End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (30 page)

BOOK: End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1)
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Chapter Sixty-Six

 

Eric’s Jeep was parked in
one of my two reserved spots and I pulled in next to it. He leaned against the
hood, with his arms crossed, watching me. The parking lot lights overhead made
the shadows on his face darker and it was difficult to read his expression.
When I stepped out and moved towards him, he smiled. The white of his teeth
broke through the shadows.

“There you are. I didn’t
think you were going to show.”

“Well, I do live here.”

He laughed and reached
for the waist on my jeans, pulling me closer. He leaned in for a kiss, but I
put my hands up on his chest and stopped him.

“What is it?’

“Exactly. What is going
on here? Have you stopped to think about this?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about
it all right,” he said and tried leaning in again. I took a step backwards out
of his clutches.

“Same here and I’m not
ready.”

“Elena, come on. We still
have something between us. I know you feel it too.”

“I admit I have feelings
for you, Eric, but hurt and anger is mixed in there too. Plus, after what you
just witnessed, I thought you’d be thinking about the ghosts and not about
getting in my pants.” 

He groaned and like a
petulant child, sunk back against the front of his car again with his arms crossed.
I half expected him to pout.

“Fine. Let’s talk about
them.”

“Not if you don’t want
to,” I said and started to walk towards my apartment. I was disappointed, but
not surprised, at Eric’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Elena, come on.” Before
I knew it, he was next to me. His hand lightly touched my arm in an attempt to
slow me down.

“No!” I shook him off and
kept walking. He followed me up the stairs and I reluctantly let him in my
apartment because I didn’t want to create a scene outside. I didn’t say anything
to him as I set my bag on one of the dining room chairs, hanging my purse on
the back. I went into the kitchen and got a bottle of water out of the
refrigerator. Eric watched my movements from the entryway. After draining
almost the entire bottle, I moved past him and sat down at the dinette table,
gesturing for him to join me.

Eric sat across from me
and pulled the file folder out of my bag by the corner that was sticking up out
the unzipped pocket. He flipped it open and read through its contents again.
After reading through once, he went back to Georgia’s information, intent upon
the pictures. I knew he was analyzing everything captured in the images from
the position of Georgia’s body to the rocks in the background landscape.

“They never found out who
did this?”

“No.”

“Well, have you asked
her?”

“She didn’t know them.
They were just some guys she hitched a ride with.”

“Them?” Eric was quiet as
this new piece of information sunk in. He fidgeted with the papers, rolling the
edges then flattening them out again. “Okay, I can see why you’re intrigued.”

“It’s more than that,
Eric. I could be in a burn unit or worse if not for them. I don’t expect you to
help because you don’t owe them anything. I just want you to understand why I’m
doing this…and to keep it under wraps. Can you do that for me?”

“That’s where you’re
wrong. They saved you so I do owe them.” He stared at me and reached across the
table for my hand. “I still care about you, Elena and yes, this will stay
between you and me.”

“You care about me?” I
glanced down at his hand on mine.

“I never stopped, Elena.
I know I’ve been an asshole, but that’s the only way I can deal with us not
being together. Let me help you with this, you don’t have do it alone.”

I was completely
unprepared for Eric’s declaration and his total 180 flip on wanting to help me.
It was too much to process. I slipped my hand out from under his as his touch
was distracting.

“Actually someone else
has offered to help and I’m going to accept,” I said and looked up at him. His
expression hardened and he narrowed his eyes.

“Really – who?”

I told him about Gavin
and his connection to the ghosts.

Eric leaned back in his
chair and let out a sigh. “It seems like you have it all figured out.”

“Not really, but it’s a
start.”

“Well, good luck.” He
stood up and pushed the chair in.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, apparently you
don’t need me, Elena. As usual you have everything covered. I’ll see you around,”
he said and left. I shook my head and threw a pen across the room; it smacked
against the closed front door and dropped to the floor.

I wasn’t rejecting him,
but apparently he thought I was. Our wires were permanently crossed.

 

 

 

Chapter Sixty-Seven
 

 

Out of irritation towards
Eric, and sheer stubbornness, I called Gavin later that night and accepted his
offer. We made arrangements to meet the following Sunday afternoon on the side
of I-17. Gavin assured me he knew exactly where. He said he’d never forget the
spot where his brother died.

That Sunday I arrived
first and parked as far over in the clearing as possible. I pulled my hair back
in a ponytail and put on more sunscreen. Even though it was late September, the
sun still beat down unmercifully and the thermometer in my car was registering
92 degrees. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the heat before opening
the door. Lawrence was waiting for me.

