by Lotta Smith
I relayed her response.
“Oh really.” Rick opened the baggie to slide the ring inside.
“Don’t do that, please!” Marion complained, almost shrieking. “If the ring’s put inside the bag, I won’t be able to see my surroundings.”
“Rick, can you wait a moment before putting the ring back into the baggie?” I said, and then I turned to the ghost. “Will it help if you could see the neighborhood on the way to the next destination?” I asked.
“Of course, it would be very helpful.” Marion nodded strongly. “I might be able to recall something very important. I’m presuming that’s what you’d appreciate, isn’t it?”
Marion had a point, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure about carrying a multimillion-dollar ring so casually. It didn’t take rocket science to foresee a danger of theft. It wouldn’t be pretty if we got robbed and lost the ring again—perhaps for good.
I wondered if I should wear the ring. Under normal circumstances, I would, but I wasn’t thrilled about such an opportunity. First of all, I wasn’t keen on putting myself in grave danger by putting on an allegedly notorious haunted ring that caused mayhem and tragic deaths to its past owners. Besides, considering my predisposition to having more intense communication than an average person, I was afraid I might be taken over by the ghost of the ring.
Without words, I searched for Jackie. It was exactly the kind of moment when I needed her moral support, but she wasn’t around. Considering her chilly relationship with Marion, I wasn’t shocked though. Perhaps Jackie was busy watching some rehearsals of off-Broadway productions, featuring many hot naked guys. She used to be a budding Broadway actor, and even after her death, theater stayed her passion.
As Rick and I stood groaning, the glass door of the confectionery opened abruptly, and the person who came out was Alice Wunderlande, of all people.
For a split second, I hesitated whether to say hello to her or not. Alice was hard to miss. On this day, she was wearing a short white dress with small floral prints and Jimmy Choo sandals with sky-high heels. Rick was quicker to respond as he pulled me close to him, turning away from his birth mother. Neither of us spoke, but I could feel he was practically praying that Alice would go without seeing us. But of course, she noticed us.
“It’s you! Hi, Amanda, Rick! What a surprise to bump into the two of you!” Alice scurried to us, almost jogging and holding a small box with the store logo and colorful flowers printed on it.
“Hello, Alice.” I did a little finger wave at her, and she responded with a dazzling smile. Just like her son, she had a perfect set of pearly whites.
Alice waved back at me, and then she turned to Rick. “Hi, Rick, darling! I’m so glad that you dropped by to meet me. You know, you’ve been such a mama’s boy,” she cooed, prompting her son to flinch.
I bit my lower lip. Not that I hated Alice’s guts, but I was trying my best not to snort out laughing. I’d never seen him so flustered yet clueless. Under normal circumstances, he should be driving others crazy, but this time, he was driven crazy. To my amusement, his cheeks were slightly flushed. Seriously, it was truly refreshing to see such a reaction from my usually poker-faced fiancé.
Rick took a deep breath, looked at Alice, and cast a glance at me, saying ‘Don’t even think about chuckling’ without actually uttering the words. He took a deep breath one more time. “Actually, we’re here just for work. By the way, I thought you were a vegan,” he commented, glancing at the box. “If I recall it right, they use fresh cream and milk collected from the cows who might or might not want to get pregnant in the first place. Oh, don’t forget about the poor chickens who were enjoying their free-range life in the country until evil humans came up and stole their eggs.”
“Darling, you don’t have to be so sarcastic!” She chuckled. “Sometimes I can’t resist my cravings for real dairy and eggs, you know.”
“Oh really?” Rick raised an eyebrow. “In that case, you can forget about serving vegan food at our wedding.”
Marion was looking at Alice with curious eyes. “Who’s she?” she asked, turning to me.
“She’s his biological mother, but his late stepmom raised him. It’s complicated,” I replied in a stage whisper.
“Aha! Family dramas never cease to exist.” Marion nodded again and again.
