Veronica closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “This sucks. I can’t really blame him. I haven’t helped him at all, and all I’ve done is give him more grief to add to the rest with this revelation about Ariana’s abuse.”
“Veronica, please. You’ve done everything you can. You think I don’t know how you feel about walking through cemeteries? And you’ve done it twice.”
Veronica’s eyes flew open. “Melanie, that’s it.”
“What?”
“Mellie, you’re a genius.”
“Well, I always say so, but nobody listens. How have I been a genius this time, may I ask?”
“There were ghosts in the cemetery. I saw them. I mean, sort of. Anyway, they probably saw who dug up Ariana’s grave! I was so busy worrying that they were going to swarm me and being relieved that they didn’t, I didn’t even think of them as potential witnesses!”
“Oh.”
“Mel, I’m going to have to take a rain check on the tea and the old movie. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you if you want to go to Sunny’s Saturday; we’re doing a marathon. But we planned it before you were put on bed rest… maybe we should come to you…”
“Uh…”
“Anyway, we’ll talk about it later. I have to go.”
“To the cemetery, I’m guessing?”
“Yep. To the cemetery.”
~~~
Veronica breathed in and out deeply as she sat in her parked car. It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid all contact with spirits, like she used to. It was the fact that it was a cemetery. Cemeteries, hospitals, funeral homes… there were often a lot more ghosts hanging around. So if she invited them to talk to her, there was a very good chance she’d get swarmed, and some ghosts didn’t know how to communicate very effectively. Or, more accurately, they communicated too effectively—they communicated their terror, their rage, their pain—Veronica forced her breathing to slow again. Worrying about what might happen wasn’t going to make getting out of the car any easier.
She reached for her purse and fumbled through it, finding a pad of paper and a pen. Clutching them, she opened the door and stood up on the sidewalk, trying not to think about what might come next. One step at a time, she told herself.
No sense talking to the shimmers she saw as she first entered the cemetery. She needed witnesses to the grave robbery, and she couldn’t count on the ones nearer to the street for that. She walked briskly, pretending not to see anything, through the first sections of graves.
When she came to the section that held Ariana’s grave she noticed that the crime tape had been taken down. She wondered if it meant the police had given up investigating the robbery or if it just meant the crime scene unit was done with the area. Either way, at least now she could move around as she liked without worrying that someone might see her crossing the tape. She didn’t relish any living person seeing her speaking to the dead, either, but that couldn’t be helped, and at least it was unlikely to get her arrested.
Veronica came to a stop a few feet from Ariana’s open grave. There was no reason to wait any longer. It was time to see what she could find out from the ghosts in the vicinity. She had purposefully not been looking directly at the shimmers, the shadows, the hints of movement—now she turned slowly in a circle, and when she spotted a shadow that had no origin located near a grave about four yards away, she stared right at it.
The response was immediate. The shadow grew and shifted in color from neutral gray to green and then dark blue. It swirled as if blown by wind, through there wasn’t even a breeze. Veronica laced her fingers together and waited, tense, as she watched it grow bigger and loom over her. Still she didn’t look away, through now her heart was beginning to pound hard in her chest. The shadow plunged and she flinched as it engulfed her.
~~~
She was on a boat; she knew it immediately, between the smell of salt, the cold spray, and the rocking. She clung to a rail and someone rushed by, then the boat tilted sharply and she looked round in time to see a beam headed right for her.
~~~
Veronica’s hands flew out to her sides as if she might lose her balance, but the vision had ended as abruptly as it began.
“You died in a boating accident,” she said aloud, and the sound of her own shaky voice gave her a chill. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Yes.
She looked around but the shadow was gone. She couldn’t see anything to tie to the voice. “Okay. Well, whatever’s bothering you—keeping you here—tell me what it is and maybe I can help. If you help me, too.”
A message?
“You want me to deliver one? I can do that.”
In exchange…
“I need to know if you saw who disturbed this grave.”
Rustling noises—Veronica looked around. They came from somewhere behind her, not the same area as where the voice was coming from. Sure enough, another shimmer was approaching, and this one was making the grass, the leaves on bushes and trees, and bouquets of flowers whisper as it passed.
Then to the left of that she saw another. This one was forming the shape of a person.
And yet another shadow stretched out from behind a tall grave marker.
They knew now she could see them and talk to them.
“Okay, one at a time,” she said, but her voice sounded weak in her own ears.
Still more joined the rest, crowding in. This was just what she’d been afraid of.
The one that was shaped like a person reached out and made an arm stretch until the tip of what could be a finger touched her forehead. She gasped and doubled over, clutching her head. The pain was unreal. Nothing could hurt this much without killing.
“Daniel,” she whispered as tears squeezed from her eyes.
She should never have come here to do this alone.
Without warning the pain ceased and Veronica gasped again. But she felt to her knees as a cold wind hit her.
