Medium Chris Wilson is used to the dead, but the living Derek Brandt is her biggest challenge yet. As they hunt for his brother's killer, the wall between skeptic and believer begins to crumble. In a house full of restless spirits, their uneasy alliance might just become the one thing they can't live without.
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All things considered, it felt good to be held in Derek’s arms. As they moved up the hill, she did her best to ignore the throb in her leg and the icy fist of fear that gripped her chest and focus on that instead. After all, it might be the last good thing she ever got to experience.
“Chris!” She heard Ron before she saw her. She fumbled with the ghost box and switched it off before Ron got close enough for it to pick her up. The less this dirty cop knew about their invisible helpers, the better.
Ron reached them and fell into step beside Derek. “Oh, thank God. I thought—who cares what I thought? You’re alive!”
Chris merely nodded, then jerked her chin behind them. Ron followed the motion toward Detective Hanson and the gun he kept pointed at Derek’s back. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“He’s the one.” Jimmy told her from the other side of Derek. “The guy who shot me. Ron, we can’t let him hurt them.”
“No.” She looked meaningfully at Chris. “We won’t.” She glanced back up the hill, then turned to Jimmy. “I’ve got to go warn Joe. Remember everything I taught you. Watch out for them.”
“I will.”
Ron vanished. Chris blew out a deep sigh and rested her head on Derek’s shoulder, placing her lips next to his ear. His arms tightened around her, but he went still and remained silent as she whispered everything that just happened. When she finished, she raised her head and met his gaze. He nodded. Then he kissed her on the forehead and kept walking. The incline grew steeper as they got closer to the construction site. Derek’s breath grew labored. He grunted and shifted her in his arms. “You can put me down if you need to,” she said.
“You really think you can walk on that leg?”
The way it throbbed, that seemed unlikely. “Maybe with help.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you.” It was hard to make out his expression in the moonlight, but something in his voice touched her down deep, warming the places that had gone ice-cold with fear. “We’re going to get out of this,” he murmured.
“Quiet,” Hanson barked behind them.
“You be quiet,” Jimmy muttered, unheard by anyone else. “Big jerk.” Chris looked over and caught his eye, and he glanced back at Hanson. “You know, I’m a lot stronger now than I was. I could probably tackle him, knock the gun away.”
Chris glanced back at Hanson and considered it. He wasn’t some old man. He was a trained police officer, and he looked strong. She couldn’t run, and the likelihood that Derek would leave her there seemed minuscule at best. Remembering how well it had gone back at the house when Joe had tried such a thing with Jim Lansing, Chris decided it was a bad idea. “No,” she told Jimmy.
“No?” Hanson put a hand on Derek’s shoulder and turned the both of them to face him. “You got something to say?”
Chris looked down at the gun. He held it level with his waist, but with his height, it was aimed at Derek’s chest. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t very well tell him she’d been speaking to someone else.
“Leave her alone,” said Derek. “She’s tired and in pain.”
“Well, we’ll fix that soon enough.” He waved them on with the gun. “Walk.”
“I do have something to say, actually,” Chris said over Derek’s shoulder once they resumed the climb. “Why did you become a cop?”
The outline of those big shoulders shrugged in the darkness. “My dad was a cop.”
“Was he a dirty cop?”
“Yeah, actually.” He said it matter-of-factly, without a trace of shame. “He helped cover it up after I killed the kid. Later, after I got busted selling drugs, he shipped me off to the army and got my record expunged. After I got out, it was his idea for me to join the force. Seeing how well being a cop worked for him, all the… advantages it gave him and our family, I figured, why not? Anyway, it wasn’t like he gave me much choice.”
He fell silent. After a moment he asked, “Anything else you want to know?”
“Yeah. Were you born a psychopath or did your father make you that way?”
He didn’t answer. Then, just as Chris decided he’d taken the question as rhetorical, he said, “Let’s just say it was never a good idea to go against my father.”
“I have a question,” said Derek.
“Shoot.”
He stopped walking and turned to face Hanson. “Why did you kill Jimmy? Try as I might, I can’t imagine Jim Lansing actually hired you to do that.”
“Well, you’re right about that. The old man just wanted me to rough him up, leave him too messed up to play ball. But then here came this skinny little kid and aimed a gun at me.” Again, those shoulders shrugged. “I had to show you both who was in charge.”
