Haunted Love

by Jessica Frances

  “Great. I’ll be there in a second.” He disappears up the stairs.

  As soon as he is out of sight, I give myself a quick slap across the face and sternly tell myself to get it together.

  I stare down at his plate, realizing I have served him twice as much as I usually do. Why did I cook so much?

  When he finally returns, he’s changed and freshly showered. I hold my breath when his scent overwhelms me, and my body actually sways in his direction.

  “This is a lot of food.” His eyes have widened, staring at the plate, but he doesn’t refuse it. Picking up the fork I laid out for him, he digs into the eggs first, picking up strips of bacon with his fingers to place into his mouth, too.

  “So good,” he mutters through a mouthful, and I find it adorable when some sauce drips down his chin.

  Without forethought, I lean down and wipe it with my thumb and then freeze in shock over the slightly intimate act. He pauses briefly, too, but then merely smiles sheepishly before continuing to dig in.

  I wipe my hand on a napkin then try to keep myself busy in the kitchen as I clean up and make a mental note of what groceries we need for the next shopping trip. If I’m going to use cooking as a way to avoid Aiden in the future and try to take my mind off him, we are going to need a lot of ingredients.

  “So, today I want to go visit some places you’ve been to see if anything can jog your memory.”

  I finally turn back to face him and see he’s almost finished the plate of food.

  “Which places?”

  “I want to go to your school and home, but also anywhere else you might have gone recently. That park you wrote down, maybe the mall you said you occasionally went to, the gym.”

  I nod and my thoughts finally shift from Aiden towards the day ahead of me. How am I going to face seeing all those places when I know they might have been where I met my murderer? Did I pick the wrong gym? Should I have gone somewhere else to buy Flynn’s birthday present? Did the peaceful and relaxing walks along the path at the park lead me into the clutches of a killer?

  What’s more, how am I supposed to go back to my school and see my classroom, kids, and colleagues when I know I’ll never be able talk to them again? Never have another normal day with my kids and at my school like I did just a week ago?

  “Thea, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just a bit nervous to see everything I won’t get to experience alive again.”

  He frowns. “I’m sorry to make you do this, but I’m running out of ideas. If we can’t find a lead, I’m at a loss for what to do. Forensics hasn’t found anything, there was no useful evidence from your autopsy, and the Hargrove lead has fallen through. No witnesses have come forward, and every day we work on this, the leads get colder.”

  I watch his carefree expression from earlier disappear and frustration take its place. He’s annoyed at himself. However, is it because he’s afraid he’s letting me down and a murderer go free, or is it because every day he doesn’t solve my case is another day he has to put up with me? Either way, I feel bad seeing him being so hard on himself and have the need to make him feel better.

  “I know you’re only doing your job, but your determination to find my murderer is appreciated. I see you want this guy caught as much as I do. I don’t blame you that we’re not further along, and I’m not complaining about where we’ll be going today, either. I just don’t know how to feel seeing places that used to mean so much to me and knowing I’ll never be part of them again.”

  As tears blur my vision, I blink and feel them creeping down my face. I don’t hear Aiden standing yet watch the blob of his body cross over me. He places his now empty plate into the sink next to me, and then, just as I expect him to step away, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a hug.

  “You might not be able to create new memories with people in those places, but you’ll never be erased from the ones you’ve already shared there. Your work friends, your students, your brother, they all share those memories with you. You won’t be forgotten, and you will always live on in those places.”

  I allow myself to forget that I’m supposed to be creating distance between us and let him comfort me, instead.

  I need it.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, finding his words as much a comfort to me as the arms wrapped around me.

  ***

  The day isn’t as hard as I expected, although we’re about to enter one of the hardest places for me.

  So far, we’ve visited my gym, where hilariously, Aiden was hit on by the incredibly hot muscle builder named Jeff. After an embarrassed Aiden had to turn him down, he glared at me and muttered about his revenge. I may have been aware that Jeff hits on everybody who talks to him when I directed Aiden his way.

  We then went to the mall, where I insisted he buy his mom a bottle of wine to take to dinner tomorrow night. It was then my turn to feel embarrassed because Aiden decided to buy me some clothes. I’m still in his clothing from the night before, since I never took the washing out of the machine last night. Even though it does feel a little weird to be out in public wearing such ill-fitting clothing, I’m not self-conscious given that Aiden is the only person who can see me.

  When I suggest to him that he simply take some of my clothes from my house when we go there later, he tells me he can’t. For one thing, it would look weird and a little creepy for Aiden to take my clothing to his home, especially on the underwear and bra front, but also, he isn’t allowed to just remove items from my house, not if they don’t pertain to the case.

  As a result, now Aiden has brand new jeans, a couple T-shirts, some sweatpants that fit me, and a new sweater in the backseat of his car. I’m not going to think about the underwear and bra sets he picked out for me.

  I have never had a man buy me clothing before, and for some reason, it feels ridiculously intimate. I can’t even pay him back. However, I forget my embarrassment and unease as I stare up at the building that is as familiar to me as my own home.

