The Ghost Files 4: Part 1

by Apryl Baker

  My hand shakes a little bit as I hold the album. I’d shoved it in my bag so I could think about it later. I put everything off until later that might cause me some pain. It’s a habit of mine. If Dan had known about the album, he’d have made me look through it the same day Zeke gave it to me.

  I lay the album on my lap and open it. The first picture I see floors me.

  It’s a photo of my father and my birth mother, laughing and looking happy.

  The problem? I’ve seen her before.

  Chapter Two

  I’d had a vision of a woman sitting in a field with her little boy and her baby. I’d thought they were ghosts at first, that the woman didn’t know they were dead. She’d been so upset when I asked her about the children’s father. Was the little girl me? Had I seen myself when I was just a baby? That woman was my mother?

  So many questions rattle around in my head. What had I actually seen? Was it a vision or, maybe I’d seen inside my mother’s mind? Zeke said she was in a catatonic state and no one had been able to reach her because she blamed herself for my kidnapping.

  Or so we’d all thought. According to Doc, my mother had sent me away with the woman who’d raised me. My head hurt trying to sort out all the secrets. Maybe Claire had told Doc that my mother sent me away, and that was the only truth he knew. Seriously, who in their right mind would admit to kidnapping?

  One thing doesn’t make sense. If my mother sent me away, why would she have collapsed into a catatonic state? Zeke said her guilt drove her nuts, but why feel guilty if she was trying to protect me?

  I need to go see Melissa. Since I can talk to her in my dreams, maybe she’ll hear my voice and realize I’m not gone anymore, that I’m home. Or maybe she is so far gone, no one can reach her. Either way, I want to try. She’s my family, and I’d grown up in the foster care system with no one. I am not about to simply forget her because she’s got some mental issues.

  Dan is still passed out, so I close the album and go back downstairs to find Zeke. He’s in his office, cell phone in hand, pacing. He sounds frustrated and more than a little irritated. There’s a cold bite to his voice that sends shivers down my spine. He never uses this tone around me, and I can see the man everyone tried to warn me about, the ruthless man who has done very bad things.

  “I told you, Mama, she’s not ready to see anyone yet.” He pauses while he listens. “She’s my daughter, and my answer is no.”

  Even I can hear the woman screech from over here. “Ezekiel David Crane, don’t you dare speak to me like that!”

  Zeke’s eyes close briefly and he takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mama.” He listens, and before he can say anything else, his mother hangs up on him. At least that’s what I think she did, because he stares at it nonplussed.

  It’s funny to see Zeke flustered. He’s usually so self-assured and more than a little scary. It humanizes him.

  He turns and sees me in the doorway and his expression becomes alarmed. “Is everything all right, ma petite?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  His aggravation comes back. “No, it is I that am sorry. My parents will not be put off anymore, especially after tonight’s events. They are catching the first flight out of New Orleans. I have tried to keep them from bombarding you until you get more comfortable with the situation.”

  “It’s okay.” Inside I’m freaking out at the thought of my grandparents coming to meet me, but I push it down. I have more important things to deal with at the moment.

  “You don’t know my parents.” He runs a hand over his face, much like I tend to do when I’m frustrated. It makes me smile a little to see something we share. “I guess we shall worry about them when they arrive. Now, ma petite, did you need something?”

  I hold up the photo album. “Do you have a minute to answer some questions?”

  The smile that spreads across his face tugs at my heart. I’m struck again that I have a father who loves me. It still boggles my mind.

  “Come sit.” He gestures toward the couch sitting against one wall and I follow him over. It’s as soft as it looks.

  I open the album to the first page. “This is my mother?”

  “Yes, that is Melissa,” he confirms.

  “I’ve seen her before,” I blurt out.

  “What?” He gives me the same nonplussed look he’d had a moment before. “That’s impossible, Mattie. Your mother has been in a comatose state for the last thirteen years.”

  “It was a dream…well…vision might be a better word.”

  Zeke cocks his head, but waits for me to continue.

  “I dreamt of this woman sitting in a field with her two kids. One was a baby, and the little boy was about five or six, I think. I thought they were all ghosts and she didn’t know it, but when I saw this picture…”

  “There was a little boy there?” Zeke asks, a frown marring his face.

  I nod, deciding to trust my father with Silas’s bombshell. “Silas said I had a brother.”

  “What?” he nearly shouts.

  “He said you didn’t know about him because he wasn’t yours.”

  “That demon lies quite frequently.” Zeke stands and goes to pour himself a drink from the small bar he has in the office.

  “Not this time,” I say. “Silas has never lied to me, and besides, in my dream, there was a little boy.”

  Zeke mutters something I can’t hear and starts to pace. “How often does the demon speak with you?”

  “He pops up randomly. Caleb demon-proofed the house for me so he can’t just show up in my bedroom anymore.”

  The look Zeke gives me is one of fury, but it’s not directed at me. He’s not happy about Silas showing up in my bedroom. I had been none-to-pleased at the time either.

  “I don’t know that much about Melissa’s family,” Zeke admits. “She was very closemouthed about them, as I told you before. After we admitted her into the hospital, I tried to find them, but I discovered a few things about your mother.”

