If You've Got It, Haunt It: A ghost romance (The Peyton Clark Series Book 4)

by H. P. Mallory

  “We do, but they’re harder to come by.” She paused, looking suddenly bashful. “That’s why I do most of my grocery shopping in Santa Maria.”

  “Your mom doesn’t do the grocery shopping?” Maggie’s mother, Brenda, worked a lot and was uptight and temperamental in general. There was no Mr. Brenda.

  “She does, sometimes.” Maggie was now taking a greater-than-warranted interest in her half-finished hot dog. A few yards away, a family was posing for one of those done-in-ten-minutes sketch portraits. She glowered at them as if she resented their togetherness.

  “Sometimes?” I asked and studied her.

  “Yeah. Sometimes.”

  “And other times?” I prodded, even though I could tell Maggie wasn’t exactly comfortable.

  “Other times she’s too busy drinking to even know I’m home,” Maggie finished.

  I swallowed hard. “I didn’t know that.”

  Maggie nodded like she wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t close with Brenda because my mother, Brenda’s older sister, was never close to her either. Truth be told, I was pretty surprised when Maggie reached out to ask if she could come and stay with me for two weeks.

  “Well, you’ll be heading to college soon, right?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Either that or I’m thinking I might look for a job. Either way, I want to move out.”

  “Because of your mom’s drinking?” I asked, wondering if I was asking too much.

  “No. Mostly because she’s just not much fun.”

  “Not much fun?”

  Maggie nodded and then shrugged. “She’s gotten a little… weird.”

  “Weird how?”

  “She’s just super judgmental of everyone and everything.”

  “Oh,” I said. Feeling unsure of what more to say, I took a bite of a fry and chased it with a swallow of Coke.

  “She didn’t want me to come out here to see you,” Maggie continued.

  “Why not?”

  “Because of all the ghost stuff.”

  “The ghost stuff?”

  “Yeah. All the haunted house stuff. She thinks you’re a little loony.”

  I tried not to take offense because Brenda probably wasn’t the only one in my family who thought I was “loony.” And, honestly, I didn’t really care. “But you came out anyway?”

  Maggie nodded. “I always liked you and I really wanted to see New Orleans.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  Maggie nodded and started to zone out on her straw. When she looked up at me, I could tell there was more going on in her head. “Mom found out that I believe in spirits and she said I would never have gotten the idea into my head if it weren’t for you.”

  My eyes widened. “But I thought you just said you didn’t believe in them?”

  Maggie nodded. “I just said that because I didn’t want you to think that was the only reason I came here.”

  “Why would I think that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I imagine lots of people would want to visit their cousin if they knew she could see and talk to ghosts, right?”

  “I guess,” I answered but I wasn’t convinced.

  “I just didn’t want you to think I thought of you as a freak show or something.”

  “Well, thanks for that,” I answered with a smile. Teenagers.

  I was quiet for a few seconds as another question occurred to me. “Is Drake the first spirit you’ve actually seen?”

  “Yes,” Then she cocked her head to the side. “It’s crazy how real he looks. I mean, you can’t see through him unless you look down at his feet.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he’s like, super hot. I didn’t know ghosts could be so hot.”

  “Well, they look the same as they did when they were alive.”

  “It’s a shame he’s dead,” she said with a laugh. “He’s definitely a looker.”

  “Don’t tell him that,” I said with a smile. “He’s already got an ego the size of Louisiana.”

  “So do you have the hots for him?”

  “For Drake?” I asked with a laugh. “He’s a ghost.”

  “So what?” She shrugged. “You can still have normal conversations with him and he seems to be super advanced on the spiritual spectrum.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s not like stuck replaying the scene of his death over and over again. He interacts with you, and he looks totally three-dimensional. That means he’s powerful as far as ghosts go.”

  “Yeah, I guess he is.” I ate another fry and noticed, with chagrin, that I nearly gobbled the entire basket. I shoved the rest of them at Maggie. “You need to finish these.”

  She laughed.

