Wandering Spirits I: Wandering Spirits Anthology, #1

By Kim Cox, Elizabeth Delisi, Chris Grover and 2 more

**5 amazing authors, 5 novellas, and 1 short story

HAUNTED HEARTS by Kim Cox

(Lana Malloy Paranormal Mystery Series, Book 1) 

Two ghosts, a hysterical neighbor and the handsome nephew of her aunt's 
fiancé and you get a mix bag of comical events. Lana Malloy embarks on a 
new career as a private investigator. She must solve the forty-year-old 
murder of her great aunt and her great aunt's fiancé or they will remain 
Haunted Hearts.

RESTLESS SPIRIT by Elizabeth Delisi 

Desperate to talk to her young son, who died from a rare, incurable blood 
disease, Laura St. Clair uses a Ouija board to try to reach him. But when 
she makes contact with the spirit world and receives a message, whom has 
she reached? And what does the spirit want in return for helping her?

VALENTINE'S INN by Chris Grover 
After being badly injured in an auto accident, which killed three of her friends, Rianna Gordon has given up on life. Then she meets Josh Byford, unaware that Josh is a ghost. Rianna is a lawyer not a hotelier, but rather than sell the country inn her family has owned for over a hundred years, Josh not only convinces her to reopen and run it, he finds her the perfect partner as well--the boy she fell in love with when she was nine years old and never quite forgot.

GHOSTS OF AULD LANG SYNE by Maureen McMahon

(Stacey Christian & Peter Mansfield: Book 2)

The second book of the series after Return of the Gulls, Stacey Christian 
and Peter Mansfield reunite in Ghosts of Auld Lang Syne to celebrate New 
Year with friends at a remote New England homestead. Are the terrifying 
incidents that befall the guests really only accidents? And why does the 
spectre of a young woman walk the halls? 

FATE’S LITTLE TRICK by Sheryl Hames Torres

Gemma McKenzie Fuller must put aside her fears and help someone 
from her past. Can a troubled child teach her that going back again could possibly be a Christmas miracle?
 
MEETING MR. WRIGHT by Chris Grover
Vicki figured the dream was simply a spin-off of her bedtime reading. She had no idea it was a prediction of things to come.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kim Cox
• Release date: Jul 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536555202

Book preview

HAUNTED HEARTS

(Lana Malloy Paranormal Mystery: Book 1)

KIM COX

Copyright © 2016 by Kim Cox

Dedication

To the love of my life and my best friend, my dear husband, Lee Cox

CHAPTER 1

How do you like it? Lucy Ann Malloy, stood at the top of the stairs, turned to the right then to the left as she modeled the blue and green pastel dress. I found it in the attic with some of my old things. She lingered in the doorway of the main floor. Well?

Lana Malloy looked up from editing the ad for her new PI business. Nice, she said and returned to her work.

Lucy moved to Lana’s side and gazed over her shoulder. What are you working on?

The ad for the local newspapers and a few magazines. I’ve got to figure out how to attract some business or I’ll never make it through the first month.

A chill filled the air surrounding Lana and she shivered, pulling her wrap tightly around her.

I have an idea and it’s actually a pretty good one. I know who your first client can be.

Without glancing away from her paper, Lana asked, And who would that be?

Me.

You? Her interest piqued, Lana shifted in her seat to face her aunt. What are you talking about?

Lucy’s white hair shone with blue highlights as if she’d had it rinsed recently. She was well preserved for someone who’d been dead twenty years. Find my murderer so I can rest in peace. How about it? Lana’s great-aunt had been with her since she moved into the old beach house in Charleston, South Carolina, five years ago.

But I need cash. Who would be paying for my services? Lana smiled, pulling her reading glasses off and laying them on the desk. She loved her great-aunt, but she could be a card. Lucy had always been a rebel, always trying to be different from everyone else. Besides, you died over twenty years ago. That’s a cold trail for sure.

I got money, smarty—a lot of money that no one has found . . . Lucy covered her mouth with both hands then removed them. Oh well, the cat is out of the bag now. I can’t spend it anyway.

But you died more than—

Let me finish. Shows how much you or any of those cops know. She glided back and forth across the room as if she were dancing at her coming-out ball.

