TO CATCH
A SPIRIT
CARRIE PULKINEN
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TO CATCH A SPIRIT
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
TO STOP A SHADOW PREVIEW
TITLES BY CARRIE PULKINEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.
To Catch a Spirit
COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Carrie Pulkinen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission of the author
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Leah Kaye Suttle
www.CarriePulkinen.com
Second Edition, 2017
Published in the United States of America
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to everyone who has ever dealt with mental health issues. Writing has been a creative outlet that helps me deal with my own anxiety. I hope you will find what helps you with yours. You’re worth it.
;
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book would not have been possible without the support of my husband, who reads everything I write, and my friends, who keep me writing. Thank you to Erin for your critiques and brainstorming sessions, Kaci for your superior grammar and proofreading skills, and Missy for your constant, unwavering support.
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CHAPTER ONE
A sickening feeling formed in Allison Gray’s stomach as she treaded across the yard toward the obnoxious mansion. A row of Grecian columns lined the front porch, and the foreboding stone steps leading to the heavy wooden door made her breath catch.
Why had she let Tina talk her into another one of these swanky parties? Thoughts of a million places she’d rather be at this moment tumbled through her mind, but she put on a smile and straightened her spine. She’d endure it for her friend. She always did.
Tina tugged her through the door and made the rounds, introducing Allison to every guy she knew, and a few she didn’t. She smiled politely, shook hands, and excused herself from every inviting gaze.
Then a tall man in black slacks and a blue-gray button-up waltzed into the room, and Tina’s nails cut into Allison’s arm. “There’s the new owner. Logan Alexander Mitchell. Isn’t he scrumptious?”
Allison glanced at his dark hair and piercing sapphire eyes. His fluid movements and confident posture gave him an air of commanding influence. Her heart rate kicked up. He was striking. No, cocky. Attractive, but no different than the rest of the high-rollers here. She shrugged. “He looks like a pretentious asshole to me.”
Tina crossed her arms. “You think all guys are pretentious assholes, Allie.”
“That’s because they are.” Allison sighed and turned to survey the room. To say she felt out of place among all the money was an understatement. She’d grown up in this lifestyle, and then had her life turned upside-down. She wanted nothing more to do with it.
She downed her second glass of champagne, needing something to dull the incessant chatter of emotions blasting her from every corner of the over-sized house.
Though she couldn’t hear the thoughts racing through people’s minds, she could certainly sense them. Sex and money. That’s all anyone thought about. She rubbed her arms to wipe away the vibrating energy. “Tell me again why you hang out with these people.”
“It’s called networking. Every one of these jerks is a potential client.” Tina smiled and leaned her shoulder against the wall, crossing her legs at the ankles. “And the guys are hot. With any luck, I can get a few leads and get laid.” She raised her eyebrows, and her gaze followed a tight butt in an Armani suit.
Allison rolled her eyes. “Slut.”
Tina grinned. “Prude.”
“I’m not a prude; I’m picky. I’m sorry if I don’t go for the rich prick type.”
“You don’t go for any type.” Tina winked and strummed her fingers against her arm.
“Go mingle. Go…find some real estate clients and your man of the hour. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” She put her hand on Allison’s arm. “I always drag you to these parties, and I feel like I abandon you half-way through.”
“You do. But it’s okay. I’m a big girl. Things are pretty calm here anyway, and I can take care of myself. Go.”
“Love you, Allie.”
“I know.”
Tina pushed off the wall and slinked into the throng of people, leaving Allison alone with her champagne. She had to grin at her friend as she worked the crowd with her charming smile and quick wit. Tina played the game like a pro, and she had the income to prove it. Allison felt lucky she could pay all her bills on time, but making a career out of her psychic gift was her choice. She knew she’d never get rich from it, and she was fine with that.
Allison pressed her back to the wall and looked at her watch. Only half an hour more, and she could duck out. Tina would be fine without her. She didn’t need her at these networking ventures. That’s what she called them, but Allison knew better. These high-class parties were just an excuse for all the high-rollers to get wasted and get laid. They were always the same.
As she made her way to the bar for another glass of champagne, trying to block out the raging hormone-infested emotions that flooded the room like hot honey, she felt a man watching her. His commanding presence startled her, but she felt something else hiding beneath all the testosterone and after-shave. She felt pain. Loneliness. She dared to turn her head to see who this intriguing aura belonged to, and their eyes met. For half a second, the mesmerizing intensity of his deep blue gaze held her to the spot. Her breath hitched.
