by Lyla Payne
“I know. And I’m grateful. You’re right. Without the help of the dead, neither of us would be here. I’m just not sure what that means.”
We sit in the quiet for another minute or two, then she gets up and puts our dishes in the sink. A feeling of expectation hangs in the air. It lets me know that she hasn’t forgotten about the other part of her morning request—to know what happened at Leo’s the other night.
To my surprise, I find that I’m not only ready to talk about it, but that I want to. Need to, even. I whirl around in my chair so that I can see her reaction.
“I kissed Leo the other night.”
She freezes, her back to me as water runs into her mug and over the sides. I watch her as she slowly turns around. Her jaw is hanging open slightly and there’s a sparkle in her eye that confuses me.
“Finally.”
Now it’s my turn to pick my chin up off my chest. “What do you mean, finally?”
Millie rolls her eyes, drying her hands on a towel our grandmother embroidered. It says Monday on it, and has been in use since Wednesday. Do some people really use a different towel every day?
“Come on, Grace. The two of you have had this barely restrained sexual tension since the moment you walked back into town.” She cocks her head. “I would be willing to bet it sparked up before you ever even laid eyes on Mayor Beau.”
“What does that mean?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. That you’re inclined to be more intrigued by something new and exciting rather than something you think you know everything about?” Amelia bounces over to the table, her eyes still sparkling. “So. How was it?”
“It was surprisingly hot, but that’s sadly not the point.”
“So, what is the point?”
“That it was a huge mistake.” Tears fill my eyes without warning, spilling down my cheeks with such force that I find myself gulping for air. “He…pushed…me…away.”
“Oh, Grace.” Amelia’s face rearranges into sympathy, though surprise lingers around the edges. “That explains why he hasn’t been sniffing around here over the past few days. I have to say I’m surprised, but he did just break up with Victoria.”
I snort, then rub away some snot with the back of my hand. “Yeah, like Leo’s the type to worry about moving on too quickly.”
“If that’s not it, what did he say? Surely there was something.”
My cheeks get hot at the memory of how little talking my big mouth let him do. “Just something stupid about me not being every girl. Probably building toward some lame excuse about not wanting to ruin our friendship or whatever.”
This is the second time I’ve bawled in front of her in a week and I feel like an idiot. Only I would let myself get dumped by two men in the space of a month. Well, sort of.
“Maybe it’s not bullshit, though. The whole reason you were holding back from giving Victoria a well-deserved piece of your mind was worry over the same thing, remember?” Millie sighs. “You and Leo are complicated, Grace. Besides, you can’t just lunge at someone drunkenly and expect them to throw caution to the wind in the blink of an eye.”
“Sure, take his side,” I mutter. “I wasn’t proposing, for heaven’s sake. I just thought…”
“You just thought you’d hook up because he’s comfortable and familiar and you’re lonely and probably horny, too.” She purses her lips. “But you didn’t think about how Leo might feel about it.”
That gives me a moment’s pause. I’ve been so focused on my own anger, my own humiliation, that I haven’t thought too hard about why he might have pulled away. I certainly didn’t give him time to explain.
“He’s obviously not attracted to me,” I admit, my face burning all over again. “Thanks for bringing it up.”
“Oh, Grace,” she breathes, her features twisting with disappointment. “How can you not see how he feels about you?”
“Because he doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t tell me anything, while I’ve spent months spilling my guts to him about literally everything.”
“And I guess that’s what you told him when you let your pride get the best of you the other night? That he’s been a terrible friend?”
I look away, annoyed and shamed by the anger in her voice. I don’t answer, but it’s not necessary. We both know she’s right. Also that I regret it but haven’t done a damn thing about it.
“You should apologize.”
“I think it’s too late for that. And besides, even if what I said to him was harsh, it’s still true.” I find the courage to meet her gaze. “He’s got all of these secrets that he doesn’t want to share. Our whole…whatever it was, friendship? Is one-sided.”
She watches me for a long time. I struggle to hide my discomfort, to not shift in my seat. To not fall into this trap of feeling sorry for Leo instead of myself.
“I know that might be how it looks to you right now, Grace, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been a good friend. He’s been a great friend to you, and sometimes…” She trails off, her lips hardening into a line. “Never mind.”
“No, say it,” I challenge her. Maybe because I want someone else to punish me the way I should be punishing myself.
She heaves a sigh. “Sometimes it seems like you haven’t been there for him. You expect him to talk to you about everything in his life, but you’ve never considered that might mean waiting until he’s ready.”
My throat closes up. I hate thinking that Leo doesn’t trust me; it’s even harder to stomach the thought that maybe he didn’t think that he could.
Most of all, I hate that there’s nothing I can do to take it all back. I can only live with the consequences of my stupid, drunken actions.
I stand up, needing to move, to get out of here, before I have to tell her she’s right.
“I’m going for a run.”
“I’ll see you later, Grace.”
The run both helps and hurts my mood—the rain let up, the endorphins are nice, and I push myself harder than normal, so there’s no way to focus on anything but breathing as one foot goes down in front of the other.
