Forbidden Highway (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 5)

by Catie Rhodes

  “Don’t contact her, Peri Jean.” Mysti spoke in a low voice, very nearly a whisper. “Part of her is already inside you with the mantle. If you call her, you better really want her. At least until we see how this is going to work for you.”

  “She’s right.” Wade came across the room and plopped down on the floor next to me. “Let’s just figure this out ourselves. I don’t want any more of her today.” He held up his arm to show me his new scars.

  “Okay. Let’s try to do this the way William would have had to do it.” I glanced around the room. Everybody nodded. “The clue said ‘My good friend Luther Palmore is a lover of literature. Treasure Island captures his fancy, but his whole library is grand.’” I recited the words from memory. They still gave me no hint how to look for the clue in the books.

  Tubby took the books out of the chest one at a time, flipping through each and stacking them in alphabetical piles. Finished, Tubby stood the books on end so their spines faced out and drew his skinny legs up to his chest. He squinted at the books and rocked back and forth.

  Someone banged on the door, rattling it in its frame. We all jerked to attention. Tubby and Wade exchanged a stare. They both crept to the door. Wade withdrew his pistol and stood behind the door. Tubby answered it. Rainey Bruce shoved past him and strode across the living room to me.

  “Do you never answer your phone? Hannah’s almost out of time.” She narrowed her eyes and made a face. “And what the hell happened to you? You look weird. Your eyes…” She took her gaze off me, maybe searching for the right insult, and saw the books on the floor. She forgot about me. “Are those Luther Palmore’s books. Please don’t tell me one of you people stole them.”

  “Wanna help us figure out the clue?” Mysti came to stand next to me.

  “You must be the famous Mysti Whitebyrd.” Rainey held out her hand for shaking. She and Mysti went through the formalities. A few minutes later, the five of us sat on the floor, staring at the books as though we expected them to sprout heads. That didn’t happen. Neither did much else.

  The books were all the same height and width with matching covers, obviously manufactured as a set.

  “What are we doing?” Wade took out his cigarettes and lit one.

  “The clue mentions the library as a whole.” Tubby never stopped rocking but held out his hand for a cigarette. Wade slapped it away. “I thought maybe all the titles together or the names of the authors together would mean something.”

  I went back to the chest and ran my hands over both the outside and the inside looking for a secret hiding spot. Reginald Mace loved those things. The chest’s wood lining seemed tight all the way around. I lightly knocked on the bottom of the chest, but it didn’t sound hollow. I got to my feet, planning to go start some coffee, and saw something weird. I stepped around Tubby and reached for a huge dictionary Tubby had placed on the end of his lineup.

  “Hey.” He kicked at me. “I’m thinking, and I need all the books in place so I can think.”

  “I know you’re thinking. I smell it.”

  His eyes widened then narrowed. “You and your last words. Remember who’s the man here.” He patted his chest.

  Mysti shook her head. “Unreal. I can’t believe you’re who you are.”

  I took the dictionary to the couch and opened it to the middle where I’d seen a metallic glint between the pages. I drew out a thin sheet of metal, something light and flexible. There were three rectangular holes at irregular intervals over the sheet.

  “I know what that thing is.” Tubby pushed himself to his feet and stood next to me. “It’s a Cardan Grille. Spies used ‘em in the Revolutionary War. TV show I seen had ‘em on it.”

  “They’re much older than that. They date back to the fifteen hundreds.” Rainey rose, craning her long neck for a look at it. Tubby took the Cardan Grille from me and sat back down on the floor. Rainey sat next to him and tried to take the Cardan Grille. He snarled at her and continued holding it with both hands and staring at the books. He began talking in a low voice, almost to himself. “The clue said the whole library, so there must be a certain page in each book. Did you see anything else unusual in the crypt?”

  I shook my head.

  Tubby went back to staring at the row of books, stopping only to pull off his cowboy boots and socks, revealing his tattooed feet. He offered me one of his unfiltered cigarettes, and I took it. We smoked in silence. He kept his eyes on the books as though in a trance. “There had to be something.”

