Chelsea Lane (Haunted Hearts Series Book 5)

by Denise Moncrief

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Jordan, where have you been? I tried to call your apartment and your cell. Why aren’t you returning my calls? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “I don’t get into trouble. I cause the bad guys trouble. No, Mom, I’ve been busy with a case.” Well, he wasn’t in trouble unless he counted Chelsea as trouble.

  She uttered a noise of disgust mixed with a good dose of motherly disbelief. “Yeah, I know. I called your supervisor.”

  “You did what? Aw, come on, Mom. Why did you have to do that?”

  “I’m pissed at you. He told me you’d been shot. He couldn’t believe you hadn’t called me and told me.” She paused and sniffed. “It’s the middle of the night. Are you on some sort of undercover operation?”

  He wanted to laugh but knew she wouldn’t take his amusement too well. “No, Mom.”

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  He nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I’m feeling a lot better. In fact, I’m coming home soon, and I’m bringing someone with me.”

  A long awkward pause.

  “A woman?”

  She didn’t have to sound so surprised.

  “Yes. A woman who is very special to me.” He gathered his courage. “But that’s not why I called.”

  He could hear her suck in her breath all the way from Baton Rouge.

  “I found Kristie.”

  A sob escaped her. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

  She wasn’t Kristie’s mother, but she’d been with Jordan every step of the way as he investigated her disappearance, and she had supported his desire to do anything he could to locate her. In fact, at times his mother had seemed much more interested in locating Kristie than Kristie’s mother had. Certainly, her father hadn’t done much to find her. He had as yet refused to acknowledge Jordan as his son. The man wouldn’t go near a paternity test, and Jen Clark didn’t have the money to sue him. Besides, by the time Jordan had discovered who his father was, he was almost too old for Jen to collect child support. If he hadn’t been on full scholarship, Jen might have pursued it. But he didn’t.

  Jen sighed, long and deep. “So what are you going to do now?”

  “I’m coming back to Louisiana. Maybe I can get a job with the State Police. Or something else in law enforcement.”

  She wouldn’t like him diving right back into police work, but she wouldn’t argue either. He could almost hear her disapproval. It rang in her silence. In the fact that she was silent.

  “But first, I’m going back to Wakefield.”

  She spluttered a half of a second before her words settled into something he could understand. “Whatever for? The best thing we ever did was to get out of there.”

  “This isn’t over, Mom.” He pulled the rest of his bravado around him like a shield against the storm that was about to come at him over the airwaves. “Kristie’s boyfriend is a Wakefield.”

  “Oh, son. You don’t want to get mixed up in that.”

  The door opened, and Chelsea emerged. She slid down the wall and sat next to him, wrapping her warm hand around his cold hand. He hadn’t even been aware he had clenched his fist. He could see the curiosity and sympathy glowing from her hazel eyes, even in the dark.

  “When do you think you’ll be home, son?” Resignation defined his mother’s question. She’d had no luck arguing with him about moving to Little Rock.

  “Give me a week or two.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  He disconnected before she had time to chastise him again for failing to call her on a regular basis. When he got back to Louisiana, he’d have to call her more often.

  “No matter what you think, Jordan, no matter what you think you did, you’re not the reason Kristie ran away.”

  He swallowed hard. Had she come to that conclusion by listening to his end of a conversation with his mother? He hadn’t addressed everything in the phone call that he could have. Getting into it with his mother about Kristie had always been like banging his head against the sharp corner of a car door. The futile exercise always hurt for a while afterwards.

  “Tell me…why do you think she left New Orleans the night before she got married?”

  “Because I pushed her away from her fiancée.” That was the simple answer.

  She shook her head. “That’s not what she told Sharona.” She inched closer to him, looked directly into his eyes. “You see, they would never let me in on their secrets, but I listened to them when they didn’t know I could hear them talking.” She twisted her mouth. “Oh no, don’t judge me. I wanted to be one of them. As twisted as that sounds. All my life, I’ve been the outsider.”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m not judging.”

