by Lisa Shea
Marc stilled. It seemed as if that possibility hadn’t occurred to him.
At last he nodded. “All right. You stay with me. But we can’t tell anyone what we suspect. Not even Alex. I know you think it’s unlikely she’s involved –”
I sighed and held up a hand. “I understand. It could be anyone. And even if Alex’s not personally involved, she’s not exactly the most discrete person I’ve ever met. She could accidentally say something to someone and tip the actual killer off. I agree. It’s better that we just keep this between us for now.”
His hands took mine again. He smiled. “Thank you.”
I lifted a brow. “Thank you? For what?”
“For just being you.”
I gave a small laugh. “Well, I could hardly be anyone else, could I?”
His gaze shone, and for a moment I thought I was going to experience another one of those soul-filling, life-changing kisses.
But then he blew out his breath and looked around. “All right. I do think Anna’s disappearance and what happened to my mother are related. So I think a next step would be to get the details of what happened here.”
He pulled out his phone and typed in some letters. “I’ll see if I can get us an appointment with the Salem police chief. She might see me, as a courtesy, since I’m a fellow police officer.”
I yawned.
I put my hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean –”
He shook his head. “We were all supposed to get some sleep. We’re all exhausted. Come on, let’s go downstairs. We can let the others know we haven’t found Anna and that we’re thinking of getting some rest. To tackle this fresh in a few hours.”
I nodded. That made sense. We stepped out of the study and he carefully closed the door behind us. Then we headed down the stairs.
Roger proudly pointed at the pizza box which still held three slices. “We saved you some in case you wanted a piece.”
The room was saturated in garlic. Now I knew what it felt like to live inside a garlic clove.
Alex’s face held curiosity. “Find anything interesting up there? Did Anna curl up to sleep in a jar or something? I don’t know how spirits rest. Maybe in a bottle like Jeanie?”
Marc shook his head. His calm face gave nothing away. “No, we didn’t sense anything about Anna. It could be she just got emotional with everything that’s going on. Maybe she went into the garden to rest.”
“Meditation patio,” corrected Anna. “I just need to wait for a few more shipments to arrive from Bryane before I can set it set up.”
I yawned again, wider this time.
Marc patted my arm. “In any case, I’m going to take Amber back home again, so she can get some sleep. I’m sure when we all look at this fresh in the evening that we’ll figure it out. It’ll all make sense then.”
Roger’s eyes lit up, and he reached for another slice of pizza. “Well, if you don’t want this after all –”
Marc waved a hand. “It’s all yours.”
Roger looked as if he’d been given a second cherry on his hot fudge sundae.
Marc smiled at his sister. “So I’m sure we’ll see you later on –”
My phone rang.
I glanced at the screen as I brought it up. It was Prudence. I answered, saying “Hey there, what’s up?”
Her voice filled my ear, frantic and upset. “It’s Sarah! She’s gone!”
Chapter Twenty
The phone nearly fell from my hand. I couldn’t take it in. I couldn’t make sense of it. This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream, a chaotic, nonsensical, delusional –
Marc gently lifted the phone from my hand and put it to his ear. “Marc here. Tell me exactly what happened. Step by step.”
I could only hear murmuring from the other side – apparently Prudence was calmed by Marc’s tone of voice and was reciting out the details. He nodded and made non-committal sounds, encouraging her to keep going.
At last he said, “You two stay put. Keep pencil and paper near you in case she returns. You are her safe space – the one place she knows. You want to be there as a beacon for her, to guide her home. All right?”
He listened for another moment. Then said, “Yes, of course. The very moment we figure something out, we’ll let you know. Call us if she comes home.”
A moment. “You too.” Then he hung up and handed me back my phone.
My hand was shaking as I took it.
Alex blinked in surprise. “What is this? Something happened to Sarah? Is she hurt?”
Marc waved a hand. “No, no, we don’t think so. We think Sarah overheard that we were concerned about Anna. Sarah left a note for Prudence and Gertie, letting them know that she was coming to help.”
Alex nervously looked around the room. “Wait, there’s another ghost coming here? When?”
Roger was stuffing the last piece of pizza in his mouth. “How does she even know how to get here?”
Marc’s gaze took on a hint of a shine. “Apparently Cassandra’s browser window had been left open. Sarah figured out a route with Google Maps. She learns quickly.”
Roger shrugged, taking down a swig of Coke. “All right, so we just wait here for her and then you take her right back home again.”
I looked to Marc in concern. “She could get lost. I don’t think she’s been out of that house in, what, three hundred years?”
He nodded. “Roger, Alex, would you two be all right staying here? Just in case she does arrive. Have notepads and pencils out so she can write you a message. Make a sign saying you’re friends of Anna’s, or something like that. So she knows she can trust you.”
Alex saluted him. “Sure thing. We’ll give you a call if she shows up.”
Marc turned to me. “You up for some ghost hunting?”
I nodded, fighting off my exhaustion with determination.
“Absolutely.”
* * *
We stepped to the front porch. I reached for my phone and brought up Google Maps.
