Spirited (25 page)

“I always need you,” I say with an ache of longing.

“Will you promise not to go out alone tonight?”

He’ll stop me if I don’t promise, so I nod. “Good.” He smiles.

But if he could read my mind, he wouldn’t look so relieved, because I’m still going to Wilshire Castle tonight.

Just not alone.

~*~*~

I wait till after dinner when Dominic is busy in the barn and my grandmother is working in her home office before hiking down my rural driveway.

“You’re the best,” I tell my partner-in-scheming and school newspaper editor, Manny DeVries, when his car pulls up beside me.

“That’s what all the girls say,” he teases.

I laugh. He’s so full of himself, but not lying either. Girls are really into his confidence and dark handsome looks. We’ve never been romantic, just good friends, and he’s one of the few people at Sheridan High I trust with my psychic secret.

“How could I resist a secret rendezvous to a castle?” Manny’s dreadlocks woven with beads rattle as he gestures for me to climb into his Chevy. He points to a stack of printouts between our seats. “Want to hear what I found out about your ghost?”

I nod, fastening my seatbelt. Manny isn’t only helping with transportation, he’s got mad hacker skills.

“Jeremiah Wilshire married Hannah McDermish sixteen years ago, and they appeared happy except they couldn’t have children. Hannah loved to collect princess figurines, so Jeremiah built her a fairytale castle fit for a princess. But after a few years, rumors spread about violent arguments. When Hannah vanished, her sister Beverly told the police she’d seen Jeremiah with a shovel. They searched the property, but the body was never found. Beverly accused Jeremiah of killing Hannah in a jealous rage. But he’s dead now too—from a freak fall down the ballroom stairs—so no one knows what really happened.”

“Except his ghost,” I say.

“Murderous ghosts aren’t the most reliable sources,” Manny says. “Are you sure you want to confront him?”

“Ghosts don’t scare me. I’m sure Jeremiah regrets what he did to his wife. That’s why he’s so angry. I’ll convince him that his wife is waiting for him on the other side and he needs to cross over to tell her he’s sorry.”

“You think he’s really sorry? Or a sick twisted killer?”

“Most ghosts aren’t dangerous, just confused.” I hope I’m right. Not only will I help Jeremiah, but I’ll save the prom too.

When we reach Wilshire Castle, I ask Manny to wait in his car, but he pulls a macho act, insisting on protecting me. Like I’m the one who needs a bodyguard? I remind him that I can see ghosts and he can’t. “I’ll call you if I need help,” I say, waving my cell phone.

I leave before he can argue and then retrieve the key I’d watched Penny-Love hide inside a faux rock. The castle foyer is dark, and I don’t want to attract attention by flipping on the lights, so I pull out my flashlight. But the faint glow isn’t bright enough to cut through the gloominess. I sense my spirit guide nearby, hovering silently.

Are my warnings no more than empty air to you?
Opal scolds.

“I know what I’m doing,” I assure her.

The knowledge of those attached to earth is diminutive.

“If you don’t approve, then leave.”

Unfortunately she takes me at my word. After she’s gone, it’s like the light in my aura has faded, and I’m alone in a dark, creepy castle.

Maybe not so alone, I realize when I push open the door to the ballroom and shivers prickle my skin. Across the dance floor on the staircase leading up to the second floor, a wispy outline of a man beckons to me.

Jeremiah Wilshire.

I get an urge to flee to the safety of Manny’s car, but I came here to talk to Jeremiah, and I’m not wimping out. He’s only a ghost, and most ghosts have no more strength than a gust of wind. Still he did manage to topple a tower, so maybe he’s stronger than most ghosts. Rage can be a powerful fuel.

When I’m near the staircase, I stop to face him.

“Hi, Jeremiah,” I say in my calmest tone. I even manage a smile.

“Who are you?” His harsh voice seems to come from a long distance, although he’s only an arm’s reach from me. His black eyes narrow under dark brows.

“I’m Sabine Rose.”

“You aren’t dead, so how can you see me?”

“I’ve always been able to see ghosts.” His burning anger drains some of my courage. “I-I came here to help you.”

He snorts. “A little girl like you is going to help
me?
Fat chance.”

I think back to my vision of him dancing with his wife. “I know about you… how much you loved your wife. You used to dance with her underneath the sparkling lights.” I point up to the chandelier. “I know you never meant to hurt her.”