“You’re cranky this morning.” Alice tilted her head to the side, facing her son. “Why don’t we go back to the bakery and eat the cakes? They serve really lovely cakes made from fair-trade ingredients.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” When Rick shook his head, Alice noticed the ring in his hand.
“Look at that. This is so beautiful. Why are you carrying this around?” Then she looked at me. “It looks like the kind of ring that should enhance Amanda’s smooth, flawless hand.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. That was the nicest thing I’d ever heard from her.
“Because it’s evidence for a case we’re—” Rick started to explain, but before he finished the sentence, Alice was picking the ring up. “Hey!” He grabbed for her hand in an attempt to retrieve the ring, but she was fast.
“Don’t worry, honey. I’m just borrowing it. Ta-da! Look at it,” she said proudly, showing off the sapphire ring on her finger. “Isn’t it divi—” Alice didn’t get to finish the sentence. She stopped talking and moving altogether, as if she were frozen into a statue.
CHAPTER 6
“Hey?” Rick looked into his mother’s eyes. “Don’t tell me you suddenly feel sick, like you’ve just been poisoned.”
Alice, on the other hand, was silent, and then she started trembling. The paper box fell from her hand. As it hit the sidewalk, a cyclist went by, running it over. She didn’t seem to notice what had just happened and kept staring down at the ground.
“Alice, are you okay?” I asked, coming close to her. At that moment, I was afraid she might be having a sudden illness, such as a heart attack or stroke. She had the look of a younger woman and seemed to be extra-mindful about her diet, but “When you get ill, you get ill” was the golden rule that I learned during my medical education.
She didn’t answer my question and bent over before dropping to the ground.
Rick grasped her. “Alice? Are you okay?”
“Perhaps we need to call an ambulance,” I suggested. Apparently something wasn’t right with Alice. “Given her age, you can’t be too careful.”
“Maybe.” Rick frowned, cradling Alice in his arms. “Mandy, can you call 911, please?”
“Yes.” I nodded, taking the phone out of my purse.
“Oh no. No need to call the ambulance,” Alice said in a muffled voice. She was clutching onto Rick like a koala clinging to the trunk of a tree.
“Still, you want to see the doctor and have yourself checked out,” Rick said, still holding her. His voice was laced with concern. “After all, you’ve just fainted.”
“No way. I didn’t faint. It’s just….” Suddenly, she started giggling like a giddy schoolgirl flirting with her crush.
I furrowed my eyebrows, feeling something wasn’t quite right with her. I didn’t know what, but I knew something was out of norm.
She looked up at Rick and went on. “I was having a little difficulty adopting myself to flesh and blood. You know, it’s been over a hundred years since I’ve actually had a body, but it’s marvelous to be held by you.”
Somehow, she seemed to have developed a French accent, enunciating words like having, hundred, had and held as ’aving, ’undred, ’ad and ’eld, omitting the hs.
“Flesh and blood? What the hell are you talking about?” Rick squinted skeptically. Stretching his arms and taking some extra distance from her, he looked into her eyes. “Seriously, if you’re playing with me, impersonating someone whose body is possessed by a hundred-plus-year-old ghost, that’s not funny at all.”
“You think so?” Alice cocked her head to the side, flashing an enigmatic smile.
“Who are you?” Rick gasped. He turned away f
rom her and looked at me. His face was slightly blanching. “Who is she?”
“Well….” I stared at Alice Wunderlande, and I saw Alice herself, but at the same time I could see Marion, the ghost of the haunted ring. “Uh-oh,” I muttered.
“What uh-oh? Don’t tell me…,” Rick said through the gritted teeth, but he didn’t finish the sentence, as if he was afraid of making his worst fear come true by saying it aloud. “Mandy… I need some explanation.” He clasped my arm, looking at me. I’d never seen him looking so unsure.
“Um… there’s good news and bad news. Which one should I begin with?” I said.
“Let’s start with the good news.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “This time, you can talk directly to the dead person.”
“And the bad news is?”
“Your mother’s body has just been hijacked.”
“Hell.” He slapped his forehead with the base of the palm.
