“Otherwise, what?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, desperate to slow the racing thoughts firing inside my head. “She’s going to start hurting people.”
“Can she do that?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“But it’s possible?”
Reluctantly, I nodded.
A sick feeling uncurled in my stomach. “You mentioned that one of the crew members got spooked and dropped an expensive window?”
“Yeah. Why? That her too?”
“Do you have footage of the event?”
“No.” Lucas sat back down. “Not that I have access to at least. I only have the feeds for the security equipment. I could probably get the film from editing if you need to see it.”
“Did you talk to the crew member afterward?”
Lucas dragged a hand over the back of his neck as he stared at the monitor, the ghost frozen in place in the still shot. “For a minute. He was really freaked out. He probably thought he was going to get fired.”
“Did he say anything about it?”
Lucas looked at me, his hand still on the base of his neck. “Like what?”
“Did he see something? Hear something? What got him so worked up?”
“He’d been irritable all afternoon, complaining about the AC being cranked up too high. Something about it being a waste of money since they were coming in and out all day. I’m not sure why he cared.” Lucas paused, pensive for another moment, and his eyes moved back and forth as though he were watching the memory rewind. “After he dropped the window, he was shaking, like uncontrollably. The producers sent him home for the rest of the day. He said he didn’t know what happened; he thought he had a grip on it and then the next thing he knew, it was on the ground.”
“Did he feel cold to the touch?”
Lucas frowned at me. “Why? What are you getting at?”
I chewed on my lower lip. No part of me wanted to voice the dangerous suspicion that was brewing in my gut.
“Scarlet?”
I ignored him for a moment longer and looked to the monitors that were running in real time, showing the majority of the yard just outside the van. The backyard looked peaceful and quiet. None of the motion sensors had triggered the flood lights positioned around the property. It was quiet and still, but something nagged at me.
“Would you mind if I went and looked around?”
“No problem.”
Lucas started to stand and I held out a hand. “Alone.”
He frowned and looked about ready to object, but thought better of it and gave a slight nod. He handed me a flashlight and then pulled the sliding door open. “You’re the expert.”
“I’ll be right back.” I jumped out of the van.
“Good luck,” Lucas called out as I turned the corner.
I rounded the back of the hulking vehicle and took purposeful steps onto the lawn. As I continued across the dewy grass, I became aware that Lucas was watching my every move. It was both uncomfortable and reassuring for different reasons. I still wasn’t sure what to make of the man. It was all too easy to get distracted by his handsome face and easy-going nature. I’d all but forgotten that our first meeting had taken place down in the dirt, his taser pressed into my back.
Who says small-town life is boring?
Absently, I wondered how much longer he would be in town as I turned on the flashlight he’d given to me. A few of the floodlights popped and lit up the yard, but I wandered outside the rings of light and went into the backyard. The perimeter of the house was fenced, but there was no barrier between the front and back yards. A line of hydrangea bushes and smaller shrubs was neatly planted along the side of the house and I found myself hoping they left it all intact. It needed some pruning, but the plants themselves were strong and mature.
Most of the backyard was swathed in darkness; the one security light was at the opposite end. “Hello?” I called out into the wall of shadows along the back fence. “It’s me, Scarlet. I want to help you.”
Crickets. Literally.
I frowned and scanned the yard once more with the flashlight beam, moving slowly. “Come on—please come and talk to me.”
My heart sank as the night breeze rolled through, carrying no sign of another presence.
“Sure,” I griped. “Now you’re shy.”
I trudged back the way I’d come and went to the van.
Lucas slid the door open. “No dice?”
I shook my head, trying to conceal my deflation. So much for knocking the whole thing out in one night.
Lucas’s jaw tightened. “In my line of work, it’s all about risk management, so I need you to shoot straight with me. What are we up against here? What’s the worst case scenario?”
“Honestly?” I sighed. “I don’t know. Ghosts are far from cookie-cutter. What one ghost can do, another wouldn’t even be able to dream of. In my experience, I’ve found that most ghosts can’t even move a paperclip across a tabletop. However, this one has already shown that she has some muscle and isn’t afraid to flex it. I don’t know how it all works, at least, not specifically.
She’s obviously found a way to harness her energy into a destructive force, but at the same time, there is a massive difference between the ability to break glass or throw objects and actually hurting someone. I’ve never seen a ghost physically injure someone. But, at the same time, if she’s driven enough, she could use what power she does have to set up a chain of events that could have disastrous results.”
Lucas scrubbed a hand over his stubble-coated jaw. “A broken window is a nuisance. A person standing on the other side and getting a shard to the face … ” he trailed off.
I gave a solemn nod. “Exactly.”
“I’ve got two guys on my team. Between the three of us, we should be able to keep watch around the clock. If I need more help, the Carters will foot the bill, no questions asked. They trust my judgment.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “This next idea might sound crazy—”
I snorted. “Is that even possible at this point?”
He grinned. “Probably not.”
I handed him back the flashlight. He stowed it away and then jumped down. “Didn’t figure. Go on; lay the crazy on me.”
