Roy nodded. “Your son is here. Marty took him to the cafeteria to get something to eat.”

  And it was then that I wanted to turn to the next question in my mind. “What are you doing here, Roy?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  I eyed him narrowly. “How did you even know to come to the hospital to begin with?”

  Roy shrugged. “Haven Hollow is a small town. News travels fast. You can expect an avalanche of get-well cards in the next few days. People like you, Poppy. I like you.”

  He pressed his palms flat against the arms of the chair and pushed himself free of the chair, inch by inch. “But, if you’d rather I go…”

  “Don’t go,” I said, almost on instinct. “The soup was thoughtful. Thank you.” Heat crept into my face. The look in his intense gray gaze stoked a fire in me. A fire that hadn’t been stoked for years. Maybe it was the concussion, but, when I looked at him, I didn’t second-guess the feeling. I liked Roy, and he seemed to like me. “Did you at least bring me a spoon?” I asked.

  Roy smiled and produced a plastic spoon from the interior pocket of his jacket, then handed it to me.

  I ate a few bites of the soup in silence. The soup settled, even on my queasy stomach, and I had to admit it was probably the best thing I’d tasted since the brisket I’d had at his restaurant.

  “Can you tell me about what happened?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Apparently, I’m in the hospital after a ghost tugged me off a ladder with intent to splatter my brains on the floor.”

  I took another sip of soup when Marty sidled into the room. My first thought was of the x-rated dream I’d been having, and I immediately started to blush. When he saw me awake, his expression brightened into something joyful, like watching sun break across the horizon. The enthusiasm dimmed a little when he spied Roy in the bedside chair.

  “Roy?”

  “Marty,” Roy said, his greeting just as terse. “How’s Finn?”

  “He’s calmed down,” Marty said with a grimace as he faced me. “Finn was really worried about you, Pops.”

  It was the way he said my nickname—like he wanted Roy to know we were on a familiar level. Or maybe that was just in my head?

  “Can I see him?” I asked, wanting nothing more than to assure my little boy that his mama was going to be just fine.

  Marty nodded. “He’s downstairs with Bailey and RJ, eating a snack.” He looked at Roy and then at me again. “I… uh… I can go get him.”

  “No,” Roy said, again pushing his way from the chair inch by inch. “I’ll go grab the gang from the cafeteria and then I need to dash. Have to get back to the restaurant,” he said with a shrug. “Get well soon, Poppy. I’m glad you’re alright.”

  He waved a hand airily over his shoulder as he left. Marty tracked him until he disappeared around the corner and waited until his footsteps had faded entirely before he spoke.

  “What did Roid want?” he asked mildly.

  “Roid?”

  “Yeah. Like hemorrhoid?”

  I nodded. “I got it.”

  “Not funny?”

  I sighed. “Roy’s a decent guy, from what I can tell. He’s been very nice, and he brought me chicken soup.”

  “He’s part of the Haven Hollow Cult.”

  “Council,” I corrected him. “At least that’s what Roy called it.”

  “Council, cult… what’s the difference?”

  “I think there’s a pretty big difference,” I said, shaking my head. “Regardless, I hardly think Roy is plotting to induct me into some… society.”

  Marty visibly deflated, sinking into the chair Roy had vacated. He scrubbed at his eyes, age seeming to pile onto him before my eyes. So often he looked younger than his actual age. He was so boisterous and boyish, it was easy to forget he was actually older than I was.

  “Sorry, Poppy, I shouldn’t have asked.” He took a breath. “Whatever is going on with you and Roy… it isn’t my business.”

  “Nothing is going on between us.” At least, not yet. Maybe not ever.

  “Then why’d he come to see you?”

  I shrugged. “To make sure I was okay?”

  He nodded and then gave me a smile that said he didn’t buy it. “Let me start over again. I’m glad you’re going to be okay. How’s your head feel?”

  “Like it’s full of packing peanuts and about to be shipped off by UPS. How are you and Bailey? Did I land on either of you?” Then I paused as I tried to remember. “What happened?”

