The Ghoul Next Door

by Victoria Laurie

  “The same as before?” I asked.

  “Yes. He was always being attacked by a knife-wielding, faceless man who would grab him from behind and put the blade at his throat. He said he couldn’t sleep and Steven prescribed him some sleeping pills, which helped for a while.”

  “He managed to get a few nights’ rest,” Steven said. “But then the shadows started appearing.”

  “Shadows?” I repeated.

  “Just like Luke had told Courtney,” Steven explained. “It was when Courtney’s friends left and the house was quiet again. We started to catch small glimpses of a flickering shadow. Sometimes it was like someone passed very quickly just out of view. It was the sense of movement more than actually being able to see anything.”

  “Meanwhile,” Courtney said, taking over the story again, “Luke was having a harder and harder time at night. The sleeping pills weren’t working, and I got a little crazy myself from worrying over him. I went out and bought a dozen crucifixes and put them all over the house—I put three in his room alone—but that only seemed to heighten the negative energy in the house. Nobody wants to be alone there, and when I go to work, Luke comes with me and just hangs out in the waiting room. As long as he’s around big groups of people, he seems to be okay, but he’s exhausted, M.J., and spending all day in the waiting room of a hospital is no life for a twenty-one-year-old man. My brother hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks and he’s had to drop out of school. This is torture for him, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know how to protect him and get this thing away from him. I don’t even know what this thing is, and I feel like we’re all going a little crazy over it.”

  “I understand,” I told her.

  She surprised me by reaching out to cover my hand with hers. “I know this is incredibly awkward for you,” she said, motioning with her eyes toward her fiancé. “But Steven has told me so much about how amazing you are, and how you, Heath, and Gilley handle stuff like this all the time. . . . Do you think you could find it in your heart to help us?”

  Her sincerity and honesty touched me. I had a feeling that as hard as it had been for me to come here and meet her this evening, it might’ve been even harder for her—especially under these circumstances. I squeezed her hand and said, “Of course, Courtney. Of course we can.”

  • • •

  Later, when Heath, Gilley, and I were back at my condo, we tried to decide the best course of action. “I say you two drive several dozen magnetic stakes into the walls of Courtney’s house and call it a day,” Gil said.

  I rolled my eyes. “That might help in the short term, but it’s not a long-term solution, buddy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Luke is the one being haunted, not Courtney’s home. Whatever this thing is, it’s decided to make Luke’s life a living hell. Which means, every single time he steps outside, he’s vulnerable.”

  “He could wear one of our vests,” Heath suggested, referring to one of the magnet-loaded bubble vests that we wear on some of our more dangerous ghostbusts. Spooks can’t tolerate big shifts in the electromagnetic frequency of the atmosphere they inhabit. When you bring a bunch of magnets into a space they’re haunting, it’s like setting off a houseful of fire alarms—it’s crazy uncomfortable for them and they’ll go anywhere else to escape it.

  I considered Heath’s suggestion to have Luke wear a vest for a moment before replying, “I don’t know how practical that’d be with summer coming on. I mean, you know how hot those things can be. Not to mention how much attention a guy wearing a bubble vest in the middle of summer would attract.”

  “Good point,” Heath said, and we all went back to trying to come up with an idea that might work. Finally, when nothing seemed to be coming to us, I said, “I think where we need to start is by identifying who or what this shadow is and what he wants with Courtney’s brother.”

  Heath nodded. “We need to interview Luke.”

  I sighed heavily. That troubled me. In fact, in spite of what I’d told Courtney, this case was making me extremely nervous. “I’m worried,” I confessed. “This spook attaches itself to people—not objects. If we interview Luke and showcase our psychic abilities, what’s to stop this shadow from attaching itself to one of us?”

  “Isn’t that a risk we’ll have to take?” Heath replied.

  I fidgeted in my chair. “I think we should be cautious, honey.” Heath eyed me curiously and I added, “It’s just that we’ve been sort of forced into too many dangerous encounters in the past year, and I’d like to think that we’ve learned something about assessing the danger fully before taking any unnecessary risks.”

  “What’re you thinking, then?” Heath asked me.

  “I’m thinking that maybe we should start with a conversation with Luke in a nice crowded place.”

  “He could still bring the spook with him,” Gilley said.

  “True,” I agreed. “But it’s unlikely, given what Courtney’s already told us about its behavior.”

  “I think you two should also wear vests,” Gil said. Heath eyed him sideways and Gil added, “I’m serious, Heath. M.J.’s right, you two need to be careful with this one, because if it follows you home, we know who it’s going to fall in love with.” For emphasis Gil pointed to his chest.

  Heath and I laughed. “Yeah, yeah, buddy,” Heath said. “Okay, for your sake we’ll wear the vests.”

