“Could be, but I’ve never heard of a lost and lonely spirit with that kind of power,” Jeanne mused. “Then again, he did cause some damage to your kitchen.”
“Uh, most of that was me,” Vivian admitted sheepishly. No amount of magic eraser or cleaner would get that out. She’d have to spring for paint.
“You have got to practice more,” Jeanne scolded.
“Yeah, yeah, Cheer Captain, I know. I’ve been a little busy and I was a little distracted tonight.”
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Vivian that almost made her heart stop. “Jeanne, will that hold him for a while?”
“You’d better believe it,” she said. “What are you thinking? What can I do to help?”
Sometimes having a cheer captain was just what the doctor ordered. Vivian smiled, hoping the next few minutes would prove her fears unfounded.
“I need you to step into the living room with me, but stay incorporeal, okay?”
She looked doubtful, but nodded. Jeanne stood beside Vivian when she walked back into the living room and paused the movie. Naturally, Connor didn’t take too kindly to that.
“I want my teevee,” he whined.
“In a minute,” Vivian said.
“I not go pee pee anymore,” he shrieked, hopping to his feet and preparing to bolt.
“No, no,” Vivian soothed, bending down to get on his eye level. “I need to ask you a very important question. Connor, can you see anyone in here other than me?”
Connor looked around, making a big show of scanning the room, looking under chairs, behind the couch, and inside the drawers on Vivian’s coffee table. He looked in Jeanne’s direction a few times and Vivian held her breath.
Please, oh please, dear God, let me be wrong.
After the longest two minutes of Vivian’s life, Connor stood up and knitted his eyebrows together. If Vivian hadn’t been so scared, it would have been comical.
“I not see anyone,” he said. “Where’s Junior?”
Vivian rocked back on her rump and sat on the floor, tears streaming from her face.
“Vee Vee cwying, poor Vee Vee,” Connor said, coming over to plant himself on her lap and embracing her with his little arms. “Vee Vee sad?”
“No, sweetie,” she muttered between sobs. “Aunt Vivie is very, very relieved.” She held him for a few more minutes before he squirmed out of her arms.
“May I watch deeveedee?” he asked.
“You sure can, buddy,” Vivian replied, turning it back on and settling him on the couch. She planted another kiss on his soft forehead and said, “I love you, Connor.”
“I wuv you too,” he replied halfheartedly. He was engrossed in the television once more.
She motioned for Jeanne to join her in the kitchen again. Their prisoner had regained consciousness, or whatever the equivalent state for ghosts was, and struggled against his bonds. Vivian sent a targeted blast of red light at him and he took the hint.
“That’s for blowing up my microwave,” she said. “Now, we’ve got a few questions for you.”
“Let me out of here!” squeaked the spirit. She knelt down and got a closer look at him. He had regained enough strength to manifest as he had at the zoo.
“No can do,” Jeanne chimed in. “You are in big trouble, mister. Lost soul or not, you just can’t go around threatening guardians and their living helpers. You’ve got some explaining to do, starting with your powers. Are you a poltergeist?”
“I didn’t attack anyone, I swear. I was just looking out for the little guy. He reminds me of my little brother,” he whimpered, seeming genuinely distressed at the accusation. “He likes it when I break lights. It makes him laugh.”
“Well, you scared the bejesus out of his mama, not to mention me with that stunt you pulled at the zoo,” Vivian said.
“That mean old biddy was picking on Connor, and on you. She shouldn’t do that,” he said, looking like a petulant child who’d just been told to go to the principal’s office.
“Be that as it may, you just can’t go around making mischief for the living,” Jeanne said. “It’s just not polite.”
Vivian rolled her eyes and then considered the situation. So far, Junior hadn’t caused any harm to the Clemmens family, and he just didn’t seem to have the firepower that this rogue guardian did. He couldn’t even manage to break out of Jeanne’s cage. It seemed he was exactly what he claimed to be—a lonely spirit who’d somehow befriended a small boy. She couldn’t blame him. It had probably been ages since anyone had noticed him. And Connor was a charmer.
