Haunted Love

by Jessica Frances

  My anger finally changes direction from being frustrated at Thea all day to the coward who took this young woman’s life. He used his physical strength to take advantage and brutally attacked her. He picked on someone smaller because he himself is weak. He is a bastard. He laid his filthy, worthless hands on a woman, and that fucking pisses me off!

  “Do you remember anything else?” I ground out, sounding angry. I watch Thea wince, as if my tone is directed at her.

  “No, sorry.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to sound more at ease to keep her talking comfortably. “Okay, tell me about Nate, then. What is his last name? What was your relationship like? Have you had any contact with him recently?”

  Even though she’s just been speaking to me about the night she died, she seems to be even more uncomfortable talking about Nate. Why? What happened to her? What did this guy do to her?

  She pulls her legs up on the chair and hugs her arms around them, making her seem smaller again. “I haven’t heard from Nate Hargrove since we broke up. The last time I heard about him, he was living with his new girlfriend. I met him through a friend at work when I was doing work experience. One of the other teachers went to college with him. They met for drinks after work one day, and a few of us were invited to join them.”

  “What was your relationship like?”

  “It was great at first. Nate was … He was sweet. He was thoughtful, and I don’t think it was an act. We were young together, and we grew up very quickly. Unfortunately, he changed into someone I didn’t like very much, and we decided to go our separate ways.”

  “Was he abusive to you?”

  “He never laid a hand on me,” she slowly answers, leading me to think she worded that purposely.

  “Why did you mention him this morning, then? There must have been a reason you brought him up to me. Your brother mentioned him, too. What about what he said?”

  “I had no idea Flynn felt that way. He never said anything to me. He is right, though; I knew that, when he moved back here, I couldn’t still be with Nate.”

  “Why?”

  “Because … God, this is hard.” She stands, pacing in front of me.

  “Just spit it out, Thea,” I snap, thankful when she lets her anger at me take over. It appears to be an easy way to loosen her tongue.

  “Because he was controlling, and he scared me sometimes. He started to control who I spoke to, where I went, what I wore. He was getting jealous of anyone I even looked at, and I could see the road we were heading down. I needed to get out. I didn’t want to let Flynn down, so I decided to get out before he knew what was going on. Flynn has always been my responsibility, ever since our parents died. I knew Nate was on the verge of trying to control how much I could speak to Flynn, and that wasn’t going to fly. I always promised Flynn I would never leave him, and I intended to keep that promise, so I cut Nate loose. He was angry at first, mostly shocked I think, but he knew it was coming, and he moved on. End of story.”

  “So this ultra-controlling guy was just fine with you calling the shots and breaking up with him?”

  She shrugs, still seeming angry. “Yes. It probably helped that he started dating his assistant soon after. That is who he’s living with now. Or, at least, who he was living with the last I heard. I don’t speak to Thom, the guy who introduced us, anymore.”

  “What possessed you to be with a guy like that, anyway? As far as I can tell, you have one hell of an attitude and mouth on you.”

  “Are you judging me right now? Seriously?” She slams her hand down on the table, making my plate jump.

  If others were with us, would they see that, too? How can she be so real? Aren’t ghosts just transparent energy that floats through walls? At least that’s what Casper the Friendly Ghost looked like. Yeah, why doesn’t she look more like Casper? I think I might be less freaked out by that.

  “Right, moving on. Any other exes I should know about? Was there any suspicious behavior you noticed leading up to yesterday? Any parents acting a little odd or angry with you? Have you received any mail or phone calls that were unusual?”

  “I’ve only had the one serious relationship, and there has been no one since Nate. I didn’t notice anything strange, and I’ve been paying attention because of the serial killer. Actually, how are you so sure it wasn’t him?”

  I pause, wondering if I should tell her the truth. I at least owe her that, even if it is hard to hear. Maybe it will remind her how important this is that she doesn’t distract me while I’m working her case.

  “Because you were found in your home; you weren’t taken to a second location. You were beaten, which while the other victims had some bruising, none were as violent as yours, and you were in one piece.”

  I watch her wince, and then her eyes narrow on me. In those eyes, though, I see fear and panic growing.

  “Wait, the news said those women were raped. You forgot to mention that difference.”

  I watch her body shaking again, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she collapsed at this point. I stand, moving closer to her, but I don’t make it in time before she falls to the ground.

  “No, no, no, no … that can’t … no … no!”

  I crouch down in front of her as she sobs. She has touched me plenty of times since she appeared in front of me yesterday, mostly to hit or slap me, but this is the first time I’m reaching out to touch her and not just checking to see if she is real. I’m not sure if I hope I still can touch her or if I hope to move through her body. I fear that, once I offer her any sort of comfort, a wall will be knocked down between us, one I would rather stayed up.

  Pushing aside my trepidation, I stretch out my arm and touch her gently on her shoulder. She flinches from my touch yet doesn’t move away.

  She feels cold, though I’m not sure if it is because she’s a ghost or if shock is setting in.

  “I don’t know for sure, but it was mentioned that it was possible. I’ll know more when the M.E. has a chance to perform an autopsy.”

