Foretold (A Ghost Gifts Novel Book 2)

by Laura Spinella

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Arriving at Piper’s office, Levi and Dan passed a red-faced woman with snow-white hair. Levi had the strong impression that the conversation she’d just left wasn’t an easy one. Aubrey sat quietly in a chair. Levi recognized her state of mind—tense, queasy . . . spooked. “Aubrey, are you all right?”

  She nodded but didn’t look up.

  Piper stood near the edge of her desk. “I’m not entirely sure what just happened here, but I don’t think it was good. At least not for Aubrey.” She looked from Levi to her. “Sweetie, I have to ask . . . is . . . did someone or thing indicate that we’re not searching for a live Trevor Beane?”

  Aubrey continued to sit with her elbow on Piper’s desk and her head pressed to her fingertips. They dug in harder. “No. Nothing like that.” She spoke through gritted teeth, eyes closed. Her behavior was evident to Levi—spirit-induced nausea. “I’m fairly certain Trevor’s alive.”

  “Thank God for that much.” She tipped her head at Aubrey, then turned to Levi and Dan. “That was Connie Beane you passed. Mother of the missing teen from the Philadelphia area. I thought a meeting between her and Aubrey might spark some sort of connection.” She crouched, facing Aubrey at eye level. “Can I get you a sip of water . . . something stronger? I have three kinds of bourbon in my desk.”

  “Huh.” The audible grunt came from Dan; Levi and Piper looked at him as he shrugged. “I only have two.”

  Piper turned back to Aubrey. “I’m not sure what or who was here, but I hoped we’d secure ourselves a few more Trevor Beane clues.”

  “Aubrey.” Levi said more forcefully.

  “I’m all right.” But it came out weak. She glanced at him; quick eye contact read as tense. The intimate, unspoken exchange wasn’t the kind of look she would offer to Piper.

  Aubrey wore a deep-rose-colored shirt—new, Levi thought. But more importantly, the bright fabric read like an open invite to any circling entities. “Who was here besides Trevor Beane’s mother? Tell me.”

  Aubrey took a huge breath and sat up straight, flesh tones returning to what Levi might have described as a ghostly tinge. Her jaw slacked as she made steadier eye contact. “Would, um . . . would you believe our old ghost from the house on Acorn Circle, Eli Serino?”

  The next hour was filled with a ghost story, a riveted Dan and Piper listening to the tale of Eli Serino and how he served as Levi’s introduction to what the afterlife held. How early one morning, years ago, a visit to a reproduction colonial on Acorn Circle changed the way he viewed the world. Levi did the majority of the telling, explaining that the whole sordid story dated back to Aubrey’s home portrait days, when they both worked for the Surrey City Press. “Aubrey was desperate for a way of convincing me of her gift. She got more than she’d bargained for.”

  “What I got was an irate specter, desperate to move his energy and looking for a way out.”

  “The specter wanted to use Aubrey as his conduit. The whole scene, the discussion afterward, it was quite a morning.”

  “And even after our visit to the house, my explanation, you still didn’t believe me.”

  Piper and Dan shared a look, which was an odd thing to Levi. In his experience, they didn’t like to share breathing space.

  “Okay,” Dan said. “So I gotta know. What, exactly, happened in that house?”

  “The wrath of Eli Serino’s ghost.” Levi said this as casually as saying, “Pass the salt.”

  Piper appeared gripped by the details; Dan looked markedly more skeptical. He didn’t necessarily buy into the idea—more like a noncommittal hum of acknowledgment. Levi got it; it was a politer response than he had offered years ago.

  Aubrey looked from her pockmarked arm to Dan. “I don’t know how much Levi has told you, but not every spiritual connection is about information or messages of closure. On rare occasions, the entities I encounter would prefer to do more harm than good. Eli was a ghost with an ax to grind.”

  “But as I recall,” Levi said, “as terrifying as he was, he was also stuck in that house.”

  “And what did I warn you about specters and where they reside?”

  “You said eventually Eli would find his way out.”

  “Apparently he has.”

  “So go back to my initial question,” Levi said. “Are you all right, and what the hell was he doing here?”

