White Spirit

by Amy Ravenel

  Tabitha perched on the edge of the desk. “She did?”

  “Lauren McKenna.”

  Aaron and Tabitha exchanged a look.

  “I’ve heard the name. Didn’t think about that McKenna being connected to our McKenna,” Tabitha said.

  McKenna waved her hand. “Anyway, after she was attacked, she learned how to make her shield stronger.” She chuckled. “No wonder nothing ever seemed to get to her.” She stirred her drink with the straw. “Mr. Johnson apparently wrote down her instructions. Tristan and I tried to follow them and worked on strengthening our own shields.”

  Aaron propped his feet on the desk. He closed his eyes, savoring the hot liquid. “Any luck?”

  “Not yet. My head was pounding by the time we had to go home, and Tristan was so tired. It’s a miracle we made it back.” She still felt some of the effects from working on her shield. The caffeine helped steady her. “How about here? Find anything we can use?”

  Drew cleared his throat. “Well, we did get some interesting footage. I’ve got it cued up in the back if you’d like to see it.” He jammed his free hand into his pocket. “I still need to clean it up and study it, but a fresh pair of eyes will be nice.”

  McKenna nodded. Setting her coffee on her desk, she followed him into the cramped equipment room. Filled to the brim with hard drives, cameras, monitors, and other ghost hunting gadgets, two people barely fit into the small space. Two chairs and two small desks were located along the back wall. Drew led her to one. His fingers flew over the keys, and the voice-recording program appeared on the screen.

  “Our first piece of evidence,” he proclaimed. He clicked one of the keys.

  McKenna’s voice cut through the quiet, asking if the ghost was there.

  “He has to pay,” was the answer.

  She gasped. “You got it! That’s the sentence I heard.”

  “Yeah, she was there. Didn’t bother answering any other questions, though.”

  The door creaked behind them. “Show her the video.” Aaron pushed his way in with Tabitha right behind him.

  Drew cued up the video. “You ready?”

  “Just play it, Keane,” Aaron grumbled.

  The black and white image of an empty bedroom appeared. It took McKenna a moment to realize it was Tristan’s.

  Drew faced her. “Okay, this happened before we walked into the apartment.” He clicked the mouse.

  The room was quiet and still with faint white noise in the background. Then the image jumped and rippled. To the left of the monitor, a white figure appeared. She was faint and fuzzy, but McKenna made out the outline of her dress and her long hair. Her heart jumped into her throat as she took an involuntary step back. The ghostly woman turned in a circle before peering at the camera. The image cut out.

  “Did we get her attack?” McKenna’s voice was high and tight.

  “No.” She felt Drew’s regret. “It’s like she took out all the cameras. Probably pulled the energy from them, too.”

  “But the regular energy wasn’t enough.” McKenna steadied herself against one of the equipment shelves behind her. She covered her chest, remembering the ice as The White Lady plunged her hand inside. She swallowed. “Rewind it one more time. I want to make sure I saw what I think I saw.”

  “Are you okay?” Tabitha touched her arm.

  McKenna pushed away from the shelf. “I’m fine.”

  “No one blames if you want to take some more time after what happened.”

  She set her jaw. “I’m fine. I’m not going to let her get to me.” She pulled out the extra chair and sat down.

  Aaron and Tabitha leaned over Drew’s shoulders as he scrolled the video back frame by frame. Drew clicked play, and the images replayed on the screen.

  This time, McKenna shoved her emotions to the side and focused on the details. “Stop.” She narrowed her eyes, taking in the fuzzy image.

  Aaron cleared his throat. “Can we clean this up enough to identify her?”

  “I’m going to try, but her features aren’t real defined up close.” Drew readjusted his hat. He shook his head. “I can’t believe this small thing killed Zack, a man twice her size.”

  “All that’s left of her is energy,” Tabitha said. “With the extra power she pulls from around her, and the boost she got from Tristan and McKenna, she can affect the physical world.”

