Taken at Dusk (25 page)

Lifting her cheek from Lucas’s warm chest, she opened her eyes and tried to focus on Jane Doe.

Staring at the spirit’s face, Kylie recalled bits of the story she’d read about Berta Littlemon. She hadn’t killed just her own child, but that of a neighbor, too.

The spirit gazed back at Kylie without reservation. No worries. No shame. Had the woman forgotten about what happened at the cemetery, that Catherine had ratted her out—that Kylie now knew everything?

But even now, as Kylie looked deep into the spirit’s eyes, she didn’t see the soul of a killer. She saw the soul of a woman who was lost, forgotten, and needed her help.

What, if anything, did this mean? Kylie wondered.

Chapter Twenty-one

An hour later, Lucas left to go to a hiking class and Kylie continued her online research. She’d read most of the articles on the Web sites containing information about Berta Littlemon. She’d also done a quick search on Catherine O’Connell, the woman who’d ratted on Jane. Not just because Kylie intended to keep her promise to her—a deal was a deal—but because she wanted to know if the woman was honest.

Kylie’s quick search on the information Catherine had given her proved to be true. But did that also mean she was right about Jane Doe?

So far, she’d found one other site that had a picture of Berta Littlemon, but it too had been so fuzzy that Kylie couldn’t swear it was her Jane Doe. Sure, she had brown hair and it appeared to have been long at one time, and the facial features were similar, but … there was still hope.

A lot more hope when Kylie vaguely remembered something that Holiday had told her about spirits who were overall bad.

Almost as if thinking the woman’s name had worked magic, Kylie heard Holiday’s voice.

“Can I come in?”

Kylie saw Jonathon jerk from a dead sleep, then she bolted from her chair, ran across the living room, and threw her arms around Holiday.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Kylie said, releasing the camp leader only after a good long hug. She’d missed talking with Holiday, missed having her around. But Kylie probably missed Holiday’s hugs most of all. “I have so many things to ask you, to tell you.” She was about to dump her emotional trauma on the woman when Kylie suddenly remembered the reason Holiday had been away. Her aunt had died. And the death had rocked Holiday’s world to its core.

Maybe, Kylie realized, Holiday already had enough on her plate and didn’t need Kylie to add more.

Kylie paused a moment to catch her breath. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry about your aunt. Did you get things settled?”

“I’m fine.” Holiday gripped Kylie’s shoulders as if she understood Kylie’s thoughts. “And yes, I think I managed to get everything in order. The important question is if you’re okay. Are you?”

Jonathon sat up on the sofa, looking half-asleep. Holiday must not have seen him earlier because she jumped a little at the sound of him shifting.

“Oh, Jonathon. You startled me.” Holiday stared at the sleepy vampire.

“Do I need to stay here now that you’re here?” he asked.

Holiday looked at her watch. “I should be here for an hour, and Della will be back before that, so if you want to go, you can.” They watched Jonathon leave, then Holiday draped an arm around Kylie’s shoulder. “Now, tell me what’s going on with you.”

Kylie met her gaze. “Are you sure you can handle this?”

“Is it that bad?” Holiday’s brows creased with worry.

“No. Well, yeah, it is, but I mean, can you handle my problems right now with your own?” Kylie looked at Holiday with empathy. “I know what it feels like to lose someone. When my grandmother died, I could hardly breathe.”

Holiday smiled. “I’m fine. I’m still grieving a bit,” she added honestly. “But let’s just say I’m using the Kylie Galen method of dealing with my problems.”

“Which is what?” Kylie asked, puzzled.

Holiday grinned. “Concentrating on everyone else’s problems, so I don’t have time to think about mine.” She looked Kylie right in the eye. “Seriously, I’m fine. Now, tell me what you learned at the cemetery. And then we have a lot of things to discuss.”

Kylie started walking over to the kitchen table and then remembered the imminent question she’d wanted to ask Holiday. She swung back around.

“One thing first. Didn’t you tell me one time that really bad souls don’t hang around, that hell claims them pretty quickly?”

“In most cases, that’s right. But there are some that…” Worry pinched Holiday’s brows together. “Why?”

Kylie frowned, and just like that, all the frustration from earlier landed on her shoulders with a big thump. “Why does everything have to have exceptions? It would be so nice to ask a question and get a definite yes or no. It’s either black or white.” She dropped into a kitchen chair. “Life would be so much easier.”

