A Strange There After (11 page)

“Tomorrow night she’s attending a party with
Jason. She will be in her element. Influential people, fancy
dresses, trying to impress. It is the perfect opportunity.”

“How do you know all this?” I exclaimed. “I
haven’t heard much about the party, and you know the where and the
when. You’d think I’d know and see all.”

“You aren’t Santa Claus.” Caught by his joke,
I actually laughed, and Jackson continued, “You need to pay more
attention. Stop brooding, and start listening.”

I gaped at him, unable to find any retort
other than, “Um, I’m trying, Mr. Know-It-All.”

“I’ve been a spirit long enough to be attuned
to what goes on around me. Catherine, even when I hate her or try
to avoid her, is a flame, one I’m irresistible to. I grew up with
her, understand how she operates. Even in her darkest moments,
pieces of her remain. That’s why I have been unable to give her
up.”

The emotion in his speech embarrassed me.
Judging by the way he avoided eye contact, it did him, too.
Comparing this version of Catherine to the one Jackson grew up
loving baffled me. It was literally two different people. As close
as Jackson and I had become, I’d never tell him how ridiculous he
sounded defending her. Any other person would be suspicious,
questioning why a man hung up on his childhood sweetheart would be
so willing to thwart her. Not me. I realized Jackson’s intentions,
his reluctant involvement in my plight. In the end, he just wanted
Catherine to find peace.

Adapting a business-like tone, I asked, “So
Catherine will have her guard down at this party?”

I recalled the first and only public event I
attended with Jason, how incredibly nervous I’d been. Granted, I
wore a mask and constantly worried over my stepmother and
stepsisters recognizing me, not to mention how overwhelmed I was
with the possibility of embarrassing Jason in front of his peers.
Their acceptance of me, a simple southern girl, mattered. Did those
feelings live residually in Catherine? Hard to imagine narcissistic
Catherine stressing out about being accepted, but she already
freaked out about the reporters.

“One of her biggest obsessions has always
been fitting in. As much as she fought her marriage to Jennings, I
heard stories of the parties they threw, I’m assuming before he
started beating her. Acquaintances told me about how she adapted,
taking on this new persona, all to be accepted with her husband’s
business associates. Trust me, she is thinking the exact same thing
now. In order to fit into this modern world, she will latch onto
Jason and what he can offer her. It’s her way of surviving.”

My fists clenched in response. I hated the
idea of anyone using Jason for their own personal gain. This woman
really had no redeeming qualities. Then I remembered how Jackson
talked about her, the trace of respect in his voice.

“I can’t picture someone as good as you
loving a woman as narcissistic as her,” I chided.

“I cling to my memories because they are all
I have.”

An awkward pause settled between us, and I
realized the day had faded. Dusk crept across the city, and with it
came a familiar sensation. She was here, the female entity. Sure
enough, a black shadow materialized from the far corner where it
had before and swooshed toward us, aiming directly at me. In the
writhing darkness of the mass, I caught quick glimpses of the
hideous face. The woman’s twisted features were contorted in what I
could have sworn was laughter. Fear rooted me in place, the sense
of dread and hopelessness threatening to eat me alive from the
inside.

At the last second, I heard Jackson shout,
yanking me out of the way. From the corner of my eye, I saw the
shadow swerve and burrow itself into the tree. I made to turn and
run, but a deep, guttural groan emitted from the majestic oak.
Then, the thick trunk moved, the branches flexing and stretching,
creaking as if waking up from a long slumber.

“Oh my God,” Jackson murmured.

My brain, sluggish with shock from the
mind-blowing image in front of me, wasted a few seconds to register
what was happening. She possessed the tree. The thought barely
formed before I felt Jackson tugging on me, trying to get us to
safety.

But we didn’t move fast enough.

Chapter
Twelve

A branch swung down, capturing me around the
waist in a hard, unforgiving grip. It shouldn’t be able to do that.
I wasn’t real! The simple fact didn’t seem to matter as it swept me
off my feet and into the air. The rough bark cut into my skin, and
I gave up trying to figure out how it was possible. All around me,
the leaves rustled, and the wood creaked. A muffled laugh joined
in, the sinister chuckle echoing through my head.