  “That plus her anger makes her stronger.” McKenna hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “She’d probably kill every year if she had a permanent psychic to feed off.”

  “Then why didn’t she keep Jason around?” Drew asked. “No offense.”

  “He fit one of her types.” A sense of dread filled her. “We need to pull Tristan out of there and make sure I’m not there to take his place.”

  Drew pulled up another program, opening the video images into it. “He can always crash at my place. Now, all of you go away. I need some room to work here.”

  Tristan stood in front of the Restless Spirits office. Part of him wanted to know if there was a connection between the ghost, Lily, and the visions in his office. He glanced at the picture he had printed one more time. Her face definitely matched the girl in his visions, and the eyes matched the ghost. The only way to find out lay through the office door.

  When he got the message McKenna had left describing the footage the team had recorded, he couldn’t believe it. Proof that they all weren’t crazy and that The White Lady did indeed exist. It was one thing to see her himself, but it was another to have video evidence. Then she had told him Drew was cleaning up the image, hopefully bringing out The White Lady’s features. The ghost was either so transparent or so bright it was hard to focus on her face. Her eyes were the only features that stood out.

  With that promise lingering in his mind, he decided to drop by the office after work instead of calling McKenna back. If this could be over in the next few days, Tristan would have his life back. And possibly a chance to start a relationship with the gorgeous empath.

  He pushed open the glass door, the bell ringing in his ears. The front desk was empty. Not a soul greeted him. He let the door close behind him as he walked farther into the room.

  “Hello?” he called. No answer. “Hello!” he raised his voice.

  The door on the left of the back wall swung open. McKenna stuck her head out of the open doorway and smiled when she saw him. It brightened his day. She walked all the way out, the door clicking closed.

  “Tristan, what are you doing here?”

  "You said you caught her on tape." He handed her the picture. “I think I might know who she is.”

  Her blue eyes sparkled. "This is one of the missing girls, isn’t it?” She rushed to her desk to bring up the matching file. “Lily Comer. How do you know it’s her?”

  “I don’t. Not really. But she keeps turning up in my visions.”

  “Visions? As in plural?” She whirled around. She reached for his hand, and in that moment, Tristan welcomed the warm connection. Her expression turned to concern. "You said you can’t control it. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah." He tapped his temple. “Scenes tend to sneak in every once in a while. I never know what they’ll be, and I can’t call them up on command.” He indicated the picture. “She’s been in all the ones I’ve had in my office, and I think I saw her in one of the flashes in the apartment. The girl in the woods.”

  "What do you see in your office?"

  He told her about each vision of the girl and the mystery man. “I always see it from his point of view so I never see his face. I think he’s a professor, and he had an affair with her, a student.” He told her how he had originally thought they were random, but they kept pushing through his walls. “Today, I saw her face, every feature. I’m almost positive it’s the same girl, and her features resemble The White Lady’s.”

  McKenna chewed on her bottom lip, processing the information. “I was helping Drew clean up the image. He may have something to show us.”

  She turned on her heel, h
eading for the back, and indicated Tristan should follow her. Tristan followed her into a cramped room stacked with electronic equipment. It was Drew’s version of paradise. He spotted his friend sitting in front of one of the computers, playing with an image on the screen.

  “How’s it coming?” McKenna asked as she settled into the empty chair beside him.

  Drew moved his headphones, a tinny version of “Paranoid” playing through the speakers. He glanced up. “Hey, man. Come to see the ghost in digital format?”

  “Something like that.” Tristan came around the other side of Drew, resting a hand on the edge of the table.

  “Well, I think this is the best I could do. Any larger and she starts pixelating.” Drew hit a button and the cleaned footage began to play.

  Tristan regarded the image on the screen. The White Lady circled and eyed the camera. His eyes widened as he studied the curve of her jawline and the shape of her eyes. It was the best look he had gotten of her since the first day she appeared. “Still have the picture?” he asked McKenna.

