Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“So Pompous Doug wouldn’t talk to you at all?” Harper asked Natalie.
They were back to using the unflattering nickname for him—at least in private—since he’d proven he was as much of an ass in death as he was in life.
Natalie shook her head in answer to the question. “Not a word.”
Seated next to Natalie in the meeting room early the following morning, Harper visibly deflated and slumped against the back of the sofa.
The shop wasn’t open for the day yet, but the meeting room was packed. At least to Natalie’s eye it was full. Ghosts occupied every available seat, plus more standing around. But to Harper, it would appear she and Natalie were sitting alone.
“I really tried,” Natalie continued. “I followed him back to his house, which was tricky since he walked home alongside his wife. The woman must think I’m some kind of weirdo walking so closely behind her on the sidewalk in the dark.”
“And we didn’t give up after he went inside the house either,” Gabe explained while holding Millie’s hand so Harper would be able to hear him.
“After Natalie went home, the ghost watch took over. The team on duty for that shift followed him inside and badgered him until he finally ran out of the room.”
“He not only ran out of the room, but clear out of the house,” Rick continued even though Harper wouldn’t be able to hear him. “He ended up in the cemetery.”
“That’s where I found him hiding behind the big Sands family obelisk,” Harriet added.
“And did you talk to him?” Natalie asked.
“I did.” Harriet nodded.
“Doug tried to hide but Harriet found him,” Natalie explained briefly for Harper’s benefit, then turned back to Harriet. “Go on. Did he say anything?”
Harriet let out a short laugh. “Not much, but it was how he said it and how he looked that was most telling. Natalie, that man is terrified.”
Natalie frowned. “Really?”
“What?” Harper’s frown deepened. “And have I said how annoying it is that I can only hear Gabe and Millie and only when they’re together and not all the rest of the ghosts?”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Natalie mumbled.
“Hey!” Rick said, sounding insulted.
Natalie ignored him and turned to Harper. “Harriet says Doug looked terrified.”
Harper’s brows shot high. “Really? Of what?”
Harriet lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know and he didn’t say.
But when I told him I just wanted to ask him one question, what happened to him right before he died, he shook his head.
Then he said, begged really, for us to leave him alone.
He demanded we stop asking questions about that night.
Then he took off running. Not from me, mind you.
I wasn’t chasing him. Lord knows my running days are long gone.
But Doug sprinted away like he was in a race for his life.
He’s deathly afraid of something. I’d bet my therapist license on it. ”
“But what could he be afraid of?” Natalie asked.
“Exactly,” Harper agreed. “I mean, he’s already dead. What else could happen to him?”
Natalie looked to the others in the room, the spirits, for answers. As a living she certainly didn’t have any answers of her own.
Most of the ghosts shook their heads. All except one.
Train Track Tim.
She leaned forward. “Tim. Do you know something?”
He nodded.
This was going to be interesting trying to get answers out of a ghost who couldn’t talk. Time for spectral charades.
“Do you know what Doug is frightened of?” she asked.
Tim lifted the shoulder of his existing arm.
Interpreting that response as best she could, Natalie asked, “You’re not sure, but do you have a guess?”
Tim nodded vigorously, rattling what remained of his missing jaw. He reached out with his one hand and with a single finger, traced a letter on the table.
“D,” Natalie said aloud as she watched him.
“What’s happening?” Harper asked.
“Tim is writing something,” she answered quickly. Then as he formed the next letter she said, “R.”
He continued writing, and she went on reading the letters aloud until Tim finally leaned back. Natalie mentally reviewed the letters.
“Dreams,” Harriet breathed, before Natalie was able to cobble together the word in her head.
“Dreams?” Natalie repeated.
“What does that mean?” Harper asked.
“I’ve heard of it before,” Harriet began. “In the ghost world, some spirits are destined to relive the moment of their death. Over and over again. It’s not so much a dream, exactly. More like an… echo.”
“It sounds like more of a nightmare,” Rick commented.
“And odd, because I don’t remember my stabbing. And Millie doesn’t remember falling to her death.”
Harriet nodded. “You’re right. It’s not common. But it does happen. I’m guessing when the trauma is bad enough.”
“Is it like a residual haunting?” Natalie asked.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “You and your residual hauntings.”
Natalie frowned at him as Harriet continued, “For those I’ve heard talk about it, it seems like the more violent, the more terrifying the death the more likely the victims are to experience it over and over again.”
Again Tim nodded his head.
“Tim, do you have these dreams?” Natalie asked.
He tipped his head once, slowly, and her heart broke for him. As if his death and his afterlife weren’t horrible enough in the state he was left in, he had to relive it over and over again? Forever?
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Tim bobbed his head one more time in acknowledgment.
“So you’re saying, Harriet, and Tim too, that we think Doug’s death was so horrific that he’s having recurring waking nightmares about it?” Gabe asked audibly for Harper to hear as well.
Harper frowned. “But Doug died in his home in the kitchen, supposedly from a heart attack. That doesn’t seem too horrific. There was no blood. No signs of an attack… except for a heart attack that is.”
“No visible signs of an attack,” Millie said, speaking up for the first time during this morning’s meeting.
Harper leaned forward on the sofa in response to Millie’s words. “So we think something or someone terrified him. So badly it killed him? So horribly he still fears it now, even in death? That couldn’t have been me from that little disagreement at the meeting.”
“But doesn’t it seem like it’s not just dreams or memories of his death?” Millie continued. “He ran in the cemetery. He doesn’t want anyone to even discuss it. It’s like he’s still running from the threat now.”
“Like the threat still exists,” Natalie guessed.
“Yes.” Millie nodded.
Gabe squeezed Millie’s hand. “My girl’s becoming quite the little detective. Millie’s been binging true crime podcasts along with Harper.”
Harper smiled. “It’s true. I decided my next book is going to be a murder mystery. When I can focus enough to finally write again. At least something good could come out of this situation. And I’ll need the money for my legal fees.”
“No, you will not. If something bad frightened Doug to death, and it’s still around now, we’ll find it. We won’t stop looking until we do. All of us.” Natalie glanced around the room and saw the nods of everyone there.
Then Alice came trotting into the meeting room. “Well, it happened again. Margaret Trout is dead.”