Dancing with a Ghost

by Angela Pepper

  She'd see Marco's work and then leave. Once she was safely at home again, she'd tell the detectives on Darlene's case about the photos she'd seen on Tilda's computer. If Darlene had been heading to Spirit Ranch because she'd changed her mind and wanted the photos deleted, there would be evidence. The police would figure it out. And if it was simply a wild goose chase, surely the situation wouldn't be any worse. It's not like Darlene could get any more dead.

  Katie shivered in spite of her layers as she made her way past the social room and down a hallway into the wing she hadn't been yet.

  She knocked on a closed door marked Private Quarters.

  Marco replied with a muffled, “Just a sec!”

  Katie shuffled from foot to foot and took out her phone. She pulled up a phone number for the local taxi service and let her thumb hover above the call button. It would take the cab a while to get there. She would be smart to call now, so she could leave right away, but something made her hesitate. Her thumb didn't want to press the button. Oh, Kitty, said the voice in her head. It was Darlene. Don't get scared now, Darlene said. You're almost there, Kitty. Just a little longer.

  The door in front of her suddenly swung open.

  Marco's face was flushed and his eyes were wide. He looked shocked to see her there.

  Katie looked behind her briefly, thinking maybe Lee or Holly was sneaking up behind her. She was alone.

  She said to Marco, “You wanted me to come meet you here, right? It's been twenty minutes.” She took a step back. “I could give you more time.”

  He looked down at the phone in her hand. “What's that?” He clenched and released his fists. “What are you doing? Are you recording this?”

  “No,” she said. His accusatory tone made her wonder, though, should she be recording this?

  “Come in.” He stood back from the door, waving her in.

  She hesitated before stepping into a recreation room containing a black leather sofa that had seen better days, a large-screen TV, and a stack of electronics.

  He explained ominously, “You've crossed the boundary and entered the Marco Zone.”

  Katie glanced behind her at the closed door. The prospect of being alone with Marco felt wrong on a couple of levels. But she didn't want to be rude, so she walked in and stood near the scarred leather sofa. She remembered something the detective on Darlene's case had told her, about how plenty of women would benefit from being rude, saying no to sketchy offers from strangers and so forth. Being nice could be deadly.

  “My mother calls this the Marco Zone,” he said. “Get it? Like the Twilight Zone.”

  “It seems very comfy,” she said, smiling politely.

  “Yeah, so, the thing is, something came up.” He paced the room, pushing back his red wavy hair with a sweaty palm. His dark button-down shirt had dark circles of moisture under the armpits. “Katie, I need to ask you something. Sit down.”

  She sat on the black sofa. It was even softer than it looked, practically swallowing her.

  “It's about you and Lee,” Marco said.

  Her and Lee. Of course. Marco wasn't blind, and he'd noticed something changing between the two of them.

  Hoping to spare him the awkwardness of asking, she volunteered the information. “Lee and I have been hooking up a bit.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” he said with an eye roll. “It's pretty obvious, and I'm a perceptive guy.”

  He was lying. She didn't know how she knew but she did. “Did Lee tell you?”

  Marco shoved his hands in his pockets. “Uh, yeah, he told me when I was showing him how to make a lizard this morning. He couldn't help himself.”

  “Good ol' Lee.” She shook her head. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Katie's skin prickled. If Marco already knew about Lee, that didn't leave much. But there was today's photo session with his mother. And there was also the photos they'd discovered on her computer, of Darlene posing with Clive—the main reason Katie wanted to leave the ranch immediately.

  He dug deeper into his pocket, and then pulled something out, balled up in his fist. He sat next to Katie on the old black leather couch and thrust his fist toward her.

  She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut.

  “Whoops,” Marco said. “Jeez, you're jumpy, too. Do you know something about what's going on?”

  She felt something fall onto her lap. She opened her eyes slowly.

  There was something small and silver on her lap, attached to a chain. Marco was watching her, watching to see her reaction.

