Haunted hearts, p.1
Haunted Hearts, page 1
Haunted Hearts
By
Kimberly Dean
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kimberly@kimberlydean.com
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This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
HAUNTED HEARTS
First edition. October 3, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 Kimberly Dean.
ISBN: 978-1386188698
Written by Kimberly Dean.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Haunted Hearts
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
Excerpt from Hacking IT
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Also By Kimberly Dean
About the Author
A ghost from the past wants the man of her future
CALLIE THOMPSON IS thrilled when she inherits a house in the small town of Shadow Valley. The house is old and creaky, but she’s not afraid of hard work. Unfortunately, no matter how many repairs she makes, the strange noises won’t go away. Items disappear. Lights flicker. Footsteps echo down the hallway. Her nerves are soon so frayed that she resorts to calling the one person in town she hasn’t been able to get along with, bullheaded police chief Carter Landry.
Carter doesn’t have time to investigate things that go bump in the night—although, with Callie, the idea is tempting. He’s busy working with the governor’s task force on a major case and dealing with a rash of petty Halloween crimes. He knows that Callie’s house isn’t haunted... no matter what the town legend says. Still, when her distress call comes in, he hits the ground running.
Carter can’t help his protective instincts when it comes to the sassy blond. He doesn’t believe in ghosts, but someone is intentionally scaring her—and he doesn’t like it. He stays the night to investigate, and the friction that has always been between them ignites into passion.
As the couple gives in to their mutual attraction, the strange occurrences in the house subside. But could Carter’s presence be the reason? Callie fears that her sexy cop may be the one the ghost has wanted all along.
PROLOGUE
Something was in her house; she could feel it. It had a cold vibe, a chilling vibe. The air practically shimmered with malevolence.
The sensation disturbed her, for this was her house. Her space. How dare something invade it?
She pressed her toe more firmly against the hardwood floor, and the rocking chair beneath her picked up its pace. The squeak from the chair’s old joints was annoying, but familiar. The familiarity should have comforted her, but she was too distressed to find any comfort in an old routine. The darkness in the air pressed heavily upon her soul.
It was an unwanted, untimely distraction.
She clenched the arms of the rocker more tightly. She couldn’t afford to let this new disturbance get in her way. Not when she was this close to accomplishing her goal. Not when she’d waited for so long.
A gust of wind shook the porthole window in front of her, and she looked out over her beloved countryside. Summer had gone on its merry way, and autumn had settled in. The leaves on the trees were brightening. The air was crisper, heavier. Soon, even that would be gone. Winter winds would roll in, and they would bite, snap, and howl.
Yes, the winds of change were coming, and she had to be ready—for this might be her last chance.
The rocker came to an abrupt halt. There was only one thing to do. The dark spirit had to go. It would simply have to move along, because she wouldn’t allow it to stay.
Not here. Not in her house.
Not now.
CHAPTER ONE
Callie Thompson stepped on the accelerator of the Mustang and felt the powerful engine surge. A grin broke out on her face as her hair whipped in the wind. It was almost too chilly to be driving with the top down, but she didn’t care. The nip in the air was invigorating.
Taking a deep breath, she let her body melt back against the plush leather seat. Now, this was the life—sunshine, a powerful car, and an open road. What more could a girl want? Oh, wait. That was right. She had a list. Add a ruggedly handsome man, a house with hardwood floors, a never-ending supply of peanut butter, and everything would be perfect.
One out of three wasn’t bad.
“I’m a homeowner!” she yelled as she lifted both hands into the air. The wind carried her words away down the two-lane road.
With a laugh, she caught the steering wheel again. She couldn’t believe how Lady Luck was smiling upon her. She’d inherited a house. Not a flat, an apartment, a brownstone, or a condo, mind you. She didn’t care what you called any of those places where people lived smack dab on top of the other. Fate had given her a house.
She still couldn’t believe the surprise that an elderly relative had left in her will. She hadn’t known Aunt Jeanne well. She was a great-aunt, three times removed, or something along those lines. Callie had no idea why the woman had thought of her when she’d been divvying up her estate. She was just happy she had. The timing certainly couldn’t have been better. To say she was sick of city life would be putting it mildly. Boston had been big and exciting for a while, but its charms had worn thin. The relentless noise, the traffic, the constant press of buildings... She didn’t know exactly what had pushed her over the edge; she’d just known she’d been getting more and more claustrophobic. Instead of being fed by the city’s energy, she’d felt trapped.
No more.
With work going well, she was mobile. She didn’t have to live in the city. With email, the Internet, and smartphones, she could live anywhere she pleased. Right now, a house in the middle of Western Massachusetts pleased her very much.
