A Strange There After (12 page)

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Authors: Missy Fleming

Tags: #ghosts, #paranormal, #savannah, #haunted house, #series, #ga, #body swap, #desperation, #paranormal investigator, #ancestor, #alliances, #happily never after, #missy fleming, #savannah shadows, #a strange there after, #dangerous entity, #dark presence, #talk to ghosts

BOOK: A Strange There After
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Instead of lingering on how pleasant it was,
I said, “Hands to yourself, bucko.”

“Fine.” Boone spread his palms in front of
him. “About this party. You’re not going alone. I’ll be there in
case this wacko tries to hurt you.”

“With a camera, right?”

“I’m hurt, I really am. I went against my
instincts and promised. I won’t use any of this for Ravenwood
Hauntings.”

“I’m going, too.”

“No,” I said to Abby.

“Casper’s right. This Catherine person will
recognize you. If she sees you, her guard will go up. She doesn’t
know me. It’s a date,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and flashing
the dimple.

“Casper?” I glared at him. “Casper was a
boy.”

He ignored me, pacing past Abby, gazing
around the living room and foyer. “There’s darkness in this house,
death and sadness. I can feel the history, a living breathing
force. God, I’d love to live here.”

Some of my animosity toward him softened. It
was exactly what I experienced. Anyone who understood the joy of
living with such rich history couldn’t be all bad.

Loud grunts captured my attention, and I
turned to Abby, who had a pencil inside her cast, digging for an
out of reach itch. A smile formed on my lips. Having her near made
everything right.

Abby paused and smirked in my general
direction. “Hey, Quinn, what ya gonna wear to the party?”

“You’re not funny,” I drawled. “I’d literally
kill for a new outfit right now. I’ve been in the same jeans and
tank top since the night at the cemetery. It’s getting old.”

Boone looked me up and down. “It’s a good
thing ghosts don’t smell. I bet you’re pretty rank.”

“Ha ha.” But I couldn’t stop the smile from
stretching my lips. Once I had my body back, I planned on spending
hours in the shower, scrubbing the Catherine stink away.

Abby and Boone left, wanting to avoid
Catherine when she returned from wherever she disappeared to. Once
they were gone, I wandered through the house. Even knowing Jackson
and George were somewhere, the place felt too empty.

 

 

Chapter
Thirteen

 

The next day, restless the only way a
non-ghostly ghost could be, I wandered from room-to-room, reliving
memories from my childhood. Daddy, with his broad shoulders and
deep laugh, carrying me on his back and making horse sounds. Mama,
slipping into her heels before they went out to dinner. The house
held so many good and bad memories. When would it end? When would
the good finally get a win and chase away the bad?

Turning a corner in the upstairs hall,
determined to ignore Catherine primping in her room for the party
tonight, I heard a voice. Following the murmuring, I peeked into an
empty bedroom and spotted George sitting in the corner, staring at
a spot on the wall.

“Why you gotta keep hurtin’ my friends?” he
asked in a broken voice, no more than a whisper.

He listened intently, never moving his gaze
from where it rested.

“I ain’t no good boy. If I is good, I’d stop
ya.”

I watched his small body tremble, morbidly
curious as to what was being said to him. His lower lip quivered,
but he suddenly pulled himself up straight.

“Quinn is my friend. She ain’t done nuttin’
wrong.”

This time he flinched, and my chest
tightened. My protective nature pestered me to rush in and shield
him, but I couldn’t relay the message to my feet. Malice and
coldness throbbed from the threshold of the room, an invisible
barrier I dared not cross.

“No, I won’t help you!”

George stood and vanished through the wall
behind him, leaving a sense of grief in his wake. Part of me knew
he’d been talking to
her
, the dark woman, so I didn’t stick
around for another encounter. It hit me then that Jackson had been
right, she was connected to George somehow. I hurried up to the
attic and sat at my vanity, studying the empty reflection and
trying not to go searching for answers from George. There were
bigger fish to fry tonight.

“You can’t seriously be considering
this.”

Jackson’s sudden appearance startled me. I
sighed and spun on the small stool to face him. “I don’t have a
choice. Besides, it was your idea.”

His jaw clenched. “That was before you got
hurt last night.”

