Ghost Walk

by Cassandra Gannon

  Serenity apparently did, though.

  “Oh.” Her eyebrows soared. She glanced in Jamie’s direction again, this time with less hostility. “Well, if you’re sure, I’ll see what I can do to save the boy. He does have a nice, strong energy signature. Usually means a man’s hung like a race horse.”

  Jamie’s mouth curved. “Why, your aunt really is psychic.”

  Grace looked towards the cobweb covered ceiling, like she was praying for patience. “Don’t encourage her.”

  “He’s agreeing with me?” Serenity guessed. “Of course he is. I’m always right.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Did she tell you what it means when a Rivera finds their Partner, Ghost?”

  “No.” Jamie answered, even though she couldn’t hear him. He wanted to know everything there was to know on the topic, so hopefully Serenity would keep talking.

  “Aunt Serenity…” Grace began warningly.

  Jamie cut her off, before she stopped her aunt from gossiping with him. “Let the woman speak, lass.”

  “This has nothing to do with our plan.”

  “Your plan. I’ve been quite clear on wanting you to stay right here in the present. …Not that you’re of a mind to listen. All of this madness is you refusing to see reason.”

  Grace had linked this time travel idea to fixing her “burn out.” In her mind, if it worked, she wouldn’t be crazy. She could resume her old life and reclaim her job solving crimes. Nothing could derail her now, so he was reluctantly going along with her wishes. At least she was showing a bit of optimism.

  “I’m going to clear your name, Jamie. Two days ago, that was all that you wanted.”

  “Two days ago I hadn’t seen you naked. Now I want other things. Like you alive and well and coming beneath me in bed, again and again and again.”

  She flushed a bright shade of pink and glanced over at Serenity, like her aunt might have somehow heard his suggestive remark.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he loved it when she blushed. And when she didn’t blush. And every other blasted thing about her. If he’d still had a heart in his chest, this woman would’ve owned every beat of it.

  Jamie cleared his throat. “So my only plan at the moment is to listen to what your dear auntie has to say.”

  “I knew she didn’t tell you.” Serenity interjected in a smug tone, correctly interpreting Grace’s part of the argument. “Gracie’s always been a bit shy and Partners can be a… intimate thing for a Rivera.”

  The thought of Grace becoming intimate with some unknown mortal had his jaw clenching. Goddamn it, he was the one proved she wasn’t “semi-frigid” or whatever the fuck that wanker Robert had claimed. Every intimate thing about her belonged to Jamie, by right of conquest.

  “When our family finds a Partner, it’s like finding our other half.” Serenity explained. “A Partner is the person who helps us. Stands beside us. Completes us. Keeps us safe. We need them. Understand?”

  Jamie’s stomach sank. Every word she said was like a bullet in his gut. Shit, it was worse than he even thought. Grace needed this man. How the hell was he going to compete with that?

  Grace looked incredibly uncomfortable with Serenity’s speech. “Just make the potion, Auntie. I’ll deal with my Partner, alright?”

  Serenity made a “humph” sound and went stalking off to gather her ingredients. “How are you going to get the living version of the boy to swallow this potion, if he doesn’t even know you back then?” She called. “Have you thought about that?”

  “I’ll figure it out when I get there.” Grace’s brow puckered and she looked at Jamie. “Maybe I can slip it in your drink or something.”

  “Just ask me to swallow it. It’s far easier.”

  “Ask you? What are you kidding? You think you-of-the-past is going to drink a mystery liquid from some strange girl, just because she asks?”

  “If the strange girl is you…?” Jamie shrugged. “Probably. Should I hesitate, just offer to let me touch you in dirty ways. I guarantee you, after that, I’ll agree to eat very sharp tacks, if you ask.”

  “You have a one-track mine, Jamie.” She pointed to a stool carved to look like a spider. “Sit over there and stay out of trouble.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Grace went back to the ancient book, absently fiddling with her necklace. For the first time since Jamie had known her, Grace she was wearing a piece of jewelry. A small silver pendant dangled from a chain at her neck. It was a round disc with a mermaid engraved on one side. The whimsy of the piece struck him a very good sign, considering how she viewed anything that even hinted at individualism as “abnormal.” Maybe she was gaining a bit of confidence.

