by Amy Ravenel
She had never seen the scene of her brother Jason’s death, but she imagined it looked much like the one she and Drew drove into. Police lights flashing, and a crowd gathered at one end of the parking lot.
Jason had died there ten years earlier, the same building and the same way. Over the years, people insisted he had committed suicide. Even McKenna’s own parents came to believe the theory, convinced he couldn’t handle his empathic gift. For years, McKenna believed it, too. She was terrified the empathy would drive her to the same fate. Then, three years ago, she had found a journal her brother kept buried in the back of a closet her parents never bothered to clean out. Through that, she saw how much he actually liked his power, how it helped him understand how other people saw the world. She had smiled. She could see Jason trying to help other people.
When she had turned into the apartment’s lot, Drew jumped out of the car before it stopped. Worried, she ran after him, pushing through the crowd. The swirl of emotions slammed into her – peaked curiosity, utter shock, naked disgust. Kayla’s raw grief was the strongest, and McKenna stumbled beneath it. She gasped, a black ball of sadness in her heart.
It reminded her of Jason’s funeral. All the feelings of her family and friends caved in on her until she had to hide in her bedroom. She was a grieving fourteen-year old who had no idea how to control it all. Thank God for her grandmother, a woman who understood and stayed with her the whole time. To this day, McKenna didn’t know how her grandma blocked all of the emotions in that house and still stood.
Kayla’s story had her wondering if there were more to Jason’s death. In her line of work, she had never seen anyone more convinced they had seen a ghost, or that the ghost had actually killed someone. She wasn’t sure about the last part. She had never seen a ghost kill someone, but then, she had only been with Restless Spirits for a year.
At the police station, McKenna had to stay in the waiting room while Kayla was taken into the back for questioning. She could’ve told them Kayla didn’t do this. Her friend’s grief and pain were all too real. The emotions bled through her shields. They were raw and fresh and powerful. So much, in fact, that she couldn’t ease them.
Kayla’s sister Angela arrived in record time. McKenna told her everything before heading to her own apartment to get some sleep.
After dropping Drew off at his car the next day, McKenna wasn’t sure where to go. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment, even though her cat Oscar would greet her. No. She needed the mountains and the fresh air. So, she found herself driving north on the Blue Ridge Parkway.
She didn’t expect to see a green truck parked in her favorite overlook spot near Mt. Pisgah. Pulling in beside it, she saw the man sprawled out on the hood, his eyes closed. His long legs hung off the end and dangled above the ground. For a second, she thought about driving away. She really wasn’t in the mood for conversation. When he turned his head and opened his eyes, though, she recognized him. Tristan. She had only met him for a short time that morning, but she remembered unruly black curls, the golden-brown skin, and those light green eyes.
When she stepped out of the car, he sat up. She held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Tristan shook out his curls. “It’s okay. Didn’t expect to see you.”
McKenna slid onto the hood of her car, welcoming the heat. “It’s my favorite spot, especially when there aren’t that many tourists out and about.” The sun warmed her face. “Less people to deal with.”
A corner of Tristan’s mouth lifted. “I know what you mean.” He rested his forearms on his knees. “Drew get home all right?”
“He went straight into the office before I left.”
“Sounds like him. Tinkering with things. That’s how he deals.”
McKenna studied the beautiful man beside her. So much sadness lingered around him, and she didn’t think it was all from Zack’s death. Something about him made her want to shelter him from the world.
Tristan cocked his head, those green eyes trained on her. “So, are you and Drew together?”
A laugh escaped her. “Oh, no. Drew is a little too wide open for my taste.” She leaned back and took in the view. A cool breeze blew her hair into her eyes. “We work together.”
“Ah, you hunt ghosts, too.”
“I do.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, choosing to ignore the disdain in Tristan’s voice. “Never thought I would, but it seems like it’s a good fit. You?”
“Teaching history to college freshmen.”
“Really? They certainly didn’t make history professors that look like you when I was in college.” McKenna raised an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you this much. If you were my history professor, I wouldn’t hear a word you say.”
Tristan threw back his head and laughed. His grief lifted for a moment, and that made McKenna’s heart swell. Exactly the reaction she wanted. His laugh was long and loud, and it brightened his whole face. He didn’t look as serious. She chuckled along with him.
“We’ll see how it goes,” he said. A moment passed and the sadness crept back in. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
McKenna didn’t say anything. She didn’t offer condolences, remembering how sick she got of hearing the phrase after Jason died.
Tristan met her eyes. “You work with ghosts. Do you think it’s possible a ghost killed him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know enough about them.” She shifted on the hood. “I’ve seen them throw things and push people, but I’ve never seen them kill. But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”
Tristan nodded. “I’d like to know what happened.”
“I think Drew wants to know, too.” She waited a beat. “Maybe the same thing happened to my brother.”
“He died the same way?”
“In the same building. Ten years ago.”
“Your brother was one of the three suicides?” Tristan asked.
McKenna’s mood darkened. “It wasn’t suicide.”