~~~
Screaming brakes mingled with screaming people. It was night. There were lights—headlights? But she couldn’t make any sense of it, and she added her own scream to the rest as everything rolled upside down and kept going—so fast—too fast—
~~~
The sound of beeping. It was too dark to see anything. But the smell was unmistakable. The disinfectant smell of a hospital. She could hear someone talking, but she couldn’t make out the words. She pulled away from the sound of the voice, not with her body, but with everything she was inside. She pulled away and out.
~~~
She was running. Above her the sky was dark but all around lights blazed. She saw dozens of others running, too. They wore uniforms—white and red, and yellow and black. And helmets. Football. She was on a football field, and she held the ball, and a feeling of wild exhilaration churned through her as she sprinted all out. But the others were running toward her, and Veronica knew how this memory would end.
No! she thought, every nerve taught. Enough! You have to stop! Back off!
~~~
A surge of light surrounded her and for a moment she thought she was in another vision.
The light pushed back the shadows, however, and she saw that she was kneeling on the ground, her fingers digging into the grass in front of her. She saw the graves as the light expanded, creating a circle of space around her.
Veronica blinked and tried to understand what had happened. She was caught in the crowd of ghosts, trapped by the visions they sent, and now they were gone. Not completely gone—she could see the movement beyond the light. Where had the light come from? What was it? Had she made it somehow?
But then it changed. It took on shape. And she saw the glowing wings she’d once known so well she couldn’t stop painting them.
It was her mother.
The wings extended around Veronica, making a vast circle, and in front of her she saw her mother’s body, resplendent with light, her face at peace as she gazed at Veronica, dark hair flowing around her head as if she w
as swimming under water.
It was the most beautiful thing Veronica had ever seen, but it opened a wound in her heart. She tried very hard never to think of her mother, in order to avoid feeling that pain. Seeing her now, glorious, peaceful, protective—joy mingled with sorrow so deep it made an overwhelming, growing ache she was sure would split her in two.
A sob erupted from her throat and Veronica clutched herself, her fingers digging into her sides. She couldn’t bear to look at her mother anymore. She cast her gaze beyond, to the spirits held back by the wings.
“One at a time!” she called, her voice breaking. She pressed a hand to her mouth, her fingers cold. After a few breaths, she tried again. “The one I spoke to, the one who died in a boating accident. Come first.”
~~~
After that, they each came one by one. She spent hours in the cemetery, listening to each, writing down notes. She spoke with seven in all, and she came away with images in her mind of the faces of the two men who had dug up Ariana’s grave.
Chapter 8
For five of the seven spirits she only had to write notes and mail them anonymously to the families. One wanted to tell his sister she was sorry they had fought, and that he wished he could take back the things he’d said, and that he forgave her for what she’d said to him. Another needed to tell her husband she gave him her blessing to pursue a new romance. To help another Veronica wrote out in detail events preceding the ghost’s death so that the family would understand that he had not committed suicide. The fourth had died in the hospital overhearing her family fight over the inheritance she left behind, and she wanted them to know how troubled she was by that. The fifth simply wanted to apologize for the sorrow she’d caused when she died in a car accident at the age of eighteen, shattering her family with the grief. In every case Veronica made sure to include every detail she could, Miguel’s accusations still ringing in her ears—she was relieved not to have to talk to anyone in person, but nevertheless she wanted them to believe what she told them was real.
For the remaining two, helping would be more complicated, and, no doubt, more unpleasant. It couldn’t be helped. For now she had to see Daniel before he got off of work.
She drove to the police station as fast as she dared, and hurried in, hoping to find Daniel at his desk. She saw him. He was talking on the phone. Her heart lifted, but of course before she could reach him, Felsen blocked her way.
Veronica flinched and took a step back.
“Miss Barry,” Felsen said, hazel eyes gleaming with malice. Her red hair was pulled tightly back from her face, making her features even harder than usual.
“Detective,” Veronica responded, trying to shoot Daniel a look, but he was turned mostly away from her and hadn’t noticed her approach.
“What’s this I hear about you going out for coffee with Eric tomorrow?”
After what she’d just experienced in the graveyard, Veronica didn’t feel particularly intimidated by Felsen, but she was also wiped out. “What’s it to you?” she said.
Felsen cocked her head to the side. “Eric and I are dating.”
Veronica let her breath out through her nose. “Yeah. I know.”
“Really? And when did you find out?” Felsen asked. Then she held up a hand. “No, let me guess. About five minutes before you called to make your coffee date?”
Veronica made a face. “Look, Felsen, can we get to the point here? I don’t know about you, but I have stuff to do.”
“Oh, you want me to get to the point?” Felsen said, the edge in her voice sharpening. “Alright. How about, don’t interfere in my relationships.”
“Or what?” Veronica said, feeling the blood beginning to pump harder in her veins. “You’re slipping, Felsen. Usually you follow up one of your charming attempts to communicate with me by tacking on some sort of threat.”
Felsen’s eyes glittered. Somehow, that was enough. Veronica’s fatigue evaporated.
“Let me make this simple for you,” Veronica said. “Eric was my friend long before he made the bewildering decision to date you. He will continue to be my friend, and as a result, I will get coffee with him any time I want. We are not in junior high here, okay? Deal with it.”
