Secrets of the Specter

A sudden flash of white drew my gaze to the center of the road. There stood a woman wearing an old-fashioned nightgown. She stared at me without emotion and also without making any attempt to get out of my way.

I jerked my steering wheel toward the right as hard as I could, locking the wheels as my car hydroplaned across the street and into the empty forest beyond. Panic flooded my chest as I pumped my brakes like my life depended on it. Somehow, I managed to stop mere inches from ramming my grill into a giant aged tree.

But had I hit the woman? I didn’t think so. Still, I needed to be sure.

“I’ll be right back!” I shouted to Mr. Cat, adrenaline flying through my veins as I tore off my seatbelt and journeyed without cover into the storm.

“Are you okay?” a man in a blue minivan yelled while his wife fiddled with her phone beside him.

“I’m calling 9-1-1,” she informed me with a nod. “It will be all right.”

“Did you see the woman? Is she okay?” I pleaded, practically in tears as I searched for her in the darkness.

“What woman?” the man asked. “We only saw you. There weren’t any other cars.”

“She wasn’t in a car,” I explained breathlessly. “She was standing in the middle of the road. I swerved to avoid hitting her.”

The man’s jaw hung open as he studied me. “No, there was no one else. I’m at least sure of that much.”

His wife finished her call and said, “An ambulance will be here soon, honey. We’ll wait with you until they get here.”

“Come out of the rain,” the man said, opening the back door with the push of a button.

A curious tween regarded me with a smile as I climbed in. “That was so cool,” he said.

“Billy!” his mother cried. “She could have gotten seriously injured.”

I was fine, but I still didn’t understand how this family had missed seeing the woman in white.

The paramedics arrived about ten minutes later to check me out, and when they did, the helpful little family in the blue minivan continued on their way.

“There’s not a scratch on you,” the EMT in charge said. “Wow, you were lucky.”

Lucky wasn’t the word I would’ve used for running my car off the road—and apparently seeing things that weren’t there to boot—but at least his appraisal meant I could go on with my day sans a stop off at the hospital.

When I returned to my car, I was amazed to find that it still ran perfectly. Other than a few scrapes on the paint, no damage had been done. Unfortunately, Mr. Cat had managed to sneak away while I was preoccupied with everything else.

I murmured a quick prayer that the Lord would keep him safe in the storm, then began the drive back to Historic Row just as carefully as I could go.

Once again, I’d lost sight of Mr. Kitty, but—boy—did I have a story to share with the book club today!

CHAPTER THREE

After all the excitement of my failed journey to the veterinary clinic, the last thing I wanted to do was head back to Colonial Candles where I would inevitably have to bide my time sans customers as I waited out the remainder of the storm. Maybe I could close shop and head home early since it was rather unlikely both that the rain would be stopping and that customers would be venturing out in it.

As tired and shaken as I now was, I had half a mind to skip checking in at the shop altogether. Unfortunately, I had to lock up before leaving for the day, and Aunt Linda would have my head if I even dared to ask Lacey to do it for me.

Realizing I was stuck, I eventually made it back to the Row, where I parked behind the shop and walked around, the rain having slacked off just a little. Not enough to give me any renewed hope for the day, though.

When I walked into my family’s shop, I found Otto from the deli and Jeremy, the owner of the used bookstore, curled up on beanbags spread around the store. Lacey had drifted off to sleep on a beanbag of her own with an open paperback slack against her chest.

“At long last, the prodigal shopkeeper returns,” Otto commented with a sly grin as he studied me from his spot near the floor. “You couldn’t expect us to hold down the fort all day when we have businesses of our own to run. Wait, aren’t you supposed to have a cat with you?”

Lacey gasped suddenly and jerked upright. “Oh, Mags, you’ll never believe what I was just dreaming about…” She glanced around the storefront then blushed and shot Otto a surreptitious look. “Oh, um, never mind.”

Normally I’d have loved to listen to Lacey recount every sordid detail of her naptime dreams and waking adventures, too, but at this point I just wanted to get home as fast as I possibly could.

