“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said. “Molly said you’ve got a birthmark, on your inner thigh.”
“Left thigh,” Molly said.
“Left thigh,” O’Dell said. “In the shape of a pair of cherries.”
Sam’s march began to slow. He still hadn’t turned around.
“Tell him he loves old sitcoms, mostly from the mid-nineties,” Molly said.
O’Dell did.
“Tell him we went on a trip to Hawaii last year,” Molly said. “We went to a store to buy a Hawaiian shirt for him, one-size-fits-all. But when we got back to the room and tried it on, it was too tight and made him look like a regular at G.A.Y.”
O’Dell repeated Molly word for word.
Sam turned around. His expression was ashen. He looked at O’Dell like he had never seen anyone like him before.
He approached O’Dell, who took a few steps back. Sam was a big man. O’Dell was half his size. It was an intimidating sight, especially with the way O’Dell had been riling him. Even Molly wasn’t sure how Sam might react. He seemed to have taken on a darker expression than she was used to seeing.
“Tell him I love him,” Molly said. “And I always will.”
“She said she loves you,” O’Dell said. “And always will.”
Sam thumbed the tears out the corner of his eyes. Did he believe? Could he? Molly didn’t know. With the strange sequence of events police officers experience on a daily basis, it was easy to believe in a higher power. A great orchestrator of the heavens.
Or perhaps he just wanted to believe.
“Tell me,” Sam said. “Tell me everything.”
Molly sighed with relief. He believed them. It was the first big step toward keeping him safe.
Chapter Nine
The café was noisy with the lunchtime crowd. Two waitresses weaved between the tables with an agility that came only with prolonged practice. The chef was an Eastern European man, large, loud, barely able to fit in the micro kitchen.
“I was working when Molly found me,” O’Dell said.
“Knocking off an old grandma,” Molly said.
“At first, I thought I was hearing voices,” O’Dell said, ignoring the comment. “But when I actually listened to what she was saying, I realized she was real.”
“You don’t seem all that surprised you can hear her,” Sam said.
Sam was always quick to jump to the salient point.
“That’s because my father had it,” O’Dell said. “We all thought he was hearing voices. That they weren’t real. We did our best to take care of him, but eventually, he became too difficult. We ended up putting him in a home. I wonder what it must have felt like. For him to have to go through that, knowing that not even his family believed him.”
“Did he hear many ghosts?” Molly said.
“Yes,” O’Dell said. “Why?”
“Because I was under the impression not many escaped from the Halfway House,” Molly said.
“Then perhaps more than you thought escaped,” O’Dell said. “Or maybe there’s somewhere else they get taken and it’s easier for them to get back here.”
Sam frowned.
“Sorry,” O’Dell said. “I forgot you can’t hear her. She asked if my dad spoke to many ghosts, and why there are so many here when she was led to believe there weren’t many.”
Sam blinked.
“You’re talking to her right now,” he said. “Right this second.”
“Yes,” O’Dell said.
Sam shook his head.
“It’s hard to believe,” he said.
“But it’s true,” O’Dell said. “I never asked for this. Though I can’t say I’m surprised I have it. In the past, I sometimes thought I overheard someone talking. But when I turned back to see who it was, no one was there.”
“Where is she right now?” Sam said.
“I don’t know,” O’Dell said. “I can hear her. I can’t see her.”
“I’m sitting next to him,” Molly said.
“She said she’s sitting next to you,” O’Dell said.
Sam turned to look at the empty seat beside him. He looked nervous.
“On your other side,” Molly said.
“She said on your other side,” O’Dell said.
Sam turned his attention to the other seat.
“Tell him I have my hand on his cheek,” Molly said.
“She said she’s touching your face,” O’Dell said.
Sam put a hand to his cheek and tried to feel her with every sense he had. He felt nothing. And he would never feel anything. Because Molly was dead. This was a scam. He’d seen thousands of cases like this over the years. He wouldn’t let himself be one of the pathetic victims.
He shot a look at O’Dell.
“Why are you doing this?” he said. “Hoping to make your next quick buck?”
“Hey pal,” O’Dell said. “If I wanted to earn, I would have done it a lot closer to home than this.”
“Maybe our bucks are worth more here,” Sam said. “Going up in the world, huh?”
He got to his feet, getting the attention of half a dozen other patrons.
“What do you want from me?” Sam said.
“I don’t want anything from you,” O’Dell said. “I came here to give you Molly’s message. That’s it. Then maybe your girlfriend will leave me alone.”
“I can’t accept this,” Sam said. “I need to get back to work. I can’t be seen here talking to a schizophrenic.”
“I’m no damn schizo,” O’Dell said, nostrils flaring.
“Your act is pretty sharp,” Sam said. “I have to admit, you had me going for a while. But I won’t let you destroy Molly’s legacy. I won’t let you do it.”
He picked up his lunch bag and the tea he’d ordered but hadn’t yet sipped. He turned to go.
“Don’t let him leave!” Molly said.
“How?” O’Dell said.
“Tell him I love him,” Molly said.
“I can’t say that here!” O’Dell said.
