by S. E. Harmon
“I miscalculated when I bought this charm. I thought Rick was a five, but it turns out he’s an eight.” She clucked her tongue. “Do you know anyone who might be a five?”
“Did you check the cousins? Maybe Sage is… Oh, wait.” I recalculated and shook my head. “Danny is a five.”
“Oh, good.” She beamed as she held out the charm. “Give this to him, then. Everyone should have something with their soul number on it.”
“He’s not much of a jewelry person….” She looked like she was gearing up for an argument, so I tucked it in my pocket. “I’ll give it to him.”
She must’ve picked up on something in my tone because she set the mail on the table and stood. “Rain, would you mind helping me water my plants?”
Figures. I wanted to talk about something serious, and my twin wanted to chat about lawn care. “Sure, why not?” My tone was decidedly sarcastic as she approached. “It’s not like I had anything important to talk about.”
She twisted my ear as she passed, and I let out a little yelp. I growled, rubbing my ear, but followed her obediently with no more sass. She led the way to the back of the house, where a hatch led up to the roof.
I helped her pull down the ladder and then followed her up and onto the roof. The grass was plush and soft, even under my shoes. Rows of plants lined the edge in ceramic pots she’d made herself. There was a beautiful yellow bird bathing itself in the birdbath, adding to the picturesque atmosphere.
“She comes by nearly every day. Rick thinks she’s too loud, but I think the noise is rather cheery,” Sky said, with a smile, settling herself on the ground. “I call her Meryl Cheep. It’s like medicine for your spirits, don’t you think?”
As if in agreement, the bird chirruped loudly, and I winced. “I guess I’m in the control group. So, where’s the hose?”
“We don’t use a hose. We use rainwater we collect in a barrel. That was just an excuse so we could be alone, Sherlock.” She patted the ground next to her invitingly. “Now what happened?”
With a regretful look at my tailored slacks, I lowered myself to the grass, sitting next to her. I copied her position, folding my legs and resting my elbows on my knees. “What would you say about a ghost taking over my body?”
“Seriously?” Her lower lip stuck out in a pout that was, quite frankly, ridiculous. “Dude, you get all the fun.”
“Not exactly what I’d call it. Dude.”
She still looked a little too jazzed at the prospect of a ghost wearing me like a skin. “So what was it like?”
I struggled to come up with words to accurately depict the experience, but nothing seemed quite right. “It’s hard to describe. It was almost like he seeped into me somehow. Strangest experience of my life.” Reliving it, even in my mind, made actual goose bumps pop up on my forearms. I rubbed them briskly. “It was like I wasn’t in control anymore of my mind or body.”
“Hmm.” She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “My first inclination is that it was some type of metempsychosis.”
“What?”
“Metempsychosis,” she repeated loudly.
“Yes, because putting more emphasis on the word makes it have meaning,” I said dryly. “What is it?”
“A transmigration of souls. It’s a common belief in many cultures that the soul can pass from one body to another.”
“Like reincarnation.”
“In a sense. The cycle of rebirth is eternal unless the soul is released—moksha.” At my blank look, she repeated the strange word. “Moksha.”
“God bless you.”
She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Anyway, while the idea of metempsychosis is tempting, I’m leaning more toward a psychic intrusion. Unless the medium develops a strong boundary between themselves and the outside world, you act like a psychic sponge.” She paused. “What did he show you?”
“He was arguing with someone he knew well. Some kid he’d shown special interest in from his job as a social worker.”
“And this kid. What was he so upset about?” She looked at me expectantly, and when I hesitated, her face fell. “Oh no.”
“I’m not sure any of it is true. I think the kid was just trying to get back at Joey in the only way he could think of.”
“Have you talked to Dakota about this?”
“He’s got me wearing this amulet.” I lifted the stone. It seemed to glow briefly, but it was probably a trick of the light. “I wish I could take the damned thing off for a little while—”
“You absolutely will not. Isn’t that right?” When I didn’t answer quickly enough for her tastes, she smacked my arm. “I said, isn’t that right?”
“Jesus, yes. Right. I was already beaten up by a serial killer, you know,” I said with an extra dose of drama. “You don’t need to add to it.”
“He just smacked you around a little. Nothing a bag of frozen peas won’t fix.”
I glared. “Your empathy is astounding.”
She shrugged. When she touched my bruised cheek gingerly, I winced. “I have some salve that might help.” Her eyes brightened. “Hey, maybe next time the ghost will show you the murder. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
My eyebrows climbed my forehead. “Look, if you want to be the only twin, just say so.”
“I’m serious. If you could learn how to control that skill, it could be invaluable. Imagine how you’d be helping Joey.”
“Helping him relive the worst and last moments of his life?”
“Helping him know he’s not alone during the last moments of his life,” she said firmly. “You can take some of his burden, and then you finish the job by catching his monster.”
“Maybe,” I finally said.
“You’re doing a good thing, Rainstorm,” she said, brushing back the hair out of my eyes. It immediately fell right back over my forehead. “This is important work and they need you. You’ll figure it out.”
“That’s… actually a pretty smart way to look at it.”
“I’m a smart cookie,” she said with a grin.
