It was about five p.m., so the sun was still up when Chris and Heather arrived at her house on Saturday. It would be another four hours before sunset. Afraid that if Clay saw Chris, he might wait until he believed Heather was alone before returning, Chris took a seat in the rocking chair tucked into a dark corner of the living room, while Heather sat in the recliner, brightly lit from the sunlight coming through the front window. Heather turned on the television, and together she and Chris silently watched a movie on cable.
They had been watching the movie for about an hour when Chris glanced at his watch. He was about to say something to Heather when the sound went off on the television and the picture turned to static. The next moment, Clay appeared in the living room, standing between Heather and the television. The ghost faced Heather.
Heather picked up her TV remote and turned off the television. “I suppose I can thank you for interrupting my movie?”
Clay glanced at the television and back at Heather. “I’m not really sure how I did that. But I was trying to find a way to turn it off.”
“Not bad for a new ghost.” Heather tossed the remote back on the side table. She leaned back in her chair and lifted the footrest with her bare feet on it and leaned back. “I thought you might show up.”
“I wanted to talk to you while you were alone.” Clay clearly had not yet noticed Chris sitting in the dark corner, watching him.
“Why? Most people can’t see you. What would it matter?”
“True. But we can’t have a conversation with other people around. It would be awkward for you to participate.”
“I suppose they would assume I was talking to myself.”
“Something like that.” Clay paused a moment, as if remembering something, and then asked, “When you were in the jail cell after I arrested you for Camilla’s murder, you weren’t alone, were you? You were talking to someone, weren’t you?”
Heather smiled. “That’s right. I was talking to a couple of ghost friends.”
Clay nodded, as if it all made sense now.
“Why didn’t you want to talk to me in front of Wesley? He’s one of you.”
Clay shrugged. “Because this isn’t any of his business. I just met the guy. I don’t need to share my personal life with other ghosts.”
“It might be insensitive of me to point out, but you don’t have a life anymore.”
“No. No, I don’t.”
“I’m going to tell you something. And if you leave immediately, when you return, I’ll ignore you. I’ll pretend you’re not there. So if there is some favor you want from me, you won’t get it. Trust me, I’m stubborn, and if I choose to ignore you, you will be dead to me.”
Clay frowned. “Umm, I’m already dead. But what could you possibly say that would make me leave?”
“Hold that thought. And remember, if you leave now, it will be your last goodbye.” Heather motioned over to the far corner of the living room. “Clay, do you remember my boss, Chris Johnson? Or as his friends know him, Chris Glandon.”
Clay quickly turned around, looking at where Heather motioned.
Chris stood up and stepped out into the light. “Hello, Clay. How’s death treating you?”
Clay didn’t budge from his spot. “They told me you were also a medium.”
“What exactly do you want from the mediums?” Chris asked as he walked toward Heather, who remained reclined in her chair.
Clay glanced nervously from Chris to Heather. “I guess karma is real.”
Chris walked to the empty recliner next to Heather and sat down. “Why do you say that?”
Clay shrugged and walked over to the sofa. He sat down and faced Chris and Heather. “Considering how I treated you when I was alive. And now that I’m dead, and apparently facing some sort of judgment, and I need a favor from you.” Clay let out a snort and shook his head before continuing, “There is some irony here. I need help from a medium, and it turns out the closest mediums include a couple I intended to kill, a woman I tried killing, and a man I harassed, and even the youngest medium no doubt has issues with me, since I tried taking his father’s job. Yeah, karma is real.” Clay gave a bitter laugh and leaned back on the sofa.
“What’s this favor? You think we can help lessen your ultimate punishment in some way?” Chris asked.
Clay shook his head. “I don’t care about me. It’s funny, when you move to the other side, things feel different. I can’t seem to remember why it was so important to become police chief. Why was power so important to me? The entire concept now feels empty somehow. It has no value.”
“You can’t figure it out?” Heather asked.
“In an abstract way, I suppose.” Clay considered how better to answer Heather’s question a moment before saying, “It’s like seeing a picture of a house you really want, and you end up buying it sight unseen, and spend more than you can afford. But when you actually see the house, in person, it’s not as wonderful as you thought, and you realize you paid far too much for it.”
“So when you died, you were able to see how much you had been willing to pay for your job as police chief?” Heather asked.
Clay shrugged. “I suppose. I was willing to pay far too much. In doing so, I undervalued my marriage and didn’t see what I was doing to my sons.”
“When did you realize this?” Heather asked.
“I don’t know, not exactly.” Clay then told them about his death and then his cremation and how he had witnessed another soul move on, experiencing euphoria, while he remained on this plane.
