by D. G. Swank
“Because I talked to a witness. He saw the whole thing, and he said the driver actually sped up when he saw her.”
He gaped at me in shock. “You mean the guy ran her over on purpose?”
“No, he was definitely upset. The witness said the driver got out of the car babbling about feeling something press his foot harder on the gas.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Piper. Maybe he reacted poorly and he stepped on the wrong pedal. It happens.” But he didn’t seem as sure as he had before. His shoulders stiffened. “I take it the McNamaras are ghost clients?”
I hesitated. “Yeah, but you can’t talk me out of going, so don’t waste your time.”
“I’m not planning to talk you out of it. I’m going with you.”
Chapter Ten
Had he lost his mind? “I usually see my clients during the day, Hudson. You have to go to work.” Hudson and his boss hadn’t been getting along lately, and if he found out his newest financial planner was leaving the office to help his best friend talk to ghosts . . . it wouldn’t go well.
“I’ll rearrange my schedule. I don’t have any clients of my own this afternoon. What time is your appointment?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you want to go? I’m surprised you’re not trying to talk me out of it.”
“Is there any chance in hell of that actually happening?”
“No.”
“Yeah, I’d pretty much figured that out. I didn’t see any reason to waste my time and breath. Now what time is your appointment?”
“Three.”
He nodded. “Do I need to . . . do anything first?”
I gave him a half-hearted grin. “I don’t usually dress up for them. Last night was an aberration. Do you want to meet me at the McNamaras’ house?”
“No. I’ll pick you up. At your house?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll text you.” We were silent for a few moments, then I said, “For what it’s worth, you deserve better than the way Charlotte treated you. I was being a bitch. Your love life is your business, not mine.”
He sighed. “You were right. About all of it. I was stupid to trust her, and I shouldn’t have moved in with her after I sold my condo. It was too soon.”
“We all do stupid things for love, Hudson. Remember? I’m Exhibit A with Gill.”
“Only you didn’t really love him. You just put up with him because your grandmother couldn’t stand him.”
I had to admit there was some truth to that. “In any case, you can stay with me for as long as you like. It’ll be fun. Just like old times.”
He laughed. “It was terrible when we lived together back in college.”
“We’re older now. More responsible.”
“Says the woman who dropped out of law school to pretend to talk to ghosts.”
“Touché.”
“Why’d you really drop out of law school? The truth. Not the you weren’t sure it was what you wanted to do with your life version. The Piper I know would have finished anyway.”
I leaned back into the seat and closed my eyes. “The truth isn’t all that exciting or satisfying.”
“Try me.”
I thought about it for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Something felt off,” I finally said, “like deep in my core. Law school made me anxious.”
He sat up, looking concerned. “Did you see a doctor? You could have gotten anti-anxiety drugs to help.”
I forced a laugh. There was so much more to it than that, but even though he’d somewhat accepted that I’d seen several ghosts and a demon, I wasn’t ready to cop to the rest of my eccentricities.
“Still, you left without a plan,” Hudson said. “That’s unlike you too.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He waited for more of an explanation, and when I didn’t provide one, he said, “That codicil must have thrown you, yet you’ve refused to talk about it.”
So we were digging into the trash heap of my life. I pushed out a huge sigh. “Truth is I couldn’t handle it.”
“That’s bullshit. You can handle anything.”
I turned my head to look at him, tears welling in my eyes. “No. I can’t.”
He reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing. “I’ve let myself get wrapped up in my own problems even though I knew you needed me. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“I’m here for you now, Piper. I’ll help you through all of this.”
“So you believe I’m seeing ghosts?”
“I don’t know what you’re seeing, but I know you’re not crazy.” He shot me a quick glance. “And what if whoever killed Gill comes after you next?”
“You’re still presuming a person killed him,” I sniffed out.
He pulled into my driveway and put the car in park. I hadn’t even realized we were getting close. “Yeah, because seeing dead people is one thing, but demons . . . Nope. Not going there.”
Warmth flooded my chest. “So you’re going to the McNamaras’ to protect me?”
His gaze held mine. “Yeah. I’m stepping up. Sorry it took me a few months.”
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a hug. “Thanks, Hudson.”
He reached up and hugged me back. “Let’s just hope this goes away quickly and life goes back to normal.”
As if life could go back to normal after the past twenty-four hours.
Releasing me, he said, “Text me the McNamaras’ address and tell me where to pick you up. What will you be doing until then?”
I opened the car door and started to get out. “I’ve got some genealogical research to do.”
After a restless nap, I started scouring the internet, but I hadn’t learned very much by lunchtime. My father had never talked much about his family—I only really knew his parents’ names and that his family had lived close to the coast for a couple of centuries. I threw in the towel and texted Rhys that I needed help. She texted a few minutes later.
Have you had lunch yet?
No.
I’ll be there in a half hour with food.
My kitchen was pretty bare, so at least I knew where my next meal was coming from. Rhys showed up at my kitchen door twenty-five minutes later with a takeout bag.
