Ghostly Curse

by Cadie Snow

  “Either you leave, or I’ll forcibly remove you,” Ian said.

  Elijah gave Ian a demeaning look. “You could try, but I don’t think you have what it takes.” Then he turned and strode off.

  Jaime breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against Ian. “I’m so glad you showed up. He was pushing me to the limit.”

  “I could tell,” Ian said. “I don’t know about using witchcraft on him, but I was just about to slug him in the jaw.”

  Jaime smiled. “Really? I think I’d like to see that.”

  “You just might, if he doesn’t change his ways.”

  Ian escorted Jaime back to the party. The tributes had ended, so the guests had resumed dancing, talking, and eating. It was good that the scene with Elijah hadn’t disrupted the event. The special day to honor Iris would be remembered and talked about for quite some time.

  Jaime made a point to thank her cousins, especially Ava and Sophia. Everything was lovely, and the food was scrumptious. It would have been perfect if Elijah hadn’t barged in where he wasn’t wanted. The restraining order hadn’t come through yet, but her attorney assured her that it would. Jaime couldn’t wait for Elijah to receive the official notice to keep his distance. That couldn’t come soon enough.

  After the memorial ended, most of the guests went home, except for a few stragglers and the paid guests. Olivia had hired a cleanup crew, so the family didn’t have to deal with the task. She told them that they’d done enough and should go home to enjoy their evening.

  Not everyone who’d attended had been family. Iris had a wide range of friends, which included doubters who didn’t believe she had been a witch or could perform magic. That sector thought of Iris as eccentric, nothing more. Yet they had seen her as a friend, an entertaining one at that.

  Jaime had heard whispers about how Iris died and talk of where she’d been found. It kindled rumors; everyone had their theory. Yet no one voiced their opinion or criticized Iris, in life or in death. On the plus side, the family stuck together. Jaime wasn’t by herself; she had plenty of support in her task of discovering the truth.

  Late in the day, Jaime drove to the cemetery with Olivia and Harper. The casket was scheduled to be lowered, and they wished to pay their respects privately. Just the three of them were in attendance. The kids had gone home with Ava to spend some time with their cousins.

  The funeral director showed them out to the burial site, where the coffin was in front of the tombstone. He stepped back and said, “I’ll give you some time alone with her.”

  It was dusk, and the fading light cast the grounds in an ethereal glow. The grass was lush, green, and well manicured, the tombstones suitably maintained. Iris had wanted to be buried in that area with other relatives, including her sister Adele.

  Jaime stood in the middle and put her arms around Olivia and Harper. “We’re here, Aunt Iris. We love you.” Then the air around her shifted. For the first time since death, Jaime sensed her aunt’s spirit.

  Jaime held her breath, waiting for some communication. Emotions swirled around and she tried to put words to them. Iris was glad to see them; the affection was strong. But there was something else. Iris was angry and upset, yet not with her family.

  Olivia looked at the casket, clearly feeling the heavy emotion. And Harper’s rapt attention was an indication that she was ready to receive telepathic messages. Jaime tuned in to the vibrations and calmed her mind to tell what her aunt was trying to say.

  Possibly it was too soon after death, and Iris was still in turmoil. Jaime couldn’t get a clear reading, but she couldn’t miss the intent. Iris was disturbed, embroiled in unfinished business. The waves of emotion pulsed around Jaime, making her lightheaded.

  Then Iris went silent. Jaime couldn’t pick up any further connection.

  Olivia turned and said, “I felt that. Iris is upset. The emotions were confused.”

  “I heard her,” Harper said. “Please was the only communication I received, but she didn’t explain.”

  “It’s as we thought,” Jaime said. “Something is very wrong, and we have to find out what. Iris will not be at peace until we do.”

  Olivia looked at the casket, then bent down to touch the flowers covering the lid. She rubbed her fingers along the polished wood. “You can count on us. We won’t rest until we figure out what really happened.”