“She’s the one who hurt me!” He swirls down a step, and I stumble backwards. “Yeah, I loved her and gave her everything she wanted—but it wasn’t enough. I warned her I’d kill her if she ever tried to leave me.”

“Whatever happened… well, it was a long time ago. You must let go of the past if you want to see your wife again.”

“I’ve already seen her. She was here with you.”

I gasp. “Impossible! I would have seen her like I’m seeing you.”

“She’s changed; she’s younger and her voice is different, but her hair and freckles are the same.”

“Where exactly did you see her?” I ask.

“Here—in the ballroom. But she ignored me, because she was with
him.
“

“Who?”

“The man who stole her from me.”

“There weren’t any other ghosts—only you.”

“When I see that wife-stealer again, I’ll do more than drop a tower on him.” Jeremiah’s aura swirls blood red. “He won’t get off so lucky next time.”

I stare at Jeremiah. “You pushed the tower on Ransom because you think he stole your wife?”

“I didn’t push hard enough. He has no right to her.”

“But she’s dead.”

“Liar! You held the ladder for her while she put up that banner.” He points to the silver and purple “Castle Dreams” banner high over the stage.

“You can’t possibly… that’s crazy… you think Penny-Love is your wife?”

“Don’t call her that silly name. Hannah is my wife, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to keep her away from me.”

He really is psycho,
I think, glancing around and ready to run.

“She’s not your wife. She doesn’t even look like her except for the same color hair and freckles.” I’m trying to sound calm, but my voice rises. “Her name is Penny Lovell, and Ransom is her boyfriend. They were just little kids when you died. Your wife would be much older than you if she was still alive.”

“My. Wife. Is. Alive!” he roars, swirling down the stairs. His cold fingers clamp around my neck.

“Let go!” His grasp isn’t solid like flesh, but his energy grips me until I pull away from him.

I spin around to run, but he blocks my way. “She couldn’t see me, but you can.”

“She’ll be able to see you if you let go of your anger and go to the light,” I say. “She’s there waiting, and she’ll forgive you if you tell her you’re sorry.”

“I’m not sorry. I’m going to kill the guy who took her from me.”

“Ransom doesn’t know your wife. You have to believe me. Don’t hurt him—please!”

“Maybe I won’t.” A sly look crosses his misty face. “If you do what I ask.”

I tense. “What?”

“Bring my wife to me.”

“But I—”

“Tomorrow.” His gaze holds mine. “Or the boy dies.”

~*~*~

What am I going to do? I can’t hand Penny-Love over to a vengeful ghost. She can’t see ghosts anyway, so the whole idea is ridiculous. Jeremiah isn’t only dead—he’s delusional. How can Jeremiah think my friend is his dead wife? Doesn’t he remember killing and burying Hannah? If only I could ask Hannah what happened. But she’s probably already crossed over, and I’ve never been good at summoning spirits. I call out for Opal’s help, only she’s not listening. If I could find Hannah’s grave, that might give me a strong connection to her soul. Yet if no one else could find her grave in more than a decade, how can I find it before Penny-Love returns in the morning? Besides, I can’t stay any longer. I need to get back before I’m missed. Grave hunting will have to wait till tomorrow.

I join Manny in his car, and on the drive back, we try to come up with a plan. But it’s a total plan fail. No ideas.

No surprise, I can’t sleep. So I flip through the printouts Manny left with me. Names, dates, newspaper articles, financial information, and photos. Studying a photo of Jeremiah and Hannah on their wedding day, I can’t understand how he can mistake this round-faced, dimpled girl-next-door type with dramatic, trendsetter Penny-Love. The only thing they have in common is hair color.

Sighing, I twist my long blonde hair into a braid and climb into bed—then jolt up when an idea hits me. I can’t keep Penny-Love away from Wilshire Castle, but I
can
keep the ghost away from her with the right distraction.

It’s a crazy idea, but when dealing with a psycho ghost, “crazy” might just work.

~*~*~

Ridiculously early the next morning, I dig through my closet, dresser drawers, and even under my bed—which is where I finally find it. The red wig I wore once to impersonate my half-sister Jade. It’s not Hannah’s shade, more crimson than copper, but in dim light it might do the trick. All I want to do is lure Jeremiah away from the ballroom for a while. It won’t take long for Penny-Love and the other volunteers to finish.

