Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2)
Page 7
Rebecca grins. “No, it just adds a mystery element which I think I may have solved.”
“Are you going to share or just sit there with that stupid smirk on your face?” Daniel asks, pausing in his pacing circuit to stare at Rebecca.
“Geez, no patience. Okay, sometimes when we bless or smudge a house to rid it of hostile entities, they return… with a vengeance.” Rebecca pauses again, glancing around the room. “Where do the hostile spirits go when we force them out?”
“The same place they all go,” Daniel says, his voice tinged with irritation.
“Really?” Rebecca turns her gaze to me. “What do you think, Kacie?”
My fingers drum against my leg as I consider the possibilities. “Well, we send the willing spirits into the light, and from there they go… wherever they’re supposed to, I guess.”
“The light appears when a spirit is ready to move on,” Logan adds, nodding.
“So if we banish an unwilling spirit, the light wouldn’t appear.” Rebecca’s voice is triumphant. “So where does the spirit go?”
Daniel stops pacing and stares at Rebecca. “Purgatory?”
“Or something like that,” Rebecca agrees. “So what if the spirits are trapped in limbo with nothing to do but practice and prepare for their revenge when released?”
“That’s an awful thought,” Raven says with a shudder.
“One ill-thought spirit board game or séance and wham—the return of a powerful, hostile ghost.” Rebecca slams her laptop closed.
“Well, then we’re kinda screwed,” Logan says with a groan. “If we send those three back to… wherever… then the next time they come back who knows how strong they’ll be.”
“We have to convince them to let go of their anger and move on.” The words sound even more ridiculous aloud than they did in my head before I spoke. “How?”
Rebecca rises from her seat on the floor. “I need to share their story, then we can figure out a way.” She glances at the front door. “But first we need to do something about that spirit board. I don’t want the hostiles listening to our plans.”
Chapter Twelve
Plans
LOGAN
After three long phone calls and a whole lot of arguing, we finally come to an agreement. The spirit board will be locked into a safe and lowered into Mr. Kincaid’s pool. Our poor leader isn’t overly happy with this solution, but our haunted relic expert said the metal combined with the deep water is the best way to keep the ghosts from using the board as another portal. Once the spirits are banished, then we can destroy the board. I watch from the patio as the others argue about how to lower the safe into the water with ropes. The thing must weigh a ton. Good thing we have a werewolf helping.
Blake releases a low growl, and the others scramble out of his way. Without pausing, he hefts the heavy safe in his arms and drops it into the pool. It floats on the surface for a few moments before sinking to the bottom.
The minute it sinks below the surface the air feels lighter. I breathe in a deep, cleansing breath, wincing from the pull on my ribs. The negative energy lifts, and the incessant buzzing in my ears ceases.
“Is it just me, or is it a lot easier to breathe now?” Raven asks, taking a loud breath through her mouth.
“Definitely a sensitive,” Kacie says, nodding in agreement. “You may not see or hear spirits, but you can feel their energy.”
“I don’t know if that’s good or bad.” Raven tips her head, deep in thought. “I feel the energy of monsters too. I guess that’s just my superpower.”
“So, is it safe to talk about the ghosts now?” Rebecca asks, glancing between Kacie and me.
“You really don’t feel any change in the air, do you?” I ask, wondering how she can be oblivious to such an obvious change in pressure.
“Nope, not a thing,” Rebecca replies with a frown. “I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing.”
“Our ghost friends are gone.” I stare at the safe sitting at the bottom of the pool. “I suppose they’ve returned to the sorority house.”
“Great, then I can tell you all about my research.” Rebecca rubs her hands together, not in a nervous gesture but rather eager. Her excitement is a tad creepy. She disappears through the sliding glass door into the house. Before I can take a step, she pokes her head back out. “Are you coming or not?”
Kacie puts her arm around my waist and grins at me. Without a word, I allow her to assist me on the walk back to the family room. Though, truth be told, I don’t need it. For some reason her actions fill me with warmth, and after the crap I’ve been through, I’m not ready to let go of that. After I’m seated at the sofa with my leg propped up, she leans down and kisses my forehead.
