Laurel Heights (Haunted Hearts Series Book 1) Page 6

  “No. I’m never going back.” She rose from the table and began clearing away their dirty dinner plates.

  “Let me help with that.”

  She leaned against the counter next to the sink. “No, I’m okay. Please, go back to work.” She stopped the drain, turned the tap, and squirted a stream of dish soap into the hot water.

  He studied her rigid back. The woman was upset and trying hard not to let it show. He hated to leave her alone in the house, but he needed to retrieve his gear from the motel where he’d been staying for the last month. “I’m going to town to get my things.”

  She immersed their dirty dishes into the soapy water and grabbed a scrubber. “Okay.” A note of fear wobbled in her voice.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He hoped he sounded reassuring.

  She nodded but didn’t glance up from her task.

  His hand was on the doorknob when a loud bang startled him. He turned and stared at the door that led into the front room. His gaze shifted to Laurel. Her hands hung in mid-air, wet and soapy above the sink.

  “That wasn’t the house settling.” As soon as he voiced his opinion, he regretted his thoughtless words.

  She wiped the soapsuds on a nearby dishtowel and pressed a trembling hand to her chest. “That kind of thing happens all the time after dark.” Her words escaped between hitchy breaths. “That’s the first time anything has happened during the day.”

  He studied her pale face. The urge to protect her from the unknown overwhelmed him. He was right to move into the main house. Something was going on, whether natural or paranormal, and he was determined to find out what or who was messing with her.

  “Stay here. I’m going to go check it out.”

  “No, wait.” She grabbed his arm above the elbow as he passed her on the way to the door. “I’ll go with you.”

  If someone was in her house, they meant her harm. It was best if he confronted the danger alone. “Laurel—”

  “Please, Chase. You don’t know... I haven’t told you...”

  He tilted his head back and drew in a deep breath. “Is someone harassing you?”

  “No.... I mean, I don’t think so... Maybe.”

  He understood her confusion. Rand might have grown so impatient with Chase’s lack of progress that he sent someone else to do what Chase was reluctant to do. Or one of Rand’s associates might have gotten wind that Rand had lost the codes and suspected Laurel had taken them. Or any number of Rand’s unscrupulous competitors might have heard about the missing travel drive and decided to search Laurel’s property for it. Just because Chase hadn’t seen anybody on the grounds or in the house yet, didn’t mean no one would ever show up to take what didn’t belong to him.

  His brother had been the middleman for some rather large illegal transactions. He had taken his cut and forwarded the rest to a bank account in the Cayman Islands to await further instructions on how to transfer the money to its final destination. The problem? Without the codes, Rand couldn’t finish what he started, and the men he had worked for wouldn’t wait much longer for their money. If he didn’t find the codes and deliver the money he promised them soon, he was as good as dead.

  Chase was surprised they had let Rand live as long as they had. It wasn’t that hard to get to someone in prison.

  Chase hadn’t wanted to get in the middle of Rand’s problem, but what choice did he have? If Rand hadn’t used his money to buy Chase a good lawyer, he wouldn’t owe his brother such a huge favor. The high-priced legal mouthpiece had won Chase an appeal and gotten his conviction tossed out. He couldn’t be tried for his alleged crime again. He didn’t regret doing what it took to gain his release, but sometimes he wondered what his freedom was going to cost him.

  Laurel’s eyes pleaded with him. Maybe she was right. Maybe she shouldn’t be left alone.

  “Okay, stay behind me.”

  He scanned the kitchen and spotted the baseball bat. Before he pushed the swinging kitchen door open, he grabbed the aluminum by the rubber grip.

  “If you see anyone, get out of the house.” He handed her his keys and his cell phone. “Take my truck and call the cops. Understand?”

  Laurel remained mute, her large amber eyes wide with fright.

  He nudged her. “Laurel?”

  She nodded. The woman followed so closely he could feel her hot breath on his back. She was short, at least eight or nine inches shorter than his five foot eleven height.

  “Okay, then.” He pushed the door open. “Here we go.”

  The large front room was empty. Light from the setting sun filtered through the narrow panes of glass on each side of the entry door. He took his time crossing the worn rug and passing through the archway into the small parlor on the far side of the front room. Nothing seemed out of place or unusual. The sawhorse stood in the middle of the room where he had left it. Two by fours leaned against a wall that had been stripped bare of peeling wallpaper. He hadn’t yet tackled the large stain on the ceiling. He would have to rent scaffolding to prime the spot and paint over it.

  “Nothing seems disturbed. Just the way I left—”

  Another loud bang on the second floor.

  Laurel’s arms slid around his waist. She leaned her head in the middle of his back right between his shoulder blades and emitted a strangled sob. “Please don’t go up there.”

  The warmth of her nearness distracted him from his mission. He wanted to turn around and face her, to put his arms around her and comfort her, to drive away her fears.

  He cleared his throat. “I won’t be able to find out who’s up there if I don’t.”

  She spoke into his back, her lips moving against the fabric of his t-shirt. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

  An interesting way to phrase her concern. Maybe the woman did have romantic thoughts about him. Maybe he had... No, he couldn’t think like that. Bad idea. Very bad.

