End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) Page 23

  There were still four other ghosts to account for and I didn’t have any information so I started with cold cases and did a quick search of anything unsolved that happened on that stretch of highway, starting with the year Frank died.

  Four items appeared and I clicked on the first one. A hitchhiker had been struck by a car and killed. The transient’s identity remained unknown. I moved onto the next file. An image of a man, face down in the dirt with a bullet wound to the back of his head filled up the screen. I quickly closed the window in order to read the details. This wasn’t a cold case per se. The execution style murder fit the profile of others and the body was dumped at the spot on the highway. Since the original crime scene was never discovered and there was little evidence at the scene, the case remained unsolved. However, it was linked with a larger, ongoing investigation of the Mexican Mafia.

  I found it interesting, but not relevant to my search, so I selected the third case, one that went back close to forty years, to 1969. A young woman had been raped and asphyxiated. A family discovered her body on a clearing next to the northbound side of I-17. The woman’s killer had never been identified.

  A separate file contained scanned images from the crime scene and I clicked on the first thumbnail. Recognition was immediate. The girl, lying lifeless on the desert floor, was the same woman I saw standing beside Frank. The long, blonde hair and the wide-set eyes were the same - even the clothes matched.

  Georgia was her name. I stared at the photo, without really seeing it. My eyes went unfocused as the reality sank in; I wasn’t crazy, these people were real, their deaths sudden and tragic. The real tragedy being they weren’t at peace, their sprits still haunted the area where they died and I had no idea how to help them.

  I heard movement behind me so I quickly minimized the screen and shuffled papers around to sound like I was busy. An officer walked by my desk and I looked up. We nodded to each other and then I was alone again. I wrote down Georgia’s name and her date of death in my notebook. I wanted to know more; about her, Frank and the others. I needed to ask them in person.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  FRANK

  Days passed and Elena never came back. The amount of people showing up dwindled and the plume of smoke on the horizon faded away. We went back to our usual routines, only there was an increased restlessness among us. Bob, who couldn’t stay in one spot for very long to begin with, paced like a lunatic up and down the center lane of the highway. He shouted at cars as they passed by or through him. I don’t know what he was hoping to achieve. Maybe he just liked to yell.

  Occasionally a car pulled over and I’d wait, hoping Elena was inside. It got to the point, after the full moon had passed once, that I stopped expecting her. One night, when the moon illuminated the desert around us, I stood on the edge of the highway and watched Lawrence, who was underneath Juanita’s tree. He hadn’t moved from his spot in days and I worried about him. We all did. First Georgia and Peggy tried to talk to him, asked him what was wrong. Each time Lawrence shook his head and said he couldn’t explain. He didn’t say anything else. I decided to give it a try.

  When I approached him, he smiled; a sad shadow of his real smile. “Do you think this woman, Elena, will come back?” he asked.

  “I think so. There was something in her eyes. I know she is curious about us, plus I saved her life.”

  “Do you think she’ll be able to help us?”

  “I don’t know,” is all I could say.

  “I don’t think there’s anything she can do. My hope is gone,” Lawrence said and disappeared. I didn’t bother seeking out where he chose to reappear. The last time he became trapped by his melancholy, he eventually came back to us.

  I did seek out Peggy and Georgia who were standing in the clearing. They were both staring at the sky and Georgia’s arm was stretched out, pointing at something. They glowed in the moonlight, flickering occasionally with the fluctuations of their energy levels.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “The stars. See, there’s The Big Dipper,” Georgia answered and I too followed her pointing finger. Even though this wasn’t a new activity for us, it was one we hadn’t participated in for a long time, and it was just what I needed to take my mind off of Lawrence.

  “What do you think the view of the stars is like from Heaven?” Peggy asked, her voice coming out as a whisper because her head was tilted so far back.

  “If there is a Heaven, I hope we get to see the view someday,” Georgia said. “And I hope it is even more spectacular than this.”

  We were silent after that, caught up in the expanse of glittering white dots populating the night sky.

  The next day Elena showed up.

  ***

  A small silver car pulled over onto the shoulder. Nothing happened, the engine remained idling and no one got out. It stayed like this for a while so I moved closer. I could see the driver was the only person in the car, but I couldn’t make out much more than that so I made myself appear next to the driver’s side.

  “Hello Frank,” Elena said. Her window was rolled down as if she was expecting me. I could barely hear her over the roar of the cars speeding by on the highway behind me.

  “I knew you would come back.”

  “Yeah, sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” Elena explained to me that she’d lose her job if she was discovered. “But, I want to know if I can help you. After all, you saved my life.”

  She opened her door and quickly got out, walking around to the other side, away from the traffic. She pulled a small notebook out of the back pocket of her jeans and started walking towards Juanita’s mesquite tree. I moved alongside her.

  “I needed to wait for things to quiet down to come here to talk. How can I help you, what do you want?” she asked.

  “We all want to move on.”

