MacGowan's Ghost Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for the Novels of Cindy Miles

  Highland Knight

  “Spunky Abigail and typically gruff but warmhearted Ethan (and his rough and tumble kin) are sweetly entertaining.”—Publishers Weekly

  “When it comes to delivering charming, funny, and tender romances, Miles is at the head of the class. Not only are the primary characters wonderful; the secondary characters are engaging and bring depth to the story. This warmhearted book is guaranteed to leave you with a satisfied smile!”—Romantic Times (top pick, 4½ stars)

  “This is a book to fall in love with and to read over and over. Cindy Miles has written a surefire winner for . . . fans of Scottish heroes.”

  —Affaire de Coeur (reviewer’s pick, 5 stars)

  “Cindy Miles completely captivated me with Highland Knight. . . . I was glued to the story line and loved how the characters interacted with each other . . . downright sexy.”—Romance Junkies

  “An enjoyable ride, start to finish.”

  —The Romance Reader

  Into Thin Air

  “Another sweet paranormal featuring a sparkling lead couple and a supporting cast of ghostly charmers . . . this adorable, otherworldly romp is sure to leave readers feeling warm and fuzzy.”—Publishers Weekly

  “Filled with humor, romance, mystery, and a lot of ghosts, Into Thin Air is a book that is hard to put down.”—Romance Junkies

  Spirited Away

  “Absolutely delightful! Cindy Miles outshines the genre’s best, writing with a charm and verve sure to captivate readers’ hearts. Spirited Away is pure magic.”

  —Sue-Ellen Welfonder, USA Today bestselling author

  “A sparkling debut, reminiscent of favorites like The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.”

  —Julie Kenner, USA Today bestselling author

  “This charming paranormal debut heralds an exciting new voice in the genre. Warm, humorous, fun-filled, magical, and spiced with deadly danger, this ghost story has it all.”—Romantic Times (4½ stars)

  “Cindy Miles’s love for the genre shines through in her endearing, quirky heroines and her larger-than-life heroes. As a reader, I was Spirited Away by the magic in each and every word.”

  —Jolie Mathis, author of The Sea King

  “This is the most charming story I have come across in some time. It has such a wonderful plot, characters, setting, and dialogue; I eagerly await the next book.”

  —Romance Readers at Heart

  “A charming tale that mixes best what readers enjoy in medieval fantasy and contemporary romance. The less common ghostly theme will appeal to paranormal fans looking for variety, and the quirky, lovable characters will leave readers wanting to revisit the knights of Dreadmoor Castle.”—Booklist

  “An energetic, amusing ghostly romance starring a likable, intelligent mortal and a somewhat frustrated ghost.”—Midwest Book Review

  ALSO BY CINDY MILES

  Highland Knight

  Into Thin Air

  Spirited Away

  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, February 2009

  Copyright © Cindy Homberger, 2009

  eISBN : 978-1-440-68753-2

  All rights reserved

  SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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  For Brian, because we made it.

  I love you.

  And for Kim, Betsy, Molly, and Rita-Marie,

  for all the reading and encouragement for

  MacGowan’s Ghost.

  This one’s for you.

  Prologue

  Odin’s Thumb Inn and Pub

  Northwest coast, Scotland

  October, midnightish

  “Hurry, before Himself returns!” Friar Digby whispered, glancing about the dimmed room. “Make haste!”

  “Well, move your robe-garbed arse over, then, so I can see!” Captain Catesby elbowed in next to the friar and squinted at the computer screen. His eyes widened. “Damn me, but she’s fetchin’.”

  Three more souls sifted into the small stone-walled office and hovered behind the captain. Mademoiselle Bedeau gasped. The two fatal duelers, Christopher and Baden—both English—followed with like noises.

  Friar Digby sniffed and lowered his voice still more. “I daresay the very last thing to be concerned a
bout is her beauty, sir.”

  “Aye, although she is a lovely maid,” said Christopher. He cocked his head and stared even harder. “Think you she will try to oust us from our home?”

  Captain Catesby stared at the smiling face on the screen. “Nay. She willna.”

  Mademoiselle Bedeau sighed. “How can you know that, sir?”

  A slow smile pulled at the captain’s mouth. “I can see it in her eyes, lass. This one’s a wily lamb, but no’ a threat to us.” He rose and grinned at his fellow ghosts. “I have a feeling Himself will get far more than he bargains for with this gel, truth be told.”

