CHAPTER SEVEN

Amanda snuck behind the tent and toward the other rides to avoid being seen by Jake. If he knew she’d left the carousel and wasn’t concentrating on her work, he’d become more suspicious. I don’t want to talk to the ghost near the carousel wasn’t a good answer. Not for Jake, not for anyone.

If she had to be cursed with this ability, she would deal with it on her own terms. Explore the park. Learn more about these other ghosts for herself.

Her small steps on the paved boardwalk cut the silence with a series of eerie clacks. On the left, the abandoned log flume looked like a topiary experiment gone bad. Kudzu had coiled its way around the ride, and mosquitoes flittered over random pools of water left from a recent rain.

Thick humidity draped Zephyr Land, almost like a large blanket over this haunted park. When a slight breeze blew, the warm air on her cheek felt like she’d been kissed by something. Someone.

She swallowed hard. Reached into her purse and found the pepper spray. Just in case.

Something moved in her line of sight. Spinning around, keeping an eye in all directions, she noticed the fortune-teller machine off to the left. Wait a second. Was it—moving?

Gripping the pepper spray tighter, she approached the dilapidated box. Inside, the brunette mannequin’s head moved. Moved? Amanda swallowed hard. Darted a glare around the machine with no electrical cord to be found. Was her mind playing tricks, or was someone messing with her? Old-timey carny amusements didn’t just start working on their own. Not in an abandoned park.

Yet the mannequin bobbed her head up and down. Her long fingernails clutched a white crystal ball. Suddenly, a tiny white card flew out of the machine’s mouth.

Amanda walked around the fortune-teller box. Kudzu and overgrown weeds covered the ground. So how could the machine function like it did when Zephyr Land was open and functional?

Tinkling chimes resounded in the air. Amanda stared at the tiny white card now blowing across the pavement. As much as she didn’t want to know—she had to find out. She picked it up and read the inscribed text: We know you are here.

Amanda shuddered. Turned and started to run back to the carousel.

“Help us,” a chorus of voices whispered.

“Leave me alone, whoever you are!”

Frigid air seeped across every pore on her skin. Every cell went clammy. Then almost immediately, the feeling vanished. Silence.

With trepidation, Amanda continued her trek toward the carousel tent.

A woman’s curt voice rang in the air. “Most folk with the sight say ‘excuse me’ when they walk through one of us.”

Amanda spun around. How could she have missed seeing this latest soul? A woman in her fifties, neatly dressed with a navy jacket. She could’ve been an FBI agent in her human life. She had the official-looking appearance coupled with perfectly coiffed hair pulled into a tight golden-blonde bun.

“I…I’m sorry?”

The woman frowned. “I said you should excuse yourself if you’re going to walk through one of us.”

Now this ghost was lecturing her on manners? Amanda did a quick glance back toward the coaster. No sign of Jake nearby. The fortune teller had ceased operating too.

Good. She would be free to talk.

“I didn’t see you.” Amanda cleared her throat. “What’s your name?”

“Opal.” She eyed Amanda up and down, like inspecting a piece of fruit at the market. “And you are Amanda?”

“Yes. How’d you know my name?”

Opal rolled her eyes. “We all know there’s a human with the sight here, trust me. We’ve waited long enough. Been trying to get your attention.”

Amanda glanced back at the fortune booth. Maybe ghosts had been operating the box?

“Besides,” Opal added, “Declan told us about you.”

“Right.” Amanda bit her lip, unsure how to continue the conversation. What exactly had Declan told them?

The scowl on Opal’s brow grew more intense. “So why don’t you want to help us?”

Oh. Guess Declan pretty much told them everything.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” she said.

“No?”

“I said I couldn’t.”

Opal put her hands on her hips. “Same thing. Now stop all this dillydallying and help us.”

Dillydallying? I’m practicing self-preservation. If she helped these poor souls, who’d help her when Jake walked away?

“Even if I could help, how am I supposed to find the person who murdered you ten years ago? We’re only here for a week.”

“You’re human. Be resourceful.” Even in her semitransparent state, the ghost could glare.

Opal’s argument seemed much too simplistic, yet Amanda couldn’t argue.

“I can’t tell the man I’m dating that I see ghosts. Surely you can get someone else to help? This is the South. Aren’t there a higher number of gifted people here?”

With a stern glance, Opal said, “We don’t have anyone else. You’re it. Some people would be honored to be selected.”

“Not me.”

Amanda turned to storm off but tripped over a bucket of tools and fell. Sharp scrapes and cuts sliced her right leg as blood oozed.

“What the hell? That wasn’t there a minute ago.”

Opal towered over her. “Correct.”

“You put it in harm’s way so I’d fall? What kind of ghost are you?”

“What kind of human are you?”

Amanda bit her lip. Hard. Telling this ghost exactly where to go and where to stick certain things wouldn’t accomplish much.

“Help me up at least?”

A sweet, sickly smile crossed Opal’s face. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I won’t. It’s that I can’t.”

“Seriously?” Amanda sighed. Forced herself to stand up. A thin line of blood trickled down to her ankle.

“We can help each other,” Opal said. “You find our killer—I’ll leave you alone.”

“Ultimatums don’t work on me,” Amanda said, digging in her jeans pocket for that fortune-teller card, which she used to wipe off some of the blood.

