44: Book Six Read online

  I let him continue.

  “I feel the sorriest for the older kids. A lot of the little ones are too young to understand. But those damn teenage years are hard enough without having to go through this on top of it.”

  David finished his beer and ordered another.

  “It’s so weird, isn’t it?” he went on. “The different lives everybody leads. Those houses up on Awbrey Butte are not that far away. You know, some of them are still priced at more than a million dollars. And those swanky condos are just down the street.”

  I remembered when they were built.

  “They must be nice,” I said.

  “Nice doesn’t begin to cover it. When I get my first movie deal, I’m buying one just for when I come back and visit you bitches in Bend.”

  “Have you been in one of them?”

  “Well, no. But my old boy toy Eduardo used to go out with a guy who lived upstairs. He said it was something. All granite countertops with a great view of the city. And marble floors, Abby Craig. Marble floors.”

  I looked at my watch. Somehow it had gotten to be almost 10. I checked my phone and saw that I had missed a call from Ty. I listened to the message. He said he had just called to say hi. Listening to his voice reminded me how much I missed him.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and threw the phone down on the table.

  “Rhymes with bye?” David said, looking at me.

  “I didn’t know you were a poet too?” I said, trying to regain my composure.

  “I can relate. Hey, can you flag down the waitress? I need another.”

  “Only if you promise to walk home,” I said.

  “Promise, Mom. Or I’ll just stay here until I’m sober.”

  “That might not be till next week,” I said.

  “Abby Craig, get me that waitress and stop worrying so much otherwise it’s going to be a long night. Besides, I called some of my theater pals. They’re coming over to meet up with us. I think this night is just beginning.”

  He ordered his beer. I was done. I had finished most of my one and only Ruby without any complaints from my liver. I figured I’d quit while I was ahead.

  I started to say goodnight and then stopped.

  I noticed someone I knew over in the corner. She was standing still and quiet, waiting for me.

  The ghost.

  CHAPTER 16

  I dug my fingernails into the wooden armrests.

  She looked like she had that night in the middle of the road. She was wearing a track suit. The same hair, the same thin, dark lips set off against the pale skin, the same circles around the eyes, the orbs set far back in the skull.

  She was looking right at me with that same awful stare.

  The people standing around her at the bar didn’t see her. I thought about pointing her out to David but remembered how that had ended the first time. All I could do was stare back at her.

  And then she suddenly started to move, walking slowly, never taking those terrible eyes off mine. I fought the sick feeling bubbling up inside me. I had to find out what she wanted.

  “Okay,” I said to David, still looking at the ghost. “I’m gonna call it a night. I’m beat.”

  He shot up out of his chair and kissed me, giddy and giggling, the happiest I’d seen him since the drive back from Portland.

  “See you tomorrow, right?” he said. “I think we’re working together for a few hours in the afternoon.”

  “Yeah,” I said, putting on my coat and grabbing my bag. “See you then.”

  She headed for the door and I followed.

  She went up Bond and then turned on Minnesota. She walked past a wine shop and down an alley. It was lined by brick buildings.

  This was the place in the visions. The alley that had felt familiar but that I hadn’t been able to place.

  She stopped and turned, looking at me with those eyes. A terrible coldness spread out from her.

  And I saw it for the first time, right before she faded into the bricks, disappearing completely.

  Her throat.

  The gash in her throat and the thick stream of black blood running down her neck.

  CHAPTER 17

  “I’ve got to figure this out,” I said after I told Kate about following the ghost to the alley. “I mean, I’m pretty sure she was murdered. She had this wound across her neck. But I suppose she could have been in some sort of accident too. Do you know if there have been any murders in that alley?”

  “No, I can’t think of any.”

  I had already done a quick internet search and come up with the same results.

  “I can look into it tomorrow,” Kate said, sounding tired. “Maybe it happened a long time ago.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But judging from the way she was dressed it seems recent.”

  I took a soda from the refrigerator, cracked it open, and drank most of it in one gulp. The adrenaline rush had left me thirsty.

  “Abby, let’s go sit down in the living room,” Kate said. “I was just about to make a pot of tea. Would, uh, would you like some?”

  She seemed preoccupied.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

  I grabbed my bag and headed to my bedroom, washed my face, and changed. When I came back out, Kate was sitting on the sofa, two mugs of hot tea on the coffee table. I sat down.

  She was quiet.

  “Oh, Kate. I almost forgot. David got called back. He just found out tonight.”

  “That’s great news,” she said, her voice flat.

  She was probably upset about the ghost and what it could mean.

  “So how was it tonight, the soup kitchen?” she said.

  With everything that had happened, I had almost forgotten. I gave her a quick recap.

  I threw a blanket over my legs and laughed suddenly when I remembered what David had said about Murder, She Wrote. I told Kate about the afghan joke he had made. She didn’t find it as amusing.

  She stood up.

  “I’m going to top off my cup. Want anymore?”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “You feeling okay?”

