Last Dance (13 page)

I was floating in a wonderful dream where someone loved me and I loved him in return. There was music and happiness and no problems. I longed to live in this moment forever. From far away, I heard someone calling.

Sabine
…
Sabine
…

That name again! I thought with irritation. Energy surged then faded. A jolt of clarity rocked my mind—and I was back. It was like waking suddenly from a dream. I blinked fast, panic rising inside me. What had just happened? Why was I kissing Dominic?

Jumping back, I stared at Dominic in shock. He looked confused and reached for me, but I backed further away. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Everything!” I choked out. “How could you? I can’t believe I was just—that we were—”

“Kissing?” Dominic smiled.

“Ohmygod!”

“Is that a compliment or complaint?”

“You don’t understand—it wasn’t me! It was … HER!”

He frowned, looking a bit dazed, too. I wanted to explain, but all I could do was sputter and shake my head. How could I blame what just happened on a ghost? That was crazy—even for me!

Turning around, I ran. I was hardly aware of the rain as I jumped off the pavilion, only shame and embarrassment. I had to get away.

It wasn’t my fault,
I tried to reassure myself as I dodged around a group of children waving balloons. It was Chloe. She loved to dance, not me. All the romantic desires were hers, not mine. She started the kiss with James—yet I’d finished it with Dominic. And heaven help me, I’d enjoyed it.

“Sabine, wait!”

Ignoring Dominic, I ran faster, racing past booths, only slowing once to avoid an old guy in a ghoul costume. Then I sprinted through the gate and out of the park. Tightening my jacket against the rain, I had no destination in mind except far away.

But there was no running from my shame. Over and over, I kept replaying the kiss. Not sweet and friendly like my kisses with Josh, but wild and powerful. I hadn’t known it was possible.

Oh, Josh! I’m so sorry
, I thought guiltily. I’d worried about him cheating on me with other girls, yet I was the betrayer. How could I explain it to him? Josh would never believe I’d been possessed by a ghost. But that was the truth—it had been Chloe. Not content to invade my dreams, she’d taken over my body. Yet I’d been there, too, sharing wild emotions, enjoying myself …

I ran even faster, passing the cemetery and into the main section of town. I recognized stores and hurried up on the sidewalk to escape the rain. Had it only been this afternoon that I’d been here with Thorn and Dominic? That seemed like another lifetime. How could I ever talk to Dominic again? What did he think of me? Or had a ghost possessed him, too?

I was out of breath and my jacket was drenched. Shaking my wet hair, I took refuge under the barbershop awning and sat on a bench. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to keep my body from shaking.

I don’t know how long I sat there. It may have only been minutes, but it felt like decades. When my heart slowed and I felt almost normal again, I had to face the fact that running away didn’t solve anything. I had to talk to Dominic. He’d been under Chloe’s spell, too, or he never would have kissed me. So he’d have to understand. He was probably embarrassed, too, and would be happy to forget it ever happened.

Resolved, I stood up from the bench.

But as I stepped out into the street, the storm lashed out full force and rain pounded so fiercely I ran for cover. When I looked up, I realized I stood on the threshold of the Chloe Museum. It seemed more than coincidence.

I was beyond surprise when I found the door unlocked. The sound of rain faded as I entered the building. The air was still with a faint aroma of vanilla. This was my chance to find out what secrets were hidden behind the red-heart door.

Water dripped from my hair and clothes as I cautiously entered the museum. I shivered slightly, more from facing the unknown than the cold. And when I reached the forbidden door with its bright red heart, the knob turned easily—as if it were inviting me to enter.

My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and I saw that the room wasn’t much larger than a closet. It was lined with glass cases and framed news clippings on the wall. Finding a wall switch, I flipped it on. Only instead of flooding the room with light, haunting music flowed from hidden speakers. The same melody I’d heard in my dreams.

Chloe’s song.

