A Ghost of a Clue

by Debra Doggett

  “This should be it.”

  Rory held her breath as she and Travis leaned over the man’s shoulder while he turned the fragile newspaper clippings in the folder. The last article in the pile had them both gasping.

  It was definitely their ghost girl in the grainy photo. She was wearing the same clothes they’d seen her in last night, but she looked younger, happier than the face she’d shown them at the Dumb Supper.

  “Laurel Gardner.” Travis read the name off the article. “She was fifteen.”

  “I remember this one,” Chief Johnson added. “She was a runaway, came down from Augusta.”

  Rory turned the page over to check the date. “August 10th, 1971. That explains the clothes.”

  “Original, not retro,” Travis added. “Did they find her? Or her body?”

  Chief Johnson shook his head. “No, that was what made it stick in my head. A couple of people saw her in town, but when the bulletin came through, she had either moved on or…”

  “Or passed on.” Rory felt her throat tighten at the words. Had Laurel Gardner died right here in Lobster Cove? The year wasn’t long ago enough that the thought of a murderer in the little town didn’t give her the shivers. What if someone had killed her and never been caught?

  He nodded. “We searched the coastline, even dragged Grant’s Lake but never found any sign of her. I felt sorry for her poor family.

  “You met them?” Rory asked.

  “They came here when the bulletin came out saying she’d been sighted in Lobster Cove. Father, mother and an older sibling—a sister, if I remember right. Stayed for nearly two weeks, walking all over the town. Young kid like that, you just knew they thought she was dead. The bulletin gave them hope, but…nothing came of it.”

  He made them a copy of the article on his little printer. Rory and Travis thanked him for the help and Rory promised to let him have a copy of the book when she got it written. She felt a bit guilty lying to the man but didn’t know what else to say when he asked.

  “Well, what now?” Travis asked her, as they got back into his car.

  “We know who she was, and we know how she got to Lobster Cove.”

  “Is that enough to put her to rest?”

  Rory bit her lip as she thought about a ritual that might soothe their ghost girl. Something still nagged at her though. Finally she shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. We don’t know what happened to Laurel. If she was in as much pain as it looked like last night, just wishing her well isn’t going to change that.”

  “So she’ll stick around…because of the trauma, like you said.” Travis stared down at the picture in her hand. “Doesn’t seem like we’ve found out what we need to know yet.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Rory sighed.

  “Then what’s the next step, Ms. Ghost Hunter?”

  “We find out what happened to Laurel Gardner.”

  He raised a brow. “You do understand that was a lot of years ago. You did hear the part about how they looked all over town back then and didn’t find a trace of her, right?”

  “Uh-huh, I heard that. I guess it’s possible that she moved on after being spotted in Lobster Cove. It’s also possible that they missed her.”

  “And if she didn’t stay in Lobster Cove? Or died here? How do we go about finding her all these years later when we don’t even know the answer to those questions?”

  “It’s not going to be easy.”

  “That’s a bit of an understatement.”

  “I do have an idea that might help us get that answer.” She glanced over at him. “It would mean doing something that might make you uncomfortable again.”

  “I’m getting used to that. Guessing it sort of comes with the territory. Historically, witches didn’t tend to make people comfortable.”

  “This is going to stretch the territory a bit. And your comfort level.”

  “More than you’ve already stretched it?”

  “Uh-huh. I think we need some help.”

  “That’s your idea? That doesn’t take me out of my comfort zone so much as out of my how-do-I-be-polite-when-I answer zone.”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass. What I’m talking about is help from someone who has a better chance of getting the information from a very reliable source.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Laurel herself.”

  Travis pulled into her driveway and shut off the car before turning to stare at her. “You’re not talking about contacting a medium are you?”

  Rory wanted to giggle at the horrified look on his face. Part of her thought she should tell him yes just to enjoy his reaction. But the kinder part of her won out. She shook her head.

