Demon House: The Haunting of Demler Mansion
Date: 2022-01-03 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Paranormal; Mystery
Description: Penny Wright faces the ghost of a serial killer in this unputdownable paranormal thriller. She's the one he's been waiting for. Demler Mansion has seen its share of darkness. In 1995, notorious serial killer Edmund Demler set a fire there that would end his life. A quarter century later, urban explorers break into the old ruin. They find a once-grand house now falling into decay—blackened walls, broken furniture, echoes that sound like voices. Then something far more terrifying finds them. After this latest tragedy, medium Penny Wright arrives to investigate. She’s now part of a team of para-s
Publisher: Observatory Books
Rights: Copyright 2021 A.N. Willis. All rights reserved.

Demon House

The Haunting of Demler Mansion

A.N. Willis

Copyright © 2021 by A.N. Willis

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Prologue

I. Part One

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

II. Part Two

Chapter 19

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Crimson Falls - 1995

Chapter 26

Demler Mansion - 1995

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Demler Mansion - 1995

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Epilogue

Also by A.N. Willis

About the Author

Prologue

Crimson Falls, Colorado

Kacey Eckert threw the last of her gear into her backpack. Water bottles, snacks, extra batteries. Bandages and antibiotic cream in case anyone scraped an elbow against old splintered wood. That seemed sensible. A package of dust masks, which Hannah had recommended.

Her headlamp still had the tag on it. It made a ripping sound as she pulled it free.

Kacey breathed in and out, trying to slow her racing heartbeat.

Her sister tapped on her door lightly, then pushed it open and poked her head in. “Ready?” Hannah whispered.

Ross peered over Hannah’s shoulder, holding his phone aloft.

“Hey,” Kacey said, “no filming in my room. What did I say?”

Ross shrugged, acting like he’d forgotten. “Just a habit.”

That morning when he’d introduced himself, he’d added, I’m a film major. Like she was supposed to be impressed. The guy thought he was Scorsese or something just because his YouTube channel made a few bucks in ad revenue.

Kacey tugged on her coat, then slung the backpack onto her shoulders and joined the others outside.

“You sure you want to do this?” Hannah asked. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Kacey felt ready to throw up from the mixture of fear and anticipation in her stomach, even though her sister had been urbexing dozens of times before and knew the ropes. Hannah had explored an old tuberculosis sanatorium, abandoned schools and condemned factories. Many had been located in Denver, their hometown, but Hannah was getting more into rural locales. Less crowded, she’d explained to Kacey. More undiscovered.

Shady Valley Resort sat on a small, no-name lake, with the mountains a faraway outline on the horizon. The only real attraction out here, especially in mid-November after all the leaves had fallen, was Demler Mansion. Exactly what they’d come to see.

Their hiking boots crunched lightly in the gravel as they crossed the parking lot. They couldn’t risk turning on any flashlights yet; didn’t want to wake the lady who ran the resort. They weren’t supposed to be out exploring at night. She’d been adamant about that. A sign above the check-in desk listed the rules.

No unregistered guests.

No smoking within fifteen feet of cabins.

No admittance to Demler Mansion. Stay outside the fence.

No exploring grounds at night. No exceptions.

But Hannah said that urban exploring wasn’t the same as trespassing. You were supposed to take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints. It was all about the thrill. Hannah had definitely come away with some amazing photographs. Her eyes came alive when she told the stories.

Visiting those rotting, forgotten buildings, Kacey’s big sister had explained, it’s like seeing the world naked. Kind of ugly, but so honest that it’s beautiful.

The night smelled of pine and cold. They crossed the icy grass toward the lake, Hannah leading the way. Ross held his ever-present camera in front of him, panning to take in the surroundings. When they were far enough from the cabins, Hannah switched on her flashlight, and they followed the trail along the edge of the lake.

As they rounded a curve, Demler Mansion came into view. The house sat upon a hill, with white pillars framing its entrance and dramatic steps leading from the porch down toward the lake. Its pale stone glowed in the moonlight. Stone arches curved over each door and window. Kacey was surprised to find the place so intact, though it had been empty for a quarter century by now. Ever since the fire.

