Poltergeist Party Girls

by M J Waverly

  “It is not my place to reveal their identity.” Rudolph turned and watched a crow which had flown down from the Crooked Spoons roof and onto the grass and strutted close to us.

  "You'll figure it out soon enough. All the clues are in place." He shooed at the crow. It cawed and flew to the top of his statue. "Blasted bird."

  Vampires lived in Cloverville. I had enough on my plate dealing with ghosts. “Do I need to worry about these vampires?”

  “The one I know is nice and well-educated,” Rudolph answered.

  I wasn't quite sure who Rudolph meant, but right now I needed more information on Dr. Smith’s murder. “Did the crows tell you who murdered Dr. Smith?” I sipped my coffee. The warm liquid warmed my throat and chased away the cold pooling within.

  “No.”

  “Can you ask them?” I motioned toward the crow on Rudolph’s statue.

  "I did. The arrogant birds claimed they didn't see anyone."

  “Will Ingrid remember?”

  Rudolph shrugged. “Unfortunately, when someone dies in a traumatic situation they won't remember in the early days. Her memories could surface in time, and if she does remember she may go after her murderer for vengeance, and this could attract a dark and evil entity.”

  “What dark entity?” I asked. Could this dark entity have been the hooded creature from my encounter last night? My stomach shriveled at the thought.

  Rudolph drifted a couple of inches from the bench. “Your grandmother knew of it. She used magic to keep it at bay and even battled it. Have you found Elizabeth’s Book of Shadows?” His face grew pensive.

  “No.” I raised my voice.

  Rudolph floated above me, looking down at me with a blue fire glowing in his eyes.

  Surprised at his reaction, I remained calm. "That's surprising."

  "You must find it. The spells within the book were used by your grandmother to cast protection, and help maintained a balance between the Void and the Bright Side."

  I leaned against the bench for support and firmly gripped my coffee before I dropped it. “I had no idea Nana maintained balance and cast protection spells against evil entities. She never taught me, or my sisters about magic. What I know, I have learned on my own, and it’s been a crash course.”

  Rudolph lowered himself back onto the bench next to me. Suddenly cold, I blew out puffs of chilled air. A mist formed in front of my face.

  "Elizabeth honored your mother's wishes not to teach you or your sisters about magic or ghosts. Sadly, this left you ill-prepared for the challenges you must face since her disappearance or her death."

  Heat rushed to my face chasing the chill away. “Nana is not dead. I would have felt it. She’s alive, and I will find her.”

  “You will need her Book of Shadows to find her. Have you asked your sisters?”

  “Yes.” I had a suspicion Rudolph considered me a slacker. “They don’t know, but they would like to find it, too.”

  "What about your mother? She could have hidden it." Rudolph wasn't as robust as he had been a few minutes, ago.

  I stared at and through him. "Mom could have it, and not know what it is. I told her last night I saw ghosts. She was upset."

  Rudolph stared straight ahead. “I’m sure she wasn’t happy to hear your news.”

  “No.”

  “She always ignored her magical ability.”

  “Mom doesn’t have magical ability.”

  If Mom had abilities, she had kept them hidden my entire life.

  “Yes, she does like your Uncle Joe.”

  “Uncle Joe?”

  “He’s very talented at finding missing people and locating criminals. It’s more than luck. Speaking of your Uncle Joe.” Rudolph motioned at the parking lot.

  A dark brown sheriff's patrol car parked next to my truck. The door opened, and Uncle Joe's head emerged. He stood up, placed his hat on his head, and then scanned the town square.

  We made eye contact, he waved and headed my way. I hoped it was a family visit and not about Dr. Smith.

  “Ask him about the Book of Shadows?” Rudolph faded out.

  "Sidney, we need to talk.” Uncle Joe's eyebrows drew together as he squinted at Rudolph.

  The crows flew from the rooftop of Fred’s Fine Frames over to the Shirley’s Dress Shop and squawked in a raucous conversation.