  It took about half an hour for Serenity to come back into the room, carrying a vial of green potion. “Okay, this should do the trick. Once he drinks it, the old-him will get all the memories of the ghost-him. For all intents and purposes, they’ll be one person.”

  “For how long?”

  “Forever. Can’t reverse the potion, once he drinks it. Don’t know how long it will take to kick in, though. Like I said, there’s not a lot of research into this kind of magic.”

  “Thank you, Auntie. I’m sure it’s perfect.” Grace’s finger tapped something in the book. “Ah-ha! Here we go.” She ripped out the page, disregarding her aunt’s exaggerated wince. “Okay, put the potion and the book on my tab.” She grabbed the vial from her aunt, kissed her cheek, and headed for the door again. “And I expect the family discount on magic, so don’t try to screw me over on the herb costs.”

  According to Grace, for a family that was always broke, the Riveras loved to overcharge people. Maybe that was why they were always broke.

  Serenity didn’t look thrilled with the idea of fair pricing. “Where are you going now, Gracie?”

  “Wherever this map leads.” She held up the faded piece of paper.

  “Then, you should change out of that outfit, first.” Serenity advised. “It might be someplace fancy. And, even for this town, you look ridiculous going out in public dressed like Dolly Madison’s fashion-victim of a cousin.”

  Chapter Eleven

  June 25, 1789- Father likes to say that Eugenia is the brains of our family.

  I’m not so sure about that. How could I get away with half of the naughty things I do, unless I was far more intelligent than people give me credit for?

  From the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth

  Grace slammed the front door of the shop shut behind her, defiantly plopping her costume’s straw bonnet on her head. “It’s a mystery why I didn’t run away, years ago, and join the circus. It would have been so calm and normal in comparison.” She dropped the memory potion into the pocket of her apron and rubbed her forehead. “I’m really sorry about earlier, by the way. My aunt takes this whole Partner thing seriously.”

  “No doubt she should.” Jamie said quietly. His eyes scanned the street, just in case Robert showed his wanker face. The damn police had called that morning to say they’d released the man, so he could be anywhere. It made Jamie uneasy. “A Partner is clearly a serious thing.”

  Grace glanced up at him through her lashes. “You believe her, then?”

  “Yes.” There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Grace’s Partner was coming to claim her. A man would do anything to have such a woman beside him. Kill, bleed, die, beg… And once that bastard finally fought his way to her side, he would take the only thing in the universe that Jamie loved.

  Unless Jamie figured out a way to stop him.

  It was disconcerting to be on the other side of things. To be the one fighting to keep what he treasured. Everything Jamie ever had in this world, he’d stolen. Even his ship had been won in a damn game of cards. All his valuables were plunder that he’d taken for his own, by being stronger and smarter and luckier than the fellow who’d lost it. Nothing had ever truly been his.

  Not until Grace, with her incredible hair and Sunday school teacher frowns.

  Grace was quiet fo
r a long moment. “So I was thinking…” She fiddled with her portable phone’s decoy earpiece, even though nobody noticed that she was apparently talking to herself. Conversing with a ghost didn’t cause nearly as many odd looks as you’d fear. Citizens of the modern world were too wrapped up in their own issues to pay much mind to anyone else’s. “What do you think will happen when we clear your name? Do you think that you’ll --like-- ascend into heaven or something?”

  Jamie scoffed at that idea. “I highly doubt heaven will have me.”

  “But, there would be no reason for you to be a restless spirit.”

  “I’m not a restless spirit.” Maybe he had been, but finding Grace had eased him. She was the reason he’d stayed in this earthly realm for so long. Meeting her brought all of it into focus.

  He’d been waiting for Grace.

  When she’d traveled to 1789 and he’d seen her with his mortal eyes, he’d experienced the same exact feeling he got when he looked at her now. An overwhelming sense of recognition. Of happiness. Of relief that that she’d finally arrived. He’d always been waiting for this small, uptight, obstinate woman. Alive or dead, there was no one else for him.

