“Hardly,” Faith said, dropping to her knees with the box in hand. “I need to solve her murder.”
“You aren’t a cop,” Keaton reminded her.
“You and Jimbo are.” She smiled and took the lid off the box.
“Right.” His lips twitched into a smile as she took out a leather pouch. “Sorry for being rude, but not sorry for canceling whatever date the doctor was trying to set up.”
“Oh, you didn’t cancel it.” She grinned. “You just delayed it. I’m seeing him later tonight.”
Before Keaton could protest, she opened the bag.
Spirits flew out of the satchel. The movement blew her hair like a gust of wind that stole her breath.
There wasn’t just one member in this spiritual team; there were ten.
These ghosts were like none he’d ever seen. They wore long dresses that floated around their bodies. Their hair waved in the air as if they were underwater, instead of settling down by their shoulders.
Darkness covered their faces as if Keaton’s vision had blurred while trying to make their features. They formed a tight circle around the area.
Keaton’s breath caught. It was one thing to protect Faith from any threats, but supernatural threats were another matter entirely.
“What the….”
“Aw, tell me you didn’t open it. Did I miss it again?” Jimbo asked from just inside the tree line where he’d been looking for clues. His gaze went up above Faith's head in the middle of the clearing. It was painfully obvious that he couldn’t see these creatures. If he had, he wouldn’t have stuck around.
They flew in the circle, occasionally dipping down and circling her too.
Keaton flexed his hand to stop from reaching for her and pulling her back out of harm's way. He needed answers.
Chapter 7
Keaton could see them too. I hadn’t been sure of it until just now by the look on his face as he watched the old hags showing me respect by flying around my head. He didn’t know who they were, much less why I’d been able to call them out.
He took a step in my direction, and I held out my hand to still his movement. These century-old women and spirits weren’t to be trifled with. The first time I’d opened the satchel in Mary’s presence, they’d attacked and left scratches on my arm. Since then we’d found common ground because Mary was now it spirit form.
She was the last in her witchy line. The last they’d been waiting on before they could be released into the light. Only now, they needed me to solve a murder. The only thing holding them all back was Mary’s reluctance to let go.
“I’ve brought the detective just like you asked,” I said toward the leaves in the trees.
“I’m here,” Jimbo announced, and yet the women all stared at Keaton.
He rested his hands on his hips and stared up at them as if ready to question inmates about their previous crimes, only not knowing where to start.
One broke formation and circled Keaton, blowing on his face. The tips of his hair moved.
His square jaw tensed, but he didn’t even flinch.
I was impressed, and even more than that, I’d been right. He could see them. Which meant he’d probably heard Jared claim he didn’t like him and understood my response.
It didn’t matter if he knew. It didn’t matter what he said. The only thing that mattered was helping me free these souls by finding Mary’s killer.
“You showed me the way to your house. Now show me where your body is.” He turned to Mary as if knowing she was the one we were looking for. Maybe he did.
She pointed a finger in the opposite direction of the trail we’d walked through.
“She answered,” I said, clapping my hand in delight.
“She did?” Jimbo asked.
“Well, she pointed in that direction, so I’ll take that as a sign,” I said, patting Keaton on the back. “Well done. She wouldn’t tell me when I asked. It seems she’s been waiting for you.”
Over leaves and fallen branches, we hiked through the thickest part of the woods. My arms were scratched, and sticks were catching in my hair. Thirty minutes later, we stepped onto the shoreline of a fresh water pool, fed by a small waterfall.
The area was secluded. It lacked human contamination. Minerals and rocks twinkled at the bottom of the water.
I’d lived in this town for years, and I’d never even known this spring was here.
“Whoa,” Jimbo said.
I’d reached down to cup the water when Keaton stopped me. “You don’t know what bacteria is lingering in that water.”
I smirked. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“There could be high level of minerals too.”
Mary appeared in front of us just as I dumped the water from my hand. She pointed to the waterfall. “Just as the moon settles into the sky. Only between two and three is the time that you can see.”
“Looks like you’re going to have to call off your date.”
“I can be done and back out here by then,” I said before explaining the reason we’d need to return to Jimbo.
Back in the clearing near Mary’s house, I sat down next to the shoe box and opened the satchel again. I whispered words of thanks, they all swirled around in front of me like a tornado before descending into the bag. Mary joined them this time. I pulled the drawstrings closed and nestled the bag into the white sage inside the shoebox.
I’d promised to protect them even though I wasn’t a witch or a gypsy. It was still my job as her friend to complete the final ceremony.
They dropped me off back at my house, and though I’d assumed it would take threats of bodily harm to get Keaton to leave, I would have been wrong.
He left without a single word. Maybe the spirits I now knew he could see had actually scared him off. They’d scared me, too, when the satchel had been given to me, along with the request of how to handle it after Mary’s death. It was almost as if she knew that day was fast approaching.
She’d been nervous when she sought me out. Her warnings about pure evil had been a jumbled mess, and she’d been nervously looking over her shoulder. I was the final keeper. The last bridge to set things right.
