Restless Spirits

by Shyla Colt

  “What do you think we should do next?” Pierce leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms above his head.

  “I don’t know. I guess it’ll depend on the walk-through tonight. Ask questions and see if she answers?”

  “Sounds like a plan. In the meantime, I think we should take a break. It’ll be lunchtime soon, and I saw a place I know you’ll love.”

  Demi glanced down at the small stack of books and back to Pierce. “I’m game. One more word, and my head might explode.”

  “Pierce.” She couldn’t hide her excitement when they pulled in front of the old-fashioned-style soda shop in the center of town. The balloon lettering on the dusky pink awning over the building read SUSY’S SODA SHOPPE. Identical font was scrawled across the window in gold.

  “You like it?”

  “I love it. Oh, my God. This might be the best trip I’ve ever been on.” She unbuckled her seat belt and scrambled out of the car before he could walk around to open her door. She ignored his laughter and drank in the beauty she spied through the large glass window. Rows of wooden shelves lined with candy and glass cases with treats of all shapes and sizes made her mouth water.

  “Wow, this is straight out of Willy Wonka.” Pierce wrapped an arm around her waist, and she forced herself to relax and enjoy the closeness. Pierce wasn’t some guy trying to get into her pants. She could trust him. They moved forward, and she snuggled into his side, giving fear a swift kick to the shins. She’d allowed her mother’s death and her father’s response to it to scare her so much she refused to try her hand at love. The time to grow up and move on had arrived. They opened the door, and a bell jingled. Dressed in white shirts with black aprons over them, the women behind the registers greeted them with bright smiles.

  “Welcome to Susan’s. Have you been here before?”

  “No, we haven’t,” Demi said, grinning as excitement vibrated through her body. Her giant sweet tooth had her practically drooling.

  “Okay, then let’s give you the rundown. Candies are over there. Baked items are in the glass display cases you see here, and here. And the main attraction over there.” The woman gestured toward the counter with a handful of stools. A giant chalkboard with pristine white writing hung on the wall. “All our flavors and combinations are listed there. If you have any questions at all, please let us know.”

  “Thank you. I think this’ll take a while.” Pierce snickered.

  She nudged him in the side. “Hey. This is like hitting the lottery for me.”

  “I know.” He winked.

  “Dessert for lunch? Brownie points.” She tilted her head and studied him from beneath her lashes.

  “I’m in this to win you over. All the stops are pulled out.” He leaned down and brushed her lips. The sweet sincerity thawed out her cool resolve. Women dreamed of men like this. “Come on, let’s get ice-cream wasted,” Pierce said against her lips.

  She giggled, and he pulled away, leading her to the counter.

  In the end, they decided to try the banana-split sundae for two. She watched with childlike glee as they scooped the hand-churned ice cream out of a silver bin and placed it inside a glass boat with gold etchings. The toppings were ladled across and topped with whipped cream and two cherries.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” they said in unison.

  “Ladies first,” Pierce said, offering her the first bite. She dipped her silver spoon into the picture-perfect treat and brought the sweet concoction to her lips. Flavor coated her tongue, and she moaned, closing her eyes.

  “It’s amazing.”

  “Yes, it is.” She opened her eyes and found him staring at her. Heat infused her cheeks, and she looked away. He trailed his fingers down her arm and took a bite.

  “Okay, it lives up to the hype.”

  Her admiration for him grew. He had a sense of how far to take things before he pulled back. She appreciated his gentle nudging toward more while continuing to respect her boundaries. They ate in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the brief reprieve from the mystery staring them in the face.

  Chapter Five

  With the lights dimmed for the investigation, the hotel took on an almost sinister tone. Shadows cast along the walls made ominous shapes that set him on edge. He held the EMF meter out in front of him and swept the wall on the left side in tandem to Demi, who took the right. A heaviness entered the atmosphere that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. The temperature fell. Her EMF beeped, and the buttons shifted through an array of colors.