Oh, crap.
She jerked her head down and picked up her pace. Logan Mitchell. The last thing she needed was to get caught up in a pointless conversation with a man like him. She was so not his type.
Great. Just great. Please don’t try to talk to me.
She ducked around a corner and lost him in the crowd, but he didn’t leave her thoughts. That pain, that loneliness would follow her. Why would a man who had everything be harboring those kinds of emotions?
It didn’t matter. This was her
own fault. She let it in. She knew better than to let her guard down, especially in a crowded place like this. And now she knew way more about the sexy billionaire than she cared to. Forget the champagne. She needed to go home.
She scanned the crowd for Tina, wanting to tell her goodbye before she ducked out the door, but a woman on the stairs drew her attention. She wore a long, white night gown, and she sat with her head in her hands, sobbing.
The woman’s despair washed over her like a drowning pool. Allison blinked back tears as she approached her, and with concern in her heart and the desperate need to be rid of these unwelcome emotions, she tried to console her.
“Can I help you?” She spoke in her softest, most comforting voice.
Despite her efforts, the woman’s emotions overwhelmed her. Betrayal, desperation, sickening depression. What had happened to her? Allison couldn’t fight the tears as they streamed down her face.
“Excuse me, Miss?” She wiped her cheeks with her fingertips and choked on a sob. When was the last time another person’s emotions had affected her this way? “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
The woman raised her head and blinked.
Then she vanished.
* * *
Logan Mitchell sighed as he worked his way through the crowd. His first night in the sprawling mansion on Grayhaven Island was supposed to be a happy one. He’d thrown one hell of a party, but his mind kept drifting to places he’d rather not visit. Places he’d moved here to get away from. He shook his head, forcing his thoughts back to the present.
His one hundred fifty party guests fit easily in his estate. It was way more house than a single guy needed, but he got it for a steal. Why anyone would want to leave such a beautiful, secluded place, he had no idea. This house was one dream he was happy to see come true.
Trent clapped him on the shoulder and surveyed the room. “Nice to have your own place again, isn’t it?”
“Definitely. You can’t build equity when you’re renting. Though leaving New York probably got me disowned.”
“True.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.” It was nice to rub a little salt in his father’s wound. There was no way he was going down the path that man had so carefully carved out for him.
He was already cursed as it was.
“So.” Trent flashed a grin and gestured to the guests. “Who’s the lucky lady who gets to spend the night with Detroit’s Most Eligible Bachelor?”
Thankful for the change of subject, Logan scanned the crowd. So many beautiful women, and any one of them would think it a privilege to spread her legs for him. Just another one night stand. That’s all they’d ever be to him.
That’s all he could ever be for them.
“You know that’s going to get old eventually.”
“How can that get old, bro? Detroit Weekly Magazine named you this year’s Most Eligible Bachelor. Not that you needed any help with the ladies before, but come on. Detroit’s Most Eligible Bachelor.”
“It’s already annoying.” Logan slapped his friend on the back and turned toward a group of women. “A bachelor’s all I’ll ever be,” he mumbled.
“You say something?”
“Nope. It’s nothing.” Nothing but the fact that he was destined to lead a lonely life because he couldn’t afford to let anyone get close to him. Not when he knew the consequence it would bring.
The party was a way to fill the void that haunted him. That emptiness he couldn’t escape, knowing he could never settle down. Surrounding himself with people helped stave off the nagging loneliness. Until the party was over.
No, he couldn’t be alone tonight.
“How about her?” Trent nodded toward a brunette in a tight, black dress.
Logan sighed. “She’ll do.”
“Not good enough? There are plenty of women here. Take your pick.”
“They’re all the same.” Sex and money. That’s what they all wanted from him. He felt it every day of his life. Logan could read people, feel their emotions. It was a gift his father loved to exploit—already had exploited more than he wanted to think about. Yeah, getting the hell out of New York was the best thing he could’ve done. And yet, it seemed nothing had changed.
He looked at the brunette. She was pretty, though it didn’t matter what she looked like. All he needed was a warm body to fill his bed and make him feel wanted for a few hours.
He stopped and raked a hand through his hair. What had his life come to?
He searched the room again, letting the crowd’s emotions grate over his skin like sandpaper. But this time he found something different. She was different. Her blonde hair hung in loose waves down to her shoulders. Her fair skin looked like porcelain, fragile, with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She wore very little makeup, and her conservative black slacks and turtle neck sweater told him she definitely wasn’t there for the sex. Probably not the money either. She turned her head and caught his gaze, but then flitted away. Without thinking twice, he pursued her.
