Haunted Hearts Read online

  Violet smiled up at her dad, who hugged her.

  “How old is your new big sister?”

  Violet looked at her father again and he raised his eyebrows. “Um, old. Like Rosie.”

  “I see. Anything else you remember about the girl? Does she have a name?”

  Violet shook her head. “She never telled me.” She patted her father’s knee rhythmically. “But she asked me where is E.J.? She wanted to find him.” Her eyes widened with recollection. “She asked me that a lot.”

  Ari’s head tilted. “E.J.? Do you know who that is?”

  “No. There’s a boy named Christopher in my class, though,” she offered.

  As he listened, Nick took mental notes. Though he wasn’t allowed to write or record anything, he knew that any small details he heard might end up being useful for Ari’s investigation.

  Or his story, he realized as an afterthought. Warmth settled in his core as he watched Ari interview the child and a sense of working with her surprised him.

  Ari smiled at the little girl. “Is Christopher your friend?”

  Violet shook her head vigorously. “He eats dirt. And one time he peed his pants in circle time.”

  Ari and Tom laughed. “Well, I can see why you’d have a problem with him!” Ari leaned forward and winked at Violet. “You have helped me a lot today, Violet. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome!” The little girl hopped up from her father’s lap. “Can we go to the swimming pool now, Daddy?”

  Chapter Six

  Two hours later Ari, Nick, Rocky and Samir were assembled around a small conference table in the church parish meeting room.

  “There’s something going on in that house.” Father Joe Perez placed mugs of tea in front of them. Rocky trained a small camera on the priest as he took his seat and nodded at Ari.

  “I’ve never seen an actual haunting, or a possession. None of my immediate colleagues have, either. We were taught about exorcism in divinity school,” he explained, “but most clergy never encounter reason to use those rites.” He hugged his mug and scanned the faces of the group. “But I can tell you, something is happening in that house. Something supernatural.”

  Ari fought a sensation in her belly—the vibration she’d first noticed when visiting Starling Pond—and warned herself to be careful not to be influenced by her imagination. She had to stay grounded and present.

  Nick’s energy was palpable next to her, his light blue aura seeming to envelop her. The scent of his body, the light spearmint of his breath, was both distracting and reassuring. Right or wrong, she was glad he was here with her. It made it easier somehow to question the priest.

  “Father Joe, with all due respect, how do you know it’s not one or both of the girls being stressed about school, or the recent move, for instance? There isn’t anything in the girls’ description of events that couldn’t be explained as the result of stress, or even coincidences.” Mostly.

  The priest stared out through a lead-paned window for a long moment, then focused his attention on her. “I’ve known Tom and Lindy Garcia for years. I officiated at their wedding. I baptized both girls. They’re a solid, loving family. There’s no problem there. I’m confident of that.” He fingered the crucifix that hung around his neck. “I’ve seen a lot in my thirty-seven years as a priest. My intuition is pretty good. And when I walked in that house, I felt something.”

  Beside Ari, Samir leaned forward with interest, but her own breath became shallow with dread. It was as if a wall inside her were beginning to crumble and the sensation of not being able to stop it was terrifying.

  Her analytic brain was rebelling. There couldn’t be anything paranormal happening. It was impossible.

  Yet her stomach clenched against another part of her, a different voice that whispered, You know the truth.

  The priest continued. “It didn’t feel evil, not exactly. It was more…disquiet. Maybe even grief.” He shook his head. “There’s a shadow of something there. The girls are in touch with it. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say it is in touch with them.”

  Rocky blanched and wobbled in his seat. Nick reached over to steady the camera and nodded in the direction of the door. Rocky rose quickly and made an exit. “Excuse my colleague, Father,” Nick said. “He freaks easily.”

  Father Joe was somber. “Your friend may be wise,” he admitted. “One should avoid unhappy spirits if possible. They can be dangerous.”

  Ari squared her shoulders and concentrated on the kind, safe aura emanating from the priest. “So, you think this is an unhappy spirit?”