Hannah played her flashlight over the vertical wooden slats of the fence. “Let’s go.” She climbed up.

“Hannah, stay there,” Ross said. “Tell the viewers about the place we’re about to visit.”

She spun and sat on the top rail of the fence, crossing her legs. Hannah smiled coyly at the lens like she was sharing a secret.

“This house is where Edmund Demler died,” Hannah said. “The serial killer. He murdered three girls and then killed himself, all before he reached twenty years old. They say he burned alive. He chose that ending—like he knew that he deserved it.”

Kacey had watched a docu-drama on daytime cable once. Born Bad: The Edmund Demler Story. She’d only made it through half the show before turning it off. She couldn’t take seeing those girls’ smiling faces, all around nineteen, the same age as Kacey herself.

And Edmund’s piercing eyes, staring out from the screen.

“Some people claim Demler Mansion is haunted,” Hannah continued, “but that’s just because it’s a ruin. Every abandoned building I’ve explored has a story to tell, and that past is slowly crumbling away. It’s eerie and unsettling to contemplate our own demise. People blame ‘ghosts’ because that’s easier than explaining the true source of their unease—the fact that, someday, we’ll all be dead and forgotten.”

My sister’s kind of a badass, Kacey thought, before her anxiety kicked in again. But not because of Demler Mansion or its history. She was far more worried about embarrassing herself in front of Hannah. So long as she didn’t fall like a total klutz—and Ross didn’t get it on video.

For the last several years, Kacey had hardly seen her sister at all. Their parents forbade it after Hannah dropped out of high school and moved out. There’d been talk of drugs and boys and “loose morals,” like this was the 1950s. When Hannah left, Kacey had been thirteen, too young to fully understand what happened. All she’d known was that the brightest spot in her life had vanished overnight. Life without Hannah had felt listless, like all the color was drained away. Her parents hated Hannah’s absence too, especially Mom, but they’d been too proud and stubborn to forgive her. And like a coward, Kacey had followed their rules.

But as soon as Kacey started her freshman year at the University of Denver, just a few months ago, she’d tracked Hannah down at her waitressing job. They’d spent several weekends reconnecting, but for Kacey it wasn’t nearly enough. Kacey wanted to share something meaningful with her big sister—become a part of Hannah’s life.

This was her chance.

“Hey Kacey, come up here with me,” Hannah said, still perched on the fence rail. “Ross, take our picture?”

Kacey grumbled, but her sister shushed her. “Not for his feed, for us. Careful, there’s splinters.”

She held out a hand, but Kacey shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

Hannah wrapped her arm tightly around Kacey’s shoulder. She smelled like cinnamon gum and fruity hair gel, and both scents calmed the nervousness in Kacey’s stomach.

They waited for Ross to set up the shot. He had some kind of fancy night mode for his camera, apparently.

“Did he really have to come?” Kacey whispered. She’d been surprised to find Ross in the car when Hannah picked her up. Kacey had thought it was going to be a sisters-only adventure.

“Ross isn’t so bad. We have fun together.”

No details, please, Kacey thought. “I still wish it was just the two of us.”

“But what if some ghost demands a sacrifice?” Hannah teased quietly. “We’ll give him up first.”

Kacey smothered a laugh.

When Kacey was little, she’d used to sneak into Hannah’s bed at night when their parents fought. I’m scared, Kacey had whispered, and Hannah would scoop her up and under the covers. Hannah made up stories about unicorns and rebellious princesses, petting Kacey’s hair until she drifted to sleep. Kacey had thought that her big sister was the most fearless person in the world. Now that Kacey was older, she understood that Hannah wore a brave face to hide the uncertainty beneath. If couch surfing makes the Olympics, I’m a lock for the gold, Hannah joked. And Mom said I wouldn’t amount to anything. She’d sworn to Kacey that she was doing great. She loved waitressing. No worries at all.

