Ghost

by Charmaine Ross

  We now had our killer, we had our place and time and I was determined to end this mess. “We have to get more evidence and we have to get to today. I say we get ready and back to Lucy’s house and check Paul’s bedroom. Tonight.”

  Chapter Eight

  The light in Lucy’s house had gone out an hour ago. We waited for an extra half hour to make sure Lucy would well and truly be tucked in bed and firmly in the land of z’s. Nothing stirred. Which was amazing considering the sort of neighbourhood we were in.

  “We’ll go through the back door,” Laura said.

  “Spoken like a true…journalist,” I said, ignoring her less-than-impressed counter stare.

  We got out of the car and crossed the street on our tip-toes. I crouched low, keeping to the shadows. We flattened ourselves against the side of the house, waiting, listening. Nothing but the silence of the night folded around us. We waited for long moments, my heart pounding in my ears. When we were sure nothing stirred, we snuck around the house to the back door.

  “Perfect conditions,” Laura muttered as she pulled a small case from the back pocket of her jeans. There was a flash of something silver before she slipped it into the doorknob. A moment later the door swung open. When she saw my quizzical expression she said, “Skeleton keys.”

  “You and I are really going to sit down and have a talk,” I whispered. She didn’t answer.

  We stepped into the house and Laura quietly closed the door behind us. The smells of the house bombarded me and I struggled not to choke. We were in the kitchen and the scents of stale rubbish, grease, and grime added to the cigarette smoke.

  The kitchen was a mess and bacteria’s ultimate fun-park. My gaze swept over dirty dishes stacked on benches, empty chip packets and opened spaghetti cans left discarded on the bench. Half-drunk coffee mugs littered spaces between half-finished meals.

  The mess flowed onto the floor. The bin burst over the top with rubbish and was surrounded by tied up full plastic bags. I accidentally disturbed a bag with my foot and several cockroaches scuttled across the floor. My skin crawled as the bugs found a place beneath the oven.

  “Let’s get out of here as fast as we can,” I whispered to Laura.

  The look on her face told me she was as repulsed as I was. She nodded and headed into the hallway. Our steps were silent on the carpet. We drew to the end and I recognised where we’d come through the front door and into the living room. I sunk a peek into the lounge room to where the dog basket was and let out a whoosh of breath when I saw it was empty.

  She pointed upwards, indicating we needed to take the stairs. The air seemed thicker the further we moved into the heart of the house. The house oozed repression as though it was an extension of its owner. As we stepped onto the landing, I heard Lucy snoring from one of the rooms adjacent to us.

  Laura indicated the room beside the room Lucy was in. Bedrooms were usually clustered together so hopefully, this would be Paul’s bedroom. A beam of pencil thin light cut through the dark and Laura pushed a small torch into my palm. “I’ll start over here, you start over there.”

  With the light, I was at least able to see the state of the room. If I thought the rest of the house was messy, then I hadn’t seen anything. It was ceiling to floor chaos. There were piles and piles of boxes, heaped one on top of the other sagging and balancing precariously in corners and against walls. Clothes were strewn on the floor. Even if they had been clean once, they were now filthy and had been crushed and flattened so much with someone walking on top of them, they could be carpet themselves.

  Bookshelves were nailed to the wall. The middle shelf had broken and was now attached to the wall at one end while the other end rested on the shelf below it. Bits and pieces were scattered in a jumbled heap on top of the shelving. The junk on the top shelf almost reached the ceiling. There was so much mess that my eyes skimmed over everything, not finding a spot to rest. I really didn’t know where to start looking for, well, anything. My heart sank. It would take a team of people weeks to wade through all this crap.

  I skimmed the light over some books about finance and the stock market. One was titled Financial Advice for Dummies. Obviously, Paul was looking for financial independence. Looked like it had evaded him so far. No wonder he thought Henry was his way out of this dump. He was desperate.