Both men’s eyes flicked from me to Lacey and back again.

She turned an awkward shade of pink, then motioned for me to go ahead and answer Otto’s inquiry.

I took a deep breath, feeling my shoulders rise then slump back down again. Then I let it all out. “I almost wrecked my car. A passing family stopped to call an ambulance, but I was fine. I could have sworn I ran into a woman standing in the street, but nobody else saw her. Oh, and while all this was happening, the cat ran away.” Having finished my explanation, I sucked in a deep breath and held it inside for a moment before letting it go again.

“What woman?” Jeremy asked for the group. He always was the intellectual one out of our bunch of shop owners, so of course he’d focus on the mystery aspect and not the me-getting-in-a-possibly-fatal-accident aspect. “Who? Where? Are you sure you weren’t just seeing thing?”

Never one to disappoint—no matter how badly I wanted to get out of there—I regaled my colleagues with the tale of mystery surrounding my odd afternoon.

Their eyes went wide, and jaws became slack as I laid out every last detail.

“And now I’m back here,” I concluded once I’d run out of facts to share. “No cat, no mysterious lady, and nothing more than an interesting tale to tell.”

By then, I’d spent so much time gabbing away that there was no point in me trying to close up early that day. And so the four of us got back to the business of sitting around and enjoying the rainy day—candlelight, company, camaraderie. Even some hand-spun cotton-candy Lacey brought over from her shop to share with the rest of us.

By the time quitting time rolled around, the rain had slowed to a lazy drizzle. And the drive home was far easier than my disastrous earlier attempt to take Mr. Cat to the clinic. I made the trip in ten minutes flat then hurried inside to unwind.

The sound of the rain pinging against my metal roof instantly brought my stress level back to baseline. When the time had come to replace the roof on my old Victorian style home, the decision to go with metal had been all too easy. What? I needed to spend all that sweet, sweet influencer money somewhere—and as it was, I didn’t need a lot to be happy in life.

After changing out of my damp clothes and into my comfiest leggings and an oversized sleep shirt, I made a giant cup of cocoa and curled up underneath the world’s softest blanket.

Ahh. This was the life. I pulled out my phone and hit the button to dial my favorite cousin on speaker. No answer. “Hey, Ang,” I said in a sing-song voice to her voicemail. “Just checking in to see how you are. How did the meeting with that hotshot client go? Call me back.”

With a sigh, I disconnected and burrowed deeper beneath my fuzzy fleece blanket, keeping my hands out so that I could operate the remote control while raising the steaming mug to my lips.

Mmmm.

I clicked to my current binge-watch and settled in for a couple episodes until hunger drove me into the kitchen.

After an ample dinner comprised of a small salad and a couple oversized slices of pizza, I decided to move the party to my bed. I didn’t want to stay up too late and be all cranky and groggy at the shop tomorrow. Because what if tomorrow was the day I finally met a customer who wanted to hear my whole life’s story?

As I picked up around the house, I hummed a peppy tune to myself. I liked to spend ten minutes before bed each day tidying. That kept the mess from ever getting too out of control, something my Aunt Linda greatly appreciated. I had to keep her happy somehow since she was constantly picking on me about my eating habits and how I won’t stay young and beautiful with a forgiving metabolism forever.

I chuckled to myself, then paused when I heard a tapping noise from somewhere deeper within the house.

Huh? What was that?

I stood stock-still as I glanced about the living room. Nothing out of place.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

I shrugged and went back to work, but then the sound met my ears again. It wasn’t tapping, but rather scratching.

I froze and peered around the room suspiciously while my stomach somersaulted and tied itself in loose knots.

Could it be a mouse? Surely not.

Rather than going back to it, I waited a bit longer, and my patience paid off.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

There it was again, and this time I knew it was coming from the front door.

“Hello?” I called out, but no reply came.

Slowly, I padded toward the door. “Hello?” I whispered.

Even though Larkhaven was a lovely little town, I still needed to be careful, living by myself as a single woman. My windows always stayed locked, and I had three locks on my front door. Plus a state-of-the-art alarm system.

