Justine found it ironic that the ghost of a young child was reassuring her, and not the other way around.
"I will not hurt you. I just want to show you." The little girl's sweet, yet solemn, voice touched Justine's heart, but she wasn't sure if her reactions would be considered Spectrum procedure. On the other hand, wouldn't it be great to have this much information on her first solo case?
With her heart pumping rapidly from the adrenaline rush, Justine slowly reached out to touch the small hand. She jumped back, surprisingly startled when her hand simply fell through the air, smacking loudly against her own thigh.
"Silly!" The little girl laughed playfully. "You can't really touch me!" The child smiled up into Justine's confused face. "I just want you to follow me. I want to show you."
As the child started quickly off without another word, Justine had to will herself to follow. She couldn't help but think it was absurd that she could hear her own pounding footsteps but the ghost's were totally silent.
Suddenly, Justine felt like she may have gotten in over her head with this assignment, and maybe even with this job.
Finally after running half the length of the large, empty train station, the girl stopped before a heavy metal door. Breathlessly Justine caught up to her, leaning forward to catch her breath and, for the first time noting how heavy her backpack had become.
When Justine looked into the pale, small face, gone was the innocent mirth dancing in the child's glowing eyes, replaced with a somberness that was uncanny for a young child.
"In there," she pointed at a closed door, her blonde hair blowing with an invisible wind. The child's vivid blue eyes seemed to shine cat-like, holding all of the mysteries of youth and humility, while also knowing the terrors of a demented world that a child should never have to know.
"What is behind that door?" Justine asked, feeling slightly ridiculous asking for direction from a ghost.
"You have to open it. It will not harm you." Justine glanced back and forth between the ghost and the door that surely was hiding something nefarious. Then it finally dawned on her that it had gone completely dark outside with the onset of night, but she could still see clearly because of the bright light emanating from the little girl.
Justine sized up the door which appeared to be sturdier than anything else in the building. The door was a burnt orange color with a turning wheel lock. Taking one last look at the child, Justine stepped up to the door and tried to turn the lock. Only it wouldn't budge and not surprisingly, as upon closer inspection, it appeared to be rusted shut. Putting more force into it, she tried again but it still wouldn't budge. She turned to look at the little girl, as if seeking direction.
Without meeting Justine's glance, the ghost child raised one shaking hand and pointed at the door without actually touching it. The lock groaned for a moment but then suddenly began to rotate rapidly until the click of the mechanism could be heard echoing like a gun shot through the empty train station.
Justine took a moment to take stock of the situation, attempting to keep her panic at bay. Most normal people, sane people, would have run out by now. However, here she was talking to a ghost that she couldn't physically touch, but who could unlock doors without touching them.
Nervously, Justine ran her hands over her hair and down her tight pony tail before looking at the child one last time.
"Go." There was an earnest almost desperate quality in the girl's voice now, and a sadness that was both compelling and staggering with its depth.
Justine took a deep breath and grabbed the large wheel lock. To her surprise the door easily and noiselessly yawned open. Unlike the lit hallway of the train station, the small chamber, which was the best word Justine could think of to describe it, was totally dark. It had a stagnant, stale smell to it that was strong but not overwhelming. She grabbed her large Mag flashlight from the side pocket of her backpack, but hesitated before turning on the beam.
When she finally found the resolve to turn on the flashlight, Justine was surprised to see that the room appeared to be empty. Puzzled, she turned to look at the young girl, thinking maybe the child was playing a prank on her, as she had learned many ghosts are known to do.
The child appeared to read Justine's thoughts when she said, "You have to go into the room, it's the coal supply closet. Inside is a small cubby hole meant for a shovel. Find it."
Justine felt herself growing frustrated at the absurdity of the situation, but she sensed her “red light”, or her “instinct detector” (as she referred to it) flashing and urging her that there was indeed something there worth discovering. Gingerly, she stepped into the small chamber. Like the rest of the building it was dusty and full of cobwebs--and who knew what else, Justine thought grimly to herself.
Staying close to the door, prepared for a quick retreat, Justine shined the light around the room until she saw a hole that was about two feet wide in diameter. She felt a heavy doom weigh down her heart as she slowly advanced towards it, somehow knowing that the truth it held would be alarming.
She had to kneel down to shine the light directly into the opening and felt both rewarded but terrified when the light bounced off of something shoved fairly far back into the hole. In an effort to maintain some sort of rationality, she gingerly tapped around the edge of the hole with the heavy flashlight, trying to avoid being bitten by anything that claimed the cubby hole as its home. After the sound of metal on metal resonated, and then faded, the room was once again reassuringly silent. Justine paused for a moment, shined the light directly into the hole and was satisfied when nothing alive and menacing had appeared.
Justine's mouth filled up with saliva and the strong taste of copper as she poked then her head into the hole with the flashlight held right under her chin. She noticed something white and long in the hole. Thinking quickly Justine, reached into her backpack and ripped off a sheet of paper from her note pad. Cupping the paper in her hand, she reached into the hole and grabbed the object carefully, fearfully pulling it closer.
