End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (32 page)

Chapter Seventy-One

ELENA

It didn’t take long for
word to spread at work that Eric and I had gotten back together or for Lieutenant
Adams to call us into his office as Eric’s shift was ending and mine was
beginning.

“Shut the door and sit
down.”

We complied and sat in
the chairs in front of his desk. He regarded us with a frown and shook his
head.

“I’ve been hearing a
rumor…and normally it isn’t my business and HR will shit a brick if they knew I
asked you this, but…are you back together?” For one normally in control of the
room, he was flustered. He couldn’t look either one of us in the eyes and his
neck turned red, standing out against his light beige shirt collar. “Because it
was a real pain in the ass – you especially Hernandez – when y’all divorced. And
Wilcox, you were a pain in my ass when Hernandez was in the hospital – pulling
people off of their detail for her escort when any of the volunteers would have
sufficed. I’m going to say this only once: if you are together, keep the drama
away from work. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” we said in
unison. I wondered if this was what it was like to be in the principal’s office
getting a warning before being assigned detention, only worse.

“Good, now get to work.”

We stood up and hurried out
of his office. Eric followed me back to my desk and sat on the end, facing me.
He was smirking and I started laughing. “How awkward was that?” he asked.

“I thought his head was
going to spontaneously combust if it got any redder.”

I got my laughing under
control and plopped down into my chair. “So you were a pain in Adams’ ass?
What’s that all about?” I teased.

Eric’s ears turned red
and he glanced at me sideways. “I um,” he began and ran a hand over the top of
his short hair. “I insisted on being your escort home from the hospital and may
have bypassed getting approval to have you on the detail for that meth lab in
Seligman.”

“So you weren’t just
following orders?”

“No. I wasn’t thinking
about my job, Lena, only you.”

Damn, he never failed to
surprise me. I smiled up at him. “You’re such a romantic. The way to my heart
is a meth lab, huh?”

“No roses for my girl,”
he teased back and I laughed.

“So are you almost done
your shift?” I asked him as I read the docket for mine, which was just
beginning.

“Yeah, I’m going to hit
the gym and then crash. Are you coming over after?”

“Maybe. I’ll text you.”

He leaned over and kissed
me before standing up. “Okay, see you later, Lena. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eric walked away to a
chorus of cat calls from some of the guys. He flipped them off and I rolled my
eyes before focusing on the schedule for the night. It was going to be busy
with a missing teenager reported in Chino Valley and a Circle K had been robbed
at gunpoint. I unlocked the top desk drawer and pulled out my handgun. After
securing the safety, I slipped it into my belt and snapped the holster. I
grabbed a lukewarm cup of coffee from the break room and headed out to the
garage.

As I navigated the dark
streets of Chino Valley, I replayed the past week. I still hadn’t told my
parents that Eric and I were together. That was a conversation I needed to do
in person. Things were progressing well, almost like when we had first started
dating. I’d been operating in a sleep deprived state all week because either
Eric stayed over at my place or I crashed at his. With our alternating
schedules and renewed enthusiasm for each other, there wasn’t a whole lot of
sleep going on.

Where Eric and I were
making progress with our relationship, Gavin was making headway with the
medium. He called earlier in the day to report that they’d talked and were
going to meet over the weekend.

In addition to all of
this going on I received an invitation out of the blue to my best friend from
high school’s wedding. When she moved to San Diego for college, we drifted
apart. I usually only heard from her on my birthday and at Christmas. I had
been so absorbed in my divorce that I tried to stay away from happy people in
love. At that time, Penelope was one of those people.

I had to pull over as the
full realization of how many people I shut out hit me. The wall I carefully
constructed around myself crumbled into a million pieces. At first I had
difficulties breathing and took huge swallows of air, willing my lungs to
inflate. Then the tears came. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t used to being in such an
emotional state. I was Elena, always in control, always staying one step ahead
of everything. I was a survivor and here I sat, shuddering behind the wheel of
my cruiser on a quiet street in the high desert of Arizona.

I wasn’t alone. As I was
trying to pull myself together a lone figure came into view under the street
light. The person walking toward me matched the description of the girl we had
an Amber Alert out on, right down to the NAU hoodie. I dried my eyes with a
convenience store napkin and stepped out of the car.

“Maria Alvarez?” I
called.

The girl jerked like a
startled rabbit and looked up at me, her face partially concealed by a dark
veil of long, unkempt hair. She turned and started to run.    

“Please don’t Maria!” To
my relief, she stopped and spun back around. We stood there facing each other
under the dim light. I noted her puffy eyes and tear stained face probably
right around the same time she noticed mine.

