once, because when I’m around my sister, I can also feel the whispers of other lost souls.”
A shiver snaked up her spine. This just kept getting stranger. Not only did a ghost too good-looking to be real show up, but now he was spouting stuff about serial killers? She really, really needed him to go away.
Crossing her arms, she studied him. His massive shoulders filled out army camouflage. Her stomach swooped. The combat uniform had been exactly what David was wearing when he was killed. Coincidence? She thought not.
Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. “I have to ask. Why me? I don’t even know you. Did someone else, some other ghost, send you to me?”
“No.” His quick answer crushed all her hopes. “Your energy drew me to you. I need someone with your power. Not only that, but you live in the same town as I used to. My sister still lives here.” He frowned. “Don’t you ever wonder why you can hear the voices of the dead?”
“Not really. Mostly I only hear whispers.”
“You can hear me. And the energy you send out directs the spirits to you.”
Pain stabbed her. “Funny thing, that. You’re right. I do attract a lot of departed spirits. All of them want something from me. But the one voice I most want to hear has never come to me.”
“Your husband, of course...” Gaze intense, he frowned. “Maybe I can help with that.”
“I received word David was killed in Afghanistan eighteen months ago. I just knew he’d come to me, at least to say goodbye. But he never did.”
His frown deepened. “I cannot appear physically to my sister, even though she’s in danger.”
“That’s nonsense.” The words burst from her, practically vibrating with hurt. “I hear all the time of people seeing the shade of someone close to them. I don’t understand why...” Tears pricking at the backs of her eyes, she couldn’t finish the sentence.
He dipped his chin, as if he understood. “All I can say is I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Though for once, she’d been able to say David’s name without her voice cracking. “It’s been really tough. David and I were mates. That’s why I just don’t understand.”
“Mates. Interesting. During my time on earth, I never had the privilege of meeting my mate.”
“Not everyone does. I got lucky. And I don’t think it’s too much to ask that he contact me. Or, if there’s a rule to prevent that, he could reach out to someone else and send a message to me.” It dawned on her that was what all the other spirits she’d sent away had been trying to do and for all she knew, David might have had the same luck if he’d made the attempt.
“Sometimes, when a soul has suffered a traumatic injury, he is taken away and given positive, healing energy,” the handsome ghost continued. “Time passes differently there. Your David may not even be aware eighteen months has passed since his death. For him, it may feel merely like minutes.”
His words felt like a soothing salve poured on a festering wound. They helped, even if she didn’t really understand the logic behind what he’d said. The connection between mates should have transcended both space and time.
This ghost simply didn’t understand. She felt bad for him; she really did. And she felt worse for his poor sister. Being held prisoner in a dark place sounded like her worst nightmare come to life. Add in serial killer, and it went way beyond the realm of terrifying. So much so that she knew she didn’t want to have anything to do with it.
Now to convince him of that. She swallowed hard, lifted her chin and boldly met his gaze.
“Your eyes are the color of burnished copper,” he said.
Nonplussed, she completely lost her train of thought. “Uh. Thanks. I guess.”
The quick flash of a devastating smile further derailed her. “You’re welcome. And I should thank you, for agreeing to help.”
That snapped her out of whatever twilight land she’d gone to. “That’s just it. I haven’t agreed to anything. Look, I understand that I can hear you. But I’m just one person, a widow who, quite frankly, isn’t well regarded in this town. Serial killers scare the heck out of me too. So what do you think I can do to find your sister?”
“More than I can,” he shot back, his smile vanishing. “You have a physical presence. You can talk to people and be heard. You can ignite a fire under law enforcement. And you are able to research and hunt down the clues that occasionally flash into my consciousness. Once you and I figure out who this man is, we can have him arrested.”
Still, she considered. Lately, she’d made a career out of avoiding just about everyone in town. For all she knew, they’d laugh at her if she started asking questions about a missing girl.
“How did you die?” she asked, feeling as if she needed to know.
“In Afghanistan,” he said, his voice curt. Clearly, he didn’t like discussing his death. “Like your husband and a lot of others. For me, it was a suicide bomber at a roadside checkpoint.”
A chill snaked over her. This ghost and David had both lost their lives in a similar fashion. It couldn’t be a coincidence, even if she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“I’ll find your husband,” he offered. “And try to bring him to you. If I can’t, I’ll bring back to you exactly what he’d like you to know. But time is of the essence. The longer Dena—my sister—is in that place, the weaker she becomes.”
Again the image. A poor woman, curled up on the cold concrete floor, hoping to ward off blows—or worse. That could be any woman, even Anabel. She had to try to save her. Just like that, she decided.
“If I help you find your sister,” she said, pretending she still didn’t know, “you say you’ll make sure David comes to me.”
“Yes.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “But not just find. Save my sister. And not if, but when.”
“Fine.” She cleared her throat. “I promise you, when I commit to something, I go all out. I will devote every spare second I have—when I’m not working, that is.” These days, unlike the job she’d had as an executive secretary when she was married to David, she worked as a cook in the back of the diner, which suited her perfectly. It was easier spending her time interacting with food rather than people.
He continued watching her, his hazel eyes both intelligent and insolent. “I’ll need your word.”
Of course he did. She decided not to tell him that her word wasn’t worth anything around this town. “Then I give you my word. I will do whatever I’m permitted to do.”
Gliding closer, in that disconcerting way of all ghosts, he held out his hand. It looked remarkably solid. Even though she knew it wasn’t. For a second, she pictured how such sensual fingers would feel on her skin.
Seriously. She gave herself a mental shake. What on earth had gotten into her?
“Tyler Rogers,” he said, the velvet murmur of his voice filling her with longing.
Damn.
