Stolen Dreams Page 7

  Both their expressions were a mask of disappointment, then at the exact moment they both lifted their gazes to mine and said in unison, “It has to be a cop.”

  I laughed, unable to stop it. When I received strange glances, I clarified my inappropriate laughter. “You both said it at the same time.”

  “Ha.” Zach exclaimed. “Glad to know being a ghost hasn’t changed you―still stealing my lines.”

  “You do that often?” I asked, more interested than I cared to admit.

  Personal matters should have no place in this conversation. As much as I told myself that, again it seemed when it came to Kipp, I spoke without thinking. Which was entirely new for me. I always thought everything out―had to since I was around ghosts all the time. I needed to be aware of what I said―careful. Now though, my mouth worked before my mind could even process.

  Just another thing which made this whole situation with Kipp unusual.

  Before I could think more on it, Zach nodded. “All the bloody time.”

  “Back on subject,” Kipp interrupted, clearly more focused than we were. “It’s the only assumption. There is just no way he would gain access to the safe house.”

  When Zach still laughed, I cleared my throat. “Oh, you need to stop that now. Kipp is back to detective mode.”

  Zach immediately clamped his mouth shut and gave his head a bewildered shake. “I’m taking it she did know of him―tales of lies,” he asked, staring up to the ceiling as if Kipp were up there.

  I giggled and pointed to the chair. “He’s not up there, he’s sitting on the chair―and yes she knew nothing about him that could identify him.”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “Oh for fucks sake.” He looked at the chair without bothering to repeat the question. “What are you thinking, bud?”

  “I think we should rule out your theory. Even though, I suspect we are on the right track here, we need to be sure―for all our sakes―that every other possibility is mulled over.”

  He couldn’t be suggesting…

  As I searched his eyes, the determined set of them, showed my thoughts were right on the money. Just to be sure, I voiced my hesitation. “Please tell me I’m not going where I think I am going?”

  Kipp grinned. “That’s right, sugar lips! We’re going back to the scene of the crime.”

  ***

  The middle class bungalow sat on a tree-lined street―completely dull, without any warmth and plainer than a home built by Mennonites. “This is a safe house?”

  “What did you expect?” Zach replied, glancing back at me after he opened the screen door. “Luxury?”

  Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought. At least something that was worth living in. This shithole wasn’t suitable for a dog, let alone people. I looked around at all the creepy-crawlies which made the front porch their home. “If I was put here, I wouldn’t be happy.”

  “They’re put here for protection,” Kipp said, drawing my gaze to his. He gave me a firm unwavering look. “Not for a vacation.”

  “They’re...” Zach started.

  I raised my hand to interrupt him, not wanting to hear a repeat since as of late I’d suffered a world of that. “Already heard it.”

  Zach grinned before he turned back to the door. He bent down, coming closer to the security panel which sat next to the door handle. After he entered in the four-digit code, the door beeped and opened. He stepped through, opened it wider for me, then flicked the lights on.

  “Okay, so you weren’t kidding about this house being secure,” I noted as I followed him in.

  “This house has more invisible security than you could even wrap your pretty head around.”

  I snorted, ignoring the pretty remark. “Yeah, I gather that.”

  The air felt charged with electricity, even a little hum sang through the stale space. Apparently, my assumption of a trespasser was wrong. No one could break into this place. I suspected if you dared to open the fridge, spotlights would shine down on you and the walls would do that morphing thing into a steel cage to enclose you.

  After my Mission Impossible fantasy, I spun around to meet Zach’s gaze. He stood with the door open, staring at me. After an awkward moment, I asked, “Are you okay?”

  He nodded toward the door. “Can I close it?”

  Um, where was he going with this exactly? “And you’re asking my permission...because?”

  He rolled his eyes, very irritated if the grimace on his face had anything to say about it. “Has Kipp come into the room?”

  Laughter nearly escaped my mouth. He was talking about something that was irrelevant. “You do realize he can walk right through the door. He doesn’t need you to open it for him.”

  Zach’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows drew together in unhappiness. “I’m not making Kipp walk through a door.”

  “Stop goading him, he’s not like you,” Kipp chastised.

  I laughed a little then said, “He’s in.”

  Zach grumbled something incoherent and closed the door with a loud slam.

  With that funny business over, I glanced around. Bought and decorated in the seventies― retro vomit coloured couches and fake wood coffee tables decorated the tasteless house. Dust lined everything and the smell of something dead lingered in the air. “Lordy, how long has it been since someone used this place?”

  “A while,” Zach replied.

  “Like in the last decade?” I swiped a path of dust off the coffee table with my finger. “Some romantic gesture, to bring Hannah here―how lame can you get?”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Kipp responded, tone repulsed.

  “I’d suspect it was the perfect place to take her,” Zach said, walking away from us to head for the bedroom. “No one would see him here.”

  “Well, we know she was truthful about loving him.”

  Kipp’s eyebrow arched. “What makes you say that?”

  I spied a disgustingly large spider who worked on his web in the corner of the ceiling. “Because no woman―no matter who she is―would come to a place like this unless she loved him.”

