A Guilty Ghost Surprised (An Indigo Eady Paranormal Cozy Mystery series) (20 page)

Mrs. Cuttle stood glowing and smiling. Chance sat next to her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cuttle.
Truly.
I know this meant a lot to you,” said Simon.

She beamed, then turned and glided away, as if up a long, winding staircase. Chance traipsed after her. 

Chapter Nineteen

Simon

One final item of business remained to shut the door on Simon’s closure. He wanted to see the car that his mother and brother died in. The one he almost died in. And he wanted me and Badger to go with him.

Sunday morning dawned quietly, except for the television running in the background. Franny sat on the sofa with Bryan’s head in her lap, both watching a jungle movie. Bryan sucked his thumb and twirled his hair with his other hand. Watchers still floated in and out of the room.

I shook my head. We solved the murder, but Bryan was still there. I tried to explain to him that we found the lady who crashed into them, but he didn’t seem to care.

About midmorning, I invited Franny to my room to help me choose an outfit. “What should I wear?” I went through my trunk and laid items of clothing on the bed. “Should I wear black in honor of the solemn moment? Or color, in honor of hope?”

“I see what you mean, dear.” She dug through the trunk and threw items onto the bed. “If you’d only unpack you’d have an easier time finding something. Although I admit, you don’t have much anyway.” She shook her head and tsked.

Franny floated around the bed, matching up potential outfits to wear. Three possibles.

“No dress or skirt,” I said. “We’re going to the junkyard.”

“Then how about these, uh, black
gingers
,” she said. “With this?” She held up a long-sleeved black shirt with pastel-colored butterflies.

“Perfect, I think. And those,” I said pointing to the black pants, “are
jeans
not
gingers
.”

“Now for hair,” she said. “You cannot wear a braid today. How about a French knot?”

Leaving the house an hour later, we walked down Quixley Street on the way to meet Badger. Glancing up at the window out of habit, all was still.

Stopping by for Badger, we walked to the bus stop. Cappy stood with Riley under the awning.

“Thought I’d come along,” said Cappy.

“Thanks, mate,” said Simon, shaking his hand.

“Me, too.” Riley hugged him.

We were quiet in honor of the occasion.

The five of us rode the bus to Hampton’s Recycling Yard. I called ahead to inquire about the totaled 2000 white Ford Escort and explained why we wanted to see it. Hank, the owner, told me where to find it. He kept totaled vehicles near the rear of the yard for spare parts.

We made our way slowly down the aisle of scrapped cars as directed and located the Escort.

“Here it is,” said Simon, unnecessarily, as the mangled blob drew our eyes.

We gathered close together and stared. Nobody spoke.

Simon dug his hands into his pockets and stood hunched. Tears trickled slowly down his cheeks. He brushed them away with the back of his hand and sniffed. I started to put my arm around his shoulder, but Riley quickly took his hand and gripped it between both of hers.  Badger didn’t seem to mind. Comforting him was natural when he endured such pain. Comfort between friends.

After a few minutes, we slowly circled the car, taking in the damage, peeking in the windows.

In the back seat I glimpsed a furry item.
Bryan’s teddy bear!
I reached through the broken glass to retrieve it…

The road is dark and wet. Fog envelopes the scene. The road is poor and full of potholes. Headlights approach, crunching explodes into the quiet night, like the colliding of worlds. The only sound is hissing as water escapes the radiator. Footsteps approach the white car. Footsteps run away—squealing tires leave the scene.

Another set of headlights approach. A metallic grind rips through the night. The white car lay on its side. Two wheels spin and squeak in the air. Footsteps come forward, then quickly retreat. Once again, screeching tires race away from the scene.

“Indigo! Indigo, wake up. Please wake up!” Simon’s voice pleaded with me.
Why was he awake before me? That never happened
. I opened my eyes to a spinning world and lying flat on my back in the gravel. I ached all over and nausea rumbled in my stomach.

“Sick,” I said weakly, then turned my head aside and puked. Unfortunately, somebody’s shoes were in the way. I looked up through blurry eyes to a vague outline of someone short, with dark eyes and dark hair—minus the usual grin. “Cappy.”

A crinkled napkin attached to a hand wiped my face. I squinted. “Simon.”

“Can you sit up?” asked another voice – Riley’s voice.

Concerned faces loomed above me.

“What happened?” Disoriented and confused, I struggled to remember where I was and what had happened and why I laid on the ground with needle-sharp gravel poking a tattoo into my backside.

Simon pressed the napkin into my hand and with Badger’s help, pushed and pulled me into an upright position. My hands stung and ached. Squinting at my palms, they glowed bright red and started to blister, along with some bleeding cuts from the broken glass.

Crap!
Psychometry gone wrong.
Again
. Or right, depending on how you looked at it.

“Blimey,” Cappy breathed out. “What the ‘ell is that?”

“Burned,” said Simon, “from the car. That
psycho
thing she does.”

“Psychometry,” I mumbled, glaring up at him.

“Come on, let’s get her up,” said Badger. “How are you feeling now?”

“Fantastic. Thanks for asking,” I said sarcastically. I stood, albeit a little wobbly.

“Maybe you should lean against the car until you feel better,” said Cappy.

“No!” I said in a panic. And then more calmly, “N-no. Not a good idea.” I held my hands up. “I have no desire for this to cover my body.”

“Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’,” said Cappy. “Uh, do ya think I could borrow that napkin?” I followed his glance to his shoes, covered in chunks of my breakfast.

“Sure,” I said, handing him the napkin. “Sorry about that. I, uh, don’t have much control when this thing happens.”

Badger snorted. “Yeah, trust me. You’ve just been initiated into the club.”

I tried to glare, but it hurt too much.

“Let’s get her out of here,” said Simon.

With Simon and Badger on either side of me, we started away, followed by Cappy and Riley.

“Wait!” I said. “In the back seat – Bryan’s teddy bear.” After all that, I may as well get what I had been going after in the first place.

Cappy reached through the broken back window and retrieved it, zipping it inside his jacket.

We arrived back at the Blind Badger without any further mishaps, sneaking in through the back. I ran my hands under cold water in the bathroom. Badger went for the first aid kit.

“Let me see,” said Riley, when I joined them in the snug. She turned my palms face up. Angry red cuts and blisters. She gasped, then muttered, “Bloody hell.”

“Here, let’s put some of this on.” Badger gently dabbed burn cream on my palms while I held my breath against the pain. Then he wrapped both hands gently in gauze.

“You’re really pale,” said Riley. “It must be so painful.”

Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden. I prayed I wouldn’t start bawling. I managed a nod and a weak smile.  

“Here, take these.” Badger handed me two paracetamol and a glass of water.

I fumbled the aspirins onto my fingertips and managed to get them down. I shivered, more from shock than the cold, but Cappy noticed and built a fire.

“I’ll get food,” said Riley, leaving the snug, “and coffee,” she yelled back over her shoulder.

I sat shaking while Badger and Simon watched in concern.

“Maybe we should take her to the hospital,” suggested Badger.

I shook my head. “N-no. I’ll b-be okay.”

He looked at me skeptically.

“H-how would I explain it? The s-scars? T-they’ll think I’m a c-cutter or b-burner or ab-bused.”

He sighed in frustration.

Yeah. That’s what it’s like to me be
.

Riley came back five minutes later with a plate of burgers and chips. Having rid myself of breakfast earlier, I scarfed it down. Of course, the burgers were a treat for us all.

I felt much better after eating and the gang waited anxiously to hear about my ‘psycho’ thing.

“I saw the teddy bear in the back seat. Bryan’s teddy bear.” I turned to Simon. “I think that’s why Bryan is here. He showed up on the third anniversary of his death because he wants his teddy bear.”

“Yeah, but why now?” asked Simon. “Why three years later?”

“I
think,
that time is different there. Not so long, you know? Three years to him might be like three days or three hours.”

He sat quietly for a minute, thinking about the possibility of difference in time between dimensions.

“Yeah, I think you may be right.” Simon picked up the teddy bear next to him. “And somehow, the anniversary triggered his memory of the bear.”

I nodded.

“That’s amazing,” said Riley. “There’s so much more to this world than we realize.”

 “That’s not all,” I said. “I touched the car when I bent in for the bear and had a vision. That’s how this happened.” I held up my hands. “The violence involved in the accident burned my hands. But here’s the thing…”

They leaned in to hear.

“More than one vehicle was involved.”

“Do you mean they were ‘it by more than one car?” asked Cappy.

“Yes. But, I couldn’t see the color or kind of vehicles being driven.”

I explained that both cars stopped, the drivers looked inside Amanda’s car, and then took off.

“Blimey,” said Simon. “This complicates things a bit.”

“At least we know that one of the cars belonged to Mrs. Cuttle,” said Badger.

“But the question is,” said Cappy, “was she the first car or the second one?”

I understood what Cappy implied at once. If someone else hit Simon’s car first, then Aunt Amanda and Bryan may already have been dead when Mrs. Cuttle hit them. She said they were dead, but she couldn’t get a good look at Simon. Or, she could have been the one to finish them off if they weren’t already dead.

I voiced the implication out loud. “So Mrs. Cuttle may or may not have been driving the car that killed them.”

“Or,” said Simon, “she may have hit our car because it blocked the road after being hit by the first car. She couldn’t see well in the first place, and that, combined with the dark and alcohol…”

“Even if she hadn’t been drinking and half blind, she probably would have hit the car anyway,” I added.

“It would ‘ave been unavoidable,” added Cappy.

I sighed. “So how do we figure this out?”

“There’s still the paint chip forensics,” said Riley. “Any idea when we’ll get the results?”

Simon shook his head. “No. Soon, though.”

I lifted my coffee mug to my lips with both hands. Painful, but do-able. Adrenaline kept me going for several hours, but after divulging all my information and throwing around possible ideas, I drained like an over-used battery. “I can’t think any more today,” I said. “Let’s meet tomorrow and figure out the next step.” I looked over at Simon. “After you’ve called your friend in forensics to get an idea of when to expect the test results.”

“Good idea. Come on,” he said, pulling me up by the arms. “Let’s get you home. And pray for a quiet night.”

“Yes,” I sighed. “Please do pray for a quiet night,” I said to the others. “All I need is a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep and some quality time with my pillow.”

As we readied to leave, someone’s cell phone pinged into the room. Since all my friends were there in the snug, I knew it couldn’t be mine. I watched while the others scrambled to check their text messages.

“It’s mine,” said Simon. He tapped the screen. “It’s from Kelli, my friend from the lab.” He looked pointedly at Riley, as if tired of secrets and he wanted her to know his friend’s name.