White Spirit

by Amy Ravenel

  Tristan licked his dry lips. “I found out more about the hair bow.”

  “You did? Did it belong to that Lily girl?” Dr. Smith looked away.

  “It did.” Tristan paused. How was he going to get this man to his apartment? He hadn’t believed him the last time he mentioned The White Lady. The door was open right behind him. He could leave, call the police. Call McKenna. And then what? He had no proof that Dr. Smith had killed anyone. All he had was a psychic vision in his head. No, it was up to Tristan to get the older man to Hidden Forest. He was the last piece. His presence would draw the ghost like Martin’s and Cameron’s had. He fisted his hands. “Her name was Lily Comer, and she was murdered in the woods behind my apartment building twenty years ago.”

  Smith stilled. He lifted his head. “Who killed her?” His voice was low.

  “You did, sir.” Johnson, I hope you know what you’re doing, he thought.

  “Close the door, Mr. Johnson.” Smith stood. A drawer scraped open.

  The door clicked closed. Tristan left his hand on the doorknob.

  “Now.” Smith walked around his desk, a small gun in his hand. “How do you know all this? And be careful how you answer. Accidents can happen.” He kept the gun at his side, the muzzle pointed to the floor.

  Tristan raised an eyebrow. Who keeps a gun in their desk drawer? He hadn’t planned for that development. He gripped the knob. “I’ve got proof. At my apartment.”

  Smith cocked his head. “Then why are you telling me? Why not go to the police?”

  “I didn’t…I didn’t want it to be true.” Tristan thought fast. Lying had never been his specialty, but he had to bring Smith to The White Lady. It was the only way to finish this. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to ignore the flutter in his gut. Sweat broke out along his brow. He fought to keep his voice steady. “I wanted you to tell me I was wrong.”

  “Well.” Smith cradled his gun as he approached Tristan. “I guess you made the wrong choice.” He pressed the muzzle into Tristan’s side. “Let’s go get it.”

  “You know, you don’t have to babysit me. I’ll be fine.” Drew pulled his gaze away from his computer game. “Besides, Mom’ll be back soon.” His color was better, not as pale. His hazel eyes were brighter. The rest overnight seemed to have done him a world of good.

  McKenna glanced up from the notes she had been taking. “I’m not babysitting you. I’m keeping you company.” She propped her chin with her hand. “Besides, Tristan will be here any minute.”

  She reached out to his emotions. His pain was a steady ache, but he was in good spirits. He was taking his aggression out on the evil assassins in the video game he played. McKenna breathed a sigh of relief.

  The first time she had seen him after the attack, she found it hard to process what happened. His back was covered in cuts while his left side was black and blue. His arm was sprained, and he had needed stitches on his legs. He was in so much pain he was projecting it. McKenna had had to strengthen her shields in order to help get him and Tristan out of the apartment.

  Drew nodded at the notebook. “What are you writing?”

  “I’m trying to organize all the notes on this case.” She tapped the end of her pen on her notebook. “If Tristan would get here already, we’d have the final piece of the puzzle.”

  Drew saved his game and closed the laptop. “What do you mean?”

  “Tristan saw the killer.”

  “What?” He sucked in a breath when he jerked his side too fast. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. He used the hair bow to hang on to the vision. He wanted to do it for you.”

  “Damn it, it’s not his fault. It’s not like he asked the ghost to drain him.” He scowled as he snuggled deeper into his pillow. “He has the whole martyr thing down. You both do. Does that come with the whole psychic thing?”

  “Maybe.” McKenna turned back to her notes.

  Quiet filled the room before Drew broke it. “I’m glad he met you.”

  McKenna met his eyes. “You are?”

  “Yeah.” Drew grinned. “I should have introduced you two sooner, but he didn’t want anybody else to know he was psychic.”

  “He said you always knew.”

  He ran a hand over his laptop. “Yeah, I was there the first time he saw something. We were in class, and he went white as a sheet. His eyes glazed over. For a second, I thought he stopped breathing. And then he jumped up and started screaming. Scared the crap out of me.”

  “He said you stayed.”

