“Run, Sierra!” We sprinted out of the bathroom, and I waved my flashlight at her. I was sure she’d be covered in glass, but there wasn’t a splinter on her. “Check me, please.”
She waved the flashlight all over me. “Nothing.”
“Why did you do that, Sierra? You told me we didn’t want to provoke her, and then you do it yourself? We already had her talking. Now she wants to break mirrors over our heads.” I couldn’t hide my frustration with her.
“I think I know what I’m doing, rookie. But if you want to be the star—be my guest!” With that she left me standing alone in the dark hallway.
I called after her disappearing figure. “Sierra? Where the heck are you going?” She’d never called me rookie before; only Sara had done that. And Sierra left me by myself, which was a no-no for GCP investigations.
“Sierra!” I called again, but she didn’t even break her stride as she disappeared down the dark hall. Midas broke in on the radio, and I must have jumped a foot off the ground. “What’s going on?”
“Sierra left me. The mirror fell in the bathroom, but we are okay. Did you hear the crash?”
He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, he spoke in a hurry. “Stay there. Don’t move, Cassidy.”
“Why? Can’t I come to you? Or do you think I should go after Sierra.”
“Stay there. I’m on the way.”
Fear crept up my spine now. Something was happening, something I didn’t know about, something I couldn’t see and probably wouldn’t want to see. Or maybe it was my imagination. I had a good one.
“Why?” I asked one last time.
“Because you aren’t alone.”
Chapter Thirteen—Midas
“Helen, don’t leave this spot,” I said as I grabbed the two-way radio and handed another to her. “Call me if you see anything.”
“Besides that?” Helen waved at the image of the extraordinarily tall shadow man looming a few feet away from Cassidy.
“Yes, besides that. Keep your eyes on it! Hit record!”
She took the radio and pulled the chair closer to the bank of cameras. “Be careful!” she called after me. That was hilarious. How was I going to do that?
Things were off tonight, I thought as I sprinted toward the front bathrooms. Last I heard, Josh and Jack weren’t getting any paranormal action in the auditorium. I’d sent them to the stage office to see if they could uncover anything in there. I considered calling them now, but there was enough drama unfolding in the Crescent tonight.
At first I thought it was just a trick of the lighting, but when Helen saw it too I knew it was something more. Now I ran down the hall, through the lobby and down the side corridor that led to the bathrooms. I flashed my camera around, and I swore for a split second I saw movement, like someone darted in front of me. But where would he or she go? Through the wall? There were no doors here. I had the feeling that something or someone was toying with us, and I didn’t like it. Cassidy shielded her eyes from the beam of my flashlight.
“Hey, Cassidy. It’s me.”
“Thank God. You said someone was in here with me?”
“A shadow figure. We could see him clearly right there, but it looks like it’s gone now.” I waved the flashlight beam around but didn’t see whatever had been there. I tapped on the walkie-talkie. “Helen? Do you see it?”
“Negative. It vanished as soon as you stepped into the hallway. Over.”
Just to humor her I added, “Thanks, over.” Cassidy’s wide eyes were on me, and I resisted the urge to take her hand. “Where did Sierra go?”
“Um, you didn’t see her? She went out that way. You should have run right into her. I don’t know what’s going on with her, Midas, but she’s not herself. I wasn’t trying to take over the investigation. You heard me, right? I think Estella is affecting her in some way. They look so much alike; do you think it’s possible that they could be related?”
“No. I don’t. They do favor one another, but so do a lot of people. Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t handle stress well, and she’s got a lot of it in her life right now.”
“Base to Midas. Can you hear me? Over.” Helen’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Helen, I hear you. Over.” I reached for Cassidy’s hand. It felt warm and comforting. But I was supposed to be comforting her, right? I glanced around the room with squinted eyes.
“Something is going on in the bathroom the girls just left, Midas. I think the shadow moved into that room.”
“We will take a look.”
“Be careful. There has to be glass everywhere,” Cassidy said, waving her K2 meter.
“You sure you want to go back in?”