Well?

Get out your pencil and pad and take notes.

Not until I’m sure what you’re telling me is the truth. Lucy sometimes changed details to suit herself and the moment, but she’d never talked about her death before today. Lana never questioned her because she thought it may be too painful for her aunt to relive.

Have I ever lied to you? Never mind, don’t answer that. Lucy laughed as she stopped in midair, lowered herself down to the desk and hovered in a sitting position above its surface. Then she crossed her legs. It was late May. The last thing I remember, I was helping Davide eat his supper. He’d been sick the last few days and I went over to visit. He didn’t eat much of his potato soup and I love potato soup on a cool night. You know that kind your mother used to whip up? Lucy licked her lips. I miss food more than anything else since I’ve been dead. There’s no need to eat anymore . . . no appetite.

Get on with your murder case, please.

Oh yeah. I tend to get sidetracked now and then, she said, smiling, her eyes twinkling. Anyway, I never left that room. Then I woke up in my own house dead and floating above my own body lying on the living room floor, right there in front of the sofa. The next morning, your mother came to see me and found me . . . I mean, my body. That’s it.

Right. You were poisoned, but your murderer was never caught, Lana mused.

You call yourself a private investigator? Elementary, my dear Lana. Use some logic. Clue number one, how did I get from Davide’s to my house?

Lana nibbled the eraser on the end of her pencil then flipped the paper over on her spiral notebook. She jotted down a couple of notes. So, you believe you were poisoned at Davide’s, but someone brought you back here either a few minutes before or after you died?

By golly, I believe she’s got it.

Are you sure you didn’t forget going home?

I didn’t forget. I was only sixty-five and not senile. Someone must’ve moved me while I was unconscious or after I died. Can’t you see that?

Lana stood and paced the room. It’s a possibility, I guess. She stopped, turned around and asked, What did the police say?

They said, 'The old broad croaked. No suspects.' And they investigated no further. Lucy moved up behind Lana. Clue number two, I’ve been reading up on my ghostly position as well. Did you know there are specific reasons why ghosts haunt places?

No. What are they?

According to this, my reason is . . . Lucy took out a book, brushed the air above it until it opened to the bookmark, and then she started to read. When someone is murdered and the murder goes unsolved, their spirit must wait around until the mystery is solved, usually around the anniversary of their death.

Where did you get that book?

Here, in this house.

Lana sauntered into the library and fingered through the books on the shelves. I didn’t know we had all these books on ghosts and hauntings. Lana smiled until she saw the woeful expression on Lucy’s face. She was serious about this and Lana felt badly she hadn’t realized it sooner. She loved the woman dearly, but often, Lucy kidded around so much it was hard to tell when her aunt was genuine. Where did these come from?

I found them in the attic, dusted them off and put them on the shelf last night. You believe me now?

I don’t know. I’ll read over some of these today and see what’s what. Lana brought a book back to her desk as Lucy followed. Turning toward her, she asked, What exactly did you figure out? And if you’ve solved it, why do you need me?

Not everything. Just what I need to do to get to my resting place. I was killed on May 26, 1994, two weeks before Davide and I were to be married.

So?

I need to find my murderer by Memorial Day this year, or I’ll be stuck here until next year, same time.

Why?

Because that’s when I died. Lucy placed her hands on her hips. Haven’t you been listening? Anyway, the book says it’s the only time I’ll have the opportunity this year to claim my eternity. She pointed to the book Lana held. It’s on page fifty-two.

Do you have any suspects? Lana flipped through the pages. This is interesting.

That old goat I was trying to help.

Davide? Your fiancé? Lana lifted her head.

Lucy nodded her head in agreement. That’s the goat.

You two were going to be married in a few weeks. Why would he want you dead?

That, I don’t know. But I think he’s as good a place to start our search as any. If it wasn’t him, it was someone in his family. They were all against us marrying. Especially Davide’s son, Anthony.

Our search? But you can’t—

But I can. Displaying a sneaky grin, she said, I read about it in that book. I can leave anytime I want. I haven’t wanted to badly enough until now. Plus, I need to attach myself to something in order to leave. That something, or rather someone, is you. She laughed.