“So long, Boston. Hello, Shadow Valley.”
She rested her elbow atop the door and opened her fingers to catch the wind. She liked the rolling Berkshire mountains, the trees, and the birds. Most of all, she loved the fact that she shared the road with early leaf peepers, not harried commuters. People were out just to enjoy themselves. What a concept.
The road took her over the crest of a hill, and her grin turned into a thousand-watt smile.
There it was!
Excitement unfurled in her stomach and, on impulse, she pulled over to the side of the road. She put the Mustang in park and scooted up the leather seat until she was perched on the headrest. She liked the look of the town as much as she liked the name.
“It’s perfect,” she whispered.
Shadow Valley was tiny and quaint. It sat nestled amongst the hills, filling up the bowl of the valley. It appeared as if houses had tried to make their way up the hillsides, but nature had finally staked her claim and allowed no further advancement. The trees were so thick around the edge of the town that she wondered if a person could walk between them. Either way, they’d be surrounded by beauty. The autumn hues were just starting to appear. Soon the entire landscape would be a riot of color.
But she could see how the town got its name. When the sun went down, darkness would fall quickly. Shadows from the hills would sweep over the town like a protective blanket, and all that color would change to black.
Smiling to herself, Callie plopped back down into the driver’s seat and buckled her seatbelt. This was exactly what she’d been looking for. This was a place where she could relax and settle in.
This was a place she could call home.
A news report came over the radio, and she changed channels. A rock station suited her mood. Checking her mirror, she pulled back out and began to cruise. The road snaked down into the valley with twists and turns. The rock-and-roll beat a heavy rhythm, and she stepped harder on the gas.
“Ooh, ooh, baby,” she sang along. “Whoa, oh. Shake it, shake it. Huh?”
Her gaze flashed to the radio. That was a terrible guitar solo. Wait... The wailing got louder, and she glanced at the rearview mirror.
“Ah, crud.” Flashing red and blue lights.
Not again.
She pulled over to the side of the road. The police car swung in behind her, and she grimaced. This was not the new beginning she’d planned. The police car came to a textbook stop, a few feet back and slightly off-center. She watched as the policeman opened his door. One foot settled on the pavement, and her eyes widened as he emerged from his cruiser.
“Whoa,” she said on a swift exhale.
Now that was a big guy. Big, solid, and intimidating. His height continued to grow until he filled up her rearview mirror. With the way he stalked toward her, he looked like a jungle cat approaching his prey. Callie licked her dry lips. Why did she suddenly feel like lunch?
He approached her car carefully, and she rubbed her damp palms against the steering wheel. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the mirrored sunglasses he wore, but she could feel him watching her as closely as she watched him. Suddenly self-conscious, she ran her hand through her tangled ha ir and tried to make herself presentable.
“Ma’am,” he said in a low voice as he stepped up to her door. The rumbling tone made a shiver go down her spine.
“Officer.” She tilted her head back to look him in the face, but with the way he towered over her, it nearly put a kink in her neck. When their gazes finally connected, she didn’t care.
Lordy, he was something—all dark, muscle-bound, and rugged.
Awareness sizzled deep down in her belly. So help her, if the man had a jar of peanut butter stuffed in his pocket, she would not be held accountable for her actions.
“Good afternoon,” she said breathlessly.
“Could you remove your sunglasses?”
“Oh, sure.” She took them off. Giving in to a bit of feminine primping, she ran a hand through her hair again. With the way it had been whipping around in the wind, she must look like a maniac. “Sorry,” she said, looking up at him through the fan of her eyelashes.
For a moment, he went still as he looked at her. Then his weight shifted. “Do you know what the speed limit is on this road, ma’am?”
The speed. Right. She had a bad habit of not paying attention to that.
She flashed him one of her best smiles. “My second-grade teacher was a ‘ma’am,’ but she had blue hair. Could you try miss or even miz?”
He went quiet again—only this time in a completely different way.
Callie’s smile faltered. What? What had she said wrong? Wasn’t a bit of flirtation expected under these circumstances? Especially when he looked like that? She couldn’t see his eyes, but the line of his lips had gone flat. His jaw had somehow become firmer, and she shivered as the nip in the air became more pronounced.
Abruptly, she realized he wasn’t paying attention to her. He was listening to yet another news report on the radio.
“Authorities are still on the lookout for two escaped convicts from the correctional institute at Concord. People in surrounding areas are warned to be on the lookout. The convicts are thought to be unarmed, but should be considered dangerous. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of—”
She hit the power button. “I hope I don’t look like an escaped convict to you,” she teased.
If anything, the lines on his face became even sterner. “Can I see your driver’s license, miz?”
