Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Why put off the inevitable? He knew what he had to do, like it or not. After closing up shop, Colt started walking. He didn’t rush but he didn’t lollygag, either. Lollygag. A word Maude might use, but it fit. There were opportunities to stop, when he saw friends, when he was tempted by a window display or the smell of baked or fried foods that made his mouth water, but he kept going. All he could do was move forward. If he stopped he might never get started again.
Too soon he found himself on the sidewalk in front of the Miller house, as he had a couple of days ago. Jack wasn’t on the porch today. That didn’t mean the ghost wasn’t here; that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching and waiting.
Jack could tell him what had happened, and with that information Colt would find evidence. Somehow. Once he knew something, anything , he’d come up with a plan of some sort. Didn’t sound exactly like a stellar plan, but it was a place to start. Once the mystery was solved the spirit of his old friend could move on. It would be hard on Anna and her mom to find out the truth, but would it be harder than years of believing their son and brother would walk away from them without looking back? Would it be worse than waiting every holiday, every day really, for him to come home or call or send a freakin’ postcard?
Colt walked up the steps to the small porch and to the front door. He knocked before he could change his mind. As a teenager he’d spent a lot of time in this house. Jack hadn’t always been an asshole. Maybe that was too harsh. He hadn’t always been the easiest person in the world, but he’d had his charm. They’d played baseball on the same team, gone on double dates, just hung out in his bedroom or Jack’s listening to records and avoiding homework until the last possible moment.
Those had been good days. At the time he hadn’t realized how good.
Anna answered the door. Her hair was mussed and she had a spot of dirt on her nose. She wore those same shorts that showed off her legs, but she’d changed from the faded Nashville T-shirt into an oversized Seawolf Beach tank. Damn, she was cute. It was the smile, he decided. That smile was bright and real.
The rest of her wasn’t hard to look at, either.
“Come on in,” she said, stepping back. “You just missed Nicole. She took one framed print and a box of crystal and porcelain stuff that she thinks she can sell on consignment.” Anna lowered her voice. “Sadly it was a pretty small box, and just the one framed picture. A duck, that monstrosity that hung in the den for years. Dad thought it might be worth something one day. I’ll need to make another visit to your dumpster soon.” She glanced toward the dining room. “I think I have the records together. They were scattered all over the house. On a shelf here, in a closet there. I’m sorry to say, they’re not at all organized.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Colt said as he glanced around the living room, checking every corner. No Jack. No ghosts at all. “I’ll clean them, make sure they’re in good shape, and organize as I go.”
“I appreciate this so much,” Anna said. “It’s one more thing I don’t have to do.” She laughed. “Because I put it off on you! Sorry.”
“No problem. I like cleaning an old album, then listening to it to see if it’s going to skip and crackle or play perfectly. It’s like going back in time.” He didn’t mention that he and Jack had listened to a lot of the records in this house together, back in the day.
“Mrs. Miller,” he said when Anna’s mom walked into the room to join them. “It’s been a while.”
“Coltrane Hart, it’s so good to see you.” Like his mother, she insisted on calling him by his full first name. Colt didn’t suit her at all. She gave him a quick hug and a smile. “Call me Nina. You’re not a kid anymore.”
Jack didn’t drift into view, he appeared fully formed and almost solid, directly behind his mother.
Colt couldn’t help it; he jumped a little. He’d never get used to this.
Jack noticed. He smiled widely, and then he said in a voice no one else could hear, “You do see me.”
They always knew. How the hell was that possible? He’d tried to ignore ghosts before, hoping they’d go away. Did he have a glow for the spirits, the way they did for him? The fact that he’d reacted when Jack appeared would’ve been a clue, he supposed, but he didn’t think that was it. No, they simply knew .
He needed time alone with the ghost somehow.
If his assumption about spirits going into the afterlife in what they’d been wearing at the time of death was correct, Jack hadn’t died while on a date or at a business dinner. He wore a pair of baggy shorts and running shoes. That was it. Not quite as bad as dying in the shower, but still, less than ideal for an eternity.
