We’d all gone back to Aunt Elena’s office to regroup. Aunt Elena rummaged through cabinets, Hannah and Jason chattered with excitement, and I wanted to run away. How in Solomon’s name was I supposed to find and bury Mrs. Wilkes’s bones, convince her to cross over, and then get Mr. Wilkes to leave all without Dad knowing what we were up to? This was nuts. Totally, completely nuts. Dad would disown me if he found out.
“So what’s the plan?” Hannah leaned forward, still bouncing her legs up and down. Boy, that meeting with Mr. Graves had her riled up.
“I’m going to call Frank. We’ll need his help when we go back to the Wilkeses’ house.” Aunt Elena made a note on a slip of paper.
The thought of going back into that house made me want to move to a different state. Maybe that’s what I should do.
“We’ll go and speak to Mr. Barrett first thing tomorrow morning. If he wants to rent out his house or sell it, then he’ll let us do what needs to be done,” said Aunt Elena, her voice firm.
“And if he doesn’t?” I asked. I had to. It’s not like I wanted to go back into that pit of terror, but I knew I couldn’t let Mr. Wilkes keep stalking me either.
“He’ll do whatever it takes to get rid of what’s haunting his house. If we’re successful with this case, word will get around, and I’ll have more business than I can handle.” Aunt Elena looked determined.
Was everything about business for her? Geez.
She gave me a squeeze. “In the meantime, Alex, we need to keep you safe.”
Okay . . . so maybe it wasn’t just business. Maybe she really did care.
Aunt Elena walked to an antique cabinet and opened the doors. She pulled out a new bag of salt, another bottle of holy water, and some incense. “The best defense against ghosts, especially mean ones, is to neutralize your fear.”
“Neutralize my fear? That’s kind of hard to do when he’s strangling the air out of me.” It sounded harder than I meant, but come on. Old Man Wilkes was trying to kill me.
“What we need is a plan,” said Aunt Elena, any trace of fear or reluctance gone. “Jason, ask your mom if Alex can spend the night at your house tonight and you tell them you’ll be staying with Alex.”
“Hang on.” Jason shuffled back a step. “You want me to lie to my parents?”
I nearly laughed. The last time Jason had lied to his mom was when he didn’t want to get in trouble for leaving inky fingerprints all over her newly painted walls. Of course, we’d both stamped our fingers on the ink pad and had “decorated” the wall, and she knew it. We’d both been scolded for ruining the wall, but the swat she’d landed on his backside was for lying.
“No, but unless you want to tell them you’ll be spending the night with Hannah warding off a ghost, then you don’t have many options.”
“You have a point.” Jason picked up the old dial phone Aunt Elena kept in her office, probably since it didn’t need electricity to operate. “I’m on it.”
“Good.” Aunt Elena rummaged around the cabinets and pulled out several white candles. “If we’re all under one roof we can take turns keeping watch—but be sure to leave out any mention of the paranormal. We don’t need my brother challenging us. And right now, what Alex needs most are friends and family around who can help protect him and keep him calm. Malevolent spirits gain control by isolating the one they’re attacking. By keeping their victim alone, they create more fear. And they feed on fear.”
What Aunt Elena said made lots of sense. And if I didn’t have to face Old Man Wilkes alone, I’d definitely be less afraid—even if I was the only one who could see the ghost.
Not surprisingly, Dad hadn’t readily agreed to a sleepover at Jason’s house on account of my “drama” at school. But in the end, Dad agreed that hanging out with my best friend might do me some good. That it might bring some normalcy back to my life. So, after a quick trip home to repack my bag and recheck the sigils on my ghostball trap, I headed back to Hannah’s.
Hannah opened the front door and her face lit up. Nerves crawled up and down my spine and I set my backpack next to the front door. Maybe spending the night here wasn’t such a good idea . . .
“Hey.” Jason came out of the kitchen with a mouthful of something. I almost laughed. Leave it to Jason to eat no matter what the circumstances. “There’s some mac ’n’ cheese and sweet plantains in the kitchen if you want some. Mom sent me over with enough food for an army.” Food sprayed out of his mouth while he talked.
Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Close your mouth and chew, please.”
Jason popped another plantain into his mouth and chewed noisily.
