Authors: Cassandra Gannon
She
made a face. “Except I’m still half-convinced you’re guilty.”
Jamie
shook his head. “You wouldn’t have been sent to me if you weren’t the one I
was waiting for. I can’t rest until I’ve proven my innocence. Perhaps it’s
why I’m still here.”
“Maybe
you’re just not trying hard enough to leave.” She retorted. “All this
happened over two hundred years ago. Maybe you need to just… let it go.”
“
I
can’t let it go
!” He roared. “I was
hanged
, woman! They put a
rope around my neck and they
fucking hanged me
on the very street you
walk along every day. They left my body strung up for three days, with a sign
around my neck calling me a murderer! That’s not something I can
let go
of!”
“You’re
not even trying to…”
He
cut her off before she could offer another denial. “You have to help me,
Grace.” He scraped a hand through his hair, pacing up and down the length of
her small parlor. “I need to know who’s responsible for killing me. Because
whoever murdered those girls?
He
was the one who should’ve died at the
hands of that mob. Not me.
Him
. He killed me too and I want to know
the bastard’s name.”
“That’s
impossible…” The phone rang, interrupting her protest.
Jamie
shot it an annoyed look. Telephones were not a part of modernity that he
enjoyed. They were forever making shrill infernal sounds and, more
importantly, it was damn hard to eavesdrop on only one side of a conversation.
That seriously impacted his social life. With no one to talk to, Jamie spent most
of his time listening to
other
people talk. That was much harder to do
when one of the parties was only there via a plastic contraption. It was like
only seeing half of a movie. Phones, texting, email… They were all a pain in
the ass.
He
arched a brow when Grace sat there and let the phone ring, again and again. Odd.
In his experience the living always jumped at the chance to play with their
technology. “Not going to get that?” He prompted.
“Nope.”
Grace drank some more wine.
“Why
not?”
“Because
I already know who it is and my night’s been lousy enough without anyone
reading my mind.”
June
21, 1789- Eugenia and I had tea with Clara Vance today, as I was too bored to
think of a reason to postpone it. Her company only added to my ennui. All she
talked off was witches, for God’s sake! Like the Puritans of old! Her new
fixation seems to be those fortunetellers, the Riveras. Her father, the
Reverend Vance, warned her they’re devil spawn or some such nonsense. So she’s
taken to crossing herself when she passes by their shop and now my dreary
sister Eugenia vows that she will, too.
I
cannot imagine a more tedious Sunday afternoon!
From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
“Grace?”
The woman’s voice was demanding and full of authority. “It’s your Auntie Serenity.
I
know
you’re there, so you might as well pick up the phone. Hiding
won’t do any good. I’m a
psychic
, in case you’ve forgotten. I know
everything.
”
Grace
sank deeper to her collection of pillows, at least half of which were decorated
with flowers or mermaids. All of her attention stayed fixed on her carton of vanilla
ice cream. “I’m not hearing her say ‘I told you so,’ right now. No way.”
“I
told you so about Robert.” Serenity said, as if on cue.
Grace
sighed, her gaze rising up to the ceiling in a silent bid for patience.
Jamie
arched a brow. “Your aunt is a psychic?”
“She’s
a tarot card reader, if you want to get technical. My family owns a palm
reading and herb shop, here in town. The Crystal Ball.” Resigned brown eyes
met his. “I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s been here since the Revolution,
much to Harrisonburg’s dismay.”
Oh,
he’d heard of it alright. “Donea be telling me, you’re part of
those
Riveras?” This uptight little creature came from the most eccentric band of
fortunetellers this side of Richmond? Well, that explained the magic he sensed
in Grace and why she was trying so hard to suppress it. Death hadn’t done away
with Jamie’s sense of humor, so he started laughing. “Bit of the odd-duck your
family, are ya, love?”
Just
like he’d been. It was a pleasant surprise to have something in common with
this fay girl, even if it was just the fact they both had trouble fitting in
with their relatives.
She
didn’t appreciate his smile. “I’m glad my dysfunctional life is funny to you.”
“Oh
so am I.” He assured her happily. “Would have been a disaster if the only
person who could see me was dull.”
“Gracie?”
Aunt Serenity continued. “There’s no sense in sulking. I saw it all happen
when I did my nightly reading on you. You’re well rid of that asshole Robert.
That’s all I’m saying. Your cousin had a bad feeling and I
always
trust
Charity’s feelings, ever since she almost won the lotto that time in Florida.”
“She
got two numbers.” Grace held up her fingers, even though her aunt couldn’t
very well see them over an answering machine. “Two!”
