Chasing Shadows Read online

  Glaring up at Avery, Cam took a step back. “I’ve never made a ghost on one of my hunts, Detective Smith, but there’s a first time for everything.” Trembling, but apparently finding strength in Avery’s failed attempt at humor, Cam took in a deep breath and faced the darkened hall. “Roxanne,” she called out, “Please calm down and talk to us. Whatever happened to you was a long time ago, and it’s over now. It’s all in the past and no one is here to hurt you again. We want to help you if we can.” She glanced at Avery, who nodded back encouragingly.

  “Can you tell us where you are? Where did this Buddy put your body?”

  This time, though they listened and tried calling out for another five minutes, the white noise was insistently free of any voices. The entire atmosphere had changed as well. It had gotten lighter somehow. Not nearly so oppressive.

  “I think she’s done,” Avery said, switching off the box. “At least for now. Come on, you’re as pale as a ghost yourself. Let’s go downstairs. I think you need to sit down for a minute…we both do.”

  Taking Cam’s elbow in a custodial grip, Avery steered her to the stairs. She didn’t like the trembling in Cam’s whole body or the fear in her eyes. She needed to settle down and rest a bit, because she seemed truly unnerved, or maybe it was Roxanne’s spirit who was affecting her. Either way, Avery decided, a break in the action was definitely called for. The stairs were too narrow to navigate side by side, so Avery went first, holding to the rail with one hand and the heavy ghost box with the other. When she got to the bottom of the steps, Avery turned to look back at Cam and when she did, she saw a girl standing at the top of the stairs looking down at them. The figure looked as solid as Cam was. And then it vanished.

  Startled, Avery gasped and jumped back.

  Cam’s reaction to Avery looking over her shoulder and making such a sound was instantaneous. She made a panicked lunge for the last step, missed, and fell against Avery, knocking both of them off balance and onto the hard, wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs.

  Avery lay with her eyes closed for a long moment, attempting to catch her breath beneath the Cam-sized weight that rested on top of her. After flexing the muscles of her legs and arms with only minimal pain, she was satisfied that she’d managed to land in one piece. She opened her eyes, face to face with Cam, who at least had the common decency to look apologetic.

  “You’ve seriously got to stop doing that,” Avery groaned.

  Blushing, Cam scrambled off atop Avery, making an awkward twisty roll, finally coming to rest on her knees. She leaned forward, looking back up the empty stairwell and then down at Avery. “What the hell, Avery? Why did you do that? You nearly scared me half to death.”

  Avery pushed herself up on her elbows and was about to answer when an annoyingly familiar voice sounded from right behind her, near the door.

  “Whatcha doing, Smith, laying down on the job?”

  ****

  Cam’s first impulse was to get up and kick Detective Bishop’s ass, but when she tried to move, her back ached in protest, followed promptly by a pain in her right knee. She settled for a scowl instead and slid up on the last stair riser to sit down while Avery got back up to her feet and turned to face their visitors.

  “Bishop,” Avery gritted out. “And Chief Ramsey? What are you two doing here?”

  Before the Chief Deputy could answer, Bishop jumped in. “We might just ask you the same question, Smith. The Chief put you on leave for a few days, didn’t he?”

  Cam jumped to Avery’s defense. “I’ve hired her. Well, we have…the production company has. As private security.”

  Avery raised an eyebrow at that declaration, then gave a small nod that told Cam she approved of the quick-thinking answer. That was one aspect of the plan they hadn’t talked about in advance.

  “I see,” Ramsey said slowly. “Well, that’s good to hear. Actually, the sheriff was a little worried about all the commotion out this way.” He smiled and nodded at Cam. “Not your fault, ma’am. We know that. It’s just the town hasn’t had visitors like you and your production company before, and the sheriff doesn’t want there to be any trouble.”

  “I assure you they won’t get it from my crew, Chief Ramsey,” Cam said, drawing herself up a bit. “My assistant producer has all our permits in place and the proper permission from the owners.” She said a quick prayer that she was correct in that. But, knowing Shaye, Cam was sure she’d done all of that before she ever arrived. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check as soon as the two men left.