Opal circled Amanda, showing in every angle of her peripheral vision. The formal-looking woman looked like something in a House of Mirrors, appearing one second, disappearing the next, and then materializing behind her.

“Let me put this plainly,” Opal said. “I know you turned Declan down, but he’s only been here for a few days. I’ve been here for ten years. Trust me. There’s nothing I won’t try to get out of here.”

“Like trip someone,” Amanda muttered, then wondered what else Opal might do.

“Exactly.”

“Manipulative bit—”

“No cussing, please. There are children present.”

Amanda glanced around, seeing no one. “You’re lying.”

“She’s not,” a tiny girl whispered.

The little girl with curly black hair in ponytails appeared out of nowhere. This was different. Amanda wasn’t accustomed to ghosts fading in and out so quickly. In the cities she knew, they often hid behind things and showed themselves slowly. Here in Zephyr Land, they appeared in an instant.

“Sorry,” Amanda said. “What’s your name?”

“Her name’s Becca. She’s my niece.”

“Hi, I’m Amanda.” She knelt down and studied Becca’s young face. “You look familiar.”

Becca shrugged. “I haven’t left here since we died. And there’s nobody to play with. Sarah couldn’t come to the park.”

Sarah? Amanda choked. Fought to breathe. Cold air flooded her veins.

She suddenly knew why this little girl looked familiar. She looked identical to the ghost child she’d seen at the Abandon Inn. But how could one be dead at the inn and one at the park?

Stop. Breathe. The situation is too unlikely. Just learn what you can and get out of here.

“Are you okay?” Becca asked.

Amanda sat on the pavement, her head between her knees. “I will be, as soon as I can get back to the Abandon Inn.”

Opal’s eyes widened. “You’re staying there?”

The knot in Amanda’s throat plummeted to her stomach. “Yes.”

“My sister Pearl runs the place. My other niece Sarah should be there too.”

“I’ve met them.”

“You could bring them here, to the park—”

“Wait just a minute,” Amanda said. She stood up, regaining her footing.

“What, you have better things to do than help us?” Opal said. “You’re in an abandoned amusement park, for crying out loud. A lot of tasks on your plate besides hanging with some guy?” Becca scooted, nearly floating, to slightly behind Opal.

Amanda bit the inside of her lip. She’d been raised to respect those older than herself, but Opal was making the situation challenging.

“I’m supposed to be studying the carousel. I have to write a thirty-page paper on its restoration—”

“I’m sure that’s all good for you.” Opal smoothed one rebellious hair back into her bun. “But let’s be serious. You need to take care of this first.”

Opal’s presumption only sent irritation coursing through Amanda’s veins.

“Why? Why do my plans always come last? Since when did I get elected as your local translator between the living and dead?”

Opal’s lips flattened into one sharp line. Her jaw twitched as the anger radiated from her eyes. She said nothing, just let the icy glare do all the talking.

Amanda wanted to retract the words the minute she’d said them, especially since Opal’s expression was an exact replica of Amanda’s aunt Anzhela when she became angry. Amanda stared at the ground, knowing full well what her aunt would say if she were here now. The same things she’d told Amanda all her life.

A gift is also a responsibility. You must nurture it, not deny it. To refuse to use your gift is to spit in Universe’s face. Our family is different. You must embrace it. Always use your talent to help others.

Amanda took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to imply that your situation wasn’t important—”

“Clearly, you did.” Opal studied her with stern eyes. “You try living in limbo, stuck in this humid hellhole for ten years. See how patient you are when you find someone who can help you leave.”

Opal had a good point. Amanda had only been in town since yesterday.

Becca walk-glided forward and tugged on Amanda’s shirt.

“Yes?”

“Why won’t you bring my sister here?”

Amanda glanced into those innocent young eyes. How could she explain that she couldn’t move ghosts from one place to another, even if she wanted to?

“Things don’t work that way,” she said, her words sounding as lame as she feared.

Becca stuck out her bottom lip, the way only a five-year-old could. “Why can’t you try?”

A sharp pang hit Amanda’s heart. She couldn’t say no to such a young child. But how could she get a ghost at the inn to come with her to the park?

“Tell you what. I’ll talk to Pearl and Sarah. Maybe I can figure out something?”

Becca’s frown did a quick one-eighty. That wide grin on such a young face tugged at every heartstring Amanda had.

Opal nodded in approval. “My sister might know more about the accident—or rather, murder—than we do.”

With a resolved breath, Amanda nodded. “I’ll talk to Pearl and Sarah. I can’t promise anything else.”

“It’s a start,” Opal said. “I appreciate you being willing to try. Guess it can’t be easy having the sight.”

Opal’s phrasing was old school. Most people called the ability to see the dead a gift, a responsibility, a calling, or talent. She called it the sight.

Amanda shrugged. “The worst part is not being able to tell anyone, especially Jake.”

Opal shook a crooked finger at her. “You’ve got the sight. One of these days, that boy is gonna find out. May as well come clean now.”

“No, it’s better to wait.”

Opal shot her a knowing glance. “Your choice, but I predict this will backfire in your face.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Amanda wasn’t about to let Jake find out about her ability. All she had to do was get Pearl and Sarah’s help, do some chatting with ghosts without Jake noticing, and then these departed folks could cross over. Then she could spend the rest of their trip researching the carousel.

Things would work, despite her awkward ability. They had to—one way or another.