Ghost Program (20 page)

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Authors: Marion Desaulniers

BOOK: Ghost Program
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   “Can he even do that?” I asked Brent.  “To an immortal?”

   “I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Brent.  ‘The man seems determined.”

   “You ought to rest for your journey, Sam,” said Gregg.

   “It’s only a couple hours,” I said.

   “It’s longer than that,” said Gregg with a small smile.

   “We have a car,” I said.

   Gregg said nothing.  I didn’t know if he was able to think forward past his own time.  I still don’t.

   “I’ll stick around here till you leave for Seattle,” said Tony.  “Karen and Veronica would be pissed if I let you die, Sam.  Besides the fact is that I like you a little, too.  From what I’ve seen of you.”

   “I’ve got just a little wine left in that bottle, Tony.  Share it with me,” I said.  I uncorked the bottle and took a long sip, then handed it to him.

   Tony took the bottle from me and looked at it for a minute as if he was reading the label.  Then he took a drink himself.  “I always enjoy a good drink.”

   “I thought as much,” I said.  “I’m so glad you’re here.  I’ll die a thousand deaths if you leave the house.  Brent has to drive to Seattle tomorrow morning.  What happened with Mary?  Tell us more; I’m so curious.”

   “Karen took me to see her.  At first she didn’t believe that I was there with her, tried to get Karen to leave, but she felt me.”

   “She felt you...” I said.

   “She could feel me, but couldn’t see me, couldn’t hear me...but she could feel my hand on her arm, and no one has hands as big as mine, so she knew...Karen spoke for me, but eventually I...we... didn’t need her anymore and asked her to leave.  Then she knew that I had survived my death.”

   Gregg said nothing, just sat back in that detached way with an expression on his face like he was thinking deeply, smoking his pipe.  I wondered if having that pipe was just a way of excusing himself from the conversation.  I could smell his cologne.

   “The Dark Lord hasn’t come back either, although I think eventually Veronica will see him.  He seems to rescue random women and leave them at her door.”  Why was I telling all my business to a couple of ghosts?

   “I know of course,” said Gregg, “that it is a necessity to defend Sam with the best of our efforts, but I wonder if we’re really fit for it?  Neither I nor Tony has any pistol.  Has anyone thought of that?”

   “I don’t need it,” said Tony.  “I carried one while I was a detective, but I don’t feel it will be needed in this case.”

   “Rather brave, isn’t he?” asked Gregg with a grin.  “I’d fancy having his gumption.  Are you feeling better, sister?”

   “I feel much better.  And I’m not so afraid as I once was.  Do you know what
He
looks like, Tony?” I asked.

   “I’ve discussed it with Gregg.”

   “The man you’re looking for is very ugly, sinister, nerdy...” I said.

   “I’m going to find him,” said Tony.  “Would you like to walk the perimeter of the house with me again, Gregg?  I’d like to make sure nothing gets in unseen.”

   “Yes, I will accompany you,” said Gregg.  “Take care, Sam and Brent.  We must be off.”

   Gregg and Tony left my room, and I soon heard their footsteps on the stairs.

   “You gonna miss this town when we leave?” asked Brent.

   “No,” I said.  “That’s just not possible.  I could miss a person from this town, but I’d never miss this town.”

   “Like it or not, it’s somehow a part of us,” replied Brent.  “It always will be.  Seaside has affected us, our lives, our personalities in so many ways.”

   “It’ll always be part of who we are,” I agreed. 

   “People from Seattle aren’t like us,” said Brent.

   “No.  They’re something different entirely.  Not one of us, never will be.  Are you gonna raise your kids here in town?”

   “I’m not sure.”

   “Me neither.”

 

   We were again quiet.  Rain began to patter lightly against the window, and I closed the curtain to give ourselves some privacy.  In all truth, I couldn’t wait to leave the house and get to Brent’s apartment.  There was an uncomfortable ratio of living to dead people in my house.  There were far too many dead.

   “I’m gonna take a rest, Brent.  I feel lousy.”

   “Go ahead.”

   “I won’t sleep the whole night.  The pain and the medication is making me grouchy.”

   “It’s understandable.  Promise me you won’t have more nightmares.  Try to think pleasant thoughts, if only for me.”  Brent smiled calmly as he rearranged my pillows so I could sleep comfortably on them, draped a pillowcase over my bedside lamp to dim it slightly, and turned up the room’s thermostat.  His actions had the appropriate effect.  I felt myself drift towards sleep, felt my eyes close, and felt a light sheet being pulled over me.  For awhile, I hovered in that strange place between wakefulness and sleep.  I wasn’t sure but I thought that there was a sensation of a gentle touch between my legs, but the feeling wasn’t strong enough to wake me fully.  The nightmares didn’t come.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


CHAPTER 16

 

 

 
S
omeone was gently shaking me.  I opened my eyes.  My room was still mostly dark, but I could see the beginnings of dawn peeking through the curtain.  I saw the soft glow of a lamp and felt warm fingers on my arm.

   “Sam,” came the whisper.  It was Brent’s voice.

   I mumbled something indistinguishable.

   “Wake up,” he said.  “I want to say goodbye before I leave.”

   I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

   “I got to get up to Seattle,” he said softly.

   “What time is it?”

   “5:30.  I brought your crutches up the stairs in case you need to get to the kitchen.  Remember what I said?  I’ll be back this evening soon as I can to pick you up.  And I’ll call as soon as I’m able.”

   “You’re leaving?” I asked stupidly.  I still hadn’t shaken off my sleepiness.

   “Stay here.  Don’t go anywhere today,” he said.

   “Where would I go?  My car’s wrecked.”

