A Strange There After

by Missy Fleming

  “You are one of a kind. Which means we’ll have to figure this out on our own. Lucky you found me when you did,” Boone said from the sofa.

  “Really? You’re going to be that guy? Are you always such an ass?”

  “I hope you’re more fun as a living person, otherwise I’m not sure this is worth the headache.”

  “Play nice, you two,” Abby warned, but I noticed her trying not to laugh. “Let’s get back to the tree. Was it Catherine?”

  I sighed, leaning against the fireplace mantel. “I doubt it. There’s something else here. Two somethings, actually. Supposedly, Catherine made a deal with an entity, a man. I’ve gotten that much. I think he gives Catherine the power to do what she does. But, of course, Catherine isn’t talking.” I took a breath, making a spontaneous decision to not tell them as much about him—not until I knew more about what he wanted. “Then, there’s the woman. She’s crazy, at least in my opinion. She wants to hurt me more than the man. He’s not violent. He’s been kind of helpful, definitely the more powerful of the two, the one with influence and answers.”

  “Slow down,” Abby pleaded. “Just repeat that last bit, please. You keep fading in and out.”

  I obliged, taking my time and grinning when she flashed me a thumbs up.

  “Makes sense,” Boone interjected. “A normal ghost can’t do the things Catherine has done. This other spirit, the male one, might be connected to another plane, drawing the power from it and channeling it into Catherine. The million dollar question is why?”

  “Which is what we have to find out,” Abby said.

  “Double the fun,” Boone joked. “What ticked it off and turned the tree homicidal?”

  “That was the female spirit. I don’t know if she cares, and maybe it’s unrelated, but...” I glanced at Boone, uneasy because I figured he’d think I was stupid. “Last night I tried to get my body back. I kind of put myself in a position that matched Catherine’s sleeping form. It worked, for a few seconds, but I got pushed out pretty quickly.”

  “Rookie move.” Point proven.

  “At least I tried. I’m sick of sitting around and letting my life pass me by. And I’m going to try again, tomorrow night.”

  Boone groaned as Abby asked, “What happens tomorrow?”

  “There’s a wrap party Jason is taking Catherine to. She’ll be distracted, mingling and trying to impress. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

  “I really can’t picture you and Mr. Movie Star together.”

  I spun on Boone. “Did I ask your opinion?”

  “No, but maybe you should.”

  “What does this have to do with anything?” I growled.

  “It tells me a lot about your intentions, what motivates you.”

  “Do you really think you can do it?”

  I sent Abby a grateful smile for interrupting us, trying to shake off Boone’s remark, then remembered she couldn’t see it.

  “I have to try, and since you guys didn’t find much else, what do I have to lose?”

  “Um, everything?” Abby tossed out.

  “Yeah, what she says.” Boone stood and stalked over to me. “Look, I’m not saying it’s the worst idea in the history of man, but you need to be careful. Don’t forget about this.”

  He reached out and grazed my neck, where the welts from the tree branch continued to throb. Sure, his finger passed through me, but I felt it, and a spark of electricity jolted through me.

  Instead of lingering on how pleasant it was, I said, “Hands to yourself, bucko.”

  “Fine.” Boone spread his palms in front of him. “About this party. You’re not going alone. I’ll be there in case this wacko tries to hurt you.”

  “With a camera, right?”

  “I’m hurt, I really am. I went against my instincts and promised. I won’t use any of this for Ravenwood Hauntings.”

  “I’m going, too.”

  “No,” I said to Abby.

  “Casper’s right. This Catherine person will recognize you. If she sees you, her guard will go up. She doesn’t know me. It’s a date,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and flashing the dimple.

  “Casper?” I glared at him. “Casper was a boy.”

  He ignored me, pacing past Abby, gazing around the living room and foyer. “There’s darkness in this house, death and sadness. I can feel the history, a living breathing force. God, I’d love to live here.”

  Some of my animosity toward him softened. It was exactly what I experienced. Anyone who understood the joy of living with such rich history couldn’t be all bad.

  Loud grunts captured my attention, and I turned to Abby, who had a pencil inside her cast, digging for an out of reach itch. A smile formed on my lips. Having her near made everything right.

  Abby paused and smirked in my general direction. “Hey, Quinn, what ya gonna wear to the party?”

  “You’re not funny,” I drawled. “I’d literally kill for a new outfit right now. I’ve been in the same jeans and tank top since the night at the cemetery. It’s getting old.”

  Boone looked me up and down. “It’s a good thing ghosts don’t smell. I bet you’re pretty rank.”

  “Ha ha.” But I couldn’t stop the smile from stretching my lips. Once I had my body back, I planned on spending hours in the shower, scrubbing the Catherine stink away.

  Abby and Boone left, wanting to avoid Catherine when she returned from wherever she disappeared to. Once they were gone, I wandered through the house. Even knowing Jackson and George were somewhere, the place felt too empty.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day, restless the only way a non-ghostly ghost could be, I wandered from room-to-room, reliving memories from my childhood. Daddy, with his broad shoulders and deep laugh, carrying me on his back and making horse sounds. Mama, slipping into her heels before they went out to dinner. The house held so many good and bad memories. When would it end? When would the good finally get a win and chase away the bad?

