“I can’t see him either and I can’t hear him,” I said. “Which is strange, considering I can usually see and hear spirits as easily as if they were living people.”

  “Something here… is different,” Bailey admitted with a quick nod.

  “I think… I think Layla killed her husband,” I said as Marty turned to face me, a question in his eyes and a frown on his face. I hadn’t told him about my nightmares yet, or the fact that I’d seen this house in my dreams. Well, first time for everything.

  NO! I heard from beyond the void, the voice harsh and angry.

  Bailey shook her head as she closed her eyes and held up her hands again. “I don’t think… Layla killed him,” she started. “As soon as you said you thought she did, I heard a voice…”

  “Saying no?” I interrupted as she nodded. “I heard it too. Can you see Danny yet?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Neither can I.”

  “Poppy, Danny died of a heart attack,” Marty said.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I answered.

  Now I was back to square one. If Layla hadn’t killed him, who had? Was it possible Danny really had just died of a heart attack?

  No, that couldn’t be!

  No, it wasn’t that simple. The vision of the monster murdering him refused to allow me to believe it.

  “I’m getting something else,” Bailey started as she whirled around again. I closed my eyes and tried to listen for Danny’s voice, but I couldn’t hear a thing. “Yes… Danny was… murdered, I think Poppy is right,” Bailey finished, and I found myself nodding.

  Marty pursed his lips. “Are you sure, Bails? As far as the death certificate is concerned, Danny died of a heart attack.”

  “I kept hearing the word ‘murder’,” Bailey responded as she continued to feel the air with her eyes closed. “I think Danny was trying to tell me he was murdered.”

  “By whom?” I asked.

  But Bailey shook her head. “Every time he tries to tell me, it’s like he gets… blocked somehow. I can’t make out any of his words.”

  “I can’t hear him at all,” I agreed.

  Marty shook his head. “The doctors did an autopsy, and Danny’s left anterior descending artery was almost completely blocked. They call that artery the widowmaker for a reason.”

  “We know he had a heart attack!” I snapped, a little louder than I intended. “I’m sorry,” I said to Marty and then lowered my voice to a whisper so he and Bailey had to lean in to catch the next words. “But I also know Danny was murdered… because I’ve seen it.”

  “You’ve seen it?” Bailey repeated, opening her eyes as she looked at me.

  I nodded. “I’ve been having these dreams… nightmares… about this house and that man for weeks, without understanding what I was really seeing. But, then I realized it wasn’t just a nightmare. It was a vision.” I took a deep breath. “I believe Danny was reaching out to me and sending me this vision of what… happened to him. Only… in my nightmare it was a creature, a monster, that did him in.”

  Bailey nodded. “I’m also picking up on something—that Danny’s heart attack was brought on by… someone or something else.”

  But, if Layla wasn’t that someone else, who was? Maybe the monster wasn’t an allegory, after all? Maybe the monster was exactly that—a monster? I swallowed hard. I couldn’t make that jump. Not yet. “There’s something evil in this house. And whatever that evil is, I’m pretty sure it killed Danny Clemmons,” I said.

  “Poppy,” Marty started, but Bailey shushed him.

  “Let her finish!”

  I nodded at Bailey. “I don’t believe we’re going to be able to banish Danny’s spirit until his murderer is caught.”

  “And we have no way of knowing who the murderer is since there’s a block between Danny and me,” Bailey said. “I could try to channel him?”

  “That’s dangerous, Bails,” Marty responded as he looked at her.

  “It might be the only way for us to learn who killed him,” I argued. “Especially because I can’t feel or see him at all.”

  “Murder would make sense,” Bailey nodded. “Because I feel anger that wouldn’t fit with a heart attack.” She took a deep breath. “If I channeled him, Danny could tell us more about what happened to him and if this monster… or whatever you saw in your vision state… was actually that, a monster.”

  “He seemed to know what the thing was in the dreams,” I added.

  “Poppy is right,” Bailey nodded. “If Danny was murdered, we won’t be able to cast his spirit out by ordinary means. “I should try to channel him, but I think I should try it in the kitchen because I feel like his energy is strongest downstairs.”

  So we followed Bailey into the kitchen, where Layla was cleaning the dishes. She backed out of the kitchen almost as soon as we entered, leaving her washrag on the bottom rung of a ladder propped off to the side of the fridge.

  At the height of its glory, the kitchen had to have been breathtaking. The cabinets were painted a cream color to offset all the copper accents and kitchen equipment. The ceiling tiles were copper, as well, though many of them were now missing.

  “I feel something… pulling me towards the ceiling,” Bailey said, her eyes closed again and her arms outstretched before her.

  “Like there’s something up there?” I asked as I looked up at the hole in the ceiling. There was nothing but darkness within it, but the hole was large enough to fit a person.

  “Yes, I just feel something pushing me toward the ceiling,” Bailey answered. “Like we should check it out up there.”

  I turned away from her, ignoring the prickling sensation at the base of my skull that told me running would be wise. Instead, I crossed over to the metal ladder and began moving it over, beneath the large, gaping hole in the ceiling.