“Coming to those realizations will probably help you when it comes to your penance—or punishment—however it works. Not sure what you need from us,” Chris said.
“I need help reaching my boys. I don’t want them to make the type of choices I did and end up like me. As their father, it was my job to teach them how to live their lives. I failed miserably as a father.”
Heather crossed her arms over her chest and studied Clay. “I wonder why you’re still here. Why hasn’t someone come and gotten you and taken you over to the other side?”
“Is that how it usually works?” Clay asked.
Heather shrugged. “I remember one time, Danielle telling me about two miserable souls getting dragged off rather unceremoniously in the afterlife.”
Chris looked at Heather. “Who was that?”
“Remember the one who jumped in the body of the guy married to Lily’s cousin? When Lily and Ian got married,” Heather reminded him.
“Jumped in the body?” Clay frowned.
Heather turned to Clay. “Don’t even go there. You think it’s bad now?” Heather shivered at the thought.
“Go where?” Clay muttered.
“Don’t forget what Walt and Danielle told us about Stoddard Gusarov. He hung around Marlow House for a while, being annoying,” Chris reminded her.
Heather nodded. “True. And then don’t forget about his wife. Or even Walt’s first wife. Both were basically responsible for their husbands’ deaths, and both stuck around for a while. They weren’t allowed to move on.” She looked at Clay. “Maybe that’s what’s happening with you.”
Clay frowned in confusion. “I have no idea what either of you are talking about.”
“I think what Heather and I are getting to—each soul has its own journey. And the Universe obviously handles each soul on a case-by-case basis. It’s possible the reason no one has come to get you, or you can’t move on by yourself, is that the Universe wants you to stick around until you do something.”
“That something could be my sons,” Clay suggested.
“That would be my guess, because you obviously have a strong feeling about it,” Chris said.
Heather grinned at Chris. “Look at you, being all Eva-like.”
Chris frowned at Heather. “What do you mean?”
“That just sounds like something Eva would say.”
“Then perhaps I’m right,” Chris countered.
They both looked at Clay. “What exactly did you think Heather could do for you?” Chris asked.
“I would like her to talk to my boys. Tell them she has a message from their father.”
Heather let out a snort. “Seriously?”
“Yes. You can do that. I’ll tell you something that only they’ll know. A secret I shared with only them.”
Chris shook his head. “I agree with Heather. That’s a bad idea.”
“She didn’t say it was a bad idea,” Clay argued.
Chris pointed to Heather. “Look at her expression. That’s her don’t be such a dumbass face.”
Heather flashed Chris a smile. “You really know me well.”
Chris shrugged. “You’ve given me that look enough.”
Heather turned to Clay. “I can’t go up to your boys and start telling them weird stuff about their dad. If your wife catches me, she’ll probably have me arrested.”
“She has a point. Would you want someone who looks like Heather to walk up to your sons and try to get all friendly?” Chris asked.
Heather flashed Chris a glare. “Oh, shut up. I’m a freaking delight. Kids love me.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Clay asked.
“Is this basically all you wanted from Heather? To convince your sons not to take your path? To let them know you regret the choices you made and not to make the same mistakes?”
Clay nodded. “Yes.”
The sound of a door slamming shut came from the kitchen. Clay vanished for a moment and then returned. He looked at Chris. “You’d better hide; Brian is here.”
Chris frowned at Clay, and Heather chuckled. She remained sitting in the recliner. The next moment, Brian walked into the living room. He stopped walking when he saw Chris. He looked from Chris to Heather and asked, “Clay?”
“Can Brian see me too? Is Brian a medium? They didn’t tell me Brian was a medium.”
“Clay is standing right there.” Heather pointed to the ghost Brian couldn’t see. “Chris and I found out what he wants.”
“So he can’t see me?” Clay asked.
Brian glanced from Chris to Heather. “Do you need me to leave so you can finish?”
“No.” Chris turned his attention to Clay. “We’ll discuss your request with the other mediums and see if anyone has any ideas about how best to help you.”
“You’re going to help him?” Brian grumbled. “I thought you were going to get him to move on.”
“Trust us, Brian,” Heather said. “You’ll understand when we explain.”
“Clay, in the meantime, we’d like you to go. Don’t pop in on Heather again when she’s alone. It’s creepy. When we have something to tell you, we’ll leave you a sign,” Chris said.
“Sign? What kind of sign?” Clay asked.
Heather frowned at Chris. “Yeah, what kind of sign?”
“I don’t know.” Chris shrugged. He considered the question a moment and then said, “She can hang something on the front door. That would work.”
“I know; I have a wreath. If I hang it on the front door, it means we have something to tell you,” Heather said. “And unless a wreath is hanging on my front door, don’t come in my house.”