by Mona Marple
“We command all spirits far and near, command you now to appear.” We continue, and the crowd begin to join in. I can pick out voices I know, some more confident than others. Mariam, speaking through sobs.
A woman squeals in the crowd and I look across to see more and more spirits arriving. The shy ones. The ones who wanted a peaceful afterlife. The ones who don’t respond when I try to channel them for loved ones.
“We command all spirits far and near, command you now to appear.” We continue, more and more voices joining in.
I look across the stage and see that the spirit I was waiting for has arrived.
Hadleigh searches the crowd for Devin, who attended reluctantly and seems to be one of the audience finding the gathering the most upsetting. She mutters the words, mouth barely moving, head fixed on the ground.
I nod towards Violet, who stops chanting and takes her seat. The crowd gradually realise she has stopped, and do the same. The way she commands an audience simply by choosing to start or stop speaking is amazing.
“Thank you.” I say.
“What’s the plan?” Patton whispers to me.
“Be on alert.” I whisper back and he nods.
I look straight at the murderer, into eyes that are cold and an amused smirk. The familiar dark energy makes me shiver.
“What took you so long?” They ask, and the audience gasp.
“You killed Lola.” I say, my voice trembling but somehow remaining loud and clear. Everyone needs to hear this. Their life is going to change forever because of this.
“And what are you going to do about it?” They ask, floating closer to me. I back up instinctively, moving towards to edge of the stage.
“We need the truth.” I call, glancing behind me. I’m just a few steps away from a six foot drop.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” The person says with a laugh as they survey the crowd. “I have nothing to lose, do I? I’ve already lost it all.”
“Help us understand.” I say.
“There’s nothing to understand.”
The audience begin to mutter between themselves, speculation flying.
I sense someone approaching and turn to the side, see Desiree climbing the steps at the side of the stage. She comes over and stands by my side, gives me a reassuring nod.
“You shouldn’t be up here alone.” She whispers.
“Brave, Ms Montag.” The spirit sneers. “We’re up here sharing our secrets. Are you sure you want to join in?”
I think back to Troy’s words. I guess we both have our secrets.
I feel Desiree begin to shake beside me and reach for her hand.
“Careful, Connie. Don’t make Mariam jealous.” The spirit says with a sneer. I squeeze Desiree’s hand tighter but she pulls away from me and takes a step towards the spirit, back straight, chin up.
“I’m not scared. Not any more.” She says, then looks out into the audience, her eyes finding Mariam. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for keeping you a secret when I’m so damn proud of you.”
“I love you.” Mariam calls to Desiree.
“I love you more.” Desiree says, and she blows a kiss to Mariam before returning her attention to the spirit on the stage. “Your turn, Desmond.”
He laughs. “Nettie was spending my money. I had to stop it.”
“It was her money. It was all left to her.” I call across to him.
“She didn’t earn a cent of it. It’s mine!” He shouts, cheeks flashing red.
“So you framed her?” I ask.
“I had to.” He says. “When I saw her argue with Lola, it was too good an opportunity. I’m an investment banker. I look for opportunity and then get in quick. It’s what I do. So I did it.”
“How could you kill Lola? What had she ever done to you other than love you?” I ask.
This makes him laugh hysterically. “Love? That girl knew nothing about love. It was a business deal.”
“But still, she’d done nothing wrong to you.”
“I guess not.” Desmond says with a shrug, as if the question is only just occurring to him.
“I was good to you.” A voice comes, and everyone turns. Lola Anti floats down the walkway, people ducking out of her way as she passes. She joins us on stage and glares at Desmond. “I was better than you deserved.”
“Well.” He says with a smile. “That’s a common theme from my life.”
“You’re a monster.” Lola says, and her words hang in the air.
“You knew what you were getting into, little girl.” Desmond taunts. “You had a good ride. All your bills paid. Pocket money to spend. It wasn’t going to last forever.”
“Desmond Frasier, you murdered Lola Anti.” I call, voice steady now. I will get justice.
Desmond grins at me, his fox-like features relaxed. Untouchable.
“Yes, I did. And it’s the perfect crime. Nobody’s going to believe that a ghost killed someone. Nettie will rot in prison and when it’s time, I’ll be brought back to life and my money will be waiting for me. You fools will all be long gone by then, I expect.”
“Atticus?” I call.
