Chelsea Lane (Haunted Hearts Series Book 5)

by Denise Moncrief

  The twist? Haskins’s son was a former lieutenant with the Hill County Sheriff’s Department, a man who was now working closely with the Arkansas State Police to infiltrate Haskin’s operation and collect evidence against him. If they took Richards out of the picture, Haskins’s need for a reliable subordinate would become even more urgent. It wouldn’t be long before Haskins would offer Mitchell Grayson a position in his organization that Haskins wouldn’t think his biological son could refuse.

  The undercover plan was still in play.

  Chapter Six

  Chelsea pushed the curtain aside to get a good view of the vehicle coming up the driveway. She tensed when she saw the Hill County Sheriff’s logo on the door and was about to make a run for it when Jordan Clark got out of the passenger side. He stuck his head back into the door a moment and then waved as the patrol unit turned and headed out the way it had come. Only then did she exhale the breath she’d been holding.

  She waited until she heard the stomp of his shoes on the wood porch before she eased the door open and dragged him inside. Slamming the door behind him, she tore into him. “Where have you been?”

  He wiggled out of her grasp. “Hold up, woman. I’ve been busy catching bad guys. Get a grip. You sound like a wife or something.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I’m just tired. I didn’t mean anything by it. Ease up. That’s all I’m saying.”

  She settled onto the arm of the nearest chair. Her intense reaction to seeing the cop car outside had drained her of energy. She wanted to say she was sorry she had jumped him the minute he arrived, but she wasn’t. Not in the least.

  “Did you find them?”

  He dropped onto the worn sofa opposite her. “I think we found them just in time. They’re getting medical treatment.”

  “Where’s Brett?”

  “He stayed with them.”

  “Why?”

  Jordan slumped into the sofa cushions and leaned his head on the back. “They don’t speak English, remember? He didn’t want them to feel like they were being abandoned again. Yeah, I know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Actually, it does. That sounds like my brother. He wouldn’t want them to panic just as they were getting help.”

  She smiled at the memory that the thought prompted. Brett once rescued a baby razorback hog and nursed it back to health. At the time, she’d thought he was crazy for messing with a wild animal.

  “He was always rescuing wounded animals. I know he looks like a big, ole tough guy, but he’s always been that way about things that needed rescuing.”

  Jordan blinked at her, as if digesting everything she said. “Yeah, you’re right. He doesn’t look like he has a sensitive bone in his body.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t say he was sensitive. Unless he’s changed…” She let her disappointment seep up from the depths of her heart. Brett hadn’t come home and she needed him. “We have so much to talk about. I mean…I know he’s wants to know what happened to me.”

  She turned toward the window unable to meet Jordan’s intense stare. Was it late at night or early in the morning? She’d last track of the time. The night outside was darker than dark, almost as dark as the darkness shadowing her heart and her soul. She shivered but kept her gaze on the dirty windowpane.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to tell him everything. I’m not sure I know him anymore. It’s been so long. Things change a person.”

  Jordan cleared his throat and she turned to face him again.

  “Chelsea…do you need to see a doctor?”

  She tilted her head and studied this strange man in front of her. He acted as if he cared.

  “No. I don’t think so. I’m not hurt. All my old injuries have healed.”

  “I can take you to see someone…”

  Finally, she got it. He thought she needed a head doctor. Maybe she did. “I don’t need that kind of help right now. Maybe later. When I slow down and everything hits me. When I need to start living a normal life again. If I can ever live normal again, that’s when I’ll need that kind of help. I think.”

  He stood and towered over her, and for the first time, she was unsure whether she was in danger from him or not. No, she wasn’t. Her sudden fear plummeted from the height it had reached and left her a little dizzy. His features had settled into an expression that she couldn’t interpret. She’d never seen that look on another person. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t a threat.

  “What?” she asked and emitted a nervous little giggle.

  “You know you’re going to be in protective custody until this is all over. Until there’s a trial, you’ll have to go into hiding.”

  Oh, she hadn’t thought of that. It would be almost like being kidnapped again. No freedom. The earlier feeling of anticipation evaporated as if it had never existed. Freedom was still a long way away. Maybe she should have run when she had the chance.

  “I’m sorry, Chelsea. I don’t think it’s wise for you to stay here. This might be the first place someone looks for you once they realize who you are and where you’ve been.” His face softened as if he knew exactly the devastating impact his words would have on her.

  She stood to her full height facing him, wrapping her arms around her middle, a useless effort to protect herself from the unknown, from the attack to what was left of her damaged dignity that might come out of nowhere.

  “So what happens now?”

  “I’m going to stay with you for a while, just until things are settled and we can assign a protection detail. I’m going to take your statement. I need you to start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened. Everything that you can remember. From the moment you were kidnapped to the moment you realized you were free.”

  “I’m not free. Not yet.”

  “I know it doesn’t feel like being free yet.” He pressed his lips together and seemed to consider what he was about to say before he said it. “Will you help us?”

