by Catie Rhodes
I doubted Gage and Veronica knew the burned out ruins behind Memaw’s property had once belonged to Luther Palmore. Why would Reginald have hidden Palmore’s books up here? I knew one thing. If he hid his fortune in the old Palmore house, it burned to ashes more than a century ago. My mind flashed back to the morning of Rae’s murder and the ghost who came out of the Palmore ruins and stood next to me. Luther? The way everything tied together made my head hurt.
“Enough with the bullshit, little bit.” Gage’s eyes were hard with fury. He grabbed my wrist and squeezed until I screamed. Veronica’s cackles and catcalls cut through my pain. “You show us what you’re made of right now, or Veronica will go in the study, pick up that fire poker, and beat Leticia to death with it.”
The cloud of black smoke swirled in the corner of the room. If I tried to enlist the dark spirit to help me, no telling what would happen. If I didn’t, I would die.
“She can’t talk to ghosts no more than Rae could.” Veronica put her hands on her hips. “Just fuck her and let’s go. We can find some family traveling, get a good ways on their credit cards.”
Gage said nothing.
“I’ll even kill her when you’re done.” Veronica took a step toward me. “Her and the old lady. You don’t have to watch.”
“I won’t leave here with nothing.” Gage’s voice rose. “If it hadn’t been for you—”
“If it hadn’t been for me?” Veronica snorted. “You were in debt up to your tits anyway. You were more than ready to agree to Rae’s little moneymaking scheme. You knew you couldn’t stay here much longer.”
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed open. Heavy footsteps ran through the house.
“Peri Jean Mace?” Wade Hill’s voice boomed through the house. My muscles went loose with relief. I opened my mouth and screamed. Wade’s footsteps pounded toward the study, echoing through the big old house.
Gage rummaged in the desk and came up with a snub-nosed revolver. Sweat broke out all over my body, my thoughts speeding to a hysterical jumble. He tipped his chin at me. “Keep her out of the way.”
Veronica grabbed my ear and twisted it, smiling when I yelped. She followed Gage, dragging me behind her. Seeing the only chance I’d have to get the upper hand, I cooperated. Wade burst into the study as we got to the secret room’s door. Things happened fast after that.
I twisted around, ignoring the pain from my ear, and bit Veronica’s inner arm. She howled and shoved me away from her. I grabbed her arm and jerked her toward me, pistoning myself forward. Our foreheads cracked together. She staggered away from me. I followed, grabbing her hair and ramming her head into the wall. I did it until she crumpled to the floor.
Gage stared at us open-mouthed, and Wade charged across the room. Gage fired the gun. It sounded like the world crashing down around us. My ears rang painfully. Wade stopped in his tracks.
“Get Memaw,” I told Wade. “Please. Just get her out of here.”
“Don’t move. I’ll shoot.” Gage trained the gun on Wade. “Put your fucking hands up.”
I turned to the fireplace and grabbed a poker. I advanced on Gage, holding the poker. “Shoot him and I’ll beat you to death.”
Gage snorted. “I’ll shoot you before you get in the first lick.”
“Not unless you hit me in the head. What’s that? Twenty-two caliber?” Wade moved closer to Gage. “Unless you kill me with the first shot, I’ll take that gun away from you and shoot you with it.”
Gage slumped, his eyes darting between Wade and me. Wade took another step forward. Gage straightened again and pulled the hammer back on the revolver. “Stop.”
“Let him take Memaw,” I said. “There’s no way you can win this. Let him take her, and you’ll still have me.”
Gage turned to me, his scary eyes wild. “Put down the poker. And come here.”
“Peri Jean, don’t,” Wade said.
The poker hit the floor with a clang. I walked toward Gage. He grabbed me and dragged me the last couple of feet, sliding his arm over my chest and holding me in front of him. The gun’s barrel dug painfully into my temple. I flinched, sucking in my breath and holding it. The ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart took over my world.
“Get the fuck out,” Gage yelled at Wade.
“I can’t leave you.” Wade held his hands out in a pleading gesture.
