Ghost Hunter

by Paige Tyler

  Ghost Hunter

  Paige Tyler

  Blush sensuality level: This is a sensual romance (may have explicit love scenes, but not erotic in frequency or type).

  Almost getting murdered by a serial killer gives Cassidy Kincaide a new lease on life and convinces her to get to work on that paranormal romance novel she’s always wanted to write. She hooks up with gorgeous paranormal investigator and ghost hunter Trace McCord to do some research.

  Cassidy and Trace rub each other the wrong way right from the beginning, but they have to put aside their differences when the serial killer who attacked her comes back from the grave to continue his string of grisly murders—with Cassidy at the top of his list.

  Trace has to keep her close to keep her safe, and as they try to stay one step ahead of the murderous ghost while figuring out how to stop it, he and Cassidy end up in each other’s arms. Now all they have to do is live long enough to enjoy their happily-ever-after.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Ghost Hunter

  ISBN 9781419933646

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Ghost Hunter Copyright © 2011 Paige Tyler

  Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication March 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Ghost Hunter

  Paige Tyler

  Dedication

  With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband, without whose help and support I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for! Thank you for talking me into finally taking the plunge and submitting to Ellora’s Cave.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Blackhawk: Honda Corporation

  Cosmo: Hearst Communications, Inc.

  craigslist: craigslist, Inc.

  Formica: The Diller Corporation

  Ghostbusters: Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc.

  Google: Google, Inc.

  Hummer: General Motors Corporation

  iPhone: Apple, Inc.

  iPod: Apple, Inc.

  Twilight Zone: CBS Broadcasting Inc.

  X-Files: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

  Yahoo: Yahoo, Inc.

  Prologue

  “What’ll it be? Chinese or Thai?”

  Cassidy Kincaide looked up from the pile of mail she was flipping through to see her roommate Darcy Warren holding up two takeout menus.

  Cassidy tossed the mail on the table in the entryway and walked into the kitchen. “Why don’t we go out for dinner instead?”

  Darcy frowned, but didn’t answer. Since dumping her asshole boyfriend two weeks ago, she hadn’t left the apartment for anything except to go to work and back. But that was going to change tonight. Cassidy was getting Darcy out of their apartment if she had to drag her kicking and screaming.

  “Come on, Darcy. After the past couple of weeks, we could both use a night out. We can go to Jimmy’s Bar and Grill and flirt with the hot waiters. Maybe even check out a club afterward. How about it?”

  Darcy still didn’t say anything, but Cassidy could tell from the thoughtful way her roommate was chewing on her lower lip that she was wavering. The hunky waiters at Jimmy’s could do that to a girl. Before Darcy could answer, though, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” she said, hurrying past Cassidy and over to the door.

  “Saved by the bell,” Cassidy muttered as Darcy put her eye to the peephole.

  Instead of opening the door, though, the other woman jerked back, panic on her face.

  “Oh, God. It’s Carson.”

  Cassidy tensed at the name. Carson Del Vecchio was Darcy’s ex-boyfriend. While he had seemed nice enough when they started going out, after a few months he’d become both possessive and abusive. Cassidy would have dumped him right away, but Darcy made excuses for his behavior, saying he was stressed or having a hard time at work. After the creep had grabbed Darcy’s wrist hard enough to give her a bruise, Cassidy finally convinced her to kick his ass to the curb. Unfortunately, the jerk hadn’t taken the breakup well and had been stalking Darcy ever since. Cassidy was beginning to think her friend was going to have to get a restraining order against the guy.

  Thinking maybe Del Vecchio would leave if he thought they weren’t home, Cassidy put a finger to her lips, indicating to Darcy they should be quiet. The ploy didn’t work, though, and after a moment, Darcy’s ex-boyfriend banged on the door.

  “Open the door, Darcy! I know you’re in there.”

  Cassidy gave the other woman a quick shake of her head, silently telling her roommate to keep quiet. “I’ll get rid of him.” She walked over to the door, but didn’t open it. “Darcy isn’t here.”

  “Bullshit! I saw her come home,” Del Vecchio said. “Now, let me in.”

  “Go away, Carson.”

  On the other side of the door, he muttered something Cassidy couldn’t make out. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “Look Cassidy, I just want to talk to her.”

  “Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  Silence met her words and for a moment Cassidy thought Del Vecchio had left, but when she put her eye to the peephole to check, she saw him still standing in the hallway, a determined look on his face. Crap.

  “Come on Cassidy. Just let me in so I can talk to Darcy. It’ll only take a minute.”

