His Haunting Kiss Read online

  Bernie eyed me. “Watch that sass, whippersnapper. We’re giving you dinner.”

  I kissed his cheek. “Careful, old man. We don’t want your blood pressure to rise.”

  “One of these days, you ought to get that roommate of yours to come eat, too. She works too damn hard.”

  “She’s at work tonight,” I lied. I’d told Bernie and Gladys that Sherrie was a nurse who worked long, odd hours. “Maybe next time.”

  Bernie returned to his game show, and I took the dim hallway that led to their eat-in kitchen. The walls on the way were plastered with photos of their five kids and their passel of grandchildren.

  Gladys owned a bakery in town called “Hot Cross Delights.” She was the best cook I’d ever met, and her desserts were to-die-for. As a result, her kitchen was by far the best room in the house because, contrary to the way they bickered, Bernie moved mountains to make his wife happy.

  Recessed lighting illuminated a cut tile floor in peach. The cabinets were white, half of them inset with glass to reveal the China inside. Gladys had the best appliances — top-of-the-line. I always thought the stove looked like something off a futuristic spaceship.

  Gladys Ludbetter was the opposite of her large-and-in-charge husband. She was a tiny thing, five-foot-nothing, ninety-pounds soaking wet, and as unassuming as a woman could get. She had her graying blonde hair down around her shoulders as she hugged me in greeting.

  “How’s the ghost hunting business, dear?” she asked, turning to slide oven mitts on her hands.

  I sat in a chair at the kitchen table and grimaced. “Busy lately.”

  “I heard from Katie Malone you’re investigating Horeland Estate?” Gladys opened the oven and reached for an aluminum covered dish that smelled like meaty heaven.

  “Word travels fast,” I remarked drily. Katie Malone was Vespers’ mother.

  “You know how it is here in Tory.” Gladys sighed, setting the pan on the stove and closing the oven door as she pushed a button to turn the unit off. “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Horeland. You know that Bernie is distantly related to the Horelands?”

  I started. “What?”

  “Oh, yes, dear. His mother was the daughter of Anita Horeland. Poor thing, she was disowned by her daddy… oh, what was his name? Bernard!”

  In the living room, the television muted. “What?”

  “Dinner’s ready. What was your great-grandaddy’s name?”

  “Roger!”

  Gladys handed me a glass dish of mashed potatoes. “Roger Horeland, that’s right.”

  “That’s Jacob’s father’s dad, right?” I was murky on the details. Ian and I hadn’t read much beyond his generation and the surrounding ones.

  Bernie appeared in the doorway, holding out his hands for the meatloaf tray. “No, Jacob’s great-grandfather. My Mom and Jacob’s dad were the same generation, but Mother had me early and Jacob, Sr. had his son late.”

  I followed Bernie’s bulk to the dining room and we deposited our trays on the table. Gladys had two maroon pillar candles merrily gleaming in the center, and the stereo was playing 60s hits on low volume.

  I waited until we’d settled in our chairs before I asked Bernie, “Do you know much about the Horeland family?”

  Gladys tinkled with laughter. “Oh, dear. He’s absolutely obsessed with them. He’s done all sorts of research. He’s been waiting for the right time to ask you if you would introduce him to your brother-in-law. He wants to see the inside of Horeland Estate.”

  “Gladys!” Bernie barked, a flush to his cheeks that had nothing to do with his freshly topped glass of wine.

  I grinned. “No, it’s okay, Bern. I’d be happy to. On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “Let me pick your brain for a minute.”

  He nodded, shoving a forkful of meatloaf in his mouth.

  “Ian Clarke. What do you know?”

  Bernie chewed and swallowed, then shook his head. “That was a sad time. The daughter, Ramona? She was pregnant when they found out she had cancer. Very sad. Died pretty quick. Ian went missing not long after, if I remember correctly.”

  “Are there any family legends to explain why?”

  Bernie shrugged. “Anytime something like that happens, people make conjectures. He ran away with a mistress. He took a walk in the forest and disappeared — you know how the forests surrounding Tory can be dangerous.”