Atticus is by my side within a moment, nodding slowly.
“Desmond. We can’t allow this behaviour in our spirit community.” Atticus begins.
“Sit down, old man.” Desmond says, advancing towards us. I step back again, too close to the edge of the stage.
Mariam is up from her chair in the audience, but Troy grabs her and forces her to remain in place. I flash a grateful smile at him.
“You can’t do anything now. You’re not in charge any more.” Desmond continues.
Atticus looks towards Patton, who nods.
“Desmond Frasier, a bench of your peers have considered your actions and feel we have no choice but to banish you.”
“To what?” Desmond asks, incredulous.
“You will spend eternity in Nowhere.”
Desmond laughs. “You must be kidding me.”
“This is no joke.” I say. “You’ve messed with the wrong town, Desmond.”
Atticus holds out his arm, points at Desmond, who remains rooted in place, unable to move. “I pronounce you banished.”
And with that, there is a pop of white light, a cloud of smoke, and he is gone. Forever.
The crowd begin to murmur between themselves, and then someone begins a round of applause.
I face the crowd, just a centimeter from having fallen off the stage, and await their silence.
“Ladies and gentlemen, for your own safety, we have no choice but to cast a spell over the whole of Mystic Springs. All living people will be able to see the spirits in this town now, for good.”
There’s a commotion as people turn to the person sitting next to them to check they’ve heard correctly.
“I quite like it.” Mariam says, the first to talk above the general chatter.
Atticus returns to her side. She faces him, glances at Desiree, gives a nervous smile.
“I love you, my darling girl.” He says, then turns his own attention to Desiree. “And you? I thought you were taking advantage of her when I saw you out of work together. Unpaid overtime, you know. This is better.” He says, stroking his beard. He nods. “Yes, this is much better. I don’t want her to be alone.”
“She won’t be.” Desiree says, beaming at Mariam.
“That settles it then.” Atticus says.
“Meeting dismissed.” I call with a laugh. People begin to shift in their seats but nobody is in a hurry to leave.
“So, are you a witch then?” Someone calls out to Violet Warren.
She grins, pushing her bright glasses back up her nose. “That’d be telling.”
27
Sage
It takes precisely thirty-seven minutes before the first living person approaches me and tells me how beautiful I am.
I mean, I thought it’d happen quicker, but I guess they have to build up some nerve.
“Oh thank you.” I say,
and then Patton’s right beside me like white on rice, would ya believe.
“Shall we take a walk?” He asks.
I tilt my head to one side because frankly I look adorable when I do that, and then I let him hold the door open for me and we escape outside. The sun is just setting, the sky transformed into a palette of oranges and dusky pinks. We float across to a bench that faces the springs, hear the roar of the water cascading.
“We did it.” I say, smiling at Patton. “We cracked the case.”
“You’ve been amazing.” He says. “I know I underestimated you at first. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I’m used to it.” I say. “People can’t believe someone would have this much beauty, and brains.”
He laughs.
“It’s going to be strange, being seen by people again.”
“Damn right it is.” Patton agrees as an older woman with a tiny dog in a pushchair walks by, staring at us.
“Good evening.” I say and she practically bursts into a run.
“That woman will have my life when she stops being scared.” Patton says. “Mrs Jacobson. She’s the neighbor from hell. New complaint every week about kids playing soccer near her house and stuff. Once, the ice cream truck was too loud.”
“She sounds like a hoot.” I say as the woman disappears off towards town, stealing a backwards glance towards us every few steps.
“I’ve enjoyed spending this time with you, Sage.” He says, suddenly serious, and I feel my stomach flip.
“I’m married, you know.” I say. I look up at him through my thick lashes, see the disappointment flash across his face before he recovers and smiles.
“Of course.” He says. “Is he… is he, here?”
I shake my head. “Married in name only. Things were falling apart when I died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, don’t be. Patton, I’ve been dead a long time.” I say with a small laugh. “He’s passed too, but we’re not together. I mean, we met up when he passed, I went to greet him, but it was pretty clear one life was enough for us to be together.”
He nods. “I never settled down.”
“Because of work?”
“I guess.” He says. “I was pretty ambitious, always wanting to work my way up the ranks to Sheriff and then when I did, wanting to be the best Sheriff I could be.”
“You did a great job. Everyone loves you.”