  “I suspect it. As I said, my instinct says this is not a demonic possession. Neither of the girls are exhibiting behaviors that indicate the presence of an evil entity inhabiting them. While it’s not often we see anything akin to what you see in movies such as The Exorcist, there are reports of strange voices or languages emanating from children, or violent, bizarre or highly disturbing acts being perpetrated by otherwise sane and normal people.”

  Ari nodded. Good thing Rocky left.

  “A haunting, in contrast, indicates a ghost, a poltergeist or spirit that is distressed or in need of something. It tries to communicate with those of us among the living but is often frustrated. That’s when we hear of strange occurrences like Rosie and Violet are describing.” Father Joe tapped the table with urgency. “We need to decode what this ghost is trying to say before someone gets hurt.”

  “You think the ghost will up the ante, so to speak, in order to try to achieve whatever it is it needs?” Nick asked.

  “I know it will. And right now, Rosie and Violet Garcia are the ones it’s using, so they’re the most at risk.”

  Samir was all-business as he addressed Ari. “We need to spend the night in the house since that’s the best time for our equipment to sense activity without interference. So far, we haven’t picked up anything, but if we’re there, we can move the recorders around to maximize the chance of finding something useful.”

  Ari nodded absent-mindedly, thoughts racing. “Maybe. I need to think about it.” This investigation was not going to plan. She should have been drafting her report of no paranormal phenomenon by this point, putting together statistics from the recording equipment and curating the interview materials. “We need to have the girls evaluated by a psychiatrist specializing in child mental health,” she said, thinking aloud.

  Father Joe shook his head. “You won’t find anything except two well-adjusted children experiencing something no one can yet explain. And,” he continued, voice grave, “you’ll put them at risk of being seen as disturbed, psychotic even. It happens.”

  Nick turned to Ari. “Can we hold off on the psychiatric evaluations? Until we rule out everything else?” His voice was low, sympathetic. He was thinking of the girls, of what it would be like for them not to be believed, of the possible ramifications. And that wasn’t all. He’d said “we,” not “you,” implying he was working with her, alongside her. Strange. A warm buzz vied for attention with a snag of annoyance. This was her investigation.

  She realized everyone was waiting for her to answer and cleared her throat. “Let me think about it. But yes, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to wait a few days before I call in a psychiatrist. In the meantime, we’ll go back to the house—”

  “Yes!” Samir tried to downplay his fist pump. He was always eager to get more hands-on experience with the equipment and try for a potential ghost sighting. It was no secret he fully believed in paranormal activity and wanted to prove Ari wrong in her conviction otherwise.

  Ari threw him a look and continued. “But I want to do some research first. We’ll plan on tomorrow night. I’ll talk to the Garcias to arrange it. In order to be prepared, we’ll all need to be rested, so”—she addressed both Samir and Nick—“make sure you sleep late tomorrow or take an afternoon nap. We all need to be alert tomorrow night.”

  “You might not find much with the girls not there. Poltergeists only make themselves known to people who are o
pen to seeing and hearing them. That’s why children are often their target,” Father Joe warned them.

  Samir frowned. “What about adults?”

  The priest nodded. “Sometimes. Those who are clairvoyant, particularly. I’ve read of contemporary Wiccans who seem in touch with the spirit world.”

  Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Witches?

  “Who knows.” Father Joe shrugged. “A hundred years ago, any traditional priest would have told you all non-Christians are filled with the devil and destined for hell. But now?” He sighed. “The lines aren’t so clear. And if a Wiccan says she can conjure spirits and speak to them, who am I to argue?” His smile was rueful. “Like I said, I’ve seen countless things in my years in the clergy. Many of them remain a mystery to me.”

  He gestured to Ari. “I’d like to be part of this, spending the night at the house. Whatever you discover, the church has rites to offer.”

  Ari nodded, trying to quell the pounding of her heart. “It’s all right with me if it’s all right with Tom and Lindy, which I’m sure it will be.”