Just once, Kacey wished she could be the strong one, so her big sister could rely on her.

“Got it,” Ross said.

Hannah stood atop the rail and leaped down, arms flying.

They rounded the side of the building, and Kacey switched on her headlamp. The house looked different from the back. Soot blackened the stone around several windows on the second floor. A ragged tarp covered part of the roof, edges flapping in the nighttime breeze.

A cold blast of air flew over the lake and pushed against their backs, speeding them along. At the back door, Hannah used a pair of bolt cutters to snap the padlock. The door creaked open.

They went inside. A different sort of chill met them, the air dry and stale. Hannah walked ahead, lit up by Kacey’s headlamp. Her shadow stretched out ahead of her. Dark spots stained the walls.

After wandering through several corridors and a kitchen, they came into a huge entrance hall filled with windows. Tattered velvet drapes hung on the walls. A chandelier made of deer antlers hung over their heads from a soaring ceiling. A grand staircase led up to the second floor.

This part of the house wasn’t as damaged as Kacey had expected. The fire hadn’t touched it. A few pieces of furniture remained, tipped over or broken; picture frames still held faded photos inside. Ross wandered around, taking stills and video of each relic.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Hannah said reverently. “Sad, but regal.”

Kacey tried to see what her sister was seeing. A sense of loneliness did permeate the house. It was like a film negative, with the light and the dark switched—instead of feeling lived-in, the emptiness was the dominant feature.

This building still contained hints of the family that once lived here, the life they’d shared. Now, the home was shattered, a literal representation of the terrible things that Edmund Demler had done.

Kacey’s feet shuffled against the marble floor, and the soft sounds became whispers in her imagination.

Wait, wait, the whispers said.

“They were all runaways,” Hannah murmured. “The girls he killed.”

Runaway girls. Like Hannah had been. Kacey felt a tug at her center, a mix of disgust and sadness.

Hannah spun in a slow circle, head craned back. “I can almost hear their voices. Like those girls are still here. Why is it his life people want to talk about, instead of theirs?”

She started up the staircase.

Kacey hesitated at the bottom, resting her hand on the elaborately carved railing. It was cold and smooth beneath her fingers. “Maybe we should leave now. We’ve seen enough, right?”

Ross passed her on his way up, watching everything through his screen. “We’ve barely gotten started.”

Kacey hurried after them. The light from her headlamp bounced across the walls and flashed in a tarnished mirror. When she reached the second-floor landing, Hannah and Ross were halfway down the corridor.

Ross walked into one of the rooms, filming himself as he spoke to the camera.

“Do you hear that?” Hannah murmured. “Like…voices?”

Wait for me, the whispers said.

Fear gripped Kacey’s throat, making it impossible to speak. What if there were squatters living here?

Or a killer. Like him. Edmund Demler.

Demler is dead, she reminded herself. Ghosts are just make-believe, like the stories Hannah used to tell. Her limbs felt heavy and stiff, but she kept moving.

The walls in the corridor were warped, darkened by soot. The fire. The floor creaked, and the boards made a brittle snapping sound.

Hannah walked into another room. Kacey heard Ross still talking to his camera next door. She hurried after her sister.

Charred pieces of furniture filled one corner of the room. A breeze wafted through the empty window frames, carrying the smell of smoke, though Kacey couldn’t say if she was just imagining it. The scent was so fresh, like this room had burned only days ago instead of decades.

“We should go.” The words came out like a croak.

Hannah didn’t seem to hear. She stood in silhouette, facing the rotting wall. Its plaster surface had sloughed away, revealing wood and brick beneath. Beyond Hannah, the dim outlines of mountains stretched across the horizon. The moon gleamed, dotted with wisps of cloud.

Kacey’s headlamp blinked and went out. Cursing, she pulled it from her head and knocked it against the heel of her hand. She tried switching it on and off, but the light wouldn’t come back on. The room was still bright with moonlight, but everything had softened. Hannah’s flashlight hung loose at her side, forming a meager pool of yellow on the ground.

