by Gareth Otton
Jen nodded. Stella told her she would be back soon and then returned to the alley to wait for the police.
Jen was left alone with Tad. Looking at him, so damaged and close to death, all her frustrations about him vanished. All she wanted was for him to be well again. She climbed into the front passenger seat and turned so she could keep an eye on him. She reached for his hand and held it in hers.
Then, the true waiting began.
11
Wednesday, 18th November 2015
08:32
Stella snorted and woke up.
She was confused to find she wasn’t in her own bed, then horrified that someone might have heard her snort. She wiped her mouth, was disgusted at finding drool, and looked around the room.
This was not her room.
The walls had been painted white and left that way with no pictures or decoration. That amount of blank space made her fingers itch to fill it. There weren’t even curtains, just venetian blinds. It didn’t matter that they blocked out light; the room needed something to frame those windows.
What really drew her eye was the mess. Clothes were tossed casually on a chair in the far corner and left in piles on the floor. Drawers were ajar in the dresser next to the chair, and the wardrobe in the opposite corner was open. She had to look away. From shirts hanging half off their hangers to jackets that had fallen and not been picked up, it was Stella’s personal nightmare.
She had no idea how he could sleep in such mess.
She sat up straighter in her chair, a twin to the one on the other side of the room. Her back ached from her uncomfortable position and she cringed at the other pains that tugged at memories from last night. Her full recollection crashed into focus when she saw the face of the man in the bed.
To say Tad looked better was an understatement. The bruise on his cheek had faded and his skin was a much healthier pink than the dull grey it had been. His hair was still in that God awful tangle that made her want to brush it, but at least it wasn’t wet with blood. Some dried blood remained, but she remembered washing off the worst of it after she and Jen had wrestled him upstairs.
Jen. Of course. Was she okay?
Stella struggled to wake her mind. She was never at her best in the mornings, and this morning was especially hard. Shock could do that to a person. Last night had definitely been shocking… world changing.
Her mind cringed from that thought and she shivered, but forced herself to remember everything she had done last night.
She had returned to the scene to deal with the first responders. In the time it took to wrestle Tad to the car, another man had woken and left. That left only three of the injured six for the paramedics and police to work with. As much as she was annoyed that they would get away with their attack, it made explaining the situation easier.
In her statement she dialled down her own actions and included a lie about a good Samaritan that helped her out. No, she never got a good look at him, and she was in no position to stop him leaving.
It was not her best lie, but better than those Tad had been feeding her.
The paramedics gave her a once over and declared her healthy enough to avoid a trip to the hospital. She finished giving her statement and went through the usual after action reports. By the time she was free to go it was eleven and Jen was asleep in the car, curled up so she could keep Tad’s hand clutched tightly in her own.
Stella smiled as she remembered the scene. It was cute how worried Jen had been for him.
Stella woke her up for directions to Tad’s house and from there they undertook the arduous task of getting Tad to bed. With no ghosts to help it was much more difficult.
After getting him to bed, Stella hustled Jen from the room. Cleaning Tad up was not something his daughter should see. Jen put up a token protest, but was exhausted. She mumbled something about shared dreams keeping her up the night before and agreed to get some sleep.
Stella stripped away Tad’s dirty clothes, wincing when she saw the wound in his side. It was nasty, and would need cleaning and stitching. She debated the wisdom of not taking him to a hospital and wondered how she would forgive herself if he died.
It was too late for second guesses, so she got to work. She made no attempt to stitch the wound, she knew her limitations, but she made sure it was clean and dressed at least.
Stella cleaned the worst of the blood and tucked him into bed. Exhausted, she debated going downstairs to sleep on one of those huge sofas, but decided against it. She would stay in his room and keep an eye on him. If he took a turn for the worse, then Miriam be damned, she was calling an ambulance.
With the light of the morning seeping through the gaps in the blinds, she wondered how she had been so stupid to have gone along with this. Tad could have died, she would have lost her job, and Jen would have lost her father. She wasn’t confident she had been in her right mind.
Ghosts? Really?
Even with the official word from the bosses, the constant turns her case had taken, and her own assurances that she would take Tad seriously, she couldn’t believe they existed. Yet how could she deny what she saw with her own eyes?
She willed Tad to wake up. He had answers, and she was determined to get them.
However, answers weren’t the only reason she wanted him to wake up. He saved her life last night. She didn’t know how he did it with those guys being so much larger than him, but if he hadn’t been there she wouldn’t be alive today.
For some reason he risked his own life to save hers. She wasn’t sure of what happened, but she was smart enough to recognise what he had done for her. He sent his ghosts to save her, and she guessed that was why he went from being able to take down four guys on his own to getting himself knocked unconscious by a cheap shot Stella saw coming a mile away.
To make matters worse, she knew he didn’t like her. She had never had a guy ignore her advances as long as him. She could tell he found her attractive from the way he looked at her and, almost more telling, the times he tried not to look at her. But, for some reason he held himself back.
Over the last few days she questioned him, threatened to take away his daughter, and accused him of murdering people. They had even been arguing when the attack started.
