“Is that even possible?”
Jordan could stand to keep his intuitive impressions to himself no longer. “He’s gone. He won’t bother you again. When Celeste told him to leave, his soul went back to Chelsea Lane. He needed to torment someone, so he went back to the place where he could always take out his anger on someone else.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
Shaw spoke up before Jordan could stammer a reply. “Jordan has this weird ability to interpret the source of supernatural energy in a place.”
“So…you don’t feel him here anymore?” Laurel asked. Her eyes lit with hope.
He wanted to give the woman what she wanted. Peace. “The other times I’ve been here I could feel him. Strong negative energy. The strongest feeling I’ve ever had. He’s gone.”
“We stayed here last night.” Chase slid an arm across the back of Laurel’s chair. “It was the quietest this house has ever been, at least as long as I’ve been here.”
Laurel nodded in agreement. “So quiet. It was almost like it wasn’t the same house.”
“The last time I was here, I sensed that he meant to harm you, Laurel. I know now that Celeste wasn’t going to let that happen.” Jordan leaned forward, hoping to give the couple some assurance. “Celeste is still here, but she’s only staying to keep the darkness away. Her confrontation with James diminished her energy, but she’ll be back. Probably when you least expect it.”
He would never understand where his thoughts came from. It was like they jumped into his head without his permission. Normally, he tried to think everything through and only speak when he was sure of what he was talking about. But this gift he had…it was different.
Interpreting the actions of ghosts seemed like such a load of bull crap. Pretentious and far-fetched. Yet he’d experienced too many paranormal incidents and felt deep in his soul the emotions of the spirits haunting a place too many times to ever doubt he had an unusual ability.
Chase laughed with apparent discomfort. “This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”
Jordan and Chelsea sighed at the same moment and then laughed together. Their eyes met. They’d had more than a few weird conversations over the last few weeks.
Chelsea seemed to shake off her previous introspection and kept the narrative going. “When Celeste told him to leave, he must have headed straight to Chelsea Lane.”
Laurel reached across the table toward Chelsea. “What happened?”
Chelsea met her hand halfway. “I think…I mean this is my idea of what happened…I think the ghosts of the women who died in the house sucked all the mean out of him and sent him to…where he deserves to go.”
Jordan added his thoughts. “She means they sent the son-of-a-bitch straight to hell. Ever since the paranormal thing happened last night, the house has been very, very quiet.” He smiled at Chelsea. “She could hardly sleep because it was so quiet.”
She shrugged with each hand in someone else’s grasp. “I got used to the commotion, I guess.”
He disagreed. “No, hon. I don’t think you ever did. That house freaked you out.”
“So why did you go back?”
Laurel had a very good question. One that Jordan had gotten his head bit off for asking.
“I needed those women to forgive me.”
Well, that was a fresh take on the situation. She’d never told him that.
“Did they?”
Chelsea smiled and nodded. “Forgiveness feels good, but that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to forget.”
Shaw tapped one finger on the table, and Jordan was positive that was his way of regaining control of the room. He forced his eyes to remain focused straight ahead, not allowing them to roll, as they were prone to do when Shaw was being Shaw.
“Tori Downing says she’s seen Victoria again, but she hasn’t felt threatened at the house in a long time. She’s going ahead with her plans to renovate the place and turn it into a wedding destination.” He referred to the ghost trouble Grayson’s girlfriend had at her place. There had been a ghost eviction there as well. Shaw continued. “Courtney and I spent last night at Shaw’s Landing. The night was peaceful. In fact, we’re thinking of living there permanently.” Had they finally buried the ghost of Jeremy Haskins when old man Fred had his bones cremated?
Jordan added his own observation. “There were no more disturbances last night after the women sent James into oblivion.”
Chelsea cringed at Jordan’s description of the event, and he apologized with his eyes. Her sad expression seemed to accept his apology.
He finished his thought. “I don’t feel a dark presence there anymore. I think he’s gone.”
“Is it possible the dark hauntings have finally settled down here?” Shaw sounded hopeful. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to my house in Little Rock. I could use a bit of down time. Maybe haul some of my things up to the Landing. Bring my dog up here to live with me. I bet he doesn’t even remember my face.”
“I could go out there and feel the place up for you.”
The group burst with amusement, laughter ringing around the kitchen. So much emotional tension released at his thin joke.
“Might be a good idea.” Shaw rubbed his hands together. “Well, I think we’re done here.” He stood to his feet. “So are the two of you staying here now?”
Chase spoke for the couple. “Laurel is anxious to open the house back up. You know for the purpose we talked about.”
Chase’s veiled comment captured Jordan’s attention. He’d have to pump Shaw for the story later.
Laurel filled in the missing information. “I want to open the house up for women who are running from abusive relationships. But please…keep that quiet. I want to keep it underground. Sometimes women need a place to hide for a while.”
Chelsea rose and circled the table, and Laurel stood to face her. The two women hugged, and Jordan supposed a buttload of non-verbal communication passed between them.
Shaw motioned toward the back door. “We have a few more things to talk about.”
No doubt.
