“I felt you again, too.” He smiled tentatively. “Hey, Quinn.”
His words startled me. They drew my attention from his strong profile and surrounded me in happiness. Encouraged, I looked around frantically for anything to use to communicate with him. I caught sight of a lamp in the corner. Using my concentration, I focused on the energy it emitted, even while off. It took a little maneuvering, and a lot of effort, but I managed to switch it on.
“Well done.” He chuckled. “What’s the trick you ghost hunters use? Make it light up once for yes, twice for no? Let’s try it.”
Jason tucked his hands in his front pockets. He relaxed, seeming more like the Jason I remembered.
“Do you miss me?”
The cockiness in his question reminded me of when I first met him and how I found it a bit annoying, similar to how I do with Boone. I lit the light up, as bright and long as I dared, grinning at his expression of wonder.
“Good, because I miss you like crazy. Can you walk through walls?”
Missing the playful side of him, I gave him a ‘yes’ response and waited for the next inquiry.
“I bet once this is over you won’t want anything to do with ghosts, ever.”
No.
“Right, I really didn’t need to ask that one. Let’s see...have you seen Elvis yet?”
Flicking the light multiple times, I chuckled. Joking with him came naturally, and my heart practically glowed in my chest.
“I wish I could hear your laugh.” His tone sobered. “Have you been hurt?”
I answered no. I didn’t have the ability to describe the horrors I’d been through, physically and emotionally. Doing that would dampen our unconventional reunion and make him feel worse.
He huffed out a heavy sigh. “Are you scared?”
An easy affirmative. Already, my energy began to wane, and I desperately clung to it, wanting to keep up the conversation.
“Me, too. We have to stay positive, both of us. I’m sure we’ll find a way to undo this. Don’t go doing anything stupid.”
I flicked the light once, hoping he interpreted it as an agreement. It was the closest I’d felt to him in so long. I didn’t have much family anymore, so Jason mattered. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if it was love or not, but I deserved a chance to find out.
He closed his eyes, and I reveled in the realization I’d done it. I’d made contact. For the first time, true joy wrapped me in a tight embrace. We’d find a way to reverse this. I wasn’t ready for an eternity of lingering caresses gone too quickly.
Jason stood tall, clenching his fists at his side.
“Come on. I’m going to find out what she knows. One way or another.”
Chapter Eighteen
I followed Jason into the kitchen, where Abby and Catherine were locked in an intense staring contest. My friend stood by the windows, her stance defensive, a scowl twisting her brows. Catherine perched on the edge of a wooden chair, displaying an air of extreme disdain. Boone lounged across the table from her. His eyes sought mine as soon as I entered, and I offered him a tiny smile, unsure of what I felt now the truth was out. Impatient. Exhausted. Still misplaced.
Jason joined Abby as I placed myself between them and our enemy. Catherine picked at her thumbnail, humming an energetic tune I didn’t recognize.
“Let’s start with an easy question,” Jason said, breaking the silence.
Catherine sighed, crossing one leg over the other and leaning into the chair. “Fine.”
“Wait,” Abby interrupted, restarting her trusty recorder and adjusting her buds. “In case Quinn wants to say something.”
“I didn’t know you were actually hearing her just now,” Jason remarked.
“Sorry,” she bit out sarcastically. “I also didn’t think it would be so hard to convince you of the Great Body Snatching Incident. She’s also very quiet. I catch some of her words and fill in the blanks. I’ll let you use it later, when you’ve adjusted a little more.” She fiddled with the buttons, and I understood her unspoken meaning. She wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook for not believing us about Catherine. “Okay, I’m set.”
Jason nodded, all business, and began his questioning.
“You’ve been Quinn since the night in the cemetery?”
“Yep.” She smiled like a satisfied cat.
I could practically hear him grind his teeth at her lack of cooperation. He tried a different track. “And from what I walked in on earlier, you’re up to your old tricks?”
“Why do I always get blamed?” she pouted.
“Because you’re usually responsible,” I said.
Abby barked out a laugh, and Jason looked at her expectantly.
She caught his glance and grinned. “She said, ‘because you’re usually responsible’.”
In a flat tone, Boone jumped in, telling Jason everything, from when we’d tried to get me back where I belong, to the two different entities and what we had learned about them.
“Does Quinn have any idea why this seems to be escalating,” Jason asked.
I sighed, wracking my brain to remember what had changed the last couple of days. “All I’ve been able to come up with is this woman is ticked off at our family for some reason. The man, he’s different. I get the sense he’s more of a background figure, watching and observing, not ready to make his intentions known.”
Catherine’s tone turned dire. “How many times have I told you not to bother yourself with details you do not understand.”
“Which brings me back to my point—you’re to blame.”
“Don’t lay this all on my feet. So what if the woman’s hurt you? She is child’s play compared to him.”
“Stop!” Everyone turned to Abby. “Sorry, it’s hard trying to keep up with you two. All I caught was something about the man being as dangerous as a child. That can’t be right.”
“You actually hear her?” Jason demanded.
“I told you, it’s faint, and I can’t make out all the words, but yeah, works pretty good.”