I pushed the buttons. “We might as well see what route she is most likely to take. It’s only a mile between the two houses, but that’s a lot of ground to cover on foot.”
“Would you rather drive?”
I shook my head. “She’s small. It’d be easy to miss her. It’s better if we go slowly ourselves. She could have sat down on a step to rest or something.”
He nodded.
We headed out.
We walked slowly, mindfully, taking in every stoop and side path. Sarah was translucent and in this bright sunlight she could be easy to miss.
Marc’s hand brushed against mine, and I twined my fingers into his.
Ease coursed through me.
We’d figure it out.
Whatever challenges we faced, whatever hurdles arose, we’d tackle them. There was just a sense of rightness about him. Of sturdy steadiness.
The houses were quiet and staid. They were wood structures in muted colors – gray, beige, sand. Occasionally a brick house intermingled with the rest. The homes were generally two stories with rectangular fronts. Some windows had decorative shutters while others were simple in design. Sometimes there were window boxes cascading with flowers. Other homes had wreaths of herbs on their front doors.
We walked on, hand in hand, our gazes searching … searching …
At last we reached the stately McGillicuddy home with its white fence and its blossoms of flowers. Tunic Lady was sprawled on the front porch bench in an outfit of pale lavender which brought out the porcelain nature of her oval face. She rose in a waft when she saw Marc. Her eyes flickered to our joined hands and a frisson of annoyance sparked in her gaze, quickly replaced by determination.
I had a feeling that she saw me as a mere minor obstacle to be overcome.
She arranged herself coyly by the front pillar, admiring Marc as he strode up the walk. “I just knew our paths would cross again,” she cooed at him. “So lovely to see you again, Marc. You know, I realized that I never gave you my card. So
you could email me. Facebook me. Instagram me.”
She slipped a hand toward her chest and drew a card out from where it had been tucked against her bosom.
It took all my strength to hold in the snort of disbelief.
Marc took it from her. I could see that it was matte black with gold writing on it. At the top center was a large Eye of Horus. The Egyptian symbol showed a single right eye with a a browline above, a single tear descending, and then a line trailing away from the tear, ending in a curl.
Beneath it was her name, Dalilah Kattan, along with her phone number, email address, and every other form of contact known to modern life.
She put her hand over his, pressing the card into his palm. She whispered, throatily, “Any time. Day or night.”
The door pulled open, and Prudence hurried out. “Thank God you’re here. Have you found her?”
Dalilah perked up. “Found who? Can I help?”
Prudence ignored her and pulled us in. Another moment and we were ensconced in the library.
Gertie was beside herself. She took another shaky drink of tea. “I hate just waiting here. But you’re right. It could be she senses our presence and we’re like a beacon drawing her home. Cassandra’s out on the streets with a pad of paper and pencil, calling for her. She figures she might not be able to see Sarah, but maybe Sarah will see her and be able to go to her. In case she’s lost.”
She gulped. “But what if Sarah’s hurt? Or what if getting further from her home is making her fade away? What if she’s alone, and desperate …”
I went to her and wrapped her hands in mine. “We’ll find her. Don’t you worry. Look, Alex and Roger are hunkered down at their end. You and Prudence are waiting here. Now it’s just up to me, Marc, and Cassandra to cover the spaces in between. She’s got to be somewhere. We’ll find her.”
Gertie looked up at me. “And what of Sarah’s sister? Anna? Is she still missing?”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “She’s probably just asleep. Anna was mostly active at night. Let’s just take it one step at a time. Right now we’ll find Sarah. And we’ll go from there. All right?”
She nodded.
Prudence moved to sit alongside Gertie and take her hand. She looked up at me. “You two go along. Keep looking for Sarah. We’ll be fine, holding down the fort. We see anything, we’ll let you know.”
I patted my purse. “Will do. Have faith. We’ll figure this out.”
Marc and I stepped out of the room. Another moment and we were on the front porch again.
Dalilah was waiting for us, her lean body lounging against the front pillar as if she were a fashion model on a tropical photo shoot. “There you are, Marc. Has someone lost a cat? I’m amazing with animals, you know. Got a sixth sense about them. I’m sure I can lend a hand. Just let me know how I can help.”
Marc nodded to her. “Just knowing that you are here for Gertie and Prudence, able to help them should they need it, is reassuring to me. I’m sure they treasure your presence.”
Her gaze went smoky. “I could help you to treasure my presence,” she murmured.
“Perhaps later,” he said. “We have to get going. But I have your card.” He tapped his hip pocket.
Her eyes went to his hip, and a shine entered them.
I strode down the steps, and in a moment Marc was at my side, walking through the white gate to the street.
He pointed. “Let’s assume she began on the correct path and then got lost. She doesn’t have a smartphone, after all. So we’ll start in this direction.”
I followed at his side, tension rising within me. Who did Dalilah think she was? Her and her stupid black card with the stupid Wadjet on it and her phone number. Any time day or night. Maybe she thought she was going to test out some tantric love positions in some stupid slinky lingerie tunic and that Marc would –
Marc stopped and turned me toward him.
I blinked in surprise.
The corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re jealous.”