  “That’s fine, ma’am. Just fine. You see, Detective.” He glanced at Bishop. “I told you they’d have everything they needed. Still, if you don’t mind, ma’am, we’d like to have a few officers here when you do the show. You already have Detective Smith,” he said, giving Avery an unreadable look. “But I’d like to send Detectives Hobbs and Bishop on out for crowd control outside. And, if you don’t mind, I’d love to come back for the taping and watch, too.” Shuffling one foot, he glanced down and then back up at Cam. “I’m a little embarrassed to say this, but I’m a fan of the show.”

  “Oh, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Cam smiled up at him. “I can do you one better than that, Chief Ramsey. I’m conducting a séance here tomorrow night. Why don’t you join us? You and Detective Bishop both? You can’t get any closer to the action than that.”

  Ramsey’s eyes widened. “Join you? You mean, on camera?”

  “The cameras will be rolling, yes,” Cam nodded, “but they’ll mostly be on me. They may pan around a few times, but nothing too intrusive.” Seeing the Chief Deputy and Bishop exchange glances, Cam pressed on before either man—Bishop especially—had the chance to say no. “Well, what do you say? Do you want to be on the show? We’re hoping to ask a few other locals, like Mr. Jackson the real estate agent, to join us. Avery’s going to be there…right Avery?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Avery said, “sure. If that’s all right with you, Chief?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Cam broke in before he could respond. “You’re still on leave, right?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course, it’s fine with me. We’ll all be there.”

  It was subtle and only lasted for an instant, but Cam caught the alarmed look on Bishop’s face at the Chief Deputy’s words. Maybe there was something to Avery’s theory after all?

  “I know you said the camera will be mostly on you,” Ramsey said as he ran a hand over his salt and pepper hair, “but I…uh, we’ll be shown on TV, too, right?”

  Cam bit back a grin. Ramsey reminded her of the dozens of others she’d had on the show over the years. No matter what they would admit to publicly, most people craved the sort of attention that came with being on television.

  “Oh, for sure,” she answered. “You’ll definitely be on screen.” She cast her eyes to Bishop. “All of you will.”

  Shaye came bustling in just then with a script she wanted Cam to go over, and, as she skimmed through the pages, Cam was vaguely aware of the two men speaking softly to Avery before leaving with a wave in her direction. She interrupted Shaye after a moment and looked up at Avery standing in the hallway, who was examining the ghost box again.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Avery nodded. “They said they’d be here tomorrow about dusk.”

  “Good.” Something told her that Avery wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but now wasn’t the time to talk about it. “Shaye, this looks fine to me,” she handed the script back up to Shaye. “If you could run me a copy, then I can take it home with me tonight and go over it.”

  “Will do.” Shaye slipped the script onto her clipboard. “How was the walk through?”

  “Um…pretty good,” Cam said, trying to sound nonchalant. “The acoustics are good up there.”

  “Good,” Shaye nodded, obviously missing the muffled laugh that Avery gave at Cam’s statement. “I’ll go work on getting copies of the script made for you.”

  Once Shaye was well out of e
arshot, Avery came over to stand in front of Cam. “That was a slick little move you made there. Definitely solves the question of how we were going to get Bishop here. Oh, and acoustics,” she said with a grin. “That’s one way to describe it, I guess. I’m impressed.”

  Cam blew out a breath, wincing as she extended out her right leg. “Impressed enough to help me get up? I think I hurt something when we fell just now.”

  “What?” Concern flashing across her face, Avery knelt down beside her. “Why on earth didn’t you say something? Where are you hurt?” she asked, running a hand down Cam’s leg.

  “It’s my knee,” Cam said, keeping her voice low. “My ankle, too, I think. Help me walk into the parlor so Shaye won’t see me and freak out. I’m doing this show tomorrow if I have to do it on crutches.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Avery pushed open to door to Loralyn’s house with one foot and eased Cam inside, one arm wrapped firmly around the other woman’s waist.

  “I’m pretty sure I can make it from here,” Cam said as they half-walked, half-hobbled to the couch.

