Spirited Away

by Angela Campbell

  He sank back against the pillows and blinked up at her through half-closed eyes. “I always need my phone.” The words were slightly slurred.

  “So what’s the beef with your dad?”

  “Complicated.” The word escaped his lips on a deep breath. His eyelids had sunk shut.

  “Noah?”

  Snoring softly, his head rolled to the side, away from her. He was out again. And they’d been having such a nice conversation too, up until the last bit.

  She needed to go walk the boys, make sure her computer script was still running and send an email to the office with her report. Instead, she cozied up to his side and pretended they did this often. It had been a long time since she’d been so close to a man. When he didn’t push her away, she lowered her head to his chest and listened to his heartbeat, thumping steadily and strong beneath her ear.

  “Noah?” she whispered.

  A slight rumble beneath her ear was her only response.

  Pushing up on her elbow, she skimmed his features. Still asleep. She liked looking at him while he slept. Against her better judgment, she reached and traced the area where his worry lines usually showed. They were gone now, helping him look his age. When he didn’t react to her touch, she drew a line from his cheekbone to his lovely sculpted mouth, her fingertips barely skimming his skin. So warm. Rough. Tiny pricks grazed her hand, verifying he was in desperate need of a shave. A sexy image of slathering him in shaving cream and giving him one stirred something naughty inside her.

  “Noah?”

  He didn’t budge, nor did she expect him to.

  Leaning over, she gently pressed her lips to his, lingering longer than was probably decent. Her heart was thumping like a jackhammer. What was it about this man that made him so irresistible to her? She’d made a vow after Paul not to get emotionally involved with anyone again until she was ready. Was she ready? She didn’t think so. Surely this was only a classic textbook case of lust. Pulling away, she made sure he was covered before slipping out of the room. She didn’t trust herself to stay. Her fingers traced the contours of her own mouth. Have mercy. Had she actually kissed him? Heat engulfed her face. Thank goodness he was asleep!

  She hurried into the living room and checked the progress on her work. Satisfied the computer was still doing as needed, she glanced at the clock. It was late. Almost midnight.

  The robotic voice of her ringtone announcing “You have a call. Answer it now or prepare to be terminated!” scared the bejesus out of her. Squealing, she grabbed her chest and stared wide-eyed at the screen. An unknown number flashed across the caller ID.

  Fumbling, she answered, “Hello?”

  “Get over here. Now.”

  “Connor?”

  When she heard nothing but silence, she looked and saw the call had ended. What the devil was that about?

  Grabbing Noah’s keys, she whistled for the dogs and put their leashes on. It was freaking midnight, and she wasn’t going into that house alone.

  The boys did their business, and she pulled them toward Noah’s place with more than a little trepidation weighing down her limbs. Neither one put up much of a fight when she dragged them onto the front porch, opened the front door and went inside. Hopefully, that was a good sign whatever Connor had been doing had worked.

  “Connor?” she called.

  “In here.”

  She followed his voice to the main room downstairs, the clicking of Charlie and Costello’s toenails on the hardwood floor echoing eerily throughout the quiet house. He stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, all brooding and dark.

  “Hey. Where’s the fire?” she asked.

  “What have you been doing?” He spoke slowly, and his voice held a hint of accusation in it that confused her.

  Oh dear. He was psychic. Had he seen her practically molesting Noah, kissing him? How mortifying. She let go of the dogs’ leashes, hoping they’d divert his attention.

  Costello, you have my permission to hump him. Go, boy. Go!

  Costello turned and shambled in the opposite direction, sniffing the carpet as if following an invisible trail. Unreliable mutt.

  She glanced up and saw that Connor was still watching her, one side of his mouth twitching just enough to be noticed.

  “Me? What have I been doing?” She brushed her hair behind her ear. “Taking care of Noah. Stuff for work. Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “What have you been doing, mister?”

  “So you didn’t do a search for my name online, and you didn’t try to hack a certain website an hour ago? You sure that wasn’t you?”

  Oh. That.

  She shifted on her feet, glancing around. “I didn’t find anything.”

  And she hadn’t. Not one single hit on his name that could have possibly matched this guy, not even in the database they employed for the agency. No driver’s license. Nothing.

  Suspecting Connor Manning wasn’t his real name, she’d remembered the tattoo on his neck. Resembling a boomerang, it was more angular, like the pointer on an arrow. She’d drawn it into her phone and sent it through an image search. Browsing the results, she’d realized it was a rune, specifically, the rune Kenaz. Searching Kenaz tattoos had led her to a bunch of hits on something called the Bellator de Lux. Best she could tell, it was some kind of cult or secret society. Some claimed it was sanctioned by the Vatican. Others thought it was a shadow agency of the U.S. government. Everyone agreed its members showed up when something bad was going down. Terrorist attacks. Mass shootings. Hauntings. You name it. She had traced the cyber footsteps of one particular, frequent commenter to the portal for a members-only website, but no matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t gotten past its second firewall.

  Shaking his head, Connor pushed away from the wall and moved toward her. “Do you realize you’re the first person to ever get past the first firewall? It only took you nine minutes.”