“But why kill him? You’d gotten the gun away from me. Jimmy was too hurt to be a threat—”
“He wouldn’t stay down!” Hanson took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “He had to stay down. Getting caught wasn’t an option.”
While Hanson spoke, Chris watched Jimmy. His fists tightened and his face twisted into a mask of fury. He reminded her of an angry tiger, ready to pounce. And pounce he did. His fist flew out and connected with Hanson’s stomach, hard enough to make the big man double over and grunt in pain. But not hard enough to loosen his grip on the gun, or throw off his aim.
Holding his stomach, Hanson stayed bent over a moment, looking around as though trying to figure out what had hit him. He straightened back up and pointed the gun at Derek’s face. “Enough talking. Start walking.”
Derek’s breathing became heavier as they crested the hill. His grip on Chris started slipping. “I can make it from here,” she told him. He didn’t look convinced, but he set her down and she held onto him for support.
Everything was fine until she tried shifting her full weight to her wounded leg. Pain shot out in every direction from her gunshot wound so fast and so intensely that it nearly made her black out. She cried out and slumped against Derek as Ron materialized by her side.
“What are you doing? Don’t walk on it!”
Chris shot her sister a look to let her know that she’d figured that out, thanks. Just then, another voice called out to Derek. Another large man approached them. Chris could only make out his silhouette in the darkness. “You found her,” he said. “Is she okay?”
“She’s been shot,” Derek replied.
“Shot?” He looked behind him. Chris followed his gaze to her abductor, who sat on the ground at the base of the building foundation with his head in his hands. “Dad, you shot her?”
“I didn’t shoot anybody.” Lansing raised his head to take them all in. “You!” He pointed past them at Hanson as he climbed to his feet. “What are you doing here, Hanson?”
The newcomer, who Chris figured must be the much-discussed Steve, turned back toward them. He seemed to notice for the first time that Hanson held them all at gunpoint. “Whoa.” He held up his hands. “What’s going on here, Detective?”
“I’m cleaning up your old man’s mess, that’s what,” said Hanson.
The senior Lansing hurried over to them, waving a finger at Hanson. “You leave my son out of this! He has nothing to do with any of this! It’s just between you and me!”
“Not anymore,” said Hanson. “I gotta say, I’m not thrilled about having such a prominent citizen mixed up in this. The TV reporter was bad enough. But I can’t really see a way around it at this point.”
“Around what?” asked Steve.
“Murdering you,” said Derek. “Murdering all of us. Like he murdered Jimmy.”
“Jimmy?” Steve’s voice cracked on the name, and he looked back at the detective. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on. None of us really know anything. Let’s talk about this. I’m sure we can come to a reasonable solution.” As he spoke, he kept one hand stretched toward Hanson. The other hand, Chris noticed, crept slowly around his back.
Jimmy noticed, too. “Aw, Steve,” he muttered, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
They weren’t the only ones who saw. “Freeze!” Hanson shouted suddenly as he stepped back from the group and aimed the gun at Steve’s head. “Hands where I can see them.”
Steve sighed and held up both of his hands. “Turn around.”
Steve complied. When he did, Hanson stepped forward and yanked a pistol out of the former jock’s waistband and holstered it at his waist. Then he patted Steve down.
“Get your hands off of him!” Jim Lansing shouted.
“Shut up!” Hanson shouted back. “This is your own fault, old man. If you’d left everything up to me like I told you to, none of us would be here right now.” He shoved Steve toward his father, hard enough to make him stumble. Chris figured there weren’t too many people around who were strong enough to do that to the former running back.
Hanson stayed far enough back from the rest of them to give himself plenty of time to aim and shoot if anyone decided to try anything. He waved the gun toward the plank propped against the foundation. “Everybody up. All of you. Let’s go.”
Steve helped his father, who cussed a blue streak at Hanson as he climbed the plank. Steve followed him, then lay down on the edge of the concrete and motioned for Derek to bring Chris over.
She glanced around for the others as Derek scooped her back into his arms. Ron and Jimmy had both disappeared, and she’d seen no sign of Joe since returning to the building site.
As Derek hoisted her up to Steve’s waiting arms, she looked up and saw three faces peering over the ledge of a platform several stories above them. But she quickly forgot them as Steve hauled her up and her wounded leg banged into the concrete. She let out a yell and curled up on the foundation floor, biting down on the urge to whimper.
“I’m sorry,” Steve told her. “I was trying to be careful.”
“It’s fine,” she said through gritted teeth once she came back to her senses. Derek had just reached the top of the plank and hurried over to her.