  Cassidy clenched her jaw. What part of go away didn’t that jerk understand? Before she even realized what she was doing, she grabbed the knob and yanked open the door.

  “I told you, Darcy doesn’t want to talk—”

  Del Vecchio didn’t let her finish. Instead, he grabbed her arm and shoved her back from the doorway. Cassidy barely had time to wonder what the hell he was doing, much less open her mouth to ask, when he lifted a knife and plunged it into her chest. She heard a scream, but didn’t know if it came from her or Darcy. All she could focus on was the white hot pain searing through her body.

  As suddenly as he’d attacked her, Del Vecchio yanked out the knife and threw her to the floor. Cassidy landed hard on her left shoulder, but the discomfort that came with it was nothing compared to the agony in her chest. She pressed her hand to the place where the knife had been, hoping to stop the pain along with the flow of blood, but it didn’t do much good, at least not when it came to the pain part of the equation. It hurt so much she thought she mi
ght throw up.

  From somewhere, an anguished cry of terror pierced her suddenly fuzzy consciousness. Darcy.

  Gritting her teeth against the pain, Cassidy pushed herself up on her elbow and looked around for the other woman. Darcy was on the floor, Del Vecchio crouching down beside her, the knife to her throat. He ripped open Darcy’s blouse and drew the blade down her chest, leaving a trail of blood. Darcy opened her mouth to scream, but Del Vecchio put his hand over her mouth, silencing her.

  Cassidy squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch. She had to get help or that bastard was going to kill both of them.

  Ignoring the blackness threatening to engulf her, Cassidy dug in the pocket of her jeans for her cell phone. Gritting her teeth against the pain in her chest, she pulled it out and dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  Cassidy opened her mouth, but all that came out was a groan.

  “Hello?” the woman said. “Is someone there?”

  Cassidy swallowed hard and tried again. “Help me…he’s trying to kill…”

  That was all she could manage before the words ended in fit of coughing. Blood filled her mouth and she cringed at the metallic taste.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am, if you can hear me, say something.”

  But all Cassidy could do was lie there. As she stared up at the ceiling, it occurred to her that except for the voice coming from the phone, the apartment was eerily quiet. Cassidy turned her head to see Darcy lying in a pool of blood, staring back at her with unseeing eyes.

  Tears welled in Cassidy’s eyes and she choked back a sob. Del Vecchio spun around to look at her, blood dripping from the knife in his hand. His lip curled into a sneer.

  “I’ll be damned. I thought for sure you were already dead. I’m glad you’re not. It means I get to give you some payback for all your fucking interference.”

  Snickering, he wiped the knife on his pant leg and started toward her.

  Blood pounding in her ears, Cassidy dragged herself across the floor. She expected Del Vecchio to catch up with her within a few feet, but when she looked over her shoulder, she found him following at a leisurely pace. He was toying with her, the sick bastard.

  Stifling another sob, Cassidy turned back around and crawled toward the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. There was nowhere to go out there except fifteen floors down, but it was too late to change direction now. Besides, she might be able to scream for help. Of course, by the time someone came to her rescue, she would probably be dead.

  Stop it, she told herself. You’re going to get out of this alive.

  Cassidy repeated that over and over in her head as she inched the rest of the way to the sliding door. Using the handle for leverage, she slowly pulled herself to her feet. She closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t pass out as everything went black around her. When she opened them again, she saw Del Vecchio’s reflection coming closer in the glass and she fumbled desperately with the latch. It unlocked easily, but she had to put all her weight into the door to push it open. Dammit, she was so weak.

  She staggered onto the balcony, but didn’t get more than a few steps before Del Vecchio grasped her arm and roughly spun her around, slamming her back against the stone wall.

  “Where the hell did you think you were going to go out here, bitch?”

  She stared into Del Vecchio’s soulless eyes, wondering if he would take pity on her and kill her quickly. But from the evil grin he gave her as he pressed the knife to her throat, she knew he was going to make her death as painful as he had undoubtedly made Darcy’s.

  The image of her roommate lying in a pool of blood fueled Cassidy’s determination and she raked her nails across Del Vecchio’s face with a cry of frustration. He swore, his hand going to his eye even as blood ran down his face. Seizing the opportunity, Cassidy shoved him away from her as hard as she could. He stumbled back, arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance, but he slipped anyway, and she watched in shock as he tumbled backward over the railing with a terrified yell.

  Cassidy wanted to check to make sure Del Vecchio had fallen to his death and wasn’t hanging from the railing waiting to pull himself up so he could come after her again, but she didn’t trust her trembling legs anywhere near the edge. Weak and trembling, she turned and stumbled back into her apartment.