“Hello, Rick! I’m Marion. It’s so wonderful to meet you!” Alice—or rather, Marion possessing Alice’s body—cooed and clung to him.
“What the…? Hey, stop that! I’m gonna sue you for sexual harassment!” Rick pushed the girl ghost, who was attempting to kiss him on the lips, in his mother’s body.
“Oh really?” Alice grinned fearlessly. “A hotshot FBI agent suing his own mother for sexual harassment? How brave of you.”
She had a point. Apparently, people like judges wouldn’t see this situation as we did. In my—and obviously Rick’s—opinion, the ghost of a haunted ring attempting to kiss him against his will qualified as sexual harassment. However, from the perspective of other people, such as a judge, it would have counted as just a sign of affection between a mother and son. Besides, I couldn’t imagine the court would take it kindly if he sued a ghost.
“Hell,” Rick muttered. “Mandy, stop rolling your eyes,” he said without looking at me.
“I’m not rolling my eyes,” I lied, rolling my eyes.
“She’s lying,” Marion informed Rick.
“What?” Rick turned back to me, shooting daggers at me.
“No. She’s lying,” I said.
“Whatever!” He turned to Marion, demanding, “What did you just do to the owner of the body you’re currently possessing?”
“I don’t know.” Marion shrugged. “But the last time I sneaked into a total stranger’s body back in Paris more than a hundred years ago, the woman hosting me seemed to be fine as soon as I got out of her. She had no memory of the time while I overtook her, but she didn’t drop dead or anything. After all, her husband decided not to purchase the ring, complaining that his wife was acting in a bizarre manner when she was trying it on.”
“Oh yeah?” Rick narrowed his eyes. “Then why do I feel so uneasy about your clarification?”
“Don’t worry, she’ll wake up as soon as I’m out of her,” Marion reassured, patting Alice’s body. “So, where’s my next destination?” she asked breezily, as if she was on a sightseeing tour or something.
“Fine.” Rick snorted, ripping Marion’s hands off his body. “Let’s get the job done.”
“Hello? Why don’t you treat me better, like taking my hand and showing me over the town? You’ve been much more affectionate with that woman,” Marion protested, indicating me with the tip of her chin.
“Her name is not ‘that woman’!” Rick snapped. “By the way, if you wanted to flirt with me, you should have possessed Mandy. You had a better chance of flirting with me if you sneaked into my fiancée rather than choosing my biological mother who walked out of my life when I was three years old.”
“What? You’re getting married to her?” Marion raised an eyebrow at me disapprovingly.
“Hello?” I interjected. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m right here and I’m not deaf. Will you guys stop talking about me as if you’re gossiping about someone who’s not here?” The fact that the ghost did that using Alice’s body was a little bothersome to me. No, I lied. Actually, Marion dissing me in Alice’s body bothered me big-time.
“Sorry about that.” Rick touched my hand.
Clasping his hand, I took a deep breath. Looking at the map provided by Agent Woo, I said, “Let’s go to the next place.”
Rick glanced at the map over my shoulder. “So, the next spot will be this one on East 65th?”
“I guess so. This one looks the closest from here.” I nodded.
“Wait a moment,” Rick said. “I’ll go talk to the concierge to check if they have a Mrs. Miller. I don’t trust that ghost.”
I snorted, laughing.
“What?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh nothing,” I said. “I just thought you’d now understand how I’ve been feeling about interviewing dead people.”
“Right. You have a point.” He nodded.
We went inside and talked to the concierge. It turned out that there was a Ms. Miller, but she happened to be in her thirties and she was seen going to work by the concierge.
“All right. Now let’s go to the one on East 65th.” Rick turned on his heels and I followed.
“Um… excuse me?” Marion said. That time, she sounded somehow less pushy. “I’d appreciate it very much if you’d allow me to take a moment to sample some cakes from the shop over there. And if you tell me to just eat the cakes out of the crushed box, I will haunt all of you for good. I’m not threatening you. It’s a promise.” Her eyes were practically locked on the confectionery.