  “Whatever is going on, we need to confront it head on and get it over with.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You don’t have to come upstairs with me.”

  “If you’re going to go up there and face it, then I need to go with you.”

  She dropped her arms, and the sudden loss of her warmth caused a hollow spot to form in the pit of his stomach. His heart pounded in his chest. Was his increased pulse rate due to fear of what made the noise upstairs or fear of what the woman could do to his heart if he let her?

  “Stay close.”

  He started a slow climb up the stairs. One tread at a time. Not because he was frightened of what might be at the top... Okay, he had to admit he was scared, but he couldn’t let fear stop him. If someone was rummaging around Laurel’s upstairs rooms, Chase wanted to surprise the son of a bitch in the act.

  He was halfway up the flight with Laurel trailing close behind when a shrill melody erupted from the parlor they had just left. The eerie sound caused chill bumps to form on his arms.

  “What is that noise?” He turned to face Laurel, who had halted her climb two treads below him.

  “Sounds like a harpsichord,” she whispered.

  “A what?”

  “A kind of piano.”

  “There’s no piano in this house.”

  Her eyes met his. “No, there’s not.”

  Just as he was about to comment further, a hand shoved him hard in the middle of his back. He stumbled and fell, plowing into Laurel. A metallic clink rang close to his ear, and a sharp pain erupted in his head. Laurel and Chase tumbled down the bottom half of the stairs until they stopped rolling on the last step.

  Once he quit falling, the pain in his head blinded him for a long moment. When his focus returned, Laurel was on top of him with the bottom tread of the stairs pressed against his lower back. She stared into his eyes. Somehow their breathing had found a mutual rhythm, chest pressed against chest.

  Her thumb wiped his cheek. “You’re bleeding.”

  Her flat tone scared him more than the threat of another attack.

>   He should have pushed her off. He knew he should have. But he didn’t. His fingers wrapped around the hand that caressed his throbbing cheek. For one long tortured moment, he wanted to kiss her. She moved her head closer to his as if she wanted him to kiss her.

  Sanity prevailed. He couldn’t make a move on his brother’s ex-girlfriend. Not when he had stalked her, deceived her, and gained her trust by deception. He needed to push her away, but he was stalling. He couldn’t help the way his body reacted to hers.

  “Did you see who pushed me?”

  She shifted and rolled off him. He was glad she had made the first move to separate them.

  She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Someone shoved me in the middle of my back.”

  Her eyes brightened with alarm. “Chase, there was no one there. Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?” Her derision sounded forced, laced with fear rather than skepticism.

  He grunted. He could be sure of nothing. Not about Laurel. Not about the house. Not about the strange things that were going on at Laurel Heights.

  He scanned the room, searching for the bat. When he located it lying on the other side of the front room, it surprised him it had traveled so far. He didn’t even remember the bat leaving his hand.

  He stood and helped her to her feet. She brushed the front of her jeans as if her pants had been soiled and smoothed the front of her t-shirt. When she glanced up at him, he gazed into her eyes. A spark flared in the amber depths. He stared until he couldn't stand to indulge in the luxury of their warmth any longer. Strong emotion emanated from the woman, and he wanted desperately to respond to the heat she radiated.

  The need to be with her swelled within him and met the strong emotion she generated.

  “Maybe we should finish searching the house.” He’d never hated doing the right thing so much in his life.

  Whatever her previous emotions had been, the spark in her eyes died with his suggestion. “Yeah,” she whispered, clearly disappointed. “When we get to the upstairs bath, I’ll get a bandage for that cut on your forehead.”

  He pressed his fingers against the bloody wound. How did he cut his forehead? The fog in his thinking was clearing, but not quick enough to figure out what had just happened.

  “Are you sure you didn’t see anyone? I could have sworn I felt a hand in the middle of my back.”

  She bit her bottom lip. Her silence answered his question. She had seen nothing. Was the hard shove his imagination or something else? Her face glowed with frantic excitement. No longer reflecting fear. Had she heard the rumors about Laurel Heights being haunted? Did the thought exhilarate her? Some people were twisted that way.

  She shuddered. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He left the bat where it lay, grabbed Laurel’s hand, and rushed up the stairs. She kept up with his fast pace. Once they’d finished their search, found no one and nothing out of the ordinary, and she had applied a bandage to the cut on his head, he placed one hand on each of her upper arms. “I still need to go to town.” He didn’t want to leave his few possessions in the motel room he’d rented. “Maybe you should come with me.”

  She breathed in deeply and eased out of his grasp. “No. There’s no one here but us. I’ll be all right.” She left the bath and headed down the hallway.

  He followed her two paces behind. “Are you sure?”

  She glanced over her shoulder as she descended the stairs, kept moving, and then stopped in the middle of the big front room. “No, not really, but...I just... I don’t want to leave the house right now. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I just feel like I need to stay. Like if I leave something awful will happen.”

  He smiled at her melodrama. “Aren’t you being a little dramatic?”

  She returned his smile. “Maybe.” She nodded toward the front stairs. “But you know as well as I do that something weird happened that we can’t explain.”