“Need any ice for your knee?” Kacie asks, brushing her fingers through the hair hanging over my left eye. “Maybe a haircut?”
“Ha, funny,” I reply, shaking my head to move the hair back. “You love my hair like this.”
“True. Ice?”
“No, I’m fine.” I pat the sofa and she curls up against my side.
“Is everyone settled yet?” Rebecca asks in an exasperated tone. “Can I get y’all anything? Coffee, doughnuts, a paper?”
Carl lifts his hand in the air like a kid in class. “Actually, I’d like a Coke.”
“Sarcasm, Carl. Learn it,” Rebecca snaps at him. Then she stalks into the kitchen and returns with a can of Coke.
From the shocked expressions of my friends, I guess I’m not the only one thrown by her sudden kindness toward Carl.
“Logan, why don’t you start,” Rebecca orders, back to her commanding self. “You got the ball rolling.”
“Yeah, sure.” I sit up a bit straighter while organizing my thoughts. “I was in bed last night in pain, unable to sleep ‘cause I didn’t want the meds Dr. Hayes prescribed and something occurred to me. The ghosts all sounded like they were from an old episode of Scooby Doo. You know, like from the seventies. So I did some digging online and hit the jackpot.”
The dull ache in my side turns into an annoying throb. When I squirm a bit, Kacie leans away looking sheepish.
“Sorry, forgot about your ribs,” she whispers, scooting away.
“No, it’s fine, really.” I don’t want to tell the whole Circle that I need the comfort but… “Can you switch to my other side?”
She switches places with Blake and leans gently against my side. Careful not to move too fast, I place my arm around her, resting it on her shoulders.
“Better?” she asks.
“Better. So, long story short, three girls were killed in and around that sorority house in 1972. The killer was an assistant psych professor who claimed he was conducting research. Our spirits names are Amy, Renee, and Tracy. The professor was either trying to replicate the CIA’s MKUltra experiment or working for them—not sure. He dosed the three women with dangerous levels of LSD then played horror movie with them. Amy fell down the stairs and broke her neck while running away in terror. Renee ran out into traffic in front of the house in a panic-fueled fugue and was hit by two cars. Tracy… well she was hacked to bits by a meat cleaver or something.”
“No wonder those spirits are so angry,” Raven says, wrapping her arms around her chest. “What an awful way to die.”
“It gets worse.” I lace my fingers with Kacie’s when she reaches for my hand. “The professor first seduced another woman from the sorority and used her as an accomplice. That’s how he was able to orchestrate the whole sordid thing. He used mind control techniques you only hear about in conspiracy theories and horror movies. The poor woman was warped completely to his will.”
Blake leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “He didn’t kill her too?”
“No. And I couldn’t find anything about her identity either. I called Rebecca and passed everything on, then gave in and took a pain pill. Slept like the dead.”
“Am I the only one who’s never heard of MKUltra?” Kacie asks.
Raven shakes her h
ead. “Nope. No idea what he’s talking about.”
“MKUltra was a conspiracy theory until documents were released in the eighties,” Carl says, practically bouncing in his excitement. “The CIA, DOD, and other government agencies subjected unsuspecting US citizens to mind control experiments starting sometime in the 1950s. One of the favored methods was dosing a person with LSD and studying their reactions to it. They also used sensory deprivation, hypnosis, mental torture, all sorts of ugly things in an attempt to gain control of another human being. They believed that by dosing someone with LSD and altering their reality, they could alter their entire perception. Weird shit, if you ask me. These tests went on up until the early seventies. It’s possible the professor was involved in some way. The government routinely employed psychiatrists for the project.”
“Wow, just wow,” Raven says, her eyes wide. “Are you sure this isn’t just a conspiracy theory? It seems absurd that the government could use us as test subjects without our consent.”