  Interesting. Was he really asking because she had a choice?

  He placed a hand on her shoulder and an electric fire raced through her veins, heating her skin. She raised her eyes to meet his direct gaze. How had she never noticed the color of his eyes? They were such an intense blue. She’d never seen eyes like his.

  Then she understood why she’d never seen such an expression on another human being’s face. She’d never been around anyone who actually cared what happened to her. Not since she was kidnapped. Maybe the emotion on his face was compassion. No wonder it scared her. She wasn’t used to anyone caring.

  At that moment, he was looking at her with such depth of emotion that she wanted to dive right into his eyes and swim until she was exhausted from the effort.

  “What do you want me to do?” The thought of what she’d have to do to help the cops made her insides turn cold despite the warmth emanating from his eyes.

  “Help us put Haskins and his men away by telling me everything you can. Any little thing you tell me might connect the men who’ve held you prisoner to Haskins.”

  She drew in a deep fortifying breath. “If I do this… If I tell you everything I know, can you promise me they’ll all go to jail and never bother me again?”

  “I don’t think I can make that kind of promise, but I can promise I will do everything in my power to protect you from them.”

  His answer fell gently on her fractured psyche. Even as he said the words, she feared there was much more to come before the current crisis settled down to nothing. “If I can’t stay here, where will I go?”

  “The house where you were staying. Show me where it is.”

  What he crazy? They couldn’t stay there. Not with the weird paranormal crap that went on in the house every single night. Not with the ghosts of Kristie and Sharona trying to send her over the abyss into mental oblivion. Those two wanted revenge.

  She stepped back from Jordan and nearly fell over the chair behind her. “Why would you
ask me to do that?”

  “You said there were other women.”

  Telling him about them and how they had died would be the hardest part of her story. Couldn’t she do that somewhere else besides the house on Chelsea Lane?

  “You implied they were already dead.”

  Their faces zoomed across her conscience again.

  “We need to locate them and identify them.” He closed his eyes a moment. Then opened them and stared straight at her, inhaled deeply. “And I admit I have selfish motives. I want to know what happened to Kristie. If she’s my sister… If you were there, I want to know about her last days.”

  Did he know what he was asking? “That won’t be easy for you to hear.”

  A strange new emotion surged within her, and she wondered if this was how it felt to care about someone else. For so long, she’d forced herself to not care about anyone, pressing down any hint of feeling before it became at problem. Caring made losing someone more agonizing. She didn’t want Jordan to hurt the way hearing about his sister would hurt him. Deeply. Painfully.

  “I have to find her, Chelsea. If she’s my sister, then I need to take her home to our parents. They’ve worried themselves sick. At least, once they know for sure, they can…” He seemed to struggle with strong emotion. Grief etched the corners of his eyes and defined the creases of his mouth. His eyes sparkled with renewed emotion.

  She raised her hand and touched his cheek. “Of course. I’ll show you where she is.”

  He swallowed hard, but didn’t remove her hand from his face. “Thanks.”

  The emotion seemed to slide from him like water droplets off a slick surface. He removed her hand, but without force, reluctantly, as if he wouldn’t have minded it remaining on his cheek a few moments longer. “So what are you doing in the house? I thought we left you in a hide out behind the barn?”

  She bit her lower lip. She’d almost gotten by without the interrogation. “We were kids when we hid there. The hole is smaller than I remembered it. Being in tight places makes me nervous. My stomach was getting upset and everything.”

  She pushed her hair behind her ear. It seemed to always fall into her eyes at the wrong time. At the moment, she didn’t want to miss even the slightest change in the expression on his face. For some reason, she wanted to memorize every curve and plane. One day he’d be out of her life. He’d hand her over to someone else.

  He pointed at the shotgun. “Grab your friend and let’s get out of here.” He wrapped his hand around the doorknob.

  If they left the house, the moment would end. Forward motion would mean more changes. Not ready yet to face her uncertain future, she pulled him back by his elbow. “Wait, you should know…”

  “What?” Was that a fearful expression that darkened his eyes?

  “Zach Halsey was here.”

  He glanced at the door. “Is that who busted the lock?”

  She nodded.

  He was right in front of her in a heartbeat. “Are you okay?”

  “I hid in the pantry. He busted in here with Conley… I can’t remember what Conley’s last name is anymore. Zach was drunk and looking for a fight. I’m scared of what will happen if he runs across Brett.”

  “Don’t worry about Brett. He’s with my partner. I don’t think Zach will try anything with Shaw Bennett hanging around. By the time, Brett is on his own again maybe Halsey will be sleeping it off.”

  “He told Conley that his grandfather had been arrested.”

  “That’s an on-going investigation. I can’t discuss it with you.”

  That had been a quick shut down of the subject. She sputtered her reply. “You want me to tell you everything, right?”

  He nodded, curiosity glowing in his eyes.

  “Then you need me to tell you what I know about Sheriff Halsey too.”

