Krewe of Hunters 8 The Uninvited by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

of the officers had driven her home.
    She wished she could’ve slept the entire day, and then thought
she should just be grateful she hadn’t had horrible dreams, considering how
Julian had looked....
    A shower seemed in order, although she’d taken one the night
before. A psychiatrist would probably tell her she was trying to wash away what
she’d seen but she didn’t care. It might make her feel more human. Or at least
more awake.
    While the water streamed over her, she thought about Julian and
let her tears flow. She thought about the many times they’d been ready to smack
him for his lack of responsibility or for leaving one of them in the lurch. It
didn’t matter. He’d still been a friend. Worse, it was such a ridiculous way to die.
    When she’d first found him, after the initial horror and
disbelief, she wondered if he’d sat there to play a prank on her, maybe planning
to apologize for disappearing. Maybe he’d tell her he’d gotten the gig of a
lifetime because he’d taken off that afternoon.
    It had never occurred to her that anyone had killed him. His death had looked like a tragic, stupid
accident. And that was terrible enough, but…
    Why would anyone kill Julian Mitchell, and why would that
person go up to the attic and trash everything there?
    And how had it happened with her and Jason in the house, not to
mention the thirty or so people in their tour groups?
    She’d barely dressed and her hair was still dripping when her
doorbell rang. She cringed, not wanting to see anyone, but curiosity got the
better of her and she walked to the door to look through the peephole.
    It was the Texas ghost buster.
    She watched him as she ignored the buzzer. He rang again.
    He didn’t go away.
    She considered it bizarre that the police had called in the
FBI—and that they’d called in this unit. Allison had
to admit she didn’t know that much about the FBI or the “Krewe of Hunters,” but
she’d checked the internet when she first met Adam Harrison and read that they
were a special unit sent in when circumstances were unusual. Unusual meant that something paranormal might be going on,
or seemed to be going on, and it appalled Allison that a historic property like
the Tarleton-Dandridge House could be turned into a supernatural oddity. Of
course, the ghost tours in the city loved the house and the tales that went with
it, but those tours were for fun.And that kind of
fun was great as long as it didn’t detract from the real wonders of
Philadelphia.
    All the information she could find about Adam—or his
Krewes—seemed to have plenty of read-between-the-lines suggestions that there
was something out of the ordinary about them. From what she could gather, the
Kreweswere well acquainted with the paranormal
and made use of strange communications in solving crimes. No way could she buy
into that!
    Peering out at Tyler Montague seemed to make it all the more
ludicrous. He looked as if he should be in a barbarian movie; he was tall as a
house and built with pure, lean muscle. How could such a man believe in
ghosts?
    He had waited a respectable amount of time. He rang the bell
again.
    With a sigh, Allison threw the door open. “What?” she
demanded.
    “I need your help.”
    She turned and walked back through her house toward the counter
that divided the kitchen from the living area. “With what? Do you need a cup of
coffee? That I have. Do you want to know about the Tarleton ghosts? Can’t help
you there. I’ve never seen them. Oh, and I suppose I should mention this—I don’t
believe they exist. We have a shot at life, then we die. Period. I believe in
God as an entity seen by different people in different ways, but I don’t think
He has an open-door policy in heaven, saying, Hey, come and go as you please.
But coffee? I’ve got that.”
    “I could use a cup,” he said mildly, following her inside and
closing the door. He walked to the counter as she placed another pod in her
coffeemaker. She turned to