Ghostly Liaisons (Ghosts)

by Spear, Terry

  Her father took a ragged breath. “I’m proud of what you do, Emily. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Loving her father for being so understanding and not flighty like her mother, Emily nodded. “I’ll be careful. Both Michael and Granny are going to help me.”

  “If you think you need more assistance, we could try to hire one of those self-professed ghost busters that claim they can do what you do.”

  That would be the day. Rubbing her eyes, Emily yawned. If her father didn’t finish his lecture soon, she’d fall asleep standing up.

  He rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk some more about this tomorrow.”

  “Love you, Dad. Night.” She hoped by tomorrow night the whole ghost scenario would be resolved. At least where Armando was concerned. The pirate Roberts was another story.

  Her father gave her a hug. “Sweet dreams.”

  Sweet dreams. She wished. Then she had the notion she could sleep ghost-free now that Roberta was gone.

  Her father barely had shut the door by the time she collapsed in bed. Tonight—she thought with great relief—she’d sleep without interruption. Except for the worry about Armando. She still felt they should take care of him before school the next day. But she was certain she couldn’t slip out without her dad catching her. Then where would they be? She yawned again, her mind already drifting, her thoughts turning into fog.

  Closing her eyes, Emily rested her head on her pillow, and before she could rehash the day and night’s happenings, she fell into a deep slumber.

  Until she heard the most awful, gravelly-voiced man singing some off-key song. She couldn’t make out the words, but she realized at once she wasn’t in the swamps.

  Canal water lapped at the concrete bulkhead and against the sides of a fiberglass sailboat. The same old bugs added to the noisy chorus. An occasional frog ribetted. Then dark, hearty laughter pierced the thick, hot, humid air.

  She only heard one man’s voice and finally made out some of his words: “…lustily, lustily, lustily we go…leeward wind…Spaniard’s gold…fired a shot across her bow…ten fathoms deep…be with the wench, me lads…”

  Porch lights illuminated a manicured backyard. The moon sent a ribbon of silver stretching across the dark water and the white boat, its sails bound in cloth, protecting them from the elements.

  Grumbling and muttered curses filled the air.

  Emily couldn’t see who made all the noise. Roberts? The pirate captain who killed Roberta’s ancestor, Captain Menendez?

  “Who be there skulking around in the dark? Show yourself!” the male voice ordered.

  Could he see her? Or was he talking to someone else?

  “Speak up, wench.”

  A chill touched her. Even though she had visited with tons of ghosts over the years, meeting each and every one of them had been an entirely new experience, and she never knew what to expect. Some were sweet like Roberta. Others…evil to the core.

  “I like my lasses saucy and a bit salty like the sea, not cowering like some landlubber bent on—”

  “I’m Emily. Emily Rundle. And you are?” She still couldn’t see him, and not seeing him bothered her more than the prospect of coming face to face with him.

  “Emily? A sweet name for a sweet vision. You be not the Spanish witch who haunts me. Your hair is fiery like the red sky at night, not black as the raven’s wing of the she-devil herself.”

  “Roberta Menendez?”

  “Aye. Speak not her name in my presence.” Silence stretched between them. Then he added, “Are you in league with the witch?”

  “I sent her away.” She hoped he’d be pleased and more cooperative. Could a scurrilous pirate be accommodating?

  “You be the one she spoke of.”

  “She talked about me?” Emily couldn’t help the surprise in her voice.

  “Aye, that she did. She said you be the one to haunt me next.”

  And here she’d saved Roberta. Emily growled inwardly. “She was mistaken. I want to help you.”

  “Bah. You be English, not Spanish? You have the fair-skinned English look about you.”

  And Scottish, Irish, German, and just about every nationality but Spanish.

  Before she could speak, he said, “Kiss me, lass, before me lips grow moldy.”

  Now that was a delightful thought.

  “You want me gold?”

  “I want you to leave Granny alone, Captain Roberts.”

