Ghost Walk

by Cassandra Gannon

  “Nope.”

  Jamie made an aggravated sound. “You need to go back there and fix this, Grace.”

  “I did just fix it and I’ve never felt better. I’m getting pretty awesome at confrontations.”

  It was lovely to see her standing up for herself, but it hardly made up for the fact she was now unemployed. “How do you plan to eat with no money coming in?”

  She waved that aside as if starvation wasn’t a concern. “Which other girls did you dance with?”

  He tried to catch up with her non sequitur. “What?”

  “At the Summer Ball. Who did you dance with that the killer didn’t target?”

  “I donea know. Some matronly girls, who no one else was paying attention to.” Jamie always tried to make sure every lass got to dance at a party. “What does it matter?”

  “Maybe there’s a clue in his victim selection.”

  The woman made him want to tear out his hair. “He left the other girls alone because they were Sunday school teachers and old maids. He only had an eye for beautiful victims… like you. Which is the whole point of you staying away from 1789.”

  Grace wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, but…”

  “Would you stop fixating on the past and think of the present? You’re now jobless and broke, because of me.”

  “Because of you?” She blinked. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who just walked off the eight o’clock Ghost Tour.”

  Jamie disregarded those semantics, focusing on the big picture. “Before I entered your life, you had an income. You were in no danger of being the target of a killer. You weren’t slipping through time.”

  “That isn’t true. I went back in time last year, before I even met you.”

  If he’d been solid, he’d have taken her by the shoulders, but it was one more thing ghosts couldn’t do. “Knowing me is harming you. Keeping you from living.”

  She shook her head, refusing to admit the truth. “I’m more alive with you around than I’ve been in thirty-two years.”

  “This won’t work.” Jamie persisted. “I’m dead and you’re not. Sooner or later, you’ll want someone with a heartbeat.”

  “No.” She sounded very sure. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  Jamie squeezed his eyes shut. Damn it, she was going to rip him apart. “You should have more than me. You should have everything.”

  “Where is this even coming from?” She demanded. “Things have been fine, up until now.”

  “No, they haven’t. We just haven’t wanted to see reality. What kind of future can I give you? What will happen when your Partner comes and offers you children and a real life?” Either Jamie would have to stand by and watch her love another man or --even worse-- she would walk away from everything she deserved for a ghost. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It won’t work, Grace.”

  “Let me explain about the Partner thing. Then you’ll…” She trailed off and turned to look at him, comprehension dawning on her lovely face. “Wait a second, are you dumping me? Is that what this is about?”

  He nearly flinched. “I’m trying to save you, as you’ve saved me.” The least he could do was return the favor.

  “Except I haven’t saved you, yet, idiot!”

  She’d saved him, just by being born. “It was wrong of me to ask you to solve these murderers. All that matters now is your life. I know you, Grace. So long as I’m here, you will never stop this. Once I go, the investigation is over.” He took a deep breath. “And so I’m leaving.”

  “You’re leaving.” She repeated quietly, her expression shifting. “And going where?”

  “To Heaven.”

  That was lie. No pearly gates were opening for Jamie anytime soon. If he’d been a Rivera, no doubt he’d attribute that to the fact he wasn’t supposed to be dead. Since he was just a Riordan, though, he knew better. God hadn’t forsaken him, but He wasn’t exactly going to welcome him into the clouds, either. This brief time with Grace was the only paradise he’d ever be granted. This was Jamie’s eternal reward and it had been a blessing.

  “You can go to Heaven?” She asked skeptically. “Since when? You told me you were stuck here.”

  “Well, now I feel like it’s time to move on.” He obfuscated, wanting to ease her mind. Ghosts had a few tricks up their sleeves. He could make himself invisible to Grace and she would think he’d found peace. It would be for the best.

  …Then he could haunt her for the next seventy years, hating every man who came near her.

  Grace’s magical brown eyes narrowed slightly. “I know you, too, Jamie. So I know you’re not going anywhere. Even if you could get up there somehow, you don’t want to go to Heaven. Not right now. You want to be here. It’s probably why you’re still roaming around. Why are you lying?”