  So going back to your mom,” I started and Maggie frowned. I tapped my nails against the side of my soda cup in agitation. I should have known that Brenda—straitlaced, conventional Brenda—wouldn’t encourage the family gift. She disapproved of me even before she learned I could see and communicate with ghosts. She almost seemed relieved when she learned of my vocation, because it gave her retroactive justification for her abject disapproval of me.

  “We’re not supposed to know what goes on after death,” she’d once told me, her neck throbbing with rage. “It’s supposed to be a mystery.”

  I explained to her that Drake had told me essentially the same thing, in different words—that ghosts were stuck in a liminal place between the afterlife and earth. But of course, Brenda wouldn’t have it. I never knew if she doubted Drake’s words were true or Drake, himself. Brenda didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits.

  “Did you explain to your mom that it’s not like you asked for this gift?” I asked.

  Maggie shrugged. “Yeah. I told her all that, but you know how she is. Once she makes up her mind, there’s nothing that can convince her to change it. I defended you. I told Mom you’re not, like, a devil worshipper but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “So I’m guessing she doesn’t share the gift with us?”

  Maggie laughed. “My mom is the last person in the world that any ghost would want to show themselves to.”

  She sat quietly for the next few seconds, staring at her untouched fries. It was a mostly cloudless afternoon and the sun was bearing down on the backs of our necks.

  When she looked up at me, her eyes seemed clouded with worry. “Can we go now? I’m not feeling particularly hungry.”

  “You barely touched your fries!”

  “Yeah, but they’re already cold. I should have eaten them before I started my hot dog.”

  We returned our baskets to the counter and walked back to the car. As I replayed the conversation over in my head, I gathered that Maggie and Brenda were alienated from one another. And I could also tell that Maggie was outgrowing her mother. She had a thirst for the outside world, something I’d never seen in Brenda. It was tempting to tell Maggie she could come and live with me if she wanted to, but I knew her mother wouldn’t allow her to reside long-term with an “occultist.” And Ryan would probably have a fit.

  Speaking of whom, Ryan was still asleep when we returned to the house, but we found Greg downstairs in the sitting-room, busily packing up his tools.

  “I managed to fix the hole near the window,” he said, “but the one over the bed will have to wait until I can get my tallest stepladder. Unfortunately, the ladder’s currently in a storage shed in Shreveport and it’ll take me at least ‘til tomorrow night before I can get out there and pick it up.”

  “I’m sure Ryan has a ladder that’s tall enough.”

  Greg shrugged. “Well, even if he did, I got a couple other jobs I gotta check on today an’ tomorrow, so I’m afraid that’s just how it’s gotta go for now.”

  “Well, let’s pray it doesn’t rain tonight,” I said, with an uneasy feeling that it would.

  “It don’t look like rain,” he answered.

  “Yeah, but you never know,” I retorted, because it was the truth. One second i
t could be muggy and humid, and the next, raining.

  “Well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Great. Thank you,” I said even though I couldn’t hide my disappointment that the roof wasn’t waterproof.

  I walked Greg out with Maggie at my heels. Once I closed the door behind him, I turned to face her. “Ryan and I can sleep in one of the guest rooms until Thursday night. He’ll moan about it, but it’ll be fine. Or we could all sleep at his house?”

  “Um, I think I’d rather stay here if that’s okay.”

  I also had a feeling she was interested in getting chummier with Drake. Not that I could blame her. The ghost was an absolute charmer.

  I went upstairs to check out the ceiling and Maggie, now slightly bored without anything better to do, followed at a slight distance. Somehow, the ceiling over the bed was still leaking water despite the fact that it hadn’t rained since last night.

  “Growing up I always wanted to live in a house with an enormously high ceiling,” said Maggie as she gazed up at the enormously high ceiling and frowned, “but now I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

  “It’s no problem as long as you have an enormously tall ladder,” I answered with a laugh. “Thus, in this case, I guess you could say it is a problem.”

  The prospect of sleeping in another room might have been an inviting one if not for all the cleaning and changing of sheets that it required first. As I mentioned earlier, I wasn’t a fan of household chores.