Tristan nodded again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole.”
McKenna lay down on the hood, letting the silence stretch between them. It wasn’t awkward, but companionable. It had been a while since she felt this comfortable with a stranger. After a weird night, it was what she needed.
After a while, she cleared her throat. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No. I think I forgot to grab breakfast.”
McKenna hopped off her hood. “Come on, I’ll buy you some lunch.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders. She wasn’t ready to let this man go, not yet anyway.
“Where did you have in mind?”
She smiled. “Follow me.”
Tristan settled in his seat across from McKenna at the Pisgah Inn restaurant. They sat next to a wall of windows, the bluish mountain range stretched out before them. He sipped his drink as he focused on the story McKenna was telling. It was a welcome distraction.
McKenna’s smile seemed to make the place, hell, the whole world, better. Her nose wrinkled when she laughed, and she couldn’t seem to eat without dropping food into her lap. It was the most adorable thing Tristan had ever seen.
Leaning over her half-finished plate, McKenna waved her hands as she spoke. “So, there we are at the breakfast table. The empty milk carton hanging from my fingers, and the front of Jason’s shirt dripping.” She fell back into her chair, her laughter ringing in the half-empty place.
“For a six-year old, you were pretty determined.” Tristan finished off his glass of Pepsi.
“Yes, I was. He had it coming.” She sighed. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“No. Only child. Although, Drew, Zack, and I got into some pretty sticky situations.” It hurt to think about Zack. All he could see was his best friend lying on the ground, dead eyes staring at the sky.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, you have to tell me embarrassing stories
about Drew. It’ll make my day.” He let her distract him from the pain.
“Let’s see.” Tristan looked out the large wall of windows, trying to think of a good one. “Okay, Drew had this thing for a girl in high school named Samantha. She was gorgeous, tall, and wouldn’t give him the time of day. So, he decided he was going to go all out with a big romantic gesture.”
“Uh oh, I’m afraid of where this might be going.”
Tristan flashed her a grin. “Oh, you’re going to love it.” He moved closer to her and almost forgot what he was saying when he caught her scent. She smelled like an ocean breeze on a summer’s day. He struggled to find his train of thought. “You know how he loves his gadgets, right?”
“I do.”
“Well, he made a robot to bring her flowers and declare his love for her.”
“Did you help him make it?”
“I was up to my elbows in grease and old motor parts.”
McKenna laughed. “I can’t picture it. You, the book nerd, with his hands covered in grease.”
“Oh, it happened. It happened. Anyway, Drew sends the robot into her algebra class, and it does its thing. There’s applause, Samantha’s blushing, all good things. Drew walks in, his chest puffed out, ready to take the credit. But somewhere between the door and her desk, he hit a button on the remote. The robot rolls over to him and pulls his shorts down.”
McKenna’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yeah. Drew is standing in the middle of class in nothing but green boxer shorts.”
“At least he wore boxer shorts.”
“Thank God for small miracles.”
McKenna met his eyes. “Was Zack there?”
Tristan swallowed. “No. We didn’t meet him until college.” The memory of Zack as a straight-laced skinny college student brought a smile to Tristan’s face. “He was our voice of reason. Drew usually came up with a crazy idea, I’d shrug and go along with it, and Zack would tell us why it was a bad idea.”
McKenna rested her chin on her hand. “Did you ever listen?”
“God, no.” Tristan chuckled. “College was about the time Drew got into the whole ghost hunting thing.” He shifted in his seat as he launched into the story. “You know the Devil’s Tramping Ground, right?”
McKenna sipped her iced tea. “Absolutely. A circle in the middle of a field where nothing grows, and if you put something in it, it’ll be outside the circle by morning. Aaron’s been trying to get permission to investigate it for a while now.”
“Well, Drew had the terrible idea to spend the night there. He wanted us to tie him down in the middle of the circle to see if he’d move.”
“Oh, that does sound like a terrible idea.”
His mood lifted as he continued. “I backed him up on the idea, but Zack kept listing all the reasons we shouldn’t do it.”
“Was he right?”
“Of course he was right. We were eighteen and stupid.”
“What happened?” McKenna leaned closer.
“For some reason, we put Drew in charge of finding the place. He got us lost in the backwoods of Chatham County. We didn’t realize it until we walked right into the business end of a rifle.”
McKenna’s eyes widened. “Y’all weren’t shot, were you?”
“No, Zack was the one who saved us. He talked our way out of it, and the farmer helped us find our way back to the car. Never did find the tramping ground.” The memory eased some of the pain. He could still see Zack holding his hands up, smooth talking the farmer whose land they had trespassed on.
“What is it?” McKenna asked.
“What?”
“You’ve got a line between your brows. What are you thinking about?”
“Oh.” Tristan pulled himself back to the present. “I was just thinking how easily Zack could always talk his way out of things.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. If someone had broken in last night, and Zack was awake, he would’ve found a way to talk them down. There’d be no reason for throwing him through a window. Out of the three of us, Drew is the most likely to go through a window, not Zack.” He eased back into the chair. “The whole situation doesn’t make sense.”