“I
predicted this mess with Robert coming a mile away.” Serenity boasted. “It
was inevitable. If you’d listened to me, you would have been spared yourself six
months of tedium. Plus, the man looks as if he kisses like a sucker-fish.”
Jamie
chortled in delight, both at the woman’s obvious hatred of the wanker Robert
and at her delightful turn of phrase.
“Oh
shut up.” Grace snapped at him.
“I’m
sure you sensed Robert was an asshole, too, but you never listen to the
foolproof Rivera instincts God gave you.” Serenity continued with a sigh.
“You’re so determined to prove you’re ‘normal.’” She made the word sound like
it was a synonym for “scurvy.” “Such a waste of talent. Grandpa Truth always
said you’d inherited a huge share of the Riveras’ gifts and
this
is what
you do with them. It breaks my heart.”
“Grace,
Serenity, Charity, and
Truth?
”
“Shut
up
.” Grace bit off, slanting Jamie a glower. “Everyone in my family
has a virtue name. It’s tradition.”
“It’s
bloody brilliant, that’s what t’is.”
“Well,
fine.” Serenity continued blithely. “I’ll give you a day or so to lick your
wounds. But I expect you over here on Saturday, so you can help get the shop
ready for the 4
th
of July sale. We can’t let Madam Topanga’s magic
shop get the jump on us, like they did on Arbor Day. We need something
big
this time.” She sighed. “If only someone had written down the family recipe
for troll powder, way back when.
That
would bring in the customers.”
“It’s
no wonder the whole family’s broke.” Grace told the wine bottle in a sad tone.
“Anyway,
the point is, there’s no sense in you wallowing in ice cream and cheap wine.” Serenity
counseled. “Which I don’t even
need
my Tarot deck to tell me you’re
doing.”
Grace
lifted her Ben and Jerry’s carton towards the phone in silent toast.
Serenity’s
tone turned singsong-y. “And if it makes you feel any better, the cards tell
me that you won’t be alone for long. I see a tall, handsome man entering your
life soon. And --trust me-- you’re going to like this one. He’s quite a
charmer. That’s all I’m saying.”
Grace
snorted, slanting a meaningful look in Jamie’s direction. “
Snake
charmer, maybe.”
“I
can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s just
perfect
for you! I can
already tell.” She paused and then made an inpatient sound. “Oh! I wasn’t
going to say anything else, but I just can’t help it. You know I’m terrible at
secrets.” Serenity gave a squeal of happiness. “I really think he’s going to
be your
Partner.
Congratulations! Try to act surprised when you meet
him.”
Grace
froze, the spoon suspended halfway to her lips.
Jamie
looked between the phone and Grace, trying to figure out what the hell that
meant. The woman looked like she’s seen more than just a ghost. “Partner in
what?”
“Nothing.”
She said far too quickly. “It has nothing to do with you. Nothing at all.”
His
eyebrows slammed together, unaccountably pissed that she sounded so desperate
to deny him. “Of course it’s ta do with me! What other tall and handsome man
has entered your life, recently?”
She
snorted as if that indisputable logic was sheer craziness. “Well, I just
started watching the
Star Wars
movies, so it’s probably Han Solo.”
Jamie
scoffed at that. “You’re being ridiculous. It’s clearly
me
.” He
frowned. “…And you’ve only
just
seen the
Star Wars
movies? For
God’s sake, I’m
dead
and I’ve seen them all twice.”
“Plus
he wears a hat!” Serenity chirped. “I’ve always had a weakness for men in
hats. It’s so
mysterious
, don’t you think?”
“I
wear a hat.” Jamie reminded her, warming to this topic.
“It’s
not you! God, can’t you disappear or something? Leave me in peace.”
He
could make it so he was invisible to her, but he wasn’t about to do such a
pointless thing. Possession roared through him, louder than it had ever been.
Jamie had had to fight for everything he ever wanted and this was no
different. Grace was
his
and he wouldn’t share her.
He
was her
partner. The thought fixed in his mind and wouldn’t let go. His twinkle of
knowing was a damn searchlight when it came this girl.
He
pointed to his tricorne. “Han Solo doesna wear a hat.”
“Fine.
Indiana Jones, then.
He
disregarded that foolishness. “I’m also smashingly mysterious. You see how it
can be no one but me?”
Grace
rolled her eyes. “Please. You talk too much to be mysterious.”
“You
could use a charming mystery man in your life.” Serenity decided. “They’re
the very best cure for all of life’s problems. And they usually look
spectacular
naked. That’s all I’m saying.”