Still, she couldn’t take chances. She needed to know if his intentions were evil or benign. “So, your name is Junior?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, casting his gaze down as a sign of deference, or fear, perhaps.
“If we let you out, are you going to cause any more trouble?” Vivian asked.
“No, ma’am,” Junior replied, shaking his head vigorously.
“Wait a minute,” Jeanne said. “We can’t just let him out.”
“Why not? He’s not responsible for attacking the padre and threatening me, and I don’t think he means any harm to Scooter, do you?” Vivian turned to ask him.
“No, I’ve been looking out for Scooter.” He beamed, gaze fully of pride. “And I only blew your microwave to get your attention. There was a spirit looking in your window.”
“What?” Vivian and Jeanne cried in unison.
“He was staring at you, ma’am,” he said to Vivian. “I couldn’t see his face, but he was glowing white.”
“Shit,” Vivian said, panic gripping her. She’d been so wrapped up in dealing with the lost and lonely spirit she’d forgotten to stay vigilant for the rogue guardian. “Jeanne, can you call Ezra and get him over here? I don’t want any more trouble with Connor here. And let Junior out, too. He can help keep watch, can’t you?”
“Oh yes, ma’am,” agreed Junior.
Jeanne did a little sashay and snapped her fingers, making the light cage disappear. Vivian was about to comment, but Jeanne was preoccupied with giving Junior the business about behaving himself. They disappeared for a bit, probably checking for any signs of the rogue guardian.
When they returned, Jeanne reassured her that the only spirits in the area were the regulars who haunted the neighborhood. They liked to stick close to Vivian and the guardian spirits who visited, and they’d agreed to keep an eye out for any unusual activity.
Then Jeanne turned back to Junior and resumed the scolding session. Vivian didn’t think the timid ghost would give them any more trouble.
“And for goodness’ sake, do not blow out any more lights. We’ve already got enough expenses to cover for Miss Vivian,” Jeanne concluded. She then dismissed Junior, who floated through the kitchen door. He must have joined Scooter, since his disappearance coincided with a shriek of delight.
“So,” Jeanne began, moving beside Vivian and looking her up and down. “What was the dog and pony show with the kid all about?”
“Oh,” Vivian sighed, slumping into one of her dinette chairs. “I was worried about Connor seeing spirits. I thought—”
“You were worried that he was scheduled for a crossing?” Jeanne asked, incredulous. She shook her head. “I would’ve told you. You probably would have known anyway. Don’t worry. He’s got a long life ahead of him.”
“Yeah, I was worried,” Vivian replied. Cradling her head in her hands to ease the dull ache, she voiced the other horrible thought that had crossed her mind. “Or worse. He might be like me.”
“Is it really that bad?” Jeanne asked, apparently shocked but not without sympathy, judging from her gaze.
“It’s definitely lonely,” Vivian murmured. Then another thought occurred to her. “Hey, remember you said there are others like me? Can I meet some?”
“Hmm, I’ll have to check. There aren’t very many, and they’re pretty scattered,” Jeanne said, hesitant.
“I’ve got a phone, email, social media. I’m not hard to get a hold of.” Sh
e hadn’t realized until now how much she wanted—needed—to connect with others like her.
“We’ll see,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ve got me.”
Jeanne put her arms around Vivian and sent warmth and comfort flowing into her. That alleviated some of her worries. It gave Vivian the peace of mind she needed and let her relax enough to curl up on the couch with Connor and enjoy some cuddle time. Ezra, who’d arrived shortly after the brouhaha with Junior, and Jeanne seemed to be having some sort of heated discussion in the kitchen, but she was too tired and drained to be concerned about it, or nosy.
When Jeanne emerged, she slipped a piece of paper on the table next to Vivian and nodded to the kitchen door. She sent a mental text along the lines of “Hide from Ezra.” Vivian got the hint and slipped it between the cushions on her sofa. Ezra came out next and gave Vivian and Connor a warm smile and pointed to the door, making a circular motion with his fingers.