  Turning a corner in the upstairs hall, determined to ignore Catherine primping in her room for the party tonight, I heard a voice. Following the murmuring, I peeked into an empty bedroom and spotted George sitting in the corner, staring at a spot on the wall.

  “Why you gotta keep hurtin’ my friends?” he asked in a broken voice, no more than a whisper.

  He listened intently, never moving his gaze from where it rested.

  “I ain’t no good boy. If I is good, I’d stop ya.”

  I watched his small body tremble, morbidly curious as to what was being said to him. His lower lip quivered, but he suddenly pulled himself up straight.

  “Quinn is my friend. She ain’t done nuttin’ wrong.”

  This time he flinched, and my chest tightened. My protective nature pestered me to rush in and shield him, but I couldn’t relay the message to my feet. Malice and coldness throbbed from the threshold of the room, an invisible barrier I dared not cross.

  “No, I won’t help you!”

  George stood and vanished through the wall behind him, leaving a sense of grief in his wake. Part of me knew he’d been talking to her, the dark woman, so I didn’t stick around for another encounter. It hit me then that Jackson had been right, she was connected to George somehow. I hurried up to the attic and sat at my vanity, studying the empty reflection and trying not to go searching for answers from George. There were bigger fish to fry tonight.

  “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

  Jackson’s sudden appearance startled me. I sighed and spun on the small stool to face him. “I don’t have a choice. Besides, it was your idea.”

  His jaw clenched. “That was before you got hurt last night.”

  “I’m fine! Do I really have to make this argument for like, the millionth time?”

  Always the same debates with him, and they got old. I prepared myself for another lecture, but he surprised me, a little. He shifted and leaned against the doorframe. “Have you stopped to consider the consequences of doing this in s
uch a public place? What if something goes wrong? What if it’s too intense for Jason to handle, and he walks away forever?”

  A shudder ripped through me, and I threw my hands in the air as I rose to my feet. “Do you expect me to do it right there, in a room full of people? Give me some credit. The whole idea of trying this repossession at the party is to catch her with her guard down. Is it a perfect plan? Goodness no, but it’s all I have.”

  “I’m worried.” He stepped closer and gripped my shoulder with strong fingers. “I know I question everything you do, but I do care for you, as much as I’ve tried not to.”

  “How sweet,” I mumbled.

  “We’ve lived together for eighteen years, Quinn. It’s hard to not form attachments, even if I steel my heart against it. Being cold and distant makes dealing with those attachments easier, but I worry about you.”

  “And I appreciate it, I do, but you have to trust me to make these decisions. In my mind, all of this is worth the risk. We have a saying these days, ‘go big or go home’. It means to go for what you want with everything you have. If I fail, at least I’ll fail trying. And I’m okay with that.”

  “You are too cavalier for your own good, but I understand your point. All I am saying is, I don’t want anything to happen to you. We’re friends, and I want to protect you.”

  There was no stopping the smile spreading across my face. I beamed at him, until he shuffled his feet in embarrassment.

  “No need to make a big deal of it.”

  “You’re not as gruff as you pretend.”

  “Well, I have you to blame for it, all your hollerin’ about living and fighting. It’s hard to let it roll off me now. The past has come back to haunt me. I can’t hide it any longer.”

  So many unspoken truths peppered his voice, and I honed in on one of them. “You still love Catherine.”

  He shook his head in frustration. “Nothing is ever as simple as you believe. I know you think I am pathetic, but you’re young, and I don’t have a simple answer to make it any clearer. ”

  “Is that why you’re here? Truly?” I wanted to press the issue as hard as he’d let me. Any time conversation veered toward Catherine, I watched him become passionate and animated. This was my chance to find out why he remained in my house.

  “Leave it alone,” he said gruffly, preparing to leave. Before he passed out the door, he turned back, pinning me with his soft blue eyes. “Be careful tonight.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, thankful I managed to learn a little more of his feelings. There was time to dwell and dissect it later. Now I needed to concentrate on what I was about to do. I fixed a sad expression on my face, burying the hope and courage I’d been building throughout the day. Catherine must see me moping around. She had to believe she won another round.

  Making my way to the foyer, I lingered near the entrance to the kitchen. Soon enough, Catherine came floating down the steps in a knee-length silk dress, the skirt hanging lower in the back. The cobalt blue color was gorgeous, accenting her soft brown tresses. As much as I hated the new hair color, it did look good. Strappy heels finished off the outfit, along with some tasteful jewelry. A stab of jealousy pierced through me. I’d never be able to pull together an outfit like that. Some women, regardless of the eras they lived in, just had the knack for being stylish.

  She caught sight of me and smirked. “Come to see me off?”

  Her tone implied confidence, but I noted familiar tells—how her fingers trembled when she played with her necklace, something I did when nervous, and her gaze kept straying to the hallway mirror, making sure everything was in place.

  “You look beautiful,” I said softly.

  Her eyes bulged in surprise. It took her a couple seconds to find words. “It appears someone is learning to accept their fate. It’s nice to not hear you screeching at me about hope and all that other nonsense.” A knock at the door interrupted us, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laying into her. “Don’t wait up.”