“My mom’s already in her room. Friday’s her night to lock herself in, have wine, and watch movies until she passes out. So we won’t be hearing from her at all.” Hannah’s voice said she was cool with it, but the droop in her shoulders gave away how she really felt. It sucked that her dad had left, and that on Fridays her mom left, too. But her face brightened when Aunt Elena walked in the room. I guess it made sense that Hannah put so much energy into Aunt Elena and the PI stuff. It was always there for her.
“And thank goodness for your mother’s Friday night television-wine ritual. We don’t need her snooping around in here.” Aunt Elena struck a match, lit her lantern candle, and led us into the front room where a dozen or so white pillar candles flickered in the near darkness.
“Why are all the lights out in here?” There’s no way I was going to take part in some sort of séance.
Aunt Elena set down the lantern and handed me a small plastic pouch with what looked like rock salt and herbs. “I don’t want to give Mr. Wilkes any extra help getting inside. Now, you, go and take a bath.”
“Excuse me?” A bath was the last thing on my list to do at Hannah’s house.
Jason and Hannah busted out laughing. I scowled at them both. Especially Jason. “Traitor,” I hissed at him. He’d never chattered on so much with anyone but me—especially not a girl . . . who happened to be my weirdo PI cousin. I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around it.
Aunt Elena gave me a gentle prod toward the bathroom. “Go take a bath with the sea salt, sage, and rosemary. It will help protect you from Mr. Wilkes. The bath’s already drawn.”
Collecting the lantern and my backpack, I headed toward the bathroom and wondered what they’d be talking about while I was gone.
“And put this on when you’re done.” Aunt Elena handed me a small silver pendant. A Seal of Solomon. The same one tattooed at the base of Frank’s throat. “It’s a Third Pentacle of Saturn. It will help protect you against evil spirits.”
I put the pendant around my neck where it clanked against Mom’s amulet. I hoped between the two, I’d be safe. I closed the bathroom door to the chatter of Hannah and Jason and inhaled steam that wafted up from the tub. I couldn’t remember feeling this relaxed since—well, to be honest, since before Mom died. I set the lantern on the vanity and my backpack on the back of the toilet, then let my clothes drop in a heap on the bathroom floor. I dumped the salt mixture into the pre-drawn bath, then slipped in. The warm water and fragrance of the sage and rosemary wrapped around me, soothing the sore muscles of my injured leg. Melting away the worry and anticipation and fear from my mind.
Maybe I really would sleep well tonight. With Aunt Elena and Jason and Hannah keeping watch, I had to, right?
I inhaled the steam. The flickering candlelight made my eyes flutter. My shoulders relaxed and I slid deeper into the bath.
Eeeeee—Eeeeee—Eeeeee . . .
The steam swirled so thickly I could hardly see across the white-tiled bathroom.
Eeeee—Eeeeee—Eeeee . . .
The sound of a wet finger on glass. I stared, hard, but could barely make out the mirror.
Eeeee—Eeeee—Eeeee . . .
I swallowed the ball of fear clogging my throat, rose from the water, wrapped a fluffy white towel around my waist, and clung to the pendant Elena had given me. I trudged forward as a final letter appeared in the steamy mirror.
I CAN SEE YOU
My breath caught. There in the mirror, where I could see my reflection through the steam in the letters, emerged a face. Not my face. But the face of an old man with a scraggly beard, his mouth contorted with rage.
A deep exhale from behind raised goose bumps along my shoulder and a claw-like hand ripped the flesh on my back.
I screamed in pain, threw open the bathroom door, and dashed into the hall.
Heart thudding, I ran to the front room where Aunt Elena stood lighting the last of the candles.
“Alex, where are your clothes—” Hannah’s cheeks turned pink, but I couldn’t care less. I’d left my jeans in the bathroom with whoever or whatever was likely still in there and I wasn’t going to go back for them.
Jason stared at me. And he wasn’t laughing. “Your back is bleeding.”
I raised a shaking hand and pointed. “Jeans are still in there . . .” A deep, rumbling moan echoed through the house. “With him.”
Aunt Elena examined the scratches on my back, took a long, deep breath, held a smoldering bundle of sage before her, and marched straight toward Mr. Wilkes.