   “Keep your phone close by.  What are your plans?”

   “My teacher’s comin’ to the house to give me my math final.”

   “Good.  I have to leave, but I’ll be back very soon.”

   I began to cry.   I didn’t know why I was crying, and it embarrassed me.  “Do you have to go?”  I tried to catch my breath.

   “Sam.  No, don’t cry.  Don’t do that.  You’ve got to stay here so you can pass your class.  Is your mom gonna be around to help you?”

   “Yeah.”  I couldn’t stop crying, and my chest shook.

   “I’m coming back...”  He looked helpless as he pulled me off the pillow and wrapped his arms around me. 

   My face was mashed into his chest, which was awkward but I felt myself start to calm down.

   “Look,” he said.  “Nothing’s gonna happen.  It’s just a few hours, and you’ve got your family...and Gregg and Tony.” 

 

   I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that two of those people were ghosts.  I was having trouble breathing with my face mashed into his sweater, and I pulled slightly away.  His sweater was damp from my tears.

   Brent ran his finger over the cut on my lip.  “This will all get better very soon.  Just been an unpleasant week is all.”

 

   He hugged me fiercely then stood, hoisting his backpack on his shoulders.  I fell back on my pillow, staring at him dully.

   “I’ll call,” he said with a guilty expression.

   I said nothing.

   “Several times.  As often as I have time.”  His gray eyes gazed at me, and my eyes met his, but I couldn’t disguise my disappointment at his departure or my dread at being left alone.

   “Go to your class,” I said in a tremulous voice.  “You’re right.  I have to be here.”

  “It’s too bad to leave you when you’re in such a bad way.”

   “I’m fine.  You’d better get on the road, or you’ll be late.  Traffic’s bad.”  I didn’t understand the intense emotions I felt, didn’t know why my voice contained such bitterness.  I reached under the mattress and fished out a couple twenties, handed them to Brent.

   “I don’t need that, hon,” he said.

   “Take them,” I said sadly.  “Gas is high.” 

   He took them.

 

   Brent leaned over the bed and kissed my lips gently, careful not to aggravate my split lip, then squeezed my upper arm, said
Take care
, and after flipping the lamp off, walked out the door.  I heard the creak of the stairs underneath his weight.

 

   I laid back on my pillow and mercifully was able to fall back asleep, the mattress and pillows soothing me with their soft caress, a cool breeze billowing through the closed window, the fresh scent of cologne in the air.  Before I closed my eyes, the now stubby candle on the windowsill lit by itself, projecting a warm glow over the dim room while causing shadows to flutter over the wallpaper.  I wondered who had wallpapered my room as I felt my body sink into paralysis and heard my breathing slow as a rocking chair softly creaked in the corner.  I woke briefly later to see Gregg lying quietly next to me, and before I turned on my side to fall back asleep, a deep and profound relief and gratitude towards him welled up inside me which caused me to relax.  What luck.  I was no longer alone.

 

   I woke some hours later to the sound of my cell phone ringing insistently.  Gregg still slept next to me, and I wanted to touch him, but I remembered how cold he always felt, how he felt
dead
, and I kept my hands to myself.  I climbed around him and grabbed my phone off the desk, my ribs pinching and smarting as I did so.  I clicked the answer button, and a soft female voice answered me.

   “Hello?” I asked.

   “Is this Sam?”

   “Yes,” I said suspiciously.  “Who is this?”

   “Detective LaRoche gave me your name and number.  My name is Andrea Hume.  I hope I’m not bothering you.”

   “No, I told him that he could contact me.  Is this about my reported crime?”

   “In a way, yes.  I’m an attorney, and I’m calling to ask if you would like to retain my services.”

   “I’m not being charged with a crime, am I?”

   She laughed a soft, feminine laugh.  “Of course not.  I’ve been told that you sustained significant personal and property damage in the commission of this crime.  I’d like to get you a settlement.  It wouldn’t cost you anything; I’d take my fee out of the money that we collected from the defendant.  Let me explain.  Two men wrecked your car and assaulted you.  Their...” She gave a snort of disgust.  “...bodies were found on Whittington’s yacht.  Andrew Breame had no significant resources of any kind.  A little money in his checking account, a cheap car, no stocks or bonds that we know of.  His friend, Dale Whittington, however appears to have had significant assets, simply put he was wealthy.  I’m certain that I could obtain a judgement to benefit you in the amount of tens of thousands of dollars .... money to pay for a new car, your medical bills, and general pain and suffering.  Whittington has no children, no heirs that we are aware of; he left no will.  It’s only fair that his money be put to good use, that it do some good.  I know you’ve suffered, Sam, financially, physically, psychologically.  Have you thought about what your counseling bills will run for the next few years?”

   “Counseling?”

   “Of course.  You nearly lost your life.  You’re going to need the services of a psychologist.  They aren’t cheap; most charge over two hundred dollars a session.  I’m here to help you past those obstacles.  And what about physical injuries?  I take it that you’ve been to a doctor?”

   “Yes.  I’ve got some injuries.”

   “And those are documented.”

   “Uh-huh.”

   “I’d like you to retain my counsel.  You wouldn’t have to come to my office; I know you’re hurt.  I’m more than willing to come to your house so we could discuss some details.  You would have to come to a court hearing, but that would be a month out.  I’d be honored if you’d hire me.  God, I must sound like I’m begging.  But it’s really an open and shut case, and I’d like to have it if I could.”

   “When would you come?” I asked.  The woman reminded me of a used car salesman.

   “I could stop by tomorrow.”

   “I might be in Seattle.”

   “I could probably manage that.  You’d help me a lot if you could e-mail me the address of our meeting place.  I could set up a time now.”

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