Poltergeist Party Girls Read online

  Cyrus straightened. “What happened?”

  “Let’s say past history, and I don’t want to talk about it.” I turned to the computer monitor and stabbed at the keys with my index finger as I entered Alice Hartley’s name.

  Cyrus backed away. "No hard feelings. I didn't want to see my best friend deal with another broken heart.

  I glowered at Cyrus. “No worries. I need to get back to work.” I forced a smile on my face.

  He stood in the doorway. "Have a good one." He left in a hurry as his heavy footfalls went down the stairs.

  Anger seethed through me. How dare Cyrus think I would lead Jason on? Cyrus didn’t know anything about me. I wasn’t someone who’d intentionally hurt another person.

  My hands trembled, but I took a deep breath and grabbed the edge of Jason’s desk to steady myself.

  Move forward. Move on.

  I scanned the internet search for Alice Hartley. Something caught my attention. I clicked on site. It was an older article from the Cloverville Telegraph. It was an archived newspaper dated September eighteenth, nineteen eighty-one. Alice Hartley and Frederick Barnes engaged. She appeared young and happy, full of hope. The Alice Hartley I met in the library exuded bitterness.

  In the article, it mentioned that Alice was a member of the sorority, and a member of student council, and the Cloverville Historical Society.

  Below Alice’s engagement was another announcement of Kara Ross and Hunter McAuliffe. Kara Ross had been a member of the historical society. I jotted it down on a post-it note.

  I scrolled back to Alice Hartley’s engagement. Were you so angry that you killed the sorority sisters?

  My phone buzzed. It was Ava. I answered. "Hey, you. What's up?"

  “When do you get off work?” She asked.

  “No. Hello.”

  “Laney and I are calling a family pow-wow. Let’s meet at Birdie’s Café around six o’clock.”

  Birdie’s was located on the town square. I could have another meeting with Rudolph Clover and update him on what happened at the library.

  "No. Not a pow-wow." This usually meant drama, tears, and arguments.

  “Yes. We need to talk about Mom and Dad and Taffy and the baby.”

  I groaned inwardly. “I’ll try and make it.”

  Jason opened the door to the Third Eye Investigation office.

  “Got to go. I have to work.” I tabbed my phone off. I’d much rather face a ghost than deal with family drama, especially when it came to Dad and his new family.

  “Hey, I want to show you how to do some paperwork downstairs.” Jason pointed at the computer. “Did you find anything?”

  “I discovered Alice and one of the sorority sisters were members of the historical society. Come to think of it, so was Dr. Smith.”

  “I think we’re going to have to talk Dr. Smith. Do you want to go after work?” Jason perused through some papers on his desk.

  Cyrus’s warning about not getting involved with Jason popped into my mind like an emergency weather warning.

  "I can't. I have to meet with my sisters. We're in the middle of a family crisis. "Does it have anything to do with your grandmother?" His expression grew

  serious.

  I might as well tell Jason because if this meeting were about Dad coming back to Cloverville, well the gossipmongers' tongues would be wagging.

  I shook my head. “My Dad and his new and pregnant wife, one of my former classmates plan on returning home. My Mom is not happy.”

  Jason’s mouth dropped open. “Your Dad is the one who took off with Taffy Williams to Sturgis, South Dakota.”

  “The one and the same.” I nodded.

  “How about tomorrow morning around ten? We’ll meet at the town square near Rudolph’s statue, and I’ll bring coffee from the Crooked Spoons.”

  “You got it.” I had a sneaking suspicion Jason knew about Rudolph’s ghost occupying the town statue.

  Downstairs, I plugged in automobile parts numbers into a spreadsheet program. It was gratifying to work with numbers, and I had to stay focused on the invoices and not think about ghosts, murders, and how they all connected. I caught glimpses of Jason as he did his ‘normal' job. I couldn't help admiring his cute butt.

  Finally, five o’clock rolled around.

  “Time to wrap it up,” Jason said. “Good luck with your meeting.”

  “Thanks, I’ll need it.”

