The Exorcist Who Loved Me

by Jennifer Savalli

  Holly shook her head. “Jake and Paul owned the company. Why would they embezzle from themselves?”

  Celia’s leg swung higher. “I don’t know. Let’s ask Jake and find out. I’m telling you, he and Paul had something going, something that could get them both in a lot of trouble.”

  “No. Paul was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a crook.” It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. She couldn’t have fallen for a man not only unable to love, but a criminal besides. “More likely you’re making all this up because it sounds better than the sleazy truth about your death. You expect me to believe Paul and Jake had some illegal scheme going, and the only one who had a clue was their admin assistant?”

  Celia narrowed her eyes. “I may not have done so hot in school, but I’m no idiot. I listened at the door while they were arguing at the estate. Paul wanted a bigger cut and Jake didn’t want to give it to him. Jake left the room in a rage. I’ve never seen anyone so mad. Next thing I know, Paul is hustling me out of there, furious, and we hit the road.” She shrugged. “I thought a little blowy would calm him down. But I’d hardly started when he noticed a car coming up fast behind us. He said, ‘What’s he doing here?’ Like he knew the guy. Then he yanked me up and I looked out the rear window. You know he and Jake bought those matching black Land Rovers? Jake’s was gunning for us. That bastard sideswiped us and we sailed off the side of the mountain. And here I am.”

  “Did the police say anything about another car?” Lawe asked Holly.

  She shook her head, wanting to deny, deny, deny this whole crazy tale, but dread unspooled in her stomach. Celia’s story explained a lot.

  “They weren’t looking, were they?” Celia’s voice rose. “They saw all they needed to. A car smashed from tumbling over rocks and into trees. The driver’s pants around his ankles and my lipstick on his dick. Far as they were concerned, I was to blame. The whole thing was a joke to them, and I was the slutty punch line.”

  Celia’s lips trembled.

  She looked so young. Twenty years old. Not a child. Responsible for her actions. And yet.

  And yet.

  Paul, you bastard. What were you up to?

  “You want to prove Jake murdered you both,” Holly said.

  Celia nodded, hope leaping into her eyes.

  “I’ll help you.” Holly’s voice held the wry acceptance usually reserved for giving in to her children.

  Lawe’s breath exploded out of him. “Holly, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “I want to know the truth about how my husband died.”

  “Thank you…” Celia began, but Holly held up a hand.

  “First, you have to promise not to possess me anymore. Even if I take this off.” She fingered the small leather pouch around her neck. She’d been aware of the scent during the whole confrontation with Celia. The mix of herbs wrapped around her, sweet and soothing.

  “Keep the pouch on,” Lawe said. “It’s more reliable than a promise from a ghost.”

  Exasperation was plain in his voice. Well, too bad for him. That was the good thing about the celibate life. She didn’t have to answer to anyone but herself.

  “Second,” she continued, “leave my children out of this. And if you harm them…” Celia had been the twins’ favorite babysitter, but that was when she was alive. Horror images flashed through Holly’s head. She didn’t know what this ghost was capable of and if anything happened to her children…

  But the shock on Celia’s face reassured her. “I would never hurt Sadie and Theo. I’m not a monster!”

  “Can she hurt them?” Holly asked Lawe.

  “Probably not. She’s not particularly strong. I can salt their bedrooms and she won’t be able to manifest there. I could salt the whole house too, you know.”

  She ignored that and turned to Celia. “They can’t know you exist.”

  Celia nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.”

  “I promise I won’t banish you until we nail Jake. But after that, you’re moving on to the other side.”

  “Sure. Shake on it?” Celia held out her hand.

  Holly automatically reached out. Her hand slipped through Celia’s incorporeal one. Cold froze her fingers and she yanked her hand back.

  Celia cackled. “Sorry, sorry,” she said when Holly scowled at her. “Ghost humor.”

  “Everyone’s a comedian tonight.” Lawe gave Holly a stop-complicating-my-life look, but she didn’t care. This was the right choice, she could feel it.

