Chelsea Lane (Haunted Hearts Series Book 5)

by Denise Moncrief

He shrugged. “Can’t answer for that. Maybe she thought it best to pretend. I would.” He didn’t dare mention his intention to go to Mexico to find Amalia once things settled down for his sister in Arkansas.

  Chelsea sighed and sniffed as if she was about to cry. Jordan reached over and took her hand. The familiarity between the two of them surprised him. The man had denied anything personal between them.

  “Get up. We need to talk.” Brett broke their hand-to-hand connection and stepped back.

  Jordan shifted his eyes toward Chelsea and then stood, stretching to his full height, which was a few inches shorter than Brett. “What’s up?”

  “Inside.”

  Chelsea jumped to her feet and stood next to Jordan. “Why are you acting like this, Brett?”

  He didn’t hesitate to get in the man’s face, pushing his sister back and getting between them. “You told me nothing was going on between the two of you.”

  Jordan held his ground. “When you asked me that, I didn’t think there was, but things have changed.”

  “She doesn’t know you.”

  “Does she know you?” The edge in his question suggested Brett better back off.

  “I’m her brother.” Brett responded with a tone that implied he had no intention of retreating.

  “It’s been five years.” Jordan ground out his reply.

  Chelsea got between the two men, bracing the palms of her hands on their chests before they got too close to pounding each other. “Stop it. I’m a grown woman, and now that I have the choice, I’ll be with whoever I want.” She turned fierce eyes on Jordan. “Brett’s trying to protect me. Now that he can. Try to understand.” She shot mean glares first at one and then the other of them. “It would make me feel better if I thought you two were on the same side. If the two of you are throwing punches at each other, it makes we wonder if I can trust either of you.”

  Jordan stepped back, and Brett retreated an equal distance. Chelsea lowered her arms.

  “He isn’t making me do anything I don’t want to do. When this is over, I want a fresh start, and I don’t think I’m going to get it in Fairview, Arkansas. I’m not stupid. I know I can never be Cherish Duncan again. There’s more than one person that would rather Cherish Duncan didn’t exist any longer. Being Cherish would be more dangerous than being Chelsea. I’m gonna leave here. Now that he’s found his sister, Jordan wants to move back to Louisiana…and I’m going with him.”

  That seemed to be news to Jordan.

  “But Cherish…I mean Chelsea…I just found you again.” Brett’s eyes tossed fiery anger darts at the other man. “Surely you can understand why I wouldn’t want her to leave. I need time to get to know my sister again.”

  Chelsea grabbed his hand. “Then come with us.”

  Jordan grunted as if he didn’t care too much for that idea.

  “I get the idea I’d be in the way.”

  “I wouldn’t dare keep you from your sister.” Jordan’s stiff answer seemed sincere, as if Brett had insulted him by suggesting otherwise.

  Brett allowed his ire to diminish. After all, Jordan knew what it was like to lose a sister. In fact, he’d just found out for certain that he had lost his. Jordan was probably experiencing fresh grief. That kind of thing could cause a man to get tangled up in his thinking. He’d give Jordan the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the guy wasn’t trying to play his sister. But if he was…

  “So tell me what happened at the house on Chelsea Lane today.”

  The two of them stared at each other, neither of them jumping to answer his question.

  “Something must have happened because both of you just went white as a ghost.”

  Jordan winced at Brett’s choice of words.

  This time, Chelsea took Jordan’s hand. “I talked to his sister’s ghost.”

  The two of them presented a unified front. Brett had already lost his sister to the guy.

  “No kidding. Did Courtney help her go to the light?” He couldn’t help the mocking tone that crept into his question. He had a hard time believing in anything supernatural. If that stuff were real, someone would have produced authentic evidence. Nope, he didn’t believe in ghosts.