  “Did you see that?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Do you feel the difference in here?” He scanned his side once more and came up empty.

  Her meter spiked again. He took his camera out of his pocket, powered it on, and snapped few photos of the area. “Apparently it likes you, D.”

  The light beside her went on full tilt, flickering between close your eyes and normal illumination before it returned to the dim set it’d held originally.

  “We should do an EVP.” She pulled a slim gray cylinder out of her pocket.

  “Is that you, lady in white? Can you tell us your name?” She paused.

  “Do you think we got a response?” he said. Chills covered his body. He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tight muscles.

  “I don’t know. I hope so.” Demi’s voice vibrated with excitement. She swayed, and he stepped over to catch her by the elbow.

  “Whoa. You okay?”

  “Suddenly I just got very dizzy.” She leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Pierce, look.” The fear in her voice sent a stab of uneasiness up his spine. She pointed. He followed her finger to the filmy image of a woman in a Victorian-style white dress. His stomach plummeted to the soles of his sneakers. The pale-skinned woman with sad brown eyes and dirty-blonde hair glided toward them. She hovered a few inches from them, opened her mouth, and flickered out of existence.

  “Oh, my God.” Her body shook, and he held her against him. “Maybe we should end the session for tonight.”

  “What if she has more to say?”

  “I think she’s done enough for one night.” He scanned the area warily. “Besides, the air here has changed. It’s lighter.”

  Demi quieted. “I think you’re right.”

  “Come on, let’s take a breather and monitor the video cameras we have up for a while. If we get any more hits, we can go and check it out.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Are you okay to walk?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what happened,” she said.

  “Maybe it siphoned some of your energy to make its grand appearance.”

  “Why not you?” Demi frowned.

  “Maybe it’s a woman thing?”

  They made their way to their room where they’d set up a number of camera views to toggle through.

  “You ready to call it?” he said a few hours later.

  “Yeah, I guess we’re done for the night.” Demi stretched her arms above her head, baring a tempting line of flesh above her jeans. He trailed his fingers over the smooth skin, and she shivered. Their gazes locked, and he ran his hands under her shirt, spanning her rib cage. He cupped her breasts, grazing her hardened peaks with his thumbs. “So, not done.”

  “Not even started.” Pierce winked and pinched her nipple. She jumped. “You like that, D?”

  “I don’t know. You should try it again.”

  He tweaked the opposite bud, and she purred.

  “I think you like it too much.” He caught the edges of her sweater. She lifted her arms. The fabric hit the floor, and he pushed her onto the bed, burying his face into her cleavage. She opened her legs, welcoming him into the cradle of her hips. He reached between them and unbuttoned the top of her jeans and slid his hands inside. Her wet heat greeted his fingers, and he moaned. “Before we go any further, I need to let you know I’ve got a clean bill of health.”

  “Same here.”

  “Are you on birth control?
”

  “Yes, I have an IUD.”

  “Thank God. I want to be inside you with nothing between us, D.”

  He slid his fingers inside her tight sheath, capturing her lips as she lifted her hips up to match his strokes. “So beautiful.” He watched the passion play on her face, and his heart squeezed. She was everything he’d imagined and more.

  “Pierce.” Her raspy voice filled him with a sense of pride and determination.

  “I want to write my name inside you. Give you so much pleasure, you won’t be able to walk away.”

  Her breathing sped, and he found the bundle of nerves he sought. She curled her hands into the comforter.

  “Oh God, Pierce.”

  “That’s right, baby. I’m the one making you feel this way.” Her thighs came together, and he tilted his hand, finding the spot he’d sought. Her muscles locked. Warm liquid covered his fingers. He growled in the back of his throat, pulled away, kicking off his shoes, and stripped down. Nude, he helped her shed her clothing and knelt between her legs.

  “I want to be inside you, D.” He palmed his dick, teasing her with shallow thrusts. “To feel that tight little pussy of yours around my cock.” He slipped the head inside and paused.

