by Cady Vance
“Skip the sailboat lessons.”
Laura snorted, animation lighting up her features for the first time since I’d stopped by to see what had given her voice such a sharp edge on the phone. “Dad would kill me.”
Couldn’t argue with that. Laura’s dad had bought her a sailboat for her sixteenth birthday on the condition she’d spend Saturday mornings learning how to guide it through the ocean. Some kids get used cars when they reach legal driving age. Not Laura.
“Then, what’s up?” I asked.
Laura held up a newspaper and pushed it into my hands. Her finger shook as she pointed to an article on the bottom half of the front page. The headline read, “Unexplained Death Rocks Small Town.”
“What’s this?” I asked, shifting the newspaper into the sunlight.
“Read the article,” she said. Her eyes were wide and full of the same fear I’d seen when we were escaping from the two shamans. I scanned the article quickly while Laura lugged a water cooler into her boat.
Police in Seaport, Massachusetts are investigating the unexplained death of Jonathan Collier, 49, who died at approximately 2:30 a.m. Friday morning. His wife reported her husband had been sleeping poorly and having fits of anxiety before collapsing this morning. His heart stopped shortly after. No signs of a heart attack have been found, but police do not suspect foul play.
The body was turned over to the Seaport County Medical Examiner’s office where an autopsy will be performed.
In what appears to be an unrelated crime, the Collier home was burglarized while Mrs. Collier was at the hospital. Several high-priced heirlooms were found missing.
Citizens of the town of Seaport are shocked by the sudden death of such a prominent figure. Mr. Collier was on the County Commissioner board and active in various schooner and golfing communities in the area. Funeral services will be held at Seaport Memorial at 2 p.m. on Sunday, September 22.
There was a small, grainy photo next to the article. Even though Mr. Collier was apparently prominent, I didn’t know him. I squinted, looked closer and sucked in a sharp breath that whistled through my teeth. It was the man from the BMW who had acted like he’d wanted to talk to me. I’d thought he just wanted to be nosy, but what if…
The world tipped to one side, and I found myself plopping hard on the bench behind me. The white-crested waves rushing against Laura’s boat blurred my vision. The crash filled my ears, and the back of my throat closed in tight, almost like I was getting seasick even though I was firmly on land with both feet pressed onto the wooden planks. I could see nothing but wavy darkness through the thin cracks between.
I looked up at Laura, who had paused in her boat prep and was now watching me under the flapping sail. The wind whipped at her ponytail, reminding me of the banishment at Brent’s house in those moments before we’d been kidnapped by the shamans. My mouth felt desert-dry, and the reality of the situation roared around me like angry waves, as if I were caught in a storm-filled sea. The water batted my body so hard I couldn’t swim away.
Even though my mind spun over all the possibilities, I could come to only one conclusion. Mr. Collier had been attacked by spirits.
Not only did he have a sudden unexplained death, he’d been having panic attacks and sleeping problems. And he’d wanted to talk to me. He must have heard about me somehow, the Queen of Weird. He hadn’t wanted to lob questions at me. He’d wanted me to help him.
If I’d helped him, he’d still be alive. If I hadn’t brushed him off, he’d still be breathing.
My fingers dug into my palms as I fought the guilt clutching my heart. I blinked. I couldn’t let myself cry even though my eyes itched with the threat of tears. There was no way I could have known, and I couldn’t let my mind go down that path. But it was the truth. If I looked at all the pieces of this puzzle, it meant I’d had a hand in his death. And if I didn’t help Megan or Jason or Kylie’s family friend, they’d be in their own coffin before I could take my next breath.
***
Everything was spinning more and more out of control. As I made the familiar drive to the local magic shop, I tried to work out if I was right about Mr. Collier. The wheels of my brain spun right along with my truck’s tires. I stared out my rolled-down window, breathed in the salty ocean air. Old Mr. Percy waved from the front door of his used bookshop where he was sweeping dust onto the wooden-planked sidewalk. Next door, kids were lining up at the homemade frozen yogurt stand, even with the temperature barely pushing sixty degrees.