  “I’m not.” It didn’t sound convincing even to his ears. Jamie was an earthly creature and always had been. Heaven was no doubt a very dull place for a pirate. It wasn’t as if he’d know anyone up there. Truthfully, anywhere would be dull without Grace. “Look, I just…”

  She cut him off. “Is it me? Are you bored with me?”

  “Bored?” He actually laughed at that. “Are you fucking crazy? When would I have time to be bored? Every ten minutes you’re mixed up in some knew lunacy.”

  “Well, that’s not my fault.” She protested, as if he was complaining. “Most of it, you’ve caused!”

  “I know!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I can’t keep doing this to you.”

  “You want to find someone else to help you?” Tears glittered in her eyes, making him feel like a monster. “How? I’m the only one who can see you or hear you or touch…” She paused. “Wait, is it because we touched each other?” She nodded like she’d finally figured it out and wiped at her cheeks. “If that makes you uncomfortable, Jamie, we don’t have to do it anymore. I promise.”

  “Good Lord, no.” It was a mystery to him how the woman’s mind worked. “I’m dead, but I’m not that dead.” He scoffed at the very idea. “Have I ever shown any discomfort at touching you? In any time period? It seems to me, I’ve been the one pushing you, not the other way around.”

  “I don’t mind you pushing.” She said earnestly. “I’m not nearly so semi-frigid around you.”

  Jamie’s mouth curved and he stepped closer to her. “If I could be with anyone --in any century or world-- it would be you, Grace Rivera. You’re the only woman for me. Now and forever. I’ve waited for you for more lifetimes than you can imagine.”

  “Well, what’s the problem then?”

  “The problem is I can’t be with you. Not as a living, breathing man.”

  More tears traced down her face, each one burning through his soul. Fairies weren’t supposed to weep. “But we can still have this and it’ll be enough.” She whispered.

  “It won’t.” Not for Grace. She deserved so much more.

  “So, you’d rather be alone than go on as we are?” She sobbed. “That doesn’t make any sense! Being alone again is your worst nightmare. I know that.”

  “No.” He laid an insubstantial palm against the curve of her of her damp cheek and gave her a gentle smile. “My worst nightmare is seeing you harmed, lass. And I’m going to do everything I possibly can to keep that from happening.”

  Her eyes widened, sensing that this was the end. “Wait!” She tried to grab hold of his wrist, but her fingers passed straight through his hand. “I can figure out a way to fix everything. I know it. Please. Just give me a little time.”

  “No more of your time is being wasted on the dead.” He managed a crooked smile. “It’s my last chance to be an actual gentleman, you know. I gave you my word of honor that I’d leave you in peace on the 4th of July.”

  “Then you owe me three more hours. It’s not even nine, yet.”

  God, he just adored her rule-following, fine-print-reading, scientific precision. “It’s close enough. Now it’s time for you to live your life. Every minute of it.” The backs of his eyes
were burning, even though he was fairly sure ghosts couldn’t cry. “And stop trying to be normal, because you’re not. You’re so much more magical than that.”

  “Jamie, don’t do this!”

  “I love you, Grace.”

  …And with that he disappeared from her sight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  June 27, 1789- Father has hung that dreadful portrait of Eugenia and me over the fireplace, the same way he might hang a picture of his prize horses. Ugh! I shall be embarrassed to look upon it every day. My sister’s pinched lips and disagreeable glower will frighten away all the men who come to call. Not that she cares. No beau will ever seek Eugenia’s hand. Although I sometimes get the feeling she’s set her eyes on one. I pity the poor fellow, whoever he is! As for me, I cannot wait to find a rich husband of my choosing and leave this horrible place for good. Nothing can be worse than living here. I’d truly rather be dead!

  From the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth

  On the morning of July 4th, Grace walked into the Harrisonburg Historical Museum with no intention of ever leaving.

  This was her last chance to go back and fix the past.

