A Ghost of a Chance (20 page)

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Authors: Evelyn Klebert

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Fantasy, #Visionary & Metaphysical

BOOK: A Ghost of a Chance
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No, I was damned by her, to this eternal life of suffering.”


Really?” His vision was beginning to swirl. He couldn’t guess the rules here, but it felt like time was running out.

And then Samory’s eyes widened with what Jack could only interpret as fear. He’d slipped. Jack could feel it. Maybe it was a key of some sort. “What happened to the maiden Samory?”


No more,” his voice was deep but edged with panic.


How could she damn you? Was she a witch, an enchantress,” silence, “or did she just create you?”


Noooo,” the voice boomed from the mausoleum and seemed to resonate from everywhere.

And then Jack felt himself hurled, actually physically expelled from where he was. He tumbled face first into a small patch of grass.

His bruised body rested on the moist earth. For quite some time, he was reluctant to move. He’d forgotten what pain felt like. But shortly after, once his skin began to tingle and then itch, he reassessed. Awkwardly pulling himself up on his knees, it felt as though every part of him was battered. He drew in a deep, cool breath that thankfully was not dusty.

Around him he recognized the shapes in the darkness – statues and tombs. Evidently it seemed that Samory had managed to thrust him just out of the mausoleum. The dynamics of Hallie’s world eluded him, but he was no fool. He stood up, still feeling shaky. At least that crushing pressure in his chest had left, that was something. With effort he started to make his way towards the gates of the cemetery. He didn’t want to be around when Samory thought better of his rash reaction.

 

The city, Hallie’s city, in darkness reminded him somewhat of a mix between Chicago and New Orleans. He gathered that Hallie didn’t have a firm setting in mind. Now as he wandered amidst a largely abandoned urban area he wished he’d read the book more carefully, or at least once through. At least then maybe he would have a sense of where everything, or anything, was located. It was chilly and foggy and his stomach ached with hunger. Now there was a sensation he hadn’t felt for some time. He spotted the coffee shop across the dimly lit street. Actually, it was the only building around that looked marginally active.

What was it he’d read about that coffee shop? There was some waitress that Samory was giving the eye. Well with luck he could grab a bite to eat and get out before the old boy made an appearance. With luck he grimaced, was that possible in this universe? He stepped onto the street that was artistically lined on the edge with cobbled brick. As he made his way to the entrance he felt a coolness touch his skin and haziness in his vision as though he had just passed through a patch of fog. More atmosphere on Hallie’s part, he concluded rather dismally.

He swung the glass double-door entranceway of The Coffee Pot open. This he suspected was the greasy spoon that for some reason Hallie had made pivotal in her first novel. Overcome by the pressing demands of physical life he’d forgotten for a moment the whole reason for his fantastical journey – to collect information. He was here to find a way to resist the presence intent on dominating Hallie’s existence. He sat down at a very small table situated near the window so that he could strategically mark anyone’s approach.

He hadn’t thought to feel his pockets to see if he’d been supplied with any currency in this existence. It didn’t much matter at this moment. He planned to make a run for it sooner or later anyway. He strummed his fingers on the flimsy metal table wondering distractedly how Hallie was doing back in Virginia.

It was novel being here, having a conventional body back, but there was also an oppressiveness to it. The atmosphere of everything he saw and touched was laced with a depressive heaviness. No happy, light-hearted inhabitants around here.

More than anything he wished that he were back with Hallie now, even just as a spirit. But he couldn’t return empty-handed. He had to accomplish something while he was here, even just a little something.


What can I get you sir?” He looked up, startled, into a pair of enormously green eyes. Distracted by his own thoughts, he’d forgotten for a moment to keep watch. Oh yeah, this must be Samory’s serving wench, what was her name? The big name tag glared back at him in bold letters – “Madeline.”

The sharply boned face frowned at him, “I got customers, do you want to order?” He smiled, her accent was clipped somehow almost Bronx-like. So far there was a mix of New York, Chicago, and New Orleans – must be all of Hallie’s favorite cities.

After all, anything was possible in fiction. “Look mister, Sal doesn’t cater to loiterers. Either order or hit the road.” He could certainly see why Samory was drawn to her. Evidently, he liked a woman with a bad attitude.


I haven’t seen a menu.”


Sal,” she yelled toward the kitchen. “This one needs a menu.”

And then he heard a disembodied voice boom back, “Well, why don’t he go to the tea room down the street?”

She turned back to him with a very sour expression, “Sal said. . .”


Yeah,” he interrupted, “I heard. Well how about a cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake.” He might as well indulge.

She scribbled it down, and then placed one hand strategically on her hip to indicate a mix of femininity and authority. He’d recognized the confrontational stance. He’d seen it with plenty of business associates and other female acquaintances.


It will just be a few,” she quipped and then was gone.

He watched as she disappeared into the swinging doors that evidently led into Sal’s domain. She was a strange creature. She acted like a stereotypical waitress, but there was an odd feeling, something out of place. Maybe it was as Samory had described – her predatory eyes. Or maybe the gloominess of the atmosphere was causing him to suspect everything, and everyone.

He leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair and closed his eyes for a minute. He was tired, unbelievably tired. This little jaunt of his was sapping quite a bit of energy out of him.

He thought about Hallie, her smile, her laugh, what it was like to kiss her.