  “Bailey was channeling Danny’s spirit when you started up the ladder. Then you fell off the ladder and hit your head. You went limp as a rag doll in my arms, Poppy. I thought...” His voice tapered off to a whisper and his expression grew pinched. “I understand why ghosts frighten you now. I didn’t know they… could do that. If I ever thought you might get hurt, I never would have asked you along.”

  “I’m fine,” I said and waved away his concern. “And I’m sure you guys haven’t given up on cleansing the Clemmons House yet?”

  He shook his head. “Bailey wants to try to channel Danny again tonight.”

  “I need to help.”

  “No, you need to stay away. We can handle it.”

  “No.” I surprised even myself with the firm conviction in my voice. “I’m not sitting this one out. You need me.”

  “Poppy, do I need to remind you that you’re sitting in a hospital bed?”

  “I’m fine. At least, that’s what the doctors said.”

  “Yeah, fine to get released to go home and go to bed!” he responded. “I’m sure they’d crap a brick if they knew you were planning on going back to the house where this happened in the first place!”

  I frowned. “Well, then you’d better not tell them.”

  It was his turn to frown. “Poppy, I’m being serious.”

  “So am I.” I inhaled deeply. “I’m not done with this case, yet. I want to find a way to banish that poltergeist. Now it’s personal.”

  Marty shook his head. “Poppy…”

  “The lives of two little girls could be in jeopardy, not to mention… your life. And Bailey’s.”

  “Poppy, I promised Finn you wouldn’t come back with us.”

  That gave me cause for pause. I hated breaking promises to my son, and I wouldn’t live this one down for a long time. “I need to talk to Finn, to explain you need me.”

  “Poppy…”

  “It’s too dangerous for you and Bailey to take on by yourselves. You must see that, Marty?”

  “McFly.”

  “McFly.”

  He shook his head, ever the stubborn ass. “We have RJ and Henner.”

  I shook my head. “It’s still not enough. You know that as well as I do.”

  He grew quiet because he couldn’t argue. He knew he needed me as much as I knew he needed me. “What about Finn? He’ll hate me if I put you in danger again.”

  “He won’t hate you. Finn doesn’t hate anyone. I just need to explain to him that many people could get hurt unless I help. He’ll understand.”

  He had to understand… hopefully.

  Marty’s scowl was deep. “I’m not talking you out of it, am I?”

  “No.”

  Then he sighed. “Fine, but rest first and if the doctor decides to keep you in the hospital, we’re proceeding without you.”

  “Deal.”

  He still didn’t look happy about it, but I trusted him to keep his word.

  “Mom!” Finn yelled as he burst into the room and ran to my bedside, throwing his arms around me.

  “I’m okay, sweetie,” I whispered into his ear. I could feel his hot tears already splashing on my cheeks.

  “I was so worried about you, Mom.”

  “Everything is going to be fine.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  One Day Later

  “Why is there a casket in the back of your hearse?” I asked Marty as we pulled into town.

  “Oh, it’s courtesy of Lorcan and his strange sense of humor. He said I could have the hearse as long as I didn’t remove the coffin.”

  Finn was home with a somber RJ standing vigil. After a very lengthy conversation with my son, in which I spelled out how important it was for me to help Marty, Henner and Bailey, he finally agreed to let me go, though he wasn’t happy about it.

  RJ seemed fine with the idea of babysitting (aka watching WWE) on my sofa. Little did he know that Darla was delighted, owing to the fact that she could continue to rub all over him like a cat in heat.

  As to the inside of Marty’s hearse, I hadn’t been expecting an actual casket! I looked back at the thing in question. “Lorcan’s weird sense of humor or not, that thing is expensive!”

  “It is?” Marty asked with a shrug.

  “Yeah, it’s a ‘Regent’ copper casket. One of my loaded uncles was buried in one. Adjusted for inflation, that thing is probably worth upwards of four thousand dollars! And it’s just sitting in the back of your hearse…”

  Marty blinked, nonplussed, and almost missed his turnoff. He hastily flicked his signal on, even though there was no one in the vicinity. After the sun set, Haven Hollow was in a sleepy, near silent state.