  “All of you?” Elena paused and looked at me, then to Peggy and Georgia who stood underneath the tree. Bob hung back closer to Juanita’s memorial. Lawrence still hadn’t shown up. “How long have you been here? Wait,” she opened the notebook and pulled a pen out of the spirals. “Let’s start with who all of you are; full names, dates of birth, and…um, dates of death,” her voice trailed off at the end and she broke eye contact with me.

  “Okay, but why?”

  “Because I need more facts; proof you were real people and I’m not completely crazy. I’m a police officer and this seems like the most logical approach. This is new territory here!” She laughed uneasily and tucked a section of hair behind her ear. “I did some research and I found your file, plus Georgia’s.” Juanita turned towards Georgia who had locked eyes on the police officer when she heard her name.

  “Will you be able to find out about our families?” I asked.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes!” The excitement in my voice drew Georgia, Peggy and Bob closer to us and Elena asked them. Bob was the only one who didn’t care and didn’t give Elena many details about his family; just the basics she needed to do a preliminary search for his records.

  We started throwing names and facts at her to the point where she was writing as fast as possible. We were too preoccupied to notice when Lawrence joined us.

  ***

  LAWRENCE

  My original plan was to stay away from the others for a while. After talking to Frank I went to the furthest spot possible, which was an uneven patch of desert, once overgrown with brush, now barren and scorched. With enough focus I was able to shut my body down from absorbing any energy. This effort guaranteed almost absolute invisibility.

  It was lonely out there and it was stupid of me to reject everyone when companionship is what I needed. So I went back and was shocked to see the police officer had returned. At first I watched from a distance. The others were animated and talking to her. She was hunched over at the shoulders, writing in a small notebook, her forehead creased in concentration. Slowly I approached. Frank nodded at me and smiled. Peggy was telling the woman about her
fiancé, Stanley. She spelled out his last name and the woman wrote it down. “What are you going to say if you find him?” Peggy asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. I’ll just work on finding him first.” She started to tuck the notebook into her back pocket when Frank stopped her and gestured towards me.

  “Elena, this is Lawrence. He’s been here the longest.”

  She took a step closer. “Nice to meet you,” she said and smiled hesitantly, the corners of her mouth slowly opening up to a reveal white, even teeth. “I’ve been writing down information about each of you so I can research your families. Frank thought this would be a good place to start.” She opened up her notebook and looked up at me expectantly. “Do you want to add anything?”

  “I don’t know if it will do any good. My family died with me.” How quickly the memories surfaced – of me cradling Teddy and Sarah’s limp bodies in my arms and the hollow, desperate expression on Helen’s face when she placed the gun against her temple. I remembered how her steady hand stilled my shaking one so I could pull the trigger. I told Elena everything; not even caring if she was able to write fast enough. Once I began I couldn’t stop. Only when I got to the part about Juanita joining me did I pause.

  Elena was crying and tears dripped on the pages while she finished writing causing the paper to ripple and the ink to smear. She rubbed the back of her hand across her nose and sniffed. “I met Juanita’s daughter at the hospital,” she said with a thick voice. “She encouraged me to come back…told me what she experienced here. It was such a relief because I really thought I was losing it.” She laughed and shook her head. “I still wonder…”

  “I wish I could tell you we’re a figment of your imagination,” I paused and stared out past the highway before continuing. “I don’t expect you to be able to help me.”

  “And I’m not making any promises.”

  Elena stayed for a few minutes after that collecting more information, before leaving. Still, as I watched her tail lights disappear, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hope.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  ELENA

  Once I met with Frank and the others I became obsessed. Their stories were so tragic – I even had some sympathy towards Bob although he had been a drug dealer when he was alive. Lawrence’s history really broke my heart. His face was marked with anguish as if he lost his family only days before, the sadness that haunted his eyes was magnified by the lenses of his glasses and he visibly sagged with the burden of guilt he carried around.

  Alone in my apartment with the blinds drawn, I started researching that very night and was surprised to find information on Lawrence. It was a death notice from a Boston paper which had been loaded onto a genealogy website.

  While my printer hummed and vibrated as it printed out Lawrence’s notice, I typed in his wife’s name. Just like Lawrence, Helen also had a death notice. I printed this out as well. I was able to learn that their bodies, and those of their children, were laid to rest in Phoenix. Their families back East had made the funeral arrangements. There was a strong possibility I’d be able to find Lawrence’s extended family, but what exactly would I say to them. “Hi, your dead ancestor’s ghost asked me to track you down.” I smiled, imagining the facial expressions.

  I added the pages to my file and stood up to stretch. With a reheated mug of coffee, I sat back down and started my search on Peggy. I found an archived Motorola newsletter which contained a nice eulogy. Peggy was described as being a hard worker and dependable. The article mentioned her engagement to Stanley Gruber, a fellow Motorola employee. A small, black and white picture of the couple accompanied the eulogy, which I was surprised to discover, was written by Stanley. A veil of tears clouded my vision and I blinked them away. Poor Peggy, she was about ready to embark on a new chapter in her life when it was snuffed out. The experience in the fire gave me a newfound appreciation for my mortality. Reading about these lives cut short drove the appreciation in even deeper.