  “Honestly, sometimes I want to tell Luke Montague he can have this place,” I said, feeling sorry for myself. “Let him be the one to deal with leaking roofs, creaky, hardwood floors and musty, old ghosts.”

  “I will have you know,” Drake started, surprising us both when he appeared out of nowhere. But he was interrupted by the only other male in the house.

  “We’re not giving the house to Luke Montague.” Ryan appeared in the doorway, still looking bleary-eyed as he faced us both and stifled a yawn.

  “Whoa,” Maggie said, apparently impressed with my boyfriend.

  “Maggie, this is Ryan. Ryan, this is Maggie.”

  Ryan stepped forward and shook Maggie’s hand as they both said hello. Then he faced me and smiled. “There are always going to be minor annoyances in an old house, but I know how much you love this place even on its worst days.”

  Ryan was right, of course. “He’s got a point,” I said to Maggie with a smirk.

  “As if you would just leave me here to face whomever happened to move in after you,” Drake continued, sounding indignant. “You wound me, mon chaton.”

  “It was just a joke, gosh!” I said, rolling my eyes.

  Ryan faced me in confusion for a second or so but then realized I was talking to Drake so he mumbled something incoherent and started for the bathroom where, a few seconds later, I heard him brushing his teeth. He walked back out to inspect the ceiling.

  “Did Greg even attempt to fix the leak?” he asked.

  Before I could respond, a sharp explosion burst through the air.

  I screamed.

  Maggie screamed.

  Ryan looked at both of us like we were nuts.

  Drake let out a concerned “Mon Dieu!”

  Chapter Eleven

  The sound came from outside; that much was clear. Ryan looked from me to Maggie, and both of us looked at him and then at each other, as our eyes widened in disbelief. I had a feeling this day was about to get a whole lot weirder.

  “What,” Ryan started, “was that?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I said.

  “A bomb!” Maggie declared. Ryan reached for the locked cabinet beside my bed where he kept a gun when Lovie’s voice could be heard calling out from the front yard.

  “Peyton?” she yelled, her voice audible through the open window.

  “Lovie?” I yelled back, instant relief suffusing me.

  “Come downstairs an’ let me in, honey! An’ if you wouldn’t mind fixin’ a couple o’ plates o’ whatever you’ve got in your pantry—it’s been a bit.”

  Ryan froze with his hands on the lock of the gun cabinet as he gazed back at me, nonplussed. “Is that really Lovie?” he asked, shaking his head. “Why would Lovie set off an explosion?”

  I shrugged. “I mean… it sounded like her.” Who the hell else would it be? I wondered to myself.

  “Because it is her,” Drake announced as he appeared beside Ryan. “And apparently, she brought a friend with her.”

  “Drake said it’s the real Lovie,” I said to Ryan with a shrug.

  “And she brought a friend,” Maggie added, nodding.

  Ryan faced us both with a frown. “And how the hell does Drake know if it’s really Lovie?”

  “Le barbare is such a bore,” Drake responded as he shook his head and disappeared through the door.

  “He’s a spirit,” I answered with a shrug. “And he knows things we mortals don’t?”

  Ryan took a big breath and nodded. “Okay, let’s go see Lovie.”

  “And her friend,” Maggie added before turning to face me. “Then we should let her in, right?” she asked, but she appeared nervous at the suggestion and she started chewing on her fingernails. “I mean, why are we even asking whether it’s the real Lovie?”

  “Because so many weird things have taken place today, I wouldn’t be surprised if Scooby Doo showed up on Peyton’s doorstep,” Ryan answered.

  “Hmm, that would be interesting,” I said.

  He grumbled something but nodded and started for the front door. Maggie and I followed behind him. When I passed Lizzie in the living room, I noticed her head was turned towards the door as well. That wasn’t creepy at all…

  We found Lovie waiting for us on the front porch along with a woman I instantly recognized. I felt the heat of anger welling up within me as I faced her and she gave me a sharp expression.

  “Angharad,” I said stonily. What was she doing on my front porch with Lovie? I wondered.

