Page 76 of Girl, Haunted

‘Oh God,’ she breathed. ‘Is that...?’

A mask. Stark white against the green-tinged darkness. Perched on a high shelf, nestled between dusty tomes.

Not just any mask.Themask. The one from the crime scene photos. The one their killer had planted on Benjamin Clarke's face in death.

She hit play again. Watched as Carter's camera panned past the shelf. The mask vanished from view, swallowed up by the darkness.

Ella rewound once more. Freeze-framed on that single, damning image.

Ghostlight Books.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

The moment Luca read the sign ‘Writing Circle: Thursdays’ in the window of Ghostlight Books, he knew nothing was going to stop him getting inside. Not protocol, not the prospect of a homicidal maniac lurking within. The old metal strip trick had worked wonders again, even more so on a door as old as this one.

The shop's interior hit him like a wall of musty air. With his gun drawn, he crept through the narrow aisles that housed paperbacks on towering shelves on either side. A real claustrophobe’s nightmare, and each step kicked up puffs of dust that had Luca holding back sneezes left and right. A trickle of light seeped in through the windows, giving Luca just enough visibility to make his way through without toppling anything over.

‘FBI,’ he shouted. ‘Come out slowly.’

Nothing but silence answered back.

Luca turned to the row of shelves beside his head and saw books that followed a certain theme. Horror, folklore, myths and superstitions. ‘Occult Murders of the 19th Century’ rubbed shoulders with ‘A History of Demonic Possession.’ A whole section devoted to local legends and ghost stories dominated the back wall. Luca pulled out a tome at random: ‘Hauntings of the Pacific Northwest.’ Luca doubted this place stocked much Nora Roberts.

No Nora Roberts and no signs of life. As he stepped through, more shelves greeted him, more shadows. A ratty armchair slumped in one corner, a reading lamp perched beside it like a metal vulture. Luca prowled the perimeter and found columns of unsorted books at his feet. All second-hand, judging by the battered spines. A side section opened up into a small reading area. Overstuffed armchairs gathered around a stone fireplace.Cold ashes filled the grate. How long had it been since a fire burned here?

A door off to the side caught his attention. He tried the handle. Locked. Luca considered his options. Breaking down doors wasn't exactly subtle, but then again, neither was wandering around a closed bookstore without a warrant.

He was about to give the door a solid kick when something else caught his eye. A staircase, tucked away in a corner. It led up to a second floor he hadn't noticed before.

Luca hesitated. Upstairs meant being further from an exit if things went south. But it also meant a better vantage point. A place where secrets might be hidden.

He started up the stairs and found more of the same, but the space was dominated by an old wooden counter complete with an ancient till.

And when Luca got closer, something else caught his eye.

A stack of papers sat on the countertop. Neat. Orderly. Almost like they’d been left there on the purpose.

Luca’s gut clenched when he read the title page.

Ghost Writings.

‘What the f…?’

Cute joke, Luca thought, but curiosity propelled him further. He flipped over the top page to the second.

To be published upon my death,the note read in the center of the paper.

This had to be the work of some wannabe author, maybe someone from the writing group here. He flipped to the next page and started reading.

The Cursed Teddy Bear of Yamhill County.

Old Gus hadn't been the same since his sister went missing. Stopped going to school, stopped hanging with friends. Just holed up in his room, whispering to that ratty old bear she'd left behind.

Gus swore that bear knew something. Said it watched him with its button eyes, mocking him. So he did what any sane eleven-year-old would – he punished it.

He tore out its eyes and buried it in the backyard under a full moon. Thought that'd teach it a lesson. But as the last shovelful of dirt hit the bear's face, Gus heard it whisper:

‘You shouldn't have done that, Augustus. Now I'll never tell you where she is.’

---