by Adam Scull
A Misplaced Life - Chapter 9 by Kathryn Layne
I tried to appear several times the next day. But, each time I did, the detective seemed
distracted. I thought it might be
me. Perhaps I could no longer appear on
a whim. Maybe I’d drained that energy
away in my time in another realm. I
couldn’t be sure. So I tried his
partner. I followed Jake to the men’s
room and just when he reached for his zipper as he stood before the urinal, I
concentrated. I knew my plan had
succeeded when the man glanced over, jumped and exclaimed, “Jesus Christ!”
Boy, did I high-tail it out of there. Though I was mildly concerned that I’d done
some permanent damage to him, at least I knew I could still appear as a spirit
to others if I desired.
The problem was Sam. I entertained the idea that it had more to do
with a person’s belief system that anything.
If a man was open-minded and he believed in the unexplained, then he
would see more. If, however, an
individual was far too practical, much to the point of excluding things that
might be deemed as inexplicable, then he would go on his merry way, oblivious
to the wonders of the universe.
Sam was a tough nut to crack. I briefly wondered if Julie might have some
influence on him, but there was no time.
She was hardly in a rush to move forward with him and a part of me
couldn’t blame her.
Trent was getting too close to Julie though. She was in danger and I was not corporeal
enough to lend a hand. I needed to find
a way to get Sam on the right trail. If
he suspected Trent, he would dig deeper.
And he might discover something.
I was eerily certain that I was not Trent’s first. Rarely did psychopaths get created from
nothing. It was likely he had done it
before, or many times. And he was so
sure he wouldn’t get caught. His
arrogance was obvious. I had to defeat
him somehow. And I had one more trick up
my sleeve.
I trailed Sam for the rest of the day and followed him
home. When he had taken a shower,
ordered a pizza and downed a beer, I pounced.
I pulled every trick in the book.
I rattled doors and windows, opened and closed cabinets and moved
objects. I got no response, however,
just an eyebrow and then he went right back to watching a game on TV.
I groaned, frustrated.
How could Julie stand him? The
man was infuriating. I stepped over to
his desk and took the case file and pushed it off onto the floor. Papers and photos popped out of the
folder. The picture my parents gave to
the police gave me some pause.
I tried hard, but I could no longer remember the day it
was taken. It seemed like a lifetime
ago. All I could remember was my
parents, Julie and this man across the room.
And Trent, of course.
Tears started in my eyes. I had lost my memories. I tried to picture my house, but there was nothing. I tried to remember what I was wearing the
night of my death, but it didn’t seem to matter. I gasped.
“What’s wrong with me?”
When I looked up, I saw an odd shadow flash briefly in
front of the window across the room and then it slowly faded. Curious, I followed the odd shape to the
door.
I somehow ended up in the corridor of the apartment
building. I followed the abnormal
shape. It was a bright flash, nearly the
color of white, then gray, then it would vanish. I felt compelled to find out what it
was. I followed the object to the
stairwell, where a girl, probably about seventeen, stood leaning against the
wall. She was wearing white pants, a
pale blue shirt and she had hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. For a moment, her eyes met mine and then
slowly shifted away.
I knew then that she could see me. I moved towards her. “Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I’d like to know.”
“My name is Rebecca.”
I took a deep breath.
“Are you…are you like me?”
She shrugged.
“That depends on your definition.”
The girl was starting to grate on my nerves. “Are you following me?”
She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. “You waste your time with the living.”
I felt the burn suddenly in my chest. It was like heartache. “They’re all I have.”
“That’s not true.
There are whole worlds ahead of you if you just open your eyes.”
“My eyes are open.
And I haven’t seen anyone like me until now.”
“I never said I was like you.”
“Then who are you?”
I sighed. “What are you?” I emphasized.
She shook her head.
“I came to give you a chance to move on.”
“How?”
“All you have to do is take my hand and come with
me. I can take you to another place,
where the world of the living will be forgotten.”
I gasped. “I
don’t want to forget! He has to pay for
what he did to me!”
She frowned.
“Vengeance is not the way.”
“I want justice.”
“And over there, all of that will seem insignificant.”
“I don’t want to forget,” I whispered. “Why am I forgetting?”
“You waver between the two worlds. You must choose a side or be lost forever.”
“I won’t forget.
They still need me.”
“Do they? They’re
learning to move on. Perhaps you should
too.”
“I can’t. He’ll
get away with it. I can’t let that
happen.”
“Very well.
You’ve made your choice then. I
can’t promise you’ll have another chance, Alexa. The harder you cling to the living, the
harder it will be to move on if the time comes to make that choice again.”
“I know.”
The girl nodded and started to fade. I reached out to grab at her. “Rebecca?”
She wavered for a moment. “Yes?”
“I am relieved that I’m not the only one here.”
She frowned. “You
are not. Others are struggling too. If you open your eyes, you can see them. Part of what is holding you here is blinding
you. Your revenge has clouded your
judgment. But, if you let yourself, you
will see them. They must make a choice
as you have today. I wish you well,
Alexa Hamilton.”
“Thank you.”
And then she vanished.
I stood in the stairwell for a long time, alone with my
thoughts, before I started back up the stairs, determined more than ever to
convince Sam that I was real and that it was essential to find the proof to
finally put Trent away.
****
I appeared in his apartment, right in front of the
television. It took no effort this
time.
Sam’s gaze widened and he blinked. I had to give him kudos for his composure,
but he stood up so fast his beer can spilled to the floor. That would make an interesting mess. “Holy-“
“Don’t panic,” I began.
“I was desperate. I’m afraid
he’ll go after Julie.”
He frowned. “What
in the hell are you talking about?” Then
he groaned. “I can’t believe this. I’ve completely lost my mind,” he muttered,
sweeping a hand through his hair. “Too
many beers, that’s what it is.”
“You’re not crazy.
Or drunk. It’s me. Alexa Hamilton.”
“I know who you are,” he spat out.
I nodded. “Of
course you do. I imagine you know more
than you want to by now.” I
grimaced. “Well, don’t believe
everything you hear.”
He frowned. “What
do you want?”
“You have to stop him.”
“Who?”
“My killer.”
He released a shaky breath. “I know.
And I will. I never walk away
from a case.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good. But, you’ve overlooked something. He’s getting away with it. And he’s going after Julie.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
I shook my head. “She
knows too much or at least he thinks she does.”
I sighed. “You’ve got to protect
her.”
Sam nodded. “I
will. I promise.”
The burn in my chest eased a little. “Thank you.”
The room grew silent, almost eerie. Sam cleared his throat. “You’re not going to tell me who it is, are
you?”
I shook my head.
“I can’t. There’s no evidence at
the moment. He’s good. He knows the system,” I added, hoping that
the hint would be enough.
Then a hard pain pierced through me suddenly and I
staggered. I heard Sam call my name
distantly just as I was transported.
