How to Kill a Ghost

How to Kill A Ghost

(A Libby Grace Mystery – Book 3)

By

Audrey Claire

How to Kill A Ghost

Copyright © August 2014, Audrey Claire

Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

I expected to leave Summit’s Edge with Isabelle on my journey to find out the truth behind Peter Jenkins’s death as it associated with me. A part of me was sad to leave Jake, but excitement also coursed through my being. I might get my body back within the next few days. I might learn the truth about what happened to me. Most importantly of all, I might get my life back on track. Of course, what I should have recalled was that said life did not seem to
want
to get itself together. Difficulties often arose, throwing everything into chaos. This time murder didn’t delay Isabelle’s and my departure. Sickness did.

Jake lay in his bed, curled into a tiny ball, and he moaned with his eyes shut, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. I didn’t like the look of him and touched the backs of my fingers to his forehead. I made the move from habit, but as a spirit who had misplaced her body, I had no direct contact with the physical world. I couldn’t feel any perspiration on Jake’s skin. Nor could I tell if he had a temperature just by touching him.

“Jake, sweetie, how are you feeling?”

My son rolled over, and his eyes fluttered open. “Mom, can I stay home today?”

I wrinkled my forehead as I studied him. “Are you faking sick so you don’t have to take art class with Mrs. Gillespie?”

“Nooo.”

I heard little conviction in the answer. No one would believe I had the only child in existence who didn’t enjoy art class. Jake loved books, and if I didn’t encourage him to come out into the light of the world sometimes, he might be just as much of a recluse as my neighbor and semi-boyfriend Ian McClain. I say semi-boyfriend because I hadn’t come to a firm conclusion of our relationship, what with me being a ghost and him being a vampire. The logistics of such a union made no sense.

“I’m going to get the thermometer, and we’ll see,” I told Jake and made good on my promise. To my surprise, the reading said one hundred one degrees, and as if on cue, Jake coughed without covering his mouth. “Oh dear, you really are sick, aren’t you, pumpkin?”

I waited for Jake to make a smart remark, but he just blinked at me, cheeks red, eyelids droopy. My heart constricted, and I gave him medicine to bring his fever down then sat with him a few hours while he slept.

Early on during my experience of being a ghost, I had learned I drew energy from living beings. Through Ian, I had also discovered that I could somewhat control the level at which I drew this energy. I had since then made a conscious effort never to draw from children and certainly not from my son. So, when I could no longer hold my form, I leaned over to check that Jake was asleep and then faded from view. I sighed although I didn’t need to and shut my own eyes, careful not to let my mind drift lest I find myself halfway across town and hours having slipped by without my notice.

“I knew it,” came a scratchy, struggling voice.

Dread filled my being, and I slitted my eyes to peer at Jake. He was just as sickly-looking as he’d appeared when I entered his bedroom that morning, but now he sat up blinking in my general direction, mouth agape. After all my running through walls from room to room in order to protect my secret, I couldn’t have given it up this easily. Jake must be talking in his sleep.

“I knew you were a ghost, Mom. I just knew it!”

My consoling thoughts scattered in a million different directions.

I opened my mouth to deny his claim and remembered I was indeed invisible. Instead I willed myself into the hallway outside his room. Not needing to breathe as doing so was for a physical body, I drew in a deep breath anyway and turned the knob to his door. I pasted a smile on my face as I stuck my head around the frame, fully visible. “Jake, sweetie, did you say something? You should be getting some rest.”

His small face crinkled in concentration. I waited, praying he would accept the situation for what it seemed to be. Then after a few moments, he shook his head slowly, and I knew the jig was up.

“You’re always somewhere else all of a sudden, Mom. Ghosts can do that. You don’t eat food. Ghosts can’t eat.” He ticked the points off on his fingers, sealing my doom. “And the weirdest part is—you
feel
funny.”

My mouth fell open. I didn’t have an argument. I could deny all day and night, but the conviction in his tone said nothing would change his mind. Feel funny he’d said. That
was
the biggest issue. Even Monica had remarked on it. When I first kissed her cheek after I had become a ghost, she’d drawn away in shock and in essence said I was creepy. I had transferred my kisses for Jake to the top of his head to avoid skin contact, which I hated doing. However, it looked like it hadn’t been enough.

As I formulated what I would say to Jake, a coughing fit hit him, and he hunched forward, his little shoulders shaking. I rushed to his bedside and tucked him beneath the covers. Out of habit, I checked his forehead once again. His eyes fluttered closed.

“We can talk about it later, Mom, okay?” He yawned. I bit my bottom lip in worry.

“Jake, are you…” I stroked his hair from his forehead wishing I could feel the silky threads. I had been about to ask him if he was afraid of me, but that would mean I accepted him knowing my secret. I wasn’t ready to give in. “Rest up, sweetie. I’ll make you some soup a little later.”