“Easier, yes. But realistic … no. Few things are ever black or white.” Holiday tilted her head to one side and studied Kylie for a moment, then frowned. “Please tell me you haven’t gotten mixed up with a hell-bound spirit.”

*   *   *

Fifteen minutes later, Kylie sat beside Holiday as she read the different articles about Berta Littlemon on the computer screen.

“That’s it. I can’t read any more!” Holiday reached over and turned off the computer. “You shouldn’t even being reading this. You are not to deal with this spirit anymore.” Something about Holiday’s tone, so maternal, so un-negotiating, sent up warning flags all over the place.

“We don’t know it’s even her,” Kylie said. “I can’t just assume she—”

“Yes, you can! You said the other ghost told you that your Jane Doe rose from the grave of Berta Littlemon. That’s good enough for me.”

Kylie frowned. “Yeah, but maybe she’s lying. And you saw the pictures of Berta. They are fuzzy. I mean, yes, they sort of resemble my Jane Doe, but they’re not clear enough for me to be sure.”

“Okay, but why would the ghost lie?”

Kylie shrugged. “Because if she didn’t have information that sounded useful, she might have been afraid I wouldn’t have agreed to help her.”

“Wait—help who? The old man’s wife?”

Kylie realized she’d obviously left out that part of the story when she’d explained everything to Holiday. “No, the other ghost. Catherine O’Connell. I agreed to help her if she’d tell me what she knows about Jane Doe.”

“No,” Holiday said, and put her palms over her face.

“No, what?”

Holiday moved her hands. “You never make a deal with a spirit, Kylie. Never!”

“Why?” Kylie asked.

“Because it can be as bad as making a deal with the devil. What they want is sometimes impossible, and they can be relentless about making us pay up. If they think you haven’t delivered on your promise, things can get ugly.”

Kylie felt her throat tighten. She had looked forward to Holiday’s return so much, and now it seemed all Kylie was going to get were reprimands. “I didn’t know,” she muttered.

Holiday released a deep sigh. “I’m sorry,” she said, and dropped her hands on top of Kylie’s. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. This is my fault. All of it. I knew that your going to the cemetery was a bad idea. I should have vetoed it right off the bat.”

Kylie swallowed the tightness down her throat, which had seemed to lessen somewhat with Holiday’s touch. “It wasn’t a bad idea. And maybe I shouldn’t have made a deal with Catherine, but even that doesn’t seem so bad. I mean, what she wants is doable and for a good cause.”

Holiday shook her head, still looking too unrelenting. “It’s still not a good idea to make a deal with a spirit.”

“Yeah, but all she wants is for me to send some family history stuff to her kids. She’s Jewish and she lied to them and her own husband all her life because back then, being a Jew wasn’t so cool. Her parents died in the concentration camps and her grandparents managed to bring her to the U.S. She changed her name. And now, it feels like a lie.”

Holiday shook her head. “Kylie, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do this.”

“No.” Kylie stood up, and although she kept her voice low, even she heard the determination in her tone. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop any of this because you’re afraid I’m in over my head. Because you don’t think I can handle it. I’m helping Jane Doe, and I’m sorry, but I don’t believe she’s this murderer, and I’m also going to help Catherine O’Connell. It’s the right thing to do.”

Holiday closed her eyes in frustration. “Kylie, you don’t understand how dangerous this could be for you. There are things about dealing with evil spirits that … that will put you at risk. There is so much you still don’t know.”

Kylie shook her head. “Then explain it to me. But I’m telling you, Holiday, I don’t think she’s evil. How many times have you told me to follow my heart—that if I do that, I’ll figure out the right thing to do? Well, my heart is telling me to do this, and I’m doing it.”

When Holiday opened her mouth, presumably to argue again, Kylie added, “Besides, I wasn’t asking you for permission. I was asking for advice.”

Chapter Twenty-two

As soon as she’d let the words out of her mouth, Kylie wished she could get them back. Not because she hadn’t meant them. She did. She just regretted the way she’d said them.

Holiday sat there for a long moment, staring at Kylie as if she were thinking about what to say. Kylie returned her gaze with an equal amount of vigor. Regretting her tone didn’t mean she was going to back down on this. She couldn’t. Maybe it was because she emphathized with Jane Doe and her identity crisis, but it felt like more. Kylie knew she had to help the amnesiac ghost. And she would help her, with or without Holiday’s blessing.

