Free Haunted by Heather Graham Page A

that it’s Stone.”
    â€œWe’ll see. I’ll give you a call back.”
    â€œActually, you don’t need to,” he said, and hung up. Again, Darcy stared at her cell phone, shook her head, and forced herself to pick up the hotel line.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œMs. Tremayne, it’s Matt Stone.”
    She was silent, waiting. Adam had been right.
    Of course.
    Apparently, Matt Stone could be stubborn, too. The silence stretched on.
    â€œYes?” she said again. She could almost see his teeth grate in the steel cage of his face.
    â€œAs you’re aware, I own Melody House. I don’t actually live in the main house all the time, though I stay now and then. However, I have a woman who manages the upkeep and the tours we allow through, and the events which are held there upon occasion. Her name is Penny Sawyer, and I’ll put you in contact with her. She’s incredibly anxious to have you and your company in.”
    â€œBut you’re not.”
    â€œI did talk to Adam Harrison,” he said, not agreeing or disagreeing. “The house holds incredible historical importance,” he said flatly.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œLook, Penny is supposed to handle everything. And she’s great with the place, knows all about it, and can help you with whatever you need. When you’ve got your plans down all pat,I’ll be back in on it, though. It’s still my place. And I want final approval on what you do.”
    â€œNaturally,” Darcy said. She knew that it sounded as if her words were a flat fuck you, guess I’ve got no choice .
    â€œPenny has suggested that you move on over to the house now.”
    â€œOh, that’s not necessary—”
    â€œYou need to be in the house to investigate it, right?”
    â€œI just meant that there was probably no need for that kind of hurry.”
    â€œPenny wants you there as soon as possible. She’s very eager to have you. Also, her office is in the house. We have all kinds of documents there, so…you could get started.”
    Darcy looked around her hotel room. It was stretching it to even call the place a hotel. She didn’t flinch at the sight of bugs, but she had gagged over the film of them she’d had to clean out of the bathtub before managing a quick shower.
    Maybe Matt Stone was something of a psychic himself. His next words suggested that he had read her mind.
    â€œMs. Tremayne, I’m familiar with the hotel.”
    â€œFine. I might as well get started. You’re right.”
    â€œI’ll be there for you in thirty minutes.”
    She opened her mouth to protest. She could have used a little more time just to survey the area before entering the house.
    Too late. He’d hung up.
    Swearing, she did the same. She looked around the small room. Not much to pick up—she’d been too afraid of getting creepy-crawly things in her lingerie to unpack much. She fished her few personal articles from the bathroom and folded the few pieces of clothing she’d had out in less than ten minutes.
    Which turned out to be good. Matt Stone’s concept of time was not at all precise. She had barely made a quick run-through to assure herself she hadn’t forgotten anything when there was a knock at her door.
    She opened it. He stood there, sunglasses in place, a lock of his dark hair windblown and sprawling over his forehead. In her business heels, she was just a shade under six feet. He still seemed to tower. She didn’t like the disadvantage, even if height didn’t really mean a damned thing.
    â€œReady, Ms. Tremayne?”
    She took a breath, forcing something of a grimace rather than a smile. “Mr. Stone, somehow you manage to drawl out a simple Ms. as if it were a word composed of one long z , and a filthy one at that. My name is Darcy, and I’m accustomed to going by it.”
    He cocked his head slightly. She couldn’t read his eyes because of the