A Strange There After

by Missy Fleming

  For a split second, we were all frozen in shock. Until Abby shook it off and chased after him. “Wait, listen to these headphones. I can prove it!”

  Her reply came in the form of a slamming door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After Catherine and Jason made their exit, silence enveloped the rest of us. I stared at the door in disbelief. Despair mixed with anger, coloring the edges of my vision red. Rooted in place, I struggled to form a rational thought. From far away, I heard Abby and Boone, apparently as shocked as me.

  “Well.” Boone started.

  “Did that just happen?” I asked weakly.

  “It did not go as expected,” Abby deadpanned. “I mean, seriously? Is he blind?”

  “Or just stupid?” Boone crept in my direction, slow, as if expecting me to come unhinged. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

  Unable to speak, I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head in uncertainty.

  “What now?” Abby asked.

  “Not sure about you, but I’m waiting for them to come back. Besides, I don’t think we should leave Quinn alone.”

  “Good idea.” Abby yanked open the pantry and pulled out a box of macaroni and cheese, then went in search of a pot. “I eat junk when I’m frustrated, so junk it shall be. Think he’s always been hardheaded?”

  “Most people are so firmly rooted in reality they can’t open their minds enough to grasp a concept as fundamentally different as the supernatural or paranormal, let alone accept it. They believe only what they see, even someone who swears up and down that ghosts exist.”

  Boone’s speech snapped me out of my astonishment over Jason’s departure, although I only managed one word, “Profound.”

  Relief swept across his face. “I am capable.” He pulled the milk out of the fridge and passed it to Abby. “I’m sure it’s on one of my webcasts, in case you want to download them and play it whenever you think of me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I doubt I’ll ever be able to get you out of my head,” I mumble.

  Abby laughed, but Boone took it the wrong way. He leaned close and winked at me. “I can live with that.”

  I rolled my eyes and approached Abby by the stove. Summoning the energy, I laid my hand on her shoulder. Startled by the touch, Abby squealed, and the pot clattered to the floor, sending noodles and water flying. With her unbroken hand to her heart, she said, “Warn me next time you do that.”

  “Sorry,” I managed to squeak out through my laughter. Abby chuckled too as she wiped up the mess and started over with a new box.

  “Might as well come in and join the party,” Boone said.

  I turned to find Jackson near the breakfast bar, his spine stiff, legs spread, as if he couldn’t decide if he was coming or going. Poor guy looked awkward.

  “He’s right,” I said. “You’re always welcome with us.”

  Jackson dipped his head once. “Thank you.”

  He took a total of three steps into the kitchen before stopping and giving Abby and Boone a cautious glance. In order to include him, I went over and stood by his side. Leaning in, he asked, “What is she making?”

  “Macaroni and cheese. Pasta. She and I lived on it growing up. It’s processed nastiness, but if you don’t think about that part, tastes pretty good.”

  “There are tons of amazing foods you’re missing out on,” Boone added. “I mean, they probably didn’t even have hamburgers in your age, did they?”

  “What is it?” Jackson inquired.

  “Well, that answers that.”

  I took over for Boone. “It’s a piece of ground beef, usually cooked on a grill and put between two pieces of bread. You can top it with a lot of different ingredients—onions, lettuce, cheese.”

  “Bacon,” Abby added.

  “Guacamole,” Boone put in, drawing a disgusted look from Abby. “What? It’s good!”

  “I tried one with bleu cheese once. Nasty,” I shuddered at the memory.

  “What about the street fair we went to, Quinn? They had deep fried hamburgers.”

  “You southerners will deep fry anything,” Boone teased.

  “Aren’t you from Florida?” I asked, eliciting a shrug from him. To include Jackson, I directed a question to him. “What was your favorite food?”

  He startled, not expecting to be brought into the conversation. “Fried chicken. Lilah, our cook, she seasoned it to perfection. I used to dream about it at night during the war. We’d be eating rice and beans, but I’d tell myself it was her fried chicken.”