Oh, right, they’re going to keep watch. Good.
She nodded and slipped further down under the covers with no objection from Connor. With Ezra, Jeanne, and Junior on patrol, she and Connor slept peacefully on the couch. She’d need to replenish her energy for the days ahead. She had a date with the padre and some local spirits tomorrow.
Let her guardians watch and wait. She’d be taking action, starting tomorrow with the biggest gossips this side of eternity.
CHAPTER 10
Vivian spied the padre’s car as she pulled into the gravel parking lot at the Feed Mill. It had literally once functioned in the manufacture of animal feed. The building now resembled an old country store and specialized in feeding people rather than livestock. The folks along this stretch of downtown Nolensville—though calling it “downtown” was a stretch, to say the least—had the good sense to register most of the buildings as historic landmarks. That meant they weren’t in danger of demolition as the lust for good and pricey real estate continued to consume the outer reaches of Williamson County. As a result, this little section of town had an Andy Griffith vibe to it, except in beautiful, vibrant color.
There was a whole lot of ghost lore out there. Vivian had learned that most of it was complete garbage, but at least a little bit of it rang true. Nostalgia seemed to be big in the departed community, and a lot of them were old, like Ezra. Hospitals and nursing homes teemed with spirits. Cemeteries and battlefields were good bets, too. She kept her ears open for gossip whenever she visited her sister’s grave, or Zeke’s, but she doubted the spirits there would be very helpful for her situation. And she’d sworn to never set foot on a battlefield again after getting spooked, literally, at Stones River Battlefield. The “War of Northern Aggression” hadn’t ended for some of the South’s native sons even in this day and age, but they had nothing on the spirits of veterans who still lingered on.
Nolensville, with its antique stores, old churches, and even a small cemetery, was the gathering place for all manner of Music City’s dearly departed when they weren’t resting in peace in the marble orchard. Vivian had discovered that by accident when she went shopping there after her powers manifested. Guardians dropped by from time to time, as did lost and lonely spirits during times of lucidity, and the odd reaper put in an appearance on occasion. In addition, many of the local unaffiliated spent a good bit of time there. They had a lot of time on their hands, after all. Vivian kept on friendly terms with a few of them, trading spirit power for information or shopping tips.
They knew their antiques pretty well, as well as what the markup had been on any particular item.
She smiled when the priest hopped down from the front porch to meet her. His smile was just about the best sight she’d seen in the last few days. She even felt free to give him a big hug as he’d traded his collar for a T-shirt and jeans.
“Thanks for coming, Padre,” Vivian said. “It’ll be nice to have someone who can tell me if who I see is among the living or dead.”
The last time Vivian popped by, she’d gotten a few stares from folks who were no doubt convinced that she was talking to herself. Father Montgomery could serve as a cover and keep her from mistaking a spirit for a live one.
“Have you had any more run-ins with this rogue guardian?” The priest asked.
“Well, maybe. I think I ought to fill you in on the whole story first. A lot’s been going on the last couple of days. Most of it not great.”
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern painted across his face. Part of it was a priest thing, but most was just his nature. He made confession easy.
“I split with Jace.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Was he put off by your work?” The priest maintained a neutral and conversational tone, which helped her get through the rest without exploding in anger.
“Well, he did say that he thought I would never put him first, but I didn’t have the chance to tell him about seeing the dead. Then he fessed up to having another woman on the side. I spent half the morning at my doctor getting screened for any diseases he might have passed along. I mean, we were careful, but not too careful.”
She didn’t want to elaborate and risk getting a look or a lecture on the merits of abstinence, though there were plenty of cheating bastards out there with wives. Still, she didn’t need to have the priest kick her while she was already down.
Father Montgomery didn’t speak, but pulled Vivian to him and held her while she composed herself. It was surprisingly…pleasant. Not awkward or embarrassing. Then again, she’d learned long ago that the priest was only human.
