Restless Spirits

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Restless Spirits Page 5

by Michelle Scott


  Ethan’s jaw muscles bunched. “You want me to lie to her?”

  Grant chuckled. “You and I both know there’s no lie involved. This psychic thing you have going – that’s the lie.”

  “It’s not a lie.”

  “That’s not what the Ladds are saying.”

  The name drove a spike through Ethan’s innards. He should have known that Grant would find out about them.

  “You didn’t think I’d allow someone into my home without checking him out first, did you?” Muir turned to the computer on his desk. He clamped his cigar between his teeth, pulled up Google, and clicked on the first link. With a sinking feeling, Ethan saw that it was the Tribune article that had made him notorious. “Desperate parents seek psychic advice,” Muir read. He looked at Ethan over the tops of his glasses. “Care to explain?”

  “It’s all right there,” Ethan said bitterly.

  “Yes, but I want to hear it from you.”

  Of course he did. Sadistic bastard. “Last year, a little girl went missing. It was all over the news. Kennedy Ladd. She disappeared from her home in the middle of the night. The screen in her bedroom window had been cut open, but there weren’t any other clues.”

  Ethan gripped the arms of the chair he sat in. This was the part of the story he dreaded. “When I saw the story on TV, I figured I could help. The parents didn’t know if their daughter was dead or alive, and it was driving them crazy. I reached out to the spirit world to try and find their little girl, and I did.” He swallowed. “She was dead.”

  Grant blew out another cloud of smoke. “You were too late to save her.”

  Ethan ground his teeth. “I should have come forward earlier, but I kept thinking the police would find her.” He’d been afraid, too. Afraid that he wouldn’t be taken seriously. Afraid that he’d be sent back to the treatment center for more medication and psychic evaluations. But after three days of watching the Ladds become more and more desperate, he’d finally broken down and contacted them. Unfortunately, it was too late. It was a mistake he couldn’t forgive himself for.

  “And now they’re threatening legal action.”

  “Yes,” Ethan said miserably.

  Grant leaned back in his chair. “And that’s what brings you to me, isn’t it?”

  Ethan was buried in bills, and if the Ladds decided to sue him – even if it was a bogus lawsuit in a civil court – he’d have to scrape up the money for an attorney. All because he wanted to help a pair of grieving parents.

  “Why did you reach out to them in the first place?” Grant asked. “Were you hoping for a reward?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why not? You have a college degree, but no real job. Your student loans must be killing you.”

  Ethan clenched his jaw. He wished he could deny it, but he couldn’t. How far had Grant dug into his personal life? “It wasn’t the money,” he said evenly.

  “Fame then. That’s what you wanted. So maybe you could become Chicago’s celebrity psychic. A superstar who charges $1,400 an hour for a reading?”

  Ethan gripped the armrests of the chair he sat on. “No!”

  “You knew you had two options. Either the little girl was alive or she wasn’t. So you flipped a coin and picked heads when you should have picked tails.”

  “I didn’t – ” Ethan realized he was shouting and lowered his voice. “I didn’t flip a coin. I spoke to Kennedy, and she told me that she was gone.”

  “You don’t have to pretend for my sake. I’m not planning to sue you.”

  Ethan burst from his chair. “I’m not pretending! If you don’t believe me, I can leave right now.”

  “You can’t leave,” Grant said calmly. “Your car is wrapped around a tree, remember?”

  Ethan flexed his hands, wishing for something to punch. Muir had trapped him like a fly in a spider’s web.

  “Don’t worry, Ethan. I’ve taken care of the car. It’s been towed into town and is being repaired. I also fully intend to make your financial worries go away. If you tell my wife what she needs to hear.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Grant’s chair snapped forward and he planted his hands on his desk. “Don’t try me. I am not a patient man. If you even hint to my wife that she’s truly seeing ghosts, I’ll bury you so deep that even your own family won’t be able to find you.”

