Beyond Dead: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series)

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson

  He peered into the left breast pocket of his jumpsuit at something. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, well what does it track on?” Sabrina asked patiently.

  “I don’t know, I just get the location.” He pulled the device out a little way while looking around to check if there were any other female ghosts that might be his intended recipient. It looked a lot like a small Walkman.

  “Wait.” Sabrina frowned. “Who was it you wanted?”

  He checked his clipboard again. “Sabrina Shaw.”

  “I’ve had such a nightmare morning.” Sabrina shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s me.”

  The boy took a small step back. “Thought you said you’d never heard of her.”

  “Shaw was my ex-husband’s name. I never took it, though, so I don’t know why I’d be registered here as that. And everyone just calls me Bessie.”

  The boy narrowed his eyes at Sabrina but handed over the letter anyway and disappeared.

  I glanced from the letter back to Sabrina. “What was that—”

  The post boy popped up in front of me and thrust a letter at me. “Bridget Sway?” I looked from the letter back to the boy, having no clue what was going on. “Don’t mess me about, lady, just take it.”

  I took the letter and stared at Sabrina, feeling as if I’d missed a huge chunk of conversation that would’ve explained what had just happened.

  “It’s from Debbie on behalf of Eleanor. GA meetings resume tonight at Elderfield Hospital.” Sabrina glanced up from the letter to find me staring at her. “Which one was Debbie again? And why can’t Eleanor send out her own notifications?” Sabrina folded the letter and shoved it into her pocket. Realising I wasn’t answering, she turned to look at me. “What?”

  “Don’t ‘what’ me.” I gestured to the place where the post boy had been standing. “What was all that about?”

  “I was curious as to how they can find us to deliver letters. And how the GBs always manage to pop up at just the right time yet Barry’s mum has been able to avoid them for so long.” Sabrina folded the letter and stuffed it in another pocket. “I think our locations get sent to the device he had. But that still doesn’t explain how the person that sends our locations to him knows where we are.”

  I shrugged, opening my letter to find it was the same as Sabrina’s. “I just assumed they’d use psychics.”

  Sabrina paused. “That’s brilliant. If they can communicate with the dead when they’re alive, tracking people down without the whole alive barrier thing should be no problem for them. I bet that’s how they do it. Now all we need is to confirm it and find a way to block them.”

  “Well, as I currently still have my shroud of death,” I said and checked over my shoulder despite still not being able to see it. “I’m quite happy to be visible to anyone who’s likely to come rushing to my aid. Even GBs.”

  ∞

  Sabrina was waiting for me outside the derelict Edwardian monstrosity that was Elderfield Hospital, our new temporary GA meeting place.

  “Please tell me Debbie got the address wrong?”

  “Nope, this is it.” I squeezed through the gap in the broken, wrought-iron fencing that surrounded the run-down building. “We used to play dare here when I was little. And when I was older we used to play something else.”

  “There are so many beautiful places in this town, and this?” Sabrina pointed to the wreck of a building in front of us, still on the other side of the fence. “This is where you chose to get frisky?”

  “It was the only place you knew you wouldn’t get caught.” I held the loose railing to the side so Sabrina could squeeze through. “And no one really got all that frisky. We really just used to come here to tell ghost stories.”

  Sabrina’s eyes travelled over the front of the building, her mouth turning down at the corners in response. “How apt.”

  “The main one was about—”

  Sabrina cut me off with a wave of her hand. “A nurse who dies in tragic and horrific circumstances?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Have you heard the story?”

  Sabrina gestured to the building. “It’s a hospital. It was either a nurse who’s murdered or a doctor who mutilates people.”

  “I’ve heard both. And many more.”

  All the three floors of windows had long ago lost their glass panes and were now boarded up with sheets of plywood weathered by the passing of numerous seasons. The turrets at either end of the building reminded me of tent poles, and their support was most likely the only reason the centre of the structure wasn’t sagging. The red brickwork was stained black in parts and thick ropes of ivy weaved in and out of any cracks it could find like a nosey snake.

