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The best place to do research was the library. Callie had learned that during her short time as a reporter, and it was the one thing she’d actually liked about the job. Finding the stories behind the story. Figuring out people’s motivations and quirks. What better place would there be to learn more about Adelaide Calhoun than the Shadow Valley Public Library?
She heard the whispers and ducked her head lower into the cubbyhole she’d found behind the stacks of books. When Carter had said he’d needed to drop by the station, she’d asked him to drop her off. She’d thought it would be harmless. Quiet and secluded.
Wrong.
People were talking. Word had gotten around town fast. Even the librarian was yakking it up. Callie stared at the page in front of her even as she heard whispers of “she saw Adelaide” and “spent the night with the police chief” going on behind her.
Problem was, they weren’t wrong. The rumor mill had gotten this one right on the nose. She had seen a ghost, and she’d slept with the town hunk. Apparently, people had been waiting for this to happen for a long time. Both events. Everyone but her had known about her house, and, while she and Carter had been clashing, others had seen something else happening. Or so they claimed now...
She’d been less clued in, at least about the house. But Carter? The heat in her ears radiated down her throat. Okay, she might have seen that in the cards, too. Having the town observe their relationship was awkward, but she could deal with that. Her readers would certainly love it.
But this ghost thing...
“Focus.”
She’d come here to do research, but she wasn’t getting very far. The internet hadn’t provided much information. Contrary to popular belief, not everything was documented there, especially small-town or old news. Town records could be a better source for what she needed. It was just a lot more work.
She let out a frustrated puff of air and tried to concentrate on the book in front of her. It was the fourth one she’d skimmed for information about the Underground Railroad, but it was more informative than the others had been. This one had an entire chapter devoted to the Railroad in Massachusetts.
She flipped through the pages and saw information about the secret symbols the Railroad had used, like quilt patterns and the language of railroad transportation as code. The network had been strong, but secretive. Everyone involved had been at risk. Adelaide must have been under so much pressure.
Callie turned the page and flinched. Speak of the devil: a photo of Adelaide stared up at her. Callie clapped her hand over it. She might have made peace with the woman at the cemetery, but that didn’t mean she could forget the apparition that had floated down the hallway, yelling at her. She continued reading the text, but her eyes were suddenly drawn to the opposite page when she saw something she recognized. Her name.
Calina Calhoun.
Callie blinked. When she looked again, it was still there. Calina.
The hair on the back of her neck rose. Forgetting all about the picture, she skimmed the words. As their meaning sank in, her fear turned into the smallest seed of excitement.
Adelaide had had a sister named Calina.
What were the odds?
Slim. It wasn’t a common name. Callie chewed on her lower lip and scoured the information the author had collected, but the vital piece she needed wasn’t there.
She pulled out her phone. “Hi, Mom, I have a question about our family’s genealogy. Where did you come up with the name Calina?”
Calina Calhoun... Calina Thompson... The pull she’d felt for the house... It was too much to be a coincidence. She began taking notes. Fate had brought her to this town and that specific house for a reason. It was time she figured out why.
* * *
THE HOUSE LOOMED LARGE as Callie stood on the front walk, staring at it. It looked so different in the light of day. The sun was shining and the temperature had warmed, but adrenaline simmered along her nerve endings. She remembered the storm... the abject darkness... the blob of energy... Her weight transferred to the balls of her feet. Half of her wanted to run away again, but the other half felt the pull of curiosity.
The need to go inside was so strong, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop herself.
“Hey, Callie.”
She spun around to see David rushing across the street.
“What are you doing here?” he said, trying to catch his breath. A frown marred his handsome young face, and his shaggy hair couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.
“I live here.”
“I know, I mean... Are you okay? Why are you alone?”
“I’m fine.” She licked her dry lips. “I just... uh... need some things.”
“Like what?”
Answers.
The delinquent in David knew a weak excuse when he heard one. He shifted uncomfortably and tugged on his sagging jeans. “Can’t Chief Hardass go in there and get whatever you need for you? I really don’t think you should go back inside yourself.”
She looked at David sharply. “Chief what?”
He shrugged. “Sorry. It’s what I call him. Or I did. Before you two... you know... hooked up.”
Her face heated. It was what she’d called him, too, once upon a time. She looked again at the house. He was Carter to her now. Carter, who’d pulled her out that side window. Carter, who’d saved her from a falling shutter. Carter, who’d made love to her until she couldn’t see straight. He’d go inside in an instant if she asked him. “Probably.”