  The final day the magic would work.

  Somehow she sensed that, the same way she knew she wouldn’t be able to use Lucinda and Anabel’s blood to travel backwards again. Anabel’s blood wasn’t even there anymore, since she no longer died in the garden maze. This whole adventure had always a one-shot deal.

  And it always circled back to Independence Day.

  Jamie was an idiot if he thought she’d give up this investigation. Grace wasn’t going to quit when she was so close. If there was anything left of Clara Vance’s blood, it would be housed in the museum. Grace’s plan was simply to sneak into the basement and find it. How hard could it be?

  Of course it would be a lot easier if Jamie lent a hand.

  Grace wasn’t thrilled with the idea of breaking into Robert’s workplace alone. Her ex was out of jail and she was fairly certain he’d be nursing a grudge. She wasn’t about to change her plans for that jackass, though. Hopefully, he’d be able to control himself if their paths crossed. It was a public building, after all, and Robert had a reputation to consider.

  Grace warily entered the museum, hating the oppressive place. Even during the town’s busiest week of the year, it was deserted. Most tourists had better ways to spend the morning then looking at dusty Revolution War muskets and rows of Colonial era coins. Old fashioned cases lined the walls, packed full of antique objects and neatly printed cards explaining why visitors should care.

  Only no one did.

  It broke Grace’s history-loving heart to see a whole building full of awesome stuff being ignored. The museum should give it all a second life! Let the objects be important again. She’d tried telling Robert that people might be interested if he updated the displays and added some interactive exhibits, but he’d been horrified by the very notion of technology creeping into his static time capsule. Like all the Harrisonburg Historical Museum directors before him, he wanted to maintain the status quo. Forever. It was why the place had remained virtually unchanged for sixty years.

  It was also why it was always empty.

  Well, except for Grace… and one very pissed off ghost.

  “What the bloody hell are you doing?” Jamie appeared in front of her for the first time in twelve hours, an outraged expression on his face.

  Apparently, he’d been spying on her. Huge surprise. Whether it was some kind of Rivera sixth sense or her connection to Jamie binding them together, she could feel his presence even when he was invisible. Grace might not have seen him since the Ghost Walk, but she’d known he was still around. Heck, she’d known last night that he wouldn’t really leave her. Jamie loved her. The two of them were Partners. It was why she’d given him everything inside of her and why she refused to abandon her mission to save him.

  But she was still furious at the big, huge jackass.

  “What does it look like?” She shot back, shooting him an angry glower. Even whispering, her voice seemed to echo around the deserted interior. “I’m carrying on my investigation alone. You don’t want to help? Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

  “You were supposed to stop all together! T’is why I left!”

  “You haven’t left. You’re just brooding while invisible and it doesn’t suit you. Pirates don’t sulk. They solve their problems head-on or they go down with the ship.”

  “I did solve the problem. Being with me will harm you, so I’m being a goddamn gentleman and letting you get on with your life.”

  “Well, since it’s my life, I can do what I want with it.” She retorted. “And this is not you being a gentleman. This is you being scared.”

  “Bloody right I’m scared. I donea want to see you hurt! How do you not ken the danger you’re in?” He followed her through room full of Colonial era rocking chairs, somehow managing to make himself the aggrieved party in their argument. “You can’t be here, Grace. Robert could be lurking about, watching you on those damn cameras, for all you know.” He gestured to the overhead security system. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, where is your head, woman?”

  “What business is it of yours what I do? You dumped me, remember?”

  “I have never and will never ‘dump’ you.” He snapped. “I told you, I want you to stay alive and to live your life, so I am trying to keep my distance.”

  “You were invisibly brooding in my apartment all night! How is that keeping your distance?”

  “Well, I’m working up to greater distances.” He defended staunchly. “I did not watch you in the shower this morning, which is some progress, at least.”

  “Oh, you did to watch me.” She’d known he would. In fact, she hadn’t even bothered to close the bathroom door, because she’d wanted to torment him at bit.