  “Don’t you dare stop.” Her eyes went wild, and she tried to rock her hips. He held her down onto the mattress with a firm hand on her waist.

  “I’m waiting for your answer.”

  “Yes, now.”

  He pushed inside, stretching her slowly, and they both moaned. Buried inside the woman he’d loved for years, he found heaven. They moved together like dancers who’d performed a carefully choreographed number. She met him thrust for thrust, gripping him tight with her legs and the fingers she wound around his arms. In her eyes, he saw the potential for a lifetime of happiness. They came together in an explosion that burned molten.

  * * * *

  Demi sat up in bed and glanced at the man beside her who slept soundly. Why am I awake? A look to her left at the clock beside revealed the early hour: 3:30. She sat up on the bed and frowned. Nothing looked out of place, and the room remained silent. A cold draft crept over her skin. A white cloud developed in front of her, and she rubbed her arms. She’s back. The lights flickered in the bathroom, and she stood, padding silently across the floor. Pierce wouldn’t want her to go in, and she felt compelled to do just that. Careful not to wake him, she entered the bathroom and slowly closed the door behind her. The lights came on full power, and the coldness increased in the room.

  “Hello?” she asked quietly.

  The woman appeared before her. Demi jumped. Unsure what to do next, she remained still and silent. The woman leaned forward and touched her shoulder. The room tilted on its axis, and wet cotton filled the space between her ears. Demi reached out and clutched the bathroom counter to steady herself. The sensation passed, and she opened her eyes. The scene played out in front of her on an invisible movie screen. The hotel as it once looked stood in front of her with the ghost, alive and well, though solemn. She turned to look at the apparition.

  “This is you?”

  The apparition nodded and pointed. She raced to the desk, her hair flowing behind her back.

  “Any word yet from my love?”

  “Any news from William?” the ghost asked.

  The clerk gave her a sorrow-tinged smile. “Not yet, Bronwyn.”

  “Oh.” The ghost, Bronwyn’s, face fell. “You’ll let me know when something comes in.”

  “Of course.”

  “Well I’m off to work my shift in the pub.” Bronwyn gave a wave and a forced smile before turning away from the desk and moving back down the hall. The scene replayed itself on a loop. Each time Bronwyn grew more despondent. Her skin took on an unhealthy, pale tint, and her skin stretched over knobby bones.

  “Bronwyn!” A dark-haired woman ran into the pub, waving a letter. “This just came in for you!” She waved the white envelope like a victory flag. Color rose in Bronwyn’s checks, and she walked away from the bar, snatching the letter from her friend’s hands.

  “Go ahead, open it,” the dark-haired woman said, waving her hands in excitement.

  Bronwyn tore the letter open and pulled out a beige piece of paper. Her eyes scanned the letter, and she gasped. Her body swayed. The letter fluttered to the ground.

  “Bron!”

  Bronwyn fell back into her friend’s arms, dazed and shaken. Tears rolled down her face, and her chest heaved.

  Demi glanced down at the letter. William McDaniel perished at sea. Her heart ached for the waif beside her. This was her tragedy. The death of her fiancé had trapped her in this hotel. The power love had to ruin had never been clearer. Images shifted like a flip book. Bronwyn morphed into an old woman. Stooped, alone, and followed by grief. Panic set Demi’s heart a gallop like a runaway horse. This was what she’d decided to open herself up to. The scene had played out like a ghostly movie, each shape distinct yet slightly transparent.

  An icy hand gripped her shoulders, and she jumped. Bronwyn pointed at the door.

  “You want me to follow you?”

  Bronwyn nodded and turned, pausing to look over her shoulder. She glided through the door, and Demi gathered her courage and followed behind her. Slipping out of the room unnoticed, she trailed the apparition. Benevolent and incredibly sad, the ghost, Bron, touched a soft spot inside her. How could Demi pass on the chance to end someone’s suffering? If only I had been able to do the same for my father. Memories of the slow fade after her mother’s unexpected death twisted her gut. Maybe she could make up for her own failings in some tiny way. Nothing she said had swayed him, and the uncanny resemblance had acted like a knife twisting the blade deeper into his broken heart, further shattering what was left of his spirit. They made their way down the stairs and outside the front door, wrapping around the building. When they came to the corner, Bronwyn moved forward and knelt down. She touched the brick pattern, and Demi shook her head.