  “I did. Hell, we’d been friends since fourth grade. He made me feel better every time my dad came home drunk. His parents gave me a place to stay. I wasn’t going to bail.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know his dad tried to help him control it, but…”

  McKenna set her notebook and pen aside. Her heart ached for two boys who had no one but each other to rely on. “He wanted to ignore it.”

  “Yeah. I think his dad took him to past crime scenes to see if he could see anything. Tristan hated those.”

  “What about when Zack came into the mix?”

  “Zack was the nicest guy in the world. Tristan didn’t trust him, but I took to him pretty quick. Oh, Tristan got so pissed when we got into the whole ghost-hunting thing. Zack used to do it with me. I don’t blame him. Every time he walks into a building he’s never been to before, he sees its past. I don’t know how he deals. That would drive me nuts.”

  “It sounds like you two really trust each other.”

  “We do.” Drew’s eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. “Didn’t you say he’d be here this afternoon?” He gestured at it with his thumb. “It’s coming up on two o’clock.”

  “Yeah,” McKenna’s brow furrowed. “Maybe he’s running late.”

  Drew arched an eyebrow. “Tristan rarely runs late.” He nodded to her phone. “Call him.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. Tristan had said he would be coming, but he hadn’t given a specific time. She pulled up his name and hit the call button. The other end seemed to ring forever until the voice mail picked up. She disconnected. “If he’s planning to meet us, he would answer the phone, right?”

  “What’s wrong?” Tabitha walked through the door with Aaron and Kayla right behind her. A fast food bag dangled from her hand.

  “Tristan isn’t answering his phone, and he’s not here yet.”

  Drew winced as he struggled to sit. He closed his eyes for a minute, trying to catch his breath. “Tristan is the king of guilt. He thinks me getting hurt is his fault.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron replied.

  Realization dawned on Kayla’s face. “He’d try to keep us out of this if he could.” She wiped her face. “He’d try to find a way to stop the ghost on his own.”

  “What?” McKenna tightened her grip on the cell phone. “He said he thinks he knows who the killer is. That means he’d go after him alone.”

  Drew worked at the tape holding his IV in place. “We’ve got to go find him. Somebody help me up.”

  McKenna touched his arm. “You’re not going anywhere. We can find him.”

  Drew groaned. “He’s going to get his stupid ass killed. Let me help.”

  “You won’t do any good in your condition.” Tabitha shoved the bag of food at McKenna. “Eat fast, girl.” She turned to Kayla. “Stay here and make sure this idiot doesn’t get out of bed.” She then set her sights on Aaron. He already had his car keys in his hand.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  25

  “That’s it, son. Nice and slow.”

  Tristan’s side hurt from the hard gun muzzle pressed into it. Smith kept it hidden under his coat, but his face never once betrayed it. He draped his free arm around Tristan’s shoulder and informed anyone who asked that Mr. Johnson was a good man to help an old professor to his car. Anytime Tristan tried to deviate from the script, Smith pushed the gun harder into Tristan’s ribs.

  “You’re quite the young actor,” Smith commented as they crossed
the street. “Maybe I’ll keep you around. Depends on how I feel.”

  “Glad I could help,” Tristan answered through clenched teeth.

  They made their way across the parking lot and into Hidden Forest. The trek up the stairs was slow, but Tristan hoped it would be worth it. He hadn’t planned his next move. He wasn’t even sure The White Lady would appear. After all, it was close to two, and the earliest he had ever seen her was around six.

  His phone rang in his pocket. His hand moved to pull it out, but Smith jabbed him with the gun. “Keep walking.” He did as he was told.

  He opened the door to his apartment. Smith urged him forward and shut the door behind them. The older man dropped the pretense and his coat. The gun stayed where it was.

  “All right, son. Where is this evidence?” Smith narrowed his eyes.

  “I lied.” Tristan kept his eyes forward, praying the ghost would somehow know her killer was here. “I don’t have any evidence.”

  Smith cocked the gun. “Then why are we here?”