I packed up my camping gear and a cooler and stationed them by the door for after my date. Two of my sisters had stopped by to check on me after hearing about my landfill mishap. They’d been mad that I hadn’t waited on them too. My sister Cassie had called to tell me she was tracking our ancestors with Nathan’s help. Sleeping with an FBI agent had its perks, I guess. She said she’d be out of town for a day or two and not to do anything so stupid again until she got back.
Fifteen minutes before seven, my doorbell rang. My lips twitched into a smile. The doctor was early.
I unlocked the door and yanked it open to find Detective Keaton on my porch instead of the doctor. His smoldering gaze held my eyes before dipping to my lips.
“I hope you aren’t here to ruin my date,” I said, resting my hand on my hip.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “I have something I wanted to give you.”
“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“I realize I might have come on a little strong when we first met. I want to fix that,” he said, holding out a single perfect white tulip.
I held his gaze as I lifted it to my nose and inhaled the flowery scent. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “White means…”
“Forgiveness and apologies,” he said and leaned in and kissed my cheek. The heat from his lips only lingered long enough for me to lean into the warmth before it was gone. He took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you later tonight. Be safe, Faith Bennett.”
I watched him leave while holding the tulip to my face. Keaton Daniels was one cluster of confusion.
I’d closed the door and leaned against it when a knock sounded at my back. I smiled as I turned and opened it. “Did you forget something?”
Dr. Brandon Myers stood on my stoop with a bouquet of pink roses in his hand. He glanced at
the white tulip.
“You’re early,” I said, ignoring the heat claiming my cheeks.
“Judging by the guy leaving and the flower in your hand, I’d say I’m late.” His smile softened as he met my gaze.
“Oh, this was just an apology from the detective for being so rude today,” I said.
Brandon held out the bouquet. “Mine isn’t an apology. They’re a symbol of your beauty.”
Oh, he was good. I took the bouquet of roses from his hand and inhaled their flowery perfume. “Thank you. They smell lovely.”
Brandon stuck his hands into his pockets. “Are you ready to go?”
“Oh yeah, give me just a second to put these in water, and then I’m all yours,” I said.
I disappeared into the kitchen and placed Keaton’s flower into a small vase and the bouquet on the counter to deal with later. Only one knife was on the counter this time. The long sharp one that I’d accidentally cut my finger with. It had sliced through my skin without any hesitation. I didn’t bother putting it away and returned. Brandon was staring down at my camping gear.
“You like to camp?” he asked.
“On occasion. Being one with nature helps keep me grounded.”
“From the ghosts you see?”
“Yeah,” I said, grabbing a shawl for my shoulders and my purse and locking up behind me.
Brandon opened the door to his Mercedes and offered support for me to climb in.
When he got in, he glanced at me. “I’m glad you were able to make it. I’ve made reservations at the Spice Cellar.”
“That sounds fabulous. It’s hard to get a reservation there.” I smiled at him as he pulled out of my drive.
His dark hair hung down in one of his eyes. His perfect olive skin looked exotic and warm to the touch.
“I’m surprised our paths haven’t crossed before.”
He grinned. “Do you go to the ER a lot?”
“No, well, technically, I’m a klutz, but I never hurt myself enough to go to the hospital. I hate the hospital.”
He glanced my way as he pulled out onto the highway. “Because of the ghosts?”
“Exactly,” I said.
He cleared his throat as if this conversation made him uncomfortable.
“Have you lived here long?” I asked.
“Six months. I moved here after I lost my wife,” he said.
My heart clenched. What was I supposed to say to that? “I’m sorry.”
“Hope and I had been separated for a year before she died. I loved her, but I wasn’t in love with her. We grew apart. We were both so engrossed in our work that we didn’t realize the toll it was taking on our marriage.”
“I can only imagine with hospital hours.”
He shrugged. “I love my work. I love helping people.” He pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. He parked and killed the ignition but didn’t move to get out of the car. “I do have a confession.”
I raised my brow. “Okay.”
“My son, Reggie, lives with me now that his mother is gone.”
“Oh well, I know plenty of people with kids,” I lied. I could count the number of kids I knew on the one hand, and one of them was a ghost.
“He’s sixteen.”
“Wow.” My eyes widened. “You must have been young when you had him.”
“I was twenty, and Hope was eighteen.”
“That must have made going to college tough and then med school,” I said as he got out of the car and so did I. He took my hand and led me to the restaurant’s doors.
“We had a good support team. My parents and Hope’s helped out.”
My heartstrings tightened. I wouldn’t know what that was like with the loss of both of my parents when I was so young. Thank God for Grams taking all of us crazy girls in. She was the one who deserved a medal.
Brandon gave his name to the hostess after we entered, and we were quickly whisked away to a secluded table. If I had to guess, he’d probably paid extra or the doctor in front of his name had these people pulling out all the stops.
