End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) Read online

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Frank had told me about Tobin, about how he and Juanita were the only ones to successfully crossover. I hoped Gavin, Tobin’s brother, had some insight and would be able to help me. Cruz passed my number along and Gavin called me the same week. We made arrangements to meet in Tempe on my next day off.

  It was almost noon before I drove south, but Gavin sounded like he had just woken up when I called him before leaving. With it being midweek and midday, traffic was light so it didn’t take me long to reach the campus.

  When I entered the coffee shop where we had agreed to meet, I texted him since he could have been any one of the young, male college students in the shop. It took a few scans before I spotted a lanky guy with dark hair hanging in his eyes, standing up by a small table in the corner. Our eyes met and he gave me a tentative wave and held up his phone. The café was crowded. I maneuvered through people and tables to make my way over to him.

  “Gavin?” I asked and he nodded, holding out his hand which I shook. We sat down across from each other. Gavin’s iced coffee and half eaten scone separated us. He had picked a good table tucked back in the corner away from people.

  We had already talked about my rescue experience and how I knew ghosts had saved me, but he didn’t know what I had promised them.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” he said and placed a picture in front of me. The image was of two young boys kneeling in a sandbox. Each boy had a Tonka truck in front of them, which were ignored as they smiled at the camera.

  Gavin pointed to the older of the two boys. “That’s my brother, Tobin.”

  “Were you close?”

  “Yeah. He stood up for me, especially against our dad who can be pretty oppressive, or at least he used to be.”

  “Parents - you can’t choose them,” I said and smiled. He laughed and I noticed the set of his shoulders relax.

  “Were you able to see him after he…”

  “Died? No, but he was able to move things…write in the sand and stuff so I knew he was there.”

  “Why do you want to talk to me if you know he’s gone?”

  “Because I left him there and moved on. He always stood up for me and when it was my turn to stand by him, I didn’t.”

  Gavin proceeded to tell me how at first he went to visit his brother. He even contemplated suicide so he could join him, but Tobin convinced him otherwise.

  “I was definitely fucked in the head for a while there after Tobin died and I didn’t have that buffer with my dad.” Gavin played with a loose thread on the frayed sleeve of his shirt. “But things got better, you know? I got my driver’s license and then a girlfriend. My visits to see Tobin eventually stopped.”

  “It happens; you moved on.”

  “When Candy told me he had crossed over, I didn’t believe her at first so I drove up there. The other ghosts confirmed it.”

  “I know those other ghosts,” I paused and took a sip of coffee. “I’ve seen them.”

  Gavin stopped playing with his sleeve and looked up at me with wide eyes.

  When Gavin and I spoke on the phone to arrange our meeting, I didn’t tell him I knew any of this. I wanted to feel him out first and hear his story before revealing all my cards, so to speak. I also didn’t know how close of an acquaintance Gavin was to my brother and the last thing I needed was my mom learning about this. Being divorced, a cop, and approaching thirty was bad enough; talking to spirits would have her showing up at my apartment to stage an intervention. Despite these reservations, I decided to take a chance because I sensed sadness lingering around Gavin. He suffered a loss that left a mark and this was something I could relate to.

  He didn’t say anything so I continued. “I know their names and I’m trying to help them cross over like Tobin.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, exactly. Frank told me about your brother crossing over and another ghost did too. Her name was Juanita.”

  “Who’s Frank?” Gavin was leaning forward now, his scone pushed aside and forgotten.

  “Oh, right, sorry. He’s one of them. He died in the fifties.”

  “And he’s still there?”

  “Yes, he’s not the oldest one either.”

  “So he probably helped save Candy and my nephew?”

  “It’s very possible. Frank is the one who carried me to safety.” I reached into my laptop bag and pulled out the file. Gavin watched my movements and eyed the folder with curiosity. I had his full attention.

  I flipped it open and turned it around on the table for Gavin. Georgia’s information happened to be on top and he winced at the crime scene photographs; although black and white, they were still jarring.

  Gavin read the crime report and turned to the next page, which was Frank’s wife’s obituary. As he went through the folder I explained who was who. When he was done reading everything he slouched back in his chair and chewed on his lower lip.

  “I want to help you,” he said after a few minutes of silence. I set down my cup of coffee, long grown cold.

  “I don’t even know what I’m doing. How are you going to help?”

  “This is perfect for my senior project. I can make a documentary about this as we go through the process.”

  “Oh no. Nope, I’m all set with video. I’ll lose my job if word gets out. Besides how is that going to be any different than a ghost hunting show?”

  “Well for one thing, we know who they are and what happened to them. Plus, there’s already proof of your rescue. I promise to keep this off the internet and what if we actually succeed? That will be amazing and such a compelling study.”

  The disheveled college student was transforming into a salesperson and his pitch was convincing. The idea of succeeding seemed more feasible with more than one person involved.

  “Let me think about it,” I said and returned the folder to the side pocket of my bag.

  “Okay, that’s fair and I promise not to tell anyone.”