A couple of hours later, Lana regarded Lucy as she drifted into her office with a tray of food—a tuna fish sandwich with pickles and chips. Lana still had her nose stuck in the book, The Mysterious Hauntings.

I thought you could use some nourishment. Seafood is brain food, you know.

When Lucy floated back across the room, Lana glimpsed a terrified face in the window nearest the side door leading to the carport. It was her neighbor, Roxie Thomas, with curlers in her bleached blonde hair and cold cream still covering her horrified face. When the dress glided toward a filing cabinet, Roxie’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. The closed window muffled her screams.

* * * *

Get back! Lana waved her aunt away. Roxie saw you. I mean she saw your dress. I’ll see if I can talk to her. But as Lana reached the door, Roxie ran away, her screeches fading as she widened the space between their houses.

Lana pointed around the room with her index finger and said, Fix this situation before I bring her back. She slammed the door behind her.

Lana’s house sat on stilts with two rooms adjacent to the carport at ground level—one room, the one closest to the carport sufficed as her new PI office leading into a library, entertainment and den combination. The office and the other room were divided by a wall with an arched doorway. Stairs led to the second level open-floor plan containing a living room-kitchen combination, two bedrooms with an adjoining bathroom between them.

Trotting across the yard, she caught up with Roxie on the other side of the hedge. Roxie, she yelled, Wait up.

Roxie dashed for her house without looking back. Stay away from me, you . . . you . . . you witch! I’m calling the cops. She stumbled up the steps sideways and sank slowly to her knees on her front porch.

Don’t be ridiculous! It’s not what you think. Please come back and see. Besides, how will you explain to the police that you were peeping through my window again? They don’t like peeping Roxies around here you know. They’ve already warned you about it. Lana leaned down to help her up, but Roxie snatched her hand away.

Don’t touch me! Stay away! Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. I know what I saw. They’ll believe me this time. Roxie wrapped her arms around her middle as if it would ward off any evil Lana may do to her.

Okay! Okay now, calm down. I want to help you, she said in her most soothing voice. Where’s Ralph? Can I get him for you? Lana motioned toward the front door.

Roxie held her hand up with the palm out to stop her. Don’t come any closer. He’s right inside the house. If I scream he’ll come. Her voice trembled. He’ll be out here any minute, so d-don’t you try any of your witchcraft voodoo on me. I’ve always known there was something weird about you . . . about your whole family.

What’s going on out here, Roxie? A big-bellied man with thinning hair stood in the doorway.

Ralph! Oh Ralph, I’m glad you’re here. She’s a witch. I-I saw her making stuff float around her office. She gestured with her hands in the air describing what she’d seen.

Mr. Thomas, I came to explain to your wife that what she saw was a new gadget I’ve invented to dry clothes. Lana smiled. Your wife thinks I twitched my nose or something to make a dress float across the room.

Ralph scratched the sprigs of hair left on his balding head. Roxie, you been snooping again? How many times—

I’m sure Mrs. Thomas wasn’t snooping. Were you, Roxie? Lana smiled down at her, sitting at Ralph’s feet.

Roxie wrapped her arms around his pajama legs. He unwrapped them and pushed her away. Get up from there. You’re acting like a nincompoop.

When Lana offered her a helping hand again she accepted it. That’s right. I wasn’t snooping. I went over to borrow some coffee when I saw that . . . that dress flying all over her office.

See? I knew she had a good reason for her being there, Lana confirmed.

Yeah, but she didn’t have to spy on you before knocking on the door, now, did she? Get in the house, Roxie, before someone calls the cops on you again.

Roxie made her way to the door, never taking her eyes off Lana.

Wait a minute. Don’t you still need that coffee? Lana asked innocently.

No. I’ll get some at the store, Roxie said in a defeated tone as she reached for the screen door handle.

But I wanted to show you the gadget. It’s nothing. I hate to think you’re frightened of me. We’re neighbors and I want to show you that what you saw wasn’t what you thought. Lana edged her way a little closer to the other woman.

Roxie opened the door and slid in behind her husband. Don’t let her hurt me, Ralph.

Stop this nonsense right now! Go with Lana, get the coffee and see the thing that’s making you act like an idiot.

