Читать книгу Spirited Away - Angela Campbell - Страница 9

Spider waited for the Internet to connect and realized she’d been tapping her foot for – who knew how long?

“It hasn’t taken this long before. What the frack?”

Costello’s response was a cross between a whine and a grumble. The dog always insisted on lying as close to her feet as possible. Sooner or later, she was gonna step on him and then hello animal emergency room visit.

“And it’ll be your fault, you silly dog.” She nudged him with the toe of her Converse hi-tops as she rebooted the machine.

The plush sofa cushions tried to coax her into taking a nap, but her nerves were too on edge to cooperate. Her stomach churned with an urgent desire to find out more about Noah West. Even though her smart phone didn’t have the juice she needed to do a thorough Internet search, she tried it anyway while she waited for her laptop to restart.

She scrolled through the recommended websites a simple search returned, frowning. “This is useless.”

Tossing her phone aside, she hopped to her feet, sidestepped the dog, and began pacing. Noah could be everything he claimed to be, but serious doubt nibbled at that idea. Few people were all they claimed, and she still had the emotional scars to prove it.

Don’t think about the a-hole. He’s ancient history now.

Too late. Her mind reeled back to her ex and how horribly their relationship had ended.

After her mother had died when Spider was in the tenth grade, she’d relied upon her best friend Paul to be her rock, and he had been – that is, until he’d changed from her kind and supportive boyfriend into a cruel and domineering fiancé. She became so meek and shy, letting him dictate her every decision. He’d all but forced her to drop out of college because he wanted to take care of her. No job, he’d said, because she would be too busy being his wife and mother to the three kids he wanted. A proper little lady who wore dresses and never spoke out of turn. Practically a cardboard cutout.

One day she’d taken a look at the hot-pink-haired leather-clad female avatar she’d created in a game – which, let’s be honest, had been her escape to keep her sanity intact, not to mention her one act of rebellion, since video games were not at all lady-like – and wondered why she couldn’t become more like her avatar in real life. Strong. Independent. Unique. Maybe even a little bit snarky. The desire to become those things had grown and swelled until, one day, she impulsively dyed her hair purple and ditched her closet full of dresses for a wardrobe heavy on jeans, combat boots, and skin-tight t-shirts.

And she ditched Paul, too.

Both he and her father had accused her of having an early quarter-life crisis, but she hadn’t cared. She’d felt more herself than she had in her entire life.

She enrolled in computer programming classes, because she’d always had a knack for computers. Afterwards, she got the job at Zach’s agency. And she was almost two years into her five-year plan to save money, get her own house and finally enjoy her fought-for independence.

Patience was all she needed, and not to get mixed up with any serial killer types in the meantime. Because dying before she could get her own place would really, really suck.

Before she could change her mind, she snatched up her phone and punched in the non-emergency number for the Atlanta Police Department. When an officer she didn’t recognize answered, she said, “I’m trying to reach Officer Jack Lanier. He’s been working in Zone 2.”

“He’s on patrol and unavailable at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?”

“Sure. This is Spider, er, I mean Emma. Emma Fisher and—”

“The chief’s daughter?”

Her shoulders sank on a sigh. “Yeah.”

“No kidding. What’cha been up to, kiddo? Haven’t seen you around here in a long time.”

Yeah, well, for one, I’m not a kiddo anymore. “You know. I’m working now.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Pruitt. I come over to your house every now and then for games.”

“Oh, right. Pruitt.” She had no idea which officer was Pruitt. The parade of new and old uniforms that came through her house was never ending. “How have you been?”

“Good. Hold on. I’ll patch you through to Lanier’s cell phone. Take care, you hear?”

“Uh. Okay. Thanks.” She blew out a breath, hoping word wouldn’t get back to her father that she’d called into the station. Maybe this hadn’t been the smartest idea she’d had.

“Lanier,” a gruff voice growled.

“Hey, Jack, it’s Emma Fisher.”

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

Enough with the kiddo stuff. Geez. “I have a question. Remember the guy who was here?”

“Yeah, yeah. The neighbour. West. Looked like he’d been on a bender. Why? He been bothering you?”