“Are you okay?” She looked at him but said nothing. “Right,” he said. “I guess ‘okay’ is a relative term under the circumstances.”
They looked back at Hanson, who was making his way up the plank. For such a big guy, he was surprisingly graceful, having no trouble balancing as the board bowed and bounced under his considerable weight.
He nearly reached the top when something flew down from above and crashed on the ground next to the plank, just missing him. A stack of boards had somehow gotten knocked off one of the upper stories and landed in a pile of splinters. It startled Hanson enough to knock him off balance, but he quickly recovered and scrambled onto the foundation.
“Guess I should have worn my hard hat,” he said, looking back at the fallen boards. Chris closed her eyes and lamented her ghostly guardians’ terrible aim.
Derek whispered softly in her ear as he helped her to her feet. “Was that…”
She nodded. “For all the good it did,” she muttered.
Ron reappeared next to them. “Sorry,” she said, her expression pained. “The guys are getting tired. It’s throwing off their aim.”
“What about you?” Chris asked, her voice low.
“Don’t worry about me.” She glanced over at Hanson. “Don’t worry, period. We’ll figure this out.” She disappeared again. Chris couldn’t say she felt reassured.
Still keeping a safe distance, Hanson moved toward the interior of the building. He took his eyes off the group long enough to look around, apparently to get his bearings. “All right.” He waved everybody on. “This way.”
He directed them toward the center of the foundation, where a large sheet of plywood lay in the middle of the floor. “You.” He pointed the gun at Steve. “Move that over there.”
“You won’t get away with this, Hanson,” Jim Lansing said as his son did as he was told.
“I have so far. What, you think you’ll be the first bodies I’ve dumped here? You won’t have any identifying features left by the time anyone even thinks to look here—if anyone ever does.”
“Here” was a deep hole cut into the foundation floor, some kind of well or reservoir possibly meant to feed an indoor fountain. Chris thought of Scottie Tucker, who was almost certainly killed by this man, and wondered if his remains awaited them at the bottom.
Steve hauled the plywood away from the hole before rejoining his father. “Thanks,” Hanson told him cordially. “For what it’s worth, it pains me to do this to you. I’ve always been a big fan.”
“Gee, I’m touched.”
“Well,” Hanson went on, ignoring Steve’s sarcasm, “might as well get this over with. Everyone line up over here, on your knees.”
Derek made a scoffing noise. “You want to shoot us, do it over here where we’ll bleed on the concrete. We’re not going to help you hide the evidence.”
“Is that so?” Hanson strode over to them, his gaze locked on Derek’s. He seized Chris by her injured arm. She let out a scream mixed with pain, anger, and fear as he yanked her against him and pressed the gun to her temple. “How about now?”
Derek stared helplessly at them. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because getting caught is still not an option.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat, Derek glanced at the others. Then he made his way toward the opening. “Derek, no,” Chris said through gritted teeth. “He’ll kill us all anyway. Don’t make it easier for him!”
Derek halted, uncertain. Hanson’s breath huffed against her hair. “She’s right. I’ll kill you all anyway. But it doesn’t have to be quick and easy.”
As if to illustrate his point, he let go of Chris long enough to slam the butt of the pistol against her wounded thigh. Derek and the others shouted something at him, but Chris couldn’t make out what they said over her own scream. The dizzy, nauseous feeling that came over her confused things even more.
She came close to blacking out but held on long enough to see her sister flicker into view behind Derek. Ron’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Chris. Then her expression grew angry and determined before she disappeared again.
Hanson’s arm slipped back around Chris, holding her up as he dragged her toward the opening. Suddenly, Hanson shouted a startled-sounding stream of curse words. She turned her head to see all three ghosts with a tight grip on his gun hand, forcing it to point up in the air. He still held onto Chris, too tightly for her to get away.
Gritting her teeth and bracing herself, she shifted her weight onto her injured leg long enough to raise her other foot and bring it down as hard as she could on Hanson’s instep. It wasn’t very hard, but it was enough. His grip loosened enough for Chris to slip out of it and drop to her knees.
As soon as she was clear, a big blur flew past her and crashed into Hanson, tackling him to the concrete. Before Chris knew what was happening, Derek grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. While he checked her over, she looked back to see Steve Lansing on top of Hanson. He pounded Hanson’s gun hand into the ground, over and over, until at last, the gun clattered to the floor.
