Chasing Shadows Read online

  It was Avery’s turn to blush, thankful that Cam couldn’t see her reaction in the darkness. “Just snippets. I YouTube’d it on my phone at the hospital to kill some time. They make you wait forever there, you know,” she said, as if that would explain it away. The first video she’d watched had been exactly that. The others, though, had been more to see Cam. She never dressed flashy on the show and her make-up was always a simple, girl-next-door dusting of powder that seemed to highlight the splash of freckles that adorned her cheeks. But there was something about the way she carried herself, exuding a warmth and a confidence that ‘real-life’ Cam seemed to keep hidden, that made Avery crave more. Especially the episode in Scotland that had Cam wearing a kilt. That one she’d watched twice.

  “Mmhmm.” Cam didn’t sound convinced.

  “So anyway…” Avery cleared her throat, eager to keep the conversation from going down that particular rabbit hole. “It’s an act on your part, is what you’re saying?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Then why after a hundred and twenty-three episodes of fake ghost hunting did you suddenly run into a real-life ghost? What happened to change that?”

  Cam blew out a long breath. “I wish I knew. I can’t think of anything.”

  “Nothing outside the ordinary has happened?”

  “You mean other than my great-aunt passing away? No.”

  “Hmm.” Feeling an itch on her injured palm, Avery began to scratch at it through the bandage. “Have you had any recent traumatic events or injuries? I remember reading a Stephen King book about a guy who went into a coma and when he came out, he could see the future or something like that.”

  “Oh yeah, I know the one you’re talking about. No, nothing like that. Well…I did fall the other day while cleaning off a bookshelf at Loralyn’s. I hit my head on the hardwood floor when I landed and saw stars for a few minutes.”

  Avery bit back a yawn. “Maybe that’s it.”

  “Don’t be silly, Avery. People get hit in the head every day. The idea that I’m seeing ghosts because of a bump on the head is ridiculous.”

  Avery had to admit that she was right. Considering the knock on the head she herself had had earlier in the day, Avery would hate to think that—

  “Ghosts?”

  “What?”

  Avery rolled onto her side to face Cam. She could just make out the silhouette of her body lying on the bed. At Avery’s movement, Cam turned her head to stare back, her eyes reflecting the slightest glint of light in the room.

  “You just said ghosts. Plural.”

  Cam shifted on the mattress, looking away from Avery and up at the ceiling. “You know what I meant.”

  Tapping her fingers on the mattress, Avery rolled back their conversation through her mind until the pieces fell into place. She propped up on her elbow and looked down at Cam. “How many ghosts have you seen, Cam?”

  “What? I told you—”

  “No,” Avery interrupted, not waiting for Cam to evade the question. “You said you hadn’t ever seen a ghost before the one at the Johnston house.”

  “Yes, Avery.” Cam let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s what I said.”

  “What about after? Have you seen any ghosts since that one?” Cam’s breathing stilled and she fell silent. As the seconds turned into minutes, Avery prodded, “Cam?”

  “What about you?” came the quiet response. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  It was a complete non-answer, but Avery figured it was the best she was going to get. “Not particularly, no” she said, shaking her head.

  “So, then, you think I’m making all this up?”

  Avery considered the question before answering, “I think you believe you’re seeing something. What that something is remains to be seen.”

  Another sigh escaped from Cam’s side of the bed, this one followed by a yawn. “If you don’t mind, it’s late, and I’d rather we stop talking about this now. As a matter of fact, if you don’t mind forgetting I ever mentioned it in the first place, that’d be great.” With that, Cam rolled away from Avery and pulled the covers close around her.

  Avery arched an eyebrow at Cam’s dismissive tone. “Is that goodnight, then?”

  “Goodnight, Avery.”

  A part of Avery wanted to press the issue. The other, the part that won out, was tired as hell. Deciding to table the discussion for another time, she settled back into the covers. “‘Night,” she said before closing her eyes and allowing sleep to overtake her.

