The Keeper (Ellie Jordan, Ghost Trapper Book 8)

by JL Bryan

  "Nobody believes you're really my aunt," Steffy blurted out. "Not at school."

  "Perhaps I should come to that school and set them straight."

  Steffy gasped, her eyes going round. "Will you wear the Zap Girl costume?"

  "Steffy, hush!" Tammy said, while Alyssa laughed.

  "We'll see," Alyssa said, fairly glowing with pride as she looked over her niece and nephew. Pride in herself, I mean, of how the kids were in awe of her.

  "Are you really Zap Girl?" Kyle asked.

  "No," she said. She bent down to look him in the eyes. "I'm really Minnie Morris. That's the kind of name you get when your character was created in 1946, as an intrepid secretary, lab assistant, and love interest for Professor Sam Sunbeam. Who is better known as—"

  "Hurricane Man," Kyle whispered, awed. The four-year-old knew his superheroes.

  "That's right. But let's keep my secret identity secret, okay?"

  "So Dr. Experiment won't find you," Steffy said, happy to butt into this conversation.

  "That's right. Now, do you kids like presents and candy? Because your Aunt Alyssa has brought you a bunch. Delavius should be unloading them from the car now. Go find them inside!" Alyssa gestured at the door, and Zoe opened it. She closed it again as soon as the kids ran indoors.

  I glanced toward the garage, where the overhead door was rolling shut. Stacey and I had looked in there, too, finding a sea kayak, a canoe, and a jet ski. Stacey had pointed out that none of them had ever been used—it was as if they'd been stocked there just for show, to advertise what a fun, beachy lifestyle Alyssa had going on around here. The garage was all new construction, with no paranormal activity so far.

  "Lisa, thank you," Tammy began. "For the kids. You didn't have to—"

  "This is pathetic, Tammy." Alyssa whipped her gaze from the closed door over to her older sister. The kind-aunt act melted away instantly, leaving a face that was hard and angry. Like when she was breaking up with her cheating boyfriend in the second act of Girl Next Door 2, which I'd seen once. Well, most of it. It was kind of a snoozer. But I think she ended up with the guy across the street, or something.

  Anyway, here was that drama we'd been expecting.

  "You think I don't know that?" Tammy asked. "You think it's easy for me to come here like a beggar with my kids watching? And to actually have to beg...on my knees...for my own sister to—"

  "Put a plug in it, Tammy," Alyssa said. "It's embarrassing for all of us. What's your plan from here? Because I know it isn't living here in my vacation house until your kids graduate high school. Right?"

  "Of course not. I'm gonna get another job..."

  "How are you going to do that when you're two hours from home?" Alyssa asked.

  "I haven't got it all figured yet." Tammy wrung her hands.

  "You're lucky you have kids, or you'd be out on the street with the rest of the trash. I mean it."

  Apparently deciding that was a good exit line, Alyssa turned and started into the house. Zoe scrambled to get the door open in time, then followed her in.

  Tammy let out a breath. "That coulda gone worse, I guess."

  "Totally!" Hayden announced.

  The front door opened again, and Zoe gestured at me. "Miss Wagner would like to see you upstairs. Right away."

  I nodded, with a sinking feeling. Maybe we would get fired, or maybe she would just yell at me a lot. I doubted she was inviting me up for hugs and kisses, anyway. Not in the mood she was in.

  I followed Zoe up there, into the first of those posh Hollywood Regency-style rooms, where Alyssa sat on a puffy, curved pink couch and I faced her from a chair that looked sort of like a zebra-print drinking glass. Zoe sat down at a gilt-and-white-lacquer desk in the corner, where she opened a laptop.

  "None of this went as planned," Alyssa said.

  "No, and I'm sorry about that,” I said. “We're doing our best to keep investigating—we told your sister we're just here as security, and that I just happen to have a side interest in ghosts—"

  "You know what I like?" Alyssa said. "Walls. Fences."

  I nodded, since I wasn't sure what to say to that.

  "Boundaries," Alyssa said. "I worked hard to create who I am today. I don't want to get dragged back into who I used to be."