  He remembered the night he went with Josh McCord to the Love Shack out on Ashley Ridge hoping to communicate with his sister’s ghost because he believed that was the place where she’d been murdered. He’d shown up with her old teddy bear, feeling kind of like a lame idiot. Of course, he hadn’t been able to sense her presence. Because his sister wasn’t dead. If she had been dead, he still didn’t think her spirit would have shown up that night. The whole calling up the spirits of the dead thing was a load of steaming bull crap.

  Someone was jerking someone around.

  He didn’t have time to figure which one of them was tossing the crap. It was time for him to go. He had to do what he had to do before Shaw Bennett figured out what he was doing. The desire to see his sister one more time had brought him to the cabin. Maybe it had been a mistake. She wasn’t the same person that disappeared years ago, and he surely wasn’t the same guy.

  It was difficult not letting on what he had planned, but if he did, Chelsea would probably cry and beg him not to go.

  “So you’re gonna watch after her when I ain’t around, right?” He wanted the promise from Jordan before he left. He still needed to be the big brother, even though he wasn’t sure Chelsea would allow him the privilege anymore.

  “Where are you going, Brett?” Suspicion edged Chelsea’s question.

  “Back to the farm.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s where you told me you were going this afternoon.”

  He shrugged. “I decided to visit Amalia instead. Now I have to go check on the place. I’ll see you later.”

  He’d almost said he’d see her in the morning, but he wasn’t sure he could make such a promise. If everything went according to plan, he might not see her for days, maybe even weeks. Maybe not even for months. If things didn’t go right, he might never see her again.

  ****

  “I don’t have a good feeling, Jordan.” Chelsea spoke her mind as she watched the taillights of Brett’s truck vanish down the drive. “He was lying about going to the farm.”

  “How do you know?” Jordan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

  The sensation of being in his arms felt so good and right that it sucked the words clean out of her mind. He’d slid his arms around her seemingly without hesitation as if they were accustomed to being this close.

  She forced herself to concentrate on the discussion that she had started. “I could always tell when he was lying. He was never good at it.”

  “Really? I couldn’t tell, and I’m trained to spot a lie.”

  “I’m his sister.”

  Maybe she didn’t know Brett all that well after five years of absence, but apparently some things never changed.

  “He’s a big boy. He’ll be okay.”

  “Sure he will.” But she wasn’t so sure.

  His chin rested on the top of her head. “Alone at last.”

  The thought thrilled her and scared her. He spun her to face him. The light in his eyes informed her what he had on his mind. Her pulse zoomed to an unbelievable pace.

  She was sure he was about to kiss her again when his face contorted into a grimace. What? Did her breath smell that bad? He reached and pulled his phone from his pocket. If anything, the irritation on his face increased.

  “It’s Bennett.”

  She groaned.

  Jordan answered, and the cranky tone in his greeting pleased Chelsea. He had obviously been looking forward to their alone time as well.

  “You just missed Duncan. He left no more than five minutes ago.”

  He listened some more and then disconnected.

  Chelsea quirked one eyebrow at him, intensely curious as to what the call was about.

  “Bennett is releasing facial reconstruction sketches of the women buried in the basement of the house. Hopef
ully, someone can identify them. He’s going to include yours.”

  She shivered as if someone had stepped on her grave. “Why?”

  “Just in case anyone connects you to the house. You’re safer if Haskins and his men think you’re dead.”

  “Haskins wouldn’t know my face.”

  “But Jake would. He saw you at Cooley’s, remember? He knows you were with James and Zeke.”

  “He probably doesn’t even know my name, and if he did, why would he tell Haskins anything about me? I don’t like being…dead. Someone’s going to recognize me, even after five years. I’ll never be able to go back to being Cherish Duncan again.”

  Jordan dug deep into his reservoir of patience. Why was she making such a big deal out of it? “We don’t know what Haskins knows. It doesn’t matter if Jake realizes you’re still alive or if he’s told Haskins about the woman who used to live with James and Zeke, whatever he thought your name is or was. The point is to confuse Haskins.”

  “Brett should be told.”