  I glared at the back of her head, straining to catch a glimpse of Jason. The sight of him in jeans, dark purple button up and blazer stole my breath. Yet, it was the look on his face as he gazed at Catherine that threatened to kill me. Every emotion was written there, the depth of his feelings. For a split second, I hated him. Then I buried it. I had to make this work tonight.

  “You look amazing,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Catherine deeply.

  I lifted my hand to my mouth, trying to scrub away the sensation of his lips on mine. When they separated, she laid her palm to his cheek.

  “So do you.”

  He drew her outside, and she flashed me a wink before closing the door behind her. The second I heard Jason’s car pull away I sprang into action, clearing my mind of any thoughts, except those of the luxury hotel where the party would be. If I kept it front and center, I may find it without getting lost or distracted.

  Plenty of ‘what-if’s’ and disaster scenarios tried to weasel their way in, but I concentrated on street signs instead. The closer I got to downtown the more crowded the streets became. I yearned to stroll down the sidewalk, the way I used to, taking in the eccentric buildings with their unique architecture and beautiful landscaping. Anxiety beat wildly in my chest when I caught sight of the historic Bohemian Hotel. The party for Jason’s movie was being held in the rooftop lounge, privately reserved by Hollywood executives.

  Even if I didn’t know which hotel to look for, the throng of paparazzi outside would have been a great indicator. As I approached, I noted their relaxed demeanor. They stayed to their side of the barricade, chatting or smoking, waiting for someone important to pass by. Nervous hysteria bubbled up as I darted past, wondering if they snapped a picture would I show up as a pale white blur? Would they dismiss me as lens flare?

  From the dark, richly decorated lobby with high ceilings, Savannah bricks and exposed wood beams I made my way to the stairwell. Each step seemed to increase my trepidation, and if I’d been real, physical, there’d be beads of sweat dotting my forehead. Regardless, I felt them and brushed absently at the invisible perspiration. The hotel was only five stories, so I reached the roof quicker than anticipated and followed the din of many conversations.

  Once I stepped into the lounge I had to stop and stare.

  It was gorgeous. The entire room boasted what had to be original brick facade blended with rough wood accents. A granite bar stuck out in a rectangle, the ceilings painted a burnt orange, or maybe it was the lights casting the color, I couldn’t tell. On the far side of the room large industrial garage doors were opened to the night, bringing in the scent of jasmine and river. Comfy chairs and tables topped with flickering candles dotted the wide balcony, creating a soft, yet luxurious, atmosphere.

  All around, small groups of people mingled, sipping drinks and laughing. I moved to the center, bombarded as always with the reminder I was invisible. It didn’t matter if I bumped into the woman with overly plump lips or stepped on the toe of Jason’s rival in the movie. They might feel a cold breeze or notice the hairs on their arms standing up, but no one realized I was there.

  Boone would.

  Hating how reassuring the notion was, I kept an eye out for him. He said he’d be here, but I hadn’t heard from him since the day before. Not to mention I didn’t hold much faith in him getting past the two private security guards at the entrance to the lounge. Hopefully his idea of ‘helping’ wasn’t creating a scene at the door.

  I brushed aside the unsettling feeling and scanned the room, searching for Catherine and Jason. I found them, out on the balcony, holding hands and chatting with some other actors I recognized. Jason snuck little peeks at her, each look filled with admiration and pride.

  Dang, I should have figured she’d get this right, too.

  Preparing myself for a battle, I rolled my head from side-to-side and squared my shoulders. Keeping them in sight, I faded into the shadows to avoid Catherine sensing my presence. From here on out I had to give this every
thing. I needed to know if I could overpower her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For one long agonizing hour I waited for my chance to catch Catherine alone. Forced to watch her become the belle of the ball, my courage waned. Each new person she won over was a bullet to the heart. She made it seem so effortless, charming them with nothing more than a bright smile or well-timed compliment. I began to doubt myself, whether Jason wasn’t better off with her.

  Then he walked over to the bar to refill their drinks. He passed so close to me I smelled him. Breathing his scent deeply, a mixture of soap and fresh air, my resolve hardened. I desperately wanted to feel alive. Not just because of a boy, but because I missed the rush of feeling I got when near him.

  Over his shoulder I caught sight of Catherine ducking out of the room and followed her into a brick lined hallway. When she stepped into the ladies’ restroom, I couldn’t help smiling. Perfect.

  “You’re doing it now?”

  I squealed and spun, nearly bumping into Boone. “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  “Backup.” He grinned. “Remember? Do you need a pep talk?”

  “Go away. I don’t need an audience for this.”

  “What? I can’t come in?” I glared at him, feeling time slipping from me. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait out here.”

  “Like that’s going to help,” I muttered.

  With a deep breath, I pushed through the thick wooden door, not letting the odd sensation distract me. Luckily, we were the only occupants.

  The absurd situation became even more so when I realized she was in the stall, humming to herself. No chance like the present, catching her with her pants down, literally. I stifled a laugh and focused. As soon as I heard the toilet flush, I sucked in a deep breath and threw myself into the stall door.