The Ghost Files 3 (34 page)

“My husband died,” Georgina says. “I already told you that.”

“Mama, Mama,” Jacob calls from somewhere in the tall grass. “Come find me, Mama!”

“Mattie, wake up!”

I blink my eyes open and see Mary standing above me. I must have fallen asleep.

“Finally,” she says. “I’ve been shaking you for a full minute. You were out.”

No, I was in a memory. I think. I’m not really sure what that was. But telling Mary anything is a bad idea.

“Come on, we need to go. It’s already after ten. If we want to get home before dinner, we’d better hurry!”

I sit up and pull on shoes. That dream is bothering me. Maybe because
it wasn’t a dream. It felt different from a dream or memory. I’ll ask Doc about it, I guess. He should be here sometime tonight. Either way, I don’t have time to worry about it right now. Mary and I have to go shopping. I can only hope the ordeal isn’t as traumatizing with Mary as it was with Meg.

Who am I kidding? Mary loves to shop.

This is going to be another torturous afternoon.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I’ve been poked, prodded, and fussed over for the last two hours.

My father insisted I arrive with him to the ball, so I’m getting ready at the penthouse apartment. He wants to re-introduce me as Emma Rose Mathilda Hathaway Crane. We’d come to a compromise on the name after hours of debate. He doesn’t understand my insistence, and hates the added names really, but he realizes how important remaining Mattie is to me. I’m grateful for that. Even though legally I’m Emma, I’m
still
Mattie, and being able to keep the name my mom gave me means a lot.

Nerves eat at me. The stylist has been working on my hair for over an hour. She’d fussed something awful about split ends and tangled curls. I think she might have shot me for hair homicide if she’d had a gun. My hair is curly. No helping that and there are days I don’t want to spend an hour or more taming them. I throw them back into a pony tail unless I have a date. Then I will do whatever it
takes to tame them into something resembling decent curls.

I stare at the dress hanging on the closet door and I want to puke. I don’t do dances. Never have
, really. Sure I went to a couple of school dances over the years, but I never really danced and I hadn’t been wearing a dress that cost enough to buy a small car. My hands shake just a little. I’m afraid I’ll be a huge disappointment to Zeke. Not sure sheer bravado will cut it this time.

“Mmm…perfect,” Zora, the stylist, proclaims at last and spins me around. I blink at my own reflection, not recognizing myself. She’s pulled up my hair into a mass of cascading curls. I can see small white pearls decorating the curls and a red ribbon is threaded throughout. My makeup is soft and natural. It doesn’t look like I’m wearing any, except for my eyes. She’s outlined them so the hazel shines brightly, the browns and green blending beautifully. I
don’t
look like me. It’s…disturbing, to say the least. Maybe I did inherit some of Zeke’s genes after all.

“Come, let’s get you dressed.”

I glance from the mirror to where Zora is taking down my dress. Standing, I walk over and let her help me put on the gown. It’s a dark shade of red, the hoop-like skirt fanning out softly. It’s not a huge hoop, though. Just enough to puff it out. Once she has me zipped up, she helps me slip on the strappy black heels Mary loaned me.

My image in the full-length mirror beckons and I stand before it, looking at the stranger staring ba
ck at me. This girl looks like…no, I won’t say it, but I remember watching the Miss America contests. The girl in the mirror is beautiful and elegant.
She
is worthy of being a Crane. She
isn’t
Mathilda Louise Hathaway.

I’m not sure how I feel. It’s hard to explain.

“Zora, she’s beautiful.”

My hazel eyes meet my father’s in the mirror. His smile is full of pride and it makes me smile in return.

“You look just like your mother,” he tells me, his eyes going to the ruby necklace I’d put on earlier. Since it had belonged to Melissa, my mother, for some reason I want to wear something of hers to my first formal dance. “You’ve grown into such a lovely young woman, Em…Mattie.”