Lana felt sorry for Roxie, living with a man who belittled her at every chance he got. No wonder the woman was a basket case half the time and Lucy acting up didn’t help either. Unfortunately, Lucy enjoyed scaring Roxie. Said it served the old snoop right and might stop her busybody ways. She’d disliked the Thomases for over twenty years, so Lana had given up on changing her mind.

But Lana suspected Roxie was lonely—stuck in the house all day with nothing to do but wait on Ralph hand and foot without him showing her any appreciation for all the things she did.

Come on and let me show you. She offered her a hand.

Well . . . Roxie hesitantly stepped out and around Ralph, ambling toward the door cautiously.

Please. I promise you’ll be relieved. Lana soothingly urged her closer.

Go on, woman. Ralph pushed Roxie out the door and shut the screen behind her.

Roxie tried to get back inside, but Ralph held the door tight then flipped the hook lock in place so she couldn’t escape back into the house. He chuckled when she pulled desperately on the door handle.

Lana’s heart went out to her. She eased her way to Roxie’s side and took her by the hand. Come on. I’ll bring you right back. If I don’t, Ralph will come and get you. Won’t you, Ralph?

Yeah. Sure I will. He laughed again. Stupid woman is afraid of her own shadow.

Lana wanted to yell at him, You ignorant ingrate, you’re not helping. Can’t you see your wife’s had a terrible fright? But she kept her mouth shut, knowing it wouldn’t help and might worsen the situation. Roxie’s whole body trembled, causing the curlers on her head to jiggle.

As they entered the doorway of Lana's house, she saw the dress now hung on a thin clear line and thanked the heavens her aunt had known what to do. Sometimes she thought the two of them occupied one brain when it came to fixing things.

Lucy made herself visible to Lana and winked at her, then stuck her tongue out at Roxie. Lana rolled her eyes upward before speaking to Roxie. See, the dress is hung on a line.

But . . . but, how did you get it to move from there to here and over to there.

See here? Lana followed Lucy to the desk on the far side of the room and found the makeshift control where Lucy pointed. I pull the string here and move it wherever I want. She indicated above them. And the line runs from here to the doorway over there, going right by the file cabinets.

Roxie’s face turned a bright shade of red. I’m such a numbskull, like Ralph says.

No, you’re not. Anyone would’ve been scared by what you saw. But you know, you shouldn’t peep into other people’s windows like that. She gazed at Lucy, who was nodding her head and laughing as she glided by them.

I know. I don’t know why I do things like that. I wanted to make sure you were up and not busy before intruding.

You’re never an intrusion. Feel free to visit any time. Lana crossed her fingers behind her back to counter the little white lie.

Thank you, Lana. I’m so sorry I acted like such an old fool. Roxie shivered. It’s cold in here. How can you stand having that air conditioner on as cool as it is today?

Oh, but it’s not... Lana stopped herself, realizing why the room was chilled. I must have turned it on instead of the heat by mistake and the darn thing is stuck. She tightened her already crossed fingers. I was going to fix that after I finished hanging the clothes.

Let me send Ralph over to fix it for you. He’s pretty handy at fixin’ things around the house, you know. It’s the least I can do.

Lana edged Roxie toward the door. Oh no, that’s not necessary. The button fell off and rolled under something. I can turn it off as soon as I find the knob. Or if I can’t, I’ll use the pliers to turn it off. But thank you for the offer. That was nice of you, and I appreciate it.

Lucy put her finger in her mouth and pretended to gag—something she’d learned recently and overused.

Lana pursed her lips and creased her brows, giving Lucy a quelling stare. When they got to the door, Roxie turned around. I almost forgot. Can I get that coffee now?

Yes. It completely slipped my mind too. Follow me. Lana turned to go upstairs to the kitchen.

I’ll wait here, Roxie said, backing closer to the side door.

* * * *

Lucy watched as Roxie slipped over to Lana’s desk and skimmed over the papers stacked there.

Oh, busybody! Lucy hated nosy people more than anything.

Roxie turned the corner of a sheet up with two fingers and leaned over slightly, tilting her head to one side so she could see what was written on the paper under it.