Her eyes grew large, and even though she had never fainted in her life, Justine was afraid she was about to do just that. She felt the perspiration collecting on her forehead and had to pause to consciously keep her breathing level. She gulped back her fear and shined the light on the object again, already knowing what it would be once she could see it up close.
A long, white human bone had rested in the small hole, and was now in her hand. Shining the light further into the hole, Justine saw that the bone was not alone, there was also a small skull and several other scattered bones in varying sizes. Although she was not an expert in Forensics, she guessed the bones belonged to a small child.
Abruptly jerking her arm out of the hole, Justine turned to the little girl, wanting to confirm her most dreaded thoughts. A new kind of fear welled up within Justine's heart when she realized that she was now alone, and the little girl-along with her abundant light-was nowhere to be seen.
Losing what little of her courage that had remained, Justine slid to the floor, her knees limp like cooked spaghetti. She put her face in her hands, as the tears and sorrow overwhelmed her.
Uncertain of how many minutes she had sat there and cried, Justine knew, as a trained professional, she had to regain control of the situation. She stood up on rubbery legs and looked back into the hole. She then pointed her camera into the opening, taking pictures from the few different angles she could manage in the small space it allowed.
Justine walked out of the chamber and breathed in deeply, needing the open oxygen to steady her mind and trembling hands. Her attention was immediately drawn to the far wall from the door, where Justine saw what appeared to be words that glowed as if being displayed in neon lights. But the glow was more like the shock blue of open electricity. She was certain the words had been put there for her benefit. There were three words that simply spelled, “Madeleine La Rue.”
The little girl's name, Justine was almost certain of it. Thinking quickly, she pulled the digital camer
a back out of her backpack and took a picture of it. She glanced into the small view finder after she had snapped the photo, nearly praying that the camera had been able to pick up the spectral words. They were there, as clear as sunshine, giving Justine the little boost of encouragement that she needed!
Without any independent direction of how to proceed at this point, Justine pulled out her cell phone and dialed the after hours number for Spectrum, that Conroy had given her to use in case of emergency. Thankfully, she had made herself memorize the number.
While she listened to the phone ring and waited impatiently for someone to pick up, Justine took a glance at her watch and was shocked to realize that it was already 7:30.
Spectrum's after hours answering service finally picked up. Justine was asked her name and was told the message would immediately be relayed to Conroy. In frustration, Justine clicked off the phone and stomped out her impatience. The sound of her feet echoed off the rafters bringing them to life with noise which in turn, startled her even further.
Anxious to get out of the building, Justine slung her backpack onto her shoulder and quickly walked back toward the exit of the train station. The broad archway of the entrance couldn't have been a more welcoming site as Justine approached it. When she stepped out into the night air, she noticed that it had finally gotten cooler outside. Usually the heavy night sounds of the south, a chorus of insects and frogs, were comforting to Justine, but suddenly she couldn't decide which was more frightening: the chamber of terror inside the abandoned train station? Or the dark, empty night?
The ringing of Justine's cell phone sent her jumping, startling her in the oppressive blackness.
Conroy's voice was surly, as if he'd been interrupted from something important. He had found through years of experience that often his brand new Parapsychologist Investigators had called him on their first solo investigation, purely out of being
overwhelmed by fear.
"Justine, what seems to be the problem?"
Taking a deep breath, Justine tried to settle her nerves so she could speak calmly, or at least sound that way.
"Sir, I did find a positive ghost." She paused, uncertain of how to word it. "I also found human bones."
Justine could hear the sharp intake of Conroy's breath.
"You found bones? Are you sure they are human?" His voice sounded both alarmed and amazed as well.
"Yes, sir, I am sure." She proceeded to give him an account of her evening along with her findings.
Twenty minutes later a very hurried Conroy arrived at the depot, flushed with agitation. When his eyes met Justine's own large frightened ones, he instantly felt a warm kindness for her. He quickly hurried over to her.
"Are you okay, Justine?" His voice was full of concern and compassion.
Justine swallowed back a lump in her throat.
"Yes, I am now anyway." Conroy gently patted her back and walked her over to a small stoop where they could both sit.
"I've notified the Sheriff's Office, they said they would be on scene right away. They will need to take a statement from you. I know that you're frightened and a bit shaken, but I do expect you to act in a professional manner." Although his words seemed harsh, his voice was not.
For several minutes the two of them sat silently, Conroy smoking on his fragrant pipe while Justine stared out past the large, empty field overgrown with grass and litter from the surrounding neighborhood. She forced herself to remain calm and relaxed. Both of them stood up too quickly, revealing their impatience when they saw a pair of headlights slowly heading their way.
Conroy placed his hand on Justine's shoulder encouragingly,
"Let me explain everything to them first, and then you can give your statement and go home." Justine simply nodded silently, feeling out of sorts with the situation.
The patrol car finally rolled up, the tires loudly crunching on small gravel stones beneath them. Once parked, the officer took his time getting out of the patrol car, making Justine wonder if he was just going to remain in it. Conroy stood, waiting patiently, having dealt with the local law enforcement often in the past.