  “About what?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual and calm.

  He scuffed the toe of his cowboy boot in the lawn. Clearing his throat, he seemed unable to find the words he wanted to speak.

  I drank another sip of my coffee. Rudolph scooted over.

  “I talked to your mother last night, and she told me what I suspected.”

  “About what?” Sidney asked.

  Uncle Joe squirmed uncomfortably on the bench between Rudolph and me.

  “I know you’re like Nana, and you can speak to the ghosts.” He said it all in one long sentence and blew out a long breath as if he had done something he had dreaded to ask.

  Did they consider a suspect? Panic filled me as I tried to think of what I did when I found Dr. Smith’s body. I had been careful, only making sure to check for a pulse.

  “When you talked to Dr. Smith, did she mention any other ghosts or spirits?” Uncle Joe asked.

  I nodded, relieved at his question. "Yes, Dr. Smith sensed dark energy."

  Uncle Joe’s mouth thinned.

  “Why?

  “I can’t tell you right now, but it’s something our new coroner has never seen.”

  “Can you see Emma Bailey?” He asked.

  “Yes.” I tossed my hair back across my shoulders.

  Uncle Joe straightened. “Did she see anything?”

  “She came to me at the house to let me know something had happened to Dr.

  Smith. She took possession of Ava.”

  Uncle Joe widened his eyes. “How did Ava react?”

  “She doesn’t remember it happening. It was really freaky.”

  “I didn’t know Emma traveled.”

  “Traveling? Is that what you call it when a ghost can change locations?” I sat back against the bench. How much did Mom and Uncle Joe know about Nana’s ghost dealings?”

  “It’s how your Nana explained it.”

  “That is a new one. So much is new.” I rubbed the back of my neck where a tight pain clenched my muscles.

  Uncle Joe placed a hand on my shoulder. “Be careful. Something is off magically around here. With Mom’s disappearance, it’s more dangerous than ever. In fact, it would be better if you didn’t talk or acknowledge any of the ghosts.”

  “What do you know about the murder of the sorority sisters?” I asked. I hoped to catch my usually in-control and calm Uncle Joe off guard, hoping he’d reveal some information to me in solving their murders.

  "Sidney, if they have contacted you, stay away. You're delving into things that are beyond your understanding, and this is a good example why your mother didn't want you involved. It’s dangerous.”

  “I need to know.”

  "No. Stay away from the sorority. The girls still have enemies in this town, and someone or something will do anything to keep their secrets buried. There are evil people, who would think nothing of killing you."

  I flinched.

  My phone dinged, and I looked at it. Jason.

  “This is my new job.”

  Uncle Joe stood. “I need to get to the station. But, if you need anything, or learn something new, call me.”

  “I will.”

  Meet me at the college library at ten.

  Inside my truck, I waited for Jason at the school campus library. Uncle Joe had clammed up about the sorority sisters. But his warning rang in my head like song lyrics that wouldn’t stop. ‘Stay away. They still have enemies in this town.’

  Who? What did he mean?

  Emma would possibly have some answers, depending on her mood. If she was in a down cycle, then forget it. She would drift morosely on the ceiling. Dr. Smith might know somethin
g. I would talk to each of the ghosts after this visit to the library.

  A green van parked beside my truck. For the first time today, I smiled. I caught myself waving like I did when I was a teenager when Anderson Linn acknowledged my presence at my locker. I lowered my hand as Camden’s handsome face flashed in my mind, and then my stomach clenched. This job was about business.

  Jason waved, opened his door, holding up a tray of coffees. He pointed at my passenger side door, and I unlocked it.

  He slipped inside. “Good Morning.”

  “Good Morning. Technically, I’m being paid for this time at the library, right?”

  I accepted the coffee.

  Good looking or not, I had to know if this little trip would be compensated because I needed money. The funds from my Florida surf shop job were dwindling quickly. My bank account was down to twenty-eight dollars after putting gas into the truck.