  • • •

  I called Courtney from my office the next morning and reached her voice mail. I left her a message to call me back; then I went for a run without Heath, who was still back at my place sleeping. Instead of taking the trail, I meandered through the neighborhoods for a while, then made my way over to a small lake in the adjoining town of Medford, which had a nice running path along the water. I noticed a news van over by the lake, and being the curious type, I edged closer. Unfortunately, I might’ve gotten a little too close, because the female reporter helping to set up the camera called me over. Reluctantly I came to a stop in front of her, very self-conscious of the sweat on my brow and the cadence of my breathing. “Hello, there!” the reporter said with forced enthusiasm as she stuck out her hand. “I’m Kendra Knight from Boston Seven News. Would you like to be on television?”

  I smiled. I’d had more than my share of cameras shoved in my face to last a good long time. “No, thanks,” I said, preparing to set off again. Kendra quickly shot in front of me and her smile got bigger and her eyes wider. She seemed a bit desperate. “Please?” she said. “There’s nobody around and I really need to send my producer an interview.”

  “What’s it about?” I asked, thinking she might want to do an interview about jogging and health.

  Kendra said, “Sorry. What’s your name?”

  I didn’t like the fact that she was being so pushy, but I’d been raised in the South, where manners count. “M.J.,” I said, and she scribbled that into her notepad. “M. J. Holliday.”

  Kendra stopped scribbling, and when she stopped scribbling, her grin seemed genuine. “Thanks, M.J. I’d really like to hear your opinion about the trial.”

  I blinked. “Trial?”

  She eyed me curiously, like she couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard about it. “Yes, the trial of Daniel Foster.” I blinked again, and Kendra explained (like I was slow in the head), “The man on trial for the murder of Bethany Sullivan. It’s been all over the news for the past four weeks.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. I’ve been out of the country. I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  Kendra’s expression went back to desperate. “Oh,” she said, but then shook her head like she didn’t care. “That’s okay. I can give you a quick overview and you can just give me your opinion.”

  I sighed. I really wanted to get back to my run, but Kendra wasn’t easily put off. “Fine,” I said. “What’s the case?”

  Kendra grabb
ed her microphone and began to speak to me so rapidly that I had a hard time making out everything that she said. “Bethany Sullivan was a resident of Medford who, last September, while out jogging, was brutally murdered by a man wielding a knife. The police arrested her ex-boyfriend Daniel Foster, found walking erratically a half mile away from the crime scene, covered in the victim’s blood. He claimed that he was sleepwalking at the time and has no memory of the actual murder. His trial wrapped up yesterday, and the jury is now deliberating.”

  I looked around. The courthouse was miles away from the lake, and I wondered why she’d chosen this spot and, quite frankly, someone like me to ask about what I thought of the trial. “I guess I could express an opinion,” I said. “But wouldn’t you have more luck finding someone who’d heard of the case closer to the courthouse?”

  Kendra nodded. “Coming here was my producer’s idea,” she said.

  “Why would he send you here?”

  Kendra pointed to the ground next to us. “This is where Kendra was murdered. She was out running just like you when Daniel allegedly jumped out and stabbed her before slitting her throat.”

  I felt goose pimples line my arms and the hair on the back of my neck stood up on end. And then I had the very strong sense that a spook was present.

  Chapter 3

  From the corner of my eye I saw a glimmer of movement and turned my head slightly. About fifteen yards away a small, round, wavy vortex showed up in midair. It looked a little like the shimmering air that comes off pavement on very hot days, but it was round and suspended about five feet off the ground. “She wasn’t murdered here,” I said, drawn to the energy like a bee to a flower.

  “Yes, she . . . hey! Wait! Can I get your comment about the trial?”

  But my focus was on the vortex, and I’d already opened up my sixth sense to the hovering energy. I could feel the young woman, sense her pain, and the urgency of her situation. Behind me, I could hear Kendra’s footfalls following me. I stopped when I’d reached the orb. “She was murdered here,” I said aloud, not caring if Kendra accepted that or not. “On this very spot.”

  “You look weird,” Kendra said, eyeing me closely. “What’s happening?”

  I ignored her and focused on Bethany. Hi, Bethany, I said in my mind. I’m here to help you.

  Why? I heard her cry in response. Whywhywhywhywhy?!!!

  I closed my eyes and started to talk to her in the hopes that I might set her spirit at ease. I’m so sorry that happened to you, I began. And I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t really understand what’s happened, but I’m willing to tell you if you want.

  I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t what happened next. Bethany sort of entered my energy, and she filled my senses with her last moments. They unfolded like an awful nightmare, and what I didn’t fully realize was that I was narrating the events as they happened in my mind. “She was running because she wanted to lose weight for her best friend’s wedding. She worked crazy hours at the law firm, and she didn’t get out that day until late. She was hungry and tired, but she figured if she could just get in a few miles, she could have a decent dinner for once, and a glass of wine. She had a special bottle of Zinfandel chilling in an ice bucket at home. She couldn’t wait to curl up with her cat, Sprinkles, and relax. It was a little past eight, and it made her nervous to run in the dark, but again, she thought it was just a few miles and she was so close to home.”

  I turned and stared across the grassy knolls; then I lifted my hand and pointed. “She lived over there. She felt safe if she was within sight of her condo.”

  Behind me I heard Kendra say something like, “I have no idea, but keep rolling!” It didn’t register because my mind was still filled with Bethany.