  I bumped him with my shoulder. “You really are a southern boy to the core.”

  “What about desserts? What did they have back then?” Abby busied herself draining the noodles and mixing in the cheese and milk.

  “Not so different than what you have. Pies and cakes. Pecan pie was my favorite. I learned early how to sweet talk my way into the kitchen to sneak pieces. As well as biscuits smothered in honey.”

  “I need to take you out for hot wings and pizza,” Boone said good-naturedly. “Guy food. You’d like it. Maybe a good microbrew.”

  Boone’s casual acceptance of Jackson knocked me for a loop. As much as I didn’t want to, I compared him to Jason, wondering if he’d be as easygoing. Sadly, I wasn’t sure. It was a confidence and ease that only came with years of being exposed to the paranormal. Not that Jason wouldn’t adapt, but it just showed how seamlessly Boone fit into my world.

  “Beer, yuck.”

  “I take it you won’t be one of those freshmen out doing keg stands, Miss Abby?”

  She brandished a cheesy wooden spoon in Boone’s direction. “Heck, no. I spent my entire high school career not giving in to peer pressure. I may not have been popular, but I had conviction. I don’t plan on bending to other people’s whims now. I’ll be going for the winter semester. It’s going to be stressful enough without adding toga parties and tailgating.” Holding up her arm, she said, “I delayed a bit due to an unforeseen incident in a graveyard and my best friend going all Night of the Living Dead on me.”

  Our plan had always been to attend Savannah College of Art and Design together, me for photography and her for graphic design. I’d been accepted already, as well as a couple institutes up north. Until I learned of Marietta’s lie about the house not passing to me and Mama’s trust fund, I’d been ready to leave Savannah behind. Instead, I got stuck with the small matter of kicking Catherine’s butt back into the afterlife. Simple.

  “High school sucked.”

  Boone’s mumble caught my attention. “Don’t tell me you, Mr. Confident, had a crappy four years.”

  “I see dead people. What do you think?”

  I had to give him that. I totally understood. “I hear ya.”

  “I’ve seen some of your modern schools, from the picture box everyone calls a TV. I’d take a northern prison any day.” Jackson shuddered.

  Abby passed Boone a bowl of pasta, and I caught a faint whiff. “I can’t wait to eat again.”

  “We’ll take you out for a celebratory dinner,” Abby said.

  “Oh, the place down by the river, the barbecue joint.” I practically licked my lips. “As sad as it is to say, the thing I miss the most is sweet iced tea with a wedge of lemon.”

  “I’d miss my energy drinks.” Boone’s tone was wistful.

  “I haven’t seen you drink a single one since I met you.”

  He grinned at me. “Maybe you’re excitement enough.”

  “You’re lucky, Quinn,” Jackson began. “To have friends like this who care for you. They, more than anything, are what will keep you tethered to your life. Without them, you’d truly be lost.”

  His serious statement hung in the air, knocking all of us silent.

  Boone was the first to recover. “Well, buddy, consider yourself part of the group. Probably gets boring with only Quinn to talk to all the time.”

  To my utter astonishment, Jackson tipped his head back and laughed, long and hard. It must have been contagious because s
oon we were all nearly hysterical, punch drunk on the crazy events of the night.

  Our good moods lasted a couple more hours. Both Abby and Boone showed signs of exhaustion, but neither left. After they’d eaten, we moved into the living room, the unspoken question keeping us all on alert.

  When would Jason and Catherine return?

  The answer came around three in the morning. Jackson was patiently feeding Bonne’s unending curiosity by regaling him with stories about the war. Abby dozed on the couch, the earbuds that had become an extension of her slipping out and dangling on the floor. I roamed the room listlessly, trying not to let despair take me down a dark road.

  When Jason and Catherine entered, the tension between them was cloying. Abby shot up, fully awake, and silence descended on the room. I also noticed Jackson had vanished, obviously not in the mood for any more of Catherine’s barbs. I raked my gaze over them, hungrily searching for any signs my prayers had been answered. Jason looked mad, very mad, while Catherine pouted behind him, a sullen expression on her face.