  “Four thousand?” he repeated.

  “Or thereabouts. Point is, it’s an obscene amount of money to leave laying around in the back of a hearse… as a joke.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’ll ask him about it next time I see him, not that Lorcan’s hurting for money. He’s probably the wealthiest person in Haven Hollow.”

  Marty turned onto the Clemmons’ street, a blinking street lamp strobing over the nearby houses in an almost eerie fashion. I swore I saw something large and horned moving in the shadows parallel to us, but when I craned my neck to check, all I received was a burst of potent nausea and the vague impression of a mastiff disappearing around a corner.

  “Maybe I really am going crazy,” I muttered, clutching my stomach tight.

  “Crazy?” Marty asked, looking over at me.

  I’d been warned the aftereffects of the concussion would be unpleasant and… they were. “I just keep jumping at shadows.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself,” Marty said, a frown creasing his face. “You aren’t crazy. You’ve just… been through a lot, Pops.”

  “I’m convinced a monster gave a man a heart attack,” I said with a sigh and a shake of my head. “And that man was so upset about it, he stuck around and became a poltergeist that terrorized his own nieces.” I shook my head again. “What logical explanation is there for that? I really doubt Allison or Hannah decided to go Seed of Chucky on their uncle. Not to mention that there aren’t any such things as monsters!”

  “Well, as crazy as the whole thing sounds,” he started, cocking his head to the side. “And it does sound pretty crazy, Bailey believes you and I do too.”

  I looked over at him and frowned. “You don’t believe in monsters.”

  “Well, let’s just say that after meeting you and learning about your… abilities, I’m more open than I was.”

  “Thanks, McFly,” I said with a smile. “I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

  Marty pulled the hearse into the driveway, parking next to Bailey’s Mazda. She and Henner were leaning against the hood. Henner had brought the ghost hunting supplies, though setup was going to take longer without RJ to unload the heavier pieces of equipment. Bailey, while fit, had a job to do (channeling Danny) that would require most of her strength. And Marty had promised Finn that he’d remain glued to my side all evening. After what happened to me earlier, I wasn’t sure I could lift a Solo cup, let alone what Henner had piled into the Mazda’s trunk.

  As soon as I stepped out of the hearse, Bailey walked up to me and engulfed me in a hug. While I was surprised, I returned it. Then she pressed up on tiptoe and laid the back of her hand flat against my forehead.

  “Honey, you look like death warmed over. Are you sure you should even be here? When Marty told me you were coming, I couldn’t believe it.” She took a breath. “You know you still don’t have to go in? I can channel Danny and we can wait to do the exorcism until you’re feeling better. You could sit in the car and wait until I’m done channeling him.”

  I batted her hand away impatiently and started staggering for the door. The throb at the base of my skull seemed to grow worse with every step toward the house. It was like the poltergeist was battering a ghostly fist against my bones and screaming ‘leave!’ with every blow. It was probably a good idea to stay out of things.

  But I’d never been good at minding my own business.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, and continued up the stairs to the covered porch. “I didn’t come all the way out here just to wait in the car.”

  All occupants of the house were out, staying with relatives nearby. The glaring absence of life inside was palpable. The windows yawned like miniature black holes, and an unsettling conviction sank into my bones, right along with the drumming tempo of the ghost’s inaudible cry.

  I took a deep breath, leaned a little further into Marty’s side, and nearly got blown backwards. The second the door opened, an arctic gale swept through the gap, lifted my hair, and hit my face like a sandblaster. A million shards of icy cold stung my face, pulled tears from the corners of my eyes, and made me gasp. By the time the wind died down, something had slammed the door closed in our faces. If I hadn’t felt Danny before, I felt him now.

  “Looks like Danny doesn’t want visitors,” I mumbled.

  “Tough,” Bailey answered, coming level with us.