  "Yes. Don't worry. This research trip is to discover more about the sorority sisters. I have a hunch this is where we should start." Jason gestured at the library.

  “Is that part of your abilities? Hunches?” I removed the lid on my cup and blew on the hot coffee.

  “Yes. I get this feeling about things. A knowing, and it’s usually on the money.” He turned away as if he was uncomfortable talking about his abilities.

  “My sisters call it my ghostie senses. Must be part of the psychic-I-see-dead people package I inherited in the family DNA.”

  He snorted. “What are your abilities?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Is this part of the job qualifications, or I’ll-show-you-mine- -if –you-show-me-your-ability-get-to-know-you-thing?”

  Jason's lips quirked up, and dimples popped out. "I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show me yours."

  “I can see and talk to ghosts,” I said. “Sometimes, I get the hunch thing, too.” I didn’t know if I should tell him about my telekinesis, or about my grandmother. I would see how the morning and how we progressed. I liked Jason, but not sure if I trusted him. Camden had ruined that for me.

  Jason took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window.

  I sensed apprehension. He could have the same trust issues about me as I did with him. Ava had mentioned he’d experienced a bad break-up.

  “I can hear, and until recently see ghosts.” He spoke in a low tone, almost inaudible.

  “Really? When did that happen?”

  “The day you walked into the sorority house.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Anything else?” I cut a side glance at him.

  He had done the same. He turned, and we held each other’s gaze. It was as if we were waiting for the other one to be the first.

  Jason wasn't Camden. This investigation wasn't about writing, but about ghosts and our abilities.

  “I moved some objects with my hand when I concentrate. Sometimes it works, sometimes, it doesn’t.”

  Jason’s face relaxed. “Me, too. Telekinesis.”

  Relief flowed through me.

  “What is this?” I waved my hand around. “Ghosts? Cloverville? Abilities?”

  “I don’t know. My Mom had magical abilities, but Dad won’t talk about it. She even had a book of magic.

  “A Book of Shadows?” I blurted out before I had a chance to even think about what I was saying.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “My grandmother had one.”

  “Do you have it?” Jason raised his eyebrows.

  I shook my head. “I’m trying to find it. It seems it has disappeared just like my grandmother.” My voice dropped as an ache hit me in my chest.

  Jason reached out and squeezed my hand. "My mom died in a car crash several years ago, but I know it wasn't an accident."

  “I’m sorry. Do you think it has anything to do with the sorority sisters?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I have this hunch it does, but I don’t know how to put the missing puzzle pieces together.

  “I’m the same way with my Nana’s disappearance.”

  He pointed at the library. "Let's start our investigation into the sorority sisters, and maybe it will lead us to answers about my Mom and your Nana."

  “Agreed.” We tapped our coffee cups against one another.

  Ten

  When we entered the library, Snowball materialized on a Cloverville Community College historical display featuring photos and memorabilia like old trophies, footballs, and yearbooks.

  Books lined tall shelves, but in one corner computers hooked up, and from the screens, most everyone seemed lost in whatever they were researching or doing. Students sat around at corner tables with their books and laptops. It was very quiet, no one dare speak, let alone breathe.

  I cut my eyes at the cat, and she swished her tail back and forth. Jason turned in the direction where I stared. “What is it?”

  “Snowball is here,” I said.

  “Who is Snowball?” Jason narrowed his eyes.

  "The ghost cat," I mumbled.

  “This could get interesting,” He darted his eyes around. “Any other ghosts, here?”

  I shook my head. After Emma’s surprise visit and taking over my sister’s body, the sorority sister ghosts dream visits, and the recent death of Dr. Smith, I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a supernatural incident.

  Can I help you?" A bird-like woman glowered from behind a large wooden counter that reminded me of a judge's bench. Alice Hartley was written on a plaque. Must be her.

  "Hi, we need help with a research project." I smiled with my nicest-but-fake-megawatt grin. I'd learn how to perfect it in Los Angeles, especially during job interviews.