  I stood up and Gavin followed suit. We shook hands and I agreed to call him within a few days with my decision.

  ****

  I was so deep in thought on the way home I almost drove past the spot, forcing me to swerve onto the shoulder and slam on my brakes. The driver behind me honked and I caught a glimpse of a middle finger as a red convertible drove past.

  When there was a break in the traffic, I stepped out of my car and hurried around to the other side, stopping short when I almost walked into Frank. He and the others were waiting for me.

  “I recognized your car,” Frank explained. “We haven’t heard from you in a while and are a little anxious.”

  “There have been some developments,” I said. “In fact, I just met Tobin’s brother for coffee. He wants to help too.”

  “I remember him!” Georgia said. “Skinny kid with acne, right?”

  He wasn’t thin and actually kind of built. If he had any zits, the hair hanging in his face covered them. “Not anymore,” I told her. “He’s twenty-two and a senior at ASU.”

  “He’s that old already?” Georgia grew brighter and I swore she became solid, like a real person. I recognized the troubled expression on her face; it was the realization that too much time has lapsed and you couldn’t get it back.

  “Is that the only development?” Lawrence asked.

  “No, there’s more.” I opened the passenger door. My laptop bag was on the passenger seat and I retrieved the file folder.

  The sound of sand being crunched by tires got my attention and I turned to see who was approaching. A beige sedan slowed to a stop behind my Honda. The passenger window lowered and a head popped out.

  “Are you broken down?” a middle-aged woman called to me.

  “No, I’m fine…just taking a break. Thanks though.”

  The woman smiled, pulled her head back in and the window went up. I waved as they drove past and waited until the car disappeared over the hill. The rest of the traffic roared by without paying me any attention an
d that was perfect.

  I used my hood as a desk and the ghosts shuffled into a partial circle around me so they could see the contents of the folder.

  “Frank, you had a son. He’s named after you,” I handed him the print-out of the article about Frank Junior’s recent arrest. Frank went to grab it and it went right through his fingers and drifted to the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot!” I stammered and bent over to pick the paper up.

  “It’s okay,” he said, lowering into a squat next to me. He flickered, like a strobe light was cast upon him. Growing brighter much like Georgia had just done, he focused his eyes on the page. Moments later he stood upright with the paper clenched in his fist. “I wasn’t ready for that. I have a son?”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  FRANK

  Elena started to answer, but I was already reading. The more I read, the deeper the concern for my son grew. He was already three miles down the wrong path. “We have to help him!” I exclaimed when I reached the end of the article. “I don’t want him to make my mistakes.”

  I couldn’t stop staring at my son’s picture. He had Faye’s light coloring, but the face was all mine. He had creases around his mouth and a deep groove between his eyebrows. Aside from those differences, he could be my twin. It must not have been easy for Faye to have a constant reminder of her errant husband who made her a young widow.

  “Is there more?”

  Elena nodded and handed me another sheet of paper. This time I didn’t have any trouble holding onto it. Faye’s senior portrait from high school was the first thing that caught my eye. Her blonde hair curled under at her chin and she smiled over her shoulder. This was the Faye I fell in love with and as I read her obituary, I was glad they didn’t use a picture of her after time had worn away her youth, leaving behind a wrinkled and stooped old woman.

  I expected to be disappointed when I learned she remarried, but instead I was happy. She had continued to live and didn’t let my death hold her back. I hoped it was a joyful and fulfilling life; something our son was definitely in need of.

  “Can you bring my son here?” I asked Elena.

  “Uh…I’m not sure how to pull that off. ‘Junior, you need to come to Arizona, the ghost of your father wants to communicate with you. Oh, and he’s stuck on the side of the highway.’ He’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “Oh, right.” The obituary fell from my hand as disappointment depleted all of my energy. I could tell I was fading, but didn’t care. Never had I felt so useless. I had a son. He was alive and in trouble and I was completely unable to help him.

  “Frank, don’t do this. Don’t disappear,” Lawrence said. I looked at him and he was holding his own sheet of paper. He was also smiling and glowing. Whatever news he received had to have been positive.

  “My family didn’t forget about us. In fact, they honored us and mourned our passing,” he said. “Decade’s worth of medical research has been funded in Helen’s honor.”

  “That’s great, Lawrence.”

  Elena spoke up next. “Frank, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought this might help give you some closure, but I was wrong. You’re all still here.” She leaned against her car and stared out across the desert. The setting sun cast her in an orange glow.

  Peggy and Georgia stayed back. Elena’s research had been limited for them. Peggy stood away from the group, clutching the obituary Stanley had written to her chest. Georgia tried to pretend like it didn’t bother her that her case had never been solved and there wasn’t more information, but I could tell it did. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her lower lip stuck out slightly and she held her chin up high. A technique Faye used to prevent tears from spilling down her cheeks whenever I said something she thought was insensitive.

  “I didn’t have much faith in this, Elena, so please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Lawrence said and he appeared next to her. She turned and looked at him. In the fading light, the shadows under her eyes were visible.

