“Hmmmm, let me see,” I offered in a sarcastic tone, speaking a bit louder. “Could it be the fact that you’re really fucking annoying?”
“You can do better than that.”
“Okay, how about that I’m not terribly impressed with that little stunt you pulled this afternoon? That good enough for you?”
As I finished the sentence, I glanced over at the passenger side. As I suspected, there she was, fully decked out in her cheerleading uniform, hair up in a ponytail, and her arms crossed over her chest.
“I helped you find out what you were after, didn’t I?” she stated more than asked. “You just needed a little push in the right direction, that’s all.”
“Not literally,” I replied.
All of the progress I’d made so far seemed to simply fly out the window. If anyone were to pull alongside it would probably look like I was talking to myself. I felt utterly insane sitting here having an argument with a ghost while traveling down the highway on Christmas Eve. Of course, what better night could one pick to be visited by a ghost? Do I hear Scrooge, anyone?
I let out a heavy sigh then told her, “I think I liked it better when you just did the automatic writing. You were a hell of a lot less annoying that way.”
“I’m not annoying. You just weren’t paying enough attention,” she spat. “Besides, this is more fun.”
“Fun? Give me a break, will you? I’m doing the best that I can. I’ve got my own problems you know.”
“What? Like I don’t have problems?”
“In case you weren’t paying attention, Debbie, the guy who tried to kill me last February is running around loose.”
“Yeah, so? I’m already dead.”
“So you’ve told me…repeatedly… And I hate to tell you this but that’s something I can’t fix.”
“Don’t be so selfish, Rowan. You’re supposed to be helping me. Paige is counting on you too.”
“What?” I exclaimed aloud. “ Me being selfish? What about you?”
Yes, it was official. I had to be insane. There was no other explanation.
“Yes, you being selfish. Here you are all worried about your problems when I’m dead. Dead I am, dead I am,…”
“…I do not like that dead I am, yeah Debbie, I get it. Will you please give the cheerleading crap a rest?” I announced with a healthy note of exasperation. “Can we move on to something else?”
“That’s up to you, Rowan. If you’ll just start paying attention.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She didn’t answer. I glanced over at the passenger seat and found an empty void. She was gone. Great, I thought to myself. Now she’s going to give me riddles. Of course, that’s what they all do. I’ve never understood why spirits can’t just say what they mean and be done with it.
Although, I had to admit that this particular specter was a first in my book. Most of the ethereal visits I’d experienced tended to take place during a heavily tranced state or even sleep. Clues were often complex strings of symbolic messages that required serious deciphering. Debbie seemed to be phasing back and forth between the planes at will and was even carrying on conversations-cryptic yes, but conversations nonetheless. This was definitely one I needed to record in my dream journal.
I jerked with a quick start as the music suddenly returned, blaring through the cab of the truck. I reached over and turned the volume down, then took a drag from my cigarette, and propped my hand up on the steering wheel.
The lane dividing line flashed by in my headlights, flickering in on-again/off-again reflective stripes. I continued to stare out the windshield, over the top of the steering wheel, and through the rippling column of smoke that was rising from my burning cigarette. Eventually, reflex drove me to bring my hand toward my face for yet another puff, and my vision was suddenly replaced by a Technicolor flash of memory.
A lit cigarette smokes in his free hand as the other pumps faster between his legs. I concentrate on the glowing coal, not wanting to witness his self-stimulation. I watch him raise the cigarette to take a puff and notice that it is positioned between his middle fingers.
Curious.
I’ve never seen anyone hold a cigarette like that before.
As the bloom of color faded, I jerked the wheel quickly to the left in order to correct for my inattentive drifting, which was just about to cause me to run off the road at the Hampton exit. When I’d settled the vehicle back into the lane and swallowed my heart back down into my chest, I stole another glance at my hand. There between my middle fingers rested the smoldering cigarette.
No wonder I was so screwed up. I wasn’t channeling the victims; I was channeling the rapist. I had been all along.
I started to reach for my cell phone in order to call Ben but stopped mid stretch. There was nothing he could do with the information at this point in time, so why bother him. Besides, I’d be home soon. I’d pick up Felicity and we’d head over to his house for dinner; therefore, I could tell him in person.
I glanced at the clock on the dash and saw that it was now a quarter after six. It had taken longer to get myself together and get out of police headquarters than I’d expected. The last stop for the “Santa Brigade” was merely a donation check drop-off at a food bank less than a mile from our house. Make the presentation, a few quick pictures, and they would be out of there, so Felicity was most likely already home by now.
My biggest concern at this point was figuring out how to pack an overnight bag for the two of us without her asking why.
This was going to be a tough one.
It was 6:25 when I turned my truck into the driveway of our Briarwood home. I slowly urged the vehicle toward the garage at the back of the house, fully prepared to stop and open the gate that normally barred the path but found it was already propped open. I continued forward through the opening and canted the steering wheel to the left. The motion from making the turn around the corner of the deck triggered the outdoor sentry, and floodlights snapped on to light the landscape. Felicity’s Jeep was already parked in the garage.
My suspicions about timing had been dead on, and I still had no idea how I was going to get the overnight bag past her. The only resolution I had come upon was to forget the bag altogether. I was going to have to come back to the house tomorrow anyway, that much was a foregone conclusion. For one thing, there was a house full of animals that needed to be taken care of, and even with Ben’s promise of seeing to it, Felicity or I should be involved in the process, and it might as well be me.
I sat there thinking about it for a moment. We could easily set up extra food and water for the cats. The truth was, they would probably enjoy having the run of the place for a while. However, the dogs were going to require quite a bit more attention. Either they would have to go with us, or we would need to board them somewhere. Depending on how long this all took, that could get expensive, unless one of our friends was willing to take them in for the duration.
This lead to yet another thought-there was the fact that we both worked out of the house. My office was here and so was Felicity’s darkroom. Over the holidays it would be slow, so we’d be able to manage, but that lull was going to be over soon enough.
What if they weren’t able to find Porter right away? What if he went on another killing spree in the process of coming after me? What if he targeted my friends in order to get to me?
I could feel myself shaking my head almost unconsciously. I had no idea how we were going to make this work, and I was starting to obsess about it.
I shifted the truck into park and switched off the engine then took a deep breath. “Just take things one step at a time,” I muttered to myself. “That’s what you need to do-just take it one step at a time.”
Heeding my own advice I climbed out of the truck and made my way up the stairs and across the deck to the atrium door. The cool day had folded itself into a cold night, and I could see my breath in a frosty cloud. I shuffled through my keys then raised my free hand to the door handle, but I never got the key into the lock. Upon resting my hand on the lever-shaped handle, I pressed down out of reflex. The moment I did, the latch clicked and the door