  I snapped my fingers. “The inscription on the spot for William Mace’s coffin was wrong.”

  “How?” Rainey frowned at me.

  “It had a date of death. William never returned from Alaska, remember? That’s why the treasure never got found.”

  “Maybe Reginald Mace got a letter saying when William died, had the inscription made then.” Rainey shrugged.

  “Can’t be.” I realized something I hadn’t before. “The date of death was 1973. Reginald Mace died in 1906.”

  Tubby whipped out his cellphone. “Tell me the dates they had for William Mace’s birth and death.”

  “1868-1973,” I said.

  Tubby tapped the numbers into his phone. “One hundred and five.” He grabbed the first book in alphabetical order and set the Cardan Grille over page one hundred five and read aloud. “This is the.”

  He frowned and glanced at the spine of the book, opening it again and flipping through the pages. He started laughing. “I can’t believe Joey Holze didn’t figure this out. But then he is kinda dumb.”

  “Figure what out?”

  “Okay, this is a book of poetry by George Gordon, Lord Byron.” He held the book open, showing me page one hundred five. “But you’ll notice this ain’t poetry. It’s just a random page bound in the book. Reginald Mace had these books made just for this purpose.” He shook his head, chuckling.

  Rainey grabbed the next book and opened it. She held out her hand for the Cardan Grille, her eyes cold and demanding. She’d figured out a way to get her hands on it, and she wasn’t giving up. Tubby handed her the sheet of metal. She laid it over page one hundred five and read aloud. “‘Last clue on.’”

  We went through the rest of the books. On the ones I’d read and knew, I saw Tubby’s theory was correct. Page one hundred five in the book didn’t belong there. The final message read like this.

  This is the last clue on your very long journey. I praise your perseverance and am proud to call you my son, sweet William. You have found each stained glass panel. You know where the treasure is but not how to get there. The holy place you seek is on the other side. My friend, the witch Priscilla, knows the way. She will escort you from the place you used to play soldiers as a young boy. There you will have one challenge more, requiring both bravery and intellect. There are many ways back home. The bell must ring thrice. Love from your father.

  “Any of it make sense?” Tubby packed up the books and stacked them neatly in the trunk.

  “More than I care to say.” I sat down in Memaw’s recliner and rubbed my face.

  “Who’s the witch?” Tubby sat on the couch and held out his pack of cigarettes to me. We both lit up.

  “In this case, me. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

  “You’ll need a thin place,” Mysti said. “A place where you might be able to cross into another dimension. There’s more of them than you think.” She glanced at Wade. “Have you ever seen or felt one?”

  “I know about one.” Tubby pulled on his cigarette and settled his gaze on me. This time there was no laughter in it. “You do too.”

  “No, I don’t.” I wanted to scoot over near Wade and lean against his strength. Fatigue ached all the way to the center of me. The comfort of another human sounded like just what I needed. I didn’t dare. He might not push me away, but it would make both of us uncomfortable. And Tubby might make fun of me.

  “Use that head for something other than fantasizing about him.” Rainey pointed at Wade. “Rem
ember that awful school project we did?”

  “Around the time I got expelled from school and had to take my GED?” I turned to Rainey. She nodded. “I’ve blocked it out.” It was one of the unhappiest times of my life. I didn’t want to remember any of that crud.

  “Unblock it.” She vaulted out of her chair and dropped onto the floor next to me. “Remember that guy Chris Leeland disappeared there. Nobody ever found him, and they couldn’t figure out how he got out.”

  It started to come back. “And that guy’s wallet. He disappeared in the woods, but his wallet was found there at the carriage house.”

  “And remember when we locked Felicia in there?” Tubby smiled with true pleasure. “Toward the end, it really did sound like somebody—or something—might have been in there with her.”

  I thought back to those interviews, remembering all I could about the place. “It does make sense. The message said William played there. He might have played in the carriage house.”

