by Amy Boyles
“I don’t want to speak for you,” he said slowly.
I nodded to the stop sign. “You might want to go before you cause a traffic jam in Haunted Hollow.”
He lifted off the brake, and we cruised on. “Whether you want to admit it or not—and one day I hope you do—your feelings for me have grown. Mine have too. Exponentially.”
“Are you sure you know what that word means?”
We pulled to a stop in front of the Jarvis house. “I know exactly what that word means. It means my heart swells at the sight of you.”
“Do your palms get sweaty?”
He leaned closer. “I break into hives. I try not to scratch them when you’re around so you don’t think I have scabies.”
My lips split into a smile. “I already know you have scabies.”
“That’s okay, I know you love me anyway.”
Before the shock of his words rattled my bones, Roan swooped in for a kiss that made my muscles hiss with pleasure, my blood sing and my head pound.
Every piece of me sank into him. Yet his words swirled in my head. Love. He’d said love.
Wait a minute. He’d said he knew I loved him. He hadn’t even said he loved me.
Seriously? Who did Roan think he was?
I didn’t have time to debate the answer to that with myself because Roan’s lips pulled and tugged.
To be honest, I stopped thinking.
When we parted, all my angry protestations leaped into my mouth. I parted my lips to argue, but Roan’s mouth brushed mine.
“It’s okay, Killer,” he said, referring to his nickname for me, “I love you, too.”
Wait. What? How did we go from ghosts to love? This wasn’t how it’s supposed to happen.
I started to argue with him, but Roan silenced me with a finger to my lips. “Don’t argue. Just sit with it. You think about it too much and you’ll run screaming.” He took my hand and nodded up to the house. “You ready to catch a spirit?”
I forced down all thoughts of Roan’s words and stared at the bleak black empire-style home. I inhaled sharply.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
TWENTY-TWO
The Jarvis family left quietly. I couldn’t have been more thankful that they had listened to me and wanted to avoid any more trouble.
Once the house was empty, our small circle met in the living room.
“We need to split up and search,” I said.
“What if she isn’t here, Blissful?” Alice said.
“Oh, she’s here,” Axel said. “If she’s not here yet, she’s on her way.” His gaze flickered to me. “If Fannie is the person who stole the canister.”
“It’s her.” Ruth spoke with authority. “The way she stared at that tube you would’ve thought she was Indiana Jones and it was the Holy Grail.”
“I’m glad neither of those things are true,” Roan said. All our gazes flickered to him. “Because it would be strange,” he explained. “To find the grail here, you know. Very strange.”
“Everyone have a flashlight?” I said.
“I don’t understand why we don’t just turn on the lights,” Alice whimpered. “So that some of us can see better.”
“If she isn’t here yet, it’ll help us set up places to ambush her,” I explained. “It will be fine. Roan and I will take the basement.”
“Axel and I will take the main floor,” Pepper said.
“That leaves the upstairs to us.” Ruth pointed toward the stairs.
“Why do we get stuck up there?” Panic sparked in Alice’s voice.
I wrapped her in a hug. “You are least likely to run into Fannie being upstairs. She’ll have to go through Axel and Pepper to get to you. Don’t worry. It’s the best place to go. You have the smallest chance of being in the line of fire.”
Alice peeked at me with eyes full of doubt. “Are you sure?”
Ruth clapped her shoulder. “Okay, come on, you big scaredy-cat. Get your flashlight and let’s get up there. Blissful got rid of most of the ghosts, remember? You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” I said encouragingly. “You love ghosts, Alice. I don’t understand what you’re afraid of.”
“I don’t like ghosts who threaten people. That’s my problem. And this place”—she shivered—“it gives me the willies.”
“Let’s go, you big baby,” Ruth grumbled. “I’ll protect you.”
As they walked off toward the staircase, Alice said hopefully, “You will?”
“Sure. Right after I run away from any big ghosts.”
Alice scoffed.
“Yell if you see anything,” I said.
“Will do,” Ruth said.
That left the four of us. “If we find Fannie,” Roan started, “we’ll bring her up here. Hopefully with the Spiritus.”
Axel nodded. “Pepper and I will be on the lookout. If she winds up with us, we’ll get word to you.”
I quirked a brow. “How?”
Axel smiled. “We just will. Be on guard.”
“Be safe, y’all,” Pepper said.
We split up. I led Roan to the basement. If I thought the house was creepy with the lights on, it was downright haunted-house scary with only a flashlight for guidance.
Shadows jumped and crawled across the walls, just beyond the reach of my beam. The air had that clotted, stuffy feeling to it again.
I stopped, sucked in a breath.
Roan’s fingers curled into my shoulder. “What is it?”
“She’s here. Somewhere.”
“How can you tell?”
“I can feel the outer reaches of Jinkins. It’s like he’s just out of my sight. Like we’re both in water and I can almost touch him with my fingers but he keeps slipping just beyond me.”
“Can you tell where?”
I shook my head. “No. The feeling isn’t that strong.” We reached the basement door. “Here’s the basement.”
Roan shielded me from entering. “Let me go first.”