  “I am—just a tad queasy.” But she sat up taller, looking more like herself. “Eli still harbors a lot of angry energy. But without his family home to back him, it wasn’t nearly as threatening as our meeting on Acorn Circle. It turns out that Eli was a long-ago friend of Trevor Beane’s brother, Derek.”

  “Derek Beane, who plays for the Anaheim Ducks?” Dan said.

  “Oh, here we go—testosterone cues recognition.” Piper rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

  “I think it’s worth noting,” Dan said. “The brother’s a sports celebrity. Might not mean anything to you.” His gaze swooped over Piper. “But that kind of status can lead to all sorts of possibilities when it comes to a missing younger brother.”

  “Why thank you, Agent Obvious. It never occurred to my feminine sensibilities to consider a possible link.”

  The red of Dan’s hair mirrored his face.

  “Not a single thing out of order. Derek has nothing to do with his brother’s disappearance. But if you’d like to check my work . . .” Piper drew her hand across a file-filled desktop.

  “Uh, we’re good,” Dan said.

  “Back to the point,” Aubrey said. “Derek surely connects, just not in a traditional manner. Eli’s presence seemed to be about making damn sure the conversation between Trevor’s mother and me got around to him. But unless Eli’s abducting teenage boys from beyond the grave, I have no idea how he relates to the Beane case—or Liam Sheffield’s disappearance.”

  “Did that come up?” Levi asked.

  “Not in our live conversation, but Eli indicated that he was aware of Liam’s disappearance too.”

  “Really?” Piper said. “So somehow this old ghost connects to the disappearance of two boys, two thousand miles apart.”

  “I believe it does. Eli wasn’t more forthcoming than that. He, um . . . he kind of left the room once Connie Beane acknowledged him, brought him into the conversation. It was more like a clue than anything fundamental.”

  “So wait. Back up a few steps,” Piper said. “His death. What happened to Eli Serino? Was he abducted? Maybe that’s how it all ties together.”

  “Uh, no. Nothing that would fall onto your desk, Piper. You remember that Mrs. Beane said he was a troubled boy, that Derek tried to befriend him.”

  Piper nodded.

  “I’m afraid Eli’s troubles exceeded the healing power of friendship. He killed himself. Hung himself from the foyer staircase. Suicide, as Levi can attest, can result in all sorts of otherworldly ramifications—some bad, others quite heroic.”

  Levi eased back in the chair as very real images of Brody St John filled his head. In that case, his own brother’s suicide had ultimately saved eleven-year-old Levi’s life. The reverent memory of Brody was strong, and for a moment Levi reflected on his own loss. “According to Aubrey, and based on my own experiences, the spirit of a person who takes their own life does appear to revisit with a greater presence, larger agenda.”

  “So like they’re stuck in purgatory, waiting for an opportunity?” Dan said.

  Levi and Aubrey exchanged a glance, Dan having concluded precisely the same thing Levi did when first introduced to the concept.

  “I wouldn’t call it that,” Aubrey said. “They don’t call it that. But there’s definite accountability for those who try to leave this world by their own hand.”

  “Try to leave?” Piper said.

  “An irony of the act, I believe.” Aubrey clasped her hands in a prayerful gesture. “If you need to simplify it as good or bad—those who take their own life are subject to different circumstances. To their surprise, I don’t believe d
eath gets those souls what they truly desired.”

  “Which is?” Dan said tentatively.

  “Resolution to whatever drove them to such desperation in the first place.”

  Levi listened quietly; Dan’s look of disbelief was enough to keep him busy. Aubrey smiled at his befuddled expression.

  “Listen, I don’t have answers that you can verify with a Google search or take to your lab for analysis. I only can tell you . . .” She paused, running her finger across the scar on her chin. “Ending one’s own life doesn’t resolve pain or rectify demons. The reasons why a spirit remains so earthbound after a self-inflicted death . . . I’d say the explanations vary as much as the individuals who take their own lives.”

  “And this Eli kid,” Dan said. “That’s why it played out badly when you visited the house where he died years ago?”

