Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted (2 page)

BOOK: Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted
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She was wearing her seat belt; still, she slammed against Josh.
Amazed, she straightened as Josh deftly maneuvered to keep the car
on me road.

"Josh, I'm so sorry!" she gasped, real fear starting to trickle
down her spine. She'd known that Mike could be a real jerk. She
hadn't known that he could be this insane. She stared furiously
over at the Chevy, still driving neck-and-neck with them.

The problem with small-town Pennsylvania, of course, could be
the roads. Miles and miles of them in almost total darkness, with
no one around for help.

Mike knew that. She could tell the minute she saw the grin on
his face.

Then, to her great dismay, she saw that Hunter was sitting
next to him, in the passenger's seat.

She rolled her window down. Surely, Josh's father was going to
have a fit about the car. And someone was going to wind up really
hurt.

"Stop it! You idiots!" she shouted.

"Ah, come on, you want to play with the geeks?" Mike called
back.

Wind was racing by them. Darcy was afraid her voice wouldn't
carry. "Hunter! Make him stop this, now!"

Hunter leaned forward and she saw his face. He was as white as a
ghost. "Darcy, I'm trying!"

Mike laughed and slammed the car again. Darcy heard the terrible
screech of metal against metal.

"Stop! We'll just stop, Josh," she said. "Hunter won't let Mike
hurt you. He's still sober, I can see."

Just as she finished speaking, the Chevy began to veer insanely.
She grabbed hold of her seat with a death grip as the Volvo veered
accordingly. There was a split second in which she saw Hunter
trying to seize the Chevy's steering wheel.

Then it all went out of control. The Chevy jackknifed with a
roaring vengeance against the nose of the Volvo. Then it flipped,
and rolled over and over in front of them. Josh pumped the brakes,
but simple physics sent them flying into the body of the
Chevy.

For a moment, Darcy felt the weightlessness of flight herself.
An air bag suddenly exploded in her face. She felt a thud unlike
anything she had ever known before, and the world suddenly turned
to an absurd cartoon vision as stars in a field of black velvet
swam before her eyes. Then, one by one, the stars twinkled out, and
there was nothing but an ebony darkness.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

Darcy attended Josh's funeral with blackened eyes and heavy
bruises. They told her that it was only thanks to the integrity of
Josh's Volvo that she was still alive.

Mike wouldn't be buried for another two days. Somehow,
again miraculously, Hunter had survived as well. Darcy thought that
she must still be in shock, unable to really absorb what had
happened because, as she stood by Josh's grave site, supported on
either side by her parents, she was able to look at Hunter. She
could even think that, to his credit, he'd had the balls to come
here, and that he was weeping like an infant.

The accident had been a wake-up call for the entire school, she
thought, for those who had shunned Josh for years had come. He
might well have been amused, she thought. But again, every face
showed shock and sorrow. Those who had thought themselves young and
immortal had discovered that life was fragile and death could come
at any time. Who, in their realm of experience, had ever imagined
that taunting a nerd could come to such a tragic end?

Josh's father, grave, tall, ancient, and bowed, tenderly kissed
the coffin, and laid a flower upon it. His grief seemed beyond
tears, and still, when the last words of the priest had faded into
the bizarre and beautiful blue beauty of the day, he came toward
her. He managed a gentle smile, as if her pain could be as deep as
his own, and reached for her hand. She took it, let him lead her to
the coffin, where he offered her a flower to cast upon it.

It was a strange moment, for those who had attended seemed to
want to come to him, to offer their condolences. Yet, he and Darcy
stood in their own little world, and people hesitated, then let
them be. Even Darcy's parents, loving, kind people, allowed them
that moment.

They stood in silence for the longest time. Oddly, Darcy became
aware of a bird chirping. At last, she found her voice. It was
broken and trembling, but she managed the words she wanted. "I'm so
sorry. So, so, sorry. I-I'm responsible. That can't help you any, I
know," she babbled. "But he was my friend, truly, my best
friend, always there, and oh, God, I didn't know...I...."

"Please," Josh's father said softly. "Darcy, you did
nothing wrong. It's never wrong to be a real friend. He loved
you. Not romantically, of course. You didn't love him that way,
either. But he knew you really, truly cared about him. You were a
special person to him. Incredibly so."

She looked up at the old man who seemed bowed with sorrow, and
yet so accepting. She offered him a teary, rueful smile. "Please,
you're trying to comfort me. You've lost your only child."

