The cemetery was packed with spirits. Some floated aimlessly while others gathered and talked among themselves. Two hovered near an Oak tree, singing a church hymn I recognized but couldn't name. Behind them a group of spirits all dressed in military outfits marched to the rhythm of the song.
I grabbed the bottle of over the counter migraine medicine in my purse and forced a tablet down without water. The volume of ghosts at the cemetery all but guaranteed a migraine.
"I can't believe how big this place is," Mel said.
"It was created in about 1850, I think," Aaron said. "I think it was originally six acres but now it's something like forty-eight. There's over seventy thousand people buried here, too."
"Why on earth would you know that?" I asked.
"I like cemeteries. They're peaceful, beautiful places. This one especially." Aaron pointed in front of him. "Oakland was designed during the rural garden cemetery movement. Back then people wanted extravagant, elaborate mausoleums and statues to represent their loved ones. They wanted flowers and trees and attractive landscape. They got it too but in the early 1900s it fell apart. When it was placed on the Historic Register back in the seventies though, people started to care for it again. And this is the result of that."
I giggled as Mel hung on his every word. "Well look at you," she said, her voice an octave higher than normal. "A cemetery expert. Who knew?"
"It's nothing, really." Aaron's face flushed the color of cotton candy. I made a mental note to tease the crap out of him about that later.
"I'd be happy to take you on a tour of the city," Price said. "I've lived here all my life and know a lot about its history."
"I do too," Aaron said. "I just finished a class at Emory University on the historical significance of Atlanta in modern society."
He did what?
"Is Bennett the professor?" Price asked.
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I took that class two years ago."
And the competition for Mel's heart had officially begun.
They played a verbal tennis match, each lobbing a gripping piece of Atlanta trivia, hoping to one up the other and impress my best friend. Mel oohed and cooed at each of them at the appropriate times, loving every minute of it. "I've always wanted to go on the Ferris wheel," Mel said to Price. "Maybe we can go on that sometime."
"I know a guy who can get us to the front of the line," Aaron said.
I cleared my throat. "Uh, guys? Can we get movin' here?" I asked. Apparently I'd become invisible because none of them even acknowledged me. I pushed my way in-between the detectives. "Seriously, ya'll need to put your doohickeys back in your undies already. This place is full of ghosts and if I don't get outta here soon my head's gonna explode."
A flush crept across Price's face and Aaron's ears turned pink. Mel fiddled with her purse strap.
"Where's the tomb?" I asked Price.
He pulled out his notepad and flipped through the pages. "It's in the Greenhouse Valley area, near Potter's Field."
Aaron pointed up and to the right. "I know the area. Follow me."
"This is Child Square," Aaron said as we made our way toward Caroline's tomb.
Two young children flitted through the markers, chasing each other and laughing. Part of me was thrilled to see them happy while the other part was devastated for their families.
"Margaret Mitchell is buried in the original six acres to our left," Aaron said.
"Oh, Gone with the Wind. I loved that book," Mel said.
"Never read it," I admitted.
"What? You never read Gone with the Wind? How is that even possible?"
"Uh, because it was written before I was born and I saw the movie, that's how."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Why would I kid about that? And the movie was horrible by the way. I fell asleep during it."
"Gone with the Wind is my favorite book."
"Sorry but it's not my thing. I prefer the classics."
"You mean like Pride and Prejudice?"
"The classics Mel, not the stuff the BBC's made into movies. You know, like Flowers in the Attic and Petals on the Wind? I have to say I never really got into If There Be Thorns though. Seemed a little creepy to me."
She shook her head and flung her arms in the air. "How are we even friends?" She race-walked to catch up to the detectives.
"What?" I walked faster, too. "Those are pure American classics. They're like soap operas but in a book. Not some funky period drama no one can relate to."
She flipped around and gave me a death stare. "But you can relate to being locked in an attic and boinking your brother?"
"Paul or John?"
Mel laughed. "So gross. You are so gross."
