Rocks & Gravel (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 3)
Page 28
“I’ll take this one. I’m afraid I’ll ruin your grandmother’s furniture.”
“But I don’t want a roommate,” I repeated.
“Read this.” He pushed an envelope at me and headed back out the door, probably to bring more of his crap into my house. I tore open the envelope, recognizing the handwriting immediately. Tears stung my eyes as I read.
Peri Jean,
If you’re reading this, I am dead. I hope my dying went quick and didn’t cause you too much trouble. I know my time is about up because even I, who can’t see ghosts like you can, have caught glimpses of your grandfather wandering around, waiting to help me make the passage. George was such a nice man. I’ve missed him greatly and am looking forward to seeing him once more.
Now let’s get down to business.
First thing’s first, let Wade move in. Please. His special gift gave me a few extra months with you. This was the only way I knew to repay him. Took me forever to get him to agree, but I know he needs this. Now, I can no longer force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I wish you’d at least give it a try. I think the two of you could be good for each other. If you don’t kill each other being stubborn.
This second thing’s a little harder.
You know what’s funny about life, my beautiful granddaughter? You’ve got things you know you ought to do. You’ve got plenty of time to do those things. But you end up letting the clock run down and never do them. If I could offer you any one piece of life advice it would be to do it all before it’s too late. Experience everything you can, even if it ends up making you want to curl up in a ball and die.
I am telling you this because it goes against everything I taught you ever since I took custody of you. After seeing what I saw growing up, hearing my parents’ stories, and then seeing it happen to you when you told your schoolmates about seeing Adam Kessler’s ghost, I thought the way to protect you was to teach you to hide what you are.
You were such a good student. You built a wall around yourself and did everything you could to keep people out. I thought this was the truth of your existence. It made me sad because I knew most people would never understand how special and kind you are, but I thought your survival depended on keeping yourself separate.
Then your cousin got murdered, and you took it on yourself to solve the murder. Somehow, your wall started crumbling then, and people started coming in. I could see how special you were to them and how special they were to you.
Then I saw the way you tried to make yourself normal for these friends of yours. Especially for Dean.
(Another thing I know if you have this letter in your hands is you and Dean are finished. I don’t know how it happened, but I can guess why.)
I wanted so much to tell you to just be yourself and let Dean work out his own issues. I couldn’t because you were right in the middle of being in love with him, and the timing was wrong. He needed you to be a certain way so he could love you. If you were willing to try, who was I to preach at you? I spent my entire adult life trying not to be the person I was born as.
Since you and Dean are finished, let me tell you what I wanted to tell you the whole time you were with him.
Be who you are without apology. Never, ever let someone else try to change the core of what you are. Just like a tiger can’t change his stripes, you will never change being able to communicate with the spirit world. You have more otherworldly power than anybody I’ve ever seen, including my mama. Don’t ruin your life trying to be what someone else thinks you ought to be. Learn who you are and live your life for you.
I’ve done my best to keep you away from my family for your own good. But if you want to learn who you are, they might be a good place for you to start. Look for them, and you’ll find each other. If you’re going to do this, be careful. Listen to your inner voice. Look for danger and run if you see it coming.
Third thing. Your uncle Jesse said he told you about the tattoos. It is a mark many members of my family carry. My mama told me our family had a long relationship with the raven, going back before her family ever came to this country. She believed the birds brought her messages from the spirit world. She said sometimes they offered protection. When I was growing up, they were always around, even when we lived places ravens weren’t supposed to be.
When I grew up and moved away from my family, I left behind the ravens, too. I never saw them again until you were born. Then they came, looking in the window at you, watching you play. I shooed them away, even shooting at them. Finally, they stayed away. My life is drawing to a close, though, and I see them more and more. Make your own choice about your kinship with them. It’s in your blood.
Love now and forever, my darling girl,
Memaw
Wade tromped into the house with a box of junk, stopping to stare at me, asking me silently if he could stay. I simply stared at him, too shocked and tired to commit to anything. He went to my bedroom. I followed and watched him put down the box, which held books. Lots of them.
“I don’t want a roommate,” I said again.
“You’ve said that twice now.” He opened one of my dresser drawers and made a face at the clothes inside. “I can help you move your stuff into Miss Leticia’s room if you want.”
“I don’t want—”
“A roommate,” he finished. “Even if Miss Leticia—your memaw—hadn’t insisted on this arrangement, it would be a cold day in hell before I left you out here in the woods to walk around like a zombie. Let me stay a month, get you through the worst of this. If either of us hates it, I’ll go.”
Anger flashed over me. Finally, an emotion I knew how to express. I marched into the room, yanking a drawer out of the dresser and carrying it into Memaw’s room and dumping it on the bed.
“Don’t get mad at me.” Wade followed me through the house and into Memaw’s room. “I know this is a big change. Like I said, if either of us hates it, I’m gone.” He turned me in his arms and held me tight. I pushed against him at first, but he wouldn’t let go, so I gave up and let him hold me. I laid my head on his chest and breathed in his scent. Sunshine, open road, and gasoline. I closed my eyes and hugged him back. We separated, and I sat on the bed. Wade sat on Memaw’s vanity bench. He looked like a gorilla on a tricycle.