When I parked in one of the magic shop’s parking spots, I stared at the newspaper for long, silent moments. Trying to find some evidence in the article that I’d read things wrong. Looking for anything, any sign at all that I could be wrong.
I didn’t find anything.
The local magic shop was another one of the constant fixtures of Seaport. It had been there since the moment we’d moved into town, and the cash register was manned, day after day, by Wanda, whose orange-red hair never changed except for when it brightened after each dye job.
“Hey, Wanda.” The door jingled a new-age-y tone when I swung it open to reveal rows of dusty wooden shelves. They crouched amidst a fog of sweet incense, the burning amber scent swirling with Wanda’s musky patchouli.
“Holly.” She nodded. “Here for some more candles and herbs I’m guessing. Why don’t you pick up something different for a change? I have a nice book on Dark Magicks over there in the back corner.”
After getting my last two black candles stolen by those damn shamans, I was here to stock up on supplies (Wanda’s homemade candles were far superior to the ones I could find at the supermarket). With my limited spending fund, I certainly wouldn’t binge on Dark Magick books even though I was curious about the contents of those pages, wondering if the spells at all resembled my shaman magic.
“No thanks, Wanda,” I said, moving past the smoke-shrouded front check-out and to the back wall where the candles sat waiting to be chosen. “Maybe next time.”
As I was dropping a particularly unique candle into a hemp-weaved shopping basket, Jason Harris sidled up in his signature black ensemble and leaned against a bookshelf of thick volumes that claimed to restore a youthful complexion. His signature floppy hair shielded his eyes like a mop, and he gave me a lopsided grin.
“How is our resident ghost expert these days?” He twirled a long strand of purple beads hanging by the bookshelf and picked up a book that looked like it had seen the bottom of too many trash cans.
I dropped another candle into my basket. “She’s in a hurry to get her candle shopping done.”
“Busy solving crime and saving the day?” He poked his elbow into my side and followed me down the line of candles. My eyes discovered a green one (for healing) that matched the color of Nathan’s eyes. Maybe we should change that. I tossed it into the basket.
“Something like that,” I said. “And how are things in your corner of the world? Still breaking the hearts of your fellow drama nerds?”
“Nah,” he said. “One of my improv partners dumped me for a change. Seems she heard about my reputation and decided to get a jump-start.”
“Told you it would catch up to you one of these days,” I said with a laugh, knowing if he were really upset, he wouldn’t be joking around.
“Speaking of catching up,” he said, “how about we catch up later today? If you can make some time in your busy crime-stopping schedule.”
I stopped scanning the candles and turned to face him. “You need something, and I bet I know what it is. My spidey senses are tingling.” But it was more that my heartbeat had just sped up as if Venom were chasing me. We’d been joking around like we always did, but we both knew why he was here. The smile slid from my face as if dumbbells pulled at each corner of my lips.
He tapped the disappearing dimple on my cheek. “You know me too well.”
If anyone else had done that, I would have hated it and probably would have pushed their hand away, but he could get away with that kind
of thing with me. After all, he was the guy who had stopped me from rolling around in a poison ivy patch when we were ten years old.
“We’ve got some ghosts in our house,” he said, the sparkle in his eyes disappearing as his forehead crinkled. “Of the nasty variety.”
“Yeah, Nathan Whitman told me you might have a problem.” I shifted the basket in my hands, glancing over my shoulder at the eyebrow-pierced owner, hoping we weren’t being overheard.
“No, Nathan Whitman told me that you were with him when he saw the guys break in. And he seemed to think it was related.”
I coughed and glanced toward the safety of the front door leading outside, to my truck where I wouldn’t have to answer questions about hanging out with Nathan Whitman.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, placing a hand over his heart. “You aren’t going to leave me, too, are you? Is this the reason I haven’t seen you around in awhile?”