Finally the tall officer, who Conroy knew as James Wilcox, got out of the cruiser, placing his hat on his head as he slowly walked toward Justine and Conroy, his thumbs tucked into the belt loops of his pants.
"Mr. Pekins," he finally said with a reluctant tug at his hat. His eyes swept over Justine with an avid interest.
"Officer Wilcox, this is one of my P.I.'s, Justine Ramsey." Wilcox simply nodded at Justine before turning his attention back to Conroy.
"You say you found some bones? Human remains?" Wilcox asked suspiciously.
"Yes, Justine did." Conroy focused on Wilcox confidently, almost challengingly. Justine could feel strong tension between the two men and wondered silently about it.
"You're sure they're human?" Wilcox asked, barely sparing a glance at Justine.
"Yes, sir, I'm pretty sure." Her voice was controlled and Conroy liked that. Wilcox jerked his head in a smug nod while sizing Justine up again. The look on his face clearly indicated that he thought the funny farm might be the proper place for her.
"They're probably just dog bones or something." the officer chuckled sarcastically. "Conroy, I hope for your sake, that they are human because we have an entire Crime Scene Unit team on its way."
"Well, Officer Wilcox, I figure it's there job to make sure of it." Conroy stood his ground against the sneering cop, purposely not returning the sneer but smiling boldly instead.
Wilcox slowly walked closer to the arch way of the train station and leaned forward sticking only the upper half of his body across the threshold. Justine couldn't help but wonder if the gesture was meant to be sarcastic or if even he was afraid of the possibility of seeing a ghost. Not that he would ever admit to it, she thought.
"Find any ghosts?" His eyes lit up with amusement before his arrogant scowl returned. Justine had been warned to expect to find this type of ignorant skeptism from many people, and even while acknowledging that, she couldn't help keep her anger from rising.
Feeling put out, she stood straight up, and said,
"Yes, I did, and I believe the bones probably belong to her." Justine knew that her voice shook with both anger and residual fear, but at the moment she didn't care, she just wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.
"A girl ghost, eh?" Wilcox chuckled, before sauntering back over to his patrol car to wait.
The CSU team finally arrived and immediately created a whirl of activity the train station hadn't been privy to in many years. A kind-eyed female officer asked Justine to sit in her car with her while she took Justine's statement.
While the officer jotted down notes, Justine recounted her story about the bones in the coal chamber. The officer finally spoke,
"Did you touch the bones?" Her eyes were earnest.
"No, I used a piece of paper to pull them closer to me, I didn't know what they would be."
"Huh." The officer said, thinking to herself that the girl had brains as well as grit, while she jotted down another note. Justine took a deep breath, bracing herself for the blast of laughter that she was sure she would receive when she mentioned the name that had appeared in lights.
"There is one other thing that I think you should know." Her eyes were eager with seriousness, as she met the other woman’s gaze.
"Anything you can tell us may be of help," The officer softly assured her.
"This is going to sound nuts, I know, but after I found the bones and left the chamber, a name appeared on the wall directly in front of me. . . Madeleine La Rue. I think that may be the name of the girl whose bones are there." Justine stumbled over her words, feeling both awkward and unconvincing.
"The name was written on the wall? Like spay painted or something? You're sure it wasn't there before you went into the chamber?" The officer's eyes had finally grown a bit suspicious, just as Justine had assumed they would from the start.
"That name couldn't have b
een there before I went in." She paused, collecting herself again before she proceeded.
"It was written on the wall in lights, like a neon sign sort of, blue electricity." Justine quickly glanced down at her hands that were folded together in her lap, feeling inept with her explanation.
"In lights?" The officer stared at her
incredulously, but there was an underlying thrill of curiosity in her voice.
"Yes I'm sorry, I know that it doesn't make sense, but that's the best way that I can describe it." Justine paused, considered for a moment and pushed herself to add, "I do have a picture of it on my digital camera. Would you like to see it?"
The officer glanced at Justine. Suddenly she appeared to be as nervous as Justine felt. She bit her lip self consciously, and glanced around before replying
"Yes, I would actually."
Justine eagerly pulled out the digital camera and found the picture quickly since it was the last one that she had taken. She offered the camera to the officer who hesitated for just an instant before grabbing it.
Shaking her head, the officer stared into the camera in amazement, wondering if this was a hoax, but all the while deeply feeling that it was not and asked,
"What is that name again?" She asked, squinting at the small image.
"Madeleine La Rue," Justine replied evenly. A bit of her confidence had come back to her voice, She was happy to notice that.
"Would you like a copy of the photo? I can email it to you."
Officer O'Connell paused, wanting to say yes, but imagining the razzing she would get from her fellow officers if she even brought it up.
"No, thanks, what you have shown me is proof enough."
Justine nodded silently, almost sadly realizing that O'Connell must have a pretty tough job working in a male dominated field.
Journey of Souls (The Mortality Series) Page 2