Trent caught him by the arm. “Her? Seriously, man. You can do better than that.” He tried to steer Logan back to the voluptuous brunette he was about to pick up.
“She’s different. There’s something…I need to talk to her.”
“Since when do you care about talking?”
Logan waded through the crowd, trying to catch up with the intriguing woman. He followed her toward the bar, then stopped as she made an abrupt turn by the staircase. She didn’t see him, didn’t know he was watching when he reached out to read her.
Sadness. Overwhelming despair.
She crept toward the stairs and put her hand on the rail as she bent over. Was she in pain? She was talking to…no one. Her hand covered her mouth as she turned. Tears streamed down her face, and she ran to the door.
“Wait!” Logan pushed through the mass of people, but he was too late. She was out the door before he could catch up. “What the hell?”
She darted across the front lawn like she couldn’t get out of the place fast enough.
“You all right, man?” Trent put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “She take off?”
“Yeah. She’s gone.”
“No biggie. There’s plenty of other fish in this sea, and they’re all waiting to be caught by Detroit’s Most Eligible Bachelor.”
Logan shook his head. “That’s really getting old.”
* * *
Allison fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock her car door. The crisp fall breeze sent shivers cascading down her spine. Her heart raced. The vapors of her shallow breaths fogged the window as she cursed her remote. With trembling hands, she opened the door and shoved the key in the ignition. Her Toyota looked like a black sheep among the designer cars that took up most of the crescent-shaped driveway.
It didn’t matter. At that moment, she focused on getting the hell off that island.
A ghost.
She should’ve known it was a spirit when the emotions overwhelmed her. She’d been psychic as long as she could remember, and she worked hard to keep her abilities in check. A living person’s feelings couldn’t consume her like that. Not anymore. But something about a ghost not being in a solid body made it nearly impossible for her to block them out.
She inhaled deeply to center herself and pulled out her cell phone to send Tina a text. Headed home. Call me tomorrow.
Hopefully no one saw her display of emotion, but if they did, her friend would let her know. Tina made it her business to know everything about everyone. As the number one real estate agent in the Detroit area, she’d sold the Grayhaven mansion to Logan, and made a pretty profit, even though it went for next to nothing. If you could call ten million dollars nothing.
With her emotions under control, Allison stomped the gas and sped back to her tiny apartment in the city.
Her emotions. What a laugh.
She wasn’t the one who was so upset. It was that woman, that ghost on the stairs. A
llison chuckled. Logan Mitchell got more than he bargained for in that deal.
Logan. She had to admit the guy was gorgeous, if she was going to judge him on outward appearance alone. At six and a half feet tall, his broad chest and muscular arms were enough to make women swoon. Thick, black lashes shaded his intense, crystal-blue eyes, and his dark chestnut hair was cut close on the sides and messy-chic on top.
Inside.…To be honest, she didn’t know much about him. She never read the newspaper or magazine articles celebrating his latest accomplishments. He was just another rich, arrogant, self-centered jerk, just like her dad was. They all were. She didn’t want to know him.
But what was that frightened loneliness about? The poor guy was screaming for help, and helping people was what Allison did best.
But he didn’t ask for her help.
She parked her car and climbed the stairs to her third-floor apartment. Safely inside and away from the constant throbbing of human emotion, she pushed Logan out of her mind and concentrated on her nightly meditation. Lord knew she needed it after that escapade.
* * *
Logan saw the last of his guests to the door, then turned around to face the next woman he’d never talk to again. She had long, brown hair and sleek curves, and she was looking at him with her best come-and-get-me eyes.
Her thoughts pounded at him like twenty-inch sub woofers on full-blast. He couldn’t read her mind. It was a feeling he got, like registering another person’s emotions. The hot, sticky flow of sex offset by the sharp trill of excitement that only money could bring. That’s all she wanted from him. That’s all anyone wanted from him. He sighed and led her upstairs to his bedroom.
* * *
“But, I’m your wife, Alex. Don’t you love me anymore?” Blood ran down the woman’s face from the nasty gash on her forehead, and her utter despair slammed into him like a Mack truck into a brick wall. Her emotions paralyzed him. He didn’t love her. Hell, he had another woman in his arms, and she was the one he loved.
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