Ghouls Gone Wild (18 page)

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Authors: Victoria Laurie

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

BOOK: Ghouls Gone Wild
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That had me worried. I couldn’t even entertain the thought of Gilley spending time in a foreign jail. My best friend was like a pampered Pomeranian. He tended to yap loudly when he wasn’t getting enough attention, and I doubted the thugs in prison would put up with that for long. I knew he’d never survive the experience.
I sighed in frustration and thought about how I could best help him, but nothing came to mind. I was going to have to hope that Gopher could show the police the video and they’d see enough freaky stuff to be convinced that not only were Gilley and Gopher not responsible, but that at least Gil had actually been a victim right along with Cameron.
Beside me Heath’s posture stiffened and I glanced his way. “What’s the matter?”
“He’s here,” he whispered.
“Who’s here?”
“The guest of honor,” Heath whispered. “Cameron.”
“Bonnie’s dead brother is
here
?!” I exclaimed a little too loudly. Several heads swiveled round to stare at me with reproachful glares.
“We’re at a funeral,” an old man snapped. “Try to have some respect for the dead!”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Sorry!” I whispered. And when he seemed satisfied that I wasn’t about to commit another faux pas, he turned back around. I leaned in close to Heath and asked, “Is Cameron grounded?”
Heath dipped his chin. “Yes.”
“Oh, no,” I muttered. That was the worst possible news. If Cameron was stuck in the land of ghosts, I didn’t think I could ever forgive myself for insisting on coming here and causing this unfortunate chain of events. “Can you get him to cross over?”
Heath closed his eyes and mouthed, “I’m trying” just as the priest began to call for quiet and for everyone to take their seats because the service was about to begin. My knee bounced and my impatient attention went from Heath to the priest conducting the ceremony. I couldn’t sense Cameron at all, and I was stuck waiting for Heath to fill me in.
My fellow medium took his time. Heath’s brow furrowed while he concentrated, but finally he relaxed his posture and leaned over to whisper in my ear, “I can’t get him across.”
“Damn it!” I swore under my breath, completely forgetting I was in church. “Is he giving you a reason?”
“He’s worried about the baby,” he said, pointing to the pregnant woman sitting next to Bonnie. “He’s saying this is all wrong, and he’s very anxious about the child.”
“So he knows he’s dead?” I asked, careful to keep my voice very low while the priest read some scripture.
“He seems to,” Heath confirmed.
“Which makes it harder for us to convince him to cross.”
“It does,” he agreed.
Not all ghosts are confused about their demise. And while it is true that the majority of grounded spirits haunting our world do not fully comprehend that they have actually died, a strong minority in their ranks fully comprehend that their bodies have stopped living, but their souls refuse to cross over because something is keeping them stuck in the middle. Many of these spirits are worried about a loved one who they think is still alive, or they’re afraid of crossing over and being judged because they didn’t live a virtuous life.
And then, of course, there are energies like Rigella, who refuse to cross because they are so evil that they continue to get a kick out of scaring, messing with, or harming the living. These energies are by far the most dangerous, because they’re not content with merely making scary noises or moving the occasional chair. No, they actually create a portal to the lower realms—a place where nothing good roams—and they gather power and knowledge down there to use against poor unsuspecting types. Or those against whom they hold a grudge.
Those spirits who fall into Cameron’s category of being aware of their death but still refusing to move on are tough customers when it comes to convincing them that they would be better off letting go of this world and moving to the next. Still, I couldn’t very well leave Cameron in a constant state of worry over his unborn child, because I knew that his connection to real events in the present and future might be obscured by the fog of the ghost world.
Ghosties aren’t always conscious that time is passing, and I believed that it was highly possible that Cameron’s child could be born, grow up, and live a completely full life and Cameron would never be the wiser. He might always believe that his wife was still pregnant.
“Are you still connected to him?” I asked.
“Barely,” Heath whispered.
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s over there, trying to talk to the pregnant woman.”
I had a jolt of clarity at that moment and reached out to squeeze Heath’s hand. “The baby!” I mouthed.
“What?” he mouthed back.
“Cameron’s child could be in danger from Rigella!”