“So call him.” David whipped his phone out of his pocket. “Here.”
“I think I’m related to her, David.”
His head snapped up. “You’re what?”
“I think I really may be a Calhoun.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah.” Why else would something be pulling her toward that house? Last night, the push out of it had been inexorable. Today, the polarity was reversed. Her thigh muscles were cramping as she tried to keep herself away. “I think I’m here to help her cross over.”
“Callie... I don’t know about that.”
She didn’t either. Honestly, she didn’t know what she was doing. If the sun wasn’t blazing so brightly it made her squint, she wouldn’t be on the property at all. Yet the lure was that strong. It was the same pull that had brought her all the way across the state.
“Go in with me,” she said impulsively.
He froze. “I can’t.”
“Then stand in the front doorway then while I try to talk to her.”
He swallowed hard and looked away. “I’m not going to help you do this.”
“All right. I’ll do it myself.”
He followed her up the front walk and caught her arm. “Don’t. Please. Landry will only blame me.”
“I’ll be fast.”
“If I go in with you, he’ll have my head. If I let you go without me, he’ll have my ass.”
“Then we won’t tell him, will we?”
“Callie!” David let her go when she pulled away. “Ah, hell.”
Summoning her nerve, Callie walked up the front path. The house looked a thousand times better than it had when she’d first arrived in town. With the lawn mowed and a fresh coat of paint, the place looked proud and stately—but she got why the trick-or-treaters had given the old Calhoun house a wide berth. The toothy pumpkins on the steps looked friendly and inviting, but in hindsight, the cobwebs and scarecrow were a bad idea.
Especially the scarecrow.
Callie felt it watching her as she walked up the sidewalk. If that thing turned its head, so help her, she was out of here.
She scooted across the porch fast. When the scarecrow kept staring straight ahead, she pulled out her keys. Carter might not have grabbed everything she’d needed, but he’d managed to collect her purse. She hadn’t stopped for anything last night as she’d barreled out of the house. Her chest tightened as she stared at the ornately carved panels of the wooden door. She remembered clawing at it, trying to get out.
Her breaths went short, but determination set in. She understood things better now, and she had a goal. She needed to find a way to communicate with her long-ago relative. It was the only way she’d find out what was keeping the woman trapped in this time and space.
Before she lost her nerve, Callie unlocked the front door. Slipping the can of pepper spray Carter had given to her out of her purse, she stepped inside. Better to be safe than sorry.
The chill was gone. Sunshine spilled into the house, warming the hardwood floors. She left the door open behind her. She wanted a quick way out if she needed one.
Her ragged breaths echoed off the walls of the entryway. There was heaviness in the air; she could feel it. But it wasn’t evil or threatening. It was almost... sad. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was this house’s moods. Right now, with the sunlight reflecting off its walls, it seemed empty and harmless. Welcoming.
“Adelaide?” She cleared her throat. “It’s Calina. I’m back. Please don’t be upset.”
A series of loud squeaks from upstairs made every muscle in Callie’s body clench. There it was again, a faint, repetitive squeak—only it wasn’t the shutters.
It had never been the shutters.
She settled her finger atop the pepper spray trigger. She needed to be careful what she wished for. “I’m not your sister, Adelaide, but I’m your niece.” Several times removed, but they didn’t need to get technical. “Did you know that?”
She heard the squeak again and tried hard to place it. There was something about it... Feeling more confident than she had a right to, she started to follow her ears. “I’ve been reading a lot about you. You’re quite the heroine in the history books.”
The noise was faint, but it grew louder as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. “You were on a great mission,” she called, “but it’s over. You need to understand that so you can move on.”
The second floor was still in a bad state of disrepair, but it was warmer and brighter than downstairs. More welcoming. Nobody had chased her up here.
The constant squeak pulled Callie past her office and down the hall until she was at the door to the attic. Whatever the sound was, it was coming from the upper floor. With a shaky hand, she reached for the handle. The sound stopped abruptly when she touched it.
The sudden silence had her heart jumping into her throat.
“You can do this,” she said, forcing the words past her dry lips. “It’s a new day. This is on your terms.”
She remembered how she’d felt at Adelaide’s grave. She hadn’t been scared then. She’d been moved. Why couldn’t Adelaide’s spirit rest?
She needed help; Callie knew it in her gut.
Determinedly, she wrapped her fingers around the door handle. It felt cool against her sweaty palm. Before she could wimp out, she turned it. The door swung open with a groan. Steeling herself for what she might find, she stepped inside.