  She slowly picked up the necklace by the charm. It was an ankh, an Egyptian symbol. Ankhs had been a trendy pop culture item in the early nineties, which was something Katie knew because Darlene had told her. Darlene's parents had both been wearing ankhs when they met at a party, and they'd conceived Darlene that night. Darlene's father didn't stick around, but he left behind his ankh, and Darlene claimed that it brought her good luck. Katie had observed that the ankh brought her roommate more than just good luck. Any guy who wanted to talk to Darlene always had a handy question to ask her, thanks to the mysterious ankh. Darlene might just as well have worn a T-shirt that read Come Talk To Me About Whatever.

  “Do you know what that is?” Marco licked his lips and watched her expectantly.

  “It's an Egyptian symbol,” she croaked. “Ankh.” Her throat was tight. The metal didn't feel right in her hands. It should have been warm from Marco's pocket, but it was as cold as ice, so cold it burned.

  This was Darlene's.

  She knew the ankh was Darlene's; she was as sure as she'd been about Marco lying to her a moment before.

  “Your friend Darlene wore one just like this, didn't she?”

  Katie nodded and glanced up at the door. Marco was sitting next to her, between her and the exit. The back of her neck felt as icy as the silver jewelry in her hand.

  “I think maybe this is hers,” he said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I remember her wearing one when she was here.”

  She shrugged and shifted forward on the soft sofa, her legs taut and ready to spring her up.

  “Katie, I was looking for some of my small sculpture pieces just now when I came across this. Do you have any idea why your missing roommate's necklace was in the bottom of my sock drawer?”

  Katie's mouth was dry. Marco's tone had changed. He looked calm enough, but under the surface, he was churning. Boiling. Billowing steam. About to burst apart.

  “Lots of people have those ankhs,” she said. “Every street vendor with a jewelry display in the city has one or two.”

  “Sure, but I don't invite lots of people into my bedroom,” Marco said. “I don't have lots of people going through my sock drawer. Or, for that matter, street vendors.”

  She clutched the necklace in her fist. The cold felt good and kept her steady. “I don't know what to say.” She masked her face with a tight smile.

  “Someone planted this in my room,” Marco said. “On purpose.”

  Katie let his words sink in.

  He continued, “I'm lucky Officer Kendall didn't find it when she was looking for Clive's yellow jacket. Not that the cops around here are that bright.”

  “Marco, do you know something about Darlene? Have you... seen her recently?”

  He let out a staccato laugh. “Just her ghost. I saw it in the kitchen, hanging out with Holly. Do you suppose it was the ghost who put this necklace in my drawer?”

  She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not. Softly, she said, “Ghosts aren't real.”

  “Right.” He reached for the necklace in her hand. “Well, judging by the look on your face right now, you don't know anything about this, so just give it back to me.”

  “No.” Something had taken hold of her, and the words coming from her mouth were not entirely hers. “It's mine. Crux ansata. Everlasting life.”

  He recoiled and jumped up from the couch. He moved quickly for a big guy.

  “No more g
ames,” he said. “I don't like how you've been messing with my head ever since you got here. Flirting with me and then hooking up with Lee. You're mean.”

  Katie held very still. Her whole body was tense, still ready to spring, but not yet.

  Slowly, calmly, she said, “I don't know what you're talking about. Marco, if I've given you the wrong idea, I'm so sorry. You seem like a really nice guy, and I have nothing but respect for you and your family.”

  “Is that why you and your buddy broke into the guest cottage? Because you respect my family?” He let out a rueful laugh. “Yeah, the guest cottage isn't very far from my bedroom window, and you two aren't exactly cat burglars.”

  She turned her head toward the floor and kept her eyes trained on Marco's feet. If he took one more step toward her, she was going to start screaming as she ran for the door.

  “I don't sleep much,” he said. “I see things. I hear things.”

  She nodded and shifted forward on the sofa, all the way to the edge, ready to bolt.

  “I thought you were different,” Marco said.

  She kept her eyes on his feet.