  ****

  Cam had lain awake long after the conversation with Avery ended, reliving the encounter at the Johnston house and the one with Jennifer at the police station over and over again in her mind. She’d finally given up the ghost, as it were, somewhere around two a.m., lulled to sleep by the exotic combination of sheer exhaustion and the rhythmic sound of Avery snoring.

  Now, waking in the early hours of the morning, she slowly became aware of a couple things at once, the first of those being the glorious aroma of bacon creeping into the room and tickling at Cam’s nose, gently nudging her awake. It’d been ages since she’d smelled—or eaten, for that matter—the unmistakable smell of real bacon frying on cast iron. The last time had to have been at Loralyn’s house, Cam decided as she opened her eyes. She and her mother had visited for Christmas the year after Cam had started on Chasing Shadows, and stayed with Loralyn for three days. Loralyn had not yet been diagnosed with the cancer that would eventually shorten her life, and had cooked enough food to feed an army. Cam had gained at least five pounds that trip and upon her return to California, Shaye promptly signed her up for a gym membership.

  The other thing that Cam became aware of as she moved to full wakefulness was Avery pressed against her body. It took a moment for Cam to realize that at some point during the night she had taken up the ‘big spoon’ position and now had her arm wrapped intimately around the sleeping woman. Secondary to that realization was the feel of Avery’s breast beneath her hand. While it had been a while—although not as long as since she’d last eaten bacon—there was no mistaking the feel of supple flesh beneath a cotton shirt, nor the rigid nipple that comfortably fit in the palm of her hand. Horrified, she slowly drew her hand back, careful not to wake Avery, and eased away. Satisfied that she’d not waken her, Cam slowly inched toward her side of the bed, finally rolling over to face in the opposite direction.

  She was met with the wide-eyed stare of an elderly woman with pinkish-blonde hair.

  A chain reaction of piercing shrieks followed that started with Cam and was almost simultaneously matched by one from the elderly woman as she stumbled and then sprinted out of the room faster than Cam would have given her credit for being able to move, and ended with the one that Avery gave as she shot up out of the bed, took a step, then promptly fell over.

  “What the ever-loving fuck?” Avery barked as she picked herself up off the bedroom floor.

  Mortified and out of breath, Cam looked at Avery and then back at the doorway. “There was a woman,” she stammered. “She was just standing there staring at us and…um…she scared me.”

  Avery stared at Cam, her eyes narrowing as they shifted between the doorway and Cam. “It’s way too damned early for this.” Avery heaved an exasperated sigh before rubbing her temple. “That was probably Jane.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cam said sheepishly. Lord, I’m on a roll this morning…

  Avery shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably time to get up anyway.” She yawned and then rolled her neck as she began walking toward the door. “I’m going to go investigate that bacon I smell cooking.”

  Cam had to admit that sounded like the best idea she’d heard in days. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go, uh, freshen up and then I’ll join you.”

  “Don’t feel like you have to rush. The kitchen is down the hallway and to the right when you’re done.”

  Cam made short work of washing her face and changing back into the clothes she’d worn the da
y before. Avery didn’t have anything that resembled perfume in the bathroom, so Cam had made do with spraying the clothes with dry shampoo in a half-hearted attempt to freshen them up. She’d left the bedroom and was halfway down the narrow hallway when she heard the sound of a muffled argument.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to bring some floozie home? Poor Jane nearly had the life scared out of her, what with her walking in on the two of you shacked up in bed like that.”

  “We weren’t shacked up in bed, and it’s not some floozie,” she heard Avery say. “It’s Cam.”

  “What the hell is a Cam?” That she recognized as Mildred Smith’s voice.

  “Not what, who,” Avery replied. “You know, Loralyn’s great-niece.”

  There was a short pause followed by, “Oh, that bitch.”

  Seriously? A quick pulse of anger hit Cam, bringing a scowl to her face. Determined that she wasn’t going to give the old biddy the satisfaction of knowing that she’d gotten a rise out of her, Cam paused to take a calming breath just outside the doorway.

  “Grandma! She’s just down the hallway.”

