Audrey Claire - Libby Grace 02 - How to Blackmail a Ghost (10 page)

“Did you…” I began and fell silent. Did my fear rise because Ian called me, or did he call because I became afraid? I decided not to ask and settled in the chair across from him.

“Liberty,” Ian said in a low, serious tone.

I licked my lips for wont of anything better to do. “Yes?”

He hesitated, something I didn’t normally see in him. Ian said whatever he wanted and darn the consequences. Trepidation made me want to find an excuse to leave and tell him whatever he had to say could wait until tomorrow night. Instead, I remained silent, waiting.

“The tether is weakening.”

My world fell apart. When I first met Ian, he had said I should feel a connection to my body, that I should know somehow that it was still alive. He claimed to be able to feel it, and while I couldn’t, I trusted what he told me. Ian had proven his abilities to me countless times. Now he was saying my body was dying?

“W-Why?” I managed, but my voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “If you can feel it, you should know—”

“What I feel is weak in itself. I sense life from you, more so when you are here with me in the room, but…”

I leaned toward him, desperate to understand. “But what? You called me here,” I said now sure he had drawn me to his home. “Now tell me the truth, all of it.”

“Over the last few visits, I have noticed less life from you. The only way I can describe it is if—”

“I’m dying.”

“Yes.”

I leaned back in my chair and shut my eyes. A feeling of wanting to sink through it and fall through the floor came over me, but even that terrified me. Who knew what was down there, maybe the pit Ian had referred to before.

“You have felt it?” Ian asked.

“The tether? No, I’m still ignorant.”

He set the book aside and rose. I watched as he walked over to a server I hadn’t noticed before. Ian poured himself a drink in a wine glass. The liquid was thick and rich, the color of blood. My head spun when I realized it
was
blood. He sipped, appearing to relish the flavor.

“Not the tether,” he said when he had taken another sip of his drink.

I didn’t want to have this conversation. “The darkness.”

“Yes.”

“So it’s not my imagination? It’s trying to get me?”

“Death,” he affirmed. “You are outside of your body, a spirit. When the connection breaks completely, you will be a true ghost.”

“And Death will come to collect me.”

“That is usually how it works.”

I looked at him. Didn’t they say vampires were the living dead, or the walking dead? Why did he get to stay around? “Does that mean if I want to stay here, I will always have to run from him?”

“Is that what you want?”

I didn’t know. “It’s working for us.”

“Your friend’s life is on hold for you.”

I did sink through the chair at that point, willing myself to disappear, to go anywhere. Shame washed over me. I wanted to cry, but tears refused to form. The room passed almost out of sight when I felt Ian’s hand take mine. I don’t know how he could grip it when I had no physical presence, but maybe I willed that too.

He pulled me higher, and I stood before him, staring up into his eyes. Out of the blue, my heart did something I never expected it to do. The place where we love has nothing to do with the organ which pumps blood throughout our bodies. My heart was the essence of me. All I knew is I began to feel—love.

The very best part of the way I felt for Ian was knowing he felt the same way. The coldness always so evident in his bearing, while not warming up exactly, did ease. I saw it in his beautiful eyes and the way he gripped my hand. My ghostly being did not repel from him, but he drew me closer. Ian gave off no heat, but I fluttered to him, a helpless moth to a flame.

My spirit flickered in and out of visibility. I could not turn my gaze away from his, nor could I force myself to calm down. “Y-You told me I’m using Monica, but you won’t let me go.”

“No,” he agreed.

I waited for him to say more. My palm lay in his, and I tried pulling it away. He held on. Temptation beyond anything I had felt made me want to lay my head on his chest, but I resisted.

“I have to go. Jake is up too late, and I have to make sure he gets to bed.”

Ian held onto my hand another moment or two, and then he let go. I took the opportunity to float backward.

“Um. Good night!” I fled from his house, across my lawn, and in through my front door without opening it. The second my feet brushed the hall runner, I solidified and blew out a feigned breath. This I would not share with Monica. Ian and I were doomed in the relationship department. I was a ghost, he a vampire. If my body died, I would be forever outrunning Death to stay with the people I loved. Whatever time I had left, I had to do what I could for them.