  “If that’s our thin place, all we need to do is prep you on the spell to take off the curse.” Mysti stood and went into my bedroom. She came back carrying Priscilla Herrera’s spell book, her face pale and sickly. She dropped it on my lap and wiped her hand on her jeans.

  The spell book’s cover was new leather, its pages gone from yellow and brittle to white and healthy. Every page had been full before we left, but now a sheaf of blank pages waited at the back for me to fill them. I touched the cover to open it, and the magic flowed into me, welcoming and frightening all at the same time. I glanced at Mysti. She still rubbed her hand on her jeans.

  “Did it hurt you?” I kept my hand on the book until my fingertips prickled with energy.

  “No, it just let me know it didn’t belong to me.” Mysti gave me a weak smile, a shadow of her normal one. “I’ll know better next time. Go on and open it.”

  I did and gasped.

  16

  The first time I looked at Priscilla Herrera’s spell book after getting it back from a pair of half-assed thieves, I found much of it unreadable, written in a language I couldn’t identify. I got frustrated and put it aside. The day I took on Priscilla’s mantle, things changed.

  All the foreign words and symbols in the book had transformed into words I could read. Could others read them? One glance at Mysti still rubbing her hand dissuaded me from asking. There were still many ingredients I didn’t know, but I bet between Mysti and Wade, I could find out.

  Mysti’s cellphone rang, and she excused herself and went outside. Tubby and Wade argued about who would get the stolen trunk out of the house. Wade offered to break Tubby’s arm. Rainey told them to shut up. I heard them and didn’t at the same time. I was lost in the spell book.

  One spell reminded me of the way Priscilla Herrera cursed the treasure. I marked it with an old envelope and kept searching for any mention of thin places or how to get into other dimensions. Mysti came back inside before I got very far, still holding her cellphone in one hand. In the other hand she held a large plastic sack.

  “I’m going to have to leave soon. Griff’s parents have an emergency and want him at their side immediately.” She gripped her cellphone until her knuckles turned white. “He’s just locking the office and going, but I need to go home. Be there in case he needs help.” Her eyelid twitched on the last word.

  “Is everything—” I began.

  “Nothing that won’t work itself out.” Mysti’s tone forbade me asking more. Ever since her move to the Houston area to live with her longtime boyfriend, Griffin Reed, I’d gotten the sense of an ongoing conflict between them. Mysti shut down every question I asked. I learned to leave it alone out of respect for her privacy. She turned her attention to the spell book I held. “Anything interesting in there?”

  “This is real damn close to the spell I saw Priscilla use in my vision of her last hours.” I held open the book to Mysti. She sat next to me, carefully not touching the book, and leaned over to read it. I pointed to one instruction. “She didn’t do this.”

  “Don’t worry about the discrepancies,” Mysti said. “A lot of witches personalize spells after using them a few times. As I’ve told you, it’s more about intent than anything else.”

  Rainey watched the proceedings, wide-eyed and unusually quiet. I caught her staring at me more than once. Each time, she redirected her gaze.

  “If this is our spell, what’s the next step?” Mysti went into teaching mode.

  “Pack a bag with my supplies.” I stood to get the ratty bag I used for this part of spell work.

  Mysti shoved the sack at me. “This is from Griff and me. A little present to celebrate you coming up in the world.”

  The plastic sack rustled in my fist. “You guys didn’t have to.”

  “Enough. Just open it.” Mysti hovered, eager and excited.

  I pulled a plain black nylon backpack out of the bag. The brand alone made me sit up straight. This thing hadn’t come cheap.

  “I wanted to buy you something more feminine.” Mysti grabbed the backpack from me and unzipped it. “But Griff insisted all these little compartments would be perfect for you. Your athame can go there.” Mysti pointed at an elastic strap.

  I gave her an impulsive hug, which she returned fiercely. Then I set about transferring the spelling stones, the mini treasure chest, matches, and my athame to my fancy new carryall. Something was missing. I ran into my bedroom and got the silver rose Nash Redmond had given me and pinned it on the inside of the new backpack. It lent the feminine air the thing needed. I opened the spell book to see if there was anything else I needed. “What is Good Fortune Oil?”

