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

look at him, hoping—to her surprise—that her house
was clean and neat. She had the feeling that, ghost hunter or no, he was
observant and perhaps judging her character through her living space.
    “Things might be a bit messy,” she said, sweeping out an arm
that indicated the sections of newspaper strewn on the table and her shoes and
cape thrown on a chair. “Sorry. Long night.”
    “Looks pretty good to me,” he commented.
    “What do you like in your coffee? Oh, and what are you doing
here?”
    “I told you. I need your help.”
    “That doesn’t answer my question about the coffee. What do you
want in it?”
    “Just black, thanks.”
    “Of course. A fed from Texas. Black coffee.” She handed him the
cup, asking, “What do you need from me?”
    “Information about the people you work with.”
    “Everyone fills out an extensive form in order to work at the
house, and then has to pass an oral exam. Guides have to know what they’re
doing. Believe it or not, the place gets a lot of applications. When the board
hires, they want people who not only have a good grasp of history, but really
love it. So they ask personal questions, as well.”
    “I’m aware of all that. What I want to hear is more about what
you’ve seen. What you, personally, have observed.”
    She paused, eyes narrowing. “You think one of my coworkers had
something to do with this?”
    “I don’t think Julian Mitchell went crazy, trashed his
workplace, then sat down and killed himself on a bayonet—no.”
    Allison shook her head. “I’ve been through it and through it,
with you and with the cops. I don’t know what else I could possibly tell
you.”
    “Start with your day,” he told her. “Tell me about it
again.”
    She sighed. “It was pretty much like any other day,” she
said.
    He took a sip of his coffee, smiling. “I was looking for a
little more detail than that. Were any of the tours unusual? Did anything stand
out to you?”
    “Yes, I found the body of a friend in the study,” she said
curtly.
    Before he could respond, his cell phone rang. He excused
himself and answered it, frowning as he listened.
    Allison felt a chill; she knew it had something to do with
whatever was being said.
    A moment later he hung up. “You took a family with two boys,
Todd and Jimmy, on your last tour.”
    She nodded. “Yes, why?”
    “Their father’s in the hospital. He woke up in the middle of
the night, screamed and fell into a coma. One of the kids was so hysterical when
they reached the hospital that someone on staff called the police.”
    “ What? Why? That’s terrible,
but—”
    “The boy, Todd, wants to talk to you. He said that you’d
understand. According to Todd, a ghost did follow them home.”

3
    T he hospital was cold. Outside, the
late-summer heat was beginning to wane and the day was still beautiful, but
inside the hospital, Allison shivered against the chill that seeped into her
bones.
    She didn’t want to be there; she wanted to run away. But Todd
wanted to see her because for some reason he believed she could help.
    And she wanted to help.
    The two boys were seated in an otherwise empty waiting area.
Todd’s mother was in with his father, and an attractive woman of about forty was
sitting with the boys. Seeing Allison, Todd leaped to his feet and came running
over to her. She was startled when he threw his arms around her but she
comforted the boy, embracing him and stroking his hair.
    “He followed us home! He followed us home. That awful man
followed us home. The beast—Beast Bradley. He killed your friend and he made my
father sick!” Todd said, his words muffled.
    Allison looked helplessly at the woman in the room and then at
Tyler Montague.
    “Todd,” she said gently. “Ghosts can’t do that. Really. They’re
just…inventions, something we make up in our own minds. Your father—” She
paused, praying this wasn’t a lie. “Your father’s going to be fine. You’re in an
exceptionally good