“Wonderful,” Catherine murmured.
Jason stared into space, again, probably trying to gather his thoughts. I watched him shake it off and glare at a spot over Catherine’s shoulder.
“Who is this woman, the other one?” he asked.
Playing with the ends of her hair, Catherine explained. “Some would say she’s what started this entire mess.”
A heavy silence fell over the room, as we all waited for her to say more. Of course, she didn’t.
I answered for her. “That could be. Jackson said her story is tied to the boy’s, George, so she’s been here a while. Although I never sensed her until I was like this.”
“You and Jackson are awfully chummy,” Catherine said, casting a scowl in my direction. Her displeasure made me happy.
Ignoring her, I spoke to Boone, “The woman is dangerous. She’s the one who hurt me and the other ghosts. The man, the one Catherine made a deal with not long after dying, he has the power to stop the attacks.” I didn’t add in the part about him offering his help or how it tempted me. My friends would not like that bit, and I needed to find out more about what this offer meant.
There was a pause then Boone posed another question. “Tell us about this deal you made.”
Catherine shifted in her seat, keeping her lips sealed. The longer the quiet stretched out, the tenser the air became.
“She’s not going to help. Why should she? Once a selfish witch, always a selfish witch.”
The glare Catherine shot Abby was hot enough to melt steel, but she maintained her poker face. In fact, she stood and said, “I don’t have to take this.”
She hadn’t even made it two feet before Boone jumped into her path. “Nope. You’re not going anywhere.”
“You can’t keep me here!”
“The hell we can’t,” Abby added.
“I’ll tie you to the chair if I have to,” Boone warned.
Panic flashed in Catherine’s expression, and I couldn’t s
top my grin. Once it passed, she glared at Boone unconvincingly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” His jaw clenched as he stared her down.
“I can’t talk about this.” This time, her bravado faded some, and true emotion peeked out. Fear stole the color from her cheeks, and moisture gathered in her eyes.
“If you’re scared, it means we’re on the right track,” I said.
Her gaze darted around the room. “I’m not some simple girl you can bully into talking. I’ve seen things, done things. Things your innocent soul cannot fathom, Quinn. You should be as afraid as I am.”
“Tell us!”
Jason’s shout startled us all, and Catherine’s moment of weakness snapped.
“Fine.” The word exploded out of her mouth, and tears formed in her eyes, real ones this time by the look of it. “Stop yelling at me.”
On wobbly legs, she returned to sink into her chair.
“I don’t remember much about dying,” she began in a rush, “but believe me when I say drowning brings about suffering. Add in the fact my body was broken, making my struggles almost too painful to bother with. I recall a moment of peace before the blackness overtook me. How I wish it would have been a true end. Maybe I died with too much hate in my heart—hate at my husband, at my family, at Jackson for not coming soon enough. I’m not sure why I didn’t pass on to whatever comes after.”
A wry smile twisted her lips. “I woke up thankful, ecstatic. I truly believed I’d survived. My first instinct was to run home.” She gazed at the house in sadness. “It was night, and I asked a few strangers I came across for help. They didn’t even acknowledge me. I probably looked terrible or so I told myself, having just crawled from the Savannah River. If it were me, I wouldn’t have given a moment’s thought to someone as bedraggled as me.”
Surprisingly, I became sympathetic toward her. A trickle of sadness passed between us, through the connection we had. I knew what it felt like to wander the streets and not be seen, to beg for aid and not be answered. Not many understood such a deep level of loneliness. As much as I hated finding common ground with Catherine, I knew what her shoes felt like.
Her story captured Jason and Abby’s attention. Both watched her with rapt expressions, but Boone seemed to be listening with half an ear, mulling the information over in his head.
“The sight of my home lifted my spirits. While I do blame my parents for tossing me into a fateful marriage, I ached to be held by my mother’s loving arms. No matter what passed between us, I loved her as any daughter would. Now she avoids me as if I am a plague.”
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, wiping at her surprisingly wet cheeks, and carried on. “In my haste, I didn’t stop to open the door, as if, deep inside, I already accepted what I was. The house was quiet. I had no idea how much time had passed between my death and my homecoming. I heard voices and followed them. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the dining room to find my father and my brother, who we’d long thought a casualty of the war.”
“A brother?” I asked, the same instant Abby said, “Wait, you had siblings?”
“Of course. If I’d been an only child, our family name would have died with my parents. Nate,” Catherine sighed. “He was the oldest, the golden boy, smart and handsome. When the war broke out, his sense of duty had him following Jackson straight into the recruitment office. They were best friends, did everything together.
“Anyway, I learned from listening to my father and Nate’s conversation that he’d been a prisoner. The Yankees set him free, but it was winter. He came to a farm, the family suffering from the long years of fighting. My brother always had a soft heart. They offered him shelter from the snow, and in return, he helped them through the cold months, replanted the fields that had been burned. William and I married two months before Lee surrendered, and we lasted six more before he killed me. By the time Nate made it home, his sister was dead and his mother confined to an asylum.”
“As terrible as this all is, what does it have to do with anything?”
Boone’s harsh question jolted Catherine to the present. She shot him a hot gaze, narrowing her eyes.
