The Skinwalker Conspiracies - 02 (16 page)

Tabitha thought it over, pursed her lips, and said,
“He knew I hated that song. Okay Mister Ross, let’s get your fancy little computer thing out and see if you’re right about Paul.”

Sensing we’d be there more than just a few hours, I picked up Silas at the barbershop and found a hotel with a room available. Glancing at my diminished funds, I reluctantly pulled out the credit card.

Maybe I can call my autobiography: Saving the World on a Modest Budget.

Fortunately, Tabitha had listened to her widowed husband when he came here and sat on the beach. Her knowledge helped narrow the search parameters. With her help, I knew that Paul served a tour in Vietnam with the US Army, married again in ‘74 and had three children with his second wife. It was his oldest son that I eventually spoke with, pretending to call on the behalf of Silas looking for a combat buddy he’d served with.

Hanging up the phone, I looked at Tabitha for a moment before breaking her heart. “He died three years ago and was buried in Dallas. I’m very sorry.”

She sniffled and glanced away before standing.
“I’m going to step out onto the balcony for a moment.”

We didn’t have a good view of the ocean, but she stood out there gazing at Galveston Island and bawling her eyes out. I quickly reached my breaking point and walked out there to join her.

Tabitha collapsed against me and I gritted my teeth. The pain I felt when a ghost was in physical contact with me varies from spirit to spirit, but as my powers had grown, it was noticeably less than my first adventures. Still, there was some discomfort, but for Tabitha Lawrence’s sake, I endured.

“You know what the last thing I ever said to him was?”

I nodded and replied, “That you always wanted it to be like this.”

“And it was! It was going to be so beautiful, but that’s never going to happen now, is it?”

I didn’t tell her about the Lou Gehrig’s disease. She was upset enough already and didn’t need that crap piled up on top of what she was dealing with. Knowing that Paul suffered, as he witnessed his body slowly betray him, wouldn’t ease her pain one bit.

“I just can’t understand it,”
Tabitha mumbled a few times in between sobs.

“Do you want to go back in and talk to Silas? He’s got a better grip on things like this than I ever will.”

“No,”
she said wiping phantom tears from her face.
“I’m talking about a ghost who came here a few years ago. She claimed to be able to see the future and told me, ‘When he comes, teach him what you know.’ Why did she lie to me?”

A shiver went up my spine. “Come on inside, I’ve got something I want to show you.”

Tabitha was still clinging to me when I called up the internet service and brought up the Wikipedia entry for Virginia.

Gesturing to the picture I asked, “Was that the ghost?”

Tabitha nodded and replied,
“Yes that’s her. I told her all about Paul and she told me to wait for him so I could teach him what I know.”

“I think she deliberately misled you, Tabitha,” I said swallowing that large lump in my throat. The puppet mistress was pulling the strings again. “I’ve had dealings with this one before. I’m guessing that when she said ‘He,’ she really meant me.”

“Why would she fool me?”

Straightening up, I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her about this. I was probably just as innocent as she was, but I still felt dirty. “If she told you Paul was never going to show up, you wouldn’t have stayed around. You’d have gone somewhere else or just faded away and crossed over.” 

“What’s so damn special about me?”

“Mike,” Silas asked from his armchair. “Can you catch me up on what’s going on?”

“Virginia Poe was here a few years back. She lied to Tabitha and gave her hope that Paul would be coming … hope that sustained her. All so Tabby here would teach me how to pull phantoms from objects.”

I pointed at the magazine in the hands of Brother Silas. The copies were so good that he could read the print and see the pictures.

Returning my gaze to Tabby I knew she didn’t seem particularly powerful, but I pointed to her basket filled with her romance novels. “Like I said before, even the really powerful ghosts I’ve met, struggle with what you can do pretty easily.”

“What’s so useful about some books or a cigarette?”

Admittedly, if I learned this, I would never have to buy another newspaper again, but it wasn’t just a parlor trick. Putting a finger to my eyes, I reminded Tabitha about my “souvenirs” from the tussle in San Antonio. “Tabby, a lot of ghosts are violent. My best weapon against them is iron. Somehow my energy is channeled through it. The problem is I can’t always go walking around with a foot long pipe wrench in my hand. Look, I run into some ghosts who are unusually good at things. I know this one lady named Elsbeth. Her focus is so sharp that she can see through that little silver stuff they put over lottery tickets. I haven’t met another spirit that can do it yet.”

The crying shame was that Elsbeth gave it up. I blame Kevin McNeil, the lying cheat of a deceased dentist, who has turned over an undead leaf and thinks things like me actually making some money while risking my life are “wrong.”

No, I’m not bitter at all about that one – not at all.

“Well, why should I help you? You just blew into town this morning and turned my life upside down!”

She had a good point. What exactly did I have to offer? “I guess the ring,” I said. “I felt everything he felt that day. If we free the memory from it, I think it will help you pass on into whatever comes next.”

