End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1)

by E. J. Fechenda

  “I know. In a car crash on I-17. Frank, are you familiar with the unusual rescue of a sheriff’s deputy from a wildfire? This was about five months ago.”

  “No.”

  This is where I was afraid things would get tricky. If he had seen the video, it would have made things so much easier. “I’m just going to come out and say it. Before you hang the phone up on me, I can email you the video and my credentials.” I glanced around to make sure none of the other deputies were in ear shot. Leaning forward with my elbows on the desk, I cupped the phone with one hand and quietly said, “Your father may have died on the Interstate, but his spirit or ghost stayed behind. He actually saved my life.”

  “Really, lady? Is this some kind of fucking joke?”

  I waited for the click of a disconnected call, but it never came. Frank Jr. exhaled and I was relieved smoke couldn’t travel across phone lines. “You didn’t hang up,” I said, surprised.

  “No. Shit, I really don’t have anything to lose. Send me the stuff.” He gave me his email address and I typed it in as he read it off. I already had the message ready to go and hit send.

  “It’s on the way.”

  There was a squeak in the background and a roll of a chair. I pivoted in my seat and saw another deputy had come back to his desk. I turned around so my body blocked any view of my screen.

  “Got it.”

  “I’ll stay on the line while you watch the video.”

  “Sure, don’t have any customers beating down the door.” Frank coughed and I held the phone away from my ear, grimacing at how wet it sounded.

  I could hear the video playing and knew the moment Frank saw me being carried by an invisible force when he gasped and whispered, “What the hell?” Seconds later the video came to an end.

  “That’s you?” he asked.

  “Yes. You can match it up with the copy of my id and badge that are attached in the email. My signature and the email address offer further verification.”

  “Wow, I haven’t seen anything like that before. Well, except in a movie.”

  “Trust me the experience definitely opened my eyes. You can’t see him in the clip, but can you guess who carried me to safety?”

  “My dad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Holy shit.”

  I nodded in agreement and was pleased that Frank Jr. was still with me. Was I going to be able to convince him to travel to Arizona and meet his father? I was about to find out. After taking a steadying breath, I asked him, explaining how Frank Sr. wanted to meet his son.

  “He wants to meet me, after all of these years? What the hell is that going to do? My life is fucked up enough as it is. What’s the point?”

  “Frank, it’s crazy, I know. We’re working with a medium trying to get your dad and some other ghosts to crossover. Your dad wants to meet you. He’s wondered all the years if he had a son or a daughter. He never knew until a few weeks ago. You might be able to help him.”

  “Why should I? He sure as hell never helped me.”

  “Maybe you both will benefit. Here’s your chance to say your piece. Many children have lost a parent and will never have an opportunity like this.” I had attended a weekend seminar on hostage negotiation techniques and applied some persuasive dialogue. I was impressed that it actually worked.

  Without having to meet in person, he agreed to travel to Prescott the following Monday. I stared at the phone long after hanging up, amazed at how easy the conversation went with Frank Jr. I didn’t know if I was just really convincing or if he had agreed out of a willingness to latch on to anything that could potentially change the course of his life. Desperation did cause people to do random and often impulsive things.

  My only hope was that the two Frank Murphy’s discovered what they needed and both were able to move on.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Before Frank Jr. came to town, Eric and I had to attend my cousin’s Quinceañera. Miraculously, our vacation requests to have the weekend, plus the following Monday and Tuesday off were approved. We couldn’t take any more time though since we were both scheduled to report for work on Thursday, which was Thanksgiving.

  Instead of staying at my parent’s house, we reserved a hotel room. Since Quinceañeras are all-day affairs, we decided it would be nice to have a no family buffer zone to escape to if needed. The bathroom in our room was big enough for the both of us to get ready at the same time. We moved around each other, remembering the steps of our married routine like a well-rehearsed dance.

  I watched Eric in the mirror as he stood behind me, zipping up my dress and clasping a simple gold necklace behind my neck. He smoothed my hair, which hung loose past my shoulder blades. He was wearing a dark blue suit that complimented his eyes. He caught me watching him and held my gaze in the mirror.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, leaning forward and nuzzling my neck. It tickled and I laughed, squirming away, but he stopped me, using his body to pin me against the counter. I spun around to face him and kissed him once, a peck on the lips, before quickly ducking underneath his arms and stepping free.

  “As much as I’d love to hole up here all day with you, we RSVP’d, we’re already dressed and my mother knows our room number.”

  He groaned as I walked away. After a brief inspection in the mirror Eric straightened his tie and joined me by the front door. My hands were full with the birthday present, wrapped in shiny pink paper and topped with a ribbon so large, I could barely see over it, so he opened the door and once I stood in the hallway, he grabbed the gift.

  “Safety first, Hernandez. You’re already endangering yourself wearing those,” he said with a smirk, glancing down at the four inch heels on my fashion over function shoes.

  I smacked him on his shoulder and led the way to the elevators. Once we were in the lobby, we followed signs for the Quinceañera. My heels clacked on the tile floor as we made our way to the grand ballroom. The music reached our ears when we were halfway down the wide hallway and grew louder the closer we got.

