Laurel Heights (Haunted Hearts Series Book 1)

by Denise Moncrief

  Grayson paused the machine. “What does that sound like to you, Laurel?”

  “I don’t know. It’s kind of indistinct. Might be a word spoken over and over again. With an E on the end.”

  “Play it again. Turn up the volume a little,” Chase suggested.

  The static jumped out of the device at them, assaulting Laurel’s eardrums. The steady buzz changed to a now familiar rhythm.

  She caught her breath. “I think she’s saying baby.”

  Grayson allowed the recorder to continue playback. His voice broke the static every few seconds asking another question.

  “Are you angry that Laurel Standridge has moved into the house?”

  The chant changed once again. Distinct and unmistakable. Tell Laurel... My baby. Tell Laurel... My baby.

  Grayson jabbed at the play button, stopping the feedback.

  “That was when everything went crazy. Whatever was in the garage that wasn’t heavy or tied down lifted up and swirled around us.” He cleared his throat. “Freakiest thing I’ve ever lived through.”

  Laurel grabbed Chase’s forearm. She needed to feel his skin beneath her fingers. Needed to know he was real. That what she was living wasn’t a dream or her imagination, because she’d either dreamed or imagined the voice a dozen or so times since she’d moved to Laurel Heights. She’d blown it off as just a nightmare. But now? So much of what she had believed was tilting and morphing into new fears.

  She stared into Grayson’s very blue eyes. “That’s not my mother’s voice.”

  “How can you tell? That recording is really, really rough. That could be anybody’s voice,” Chase sputtered.

  Why was he so upset? Did he hate having to question his predisposed beliefs? They’d both proclaimed loudly and strongly that they didn’t believe in the paranormal, but how else could such a recording be explained?

  She wiped a tear from her eye. From the bottom of her heart and down in her very soul, she knew her world was about to be shattered all over again.

  “I know it’s not my mother’s voice. She had a certain way of saying my name that was unmistakable because she had a speech impediment. It always sounded more like Law-wuhl than Laurel.”

  Understanding spread across Grayson’s face. An unexpected expression of decency and humanity from the cop.

  “I wasn’t going to tell you this until I had more information, but I suspect that Burt and Mary Standridge aren’t your biological parents.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Have you ever studied your birth certificate? Is there anything missing? Blank spaces that should be filled in but aren’t? Do you know for certain where you were born?”

  He was bombarding her with questions she was suddenly afraid to answer.

  “Well...I know I was born in Arkansas because my parents were from here, and my mother told me we moved to California when I was very young.”

  “Your birth certificate is an amended certificate. When I inquired about the original, I was told it had been sealed by court order.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Grayson drew in a breath. Waited a heartbeat. Then blew her world to smithereens.

  “It probably means you were adopted.”

  She shoved her chair back and jumped to her feet. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  Grayson rose as well. “I need to search your house—”

  “I need time to absorb this shock. You can search my house after I leave. Right now, I need Chase to fix the sink in the spare bathroom so we can turn on the water again. I need a shower and a good long nap. I’m exhausted and I need some rest before I pack my bags and get out of here. Whatever or whoever is here knows too much about me.”

  McCord inserted his thoughts into the tense atmosphere. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the recording?”

  Grayson tossed him a mean glare. Laurel got the feeling that McCord was sometimes hard for Grayson to control.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I can listen to anymore—”

  The device glowed and then played without any help from Grayson. Four pairs of eyes riveted to the recorder.

  “Do you want Laurel Standridge to leave Laurel Heights?” Grayson’s question seemed muted and surreal.

  As if from an eerie other worldly distance came the answer. Tell her... Indistinct muttering that might have been a voice. Leave my baby alone.

  Then, the recording stopped abruptly. A snap, crackle, and pop followed. Grayson pushed the play button once again, but the device was deader than dead.

  Chapter Twenty

  As the hot water cascaded over her tired body, Laurel’s mind had sorted through all the weird things that had happened since she moved to Arkansas. It was becoming a rather long list. Laurel turned off first the hot tap and then the cold and reached outside the curtain to grab her towel. The door swished open, and a rush of cold air ruffled the shower curtain and crossed her body.

  “Chase?”

  She peeked around the curtain. The room was empty, the door ajar.

  She stepped out of the shower, wrapped the large bright pink bath towel around her, pulled the door shut, and picked up a hand towel to wipe the condensation from the mirror.

  Her hand stopped mid-action before the cloth touched the glass. A message was scrawled in the moisture. I know you know. The same words Rand had uttered before he had nearly beaten her to death. His mantra when he was trying to have her committed. He’d used the phrase often to trigger her panic attacks. How would anyone besides Rand know what those four words could do to her?

  Had whomever Rand sent to harass her come into her bathroom while she was naked, wet, and vulnerable? Had Rand told someone how he had tried to take her sanity? The trigger words raced through her mind over and over. I know you know. I know you know.

