I groaned. “Oh, sure, easy peasy. Why was I worried?”
“Scarlet, we’ll help you,” Gwen said. “Come on.”
I resisted the urge to argue with her. What was she proposing? It wasn’t like either of them could offer me a boost over the fence. I heaved a huge sigh; obviously, resistance was futile. “All right. Let’s go. I just hope she’s still here.”
Gwen and Sturgeon followed as I made my way across the street. I kept my eyes on the illuminated window, sure that at any moment the woman pacing her front room was going to turn, throw open the thin curtains, and see me skulking through her neighborhood like a cat burglar. Or maybe a flasher, I thought, considering my ridiculous appearance.
Sturgeon’s assessment was right on; the neighboring house had a porch light but the alley between their fence and garage was dark, and the gate was unlocked. By the time I streaked across the back yard, hunched over in a strange run-slash-crawl, my heart was slamming inside my chest hard enough that I was starting to worry about causing permanent damage.
“Come on! She’s just on the other side,” Sturgeon coaxed, gesturing at the fence. The moonlight was just bright enough that I could see the faint outlines of my two ghost companions. Or were they now officially my partners in crime? I didn’t want to think about it.
My fingers trembled as adrenaline coursed through my body. The fence separating the two yards was probably six feet tall and made of solid wood planks. There were no footholds. Terror gripped me as I realized I couldn’t launch myself over it.
Sturgeon gave an impatient sigh. “Come on, soldier!”
“I’m not a solider, I’m a florist!” I hissed back, after another attempt.
“Use the lawn chair!” Gwen cried out.
I winced as her screech carried across the yard, before remembering that literally no one else could hear her. All anyone would hear was my heavy breathing and flailing attempts at pulling myself up and over the fence.
Whirling around, I realized that Gwen was onto something. There were four chairs positioned around a table not too far away. I peeked up at the backside of the house and breathed a tiny sigh of relief when I saw that the windows were all still dark. I gave Gwen a nod and lurched into action. I snagged one of the chairs and yanked back, only to grunt and nearly topple over. The wrought-iron chair was heavier than it looked, but I managed to drag it over and hauled myself over the fence.
Sturgeon and Gwen melted through the fence and met me on the other side.
“She’s going to see me,” I whispered, flattening myself against the fence. It wasn’t just the front room that was lit up; every light in the entire house was turned on. Whoever lived inside was spooked. “What’s happening?”
Gwen tugged the corner of her lip between her teeth. “Best guess? Rosie was here for a while.”
My eyes darted around the yard. “Where is Rosie?”
The yard was smaller than the one I’d just escaped but was still a decent size and had the same fencing surrounding the perimeter, likely put into place by the contractor who’d built the subdivision.
“Whose house is this?” I asked.
Gwen shrugged. “I don’t know.”
I glanced over at her, frowning. “You’ve haunted Beechwood for the better part of three decades and you don’t know who lives here?”
“I don’t follow them all home,” she hissed, puffing out her chest. “I do have some limits to my research techniques!”
Sure.
Gwen continued, her voice still sounded miffed, “As I said, I had everyone on the lookout and Sturgeon found her here.”
I shifted my gaze to the former Army Sergeant. “What was she doing?”
“I saw someone matching the description Gwen provided and followed her through town. She wandered into this neighborhood. She was looking up at all of the houses—it seemed like she didn’t quite know where she was going. Anyway, she stopped in front of this one. I went to find Gwen to confirm I had the right ghost.”
“It’s her,” Gwen added.
I looked up at the house. There wasn’t any movement in the windows so I swallowed down the hard lump in my throat and scurried after Sturgeon and Gwen. They led me to the opposite side of the yard, beside a free-standing tool shed.
“She’s inside,” Gwen told me. “She can’t get out.”
“How did you trap her?” I asked him, jaw slacked.
Sturgeon puffed out his barrel chest and gestured down at the ground before him. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Ms. Sanderson.”
