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Laura, only five or six years old, stood next to their mother. Unlike her parents, her little sister could see what was happening. She was crying and clutching a teddy bear to her chest. Her face was a mask of horror and fear, and the very sight brought tears to Cassie’s eyes.
This is what she had feared. This is what she had known was coming. And that awareness was all she needed. This had happened before, and she refused to let it happen again. She grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it as hard as she could to the left. Her hands burned and her arms shook, but she refused to let go. Refused to give up.
Adrenaline gave her superhuman strength. Foot by foot, the car drifted. The darkness whipped by and the illuminated section of the road grew closer with every second. She changed her trajectory enough to miss hitting her sister, but it wasn’t enough to save her parents. Right before the collision, she locked eyes with her mother. Years of silence had caused a mountain of regret to form between them. And now, Cassie didn’t have enough time to say she was sorry.
She forced herself to keep her eyes open as the car collided with her family.
Cassie bolted up in bed, clutching her sheet to her chest. Sweat and tears soaked through her pajamas. Her breath came out rough and ragged. It took her a moment to realize the inky blackness around her was not the same as the one in her dream. She was safe in her bed. And, most likely, so were her parents and her sister.
Just like the night before, Cassie swung her legs over the side of her bed and plodded into the kitchen. Unlike yesterday, however, she took a moment to cast a glance over her shoulder to the dining room.
The same ghost from yesterday waited for her.
She didn’t have a coffee cup to drop this time, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She had expected him. The adrenaline in her system subsided, and she didn’t care what happened next. She refused to be afraid.
Like any good ghost whisperer, she walked straight up to him.
“Can you talk?”
The ghost looked down at her but didn’t open his mouth.
“Can you show me who you are? A name? A house? Anything for me to help you. This is a two-way street, you know.”
The figure in her dining room blinked twice before shaking his head side to side. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Cassie had caught it.
“Are you afraid to talk to me?”
The ghost said nothing.
“Is someone stopping you from talking to me?”
The instant the words left her mouth, a fiery anger crawled across her skin. Just like yesterday. Instead of giving in to her fear, Cassie pushed back. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. She had an ability few people possessed. If anyone could figure out what was going on, it was her.
She realized the anger didn’t emanate from the spirit in front of her. He was a cool breeze on a hot summer day. He was static and calm. But the rest of the room was a furnace. Was this what hell would feel like? Was the Devil knocking on her door?
An electric tingle struck the tips of her fingers and worked its way up her arms and shoulders, to the top of her head. A feeling she rarely experienced these days, except when she was closest to the other side.
But before she could channel the energy, it sparked and fizzled out of existence. The cool breeze in the center of the room dissipated. The surrounding heat was slower to recede. However, Cassie had gotten her first real answer.
The fiery anger was separate from the ghost that had now visited two days in a row. In fact, it was trying to control the spirit and keep it from talking to her. But why? What would it gain from not allowing Cassie to solve the mystery man’s case?
Cassie opened her eyes and found herself alone in her dining room. The encounter had been so short, but she’d gained insight into the case. This was the information David wanted from her. It wouldn’t be much for now—most likely it would make things more confusing—but it could eventually nudge them in one direction over another. And those were the decisions that helped solve a case.
Ignoring her need for coffee, Cassie ran back to her room and grabbed her phone. It was four in the morning, but she couldn’t wait to text David. Besides, he was an early riser. One hour wouldn’t be the death of him.
Two entities. Mystery victim is cool and calm. Seemed afraid to talk to me. As soon as he tried, a second entity appeared. The angry oven. Couldn’t see it, but it filled the room again. Doesn’t want me communicating with the victim. Don’t know why. I’ll let you know if anything else happens.
Cassie read over her text twice, making sure she left nothing out. There wasn’t much to say. She had no concrete information about the victim to tell who he was or when he died, and the red-hot entity was, at least for the moment, invisible to the naked eye.
Some ghost whisperer she was.
But an unread text distracted her from her self-loathing. From someone unexpected. She didn’t think she’d hear from him anytime soon. If ever.
Jason Broussard, the security guard from the museum, had sent her a message. Cassie’s heart hammered as she clicked on his name. Part of her couldn’t get to the text fast enough, and part of her wanted to throw her phone out an open window.
I know it’s late, so I hope this doesn’t wake you up, but I’ve had two beers and apparently, I’m a lightweight these days. For what it’s worth, I had a great time on our date. It was a complete disaster and ended with me getting sucker punched, but I still had a good time. I know you’ve been avoiding spending more than 30 seconds with me at a time, so I just wanted to apologize if I did anything wrong. If it’s because you decided you actually hate me, that’s fine. But if it’s out of embarrassment, I hope maybe I can take you out again sometime. It can only get better from here, right? No pressure. Hope you have a good time with your family. See you at work.
Cassie groaned and fell back onto her bed. She’d been avoiding even thinking about her date with Jason for the last few weeks because it had gone up in such spectacular flames. She’d been so distracted by the revelation that the little boy ghost in her bedroom had spoken the name of her childhood friend, Sarah Lennox, that
