Page 31 of The Curse of Redwood
“Forgiveness isn’t needed, darling.” With a soft smile on his ghostly lips, Theo grazed a finger across Ben’s jaw.
Though they lived a world apart, I felt the intensity of their love. Funny how I no longer felt jealous. Maybe because I had Z? Then again, I didn’t exactly have him. He wanted me one moment and told me to leave the next.
When Ben asked me again to tell him what was wrong, I spilled everything. I told him I’d returned to Redwood to see Z, and then I recounted the way the mansion had burst with paranormal activity at the stroke of midnight.
“And the dreams about Ezekiel? Are you still having them?”
I nodded. “Awake, asleep, it doesn’t matter. I think I’m going crazy, Ben.” My chest tightened with fear when I remembered the blond man I’d seen in my living room a few days ago. “There’s something else too. I saw a ghost in my house. But he wasn’t like Theo. He seemed… I don’t know, mean or something.”
“Was it Harvey?” Theo asked, appearing right beside me.
Harvey was my great-great grandfather who had died in WWII. He and Theo had been lovers before Theo’s death.
“No. This was someone I didn’t recognize. But… I felt like I knew him from somewhere. Then, he attacked me. I can still feel his hands around my throat. It was only a nightmare because I woke up after it, but it felt so real.”
“If itwasreal, how is it possible?” Ben asked, the game of chess between us forgotten. “A ghost only haunts the property in which they were killed, or a place that held significance to them while alive. Why would a random ghost attack you?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s tied to Redwood. Everything that’s happened to me started there. The nightmares, the daydreams. The longer I stay away, the worse they get.” I breathed in deep, trying to steady my nerves. “I have to go back.”
There was something I wanted to do first, though.
After leaving Ben’s house, I drove to the public library. Florence wasn’t nearly as friendly as she’d been last time.
“What can I do for you?” she asked in a bored tone.
“Um, yeah. Hi. Can I see that book of Redwood records again? The one written by Charlie Michaels?”
“I’m really not supposed to let people back there unsupervised,” she said, eyeing me through her glasses.
“I won’t touch anything else, I promise. Just the book.”
Though she grumbled under her breath about it, she led me to the back room and told me to sit at the table while she brought over the book. Once alone, I flipped through the entries. Searching. The angry blond from my nightmare intrigued me.
Who was he? One of the Redwood ghosts, or had he just been a figment of my imagination?
The book gave me no answers.
Charlie Michaels had put together every known resident of the mansion—stopping after the dinner party massacre—and had recounted their deaths in elaborate detail. He’d probably been granted access to the police reports. Michaels had died before he’d been able to do anything with the book he’d worked so hard on.
I sighed and slumped back in the chair, pushing the book away from me. That’s when I saw it: a folded edge of a loose piece of paper barely poking out from the back of the book. I pulled it out and opened it, seeing writing at the top.
Most of the spirits are accounted for. But who is the woman in the black gown? She terrifies me.
Michaels had seen the ghosts. Was that the purpose of this book? He was a writer, after all. Had he intended to publish his findings, to make money off the misfortune of others? More questions and not enough answers. I re-read the line about the woman. Like Ben, Michaels had seen Lady Death.
Would I eventually see her too?
By the time I left the library, clouds had rolled in and thunder rumbled in the distance. It felt like a sign from the universe to keep me away from the mansion. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I fished it out.
“Hello?”
“Hey, C,” Rich said. “You busy tonight? Taylor’s hangin’ with me, and we wanted you to come chill with us.”
Sign number two to stay away.
“Sounds good,” I answered, staring up at the dark sky as I walked through the parking lot toward my car. “I’ll be over soon.”
Redwood would have to wait.
