Touch of Light: A Baylee Scott Paranormal Mystery (The Reed Hollow Chronicles Book 1)

by April Aasheim

  “They may not want to dive in an area where people have disappeared.”

  “First off, we won’t tell them about the disappearances. Second, these old divers would brave The Bermuda Triangle if they thought treasure was involved.”

  “So, you’re going to lie to them?”

  He shrugged. “Who are we to know whether or not there’s treasure at the bottom of Ogie?”

  I watched as Dave redirected his online search, for “strange lights” and “Bog Hollow.” There were no news articles, but Dave found an Instagram photo posted by a tourist. The caption read “Creepiest Christmas Lights Ever.” The accompanying photo depicted several amber lights hovering over a black lake. The trees along the shoreline were bare and laced in white, and in the top corner was a segment of moon. Though it wasn’t fully framed, it appeared full.

  “What more do you know about Ella?” he asked, typing entries into his search bar. A headline from a Reed Hollow Sun article, dated last spring, read: Local Woman Brings Glamour to Town with New Tea House. The photo underneath was of Ella. She looked no more frightening than a fairy godmother.

  “Can you enlarge that?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  In the larger photo, I could clearly make out the moonstone ring on her finger, a ring she wasn’t wearing during our last encounters.

  Dave and I exchanged glances. ““I knew she was involved!” he said.

  “Well, she was looking for her lost rings,” I said. “Maybe the one I’m wearing now is the one she lost. Or maybe it’s all coincidence?”

  “Didn’t you used to say there were no coincidences, Baylee?”

  “I used to.” But that was years ago, back when I believed in destiny, and that every “coincidence” led us closer to our own. “Dave, would you like to take a peek at Ella’s house with me?”

  “Now?” He put his laptop away. “Hell, yeah.” Dave put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.

  “I need to change first, but I won’t get past Alex looking like this,” I said.

  Or Mother.

  “We’ll stop by my house,” he said, rolling up his window. It had started to rain. “I’ll grab you a t-shirt and sweatpants, though we may need to pin them on you.”

  “Dave!” I interrupted. “Stop!”

  The headlights illuminated a form emerging from the trees.

  A young woman in a filmy white dress floated out before us. She stopped in the road as Dave slammed on his breaks. She turned towards me, her eyes round and unblinking. There was sadness in them, a look of resignation and acceptance, like a soldier given an impossible order.

  She grabbed the hood, staring me down, before darting away.

  Blood pumped in my ears as time slowed down. I opened the door and scrambled out, chasing the young woman, calling her by name. “Carrie! Carrie, it’s me!”

  My old friend disappeared into the dense trees, never looking back. I was about to run after, when Dave caught up, grabbing me by the wrist.

  “Baylee! What are you doing?”

  I clutched my chest, my breath shocked out of me. “Did you see her? Please tell me you saw her.”

  “That was a deer. It ran into the woods.”

  “No, Dave. I just saw the ghost of Carrie Brighton.”

  SIXTEEN

  I stood at the edge of the forest, Dave’s hand on my shoulder. “Carrie?”

  I called out for her ghost.

  “Carrie!”

  My cries were lost in the sound of drumming raindrops.

  Eventually, I allowed Dave to steer me back to the truck.

  “The rain distorted your vision, Bay. Ghosts aren’t real,” he said. “And you know I’m a pretty open-minded guy. Trust me, if they were, my dad would be haunting me all the time.”

  “Yes, Dave, they are,” I said.

  He was about to debate me on this, but let it go. Of course, I had Mother following my every move. He didn’t have that level of proof.

  “It was Carrie,” I said aloud, to convince myself as much as him. “At least, it was Carrie when we were fourteen or fifteen. By why would she appear to be that age?”

  “You said you saw her as a teenager in your vision, too, right? Wasn’t she around that age the last time you saw her in real life? If this is a real spirit, maybe she wants to appear to you as you remembered.”

