White Spirit

by Amy Ravenel

  She said nothing.

  “What did you do to me? Why didn’t you kill me?” He slid back against his headboard. “Why did you kill Zack instead?”

  Her face was stone. “You feel the same.” Her voice was light, emotionless.

  “The same as who?”

  Her eyes flashed red. “You all have to pay.” Her mouth curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach her empty eyes. Her hair lifted off her shoulders as she floated higher. Throwing her head back, she let out an ear-piercing scream.

  Tristan covered his ears, his heartbeat spiking. His ears throbbed as the scream continued. Then it stopped, leaving deafening silence in its wake.

  He kicked at the covers wrapped around his legs. Get out! Get out now! Every part of him was on high alert.

  The bed lifted off the ground and shook. Tristan gripped the sides, hanging on for dear life. His bones rattled. Breath rushed out of him. This was it. The legend was true. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready. He braced, preparing for her to throw him out the window.

  The White Lady lowered her head and the bed crashed to the ground.

  Tristan’s jaw ached from grinding his teeth together. Every part of him was rattled. He opened his mouth to answer her, but she was gone before he could.

  The room warmed, but he sat there, shivering. What the hell was that? He let go of the bed and dropped his bare feet to the freezing floor.

  Tristan strolled into his office, trying to forget the morning’s encounter. He thought about calling Drew several times, but how did he explain that the ghost who may or may not have killed his best friend was stalking him. He chose to ignore it and focus on his lesson plans. Lessons pushed all other thoughts of The White Lady and Zack’s death out of his mind.

  “Tristan!” Jaime jumped from her window desk. She met him in the doorway. “Thank God you’re okay. I was worried sick when I heard about the guy who was killed over at the Hidden Forest apartments this weekend. Didn’t you say you live over there?” She hugged him before he could stop her.

  “I’m okay. It wasn’t me.” He wiggled out of her embrace and took in a breath of fresh air. Dropping his bag on his desk, he sank into his chair. He wasn’t ready for this conversation. He swallowed. “It was my best friend Zack.”

  She sat down across from him. “I’m so sorry. Does anyone know how it happened?”

  “No. The police haven’t found anything yet.”

  Jaime rubbed her arms. “That’s terrifying. I’ve heard that building’s cursed. How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  She patted his hand. “Are you sure?”

  He forced a smile. “Yeah.” Her expression told him she didn’t think he was serious. He pulled his hand out from under hers. “I promise.”

  “I’m here if you need to talk.” Her tone was sincere.

  “Thank you.”

  She stood. “I’m going to grab a Mountain Dew from the machine. Need anything?”

  “Some coffee?”

  “You got it.” She sauntered out of the room.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  Tristan turned his head, searching for the source of the voice. His heart picked up as he gripped the arms of the chair. Pressure built against his psychic walls. She was back, the girl he kept seeing. But this time, urgency came with her. See. See. You have to see. Against his better judgment, he lowered his shield.

  The room shifted.

  He looked out across the classroom. Evening had settled in outside the window, and the room was empty, except for one remaining student. She walked to the desk and perched on the corner. His whole body yearned for her as her lips kissed his. Something in the back of his mind screamed about how wrong this was, but he didn’t want to let go of her.

  She slid back, her heavy lids shadowing her eyes. She beamed, the smile on her face lighting up the whole room.

  “Come on, tell me you love me.” She ran a hand through his hair. He moaned. “You never say it out loud.”

  He wrapped his fingers around her hand, removing it from his hair. He moved his chair back. “You know I can’t. We can’t. There are too many eyes here.” She had to stay a secret. His secret.

  She pouted. “Then where?”

  “I might know a place.”

  Someone squeezed Tristan’s shoulder. He started, torn between what was real and what was the vision. The girl and the feelings that weren’t his own disappeared into mist, leaving the office the way he remembered it. He blinked a few times, struggling to put his mental walls into place. The hand on his shoulder steadied him.