But the sight of Leo sitting on our bench, staring out at the river with a twisted expression of regret on his handsome face, isn’t the best way for me to forget what I’ve done. The fact that he turns to stone, not reacting or moving or trying to talk to me at all, shreds the surviving chunks of my heart.
It physically hurts, and I barely make it around the next bend and out of sight before I stop running and lean over with my hands on my head, struggling to breathe. There’s a pier a short walk away, and the emptiness of it, along with its proximity to the calming flow of the water, draws me onto the wooden planks.
A small boat house beckons at the end of the pier, and I stagger inside, making my way to the end. When I lean my elbows on the railing, splinters poke through my thin, long sleeves. I concentrate on not crying—which becomes easier the moment I notice the menacing ghost of Lavinia Fisher out of the corner of my eye.
I startle, stifling a yelp in the process, and do my best to back away from her. There’s not much space, though, and she’s blocking the exit. The malicious smile on her face gives me the unsettling sensation that she’s aware of that fact. At least, I think it’s a smile. It looks more like an animal baring its teeth before an attack.
My heart hammers in my chest. I remember asking Daria before, at least once, whether the ghosts could hurt me. For the life of me, I can’t remember what she said.
But I feel threatened. Like I want to run. If she’s the animal baring her teeth, I’m the frightened rabbit, desperate to find a way out.
“What do you want?”
She repeats the motion she made the other night, pointing first toward me, then at her own chest. Her smile grows wider, showing teeth that are rotten and blackened. Brian said most of the stories about her aren’t true, that maybe she never even killed anyone, but her malicious, evil aura convinces me that she’s at least capable of murder.
I glance dow
n, swallowing hard and doing my best not to show her that she’s getting to me. Lavinia has chosen to swap her moldering wedding dress for a simple white smock—perhaps the outfit she actually died in.
If she’s a wild animal, the last thing I should do is show her my fear.
“You changed your clothes,” I note, trying hard to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Are you going to tell the truth about everything, or just the wedding dress?”
Her ominous expression twists into one of disgust, and she shakes her head. The scent of decay washes over me, and I can’t help but gag. She smells like a dead animal left for too long on the side of the road.
I don’t want to help this ghost. Even if she wasn’t a serial killer, she’s not a good person. I feel it all the way to my bones.
But I know from experience that the only way to get rid of her is to find out what she wants and take care of it—or at least, convince her I will.
“So, you think we’re going to do something together. What?”
The ghost frowns and turns her back on me. She’s facing south, and the faint sunlight peering around the heavy, gray clouds strikes the right side of her face. Her hair is a limp shade of brown streaked with fine strands of silver. She has the impeccable posture of someone from a bygone era.
When she raises her finger this time, it’s pointed south. Toward Charleston, or perhaps toward the property where she and her husband had lived.
“You want me to go find something. Well, it will work a lot better if you get in the car with me and give directions,” I inform her. “I’m thinking of heading down to Sheldon this afternoon. How about you come with me and we can make a detour? Wherever you want.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, her lips twisted in a satisfied sneer. A brief nod seems to say she agrees with the plan.
I’m normally not so accommodating with my spirits, and it grates on me to show her such courtesy, but I really, really want her to go away. Plus, I do want to go back to that woman’s house in Sheldon. Without Travis hovering over me, I’ll have more of an opportunity to explore.
Inviting Lavinia means I won’t be able to take Mel or Will along like I’d hoped, but it’ll be worth it if I can figure out what she wants.
“I’m going home to take a shower, and then we’ll go. I’m assuming you can just poof in and out of wherever.” But she’s already gone, so I turn back toward the water after releasing an indignant huff of air. I take a moment to try to figure out how to get home without walking back past the spot where Leo was sitting.
I’m gathering the energy to move, to face this outing I’d accidentally planned for myself, when a pair of strong hands presses down on the center of my back. And shoves.
Chapter Ten
The water closes over my head before I even register that I’m falling. The rickety railing snapped without even considering trying to hold up my weight, and now the freezing river is grabbing at my clothes with icy hands, intent on dragging me along with the current. My body tries to gasp at the shock of the cold, a reaction I barely manage to stop before allowing salty water into my lungs.
I need to breathe.
It takes a moment for me to decide which way is up, since the water and the sky and everything else I can see is an awful, January gray. I think I’ve got it, but when I try to swim upward, my limbs don’t want to respond. At least, not with any enthusiasm.
Something in the water might have snagged my leggings, or my shoelace. Or it could be my veins constricting blood flow to my internal organs.
It’s sort of odd, how it almost feels as if I’m watching myself struggle toward the surface. I’m floating, mostly, my legs and arms barely moving. Panic floods my body as my lungs beg to breathe even though my brain knows there’s nothing other than icy water in front of my face.
I’m going to give up—the surface is so far away, and it seems as if it’s only getting farther. It won’t be so bad.
That’s my last thought before a shadow blocks out the dim light from above and another pair of strong hands lands on my body.
This time, though, they’re pulling me up. When my head breaks the surface and I suck in a breath of air, I want to cry from relief. I think I would have, had my face not been frozen.