“Just say it!” Molly said. “Or I’ll be singing every day for the rest of your life!”
“Oh man…” O’Dell said.
Sam was at the door, pushing it open.
“Now!” Molly said.
“Molly loves you!” O’Dell said.
The entire café turned silent. The patrons turned to look at the young man and his declaration of love.
O’Dell colored. He had never been so embarrassed his whole life. At least he was in a part of town where no one knew him.
“Tell him this,” Molly said. “I’ve loved you ever since we met. I’ve loved you ever since the Rorschach case. I came back from hell to see you again. I’m not about to let you go now.”
O’Dell repeated the words.
The words were Molly’s. They had simply been spoken in a voice that wasn’t hers. But the inflection, the tone, the way he seemed to mean them, struck a chord with Sam.
Sam looked at the empty seat beside the one he had been sitting in. The one Molly was supposed to be sitting in.
And he believed.
Chapter Ten
“After Molly died, she was taken to a place called the Halfway House,” O’Dell said. “It’s where people go to live out debts they owe based on the things they’ve done wrong in their lives. Am I explaining this right, Molly?”
“Yes, so far,” Molly said.
They were in Molly and Sam’s house. It felt strange to be back here. Before, when she was still alive, it seemed so big. It was here they were going to bring up their kids, where they were going to build a life together. And then she had died.
Molly wasn’t at ease. She peered out the windows and down the corridors, making sure the guards weren’t onto her location. If Molly was in charge, this was the location she would have staked out and expected her to return to.
“Everyone has done something wrong in their life,” O’Dell said. “That’s what Molly said. Every little thing since
you were a kid. Toted up to give you a sentence. Some afterlife, huh?”
“Life should come with some kind of warning,” Sam said.
“Sounds crazy, I know,” Molly said. “But it’s not. I was there for a few days, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be there any longer. These things, these creatures, they guard the prisoners, keep them locked down. They’re supposed to stay there until the term is up. I managed to escape by grabbing one of the creatures. Its ability to pass through the crystal barrier was transferred into me.”
She paused.
“O’Dell?” she said. “You’re supposed to be telling Sam this.”
O’Dell was busy looking at the photographs they had arranged in their cabinet. It showed Molly with a beaming smile, in Sam’s arms at the beach.
“You’re cute,” O’Dell said.
“Thanks,” Molly said.
“Maybe I ought to be treating you nicer than I have,” O’Dell said.
“Hey,” Sam said. “Can you stop hitting on my girlfriend, please?”
“It’s not like I can do anything with her,” O’Dell said with pursed lips. “I can’t see her, let alone touch her. And she can’t touch me either.”
“Actually, I can,” Molly said.
O’Dell’s head snapped around.
“Can you?” he said.
“Can she what?” Sam said, temper a little short.
“She said she can touch people,” O’Dell said.
“I did it once, not with a person, but another ghost,” Molly said. “It’s a long story. I managed to touch her. But I don’t know how.”
“That would be a useful skill to learn, don’t you think?” O’Dell said. “It would turn you from a spectator into the master of our world.”
“What do you mean?” Molly said.
“I mean, you’d be able to inflict harm on others, maybe even fire guns and all that jazz,” O’Dell said. “No one would be able to stand up to you.”
“Except the guards,” Sam said. “One touch from them, and you’d be toast. Or from another ghost.”
He fell onto the sofa. He sunk into it.
“Getting back to what you were saying,” he said. “You escaped, and then what?”
“I fell back to Earth,” Molly said. “I found you, Casey, and the others, at my funeral.”
“You were at your funeral?” Sam said.
“That was when I escaped,” Molly said. “A gateway is formed when enough people think about me. The guards come and take me so I can see them. Most ghosts get to see their own funeral.”
“That’s just weird,” O’Dell said, picking up another photograph. This one of Molly and Sam skiing in the Rockies.
“And you did all this in order to tell me something?” Sam said.
“A warning,” Molly said. “You are in danger.”
“In danger from what?” Sam said.
“From Wayne Lopez,” Molly said.
O’Dell almost dropped the picture frame.
“Wayne Lopez?” he said.
“He’s going to come after you and Casey,” Molly said. “He’s going to make you tell him where the shot glass is.”
O’Dell wore a deep frown.
“What is Molly telling you?” Sam said.
“Huh?” O’Dell said, distracted. “Oh. That Lopez is going to capture you or Casey and make you tell him where the shot glass is.”
Sam put a hand to his forehead.
“I thought this was all over,” he said. “Where is his location?”
“Get a pen and paper,” Molly said.
As Molly reeled off the address and O’Dell repeated it, Sam wrote it down.
“What do you want me to do with it?” Sam said.
“Give it to Casey,” Molly said. “She’ll break down the doors and arrest him. We’ll get him for prostitution and dealing drugs. And that’s just a start. At least then, you’ll be safe.”
“Sounds good,” Sam said.
“Break down doors?” O’Dell said. “Prostitution? Dealing? Who are you guys?”
Sam’s eyes flicked to O’Dell’s face and back down again.