  “No, no medium. I’m not talking about holding a séance, just a ritual.”

  “A ritual? Do we get to dance naked by the ocean?”

  “We can save that for later. That’s more of a Beltane thing. Besides, it’s a bit cold outside at night for the naked part.”

  “I can show you a way to warm up. Remember I said dance?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  She snorted. “You are far too into that concept. You’ve clearly never done the actual deed, especially not in winter. Believe me, there are drawbacks to being completely naked out in nature. Things like bugs, sand, cold, too much sun, too little sun.”

  “You don’t sound like a very good witch to me.”

  “I didn’t say there weren’t benefits to it. I’m just recommending careful selection of the location. Besides, there is enough talk about me as it is. I’m not adding skyclad rituals by the ocean to that gossip.”

  “You really don’t know how to live dangerously, do you? What good is gossip if it isn’t juicy and risqué?”

  “Exactly my point. I want everyone to get tired of talking about me so I can do what I want without worrying about excess attention.”

  “I can give you excess attention.”

  “We can discuss that if you stick around after what I’m planning.”

  “Which is a ritual. Are we going to summon a demon or something?”

  “Witches don’t believe in demons. And you don’t sound like you’re taking this very seriously.”

  “Then who are you planning on calling on to give you information on Laurel? And my head is still spinning from seeing a ghost. Give me time to recover. I’ll be serious later.”

  “Fair enough. But this might set your recovery back a bit. I can do the ritual myself if you’d prefer that.”

  “I’m a scientist, remember? No experimenting without me.”

  “Are you up for it tonight? It would be better for all of us, I think, if we got this matter settled right away.”

  “Absolutely. Up for what? I’d like a few more details of exactly what to prepare my recovering psyche for.”

  “A ritual to Hecate.”

  “Who?”

  “Hecate. She is a primal Goddess, usually associated with crossroads.”

  “And lost girls?”

  “Sometimes. It’s more that she is good at crime scenes.”

  “Didn’t know there were many crime scenes back in the old days. The really old days.”

  “There have always been crime scenes. Don’t you remember Cain and Abel?”

  “Different religion, so I didn’t think they applied.”

  Rory opened the car door. “I need to gather a few things to prepare for the ritual. And it needs to be dark. Why don’t you meet me back here around nine tonight?”

  “Do I need to wear anything special?”

  “Just some heavy duty armor around your psyche.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Rory shook her head as he drove off. “No, I’ve got you,” she murmured. “And the real surprise of that is you just might stick around.” That was definitely something for her to think about.

  Chapter Ten

  The moon was full and bright over the ocean as Rory set her circle. She’d selected a nice smooth area mostly free from rocks, at least large ones. I
t was a spot she’d been planning to make into a permanent circle since she’d moved into the cottage. Her Wiccan practice had taught her the value of having a space dedicated to ritual and spellwork. Aunt Lorena had not been Wiccan, so there was no spot already dedicated. Her aunt had dealt only in helping troubled spirits and generally that did not require a circle.

  She’d bathed and done the cleansing that put her mind in the frame needed for sacred work. Dressed in the long black robe she used for night magic, she swept the circle space with her besom and got out the rest of her supplies. In the center of the circle, she built a spider’s web with black yarn, positioning three black candles in a triangle at the center of the web. She placed the photo of Laurel Gardner in the center of the candles.

  As she stood up she saw Travis making his way over the rocks. It didn’t help the adrenalin rushing through her to watch him striding over them with the ocean waves crashing behind him. He was dressed in black as well and looked very much like a pirate come to pillage and ravish. Ravish would be very nice at this point, she thought. Her sensible side told her sex magic wouldn’t be the best option in this instance, damn the luck.

  “Wow.” Travis whistled. “That looks pretty eerie.”

  He walked a few feet around the space before stopping to look at her. “I’m not messing anything up, am I? I mean, I didn’t mess with the aura or the energy or the what not by walking around?”