  There was the sound of a latch, a click, and a whir. I turned to see the light of a computer screen flicker on. The internet jumped to life as the screen heated up. “Didn’t even turn it off. I just opened the top and it started,” Laura whispered.

  I looked closer. The page that had opened on the internet was information about drugs and titled “What is valium?” Laura clicked the backward button, where the previous catalogue of pages viewed were all drug-related. “This just confirms the way Henry died, not that Paul did it,” I whispered into Laura’s ear.

  “Agreed. We still need something concrete—like the real will.”

  “Do you think he’d be stupid enough to keep it here?”

  Laura raised her brows, “Look around, we’re not playing with a mastermind genius here.”

  I studied the room waiting for something, anything to jump out at me. I went over to his desk and slid the top drawer open to reveal a stack of chocolate bars and a pile of empty wrappers. Nothing else in there.

  The next drawer down contained stationery with the largest assortment of pens I’d ever seen. Paul was definitely a hoarder. It made me wonder if the mess in the house was more due to him rather than Lucy. Maybe she’d just…given up. There was a closed box on the floor, looking in much better condition than the rest of the boxes discarded throughout the room.

  I dropped to my knees and drew it from beneath the desk. It was A4 size and roughly ten centimetres thick. The kind of box you’d keep important documents. Documents you didn’t want to go missing in a messy room.

  My hands shook as I tried to leverage the lid open. The cardboard tab was stiff, so I used my fingernail to slide it upwards. The top flipped open. It was filled to the brim with papers, receipts, invoices and—quite possibly—a will. I put the torch in my mouth and leafed through the papers.

  There was a soft, low growl behind me. My body stiffened as my skin prickled with sticky perspiration and awareness. The fucking dog. I turned, slowly, barely able to contain myself not to scramble away in a fear-based frenzy, just managed to keep it slow and calm. I heard Laura’s breathing, a shaky sound coming from the dark behind me. There was a shift in the shadows in front of me and a black nose peeked into the torchlight.

  “Get up. Slowly.” Laura’s voice was nothing more than a whisper floating on a breath.

  I levered myself up. As my leg straightened, the sharp sensation of pins and needles struck my ankles. The growl came closer and as I rose, the dog stepped into the room, bolder, teeth barred, canines sharp. Very sharp. They’d rip through my jeans and flesh like they were butter.

  “There’s a window behind the bed. Step up onto the bed with me and we’ll get out that way.”

  “But we’re two stories high.”

  “It’s the window or the dog. The window’s easier.”

  Laura grabbed my upper arm and steered me backward. I stumbled against the bed. The movement was enough to agitate the dog. It gave an enormous, deep bark, and hunkered down on all fours. I screamed for Elliot in my mind with everything that made me who I was, every emotion, every cell, every atom. Screamed like I’d never screamed in my life. I threw the box at the dog and papers flew everywhere.

  The dog spun on his heel as something drew his attention away from me, but then as though remembering why he was snarling, he turned back on me pitching himself forward on all fours.

  The rest seemed to happen in slow motion. The dog growled a sound that seared the air at the same time as it leapt at us. The papers parted and its huge black head barrelled through. Something hard pushed into my chest and thrust me up and backward. Momentum propelled me against Laura. My legs became tangled in material and I
landed against a wall. Only the sound was hollow. And the wall wasn’t solid. There was a sharp crack, a splintering sound. The wall behind me gave way and I continued to roll through it. My back crunched hard on a thin precipice, jarring my spine and splitting skin and then I was falling down. Cool air kissed my face, but I didn’t have time to think about how fresh it was before I struck the unyielding ground.

  I crumpled, limbless, like a rag doll onto the ground. A heavy sharp edge jarred into my stomach. I went to breathe, but my body refused. Black edged my vision. I willed it all to go away, but I didn’t clear. The last thing I thought before I passed out was this was going to end badly.

  Very bad.