  For Jamie, there was just Grace. Now and forever.

  Grace took a deep breath, still looking distressed. “Maybe you’ll just disappear if we solve these murders. Maybe none of this will have even happened. And, I know that I said I wanted you to vanish out of my life, but… I’ve kinda changed my mind.”

  That was gratifying to know. “I am not going to leave you, Grace. Not if I can possibly help it. I told you that yesterday.”

  Even though a ghost had very little to offer a living woman.

  Whoever Grace’s Partner was, he could protect her from Robert and give her children and share her future. Jamie’s future had been buried for two centuries. She didn’t need him here, complicating her life. She didn’t need him at all. No matter his feelings, was it right to have Grace waste her existence on a dead man? She deserved more. She deserved…

  Jamie shook off the idea before it could take deeper root.

  He didn’t want to think about any of that or he’d eventually reach a conclusion that would kill him all over again. Goddamn it, he couldn’t just hand her over to some fucking Partner. He couldn’t. Maybe she didn’t need him, but he needed her desperately.

  “You’re sure you’re going to stay?” She persisted.

  Jamie’s jaw ticked. “I’m sure I want to stay.” He temporized and that seemed to alleviate her worry.

  It didn’t do a damn thing to ease Jamie’s.

  Selfish or not, he had no intention of walking away from his salvation, though. Jamie might not be welcomed through the pearly gates, but he’d still been granted a miracle. As much as he’d tried to ignore his father’s religion growing up, his belief the spiritual world had taken deep root. God would not have brought Grace to him, just to snatch her away again. No. She was the one being in the whole of his life and death that belonged solely to Jamie.

  …Or maybe he belonged to her.

  However you looked at it, there was a purpose in their meeting. A rightness. A grand design. Grace was where Jamie was supposed to be. He had to believe that.

  “So, we’re following a map?” He prompted, wanting to focus on something he could actually fix. If there was one thing Jamie excelled at, it was maps. He craned his neck to look down at the yellowed page and then swore. “Oh bloody hell. Is that one of Ned Hunnicutt’s abominations?”

  “I knew you were going to say that. You have an unhealthy fixation with that poor man.”

  “That jackass was the worst cartographer in the Colonies! Plus he watered down his ale and treated his serving girls badly.”

  “So, you’ve said. Repeatedly.”

  “Because it’s true.” He gestured to Ned’s laughable scribblings with a disdainful sweep of his hand. “Wherever that is leading you, it’s no doubt in the polar opposite direction of where you want to go. The man couldn’t find east if you pointed him towards the rising sun.”

  “It’s not as if there are a lot of two hundred year old maps around to choose from, Jamie. We’re going to have to make do.” She held up the poorly-rendered sketch for him to see. “Now, Anabel Maxwell was last seen in the hedge maze behind the governor’s mansion. This is a diagram Edward Hunnicutt drew of the hedge maze from that same year. It’s going to help us retrace her route.”

  Jamie made a face. “Knowing Ned, it will no doubt zigzag us about for several dizzying hours and then drop us down a well.”

  “Have a little faith.” Grace headed down the cobblestone street, toward the governor’s mansion in the center of town. The imposing brick building was impossible to miss. Set back on a wide lawn, it had been designed to awe and intimidate visitors. “The hedge maze is still here, but we can’t be sure it’s growing in the same pattern. That’s why we need the map.”

  Jamie couldn’t imagine ever being desperate enough to “need” one of Ned’s lopsided renderings. But, Grace clearly wasn’t going to listen to him, so he stopped arguing about it. It was a lovey summer morning, Robert was nowhere to be seen, and Jamie was walking beside the love of his life (and death). There was no sense in ruining the moment.

  All around them, Harrisonburg was preparing for the 4th of July celebrations. Workers were erecting a stage for the concert that would accompany the fireworks display. Vendors were already setting up booths around the park to hawk “authentic” baskets and cool lemonade. A lady in a white apron was selling bouquets of sunflowers.