Even after all that, he risked himself to save her. She didn’t think that behaviour existed outside of a Hollywood studio.
Overnight he moved from interesting to fascinating. He definitely had to wake up. Not only did she have questions, she had apologies and a big thank you to bestow.
She froze when he sucked in air like it was his last breath. Stella watched in fascination as mist flowed from him, not just from his outward breath but from every pore.
That mist broke into shapes that solidified into the four people she met the night before. Stella couldn't close her wide open mouth. Thankfully, they weren’t looking at her to witness her weakness. They stared at Tad as he opened his eyes.
He blinked, focused on the faces, then groaned.
“What the hell? You know I can’t stand being watched when I wake up.”
“Well this morning’s special, Thaddeus,” the fat ghost said. “We need to check our work.”
“Your work. What are you talking ab—”
He paused mid sentence when he spotted Stella. He didn’t speak for a few seconds and she wondered what kind of a mess she must look. She hadn’t seen a mirror since the incident and knew she was filthy. She panicked that she was looking frightful.
“Uh. Guys. Did I hit my head last night, or is that really Stella in my room?”
“Finally, hey Tad?” the young Asian kid said, nudging the big ghost suggestively. Miriam huffed, the big ghost rolled his eyes, and Tad had a look that said he had long since given up reacting to such comments. Only Maggie, the murder victim in Kate’s latest case, commented.
“Before you get mouthy, Tony. I think she can hear you.”
The boy turned and looked at Stella who stared right back. He waved a hand, and she waved
back. He yelped and turned away.
“Not cool, Tad. You’re supposed to warn a guy before you show him to the living.”
Miriam burst out laughing and it was Stella’s biggest surprise of the morning. She didn’t remember her boss ever laughing.
“It’s about time you got caught, you little perv.”
The boy shot Stella a nervous glance and looked back to Tad imploringly. Tad struggled to sit up and shrug at the same time.
“It must be Jen. I’m not doing it. She’s upset, and you know how she gets.”
“How do you know she’s upset?” the fat ghost asked.
“Well I…” his words trailed off, and he frowned. “I don’t know. I can feel it. She’s dreaming and I think she’s projecting… Huh. Weird.” He stretched and winced as pain pulled at his ribs. Turning to Stella, he said, “So, I guess I did get hit in the head last night, but you’re real nonetheless.”
“Pretty much,” she answered.
He looked from her to his open wardrobe and the dirty clothes on the chair, most of which were underwear. He sighed.
“That’s about right,” he muttered. Turning back to Stella, he said, “I expect you’ve got questions.”
“You could say that.”
“Give me five minutes to pull myself together and you can ask away.”
She was about to do as asked when she thought better of it.
“Hang on a second. You’re injured. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I feel fine,” he said. He really was a terrible liar, and she made that clear with a glare. “Well, maybe not fine, but I’m on the mend. Here, look at this.”
He peeled the padding, stained red with his blood, from his side. There was wincing and a curse or two, but eventually it came free and Stella could see the wound had closed.
She gasped. It was pretty much healed.
An angry red line showed where he had been cut and judging by his expression it was still painful. However, it was a remarkable improvement.
Tad wasn’t so happy.
“Did you guys feel like half-assing it?” he teased. “This thing still hurts.”
“The fact that you have your fine motor skills and your cranium is no longer cracked should give you more than enough reason for thanks, Thaddeus,” the larger ghost said with an indignant sniff and a twitch of his moustache.
Tad grinned. “I know, Charles. Just kidding. Thanks.” Turning back to Stella he added, “See. I’m fine. Now why don’t you give me five minutes and we’ll talk.”
She just nodded and stood. This was just too much. Suddenly feeling awkward, she headed out the door.
When Tad re-emerged, Stella sat at the breakfast counter with a mug of coffee. She was pleased that Tad stocked her favourite brand. It was expensive and hard to find. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
“I poured you a mug,” she said in way of greeting. “Miriam said you take three sugars. That’s blasphemous with coffee this good.”
He grinned and sat on the opposite side of the island. “I know. But I have a sweet tooth. Can’t be apologised for. It’s my only vice.”
The ghost of Maggie Patterson guffawed and Tad grinned even wider. He was in better spirits now he had a few moments to tidy himself up. Stella guessed that surviving an injury that should have killed him with only a scratch to show for it was reason enough to be happy.
Stella looked at Maggie, but her eye travelled back to Miriam. It was Miriam that she knew was dead. The rest of them could be in a magic show and were good at pulling tricks. But she had seen Miriam’s body. Yet there she was, perched on another breakfast stool, frowning at Tony on Tad’s side of the island.
Tony stared at Stella. She had learnt long ago to ignore the unwanted attentions of men, but it was hard to ignore him. Tad must have noticed.
“Tony. Go for a walk. I need to talk with Stella.”
“But I—”
“I’ll take him,” Maggie offered, cutting off Tony’s protest.
“But…” Maggie grabbed his arm and pulled him off the stool. “I didn’t do anything.” From the way everyone ignored him, Stella assumed it was a common occurrence.