  Boone pushed to his feet. “Let me guess? You believe us?”

  Jason nodded curtly. “Yes.”

  “Hallelujah,” Abby muttered. “Did her head spin completely around?”

  “I took her to the spot I saw Quinn for the first time.”

  He didn’t call her Quinn, must be a good sign. Impatience danced inside me as I waited.

  “You tricked me,” Catherine bit out.

  “That was the point,” Jason replied, equally hostile.

  “Explain.”

  Abby’s request caused Jason to amble wearily into the living room and perch on the edge of the couch, staring at the floor.

  “I met Quinn on State Street. She was staring at these cool, twisted trees and not watching where she was going. We literally smacked into each other. And she proceeded to insult me and leave me speechless.”

  “Sounds like her,” Boone mumbled.

  “So, tonight, I found some random street and asked her if she recognized it. She failed.”

  The dejected set of his shoulders said it all, and a tiny speck of relief bloomed inside me. When he left earlier, he had enough doubt to test her. It gave me hope.

  “I’m going upstairs to change,” Catherine huffed, then flounced off, still in her dress from the party. Granted, it was wrinkled as heck, and her hair had gone limp, but she still made it look good. No one reacted to her leaving, too focused on Jason. I sort of expected him to fly off the handle, get mad, but it was as if all the fight went out of him.

  “She wouldn’t talk to me, so I need you two to tell me what is going on.”

  Abby scooted closer to him, replacing the buds in her ears. His sentence came out choked and full of emotion. I hated seeing him in pain, but I also wanted to do a little victory dance. An image of them kissing flashed in my mind, and the walls shot back up around my heart.

  “We’ve been trying to figure out what the situation was first,” Abby said. “Quinn came to see me four nights ago. I caught an EVP of her asking for help and saying not to trust Catherine, that she stole her body. Then, thanks to her, I met Boone, who knows a lot more about this stuff than me. I wanted answers, so I came here. I waited until Catherine left, then Boone and I snuck into the backyard.”

  Boone took over. “There are some weird things going on in this house.” He shuddered uncharacteristically, probably remembering the tree. “Anyway, Quinn’s plan was to get her body back at the party, but it obviously didn’t work. She figured if her experiment was successful then she wouldn’t bother telling you some insane story until it was over.

  “Her plan worked, just not very long,” Jason grumbled then, he latched onto part of her statement. “Quinn, she’s okay?”

  “She’s pretty ticked off, but refuses to give up,” Abby said. I moved over toward them, counting on Abby to catch the disturbance in the air, as she did earlier. She must have because she smiled. “She’s here with us.”

  A grey pallor crept across Jason’s face, and I saw his neck working as he swallowed hard. Holding my nonexistent breath, I waited.

  “It’s not possible,” he whispered.

  “It is,” Boone reiterated. “Stop and consider it for a minute. She’s with us. Imagine what your indecision is doing to her.”

  Catherine chose that moment to return in plaid pajama bottoms and a black tank top. I gaped at her appearance. Certainly didn’t expect her to come back willingly. She sat in the desk chair, idly spinning it in circles. “Get on with it. I’m sure you all want to burn me at the stake, huddle together and come up with a plan to save precious little Quinn. You’ll spend the rest of your days trying. So have fun.”

  “Give it up, for God’s sake,” I said, tired of her crap. “I told you, the fact I’m hanging around proves your plan didn’t work, not completely. I’ve proven it twice by regaining control of my body. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “Why should I just give in? Because you asked so nicely?” She raised one of her brows, something I’d never been able to do and said, “I have a hundred and fifty years of knowledge on you, tricks you can’t begin to imagine. Not that I’ll need them. The way you’re going, you’ll tick off the spirits and solve all my problems.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Jason’s voice boomed out.

  “Your girlfriend.”

