The Flip (16 page)

“It’s a nuthouse,” Julie said, seeing the house she loved in a new light.

Brad stayed true to his word. He tucked Julie in their air mattress and dimmed the lights. She watched him light a fire in the fireplace, taking comfort in the smell of the burning wood. She watched his strong face, limned by the amber glow of the blaze, his eyes narrowed as he tended
the fire. The wood popped, sending sparks to light up the dim room like fireflies.

Brad padded back, his jeans slung low, his shirt unbuttoned. She watched the play of muscle and bone, his shirt taut as it pulled across his shoulder blades while he worked. He threw a bedroll next to her and then reclined on it.

“Go to sleep.” He reached over to brush the hair out of her eyes. “I told you I will watch over you,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to do this.” Julie patted the bed next to her. “Come to bed.”

“You’re not scared anymore?”

“I’m terrified, but it’s not fair.”

“Don’t worry about fairness. I want you to rest. Tomorrow, maybe this person, what’s her name—”

“Georgia,” Julie supplied.

“Georgia will bring your mind some ease. I promise you, Jules, I will be here all night. You are safe. Safe as houses.”

“Safe as houses?”

“Just some stupid homily my mom used to say when I was a kid,” he told her with a gentle smile.

Julie’s eyes drifted shut. She was exhausted. Brad lay back, watching both his wife and the fire, content and strangely at peace for the first time in the house.

Tessa’s vaporous form flitted around the room. She dashed from one corner to the other. Gerald watched from above the fireplace. The human didn’t notice her. Tessa got braver. She flew in front of him, disturbing the air enough for Brad to wave his hand as though an insect were bothering him.

“You’re getting nowhere, Tessa. He doesn’t see you,” Gerald said softly.

“I had her gone.” She faced Gerald, her visage contorted with anger. “I scared the woman off.”

“Why, Tessa? Why are you doing this? Didn’t last night mean something to you?”

Tessa landed next to Brad, running her
ghostly fingers down his spine, her face sublime. “You thought that was enough for me? You expected me to run off with you to some dismal eternal place and be satisfied? I used you both. I may be done with you, but I’m not finished with him!” She laughed, her face twisted, turning an ugly shade of magenta.

Gerald looked at her, seeing Tessa for who she really was. He stood. “I’ve wasted both my life and whatever this is to wait for you, Tessa. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.”

“So leave,” she told him. “Nothing is stopping you. The Sentinels won’t prevent
you
from leaving.” She dismissed him to wrap her arms around Brad. Whispering into his ear, she watched her prey sit up, his eyes keenly aware of
his surroundings. He brushed his hair back, effectively pushing off her embrace. Tessa withdrew to a spot over the mantel, a pout marring her once-pretty face. She hadn’t realized that Gerald was gone.

The Sentinels watched the scene unfold from above.

“So this is where it ends?” Marum asked incredulously. “After all this time, you’re letting Gerald leave without her?”

“It will all come together again tomorrow,” Sten told her with confidence. “Just watch.” He motioned to Brad. “All roads lead to tomorrow.”

Brad sat up, alert to a subtle change in the air. Carefully, he stood, peering through the
darkness, and walked slowly to the simmering air. He leaned closer, his brain telling him it was a mirage or a reflection from the fire. The air was dazzling, sparkling with a luminescence as if lightning bugs were dancing in the room, synchronized, with bursts of color. He stopped, shell-shocked, as the light outlined a voluptuous woman, her body eerily familiar. The face took shape—a strong chin, determined and proud, with a long, aristocratic nose.

Tessa smiled seductively, preening when she realized the man was frozen in his tracks. She began to dance, dropping her creamy shoulders enough so that her décolletage slipped, revealing her ample charms. She lifted her draping skirts, showing off her long legs, the garters tied just
above her knees. The little black bows teased every male she showed them to.
Hah
, she laughed,
let humans think they can mesmerize men with a stupid dance on a pole
. She was a master at this; she could capture him with one hand tied behind her back. She swayed closer, her ghostly skirts brushing against him. His eyes were wide, glued to the apparition, his mouth open just a bit. Tessa caressed his startled face, putting her mouth lightly over his.

“Just a taste,” she told him coquettishly. “Just a tease to show you the delights to come.”