“Please. Just take my grandmother and go.” I locked my eyes onto Wade’s and tried to telegraph how much I wanted him to get my grandmother out of there. After a long moment, he jerked a nod and walked to the couch.
He got his arms around Memaw and picked her up as though she weighed nothing. After giving me another long look, he left. His footfalls sounded heavy and final. Veronica staggered to her feet and lurched after him.
“Forget it,” Gage yelled at her. “We can still get out of here. Every cop in town is probably out at that farm. Take ‘em fifteen minutes to get over here.”
Veronica swayed, holding one hand to her head. She looked at me with murder in her eyes. If she got a chance, she’d kill me. I raised one hand and gave her the finger. It’s on, babe. She stalked toward me, her face contorting into a hateful expression.
“Stop it or I’ll kill you.” Gage pointed the gun at her. “Just help me get us out of here.”
“And you…” He turned the gun on me. “Call Reginald Mace. Find the treasure. I’ll kill you if you don’t.” He had no idea what he asked, and really, neither did I. But if an encounter with a ghost was what he wanted, then that’s what Gage was going to get.
I gathered my nerve and concentrated on the black spirit, willing it to come forward. With no idea how to survive the night, I’d concentrate on surviving the next minute. The swirl of black in the corner room rose up and rolled toward me. Chaos filled my mind, convincing me I could whup the world.
I could tell Gage saw the black smoke swirl around me and caress me. His eyes met mine, and whatever he saw there made him take a step back. I closed my eyes and drank in the dark spirit’s power. Help me, I thought.
Another otherworldly presence registered. I opened my eyes to see Rae, blood tinting her skin, float into the room. I thought I was the only one who saw her until Veronica put her hands to her face and screamed. Behind Rae followed our wild-haired, wild-eyed ancestor, Reginald Mace. As crazy as he appeared in old photographs, it didn’t compare to the way his ghost looked. His eyes held a madness I’d never seen in a person living or dead. Together, Rae and our many-greats grandfather advanced toward Veronica.
Veronica’s fear was so intense she could never have worked with someone like me. She clenched both fists and screamed over and over again, taking a breath between each scream. Rae kept moving toward her until Veronica stumbled from the room. A crash sounded. Veronica’s scream ended with a gurgle. A rush of emotion came from the study. Rae was happy she’d hurt Veronica.
I concentrated again and said the words out loud. “Help me.”
The dark spirit’s power swelled, and the rush strained my pounding heart. Arctic wind came from nowhere and blew the small room’s contents into a tornado of flying objects. Instinctively, I flicked my fingers at the black mass swirling around me.
It surrounded and closed in on Gage. He swung his fists, his punches whistling through the air. The black swirl pushed Gage, and he bounced off the wall. Rage twisted his features. He pointed the gun into the black mass and fired. I hit the ground and lay there listening as Gage emptied his gun. The dark spirit never stopped swirling. Gage screamed, a sound as full of fear as it was violence.
Rae leaned over me and motioned me to stand. She directed me toward the desk. I opened a deep bottom drawer and spotted the heavy glass of an ashtray full of cigarette butts. I grabbed the ashtray and snuck up behind Gage. Occupied fighting off Reginald and the dark spirit, he never saw me.
I reared back and swung the ashtray with all my might. Cigarette butts and ashes flew everywhere. The heavy glass connected with the back of Gage’s head and th
umped hollowly. Gage put his hand to the back of his head, where blood immediately seeped through his fingers. He dropped to the floor. I hit him again. He collapsed with a dazed expression on his face.
I stood over him and raised the ashtray again. “This is for Rae and Chase, you useless turd.”
“You bitch.” The voice came from behind me.
I turned to see Veronica charging with a big handgun pointed right at me. Rae shoved me out of the way. A deafening roar crashed through the room, and something seared across my left bicep. I screamed and clapped my hand to my arm. The muscle thrummed with a low, deep ache. Veronica stopped and pointed the gun at my head. She smiled.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.”
Veronica’s grin faded, and she turned. Dean stood in the doorway with his pistol trained on her. He moved his thumb, and a red dot appeared on Veronica’s forehead.
“Drop the gun,” he screamed. “Do it, now.”