  Didn’t I know it, I thought, imagining my body at the bottom of Tory River.

  “Was there wind of him being murdered?”

  Bernie put his fork down and reached for his wine, an eyebrow raising. “Why are you so interested in Ian Clarke? He wasn’t even a Horeland.”

  “It’s come up in your investigation, hasn’t it, dear?” Gladys asked, her eyes bright. “Oh my goodness. You’ve seen his ghost?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “I’ve never heard anything suggesting he was murdered,” Bernie said, then sipped his wine. “But you gotta remember, scandal was easy to cover up back then. Did the Old Man kill him?”

  I shook my head. “No. In the graveyard, a woman named Nicole is the only one with something on her tombstone. It’s a cherub’s face, and it’s looking towards a grave marked only by an ‘R.’ Do you think that could be Richard Junior?”

  Bernie nodded, his hair flopping. “Definitely. Nicole was Richard Junior’s older sister. So Ian’s sister-in-law.”

  “Do you know anything about Richard’s death?”

  “Fell down the stairs. I imagine he broke his neck. Never seen the staircase.” He gazed at me imploringly.

  Laughing, I assured him, “You’ll see it. I think Richard killed Ian.”

  Bernie’s brow furrowed. “He was a tough character. Got in a lot of brawls, gambled quite a bit. I could see that.”

  “There has to be a motive for murder,” Gladys piped in, moving her mashed potatoes around on her plate. “Ramona was dead, so she had nothing to do with it. What motive could Richard Junior possibly have had to kill his brother-in-law?”

  That was the ten-million-dollar question.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After dinner, I met Ves and Trevor at Starbucks as planned. It was something I did nearly every night, something I’d done for years now. This time, it felt hollow.

  My life as I knew it was over. One small piece of information made me feel like an outsider, different from the girl I was before. I’d learned an unforgettable truth, and it hung over me like a pall.

  I was dead. I was a ghost.

  I could only muster a half-hearted wave for my friends as I headed for the counter to order a coffee.

  Did I want to tell them? Or more importantly, did I want to tell Vespers? Sure, she knew I could see and talk to ghosts, but being one of them was another story. She could laugh or run away or have me sent to a psych ward. I wasn’t sure I could handle her rejection or disbelief in the wake of everything else.

  This is my best friend, I told myself sternly. The girl who had taken it at face value the day I told her I could see ghosts. The girl who had jumped wholeheartedly at my suggestion we start a ghost hunting business. The girl with whom I shared everything.

  I walked to the table, watching her laugh at something Trevor had said. When Ves laughed, she did it with her whole body: shoulders bouncing, head thrown back, hands slapping her legs. It was beautiful. So normal.

  “I need to talk to you. Girl stuff,” I said, smiling at Trevor.

  He held up both hands, his eyes widening. “I don’t wanna hear it, and I don’t wanna know.”

  The reaction I expected.

  “We’ll be right back,” I promised, and pulled Vespers to the bathroom.

  The door clicked shut behind us. It was cool in the small room, and quiet. Ambient sounds from the café of milk steaming, coffee grinding, and patrons chatting barely made it through the heavy wood door.

  There was no use in tiptoeing around the subject. When it came to Ves, she was as straig
htforward and honest as a person could be, and I tried to do the same thing for her.

  So I told her: “I’m an Earthbound.”

  She didn’t say anything right away, staring at me with one eyebrow raised. “Have you been doing drugs?”

  “I’m serious, Ves.”

  “So am I.”

  “Shut up and listen to me,” I said, exasperated. I outlined Arimea’s blog post, keeping it quick and to the point, and then went on to tell Vespers everything about Ian and me — not leaving anything out.

  “That’s why I have these powers,” I told her, slumping to the toilet as if it were a chair, even though my butt sank in the center over the water. “I died. When I was nine. But I was alone, and nobody ever knew. I just left my body behind and started a new existence and forgot.”

  “But that’s not possible,” Vespers murmured, avoiding my gaze. “I mean, right? You’re so alive. You have your period! You broke your arm in high school!”