  “Don’t worry, Avery,” Cam drawled, stepping fully into the kitchen. “I’ve been called worse by better people.”

  Her salt and pepper hair still in rollers, Mildred’s eyes flashed as she took a step forward. “Now listen here, you—”

  “Grandma, that’s enough.” Avery swept her gaze from Mildred to Cam. “From both of you. Whatever happened the other day…well…happened. You two need to get the fuck over it and move on.”

  “Well, aren’t you just the United Nations this morning.”

  “Grandma…” Avery warned.

  “Now, Millie,” Jane took a step forward and put a hand on Mildred’s arm. “Avery is right. We need to let bygones be bygones.”

  Lips pressed tight, Mildred tossed the petite woman a sideways glance before giving a quick nod. Mildred moved to the kitchen table, making a production out of loudly pulling out and sitting down in one of its chairs.

  “Cam?” The look that Avery was giving her was a murky mixture of exasperation and apologetic anger.

  Be the bigger person, Cam told herself as she walked by Avery and sat down in the chair opposite Mildred.

  “Now,” Jane chirped in an obvious attempt to break the tension, “who wants breakfast?”

  A few minutes later, a détente of sorts had settled across the kitchen and what was quite possibly the largest plate of food that Cam had ever seen sat before her. At home, if she ate breakfast at all, it was typically something along the lines of a bagel and a coffee. Cam surveyed the mountain of eggs, bacon, grits, and biscuits that filled her plate before glancing over at Avery, who was using a thick piece of bacon to scoop the eggs on her plate onto half a biscuit.

  How in the hell can she eat like this every day and still look that amazing?

  Avery laid the bacon on top of the eggs, topping the combination with the other half of the biscuit. Seeming to feel Cam’s eyes on her, she glanced up to meet them. Avery’s lips quirked up into a half smile and she winked before hefting up and biting into the biscuit.

  Cam licked her lips, finding that she was suddenly hungry for something other than bacon.

  “Don’t you have a ghost to hunt or something?”

  At the sound of the clipped words, she turned her attention to Mildred, whose expression told her that she’d seen the exchange between Cam and her granddaughter and didn’t like it. Cam suddenly found herself wondering how much Jane had seen earlier in the bedroom and what she’d relayed to Mildred about it.

  “Now, Millie…”

  Cam smiled across the table at Jane, who continued to play the part of peacemaker as she patted Mildred’s arms.

  “It’s okay,” Cam said, fixing a stare on Mildred. “I think Detective Hobbs is supposed to be here soon to pick us up, so I won’t be in your way much longer.”

  “You are not in the way,” Avery grumbled in between bites of biscuit. “Grandma…”

  Mildred rolled her eyes at Avery’s warning tone. She opened her mouth as if to spout off a snappy retort and then, just as quickly, closed it. Sitting straighter in her chair, she frowned, “Avery, what happened to your hand?”

  “Nothing,” Avery mumbled, placing her injured hand off the table and out of sight. “I just scratched it at work yesterday.”

  Mildred looked decidedly unconvinced. “Mmmhmm…a scratch, huh? So, what—they ran out of Band-aids at the police station and you had to wrap a tiny scratch in a big old gauze bandage?” Jane leaned over and whispered in Mildred’s ear. In response, Mildred’s eyebrows rose, and she gave a slow nod. She sat back straight in her chair before continuing, “The kind of bandage one gets from the hospital? You want to tell me what really happened?”

  Avery heaved a sigh. “Seriously, Grandma, it’s—”

  “What about you, missy?” Mildred turned on Cam, not waiting for Avery to finish. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Or for that matter…” she said as she folded her arms. “…why you’re curled up in my granddaughter’s bed like it’s old home week?”

  Damn. Jane had seen them earlier. “I don’t know—”

  “Cam,” Avery interrupted with a wave of her hand before turning her attention to Mildred. “Grandma, you’re overreacting. Okay, there was a small little incident yesterday. I tripped over some, uh, lawn equipment. I got a little bump on the head and a cut on my hand. Because it happened on duty, I had to go to the hospital to get checked out.”

