Fourteen Days (14 page)

“Have you told Nicky about this?”

“What—about the poster?” He shook his head. “No chance. It’s not worth it. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to convince her, but she just won’t have it. You know how stubborn she is.”

“Well, I think she’s going to struggle trying to rationalize
this
.”

He was unconvinced. “I don’t know—we’ve had so many arguments about this, I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“It’s up to you, but let me tell you, as much as I believe that spirits exist, this is probably the most blatant case I have ever come across. Seriously. People come to me with stories about ghosts and all sorts, and most, like Nicky says, have logical explanations—but yours…”

He took the poster from her and looked at the image again. “So what do we do now?”

“You have to get in touch with this person.” She leaned over and glanced at the writing on the poster. “Carl Jones. I’m guessing he’s the boyfriend or brother.”

“Or husband.”

“Doubtful—different surname. You have to tell him what you know.”

Richard shook his head in protest. “No bloody way. He’ll think I’m
nuts
. And I’m not the right guy to go and tell someone that their girlfriend, or wife, or whatever, is dead. I don’t have it in me.”

“So what do you want to do, then?” she asked, firmly.

He shrugged. “I don’t know—send him a text message, or maybe an e-mail. I don’t know. I really don’t. How the
hell
do I explain to a grieving guy that the woman who he believes is just missing is now a ghost that haunts my house? He’ll probably call the police—probably get me sent to the nuthouse.”

“You’ll just have to force the evidence on him. And don’t stop ’til you get through—no matter
how
hard it gets. You have to at least try, Rich. This is what she wants you to do. This is why she’s still here. This is the only way to get rid of her forever. I’m sure of it.”

He listened stubbornly, but knew she spoke the truth. And the idea of coming home and not being scared witless was a very tempting proposal. He rubbed his face, worn-out from all the tension, all the excitement. Even someone with impeccable blood pressure would have struggled to cope with everything he had gone through over the past week. And now he was about to push his stress levels even further. But Richard knew he had to do it, knew that he had to speak to this man. With or without a clean bill of health. No one else was going to do it for him. He couldn’t exactly ask Karen to step up; she had already done so much for him. And it was his mess after all, his problem, his ghost. “All right,” he said, defeated. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to the guy.”

She smiled proudly. “That’s great. It’ll be fine, I’m positive. Have a little faith.”

Frowning, he shook his head at the prospect of actually going through with it. “But if I get arrested, or sent to the nuthouse, you can explain everything to Nicky, all right?”

Nodding, Karen grinned. “No problem. I’ll even bail you out of prison myself.”

Richard didn’t return the smile; instead he just sat, staring down at the phone number on the poster, sighing loudly. He pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number. Before he pushed the green ‘call’ button, he turned to Karen. His stomach was knotted tightly. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is stupid. Really stupid.”

“It’ll be
fine
,” she said quietly.

He pushed the button and held the phone to his ear. Then, out of the blue, he frantically pushed the ‘end’ button. “How should I tell him?”

“Just ask to meet him or something. Don’t tell him too much over the phone, he may hang up on you.”

Richard nodded, then pushed the ‘call’ button for a second time, setting it to loudspeaker. He gawked at the phone as he held it, and then at Karen, his body filled with dread. He listened anxiously as the call connected. After several rings, he was gladly about to hang up, but then the muffled sound of a man’s voice came through the phone’s tiny speaker. Richard’s mouth suddenly dried up, spreading instantly down to his voice box. Clearing his throat noisily, he spoke. “Oh, hello. Is this Carl Jones?”

“Yes—speaking,” Carl replied.

“Well, you don’t know me, but…” he paused to gather himself. “I really need to speak to you in person about something.”

“Speak to me about what?”

Sighing loudly as he saw Karen’s encouraging eyes, he replied, “It’s about…” He closed his eyes. “…it’s about Christina Long.” He then shook his head, waiting for a response.

The line went silent for several seconds, until finally Carl spoke. “Is this a joke?” he quietly asked, as if saddened and exhausted.

“No, it’s not. Can we meet?”

Carl paused again. “Who is this?” he asked, his voice sounding firmer.

“My name’s Richard Gardener. I live in Bristol.”

“How do you know Christina
?
”

“Please, I don’t want to do this over the phone—can we meet up?”

“Do you know where she is
?
”

Richard looked at Karen and shrugged, mouthing the words, “What should I tell him?” She returned a shrug, along with a look of terror. Returning his attention to the phone, he replied, “No, I don’t, but I really need to speak to you. I don’t want to talk over the phone. I’m not some weirdo, I swear. Please—just give me five minutes of your time. That’s it.”

Silence filled the room as they waited nervously for Carl’s answer.

Fifteen seconds passed. Richard wondered if Carl had disconnected. “Hello? Are you still there?”

“I live on Riverside Park. The new houses. Number 134. I’ll be home all day
.
”

“Great. I’ll be over right away.”

“Okay,” Carl said, barely audible. “I’ll see you later
.
”

He hung up before Richard could say another word.

Richard let out a long breath of relief as he pushed the ‘end’ button on the phone. “That went well,” he sarcastically told Karen.

“We knew it was going to be hard. At least he’s agreed to meet you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he groaned. “But that was horrible. He sounded really upset. I don’t think I can face him.”

“You’ve got to now—he’s expecting you.”

“I know, I know. I just really can’t believe that any of this is happening. Just the other day my life was ordinary.” He shook his head in disbelief. “But now…”

“I know what you’re saying, but this man clearly needs closure, even if it means upsetting him.” She hesitated, and then continued. “What if it was Nicky?” She looked at him with worried eyes. “Wouldn’t
you
want to know?”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Look, why don’t I come with you for moral support?”