“What I want to know is if there is a way to … I don’t know the word … expel, her?”
It was a logical question but one I didn’t want to answer. I dropped my eyes to the carefully laid stones in the driveway.
“Scarlet?”
I glanced up and swallowed hard. “Technically, yes.” Lucas’s eyes lit up and I quickly held up my hand. “But … I wouldn’t advise it. If it backfires, the results can be even more devastating. She’s already this angry. I don’t want to make it worse by monkeying around with exorcism techniques. I have a ghost trap. It would hold her indefinitely,” I paused and then shook my head. “But she has to enter it willingly.”
“Not much of a trap in that case,” Lucas complained.
I shrugged. “That’s what the voodoo lady called it.”
Lucas gawked at me. The twisted expression on his face made me laugh out loud. “I’ve led an odd life, okay?”
He flashed a grin. “We’re definitely going to need a couple more of these dinners together before I leave town.”
The statement set off a flurry of excitement and anxiety in my belly, which I quickly tamped down. “Iron dispels a ghost but the effects are only temporary. The spirit eventually wanders back and usually isn’t too happy about the treatment. That would only make it worse.”
Lucas nodded but the disappointment was etched on his face. “So what can we do?”
“I’ll come back tomorrow night after work and see if I can find her. In the meantime, I have some of my … friends … looking for her as well as asking around for information about her. If we have any luck, we’ll figure out what her hang up is and then go about fixing it. Ghosts have a reason for staying behind when their bodies have expired. The ques
tion is what’s keeping this woman trapped here in this realm. If we can help her move over to the other side, that would be best for her and obviously for the show, as well.”
Lucas gestured down the driveway and we walked together. “All right. Just let me know what you need and I’ll make it happen.”
A sideways grin tugged at my lips. “Hmm. Is this the part where I ask for a million dollars and a trip around the world on a private jet?”
Lucas chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do. You might end up with an I saved the world and all I got was this lousy t-shirt kind of parting gift.”
“One can never have too many of those, I guess.” I laughed. “Well thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced up and down the streets of the sleepy neighborhood. There were a few cars parked along the curbs, but most were in the various driveways. “Where’s your car?”
“Oh, actually, I walked here.”
“Come on, let me drive you home,” he said, gesturing across the street where I recognized the outline of his truck.
Normally I would have rebelled but a certain eeriness hung in the air. Not to mention the temperature had dropped another few degrees. I nodded and stumbled forward, cursing the shoes Gwen had insisted on. “All right. Thanks.”
Gwen pounced me as soon as I set foot back inside the shop. “Spill!”
“You’ve been waiting here the whole time?”
“Of course!”
Gossip never sleeps.
I sighed heavily and locked the door behind me. “Tomorrow, Gwen. I’m exhausted.”
She pouted. “That wasn’t the deal!”
“I know, but can you let it slide this once?”
She remained silent as I trudged upstairs and made a cup of tea.
Gwen joined me at the table when I sat down with my steaming mug. “Are you all right, Scarlet? Nothing bad happened, did it?”
“Not with Lucas, no. But I think we have a much bigger problem than expected at the Lilac property.”
Gwen’s eyes rounded. “What kind of problem?”
I grimaced, not even wanting to speak the word out loud. I recounted everything Lucas had told me about the strange happenings at the property. The pinprick of anxiety I initially felt burrowed in, creating a nasty pit in the bottom of my stomach.
“Gwen, I think she’s manifesting.”
“Manifesting? That can’t be right. That just … doesn’t happen. And she just popped up out of nowhere,” she stuttered.
I didn’t want to think it either, but it was starting to look more and more like the only reasonable explanation. Manifesting, or possession as some people refer to it, is the most invasive and destructive act that a ghost can commit, and it takes much more energy than an average spirit has.
“Yesterday afternoon, a worker was carrying a very expensive window when all of a sudden he dropped it. He’d been complaining about it being too cold and afterward, he was so shaken up he could barely speak.”
Gwen looked at me, unblinking. “Maybe he just lost his grip? He was upset at breaking the window. That could explain the shaking. Couldn’t it?”
“Lucas is going to get me the video footage to double check, but I’d bet money on my gut being right. The way he described it … it has to be.”
“What are you going to do?” Gwen asked, her voice quiet.
“I have no idea.”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ve heard of ghosts manifesting, but I’ve never understood it.”
“I’ve seen it one other time. The results aren’t pretty.”
“What happened?” Gwen asked, her eyes wide.
“Manifesting takes something from the spirit; each time it chips away a little bit more, until the spirit is nothing more than an angry, red-hot energy, forever trapped. All hope at crossing to the Otherworld, gone.”
Gwen shuddered and her silvery silhouette shimmered. “How awful.”
“On top of that, if she’s using the same person over and over, there can be permanent damage done to the human. Problems that go beyond loss of memory. Hopefully she knows that and isn’t going back to the same person, but if she’s not careful …” My words trailed off, too bleak to finish.
“We have to stop her,” Gwen said, more determined than before.
I nodded in agreement. “We have to find a way to make her see that this isn’t the way to find peace.”
