Breed Page 11

  She walked back to the counter and picked up the incense sticks. “Do you have any ashtrays?”

  “I have one in the living room,” Ssabra replied.

  “Just one?” Barbara shook her head. “Not nearly enough. We’ll need more than that. How about saucers, or plates? Do you have any of those?”

  “I have some in the cabinet. Not many.”

  Barbara rubbed her hands together. “Good. Get what you have. We need to place the candles and incense around the room.”

  Ssabra crossed the kitchen and opened her cabinets, searching for plates and saucers they could use. Claire also started looking through the cabinets, although she confined her search to the places where food was kept.

  “MMMMM...cinnamon Pop Tarts. My favorite.” She grabbed a package of foil-wrapped Pop Tarts out of the box. “Do you mind if I have one?”

  Ssabra started to reply, but Barbara interrupted her, “Claire, put that back. No eating when I’m working.”

  Claire frowned, disappointed, but she put the Pop Tarts back into the cabinet. Ssabra finished collecting the plates and saucers, setting them in front of Barbara.

  “Good. Good.” The psychic nodded. She spread the plates and saucers out, setting a candle, or a stick of incense, on each of them. She then took each item and placed it in a specific spot in the apartment: one candle and one stick of incense in the bedroom, the same in the bathroom, two of each in the kitchen, with the rest scattered around the living room. She lit each item as she set it down, saying a short prayer, and asking any and all spirits residing inside the tiny apartment to make their presence known.

  Returning to the kitchen, Barbara picked up the herbal smudge stick. The smudge stick was a combination of dried cedar and desert sage, held together with a wrapping of red string. Removing the string from one end of the bundle, she lit the stick and then blew out the flame so it would smoke, waving it back and forth in front of her.

  “Sage and cedar cleanses the air, takes all the negativity out of it. It also helps you stay in balance. American Indians use it in all their important ceremonies.”

  Ssabra wondered if the psychic was trying to impress her with a knowledge of Native cultures. Claire had probably told her that Ssabra was half Cherokee. Maybe it was something she did to get more money out of paying customers.

  She didn’t know if sage and cedar could really cleanse the air of any negativity, but it was definitely stinking up her kitchen. Ssabra held her breath, resisting the urge to cough, greatly relieved when Barbara finally took the smudge stick out from under her nose.

  After cleansing the three of them, Barbara took the smudge stick and slowly walked through the apartment, getting rid of any evil elements that might be hanging around. At least that’s what she said she was doing. Ssabra didn’t think she had any evil elements in her apartment. Then again, up until the previous day, she didn’t think she had any ghosts either.

  Barbara returned to the kitchen and set the smudge stick on the last empty saucer. “Now that I’ve gotten rid of the negativity in here, let’s see who your visitor might be. Follow me.”

  The psychic turned and walked back into the living room. She moved slowly, her arms out by her sides, palms facing down. It looked like she was moving through a field of tall wheat, feeling the tops of each plant. As she proceeded through the room, circling the furniture, she made comments to herself. “Ah yes, I feel something here. Definitely a presence of some kind. Someone has been in here, but I’m not sure who. Not yet.

  “Ssabra, come here and feel this. Here’s a cold spot. A spirit was just here.”

  She walked to the spot where Barbara was pointing, just left of the television, but didn’t feel anything. No cold spot. No tingling on the back of her neck. Nothing. “I don’t feel it.”

  “You’re not trying,” Barbara took Ssabra’s wrist and held her hand over a certain spot on the floor. “Here. How about now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re still not trying,” Barbara frowned. “What about you, Claire?”

  Claire hurried to the spot, nearly knocking Ssabra out of the way. “Yes, I feel it. It’s cold. Very cold. Almost freezing.”

  Barbara favored her niece with a smile. “There. See? I told you. Just like I said, it’s a cold spot. Your friend must not be very gifted. Psychic abilities do run in our family.”

  Ssabra bit her tongue to keep from saying anything. Claire absolutely beamed over the compliment she had been given.

