Ghost Walk Read Online Free PDF

executed him in the first place.  “I’m not
a delusion.  I’m a ghost .”
    Grace
gave a high-pitched laugh at that lunacy.  “Oh, of course you are!”
    “It’s
true.  My name is Captain James MacCleef Riordan.  I was hanged in this accursed
town on July 4, 1789, for crimes I didn’t commit.”  He gestured towards the oak
tree stump.  “I was framed for killing those girls and I’ve been stuck
here ever since.  I swear it.  Ya have to assist me in finally clearing my
name.”
    “No,
no, no, no, no.”  Grace kept backing away from him.  “I don’t have to do
anything, except my deep breathing exercises.  This is all inside my head.  You’re
a manifestation of my anxiety and my weird fixation with that stupid picture.”
    She
should have known her obsession with that painting would lead to badness.  Her
first sex dreams had been about a murderer.  No wonder she was so screwed up.
    Jamie
Riordan (No, not Jamie Riordan!) moved closer again.  “Mistress Rivera, please . 
You were clearly sent to me for a reason.  I’m not going to hurt you.  I
couldn’t, even if wanted to.  Regain your equilibrium and everything will begin
to… watch out! ”
    Grace
was passed the point of even hearing him.  She had to get out of there before
she had a complete meltdown.  As she retreated, the heel of her old time-y shoe
wedged between two of the street’s cobblestones.  Caught off-guard, Grace
toppled backwards, her arms pin-wheeling for purchase.
    “Shit!” 
The-delusion-who-maybe-wasn’t-a-delusion reached out to try and grab her as she
fell.  Instead of catching hold of Grace and steadying her, his fingers passed
right through her wrist with a strange jolt of energy.  She hit the ground, her
skull whacking against the pavement.  Stars flashed in front of her eyes.
    The
very last thing she saw before the world went dark was Jamie Riordan’s stunning
face hovering over hers, his patriot blue eyes bright with concern.  “Donea
leave me, lass.”  He said very clearly.  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited
for you.”

Chapter Two
     
    June 20, 1789-  HC snuck in to see me last night,
after the Ball.  I woke up with my hands tied to the bedposts and his mouth
between my thighs.  He seemed intent on punishing me for dancing with JMR (He
quite detests the Pirate!) and I was begging him for forgiveness by the end.  I
cannot even write all the wicked things he did to my body while I was
helpless.  I’m sure Eugenia knows what we did and the gloomy little prude knows
that I know that she knows, which makes it all the more delicious.
    It
was quite a marvelous evening!
    From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
     
    “I
wish you’d let the ambulance take you to the hospital, just to check you out.” 
Mrs. Anita Beauregard-Smythe frowned, visions of lawsuits dancing in her head.  “You
really don’t look well and our insurance provider is very clear about getting timely
doctors’ reports.”
    As
head of Harrisonburg’s tour office, Anita was visibly worried about what the
guests’ comment cards would say if one of her guides had a psychotic break.  With
lacquered blonde hair fixed in a permeant bubble and a face that never lost its
empty smile, Anita had probably been born in her middle-aged pants suit.  She couldn’t
care less about the welfare of her employees, although she tried to cover that bean-counting
callousness with Southern manners.  Under the phony empathy and flawless make-up,
her only real focus was ruling her office fiefdom with an iron fist.
    “I
don’t need to go to the hospital.”  Grace assured her.  “I’m fine.”  She pointedly
refused to look at the delusion of Jamie Riordan, who was now lounging in the
corner of the Harrisonburg Guest Relations Center.
    Housed
in a two hundred year old building, the inside of the space was a modern mess,
filled with computers and overflowing files.  At nine o’clock in the evening,
Anita and Grace were the