  My eyes widen. He said it so ominously.

  “When I met Melissa, I was enamored. She was beautiful and very mysterious. The more time I spent with her, the fonder I grew of her. When she discovered she was pregnant, I offered to marry her, but she refused. This much I have told you.”

  He takes a long drink of the amber liquid in his tumbler and settles himself on the edge of his desk.

  “She would never talk about her family. It upset her to think of them, but I don’t know why. I had assumed they were estranged, or possibly that she had no living relatives. I didn’t know. She wouldn’t speak of them at all. In truth, it didn’t really concern me. We were happy at that point.”

  “I hear a but?” I sit back and pull my legs up, tucking my feet under me Indian style on the comfy sofa.

  “But she started to change once you were born.” He downs the rest of his drink, and I can’t help but to think he seems to be trying to fortify himself.

  “Your mother adored you,” he told me. “She used to sit and watch you sleep for hours when you were born. As you grew, she started to look at you differently. I never doubted that she loved you, ma petite, but I became concerned for your safety.”

  “My safety?”

  “You asked me when we first met if I would ever sacrifice you to gain more power. I wouldn’t, but I don’t know if the same could be said of Melissa. I walked in on her one day, her hand over your face. It scared me. I hired a nanny the next day.”

  My eyes widen. My birth mother tried to kill me too?

  “She said she was simply trying to put you to sleep, rubbing her hand up and down your face. I’d seen her do it often enough. You had to be coaxed to sleep when you were a baby.” A smile ghosts across his face at the memory.

  “You didn’t believe her?”

  He sighs deeply. “I still don’t know the answer to that question. She watched you a lot, and her look was more calculating than anything else. I don’t tell you this to try and sway
your opinion on your mother. I’m only trying to explain some things you need to know.”

  I really don’t want to believe that both my mothers tried to kill me, but from what Zeke is saying, it appears they did. Aren’t I the lucky one?

  “I had a bad feeling the day I left for a business meeting in Dallas. I knew I shouldn’t have gone, but I trusted Amanda to watch over you. She adored you and gave you the love your mother seemed to be unable to give you during those last weeks you were with us. She’d become withdrawn, depressed. I was worried and had already spoken with her about seeing someone for her depression. When I came home to discover her locked in her room and you missing…” He closes his eyes and a look of pain crosses his face.

  “Locked in her room?” I ask, confused. Why would she be locked in her room?

  “I told you she became worse in the final weeks before your kidnapping. I started finding her in your room at all hours of the night, staring at you oddly. It scared the devil out of me. So much so that I moved Amanda’s bed into your nursery. I put a lock on the outside of our door for those nights I had to be away. I didn’t trust her not to hurt you or Amanda. I was so concerned about what your mother might do to you that I failed to notice the attachment Amanda had formed.”

  He blames himself for my kidnapping. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Whose fault it was or was not is moot now.” He smiles sadly. “I’m just sorry you grew up the way you did.”

  “Don’t be,” I tell him. “I’m not. My mom might not have been a perfect mother, and yes, she was a junkie, but she loved me. Even now, knowing what I do, I can still say that because I think in her own way, she was trying to protect me. In her mind, killing me saved me. I would be safe from everyone and everything. I know it’s hard for you to hear, but Claire, or Amanda as you know her, was my mom, and I love my mama.” That is a truth I finally accepted, and I am okay with it now.

  Zeke stands and comes over to sit beside me. “It is hard for me, ma petite. She took you away from me, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for that. I do understand, though, that you loved her and that she was your mother. No one could ever tell me my mother didn’t love me, because like you, I love my mama. I won’t ever try to take that away from you. I’m trying to understand that she took you to protect you from Melissa, but it’s difficult. I need time, ma petite, to wrap my head around it and start to forgive her.”

  Telling him Claire took me to keep me safe from him is not something I’m gonna say. Let him believe what he wants. Unless Melissa wakes up and says otherwise, he’ll never know, and telling him would hurt him. It’s not something I’m prepared to do.

  “We’re off topic.” Zeke straightens and leans back against the couch. “When your mother slipped into her comatose state, I tried to find her family. I hired the best private investigators money could buy, and they all came up empty. Melissa was very good at covering her tracks. I don’t even think her name was Melissa Roux.”

  A thought struck me and I gasped. “Wait. In the dream, she said her name was Georgina…Georgina Dubois, and her son’s name was Jacob.”

  Zeke nods, his face troubled. “You’re sure she said Dubois?”

  “Yeah, is that a bad thing?”

  “Maybe. I have to do some digging first.”

  This doesn’t bode well at all. He looks more than worried. He looks a little scared. “Why is her last name a bad thing?”

  His eyes are troubled when he finally speaks. “The Dubois family, at least the one that runs in our supernatural circles, is deeply rooted in the black arts. Our family may deal with demons when we need to, but their family relies on demons for many things. The deals they’ve made…” He shakes his head in disgust. “You mother, however, may not be involved in that particular family. There are many Dubois in Louisiana. Let’s not borrow trouble unless we have to, okay?”

