Grave Wrong (Lost Souls Society Book 1)

by Kate Allenton

  “Come with me.” Ryley gestured with her head toward the other end of the bar. She leaned into Kent’s ear and whispered. “No matter how much yelling you hear, I’m fine.”

  Kent’s brows dipped, and she patted his arm.

  The newcomer slid off the seat and followed Ryley down the hall and into the storage room. She shut the door and leaned against the wood.

  “Okay, take your shirt off.”

  “Excuse me?” the man asked.

  “You’re here for the male review audition, right?” Ryley said.

  The man’s eyes widened.

  Ryley grinned and waved her hand. “I’m just teasing. I know why you’re here, but I’m still going to need you to take off your shirt.”

  His brows dipped, but there was a light in his eyes and humor at the edge of his lips. “Okay.”

  He lifted the fabric over his head. The tattoos that had peeked down his arm covered his shoulder in a hypnotic design.

  Ryley licked her lips.

  “What now?” he asked.

  She took him by the arm and slowly turned him, checking out his ass before stepping back. “My brother was right. You’re not a killer.”

  The man slid back into his shirt. “If you thought I was a killer, why did you bring me into this tiny room?”

  Ryley lifted her gaze to the man’s face again and met his stare. “I had to be sure before I help you.”

  “Listen—”

  She held up her hand, stopping whatever he was about to say. “I was going to suggest you meet me at my place tonight, but I have other plans tonight and tomorrow. How about the day after?”

  The man rested his hands on his hips. “Exactly who do you think I am?”

  “Logan Bane.”

  The man’s eye twitched when he pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. “Sorry to disappoint doll, but I’m Detective Jake Crews. I believe you saw my mother today.”

  “Oh, right. The cop who doesn’t believe in stalkerish ghosts. That’s a shame.” Ryley slowly glanced down his body and back up. “You had potential.”

  “You’re the psychic she told about the ghost,” Jake asked, stepping into Ryley’s space.

  “Yeah. She wants me to fix this for her.” And though this would be her first time trying to deal with a stalking ghost, Ryley was up for the challenge. She just prayed she wouldn’t get caught in any potential crossfire, and that the black cloud of faces didn’t decide to arrive at the worst possible moment while she was helping the ghost into the light.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. “How much did she give you?”

  Ryley’s brows dipped, and she grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. “I think we’re done here.”

  “Lady, if you took money from her, I’ll make it my mission in life to make yours miserable.”

  Interest mixing with something stronger slid through Ryley’s body. Her lips twisted at the corner. “Stronger men have tried and failed.” She nudged his shoulder as she moved past him. “Good luck with that.”

  She walked out of the backroom and back up to the bar and slid behind it. Kent’s worried gaze held hers as she approached. “The guy at the end of the bar is asking for you.”

  “Two in one day. I must be getting popular.” Ryley glanced around Kent to find another good-looking man at the end of the bar, only this one looked like ten times more trouble than the last. “Thanks.”

  She approached the end of the bar when Detective Crews stopped. The man rose, and they stood in each other’s face.

  “Crews,” the man growled.

  “Bane,” the detective answered.

  “Oh well, you know each other. Perfect.” Ryley smiled at Crews. “If I end up dead, this will help you solve the case, Detective Crews. You’ll know where to look.” Ryley gestured with her pointer finger giving Bane the gesture to follow her with a wink of her eye. “Come on, killer. I have a small room I want to introduce you to.”

  Crew’s frown deepened.

  “Looks like my night just got a lot more interesting.” Bane grinned in passing. “Don’t worry. You’re leaving her in good hands.”

  Ryley ignored them both and headed for the storage room again.

  This time she didn’t bother shutting the door. Bane stepped inside. His gaze darted around the supplies before settling on her. His face softened. “Men like Crews are users.”

  “I don’t recall asking for advice,” Ryley said.

  Bane shut the door. “It was free, and the least I could do for the person who’s going to help clear my name.”

  “Assuming you can be helped,” Ryley held up her hands for him to see. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to pat you down to make sure you aren’t carrying a weapon or wearing a wire. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been screwed over before.”

  Bane’s lips twisted higher. “Did you pat down Crews?”

  Ryley rolled her eyes. “I made him take off his shirt.”

  “Oh, well, then it’s only fair you give me the same thorough search.” Bane reached for the material behind his neck and had it pulled off his body in one swell swoop.

  Bane was sculpted and obviously didn’t miss a day at the gym. He had a tattoo on his arm that was identical to the one Crew’s bore. Had they been friends at one time? Maybe in the same military unit.

  Bane followed her eyesight. “Let me guess, the second time you’ve seen that today.”

  She grinned. “Yep. You two must be friends.”

  “We’re still best friends, can’t you tell?” Bane said.

  Her eyes drifted down, landed on the purple bruise on his ribs. “What happened there? A friendly punch?”

  “Lucky shot,” Bane answered.

  She lowered her gaze to the tattoo on his side that slid down into his jeans.

  Bane lifted a brow and reached for the button on his jeans. “Just say the word, babe, and I’ll show you that one, too.”

  “I’ve had a long day and have an even longer night ahead of me. So, don’t bother flirting. You aren’t getting lucky.”

