Ghost Hunter Read Online Free PDF Page B

directions were each lined with an endless array of chambers, antechambers, and connecting passageways. Her quarry could be hiding anywhere.
    This wasn’t her job, she reminded herself. Let the cops handle it.
    Breathing heavily, she turned to trudge back toward the utility sled.
    Perhaps it was because her heart was still pounding from rage and her recent exertion, or maybe because she was now obsessed with getting back to the sled so that she could contact the police. Whatever the reason, she did not hear the faint shuffle of footsteps on quartz behind her until it was too late.
    She half turned, but the drug maker had already burst out of a nearby chamber. She caught a glimpse of the large chunk of green quartz that he clutched a fraction of an instant before the stone slammed against the side of her head.
    Pain flooded her senses. And then she was falling through waves of darkness.
    FOR A FEW SECONDS THE DRUG MAKER STOOD OVER THE fallen woman, heart pounding. Bertha Newell was still breathing.
    I should hit her again, just to be certain. But the thought of inflicting another blow made him queasy. There was already so much blood on the floor.
    It wasn’t his job to take care of this kind of problem, he reminded himself. He was the chemist, not hired muscle. He had been given a number to call in the event of an emergency such as this.
    Unfortunately, personal phones, like so many other high-tech devices such as guns, did not work properly down here in the catacombs. Something to do with the heavy psi energy that emanated from the green quartz.
    He would have to go back to the surface to place the call.
    He turned to make his way toward his secret hole-in-the-wall, but caution made him hesitate. He had a feeling that he should secure his victim in some fashion, just in case she recovered consciousness before security arrived. But he had nothing to use to tie her hands and feet.
    He hurried to the utility vehicle and pawed through the assortment of tools and survival gear stored in it. He saw nothing that would serve the purpose, and he dared not waste any more time.
    As a fallback measure, he jotted down the frequency of the sled’s amber-rez locator. If she did come back to her senses and managed to take off on the vehicle while he was aboveground, she wouldn’t get far. Security would be able to track her down.

Chapter 2
    A Few Hours Later in the Old Quarter of Cadence City . . .
    ELLY STOPPED AT THE LAST BOOTH AT THE BACK OF THE crowded, noisy tavern.
    Cooper sat alone, dining on a large sandwich, some greasy looking fries, and a bottle of Green Ruin beer.
    She was startled to see that he was dressed like the other hunters around him. It was, she reflected, the first time she had ever seen him in khaki and leather. One of the reasons she had fallen for him in the first place was that he had seemed so different from the other hunters she had known all her life.
    He wasn’t wearing his glasses or Guild seal ring, either, she noticed. He was, in fact, doing an excellent job of blending into the crowd. But then, Cooper had a knack for making you see what he wanted you to see. She could personally testify to that. Back at the beginning of the roller-coaster ride that had been their relationship, she had actually believed that he was a librarian.
    But even in khaki and leather, he still rezzed her senses in a way that no other man had ever been able to do.
    Her pulse was racing, but she gave him her coolest, most composed smile.
    â€œWelcome to Cadence,” she said brightly. “Mind if I join you?”
    She had to raise her voice to be heard above the loud rez-rock music, but she did not allow her brilliant smile to waver by so much as a fraction of an inch. Growing up in a family with three brothers and a father who were all ghost hunters had taught her a few things about dealing with the species. So had her mother. Rule number one, according to Evelyn St. Clair, was that a woman had to