  Eric pulled the enormous brass door handle on one of the large double doors. Upon opening, music and the shrieks of excited teenage girls threatened to deafen us.

  “Are you ready for this?” I asked him. “Those girls are going to love you.” He was definitely looking good in his suit and he blanched slightly at my comment. I spotted my parents and we crossed the room to check in with them. Eric walked in a more controlled manner like he was concentrating on keeping his usual swagger in check. I stifled a laugh. Eric could handle busting dangerous criminals, but a room full of squealing teenage girls intimidated the crap out of him.

  Like me, my mom had changed outfits since the church ceremony. Her sweater set and dress pants were replaced with a simple black dress and patent leather pumps adorned with a gold buckle at the front. Her hair was swept up into a twist, black streaked with silver.

  “Elena, you look lovely,” she said, taking in my strapless gold cocktail dress.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.” Eric wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. Eager to divert the attention away from me I asked where we needed to put our gift. My mom took me to a table heaped with elaborately wrapped presents and I set our offering down. When we returned to our family’s table, Cruz had arrived. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves were already rolled up.

  “Cruz, fix your shirt,” my mom admonished him and bent over, grabbing one of his wrists, clucking her tongue in the process.

  “Hey Elena,” Cruz nodded at me. “So Monday’s the big day, huh?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, noticing Eric’s head had whipped around at my brother’s question.

  “You know…the ghost thing with Gavin? He told me about the medium and all.”

  I was speechless because I had intentionally not told my family, especially my mother, knowing the whole concept would be met with disapproval. I thought Gavin understood this, but couldn’t recall if
I had actually told him not to say anything to my brother. The stunned expression on my face must have clued Cruz in because he tried to change subjects. It was too late.

  “Elena, what is this?” my mom asked me. She was in interrogator mode. Her eyes locked on mine and she stood with her feet planted hip width apart, her arms crossed. This pose and intense scrutiny always made Cruz and I crack when we were younger. She still had the same effect because I found myself unable to lie. I gestured for my parent’s to sit down and pulled a chair up closer to them so we didn’t have to shout over the music. Eric sat down next to me and took my hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. Taking a deep breath I told them the entire story starting with my rescue, which they already knew about, and ending with the conversation I had with Frank Jr.

  My mom tried to interrupt several times, but my dad put a hand on her forearm, silencing her. As soon as I was done though, she jumped right in.

  “Elena, this is crazy. You’re talking to dead people and hanging out with psychics?”

  “Ghosts, mom, and Adele’s a medium, not a psychic.” As I corrected her, it made me realize I’d thought the same thing not too long ago and this was just one of the many times where her words echoed mine or vice versa. “In fact Adele possesses both clairvoyance and clairaudience abilities.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She can see and hear ghosts, even communicate with them, like me. I had no idea these things were possible.”

  “I don’t like it. It’s dangerous to play around with the dead. Leave the dead alone and focus on living.”

  “I have to agree with your mom on this one, Elena. This doesn’t sound normal,” my dad said.

  “Sir, I know this is difficult to process,” Eric chimed in before I could respond. “Trust me, I’ve been there. As unreal as it sounds, it’s very real. I’ve witnessed Elena and Adele in action and it’s really something to behold. Besides, this whole experience brought us back together.” Eric lifted my hand and kissed it before placing it back on the table. I smiled up at him, grateful for his support.

  My mom’s eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips before saying, “I still don’t like it.”

  “Don’t like what, Mom…the ghosts or me and Eric?” My temper was beginning to flare and I didn’t want to make a scene. “I am living, mom, more so than I have in months. A year ago I wouldn’t even have attended this Quinceañera. It was so easy to tune out and keep to myself. Eric makes me happy, these ghosts saved my life and now it’s my turn to help them. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be judgmental. Well, guess what? It doesn’t matter. You can support me or not…it won’t influence my decision.”

  Silence hung over the table in the wake of my outburst. My mom pursed her lips together before they twitched into a smile. Suddenly she was laughing. We all stared at her like she had completely lost it.

  “There you are,” she said. “I haven’t seen you that feisty in a long time, Elena.”

  My dad relaxed and took my mom’s hand in his. He was the strong and silent type and this reminded me of Eric. Aside from his little speech, Eric was behind me showing his support by holding my hand or rubbing my back. He wasn’t letting me battle alone, but was giving me the floor to say my piece, always letting his presence be known in the background.

  “I may not understand ghosts or mediums, but I know you, Elena. You need to do this and if they are responsible for you being alive, then who am I to say anything. I’m just glad to have my daughter.”

  “Yes and I’m not worried knowing you’re not doing this alone,” my dad added, looking across the table at Eric.

  “Whew, things were getting intense. Maybe now our waitress will come back and take my drink order. We scared her away,” Cruz said, further diffusing the tension. I noticed he had fixed his sleeves, the cuffs now buttoned and the wrinkles smoothed out.

  After that, Eric pulled me onto the dance floor, giving me some much needed space from my mother. “I love her, don’t get me wrong, but she can be so stubborn,” I grumbled into Eric’s chest as he held me close. The soft beat of a slow song throbbed in the background.