  “Not as bad as some of my encounters,” Aubrey said. “But yes, Levi and I had plenty of signs, if not proof, of a tormented soul.”

  “Eli Serino was a ghost with a lot of anger,” Levi interjected, offering his own take on that day. “That’s not a conclusion I would have imagined offering back then, before that event. And it brings us to now. Other than an old connection to one missing boy’s brother, what does Eli Serino have to do with the disappearance of these two boys?”

  “Wait,” Dan said. “Eli Serino—any relation to Serino Enterprises?”

  “Yes,” Levi said. “Bruno, he’s one of the sons. Do you know the family?”

  “A shorter list would be who doesn’t know that family.”

  “Hmm . . .” A throaty noise of agreement pulsed from Piper. “Even I’m aware of who they are. So based on everything we know, what ties this together?” She looked at Dan. “What’s bringing your John Doe case to my neck-deep ocean of missing children?”

  “Maybe what Dan has in that folder.” Levi pointed. “It’s speculative, but something Aubrey and I came up with.”

  Dan placed a folder on top of Piper’s desk, opening it. They all winced, basic human recoil as a photo of bone and flesh, swamp-eroded green tape crisscrossing the wrists of the remains, filled their collective points of view. Piper picked up the photo, examining it more closely. She moved to a locked cabinet and retrieved two boxes, withdrawing large, marked envelopes from each. She handed one to Levi. From the envelope she held, Piper withdrew a roll of green tape. “This was found at the scene of Trevor’s disappearance.”

  The outside of Levi’s envelope was marked “Liam Sheffield,” and Levi removed a roll of identical tape.

  “So the same green tape as our John Doe,” Dan concluded.

  “My guess is some lab-coat analysis will back that up. And so fill us in on the latest, Agent Dan,” Piper said. “What have you learned about your victim?”

  “Not much more than we did on scene. The natural elements did a number on any physical evidence.” He drew a small notepad from his shirt pocket. “Male, some dental forensic evidence. But nothing telling unless we find the dentist. Coroner concluded his age to be between forty-five and fifty-five. Fingerprints were a total no go. The biggest plus was a faint tattoo. Decomposition wasn’t at an even rate.”

  “Meaning?” Aubrey said.

  “Uh, due to the elements and the victim’s clothing—which fared better than him—certain areas of skin were intact, others . . .” He pointed to the photos of skeletal remains.

  “Sufficient explanation,” Aubrey said.

  “Check out the other info.” Dan pointed, and from beneath the pile, Piper came up with a drawing sealed in a plastic bag. “Our gal . . . sorry.” Dan tipped his head at Piper. “Our lady forensic artist reproduced the tat, coming up with this rendering.”

  They all studied the symbol; Levi had been right in his initial assumption. It was a fancy capital E. “Definitely looks like custom body art.”

  “I’ve got a team scouring tattoo parlors throughout New England,” Dan said. “Maybe one will come up with a hit. But I’d say that’s a one-of-a-kind symbol.”

  “And you can add this to the little we do know.” From the inside pocket of Levi’s jacket, he produced a small plastic bag. “The day we found the body, I found this on the side of the road. Cigar band, I believe.”

  “Withholding evidence?” Dan said.

  “Not really. It got sidetracked that day with Aubrey . . . Pete. I honestly forgot all about it until this morning. I checked the pocket of my shirt before dropping it at the cleaners and bagged the cigar band.”

  “Interesting.” Dan took a closer look. “Arturo Fuente. Pricey cigar.”

  “And you think it ties to your dead body?” Aubrey asked.

  They all stared at the loosely linked pieces of evidence, adding the cigar band to the inventory. “Possibly.” Levi narrowed his eyes at the newer puzzle piece. “That body was found in an extremely isolated area—the middle of a swamp.” He shrugged. “The distant aesthetics were noteworthy. The unique ocean view, private cove with nooks and crannies—million-dollar houses. But other than that, my vantage point, the rural road leading in, would only lend itself to bird-watchers and bikers. I don’t know how many people pass by smoking expensive cigars.”

  “Somebody could have easily tossed it out a car window,” Piper said.