He shrugs. “It would have been nice to go home to a woman, ya know?”
I feel my cheeks flush and don’t know what to say.
“Sorry, I should…”
“No.” I object. “Don’t stop talking.”
“Okay.” He says with a chuckle but then remains silent. The moment has passed and I want to claw it back.
“It is kind of lonely sometimes.” I say, my voice small. “I mean, I’ve got Connie, but she can’t spend all her time with the dead, that’s not healthy.”
“You’ve got me.” Patton says, glancing across at me and braving a small smile.
I nod.
And then a cough comes from behind us.
“So… Mariam and Desiree, hey?” Atticus asks. He gazes at us both.
“Who cares.” I say with a shrug. “Happiness is all that matters.”
“Yes it is.” Patton says, and he takes my hand in his.
**
Connie’s on the veranda when I return home, her feet tucked under a blanket, a glass of sweet tea in her hand. Her eyes are open, but I can sense how tired she is.
“You did it.” I call out, sitting by her feet on the painted wood.
“We did it.” She corrects.
“When did you realise it was him?”
“I had my suspicions when Lola hit Taylor, and then when Troy told us it was a spirit, it just had to be him. I didn’t think getting him to confess would be so easy.”
“He thought he was untouchable.” I say.
“I think most of us thought that banishing spirits was just a story, not real.”
“I didn’t think it was real.” I admit. “And I doubt Desmond had even heard about it as a possibility.”
“What a horrid man he was.”
I nod. “Talking of men…”
Connie looks at me.
“I might have just had a moment with Patton.” I say, feeling like a teenager girl. I can remember the days when I’d get a love letter passed across to me in class or left in my locker, how I’d race into Connie’s bedroom after school and tell her about it in the tiniest detail. How she’d always tolerate my gushing, while never having a similar story to share with me.
“You two seriously need to get a room.” She says, pulling the blanket tighter across her. A young couple walk past and raise their hands to wave. When Connie returns the greeting, I do too, and I feel myself begin to return to a community, begin to feel part of the world again.
“He’s so handsome.” I say.
“He’s totally your type.” She agrees.
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” I say, and her head swivels around to me. “I know I have you. But you know what I mean.”
“I don’t tell you you’re beautiful often enough, do I?” She teases.
“Ha ha.”
“You know, Sage, I like Patton. I do.”
“But?” I ask.
“There isn’t a but.”
“There’s always a but with you.” I say. When John Timberlake started walking me home from school, Connie was ready with the warnings. And when Dave Mitchell brought me a red rose and invited me to prom, Connie was there telling me to be careful. It’s in-built, like she has no choice. I see the handsome men and feel the butterflies in my stomach while all she can see are the things that could go wrong.
“Can I join you?” A voice calls, and we both look up then.
Nettie looks radiant in a pale yellow tea dress with sandals, her hair is twisted into some kind of intricate up-do and finished with a yellow flower, and her cheekbones could cut through me if she came much closer. At her feet stands a small suitcase.
“Going somewhere?” Connie asks.
Nettie glances at the suitcase then back at us, and she actually looks at both of us. This is going to take some getting used to.
“No way.” She says. “These are my things from the jail. I managed to convince Sheriff Morton to return home and pack some of my things after the first night. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Have you heard the news?” Connie asks. “I mean, I’m guessing you’ve been told you’re not a suspect any more or you wouldn’t be standing here.”
“I know my husband was trying to frame me.” Nettie says with a tight nod. “He really is the gift that keeps on giving.”
“He won’t be bothering anyone again.” I say.
“I don’t think we’ve met?” Nettie says, and I hear the shake of nerves in her voice.
“I’m Sage. Connie’s sister.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Nettie says. “I just wanted to come across and say thank you. You believed in me.”
“I knew you wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh no.” Nettie says. “I hated that girl but I couldn’t have killed her.”
“Are they reopening Desmond’s case?” I ask.
Nettie shakes her head. “I don’t think anyone’s particularly keen to spend their time on that, not now.”
“That must be a relief.” Connie says. “You can just move forward with your life now.”
“I intend to.” Nettie says. She picks up the suitcase and gives us a smile.
THE END
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Mona Marple is a lover of all things bookish. That’s a word, right?
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Mona Marple is the creator of the Mystic Springs paranormal cozy mystery series and the Waterfell Tweed cozy mystery series.
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