“There’s a new vegan place downtown. Don’t worry, I got you something you’ll like.” She set the bag on the kitchen table and took a long look at my computer screen. “How much progress have you made?”
“I found out my father’s mother’s parents’ names.”
She put a hand on her hip and scowled. “That’s it?”
“I have no idea how to do this or even why. What’s the point of finding out a bunch of dead people’s names?”
“They’re your family!”
“So?” I asked. “I never knew them, so what does it matter?”
“Everyone has a story, Piper. Maybe you’re supposed to find the right story.”
“That’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Well, you’ve had your dad’s instructions for nearly six months, right? Maybe you weren’t supposed to procrastinate.”
I pushed out a huge sigh. While I really didn’t want to admit it, she was right.
“Where’s the codicil?” she asked. “Maybe it will make more sense now that we know . . . well, whatever it is we know.”
“Up in my room.”
“Go get it, and we’ll look over it while we eat.”
I headed upstairs, grabbed the file, and took it down to the kitchen. Rhys had already pulled two carryout containers out of the bag—one sat in front of my chair, and the other sat in front of hers. She’d even set out silverware.
I cautiously opened the lid, relieved to find rice and beans. “Don’t you have a class to go to?”
“Lucky for us both, it got cancelled. I have all afternoon. I thought I could go to the McNamaras’ place with you. Then your other appointment.”
“Hudson has already volunteered to
be my babysitter.”
She lifted her fork. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He’s worried whatever killed Gill is after me, so he wants to come protect me.”
“And how does he plan to fight off a demon?”
“That’s just it.” I took a bite of my rice, happy to find it tasted good. The little time Rhys was with me, she was constantly trying to turn me vegan. Too bad I loved eggs and butter too much. “He refuses to believe it’s a demon. He thinks it’s a human.”
“After you proved you saw a ghost this morning? You’re kidding!”
I shrugged. “Can you blame him? It’s a pretty big leap. But you’re right, we have to face the fact that it probably is a demon . . . and figure out how to fight it off until I find the daggers. If I find the daggers. I have no idea how to protect myself.”
“Are you wearing the necklace?”
“No,” I said. “I’m scared to put it back on.”
“But if you’re really a demon hunter, you need all the help you can get.”
“Listen to yourself,” I said. “Me? A demon hunter? I’ve never even shot a weapon of any kind. I’ve never taken a single self-defense class, and I certainly don’t own any leather. I can not be a demon hunter.”
“Yet you’re the one seeing ghosts and demons.”
And I didn’t like it one bit.
“So, what does the codicil actually say?” Rhys asked.
I pulled it out of its envelope and scanned the sheet. The sight of it brought up a dozen different emotions, but I wasn’t ready to deal with any of them yet. “It says I have until my twenty-fifth birthday to study my father’s family tree and prove I’m a direct descendant of Ananias Dare.”
“Wait,” she said, her voice rising. “I thought you only had to look into it.” Her face was drawn with panic. “Piper, do you know how impossible it will be to prove you’re related to Ananias Dare of the Lost Colony of Roanoke?”
I sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I know.” And all one hundred seventeen members of that colony had disappeared without a trace. Unless you believed all those skeletons the researchers claimed to have found at the reappeared colony really belonged to the colonists. “Why do you think I haven’t put any effort into this?”
“To tick off your grandmother.”
“Purely a bonus,” I said.
“You can’t prove this. It’s hopeless.”
I scooped another bite of rice and beans into my mouth. She was right, and we both knew it.
But Rhys grabbed the document from me to keep reading. “This doesn’t say anything about any daggers. It says you’re supposed to find evidence of a supernatural curse between Ananias Dare and Manteo.” She looked up. “Do you know who Manteo is?”
I waved my fork dismissively. “He had something to do with the Lost Colony.”
She groaned. “He was like the ambassador between the Native Americans and the English.”
Grumbling, I scooped up more rice. “Whatever. We’re probably just wasting time. What I should be doing is putting this place up for sale. It’s stupid to keep it. I’m one person living in a huge house that needs multiple major repairs.”
“I know you’re opposed to renting out rooms in the main house for some odd reason, but you should at least consider renting out the apartment over the garage.”
“Huh . . . I wonder how much I can get for it.”
“Enough to make it possible for you to keep this monstrosity for a while longer. Although, I’m not sure why you don’t want to sell it. Doesn’t it get weird living here all alone?”
It had always been lonely, but never weird. “Not until yesterday.”
She turned back to the papers and read for a half minute before she said, “Don’t you think it’s odd that this codicil, which your father left for you to open six months before you turned twenty-five, had to do with the Lost Colony? And that the damn thing reappeared during that six-month period?”
“Of course it’s odd. It’s downright bizarre, and it can’t possibly be coincidental, but I have no idea what to do about it. Or about any of it for that matter. Twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t believe in ghosts . . . and now this.”