Rick looked at her and then at the dumped box. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll let you eat the cakes, so you will fully cooperate with us. Is that clear?”
“Yes, I promise!” the ghost occupying Alice’s body said, bouncing like a little kid. “Mrs. Miller used to have those cakes called cupcakes delivered often. I always wanted to try some.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, we were walking down East 65th Street, heading for the next destination.
“This is the one listed on this street.” Rick stopped in front of a building with ground-floor galleries. The exterior of the building wasn’t exactly white. It was beige-ish, something between beige and ivory. According to the signboard attached to the building, the ground floor was occupied by a group of galleries, along with a café.
“This one isn’t exactly white,” I commented. “Does it look familiar—” I was about to turn to Marion, but…
“Ahhhhhh!”
I caught someone shrieking from inside the gallery, and the voice was familiar to me.
“Help! Mandy, help!”
I gasped. “Jackie? Is that you?” I hurried to the entrance of the gallery, but one of my upper arms was grasped with strong force.
“Watch out!” Rick barked, still gripping my arm.
“What?” The moment I turned back to him—
Whack!
I heard something heavy crashing, and the sidewalk where I was standing literally shook, as if the place was hit by an earthquake or something exploded nearby.
“Wha—” I opened my mouth, but I could only utter incoherent sounds.
“You’re welcome,” Rick said, turning me in the direction I was heading for.
“Th-th-thanks,” I mumbled, leaning on him. Not that I was playing weak and delicate, but my legs were trembling and seriously wobbly. I might have collapsed if he weren’t there to support me.
In front of me, at the very part of the sidewalk I was about to step on, there were thick, twisted metal frames lying on the ground. The metal bars were contorted like melted candy bars. This alone was enough to indicate the severity of the incident, but around the deformed metal were shards of plastic boards and smashed lightbulbs.
I shivered. The apparently heavy signboard had just smashed down to the ground, and it could have flattened me like a pancake.
If it wasn’t for Rick grabbing me, I would have been dead.
“Thank you, Rick. You literally saved my life,” I muttered in his arms, leaning my head onto his chest.
“My pleas
ure,” he said. “By the way, that’s one more reason you shouldn’t sign the contract with the feds on your own.”
I had no choice but to agree with him. “Right. You’ve got a point.”
As we stood there, trying to catch our breath, people came out of the building. The smashed signboard was attracting spectators from the neighborhood.
“What the hell?”
“It looks like the signboard fell off.”
The spectators chatted and took photos of the smashed signboard with their phones. Some of them went so far as taking selfies with the crashed metal frame.
“Are you okay?” A man in a well-tailored suit and gray hair hurried toward us. He introduced himself as Jason Kirkland, the owner of the group of galleries. “Should I call an ambulance?” he asked with palpable concern in his voice.
“I don’t think so,” I said, moving my hands and legs to make sure nothing hurt.
“Are you sure?” Rick looked into my eyes.
“I’m good. Thank you,” I said.
“That’s wonderful. I’m so relieved.” Then Mr. Kirkland spoke to a young woman. “Hey, Cindy. Can you go back to the office and call the property management company? I’m coming. I have to file a serious complaint.” Shaking his head, he excused himself.
As soon as Mr. Kirkland was out of earshot, I searched for Jackie. “Hey, Jackie. Where are you?” I called to the thin air in case she was hiding.
“Is she here?” Rick asked.
“I don’t know. She’s not answering me.” I shook my head. “But a moment before the signboard fell, I caught Jackie calling my name. She sounded like she was in trouble and needed my help.”
Listening to me, he turned to Marion. “Hey, did you hear Jackie’s voice?”
“Jackie? Oh, the ghost dressed like a clown, right?” Marion replied. “No. I didn’t hear her voice. Perhaps it’s just her imagination.”
“Hmm… how strange.” My eyebrows furrowed, and I caught a guy in a white chef’s coat talking to a young girl sporting a beige café apron.
