Justine took hold of Billy's hand to quiet her and then turned to me and said, “I was sure that Frederick was unstable as well. I petitioned the courts for custody, but he was just as wealthy as I was and fought back. He was also her grandfather and I was only a second cousin. They always ruled in his favor. I was, however, able to convince him to allow me to visit and spend time with Billy. She told me about her ghost sightings and I advised her to keep mum about it. Unfortunately, Frederick's assistant, Edgar, has a very keen eye and it was his main position in the household to watch Billy closely for signs of this curse.” Justine's eyes had become moist with emotion.
“Edgar was escorting Billy to school one day. He'd been holding her hand and when they approached the steps of the academy, Billy reached into her pocket, pulled out her ruler, and stabbed at something. Edgar cannot see the ghosts on his own, but Billy….” She hesitated and smiled toward her. “Billy can transfer her sight by touch and as such, Edgar witnessed the ghost and its demise.”
Justine sighed. “She was only nine at the time, and despite the fact that young girls need motherly influence, Frederick took her away from me to a secluded place in Germany. He wanted her schooled and studied without interruption. I tried for years to find her, but I was never successful.” Her eyes were still moist, but she looked at Billy affectionately. “When Billy was sixteen she ran away. She had never forgotten me or my phone number.” She reached over and gently laid her hand over Billy's hand. “She found a way to call and I immediately dispatched someone to her and arranged for her to come back home.”
Billy smiled. “He found me of course, but I threatened to tell everyone he was a child molester if he didn't leave me alone.” I raised my eyebrows and she smiled wickedly. “He's a lot of things, but he wasn't that. But he knew if I made that claim publicly his life would be hell for a while, so he backed off. I stayed with Aunt Justine and finished high school, and then went off to college. In my sophomore year, a man my own age approached me, told me that he had been a student of Vokkel's, and knew what I was.
“I wasn't the only ghost killer at Vokkel's compound in Germany. There were others, kids and adults alike. But I was his only relative and more importantly, I could share my sightings, and that was very important to him. He'd been studying paranormal activity most of his adult life, and he believed there was a lot more that some of the ghost killers could do besides see and kill demons. Vokkel thought that once I'd developed more control of my 'gift,' as he called it, I would be powerful like my grandmother.” The iciness in her eyes intensified to pure hatred that sent a chill up and down my spine.
“What happened to all the other ghost killers, the ones in Germany?” I was curious about them, but more importantly I wanted to know if that big house in Pacific Heights was full of people like us.
Billy shrugged and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “Don't know, and don't care. All I know is that he closed up shop and moved here again.”
“What kind of things did he think you'd be able to do once you developed your 'gift'?”
“You ever notice that some of the ghosts you kill seem to know what you're going to do?” I nodded, remembering the scary nanny in the park and how she tried to run away. “Well, that's because this isn't their first rodeo…their first victim, I mean. When the haunted dies, the ghost needs…wants to find someone new to victimize. The more experience they have the more dangerous they are. Some of those people at Vokkel's little hide-a-way could communicate with those types of demons, and got them to do things…. He thought I'd be like that.”
Phil had said the Victorian lady communicated with his ghost killer friend, but none of the ghosts I'd killed had attempted to communicate with me. But then again, I never really gave them the chance.
I looked over at Justine. She looked exhausted and completely spent. Billy followed my gaze and said, “That's enough for tonight…it's late and she's tired.” I looked at my watch and couldn't believe the time; it was almost midnight. Billy stood and went over to help Justine out of her chair. Anne appeared as if by magic and began to lead Justine away.
Justine stopped in front of me and put her hand on my cheek; it felt like parchment paper against my skin. “We'll talk more tomorrow dear. Try and rest. There is a great deal more that you need to know.” Then she leaned into Anne and they left the room.
I looked over at Billy and said, “What now?”
She smiled thinly and said, “Now you go home.”
Chapter 16
I was pretty sure the evening had effectively killed any ability to ever sleep again. Once I was home, I kicked off my shoes, poured a stiff shot of whiskey, sat on the couch, and leaned my head back. I was exhausted, but I couldn't stop thinking about everything they'd told me. I didn't have any problem believing that Vokkel was crazy…that was an easy one. But talking to ghosts? I laughed out loud…why couldn't it be possible? After all, up until six weeks ago I would never have believed I could see them, either. I wondered if Justine could see them too. She said Billy could transfer her ability by touch. I thought perhaps she must have. Why else would she believe all this if it hadn't been proven to her? I had so many questions swirling around in my head at such a frantic pace that it actually hurt. I closed my eyes for what I thought was just a moment, but turned out to be almost six hours.
The previous day and evening had been pretty warm and I'd left the living room window open. The sound of early morning birds chirping happily outside woke me and I realized that I'd fallen asleep in an upright position on the couch. My neck ached and I was still tired. I dragged myself to my room, stripping my clothes off as I went, and fell into bed.
