep.
Ding dong. Ding dong.
She was still looking through the peephole. No. One. Was. There.
Slowly backing away from the door, Spider took a deep breath. Stay calm. It probably wants to communicate with you. Don’t panic.
“Harold, is that you?” Her voice was loud in the quiet space.
The dogs stopped barking and looked at her. Charlie immediately sat as though awaiting a command, and Costello shuffled closer before sitting on her feet. It was the cat’s reaction that really caught her attention. Abbott arched his back and growled before slowly backing off the sofa and running toward another room.
Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good.
“I found the ring.” She held the item high in the air. “Did you want us to find the ring?”
Silence.
Ding dong.
Spider nearly wet her pants at the sound of the doorbell again. Rushing to the door, she flung it open, yelling, “If you want to communicate with me, stop pressing the darn doorbell!”
The man who stood on the porch blinked at her. “I wasn’t expecting that reaction, but okay. I’ll go with it.”
Awkward.
Before she could blink, Charlie shot through the door, but the stranger grabbed his collar before he could get far. “Whoa. He likes to do that, doesn’t he?”
She looked him up and down, not recognizing him from Adam. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, had short sandy hair, young, maybe her age, maybe a little older. Cute. Definitely cute.
“Who are you?”
“Connor Manning. Alexandra asked me to stop by and see if I could help with your—” He glanced around and pushed past her into the room. “—little problem.”
Chapter 7
Slipping the ring into her pocket, Spider deactivated the alarm before it went off. She was so taken aback, she couldn’t find the willpower to do anything after that but stand in the doorway and gape. The stranger moved around the living room, eyeing the place as if he was taking stock of all the items he could steal later.
Charlie pranced around him in greeting until the guy reached down and petted him. Nice going, watchdog. Not to be outdone, Costello waddled over to the man, jumped up and began humping his leg. Well, at least that was slightly better than offering a tail-wag to someone you didn’t know.
“Dude, you’re humping me.” The guy wagged his finger and sent a disapproving look at Costello. “Not cool.” With a toothy grin, Costello sank back on his haunches and stared up at the man.
“Um, he does that.” Keeping a safe distance, Spider crossed her arms and frowned at the two dogs, then at the man. “Who are you again?”
“Connor.”
“A friend of Alexandra’s?” Alexandra had mentioned she’d be sending someone over later to help. Spider had expected later to mean later. “Let me give her a call real quick. No offense, but – well, no offense.”
She ducked into the kitchen and called the other woman, who quickly reassured her Connor Manning could help her figure out this ghost problem.
She looked across at him sitting bent over on the sofa, petting Costello, and wondered how Alexandra had met the guy. Some kind of tattoo covered his neck, and he was dressed head to toe in black.
“He looks kind of…” She lowered her voice. “…dangerous.”
Alexandra’s soft laugh carried down the line. “Trust me. He’s good at what he does. You’re totally safe with him. Promise. Remember the guy who helped Dylan and Zach save my life? This is him.”
“Really?” Spider peeked over her shoulder to get a better look at the man. She’d heard all about the – “scrawny” if you believed Dylan and “kickass” if you believed Alexandra – demon hunter who’d rescued Alexandra from possession last year. As in, full-on demonic possession. “This is that guy?”
“Yep.”
Ending the call, Spider took a deep breath and hurried to greet him properly. She stuck out her hand. “Sorry about that. I’m Spider.”
His lopsided smile softened his features tremendously. As he stood and accepted her hand, his grip was strong and warm. “I know.” Something akin to disappointment flittered across his features as he looked her up and down.
“Right. Cause you’re psychic.” She put her hands on her hips and returned his full-body appraisal. What had he been expecting when he met her? A nerdy little desk-jockey? A spiky-haired guy? Some The-Girl-With-a-Dragon-Tattoo type? Yeah, she got those a lot.
His eyes sparked to life with amusement. “Alexandra told me Spider was a pretty redhead and not to be fooled by the name. You’re the only pretty redhead here, aren’tcha?”
“Oh.” That right there just earned him brownie points. She might end up liking this guy. “Well, thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“I was in town to see Alexandra. Didn’t have anything better to do.” He looked around the room, narrowed his eyes at something behind her, and muttered, “Hmm.”
She turned and saw Abbott sauntering into the room. The cat stopped and sat on his haunches right next to her feet. With a bored expression, he watched their guest from across the room.
“That cat’s not very nice.”
“Excuse me?” Spider scooped Abbott up and gave him a good petting. “He’s a sweetheart.” Sometimes.
“He thinks you’re an idiot for letting me in. He thinks I’m a thug. Oh wait. Scratch that. He thinks we’re both idiots.”
Yep, that sounded about right.
She sat the squirming cat down again. “Not that I intend to sound ungrateful or anything, but I thought Alexandra said you could, you know, see dead people, not talk to animals.” Neat gift and all, but it probably wouldn’t do her or Noah much good right now.
“Oh, don’t worry. I can see dead people. In fact, there was one here when I came in, but I have no idea where she went.”