O’Dell frowned. Wait. He had seen something already that might answer his question. He moved to the cabinet and looked at the photos, scouring them for what pricked his mind.
And then he found it.
He took down the photo of Molly, beaming and happy. She was wearing a uniform. Only the shirt collar was visible. But it was enough.
“O’Dell…” Molly said.
“You’re a cop?” O’Dell said.
“I wanted to tell you…” Molly said.
“Obviously not, otherwise you would have done,” O’Dell said. “You’re investigating Wayne Lopez, who lives and works in my neighborhood. You never thought I should know that?”
“You never asked,” Molly said.
“And all this time I thought you were all right,” O’Dell said, his expression turning sour. “Now I discover you’re a pig.”
He turned to Sam.
“What about you?” he said. “Are you one too?”
Sam looked away.
“No need to answer,” O’Dell said. “You’ve practically got the stink of bacon.”
“It doesn’t change anything,” Molly said. “I still needed your help, and you were the only one who could help me.”
“You wanted something from me, and forced it from me,” O’Dell said. “Sounds familiar, don’t you think?”
His tone was short, sharp.
“Hey,” Sam said. “None of this matters now. It’s about something bigger than this.”
“Nothing is bigger than this,” O’Dell said. “You pigs put your heel on our necks and force us into the dirt. I’m where I am because of you!”
“That’s not fair,” Molly and Sam said at the same time.
“We never treated anyone differently,” Molly said. “No matter their skin color.”
“Sorry if I don’t whoop for joy,” O’Dell said. “You want to know the real reason my pop had to go into a mental home? Because the cops were called in to handle a domestic situation. My dad heard a ghost telling him about a kid trapped in a car at the local supermarket.
“The parents had gone inside to do their shopping. Sure enough, in come the police and they arrest him. He tells them about the kid in the supermarket. They don’t believe him. He gets arrested and taken to the station.
“The next day out comes the newspaper. A kid was found dead in a supermarket car park. They questioned my pop on how he knew about the baby. A ghost told him, he said. Did they believe him? Of course, they didn’t.
“They could never tie him to the baby’s death, but they didn’t need to. They strung him up with half a dozen other cases. To send him to the mental home. It was better there for him, they said. Safer. Except there’s no escape from a mental home.
“You see, sometimes when you hear voices, you need to be able to escape. You need to be able to get away for a while. That was why he left the city sometimes, to get to the country and get some quiet, and some sleep. It’s tough to be like that. And now, with no way of turning the voices off…
“He took his own life. There was no escape for him, except death. And so he became what had tormented him his whole life. A ghost. I listened every day for ten years, wanting to hear his voice again. But I never did. I suppose he never wanted to inflict on me what had been forced upon him. He would never have died like that if it wasn’t for you pigs.”
“O’Dell…” Molly said.
“I’m getting out of here,” O’Dell said. “I can’t be a part of this. Lopez is too dangerous. They’ll know who I am. I have to think about my mom. I’m all she’s got left.”
“You can’t go,” Molly said. “We need you. I need you.”
“My mom needs me more,” O’Dell said. “You said you wanted me to pass on a message. I’ve done that. You don’t need me anymore.”
“Wait,” Molly said.
“Don’t you get it?” O’Dell sa
id. “Lopez is the bad guy to you. Mr. Big you’d love to put behind bars. But whether you like it or not he’s the heart and soul of my community. He has his fingers in every pie. Don’t you know what this means? It means I’m going to end up alongside you in the Halfway House if I’m not careful. And I’ve done far too much to get taken there now. If anything should happen to me or my mom, I’m coming for you.”
He grabbed his jacket and moved for the door.
“Good luck,” O’Dell said. “You’re both going to need it.”
He left, slamming the door behind him, leaving Sam and Molly alone. Together, and yet they might as well be a million miles apart.
Chapter Eleven
Casey sat staring at Sam. He had told her everything that had happened between himself and O’Dell. She looked shocked.
“Incredible, right?” Sam said. “I could hardly believe it myself. He knew everything about us. Everything about how we first met, our memories together. Personal things no one else knew.”
“It’s incredible, all right,” Casey said. “It’s incredible to me that you could believe something like this.”
Sam’s face fell.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“Jesus, Sam,” Casey said, holding her head in her hands. “I thought you had something serious to tell me, like you found the shot glass when you asked me over here today. Instead, you’ve been talking to soothsayers.”
“He wasn’t a soothsayer,” Sam said. “He was a psychic.”
“Sorry for getting those two things mixed up,” Casey said, rolling her eyes. “You’re in a vulnerable state right now. You can’t let yourself believe these things because you’d like them to be true.”
She put a hand on Sam’s arm and tempered her tone.
“Molly’s gone,” she said. “I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. She’s never coming back.”
“No…” Molly said.
She was standing over them, watching with her arms around her stomach. She felt like her heart was caving in. After everything she’d been through, after everything she’d done to get Sam to believe, now her best friend was undermining it all.
“Casey, I’m right here!” Molly said. “I’m right here!”
“Let me ask you one thing,” Casey said. “How much did he ask from you?”
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