Veronica pointed the gun at Dean. Without a second’s hesitation, he shot three times. She crumpled, and a pool of blood spread around her. A transparent Veronica rose from the still body. When she realized I could see her, she bared her teeth at me. Her fury rolled into me like molten lava. The dark sprit flew at her and swirled around her as it had me. Veronica’s ghost screamed silently as she faded into nothingness.
Hannah and I sat on Mace House’s lawn, my arm around her as she sobbed into her hands. She had arrived right after Dean. Along with Wade and Memaw, she heard the shots coming from the house. Of the three, Hannah was the most upset. Memaw knew Dean would take care of me. Wade probably figured I’d take care of myself. Hannah hadn’t known what to think.
She finally slowed down to the type of crying where her chest only hitched every few minutes. She used the hem of her shirt to wipe off her face.
“So your arm is going to be all right?” she asked.
“Sure.” I nodded. “I think my ribs are worse. It hurts to breathe.”
“I guess I just freaked out when I first saw you.” She shivered. “All that blood.”
The results of yet another nosebleed decorated my t-shirt. I probably looked like I’d been in a war. And I had, sort of. The nosebleeds, which started the night Rae came back in spirit form, worried me. But I had a feeling no medicine existed to fix them. I told the paramedics I got this one when Veronica punched me in the nose. Maybe it wouldn’t happen again.
Wade walked over to us holding two bottles of water so cold condensation beaded on them. He handed one to me and one to Hannah.
“Thank you,” I said as I took my water.
“It’s the least I could do.” He gave me a long, reproachful look.
“Thank you for taking Memaw out of there.” I needed to explain. “Gage threatened to let Veronica beat her to death.”
Hannah gasped. Wade gave me a quick nod.
“So,” Wade said, “did you find the treasure?”
I told Wade and Hannah about the books.
“What does it mean?” Hannah asked.
“It means exactly what I thought all along. That treasure is bullshit and always was. Reginald Mace was a crazy man.” But that crazy man came to help me when I needed it. Had I called him or had the dark spirit? No matter. I didn’t want to get up close and personal with that thing ever again.
Two paramedics loaded Gage’s still form into Gaslight City’s one ambulance. I must have hit him harder than I thought. He hadn’t regained consciousness. It might have been wicked of me, but I hoped he never did. Hooty Bruce and another man loaded a black body bag containing Veronica’s remains into the funeral home’s hearse.
The ambulance pulled away from the curb and revealed a teenage girl standing in the street. Without the bleached blonde hair, the boob job, and the hard look on her face, it took me several seconds to recognize Rae.
She wiggled her fingers at me. I inclined my head toward her. She’d saved me, not once but twice, and I owed her a break. Her emotions rushed to me. I leaned back and let them envelop me. Love, joy, and appreciation tinged with just a little bit of jealousy flowed over me. I didn’t blame her. Figuring out how to live this life took more than thirty measly years. She got robbed.
We stared at each other, and I let go of whatever resentment I had left. A glow rose from the ground and pulsed around Rae. Though I doubted I’d miss her, a lump formed in my throat. The light made Rae brighter and brighter until she just winked out.
“You cold?” Hannah asked.
“Huh?”
“You’re shivering.” She spoke slowly, maybe thinking I couldn’t understand. “I asked if you were cold.”
“I’m okay.” I pulled my jacket around me and stuck my hands in the pockets. Something brushed my hand. I pulled the scrap of paper out of my pocket, unfolded it and used the streetlight to read it.
Scribbled in Rae’s handwriting, it read:
Life ain’t no dress rehearsal. Do it right. You are worth it.
Can I borrow fifty bucks?
I couldn’t help smiling. She must have put the note in my jacket last spring, and I put it away for the summer without finding it. My cousin had been one of a kind, her silly advice spot on. From now on, I would remember I only had one shot to do it right.
Dean joined us, looking much the way he had the first day I met him—upset and tired. He sat down next to me and put his arm over my shoulders. I leaned into him.
Dean glanced at Wade and scowled. “You still here? This is an official crime scene.”