“Hello, Elena.”

“Hi.”

“We were worried you
weren’t going to come back.”

“Tobin’s brother is
meeting me here. I accepted his offer to help.”

Lawrence smiled and
briefly flashed brighter. “Excellent, I know the others will be pleased as
well.”

“Still no promises
though,” I said.

“You’ve done more for me
than I could have dreamed, Elena. Learning about my family’s legacy means so
much.” I could tell. The heaviness that hung about him was gone.

“It didn’t do the trick
as I hoped, but we’ll keep trying.” I actually sounded optimistic and Lawrence
flickered brighter again.

A dented late model Volkswagen
Jetta pulled off the highway and came to a sputtering stop behind us. I
recognized Gavin and walked over to greet him. He got out of his car and opened
up the trunk, pulling out a hard black case and a small maroon duffel bag with
the gold ASU logo on the side.

“What’s all that?” I
asked.

“Film equipment – where
should I set up?”

“Uh, I guess over here.”
Gavin followed me to Juanita’s memorial and set his bags down. He unsnapped the
black case and lifted the lid. Inside on gray foam padding was a video camera,
no bigger than a paperback book. Next to this there was a regular camera and a
professional lens attachment. Gavin pulled the video camera out and started
fiddling around with the settings. Seeing the equipment made everything real
and my nerves kicked up a notch.

“That’s Gavin?” a soft
voice said from behind me and I jumped. Spinning around, I came face to face
with Georgia. She was staring intently at Gavin. “He sure is different. More
grown up and more like his brother.”

The others were standing
behind Georgia, watching the activity with curiosity. “Gavin,” I called over my
shoulder. “When you’re ready, why don’t you introduce yourself? They’re all
here.”

Gavin nodded and slowly
stood. He ran his hand through his hair. It didn’t stand up, but flopped back
down, draping over his forehead. He peered at me through the strands and asked,
“Where are they?”

“Standing next to me,” I
answered and gestured to my left.

“Okay, then.” He took a
deep breath, smiled and gave a nervous wave in their direction. “The last time
I was here, I was a teenager – an angry and confused one at that. I wasn’t here
when my brother crossed over. I know you helped him when he died and that my
nephew and Candy are alive because of you. I never forgot about Tobin, but I
moved on in a way. That I wasn’t here for him in his last days before he
crossed over, well, it really bothers me. So that’s why I’m here today. You helped
him and I want to help y’all.”

This was probably the
most I’ve heard Gavin say at one time and resisted the urge to applaud his
speech. I was surprised to see Bob step forward and stand in front of Gavin. He
closed his eyes and he gradually grew brighter. Bob reached out and touched
Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin gasped and took a big step back.

“What was that?” he asked
in a whisper.

“Bob just touched you.”

“Wow! I felt it – it was
so cold. Look.” Gavin lifted up the sleeve on his t-shirt and I saw goose bumps
trailing down his arm from his shoulder.

I explained to Gavin how
Bob grew brighter right before he touched him. “Bob how did you do that?” I
asked.

“If we focus enough we
can draw energy from our surroundings. We can get a lot more during a lightning
storm. With the energy we can move and touch things. That’s how we were able to
pull Tobin and his family for their burning car. It’s how Frank and Peggy were
able to save you.”

I explained this to
Gavin. “Wow, I always wondered! Tobin never really told me. Thank you all again;
I know Tobin didn’t survive the accident, but at least you were there to meet
him and he wasn’t alone.” Gavin’s eyes glistened with tears.

“Elena,” Bob said without
taking his eyes off of Gavin. “Tell him I understand. I lost a brother too.”

 

***

 

BOB

 

As I was listening to
Gavin, something clicked. I understood his guilt, only I was the older brother
who failed at saving Billy. This event was something that haunted me. I had a
lot time to think about my life and how I wound up in the desert with a bullet
in my head.  Things had started to spiral out of control after my brother’s
death. Did my parents have this same realization in their last days? Their
grief, the isolation I felt, the blame silently directed at me – did they know
how much harm they had caused?

Here was someone who
experienced a similar loss. I was indifferent to finding closure for myself
because I didn’t deserve to have any efforts wasted on me, but I was drawn in
by this boy’s cause. He was young enough for this to make a difference. He
still had a life ahead of him.

“Bob, you never told me
about your brother,” Elena said.

“What’s there to tell? It
was a long time ago. He’s gone. I couldn’t save him.”

“How old were you when it
happened?”

