A Ghost of a Clue Page 7

  “Massage, huh?” She snorted as he grinned at her. “Mr. Reed, I’m thinking that kind of massage is illegal in most places.”

  “I’m working out the kinks in some of the adaptations I’ve made. You can think of yourself as my guinea pig.”

  “Now there’s an image to spoil the moment.”

  “Sorry. My brain hasn’t caught up with my mouth yet. Does research subject work better?”

  “Slightly. That was the most thorough clinical examination I’ve ever had.”

  “I believe in having all the bases covered.”

  “Believe me, all my bases felt covered.” And then some, she thought.

  Rory cleared her throat. “You know though, the experiment will fail if you kill off your research subject.”

  “Death by sex. Not a bad way to go.”

  She wanted to laugh but didn’t think she had the energy. As she sat up to pick up her blouse, she glanced around.

  “I can’t say much about your choice of lab facilities, although Aunt Lorena would love the way we put her rug to use.”

  “I do most of my best work in the field.”

  Travis sat up and took the blouse from her hands. She gave him a quizzical look and he grinned.

  “I have another theory I want to check out.”

  “Theory?” Rory frowned. “Exactly what theory is that?”

  “I’ve heard tell that witches use the elements in their magic. You know, things like earth, air, fire, water.”

  “And?”

  “I thought I’d let you try some magic, so I could see how that sort of thing works. All in the interest of furthering scientific knowledge, of course.”

  “Of course. And what kind of magic am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, since the earth and the air outside are a bit on the cold side, it being fall and all, and we’ve just successfully experimented with fire—”

  “I’ll say.”

  “I thought it was time to give water a try.”

  “Are you planning on throwing me in the ocean to see if I float?”

  He reached for the blanket on the sofa and wrapped it around her. “We’ll save that for another time. I thought we’d hit the shower and try a little magic in there.”

  “I’m really good with water magic.”

  “I thought you might be.”

  “Come on,” she said, tugging him up. “And I’ll show you just how good. You’ll be a believer in magic before the night is through.”

  “I don’t know. It might take a lot of persuading.”

  “It’s Saturday. We’ve got all night.”

  “Yes, ma’am, we do.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rory looked around the room, checking to see that everything was in order before her guests arrived. The old oak dining room table was set with Aunt Lorena’s Limerick pattern china, eight place settings in all. Ireland seemed like the right addition to the night of All Hallows Eve. Maybe they’d see a leprechaun or one of the fey along with their ghostly guests, Rory thought with a grin. Dinner was warming in the oven, and the kitchen smelled nice and cozy. The sound of the October wind outside and the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below only added to the background ambiance.

  She had opted for an altar to the dead for the table’s centerpiece, knowing the kids would get a kick out of the melting skull candle with skeleton hands wrapped around it. Aunt Lorena’s black silk tablecloth formed the perfect background for the deliciously creepy decorations. Down the length of the table, Rory had placed a strand of tiny orange pumpkin lights for added effect. Beneath each place setting lay a placemat of orange and black with dancing ghosts scattered across it, and in front of each plate sat a silver goblet shaped like a witch’s cauldron. She had found a set of them on a trip to Salem with her aunt two years ago. They were a nice addition to her collection of Halloween kitsch. In the center of the altar was Rory’s favorite photo of Aunt Lorena, taken the summer Rory had come to stay with her as a teenager. She found herself holding back a few tears as she gazed down at it.

  “Thank you,” she whispered to the photo. “For all of this.”

  As she heard the truck drive up, Rory lit the white candles around the edges of the table that had been the finishing touch on her altar. With a bit of pride she surveyed her setting.

  “Well,” she murmured, glancing around the room. “If no ghosts show up, then they’re missing a great party.”

  She took a deep breath and sent up a whispered prayer that tonight would go well.

  “Hello! We’re here, ready or not.”

  Travis let out the greeting as they all tumbled through her door. The kids shrieked at the table setting, moving from place to place to check out the decorations. Rory hovered over them, fearful they would knock over the candles. Travis pulled her to him and gave her a kiss. Pulling back from her mouth he licked his lips.

  “Mmm, you taste like chocolate. Sinfully sweet chocolate.”

  Rory laughed, wiping at the corner of her mouth to make sure there was no more evidence of her taste testing.

  “You caught me. There’s one of Bea’s beautiful cakes in the fridge, waiting to become our dessert. Triple chocolate caramel.”

  “Wow.” Travis let out an appreciative whistle. “Ghosts would be crazy not to show up. This is really a celebration then.”

  “Of course. I had to taste test a little bit of it, you know, to make sure it wasn’t too sweet for the kids.”

  “And I’m sure their parents and their dentists appreciate your sacrifice.”

  “It was the adult thing to do, and since I was the only adult here, the sacrifice was mine to make.”

  “Yes indeed.” Travis nodded solemnly. “Got to protect the poor kids from bad chocolate.”

  “My mother made sure my hostess skills were top of the line. Have to make her proud of me.” With a grin, Rory turned back to the table. “Pictures?”