  “Luckily for you, I was able to locate your friend, Lovie, here,” said Angharad, pushing past me into the foyer without an invitation. I doubted this woman ever got invitations anywhere she went. “There happen to be a few things we need to discuss.”

  “Come right in,” I grumbled as I shook my head and looked at Lovie, who merely shrugged but gave me a smile and a quick hug.

  “Who is that?” Maggie whispered to me as she looked from Angharad to Lovie. That was when I realized Maggie hadn’t been introduced to Lovie and vice versa. Well, and Angharad too, for that matter.

  Once we walked into my living room, I made the necessary introductions. Maggie appeared quite taken with Angharad which caused me some level of concern because I didn’t know or trust the witch.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here,” Ryan started as he faced Angharad.

  Angharad looked at Ryan with indifference as she seated herself in one of the winged chairs alongside the fireplace. Then she produced a martini glass out of thin air, looking as much at home as if she owned the place. I was viscerally reminded of the three weird sisters in A Wrinkle in Time. All we needed was a stormy night to complete the effect.

  “Wow,” Maggie said as she watched Angharad with awe.

  When I glanced over at Lizzie where she sat on the couch, across from Angharad, sure enough, she was now facing our bizarre guest. As long as Ryan didn’t notice, we’d be okay. I doubted he could handle the knowledge that the doll could move on its own. I wasn’t sure Maggie would be able to handle it either, for that matter.

  “What manner of creature is this?” Drake asked, as he appeared beside Angharad and floated around her, inspecting her as if she were a bizarre bird. “And is she friend or foe?”

  “Oh, buzz off, ghosty,” Angharad responded as she swatted the air around herself, presumably trying to bat Drake away. “I’m not here to hurt your human. If I wanted to, I already would have.”

  “Ghosty?” Drake repeated as he appeared completely affronted when he faced m
e. “And she told me to buzz off? Mon Dieu!”

  Maggie started to giggle and Angharad’s attention immediately latched onto her. “You’ve got the gift too, haven’t you?”

  “Um… I guess so?” Maggie asked as she looked at me uncertainly.

  “Yes, she has the gift,” I responded.

  Angharad nodded but then appeared wholly disinterested. “Well, come along then!” she continued. “Have a seat. All of you. I haven’t got all bloody day!”

  Drake and Maggie immediately sat down on the loveseat, on either side of Lizzie, across from Angharad and faced her with measured anticipation. Lovie sat in the other side chair beside Angharad. I, however, ignored her theatrics and remained standing. Ryan stood beside me. “How did you find Lovie? A few hours ago, she had no idea who you were.”

  I pictured Angharad appearing in Lovie’s kitchen amid plumes of smoke and pillars of fire—but the actual story was much less dramatic and more convoluted, involving a homing pigeon, a couple of smoke bombs, and a mysterious man on the telephone who spoke in a Russian accent…

  “Two hours later, I found myself stranded on the far side o’ town near the Oak Park Shoppin’ Center,” said Lovie, “with no way ta get home an’ wonderin’ why I was out here in the first place, when Angharad appeared an’ said, ‘Get in, stupid!’ She told me we were headed to your place.”

  “And that didn’t strike you as odd?” I asked as I watched Lovie taking note of Lizzie. She studied the doll for a moment or two and smiled at her, nodding softly. Ryan continued to stand beside me, eyeing Angharad as well as the open space beside Maggie with equal amounts of suspicion.

  “Well, it did at first,” Lovie said. “But Angharad’s aura speaks for her.”

  “She has an aura?” Maggie asked.

  “We all do,” Angharad announced and then yawned.

  Maggie continued to study her with an expression mixed between awe, admiration and fear. “What was with the explosion?” she asked.

  “Well, my pretty, little friend,” Angharad started as she turned to Maggie before inspecting her long, gnarled fingernails. “Apparently, Peyton’s doorbell is nonfunctioning, and no one could hear us when we knocked. Thus, after five minutes of knocking, I decided to come up with another means of attracting your attention.”