southern ghost hunters 01 - southern spirits (8 page)

Chapter Seven

He slowed as he approached. "Verity Long," he drawled, as if he expected me to be caught red-handed in the woods after midnight. 

Damn the man and his assumptions.

Ellis Wydell was as handsome as the rest of the men in his family, which was to say drop-dead gorgeous. He stood tall and lean, with broad shoulders, bulk in all the right places, and a dimple in his chin that deepened when he smiled same as when he frowned. 

I planted a hand on my hip and waited as he drew the flashlight over me. "You get a good look?" I asked. I wasn't armed and I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not at the moment, anyhow.

His piercing hazel eyes raked over me. "We had report of a trespass."

"Maisie and I were just visiting," I said. That might have been the lamest excuse ever, but it's not like I'd ever planned to get caught.

His eyes narrowed. "I was addressing the property owner."

Right. Well, then he should stop looking at me.

"It's good to see you again, Ellis," Maisie said, hurrying to latch the box of money and stuff it under her arm. "He likes to check up on me." 

"I heard gunshots," he said, before saddling her with a long pause, one that would encourage her to spill her guts, no doubt.

She looked like Lucy when that darned skunk stole the potatoes out from under my sink—guilty as sin. I wanted to assure Maisie it was quite legal how she'd come about her fortune, and how she'd loaned me some, but the less we said to Wydell the better. 

She patted at an errant tuft of hair that was sticking straight out. "You're absolutely right, young man, I did fire my gun." She cleared her throat. "I thought I saw a bear. Only it was Verity."

"And she stopped shooting as soon as she knew," I added, as if that meant I belonged here.

Ellis stood for a moment, his forehead crinkling as if he couldn't quite believe that was our official story. People must try to sell him on bull all the time, but I had a feeling our explanation went beyond the pale. For a split second, I actually pitied the man. 

He moved closer to Maisie and placed a comforting arm on her shoulder. "Why are you giving this woman money?" he asked her.

Oh, so now I was
this woman.
 

Maisie chewed at her lip, and for a second I thought she was going to spill the whole story. "It was a loan," she said, quickly. It didn't sound good, even if it was the truth.

His radio buzzed and he answered it. "Officer Wydell." He might have turned his back, but his manner suggested this was far from over.

The radio crackled with static.
"Requesting update on shots fired off Saw Mill Road."

He lifted the speaker to his mouth and acted like it was our fault when he had to say, "Subject believed she saw a…bear."

"A black one," Maisie added.

He ignored her. "No injuries."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You know, you'd think in all his years on the force, he wouldn't be so put out by a wildlife sighting."

Maisie's mouth fluttered into a brief smile, but I could tell from the way Ellis's eyes narrowed that he was fast losing patience.

"I'm going to stay and ask the witnesses a few more questions," he reported to the dispatcher before signing off.

Lovely. Maisie looked like she'd just drunk about ten cups of coffee. As long as she didn't break, we'd make this work. We'd get rid of Ellis, say our goodbyes. I'd thank her profusely. Again. 

And then I'd get right home and call my real estate agent. 

The sale would be off—at least for tomorrow.

Ellis tucked his radio into his belt and strolled straight for me. The man was bound and determined to make this hard. Well, I'd been through plenty tonight already, and I think I'd proven that I didn't scare easy. 

Still, that didn't mean I wasn't affected. Ellis towered over me. He was taller than his brother, lean and tan. It was as if he'd been born to be more intimidating, more rugged. 

He regarded me as if the intensity of his gaze would let him see straight into me. For a brief moment, I wondered what it would be like to have a man look at me like that when he wasn't trying to figure out if I was up to something nefarious. "Want to tell me what really happened?" 

 I tilted my chin up. "I was out walking."

"Ten miles from your home. In the dark," he added, not being helpful at all.

"I needed to clear my mind," I said. "As you and your brother must realize, I'm having some difficulties as of late."

He clenched his jaw. "I know. I was there when you threw the engagement ring at him. You hit me in the forehead."

"I was aiming for
him
," I said, keeping my tone lofty. Besides, Officer Wydell had surely been hit by worse than a flying two-carat princess-cut diamond.