  There wasn’t a way to communicate with Brett. The man couldn’t afford a cell phone. Trying to contact him at home would be useless. They both knew that Brett hadn’t gone home, no matter what he’d said to the contrary.

  “Surely your brother will figure out that Bennett is trying to fake your death to cover up your whereabouts. He just saw you. He knows you aren’t one of the woman in the basement.”

  No sooner had the words passed his lips than something whistled past his ear. He pressed his palm to his head, thinking it was a flying insect pestering him. When he pulled his hand back, blood covered his fingers. Instinct and training kicked in. He slapped his bloody hand on Chelsea’s head and pushed her to the ground. “Get down.”

  His free hand went for his weapon as another bullet smacked into the side of the cabin, splintering off a sliver of wood. Chelsea popped a hand over her mouth, and Jordan was grateful for her presence of mind. Screaming would not have helped at that moment. He yanked her by the arm and dragged them toward the door and the safety of the interior of the cabin. He got off a round in the direction from which the first shot came. Another bullet zipped past him. He jerked but kept moving.

  He slammed the door behind them and leaned against the wall next to the doorframe. Chelsea’s eyes grew wider than he’d ever seen them. She pointed at his head. “You’re bleeding.”

  Running his fingers over the wound, he concluded it was only a graze. Still, it hurt like fire. “Stay down, but find me something to stop the bleeding.”

  She crawled across the living area and into the kitchen, returning with a hand towel. He pressed it against the wound on the side of his head, closed his eyes, and ground out a string of curse words that made Chelsea fall back on her butt.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  Besides the obvious? “I dropped my cell when I got hit. It’s outside on the deck.”

  “Crap!” She cracked the door open.

  “What are you doing?” His heart raced with increased panic.

  “I’m going to get the phone.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if she got hurt.

  “I can stay low. The deck rail will cover me.”

  He reached for her, but missed. “No.”

  Before he could stop her, she was out the door. In seconds, she had returned with the phone. His heart had stalled and restarted with an angry jerk. “Don’t ever do that again. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  She shrugged. “He stopped shooting.”

  Was she freaking nuts? He tried to control his reaction to her impulsive behavior. “That doesn’t mean he’s gone. It probably means he’s trying to figure out the best way to get in here.” He pointed at the phone. “What are you waiting for? Call Bennett. Now.”

  His head pounded until his vision blurred. Maybe he was hit worse than he thought. He slid down the wall until he sat on the floor, pressing the soaked rag to his head. He still clung to the gun, but he couldn’t feel its weight in his numb hand. That’s when the searing pain shot through him. He dropped the rag and pressed his fingers into his shoulder, winced when he felt wetness. Chelsea’s frantic conversation with Bennett flowed in and out of his consciousness. He was going to pass out, and then he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to Brett to take care of Chelsea.

  Gunfire erupted outside the cabin. Chelsea stuffed her hand into her mouth. Shouted voices floated toward him. Unable to keep his eyes open, he closed them, but only for a few moments. Cool hands caressed his hot face. He forced his eyes open and stared up at Chelsea.

  “Hide.” He managed the single word instruction before the lights went out.

  ****

  Chelsea’s eyes followed the movements of the man who had saved their lives. She’d seen his face before, in her nightmares. Yet the man didn’t seem like the type that would be the villain in her drama.

  He stalled and shot her an impatient glare. “What are you staring at? Get me some more towels.”

  When she placed the towels by his side, he grabbed the one on top and pressed it onto Jordan’s shoulder.

  “Who are you?”

  He shot her a quick glance, blinked, and then returned his attention to Jordan. “Mitchell Grayson. I’m with…I used to be with the Hill County Sheriff’s Department.”

  “Ohhhh.” She’d heard his name. A lot. “You look a lot like…” She bit back the rest of the sentence.

  “Jeremy Haskins.”

  How did he know what she was going to say?

  “Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m nothing like him or his old man.”

  She believed him.

  “Did you see who was shooting at us?”