  “Your friend Darlene stirred up a lot of trouble when she was here,” he said. “Everything was a game to her. I'll bet this is all her doing. She's been sneaking around here in the dead of night, moving things around. Did you let her in? Did you drug me with something, to make me think I'm seeing a ghost?”

  The sun set. The light in the room changed. Night was there. Darlene was there.

  A cold fire infused Katie. She was numb yet also on fire. She got to her feet. The words came from her mouth without passing through her mind.

  “Marco, don't be an idiot,” she spat. “Nobody drugged you. If anything, you drugged yourself. This paranoia of yours is a side effect of your withdrawal. That lady cop took your drugs, didn't she? This is what sobriety looks like, Marco. Not pretty.”

  “Katie?” He staggered backward, moving but still between her and the door.

  Her words came out dripping with acid. “If someone planted something in your room, don't you think it was the same person who took your boots?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Katie's consciousness pulled back to a safe, quiet place inside her mind.

  This wasn't her talking.

  This was Darlene.

  “Your boots,” Darlene said, using Katie's mouth. “The ankh. You don't see a connection?”

  “Are you talking about my hiking boots?” He rubbed the side of his forehead with his knuckles. “The ones Clive was wearing on the night of his accident?”

  “Yes,” she said. “And why?”

  He stammered, “Wh-wh-why? I don't know. I'm so confused. Katie, what's going on?”

  “Katie doesn't know,” she said bitterly.

  Marco's mouth fell open.

  Behind him the door burst open, striking Marco on the back of his shoulder.

  Someone else was in the room with them, but Katie couldn't see who. Marco was blocking her view.

  The world tilted sideways, and everything was in motion. Marco tipped off balance and stumbled forward, straight at Katie's body, arms outstretched. Katie's consciousness was still hiding in the dark recesses of her mind, observing the scene without being fully present in her body.

  Was Darlene truly there with them? In her body? Speaking through her vocal chords? Was this the next logical step for a ghost after weeks of standing at the foot of her bed watching her sleep?

  Marco was coming at her. Katie was slow to get control of her body, slow to react, and by the time she tried to get out of the way, it was too late. She was caught in the space between the sofa and the coffee table as she tripped over her own feet.

  Marco collided with her and they both fell onto the sofa, him on top of her. His fist struck her on the bridge of her nose. Pain. The pain was instant. All she saw was white light and then a blur of motion.

  She was suffocating, unable to breathe. The blue sky was turning black. Again.

  Then his weight was off her. She struggled to her feet, her eyes streaming with tears of pain. It's broken, she thought. This is what it feels like when your nose is broken. And then her head went quiet.

  Be calm, Kitty. Think.

  She had to leave the room. Leave the ranch.

  Chapter 27

  Katie managed to get out from underneath Marco, thanks to the person who'd just entered the room.

  Lee Elliot pulled Marco onto the floor, and now he was on top, his hands around the bigger man's neck. Marco made strangled choking sounds while his face turned a deeper shade of red.

  Katie stopped by the door, where she clasped her hands together and twisted them. She could feel her fingers, and she was back in control of herself again. The force that had been controlling her was gone, yet the icy strength of the spirit's anger remained. Stay with it, the ghost urged. Fight for me.

  Katie ran at the struggling pair and pushed Lee off Marco. In falling away, Lee managed to accidentally elbow her in the face. Pain and white light again. If she hadn't been bleeding before, she was now. The pain in her nose was crazy hot. She tasted blood. My blood, she thought, and she was jarred out of space and time for a second. She was Darlene again. She remembered. She was running somewhere. A red ridge. She was going to be killed. Strangled.

  Katie flashed back to the present moment, back to the pain.

  Both of the men were groaning and picking themselves up from the floor, keeping a wary distance from each other.

  Marco sputtered, “You're crazy. Both of you. Whatever meds you're on, they need to up your dose.”