  She held out her hand to the kids. After her initial invitation she had sent each kid a message through Travis asking all of them to bring a photo of a loved one who had passed on to be their “guest” at the supper.

  “I brought my grandma.” Amber produced a worn photo of a young girl with eyes the color of her granddaughter’s and a face that was a near perfect twin to Amber’s.

  “That’s your grandma?”

  Michael grabbed at the picture with total confusion. Amber rolled her eyes.

  “It’s from when she was my age, dufus.” She snatched the picture out of Michael’s hands.

  Rory showed Amber and Justin where to place their photos on the table. From his coat pocket Michael produced a small photo of a huge dog.

  “I brought a photo of Regis.”

  “Your dog?” Amber frowned at him. “You were supposed to bring a picture of a person you loved who’s died.”

  “Regis died last summer. And I loved him.”

  “A ghost of a dog isn’t going to come to dinner.” Justin shook his head.

  “Regis always sat by the table when we ate.”

  Michael glared at them stubbornly, clutching the photo tight in his hand. Rory glanced at Travis, who smothered his smile as he reached for Michael’s photo.

  “From what you’ve told me about Regis, Michael, he was a pretty smart dog. Seems to me if he gets a whiff of the dinner I’m smelling right now he’ll show up for it.”

  “And he would be an honored guest,” Rory added as Travis handed her the photo along with one of his own.

  “My grandpa,” he said. “My best fishing buddy.”

  Rory smiled at him as she placed it with the others on the altar.

  When they were all seated around the table, Rory brought the turkey and the side dishes out to the accompaniment of oohhs and aahhs from everyone else. She had stuck to simple again since it worked so well the last time. As they all filled their plates, Rory took out a small bell and set it in front of her. She cleared her throat, and they all quieted down and looked at her.

  “Remembe
r when I told you that during this kind of supper you couldn’t talk?”

  They all nodded, serious as they had been the other night with all their ghost hunting equipment set up.

  “When I ring the bell, it means the time for silence is started. That part of the dinner will last for thirty minutes while we wait to see if any of our guests show up. When the time is up, I’ll ring the bell again and then you can talk.”

  Justin glanced around the room.

  “Is it okay to eat after you ring the bell, or do we have to sit here and wait for them to show up before we can eat?”

  He looked concerned at what her answer might be, and Rory remembered how fast the other dinner she’d served them had disappeared. She shook her head.

  “You don’t have to wait.” She wanted to laugh at the look of relief on all three faces.

  “Go ahead and dig in as soon as I ring the bell. It’s like eating dinner at home, just without the conversation. If you want something just reach for it. You don’t have to ask. Just be careful of the candles.”

  They all nodded again, and Rory rang the bell. Across the table she could see the twinkle in Travis’ eyes. He had wanted to bet with her earlier, certain none of the kids could keep quiet for that long. She hadn’t been willing to take him up on the offer because she thought he was probably right.

  The kids surprised them both though. There were a few missteps, especially when they reached for something across the table. Justin got out “ex” before he caught himself and Michael did whisper a quick “sorry” when he dropped the platter he’d been moving. Other than that they kept silent, their eyes darting around the room looking for ghost flashes as they called them. They had wanted to set up their equipment around the table, and Rory had to explain to them that this wasn’t like one of their ghost hunting nights. It was a ritual of sorts, she’d told them, and it would be rude and disrespectful to treat it as anything less than a special meal to honor their ancestors. Hiding their reluctance, they agreed and left all their equipment at home. As she watched them now, Rory could tell they were mentally envisioning all the “data” they would have gotten with it set up.

  Rory had told them she’d ring the bell in thirty minutes. It had been almost twenty when she heard the clatter of the bowl Amber had dropped. As she started to reach over and help her pick it up, Rory felt the otherworldly energy behind her. It felt benign at first, and she smiled at the thought that the kids might get something to talk about out of the evening after all. Then she noticed the look on Amber’s face change just as the temperature in the room dropped noticeably. Shock didn’t nearly cover the open-mouthed surprise on the girl’s face. Michael dropped his spoon to the floor, and Justin stared past her with wide open eyes even as Rory picked up on the chaotic energy bursts beginning to fill the room. It was Travis’, “What the hell?” that had Rory turning to look behind her.

  The ghost girl was a young teenager, probably only a year or two older than the kids staring at her from the table. Her blonde hair hung down straight to her waist, and she was dressed in bell-bottom jeans and a black t-shirt. Bare feet peeked out from beneath the ragged hem of the jeans. And blood stained the leg of one side.

  Her image was strong for a ghost, her features clear and sharp even by the candlelight. This was no weak wispy outline, but a force of energy that projected itself in a steady manner. There was no mistaking the pain on her face either. Rory tried to absorb the waves of it coming off the girl’s ghost so the kids didn’t get hit by it, but there was so much, she thought. So much anger and so much hurt.

  Rory rose from the table even as Travis gathered the kids behind him. The look on his face was priceless. Shock warred with curiosity as both emotions moved across his features, and for a moment she feared he might try and touch the ghostly figure. Before he could do it, Rory stepped in front of him and turned to face the girl’s image.