He said it in such a deadpanned tone, she almost missed it. She looked up at him, hoping to see a smile, but the expression on his face hadn’t changed. “Yes, officer,” she muttered.
“It’s chief.”
Of course it was. Callie sighed. This was not going well at all.
“Sorry.” She pulled her purse off the floorboard and onto her lap. She felt his attention sharpen, so she kept her movements slow so he could see what she was doing. She pulled out her wallet, but the plastic slot where her license was usually housed was empty.
“I know it’s here somewhere.” She threw him yet another apologetic look that bounced right off those reflective sunglasses.
She finally decided that discretion was not the best policy, and flirting with him was definitely out of the question. The man might be drool-worthy, but he also appeared to be a by-the-book type of lawman.
And a grumpy one at that.
She grabbed a handful of things out of her purse and began flipping through the business cards, punch cards, and coupons. When that proved unsuccessful, she put the handful of items on top of the box in the passenger seat and reached for another.
The police chief hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and waited impatiently.
Handful number two didn’t provide any better results. She was reaching for a third when he finally broke down and asked, “Are you licensed to drive?”
“Of course I am.” Callie refused to look at him. Looking at him made butterflies swirl in her stomach, and she was unsettled enough as it was. She searched through her latest collection and found a ten-dollar bill, an expired library card, and two tubes of lipstick.
“Do you remember the last time you saw your license?”
She glanced at the box. “No, but...”
She’d had it out a lot. She’d been filling out so much paperwork with her address change. For a second, her heart tripped. Could she have left it at the lawyer’s office or any one of the utilities she’d had to cancel and/or set up? She had such a hard time keeping track of things.
She touched a laminated card, and relief poured through her. “Here it is.”
She held it out to him and tilted her head, purposely letting her hair flow over her shoulder. Her blond hair. It was time to get this situation back in hand. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong, sir.”
He took the license from her, but otherwise ignored her.
Trying harder, she gave him her best doe-eyed look. “The countryside is just so pretty, I got distracted.”
She wished she could see his eyes. Sweet-talking worked much better when she could read an officer—or a police chief’s—reaction. At least, it had in the past. She needed every advantage she could get with this guy.
“So, Ms. Calina Thompson,” he said, reading her name, “you never answered my question. Do you know what the speed limit is on this road?”
Damn. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what that tone of voice meant. She was getting a ticket. She squinted down the road and saw a speed limit sign. “Thirty-five,” she said glumly.
“Right. And how fast were you going?”
She threw him a dry look.
“I didn’t think you’d have an answer for that.” He looked at the contents of her impractically small back seat. “Looks like you’re loaded down pretty well.”
Ooh, something personal. There was her opening.
“I’m moving,” she said, perking back up.
“You should have those things secured with a rope or have the top up. It’s a hazard, especially with as fast as you were going.”
Which, apparently, he wasn’t going to tell her. Callie sank deeper into the seat. Not only was she getting a ticket, it was going to be an expensive one.
He glanced at her license again. “You’re from Boston?”
The way he said “Boston” made it sound like something that made his nose hairs curl. Great. That was just what she needed, some cocky small-time chief of police trying to show his muscles.
Well, he didn’t need to try so hard. She’d already noticed them.
A sharp reply was on the tip of her tongue, but she managed to hold it back. “I was.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Shadow Valley.”
His head came up. “You’re moving to Shadow Valley?”
Had she not just said that? “That’s the plan.”
“The Rutger place or the apartment over Ernie’s?”
She looked at him blankly. “The address is 1255 Highland.”
“The old Calhoun place?”
The abrupt change in the direction of the conversation threw her. Was he actually trying to socialize with her now? After he’d decided to give her a ticket? Didn’t this guy know how the game was played? “My aunt Jeanne left the house to me in her will.”
“You inherited the place?”
Something about his reaction disturbed her. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“I didn’t know there were any Calhouns left.”
Callie drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. She’d heard about small towns being cliquish, but this was ridiculous. Was he checking her pedigree or something? Were outsiders not allowed? “Aunt Jeanne was a Thompson. I don’t know anything about any Calhouns.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
“That’s good.” He turned on his heel. “Real good. Hold on, I need to run this.”
Callie blinked in confusion. What had that been about?
She watched him in the mirror as he walked away. She could usually charm people without lifting a finger—and, with him, she’d definitely been willing to let her fingers do the walking—but he’d been immune. In fact, he’d been downright surly. Apparently, her list needed a bit of tweaking. Ruggedly handsome or not, she didn’t like the man. She hoped the townspeople were friendlier, because their police chief had the personality of a rock.
Which, in fact, matched his backside pretty darn well.