  They agreed to connect the next day and walked out to the parking lot. Samir frowned at Ari. “You look beat,” he said unapologetically, throwing a glance at Nick. “You’re not doing research tonight, are you?”

  Ari tried to smile. “A little. A few things I need to check on.”

  “Such as?”

  “The history of the house. The neighborhood. There’s too much we don’t know. I feel like we’re going into this thing blind. If I’m going to stay up all night, I need to know it’s worth it.”

  Samir got into his car. “Let me know what you want me to do, research-wise. I am your graduate lackey, you know.” He winked at Nick. “She likes to call the shots,” he said.

  Nick chuckled. “I’ve noticed.”

  Ari gestured to Samir to shut his car door. “See you tomorrow, errand boy.” The young man batted his eyelashes at her and drove away.

  Nick scanned the parking lot to make sure they were alone and put a hand on her back. “Dr. Fairchild.” His voice was so low, she could barely hear him. “Can I buy you dinner?”

  Damn him. She was trying to concentrate on work, on the most challenging case she’d ever investigated. The blizzard of conflicting thoughts and emotions inside her were disorienting, to say the least. And here he was, smelling good and looking sexy and acting supportive.

  And all she could think of when she looked at him was how his mouth had sent her to another dimension last night. It wouldn’t do.

  “Probably not a great idea,” she said. “My cats are feeling neglected, and I have research to do.”

  “I didn’t know you had cats.”

  “They’re shy.” Her cheeks heated. “They hid under the bed last night.”

  A tiny smile tugged at his mouth. “I don’t blame them.” He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing lightly. “Sounds like you need someone to pay a little attention to your cats and make you dinner. Or order take-out, whichever you prefer.” He leaned closer. “I recall a certain comment about lack of satisfaction, so I feel I owe you the balance. Which you can request in the form of food, or other domestic services,” he added quickly.

  That raised a smile, along with a zap of heat that sang in her blood. Tired, over-worked, worried…and lusting? What is this guy doing to me? She sighed. “Okay, you can come over—for a few minutes. You can order some food while I do my research, but that’s it. Seriously. I have a lot to do and I’m feeling…”

  How am I feeling? “A little off my normal routine with this investigation. I need to get my bearings.”

  Nick nodded. “Been there, done that. Let’s see if food helps. Italian? Thai? Indian?”

  “Thai. Not too spicy.”

  * * * *

  “I know who E.J. was.”

  Nick was nudged from his reverie, fantasizing about Ari’s silken hair and what it would be like to have it drape around him as she hovered naked on top of him…

  He sat on the couch with one and a half black cats on his lap. One was curled up asleep, the other draped across his thigh and the cushion and watching every move he made with vigilant golden eyes. He scooped the last bite of drunken noodles into his mouth and spoke over his shoulder to Ari, who was sitting behind him at her computer desk. “Tell me.”

  She unplugged her laptop and came to sit beside him. “Move over, Maya.” She nudged the cat splayed across Nick’s thigh and sat next to him. The disgruntled feline jumped down and stalked in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I thought this was Maya,” he said, nodding to the sleeping cat.

  “That’s Sojourner.”

  “I thought Sojourner was the one still under the bed.”

  Ari tsk-tsked with exasperation. “That’s Katherine Johnson. You’ll probably never see her. Do you want to know who E.J. was?”

  Nick studied the stunning profile of the woman next to him, wishing he could be the sensitive, emotionally evolved guy she deserved. Though maybe she wouldn’t even want that. She was seriously intellectual. It might disgust her to see his gentler side. Not a chance I want to take.

  He ventured an arm around her shoulder and leaned in to look at her laptop. “Enlighten me.”

  Ari stiffened at his touch, then softened slightly, though he could tell it was an effort. “It took me about thirty seconds to find it.” She pointed to a spot on the screen. “County tax records. The house at 1414 Starling Pond Drive was owned by one Earnest Jenkins until three years ago. It went into probate and was sold to the Garcias this past summer.” She scrolled down. “The house was built in 1928 by Mabel and Armistead Jenkins. It passed into Earnest’s hands in 1972, presumably when Mabel and or Armistead died.”