  “Granny? Who be that?” He didn’t correct her when she said his name, so she assumed it was him.

  “The elderly lady you pushed off the boat.”

  A significant pause followed.

  “Come, give me a kiss, lass.”

  She had no intention of kissing a ghost, especially a murderous pirate, but even if she wanted to she couldn’t see him.

  “Cut her loose, sails to the wind, we’ll be returning in the morn, girls, don’t ya cry,” Roberts sang.

  Emily walked toward the boat. “I know where your treasure is.” Still, she couldn’t see any sign of the ghost.

  “Me treasure? The daughter of the Spaniards said the same. But she wouldn’t tell me where it be.”

  “In the swamps. Your men—”

  “Scurrilous knaves. Rummies, the lot o’ them. Run off with me gold, they did.”

  “You were separated from them during a storm.”

  Silence.

  “Aye,” he finally admitted.

  “They’re waiting for you with the treasure.”

  He ignored her and began singing again. “What care we how stormy the seas? How big the Spaniard’s guns?” Captain Roberts abruptly ended his song. “My father was an English lord, did you know?”

  A pirate’s lie?

  “I was a wee lad aboard his ship when they killed him and the rest of the crew. Figured they’d use me for ransom, they did. Captain Harroway grew to like me, raised me as his own. Don’t remember much about my time before that.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “Died before I took to the High Seas.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve never had a redheaded wench before. Come, give me a kiss, lass. No landlubber can give you better.”

  She stirred in bed. Michael could give her better. Then a new thought disturbed her. How did Michael feel about his parents shipping him off to live with his grandmother? He must have felt awful. She would. And she felt terrible for not talking to him about it, the only person his age he had to commiserate with. As soon as she was able she’d try to bring it up, gently, so as not to upset him. Surely, he would want to discuss it with her.

  “Don’t be shy, lass.” Roberts grew quiet. “She was a young beauty, Meg, me true love. Wept when I left at the last. Green eyes like yours, sparkled like diamonds, lips a ruby red, and plump, like yours, but hair as golden as the summer sun.” His voice was filled with regret. “I promised her I’d return and give up me ways. For her, I would have done it. One last sail, one last time, and with the booty I would’ve settled down. A lady she was, daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in London. You, lass, remind me of her. The same milk-white skin, the same stubborn chin.”

  Emily wanted to get rid of the pirate for Granny’s sake. But now, she couldn’t help feel just a little sorry for the murdering thief, realizing he dealt with the life given him the best way he could. Now, she wanted to help him leave this place, to give him the peace he deserved. Maybe he could find his way back to his Meg.

  “I…” Her thoughts seem to fade into the dark, until that blasted alarm rang, shattering her nerves.

  The first thought Emily had was concerning Roberta, her necklace, and sending Armando away. She shivered and jumped out of bed, determined they’d be successful today.

  Chapter 16

  Emily had heard her father’s car drive off earlier this morning and she was kind of glad because she was afraid he might give her another lecture about swamps, ghosts,
and Michael. But she assumed her mother would greet her with her usual cheerful smile before Emily went to school. Instead, she found a note pasted on the fridge in her mother’s neat handwriting.

  Emily, I have a second interview at McKinley and Sons law office first thing this morning, honey!!! It looks like I might get that secretarial position!! See you after school.

  Hugs and kisses.

  Love, Mom.

  Delighted everything was working out for her mother and that she didn’t seem to know about Emily’s late night trip to the swamp with Michael, she snatched an English muffin from its package and heated it in the microwave. But she again wondered about Michael’s parents and why he wasn’t living with them or why he never mentioned them except to tell her a falsehood. Maybe she could talk to Granny first and feel the situation out. Maybe his grandmother could mention to Michael he could share his feelings with Emily.

  After gulping down a glass of milk, Emily dashed outside earlier than usual, thankful her father had been agreeable to Michael still seeing her. But after she slammed the door shut and started across the driveway Red, Rocky, and Daniel sauntered out from behind a row of evergreen hedges, greeting her with grim faces.