  She barely made it inside the door before collapsing. She lay there, willing herself to move, but nothing on her body seemed to work. It was all she could do to breathe. Even that seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. She thought about simply closing her eyes and giving up, but then she caught sight of Darcy’s body and knew she didn’t want to die. She forced herself to take one more breath, then another one after that. And another. And another.

  The next thing she knew, two EMTs were leaning over her.

  “She’s coming to,” one of them said. He leaned closer, his voice reassuring. “You’re going to be okay. Just hang on.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn’t speak. Suddenly, she couldn’t seem to get enough air. The more she struggled, the harder it was to breathe.

  “Shit, we’re losing her.” The EMT leaned closer. “Stay with me. Just stay with me.”

  Cassidy tried, but the darkness that had threatened to engulf her earlier was too strong to fight anymore and she finally gave in and let it take her.

  Chapter One

  Five Weeks Later

  Cassidy bolted upright in bed, her screams echoing in the small room. She sat there trembling, her breath coming in huge gasps. She swallowed hard and winced when she felt how raw her throat was. Damn nightmares. The psychiatrist at the hospital assured her they were normal after such a traumatic event and would go away with time. She wasn’t so sure, not when she saw Carson Del Vecchio’s evil face every time she closed her eyes.

  A shiver ran down her back at the memory of that bastard and what he had done. To her, and to Darcy. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe her roommate was gone. She kept expecting to wake up and find it had all been a horrible nightmare.

  Blinking back tears, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was a little after five in the morning. She wondered if she should try to go back to sleep, but then decided not to bother. She’d just end up staring at the ceiling and thinking about Darcy. Or Del Vecchio. It would be better to get up and do something.

  With a sigh, Cassidy pushed back the blanket and got out of bed, then padded barefoot toward the adjoining bathroom, only to nearly end up in the walk-in closet instead. After three days, she still couldn’t remember the layout of her friend Jennifer’s apartment.

  In the bathroom, she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the vanity with a frown. Her long, blonde hair was a wild tangle and there were dark circles under her blue eyes. God, she looked like crap.

  Hoping a shower would help, Cassidy stripped off her tank top and panties and stepped into the tub. Glancing in the mirror as she toweled off afterward, she was glad to see the dark circles under her eyes had almost completely disappeared. With the help of a little makeup and a straight iron, no one would ever know she’d spent the night tossing and turning.

  Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she walked into the kitchen a little while later to find a note waiting for her on the table.

  Cassidy,

  One of the flight attendants on the London route got sick, so I’m going to fill in. I’ll be gone for a few days, maybe more. I would have woken you before I left, but you looked like you were finally getting some sleep. I’ll call you as often as I can, but if you get lonely, call Lisa or Brandy and have them come stay with you.

  Jennifer

  Cassidy groaned. One of the other flight attendants got sick. Sure. More likely, Jennifer had asked for some overtime to get away from her and her nightmares. Not that Cassidy could blame her. She wanted to get away from them herself.

  Dropping the note back on the table, she made some oatmeal and stuck it in the mi
crowave, then checked her email. Even though she’d talked to her parents on the phone last night, there was one from her mom, as well as her older sister. Cassidy shook her head. If her family had their way, she’d have moved back to Maine after what happened with Del Vecchio. Sighing, she quickly sent replies to her mother and sister, letting them know she was fine and didn’t need them to come stay with her. Although she loved them for their concern, her home was in Stamford now and it had been since she’d moved there to go to college twelve years ago. She might be a little traumatized after what Del Vecchio did to her, but that bastard hadn’t succeeded in taking her life from her that night and she wasn’t going to let him take it from her now.

  In fact, living through the attack had made her reevaluate her life. Coming so close to death made her think about all the things she’d wanted to do after college, but hadn’t, and she promised herself she wasn’t going to put them off any longer. The moment she had been able to sit up in her hospital bed, she’d made a list of five things she wanted to do, and the number one thing on it was to get to work on that romance novel she’d always dreamed of writing.

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she set it down on the table along with the oatmeal so she could have breakfast while she worked on her book.

  Writing was something she’d wanted to do since she was in high school, but things kept getting in the way of doing it, like her job as a guidance counselor at a private school there in Stamford. Helping teenagers decide what to do with their lives was more mentally exhausting than she’d thought, and most nights she was so tired all she had the energy for was curling up on the couch in front of the television.

  Since she was on convalescent leave from work for a couple more weeks, however, she had no more excuses. She was going to write that novel and nothing was going to stop her.