She looked doubtful. “Do you think that’s what she wants? Peace? Seems to me she wants revenge.”
My eyes flew to Gwen’s. “Revenge? Why would you say that?”
“Honey, you don’t get that angry over nothing. Something provoked her.”
I drummed my fingertips against the side of the warm ceramic mug. “Either way, we have to do something before she goes completely off the rails.”
Gwen rose from her place at the table. With a resolute nod, she said, “I’ll gather a team of spirits tomorrow. We’ll scour all of Beechwood if that’s what it takes.”
“I’ll ask around and see if any of the neighbors know anything about the previous tenants. If she lived there recently—and judging by the style of clothing she was wearing, it couldn’t have been too long ago—I should be able to get some more information.”
Gwen started to disappear through the kitchen floor but stopped, frozen midway with her chest and head above, her legs and feet below. She smiled up at me, batting her lashes. “And Scarlet, dear … remember our deal? I’ll expect a full run-down on the rest of your evening when this is all over.”
Before I could object or even roll my eyes, she was gone.
“Impossible woman,” I muttered under my breath.
There was a manifesting—not to mention potentially homicidal—ghost on the loose and Gwen was worried about whether or not Lucas gave me a case of the girly butterflies.
Which he decidedly did not.
Still marveling at the weird chain of events of the past forty-eight hours, I finished my drink, polished off a sleeve of buttery cookies from the tin on the counter, and went to the bathroom to scrub off the day. After a shower, I wrapped myself in my soft robe and slapped a generous amount of a cooling, clay mask onto my face. It was imported from a fancy little shop in France and cost an absurd amount of money, but it reminded me of times abroad and did wonders for my pores.
“Well aren’t you a vision,” Flapjack commented, appearing beside the sink.
I scowled at him, but with the thick green clay sticking to my face, it was hard to say whether my steely glare was effective or not. “It’s too bad you’re not adverse to the scent of peppermint. Maybe I’ll look into getting a lemon mask next time. That should keep the heckling to a minimum.”
Flapjack swished his tail but didn’t bother replying. For whatever reason, ghosts usually had a scent that sent them running. Figuratively, of course. With Flapjack, it was lemons. One whiff and he’d vanish faster than I could snap my fingers. I couldn’t figure out why, especially since he’d loved seafood in life and it was often served with lemon juice. In any case, it worked as a repellent when he was really pushing my buttons. Which, to be clear, was ninety percent of the time.
“Why don’t you go see if you can help Gwen,” I suggested, leaning closer to the mirror to check on the progress of the mask as it dried to a thick crust.
“What’s she doing?” Flapjack asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
“Looking for the Lilac ghost.”
Flapjack leapt from the counter and sailed to the tiled floor. “As fun as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass. Chasing down insane ghosts isn’t really a past time of mine.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh yes, I forgot. Unless it involves sarcastic commentary or fish odors, you’re not interested.”
Flapjack opened his mouth, ready to volley back another tart reply, when a shrieking, semi-hysterical voice cut through the quiet apartment.
“Scarlet!”
I jolted and spun to see Gwen hovering in the doorway of the bath
room, her eyes wide and panicked. Adrenaline rushed through my system. “What? What happened?”
Gwen beckoned for me. “They found her. You better hurry.”
Chapter 7
Gwen and one of her friends, an old timer who preferred to go by his old Army call sign, Sturgeon, had indeed tracked the ghost down. She wasn’t at the Lilac property, but another house in town, only a few neighborhoods away. Gwen rode shotgun and gave directions as we raced through Beechwood Harbor to the quiet neighborhood. Only one house had lights on inside and as we neared, I saw the silhouette of a woman in the front room. It looked like she was pacing back and forth.
“That’s the house!” Gwen cried out, pointing up at it.
“Great,” I said before heaving a sigh. “Please tell me she’s not inside?”
Gwen shook her head. “She’s not. Backyard.”
I frowned up at the house as I parked along the opposite side of the street, a few houses down. With one hand still on the wheel, I twisted around and reached for the extra coat I kept in the backseat of my car.
I’d found that the coastal weather was often unpredictable and while it might be sunny one moment, the next it could be pouring down rain. It was easier to keep a spare coat in the car for such occasions, and since Gwen hadn’t allowed me time to slip into a pair of jeans, I was glad that I did. She hadn’t even wanted me to waste time washing the mask off my face, so I scrubbed it off as well as I could while driving. I was still wearing the thin bathrobe that barely reached to mid-thigh. The winter coat didn’t help much in covering my bare legs, but once zipped up, at least ensured that I wasn’t going to be giving an accidental peep show as I crept through the neighborhood.
“How am I supposed to get in the backyard without anyone seeing me?” I asked, quietly closing the driver’s side door. I bundled into the coat, tugged at the hem of my robe. Face mask remnants, flip flops, and a parka … I really couldn’t risk anyone seeing me.
“Easy,” Sturgeon replied, appearing suddenly at my left. “Go to the house next door, slip around the side of the garage—they don’t have a security light—jump the fence, and you’re there.”
The Ghost Hunter Next Door: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 1) Page 6