  “Okay, then. So why do you think Kristie ran away?”

  “I never liked her fiancée. He gave me a bad feeling. Every time we were in the same room, I felt all this negative energy. You know like he was a dark spirit. Yeah, it was like that feeling I get when I walk into a haunted house and there’s a dark presence.”

  Chelsea’s eyes glowed, and he wanted to dive into those sweet hazel pools instead of talk about the mistakes he’d made.

  “But he wasn’t a ghost.”

  Jordan laughed. “Not in the traditional sense. I didn’t have much money, but I chunked down some cash on a private investigation.”

  Chelsea put her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.

  “Well, if this is boring you…”

  “I’m not bored. Just tired. But I want to hear about it, Jordan. You’ve been keeping it to yourself too long.”

  He tucked a wayward strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “How did you get so wise? I mean you’ve spent so much time with people who weren’t.”

  “I had a lot of time to think…and watch Oprah.”

  “So you think Oprah’s wise?”

  She snorted. “Enough about me. You know everything there is to know about me, and what you don’t know, you can guess.”

  He ran his hand down his bare thigh. He’d stripped down to his underwear to sleep. She’d commented on his “sexy” legs until she’d nearly fallen off the bed laughing at her own teasing.

  The woman had a mean streak.

  Not a wide one.

  Just a streak large enough to be interesting.

  “I first got suspicious of Brandon Wakefield when Kristie told me his name, and where he said he came from.”

  “Before you’d even met him?

  “You see, I grew up in Wakefield. When she said he came from a long line of people who had owned property near Wakefield, I knew something wasn’t right. He never wanted her to meet his parents. In fact, they weren’t coming to the wedding. He said his father was on business overseas and wouldn’t be home in time.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “No one has lived in Wakefield Manor for over fifty years. Everyone in town knows the bank is holding a trust fund for a Wakefield heir…if someone ever shows up to claim the fund and prove their lineage.”

  “So this guy was lying?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. The investigator I hired found his birth certificate. Unless he stole someone’s identity, he’s always been a Wakefield. Here’s the weird thing. The PI couldn’t find any record of his parents’ births.”

  “Come on, he couldn’t have grown up without parents.”

  Jordan stared at her and tilted his head.

  She modified her comment. “Without an adult to at least pretend to be a parent.”

  She had a good point.

  “He’d been kicked out of two prep schools up north. Strange thing about that…neither of the schools’ headmasters ever met his parents. A law firm in Atlanta, a firm that doesn’t exist, made all of the arrangements. He’d been kicked out of both schools. Finally, graduated from a school in New Orleans. The investigator told me that there was a rumor floating around New Orleans that a girl’s parents had paid him off to leave
town.”

  She chewed on a fingernail and then cranked out an opinion. “This just keeps getting weirder.”

  “I know, right?” He pulled her next to him, and her warmth registered all the way from the top of his head to his toes. “He’s attended Stanford and Vanderbilt. Dropped out of both due to rumors about his behavior. Drinking. Fighting. Allegations of date rape. Flunking his classes. Skipping class. Finally graduated from Tulane. Tuition was always paid by wire transfer. No scholarships.”

  “Is this guy for real? Why would he waste all those opportunities? I wish I could have gone to college…or even finished high school.”

  Jordan rubbed the back of his aching neck. “You see, that’s just it. I’m not sure this guy is for real. All of this is hearsay or circumstantial. No proof of any wrongdoing. So when I presented the PI’s report to Kristie…”

  “She got angry at you for interfering with her life.”

  He nodded. “The day before she left town her credit card charges showed that she’d gassed up her car in Wakefield.”

  “You think she left because she followed up on your suspicions and learned you were right?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’ve always thought, and I’ve always wondered if I should have left things alone. If I hadn’t pushed her to listen, if she’d have come to her own conclusions, maybe she would have asked for my help. I’ve always thought she confronted him, and he killed her to keep her quiet. I thought I’d find him at the end of the trail here in Arkansas.”