Wasting no time, Jimmy rushed over and kicked it out of Hanson’s reach. Steve kept up his assault, punching Hanson until he went limp. Breathing hard, Steve sat back and inspected Hanson. Apparently satisfied that the man would stay down, he climbed unsteadily to his feet.
Chris suddenly found herself crushed to Derek’s chest as his hands stroked her hair and he murmured thanks for her safety. When he let her up again, they were surrounded by the ghostly crew, concern written all over their faces. “I’m all right,” she told them. “It’s all right.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll be satisfied when I hear that from a doctor,” said Derek. “Stay with Steve. I’ll go bring the car up. Then we’ll get you to a hospital.” He glanced over at Steve. “You’ll stay with her?”
Though he looked ready to drop, Steve nodded as he made his way back to his father, who had gone white as a sheet when Steve tackled Hanson. His hands shook visibly as he reached for his son. Then his face contorted. He shouted, grabbing hold of Steve’s hands and spinning them both around just as the gunshot went off.
The bullet tore into Jim Lansing’s lower back. The old man slumped against his son, who managed to catch him even as he stared in shock at Hanson, still lying on the ground and holding Jim Lansing’s smoking gun.
“One down,” Hanson mumbled through torn and bloody lips. Steve had done a real number on his face. One eye had swollen shut and the other was reduced to a puffy slit. It was a wonder he could see at all, let alone well enough to aim. Still, he kept the gun pointed at Steve as he climbed unsteadily to his feet.
Steve didn’t even appear to notice. He called to his dad over and over as he sank to his knees and cradled the old man. Jimmy rushed to their side while the others hung back.
Joe sank to the ground, his form flickering in and out. “Joe?” Ron asked him.
“I don’t got much strength left.” He glanced up at Ron, then looked apologetically at Chris. “I don’t think I can be much more help.”
“I’m running out of steam, too, but we have to do something.”
“Derek went to get the car,” Chris whispered. “If you can find him, tell him what’s…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced back in the direction Derek had gone. He stood not far off, holding Hanson’s discarded pistol with both hands, aimed squarely at the cop.
Hanson spotted him at the same time she did. He laughed. “You think you’ll do any better with that thing this time around?”
“I’m not a kid anymore.” Derek’s voice was steady and commanding. “Put the gun down.”
Hanson’s face was hard to read in the moonlight, especially under all that bruising and swelling. But Chris thought she saw a flicker of desperation. Whatever she saw, it turned quickly into anger. Without another word, he raised his gun.
Chris covered her ears as the shot rang out. Even without walls or a ceiling, it still echoed. Hanson staggered backward and leaned precariously over the mouth of the reservoir. Still, he tried to lift his gun. Another shot fired, and another.
Derek advanced on Hanson as he emptied the magazine into him. Finally, Hanson went limp and fell backwards into the hole. A moment later, a muffled splash came from the depths of the tank.
Derek dropped the gun and sank to his knees, clearly overcome by what he’d done. Chris crawled slowly over to him. He met her with open arms, pulling her carefully into his lap. For a while, they just held each other. She thought she could feel Derek trembling, but it was hard to tell over her own shakiness.
“Chris, look out!” Ron shouted.
Chris whipped her head around in time to see Hanson climbing up out of the hole. “Oh, you’re freaking kidding me!”
Derek pulled back and peered down at her, confused. “What?”
She glanced at him and turned back to Hanson, still struggling to pull himself up. “You don’t see him?”
Derek shook his head. “I only see you.”
She took another look at Hanson and realized he didn’t have any injuries. She also realized she could see him plainly in the darkness as he glowed with the same faint spirit light as the others. His face twisted into a mask of fury as he clawed his way out of the tank.
Chris remembered Scottie Tucker, how angry he’d been, and how violent. Brand new spirit or not, Hanson looked angry enough to do a lot of damage if they stuck around. “We should get out of here,” she started to say, but only got half the sentence out before her voice trailed off.
Something was happening to Hanson, something she’d never seen before. Wisps of gray smoke swirled around him. He paid them no mind as he finished pulling himself out of the hole. As he got to his knees, the smoky wisps darkened and solidified into black tendrils. They reached for him and wrapped around him.
The look on his face transformed from fury to sheer terror as more and more of the blackness slithered over and around him, tugging him back down toward the hole. He screamed as he fought them.