He looked back at her a long time. "I always knew that I would,"
he said quietly. "And still, what a fine, bright boy! The love we
shared will remain in this old heart as long as it ticks. I was
privileged to have him as long as I did. Remember this, those we
love do live forever in our hearts. You'll remember his voice. The
things he said that made you laugh. I can't explain this,
but...Josh wasn't really for this world."

"He has gone to a far better place," she whispered, wincing at
the way the words, sincerely meant, could sound so trite.

"He was different, Darcy. You must have known that."

"Smart, sweet, wonderful," she whispered.

Josh's father was still smiling. He reached into his wal-let
suddenly, producing a card. "I doubt if I'll be around the old
homestead here much anymore. Please, take this. If you ever need
help, if you ever need to just talk, call me. Come see me. You have
great folks of your own, Darcy. I know they'll help you through.
But if you're ever confused, lost...call me. Remember that I
am-was-his dad. I'll always be there for you. You were always there
for my boy." He hesitated. "And you may find that you need me.
Remember this, please, I'll always be there."

He touched her head gently, then walked away, leaving her at the
coffin. She stood there for several seconds, feeling the
breeze touch her face, noting again the unbelievable blue of
the sky. Down by the road, her parents were waiting. They would
give her all the time she needed.

She saw that Hunter, leaning on his crutches, was waiting
as well.

She didn't think that she could bear to talk to him.

She knelt down in the earth at the head of the coffin, suddenly
overwhelmed with bitterness. "Oh, Josh, I will never speak to him
again," she whispered softly, then shook her head. "God help
me!"

She closed her eyes. It seemed that Josh's voice entered her
head. "Darcy, hey, don't be so hard on Hunter. You know, he
realized that Mike was being a homicidal jerk. He tried."

The voice was so real that her eyes flew open.

The day hadn't changed. The sky was still blue, the breeze still
soft. The coffin still lay in the mechanism that would shortly
bring it deep into the ground.

Tears welled in her eyes again. She closed them tightly, and
prayed. Then she rose, kissed the coffin, and murmured.
"Josh, I will never forget you. And like your dad said, you will
always be in my heart. Always. If I live to be a hundred."

At last, she turned away. She started for the road where her
parents, and Hunter, waited.

For a moment, the hate remained. She couldn't even look at
Hunter. Then she remembered Josh's words, so real in her mind.
Don't be so hard on Hunter.

He was still crying. She managed to walk to him and place a hand
on his arm. "You tried," she said very softly.

"Oh, Darcy!" he whispered sickly.

"You tried," she repeated. "One day...one day, we can talk
again."

Amazingly, she felt better. And she knew that Hunter had tried.
She knew, too, that his leg would heal. His heart never would. He
would live with the night in which Josh and Mike had died all of
his life. And he would fight the guilt in his soul just as
long.

Her mother was waiting with outstretched arms. Her father,
too. She ran to them, and let them do all the right things they
thought that they could do.

That night, her mother gave her a sleeping pill, since she
hadn't really slept since the accident.

And it was the pill, she was convinced the following day, that
caused her strange dreams.

She was back at the cemetery. It wasn't a blue day anymore. It
wasn't exactly gray, either. It seemed that there was a cast of
silver, like a mist, over the day. Time had passed, and she walked
through the old gnarled trees, ancient graves, and newer
ones, that composed the cemetery. Josh had been buried beneath a
beautiful old oak. She walked toward it, clad in black, bearing a
bouquet of flowers.

And yet...

As she neared it, she saw a thin man standing by the old oak.
Frowning, she came closer. And it was Josh.

He looked very handsome, dressed in the dark suit,
tailored shirt, and crimson tie in which he had been buried.
His dark hair was trimmed and brushed, as it had been for the prom.
He was leaning against the tree, arms casually crossed, smiling as
she came.

For a moment, she was afraid. Only a moment.

"Josh?"

"Darcy, poor Darcy," he said softly. His rueful smile reminded
her of his father's when he had spoken to her over his son's
coffin. "Darcy, you've got to know. It's okay. Honestly, it's
okay."

"It's not okay, you're dead." She frowned, amazed to realize
that she was a little angry with him. "You knew it, Josh! You knew
you were going to die. The day that Mike threatened you...you said
that maybe you'd be dead, but he'd be dead as well. And he is!"