  “You might hate me for saying this, but you two are a lot alike.” He kissed the top of my head.

  He was right, even though I hated to admit it, so I didn’t get mad. Instead I focused on being in his arms, aware that my mom’s objections weren’t about our relationship, but the ghosts.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  We took full advantage of having a hotel room and prolonged checking out until the last possible moment. I left Eric at the registration counter to settle up our bill and walked into the hotel restaurant to meet my parents and Cruz for brunch.

  Cruz was obviously nursing a hangover, his body listed to one side and his eyelids hung at half-mast over bloodshot eyes.

  “I hope you behaved yourself with all of that jailbait,” I teased him. “I am a law enforcement officer; it’d be awkward to have to bring you in.” He grunted in response and took a sip of coffee.

  “Speaking of awkward…one of the servers last night was really cute and friendly, if you know what I mean.” Cruz winked or winced, I wasn’t sure. It seemed like any small movement hurt. “I couldn’t really bring her back to my hotel room since I was sharing mom and dads’.”

  “Oh boy!” I laughed and sat down next to mom, leaving the seat between me and Cruz open for Eric. Just as I was thinking of him, I glanced up to see him entering the restaurant. He spotted us and weaved his way through a sea of white tablecloths.

  My family was noticeably less distant with Eric and more accepting of us as a couple, especially my mom who fussed over him and made sure he got plenty of sausage to go with his pancakes. She tisked at Cruz who barely ate anything and when he did, he moaned and made a big production over the effort.

  “You did this to yourself, Cruz,” she said, “You need to practice more self-control. You don’t have to treat every special occasion like it’s a frat party.”

  I smirked while suppressing a laugh and my dad saw this. He winked at me before eating another forkful of eggs Benedict.

  Once my mom was done lecturing Cruz, she set down her fork and turned her attention towards me and Eric. “Tomorrow is when you’re doing this thing with the medium, right?” I nodded. Her dark eyes moved to Eric. “You’ll keep her safe?”

  “Yes, I don’t want to lose her again.” My hand was resting on the tabletop and Eric placed his over mine, lacing our fingers together.

  “Good.” She picked up her fork and resumed eating without further comment.

  ***

  It was early evening by the time we left Glendale to head back to Prescott. Adele had advised we both get a good night’s sleep and be fully hydrated in preparation for the next day’s event. We weren’t planning on stopping to see the ghosts on our return trip, but I wanted to check in on Frank. The last time I saw him he was anxious about meeting his son who we were picking up at the bus station in the morning.

  Eric pulled onto the small sandy clearing at the side of the Interstate and I hopped out. Almost instantly everyone materialized to gather around me.

  “What’s wrong? Has anything changed for tomorrow?” Frank immediately asked, wringing his hands in an attempt to channel the anxiety.

  “Eric and I are picking your son up at 11:30 as long as his bus stays on schedule, we should be here by noon. We were on our way home and wanted to check in…to make sure you’re ready for tomorrow.”

  “I’m ready. I never thought I’d get to meet my child.”

  “Great, we’ll see you tomorrow. Adele is excited to meet you all so she can determine how to help get you crossed over.”

  We said our goodbyes and I climbed back into the Jeep. As Eric pulled onto the highway, I turned back and watched the ghosts. They stayed on the side of the road for as long as I could see them. When they receded from view, I turned back around to face the windshield. The headlights illuminated the lines on the road and the night sky opened u
p before us. Without a city nearby, the stars seemed close enough to touch, as if millions of miles didn’t separate us from the far reaches of the universe. I was quiet, all thoughts on what the next day would bring. Eric took my hand, but didn’t interrupt. How well he could read me now - the distance we had forcibly put between us no longer existed. I held onto this, hoping Frank’s son could put to rest any resentment he held towards his father.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  The bus was a few minutes late pulling into the station. We were parked near the bay, I was leaning against the driver’s side of Eric’s Jeep watching disheveled and exhausted travelers file out, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the sunlight after spending hours behind tinted windows. Frank was one of the last passengers to depart. He wore a polo shirt and baggy jeans. His hair was combed back and didn’t hang in his face like it did in his latest mug shot. Years of heavy drinking showed in his rheumy eyes and broken blood vessels on his nose. The resemblance to his father, from the dark wavy hair (although graying at the temples), to the slight paunch in his waistline aided in identifying him. I pushed away from my car and walked up to him as he was retrieving his duffle bag from the bus’ storage compartment.

  “Frank?” I asked, holding out my hand. “Elena Hernandez.”

  He set his bag down and took my hand. “Nice to meet you – can I see your ID?”

  I was surprised, but shouldn’t have been considering Frank Jr.’s history. I’d be suspicious about law enforcement too. Frank followed me back to the Jeep where I retrieved my driver’s license and badge. “This is my boyfriend, Eric. He’s also a sheriff’s deputy.” Eric handed his identification to Frank Jr. too who seemed satisfied after examining the documents and returned them to us.

  “We’re going to head right over to the highway where your dad is - if that’s okay with you?” I said, holding the passenger door open.