“You’re upsetting him! You can ask me that stuff; don’t hassle him!” Thea’s unwanted voice hisses in my ear, and I flinch. I haven’t seen her since this morning. I prayed I wouldn’t have to see her again.
“You’re. Not. Real,” I hiss back quietly.
I stare at Flynn, but he doesn’t appear to have heard either of our exchanges. I might have been quiet, but Thea wasn’t. So she is definitely in my mind.
“I am freaking real! Fine, ask him about The Goonies! Ask him if just last week I promised to make him homemade pumpkin bread. Ask him, Detective!”
I ground my teeth, another headache building. With my luck, I will be entering into a full-blown migraine soon.
“Mr. Bell?” I call out to Flynn, aware that I have again lost his attention.
“Sorry, I can’t stop … I should have been there. I shouldn’t have … I mean, all over the news, they’re talking about that serial killer. I should never have left her alone. What type of brother am I?”
“Your sister wasn’t a victim of the serial killer. Her murder … It wasn’t the same,” I quickly explain.
The serial killer is not my investigation, and as much as I wish I wasn’t stuck working Thea Bell’s murder case, I’m relieved she isn’t another victim of his. He’s already racking up a disgustingly high number, and I wouldn’t wish anyone to be one of his victims. He is one of the most brutal and consistent serial killers we have ever seen.
“But all I’ve been hearing about is those murders—how young women are being targeted—and I still left her alone. I should have stayed with her until it was all over. I should have been there. If I was, then maybe she would still be here. I let her down.” Tears finally do fall down his face now, his shaking increasing.
“Oh, Flynn, it isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Thea sits next to him, her hand moving through his body when she tries to pat his back. It’s weird to see, and I get lost for a moment watching the exchange.
“Are you seriously just going to sit there looking like a moron? Comfort him! Tell him it isn’t his fault! Say something!” she shrieks furiously at me.
I jump in surprise at her outburst, my attention moving away from her. I want to yell at her to shut up and leave me alone, but since I’m the only one who can see her, I doubt Flynn will take that very well.
“Listen, kid, none of this is your fault. What happened to your sister … Well, right now, I’m working under the assumption that this was probably someone in her life, someone who went into her house with a plan. Chances are, you being there wouldn’t have changed the outcome, not in the long run. So there is no point feeling guilty.”
“Someone with a plan? You mean someone planned to do that to me?” she cries, her panicked eyes trying to burn a hole through me as I refuse to look directly at her. Could interacting with my delusion make it stronger?
“Who would do that? Thea is loved by everyone. Her kids love her, their parents are the same, and she is the sweetest person I know. She doesn’t have enemies like that.” Flynn shakes his head in denial of my words. I notice he is referring to her as though she’s still here. It’s understandable—it’s still early—but I find it harder to talk to people when they are grieving too heavily. If he can’t accept the loss, his mind is too scattered to recall things properly. Details get missed, and it can delay a case.
“There wasn’t anyone she was having problems with? She never mentioned to you a pushy teacher or an ex who gave her any issues?”
“Ex? You mean Nate?” His eyes narrow, a flash of anger moving across his face. His body tenses, and the shaking briefly stops altogether.
“Nate is an ex of Thea’s?” I ask slowly, making sure to take note of every word Flynn speaks, hoping for some useful information.
“Yeah, they dated for a couple of years. He was … I hated that asshole. He didn’t treat Thea right. He laid on the charm pretty thick when I was around, but I knew something wasn’t right. She never exactly told me what happened, but sometimes, she would call me up, and I knew she’d been crying. After they broke up, she was immediately better. She got back to how she was before he was around—quick to laugh and always smiling. She was happier without him in her life.”
“How long ago was this break up?”
“I think a few months ago, just after Christmas. I told her my plans to come back here, and I think she knew she couldn’t fake being happy in front of me when I was living here. Do you think he could have done this to her?” His voice hardens.
I notice Thea clenching her fists next to him.
“Has she mentioned hearing from this Nate recently? Did she mention any issues with him after the breakup?”
Flynn shakes his head. “Nate is a lot of things, but I never thought he would ki—” Flynn chokes on the word, unable to finish.
I let the silence hang in the air, a niggling feeling nagging me. Didn’t Thea mention her ex-boyfriend, Nate, this morning to me? How did my imaginary Thea know that? This is the first I’m hearing about her ex from a living person, so how did my mind get that name right if she isn’t real?
“I need to ask you a bit of a weird question. What is your favorite movie?” I need an answer to end this once and for all.
As Thea’s head shoots up, I try not to notice the hope that shines in her eyes.
“Why? What does that have to do with Thea?”
“Just humor me, please?”
Flynn stares at me for a while, confused, but he eventually answers.
“I’ve always loved The Goonies. Thea and I would watch it together all the time. Not sure if I can stand to see it again now, though.”
I lock my jaw, refusing to sit with my mouth open in shock, knowing how strange I would look to Flynn.