  He kept his eyes on Jordan’s wound. “No. I only saw his backside when he was retreating. If I could have put a bullet in his butt, I would have.”

  She dropped onto the floor next to Grayson. “How did he find us? We were supposed to be hiding out here.”

  Grayson nodded toward the towel pressed to Jordan’s shoulder. “Hold that while I tear a strip of this off.” He gripped the towel with his teeth and ripped off a length. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  The anxiety written on Grayson’s face made Chelsea’s stomach twist into knots. Was she going to lose Jordan before she even had a chance to truly be with him? She wanted them to be together, and the desire had nothing to do with keeping a promise to Jordan’s dead sister.

  From a distance, the wail of sirens crawled up the drive from the highway. “Thank God.” Grayson’s shoulders relaxed. He finally focused his attention on Chelsea. “It was either tend to Jordan’s wound or chase the shooter. But he left a blood trail, so as soon as EMS takes over for me, I’m going to follow the trail. I need to deal with him. If the guy is anyone who ever worked for Fred Haskins, he’s going to blow my cover.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The sudden knowledge that Chelsea wasn’t completely in the know flicked across his face. “Never mind.”

  “Shaw Bennett is on his way.”

  Grayson nodded. “Good. He’ll know what to do with you.”

  What does he mean he’ll know what to do with me? I’m not something to be handled or tossed around. No one has to do anything with me.

  That was the way James and Zeke had treated her. She was never going to let anyone treat her that way again.

  He seemed to realize how wrongly he’d worded his statement. “Sorry. I’m tired, and my words don’t come out right sometimes when I’m stressed. I just meant he’d know better where to relocate you to keep you safe.”

  She didn’t want to be separated from Jordan. “Can’t I go with him?”

  He drew in a breath and it seemed he’d finally allowed himself to breathe normally. “Jordan Clark told you a lot of things, didn’t he?”

  She pressed her lips together. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Bennett told me about you.” Apparently, he wasn’t through pushing he
r for a reaction.

  “Shaw Bennett has a big mouth.”

  Grayson chuckled, but they both knew that Shaw was good at saying only what he needed to say. He kept a lot to himself.

  “Yeah, Shaw isn’t my favorite person either, but he’s useful under certain circumstances.”

  She sniffed. The thoughts that she had pushed out of her mind came storming back into her consciousness. “Jordan promised me he wouldn’t leave me until this was over.” She stared at Grayson, and she would have stared him down if it had been necessary. “At least, let me go to the hospital with him, at least until he wakes up, before you let Shaw Bennett send me somewhere else for safekeeping.”

  “That’s a bad idea. You’re not going to be safe until we catch whoever took a shot at you, and maybe not even then. Following Jordan to the hospital would be an obvious move. We can’t risk it.”

  “I don’t want to go with Shaw.”

  “What will you do then?”

  The sirens blared outside the cabin door.

  “Stay with my brother.”

  But that wasn’t what she wanted, and it might be a long time before Jordan recuperated enough to go back to Louisiana. She had counted on the change in venue.

  The door banged open as two EMTs appeared in the doorway. “Move back.”

  Grayson released his hold on the soggy, red towel he’d kept on Jordan’s shoulder. He grabbed Chelsea by the hand and pulled her toward the back of the cabin out of sight of emergency personnel. “I don’t want those guys to figure out who you are. The last thing you need is someone spreading it around town that Cherish Duncan is still alive.” He released her hand and shut the bedroom door. “Where is your brother? I came here to talk to him.”

  Fear nearly ruptured her heart. Brett had obviously embarked on something that could get him killed. She sensed it as surely as if he had told her his plan.

  “He said he was going home, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Grayson rubbed the back of his neck and began to pace. He started to speak, but then apparently thought better of whatever he had intended to say.

  “He’s gonna get himself in trouble with Haskins.”

  Grayson stopped his back and forth trip across the short space in front of the bunk beds. “I can’t be three places at once.”