Moonlight bounced off of his silver silhouette and in the faint glow of light, I could see a white line in front of the doorway. “Salt?”
Gwen nodded. “Some people use it in their gardens. Sturgeon was able to move the bag to draw a circle. It goes all the way around the shed.”
My eyebrows lifted and I blinked a few times. “Impressive.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Normally I avoided harsh methods of ghost control, such as displacing spirits with iron or using salt circles, but in this case, I was going to give Sturgeon’s method a free pass. Drawing in a deep breath, I opened the door to the shed, careful not to displace the salt. The woman surged forward with a roar of fury. She hit the circle’s boundary and bounced backward, flying back into the space.
“How dare you!” she shrieked before whirling around. Her dark eyes narrowed when she saw me and my heart leapt into my throat. If she was able, she would have torn me into tiny little pieces right there on the spot. Hatred radiated from her like heat off a furnace.
I took a step back and held up my hands. “Please,” I whispered as loudly as I dared, darting a quick look at the kitchen window. “I need to talk to you.”
With a low growl, she propelled herself forward again and hit the invisible wall. She snapped back and the whole shed shook. Tools rattled together and what sounded like a shovel hit the floor somewhere behind her.
My pulse skyrocketed even higher and I whipped around to make sure the woman wasn’t at the back window.
“Release me, this instant!” the ghost howled.
It was a struggle to keep my voice calm. “I can’t do that right now. I just need you to listen to what I—”
“You listen to me,” she hissed, her dark eyes blazing. “Eventually I’ll get loose and when I do, I’ll find you and make you wish you’d never set foot in this town!”
The tether on my frustration broke, and unchained anger took hold, overshadowing the layers of sheer terror. I’d dealt with a lot of unruly ghosts in my time and I’d never backed down from one yet. I certainly wasn’t about to start now. I folded my arms, cocked my hip, jumped back to the very edge of the salt circle, and returned her fiery glare. “You done yet?” I snapped. “Because I’ve about had it with your theatrics and your self-righteous routine.”
The ghost reared back. Clearly she was much more accustomed to people running and screaming from her that fighting back. She was going to get a big dose of her own medicine. It was way past my bedtime and I was standing in some stranger’s backyard wearing a robe and a pair of flip flops, with uber-expensive face mask flakes stuck to my cheeks. I was about two seconds away from completely losing my patience and going as nuts as she was.
“I’m here to help you,” I ground out. “But in order to do that, I’m going to need a whole lot more information. Now, based on your little performance at my flower shop the other night—which, by the way, is not the best way to inspire goodwill—you’re angry because your house is being torn up. All right. Fine. I get it. But you can’t go around destroying windows and threatening people’s lives! And if I’m right, and you’re manifesting, then there’s no way I’m letting you out!”
“Oh yeah? And just how do you plan on stopping me?”
I shrugged. “I could close the door and walk away.”
She sneered at me. “The circle will eventually break.”
I glanced up at the house, still no sign of the nervous woman, but the
lights were still on. “Whose house is this, anyway? Why are you here?”
“I’m not telling you anything until you let me out of here.”
I laughed, a little too loudly. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening. I’m not letting you free until you give me something.”
“What do you want?” she asked, glowering at me.
“Let’s start with some basic information. What is your name?”
She hesitated for a long moment, weighing her options. Finally, with a sigh, she relented. “Rosie March.”
“I’m Scarlet.”
“I don’t care.”
Right. I ran my tongue over my teeth, struggling to maintain my tentative grip on my patience.
“Scarlet is here to help you!” Gwen lashed out.
Her outrage on my behalf was heart-warming, though not super helpful. I held up a hand and she stopped. Her shape shimmered and blurred at the edges like TV fuzz when the station gets knocked out. “It’s all right, Gwen.”
“Now it’s my turn,” Rosie said, tilting her head. “How is it that you can even see me? Talk to me? These ghosts are your … what? Friends?”
