by C. C. Hunter
Chapter Twenty-one
An hour later, Lucas left to go to a hiking class and Kylie continued her online research. She'd read most of the articles on the Web sites containing information about Berta Littlemon. She'd also done a quick search on Catherine O'Connell, the woman who'd ratted on Jane. Not just because Kylie intended to keep her promise to her-a deal was a deal-but because she wanted to know if the woman was honest.
Kylie's quick search on the information Catherine had given her proved to be true. But did that also mean she was right about Jane Doe?
So far, she'd found one other site that had a picture of Berta Littlemon, but it too had been so fuzzy that Kylie couldn't swear it was her Jane Doe. Sure, she had brown hair and it appeared to have been long at one time, and the facial features were similar, but . . . there was still hope.
A lot more hope when Kylie vaguely remembered something that Holiday had told her about spirits who were overall bad.
Almost as if thinking the woman's name had worked magic, Kylie heard Holiday's voice.
"Can I come in?"
Kylie saw Jonathon jerk from a dead sleep, then she bolted from her chair, ran across the living room, and threw her arms around Holiday.
"I'm so glad you're home," Kylie said, releasing the camp leader only after a good long hug. She'd missed talking with Holiday, missed having her around. But Kylie probably missed Holiday's hugs most of all. "I have so many things to ask you, to tell you. " She was about to dump her emotional trauma on the woman when Kylie suddenly remembered the reason Holiday had been away. Her aunt had died. And the death had rocked Holiday's world to its core.
Maybe, Kylie realized, Holiday already had enough on her plate and didn't need Kylie to add more.
Kylie paused a moment to catch her breath. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry about your aunt. Did you get things settled?"
"I'm fine. " Holiday gripped Kylie's shoulders as if she understood Kylie's thoughts. "And yes, I think I managed to get everything in order. The important question is if you're okay. Are you?"
Jonathon sat up on the sofa, looking half-asleep. Holiday must not have seen him earlier because she jumped a little at the sound of him shifting.
"Oh, Jonathon. You startled me. " Holiday stared at the sleepy vampire.
"Do I need to stay here now that you're here?" he asked.
Holiday looked at her watch. "I should be here for an hour, and Della will be back before that, so if you want to go, you can. " They watched Jonathon leave, then Holiday draped an arm around Kylie's shoulder. "Now, tell me what's going on with you. "
Kylie met her gaze. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
"Is it that bad?" Holiday's brows creased with worry.
"No. Well, yeah, it is, but I mean, can you handle my problems right now with your own?" Kylie looked at Holiday with empathy. "I know what it feels like to lose someone. When my grandmother died, I could hardly breathe. "
Holiday smiled. "I'm fine. I'm still grieving a bit," she added honestly. "But let's just say I'm using the Kylie Galen method of dealing with my problems. "
"Which is what?" Kylie asked, puzzled.
Holiday grinned. "Concentrating on everyone else's problems, so I don't have time to think about mine. " She looked Kylie right in the eye. "Seriously, I'm fine. Now, tell me what you learned at the cemetery. And then we have a lot of things to discuss. "
Kylie started walking over to the kitchen table and then remembered the imminent question she'd wanted to ask Holiday. She swung back around.
"One thing first. Didn't you tell me one time that really bad souls don't hang around, that hell claims them pretty quickly?"
"In most cases, that's right. But there are some that. . . " Worry pinched Holiday's brows together. "Why?"
Kylie frowned, and just like that, all the frustration from earlier landed on her shoulders with a big thump. "Why does everything have to have exceptions? It would be so nice to ask a question and get a definite yes or no. It's either black or white. " She dropped into a kitchen chair. "Life would be so much easier. "
"Easier, yes. But realistic . . . no. Few things are ever black or white. " Holiday tilted her head to one side and studied Kylie for a moment, then frowned. "Please tell me you haven't gotten mixed up with a hell-bound spirit. "
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Kylie sat beside Holiday as she read the different articles about Berta Littlemon on the computer screen.
"That's it. I can't read any more!" Holiday reached over and turned off the computer. "You shouldn't even being reading this. You are not to deal with this spirit anymore. " Something about Holiday's tone, so maternal, so un-negotiating, sent up warning flags all over the place.
"We don't know it's even her," Kylie said. "I can't just assume she-"
"Yes, you can! You said the other ghost told you that your Jane Doe rose from the grave of Berta Littlemon. That's good enough for me. "
Kylie frowned. "Yeah, but maybe she's lying. And you saw the pictures of Berta. They are fuzzy. I mean, yes, they sort of resemble my Jane Doe, but they're not clear enough for me to be sure. "
"Okay, but why would the ghost lie?"
Kylie shrugged. "Because if she didn't have information that sounded useful, she might have been afraid I wouldn't have agreed to help her. "
"Wait-help who? The old man's wife?"
Kylie realized she'd obviously left out that part of the story when she'd explained everything to Holiday. "No, the other ghost. Catherine O'Connell. I agreed to help her if she'd tell me what she knows about Jane Doe. "
"No," Holiday said, and put her palms over her face.
"No, what?"
Holiday moved her hands. "You never make a deal with a spirit, Kylie. Never!"
"Why?" Kylie asked.
"Because it can be as bad as making a deal with the devil. What they want is sometimes impossible, and they can be relentless about making us pay up. If they think you haven't delivered on your promise, things can get ugly. "
Kylie felt her throat tighten. She had looked forward to Holiday's return so much, and now it seemed all Kylie was going to get were reprimands. "I didn't know," she muttered.
Holiday released a deep sigh. "I'm sorry," she said, and dropped her hands on top of Kylie's. "I didn't mean to snap at you. This is my fault. All of it. I knew that your going to the cemetery was a bad idea. I should have vetoed it right off the bat. "
Kylie swallowed the tightness down her throat, which had seemed to lessen somewhat with Holiday's touch. "It wasn't a bad idea. And maybe I shouldn't have made a deal with Catherine, but even that doesn't seem so bad. I mean, what she wants is doable and for a good cause. "
Holiday shook her head, still looking too unrelenting. "It's still not a good idea to make a deal with a spirit. "
"Yeah, but all she wants is for me to send some family history stuff to her kids. She's Jewish and she lied to them and her own husband all her life because back then, being a Jew wasn't so cool. Her parents died in the concentration camps and her grandparents managed to bring her to the U. S. She changed her name. And now, it feels like a lie. "
Holiday shook her head. "Kylie, I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this. "
"No. " Kylie stood up, and although she kept her voice low, even she heard the determination in her tone. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to stop any of this because you're afraid I'm in over my head. Because you don't think I can handle it. I'm helping Jane Doe, and I'm sorry, but I don't believe she's this murderer, and I'm also going to help Catherine O'Connell. It's the right thing to do. "
Holiday closed her eyes in frustration. "Kylie, you don't understand how dangerous this could be for you. There are things about dealing with evil spirits that . . . that will put you at risk. There is so much you still don
't know. "
Kylie shook her head. "Then explain it to me. But I'm telling you, Holiday, I don't think she's evil. How many times have you told me to follow my heart-that if I do that, I'll figure out the right thing to do? Well, my heart is telling me to do this, and I'm doing it. "
When Holiday opened her mouth, presumably to argue again, Kylie added, "Besides, I wasn't asking you for permission. I was asking for advice. "
