Chapter 6
AT TEN o’clock the next morning, I had another interview with a potential client. Two in two days. Wow. I might actually get the rent paid on time if this kept up. The client, who had sounded very nervous over the phone, was one Ellen Boyd. She was very vague about what she needed to see me about, preferring to tell me in person.
Ellen Boyd turned out to be in her early thirties and would have been very pretty except for the circles under her eyes. She sat across the desk from me and tried to smile. It wasn’t a successful attempt. She wore black slacks and a red blouse. Her fingers drummed on the arm of her chair. “A friend of mine recommended you,” she said. She was having a hard time looking at anything but the edge of the desk. “Penny Van Orten. You helped her find a missing necklace.”
I remembered. It had been fairly easy to find, since it had been stolen by her teenage son, who had intended to pawn it. The whole case had taken only a couple of hours of my time. I also found the Van Orten house to be haunted by the ghost of a previous owner. Penny Van Orten had actually been hoping that the ghost had mischievously hidden the necklace, not wanting to believe her precious son to be guilty. The fact that I could see the spirit inhabiting their home had impressed Mrs. Van Orten. “I remember her,” I said.
Ellen Boyd bit her lip before continuing. “Penny said that you knew things, could see things, that other people can’t. She said you had an ability to communicate with….” She stopped. “God, this is so hard.”
“She told you I can see ghosts,” I said helpfully.
That got me a smile. “I never believed such things existed before a few months ago. Tanner—that’s my husband—and the girls had been watching some scary movies one night. I was out with some friends. I never would have let the girls watch such trash myself. If I’d known….”
The air conditioning kicked on, causing her to jump. She composed herself and looked me in the eye for the first time. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with this,” she said, gathering her purse closer to her as if she was ready to leave. “You’re a private detective, not a ghost hunter.”
“I’m a bit of both. Relax, Mrs. Boyd. I’ve dealt with all sorts of things. There isn’t anything you can say that will shock me.”
She settled back into the chair. “Apparently in one of the movies some of the characters used a Ouija board to talk with a ghost. The girls thought this was a wonderful idea and wanted to use one. We don’t have a Ouija board, but Tanner cut out pieces of paper and lettered them, and then he carved a planchette out of a piece of wood.”
“He made his own spirit board.”
Ellen Boyd nodded. “Nothing happened. The three of them just had fun frightening each other. I was so mad when I got home and found out what Tanner had done. You hear all the time of how dangerous Ouija boards are. Tanner just laughed. He didn’t believe in ghosts, you see, so he thought it couldn’t do any harm.”
“And you?”
She frowned, confused. “And me what?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I didn’t before,” she admitted. “Strange things started happening after that, though. Little things at first. Lights on when I’d known we’d shut them off. Cabinets and drawers opening seemingly on their own. And then one night I saw her.”
“Her?”
Ellen Boyd brushed some of her long brunette strands off her face. “I was home alone. It was a couple of weeks after the little session with the spirit board. The girls were at soccer practice. Tanner was going to pick them up after he got off from work. It had just started to get dark, so it must have been about eight o’clock. I walked into the kitchen and there was a woman standing by the stove. She wasn’t entirely solid. I could see her, but I could also see through her. She sort of glowed blue.”
“Did she seem to notice you? Make any attempt to communicate?”
Ellen looked surprised that I wasn’t laughing at her story. “No. She just stood there for a second and then vanished.”
“Have you seen her since?”
She nodded. “Several times. Always just for a brief moment. Tanner thinks I’m seeing things. He also thinks I’m just forgetting to close the drawers and such. The lights coming on, he puts down to faulty wiring. The girls haven’t seen the woman, either. They do think that something is going on, though. They’ve had items moved from their rooms only to show up in different parts of the house. Annie, that’s my youngest, has also heard what she describes as weird moaning late at night.”
“But your husband has had no experiences?”
Smiling softly, Ellen Boyd replied, “That’s what he says. But he’s just a little too forced in his denial, if you know what I mean. Like he can’t get himself to admit to things he’s seen.”
