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“It’s safe.” I stepped back and hugged my arms across my chest in a vague attempt to control the tremors of unease rolling through me.
He pulled out his phone and began taking photos. Once he’d finished, I asked, “Have you any idea who he is?”
“No, but the woman who found him said his name was John Miller, the eldest son of one her neighbors. Apparently he’d only just returned home from a working holiday overseas.”
I frowned. “That suggests he’s not connected to Maelle.”
“We won’t know that until we discover more about him and talk to her.”
He put his phone away and carefully patted our dead man down. There was no movement in John’s clothes—no give. It appeared that not only hadhefrozen, but also anything connected to him. There was obviously a wallet in his front pocket and a phone in his rear pocket, but neither could be removed or checked.
I shivered again and hoped like hell that death had been instant. That he hadn’t suffered, even if the state of his eyes suggested that likely wasn’t the case.
“Ciara is going to have a hard time doing an autopsy on—” I stopped as the air around his body shimmered slightly. It wasn’t the wind. It was a ghost.Hisghost, if luck was with us.
“What?” Aiden asked sharply.
“I think his spirit is here. You want me to connect with Belle and see if we can uncover anything?”
“Worth a shot.”
I nodded and immediately reached out.You busy?
I am if you call helping out Frank with the mountain of dishes busy.Her mental tones were amused.What do you need?
I think the victim’s spirit might be here.
Think? Given your strengthening talents and the merging of ours, you should be able to see him if he was.
The air shimmered briefly, but I think he’s too new for me to see.
Possible. Hang on while I go into the reading room and get comfortable.There was a long pause.Righto, let’s do this.
I returned my attention to Aiden. “Start recording.”
As he nodded and hit the record button on his phone, I deepened the connection between Belle and me, broadening it from a simple sharing of thoughts to one that was all-encompassing—a merging of metaphysical beings. There was no me here in this connection, and no her. There was simply us, even if her spirit remained anchored to her body via a tenuous ethereal thread—to do otherwise would mean her death.
John’s spirit was indeed here, though he was little more than a hazy, almost glitchy figure that kept fading in and out of existence.
He’s confused, Belle said,and fighting the call to move on.
A surprising number of spirits—especially the newer ones like John—did this. Sometimes Belle could help them move on, but there were always a few who had no desire to do so. Always a few who either refused to believe they were dead or simply had no desire to leave those they loved, even if it meant dooming their soul to never moving on once those loved oneshad.
John, Belle said, her voice holding a slight whip of command, though more to gain his attention than any real need to force him to talk. Most ghosts were very happy to do so, if only to uncover what the hell was going on.Tell us what happened.
His spirit flickered, fractured, for several seconds before his reply came.I don’t know. I really don’t know.
I repeated everything that was being said for Aiden’s benefit, though my attention remained mostly on the ghostly figure.
Why am I standing outside my body?he continued.What’s happened to me?
You died—
No,he cut in.I can’t be dead. I’m here, talking to you.
I’m a spirit talker, John. You’re standing outside your flesh because you’re currently refusing the call to move on.
I don’t want to move on. I want to get back into my body.He paused, his insubstantial features turning toward us. The eyes that were black holes in his body shone blue in his death.Can you help me get back into my body?