  The heavy tread of boots in the corridor made all of their heads snap up.

  “Himself returns!” said the friar under his breath. He shooed the duelers, frantic. “Quick, begone! But just inside the wall, there, so we can listen whilst he makes the call to the lady.”

  The spirits scrambled and hastily seeped into the stone. With a much-stifled chuckle and a shake of his head, Captain Catesby followed, and waited.

  Chapter 1

  Raleigh, North Carolina

  October, eveningish

  “Thank you so much, Ms. Morgan. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Mrs. Zolaster glanced around with unease. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you sure they’re gone?”

  Mr. Zolaster, a middle-aged man with a strip of brown hair encircling his crown, shifted his gaze from one side of the living room to the other. By the pinched expression, he didn’t look very convinced.

  Allie slid a glance over the heads of both Zolasters and straight into the naughty, smiling, and nearly transparent faces of three youthful spirits.

  One of them winked and waggled his brows.

  Allie ignored the playful gesture and met the expectant gazes of the Zolasters. “They won’t be causing you any more trouble.” She smiled. “I promise.”

  Relief washed over both of their faces, and Mrs. Zolaster held out her hand. “I can’t thank you enough. Now, if I can show you out?”

  Allie thought the woman was more than happy to see the last of her, too. “Absolutely.” She stepped through the door of the Zolasters’ 150-year-old brick manor house and into Raleigh’s crisp night air. No sooner had she made it to the end of the drive than the three young ghosts materialized beside her. Three teenaged brothers who, on a warm July day in 1861, fell to their deaths at the First Manassas.

  They’d made their way home. Eventually.

  But without the first memory of what had happened.

  “Aw, Allie, come on. Don’t leave,” one brother said in a North Carolina drawl.

  “Yeah, the Zolasters seem nice and all, but they ain’t no fun,” the other said.

  “Not fun like you,” the third and eldest offered. “Please?”

  Allie stopped and looked each brother in the eye. She sighed, then smiled. “Listen, guys. Now that you know how, where, and when you died, you’re free. I found your family’s history, you know what happened to your parents and the the rest of your siblings, and you’re no longer forced to haunt the halls of your old homestead.” She waved her arms. “Go out, explore, have a little fun.” She narrowed her eyes. “But not too much fun. And please, leave the Zolasters alone. I promised them, you know.”

  The three brothers grinned.

  One scratched his forehead. “Can we come visit you sometime?”

  Allie studied the three boys. All wearing drab gray uniforms of the Confederacy, their ghostly eyes revealed nothing more than hope. She gave them a wide smile. “I’d be upset if you didn’t. Now stay out of trouble.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” they all three hollered at once.

  Then they disappeared.

  Allie shook her head, made it to her trusty old Wrangler, climbed in, and started for home. A half hour later, she pulled into the Waterloo Apartments complex, growled when she saw a visitor had parked in her spot, found another, and climbed to the fifth floor. She pushed her key into the lock and let herself in to her one-bedroom corner abode.

  And immediately met the ghostly stare of her long-time friend.

  “Well, I see by the satisfied look on your lovely face that you have completed yet another successful de-haunting.” He gave a curt nod. “Congratulations once again, love. How go the lads, then? Are they content?”

  Dead for more than a hundred years, Alexander Dauber made himself quite at home in Allie’s presence.

  She loved that about him. “Yes, they’re content. Mischievous, but content.”

  “Excellent. Now that you’ve finished another case for the eve, why not consider wandering down to that rather lively establishment on the corner, hmm?” Dauber said. “ ’Twould do your soul good to mingle with—”

  “The living?” Allie interrupted. “Come on, Daubs, we’ve had this discussion at least a hundred times. I don’t want to mingle.” She glared at the tall, lanky, somewhat bony Irishman clothed in a soft hat, suspenders, and black wool trousers that hung just a bit too high over ankle-high boots. He was one of the very first spirited souls she’d ever encountered. “I’m not a mingler.” She grabbed her dinner dishes, which she’d left on the table, crossed the tiny kitchen, and loaded them into the dishwasher.

  “Young lady, I happen to know you have a most cheery personality that any mortal with half a wit would enjoy to the fullest, if given a chance.” Dauber grinned, the corners of his mouth pulling far into his cheeks. “I’m sure of it.”