I nodded. “And what would you like me to do?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Prove to me that I’m not crazy. Get rid of it.”
“There are several ghost hunting groups in the area. They can come in with their equipment and do an investigation. You don’t need a private detective for that. As for getting rid of the spirit, I’m sure you could find a priest willing to perform an exorcism on the house.”
There was something in her eyes, a nagging qualm that she was reluctant to voice. Ellen leaned forward in her chair, rubbing her hands over her chin and mouth in indecision. She blew out a lungful of air and sat back. “I’ve seen this woman before. Somewhere. I can’t remember where. Alive, I mean. She just… looked familiar. I described her to Tanner, and I swear he went pale. He said the description didn’t mean anything to him, but I could tell it did. Tanner knows who it is.”
“What did she look like?”
“She looked to be quite young, maybe in her late twenties. Kind of pretty, although that was hard to really tell, since she was blue, and I only have seen her for a few seconds at a time. She was tall, or at least several inches taller than me. She was wearing modern clothes. I mean, it wasn’t like she was in some Victorian gown. Just slacks and a blouse.”
I sighed. I hated to turn down work, but I also had to be honest with Ellen Boyd. “My services aren’t cheap. Like I said, you could find a ghost hunting group that will do the investigation for free, and—”
“I need to find out who she is,” Ellen Boyd blurted out. Realizing she’d spoken with more force than she’d meant, she regarded me sheepishly. “I’m sorry, but I know my husband is hiding something, and this… this ghost has something to do with that. I guess that’s why I came to you. I need you to find the connection between this woman and Tanner.”
I nodded. I figured that Ellen was probably reading too much into the situation. After all, suddenly sharing your home with a spirit can make one a little paranoid. Still, it should be easy for me to learn the identity of this mysterious ghost. I doubted if it would interfere with the Sanderson case, and who was I to turn down some extra money?
I looked over at a wall calendar the office building thoughtfully provided. It featured little kitties. Today was Tuesday. “I can come by Thursday night and check the house out, if you like. I’d like to have your husband there if it can be arranged, but it might be for the best if your daughters aren’t. Is there somewhere they can go for an evening?”
“My mother can watch them,” Ellen answered. She looked happier now that I’d agreed to take her case.
I just hoped she’d look as happy when it was all over.
TONIGHT. The message seemed to be coursing through his veins. It was time. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed the flesh.
It had been so long, but he could still recall the taste. The taste of life. There was more to it than just replenishing himself, though. He enjoyed the killing. He enjoyed cutting into their bodies and feeling the life leave them. He liked the look of shock on their faces when they realized that they were witnessing their last few moments on this earth. He liked the feel of the knife as he plunged it into the soft flesh.
The man sat down in his living room on a wooden chair by the window. Outside there was little to see. A squirrel was making its way across the lawn to the big oak tree. The squirrel was flesh, of course, but the man had no interest in it. Surely such a small creature would not satisfy the mystical forces that enabled the man to live. Without thinking he found that his right hand had reached up to his chest to ensure that the amulet was there, that it was safe. It was. He could feel the worn wood beneath his shirt. He knew that the magic inside the amulet was damaged and that, maybe, there would come a day when it would no longer work. It would no longer allow him to be a man. Would he then revert to what he was, or would he simply die when the magic was all used up? He didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t care. Some of the symbols carved onto the wood were so worn now that if he hadn’t known what they were supposed to represent, he would have no idea what they were.
At one time he’d thought about trying to re-carve the amulet, to make those symbols stand out again. He didn’t have the ability, but he could find someone who did. Maybe he could find a witch to carve the symbols into the wood. Maybe a witch would give the amulet even more magic, enabling the man to live even longer. Maybe he wouldn’t start to age after that, and he could just live forever as a young, vibrant man who had no taste for the flesh.
The man laughed. Witches had all but destroyed his kind. He would never find one who would work on the amulet. He just had to accept that the magic was flawed, and that every now and then he would feel the need for the flesh again. That was okay. He liked the flesh.
The man stood. The knife was calling. It was time.