"Hey, John was kinda cute when he was younger."
She threw her arm around my shoulder.
Just then a black blur flashed in front of me. I stumbled backward and grabbed onto Mel's arm. It disappeared quickly, leaving me dizzy and shaken. Something wasn't right. My chest was tight, like someone was sitting on it.
Mel grabbed my shoulders. "Hey, you okay? You look funny."
Two Mels swayed in front of me. "I'm really dizzy. I think I need to—"
And then everything went dark.
***
"Call 911! She could be dying!"
"Angela? It's Aaron. Can you hear me?" His voice echoed, like he was in a tunnel.
"Do you have any water in your purse?"
"Is she diabetic?"
My eyelids were so heavy I had to focus to open them. "Why is everyone yelling?"
They stared down at me.
"And why am I on the ground?"
"You fainted," Mel said. "One minute you were talking and then you collapsed. Are you okay?"
I pushed myself into a sitting position. "Fainted?" I licked my teeth. My mouth and throat were so dry it was almost impossible to swallow. "Does anyone have any water?"
Mel's twin had disappeared and I said a silent thank you. One Mel was great but two would have been too much to handle. "Do we need to call an ambulance? Maybe we should get you to a hospital," she said.
I waved her off. "No, I'm okay, really." I attempted to stand, got dizzy again and sat back down. "Wow. Weird."
An older man in a golf cart pulled up. "Everyone okay here, Aaron?" An older woman floating in the seat next to him waved hello. I waved back.
"Hey, Stan, thanks for coming. You didn't happen to bring any waters and your medical kit did you?"
The man grabbed a black bag from the back of the cart. "Haven't left the house without this in forty years." He tossed a water bottle at Aaron. "Got a case of them in this cooler so help yourselves." He bent down beside me. "So what do we have here?"
"You know Aaron?" Mel asked.
"'Course I do. We've been volunteering here together for years."
Aaron handed me the bottle of water and I guzzled the entire thing without taking a breath.
"For about five years," Aaron said. "Stan's a retired physician. He's here most everyday so I sent him a text letting him know we'd be here."
"Well you've got great timing," Mel said. "Can you help her?"
"I'm fine," I said and stood to prove my point. "Probably just dehydrated is all."
Stan searched his medical bag. "Let me get my stethoscope and check you out."
The black blur appeared from behind a grave marker several feet in front of me but disappeared a second later. I scanned everyone's faces to see if they saw it too but they were too busy eyeing me.
"Stay away from that," the woman in the golf cart said. "It's dangerous."
"What is it?" I whispered.
"We don't know but whatever it is, it's angry," she said. "Best be careful." She shimmered away.
Stan checked my heart and held my wrist. "Heart sounds good and strong. Pulse seems normal." He pulled my eyes wide and peered into them. "Pupils seem fine too. Open your mouth and say ah."
Really?
"Ahhhhh."
/>
"I think you'll make it another day," Stan said. "Look a little dehydrated. Might be a good idea to increase your water intake."
"Thank you for helping me and I definitely will drink more water."
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where you headed? Need a lift?"
"We're going to Caroline Saunders' tomb."
"Oh, the young girl who was killed in a car accident. Her father's been here just about every day since they buried her, 'cept for when he was in jail, that is. Breaks my heart to see him standing there. Must have destroyed him, losing his baby like that."
Price pulled out his notepad. "You've seen him every day?"
Stan rubbed his chin. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen him around much lately. Can't imagine what it must feel like to lose your only child."
We all nodded in agreement.
"Did you ever talk to Mr. Saunders?" Price asked.
"Oh sure. Most days I brought him a bottle of water or a coffee if it was cold. I'd sit with him and he'd tell me stories about his sweet Caroline. Sounded like he had himself a wonderful family until the accident. Such a shame."
"Did he ever talk about his sister and her family?" Aaron asked.
Stan raised an eyebrow. "Not that I recall. He seemed pretty focused on spending time remembering his daughter." He headed toward the cart. "Offer's still open if you want a ride."