  I kept nodding, feeling like a bobble-headed doll. I made myself stop.

  "Then my sister has to show up and wreck things. We weren't ready. Did you even have time to get rid of the ghost?"

  "I'm afraid not. In fact, there's a new entity that's emerged." I told her about the woman Steffy had described, rotten and bloated, dripping with seaweed, dragging chains. Alyssa looked disturbed. "I think the presence of your family stirs them up. You may be direct descendants of some of these ghosts."

  "Not the evil mermaid, I hope." Alyssa sighed. "So my family comes to see the place and their first impression is there's a dead woman walking the halls, harassing the kids. Great."

  "Speaking of all this..." I tensed, worried she would lash out at my next question. "Your sister mentioned that your grandmother has a collection of family documents. Journals and other things. Now that we've...well, met your family members anyway, would you mind if I try to have a look at those papers?"

  She glared at me for a long moment, her jaw working. Her face slowly turned red.

  "You ever have something planned in your mind, and it's so perfect, but then you smack against reality and it all goes wrong?" she asked.

  "Pretty much daily."

  "Sure. But this was going to be the thing."

  "What...exactly were you hoping to accomplish?"

  "To show them," she said. "Finally. To shut them all up."

  "Your family?" I asked.

  "Exactly. I'm weird? I'm an embarrassment? Then who got this place? Who recaptured the family legacy, the one that mattered so much to our ancestors? Do you think I care about this place?" She stood up and looked out the window at the driveway winding out of sight toward the gate in the woods. "I could've gotten a palace on Saint Bart's for what it cost me to wrangle this place away from the feds. The lawyers. The red tape. The impact statements. Then the actual construction. No. This wasn't for me. It was for all of them. To show them that I win." She closed her eyes and rubbed the sides of her head. I got the idea that she heard the scorning voices of her sisters and mother inside there, within her own mind, far more often than she did in real life. It was clear she'd been avoiding her relatives for years...but maybe she couldn't avoid the versions of them that resided in her head.

  "I think I understand," I said. "But do you really need that? Revenge? I mean, you already won, right? You could say that. They're just regular people living regular lives. And you're world famous, making Scrooge McDuckloads of money while they struggle...what more do you have to prove? You made your sister beg already. Just to have a roof over her head, over her kids' heads."

  "Yeah, that was pretty sweet." Alyssa smiled and opened her eyes. It wasn't exactly the kind of response I was looking for, but okay. "If only I could make the others see, I think I'd be content. That's what I was planning for Thanksgiving. Kind of a 'that-shows-you-all' moment."

  "And then what?" I asked.

  "What...I don't...that's it," she said.

  "You've spent a million bucks or whatever on this place. Are you planning to come back and visit your family? Invite them here every holiday? That kind of thing?"

  "I see your point. I guess I could sell it after the holidays. I'm not tired of it yet, though." She stood and stretched. "I suppose all these people hanging around my house are going to expect me to provide dinner. And me without a professional chef on hand."

  "Hayden could...be sent to get us take-out," I said. "So, about those family papers—"

  "Why don't we have them all come out here?" Alyssa said. "May as well get it over with."

  "And she can bring—"

  "—the papers, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'll have Zoe arrange it."

  "Great. Listen, the ghost that the
little girl saw had chains on it. That could mean she's one of the slaves who died in the shipwreck. Eleven other people died, too, and our psychic says their spirits are still out there in the water. So we could be seeing more spirits come up toward the house from the ocean, especially during bad weather. Everyone needs to stay away from the water, even when the weather's clear. It's a dangerous area, no matter how safe and calm it might look.”

  "I'm so glad I paid for exclusive private beachfront that's too dangerous to use," she said. "You're going to get rid of all those ghosts, right?"

  "Just as soon as I can. Those family papers could really speed things along."

  "They'd better," she said. "I want everybody talking about how great my house is. Not how I'm stupid for buying a haunted place where gross things walk around at night."

  "Right. I see how that could be embarrassing."

  "So get on it," she said. "Do whatever it's gonna take to get rid of these things.”