“Settle down, little buddy. I’m officially about to leave,” Wade said, as though they’d already had this discussion. “I wanted to bring the ladies some water.”
“Your help, while greatly appreciated, is no longer needed,” Dean said with more force than necessary.
Wade turned to me. “You sure about this? He has a Napoleon complex.”
Hannah laughed. Dean scowled. The world was right again.
Epilogue
A Few Days Later
A light November wind blew over Piney Hill Cemetery, the areas in shadow about ten degrees cooler than where the full sun beamed down. Summer was gone for one more year.
Despite the robin’s egg blue sky and the brilliant sun, a deep sadness filled me, weighting my steps with a fatigue I couldn’t shake. Dean’s firm grip on my arm grounded me, kept me from wandering into shadow. He guided me to the front row of metal folding chairs. I turned to him.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” My voice sounded disembodied, like maybe it belonged to someone else.
“Go on and sit down.” Dean put one hand on each of my shoulders and gave me a gentle push. I sat because I didn’t have the energy to do anything else. “They’ll expect you to say something. Have you thought about what you want to say?”
The sun illuminated the highlights in Dean’s hair. He squinted his eyes against the sun, but I saw caring in their depths. Not a day went by that Dean didn’t surprise me.
I glanced toward the ladies from Gaslight City First Baptist who wove mums into an archway near where the casket would be placed. Eddie Kennedy worked to stabilize the archway so the wind couldn’t blow it over. I spotted Memaw working next to Hannah. Memaw’s head rose as though she sensed me looking for her. She tipped her chin and gave me a wave. I returned the gesture.
From this distance, she looked normal. She didn’t look like a woman dying of cancer. But if Dr. Longstreet knew his stuff, her health would fade fast. Sooner rather than later, I’d be sitting in a metal folding chair at her funeral. A dark hand on my arm drew me out of my reverie. Hooty Bruce—father of the formidable Rainey—knelt in front of me, next to Dean.
“Now, I’ll be giving the sermon just like Jolene and Darren Fischer asked. We’ll have a song, I’ll talk, we’ll have another song, and then I’ll call on you.” Hooty stopped speaking and turned his attention to Dean. “Is she going to be able to speak? No shame if she can’t.”
“I can speak,” I said, my voice still sounding as though it came f
rom afar. I had no idea what to say, but I wanted to send the best friend I’d ever had off in style. Not many people—other than Chase’s parents and me—understood what had been good about him. They only remembered him as a drunk and a druggie.
Hooty and Dean exchanged a long look, one I couldn’t interpret. Hooty finally nodded and stood. He gave me a rough pat on the shoulder and wandered over to Memaw. The two talked, their gazes wandering to me every few seconds. I had to pull myself together but the lethargy in my bones weighed a ton. Going back to bed sounded like a great idea.
“I need to make sure I parked the car in the right place.” Dean, still kneeling in front of me, took my hand. “I’ll be back.”
“I’m okay.” I leaned forward, ignoring the stab in my back from a cracked rib. Putting my arms around Dean caused more screams of pain from my bruised body, but I did it. I gave him a squeeze and wondered for the millionth time how things would end up between us. For once in my life, I decided to enjoy the ride and not worry about controlling things. I brushed a kiss on Dean’s cheek, enjoying the thrill of pleasure. “I appreciate everything you’re doing right now.”
Dean’s lips curved into a smile, one that touched his eyes. “That’s all I need to hear.” He got up, brushed off his pants, and wandered toward his ratty old Trans Am.
I sat back on the hard metal folding chair with a grunt. My body still ached from the beating Michael Gage and Veronica Spinelli gave me. Gage had fared much worse. He languished in a coma at Mother Francis Hospital in Tyler. The doctor said he couldn’t understand what caused the coma since the skull was not fractured. Armed law enforcement guarded Gage twenty-four hours a day.
According to Dean, Veronica Spinelli lay unclaimed at the Smith County Coroner’s office. Dean offered to pay for a pauper’s burial. His guilt over the shooting surprised me. His killing her saved me, and Veronica was a horror of human being. I didn’t feel bad about her demise.