  Tristan waited. “You can show up now,” he muttered. Nothing. The room stayed warm. The electricity remained on. His heart beat in his ears. He was going to die, and nobody knew what he had done. His phone rang again.

  “Blasted things.” Smith yanked it out of Tristan’s pocket. He tossed it to the floor and crushed it under his shoe. “You know, I think we should move out to the woods. Less chance of bothering your neighbors.”

  Tristan turned. “Don’t you want to see her again?”

  “What?”

  “The legend. The White Lady of Hidden Forest. It’s not a story students made up to explain the mysterious deaths. She’s real, and she’s Lily.” Stall. He had to stall. If Lily was anywhere in this building and she still had the energy she had taken from him, she’d be there. For once, Tristan was ready for her to exact her revenge. And he was more than happy to help her do that.

  Smith’s grip tightened on the gun. “For twenty years nobody knew about Lily. She was my own secret.” His shoulders sagged as his eyes appeared to soften.

  Tristan didn’t hide his surprise. “Did you know her spirit was haunting this building, killing people?”

  Smith chuckled. “I didn’t believe it at first. The White Lady, what a legend. But when that first boy died this year, I started to wonder.” He looked at the ceiling. “I drove by one night and saw her in one of the windows. She was gorgeous. And I thought, she can be mine, like she always should have.” His features hardened. “Then you started asking questions.” The gun shook in his hand. “Well, no more.”

  “Dr. Smith, I don’t have any proof. Who would I tell? Nobody would believe me. Let me go.” Tristan walked backwards to his kitchen counter. He felt around for a knife, hoping he’d left one on the counter.

  “Oh, where’s the fun in that?” Smith pointed the gun at Tristan. “How else could I watch you die? You know, that was the best part about killing Lily, watching her die. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. In a way, I preserved a piece of history.” He aimed. “She’ll never grow old, and she’ll stay here with us forever. Now.” His voice dropped. “Let’s take a walk.”

  The room became so cold that Tristan’s breath puffed out in tiny white clouds. Goosebumps traveled along his arms, and the hair on the back of his neck stood. Female laughter filled the room. Lily formed right behind Smith, her terrible beauty glowing brightly. Smith glanced behind him.

  “Came to watch, have you, dear?” he asked.

  Screaming, she sailed towards him, only to pass right through. No! She touched everyone else, including him. Why couldn’t she touch Smith? Tristan didn’t have time to think about it. He dove for Smith. The gun went off.

  The loud crack of a gun stopped McKenna in her tracks. “No. Oh, God, no.” She pushed through all the emotions swarming the building – joy, sadness, frustration – until she found the blackness of intense hate. She gasped, grabbing her right leg. Pain traveled along her thigh.

  Tabitha dropped beside her. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

  McKenna shook her head. “No, but I think Tristan is.” She opened up, locking on the pain. He was there, and if he was shot in the leg, he was momentarily still alive.

  Aaron took off up the stairs, his steps pounding and his long legs taking two at a time.

  “Can you walk?” Tabitha’s concern warred with the pain for McKenna’s attention.

  “I’ll be fine. Right behind you.”

  She closed her eyes, willing herself to push past the pain and run. Tristan was here; he had to be. But how long would he stay alive?

  The drive to the building was excruciating. McKenna had called one more time, only to be sent to voice mail. She shivered at the thought of Tristan facing Lily’s killer on his own. Why would he do that? What was his plan? Did he even have a plan?

  She ascended the stairs two at a time. The bitter cold on the third floor took her breath away. They weren’t alone. Aaron rammed his shoulder into Tristan’s door as she reached them.

  “Locked?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” Aaron grit his teeth. “The knob won’t turn.”

  “I think the ghost has the Do Not Disturb sign up,” Tabitha said.

  “No!” McKenna banged on the door. “Lily! Let us in! You have to let us help him!” Her leg throbbed. Her heart ached. No! She had just found him; she refused to lose him now. Her fists pounded the door. “Lily, please!”

  The door remained closed.

  Tristan’s leg throbbed with sharp pain. He sucked in air, stars popping up across his vision. Wet and sticky liquid bubbled out of the wound. Trying to ignore it, he pulled himself up. The gun had clattered to the floor, and his eyes searched for its landing spot. It rested near a book shelf on the other wall.