  “Mmm . . . I disagree,” Dan said.

  “Of course you do.” Piper countered.

  “I’m just saying. That particular cigar isn’t like the Dutch Masters you might keep, along with your bourbon, in your desk drawer. You don’t buy them in your local liquor store. You even have to prepare it, cut the tip, toast the foot. A smoke like this is an art—meant to be enjoyed. You don’t light one up while driving.”

  “Interesting,” Piper said. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a cancer-causing agent referred to as art.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried one.”

  Levi was barely listening, another point occurring to him. “Don’t forget the houses in that cove. The upscale development is within a few miles.”

  “And there you go,” Piper said. “Now you’ve got neighbors who might smoke expensive cigars. Perhaps one lit up in his house and decided to finish it while taking a drive in his Mercedes convertible. Either way, I believe that dilutes any connection to your body.”

  “While it pains me not to disagree,” Dan said. “I can’t. And that’s too bad—not only because I so enjoy sparring with the deputy chief here, but I did like the idea of that cigar band connecting to our guy.” Four collective nods bobbed. “So what now?”

  “I suppose we all go pursuing our individual leads, see if they circle back around to one another,” Piper said.

  Aubrey touched the tape, which radiated heat. She touched the grisly photo, which did the same. She looked at Piper. “That’s all fine, but for two people who have nothing in common, you and Dan are dismissing the biggest clue.”

  Piper cocked her head at Aubrey. “That being?”

  “Eli Serino,” Levi said.

  Aubrey smiled brusquely at Levi and their government cohorts. “Séance, anyone?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dan headed out first, fielding phone messages, his giant strides putting him a good distance ahead. That was fine with Levi, who stopped Aubrey midway through the parking lot. “There is another angle here. Something I didn’t want to bring up in front of Piper or Dan. Something you refuse to consider.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Zeke Dublin.”

  “Levi, Zeke has nothing to do with any of this—a John Doe or those missing boys.”

  “How can you say that? He works for Serino Enterprises. He just happens to be in town. At the very least, it’s remarkable timing.”

  “Remarkable how?” She folded her arms. “Thousands of people work for Serino Enterprises. Are they all under suspicion? And suspicion of what, exactly? To think Zeke knows anything about the disappearance of two teenage boys . . . it’s ridiculous.”

  “I wasn’t necessarily thinking of
Piper’s cases. Hell, based on what just happened back there, I’d be more inclined to suspect a dead Eli Serino.”

  “I believe you can count out a dead Eli as much as a live Zeke. Spiritual entities, no matter how unpleasant, aren’t capable of kidnapping.” Yet Aubrey’s glare, which continued to skewer him, told Levi she was far from finished. “And neither is Zeke. It’s absurd. File it under ‘unrelated circumstance.’”

  “I agree that Zeke, in all likelihood, is not tied to the disappearance of those boys. But as for our John Doe . . .”

  She huffed in reply.

  “Don’t let sentiment cloud your judgment, Aubrey. We do have a dead body found not that far from here. I know a little about Jude Serino; compared to his brother, his business practices aren’t what I’d call squeaky clean.”

  “So what’s your plan? Throw everything remotely connected to Jude Serino on the wall, see what sticks, including Zeke.”

  “Stranger things have been determined with less. How about we add some green tape to the clues, see how that sticks together?”

  “Clever, Levi.” She narrowed her eyes. “Too bad you’re out of the headline business: The Green Tape Caper.”

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ve no problem approaching this from the status of hard facts.”

  “Here we go,” she muttered.

  “First, Zeke Dublin shows up in Surrey with impeccable timing, just as a dead Eli Serino elbows his way into the conversation. Point two: While it’s a bizarre clue, there’s no dismissing green tape located at the vanishing point of both boys. From there, it grows even murkier when the same tape turns up binding the bones of a dead body in Maine. I can’t connect any of it just yet, but I also find it fascinating that”—Levi arched his arm past Aubrey—“all this occurs as your gift starts to mirror your father’s. A man who had secrets and ghost gifts, things no one knew about but your grandmother, her dead husbands, Yvette, Carmine . . . and Zeke Dublin.”