Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (110 page)

It was.

“But seriously, it’s true?” he said again.

“It’s true. My life completely changed after that day. And part of it includes seeing the dead.”

I finished the last of my hamburger, surprised at how relaxed I felt after spilling everything. I was either getting better at telling people or Derek was still a really good friend, just like in the old days, even after all this time.

“So you see killers? That’s gotta be beyond creepy.”

“It is,” I said. “The killers are usually in the visions. Most of the ghosts that I see are victims. They usually need some sort of help.”

“Murder victims?”

“Yeah. Most of the time. It’s hard and sad, finding out what happened to them. I’m still learning. Some days I get the feeling I’ll always be learning. But more and more, I feel like maybe it’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Like this is my place in the world. Or, in between worlds.”

Another cold breeze blew into me. I shivered again and noticed that Derek did as well, even with that sweater. The ghost dog began barking loudly.

“Did you feel that?” he said. “It’s like the temperature just dropped 20 degrees for a moment. But now it’s fine again.”

“Maybe it was just the subject matter,” I said, smiling.

But I looked around again. It was like something had made its way over to us, and then retreated. I didn’t know what it was. I saw a couple of ghosts wandering around the pub, but they were keeping their distance and neither of them was trying to get my attention.

“So do you solve cold cases and things like that?” he asked.

“Yeah, sometimes. And sometimes I’m lucky enough to save someone. That’s what happened at Christmas. There was a woman who was in trouble, and a ghost was trying to warn her.”

“You gotta give me more than that,” he said.

I gave him a quick summary of how the woman’s spirit and Ty had helped me stop that college professor from killing again.

Maybe it was because Derek now lived in Hollywood, but he not only seemed to accept that I saw ghosts, but was all about it. It seemed as normal to him as if I had just told him that I played soccer on Sunday afternoons or watched cooking shows at night. It was refreshing.

“I hope you let me pick your brain sometime,” he said. “You could help out with my plot. Maybe that’s why we ran into each other. It was destiny. There’s a ghost out there trying to get you to tell me about his story so I can incorporate it into my novel.”

“Maybe so,” I said, thinking it was something other than fate.

He looked around the restaurant.

“Can you see any ghosts right now?” he asked. “Here, I mean?”

There it was. Another opportunity presenting itself.

***

I glanced around the tables and over at the bar. I told him about the young guy standing next to the woman wearing the black dress at the far end of the restaurant and about the old woman following one of the waiters around.

And then I mentioned the dog that was sitting right outside our window. 

“He’s been following you,” I said. “I mean, since you got into town.”

Derek’s cheeks turned a shade darker and I could almost hear his heart beat quickening. He slowly turned and looked outside.

“What?” he said. “What do you mean?”

“I first saw the dog that day you came into the café,” I said. “And he’s been by my house a few times since, usually barking or growling outside my window. That’s why I called you last night. I just figured you were in trouble or something. And now he’s here.”

“Jesus, Abby, that’s crazy. Is this payback for those ghost stories I used to tell in class or something? Because, I mean, my whole body just turned into one giant goose bump when you said that. What’s he doing now?”

“Just sitting there, like he’s listening to our conversation.”

“What does it look like?” he asked. “What kind of dog is it?”

Derek’s energy was quick again and I realized he was a little scared.

“Well, I’m not an expert on dogs, but my guess is that he’s a huskie, maybe part wolf, with those eyes that don’t match. Of course, I can’t tell you what color he is, but it’s a mix of light and dark. And he’s really beautiful and muscular, like he could pull a sled on the Iditarod.”

Derek looked out the window.

“And you see him sitting right out there on the sidewalk,” he said. “Where those people are walking?”

“Yeah, he’s right in front of them. They don’t see him, but they sense he’s there. See how they moved over a little as they walked by him? They pick up on his energy, even if they don’t consciously realize it.”

“That’s amazing.”

“So what’s his name?” I asked.

