southern ghost hunters 02 - skeleton in the closet (24 page)

Poor Josephine seemed caught in the middle.

"At least I don't see any evidence of a live killer up here," Ellis muttered, not comforting me in the least. 

But he was right. We saw no other cars, no signs of life.

Frankie would be able to tell us more. "Hey buddy," I said, taking the urn from my bag. Come on. He had to have some energy left. "Frankie," I asked. 

When that didn't work, I tapped at the urn. That would surely get a rise from him. I could hear him now:
There ain't no doorbell, sweetheart.

The ghost didn't answer. 

He might have gotten ungrounded and split, although I still had the urn. At least some of him was still with me. I rattled it a bit, and felt the ash inside shift. Maybe it wasn't enough to keep him around.

I shared a glance with Ellis over the glowing lights of the dash, trying not to let my disappointment show. "Maybe he wants to stay with Maisie." I'd rather not think of the alternative.

He gave a sharp nod. "Right," he said, pushing his door open. 

I joined him outside. The Hatcher place stood dark and foreboding. I saw no light in Josephine's window, no sign of Ma. It was as if the house itself held its breath, waiting for us to make our move.

Ellis clicked on his police-issue Maglite and I fired up my dollar store cheapo. If we could pull this off, if we could make this quick, I promised myself I'd never set foot in that place again.

The bare trees stirred as we made our way to the front door.

"Josephine?" I whispered. 

Maybe I could spot her on my own. Lots of people had seen a candle glowing in her window. But tonight, it remained empty.

Ellis hung close to me. "Is she gone?"

"Seems so." I hadn't even realized she might want to leave. But she would have given me a sign if she were here. We were friends. Sort of.

Ellis took the lead as we approached the house, and I'm not ashamed to say I let him. I watched the darkened windows, looking for any sign of life…or afterlife. 

He closed his hand over the front doorknob and the house let out a low, chilling groan.

"Jesus!" He jumped back. "Has it done that before?"

"No," I said, my voice an octave higher than it should be.

He steeled himself and reached for the knob again. This time, the door opened easily. 

"So far, so good," he muttered.

I didn't trust my voice to respond.

The inside lay dark. Goose bumps shot up my arms the second I stepped through the entryway. The temperature had plunged at least twenty degrees in the span of two feet. I could see my breath as I struggled to stay calm. I'd been inside this house before. Once. With Frankie, who had helped fend off Ma when she attacked. But he wasn't with me now.

Stay calm.

The walls crackled as Ellis nudged the door closed behind us.

It felt as if the house itself wanted to spit us back out into the yard.

Believe me, we'd go. I'd be out of here in a red-hot second as soon as I closed my hands on that Bible.

"Where is it?" Ellis asked. 

His light illuminated the rectangular first floor, its rough wood walls tangled with thick cobwebs near the ceiling and floors. They trailed over a broken table toward a cold fireplace hearth, streaked with soot. 

"Um." It occurred to me that I hadn't let him in on that one important detail. His flashlight beam caught the rickety staircase leading to the second floor. "I don't know exactly
where
to find the Bible. I'm just pretty sure it's here." 

"You gotta be kidding me," he muttered. His Adam's apple bobbed as a small breeze stirred his hair—one that should
not
have been there because we were shut completely in the house.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I could swear I felt someone behind me.

Cold breath tickled my skin, hovered near the curl of my right ear. I froze. "Josephine?" I whispered, hoping against hope. Darkness curled in my stomach. She didn't answer. 

Floating lights danced in the fireplace. "You see that?" Ellis hissed, pointing as the ashes under the old iron log holder caught fire.

"Oh yes," I said. I saw it. Without any help at all. We needed to run. Instead, I urged him deeper into the room. "It's not in the fireplace."

His arm was stiff under my hand, and he resisted my tug. "We don't know until we check it out." I held on to him tight, so glad to have him in here with me. "It's trying to chase us away," he whispered. "Whatever is the scariest room in the house, that's where we need to go."

At that exact moment, a low growl pierced the air. It came from the second floor.

"Now that could be something," I said.