"Bad move for a gold digger," he mused.

For the love of Pete. "Ever stop to think I might have had a good reason for leaving your baby brother?"

He was back on me in a second. "Then tell me," he demanded. 

"Ask him," I said, knowing Beau would never tell the truth. He'd threatened me with my sister's job if I ever said anything, and I knew he wasn't bluffing. She was a part-time employee at the library and he was on the board. 

Ellis sighed, put out. "Can you at least tell me what happened tonight?"

Not quite. "It was a misunderstanding," I offered.

A muscle in his cheek twitched and he didn't even notice the unearthly breeze ruffling his dark hair. "She shot at you," he said, with no trace of irony, as if he'd been there.

"Not really," I said. She'd hit the house.

We were both fine. In fact, we'd gotten a lot done tonight. We solved some of our problems, made a few bucks, and everyone was going home happy.

If Officer Ellis Wydell would let us.

 But he was like a duck on a June bug.

"Come with me," he said, walking me back to his patrol car. 

I went along willingly. Sort of. "I'm not under arrest, am I?"

He gave me a slanted look. There was that dimple again. "Now why would you think that?" 

"Because that's the only way you'd get me in the backseat of your car." 

I said it to shock him and it worked, although I didn't count on the mild blush creeping up my cheeks.

Ellis was two years older than my ex. Beau was the youngest, then Ellis, then Harrison as you went up. Harrison was a fancy pants judge who loved having his name in the papers. Beau was a big-shot lawyer, just like his dad. Ellis had stunned them all by opting out of the family business and going into law enforcement.

Truth be told, I hadn't seen much of Ellis over the years. The middle brother had always been somewhat of a mystery—elusive, taciturn. He hadn't gotten wrapped up in family politics. He loved the law for its own sake, which was quite unfortunate for me at the moment.

The police cruiser's flashing lights made me wince. I knew he was only doing his job, and a tough one at that, but I hated being the cause of his late-night investigation. I had to tell him, "This is all rather innocent."

"I'll bet." He leaned in close enough for me to catch the scent of him, a pure male earthiness that had nothing to do with perfume counters or aftershave. What you saw was what you got, it seemed. He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "My brother said you were sly."

Of all the— "That's not fair."

Ellis Wydell had known me all my life and ignored me for a good portion of it. I didn't even see him much when I dated Beau. The brothers didn't run in the same social circles. 

Then Ellis had been off in Virginia at some FBI institute for police, and now he was back, poking his nose in where he wasn't wanted, ready to judge me on a word and a glance and a pile of bills I'd stuffed into my pocket.

"I didn't mean any harm," I told him. "Truly." I wasn't exactly sure why, but it was important for him to understand that.

He simply opened the back door. "Get in the car."

Right. Of course. I had to wait here while he got the facts from someone he trusted.

My heart sank as I eased inside. It didn't matter what Ellis thought, I tried to convince myself. He was one person, a biased one at that. 

"Now you stay here," he warned, before he closed the door.

I watched him walk back, squirming a little in my seat. Maisie was a loose cannon, and it seemed like those two had a pretty good relationship. 

Still, he had nothing on us as long as we stuck to the truth. And that was good because I had to get out of here and use the three thousand dollars that was burning a hole in my pocket.

In the meantime, I felt rather small sitting in the backseat of the police cruiser.

I'd never been in one before. The smooth vinyl seat felt hard against my backside, very different from my well-worn velvet cushions in the Cadillac. Steel mesh separated me from the front seat, where the radio buzzed with reports of police activity in progress. 

Reckless driver on Alvin York Boulevard.

Stumbling drunk at the Circle K on Fifth and Main.

Surely either of those was more urgent than a girl escaping a haunted house with a pile of money.

Ellis returned to Mrs. Hatcher. I couldn't read the widow's expression. She stood several yards away, out of the light cast by the headlights of the patrol car. Yet I saw her hands flutter near her neck. She'd better not be telling him about the locket. Not when I couldn't show it to him.