  Ethan swallowed. The man was ruthless. Ethan had been wrong not to fear him. “I understand.”

  “Good. I’ll let you talk to Tessa later on today. Until then, stay out of my way.” Grant turned his back on Ethan and brooded out the windows at the gloomy shoreline. Interview over.

  After some searching, Ethan found his room. He threw himself into a chair and stared at the empty fireplace. Grant had prodded so many sore spots that Ethan felt bruised. It wasn’t just the newspaper story – anyone with a working computer and Internet could have found that – it was the implication that Ethan had gone into the Ladd affair with bad intentions. Grant had brought back the thoughts that had tormented Ethan all along. The doubt over whether or not he’d done the right thing. The sorrow that he hadn’t saved Kennedy. The shame of having the press sling mud at his name. He put his hands to his forehead. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to outrun his reputation, but he didn’t want his nose rubbed in it, either.

  To calm down, Ethan turned to his guitar. He sat on the bed and after tuning the instrument, he strummed a few chords. Then he launched into a Dave Matthews song he had learned.

  A knock at the door stopped him mid-chord. David stood there, toolbox in hand. He nodded at the guitar in Ethan’s hand. “That was you playing? I thought it was a recording. You’ve really gotten good since college.”

  Ethan smiled. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing a lot.” A lot as in nearly every moment he wasn’t working. He’d thrown himself into his music after David had wrenched himself out of Ethan’s life. It worked like meditation, soothing the raw emotions in a way that nothing else could, filling him up with something other than anger or sorrow.

  “Can you play Under the Dreaming Tree?” The Dave Matthews Band was one of the things that had helped to cement their friendship.

  Ethan hesitated. Unless he had a few beers in him, playing for an audience was way out of his comfort zone. But David had heard him play plenty of times. He strummed a few random chords to give himself courage then began the song.

  David put down his toolbox and sat on one of the chairs. He listened intently, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, and his chin resting on a fist. A secret smile played on his lips. His rapt attention gave Ethan more courage and let him relax. His fingers moved easily, coaxing music from the strings as if by magic. He drew out the song, embellishing the melody until every phrase was a musical caress. David closed his eyes, and sat perfectly still. The music was a tie binding them together.

  When Ethan finished the song, David said, “That was amazing!”

  At the praise, Ethan’s cheeks grew warm. “Thanks.”

  “I remember when you used to play back in school. Especially after you’d had a few beers. Remember that song you made up about Professor Samson? Everyone thought it was hysterical. It still makes me laugh.”

  It had happened at one of Omega Nu’s rare parties. A Halloween celebration that Ethan would never forget. Even now, the memory of it put a pleasant tension in his lower belly. “I’m surprised you remember anything about that night. What between the beers and the shots.”

  “I don’t remember much, but I remember that song. It was funny as hell.”

  “You don’t recall anything else?” Ethan asked, stung. Maybe that night hadn’t been as important to David as it had been to him.

  David frowned, trying to recall. “I remember my costume. I was cheerleader, and Ashleigh was a football player. It’s the same night she got so pissed at me, and we broke up.”

  Ethan would never forget that, either. When Ashleigh had seen her boyfriend with his arms around Ethan, she’d slap
ped him and stormed out of the frat house. “Don’t you recall why she got so angry?” David had to remember! Ethan would be crushed if he didn’t. That night meant more to him than any other night before or since.

  David’s puzzled expression melted into one of understanding. “Oh. That was the night that we –” He broke off.

  Ethan’s heart seemed to have stopped beating. His lungs held no air. “The night we first kissed. Yes.”

  David leaned back in the chair. A flush crept up his neck. “How could I ever have forgotten that?” he asked softly. He touched his lips as if feeling Ethan’s kiss once again.

  “It was a very special night for me,” Ethan said.

  “It was for me, too.” But David wasn’t smiling. “It was something I had wanted to do since I’d met you. But –”

  That tiny word sunk like a stone into the pit that was Ethan’s stomach.