“Definitely as smart as a cookie,” I agreed. I knew that remark would net me a punch in the arm. Even though I steeled myself, I still yelped when she socked me. “Ow.”
Her grin grew. “Wuss.”
Below us, two cars pulled up almost simultaneously—one I didn’t recognize and Danny’s Charger right behind it. He pulled next to the curb and got out. The car honked as he engaged the alarm with the remote. We waved as he disappeared inside.
The other car flashed the lights twice, and my sister waved as my nieces, twin girls named Kari and Kassi, tumbled out of the back seat. They spotted me at the same time and squealed.
“Let me get them settled and doing homework before dinner.” Sky groaned as she used my shoulder to lever herself to her feet. “They’ll be frothing at the mouth to see you, so it’ll provide some good motivation.”
I stood up too, smiling crookedly. Danny wasn’t the only reason I’d come back from DC. My family had played an essential role in that decision, also. Now I lived close enough to my parents to keep an eye on them, a little too close, perhaps, but that was another story for another day. I was also close enough to drop in on my sister anytime I wanted, and I was able to be part of my nieces’ lives, not just watch them grow up through texts and Facetime calls. And I get to do it all with the person I love the most right by my side.
“I want to see them too,” was all I said.
She looked at me for a moment and then smiled. “It’s okay to feel things, you know. I mean that with love.”
“And I mean this with love,” I said pleasantly. “Shut up.”
“Dinner shouldn’t be too long. I’ll send Danny up,” she said, patting my cheek. “You want me to let him know that you guys are staying?”
“No, I should be the one to break the news.” At her squint, I smiled. “I mean, tell him the good news.”
“You do that.”
She disappeared down the hatch, and I stood there in
silence for a few moments, just enjoying the view. Dusk was approaching fast, turning the sky purple and pink, and it looked like a photoshopped picture. I wasn’t going to be building a yurt anytime soon, but the view was something I could get used to. Meryl Cheep chirped, and I gave her side-eye. She didn’t seem at all concerned that she was ruining the peace.
“You know, they may be vegetarians, but I’m not,” I said meaningfully. “I stand with the Colonel when I say birds are finger-lickin’—”
“Hey.”
I turned at the sound of Danny’s voice behind me. He didn’t look pleased and that was before his gaze dropped to my bruised cheek. Gentle, warm fingers turned my face this way and that. I felt strangely vulnerable in that moment, which was rather annoying. Danny went on the shortlist of people who could make me feel that way, right before my sister and directly behind my mother.
When he spoke, his anger was barely restrained. “Did Kane do this to you?” He didn’t wait for the obvious answer to what amounted to a rhetorical question. “I should kill that motherfucker.”
“Last time I checked, the state has dibs.”
I moved my head slightly, and his hand dropped from my jaw. His hands flexed twice like he wanted to inspect me again. “I knew something like this would fucking happen.”
“Well, you should’ve told me. The fact that someone is going to use your cranium as a battering ram on a metal table is a hot little tip, my friend.” At his exasperated look, I held up my hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry. I promise not to underestimate him from now on.”
“From now on?” His eyebrow climbed his forehead. “Tell me you’re not thinking of going back down there.”
“I have to.” I frowned at him. “Graycie is counting on me.”
His mouth worked as held back things probably better left unsaid. “You don’t work for the fucking FBI,” he finally ground out. “Maybe it’s time you remember that.”
“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
He reached in his pocket and tossed me something that I instinctively caught. I looked down to find my FBI badge in his hands. I couldn’t stop the flush rising in my cheeks even as I gripped it hard enough to make indentations in my palm. I wasn’t sure if I felt more guilty, or embarrassed, or angry. Maybe equal parts of all three.
“Dinner!” We ignored the muffled shout from below, too caught up in our drama for something as plebian as food.
“How did you find this?” I tried to keep my voice even.
It was clear he was trying to do the same. “Tabitha needed to add something to Joseph Carr’s murder book, and I knew it was in your office somewhere.”
My eyebrows drew together. “So you went through my bag?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said irritably. “I was checking your attaché case for the file, and I stumbled across the badge.”
I believed him, unequivocally. He didn’t make a habit of lying to me—especially not about stupid shit—but I had no other outlet for my anger. “You should’ve asked.”
“I wasn’t aware we’re not allowed to touch each other’s things,” he said exasperatedly. “You’re telling me you’d think twice before going through my desk? My glovebox?”
I wanted to argue with him on principle, but we both knew the answer. “Still,” I said shortly.
He ran a hand through his hair, his movements short and jerky. “Look, if you don’t want me to ever touch your bag again, then I won’t. But that’s not the real issue here, is it?”
“Time for dinner,” someone shouted from below.
We ignored the call again. I paced a line across the grassy roof and back, twice, before I trusted myself to speak calmly. “I wasn’t going to take the job.”
He watched me pace, his brows drawn together in a frown. “Then why did you take the badge?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Do you want to go back to the FBI?”
I hesitated because he deserved a real answer, and I didn’t have one. My pause went on a little too long, and his expression grew remote. “I don’t know,” I said again. It was like a parrot had taken over my body, and he only knew three words.