  I found out a service had been held for Peggy and her family scattered her ashes from Bell Rock in Sedona, one of her favorite hiking spots. I wrote this information down in my notebook and printed out the newsletter to show Peggy.

  Would these details make a difference and help them move on? I wondered what I’d do if I were stuck like them and my stomach balled up at the thought. The isolation alone would be maddening. They’ve spent years by the side of the highway without being able to let their families know and they retained all the emotion and memories of their lives. The concept was truly horrifying. It made me question what they did to deserve such a punishment. The only criminal was Bob, but his weren’t violent crimes, just misdemeanors in stupidity. Frank was drinking and driving, but did that action justify the sentence? If this purgatory was a reflection on how they lived, who made up the judge and jury? I didn’t believe in God enough to give him credit.

  I yawned and shut down the computer. As I was walking into the kitchen to set my mug in the sink, someone knocked on my door. A glance at the clock showed it was almost eleven. The few visitors I got usually were planned and didn’t show up this late, especially unannounced. I instantly went on the defensive and retrieved my gun from the belt hanging on the back of the chair I had been sitting in. Feeling more secure with the weight of cold steel in my grip, I strode over to the door and peered through the peephole.

  It was Eric, his straight nose and strong chin created a profile I’d recognize anywhere after waking up next to him for over two years.

  “What do you want?” I asked when I opened the door. I didn’t invite him in and stood with my body blocking the opening.

  “I drove by and saw your lights were on,” he said and stepped closer. “Can I come in?” It didn’t take my investigative skills to deduce he had been drinking. The sour combination of beer and hot breath gave it away.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Nah just had a couple beers. So, can I come in?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I do have to use the bathroom and I haven’t checked in with you in while. I want to make sure you’re doing all right.” He peered over my shoulder and surveyed the apartment. “Unless you’re not alone?”

  “What if I wasn’t?” I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Prickly, like a cactus, which means you are alone.”

  I glared at him some more before sighing and moving aside. “Fine, come in. You know where the bathroom is. Don’t get any ideas about spending the night though.”

  I watched him walk down the hallway and the moment the bathroom door closed, I grabbed my file folder and notebook. These I shoved in a kitchen drawer, on top of wooden spoons and measuring cups, before busying myself by washing my coffee mug. Eric joined me in the kitchen as I was putting it away in the cabinet next to the stove.

  “You’re up late,” he commented. “Usually you’re passed out by this time.”

  I shrugged and shut the cabinet door. “I was just getting ready for bed.” We regarded each other from opposite sides of the room. As much as I hated to admit it, he looked good. He had been lifting weights more and his biceps strained against the sleeves of his tee shirt. A pale band of skin right below the hairline on his neck revealed he recently had a haircut.

  “You’ve been keeping a pretty low profile.”

  “Wouldn’t you? Half the department thinks I’m nuts while others call me a ghost whisperer.”

  He closed the gap between us in two strides and attempted to pull me into an embrace. At first I softened and almost wrapped my arms around him, but stopped. He must have sensed my body tense up because he dropped his arms and backed off.

  “Eric, I think you better leave.”

  “Can’t I give you a hug?”

  Sure he could give me a hug, but after listening to all those sad stories tonight, I was emotionally vulnerable and knew where that hug would lead us…straight back to my bedroom.

  “Some other time,” I said and walked him to the front door,
which I locked up tight after he left.

  Long after he had pulled out of the parking lot, I stayed by the front window. The stars were barely visible past the street lights and the moon a pale sliver. I thought about how often Lawrence had stood under the endless stretch of universe completely alone. The very thought made me want to call Eric; have him turn around so I didn’t have to spend another night in an empty apartment. Out of sheer force of will I didn’t move towards the phone. After a while, my legs started to tingle from standing in one place for too long and my eyes were burning so I turned off the lights and went to bed.

  Chapter Sixty

  Two weeks had passed and Lieutenant Adams still had me as a desk jockey and I had a pile of things to follow up on. Pressing, urgent things like helping to solve murders and trying to pinpoint the location of a suspected meth lab in Seligman, but all I could think about was my growing file at home. I was distracted and every task seemed to take twice the effort to process. Ordinarily I’d be chomping at the bit to prove myself. Just like when I was in school, trying to get 100s on all of my tests and papers. Each day crawled by. My thoughts focused instead on tracking down living relatives of the I-17 ghosts.

  It would have been easy to use my resources as a sheriff’s deputy, but printing out information and photocopying was all I dared to do. If I actually attempted to contact the relatives as a representative of the Sheriff’s Office, that could too easily come back and bite me in the ass. As inconvenient as it was, I needed to stay under the radar.

  One of the first things I did, after verifying all of the ghosts’ stories, was place a call to Juanita’s daughter. She had written her cell phone number on the back of the business card she gave me at the hospital. I left her a message to let her know about my research and how I was going to attempt to locate any living relatives. When I hung up, I felt better for letting someone in on my secret project. I’d be surprised if she returned my call. Her mother had already moved on and she didn’t have a connection to the others.