Colt tried to keep his focus on the living occupants of the house. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Nina,” he said, doing his best to ignore Jack, who’d started talking at full volume. The ghost had things to say and he wanted his old friend to hear every word. Colt held up a silencing finger and shook it, which he hoped the living in his presence would take as a quirk, not a rude gesture to them. He continued to smile, which wasn’t easy.
Nina returned his smile and seemed not to notice the finger, which Jack, surprisingly, obeyed. The ghost being shushed didn’t like it, though. Not at all.
“Well, I don’t get out much since Donnie passed,” she said, “and if I did I don’t suppose I’d need another old vinyl record. I don’t know what to do with the ones I have!” She laughed at that, though it wasn’t exactly funny. The laughter didn’t last. “To be honest, I don’t leave the house much at all. These days I can get everything I need delivered to the front door. It’s so convenient. What if Jack calls and I’m not here? What if he comes home and… Oh, what was I thinking? I can’t move to Florida! Sally will just have to come here.”
“Mom,” Anna said gently. “We’ve talked about this. If Jack decides to reconnect with us he can find you at Aunt Sally’s. She’s been in the same house for thirty years. Her house is bigger than this one and it’s already been remodeled to accommodate her wheelchair. Your room is so nice! I loved those pictures Emily sent when we started planning the move. It’s much bigger than your bedroom here.”
Nina sighed. Jack dropped his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry I missed Mr. Miller’s funeral,” Colt said. Sorry, not sorry. Funeral homes were the worst. He avoided them at all costs. “He was a good guy.” Had a temper, could be moody, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. They knew better than he did.
She didn’t say a word, but he could tell what Nina was thinking. I thought Jack would be here for the funeral, at least .
They exchanged a few pleasantries, talking about the weather and the new restaurant in town, then Colt said, “Let’s have a look at these records.”
Anna led Colt upstairs to Jack’s old bedroom, where she’d dumped the records she’d found here and there. Since many of them had been in the small closet in this bedroom, the placement made sense. Jack had been the one in the family with the record player, after all. He’d even listened to their parents’ old records, on occasion.
The room was small, as hers was. The bedroom in her Nashville apartment was easily twice the size. A double bed where boxes of records and a few loose ones had been deposited, a dresser, and a battered end table pretty much filled the room.
It had never been good enough for Jack. This room, this house, his family, Seawolf Beach. The life he’d been born into had been too small and ordinary for him.
Anna hid her feelings from her mother, but she was still angry with her brother. So he’d never gotten along with their father, so Mom had always sided with her husband. What about her ? He could’ve reached out to her at any time, he could’ve let her know where he was, but he hadn’t.
“Where do you want to start?” she asked. There were four cardboard boxes on the bed. Colt shifted the one on the end, which seemed to be a bit precarious, toward the middle. “Want to look through the records here, or take them all back to your place? We can load my trunk and I’ll drive you to the door, if you’d like.”
“Let me look at them here, if you don’t mind, to get a feel for what you have. They might not be worth the hassle. If they are I’ll come back with my truck.”
“Well, if they need to be disposed of we’ll have to use your dumpster again. Mom is having a hard time accepting that any of her things aren’t worth saving. Interested in a cranberry sauce dish? She has four.”
Colt looked at her and grinned. It was a good smile, always had been, but it was different now than it had been all those years ago. She saw the hurt in him, the darkness that comes with years of living, loss, and life’s disappointments. But still, it was nice. Maybe he didn’t know it, but there was optimism in his smile. He’d suffered, but he had hope.
Ooh, that would make a good song.
“Let me take a look. Once I know what we’re dealing with we can make a plan.”
The room suddenly seemed even smaller than usual, with both of them in it. How did Colt suck all the air out of the room? “I’ll leave you to it,” she said. “Holler if you need anything.”