I stuck my head in Jake’s room and waggled a finger at him as he played video games with Monica. “What are you doing up, mister?”

“Monica said one more game, Mom,” Jake said.

“Oh, you’re going to blame me? I should bite you for that.”

The two of them dropped controllers and chased each other around the room. Jake leaped on the bed, ran across it, and jumped into my arms. Monica yelped and grabbed for him, but I swung him around twice and set him on his feet.

“You’re getting too big.” I ruffled his hair. “You’re almost as tall as I am.”

Jake scoffed. “I know I’m short, Mom. I’m the smallest in my class.”

“You’ve got the biggest brain,” I insisted.

He grabbed his head with both hands, glaring at me. I tried not to laugh. “Mom, are you calling me bighead?”

“A mother would never call her son bighead. I love your head, and it’s the perfect size.”

Soon, I kissed Jake’s cheek and got a grumble for response. I wished him good night and shut his bedroom door. The moment I was out of his line of vision, I faded. Monica followed me down the hall. She shivered when she moved too quickly and passed through me.

“Ugh, I hate when I do that.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I let her see me just a little and pasted a smile on my face. We spent the rest of the night searching the Internet for any clue to my whereabouts. All the while, I knew it was hopeless, and my time with her and my son neared the end.

Chapter Ten

The next time I headed out to the mailbox, half the day had passed. I hadn’t wanted to check it, and Monica had left for work in a hurry. She had needed to run by the library before she headed into the restaurant. The door to the box squeaked as I opened it, but instead of peering inside, I glanced over at Ian’s house. He wouldn’t be awake at this time. No lights shined within, and a box sat in the center of his doorway. I knew it would be fine until he rose for the night, so I left it there. Besides, I had no wish to face him again so soon after discovering my budding emotions.

Pulling my attention away from Ian and his home, I focused on the mailbox and reached inside. At first I felt nothing and almost breathed a sigh of relief. Then my knuckles brushed something on the side of the box, and I bent down to look. To my horror, the person had stuck the letter into the box on its side. I might have missed it if I’d had any other mail that day.

I pulled it out slowly, but from the recognizable handwriting, I already knew my blackmailer had sent it. Not until I entered the house and shut the door did I pick at the sealed flap. I didn’t want to read the contents, so I took my time. All too soon, the envelope lay on the kitchen table, and I held the letter in my hands. Slowly, I unfolded it, and then the missive fluttered to the floor. I stared at it down there, too scared to touch it again, unable to look away.

The same words were painstakingly written on the page.

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, LIBBY GRACE. CONFESS TO KILLING SADIE BARNETT OR I WILL TELL EVERYONE YOUR SECRET.

This time, a drawing accompanied the threat, one I assumed was of me, transparent because an RV was visible behind my body. I began to realize winking out the day of Sadie’s murder was the least of my worries. Either I had faded in and out upon finding Sadie’s dead body, or someone had seen me previously and knew exactly what I was. Now no doubt remained. A blackmailer in Summit’s Edge wanted me to take the fall for killing Sadie.

I was about to fold the letter away when more writing toward the bottom of the sheet caught my attention.

YOU HAVE FORTY-EIGHT HOURS TO TURN YOURSELF IN.

I took the letter with me and ran all the way to the library. Monica was just heading out, but I grabbed her arm and dragged her back inside. She didn’t ask questions but walked with me into the audio/visual room.

She closed the door. “What’s going on?”

I pressed the letter into her hands and faded. She read over it, and her eyes widened, mouth going slack. After some moments, she looked at me. “Who would want the case solved quickly?

I thought about it. “Well, Ken blamed me right off. I tried to talk to him, but he’s so hurt and scared.”

“I heard at the restaurant yesterday, his parents are on the way.”

I sighed in relief. “That’s good.”

She nodded. “Maybe I can talk to Ken. He came into Gatsky’s for a burger. He seemed listless, but I got him talking a little.”

“What about?”

“Nothing important, but with a little prompting?”