  I loved coming to my school every day and feel deeply saddened that I won’t ever teach here again. I won’t get to see my students excel in their classes and watch them grow. I won’t be able to follow the ones who have already passed my grade, and I won’t ever teach new students.

  I loved teaching. It made me feel happy, fulfilled, and like I was making a difference. I definitely had the odd student or parent who gave me a little trouble, but it always passed quickly. Mostly, I loved everyone I came into contact with.

  Even my colleagues and the principal were all nice to work with. There were no power plays or problems with slacking off. Everyone always put in a hundred percent, and we often had get-togethers through the summer to keep in touch.

  I can’t believe I’m not ever going to see any of them again.

  Why did this have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve to have my life taken away so young?

  I half expected to see the parking lot full with students milling about; however, I slowly realize it is Saturday.

  Hesitantly stepping out of the car, I follow Aiden as he moves into the building. The place is locked up, but we have a security guard who patrols on weekends, and after Aiden shows him his badge, he lets us in.

  While Aiden walks leisurely down the halls, I see bright colors that are out of place by my classroom. I know Aiden is speaking to me, asking me questions, I think, but I’m not paying any attention to him.

  My feet race me towards the sight, my mind not consciously deciding to head that way. I think I know what I’m about to see, and I also know it is going to break my heart.

  My sudden movement attracts Aiden. As I reach my destination, I feel him move next to me. I crouch down and look at the pile of flowers and handmade cards covering the side of my classroom. There are easily over a hundred different bunches of beautiful flowers.

  I pick up each and every card, reading them all while silently sobbing. Most are from students, current and past. They all say how much they loved m
e as a teacher, how sad they are over my passing, and they will miss me.

  Occasionally, I feel Aiden leaning over, reading their words, but he doesn’t say anything to me. He lets me have my time here, which I’m grateful for. It takes ages to go through them all, but I’m unbelievably touched by the gesture and by how many lives I have touched.

  Once I place the last card down, I only stare at the mass of love I see in front of me. My heart weighs down heavily in my chest, and I don’t even react when I feel Aiden’s arm come around my back as he grips my hip, leaning me into his side. He holds me up, and it’s then I realize I was about to collapse.

  “You were very loved here, Thea,” he says quietly.

  “I can’t believe I won’t ever … It’s not fair. Why did my life have to be cut short? Why did this happen to me?”

  “I don’t know, but I won’t stop until I find out,” he promises, his hand grasping my hip a little tighter before his grip loosens. “Let’s keep moving.”

  I don’t really want to leave, feeling connected to the area the teachers and students have set up to mourn me. I want to stay here, wallow in their kind words as well as the flowers and gifts they have left me. It equally breaks my heart and warms me. However, I let Aiden lead me away while answering every question he fires at me.

  I try to think past my grief and recall any incidents that happened at the school. I think of every encounter with parents and other teachers I had. I consider any low grades I have handed out—which, I point out, at third grade is really a non-issue—and if I have noticed anyone hanging around me or the school in the past couple of months.

  I come up empty, feeling even worse as I watch disappointment flitter over Aiden’s face before he hides it.

  After that, we leave the school behind and make the short drive to my house.

  I feel hesitant as we pull up to the curb. There is a seal over the door that Aiden cuts through with a pocket knife, and my front garden has been squashed from the trampling feet of many careless women and men.

  I don’t know if I’m merely attempting to distract myself from what is going to happen when I step through my house or if I really am upset over the flowers, but seeing the flattened garden brings tears to my eyes.

  “Ready?” Aiden sounds hesitant.

  I’m sure he’s worried he is going to have a blubbering mess on his hands. I need to pull myself together. Maybe, if I can give Aiden a lead, if I can remember something important, he will be more interested in letting me see Flynn.

  I nod, clearing my throat as I take a step up to my front door. I can’t help staring at the back of the door when he closes it, my mind remembering the fear and terror I felt as I was shoved against it, my only exit locked and out of reach.

  “I tried to get away. I ran to the door, but he was right behind me. I didn’t have time to unlock the door before he got to me. It’s the last solid thing I remember. Everything that came after is a blur.”

  “What about before that. Where were you coming from?”

  “I was in the kitchen. I was putting away my groceries.”

  “Show me.”

  I raise my eyebrow at him, ready to question why that would be important, but I hold it in.

  I walk into my kitchen, my eyes straying to the photos on my fridge and the groceries left on the bench. All the fresh food will be ruined now.

  “What happens to the house if my murder isn’t solved? Does this just remain a crime scene?”

  “No, it’ll be released back to you soon. Well, whoever you designated in your will to inherit it. Flynn, right?”

  “Yes. So, he’ll have to go through all of this.” I hate how much of a burden that is going to be for him, how hard it will be to have to do that alone.

  “So, you were putting groceries away, and you saw something?”

  I shake myself out of my sad thoughts and into the terrifying ones I don’t really want to relive.

