Braxton Campus Mysteries Collection - Books 5-8

Chapter 2-3

“Yes, I do,” I affirmed indifferently, secretly psyched to discover what she"d meant. “I"ve dealt with a few members of that clan. Judge Hiram Grey has been on the bench in Wharton County for thirty years. I"m unhappily working with his ex-wife, Belinda Nickels Grey, to plan the upcoming Fall Festival, and I"ve taught two of his granddaughters, Imogene and Carla.” Even though Hope"s primary field of study was paranormal literature, I chose not to mention the possibility that Prudence Grey"s hostile spirit was threatening to murder me if I moved into her house. Some people would think I was crazy.

“I might ask for an introduction. May I count on you?” Hope"s expression matched her namesake, but a hint of despair also undercut her diffident tone. She fussed with a sleeve on her trim ivory-colored jacket until it lined up with an underlying tangerine silk blouse.

“I don"t mean to pry, but you mentioned righting some wrong from the past. I"ll help as long as you have good intentions, but I"d prefer not to get involved in anything problematic or confrontational.”

righting some wrongHope settled against the chair. “Nothing at all to worry about. To be honest, I have extraordinarily little to go on but the rambling words of a woman who"s sadly developing a touch of Alzheimer"s.” Hope explained that a doctor had diagnosed her mother with the disease after several bouts of forgetfulness during the year. While it wasn"t serious yet, Hope had convinced her mother and a close aunt to move into her own home while she was out of town. During the moving process, they"d found personal items that prompted her mother to share stories about the years she"d lived in Braxton.

“How long did she spend here?” I wondered if Nana D had known the woman.

“I"m not sure. It"s possible she grew up in Wharton County, but Momma never talks about her childhood. I first learned of her connection when we were cleaning the attic and found a picture of her in front of the school library.” Hope rested a palm against her chest, revealing the pain she"d been harboring over her mother"s illness. “It looks different now, but it"s definitely the same building.”

Hope noted that the college"s final meeting on Memorial Library"s upcoming renovations was about to begin, citing how Maggie Roarke had suggested she attend the event to get acquainted with others on campus. I wanted to join myself but realized April would arrive soon and Maggie could update me the following day. As Hope exited, a tangy citrus scent emanated off her skin and hung in the air.

Although I had no idea when Hope"s mother had lived in Braxton, could the woman have a connection to Hiram"s missing first wife? I exited the building, pondering whether there were any available pictures of my not-so-friendly apparition. I entered notes on my phone"s to-do list, reminding myself to check the college"s archives for the photograph and to ask Hope for her mother"s full name. Something told me the solution couldn"t be that simple; was it only a coincidence that a potentially vengeful ghost or irrational human being had vandalized my new house at the same time Dr. Hope Lawson moved to Braxton?

Excising irrational thoughts from my head, I rambled through cozy, tree-lined residential streets toward my block, Dead End Lane. While my house was exceedingly close to Memorial Library on Braxton"s North Campus, the winding streets and uneven terrain made it much longer to transition from one place to the other. The cul-de-sac had been aptly named. It bordered a wooded area full of blackened tree stumps, was inaccessible except by one dark, gloomy road, and resided on the peak of a hill where criminals and a trio of witches had been hung to death centuries ago. Leaves swirled and danced in the errant and damp air, almost scampering to safety from something lurking in shadows.

In the spirit of the Halloween season, many homes in the neighborhood tied scarecrows to their lampposts and draped cotton cobwebs across their front porches. Pine trees dropped sharp needles to the rustic ground, roaring fires burned intoxicating cedar plank scents in nearby fireplaces, and various passersby devoured tart apple cider with cinnamon spice sticks. My favorite house had installed giant blow-up pumpkins that would glow nightly with brilliant orange, green, and yellow lights. My next-door neighbors had even assembled a skeleton family that feverishly dug fake graves on their front lawn, which explained the reason for my intense nightmare that weekend.

April parked in my driveway and exited her car, fixing several platinum-blonde strands of hair as the wind carelessly blew them out of place. “Hey, stranger,” she called out as I walked the pathway. The front yard had once been attentively landscaped, but lack of proper care over the years had left it overgrown and muddled.

Although exhaustion sprang from April"s freckled skin and sparkling lime-green eyes, she greeted me with a smile. A growing hint of wariness was mixed in too, as we hadn"t seen one another in a month because of our schedules. “It must relieve you not to travel back to Buffalo again.”

April leaned forward, then scoffed. “Yes, it"s done. From what I hear, you kept yourself out of trouble while I was gone. The Unlikely Death Locator has been quiet for three months.”

The Unlikely Death Locator“Of course. We didn"t have any murders while you were away. Maybe I"m not such a blight on the county"s record, huh?” My body tingled and flushed at being so close to April, despite her newest nickname referencing my knack for stumbling upon cadavers.

“Yet a ghost is theoretically threatening you. You"re not as squeaky clean as you"d like, Kellan.”

I unlocked the spider-free front door and showed April the message that the vandal had written near the basement. She stressed the same questions I had posed to Nicky and the rest of the workers. “Not a single person was here, nor did anyone see anything. Still no keys. I might make one up.”

“I"m not inclined to believe it was a homeless person eager to stake his claim,” she advised, thumbing the c***k between the doorjamb and its molding. “It"s sealed tighter than Scrooge"s wallet.”

The sun had just begun setting, pouring through the kitchen window and enveloping April"s body as she leaned forward. Though not one to easily fall prey to enchantment, the experience felt magical. Stepping forward, I rested my nervous hands on April"s curvy hips. Just inches away, the aromatic floral perfume she"d generously splashed on her wrists enticed me. “It"s been a long time since the wedding.” We"d kissed briefly that day but were interrupted from engaging in anything intimate.

“You look too sexy for your own good, Kellan. The kids are gonna be here any minute, and we"ve never finished chatting about this chemistry between—”

“Do you want to talk, or do you want to go with the moment?” I pulled April closer and locked our nervous lips together. Her hands gripped my neck, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine, not to mention other places I couldn"t ignore. You always remembered your real first kiss, but it"s rare when the intensity blindsided your ability to think straight.

“Did that answer your question?” she teased, letting one hand tickle the space between my pecs and abs before traveling toward my waist. When she found my belt buckle, she yanked me closer and nuzzled against my cheek. “It"s good to be home.”

“That… was worth waiting for,” I whispered, then gently bit her neck. I was about to focus on her lips again, but a disturbing noise got in the way. “Is it possible to ignore whoever is calling you?”

April shook her head and angled away from me. Our bodies still pressed together, leaving only enough room to retrieve the phone from her pocket. “Not this time. Connor"s updating me on the unexpected events at Braxton"s latest meeting on the Memorial Library renovations. Things got ugly earlier, and I am concerned about something far worse happening.”

“That doesn"t sound good.” I cursed my best friend for interrupting my moment with April. Yes, Connor was the newest detective in the Wharton County Sheriff"s Office, and she was his boss, but couldn"t he disappear for ten minutes? “I"ll drop a heavy weight on his foot at the gym tomorrow morning. They say payback"s a b—”

April put a finger to my lips and pressed accept on the screen. “Hey, Connor. What"s going on?”

If she wouldn"t let me speak, I"d distract her. I unfastened two buttons on my shirt and began what I hoped was a seductive striptease worthy of Magic Mike. Unfortunately, her eyes looked frightened as she turned away from me and blasted Connor. “You couldn"t break up a fight between a crowd of academics twice your age? What kind of crazy people are we dealing with now, Connor?”

Magic Mike