“I’m fine! Do I really have to make this
argument for like, the millionth time?”

Always the same debates with him, and they
got old. I prepared myself for another lecture, but he surprised
me, a little. He shifted and leaned against the doorframe. “Have
you stopped to consider the consequences of doing this in such a
public place? What if something goes wrong? What if it’s too
intense for Jason to handle, and he walks away forever?”

A shudder ripped through me, and I threw my
hands in the air as I rose to my feet. “Do you expect me to do it
right there, in a room full of people? Give me some credit. The
whole idea of trying this repossession at the party is to catch her
with her guard down. Is it a perfect plan? Goodness no, but it’s
all I have.”

“I’m worried.” He stepped closer and gripped
my shoulder with strong fingers. “I know I question everything you
do, but I do care for you, as much as I’ve tried not to.”

“How sweet,” I mumbled.

“We’ve lived together for eighteen years,
Quinn. It’s hard to not form attachments, even if I steel my heart
against it. Being cold and distant makes dealing with those
attachments easier, but I worry about you.”

“And I appreciate it, I do, but you have to
trust me to make these decisions. In my mind, all of this is worth
the risk. We have a saying these days, ‘go big or go home’. It
means to go for what you want with everything you have. If I fail,
at least I’ll fail trying. And I’m okay with that.”

“You are too cavalier for your own good, but
I understand your point. All I am saying is, I don’t want anything
to happen to you. We’re friends, and I want to protect you.”

There was no stopping the smile spreading
across my face. I beamed at him, until he shuffled his feet in
embarrassment.

“No need to make a big deal of it.”

“You’re not as gruff as you pretend.”

“Well, I have you to blame for it, all your
hollerin’ about living and fighting. It’s hard to let it roll off
me now. The past has come back to haunt me. I can’t hide it any
longer.”

So many unspoken truths peppered his voice,
and I honed in on one of them. “You still love Catherine.”

He shook his head in frustration. “Nothing is
ever as simple as you believe. I know you think I am pathetic, but
you’re young, and I don’t have a simple answer to make it any
clearer. ”

“Is that why you’re here? Truly?” I wanted to
press the issue as hard as he’d let me. Any time conversation
veered toward Catherine, I watched him become passionate and
animated. This was my chance to find out why he remained in my
house.

“Leave it alone,” he said gruffly, preparing
to leave. Before he passed out the door, he turned back, pinning me
with his soft blue eyes. “Be careful tonight.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, thankful I
managed to learn a little more of his feelings. There was time to
dwell and dissect it later. Now I needed to concentrate on what I
was about to do. I fixed a sad expression on my face, burying the
hope and courage I’d been building throughout the day. Catherine
must see me moping around. She had to believe she won another
round.

Making my way to the foyer, I lingered near
the entrance to the kitchen. Soon enough, Catherine came floating
down the steps in a knee-length silk dress, the skirt hanging lower
in the back. The cobalt blue color was gorgeous, accenting her soft
brown tresses. As much as I hated the new hair color, it did look
good. Strappy heels finished off the outfit, along with some
tasteful jewelry. A stab of jealousy pierced through me. I’d never
be able to pull together an outfit like that. Some women,
regardless of the eras they lived in, just had the knack for being
stylish.

She caught sight of me and smirked. “Come to
see me off?”

Her tone implied confidence, but I noted
familiar tells—how her fingers trembled when she played with her
necklace, something I did when nervous, and her gaze kept straying
to the hallway mirror, making sure everything was in place.

“You look beautiful,” I said softly.

Her eyes bulged in surprise. It took her a
couple seconds to find words. “It appears someone is learning to
accept their fate. It’s nice to not hear you screeching at me about
hope and all that other nonsense.” A knock at the door interrupted
us, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laying into her.
“Don’t wait up.”

I glared at the back of her head, straining
to catch a glimpse of Jason. The sight of him in jeans, dark purple
button up and blazer stole my breath. Yet, it was the look on his
face as he gazed at Catherine that threatened to kill me. Every
emotion was written there, the depth of his feelings. For a split
second, I hated him. Then I buried it. I had to make this work
tonight.

“You look amazing,” he said, leaning forward
to kiss Catherine deeply.