“Twelve.”

“And you blame yourself?”

“Yeah, my folks did too -
especially the old man. I couldn’t save him, the ice won.”

I proceeded to tell the
story about Billy. How we tried to keep him from succumbing to the water, but
the cold and the weight of his wet clothes sucked the fight right out of him.
“When the glove slid off of his hand and we lost contact, there was a moment
where we stared at each other. Just a second before his head went underwater where
he knew and I knew he was in trouble. That hesitation, when I should have been
trying to find another way to hold on to him, cost Billy his life.”

I had never told the
others this story. I’d always feared rejection after revealing this dark truth.
How helpless I had been as I watched my brother sink, his arms outstretched
before him. He drifted further away into the depths of the freezing cold water.
Elena relayed my story to Gavin and she was crying towards the end.

I finished and after a
few moments of silence, Elena wiped her eyes, cleared her throat and said,
“Bob, you were twelve, what happened wasn’t your fault, just a horrible
accident.”

“I want to believe that,
but the blame and guilt are a part of me now.”

Elena shook her head and
pushed off of the hood of the car where she had been sitting.

She dusted off her bottom
and turned to Gavin, who had been leaning against the car next to her listening
as she repeated my story to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah that was...Bob,
thank you for sharing that with me,” the kid said. Since he couldn’t see me, he
wasn’t actually anywhere near me, so I moved into his line of sight.  “It seems
we both have our burdens to bear.”

“I just hope you don’t
let yours dictate your life.”

Elena told Gavin this and
he nodded, “Same here.”

 

Chapter Sixty-Eight

 

ELENA

 

Gavin squatted down and
grabbed the video camera from the black case. “Should we get started?” he
asked, looking up at me through hair that hung over his eyes. I nodded, but
eyed the camera warily. “Relax, this is just for class and my professor agreed
to have all students sign a non-disclosure agreement. I can get copies of them,
if you like?”

“Okay.” 

Gavin snapped the camera
case closed before standing. “Good. I was thinking about taking some trial
footage, just to see if we capture anything.”

I turned to face the
ghosts and asked them to channel as much energy as possible. Within moments
they were standing in front of me as dimensional and solid as real people. I
told Gavin where to direct the camera only for him to respond with, “What the
hell?” He lightly shook the camera.
     “What’s wrong?” 

“The battery is dead and
I know it was fully charged. When I first turned it on it showed all cells.” He
powered down the camera and turned it on again. The red low battery light
flashed on the display so he bent down and retrieved the back-up out of the
case. “Here we go.” He started filming, but less than five minutes later the
battery was once again dead.

Gavin switched to the
digital camera. Since I was just observing at this point and directing him on
where to shoot, I noticed that when the batteries started to fade, the ghosts
flickered and weakened.

“Wait a minute. Frank,
how do you channel energy again?”

“I don’t know - we draw
from the energy around us. Lightning really packs a punch.”

“Huh. Hey Gavin, I think
I know why the batteries are getting drained so fast.” I told him what Frank
said. “They must be drawing energy off of the devices.”

“That makes sense and
I’ve seen it happen on ghost hunting shows, but didn’t know if it was real.”

While we didn’t make a
ton of progress that day, at least we learned to bring plenty of batteries.

 

***

 

In the following weeks,
my life took on a frantic pattern where work and double espresso fueled
research sessions with Gavin took over. On more than one night shift I had to stop
and nap in my cruiser during my allotted 30-minute break. I’d pull into a
deserted strip mall and park in the shadows of the building so nobody would
spot me sleeping.

I had Sundays and Mondays
off, not having to report until later Tuesday night so Gavin came up from Tempe
on Sunday mornings. If I was lucky, I was able to squeeze five hours of sleep
in before he arrived around noon and I’d wake up to let him in. He always was
weighed down with his duffel bag and the film equipment he borrowed from the
university.

We had a routine. He’d
set his stuff down on the sofa, next to the pillow and sleeping bag I set out
for him while I got the coffee going. Then he’d start to go over notes and
outline an agenda for the day, giving me time to shower and get ready. After
the first couple of sessions, I was getting used to being filmed. It was a
great way to document our communication with the ghosts. Since they weren’t
visible on film, we recorded their written responses to our questions instead.
Through various techniques Gavin authenticated the process. He moved the camera
around to show there weren’t any invisible threads, like fishing line, used to
manipulate the sticks that the ghost wrote with. He was careful to use time and
date-stamps as a way to debunk any potential editing claims later.

