Harrison Investigations 2 Ghost Walk by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

Orleans. The French Quarter. Where he'd been born.
    He knew the area far too well.
    New Orleans. And beyond the Vieux Carré, the bayous. Endless canals. Alligators, shrimp and shrimpers, crawfish, Cajun food…
    There were bodies there, too. And strange events that went beyond the accepted norm…
    It was what he did, he reminded himself.
    But not always by choice.
    New Orleans.
    Damn, but he hated to go home.
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Chapter 4

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    "Help me! Nikki, wake up and help me!"
    Nikki woke groggily from a deep sleep. She forced her eyes open.
    "Nikki, please, for the love of God… there's nothing. I have nothing. Tell them—you've got to tell them!"
    She blinked. There was a soft glow of green light emanating from her clock, and a thin gleam coming from the bathroom, from the night-light she kept on. She had failed to fully close the draperies across the sliding doors in her bedroom. Though she faced the small garden area at the rear of the house, enough light made it into the back that a gentle glow came in through the window. Though the light seemed pale and misty, she could see the basic shapes of the furniture in her room.
    And the woman at the foot of the bed.
    Andrea was standing there, clad in a long T-shirt advertising the New Orleans Saints. Her long dark hair was tousled, as if she'd just gotten out of bed.
    "Andy, what are you doing here? What are you talking about?" she asked, glancing over at her bedside clock. Almost 4:00 a.m. They had only parted at two, and after all those Hurricanes, Nikki felt as if her mind was moving on a very slow track. In fact, her head was pounding. She had to be dreaming, but it was unfair for her head to hurt so badly in a dream.
    "Go away, Andy. You're the one who kept ordering the drinks," she grumbled miserably.
    "The bum in the coffee shop, he's dead, Nikki."
    Nikki shook her head, which made it hurt even more. "Andy, we didn't know the guy. We couldn't know if he's dead." She stopped to think for a minute, but between the liquor and exhaustion, she knew she wasn't doing too well.
    "How did you get in here, anyway? If you guys are trying to scare me… Did Julian put you up to this? Hell, I don't really care right now. Go away. And lock the door behind you when you go."
    "Nikki! Please… help!"
    "I understand a joke, Andy, but I really feel like hell. So… ha, ha, go away."
    "Nikki, for the love of God," Andy implored. "Wake up… I think… I think it's you they're after."
    "Andy, go away. Go home. What the hell are you doing out dressed like that, anyway? Look—I'm closing my eyes. When I open them, you're going to be gone. And if those other idiots are with you, tell them to get out, too."
    "Okay, I'm going to open my eyes, Andy, and you'd best be gone!"
    She opened her eyes. To her amazement, Andy was gone.
    "Make sure my front door is locked when you go!" she called.
    She sighed. She needed to get up and make sure that the door had been locked. She should close the drapes—and avoid the sun that was going to tear into her eyes in the morning. But none of them had to work tomorrow morning. Not until night… the eight o'clock tour. Ample time to recover, and so, to get in all the healing sleep she needed. She should get up…
    She couldn't quite do it. Couldn't quite make herself get up.
    She closed her eyes, and went back to sleep.
    When Nikki woke in the morning, she didn't even remember at first that she'd opened her eyes to see Andrea in her room. Her head was still thudding. She managed to crawl out of bed and into the bathroom, and down several aspirins. In the kitchen, she decided toast would be a good thing. Coffee first, because she couldn't bear life without it, then toast and orange juice.
    Walking back into her bedroom, she unlatched her glass doors and walked out on the little balcony that looked over the small courtyard in the back of the house where she lived. The antebellum grande dame had been restored