Her mouth pursed, her thoughtful look, and she was quiet for a long moment before she said, “Weren’t your parents’ murders odd too?”
My parents had been dead over half my life at this point, and I was mostly immune to the pain of losing them. But for some reason, this was like opening fresh wounds and tears stung my eyes. “Yeah . . .”
Rhys grabbed my arm. “Oh jeez, Piper. I’m sorry. That was pretty blunt.”
I took a breath. “They were murdered fifteen years ago. There’s no changing that. And yes, the whole thing was odd. They were shot in a restaurant parking lot. They weren’t robbed. The police caught the guy who did it, but he wouldn’t reveal his motive. Only said he did it for a group called the Guardians, although that part never made the paper.”
“How’d they catch him?” Rhys asked. “Did someone in the parking lot tackle him or something?”
“No,” I said, my chest tightening. “I gave the police a description.”
“Oh my God,” she gushed in shock. “You were there?”
“I’d left my jacket in the restaurant, so my dad let me go in by myself to get it while he stood at the car and watched me. When I came out, that guy was pointing a gun at my parents and asking where I was. I hid behind a car, too terrified to do anything. My mother was crying and asking why he wanted me, but my father looked furious. He said they couldn’t stop him.”
“They who?” Rhys asked.
I shook my head. “The police thought it was related to some case he was working on . . . a civil rights case.” I shook my head. “The man with the gun was upset. He said they’d already screwed up with Manteo and he couldn’t afford to let this one get screwed up too. So he started shouting my name and telling me to come out. He knew I was hiding, which meant he must have followed us there.”
“Oh my God.”
“My father shouted for me to stay hidden. Right about that time, a family came out of the restaurant—not realizing what was going on—and my father lunged for the gun. It went off and the guy shot my father. My mother started screaming, and he shot her too. Then he got in an old van and took off. I gave a detailed description to the police, including part of the license plate number, and they caught him hours later at a motel. When they interrogated him, he said he was acting on behalf of a group called the Guardians and that they killed my father for reasons he couldn’t explain. The next day they found him dead in his cell. He’d hanged himself.”
Rhys’s eyes were flooded with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
I gave her a tight smile and shrugged.
“Do you think he was after you?”
“The police thought he’d been hired by someone to take out Dad’s whole family to send a message to the other people involved in the civil suit. You know, a message that continuing the suit would be a risk to them and their families. The cops could never prove it, but it worked anyway. The other plaintiffs all dropped the lawsuit.”
“And the Guardians?”
“The police never gave it much effort, from what I could tell. They presumed it was all related to the civil rights case. There was a group that claimed to be the guardians of the old South, and they’d sent my dad several threats. The police figured the guy’s statement was proof they were involved.” I paused and put down my fork. “No one ever told me those parts, of course. I read them in the police report that I requested once I turned eighteen.”
“Did they figure out the link to Manteo?”
“As far as I could tell, they let that go. I was the only witness, and the detective claimed I was a hysterical child. My statement couldn’t be trusted.”
“Even though your statement was what helped them find the guy?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yeah.”
She took a bite of her food, her expression contemplative, and after
she swallowed, she said, “I think we should look into your parents’ murders. We should look into what happened in Manteo.”
“You mean to Manteo,” I said. “What does it matter what happened to some Native American guy who lived over four centuries ago? How does that help us now?” I sounded sulky even to my own ears.
“Manteo is also the name of a town on Roanoke Island. We need to look into any criminal activity that happened there around that time.”
She was right. I’d just chosen to distance myself from my parents’ deaths, the codicil, all of it . . . Well, I didn’t have the luxury of denial anymore.
“We also have to find those daggers Mr. Mysterious mentioned,” I said, still in shock that this was happening . . . and that we believed in it.
“True on all counts,” she said. “But the chances of us finding them before your appointment with the McNamaras is slim to none. You need to protect yourself in case you come across something nasty at their house. Their daughter committed suicide. There’s bound to be some bad juju going on there.”
A cold chill swept through me. “Maybe I should cancel.”
“There’s no judgment from me if you do.”
I sat back in my chair. “Why do I sense a big ‘but’ in there?”
“You talked to that ghost this morning—an actual ghost, Piper. You helped him, and he gave you some information about the other side in return.”
“But he didn’t finish. Besides, even if the McNamaras have a real haunting, which they might not, who’s to say I’ll see this ghost? I’m pretty sure I heard Miss Louisa’s father when I left her house yesterday, but he didn’t have a body.”
“Maybe you weren’t open to it yet. I know you like helping people. Think of how much more you can do for them if you really see their loved ones’ ghosts.”
She had a point.
“I have an idea,” she pressed, “but hear me out before you shoot it down.”
I gave her a cautious look. “Now I’m scared.”
“It’s not dangerous. Just weird.”
“Go on . . .”
“When you think of demons and demon possession, who do you think of?”
“The two guys on that show Supernatural.”