Kacey shivered inside her coat. She stepped closer to her sister, halting in place when the floor creaked ominously. She stretched one foot forward, testing. The floorboards sagged toward the center of the room. Somehow, Hannah had avoided the weak spot. She was used to exploring ruins like this. But Kacey didn’t feel safe.

“Hannah, we should go back. The floor—”

“He brought her here. But this isn’t where she died.”

Goosebumps pricked Kacey’s skin. “What? Who?”

“Tina.”

The breeze turned into a gust, stirring up blackened dust around the room. The whispering sounds crescendoed. Wait. Please, wait.

Hannah turned her head. Kacey followed her sister’s gaze.

In the shadowy reaches of the space, something glowed. At first, it was a streak of silver. Kacey thought maybe it was a reflection from a mirror, or broken pieces of glass. But then the thing started growing. It was like the light of a train approaching in a tunnel. Getting brighter and brighter. She blinked, and spots danced before her eyes.

From the corridor, she heard Ross calling out for them. “Hey, where’d you go? Come on, you’ve got to see this.” Kacey opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

Ross’s words repeated, yet this time they sounded tinny and distant. They’d come from the wrong direction, an echo—from that glowing smudge of silver across the room.

“Come on. You’ve got to see—”

That thing. That thing was speaking, using Ross’s words.

This isn’t happening, Kacey thought. This isn’t happening.

Hannah crossed the room. She was going toward it. The silver thing moved to meet her. Reaching out.

Finally, Kacey’s voice worked, though it was no more than a croak. “Don’t,” she said, instinctively backing up toward the doorway.

Saving myself, she would think later, ashamed. Like a freaking coward.

Hannah’s boot fell through the floor. She went to her knee, though she didn’t even cry out. For a split second, Kacey thought it was over. Just a close call.

But then a hole opened beneath her sister, and Hannah was gone.

Part One

The Body

Chapter One

Penny Wright put a hand against the cold glass of the car window. Morning had passed, but the town of Crimson Falls still looked half asleep. A few pedestrians ambled slowly down Main Street. Even the snow was sluggish, drifting in clumps that turned to damp splatters on the sidewalk.

“Looks like we’re right on time.” Anderson Green parked in front of a restaurant. A huge wooden sign in old-fashioned lettering proclaimed it “The Stagecoach Diner.” Evergreen garlands draped over the tops of the windows.

“First stop is a meeting with the sheriff,” Anderson said. “Our point of contact.”

“The sheriff?” She hadn’t expected this to be so official. “Aren’t police skeptical of…people like us?”

“Some are. Some aren’t.” He glanced at her, lips curving wryly. “But desperation tends to make one more open minded.”

Penny got out and joined Anderson on the curb. He was dressed in tailored chinos, a black Oxford shirt, and a slim-cut blazer. His curly hair and goatee were neatly trimmed, speckled with gray. Penny looked more like the locals, with her jeans and favorite plaid shirt. The sun was shining despite the snow, so she left her coat unzipped.

A sleigh bell jingled when they opened the door. Inside the diner, patrons sat sipping hot drinks and reading newspapers. Wagon wheels, rusty tools, and coils of rope decorated the walls, all accented with Christmas ribbons in red and silver. A coffee grinder whirred, and a milk steamer emitted a high-pitched hum.

Anderson headed straight for the tables. A young man in a tan uniform stood when he saw them, removing his cowboy hat.

“Mr. Green?”

Anderson nodded, extending his hand. “Sheriff Lofton, I presume.” The men shook, and the sheriff turned to Penny.

“Are you one of them? The—” He paused briefly, glancing toward the counter. A woman in an apron was watching them, frowning.

“Investigators?” Sheriff Lofton finished.

Penny had never imagined herself as an investigator, even the paranormal kind. Yet here she was.

“I’m new,” she said, “but yes. I’m part of Anderson’s team. Penny Wright.”