  “You lost me.”

  A pained looked crossed Bronwyn’s face. Her image flickered, and one of the gray bricks moved.

  “There’s something inside.” Excitement chased away melancholy. Finally, the mystery of the white lady would be revealed. Demi rushed over and knelt beside her, removing the brick. Inside the recess, she found a faded yellow cloth. Her stomach knotted as she reached inside and pulled the lump out. She unwrapped the bundle and found a beautiful oval-shaped silver locket with floral designs carved on the shell. Her hands shook as she opened it up and found a picture of Bronwyn and a dashing man with a wicked smile, beard, and a naval uniform.

  “This is you and William.” Demi trailed her hand over the cool locket.

  Bronwyn nodded, and she smiled. Her aura seemed to lighten as she stood. Her corporeal form began to fade away, and Demi knew she’d helped her move on. The scent of roses filled the area, and tears ran down her cheeks. She held her waist and cried for her father and Bronwyn.

  “Demi, what the hell are you doing out here?”

  She jumped and turned to see Pierce walking toward her. His anger morphed to worry. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “The ghost, her name was Bronwyn, and she lost her fiancé to the sea. She’s been stuck here all this time because of this.” She held out the locket.

  “What? How do you know that?”

  “She showed me. It was amazing, Pierce.”

  “Wait. You followed a ghost out here, in the middle of the night?”

  She bit her lower lip and nodded.

  “Are you out of your mind?” His voice rose.

  “Calm down. I’m fine.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, stilling his agitated movements.

  “You could’ve been seriously injured,” Pierce said.

  “She wouldn’t do that,” Demi said.

  “You don’t know that,” Pierce growled.

  “I did. It was a gut feeling.” She shook her head. “I can’t really explain it. Either way she’s gone now. Can’t you tel
l?”

  “No. And I don’t like how fast you got attached to her.” He sighed. “Do you know how terrified I was when I woke up and found you gone? I thought she possessed you and had you off doing God knows what.”

  “Possession is actually very rare.”

  “Uh-huh, that’s what the small percent who end up possessed tell themselves.” Pierce rolled his eyes.

  “We’ll contain the energy in the locket to make sure she’s at peace, and then we’ll be 100 percent sure it’s over. I’ve seen it with a lot of haunted-items collectors. They encase the object in certain materials to keep the energy in check and the haunting spirit at peace.”

  He ground his teeth. “Tell me what we need to do.”

  Chapter Six

  Pierce held the necklace swaddled in cloth out in front of him like a snake ready to turn and sink its fangs in. What began as a fun trip had taken a dark turn when they found more than they expected. Demi thought she’d helped the ghost. He wasn’t so sure. The feeling of eyes watching him persisted even now. His hair stood up on the back of his neck, and he fought the urge to look around. When they’d reviewed the footage the next morning, he’d been stunned. The apparition appeared as clear as day. The EVPs were equally incredible. They could hear the words “Bronwyn Brown” as clear as day. Research confirmed Demi’s theory. They needed to bind the locket’s energy and seal it tight or destroy it. A long talk with management had brought them to this moment. They were meeting with a local priest who’d bind the energy with a powerful blessing, and then the locket would be placed beneath a glass dome, where it’d be displayed in the hotel, an homage to the woman with so many unrealized dreams.

  “It’s not going to bite you,” Demi said. The teasing lilt to her words made him frown.

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Why won’t you let this go?” She sighed.

  “Because it was too cut-and-dried. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that’s how they lull you into a false sense of security.”

  “Oh, come on.” She threw her hands up in the air.

  “This isn’t like the show, Demi. We’re in way over our heads.”