I was lifted high into the upper branches,
any view of the ground obscured, then whipped about and slammed
into the hard trunk. It stunned me, rattling my bones and jarring
my spine. Another branch came at me, slinking around my ankles.
More leaves shot forward, slapping me across the face. My skin
split open, producing a dribble of warm liquid that meant I was
bleeding. Amazed, I touched the wound. Sure enough, my fingers came
away sticky and red.

Try all you want. You will never leave dis
place.

The feminine voice slithered through my
conscious, filling me with frigid cold. My bindings tightened, and
I cried out in pain. Every single part of me hurt and, amidst all
the agony, I realized it was the most sensation I felt since
becoming a ghost. Here, being squeezed by a vindictive tree, I was
more alive than I had been in days—apart from being in my body last
night. All part of this nasty woman’s plan, I bet.

Something hard and unyielding snaked around
my chest, then again, encircling my neck. Panic hit me full force
as my air supply cut off. Even that shouldn’t have happened. I
hadn’t drawn a real breath in weeks. Instead, my lungs cried out
for release. As I fought, pulling and scratching at the heavy wood,
my fingernails tore, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

You must learn your life is over. Your
family is over. They will not hurt anyone again.

“H-how?” I intended to ask her how the
Roberts hurt her, but speaking was impossible.

My only reply was her continuing laugher. The
branches squeezed, tighter. I couldn’t move, the pain too great, as
the agony of slow suffocation consumed me. Black dots filled my
vision, and my head grew lighter and lighter. Could I die if I was
nothing more than a spirit?

Then, from the darkness, I sensed another
presence. The man.

Leave the girl alone,
he ordered.

The spirit-infested tree hesitated. Suddenly,
all the suffering and lack of air vanished as a blast of energy
exploded around us. I heard the woman cry, and the tree’s grip
loosened. Emptiness overwhelmed me, as well as the realization I
was falling. I prepared for the bone shattering impact, but it
never came. Just the slightest sensation of touching soft grass. A
lingering trace of pressure remained on my chest, and I
instinctively sucked in air. Jackson was at my side, helping me to
my feet. Tenderly, I touched my cheek and startled when I felt a
scab. I had already begun healing.

“Did that really happen?” he asked.

I saved you as a reminder not to listen to
what everyone says. I do not want to harm you. Quite the contrary.
Helping you is my only intention. We’ll talk again, Miss
Roberts.

“Is someone there?” The question caused
Jackson and me to flinch.

Spinning, I came face-to-face with Abby, her
wide eyes filled with a mixture of fright and awe, staring at a
spot past my shoulder. A large pack was slung over her shoulder,
and I recognized it as the one we always brought on our paranormal
investigations. Relief hit me hard, harder than the now silent tree
did, and I rushed toward her.

Boone stood behind her, staring at the tree
with a slack jaw. He wore a black t-shirt tonight, and part of a
tattoo peeked from under the sleeve. My fingers itched to lift the
material and see what it was. It looked like wings of some kind,
maybe a skull. He caught my gaze, his eyes concerned behind his
glasses, and pushed past Abby.

“The tree?”

His voice trembled in shock, but I got the
gist of his question. “Yeah, it came alive. Ow.”

I flexed my neck, and he gaped at me.

“Jesus, how can it hurt you?” Even though the
marks had almost faded, I imagined they were nasty.

“Is she okay?” Abby’s shrill tone interrupted
us. “How did the tree move?”

“Quinn is fine. Well, her neck is all
scratched up, like it tried to strangle her.” He fixed me with a
dark glare. “Why didn’t you tell us it had gotten this bad?”

“It wasn’t, not really. I, uh, might have
ticked her off.”

“Her? This Catherine person or something
else? I’m lost.”

“Well, if you would have shown up sooner, I
might have been able to fill you in,” I grumbled.

“Sorry if we had problems finding mention of
anything remotely close to what’s happened to you.”

“Stop! Both of you. I can’t follow a
one-sided conversation.” Abby’s shout drew a smirk from Boone.
“She’s my best friend. Is there any way to include me, or am I
destined to be a decoration?”

“I’m sure
you
know of a way,” I said
sarcastically to Boone.