  “Is that what that says? I can barely make out the letters.” Mysti squinted at the page. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got something we can substitute. When you’re ready, I’ll show you how to make your own.”

  “My last problem is Priscilla mentioned the dark outposts in my vision. I don’t see anything like that in this spell.” I gestured over the page.

  “I’m guessing ‘dark outposts’ was Priscilla’s name for the dimension running alongside this world.” She shrugged her shoulders as though everybody knew about this dimension and what was in it.

  I’d never heard anything like this. “Other dimension? Running alongside this world?”

  “It’s where your ghostly visitors live. What you see, and the little you’re able to hear from them, is them breaking through the veil between worlds. You have a natural ability to sort of tread between the worlds.” She licked her lips and glanced around the room, as though she feared someone or something else hearing what we said. “You have to be careful talking about it. Other things live in the dimension where ghosts come from. Some of them can hear our world just fine.”

  “Demons?”

  “Some religions call them demons, yes. Other things too. Sometimes you’ll catch one who managed to cross over.” She gripped her phone a little tighter.

  “Like what?” I caught Rainey staring at me again. She shifted and turned away.

  “Like stuff you’ll have nightmares about.” Mysti tried to laugh. It sounded like one of those cow sound toys you flip upside down to make it holler.

  “Can’t wait to visit. How do I get in?” I felt cold at the idea of going to this place. It sounded like the kind of place I might not come back from.

  “There’s a portal in your thin place at the Mace Carriage House. Usually our kind can open portals pretty easily.” Mysti gestured at the spell book. “Did you see anything about doors or opening doors?”

  I leafed through the book again, reading while Mysti read over my shoulder. Tucked away at the bottom of a spell for dream walking was a short spell called “Open a Door.”

  My skin tingled as I read through the spell. “Is this it?”

  “Could be.” Mysti checked the time on her cellphone. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she left for home. “Use the spell to leave this dimension and to get where you want to go once you’re inside the dark outposts.” Myst
i leaned over the spell book. After a second, she shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Read the ingredients to me. The ownership spell on this book is just too strong to let me use it.”

  “Holy water, grave dust, and nettle sap.” I slumped. “I don’t have any of these, and I don’t know if I have time to find them.”

  “I’ve got everything except the nettle sap. You’ll have to gather that fresh or it won’t work.” Mysti stood and gathered her things. She was too sweet to come out and say she had to leave, but I knew she did. “You’ll need gardening supplies to gather the nettle sap. Gloves especially. If the leaf touches your hands—”

  “You’ll have to pee on it to make it stop stinging.” Tubby glanced up from putting his cowboy boots back on.

  “You’re so classy.” Mysti gestured at the spell book, silently reminding me to put it in my supply pack. I shoved it into my backpack.

  Wade stood next to the trunk and motioned to Tubby to help him pick it up. The two men carried the trunk toward the door.

  I trailed after them, backpack slung over my shoulder. “Where are y’all taking it?”

  “Out of here.” Tubby’s mouth stretched in a grin that didn’t touch his eyes. “You don’t want to get caught with stolen property, now do you?” They carried the trunk outside. Mysti and I followed behind them. Tubby kept yapping at me. “Peri Jean, I almost forgot to tell you. I remembered where I know Jay Harris from. I told you I never forget a face.”

  I said nothing. Tubby would tell me one way or the other.

  “Me and Jay were in juvie together. Scary, mean kid.” He and Wade deposited the trunk in the back of the hearse. “I put in an anonymous call to the crime stopper’s tip line. Said he was dealing drugs.”

  “Is he?” I didn’t have any trouble believing it. Jay acted awfully shifty when Dean introduced himself.

  “I don’t think so. But Michael Gage has an accomplice. Maybe it’s Jay.” Tubby tipped me a wink and got into the hearse. He started the hearse and drove away.