I strained my eyes to study the news clippings. Yellow with age and bold headlines: “Local Girl’s Tragic Fall, Dancing Leads to Death” and “Missing Young Man Still Sought.” This was the first evidence that hinted at James’s involvement in Chloe’s death. I skimmed the article, but there was little information about him. No one knew his full name or where he came from. But I did find out more details about Chloe’s death. The rain-soaked dirt at the cliff’s edge had crumbled beneath her and she’d plunged down a steep canyon. It wasn’t the fall that killed her, but a dead tree with a sharp branch. She’d literally died of a broken heart.

There were pictures, too. Icy prickles rose on my skin as I looked at the smiling girl, her full skirt spinning as she danced on her last day of life. And there in the background, close behind her, was a handsome golden haired young man. His smile hinted at smugness and his dark eyes were bold and confident.

James
. It was as if I knew him intimately—how sweet words slid so easily from his soft lips, his warm, eager touch, and how he laughed easily at jokes, especially his own.

My cheeks warmed and I quickly turned my attention to the glass cases. They were filled with odd items: bits of torn clothing, scattered pearls, a scrap of nylon, a hairbrush, and a ring missing a stone—the sort of things you’d find in someone’s garbage, not protected under glass.

An invisible force drew me to a small glass case half-hidden in a corner. When I saw the object inside, I choked back horror. It was a sharp branch, twisted and darkened with odd patches. And I realized why this room was forbidden.

Instead of celebrating Chloe’s life, it showcased her death. Broken jewelry, tattered clothes, bloodstains, and a branch from the tree that ended her life.

But why would Kasper, a man who never even knew Chloe, create such a sick collection? Was he some kind of pervert? Or was there another, darker reason?

And then it hit me.

I turned back to the picture of Chloe and James. And I looked at it, staring deep into faces. Take away the golden hair, add age lines and about fifty pounds, and the resemblance was unmistakable. And shocking.

So many things suddenly made sense: Chloe’s ghost started making annual appearances nine years ago—about the same time Kasper moved to town, Kasper’s odd obsession with a girl who died a half-century ago began, and Chloe’s insistence that James was still here—because he was.

Only he’d changed his name to Kasper.

I was so stunned, I wasn’t aware that someone had crept up behind me—until a rough hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

“What do think you’re doing in here? I told you to stay away!” Kasper’s fleshy face flamed with fury.

“James!” I exclaimed, then slapped my hand over my mouth.

“What did you … YOU!” He glared at me with intense hatred. “You’ve been poking around too much.”

I backed up against a wall, still reeling from this realization. Now that I studied him close up, it was so obvious. The good looks had faded, but the cocky attitude was still etched in hard lines around his mouth and forehead.

“You should have left when I warned you,” he said harshly.

“You! You left the note and made that phone call! But how did you know about my grandmother?”

“You used a credit card in my store. It only took a quick credit check to find out about you.”

“But why me? I never did anything to you.”

“Not me—Chloe. I had to stop you from sending her away. I’ve dealt with your kind before.”

“My kind!”

“I’ve studied enough freaks to recognize one when I see one. You weren’t the first psychic to come here. I got rid of them and I’ll get rid of you, too.”

“What do you mean?” I cried, so flat against the wall now that I could feel the rough wood stabbing into my shoulder.

“I’ve had my fill of nosy psychics, claiming to see ghosts and knowing more about Chloe than I do. It doesn’t matter that I never see her ghost myself. I know she’s there every October when other people see her. She’s my ghost and no one’s gonna send her away. I got a good thing here with this museum and my books. You’re not going to ruin it.”

He reached out viciously for my arm, and jerked me out of the room. For an old guy, he was surprisingly strong. I struggled, but it was no use. He kicked the red-heart door shut and pulled me down the hall. I could hardly breathe. My mind raced, grasping this new horror. I kicked out and connected with soft flesh. He grunted with pain, but didn’t let go. With a furious snarl, he wrenched my arm back so hard I screamed

“Shut up!” he barked.

“That hurts! Let go!” Pricks of light in blackness swam before my eyes.

