Laurel Heights (Haunted Hearts Series Book 1)

by Denise Moncrief

  He swallowed hard. “What you’re asking isn’t easy—”

  “I know.”

  What she wanted made no sense. The exact opposite of reason. She should be chasing him out of her house with the bat instead of asking him to sleep with her.

  He stretched out beside her, and she snuggled into him. He slipped his arm around her shoulder. Her breathing was already transitioning into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. The woman was either extremely brave or extremely foolish. She had no way of knowing whether or not he would keep his promise.

  He whispered his regret into her hair. “I’m sorry, Laurel. I wish we hadn’t met this way.”

  “Shhh...” She leaned her head on his shoulder and the soft waves of her hair cascaded across his chest.

  He hoped she wouldn’t come to her senses and kick his ragged butt out. He couldn’t leave her with Rand’s threat hanging over her, over both of them. Rand would consider Chase’s actions as a betrayal. When his brother realized Chase had taken Laurel’s side, Chase’s life would be in just as much danger as hers was.

  Rand was a vindictive son of a bitch. No, there was no way Chase was leaving Laurel alone to face Rand’s wrath. Maybe between the two of them, they could outsmart Rand and whomever he sent to harass her. She must have some clue as to who took the travel drive Rand wanted back in his possession so desperately. Maybe Chase could help her figure out who took it and get Rand out of her life forever.

  ****

  The clock read nearly three in the morning when Laurel glanced toward the nightstand. She’d fallen asleep almost immediately after Chase stretched out beside her and wrapped his arms around her, but her restless dreams had forced her eyes open. Chase’s arm was still across her shoulder, and hers lay across his stomach, just the way they were when she had closed her eyes.

  A new moon shone through the window that overlooked the garage, casting its glow across the floor, up the side of the bed, and over his face. She reached over to caress his cheek and then drew her hand back. What was she doing? She couldn’t afford to get mushy about the man. Not yet. She had to find out if he meant what he said. Just because he’d kissed her and she’d kissed him back didn’t mean his intentions were honest. She would have to watch him carefully for any sign that he was still deceiving her.

  When he revealed the reason he had come to her looking for a job, her first inclination had been to call 9-1-1, but she had tossed common sense aside and asked him to stay with her. What kind of twisted logic was that? On the surface, that decision might have appeared foolish, but she wanted him by her side so she’d know where he was. If she kicked him out, she’d have to worry about him breaking into her house and perhaps sneaking up on her when she least expected it. This way, she didn’t have to worry about what he was doing while she attempted to get some rest. A dangerous move, sure, but one that seemed right in the middle of the moment.

  Ever since she moved to Arkansas, she had been a very light sleeper. She would know if he rose from the bed. At least, she would know what was coming. If Chase intended to punish her on Rand’s behalf, nothing she could do would stop him short of getting Grayson involved in the situation. And maybe not even then. She trusted the cop even less than she trusted Chase. Grayson had an ulterior motive that had nothing to do with the crime he was investigating. The acrid aroma of deceit was a very familiar stench.

  Laurel inhaled just a hint of manly musk. Chase’s scent filled her sinuses. She snuggled closer into his side. How could she be sure of Chase or his motives? Once trust was broken, it was expensive to repair. She might be sleeping with the enemy.

  Chase scratched his butt and mumbled something. She sighed as she watched the up and down of his breathing. His shoulder hitched and then relaxed as he mumbled some more. She couldn’t catch his words, but he sounded angry and frightened. He appeared to be just as restless in his sleep as she was.

  The trouble with keeping him so close? She had enjoyed his kisses. Enjoyed them a lot. She wanted Chase to hold her, to comfort her, to be with her, to want her. More than anything, she needed him to keep his promise. Oh yes, she wanted him. Wanted him badly. She wanted to fall for him. She was already halfway there. If she could just trust him, she could let herself fall all the way.