  I climbed inside the cab and buckled myself in, replaying the event as Dave drove us in to town. Carrie had appeared to me as a teenager, not far from where she had supposedly disappeared. Was she trying to give me a message or clue?

  “I should have followed her,” I said, knowing it was too late now. “She was leading me into the woods to show me something, and I should have followed.”

  Dave strummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “Aren’t there bad spirits in the world? Pretending to be good ones?”

  “Yes. Just like living people.”

  “What if she was one of those? What if some dark spirit was trying to lure you away by looking like your old friend?”

  “Well then, it certainly went to a lot of trouble and I should be flattered.”

  He laughed. “There I go again. I promise, I’m not completely cynical. I’m just far more cautious than I used to be.”

  “Growing up will do that to a person.” I tilted my head, wondering about Dave’s missing years. I didn’t probe, as I suspected I didn’t really want to know. Not yet, anyway.

  “Carrie lived near here,” he said, turning down a side road just shy of town.

  “Wow, good memory. I’d almost forgotten where her grandfather’s house was myself.”

  “Well, – uh –her and I had a couple of dates. A few, actually.”

  “What?”

  “It was soon after she came back to town. You were already married to that guy.”

  “Ryan?”

  “Is that his name? Anyway, Carrie returned to care for her sick mother. She never talked about where she’d been, other than to say that she had stayed with a relation in a nearby town. We had pie together a couple times. Between work and caregiving, she didn’t have much free time.”

  “I see. What kind of pie?”

  “Apple! Not banana cream, I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dave and I had shared banana cream pie on many late nights. Those nights often led to early mornings. The thought of him and Carrie…

  I shut down the image. It was none of my business.

  “I was lonely,” he said, as our lights cut a trail through the dense fog. “And she was sweet. We talked about you a lot, if that makes things any better.”

  I stared out my window, feeling my world unravel as he spoke of their reunion. With every new detail, my body stiffened and my stomach tightened.

  “How long?” I finally nerved myself to ask.

  “Like I said, it was only a couple dates. Three. Four. Maybe five. Tops.”

  “Indeed.” I rolled down the window, ignoring the pelting rain that struck my face.

  “Six at the absolute most.”

  “Six!? You must have liked her. A lot.”

  I knew Dave. He didn’t waste time on things he didn’t like.

  “They were just dates, Baylee. People have them all the time. Especially newly dumped single people.”

  “Oh.” Now I felt ridiculous. And guilty. I kept forgetting that I wasn’t the only one who had lost someone.

  “Baylee? Is that a tear? I’ve never seen you cry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I promise.”

  I touched my eyes. It was rain. “I’m fine. But I need to know what happened to Carrie, for my own atonement. Even if it means hearing stories I don’t like.”

  “Okay, let’s see… remember her mother? That woman did everything she could to control Carrie, even as an adult. She never let Carrie out of her sight and lectured her on purity every chance she got. Carrie had to sneak away just to come have pie.

  I’m not sure what kind of hold she had on Carrie, but it was a big
one. I couldn’t deal with her crazy mother, and Carrie had no intention of leaving her side.”

  “You endured my family well,” I said.

  “Your family is a different kind of crazy. The fun kind.” He smiled, then coughed into the crook of his arm. “Besides, the situation was much different. I loved you, Baylee. Carrie and I only shared apple pie.”

  “Was it a la mode?” I asked.

  “Sometimes.”

  He grinned, and instantly the mood lightened. I tried to slug him playfully on the arm, but missed, which made his smile bigger.

  “We’ve never done pie a la mode,” I said.

  “We’ve never done a lot of things,” he countered. “But the things we did do were pretty darned good.”

  We pulled into my driveway and I realized I was disappointed that he’d brought me home.

  “I thought we were going to your place to get me a change of clothes,” I said.

  “I think we’ve had all the adventure our hearts can handle tonight,” he said. “Unless you’re up for a little a la mode action?”

  Alex’s head appeared in one of the upper windows. Seeing me, he hastily closed the curtain.