After I was sure he slept, I quietly left the room the old-fashioned way and shut the door. Late morning, Isabelle arrived, and I let her in. We headed to my kitchen, and I made her a cup of coffee and sliced a piece of cinnamon apple streusel cake for her to enjoy with it. My thoughts were still on Jake and what I would do about him, but I forced myself to move past my fears and focus on a solution to my problem.

“I wondered what happened when you didn’t show at my house,” she commented. “At first I thought you were invisible because Clark was late leaving for the station. Imagine how foolish I felt whispering for you.” She chuckled, and I groaned.

“I’m sorry, Isabelle, but I can’t leave with Jake sick. Now I have another problem.” I sank into a seat across from her at my kitchen table and explained how Jake had found out about me being a ghost. “Sometimes I feel like I’m destined to be lost forever, and this is one of those times.”

“No,” she insisted, “we mustn’t give up hope. Jake will be fine. He loves you no matter what your physical condition. There’s… Well, it might be good that we weren’t able to leave right now.”

I frowned at her, trying to glean what she meant? “Did something happen?”

She hesitated, a distant look in her eyes as if she too had much on her mind. “Not exactly. Attend to your little one. We’ll figure out our next steps, Libby. Don’t you worry. Just be patient.”

Easier said than done.

I tried to get Isabelle talking about what was on her mind, but she remained close-lipped. When she had finished her coffee and cake, she pushed her chair back and stood then gathered her dishes. I headed her off to take care of them myself, preferring not to feel helpless, especially in my own home.

“I’ll brew something to help Jake feel better faster,” Isabelle promised. “But I don’t have anything that’ll help him forget your secret.”

Her words made me think of Ian’s ability to erase memories, but I didn’t consider him at all in this situation.

“Are you sure you can take care of Jake in your state?”

That question arose no matter what the circumstances. I could pretend to be a solid, living being, and I had extended the time in which I could hold my form before needing to wink out and conserve energy. However, in the end, even those closest to me like Monica and Isabelle questioned my ability to care for Jake. The problem was, I didn’t need them to. I questioned myself on a daily basis, and with this setback, I had to think if now was the time to let go. Jake deserved better than a mother who couldn’t feel when he was too warm from a fever. If he had had no other symptoms, how long would my little boy have suffered? The thought frightened me.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ll decide soon. This setback has opened my eyes to know that I can’t put it off. Once and for all, I need to do what’s best for Jake.”

Alarm came into Isabelle’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to say you should let him go, Libby. I know we’re going to get your body back. I promise we will.”

She hugged me, and I accepted the affection for an instant then drew away. “You can’t make that promise.”

“Libby…”

“It’s fine.”

I walked Isabelle to the door and watched as she strode with purpose down the walkway. At her car, she turned to face me as she opened the door. I waved, but she didn’t seem to see. Something bugged her, and I longed to know what it was. Over the last few weeks of being a ghost, my curiosity had increased. Worse, I acted on it more often than not, delving into places and people’s lives where I wouldn’t have done so before. I wasn’t proud of it, but I had helped to solve a couple of mysteries in Summit’s Edge, assisting Clark Givens, the chief of police and Isabelle’s brother. Of course, my state of being had also
caused
a few incidents, but I didn’t let that get me down.

I wanted to follow Isabelle to see what she worried over and figure out a way to help if possible. Instead, I remained where I stood, thinking of Jake. As I peered up and down the street, I noted how peaceful my neighborhood remained. No one would have ever guessed amid the serenity lived a ghost and a vampire. Thinking of Ian, I glanced toward his house, right next door to mine. I could walk across my lawn connected to his and arrive at his front door within seconds. On the other hand, I could will myself into his library room, which I often did, and he never seemed to mind.

We, Ian and I, were together. Even in my own mind, I hesitated to fully acknowledge it. Maybe because Ian still confused me. I wasn’t afraid of him even though I knew he could say a chant that would banish me forever from this world and from Jake. I knew in my heart Ian would never do it. I had no doubt that he cared about me. We had kissed, an ability that surprised me. I had sat on his lap and been held in his arms. I enjoyed it, but something separated us, whether it was on my part because I was a ghost or on his being a vampire. The barrier existed. For now, we ignored it and enjoyed each other’s company. Some day, I hoped the obstacle would dissolve.

I headed back into the house. Whether I chose to speak with Ian about Jake finding out my secret—not to get him to erase my son’s memory of course—it had to wait. He wouldn’t rise from slumber until after nightfall. That fact was just one more challenge in our weird relationship.

Sometimes I walked over to Ian’s house the normal way, like crossing my lawn to his. I went through the ritual of knocking on his door rather than blink in. I think it made me feel like an ordinary woman, as if I were tethered to the earth as I should be and not liable to float off into the stratosphere. Tonight, I needed that normalcy, what with Jake knowing my secret and unsure of my path.

I rapped on Ian’s door and waited. He liked to show off his abilities by making the door open without touching it. At least that’s how I viewed it. Nothing stirred inside, and I grew impatient and annoyed. Another quality to my sort of boyfriend was that he loved books, and he could get engrossed in one more than Jake. The common passion was probably what drew the two together.