  Nick nodded. “So Earnest is E.J. Sounds like a plausible explanation.”

  “Yeah.” Ari bit her lip. “I’m not sure what it means. There’s no other information here. The family doesn’t show up on Ancestry.com and Earnest isn’t showing up anywhere, either. He lived in that house but doesn’t seem to have any recorded existence outside of that. It’s weird.”

  He stroked the sleeping Sojourner, who stretched and snuggled back down. He’d never been a cat person, so this felt like a win. “Looks like I’ve convinced this one I’m okay.”

  Ari rolled her eyes. “Don’t get cocky. She likes everybody.”

  “Hey. I thought she was shy.”

  “Shy doesn’t mean selective.” Ari snapped the laptop shut. “I’m not sure where else to go with this. The library is an option, or the courthouse. I could look up birth and death records.” She tapped her foot, thinking. “Some old records aren’t available online.”

  He strummed her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm. “Or you could have Samir do that and you and I could sleep late in the morning, make love then sleep some more. What do you say?”

  The tension in her body returned and she faced him. Her eyes were sad. “Tempting, Devlin, but I need to stay focused. Plus…” She glanced away for only a second but fear spiked in him. Was she going to cut this off? This thing that hadn’t even quite begun? It startled him how much he didn’t want that to happen.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on with me,” she admitted. “This case is… Well, it’s challenging. I need time to process it. And you are… ” She looked back up at him. “Honestly, you’re distracting. In a way that confuses me.”

  He drew a breath, removed his arm from around her shoulder and framed her face with his hands. “It’s not me you’re afraid of. You know that, right?”

  For a long moment she said nothing. Had he gone too far? He dropped his hands and let her be. Her gaze went out of the darkened front window, her eyes far away. At last, she spoke. “When I was a kid, all I wanted was to belong. I was always the weird kid, the misfit. I had glasses and read all the time. My best friend all through elementary school was someone even stranger than I was. We were each other’s lifelines but sort of ruined our respective chances of making other
friends. We were the dysfunctional duo.” She laughed mirthlessly. “My mother coined that term and thoughtfully told me about it when I was in middle school. Part of her ongoing attempt to make light of my social challenges.”

  “Sounds hard.”

  Ari waved away his comment. “It wasn’t that bad. I had a decent childhood overall. My parents loved me. I had everything I needed. But I learned to be independent and not expect much from others. I didn’t need much from others, though, it would have been nice to feel normal.” She put a hand on his thigh, and he went still under the warmth of her touch. “But I never have. Not ever.”

  He placed his hand on top of hers and laced their fingers. “Normal is overrated,” he murmured. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm, then held it against his chest. “Whatever you are, I like it.” A surge of wanting ran through him. “You’re crazy smart, interesting and different. And watching you with the Garcia girls, I was…” Careful, he admonished himself. Don’t act like a wuss. “Uh, impressed. With your professional bearing.”

  Ugh. That sounds robotic. “What I mean is,” he started again, “you were really good with them. You made them feel safe. It was sweet.” That was true and he hoped it didn’t sound overly emotional.

  Ari smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re flattering me because you want to get in my pants.”

  He laughed but shook his head. “Give me some credit, Dr. Fairchild. I am a trained observer. And I’ve had enough contact with children in my life to know when an adult can relate to them and make them feel comfortable. It’s a skill. Though with you, it looks pretty natural.” He draped his arm around her shoulders again, noting that she didn’t stiffen up this time. “Considering what those little girls have been going through, it’s kind of miraculous the way you got them to open up. Don’t short yourself on credit for that.”

  Ari’s eyes widened slightly. “Thank you.” She leaned into him, warm and soft and delicious against his side.

  He lowered his mouth to nuzzle at her ear. “But, full disclosure, I also do want to get into your pants.”