Ellis squared his shoulders. "Okay." He took my hand and together we walked toward the stairs. The snarl intensified, halting us in our tracks at the bottom. "This is good," he said, shining his light up as we began our ascent. 

"The best," I agreed, ignoring the shaking of the stairs. I heard the low
whump-whump-whump
of an object rolling toward us on the landing above.

"Bowling ball?" Ellis guessed, startling slightly as the object crashed down on the uppermost stair. 

I was thinking more like
cannonball
. "You hear it?" I could have sworn it was on the ghostly plane. My light showed nothing. I braced myself. 

Ma Hatcher had gathered enough power to try to scare the bejesus out of Ellis and me. The question was whether the poltergeist had harnessed enough rage to hurt us.  

"Get ready to run," I urged, as the heavy object rolled down to the next step, and the next, slamming into the wood, echoing hard, coming straight at us as we stepped up one more stair, and another, and another. "Steady." I held my breath, ready to bolt. 

The sound ceased.

Oh, boy. "Let's just…" I began.

"Yeah," Ellis said. Together, we raced up to the second-story landing. 

This was it. We were officially out of our minds.

The landing stood dark, eerie.

Ellis let out a harsh breath. "Is this what it's always like for you?"

"No," I said, shining my light over the faded wallpaper. "When Frankie helps, I see things like he does. Everything is illuminated in tones of silver and gray. Places appear the way the dominant ghost on the property sees them. This is like walking in blind."

I stood in a narrow hallway, a long stretch of wall broken apart by three solid doors. We had no idea which way to go, but I had a sinking feeling we'd learn soon enough.

Ellis and I stood deathly still, hands in a firm grip. Waiting.

A low cackle sounded from the door on the far right end. The hair on my arms prickled and my heart slammed hard in my chest.

"That's Josephine's room," I whispered.

We advanced on it. "You think that's her?"

"No." Whatever rustled inside was dark, evil. This was Ma Hatcher's doing, not her daughter's. 

We still hadn't seen any sign of Josephine or her dog, Fritz. I hoped they were all right.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Hot, prickling energy inched over me like a swarm of ants. I resisted the urge to scratch. It wouldn't help, and I refused to give the spirit the satisfaction. "This is definitely the worst room in the house." 

Yay for us.

Ellis's grip on my hand tightened. "No. That is."

He shone his light toward the closet. The wooden door was bent, charred, and blackened around the edges, as if an evil energy had sealed it closed. I let out a gasp as the door began to rattle on its hinges.

He pressed forward. "I'll open it. You cover me."

"I'm the ghost hunter," I said, pressing past him, closing my hand over the ice-cold knob before I lost my nerve. It sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the frigid temperature inside the house. This was it. I could feel the spirit of Ma Hatcher grasping, snarling as it clamored for me
not
to touch that door.

I swung it open.

Inside the closet, on the dusty wood floor, sprawled the body of a man. 

His skull stared up at me, the front shattered. He wore the tattered remains of a gray uniform and his bony hands clutched a Bible. A single-shot revolver lay at his side. 

I sucked in a breath. "I think we found Pa."

Chapter Twenty-Three

W
ARM
BREATH
GHOSTED
over the back of my neck. For a second, I thought it was Ellis. Then I realized Ma Hatcher stood next to me. Her cold, gravelly voice chilled my skin. "Get. Out."

She was a fully formed ghostly presence. I could see her without Frankie's help. Which meant she was right there with us. I turned quickly and stared straight into her burning red eyes. The closet door slammed closed, nearly striking me.

Ellis stood nearby, stiff with shock. The ghost loomed over us, completely manifested. Livid. She grabbed for my neck, hot energy radiating off her. 

"Move!" Ellis seized me at the last second and we headed for the stairway.

"Not yet." I broke from his grasp and ran back to the closet. This time the knob burned hot in my hand. We had to get that Bible.

Ma hissed and reached for me.

Ellis swore. "Over here!" he hollered from near the window. He ducked as the phantom shot a blinding stream of energy straight for him. I could see it. Feel it. Like lightning in a bottle.

The poltergeist was firing off pure rage. 

