by JL Bryan
“That is good news. It sounds like his disease might have been a symptom of the haunting.”
“It fit with the whole drowning and dripping thing going on in that house,” I said. “Gord was so grateful, he created this for us.”
“That’s my cue to unwrap it?” Calvin asked.
“That’s your cue.”
Calvin tore off the brown paper wrapper.
Inside was a large painting, about three feet high, of an antique candy tin. The tin was labeled “GHOSTLY GUMBALLS” in big, cartoon-scary green letters. The image on the tin showed an apparently haunted gumball machine. Several pastel sheet ghosts floated around inside the glass globe. One mischievous little ghost was leaning out through the partially-raised candy door at the bottom, as though plotting his escape.
“That’s fantastic,” Calvin said, with an amused smile.
“I almost took it home without telling you about it. Where should we hang it? The front room?”
“I guess we could use a decoration of some kind out there. Good news about the client healing up, too.”
“It makes me feel much better about sending an invoice. We kind of left their house a wreck, lots of damage.”
“No more ghosts, though.”
“No.” I hesitated, then I told him about what had happened while I was drowning, the brief glimpse of Anton Clay with his fiery eyes. “Why do you think I saw him?”
“That’s probably just your brain, flashing back to the first time your life was in danger,” he said. “Inside the mind, time is based on feelings, not clocks. Whatever you feel most strongly about can seem very immediate, even if it happened many years ago.”
“Just a memory,” I said. I nodded. The alternative, the idea that Anton had somehow been able to reach out to me when I was on the verge of death, was too chilling to consider. It remained a possibility, though, with some chilling implications about how connected I was to that evil pyrokinetic ghost.
I stood up. “I’ll hang the painting tomorrow. Stacey wants me to come to her apartment. She says it’s some kind of emergency.”
“She has an emergency and you’ve been sitting and chatting with me?” Calvin asked.
“I don’t think it’s a house-on-fire emergency,” I said. “She has a date with Jacob tonight.”
“Oh, good. Fraternizing among the staff. Nothing bad could come of it.”
“Jacob’s just a volunteer, though. So I guess he can date whoever he wants, right?”
“Whoever he wants?” Calvin raised his eyebrows. “Why would you phrase it that way?”
“What are you asking me?” I asked.
Calvin regarded me for a moment, then said, “What about your romantic life? Anything interesting on the horizon?”
“Nope. The horizon’s all just empty sky.”
“Maybe--”
“Please don’t try to scrape up somebody for me to date,” I said. Then I smiled. “I appreciate your concern, Calvin.”
“I just don’t want you to be lonely.”
“Now you sound like my aunt. It’s not your style.” I kissed him on the temple as I left.
“Ellie,” he said. “Don’t let death consume your entire life.”
“Thanks, Obi-Wan.” I waved as I left the office.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“What do you think of this outfit?” Stacey asked me, turning in front of her closet. Stacey’s room was decorated with her nature photography, like deer and hawks, and pictures of her family. Her kayak was stored near the ceiling, suspended on ropes. “Light summer dress over jeans?” she asked.
“Where’s he taking you?”
“Blues in the park, supper at Moon River,” she said.
“Lucky,” I said. Moon River Brewing Company had some great kinda-organic American fare with lowcountry and Creole influences. “Watch for ghosts. That place used to be the City Hotel—it’s really haunted.”
“That’ll give us something to talk about. So, should I wear this, or--”
“Wear that,” I said.
“Seriously? Because I was also thinking--” Stacey reached for a shirt hanging in her closet.
“No, you nailed it the first time. Slam dunk. Hole in one. Other sports analogies.”
“You really think so?” she asked.
“How would I know? Why don’t you ask your roommates?” I pointed toward the door. Beyond it, a couple of girls were talking and laughing in the living room. “I’m literally the last person to ask about fashion.”
“Yeah, but you and Jacob are so alike,” she said, dropping onto her bed beside me.
“We are?” It would be an understatement to say I was surprised by that idea. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, you know, y’all kind of have the analytical-left-brain thing happening.”
“He’s a psychic.”
“And you’re a ghost trapper,” Stacey said.
“I prefer to keep it scientific, though.”
“And he’s an accountant by day. You see what I mean?”
I didn’t. “So you’re saying I should date Jacob?”
Stacey laughed. “No, I just want your opinion on what to wear.”
“And now you have it. You’ll have fun. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re pretty.”
“Aw, thanks.”
“Shouldn’t I get out of here before he shows up?” I stood and moved toward her door. “It could get awkward.”
“Why?”
“Just because, work talk, you know? Could be a distraction.” I was feeling strange about the situation, getting into everybody’s personal lives. “So unless you wanted to ask me about your shoes or something...”
Why did I say that? Of course she did, and of course she owned a heap of them.
Eventually, I got out of there, leaving through the gated front door as I stepped onto Abercorn Street. The sidewalk took me past old brick and stone houses with impressive columns and elaborately sculptured trim. These quickly gave way to smaller, less impressive houses, with wooden porch posts instead of neoclassical columns, some of them converted into little shops. Massive trees grew everywhere, screening the old buildings with yards of Spanish moss.
I felt weirdly jealous of Stacey. Not because of Jacob—maybe there had been that moment, right after he’d helped me off the balcony railing, when I’d felt something, but Stacey had always been interested in him. I wasn’t so sure about dating a psychic. I can imagine several drawbacks...like possibly hearing my thoughts. No, thanks.
Still, I was jealous. I wished somebody interesting were taking me out that Friday night. Instead, I’d fold laundry with my cat.
It was dark out, and my senses were keyed up as I approached my car. The old black Camaro that Dad had bought less than a year before he’d died. His trophy car, celebrating some kind of promotion at his construction firm. I missed both my parents so much.
Walking along the streets at night in Savannah, it’s not unusual to hear footsteps following you, only to turn and see nobody there. Or you might pass somebody in oddly old-fashioned clothes on the street, only to blink your eyes and have the person disappear entirely. Voices, music, laughter, screams—the past and present mingle freely here, as do the living and the dead.
As far as anyone could tell, I might have been just one more lonely ghost haunting the old city, paying no attention to those I passed, lost in my own memories.
I thought of my parents, and my friends, and Stacey offering to hook me up with one of her college friends. Maybe I would take her up on that. My nights alone were growing a little too long, and they could use a little light.
From the author
Thanks so much for taking the time to read Cold Shadows. If you enjoyed it, I hope you’ll consider leaving a review of this book (or the first one!) at the retailer of your choice. Good reviews are possibly the most important factor in helping other readers discover a book.
The third book in the Ellie Jordan series is already in the works. I hope
you’ll continue the adventure when that book releases in February 2015!
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Thanks for reading!
More by J.L. Bryan:
The Ellie Jordan, Ghost Trapper series
Ellie Jordan, Ghost Trapper
Cold Shadows (coming November 28, 2014)
The Crawling Darkness (coming February 5, 2015)
The Jenny Pox series (supernatural/horror)
Jenny Pox
Tommy Nightmare
Alexander Death
Jenny Plague-Bringer
Urban Fantasy/Horror
Inferno Park
The Unseen
Science Fiction
Nomad
Helix
The Songs of Magic Series (YA/Fantasy)
Fairy Metal Thunder
Fairy Blues
Fairystruck
Fairyland
Fairyvision
