Phantom Evil (Krewe of Hunters)
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A secret government unit, a group of renegade paranormal investigators…and a murder no one else can crack
Though haunted by the recent deaths of two teammates, Jackson Crow knows that the living commit the most heinous crimes.
A police officer utilizing her paranormal intuition, Angela Hawkins already has her hands full of mystery and bloodshed.
But one assignment calls to them too strongly to resist. In a historic mansion in New Orleans's French Quarter, a senator's wife falls to her death. Most think she jumped; some say she was pushed. And yet others believe she was beckoned by the ghostly spirits inhabiting the house—once the site of a serial killer's grisly work.
In this seemingly unsolvable case, only one thing is certain: whether supernatural or all too human, crimes of passion will cast Jackson and Angela into danger of losing their lives…and their immortal souls.
this—I think the senator actually brought us in, knowing what would finally come out and planning on getting rid of DuPre and all of you, through us.” “Oh, no,” Grable said. “You don’t understand politics. The senator will come out of all this just fine—after you’re dead, of course. And we’ll be just fine as well.” “Shut up, she doesn’t need to know any of this!” Lisa said. “Everything will fall on Martin DuPre, and they’ll think street thugs
the light. They remained at a distance; but Angela clearly saw a woman and a little boy. She knew the woman—she recognized her from the pictures she had seen. It was Regina Holloway, and Angela knew then that she had surmised the situation correctly. Regina had never haunted them because she had gone on. She had gone on to be with her son. But she was grateful to them, and she had come there, for just a shimmering instant, to say thank you. She
a smile that would light the world. Studying her personality was an intriguing and appealing concept. “Hi, there!” Jake called to her. “Angela, Jake, Jake, Angela.” “So, how did you sleep? Any ghosts prowling the halls?” Jake asked. He might have been asking her if a shopping mall had been busy. “I was out like a light last night,” she told him. “Welcome to the crew!” Jake smiled at her. And Angela returned it. They seemed to have an instant, easy rapport. He was
bedroom. She paused for a minute, wondering if she might feel anything of the woman who had lived here so briefly. But there was nothing, and so she started to leave the room. And then, as she did so, she thought that she felt something. A touch on her cheek. A gentle touch. Something so light it might have been imagined. “Regina?” she said softly. But again, there was nothing. And so she hurried down the stairs, anxious to meet the senator—and the men who followed behind
cannot or will not leave, because of what they know, or what they, in their wisdom, hope to prevent.” She paused for a moment, looking at Angela. And Angela felt that the woman was reading everything in her soul. Mama Matisse knew. She knew that Angela saw things, or dreamed them, but even in dreams, saw them clearly as when they had happened. For a moment, Angela felt a chill. And then, it seemed that warmth and power came into her hand, the hand that Mama Matisse held, and began to travel all