"We'd love one," Mel said.
"Well then, come on."
Mel hopped in the front and I climbed into the back.
Stan smiled at the detectives. "Looks like you boys are going to have to walk."
Stan revved up the cart's tiny engine, scooted right past Aaron and Price with an evil grin on his face. "Race ya," he said, and put the pedal to the metal. Mel and I jerked backwards and grabbed onto the sides of the cart.
***
Stan dropped us off down the path from Caroline's tomb. We waited for the men to catch up.
Concern framed Mel's face. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, I promise." I rubbed her shoulder. "What about you? It wasn't that long ago you tossed your cookies on the side of the road, you know."
"That was today? Wow. Feels like it was yesterday."
I snickered. "You tossed your cookies yesterday too, actually."
"Yes, how could I forget that?"
"Maybe we're both coming down with something."
"God I hope not."
The detectives walked up, no worse for the wear.
"'Bout time you two got here," I joked. "Been waiting practically all day."
"You okay?" Aaron asked.
"You faint like that a lot?" Price asked.
"I am fine, I promise. Just a little dehydrated like Stan said. Geesh."
We gaped in awe at the massive stone mausoleum. It was magnificent. The gray and white limestone was a touch discolored, from weather I assumed but the discoloring added depth to the structure. The angel statue from my dream sat next to the dark green wrought iron mausoleum door, which was flanked with two ornate columns and a small overhang. Compared to other tombs nearby, Caroline's was modern, a testament to the time it was created.
"It's the same one from my dream." I touched the stone column. "Tiffany's in here. I know it."
"Can you feel her?" Mel asked.
I shook my head.
"What about Caroline?"
"Nope." I draped my hand down the column. "I don't feel anything, actually."
"I don't understand," Price said. "I thought you could see them?"
"If they allow me to, yes but they don't always want to be seen so I've been focusing on feeling their energy."
"But you don't feel anything now?" Aaron asked.
I sighed. "No." I dropped my hand and faced the group. "Would ya'll mind giving me a little space? It might help me focus."
"Oh, sorry," Mel said, and crooked her head to the right. "Come on, boys. You can show me how your handcuffs work." She flipped around and winked at me.
I giggled as both men's posture straightened.
I placed my hand back on the stone column, closed my eyes, and focused on clearing my head. Other than the temperature of the stone, I felt nothing, so I moved to the side and placed my hand directly on the mausoleum itself. An image of Tiffany flashed before me and then the energy shifted. Flames surrounded my hand and seared my palm. I yanked my arm back and cupped my other one around it. "What the hell?" The black blur burst through the stone and shot past me so fast my hair blew backward. I spun around but the blur was already gone. My chest tightened and I gasped for air. I bent forward, braced my hands against my thighs, and tried to suck in mouthfuls of it but couldn't. I tried to scream but could barely whisper. "I can't breathe."
The three of them rushed over to me.
Mel grabbed me by the waist. "It's okay," she said, holding me up. "You're breathing. Just relax."
The air finally made it to my lungs. "Oh my God." I grabbed my chest. "My lungs hurt."
"Here, drink this." She gave me one of Stan's water bottles.
I pushed it away. "I'm okay." I took several deep breaths. "Air is pretty freaking amazing, you know?"
"I know. I hear we need it to survive."
"Did you see the flames?"
"What flames?" she asked.
"The flames on the mausoleum. They burned my hand." I held it up but it wasn't burned at all.
"What the hell happened?" Aaron asked. "I've never seen you like this. Are you okay?"
He'd never seen me like that because I'd never experienced anything like that before. "I'm fine," I said, even though I wasn't. I turned back to the tomb. "Tiffany's in there. I saw her. I think she died because she couldn't breathe." I didn't mention the black blur.
"Is her, uh…ghost here?" Price asked.
I shook my head.
"What about Tom Saunders? Or Caroline?" Aaron asked.
"I don't think so."