  “Only for the part where you washed your hair. I’m not made of stone. The point is, I’m trying very hard and you’re determined to screw up my sacrifice.”

  “Sacrifice?” She rolled her eyes. “Please. Nobody asked you to be a jackass.”

  “Nobody ever has to ask me to protect you. The desire is a part of my soul.”

  She glanced up at him, refusing to be taken in by his quiet words. “Well, I’m going downstairs. You can come if you want.” She headed for an “employees only” door, thankful that museum board was too cheap to hire enough guards. “All the evidence from the murders is hidden away on the basement. I helped Robert organize the boxes down there last spring. For free, I might add. Every guy I date is soooo unappreciative.”

  “Donea dare lump me in with that wanker.” Jamie followed her down the narrow staircase, a sulky expression on his face. “You’re the one who does not appreciate what I am trying to do for you. If you had a bloody clue how much I needed you, you would not be so quick to condemn me.”

  “Of course I know how much you need me.” Grace turned to look at him in surprise. “It’s exactly how much I need you. Not that you care, since you dumped me.”

  He scoffed at that. “Why in the hell would you need me? I’m not even here.” He passed his fingers back and forth through the railing to prove his point. “You would be safely tucked away in your pastel apartment right now, if it wasn’t for me. Parting with you is the least selfish thing I have ever attempted and I get no credit for it.” He made a face. “Being a gentleman is even less rewarding than I imagined.”

  “I don’t want you to part from me!” She stopped walking and regarded him earnestly, shocked that he didn’t see what was so obvious. “Why should I thank you for doing something that hurt me?”

  “Hurt you? I would never…”

  “You did! Just the idea of being apart makes me miserable, Jamie. You’re my Partner! My whole life, I’ve been waiting for you to show up and save me.”

  His eyes jumped to hers in astonishment.

  “You’re my Partner.” Grace repeated, when he just gaped at her. “I would have told you that last night if you’d g
iven me a chance. There’s no other man, alive or dead, in my future. There’s just you. Now and forever.”

  Jamie’s resolve to dump her vanished like it had never been there at all. The great thing about dating a pirate was they sucked at being noble. Gentlemanly impulses or not, Jamie’s deepest instinct would always be to grab everything he wanted and claim it for his own. It was part of his scoundrel-y DNA.

  “I’m your Partner?” He demanded, sounding desperate to believe it. “You’re sure it’s truly me?”

  “I’m sure. You make me believe in magic. That’s why I’m doing this and why I’ll keep on doing it, no matter how many times you try to leave me. Because I can’t bear to go back to my boring, lonely life without you. You’re the only one I feel totally safe with.” She gave him a smile. “I love you, too, Jamie Riordan.”

  He moved down onto her step and rested his palm on her cheek. “I love you so much.” He whispered in awe. “So much, I donea have words for it.”

  Grace’s heart swelled. “Does the historical version of you love me, too?”

  “Aye.” He nodded with absolute certainty.

  “So if I travel to 1789 and ask you to sail away with me, will you go?”

  “Sail away with you?” He echoed. “How the hell could you do that?”

  She shrugged. “I’m going to travel to the past and stay there.” That was the heart of her new plan. A way to solve all their problems. “I told you I could think of a way to fix things, if you gave me some time. Well, it took me all last night, but I finally figured it out. You want me to have someone alive? Well, I want you. …And you’re alive, back in 1789.”

  Jamie blinked like she was speaking in tongues. Which her Aunt Veneration actually did sometimes and it sounded nothing like her perfectly reasonable plan.

  “This will work, Jamie.” She insisted when he just stared at her. “So long as I don’t touch Clara Vance’s blood, I’m not going to travel back to the present. And it’ll be real hard to touch her blood if we save her life, catch the killer, and sail off to search for mermaids in Jamaica.” Grace was pretty proud of the idea. She was even willing to wear her stupid tour guide costume one last time, in order to see it through. “I’ve always had a hankering to see mermaids, you know. As an added bonus, you can’t hang if you’re a thousand nautical miles from Virginia.”