“She looks happy,” Ryley said.
“That’s Kitty Lynch. She may have looked happy in that picture, but she was a master at deceiving and hiding her true emotions.”
Ryley flipped through Rosalind’s notes, scanning the entries without getting into the technicalities of it all.
Kitty Lynch was depressed and paranoid. “She thought people were out to get her?” Ryley asked.
“Yes.”
Ryley scanned further down the page. “She also thought her husband was cheating on her. Was he?”
“She also claimed the maids were aliens sent to steal from her to get her DNA,” Rosalind said. “She’d become unstable until I got her on the right medications. She was making significant progress. She started leaving the house, where before treatment, she wouldn’t. In the end, she’d been volunteering at a nonprofit. That radiant look returned to her eyes, only I believe that it was real.” Rosalind gestured to the file.
“She was happy and in love. I bet that made her husband happy.”
“I don’t believe it was him that brought the spark back into her life.”
“And you think she didn’t commit suicide? Do you think the husband thought she might be cheating, seeing the light in her eyes, and he was the one who committed the crime?”
“No. I mean, yes. I believe it was murder, but I don’t think he did it.” Rosalind picked up her wine glass and drained it before disappearing into the kitchen. She returned with a half-empty bottle of wine. She poured herself another glass.
Ryley closed the file and set it on the table. “Rosalind, what makes you think Kitty’s stalking you?”
Rosalind sat down on the couch and cupped the wine glass in her palms. There was hesitation in her eyes, as if she was afraid.
“You can tell me. I won’t judge,” Ryley said.
“Kitty died two weeks ago, and I haven’t gotten much sleep since then.” Rosalind sipped her wine. “There are noises in the night that wake me up, banging of my pots and pans. I’ve woken up to find her standing over my bed pointing a finger at me. She lunges and then disappears before she reaches me. The other day, I was in the shower, and when I got out, there was a word written in the condensation on the mirror.
“What word?”
“Bitch,” Rosalind said, lifting her gaze to Ryley’s.
“Any reason she would be mad at you?”
Rosalind took another sip of her wine. At the rate she was drinking, she’d finish the bottle before Ryley ever got all the answers.
“Maybe she thinks I didn’t help her enough. Maybe she blames me for her passing. I don’t know. All I know is her visits are escalating, and I need her to stop, or it’s my funeral you’ll be attending.”
“Was there anything you might have missed in her file? Any reason for her to believe you didn’t care?”
Rosalind shook her head. “Kitty was coming out of her depression. She’d found a new reason to live and be happy.”
“Did she tell you what that reason was?” Ryley asked.
“She said it was too soon to say. She didn’t want to jinx it.” Rosalind rose from her chair. “Listen, I can’t stay here. Last night at the hotel was the first real night of sleep that I’ve had. So, I’m going back there.”
“I understand,” Ryley said. “Do you mind if I stay for a while?”
“Of course not.” Rosalind smiled. “I’d appreciate it if you did.”
“I’d like to visit Kitty’s house so I can meet her family. Most times, unsettled spirits linger around the people they love.”
“Of course. I promised to stop by tomorrow evening. Will you be free?”
Ryley nodded. Reading of the will was scheduled for one in the afternoon. She would only be there long enough to tell the attorney she wasn’t interested and then leave. “That works for me.”
Rosalind grabbed her purse and the overnight bag and headed for the door. “Just lock up when you leave if you don’t stay the night.”
“Not a problem. I still have your key,” Ryley said, following Rosalind to the door.
Ryley watched from the front steps as Rosalind got into her car and drove off. She had time to kill while waiting for Kitty to manifest. If it was really Kitty. Ryley grabbed her laptop out of the car. She locked the front door behind her and rested her back against the wood and stared into the living room.
Kitty Lynch had a violent streak. Had Rosalind missed something in their sessions?
Ryley plopped down on the couch and pulled out her laptop. She typed in the names on the Bells’ headstones. In seconds, she had lots of article options to pick from. She clicked on the first, and her breath hitched. It was an uploaded news article from the sixties. The family had been slaughtered on Christmas eve. The case was still cold and unsolved.
Her shoulders slumped, and she shut her laptop and grabbed Kitty’s hefty file. Ryley flipped to the first meeting Rosalind had with her patient. It was about her marriage and how things were falling apart. Three reports later, the husband joined them to talk through issues. He’d only showed up for another two more sessions before he disappeared out of the notes.
“Where did you go, Christopher Lynch?” Ryley whispered, kicking off her shoes. She laid down on the couch and continued to read through every gritty personal detail to get a feel for the stalker.
There was a gradual decline in Kitty’s behavior until Rosalind had remarked that Kitty seemed different. That report was dated six months before her death.
Ryley tried to force her eyes to remain open. When all the words blurred, she rested the file on her chest and closed her eyes. She just needed a few minutes to relax her strained eyes.
Something startled her awake. God, it was cold in the room. She lay frozen on the couch, straining to hear what had woken her up. The file that had been resting on her chest was gone. The perfectly contained reports were now scattered in disarray around the floor.
