“Candy—”
She turned toward me, and I almost stepped back when I saw the moisture in her eyes. “Seriously, Tara. Something about that sermon struck a nerve. I felt so rejected by the church when I was a teen. What if I could help other people to never feel like that? What if I could use my experiences and be a part of the solution?”
I couldn’t argue. “I think that would be wonderful.”
“The past few years, I’ve been living for myself. What would it be like to not always have my number one priority be me and my happiness? It’s like the pastor said...it’s an empty pursuit.”
I nodded, not one to try and douse someone else’s passion, even if I did have my reservations. Candy seemed really sincere, and the best I could do would be to pick her up and give her a hug if anything went wrong. “Okay then. You should do it. I’ll go with you.”
Cooper stepped forward. “Me too.”
She grinned. “I’ll meet you back here in two hours. Does that work?”
“Sure.”
~*~
Candy’s Hugs for the Homeless outreach had gone so well that Wanda opened up the church building as a cooling station afterward. I was really proud of Candy. Though her idea had been crazy, she’d completed the task as she completed everything in life—with enthusiasm.
She’d donned sandwich board signs proclaiming her mission and made her rounds. Would it be a non-Christian who taught me how to truly live as a Christian? Life was full of irony. There was one thing I’d realized today, though. I’d realized that as much as I tried to fight it or over-analyze it, I believed in God. I truly did. And it was time to stop making excuses and to realize that, no matter how hard life felt, God was still good. Peace fell over me at the realization.
We were back now at The Mercy House, and Cooper and I helped to hand out water and Popsicles while Candy mingled. Wanda worked beside us.
Her gaze fixated on someone in the distance, a man standing beside a table packed with brochures and tracts. “Many of the homeless are on the street because of mental illness. Some days you just never know what’s going to transpire here at the church as a result.” She nodded to the man she was watching. “That man over there...he’s been coming here for a couple of years now. He used to be an engineer, but then something caused him to have a mental break of some sort. I can’t be sure, but I think he has some form of schizophrenia.”
She continued. “He has this obsession with eggs. He’s always asking for them and then rubbing them against his head.”
Eggs? Connections began forming in my mind but not nearly quickly enough.
He approached an artificial bowl of fruit and picked up a piece, bringing it toward his mouth. Wanda took off toward him. “Philip! Philip Whitehurst, that’s not a real apple!”
I froze. Had she just said Philip Whitehurst? Eggs? Everything suddenly made sense. I rounded the counter, feeling like some other force was driving me toward the man. He was the man I’d seen staring in my window that day. He was short and chubby with a ruddy complexion and a receding hairline. His brown eyes darted about uncertainly as Wanda took the plastic apple from his hands.
I stopped and stared. Homeless. Possibly schizophrenic. Believed he was cursed. Angry with Danielle. Was this man a killer?
Lord, give me the right words.
“Excuse me, are you Philip Whitehurst?” I tried to soften my tone.
The man flinched and backed up. His eyes darted from person to person, and sweat poured down his face. I had to do something before this man took off like a scared rabbit.
“I live in Danielle Miller’s house.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. He paused. “Danielle?” His eyes lit up as he said her name.
I nodded. “That’s right. Danielle. She was your friend, wasn’t she?”
His eyes began twitching again. Was this man a murderer? Had he gone off the deep end when Danielle took his money?
“I didn’t kill Danielle! I loved her!” He backed up and hit the table.
I soaked in his features, the way his hands shook, how I could see the white around his pupils. This was a man on edge. But why? “Why have you been following me?”
His hands began flying through the air, swinging wildly with his words. “People think I killed her. I just wanted to talk. To talk.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Danielle.”
I made sure my words sounded even. “What about Danielle?”
“I just want to talk to her.” His voice took on the strain of a desperate man. His eyes pleaded with me. But desperation led to funny things sometimes, things like murder.
“She’s dead, Philip. You know that.”
He rubbed his head, the movement becoming more vigorous with each second. “I heard that she’s been trying to talk to you. Her spirit. I want her to talk to me, too.”
“She’s not trying to talk. Someone’s just trying to scare me.” Even as I said the words, I heard the doubt in my voice.
“You’re wrong,” he whispered. “You’re wrong.”
Before I could say anything else, he darted toward the exit, and he was gone.
Chapter 30
I returned to the Little House of Horrors, a strange satisfaction fully settled in my gut. Maybe a church like The Mercy House was just what I needed to wash myself of the legalism staining my life. Maybe Minnesota really could be my new start.
Cooper was behind me as I unlocked my door, and I was all too aware of his every movement. It was like he didn’t even have to touch me, but I was profoundly aware that he was there. The electricity that flashed between us was stronger than any thunderstorm, yet it was grounded also. Really, it was the perfect mix. Really, we were the perfect mix.
I pushed the door open, wondering what this evening might hold. Would Cooper and I continue on this path as friends? Or would something change?
