How does a romantic near-poet like Major Nathan Fair become so cynical and vindictive? What happened to him while he was in Savannah and Augusta? "It's obvious that he's angry at having to leave her, but—" I rub my temples, trying to get the terminology correct, but none of the phrases of Ada and Fair's era work here. "There's no way around it. He's rip-shit that he never heard from her." I grip my chest as the searing heat intensifies and spreads throughout my lungs like blistering air, stifling my breathing. "Why did she give up on him? Why didn't she answer him? Was she even alive? Had something happened to her? He's crazy-mad with doubt and the insatiable need to get back here to Radisson, despite orders from his commanding officers to stay with his unit."
I slice my eyes over to Jason, then Becca, then Taylor. "Did he come back here?"
Taylor shakes her head. "Ada's diaries just sort of trail off. There's no ending, per se, that I can see."
Celia glances about. "Do we have them all?"
Becca shakes her head. "That was all Stephanie's mom gave us."
Unexpectedly, my visions shift, like dark gray thunderclouds covering the brilliant blue sky. The information seems jumbled and garbled and I can't see clearly what happened to Fair or Ada anymore. Come on, Emily ... help me out, please.
Silence reigns in my brain, which is free of any hints or clues from anyone.
"When did you die, Major Fair? On your way back to Ada?"
I steer my gaze over to Celia. She gives me her trademark shrug. "We've hit an informational brick wall."
I raise my voice. "Come on, Fair! Talk to me!"
Nothing but the sound of the fall wind dancing with the dried leaves outside on the lawn.
Celia groans. "We'll just have to see what we get out of the spirits tomorrow night at Stephanie's house. We will get to the bottom of this."
Another Saturday night at the Crawford house. Only this time, there's no party.
"Are we going to do another séance?" Stephanie asks.
"No." I'm not doing anything of the sort. I'm neither experienced enough nor prepared for that. "We're doing this the old-fashioned way. We're going to talk it out with the spirit ... if he'll listen to me."
"Ahhh, the UN of the paranormal world, eh?" Stephanie says with a laugh.
"You could say that."
And again, it's another Saturday night in Radisson and I'm doing an investigation. However, Jason understands this time, because he sees the severity of the case and how it's touched us all. He knows it's something we all have to do.
I have my work cut out for me tonight, since I need to make Nathan see that what he's doing to Courtney is wrong. This has to end.
Celia walks up to me, wearing jeans, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, and her ghost-hunting vest. An EMF meter and a temperature gauge hang off her belt, making her look like a paranormal gunslinger. "Base camp is set up and we're good to go. We have cameras in the front parlor, the library where Courtney had the séance, and the ballroom."
"Sounds like it's time to go dark," I say. "Becca, is the place wired?"
"Like a CIA tap job!" She blows a huge bubble with her gum and then pops it. Chewing quickly, she says, "Digital recorders in the rooms, as well as a couple of handhelds to try to get some EVPs."
"I've got night-vision cameras in the rooms," Taylor says, "a mini-DVD, and my standard Sony camera. Clay's going to take digital pics for me so I can concentrate on the video."
Clay stands tall and gives Taylor a proper salute.
"What do I do?" Jason asks.
My first thought is, Hug me, to stop the slight tremors rolling through me. But it's not the time to see him as my boyfriend. He's a teammate right now, albeit the skeptical one. That's good though, because it keeps us honest and questioning our findings.
I hold Stephanie's cell phone out to him. "We need you to get Courtney here."
His blue eyes blaze. "Why me?"
Celia steps up. "Because Fair's just waiting for Kendall or me to approach Courtney for help so he can block us. He knows we're on to him. If you call, you can appeal to Courtney on her girlie level, and Fair will allow her to come see you because it's something he won't be able to resist." She casts a sidelong glance at me. "Ummm, well, that's at least what we're hoping will happen."
