Mystically Bound (Frostbite, Book Three) (11 page)

“My husband gave it to me before he died in a
mining accident. I lost it a year or so after his death. I’d
searched and searched for years for it, but couldn’t ever find it.”
She glanced down to her dark brown trailing skirt and swirled her
hips, making it flutter. “I didn’t die horribly, but had pneumonia
a month after my thirtieth birthday and didn’t recover. I know it’s
why I’m still here. I need that necklace with me.”

This was an absolute first request. Usually,
my help was more people related, such as apologizing or settling
some kind of emotional trauma. But I could actually see how this
could make someone stuck. If she had mourned the loss of the
necklace while alive, that desire would never let her rest. “You’ve
been searching ever since you died?”

She nodded, smiling brightly. “I finally
found it.”

I glanced at the bedroom door and then looked
at the bed, wishing I could crawl into it. But I also doubted this
ghost or any of the others would leave me alone. The sooner I got
one ghost off my to-do-list, the better. Besides, I wasn’t doing
anything right now, but planning to sleep. Gretchen would be a few
minutes anyway, so I sighed. “How close is this graveyard?”

The house was incredibly quiet. I assumed because
smart people were asleep. Gripping the railing on the staircase
with one hand, I held my flashlight tight with the other and
without looking back at Victoria behind me, I asked, “Where is the
necklace?”

“Here, I’ll show you.”

She had clearly sped up because she flew
right through my body, nearly causing me to tumble down the stairs.
My blood turned to ice and the bite of frost had me shivering. I
wrapped my arms around the railing tight so I didn’t summersault
down the staircase and I scowled at her back. “Now that,” I
sneered, “was very rude.”

She didn’t acknowledge me and finished her
descent down the staircase, then vanished through the front door. I
cursed and hurried after her.

In the foyer, I put on my running shoes, and
then I opened the front door and shut it behind me quietly, not to
disturb anyone.

As I stepped out into the night, the warm air
brushed against my skin and fluttered my hair around my face. I
turned on my flashlight, scanned the area in front of me and I
caught sight of Victoria, who headed toward the right side of the
house. The moon above provided a lot of light, which made me happy,
but my flashlight helped, too.

I jogged to catch up to Victoria as she moved
quickly through the yard. I passed by a row of large trees and my
shoes squished into the grass below. “Will you wait?” I called.

I pushed forward to a run and saw her dodge
right behind a huge oak tree. I quickly followed, and once at the
tree, I turned and immediately skidded to a halt, since I nearly
ran straight through her. I grasped the tree and groaned as a
sliver pushed itself into the palm of my hand.

I parted my lips to lash out at her when she
squatted, then turned up to me with teary eyes. “It’s here.
Look.”

Biting back my curse words, I ignored the
sting in my palm and glanced down. Beneath the beam of my
flashlight, I only saw grass. I moved closer, lowered the
flashlight toward the grass and knelt beside her. “Where?”

She pointed to a spot right in front of the
tree trunk and whispered, “Right under the grass there.”

With my free hand, I moved the grass around
and something caught the light from my flashlight. “Oh, wait.”
Pushing my fingers down into the grass, something cool brushed
across the tip of my finger. Then I grasped the cool metal and
lifted out a coin shaped item. I nearly said she was wrong and
maybe I’d found a quarter, but as I brought it closer to the light
I noticed it wasn’t a coin, but a round diamond pendant with a long
silver chain. “Is this it?”

She sighed, staring at the necklace with
tears rushing down her cheeks. “Yes, that’s it. I saw it catch the
light off the moon one night.”

I pushed off the grass and stood, as Victoria
joined me. “Okay, great. Where to now?”

Tears continued to trail down over her cheeks
when she turned and pointed into the dark night. “This way.” She
strode through the yard, and I kept close to her since I couldn’t
see all that much in this area. Clouds had swept over the moon and
made the night pitch black. The only light came from my flashlight,
and it wasn’t nearly enough.

