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Back to Haunt You by Kate Hill
Available from Cerridwen PressBlurb:
Wistford seems like a typical small New England town. Quiet. Safe. Picturesque.
Now evil has come to Wistford. Circumstantial evidence from several violent crimes points to those involved with a new psychic institution. Jerahmy, a multi-gifted parapsychologist, Devlin, a psychic vampire, and Victor, a medium, fall under the scrutiny of the local police and only three psychic women from the Bianchi Family believe they are innocent. If their trust is misplaced, they could become the next victims.
Excerpt:
Prologue
September, 2000Moonlight cast eerie shadows on the three distinctive figures sweeping through the double doors of the colonial mansion's front entrance.
Jerahmy Ward, the eldest of the group, tall with pale green eyes, walked two paces ahead of the others. Long black hair, accented with white wings at his temples, draped broad shoulders covered with a black wool coat. The impeccable black shirt and trousers beneath created a startling contrast to his pale, beardless face. If not for Jerahmy's wealth, the realtor would have ended their working relationship months ago. The idea of midnight showings both annoyed and frightened him, but the commission he stood to gain from the sale of such a house as Mr. Ward demanded would be nearly enough to ensure an early retirement.
To Jerahmy's right, a shorter, though no less imposing, man glanced down his nose at his elegant surroundings as if unimpressed by the size and beauty of the mansion. His pale blond hair was bound tightly at his nape. The blue silk shirt tucked into black pants matched the color of his slanted eyes. Introduced earlier as Devlin Carnell, the blond was a new addition to Mr. Ward's strange party.
The most outwardly normal of the three, Victor Snow, flanked Jerahmy's other side. Young, surely no older than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, he towered over his companions by more than a head. Ash brown hair, with an obvious wave in spite of its shortness, framed his ruggedly handsome face. Midnight blue eyes swept the foyer and lingered on the winding staircase leading to the second floor. In spite of Victor's normal appearance, the realtor knew he was as weird as Jerahmy Ward himself. The man believed he could sense ghosts and had been consulted by Jerahmy as to the haunting factor in every house they had visited over the past six months.
Clearing his throat and trying not to appear as anxious as he felt, the realtor said, "As you requested, the house has over nine thousand square feet of living space, not including the basement and attic. It also has the guest house you wanted."
Ignoring the realtor, Jerahmy tossed Victor a sidelong glance. "Don't get too attached to them, Victor."
"The. . .them?" the realtor stammered. "Surely you don't think this place is haunted?"
Victor grinned at Jerahmy. "As long as you don't paint it black."
"To fit his mood?" Devlin arched an eyebrow.
Thoroughly confused by a conversation that seemed to spring out of the blue, the realtor continued up the stairs. If he didn't know better, he might think the men communicated telepathically.
"If you gentlemen will come with me, I'll show you the rest of the house."
The trio followed him, speaking only of technical issues. How was the roof? Did the basement flood? Devlin seemed to be an authority on just about everything from plumbing to building materials.
"Are you in construction, Mr. Carnell?"
"I'm an architect," came the snapping reply from the attic, where the blond seemed to be visually taking apart the very fabric of the house.
Several hours later, after a thorough examination of the mansion and the guest house behind it, the four men stood in the large kitchen.
"Well?" Jerahmy's penetrating gaze switched from Devlin to Victor.
"The place looks solid," Devlin stated, folding his arms across his chest.
"And clean," Victor added.
Clean. Meaning the mental case confirmed that no ghosts were present. The realtor's heartbeat quickened. Yes, yes, yes. Early retirement!
"You're certain there is nothing in this house?" Jerahmy held Victor's gaze.
"No, but the guest house--"
"I don't care about the guest house. Any problems there can be dealt with later."
"So, you're interested?" the realtor asked.
"Yes. Make the arrangements."
"Excellent. I'll speak with the owners and call you tomorrow."
The bizarre trio swept out of the house, followed by the realtor, whose hands trembled with excitement as he locked the doors. Tonight was definite cause for celebration.
"Mr. Douglas."
The realtor turned to Jerahmy, who had paused before stepping into his car. "Yes, Mr. Ward?"
"Enjoy your early retirement."
The realtor's smile faded and a shiver rippled down his spine. How in the world had he known about that?
With a slight smirk on his lips, Jerahmy stepped into the car.
Carrying Wistford's three strange new residents, the sleek black vehicle glided out of the driveway.
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