  While she begins to truly howl, I mentally berate myself. Mentioning her autopsy isn’t likely to calm her down.

  “I can’t believe … this can’t … Why has this happened to me?” she asks, crying even harder.

  I stand up, leaving her momentarily to find a throw that I keep over my couch. I walk back over to her, wrapping it around her in case this is shock. Then I pick her up, marveling at how light she feels, and move her over to the couch where I place her down gently and then step back from her, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

  “Do you, um…? Do you need anything?” I wonder if I have just asked her a stupid question. Can you even get a ghost anything?

  “Can you call Flynn? I want to speak to him,” she begs.

  “He won’t be able to hear you,” I remind her, feeling like an asshole to deny her.

  “I just want to hear his voice.”

  “He’s grieving, Thea. Let him do so in peace. I promise that, in a day or so, I’ll check up on him, okay?”

  She nods, breaking eye contact with me as she hugs the blanket closer to herself.

  “So, nothing else stands out? No one entered your house recently that you didn’t know?”

  It takes a while for her gaze to focus again, and I try to be patient. Didn’t I just promise Grandma today that I would be nicer? However, it takes all my patience and then some not to snap my fingers in front of her face to hurry her along.

  “A man came into my house last weekend to install cable. He seemed a little creepy. He stared a lot, but that’s it.”

  “Okay, that is something.”

  I move over to my desk and pull out a pad of paper and a pen. Then I move back over to her and hold them out. I again wonder if she will be able to hold them, but she manages it. I probably shouldn’t be surprised by this, since she did cook me dinner and make me breakfast this morning. Maybe my house is haunted, too?

  “Write down which cable company, what you remember about him, and then
the names of any guys you’ve seen hanging around you in the past few weeks, even if it was someone you know and trust. I want every name. Then write down where you’ve been in the past few weeks. Cinema, grocery store, the fucking zoo—write it all down.”

  I leave her, eager to get away from the emotional woman yet also hoping to leave my own anger behind. I have been angry at Thea the ghost since she appeared. Now is not the time to start feeling bad for her. Even though she is really here, she’s still not real. She will disappear at the end of this case, and hopefully, my life will go back to normal.

  I sit back down at the table, forcing myself to find my appetite and finish the meal Thea prepared. Even cooled, it still tastes better than anything I could have cooked.

  I listen to her scribbling along the paper, and she soon finishes and hands it to me. She is completely silent, and I frown at how quiet she is. Why do I want to annoy her so I can see some fire back in her eyes? Am I actually considering initiating her anger?

  I must be crazy.

  ***

  The next morning, Thea acts more like her frustratingly annoying self. She cooks me breakfast again, and I remember to thank her this time.

  I make some calls, getting word from Jones that he did have uniforms talk to Thea’s neighbors. Apparently, they saw nothing, heard nothing, and had no idea anything was amiss until the police and ambulance pulled up. It turns out, the evidence collected was a bust, too—no foreign fingerprints and no evidence useful that was collected from the body. This guy might as well have been a ghost, himself. They got one shoe print, which is basically useless. I can’t question every size eleven shoe wearing male in the state. Although, to get rid of my ghost problem, maybe I will have to.

  I have the surveillance tapes waiting for me at my desk, so I have a fun afternoon of going over every traffic camera in the area, hoping to see something that stands out. If this guy drove to the scene, he didn’t park his car in the street. I ask if Jones can get the uniforms to spread their search wider and try the nearby streets.

  The phone call wasn’t a total loss. I mentioned to Jones about Brice Tower, the cable man, and he remembered seeing the name. I hoped maybe his name was on a previous rap sheet that Jones recalled, and maybe this might be our guy. Unfortunately, he recalled the name because the guy had been arrested on Sunday night. He was only released from lock-up yesterday, which means he was sitting in jail during the murder, waiting for a friend to bail him out. At least, one suspect can be crossed off my list, which only really leaves Hargrove.

  Thea couldn’t think of anyone else, and the other names on her list are people she assures me are nice. I obviously can’t completely trust her judgment on that—some people are just good liars—but it doesn’t bode well. Besides, if this was a stranger, then I’m going to have even less chance of catching the asshole.

  If this case turns cold and remains unsolved, does that mean I will have Thea attached to me forever?

  I shiver at the thought, sending a silent prayer that this will be over soon.

  After I get Nate Hargrove’s address, I grab my things and head to my car.

  Thea is being quiet again, appearing nervous. She’s staring intently out her window as she sits in the passenger seat.

  Even though I attempt to bite my tongue, I can’t stop myself from engaging with her.

  “You’re quiet.” I wait for her response, which I don’t get. “Are you pissed off at me?” I take a guess, knowing there is a definite chance I’ve angered her.

  “I’m hoping I’ll disappear,” she says quietly.

  “You want to go away forever?” I say in surprise, awkwardly sounding a little excited about that.

  Is she going to say goodbye now? I know I’m probably an asshole for wishing she will go away, but the sooner she does, the sooner I can begin to feel sane again. I will still go after her killer with everything I have—I will even look in on her brother—I only want her gone.