A tense smile stretched across her face. She squeezed my hand and released it. “It’s what we do, right?”
“Yeah, it’s what we do.”
My heart pumping, I pushed opened the bathroom door and turned off my flashlight. Again the figure darted away from me. “You don’t have to run. We’re not here to harm you.”
I heard Cassidy gasp behind me. “What the heck? That mirror fell to the ground. I heard it! I swear! Now it doesn’t look like it’s even cracked. How can that be?”
“I don’t know,” I had to admit. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d experienced paranormal weirdness in an investigation, but now wasn’t the time to reminisce.
“I can’t believe it. If I didn’t see it myself I wouldn’t believe it at all,” she said. We stood in front of the mirror staring at our reflections.
“Let’s check the other bathroom. Maybe you heard the mirror in the men’s room and it sounded like it fell in here. That big boom could have shaken it off the wall.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “That would make sense.” We abandoned the ladies’ room and found the men’s room mirror just as intact. “Huh. Okay…”
“Maybe what we’re hearing is residual. When Martin assaulted Estella, it was the mirror that crashed on her after he hit her. He hit her with such force that the glass cut her face to pieces. I saw it. I swear! It was a freak thing, really. I doubt he wanted to hurt her like that, but it happened. Maybe Martin was threatening us.”
Before I could answer her, Helen’s excited voice broke in over the radio. “Hello? Midas? There’s something going on in the auditorium. Sierra’s on the stage! Over!”
“Is she alone?” And then we heard the plaintive sound of a violin. “Sierra!”
As Cassidy and I hurried toward the auditorium, my heart thumped mercilessly in my chest. And now the doors were closed. I pushed on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. I swore I heard the sounds of faint applause from the other side.
“Dear Lord,” Cassidy said, “do you hear that? Let’s try the other doors. Over here!”
We pushed on them too but couldn’t get them to move. Cassidy banged on the door and yelled for Sierra. Nobody came, and soon the applause died down. To my surprise, the doors opened right away. Standing on the stage was Sierra—but she wasn’t alone. A man stood behind her. A shadow man.
“Sierra!” I shouted as she walked out to the edge of the stage. She had no equipment in her hands and wore a stunned, mesmerized expression. Little Sister’s face didn’t even flinch when I cast the light directly in her eyes. Her lips were moving silently.
“Sierra? What is it?” I was at the edge of the stage now. I could hear her plainly, and the sound made my blood turn cold.
“My turn,” she screamed. “It’s my turn!”
“Sierra!” I scrambled up on the stage. Her eyes were trained on something I couldn’t see, and she didn’t seem to see me. She looked like she was in some sort of trance. She stood at the edge of the stage, her arms at her sides, lifted slightly, as if she were a puppet.
The shadowy figure sank into the floor as I reached for Little Sister’s arm. “Can you tell me what you’re doing?”
“I’m…it’s my turn.”
“Sierra, honey, it’s not your turn. It’s time to come down from the
stage. Come on now, sweetheart. Come with me. We’ll get you some water. Let you sit down for a bit.” I tried to lead her to the edge of the stage, but she snatched her arm away from me.
“You don’t understand. They’ve all come to see me! It’s my turn!”
Cassidy waved her flashlight around. She heard something, and quite frankly so did I, but my main concern right now was Sierra and her mental well-being. This haunting, or whatever it was, affected her in ways I didn’t understand.
“Sierra, you’re being influenced. It’s okay to come down. You don’t have to stay up here. Come with me, Little Sister. Please?”
Tears began to slide down her face. “I don’t think I can. She wants me to stay here. She’s so… It’s Estella, Midas. She wants to sing, she wants to perform. It is Estella; I can feel her!” She shook her head, crossed her arms and rubbed them as if she were cold. I felt the cold too. I couldn’t figure out why she appeared to be having a breakdown of some sort, but as always I was determined to focus on the science.
“Major cold spot up here, Cassidy. Come up and do a sweep of the area around Sierra. Little Sister, step over here.” I offered my hand again, hoping to appeal to her usual sense of responsibility.
