Wraith's Heart

By Donna Steele

When Gail Duncan finds herself in her home town with no memory and, unfortunately, dead, she's a little confused. Deciding to stay close to Ryan Davis, the hunky detective investigating her murder she might as well help out on the case.

Ryan has other problems than this recent murder. He earned his honorable discharge but the past is still with him. He's used to seeing things as black and white, so what's helping him with his investigation, and why is his apartment no longer as lonely?

Together they work on the case and learn about one another, and what they can accomplish, in ways neither had ever dreamed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna Steele
• Release date: Mar 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386050469

Donna Steele

Women strong enough for love. Donna writes science fiction, paranormal and small town romances about women coming into their strength and having the courage to find and accept love. Now that she has retired from going into an office every day, she created an office at home and writes full time. Talk about living the dream! She was the girl at the party who was yearning for the quiet corner and a book to read (go Rory Gilmore!), and has been writing in her head since she learned to read. Getting those stories down on paper (or in her laptop) has been more fun than she ever imagined it could be. The possibilities of science fiction have always drawn her and she's read them all, there just needed to be a little more romance in them. She finally got up the courage to write them herself and is delighted to be able to share these stories with you. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal Chapter of RWA and the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers. She can be reached at www.steelestories.com, www.facebook.com/donnasteeleauthor, or https://twitter.com/steele_donna

Book preview

Wraith’s Heart

By

Donna Steele

Other Books by Donna Steele

Science Fiction/Paranormal

Rth Rising Series

Rth Rising – Book One, Rth Rising Series

Rth Claimed – Book Two, Rth Rising Series

The Melting Series

The Infection – Book One, The Melting Series

The Progression – Book Two, The Melting Series

The Cohesion – Book Three, The Melting Series

Another Time Series

Another Time – Book One, Guardians of Now Series

Alien Embrace

Wraith’s Heart

Before You

Learning Trust

Small Changes

Cancun Memories

Contemporary Romance

Dance Partner

Homecoming

Mac’s Family

Red Shoes

Welcome Home

Christmas Novellas

Nowhere for Christmas

Christmas Present

Christmas With Family

Working Christmas

Copyright

Copyright @ 2018 Donna Steele

Wraith’s Heart

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web without permission in writing from the publisher.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or name. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Artist: Robert Steele, Second Edition ©2018

Previously published by Rebel Ink Press LLC

Dedication

As always to Darwin who makes all of this possible

And to Rollin, who made this book so much better

Chapter One

Ryan Davis pulled into the parking lot and left the car close to the ambulance. Having been awakened at two a.m., he hadn’t done his complete exercises, but at least he’d done the deep breathing on the way here. He didn’t enjoy a murder, but the call had cut short the nightmare and he did welcome that.

He approached his officer, but could see the paramedics were beginning to pack up.

Bring me up to speed, he addressed the uniformed cop keeping an eye on the scene. Ross Jenkins was a uniform, young and enthusiastic. It was good he’d drawn this.

I got a call of a woman passed out in the parking lot, and an ambulance requested. We arrived together and they took over CPR on the woman. He shook his head. No response. She was dead before we got here.

Shot?

Again the officer shook his head. I spoke briefly with Mr. Sanders, he indicated the man standing off to the side. There were few bystanders this early in the morning. He indicated he was returning to the hotel, and saw her drop to the ground. No one around her. He called 911, started CPR, and remained on the scene.

He saw nothing.

No, sir.

Robbed?

Haven’t had the opportunity to check.

Okay. Looks like they want authority to move her. We better get some pictures, see what we can find. It was damn early on a Monday morning. Someone from Doc Collins’ shop would be needed on site. There was a call he would have hated to make.

Great start to the week.

He approached the body now that he wouldn’t be in the way. He looked down and caught his breath. Damn, she was beautiful. He didn’t recognize her. She was young, maybe mid-twenties. Too pale of course, but her honey brown hair was long and disarranged around her head. It brought to his mind the look of a woman asleep with her hair curling and spread across his pillow. His hand started to go out and touch it before he caught himself.

He didn’t realize he had knelt beside her until he felt the asphalt under his knee. Why did the story of Snow White occur to him? That would cast him in the role of Prince Charming, and he was neither prince nor charming. He was a cop, a veteran and one of the walking wounded. The scars just didn’t show.

Lt. Davis?

He startled back to the present and dusted off his knee to buy the time to compose himself. "Yeah?

Do you want me to take Mr. Sanders to the station?

No. You stay here and secure the scene until CSU can get here.  I’ll take him with me.

Yes, that would be best. He didn’t know the woman and his opportunity to get to know her was past, way past. But if she had been alive, he would have pursued it, her. Of course the first time he’d been attracted to a woman in ages she happened to be dead. Fitting.

He could see no wound and motioned for the EMT. I’m not seeing any blood.

There is none. I’m guessing heart attack. We didn’t find any wounds. Couldn’t pick up any scent of alcohol. She looks healthy. They’re going to do an autopsy, standard in a case like this, but I see no obvious foul play. Maybe drugs . . . Anyway we’ve called for the coroner.