“Thank you,” I murmur. Zeke calls me Emma sometimes, but usually corrects himself. I’ve been Mattie for the last sixteen years. It’s who I am and he’s trying so hard to let me be that person, despite his own desires.

“I have something for you.” He walks over to the dressing table and opens the black box I hadn’t noticed before. He lifts out a beautiful red-and-black mask with matching feathers fanning out at the eyes. It’s one of those fancy ones you see in movies where people are attending masquerades. It’s exquisite. “I’ll help you put it on before we get out of the limo.”

Limo? Holy crap. That will be a
really
new experience for me, but I’m sure it’s something very commonplace for Zeke. I’d much rather be going with Caleb and Eli in their pickup truck, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for the shindig we’re attending.

“Will your young man be here soon?” Zeke asks. “It’s almost time to go.”

“No,” I say. “He’ll meet us there. Caleb is going too, so they’re arriving together.”

“Very good.” Zeke nods. “Well, then, we should be on our way.”

The black limo waiting for us stretches out for forever. My eyes widen at the sight. I’ve never ridden in one before. The interior is plush and roomy, equipped with a small fridge. My father thanks the driver and settles back to watch me with an indulgent expression as I explore the interior.

“You’re nervous,” Zeke says after a bit.

I shrug. I am, but it is what it is.

“Don’t be,” he tells me. “I know it’s very unfamiliar for you, but it’s nothing
, really. Just a bunch of people gathered around talking and dancing. That’s all it is. Very boring, really. You won’t have to do anything but have fun. You look beautiful tonight,
ma petite
.”

I give him a shaky smile and turn to look out the window. The Policemen’s Ball is being held in South Charlotte at the Queen City Ballroom. Meg assured me it was the most elegant ballroom in Charlotte. At least dressed like this, I don’t think I’ll feel as out of place as I’d originally thought I would.

“How is Daniel?” Zeke interrupts my thoughts. “I heard he was released from the hospital today.”

“Well, it’s more like he signed himself out
.” I snort. I still can’t believe he did that! He should have stayed at least two more days. His doctor was not at all happy. I keep ignoring Dan’s calls and texts. I’m so mad at him I could hit him. I don’t want to yell at the guy because he doesn’t need that right now, so I’ll just ignore him until I cool down a little.

“That was not a wise choice.” Zeke frowns.

“No, it wasn’t,” I agree. “He’s worried about his parents, though. His being home is the only thing that’s keeping their arguments from exploding.”

“It has to be a very unpleasant situation,” Zeke murmurs. “I’m not sure what I’d do if I were in Mr. Richards’ place.”

You’d kill her and dump the body, I think. A chill sweeps down my spine as I realize how true my words might be. Zeke admits to being shady, and well… not nice.

The limo slows and the urge-to-hurl sensation assaults me. No, no, no. When the car stops, I take several deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. I am Mattie Hathaway and I
can
do this.

“Are you all right?” Zeke asks, his eyes boring into mine. There’s concern there, but also a ton of arrogance. He expects me to buck up and be a Crane. Whatever.

“Fine,” I say and straighten up. Mattie Hathaway doesn’t run from anything, no matter how scared she might be. “Shall we?”

Zeke grins at me, approval shining in his eyes. “Of course,
ma petite
.” He helps me put on my mask and then dons his own, before signaling to the driver we’re ready.

When the door opens, Zeke gets out and then assists me. It’s harder to get out of the danged car wearing this dress than it was to get in. Stupid hoop. I blink when flashbulbs go off in my face. No one said anything about the press being here!

“Smile,” Zeke whispers in my ear and then leads me towards the entrance. We go up the steps and I let out a small sigh of relief once inside. Zeke hands over our invitation, making sure to let them know my ‘plus one’ will arrive separately.

Once inside, I forget all about my nerves and start people watching. It’s amazing. I can see the main ballroom from here. It’s lit up with thousands of tiny lights that seem to be floating. Not sure how Meg managed that one, but it
’s very cool. The people milling around are dressed in an array of different dresses and tuxedos. I’m surrounded by a sea of taffeta, silk, and satin. I’d be in heaven if only I had my sketchpad. Once I get home, my head will be spinning with images and I’ll probably be up all night drawing.

