The kids left, and Erica locked the front door and then plopped into the chair in front of the mirror. The kids were doing fantastic, but the stress of pulling this together before the summer ended seemed to be affecting her brain. And with no advertising budget, how would she even get the word out that they’d be performing this grand production? “I’m still not sure this is the way to go.”
The ghost appeared in the mirror. “You can’t back out now, dear, the show is next month.”
Doubt gnawed in her gut. “I know. I’ve sunk my entire savings into this.” And if this show didn’t bring in the kind of revenue Colette swore it would, she’d have to find a real job. Maybe even sell the place.
Colette’s image faded, her form becoming more transparent as she spoke. “If you want to get the return you deserve, you need to make a change to the cast.”
“What kind of change? We only have a month until opening night.”
“Caitlyn should be the lead. She has the look. She has the voice. I’ve kept my mouth shut about you casting your little pet in the star role, but she’s going to ruin the show.”
Erica crossed her arms. With her attitude, Caitlyn was lucky she even got a role. Not that Erica could afford to let any of her students go. Even though the kids had managed to draft a few of their friends to dance in the ensemble, there weren’t enough cast members to do the show justice. “Caitlyn is not playing the lead.”
Colette crossed her arms, mirroring Erica’s posture. “Give me one good reason why not.”
“Attitude.”
“What’s wrong with her attitude?”
“She’s spoiled and entitled, and sometimes downright mean. The lead should go to someone who’s going to work for it. Not to someone who thinks it’s owed to her.”
“She has the guts to go after what should be hers. Caitlyn deserves the lead.”
“Not in my theater.”
“Your theater? I have just as much say as you. You’d still be wasting your money advertising a juvenile show that was sure to flop if it weren’t for me. When I agreed to help you, you promised to follow my advice to the T. You can’t stop now.” The spirit narrowed her eyes as the shimmering mist undulated around her until it almost seemed seep outward from the glass.
Erica rubbed her eyes, and the mist disappeared. Colette was right, she had promised to do everything the ghost told her to. But she drew the line at changing the cast this late into rehearsals, especially since it was Caitlyn she wanted her to promote. “That’s a neat little trick you do when you’re angry, but I’m not afraid of you. You’re trapped inside the mirror, and I’m done doing everyone else’s bidding.”
Aside from the live orchestra, she’d done everything her spirit mentor had advised so far, most of it against her better judgement. Hell, everything she’d done in her life had been for someone else. She’d followed Carter to Hollywood even though she’d been so sick about it she’d stayed up the night before puking her guts out. When she’d finally decided to give up acting and go to college, she’d wanted to become a teacher. Her dad had convinced her to get a degree in technology, saying schools were dangerous and teachers had no potential to earn a decent income. Her stupid graphic arts degree had been a compromise she regretted making. Sure, it allowed her to be a little bit creative, but she couldn’t spend her life trapped inside a cubicle.
Then, three months after she’d moved back to Michigan, she’d taken on the theater and all the debt that came with it because Mrs. Spencer had wanted her to have it. But what about what Erica wanted? It was time she started living life for herself. Doing what she wanted to do. If only she could figure out what that was.
Colette’s lips tightened as she regarded Erica through the glass. “I see how it’s going to be.” The scowl on her face said she wasn’t happy being disobeyed, but honestly, what could she do?
Erica put her hands on her hips. “The cast stays as-is. We’ll put on the show because I’ve sunk my life savings into this, but if it doesn’t at least pay for itself, I’m selling the theater.”
The spirit’s mouth hung open. “And what will you do with me?”
She threw her arms in the air. “You can stay here and bug the next owner. I don’t care.”
“What if they can’t see me?”
“That won’t be my problem.”
Colette’s expression turned steely. “You won’t sell this theater. Julia wanted you to run it.”
Erica squeezed her hands into fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. “Mrs. Spencer is dead, and her spirit has moved on. It doesn’t matter what she wanted.” She stood and picked up her purse. “I didn’t want to run this place to begin with, and at first I didn’t think I could run it without your help. Having you here has been a tremendous blessing, but I’m confident enough to make decisions on my own now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She marched out of the building and locked the front door. Her phone chimed on her way to the car, a message from Gage lighting up the screen: Want to come over? I’ve got something you might want to investigate.
She couldn’t fight her smile as she slid into the driver’s seat. A romp between the sheets with her favorite IT guy would relieve some stress, but her argument with Colette had drained her. It had felt good to stand up for herself, but now she wanted to crash. And she’d already promised her dad she’d stop by his house for dinner.
She replied: I would love to see what comes up during the investigation, but I have to go to my dad’s. Maybe tomorrow?
Her phone buzzed with his response. You could stop by after…
His offer was tempting, but… I’m exhausted. Rain check?
As she buckled her seatbelt, the phone rang. Gage, of course. She pressed the phone to her ear.
“Are you okay?” His voice oozed with concern.
Not really. But she didn’t want to get into the details with him. “I’m fine. Tired. I need a good night’s sleep.” Her conversations with Colette had been getting more heated lately, and every night she seemed more tired than the night before.