The shrill ringing of my doorbell woke me up a few hours later. Whoever it was had to be in the hallway outside my apartment, because it wasn't the sound of the intercom bell at the building entrance. Still half asleep and knowing it was either Justine or Billy, I grabbed my pants from the floor and groggily headed to my front door. I was five feet away when my uninvited guest started pounding on the door as well as leaning on the bell. I realized, unhappily, that it had to be Billy; Justine would never be that rude.
I checked the peephole, confirmed the identity of my unwanted visitor, and yanked the door open. “Damn-it woman! What is your problem? I'm trying to sleep!”
She shouldered past me and went to the living room without a word. I followed her in and watched her pick up my whiskey glass and sniff its contents. I'd fallen asleep after one sip, so it was mostly full. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “It's almost noon, so you need to be up anyway. Don't ya think it's a bit early for this?” she said as she waved the glass in my direction.
I snatched the glass from her and headed to the kitchen, and she followed. While I made coffee, I could feel her eyes on my back. I only had on my wrinkled khakis from the night before and suddenly felt conscious of my naked upper body. Don't get me wrong, I was a strapping young man, and thought I looked pretty good shirtless. But I could actually feel her staring and it wasn't a pleasant sensation. When I turned to look at her, she had a satisfied grin on her face that said she was well aware of how uncomfortable she was making me. I left the room to find a t-shirt, and when I returned she was pouring two cups of coffee. I added cream and sugar to mine and went back to the living room.
She followed again with her own cup in hand, but didn't sit. Instead she began to walk around the room, looking at the books on the bookshelf, scrutinizing my artwork and furnishings, and saying absolutely nothing. When I couldn't take anymore, I said, “What do you want Billy? Is Justine all right?”
“She's fine, just a bit tired. Last night took a lot out of her.”
It had taken a lot out of me too, which was why I wanted her to leave so I could go back to sleep. “Okay, then answer my first question,” I snapped.
She had been looking out the window and now she turned to me and scowled. “Are you always such an ass?”
I scowled back and said, “Glass houses Billy, ever hear that s
aying?”
She laughed cynically and said, “You grew up in a nice household with loving parents. I, on the other hand, did not, and have earned the right to be a bitch. I'm good at it; don't try and take that away from me.”
I should have been surprised that she knew anything about my childhood, but I wasn't. I guessed that Justine must have filled her in. But I did find her comment amusing and a bit disarming, so I laughed and leaned back comfortably on the sofa while motioning her to the nearest chair, which she ignored.
“There's a lot we didn't cover last night, and you're on Vokkel's radar now, so you need to know some things.” She paused and angled her head slightly. “How did you connect with him anyway?”
I narrowed my eyes and asked in less than a polite tone, “You mind if I take a shower before we get into all of this?”
She shrugged dismissively and said, “Sure, I'll just riffle through your belongings while I wait.” Her amusement turned her eyes just a bit brighter and I sighed resignedly.
“Fine, don't break anything,” I said as I left the room.
My shower was quick and cold. I wanted to jump start my brain with a little temperature shock, and I also didn't want to leave Billy alone for too long, as I had no doubt that she'd do just what she said. Once I was dry and properly attired in jeans, a fresh t-shirt, and tennis shoes, I headed to the living room to find out what the little vixen had been up to. She wasn't there, but the clanking of pots and pans and the delightful scent of bacon was. I followed the sounds and smells to find her in the kitchen making breakfast. Maybe she wasn't that bad after all.
I leaned against the door-jam with my arms folded across my chest and watched her for a minute. She wore skinny jeans, with tall black boots and a fitted sweater. She had a pretty good figure and I was caught red-handed admiring it.
“Stop staring at my ass and get some plates and silverware,” she said without turning around. I should have been embarrassed, but hey, she had been visually assaulting me earlier, so all was fair.
“How did Justine know it was me?” I asked as I set the table.
“You touched her, she saw him.”
At first I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but then I remembered the sick boy and the man in the lobby. I had brushed past Justine in my hurry to jab him, and I'd touched her arm.
With her back still facing me, she said, “Not many people can share their ability with others. To be honest, I think you need to have a little untapped paranormal talent of your own to see them, and I think Justine does.” She turned around to face me, a spatula in her hand pointed in my direction. “You, my friend, can share and you shared it with her, although very briefly. A few hours later you asked about the boy. She didn't want to admit it to herself…she knows how hard this thing is on a person. When she got the note from Vokkel she knew it had to be you.”
She brought the pan from the stove and scooped half of an omelet onto my plate, then put the other half on hers. Once she was seated, she took a bite and smiled, “Damn, I'm a good cook.”
“And modest too,” I said sarcastically. However, I smiled too, because she was right, the omelet was delicious.
“So back to my question, how'd you hook up with Vokkel?”
I shrugged. “I was scared and I couldn't figure out what was happening to me.” I told her about my meeting with Phil James and Edgar crashing the tour. I even confessed my visit to Vokkel's house and what happened once I got there. I didn't mention the Watchers. I'd get to them in a minute.