I peeped through the narrow window beside the door. I used to worry about someone breaking in through this little window, but they’d have to bring a child with them to even reach through it properly. I was safe on that count, but still didn’t know what I might find waiting outside for me now.

As far as I could tell, there wasn’t anyone on my porch. I flicked on the porch light and surveyed the scene once more. That did it.

“Mr. Cat!” I exclaimed, rushing to unlock the door. I stood with the door open, bewildered to see him here at my house.

How had he found me? And why?

I’d last seen him on the long road out of town. It was at least a twenty-minute drive from here, yet somehow, he’d walked it?

Why was he so attached to me? Why did he keep running away only to trek right on back?

The piercing sound of my alarm screeched, shattering the quiet of the night. In my haste to let Mr. Cat in, I’d failed to disengage the system. Oops.

Mr. Cat jumped to his feet, fluffing up his fur like a solid-white pufferfish. With a yowl and a hiss, he bolted into the house and slid straight under my couch for cover—and here I’d thought he’d be leaving me again. Instead, it looked like he’d be moving in.

“Okay, dude. Hang on.” I punched in my code to silence the alarm, then turned to find the puddy peering out from the darkness. His strange, mesmerizing eyes locked with mine, but I found them impossible to read. “

Come out, baby,” I said in my softest, sweetest voice. “I won’t hurt you. But I do want to get you dried off. You must be freezing.”

Crouching with a big bath towel in my hands, I offered smoochies and sps-sps sounds until he crept out and let me run the towel over his drenched fur. “Are you hungry, little man? I’ve got some tuna you might like.”

He purred, his whole body vibrating with the sound.

I kept rubbing the towel back and forth over his luxuriously soft fur. “If I didn’t think you’d freak out, I’d turn the blow dryer on you. Can’t beat warmth like that.”

Mr. Cat glanced up at me and meowed.

“Maybe you wouldn’t mind?” I chanced leaving him alone in the living room and hurried to my bathroom to snatch my blow-dryer from the counter.

“Here we go,” I cooed upon returning. “I’m going to do this slowly. Trust me on this, okay?”

I turned the little machine on and waited for my fluffy new friend’s reaction.

Mr. Cat didn’t move; he just watched me intently with his fascinating mismatched eyes.

The noise of the dryer didn’t seem to scare him. A bit odd for a cat, but somehow, I’d sensed that this guy was made of stronger stuff. It would take something far more menacing than a common household appliance to scare him off.

“Okay, then,” I whispered, keeping my voice steady and soft. “I’m going to come a bit closer.”

I crept forward a few feet, thanking the blow dryer-gods that the cord was extra-long. “Still good?”

The white cat stared at me, gave me one long blink, and meowed.

“Excellent.” From a few feet away, I turned the airflow toward Mr. Cat, then when he didn’t react, I inched closer and closer until the air blew his fur, drying the thick layers quickly and easily.

He didn’t like it when I let it blow up his back, making his fur stand straight on end. He told me with a sharp grunt.

I adjusted the angle and let it blow down his spine, which just seemed to be just right for the both of us.

After a few minutes, Mr. Cat stood, shook himself out, and walked serenely out of the living room, in the direction of the kitchen.

Well. Okay, then.

I shut off the dryer and followed him. “You hungry?”

Meow.

As soon as I set a bowl of tuna in front of the white wonder, he dug in, but he did so quite politely. He picked up the pieces of fish delicately between his teeth, leaving no room for juice to dribble down onto his pristine alabaster coat.

“Okay, sir.” I set a bowl of water beside him. “We’ll try going back to the vet tomorrow. I don’t have a litter box for you, so please don’t pee in my house, okay?” With that thought, I shuddered. There was nothing for it, though.

I peered out the kitchen window at the drizzle reflected in the streetlight. No way I was going out in this mess. Besides, the vet probably wasn’t open at this hour, anyway.

Leaving my tidying for now, I finished getting ready for bed, then walked into my bedroom to find Mr. Cat sitting at the foot of my bed.