Jason lifts his shoulders to protest, then drops them. "Whatever. I just don't want her—or whatever you think is in her—to make a move on me. Not cool!"
"Just make the call, please."
He smiles and dials.
Jason puts the phone on speaker, and I hear Courtney knock something over at the sound of his voice.
"Come over to Stephanie's," he says to her.
"Why there?"
He swallows deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "'Cause Kendall won't think to find me over here. She's in Atlanta with her mom anyway, and Stephanie's having some people over to watch movies. It'll be ... like old times." He sneers at the memory, and my heart swells with total love for him. He's the best boyfriend ever.
Clicking off the phone, Jason says, "She bit."
Evelyn enters and clears her throat. "You have more help," she says.
Loreen walks in with a backpack slung over her shoulder. Her T-shirt reads, "The More I Know the Living, the Less I Fear the Dead." True dat, sistah.
Then I gasp when I see who she's brought.
Father Massimo steps out from behind her, wearing his priest attire and his vestments.
"Did you get the bishop's permission?" I ask through my dry lips.
His smile is heavenly bright. "I decided that you needed me, Kendall."
Loreen smacks him hard on the arm.
"Ouch! What?"
Indignantly, she says, " You decided? Like hell you did." Her sentence is punctuated with a girlish laugh.
"Okay, okay. Loreen stopped by and basically told me—well, it had to do with me growing a certain male part that she felt I was missing."
We all laugh, and I go to hug my priest for being here to support me.
"I'm here when you need me. All you have to do is look my way." He tousles my hair for good measure.
"Then let's get this show on the road."
Loreen passes around a vial of holy water and we all say the prayer to Saint Michael in unison—even Jason. Father Mass stays quiet, knowing this is our show until he feels the need to step in. And with that, we're ready to go.
Little does Courtney Langdon know that waiting for her will be a ghost-hunting team, a parent, a psychic, and an Episcopal priest, all ready to free her of the evil that haunts her.
Well, maybe not all of her evil.
We can only do so much.
Courtney arrives fifteen minutes later. I witness a hint of confusion on her pale lips as she steps into the ballroom where we're all gathered.
"I thought you said Kendall was in Atlanta."
Jason winces. "Sorry, I lied."
He takes her hand and escorts her into the middle of the room. Somehow, this contact doesn't bother me at all. Through her weary gray eyes, I see a scared girl.
"Why am I here then?"
Jason bends down to whisper to her and I hear him say, "We're going to help you."
Fair swiftly takes over. His own sinister scowl morphs onto her face, making him completely recognizable to the discerning eye.
"He's here," Loreen whispers from behind me.
"I know."
Courtney works up a good spit and propels it onto Miss Evelyn's expensive Chinese rug. "Wha'd'ya want?"
Stephanie grimaces and moves forward at the action, but Taylor holds her back.
"We'd like to talk to you, Major," I say as calmly as possible, even though I pretty much want to throw up Mom's famed chicken and rice casserole. "We haven't been formally introduced, even though we've run into each other a lot. I'm Kendall Moorehead."
"I know who you are."
"Yes, sir," I say, trying to be polite to him in spite of his hostility. "These are my friends."
Courtney's fa
ce seems aged and weathered. "How do you know me?"
"I've read all about you, Major. Major Nathan Fair from Columbus, Ohio, assigned to the Seventeenth Corps of General Sherman's army. We're here to help you, Major."
"You're not here to do anything of the sort," Courtney growls in a deep voice. Then she coughs and sputters out, "Help me!" in her own cheerleader falsetto. She falls to her knees and begins to cry.