I lifted my hand to my mouth, trying to scrub
away the sensation of his lips on mine. When they separated, she
laid her palm to his cheek.

“So do you.”

He drew her outside, and she flashed me a
wink before closing the door behind her. The second I heard Jason’s
car pull away I sprang into action, clearing my mind of any
thoughts, except those of the luxury hotel where the party would
be. If I kept it front and center, I may find it without getting
lost or distracted.

Plenty of ‘what-if’s’ and disaster scenarios
tried to weasel their way in, but I concentrated on street signs
instead. The closer I got to downtown the more crowded the streets
became. I yearned to stroll down the sidewalk, the way I used to,
taking in the eccentric buildings with their unique architecture
and beautiful landscaping. Anxiety beat wildly in my chest when I
caught sight of the historic Bohemian Hotel. The party for Jason’s
movie was being held in the rooftop lounge, privately reserved by
Hollywood executives.

Even if I didn’t know which hotel to look
for, the throng of paparazzi outside would have been a great
indicator. As I approached, I noted their relaxed demeanor. They
stayed to their side of the barricade, chatting or smoking, waiting
for someone important to pass by. Nervous hysteria bubbled up as I
darted past, wondering if they snapped a picture would I show up as
a pale white blur? Would they dismiss me as lens flare?

From the dark, richly decorated lobby with
high ceilings, Savannah bricks and exposed wood beams I made my way
to the stairwell. Each step seemed to increase my trepidation, and
if I’d been real, physical, there’d be beads of sweat dotting my
forehead. Regardless, I felt them and brushed absently at the
invisible perspiration. The hotel was only five stories, so I
reached the roof quicker than anticipated and followed the din of
many conversations.

Once I stepped into the lounge I had to stop
and stare.

It was gorgeous. The entire room boasted what
had to be original brick facade blended with rough wood accents. A
granite bar stuck out in a rectangle, the ceilings painted a burnt
orange, or maybe it was the lights casting the color, I couldn’t
tell. On the far side of the room large industrial garage doors
were opened to the night, bringing in the scent of jasmine and
river. Comfy chairs and tables topped with flickering candles
dotted the wide balcony, creating a soft, yet luxurious,
atmosphere.

All around, small groups of people mingled,
sipping drinks and laughing. I moved to the center, bombarded as
always with the reminder I was invisible. It didn’t matter if I
bumped into the woman with overly plump lips or stepped on the toe
of Jason’s rival in the movie. They might feel a cold breeze or
notice the hairs on their arms standing up, but no one realized I
was there.

Boone would.

Hating how reassuring the notion was, I kept
an eye out for him. He said he’d be here, but I hadn’t heard from
him since the day before. Not to mention I didn’t hold much faith
in him getting past the two private security guards at the entrance
to the lounge. Hopefully his idea of ‘helping’ wasn’t creating a
scene at the door.

I brushed aside the unsettling feeling and
scanned the room, searching for Catherine and Jason. I found them,
out on the balcony, holding hands and chatting with some other
actors I recognized. Jason snuck little peeks at her, each look
filled with admiration and pride.

Dang, I should have figured she’d get this
right, too.

Preparing myself for a battle, I rolled my
head from side-to-side and squared my shoulders. Keeping them in
sight, I faded into the shadows to avoid Catherine sensing my
presence. From here on out I had to give this everything. I needed
to know if I could overpower her.

 

 

Chapter
Fourteen

 

For one long agonizing hour I waited for my
chance to catch Catherine alone. Forced to watch her become the
belle of the ball, my courage waned. Each new person she won over
was a bullet to the heart. She made it seem so effortless, charming
them with nothing more than a bright smile or well-timed
compliment. I began to doubt myself, whether Jason wasn’t better
off with her.

Then he walked over to the bar to refill
their drinks. He passed so close to me I smelled him. Breathing his
scent deeply, a mixture of soap and fresh air, my resolve hardened.
I desperately wanted to feel alive. Not just because of a boy, but
because I missed the rush of feeling I got when near him.

Over his shoulder I caught sight of Catherine
ducking out of the room and followed her into a brick lined
hallway. When she stepped into the ladies’ restroom, I couldn’t
help smiling. Perfect.

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