We were making progress
too. Since Bob opened up to us about his brother, he was more cooperative and able
to provide a detailed description of the old slaughterhouse where he was shot.
He couldn’t recall the exact location, but gave us enough information and
surrounding landmarks that I was able to pinpoint the likely area.

Georgia wrote down the
painful details of her rape and described the men in the van, providing particular
detail about the man who raped her. At one point she dropped the stick and
rocked back, hugging her knees to her chest. I explained this to Gavin since he
couldn’t see her. Georgia wailed into her arms and flickered with each sob. I
sat down next to her and attempted to put my arm around her shoulders, but it
just passed right through. The air around her was cold and gave me goose bumps.
I showed Gavin and he zoomed in on my skin’s reaction. Peggy was able to
comfort Georgia and after a few heaving breaths, she picked up the stick and
continued with her story. What Gavin documented on film, I wrote down in
detailed notes and photographed with a digital camera.

Gavin was easy to work
with and carried himself with more maturity than I had expected. He was
definitely more serious than my brother, but losing Tobin had left a deep mark.
I hoped this process would provide the closure he sought.

It was late in the
afternoon one Monday and when we finished filming I suggested we go out for
dinner. He agreed and I watched as he meticulously wiped dust off of his camera
and packed it up in its cushioned case.

“What are you in the mood
for?” I asked.

“A burger will be fine.”

I knew just the place off
Courthouse Square in Prescott, a local brew pub. We hit traffic and the drive
took longer than planned. Gavin fell asleep, his head resting against the window.
He had a slight smile on his face and seemed peaceful. I knew this project was
eating up a lot of his time. The shadows under his eyes were almost as dark as mine.
He should be out at frat parties and picking up girls, but instead he’s here
with me, I thought to myself and shook my head.

The restaurant was busy
and we followed the hostess to a small booth located in the rear, near the
restrooms. We immediately ordered beers and once our server was out of earshot,
we started talking about our project.

“I think we’re going
around in circles here, Gavin,” I said. “We can do all the research and talk to
the ghosts all we want, but how are we going to get them to crossover?”

“I don’t know. How about using
a Ouija board?”

 

Annoyed, I narrowed my
eyes at him and he burst out laughing. “Just kidding!” He winked at me and I
laughed with him. For a usually solemn and reserved guy he did surprise me with
an occasional goofy moment.

“There is someone at
school I think you should meet. She might have the answers.”

“Really?”

Gavin started to tell me
when our server returned with our beers. We placed our dinner orders and waited
for her to leave again. We leaned towards each other across the table and
Gavin, keeping his voice low, continued.

“My ex-girlfriend is a
psych major and she told me that one of her professors works closely with a
medium.”

“Ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but we’re cool. It
wasn’t a dramatic break-up, we’re better off as friends. She might know how to
help and get in touch with the medium too – if you’re interested?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” I
reminded Gavin how the psychic the newswoman had brought to the scene was a
fraud.

“There are a lot of
frauds, but apparently this medium is legit.”

I was hesitant about
involving anyone else, but we weren’t any closer to helping the ghosts. Now
that I’d gotten to know them, I wanted to make it work. This was more than
feeling obligated because they helped me.

In an uncharacteristic
move, Gavin reached across and put his hand over mine. “I know you’re worried.
Just think about it,” he said.

Gavin’s hand was still
over mine when Eric walked by our table. Since my back was to him, I didn’t see
him coming. He sure took notice of us and came to a halt, glancing down at our
hands. I quickly withdrew mine and sat up straight.

“Eric, this is Gavin.
He’s Cruz’s friend from school I told you about? He’s helping with my project.
Gavin, this is Eric.” They shook hands. Eric appraising the man I was sharing
the table with as if we were sharing a bed. Gavin’s shoulders hunched in and he
drew inwards, like he wanted to shrink into the booth. Seriously? I asked
myself.

“What are you doing here,
Eric? Stalking me?” I smiled up at him.

“Watching the game at the
bar and I had to use the bathroom.” He pointed at the men’s room door, which
was less than ten feet away from our table.

“Oh, right.”

“But, since you’re here, I
do want to talk to you.” Eric sat down next to me and I scooted over on the
bench. “I did some digging into Georgia’s case file.”

He might as well have
told me he was getting a sex change. The fact that he was researching Georgia’s
case completely threw me. Who was this man sitting next to me?

“Turns out DNA had been
collected at the scene. They started doing this in the late sixties knowing
technology was advancing. Unfortunately there’s such a backlog and Georgia’s
case is so old, it will be years if it is even ever processed. The sample might
not even be viable anymore because of degradation and all.”