  The desire to slap the smirk off Catherine’s face glowed hot inside me, but I shoved it aside as I remembered what happened earlier when I let it loose. Jason grew stiff as the truth truly took root. Shock was replaced by horror, and in an instant, he advanced on my doppelganger. He gripped her by the upper arms, lifting her out of the chair. She hissed in annoyance.

  “Quinn has been here the entire time?” Catherine’s silence was his only answer. “I didn’t want to believe any of this until I actually heard it from your mouth.”

  “Poor girl’s become quite good at moping,” she joked, obviously bored with pretending.

  “How did you think you could get away with this?” He shook her frantically.

  “Up until this moment, I have.”

  Jason shoved her away, eyes darting frantically around the room. He slumped against the wall for support. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but for some reason, I couldn’t erase the image of his lips on hers.

  “I’m such an idiot.”

  Abby approached him. “You’re not the only person she fooled, Jason. I thought Quinn was adjusting to life after Marietta. Until she never came to visit me in the hospital, like you did. It was a big fat red flag.”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Catherine quipped.

  “This is better than reality TV,” Boone said, drawing a chuckle from me.

  Jason ignored him. “But I made out with her.”

  The word contained such loathing, my body shuddered in response. He pointed at Catherine, unable to look in her direction. She took that as her cue to saunter over and run a fingertip down his arm.

  “Don’t forget to add how much you enjoyed it.”

  He slapped her arm off, moving quick and pushing her into the wall. Abby gave a squeal of alarm and almost stepped into me.

  “Finally,” Catherine purred. “I’ve been waiting for you to show a little passion.”

  The lights flickered three times, and he released her as if she’d grown hot, backing away, his chest rising and falling heavily. He eyed the fixtures with caution.

  “What was that?”

  “Don’t make the mistake of forgetting who I am,” Catherine muttered in a low voice.

  “How can you still have this much power?” Boone asked.

  She studied him with disdain. “Are you under the impression that if you ask me enough I’ll give in and tell you?”

  “I figured you’d have regained some of your compassion throughout the years.”

  “Oh, Abby, so naïve.”

  I listened to their banter with half an ear. Jason held my attention, as well as the bewilderment hardening his featu
res. He stared at the hardwood floor, as if the pattern held all the answers. I moved closer to him, my fingertips itching with the need to touch him. I drew on the air around me, letting it warm my body. Then...I lifted my hand, letting it graze his.

  Startled, he swung his head in my direction, torn between searching the empty air and studying his palm. His mouth worked, trying to form words, and glee danced through me.

  “Abby?” he croaked. “Take them to the kitchen. I need a moment alone with Quinn.”

  Abby nodded and dragged Catherine in the direction of the kitchen. Boone took his time leaving, stopping to talk to me first.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, then decided against it and left.

  The silliest sensation of awkwardness fell over me once Jason and I were finally alone. I soaked him in, taking in his sculpted cheekbones and the dark, messy hair. The faintest trace of a beard dusted his jaw. He looked so tired.

  “Quinn...” Anguish thickened his words. He licked his lips and tried again. “Quinn, I swear, I had no idea it was her. God, you must hate me. I knew you’d been through so much and that was why you were acting different. I mean, why she acted different. You have to understand and forgive me.” He reached out to grasp the arm of the couch, bending over and growling softly. “She will make this right, I promise. I won’t stop until you’re where you belong.”

  Emotion clogged my throat. It was probably a good thing he couldn’t hear me because, while part of me understood, I wasn’t exactly ready to let it go. He kissed her, and yes, it might have been my lips, my body he touched, but the betrayal still stung. The mixture of anger and grief bubbled inside me, warming me and filling me with energy.

  “Jason.”

  He turned toward me with wet eyes and a gaping mouth.

  “I heard you. You’re here.”

  A trembling hand lifted, stretching, searching. Ignoring it, I drifted closer to him, breathing in his scent. Clinging to the waning energy, I brushed my lips across his cheek. His gaze widened as he drew in shocked breath.