from her face.
Her phone started ringing again. Jules stared at the garbage currently surrounding her.
Whatever! I need a shower anyway.
She thrust her hand into the muck and dug for the ringing phone. Her fingers closed around it and she yanked it free. Brushing off as much of the muck as possible, she pressed the Send button. “Hello?”
“Help . . . me.” The whispered words crackled weakly through the cell. The phone went dead.
It rang again. The caller ID read BLOCKED.
Jules answered it again, only to hear the ghostly voice whisper, “Help me! Please!”
Fear and irritation had her reacting before Jules could think better of it. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m getting phone calls from the dead now?”
“Help.”
“Help yourself. You seem to be able to do a lot. Stop calling me!” Jules clicked the phone off.
She glanced up as a white light burned bright then faded to a hazy gray aura surrounding a pretty young woman with a jet-black bob. Sitting atop the Dumpster with her knees tucked beneath her, she leaned on her hands near the edge of the lid, just staring down. Dressed in jeans and a light blue T-shirt, the ghost looked vaguely familiar.
“Do I know you?”
A tormented look of rage twisted the girl’s features and her gray aura swirled again, this time to thunderous dark crimson. She dropped her head back and opened her mouth in a voiceless scream. Instead, the razor-sharp sound of a hundred fingernails dragged down chalkboards ripped across the space, echoing against the metal walls of the Dumpster. Jules dropped her phone and clapped her hands to her ears, desperate to drown out the sound.
She barely registered that the ghost had finally tapped into the ability to manifest itself when the lid slammed closed.
CHAPTER 4
S ETH PULLED HIS aging red Honda Civic into the parking lot outside McGivern’s Jewelers. Not bothering to lock the car, he headed toward his partner. Jones, with his indeterminate heritage—a thoroughly American mix of cultures from his pale blue eyes to his light mocha complexion to his sand-colored hair—was directing a group of patrolmen.
“Why isn’t the tape up yet?” Jones asked a freckle-faced pretty boy who looked like he’d be more at home at a frat party than working the beat this close to the Norfolk line. “We need to have this entire area cordoned off, Officer Harmon.”
“We’ve already put it up in the alley.” A surprisingly deep voice came out of Harmon’s choir-boy-looking mouth. “And we’re about to do the front now, Detective.”
Harmon turned and barked out orders. Three other patrolmen appeared, two flanking the front door and one from around back. Perhaps Harmon wasn’t as young as he looked. Or maybe Seth was too damned old.
“Sirs, this is weird.” Harmon turned to include both Seth and Jones in the conversation. “It’s still early yet, but the owners say so far, it doesn’t appear anything’s been stolen. It’s like vandals came in and smashed up the place, but they got in the same way the Diamond Gang did at the other burglaries.”
“Through a dismantled security system?” Seth shared a confused glance with Jones.
Harmon nodded then his eyes widened. He pointed at something behind Seth and Jones.
Seth followed the younger man’s line of vision and turned around. He watched a woman climb into one of the Dumpsters and the officer beside her doing little to stop her.
“Stop!” Jones and Seth hollered in unison as they broke into a run.
From behind them, Harmon yelled into his radio, “Gareth! Stop her. This is a crime scene.”
“Harmon, stay and keep this area secure,” Jones called out over his shoulder.
The woman turned her head just enough to reveal her profile before she toppled headfirst into the garbage bin. Jules! Recognition hit Seth like a punch to his solar plexus.
He nearly tripped over Jones, who’d jerked to a stop in front of him. The pause had been momentary, as if he’d received
Her phone started ringing again. Jules stared at the garbage currently surrounding her.
Whatever! I need a shower anyway.
She thrust her hand into the muck and dug for the ringing phone. Her fingers closed around it and she yanked it free. Brushing off as much of the muck as possible, she pressed the Send button. “Hello?”
“Help . . . me.” The whispered words crackled weakly through the cell. The phone went dead.
It rang again. The caller ID read BLOCKED.
Jules answered it again, only to hear the ghostly voice whisper, “Help me! Please!”
Fear and irritation had her reacting before Jules could think better of it. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m getting phone calls from the dead now?”
“Help.”
“Help yourself. You seem to be able to do a lot. Stop calling me!” Jules clicked the phone off.
She glanced up as a white light burned bright then faded to a hazy gray aura surrounding a pretty young woman with a jet-black bob. Sitting atop the Dumpster with her knees tucked beneath her, she leaned on her hands near the edge of the lid, just staring down. Dressed in jeans and a light blue T-shirt, the ghost looked vaguely familiar.
“Do I know you?”
A tormented look of rage twisted the girl’s features and her gray aura swirled again, this time to thunderous dark crimson. She dropped her head back and opened her mouth in a voiceless scream. Instead, the razor-sharp sound of a hundred fingernails dragged down chalkboards ripped across the space, echoing against the metal walls of the Dumpster. Jules dropped her phone and clapped her hands to her ears, desperate to drown out the sound.
She barely registered that the ghost had finally tapped into the ability to manifest itself when the lid slammed closed.
CHAPTER 4
S ETH PULLED HIS aging red Honda Civic into the parking lot outside McGivern’s Jewelers. Not bothering to lock the car, he headed toward his partner. Jones, with his indeterminate heritage—a thoroughly American mix of cultures from his pale blue eyes to his light mocha complexion to his sand-colored hair—was directing a group of patrolmen.
“Why isn’t the tape up yet?” Jones asked a freckle-faced pretty boy who looked like he’d be more at home at a frat party than working the beat this close to the Norfolk line. “We need to have this entire area cordoned off, Officer Harmon.”
“We’ve already put it up in the alley.” A surprisingly deep voice came out of Harmon’s choir-boy-looking mouth. “And we’re about to do the front now, Detective.”
Harmon turned and barked out orders. Three other patrolmen appeared, two flanking the front door and one from around back. Perhaps Harmon wasn’t as young as he looked. Or maybe Seth was too damned old.
“Sirs, this is weird.” Harmon turned to include both Seth and Jones in the conversation. “It’s still early yet, but the owners say so far, it doesn’t appear anything’s been stolen. It’s like vandals came in and smashed up the place, but they got in the same way the Diamond Gang did at the other burglaries.”
“Through a dismantled security system?” Seth shared a confused glance with Jones.
Harmon nodded then his eyes widened. He pointed at something behind Seth and Jones.
Seth followed the younger man’s line of vision and turned around. He watched a woman climb into one of the Dumpsters and the officer beside her doing little to stop her.
“Stop!” Jones and Seth hollered in unison as they broke into a run.
From behind them, Harmon yelled into his radio, “Gareth! Stop her. This is a crime scene.”
“Harmon, stay and keep this area secure,” Jones called out over his shoulder.
The woman turned her head just enough to reveal her profile before she toppled headfirst into the garbage bin. Jules! Recognition hit Seth like a punch to his solar plexus.
He nearly tripped over Jones, who’d jerked to a stop in front of him. The pause had been momentary, as if he’d received
Similar Books