Chris wanted to look away, to bury her face against Derek’s chest and cover her ears to muffle his cries, but she couldn’t. She could only stare in fascinated horror as the tendrils thickened into tentacles. Then they formed into inky black arms with hands that grasped and tore at Hanson, pulling him screaming back into the hole.
A flash of light erupted out of the opening, lasting only a second. Then it was gone, and Hanson’s screams went silent.
“Are you okay?” Derek asked her. She looked up and found him staring at her with concern. “I mean, I know you’re hurt, but you look terrified.” He glanced over at the hole. “What do you see?”
Chris closed her eyes and swallowed, then shook her head. “Nothing now. He’s gone. For good.”
“But what—”
“You don’t want to know,” she said, effectively putting an end to questions. She looked over to where Ron knelt beside Joe, both of them staring at the hole. They looked as horrified as she felt.
“Steve,” said Derek, moving her gently off his lap. The former footballer held his dad, apparently oblivious both to everything else that had happened and to the presence of Jimmy standing next to him with a hand on his shoulder. Derek got to his feet and then pulled her up. Together, they shuffled slowly over to the trio, soon met by Ron and a very tired-looking Joe.
Steve looked up as Derek said his name. “He’s alive,” he said, his voice as raw as the pain on his face. “He needs an ambulance.”
“It’s too late for that, son,” the old man managed between ragged gasps. “There’s no point.”
“Dad, stop. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Jim Lansing smiled and lifted a bloody hand to his son’s cheek. “Forgive me. I only wanted—” His words were cut off by a fit of coughing that forced more blood out of his wound and his mouth. It was a minute or more before he could speak again.
“I wanted you to get your shot, is all. I never meant—” Again he stopped, but not to cough. His gaze moved past Steve and focused on Jimmy, widening with surprise. “Jimmy, boy. I see you there.”
“Hey, Uncle Jim.”
“I never meant for them to hurt you, son. Not like… Like—” He started to cough again.
“It’s okay, Dad,” said Steve, holding him closer. “Just hold on.”
“I know,” Jimmy told him when the coughing subsided. “I know you only wanted to help Steve.”
“Do you forgive me?”
Jimmy nodded as Steve choked out a half- sobbed, “Yes! Yes, Dad. I forgive you.”
“Good.” Lansing seemed to relax then. His eyes closed, and he went slack in Steve’s arms.
“Dad?” Steve shook him. “Dad!”
Derek moved next to him and gripped his shoulder. “He’s gone, buddy. Let him go.”
“No,” Steve said weakly, then crushed his father’s body to his broad chest, heedless of the blood, and let out a mournful sob.
Jim Lansing sat up and got to his feet. Jimmy stood back to give him room. He looked down at his son, still sobbing over his prone body. He reached out to put a hand on his head but it went through it. He looked at it in surprise, then over at Jimmy, who offered him a weak smile. He nodded to him. Then he turned to Chris. “You see me, right?”
She nodded.
He looked ashamed then. “I’m sorry for getting you into this. For what it’s worth, I was only going to scare you.”
Chris wasn’t sure she believed that, although he seemed to. She nodded but didn’t say anything.
He looked back at Derek, who knelt with an arm around Steve. “Tell Derek I’m sorry. I really did love him like my own boy. I never wanted to hurt him.” He turned to Jimmy. “Or you.”
“I know.”
Lansing nodded, apparently satisfied. He looked around, then back at Chris. “What happens now?”
She thought of what had just happened to Hanson, and swallowed. “I’m not sure. I think maybe—”
Before she could finish, a brilliant golden light appeared behind him and Jimmy, so bright she had to raise a hand to shield her eyes.
Jim and his namesake both turned toward the light. They looked back at her uncertainly. “It’s okay,” she told them. “Go.”
Lansing looked back at the men crouched over his body. “You’ll tell them?”
Whether he meant to tell Derek what he’d said, or that he’d crossed over and found peace, she wasn’t certain. But she nodded. He turned and walked toward the light. It seemed to enfold him into itself, and then he was gone. The light remained.
Jimmy hung back, his gaze fixed on his brother. “Derek,” Chris called out to him. At his questioning glance she said, “It’s happening.”
He looked confused at first, then he did a double take in Jimmy’s direction and focused on the spot where he stood. “Jimmy?” he said as he stood up.
“Can you see him?” asked Chris.
He nodded and approached Jimmy slowly. “It’s like a faint outline, but yeah. I see him.”
“Can you hear me?” asked Jimmy, and Derek halted in his tracks. He blinked and nodded.