I skip breakfast and hurry outside, hoping to show Dominic the printouts before he leaves for his first horseshoeing job. But his truck is already gone. When I hear Penny-Love’s car rattling down the driveway, I glance at the papers in my hand. I don’t want her to see them, so I hurry into the barn and leave them in the loft for Dominic. I send him a text saying I hope to see him later at the castle.

We have a smaller decorating crew, only Penny-Love, her oldest brother, Ransom, and me. While they work to make the towers secure, I say I’m going to organize the kitchen. Instead, I search for the ghost.

“Jeremiah,” I whisper as I peer into room after room.

I’m wearing the red wig, my head bent low so the hair falls like a mask hiding my face. I look even less like Hannah than Penny-Love does, but I only need to confuse Jeremiah to (a) keep him away from the ballroom, and (b) persuade him to cross into the light.

Only I can’t find the ghost. When I search through the castle, my skin remains goose bump free. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on Jeremiah. A vision slowly forms of a filmy figure kneeling on the ground, tracing his fingers on a smooth oblong rock. Not a rock, I realize as my inner-vision clarifies. A grave stone engraved: H-A-N-N-A-H.

I follow my intuitive GPS outside. Wilshire Castle is surrounded by thick woods and rolling hills dense with weeds. I take a path with a faint trail of gravel. I keep walking as if being pulled by an invisible rope, through shadows of oaks and around rocky outcroppings until I reach a meadow of yellow flowers. No weeds. And in the center of the meadow, Jeremiah huddles over the ground.

His ghostly shoulders shake as if he’s crying.

“Jeremiah,” I call out in a soft whisper, leaning forward so the red hair waves over my face.

He whirls around, his feet hovering over the ground. Anger shifts to a pale fog of shock. “You… You’re here? Hannah?”

This is too easy, I think. Whatever. I go with it. “Yes. I’m worried about you.”

When he moves closer, I hold up my hand. “Don’t come any closer. Just listen.”

His translucent form wavers to a stop. “I’ve missed you so much, Hanny. Why did you leave me?”

“You know what happened.” I point to the grave just beyond him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” I say in a forgiving voice.

“You hurt me more.” A tear slips down his ghostly cheek. “I’m sorry my job kept me away so much. I tried so hard to make you happy. I bought you those princess statues and pretty clothes and everything you wanted. But it wasn’t enough. Why did you cheat on me, Hannah?”

“I-I did?” My wig slips, but I hold it in place.

“I’ll never forget coming home early to surprise you with flowers and reservations at your favorite restaurant—only I was the one surprised. You were putting your bags in
his
car.” He aims a ghostly finger at me. “Leaving me after everything I did for you.”

“That’s terrible, but no excuse for what you did,” I accuse.

“You killed me, Hannah.” His voice breaks. “But I never stopped loving you. Then your sister told people I killed you. I wouldn’t hurt you… not ever.”

“How do you explain that?” I point to the grave.

“Revenge. I took away what you loved most.”

Life, I think. He took away her life.

He’s staring at me, frowning as if puzzled. “You’re not Hannah—you’re that psychic girl.”

“You’re right.” Glad to end this horrible charade, I pull off the wig.

His face darkens. “You promised to bring Hannah to me.”

“I can’t do that. You’re the only one who can find her, but you have to let go of all of this.” I gesture toward the castle and then to the grave. “She’s not in there anymore. She’s in the light, waiting for you.”

“You’re lying!” His roar gusts into a wind that rips the wig from my hands and sends it flying across the meadow. “You let me think she was back.”

“I had to stop you from killing anyone else,” I say, backing away.

“I never killed anyone!” Another branch snaps and is swept up in his twisting fury. “I didn’t mean to push that tower on your friend—it just happened when I got angry. When I was alive, I could control my temper. I didn’t even yell when Hannah drove away with another man. I died inside, watching my love leave me. I stopped caring about anything when friends turned against me—accusing me of killing her.”

I’m stunned by the realness of his words. “You didn’t do it?”

“I would never harm my Hanny. But everyone believed her sister. No one believed me.”

In my gut, I know he’s telling the truth. “If you didn’t kill her, what really happened? Where is Hannah?”

“I can answer that,” a voice rings out.