  Her lids had been drooping, but then her eyes popped open. Why were there no nighttime noises? Why had they disappeared when Chase was in the same room? Interesting that the nocturnal symphony turned off when he was around. Could he be the one playing with her mind? Was his assertion that someone pushed him into her on the stairs just a ruse to confuse her about what was really happening in her house?

  Everything could be explained. The strange light was her cousin’s murderer hiding in the garage. The weight on her chest in the middle of the night was the onslaught of a panic attack. The sudden chill was the wind whipping through the drafty attic and pushing through the broken air conditioning ductwork. And the shove to the middle of Chase’s back? A lie.

  She stared at his face, slack with slumber. If he wanted to play games, then they would play games, but she would make the rules, and she would change them without notice. Keep him guessing what she would do or say next. Never be predictable. Let him think she was letting her guard down. Let him believe she was foolish enough to allow him into her bed just because he had kissed her.

  She was good at playing head games. Rand had taught her well. Game on. She closed her eyes and relaxed, finally drifting back to sleep when she was satisfied she had a plan for dealing with Chase.

  Chapter Nine

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee pulled Laurel toward the kitchen. When she pushed through the swinging kitchen door, she found Chase standing over the stove. She watched him awhile, drinking in the sight of his muscles flexing while he stirred something in the skillet. The man looked good in a tank top and athletic shorts. It was the first time she’d seen him in something other than a t-shirt and jeans.

  She grinned. That wasn’t what he was wearing when they went to bed last night. He had obviously showered and changed. The grin fell from her face. She hadn’t heard him rise from bed, and she had counted on being able to monitor his movements. He’d showered in her bath because the water in the other bathroom refused to come out of the showerhead without spewing brown water and making strange glugging sounds. Another repair she needed to put on the long list of things around Laurel Heights that needed fixing.

  Her mind was at the top of the list of things that needed repair. What was she thinking asking the man to stay with her last night?

  She cleared her throat, and he glanced her way.

  “Morning.” He’d left the good off the usual greeting. He didn’t sound cheery. In fact, he sounded grumpy.

  “Did you sleep well?” She was feeling somewhat rested.

  “You snore.” His response was dead serious.

  “You grumble in your sleep,” she countered.

  “You flail.”

  What did that mean?

  “You man scratch.”

  He scraped half of the scrambled eggs onto a plate and then pushed the remainder onto a second plate. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.” They were resorting to clipped small talk when she wanted him to reassure her he meant what he said the night before. “So... What do we do now?”

  “Well...” He dropped the skillet into the sink and turned on the faucet. A spit of steam hissed from the hot surface. “First, we eat breakfast. Then, I finish floating the drywall in the far guest bedroom and you finish painting the front room persimmon.”

  His face contorted into a look of faux disgust when he said the word persimmon. A tease radiated from his eyes. She relaxed. Maybe their morning after wouldn’t be so awkward after all.

  She placed a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Amusement wouldn’t set the correct tone. He was trying to direct their conversation away from the huge question mark that floated in the air between them, and she wasn’t willing for him to get by with the diversion.<
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  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” He set the plates on the table.

  “Thanks for fixing breakfast.”

  “We have to eat.”

  He offered her a thin smile, and she accepted it with relief. Maybe he wouldn’t be a grouch all day.

  He leaned on the table and puffed out his cheeks. “You still want to turn this place into a bed and breakfast, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me stay and finish the job.” He sighed and then glanced up, catching her eye and holding it. “I’ll stay in the room downstairs or I’ll stay upstairs with you. Whatever you want. Just...no sex.”

  His blunt declaration shocked her. “What?” She tried to sound indignant.

  Why? She wasn’t sure. Indignant because he assumed she would want to have sex with him or indignant because he was refusing her. Either way, his stance wasn’t very flattering.