He shoved me forward.

I stumbled and would have fallen except he jerked me to my feet. My arms felt as if they were breaking and tears stung my eyes. The more I struggled, the sharper the pain. I wondered where he was taking me, terrified to find out. Was he going to kill me—or worse?

He stopped in front of a door, yanked it open, and flung me forward. “In there.”

My arms flailed and I stumbled, falling, bumping down a staircase, landing painfully on a hard floor. A door slammed from above and a bolt locked.

Feeling my way back up the stairs, I found the door and shook the knob. Rattling, pulling, and screaming to be let out until my voice grew hoarse. Finally, I gave up and I sank wearily onto the top step.

Trapped.

I’d been stuck in a room at school once, and while that had been scary, at least I knew I’d get out eventually. There was no knowing anything now—except fear.

Trembling, I called out with my mind. “Opal, I need you.”

I listened, waited, desperate to hear her comforting voice.

“Please, Opal. I need your help.”

But there was no answer. And I felt abandoned. How could she let me down when I needed her the most?

Then I thought of all the people I’d let down lately—Penny-Love, Josh, Thorn, my sisters. And I hadn’t succeeded in helping Nona, either. I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, yet I had. And now that I needed help, there was no one around. My actions were coming full circle. Karma, Nona would call it.

Time drifted to a kind of numb blur as I huddled on the stair step. After a while my eyes adjusted, and I made out bulky shapes. Stacked boxes, a broken bicycle, a legless chair, a lopsided couch, a ripped mattress, a folded Ping-Pong table, and even a juke box.

I guessed I was in the museum’s basement.

What did Kasper have planned for me? I should have fought harder and ran away when I’d had the chance. But he seemed so old and harmless, like a nerdy Santa Claus. But there was nothing jolly about keeping gruesome momentos of Chloe’s death. Had he bought or stolen them from a police evidence room? He was totally twisted.

I thought back to our first meeting at the museum. On my way out, I’d told him the phone was going to ring
before
it rang. At the time it seemed like a harmless trick. But now I realized I’d given myself away. He’d seen me at the park last night talking with Chloe and must have switched on the pavilion lights. He would have been desperate to get rid of me before I got rid of Chloe. He faked the phone call saying my grandmother was in the hospital. When that didn’t work, he’d probably seen the yellow jeep drive by and followed us out to Peaceful Pines and left the warning note.

It all made terrifying sense. But what would happen when he returned? He couldn’t let me go—not now.

I have to get out of here before he comes back!

Jumping up, I pounded desperately on the door. But it was locked and built so sturdily that I’d need something heavy to break through. And the lock wasn’t one of those old, easy-to-pick types. This one was gleaming brass, state of the art, and undoubtedly bolted. The only way to open it was from the other side with a key. And the only windows were too high and small to work.

Still, I couldn’t just give up. So I explored the room, searching for anything that might help me escape. I moved boxes, peered into dark corners, and crawled behind heavy furniture. But all I found were cobwebs and solid brick walls. After bumping my sore knee again, I sank down on the floor in defeat.

Hopeless.

I looked at my watch—11:20. I’d been here for nearly an hour. What was happening at the celebration? Had Cathy given her speech? Had the guest of honor made an appearance? Was Kasper watching with satisfied delight? And what about Dominic? Had he given up on me and returned to his campsite?

I closed my eyes and concentrated hard again on Opal. She was supposed to watch over me, so where was she? More than anything I longed to hear her comforting voice. She wouldn’t just let me rot here—not unless I was meant to be like Chloe. Was it my destiny to die young?

Shuddering, I wrapped my arms around my shoulders. A draft of air swirled around my ankles. And I sensed something different.

Opening my eyes, I saw a glowing silver globe floating in the air, rising high over my head.

“Who are you?” I whispered. “Opal?”

The light glowed brighter, taller, and wider. It shimmered into a misty shape of a young girl with flowing caramel hair and a full cotton skirt.

Chloe was back.