  “Different levels of existence,” I said, remembering Ian’s words from the first time we met. “Ves, we don’t know anything about death. It’s this ultimate mystery of living. What if it isn’t an ending? What if it’s the next step on our journey? What if being Earthbound is just another facet of existing?”

  “But you’ve aged.”

  “Because I didn’t realize I’d died,” I said softly. “So I continued to grow and form like we’re supposed to. I must have brought about the changes myself. Subconsciously.”

  “That’s insane,” Vespers said, slumping against the sink. “I thought Earthbounds were stuck where they died. Wouldn’t that mean you couldn’t leave the river?”

  I shook my head. “I thought so, too. Until Ian told me he could go anywhere he wanted. Ian has proved all of my theories wrong.”

  “What about Sherrie?”

  I froze, realizing what I’d already known the minute I met Ian. “Sherrie isn’t an Earthbound. She’s an evolved shade.”

  Vespers crossed the room and sank to her knees in front of me. We probably looked ridiculous, me on the toilet with my head in my hands and Ves in front of me as if she were proposing. I’d had a lot of conversations in bathrooms during my life, but this one was the strangest.

  “We’ve always thought my powers were psychic.” I looked up, catching Vespers’ eye before she could speak. “What if my powers aren’t really a gift at all, and just a normal part of me being an Earthbound? What if I’m dead?”

  Vespers pulled my hands away from my face, entwining her fingers with mine atop my knees. “Then we move forward from here. Boss, I love you whether you’re alive or dead. Nothing can change that. You’re my best friend.”

  Her statement, delivered with watery eyes, was enough to set off my own tears. She sat up on her knees to gather me in a hug. We clutched each other in the Starbucks bathroom, Vespers giving me strength.

  *

  “The fireplace,” I said, sliding into a chair across from Trevor.

  If he noticed that Ves and I had red-rimmed eyes, he made no comment. “What about the fireplace?”

  “It’s the greatest source of power in the entire house. I think Ian died in Madison’s office, because that’s where he feels the strongest. The house can’t affect him there.”

  “So you think the fireplace is the dark energy’s source?” Vespers asked, jotting that down in her notebook.

  “There’s not going to be a test, Ves,” I said wryly.

  She stuck out her tongue, and I loved her for the normality. “I’m organizing our thoughts, because you’re not capable of doing so.”

  “I want to investigate the fireplace,” I went on, taking a drink of my coffee even though it was lukewarm. “It’s the only lead I have, other than the fact the energy is changing the house.”

  “A good question is why that’s happening,” Trevor added. “This thing has a grudge.”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That could be true. It’s changing the house because it has something against it. Or the people in it, past or present.”

  “So it’s personal, not just random,” Vespers said, scratching at her notebook.

  “No, it’s not random,” I said slowly, the idea settling in. “It’s definitely not.”

  “Are we going back out there tonight?”

  I shook my head. “No. I need a break. We’ll go out tomorrow morning and work in the daylight. At least we can have that on our side.”

  “You need a break?” Trevor said, eyes wide.

  The look on Vespers face was equally shocked.

  “What? I run down, you know.”

  “You haven’t taken a break in years,” Vespers reminded me. “What on earth is making you now?”

  “Overload,” I said, but ultimately, I didn’t want to get my friends hurt.

  There was no guarantee if they died that they would get up and walk into a new life.

  Chapter Twenty

  My phone chirped as I locked my apartment door behind me. As Saoirse rubbed my ankles, I dug it out of my bag and unlocked the screen.

  Pick me up.

  I laughed out loud and deleted the message. “Nope, not anymore, Alan.”

  Then I took it one step further and deleted his number entirely. The elation that came over me felt incredible, but the moment itself was a little anticlimactic.

  Sherrie looked up from the couch as I walked into the room, giving me a smile over her open book. “How was your day?”

  “Illuminating. I’m going to bed.”

  Sherrie glanced at the clock. “It’s only nine.”

  “My head hurts. See you in the morning.”