Clouds of red-gold hair framed the alabaster face, fanning away as if a breeze wafted before her. She gyrated her hips invitingly, smiling at Brad. She was beautiful, overblown in
a Jessica Rabbit kind of way. Brad watched her, mirth bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. He turned to Julie, humor warring with disbelief.

“Oh, honey,” he told his sleeping wife. “This is what scared you. She can’t hold a candle to you.” He bellowed with laughter.

Tessa’s smiled faded; she whimpered and then hissed in disbelief. She turned to look for Gerald. She needed a devoted audience. “Gerald,” she called. “Gerald, he’s mocking me.”

She spun to empty air. The human walked closer, curious but clearly unafraid. The worst part was that he was unaffected by her flirtation. She looked for Gerald. Gerald would make her feel needed. He would make this one realize what
he was missing with that skinny scarecrow of a wife. Tessa levitated, screaming for Gerald. If she had a heart, it would beat faster, she knew. The man made her nervous. He wasn’t afraid of her—what next? Could he have the power to hurt her like the Sentinels? She needed protection, she needed to feel safe, she needed—Gerald, she realized with a start. She wanted Gerald. She touched the region over her heart, feeling a vast loneliness there. An ache as big as a mountain lodged in the cavity of her chest, making Tessa’s arms long to hold him. She flew around the room, searching for Gerald’s easy company, his companionship. All those years, she never understood. All those years, and she thought sex was love, lust fulfilling. Her eyes opened wide with the wonder and then the pain.

“Gerald!” She poured all her grief into his name. “Gerald, I never knew it was you, all along. Please, please come back.”

Silence stretched before her, like the punishment void. A life of watching other people live their lives, while she observed their joys and even heartaches with no one to turn for company, to share that moment in time.

Fury unlike any she’d never known, the anger of all her hurt and fear, turned Tessa white with misery. She flew around the room, the speed growing, while she howled in horror at her empty future. She turned on Brad, livid that his lack of fear had brought her to this. She used all her energy to punish. There was no one to check her wild impulses. She roared with the voice of a
thousand demons. It erupted in the room, the breath of hell from her open mouth. Brad recoiled. Her twisted face was covered with open sores, the gaping maw that was once pouting lips now a mass of rotten teeth. She opened wide in a wordless scream; a swarm of hornets erupted, changing her face into a grinning skull.

A noise escaped from Brad. His only thoughts were to protect his wife. He raced to the corner of the room and grabbed the machete, swiping it through the onslaught of insects. They parted, surging upward, surrounding the woman and encompassing her so that soon her image was obliterated. There was a flash of light, and the room was empty but for Brad and his wife, his breathing harsh in his ears.

Wide-eyed, he searched the room, tentatively touching the fireplace mantel, his fingers finding the hacked body of a wasp. He shook it out of his hand, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. Brad backed away to the mattress. Julie had slept through the whole thing. Easing down, he sat straighter, his diligent eyes watching, the machete in his capable hands.

“He thinks he’s the one who got rid of the wasps,” Marum stated with a laugh.

“He doesn’t know what to believe,” Sten responded.

“Where is Tessa? Did you lock her up?”

“There is no reason. Gerald has left; she is alone. Tomorrow she will be attacked. Our plans
will finally be fulfilled.”

“It’s been too long.” Marum sighed.

“It is the way of this world. You can’t rush them, and they have to think it is all free will.”

“It just seems silly.”

“It’s the only way they learn. What do they say here? ‘You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.’”

“I like the other one better.” Marum’s silver eyes twinkled. “‘You can send a kid to college, but you can’t make him think.’”

“Hah, I hadn’t heard that one. It sounds more appropriate. They just don’t think. They are so tiresome.” Sten glanced at Tessa’s aura
spinning furiously on the banister.

Chapter 22

Sleepless nights loved her husband. Julie woke to Brad’s haggard but oh so handsome face diligently watching over her. His chin rested in the palm of his hand; he smiled back at her.

“I don’t think you’re crazy anymore,” he told her.

“Well, that’s a relief.” Julie swung her legs over the side of the mattress. She held out her arms to him and he leaned over, rolling her back to kiss her thoroughly. “Rough night?” she asked.

“You don’t know half of it.”

“You want to share?”