She continued to stride through the large
yard, weaving her way in between the tall, thick trees until we
came to the edge of the forest hugging the grounds. Looking back to
me, she smiled. “Just over here.”

I looked at the forest, then around me at the
pitch-black night, and finally focused back on her, totally
confirmed I wanted no part in this. “Oh hell, no. I’m not walking
into that forest.”

“It’s not in the forest,” she said softly,
pointing to the right. “The cemetery is this way.”

Not happy about any of it, I hesitantly
followed her as she kept to her word and just to the side of the
thick brush was a pathway. Only a few steps along the stone
walkway, the cemetery appeared.

The small graveyard had a wrought iron fence
and an incredibly spooky gate with vines overtop of the metal. “How
old is this place?”

She strode forward and walked right through
the gate. “Old.”

I opened the gate and it creaked, totally
freaking me out. The trees around me rustled with the wind and I
groaned. Why couldn’t Victoria have come to me in the daylight when
things weren’t so damn scary? Well, maybe because I wouldn’t have
helped her, too busy with my own problems.

I stuffed back my worries and slight fear as
the clouds moved away from the moon, which caused a little more
light in the cemetery. Using my flashlight, I scanned the area.
Only ten or so headstones were present and by the looks of them,
they were as old as the house itself. Ready to get out of this
place, I turned to Victoria. “Okay, which one is yours?”

She walked forward and stopped at one of the
smaller tombstones. “Over here.”

As I settled in next to her, I aimed my
flashlight at the headstone.

Victoria Glasgow Hackett

Beloved wife and daughter

1901-1930

At Victoria’s sharp inhale, I turned to her
and she now stood in front of the tombstone next to hers, which
clearly belonged to her husband since it read,
Thomas
Hackett
, who died in his early thirties. The tears and sadness
in her face indicated enough that’s who lay beneath the ground.

“I finally have it, Thomas. I found it. I can
come to you.” She lowered to her knees and placed her hands on the
grass

My throat tightened, watching her reach out
to her husband. This was the sad stuff; her pain was palatable. Not
wanting to prolong her misery, I whispered, “How do you want me to
do this?”

She continued to stare down at the grass
below. “Push it into the grass in my grave, so that it’s always
with me.”

Tears welled in my eyes for her and I exhaled
as I knelt just off to the side of her grave. I pushed the pendant
of the necklace as far into the ground as it would go with using my
fingers alone.

After I tucked the chain into the hole with
the pendant, a light shimmed next to me. As I turned, Victoria laid
down on the ground above her husband’s grave. She never looked at
me, nor did she say a word. She shut her eyes, her cheeks wet with
her tears, as she whispered words I couldn’t hear.

I blinked away a tear and when my eyes
cleared, she was gone. I exhaled, sitting back on my legs. Usually
ghosts thanked me for my help and it was slightly odd not to have
that talk before one crossed over. But it made the moment a little
more special because it only proved how much Victoria had waited to
be with her husband. How much it meant for her to go and join him.
In the moment of her crossing, she didn’t think of me, but only of
him.

I was okay with that.

In fact, I totally understood. Most times
now, I only thought of Kipp. I raised my flashlight, glanced to my
right, and spotted the largest headstone in the cemetery.

William Glasgow

Husband and father

1852-1900

Victoria’s father, I assumed, because her
maiden name had been Glasgow. As I stared at his name, a tingle
registered in the back of my mind and I could only gawk at the
headstone. The name hadn’t registered with Victoria, but now it did
and I could’ve smacked myself; Glasgow was Nettie’s last name.

I scanned the cemetery, realizing I stood in
the Glasgow family plot. As it appeared, by all the names on the
headstones, all of Nettie’s family had been buried there. With my
heart slowly pounding, I hurried through the few rows of tombstones
and read each one as I passed until I finally reached the last
gravestone. When my flashlight hit the name, my breath caught in my
throat.

Nettie Glasgow

A daughter forever missed.

1895 –

I leaned in and looked at the bottom for the
date she died, but it appeared to have been erased through time.
Chunks of the stone were missing and I couldn’t read it, but in
that moment, a thought struck me. “Nettie,” I called.