  Everything hit her all at once. The shock of finding out she might have been adopted. The sinking feeling that Sam Richards was sneaking around her house while she tried to sleep. The disturbing thought that a ghost might be trying to protect her from her adopted family. Layer on top of all that the very real possibility that Rand had sent someone new to steal her sanity because killing her outright wasn’t quite good enough revenge for Rand Peterson.

  She’d kept it together too long. So much crowded her tired, overwrought psyche. Her head felt as if it might burst from the thoughts zooming through it. She couldn’t have stopped the scream that erupted if she’d tried.

  Chase exploded into the room. She was shaking so violently, the towel began to slip. He grabbed her robe from the hook on the door and wrapped it around her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He tucked a clump of wet hair behind her ear.

  She gulped in a deep breath, pressing her hand against her chest and trying hard to calm her escalating hysteria.

  “Look.” Her voice cracked as she pointed toward the mirror.

  “Look at what?”

  “It’s gone.” Her near hysteria was replaced with disbelief. “There was something written on the mirror. It was there. I saw it.”

  Chase peered at the steamed up glass. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Don’t say it was my imagination. That’s what Rand said when…” She stopped, horrified that she had been about to let something so humiliating slip.

  She hadn’t wanted to tell Chase about Rand’s attempt to have her committed for psychiatric evaluation. She’d almost let it slip once before. Chase’s mouth moved, but she cut him off before he could say anything and pushed her hand against his chest.

  “Don’t call me crazy.”

  “I would never call you crazy.” His voice was low, soft, and soothing.

  He reached out, hesitated for a split second, and then stroked her hair, tentatively at first, as if he was afraid she’d bite the hand that comforted her.

  “They said I was delusional, but I can tell what’s real and what’s not.” It seemed to her that her defense sounded less than convincing. “Somebody k
nows about my past and knows about the ghost stories, so he’s pulling pranks on me to freak me out. But ha ha. Whoever is doing this doesn’t know there’s a real ghost here scaring the sanity out of me. How’s that for ironic?”

  Chase attempted to embrace her again, but she stepped back and his arms dropped to his sides.

  “Rand tried to have me committed, you know.” She spat out the awful truth before she could stop her mouth from betraying her. “He used to say that over and over when he was trying to send me into a panic.”

  “Say what?”

  She pointed at the mirror again. “I know you know.”

  She stared at him, waiting for a reaction. Was he aware of the way Rand used to torture her?

  “That’s what was written on the mirror. Whoever wrote that knows how Rand tried to drive me crazy.”

  She recalled the ugly scene when she had confronted Rand.

  His eyes flared with sudden malice. “Why would I make something like that up?”

  He had, and she knew he had. She could tell. From the tone of his voice. In a way, his denial was also an admission. Rand had no qualms about telling an obvious lie. She knew a lie when it left his lips.

  “You’ve been doing things and then telling me they didn’t happen. Then you’ll say something happened when it didn’t. I know what’s real and what isn’t, Rand. I’m not delusional. You’ve been making me think I hear things. You’re trying to make me believe I see things that aren’t there. Why would you do that to me?”

  He laughed and the sound of his derision made her skin crawl.

  “You need some rest, Laurel. You’re obviously having mental issues.”

  “I heard you talking to Tino. You said they wouldn’t use a crazy person’s testimony. You were talking about me, weren’t you? About making me crazy? Well, I don’t know anything that I could tell the cops, so why do you think you need to shut me up that way?”

  He moved a step closer. His eyes glittered with unbridled malice. “I know you know.”

  Rand had wanted her out of the way. She never understood exactly why. Just that he didn’t want her anymore. She’d served his purpose and she was disposable. Leaving him had been impossible. She had tried to distance herself from him, but he continued to drag her back into his business, eventually entangling her in a murder investigation. Maybe she was useful to him after all...in a twisted sort of way.

  Her mind snapped back to the present and the man trying to soothe her and bring her down from her hysteria.

  His whispered words sounded a lot like comfort. “I’m sorry, baby. That must have been awful for you. I can’t believe he would do that to you. I know crazy when I see it and you’re not.”

  He called her baby. Had he ever done that before? Didn’t the voice on the recording call her baby?

  “You mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me calm down?”

  She was still shaking, either from the shock or from a chill.

  “Of course, I mean it.” He stroked her hair one more time before he backed away from her. “Put your nightgown on. Then you need some rest.”

  His last words punched her in the gut even though it appeared his intentions were for her benefit and not some ulterior motive.

  “Please don’t say that.”

  “Say what?” He seemed confused.

  “Rand used to say I needed to rest as if—”

  “Doesn’t matter what Rand used to say or why he said it. Rand was a monster. I’m not trying to push you anywhere you don’t want to go or make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m not implying anything about your mental condition when I say you need to rest.”

  Despite the reassurance in his words, his harsh tone scared her. She backed up against the wall.

  He must have read the sudden fear on her face. “Relax, Laurel. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  Chase was acting like her brave hero, but she was aware she might end up fighting for his life as well. Rand would want revenge on both of them.

  “We’re in this together?”

  She held her breath, reading his face, searching for any trace of duplicity. She needed to trust someone, and she wanted to trust Chase. With her life and with her heart.