  She nodded and held it up to the screen.

  Tristan felt like someone had knocked the breath out of him. “That’s her. That’s the girl I’ve been seeing. That’s Lily.”

  “You’re sure?” Drew’s voice rose an octave with excitement.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Tristan, are you willing to go back to your office with me? Maybe try to see something?” McKenna beamed.

  Tristan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. You saw what happened last time.”

  She held up her hand. “I won’t push you. But maybe I can pick up emotions from your coworkers or maybe a general impression of the place. If the energy is strong enough to break through your barriers, there might be some residual emotional energy for me to read.”

  She seemed so hopeful that he could say no. Tristan nodded. “All right.”

  Twenty minutes later, he found himself back at the history building. The halls were quiet since most people had already gone home for the day. A few professors still lingered, preparing for their night classes. Most of the offices were empty.

  “It’s a little creepy when no one’s here,” McKenna muttered.

  Tristan laced his fingers through hers as they climbed the stairs. When he turned the curve at the landing, he smiled back at her. At that moment, he slammed into someone. A briefcase dropped and papers went flying. Tristan let go of McKenna’s hand.

  “Watch where you’re going,” a man said tersely.

  “I’m sorry.” Tristan held out his hand to steady the other person and found himself looking into the face of Dr. Jonas Knight.

  Knight glared. “Mr. Johnson.” Once he was on his feet, he dusted his dark pants and groaned when he saw the mess around him. “I suppose I’ll have to spend another hour putting them back in order.”

  “I’m really sorry, sir. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  Knight waved at him as he corrected the glasses on the bridge of his beak-like nose. “I’m not surprised.” His gaze flickered to McKenna.

  “Why don’t you let us help you?” She crouched down and started collecting papers.

  Tristan and Dr. Knight joined her on the floor.

  “Where were you going in such a hurry, Mr. Johnson?” Knight stuffed a group of papers into his briefcase.

  “I left something in my office.” Tristan collected the last of the papers, placing them into the briefcase.

  Knight glanced from Tristan to McKenna and back again, his gray eyes taking in the scene. “I see the tradition continues,” he sighed.

  Tristan helped him to his feet once again. “The tradition? What tradition?”

  “Young professors and their office romances. I’ve seen it happen during the many years I’ve been here.” He checked his pockets, making sure he had everything with him.

  Tristan shook his head. “No, sir, we’re not…”

  “I’m not stupid, Mr. Johnson. I also don’t care. Just make sure no one catches you.” He started for the stairs.

  “Wait, sir. Who else have you caught?” Tristan paused and exchanged a glance with McKenna. “Doing this?”

  Knight straightened, his shoulders back and his chest puffed out. His eye level came to Tristan’s chin. “I do not tell on people. When someone entrusts me with a secret, I keep it. Now, good evening, Mr. Johnson.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed down the stairs.

  “He knows something,” McKenna said. “He was calm until you asked him about other affairs. And then he became guilty and sad.”

  Tristan watched the professor disappear down the stairs. “I wonder what he could be guilty about. He never talks to anybody.”

  “I guess he wants to keep his secrets.” She watched him make the turn and disappear down the last flight of stairs.

  The office was dark and silent when Tristan opened the door. Jaime had already gone home for the night, so he and McKenna were alone. He flicked on the light.

  “Here we are, center of everything. Do I need to walk outside?”

  McKenna walked into the middle of the room. She held out her hands as if she were feeling her way around. “No. I’ve been around you long enough that I can filter out your emotions.”

  His lips quirked. “Know how I feel, do you?”

  “Yes, and you need to stop feeling that particular emotion right now. I’m working here.” She stood still and closed her eyes.

  Tristan sat on the corner of his desk. “Need me to do anything?”

  “Just stay there and be quiet.”

  He nodded but didn’t say another word. Watching her work, he noticed how pretty she was when the expression on her face was serious. She wrinkled her brow in concentration, and Tristan couldn’t help but smile.