  On my drive over to Birdie’s Café to meet with Ava and Laney, Snowball materialized on the passenger seat. She sat up straight and purred. I found the ghost cat’s company reassuring and comforting.

  “What’s up with Kara, Jeannie, and Mary? Did Jeannie steal Fred Barnes away from Alice Hartley? Did she kill them?”

  Snowball lifted her face up to me and blinked.

  “I wish you could talk to me.”

  I drove by the town cemetery. My ghostie senses tingled. I caught the essence of darkness and evil, but not like I did the other night. I looked out the driver’s side window. A large black dog sat at the entrance gate. It watched my truck as I drove past.

  The hairs on the back of my neck lifted. I glanced in my rearview mirror. Hovering above my truck bed were three silver orbs that sparkled and glittered like tiny mirror glass balls.

  I blinked, and then the mirror balls faded out. I peeked over at the passenger seat, and Snowball had disappeared, too.

  Rudolph was right. Things were going on in this town, and I needed to protect myself from spirits from the void. I had to find Nana's Book of Shadows.

  At Birdie’s Café, I was the last one to arrive, Ava wore a sundress, and Laney wore a white tee-shirt and jeans. They’d ordered a hamburger and fries for me.

  “You’re late.” Ava pushed my plate across the table to me.

  “I’m working now.” I replied.

  “What’s wrong? You’re super pale.” Laney frowned.

  Did I tell them about the black dog at the cemetery entrance gate? Would it better for my sisters if they didn’t know how deeply involved I was becoming with the ghosts of Cloverville?

  “I’m tired. I guess you didn’t have any more luck finding Nana’s Book of Shadows?” I reached for the ketchup and squirted on my hamburger patty. The lettuce had wilted.

  “No, but I had an idea. What if Dad has it?” Laney looked from me to Ava.

  Ava rolled her eyes. “Dad wouldn’t take a book to Sturgis.”

  “Who knows why Dad does things,” I said. “Why are we meeting?”

  Laney cleared her throat. “Dad is moving back, and he wants to build a house on the land.” Our family home sat on fifteen acres.

  "What?" I dropped the ketchup bottle onto my hamburger. I shook my head so that that last bit news could settle into the brain cells.

  “Yeah. Mom is on the verge of blowing a gasket,” Ava said.

  “I thought she got the house and the land.” Laney removed the ketchup bottle from my plate and wiped it off.

  “Mom got the house, but Dad received five acres of the land. He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers unless she agreed. Desperate to the end the marriage, she agreed.” Ava reached for one of my fries.

  "Dad planned this out. He knew he’d return to Cloverville," I said. "The conniving weasel." I lowered my hamburger. I wasn't hungry anymore.

  “What are we going to do?” Laney said. “I don’t want to have to look at Taffy and Dad and their little family. Mom doesn’t either.”

  “We need to hire a lawyer,” I said. “We need to talk to Uncle James. Bottom line.”

  “I agree.” Laney nodded.

  “Are you going to eat your fries?” Ava asked. “I ordered a salad, but I’m still hungry.”

  “Have at it?” I did grab a fry and shoved it into my mouth.

  “Do you think Nana had anything that could help us with the case?” Ava pulled my plate over to her.

  “Who knows?” Laney stirred her coffee.

  “I think we should search Nana’s house.” I took a bite o
f my cold burger.

  “Uncle James has the key,” Ava answered. “He won’t let us in.”

  "We can sneak in," I said.

  We all exchanged knowing glances like we did as kids when we planned to sneak out at night. I hadn’t felt this camaraderie with my sisters in a long time.

  “When do we do it?” Laney asked.

  “Tonight.”

  "I can't," Ava said. "I have to prepare for the historical society meeting. They're planning a memorial to your old boss, Dr. Smith. It seems she was the president several years in a row."

  “I think Nana was member of the historical society.” Laney asked.

  “I didn’t know that.” My mouth agape. How much had I missed about Nana while I was away in California?”

  “For a short time, she didn’t like a lot of the ladies,” Laney sipped her coffee.