  Her heart took a dive, and she yanked her book bag over her shoulders to free her hands.

  Red fisted his hands on his hips, and his green eyes narrowed into dangerous daggers. His freckles expanded, and his cheeks looked feverish they were so red. “You sicced the police on us.”

  Ohmigod, time for retribution. She glanced at Michael’s house, hoping he might be watching out his window for her, or that his grandmother might have sensed she was in trouble. But Emily had left the house earlier than usual so Michael wouldn’t be expecting her yet. Granny usually slept in late, according to Michael, so she’d get no help there. But their kitchen light shone brightly through the window, giving Emily a small bit of hope.

  She steeled her back, but she didn’t think she could take on all three of the boys at once. Thankfully, the kid driving the flame-painted car wasn’t here. “You shouldn’t stalk people and trash their cars. When you do the crime—”

  “We didn’t trash your car,” Daniel snarled. His spiked blonde hair looked like a porcupine zapped by a bolt of lightning, and his pants puddled around his sneakers, which might trip him up. The boy took a menacing step in her direction, both fists raised, his blue eyes glowering. “You take that back and tell the police you lied.”

  She took a step back, not wanting to show she was scared, but her late night expedition into the swamps, and then the conversation with Captain Roberts even later, left her a little foggy-headed.

  Daniel shoved her shoulder. Hard.

  That was it! Her mind switched gears into overdrive. Self-preservation and the anger that instantly replaced the fear, sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. She yanked her book bag around and slugged Daniel in the shoulder with it as hard as she could.

  Not the best thing she could have done. He cursed her and fell sideways, bumping into Red, who shoved him back.

  His black hair blowing in the humid breeze, Rocky came in to punch her. She quickly forced Red to stick his foot out and tripped him. Rocky swore and took a nosedive into a raised mound of dirt.

  Like sailors boiling out of a sinking ship, the fire ants poured out of their home and attacked the menace, which had slammed into their mound face first.

  Screaming and dancing, Rocky brushed away the vicious insects clinging to his face. Red welts appeared on his tanned skin like angry zits.

  Before either Red or Daniel could react, Michael ran out of his house, a baseball bat in his hand. His grandmother chased after him with a cell phone to her ear. “Yes, yes, the boys are trying to hurt Emily.” His grandmother, wearing a flowery housecoat, bright blue slippers, and pink hair curlers, glared at the boys, and said, “I’m talking to the police.”

  Immediately, all three scattered.

  Michael grabbed Emily’s book bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Next time, I pick you up from your house.”

  She glanced at the bat in his other hand. “You play baseball?”

  “Not any longer. I did when I was a kid, but Granny always kept it for me, just in case I decided I wanted to play again.”

  “Good thing.”

  “They’ve run off,” his grandmother said into the phone. “Thank you. Michael’s taking her to school now.” She said goodbye and turned off the phone.

  Michael tossed Emily’s bag into his car. “We’ll see you after school, Granny.”

  “Thanks, Granny,” Emily said.

  “You take good care of her. If the poltergeist gives you any trouble school, come get me.” Granny hurried back into the house.

  “We’ll break in tonight,” Emily said, as if she did that sort of thing on a regular basis.

  Michael shook his head. “And here your Mom and Dad wanted me to watch out for you.”

  “You will be watching out for me.”

  “I don’t think they had this kind of thing in mind. Breaking into schools, trudging through swamps in the middle of the night. Good thing my parents don’t live here.”

  The opening she needed, but Michael’s grandmother waved goodbye from the kitchen window as they climbed into his car, distracting her. Then Michael began to talk before she had a chance to question him about his parents.

  “I couldn’t believe Red and his thugs targeted you before school. I was so sure it would be after school, and for whatever reason, they were riding the bus,” Michael said, his voice filled with regret.