  Tristan’s tried to crawl to it, but Dr. Smith was faster. He leveled the gun. “I wanted to do this outside, but I guess we have no choice now, do we?”

  Someone banged on his door. The wood rocked against the force. Quiet. Another bang. Voices argued. Then someone pounded on the door. “Lily! Let us in!” Tristan’s eyes widened. McKenna! No! She wasn’t supposed to be there.

  Tristan crawled to the wall, waiting for Smith’s bullet. His leg ached. Lily couldn’t seem to touch Smith. His eyes darted to the glowing specter. Rage filled her face, her eyes glowing red. What had happened to the energy she had the night before? She had no problem taking out Mr. Martin and trying to take out Dr. Cameron? But neither one of them had actually taken her life. When she died, Lily had wanted more strength to fight off Dr. Smith.

  That’s what the psychic energy was for her—strength. Tristan raised his hand to Lily, and time seemed to slow down.

  “Take it,” he said. “Take all you need.”

  Lily darted passed Dr. Smith. She grabbed Tristan’s head and pulled. Her touch was still cold, but it didn’t feel like a bucket of ice. He fed her energy, and it flowed from him like a fountain. His body grew weaker while Lily glowed brighter, her body solidifying. The edges of his vision dimmed and his injury hurt. The wet blood ran through his jeans, soaking them. If he was going to die anyway, he might as well take Dr. Smith with him.

  The door swung open. McKenna stumbled through. Her breath caught as she watched the scene in front of her.

  Lily let go of Tristan’s head. In a flash, she grabbed an older man’s throat. His feet left the floor and his grip loosened on a gun. It rattled on the hardwood floor. He swung his legs, dangling like a fish from her grasp.

  “Lily, I never meant to hurt you. I love you,” he choked out.

  Lily cocked her head to the side. “You have to pay.” In the blink of an eye, she threw him through the sliding glass door. He sailed over the balcony, his screams echoing.

  The ghost turned to McKenna and bowed her head. She floated to Tristan, resting her hand on his head. Her glow dimmed as Tristan began to stir. He gasped in a breath, his chest arching. When she released him, she held out her arms. Her glow brightened until she
was engulfed in white light.

  McKenna held up her hands, trying to block out the light. It brightened and was gone in an instant. She searched for any trace of the warm, peaceful emotion she had felt from the ghost, but there was nothing left.

  She ran to Tristan while Tabitha and Aaron raced to the balcony.

  “How are we going to explain this?” Tabitha asked.

  “I’m going to need a drink,” Aaron grumbled.

  McKenna yanked off her jacket and wrapped it around Tristan’s red-soaked leg. He coughed. A lazy grin spread across his pale face. He touched her cheek. “You’re okay.” He was tired, groggy, and in pain, but alive.

  “Don’t ever do that again, do you understand?” she scowled as she dialed the emergency number. She had half a mind to kill him herself.

  “Can’t make any promises.” He slid sideways. “I’m never living in an apartment again,” he said as he laid his cheek on the cool floor.

  26

  Sunlight fell across Tristan’s face, warming his skin. He smiled at McKenna, who held his hand tightly. He nodded encouragement to her. She released his hand and placed the bouquet of flowers on the fresh grave.

  “Rest in peace, Lily,” she whispered.

  “I hope she doesn’t come back,” Drew said. “She packed a mean punch.”

  “Show some respect,” Aaron said as he smacked the back of Drew’s head.

  Tabitha hit Aaron on the shoulder. “He hasn’t been out of the hospital long. Be nice.”

  Tristan couldn’t help but smile wider as he thought about the last week. None of them had any idea how to explain Dr. Smith’s death. When the police and ambulance arrived, they all agreed to tell the truth, no matter what the police believed.

  Detective Thompson swore when he saw who his witnesses were. “You? Again?” He glared at all of them. “You know, I think I’m on a first-name basis with all of you.”

  “Pleased to see you again, Detective Thompson.” Tristan waved from the stretcher.