  Allie crossed her arms and leaned against the sink. She stared at Dauber until his face turned a bright tomato red. She chuckled. “I am completely content doing what I’m doing, Daubs. Honestly, you sound like my mom and sisters. I don’t need to hang out at the bar in hopes of meeting someone.” She shrugged. “That’s just not my style.”

  He quirked a reddish brow.

  Hitching up her jeans, she walked to the part of the kitchen she referred to as her office, opened the one spare drawer, and pulled out a handful of papers. She held them up and shook them at Dauber. “See? All new cases. I have so much work to keep me busy I don’t have time for mingling.” She narrowed her eyes. “Even if I were a mingler.”

  Dauber made a tsk-tsking noise under his breath. “I daresay, young lady, that is the poorest of excuses.” He peered at her. “You need a nice holiday, methinks. You’re looking a bit peaked. Didn’t your sister invite you for a bit of frolicking in merry old England?”

  Allie frowned, but before she could respond, her laptop made a tinkling bell sound, announcing incoming mail. She raised her brow at Dauber. “See? Another inquiry.” She sat cross-legged in the straight-backed chair and clicked the mouse over her in-box. She blinked.

  “What is it, love?” Dauber asked.

  Allie stared at the screen. “My first international inquiry.” She continued to read. “Gabe MacGowan apparently has a few naughty spirits disturbing his pub and inn.”

  Before she could read further, the phone rang, and Allie picked up the cordless. “Morgan Investigations.”

  A deep, graveled, somewhat unsure voice came over the line. “Er, Allison Morgan?”

  “Yes. Can I help you?” Allie glanced at Dauber and shrugged.

  “Right. I’m Gabe MacGowan. I, uh, sent a post to your e-mail.”

  Allie smiled. Nice accent. “That’s right. Scotland. I just received it, actually. So what sort of disturbances have you been experiencing, Mr. MacGowan?”

  The line went silent for a moment, then, “Eh, well, I’ve had these, um . . .” He cleared his throat and muttered something unintelligible, then, “Oy, damn. I’m sorry for wastin’ your time.”

  “Wait, you’re not—”

  After a muttered something in a strange language, the line went dead.

  “Another disbeliever, miss?” Dauber asked.

  Allie set the cordless on the counter beside her laptop. “He’ll call back.”

  Dauber gave a winsome smile. “They always do.”

  Exactly eight minutes passed before the phone c
hirped.

  With a quick peek at the caller ID, Allie smiled and answered the cordless. “Hello again, Scotland.”

  “I can’t sell my bloody pub and inn because the lot of spooks living here run off every potential buyer who shows interest. They’re drivin’ me bloody crazy.” A pause. “Can you help me?” Another pause, followed by another unknown word. “I’ll pay your airfare, your room and board, and your fee once I sell.”

  Allie glanced at the stack of pending inquiries for her services. Twelve cases in all. Twelve irate and fed-up humans trying to exorcise spirits from their homes or businesses. Not all of the claims were legit, but Allie’s services included a thorough investigation. Not that she ever performed the first exorcism. While the mortals were the ones doing the hiring of her services, she actually used her skills of communicating with the dead to help the ghosts. She simply interpreted, helped the unsettled soul or souls with whatever issues they might have, find out just what made them haunt.

  But pass up the chance to go to Scotland? Even with twelve cases pending, who in their right mind would do that?

  “Ms. Morgan?”

  Snapping out of her thoughts, Allie glanced at Dauber, who lifted a brow, and then she cleared her throat. “Yes, Mr. MacGowan. I’m sure I can help you. But first, I need you to send me the link to your pub and inn. You have a Web site, don’t you?”

  “Aye.”

  “Great. Just e-mail me the link, and I’ll be in touch.”

  Mr. MacGowan sat silent on the line for a moment, then, “Your Web site describes you as a paranormal investigator. Does that mean you oust unwanted spirits, Ms. Morgan?”

  Allie thought a moment. “I communicate with unsettled souls, Mr. MacGowan. It’s been my experience that they haunt for a reason, and usually it’s a reason even they aren’t fully aware of, and I try to find out why. Haunting is all the control they have left in a mortal’s world. I work with them to resolve whatever unsettled matters they may have. More times than not, their souls become mended and they move on.”

  Again, momentary silence. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you, then.”