  Dr. Ian Cameron looked down at him with concern. “Mr. Johnson, are you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you. I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

  Tristan ran a hand through his hair. He breathed in and out, steadying his pumping heart. He stood. “I’m okay, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “I wanted to come by and see how you were doing. I ran into Ms. Liu in the hall. She told me you lost a friend this weekend. I’m sorry for it.” Cameron settled on the edge of the desk. He was a tall, lanky man with salt and pepper hair and wrinkles in the corners of his hazel eyes.

  Tristan blinked. “Thank you, sir.”

  Cameron’s eyes grew serious. “Seems like that building’s never had any luck. Almost like it was cursed from the beginning.”

  “Jaime said the same thing. What are you talking about?”

  Cameron faced the rest of the room. “Have you heard of the three young men who died there ten years ago?”

  “Yes, sir. I heard they all committed suicide, but that’s all I know.” Tristan settled into his seat, wondering where this was going. His knees still shook from the vision.

  “It was strange and tragic, really. All three happened within weeks of each other. The police never found out why they took their own lives.” Cameron shook his head. “If I remember correctly, each one jumped out the window.”

  Tristan swallowed. “Like Zack.”

  “The troubles didn’t start there. My friend Paul Martin owns Hidden Forest, and his company had the devil of a time building that place. They’d put up a wall one day and find it knocked down the next. Took him forever to finish it.” The older man pulled his eyes away from the far wall. “People tried to talk him out of finishing it, but he was like a man obsessed.”

  “What was there before Hidden Forest?” Tristan leaned forward.

  “Woods, mostly. I think kids used to go out there and throw parties.” Cameron chuckled. “I was too old to attend them.”

  Tristan raised an eyebrow. “How old were you?”

  “Thirty. A young and naive professor, making his way through his first year.” The older man stood. “But enough about me. If you need anything, maybe some time off, you let me know.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will.”

  After Cameron left, Tristan sat back in the chair. Nothing had been in the space Hidden Forest currently occupied. Had she lived there, the woman who became The White Lady? But apparently only three men had died there before Zack. No women. Where had The White Lady come from? He opened an empty document on his computer and jotted down questions. Who was The White Lady? Who had to pay? Why did they have to pay? And why did she keep stalking him? All questions he planned to send to Drew.

  The memory of her eerie green eyes came back to him. He stopped typing. Her green eyes. He remembered the girl in his office visions. She had green eyes, too. But hers were a darker color and much warmer. She couldn’t be the same woman, could she?

  He ran a hand over his face. Lack of sleep and grief were getting to him. He was leaping to conclusions and trying to connect a random vision that didn’t have anything to do with his apartment building. A headache pounded against his temples as he dropped his head onto his desk.

  The strong, warm smell of coffee permeated his senses. He lifted his head to see Jaime smile at him.

  “This should help. Coffee makes everything better.”

  He acc
epted it. “More than you know.”

  7

  McKenna regarded the wealthy older lady sitting across the desk from her. Dressed in a navy-blue pantsuit with white hair framing her features, Mrs. Williams appeared regal and elegant. Despite her stoic looks, she was an emotional mess. Sadness and grief came off the woman in waves.

  McKenna fought to mentally block out the emotions. “Let me get this straight, ma’am. You say your dog is haunting you?”

  “Do I look like I am making this up, young lady? Yes, Fluffy is haunting me. He won’t let go.” Mrs. Williams’s voice broke on the last word.

  McKenna handed her a box of tissues. Mrs. Williams took one and dabbed at her eyes. “How long has this been going on?” McKenna kept her features as neutral as possible. The client must never see judgement in your face. They were searching for a sympathetic ear and for someone to believe their claims.