Thanks. I’ll go speak to our witness. Jenkins, do you have her effects and the photos you need?

Jenkins held up a plastic bag holding a cell phone, wallet and keys. I’ll start on the photos.

Ryan straightened and headed for the man Jenkins had pointed out. He held out his hand to shake. I’m Lt. Davis. I appreciate you hanging around this late.

The man nodded. Andrew Sanders.

I’m going to ask you to come down to the station. We need a formal statement of what you saw when you discovered the body.

Yes sir. I’m living here at the hotel, but I haven’t seen her here. My wife and I are separated, and I haven’t gotten a place yet. I was at Sudswork, the bar over there.

Was she at the bar with you? Ryan moved him toward the car.

No sir. I would have spotted her.

Ryan nodded in agreement. He would have as well. There was something about the woman that tugged at him. I’ll give you a ride. Hopefully it won’t take long. He found his eyes drifting back to the victim.

I need to go to the station?

Yes. He forced his eyes back to Sanders. It’s a formality. We need you to get what you remember down now, while it’s fresh.

Oh, yeah, okay. Don’t suppose I could get a note explaining why I’m no good at work tomor—uh, later today?

I’ll see what I can do. Ryan motioned to his car, then turned back to Jenkins. I’ll be back as soon as I can. You have the scene until CSU shows.

Jenkins nodded. Yes, sir. Ryan saw the younger officer had already taped off the area. He glanced at the young woman once more, then reached for his car door. Before he could enter, he spotted the CSU van turning into the driveway.

He opened the door and leaned in. I need to speak to the officer for a minute. Please wait here.

Yeah, no problem. Sanders leaned his head back and rubbed his fingers across his eyes.

Ryan and Jenkins moved to meet at the van. Chuck. Ryan nodded to the white haired man as he emerged from the vehicle. You got here quick.

Thanks for securing the area. Chuck Ellerbee, head of the CSU team, scanned the yellow tape.

Jenkins nodded.

Are you thinking murder?

I have a witness in my car. I’m going to take him in, get a statement. I hope it won’t be long. EMTs said the coroner has been called.

Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Chuck had already turned away, surveying the area from a distance.

Ryan returned to his car and couldn’t help glancing over one more time.

Sorry for the delay. Want to be sure everything’s under control before I leave.

I understand. Do you want me to tell you what happened?

Not here. What we’re going to do is give you a little privacy and a pad of paper. I want you to write down everything you remember. It can help you get it straight in your head and we’ll have a record.

Yeah, okay.

The only place with a semblance of privacy at the station was the interrogation room, which fortunately was empty. Ryan left the door open to reassure Sanders, and grabbed a cup of the truly horrible sludge they called coffee around here. When he’d been in training, he had thought tales of bad coffee were a myth used to keep the trainees in line. Unfortunately it was more than true.

He wasn’t grateful for the case, a young woman was dead, but the call had yanked him back to consciousness. The only positive so far. The nightmares were always more intense after his Friday sessions at the VA, but he still refused to take the prazosin. Dr. Simmons didn’t need to know that.

In less than twenty minutes Sanders stood at the door with a handful of paper.

Already? Ryan joined him and they took a seat at the table.

I write training manuals, Sander shrugged. You explain everything in words of one syllable and assume the reader is only fluent in kindergarten prose.

Ryan chuckled and glanced down at the neat handwriting. Go ahead, sign and date it in my presence, then I’ll ask you some questions.

Sure. Sanders signed his name, dated it and Ryan did the same, then turned the pages over.

I’ll read this later. Let’s talk for a minute. When did you spot her body? He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and picked up the pen lying on the table.

It wasn’t her body. I mean, she was standing by her car and then she collapsed.

Did she seem inebriated?

No. I noticed her, wondered what she was doing alone in the parking lot that time of night.

You’re sure she was alone?

I didn’t see anyone else. It looked like she started to turn, then she dropped. I didn’t hear a shot or see anything. Was it a heart attack?

It hasn’t been determined.

Oh, of course not. She looks so young.

Could someone have been down behind the car, where you couldn’t see?

No sir. There were no vehicles to the left of hers. I had a full view. She was leaning against the driver’s side back door. I thought maybe she’d come out to the car to get something she forgot or, I don’t know. Anyway she was dressed, casual. You saw her, jeans, not in those pajamas pants the kids wear.

Did you approach her?

Yeah, I ran over right away when I saw her go down. I had my cell phone and dialed 911 immediately. The woman on the line walked me through the CPR. I had some training years ago, when the kids were little, but . . . I hope I didn’t mess it up.

Ryan looked up. You tried to help, and you called for an ambulance. Don’t beat yourself up. Sometimes nothing can be done. Why can’t I remember that in my own life?

Thanks.

Okay, that’s all the questions I have for now. I may be calling you. Ryan said, flipping the little notebook closed. If you think of anything else, please give me a call. He handed a card to Sanders. I’ll take you back to the hotel.

I’m not gonna even try to sleep. If I think of anything . . . I hope you find out what happened.

Ryan nodded and shook the man’s hand, then headed back out to the car.