  “I better get inside. My brother gets his underwear in a bunch when he’s worried.”

  “He needs more flexible undies, then.”

  “Indeed.” The rain had lessened to a mist and I felt Dave studying me in the moonlight. He was so handsome – even more than I remembered.

  He leaned in. So did I.

  “Baylee…” he whispered. He smelled like marshmallows and campfires.

  I edged closer…

  Time since my last kiss: two years, ten months, four days.

  I reached for my wedding ring.

  Now’s your chance, Ryan. If your spirit is restless, or if you object, now is the time to give me a sign.

  But the ring was as silent as ever.

  I felt Dave’s warm breath on my neck as he slipped his hands around my waist. He breathed in, and I breathed out. The world fell away - Alex, Mother, even Carrie.

  My entire awareness was on his fingers, now sliding up my back. And then on his lips, moistened by the rain. A flood of memories surged through me, all of them good.

  Dave’s hands made their way to my shoulders. I shivered in response. He traced my ear with the side of his finger.

  “I’ve missed you, Baylee,” he whispered, softly lifting my chin. “I’ve missed you more than you could ever imagine.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  As his hands cupped my face, I surrendered to my feelings for Dave Cullins.

  Two years, ten months, and four days was a long time.

  Onward and upward. There was no other direction to move.

  And then came the sign, though it was not from Ryan.

  A strip of gauzy white cloth clung to the hood ornament, so small I hadn’t noticed it before.

  A piece of the specter’s dress.

  SEVENTEEN

  I didn’t tell Dave about the remnant of Carrie’s dress.

  Instead, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, hopped from the truck, and discreetly pulled it off on my way up to the porch. As I anticipated, the cloth oozed energy. A dark, jealous energy.

  But why?

  Had Carrie’s ghost really been trying to lure me into the woods, as Dave suggested?

  I had been out with someone she had once dated.

  Perhaps her spirit had lingering feelings for Dave?

  But she hadn’t loved him. She couldn’t.

  I tucked the cloth into my purse for further study, then pounded on the front door. It was well past midnight and I wanted my bed. When Alex didn’t answer, I texted him on my phone.

  Of course, I wasn’t in love with Dave either… and yet I’d still felt the sting of jealousy as he recounted his dates with Carrie. It was an unfamiliar emotion and it made me uncomfortable – a gateway emotion that could lead to all sorts of other unpleasant feelings.

  I sniffed once, then banged on the door twice.

  If I gave in to one base emotion, surely I’d succumb to them all. I’d always prided myself on never crying. Even when Ryan disappeared.

  I’d seen what heavy emotions did to people - it weakened them, lessening their ability to overcome life’s obstacles.

  Logic, reason, and a touch of faith. Those are the traits that propel you forward. Not grief, and certainly not jealousy.

  When Alex still didn’t appear, I looked for the spare key. I found it taped to the bottom of our mailbox. It must have been there since before my parents passed.

  The door opened easily and I crept inside, stepping lightly as I worked my way up the creaky stairs. I found myself looking over my shoulder for Mother, feeling like a teenager again. Only this time, she really could appear out of nowhere.

  I made it to my bedroom undiscovered. After removing the foul-smelling overcoat, I slipped under my bed covers, promising myself a hot bath in the morning. For now, all I wanted was sleep.

  I tucked the dress fabric beneath my pillow, wondering if it was worth the risk - an object’s vibrations often sparked vivid and disturbing dreams, but those same dreams could also unlock its secrets. If this really had belonged to Carrie, I needed know.

  Once I shut my eyes, every event of the last few days unfolded in my mind. Though exhausted, I knew it would be hours before sleep would come.

  I glanced at the two bottles on my nightstand.

  I didn’t want to become dependent on them.

  But when secrets and worry both conspire to keep you awake, what choice do you have?

  The next morning, I woke up to the sound of thundering cats. Literally.