How can this be happening? Thea is real? I’m not crazy? I really am seeing a ghost?
I stare at Thea, her eyes staring straight back, and there is a moment that passes between us where we both acknowledge silently that this is real. I believe her, and she knows I do.
It doesn’t change how crazy I feel. Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? What if this keeps happening?
“Is that all you needed to ask me?” Flynn interrupts my freak out.
I shake myself out of my shock and back to the situation at hand.
“Is there anything else you can think of that might be useful to me about Thea? Have you noticed anything strange or unusual? Have you seen anyone following Thea? Any cars that kept showing up when you were with her?”
He shakes his head, the guilt back in his eyes. Nothing I say will probably ever erase it, no matter how irrational it is.
Staring at the still untouched coffee in his hands, he speaks quietly. “I don’t know how I’m going to … I don’t think I can do this without her. She’s always been here for me. She’s my big sister, but she’s my best friend, too. It’s always been the two of us. How am I…? How can I do this without her?”
I sigh, too often hearing words similar from grieving family members and friends. There is never a correct response, either.
Thea is sobbing next to him, her hands unable to make contact with her brother, neither of them allowed the comfort of each other’s touch.
“Is there anyone who can stay with you? Any other relatives? Any friends who can help?” I glance around the bare house again, noticing not only the lack of personal touch, but the fact that Flynn is alone.
“It was just Thea and me, no one else. My friends are back in New York. I grew up around here, so there might be some friends from high school who still live in the area, but I haven’t spoken to most of them in years.”
I feel bad for the kid. This is hard enough to go through, let alone having to do it alone.
“Did someone speak to you last night about talking to a counselor? If not, I can get you the name of someone. People usually find talking about it can help ease the pain.”
“That is your advice? That’s so heartless! Tell him to c
all his friends in New York. They’ll come if he tells them what has happened. Tell him he will survive this, and he can do this. Tell him he is strong, brave, and smart. He has a bright future, and there is no way he should let this throw him off course. He will get through this. Tell him!” Thea pleads with me. Thankfully, when she storms over to me and attempts to slap my arm, her hand doesn’t make contact. That appears to piss her off further.
“I can’t talk to a stranger about this. They don’t know her; how would they understand?” He shrugs. “Just find out who did this to her. That’s what I need. I want to know why Thea, why he took her away from me. Why he would harm someone who was so good, so selfless.”
“I will catch this bastard,” I promise.
I stand, tipping the entire mug of cold coffee down my throat and forcing myself to swallow. Then I take the empty mug into the kitchen, leaving it in the sink, and notice the photos covering the fridge of Flynn and Thea. It is the first sign of something personal I have seen in the house.
The photos range in ages from when they were kids to a photo of them next to a sold sign that is obviously very recent. They appear happy, and it’s easy to see how much they meant to each other. This is going to be hard on the kid.
I walk towards the front door with Flynn slowly following me.
“I know this isn’t my place to say, and take my words or ignore them how you want, but I suggest you speak to someone else about what has happened and what you’re going through. If not a counselor, then pick up the phone and reconnect with your friends. Keeping this bottled up won’t help.” I pause, seeing how Flynn reacts to my words. While he doesn’t acknowledge me, he also doesn’t appear angry with what I have said to him. “I’ll keep you informed on how the investigation is going. If you think of anything else that might be useful, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
Flynn nods, his body no doubt moving on autopilot as he follows me towards the front door again.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
I listen to the door closing behind me as I make my way to my car and hear the click of a lock.
“That’s it? You’re going to leave him alone to grieve? Can’t you tell him that I’m here? Tell him you can see me,” Thea pleads, her hand pulling at my arm before I shake her off.
“He’s a grown man. It is not my job to babysit him.”
“He’s practically still a kid! My kid brother who is devastated and dealing with way too much right now! He needs me,” she cries.
I open my car door, frustrated when I see her get into the passenger side. Is anyone watching us right now? Do they see the car door opening like I do?
“He will be fine. Right now, I have more important things to be doing.”
“Like what? Are you actually going to interview me? Are you going to get a move on with my murder investigation?” she sarcastically snaps, my earlier comment about not getting to her case until next week obviously one that stung.
I hold in my angry retort, aware I probably deserve some of her attitude. I did purposely antagonize her earlier; however, I also never imagined she could actually be real.
I know it’s irrational and probably unfair, but I can’t help feeling like this is Thea’s fault. She said she wanted to come back as a ghost, and now I have to deal with her. I’m questioning my sanity, and for what? So she can drive me mad? So far, she’s only been angry with me and upset. I want her gone, although part of me realizes she was just murdered yesterday, and I should probably give her some slack. Still, a bigger part of me is angry at her and the situation she’s put both of us in.
She is the one who started this, and she is the voice in my head that won’t shut up.
“No, I think I have something more important to do. I’m going to visit my grandma. So shut up. And I’d really appreciate if you could get the hell out of my car and life.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Thea
His grandma.