  “Let’s go over everything you two know,” Lawe said. “And then, Celia, you stay here, while I take Holly to dinner.”

  “What?” Was he asking her out on a date? She’d almost decided she liked the idea when she caught the look on his face.

  No date, then. Lecture, most likely.

  She sighed. Life was better without men, except for all the lonely nights.

  Chapter Three

  “Peaceful out here.” Lawe balled up the wax wrapping from his sandwich and tossed it in the paper sack. A camp lantern provided just enough light to eat by, and a cool breeze whispered through the maple trees, carrying the rich autumn scent to his nose.

  Next to him on the faded plaid blanket, Holly picked at her potato chips. “Do you usually take your dates to cemeteries?”

  He’d spread the blanket on the browning grass next to Celia’s grave. A gust of wind rustled the trees. Dying leaves floated gently to the ground, backlit by a glowing apparition gliding down the row of headstones. Pretty. “Not on the first date. Most women think that’s creepy.”

  First date? How would there be a second or third date when he was leaving in the morning? His missteps tonight kept on coming.

  She ducked her head, a small smile playing on her lips as though she’d gotten the answer to some private question. “After tonight’s events, a picnic in a graveyard doesn’t seem creepy. I’ve got a trampy, juvenile, loudmouthed ghost squatting in my house.”

  “For now.” He tipped his chin toward the trees. “You see anything over there?”

  She followed his gaze to where the apparition knelt at a grave. “No, I don’t see anything.”

  Damn. He’d hoped Holly had his same gift—or curse. Not many people experienced ghosts the way he did, and most, like him, spent way too much time with the dead.

  “Guess it’s only Celia you can see.”

  Her head whipped back to him and she dropped the bag of chips. “Are you saying there’s a ghost over there? Right now?”

  He nodded and she leapt to her feet, craning her neck to peer into the trees.

  “That’s Martin.” He smiled at her enthusiasm. “His fiancée left him for a Green Beret back in the sixties. He hanged himself in the church on what would have been their wedding day. Visits her grave every October. Not sure what he does the rest of the year. Unlike Celia, Martin doesn’t talk much.”

  “And you can see him. What’s he look like? How do you know all this about him?”

  Lawe stretched his legs out on the blanket. “Martin’s wearing a brown suit and tie. Got his hair slicked back all nice and spiffy. His misfortune was he was a quiet, unassuming insurance salesman rather than a dashing Green Beret. His suicide was probably the most dramatic thing he did in his life. Met him the first time I came to Boulder. Got his fiancée’s name from the gravestone and searched the newspaper archives until I found the story. Caused quite a scandal at the time.”

  “I bet.” She glanced around, shivering a little and pulling her sweater tighter. “Are there other ghosts here?”

  “One. In the northwest corner of the cemetery. I try to stay away from her.”

  Holly sank to her knees, those spectacular amber eyes pulling him toward her. Witchy eyes. The kind a man could lose himself in. He deliberately looked away. He tipped a bottle of water to his lips and drank deeply.

  “Have you always be
en able to see ghosts?” she asked.

  “Since I was five.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “My parents and older brother were killed in a car crash. Drunk driver. Since then, it’s been spook city.”

  “Five years old,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Could have been worse. My brother stuck around for about ten years. Sometimes he’d possess me, live a little in my body to make up for what he’d lost. Whenever I moved to a new foster home, he came with me.”

  There was more to the story—a lot more—but he didn’t like to talk about his childhood. He could almost see the questions bubbling in her eyes, not to mention the pity. Time to change the subject. “Have you ever seen a ghost before tonight?”

  Two creases formed between her brows as she studied him, but she didn’t push. “No. At least not like Celia.” She settled herself cross-legged on the blanket and picked up her bag of chips. “I’ve always been fascinated with ghosts and ghost stories. I’ve even taken the Haunted Boulder tour a couple of times. You know it?”

  “Yeah, I’m familiar with it.” That had been his friend Ryan’s idea. A way for him to support a family with his paranormal work. Much easier not to have the family in the first place, but Ryan seemed happy.