“No! I don’t want her up here. This is my moment!” Her hands were at her side, fingers splayed like she was a child ready to explode in a fit. This was so unlike Sierra.
“Sierra! What are you doing?” Josh said as he and Jack ran toward us. “Helen said you were in trouble.” He was clearly aggravated that she wasn’t lying on the floor bleeding.
“Joshua?” Sierra sounded like she just woke up from a dream. “Is that you?”
“Of course it is. What are you doing?”
She wiped at her face and stared at her hands. “Was I crying? What’s going on?”
“All right, let’s go, Little Sister. You’re done for the night. Josh, take her out of the building. No arguing. You guys go to the van or head back to HQ. Jack, you stay with us. Let’s wrap this up.”
Sierra didn’t argue. She glanced around nervously like she was confused or disoriented, but she didn’t say a word. We watched as she and Josh left the auditorium.
“Jack, I want us to go up there.” I shone the light in the balcony. “Cassidy, you feeling adventurous?”
“Yeah,” she said with a nervous laugh. “But I warn you, I’m not much of a singer. I’m a different kind of artist.”
Jack flashed a big white smile and handed her his digital recorder. “Well, can you dance? Here’s a catchy tune.” Cassidy laughed in response.
“Cue up that music and play it. Come on, Jack. Let’s gather as much evidence as we can for our client. He’s why we’re here.” We walked up the ramp and then the stairs. Even though we were in near total darkness, the stairs leading up were even inkier. I blinked against it as my feet searched for the steps. Jack waved his tiny LED flashlight while I called Helen.
“Helen? Has Sierra left the building?”
“Yes, she’s gone. Over.”
We took a seat in the balcony and waited for Cassidy to play the recording of Fortunato’s Spring. The violin sounded extremely loud for such a small device. I saw Cassidy pause as her hand dropped.
Something was wrong. Seriously.
Cassidy’s petite frame shrank as she looked over her shoulder. Next thing I knew, she was leaping off the stage and running up the aisle. “Cassidy?” I yelled at her. Jack and I didn’t waste any time in taking off behind her.
Chapter Fourteen—Cassidy
I couldn’t help myself. My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and there was no way I was fighting whoever or whatever was standing behind me on that stage. For a split second, I reminded myself I was a paranormal investigator, but it didn’t matter. I could feel his breath on my neck; it was steady, like a living person’s, but nobody was there. Or somebody was, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to look.
Midas and Jack raced behind me. “Cassidy, wait!” I heard Midas yell at me, but I didn’t stop running until I reached the auditorium doors. “Hey, what happened? One second you were playing music, and the next you were gone. Did you feel threatened?”
“No. You have it wrong. I didn’t play any music. I didn’t get a chance to.”
Jack and Helen said, “What?” at the same time.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I didn’t get a chance to press play. And then something was breathing on my neck.” I rubbed my neck as a hard shudder trembled down my shoulders. “It was the creepiest thing I’ve ever felt. Look, I know I screwed up, but I couldn’t help but run away. I had to. I don’t know what Sierra was feeling up there, but if it was what I was feeling—yuck! I hope she’s okay.”
“Sierra is a professional. She’ll be fine, but I think we need to wrap it up. Too much is happening too fast. We’ve got more than enough footage from these cameras, and we’re bound to have captured some of the phenomena. You guys ready?”
“Yes, more than ready,” I said a bit too quickly. I felt like such a coward now. Geesh, I wasn’t as brave as I thought I was.
“Let’s get the lights on and start packing up equipment.” For the next two hours, that was what we did. By the time we finished, locked up the place and made it back to the office, it was nearly two in the morning. And I felt every bit of it.
“Night, everyone. I’ll start reviewing evidence around nine, if anyone wants to join me.”
“I’ll be there,” I promised. Helen said she’d come when she could but didn’t make any promises about when. Jack had to work, but he was going to stop in afterwards.
Remembering Midas’ strict rule about dating during an investigation, I didn’t linger. Besides, I was exhausted—not to mention embarrassed.