  “Yeah. I got it at Whole Foods last week. It’s a vanilla chai.”

  She wasn’t listening. Maybe she was just tired.

  I went back to thinking about the ghost and then noticed the new vase on the coffee table, full of fresh flowers. I got up and looked around. The anger started surging inside me.

  When Kate returned, I was quiet.

  “You want to watch some TV?” she said.

  “No, whatever you want. That’s how things work around here, right?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I didn’t answer, looking away.

  “Well, I guess I’ll go watch in bed,” she said, getting up. “Maybe you should think about getting some rest too.”

  “Stop telling me what to do, Kate,” I said, my voice quivering with rage. “Where are the cans?!”

  “The what?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. The old can vases that Ty brought us. The ones he made for us. What did you do with them?”

  Kate took a deep breath.

  “I just put them in the garage, Abby. But if you want, we can bring them back in.”

  “Well, you should have asked me first. They were mine too, you know.”

  I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as I stared at the black TV screen. I brushed them away with the back of my hand.

  “You’re right,” Kate said. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. To be honest, when I looked at them, they just made me mad. I couldn’t take it anymore. But that was wrong. They were yours.”

  I sighed and then nodded.

  “I’ll bring them back inside. I guess I didn’t assess it right. I thought getting them out of the house would help you in a way. I figured that it hurt for you to see them all the time as well. That they reminded you of him.”

  “We haven’t officially broken up or anything, you know,” I sa
id, still angry.

  “I know,” she said.

  “So why does everyone seem to think that we have?”

  “I don’t know. It just seems like...”

  “Stop it, Kate!” I said. “It’s not your business. Just bring in the stupid cans, okay? I’ll get rid of them when I’m ready to get rid of them. Not before and not because everyone took a vote and decided my life for me. I’ll take care of it. Keep your hands off my things.”

  I stomped off down the hallway and slammed my bedroom door as hard as I could.

  I threw myself on the bed, sobbing like a stupid high school girl with a broken heart.

  CHAPTER 18

  I woke up exhausted, my eyes swollen. I felt terrible. I dragged myself out of bed and looked around the house for Kate. She was already gone.

  “Hey, Abby,” she said, picking up on the first ring. I heard the gear shift in her car. “What’s up?”

  “I was calling to apologize. I was wrong. No excuses. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Kate? You there?”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said. “No worries. I know you’re still trying to figure out the Ty thing. I’m sorry too. Did you see? I put them back out.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. It’s just a symbol, I know, but it’s all I seem to have these days.”

  “I should know all about that,” she said. “Hey, I gotta go. There’s been another one of those bank robberies, over on Third this time. I’ll see you tonight, Abby.”

  “Be careful,” I said before she hung up.

  I felt a little better. But I needed to get it together. I needed to expect more of myself.

  ***

  “He’s going to kill himself,” Mo said as she slammed the old coffee grounds into the recycle bin. “And right before his big break. Dude is thinking with the wrong body part on this one. You might want to talk to him.”

  “Heard that, Negative Nancy,” David yelled at her. He was standing far over in the corner of the café, talking with some customers.

  “How did he do that?” I said, lowering my voice.

  “He’s all ears when he wants to be. Hey, fool, can you hear this? You’re the last person on the planet who should be skiing.”

  Even though she was a little harsh, Mo had a point. Since I had known David he had been allergic to the outdoors and any form of physical activity. I had a hard time picturing him up on Mt. Bachelor.

  I wiped down the counter and moved back over to the register to help a customer. After I took the order, David wandered back and leaned up against the glass pastry case, his arms crossed and his back toward Mo.

  “Tell Ms. The Song Remains the Same that I’m not even talking to her anymore,” he said. “Clearly she doesn’t know the first thing about learning something new and challenging yourself.”

  “Ha!” she shouted over the whirl of the foam machine. “This has nothing to do with challenging yourself. This is about that ski instructor who stops in for espresso.”

  David just held up his hand and looked away, batting his eyelashes.

  “And by the way, shouldn’t you be focusing on your acting right now?” she said. “Oh, wait, I guess you are. Acting like an idiot.”

  I took the order from the next customer, a regular who was a professor at the college. He was always nice and smiling and friendly, especially to me. He ordered a pumpkin spice latte like usual, and dropped a dollar in the tip jar. David gave me a look as he walked down to wait for Mo to make his drink.

  “Stop it,” I whispered, following him. “You’re crazy. He’s like 35.”

  “A hot 35. Okay, but I get it. Maybe a little short. But don’t tell him I said that. He’s like one of my biggest fans.”

  “Of course he is,” I said.

  “No, he really is. He teaches English and loves the theater. He goes to all our productions. He said I was really good.”

  “You are really good, David. You don’t have to take some professor’s word for it. A lot of people tell you the same thing.”