He considered this for a minute then reached
into his messenger bag. He brought out a fancy digital recorder and
a pair of headphones. Switching it on, he handed it to her.

“Listen to this as we talk. I’ve done it
before, a live EVP session. Quinn is stronger than most ghosts, so
you should hear her pretty well.” He glanced at the eerily quiet
yard. “Can we go inside? We watched your doppelganger leave a while
ago, so it should be all clear. But I’m not too keen on staying
back here.”

“Big bad Boone Ravenwood is scared?” I teased
as I followed him into the house.

Behind us, Abby giggled. “This is going to be
fun.”

“Obviously that’s working,” Boone grumbled
before stopping and staring. “Nice crib.”

“I’m glad you approve. So, what did you find
out?”

He flopped down on the couch, putting his
feet up on an antique apothecary coffee table. “Nothing.”

I waited expectantly, glancing between the
two.

“He’s right,” Abby confirmed. “This is
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
territory. Science Fiction.
All we found were mentions of possessions where the possessor is
stronger and overpowers the body’s actual inhabitant, pushing them
into the background. Pretty much as we expected.”

“You are one of a kind. Which means we’ll
have to figure this out on our own. Lucky you found me when you
did,” Boone said from the sofa.

“Really? You’re going to be
that
guy?
Are you always such an ass?”

“I hope you’re more fun as a living person,
otherwise I’m not sure this is worth the headache.”

“Play nice, you two,” Abby warned, but I
noticed her trying not to laugh. “Let’s get back to the tree. Was
it Catherine?”

I sighed, leaning against the fireplace
mantel. “I doubt it. There’s something else here. Two somethings,
actually. Supposedly, Catherine made a deal with an entity, a man.
I’ve gotten that much. I think he gives Catherine the power to do
what she does. But, of course, Catherine isn’t talking.” I took a
breath, making a spontaneous decision to not tell them as much
about him—not until I knew more about what he wanted. “Then,
there’s the woman. She’s crazy, at least in my opinion. She wants
to hurt me more than the man. He’s not violent. He’s been kind of
helpful, definitely the more powerful of the two, the one with
influence and answers.”

“Slow down,” Abby pleaded. “Just repeat that
last bit, please. You keep fading in and out.”

I obliged, taking my time and grinning when
she flashed me a thumbs up.

“Makes sense,” Boone interjected. “A normal
ghost can’t do the things Catherine has done. This other spirit,
the male one, might be connected to another plane, drawing the
power from it and channeling it into Catherine. The million dollar
question is why?”

“Which is what we have to find out,” Abby
said.

“Double the fun,” Boone joked. “What ticked
it off and turned the tree homicidal?”

“That was the female spirit. I don’t know if
she cares, and maybe it’s unrelated, but...” I glanced at Boone,
uneasy because I figured he’d think I was stupid. “Last night I
tried to get my body back. I kind of put myself in a position that
matched Catherine’s sleeping form. It worked, for a few seconds,
but I got pushed out pretty quickly.”

“Rookie move.” Point proven.

“At least I tried. I’m sick of sitting around
and letting my life pass me by. And I’m going to try again,
tomorrow night.”

Boone groaned as Abby asked, “What happens
tomorrow?”

“There’s a wrap party Jason is taking
Catherine to. She’ll be distracted, mingling and trying to impress.
It’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I really can’t picture you and Mr. Movie
Star together.”

I spun on Boone. “Did I ask your
opinion?”

“No, but maybe you should.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” I
growled.

“It tells me a lot about your intentions,
what motivates you.”

“Do you really think you can do it?”

I sent Abby a grateful smile for interrupting
us, trying to shake off Boone’s remark, then remembered she
couldn’t see it.

“I have to try, and since you guys didn’t
find much else, what do I have to lose?”

“Um, everything?” Abby tossed out.

“Yeah, what she says.” Boone stood and
stalked over to me. “Look, I’m not saying it’s the worst idea in
the history of man, but you need to be careful. Don’t forget about
this.”

He reached out and grazed my neck, where the
welts from the tree branch continued to throb. Sure, his finger
passed through me, but I felt it, and a spark of electricity jolted
through me.