If he wanted to be a big strong man, I would certainly let him. He turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. He took one step. I heard a muffled sound and then watched Roan fall. I gasped and whipped the flashlight to the right.
I had just enough time to see Fannie Sullivan’s twisted face right before something very hard hit me on the head and the world went black.
TWENTY-THREE
I awoke with an angry throb on top of my head. “Oh God. That really hurts.”
I blinked and slowly grabbed my bearings. My hands were wrapped behind me. I dug my fingers into the floor. Sand sifted between them.
The cellar. That’s right. We were downstairs. Where was Roan?
A flashlight clicked on. The dim figure of Fannie Sullivan clomped by. She struck a match. Light flared to life, and the old woman proceeded to ignite the wicks of several candles scattered along wall shelves.
Roan moaned beside me. Thank goodness he was alive. How the heck could an old woman hit so hard?
“It’s the taxidermy, you see. It keeps my strength up. I’m not as frail as I look. The whiskey helps with that, too.”
I opened my mouth to argue that liquor did not a strong body make, but decided against it for reasons of self-preservation.
“We need to make sure Roan isn’t hurt.”
“That man?” She laughed. “He’ll be fine.” Something evil sparked in her eyes. Could’ve been the jaunting shadows, but I didn’t think so.
“There are others here. You’ll be found.”
Fannie shook her head. Wisps of white hair floated around her face, making her look as ghostly as, well, a ghost. “I don’t think so. They didn’t hear either of you when you fell. You’re mine to keep. If you hadn’t been so nosy, you wouldn’t be down here anyway. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Right, blame the victim, lady. Don’t you follow social media? Blaming the victim is not okay.”
Fannie ignored me. Roan moaned again. I nudged my shoulder against him.
“Roan,” I whispered.
“He can’t hear you,” Fannie said in a singsong voice.
“What are you talking about?”
I scanned the room trying to figure out a strategy, a way to break free from the cord around my wrists. Doggone it, that woman wasn’t lying. She was stronger than she appeared.
“The spirit is keeping him asleep. That’s also why no one realizes you’re in trouble.”
I hitched a brow. “Let me guess, because of Jinkins Hudson. That’s why.”
Surprise filled her beady eyes. Fannie’s mouth coiled into a sinister smile. “You know.”
“That you stole my ghost trap holding Jinkins Hudson’s spirit? Yes, I know. But why?”
Fannie thumbed her chest. “Because he owes me. Jinkins owes me.” She smiled wickedly. “That’s why he’s helping me right now.”
“Why does he owe you?”
Had to keep her talking. Fannie might be strong, but she had tied me to a wooden pillar with rough edges. If I could just work my hands up and down without her noticing, maybe the bonds would fray and I’d be free.
Fannie shook an angry fist at the sky. “For everything I endured, he owes me. That man. He promised. Promised I’d be part of the wealth. Promised I’d have my share, and what did he do?”
She waited for me to answer. I clearly had no response since I didn’t know what in the Beelzebub was going on.
“You tell me.”
I felt the rope loosen. I tugged, but it still wasn’t frayed enough for me to break free. What was I going to do then, anyway? Jump on Fannie? That would probably break every osteoporosed bone in her body.
“He stole the money. Stole jewels. Stole everything he could. Most of the time the guests didn’t notice until they were gone. Jinkins would explain that he checked the room but couldn’t find anything. It was all so good until the girl saw him steal. That’s what almost ruined it for us.”
As Fannie spoke, light began to dawn on me. She had said us. Ruin it for us.
My eyes flared. Of course I hadn’t seen it before. Why would I have? Both Hudsons were supposed to be dead. As doornails. Brownie had said so.
“Are you who I think you are?” I peered into the candlelight, trying to get a better glimpse of Fannie.
“She wasn’t called Fannie back then.”
My gaze cut right. Artie sat in the corner, watching. Fannie continued to light candles and hum to herself as Artie spoke.
“I remember now,” he said. “I arrived on business. I was only supposed to be in town one night. I caught Mr. Hudson going through my things. We argued. He pulled a knife and stabbed me right in the gut.”
Artie rubbed a hand down his face. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “She’s standing right on top of what she’s looking for.”
My eyes flared.
Artie nodded to the cellar floor. “The jewels. The money. It’s all under her feet.”
“Fannie,” I said slowly.
“Hmm?” She pulled the Spiritus from her coat pocket and placed it lovingly on the dusty shelf.
Crap. The absolute last thing I needed was for Fannie to crack that open.
“You want the money. The jewels. It’s what Jinkins owed you, isn’t it? For a lifetime of abuse?”
Her shoulders bunched. The heat of her glare nearly seared my flesh right off. “What do you know about it?”
“Only what your great-niece told me. Did you know that? That Brownie Jarvis is your great-niece?”
“Of course I know,” she snapped. “Everyone thinks Deborah Hudson is dead. I am keeping it that way. She is dead, but Fannie Sullivan is alive.”
“You’re alive because you killed Jinkins, aren’t you?”
Fannie’s face crumpled. Her fingers shook as she brushed her hand lovingly over the tube that held her late husband’s spirit.