“Yes, let’s do it.” I thought of what Ian had said, that I was using Monica and putting her life on hold. I would help solve this case for Clark, enjoy Monica and Jake just a little longer, and then I would go away. Maybe if I wandered some, I might at last feel that tether Ian told me about, and it would lead me to where my body was. I hadn’t worked up the nerve to leave Summit’s Edge to travel with Monica to towns and cities nearby. Maybe I needed to be braver and venture farther. I had to try.

“Are you okay?” Monica studied my face, and I faded it out so she couldn’t see me but heard my voice.

“I’m fine. Let’s go before you’re late.”

“Okay.” She tucked the letter in her purse, and we left together. I stayed out of sight while she walked over to the restaurant. As we drew up to it, I groaned seeing a customer peering through the hardware store’s front window. Funny how I tended to forget I had a job and was not a “free spirit.”

“Signal me when he comes in. I’ll be at the store,” I whispered to Monica and zoomed across the street. After I had fazed through the door and unlocked it from the other side, I greeted my customer and then helped him find what he needed. I ran up two more purchases and wrote down an order before spotting Monica waving to me from the restaurant.

I taped a quick note of I’ll Be Right Back to the door and pretended to forget something inside the restaurant. Then I willed myself to appear in the restaurant. I wondered briefly who might be watching my shenanigans and hoped for the best. At the end of the aisle I occupied, Monica took Ken’s order. His shoulders were slumped, his clothing wrinkled, and from the bloodshot eyes, I guessed he hadn’t slept.
Poor thing.

I slid into his booth on the other side, avoiding his long legs stretched out beneath. Monica brought him a soda, and he stuck the straw in and began sipping, eyes downcast. The seat beside me sank, and I scooted over just in time for Monica not to sit on top of me.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?” she said and patted his hand. “Your parents on the way?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t look up.

“Um.” Monica glanced my way. I couldn’t risk whispering to her what I wanted her to ask. “I was thinking, maybe if you stay in town, you could get a job here. The tips are okay, and since there’s only one good restaurant, we get all the customers, so there’s work.”

He looked at her. Instead of being grateful, he seemed resentful. “I want to work in law enforcement.”

“Cool.” Monica leaned toward him. “So you want to be a cop?”

He cringed. “No, a crime scene investigator.”

“Oh.”

“That’s not going to happen now.”

“Why?”

He shoved his cola away and lowered his head. “For one thing I screwed up at the station. Chief Givens will never let me work there again. I wanted the experience before I finish high school, but…”

“Maybe Libby can talk to him. She’s good friends with the chief.”

“Libby?” Ken spat, and both Monica and I started.

“If you’re thinking my friend had anything to do with your grandmother’s death, you’re wrong!”

“I don’t think that.”

Again, we were both surprised. Monica opened her mouth, but Ken cut her off.

“Ask your friend to talk to her boyfriend’s sister! She’s got all the secrets.” He tossed a crumpled bill on the table and banged the entry door open before disappearing.

“Well,” Monica muttered. “I don’t know what to think about that.”

“I don’t either,” I whispered beside her, “but…” I told her quickly about seeing Monica on the street and following her but losing track.

Monica’s expression turned suspicious, and then she almost bounced with excitement. “Oh, something tells me little miss Isabelle is up to no good. What a coop that would be if it comes out that the chief’s sister killed Sadie.”

“We don’t know that, Monica.”

She would not be calmed until one of the other waitresses asked her to get back to work and stop talking to herself. Monica tossed the woman a sarcastic but happy response and bounced up from the booth to serve her customers. I decided I needed to have a chat with Isabelle and to stop putting it off.

* * * *

As it turned out, I had to wait until after Isabelle’s shift at the hospital to talk to her. I spent time at the hardware store working and then went with Monica to pick up Jake. Then after I had prepared dinner for my son, I left him with Monica to return to the hospital grounds. I waited outside the main entrance in an area where benches had been set in a small grove of trees. An occasional elderly person wandered into the area to rest, but mostly I was alone. Away from view of the hospital windows, I turned invisible to conserve energy and as not to draw what I needed from the sick within its walls. As I stared up at the building, I recalled the time Monica and I had the idea that my body could lay within the hospital. I had then roamed every nook and cranny of the place from the top floor to the basement. The pain and disappointment I had felt when there was nowhere else to look still weighted my spirit, and I dismissed the thought.