  I took the first step as Marty’s voice stopped me.

  “Poppy, let me go up.”

  “It’s okay,” I said and took another step. I felt the same draw Bailey was talking about—this need to climb up the ladder and find out what was in the hole. Yet, I couldn’t feel anything else that might hint to Danny. Strange..

  “I’ll catch you if you fall,” Marty said with a tentative smile as he steadied the ladder with his large hands.

  I nodded, throat too tight to speak. My arms and legs felt numb, like I was a limp marionette being manipulated by an unseen hand. The open window let in a frigid breeze that lifted my hair, the collar of my blouse, and sent more goosebumps rippling across my skin. I took a few more steps up the ladder and then felt a shiver of fear race through me.

  I heard Bailey crack her knuckles and turned to watch her sink into the only remaining kitchen chair that was standing upright. Her eyelids fluttered closed again and she began mouthing words I couldn’t hear. Cold swelled in the room, raising goosebumps on my arms.

  “Danny Clemmons, hear my voice. I am a beacon, your vessel and your voice on this side of the veil. Come to me now, and tell us what happened to you,” Bailey said.

  The wind picked up, so arctic that it seemed to slash through my clothes and sink deep into my skin. This was no simple cross-breeze. The feeling of numbness intensified with every step up the ladder, until my fingers felt like clumsy gloves. I gritted my teeth and hauled myself up to the last rung of the ladder, shifting my upper body into the hole itself. Now bathed in darkness, I blinked repeatedly, waiting for several seconds as my vision struggled to adjust.

  When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw something... a white sack leaning against the far end of the space.

  “There’s something back there,” I said. “It looks like a sack of something.”

  “Can you reach it?” Marty asked.

  “No, not without crawling all the way in.”

  And that was when I heard a low growl coming out of the darkness inside the space. I felt my heart start to beat in earnest as something crawled out of the darkness, something massive and vaguely animalistic. Something covered in fur. I wasn’t sure how the thing was even managing to stay inside the space, without breaking through the ceiling to the kitchen below.

  But, I also didn’t want to stay and figure it out.

  Before I could start scurrying down the ladder again, a strong, cold hand seized me by the ankle and whipped me from the gap like an adult preventing their misbehaving toddler from climbing back up a slide. I fell backward with a yelp, losing my footing on the ladder as Marty struggled to keep it stable.

  But it was too late. My feet slipped off the ladder and starbursts flashed before my eyes as soon as my head made impact with the cupboards behind me. Then the world started running in streamers of color as I hit the ground… hard.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marty was standing right in front of me, close enough that I could reach out and touch him. And he was staring at me. Before I knew what was happening, he leaned down and enclosed my lips with his. And his lips were warm, full. His tongue took me by surprise as it pushed past my own lips and then mated with my tongue.

  I heard myself moan as I collapsed against him, cradled by his strong arms. And then his hands were on me—in my hair, on my face, my breasts…

  “Now you’re on the trolley!”

  My eyes blinked open, and I found myself staring at a white ceiling as something beeped in the near distance. My hand groped along until it met something solid and my fingers closed around a slim metal railing. I cracked my eyes open and squinted blearily at my hand. Sure enough, it was wrapped around a metal rail. A hospital bed railing.

  Before I could open my mouth to ask what the hell had happened and where the hell I was, Darla popped into my line of sight.

  “You were havin’ a hanky-panky dream, doll,” she said with a huge grin as a blush spread across my cheeks at the realization that not only had I been having a ‘hanky-panky’ dream, but she’d witnessed it!

  I tried to shake my head, but was in a world of pain when I did.

  “I felt like tellin’ you the bank was closed!”

  “The bank?” I grumbled as she nodded. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

  “Yes, ma’am! That’s what you tell someone to get them to stop smooching.” Then she started giggling as she floated down to my bedside and pretended to take a seat beside me. “And here I thought you were just another bluenose! Turns out you’re the cat’s pajamas!”

  “Where am I?” I asked as I glanced around and recognized a hospital room when I saw one. But how…

  “Looks like you’ve been committed, dollface,” Darla answered, shaking her head like the whole thing was a big shame. “But let’s get back to that dream you were having! You were moanin’ up a storm!” Then she started kissing the air and making wet-sounding noises which thoroughly grossed me out.

  “Darla, what are you doing here?”

  She motioned to my necklace. “Well, I buzzed on over as soon as I realized you weren’t home when you were supposed to be. An’ I’m thinkin’ that exorcist, who sometimes drops the kid off, pulled a clean sneak.” She nodded. “I’m sorry, dollface, I know you’re fond o’ the kid.”

  “Exorcist?” I repeated, shaking my head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Yeah, that handsome cat who’s been hangin’ around a lot lately.”

  “Marty?”

  She nodded. “I think he took the kid an’ beat it.”

  “Marty didn’t kidnap Finn,” I grumbled as the pieces started to fall into place. Marty, Bailey and I had been at Layla Clemmons’ and I’d climbed up the ladder to investigate the dark hole in the ceiling and… I must have fallen off the ladder and passed out, ending up in the hospital. Marty must have picked Finn up from school and when he didn’t come by the house, Darla realized something was up.