“Finally!”
says a familiar voice. Meg.

She says hello to Zeke and then grabs my hand, dragging me away. She’s determined to repair our friendship, even if I’m not. “You look gorgeous,” she squeals once we stop by the refreshments table. She shoves a bottle of water at me, knowing I won’t touch anything that’s sitting out. Yep, she remembers that
I never, ever drink when I can’t guarantee what’s in it. It’ll keep a girl from getting herself drunk or raped. That’s been the Mattie-way forever.

“You look good, too,” I tell her. “The place looks fabulous.”

“Cost a small fortune, but worth it,” she says with a grin. Her dark blue gown makes her eyes bluer. Her golden-blonde hair is done up in a super-nice coiffure, whatever it’s called. As always, she’s beautiful. “Have you seen Jake?”

“Jake?” I ask.

“He said he was going to apologize to you for being an ass.”

“Oh, yeah. I saw him at the lake and he apologized.”

“Good. I told him not to make me hunt him down and hurt him,” Meg hops for a second and I frown at her. What is she doing? “Sorry,” she mutters. “My shoes are killing me.”

“It’s those six inch heels.” I laugh. “I warned you not to get those torturous things.”

“Look who’s talking.” She snorts. “
You’re
wearing…” She stops and notices I’m not much taller than usual. “You’re
not
wearing them!”

“Nope,
” I grin and stick out my foot, showing off Mary’s two inch heels.

“So evil
,” she sighs.

“Nope, not evil, just smart,” I say and wink. It’s easy to fall back into our old habits. I have missed her a lot more than I want to admit. “Have you checked on Dan?”

“He told me
you
were ignoring him.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Stupid of him to check himself out of the hospital. I swung by on my way to the salon and visited. Aside from a headache, he seems to be okay.”

“You know how mean I can get when I’m pissed,” I say. “I didn’t want to upset him
, so the easiest thing was just to say nothing.”

Meg nods. “Yeah. Wish I’d thought of that.
I
yelled at him.”

“One of us needed to,” I say. He needs to be in the hospital. Like everyone says, head wounds are tricky.

Meg groans. “Not again, this year you don’t! Excuse me for a sec.”

Huh? What? I watch her march over to where several officers are clustered around the punch bowl. I see the canister in their hands about a second before Meg blasts them. They flee like the hounds of Hades are pursuing them. I laugh at the terrified looks on their faces. Meg is a holy terror when she wants to be. Then someone calls her name and she heads towards the left.

I wish Eli would get here. I’m nervous about his reaction to the dress. He’s never seen me all super-girlified. Just thinking about the look in his eyes is enough to make me blush. He’d texted earlier to say he was running late. Caleb had a slight mishap with his tux and their mom was repairing the damage.

Looking around, I can’t help but compare this place to the vision-memory of Captain Hiller and Harper Sterling. We’d never had the opportunity to ask anybody about that. We need to, though. I’m supposed to go to Eli’s house for dinner tomorrow night, so I can ask Mrs. Malone then. The gowns I see here are sleeker, more modern, but still very similar to the gowns at that party. It’s the hoops, I think. The Civil War era fashions were hooped
dresses and tight corsets for the ladies. I shudder just thinking about a corset. There’s another torture device. Honestly, why women would ever even think about putting one on is ridiculous. Women died from wearing those things. They’d cinch them up so tight, they couldn’t breathe. Stupid.

My eyes sweep the ballroom again looking for Eli, but they pause when they land on the girl. She’s standing a few feet from an open doorway. Water drips from her body, pooling onto the floor. Her face is covered in slash marks, like someone took a knife and carved intricate designs into the flesh. Her eyes aren’t full of rage, only confusion. She’s scared and lost. I look for Zeke, but he’s caught up in a conversation with the mayor.