Chapter Two

Gail Duncan woke with a start. Had something happened? What had awakened her? A noise, a movement? She heard nothing. Why was it so dark? Were her eyes open? After a moment she gingerly sat up, her hand out in front of her face. Where was she? This obviously wasn’t her apartment. Yes, her eyes were open for all the good it did. She couldn’t hear anything at all. She sat there, unmoving, trying to pick up any clue. Did it have to be silent too?

She hadn’t been anywhere this dark since that ride in Disney World—what was it—Stitch’s Great Escape? But she’d ridden it before they’d wimped out and made it a kiddie ride. She wasn’t there now. Deciding anger would serve better than fear, she focused on anger. Just where the fuck was she?

Nothing moved in the dark. Yes, she was totally creeped out. Damnit, she wasn’t going to stay here, wherever here was. Carefully feeling for the edge of whatever she sat on—metal? —she eased herself down. Good, a floor. Letting her fingers trace their way to an edge, she found a space where she could walk. There was another metal thing, table or tray maybe, beside hers and she sidled out from between them.

Holding her hands out in front of her, she shuffled forward, well, in the direction she faced anyway. Too unnerving, so she decided to let one hand trail along the metal trays. There were several of them. They all seemed the same width, then abruptly they stopped and . . . nothing. Shit!

She hadn’t run into a wall, yet. Continuing slowly, she shuffled forward until her hand felt more metal in front of her. She explored, her hands finding the edge. A door? Yes! A handle. It damn well better not be locked.

If this was some absurd practical joke, someone would be spitting out teeth. She was not scared. She was pissed off to the nth degree.

And maybe a little scared.

To her relief the door opened outward, and she stepped into a dimly lit room. At least it wasn’t black dark anymore. There were the regular all-night-lights in here—a green LED clock on some machine, red lights on the power strips. It felt bright enough to read after the previous room. It looked like some sort of surgical suite.

But she still had no idea where she was or why. She stopped and took a sniff, alcohol? Not the fun kind, rubbing alcohol or something similar. So this was a hospital? Was this a surgical suite?

How the hell had she gotten here? Why couldn’t she remember? Had she gotten drunk? That wasn’t like her. Drugged? No way. But she had to admit, wherever she’d ended up, it hadn’t been of her own volition.

Muted light came from a door on the opposite side of the room. The pebbled glass in the door displayed a sign or something across the glass on the outside.

She glanced back toward the door she’d exited to enter this room and stopped dead still. The big metal door was bolted—on this side. It was a vault door with a heavy-duty lever-like handle. If it wasn’t a vault, it was one damn big walk-in refrigerator. Well, that was obviously not the door she had come through. She had gotten turned around and there had to be another one. She pivoted slowly taking in the entire room.

There were two doors, the bolted metal door behind her and the one with the pebbled glass in front of her. Was she still asleep? Yeah, that was it, she had to be. It was the only way to make sense of this.

So, did she continue on or sit down and wait to wake up? Screw it, she didn’t want to be in here awake or asleep, so she pinched herself as she moved toward the door that promised more light.

Oww! That hurt.

She looked at her arm, but didn’t see a mark. Shouldn’t that wake her up? Fuck this, she wrapped her bravado around herself and pulled the door open, this one also opened into the room and didn’t appear to be locked in any way. She stepped out into a wide corridor.

Muted light filled the hall, better than the room she’d come from and tons better than the first room. She looked at the door to check the sign as it swung shut toward her.

Morgue.

She froze, terror sliding up her spine, an icy eel moving toward her brain shoving the anger aside. Morgue? She touched the sign knowing in her heart it would change when contact was made. That’s how dreams worked. Her vision seemed to be enhanced as she took in the layers of plastic forming the word. Black with white cut out to form the letters giving it the texture her fingers now explored. It didn’t change.

Someone had drugged her and put her in the fucking morgue? No, she didn’t know anyone that cruel, not any more.

Where was everyone? In a hospital, people should be around all the time. She would report this and someone would to be arrested. Hell yes, she’d press charges. She forced herself to step away. Breaking connection with the sign seemed to give her some slight courage. No, she could not allow herself to be intimidated like this. Never again.

Gail stalked up the hall toward the elevator sign. More courage returning as she distanced herself from the room. What hospital was she in? Where the hell was security?

The elevator responded to her call with an empty car and she stepped inside. Where was everyone?

The elevator stopped on the first floor and she stepped out into the lobby. As she’d begun to suspect, it was dark outside, night, normal dark and the visitor’s desk was not manned. She looked above the small desk area and read the sign.

Aurora Memorial Hospital.

No. No no no! She backed away from the desk. Get a grip, think.

Aurora? She was back in friggin’ Aurora? She hadn’t been there in ten years, maybe a little more. Why was she here now? The location alone would have ramped this up to full nightmare if the morgue hadn’t already. She had to get out of here. She wanted to go home!

She finally heard the sound of footsteps approaching her. In relief she turned to see an older African-American man come around the corner. He glanced at the closing doors of the elevator, but kept walking, ignoring her entirely.

Uh, excuse me, she called as he continued on. Hey! Did you hear me?

He was gone. He hadn’t even turned around.