  “Paul and I stayed in an old hotel in Paris on our honeymoon, and I swore I could feel a presence in our room.” A guarded look crossed her face, the one she wore when she talked about Paul. “He didn’t believe me. Before tonight, I’ve never seen a ghost in the flesh. Or whatever they’re made of.” She crunched a chip thoughtfully. “Do you think I can see Celia because of whatever you did to get her to stop possessing me?”

  He leaned back on his elbows. The sight of her in the cemetery shadows munching chips and talking excitedly about ghosts made him smile. “This is the first time a victim has been able to see a spirit I’ve evicted.”

  She swallowed a mouthful of chips, stared at him for a moment. “Does that mean something?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m going to talk to some colleagues about it tomorrow. Since I’m banishing Celia tonight, it doesn’t really matter.”

  She leaned forward and laid a hand on his arm, her touch freezing him in place. He had to get out of here before he did something really stupid. Like kiss her.

  “You can’t banish Celia,” she said. “I promised we’d bring her killer to justice.”

  “You don’t need her help to investigate. I’m heading out of town in the morning and I’m not leaving her hanging around when she could jump into your body as soon as you take off that herb packet.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her hand from his arm and he immediately missed her warmth. “I thought you’d help in the investigation.”

  “That’s not what I do.”

  She nodded an I-get-it nod, her amber eyes serious. “You’ve got another client. I understand. I imagine there aren’t a lot of exorcists roaming the country. Not real ones, anyway. Have you googled exorcists lately? Talk about a freakshow.”

  He should keep his mouth shut, but a stupid compulsion to be honest seized him. “Actually, I’ve got a week to get to my next gig. I was planning to head home for a few days.”

  A faint blush tinged her cheeks. “You have someone you need to get back to.”

  Not on this plane of existence. “No. It’s just me and a tiny Seattle apartment with a couple of dead plants.”

  He had a twenty-hour drive back to the cramped apartment he hadn’t seen in three months. A few days of puttering around, then he’d hit the road again.

  Her brows drew together. “So you don’t have to leave in the morning?”

  “Oh, I have to leave. The Haunted Boulder people are throwing their big family Halloween party this weekend. It’s a madhouse. Their whole crazy Irish-Italian clan shows up in costume, kids running all over the place, everyone trying to outdo everyone else with the best ghost story of the year. If I’m not in town, they can’t guilt me into going.”

  “You’re in an all-fired rush to get out of town so you can avoid a party.”

  “I’m not good with the living.”

  The look she gave him confirmed that. “It’s fine. Tell them you can’t go because you’re working on my case.”

  He shook his head. “Your case is done. I’m banishing Celia tonight. If her story’s true, I’m sure you’ll find the evidence you need. Embezzling leaves a paper trail. Find a forensic accountant, turn over all Paul’s papers, and the accountant will take it from there.”

  She folded her hands in her lap, her tight face making him feel like a first-class jerk. “I promised Celia I wouldn’t banish her.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Well, that’s fine. The last person I want hanging around is yet another man so allergic to family stuff he has to leave town to avoid a party.” She stood, brushed the crumbs from her sweater and yoga pants. “Get on out of town. I’ll be fine on my own. God knows I’ve had enough practice.”

  She was comparing him to Paul? An embezzler hated by both his wife and girlfriend?

  He shot to his feet, grabbed her arm before she made it off the blanket. “Hold it. I tried to stop you earlier, but you shook me off and made that whacked-out bargain on your own. Without having the slightest idea what you were getting into by making an agreement with a ghost.”

  “Whatever. Not your problem.” She jerked her arm out of his grip and marched down the row of gravestones.

  He gritted his teeth, way more angry than he should be. She was right. This wasn’t his problem. A smart man would walk away.

  “I’m nothing like your husband,” he called after her, wishing he could smack the stupid out of his head.