Lucy noticed one drawer wasn’t completely closed on the file cabinet. She flew over and pushed it with all her might. The drawer slammed shut with a loud bang.

Roxie jumped, her eyes wide as she searched the room for the source of the noise. Lucy whooshed by her so fast, the breeze lifted one of the curlers on Roxie’s head. Then, she hurried over, opened and slammed another drawer.

At this, Roxie ran for the door. Oh God! Let me out of this crazy house, she cried as she struggled with the knob.

Lana returned with the cup of coffee grounds in her hand. What in this world? Roxie! Here’s your coffee.

Without a word, Roxie reached for the cup with one hand and grasped the doorknob with the other.

Lana gave Lucy another narrow-eyed stare. Here, let me help you with that.

Lucy shrugged her shoulders. Could she help it if the woman couldn’t handle loud noises? It wasn’t her fault. The old biddy shouldn’t have been snooping.

Roxie’s teeth chattered. The cream on her face now appeared dry and cracked. What do you have here? Ghosts? Poltergeists?

Well, I never. Can you believe she called me a poltergeist? The nerve of that idiot woman.

Lucy!

Lucy clasped her hand over her mouth when she realized Lana had said her name aloud without thinking. As Roxie struggled, Lana was able to open the door for her but only after she pried Roxie’s hands off the knob.

CHAPTER 2

Lana watched Roxie shoot across the lawn dividing their properties, noticing she didn’t slow down until she closed in on her own yard. Surely, she would clear the shrubs with one jump! Instead she slowed at the last minute and circled them. Stumbling up the steps again, she dropped to her knees at the top and crawled across the porch until she was out of sight. Lana closed the door, surprised Roxie hadn’t spilled the coffee or dropped the mug. She knew it was the last they’d see of that cup or of Mrs. Roxanne Thomas.

Lucy’s lips spread into a satisfied smile.

Lucy Ann Malloy! How dare you treat that poor woman like that. Isn’t it bad enough that her husband treats her like a second-class citizen?

Is that my fault? Chill, dearie! She got what she deserved.

Did you move the papers on my desk?

No. Snoopy did that. She was going through your things. That’s why I had to get her attention. Lucy floated to the other side of the room. If you have no further use of my services, I’m outta here.

Go on. Lana organized the strewn papers.

If you need me, I’ll be in the attic. Lucy glided up the stairs as if she were riding a chairlift.

* * * *

Lana spent all weekend reading every book in the bookcase on ghosts and hauntings while Lucy tried on all her old dresses from the attic. At least she stayed away from the windows as Lana asked and Roxie hadn’t been bold enough to come back.

I’ve run out of things to do and dresses to try on. You should give the old rags to the poor anyway. When can we start searching for my murderer?

The chill of Lucy’s presence brought Lana out of her trance. This stuff is interesting. I believe I understand now how it all works. It says here I can see you because I’m open-minded about the spirit world.

When do we start?

I see no reason why we can’t start today, but I haven’t decided where.

The Calabria Estate. Start there. I’d like to ask the old goat why he poisoned me.

You can’t ask him . . . he’s dead. For heaven’s sake, Lucy, Davide was seventy when he died. Even if he hadn’t been murdered, it’s doubtful he’d still be alive now. And even if he weren’t dead, he couldn’t hear you. Lana shut the book. Give me a few minutes to get ready.

Lucy sailed toward her and pulled on her arm. He’s dead too?

Yeah. So?

When did he die? Her transparent complexion faded even more.

I’m not sure, but I do remember hearing Davide Calabria’s son, Anthony, inherited his estate, although, there was some type of conflict over it. The son was married to an Angela Casale, but she later divorced him because there was talk of an illegitimate daughter. I don’t know if there’s anything to that though. Just gossip. As a matter of fact, Angela divorced Anthony not too long after Davide’s death.

You’re kidding.

No. I remember now. The police even questioned Mom about you, asking if you were involved in his death.

Me? That’s ridiculous. More likely that money-grubbing son of Davide’s. By now, Lucy was darting back and forth in front of Lana. So, Anthony has a daughter. This is all very interesting. Davide never mentioned a granddaughter, only his two grandsons, Davide III and Derek. Wish you knew when he died. How do you know all this?