I nodded. “It’s a long story, but yes, I can see and talk to any ghost.” I took a tentative step forward. “Rosie, please … if you tell me what happened to you, I might be able to help.”
She scoffed but then her expression shifted, suddenly forlorn. The fire behind her haunting eyes snuffed out like a birthday candle and she deflated. “All I want is for them to leave my house alone.”
My heart sank. That was the one thing she’d asked for—technically, demanded—and it was the one thing I couldn’t give her.
Rosie’s form flickered. “I was murdered in that house.”
“Murdered?” My jaw dropped as I floundered for the appropriate response. “What happened?”
“I was engaged to be married,” she started, glancing down at her hand where a solitaire diamond sat perched on a thin band. “I was killed two weeks before my wedding. By my own fiancé.”
Rosie looked up. “Twenty-four years ago. We bought this house together, but I was living in it with a roommate until after the wedding. Calvin lived in a house on the other side of town with a few friends. He was a dentist here in town, still building his practice, and I worked as his hygienist. We fell in love and got engaged. Bought the house, planned the wedding. It was a dream come true.”
I shifted uncomfortably in place. “When did things change?”
“I really don’t know,” she answered, shaking her head. “I thought we were happy right up until … it … happened.”
Her eyes fluttered closed and she was quiet for a long time. Gwen and I exchanged a glance but neither of us dared to speak.
Rosie started again, her eyes still pressed shut. “I hadn’t been feeling well that day. That whole week actually. I left work early to go home and rest. I caught Calvin red-handed. He was having an affair with my best friend, roommate, and maid of honor!”
Gwen gasped. “Three women at once?”
“No!” Rosie crinkled her brow and glared at her. “Of course not! Those were all the same person … Wendy.”
“You got home and found them together?” I asked.
Rosie’s fiery eyes shifted toward me. “They weren’t in bed together, if that’s what you’re asking. But they were alone, in my house, my bedroom. What else could that mean?”
I shrugged. “Did you ask them?”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Of course. They made up some lie about packing me a bag for some amazing trip. Calvin said he’d asked for Wendy’s help to make sure he didn’t forget anything. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
I held up a finger. “Wait a sec, I thought you said you worked for Calvin? What was he doing at your house in the middle of a workday?”
Rosie shook her head. “At that point I had moved to another clinic a few towns over. Calvin and I thought it best that I didn’t work for him as soon as we got engaged. He helped me get the job with a colleague of his.”
“Got it.” I nodded, figuring it was a smart move on his part. Office romances were tricky little beasts. “So, you bust in on them, they tell you the story about the trip and the bag, what next?”
Rosie went still again. “It’s a little fuzzy, but I remember screaming, and I think I …” She wrinkled her nose. “I threw up in the hallway. I was so upset. My body was shaking uncontrollably and I could barely see a thing, my eyes were so blurred with tears.
“He kept trying to get me to listen to him. He grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me back and forth, and that’s when it happened … he pushed me.”
Gwen’s eyes were shiny. “How awful.”
Rosie focused on her and then continued. “He shoved me down the stairs. I hit my head and died in the hospital a few days later. Everyone thinks it was an accident, my death. They think I tripped and fell. A tragedy, that’s what they all said at my funeral. Meanwhile, Calvin got away. Free and clear. I don’t think the police even asked him any questions.”
I shook my head slowly. “I’m so sorry, Rosie. I don’t even know what to say.”
“All I want is to be left alone. I’ve tried for years to keep people out of my house. Now, there are people crawling all over the place, like I’m not even there, knocking down walls, tearing apart the fireplace where I’d sit and read on rainy days. They ripped out the fountain in the backyard. It was an engagement present from my grandmother.”
My chest tightened. The anger I’d held for the woman faded and was replaced with deep sorrow and compassion. Especially considering there wasn’t a thing I could do to help her get her house back.
“You have to get rid of them,” Rosie said. “That house is all I have left.”
