Ghostly Liaisons (Ghosts)

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Ghostly Liaisons (Ghosts) Page 13

by Spear, Terry


  Twisting her head, Emily considered the placement of the trees and knew this was where she walked those restless nights through Roberta’s eyes. Here in the swampy terrain...and at the end of the walk, she always stood next to the pirate’s chest.

  Emily turned toward where the light had been; Roberta was no longer there. Then something moved in the water to the right of her car.

  The light reappeared.

  Emily slogged through the scum-covered water. “Here, Michael. Somewhere here.” She stopped and pointed.

  “Let me look, Emily. You hold the flashlight.”

  He reached into the reed-filled muck and sifted through the slimy silt. “Nothing.”

  Emily’s heart grew heavy. Maybe returning at dawn would be a better idea.

  Moving slightly to the right, Michael stirred through the mud again. Shaking his head, he moved a few inches from the last spot he checked. “I don’t know. I’m not certain we’ll be able to find anything in the dark like this.”

  “She died in the dark.” Emily envisioned Armando carrying Roberta into the swamp. But why?

  Why would he hide her here? He didn’t try to hide his parents in the swamp, she didn’t think.

  “He left them in their home,” Roberta said.

  “So why move you here?” Emily asked her. “Roberta,” she whispered, attempting to reach her again when she didn’t respond through mental telepathy, “why did he bring you here?”

  Silence.

  Michael looked up at Emily waiting to hear the reason, his jaw tense, neck muscles tightened.

  “We came here...to the swamps...to be together in secret. We came here to be alone.”

  Emily touched Michael’s shoulder. “They met here in secret.”

  “Right here?” His voice was incredulous, tinged with annoyance. “In the middle of the swamp?” He let out a breath of air. “Jeez, I would have found a more appealing place to take my girl.”

  “Thank heavens for that, Michael. Though for now, I guess we’re following in their footsteps.”

  “Not for the same reason.” He continued to feel through the scum, then his breath caught in his throat.

  “Michael?” Emily leaned down and peered into the black waters rippling in the night breeze. “Did you find something?”

  “Bones and...” He pulled up a small golden cross. “Ask her if it’s hers.”

  “Roberta,” Emily asked, her voice and hand shaking when she held up the chain, “is this yours?”

  “Yes, Armando gave it to me.”

  “Yes, she says it is.”

  “The bones must be hers, too. We’ll count the distance from the car and tell the police. I don’t want to disturb them for now.”

  “But we’ve got to put them to rest.” Emily felt teary-eyed again.

  “We will, Emily.” Michael stepped out the distance from the tail end of the Caddy. “But the police have to do some investigating first.”

  She gripped the necklace tightly in her fist. “Roberta, we’ll make sure your remains are buried properly. Do you want your necklace to go to your parents?”

  “Armando.”

  For a second Emily’s thoughts blurred with confusion. Didn’t Roberta know he died?

  No, of course not. He killed her, and then died at someone else’s hands.

  Should she tell Roberta? Or let her believe he still lived? But Roberta could read Emily’s mind and…

  Emily swallowed hard. Roberta had to know. She knew and had warned Emily about him.

  “We should go home now, Emily,” Michael said.

  Gripping Roberta’s necklace in her clenched fist, she prayed she wouldn’t lose it before they made it back to the house. “She wants me to give her necklace back to Armando.”

  “Then we’ll do that. Come on, Emily, let’s go before something happens to us.”

  Emily hesitated. She didn’t want to leave Roberta alone in the swamps. But when she looked at the figure glowing softly in the moonlight, she could see it already fading.

  “Thank you, kind soul, for saving me. Tell Armando I forgive him and will love him forever.”

  Had Roberta’s spirit finally let go of this place? This world?

  “I will, Roberta. I will.” Emily’s skin prickled, and her eyes misted. To think the two had loved each other so much...like Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers for all eternity. She stifled a sniffle.

