Chapter Three #2
My heart sinks. I had thought he’d reached out because he wanted to.
But he only needed me because this Rosing man insisted on him bringing a psychic.
Why does this upset me so much? This was always just a job, and that’s all I want it to be.
Isn’t it? My breath hitches, and Callum hears it and sits forward.
‘Obviously, if I need a psychic, you’re the first person I’m going to think of.’
‘Obviously, because I’m the only one you know who can actually see ghosts. You already told me that. Were you even going to let me know I was just one half of a package deal?’
‘You’re not just part of the deal, but why would it matter if you were?’
‘Because it matters.’
‘Holly, I didn’t think I’d be telling you anything, I’m shocked you’re even here.
I never thought you’d answer my message.
’ He rubs his fingers across his forehead, a dark frown hardening his face.
‘You ghosted me for two years. Disappeared without a word. Ignored all my calls. Radio silence.’ He shakes his head and looks down into his empty cup, his knee bouncing so violently it rocks the table.
My pulse pounds in my ears. Of course it was going to come up.
Of course there’d be a confrontation. How could I be so stupid?
I knew this was a bad idea. I knew I should have deleted his message.
He’s blaming me for his behaviour. Like I did something wrong, when he was the reason for…
everything. But I don’t want to go there.
I don’t care how many times I’ve rehearsed what I want to say, it’s not worth it.
I suddenly wish I was at home, alone, where it’s safe.
Callum reaches across the table and touches my hand. ‘Hey.’ His voice is gentle again. ‘I didn’t mean to say any of that… I’m sorry.’
I pull my hand away and fuss with my napkin, folding it into a tiny square. ‘Um… I need to think this over some more.’
He sits back again, his arms across his chest. ‘Which part? The job or me?’
‘You made it seem like you actually wanted to work with me again. But it turns out you just can’t do this job without me.’
He nods, slow and deliberate. ‘Is that right? So, you don’t think I can conduct an investigation on my own? They contacted me because they wanted me . You were just backup.’
My anger flares, quickly replacing the hurt. ‘Oh please. You’ve got book smarts, some useless gadgets, and a YouTube channel, sure but—’ I stop, sucking back a gasp at the bitter tirade that just tumbled from my lips.
‘Fuck.’ He says the word through a mirthless laugh. ‘Tell me what you really think, Holly. Just because I don’t explode ghosts with my mind doesn’t mean I’m not a good investigator.’
‘I don’t explode them with my mind, I use an incantation. And they don’t explode, they… vanish.’
‘Mm-hmm. Still, let me get this straight. What you’re saying is you’re better than me, and I’m basically useless without your…
’ He does air quotes. ‘Special gift?’ I flinch.
‘This might come as a complete shock to you, Holly,’ he goes on, ‘but I know what I’m doing.
I have an excellent reputation. A hell of a lot of people subscribe to my show and ask for my help. ’
‘I wasn’t questioning that. I didn’t say you didn’t have any abilities.’
‘Ah, yeah, you did.’
‘Well, I didn’t mean to. I know you’re good at what you do. It’s just…’ I shake my head. ‘I just think… I can’t.’
He nods. ‘Got it. You don’t have to say anything else.’ His eyes, so soft earlier, are now hard chips of emerald.
My hands tremble. ‘I should go.’ I grab my backpack from under the table.
‘Stay there.’ He runs a hand through his hair.
‘It’s okay, Holly. To be honest, I’m kind of surprised we got as far as we did.
I guess I was hoping… I don’t know what I was hoping.
’ His chair slides back with a scrape, and he stands and drops some money on the table.
‘I don’t understand what I did to make you ghost me like you did, and I’m not asking you to tell me, though I hope one day you will.
I’ll be heading to East Mill to poke around, because that’s how I do my job.
If you’d like to come along, the offer stands.
’ His teeth graze across his bottom lip as he looks down at me.
‘Callum—’ My voice is so low it’s barely a whisper.
‘It was good seeing you again,’ he says. ‘Take care, okay?’ Spinning on his heel, he stalks away, walking out the door without a backward glance.
I press my pack of frozen peas to the nasty red bump on my head again and flop onto the couch. With last night’s ghost attack and now everything that happened today with Callum, my brain is thumping.
It’s been hours since Callum stormed from the cafe.
I didn’t mean to lash out at him. No matter how much he hurt me, I didn’t want to be cruel.
That’s not who I am. I didn’t even believe what I was saying.
I think he’s a great investigator, I know he is.
I was just so disappointed that he only contacted me because he needed a psychic, and not because he wanted to.
I’m so mad at myself for feeling like this.
I’m even madder about walking away from all that money.
I want to buy Maggie out. She’s not pressing me for it yet, but who knows when she might need the cash herself.