  “Yes. I saw a flash of something out of the corner of my eye, heard a noise, and I realized someone was in the house with me. I thought at first it might have been Flynn, but he would have called out. He would have known I would be scared hearing noises and not knowing he was there.”

  “Where did you see the flash of him? Which direction?”

  I think back, recalling I was standing by the fridge.

  “Over there.” I point towards my dining room.

  “So, where was he coming from?” Aiden asks quietly, most likely to himself.

  He walks into my dining room where the living room connects. I’m usually a clean freak, but right now, my living room is in shambles. I haven’t stepped foot in it for a couple of months because I haven’t been able to face the mess and what needs to be done. Now, it will be another job for Flynn to have to face.

  Aiden stares at the piles of boxes covering most of the floor and then walks around the corner, finding a spare bathroom and the back door leading outside to my small yard.

  “I don’t understand why he was in here. He broke in from the front window, and there was no trace of him at all through here. Why was he waiting for you in this room?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug.

  “What is all this stuff? I thought you moved into here a while ago?”

  “I did. These are all my dad’s things.”

  “You keep all his things in the living room?” Aiden raises his eyebrow at me.

  “Well, yeah, currently. My grandpa passed away recently, and he had been paying for a storage unit that belonged to my dad. It went up for auction; you know how they get people to buy the contents without you really knowing what is in there? Well, my grandpa’s neighbor heard about it, and he called me as the auction started and asked if I wanted the stuff. I wasn’t really sure what it all was, but if it belonged to my dad, then I wanted to at least look over it. It could have been old photos or something, you know? Anyway, with his help, I outbid everyone and had it all shipped here. But I had no idea how much of it there would be or that it was going to be all work files and boring stuff.”

  “What type of work did your dad do?”

  “He was a private investigator.”

  “Really?” Aiden sounds a little excited.

  “He only worked small cases, mostly cheating spouses, nothing too exciting, and everything here is at least twenty years old. I seriously doubt there is anything in here of interest.”

  “How did you lose your parents?”

  “A car crash. It was an accident. Flynn and I moved in with our grandpa. He wasn’t really excited at having two young kids to look after, especially since my Nana had already passed away, but he was kind and loving. We had a good childhood with him.”

  Aiden nods his head, his eyes staring at the many boxes.

  “If you want to look through them, you can. I wasn’t sure if I should destroy them since they contain personal information, and there is nothing of interest to me; however, I could never bring myself to do it. They are one of the only things I have that connects me to my dad. After my parents died, my grandpa sold most of their personal items. He didn’t believe in clutter. Now that I’m gone, I suppose it will be up to Flynn to dispose of it.” I sigh sadly, frustrated at how much will now rest on his shoulders. “Can we see Flynn again soon? I’m worried about him.”

  “I’ll check in with him tomorrow. Even though it is a long shot, I think I want to go through some of these, maybe take them out of here so I can go over them at home. But I’ll clear it with Flynn first, in case he freaks out at them missing.”

  “I doubt he’ll care. He was too young when our parents died. He didn’t miss them like I did. He missed having parents, but I missed Dad, who I remember always bouncing me on his knee, and Mom, who made the best pumpkin scones. I remember so much about them, but he doesn’t. This will only be stuff to him. I still hate how much he has to deal with. I wish I could have gotten things in order for him, could have sorted this out so he doesn’t have to deal with it.”

  “You h
ad no warning of what was coming, so don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  I wish hearing those words could actually make me feel better, but it doesn’t.

  I leave Aiden scanning over the boxes, moving back through my house and taking time to look over the photos I have hanging up. It’s strange how I had them along my walls, in my eye line for years yet never took the time to look at them. I used the photos as decoration instead of a reminder of the good times I shared with friends and family as well as the few amazing places I got to visit.

  I take my time now, smiling at the memories sparked of Flynn, laughing at the reminders of the fun times we shared and yearning for the places I will never get to visit. I had a list of countries and activities I wanted to do for my summer vacation. I wanted to take at least one trip every summer and slowly work away at the list. Now I’ll never get to see any of those places, never have the chance to skydive in New Zealand, eat gelato in Italy, or go skiing in Switzerland. The most exciting thing I managed is a school field trip to New Orleans where we toured the main tourist destinations, and I ate beignets and gumbo.

  I shake my head, slowly moving through the lower level of my house, checking over the mess made from the forensics people who appear to have coated every surface looking for foreign fingerprints. I don’t find anything suspicious here or out of place. There is nothing I can see that is missing, and nothing screams to me that there is a clue here. While I’m disheartened to still have nothing to give Aiden to go on, I stare up my staircase, knowing I will need to check up there, too.

  With each step, my legs grow heavier. Soon, I’m dragging my feet. I purposely check every other room, leaving my bedroom for last. I’m dreading what will happen when I glance back inside that room. I feel ill as I approach the still ajar door.

  I know I need to get this over with. I might remember something about the murderer in there. If anything is going to be amiss that might help us figure out who my killer is, it will be in my bedroom.

  But how am I supposed to enter the room where I lost my life?