  “But I was confused,” David continued. He looked at his hands. “I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Things got mixed up.”

  “For eighteen months?” Ethan asked. He couldn’t keep the sharp edge out of his voice. “You were completely confused for a year and a half?”

  David jerked as if he’d been stabbed. “I know I was wrong to leave you like that, and I’m sorry. I completely admit that I was an ass.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But I think I was wrong about who I was. What I was.” His eyes pleaded with Ethan. “I still don’t understand it.”

  “There’s nothing to understand,” Ethan said. “Just embrace what you feel.”

  “What I feel is conflicted. I mean, I have a girlfriend now, and I think I love her.” David continued to frown. “That means I’m straight, right?”

  “It means you care about someone. There’s nothing wrong with that. My best friend is a girl, and I love her very much. But not in the way I love –” Ethan nearly bit his tongue. He’d almost said ‘you’. He needed to shut that down right away, or David would leave. He seemed ready to leave as it was. “There are different kinds of love,” he finished.

  “I know.”

  Ethan wanted to shake some sense into his friend. He knew that David’s feelings for him were just below the surface. If only David would break free from his parents’ indoctrination! Unfortunately, Ethan also knew that he couldn’t force David to accept the truth. He needed to figure it out on his own.

  Instead of pressing the issue, Ethan broke the tension with a smile. “How about fixing that sink?”

  David’s eyes brightened. “Plumbing wizard at your service.” He stood and grabbed a wrench from the toolbox. The two of them went to the bathroom. David turned on the light and hesitated in the doorway. “This is where you saw your ghost.”

  “That’s right.”

  David gazed at the room, as if picturing the scene. “What do you think happened to her?”

  “I’m pretty sure that she drowned.”

  “How sad,” David murmured. “I wonder if she’s one of the voices that Tessa hears.”

  “Maybe. How is your sister this morning?”

  “Tired. But that just might be the medicine. She doesn’t remember much about last night.” David set down his toolbox and knelt in front of the sink. Ethan leaned on the door jam, watching. David had a broad back and wide shoulders. His hands were rough and calloused, no strangers to hard work.

  Ethan had a sudden urge to lay his hand on David’s back and feel the muscles hidden by that T-shirt. He hadn’t been in a relationship for a very long time. Considering the hours he put in at work, there hadn’t been time. And to be honest, there hadn’t been anyone he’d wanted to connect with. Most men wouldn’t take his spiritual side seriously, or if they did, they tended to have their own issues with reality. But David was different. He’d always been special that way.

  “Can you get me that bucket by my toolbox?”

  “Sure.” Embarrassed to be caught thinking about David’s chest and shoulders, Ethan’s voice came out more like a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No problem.”

  He was back with the bucket in a minute. David stuck it under the sink and picked up the wrench to loosen the pipe.

  “How long are you planning to stay at this house?” Ethan asked.

  David grunted and gave the pipe a final twist, taking it completely off. Dirty water sluiced into the bucket. "I’m not sure. As long as Tessa needs me, I guess. But it’s not a great place to be. Big old manor out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing to look at but the lake and sky. It gets pretty lonely."

  "Ever think of leaving?"

  David gave a bitter laugh. "Only always. But there's Tessa to consider. I can't leave her behind."

  "So take her with you."

  David shook his head. "She'd never leave her husband."

  Ethan tried to imagine what it would mean to be married to Grant Muir. The man was petty and controlling. He enjoyed mind games. No wonder Tessa had been in such a state the night before. And no wonder that David didn't want to leave his sister at the house alone. He was probably the only one keeping her safe from Muir's manipulations.

  A soft knock the door brought Ethan out of his reverie. Tessa, dressed in a soft yellow sweater and jeans, stood at the door. Seeing Ethan, she looked confused. "Ethan?” Then a smile eclipsed her face. “You’re here! Thank you so much for coming.” She hugged him warmly.