“No.” Sweet mercy, how did she say this without sounding like a paranoid recluse who spied on her neighbours? She swallowed. “Did you run a check on him or anything?”

“Yeah, standard check. Came back clean.”

“So, no priors or anything?” She drew out her words slowly.

“What’s this about, Emma?”

Drawing in a deep breath, she plopped down onto the sofa again. Here goes. “It’s just that, well, you know how you always hear after police catch someone for doing something awful, that people will say, ‘I saw something suspicious, but I never called the cops’? And you wonder, why didn’t they call the cops? They could have caught the creep already. Know what I mean?”

There were a few seconds of silence. “You saw this guy do something suspicious?”

“I don’t know.” She sank back onto the cushions. As precisely as possible, she described everything that had happened. “I know I saw a woman in that window, but he claims there was no one in the house. I have this weird feeling I need to tell someone about it.”

“Probably worth checking out. Tell you what, I’ll stop by there in a little while, take a look around. It’s probably nothing, but you did the right thing telling me, Emma.”

Her face felt warm to the touch as she covered it with her hand. Sometimes meek old Emma reared her head and filled Spider with self-doubt. Was she actually doing this? “I appreciate it, Jack; but do me a favour? Please be discreet in case I’m wrong. Please don’t mention this to my father either.”

Last thing she wanted was a visit from her overprotective old man during her vacation from him. There was a point at stake here: the point that she could very well take care of herself without needing him or anyone else to look after her.

They ended the call on Jack’s promise to keep it their secret, and Spider’s chest tightened. What if Noah West had already gotten rid of any evidence because of what she’d said? What if this made him so angry he came after her next?

Grimacing, she rushed to the window and looked at the house across the street. No car in the driveway. How long would it take the cop to get here?

Something wet and warm touched the back of her arm, and she screamed. Charlie shrank back and cowered away from where he’d licked her.

“Charlie! You scared me to death!” Hand over her heart, she reached out to pet the dog, even as she glanced at her laptop. She’d forgotten about her computer problems.

Focus on work. Don’t fret over the possible serial killer next door coming to murder you.

Biting her fingernails, she tried to connect to the Internet again and… nothing.

After she double-checked her laptop’s settings, she got up to reset the router. If that didn’t work, she’d call and check to see if there was an outage in the area. Could be a good excuse to hit up the closest Starbucks and avoid a possible confrontation with Noah.

The computer pinged once, twice, three times. What?

The screen was black except for fast scrolling green characters. It shouldn’t be doing that. Not at all.

She sat down and reached to hit the ESC key when she noticed what those green characters said.

HELP!

DANGER#

HELP!

DANGER#

HELP!

Shrieking, Spider scrambled up onto the couch cushions and clutched a pillow to her chest. Looking around, she only saw the cat stretched out in the bay window and the two dogs curled up on the floor, each staring at her as if she were a lunatic.

Heart pounding loud in her ears, she pointed at the screen. “That is not normal!”

She chanced a lean forward and watched the words continue to fly up the screen. The hair on her nape and arms lifted as a chill settled along her spine.

Enough of that. It was freaking her the heck out.

Her fingers trembled as she held the power button, forcing the computer to shut down. She waited ten seconds and rebooted the machine.

Don’t overreact. There’s a logical explanation for this.

Could be a virus. Some a-hole probably infected her machine and set the creepy message to display upon startup. Shaky laughter bubbled in her chest as she pressed her palms to her eyes. Of course. That had to be what it was. Not anything irrational, like a ghost or demon or anything. Only a virus.

She sagged against the cushions.

Well, crap. That could take a couple of days to clean up. She had work to do, not to mention she wanted to cyber-stalk Noah West. Photographer. Maybe professor. Possible serial killer.

The familiar chime and login screen popped up.

She input the information and everything came up normal, including the Wi-Fi this time.

“Weird.”

A virus scan should have been her first order of business, but she shook her head instead, pulled up the Internet browser, and searched for Noah West, Atlanta, GA to see what hits it returned.

Absolutely nothing of any worth.

Facebook. Couldn’t find him. Not on Twitter either. She ran through every social media site she could think of. Seemed kind of odd that a professional photographer couldn’t be found on Instagram.

“Hmm. Should I be bad?” she asked the dog at her feet.