“Don’t be silly.” I started moving down the aisles again. I passed a shelf full of dragon figurines and wondered if I could find a book in here that would instruct me on how to conjure one. Siccing a dragon on the shamans would definitely be one way to put an end to things.
“I think it’s great he finally got up the nerve to start hanging with you,” Jason said, catching up to me.
“What?” I jerked to a halt and stared at him. All the blood rushed to my head. Jason didn’t answer. His eyes were squinted into skinny ovals, the way they did when he was terribly amused by something but didn’t want to share why.
“Nothing.” Jason’s cell buzzed. He dug it out of his pocket and eyed the screen. “I need to run. So, can you stop by sometime this weekend and do your magic tricks?”
I narrowed my eyes, tempted to pry him for information about Nathan. He’d finally gotten up the nerve to hang out with me? I couldn’t think of any other explanation for what that meant other than the one I wanted it to be. But Jason’s cell buzzed again, and his feet shifted toward the door, away from me. He’d clearly checked out of this conversation.
“You know I’ll stop by, but I don’t know when.” I gripped the handles of the basket. “There’s a lot going on this weekend.”
Jason gave me an exaggerated frown.
“But I swear I’ll come by,” I said, shaking my head at another new commitment to banish even more spirits this weekend. But this was Jason. “I’ll take care of it.”
He gave me a bow and backed away. “Thank you, my lady.”
What a dork.
CHAPTER 14
The harbor looked just as it had when I’d left only an hour earlier, other than the sun dipping lower in the cloudy sky. Nathan leaned against the hood of his car, blasting some Green Day out of the rolled-down windows and scribbling furiously on a notepad.
“What are you doing?” I asked when I hopped out of my truck.
Inwardly, I groaned. I couldn’t have said Hi or Hey, what’s up, could I have?
He looked up, snapped his notepad shut and smiled. “Waiting for you.”
I tried to keep my expression normal, but my constricting chest was making that hard. Even though I’d known he was waiting for me, hearing those words spill out of his mouth made my heart thump with anticipation.
He handed me a paper from his notepad. The paper felt thick and rough between my fingers, and I held my breath as I looked down. He’d drawn a cute cartoon of the two of us hiding behind a refreshment cart and spying on two guys wearing trench coats and dark sunglasses. I laughed out loud. His art was really good, and I finally relaxed for the first time this morning. He’d drawn this just for me.
“Everything okay with Laura?” he asked, and my mood darkened again.
“Yeah, she found something disturbing in today’s newspaper.” I shrugged my backpack around so I could unzip it and pull out the article. Nathan grabbed the paper and read, corners of his mouth pulling down more and more with each second that passed.
“What are you thinking?” he asked when he was done reading.
“Shamans did it. This guy acted like he wanted to talk to me the other day, and I thought he was just being nosy. But now I’m certain he had spirit problems.” I closed my eyes after hearing my breath catch. “This means I have to help Jason and Megan and find out how to stop the shamans from summoning more spirits. I think it’s pretty clear what they’re doing here.”
“Killing off Seaport residents and then stealing their stuff.”
“Yeah, we just need some kind of proof,” I said.
“I’ll drive,” Nathan said. I glanced at my gas-guzzling truck and nodded, relieved I wouldn’t have to pawn my comic books for gas money.
Nathan opened the passenger door, and I slid into his car, the black leather seat creaking. Once he hopped in, the engine roared to life, and Nathan pulled out of the parking lot, following the directions I’d Google-Mapped this morning.
The highway stretched out before us, mile markers racing by. We had the windows rolled down, and I let my hand dangle out the side, feeling the wind whip between my fingers. As the ocean disappeared from view, the pungent scent of salty air faded away, leaving only the smell of leather, car fumes and Nathan—a mixture of clean laundry and cinnamon cookies that smelled like the ones my mom used to bake. My body involuntarily inched closer to his side of the car, and I saw him flash a smile in my direction as if he could read my mind.