  “Sure, but—” She jerked her gaze back to his. “How do you know that? How do you know any of that?”

  “Spider, you need to drop it. I mean it.”

  Well, now. He didn’t know her very well. “What’s the Bellator de Lux?”

  “I said drop it.”

  “You’re a member, aren’t you?” She took a step toward him. “I’ve done some reading on psychics and psychic abilities, and it seems really unusual that you can do everything you claim you can do. You’re part of some kind of weird government experiment, aren’t you?”

  He turned away, reaching down to pet Charlie, who’d come trotting back into the room after inspecting whatever he’d been inspecting. To the dog, he said, “Your handler is a stubborn one, isn’t she? Huh, boy?”

  Charlie barked and leapt up against his leg.

  Connor chuckled and rubbed the dog’s ears. “He says yes, which makes it all the more fun to play tricks on you. Something about leading you in a chase around the neighbourhood?”

  She was going to kill that dog. “Lies. All lies. Stop changing the subject.”

  Connor’s chest heaved on a deep sigh. His gaze searched her features, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Why couldn’t you have been her?”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head and turned away. “Don’t you want to know what I’ve been doing tonight?”

  She crossed her arms. “Yes. I believe that was my first question, one of many, thank you very much.”

  “Helping Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter cross over. They’re gone now.”

  “Really? That’s great!”

  “Remember the ring you found? The guy was building this house before he even proposed to his wife. Somewhere in the process, he lost her ring. Never was able to find it. That ring had belonged to his mother, so it had great sentimental value to him. That’s the whole reason he didn’t cross over when he died. Crazy, huh?”

  “Was that what they wanted from us? For us to find the ring?”

  “Yes, and for it to stay in their family. How exactly did you find it?”

  She shrugged. “After we
were pushed in the closet, I assumed there was some reason they wanted us in there. Guess you could say I was following a hunch.”

  “Mrs. Carpenter said she guided you to it. She has no idea why you look so much like her either. Personally, I think there’s some kind of family connection here. Maybe on your father’s side of the family. You were meant to find that ring, Spider. I’d check into it.”

  “Really?” She would add researching it to her to-do list. “What about the other ghost? Did you help her cross over, too?”

  “No sign of her.” He moved to the sofa and picked up his jacket. “I suspect she’s been with you and Noah tonight. As much as I’d like to stay until she shows herself to me, I’ve got a situation to deal with, thanks to you.”

  “What? No. You can’t leave.” But he already was, striding toward the door as if he hadn’t heard her. Hurrying after him, she grabbed his bicep and stopped him. “What if this other one is really … dangerous?”

  “You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.”

  “But—”

  “Look. Figure out what she wants, who she is. Then give me a call. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “How are we supposed to do that? When will you be back?”

  “Listen to her. She’s probably been communicating with Noah for a while. Maybe you too. Ask him if he’s been having any strange dreams. That’s a great place to start.”

  “But—” He turned and walked away. “Connor!”

  He showed her the back of his hand in dismissal as he walked across Noah’s lawn toward the black Dodge Charger sitting at the curb.

  Doggone it! She stomped her foot and growled out her frustration before turning around. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized he’d left her alone in the house. A haunted house. Possibly former haunted house, but still.

  You should get Noah’s phone while you’re here. How hard can that be?

  Looking toward the stairs, she wasn’t sure she could go up to his bedroom. That’s probably where he left his phone. Oh well. Not happening. She turned and realized she was standing beside a closed room. Hadn’t Noah said it was his office? Made sense that his phone might be in there.

  Spider pushed open the door and searched for the light switch with her hand. Brilliant light flooded the room a second later. Blinking, she glanced around and stilled.

  A picture of Zach hung on a corkboard. Her boss was climbing into his car.

  “What the frack?”

  The picture drew her closer to the board, which was actually covered in dozens of pictures. Of Zach. Of Alexandra. Of her.

  She reached for the printout of her standing in front of Noah’s house. She remembered this – the night she’d seen the woman in his window.

  “That rat!”

  She hurriedly flipped through all the papers on his desk, finding papers with every member of the firm’s information. Background checks. A business card peeked out from a dossier of Zach.

  Noah West. Insurance Claims Investigator.

  Nausea nosedived like a bomb into her gut, and she stumbled backward, falling into the desk chair, grasping her stomach and trying to squelch back the sensation. How could he do this to her? She’d trusted him. She’d more than trusted him.

  She must have hit his computer keyboard when she stumbled because the monitor suddenly blinked on. Staring blankly at the screen, she took a deep breath.

  Okay.

  There was no denying the obvious. Noah West was using her.

  What case could he be investigating? Her mind searched for answers, but she was too scatter-brained.

  Speaking of scattered, his desktop was littered with documents just sitting there for anyone to open. Scooting forward, she took the keyboard.

  Noah wanted to play games?

  Game on.

  Chapter 9

  The woman standing at the curb had long, dark hair and wore a white shirt underneath a denim jacket.

  Something nibbled at Noah’s consciousness about that description, but his mind couldn’t connect it with anything. His body felt light, too light, and the scene unfolding around him didn’t seem to involve him. The slow swish-swish of windshield wipers was loud inside the car.