“Why do you need a place to stay?”
He shrugged.
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“Miss Leticia said you’d have a hard time keeping up this place alone, and she hated to think about you out here alone after she was gone.”
There was more to it than he was telling. Memaw’s letter implied she believed she was doing Wade a favor. I let it go for the moment because I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Whatever the reasons Wade needed a place to live, Memaw’d been right. The cost of maintenance on an old house would be too much for me alone. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to live with Wade. His Six Gun Revolutionaries stuff aside, I wasn’t sure what he expected from a female roommate.
“Don’t expect me to clean up after you, do your laundry, or cook for you. I’m not your maid—” I broke off as another thought crept into my mind, this one more primal. I stared at the tuft of black hair peeking out of the collar of Wade’s shirt and inhaled his musky scent.
“I don’t expect any of it.” He gave me a raunchy grin accompanied by a stinky wink. “Or the other you’re thinking about but are too chicken to say.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” My cheeks burned at being caught, but I’d never admit to it.
“It is all over your face.” He laughed. “You could never play poker. Listen to me. I want friendship more.”
I gave up and went into the bathroom. I washed the grime off the cut on my hand. The wound hung open. It needed stitches. To hell with that. I wasn’t going back to the hospital. I glanced at the door. Wade could heal it.
Then, I thought about him puking off the stage the night before. The magic had been hard on him, maybe even hurt him. No. I coul
d handle this myself.
I dug under the sink until I found a bottle of alcohol. Jaw clenched, I poured it onto the cut, taking shallow breaths until I knew I wouldn’t scream. Once I could move, I took a much needed shower. I looked like I’d crawled out of a grave and smelled worse. It was time for the bad part.
I removed the brand new tube of super glue I kept for this purpose from the medicine cabinet and cut off the top. Gritting my teeth, I pushed the edges of the cut together, and spread the glue over it. This burned a thousand times worse than the alcohol. I used every ounce of my self-control to not let even a single moan escape. When the glue was dry, I bandaged the hand.
Wade coaxed me into cleaning out the rest of Memaw’s clothes and personal belongings. While her bedclothes washed and dried, we polished all her furniture and cleaned the floor. By the time we remade the bed, the room was like a new place. I moved what little I owned in there and took a long, slow look around.
I’d always loved this bedroom furniture. It had much more character than the cheap, mass-produced particleboard set in my old room. Wade got one of his books and sat down at the kitchen table, smoking and reading.
Someone knocked on the door. Wade stood faster than I thought a man his size capable and put one hand under his jacket. Who was he expecting?
I turned on the porch light and opened the door. Hooty and Rainey and Hannah stood on the porch, their faces drawn and long. I shifted on my feet, suddenly too hot. I should have called one of them.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this.” Hannah drew me into a hug. “I know what happened with Dean.”
“It’s all over town, of course.” Rainey made a face and shook her head.
“We wanted to give you your space,” Hooty said. “Then none of us ever heard anything. We were worried.” He tapped a file on his leg. “Plus, I need to look over Miss Leticia’s funeral arrangements with you.”
“Come in.” I held the door open.
They filed in. Hannah’s eyes widened at the sight of Wade sitting in the kitchen smoking and reading. She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to one side. If I hadn’t felt so shitty, I’d have laughed. Neither Hooty nor Rainey showed any reaction to Wade. Either they’d seen so much weirdness from other people in their lives they didn’t care, or Memaw had spoken to them about her plans. Wade nodded at our visitors but went right back to his book.
“I’ve got something for the two of you,” I said to Hooty and Rainey and left the room. I came back carrying Hezekiah Bruce’s journals. Father and daughter leapt to their feet, faces split in smiles. Their voices tumbled over each other as they asked too many questions at once.
I tried explaining what happened. At the end of my story, all three of my friends sat in stunned silence.
“Should we call the sheriff’s office?” Hannah asked. “Tell them what happened to Amanda and Barbie?”
Rainey pressed her lips together and glared at Hannah. “What do you think the answer really is? We can’t tell anybody what happened to them.”
“Eventually, they’ll be reported missing,” Hooty said. “We’re all likely to be questioned.”
“We’ll work it out when we get to it,” Rainey said. “No need to worry about something we can’t change.”
“If it’s settled, I have something I need to tell the three of you.”
Three sets of eyes focused on me, all wary about what I might say next.
“When I was fighting for my life in that clearing, I realized something.” I took a deep breath, still unsure about what I was about to say. “I want to find the Mace Treasure. People are never going to quit hunting it. Some of them are bad people, willing to kill over it. I can’t live with anybody else I love getting killed over some money that might or might not exist.” Thing is, for the first time in my life, I thought it did exist. Maybe it had never been found because the best camouflage in the world—magic—was used to hide it. My take away from this whole ordeal was that I had the talent to find it.
Hannah smiled. “I’m going to help you.”
“I am, too,” Hooty said. “We’ll either put the myth to rest or get rich.”
“I’m in,” Rainey said.