It was also missing its legs below the knees. 

If we played this right, we could use it to our advantage.

First, I had to be sure. "Did she have legs before?" I pleaded. I tried to remember what she'd looked like when she trapped me in the grave outside. Her dress had swirled down to the ground, hadn't it? I couldn't be sure.

Ellis looked at me like I was nuts. "How the hell should I know?" 

"Get out!" the phantom screamed as she fired another round. Ellis didn't move quick enough. He let out a cry of pain and went down hard.

Oh my God. "Ellis!"

His teeth chattered and he shook all over as if he'd been hit with an electric charge.

I realized with a start that Ma had lost her legs completely. Ellis stared at me through the poltergeist, understanding dawning in his eyes. 

"Over here!" I called, trying to draw her off, but she'd homed in on him.

He rolled sideways as she fired a hot blast of energy. He barely cleared it. The room shook as the wall absorbed the impact.

She lost her hips. 

"Oh my God. Ellis." I didn't know what to do. The poltergeist was going down a lot faster than Frankie did when he lent me his energy. I had to think it was because she was sending out direct, devastating shots of energy while manifesting on the mortal plane. 

She controlled more energy than I'd ever seen a ghost—even a poltergeist—handle before. And she aimed it straight at Ellis.  

"We'll go!" I protested. "Just leave him alone!"

She glared at me over her shoulder. "Even my husband regretted it in the end," she snarled, "but a secret's a secret."

I could actually see the energy leave her hands as she fired at Ellis, scoring a direct hit. His body seized. I stared in horror. The room smelled of burned hair and flesh.

"Josephine!" I screamed for my friend, the only person I could think of who might be able to help us.

Ma hissed and sent a heavy stream of hate my way. I dropped to the floor. 

Heat sizzled the air above me, charging it, making my hair stand on end. It hurt to breathe.

Ellis didn't move. There was no way I could get around the ghost to help him, unless I went straight through her mostly missing body. Were her legs still there, even though I couldn't see them?

I had to risk it. I couldn't let Ellis take another shot. It would kill him.

She reared, ready to attack as I rushed for Ellis, scrambling headlong underneath the ghost. 

I made it.

He looked awful. I grabbed his limp body, shoving it back against the wall, yanking my hands away when I felt the energy hit.

My muscles seized; my mind blanked with pain and rage. I felt the shock of it like a thousand volts. 

"Silly girl." She loomed over me, now just a disembodied head, her face pinched with rage. "Don't you know they always betray you in the end?"

Her ghastly features twisted as she gathered the energy to for what could very well be a death blow. I screamed. I didn't think I could take another hit. She must not either, because she shot me a feral grin.

A red spark rippled up her neck and zipped straight through her head before I heard a pop, like a burned-out lightbulb.

Ma Hatcher had disappeared.

The room grew strangely quiet, the dark overwhelming. I panted hard, not even sure when I'd stopped screaming. Ellis didn't stir. I didn't even know if he was still breathing.

My light shone on the floor a few feet from me and I scrambled to retrieve it. 

"Ellis, can you hear me?" I asked, my voice hoarse. I knew better than to ask if he was all right. He wasn't. "I think the ghost is gone."

Ellis lay on his side, a hand over his eyes. "You're the expert," he said on a groan.

He was alive and conscious. "Thank God." I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

His eyes remained closed. "This is not a date."

"No," I said, a giddy laugh escaping. "How do you feel? Can you move?"

I helped him into a sitting position. "I can't even describe it," he said, working to recover.

"I understand." My muscles felt stiff, my body ached, yet I felt electric down to the core. As if the energy had welded itself to my very bones. She could have killed us both.

"I think we beat her," I said, searching the room for any sign of the poltergeist. "For now."

That said, we needed to get out of here before she regained her energy and came back. I had no idea how long that would take.

Ellis retrieved his Maglite from the floor. He appeared shaky, but determined. "Help me stand. We need to take another look at that skeleton in the closet."

We did. And a few minutes later, after a bit of struggling with the door, Ellis shone his beam down on the body of Pa Hatcher.