“Are you leaving me?” he finally asked hoarsely.
“What?” Startled, my gaze flew to his. “No. God no. What are you even thinking right now?”
He searched my face for the truthfulness of that answer for a few moments, and I tried my best to show him my honesty. He let out a little sigh. “I don’t know.”
Fuck, that damn parrot got him, too.
“Danny, I—”
The hatch on the ground lifted, and my sister poked her head through. She looked irritable as she blew a long strand of blonde hair out of her face. “At the risk of sounding repetitive, dinner is ready.”
I sent her an irritated look. “We’re trying to have a conversation here—”
“It can keep.” Danny’s cool expression matched his voice. “Let’s go eat.”
My sister’s eyebrows rose at his tone. Her gaze ping-ponged back and forth between us before settling on me, and I shook my head. She disappeared down the hatch, and Danny followed her right after.
“Well, fuck.” I stared at the bird in the birdbath, and she stared back. “I certainly could’ve handled that better.”
Meryl Cheep shrieked her agreement.
It wasn’t long before we sat down to a nice dinner of Tofurkey, a side of something yellow, and another side of something pureed and slightly less yellow. There should just be a sign in Sky’s kitchen inscribed with the phrase run for your life. I speared a piece of Tofurkey with my fork, stuck it in my mouth, and chewed grimly. I wanted a word with whoever created that culinary fuckery, STAT.
Tofurkey aside—way aside, like on the next block aside—sitting down to dinner with family felt wonderfully normal. Conversation flowed around the table, easy and light… for the most part.
I was seated at Danny’s left, but he didn’t seem too interested in talking with me. He was, however, keen on having a sparkling conversation with Rick about baseball. I listened wistfully, trying to seem like I wasn’t. I thought baseball was slightly less boring than watching grass grow, but fuck, I hated being ignored by Danny.
I shoveled the last bit of yellow stuff in my mouth. Once I’d realized it was butternut squash macaroni, I had to admit it wasn’t half bad. It proved my theory that real cheese made just about anything palatable. Thank you, Lord, for the blessings of Colby Jack.
I held out my plate for more, and my sister ladled me out a scoop. “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “It’s a new recipe I found on Pinterest. You’d never guess it was healthy, would you?”
Yes, I would. Carbohydrates and I were old friends, the best of friends. My stomach knew when carbs were missing and when to file a police report.
“It’s not half bad,” I mumbled around a mouthful.
“One serving has more potassium than a banana,” Kassi piped up.
“Where’d you hear that?” Kari demanded.
“I watched a special on the Food Network.” Kassi flipped her hair, nose in the air. I tried not to smile, but that girl was Skylar’s daughter through and through. “I know what I’m talking about. I always do. That’s why I get better grades than you.”
By a landslide, actually. I used to love rubbing my straight A report cards in my sister’s flustered face. Sky sent me a narrow-eyed glance, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Guess she hadn’t forgotten those days either.
To no one’s surprise, Kari found the disparaging of her straight C average objectionable. “You do not,” she snapped. “And grades aren’t everything.”
“I do too!”
Skylar sighed. “Rick.”
“Girls,” he said mildly. Entirely too used to his children’s ways, he didn’t even look up from his plate.
“Leave a little room for dessert, you guys,” Skylar said with a smile. She gestured toward a plate on the kitc
hen counter. “I made cookies. Chocolate chip.”
My heart soared… until I saw the so-called cookies on the serving dish. I should’ve known better. They didn’t look like any chocolate chip cookies I’d ever seen.
“Why are they green?” Danny blurted.
“It’s a new recipe I found on a clean-living forum. You use apple juice and pureed broccoli.”
Jesus wept.
Danny kicked my foot, and I realized I’d spoken aloud. “I mean, that sounds delicious. Can’t wait.”
“So, how are things at work?” Rick said, a twinkle in his eye.
I was thankful he diverted attention away from the apple juice and broccoli chip cookies. Still, work was another topic I had no desire to discuss.
“Good,” Danny said.
“Great,” I said at the same time.
Rick raised an eyebrow. “That sounds convincing.”
“Uncle Rain, do we have any ghosts?” Kari asked.
“Er, not that I see.”
“Can you call some up?” She persisted. “Maybe banish them from the earth?”
“Definitely not.”
Her face fell, clearly disappointed that I couldn’t do anything even remotely cool with spirits. “So what can you do with them?”
“Not much.” I hid a smile as her face fell farther. “Just the way I like it.”
Rick shook his head. “It all seems kind of dangerous to me. There are just so many things you don’t know about it. So many things that could go wrong.”
“It’s not as bad as all that.” I stabbed my fork in a cube of Tofurkey and it fell apart into crumbles. I glanced up at the circle of doubtful faces around the table. “It isn’t,” I insisted.
Recent developments with Joey aside, that is, which no one needed to know about. I sent Sky a squinty-eyed glare lest she forget that Vegas rules applied, and what we talked about on the roof stayed on the fucking roof.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get better and better at this ghosting business,” Rick said with his usual positivity. “I mean, look at what you’ve learned already. Imagine how much better the PTU will be next year.”