  “She had just one more loop left when she heard footsteps run up behind her. They came so fast they scared her and she jumped, shrieking a little.” I turned again and stared behind me. “She looked over her shoulder, but there was no one there. No one. And she couldn’t explain it, because she’d heard the footsteps, and then, just when she was facing forward again, Dan came out of nowhere—he appeared like a ghost right in front her. He was just standing there. For just a split second she was almost relieved to see him, only because his was a familiar face, but then in the next instant she saw his eyes. She saw something terrible in them. . . . She saw murder in them, and she knew her worst fears were coming true. And then she saw the knife in his hand. She tried to pivot away from him. . . . Her ankle turned. She started to fall and then something that felt hot and searing like lightning struck her right in the back and with it the most awful pain she’d ever felt. She screamed and then more lightning struck her on the right side.”

  I clutched my ribs and bent forward. “And then, there was one more slice of lightning. Right across her neck. It was the worst of all. After that, the pain ended abruptly. It was like someone flipped a switch and the pain vanished. But ever since then, she’s been trying to go home, to call the police, but she can’t seem to get there. She can see it, her condo, from here, but she can’t make it home. It’s like her feet are made of lead, and they won’t work right. And other people just pass her even though she’s been asking everyone to stop and help her.”

  I stood up straight again and squeezed my eyes shut, forcefully pushing Bethany’s energy away from me so that I could think for myself again. Bethany, I said sternly in my mind. You have to listen to me. Dan hurt you. He hurt you in a way that your body will never recover from. I know you want to get back to your condo, but the reason you can’t go there is because you need to be somewhere else. Do you understand?

  Why? she asked me desperately again.

  I answered her truthfully. Honey, I don’t know. But I think if you focus on what I’m telling you, that question might eventually get answered.

  For a few long seconds Bethany said nothing more to me. She simply hovered close by as if wavering on whether to listen to me or try again to go to her condo. At last I decided to help her make up her mind. “You need to move on to the other side, Bethany. There’s nothing for you here. You need to look up, and search for the light, and then you need to let it take you.”

  Bethany reacted by attempting to enter my energy again, and I knew she was scared and simply wanted to feel what it was like to be alive again, but I resisted her with everything that I had. I couldn’t allow her to be tempted into staying in the state she was in. “Honey, it’ll be okay,” I whispered. “I promise you, it’ll be okay.”

  Finally, as if she’d exhausted herself, she stopped trying to fight me, and she sort of gave in to my suggestion. I had a vision of her lifting her chin slightly, and I realized what a beautiful girl she’d been, with ash-blond hair, light brown eyes, and a beautiful face fit for the cover of a magazine. That face lit up as the light above her approached, and I saw her gasp and her eyes open wide and in the very next instant there was a slight zap in the ether, Bethany disappeared, and behind me I heard, “What the hell?”

  “Mike?” Kendra asked. “What’s wrong?”

  I turned and saw that Kendra was holding up the microphone toward me and her cameraman was eyeing his camera with alarm. “There was a power surge and then the camera died,” he said, turning the camera over in his hands. “And the battery’s dead even though I just got through charging it.”

  I realized then that they’d caught my whole encounter with Bethany on film, and feeling a bit overexposed, I began to edge away from them. Kendra was quick to step forward, and after tucking her microphone under her arm, she said, “What the heck was that?”

  I sighed. I was furiously trying to recall what I might have said aloud in front of her, but the truth was that I’d gone into a little bit of a trance and the memory of what I’d actually said was fuzzy. “I gotta go,” I told her.

  “Wait!”

  But I suddenly wanted no part of her interview and turne
d away to start running again. I heard her call my name several times and beg me to come back, but that only made me run faster. The last thing I wanted was to become some sort of spectacle on the nightly news.

  I didn’t stop running until I was home again, and as I came through the door, I heard the water running in the shower.

  I smiled and felt the tension in my shoulders ease. Slipping out of my sweaty clothes, I headed into the bathroom and slid into the shower. Heath had his head under the spray and I moved in to wrap my arms around him from behind. He jumped a little but then put his hands on mine. “Well, hey, there,” he purred.

  “Hey, sexy,” I whispered. “Feel like getting soapy?”

  “Sure. But we should be quick because my girlfriend’s going to be home any minute.”

  I laughed and swatted his butt. His oh so amazing derriere. Heath turned, exposing a few other oh so amazing things, and there wasn’t much room for conversation after that. We stepped out of the shower long after the hot water had turned lukewarm and got dressed. Okay, so maybe we went for round two in the bedroom first, but eventually we managed to get ourselves together. “Wanna grab lunch?” I asked as I was dabbing on some mascara.

  Heath looked at his phone. “Sorry, Em,” he said. “I have an appointment—” He stopped speaking abruptly, like he seemed to catch himself, and I realized why he’d gone suddenly mute.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Gilley told me you were doing readings again.”

  Heath scowled. “That guy can’t keep anything to himself.”

  I laughed. “I love that it’s taken you this long to figure that out.”

  My sweetie stepped forward to wrap me in his arms and nuzzle my neck. “You’re not mad, are you?”