  Moving away from the television set, Barbara continued with her psychic detective work. She circled around the living room, touching various items of furniture and feeling along the wall. Twice she stopped and stood perfectly still, her eyes closed and her head tilted to one side, as if listening to something only she could her, perhaps hearing a voice calling to her from the great beyond.

  She entered the bedroom, but didn’t stay in there long, declaring that there had been no visitors in the bedroom. Ssabra almost laughed. She could have told the psychic there had been no visitors in her bedroom, or in her bed, for a long time. She had been without a man in her life since Alan had been killed. At first she had been alone by choice, mourning the loss of the man she loved. But even after the wounds had started to heal, she still found herself alone. It had been years since she dated, and she was a little afraid to put herself back into the game. Nope. No visitors in the bedroom, spiritual or otherwise.

  Barbara left the bedroom and proceeded to the bathroom. She spent a few minutes inside the tiny room, turning on the water in the sink and tub, and feeling along the wall. She was just about to leave, when she suddenly turned and faced the bathroom mirror.

  “Here. I feel it. There’s a very strong presence in this room.”

  Ssabra felt the breath catch in her throat.

  “Right here. Where I’m standing. There’s something about this mirror. I see letters. A word. Something is written on the mirror.”

  Ssabra’s heart began to race. She stepped forward to get a better look, thinking the strange word had once again appeared on the mirror, but the glass was blank. The psychic was obviously seeing something that was invisible to the mundane.

  “Yes. Yes. I see it,” the psychic continued. “A word. No. No. Not a word. A name. A spirit is trying to communicate with us. It’s giving us a name. Wait a minute. It’s getting clearer. Yes. There it is. Elizabeth. The spirit’s name is Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth? That wasn’t the word that had appeared on her bathroom mirror. The word she had seen was “osiyo”, not Elizabeth. A thought suddenly popped into her head; she turned to look at Claire.

  Claire had been eavesdropping on her phone conversation with Jenny that morning. And Jenny had even told Claire about the possible ghost, saying a word had appeared on the bathroom mirror. But she hadn’t said what word. Claire must have passed the information on to her aunt.

  Now Claire’s aunt was using what her niece had told her to put on a show. Claire hadn’t told her what the word was that had magically appeared on the glass, so Barbara was making up her own word. A name. A woman’s name.

  “It’s all coming through to me now,” Barbara continued, never missing a beat. “The name I see here is Elizabeth. It was left here by the spirit. She’s reaching out to us, trying to let us know who she is.”

  Barbara stepped out of the bathroom and looked around the living room. “Elizabeth, are you here? Are you here with us? Don’t be afraid. Come out and show yourself. We won’t hurt you.”

  The name Elizabeth had not appeared on the bathroom mirror, and Ssabra didn’t think it was the spirit of a woman they should be looking for. “Look, I don’t think--”

  “Shhhhh...be quiet,” Barbara warned, silencing her. “I see something. Over there, by the television. Something is forming.”

  “What it is?” Claire whispered.

  “It’s a figure,” answered the psychic, speaking in a whisper. “I see a little girl. She’s standing next to the television, in the same place
where I felt the cold spot. She’s very young, no more than six or seven years old, with long blonde hair. She’s dressed all in white, and she’s holding a bouquet of flowers.”

  “Where? I don’t see her.” Claire was obviously disappointed that she couldn’t see the little girl.

  “She’s still there, next to the television. She’s becoming more clear to me now. A lovely girl. Very pretty. There’s a radiance about her that hurts my eyes. She’s looking at us, and she’s smiling.”

  “Are you Elizabeth?” Barbara asked. She stood silent for a moment, then said, “The little girl is nodding. Her name is Elizabeth; she’s the one who wrote on the bathroom mirror.”

  Ssabra didn’t see anyone standing next to the television, and she had a sneaking suspicion that no one was really there, spirit or otherwise. She was beginning to suspect that Barbara Jaeger was making everything up, creating a ghostly story as she went along. Then again, maybe the self-proclaimed psychic actually believed she saw a little girl standing next to the television, even if what she saw might only be smoke from the burning incense and smudge stick.