Father Mass doesn't hesitate. He steps forward and holds out a cross. "God of gods and Lord of lords, Creator of the fiery ranks, and Fashioner of the fleshless powers, the Artisan of heavenly things and those under the heavens, whom no man has seen, nor is able to see, whom all creation fears: Into the dark depths of hell you hurled the commander who had become proud, and who, because of his disobedient service, was cast down from the height to earth, as well as the angels that fell away with him, all having become evil demons. Grant that this my exorcism being performed in your awesome name be terrible to the master of evil and to all his minions who had fallen with him from the height of brightness. Drive him into banishment, commanding him to depart hence, so that no harm might be worked against your sealed image. And as you have commanded, let those who are sealed receive the strength to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and upon all power of the enemy. For manifested, hymned, and glorified with fear, by everything that has breath is your most holy name: of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, now and ever and into ages of ages. Amen."
"Amen," we all repeat. Wow—he did come prepared.
This prayer only serves to anger Fair even more; Courtney begins pounding her fists on the carpet. "You don't understand! You'll never understand!"
I drop to my knees as well. "Then make me understand!"
I toss holy water around Courtney until she starts screaming. The piercing sound stabs at my chest, breaking my heart in two. Is this Courtney yelling out in pain, or Fair unleashing his rage?
I try to comfort the girl who dislikes me so. "Courtney, can you hear me? You've got to help me help you."
Totally ignoring me, Courtney/Fair knock me backward as she gets up and paces around the room like a caged animal. Jason's lips flatten and his eyes darken. Now's not the time for him to get all alpha male on my ass. Sometimes dealing with spirits can be a little rough. I'm okay.
I put my hand to his chest, feeling his uneven breathing underneath my fingers. "It wasn't Courtney. It was Fair."
"Either way, I'll rip his throat out."
"He's dead," I note.
"That's right. So I'll have to hit him harder."
Ahh, my alpha wolf. Tres cute.
Meanwhile, Courtney's screaming continues at decibel levels that would make a dog's ears bleed. Loreen can't take it anymore; she crosses the room and puts herself in Courtney's/ Fair's face.
"Get out of the girl, you monster, and enter me," she nearly commands. "She's not strong enough. I am. You can speak through me and we'll do whatever we can to assist you."
The laugh—that nasty dark one—reverbs off the walls of the near-empty ballroom. Courtney's lips lift in the corners and she says in a deep growl, "You aren't strong enough for me, Loreen Woods."
Loreen and I make eye contact. Behind us, Father Mass is still reading from the Book of Occasional Services. Something's got to get through to this ghost.
A soft hand is on my shoulder, and I look up to see Loreen's concerned expression. Her eyes plead with me. "You've got to talk to him, Kendall. Make Fair listen."
"I don't know what to say."
"Just try," Loreen says. "You're the one he approached first. If anyone can convince him to move on, it's you."
I wheel around in time to see massive tears gushing out of Courtney's eyes. No longer do I see the cocky bitch who terrorized me with pomegranate applesauce or the cheerleader who mockingly called me Ghost Girl. I see the good inside Courtney that's crying out for help. I concentrate on her soul and the peace it's seeking. As I try to connect with her on a spiritual level, her face becomes blurred in my sight. Her image shifts into that of a man in a blue uniform. Tall, too thin, and terribly hurt and confused. He steps forward, away from Courtney, but not totally out of her, and she slumps to the floor.
"What do you want, girlie?"
I'm standing face to face with Major Nathan Fair.
And, boy, is he pissed.
Chapter Twenty
"What happened, Major?"
"Can you see him, Kendall?" Taylor asks softly.
I nod. So does Loreen. I don't know if she can see him as plainly as I can, but I know she senses his presence.
Nathan Fair growls in my direction. He's taller than I am, but the hazards and wear of war have made him hunch over slightly. He seems dirty and sad and ... lost. Does he even know he's dead? That the war was finished a century and a half ago? How do you convey that to a spirit stuck in time?
"What do you mean, what happened?" he snarls beneath his mustache. " War's been happening, child! Death and starvation and weeklong marches. Pestilence and dysentery and blood and dismemberment. Men killing men without a thought about what the other may have left behind. Armies rising and falling. Women with no husbands returning. Babies with no fathers. Losing years of youthful days and love in your life."