* * *
CARTER’S TEMPLE WAS throbbing as he mounted the porch of Callie’s house. Two calls from David Hughes in less than twenty-four hours. Two. What the hell was she doing coming back here? He’d left her at the library, never thinking that she’d come over here alone.
When he found the front door standing wide open, his chest tightened. He’d locked that door last night.
“Callie?” he called as he stepped into the entryway.
Why would she come here?
He quickly moved to the living room, but it was empty. A check of the kitchen found it quiet too.
“Callie.”
His footsteps sounded loud as he hurried to her bedroom. His shoulder gave a nasty twinge when he looked inside and saw the Elvira dress still draped over the bed.
“Are you here?”
She didn’t like the basement. She avoided it like the plague, and she’d been waiting to work on the upstairs rooms until winter settled in. So where the hell was she?
“Callie.”
His chin snapped up when he heard movement above him. He was about to call her name again when he realized that the person hadn’t answered him. Was someone prowling around in the light of day?
The footsteps headed to the front of the house. He followed them, moving as silently as he could through the living room. He stepped over a board he knew was noisy, but he couldn’t avoid them all. The footsteps above kept moving. They were lighter than Callie had described. If it was her, why wasn’t she answering him?
The footsteps started down the rounded staircase to the left. Carter moved to the far side where he could see, but still have cover. He was ready to act when he recognized the tall, slim form.
“Callie.”
She screeched and spun around so fast that she had to grab the banister to keep from falling. “Don’t do that,” she said, one hand going to her heart. “I’ve had enough scares around this place.”
“Why didn’t you answer me when I called?”
“I did. You must not have heard me.”
“My ears aren’t that bad.”
“I was up in the attic.”
“The attic?” That was the last place he would have looked. She hadn’t mentioned having any problems up there. “What are you even doing in this house? Why didn’t you call me if you wanted to come over here?”
“Call you? It’s my house,” she said with a laugh. “Listen, I learned some more things today about Adelaide, and I—”
“So help me, if you say one more word about that so-called ghost...” He stomped across the entryway. “We haven’t figured out what’s going on in this place. I would have escorted you if you needed to come here.”
“I didn’t realize I had to report my every move to you.”
“I haven’t cleared this place as a crime scene yet. You shouldn’t be here.”
Which was a half-truth. He’d planned to come back for another walk-through this morning, but things had gone in a whole other direction last night. One that he couldn’t have walked away from if Adelaide Calhoun herself had waltzed into his bedroom.
Callie’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see any yellow tape.”
His teeth set. The woman knew how to get under his skin. “I thought you were afraid of this place.”
“I am. Or... I was.” She wiggled her knee. “I thought I’d try communicating with her.”
Communicating? Oh, good Lord. He ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t need to stir things up any more than they already are. Everyone in town has been talking about what happened here. It doesn’t help that it was Halloween.” It was going to take weeks for the hubbub to die down.
“Happened here?” She folded her arms over her chest. “Or what happened at your place? People weren’t quiet about that, even at the library.”
The muscle in his temple cramped. People always talked about the town goings-on, but what had happened between them was private. It was nobody’s business but theirs.
“You really should be wearing your sunglasses, Carter. Your cocky police chief shtick is much more effective that way.”
“You’re one to talk, honey. That ditzy blonde routine of yours is wearing thin.”
Her cheeks went red.
“Fine. Whatever.” She flipped back her hair, reminding him of the flirting routine she’d tried in her Mustang. “I crossed the line of a crime scene, and I ditched my police protection. What are you going to do? Ticket me?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
She didn’t know when to stop.
“Maybe it’s time you slapped the cuffs on me,” she said, pushing her wrists together out in front of her. “After all, I am the town’s high-maintenance menace.”
She was trouble, all right. Carter covered the distance between them and caught her about the waist. She gasped when he plucked her off the second step and pulled her against him. Turning, he bumped the front door shut and settled her firmly against it. “Handcuffs aren’t such a bad idea. Remind me to try them later.”
* * *
CALLIE PRESSED HER hands against Carter’s bunched shoulders. There was fire in his eyes, but something else, too. Something hotter. Deeper. It stopped short the retort she had waiting on the tip of her tongue.
“I was worried about you,” he said gruffly.