Heath’s eyes darted to the pregnant girl sitting forlornly next to Bonnie. “Shit,” he whispered. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
He squeezed my hand back, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my arm so I pulled my hand abruptly away. Heath seemed startled by the move, but he didn’t comment, which was a relief.
We waited until long after the service had ended and almost everyone else had filed up to pay their respects to Bonnie and Cameron’s wife. We were the last to approach them and I hoped they didn’t notice that we’d come in jeans. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” I said when we reached the pair.
Bonnie didn’t seem to recognize me at first, but she took my hand and said, “Thank you.”
There was a little awkward pause after that, so I added, “We were in your shop the other day.”
Recognition blossomed in her eyes. “Oh, yes! The mediums from America. How lovely of you to come by and pay our Camey your respects,” she said kindly.
“Of course,” I said, completely relieved that she didn’t seem to be aware that it was our van that had run her brother over. I wanted to ask her about the charm she’d given me, and maybe ask her if I could purchase another one, but this didn’t feel like the time or the place. Instead, my eyes swiveled to the woman next to Bonnie. “I’m so sorry you lost your husband,” I said, wishing there was something else I could say to take that awful, sad expression from her face.
Her eyes snapped to mine and there was a flash of anger there. “He wasn’t my husband, you rude cow!” she barked.
I took a step back, utterly shocked by her reaction. Bonnie quickly placed a protective arm around the woman’s shoulders. “There, there, now, Rose,” she said, a tinge of red hitting her cheeks as she looked apologetically at me. “She didn’t mean any offense.” Rose ducked her chin and tears leaked out of her eyes. I felt terrible for having mentioned something to cause her additional pain.
“I’m so sorry,” I said hoarsely.
Bonnie attempted a smile. “Rose has had a terrible time of it. My brother never got around to asking for her hand and so this is a terrible thing to have happened to a poor pregnant lass.”
“I completely understand,” I said. “And again, I’m very sorry for your loss and to have spoken out of turn.”
Bonnie gave me a sympathetic pat on the arm and said, “Not to worry, miss, and thank you again for showing such kindness to us by coming by.” She then turned back to Rose and said, “Let’s get you home, deary, and into a nice hot bath, shall we?”
Rose’s chin hadn’t lifted after she’d snapped at me, and she continued to weep miserably and stare at the ground. Heath and I moved out of the way, allowing the pair to pass, and we waited until they were out of earshot to say anything. “That stung,” I admitted.
Heath wrapped his own arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “She didn’t mean it,” he said gently. “She’s just hurting right now and wants everyone else to hurt too.”
“Oh, I really do understand,” I told him, trying not to feel the heat of his body pressed against mine. “I just wasn’t expecting it and would rather not have encountered her, to be perfectly honest.”
“Yeah, well, then I’m not sure you’re going to like my next suggestion.”
“You want to follow them?”
He looked at me in surprise. “How’d you know?”
I pointed down the aisle to the departing women and to the little orb traveling along right behind them. “I figured you’d want to chase after Cameron and work some more on convincing him to cross.”
Heath smiled. “Come on,” he said. “But let’s try not to make it too obvious.”
It was a fairly quick trip to Bonnie’s. She lived two blocks away from the church, and Heath and I didn’t even have to get in our car. We just followed about fifty yards behind and halted the moment we saw Bonnie and Rose walk up to a lovely cottage with a clay-tiled roof and cute yellow shutters.
It tugged at my heartstrings to watch how caring Bonnie was with Rose. The pregnant woman waddled slowly, and Bonnie offered her an arm and a gentle word now and again to coax her along.
Once they’d gone inside, I lost sight of the gray little orb. “He went in,” I said.
Heath nodded. “I’m trying to get him to come back out,” he said, and just like that, I saw the orb reappear.
“Wow,” I said with a smile. “You’re good.”
“I didn’t do it,” he confessed.
“Then who did?”
At that moment a clicking noise called our attention and we turned to see a man with an umbrella which he used like a cane to walk down a street just opposite the one Bonnie lived on. I thought I recognized him, even though we were a bit too far away to make out his features. “That’s Fergus,” Heath whispered.