Wade ignored us all, still pretending to read his book. I didn’t blame him.
Hooty showed me Memaw’s funeral plan, and I signed off on it, tears streaking down my cheeks. My friends said their goodnights and left soon afterward. I followed Rainey to her car, ignoring Hannah’s curious stare.
“Barbie and Amanda killed my daddy. Uncle Jesse can’t stay in jail for it.” I put my hand on the door of her Mercedes so she couldn’t jump in and drive away. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.
“I’ve been working on his case since I passed the bar,” she said. “I don’t want him there any more than you do, but to get him out, we have to prove he didn’t kill your father.”
“But I’m standing here telling you who did it.” I wanted to shake her.
“There’s nobody left to back up your story. You killed them.” Her dark gaze searched my face.
“I didn’t kill anybody. They made bad choices, and they paid.” I took my hand off her car door and let her get in.
“They’re still dead. No court can hear their testimony.” She started the engine and turned to me. “Believe me when I say I want to help your uncle as much as do you do. Keep thinking. I’m listening.”
“There might be something in the police file. You know it’s missing?”
Rainy nodded, closing her eyes.
“Sheriff Joey—I mean ex-Sheriff Joey’s got it.” My anger flamed up at the very thought. “If I can figure out where he’s hiding it—”
“I’m willing to listen to any legal ideas you have to help your uncle.” Rainey took her eyes off me and started her car.
I snapped my fingers. “My uncle Jesse said to tell you hi.”
Rainey said nothing. She didn’t even look at me. But I thought I saw her cheeks darken before she grabbed the car door and shut it. She took off fast enough to spin her tires.
Interesting and definitely not my business. Staring out at the silhouettes of the pine trees in the moonlight, I lit a cigarette. Movement on the porch caught my eye. I turned, thinking Wade had come out after all. The soft glow coming from the living room windows made my daddy’s ghost look even more transparent than he already was. He stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, watching me. Then he smiled, hopped off the edge of the porch, and disappeared around the side of the house. I ran to see where he’d gone and saw him pass through the chain-link fence, walking toward the dark woods. He glanced over his shoulder and blew me a kiss. He kept on walking.
Tears stung my eyes, and all the things I never got to say to him flooded my mind. I held it in and let him go. There was time. My ability to see ghosts cursed me, stigmatized me, made my life a kind of hell. But it also blessed me. Because of it, I got a second chance to have a relationship with my daddy.
I went back in the house. Wade sat at the kitchen table, reading and smoking and not talking. My aching body demanded I go to bed, but once I got there I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the way the right path had been in front of me all along, and I refused to see it. I was what I was. No pretending or wishing would ever change it. Time to be a big girl and face it, if for no other reason than to protect the people I loved.
My phone buzzed, signaling I had a text message. I turned on one of Memaw’s glass bedside lamps, making the crystals jingle together, and picked up my phone. It said I had a message from Dean.
I handled things wrong. Can I come over so we can talk?
I thought it over. There’s really no need.
I turned off the cellphone before he could answer and clicked off the lamp. The dark and the quiet did nothing to slow my mind. Thoughts sped through it like a runaway train. Several minutes passed. I flicked the lamp back on, got Mysti Whitebyrd’s card out, and stared at it. I turned my cellphone back on and started dialing.
Rest Stop
Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers #4
I reached for my iced latte, an hour old and mostly water, and fumbled it. It tipped toward the immaculate floorboard of Mysti Whitebyrd’s Toyota Camry. She grabbed the paper cup before it could capsize and pushed it into my hand.
“Nervous, Peri Jean?” She turned off the radio, a relief since the Tyler-based station spat more static than music two hours north of its signal.
Nervous didn’t cover it. I spent the eight years after my divorce developing my ability to do odd jobs into a lucrative business only to lose it all in the course of twenty-four hours. Venturing into uncharted career territory using my ability to communicate with the spirit world scared the life out me.
“Maybe you should let Brad do this.” The few seances I’d done for Mysti’s witch-for-hire business did little to make me feel prepared to contract for an actual missing persons investigator.
“Hell, no. My brother, much as I love him, doesn’t have the talent to do this job.” Mysti pulled her wild, sun-bleached brown hair into a butterfly clip and examined herself in the visor mirror. “He’s careless, and he complains all the time. Griffin Reed insists on complete professionalism from his contractors.”
What if I don’t measure up? I still had hope I could use my curse to make money. Griffin Reed could dash those hopes all to hell. What then? Slinging fried chicken at a gas station?
“Stop worrying. You hear me?” She took her gaze off my face and read the road signs. “Our turn off’s coming up.” She pointed at a green sign reading “Nazareth” with an arrow pointing right.
I turned east off HWY 69N onto SH 231 and immediately saw another sign for Nazareth. This one told me it was two miles away. I sped up to fifty-five, the posted speed limit, and took in my surroundings.
On both sides of the road flat, cleared pastures full of yellow, dead grass stretched far as I could see. Clusters of black angus cows clustered around watering tanks, waving their skinny tails against the horseflies. The land was empty. There wasn’t even a convenience store. No man’s land.