  “You’re right. Anyway, I realize that my timing might not be the best regarding ski lessons. But when love comes a knockin’ you best not keep it waiting. But I get the feeling Patti Smith over there doesn’t know the first thing about love either.”

  “Hey, lover boy, Patti Smith knows plenty about love,” Mo said. “Just ask Fred Sonic Smith.”

  “Okay, I don’t even know,” David said, looking at me. “In any case, I’ve been skiing before. When I was a kid. I was told I’m very flexible. And believe me, I’ve had loads of practice since then. I mean, being flexible.”

  He laughed and went back and reached below the counter, turning up the music as he eyed Mo.

  “But, Abby Craig, I wouldn’t mind a lesson or two if you have the time,” he said in a soft voice. “You know, just to get me up on my feet. I don’t want to come across as a total beginner with Sven. I want to look, you know, sporty.”

  Now I laughed. I didn’t really know how sporty looked, but I was pretty sure David wouldn’t be the poster boy for it.

  “What?” he said, snapping his towel into my arm. “Quit it. Just quit it right now! Anyway, I do recall you mentioning something about wanting to get up to the mountain this season.”

  Sometimes the size of my mouth and my inability to keep it shut was only rivaled by David.

  “Didn’t you say you wanted to reclaim it or something?”

  I hadn’t been back on a snowboard since the accident. It had even been longer since I had been skiing. I knew I had my balance back, knew that I probably could do it again now, but whenever I gave it any serious thought, I felt my calves grow weak.

  Even after everything I had been through, it scared me. Still. Maybe it was the simple fact that being up on the mountain would be forever linked in my mind with the accident and Jesse’s death. But I knew it was wrong to live like that. After Clyde, I promised myself that I would head back up there. That I would take back the things I could take back. Little victories.

  “So, you’re going to have your first lesson and then ski down the mountain with me?”

  David laughed.

  “No, silly. I’ll be your cheerleader as you come down the slopes. That’s what you call them, right? I’m using the right lingo?”

  “Cheerleader?”

  No, slopes.”

  I was playing with him.

  “Yeah, ‘slopes’ is good,” I said.

  “Well, isn’t it like riding a bike? And other things?”

  “I suppose.”

  I sensed he wasn’t going to be talked out of it. And I reckoned I should be there to minimize the damage and pick up the pieces if it came to that.

  “Okay, but let’s wait until after your audition,” I said. “The day after you get back or the day after that.”

  “Yay, perfect, Abby Craig!” he said, throwing his arms around me. “You’re the best!”

  CHAPTER 19

  The wind was strong, blowing through the pines on the sides of the track. I shivered for the first couple of laps before shaking off the cold. A mass of gray and white clouds sped across the sky above me. Snow was in the forecast again, but I had started to lose faith. Snow had started to feel like Santa Claus. Like it would never come.

  I slowly started picking up my speed with each lap. I hoped I could get to that place where my mind turned off. But there was no guarantee. In any case, there was something about strenuous exercise that made everything seem better. And I often came away with a new perspective on things and, sometimes, a solution to a problem.

  Thoughts of the ghost came up, but I didn’t fight. I just went with it, keeping my emotions out of the picture. My mind replayed the images while my legs churned around the track. The snowy alley. The body. The blood.

  I had done a more thorough internet search but had again come up with nothing. Kate hadn’t turned up anything useful on her end either. There was no record of a body being found anywhere near Tin Pan Alley in the last 30
years.

  Maybe I was wrong about the location of the alley. Maybe it was a different alley in a different town. I didn’t think so. Kate was going to expand her search anyway.

  I had seen the ghost twice now in real life and several times in visions. But I wasn’t making any progress.

  It started raining. I thought about how this storm would eventually make its way to Montana. I thought about Ty.

  I wasn’t making any progress there either.

  And there was nothing I could think of to do about it. I loved Ty and had told him so. I felt that deep down in his heart he believed that. But he had heard me say those words, and I couldn’t take them back. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be the truth. I knew now that I would never stop loving Jesse. It was just part of who I was, just like seeing ghosts was part of who I was.

  I was going around in circles. I had reached the same conclusion before. Ty had a lot on his plate and I couldn’t blame him for needing time. Still I wished I could turn back time to that summer night, so far away now, so out of reach, under the shadows of Broken Top, under the stars.

  The miles passed under my feet, four, five, six, but I wasn’t finding any peace or any kind of breakthrough. I decided to stop at seven.

  On my last lap, I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket. I slowed down and pulled it out.

  It was Ty.

  “Hi,” I said, breathless.

  “Good to know I still have that effect on you,” he said.

  “That’s for sure,” I said. “But I was out here on the track.”

  “You want to call back?”

  “No, now’s good. I was just thinking about you actually. I’m glad you called.”

  “I’m glad I called too then.”

  “I wanted to tell you something,” I said. “I’ve been seeing ghosts again. I thought you should know.”

  “I’m happy you told me,” he said after a brief delay. “I want you to tell me those things.”