Her heart did a lap around her chest at the confirmation. Holy mackerel. She’d been right. The ghosts were real.
“She?” Spider had felt certain the ghost pestering them was Carpenter’s great uncle. Maybe it was the great aunt instead. “Okay, this might sound crazy, but did she look anything like me?”
Connor’s brow furrowed. “Not that I noticed. Why?”
She brought him up to speed on everything that had happened so far. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I suspect it has something to do with this ring.” She dug it out of her pocket.
His frown had darkened the more she spoke. “Let me get this straight. You were shoved into a closet – physically shoved, with force?”
“That’s what I said.”
“And this neighbour—” He gestured toward the door. “You said he’s been having trouble sleeping and looks like he’s nursing a hangover every day?”
“I mean, I don’t think he’s actually nursing a hangover every day.” Maybe she should start filtering her thoughts before she spoke.
“This is worse than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
He skimmed his gaze over her figure again. “How much do you know about ghosts?”
She shrugged. “Just that they can be really, really scary in a not-so-fun way.”
“Oh, boy.” Rubbing a hand over his face, he shook his head. “Okay. Here’s the abridged version. Ghosts, especially young ghosts, shouldn’t have the ability to move things or harm people. The longer dead people stay in this realm, the stronger they become, and that’s not usually a good thing.”
“It’s not?”
“It’s not natural for them to be
here, and the longer they’re here, the more warped they become until they—” His jaw muscles clenched as he fell silent.
“Until they what? Geez Louise, man, you can’t leave me hanging on that!”
“They turn into demons, and demons are nasty little things you don’t ever want to encounter. Trust me.”
“Don’t worry. You had me at demon.” A chill sent an uncomfortable tickle dancing along her arms. She rubbed at them and tried to comprehend exactly what he was implying. “You think there’s a demon in Noah’s house?”
He shook his head. “I think there’s at least one ghost well on his or her way to becoming one. Come on.” Smiling again, he rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go talk to this ghost of his, shall we?”
***
Noah finished typing the brief email and sat back to read it before hitting send.
Collins Security Firm is legit. Can’t find any evidence to the contrary. I’m done here. Expect a report in the mail in a week.
His cursor hovered over the SEND button for so long, he finally swore and exited out of the program without sending anything. Rubbing at the sand gathered in his eyes, he marched upstairs. Smart thing would be to send the email and get the hell out of here. Then again, he was being paid a lot of money to do a thorough investigation, and out of the hundred or so cases he’d worked, he could count on one hand the number that had ended with a “Can’t Prove Fraud” stamp on it. He’d been distracted, unfocused, and too damn tired to give this case his usual attention. As he entered the bathroom, he had to admit he wasn’t ready to call it quits. Calling it quits meant saying goodbye to Emma, and that wasn’t something he was prepared to do yet.
Hell if he knew why.
Woosh. Woosh. Woosh.
The rushing of blood in his ears, or maybe it was his heartbeat, accompanied an intense ache behind his left eye. Noah splashed water on his face and looked in the mirror. Grimacing, he hardly recognized himself anymore. He felt too damn bad at the moment to care, so he wiped the moisture from his chin with a cloth and tossed the rag on the floor. Sleep. If he could just get a few hours of consecutive sleep—
A crescendo of knocks downstairs caused the pain in his head to intensify with each bang on wood, even as his stomach tightened and rolled.
The idea that it might be Emma both excited and unnerved him. Turning her away had been hard. Much harder than it should have been. Hurrying to discover whether the source of the noise was a visitor or something else, Noah didn’t even bother to look out the peephole to see who was on his doorstep.
Pulling open the door, he came up short at the unfamiliar man standing on the other side. Dressed head to toe in black, some kind of tattoo on his neck, the stranger looked like he’d wandered in from the gang-infested streets of Central Atlanta.
“Can I help you?”
“Noah, right?” The younger man nodded in greeting. “Wassup?”
The stranger jostled forward, and Emma’s face peeked out from around the guy’s left side. “Hey Noah. So remember the psychic my friend was sending over to help us out? Yeah, well, this is him. Connor, this is Noah. Noah, Connor.”
“Don’t worry, man.” Connor slapped him on the back of the shoulder as he pushed his way inside. “I’m here to help.”
Emma was more cautious about entering, biting her lip as she slowly followed him across the threshold. “I didn’t know he would be able to come today, but that’s good, right?”
Noah frowned, looking between his two guests.
Tugging her closer, he demanded, “How well do you know this guy?”
“Ow!” She pulled her arm away from his grip. Damn. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. “I don’t, but Alexandra trusts him and that’s good enough for me.” She rubbed her arm and glared at him. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you want help?”
More than she knew.
“I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced toward the man now standing in front of the stairs, looking up. “Do you really think he can help?”
“No idea, but it’s the best plan I have right now. Why not give him a chance?”
Because I don’t believe this guy can talk to ghosts. Because ghosts aren’t real. Because I didn’t like how close you were standing to him.
Even as the thoughts raced through his mind, he recognized how weak his resolve was becoming on the former. The things he’d seen, the events he’d recorded. How could he explain them?
