CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The original Cedar Springs Public Library was basically empty when Sabrina entered it later that afternoon with Andrew. It was the oldest building in Cedar Springs, one of those places where you felt that you were entering another world as soon as the massive oak double doors slammed shut behind you. Once you were in the ancient building, the sun could be blindingly bright outside and you’d never know it.

“Why did we need to come here?” Sabrina asked as Andrew led them to an antique wooden table in the back corner. “I thought we were looking for Amy Hansons’s obituary online.” She’d told Andrew about the name scrawled across her mirror — and that she suspected it belonged to the ghostly girl who kept appearing. Andrew was her best shot at confirming her identity and discovering why she kept visiting Sabrina. She had debated asking Nash for help as well, but her gut told her to leave him and Patricia out of it for now. After all, the girl had warned her about Nash and Patricia in the first place.

“I want to hack into the library’s server,” Andrew told her. “A lot of these obituary databases make you pay if the death was more than a few years ago. If we do it here, I can use the library’s passwords so we can get it for free and we won’t leave a virtual footprint.”

While Andrew settled into his seat and pulled out his laptop, Sabrina considered what he’d just told her about the connection between Greenly and Robert Carpenter.

“It’s weird Greenly never said anything about knowing him. Like after Lily was murdered, in the news or something,” she said.

“I said the same thing to Nash,” Andrew told her. “The newspaper was doing stories on this woman every day for a month. They would have loved a quote from someone who once knew her ex. Especially at the beginning, when Robert was still a suspect.”

“Right. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned that he knew the guy? If he had nothing to hide.”

Andrew pulled up a local database. “What’s the girl’s name again?”

“Amy Hanson.” Little goose bumps raised on her arms again at the mention of it.

His hands flew across the keyboard. “I’m not seeing a local match.”

Sabrina’s heart sank. “Don’t worry,” Andrew told her. “I’m just getting started.”

He clicked on a few different search engines, broadening the parameters in the hope that that would yield something more conclusive. The hits started popping up, one after another. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I’ve got at least ten deceased Amy Hansons here!” He reddened as the librarian looked over at him, realizing he shouldn’t sound quite so excited about a bunch of dead women.

Sabrina suddenly felt a chill in the air. If there was any place for spirits to hang out, it was in an ancient library like this one. Her eyes darted around the room and she sucked in her breath when an elderly man hobbled by their table. He looked so pale … was it possible he was …

“I can see him, too,” Andrew whispered.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Habit now. Okay, look for an Amy Hanson who died as a teenager. So far, these ghosts seem to appear to me at the age they were when they died.”

It took him about ten seconds to check the first six obituaries. Then, “Got it.”

She scooted her chair closer to look at the grainy yearbook photo Andrew pointed at.

Instantly, she recognized the face.

Amy’s black hair was swept over one shoulder, her almond eyes boring into the camera. She wasn’t smiling for the photo — she looked as if she’d just seen something she didn’t approve of.

“That’s her,” Sabrina whispered.

“She’s from New Mexico, died in 2007,” Andrew said. “She was a senior at North Valley High School, survived by her mom, aunt and uncle. There was a memorial service at school held two days later but no information about a church service.”

Sabrina read the obituary herself, disappointed. “It doesn’t say how she died. It barely says anything.”

Andrew opened a new window and ran several more searches on Amy Hanson now that he knew where she was from. When archived articles came up from the local newspaper, he clicked on the first one, adjusting his laptop so Sabrina could read it, too.

February 5, 2007

North Valley — A tragic car accident took the lives of five North Valley High School students late last night amid one of the worst flash floods the city has seen in years. Amy Hanson, Catherine Freeman, Christopher Jarvis, Kevin Beswick and Danielle Wenkie were crossing the Rio Puerco Bridge around 11 p.m. when Hanson apparently lost control of her car. Though the families of the teens don’t believe any foul play was involved, others who knew the deceased are not as certain. An administrator at North Valley High, who prefers to remain anonymous, suggested drugs or alcohol might have been involved. “All five of these kids were troubled. We’re talking clinical depression, social anxiety. I’m not saying they weren’t good kids. There was just something off with all of them. They were loners. It was news to me they even knew each other.” Another student, who was on the varsity baseball team with Kevin Beswick, concurred. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this little get-together had something to do with drugs,” he noted. “Why else would these five be together?”

Sabrina was filled with unexpected sadness, her connection to Amy having more impact on her than she’d thought. “She died in the water. That’s why she’s always sopping wet when I see her.” She looked at Andrew, who was practically jumping out of his seat. “What is it?”

“I think I know why she’s coming to you. And it’s not because of Lily or Devon.” He glanced at the screen again, as if part of him didn’t want to say it out loud. “Five teenagers, all troubled, all loners, who hadn’t previously been friends.”

It finally clicked for Sabrina.

“Just like us,” she whispered.

“And this girl keeps showing up, telling you not to trust Patricia and Nash.”

Sabrina locked eyes with him. “They can’t be …”

“Another group of Lost Causes.”