Read Online A Ghost of a Chance by Evelyn Klebert - Free Book Online
Authors: Evelyn Klebert
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a second, and then began to relax. The feeling flooding over her was familiar, but still cold, so cold.
Jack stood on the small screen porch on the far side of the white, wooden farmhouse.
He was puzzled. There was something out here. There must be. It was only moments before that he’d felt the awareness drawing him in this direction. He had left Hallie curled up in the recliner in the den as he and Jack Jr. went off to investigate.
He continued to search around in confusion. There was no one here, but he was sure; it had been so strong.
Turning slowly, he looked suspiciously back into the house. A quick dread spread over him. How stupid of him! It wanted him out. It had made sure that he was not around to interfere.
He moved like lightening back through the kitchen into the den but stopped abruptly on the threshold of the room. Everything looked undisturbed, as he had left it. Hallie remained as she’d been, still quietly asleep in the chair. Somewhat reassured, he moved to be next to her, but slammed smack and painfully into something tangible.
Whatever it was blocked his way. There was nothing visible to the eye, but he would have sworn that he’d collided with a massive sheet of ice. He could still see Hallie just across the room, but was barred from getting anywhere near her. Her head was moving restlessly in sleep. It was evident she was troubled. He felt panicked and frustrated as hell. There had to be a way to reach her.
Again, he tried with all his might, but crashed hard against the psychic wall. He could see her lips moving; she was dreaming, another dream. And then something occurred to him.
He moved to the fireplace on his side of the room, sitting down on the edge of its black stone ledge. “Not so easy friend,” he whispered as much to himself as to anyone else that was listening.
He closed his eyes and willed himself to where Hallie was.
Nobody, but nobody was taking her.
It took a few minutes for his eyes to focus. The air was hazy here. He waited a moment, but it didn’t clear; everything remained hazy. He breathed in deeply. Oh lord, he looked down between his fingers. It was a cigarette. Bless Hallie’s dreams.
He put the cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. It felt as though the smoke scorched his throat. But oh, it was good – part of a life almost forgotten.
“ You know, you really shouldn’t do that. Those things will kill you, eventually.”
For the first time he noticed the woman only a few feet away, leaning against the bar and watching him with hard brown eyes. Her lips were painted dark red and her eyelashes dipped a little too heavily in mascara. And as he casually scanned downward, it became obvious that her black dress was fitted a tad too tight, but it didn’t detract from the tasty vision that was Monica Quimby. Her bleached hair was a startling contrast against the sequined black dress.
She reached up to place the long, thin, white cigarette that she held near her brightly polished fingernails between the lips. The lips that he was sure she pouted deliberately to entice him. Expertly she inhaled, seconds later expelling delicate trails of smoke and leaning in closer with a wicked grin. “It’ll kill you, but like you should care.”
She smiled seductively. “We’ve been waiting for you Jack. Is it okay if I call you Jack?”
He reached out for a short glass on the bar filled with an amber-colored liquid. “This isn’t poison, is it?” He took a swig, just as he suspected – scotch his drink of choice or rather it had been.
Monica put one hand on her hip deliberately inching closer to him, so that she could provocatively whisper huskily, or so he assumed. “Now why would I want to kill my date for the evening?”
His eyebrow rose, or so he assumed it did because he couldn’t see it just now. “Your date?”
“ That’s right lover, and I’ll show you a good time later if you play your cards right.”
He breathed in. She smelled of
Jack stood on the small screen porch on the far side of the white, wooden farmhouse.
He was puzzled. There was something out here. There must be. It was only moments before that he’d felt the awareness drawing him in this direction. He had left Hallie curled up in the recliner in the den as he and Jack Jr. went off to investigate.
He continued to search around in confusion. There was no one here, but he was sure; it had been so strong.
Turning slowly, he looked suspiciously back into the house. A quick dread spread over him. How stupid of him! It wanted him out. It had made sure that he was not around to interfere.
He moved like lightening back through the kitchen into the den but stopped abruptly on the threshold of the room. Everything looked undisturbed, as he had left it. Hallie remained as she’d been, still quietly asleep in the chair. Somewhat reassured, he moved to be next to her, but slammed smack and painfully into something tangible.
Whatever it was blocked his way. There was nothing visible to the eye, but he would have sworn that he’d collided with a massive sheet of ice. He could still see Hallie just across the room, but was barred from getting anywhere near her. Her head was moving restlessly in sleep. It was evident she was troubled. He felt panicked and frustrated as hell. There had to be a way to reach her.
Again, he tried with all his might, but crashed hard against the psychic wall. He could see her lips moving; she was dreaming, another dream. And then something occurred to him.
He moved to the fireplace on his side of the room, sitting down on the edge of its black stone ledge. “Not so easy friend,” he whispered as much to himself as to anyone else that was listening.
He closed his eyes and willed himself to where Hallie was.
Nobody, but nobody was taking her.
It took a few minutes for his eyes to focus. The air was hazy here. He waited a moment, but it didn’t clear; everything remained hazy. He breathed in deeply. Oh lord, he looked down between his fingers. It was a cigarette. Bless Hallie’s dreams.
He put the cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. It felt as though the smoke scorched his throat. But oh, it was good – part of a life almost forgotten.
“ You know, you really shouldn’t do that. Those things will kill you, eventually.”
For the first time he noticed the woman only a few feet away, leaning against the bar and watching him with hard brown eyes. Her lips were painted dark red and her eyelashes dipped a little too heavily in mascara. And as he casually scanned downward, it became obvious that her black dress was fitted a tad too tight, but it didn’t detract from the tasty vision that was Monica Quimby. Her bleached hair was a startling contrast against the sequined black dress.
She reached up to place the long, thin, white cigarette that she held near her brightly polished fingernails between the lips. The lips that he was sure she pouted deliberately to entice him. Expertly she inhaled, seconds later expelling delicate trails of smoke and leaning in closer with a wicked grin. “It’ll kill you, but like you should care.”
She smiled seductively. “We’ve been waiting for you Jack. Is it okay if I call you Jack?”
He reached out for a short glass on the bar filled with an amber-colored liquid. “This isn’t poison, is it?” He took a swig, just as he suspected – scotch his drink of choice or rather it had been.
Monica put one hand on her hip deliberately inching closer to him, so that she could provocatively whisper huskily, or so he assumed. “Now why would I want to kill my date for the evening?”
His eyebrow rose, or so he assumed it did because he couldn’t see it just now. “Your date?”
“ That’s right lover, and I’ll show you a good time later if you play your cards right.”
He breathed in. She smelled of
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