  “Come on inside, you two.” Eleanor waved at us from the doorway. “Always the stragglers.”

  “Is it safe?” Sabrina eyed the building unhappily. “It looks like it should’ve been condemned.”

  “Nothing a good lick of paint wouldn’t fix,” Eleanor called brightly from the vestibule.

  “Yes, a coat of paint will definitely fix the imminent ceiling collapse,” Sabrina mumbled to me and nodded to the right of the roof. “Or the rotten support beams.”

  “This is only for this evening, ladies.” Eleanor ushered us from the entrance hall into the first room on the right. “Merely a temporary measure so none of you get too behind in your acclimatisation studies.”

  Only thin shafts of sunlight from around the boards on the windows and a large oblong of light from the open front door penetrated the gloomy interior. Thankfully the space was empty of any rotting furniture for me to trip over.

  The majority of our group was standing huddled together in the middle of the room like they expected something awful to come leaping out at them at any second.

  “Ghosts scared of ghosts,” Sabrina whispered with an amused shake of her head. “What else do they think is in here?”

  “Ah, okay. I think that’s everyone,” Eleanor announced after completing a quick head count. “Now, I know this isn’t the most ideal of settings,” Eleanor said and several people murmured in agreement. “But I’ve been promised more appropriate accommodation for tomorrow so let’s just make the best of it for tonight, okay?” Eleanor paused and most people nodded, albeit half-heartedly. “Now, partners aren’t necessary for this activity but feel free to buddy up and offer advice to each other.”

  “Are we doing the hand through the wall thing again?” Sabrina asked, which seemed to genuinely please Eleanor.

  “Yes, Sabrina, yes we are continuing with misting.” Eleanor gave Sabrina a wide smile as a reward, which Sabrina shrank back from. “Does everyone remember what I said?”

  “Imagine your hand travelling through the wall?” a female voice from the middle of the huddle offered.

  “Exactly, Charlene.” Eleanor wafted her arms out. “Now spread out and give it a try.”

  A tall, pale man with ginger hair and dressed in a red jumpsuit appeared a few feet behind Eleanor, eliciting a choked scream from Debbie. Or maybe it was Alison. I still wasn’t clear on which was which. Hearing the scream and seeing everyone’s attention behind her, Eleanor whipped around.

  “Oh.” She sighed with relief, her hand over her heart. “Ed.”

  “You okay, Ellie?” Ed asked with a smile of concern. “You look a little startled.”

  “I’m fine.” She shook her head with a smile and took the letter. She opened it and quickly read it.

  “Not surprised you’re a little jumpy in this place.” Ed looked around. “Gives me the creeps. Do you want me to wait for your reply?”

  “No, but thank you.” Eleanor folded the letter back inside the envelope. “I’ll have to go in person.”

  “Take it easy.” He smiled and disappeared.

  “Everyone?” Eleanor called, turning back to us and unexpectedly finding everyone already watching her. “Ah, I have to leave for a few minutes. It shouldn’t take too long. I’d like you all to keep practising until I get back.
” And then she disappeared.

  The silence in the room held in Eleanor’s wake. No one could quite believe she’d left us to our own devices.

  “What did he mean he wasn’t surprised she was a little jumpy?” asked one of the younger women, her arms wrapped around her torso as though she was giving herself a hug.

  “Tell me you know the stories?” Warren pleaded, moving into the centre of the room.

  Sabrina watched him unimpressed. “Doctor or nurse?” she whispered to me.

  “I’m going with the doctor,” I whispered back with a roll of my eyes before addressing the rest of the group. “I think we should all keep practising. Eleanor will be back in a few minutes and this is going to be on the assessment.”

  “I never took you for a party pooper, Red,” Warren mocked.

  “Do any of you even know when this assessment is?” Sabrina backed me up, distracting everyone’s attention from Warren.

  “She’s not given us a definite time yet,” offered an older man whose name I couldn’t remember.