  Jaime waved her arm at the director, who was over by the building. He came back to the gravesite to conclude matters. After they left, the casket would be lowered.

  “We will return, Aunt Iris, as soon as we have more to tell you,” Jaime said, then left with her sisters. They had much to do. The question was where to start.

  The cemetery was dark except for lights on the building. Jaime perceived that her aunt was still present and hoped that once the psychic vibrations were smoothed out, clearer communications could be established. Jaime had talked to the dead many times before. But there could be issues if the person had died under bad circumstances. That had to be resolved before Iris could move on.

  CHAPTER 9

  Jaime was a beneficiary and the executor of the will. She’d inherited the home Iris had lived in for most of her adult life. The place had a lot of history, and Jaime would cherish it. She worked with an estate attorney to get all the paperwork in order.

  The following Sunday, Jaime took Ian with her to see the house during the daytime. She wanted to determine if it needed any repairs and to secure it against vandals. The town’s crime rate was low, so she didn’t have too much to worry about. But she was against selling it, as the house had too much sentimental value.

  In the sunlight, Jaime noticed that the siding needed new paint. The wooden steps were sturdy but could use refinishing. Iris had assured her that the house was basically in good shape and the foundation solid. The items that needed attention were cosmetic.

  Jaime waved her hand toward the front door. “Shall we?”

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing your aunt’s house,” Ian said. “I’ve heard she decorated in an authentic style.”

  “You could say that.” Jaime opened the door and went inside, with Ian right behind her.

  The house was less intimidating in the middle of the day. Jaime hadn’t shared her experience with Ian. The last time she’d been there, it had been pitch-dark—not the best time to visit abandoned homes. She had more confidence in daylight.

  The house had been built in the eighteen hundreds, but certain parts had been restored. Aunt Iris hadn’t approved of modernizing. She had stuck to traditional Victorian styling. The floors were solid wood with patterned rugs or long runners over them.

  Wainscoting had been used in most rooms. The decorative paneling ran halfway up the walls, then the rest of the walls were covered with brocade wallpaper. Chandeliers with fixtures that imitated candles used in the period hung from the ceiling.

  “The outside could use some work,” Ian said. “But your aunt kept up the inside. It’s like a showroom in here.”

  “Yes, and wait until you see the upstairs.” Jaime walked down the long hallway to the carpeted stairs. She paused to look up at the wood-grid ceiling. A pocket of cold air settled around her, making her shiver.

  “Chilly in here, isn’t it?” Ian said.

  Jaime nodded, seeing no need to share her suspicions. She showed Ian into the bedroom, and he walked around. There was an antique desk in one corner, a wood-framed bed with an eyelet quilt, plus the room had a fireplace.

  Ian faced away from her, looking at the balloon curtains over the windows. Faint whispers caught Jaime’s attention, so she listened closer, trying to decipher the message.

  Ian turned. “Did you say something?”

  Jaime shook her head. “Not me.”

  As Ian walked back toward the door, the light on the nightstand went on. He glanced at Jaime. “I didn’t touch it,” she said, raising her hands.

  “Could be some wiring that needs attention.”

  “Yeah, could be.”


  They finished looking around upstairs, then went back down. Ian headed for the kitchen. He ran his hands over the old stove. Then a noise made him look up. It sounded like a little doll running around on the upstairs floor.

  Ian frowned. “That’s odd. I hope the place doesn’t have rats.”

  “Hmm, good point,” Jaime said. “I was planning to have it inspected anyway.”

  The ghosts were being mischievous, so Jaime would need to clear the house when she had the chance. They’d seen enough for right then. She’d better get Ian out before he saw something he couldn’t explain. But she was too late.

  In the entry, a ghostly wisp of light swirled around Ian. He froze, staring at the space where it had just been. “Okay…I saw that. You did too, right?”

  “He was harmless.”

  Ian shook his head. “Time to go.”

  At least the scary ghosts hadn’t made themselves known. Whatever frightening creatures hung around at night didn’t like the brightness of day. That was good to know.