  Bane chuckled as he slid his shirt back over his head. “You’re an interesting little thing. I can see why Crews is into you.”

  “He’s not.” Ryley cleared her throat. “So, my brother claims you’re innocent. Is that true?”

  “Innocent enough of the crime they’re trying to pin on me.” He shrugged and winked.

  There were no attached spirits around him to tell her one way or another, but her gut said she could trust him. His spirit wasn’t white and light like most, but it wasn’t dark like the creepy crawlies either. This guy walked the line, similar to Ryley.

  He wasn’t completely innocent of all crimes like he said, but he was probably innocent of the one they were trying to pin on him. Something told her that Bane was smart enough not to leave any evidence behind if he were truly the one responsible.

  “Fine,” she said and tilted her head. “I’ll need a grand upfront.”

  “A grand,” he asked with dipped brows. “I can go see any psychic over in the arts district and pay two hundred dollars at most.”

  “Great. Go see them.” Ryley pulled the door open.

  Bane reached for his wallet and pulled out ten crisp hundreds.

  She didn’t even want to know how he made his money.

  “And what guarantees do I get?”

  “If I can’t connect and get you what you need, then you get a refund. Fair and square.” Ryley slipped the money into her bra.

  His gaze followed the movement and dropped to her breast, and heat flared in his eyes. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  “I work alone.” She stepped around him.

  “You won’t know what questions to ask. Trust me. You’ll want me there,” Bane said.

  “Fine, whatever. I can’t start on it tonight or tomorrow night. I’ve already got plans, but Sunday.”

  “Plans with Crews?”

  A Crews, just not the one he knew. Not that she was about to tell him that.
“I have another ghost I’m trying to exorcise. What can I say? I’m a busy girl, and this world is just full of evil.”

  Chapter 8

  Ryley stared at the traditional style one-story house. There was no security guard or fence around the property. Nothing about this house screamed a doctor from old-money lived inside.

  Rose bushes lined the front of the home, the delicate aroma teased Ryley’s nose. The roof looked brand new, not a single missing or worn out shingle. The yard was freshly cut. A spattering of pine trees and bushes separated the neighbors on each side, creating an illusion of privacy.

  The neighbors’ homes were just far enough away that Rosalind wouldn’t be bothered, but close enough to know if something serious went wrong, that she wasn’t quite alone.

  It would be easy for someone to sneak up on the place.

  Stone steps led the way up onto a porch lined with a white spindle railing. A cherry red door accented the dark bricks. A welcome mat lay on the floor and a wreath hung on the door.

  A large bay window stood front and center, flanked by two sets of window encasements with black shutters. None were missing screens. The flower beds lacked footprints. The motion sensor security light flicked on when Ryley stepped closer.

  If someone was sneaking in, they weren’t getting in this way.

  She’d learned a thing or two from her daddy at a young age. Casing houses was just part of her illegal education.

  Ryley bypassed the door and rounded the house. Moonlight glistened off a lake in the distance where its dark waters lapped against the shore and a boat attached to a wooden dock. Crickets chirped, and frogs croaked in the distance. Grass choked the shoreline waving in the wind. Anyone could have rowed up to the property or approached along the shore.

  It gave off a serene appearance, mesmerizing and haunting, but all Ryley could think about was the dangers lurking beneath that dark water. She shivered.

  A large back porch jutted out from the house. Ryley could imagine Rosalind sitting on the padded patio furniture and sipping her morning coffee while watching the sunrise.

  The locked French doors had blinds that covered the glass, obstructing any intruder's view. Ryley continued around the perimeter and returned to the front of the house and onto the porch. Not a single footprint or broken screen to be found. She lifted the mat, glad to see no key hidden beneath. She shoved to her feet and took Rosalind’s spare key out of her pocket and reached for the knob.

  Crack

  She froze, staring out into the darkness, straining for any more sounds. Was it just a branch breaking? Had someone stepped on it?

  Her eyes raked the woods. The key in her hand dug into her palm, the door and safety within reach.

  She waited for a heartbeat, listening for another sound before dismissing any viable threat. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside.

  The alarm box next to the door beeped in succession, demanding her attention. She typed in the security code and hit Enter before closing the door and locking it back into place.

  A stained-glass window above the door and skylight in the high ceiling cast the hardwood floors and furnishings in a moonlit glow. A table in the foyer entry held a vase with roses. The ran her finger over the petals in passing. A cream-colored couch and matching loveseat filled the living room, along with dark wood tables inlaid with colorful tile.

  An empty cup sat on a coaster next to the couch. Rosalind’s lipstick stained the rim of the mug. The same shade she’d been wearing in the bar.

  The house was eerily quiet as Ryley turned in place. A bar separated the living room and kitchen. The hum of the fridge was her only companion as she walked into the kitchen. Everything was shiny and in its place, including the butcher knives in the block. Another coffee cup sat in the sink. This one lacked the lipstick stain.

  She walked down the hall to find a master bedroom and bath. Suits like the one Rosalind had been wearing earlier filled the closet. A jewelry box sat on the dresser. She peeked inside. All the jewelry inside was understated, just like what Rosalind had worn during Ryley’s appointments.