McKenna’s soft hand laid across his. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t have to. He placed his other hand on top of hers, the contact reassuring.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled. “Give me your phone.” She moved her hand out from between his and reached out. He handed his phone to her, and she punched her number into it. She then took a silly picture of herself to go with it. “In case you need someone to talk to.”
She paid the bill, and the two of them walked out into the parking lot.
“You’ll get through this, Tristan, and the police will find out what happened.” McKenna took his hand.
Tristan found he didn’t want to let her go. “What if Kayla’s right, and the killer is already dead?”
“Then you know who to call.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a Ghostbusters joke?”
“Maybe. But you know some actual Ghostbusters now, don’t you?”
“I guess I do.”
They said good-bye, and he watched her drive away. She was a bright spot in all of this darkness, a bright spot he wanted to see again. But later. He had to take care of his friends. He owed Kayla and Drew so much after the way they took care of him after Wilmington.
He walked to his truck and stopped halfway there, a realization hitting him. He had sat all the way through lunch, in a building he hadn’t been inside in years, and not one shade of the past bothered him. He glanced in the direction McKenna went. She was more of a distraction than he thought.
6
Sunday had been rough. He and Drew had spent the day with Kayla, making sure she was handling everything. She was still sad, but she had moved on to anger.
Kayla threw her arms around Tristan and Drew the minute they had walked in the door. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“How are you doing?” Tristan asked when she let go.
She nodded as she stepped into the kitchen. “Two days in, and I’m holding it together.” She picked up a knife and continued to chop the tomatoes she was halfway through. It was a steady rhythm of pop, pop, pop with each cut. “I’m not thinking about it. I won’t let myself think about it.” The rhythm slowed. “If I let myself think about it…” Her shoulders shook, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Hey, we’re going to figure this out.” Drew rubbed her shoulder.
Tristan leaned on the counter. “Any news from the police?”
“Other than me being suspect number one, nothing.” The chopping went faster. Pop, pop, pop became bang, bang, bang. “They haven’t found any evidence that I did it, but they don’t want me to leave town.”
Tristan’s heart broke for her. “I’m sorry. Is there anything we can do?”
The knife stilled. Kayla lifted her head, her dark eyes meeting his. “There is something you can do.”
“Anything.”
“You won’t like it.” She held his gaze.
Dread filled his whole body. “You want me to look for her, don’t you?”
Kayla dropped the knife and grabbed his hand like a lifeline. “You can see who she was, what she wants.”
“Kayla, I don’t know the first place to start. Hidden Forest is twenty years old. A lot of people have passed through that building since then. Finding one person’s past isn’t easy, and you know my control sucks. Remember what happened in Wilmington?” He recalled the anger that raged inside of him. Karie’s screams still rang in his ears. The visions had been full of violence and terror, taking him over completely. Even his shields cracked underneath the emotions from long ago. He couldn’t trust himself, and he refused to put anyone else in harm’s way.
She let go of his hand, turned, and chopped faster. “I can’t believe you won’t try to help me.” She plopped another tomato on
the cutting board. “Nobody wants to help me. Not you, not the police. My own sister doesn’t even believe me.”
Kayla’s eyes filled with tears, and Tristan crumbled beneath the sight. When Zack had introduced her to him and Drew, he wasn’t sure how well she might fit in with their small group. But over the years, she had become like a sister to him. She was in so much pain. Dashing her hopes wasn’t an option. He sighed. “I’ll try. I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try when the police clear out.”
Kayla wiped her eyes. “Thank you.”
Drew moved between them. “In the meantime, my team and I can look for proof.”
Hope sprang into Kayla’s face. She stopped cutting the tomato and laid the knife down. “Drew, I didn’t even think. Of course.”
“You’ve both seen her so there’s bound to be a trail Restless Spirits can follow.”
Kayla’s brow creased. “I don’t know how much I can pay you.”
“We’ll worry about that later. I’ll talk to Aaron, work something out.”
Kayla blinked back tears and her features hardened. “I just want to find that ghost and send her back to whatever hell dimension she came from.” She picked up the knife and stabbed the tomato.
Monday morning came early. Tristan covered his head, blocking out the rays of the advancing sunlight. Despite what he was feeling, he had to face the real world again. This time, though, he welcomed his work and his classes.
He had made promises to himself. Promises he desperately wanted to keep. But in the face of tragedy, it was hard to hold onto them.
He sighed as he pushed back the covers and stared at the ceiling. Ice-cold air kissed his skin, his breath making small white clouds. Was the air conditioner on too high? He swung his feet to the floor and froze.
The White Lady stood at the end of his bed. Her hair fell in rings down her back, unmoving. Her green eyes watched him, studied him. Her entire body and her dress glowed white while her features were hard to distinguish. The cold kissed Tristan’s skin as he narrowed his eyes.
“What do you want?” His voice came out steady, but he shook all over.