"I know. I'm sorry. He was a true jerk, but I didn't really hate
him."

"Josh-"

"I've got to go, Darcy. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay.
I'm really okay. And you've got to go on."

"I will, Josh, but...I never knew how much I'd miss you," she
whispered.

He touched her hair. Except that...he wasn't real, and of
course, it was just a whisper of the breeze.

"I'll always be with you, Darcy. When you need me, just think of
me. Here." He laid his palm against his heart.

"Oh, Josh!"

He was fading. Into the silver color of the day. Of course. It
was a dream. A drug-induced dream.

He smiled. "You're special, Darcy. You'll need to be strong," he
said softly.

And then he was gone.

It began the next day.

Her father had determined that he wasn't going into work;
neither was her mother. They were going to spend the day with her,
take a drive to the nearby mountains, and just spend time in that
quite and beautiful part of their state.

He couldn't find his Palm Pilot.

"You left it on the counter of your bath," she told him.

"How on earth would you know that? Were you in our room,
sweetheart?" her dad asked.

"No," Darcy said, startled herself. "I just...well, I guess it's
a place you might have left it."

He went upstairs to his bathroom and returned with his Palm
Pilot, looking at her oddly. "Thanks. I guess you know your old man
pretty well, huh, kid?"

Of course, that was it.

But then...

Little pieces of precognition began to come to her, now and
then. A few that summer, a few during her first years of college,
more after that.

They were disturbing at first. Then she came to accept them. She
thought that they were maybe something that Josh had very strangely
managed to leave her.

It wasn't until later that she decided it was time to call
Josh's father.

When the ghosts came.

_______ 1____

Jeannie Mason Thomas lay in the white expanse of the four-poster
bed in the Lee room at Melody House in pure bliss.

Roger was snoring softly at her side. Men, she thought
affectionately. Bless 'em. Whatever came, they could sleep.

She could not. She had to keep playing over the day, minute by
minute. Her wedding day.

There had been the usual hassles in the morning. Her mom had
gotten all teary every few minutes, and insisted on giving speeches
about sex and marriage that were totally unnecessary. Alice,
her matron of honor, had clipped off two of her newly purchased
acrylic nails trying to fix Jeannie's train. Sandy, another
bridesmaid, had gotten too looped on the champagne they had shared
while dressing for the service. The limo had been late. Her
original soprano had come down with a sore throat leaving
Jeannie desperately seeking a new singer at the last minute. But
she'd managed to find an Irish tenor through the priest, Father
O'Hara, and once she had reached the Revolution-era church just
outside town, everything had gone perfectly.

Everyone claimed that it had been one of the most
beautiful weddings they had ever seen. Roger had been tall,
dark, and glorious in his tux. Her father had been stately, her
mother beautiful. Her brother and sister, both part of the wedding
ceremony, had been well behaved, joking, laughing, and wonderful.
Her first dance with her new husband had been magical, but it was
during her dance with her father that she had realized she was one
of the luckiest human beings in the world with a tender, tight
family,
and
an incredible groom.

The reception would be the talk of a number of counties for
months to come. The Irish tenor had joined with the band. The music
had gone from classical to rock and pop to theatrical. The food had
been delicious, the cake stupendous.

Then, after fully enjoying their own reception, they had taken
off at last for Melody House. And it hadn't been as if making love
had been anything new for them, but making love as man and
wife was new and therefore, somehow, more sensual, more
erotic, and so deeply satisfying. They'd been hot and heavy, they'd
laughed, they'd joked over getting out of clothing, slipping in the
shower in their haste, rolling off the bed, and all sorts of little
foibles. They'd had a great deal more champagne, finishing the
bottle that had been left in the elegant little silver bucket on
the antique table set before the fireplace. They'd dined on the
delicious little snacks left for them, caviar, quiches,
chocolate-dipped strawberries and more. Then they'd made love
again, all lazy and slow, and it had been incredibly luxurious as
well. Melody House had offered everything they had wanted. In the
morning, they could go downstairs and be served breakfast in the
sunny little nook off the kitchen. They could spend a day indulging
in the heated pool-a recent addition to the colonial manor. They
could ride the trails that meandered through miles of forest when
the sun was just setting. They could have both privacy and service.
Jeannie had every right to be entirely blissful, and also, patient
with the fact that her new husband could sleep, while she could
not.

BOOK: Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted
11.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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