  Matching guest rooms with separate bathrooms sat at the end of the hall, with another bathroom in the hallway for visitors.

  The rooms lacked personal items to suggest that anyone stayed in them. The closets were empty, save blankets and linens, and extra towels. The bathrooms were clean and tidy, with travel-sized soaps in a dish.

  The house looked exactly opposite of what she had imagined it might. She’d expected a more lived-in place. Maybe even room for a grandkid or two by now.

  It remained empty and unused. Stale.

  A home office had another feel altogether. The scent of tobacco smacked her in the face out of nowhere—the familiar scent reminded her of her father. She hadn’t spotted a single ashtray anywhere in the house. Likely a spirit was attempting to make his presence known.

  The dark mahogany bookshelves were lined with academic books along with several shelves dedicated to mysteries and the occult. Ryley grinned.

  She’d been the one to suggest those books when trying to get Rosalind to believe her ability to see ghosts. None of the spines even looked cracked.

  She walked behind the desk and plopped into the leather chair. A long sofa sat across the room with a folded blanket laying over the edge, as if maybe Rosalind treated patients in her home. Rosalind was far too smart to bring a crazy person into her personal space. Well, not counting Ryley.

  The desktop was free of clutter. A few files sat in the inbox with patients’ names. The desk calendar was penned with first names only and numbers written beneath, along with some interesting little doodles around the edges.

  Had Ryley’s name once been scrawled on a similar calendar from over a decade ago?

  She picked up a silver-framed picture sitting in the corner. A much younger Rosalind wearing a dress posed with two young children. Happiness radiated from their faces. Ryley held the photo closer and recognized the same dimple she’d seen just hours ago on Rosalind’s son. Rosalind’s kids.

  She dropped her gaze to the desk drawers. What exactly did shrinks keep at home away from prying eyes? She reached for the drawer to take a peek when a clinking noise from the hallway broke the silence.

  “What the…” Ryley hunched her shoulders up around her ears, rooted to the spot in front of the desk.

  Had she heard that? Was all the silence toying with her?

  She abandoned her need to get in the drawers and sat up, staring into the hallway, straining to listen.

  Seconds ticked by without an encore. “Probably just the house settling.”

  She resumed her task at the drawer when a knocking sounded inside the house. There was no denying that noise.

  She stood from her spot and grabbed the Taser from her purse. It whined quietly when she turned it on.

  “Hello,” she called out and inched toward the hallway. “I’m armed.”

  She got to the hallway and looked both ways, listening for the sound again. The scent of tobacco was stronger. More potent. Almost as if a cigar had been lit by someone standing right next to her. Many times, people being haunted reported smelling the ghost before seeing them. Ryley was pretty sure she didn’t want to see a ghost at the moment.

  The hall light flickered before going out, leaving the light from the office the only illumination. Chills skirted down her spine. The sound of a dog howling somewhere outside wound her nerves tight.

  “You don’t scare me!” she yelled, fighting to calm her racing heart.

  A breeze plowed by, blowing her hair and chilling her to the bone. She spun with it toward the end of the hall, towards Rosalind’s bedroom.

  The stun gun in her hand would be useless against a spirit.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she sang out. Her gaze searched through the darkness.

  A door slam at the end of the hall had her feet moving. Most people would be running out the front door. She wasn’t most people. She threw the door open and
flicked on the light switch.

  Rosalind’s bedroom was empty, as was her bathroom and closet.

  “Listen, I can hear you and see you. That’s why I’m here, so why don’t you come out and tell me why you’re stalking Dr. Crews. I can help you move on.”

  Her hair moved on a breeze seconds before the bedroom door slammed shut behind her, making her jump.

  “You’re a salty bugger,” she called out.

  The door flung open, and instead of the pissed off ghost she’d expected to see, she found the barrel end of Detective Jake Crew’s gun. “And you’re trespassing.”

  Chapter 9

  “Drop the weapon and put your hands on your head.”

  “Detective Crews, we both know that I’m here because your mother asked me to be.” She turned off the stun gun and dropped it on the bed before resting her hands on her head.

  “Funny,” he said, spinning her around, He took one hand and then the other and cuffed them behind her back. “She said you told her to stay someplace else just in case. Why is that? Did you want the house to yourself to set up some parlor tricks?”

  He yanked her through the house and out the front door to where his car was parked.

  “You’re making a mistake,” she said.

  He opened the passenger door and helped her inside. “The only mistake I made was not arresting you earlier.”

  “On what grounds? Last I checked, talking to your mom wasn’t illegal, and what about you. Are you stalking me? You approached me in the bar, and now this?”

  He slammed the door cutting off her words.

  She waited until he climbed in on the other side and started the car. “Imagine what this is going to look like when you call your mom, and she verifies that I had permission to be there. How upset do you think she’s going to be with her only son?”

  He glanced at her and grinned. “She’ll get over it.”

  “Fine.” She sat back and turned to the window. “Don’t be surprised when she dis-invites you to Sunday dinner and invites me instead.”

  “Listen, lady, I don’t know what con your running, but it stops here and now.”