Veronica shoved past Felsen, but she could feel those hazel eyes boring into her back as she made her way to Daniel’s desk. By then, Daniel had noticed her and he was standing up with an expression of concern on his face.
“Hey,” he said as she approached. “Are you okay? What did she say to you?”
“Nothing important. I made plans to have coffee with Eric and she got wind of it somehow. In fact, I bet he told her. I think he likes needling women with their potential rivals for his affections or whatever.”
Daniel’s face darkened.
Veronica grabbed his hand. “But I’m not a potential rival for his affections, okay? We’re just friends and I do want to talk to him about Felsen to find out what the heck he was thinking dating her, but that’s as far as it goes. I promise.”
Whether or not Khalilah and Eric might hit it off when they “accidentally” met at the coffee shop wasn’t anything that should trouble Daniel, she reasoned.
Daniel shook his head. “I just don’t get what you see in that guy.”
“I know. But like I said, he’s just a friend now. That’s not going to change. You trust me, right?”
Daniel smirked at her. “Sure.”
She smiled back. “Good. Now, I need to look at some mug shots, and I also have some notes to give you on an unsolved murder.”
~~~
“Hey Mel, what’s up?” Veronica asked as she picked up the cell. She was on her way out of the precinct. Behind her she left Daniel with the names and pictures of the two men who’d robbed Ariana’s grave, as well as with information on the killing of a forty-five year old man a year before.
“V, after your call earlier there was something that just bugged me,” Melanie said—she sounded excited—”about what you told me, about what happened to Ariana.”
“Okay.” Veronica let herself into her car and sat down behind the wheel.
“So I did some research, and it took me a while, but I found it.”
“Found what?”
“I have to show you. Can you come over here?”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later, Veronica pulled up to the curb outside Melanie’s.
She let herself in, calling, “Honey, I’m home!”
Melanie lay on the couch, the same as before, but she had pulled the coffee table close to her and she had her laptop open on it. “Take a look at this,” she said as Veronica came into the room.
Veronica came around to stand behind the couch and peered at the screen. It was a newspaper article with a photo of Hector Santiago from some years ago. Next to him stood a man who looked familiar.
“Do you recognize these guys?”
“Well, that’s Hector Santiago. And that’s… is that Thad Bayer?”
“Yes!” Melanie exploded, and Veronica considered telling her to try to calm down. This level of excitement couldn’t be good for her blood pressure.
“Okay…”
“Don’t you see?” Melanie exclaimed. “Hector Santiago used to be friends with Thad Bayer, back when Bayer was just small time, on the radio.”
“Uh…”
“Veronica! Ariana said she was abused by one of her father’s friends, right?”
“And you think that friend is Thad Bayer?”
“Well, obviously,” Melanie said. “It makes perfect sense. He’s such a misogynist. It’s not a big leap from talking about how women and girls are all sluts and whores to acting on that hatred.”
“How old is this photo?” Veronica asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” Melanie said with glee. She used the mouse to circle the date. “The article is from eleven years ago.”
“Eleven years,” Veronica mused. “Ariana would have been twenty-one this year. So eleven years ago would have made her—”
“Ten.” Melanie beamed at Veronica in triumph. “And look at this,” she added, going to the next tab. “Just one year later, they’d had some sort of falling out.”
Veronica scanned the article. It showed separate photos of Hector, who was already a senator, and Bayer, who had just gotten national syndication for his radio show. The article described how the two men had been friends for years, especially since Bayer had gone to great lengths to support Hector’s bid for the senate seat, but that now word had it they weren’t speaking. The article contained nothing of substance about why they had fallen out.
“Okay,” she said to Melanie. “It’s possible you’re right about this.”
“Possible?” Melanie exclaimed.
“Mellie, please, it’s not healthy for you to get so worked up about this.”
Melanie rolled her eyes and let her head drop on her cushion dramatically. “Whatever, V.”
“It’s true! You have to think about your blood pressure.”
“What about Thad Bayer?”
“Well—the next time I talk to Ariana, how about I ask her?”
Melanie scowled. “And when will that be?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I doubt she’s following me around. She might be, I guess. But without something to touch, or being somewhere that’s important to her—” Veronica cut herself short.
“What?” Melanie prompted.
“I do have something of hers,” Veronica said.
Melanie’s eyebrows went up. “You do?”
“Yeah,” Veronica said. “A barrette. It’s what I was holding when she gave me the vision… the one where she told her mother about the abuse.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
Veronica sighed. After so many visions today, and seeing her mother, she felt all visioned-out. But Melanie was right. She had the means right there in her pocket. She could rule out Thad Bayer once and for all, and maybe Melanie would settle down and go back to watching TV. Of course, she’d been watching Bayer and that seemed to be the source of her agitation, so maybe watching TV wasn’t such a good idea. Veronica made a mental note to raid her bookshelves when she got home and bring Melanie back some novels.
The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4) Page 13