  Avery let go of Cam long enough to set aside a box of cookbooks from the center couch cushion to the floor beside the coffee table, and then returned to lower Cam down in its place. That done, she stepped back and glanced around the room, wrinkling her nose as the stale smell of mothballs and cardboard tickled at it. The living room looked unchanged from her visit the other day. Boxes sat stacked in various spots around the room, some open, some closed and taped with things like “Dishes – Donate” and “Knicknacks – Keep” written on their side.

  “Here,” she said, bending down to lift Cam’s right leg off the floor and onto the coffee table. “Keep this elevated while I go see if you’ve got anything in the kitchen in the way of an ice pack.”

  Cam made a small grimace at the movement and nodded. “Look in the top left corner of the freezer. I think I remember seeing something along those lines.”

  Avery nodded and scratched at her bandaged hand. The white gauze had turned dark with overuse, and the gash underneath was beginning to itch. She made a mental note to change out the bandaging when she got home. The last thing she needed was for the wound to become infected.

  “There’s also some bandaids and gauze up in the top cabinet by the sink,” Cam said as if she’d read Avery’s mind. “Bring those, too, and we’ll redo your hand.”

  “No, I can do it later.”

  “Avery,” Cam muttered, leaning back into the oversized cushions of the couch and closing her eyes. “I’m too tired to argue right now. Just do it.”

  Avery opened her mouth to protest, but the tone in Cam’s voice made her think better of it. She headed off into the kitchen, sidestepping the maze of boxes as she went. Once there, she stopped and surveyed the room. It was smaller than Mildred’s kitchen, but similar in its layout. From the looks of it, Cam had nearly finished packing the room. The cabinet doors hung open, revealing empty cupboards within, and the countertops were clear. Avery had only met Loralyn once or twice, but she’d heard about her since middle school, Loralyn being Mildred’s arch nemesis in various baking competitions over the years. Now, standing in the near-empty room that she knew had once been the hub of Loralyn Baker’s life, Avery felt a pinch of sadness. Would this be what she would be facing after Mildred was gone?

  “Avery, did you find it?” Cam’s voice sounded from the living room.

  “Um, yeah, hold on,” she called back, wiping at her eyes. Shaking off the feeling of—whatever the hell that was—she crossed to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door. She saw the ice pack right where Cam had said it would be, tucked in the corner of the freezer, just visible behind a stack of casserole dishes most likely left over from the repast. Having pulled out the ice pack, she quickly retrieved a yellowing box of bandaids, a roll of gauze, and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting in the cabinet with them.

  Juggling the collection of items as she rounded the corner from the kitchen, Avery saw Cam sitting quietly on the couch, rubbing at her knee with one hand. As she stepped closer, Cam looked up and greeted her with a smile.

  “I was beginning to get worried.”

  “Yeah, well…” Avery let her words hang in the air. She eased down on the couch beside Cam. Avery sat the cold pack and the other items on the coffee table and then wiped the moisture from her hand. “Let’s go ahead and get you out of those jeans.”

  “My, don’t you move fast,” Cam drawled with a smirky grin.

  “So we can get the ice pack on your knee,” Avery clarified. “You don’t want to get your pants wet now, do you?” She frowned as Cam’s eyebrows shot up and her grin intensified. Heat flew into Avery’s cheeks as what she’d said struck home. Okay, just stop talking.

  Cam gave a little laugh and began to unfasten her jeans. Avery turned her head, staring intently at the bookshelf that covered the wall to the right of the couch while Cam slid off her jeans. She’d counted the empty shelves twice before Cam said, “All done.”

  Avery looked back to see Cam’s jeans draped across her lap, her bare right leg propped back on the coffee table, this time with the ice pack precariously positioned on top of her knee. Avery leaned forward and lifted the ice pack. She tentatively felt of the purpling skin around Cam’s knee.

  “I don’t think anything is broken,” Avery said, replacing the ice pack, “just bruised.”

  “It’s still sore,” Cam confirmed, “but not as bad as it was back at the house.” She leaned forward to move the coffee table propping up her leg closer to the couch. “Now, let’s take care of your hand.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” Avery allowed her gaze to linger on Cam’s tanned skin a moment longer, then unwrapped the bandage covering her hand. “Have you decided what you’re going to do with the house?” she asked idly as she worked.