“The fifties were a different time,” Mr. Kincaid adds. “The cold war, the threat of nuclear annihilation, and the red scare created an air of desperation. The US was anxious to stay one step ahead of the Soviets any way possible. Things were sanctioned that should never have been considered in the first place.”
“Okay, so this professor used a combination of the MKUltra techniques to seduce the girl, then decided to use her to help him run some sick experiment at the sorority house?” Kacie’s body stiffens beside me as she speaks. Her hand clutches my arm. “How could someone be so… so…” Her voice trembles, and I pull her tight enough to send a sharp pain shooting through my side.
Raven finishes Kacie’s sentence. “Despicable? Contemptible?”
“You know, I originally managed to get by on the assumption that the girl he seduced was weak.” Rebecca’s voice is soft, forlorn. “But she was just like me. I-I figured out who she was based on sorority photos, school records, and court records—illegally obtained.” She glances at Mr. Kincaid. “Sorry.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it,” he replies, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Anyway, her name was, or rather is, Angela Baxter. She was an honor student, top in her class, pre-med, active in both high school and college. When she met Professor Rosenthal, she was a sophomore…” Rebecca trails off, staring at her laptop like it might hold the answer she seeks. “It makes no sense. Why would a smart girl like that fall for tricks and seduction? We—I mean she—should have known better.”
“Wait a minute,” Raven says, a look of shock on her face. “This woman is still alive?”
“Yeah, she was placed in a psych ward for ten years after she testified at the trial,” Rebecca says, twirling a strand of brown hair around her finger. “When she was released, she never married, had kids or a career. Just a string of odd jobs. Her life was ruined… she was destroyed.”
“What happened to the loony professor?” Blake asks, poking at Rebecca with his foot.
Her head snaps up, and she glares at him. At least that’s better than her earlier despair. “He was found guilty on three counts of murder one, along with drug charges and kidnapping. He was executed by lethal injection in 1983.”
“That answers one question,” I say, breaking a long silence. “We know why the spirits are so angry. But why are they so powerful?”
“I have a theory on that as well,” Rebecca replies, snapping her laptop closed. “In 1998 the Orion Circle did a cleansing of the place. According to the file, they were unable to convince the spirits to move on and had to force them out. After three blessings and several smudgings, the activity ceased. But that was just your ordinary sentient haunting: footsteps, voices, things moving around. They did manifest at times and scare the crap out of the residents, but nothing like what they’re doing now.”
Kacie clears her throat. “The spirit board brought them back. But from where?”
“Purgatory? Limbo?” Rebecca pauses, her forehead furrowed in thought. “Like I said before, I think they go somewhere in between. Someplace where they have nothing to do but plot their return.”
“So, Logan was right. We can’t force them out or they could return again even stronger,” Raven says with a visible shiver.
“We need to cross them somehow,” Kacie says in a small voice. “Cross three nasty, powerful spirits.”
“That’s your specialty, Cici.” Daniel glances at her with a sympathetic look. “Any ideas?”
“Actually, yes, I have a good one.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lesser of Evils
KACIE
Snaking my hand across the backseat, I grab Logan’s hand, lacing our fingers together. He squeezes my hand, and I glance up at him, losing myself in his eyes. But the moment passes quickly. His grin fades at my grim expression. When he opens his mouth to speak, I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about this madness now. After all, this field trip was my idea. How can I possibly walk up to a sixty-year-old woman and ask her to relive the event that ruined her life.
It’s not fair.
Life isn’t fair. I can hear Dad’s words in my mind clear as day. It was his answer to my preteen-angst tantrums. It didn’t take long for me to stop saying those words. As if sensing my thoughts, my phone vibrates. A text from Dad.
Have you decided?
I pull my hand from Logan’s with a pang of regret. No. I text back, hoping he’ll let it go. No such luck.
It’s only a few days. Try.
Damn. I can’t deal with this right now… not with three angry ghosts who relish using our inner turmoil against us.
“What is it?” Logan asks, resting his hand on my thigh. His fingers play with the new hole formed from my skid across the pavement this morning.
“He wants me to make a decision about her.”