“Well, aren’t you a powerful one.” Ryley sat up, trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. Ghosts needed a ton of energy to manipulate objects, and this had the strength of an emotional poltergeist.
Ryley slid off the couch onto her knees and scooped up the papers, trying to get them in some type of order. “You’re obviously pissed. Why don’t you show yourself so we can talk about it. I don’t bite.”
Ryley was met with silence until she heard the squeak coming from behind her. She turned just in time to see the kitchen shutters over the bar move back into place.
“There you are.” Ryley left the file and headed for the kitchen. She rounded the corner and froze.
A butcher knife protruded from the wall, with the blade holding up Kitty’s picture.
A chill blew through Ryley, freezing her to the bone and whipping her hair into her face. Another bang sounded from somewhere else in the house.
Fear slithered down Ryley’s spine. Her supplies were in her car, and something was telling her this ghost wasn’t leaving without a fight.
Chapter 16
Ryley went to her car and grabbed her supplies.
The flame from the lighter flickered as she lit the bundle of sage. Smoke drifted in the air.
“Playtime is over,” she called out and proceeded to sage every nook and cranny inside the entire house.
The sage left a thick, smoky haze, the likes of which Ryley hadn’t seen since visiting her brother’s college fraternity.
She salted around all the doors and windows, wiping the sweat from her brow when done.
With keys in hand, she walked out, locking the door behind her.
Clouds covered the moon, making the darkness impenetrable. Dogs barked in the distance, and a crow cawed overhead. She scanned her surroundings, feeling the weight of someone’s eyes on her, watching. Waiting.
Dark energy in the air prickled her skin. She turned and scanned the area, searching for anything amiss. She wasn’t alone, even if she couldn’t see the threat.
“I can help you if you’d just take a fr
eakin chill pill,” Ryley called into the darkness.
Silence greeted her, and she made her way to the car. A single handprint was left in the condensation on her car window. Once more, she glanced around the wooded area next to Rosalind’s home. The houses may have been within running distance on the other side of the trees, but Ryley had never felt more alone.
She climbed inside and closed the door.
“Say it like you mean it, sister,” Stretch said from the passenger seat, making Ryley jump.
She rested her hand over her racing heart. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”
“Sorry.” Stretch grinned. She wasn’t sorry, but Ryley was too tired to argue with her.
“That ghost is giving you fits,” Stretch said as Ryley started the car and turned on her lights.
“Yep, she’s angry about something, and I can’t help her until I figure it out.”
“The doctor lady was one of the few adults that believed I existed and wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. Regardless of her suggestion that you figure out a way to get rid of me because I’m a destructive influence.”
“Well, she wasn’t wrong.” Ryley pulled onto the road. She was beyond tired and needed some sleep. At the rate she was going, she’d have to get someone to cover her shift again tomorrow night.
“Well, she wasn’t right, either. There is more to meets the eye than what you see. And I would know.” Stretch rested her hand on her chest. “I know everything there is to know about light and dark, and I’ve taught you well.”
“My parents beat you to the punch. Mom’s energy was light. Dad’s energy was dark,” Ryley answered.
“And yet you walk in the gray. Well, you can’t give them credit for teaching you about ghosts, shadow people, and creepy crawlies. That was all me. And then what about boys? Who helped you through your awkward teenage years?” Stretch framed her face and gave a sweet smile.
Ryley rolled her eyes. Stretch had a point, not that Ryley would admit it. Her mom was too sick to teach her much of anything. And her brother’s girlfriends never stuck around. “I’m too exhausted to be having this conversation.”
“Fine. When you need my help, I might not be around.” Stretch vanished in a blink of Ryley’s eyes.
“You should have left years ago anyway,” Ryley grumbled and returned home, bypassing the mailbox. If her father wanted to scare her, he’d have to wait until the morning. She slogged up the stairs and checked that the tape on her door was still intact before she unlocked all the locks and stepped inside.
Relocking everything, she made it to her bedroom and dropped her things on the dresser before kicking off her shoes. She climbed in bed without even getting undressed.
She closed her eyes and sighed at the familiarity of her own pillow. Darkness sucked her under and carried her into dreams.
A rocket could have launched next to her, and it wouldn’t have woken her. Had the ghost followed her home and tried to scare her, she wouldn’t have heard a thing. She’d slept like the dead until her alarm clock went off.
Ryley sat up, scrubbing her face with her hands. “There’s a nap in my future.”
She lowered her palms. A gasp escaped her lips. An older man was watching her from a chair across the room.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, climbing out of her bed. It was too early to deal with visiting spirits, including one with no personal boundaries.
“Harlon Wilson, at your service.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” She shook her head. “You moved on. I didn’t feel your energy at the funeral.”
“I don’t have to be emotionally stuck here to visit you. I can come and go as I please.”
Ryley grabbed clothes and headed for the bathroom, turning around at the last minute. “See, that’s the thing. You don’t even know me and have no reason to visit. So why are you here?”
“You were at my funeral.”
“I’m at everyone’s funeral,” Ryley tossed her hands up in the air. “I go to make sure ghosts like you don’t linger. It’s not good for anyone when they do.”
