Noah moved to the back wall. “Someone’s been here,” he said.
I peered around him and saw that the compartment door had handprints in the dust.
Noah stuck his head through the wall. When he came out again he was frowning. “My remains are gone.”
I went still. “What?”
He turned to me, anger and shock all over his face. “Someone took my bones, Wren. Who would take my bones?”
I stuck my own head into the compartment, through the coffin, and looked inside. It was indeed empty, but it was obvious that there had been a body in it at one time.
I slipped out to find Noah glaring at me. “Had to see for yourself?” he demanded. “You didn’t believe me?”
“Of course I believe you. I just wanted to see if there was some sort of clue.”
He pointed at the dirt-covered floor. “There’s your clue.”
I glanced down. There, near where my own foot hovered, was a clear shoe print. It was a woman’s shoe with a round heel and a wide, rounded front. On its own it wouldn’t be much of a clue, but the stylized F imprinted in the dirt was.
I went cold. I felt as though someone had reached inside me and ripped out something vital. I knew that F.
Lark.
LARK
How was I going to explain to Wren about her remains being missing? The question haunted me (pardon the pun) when I got home. I’d dug her up and brought the dirty tiny casket home to hide in Nan’s garage, but I’d told Kevin I was going to bury her somewhere—and, no offense, but I wasn’t going to tell him where, just in case Noah took him over again.
He’d dropped me off with the promise that he’d wear his iron rings all the time. And I’d drawn pujok symbols that Ben’s granny had taught me on his inner arm in Sharpie to help. He promised me he’d look into better ways to protect himself, but I was worried about him. Noah used to be a medium as well, and now he was a powerful ghost. Kevin was going to have to be very strong to resist him.
“Eat peaches,” I told him.
He looked at me like I was nuts. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Then he backed his car out of the drive and onto the street.
I had an awful feeling as I went into the house that I might not see him again.
Lying in my bed, I almost texted Ben, but he’d had me whining on his shoulder enough recently. And Ben would say all the right things, the things I needed to hear, whether I liked them or not.
I typed out a message and hit the Send key. A couple of minutes later my phone vibrated in my hand. On the screen was just one word: Yes.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I made the call.
“So, is this when I get to apologize for being such a tool for climbing in your bedroom window?” Mace asked when he answered. His voice was low. I wondered if his family was in bed.
“No,” I replied with a slight smile. “This is when you tell me that ghosts are already dead, so it’s not murder if I put one down.”
“Why would I tell you what you already know?” And then, “Wait. Is this about the guy your sister’s seeing? The ass-hat?”
“He knows I’m onto him. He’s been possessing Kevin, and he moved his remains from the family crypt. I can’t burn him if I can’t find him.”
“He possessed Kevin?”
“Yeah.” I knew where he was going with this. “No, I don’t think it was Noah who swapped spit with Sarah.”
“You have such a kind and caring way with words, bitch.” There was a trace of a smile in his voice, so I didn’t take offense, and I didn’t apologize.
I sighed. “Look, it’s none of my business, but I don’t think Kevin meant to hurt you. I heard him tell Sarah it was over. He felt terrible betraying you. He was just messed up, you know?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Neither do I. Stop stealing my thunder.”
He actually laughed. “Look, you do whatever you need to do to this ghost, okay? I’m with you all the way. We all are.”
Huh. Maybe Mace knew what I needed to hear, as well. “Hey, Joe Hard told me Olgilvie killed a girl. Her name was Laura.”
“What?”
“You remember when you and I got arrested at Haven Crest?” As if he could have forgotten. Mace’s father was the police chief, and I’m pretty sure he’d gotten in a lot of trouble that night. “When Joe showed up at the police station, he mentioned Laura.”
“I believe you. I didn’t know Laura, but my mom did.”
Right. He told me that his mother knew Joe—that she used to have a crush on him. They probably grew up together. Joe also had a bit of a thing for my grandmother when he was younger, which I refused to think about.
“Were they friends?” I asked.
“Yeah. Olgilvie had a thing for her. She disappeared, though, years ago. Everyone thought she ran off to meet up with Joe on tour, but she never made it. No one heard from her again. You’re saying Olgilvie killed her?”