As soon as I stepped inside, I skidded to a halt. My gaze latched on to the wall in front of me. I gasped in horror. Words were slashed across the wall as if Satan himself had risen from the depths of hell and threatened me, using his own blood as ink.
Don’t suffer the same fate as my father.
I turned around, and Cooper wrapped his arms around me. He covered my head, as if he wanted to shield me from the bone-shattering fear that coursed through my body. I felt him staring at the words, his ever-analytical mind processing and trying to find solutions.
He stepped away, his hands still at my shoulders, gently massaging my rock hard back muscles. “It’s going to be okay,” he soothed.
The words stained my memory, though. Whoever was doing this just wasn’t going to stop, were they? They were going to keep going and going until...until what? Until I left? Until I went crazy? Until I did a Brittany Spears and shaved my hair off? “I don’t see how things are going to get better. Things have gone from bad to Zombie Apocalypse type of bad.”
“We’re going to find out who did this.”
I pulled back so I could see his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“The cameras I had set up.” He walked toward the wall and touched a red letter then examined his finger. “It’s still wet.”
“Blood?” My throat felt dry as I said the word. This had to be a nightmare.
He shook his head. “Some kind of paint, I think. Maybe one that’s been mixed with a stain to give it the color and tint of blood. It’s not blood, though.”
Some of the tension that had knotted itself over my heart loosened.
But there were still other things to worry about. “What does that message mean?”
“I have no idea.”
I leaned against the wall for a moment. “Wasn’t it the death of Danielle’s dad that triggered all of this psychic stuff in Danielle? What is someone saying? Don’t trigger someone else’s disbelief? It just doesn’t make sense.”
He went to the computer. “Come on. I can check out things and maybe find some answers for you.” He
sat in the chair and pulled up a website. A few minutes later, the video feed from Lana’s house came on to the screen.
Cooper tapped a few more buttons. I could sense from how he forcefully hit the keyboard that his frustration was rising. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“What?” I leaned toward the screen, which had gone black.
“The video feed is only an hour long, and it’s from yesterday. That’s impossible. I set up these cameras myself.” He stood. “Unless...”
“Where are you going?”
He went over to the bookshelf and moved aside a few things on the top shelf. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”
“What?” I sounded like a parrot, repeating the same word over and over again.
“It’s gone.”
I stopped and put my hand on the couch to brace myself. “What do you mean gone?”
“I mean the camera’s not there anymore.” He started toward the kitchen. “I’m going to check the one in the basement.”
I didn’t want to stay up here with that eerie warning and the missing cameras, so I scrambled behind him. He took the first step into the basement when there was a crack, followed by a crash. He tumbled downward.
I screamed.
Finally, I came to my senses and ran down the stairs. I alternated my gaze between Cooper’s body at the bottom and the steps themselves. Had someone tampered with them?
Just as I reached the bottom, Cooper sat up and rubbed his head. A gash ran down the side of his face. I knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, still rubbing his head and scowling. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“My guess is that someone knocked the first board on that step loose.”
Don’t suffer the same fate as my father. How exactly had Danielle’s father died? Steve had said something about a tragic accident. Did I really want to know?
I started to touch Cooper’s wound, but stopped myself. “We’ve got to get that cleaned up.”
I helped him to his feet.
“I don’t think you should stay in this house anymore, Tara. I think that accident was intended for you.”
Getting the chills was becoming about as common for me as sneezing or coughing or eating and breathing. The “ghost” had never really tried to harm me before. Were things changing? I knew one thing: I didn’t want to be here anymore. Ever.
~*~
The lead detective called me on Monday to see if I could come down to the station and talk. Candy and I had crashed at Cooper’s again. Cooper had put in a call to his friend Steve, who’d confirmed that Danielle’s father had died in a tragic accident where he’d fallen down the stairs.
My soul was beginning to feel comatose from all of the insinuations and creepy revelations. Enough was enough. Either a real ghost haunted the house or someone was doing a great job emulating one.
Cooper graciously said he’d come with me to the police station, and I didn’t refuse. I didn’t know what this meeting would hold, but I could use some support, someone to hold up my arms for me while the battle raged. Cooper was just that person.
We walked into the precinct and were immediately ushered into a plain office. The lead detective—Hensley was his name—sat behind the desk, looking as weary and exhausted as my soul felt. He instructed us to sit in the chairs across from him. I braced myself, feeling like I was boarding a roller coaster and about to take off on the ride of my life. Bad news had a way of doing that to you.
Hensley laced his hands on top of his desk calendar and stared at us, his eyelids sagging with both age and wariness. “Thanks for coming down here, Ms. Lancaster. We have good news and bad news.”
I stared at the detective, wondering if I really wanted to know. Of course, I did, especially if the news meant I was closer to getting some answers. “Okay, go ahead.”
He picked up a paper at the left of his desk and his gaze lingered on it a moment. “The good news is that the lab results came back on the slime we found on your bathroom mirror. The substance wasn’t otherworldly, as other threats may have alluded. It was actually just slime you could find at any toy store or online.”