  “No, you’re fine.” Rory smiled at him, glad he’d decided to be here, grateful he hadn’t run and totally bewildered by that fact at the same time. “The circle isn’t cast yet, so you’re fine to walk around.”

  “So what do we do next?”

  “Well, everything is set up so we can get started whenever you’re ready. It helps that the moon is so bright tonight. The candles aren’t much light so the extra will be nice.”

  “Never fear, I come prepared.” Travis pulled a flashlight out of the pocket of his coat. “Don’t want to break a leg stumbling on these rocks in the dark.”

  “No, that would not be good. I’ll cast the circle and once I do, you just need to stay inside it. You can help me build the circle by focusing your thoughts, imagining a circle in your mind. That adds to the energy. After it’s cast, I’ll call on Hecate to speak to us and ask her to find Laurel.”

  Travis took a deep breath. “Sounds pretty simple. Okay, let’s do it.”

  Rory nodded and closed her eyes, pulling the energy up from the ground beneath her. When she felt it connect with her own energy, she began to walk the circle she’d laid out, seeing it grow in her mind. She could feel the energy rolling off Travis. It was a shame he wasn’t Wiccan for his energy was strong and clear. As she completed the walk around, she added a quick prayer to her patron Goddess Brighid, thanking her for the protection of her circle this night.

  She opened her eyes to find Travis staring at her. The look on his face told her he felt the energy and didn’t know quite what to do with it. Hold on, she thought, things are going to get a bit bumpier before we’re done. All she could do was smile at him and hope he hung in there. Rory moved to the center of the circle and lit the candles waiting in the web.

  The moon hung over them, and she could feel the power building as the tiny flames caught and bloomed. Holding a hand palm down over the center of it, Rory walked around the web of yarn.

  “Great Goddess Hecate, Mother of the Night and Guardian of the Crossroads, we come to you this night seeking one who is lost, one who is hurt, one who wanders in your domain seeking help and solace. We wish to heal her pain and guide her home and ask that you show us how to reach Laurel Gardner.”

  As soon as she said the young girl’s name, Rory felt a strange stab of pain hit her heart. She opened her eyes, searching the dark around her. The energy was not exactly ghostly but it held the same pain that Laurel had brought with her the night she’d appeared to them. Something, or someone watched them from outside her circle, of that Rory was certain. She glanced over at Travis, whose gaze was searching the surrounding area as well. From the look on his face, Rory could tell he felt the strangeness around them, too. Whoever it was stayed well-hidden in the shadows. Turning her attention back to the web, Rory raised her hands to the sky and pulled the energy down from the silver moon.

  “Laurel Gardner, we wish you peace. We offer you our help for your journey. In this circle, this night the domain of the Great Mother Hecate, we ask you to reveal yourself to us.”

  Rory’s words barely had time to echo in the circle and there she was. Laurel stood in front of the web, gazing at them, eyes filled with pain. It took Rory a moment to realize that the sobbing that rose up in the night wasn’t coming from the ghost in front of them.

  She lifted her gaze to the rocks around them and gasped. Travis turned to see where she was looking. Right outside their circle stood Margaret Vincent. Margaret’s eyes were glued to the ghostly figure in front of the web. Rory could only watch and wonder as the ghost of Laurel Gardner turned to Margaret and smiled. Some of the pain left the ghostly eyes as the young girl stared at the older woman with what Rory knew in her gut was longing. Travis started to move, and she motioned to him to be still.

  Heedless of both Rory and Travis, Margaret moved into the circle, reaching out a hand toward the young girl who still smiled at her. Tears streamed down Margaret’s face, and her sobs broke Rory’s heart. Whatever the connection between them, the pain rolling out of Margaret was deep and very, very real. Before Margaret could touch her, Laurel turned back to Rory and beckoned her with one ghostly hand. Not waiting for an answer, the ghostly image moved out of the circle and down the rocky shoreline. With a glance at Travis, Rory moved to follow. As she passed Margaret the woman turned wild eyes up to her.