  She wanted to ask about his parents, except he seemed a little shook up about the incident with the bullies. “You didn’t have any premonitions of this?”

  “No, or I would have picked you up beforehand. I’d just gone in the kitchen to finish eating my scrambled eggs when I heard Rocky yell. What did you do to him?”

  “Gave him a fire ant facial.” She chuckled when Michael raised a brow at her. “So, I heard what Dad said to you last night.”

  He glanced at her, then backed out of the drive. “You eavesdropped?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to protect you in case Dad got really mad.”

  “He had every right to be. If our roles had been reversed, I’d have been furious if some guy had taken my daughter into the swamps in the dead of night.” He took a deep breath. “Did he chew you out?”

  “Nah. He understood. He told me to keep you around so that you can make sure I’m safe. As if I wouldn’t.”

  “You didn’t keep me close when you were running around the boys’ locker room.”

  Emily laughed. He would never let her live that down.

  The boy in the flame car roared on past them and slammed to a stop at Emily’s house. “Looks like Red and his friends’ ride is here. But they’ve all scattered.”

  “Doesn’t look like they’re coming. Nope, the kid with the car is heading back out of the district.” Michael glanced at Emily’s blue shirt decorated in glitter surrounding the picture of a medieval castle. “What happened to that other shirt with the great sentiment on it? ‘I will not talk to boys’?”

  She grinned and shook her head. “I can’t wear that shirt all the time.”

  “Yeah, but it’s my favorite. Maybe we can get one made that says ‘I will not talk to ghosts’.”

  “And like with the other, the words would fade into oblivion, just like a ghost does.”

  His expression turned contemplative. “About tonight…”

  Emily combed her fingers through her hair. “I sure wish we could have done the deed last night. I feel awfully weird about going to school today.”

  “I have a feeling Red and his thugs won’t be around. They know the police will want to talk to them at school, and I bet anything they’ll stay clear of the place.”

  “So all we have to worry about is Armando.” Emily pulled Roberta’s gold cross from her jeans pocket and studied the necklace glistening in the morning sunlight. “Maybe we can send him away during
school and won’t have to come back tonight.” That would be the perfect solution. No breaking and entering. No slipping away from her parents in the middle of the night without a word. But she wasn’t sure she could handle Armando without Granny’s help.

  “If he tries to lure you away from a class I’m not in, don’t you go chasing after him.”

  “Nope, wouldn’t try that. Not after realizing how dangerous he can be.”

  Michael reached over and patted Emily’s leg. “If Granny is right, we need her to help us.”

  “She’s probably right.”

  “She wanted to come with us this morning, but I had to convince her it wouldn’t work out.” He looked at Emily when they came to a red light. “But I mean it, Emily. You have that determined look in those catlike green eyes that says if you have the chance, you’d take it.”

  “What if the chance does present itself? I mean, what if it’s just Armando and me—”

  “And me.”

  “Well, yes, but what if the person who murdered him isn’t around? If I could send Armando away, we wouldn’t have to break into the school or anything. Wouldn’t that be better?”

  At the green light, Michael accelerated. “Yeah, if it would work out that way. But I still believe we need Granny’s help.”

  She sighed heavily and stared out the window.

  Michael took a deep breath, the same worry plaguing him since he’d met her. Could he keep her safe when he couldn’t take care of Susie? He couldn’t control the anxiety that strangled him concerning Emily. He sensed if she thought she could give Armando peace, and free herself from his influence by herself, she would—even if Michael wasn’t there to protect her. Though he didn’t think he’d be of much use except maybe breaking the spell and hurrying her out of doors. The ghost didn’t seem to follow her except at school.

  Michael even contemplated going to the classes they didn’t have together just to make sure he could keep her safe. But would the teachers allow him to sit in on her classes?

  For the first couple they were together, so he wouldn’t sweat it. After that, he’d play it by ear. He parked at the school and realized they were early.

  “Michael, there’s something else.”