  When the light vanished completely, Emily took a deep breath, determined to release Armando’s soul tonight as well. “We have to break into the school.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t wait to see Armando. I have to stop him before he can use me, Michael. I’m afraid to wait until after school. What if something else happens? What if we’re unable to get into the cafeteria later? What if he tries to have me use my abilities to make the murderer kill himself?”

  Michael wrapped his arm around Emily’s shoulders and walked out of the swamps, trudging slowly through the silt, the muck hampering their progress. “We’ll ask Granny. If she agrees, we’ll all go.”

  Emily kissed his mud-speckled cheek. “Oooh, your stubble prickles.”

  He chuckled. “I suppose I should have shaved before we came out here tonight.”

  “Well, if you’re going to take me on an after-midnight stroll...” Sighing deeply, she slipped her arm around his waist. “My poor old car.”

  “Yeah. If it was Red and his buddies…”

  “Do you still think you can use mediation to get them to cease and desist?”

  “Only in addition to using a spiked club.”

  “Hmm, sounds like my sweet-hearted diplomat is developing the heart of a lion.”

  “Barbarian, more like it,” he said, and ran his hand over his unshaven face.

  Comforted by his solid presence, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “My true knight.”

  He shook his head. “If I were your knight, I would have gone charging into the swamp on my own and left my lady safely in her castle.”

  She chuckled. She wasn’t about to be left home in any castle while Michael slew her dragons for her.

  Feeling much more relaxed, the notion was finally sinking in that Roberta was at rest. Emily looked forward to a good night’s sleep, the first she’d have since moving here…as long as she could get her mind off Armando. But, at least Roberta couldn’t dream-shift Emily into the swamps anymore.

  At two in the morning, not a soul was on the road that ran between the swamp lands and their homes were dark, except for the security lights casting a pale glow on the front porches. Their sneakers squished muddy water from the canvas sides when they darted across the road.

  Michael kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk to my grandmother first. If she says no, we’ll go to bed and plan meeting in the cafeteria after school. If she says she’s game, you and I need to get changed into some dry things and meet back at my house.”

  Emily stiffened. She didn’t want to wait. They had Roberta’s cross, and she was sure if she returned it to Armando and gave him Roberta’s message, she could release him from the spirit world and be at peace. “All right,” she conceded reluctantly.

  But as soon as she reached her home, her father greeted her at the door with a stern shake of his head. His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned into a scowl, he glanced at Michael. “I trust you have a good reason for taking my daughter out in the swamps tonight.” He paused, considering her wet, muddy clothes. “Go in and get cleaned up. I’ll talk to you in a few minutes.” His stern voice brooked no argument, and she knew she was in trouble now.

  “Michael went with me to keep me safe.” Which sounded pretty lame once the words were out of her mouth. Why in the world would a boy take her into a dangerous swamp in the middle of the night to make sure she remained safe?

  “I’ll talk to the young man. Get on upstairs and clean up.”

  She looked back at Michael, worried her father would tell him he couldn’t see her anymore. What would they do then? Togethe
r they had to put Armando to rest. It was the only way.

  And tonight. She had to set Armando free. Tonight.

  Chapter 15

  Michael knew Emily’s father wanted the best for her and realized the situation looked pretty bad. What guy sneaked a girl out of her house in the middle of the night to walk with her in the swamps?

  Someone totally crazy, that was for sure. What would Michael have thought if the roles were reversed, and he was the dad? He’d have been pissed.

  “Sir, I’m Michael—”

  “I know exactly who you are. You’re the boy my daughter has the crush on.”

  Michael raised his brows. Though he was well pleased she felt that way about him, he wondered what Emily had said to her parents.

  “Up until now, I’ve thought you were the best thing that ever happened to her because you seemed level-headed, well-grounded. She hasn’t had many friends over the years because of her special abilities.” He ran his hands through his short blond hair. His electric blue eyes were full of distress. “But after this stunt…”

  “Did she tell you about the ghosts?” Michael felt as if he was climbing out onto a very thin limb. He could fall hundreds of feet to his death, his body breaking into a thousand pieces like a glass shattered on a tile floor.