  I think my face has grown paler because his eyes widen with worry. My mother’s family dealt in demons too? Silas keeps telling me I belong to him. What if I do? What if Melissa or someone in her family promised me to Silas? Did they make a deal with me as the demon’s price? My hands start to shake, and Zeke’s worry grows to full-out alarm.

  “Ma petite, what’s wrong?”

  “Do you think…maybe, the reason Silas keeps popping up is because of some kind of deal Melissa made with him?”

  “I don’t know.” True worry colors his tone. “But be assured, if that is the case, the demon owes me enough favors, it won’t make a difference if she did do something like that. You are my child, and no one, living, dead, or supernatural will ever harm you.”

  I look up and get a good look at the very bad man who is my father. His face is fierce, hard, and cold all at once. He means every word, and it scares me. I don’t want him to hurt anyone in his attempt to protect me. I have this feeling that no matter what he does, he can’t protect me from what Silas has planned. I don’t know what Silas wants, but I think it’s major. He wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble keeping me alive otherwise.

  “Can I ask you a question, Zeke?”

  “Of course.” He’s starting to calm down a little.

  “My grandparents…did they know what the oracle told you about me?”

  “You don’t pull any punches, do you?” he asks ruefully. “Yes, your grandparents know what the oracle said. They never believed I’d be able to murder my own child to gain her powers.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of how much they love me. My mother said once I held you, I’d understand her faith in me because I would love you as much as she does me. And I do.”

  “So I don’t have to worry about them plotting to kill me, then?” I try to make it a joke, but I am quite serious. It seems everyone in my family has, at one point or another, wanted to see me dead. It’s unnerving.

  That causes Zeke to laugh. “I’d like to see someone try to hurt you around my mother. I was with her when I got the call they may have found you. It’s the first time I’ve seen my mother cry since my sister died when I was just a boy. Trust me, sweetheart, your grandmother will protect you with her dying breath.”

  Relief swamps me. One less thing to worry about.

  “I’m gonna head back upstairs.” I stand. “I need to make sure Dan’s okay.”

  “Of course,” Zeke murmurs. “I’ll make a few calls and see if we can find this missing brother of yours.”

  I start to walk away, but stop. “Zeke?”

  “Hmm?” he asks, not really paying attention. I can tell his focus has shifted to Melissa and the information I’ve given him.

  “I just wanted to say thank you for everything.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, Mattie. I’m your father, and I’m supposed to take care of you.”

  “I know, but it’s been a long time since anyone has cared this much about me. I haven’t had anyone do that since my mom died, so thank you.”

  I turn and rush out of the room before he can say anything.

  Talking about my feelings is something I hate doing. It upsets me because showing any kind of emotion growing up in foster care made you weak and a target to be bullied. I know that’s the wrong stance to take, but it’s what I know, and breaking old habits is harder than one would think.

  I have a family who really loves me, and I’m terrified. What if I mess up? What if I disappoint them? I didn’t grow up with money, and they come from old money. Zeke oozes proper manners, and his speech is so cultured. It makes me feel inferior. No matter what he says, I know appearances are important to him, and most likely my grandparents too.

  The cold slaps me in the face at the top of the stairs. I’d been so involved in stressing out over meeting my grandparents and everything Zeke told me about my mother, I didn’t pay attention as I ran up the stairs.

  I’m paying attention now.

  The hallway is dark, the only light coming from a cracked door at the end of the hall. There’s something here, even if I don’t see it. Ze
ke had to take down the ghost-proofing so I could enter the house. Anything could be in here. Where is it?

  I take two steps forward and wince as a blast of cold hits me. It seeps into my bones, a slow, icy burn. Emotions flood me, and I almost fall under the weight of them. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I’ve come up against some pretty scary stuff. This thing is hurt and angry and full of rage.

  “Hello?” I whisper.

  The bathroom door swings open, and I glance that way, unwilling to move closer. I can hear the dripping of the water.

  The cold intensifies, and a sheen of frost starts to cover the walls.

  Ice forms at the base of the bathroom door, and I watch as it starts to spread out, like a spider’s web, and creeps toward me, speeding faster and faster down the hallway.

  The air becomes icy cold and dry. It burns my throat as I breathe in, watching the ice crawl down the hall.

  Well, fudgepops. This isn’t good at all.

  The door to my left creaks, and I freeze.

  Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

  I close my eyes and refuse to look.

  Someone whispers in my ear, and the pain that explodes in my head rips a scream out of me. I fall to my knees and place both hands over my ears. The cold bites into me, and I know it’s touching me. I can feel it.

  I open my eyes and look up, and I can’t help it.

  I scream.

  Chapter Three

  Dan

  A sigh of relief escapes when she leaves my room. Pretending to sleep is harder than it sounds. I know she just wants to help me, but right now, I can’t deal with her.

  The guilt is eating me alive. My girlfriend is lying dead in the morgue, and the only thing going through my head is thank God it’s not Mattie. How messed up is that? When I saw Meg go down, I didn’t even look at her. Panic hit me, and the only person I looked for was my Squirt. My one and only thought was to make sure Mattie was safe. Meg was my girlfriend. I should have thought of her first.