  I nodded. It was a simple enough directive. Carrying it out was going to be the tricky part.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Hayden was sent to fetch some gourmet-ish pizzas from a place called Huc-A-Poos, an island fixture by the beach. It was one of the closest restaurants, out at the edge of the long developed strip of islands, dive bars, and swimsuit shops over on the eastern side of the island. The northwestern part of the island, where our client's house sat, was far less developed. The exposure to storms and hurricanes might have had something to do with that.

  I'd hoped to head back to the bungalow with Stacey while the family members caught up and maybe reconciled a little. No such luck, though. Alyssa insisted that we paranormal investigators eat with them.

  Alyssa occupied the head of the table, with a big fireplace behind her, stacked with fresh wood but unlit, because it was too warm for that to be reasonable. Above the fireplace mantel hung a huge painting of the lighthouse outside, sending a beacon of light through the fog and over high, foamy waves, guiding a storm-tossed schooner into port.

  I thought of the long-ago shipwreck outside. They'd had no such luck, and crashed instead into the boulder rather than sailing safely up the river to the city.

  My two co-workers and I sat along one side of the table, facing Tammy and her kids along the other side. Even with the seven of us, less than half the dining table's seats were taken.

  Four pizzas occupied the center of the table, one with feta cheese and olives, another with jalapenos and diced tomatoes, a third with ham and pineapple. They all had themes, is what I'm saying, and Hayden couldn't stop staring at the Hawaiian one. He squirmed a little, impatient for everyone to start grabbing food and eating. Tammy's kids eyed the pizzas, too, but acted more mature about them.

  Delavius and Zoe didn't join us, which I thought was lucky for them.

  “Well, you're all here to eat, aren't you?” Alyssa asked. She had a tiny, dressing-free salad on her plate, barely enough to feed the world's smallest rabbit, and a tall glass of iced water adorned with lemon and lime wedges. “Dig in.”

  The kids and Hayden immediately reached out to seize the various slices of pizza they'd been eyeing. They moved these to their own plates—expensive china from the hutch in the corner, as if this were a fancy dinner party.

  I took one of the Greek-style slices while Stacey grabbed some every-vegetable pizza. Tammy took a slice but didn't seem enthusiastic about it. She poked listlessly at it, while the kids gorged and babbled excitedly about their presents—jewelry, dresses, and makeup for Steffy. For Kyle, an assortment of toy guns and hand grenades, plus an expensive home video game system. Both had received gigantic stuffed animals, too, as big as the kids themselves.

  Tammy shook her head as they ate and blabbered. I reflected that the stuffed animals were too big for the car they were living out of, and the money Alyssa had shelled out on these gifts would probably cover a couple months' rent on the apartment from which they had been evicted.

  Alyssa watched all of this with an indulgent smile, the kids happy about their presents, her sister's visible discomfort. Maybe enjoying the second thing more than the first.

  “Don't you love your Aunt Alyssa?” she asked, more than once.

  “Yes!” the kids would scream back. And she would pretend not to hear them and make them scream even louder about how much they loved their long-missing aunt.

  “Even better than Aunt Penny?” Alyssa asked.

  The kids looked at each other solemnly.

  “Lisa, don't—” Tammy said.

  “Yes!” Steffy finally said, and her little brother echoed the sentiment, nodding vigorously.

  “Come on, now,” Tammy said. “Love's not a competition.”

  “Are you serious?” Alyssa snickered. “That's what you tell them? Kids, your momma's not preparing you for the real world at all. But it's not her fault. She just doesn't know anybody. She's never been anywhere, you see. Never done anything that mattered, never met anyone who mattered. I once had dinner at the White House, did you know that?”men like

  “Whoa,” Steffy said, visibly impressed. Kyle seemed less aware of the significance of that particular house.

  “But don't you worry, kids, because your Aunt Alyssa is watching out for you. I'll find you a good school, a real school that will prepare you for an actual successful future. So you don't have to stay in a dead little town and marry worthless men like your—”

  “That's enough!” Tammy shouted, rising from her chair. “You don't need to be speaking to my kids that way.”

  “Or you're going to do what?” Alyssa asked, remaining calmly seated. “You're in no position to tell me what to do.”