“Your family is really
worried you know.”

“I can’t go back there.”

“Why not?”

She didn’t answer. Her
jaw stuck out defiantly, but that didn’t hide the tears trickling down her
cheeks.

“Are you in danger
there?” I asked. For all I knew her dad or stepdad could have been assaulting
her. In my line of work I had seen it all.

“No!” she cried. “It’s
nothing like that.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“No.” I heard her
suppress a laugh and her lips twitched with a restrained grin.

“Listen Maria, you caught
me having a moment here. It’s late and I think you’ve had one hell of a day.
Let me take you home and you can tell me about it on the way.”

She stood there a moment
longer before relaxing her shoulders and giving in. Breaking protocol, I had
her sit up front with me. The girl slid her backpack off and climbed in. I
called dispatch to let them know to cancel the Amber Alert; that Maria had been
found and was unharmed. There was relief in the dispatch operator’s voice as
she confirmed my report.

“Want to talk about it?”
I asked.   

“It’s complicated.”

“I know complicated.”

“Fine. I hate school so I
cut to hang with this guy, but he was being such a douchebag. I knew I’d get in
trouble so I didn’t want to go home. I hate this town and just want to leave,
but it turns out, I don’t have anywhere to go.” Her words spilled out so
quickly, it was as though she verbally threw up on me.

“What you’re experiencing
is completely normal.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Maria wasn’t the first
teenager to feel oppressed by her small town environment and she certainly
wouldn’t be the last. Fortunately she was found before anything bad happened to
her. I thought of Georgia and how she died. Maria didn’t know how quickly a
desperate young girl could fall prey to the world and I was happy to deliver her
home in one piece.

I pulled into the gravel
driveway, my headlights illuminating a small, beige stucco ranch, one of
several on this street. An abandoned swing set stood at a crooked lean in the
side yard. A middle-aged couple burst through the front door and ran out to
meet us.

Maria sighed and grabbed
her backpack off of the floor from between her feet.

“Maria, you may feel
suffocated now, but there are a lot of girls out there who don’t have families
to worry about them. Figure out what you want out of life and stick to it. Your
parents will support you.” I handed her my card. “Call me before you think
about doing something like this again and we’ll talk. Okay?”

Maria nodded and took the
business card, sliding it into the front pocket of her bag. “Thanks for listening,”
she said before exiting the car where she was immediately enveloped in a group
hug. The worry faded from her parents’ tearstained faces as they held their
daughter and realized she was unharmed.

I left the Alvarez’s
after a tearful thank you from Maria’s mom. I drove back towards Prescott, my
own crisis forgotten for the moment as I basked in the afterglow of doing my
job and having a good outcome. I liked being able to help people, especially during
a difficult time in their life. The high stakes made my adrenaline flow.

I thought about the
ghosts and finally being able to help them, as long as Gavin was successful in
convincing the medium to work with us.

Chapter Seventy-Two

Sunday afternoon rolled
around and since I wasn’t expecting Gavin, I knew what I needed to do. Sitting
up in bed, I was careful not to wake Eric as he had worked later than me and
didn’t get in until close to eight in the morning. After getting ready, I
quickly scribbled a note, leaving it next to the coffee pot.

I pulled in front of the
house and stopped. A car was in the driveway and one side of the garage was
open, revealing the tailgate of a silver Toyota pick-up. They were both home.
Taking a deep breath, I got out and walked up the front walkway past the lamppost
and terracotta planters full of cacti.

Despite my warnings about
home invasions, the door was unlocked and I walked into the house. Cool air
greeted me and familiar voices echoed off the foyer walls. I followed them into
the kitchen where my parents were having a heated debate over how much
lunchmeat to put on a sandwich. My mother patted my father’s stomach saying he
needed to watch his portions.

“This is the fun you two
are having with the kids out of the house?” I asked and my mom yelped, spinning
around holding a hand over her heart.

“Elena, don’t sneak up on
your mother like that! Are you trying to scare me to death?”  After being
thoroughly chastised, she hugged me and told me to sit, then proceeded to make
me a sandwich without even asking if I was hungry.

“Good entrance, sweetie.”
My dad kissed my cheek and sat next to me at the breakfast bar. “Thanks for the
diversion,” he whispered.

“You really should lock
your doors and keep the riff raff out.”

“The door’s always open
for you.”

A plate replete with a
sandwich, pickle and barbecue potato chips was placed in front of me. Even
though I wasn’t that hungry, I knew better than to refuse so I nibbled on some
chips.

“What brings you all the
way out here, sweetie?” my dad asked, setting down his beloved sports section
and focusing his full attention on me.