It was all facts with him, nothing else. I tried to tell myself that his good opinion of me didn't matter a whit.

That his words hadn't hurt. 

I tucked my long hair back behind my ears and straightened my sundress around me. I'd never had anyone think the worst of me until The Incident. Now it happened far more than I liked. But no one had ever been as blunt or as bold as Ellis. That man was in a league of his own.

At this point, nothing should have startled me, but still, I jumped when Frankie shimmered into view in the seat next to me. 

He glanced from the dash-mounted GPS system to the lit-up police computer crowding the front seat. "The fuzz has gotten fancier over the years." He ran a hand over the seat between us and gave me a pointed look, like he was instructing a six-year-old to stay out of the street. "You realize now is the time to run."

"I'm not a criminal." Not really. "You of all people should know that." I shifted to face him. "And speaking of running, why'd you leave me alone in a haunted house with a poltergeist inside?"

He let out a huff. "You gotta be kidding me. I held off the crazy mamma so you could get the loot."

"Fine job you did. The spirit ambushed me."

He pursed his lips. "Well, maybe if you hadn't spent so much time yakking about your love life, you could've gotten out of there before she got tired of me. And before the cops showed up."

"Oh, so this is my fault?" I began. 

A harsh chill whipped through the police cruiser. "Zip it," barked a voice from the front.

A ghostly figure glowered at us from the front passenger seat. He wore a tan Sugarland Sheriff's Department uniform with black trim and a gold badge. He had to be at least sixty, but he was built as solid as a drill sergeant. He wore his gray hair in a crew cut and his nametag read: Hale.

He wasn't black and white, and he wasn't as translucent as Frankie, but he was definitely a ghost.

I turned to Frankie. "How come I can see him in color?"

The gangster shrugged. "He probably hasn't been dead that long."

My heart lodged in my throat. So this Officer Hale was as real as Frankie or Josephine. I flopped against the seat. "Oh my God, I can't believe I'm seeing random ghosts now."

"You asked," Frankie shot back.

Hale raised his brows and I was almost perversely glad to see I'd surprised him. "She knows I'm here?"

"Verity Long," I said, reaching out a hand and then thinking the better of it. I gave him a short wave instead. "Pleased to meet you." 

The officer answered my wave with a stern frown. "I'd say you're in a lot of trouble, young lady." He gave Frankie a stony look. "And you've always been bad news."

Frankie sneered. "How do you know? It looks like you just got here."

"Word gets around," Hale shot back.

Lordy. "Okay, stop." Maybe he could help us out. "We're suffering from a misunderstanding," I said. "Your police buddy seems to think there's a problem here and there isn't."

Hale braced an arm on the seat between us as he twisted around. "Wydell's a damn fine officer. As for you…" He assessed me coolly. "What I don't get is why you had to leave that poor boy at the altar. Little Beau didn't deserve that."

Heavens to Betsy. Now I was taking flack from the dead. 

Besides, 'Little Beau' was twenty-eight. "I didn't leave him," I said automatically. "I mean, yes, I refused to marry him, but—"

Hale grunted his disapproval. "You found out he didn't have as much cash as you thought and so you called it off. Guess my nephew was lucky to be rid of you."

I drew in a sharp breath. "Hardly." Now I remembered who this guy was. One of Beau's uncles was a police officer who'd been killed in the line of duty. I barely knew him.

"Now we've got you red handed, taking money from an old lady," he said.

"Is that what you think?" Of all the… "Does Ellis know you're here?" 

The ghost didn't answer. Instead, he pulled a pack of Marlboro cigarettes out of the front pocket of his patrol uniform. He knocked the pack twice against the seat and pulled out a smoke.

I crossed my arms over my chest and hunkered down in my seat. "Those things can kill you, you know."

He didn't even look at me as he felt his pockets for a lighter. "So can a bullet." 

Frankie pulled out a box of Tiger Head matches from his front suit pocket and struck one against the seat of the cruiser. He held it out to Hale and the officer leaned forward for a light. He breathed in a long drag of his cigarette and nodded to Frankie. "I keep forgetting I left my lighter under the steps."