“I liked that drawing you gave me,” I said. “You’re a great artist.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I know this whole thing is pretty serious, but I thought that drawing might make you smile.”
My lips quirked up just at the knowledge that he wanted to make me smile.
“Mission accomplished.” I stared at the street sign we passed to make sure we weren’t lost. “So, do you draw a lot? It looked like you were working on something in the parking lot, too.”
His eyes moved toward me. “Every day.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Actually, I run a web comic, too.”
I felt my face light up. “Really? That’s awesome. What’s it about? What’s the URL? How do you even do something like that?”
“Whoa,” he said with a laugh. “Question overload. It’s called ‘Converse and Capes’ and the URL is w-w-w dot converse and capes dot com.”
“I’m totally going to have to check this out,” I said. “What’s it about?”
“A superhero in high school,” he said.
“Speaking of superheroes, I noticed that stack of comics in your room that time I was over.”
“Oh, you mean that time you fainted on me?” He chuckled. “And I’ve noticed the Marvel t-shirts you like to wear all the time. I’m guessing you’re into comics, too?”
Nathan noticed what I wore?
“Yeah, my current favorite is Invincible, but I’m also a big Batman fan.” I eyed another street sign, but it wasn’t the right one.
“I love Batman. It’s classic. You know what I always thought about Bruce Wayne? The normal man is the costume. Batman is who he really is.”
I whipped my head around. “Oh my god, that’s exactly what I keep telling Laura.”
“It’s so obvious.” The car slowed as we approached a stop sign. “Bats are such a part of who he is.” Nathan stopped talking and pointed at the next street sign. “This is their road.”
I sobered up immediately. Here we were. Just knowing their home was somewhere nearby made my palms sweaty and my shoulders tense. I shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat.
“I’m starting to wonder if this is such a good idea after all,” I said, staring at the house numbers we passed.
Nathan didn’t respond, just silently pointed as we passed a white-paneled, one-story house with the numbers six-seven-two tacked to the front. We kept driving past it, down a long row of houses with small front yards and cars parked on the curb. This was more like the short strip of homes near my house than the mansions where most of my classmates lived. Once we were out of sight of the hou
se, Nathan pulled into a driveway and turned around. We drove just close enough that we could see the house before parking behind a car in serious need of a wash.
“I guess now we wait.” I leaned back in the seat with my eyes trained on the front door. Red. Surprise, surprise. I ground my teeth together and prayed the door wouldn’t swing open to reveal shaman eyes zeroing in on me, fury and insanity churning through them. I realized I was holding the door handle like it was a life vest and tried to relax.
“I know a great way to pass the time,” Nathan said. “I just told you something about me. Now it’s your turn. We’ll go back and forth.”
I dragged my eyes away from the house and couldn’t help but grin. “No, now we’re even. I told you something about me yesterday, remember? A lot of things actually. If I recall correctly, they were big secrets.”
He laughed, the sound deep and soothing and genuine. “Come on, Holly. It doesn’t have to be anything big. We could even do a lightning round. Favorite movie?”
I turned my attention back to the house. “That’s easy. Donnie Darko.”
“Mine is Pulp Fiction. Favorite band?”
“Oooh, Pulp Fiction. Good one. Favorite band is harder. It’ll have to be a tie between Motion City Soundtrack and Minus the Bear.”
“Nice. Minus the Bear is definitely in my top ten. I’m hoping to see them in concert this winter,” he said.
“Seriously?” I turned back to him, temporarily forgetting the house. “I’ve been wanting to see them in concert for years. I am so jealous you’re getting tickets.” I would never be able to afford to see a band perform live unless they were playing for free.
“Well, hey, I’d love to have you go with me,” he said.
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. I had the sudden urge to roll down the windows again, wondering why the hell we’d put them up in the first place. The car was warm and suffocating, and I needed air, stat. At least I had somewhere to focus my eyes instead of on Nathan’s face. I was afraid if he saw them, he’d realize how much his words had sent thrills down my neck and arms.