His behaviour was starting to scare him too. His unnatural attachment to this woman after only a few days was … odd.
“Okay.” He waved her into the foyer. “What do you need me to do?”
Connor turned and shook his head. “Nothing. I can already see what your problem is.”
“What?” Emma demanded before he had a chance. “Demon or ghost?”
“Ghosts. As in multiple.”
“Really?” Her face lit up with excitement. “How many?”
“Two, for certain. More, I think. I think at least one more is hiding from me.”
“Why would it be hiding from you?” Noah asked skeptically.
“Good question.” Connor moved into the living room, glancing around. “Usually when dead people realize I can see them, they swarm me. You’ve got one who’s a little shy for some reason.”
“How do you know there’s another one?” Emma rushed to get in front of Connor, demanding his attention. Noah had to resist the urge to yank her away. “What about the other two?”
Connor nodded toward the chair in the corner. “There’s a lady sitting over there, and damn, she looks a lot like you. Now I know why you asked.” His eyes narrowed as he glanced between Emma and the chair. “There’s a guy in my face, demanding I leave and take all of you with me. He doesn’t like us being here.” He frowned and turned away from her. “This is his house, he’s saying. He doesn’t want anyone here but family.”
“Oh my gosh. That’s the Carpenters!” Emma covered her mouth and glanced at Noah. “I knew it!”
Noah couldn’t help but wonder how much she’d told the supposed psychic before bringing him over here. “Are they giving you their names?”
Connor stared at the chair and shrugged. “Funny thing about ghosts. They don’t place importance on the names they had when they were alive. I’m not even sure they remember them. Some do. Most don’t.”
Noah struggled to keep the sarcasm out of his smile. “How convenient.”
Spearing him with a look that could freeze hell, the other man met his gaze. “Spider, would you mind giving me and Noah some privacy?” He glanced at her and his face softened again. “Please?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Why?”
“Because I need privacy to do what needs to be done.”
Pursing her lips in disappointment, she crossed her arms, hesitated, and looked at Noah for encouragement. He nodded. He wanted her as far away from this clown as possible. He couldn’t stand the way the guy kept looking at her. “It’s okay.”
She reached into her pocket, looked at her phone, and murmured, “I do need to check in with Hannah.” Heaving a sigh, she moved over to where he leaned against the arched doorway to the room. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes, twenty tops, then I’m coming back over here.”
“Sounds great. Thank you, Spider.” Connor waved her off before turning around again and inspecting the room.
Once the outside door had closed behind her, Noah pushed away from the doorjamb. “She’s gone. Why don’t we cut the BS and get real for a few minutes?”
“Good plan.” When Connor turned around, all pretense of his friendly demeanour was gone. “So, Noah – if that’s really your name – why don’t you explain to me why you’ve been spying on that sweet young lady who just left. Taking pictures. Watching her house. Is that real enough for you?”
His unexpected words had the impact of a punch to the gut, and Noah almost stumbled backward in a rush of dizziness. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Connor stepped close, eye-to-eye. “The lady in that chair over there has grown very fond of Spider because of their resemblance, kind of thinks of her as the daughter she was never able to have, and she’s telling me all sorts of interesting things about you. Keeps showing me pictures, pinned up somewhere in this house, of my friend Alexandra, and I’m pretty sure the guy in the photos is Zachary Collins. Care to explain that?”
Noah struggled to calm his breathing. How the hell had this quack known any of that? Had he left the door to his office open? He glanced over his shoulder to verify. No, he hadn’t.
“Because I’m psychic, you moron.” Connor turned away, putting some space between them. “Yeah, I can read your thoughts too. Convinced I’m the real deal yet?”
“No. That’s not possible.”
“I can keep at this all day if you want. Lucky for you, I’m good. Good enough to sense you’re not some psycho stalker Spider needs protecting from. Otherwise, you’d be flat on your ass and the cops would be on their way.”
Noah swallowed, struggling to regain his equilibrium. “I think you should leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Connor shook his head and grimaced, holding his hand out to his side. “Yeah, and I’ll deal with you later. Get out of my face.”
Noah got the feeling Connor wasn’t talking to him anymore. Feeling disoriented, he reached for the chair beside him and caught himself before sinking down into it. Supposedly, there was a ghost already sitting there. A woman.
Hell. Was he buying this?
He moved instead to the sofa, sank back into the lumpy cushions and felt himself hyperventilating. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. Fire spread through his lungs.
Spinning round to look at him, Connor’s face paled. “Whoa.” He rushed forward, pushing Noah’s shoulders toward his knees. “Take deep breaths. Stay calm, man. Close your eyes and try to relax.”
Some of the tension seeped out of his shoulder where Connor’s hand pressed against it. Slowly, he felt the dizziness pass. The tightness in his chest released.
“Ease back now,” Connor told him, guiding him into a sitting position. Skimming his face for … something, Connor took a deep breath and then backhanded his chest. “Good job. Yeah, this is worse than I thought.”
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