But Derek shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he said. “He’s not mine. I’ve never had a dog. You knew my dad. He never even let me have a hamster. I think that dog’s barking up the wrong tree. Maybe it had Alzheimer's. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that this has anything to do with me.”

I was pretty sure from reading his energy that he was telling the truth. But it didn’t make any sense. And it didn’t leave me feeling like I was getting any closer to solving this mystery.

Just the opposite.

CHAPTER 21

I insisted on driving him home. By the time we had left downtown, Derek had had quite a few drinks, including several shots of Bombay Sapphire when we stopped in at Velvet on the way back to our cars. I had the one beer before dinner, sticking to Cokes and water the rest of the night.

At first he argued, even as he stumbled along at my side, saying he was fine to drive. But I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I had a morning shift at Back Street and told him I would swing by and pick him up on my break and bring him back to the café to get his car. He eventually agreed.

I turned on the heater in the Jeep and we sat for a moment as I sent Kate a text.

“Who are you talking to?” Derek said.

He sounded like his tongue was numb.

“My sister. I’m just letting her know that I’m on my way home.”

“Kate? Oh, my God. Tell her I still love her!”

I laughed, remembering Derek’s house-size crush on Kate, and how he always found reasons to stop by when she was home.

“I’ll tell her,” I said.

He slumped down low in the seat as I pulled out of the parking lot and took a right down 14
^th
. There were only a few cars out on the street. I cut up Galveston and through the roundabout and then beyond. Skyliners Road was west of town, and Derek’s house was a few more miles down that road. As we drove through the darkness, the houses fewer and farther in between, it felt like we were the last people on earth.

I hoped we weren’t lost. But Derek, while far from sober, was still able to recognize his driveway. I pulled off onto the long path that took us up to a large house. It was too dark to tell for sure, but I had the feeling it was quite beautiful, nestled in the pines.

We said goodbye. Derek jumped out and lost his balance, but he managed to catch himself at the last minute.

“Wait for me,” I said. “I’ll help you in.”

He laughed.

“Nonsense. You stay right there and I’ll stay right here. I know how to do this. I’ve had lots and lots of practice.”

I watched him stumble to the door.

“See you at about eleven tomorrow morning,” I said. “I’ll call when I’m on my way.”

He blew me a kiss, missing his lips, and disappeared inside the house.

I smiled.

“Bye, Derek,” I whispered.

I sat there thinking for a minute. Some people drank a lot. David for one. It didn’t mean they were all alcoholics. Sometimes it was just a phase.

“Hey!” Derek shouted, back in the doorway. “Do you ever see him? Do you ever see Jesse?”

I paused for a moment.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Every once in a while.”

“That’s good,” Derek said, smiling and stepping back. “You guys always did belong together.”

CHAPTER 22

When I got to Back Street in the morning, I saw right away that Derek’s BMW was gone. I hoped that Mike hadn’t had it towed. Sometimes he got frustrated when people parked there overnight and didn’t move their cars by the time we opened. But when I checked my phone on the way inside, I saw that Derek had sent me a text letting me know that he had picked it up earlier.

I was surprised. I figured after last night, he would still be sleeping.

Work was uneventful. Lyle and Ellen argued about the best techniques for making biscuits and then about who was the best jazz piano player of all time.

As I made what felt like my hundredth cappuccino of the morning my mind drifted back to those days by the river when we were kids. It was fun talking to Derek about them and remembering our trip to Tumalo Falls. I hadn’t thought about any of it in a long time.

The three of us had our whole lives ahead of us back then. But the thought didn’t leave me feeling sad. Almost the opposite. It was a memory of a time still untouched by fate. It was safe. It always would be.

I was also happy that there had been no late night howling sessions in the backyard. Maybe the dog was satisfied and my part in it was done. Maybe Derek was right about the dog. Maybe he was just confused.