“Lovely to meet you, Penny. Trey Lofton.” The sheriff leaned closer. “Tell you the truth, I’m new as well. Took over from my dad not long ago. The older guys didn’t want me to talk to ya’ll at all.” He didn’t look much older than Penny herself. She’d have thought mid-twenties was too young to be sheriff of a whole county, even a small one.

“Would you rather we speak somewhere more private?” Anderson asked in his smooth, deep voice.

“Oh, everybody’s heard the rumors. If we meet here in the open, they won’t bug me demanding to know what I’m hiding. Besides, the coffee at my office is like battery acid. Hey, Aunt Diane?” Lofton called out to the woman behind the counter. “A large French press, three cups, and a couple of your delicious snickerdoodles?”

The woman gave a curt nod. “Anyone need decaf?”

They shook their heads.

Trey gestured for them to sit. “Your rooms are all ready at Shady Valley Resort. You’ll be the only guests, as requested.”

“I appreciate that.”

“What else will you need to get started? I’m afraid I’m out of my element here.”

Penny felt eyes on her. The other diners turned their heads when she caught them looking.

“We’ll need to interview the witnesses,” Anderson said. “If you could help with setting that up—”

Lofton’s brow tightened. “I’m afraid those kids went home to Denver weeks ago. Poor girl got airlifted from the county hospital to one closer to home. You have their contact info and their statements in the file I sent.”

“I don’t just mean witnesses to the events last month,” Anderson said. “I’m planning to contact Kacey Eckert and Ross Trujio on my own. But I’m requesting interviews with anyone who might have information relevant to the haunting. Including the Demler family.”

The woman from behind the counter brought over the coffee and cookies, her frown never leaving as she eyed them and then returned to the kitchen.

The sheriff poured coffee into his cup, then lowered his voice. “Look, Mr. Green, I’m in a difficult position here. I’m grateful to you for contacting me, and I’ve been happy to admit from minute one that I needed your help. If the media gets wind of that…video”—he whispered the word—“then more curiosity-seekers might show up, and more people will get injured.”

So the sheriff hadn’t requested this intervention. Anderson, or somebody else in the Mercury Group, had known about the incident. Penny made a mental note to ask about this later, though she had doubts about whether she’d get a straight answer. Anderson enjoyed asking questions more than he liked answering them. And what was this video Lofton had mentioned?

“If it were up to me, Demler Mansion would’ve been razed to the ground years ago.” Lofton paused, scratching at his forehead. The cowboy hat had left a faint indentation in the skin. “But the people of this town are innocent. They don’t deserve the stain that’s been put upon them because of…what happened before. Many of the Demlers have already changed their last names to avoid the association with Edmund. If the family chooses to talk to you, fine. But don’t ask me to tear open old wounds from over twenty years ago.”

“I’m sure we can be sensitive to your concerns,” Penny said. “Everybody has things they’d rather keep private.” Sometimes that was especially true when the gossip had already started. She had personal experience in that department.

Anderson sat back in his seat, his jaw tightening. Maybe she’d spoken out of turn. But in the car, Anderson had told her not to hesitate to speak up. I want to hear your perspective, he’d said.

Trey Lofton smiled. “Exactly my point. Thank you, Penny.” He handed her one of the cookies. “You let me know if I can help in some other way.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Anderson said, standing up.

* * *

Outside The Stagecoach Diner, Penny held up the snickerdoodle. “Want half?”

Anderson broke off a piece with the tips of his fingers. Sugar, butter and cinnamon melted on Penny’s tongue. Her parents were busy decorating right now for Christmas, putting on the finishing touches. Penny had gone with Matthew, her boyfriend, to pick out a tree for his house before she left.

She’d given Matthew the information that Anderson had provided—the address for the cabins outside Crimson Falls, the rough details of the case. A young woman had been in a terrible accident at Demler Mansion, and the local authorities believed the supernatural might be involved. Aside from that vague outline, Penny hardly knew what she was walking into.

But Penny’s life had taken some very unexpected turns in the last several months. She’d made sacrifices that she never could’ve imagined to be standing here right now: her job in Los Angeles, her best friend. She didn’t even know where “home” was anymore, technically.