“Rosie, I’m afraid there’s not a lot I can do to help you. The TV show has planned this renovation for several months. A lot of time and money and manpower has gone into the project. They aren’t going to up and leave simply because I tell them to. Like I told you back at my shop, there is a pocket of other people who aren’t happy about it, but they haven’t been able to shut it down either.” The fight drained out of me and I stepped forward to kick aside the salt that encircled the tool shed. After all she’d been through, it seemed cruel to keep her confined a moment longer. Especially when I’d dashed her last hope at getting her house back. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could help you.”
The salt circle broke with a slight hiss and Rosie moved forward. All at once, the fire blazed back to life, hotter than ever. She leaned in and seethed. “Then you’d better find a way to make them, or the next time we meet, there just might be another ghost for you to meet!”
Chapter 8
There was only one logical place for Rosie to flee. After closing the tool shed door, I didn’t even bother trying to get back over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. I stayed tucked in the shadows at the edge of the house and peeked around the side when I reached the front corner. The curtains had been parted and revealed that the woman was still in the living room. I swallowed hard and waited for her to turn around. She was on the phone. I could only hope it wasn’t with the local police department about seeing a deranged prowler sneaking around in a bathrobe and talking to herself in the backyard.
The moment the woman turned, I bolted for the street. My feet slipped in my pathetic excuse for shoes and I wondered why on earth I hadn’t taken the time to put on a pair with laces. By some miracle, I made it to my car without breaking an ankle or being spotted by any of the neighbors.
“Nice work, soldier,” Sturgeon said with a proud smile as he and Gwen appeared in the back seat. “That was some stealth!”
My heart jolted as my eyes slid to the rear view mirror. “I forgot the chair.”
“The chair?” Gwen repeated.
“The one I used to hop the fence. The home’s owners are probably going to notice that one of their lawn chairs wandered halfway across their back yard!”
“No problem, soldier. I’m on
it!”
Sturgeon disappeared and I looked at Gwen.
“Done!”
I gasped as Sturgeon reappeared beside her. “What did you do?”
“Moved it back,” he said, as though I were asking why the ocean is blue.
“Wow. Really? That thing weighed a ton!”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sturgeon gave a firm nod. “I’ve found that with a little discipline, anything is possible.”
“Let’s hope you have a few more tricks up your sleeve. I have a feeling we’re going to need them before the night is over.” I turned over the engine and pulled away from the curb. We passed the house and I noticed the woman was still pacing in front of the large picture window. Had Rosie spooked her somehow? And if so, why? Who was she? I’d gotten so lost in the story that I’d forgotten to push for the reason she was there. As I pulled to a stop at the four-way intersection to leave the neighborhood, I made a mental note to find out who the woman was, as I doubted asking Rosie again would get me anywhere.
I wasn’t sure what I could do about any of it. I couldn’t grant Rosie her one request. There was no way I could convince the TV studio to move on from the Lilac House. Ironically, the only way they would be likely to abandon the project would be if someone was seriously injured on the set. I sighed heavily as I turned onto the main road through town.
“Are you all right, Scarlet?” Gwen asked from the back seat.
“I don’t know, Gwen. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before.” I paused and dragged in a long, steady breath. “If Rosie’s bent on waging war against an entire crew of people, I’m not sure there’s much I can do to stop her. Most of my experiences revolve around helping loved ones find peace and closure or helping ghosts tackle their unresolved issues so they can cross over to the other side. I’m out of my league here.”
“Chin up, soldier,” Sturgeon chimed in.
It was a quick drive to the Lilac House. I pulled into the mouth of the driveway, right behind Lucas’s security van and Sturgeon and Gwen soared out of the side of the car before I even put it into park. I killed the engine and climbed out of the driver’s seat. The grounds were silent and dark, except for the rings of yellow light cast onto the front yard from the lanterns framing the front door.
The Ghost Hunter Next Door: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 1) Page 7