  “But that’s not what happened.”

  He sighed. “Brandon Wakefield left New Orleans, and no one knows where he went. I’m the only one that suspected him of having something to do with Kristie’s disappearance. Everyone else thought he was a great guy. They felt sorry for him because she left him at the altar. The cops in New Orleans didn’t even question him that hard.”

  Chelsea pushed up on the wall and rose to her feet. She held her hand out to him. “Come on, let’s go to bed. Thinking about this stuff isn’t going to make it all go away.”

  He let her drag him off the floor…with some help. He was, after all, larger than she was.

  She flopped onto the bed and stared up at him. “You want to go to Wakefield, don’t you?”

  “I called a friend of mine the other day. We were talking about a lot of stuff, and then he mentioned he had a job renovating the old Wakefield Manor plantation house for Les Wakefield.”

  A thoughtful frown developed on Chelsea’s face. “You think Les is the same person as Brandon, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know, but I want to find out.”

  “Are you sure? Because I can tell you why Kristie left.”

  He stopped in his tracks halfway to the bed and waited for her to inform him.

  She hopped off the double cot, closed the gap between them, and wrapped her arms around him before she spilled what she knew. “Kristie told Sharona that she left because she didn’t want to get married. She wanted more than what her mother had. It wasn’t about what you told her. At least, she never mentioned any of that to Sharona.” She raised her eyes to meet his.

  He stiffened in her embrace. “I still want to find the bastard. Whether she wanted to marry him or not, he was going to ruin her life.”

  Chelsea hugged him tighter, and he finally slipped his arms around her. Jordan stroked her hair. “Let’s do one more thing before we leave.”

  Excitement radiated from her. He could guess what she was thinking, and he was probably about to disappoint her…maybe.

  “Can we scare the crap out of Zach Halsey one more time?”

  She threw back her head and cackled. He loved giving her so much pleasure. He looked forward to giving her pleasure in other ways.

  “I’m okay with that, but I really want to see Brett out of trouble before we leave.”

  He could understand that. “I have a feeling all of that is about to come to an ugly end soon. Let’s hope your brother finds some place to run for cover when it all comes down.”

  ****

  They’d finally fallen back to sleep around six that morning and then ended up sleeping most of the day. All evening, Chelsea had fretted and Jordan had paced. The midnight hour approached, and neither of them was ready to sleep. Jordan suggested it might be a good time to search for Zach Halsey, and Chelsea didn’t argue. Before she left the house, she grabbed her car-driving wig.

  It was pure luck that Chelsea and Jordan found the bar where Zach Halsey was drowning his sorrows, or maybe his fears. They hovered near the front, trying to keep in the shadows of the darker recesses.

  Chelsea nudged Jordan and pointed. “He’s with his friend, the one that came with him when he was over at Grandpa’s house looking for Brett.

  Jordan squinted and stared across the smoky room at Zach Halsey and his partner in crime. “What’s his friend’s name?”

  “Conley. I don’t remember his last name.”

  “Okay, how about we do it this way? That looks like the restroom in the back, right behind where they’re sitting. Do you think you can walk past them without drawing their attention?”

  She didn’t quite look like herself in the platinum blonde wig, and it had been five years since Zach had seen her last. She’d seen him at her Grandpa’s house, but he hadn’t seen her.

  “I’ll keep my head down.”

  “I’m gonna introduce myself and sit down at the table with them. Go take off the wig in the restroom and then appear in the door there. I’ll wait until he gets a good look at you, and then I’m going to do something to distract him while you find a way to get out the back door. Scout out your escape before you stand in the doorway. If there’s no way out, wave me off. Okay?”

  She nodded her understanding of the plan, set the wig straighter on her head, and slumped across the barroom floor toward the ladies’ room with her head down.