She nodded and shoved another forkful of food into her mouth. When she was done chewing she said, while pointing her empty fork in my direction, “Okay, I get that. But he's a very bad man and you need to stay away from him.”
I didn't disagree; instead I asked, “Why did Justine call you? More importantly, why'd you come? I mean, couldn't you have turned me over to your watcher buddies? By the way, who are these watcher people?” She didn't show any surprise that I knew about them, so I assumed she was well aware of them and probably knew a few as well.
She raised her eyebrows at me. “She called me because I can help you, and with Vokkel involved, I'm the best person to help you.”
“So why didn't she say something before? I mean, we could have avoided him altogether.”
Billy shook her head. “This isn't easy for her. My grandmother was crazy, not just from being able to see ghosts either. That took a huge toll on Aunt Justine. And my mother's antics, followed by Vokkel kidnapping me, did not make things easier. She just didn't want it to be you, even though she knew deep down it was.” Billy looked at me, and those green eyes felt like they could see inside my soul. “She loves you like a grandson, don't ask me why.”
“Because I'm not a bitch, just an ass…makes me very lovable.” I meant it to be funny, but she didn't seem amused. “Sorry, I didn't mean….” She waved it off before I could finish.
“Don't worry about it. She's been singing your praises for years, and I know how good you've been to her—for her—so…thank you for that.”
I suddenly felt horrible. Justine had never mentioned Billy and I think Billy knew that. “Why hasn't she told me about you?”
“Because I kill things…ghosts, and…because I asked her not to.”
Her reference to “things” raised the hair on the back of my neck. I was pretty sure she meant more than ghosts, so I asked, “What sort of things?”
She picked up her silverware again and finished what was left on her plate. When she was done she laid them down and leaned back in her chair. She seemed to be in a state of thoughtful contemplation.
Finally she said, “Vokkel had these women at that place in Germany; they were sort of our teachers, from an academic standpoint that is. One of them was more like my nanny though,” she grimaced, “or bodyguard…she went everywhere I did. In order to get away, I had to get rid of her. I knew some of the people there could communicate with the ghosts, so I asked how to do it. At the time I didn't know I could do it myself… Anyway, Vokkel would let some of us go to town on occasion. The day I escaped there were four of us, plus Estelle, my nanny/bodyguard. I was on the look-out for a really bad ghost to help me, and I found one in a shop that Estelle had insisted we go into. I maneuvered her in his direction, and when we were close I took her hand and then I took his…well, as much as you can take a ghost's hand that is. It felt a lot like touching…water. Really cold water….” She flinched as she described the sensation. “When I touched him this sizzle went through me and right to her. She dropped on the spot and I ran like hell to the train station and got out of there. I learned later that she died.”
“You killed someone?”
“I didn't have a choice,” she said emphatically. She suddenly softened her tone and said, “I didn't know that was going to happen. I…I'm not proud of it, but I'd do it again if I had too.”
I should have been surprised at this revelation, but I wasn't and that bothered me. Sitting in front of me was a woman that I had a connection to like no other person I'd encountered before. From what I knew about her, which I admit was very little, her life had been hell and she'd done what she had to in order to survive.
I decided to leave it be for the time being and asked, “Tell me about the Watchers.”
She leaned back in her chair and said, “Let's take a walk, I could use the exercise.” I sighed in frustration, but I got up from the table and began to clean up the dirty dishes.
Chapter 17
We walked through Lafayette Park and headed to Fillmore Street. I had expected her to tell me about the Watchers, but she deflected the topic again and insisted I tell her how and when all this started for me. She made few comments and asked no questions, but she did find it interesting that I'd managed to suppress it for so many years; however, she didn't offer any insight as to how or why.
“How come when we kill them and the victims get better, no one seems to remember they were ill in the first place?” I asked.
“You know
when a friend or acquaintance shows up with a new haircut and you're not sure why, but you know there's something different about them, you just can't pinpoint it?” I nodded and she continued. “It's kind of like that. Their friends and family know something's different, but they don't know what. They just know the person is better for it.”
We'd reached Fillmore Street and turned north. She stopped in front of a bar with outdoor seating; it was only mid-afternoon and most of the tables were empty. Billy went to the one at the end and sat down. The sun was on its slow decline toward the horizon and the chair she took was bathed in afternoon light. She angled her seat so that it faced the warmth and closed her eyes while leaning back comfortably. She looked serene and at peace, something I wouldn't have thought she was capable of, considering her personality.
A waitress appeared and asked us for our order. Billy didn't flinch or otherwise acknowledge her, so I ordered two light beers. When she moved away to the only other occupied table, Billy's left eye opened just a slit and the green caught the sunlight and seemed to wink at me, then she closed it again and said, “Maybe I don't like light beer.”
“And maybe you shouldn't be so rude when a waitress arrives to take your order.”
She sat up straight and held her hand over her eyes to deflect the sunlight, then readjusted her chair to get it out of her face altogether. By the time she made herself comfortable again, the waitress had returned with our drinks.
What Haunts Me Page 7