His lips came down on hers, hard with intent. His tongue plunged deep, and she held on tight. This wasn’t a kiss meant for comfort. This was frustration, fear, and desire all rolled into one. He loomed over her, edgy with impatience. Edgy with need.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” she said. “If it helps, I brought the pepper spray.”
She’d pulled her phone out probably five times on the walk over to call him, only to stop herself. She was tired of being such a scaredy cat.
“You don’t have to play tough for me. That’s my job.”
His hold tightened around her waist, almost as if he was going to carry her out to his car again—and Callie finally got it. He was a man who liked to be in control, who needed to know where he stood in any given situation, but nothing here was as it should be. He couldn’t fight against what he couldn’t see. The strange occurrences in her house were affecting him as much as they were her.
His need to protect her struck a chord inside her, and she softened. She wrapped her arms around his neck and massaged the tight muscles she knew she’d find there. A groan left him, and his hands slipped under her sweatshirt to find skin.
“I really didn’t want to leave that bed this morning,” he said.
Neither had she.
His hands were hot and greedy as they moved up to cover her breasts. She arched when his thumbs slid under the demi-cups of her bra and rubbed her nipples. “I’ve got a bed here,” she said, her voice tight.
He pulled her sweatshirt over her head. “The pink set,” he murmured, thumbing the center of her bra cup. “My favorite.”
Then he was kissing her again and getting rid of the lingerie. She pushed at his jacket. It fell off his shoulders and draped over his forearms. She made a frustrated sound, and he pulled back long enough to drop it onto the floor and tug off his own shirt.
Callie hummed in delight when all that muscled flesh rocked back into her arms. “I thought we were good at arguing.” She kissed his chest. “We’re even better at this.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” He caught her zipper. Her jeans loosened, and she moaned when he pushed his hand inside them.
So much better.
“Touch me,” he said.
She wedged her hand between their tightly pressed bodies. He caught her mouth in another ravenous kiss, and her thighs quivered. The bulge behind his zipper more than filled the palm of her hand. Experimentally, she squeezed.
“Ah. Yeah,” he groaned.
He slapped his palm against the door and leaned closer, trapping her touch right where it was. His chest pressed against her breasts, and his mouth was everywhere. Against her lips, her neck, her ears...
She began to shake when his hand found its way into her panties. His touch was gentle, but determined. And curious. She opened her eyes and tried to regain her equilibrium. She couldn’t see past his wide shoulders. He was everywhere. He was all she could see. He was all she could feel.
And his usually stalwart control was nowhere to be found.
Their gazes locked as she undid his zipper. The rasp of sliding metal sounded impossibly intimate in the open space of the entryway.
Oh, God. The way he looked at her.
He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a square foil packet. Callie carefully worked his briefs over his erection. It stood straight and tall, pointing right at her. She unrolled the condom over him, but gasped when he gave a sharp yank on her clothes. He had her jeans and panties down to her knees before she could react. She reached for his shoulders when he lifted her. He used his foot to push her clothes the rest of the way off. He settled her back down on the pile, but caught the back of her thigh.
“Carter,” she said a little desperately when he pulled her leg around his waist.
He thrust into her, and her body melted.
He slowly pulled back, watching her reaction. Her eyes drifted shut in pleasure when he changed directions and began to push back in. He leaned down and ran his tongue across the pulse in her neck. She dragged her fingers down his bare back and felt the precise moment he gave in.
A curse left his lips, but then he was hitching her up higher until she had both legs wrapped around his waist. “Hold on, honey.”
Callie arched when he began to pump in a jagged, urgent rhythm. The feel of his big cock moving inside her was electric. She moved in sync with him, and the door rattled on its hinges with every thrust.
It was raw and overwhelming. Thrilling. Last night had been intimate and comforting, but this... this was the friction that always seemed to percolate between them. To finally give in to it, to go with the flow...
She dug her heels into his buttocks when she felt herself hurtling into an orgasm. “Carter!”
He jerked, and then he was coming with her. In the silence of the entryway, in the emptiness of the old, forgotten home, energy stirred. Overhead, the chandelier blinked. The light grew stronger until it was a steady beam.
Carter looked at her, his blue eyes heavy-lidded and sensual. He brushed his fingers over her hair and caught her up to him. “Let’s find that bed.”
Callie wrapped herself around him like a vine and peppered kisses across his shoulder as he carried her to her bedroom. The taut muscles twitched under her lips. He put her on the bed, and she watched as he stripped. She hadn’t realized it, but she’d only managed to push his jeans down to his thighs. He ridded himself of clothes, shoes, and the gun at his ankle. When he crawled onto the bed, it was to lie right on top of her. She squirmed in pleasure as she took his weight.