Dinner was disappointing, even if the company wasn’t. The food was miniature sized and stuff that I was hesitant to try, but I did. Thank God it was miniature, because I wasn’t going to take more than a single bite.
The rest of the evening I sipped my wine and nibbled on bread from the breadbasket they’d brought out to every table. I understood why now. They needed the patrons to leave feeling full because they definitely weren’t going to get it by eating the main entrees.
We had a comfortable conversation as he drove me home. He was a nice guy. A good-looking guy. Not the pompous ass that I’d sort of been dreading. When we arrived, I said goodnight and got out of the car, and he followed.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I said and smiled.
“I picked you up at the door, and it’s where I’ll leave you,” he said and waited for me to unlock the door.
“Goodnight,” I said, staring up at him without inviting him in.
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight, Faith.”
I watched him return to his car, climb inside, and pull out of my driveway. The spark I’d been expecting wasn’t there. Had it been because it was just a peck on the cheek? I stepped inside and was about to close the door when I spotted Elenore across the street, sitting in a lawn chair in her yard in the dark.
Chapter 8
The beam of the flashlight on the pages of the book reflected back on her face, washing her out until she resembled one of the ghosts who normally haunted me. She waved, and I waved back before stepping inside. The weird woman was just as unusual as the professor and the hours he kept.
I changed out of my dress into something more comfortable and grabbed my bag and camping gear before loading it into my car. When I was done, I tipped my chin at Elenore in passing as I drove out of town and out toward the trails. I was surprised to find an old beat-up truck with a license bracket from an out of town dealer parked in the clearing. Not many people liked to camp in this area. Well, only the ones who were looking for a fright. There were multiple legends about these woods and the ghosts who inhabited them. My guess was Mary used her ancestors to scare people away from her house. I’d never asked.
I grabbed my gear and hiked through the woods toward the lake, only slowing long enough to take one more look at Mary’s empty house. A heavy feeling settled in my chest at the thought that she’d been out here all alone. Her isolation was why no one had reported her missing. Her trips in town consisted of stocking up on groceries and an occasional stop in to visit with me. I wasn’t even sure she had any other friends other than my family.
Shoving my way through the trees, I followed the sound of the waterfall crashing on the rocks to lead me the rest of the way. It was a peaceful sound. I might have camped here had I ever found the spot before Mary suggested that she was buried nearby. That was something I couldn’t forget.
I stepped through the clearing to find Keaton sitting on a log. A tent had been set up a few paces away. He had an assortment of items laid out on the ground, including two pair of waders and a stack of plywood. Just how long had he been here? He’d had to have made several trips just to carry all four of those plywood sheets in.
“Your date didn’t last long.”
I dumped my gear on the ground and pulled out a water bottle, taking a long, satisfying sip. “I don’t sleep with anyone on the first date.”
He chuckled. “Good to know.”
The smell of cooking hot dogs wafted in the air and my stomach grumbled accordingly. I stared at the smoking portable grill. My mouth watered in appreciation.
Keaton lifted a brow. “You hungry?”
I licked my lips and swallowed hard before starting to unpack my gear. “The food was horrible, even if the company wasn’t.”
Keaton turned the hotdogs once more before pulling one off. He stuck it on a bun and handed it to me. “He’s a p
utz for not noticing.”
I ate his hotdog and then watched over the others he was still cooking while he put up my tent in a matter of minutes. I glanced at my watch. We still had four hours to kill.
When he was done, he fixed me another hot dog and handed it to me before he scarfed down three of his own.
I unrolled my sleeping bag and settled in, watching as he started a fire.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be out here,” I said.
“I didn’t want to miss finding Mary’s body. These killings are the reason I’m here,” he said.
“Right.” I sighed. “So what’s all that other stuff?”
“Until the water is tested for bacteria, I brought the waders to keep our clothes dry.”
“And the panels?”
“There has to be a reason we can only see the body between 2 and 3. I’m guessing it’s because the water will get lower, so I’m going to build a barrier around her until the crime scene unit can get here. I don’t want the water to ruin any potential evidence that might be remaining,” he answered.
“You really are prepared,” I said, pulling out granola bars from my bag. I tossed him one.
He grinned and ripped the wrapping. “So, tell me about the date. How did it go other than the fact that he didn’t feed you?”
“I’m not talking about my date,” I said.
“Okay, then what do you want to talk about?” he asked.
“How long have you been able to see ghosts?”
“Since the day my momma dropped me on my head,” Keaton said.
“That explains a lot,” I answered, looking out into the water. Mary was hovering over the area just before the rocks near the waterfall.
“She’s been there since I got here. I think she’s anxious to be found,” he said.
“Not until you arrived in town. I’d been begging her for a week to tell me where she was, and she kept saying she couldn’t until the detective showed up. The one that was going to save my life.”
I turned to find Keaton staring at me, not surprised by my statement, just a stoic look on his face.
“You aren’t surprised?”
Down and Dirty (Bennett Dynasty Book 3) Page 4