Costello lifted his head and looked at her. Charlie’s doggy eyebrows shifted in concern as he released a long drawn-out sigh. He probably knew she was going to do it regardless of their opinions.

“You’re right. I should totally do it, just this once. He could be a serial killer, after all.”

Still, she hesitated before putting her fingers to work. Hacking without permission was plain wrong, and Spider didn’t take that lightly.

But hello, possible serial killer!

“I’ll only check the database we use at work,” she told the dogs. “Promise.”

Her hands flew over the keyboard, tapping for several minutes until she had accessed the professional database the firm subscribed to for access to public records, telephone information, social network hits and other useful goodies. She located a handful of people named Noah West in the agency’s database. Noah’s sinfully handsome picture stood out amongst the others.

Crystal green eyes stared back at her, and his handsome smile added a charming and intelligent character to those eyes she didn’t see very often in the guys she knew. They drew her in, sending a thrill of excitement racing through her veins.

He had great eyes.

So what? Ted Bundy was handsome.

She shook herself and tried to remain objective.

Seriously. What human looked that good in his driver’s license picture? That alone was suspect. She noted his age. Twenty-nine. Four years older than her. Huh. She would have put him in his mid-thirties.

She trusted Jack about Noah’s lack of a criminal record, but you could learn a lot about a person from their public records. If they had any outstanding fines. Whether or not they paid their property taxes on time. Previous addresses.

So much information was out there.

Noah’s address had changed about a month ago. Prior to that, he’d lived in Savannah. Actually, the guy seemed to move a lot. Six different addresses in the past five years.

A series of high-pitched beeps from her phone reminded Spider of the time. She closed out of all of the browser windows and pulled up the video chat on her computer.

Her boss and his new wife were honeymooning in Europe, and Hannah had insisted on checking in on her animals once a day, usually around noon Atlanta time.

Hannah, being the overprotective pet mom she was, insisted on seeing the animals, too.

Spider initiated the chat, angled the camera toward Charlie, who was snoring away, and went in search of her feline charge.

Abbott was curled up on the pillow Spider had been using at night – seriously, cat? – and hissed when she scooped him up.

When she re-entered the room, she heard Hannah’s voice cooing to Charlie. Costello had lumbered over to the coffee table and lifted himself to stand at the edge of the computer, his fluffy tail wagging.

“We’re here,” Spider called out. “I had to get the cat.”

Hannah Collins’ pretty face filled the screen. Her long, dark hair was pulled back and she was wearing a sage-green dress. “How are things going, Spider? Everything okay there?”

“Everything’s great. We’re fine.” Except for the dog escaping. “How’s your trip?”

“I love it here! London is amazing.”

Spider didn’t have many female friends… scratch that. She didn’t have many friends, period. Not since she’d ditched her Emma persona. But she and Hannah had gotten along like comrades on the Starship Enterprise from the moment they’d met. She was still a little awed the woman trusted her enough to invite her to stay here for almost a month. Spider sagged against the cushions and listened to her friend share a few stories as unexpected tears welled behind her eyes. She didn’t even know why. It just happened.

For some strange reason, Noah’s question about why she preferred for people to call her Spider came to mind. It was because most people hated it. Most times, the nickname creeped them out because they were afraid of arachnids or they thought it was stupid. Either way, it kept them at a distance, kept them from asking questions about Emma, kept her from having to explain about Paul, which is how she liked it.

But some people like Hannah had tiptoed around the barrier and found her anyway. She did have friends, good friends, and they didn’t care that she sometimes had blue hair and spouted sarcasm like a second language.

“Spider, are you okay?” Hannah asked.

Blinking and sitting forward, she used the excuse of having the cat in her lap. “Allergies, I think.”

Hannah tilted her head and smiled. “I hate to run, but we’ve got reservations for dinner and I don’t want to be late.” Hannah made kissy sounds at Abbott, Costello and Charlie.

“Hannah, quick question.”

“Sure.”

“How well do you know your neighbour? Um, the guy across the street.”

“You mean the hunk who just moved in?” Hannah wiggled her eyebrows. “I only met him once. Things have just been too crazy to welcome him properly. Why?”

Spider shook her head. “Just curious.”