  “Elizabeth, why are you here?” Barbara asked. She stood perfectly still, her head cocked to one side.

  “Can you hear her?” Claire whispered.

  Barbara nodded. “Yes, but her voice is very faint. Elizabeth says she died of the fever in 1821, and her body is buried in a mass grave at the Huguenot Cemetery. That’s where she met Ssabra. She saw Ssabra giving a ghost tour and decided to follow her home. Elizabeth says she likes the pretty lady, and wants to live with her. She promises she won’t cause any trouble. If that’s okay?”

  Ssabra was staring at the spot next to the television, so it took a few moments to realize the others were looking at her, apparently waiting for an answer.

  “Is it okay if Elizabeth stays here with you? Barbara asked, repeating the question. “She promises not to cause you any trouble.”

  “Here? With me? I don’t know. I guess. I mean, it’s a free country. Ghosts can live where they want. But why would she want to live with me? What about her parents? Why doesn’t she live with them?” Ssabra couldn’t believe she had just given permission for a ghost to move in with her.

  “Elizabeth says she can’t find her parents,” Barbara answered, apparently speaking for the ghost. “And yes, it’s a free country, but the good spirits always ask permission before moving in. By the way, they don’t like it when you call them ghosts. They prefer being called spirits.”

  “Spirits. Right. I’ll remember that.”

  Barbara turned her attention back to the spot across the room. “Elizabeth, Ssabra said you can stay here with her. Would that make you happy?”

  The psychic turned to look at the other two women. “Elizabeth is smiling. She’s very happy with the decision.”

  “That’s great. I’m thrilled,” Ssabra mumbled under her breath.

  “That’s super,” Claire said, bubbling with enthusiasm. “You have your own ghost. Wait until I tell everyone at work. Hey, maybe they will put your apartment on the ghost tour. Wouldn’t that be great? You’ll be a local celebrity.”

  Ssabra turned to face Claire, a frown forming. “Claire, there’s really no need to tell everyone about this. My apartment is too far away from the old section of the city to be put on the ghost tour. And I don’t want tourists and ghost hunters hanging around my front door.”

  “Oops, she’s gone,” Barbara said, interrupting the disagreement. “Elizabeth just faded out, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon. She like’s it here.”

  “Wonderful,” Ssabra said, somewhat sarcastically. “But I don’t have a spare bedroom, so Elizabeth will have to sleep on the couch.”

  Ssabra didn’t really believe she had the ghost of a little girl as a house guest. Instead, she thought the whole “Elizabeth” thing was part of a show being put on by the psychic, perhaps as a way to enhance her reputation. She had gotten the name wrong on the mirror, and the cold spot she had felt in the living room was not where anything strange had happened.

  Deciding it was time to clear out a few people, Ssabra said, “Barbara, I want to thank you and Claire for coming over. I really do appreciate the help. Now that I know my ghost, I mean spirit, is friendly, I feel a whole lot better. I know you both probably have very busy schedules, so I don’t want to keep you any longer.”

  “We were planning on going out for drinks after we got done,” Claire said. “You want to come along with us? We could talk about some of the other cases my aunt has worked on.”

  Ssabra shook her head. “No. No. That’s okay. Thank you for the invitation, but I think I’ll pass. I didn’t get much sleep the last few nights, what with the haunting and all that, so I think I’ll just stay home and turn in early. You guys go ahead, have yourselves a wonderful time.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” Claire responded.

  “I’m sure.”

  The three women chatted for a few more minutes, then Barbara started gathering up her things. She extinguished the incense and the smudge stick, putting them back in her bag, but she left the candles where they were, a gift for Elizabeth. Ssabra again thanked the women for everything, seeing them to the door. Locking the door behind them, she turned back around to face the room.