  “It’s good to see you, too,” Ethan said. Although, her frail form and pale face were alarming. As was the fact that she didn’t remember seeing him the night before.

  “Does David know you’re here?”

  “Yes. In fact, he’s fixing the sink." Ethan stepped aside to let her into the room.

  "David?" Tessa walked into the bathroom. "Are you going into town today? I need you to mail something for me."

  David tipped the U-shaped pipe over the pail. "I wasn't planning on it. Why don't you drive there yourself? It might do you some good to get away for a while."

  "Grant doesn't want me driving while I'm taking these pills. They make my head woolly." Tessa pulled on the watch she was wearing. "Please, David. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

  "I guess I could do it later on this evening."

  This time when he saw the two of them next to each other, Ethan picked up on the family resemblance. Both had the same thick, dark hair and aquiline nose. Their eyes were the same startling blue. But what appeared sweet and feminine on Tessa looked rugged on David.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Ethan asked Tessa. “I wanted to know about the voices you hear.”

  Tessa’s eyes were large. She seemed like a deer that might be easily spooked and run away. “Yes, I suppose we could do that now.”

  David gave the pipe a final shake and something slid out and plopped into the bucket of water. "What's this?" he asked, surprised. He reached in and pulled out a silver chain so small and delicate that it would have fit a baby.

  Tessa gasped and put her hand over her mouth. She backed away as if seeing a ghost. "It's the necklace. The one Grant gave to me when Faith was born."

  "Are you all right?" Ethan asked, worried. Tessa's pale face had gone the color of skim milk.

  David rushed to his sister's side and eased her onto the bed. "It's okay."

  Tessa took the chain from David and rubbed it between her fingers. "How could it have gotten in there?" she whispered.

  "I don't know, but at least you have it back."

  Tessa was biting her lower lip as if struggling not to cry. "This belonged to my daughter." She let the chain dangle from her fingers. "The last time I saw it, it was around her neck. She was in her casket.” Her eyes were as bewildered as a frightened child. “David, this necklace was buried with my daughter.”

  Chapter Six

  A sharp knock at the bedroom door roused Ethan who had been sitting on the floor with his Scrabble tiles trying to get the spirit to speak to him again. He was only too glad for the interruption. He’d been at the meditation for almost an hour with nothing t
o show for it but a stiff back. The house’s ghost might have been eager to put on a show earlier, but she wasn’t responding to Ethan’s attempts to contact her now. No doubt he was too anxious. Generally, the spirits approached him only when he didn’t try so hard. Seeing them was like trying to look at something from the corner of his eye. If he stared at it full on, it disappeared.

  Stretching his back, Ethan answered the door. An older woman with a head of iron-gray curls and an armload of fresh towels stood at the door. “I’m Annie Roberts, the Muirs’ housekeeper,” she explained. She walked stiffly when she came into the room, as if her back was bothering her. “I thought I’d clean up while you were eating lunch.”

  Ethan took the towels from her. “Thanks, but you don’t need to do anything. I already made the bed.”

  “Aren’t you the neat one?” Annie nodded her approval at the precisely-folded towels hanging in the bathroom. “Some people in this house could learn a thing or two from you.”

  Ethan’s mind immediately went to David whose sloppy habits had, at times, driven him crazy. If David had wanted to please him, he’d make his own bed or clean the bathroom sink. The memory gave Ethan an inward smile.

  Annie took the dirty towels from the towel bar. “Do you have everything you need? Are you warm enough? I could get you an extra blanket if you’d like.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You’re David’s friend, aren’t you? The psychic?”

  “That’s right.” With her solid frame and practical shoes, Annie looked like a no-nonsense woman. Ethan braced himself, wondering if Annie would launch into a lecture about how there were no such things as ghosts, or that believing in the paranormal was sinful.

  To his relief, she did neither. She simply gave a noncommittal nod and left the bathroom. In the bedroom, she paused to sniff the air. “I aired this room for an entire day before you got here, but the place still smells like my grandma’s attic.”

 

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