  I read for a long time, escaping the day in the only way I knew how. I could disappear in a Rom Com where there weren’t ghosts, dead people, murders, or dark, creepy houses. When I finally turned out the light, it was just past two in the morning.

  I was cuddled on my side, Saoirse purring against my belly, when his weight settled against me. Ian spooned me, his arm drawing me into his warmth.

  “I missed you,” I murmured as he kissed my shoulder.

  “And I you, my sweet.”

  “I hoped you would come.”

  His breath tickled my ear. “Always.”

  “You make me feel safe,” I murmured, my eyes heavy.

  “You make me feel alive.”

  I fell right to sleep.

  *

  I’d seen more of my sister the past few days than I had in weeks. She answered the door in Grecian sandals and a maxi-dress, looking like a million bucks even at eleven in the morning.

  My mind was so full of ghosts, dark entities, and the fact that I was, you know, DEAD, that I couldn’t even be snarky. Seeing her look so cover model-ready made me hate her as much as I loved her, but I didn’t say a damn word.

  “You’re awake early,” she said, blinking at me.

  “A lot has gone down, and I need you to trust me,” I greeted her, holding out a white paper bag. It was her favorite donut from a local bakery.

  “Should I leave?” Madison asked simply, peering into the bag.

  I glanced at Vespers, who shrugged.

  “Yes,” I told my sister. “Jacob, too.”

  Madison nodded once. “Jacob’s at the office. Let me get my purse.”

  As she disappeared up the stairs, Vespers, Trevor, and I headed into the living room, bags of equipment in hand.

  I set my duffel on the table and walked to the fireplace, running my hand down the mantel. The source felt stronger today, a steady pulse on my aura that gave me a headache the longer I stood there.

  “This has to be it,” I called over my shoulder. “It’s stronger. After what’s happened here with Ian…” I trailed off, glancing at my teammates.

  Vespers covered a smile with her hand, realizing my blunder.

  “Who’s Ian?” Trevor asked, looking back and forth between us with his patented out-of-the-loop look.

  “I am.”

  As one, the three of us turned towards the v
oice in the doorway. Ian stood there in his usual garb, his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high. He was so regal. And beautiful.

  “Ian!” I gasped. Not because I was surprised by his appearance. I knew he was in the house. Surprised because he’d manifested for my friends. He was a sight for my sore, tired eyes, even though we’d only parted ways a couple hours before after another night of simply holding each other. He hadn’t come out and said it, but I had a feeling Ian simply wanted human contact after decades of being denied.

  Who was I to stand in the way?

  I rushed across the room and jumped in his arms, tightening my embrace around his neck. “You’re here to help.”

  “Of course I am,” he murmured, his palms spreading over my back.

  The hug might have dragged a little longer than necessary.

  “New friend?” Madison asked, appearing in the foyer with her tiny clutch purse in one hand and her car keys in another.

  I dropped my arms from Ian’s neck and grinned sheepishly. “Madison, this is Ian. My boyfriend. Ian, my sister Madison.”

  “Pleasure,” Madison said, offering her hand.

  “Miss Horeland. The pleasure is mine.” He kissed her knuckles, eliciting a giggle from her.

  “Good choice, sis,” Madison said as he straightened. “Try not to scare this one off, ‘kay?” She waggled her fingers and left, the front door shutting behind her.

  “Boyfriend?” Ian asked, looking at me askance. “Is this a word that means we are courting?”

  Vespers snorted. “Courting.”

  I glared at her. “My best friend, Vespers, and our other partner, Trevor,” I said, gesturing to them. “You’re welcome to ignore them.”

  “I should think not,” Ian said, winking. “We have a creature to defeat. All the help we have available would be a boon.”

  “He talks funny,” Trevor whispered to Vespers, though it carried to us. He’d never been good at whispering.

  “His help we could do without,” I said, squeezing Ian’s hand. I crossed the room to the fireplace as I remarked flippantly, “He’s not very smart.”

  Trevor shook his head. “My master’s degree resents that remark.”