  “You grew up here, right, Red?” Warren persisted. “So you must know the stories?”

  “Yes, I do, but oddly I don’t think that telling ghosts stories to ghosts is a massively productive use of everyone’s time.”

  “Well, now, hold on there,” said Martin, the guy whose shoulder had protruded through Sabrina’s torso when we’d first been learning to tunnel. “You don’t speak for all of us. I’d like to know.”

  “Of course you would.” Sabrina gave him a tight smile that looked more like a grimace.

  “Excellent.” Warren rubbed his hands together in ghostly glee and lowered his voice. “The story starts on a summer evening just like this, back when this was a women’s hospital. One of the nurses on the ward was heavily pregnant. She went into labour one night and gave birth to a healthy baby boy. The lady in the bed next to her also gave birth on the same night, but she wasn’t as lucky. Her baby boy was stillborn.” He paused for effect and several people gasped in sympathy for the fictitious woman.

  “Damn it,” I whispered. Sabrina coughed to hide her laugh. “Fifty-fifty chance and I still guess wrong.”

  “But this lady was rich,” the goth boy continued, oblivious to us. “Her husband threatened to have the hospital closed, have the doctors stricken off for incompetence. What could they do?” He paused again, looking around at his audience to gauge their reactions. “They needed their jobs. The town needed a hospital. The board decided the easiest way to placate them would be to give them a healthy baby. The nurse’s baby. She was unmarried and with no family to speak of, so the board decided she had no hope of raising the child alone and giving her son away would be a kindness.”

  “No,” someone at the back of the group gasped.

  “They stole him from her arms and she slit her own throat in the hospital nursery less than an hour later. But her tormented soul has never left. People have seen her walking these very halls.” The goth boy gestured behind him. “They’ve heard her calling for Percy, her stolen little boy.”

  “Oh, that’s a dreadful tale,” someone whispered on the other side of the room.

  “It gets worse.” Warren smiled smugly, clearly enjoying himself. “To try to minimise her shame of having her baby stolen, she tracks down any who’ve heard the story and torments them until they slit their own throat.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Martin snapped. “How can she torment people into that?”

  “Right,” Sabrina mumbled. “That’s the ridiculous part of that story. Wasn’t even scary.”

  “A few well-placed comments, Martin, that’s all it takes.” Warren mimed testing a sharp blade on his finger then slicing his throat, letting his head droop forward.

  “Actually, that’s not accurate.” I’d heard that story and a trillion more about the hospital when I’d been growing up and all were way spookier than his. Not that I was about to retell any of them.

  “Course it is,” he snapped, ending his mime.

  “No, I meant the nurse doesn’t come for those who’ve heard the story.” I paused for dramatic effect, just like he had. “She comes for those who’ve told it.”

  “No she doesn’t,” he scoffed.

  “Yeah. She does.” I nodded and pointed at him. “Because you’re spreading her shame.”

  Warren hesitated. “Look, Red, just because—”

  “Shhh!” Martin stepped into the middle of the room. “Can you hear that?”

  “What?” Warren pouted at him, blatantly unimpressed Martin was trying to steal his limelight.

  Martin tilted his head and everyone listened. “It’s like a hissing.”

  After a long moment I heard it. Like air escaping slowly from a balloon. When it came again, loudly and more insistent, Martin moved out into the hallway to check around. He made a quick investigation of the room opposite and came back to the hallway where everyone had gathered in a tight group. Even Sabrina and I had joined them.

  “It’s calling for Percy,” someone whispered.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Martin snapped. “The boy was just telling stories.”

  “Peeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr …” The hoarse whisper echoed off the walls, still faint but clear. “… ccccccccccccccy …”

  Doors slammed somewhere upstairs, making everyone jump. Suddenly, and despite knowing the story was most likely utter rubbish, the hospital seemed a lot darker, the shadows thicker.

  “It was just the wind,” Martin assured everyone. “That’s all.”

  “Sure it was,” Warren snipped.