“That’s fine, kitty, as long as you don’t use the bathroom on my bed. Then we’ll have trouble.”

I burrowed under the covers and fell asleep quickly and easily, same as always. Except something nudged me from my sleep partway between midnight and dawn.

I was generally a pretty solid sleeper, but I also wasn’t used to having a strange cat creep around my bedroom while I slept.

I yawned and pulled the covers up to my chin. The temperature in the room had dropped by at least ten degrees. What in the world?

More scratching. Huh. I’d left the door open so that Mr. Cat would have free roam of the house.

Slowly, I lifted my head, willing my eyes to adjust quickly to the dim light cast on the room by my alarm clock. And little by little, all the familiar shapes of my furniture began to appear.

Dresser.

Nightstand.

TV.

And something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

A stranger standing at the end of my bed.

I sat bolt upright, a squeak erupting from my lungs as I clutched the blankets to my chest.

No, this wasn’t a stranger. At least not completely. This was the same woman I’d almost run over earlier that evening.

Except, this was no woman. This was not even a person. Well, not a living one.

I was looking at a one-hundred percent legitimate, bonafide ghost. I don’t know how I knew that, just that I did.

My nocturnal visitor had her hair up in a bonnet, and she wore a long, old-fashioned dress. A white one.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I begged, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle of said specter.

Oh, please let this be a dream. Please, please, please.

CHAPTER FOUR

As soon as I managed to form words, Mr. Cat jumped off the bed with a growl. I didn’t pay him much attention, though. I was too focused on the ghost staring me down from the foot of my bed.

I didn’t know whether to duck under the covers in an attempt to hide or to make a run for it. My fight or flight response must have been broken because what I actually did wouldn’t have satisfied either of them.

Scrambling to my feet, I clasped my hands close to my chest and stared at the woman with wide, unblinking eyes.

She was here and yet… not.

Her entire image appeared wavy and flat, washed-out like someone had put a transparency filter on her in a photo editor. A weird ethereal light emitted from her chest, enabling me to see her clearly in the dark room but also making it hard to focus on any of her features.

“Uh… What are…? I mean… Hmm.” I fumbled for something to say. I wasn’t frightened, exactly. More like startled out of my wits.

My voice trembled a little as I asked, “Can I help you?”

She cocked her head and moved a bit closer, just by a few inches, but enough to make me squeal and back up, thus hitting the back of my legs on the bedside table.

Okay, maybe I was a little scared. But, hey, you would have been, too.

“Hold it right there,” I yelped, thrusting my hands out before me like that would do any good when confronted with a incorporeal foe.

To my shock, the ghost actually did stop, regarding me with a piteous look.

I let out a slow, shaky breath. “Okay. Who are you? What do you want? Why are you here?” The questions spilled from my lips. I had so much more I wanted to know, but these seemed like the right ones to start with.

The spirit extended a hand toward me.

I glanced down, not wanting to remove my eyes from her for long. There was something in her hand.

My eyes zoomed back to her face. “What is it?”

Mr. Cat meowed, pulling my attention for a split second. “Why aren’t you freaked out, kitty?” I asked, aghast. “I thought cats were supposed to be all jumpy and stuff.”

He pressed against my hand and purred.

“Do you trust her?” I questioned without looking at him directly this time.

From my peripheral vision, I spied him walking across the bed and sitting in front of the specter. “Ohhh-kay. I guess you do.”

First this weird cat became my shadow, then a ghost shows up with some kind of gift for me. That couldn’t be a coincidence, right?

Well, so far, the cat hadn’t hurt me. Maybe I could trust his other-worldly friend, too.

I lowered my gaze again, forcing myself to divert my attention long enough to discern the object in her hand.

A folded piece of paper. Huh.

Mr. Cat crept forward and plopped himself down onto the hardwood floor. Now he wasn’t sitting in front of the ghost. He was sitting inside her. How was any of this even possible?

I sucked in another lungful of air, then held my breath, shuffling closer until I was within arm’s reach.