“I was surprised when he moved in,” Hannah continued as she adjusted her earrings. “That house has been vacant for a long time. You know, all of the neighbourhood kids say it’s haunted.”

Spider sat forward. “Haunted?”

“I doubt it is. You know how stories get started. I’m sure Alexandra would have mentioned it if it was.” Made sense, since Alexandra saw dead people.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Remember. You can text us if there’s an emergency. Thanks again, Spider. Take care of my boys.”

Spider logged out of the chat, but her mind was stuck on the information she’d attained. It funneled through the conversation she’d had with Noah, about the woman in the window, his claim no one should have been in the house, and what she’d experienced that morning in bed.

Holy corndogs.

Had she seen a ghost?

“Shut the front door!” Spider’s fingers flew over the keyboard, this time typing in the address for Hannah’s house. It took her only a few seconds using satellite maps to figure out the house number for Noah’s place, and then—

Dozens of hits returned on that address, many from a ghost-hunting forum connected to an Atlanta-area paranormal group. The topics posted under the address sent ice-cold chills racing down her spine.

GeorgiaHunter414: Snuck into abandoned house at this address one night. Saw some freaky stuff.

MysticMerlin: Got some creepy EVPs here. This place is truly HAUNTED!!

A curse word she never used slipped out of Spider’s mouth. Noah wasn’t a maniac who chained up young women in his attic. He was being haunted!

***

Noah dropped his satchel in the doorway and threw his hands up in a gesture of resignation. His morning had been a waste. After the electrician had stolen a wad of money to tell him his house’s wiring was absolutely normal, he’d followed Alexandra King to the airport, watched her board a plane to Colorado and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do now that his second best source of information had left the city.

His eyes stung with exhaustion as he sank into the recliner in front of the TV. A few hours of sleep would be so damn nice right about now. Help him clear his head.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Every muscle in his body clenched tight until he realized the banging sound wasn’t coming from upstairs or the kitchen. Someone was at the front door. He really needed to get that doorbell fixed.

He swore and waddled to his feet.

A peek through the peephole gave him the back of a ginger-haired woman. He yanked open the door.

“Emma? Everything okay?”

She turned around, holding a tray full of cookies. The sight and smell of melted chocolate triggered his mouth to start watering. He swallowed.

“Oh, boy. You’re gonna keep calling me Emma, aren’t you? Fabulous.” Her tone was as resigned as it was dry. She shook her head a little before lifting the tray and smiling. “I made you some cookies as a thank you for checking on me. I mean, they’re only the kind out of a box that you stick in the oven for like, 10 minutes, but hey – cookies!” She lifted them higher.

“Come on in, and we’ll eat a few.” He opened the door wider and gestured her inside. His gaze skated toward the room he’d been using as an office and verified the door was closed. “I take it there haven’t been any more scares today.”

“Scares?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah, remember this morning? You thought someone was in your room.”

“Oh, right. No. No scares.” Her gaze strayed toward the stairs. “This is an interesting house. Do you like it?”

It needed a paint job and lots of repairs, but he supposed it was all right. “I’ve lived in worse places.” He couldn’t remember if he’d left any revealing papers in the living room, so he touched her arm and guided her toward the kitchen. “I bought some milk yesterday. It’ll go great with those cookies. Want some?”

“Sure.” She followed him into the one room he barely used. “Look, Noah, I wanted to explain that—”

Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

They both froze. Noah’s heart did a quick step around his chest until he realized it was again coming from the front door.

“Sorry. Be right back.”

“Um, Noah—” She opened and closed her mouth.

“Give me a minute.”

He peeked out and saw the same uniformed officer from yesterday standing on his doorstep. Pushing a hand through his hair, he opened the door. “Officer. What can I do for you?”

“Mr. West, I was wondering if I could take a look around.”

“Oh?” He crossed his arms. “Mind if I ask why?”

“I told him about the woman I saw in your window.”

Noah turned at Emma’s rushed voice behind him.

“I’m sorry,” she hurried to add. “I think I might have overreacted.”

Noah clenched his jaw to keep from swearing. This was the last thing he needed. If he refused the officer’s search, it would seem suspicious. If he allowed the man to look around, he’d expose his surveillance from the past month, the photos of the Collins and King pinned to a corkboard, which would look damn suspicious indeed.

