“Does she see something?” Shawn asked on a whisper.
“No, she just likes talking to empty air for entertainment,” Zander snapped.
“It was just a question.” Shawn was suddenly on the defensive. “I don’t get to see her work very often. I’m fascinated by the process.”
“Basically we’re going to stand here for who knows how long and listen to one side of the conversation,” Zander explained. “Once she’s done, she’ll nutshell whatever they talked about for us and we’ll go from there. That’s the process.”
“It sounds boring.”
“Oh, it is.”
Jared shot them a look and raised a finger to his lips to quiet them before turning his full attention to Harper.
For her part, the intrepid blonde looked both relieved and relaxed as she regarded the ghost loitering at the edge of the clearing.
“I know who you are,” Leslie announced, her voice soft. “I remember you.”
“That’s good.” Harper nodded encouragingly. “Do you remember our conversation last night? You came to me ... in a different place.”
“It was a place that looked like this.”
“Kind of,” Harper acknowledged. “It wasn’t real like this location, though. Can you tell the difference now?”
Leslie was morose as she nodded. “I’m dead.”
Harper knew better than lying. In situations like this, the only way to build trust was to tell the truth. “You are.”
“How did I die?”
“We’re not entirely certain. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Talking to you.”
“That happened last night,” Harper explained. “It was almost twenty-four hours ago. It also happened in a dream.”
Leslie’s eyes went wide. “Wait ... is this a dream?”
She looked so hopeful Harper felt as if her heart was about to be crushed in a vise. “I’m sorry but ... no. You see, I can talk to ghosts. I don’t know why. It’s just one of those things I can do. Somehow, you and I connected on a ... magical ... level. I don’t know how else to explain it. That conversation we had last night happened in a dream.”
“But if it happened in a dream, maybe all of this is a dream.” Leslie was suddenly animated. “All I have to do is wake myself up.”
Harper opened her mouth to argue with the assumption, but it was already too late. Leslie mimed stomping her foot against the ground and screaming to the heavens. Harper assumed she was the only one who could hear her, and yet one look at Jared had her rethinking that.
“Did you ... ?”
“What was that?” Jared asked on a breathless whisper, his gaze moving to the trees.
“Did you hear that?” Harper queried.
“Hear what?”
“Leslie screamed. She’s trying to wake herself up. She thinks it’s a dream.”
“I didn’t hear that,” he said. “The birds reacted, though. They shifted in the trees.”
“He’s right.” Shawn was in awe. “The birds reacted to whatever she did.”
Harper cocked her head to the side, considering, and then pushed the new development out of her mind. It was something to consider later. Right now, it had absolutely nothing to do with the problem at hand.
Leslie screamed again, at the top of her lungs, and then turned a frustrated glare on Harper. “I’m not waking up.”
“You’re not,” Harper agreed. “You’re never going to wake up, at least not in the manner you want. I’m sorry.”
“Did you do this?” Leslie’s tone was accusatory, and she energetically jabbed her finger at Harper. “I bet you’re the reason this happened.”
Harper opted for her most pragmatic tone. “What motive do I have for killing you?”
“I don’t know. What motive does anybody have to kill anyone?”
“Actually, you would be surprised.” Harper’s smile was rueful. “Most of the time motive is the deciding factor for murder. Some attacks are crimes of opportunity, of course, but that’s the exception rather than the norm.”
“I don’t understand.” Leslie looked as if she was going to start crying, and yet she no longer possessed that ability. Instead she mimed constant swipes at her blonde hair. “I don’t understand any of this. How did I die?”
“We’re not sure. That’s why we’re out here.” Harper hesitated and then barreled forward. “Your body was found in this location after dinner yesterday. We’re not entirely certain how long you were out here. What we do know is that you had a wound, meaning you were likely stabbed in the chest. It was a terrible wound, one that took you out quickly.”
Leslie was silent for a beat ... and then she made a disgusted face. “So, basically you’re telling me that I didn’t suffer. Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I hoped it would be comforting. If it’s not, though, I understand.”
“Well, it’s not.” Leslie turned away from Harper and stared at the spot where her body was discovered. “Why don’t I remember what happened?”
“I don’t know.” Harper held out her hands. “The thing is, sometimes death is so traumatic, souls that remain behind can’t wrap their head around what happened. So, in an effort to protect themselves, they black out the things that were done to them.
“The fact that you remained behind probably means that you’re angry about what happened or that you were ripped so violently from your life that you didn’t realize what was happening,” she continued. “Can you tell me what you were feeling when you woke up?”
“Confused.” Leslie mimed rubbing her cheek, a reaction Harper had no doubt she carried over from life. “It wasn’t like waking up. It was as if I suddenly started bleeding into existence. Does that make sense?”
“I guess.”
“It was like a dream,” Leslie continued. “It was one of those weird dreams you have when you’re halfway between waking and sleep. Things are slow, your legs won’t work as they’re supposed to. Nothing is quite clear because everything is cloudy at the edges of your consciousness.”
“That sounds terrifying,” Harper admitted. “I’m sorry you were so afraid.”
“I wasn’t really afraid, though. I was floating. I didn’t feel fear. I just ... felt nothing.”
“Well, to me, that sounds terrifying, too.” The smile Harper mustered was rueful.