“Imagine trying as hard as you can to get those who loved you to hear your voice. Nothing I did drew their attention. Quinn understands. And I know for a fact your perfect little princess has been tempted by the same darkness I was.”
I paused. How did she know?
“No,” Jason barked out. “She wouldn’t. She’s not you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. It’s not my fault you don’t like the answers I have.”
“You haven’t really given us any,” Abby piped in.
“Quinn’s being awfully quiet, isn’t she?” Catherine goaded.
I swallowed thickly, wondering how the conversation had swung back to me. Catherine possessed a knack for pulling the spotlight off of her and directing it to someone else. She shared some, enough to make me believe she might have been willing to tell us the truth, but she was too clever for that.
“Ask her,” she continued. “Ask her about when she attacked me in the kitchen. And again when Abby was standing right there.”
“Only because you were trying to choke me!” Abby cried.
But Catherine wasn’t done yet. “And of all the ghosts you’ve investigated, how many can throw a person across the room? She’s getting desperate, and it lets the evil in. I know what is stalking her and how it prays on the weaknesses of others. And Quinn’s weakness is you,” she turned to Jason, “and you,” she pointed at Abby. “Everyone she cares about is a trap for her.”
Jason’s eyes widened in shock, and ice shot through my limbs. Even when he blinked the surprise away, I got the feeling it wasn’t fully gone.
“Enough,” he said. “This isn’t about her. It’s about you. You didn’t answer the question about this dark man and what he gave you.”
I answered for her, knowing full well he wouldn’t hear me, and shared some of what I’d concluded on my own. “He provides Catherine with her power. I’m not sure how, but he does.” A memory surfaced. “Voodoo! Abby, you need to find someone with knowledge of voodoo. They might be able to give us some information. Me and Boone talked about it the other night. It’s worth a shot.”
“Shut up!” Catherine shouted, and I smiled in triumph.
It wasn’t often anyone managed to lure her into breaking her stony façade, much less twice in such a short time. If pushing her got me what I wanted, I wasn’t afraid of doing it. Sure, she could hurt me or the people I loved, but those were the risks I had to take.
Jason looked at Abby. “What did I miss?”
“Quinn said we needed an expert on voodoo. Catherine is getting her power from this dude they’re talking about, and it might be connected.”
“It won’t work.” Catherine’s words lacked their usual bite, which meant we were on the right track.
“Can you find one?” Jason asked Abby.
“Absolutely. It’s a pretty common thing here. I can do some research, make a few calls,” Boone offered.
Catherine crossed her arms, sinking into the chair, her face hard as stone and pale with fright.
“Thank you, Abby,” I said.
“You’re welcome, ghostie.”
Her answer brought a slight laugh from my lips. I glanced at Jason, who appeared to be battling the urge to speak. When he didn’t, I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or sad.
He gave his attention to Catherine, staring at her full on.
“I’m making one thing clear, right now. I don’t trust you in this house alone, Catherine. Starting tonight, I’ll be staying here, too.” He turned his back on her, not giving her a chance to object. “What do you say, Abby? Feel like moving in with a movie star, a few ghosts and a psycho?”
“Absolutely.”
“Don’t count me out,” Boone said. “There’s no other place I’d
rather be.”
Chapter Nineteen
The atmosphere in the house shifted from uncomfortable and tense to optimistic. All four bedrooms were occupied, and Boone offered to take the smallest, without furniture, choosing instead to use a newly purchased air mattress. He was the only one looking at this as an adventure, which I secretly loved. His excitement was infectious, and it relaxed me, in spite of all the drama. Abby was determined, while Jason seemed solemn. I didn’t need them to constantly remind me of what was at stake.
Their presence filled me with anxiety. I didn’t trust Catherine. Worse, I was afraid for my friends. Without a doubt, I knew she’d hurt them in order to get what she wanted, and she’d enlist the help of our enemies to do it. I didn’t fully grasp the nature of her relationship with the other entities, or how the three of them were connected, but it scared me. The risk of danger beat into me, a steady rhythm much like a heartbeat. I didn’t rest. Instead, I roamed the halls, weary with the premonition something was going to happen.
I paused outside the door to what had once been my stepsister Suzie’s room and listened to Abby’s deep, even breaths. By the time she returned with her stuff early this morning, she and Boone delayed trying to track down anyone with knowledge of voodoo in favor of sleep and clear heads. She said it hadn’t been difficult convincing her mom to let her stay with me either. Barb had always been so kind, giving me a sense of family when mine treated me terribly. Abby said all she’d had to do was mention how lonely I’d been in the big mansion by myself, dealing with reporters and a high profile romance, and her mom relented, agreeing that us being roommates was a wonderful idea.
Of course, I was positive Abby hadn’t mentioned having two male houseguests.
Jason claimed the room across the hall, which had been Anna’s, and I laid my palm flat to the door. It hurt, having him so close, but struggling with all I’d been forced to witness between him and Catherine. He hadn’t mentioned it again, keeping to himself, locked inside his head. I didn’t want to blame him. I only hoped once I had my life back, those feelings would change.
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