He stepped aside. “Come on in, officer. Do whatever you need to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said again, red-faced. She took a step forward. “Jack, you don’t have to look around. I, um, tried to call and tell you not to worry about it.”

Noah watched the older man consider the young woman, his right hand not far from the weapon holstered at his side. “I don’t see what the harm is in checking things out. Do you, Mr. West?”

He shrugged and leaned against the wall. “Like I said, do what you need to.”

The officer’s gaze lifted toward the stairs. “I’ll start upstairs.”

“Help yourself.”

A grimace tightened Emma’s features as the officer walked past her. Her eyes pleaded an apology as she turned and followed the other man up the stairs.

Noah swore softly and ducked into the office, hiding the corkboard and moving his camera away from the window. He left the room’s door open and hurried to find them. He couldn’t remember if he’d left any documents or photos lying about upstairs.

The officer was thorough, opening closets, inspecting every room, even lowering the overhead attic door and climbing up to look around. When he came downstairs, he glanced into the office and went into the living room, and Noah hurried to distract them from the pile of documents on the table.

“As you can see, there’s no one here.” A cold sweat trickled down the back of his stiff neck. Emma stood beside the folder he’d left open on the end table last night, so he shifted to stand closer to her, to block the folder with his body. One of his business cards almost screamed “Noah West, Insurance Claims Investigator” in bold print on top of it. His investigation could be jeopardized if she – if anyone – saw it.

The officer grunted an agreement. “No signs of intrusion either. If anyone was in here last night, it’s not because they broke in.”

“I did see someone,” Emma insisted. “She had long dark hair, was wearing a white t-shirt and a jean jacket. She looked my age, maybe younger.”

Lanier frowned. “You know anyone like that, Mr. West?”

Noah shook his head, losing his balance under the movement. He sagged into the recliner behind him. A week ago, he’d dreamt about a woman matching that description exactly. He found it difficult to breathe as memories from the dream overwhelmed him. The dark-haired girl walking alongside the road, carrying a backpack. An old truck pulling up alongside her. A man’s voice muffled as he asked, “Need a ride?”

“Noah, are you okay?” Emma touched his forearm, calming a tide of dizziness and bringing him back to the present.

“Fine. Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping much.” He rolled his shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt to relieve the tension gathered there. “I appreciate you taking time out to come check my house, officer.” He stood and held out his hand.

The cop’s narrow-eyed gaze raked over him, dismissing the gesture. Noah sucked in his breath until the cop nodded. “Emma, can I have a word alone?”

“Sure.” She followed the officer onto the front porch, and Noah could only catch a few snippets here and there as he hurried to cover up the papers on the table. The officer murmured something about her being careful and that Noah seemed strung out of his mind. Her whispered reply was too soft to make out.

A few seconds later, the creak of the door opening again signaled her return. She slowly entered the room. “Hi.”

He clenched his jaw and met her gaze.

“The reason I came over was to warn you about that.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. Her words spilled out in a rush. “I’m really sorry. I tried to call him, but I couldn’t reach him again and I thought you were, well, never mind what I thought.” She took a deep breath. “Do you hate me?”

He forced a smile. “No, Emma, I don’t hate you. I’m glad you called him.”

“You are?”

He nodded and gave up on sliding the manila folder underneath some magazines. He wasn’t happy she’d called the cops on him, but he’d managed to avoid a messy scene and that was all that mattered. “Shows you’re more cautious than I first thought. Maybe I won’t have to keep an eye on you after all.”

“I don’t mind if you do.” Their gazes locked, and a slow simmer of lust stirred an arousal in his jeans. She looked away. “I guess I’d better be going.”

Stay. The thought caught him off guard. Asking her to stay would only lead to a complication he didn’t need right now.

Grabbing the base of his neck, Noah frowned. “Maybe you should.” She turned to leave, and he called out, “Emma?”

She lifted wide eyes to gaze at him. “What?”

“Just be careful. I meant what I said. If you need anything, give me a call.”

“Okay.” A few seconds later, the screen door banged shut behind her. Noah glanced around as unease settled in his gut.

Hell if he knew why.