  In the car, Jaime said, “I know you don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “I’m starting to,” Ian said. “I’m a down-to-earth type of guy. I’ll look for reasonable explanations. But unless I was hallucinating, I just saw an apparition of some sort.”

  “It’s thought that ghosts are always scary, that things go bump in the night. But ghosts are entities who haven’t moved on. They can be good or evil, and everything in between—just like people.”

  “So your friendly ghost didn’t intend to hurt us?”

  “No, he was just fooling around,” Jaime said. “I’ll take care of it, but that’s not my priority right now.”

  “I can imagine. Did the restraining order come through?”

  “Yes, thank goodness,” Jaime said. “That was a good solution you came up with. I’m legally protected, so I feel better.”

  “I still don’t trust Elijah.”

  “You’re a smart man,” Jaime said. “You shouldn’t trust him. I used to, and look where that got me.”

  “You know what he’s really like now,” Ian said. “It makes me wonder what he’s capable of, but I’d prefer that we don’t find out. Any guy that would terrorize a young girl, one he thought of as his own daughter, no less—there is no word to describe him.”

  “Monster?”

  “That will do, until I think of a better one.”

  It was good to have Ian to talk to. Jaime didn’t feel so crazy, like she was imagining stuff. But how Elijah had behaved recently wasn’t her imagination. She wished that he hadn’t been a part of her life, hadn’t formed any relationship with the kids—but it was too late for that. That bridge had been crossed. Now she just had to enforce that restraining order and keep him away.

  Jaime sat at Olivia’s kitchen table. Harper was across from her. She’d told them about the visit to the house, and that she had work to do. “I have to clear the house.”

  “I guess Iris was ghost-friendly,” Olivia said. “It sounds like her. They probably kept her company when she was at home.”

  “Yeah, that’s possible,” Jaime said. “But I’m going to tell them to move on. It’s my house now, and it’s a little too busy around there for my taste.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Harper said. “It would be a good opportunity to practice my telepathy. Ghosts are good at that.”

  “I’d like the help,” Jaime said. “I’m not in a mood to go there alone, especially not at night. But I prefer to get this over with, while the kids are staying overnight with their cousins.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Olivia said. “It’s nearly dark. Maybe we can get rid of them, then come back and watch a movie.”

  “Not one of your horror stories,” Harper said.

  “I was thinking of a romantic comedy,” Olivia said. “We could stand more humor around here.”

  “And romance,” Harper said.

  It didn’t take long to get to the house. The sun had vanished. Jaime looked at the door in the pale twilight. She used her key to open it, then switched on the light. “Okay, let’s see who we have here.”

  Olivia and Harper followed her inside. They stuck together and began walking around. It seemed rather quiet. Jaime wondered if something had already scared her intruders off.

  Then the lights went out, and Harper shrieked. The image of a ragged man appeared on the stairs. Jaime stared; it was the man with the rotting body. He beamed an evil smile, showing his awful teeth. Then a voice shouted, “Dead, she’s dead!”

  It was so loud that Jaime jumped. Olivia and Harper stood close, watching the specter. Before their eyes, a scene played out. There was Aunt Iris in perfect health, only she wasn’t. Her eyes grew large and she opened her mouth to yell, only no sound came out.

  Then a man attacked her. His face was hidden, and his form was distorted. Iris wasn’t strong enough to fight him. She tried to use her witchcraft; Jaime saw the look in her eyes, her stance.

  But Iris’s power was blocked. There was no effect on the beast of a man who dragged her away. The scene shifted. Iris was near the ditch. The attacker must have dragged her there. Only the man’s back could be seen. Jaime watched in horror, mesmerized by what she saw.

  With wide eyes, Iris looked on in terror. Whatever the man did or said appeared to put her in shock. Then he reached out, and a bolt of electricity struck her chest. Iris went still, then fell to the ground. Jaime watched, waiting…but the images vanished.

  The house was deathly quiet. Jaime turned to Olivia and Harper. “Our aunt was murdered. We just saw it for ourselves.”