“You’re a do-gooder just like I was and destined for great things, Ryley St. James, and I’m going to help you.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got all the help I need. So, you can haunt someone else.” She closed the bathroom door and reopened it to tell the ghost she had boundaries even if he didn’t, but Wilson had vanished.
Now if she could just talk some sense into Stretch and move her along.
Ryley took a shower and got dressed. On the way to the reading of the will, she called her brother.
He answered on the first ring. “You didn’t get arrested again, did you?”
“No, listen, this is a legal question.”
“That’s never a good thing. Is your question going to ruin my day?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Great. You can ask, and I won’t even charge you.”
Like he would ever charge her, anyway. “If someone put me in a will, I don’t have to accept whatever they gave me, right? I mean, I can turn it down.”
“Ryley, who put you in their will?” Tucker questioned.
“Mr. Harlon Wilson, apparently.”
“Who the hell is that? Was he a regular at your bar?”
“No. He didn’t strike me as the kind that would visit the bar. I’ve never seen him before this morning.”
“If he’s dead and you just saw him this morning, what makes you think he left you something in his will. He has to be alive to sign those papers.” Tucker lowered his voice. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Get a grip. I saw him as a spirit in my bedroom, and his was the last funeral I attended. Apparently, he invited everyone who showed up at the funeral to the reading of his will. It was his dying wish.”
“That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. How many mourners were there?”
“Just me. I figured the guy didn’t have any family, but I don’t know.”
“And…did you happen to see him floating around at the funeral?” Tucker asked.
He believed in her ability. He was the first one who ever had, and she’d loved him for it. The one person who didn’t think she was losing her mind.
“Nope. He’s not emotionally stuck here, Apparently, he can visit anyone he wants, and he chose me this morning. But I’m only calling to make sure I don’t have any legal obligations.”
Tucker’s agitated sigh was something Ryley understood. “You do not have to accept anything in his will. You don’t even have to go to the reading. It’s not your responsibility.”
“What if he gifted the mourners something fabulous?” Ryley asked.
“Ryley.” She could hear the disapproval in her brother’s voice. “Maybe I should go with you.”
“I’m already in the car. I’ll call you when it’s over or if they try to railroad me into something or if I need help fencing a diamond necklace that he’s left.”
“That’s not even funny.”
She grinned. “It could be if you had a sense of humor.”
“Call me back before you make any rash decisions.”
“Why break my bad decision-making streak with your opinion?” She chuckled.
“My next client isn’t due for two hours. Tell me where the reading is, and I’ll meet you there.”
“No need, love you, bye.” She ended the call before he could complain.
She’d never been to a reading of a will before. She’d hadn’t known anyone who’d had a will, much less left her something. Not even her mother on her death bed.
Chapter 17
Ryley pulled into the Pinkerton Law parking lot and took the last space facing the building. She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her head.
Pulling at the hem of her t-shirt, she tried to straighten it. Most people inside were probably still wearing dull black mourning clothes. She hadn’t thought to do the same. She still wasn’t even sure why she was there.
The door b
eeped when she pulled it open. A woman in a business suit popped out of an office. “I’ll be right with you.”
Ryley nodded and swallowed around her apprehension.
A lavender scent filled the air, mixing with the scent of leather from the furniture. The tinted windows blocked a majority of the harsh rays from the afternoon sun.
The office building was rather small with respect to her brother’s office space. There were no pretentious awards hanging on the walls. No fortune-five-hundred magazines were sitting on the tables—only a vase of stargazer lilies- pretty enough, but she didn’t like the smell.
Her brother told her that attending funerals would get her in trouble one day. Was that day already here?
The woman reappeared wearing a gray business suit with coffee in hand. She smiled. “Can I help you?”
Ryley pulled out the invite and handed it to her. “I’m not sure why I’m here, but your private investigator followed me to deliver an invitation.”
Her gaze shot up to Ryley’s, and her eyes sparkled. “Ah yes! Ms. St. James, isn’t it?”
Ryley nodded.
“I’m Jane Pinkerton, Mr. Wilson’s Attorney. You were at Mr. Wilson’s funeral, correct?”
She nodded.
“Can I ask why you were there?”
“When my mother died, it was only my brother and me at the funeral. Had she not had children, there wouldn’t have been anyone there to witness her final moments in the mortal world. And that always bothered me. Attending funerals is a small gesture to make sure other people didn’t experience the same thing.”
Ryley lied about the reason, although it had been just her and her brother at Mom’s funeral if she didn’t count being surrounded by the ghosts that had refused to move on. The tears Ryley cried that day hadn’t been in mourning, they’d been in fear.
“So, you attended as a good Samaritan.” Jane grinned.
“I guess you could say that.” Ryley glanced around. “Listen, um, I’m don’t know why you invited me, but I’m not looking for anything.”
Jane gestured toward the hall. “You might not have been looking for it, but it found you. Please, this won’t take long, if you’ll just follow me.”
Grave Wrong (Lost Souls Society Book 1) Page 8