And he’d allowed her to see him at his worst, just as she’d witnessed his darkest hours through his memories come to life when they’d traveled to the reaper’s dark realm. They’d been to Hell and back together, and the bond they’d formed became the bedrock of her new life. Seemed she did, in fact, have someone who understood.
He gave her a final pat on the back and said, “Why don’t we go grab a sandwich and you can tell me the rest? My treat.”
Wiping her eyes, she said, “Thanks, Padre.”
They enjoyed deli sandwiches filled full of Amish cheese and cold cuts while Vivian told the priest about Junior and his likely sighting of the threatening spirit who was after her. She didn’t mention Darkmore, thinking it unwise to let anyone in her circle of spirits or living helpers know about her ongoing association with the reaper. Though Lloyd Montgomery was not quite as black and white in his thinking as, say, Jeanne, he didn’t hold Darkmore in high regard.
How could he, after what he’d seen and experienced in the reaper’s home?
How could she?
Jeanne believed that you had to choose sides, which is why she’d refused to visit the “free range” spirits with Vivian. The priest simply didn’t trust Darkmore. Vivian was afraid he’d convince her not to trust the reaper either. She cherished Lloyd Montgomery, the only living man in her life who really knew her. He was, after all, the only true confidant she had this side of eternity. It was both comforting and disconcerting. But she loved him for being her friend. She couldn’t bear to lose him, but feared she might if he knew of her ties to the reaper.
He couldn’t possibly understand her complex…relationship, for lack of a better term, with Darkmore. Before they’d escaped his realm with the help of Ezra, Mae, and Vivian’s spirit light, Darkmore had tried to save them. He hadn’t wanted to enslave Vivian, to force her to work for him as the guardians did, or so he’d claimed. He wished her to choose him.
He could be as persuasive with charm as he could be with fear. And yet, he’d seemed so genuine in his distress upon finding her with the priest, angry that she hadn’t trusted him enough to discuss the terms of her surrender—not that she’d intended to surrender—and…hurt that he was unable to join them when they’d ascended back to Earth.
Darkness was his home, he’d claimed. He was right. And she suspected it made his yearning for a companion all the more powerful.
No, she couldn’t tell any of this to the priest. She’d have to
settle for sharing what she was able and hoping it would be enough to figure out who was after her and how to stop the threat.
“So tell me,” Father Montgomery said between bites. “Who do you see?”
“Well, see those clothes hanging on the rack over there?” Vivian pointed to some Amish dresses, bonnets, and slacks on the wall to the right of their table. “There are a couple of little old white-haired ladies standing underneath them and chatting each other. I’ll bet you can’t see them, though.”
“No,” the priest conceded. “Who else?”
“There’s a young man sulking in the corner.” Vivian tried to be inconspicuous as she cast furtive glances around the room. “I see a young couple at the table behind us, too.”
“The young man you mentioned must be a ghost, but the other two are real,” he said with a smile. “How do you manage to keep it all straight?”
She grinned. “I don’t always. I just proceed with caution. Oh, and I almost always keep my Bluetooth in my ear so I can pretend that I’m talking on my cell. It saves me some embarrassment.”
They kept chatting while Vivian worked up her nerve, and they took the burly clerk up on his offer to try a slice of pie with a side of fresh-brewed Southern pecan coffee. Vivian suggested that they take a walk down the street to see if she could discreetly engage some of the spirits in a fact-finding chat.
She settled on a well-dressed older woman sitting outside of the Three French Hens store, sending out a mental message first to get her attention. She looked Vivian up and down, raising her eyebrows at the priest before jerking her head to indicate that they should follow her around to the side of the old white two-story house for privacy.
Once safely away from prying eyes, the spirit spoke. “You Ezra’s girl?” she snapped.
Father Montgomery flinched, but only because she chose that moment to make herself visible to him. She wasn’t corporeal, as she was neither guardian nor reaper. She appeared a bit like a hologram, transparent and with the tendency to fade in and out, as if her spiritual transmission frequency kept shifting. Still, it took real power to become visible to the living—ordinary living folks without Vivian’s special powers of perception. This spirit appeared to manage through sheer force of will.
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