"So you saw Tiffany in the tomb but she didn't come to you? I don't understand," Mel said.
I took the water bottle from Mel and swallowed half of it down. "I don't get it either," I said, shaking my head. "Maybe she wanted me to feel what she felt. I don't know."
"Maybe she's crossed over already and can't come back?" Mel asked. "That happens, right?"
"I guess."
"Maybe what you saw was left over energy. Doesn't that happen sometimes?"
"I dunno. This is way all above my pay grade. All I know is that Tiffany's remains are in that tomb and we gotta get them out."
Price approached the tomb and pulled on the wrought iron door handle. It didn't budge. "Was worth a shot."
"Aaron, can't you pull some strings and get the tomb open?"
"I'm just a volunteer, Angela. I don't have any authority here."
"I know but you said you've volunteered here a long time and you're a cop. That's gotta mean something. Can't you at least try?"
"What about the sexton?" Price asked. "Do you know him or her?"
"Andy Mallory. Yeah, I know him but there's procedure to follow here. He'll need the okay from the director or the family before he'll do it."
"Then maybe we go to the director and tell him what's going on," Mel said. "You know him too, right?"
Aaron nodded. "It's a she and yes, I know her."
"I can tell her what I know," I said. "She works at a cemetery for cryin' out loud. She's gotta be a believer."
"Actually most of the people that work here don't believe in ghosts," he said.
"Seriously?” Mel asked. "Why not?"
"I'm not sure. Probably self-preservation."
"If we tell her about Matthew Clough she'll believe us," I said. "Come on, don't you think it's worth a shot?"
"It couldn't hurt," Price said. "And I'd rather do this without talking to the Stark family first. They'll find out of course but this way they don't have to make the decision."
Aaron thought about it for a few seconds and then finally agreed. "I'm not making any promises
but come on."
We headed to the cemetery office.
***
The Funeral Director sent the Sexton to open Caroline Saunders' tomb under the guise that we'd heard something fall while there. I had no idea what to expect when he opened the door but I knew it wouldn't be good. Mel and I held our breath as he pulled the wrought iron door open but it didn't matter. Tiffany wasn't in the tomb. And neither was Caroline.
***
"I don't understand," I said as Price drove us all back to the station. "Tiffany said she was with Caroline by the angel."
When the Sexton opened the tomb and discovered Caroline's casket open and empty, all hell broke loose at the cemetery. Price said an investigation would begin and he'd keep us posted on what happened. Aaron made both Andy and the Sexton promise not to mention our involvement and we got out of there before any of Price's peers caught a glimpse of him, too.
"You had to have missed something," Mel said.
I shook my head. "No, I didn't miss anything. Tiffany even told me I knew where she was. And what about the angel? It's the one from my dream." I leaned my head against the backseat. "I just don't get it."
"Mel's right. Something's missing," Aaron said. "It's been a long day and you're not yourself. Go home, get some rest and we'll talk again tomorrow." He turned and smiled at me. "We'll find her, Angela. You know that, right?"
"We'll definitely find her," Price said.
"Definitely," Mel agreed.
***
When Price dropped us off at my car in the police lot he handed Mel a business card. "If you'd ever like to meet for a drink, feel free to call me."
I eyed Aaron and thought I saw little puffs of steam spurting out of his ears.
"Oh, sure. That'd be great," she said.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward my car. "I think you've got some competition, dude," I whispered.
Price and Mel walked over. I thanked him for his help and he assured me we'd get to the bottom of it and find Tiffany's remains. "What you do doesn't make sense to me, Mrs. Panther, but I believe you."
"Thanks, Detective. And I think we've earned the right to call each other by our first names, don't you think?"
He nodded. "Absolutely, Angela."
"Thanks, Scott. We'll be in touch, okay?"
He nodded again and leaned toward Mel. "Looking forward to seeing you again soon." He acknowledged Aaron with a nod, said, "Detective," and then walked away.
Uncharted Territory (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 3) Page 24