  “This isn’t for real, right?” Sabrina whispered to me, and I shook my head with a roll of my eyes. “Oh my god!” Sabrina cried. “I just saw someone walk across that room.” She pointed to the room adjacent to the one we’d been in, the one Martin had checked, and everyone’s heads automatically swivelled in response.

  I raised an eyebrow at Sabrina and she gave me a one-shouldered shrug with a grin while no one else was looking.

  “There’s no one there,” Martin announced, taking a step towards the room and tentatively peering through the doorway, though he didn’t go in this time.

  The hissing came again, louder and from the room we’d all just left. “Peeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrccccccccccccccccccy …”

  “Okay. Time to go,” the older gentleman who told us there was no assessment date announced in a slightly shaky voice.

  As everyone turned to the front doors they slammed shut, locking us in the darkness.

  “Was that the wind too?” Warren shrieked at Martin, pointing frantically at the doors.

  Someone screamed. “A nurse!”

  “She’s in that room.” Another woman whose name I didn’t know was jabbing a shaky finger at the room we’d just left. “She’s in there.”

  Movement caught the corner of my eye. A woman dressed in a nurse uniform stood in front of Warren.

  “Percy?” It came out as a hoarse whisper.

  She reached out as if to stroke his cheek, but as she did her body started decaying. Her skin greyed, wrinkled and hung off her arms while the weight of it pulled her cheeks down, making her eyeballs look like they were about to fall out. Her black hair, pulled back neatly under her nurse’s hat, thinned so badly you could see the sores on her scalp. Her ridged brown nails grew while still reaching for Warren. Everyone screamed. They tripped over each other in a mad scramble to get to the front door. Someone managed to jerk it open and, still screaming, they ran into the summer evening.

  “Was that fun for you?” I asked Edith as she morphed back into a stylish black skirt suit accessorised with a string of pearls and adjusted her chignon.

  She smiled. “I was teaching them a valuable lesson, dear.”

  “I’ll just go and make sure they’re all okay.” David excused himself pointedly from the company of a wanted felon.

  “And that lesson was?” I asked.

  “Don’t mock your compatriots.”

  “The story was true?” Sabri
na asked wide-eyed.

  “Well, his name was Jack, and Charlotte gave him up voluntarily to one of the doctors and his wife who couldn’t have children.” Edith peered out of the front door behind us.

  “She slit her throat?” I asked.

  Edith shook her head. “Died of old age.”

  “So that would be a no, then.” Sabrina surmised. “And as entertaining as that was, what are you doing here?”

  “Well, dear, it occurred to me that you could use some help with your investigation. What with Bridget’s afterlife being on the line – and I have some time to spare.” She adjusted her suit jacket again. “So, do you need my help?”

  “We’d be glad to have you.” Sabrina smiled welcomingly and the slight tension bled out of Edith’s shoulders. “We just need to finish up our GA meeting and then we’re going to stake out Fenton’s place.”

  “Meet you around the back when you’re done.” She nodded and disappeared.

  “Why am I not surprised you two are in the thick of this?” Eleanor stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and frown on her face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “If it’s any consolation, dears,” said Edith, perched on the low wall that encircled a small patio area at the back of the hospital. “I thought she was unnecessarily hard on you both.”

  Her knees were pressed together, feet crossed at the ankles, hands folded in her lap. She was the image of propriety. We dodged the caterpillar-covered weeds that jutted up from between each paving slab as we made our way over to her. Someone had piled up several rusted tables and chairs in the corner against the back wall of the hospital. Just looking at them had me itching for a tetanus shot.

  “There’s a little bit of a history there.” Sabrina shimmied between two waist high weeds so not to disturb the black-and-orange stripped caterpillars and sat down on the cleanest piece of wall near Edith.

  “I can imagine.” The corners of Edith’s lips kicked up. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Sabrina briefly outlined the new development with Jeremy, the audience list and the trap she’d laid for anyone involved in Fenton’s death.