  Zach Halsey and his companion didn’t even glance her way when she passed them. The two men appeared to be in deep conversation.

  Jordan considered a few ideas before he settled on his approach. He slipped between tables and slid into the chair across from Zach. The position of the chairs around the table ensured that both Zach and Jordan would see Chelsea when she presented Zach with the ghost of Cherish Duncan.

  As soon as Jordan settled into his seat, Zach leaned his elbows on the table, planting his elbow in some spilled beer. “Clark, I don’t think I invited you to drink with us.”

  The guy knew who he was. A nice start. No introductions necessary.

  “I have a few questions for you about the murder of Cherish Duncan.” He elevated his normal speaking volume and used the word murder on purpose.

  Halsey slammed his empty glass onto the table. “I told that partner of yours everything I know. I didn’t kill her. I haven’t been anywhere near those cabins.”

  Jordan kept his counsel for a few long moments, just long enough Zach slumped a little. The questions that law enforcement had slung at him had no doubt been endless. He seemed weary. Jordan’s purpose hadn’t been to elicit a confession, but if the guy wanted to admit to the shooting, he’d listen.

  “Go away.”

  Jordan drew on everything he’d heard and learned about Fred Haskins and Sheriff Halsey. From what Chelsea had told him about the night she disappeared. About how Zach had probably taken advantage of a lot of girls in high school. Jordan’s opinion? The guy didn’t deserve to wear a badge.

  “I think you have some explaining to do. Your fingerprints are all over Brett Duncan’s house, and Brett is missing. Cherish is dead. The whole town knows you have a vendetta against the Duncans. Why don’t you just come clean?” He leaned forward, shoving a few empty glasses aside. “You know these accusations aren’t doing anything to help you…or your grandfather. And they aren’t going away. A lot of people are saying you had something to do with her disappearance years ago. They’re saying that’s what Haskins used to blackmail your grandfather.” He had no idea if anyone was saying anyth
ing at all.

  A dim light behind Halsey cast a golden glow about his head. Halsey had turned red in the face, either from the stress or the heavy consumption of alcohol. Didn’t matter. The man was about to burst.

  “My grandfather has nothing to do with Fred Haskins. This is Grayson’s agenda to get my grandfather out of the Sheriff’s office. Probably because he wants the job.”

  “What did Brett Duncan find out about you? Is that why he’s missing?”

  Halsey jumped to his feet. His eyes riveted on the doorway to the back near the restrooms. His face paled and his hands began to shake. “Oh, my God.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Zach pointed toward the door. “It’s her.”

  Just as Zach’s friend turned in his chair, Chelsea pulled back into the shadows. Conley turned back to Zach. “What are you talking about? There’s no one there.”

  Chelsea’s timing had been perfect.

  “I saw her. There she is again.”

  Jordan laughed. “What are you trying to pull, Halsey? I don’t see anyone.” He was looking straight at her. It was hard pretending not to see her. She looked beautiful standing in the glow of the neon lights that said gents and ladies.

  “She’s right there.”

  Jordan banged his hand on the table. “Halsey, pull yourself together. Do you think you see her ghost? Sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”

  Zach’s friend burst into derisive laughter.

  A vein popped on Zach’s forehead. His head snapped back toward Jordan, just long enough. Chelsea disappeared again.

  “I tell you. I saw her. Why are you pretending you don’t see anything?” His eyes zeroed in on the now empty doorway.

  Zach jumped to his feet, in motion before Jordan could stop him. He grabbed Zach’s elbow before he got too far toward the door. “Whoa! Hold up. Where do you think you’re going? We aren’t done talking yet.”

  “I have nothing else to say.” His upper lip quivered with anger.

  Jordan placed his hand on his hip near his holster. “Sit down.”

  Zach eyed the gun and then lowered himself back into his chair. Since Halsey was off duty, he wasn’t packing his service weapon. A lucky break. The moment could have gotten ugly.