  “How about tomorrow night?” Ava had opened her phone to check her calendar.

  “I have class.”

  “The night after that?” Ava ate another bite of my burger.

  “That works for me,” I said.

  “Me, too.”

  “So, Operation Sneak-Into-Nana’s-House is underway,” Ava held out her hand, and I placed mine on top, and then Laney.

  We were going to get some answers. It was dark when we left the restaurant. I walked back to my truck when I saw Dr. Hawthorne leaving Crooked Spoons.

  “How are you, Sidney?” He called out to me.

  I walked over to him on the street in front of Frank’s Fine Frames. “I’m fine.”

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” He gestured with his head back at the coffee shop.

  I waved my hand dismissively. “No, thank you. Caffeine would keep me up all night.”

  “I look forward to reading your premise,” Dr. Hawthorne said.

  “I hope you like it.” I lied through my teeth. I hadn’t even started.

  “Sometimes, it’s hard to start writing after you haven’t written in a while. I find that tapping into your feelings and seeing them through the eyes of your main character or your villain is helpful.”

  “That’s true.”

  I could write about a vengeful girlfriend, who goes after her thief and betrayer of a boyfriend.

  "However, I'm having a hard, difficult time resonating with my villain. I think of him like pond scum."

  Dr. Hawthorne laughed, revealing long canine teeth. Normally, he didn't smile. I tried not to stare, but I swear, when he saw me looking at his mouth, his teeth receded into his gums.

  I rubbed my temple. “I need to go home. I started a new job, today, and I’m tired.”

  “Get some rest, and I’ll see you in class, tomorrow night.”

  I jumped into my truck, and I saw Rudolph Clover step out of his statue and in my driver’s side mirror, the ghost sat down next to Dr. Hawthorne on the bench.

  There are vampires in Cloverville. You will see the evidence. Rudolph had said to me the day before.

  “No way. No way.” I pounded my steering wheel. “Dr. Hawthorne can’t be a vampire.”

  Thirteen

  At home, I attempted to work on my premise. Nada. Nothing. My mind went blank. Crickets chirped from my brain cells. I tapped my pen against my legal pad of paper.

  Was my writing teacher a vampire? What else lived in Cloverville?

  I researched the internet for information on the poltergeist party girls. I studied them in the photo they'd given me. My eyes burned with strain and lack of sleep. I stretched and walked away from my computer.

  I needed an eyeball break. I laid down on my bed. Something jumped next to me. “What the heck?”

  A purring Snowball materialized. I hoped the mini glass mirror ball orbs didn’t appear. The white cat batted at me, but her paw went through my hand.

  “How did you get here?” I wished I could pet her.

  Jason said the sorority sisters somehow connected to me, and I could help them cross over to wherever our souls go after we die. To the Bright Side. To the Void. Stay here.

  Nana would've done the same, despite her rules. She must have helped ghosts crossover and find peace in the light, but never told me about it. Nana had been too kind not to help a ghost in need. She always helped the homeless and other folks that needed a helping hand. An ache swelled in my chest. How I missed her.

  “Will you go with them if they go to the Bright Side?” I asked the cat.

  Snowball tucked her paws under her chin and closed her eyes, purring louder.

  Everything I've read about the sorority sisters disappearance pointed to murder. An old hobo came up as the primary suspect, but he was later released. All of the girls' friends had alibis, but to me, it all smelled of a cover-up. The boyfriends had been suspects but had been cleared.

  While Snowball purred contentedly on the bed, I went back to my laptop and opened up the free screenwriting software I’d downloaded and wrote my title: Poltergeist Party Girls.

  What happened next? No idea.

  I studied the black and white photo of the girls I placed on my desk. They seemed like normal girls with families who loved them. They had dreams. Had loved ones.

  Dr. Hawthorne said to work through the main character or villain’s emotions. How did Alice Hartley feel when Jeannie stole Fred Barnes?

  Tapping into my emotions concerning Camden, I would be pissed. Fresh anger and hate flowed through me. I let my imagination flow as I thought about my character, watching her boyfriend.