  Had she told her parents anything about the ghosts over the years? If they didn’t have her abilities, did they understand how important this was to her? He wondered if she’d even told them about releasing the spirit at her old high school. If she had, it might be easier to explain their situation now.

  No, Michael realized with a sinking feeling; she said she sneaked into the place. She most likely hadn’t told her family.

  Mr. Rundle’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard, and his eyes darkened.

  Was that a yes? Had she told them about the ghosts? Or not.

  “Ghosts?” her father said, but in a strangled manner.

  Michael had one chance to prove to Emily’s father she meant the entire world to him, and he had no intention of harming her. If Mr. Rundle said they couldn’t see one another, Emily would be in grave danger.

  “A ghost named Roberta has been plaguing Emily every night in her sleep,” Michael said in a rush. “Didn’t she tell you about it?”

  Mr. Rundle nodded, but didn’t comment. He hadn’t let Michael out of the noose yet.

  Michael scrounged in his brain, trying to come up with a good explanation to convince a nonbeliever.

  “Roberta called to her to put her at peace.”

  Emily’s father just listened.

  Michael knew he stood before the firing squad. One wrong word, and he’d be shot down. The right word and maybe, just maybe, he would be allowed to help Emily through her nightmare.

  Michael had every intention of helping Emily, whether her father agreed or not. No way would he allow her to go it alone.

  “We found Roberta’s bones.”

  Mr. Rundle’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened. Should he tell her father about Armando? Should he tell him about everything?

  Michael didn’t think her father could handle that. No, he would just tell him why they’d been running around in the swamp. That’s all her father really needed to know.

  “How...?” Mr. Rundle began, then clamped his mouth shut.

  “Roberta’s been coming to Emily every night, begging for her to find her remains. Tonight, Roberta led Emily to them.”

  Michael paused, wondering how much Emily had told her parents about him. It was the only way to explain how he knew he had to help her, though he usually didn’t tell anyone about his abilities. “I guess she might have told you I have premonitions of the future.”

  Mr. Rundle nodded. “And you’re a genius.”

  His girl was proud of him. Michael felt a flush of elation. He cleared his throat. “Uhm, yes, well, I have a photographic memory, but—”

  “A genius.”

  Who was he to argue with Emily’s dad?

  “Well, what happened was I focused on Emily’s thoughts and saw the ghost appear before her. Roberta pleaded with her to come to the swamp and find her. I wasn’t even sure whether the ghost wanted to harm her or not. And I didn’t know if the ghost drove Emily to seek her out tonight, or if Emily did it of her own free will.” Michael took a breath, hoping Mr. Rundle could see their dilemma and realize they had no choice.

  Her father nodded.

  “So, I dressed and hurried over here, afraid she’d go out without anyone to protect her.”

  Mr. Rundle’s eyes narrowed. “You could have let me know.”

  “I guess I hadn’t considered waking anyone else.”

  “You thought I wouldn’t believe you. You figured I’d say no.” Her father paused to let the accusations imprint permanently on Michael’s brain. “And you would have been right.” He rubbed his blond stubble. “And then?”

  Her father wasn’t stringing him up yet. Michael took a deep breath. “We found the Caddy.”

  A flicker of anger flashed across her father’s features.

  “And we found Roberta’s bones nearby.”

  Mr. Rundle’s shoulders slumped. “What happened?”

  “I measured off the distance from the Caddy to the bones and—”

  “No, did the ghost tell you who killed her?”

  Now, this was the tricky part. Telling him about Armando without giving away the fact they still had to take care of him. “Armando Gomez was Roberta’s boyfriend. His parents didn’t want him seeing her. In a rage, he attempted to kill them and when Roberta tried to stop him, he accidentally killed her. He left his murdered parents in their home and took Roberta’s body into the swamps because they used to meet there in secret.”