Maggie hesitated at the door, then stepped through it without opening it. Stella choked on her coffee. Once she caught her breath, she put the mug down and pushed it away. She needed answers, and she would not have her beloved coffee tainted with the memory of this conversation.
“I want to say this before we start so you know that no matter how I react to anything you might say later, I really appreciate it. Thanks for saving my life.”
Tad was torn between looking uncomfortable at the compliment and laughing at how it was phrased.
“You’re welcome. Though, I think you saved me in the end. If you hadn’t trusted Jen and my ghosts, then I would be dying in a hospital somewhere.”
“We would never let you die, Thaddeus.” The fat ghost that leaned against a counter looked appalled.
Tad smiled over his shoulder at him and changed his story. “Maybe I would just be stuck doing a lot of explaining. Either way, thanks.”
She shook her head. “It’s not the same. You risked your life for me last night. I won’t ever forget it.”
“Does that mean you won't be bothering me about me showing up places I shouldn’t be?”
His smile was mischievous and Stella struggled to keep her frown. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but she wanted to grin right back at him.
“No. You’ll still get stick over it. I just won’t go accusing you of murder again.”
“You did what?” Miriam asked, appalled.
Tad laughed. “She thought I killed Mags so Kate could solve the murder.”
Information clicked together in Stella’s mind and she had a eureka moment.
“You’ve been leading Kate to murder scenes,” she accused. “Only you weren’t the ones killing them, their ghosts were telling you what happened.”
Tad had the grace to blush. “Well, I suppose that’s the way of it. Not many police listen when I tell them a ghost told me who killed them. Kate does.”
“I knew there was a reason she kept getting those murders. It’s been bugging me for months.”
“Has it now?” Miriam asked, and it was Stella’s turn to blush. She forgot about their history. It didn’t curb her curiosity though. One solved mystery ignited a hundred other questions. She needed answers or she thought she might burst.
“I need to know everything, Tad. What’s going on? What are you?”
Tad winced. “That wasn’t the nicest question. I’m a man, just like any other.” The fat ghost, Charles, coughed suggestively and Tad grinned again. “Okay. Maybe not quite like any other. I am what those in the know call a Proxy.”
She’d heard that somewhere before. Where had she heard it? It was on the tip of her tongue...
“Wait. Proxy or Roxy?”
“Proxy.”
“That idiot Marcus heard it wrong.”
“Marcus? Tommy’s friend?”
She nodded and told him what happened after he left. Tad thought about as much of Marcus as Marcus had of Tad. She had a fascinated audience, and he laughed when she recapped a few choice parts of the incident. She smiled as well. It wasn’t often that people outside work enjoyed her stories from the office.
“What an idiot. No, we’re definitely Proxies.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means ghosts use us to interact with the world, they live through us by proxy.”
Stella nodded as though she understood, but didn’t in the slightest. “And what you could do last night? The way you fought?”
“To be honest, that surprised me. You might not believe this, but that was my first fight… or at least the first fight where I fought back.”
He was right, Stella didn’t believe it. However, she had learnt his tells, and she sensed only honesty from him.
“Maybe you should have tried fighting back sooner, you seem to have a kna
ck for it.”
“So it seems. But that was because I had Tony inside me… uh… look. I’m getting ahead of myself. It works like this. When a ghost dies and decides not to move on, they need to find a Proxy. The pull of the next life is so strong that it drives ghosts mad soon after death. By spending the night with a Proxy they get grounded in the real world for a day and can keep the madness away.
“When we merge, a part of me is with them for a day and a part of them with me. The part of me with them gives them access to my knowledge and keeps them grounded. The part of them in me gives me access to their knowledge and also imbues me with their talents. Recently I’ve learned how to show the ghosts to people, hence how they’re talking to you now. You with me so far?”
Stella blinked and shook her head. “No. But keep going, I’ll store my questions for later.”
He smiled again and once more she found herself grinning right back. What was wrong with her?
“If I merge with a ghost while awake, I add their strength to my own. Last night I was fighting with Tony’s strength added to mine… uh, or maybe more… But that’s complicated for right now. I also got a boost in speed, stamina, a touch of healing… oh and my senses got a boost as well. Mr Dickens over here was watching my back.”
“Dickens? As in Charles Dickens? The Charles Dickens?”
“Yes I am,” Charles said proudly.
“No he’s not,” Tad said with a sigh.
“Well if she means the true Charles Dickens, the one who was here first and was a damn sight more talented than that scribbling idiot, then I sure am.”
Stella looked at the odd ghost in amazement. She only now noticed his fashion sense was not from the modern world. His suit, though neat, was centuries out of date. His mutton chops were something she never saw other than on the stereotypical farmers on certain soap operas she had long since given up on.
“Don’t listen to him, Stella. He’s just sore about the Charles Dickens that history forgot.”
“What does that mean?” Stella asked.
“It means I was robbed,” Charles shouted. “Ten years older than that upstart and it’s his works that everyone remembers. I might be one of the most brilliant historical minds in Britain, but I still get showed up by a bloke who writes about thieving little orphans.”