“Is Paul there?”
She wasn’t exactly warming up to my peace offering and I so didn’t have her late husband’s easy-going charm.

“I won’t lie to you. No ghost has ever been able to tell me one way or the other. I’m not sure if a ghost that’s destroyed goes to the same spot as one who is ready to cross over on their own. I don’t have the answers, Tabbycat.”

When it comes down to it, I was a master of saying the wrong things at the … well, wrong time just doesn’t cover it, so I’ll go with the worst possible time.  Using Paul’s pet name for her came out of nowhere and she had a bad reaction to hearing it.

If possible, she paled even further, while her mouth hung open. When the words came, her voice was shrill.
“Don’t talk to me like you know me! You’ve got no right to call me that! Don’t you dare!”
She paused and surged with energy fueled by her anger. The lights dimmed. She buried her hands in her head and ran through the wall cracking the mirror over the dresser when she passed through it.

Pulling out the ring, I knew I could track her down with it. I was pretty angry with her. She didn’t understand. The memory was more than just an image. I’d felt everything that Paul Lawrence did that day –
every single thing!

“Give her some time. She’s grieving,” Silas said. “Let her work it out on her own. Even the dead need space.”

“You’re right,” I replied trying to agree with him and convince myself as I shook away my irritation.

The warm night air and the smells of the Gulf of Mexico surrounded me while I sat on the balcony. I was tired, but still too jittery to sleep. I looked at the three empty Corona bottles and contemplated whether or not to open a fourth. It wasn’t doing my physical fitness regimen any good, but after the last few days, I’d earned a break, or even if I hadn’t earned one, I was damn well going to take one.

The tingling of the ring alerted me to her presence and I let the fourth bottle slide from my hand and back into the carton. Silas was already asleep and I was out here, on the off chance that Tabitha would return.

There she was. I felt the same nerves I usually got around girls I was attracted to and scolded myself for it.
She’s dead Mike. Give it up!

“Are you okay?” I asked when she phased through the sliding glass door.

She smiled and looked almost as nervous as I was.
“Better I guess. Redheads still have the same temper they had in life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied. “I’m sorry for using that name. It was way out of line.”

She sat on the chair opposite from me and looked out across the island before saying,
“It was, but I overreacted. I’ve been known to do that.”

“You don’t have to teach me anything Mrs. Lawrence. I don’t care if that upsets Virginia Poe’s little master plan for me right now. You’ve waited long enough and deserve to be happy.”

“Why’s that?”
she asked.

“Silas. He reminded me that good deeds don’t come with strings attached.”

“You’re sweet, for someone who’d likely be my grandchild’s age,”
she said.
“So this ring, it lets you see our entire last day together.”

“Yeah,” I said the word slowly and drew it out. I had a feeling I knew where she was headed. There was that period of time, before the fateful dinner date, where Paul had slipped into the shower with her with the perfectly noble intention of helping her wash the sand and suntan lotion off.

“Aren’t you a naughty little boy,”
she replied with a throaty laugh punctuating her sentence.

“If it makes any difference, I had no idea …”

She cut me off by saying,
“Then you didn’t know Paul. I’m just having a go at you, Mr. Ross. Do you want to start tonight, or tomorrow?”

“You still don’t have to,” I said.

“I realized I wasn’t angry at you, but this Virginia woman instead. Taking it out on you isn’t really fair. Sounds like you’ve got more problems with her than just little old me.”
Tabitha reached over and pulled a phantom image from one of the Coronas and twisted the cap off. She sipped it and shook her head,
“Paul liked rum and coke. I doubt he would have liked all this new fangled garbage. Lite beer? Spray on tans? Seriously? What on Earth are people thinking these days?”

I pulled the fourth bottle out and joined her. The first sip tasted different and I wondered if that was because what she had just done to it.

“That’s someone else’s problem, not mine, Mrs. Lawrence.”

“You can call me Tabitha, but only if I can call you Mike.”

I tapped my bottle to hers for that gesture of kindness.

“Of course,”
she continued.
“I do have one request.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Give Virginia a piece of my mind for me next time you see her.”

“I was planning on doing that anyway, Tabitha.”

The “school of Tabby” opened for business in the morning. In front of me were a phonebook, a deck of playing cards, and one of the hand towels from the bathroom.

Tabitha casually reached down to a copy of the Bible on the nightstand and pulled an image out. She handed it to Silas and said,
“Mike, tell him that he’ll like this better than reading about that Hilton girl.”

The old man choked up as she placed it in his hands. He whispered, “Thank you.”

There must have been something in my eye as well. I smiled at her.

She pointed at the remote control.
“It doesn’t work with gadgets and gizmos. I usually have to follow the maids, or slip into someone’s house if I want to watch the soaps. Can’t do a lighter and then a pack of cigarettes either … I have to grab one that is already lit.”