Karen Whiddon - Shades of the Wolf

“I’ll make sure no other ghosts bother you,” he told her, apparently not noticing her inner struggle.

As distractions went, his statement was pretty good. Intrigued, she tilted her head. “How will you do that?”

“Simple. I’ll ask my spirit guide to put a circle of protection around you.”

“What?” she started to ask. But he was gone. Just like a candle flame snuffed out by a gust of wind.

Alone again, she sighed. Maybe she’d dreamed all this up. It was entirely possible the eighteen months of celibacy since David’s death had made her come completely unhinged.

Except for one thing. Why would she even think about serial killers and sisters in need of rescue?

Whichever Tyler Rogers turned out to be, a genuine ghost or a figment of her lonely imagination, she’d do what she could to find out information on his sister. Dena, he’d said. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to find someone named Dena Rogers in a town the size of Leaning Tree.

That night, when she turned out the light, she went to sleep in blissful silence. No ghostly specters haunted her, not in her house or in her dreams.

* * *

The next morning, she opened her eyes and sat up in bed, feeling completely rested and refreshed. Outside, bright sunshine hinted at the heat to come, but since it was only seven in the morning, she knew it would still be comfortable outside.

In the time since David had died, she’d gradually changed her bedroom, adding little feminine touches here and there. David had hated flowers, though Anabel loved them. A new comforter—floral—and some artwork that she loved had made the room totally hers. She’d told herself she might as well like it, since she’d be spending the rest of her life alone.

Stretching, she thought of her ghostly visitor. Today was her day off. Originally she’d planned to spend it puttering in her garden and hanging out with her cat, Leroy. He was big and fluffy and black and the laziest cat she’d ever known. She loved him so much it hurt.

Instead she guessed she’d better get busy seeing what she could find out about missing girls from Leaning Tree and the surrounding area.

“Good morning,” a sexy male voice said behind her, making her jump. “I trust you slept well.”

Gasping, she spun around so fast she nearly fell. “Rule number one. You can’t just pop in and out of here whenever you feel like it.”

Boldly handsome, he stood between her bed and her window. The sunlight made copper highlights in his brown hair.

“Why not?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “It’s what I do.”

“Well, stop it. And rule number two, no reading my mind.” She stomped off toward her bathroom, shooting him a warning look. “And stay out here until after I’ve showered and dressed.”

Once she’d closed the door, she looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. She’d braided her long hair before bed, to keep it from tangling. That, combined with the oversize (and to be honest, ratty) T-shirt she slept in, made her look a little witchy. Since half the people in Leaning Tree thought she was a witch, she guessed it didn’t matter.

Shaking her head at her weird and out-of-place vanity, she turned the shower on hot, pulled off her T-shirt and jumped in.

Though she normally rushed through her morning preparations, since she usually had to be at the diner to cook for the breakfast crowd, this morning she took her time and enjoyed the peace and quiet. No ghostly images swirled in the steamy mirror as she blow-dried her hair. No voices cried out their muted torment while she dressed. She hadn’t realized how much she appreciated the silence until now. Maybe she wasn’t going crazy after all.

Finally, she emerged to find Tyler reclining on her sofa, long, muscular legs spread out in front of him. Today she saw he again wore a soldier’s combat uniform, camouflaged desert colors, and boots. She froze, flashing back to the last time she’d seen David, wearing the exact same thing as she’d taken him to the airport to make the long flight back to Afghanistan.

“Are you okay?” Peering closely at her, her ghostly visitor seemed a bit more solid than he had the day before.

“Don’t you know?” she asked crossly, turning away so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“You asked me not to read your mind.”

“Oh. Right.” Crossing into the kitchen, she made herself a cup of coffee. “Thank you. And also thanks for the protection-circle thing or whatever you said. It worked. I didn’t have a single ghost last night.”

The fragrant smell of coffee made her mouth water. She poured herself a cup, adding a spoonful of powdered creamer and a packet of sweetener.

When she turned, she caught him eyeing her mug with a wistful expression.

“I miss that,” he rumbled. “Among other things.”

Heat flashed through her, so intense she nearly staggered. Not good, especially if Tyler could intuitively guess how she felt.

Deciding to let that comment go, she scowled at him. “Why are you here?”

One dark eyebrow arched. Sexy, again. “You didn’t really think I’d retreat into the ether and wait for you to summon me, did you? We’re working together on this.”

She shrugged, pretending not to care. “Fine. I’m going to do some research on the internet first. I need to find any news stories about missing girls. I also want to do a search for Dena Rogers.”

“Plus, I can tell you where she works and lives,” he offered. “We might even go there.”

“Of course.” Rummaging in the refrigerator, she grabbed the roll of bagels, sprayed each side with vegetable oil, popped them in the toaster and, when they were done, spread a generous dollop of peanut butter on each one.

Tyler watched, his hazel eyes glittering, as she retrieved her breakfast and sat down to eat it.

“What?” she finally asked. “Have you never seen anyone cook breakfast before?”

“Cook?” he snorted. “I don’t call that cooking.”

She rolled her eyes in response. Since her mouth was full, she didn’t deign to reply. Protein and carbs, and tasty too. When she’d finished, she got up, rinsed the plate off and placed it in the dishwasher. Taking a deep sip of her coffee, she padded to the room she used as an office and booted up her ancient desktop. She sensed Tyler right behind her, her awareness of him a prickling along her spine.

“You don’t have a laptop?” Tyler asked, the astonished tone in his voice making it clear he thought she lived in the Dark Ages. The mischievous look in his eyes filled her with unwanted longing. To cover, she shook her head.

“Ghosts don’t get to be picky,” she pointed out, sitting back in her chair while she waited for the computer to finish booting up. If she didn’t look at him, maybe she could manage to avoid all these unwanted feelings. “And yes, I had a laptop. David took it with him to Afghanistan. It never made it back, so I’m guessing someone from his unit kept it.”

Finishing her coffee, she got up to make another cup, walking right past his still surprisingly solid form, her heart pounding, without him commenting.

When she returned, she checked on her computer, which appeared to be ready, and clicked on the icon for Google Chrome.

“Doesn’t that drive you crazy?” he asked. “Computers aren’t that expensive anymore. I’d think it’d be worth it to spring for a new one.”

“Maybe.” Concentrating on the screen, she searched for the local newspaper. “But not today.” Once she had the paper up, she searched the archives, using keywords missing and lost and even runaway .

“I’ll be—”

Suddenly, he materialized right next to her, practically on top of her, making her jump and bump her knee on the bottom of her desk. “What?” he asked. “Let me see.”