  “Come on,” Rory whispered. “She’s going to show us where she is.″

  Travis took Margaret’s arm as they stumbled their way down the rocks and sand. At first Rory thought Laurel was leading them into the ocean. She almost turned and told Travis and Margaret to go back, but the ghost girl started back up the rocky shore before Rory could say anything.

  They had gone nearly fifty yards from the circle when Laurel led them to a tiny overhang, a rock shelter that had been eroded by the tide over many years. Laurel stopped and waited for them to come up to the shelter, her hand waving to urge them onward. Anticipation tingled in the air around them, and Rory knew they were close to the place that had kept Laurel bound to Lobster Cove all these years.

  Travis let go of Margaret and knelt by the opening.

  “Stay here for a minute, and I’ll take a look.”

  Rory nodded, reaching over to hold Margaret’s hand. To her surprise the woman let her take it without complaint. Her tears had slowed, but the heartache still rolled off her in waves. They could see the reflection of Travis’ flashlight bouncing off the rock walls of the overhang. Margaret’s hand was cold in hers. Rory cupped it in her fingers, rubbing her other hand along Margaret’s back.

  “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  Margaret gave her a mute nod, the bleak look in her eyes cutting Rory straight to the heart. Rory had a sudden fear. Was it possible Margaret was responsible for Laurel’s death? Was it guilt that brought her here? Rory thought back to the day she’d seen Margaret by the ocean. The pain had been there that day, too. What was behind that hurt, she wondered. Guilt? Regret? Or something far more sinister.

  Travis reappeared at the opening, and his gaze caught Rory’s. With a small cry, Margaret started to move past him and he blocked her.

  “We’re going to need to call the sheriff.”

  “The sheriff? You found something then.” Rory searched his face for her answer.

  Travis nodded. “Yes. And I found this.”

  In his hand he held a yellowed piece of paper. It looked like the kind you tore from a spiral notebook but it had clearly been in the weather for a long time.

  “I almost didn’t see it after I…it was under a rock, like someone�
��like she put it there so it wouldn’t blow away or wash away.” He looked at Rory and she could see the sadness in his eyes. “Like it was important to her that someone find it one day.”

  “Or find her,” Rory murmured.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sure she hoped someone would find her one day.”

  “And did we find her?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she’s in there. Or I’m guessing it’s her.”

  Rory pointed to the paper in his hand. “The note doesn’t tell you?”

  “No.” Travis looked confused as he glanced down at the paper. “The note doesn’t say much, and it doesn’t have a name. That’s why it was so odd she made sure to keep it safe.”

  “Well, what does it say?”

  Rory took the slip of paper from him and read the single line scrawled across it.

  Guess you were right about how clumsy I am, Meg.

  Before Rory had a chance to comment on the strange words, Margaret let out a long low cry then fainted dead away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sheriff Lynn Lawton-Mackenzie stared at them with hard gray-green eyes that betrayed none of the incredulity that was clear in her voice. She was a slender, no-nonsense woman who looked like she was having a difficult time believing why she was standing out by the shore on a cold November night.

  “You followed a ghost here.”

  She looked from Travis to Rory and back to Travis. He nodded.

  “Yeah. We kinda held a…thing…to call up the ghost cause…we…”

  He looked helplessly over at Rory.

  “Sheriff, I know it’s not your usual middle of the night call. But back on Samhain—”

  “Halloween?”

  “Yes.” Rory stared at the sheriff in surprise. “Yes, Samhain is the Wiccan name for the night of Halloween. Back on Samhain we saw the ghost of a young girl, a girl we later found out was named Laurel Gardner. She went missing back in 1971, and she was last seen in Lobster Cove.”

  “And you found this out how?”

  Rory noticed the sheriff’s pencil was still poised over her notebook. She’d written down nothing they had told her so far.