  Kela’s clear voice sang from the attic above, “Thundering cats, blundering cats, we’ll follow you wherever you roam; Thundering cats, wondering cats, Mr. B why did you go?”

  A steady drumbeat kept time.

  I rubbed my eyes, slipped on my robe, and stormed up to the attic. Kela and her best friend Alyssa had set up a makeshift recording studio. Alyssa played bongo drums while Kela sang into a microphone.

  “I don’t recall giving you permission to start a band up here,” I said, my temples throbbing. “It’s too early.”

  “Auntie Viv gave us permission,” Kela explained, setting down her microphone and turning off the speakers. “I consulted her through a Ouija board when I realized you weren’t getting up before noon today.”

  “Noon?”

  Alyssa nodded, showing me her digital watch. Sure enough, it was nearly one.

  “Can you practice somewhere else?” I asked. “I had a tough night and I haven’t had my coffee.”

  Kela looked me over. “You don’t smell very good. Are you sick?”

  “I’m not sick. And why are you suddenly a singer?”

  “She’s always been a singer,” Alyssa said, her light green eyes a pretty contrast to her strawberry hair. “She just chose to unleash it today.”

  “We just need one more hour of studio time,” Kela said, picking the mic back up. “We’re rehearsing for the Come Home Mr. B benefit tonight.”

  “Mr. Bites never came home?” I asked.

  “We think he was stolen again,” Kela said. She marched to the small attic window that overlooked the neighboring Bend and Break. “She can’t hide him forever.”

  Alyssa picked up a manila envelope and reached inside. Handing me a stack of paper, she said, “Do you mind passing around some of these fliers if you go out today? I hope it’s okay that we put your number on it. Kela lost her phone.”

  I read the flier.

  Please Attend the ‘Come Home Mr. B Benefit’ Tonight at Crystal Park.

  Music. Dancing. Cat Theft Awareness Workshops.

  $5.00 Suggested Donation. All proceeds go towards finding Mr. B.

  Stay Feral. Stay True.

  Beneath it were three artistic renderings of Mr. Bites, in various stages of fur, claws, and teeth.

  “I drew these all from memory,” Alyssa
said, tapping one of the sketches of the snarling cat. “Isn’t he a sweetie?”

  “He is something,” I agreed.

  Alyssa’s eyes moistened and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a long hug. “I knew you’d get it. We are kindred spirits, Baylee.”

  “Thank you, Alyssa,” I said, gently prying myself from her arms. Though her energy was kind, it was tinged with a lingering sadness and I wasn’t prepared to probe those depths.

  Not until I was more awake.

  Alex appeared shortly thereafter, bowing in the doorway. He read my mind, or perhaps the expression on my face. “Your Majesty’s coffee is sitting on the counter downstairs. And it’s only been warmed over thrice.”

  His eyes lit up when he noticed the fliers in my hand.

  “Wow! Alyssa, you really captured him! Restless, wild, a beast that won’t be caged. Not then and not ever. If I have to search every house in Reed Hollow, I’ll find him.”

  “Should I start saving for your bail now, then?” I asked.

  My brother grinned. “Right is right, Baylee. Now come downstairs.”

  I followed Alex to the solarium, grabbing my coffee from the counter on the way. There was one very old woman sitting alone in a corner, continually tapping the rim of her cup with her silver spoon. Otherwise, the place was once again empty.

  Alex led me to a small table near a large window. I slid into my seat and he sat down opposite me, handing over two Splenda packets. “You were out late. I was worried.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  He lowered his gaze to the moonstone ring, now exposed on my bare hand.

  “That’s the ring Ella was looking for, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Great. Just what we need. Witch trouble.”

  “If I remember correctly, you didn’t want to give her the rings back in the first place.”

  “But I don’t want to piss her off, either. Not after we found out that she casts spells and stuff.”

  “Let’s not lecture each other on trouble. I’ll win.” I poured the sweetener into my coffee and stirred. “Besides, I can’t take it off.”