The Misplaced: An Angel Falls Novella - book #3.5 - Ghost Hunting with Chris Abeyta

by Jody A. Kessler

  “Nope,” he says, with his head bent over the strings.

  She brushes a long fingered hand over her scalp, pushing her waist length hair away from her face then tucks loose strands behind her ear.

  She unsettles me with a direct green gaze, shakes her head once and walks out of the room, muttering, “You barely eat anymore, Jared. Are you feeling all right?”

  Jared doesn’t answer, or acknowledge that he even heard.

  I stand motionless. Her reaction was bewildering. Did she see me or not? Most of my assignments ignore me until they absolutely can’t get away with it any longer. The exception are the older ones, sometimes they’re ready for me, sometimes not.

  I’d been frustrated beyond belief with my last case. The multi-car pileup was complete chaos. Broken cars and broken bodies, emergency personnel and bystanders cluttered the scene, but it was my client making me grit my teeth. I secretly called him Mr. Curmudgeon. He kept insisting he didn’t need a doctor and telling me to go away. He refused to believe he’d died and was inconsolable about his wife’s condition. She was injured and dying, and he wouldn’t leave her side. She was not in my charge and I thought she had a ways to go before crossing over. I made every attempt to persuade him to move on, or to take a step back, but his resistance only grew. I ended up letting Marcus, my mentor and friend, take over.

  I don’t know what I would have done without Marcus there. He always knows what to do; in this case it was all about waiting. Mr. Curmudgeon wasn’t going anywhere without his wife, including to the afterlife. I was starting to believe I’d failed at my job; I’d actually lost a client. That’s the worst thing that can happen to one of us. Marcus thought Mrs. Curmudgeon — she wasn’t anything like the husband, her name was Mrs. Miller — would talk some sense into him. Marcus’s non-plan of waiting for the wife was a success. She died sooner than I expected and the husband passed into the next world without even one last snide or gritty remark flung my way. Everyone is unique, I remind myself, including this gorgeous girl.

  I take one last look at Jared. His fingers continue to move with practiced precision over the steel strings. Like most people, he’s unaware of my presence. Turning away from the young guitarist, I feel the pull to stay close to Jules.

  Who is this girl? She looks so young. Close to my own age when I… forget that. What is it about dying young that seems so unjust? The old curmudgeon, Mr. Miller, he had a full life and a wife who loved him. They looked like they were in their late seventies at least, plenty of time to experience some life. How much time does Jules have? It isn’t enough. She doesn’t even look twenty years old. I groan and shake my head to clear it. These assignments can be awful, and depressing. Suck it up, damn it! This is who you are now. You have one thing to do here, put your feelings in a deep dark hole where they belong and get on with it. Do your job Nathaniel. Don’t get over involved.

  I find Jules in the kitchen, the top half of her is missing inside the refrigerator. I lean against the wall. Her spine stiffens for a moment, and then relaxes. Is it a coincidence or does she know I’m near? She backs away from the fridge with a large bowl in one hand and a bottle of salad dressing in the other. She sets them down on the countertop and grabs a bowl and fork from the dish rack by the sink.

  While filling her bowl with some of the salad, the phone on the end of the counter rings.

  “Hello?” She pauses, listening.

  “We’re fine, Mom. Just hanging out. Jared’s upstairs playing his guitar and I’m going for a hike.”

  As she listens with the phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, her hands are busy with the bottle of dressing followed by a pepper grinder.

  “We’re okay, really. Work as long as you need to. I’ll see you tomorrow or sometime. Yes, I promise I’ll be careful.”

  There’s another short silence followed by Jules saying, “I won’t forget to tell him. Bye, Mom, love you too.” She hangs up and reaches for the salt shaker, but doesn’t shake it over her food; she shakes it over her left shoulder then puts it back next to the pepper.

  I keep my distance, standing near the dining table, and let Jules crunch on her salad in peace. Minutes later a loud thump from the direction of the stairs precedes Jared’s entrance to the kitchen. He waggles his eyebrows at Jules, and smiles, looking like he’s just eaten the canary.

  “Jumping off the stairs again?” Jules asks.

  “Pulled a 540,” he answers proudly.

  “Mom’s gonna kill you if you break the floor, or your neck,” Jules says.

  “I didn’t flip,” Jared defends. “Hey, was that Mom on the phone?” he asks. His tone resonates, making him sound even more like a rock star.