  She made a loud sound of exasperation and turned to face him. A half dozen yards behind her, Martin raised his head from his penitent kneel at his fiancée’s grave. The dead insurance salesman blinked, seeming surprised by the noise. That made two of them.

  “I know your type.” Holly planted her hands on her hips. “I married one. Family ties only slow you down, right? Or ties to anyone? How many clients have you tricked into going on dates after you take care of their ghostly problems? A little sympathy, a little moody atmosphere, a quick roll in the cemetery, and then you roll out of town. No ties. No attachments. No family responsibilities.”

  The air sucked right out of him and he stood there, mouth open and mind blank.

  “You’re not banishing Celia.” Holly whirled around, but paused to call over her shoulder, “I’m not letting you back in my house.”

  She cut between gravestones, headed straight for Martin. Lawe swore and sprinted after her, dead leaves crunching under his boots.

  He’d driven them to the cemetery. Did she think he was going to let her walk home by herself in the middle of the night?

  At the end of the row of headstones, she stumbled to a stop and gasped. Martin’s iridescent head poked through her knee and he glared at Lawe before floating off, not huffing out loud but making his annoyance clear.

  Holly clutched her arms to her chest and swung around, shivering. “I walked into a ghost, didn’t I?”

  Lawe reached her. He hesitated, but her teeth were chattering. Screw it. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her. “Yep. He’s giving us a little space now, but I’d bet he’d prefer if we moved on.”

  She glanced down, read the name on the tombstone. “Maisy Oatman. Maisy and Martin. Cute.”

  Martin smiled, a goofy open-mouthed grin that made him look like a panting cocker spaniel. Holly had made an afterlife friend.

  Lawe sighed. “Martin agrees with you. Come on.” He tugged her a few paces away and Martin floated gracefully back to his usual spot, giving Holly another dopey smile.

  “I’m sorry,” Holly said before Lawe could speak. “I was way out of line. What you said about getting out of town so you didn’t have to deal wi
th a family celebration sort of pushed my buttons. But I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

  “It’s okay. You were right. Kind of blunt, but sooner or later most of the women I date riff on my commitment problems.”

  “I’m not letting you banish Celia.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders, moving his thumbs in small, soothing circles. No doubt she was warm by now, but she didn’t pull away.

  “You don’t have a choice,” he said. “I’m not leaving you at her mercy. Sorry.”

  “But you said she wasn’t very strong.”

  “I’m not taking any chances. And I don’t need to get back into your house. After I drive you home, I’m coming back here to dig her up, salt her remains, and burn them.”

  The horror on her face was pretty much the reaction he expected, but the twist of regret in his gut was new. “Not all of my job is fun times with ghosts,” he said.

  “Isn’t that sort of…completely, totally illegal?”

  He laughed shortly. “Yeah. Usually I get permission from the family to dig up the remains, then bribe the funeral staff to look the other way about the fire. But since Celia’s haunting you instead of her own family, the chances of them going for this plan are slim to none. If I’m lucky, I won’t get caught.”

  “And if you do get caught?”

  “Let’s just say there are a couple of states I no longer do business in. It’s not only fear of commitment that makes me a bad risk for a long-term relationship.”

  Why the hell had he mentioned long-term relationships? Give me a shovel. I’m halfway to digging my own grave.

  She gripped his arms, bringing her face close to his, her eyes huge in the moonlight. “I do not want you getting arrested because of me. I couldn’t live with that.”

  “I’m not leaving a ghost free to mess with you.” He tugged a lock of her hair. “Why do you even care about Celia? This is the woman who was screwing around with your husband. And, to be honest, she seems kind of bitchy.”

  Holly smiled sadly. “I got pregnant two months after Paul and I started dating. I’m not sure why he married me, other than at the time he must have thought it would be fun. Even before the twins were born, he obviously regretted his decision. I stuck it out, hoping he’d fall in love with his babies. He didn’t. And now I discover Paul not only didn’t have space in his heart for his wife or his children, he may have been a criminal. I want to know the truth. The truth about him and the truth about how he died.”