Haunted by Heather Graham

ghosts.”
    She hesitated. She didn’t really need to be having this conversation with a skeptic; she was looking for Matt Stone. But they were indeed in a small town. And Adam had suggested that she do her best to get along with the locals. In such a place, they were usually full of information, and could be very helpful. She shrugged. Adam wanted it; she could try to be social.
    â€œSome ghosts are actually a part of history, and it’s the history that creates the legends that make them so fascinating to people. Some home owners and even corporations—especially those with places as significant as Melody House—want to have a resident ghost rapping on walls now and then to attract their clientele. Watch television, and you’ll know that there’s a huge population out there interested in being frightened. What we do is find out first if there actually is any inexplicable phenomena—or if someone is merely playing games. If there is something beyond the ordinary, we find out why, and deal with it from that point,” Darcy said, staring at the man, and returning all the attitude she was being given. Adam Harrison had already spoken with Matt Stone, and apparently, done so with enough dignity that he had agreed to the meeting. Actually, Stone had called Adam, after receiving his letter. And whether or not Stone wanted his property turned into a national center for the occult, he apparently could usethe exorbitant fee that Adam had been willing to pay for his team to investigate the stories circulating about the house. She knew historic mansions were incredibly hard to maintain. Especially when they were being held privately. She was suddenly angry with herself for having been intimidated by the good old boys in the bar. Hell. She’d spent enough years in a very similar environment, and that should have prepared her to deal with any form of male that pretended to walk on two feet. She had also dealt with her fair share of total, mocking skeptics. Usually, no manner of behavior bothered her. She had her beliefs, and everyone else in the world was welcome to their own. People who really wanted help usually came and asked for it.
    She’d been social enough, she decided.
    â€œExcuse me, gentlemen, but my employer has already been in contact with Mr. Stone, and apparently, he is willing to allow us into Melody House. I’ll make arrangements to meet him at a later date.”
    â€œI know you,” Dimple-face said suddenly. He offered her his lazy smile once again. “I could swear I’ve seen your face before.”
    Darcy hesitated. All she needed to do was tell this pack that she’d been a model for a cosmetics company for several years during and right after college and they’d never take her seriously. But then again, what the hell did she care? Her business was with Stone.
    â€œI’m sure we’ve never met,” she murmured politely. “Thank you for your time. And excuse me.”
    â€œâ€™Original Sin’!” Dimple-face said triumphantly. He grinned sheepishly. “I wound up buying the men’s aftershave. Your face has been on billboards all over the country.”
    Even in Hicksville? she was tempted to say, and then she was angry with herself, because she’d never felt that way about anything or anyone, her parents being really wonderful people who had taught her continually that people were people, didn’tmatter where they came from, and everyone in any corner of the country or even on the earth deserved an open mind and respect.
    â€œSo…you’re a model.”
    Chisel-face’s statement might as well have been, So you’re a dumb blonde with boobs . Except that she was more of a redhead and certainly not overly-stacked.
    â€œI worked for Original Sins cosmetics, yes,” she said, again forcing her tone to be even. “I also have graduate degrees in American history and sociology from