  “It started two weeks ago.” Mrs. Williams clutched the tissue. “I thought I was imagining things at first. I felt him crawl into my lap and, every once in a while, I heard him whimper. But last night, I saw him. I saw my Fluffy lying in his little bed.” Her brown eyes widened. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  Mrs. Williams’s melancholy pushed against McKenna’s mental shields. She shoved back, trying to keep it from overwhelming her. It wouldn’t do any good to cry in front of the client. Too much sympathy was a little weird. “No, ma’am. Sometimes the bond between an owner and a pet is so strong, the pet might keep an eye on the owner long after it’s gone.” McKenna walked around the desk and sat down in the chair next to the potential client. She patted the older lady on the hand. “Maybe if you open your home to another dog, Fluffy will know you’re okay and can move on?”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.” Mrs. Williams took McKenna’s hand. “My dear, do you think you can lay him to rest?”

  “I can’t make any guarantees, ma’am. It depends on why he’s holding on. But I can bring the case to my boss and see what he thinks.” McKenna hurt so much for this woman that she considered sending calming emotions to her. However, she knew her grandmother would cluck her tongue in disapproval. No, she had to take care of this the normal way. Mrs. Williams had to find her own calm.

  “Oh, my dear, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Mrs. Williams pulled McKenna into a hug.

  “You don’t owe us anything today, ma’am. Consultations are free.” She patted the older lady’s back. “As soon as I know whether we’re taking the case or not, I’ll call and work out a schedule and a price.”

  The door to the right of the front desk clicked open. McKenna looked up to see Aaron peek his head out. She didn’t have to read him to know what he was feeling. His light brown eyes expressed concern.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  McKenna nodded as she untangled herself from the hug. “We’re finishing up.” She turned back to Mrs. Williams. “Do you need to take some time? Maybe visit the restroom?”

  Mrs. Williams stood, her back ramrod straight. “No, I’ll be fine. You’ve given me hope.” She held McKenna’s hand and reached for Aaron’s with the other. “Thank you. Both of you.” She let go of Aaron, and McKenna led her to the front glass door.

  “Have a nice day, ma’am,” McKenna said as Mrs. Williams left the office. After the older lady left, McKenna closed the door and faced her boss.

  “Fluffy?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

  “Another pet case.”

  Aaron nodded. “It pays the bills.”

  The bell over the door rang again. McKenna’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Tristan walk in behind Kayla. Drew had told her that Kayla would be coming by that afternoon, but she didn’t think Tristan would join her. What a pleasant surprise.

  She soaked him in. “We keep meeting like this.”

  The corner of Tristan’s mouth turned upward. Was that a hint of happiness she felt, or was she hoping he felt the same way? “We do.”

  Pushing her own feelings aside, McKenna hugged Kayla. “How are you? We didn’t get a chance to talk before.”

  “I’m hanging in there.” Kayla pulled away. “I know we’re a little early.”

  “You’re fine.” Aaron led Kayla past the desk. “We’re going to meet back here.”

  McKenna walked beside Tristan. “I didn’t expect you to come along.”

  “Kayla asked me to. It’s the least I can do.”

  She picked up a twinge of guilt. What did he have to be guilty for? “I’m sure she appreciates it.” She reminded herself not to pry. If it was none of her business, she needed to stay out of it.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed his lips together and indicated that she enter the room ahead of him.

  According to Drew, Kayla wanted to hire Restless Spirits to investigate The White Lady and her legend. Aaron mentioned he thought it was too soon. The police were only three days into the investigation, and he never liked getting involved with them. No matter how legitimate he tried to make his business, law enforcement never seemed to understand. However, Drew pushed, and Aaron agreed to hear Kayla out.

  The conference room seemed smaller with six people crammed into it. Drew and Tabitha were already seated at the oval-shaped light brown table. McKenna slid into one of the soft black leather chairs across from Drew and Tabitha. Aaron sat next to her while Tristan and Kayla slid into the empty ones at the front.

  Kayla cleared her throat. “Drew told me this isn’t how you normally take on cases.”

