Chapter One
She doesn’t believe.
“Don’t you worry, love. I’ve got a plan.”
Shay O’Malley stepped out of the kitchen and looked around the living room. That was strange. She’d swear she’d heard a second voice, a male voice.
“Did you say something, Grammy?”
“Talking with O’Malley, dear. He’s quite proud of you. Your first week back in Camden Point and you’ve already landed a job.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Come sit and tell me about your first day.”
“Hang on.” Shay grabbed the two glasses of homemade peach tea from the counter and walked back into the living room. She looked to the seat next to her grandmother and then opted for the chair instead, hoping she’d chosen wisely. Not that she believed they had company, especially that of her dearly departed grandfather who had been gone for twenty-five years.
“Tell Granddad thanks.”
“He can hear you just fine.”
“Well, I can’t hear him.” Except for that once. Maybe. Probably just a dream.
“You could if you tried.” Her grandmother sipped from her tea, head cocked and attention elsewhere for a few moments. “Hmmph. Fine, I’ll drop the subject for now, but mark my words: gifts naturally given don’t like to be ignored forever.”
Shay reached out a hand and squeezed her grandmother’s. “Gram, I’d love nothing more than to be able to talk to Granddad daily like you do. Now, let’s talk about how much I love this place and my new job and how I’m so thankful you talked me into moving back.”
Living here she could keep an eye on Grammy while still allowing the too independent, nearly eighty-year-old woman to enjoy life. It gave her parents the freedom and peace of mind to focus on their upcoming retirements and to follow their dream of traveling around the country in their RV.
“Tell me about your new job. What age are the kids? Did you make any new friends?” Her gram’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Meet any hot, single dads?”
“Grammy! I’m shocked at you. What would O’Malley say?” Shay laughed.
Her grandmother swatted at her knees and cackled with laughter. “O’Malley has nothing to worry about and he knows it. I’m thinking of you, my dear. You’re too young to be spending all your time with an old lady.”
“I’ve been hired as the assistant director for the Osprey Inn Kids Camp, which means some administrative work. But mostly, I’ll be teaching the three to five-year olds, which is such a fun age. Any men I meet will most likely be married, Grammy. Besides, I like the company I keep.”
“You need friends your own age, to get out and have fun, not sit around here babysitting me.”
Knowing where the conversation was headed, Shay looked out the window instead and stared at the unmarked black panel van and matching SUV that had pulled up. No one exited either vehicle. What the heck? Had Homeland Security spotted something wonky on her grandmother’s browser history? One never knew with Siobhan Doyle O’Malley. The situation looked shady as all get out. Maybe she and Grammy had just found themselves in the middle of a government op?
Camden Point wasn’t that far from two Navy bases, so the thought wasn’t that strange. Still their little town on the shores of Connecticut had never had a high crime rate. Growing up they didn’t even lock their doors at night or when they left the house. Granted, she’d been gone for a few years, but Shay couldn’t imagine drug running or anything bad ever happening here.
She got up and pulled back the curtains.
“Grammy, are you expecting company?” She dropped the edge of the sheers to look over her shoulder. Her grandmother’s mouth scrunched up, and she gave a nod, but she wasn’t looking at Shay.
“Gram,” Shay prodded.
“Oh dear.” Her grandmother’s hands flew to her hair and she glanced down at the turquoise jogging clothes she still had on from her morning walk.
“What?”
“I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow. You’ll have to greet them while I fix my hair and put on my lips,” she called cheerfully with a wave as she hustled down the hall to her bedroom.
“Greet who?”
“The ghost hunters, dear.”
“Just shoot me now,” Shay whispered. “Grammy,” she called down the hall. “You promised no more and you know O’Malley never comes around when they’re here.”
She blamed this all on her brother Liam. He encouraged their grandmother’s obsession with the paranormal. While the rest of the family pretended to believe in Grammy’s ghost, the sharp lady knew they didn’t believe. Hence why Shay now had to deal with a bunch of loonies who either agreed with Grammy or, worse, were looking for a “donation” to exorcise the evil that resided in the house.
“I know, I know, but this group is different. And O’Malley’s promised to cooperate this time.”
“That’s what he always says.” Or rather, what you tell us, because no one else can see or hear him.
They’d been through this scenario countless times before, starting when she was a child all through her teens. For a while her Gram had backed off, much to her parents’ relief. Then it started again a few years back. Group after group. A few looking for an easy mark. Some legit, but a lot of them were no more than clueless wannabes fumbling around in the dark, terrified of their own shadows. And all brought in by her grandmother to prove that the love of her life was still with her.
Sure, they’d gotten a few K2 hits showing elevated electromagnetic readings, lots of orbs on camera—more likely a sign that they needed to keep the house cleaner—and a few whacked-out claims of demonic attachment.
Whatever. She’d dealt with their kind before and if this group thought they’d con one penny from her family, she’d send them packing faster than you could say, “boo.”
“Shay.” Grammy poked her head out into the hall. “Be nice, dear.”
“I’m always nice.” Well, mostly. A cool breeze from nowhere blew a rogue strand of hair across her face. “Okay, fine. Sometimes, but I’m only not nice when people deserve it,” she admitted under her breath.
Taking another peek out the front window, Shay saw three guys, each holding a case and two of them handling a giant plastic tote between them. They were in deep discussion. After a few moments she left the window and headed to her grandmother’s bedroom on the main floor.
“Grammy, you know you don’t have to do this.” She sat on the bed. “You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone and you sure don’t need a group of strangers to help you communicate with O’Malley’s spirit.”
“Uh-huh,” Gram responded from the master bath.
Maybe if Shay could get her to see reason, she could send the group away before they even crossed the threshold.
But it was too late. One of them knocked on the door. Gram shooed her out of the room as she continued to get spiffy, as she put it. Shay stood, dreading the next few hours. If her Gram didn’t have such a trusting heart, if she weren’t so vulnerable to their lies, Shay would leave. She’d use the excuse that she needed to move her meager belongings to her new place. But she couldn’t trust them alone with Grammy. She’d seen first-hand how some of these groups operated.
Open the door.
Shay looked around. There was that voice again. A man, but it was just Grammy and her inside. Clearly stress was catching up with her. She didn’t believe in ghosts.
Not anymore.
A second knock on the door had her feet moving forward.
Still… “Save the theatrics for the team, O’Malley,” she muttered.
Shay opened the door to find the three guys and a camera in her face. They weren’t wasting any time, but cameras rolling before they even said hello? Were they hoping O’Malley would appear to let them in?
Slowly the camera lowered.
“Shay?”
That face.
That voice.
Everything inside of her lit up like the night sky on the Fourth of July, until she remembered why she hadn’t seen him or heard from him in years and why they were standing on her grandmother’s front step.
“Oh hell no.”
Shay slammed the door shut and put her back against the cool wood.
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