“Yeah…I guess you wouldn’t get much sleep if you came to my place.”
She laughed. “Probably not. Why don’t you come over tomorrow around seven-thirty? We can order take-out and see about that investigation.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. If there’s anything I can do for you in the meantime, let me know.”
A warm, tingly sensation spread through her body. Gage would drop everything to come and help her if she needed him. She was a lucky woman. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”
Erica woke the next day more tired than she’d been the night before. After she showered and dressed, she poured a cup of steaming-hot coffee and curled up on the couch with her box of memories.
Her dad had been cleaning out the garage when he’d come across her old keepsake box. He’d given it to her after dinner last night, but she’d been too exhausted to go through it. Now, she rummaged through the remnants of her high school years, tossing aside newspaper clippings, concert tickets, and old playbills from her days in the theater.
She smiled as her fingers brushed an old photograph. Pulling it from the box, she examined the image, running her thumb across the smooth, glossy paper. In the picture, Gage leaned against the stage in the high school auditorium, his lanky arms crossed, a goofy smile lighting up his face. Though his body had changed in the ten years she’d been gone, he still had the same sweet eyes. She sat next him in the photo, leaning an arm on his shoulder as she grinned at the camera.
The picture had been taken senior year, right before the second performance of her final high school show. Gage had asked her to go to dinner afterward, but she’d politely declined, opting to hang out with Carter and his friends instead. Her boyfriend had ignored her the entire night.
Gage wouldn’t have ignored her. Why had it been so hard for her to realize the perfect man was right there all along? At least she’d finally figured it out.
She shuffled to
her closet and rummaged around for the frame she’d gotten at a work Christmas party last year. Glittery red and green ornaments adorned the sides and bottom of the wood, but it would hold a picture, and that was what counted. She slipped the photo inside and set it on a shelf in her living room.
Returning to the box, she dug to the bottom to find a little, silver flash drive. Gage had given it to her shortly before she’d left for California, and it contained a file she’d never been able to open. Maybe he could open it now. Or at least tell her what it was about. She set the drive behind the picture frame and put the box in her closet. She’d have plenty of time to reminisce after the show was over. Right now, she had work to do.
Hoping to avoid another confrontation with the ghost, she opted to spend the day at home, working on her budget and figuring out what the hell she was going to do about her sinking theater.
She could sell the place. She didn’t know the first thing about running a business. Entrepreneurship just wasn’t in her blood.
But she’d promised her students a show, and she planned to follow through. Once it was done, though…well, what would she do? If she sold the theater, she’d have to go back to work. A nauseating sensation churned in her stomach at the thought of spending the rest of her life in a dead-end job like her last one. She needed to be able to move, to express herself, to help people. Designing advertisements didn’t help anyone but the business owners.
Taking on this theater may not have been the best decision she’d ever made, but she would stick with it. Somehow, she would make it work.
She shut down her computer and headed out the door. As soon as she stepped through the threshold, a frigid sensation ripped through her body like shards of ice clawing at her insides. She shivered and turned around to find Sandra standing in the doorway. The ghost had the same sad expression she’d had for weeks, but she gave Erica a curious look.
Erica rubbed her arms to chase away the chill. “Please don’t stand right in front of the door.”
Sandra tilted her head to the side. “She’s getting to you.”
“Who?”
“The other ghost. She’s affecting you.”
She closed and locked the door. “Other than annoying the hell out of me, she can’t do much. She’s trapped behind the glass.”
Sandra shook her head. “She’s inside your mind.”
Colette had been trying to get inside her head. Attempting, through manipulation and guilt trips, to convince her to make decisions she didn’t want to make. But she wasn’t letting the ghost get to her anymore. “I’m fine.” She headed down the stairs.
The spirit followed. “Why can’t I leave here?”
“I’ve told you, I don’t know. Maybe you’re attached to something, like Colette is attached to the mirror. Did you die in this building? Or…” Erica paused. She’d been so wrapped up in her own issues, she hadn’t thought to ask the spirit about herself. “How did you die? I’m sorry I never asked.”
“Breast cancer.” Sandra hovered over the sidewalk, her brow creasing in concentration. “I don’t think I’m attached to anything. I lived in the neighborhood half a mile up the road, and I’ve been wandering since my death…until I felt you.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.” She wished Sandra had felt someone more capable. Erica opened her car door and tossed her purse inside. “If I ever figure out a way, I’ll let you know. I have to go.”
On the drive to the theater, her mind drifted to her conversation with Gage about his psychic friend, Allison. If she really was as gifted as he’d said, maybe she could help Sandra cross over. Maybe she could even free Colette from the mirror…if Erica were willing to admit she’d lied to Gage about the ghost. That was another issue entirely.
She inhaled deeply, waiting for the flush of jealousy to claw its way through her insides, but it didn’t come. Why had it bothered her so much when he’d talked about Allison before? If Gage thought they’d get along, they probably would. Maybe she’d ask him to introduce her to his friends when they got back in town. It might be nice to have another girlfriend to talk to. Especially one that shared her ability to see spirits.