  “I really want to help, but I’m a cop, not a clairvoyant.”

  “You’ve done far more than that charlatan who accompanied the news woman did.”

  “She was pretty clueless,” Elena said with a smirk.

  “Maybe you need more help. Why not take Gavin’s little brother up on his offer?” Georgia suggested.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Do you even want to help us?” Peggy asked. Her shoulders were squared and she faced Elena with defiance.

  Bob started to laugh. “You’re in for it now, senorita. Don’t piss Peggy off.”

  Elena didn’t back down. She pushed off of her car. “Of course I want to help! You saved my life, but it’s not like there’s an instruction manual for this shit.”

  Peggy flared, her hair growing redder by the second. Elena stared her down and I was getting ready to go stand in between them, when the sound of a car pulling off the highway caught Elena’s attention. Her eyes widened and color drained from her face when she saw a black Jeep come to a stop behind her car.

  She immediately straightened up and tucked the brown folder in the back of her jeans, pulling her shirt loose to conceal the bulge.

  A tall man stepped out of the Jeep. “Elena? What are you doing?” When he got closer, I recognized him. He didn’t seem as uptight without his uniform, but he was definitely the same person who was with Elena when we rescued her and again when she interrupted the reporter.

  “Eric…uh, what are you doing here?”

  “I asked you first, but to answer your question, I was shopping at the outlets for a new pair of sneakers. So what are you doing?” He stood with his legs apart, arms crossed over his chest, and waited for Elena to respond.

  She glanced back over her shoulder. We were all still behind her, even Peggy, which surprised me. Usually when she got pissed off, she went to the spot where she died.

  “I met my brother for lunch in Tempe,” Elena finally said and turned to face Eric again. “I couldn’t help but stop here.”

  Eric didn’t seem convinced. “Huh. It looked like you were arguing with someone.” He walked toward Elena and then around her. He came to a stop directly in front of me. I waved my hand, but he couldn’t see it.

  “I was just talking to myself out loud. I’m still processing what happened out here. Unlike you, I can’t pretend nothing happened.”

  “Elena, it’s better to just let it go and get back to normal.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Elena took a step closer to Eric, forcing him to look at her.

  “Of course I am, but I’d rather keep my job.”

  “This is bigger than a job,” Elena muttered. “Eric, what if I can prove these people are real, will that make a difference?”

  “You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.

  Elena nodded and, taking a deep breath, pulled the folder out from behind her back. With unsteady hands she flipped it open and handed him the information on the foundation Lawrence’s father had started.

  “The whole family died here?” Eric asked when he finished reading.

  “Yes and Lawrence’s spirit has been here ever since.” Next she handed him the unsolved case information on Georgia. I moved to stand beside Eric as he flipped through the pages and saw the black and white crime scene images. After seeing Georgia’s life snuffed out, these seemed a pale representation.

  Eric examined the pictures then surveyed the desert around him. After a couple more times of doing this he walked over to a boulder and turned back to face the highway. “This is where she was killed.”

  Georgia suddenly appeared in front of him, she had a stick in her hand, which Eric saw. He jumped back, but didn’t take his eyes off of it. Georgia squatted and wrote in the sand at his feet: you’re right.

  “Jesus Christ!” Eric went into a crouch and lightly traced the letters with his forefinger as if confirming they were really there. “Who wrote this?”


  Georgia wrote her name in the sand. Eric sucked in his breath and it sounded like a hiccup.

  He was still crouching when Elena placed her hand on Eric’s shoulder and I saw him lean slightly against her legs. “These are real people, Eric. For some reason I can see them even though I never saw a ghost before.” Elena said softly, her voice barely audible above the rumble of tires on the asphalt as traffic passed by.

  Georgia had already dropped the stick and it lay in the sand next to her name. She appeared next to me and I gathered up enough energy to squeeze her hand. She smiled at me, but it wasn’t enough to erase the sadness haunting her eyes.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I died how many years ago and all I’m known as is some unsolved murder. I was raped and left half naked on the side of this goddamn road and those pictures are all he knows about me.” She glared at Eric, who was now standing and talking to Elena. “It’s just so…violating…so humiliating!” Georgia was flickering really fast, alternating between dim and brighter flashes, reminding me of a light bulb getting ready to burn out. In addition to the erratic flashing, Georgia’s energy was increasing, creating a small dust devil beneath her.

  “Hey, Georgia honey, calm down,” I said, but my words had no impact.

  “You don’t understand!” she yelled and disappeared in a flash.

  Elena spun around and looked at me, noticing the cloud of dust settling down where Georgia had been standing.

  I shook my head and left to find Georgia.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  ELENA

  Honestly, I don’t know what possessed me, but it was too late to take back my revelation to Eric. He’d always been able to push my buttons and now he knew what I had been up to. Either he was going to be all in and on my side or real irreparable damage to our somewhat functional relationship had just occurred. I was hoping Georgia’s efforts helped to sway him in my favor. He had to see that this “problem” wasn’t going to go away. I could use his help. Not that I wanted to admit it.