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“I know,” I assured him, scanning the menu. “And don’t worry about it. It’s usually not such a thing. And I don’t mind telling you—that’s the first time a spirit has ever tried to hurt me. Usually they’re harmless, even when they’re angry. Caroline’s a real piece of work, though. She knocked the wind out of me. ”
“She did worse than that. I saw the floor in there. And that closet? What did you do—go straight through the door? There was blood everywhere. If I’ve learned anything from watching Law & Order reruns, it’s that dead people don’t spurt blood. ”
“It always looks worse than it is. It’s the very nature of bleeding. One little cut looks like a massacre. ”
“Where? Where was this ‘one little cut’ of which you speak? When we first opened that door and you were there on the ground, it looked like someone had thrown a basketful of razor blades at you. Then you come out of the bathroom looking damp but unharmed. You want to explain that to me?”
“I did explain it. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. I cleaned up, and there were only a few small nicks. No big deal. ”
“Show me. ”
“No. ” Even though he couldn’t see through my shirt and sweater, I closed my arms around my stomach again. It still hurt, some—but not too bad, and only when I thought about it. “And knock it off, already. If I was hurt, I’d tell you and show you just to get you off my back. But I’m not. Can we let it go?”
“Fine. ” He picked up his menu and studied it to make a point of ignoring me.
Our waiter returned to take our orders and left us again to our sulking. He knew I was lying, and I knew there was no way to tell him the truth. We turned our attention to the digital recorder, since it was safer territory.
“I don’t know how much useful chat you’ll find on here. She didn’t say anything much except that her name was Caroline and someone had made a mistake,” I said as I slipped it across the table to him. “I’d be shocked if there’s anything on there I didn’t hear. ”
He toyed with the buttons and turned the device over in his hands. “Caroline, huh? That’s all she gave you to work with?”
“Sorry. ” I wanted to add that she was only halfway in our world anymore, but that seemed incongruous with the fact that she’d slapped me around so successfully. Another possibility occurred to me, so I put it out there for him to chew on. “I think maybe she was mentally ill. She’s violent and angry, and she wants something—but she’s no good at communicating it. ”
“You think she’s a crazy ghost?”
“It happens more often than you’d think. People who die in despair, or frustration, they tend to stick around. But she’s not all faded out like so many of them are. She’s pretty powerful, so I have to assume her weirdness is a relic of her living personality. ”
The waiter showed up with our drinks, and we paused our conversation while he set them down and retreated. I sipped at mine for a few seconds, then removed the straw and gulped most of the soda down. I was so thirsty I could hardly stand it.
“Excuse me?” I called the waiter back and he returned with another drink a few seconds later.
While I worked on the next soda, Nick played with the recorder. He turned the volume down and rewound a bit, letting it run a few seconds at a time. “I can hear you, but nothing responding. ”
“On that? I can’t either. But maybe with the sound up all the way, you’ll be able to pick her up. Her voice is funny. It’s faraway one second, and screaming in your face the next. She’s disoriented, which isn’t so strange. But I have a feeling she’s been dead a long time. ”
“How do you figure that?”
“The way she was dressed, for one thing. And for another . . . well, it’s just a feeling. The more I think about it, the more I think something woke her up. Maybe the remodeling, that’s my best guess. ”
He zippe
d the recording forward and stopped it. My voice jumped out of it. “They who? Who’s coming for you?” I’d said.
“Did she answer?”
I shook my head. “No. She just went on about some mistake. She mentioned the Klan, but that may or may not mean anything. ”
“Do you think it’s the remodeling guys?”
“Who knows? I don’t think she knows anymore. She hears strange people moving around, tearing up the place she occupies. I can see how she’d think it meant someone was coming for her. If that doesn’t explain her, then I sure as hell don’t know what does. ”
“Caroline,” he mused. “It’s a common name, but not that common. Not anymore. And you said something about her clothes. Tell me everything—every stupid little thing. You never know what’ll turn out to be important. ”
I went ahead and filled him in on most of the details, which is to say, I left out the parts that involved me bleeding all over the place. By the time our food arrived I’d given him enough to make a loose police description of her. Perhaps it would be enough for him to find some historical notation, but I didn’t think he’d have much luck.
She could have been anyone: an employee, a visitor—someone passing through who passed on instead. I suspected that Nick’s big news scoop was going to be a bust, but if he was honestly interested and deeply bored, he might turn up a likely ghost candidate. If he did, he was welcome to tell me about it, but I didn’t have any intention whatsoever of going back into that room.
He said he didn’t blame me.