  “They usually go through me,” McKenna answered. “But Drew brought this one in. You’re practically family.”

  “Well, thank you.” Kayla shifted in her seat. Her mouth turned down, and she kept her shoulders back. She appeared confident, but a mix of worry, grief, and nervousness surrounded her. McKenna was light-headed from all the emotions.

  Kayla took a deep breath. “The police are still poking around our apartment, and they haven’t released Zack’s body yet.” She swallowed. “But I know they’re not going to find anything.”

  “How do you know?” Tabitha asked.

  “Because I saw the whole thing. I saw that ghost, demon, whatever the fuck she is, pick Zack up and throw him through the window.” Kayla’s temper flared.

  McKenna jerked back at the force of it. She rubbed her head, knowing she was going to need some serious alone time later.

  “What exactly happened?” Aaron’s voice softened.

  “The cold pulled me out of a sound sleep that night. I’m used to the weird temperatures in our building, but this was different. More intense.” Kayla studied the tabletop, her fingers tapping steadily. She lifted her head. “I never saw her before. Only felt the cold air and saw things move. But there she was at the end of our bed.” Her eyes widened. “She was solid. As solid as all of you right here. And Zack stared at her like she was the most amazing thing ever.” She stopped, and her breath shook.

  “Take all the time you need,” McKenna said. Fear mixed in with all of Kayla’s other emotions.

  “It all happened so fast. Her eyes turned red. She grabbed Zack and threw him through the window like he didn’t weigh anything.” Kayla shuddered. “I’ll never forget the sound of that window breaking, nor will I forget how cold her touch was.”

  She swallowed. “I thought I was next. When she turned those red eyes on me, I thought it was all over. But she didn’t do anything. Instead, her eyes changed to green.” She paused, and everything in the room held steady. “She said I was free, and she vanished.”

  All of Kayla’s emotions pounded against McKenna’s wall, one boulder after another. Her muscles tensed as she fought to hold everything together. She didn’t blame her friend; she remembered her anger after Jason’s death, and how no one knew how it happened.

  Kayla continued. “I don’t know much about the building, but I do know the legend of The White Lady. ‘If you see her, you die.’ Other people must have seen her, too.”

  “I saw her.�
� Tristan looked around the room, his eyes stopping on McKenna.

  “When?” McKenna asked.

  “The day I moved in, right before Zack died, and this morning.” He ran a hand through his black curls. “She touched me.”

  Drew pushed away from the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  Drew’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Everything about this ghost is important. You can’t keep stuff like that from me.”

  McKenna breathed in, projected serenity throughout the room, and breathed out. The anger cooled around her. Drew sat back down. Tristan sank into his chair. When everyone relaxed, she spoke. “Let’s all take a minute and focus on the problem at hand.” She crossed her arms. “It doesn’t matter who told who what. What matters now is Kayla is coming to us, and I think we should do everything we can to help her.”

  “I second that,” Drew said.

  McKenna stretched her legs under the table. “Tristan, how did she touch you?”

  He scratched at the dark stubble on his chin. “She touched my face the first day. Then she touched my head the night Zack died.”

  “She didn’t hurt you?” Aaron’s leg shook under the table. His brows dipped as he took notes. A spark of surprise came from his direction.

  “No. She came and she went.”

  “And the third time?” Drew asked.

  “She didn’t touch me at all. She shook the bed, though, and said, ‘You feel the same,’ and ‘You all have to pay.’”

  Drew rubbed his face. “Tristan, you can’t keep shit like that to yourself. It’s important.”

  Tristan leaned forward. “I thought it was in my head.”

  Drew opened his mouth to argue, but then quickly closed it. An unspoken conversation passed between the two friends, and the discussion ended there. McKenna glanced from one to the other. They knew something, but they weren’t willing to share.

  “What does ‘You feel the same’ mean?” McKenna asked.

  “I don’t know.” Tristan shrugged. “None of it makes sense.”