When I got home I fell into my warm bed, the ghostly breath on my neck all but forgotten. I hoped that whatever was going on with Sierra would right itself soon. Despite my worry, I felt tired. Soon I was dead asleep. For a little while.
Four hours later I found myself standing in front of Estella’s portrait. The paint wasn’t damp; I hadn’t worked on it in days. Yet my hand hovered above her face. I didn’t feel the usual compulsion to paint, but the compulsion to touch her face was just as strong as it had once been. I withdrew my hand. Maybe I should paint. Who knew what would happen? I scanned the portrait and saw nothing missing. Everything I needed to know was already there, down to the smallest detail—from the bird pin in her hair to her ruffled gown hem. If I did touch her face, maybe nothing would happen at all.
I couldn’t resist the urge to connect, to see her again, even though I didn’t like her. I knew who she was. A selfish young woman willing to kill her own brother to keep her role as Lady Spring at a small theater in lower Alabama.
But it had been all she ever wanted. And some might argue she hadn’t deserved what happened to her. I closed my eyes and touched the portrait.
*****
My tiny hospital room smelled like sickness and death. There was a perpetual chill, and I struggled to stay warm with the thin blanket. I called out for help, perhaps for another blanket, but no one came.
I’d lost track of the days since my arrival at the hospital—three, maybe four or five. I could no longer count them, thanks to the numbing medication the physician fed me regularly. At least the surgeries had ended. Oh, the agony Martin wrought upon me! I could hardly believe it, but I would be better soon. I would heal, and then I would return to seek my revenge—and my place on the stage.
But for that I had to clear my mind, which was perpetually in a fog. If the physician brought me the medicine again today, I would refuse it. Yes, I would refuse it and demand that I be released. After I rested a bit. I felt weak, and my stomach rumbled; whether from hunger or another foul stomach disruption, I could not tell. When had I eaten last? I called out again for the nurse, but no one answered.
Sometimes I woke up quite suddenly, forgetting where I was and feeling smothered under the untidy bandages wrapped around m
y face and neck.
Smothered like Brent! And wouldn’t I deserve such a fate?
I pulled the blanket up closer to my chin as I attempted to push away that thought. I’d done what was necessary. What Martin had asked of me. I would not spend time regretting it. But as if I were seeing the truth for the first time, I knew that I did regret it. I closed my eyes but could not make the memory go away. What I’d done was monstrous! Anna would certainly agree. She’d called me that when I tried to shove my knitting needles into her the day I learned that my sweetheart preferred her to me. And now she was happily married while I was left alone.
A forgotten monster.
But I won’t allow Martin to forget me. I’ve done what he asked me to do—I would have what he promised me!
I shivered and blinked against the darkness. My eyes soon adjusted to the changing light. On the opposite wall there was another bed; until tonight, it had belonged to a young woman. Sarafina, I’d heard someone call her. When I first arrived, she cried night and day for days on end, but now the bed was empty. Although I never attempted to comfort the woman or interrupted her constant prayers—for I assumed that’s what they were—I wondered what happened to her. Sarafina spoke no English but a kind of strange French, I assumed. She’d been my constant, noisy companion, and now she was simply gone. She had to be dead because her dingy sheets had been stripped away and the mattress lay bare, perhaps waiting for its next occupant. They never changed your sheets here. Not as far as I knew. Mine were smelly and sweaty. The idea of clean-smelling sheets made me homesick.
But what about Sarafina? I should have offered her solace of some kind. I could have spoken to her at least, when my mind wasn’t in a pharmaceutical haze. I was a monster, wasn’t I?
And now she had to be dead. She must have died sometime during the night. I sat up shivering in the bed, sliding my shaky legs over the side. Since the nurse wouldn’t come when I called, I must help myself. I must find food and water. I refused to lie here any longer. I would not be left here to die like the other girl. I decided the first thing that needed to be done was to unwrap the bandages around my face. They were easy to remove, and I tentatively touched my wounds. My skin was tender, and I could feel tightness on my chin, cheeks and forehead.
Ghosted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 1) Page 21