  Ssabra Onih was now more confused than ever. She still didn’t have an explanation for the strange things happening in her apartment. Barbara said the events were caused by the spirit of a little girl, but the psychic was wrong about the word that had appeared on the bathroom mirror. And it was a man’s voice she had heard at the Huguenot Cemetery, not that of a little girl.

  Walking back through the apartment, she extinguished all the candles. If Elizabeth did exist, then she would just have to get her own candles to play with. She also gathered up the plates and saucers, cleaning off the melted wax and ashes. Turning off the water in the kitchen sink, she suddenly remembered the water in the bathroom was still running.

  She hurried to turn off the water in the sink and tub, checking to see if any more words had been written on the mirror. The glass was clean, no more strange words or names. Finished with the tasks at hand, she walked back into the living room and took a seat on the sofa. She had just put her feet on the coffee table when she heard a man’s voice.

  “Osiyo.”

  Ssabra nearly jumped out of her skin, and came damn close to wetting herself. She jumped up and looked around the room, but there was no one there. But she hadn’t imagined the voice; she heard it clearly. Doing a slow turn to look around the room, she asked out loud, “Who said that?”

  She didn’t expect an answer, and nearly had a heart attack when one came.

  “I said it.”

  Chapter 14

  The clock on the wall above the bar finally struck midnight, a few minutes after the last two customers of the evening walked out the front door of Harry’s Seafood and Grill. Naturally, those customers had sat at one of Cindy’s tables, preventing the young waitress from getting off work a little early. She didn’t mind staying late, especially on good nights, but the customers, and the tips, had trickled to a slow stop hours earlier. The few people who had stayed late were only interested in coffee and conversation, and had only left a few lousy coins for the service they received.

  “Tough night?” Frank asked, as she sat down wearily on one of the stools at the upstairs bar. Frank was one of three assistant managers, and usually worked the night shift. He was tall, dark-haired, and good-looking. He was also married. It seemed the good ones were always taken.

  “No tougher than any other night,” Cindy answered. She spread out her receipts on the bar, sorting them by credit card, cash, and discount coupon. “Is there anyone left in here, or are we closed?”

  Frank looked around. There was no one left upstairs, and he guessed that the downstairs was also empty. “I think we’re closed.”

  “Good. Then you don’t mind if I light up?”

  “No. Go ahead.”

  She started to
pull a pack of cigarettes out of her apron pocket, but Frank grabbed a pack off the back counter and handed it to her, along with a lighter. “Thank you.” Cindy took one of the cigarettes, lit it, then slid the pack back across the bar. Adding up her receipts, she double-checked to make sure the individual totals matched her final tally. Happy to see that she had made no mistakes in her math, she laid out the receipts for Frank to take a look at.

  He leaned over the bar, checking the register totals with the individual receipts. He added up what tips had been placed on credit card, giving her cash from the register for that amount. “There. You’re all set. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “How about making me a free drink? I’ve had a rough night.”

  “You’ve got it. What would you like?”

  “I’d love a margarita. Make it strong, with extra salt.”

  A margarita, huh? Sounds like you’re planning on going out tonight.”

  “I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I’m going to go party. I want to get drunk and listen to music.”

  “You’re not driving, are you?” he asked, a little concerned.

  She shook her head. “No, Daddy. I’m not driving. I’m going to hit the local bars, a few streets over. I’ll leave my car here, and probably take a cab home. Or have a friend drive me.”

  “Good girl.” Frank grabbed a bottle of tequila, and the triple sec, mixing up a strong margarita with extra salt on the rim of the glass. Setting the drink on the bar, he left to attend to business downstairs.

  Cindy was quietly sipping her margarita, when the waitress realized she was completely alone. Harry’s Seafood and Grill could be quite spooky at night, especially the second floor. She had all but forgotten the weird image she saw in the mirror earlier in the evening, but now it came back to her. It had probably been nothing more than a trick of the lighting, but it scared the hell out of her. And then there was the creepy-looking guy with the beard who had stared at her.