The Ninth Floor (29 page)

“This book is one I
did not want to stop reading as it always felt like I would miss something that
was going to happen soon.”

“If you’re into
creepy, hair-raising, unexplainable events in a home haunted by unseen forces,
you’ll enjoy this page turner.”

“This book was
awesome!!! Very detailed, suspenseful, and scary!! I like to read a good
thriller that isn’t gratuitous with violence, language, and gore. This one is
very entertaining and literally had me guessing through the entire book. I
couldn’t put it down!!”

Dark Passing (The
Ella Reynolds Series Book 2)

“I loved the suspense
and the pace of her books. Great author. I am looking forward to reading more
of her books in the future.”

“I love how the
author can keep me guessing till the end of the book on what is the actual
truth.”

“Instantly hooked
into the story. Never disappointing or boring. Surprises throughout the book.
Mystery, thriller, love, sacrifice, betrayal, AMAZING! That about sums it up.”

“A real page turner
that will keep you up at night. Highly recommended for everyone who loves the
thrill of the paranormal.”

Ella Reynolds
Series Book 1

A sticky, sweet smell veiled the
house, making it hard to breathe. I should have known immediately. After all,
how many times had I described it in my books? Yet it didn’t even occur to me
as possible. Never could I have imagined my fiction so brutally brought to
life. And so close to home.

The odor stuck
in my throat. I gagged. Fear caressed my skin with its clammy hands. In the pit
of my stomach I knew something was wrong, dead wrong. The intense certainty
propelled my feet forward despite my legs unwillingness to move. They felt
sluggish and uncooperative as I entered the only place left to look, the
kitchen. The odor grew stronger, burning the inside of my nose. Swallowing
several times to force the lump in my throat down, my mouth went dry. I
concentrated on not throwing up, instead of what I might find. I stretched my
hands out defensively. Time slowed. Every one of my senses assaulted by blood
and death, I froze in place. The cold, blank, dead eyes of my husband met mine.
Rocking back and forth, the room spinning, I couldn’t process the whole of what
I was seeing. All I could do was stare back into Danny’s eyes—eyes frozen open
in horror and pain. The floor smacked against my body as my knees gave way.

Everything
went black.

Chapter One

“Happy people” disdain filled me
as I glanced around the bar. Small groups of college students and regulars
chattered away unaware of my existence. I settled into my usual back corner
booth while Joe, the bartender, brought over a drink without me having to order
it.

I made
obligatory small talk with Joe before he returned to his post behind the bar.
As he resumed polishing glasses with a dirty bar towel, I inspected the all too
familiar little dive. Pictures were haphazardly spread over walls covered in
smoky grime from the years when the bar was less desolate. The few rickety
tables and chairs marred with juvenile graffiti in the center of the room had
seen better days. However, the laughing, smiling patrons occupied them without
noticing their feeble condition. An electronic dart board in the opposite
corner blinked and buzzed tiredly, giving a strobe effect to the dim room.

There was a
time I enjoyed this. I fidgeted with the coaster that was supposed to be under
my drink and wondered why I bothered coming here at all, but the thought made
it no further than a sigh on my lips. It was hard to believe that not so long
ago I would have fit in with the people around me, cheerily visiting and
drinking away the stress of their day. Though it seemed like little more than a
fairy tale, I remembered when we used to come here with a group very similar to
the ones I now scorned, a group of friends I called my own. Not anymore. Now
there was only one. Me.

“No dwelling,
Ella,” the practical, motivational voice I chose to ignore most days rang
through my thoughts. “Lingering there isn’t going to help anyone. Deal with it.”

But I was
dealing with it—the only way I knew how. Coping had become a full time job and
it left little energy for anything else.

The vodka
warmed as it trickled into my belly. I didn’t want to cope right now. My head
rested against the wall and I let my mind carry me away. It took me back to
when things were good, when the world was black and white and not so many
shades of gray. It never occurred to me then, that things could, or rather,
would, be different. I always assumed life would just work out. Bad things didn’t
happen to people like me; they happened to other people… people who deserved
it.

Was I one of
those people others saw as “asking for it”? Maybe, but I didn’t care. I no
longer tried to be friendly or socially acceptable. I no longer forced a smile
when I wanted to scowl. Most of the time I didn’t even respond to direct
questions since I couldn’t be certain what was real. It was safest to treat
everything as a figment of my imagination until proven otherwise.

But now some
poor bastard was making his way towards my table with a stupid lopsided grin on
his face, oblivious to the emotional black hole that was my life. I watched him
approach with a detached interest similar to that of a zoo animal watching the
hordes of people waving to it from the other side of the glass.

“Hello,” he
said, as if we had known each other for years. He sat across from me folding
his hands on the table.

I blinked
slowly, staring straight ahead as if he didn’t exist. The best defense was to
ignore everything around you so when you had to lash out you took them by
surprise. No indication that I had heard him or could even see him showed on my
face as I took another long drink, savoring the moment.

This stranger
remained unfazed by my reaction—or lack of one. He continued on as if I had
given him a warm, enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve seen you here before. You’re not
with anyone, are you? Can’t help, but wonder why.”

Good Lord, he
wasn’t here to mock me or find out the juicy gossip—he was hitting on me. I
sighed and fought a short battle in my mind about how to proceed. Should I make
an attempt at civility? Or should I ignore him until he left? I tried the
latter, drawing in another large gulp of straight vodka while staring at the
pictures and signs on the wall. However, this fellow had more determination
than I’d been able muster up in years. He didn’t speak any further just watched
me with a curious gaze that sent chills down my spine. The hairs stood on the
back of my neck; my posture stiffened.

“Look,” I
said, glancing his way, carefully avoiding his eyes, “I’m not here to meet
people. As flattering as it is, I want to be alone.”

