“I mean, I guess,” Marty said with a shrug. “Anyway, shortly after Danny passed, mysterious holes started cropping up outside, in the back yard.”
“Holes?” I repeated, frowning.
“At first, Layla figured it was moles. But, then the holes started appearing inside. Floorboards torn up, holes punched into the drywall, ceiling panels missing, that sort of thing. After the antique copper ceiling in the kitchen was vandalized, things really started going off the rails.”
“How so?”
“Winds started sweeping through the house at random intervals, even when all the windows and doors were locked. Furniture was smashed and a voice kept screaming in the dead of night. Henner and I went over to try to persuade the ghost to move on, but the ghost box only picked up a few intelligible words.”
“And you tried the banishment potions according to my exact instructions?”
He nodded. “Followed them according to your directions, even double checking as we went to make sure we didn’t screw anything up. I think all the potions did was further piss off the ghost.”
My muscles were clenched tightly and goosebumps strained so hard against my skin, it hurt. “It sounds like a poltergeist,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ve dealt with one before.”
“The ghost that scared Finn, right?”
I nodded mutely. It felt like Frank’s frozen fingers were wrapped around my neck once more, choking off my air, his amorphous face still managing to sneer at my attempts to banish him from the house. But banish him I had and if I’d done it before, I could do it again.
A memory of Barbra’s sad face dropped into my head and I thought about her two daughters, who were Finn’s age. They probably went to school with him. Whatever this bastard was, it needed to go. And I needed to help because Marty and his team wouldn’t be able to do it alone. They’d already failed.
But what about your promise to Finn? I thought to myself and my stomach dropped. I’d told him I wouldn’t ever get involved with another ghost, if I could help it.
But I had to get involved. I couldn’t let Marty take another chance with something so strong that banishment potions failed against it. And there were two little girls to take into account, as well.
Finn would understand. He’d have to.
Marty examined my expression, a flicker of worry crossing his face as he processed whatever he saw there. “Look, Poppy, you don’t have to do this. There will be other cases we could use your help with.”
I thought of those two little girls, and how they were, no doubt, terrified. And I thought of Barbra and her anxiety and the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping for who knew how long. And I thought of Layla, whose husband had been taken from her too early.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with my own vehemence. “No, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” Marty breathed out his relief.
Now that I’d made my decision, it was time to get the important facts about the case. “Has anyone been singled out or hurt by the spirit?”
Marty nodded grimly. “That’s why I decided to approach you about it. Things are getting decidedly more violent. Objects are being thrown on a semi-regular basis, but two days ago, one of Barbra’s kids got hurt.”
“How badly?”
“She’s okay,” Marty said quickly. “But for how long?”
I nodded. He was right. And, God, how awful for Barbra. No wonder she looked so haggard. I still had nightmares of what happened to Finn at the old house. To see one of her kids targeted by a vengeful spirit after everything she’d already endured had to have been the purest form of hell.
I could abide a ghost or two in the house. For the most part, ghosts were like the people they’d once been. Irritating, eccentric, and unhappy. As long as they didn’t hurt anyone, though, I could live and let... well, I could leave them be. But poltergeists were a different story. They couldn’t be tolerated.
I had to help Barbra. I had to help her kids. And I had to help Marty, who’d probably get himself killed, standing between them and a rampaging and powerful ghost.
“When can we take a look at the house?” I asked.
Marty beamed. “I’ll give Layla a call and ask when I can bring you over.”
***
It turned out that Layla wouldn’t be ready for Marty to bring me over for another week. She was out of town, on a field trip with her seventh-grade class. Of course, Marty had asked if Barbra could grant us access to the house, but Layla told him Barbra was in too brittle a state to even discuss the activity. As Layla told Marty, Barbra continuously denied there was a ghost, let alone a poltergeist. She was firmly in the camp of non-believers, even though she couldn’t explain what was going on or why.
So, we would just have to wait until Layla returned, and that was fine by me. With my store newly opened and Finn, I had my hands full.
“Hey, Mom,” Finn said as he walked into the kitchen where I was standing and staring out the window, wondering what I would face at Layla’s. “What’s for dinner?”
I turned to face him. “Take out.” I looked around myself at the kitchen and sighed. I really needed to get a move on with the remodel.
“Can we get Chinese this time?”
“Sure,” I answered, rubbing the back of my neck as another subject continued to assault me. “Hey, Finn, do you know two twins named Allison and Hannah—I think they probably go to your school.”
He nodded. “Hannah is in my class and Allison is in Mrs. Deveroux’s.”
“Oh, cool,” I said, trying to sound casual. I didn’t want Finn asking me too many questions. Not yet, anyway. Not until I could come up with a good response for why I was getting myself involved in another poltergeist case. “Are they friends of yours?”
“Well, not friends, but they’re both pretty nice. Pretty quiet,” he answered with a shrug. “Hannah came in the other day with a black eye and this big bandage across her cheek.”
I felt my heart drop down to my toes. “What happened?”
Finn shrugged again. “I dunno. When we asked her about it, she said she didn’t want to talk about it.”
I nodded, my mind made up now more than ever that I needed to get involved in this case. No poltergeist was going to harm a child, if I could help it.
And I could help it.
Chapter Fifteen
I glanced down at the stack of brochures Marty had whipped up and grinned. Over the last week, we’d agreed on a logo, a slogan (“Poppy’s Potions: cures for all ailments”) and he’d created a three-fold brochure, a sheet of instructions for each potion and business cards. We’d spent a good two nights folding the brochures, and now they were ready to go.
I closed my shop early because I’d decided to visit all the stores in town in order to ask them if I could leave a few brochures where their customers could see them. My first stop was Stanley Stomper’s Creamery.
Stanley was leaning half out of his window, as usual, offering a middle-aged woman a chocolate twist cone. I’d never seen him come out from behind the counter, and neither had Marty. Something that made you say: hmm…
Stanley’s one customer made herself scarce pretty quickly, leaving me alone with just the ambient sounds of the street filtering in through the door. After exchanging greetings, Stanley said he was only too happy to accept my brochures, and I dropped them off, heading for the next store on my route, Sweeter Haunts.