Silence greeted me.

Annoying me further, I had to wonder if I had
just been speaking to Nettie’s sister or at least a close relative.
I could’ve had the chance to ask her something about Nettie and I
had let it slip through my fingers. But that only confirmed my
suspicion that Nettie could still be around. If her sister or maybe
cousin had been there, so could Nettie. “Nettie,” I called
again.

Only darkness surrounded me.

A rustle in the trees snapped me out of my
thoughts and an owl hooted in the distance, reminding me I stood in
a cemetery
alone
. Using my flashlight, I took a quick look
around me, but I only met darkness. With all that spooky business,
I booked it out of the cemetery at full speed.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t walk.

I ran.

Victoria hadn’t been wrong—the cemetery
hadn’t been far away and running at full speed had me back at the
front door lickety-split. I whisked the door open and hurried in. I
kicked off my shoes, turned off my flashlight, and after I shut the
door, I leaned over, hands on knees, and caught my breath.

When I wasn’t panting any longer, I
straightened up and headed for the staircase. Before I reached the
first step, Amelia strode out of the kitchen carrying a tray.

“Oh.” She froze, glanced at the front door,
then started toward me again. “I was on my way to see you.” When
she settled in front of me, her eyes brightened. “Did you go out
and see my father?”

“No, I’m sorry,” I exhaled, continuing to
settle the race of my heart. “Another ghost needed a quick
favor.”

“Another ghost?” Her eyes widened before she
shed the shock. “Guess it shouldn’t be so surprising someone else
found you. Dane has told me quite a few ghosts reside at the
house.”

I snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, here.” She offered me the tray.
“Gretchen told us you made a connection with Kipp. Wayde has said
you can have the night to rest before you talk again. And I made
you and Gretchen some cucumber sandwiches, since I thought you
might be hungry.”

I accepted the small tray as the sweet smell
from the dill weed made my stomach rumble. Amelia wasn’t hard to
like. I hated that about her. Why couldn’t Dane have married a
nasty wench? Making friends with his wife was not on the top of my
priority list. “Thank you.”

Her blue eyes crinkled with her wide smile.
“You’re quite welcome.” Without another word, and the kind smile
still planted on her face, she turned and headed toward the
kitchen, but I could have sworn she said something.

I frowned. “What was that?”

She glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows
furrowed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You weren’t just whispering?”

She laughed. “No.”

“Lord, I’m tired.” Honestly, now I was
hearing things. I needed to go to bed, immediately. “Okay, thanks
again for the sandwiches.”

“Of course.” She gave her warm smile. “Sleep
well.”

I watched her fade into the kitchen and shook
my head. Now I sounded like a total nut. Wonderful.

On my way up the staircase, the sandwiches
smelled too good to deny. I gripped the tray in one hand and took a
bite of a sandwich. The garlic mayo exploded in my mouth and a warm
sensation sped through my body—excitement, no doubt, that I finally
gave my body fuel.

I finished off one of the little sandwiches
as I approached the bedroom door. There, I whisked the door open
and discovered Gretchen, sitting on the corner of the bed in her
very country-looking plaid pajamas, staring down at a white piece
of paper. “Guess what?” I shut the door behind me. “I saw Nettie’s
grave in an old cemetery near the forest.”

As I stepped farther into the room, she still
hadn’t looked at me or away from the note. “What’s that?” At her
non-response, I raised my voice. “Gretchen.”

She startled at my voice and snapped her head
up. “Pardon?”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her. “Whatcha
reading?” I approached her, yet stopped halfway. I hadn’t notice
before, but her face was sheet white. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated and worry raged in the depths
of her eyes. “When I came back into the room, I found this note on
the bed.” Her hand trembled, sending the paper to shake.
“Here.”

I hesitantly approached her, keeping my gaze
on her face and the concern there. I placed the tray of sandwiches
next to her on the bed, and then I accepted the note and lowered my
head to paper.

You’re not safe. Get out!