  “I’m not having sex with you if you don’t trust me.” He moved around the table to face her, toe-to-toe. He actually sounded injured. “Last night was about me being there because you were too scared to sleep alone. Or maybe you just wanted to make sure you knew where I was, but I’m not stupid enough to think it was because you wanted me.” He smiled, but there was no light in his eyes. “I’m not sure why you kissed me—”

  “You kissed me first.”

  “You kissed me back.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “This is a very dangerous game you’re playing. I get it though. This isn’t about romance. It’s about making sure I’m here with you when trouble comes...and trouble is coming, baby. It’s just a matter of time.” He laughed. “I don’t get you. It’s as if you want me to hurt you. Do you have some sort of masochistic tendency? I don’t play those kinds of games.”

  She stepped back from him. “That’s... That’s...very insulting. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through—”

  “I know Rand, and I know you stayed with him for years. Why? Why would you stay with someone who had so little respect for you?”

  “Really? You’re going to throw that crap at me. This, coming from you of all people. Have you forgotten why you’re here, Chase?” The sight and smell of food turned her stomach. “I’m not hungry anymore. Just... Leave me alone.”

  She walked slowly toward the door, refusing to rush away in the midst of her humiliation. She was going to leave with her dignity intact. She slammed the flat of her hand against the smooth wood surface of the door and left him alone in the kitchen.

  ****

  Chase laid a length of tape along the joint and pressed until his upper arms screamed from the effort. He then slathered on some joint compound and used a straight edge to smooth the seam. Mindless work. The tedium should have kept his mind off his horrible confrontation with Laurel, but nothing could keep his impetuous words from replaying in his head over and over. He had told her exactly what he thought. When would he learn to keep the uncut version of his opinions to himself?

  He hadn’t been so careless in prison. Speaking his mind could have gotten him killed. Might still. Maybe his current situation was no different. If Laurel’s looks could have slaughtered him, he’d be dead. Her rebuke was harder to take than a stinging slap to the face.

  He didn’t get her. What thoughts ran through her mind when she asked him to stay with her even though she was afraid of him? Even though she clearly didn’t trust him? She had some twisted psychology going on, and he was inclined to blame Rand for that.

  His pay-as-you-go cell phone vibrated on his hip. When he read the display, he groaned. Rand’s timing was always inconvenient. Chase stood in the doorway and glanced both ways down the hall. Laurel was nowhere in sight. He moved back into the room, closed the door, and agreed to the collect call.

  “So have you got it?”

  Chase gritted his teeth. Not even a greeting from Rand before getting down to business.

  “I’ve searched the whole place. If she ever had it, she doesn’t have it anymore. If she knows who took it, she’s not telling.”

  They had to be careful not to say straight out what it was.

  “Did you tell her who you are?”

  “No.” Would Rand believe the lie? It hadn’t fallen so easily from his lips. “She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Rand laughed. “Is that what the bitch told you?” His laughter died, and the resulting silence was ominous.

  “She’s not a bitch, Rand. What’d you do to make her hate you?”

  “I didn’t do anything to her. What’d she tell you? That I beat her up or something?”

  The raucous chatter of other inmates in the background of the call filtered across the line. Rand didn’t have much longer to talk before one of the other prisoners would demand the phone.

  “She hasn’t told me anything. I’ve just listened to her the last few weeks—”

  “You’ve slept with her, haven’t you?” The rage in Rand’s voice assaulted Chase’s ears and filled him with dread. “She’s my woman and you can’t have her. No one can have her.”

  A long pause made Chase’s blood run cold.

  “You’re dead to me, Chase.”

  The call disconnected.

  ****

  Grayson sucked in a deep breath and entered Josh McCord’s work area. His space was neat and well organized. Unlike his house. Or at least what Gray remembered of Josh’s house.

  Evidence packets peeked out of a storage box. A computer blinked behind Josh, as the program tried to match a fingerprint to the database of prints on file. Gray’s ex-best friend glanced up from the microscope in front of him, blinked once, and returned his attention to what he had been doing before Grayson came in.