  Jason pretended to be checking out the history of Cloverville display. Snowball stared directly at him, but he couldn’t see her because his hand passed through the cat’s body.

  Alice Hartley peered at us through some big ass glasses time warped directly from the eighties

  I’m working on a history assignment.” I stepped up.

  “Pertaining to what?”

  I leaned forward. "About the incident that took place thirty years ago."

  Alice Hartley wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “I don’t think that is a suitable subject for research.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to help us if we need information?” I asked. My patience level was about to tank.

  Alice arched an eyebrow. “Martha will you take them to the archives.”

  Martha seemed like somebody’s sweet grandma. She wore a pearl necklace, sensible leather shoes, and a blue linen dress and a white button-up sweater.

  She waved a brown-spotted and arthritic hand. “Follow me. I’ll show the archives room where we keep the old school photos and yearbooks.

  We followed her down into the basement of the library. Dank and musty smells clogged my nose. I sneezed as Jason brushed away some cobwebs.

  "The archives room is environmentally controlled." Martha flicked on a light switch, and light slowly illuminated the room.

  I glimpsed Snowball weaving in and out of the archived files down in the wooden file boxes.

  “How long has this stuff been down here?” I swiped at a cobweb.

  "Some records go back for to the town founder, Rudolph Clover.” Martha adjusted her pearl necklace. "You know the sorority sisters aren't the only ghosts who supposedly haunt the college," Martha whispered in a low voice.

  “Really? You have other ghosts on campus.”

  “Yes, we do. We have the ghost of Emma Bailey, who supposedly committed suicide when her fiancée broke up with her.”

  “That’s sad.”

  "It's regrettable indeed, and those poor girls died in their prime before they could live life, know love, and have a family." Martha patted her hand against her chest. Tears glimmered in her eyes. "A tragedy to die so young when life is ahead of you."

  I liked Martha. She cared about people.

  Martha pointed upstairs. “Did you know Alice knew the sorority sisters? She was in Delta Beta Alpha Nu.

>   "No. I didn't." This piece of news was interesting.

  Martha leaned forward as if she didn’t want anyone to overhear. “Yes. She was best friends with Kara Ross, Jeannie Powell, and Mary Turner. Alice had a hard time after Kara stole her boyfriend.”

  "That's terrible. Who was Alice's boyfriend?" I had to keep the excitement out of my voice. Martha was the first person, who had real information into the sorority sisters.

  “Sheriff Fred Barnes. He left Alice for Jeannie Powell. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but the girls had a reputation for not being very nice.”

  “They were mean girls?” I asked.

  “Yes, I guess you could say they were mean girls.” Martha pursed her lips.

  I didn’t sense this from the sorority sisters, but if they’d been mean to their sorority sisters and pushed someone to the edge, then it was possible the murderer was a sorority sister. Alice?

  “Where do we start?” I asked.

  Snowball materialized in front of an old huge wooden filing case. The cat could be directing me to what I needed.

  I bent down, and opened the filing cabinet with the label nineteen eighty-two, the same year the party girls disappeared. I opened it, pulled out a yearbook, and files with photographs along with newspaper articles about Cloverville College.

  “You can start with this.” I handed Jason the green faux leather yearbook with a gold embossed valley tucked between two mountains.

  I grabbed a stack of papers and placed them on a side table in the room. I reached for some files with Important Events on the tab. Snowball playfully tapped at the paper with her paw.

  “What’s that?” Jason asked as he thumbed through the yearbook.”

  "Important events. I think the girls were popular at school and involved with significant social events.

  "Found them." Jason walked across the table to me and revealed the photograph. "They were on the student council."

  There was a photograph of the girls along with some other students.

  I read their names, and I couldn’t believe it. “Fred Barnes, Valerie Brock, Ingrid Smith, and Alice Hartley. Martha was right. Dr. Smith was on the student council with the sorority sisters. My ghostie senses tingled: there was a connection between Ingrid Smith and the sorority sisters.