I’d be so happy if I could surprise her and give her $10,000 in one big chunk.
She could go on that trip to the Grand Canyon she’s always going on about.
And then there’s the Western house. Why can’t I stop thinking about it?
I need to be part of Callum’s investigation if I’m going to find out.
So I grab my phone. My hands are actually shaking. I’ve got to get it together. It’s just a job. A very well-paid job out of town with Callum. Oh god.
I type up a message and send it before I have second thoughts.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m not good with the living, remember? I want to take the job. If you still want me?
I toss the peas onto the coffee table, flip open my laptop and do a photo search for the Western house.
Regardless of what happens with Callum’s investigation, my curiosity is piqued.
The house gives me a weird feeling and I need to know why.
As I flick through the images, I’m hit again with the same sensation.
The feeling that I know the house, that I’ve seen it before. A buzz of familiarity. A pull.
I grab my phone again and type up another awkward message, this time to my sister.
Hey, did we ever go to East Mill when we were kids?
Sorry, what? I haven’t heard from you in two months and now you’re asking me about happy family holidays? Maybe you should ask Dad. Oh wait…
I cringe at her salty response. I deserved that.
Dad’s still mad at me about his Labor Day cookout, so I won’t be asking him.
I go back to staring at the house, even more miserable than before.
It’s as if it’s calling to me, begging me to go there, and I find that disturbing, even though I deal with disturbing things every day.
But if there’s really a centuries-old ghost so powerful I can sense it through photos, I have to check it out and send that spirit on its way.
Isn’t that what I was put on this earth to do?
To move the dead along. What other reason could there be for this nightmare of a ‘gift’?
I scribble a few notes in my journal, then slam my laptop closed and slouch against the cushions. I’ll give Callum another hour and then I’ll call him. Maybe. No, I’ll definitely call him. Probably. I huff, pick up the soggy peas and scuff mournfully across my small living room and into my kitchen.
You’re a coward, Holly Daniels , I tell myself as I toss the peas back into the freezer. And you’re going to die alone and be eaten by rats .
I take a half-finished Meat Lover’s pizza out of the fridge and give it a quick sniff, shove it into the microwave and drop heavily onto a kitchen chair.
That’s when I hear the ding. I rush to the living room, swearing loudly as I stub my toe on the ottoman, hopping the rest of the way to the coffee table.
I grab my phone and instantly fumble it, juggling it midair.
When it’s finally clasped safely in my hand, I stand perfectly still, squeeze my eyes shut, and take a deep breath.
Then I check the screen. My heart skips a beat.
Hi Holly. Of course the invitation’s still open. Give me a call and we can talk details.
I read his message three times, then hover my finger nervously over his name.
He told you to call him . I put the phone down.
You’re just talking details . I snatch it back up again.
You face ghosts, you can do this . With a determined breath, I finally press call.
Callum answers before I even hear it ring.
‘Holly, I didn’t mean you had to call straight away.’
‘Oh.’ Oh shit . ‘Sorry, I’ll—’
‘It’s okay,’ he says through a laugh. ‘We can sort it out now.’
‘Actually, before we do that, I just wanted to say that I do respect the work you do, and I even think some of your gadgets are… you know… um… cool.’ I chew a nail as I wait for his response.
He takes a beat, then chuckles quietly. ‘What do you say we start today again? You’re just lucky I’m such a pushover, Daniels.’
The way he says my name makes my stomach attempt an Olympic-level somersault. ‘So, East Mill. What’s the plan?’ I say excessively cheerily. He huffs out another quiet laugh and I cringe at how obvious and awkward I am.
‘I was thinking about heading out there tomorrow,’ he says. ‘I’ll probably stay out there a few days.’
A few days? I thought he was kidding about the spooky getaway. My stomach continues its gymnastic routine. ‘Oh, um. Yes. But no. I mean.’ Breathe, for god’s sake . ‘I can’t do tomorrow. I have a job booked.’
‘Then how’s Sunday?’
‘I can do Sunday. Should we take my car? I’m assuming you still have that old junker of a truck.’
‘Are you intent on offending me today? I’ll have you know that truck’s a classic. But it’s also the most uncomfortable car in history. So yes, let’s take yours. Besides, I do love to be chauffeured.’
The microwave suddenly announces that my pizza is ready with a loud bing .
‘What’s for dinner?’ he asks.
‘Pizza. Meat Lover’s.’
‘Meat lover, huh?’
The innuendo drips off my phone like the grease from my pizza.
‘Oh my god. Was that your attempt at a sex joke? To think a minute ago I was feeling bad for you. Send me your address. I’ll text you Sunday morning when I’m on my way over. Jesus.’
He laughs. ‘See you Sunday, Holly.’