  The realization was a shock, even though Jaime had suspected foul play. It was one thing to wonder, and another thing entirely to witness it. “We have to find that man,” Jaime said. “He killed Iris. We can’t let him get away with it.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Jaime huddled between Olivia and Harper. The apparition had vanished and the images along with it. The light flicked back on, and the house looked unthreatening.

  “We need to talk.” Jaime headed for the living room, and her sisters followed.

  Harper turned on the overhead light, plus every available lamp. “I’ve had enough of the dark for tonight.”

  “Murder…” Olivia said, then slumped into a chair.

  Jaime felt the same; she needed a chance to regroup. She had to accept that Iris had been murdered, and it was a lot to take in. “Who is behind all of this? That’s my biggest question.”

  Olivia shivered. The row of bracelets on her arm jingled as she went to turn up the thermostat. “It’s freezing in here.”

  Harper grabbed a shawl from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I don’t feel so well. Getting such dark communications makes my head hurt.”

  “We have to keep it together here,” Jaime said. “So far, we are the only ones who have discovered that our aunt’s death was murder.”

  “We need to find out what we’re up against,” Olivia said. “Murder is a crime, but killing a coven leader… Well, that reveals an intent that I find terrifying.”

  “You’re thinking what I am,” Jaime said. “In the images, it was obvious that when Iris tried to use her power, she was blocked from doing so. Not just anyone is capable of that. It points to the fact that whoever is behind this has ability, too—maybe stronger than any witchcraft Iris could employ.”

  Harper fingered an amulet that hung on a gold chain around her neck. “I sense that we all need protection, that we need to be a lot more cautious. I don’t like the sound of all this.”

  “We have to be careful,” Jaime said. “But we must track down the murderer.”

  “You realize there is a connection, don’t you?” Olivia said.

  “The ghost revealed to us that a powerful force blocked Iris’s power,” Jaime said. “And when I last attempted psychic meditation, the same thing happened to me. I should have been able to tap into the psychic wavelength—yet I was actively blocked.”

  “That really s
cares me,” Harper said. “A force that is capable of preventing you and Iris from using witchcraft is one we must heed. That eliminates many possibilities, as few would be capable of such a feat.”

  “It is a big clue,” Jaime said. “Only it’s not enough. There are powers in the world equal to ours, but narrowing it to who is involved in murder may be tricky.”

  “We know one thing for sure,” Olivia said. “The supernatural is at the core of it. A killer who was merely human with no extraordinary ability might have dragged Iris off, but she would have overwhelmed him. She was a witch; we shouldn’t forget that.”

  “We can rule out a human acting alone,” Jaime said. “But a man with a killer instinct, a purely human man, could be used as a tool for evil deeds.”

  “Great, that doesn’t help,” Harper said. “If that’s the case, we aren’t any closer to determining who is involved. The killer could be human, ghost, or…”

  “That’s right,” Olivia said. “The possibilities are endless.”

  “I think we can agree that the killer was male,” Jaime said. “Even with the cloak, his size and build seemed to indicate that. Plus, when Iris went missing and we asked around, the cousins mentioned that she might have gone off with a male friend—like they had picked up on the truth without realizing it.”

  “Male friend…more like male predator,” Harper said.

  “The other thing I noticed was the look of shock on Iris’s face when she looked at her killer,” Jaime said. “It makes me think that she recognized him, even knew him.”

  “I agree,” Olivia said.

  Jaime’s blood ran cold. “There’s more…the murderer will kill again. He must; he will assume that we will track him down—since we are witches. He will have to make sure we don’t succeed.”

  “And that’s what all of this is about, isn’t it?” Oliva said, looking at Jaime. “The killer murdered Iris, our coven leader. And he will come after you next.”

  Jaime needed to track down the murderer before there was another attack. And she’d be the next victim, if Olivia was right. Finding a killer fell under the sheriff’s jurisdiction, but he wasn’t likely to reopen the case.