Page 7 of Last Resort

In his experience, and from what he understood from people who were actual mediums, most spirits went on to the afterlife unassisted. A few resisted leaving the mortal world, usually because of unfinished business or the need to protect loved ones. Some clung to this world out of fear of what the next might hold.

Others, like Catherine, just took a “wrong turn.”

“Would you like me to show you the way?” He gave an encouraging smile.

“Yes, please. I’m very tired.”

Erik closed his eyes and concentrated on her faint energy as he spoke words of blessing, giving encouragement and permission to move on.

In his mind’s eye, Erik saw the ghost take on a faint glow. Her expression turned from discomfort to astonishment.

“Oh. That’s it. Thank you so much.”Catherine turned and faded into the glow that had limned her form.

“Go in peace, Catherine,” Erik murmured. He reached for the cup of coffee he had set nearby, needing the caffeine and sugar to replenish his energy.

The next piece was a palm-sized, cream colored porcelain swan edged in gold. Erik guessed it might have held mints or a personal serving of sugar in its open back. He didn’t sense any harm or actual ghosts, just deep wistfulness and the faint image of a long-ago wedding.

Most people didn’t realize how much the objects around them soaked up their emotions. When they found an item at a flea market or curio shop that seemed to pull them in, they were reacting on a subconscious level to that emotional resonance. And when someone shied away from an heirloom because it “gave them the creeps,” the same was true.

Erik had long believed that the majority of people had some level of psychic sensitivity, something that usually got brushed off as intuition or imagination. They were either attracted or repelled by pre-owned items without ever knowing why. Those who picked up no resonance at all were the ones who could own objects with checkered pasts and never seemed to notice.

For the swan dish, Erik tried a simple cleansing litany, saying the words as he lit a candle and burned protective herbs in a chalice. He let the smoke from the herbs gather around the swan and passed the candle flame back and forth over the piece. The emotions gradually drained away, leaving the figurine inert—harmless and ethical to resell.

Erik reached into the box and found the next item—a man’s ring. The large square garnet looked blood red against its gold setting. Erik picked up the piece and shuddered despite his protective gloves.

While the ring was well-crafted and the stone valuable, Erik knew immediately why it had ended up in the box. The emotions oozing from the jewelry were thick with anger, jealousy, and vindictiveness. Whoever had worn the ring had been desperately unhappy, filled with rage, and convinced they had been cheated by life.

Erik caught his breath at the strength of the emotions and recoiled when he realized that it also came with a faded ghost.

The florid-faced man looked to be in his late seventies, with a fringe of gray hair and bushy eyebrows. He had broad shoulders and a barrel chest, and from his stance, Erik figured the man was used to shoving and pushing his way through life.

“Who are you?”the ghost demanded, noticing Erik.“Fix this immediately. I can’t be dead. I have a board meeting.”

Whatever appointment the spirit wanted to keep was likely fifty years long gone.

“You’re dead,” Erik told him. “I can help you move on, but I can’t send you back.”

“If you can’t fix this, get me someone who can. I’m a very busy man.”

“You can remain tied to your ring or move on to the afterlife. Those are your only choices.”

The spirit let out a howl of rage and flung itself toward Erik. Erik recoiled although his salt barrier stopped the angry ghost before it could reach him.

The specter hurled himself against the warding, cursing and shrieking. Erik drew a calming breath and began to recite a banishment ritual, adding more leaves to those in the chalice and wafting the smoke toward the ghost.

“You no longer have a claim to this world. It is time to leave this realm and move on. Be gone, angry soul, and trouble this place no more.”

If the man hadn’t already been dead, apoplexy probably would have killed him. He grew red in the face, spewing threats and raising his fist against the barrier.

Erik saw when the banishment took hold, thinning the ghost’s outline and muffling his shouts. Seconds later, the spirit seemed to realize it too, and his eyes widened in fear.

“What’s going on? You can’t do this! I deserve more time. I demand you change?—”

The ghost vanished between one blink and the next in silence, not even a faintpopto mark his passing.

“Go in peace and trouble the living no more.” Erik gulped his coffee and reached for the candy bar he kept handy for this type of work. After he had finished both, he felt fortified enough to face the last two pieces.

The first was the Commodore Wilson plate from that day’s shipment. Erik examined the dish carefully and frowned. He had seen many other serving pieces from the old hotel since auctioning off its inventory had been a major event in Cape May.

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