  “Maybe it was the only place he could take her. Obviously, he wanted to keep their relationship private,” Zach called out from the bedroom.

  “Still, private is one thing.” I grimaced as the stench of mould filled my nose. “Down right grungy is something else entirely.”

  Kipp inclined his head in agreement.

  “Got something here,” Zach yelled out.

  Quickly, Kipp and I rushed into the bedroom only to encounter a complete mess. Vodka, whisky, an obscene amount of empty alcohol bottles littered the floor around the bed.

  “Appears someone is feeling a bit of remorse,” Zach said.

  “Ya think?” I retorted sarcastically. “Jesus, he’s drowning himself in booze.”

  Part of me was actually glad to see this. At least, Hannah wasn’t delusional, there was love between them. It didn’t make the situation better but if the whole thing was a lie and the guy had just used her, it would have been worse. She’d had something good, experienced happiness before her death, even if it was for a little while. It gave a certain type of peace.

  Zach reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen and a paper bag. He lifted one of the bottles and placed it inside. “I’ll get this to the lab to see if they can lift any prints or obtain a DNA sample. If we hit a dead end here, this might be the break in the case we need.”

  I’d seen television and to me, this seemed like the break which just solved the case. “Um...sorry, I know I’m the non-detective here, but doesn’t DNA mean case closed?”

  Zach sealed up the bag then stuffed it and the pen back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t believe what you see on T.V.” He shook his head as if it annoyed him my thoughts went there. “It takes weeks―sometimes months to get a DNA sample confirmed. Then, who is to say we have the sample on file to match it to the suspect.”

  “We will if it is a cop,” Kipp cut in.

  “If we are assuming right, and this i
s a cop, the match will be found. It’s part of protocol to give a DNA and fingerprint sample when you join the force.” Zach continued not hearing Kipp’s response.

  “Oh, okay, well that’s great then.” The excitement in my voice was evident. “We can go then right? I’m all done here?”

  Both men shook their heads at me.

  My happiness plummeted. “But you said, you’ll have the cop’s DNA so what else do you need?”

  “As Zach said, it will take months...”

  Zach began, “You will...”

  I raised my hand and indicated to him that Kipp was already talking. His words drifted off to silence as Kipp continued.

  “...to see if a match is found. It’s best for us to continue on here and see where it leads us. Meaning...you’ll get more time with me, beautiful.”

  I blushed, and hated he could cause such a reaction in me. I tore my gaze from him, and looked at Zach. “Okay, well tell me what I can help with so we can get out of here? It stinks and I feel my allergies acting up from all this dust.” I even sniffed to prove my point.

  Kipp chuckled.

  I refused to acknowledge he recognized my dodge, kept my focus on Zach awaiting his response.

  Zach rubbed his own nose with the back of his hand. “Since the air is bothering you, why don’t you and Kipp go and search outside. See if anything stands out.”

  Great, more alone time with Kipp, just what I wanted. But the idea of being out of this retched place was too appealing to pass up. “Sounds good to me.” I spun on my heel, nearly walking straight through Kipp. He had come up right behind me and I hadn’t even noticed his presence, which surprised me. I always felt a ghost’s nearness. That meant, I was forgetting just what he was.

  Kipp grinned playfully. “Despite your attempts to deny it, it makes you all too happy to spend some private time together.”

  My cheeks burned deeper. Not wanting to know the answer to that question, I dragged my gaze from his and walked out of the bedroom. I couldn’t allow this to go any further than I already had. Being attracted to him was one thing, allowing him to flirt with me in order to incite me was something else entirely.

  He’s a ghost. He’s a ghost. He’s a ghost.

  Maybe if I kept saying it, I would remember it. Even as I repeated it again and again in my mind, I had the inevitable feeling, it was a battle I was going to lose.

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  Five windows, all sealed shut, and no hint of trespassing on either side of the house, nor the front as we searched the outside.

  I followed Kipp around to the back. It was getting late, a dark sky with bright stars sat above and my body felt the weight of it. I took a quick look at my watch and found it was ten o’clock. My body was heavy and exhausted in every place, including my eyes.

  As a cold shudder ran through me, I gasped and took a step back. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you stopped.”

  Kipp stood, his head bowed, silent.

  I walked around to face him. The despair that ran along his face was unmistakeable. I came closer toward him in concern. “Is everything okay?”

  “It was here.” He slowly looked up at me and pointed to the ground. “That night...this is where...”

  I followed to where his finger pointed and along the cement patio was a large stained area which could be only one thing. Blood. The one thing that couldn’t simply be washed away with soap and water. As the image flashed horrifically though my mind, understanding dawned. “Oh, this is where you....” My voice trailed off as a large lump formed in my throat.

  Kipp knelt down, placed his hand on the darkest area. “I feel...” He peered back up. “It feels strange to be back here.”

  Yeah, I bet. To come back to the place where you lost your life couldn’t feel good by any stretch of the imagination. “An unhappy memory happened here, of course it wouldn’t be pleasant.”