I blink the cold, salty river water from my eyes and look up to see Leo Boone’s handsome face. He’s cradling me in one arm as he uses the other to pull us both toward the shore. My pride wants to swim away from him, to do this on my own, but my arms and legs are aching and numb. Traitors.
Leo says nothing, but the panicked look in his eyes, plus the fact that he keeps checking on me every five seconds, communicates enough—I must look concerning.
I wonder how long it takes a person to die from hypothermia, and as Leo’s own teeth start to chatter, my worry spreads to cover him, too.
He drags me out and onto the bank, his hands roaming my arms and legs. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”
“Someone…pushed…me,” I chatter, my teeth clacking together after every syllable. Leo’s lips are blue, and so are his fingers as they check my head for bumps and trail down my cheeks. “Need…blankets.”
“I called the cops before I jumped in after you.”
That’s when I hear the sirens. Leo glances up, relief slumping his shoulders, and then raises his arm. Someone shouts something, and before I know it, Will is by my side.
So is Ted Ryan, and between the two of them, they bundle Leo and me into the back of the police car and speed toward the hospital. The heater is on full blast even though Will has sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Leo and I are both huddled up in blankets and my teeth continue to chatter, though the mortification at being forced to sit in such close proximity to Leo is heating me up from the inside quite neatly.
“Are you okay?” he mutters, looking out his window rather than at me.
“Fine.” I heave a sigh. “It had to be you who saw me fall in.”
“Hey, it’s not like I planned to spend my afternoon sitting in the hospital surrounded by warm water bottles,” he snaps in response. “Next time I guess I should just let you drown.”
“I wasn’t drowning. I was fine.” I don’t know why I’m being so mean to Leo after he just saved my life back there. If Lavinia Fisher weren’t already dead, I would kill her myself, and enjoy it, too.
I mean, I offered to help—why would she shove me in the water? There’s no way I’m going to get in and out of this hospital fast enough to make it back to Sheldon today. Which means it’s going to have to wait until my next day off, since there’s no way I’m going there alone in the dark with a ghost who’s already tried to kill me once—so all she’s done is delay her own case.
Leo snorts, then rolls his eyes when I scoot as far away from him as possible. Which isn’t all that far in the back of a police car. Still, I find that it is much farther than I would like to be away from him. And not only because he’s a warm body.
When I meet Will’s curious gaze in the rearview mirror, I give him a look that clearly telegraphs mind your own business, and the entire car is silent for the rest of the ride. By the time we get to Heron Creek’s version of a hospital, I’m pretty sure that Leo and I don’t have hypothermia. My extremities are a bit tingly and shivers still wrack my spine, but I’m fully mobile and have my wits about me.
The two of us get taken to separate exam rooms, thank heavens. A doctor who looks as if he might have graduated from high school last spring checks me out and says that I have to stay until my body temperature comes back up to normal, but that I’m very lucky.
“Is there anyone I should call?”
I shake my head. Amelia doesn’t need to be worried. “No, but can you please ask my friend Will…er, Officer Gayle, to come in here?”
“Sure. I’ll be back in an hour or so to check on you, but I expect you’ll be ready to go by then. Snuggle up.” He taps his clipboard on my knee like a patronizing jackass before leaving the room.
They mu
st teach doctors how to do that in medical school.
It doesn’t take long for Will to stride through the door. Ted Ryan is behind him, which surprises me—I expected at least one of them would go back to the station. Instead they’re both invading my space, regarding me with twin serious expressions.
“Are you okay? Doc says you’ll be out of here in a couple of hours.” Will frowns, as if he suspects the doctor is secretly trying to kill me or something.
“I’m fine…” I make a face at Ted. “What are you doing here?”
He looks surprised—and also offended. He should get in line, because those are the two reactions I’ve been getting out of people for the past couple of days. “We need to take your statement about what happened.”
“Oh…I fell in?”
“You fell in.” Will’s face is the most dubious I’ve ever seen it. Which is truly saying something, considering everything I’ve attempted to talk him into over the years. “Gracie, the railing was cracked in half. You weigh, like, a hundred and twenty pounds. How is that possible?”
Ted’s waiting, an air of glee about him that promises endless ridicule if I admit that a ghost pushed me into the river. I turn to Will, pleading with my eyes. Surely he can read my silent expressions after knowing me basically my entire life.
“Well, I mean…those railings are rotten,” I reply with a totally serious expression. “We should probably say something to the town council about it before someone else ends up in the same predicament.”
“Lots of things have been falling apart since Mayor Drayton left.” Ted winks. “Right, Graciela?”
“Okay, thanks, Ryan,” Will rushes in before I can throttle one of his only deputies. “If you could head back down to the docks and put tape up warning people about the railing, that would be great.”
“What about you? We’re in the same car.”
“I’ll walk back.”
Ted casts a curious glance between the two of us, clearly not all that happy at being dismissed, but in the end he doesn’t argue. It’s impressive to watch Will step into this leadership role. Despite the way that my Sunday is turning out, I can’t help but feel proud.