Erica waited outside the theater in her car until the first student arrived. She wasn’t afraid of the ghost in the mirror, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with another argument of who should be lead.
Running the rehearsal her way, she ignored Colette’s image when it appeared in the glass. She walked the stage, putting the actors into their proper positions, choreographing the scene the way she thought it would look best. Then she stood in the wing as they took their places to run through their lines with the new choreography.
“Ms. Miller?” Amber put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Erica blinked. “I’m fine. Go ahead and run the scene.”
“We just did. Twice.” Caitlyn crossed her arms and looked at Jason. “She’s doing it again. I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with her.”
Twice? How had they run the scene twice? She’d walked off stage, turned around, told them to run through the scene, and…what? Where had the time gone? What had she been thinking about? “There’s nothing wrong with me. I want to see the scene again. Places, everyone.”
She ground her teeth, wracking her brain to remember the first two run-throughs. Nothing. She held her eyes wide to make certain to see it this time.
As Amber shuffled toward stage right, Caitlyn stuck her foot out and tripped her, sending Amber stumbling into a chair. Jason caught her by the arm before she could hit the floor.
“Be careful,” Caitlyn said. “I’d hate for you to hurt yourself right before the show.”
“Caitlyn!” Erica marched onto the stage. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Just what you told me to do.”
“What I…I didn’t tell you to trip her!” She rushed to Amber. “Are you okay?”
Amber smoothed her shirt down her stomach. “I’m fine.”
“Take five everyone.” Erica pinned Caitlyn with an angry gaze. “You and I need to talk.” She jerked her head toward the wing and waited for her student to follow her off stage.
The fog in her brain was starting to lift, and she vaguely remembered the first two run-throughs of the scene. Sort of. But she definitely did not tell Caitlyn to trip Amber.
Or did she?
She stepped toward her student and spoke softly, trying to mask her worry with anger. “What exactly did I say that you interpreted to mean you should try to hurt your fellow actor?”
Caitlyn let out an annoyed-teenager sigh. She was good at those. “You told me that if you were me, you’d do whatever it took to get what you wanted.”
She had no memory of saying those words. It sounded like something Colette would say, though. Could Caitlyn see the ghost? No, that was ridiculous. Maybe Erica had told her to do what it takes to get what she wants, but she would never suggest violence. “If I said do ‘whatever it takes,’ I meant work hard. Hurting someone is never the answer.”
“Whatever.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes and returned to the stage.
Erica glanced into the mirror to find Colette smiling smugly. Her stomach sank. Could the spirit be the one responsible for the brain fog and causing her to act in a way she normally wouldn’t?
No, she was trapped inside the mirror. But maybe she could influence the other ghosts to…
She shook her head. This was crazy. Ghosts couldn’t get inside someone’s mind, could they? That kind of thing only happened on television.
Anyway, she had more pressing matters to deal with, like the fifteen teenagers staring at her like she was crazy. She’d have liked to kick Caitlyn out of the show and be done with the silly rivalry all together. But this close to the opening, she’d never find a replacement.
She straightened her spine and raised her voice so everyone could hear. “This is my first and only warning to all of you.” She said it to the group, but she focused on Caitlyn. “If
anything like that happens again, you’ll be out. I will not tolerate violence or nastiness in any form. Are we clear?”
Caitlyn lowered her gaze to the floor. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Now, let’s run the scene again from the top.”
Erica made it through the rest of the rehearsal with a clear mind, but she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that what she was experiencing wasn’t all in her head. She rarely saw Leroy or Stanley anymore, and neither ghost seemed capable nor interested in mind control. That left two options: either Colette was somehow affecting her brain, or she really was going crazy.
Neither option was a good one.
As the students left the theater, she shuffled backstage and approached the mirror. “Colette?”
The spirit image manifested in the glass.
“Were you listening when I told Caitlyn to do whatever it took to get the lead?”
“I was, and I am so proud of you, dear. I knew you’d take my advice. Smart not to just pull Amber for no apparent reason. Now you’ll get none of the blame if her parents get upset.”
“What…” She inhaled deeply. She needed to stay calm. Making accusations would only make things worse. “Did you…you didn’t happen to influence me to say that, did you?”
The ghost laughed. “I’m trapped inside a mirror. How could I have possibly influenced you?”
“Did one of the other ghosts? I don’t remember telling her that. Well, I kinda do, but not clearly. It feels like someone’s messing with my mind.”
Colette cast a sympathetic look. “No one is messing with your mind, dear. I think your subconscious is finally breaking through. You’re doing the things you really want, deep down in your heart.”
“I don’t think I wanted Caitlyn to hurt Amber.” Nor did she want to order the scripts for the show and arrange all these rehearsals when she hadn’t even decided for sure this was the route she wanted to go.
To Free a Phantom (Spirit Chasers Book 3) Page 16