  Lee straightened his clothes and made a tsk-tsk noise as he examined the ripped collar of his T-shirt. Marco's shirt was also torn, half the buttons ripped off. His face was still red, and he had red ridges along his neck.

  “You tried to strangle me,” Marco said.

  Lee didn't respond. He didn't even look at Katie or check on her. He kept staring at the rip that extended along his shoulder.

  Marco puffed up his chest. “I'd like to see you try that again, without attacking me from behind.”

  “I will if I need to.” Lee lifted his chin aggressively and demanded, “What were you doing to Katie?”

  “We were just talking,” Marco said.

  Lee looked at Katie and asked, “Are you okay? I saw him attacking you.”

  She pressed her fingers to her nostrils, catching a dribble of blood. “It's not what it looked like,” she said.

  “You asked for it?” Lee's upper lip curled up.

  “No, you idiot,” she spat. “You hit him with the door and he basically fell onto me.”

  “Yeah,” Marco said gruffly, jutting out his chin and puffing up his chest even more. “You caused this.”

  The two young men stared at each other in silence.

  Katie smelled smoke. Menthol cigarette smoke. She turned to see Tilda standing in the doorway, slouching gracefully as she puffed on a cigarette.

  Tilda said with a sneer, “Looks like your sculpture lesson has stirred up some deep emotions.”

  Lee gave the angular, redheaded woman a sheepish look and stuffed his hands in his pockets in a chastised gesture that reminded Katie of Marco.

  “Mom, someone's messing with us,” Marco said. “One of them planted something in my room. That missing girl's necklace.”

  Tilda looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “Oh, Marco. You don't know when to shut up.”

  “It's an ankh,” Marco said. “That Darlene girl's necklace.” He looked at Katie. “Show her.”

  Katie had already discreetly tucked the necklace into her pocket. She held out both hands. “I don't have the ankh. I must have dropped it when you fell on me.”

  “Oh, Marco,” Tilda said with a weary sigh. “You fell on top of the poor thing? Is that what you're claiming?”

  “It was an accident,” he said.

  “Sure, it was.” Tilda took a long drag off the cigarette. Katie's ears were ringing from her ru
sh of adrenaline, but she could hear the fiery crackle of the tobacco burning.

  “We really were just talking,” Katie said to Lee and Tilda.

  Lee said, “It sounded like he was accusing you of something.”

  “You were listening at the door?”

  He gave her a sad, hurt look. “I was worried about you.”

  “I can look after myself,” she said.

  Tilda spoke as she exhaled smoke. “Katie, do you play poker?” She didn't wait for an answer. “You have a tell, Katie. Something that gives you away. Your lisp. The sloppy way you pronounce the letter S.”

  Katie's hand was still over her mouth, catching the blood from her nose. She'd forgotten all about her lisp.

  “Your lisp gets worse when you lie,” Tilda said. “Like you did just now. You said, 'I can look after myssssshelff.' You're lying.”

  “That's rude,” Lee said, frowning at his mentor. “Katie barely has a lisp, but she's not a liar.” He gave Katie a concerned look. “You're bleeding. Is your nose broken?”

  “I don't know,” she said. “It hurts.”

  Tilda blew smoke rings into the air. “What a mess,” she said, glaring at her son.

  “It was an accident,” Marco said. “We were talking about the ankh, and then I'm not sure what happened. But if I hurt Katie, it was by accident.”

  Tilda took another long puff. Her hand was trembling.

  As she exhaled, she said, “Who's going to look out for you after I'm gone, Marco? Who's going to clean up your mistakes?”

  Marco scowled back at his mother. “And who's going to clean up your mistakes, now that Clive is gone?”

  She scoffed and took another drag. “Clive was my biggest mistake,” she said.

  “I don't know about that,” Marco said slowly. “Was he really so bad? I used to think that Clive Kingfisher was to blame for all my problems, but since he's been gone, everything's been worse around here.”

  “That was his plan,” Tilda said. “That man was going to ruin both of us. That's why he took your boots.”

  “And why he planted Darlene's necklace in my room?”