My arms crossed before my breast. “Am not.”
He tilted his head and held my gaze.
My fingers clenched. “She’s a snake! She’s a reptile! And you’re just egging her on!”
His eyes shimmered with mirth. “And how am I doing that?”
I waved my hands. “By … by … by being you! By looking the way you do!”
An eyebrow went up. “And you rather I instead were …”
I realized how silly I was sounding. In the beginning I’d thought he was married, and was upset he was cheating on his wife. Now that I knew he was single, I was upset he might be interested in a woman other than me.
I had to admit it.
I was jealous.
He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re jealous. It means you care.”
The words shot out of me before I gave it thought. “Of course I care! You’re –”
A hot flush coursed through me. What had I been about to say?
That he was everything I’d ever dreamed of? My soulmate? My other half?
His look gentled, and he took my hand in his. His fingers were warm and solid.
He gave my fingers a tender squeeze. His gaze held mine.
He knew.
A glow spread through me, filling me, lifting me, expanding me –
Desperate sadness.
I felt it as a deep blue tendril snaking into my golden glow. I turned toward it.
It was heading down a quiet street to our right.
Marc murmured, “Amber, what is it?”
I shook my head, not wanting to lose the sensation. It was as if one colored twist of smoke were rising from a quiet bed of coals. It could easily get lost again with one lift of breeze.
I honed in on it. Nothing else mattered. Marc guided me along the sidewalk, around gaps in the stone or ornamental trees. I kept a hold of that tendril. Drew it in, turned a corner –
There. She was sitting on a low stoop, knees pulled to her chest, tears flowing down her face.
I ran to her, stumbled to my knees before her, and pulled her in. It was like grabbing at smoke, but somehow she came, pressing against me with a substance I could almost feel. She cried for real then, heart-wrenching sobs which shook her thin frame.
Marc came up behind us, standing alongside me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder.
Time hung.
I heard a mother and child approaching. The child asked in curiosity, “Momma, what is that lady doing?”
Marc murmured, “When she was young, she lost her favorite cat here. She’s sad about the memory.”
She girl solemnly nodded and took her mother’s hand. The two moved on.
At last Sarah’s angst eased and she stood. I remained on a knee so I could be at her level. “Oh, Sarah, this must all be very hard on you.”
She wiped at her face. “I’d been so looking forward to seeing Anna again. After all these years! And then to hear she was lost? I couldn’t just stay still. I had to come and help.”
She scuffed at the ground. “But I didn’t realize there were so many houses and so many turns. I got lost along the way and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t find my way forward or back.”
I smiled at her. “All right. Well, let’s get you back home again. That way you’re safe while we figure out what happened to Anna.”
She crossed her arms before her chest. “No. I’m coming with you.”
I glanced at Marc. “Sarah, it’s not safe. We don’t know what’s going on here.”
“Exactly,” she countered. “And you’re not spirits. But I am. So maybe it’s something that I can see, that you can’t.”
Marc said, “She’s got a point.”
I rounded on him. “What? You can’t be serious! She’s a little girl!”
Sarah laughed.
It was a bright, lively sound, as if all the tension and worry she’d built up finally found its release. As if she were shaking away the concern which had coiled around her.
&n
bsp; At last she looked between us. “How old are you two? Barely infants. I’ve been in Salem for over three hundred years. I’m the adult in the room.”
She grinned. “And, besides, what are you going to do? It’s not like you can grab a hold of me and drag me back. I’m a spirit, remember? I can go wherever I want, whether you want me to or not.”
I gave a small chuckle and looked at Marc. “I guess she has a point there.”
“Several points,” he agreed.
I looked down at her. “All right then, you can come with us. But stay close. We don’t want you getting lost again. And if you see something, you let us know. That way we can decide, together, how to tackle it.”
She nodded her small head. “Agreed.”
She put her hand out toward us.
I put my hand on top of hers. I could almost feel the warmth of it. And then Marc’s hand was on mine. That definitely was warm, and steady, and protective –
His phone buzzed.
He pulled it out and glanced at it. “Turns out the Captain is available to see me.” He looked between us. “To see us.”
Sarah’s gaze creased in confusion. “Captain? Why do we need a sailing ship?”
Marc smiled at her. “Come on. We have a lot to catch you up on, along the way.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The Salem police department fully embraced the paranormal atmosphere of its charge. Their badge had “The Witch City” over the top of it, and the logo was a silhouette of a pointy-hatted woman riding on a broomstick.
I smiled.
The Wiccans I knew were divided on the use of that symbol. Half felt it was derogatory, playing into a Wizard-of-Oz stereotype of witches being evil old hags with warts who cackled while mixing up poisons. The other half took it in stride, accepting that this presentation was widely known and understood, and provided a starting point for meaningful discussion.
I leaned toward the latter.
Sarah stayed close behind us, wide-eyed, taking in everything at once. I had to remind myself that, while she’d been around for three hundred years, until recently her entire world had been one library. She had a lot of the modern world to learn about.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down. “All right, everyone now knows that Sarah is somewhere safe. Are you sure it’s best not to tell anyone she’s with us?”