“I’m not even sure I believe it myself. Let’s wait for the medium. We’ll revisit the whole thing after she does what she’s supposed to do.”

“Fair enough.”

Brad made coffee while Julie showered and dressed. Sunlight streamed through the windows, the colored glass painting rainbows on the walls. Brad handed Julie her mug, and they observed the changing patterns on the parquet floor.

“Is it my imagination, or does the house seem lighter, happier?” Julie asked.

“I was just thinking the same thing. It’s quieter. There was this darkness—”

“An oppressiveness,” Julie added.

“Yep. It feels…” Brad couldn’t find words.

“Gone,” Julie finished lamely.

They heard the front door open. Julie looked at Brad, alarmed.

“I unlocked it while you were in the shower. Babe, this is Cold Spring Harbor.” He smiled, his unshaven cheek dimpled.

“Hello, Brad.” It was Sal, followed by two women. Julie recognized his girlfriend, Molly. She was a full-bodied blonde with masses of wild, overbleached hair. She had bright blue eyes and a sprayed-on tan. A hand with long bloodred fingernails reached out to take hers.

“Julie.”

“Hi, Molly.” Julie leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Nice to see you again.”

Brad stood against the wall, his long legs crossed, his arms folded over his chest, a white coffee mug in his hands. He nodded a greeting.

A short woman with a long flowing dress wandered in. She smiled a greeting, but her eyes darted around the room. Brad noticed that her hair was two-toned. The back of her head had black hair, the front a shock of white. She greeted them both but seemed distracted. They heard the sound of Willy’s heavy boots entering.

“Are we having a party?” Willy asked, taking in all the guests.

“You didn’t get the memo? You were
supposed to bring doughnuts,” Brad told him with a laugh.

“Shoot, ain’t she that lady from the TV show?”

“Yup. Georgia Oaken, this is my wife, Julie, and our partner, William Watson. I’m Brad Evans.” He held out his hand.

Georgia took it, her keen eyes studying him, and then she turned to peruse the others at length.

“What can we do to help?” he asked.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Molly informed them. “Georgia’s got to get a feel for the place. Give her a minute.” She edged close to Julie. “She’s been dying to get in here. They say
this house is a hotspot for spectral activities. Has been for years. That’s why they couldn’t sell it. Paul Russo, my selling partner, had an exclusive on this listing for years. He finally gave up on it. And he never gives up on anything.”

Molly kept talking. Julie shook her head without really listening, eyes on the medium.

Georgia walked from room to room, touching the walls, her head cocked as though she were listening. She took a pad and pencil from Molly and absently drew strange lines or circles.

Willy opened his mouth to speak, but was warned by Molly not to say anything.

Georgia circled the main hallway and closed her eyes, her face puzzled.

“There’s a woman. She’s very rooted here. A troublemaker, you know. She wants you.” She opened her bright brown eyes to settle on Brad with astonishment. “Not that I can blame her, but what’s she going to do with you? I mean, she’s dead, right? Oh, she’s trouble, all right. She’s been dead, like, forever, but she never left.”

“How she know all this?” Willy demanded nervously.

“You.” She pointed a stubby purple fingernail at Willy. “You channeled something here that nobody else felt, right?”

Willy gulped and shook his head no.

“Oh yes, you did. It scared you, but they were just reliving the end.” She turned her head
and walked over to one wall of the salon, touching the dark paneling. “Someone was secretly buried here. You wouldn’t believe it.” She turned to them. “Listen, in a palace in England, there is a corridor, you know? They say that when you walk in this hallway of the palace, you can see and hear one of Henry the Eighth’s wives screaming for him.”

“Catherine Howard,” Julie said softly. “They say she haunts the hall and relives a moment in time over and over again. King Henry refused to see her, and it is said that when she knew he was outside the room, she ran out, calling him. He ignored her and later beheaded her.”

“Right, only it’s not her ghost. It’s a
spectral memory.”

“What?” Brad asked.

“A thumbprint in time,” Georgia said.

This earned him a knowing “I told you so” look from his wife.

“So there are no ghosts here?” Brad looked doubtful, making Julie wonder what had gone on last night.

“I didn’t say that. Willy experienced a spectral memory. There is a spirit who relives his death here every so often. Something in Willy triggered it.”