  “Together. Even when this is over...I’m not leaving you.”

  He swept a damp lock of hair from her forehead and allowed his fingers to trail along her jaw. He placed a soft, sweet kiss on her lips and then left her alone in the bathroom.

  The gentleness of the kiss took her breath. Not demanding. Sweet. Like chocolate on a vanilla ice cream cone. Delicious. Something to be savored instead of used up quickly and tossed away. Rand had never kissed her that way.

  Don’t do that, Laurel. Don’t compare them. That’s not fair to Chase.

  When she heard the bedroom door click shut, she rushed into her room and dressed as fast as possible. Instead of changing into her nightgown, she grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, anxious to get dressed and find Chase, fearful of being alone for even a second and wanting to be with him again, desiring to be in his arms, craving his kisses. Longing for him radiated throughout her entire body. The attraction was both sexual and emotional. She needed to be with Chase.

  She shivered a little. The air conditioner must have been running on high. Why had it kicked on? She’d have to check the thermostat. Was that something else she was going to have to replace? No, she would leave here before she dumped any more money into the place. She’d made up her mind.

  Just as she wrapped her cold, stiff fingers around the doorknob, the telephone jangled. She sucked in a fractured breath, suddenly anxious about who might be on the other end of the landline. It rang another two or three times before she shook off her unease, lifted the phone to her ear, and answered.

  “Laurel?”

  Panic settled into her soul.

  “Laurel, is that you?”

  What was it about Tino’s voice that sent icy cold fingers of dread dancing up and down her spinal column?

  “Why are you calling?” She closed her eyes. How had he found her?

  “Something bad could happen if you aren’t careful.”

  To Laurel, his words sounded more like a threat than a warning. She sincerely doubted Tino was concerned for her safety.

  “What do you want?”

  “Someone is out there, and he’s going to try to get the travel drive from you. He’s not a friend. Don’t let him have it.”

  “What’s a travel drive?”

  She pretended ignorance. That had always been the best defense against men like Tino. Guys like him had always thought she was stupid, so she had always let them believe what they wanted to believe.

  “I know you know.”

  He’d used Rand’s words. Had Tino left the message on her mirror? His tone was that of a conspirator.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Would he buy her denial? After all, Tino had given her the travel drive with the codes on it. He was well aware she had it.

  “Don’t play dumb, Laurel. Playing dumb could kill you. You should be very careful. There’s already someone here, watching you, waiting for the right moment. When Rand heard about this guy, he sent his brother to look out for you. Has Chase shown up yet?”

  An uneasy feeling creeped up from her toes. Chase had been living in her house for nearly two weeks, and Rand knew that he had. Why would Tino pretend otherwise? Unless Tino was working independently of Rand and didn’t know everything Rand knew. If so, Tino was playing a very dangerous game.

  “I didn’t know Rand had a brother.” Did she sound convincing?

  “He never told you about Chase? I thought the two of you were tight.”

  His laughter sounded sharp and brittle in her ear, condescending and bitter at the same time. Hadn’t Tino always teased her about how little she really knew about Rand? He had always said he was closer to Rand than she was. Jealousy was an awful thing. Had he been jealous of her relationship wit
h Rand? In retrospect, she thought maybe he had.

  “So there are two men out here watching me? Rand’s brother and some other guy?”

  She had to keep him talking. Maybe she could figure out what his end game was.

  “That’s right.”

  She could hear the satisfaction in his tone.

  “How do I know which guy is which?”

  If there was another man watching her, she wanted to know who he was and what he looked like.

  “The guy has a tattoo of a black rose with thorns on it. If he dares to show himself, don’t trust him. Don’t let the travel drive out of your sight until I can get it from you.”

  She’d had enough of his game, ready to end it.

  “Really, Tino? Is that an order straight from Rand? What’s he going to do if I destroy it?”

  The line was silent for a long, horrible minute. “Don’t do that, Laurel. You’ll regret it.”

  “I have plenty of regrets, Tino, but I don’t think that will be one of them. I think I’m going to get rid of it right now.”

  She slammed the phone down on its base before he could respond. Her heart pounded hard and furious, her mind busily trying to absorb what Tino’s call really meant.

  “Who was on the phone?” Chase’s voice startled her from behind.

  She jerked, and then swung around to face him. “Tino.”

  Chase’s face clouded with alarm. Not anger. Not fear. The lines of apprehension deepened around his eyes and his mouth.

  “What did he say?”

  “He warned me that someone is here in Arkansas and is going to try to take the travel drive from me. Then, he told me Rand had sent his brother out here to watch out for me.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. “He said the man who came out here to take the travel drive from me has a black rose tattoo. A black rose tattoo just like yours.”

  Chase took another step closer and then stopped. Comprehension flowered in his eyes as if the implication of what she’d just said slowly evolved in his mind.

  “Laurel...” He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “I am who I say I am. You either trust me or you don’t.”

  Tino’s words zoomed through her mind. He’d given himself away. There’s already someone here, watching you, waiting for the right moment. Tino was already at Laurel Heights.