  Henner staggered in the space behind her, his arms trembling with the exertion of carrying the ghost hunting gear.

  Bailey nudged me out of the way and laid her small hands flat against the front door.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Danny. Either you let us in or I summon you from out here and believe me, you won’t like that.”

  That same chill breeze swirled like a small eddy in the yard, tossing leaves into the air. The naked boughs of the trees shuddered and groaned, and one snapped menacingly at the roof of the house. Still, there was no sign of Danny in the flesh, er, ectoplasm.

  “Can you see him?” I asked Bailey.

  “No, but I can feel him.”

  The wind continued to swirl, seething like a gaseous whirlpool in the air.

  “Poppy, give me the Gris Gris Oil,” Bailey said. “Please.”

  Bailey could channel Danny without any oils, but the Gris Gris Oil would give her a boost. Ordinarily, it took her twenty minutes to a half hour of dedicated energy and focus to summon someone from the ether. Less if the spirit was earthbound, but only by a small margin. Gris Gris Oil was an old Voudoun recipe for all-purpose power, and it would cut that twenty minutes down to ten. You were meant to use it in any situation where added energy was needed. With a spirit this violent and strong, the Gris Gris Oil was definitely needed.

  Bailey knelt and began unloading a series of trick candles, arranging them in a circle around her. The trick candles were necessary for ghosts like Danny, who tried to sabotage the ritual by blowing them out. Most spirits wanted to be heard, but just a few were stubborn.

  “Go,” she said, waving us on impatiently. “I’ll join you inside when I’ve been able to lasso him.”

  Marty tried the knob again and, sure enough, the door swung open. Henner was quick behind him and plopped the heavy equipment in the center of the room, before he started setting it up. He made a few more trips to the Mazda. When he was all done, Henner closed the front door behind him and then flicked on a flashlight, sweeping it over the house as he, apparently, searched for a light switch.

  In the light of the flashlight, I could see that most of the furniture had been pulverized in the short time since we’d last been here. The TV had crashed to the floor, the carpet was yanked free, and the hardwood beneath looked like a cat’s scratching post.

  “Um, boss,” Henner said mildly. “I’m pretty sure a ghost can’t do this.”

  “We’ve seen them interact with objects before,” Marty responded, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “But a ghost’s ectoplasm can only mimic the body it had in life, right?” Henner asked. “And, by the way, the light switch didn’t work.”

  “Big surprise,” I muttered. “And to answer your question: ghosts can only mimic the body they once had… for the most part.”

  “Did Danny Clemmons have claws?” Henner asked.

  Marty followed the line of Henner’s finger and I heard him swallow audibly. Like me, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the space for very long. The gouges were inches deep through hardwood. What sort of creature was big enough to make them? A mountain lion? A bear? Something bigger?

  The shadow creature in your nightmares?

  “The monster in my nightmare had claws,” I started as I pointed at the claw marks.

  “You know what,” Marty began breathlessly. “That monster idea doesn’t seem quite as implausible...”

  And that was when I felt something—the presence of someone else. I turned my head at the exact moment that the front door snapped open and blew a freezing wind into the house. Just as quickly, it slammed shut, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when the wind extinguished Henner’s flashlight. My nails bit crescents into Marty’s forearm. He sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t shake me off.

  “Bailey?” I whispered.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” a female voice hissed in response.

  The only trickle of illumination came from the moonlight streaming through the windows, and even then, the rays were wavering and weak. It took precious seconds to get my bearings. And in those seconds, I heard an ominous click of a hammer being drawn back.

  Henner must have fixed his flashlight, because a flood of bright light washed across the room, illuminating the figure that was crouched next to the door, waiting with a gun.

  Barbra still looked drawn and defeated, but her arm didn’t shake as she pointed the revolver at Marty’s chest.

  “You should have left well enough alone.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The air itself seemed to quiver with fear, but none of us moved. I couldn’t have drawn in enough breath to scream if I’d tried. My eyes just kept making a circuit from the revolver clutched in Barbra’s hand up to her grimly determined face.