Shrouded in Darkness (Shrouded Series) by H. D. Thomson Read Free Book Online Page B

maybe Johnny?
    So many questions. And she didn’t have an answer to any of them.
    Grabbing the bottle and her glass, she sat down by the kitchen table and threw her feet up on an adjacent chair. After refilling her glass and recapping the bottle, she slouched further in her seat.
    What did she need to figure out? She rubbed her brow. Pain throbbed between her eyes and against her temples. She didn’t want to figure it out. Not now. Not when all this thinking was killing her head.
    The doorbell sounded. She staggered from her chair. Shaking her head to clear it, she almost ran into the dark green plastic bag filled with garbage she’d forgotten about in her hurry to get to the door. This time, she glanced through the side window and saw Joyce with her brother, Carl.
    “Shit.”
    Margot didn’t want company, especially Joyce’s brother. Carl didn’t miss an opportunity to hit on her. The only thing that had kept her from slapping him silly was her friendship with Joyce. But, oh, the temptation had been there to do some serious damage to that ego of his, especially since he’d always been a self-righteous chauvinist. Being one of only three deputy’s in the town and surrounding area seemed to magnify his holier than thou attitude.
    She swept her fingers through her hair to get the tangles out and took a couple of deep breaths, having the stupid hope that the added oxygen might clear her muddled head. It didn’t work. She thought about not answering, but with her Cherokee parked outside, Joyce wasn’t liable to leave without at least seeing Margot’s face.
    When she opened the door, Joyce took one look at her and rushed inside. Carl followed more sedately and closed the door.
    “What happened?” Joyce demanded, frowning in great concern. “You look like hell.”
    “Malcolm was here and—”
    “Shit.” Carl’s skin turned pallid. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
    Carl hefted his pants up and gave her a tough man look. The image of a strong deputy, with pressed uniform and shiny gun, riding into town was ruined by what looked like a grease stain on his potbelly, which Margot considered the biggest muscle on his body. From as far back as she could remember, he’d been more bulk than brawn.
    “Of course he did,” Joyce answered for her. “Why of all—”
    “No, Joyce,” Margot forestalled her. “He didn’t get a chance to touch me. Something pulled him off me.”
    “What do you mean ‘something pulled him off’ you?” Joyce asked.
    “Just that.” God, the drink was loosening her tongue. She glanced at Carl, then took Joyce’s elbow and led them further down the hall and out of his earshot. Carl loved gossip and ranked up there with the town’s worst. Whoever said women loved to talk obviously hadn’t been around a bunch of men for any length of time.
    After letting go of her friend’s arm, Margot massaged the bridge of her nose—anything to try to clear her head. “Malcolm had me up against the wall when something—don’t ask me what—grabbed him and flung him into the air. He never saw the ground coming. I don’t know what happened. It was almost like a ghost.”
    “You’ve got to be joking. A ghost?” The disbelief on Joyce’s face was unmistakable.
    “Yes, a ghost,” Margot retorted in a hushed voice.
    Joyce sniffed, and a look of reproof flashed in her eyes. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? Now that I think of it, I can smell it on your breath.”
    “I had a glass or two after it happened,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t have anything to do with what just happened. Malcolm was there. He’d be the first to admit—”
    “What’s wrong?” Carl walked over to them.
    Margot sent Joyce a fierce look and answered, “Nothing.”
    “I thought I heard you mention ghosts.”
    Margot bit back a snappy retort. She didn’t need to antagonize the local law enforcement.
    “Margot thinks a ghost attacked Malcolm,” Joyce said.
    She winced. It sounded far worse coming