  “Yeah, if you have information about Halsey.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then I’m gonna want to know why he was arrested.”

  Jordan narrowed his eyes and then his face cleared of irritation. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I can, and then if what you say has any relevance to his arrest, then we’ll talk about that some more. But right now, I need to get out to the house where you lived.”

  He had used the word need. She sensed his urgency to deal with his past. In a weird sort of way, his past and her past had somehow become tangled together.

  ****

  “Stay behind me.” Jordan pushed open the back door of the house on Chelsea Lane with the toe of his shoe. “If someone is in there, run. Got it?”

  He passed her the keys to Brett’s Ford F-150. She hoped Brett didn’t mind them borrowing his truck. They’d driven up and down the highway and through town several times before he decided no one had tailed them. Brett’s truck was almost out of gas.

  “Go straight to the Fairview police. Tell them you want to report a murder, and that you’ll talk to no one except Shaw Bennett with the State Police. Can you do that without blinking?”

  “But how do you know there’s been a murder?” She paused. “I mean a new murder.”

  His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I don’t. But they’ll cooperate if you insist there has been.”

  Chelsea nodded. The guy was full of surprises.

  “Isn’t it illegal to make a false report?”

  “It’s not a false report if you don’t officially file one. So don’t talk to the Fairview cops just insist on talking to Bennett. Understand?”

  She grabbed the keys and stuffed them in her jeans pocket. He entered the house doing the cop crouch while shifting his gun this way and that. She stifled a giggle. The man was serious. From the dead silence, she could tell the place was empty. He didn’t need to indulge in theatrics. Was he trying to play hero or something? She could have told him that Jake wouldn’t come back. If Jake knew that his men had lost the women, then Jake was in hiding somewhere. Might even have taken the highway north into Missouri.

  When Jordan had finished going through the entire house, he sheathed his weapon and smiled at her. “All clear.”

  He’d stopped at a fast food place just as the sun was rising over the hills to the east of Fairview and ordered them a couple of breakfast burritos and some coffee. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of real food. It had been hours since she’d eaten the last piece of toast in the house.

  “You’re stomach’s making a lot of noise. You need to eat. I’ll go get the food out of the truck.”

  She followed him.

  He paused in the open doorway. “I can get it by myself. It’s daylight now. Maybe you should stay out of sight.”

  She shuddered once and shook her head. “I’m not staying in here by myself.”

  “Why not?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “This place is haunted.”

  Jordan laughed. “I don’t think so. If it was, I would have felt it the minute I walked in the door.”

  “I’ve seen them.”

  His laughter stopped.

  “I don’t feel them now. The place feels pretty dead.”

  As soon as the word dead left her mouth, he flinched. What was with him? He’d just talked about reporting a non-existent murder as if it was nothing. But then, he thought his sister was buried in the house. On the brink of finding her body, death was probably not a casual subject for him.

  “I’m sorry. That was probably a bad word to use right now.” She’d actually been wondering how he was going to stomach eating in the house when his sister was possibly buried in the basement beneath them.

  He smiled, but the expression was weak and lacking in any warmth. “It’s all right. You don’t have to treat me gentle.” He stepped out onto the back porch. “Okay, then. Come with me, but stay in the shadows.”

  “I will. I’m good at that.”

  In a few more minutes, he’d dropped the bag on the kitchen table, and they had sat down to eat. “We shouldn’t be eating in here.” Jordan lifted the first of his two burritos to his mouth and
was about to bite when his cellphone rang. The sudden noise caused the muscles in Chelsea’s stomach to tense.

  He glanced at the display and the color drained from his face. With a swift motion, he flipped the phone over, ignoring the obnoxious ringtone. The ringing ceased and Chelsea allowed her held breath to release slowly.

  “Why not?”

  “Huh? Oh, because we might contaminate evidence.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  Before he could answer, the phone began its summons once again, but he didn’t look at it.

  “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

  His burrito plopped onto the waxed paper, and he grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands. It continued to ring. He closed his eyes and placed his hands on his hips, inhaling each breath with effort. Obvious distress distorted his otherwise handsome features. The phone vibrated on the tabletop, jumping with the sound it made.

  “Jordan, whoever that is won’t give up. You should answer it.”

  He flipped the phone back over so she could read the display. When she saw the name, she gasped and shoved her chair back from the table. “Does someone have her phone?”

  “No, it’s in evidence somewhere in Little Rock, I think.” He began to shake.

  She rose from her chair and circled the table to stand next to him, only hesitating a fraction of a second before she placed her hand on his shoulder. “You need to answer it. She could be trying to tell you something. I’m right here with you.”

  He lifted the phone, punched the answer button, and held it to his ear. If possible his face went an even paler shade of pale. He punched end and set the phone on the table next to his untouched coffee.

  Their eyes locked. The seconds of the clock ticked by.

  “Was it her?” Chelsea croaked her question through a tight throat.

  He nodded. When he finally spoke, his voice had lost every bit of confidence it had ever had. “It was her voice.”