  I opened heavy eyelids that would much rather stay shut, but something urgent flickered on the edge of my awareness, almost willing me to fight against their weighty pull. Consciousness slapped me and with it the knowledge of where I was and what I was doing. The dog was snarling and barking from somewhere above me. I looked towards the sound and fell into twin pools of concerned emerald. A sense of deja-vu struck me. I’d woken like this before. This first time I’d met—Elliot!

  “Elliot!” I cried. It came out more of a groan. “You’re here!”

  A warm hand was pressed to my cheek, not a familiar touch, but gentle. Almost a caress. My skin tingled with little sparks of heat, almost like pins and needles. His brows dipped, “I thought you would keep out of trouble if I wasn’t around.” I pressed my palm against the hand on my cheek and met solid warmth. The breath stuck mid-way in my throat. It must be him…but reality said it couldn’t possibly be. I held onto the moment as long as possible, but the question fled my mouth, “Is that…is that really you?”

  He jerked back, face startled. The warmth left my cheek and I regretted saying anything to him. “No. It can’t be.”

  “Touch me again.” I waited, but only felt the cool air on my cheek. “Touch me, Elliot!”

  Moments passed. “I am.” His voice was a hollow monotone.

  My heart sank when I realised I couldn’t feel him, but then it hammered again with what I knew I’d felt, “Elliot! I felt you! Even if it was just for a moment, I felt you!”

  “You couldn’t have. I can’t touch anything.”

  “And you’re here!”

  “Cassie, you shouldn’t be here. I told you explicitly not to come. It is far too dangerous for you.”

  I didn’t really hear his words, I was just so happy to see him again. “But you came. For me!”

  He studied me for a stretched moment before his lips pursed and his forehead tightened with wrinkles, “Yes. I did.”

  I couldn’t keep the silly smile off my face. He was cross with me. If he was cross with me it meant that a small part of him cared. My heart did a crazy little flip with that secret bit of knowledge.

  Something heavy footed crashed into a bush. I glanced up as Laura emerged from the shadows brushing leaves from her shoulders. There were drops of blood and a scratch on her cheek. My smile dropped, “What happened to you?”

  “Same thing that happened to you. We fell out of a second story window.”

  As she told me, my body reared its head with various pains that confirmed it. I tried to sit up, but my bruised stomach protested. Laura took my forearms and helped me to sit. I put my hand to my forehead as the world spun. “But, how?”

  Laura glanced up at the window. I followed her gaze. A light came on in what was Lucy’s bedroom, along with Lucy’s grating voice, “Ya lousy mutt, what ya barkin’ bout this time. Come ‘ere an I’ll slap ya gob shut.” The dog stopped barking and retreated inside.

  I stumbled to my feet, ignoring the world when it tilted, “Let’s get out of here before she lets the dog out.”

  I stumbled over my feet, feeling every jolting step. Elliot silently stalked us. We rounded the house and crossed the street to the car. Laura folded me inside and landed in the driver’s seat a second later. My head hit the back of the seat as we screeched from our parking spot. Laura took a corner and the seat belt caught me around my gut as I slid. I clenched my stomach hoping to keep dinner where it was, “I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

  Laura indicated the back seat with a tilt of her head, “Just Paul’s laptop.”

  “You jumped with it?”

  She gave me a steady gaze, “Of course. Evidence. I’m a journalist. Remember?”

  “What’s that got to do with being a kick-ass thief,” I muttered.

  There was a presence behind me. I felt it with an assurance that I couldn’t refuse. I spun around to face the backseat. Elliot appeared from thin air. My heart looked for a way to burst out of my chest. Painfully. “Don’t you ever do. That. Again!”

  He looked surprised. “Get you out of trouble?”

  “Come to your rescue?” Laura and Elliot spoke together. I told Laura that Elliot was in the backseat and turned back to face him.