“Is there anything we can
do?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll ask
around and will let you know.”

“Thanks, Eric. Really.”

“You got it.” He leaned
over and kissed my cheek before getting up.

 

I turned and watched him
walk back to the bar. Sure enough a couple of the guys were watching one of the
baseball playoff games. Since the Diamondbacks weren’t playing, I had zero
interest in joining them. It was only after Eric sat down on a bar stool that I
realized he hadn’t used the bathroom.

“I didn’t realize someone
else knows about the ghosts?” Gavin asked.

“Sorry – I forgot to
mention it because I didn’t think he wanted to be involved. Eric’s my
ex-husband and he was on the scene during my rescue.”

“So that’s your
ex-husband. Cruz said he was a dick to you.”

“Yeah, well it goes both
ways and I was kind of a dick to him too.”

It was true. I know I
didn’t really extend the olive branch and try to make things work. I didn’t
want to be the first one to admit I was partly to blame because deep down I
never forgave him for leaving to go to a bar and getting completely hammered
when I told him I was pregnant. It wasn’t like we were reckless teenagers. We were
married, had careers and a condo. We had even talked about having kids.

Bottom line, Eric wasn’t
ready. He tried to pretend, but the almost euphoric relief he displayed when I
miscarried marked the end of our marriage. Once I was discharged from the
hospital, I moved out. In hindsight, I probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind
and not the best at communicating, but it happened and couldn’t be undone.

When we were finished
with our burgers, Gavin and I ordered another beer. It was nice to unwind after
spending the afternoon out in the sun and wind that whipped across the desert.
I was too distracted by Eric’s sudden involvement that I wasn’t much of a
conversationalist. We drank our beers in companionable silence.

I waved at Eric as we
walked by the bar on our way out of the restaurant. He lifted his beer bottle
in my direction and watched as Gavin held the door open for me.

We were back at my
apartment for less than an hour, our day’s work spread out on the table before
us, when there was a knock on the front door. I used the peephole first and saw
Eric.

“This is a surprise,” I
said when I opened the door.

“Yeah, I know.”

I stepped aside and let
him in, watching as he surveyed the living room, pausing at the sofa where
Gavin’s pillow, blankets and bag were. Eric’s attention was drawn to Gavin and
the image up on his laptop. The picture was of some written exchange we had
earlier with Bob. He had remembered more details of where he was shot.

“What are you working
on?” Eric asked.

“Are you genuinely
interested?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Have a seat. Want
a beer?”

Eric nodded and sat down
next to Gavin who briefly glanced at him, but didn’t say anything, just went
back to adjusting the image. I got us each a bottle of beer and joined them at
the table where I proceeded to fill Eric in on the documentation we’d
collected. I also told him how we weren’t any closer to our goal.

“I suggested we contact a
medium who works with the university,” Gavin added when I paused to take a
drink.

Eric leaned back in his
chair with his arms crossed and gazed at me. “Is this what you want?”

“If the medium can help,
then yes, because we don’t know what else to do.”

“Can you give me some
time? I have someone who owes me a favor and I think I might be able to get the
DNA associated with Georgia’s case tested.”

I looked across the table
at Gavin and he shrugged. He seemed indifferent, but I knew he spent a lot of
time and money coming up here every weekend.

“Maybe - how long will
that take and how do you know this is the piece of information holding Georgia
back from crossing over?”

“I don’t, so it’s a gamble
either way.”

When it came to solving
problems, with the exception of those within our own relationship, Eric and I
used to be a great team. I had to admit it felt right having him involved and
sitting at the table with us. Eric reached for a piece of paper and a pen and
started writing out a list of our progress. This was fairly short. He got up
and got us another round of beer. Next he wrote out another list of obstacles
and drew a line for a blank column, which he titled “potential solutions”. When
we were done, the list read like this:

Issue/Problem

Potential Solutions

1)
  
Lack of resources –
limited information. 

Take more time for
research? Time off of work/school?

2)
  
Information we found
didn’t make a difference. No one crossed over.

Eric can try to get DNA
from Georgia’s cold case tested.  Medium can discover what’s holding them
here.

3)
  
We don’t know what
the hell we’re doing. (ties into #1)

Research successful
attempts at crossing a spirit over. A medium might know.

4)
  
Doing all of this
and keeping it private.

Limit the involvement
of others. Only bring in those who can be trusted. Draft a confidentiality or
non-disclosure agreement.

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