A strange relief settled on me. “That is good news.” The relief only lasted a moment. My mental roller coaster was merely creeping up the large hill and about to plunge downward and scare the snot out of me. “That bad news?”
The detective shifted, as if he didn’t want to say what he had to say. “We dusted the note found underneath the butcher knife for prints. We found a useable print there that we were able to trace.”
I sat ramrod straight. “And?”
He looked away. “The print belongs to Danielle Miller.”
Any relief I’d felt dissipated, and I leaned back in my chair—hard. What sense did that make? How was that even possible? “I see. What does this mean for me?”
“We’ll continue our investigation and make sure to report anything else that happens.”
Why did I not feel any assurance at his words? They were about as likely to find the person behind this as I was likely to find a ghost.
We went out to Cooper’s truck. I wanted to talk through things with him on the ride home but, before I had the chance, my cell phone rang. It was Candy. She greeted me with a high-pitched squeal. It was a Pop Rocks Candy kind of day.
“You’ll never believe this.”
“Believe what?” I glanced at Cooper and shrugged. Even he’d heard her squeal.
“I posted that video online last night—the one about Hugs for the Homeless.”
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the point. The point is that it went viral overnight. Like viral viral. It’s had a million hits already. I got a call from Entertainment Hourly, and they want to do a feature on me. A feature on me. This could be what I’ve been dreaming about, Tara!”
“That’s great, Candy. Very exciting.” I knew she’d been trying to catch her big break for a long time.
“And get this—they want to come out tomorrow. They want to know if they can interview me at The Mercy House and maybe get some people to be there with me. That’s even better because not only would my video be featured, but so would the church. What do you think? Could you talk to Cooper about it?”
“Of course. I’ll see if he can call Wanda.”
“I’m so excited, Tara. And not just for myself. I mean, sure, I’m all into marketing and trying to promote by work. But I just feel like there’s something bigger at work here, Tara. Do you know what I mean?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“I’ll call you later.”
I filled Cooper in on the conversation. “That’s pretty amazing. There’s more to Candy than I gave her credit for. I really think that something in the sermon yesterday changed her. ”
“God can change hearts.” Cooper glanced at me. “Is he working on yours?”
I slowly drew in a breath. “Yeah, he is. He’s showing me some sides of myself that I don’t really like.”
“If your life was perfect then you wouldn’t have a need for a Savior.”
“Amen,” I whispered. Wasn’t that the truth? My heavy heart had nearly become a hardened heart.
We stopped in front of Lana’s place in time to see someone outside the neighbor’s house, the one that was for sale. I got out of Cooper’s truck and paused on the sidewalk, watching as the woman shoved a sign into the grass reading Open House.
Why did the woman look familiar? She saw me and smiled. Before I lost courage, I charged across the lawn. Cooper caught up quickly. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.”
The woman—an older lady with gray hair, minimal wrinkles and a pressed suit—smiled broadly as we approached. “Good afternoon. Know anyone who’s looking for a house?”
“I would love to see the inside of this place.” I wondered if the owner would be interested in renting it? Maybe I’d leave my life in Miami totally be
hind and come here. I shook my head. No, that was a crazy thought. I would have to make some decisions soon, though. Lana was due back at the end of the week, and what would I do then?
But that wasn’t the real reason I wanted to go inside. I wanted to figure out where I’d seen this woman before. A tour of the house might give me the time I needed to do just that.
She glanced back at us as we climbed the steps to the porch. “Are the two of you looking for your first home?”
I looked up at Cooper and my cheeks heated at the woman’s assumption. “Oh no. We’re not. No. It’s not like that.”
Cooper’s lips curled in that amused grin again. What would it be like to look for a house with Cooper? The thought caused a rush of excitement to travel up my spine and end with fireworks in my brain.
His arm slipped around my waist. “We’d just like to see what’s out there.”
She opened the front door and spread her arms to showcase the living room. “Well, this is really quite a lovely place. A perfect starter home.”
I blinked at what I saw. The house was nearly an exact replica of Lana’s place. In newer neighborhoods, this wouldn’t surprise me. But this neighborhood had houses in all shapes and sizes, each as unique as a fingerprint. I supposed I should have noticed the similarities in the houses from the outside, but I hadn’t. I’d had other things to think about since I’d been here. Namely, my own house and the nightmares that had transpired there.
I was speechless as I saw the rest of the house. Even the basement was a perfect match for Lana’s.
We paused in the living room. “How long has this place been vacant?” I asked.
She clasped her hands in front of her, appearing prim and proper. “About a year. The previous owners left rather quickly. They were anxious for a move.”
“Why was that?” I shifted my weight, curiosity pressing in on me.
“I’m not sure. I assumed it was because of their growing family. The place is bank-owned right now, however.”
I stared at the woman another moment. Did she just have one of those faces? I didn’t think so. We thanked her for showing us the place and then hurried back to Lana’s. Cooper kept a hand on my back as if he feared I might pass out as we trotted across the grass.
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