I don’t elaborate. Logan knows my estranged mother wants to come visit for a weekend. She bolted, left me behind without a word or a glance, unable to deal with my abilities. It’s only been two months since I discovered she had powers of her own. Sure her vision gave Logan the info he needed to save us from the Foxblood Demon. And, yeah, she apologized for leaving. But still…
“I don’t know if I want to see her… you know, let her in again.” My tone is soft, timid, the hurt plain in each syllable.
My phone vibrates again, this time a call. Logan gently takes the phone from my tight grasp.
“Hi, Mr. Ramsey,” he says. It’s so quiet in the car, I can hear my dad’s voice but can’t make out the words. “We’re on our way to interview a client in a rather emotionally-charged case. Would it be okay to discuss this issue with Kacie tonight?”
I glance over at Logan, a smile tugging at my lips despite my foul mood. He always sounds so formal when dealing with my father. It’s rather amusing. Dad talks for a minute or two—a long time for a yes.
“I’ll talk to her, sir,” Logan says, nodding his head. “Thanks.” He hands the phone back, and I lay it down on the seat between us.
“Talk to me about what?” I ask, already aware of the answer.
“What else? Your mother of course.” He takes my hand, squeezing it tight. “I’ll be there with you, so will my mom. I think you might regret it if you don’t at least try.”
“Maybe,” I reply, cringing at my lost, pathetic tone. The fact that my mother makes me feel like this is reason enough to avoid her. And yet… “Maybe you’re right. I’ll talk to Dad tonight. But, I need to put my problems aside right now and focus on the case.”
“Good idea,” Rebecca says from the front seat. So that’s why she and Daniel were so quiet. They were listening to every word. “The whole Circle will be there for you, Kacie. We’ll be your support when you deal with your deadbeat mom. Ms. Baxter will have no one but us… at least according to my research. Her parents are dead, she was an only child… she never married or had any kids of her own. How lonely…”
“Do you have a plan, Cici?” Daniel asks
. Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror.
I shake my head. “Time is short. I’m going all in with the truth.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rebecca asks, glancing over her shoulder. She and Logan exchange a look I can’t decipher. “She might not believe in ghosts. And even if she does, this story is… well… rather fantastic.”
“We’ll have to make her believe,” I say, refusing to back down. “Logan has a way of convincing people. We’ll let him take the lead. After all, he did convince my dad to open his mind.”
“I don’t know whether to thank you or not.” Logan caresses the back of my hand with his thumb. “This isn’t something I’m looking forward to.”
“All we can do is try.” Raising our joined hands, I place a tender kiss on his fingers.
“Yeah, let’s hope for the best,” Rebecca agrees. Her head flops against the headrest. “Okay, quick brief before we arrive. Ms. Baxter is sixty-three. She’s been in and out of psych hospitals since the event. When her parents died, she came into a ton of money and moved into a retirement community. It’s been over ten years since her last hospitalization. I’m afraid we’re going to send her right back to the loony bin.”
“Or we could provide the closure she needs to move on with life,” Logan says. “I think she’s been lonely and confused… not to mention scared her entire life. Maybe confronting these spirits will help her find peace.”
“See, I told you he’s good,” I say, unable to contain my grin.
Rebecca laughs. “Yeah, yeah, he could sell brimstone to a demon.”
“I’m fuzzy on the details,” Daniel says over Rebecca’s laughter. “I don’t want foot in mouth disease, so give me the quick version of events.”
“Foot in mouth disease?” Rebecca asks, biting her lip. “Where did you pick that up?”
“From Mr. Kincaid.” Daniel glares at Rebecca. “He says I have a tendency to suffer from it.”
“True.” I pat Daniel’s shoulder. “But we love you anyway.”
“I don’t know how much Ms. Baxter actually remembers from that night. Hopefully not much…” Rebecca trails off and stares out the passenger window. “It must have been awful, terrifying, surreal.” She leans her forehead against the glass. “Ever since Logan called me, and I started researching this… this… hell, I don’t even know what to call it.”