  “So back to this dream of yours… who you carryin’ the torch for, huh?”

  I ignored her. But, that didn’t matter because once started, Darla was near impossible to stop.

  “An’ the most important question: did he slip you his dingus?”

  “Darla,” I groaned.

  “You were makin’ these kissy sounds an’ I was startin’ to get envious!” She paused for a second. “So… who you stuck on? You can tell me! I can keep a secret, swear.”

  “Darla, I order you to return to the house,” I managed, even as my head pounded with the exertion it took to speak.

  “An’ just like that, you’re back to being the flat tire.” She pouted, wrapping her arms across her flat chest as she frowned at me.

  At least she disappeared. After a few seconds of making sure she really was gone, I fell back to sleep.

  ***

  I woke to the smell of chicken soup.

  My hands fisted reflexively in the blanket that covered me, and I moaned. My head felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton, the inside of my mouth tasted like bile, and my stomach roiled.

  “Finn?” I called out, alarmed.

  “Sorry to disappoint,” a familiar, rumbling bass voice said from nearby. “It’s just me… I brought you some soup.”

  I raised a hand to rub the crusties out of my eyes and an IV pulled at the skin of my hand. It stung and forced me to blink rapidly to clear my vision. When the streaky picture finally resolved itself, I found Roy Osbourne sitting at my bedside.

  Roy Osbourne?

  “The doctors say you should be free to go soon. You have a concussion, but they ruled out anything worse.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  He cocked his head to the side. “A few hours.”

  And then I remembered Darla’s visit and immediately starting looking for her in the room. Luckily, I didn’t see her anywhere.

  “Do you remember what happened?” Roy asked.

  “No,” I started and shook my head as I looked from him to the door to my room and back at him again. “I’m surprised they let you in.”

  I mean, he wasn’t family, and we weren’t even dating… and last I’d checked, hospital workers weren’t going to just let anyone in. So, how had he managed…

  He chuckled. “I can be… persuasive.”

  An absurd little pang echoed through me. Why wasn’t Marty standing at my bedside? Hadn’t we been together when... and then it all fell in on me—everything that had happened leading up to this point.

  I sat up straighter. “Oh my God,” I hissed. “Danny Clemmons pushed me!”

  Roy leaned over and deposited a Styrofoam to-go soup container on my bedside table. He strained the limits of the chair, looking about five seconds away from hulking out and breaking the fragile thing. He seemed utterly relaxed, and even so, his muscles bulged beneath his flannel shirt. Dressed like he was, he really did look like he was auditioning for the part of the paper towel man.

  “I think you’re confused, Poppy,” he started and looked at me with a piteous expression. “Danny Clemmons is dead.”

  “But,” I started and shook my head.

  “You slipped and whacked your noggin and then you passed out, so Marty called for an ambulance. And now here you are.”

  “I know Danny’s dead,” I said, and couldn’t help the agitation that crept into my voice. The heart monitor picked up its pace, reporting the rising tempo. “Why do you think I was there with Bailey and Marty? We were trying to make contact with him.”

  “Why?” Roy asked, frowning.

  “Well, eventually to cast him out.” I took a breath. “Except, I don’t think he can be cast out. His wasn’t an ordinary death.” I shook my head as I looked up at Roy and found him studying me.

  “Wasn’t an ordinary death?”

  “No,” I said and shook my head again. “He was frightened to death.”

  “I thought he had a heart attack?”

  “That’s the story, but it doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”

  “And what do you believe the truth is?” Roy asked, leaning back in his chair as he continued to stare at me.

  “Um… what are you doing here again?” I asked, not meaning to sound rude, but there it was.

  Roy inclined his head to me, something flickering in the back of his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. “I came here to warn you to leave this whole… case alone.”

  “Leave it alone?” I repeated, shaking my head because I didn’t understand. Why would he care about this case? Apparently he did—enough to come visit me in the hospital. Or maybe it wasn’t the case he cared about...

  He nodded. “You’re in over your head, Poppy.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  One of my hands seemed to be bound by wires, so I raised the other to knead my temple. My head throbbed in time with my heart, and even the low light trickling in from the hall hurt my eyes.

  “There are certain… things going on in this town that should be left well enough alone,” he said.

  “Things as in murder?” I demanded, getting defensive and angry all at the same time.

  “Things,” he finished and then just studied me for a few seconds. “I came by once I heard you got hurt because I wanted to warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “Not to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  I glared at him. “And why are you getting yourself involved in this?”

  “Because I want to be involved… I don’t want to see anything… bad happen to you, Poppy.”

  “Something bad happen to me?”

  “Haven Hollow isn’t like other towns,” he started.

  “You know about what happened to Danny, don’t you?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “I don’t know what happened to Danny, other than he died from a heart attack. What I do know is that strange things happen to people in this town who ask too many questions. And I would hate for you to become one of those statistics.”

  I swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure if he was warning me or threatening me. “Where’s Marty?” I asked. “Or Bailey? Or Finn?”