  “I have to report this to the police.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about the ghost?”

  “She’s gone. Once we found her bones...” Michael hesitated. “Well, she faded away after that, thanking Emily for helping her to find peace.”

  “This Armando…”

  Michael shook his head. Now what? If he said Armando was alive, her father would be furious to learn from the police someone had killed the boy. If Michael said Armando had been murdered like Roberta, would Emily’s father suspect Emily and Michael still had unfinished business?

  Michael took too long to speak.

  Mr. Rundle crossed his arms. “I may not have these special abilities you and Emily have, but I can tell by your behavior there’s more you’re not telling me. If you want to continue to see Emily, you’ll have to be perfectly honest with me.”

  Did he? Could he understand how serious this matter was?

  Michael stood taller. “Armando’s dead.”

  Mr. Rundle’s brows rose. “Dead?” He took a ragged breath. “Don’t tell me. He’s terrorizing Emily, too.”

  “Well, truthfully, sir, I didn’t want to tell you. But, yes.”

  “In the swamps?”

  “No, sir. At school.”

  Mr. Rundle sat down hard on the porch step. “She’s always had dealings with ghosts.”

  “Since she was in her teens.” Michael sat down next to Mr. Rundle. He had the impression she had kept her family in the dark about it.

  “Earlier than that, but she pretended to us she didn’t because her mother was worried her mind had been affected. Do you know why?”

  “Emily said she had died in a swimming pool.”

  Mr. Rundle looked toward the swamp. “We thought we’d lost our only daughter. But when she came back to us, she was different. More focused, more serious than a child of six should have been. She didn’t want people to think she was crazy, so for years she hid what she’d seen from everyone. From us even. Only more recently she’s told us a little about what she’s seen. I think she just couldn’t hold it in any longer.” He grimaced. “She should have felt safe telling us all these years. You’ll watch out for her?”

  “Oh, yes, sir.”

  “What’s the plan?” />
  “We found Roberta’s gold cross. We’ll give it to Armando and the message from Roberta. It should release him.” At least Michael prayed it would. What did he know about ghosts? Emily was the expert in the field.

  “No more wandering in the swamps?”

  Michael shook his head. “Not if I can help it. Truthfully, I prefer taking Emily to nicer places.”

  Her father finally half smiled and rose from the step. “Keep us informed. Even though it’s difficult for us to comprehend these abilities of hers, we want her to be safe. And I’m counting on you to keep her that way.”

  Michael breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was her father letting him off the hook for slogging through the swamp with Emily, he had given the green light for Michael to take care of her. He couldn’t have felt any higher.

  In wet muddy trousers, he said goodnight. He hurried home, confident—well, mostly confident—they’d get rid of Armando’s spirit for good the next day at school.

  * * *

  After eavesdropping on her father and Michael, assuring herself her father wasn’t going to kill her first real boyfriend, Emily showered and dressed for bed.

  Shortly thereafter, someone knocked softly on her door. “Emily?” her father asked.

  She pulled her robe on over her nightgown and opened the door, her stomach tightening. “Yes, Dad?”

  “Michael told me everything that’s been going on with you and the ghosts. Why haven’t you told me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you and Mom.”

  His lips thinned. “Your mom is one thing. I’d rather you didn’t mention any of this to her. But I want you to keep me informed.”

  “Yes, Dad.” Relieved he didn’t say she couldn’t try to help the spirits, her stomach untwisted a notch. But what about Michael? Would her father set up some new rules concerning her friendship with him?

  Her father drummed his fingers on the doorframe, his eyes cast down. Then his gaze caught hers. “I know you’ve had this ability to deal with ghosts for years. But maybe this is a little beyond your capabilities.”

  “Granny’s going to help me.”

  “But tonight—”

  “Roberta, the spirit I helped, was sweet. I didn’t need Granny’s aid.”

 

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