and plucked the receiver off the wall phone.
“Yes?”
The voice on the other end of the line belonged to a ghost, and as was the case with specters, it brought a warning. A body that had been safely buried had come out of the grave and wanted revenge. Raina forced herself to listen carefully.
“I understand,” she said.
The ghost hung up.
A wave of panic slammed through Raina.
Unthinking, driven by force of habit—secretarial training ran deep—she made a note on the small pad of paper that hung on the wall beside the phone. She certainly didn’t need the reminder. The ghost’s instructions were seared into her consciousness. But seeing the words written down made her realize she was not in the middle of an old nightmare. She was wide awake, and this was real.
She took a deep breath and fought back the wave of terror that threatened to choke her. She would not run, not this time. But one thing was blazingly clear. She could not put everyone she cared about in Burning Cove in danger. This threat came from her past. She would deal with it.
She collected her nerves and forced herself to think. When she felt she had the bare bones of a plan, she went upstairs to pack.
She started with the necessities—her pistol and an extra box of ammunition.
Chapter 6
Raina walked through the front door of the office dressed in stylish trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of lace-up sport shoes. Her hair was covered in a triangle silk scarf knotted under her chin. It was the sort of scarf a woman used when she went for a drive with the top down.
Lyra, seated at her desk, her aching head propped in her hands, struggled to hide her astonishment. Raina always came to work in fashionable, crisply tailored business suits and heels.
“Good morning,” Lyra said, trying to sound somewhat normal. “Coffee? I just made a pot.”
She was on her third cup that morning—the first two had been consumed at her kitchen table an hour ago. The caffeine combined with a hearty dose of aspirin was just starting to take the edge off the headache that had awakened her at dawn. She had not dared to risk breakfast. On the way to the office she had made a mental note to go easy on the champagne the next time she barely avoided getting murdered.
Raina appeared both startled and relieved to see her. “No coffee, thanks. I had a couple of cups at breakfast. So, you decided to come into the office today?”
“Of course.”
The fact that she had been seriously contemplating handing in her resignation was another matter entirely. She had not yet made the decision, which meant that, for the moment, she was a dedicated employee of Kirk Investigations.
Raina glanced at the elegant Bakelite pen tray, the green leather blotter, and the other stylish desk accessories that Lyra had purchased for her position as an apprentice investigator.
“I hope you didn’t come in just to pack up your things,” Raina said.
“Not unless you’re letting me go.” Lyra used one finger to nudge the copy of the Burning Cove Herald on her desk. “I suppose you’ve seen the morning headlines?”
“Yes. Read the paper at breakfast. We’re fortunate that Irene Ward covered the story. She’s an excellent journalist. Got the facts right. She even managed to put in a nice mention of Kirk Investigations.”
“Why did you think I might not show up today, Raina?”
“I told you to think seriously about whether you really wanted to be an investigator. I was afraid you would decide this line of work wasn’t for you.”
Lyra cleared her throat. “I admit there are some aspects of the job that I did not anticipate.”
“That’s true of all careers, isn’t it?” Raina said. She went briskly toward her desk. “I certainly ran into a few surprises in my previous position at a law firm.”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“No. I was a secretary.” Raina opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper. “I’m very glad you’ve decided to remain on the job, because I need you to take charge of Kirk Investigations while I’m out of town.”
“You’re going away?”
“I have been asked to do a favor for an old . . . acquaintance. It’s a very urgent, very personal matter.”
“I understand,” Lyra said.
She didn’t understand—not at all. Something was wrong. The little frissons on the back of her neck warned her that whatever was going on, it was anything but normal. Her curiosity was stirring in spite of the headache. It