  “Mmhmm.” For her part, Mildred looked unconvinced. “And where do you fit into all of this?” she asked Cam.

  “Cam was helping us on a case,” Avery said before Cam could muster an answer. “It got late, so I invited her to stay over to make it easier for us to get an early start this morning.”

  Technically, that was all true, Cam mused, wondering why Avery was trying to keep the full scale of the details of yesterday’s incident from her grandmother. That thought was secondary, though, to that of helping Avery on Jennifer’s investigation. She knew that Avery had said it as a deflection, but still…

  “Is that right?” Mildred drawled before taking a sip of her coffee. “And the two of you just happened to end up in bed together?”

  “That was my idea.”

  “Oh, I bet it was,” Mildred murmured in response to Cam’s quick statement.

  Feeling her cheeks burning, Cam continued, “Avery offered to sleep on the couch, but—”

  “You don’t owe an explanation,” Avery said, shaking her head. “It was strictly platonic, Grandma. Rather than either of us suffer on that torture device you call a couch, I took one side of the bed and she took the other.” Cam noticed the exchange of glances between Mildred and Jane, one that Avery thankfully seemed to miss. “Look,” she continued, “Hobbs should be here soon to carry us back to the station. The lot of you are welcome to sit here and bicker about foolishness in the meantime, but I’m going to finish my breakfast.” With that, Avery took another bite of her biscuit.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “She sure is nice.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Ms. Reinhart, I mean.”

  “I know who you’re talking about, Hobbs,” Avery said, eyes fixed on the scenery flashing by the Chevy Impala’s passenger window at fifty-five miles per hour.

  “Oh, okay. I wasn’t sure. You’ve been awful quiet since we dropped her off at her car.”

  Avery didn’t think she had actually been all that talkative before she and Hobbs had driven Cam to the Jackson Real Estate Agency, where Cam’s rental car had been parked. But, Avery had to admit that he was right. Since Hobbs had arrived at the house to pick them up, her thoughts had been split between the conversation with Cam the night before and the murder investigation that was, in her opinion, already precariously close to getting cold.

  “I’m just a little tired,” she finally murmured as Hobbs flicked on the turn signal to make the turn into the Sheriff’s Depar
tment parking lot. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. But…” She stretched her neck and rolled the shoulder that still ached from the fall down Jennifer Morris’s steps. “…nothing that a strong cup of coffee won’t cure.”

  “Gotcha,” he said. “If you want, we can make a quick run to the Starbucks?”

  “Nah,” she said. “We’re here. I can make do with what’s in the breakroom.”

  Nodding, Hobbs drove into the parking lot, slowing down almost immediately to yield to a group of deputies walking from the station to their patrol cars, before finally wheeling the sedan into a parking spot marked “Reserved for Detective Division”. Avery made no move to exit the vehicle after he turned off the ignition, and instead sat staring absently out the windshield at the sign.

  “Avery?” Hobbs asked quietly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Do you believe in ghosts?” she asked, turning to gauge his reaction to the question.

  “Like them that Ms. Reinhart hunts on TV?” At Avery’s nod, he continued. “Maybe. Some of those shows that my mama watches look fake to me, but some of them…” He frowned and bit down on his lower lip. “When we was kids, we’d ride our bikes out to the old railroad bridge that crosses over the Coosa River. My brother’s friends said they’d heard it was haunted by the ghost of a conductor who fell off the train back in the 1920s and died right there.”

  “Did you ever see anything when you went out there?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head as he jingled the car keys in one hand. “But it was spooky as hell. And a couple times it just felt weird, if you know what I mean.”

  Avery arched an eyebrow. “Weird how?”

  “Just weird.” He shrugged. “Like, it would be the middle of summer and a hundred degrees outside but then you’d walk across the bridge and all of a sudden feel like you were in a freezer.”

  “Hmm, that is strange.” Not sure what else to say to that, she opened the car door. “Well, this murder isn’t going to solve itself. We better go on in and get started.”