“That’s too
bad. I want to meet you.”

Just who did
this man think he was? Was I not clear?

“Do I look
like I want to have a conversation?” I made eye contact for the first time,
clenching my jaw. I didn’t need this right now.

“Not at all,”
he said with a grin that others might have found charming. “But I have a way of
changing people’s minds. I’m a doctor. New to the area—”

I cut him off
before he could recite his whole resume. “I bet this normally works on
all
the girls,” I said with a roll of my eyes, “but I’m not one of them. I don’t
need your company or your conversation. Do us both a favor and leave.”

“As I said I’ve
seen you here before. And tonight’s the night I find out why a pretty girl like
you is sitting in the corner looking surly.”

Telling this
man to leave was as effective as talking to the glass of vodka in front of me.

My eyes closed
in response to his probing. Bitterness inched its claws into me. A flood of
angry emotions washed across my mind. I tried to let them ebb before I spoke
again. I just wanted to be left alone more than anything else… well, more than
almost
anything else.

“Was this a
bet? Can I help you win it? Whatever it takes to make you leave, just let me
know.” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t dignify my rant with a response. “Seriously,
buddy. I’m tired I don’t have the energy to deal with you.”

He inspected
me for a few moments longer. “Ok…” his voice trailed off, but he didn’t move
away.

I waited, but
still he made no attempt to leave. “You’re leaving?”

“No. I was
wondering why you’re so tired. Thinking out loud really.”

I looked in
his eyes. They were so caring and empathic I could throw up. Rather than
chucking ice cubes at him I decided to actually talk to him, perhaps a little
less dramatic, but hopefully still effective. After all, being bitchy only
encouraged further conversation and meaningful looks. Perhaps a small dose of
my life would be the coup de grace of this conversation. “What’s your name?”

“Ahhh, a
moment of civility, I’m honored,” he teased giving me a half bow. “My name is
Grant.”

“Grant?
That
figures,
” I said under my breath, then pushed on before he could comment. “Well,
Grant
, I’m tired because I have problems at home ... in a manner of
speaking. Problems that keep me awake most nights and this time, right now,” my
finger tapped against the tabletop, “that I have here alone is the only silver
lining in what would otherwise be an unbearable day. So let me ask you this,
why are you ruining it?”

“Husband?
Boyfriend?”

I rolled my
eyes again, as deliberately as possible. “If I say yes will I be less
interesting?”

“Roommate?”

“How much
longer do you expect me to answer your questions?”

Grant
continued to ignore my open hostility. “You have yet to answer any questions.
Love
a mysterious girl. What kind of problems at home?”

“Don’t you
think that’s a bit personal when you don’t even know my name?”

“Now
that
could be remedied very easily.”

I stalled by
taking another languid drink. “Frances, my name is Frances.”

“Frances?” His head tilted to the side. “You don’t look like a Frances.”

I shrugged.

“Well, it is
nice to meet you. Now, that wasn’t too hard was it?”

“You’d be
surprised.”

“Hey Ella, you
ready for another?” Joe interrupted, ruining my perfectly executed farce.

I nodded.

“Your name is
Ella
,
pretty—suits you much better.”

I gave him a
tight smile, annoyed that my lie failed so quickly. I couldn’t escape who I was
even for a few moments in a bar.

“Well, now
since I know your name and we’re friends, will you tell me all about your
problems?” He tried the charming smile again, but I remained unmoved.

Telling the
truth, however, was a provocative thought. Someone listening, maybe even
understanding, who wouldn’t want that? But the reality of the situation didn’t
escape me. He would run back to his friends with a new story about the raving
lunatic of Montgomery. “I didn’t tell you I live alone,” I said absently, “and
you wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

“Try me.”

“Ask around. I’m
sure any of these folks would be happy to tell you about the woman who killed
her husband. In a town this size, it’s a big story,” I said with a flippant
tone I didn’t feel.

“I’d rather
hear it from you.”

What was wrong
with this man? My words would have sent most people here running for the hills
with a story about their brush with death. “What kind of doctor are you?” I
asked, giving up. He didn’t have to leave if I didn’t have to talk about
myself.

“I do a little
bit of everything.”

“A general
practitioner?”

He nodded,
looking slightly amused which bothered me. It felt like he was laughing at me.
Once again the desire for him to leave took over. “Why are you here? You aren’t
exactly ugly; other girls in this bar would probably love to talk to you...
like that one over there.” I pointed vaguely towards a group of girls. “Why do
you have to pick on me? I’m literally the only one here who isn’t going to talk
to you.”

“I like a
challenging woman. Stop avoiding my questions.”

I didn’t
notice that someone else was approaching my table until she was standing in
front of it. The woman was blurry through the fog of cigarette smoke coming
from a nearby table. I found focusing on her easier if I only used one eye.
Slowly she became clear enough to recognize—and the night just got better.

“What is this,
harass Ella day, Susan?” I grumbled, mostly to myself though I made no attempt
to hide it from her.

“Joe thought
you might need a ride, El,” she said warily.

I stared at
her deciding whether or not I wanted to be difficult. “And you just dropped
everything to come and get me?”

Susan sighed. “Are
you ready to leave?”

“Whatever.” I
slid out of the booth. This wasn’t the first time the bartender called Susan to
come and get me, and in the end it was pointless to fight against it. If Joe
called Susan it was probably time for me to go home. Susan, Doug, Danny and I
used to be regulars until all the pieces of our happy foursome shattered around
us. I was the only one who still came and probably more often then I should.
Joe was the last person left in this town who was nice to me, but then again he
hardly spoke. I glanced back at Grant. “You are amazingly pushy.”

“I’ll see you
soon.” He said with a disturbing amount of self-confidence.

Mysteries

Dark Corners
(Ella Reynolds Series Book 1)