  “Yeah, she’s staying at work again. She says, ‘no parties in the house or else risk deportation or disembowelment, your choice.’”

  “Harsh,” he says as one side of his mouth quirks into a grin. “That’s all right. I already have other plans tonight and… you’re coming with me.”

  “Do I have to?” Jules asks with a dubious tone.

  “If you want your little brother to stay sane and alive, you will.”

  She sighs, mulling it over. After chewing a bite of food she says, “If those are my only choices then, where’re you going and who’s driving?”

  It makes her sound like his mother. I also notice her grave attitude seems to be lessening by the minute. She appears more relaxed in the comfy kitchen than she was upstairs. Was it what she’d been writing about, or something else? Me? Hunger? I’ve seen people change from acting like an angry troll to purring like a contented kitty after filling an empty stomach, and she is scarfing down the greens, so maybe she was just hungry. She also hadn’t looked at me a single time in this kitchen.

  “I’m waiting for Caleb to find out the details. But whatever happens tonight, you should hang out with us.”

  She gives him a skeptical look then takes her empty dish to the sink.

  “Don’t worry Jules, it’ll be cool.”

  “Your version of cool isn’t always the same as mine. Hey?” she says to Jared’s back as he opens the sliding glass door.

  “What?”

  “I’m going hiking. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Nah, hiking is for the birds.”

  “I’m going over to Forge Rocks. It won’t take long,” she says trying to tempt him.

  Jared stands in the sunlight on a wood deck behind the house looking back at Jules. “I’m waiting for Caleb and the guys. We want to get some practice time in.”

  Jules grabs a purple bag and slings it over her shoulder then steps outside sliding the door shut behind her. She moves off the deck and then turns to her brother.

  “If you’re still here when I get back I’ll consider going with you, okay? We wouldn’t want you to lose what little sanity you have left by doing something stupid.”

  “Ah, it warms the heart to know you have so much confidence in me,” he teases.

  “We both know it’s true.” She smiles, flashing straight white teeth.

  Her mouth is captivating. Inside the house I’d been struck by her green and gold eyes but outside in the brightness of the day, her soft pink lips are incredible. It’s not just her mouth. She’s striking from head to toe. Mother Nature always finds a way to create perfection, and with Jules, she has done it again.

  I look at Jared, and then back at Jules. She’s about fifty shades paler than he is, but they both glow with life and youth. I stare at her perfect lips and I’m floored by the rush of feelings I have toward her.

  What’s wrong with you, fool? For crying out loud, she’s not even smiling at me. This case is definitely going to be different, probably in all the wrong ways.

  Jared lights a joint and takes a long drag from it, holding in the smoke with a puffed up chest. His dark brows lift and his wide mouth curves into a grin around his marijuana cigarette. Jules shakes her head at him with disapproving good humor and then she turns, heading into the trees.

 
She doesn’t appear to be in any hurry as she brushes aside branches and skirts the underbrush. We emerge on a narrow trail where she turns right, heading north. I keep a moderate distance between us so as not to see her spine stiffen at my presence or hear her tell me to leave again. I can’t leave even if I wanted to. This is my job and I have to stay close now.

  When the time comes, it’s my responsibility to help her leave her body behind and give reassurances that what lies ahead is indeed the right direction. People who can’t let go become haunted souls. They get stuck in transition or lose their ability to reason, sometimes both. As unsettling as this feeling is, to be watching and waiting for this vibrant girl to take that turn for the worst, she’s going to need me to stay around.

  ~ End preview ~

  Available on Amazon

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  More information can be found at JodyAKessler.com

  Available on Amazon

  Select titles can be found at other major eBook distributors.

  ~ Thank you for reading ~

  On the Back Cover

  The Misplaced

  Antisocial ghost hunter and shaman, Chris Abeyta, begins his day with an obnoxious, perky, and mysterious new client. Chris does not do “perky,” especially at four a.m. But the empathic and beguiling, Naomi, taunts him out of bed to discover an energy vortex and a horde of wicked ghosts overrunning his small mountain town.

  Sleep deprived and unenthusiastic, Chris joins Naomi in solving the mystery of the vortex, but a run-in with a couple of misguided thugs while being taunted by an insufferable spirit guide does not improve his morning or his outlook.

  Will Chris’s curmudgeonly ways ruin any romantic prospects with the vivacious and magical, Naomi, or has he finally met his match?