The Haunted Air Read Online Free

dark it seemed to squat on its double-size lot like some huge, glowering toad edging hungrily toward the sidewalk. He could imagine a snakelike tongue uncoiling through the front door and snagging some unwary passerby.
    â€œDefinitely creepy looking,” Gia said. “Probably by design.”
    â€œDon’t go in there,” said an accented voice from his left.
    Jack turned and saw a slim, dark Indian woman in a royal blue sari, strolling her way along the sidewalk, being led by a big German shepherd on a leash.
    â€œExcuse me?” Jack said.
    â€œVery bad place,” the woman said, closer now. Her dark hair was knitted into a long thick braid that trailed over her right shoulder; a fine golden ring pierced her right nostril. “Bad past. Worse future. Stay away.” She didn’t slow her pace as she came abreast of them. Her black eyes flashed at Jack—“Stay away”—then at Gia—“especially you.”
    Then she walked on. The dog looked back over his shoulder, but the woman did not.
    â€œNow that’s creepy,” Gia said as an uncertain smile wavered across her lips.
    Jack had always believed that in confronting a fear and facing it down, you weakened it. Recent events had given him second thoughts about the wisdom of that belief. And with Gia along …
    â€œMaybe we should listen to her.”
    Gia laughed. “Oh, come on! She probably works for this guy; he sends her out to get us in the mood. Or maybe she’s just a local wacko. You’re not taking her seriously, are you?”
    Jack looked after the retreating saried figure, now barely visible in the shadows. After what he’d been through lately,
he was taking a lot more things seriously, things he’d laughed at before.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œOh, let’s go,” she said, tugging him up the front walk. “Junie’s been seeing him for a couple of months and nothing bad’s happened to her.”
    Jack put an arm around Gia’s back and together they approached the house. They joined the others on the front porch where Junie had been jabbing at the bell button with no results.
    She jabbed it again. “Where is he?”
    â€œMaybe he’s not home,” Jack said.
    â€œHe’s got to be! I can’t—”
    Just then the front door eased open a crack. Jack saw an eye and a sliver of dark cheek.
    â€œIfasen! It’s me! Junie! Thank God you’re here!”
    The door opened wider, revealing a tall, lean black man, maybe thirty. He wore a white T-shirt and gray slacks; his hair was woven into neat, tight dreads that brushed his wide shoulders. Ifasen reminded Jack of Lenny Kravitz in his dreadlock days.
    â€œMs. Moon,” he said with an unplaceable accent. “It’s late.”
    Jack hid a smile at the obvious statement. This guy was experienced. The normal response would be, What are you doing here at this hour? But if you’re supposed to be someone who knows all—or maybe not all, but a helluva lot more than ordinary people—you don’t ask questions. You make statements.
    But he wondered at the man’s expression when he’d opened the door. He’d looked … relieved. Who had he been expecting?
    â€œI know. And I know my appointment’s tomorrow, but I had to come.”
    â€œYou couldn’t wait,” he said, his tone calm, exuding confidence and assurance.
    â€œYes! Right! I need your help! I lost my good luck bracelet! You’ve got to find it for me!”

    As he considered her plea, his gaze roamed among Jack and Gia and the others on the porch.
    â€œI see you’ve brought company.”
    â€œI told them all about you and they’re dying to meet you. Can we come in? Please?”
    â€œVery well,” Ifasen said. He stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way. “But only for a few minutes. I have to be rested for my early clients