Fury emanates from him toward me, and I feel each surge of his wrath hit me like a radioactive wave. I've encountered several spirits these past couple of months and none has had this amount of resentment and negative energy.
I close my eyes and try to breathe out love and understanding to him. "What can we do to ease this anger inside you? The turmoil that you've been taking out on Courtney."
He glances over his shoulder at where she sits, huddled on the ground, whimpering.
"She opened herself up to me."
"I understand that," I say, trying to be diplomatic. "But oppressing her like you've been doing isn't right. She's just a teenager and you're making her act the fool in front of the whole school."
"That was her choice."
"She didn't know any better," I plead. "She was jealous of me for a really stupid reason."
"I saw an opening and I took it."
Loreen steps up next to me. "Ask him about Ada."
Fair lurches forward, suddenly on my left, then my right, then straight on. "What about Ada? What do you know? Nothing!"
I take one of those long yoga breaths Mom's always telling about and I center my energies so I can focus solely on Nathan Fair. I've got to remain calm—and not freakin' pee my pants like I pretty much want to do. "We—my friends and I—we read Ada's diaries. They just ... end ... as if you ... just ended."
Furiously, Fair pulls his cap off and throws it to the ground. "Oh? Is that what her diary implies? Does it also say that Ada didn't wait for me?"
"Huh?"
His voice roars like the engine of a 747 whooshing away from Chicago's O'Hare. "She got married!"
I spin to face Becca and Jason. "Ada got married?"
Jason shakes his head. "I didn't read that."
"Neither did I," Becca adds.
Miss Evelyn speaks up. "Why, yes, she married. I could have told you that. The family Bible has her name as Ada Parry Kenney."
"Kenney!" Fair screams out so powerfully that I jump.
"That struck a nerve," I say as my pulse strums under my skin. "Who is Kenney, Major Fair? Did you know him?"
Becca moves her digital voice recorder in the direction of where I'm speaking. I hope she gets some of this! Taylor's taking pictures left and right. I have to ignore their investigative work and give my full attention to the spirit before me and the electrifying connection flowing between the two of us.
"Yes, I knew the bastard. His rank was colonel, but his status was weasel."
Now we're getting somewhere. "Was Kenney in your unit?"
"Aye. Colonel James Kenney from Connecticut," Major Fair explains as he strokes his beard. "At one time, I considered him a friend—before I left Radisson, that is."
While
they're working, the rest of my team is on pins and needles listening to the one-sided conversation. I fill them in the best I can. I soften my voice and meet Fair's eyes with mine. "See my friend over here? That's Stephanie. She's Ada's great-great-great-granddaughter."
"Lovely child," he comments after a moment.
"What did he say?" asks Stephanie.
"He said you're pretty."
Her face reddens. "Oh. Thanks."
I face him again. "Tell me about Ada, Major. We all want to know."
This request seems to soothe him some. He takes three paces to the left and stares out of the lace-curtained window like he's reliving a precious memory. "Ada was a strong woman on the outside, but I saw into her soul, to the fragile and frightened girl. It was wartime. What do women know of war?"
I decide not to tell him that our armed forces have been letting women in since the mid-1960s and women are now going to war just like men. Not information he necessarily needs to know.
"But you were there for her. You showed her great kindness," I tell him.
"I tried." Fair's eyes are distant as he remembers the woman he loved. "Her hair was so thick and soft. Delicate ladylike hands that could dance over the piano keyboard with such care. Those hands became rough as she constantly waited on us and worked to grow any food she could in the garden for her father and sister."
I smile at him. "She mentions in her diary that you brought vegetables to her."
"That I did."
I hate to rile him up when he seems unruffled right now. However, I've got to piece this puzzle together and get Fair to move along. "Sir? Without getting too upset, can you please tell me about this Kenney guy?"
Loreen puts her hand on my arm. "The energy in the room just shifted. I feel something dark and brooding again."
"I heard a growl," Becca says.
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