  “No. Don’t ever disappear for days like that, Elliot. Didn’t you think how I would feel when you didn’t answer me? You didn’t even consider how I would feel with you gone. I’m in this thing head deep, just like you. I’ve been worried sick. I’ve been calling you, didn’t you hear me? I need you.”

  The expression on his face shuttered and, to my satisfaction, he managed to look contrite and all burly man at the same time, “I heard you.”

  “Then why didn’t you come?”

  “I thought it was for the best. I thought that being here wasn’t good for you. Your mother is a very persuasive woman.”

  “I’ll be the judge of what I want and do, not my Mum.” My voice was tainted with my anger. “Next time you decide what’s good for me, ask me first, okay?”

  Elliot raised his gaze to mine and I felt it as assuredly as I’d felt his palm on my cheek. His gaze was firm and unwavering and I was swept away with the hope I saw there, “I shall remember that.”

  My anger was sated. For now. I relaxed into the seat, resting my cheek against the head-rest and closed my eyes, “Where did you go?”

  He sunk back, looking as though the life was sucked right out of him. “Back into the grey.”

  My heart ached that he went there again. “You don’t belong in that place, Elliot.”

  “But it’s there all the same and as far as I can tell, there’s no way out. Not one that I found, anyway. I looked for a way. Walked, I don’t know how long or in which direction, but as far as I know I just treaded in mid-space for all I found.”

  I shuddered thinking of him in that empty grey world, alone and lonely and not finding a way out, not knowing what might be waiting for him. And if he did find a way out…then he wouldn’t be here with me. “How did you find me?”

  His eyes rested on mine, a shadow shifted in their depths, “I always see you. Your light. It cuts through the mist. In reality, I was never far away from you.”

  A gentle sigh settled around my heart. The way he looked at me. That indefinable expression told me everything. It was all I could do but stare at him, drink him in so that warmth swirled from my heart lower into my belly.

  I worried my fingers in my lap, letting my gaze slip from his face to my hands. My mind filled with ‘if onlys’ and I fully realised how cruel our situation was. I was falling for a man who was a ghost. I had to stop thinking like that. Had to push it aside. It wasn’t helping me, Elliot or the situation. I needed to refocus on something practical.

  “How did we fall out of that window?”

  “You talking to me?” Laura asked.

  “Both of you. Did you push me?”

  Laura shook her head, “Not me.”

  “Something propelled me through the window. I felt it hit my chest and it shoved me backward, enough to propel me through the window.” I looked at Elliot. “When did you come to me?”

  “I was there when the dog jumped at you. I felt your panic, Cassie. That’s all I needed. And then I was there.”

  “It can’t be a coincidence. You appearing and me being pushed backward. It had to be you.
”

  I remembered the dog turning its head a moment before it jumped at us. Could that be the moment when Elliot appeared in the room? He appeared as solidly to me as any other person and the dog had also seemed to see him as it would a physical person.

  I knew animals and insects could detect different wavelengths of light or sound. What if it detected the same thing as I did when I saw spirits?

  “Lucy’s dog! It saw you too, Elliot!”

  Elliot frowned, “How so?”

  “He looked right at you. He knew you were there because he saw you. Elliot, if there’s ever the proof that you’re real, this is it!”

  “I might be real, but I’m not of this world anymore. I couldn’t have touched you.”

  “I felt you at the window, and again on the ground. I know I did! I felt it, Elliot. I felt you!”

  I pressed on, “Animals have different instinct than humans. They can smell what people can’t. Doesn’t mean the smell isn’t there, it just means we can’t smell it. Insects see a different spectrum of colours. UV colours. They see them and people can’t, but they still exist.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “We know a range of smells that can only be detected with specialist machines. Same as light and sound waves. The machine translates those things and bring in into a form that can be seen and detected. You are made up of light and energy, just as sounds, wavelengths, light is made from forms of energy. What if, when I felt you, you altered your energy enough to bring it into the physical world?”

  “Like focussing energy into one place in one time,” Laura said.