The front doors of the coffee shop swung open. Damn it, he had to stay focused. At this rate he was going to have everyone sneak up on him. He braced himself for a confrontation with Samory, but it wasn’t Samory who crossed the threshold. The face that greeted him was not unfamiliar nor was it welcome.

Edward, Hallie’s Edward, stepped into the coffee shop, dressed to the tee in a navy blue business suit with briefcase in hand. His eyes swept through the room, and then he focused on Jack and looked to him with anticipation.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Edward’s eyes continued to stare at him wide with expectancy, although the rest of his pallid face remained unanimated. Then again, Jack had reason to believe that this was the status quo for this fellow. Jack looked all around even behind him hoping that Edward’s attention was focused elsewhere.

But as was his luck, and or lack of in this universe, he was the target.

He stopped in front of Jack’s rickety two-seater, metal table. Edward stretched out a long pale hand toward him. “I believe you’ve been expecting me.”

His eyes widened. He really wished he’d taken more time with that book. Caught in confusion as to how to respond, Jack returned Edward’s flaccid grip, “Uh no, not really.”

The hand was withdrawn. “Then, you aren’t Mr. Samory Delacroix.”

Jack frowned. Evidently his nemesis was expected here tonight. “No, ‘fraid not.”

Edward’s thin lips turned down in a perturbed expression that Jack had seen more than once in their limited acquaintance. “I see.”

Jack nodded but Edward wasn’t taking the hint. He just stood there dumbly in front of him. “We had an appointment.”

Jack nodded again, “Well, he’s not here.” Apparently, Hallie hadn’t made Edward’s character too swift. No big surprise there, given their history.

Again, Edward muttered, “I see.”

Jack glanced back toward the kitchen. Where was Madeline with his cheeseburger? Edward looked down in befuddlement at his watch. “I suppose I might be a little early.

Perhaps I should wait.”

Jack shrugged at him. Something was odd here. It was almost as if his presence here in Hallie’s book had thrown the other characters off. Edward looked at him pointedly. “What do you think? Should I wait?”

Jack considered carefully. He hadn’t read far enough in the novel to absorb the details of the plot much less Edward’s presence here. But knowing Hallie’s feelings toward her ex-husband at that point of her life in which she penned the novel; and the fact that he was meeting Samory, in Jack’s estimation, all of this boded ill fortune for the scrawny ex-husband. The tantalizing enigma was did he buy Edward a little extra time or throw him into the clutches of. . .”Yeah sure, why don’t you wait.”

Edward nodded, “Ah, well do you mind if I join you?”

By the time Jack opened his mouth to reply, the squirrelly guy was sitting at the tiny table across from him. Pushy fellow, again he wondered what Hallie could have seen in him. “My name is Lester Canon, I’m an attorney.” Lester, nice name Hallie.

Evidently she didn’t hold attorneys in very high regard, but then again he thought indulgently, she wrote this long before they’d met.


Oh.” He tried hard not to encourage too much conversation. “I, um, didn’t catch your name sir.”

By then Madeline had noiselessly sauntered up to their table, “What will you have sir?” Edward or rather Lester’s eyes got markedly round at her intrusion. Jack was beginning to think this was his only mode of expression.


Better order Lester. She’ll kick your ass if you don’t.”

Madeline’s eyes turned on him with a smoldering expression that he couldn’t quite pinpoint – some mixture of admiration and animosity.

Lester stammered out, “How about a cup of coffee?”

She smiled with no expression. “How about it?” And then she turned to Jack, “Your burger will be right up.” Again, she was gone.

Lester’s nose twitched a bit. “Abrasive isn’t she?”

Jack glanced out the front window of the coffee shop. No sign of Samory yet. But then the fellow could approach quietly in a patch of fog, or as a bat or a dog, no wolf. He wasn’t too sharp on his vampire lore. Maybe he could still eat and get out before he arrived. But then he’d miss the events unfold with Lester here, hmm quite a dilemma. “So Lester, what exactly are you meeting Samory about?”


Samory, then you know Mr. Delacroix?”

Oops, “Just vaguely.”


Ahh. He contacted me about handling some of his business affairs but strangely enough he insisted on meeting me only after dusk and here in this coffee shop rather than in my office.” He fidgeted a bit in the metal chair. Jack wondered distantly if he should be feeling sorry for the guy.


So that’s unusual?” Good grief this was awkward. “For someone to have such requirements?”

Again an Edward/Lester frown, “A bit.”


So, why did you accept?”


I need the money.”


Well that’s valid.” He commented, and then allowed the confused silence to envelope them.

Madeline arrived at their side with a tray of food. Jack for the first time noticed that he and Lester were the only ones left in the restaurant. Apparently, the other customers had slipped out or just plain disappeared when he wasn’t paying attention again. She put the coffee cup down in front of Lester. “You want cream or sugar with that?”


No, I take it black.” Of course he did. He wouldn’t want it to taste like anything.


And here’s your cheeseburger and milkshake.” She put the steaming plate and frosty glass down in front of Jack. He had to admit that regardless of where he was, this looked good. And then he noticed Lester across from him wrinkling his nose in distaste.


Do you have any idea the damage that meal could do to your arteries?”


Well Lester, I think I’ll take my chances.” He was beginning to wish Samory would hurry up and come and deal with this fellow so he could eat in peace.


Anything else for you gentlemen?” Hand on the hip again and huge green eyes surveying them critically.


No that’ll do,” Jack smiled at her with little impact.


Okay, because I’ll be taking a break over there,” she indicated a booth in the corner, “and having a cigarette.”

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