Anna returned to the ground floor and found her mother in the kitchen, cooking. They could easily eat out every meal; Seawolf Beach was home to more good — some great — restaurants per square mile than was normal, and many of them delivered. But Nina insisted on using up every can of food, every expired spice, every old hunk of freezer-burned meat she’d found among the ice cube trays — actual ancient metal ice cube trays — and frosty frozen veggies.
Tonight something that looked to be a take on Hamburger Helper simmered in a big pan. Ground beef, peas, some kind of unidentified sauce and a curly pasta. She hoped there was cheese somewhere in that over-loaded fridge. Cheese saved everything.
“We should ask Coltrane to supper,” Nina said. “To thank him.”
Could the pan of whatever that was be considered a thanks ? That was a stretch. “I’m sure he has plans.”
“It won’t hurt to ask,” she said, a little snippy. “He’s doing us a favor, after all.”
That was true enough. His dumpster alone was a godsend.
Nina stirred and sighed. “Poor guy, he was never the same after the accident.”
They hadn’t talked about Colt much in the past few years. When Anna came home her visits were quick and entirely about family. It wasn’t like she and Colt had been friends as children. The age difference had been too great. He’d been Jack’s friend, and any discussion of Colt would bring them around to Jack. A sore subject. She hadn’t even known about the accident that had injured him and killed his wife until years after the fact.
She’d been busy with her own life, her career, and at that time, an active dating life. About that time she’d gotten engaged to the rat she’d eventually married.
“I’m sure he was devastated. I can’t even imagine…”
“He talks to himself,” Nina whispered. “A lot. His mother was so worried. Apparently at first it was really bad, but I hear he still walks around town whispering to no one, acting as if someone is with him. Maybe I don’t get out much, but people visit on occasion and they do keep me up to speed.” She gave Anna a censuring look. “I know you used to have a crush on him back in the day, but steer clear. He’s gone all squirrelly.”
Not a word she’d use to describe Colt, but it wasn’t like she was going to stay in Seawolf Beach. It didn’t matter if she was attracted to him or not.
“I’m going to take him a glass of water, and while I’m up there I’ll ask if he wants to stay for supper.” At the same time she’d warn him what was on the stove.
Nina nodded and headed for the fridge. And cheese, Anna hoped.
She fixed a glass of water and carried it up the stairs. Her mother’s warning about Colt had backfired. It made her think. Maybe she wasn’t going to stick around after her mother moved, but she’d been divorced for years, had tried and failed to date, and she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Colt. Not in the same way she’d been as a teenager. They weren’t kids anymore. He was good-looking, unattached as far as she knew, had a great body and a killer smile. He made her tingle a little. Okay, yes, he was a blast from the past, but was that really a bad thing? She’d never had a fling before. Sex with no expectations. No promises. Just… fun. A connection that wouldn’t last but was fun all the same. Maybe it was time.
He was not squirrelly.
As she approached Jack’s room, she noticed the door was closed. She hadn’t left it that way. Why would Colt…
And then she heard him. Talking to no one, her mother had said. Ridiculous. Maybe he was singing, badly, inspired by one of the records. Maybe he just talked to himself. Some people did. As she lifted her hand to knock on the door before opening it, she made out a couple of whispered words.
“Dammit, Jack!”
Jack’s head snapped up a split second before Colt heard the knock.
“Come in,” he said.
Anna opened the door. She’d heard him, he knew it. Her face told all. He’d kept his voice down, but she’d been right there .
“I thought you might want a glass of water.” Ice rattled against the glass as she lifted it.
“Thanks.” He took the offering from her. “I’m afraid you caught me.”
“Doing what?” she asked, trying and failing not to look or sound suspicious. She was a bit too wide-eyed. Oh, those baby blues.
“Talking to Jack,” he confessed.
She blinked hard, twice.
“We spent a lot of time in this room. The memories came flooding back, and I just…”
“Ah,” she said, obviously relieved. “I suppose I’ve talked to my absent brother a time or two myself, and I probably used just those words.” Dammit, Jack. She’d probably added in an angry, How could you?