“We had a bad fight that night. I wanted to know where he’d hidden all the money. It was half mine.” Her voice trembled with anger. “I deserved it. He had no right to keep it from me. We’d killed that poor Menzel girl. She’d discovered part of our stash, you see, when she was cleaning. After the deed was done, I put on her clothes and walked down the street to make the neighbors think she had left. That’s why people saw her outside the house. I pretended to be her.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Molly’s parents—they should’ve known what happened to her. They should have been told, but we kept it from them. Because we’d both been involved.”
Fannie closed her eyes tight. I tugged on the rope once more, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Anyway.” Her lids popped open. “Jinkins and I fought. It was worse than usual. I got the gun. He lunged for me. He would’ve killed me if he could, I knew it. I could see it in his eyes. So I did the only thing I could to survive.”
“You shot him.”
“There was a thunderstorm that night so no one heard the shot.” Her gaze met mine. “I wanted to live.” She exhaled a staggering breath. “So I killed him and left, saying Jinkins was sick and I was taking him to a special hospital. We never came back.”
She cackled at her joke. “Well, he never returned, but I did, but not for many years. By that time I looked different. No one recognized me. All I wanted was that money. When I realized that Jinkins’s spirit was in the house, I did my best to communicate with him. To reach him. To try to convince him to tell me where the treasure was hidden.”
“But he wouldn’t do it,” I answered.
“No.” She clenched her fists. “That man wanted to torture me in death the same way he had in life.” She tapped the trap. “But thanks to you, I’ve got the upper hand. If he wants to be free, he’ll have to tell me.”
“I know where it is.”
She spat. “How could you? You don’t know anything about me, about my family. My shame. My secrets.”
I shot her a hard look. “I found Molly Menzel, remember? I know things. Another one of your victims told me that you’re standing right on top of the treasure. You don’t need to open the ghost trap. Just dig up the treasure, untie me and we can all go our separate ways.”
She laughed. “Go our separate ways?”
Oh, was this not going to be so easy?
Roan moaned again. He stirred but didn’t open his eyes.
“We’re not going our separate ways, dear,” Fannie said. “I’m going to add you to my collection.”
“Of dead people?” Oh Lord. “There are four people upstairs who won’t let that happen. It’ll be impossible for you to get away with that.”
She laughed. “Oh no. I’m going to kill them, too.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy.” She leaned down until we were eye to eye. The smell of whiskey filled my nose. “It’s called self-distinction.”
“I think that’s self-preservation.”
“No matter what it’s called, you know what I mean.”
I suppose that was true.
Fannie crossed to a bedsheet that had been propped up against the wall. She curled her fingers into it. “You won’t be this pretty, but eventually you’ll look just like him.”
She yanked the sheet.
My eyes nearly popped from my head. The taxidermied remains of Jinkins Hudson stared blankly at me.
My dinner roiled in my stomach. Vomit edged up the back of my throat. This was not the time to lose my cool. At all.
I shot a look to the stuffed man. His skin was gray, his features lifeless and weathered like tanned leather, and his skin had a weird waxy coating on it.
“So that’s what happened to Jinkins Hudson.”
“My finest achievement.”
My time was up. I could sense it. Fannie lifted the Spiritus from the shelf.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you about the treasure, but I don’t believe you.” She grinned at the tube. “Now, my love, you will finally tell me everything I want to know. I have power over you. I have your body. You must tell me now!”
Fannie was certifiable to think she could control that evil spirit. She reached to open the cap.
I screamed at Artie. “Don’t let her!”
The spirit launched himself at Fannie, striking the tube from her hand.
“Ah,” she gasped.
Fannie scrambled for the Spiritus. It rolled around the lumpy dirt floor, finally stopping not far from Roan.
Fannie clawed the earth. She almost had it.
I kicked my legs, but I wasn’t close enough to keep her away from the trap.
Just as her fingers dug into the earth inches away, a hand shot out of the darkness.
I gasped. Fannie gasped.
Roan scooped the Spiritus into his hand. “You’re not getting this. Not today.”
He rose.
Are you kidding? He’d freed himself? How the heck had he managed that?
My question was answered when Roan tossed me his pocketknife. He winked. “Think you can cut your binds?”
“Pretty sure.”
I sliced through the rope easily and rose. Roan and I faced off against Fannie.
She glared at us. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”
Roan and I exchanged a look. “It looks like it,” I answered.
“You’re wrong.” Fannie pulled a pistol from her pocket and aimed it at me. “Now, young man. Hand me that tube or your girlfriend is dead.”
“No, Roan,” I pleaded.
He didn’t even blink. “Sorry, Blissful. But you’re more important.”
He handed the Spiritus to Fannie. She took a step back and cracked the seal.
TWENTY-FOUR
A great black vortex flew from the Spiritus and engulfed the cellar. The house quaked. The gale looked to rip the home to shreds.
Roan grabbed me. “Hang on.”
A shifting black mass loomed overhead. This was it. Fannie moved toward the thing, but I pushed her aside.
“Jinkins Hudson, you must leave. You must go to the light!”
Or wherever his afterlife was going to take place.
The mass tightened. The lines sharpened, and a person unfolded from the fog like a blossoming rose.