  He watched from the back seat as the pretty dark-haired woman slid into the passenger seat, reaching to pull the heavy door closed. A dark-haired man sat at the wheel.

  “Thanks for the ride. I was afraid I was going to get drenched out there.”

  “Glad to help. Where are you headed?” The driver’s voice was deep, raspy.

  “Buckhead Village.”

  “Waitressing at Wally’s tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ah, Kate, you got to stop working so much. Have some fun. You’re too young to be working two jobs and going to school.”

  Pushing her hair behind one ear with a trembling hand, the young woman snuck a glance at the man beside her, her nose wrinkling. “No choice.” She glanced over her shoulder and seemed not to see Noah sitting there. A couple of empty beer cans littered the back seat beside him. “Have you been drinking, J.D.?”

  “Maybe had a few.”

  Familiar landmarks were whizzing past, only they looked different somehow. Strange.

  “Um, this isn’t the way to Buckhead Village,” the young woman said, sitting forward and glancing both directions in front of her.

  The man said nothing as he directed the car left.

  “I can get out here and walk the rest of the way.” Face pale, eyes widening, Kate reached for the door handle the same second a click and thump reverberated around the car.

  Noah jolted awake, blinking the fog and haze from his mind as he realized he’d been dreaming again. He rubbed at his chest. His heart was thumping like a sonofabitch. Glancing around, it took a few seconds to recognize his surroundings.

  Zachary Collins’ house.

  He sat and massaged his forehead. There was no ache there anymore. No dizziness. No more sand in his eyes. He felt … normal. Actually, better than normal. Pushing off the bed, he noticed daylight was streaming through the curtains. How long had he been out? His clothes sat neatly piled in the chair beside the window, his phone and a note on top.

  Grabbed these from your place. Washed your others. They’re in the bag. Feel free to shower. – S

  She’d been in his house.

  Wandering toward the bathroom he distantly remembered using, he glanced down the hall. Where was Emma? The two dogs came running at him, so he bent and petted them both, even the chubby blond one who hadn’t seemed to like him before.

  Satisfied by the quick stroke, the animals turned and went trotting back the way they came. The clacking of computer keys echoed down the hall. His chest lifted and fell on a sigh of relief. For a second, he’d been worried she’d found him out, left another note somewhere telling him to get the hell out of her life.

  Shaking his head, he ducked into the bathroom and took care of necessities.

  When he emerged, his head felt clearer than it had in weeks.

  “Emma?”

  He followed the sound of her hammering the keyboard and then paused at the sight of her sitting on the sofa, socked feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, computer in her lap.

  Hadn’t Connor said his obsession with her would go away after … whatever the hell he’d done to him?

  Not quite. A zing of happiness at the sight of her almost stole his damn breath. It was an odd and unfamiliar feeling, one he’d never felt before, not toward any woman.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey back.” She didn’t look up from her typing.

  The mouth-watering aroma of bacon lured him to notice a plate of food sitting on the counter.

  “Figured you might be hungry.” She finally stopped typing long enough to gesture toward the kitchen. “Bacon and scrambled eggs are about the best I’m capable of. Eat at your own risk.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled out a chair and sat at the breakfast bar, facing her. He was star
ving. “What are you working on?”

  “Work.”

  Pushing a piece of bacon into his mouth, he took two bites and had to fight the urge to spit it out again. Freaking thing was spicy hot. What had she done? Sprinkled chili pepper all over it or something? He liked pepper but … damn.

  “Something wrong?” She peeked over the laptop.

  “No.” He swallowed the meat and chased it with a gulp of water from the glass sitting beside the plate. Bitter, sour foulness assaulted the tip of his tongue.

  Eyes watering, he spit the vile liquid back into the cup.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This … isn’t water.” His mouth was really on fire now. He rushed over to the faucet, leaned down, and began lapping up the heavenly liquid to chase the revolting taste from his mouth.

  “What do you mean it’s not water? I grabbed a water bottle from the pantry.”

  Switching the faucet off, he straightened and wiped the moisture from his chin. “Vinegar.” He barely managed to get the word out. He grabbed a hand towel and began wiping up the mess he’d made.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh no! I must have mistaken a bottle of the white kind for water. Shoot. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even read the label before I poured it.”

  Clearing his throat, he pushed his chair under the counter. Funny thing was, she didn’t sound sorry. Her tone was more on the side of sarcastic. “Honest mistake. Don’t worry about it.” Patting his stomach, he pushed the plate away. No telling what else she’d done to sabotage it. “You know, I’m not all that hungry.”

  His stomach betrayed the words by rumbling a long, loud growl.

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged and went back to typing.

  Pushing a hand through his hair, he glanced down at the two dogs that’d been shadowing his every move. Had he said something in his sleep? Maybe Connor had ratted him out. Either way, something had pissed her off.

  Grabbing his bag of clothes, he moved toward the door. “I think I’m going to head back to my place, check on things.”

  “You do that.”

  He took a few steps, stopped. “Is your friend still over there?”