Here it was, the moment
of truth. They weren’t particularly fond of Eric. After the divorce, their
homeless and heartbroken daughter moved back in. Like all the kings’ horses and
all the kings’ men, they tried to pick up the pieces and put me back together
again.

They saw me through some
very dark times and I learned that my mom had a miscarriage when I was still a
baby myself.

It was a month or so
after I moved back in with them. When I wasn’t working, I spent most of the
time in my bedroom staring at the walls. Crying sometimes, but trying not to
feel anything at all.

There was a quiet
knock on my bedroom door. I was lying in the dark on my twin bed, the one I’d
had since fifth grade, and had to sit up to turn on the light. “Come in,” I
said, blinking my eyes to adjust to the sudden intrusion of light.

The door swung open
and my mom cautiously stepped inside. “How are you doing today?” she asked with
her hands clasped in front of her like she was praying.

“I’m fine.” I lay back
down, rolling over on my side to look at her and hugging a pillow to my chest.

“Honey, I’m your
mother and know that’s not true.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I know
how it feels to lose a baby.”

And just like that she
opened up, revealing something about herself, about my parent’s marriage, never
known to me or my brother. She said I was still in diapers, just beginning the
potty training process, when she found out she was pregnant.

“Times were tight, but
we accepted it as God’s will and saw this pregnancy as a gift, not a burden. So
we focused on getting you out of diapers.” She smiled and patted my leg. “I was
twenty-two weeks along – well into the second trimester – when it happened.”
Her eyes shone with tears as she recalled the traumatic memory.

“Your Aunt Suzanna was
over with your cousin Raul and thank God she was there. She was watching you
and Raul while I made lunch. I remember like it was yesterday. I had the
refrigerator door open and was squatting to get lettuce out of the bottom
drawer when a massive cramp ripped through me. The pain was so immense that I
lost my balance and fell backwards, landing on my butt. Another cramp seized me
and I was drenched in sweat. When I looked down, I saw my yellow skirt was
soaked with blood. I stayed on the floor and called for your aunt. By the time
I got to the hospital, it was too late. I’d lost the baby.” She sniffed and a
tear spilled down her cheek. “I have never felt so empty.”

I absorbed her story
despite the shock. She knew the pain – my pain. “Mom, I’m so sorry, I didn’t
know.” Sitting up, I hugged her.

She squeezed me back
and said, “You’ve lost so much Elena and its okay to feel bad, but don’t shut
us out.”

Three months later
when I moved into my own apartment, I was a less twisted mess, but not
completely whole. I became used to seeing Eric at work. What hurt most was that
I knew we weren’t going home together at the end of the day and I functioned at
a detached level, purely out of self-preservation. Unfortunately, the detached
level was interpreted as hostile. It was easier to be detached and angry than
hurt and suffering
.

My parents stared at me,
waiting for a response. I don’t know how long I sat there without saying
anything, but it was longer than a normal delay.

“Elena, what is it?” my
mom asked.

“Okay…I wanted to tell
you this in person, so that’s why I’m here. You see Eric and me…um, well, we’ve
reconciled and we’re seeing each other again.”

I might as well have told
them I was moving to Russia. My dad crossed his arms over his chest and
frowned. His thick black eyebrows were drawn together as if on an invisible
thread. Leaning back in his stool, he silently regarded me. While my mom opened
and closed her mouth several times, she remained, miraculously, speechless.

“I know it’s a surprise,
but we really love each other and realize we both made mistakes. I’m not asking
your permission because I’m an adult and don’t have to, but I thought you’d
want to know.”

With this little speech over,
my appetite returned and I dove into the roast beef sandwich, giving them time
to digest the news.

“You have to understand
we’re concerned,” my mom said. “But you’re right, we can’t control who you
choose to date.” Her shoulders were squared and her hand movements reserved and
controlled, not the usual dramatic gesticulations.

“Just be careful,
sweetie. We don’t want to see you get hurt again,” my dad added, patting the
back of my hand before returning to the sports section.

My mom glared at him, her
lips pursed into a thin line. “Are you sure about this?” she asked me, her dark
eyes met mine.

“Yes, it’s what I want.
He’s all I ever wanted.”

“Okay, then.” She sighed
and stood up and began to clear the counter, taking my plate even though I
wasn’t finished.

That was the only sign of
my mom’s disappointment. Honestly I was surprised the news didn’t incite a
riot, but suspected their calm response was due to shock and that an hour or
two later, once back at my apartment, the phone would ring with panicked parents
on the other end. I decided to wait to tell them about the ghosts and the
research project. I didn’t want to push my luck.