  Cam arched an eyebrow. It was obvious that the question took her by surprise.

  Okay, maybe not the best timing. Avery shifted on the couch, hoping she hadn’t offended Cam by speaking what was on her mind. It was a bad habit she’d picked up from Mildred.

  Her hand free of the bandage, Avery flexed her fingers, frowning as she saw the puckered skin of her palm, the gash marring it covered in a line of crooked black sutures.

  “Not really, to be honest,” Cam mirroring Avery’s frown when she saw the wound. “The original plan was to be in and out in about a week, two at most, but all this,” she waved a hand in the air, “has sorta waylaid that.” She retrieved the hydrogen peroxide from the table and poured a small amount on a clean piece of gauze before handing it to Avery. “I suppose once the house is cleared out, I’ll let Chuck Jackson list it. I’ve already been in touch with some local charities on the items I’m donating, the rest will have to go into storage for the time being.”

  “I suppose,” Avery said, gently dabbing the gash with the peroxide to clean it, wincing as the liquid stung at and bubbled around the black sutures, “that you’re anxious to get back to California. I’m sure you’ve got people waiting on you.”

  “People,” Cam answered, drawing out her words, “but not a specific person.”

  Avery tilted her head at Cam. “Is that so?”

  “Mmhmm. Here—” Cam reached out and took Avery’s injured hand into her own. “Let me help.” Avery held still as Cam placed Band-Aids across the sutured area of her palm, acutely aware of the scent of Cam’s—Perfume? Shampoo? Body spray? Whatever it was had a fresh, floral scent and tickled at Avery’s nose. Looking up, she saw that Cam was tracing her lips with her tongue as she worked, an action that Avery found hypnotic. A flash of the night before and Cam’s tequila-fueled advances ran through her mind, along with the memory of how those lips tasted.

  Now is not the time for all that, the little voice of reasoning said from somewhere in the back of her head. Reluctantly agreeing with it, Avery cleared her throat and looked away. “Anyway, hopefully tomorrow night will pan out and then you can get back on track with set
tling Loralyn’s estate and on back to your life.”

  “Yeah, that sounds nice,” she said, her tone altogether unconvincing. “There,” she said, tucking in the last piece of gauze around Avery’s hand, “see how that feels.”

  Avery turned her hand over to each side, inspecting the work. “Looks good,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “And it feels fine, thanks.” Cam nodded in response. Avery fidgeted on the couch beside her a moment longer, tapped her hands on the top of her thighs, and stood. “Well, I should be getting on.”

  Cam leaned forward on the couch, lowering her leg down from the coffee table. “There’s no rush.”

  “No, you need to get some rest before the show. We both do.” Avery stepped around the coffee table and began to move toward the front door. “I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon to pick you up.”

  “Avery, wait.”

  “Cam…”

  “At least stay for dinner?”

  Avery stopped just at the edge of the foyer. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted to stay for all the reasons that she should go. Avery turned around, but whatever she was going to say was lost by the sight of Cam standing right behind her.

  Avery reached out and pushed a lock of scarlet hair off of Cam’s forehead. “We both know that if I stay, it won’t be for dinner.”

  “Stay,” Cam said, her words a hesitant whisper.

  Biting down on her lip, Avery inhaled deeply. “Cam…”

  “I’m the one asking.”

  “What?”

  Cam placed a hand on Avery’s arm and drew close. “I’m the one asking you to stay. Not last night’s tequila. Not a ghost. Me. I want you to stay.” She drew closer still. “I want you.”

  Avery brushed her knuckles gently across Cam’s cheek as she stared intently into her eyes, seeing the same hunger she felt reflected there. With a tender touch, she pushed back Cam’s hair and dipped her head to nuzzle the delicate skin just below her ear. Cam’s sharp intake of breath and the simultaneous pressing of their bodies together stirred something within Avery, and she felt flush with desire. She wanted to hold Cam, touch her body, feel skin sliding against skin.