“Making any progress?” she asked. A few records were spread across the bed, but most were still in their boxes.
“A little. There are some good ones in here. Nothing super valuable, at least not yet, but someone will want them.”
“Mom’s making some kind of leftover mystery concoction and she wanted me to ask you to stay for supper.”
“Sure.”
“I’m warning you…”
“I was going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when I got back to the depot, so I’ll take my chances. Just give me five more minutes with these and I’ll come down.”
For now five minutes would have to do, though he and Jack needed to have a long, uninterrupted conversation.
Anna left, closing the door behind her, and Colt turned to his old friend. Jack stood near the window that looked over the back yard. So far, he’d been no help at all. He’d refused to answer questions about how and when he’d died. Could he answer? Did he know? He kept insisting Jack tell his mother he was dead. He wanted her to know he hadn’t run away and stayed gone.
“Why didn’t you tell Anna that I’m here?” Jack asked.
“How am I supposed to explain that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about telling her the truth? I died for a few minutes and now I see the dead. Jack is right here. He didn’t run! Simple.”
“No one knows what I see.”
“Maybe it’s about time they did,” Jack snapped.
“I don’t want to be the town freak.”
Jack moved too close. “Own what you are, Coltrane Hart. Every town needs their own freak.” With a look of contrition, the spirit drifted back. “Sorry. I… I want them to know what happened.”
“What did happen?”
Jack looked out the window. “I died.”
“How?”
“I’m pretty sure someone killed me.”
Made sense. If Jack had died nearby of natural causes or in an accident, someone would’ve found the body. “Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know who killed you?”
This time the ghost shouted. “I don’t know!”
The window behind Jack rattled. The albums on the bed shimmied and slid. This was… new.
“We need to figure it out,” Colt said. “If you tell me who killed you I can work backwards, solve the crime, and take what I know to the cops. Problem solved without everyone knowing I’m the town freak.”
“Sorry about that,” Jack said. “I’ve been dead five years, and sometimes I’m still an asshole. What a pair we are; a jerk and a loony.”
“You weren’t always an asshole,” Colt said. “Often enough, but not always.”
“You saw the best in me. So did Anna. I want her to… I want Anna and Mom to know that I didn’t run away and stay gone. That’ll be hard for them to believe, since I did have a tendency to run off in a huff when Dad and I fought, or when I didn’t get what I wanted. Stupid,” he muttered. “But I always came back. I would’ve come back that last time, too, if I could’ve.”
“What happened to your body? Are you buried around here somewhere?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not much help,” Colt snapped.
Jack shook his head. “All I remember is going for a run. It was late. I’d rented a room at the B no one cared. Then a few weeks ago it started to work. I hit a chair and it wobbled. I ran my hand through the kitchen curtains and they moved. Now the angrier I get, the easier it is.”
What were the odds that had started when he’d figured out his mother was about to leave this house? “Lose the anger,” Colt instructed.
“That’s easier said…”
Colt held up a silencing finger. “Set it aside and concentrate on what happened when you died. Any little detail will help. You went for a run. Alone?”
“I think so.”
If he’d died of a heart attack or some other medical event while running, someone would’ve found the body soon after. “You’re not sure?”
“I’m not sure of anything!” There was a small tremor, but it didn’t grow. Not this time.
“You haven’t given me anything that will help me find out what happened to you.” Or where the body was. If it was out to sea…
Anna’s voice echoed up the stairs. “Supper’s ready when you are.”
Colt took a deep breath and prepared himself to face Jack’s mother and sister with his ghost hovering over them all. “Stay in your room. In this quiet space, look back and think. I need details.”
As he opened the bedroom door a whispering voice behind him said, “I saw how you looked at Anna. Don’t you dare fuck my little sister.”
“Still an asshole,” Colt responded. He closed the door firmly behind him.