“Good Lord, when did I become my mom and you become a younger version of myself?” Holiday asked, and smiled.

Kylie saw and heard the lessening of resolve in the camp leader’s voice and posture. Then the tension in Kylie’s shoulders dissolved and a wave of relief filled her chest. Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Holiday said. “Sit down and let’s figure out how we’re going to work this so I can live with it and you can, too.”

Kylie gave Holliday a quick hug of thanks and then settled in to talk. They discussed how Kylie was to go to the library to e-mail the family of Catherine O’Connell. Then Holiday went over and over and over how Kylie could shut out an unwanted ghost … or unwanted groups of ghosts. And then she made Kylie promise that if she did discover that Jane Doe was a child murderer, she would immediately pull back.

Kylie hesitated to give her word about the last one, but after searching her heart, she realized she didn’t believe Jane was a murderer, and so she promised.

When Kylie asked Holiday for an explanation of how evil spirits could hurt her, the camp leader hesitated. Kylie quickly added, “It’s not for Jane Doe, but in case I ever run into any.” When Holiday still didn’t start talking, Kylie added, “Keeping me ignorant is not a good way of protecting me. Don’t you think I need to know?”

Holiday released a deep breath and nodded. “It’s as much about protecting you as it is about … It’s about knowing you’re capable of handling this.”

“I’m capable,” Kylie said. “It can’t be much worse than…” She pointed to the computer, where the story of Berta Littlemon had been posted a short time ago.

Holiday nodded. “You’re right about that. But before I tell you, let me say again that most evil spirits don’t hang around. They are yanked away quickly, but it has and it will happen.”

“What do they do?” Kylie asked.

“You’ve had visions from the other ghosts, so you know how real they feel. Well, these evil spirits can make you relive some of their lives, and believe me, it can rip your heart out. Being that close to evil isn’t something you can forget easily.”

The way Holiday said it, Kylie knew the camp leader had suffered through it herself. The thought that Kylie, too, might have to deal with it one day sent a sharp shiver racing down her spine.

“They mess with your head, Kylie. They…” She inhaled again. “To put it bluntly, they mentally rape you, try to break your spirit, and if you show the least bit of weakness, they can possess you. It’s also believed, mostly with bad supernatural spirits, that they can take you with them to hell when they go. Legend says that they think if they can bring something good with them, they stand a chance of alleviating their own punishment.”

“So how do I avoid meeting one?” Kylie asked, certain only that she didn’t want to experience any of the things Holliday had just described.

“That’s the thing. They are just like other ghosts. Some you might just stumble across, shortly after their demise. Others, if their powers are strong enough, will seek you out for a purpose.”

Holiday must have sensed Kylie’s fear, because she dropped her hand on top of Kylie’s again. “If you ever find yourself in their presence, you have to remain strong.”

“How?” Kylie asked, feeling her fear ebb with Holiday’s calming touch.

“It’s the same as shutting out the ghosts. Mentally, you need to put yourself in a different place, a place where you feel love and good things, where you experience life at its best. And hold tight to your faith, because they will try to convince you that all things good are frivolous, that they don’t matter.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re back!” Miranda screamed at the doorway, and came rushing inside the cabin. The moment her vibrant spirit entered the room, it chased away the dismal cloud of emotion hovering over Kylie.

Miranda embraced Holiday, nearly turning over the chair in the process. “I’m so glad you’re back. We need you here. I mean … Burnett’s okay, but … he’s not you.”

Holiday arched a brow. “I hear he wasn’t even himself for a while there.”

Miranda frowned. “He told you about the whole kangaroo thing, didn’t he.”

“Yeah,” Holiday said, and her brows tightened. “And I must say, I’m very disappointed with you, Miranda.” She reached out and gripped Miranda’s hand. “The next time you turn him into anything, do it when I’m here to enjoy it.”

They all started laughing.

*   *   *

It was thirty minutes before Kylie and Holiday were able to pull away from Miranda to continue their private conversation. Especially when Miranda told Holiday about her sort of/kind of feeling that they had another mystical stalker in the camp. Kylie wondered if the stalker wasn’t her little blue jay friend.