  I would set my screenplay in modern times, but some elements were the same including a neurotic ghost from the turn of the nineteenth century.

  Snowball lifted her head and sniffed. She was like a living cat, except I was able to see through her body, she glowed and walked through walls.

  “What is it?”

  Snowball jumped off the bed and rushed across the hardwood floors to underneath the window. Her tail bushed out like an electrical ectoplasm charge hit her.

  I scooted my desk chair back, rose, and walked over to my window. Very dark. We live in a rural area on a dirt road with very few houses in-between. We had one light across the street, surrounded by overgrown Leyland cypresses. I scanned the area for anything suspicious and supernatural.

  Nothing. My heart thumped with wild beats. Could the cloaked figure be floating around?

  Snowball jumped onto the window sill and growled, her ears pressed back across her head.

  An unease filled me. Something or someone loomed nearby. I peeked out the window once more, and caught someone's shadow as the unknown person walked between two of the Leyland cypresses.

  I backed away. Damn! Someone watched the house.

  My phone buzzed. When I touched it, chill bumps erupted on my arms. Did I want to see the message?

  Snowball jumped down from the window ledge and hopped back onto the bed. She swished her tail in agitation as I thumbed my phone.

  Don’t return to the sorority, or you will join the poltergeist party girls in their damnation.

  I dropped my phone to the floor as if I held a poisonous snake. I turned to face the window but didn't see anything other than darkness. Lightning flashed in the distance. Storms were moving into the night. Was a ghost texting me?

  Around two in the morning, I finally fell asleep, but the dream started immediately.

  I was back inside the sorority house and floated near the ceiling.

  The three sorority sisters huddled together in a bedroom.

  “What are we looking for, Mary?” Kara Ross asked.

  “I don’t know. I feel this evil energy in here." Mary rubbed her hands up and down her shoulders.

  The room was neat. A white cotton crocheted spread covered the bed. A Monet-like painting of flowers hung on the wall.

  “What if she finds us?” Kara asked.

  “We have to hurry," Mary replied.

  Jeannie Powell stood at the doorway and looked back, and then back at her friends. "Hurry up. You two discuss this later, look for it."<
br />
  Mary searched through a dark wood chest. “I think it’s in here.” She took out a thick leather book and began thumbing through it.

  Kara rummaged through a nightstand, and she removed a black candle and a long slender silver knife. "Here it is."

  “What is that? Her journal?” Jeannie asked.

  “No. It’s a book of spells and curses." Mary glanced up “I knew it. She’s into black magic. We need to be careful.”

  Jeannie waved at them. “Put it back. I hear noises.”

  Mary shoved the book back into the chest. Kara slipped the candle and the knife back into the drawer.

  They ran up the hall.

  Silence hung in the room.

  A few minutes later, the door opened, but I couldn’t see the person in the doorway. Anger burned through the girl who entered. She would kill them for violating her personal space.

  I woke up, and sweat dripped down my forehead.

  The killer was a woman bent on vengeance. Gotcha’ Alice Hartley. Now, all I had to do was find the evidence to convict her for the murders of the sorority sisters and Dr. Ingrid Smith.

  The next morning I sat down on the bench in front of Rudolph Clover’s statue, and I pretended to be writing in my notebook. Storm clouds hung low. A chilly mist clung to the air from last night’s rain. Four crows watched me from atop Birdie’s Café. I ignored them.

  Rudolph stepped out and sat down beside me. He didn't emit a bone-chilling cold like Emma and the sorority sisters. Instead, he radiated heat and light. This physical reaction had to be one difference between spirits of the light and the void.

  “Good Morning, Sidney.” He bowed at the waist and then sat down on the bench next to me.

  “Good Morning. I’m meeting Jason here this morning.”

  Rudolph arched an eyebrow. “Indeed. How interesting?”

  “Do you think he sees you?”

  “I think he feels my presence. His abilities could be growing in reaction to the situation in Cloverville.”

  For some reason, I didn’t find that last statement comforting. I’d ignore it. “We’re going to speak with Dr. Smith.”