Rumors I’ve heard over the years. Anthony moved to another state, ran off with another woman after Angela kicked him out of the Calabria Estate. The courts awarded the house to Angela and Davide III. Lana climbed the stairs leading from the office to her living quarters.

Who lives there now?

She turned around when she reached the top of the steps. Davide the third or as everyone calls him, Tony.

* * * *

Lana walked through the parking lot near The Office of Vital Records in Charleston, the salt air filled her lungs as she turned her face into the warm sun and the cool breeze. Buildings were scarce on Bridges View Drive, so she didn’t get the force of wind traveling through and around buildings.

She planned to check out the death certificate of Davide Antonio Calabria, Sr. before knocking on the door and asking all kinds of questions that the grandson probably had no answers for anyway. She didn’t want to destroy her aunt’s belief they’d solve her case but Lana felt they could run into a brick wall. After all, the police hadn’t had any leads or suspects in almost twenty years.

No one was around anymore who knew anything about Lucy or Davide. The grandson, Tony, would’ve been a child at the time. Lana had been four and the grandson would’ve been a little older than she was at the time.

Lucy had made herself invisible even to Lana before leaving the security of the house. It wouldn’t do for anyone else with an open mind to see her hovering beside her.

A tall, good-looking man walking ahead of Lana yelled, Ow! and jumped a few inches off the ground before turning around and giving her a one-eyed stare. He rubbed his rear and then turned back around, walking much faster away from them.

Lucy, she whispered, what did you do?

Just a little pinch, my girl. They didn’t make men like that in my day.

You’re unbelievable! If you’re not good, I’ll take you back home and you can wait there until I return.

Lucy laughed. Did you see the tight muscles in his arms, the dark as night hair and the rear on that man? Ooh la la! Can’t believe you’re still single with men like that in the world. When’s the last time you had a date anyway?

I do okay. Besides, I’m in no hurry to settle down. A cool breeze blew in from the ocean and she breathed deeply.

Whatcha waiting for? Remember, the Grim Reaper could come a-calling at any time and that’s one fella you don’t want interested in you.

The right man hasn’t surfaced yet. Lana cleared her throat. Here we are. Lana had never been to the building before, so she ambled up to the counter to speak to the clerk.

The clerk asked, Can I help you with something?

Yes. I’m doing family genealogy research, and I need to see some death certificates, Lana lied. She didn’t want anyone to know, at least not yet, that she was investigating Davide Calabria’s murder. Not that the clerk would say anything, but you never know where the simplest thing could lead. She wasn’t taking the chance.

The last name? The tall, lanky woman behind the tiled counter appeared bored as if she didn't like her job much.

Uh, Calabretta. Lana forced a smile. She figured Calabretta should be in the same book as Calabria.

Right back. With that she turned and walked away. When she came back, she opened the door and ushered Lana into a room. You can’t take the book with you. You have to search through it here. If you want copies, you can do that for $15 each. She pointed to the copier. But you can’t take the book with you.

I hadn’t planned to . . . Ah, okay. Lana sat at the table and thumbed through the big book of last names, Ca through Cob. Calabria, here it is. She felt the chill of Lucy leaning over her shoulder.

The clerk turned around. Did you need me for something?

Oh, no. Sorry. I was thinking aloud. Lana’s face grew warm with embarrassment.

It says he died on May 26, 1994 at 9:59 p.m. and also of arsenic poisoning, Lucy said.

That’s odd. Wonder why I never heard that before? I always thought he died the day after you. But I guess that does make more sense as to why they suspected you. Lana directed her voice to the clerk. May I have the M’s now, please?

The woman didn’t acknowledge her.

Excuse me. Miss! Lana almost snapped her fingers when the lady still didn’t respond, but she hated for anyone to do that to her. So she tried to be patient, although it was hard with the excitement she felt coursing through her veins at the moment.

The long-legged woman with dark curly hair eventually turned around. You’re talking to me now?

Yes. I’d like to see the book with the M’s.

Name? she asked.

Malloy.

I’ll get it for you in a minute. The clerk went back to what she was doing but after a few minutes, she closed her book and went to the large shelf of document books.

Why do you want the Ms? Lucy asked