  “It’s okay.” She spread her hands out in front of her in a gesture of calm as she kept her voice soft and even. “We’re here to help.”

  The ghost girl mouthed the word back to her and Rory thought she added the word “me” to it.

  “Help me. She said help me!”

  Behind her Amber’s voice rose excitedly, making the ghost shimmer and the waves of chaos coming off her rose until Rory thought she might fold under the rising strength of them.

  “Shh.”

  Rory waved a hand behind her, never taking her gaze off the ethereal girl standing by her fireplace. The noise of scooting chairs and thumping feet told her the warning wasn’t getting through. She turned back to see Travis stretching out an arm in front of the boys to keep them back. Amber had already moved up behind Rory. She leaned in against Rory’s side and whispered.

  “Is she hurt?”

  Rory shook her head, but the ghost girl mouthed that word as well. Hurt. Help me.

  Pain shot out from the ghost, deep, physical, and Rory sank down beneath the feel of it, pulling Amber down with her.

  “She’s hurt. We’ve got to help her.”

  Rory clasped a hand over Amber’s mouth, earning her a glare. She turned back to the ghost to find the image wavering, the strength of the energy around it rising and roiling in a chaotic whirlwind. A moaning sound came out of the ghost’s mouth, low at first but growing louder with each minute that passed. Rory glanced behind her and saw that the shock on the kids’ faces had turned to fear. The moaning echoed off the walls of the tiny cottage to blend with the sound of the waves below, filling the space with an eerie energy.

  Travis moved up behind her, and Amber and placed a hand on Rory’s shoulder. She reached up and grasped his hand, letting him pull her back up. The sadness coming off the ghost broke over her, and Rory buried her face in Travis’ shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her and the other around Amber, who had tears streaking down her face.

  “We’ve got to do something!”

  The panic in Amber’s voice told Rory she needed to take control of the situation. Seeing a ghost was one thing, but having the kids go home and tell their parents they had been terrorized by one was another matter entirely. She took a slow step toward the ghost girl, her hands out in front of her.

  “What can we do for you?”

  Rory made her voice soft and non-threatening. The moaning stopped as the ghost girl stared at her.

  Help me!

  With that last cry, the image of their ghostly visitor vanished as quickly as it had come. The temperature in the room rose, and the only sounds they could hear was the roar of the ocean and their own breathing. Rory knew the ghost was gone. She turned back to the others. The boys still wore the look of stunned disbelief and tears rolled down Amber’s face. It was the look of absolute and total shock on Travis’ face that made her start to laugh.

  “Welcome to my world, guys.” Rory wiped the tears away from her own eyes as she got her laughter under control.

  The kids looked at her with awe but Travis’ face held consternation.

  “This is what you see?” He croaked out the question then shook his head. “All the time?”

  “Well,” Rory smiled. “Not all the time. I saw my first spirit when I was five, although I didn’t know at the time it was a spirit. I thought it was some kid from the neighborhood who had wandered in to play with me.”

  “You played with ghosts?” Michael’s voice held deep respect.

  “When I realized what they were I was a bit more careful,” Rory confessed. “I found out not everyone saw them when I tried to introduce my new friend to my mother after she called me for lunch. My parents told me they were my imaginary playmates, and they strictly forbid me from talking about them.”

  “But that didn’t keep you from seeing them, did it?” Travis’ voice was quiet and thoughtful.

  “No.” Rory shook her head. “I still saw them, but I became very careful not to say anything to anyone else. At least, until Aunt Lorena came to visit.”

  “She saw them, too?” Justin stared at her.

/>   “Yes. I was so grateful to have someone who understood what was going on. I looked forward to her visits each time because it was the only chance I got to talk about what was happening to me.”

  Rory looked at Travis when she said it, searching his face for any sign of rejection. His gaze never left her as he spoke.

  “I can understand why she meant so much to you. It’s always nice to be understood.”

  He moved to Rory, taking her into his arms. Understanding and acceptance were clear on his face. Rory nodded as she buried her face in his chest.

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  “You guys!”

  Amber’s voice held annoyance and a trace of the sadness Rory had felt coming from the ghost. She turned to the girl, who stood staring at all of them with her hands on her hips.

  “What is it, Amber?” Travis stepped back from Rory to look at his student. “Are you okay? It’s over now, we can sit down. Don’t worry about it. We can go home now if you want.”

  “No!” Amber stomped her foot with impatience. “It isn’t over. You guys are just standing around talking like it is, and she’s out there!”

  For a moment Travis looked confused. “Who’s out there?’

  “She is! And she needs our help!”

  Amber glared at all of them in turn. Rory reached for her hand, pulling her closer to them and away from the fireplace. There might be residual energy from their visitor hanging around there, and she thought it best to get Amber away from any of it. Clearly the ghost girl had had a big impact on the girl already. Amber shook off Rory’s hand and continued glaring at them.

  “She came here tonight to get our help. We can’t just stand around here. We’ve got to do something!”

  “Amber, she’s a ghost.” Rory said the words gently, hoping the girl would calm down and get her meaning. “You do understand what that means, don’t you?”