“Yeah. I hear you, big brother.” A smile broke out across his face. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jimmy went toward Derek. “I mean, goodbye, I guess.”
Derek swallowed, visibly struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Already?”
Jimmy looked back at the light, then faced Derek. “Yeah, little brother. I think it’s time. You’ll be alright now. Won’t you?”
Derek nodded, but he looked uncertain. Then he looked down at Chris and his expression became one of resolve. He nodded again, more firmly this time, and met his brother’s gaze. “Yeah.” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “I’ll be alright. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”
Jimmy smiled. He turned to Chris. “You’ll take care of this guy, right?”
She smiled up at him and nodded.
“Then, no. I won’t worry. Now hold still.” Derek obeyed as Jimmy moved closer and embraced him. Derek stiffened at the contact, then relaxed and raised his arms. At last, Jimmy released him.
“Say hi to Dad for me,” Derek told him.
“Say hi to Mom for me.”
Derek laughed. “That’ll be an interesting conversation.”
Jimmy smiled, then looked past Derek at Steve. “You’ll help him, right?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
With a nod, Jimmy turned toward Ron and Joe, who hung back on the other side of the reservoir, looking like they didn’t want to get too close to the light. Still, Chris couldn’t help but notice the look of longing on both of their faces—Ron’s as she gazed at the light, and Joe’s as he gazed up at Ron.
“Thank you,” Jimmy told them.
Ron smiled but didn’t appear to trust herself to say anything. Joe spoke for them both. “You’re welcome, son. Now get going before that thing closes and it was all for nothing. You’ve been stuck on this side long enough.”
Jimmy nodded. “Right.” He turned back to Derek. “Well, then. Goodbye, little brother.”
“Bye, Jimmy.” Derek’s voice was soft but steady. With one last look at everyone, Jimmy nodded, as if to himself. Then he turned and walked into the light. It enfolded him as it had done Lansing before closing up behind him and vanishing.
Derek blinked and looked around. “Is he gone?”
“Yeah. He’s gone.” She reached out for his hand, and he came closer and gave it to her.
“Well then.” His voice cracked a little. He wiped his cheeks and squeezed her hand. “Sit tight. I’ll go get that car.”
She watched him go before crawling over to Steve. He hung his head, his eyes closed as he stroked his father’s hair. Chris touched him lightly on the arm and he looked up. “He’s at peace,” she told him. “He went into the light.”
“You saw that?”
“Yes.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Remembering what had happened to Hanson, she shuddered. “It’s a lot better than the alternative.”
Steve seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled and patted his arm. He jerked his chin at her leg. It had started bleeding again—probably when Hanson had hit her there— but it was coming slowly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry he got you into this.”
“So was he.”
“He told you?” After she nodded, he asked, “What about Jimmy? Is he gone, too?”
“Yeah.”
Steve sighed. “I would have liked to talk to him. There’s so much I wanted to say…” He squeezed his eyes shut. Big droplets fell from his lashes and splashed on his father’s cheek. “Why did he do it?” He opened his eyes and looked down at his father. “What possessed you to send that monster after Jimmy?”
“He loved you,” said Chris.
He let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not an excuse.”
“No, but it’s a reason. Love makes some people do crazy things.” She looked back to where Joe and Ron had been, only to find they’d gone. With the danger over, they must have hurried to get home while Joe still had enough strength for the trip.
Chris still wondered about Ron’s choice to stay with Joe, especially after seeing how much she clearly had been drawn to the light. Was that a crazy choice? Judging by the look on Joe’s face, he seemed to think so.
Still, if Ron’s decision hurt anyone, it was only herself. That didn’t exactly compare to the lengths Jim Lansing had gone to for his son’s advancement. Or that Detective Hanson had gone to for his father’s approval.
“And I guess sometimes, it can bring out the worst in people,” she said.
Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes and bowed his head over his father. Chris sat beside him, letting him grieve in silence as they waited for Derek. For the first time in a long time, there weren’t any ghosts around and it was truly quiet.
And yet, Chris still felt haunted.
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Standalone Fiction
The Gift (a Restless Spirits Christmas short)
·
December 24, 2023
Being that it’s Christmas eve, it seems fitting that the first piece of fiction I publish here is a Christmas story. This standalone is a mini prequel to my novel Restless Spirits which gives a little backstory on a couple of characters. It’s a little incongruous, because that novel is a ghost story, and this is not — here these characters are very much…
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