Jordan grabbed Chelsea’s hand, and the two of them followed Shaw out to where their cars were parked beneath a huge sycamore tree.
Shaw drew in a deep breath as he leaned against his vehicle. “I’m pretty sure the shooter was Zach Halsey. He’s been out sick for the last few days. I sent a deputy out to his apartment day before yesterday. Zach walks just about like you do. Like he’s taken a bullet.”
Chelsea deflated. The meeting had ended on a positive, but there were still negatives circling them like vicious yipping coyotes.
“When is this going to end?” Her voice faltered, strong emotions seeping out of the tiny cracks in the got-it-together front she was trying so hard to present to the world.
“Yesterday, I let it be known that one of the women James kidnapped had survived, but also suggested that the survivor had suffered enough trauma that she had no memory of who she was or where she had come from.”
“You mean me?” It wasn’t really a question. “My memory is fine.”
He ignored her sharp observation and continued. “Then I informed the press that you had been killed in a shooting at the safe house where you’d been staying, and I was pretty casual about letting them have the artist’s sketch of your face. For the purpose of identifying you, now that you were dead.”
“Okay, but why did you do that?”
He smiled. “I want Zach Halsey to think he killed you.”
Jordan blurted his opinion. “Don’t you think that’s kind of dangerous? He’ll be even more desperate. There’s no telling what he’ll do. Bennett, that fool is going to believe he has nothing else to lose by taking out someone else.”
“I don’t think I’m planting any new ideas in his head. He’s already attempted to murder three people. I think he’s past restraint. I want to push him a little further so he makes a stupid mistake.”
Jordan’s jaw muscle
tightened. “I don’t want Chelsea’s death to be the next stupid mistake he makes.”
“Neither do I, but he’ll believe she’s dead. I think she’s safe from him. At least, until he finds out he’s been played.”
Jordan glared at Shaw. The other man didn’t flinch or waver. When Bennett thought he was right, he stuck to his opinion. Sometimes his stupid ideas couldn’t be removed with a bulldozer.
Chelsea tapped Jordan on the shoulder, and he reluctantly turned his attention to her.
“Shaw’s right.” A wicked smile spread across her face. “I have an idea.”
Jordan didn’t like the two of them conspiring. Chelsea was twisted enough and Shaw was determined enough that things could get dicey.
Chelsea turned on her sweetest smile. He’d seen that variation on her face before. When she wanted him to agree with her. The sugar dripped over his objections. The woman knew exactly how she was manipulating him. “I’ll need your help. You want to help, don’t you?”
He groaned.
Shaw crossed his arms over his chest. “So what do you have in mind?”
Chelsea’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, no. I’m not telling you. It’s best if you don’t know.”
Shaw studied her refusal for a moment. “So what do you need from me?”
“I just need to know where I can find Zach.”
Shaw straightened. “It would be a mistake to attack him.”
She laughed hard and then ceased her laughter abruptly. “I have something in mind far better than hurting him. He’s gonna get what he deserves, but I’m not gonna put a mark on him.”
Shaw whistled. Admiration glowed in his eyes.
Jordan cringed. “You know, Chelsea. You scare me sometimes.”
She hit him with another saccharine smile. “Only sometimes?”
Shaw’s amusement vanished. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”
Chelsea’s smile disappeared like donuts at a church meeting. “Brett’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
“Brett has gotten inside Haskins’s operation. We haven’t been able to find him, but Grayson said he overheard Haskins’s men mention Brett’s name. They weren’t saying his name like he was their new best friend, you know. Gray said it sounded as if they didn’t trust Brett. Like he was a liability they were going to have to deal with soon.”
Gray? Oh yeah, sometimes Jordan forgot the man went by the shortened version of his last name.
Chelsea closed her eyes. “Probably cooking meth for them.”
Shaw nodded.
Chelsea exploded with doubt. “How does Grayson know? Why would he overhear what Haskins’s men are saying? Have you got his house bugged or something?”
Shaw glanced at Jordan. His expression was indecipherable. “Grayson’s on the inside.”
That seemed to shock Chelsea. “Wow! Just wow! So that’s what he didn’t want to tell me.”
****
Chelsea shoved the key into the ignition. Her mind still couldn’t comprehend the thing that Brett had done.
“He came back because of me.” Jordan clicked his seatbelt. “If we hadn’t gone back to the house, he probably would have never gone back there.”
She turned questioning eyes on him. What was he babbling about?
“Don’t you see? He was jealous.”
She chewed on his assumption a moment. Oh, he had gone back to thinking about the incident with James’s ghost. “Jealous of you?”
“Jealous of us together. Think about it.”
Maybe he was right, but she was too tired to care if James Standridge was jealous of her relationship with Jordan Clark or not. “Doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”
“I stirred things up by going into that house.”
She switched the engine off. “Jordan, what are you talking about? Things were already stirred up.”
“He never came back until I stayed there. Am I right? It was me. He came there to punish you for being with me.”
Her patience ran away from home. “Oh, my God. Stop. You really think he cared if we were together?”