  Jamie slowed his steps, his eyes on the bright yellow blossoms. He wished he could buy some for Grace. She should have beautiful things. Back in his own time, he could’ve given her anything her heart desired. He’d had more gold than he could spend and he would have lavished all of it on his bride. It was frustrating that he couldn’t do that now.

  A new thought occurred to him. Hang on. Maybe he could.

  “If we’re going to be using maps, we should use mine.” He said, brightening. “Grace, we should find my map.”

  “Oh Lord…” She rolled her eyes like she thought there was something impractical about a hunt for pirate treasure. “Let it go, Jamie. I have enough craziness dealing with the lost recipe for troll powder.”

  “I’m serious.” He insisted, excitement filling him. “My map is real and it’s surely still around someplace. No one in this blasted town throws anything away. We just need to locate the spot I buried my fortune and dig it up. That would see you secure for the rest of your life.” He arched a brow. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have chest full of gold and gems to spend?”

  “Sure. I could build all my unicorn friends a sparkly new castle for our tea parties.”

  He frowned at the sarcasm. “The treasure isn’t a fantasy, Grace. It’s somewhere near here, hidden under the ground, and all of it belongs to me. To you. All we have to do is find it and you’ll be taken care of forever.”

  She didn’t seem enthused by the prospect of being Fuck-‘Em-All rich. “Let’s just concentrate on solving the murders, okay?” She flashed her Harrisonburg employee ID at a guard and was waved through the massive gates of the governor’s house.

  The flat-fronted Georgian building was the largest structure in Harrisonburg. It had been called the governor’s “palace,” back when Virginia was still part of Britain, and the name wasn’t far off. The white mansion was huge, with lavish formal gardens and rooms full of gilded furnishings. It was the one building in town Jamie understood people wanting to tour while on vacation. The outrageous opulence of the place suited his personal style to a T. In the waning years of Oprah and before Haunted High started airing, his favorite show had been MTV Cribs.

  In his opinion, the governor’s home would have made quite a striking state capital. And it would have been just that, except Thomas Jefferson had hated living there, when he was governor, and moved the capital to Richmond in 1780.

  Tom had always been an ass.

  “The
hedge maze is this way.” Grace headed down a set of shaded steps. “You probably know that. Were you here back in the day or was there a ‘no pirates allowed’ policy?”

  “If you’re handsome and rich and notorious, you’re welcomed everywhere.”

  She sent him a dry look. “Which means you totally broke in to steal stuff.”

  “Just small stuff.” He winked at her.

  “Scoundrel.” Grace stopped in front of the maze’s entrance, which was blocked off by a chain. A sign dangling from it read: “Do Not Enter Without a Hedge Maze Host.”

  It was easy to see why. Ahead of them, paths stretched off in three directions. The labyrinth was made of American Holly, to discourage anyone from pushing through the plants Bart Simpson-style, and dense enough that you couldn’t see through walls. Given its massive size, you could easily be wandering around in there for hours.

  Especially, if you were following Ned’s half-assed instructions.

  “They used to let school trips in here, but they had to stop a couple years back.” Grace said as if reading his mind. “The teachers kept missing their buses, because kids would get lost.”

  “Perhaps we should take note of that and forget this plan.”

  “Perhaps not.” Grace retorted. “If there’s any evidence left of Anabel’s murder, this is where it will be.”

  He studied her for a beat, his mind still dwelling on his impossible love for her. “Do you like children?” He asked, unable to stop himself.

  “Sure. My family has a ton of them running around. My niece Joy once turned my car into a pink Barbie Corvette, which kinda pissed me off, but they’re mostly great to have around.”

  Jamie sighed. Of course, she liked children. She deserved to have two or three of them underfoot, breaking the already broken knickknacks in her home and filling her life with magical chaos.

  …And she would never, ever have that if she was with a dead man.

  Grace studied the deplorable excuse map for a beat and nodded, missing his growing misery. “So far so good, too. The maze is starting in the same place now as it did back then. Do you remember it?”