  “No, at least not yet. I just don’t want to face him.”

  “Hargrove?” I frown, again taking notice of how much she reacts to this guy. So much for having moved on from him. Just from her worried reaction alone, I feel like I probably will want to punch the guy in the face.

  “I just never wanted to see him again. I have been able to be absent for some things with you, and I kinda hoped I could be absent for this, as well.”

  “Just leave the room, or if you have to be in there, block your ears and close your eyes. He can’t see you. He can’t touch you or hurt you.”

  “But, if he’s the killer, then I need to hear this. And maybe I’ll catch something that you miss. I know how he thinks. I know when he’s lying.”

  “Then consider this situation like a Band-Aid. It needs to be ripped off, and the sooner and quicker we do this, the better you’ll feel.”

  “You just want to hurry up and find the killer so you can get rid of me.”

  “Do you not want justice for what happened to you? Or do you want to forget this?” I snap, wondering why it is a problem or surprising that I want to get rid of her.

  “No, you’re right.” She takes a deep breath, and then I hear her mumble, “I just wish I could forget Nate…”

  With my curiosity high over who this guy is and if he may in fact be the murderer, I type his address into my GPS and follow the prompts to his address, feeling the nerves flying off Thea as we get closer to his home.

  When I find the one-story house, I notice how average it appears. Why is it most of the bastards in this world appear so normal? His house should scream predator if Thea’s story of their relationship is any indication as to what this guy is like. I know the type, and Thea is lucky to have gotten out when she did.

  Unless he’s the killer, then I guess she didn’t get away fast enough.

  I knock on the front door, my hand grazing the gun strapped to my hip, and Thea shuffles nervously next to me. After another round of knocking, a man finally opens the door, his annoyance at being disturbed evident.

  The man is taller than me with impeccably styled hair, his arms crossed angrily over his chest, and while I’m not a fashion expert, I know the suit he is wearing is expensive. I know straight off that appearances are important to this guy.

  “Hi, my name is Detective Aiden Mercer, lead investigator for the murder of Theresa Bell. Do you mind answering a few questions for me?” I flash my badge at him.

  “Thea is dead?” Hargrove gasps, quickly standing back and leaving the door open for me. He looks shocked and maybe even a little sad, but I sense some insincerity within him. Or maybe Thea has simply made me biased.

  “Yes, her body was discovered late Monday night,” I tell him, watching his reaction for any guilt, but he gives me nothing. He only stares at me blankly.

  “That’s awful.” He pauses, his gaze moving around the room, almost as though he’s lost for words. “Would you like a drink?”

  “I’m fine.” I keep my eyes on him, aware that Thea is standing directly behind me, as though using me as a shield. What the hell?

  “Right. Well, please take a seat. What questions do you have for me?”

  “As I said”—I sit down slowly, watching Thea briefly and noting she does not sit down. She’s pacing slowly behind the sofa, away from Hargrove—“I’m investigating her murder. I know you two dated, and I would appreciate it if you could give me your whereabouts for Monday between the hours of five and eleven p.m.”

  Hargrove taps his chin, his entire body appearing at ease. Either he’s a psychopath, completely cocky, or innocent.

  “I believe I was home alone. My fiancée is out of town at a work conference, so I don’t have anyone who can verify, unfortunately. I had a headache and went to sleep early.”

  “He used to get migraines all the time when we dated. He’d blame them on me,” Thea whispers behind me.

  “Why aren’t you at the work conference if your fiancée works for you?”

  “How did you know she works for me?�
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  “I have my sources.” I shrug, knowing I can’t tell him my source is a ghost.

  “I didn’t go with her because something came up here.” His smile is thin, and I get the feeling he is hiding something from me.

  “He never travelled anywhere outside the state when he was with me. Once, I went to New York to see Flynn, and he chickened out at the last minute,” Thea quietly inputs.

  “You didn’t make any phone calls from your phone?” I ask, wondering if I should see if the techs can triangulate his cell phone.

  “Like I said, I had a headache and went to sleep early. If your memory is this bad, perhaps you should be writing this down.” Hargrove sneers, his gibe at me taking me completely by surprise.

  “Such an asshole,” Thea snaps. Her obvious frustration eases my own. If Hargrove is the killer, then I will get my satisfaction when I arrest the bastard.

  “I’ve had reports that Ms. Bell ended your relationship almost six months ago. Have you had any contact since then?”

  “Actually, I think you’ll find that I did the breaking up. Poor girl, she was devastated, but it had to be done. She was just so clingy and, to be honest, quite boring. We were purely in a relationship of convenience. We met through a friend, and I didn’t want to make things awkward for him. But I met Audrey and knew she was the one, so I ended it with Thea and left. She did try to contact me afterwards, begging to get back with me, but I declined to respond. Eventually, she gave up, although I’m sure she never truly was able to get over me.”

  I hold my breath, unable to believe anyone can actually be that conceited or full of themselves. I can see through his lies completely.

  Thea starts screaming obscenities at him, so that is all I can hear. She’s apparently moved beyond her fear of being close to Nate and is currently trying to slap him. Regrettably for her, her hand keeps moving through him.