“Think about it, Chelsea. You were the only thing in his life he managed to control.” He paused. “And he didn’t do such a good job of that.”
“Is that what you think of me? That I’m just a possession that needs to be controlled?”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
“What did you mean? You told me you were with me because I asked for your help. You told me you’d stay with me because you wanted to. Are you telling me now that you’re with me because…” She sputtered. The right words wouldn’t form.
“I’m not trying to control you.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried.”
“James did and I’m a better man than James.”
She slapped him before she had time to think about it. His head jerked and his hand went to his face. Her breathing hitched in and out.
The weird moment shattered as if someone had thrown a brick at a plate glass window.
“I’m sorry.” She reached toward him and then drew back. “I don’t know what just happened.” Anxiety rushed her. Panic filled her. “It’s like he’s still controlling me.”
He leaned over and pulled her head onto his shoulder. “I don’t know what happened either. I can’t believe I said that. I’m so sorry.”
She lifted her head to look him in the eye. “Do you think he’s still…”
“Messing with us?” He hoped not. “Maybe your reaction was just the leftovers from the negative energy last night.
“Do you really think you drew him there?”
“I didn’t feel anything when we first got there, but when I woke up last night, it was as if a weight had jumped onto my chest and squeezed the oxygen out of my lungs.”
She leaned her forehead on his. “That can’t be good for someone who’s just been shot.”
“Nope.” He pushed back from her. “Can we get out of here? This place still gives me the creeps.”
“Where are we going?” It was her turn to ask the question.
He rubbed his hand over his mouth as if he didn’t want to utter the words that sat on the edge of his tongue. “We should go back to the house now. I want to know if he’s really gone.” He watched her as she restarted the car. “So what do you have in mind for Zach Halsey.”
Her mood changed. Pleasure ignited her features. “I think the ghost of Cherish Duncan should visit him, don’t you?”
“That’s…that’s…evil.”
She grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
“And beautiful.”
“So you’ll help me?”
He nodded.
Of course, he would. She relaxed and headed the car toward Fairview.
****
The door squeaked on its hinges. Brett glanced up from the solution he was mixing to determine who was breaking his concentration. To his surprise, Grayson stepped through the door. He’d heard that the man had gotten tight with Fred Haskins, but this was the first time he’d actually seen his face since the shooting incident.
Grayson seemed to take in his presence with one swift nod and then write him off as insignificant. He studied Riley a long moment, and indifference settled across his features as if Riley was an unimportant player. That was sure to anger Riley. He was constantly struggling to make Dalton think he was the boss.
Grayson addressed Dalton. “Haskins sent me to check on your progress. He’s not pleased.”
And that was the first time Brett had heard anyone mention the old man’s name. Dalton flinched and cast a glance Brett’s way as if to determine if Brett had heard Grayson’s indiscretion.
Riley spit a wad of tobacco onto the floor. “Shut up, man.” He nodded toward Brett. “We keep him out of things he don’t need to know.”
Grayson ignored the warning. “Are you gonna be finished tonight.”
Brett spoke his mind before Riley or Dalton could put a positive spin on their slow progress. Working with those two had bee
n like working with dumb and dumber. “Doubt it.”
“That’s not an option.” Grayson tossed an angry glare at Riley but continued to speak to Brett. “Are those two idiots helping you?”
“Nope.”
“No wonder you’re behind schedule. Are you doing this by yourself?”
“Nope.”
Grayson appeared impatient. “Well, then where’s your help?”
Brett nodded toward the back room. “She peed her pants and then passed out.” Was his tone derisive enough?
His previous sympathy for the poor woman had nearly exposed him as a fraud. When his attempts to ease her situation had backfired, he backed off, not wanting his interference to make things worse for her. He didn’t even know her name. When he thought about how they were treating the girl, his mind wandered back to the way he had found Amalia.
Grayson edged closer to Riley. The man had gotten twitchy. He couldn’t seem to control his hands.
“Who is she?”
Riley snickered. “Picked her up near the University in Fayetteville.” He seemed to be proud of the job he had done.
Grayson exploded. “Are you stupid? College students have rich parents. She must be that missing girl that’s been in the news. They’ve got the FBI looking for her. How long do you think it’s gonna be before they find you?” He shook his head as if in utter disdain for their stupidity. “We have to get her out of here.”
Brett sucked back the breath that was about to rush from him. Was Grayson about to rescue the girl?
Dalton stepped up. “Can’t do that. We need her to help us finish the batch.”
Grayson pointed toward the back room. “She isn’t going to be any good to you if she’s dead, is she? She passed out, moron. The fumes get to them. Did you let her wear a mask?” He pushed past Dalton to rattle the padlock on the door. “Open it up.”
“What? No.” Dalton could get belligerent quickly.
Grayson had a 9 MM in the guy’s face in the blink of an eye. Brett sat back and watched the show. Amused. Grayson put on a good act.
“Never mind.” Instead of making Idiot #1 open the lock, Grayson blew it off.
Hysterical screaming erupted from the interior of the closet.
Chelsea Lane (Haunted Hearts Series Book 5) Page 21