We are seeing his freaking grandma when he’s one day into investigating my murder. Is he for real? Is this how all police act? Is this what they spend their time doing? He’s not really going to take me to see his grandma on a Tuesday afternoon, right?
I’m mostly too angry and upset to say much as he drives us to visit his grandma. Part of me wonders if he is messing with me. Then we pull up to a small house, appearing to have been built in the previous century, and I fear we actually are.
The house looks old and worn, though I will admit it also looks loved. The garden at the front has been maintained, the front steps recently swept, given the lack of dead leaves resting there even though a tree overhangs the front steps, and the porch has several plants that are alive and healthy. The mat on the front stoop says to leave your frown at the door.
“Is this seriously where your gr—?”
“Aiden! What a pleasant surprise. Is everything okay? Is your mother okay? Max?” Mercer’s grandma holds her hands over her chest, and I know a panic attack is imminent.
“Everyone is fine. I just wanted to have a quick chat if that’s all right?” Mercer assures her, reaching for the screen door and then frowning as he opens it. “Why is this unlocked?” He sounds angry, so I slap his arm again.
“Don’t speak to her like that. Can’t you see she’s still recovering?” I snap at him, moving past him when he has the door open enough. I shiver when I move through his grandma. Now that was freaky.
“I … I’m not sure. Are you positive everything is okay? You never pop in like this.”
“I just missed you. I’m sorry I gave you a scare. Everything is okay, I promise,” he says gently to her, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. His grandma holds him there, her eyes first assessing his face before she lets him stand straight again, evaluating the rest of him.
“You’ve lost weight. How much are you eating?”
He rolls his eyes in response to her concern, stepping farther into the hallway. He only stops to turn and lock the front door, staring at her pointedly before leading her down to the living room.
She plants herself in a comfy looking chair, and from the scattered objects surrounding it—the remote control, wireless phone, pillow and blanket—I assume she always sits there. I move onto the couch next to her chair, wondering why on earth Mercer has brought us here.
“I eat fine,” he finally tells her, staring around the room and missing her roll of the eyes at his answer.
“Please do me a favor, dear, and make me a cup of tea.” She smiles sweetly at Mercer.
“Of course, Grandma.” He stands, moving into the kitchen. Apparently, he can’t resist her smile and request. Too bad I can’t communicate with her to ask her to make Mercer properly work on my case.
“While you’re there, I’ve got a spare sandwich in the fridge. You can take that to eat, and grab the crackers and dip for yourself, too,” she shouts after him, a smug smile over her lips, but Mercer has left the room, so he misses that, as well.
“Grandma, I’m not here to raid your fridge.” He pokes his head around the corner to stare pointedly at her.
“With you looking so slim, I think you should. Now, if you had a woman in your life, she would be able to feed you properly.”
Mercer groans, quickly disappearing again. I get the feeling he’s probably had this conversation before.
“And then I would have great-grandchildren to help keep me young. It’s not normal for a man your age to still be playing the field. In my day and age, you would have been married with children by now.”
“Grandma, I’m only thirty, and this isn’t your day and age anymore. It’s mine, and we do things differently now,” he says on a sigh as he enters the room with a cup of tea for his grandmother. As he places it in her outstretched hands, he sits down next to her.
“Like you could find a woman to put up with you,” I mutter snidely, just as his grandma says, “You make it impossible for any woman to put up with you.”
I smile, liking her instantly, as Mercer choose
s to glare at me.
“I don’t have any problems in the women department!”
“I never said that, dear. I said you make it impossible for women to put up with you, as in long term. You are married to that job of yours, and unfortunately, being a detective won’t give me great-grandchildren. Now, what did you really want to chat about? I don’t have all day. Jeopardy will be on soon.”
Mercer takes several deep breaths. For some reason, I just want to rile him up some more. He’s pissed me off, and I can’t believe he’s taking a trip to visit his grandma—cute or not—when he has done barely any investigating on my case. I mean, shouldn’t he at least be talking to my neighbors in case they saw something? Or running fingerprints? Or checking over the DNA or whatever it is those people were collecting at my house yesterday?
“You saw Grandpa after he passed away, didn’t you? You told me that once when I was a kid.”
His question stops my inner tirade. I lean closer to listen, suddenly feeling interested.
She appears surprised by his question, but she doesn’t question his need to ask it.
“I did. He came to me and said goodbye.” She smiles wistfully
“How long did he hang around? Was saying goodbye all you had to do to get rid of him?”
“Hey! Watch it,” I growl, hitting him over the shoulder. His body actually sways from my attack, and I almost think I can feel the heat from his eyes as though his glare is burning me.
There is no way I am going anywhere until I know Flynn is going to be okay!
“What is this about, dear?”
“I know this sounds crazy, but I’m seeing someone who is dead,” he blurts out.
Okay, I’ll admit it does sound pretty crazy when said out loud. How would Flynn react to those words?
“Really?” she gasps, leaning forward. “Who are you seeing?”
“It’s a woman, just a victim on a case I’m working.”
Haunted Love Page 5