  He shook his head. “No it’s more than that. For the first time since I woke up, I feel as if I’m in the right place.”

  “The right place?” I repeated. Huh?

  His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. Then, in a blink of an eye, apparently the answer came to him and his eyes widened with clarity. “Home.”

  Now, he’d lost me. I was confused, the right place and home, made no sense at all. The meaning of home came with happy feelings. I thought it unlikely coming back to the place where he died would create such a feeling. “What do you mean home?”

  “It’s the same feeling you have when you walk through your parent’s front door. You know, the one that says you’re right where you belong.”

  It’d been some time since I had that feeling, but knew where he was going with this. Maybe more so than most because it was what I’d been longing for these past years. I took in a deep breath to hide all emotion and answered him, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

  “It’s just like that―that finally I’m home.” His expression turned pleading. “Why am I experiencing this?”

  The million-dollar question. I’d never heard of a ghost who shared a similar experience as this. In each and every case they’d felt nothing except the initial reaction to their death. Then, their focus was on what they needed to do to move on. “Maybe it’s because some of you remains here, at this place, because your life was taken here.”

  The only assumption I could come up with. This was the first time I’d returned to a place where the person’s life was lost. It could have been the same for all of them.

  He stood in one swift movement then stepped closer toward me. I gasped as the coldness of his presence washed across me. His movement was so fast, supernatural for sure, and I had yet to experience that. For the most part, ghosts appeared normal―his move simply wasn’t.

  “Holy crow! How did you just do that?” I exclaimed.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Do what?”

  “Move like...” I paused in an attempt to find the right word, “something out of a scary movie.”

  He gave me a reproved look. “I’m a ghost, Tess.”

  I nearly rolled my eyes as I snapped out my retort. “Ah, yes I know this.”

  “The rules you live by are no longer mine.”

  This was unsettling. Truth be told, the idea of ghosts didn’t scare me because they appeared somewhat normal. This whole spooky nonsense was freaking me out. “So, you can move quickly?”

  “As quick as I want.”

  “Well...what else can you do?”

  His gaze ran over my face as he studied me. “There’s more, but I don’t want to frighten you.”

  “I’m not frightened,” I defended.

  “No?” He raised his hand then trailed his icy fingers under my eyes. “In here, I see fear.”

  I moved away from his contact. “I’m not saying it’s not a little strange, but I can handle it. So spill it.”

  Kipp shook his head, apparently dismissing my wants completely. “There must be a reason I feel this here.”

  I wasn’t about to stop the opportunity by changing the subject. Living in denial sounded all too good to me. I may have wanted to appear tough, but we both knew I was scared silly. And as much as I was slightly interested to know what else he could do there was good reason he wasn’t telling me. This time, I left it alone and followed his lead.

  “Like I said before, it’s probably because this is where your life ended. With every ghost, they remember things more when they return to a certain place or see something which sparks a memory. Maybe returning here is something you needed to do ...” My words froze. A move that didn’t go unnoticed, the knowing look in his eyes told me he noticed my hesitation. The idea of him moving on now was unsettling in every sense.

  Flatly ignoring the reaction, I forced the words out of my mouth. “To move on.” I was pleased to note my voice came out strong and steady.

  He grinned at my obvious evade of the feelings which threatened to steal my breath. “But I remember everything from my life.”

  In r
esponse to his sexy grin, I took a step back in order to put a little distance between us. “Yes, you do.”

  “Then your theory isn’t much of a theory at all.” He took a step toward me again, bowing his head closer to mine. “There is more here.”

  As much as he talked about the situation here, I had the feeling this was about something that ran far deeper. The meaning behind ‘there is more here’ had nothing to do with the blood on the cement ground. No, this had everything to do about us.

  Ignoring that too, I pushed away from anything personal. “Yeah, well, you’re asking the wrong person. I only know what I’ve seen so far. Why you’ve had this reaction here is beyond me. All I know is this...” I pointed to the cement, “is where you died.”

  Kipp stepped back and his gaze followed my finger. “Yes, that it is.”

  Damn, all the heat surrounding me had forced me to become harsh. Again, my reaction to him was so unusual. I was never so blasé with a ghost, unaware of what they were going through. My words came out without a single thought in my mind. “Um, I mean...”

  His gaze met mine and he held his hand up for me to stop. “I don’t need you to beat around the bush, Tess. Neither you, nor I, have time for it.”

  This was true. It elevated some of my guilt for being a stone cold bitch. It still didn’t mean I understood any of this or could give him the answers he was looking for. One thing I did know was asking questions always worked. It helped the ghost remember things hidden to them. “Why do you think you are feeling like this?”

  He mulled over it, glanced around a couple times then turned back at me. “It’s as if there is an unknown strength here.” He arched his eyebrow. “Does that make any sense?”

  No. But I couldn’t very well say that to him, not right now. “Yes.”

  He drew in a deep breath as he apparently tried to sort it all out. I stayed silent while I watched him struggle, wishing I could ease the situation, help him to find the answers he was seeking.