  “I may have had some bad luck—” Tammy began.

  “You mean bad choices?” Alyssa interrupted.

  “All right. Some of them, too. I may be in a bad way right now...but you can't take away my self-respect. You can't take away my pride.”

  “Pride? Self-respect?” Alyssa wore an exaggerated puzzled expression. “Why would you have any of those left at this point in your life?”

  Tammy looked from her sister, to her kids, then to us ghost trappers. We were doing our best to pretend we weren't in the room.

  “You say we were mean to you, Lisa?” Tammy asked. “Now I'm glad. Now I see you deserved it. You're an awful person on the inside.”

  “On the inside, I'm just what y'all made me,” Alyssa replied, still smiling like a cat with a mouthful of fresh mouse. “The rest of me, I made myself.”

  “That doesn't make any sense,” Tammy said.

  “It wouldn't to a simpleton like you, would it?” Alyssa replied. She shook the ice in her glass and took another sip.

  “You just wait until Penny and Momma get here tomorrow,” Tammy said. “They'll have some words about how you're acting, I'm sure.” She stalked to the nearest doorway and left the room.

  “I can't wait!” Alyssa yelled. “I've got words for them, too!”

  The dining room was awkwardly quiet for a moment. The kids had stopped eating and stared at their aunt at the head of the table, their mouths open, half-eaten pizza slices in their hands.

  “You kids like dessert?” she asked, and they broke into smiles again.

  Once the long, slow nightmare of dinner was over, Stacey and I helped Zoe clear the table and clean up. It got us out of the room and passed the time.

  The house was boisterous for a while with the kids running around. Tammy would tell them to slow down and be quiet. Alyssa would insist the kids be louder instead. Hayden did his best to chat with Tammy, who seemed not to notice his interest at all. I doubted she was oblivious to it, though.

  Eventually, Stacey and I managed to retreat to the caretaker's bungalow again, with our screens and speakers, waiting to see whether any ghosties showed up tonight. I kept a special watch on the upstairs hall, in case Rotten Mermaid Lady returned to harass Steffy or anyone else. Steffy had moved to a different bedroom for the night.

  The rain picked up as the hou
r grew later. I checked the cameras looking out at the beach and saw the churning water around the base of the lighthouse as the tide swallowed the land around it. High tide was coming in, and it would peak around one a.m.

  It was around that time when thunder rumbled around the house, though tonight's storm was pretty minor compared to the previous night or to the forecasts for the rest of the week. The small lamp in the corner of the bungalow living room snuffed out like a candle. The glowing screens dampened.

  “Power's out again,” Stacey said, in case I missed it.

  I immediately switched my screen to look through the thermal camera in the upstairs hall in the main house.

  “I'm seeing a cold spot,” I told her, while watching a basketball-sized blob of blue float down the hall. “I think she's back.”

  “Need the cavalry to charge in, ladies?” Hayden asked.

  “Do you even know how to ride a horse?” Stacey countered.

  “I, uh...”

  “He doesn't need one,” I said. “He has a talking car.”

  “That joke's getting really old!” Hayden snapped.

  “Not to us,” I said.

  “Fine. Go get your faces clawed off and see who saves you this time.”

  “Great plan,” I replied. I double-checked my utility belt, and then Stacey and I started up the glass hallway. Occasional pops of lightning broke the rainy darkness outside. I kept waiting for something to jump out at us. Nothing did, not that time.

  “Hayden, what are you seeing now?” I asked as we reached the side door to the main house.

  “The cold spot's moving down the hall,” he said. “And D-Train—”

  “—never sleeps, it looks like,” Stacey finished as the bodyguard opened the door to admit us into the big house.

  “If you're looking for leftover Hawaiian pizza, that David Hasselhoff dude took the rest out to the van,” Delavius said.

  “Thanks, but no,” I told him. “We're here about—”

  Someone screamed upstairs.

  “—that,” I said.

  The three of us raced toward the stairs, Delavius in the lead. Way, way in the lead. The guy had the leg stride of a galloping Tyrannosaurus. He took the suspended spiral-art staircase three steps at a time. We kept up as best we could.