I glanced back in the direction of the orb. It was crossing the street and moving rapidly toward the ghost-tour guide. “Maybe they were friends,” I said, remembering that Fergus had come to the funeral.
“Maybe,” Heath said, his eyes far away. “But maybe not.”
I was about to ask him what he meant by that, but I didn’t have a chance because in the next moment Heath was grabbing my hand and tugging me across the street. We followed behind Fergus and the orb, keeping back far enough not to alert Fergus to our presence.
By now the sun was starting to set and there was a chill in the air. I wasn’t cold, thanks to Meg’s most recent shopping trip, but I still wished for some gloves. Well, at least one glove. My free hand was cold. The one Heath was holding had grown all warm and tingly.
Abruptly, Fergus turned a corner, disappearing from view behind a huge hedgerow. Heath and I trotted forward to the edge of the foliage and peeked around the corner.
The Scotsman was approaching a dead end with one lone house in sore need of some upkeep. “He must live there,” Heath said.
But the older gentleman showed no signs of going up the walk to the front door. Instead, he kept well to the side of the house and entered a cluster of woods. “Where the heck is he going?” I wondered.
“Do you think he saw us and is trying to ditch us?”
“Only one way to find out,” I said, tugging on his hand and trotting after Fergus again.
We approached the woods cautiously. The sun was setting rather quickly now, which gave the woods a particularly creepy cast. Heath and I continued to edge deeper into the trees, and I no longer felt a tingle as I gripped his hand tightly—I felt nervous.
“I don’t think I like it in here,” I said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Heath nodded. “I know what you mean,” he agreed. “Do you by any chance have any magnetic grenades on you?”
I groaned. “No,” I said. “I’m completely unarmed.”
Heath stopped. “Maybe we should head back.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end again and I sensed something terrible lurking in these woods. “I think that’s a great idea,” I whispered. “And I also think we should hurry.”
Heath and I turned as one, took a single step, and came up short. We were both too stunned to move, because not ten feet in front of us was a big black broom.
It was lying on the ground looking particularly creepy, and for a moment I had to struggle to breathe. “Where’d that come from?” I whispered, taken aback by its sudden appearance.
“It wasn’t there a minute ago,” Heath said. “See? That’s the path we’ve been following, and it’s lying right in the middle of it.”
I moved forward to inspect it and attempted a laugh. “
Harry Potter
fans would love it!” I joked, trying to shrug off the memory of the broom from my dream. The one on the ground was a perfect duplicate. “I mean, it looks like something right out of the movie, right?”
Heath didn’t respond, so I added, “Heath, someone’s
got
to be messing with us, right?” I glanced back at him, but his eyes were locked on the broom. I continued to try to rationalize it. “Seriously, dude, it’s a little cliché, don’t you think? The witch rises again and we come across a creepy-looking broom on the ground? If it weren’t so dopey, maybe I’d buy it,” I added in an extra-loud mocking voice.
Heath’s eyes finally pulled away from the black stick on the ground. “You think?”
I forced myself to laugh again. “Sure!” I said. “It’s an obvious joke, and a lame one at that. Someone’s just trying to screw with us.”
I looked back down at the broom and swallowed hard, trying to push down my own nerves. I wouldn’t admit it, but the similarity to the one from my dream was really unsettling me. “Oh, this is ridiculous!” I said, and bent to pick it up to prove that it was just a harmless piece of wood. But without warning, the broom snapped up to stand erect just a foot away from me. My heart began to slam against my chest. “Wires,” I whispered, backing up just in case to stand next to Heath. “It must be on wires or something, right?”
But just as I finished that sentence, something emerged slowly from the ground. It was a black shadow, vaguely in the shape of a person, and I watched in horror as it reached out an arm to grab hold of the broom. In the next instant the broom was off the ground, and the shadowy figure appeared to be riding it. It then sailed through the air with tremendous speed. Heath and I barely had time to drop to the ground and I could feel it whiz over my head and hit a tree with a loud crack. “Holy shit!” I yelled, scrambling to my feet. “What the—” My voice cut off as three loud thwacks sounded all around us. Heath and I pressed our backs against each other and turned in a circle. Two more identical brooms with black shadows astride them were clacking loudly against nearby trees, joining the first one as they taunted and teased us.

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