“That’s
never
all you’re saying.” Grace muttered.
Serenity
gave a thrilling laugh, as if she’d somehow heard that remark. “Ta for now,
darling.”
Jamie
smiled as she hung up the phone. “And just so you know… I
do
look
spectacular naked.” He assured Grace without a drop of modesty.
“For
the last time, she’s
not
talking about you!”
“Of
course she is. Who else could she be meaning?”
“Someone
who’s not dead, maybe?”
Jamie
winced a bit, his certainty fading under the unrelenting truth of her words.
“Well, that’s hardly my fault.” He muttered, refusing to be hurt.
The
logical part of him knew it was pointless to care about this “partner”
absurdity. Whatever it meant to Grace, it was the province of the living and
he was no longer one of them. She was the one he’d been waiting for. Alive or
dead, Jamie would have known that with all the magic inside of him. He
recognized her with a certainty that defied explanation.
…But
what good did that do for
Grace?
He was still a ghost. He needed her,
but it was no true partnership. It couldn’t be.
She
didn’t
need him.
In
his whole life and afterlife, Jamie wasn’t needed by anyone. Growing up, he’d
heard that enough times that it had imbedded itself into his psyche. In fact,
“No one fucking needs you!” had been the last thing his father shouted after
him when Jamie left home forever. It was possibly the only time the old man
was completely right. In the two hundred and fifty years since that day,
nothing had proven him wrong, that was for damn sure. Nobody had
ever
needed
him. No one ever would. Certainly not this fay creature of ice cream and
mermaid pillows and clean, shiny hair.
Grace
stared up at Jamie for a beat like she could see into his thoughts. “I’m
sorry.” She said softly. “I love my aunt, but she drives me nuts sometimes.
It’s not your fault that I got upset. It’s just been a
really
bad day,
okay? Let’s just get back to the whole ‘clearing your name’ thing.”
If
she was willing to discuss finding the truth behind the murders, Jamie didn’t
have much of a choice but to follow her lead. No doubt she knew that and it
was exactly why she was suddenly so eager to tackle the subject. The whole
situation still pissed him off, though.
“You
just told me clearing my name is impossible.” He reminded her sarcastically. “Where
else can the conversation go?”
“It
is
impossible. Whoever killed those girls, the evidence against him is
probably long gone. You can trust me on this. I used to be a crime scene
investigator.”
Jamie
stopped brooding and gaped at her. “Like on TV?” Sudden joy filled him. With
Grace, there was always some new reason for hope. He was beginning to see
that. She was forever opening doorways that he’d thought were sealed tight. He
could never stay irritated with this small, fay miracle sent to save him. “You
know about fingerprints and such?”
“Hang
on, ghosts watch TV?”
“What
else would I be doing with eternity? I can’t exactly hold a book.” He
demonstrated his insubstantial-ness by passing his hand back and forth through
a particularly hideous lamp with a flamingo painted on it. Bleeding Christ, it
was like the girl made it her mission to rescue all the hopeless furnishings in
Virginia and give them a home. “Movies and television have made my unlife
bearable.”
Once
again, she seemed absurdly fascinated with the wrong thing. “What kind of
shows do ghosts like? I mean aside from multiple viewings of
Star Wars
.”
“I
donea know any other ghosts, so I can’t be sure. Personally, I like that show
with the magical high school best. The one with the bonnie little cheerleader,
who hunts werewolves and loves the Frankenstein boy. They get the facts of
ghosts all wrong, but it’s quite a nice production.”
“
Haunted
High
?” Her eyebrows soared. “The teen soap opera?”
“That’s
the one.” Jamie nodded. “But, I watch other shows, too. I can’t change the
channel, so I have to watch whatever the living do. And about a dozen shows on
television are about murders that get solved in an hour, thanks to the
computers.
More
than a dozen. Sometimes I think that’s the only plot
your writers can think of.” And it was exactly what he needed. Someone to use
the magic of science to clear his name. “You solve murders professionally?”
“I
used
to be a small part of solving murders, but I don’t anymore. I told
you, I burned out.”
So
she’d said, except Jamie had no idea what that meant. “Burned out?”
“Yeah,
burned out. As in, I used to investigate blood spatter and collect DNA
evidence, but now I give ghost tours for minimum wage.”
“But
you have the skills to…”
She
shook her head, cutting him off. “I can’t go back to what I was doing. I’ll
have another breakdown and I can’t have another breakdown. Normal people don’t
have breakdowns.”