But as my shift dragged on, my mood darkened. I started thinking about what might have been. If the car hadn’t gone off the road. If he hadn’t been going so fast. If Jesse hadn’t… If, if, if. I was back there again. Back at the intersection of my life. The place where the past met the future and killed it. At least a version of it. Any version that involved Jesse anyway.

After work I headed over to the gym. I needed to run it out of me, this feeling.

I joined a gym in the Northwest Crossing neighborhood last month after I had slipped on some ice at the track. I was well on my way to a PR until the ground fell away and I tumbled down hard, my face inches from the frozen pavement. Fortunately, my injuries weren’t too serious, just a few bruises. But it was enough of a warning to make me realize that I needed another plan for keeping in shape during the winter. The plan was to be ready for soccer, not in a body cast.

Ty wanted me to join his gym, but it was one of those places where body builders congregated and stared at themselves in mirrors all day. He was friends with a lot of them, but there was no way I was going to go there. So I checked out High Desert Fitness and talked Kate into signing up so we could get the two-for-one special. It was a perfect location for both of us, not too far from either Back Street or the newspaper. There was no initiation fee and we decided on a month-to-month contract, which worked out because once the weather got warmer, I planned on running outside again.

I didn’t think I would be a gym type of person, but so far, I liked it.

I figured out the best times to go so I could avoid the crowds. Plus, it was always open. I had visions of putting my insomnia to good use. I found that I liked being by myself on a treadmill, watching the sun come up. I could listen to Kings of Leon and push myself without worrying about falling, unless I flew off the back of the machine. I could shake free from some of those dark thoughts that had settled in my head during my sleepless nights.

I walked through the doors, the sun glaring through the tall windows and lighting everything up. It was early afternoon and there were a lot of people, but all I needed was one treadmill. I knew that most of the exercise machines were taken by moms. They would be leaving soon to pick up their kids from school.

I warmed up on an elliptical and after a few minutes a treadmill opened up. I made a bee line for it, smiling back at a woman who was working out with weights. I got going, starting slow and picking up speed after the first couple of miles. I was planning on doing seven, pushing myself hard for the middle three. But I was still feeling strong when I finished those, so I bumped my goal up to 10 miles.

My mind wandered to soccer.

I thought about my favorite soccer team, FC Barcelona. They had fallen on hard times lately. They had been lifeless in two especially painful defeats to Real Madrid, their hated rivals. They had also lost the first leg against AC Milan in the Champions League, so their backs were really up against the wall.

It was painful to watch such a great team struggle. It wasn’t who they were. They missed easy passes, barely created scoring chances, and were shaky on defense. Messi wasn’t getting any shots, Xavi was flat or injured, the great Iniesta was a ghost of himself, and Pique seemed out of it, like he was up all night changing diapers and letting Shakira sleep.

I knew it was all about faith at times like these. I had to believe that they would turn it around.

After a while my thoughts returned to Dr. Mortimer. About him coming back to Bend, and Kate. She seemed really happy with Evan, but was still busy sending out résumés to newspapers around the country.

It made me kind of sad, thinking about that. I knew she had to go. I wanted her to and had told her as much. Her life was out there somewhere. Still…

I had a habit of holding tight to the things that I couldn’t keep. I reminded myself that life was about change and movement. It was something that I had learned early, but I still had trouble with it. Kate needed to get to that big job in a big city, just like David needed to chase his dream. Instead of holding on so tight, I needed to just make sure I kept them close in my heart, regardless of how many miles were between us.

Sweat poured off my face and I wiped at it with a towel. At mile eight I decided to go hard again. I still had something in the tank. I skipped ahead on my playlist and found Eminem and turned up the volume.

I slowed down to a jog for the last half mile, catching my breath. I hopped off the treadmill and chugged down some Powerade. Then I went over and got the disinfectant and some paper towels to wipe down the machine.

I went in to the bathroom and washed my hands. I almost laughed when I looked in the mirror. My mascara had smeared, forming dark circles around my eyes.