  “What do you want? The lab in Little Rock hasn’t returned my calls, so I don’t have any more to give you than the last time you asked.”

  Gray rubbed the back of his head and considered his next words carefully. With Josh, it was easy to say the wrong thing. “I was out at the Standridge place yesterday.”

  Josh slowly raised his head and turned to stare at Gray. “What were you doing out there?”

  Back when the two of them were inseparable buddies, they had often talked of investigating the old house for paranormal activity.

  “The body that woman ran over...” He left the end of his sentence dangling, offering the tantalizing tidbit up for bait just to see if Josh would bite.

  Josh’s eyes brightened with interest. “Yeah?”

  “The man was Celeste’s son, James.”

  “No way. I didn’t know the old bat had a son.”

  He flinched at Josh’s description of Celeste. Gray had spoken to the woman once or twice and believed that most people had labeled her unfairly. Celeste wasn’t crazy. Just lonely and depressed.

  “I’ve interviewed plenty of people who’ve seen him around town lately, but no one knew his name. No one knew he was Celeste’s son.”

  “Wouldn’t he have gone to school in Fairview?”

  “I couldn’t find any school records for him. She must have sent him away to boarding school or something. I certainly don’t remember him, and I know most everyone who ever lived in Hill County. Her lawyer told me she’d cut him out of her will, but old man Franklin wouldn’t tell me why.”

  Josh kept his gaze focused on Gray. Good. He had Josh’s undivided attention. He might get Josh’s cooperation if he worded things right and reeled him in at just the right speed.

  Josh’s mind seemed to churn awhile before he spit out his question. “That woman ran over him near Laurel Heights.”

  Gray nodded and waited for Josh’s mind to journey further down the right road.

  “Has someone been living in the house?”

  “Celeste’s niece inherited the place.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Josh leaned back in his chair and rubbed the fine stubble of red fuzz on his chin. “So Celeste leaves the house to her niece that nobody has ever heard of, right? And suddenly her son Ja
mes, that no one has ever heard of, is dead only a few hundred yards from her front door? Am I getting this straight?”

  Gray nodded.

  “Put the two things together and the man’s death seems kind of hinky.”

  “When I interviewed the niece, I asked her if she’d seen or heard anything unusual. She acted scared out of her mind, and the man living with her acted as if he didn’t want me asking questions.”

  Josh slid his chair back. “You’ve been in the house?”

  He could no longer restrain his enthusiasm. “It’s got the feel, Josh. There’s something going on in that house. Not just the garage, Josh. In the house too.”

  “Remember what old man Jenkins said after he quit working for Celeste.” He laughed. Excitement bubbled out of him. “He ran away from there screaming like a little girl.”

  Josh’s description of Jenkins’s behavior was an exaggeration. Gray recalled the incident. Jenkins wouldn’t talk about it, but he said he’d never set foot on the property again, said that strange things happened on the place at night.

  “He lived in the apartment over the garage.” Gray paused for effect. “Laurel...that’s the niece...said she saw a light moving around in the garage on the night her cousin died. Could have been the man who killed James Standridge...or it could have been something else.”

  “She named the place after her niece? That’s interesting.”

  “Laurel let me go into the garage.” Gray tossed the bomb out there to see if it exploded.

  Josh reacted just as Gray had hoped he would. Josh could hardly sit still. They’d always thought the locus of paranormal activity surrounding the place centered on the garage.

  “What’d you find?”

  “An old still.”

  “No way.”

  Gray smiled. The two of them hadn’t been this friendly in months. Even though the vibe between them seemed awkward, their mutual interest in Celeste Standridge and Laurel Heights reminded Gray of old times.

  “Anyway, I’m kind of suspicious of the handyman Laurel Standridge hired. He acts weird. I wanted him to look at the crime scene photo of James Standridge, but he didn’t want to touch it. I finally shoved it at him, and he left a nice fat thumbprint on the front.”