  A huge lump settled in his throat right about even with his Adam’s apple. “I’ll hurry.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’m going to watch you leave...just like I always do. I’m staying right by the door until you get back. That way I can get out of the house fast if I have to.” She pulled his keys and cell phone out of her jeans pocket. “You might need these.”

  He grinned. “Want me to get the bat for you?”

  She laughed. The makeshift weapon had been no defense when they were on the stairs.

  “Yeah, why not? It’s become a close personal...um...friend.”

  “You need a better class of friends.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You do realize you’re the only friend I have, right?”

  When had they become friends?

  “Like I said...you need a better class of friends.”

  When he retrieved the bat, he noticed blood right about where the aluminum would have met his forehead. He turned his back to her and wiped off the red with the underside of his t-shirt. No need for Laurel’s mind to dwell on the strange anomaly of how his blood had gotten onto the bat if no one had been around to slam it against his forehead.

  Chapter Seven

  Laurel folded the dishtowel, placed it on the counter, and then stared out the kitchen window toward the garage. There was no sense in rushing repairs on the apartment. The place wouldn’t be livable before Chase was through with renovations and moved on to somewhere new. He had allowed her to manipulate him, but how effective were her machinations? To her, it seemed as if she and Chase had danced some sort of strange dance and both ended up with what they had wanted, Chase moving into the main house.

  She closed her eyes and recalled every detail of their close encounter on the stairs. The fact Chase swore someone had pushed him bothered her, but not as much as the idea that he had wanted to kiss her and she had wanted to kiss him back.

  She sucked in a breath as she recalled slipping her arms around his waist. His muscles had tightened at the contact. She smiled. He had some very well defined muscles. She longed to wrap her arms around him one more time, just for the delicious luxury of embracing his strength again. There was no way she had imagined his typical male reaction to her nearness. Heat had sizzled between them.

  She had expected his skin to be weathered and rough when she rubbed the blood off his cheek with her thumb. But no. His cheek had been smoother than she expected. The whole time she was doctoring the wound on his forehead, she had held her breath and kept her eyes on applying ointment and bandages, hoping he wouldn’t detect the longing that had flamed in her heart.

  It was too soon after running away from her bad relationship with Rand to fall for another man. She didn’t trust her feelings. It might be a long time before she let herself fall again, yet she couldn’t deny her attraction to the stranger who had knocked on her door when she needed help the most.

  Getting too close to Chase was dangerous. Foolish. Stupid even. He had secrets he didn’t want to share with her, and to be fair she had secrets she didn’t want to tell him. She sensed what he wouldn’t tell her was potentially hazardous for both of them, but then her secrets were equally dangerous. Maybe it was time to tell him about Rand.

  How long would it be before Chase returned? She checked the lock on the back door, not once but twice. She had told him she would stay in the kitchen, but she wasn’t a scaredy cat. The house needed securing for the night, and there was no one else around to do what needed to be done. When he returned, he would knock on the back door, and she’d be waiting for him, just as she’d said.

  She squared her shoulders and pushed through the kitchen door into the front room. Evening had fallen and shrouded the house in darkness. Minimal light filtered through the long uncovered windows on either side of the front door. She leaned her forehead on the cold glass and peered into the night. The world outside appeared to be still and quiet. She shuddered and pulled back from the window, no longer brave enough to stare into the dark. With a sharp twist, she made sure the doo
r was locked.

  When she turned to head back toward the kitchen, dark shadows cast amorphous shapes across the floor and up the walls of the front room. Her skin prickled with apprehension. Someone was watching her. She glanced up and glimpsed movement on the darkened balcony overhead.

  Her heart faltered and then restarted with a jerky rhythm. “Who’s there?”

  She took one step at a time, trying hard not to run and give away her fear. Why hadn’t she turned on the lights when she entered the room? The switch was only a few feet away. When she flipped it on, dim lighting illuminated the front room and cast a faint glow up the stairway. She peered at the balcony, but detected nothing out of the ordinary in the shadows. That didn’t mean someone hadn’t been watching her. She wished she hadn’t left the bat in the kitchen.

  Hysteria was only another frightening thought away. Sometimes she feared one more difficult circumstance, one more unexplained incident would drive her over the edge into a full-blown panic attack.

  A knock shook the front door. She nearly peeled out of her skin. Chase couldn’t possibly have returned so soon, and he would have gone around to the back. She propped one hand on the nearest table to steady herself. Then louder pounding rattled the house.

  She took her time moving toward the door and leaned her head against the painted wood surface.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Lieutenant Grayson with the Hill County Sheriff’s Department. We talked once before.”

  She puffed out her cheeks, unsure if she should indulge in relief or not. His timing was either perfect or awful.

  “What do you want?”

  “Can I please come in? I have some questions I need to ask you, and I don’t want to yell them through the door.” His impatient tone seeped through the wood. He sounded as if he was reasoning with a two-year-old.

  She detested being talked down to, especially by pushy, irritating cops. She’d rather face the potential menace in her house than deal with the cop’s condescension.

  “What about?”

  “The man who was killed down the road.”