His face lit up with elation. “Really? You’d do that?”

She nodded. “I don’t mind. I’ll have to cancel some clients, but…”

Deflated, he shook his head. “No, I’ll go by myself. I don’t want you to cancel clients and lose money. It’s not fair to you
or
them.”

“Listen, this is more important.”

“I know, but I can’t let you do it. And besides, I think it would be better as a one-to-one chat. It might be a little intimidating with the two of us standing at his door.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Thanks anyway.”

Karen glanced at her watch and then stood. “Look, I need to get back to work now, so let me know how it goes. And if you need anything, just give me a call.”

Richard stood and led her out of the living room to the front door. “Thanks for everything, Karen. I’ll keep you posted. If he hasn’t beaten me to death first.”

She smiled as she stepped outside. “Good luck. Just stay calm and empathize, put yourself in his place. You’ll be fine.”

“All right. I’ll try.”

He waved to Karen as she crossed the road to her car. When she finally drove off, he closed the door and leaned against the porch wall, exhaling.

What the hell are you about to do, Gardener?

You’re bloody crazy.

Several wrong turns later, Richard managed to locate Riverside Park and the home of Carl Jones. He parked the car a few meters away and sat with the engine off, trying to pluck up the courage to knock on the front door.
What in God’s name are you doing?
That was the thought resounding continuously in his head. He tried to block out the words but couldn’t. Instead, he was forced to ignore them.

Holding onto the steering wheel tightly, as if hanging frantically off a cliff edge, he thought of Nicky—and if indeed Christina
was
Carl’s wife—how awful must it be to lose the woman you love. The idea filled him with despair. But that was exactly the emotion he needed to find the motivation to go through with this. Like Karen said, he had to empathize with him. Carl had lost someone very important to him, and Richard had found her. Carl needed to know the truth, no matter how terrible and heart-wrenching. Closure would hopefully end both their miseries. Carl would be able to move on, and Richard would get his life back—and his house.

After almost thirty minutes, he grudgingly climbed out of the car. He marched across the road, toward the semi-detached house, breathing profusely, his heart pounding heavily against his chest, his palms sweaty.

Come on, Rich, you’ve been through worse things than this. Pull it together
.

But he hadn’t been through worse things than this. Nothing came close. And shutting out that factor was imperative if he had any hope of speaking to Carl.

As he walked through the small metal gate, past the small front lawn, toward the house, the front door suddenly swung open before Richard even had the chance to knock. Standing in the doorway was a man, late-thirties, slightly overweight, with short brown hair. His face was clearly wrinkled from age and stress; his eyes were dark and reddened. He had obviously been waiting for Richard’s arrival.

“Hi, you must be Carl,” Richard said, apprehensively walking up to him and holding out a hand. “I’m Richard.”

Reluctantly, Carl took his hand and shook it. “So what do you know about Christina?” he asked, defensively and straight-to-the-point.

“I assume that she’s your wife, yes?” Richard asked, trying to disguise the tension that plagued his entire body.

“My girlfriend,” he corrected with a distrustful tone in his voice. “She’s been missing for almost a year.”

Richard nodded. “Oh, right. I wasn’t sure.”

“Look, let’s cut to the chase,” Carl said abruptly. “Do you know where she is? Since our phone call, I came
seriously
close to calling the police, but I stopped myself. So, if you know something significant, then don’t piss me about. Tell me what you know.”

Richard could sense in his tone that Carl was terrified to ask if his girlfriend was in fact dead. He knew that he needed to just blurt it out, but couldn’t. His heart was calling for him to say the truth, yet his head was screaming:
Run home, you idiot! Run home!

“Well? Do you know something or what?” Carl snapped.

Richard had no choice but to speak. “I live with my wife over in Clifton. We’ve lived there for about six months. And lately—” He braced himself. “—I’ve been seeing a woman in my house.”

Frowning in irritation, Carl said, “You’re saying that you’ve been seeing
my
Christina over at your house?”

He nodded. “Yes. For the last couple of weeks. And—”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Carl interrupted. His expression changed from a look of frustration to wild rage. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve been sleeping with
my
girlfriend, while I’ve been worried sick for the past year?”

Grimacing in confusion, Richard added, “No, I…” Then he realized how his words had sounded. “Look, I didn’t mean ‘seeing her’ like sleeping with her or anything. I meant she’s—”

“She’s what?” he snapped, cutting him off again. “What are you on about?”

Richard sighed, then quietly, without making eye contact, said, “She’s dead.”

Silence gripped both men. Richard glanced at Carl; his face appeared calm. But suddenly Carl reached forward, grabbed Richard by his collar, and forced him up against the wall of the house. “What are you trying to
do
to me?” Carl screamed, spitting as he spoke. “You’re talking about the woman I love! What is wrong with you? Why would you say this to me?”

Richard grasped Carl’s wrists, trying to prize them away from him without success. “Look, I swear to God.” He struggled with the words. “Christina’s spirit is in my house. I know how it sounds, but believe me, it’s the truth. I didn’t know who she was until I saw your poster up in the supermarket. I’m telling you the truth. Do you really think I would want to put myself through all this if I didn’t think you needed to know?”

“You’re just some nutcase who gets his kicks out of hurting other people! You have no idea the hell I’ve been through! Do you!”

“Look, I thought you needed closure. I’m married, and I know I would want someone to do the same for me.
Please
.”

Carl wrenched him away from the wall and threw him onto the small lawn. Richard rolled, landing on his back. Getting to his feet immediately, he stepped back, palms held out in defense. “Please, Carl, the last thing I wanted to do was upset you, but I had to come. I saw someone in my house. A woman.”