  He didn’t know what to make of this strange woman. She understood him and seemed to believe in him. He had never really been with anyone who had believed in him that much before. Actually, he had never been completely honest with anyone he had ever dated before. It took all of his effort to keep the psychic part of himself hidden. But with McKenna, honesty came easily. He wasn’t afraid to show all of himself. That realization was terrifying.

  She didn’t say a word as she turned a slow circle, her eyes still closed. He wondered how she felt about him. If he tried to see the past again, would she be there to ground him? He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but he felt a stronger connection to her since she had brought him back from the brink of insanity.

  Insanity. Was The White Lady insane? What had happened to that young, smiling college girl? How had she gone from a sweet girl who believed in love to a cold-blooded killer? What would drive a spirit to that kind of madness? Who was the man she was seeing? What happened to him?

  Lost in thought, Tristan hardly noticed the room change around him. Lily’s voice echoed in his ears.

  “Tell me you love me.” He turned and saw her standing next to him. Her light green eyes bore into his as she fiddled with the yellow bow in her hair. She unclipped it, her hair falling to her shoulder. His pulse jumped at the beauty of it. Pressing it into his hand, she smiled. “Even if you can’t say it out loud, you can keep this. That way, I’ll know you have a piece of me.”

  The scene changed before him. The bright happiness changed to the gray of melancholy. She was missing, gone. No one could tell him what happened to her. He held the yellow bow tight in his grip, grief overwhelming him. He only wanted to keep her safe. The breakup wasn’t forever, only until she graduated. One more year, and she would be his. He wanted to toss the bow off one of the mountaintops so no one would ever find it again, but he couldn’t let go of it. It was a piece of her. He opened the top drawer of the desk and unlocked a secret compartment. He placed the bow inside and locked it.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Tristan?” McKenna’s face swam into view, but it was like he saw her through a curtain of water. She wiped his cheek with her thumb. He blinked. His cheek was wet. “Tristan
, what happened? You hit me with a tidal wave of grief. What’s wrong?”

  He blinked again and wiped his eyes. “I loved her.”

  “Who did you love?”

  Tristan shook his head. “No, that’s not right.” He slid off the desk. Seeing the familiar surroundings of the room brought him back to himself. He moved away from McKenna. “I’m sorry. I think I saw something.”

  “You did more than see something. You felt it.” She leaned against the desk. “I wasn’t picking up anything but you, and then all of a sudden, your feelings changed. Love, and then, the grief. Tell me what you saw.”

  Tristan swallowed. “I saw her again, Lily. She stood right beside me.” He indicated the spot to his right. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady his nerves. The grief he experienced was fading like a dream. “She handed me a yellow hair clip, one she wore all the time. And then the scene changed.”

  “That was the moment you were sad.”

  “Not me, but the guy I was seeing this past event through. I…he put the clip in the top desk drawer.” Tristan touched his desk. “I think it’s in here.”

  “Tristan, that was years ago. Don’t you think he would’ve taken it with him when he left this office?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Tristan pulled open the top drawer. At the bottom was the outline of a small door with a lock on it. He yanked it out, placed it on the desk. After he removed all of the stuff from inside, he shook it. Something rattled in the bottom.

  McKenna’s mouth formed an O shape. She stepped closer to the desk. “Do you have the key?”

  Tristan pulled out more drawers. File folders, pens, sticky notes, but not one of them had a key. “No.” He blew out a breath. A connection to her was so close, yet so far away.

  McKenna bent over it, her hair brushing the wood. “Know how to pick a lock?”

  “No clue.”

  She dropped into his chair, booted up his computer. “Well, let’s do a little research.” She googled the steps to picking a lock with a paper clip. She grabbed two, giving one to Tristan. “Start shaping this like the picture.”

  “Who knew picking a lock would be an important skill when battling killer ghosts.” Tristan grunted as he pulled his paper clip straight.