“Okay?” he asked quickly.
“Better than okay,” she said with a sigh.
She ran her toe down the back of his calf. She felt like she’d sprinted a mile. Her heart was still thudding against her ribcage, and her skin was coated in sweat. Their bodies clung together as if they didn’t want to be separated. For a long time, they lay still and quiet. She slowly ran her fingers up and down his spine. After a while, he let out a long breath that tickled her skin.
“In case you didn’t notice, I went a little nuts when you disappeared.” He lifted his head to look at her. “Don’t do it again.”
She let her hands wander lower. Mmm. Hardass was right.
“I kind of like it when you go nuts.”
He looked pained. “Just try,” he said. “For me?”
For him, she’d do just about anything right now. She let her fingers glide across his firm backside. Just. About. Anything.
He frowned grumpily, but covered her breast with his hand. He gently fondled her, and she moaned when he flicked her nipple.
“I think it’s time we set a few rules,” he said.
Her legs moved restlessly against his. “Rules?”
He propped himself up on an elbow. “Rule one. Until we figure out who’s messing with you, you have to promise me you won’t go wandering off on your own. I want someone with you.”
“You told me you’re understaffed.”
“It could be Alice or Mamie. I don’t care. I just don’t want you to be alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. David was with me.”
Carter scowled. “Don’t remind me.”
She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Please don’t be upset with him. He warned me not to go in by myself.”
“So why didn’t he go in with you?”
“I...” She didn’t know. As tough as David tried to act, she couldn’t picture him being afraid of a challenge. Or at least letting it show... But he absolutely, positively would not set foot inside her door. “He called you instead.”
“Yeah, and that’s the only thing saving him.”
“Okay, okay,” Callie said. She didn’t know why the two had to butt heads, but somebody had to play the grownup. “I’ll get an entourage.”
Carter looked relieved. Leveraging himself over her, he kissed her. “Good. Now, rule two—”
“Rule two?”
“Rule two. If you need help with painting or repairs, you ask me. Not David.”
“You can’t be jealous.”
He gave her nipple a quick pinch, and her back bowed. “You ask me.”
“Mm.” She settled back against the mattress. “You are good with a hammer.”
To her delight, color spread across his cheekbones.
He shook his head and got serious. “I’m done playing around with this house. We have to meet halfway on things. I know you have your own ideas on what’s happening here, but you’ve got to be more careful. Go ahead and do your research, but give a little credit to what I’m saying. Somebody—a human being—is behind these things. Pepper spray or not, you shouldn’t have come here without me.”
She scored lines across his shoulders and felt his muscles quiver.
His eyebrows drew together. “Why aren’t you arguing?”
“Do I have a say in these rules?”
He grunted. “I should have known.”
She smiled and pushed at his chest. He rolled onto his back and pulled her atop him. She liked this intimacy between them. She liked being able to talk to him. And touch him. She spread her hands wide on his chest. Touching was definitely a plus.
“Rule three,” she said, tracing the line of his collarbone. “From now on, you have to promise not to get defensive when I talk about Adelaide.”
His fingers bit into her hips.
“Halfway,” she reminded him.
“I’ll try.”
She let her touch slide down his arm. There was no give to his biceps at all. “Rule four. If something is bothering you, you have to tell me. That Morton case is going to make your hair gray before its time.”
He started to say something, but she stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips.
“Your stress has been showing, Carter.” She bracketed her hands on either side of his head to make sure she had his attention. “That shoulder of yours is tied in knots all the time. You need to talk to someone. Why not talk to me?” She smiled uneasily. “Some people actually seek out my advice.”
He went still. “You know I care what you think, don’t you?”
No, she didn’t. Not really.
He slid his hand around the nape of her neck. “Well, I do. One whole hell of a lot.”
He pulled her down to him, and Callie’s heart tripped over itself. The kiss they shared was hot and steamy, and it melted her from the inside out. She let her weight settle on him, and any thoughts of ghosts, spirits, and escaped convicts left the room.
He trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear. “Out of curiosity, what kind of stress relief would you advise?”
“A warm seaweed wrap can do wonders.”
He nipped her earlobe. “Wrong answer.” His hands swept down her back and settled on her hips. “Quick, Kate,” he whispered.
“Quick what?” she said, lifting her head.
Her eyes widened when he thrust up into her.
“Just quick,” he growled.