And I’m the one who made this mess, she thought. Nobody to blame but me.

Though maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. As far as she could tell, she was born like this. She’d seen ghosts her whole life. But in the last few months, the ghostly sightings had become impossible to ignore. Frightening, in a way they hadn’t been before.

Anderson Green had turned up at just the right moment, offering help that she couldn’t refuse.

Just that morning, before Anderson arrived to pick her up, Matthew had asked her again not to go. It makes sense that you want to get training for your ability, but you don’t really know this Anderson Green guy, Matthew had said. And are you sure the ghost of a serial killer is the best place to start?

Perhaps he had a point, there. But she had nowhere else to turn.

For the next week or so, Penny would investigate—and hopefully resolve—the haunting at Demler Mansion with Anderson’s team. In exchange, he had promised to train her to control her ability. The arrangement would benefit them both, and it would last only so long as necessary. Then she’d have to pick up the pieces of her career—if she even still had one. At least she knew that Matthew would be waiting for her, even if he didn’t quite approve.

“You were awfully quick to tell the sheriff what he wanted to hear,” Anderson said, forcing her mind back to the present.

“You make it sound cynical. I just understand how he feels, that’s all. There’s history here that he doesn’t want to dig up.”

“It’s fine to understand. But you can’t let yourself be influenced.”

Her mouth felt dry. The cookie had left a sandy residue. “I apologize if I spoke when I shouldn’t.” She tried to measure her tone, though it still betrayed her annoyance. She hadn’t thought of Anderson as her “boss,” but he was acting like one.

“Oh, don’t be sorry. I expected that you’d have a rapport with Sheriff Lofton. I was counting on it.”

Penny brushed crumbs from her hands. “And you’ve got me all figured out?” She didn’t like the fact that he presumed to know so much about her. He’d probably claim it was his job to know. Which, to be fair, was probably true.

“I didn’t say that.” Anderson stepped off the curb toward his SUV. “As for Lofton, he’s still something of a mystery to me. He was eager enough to accept the Mercury Group’s help. He can’t explain what happened at Demler Mansion last month, and he wants to prevent anyone else getting hurt. But he’s hiding something.”

“You could tell that from talking to the guy for five minutes?”

“It was just an impression. Perhaps I’m wrong. But it’s worth looking further into Lofton’s background.”

They got into the car. Penny searched for the words to defend the sheriff, though she didn’t know the guy either. Maybe it was because Trey Lofton reminded her of people she knew back in Ashton, her hometown—another small Colorado enclave, though a more prosperous one than Crimson Falls. For over two decades, this town had been defined by the crimes of Edmund Demler. No wonder Lofton was sensitive about it.

Penny sat back in the leather seat, gazing through the windshield at The Stagecoach Diner. Sheriff Lofton was speaking with Diane, the woman who’d served them coffee. Neither looked pleased by the discussion.

“There’s no reason to believe Lofton’s secret—if it exists—has anything to do with the incident at Demler Mansion,” she argued.

Anderson looked at her calmly, his hand resting on the gear shift. “Penny, have you ever cleared a haunting without following the truth, wherever it might lead?”

She considered his question. Penny had never thought of herself as an expert on the paranormal. But she’d faced dangerous ghosts before, and she’d helped several souls move on. She understood the stakes involved—for both the dead and the living.

“No,” she replied. “I’ve never seen a ghost let go of this life without facing the past.” No matter how disturbing or painful.

“As a medium, it’s your job to guide the dead through that process. We are not ‘ghost hunters,’ even if the media enjoy that moniker. When we treat the dead as prey or as enemies, we do so at our extreme peril. We must understand the ghost’s reasons for staying in the physical world. Even if the entity is someone as unsympathetic as Edmund Demler.”

“I understand. Believe me.”

“That’s why I wanted to work with you.” Anderson put the car into drive and turned down Main Street. “Are you having second thoughts about our arrangement?”

Penny’s teeth ground together. Part of her wished she could just forget about Anderson Green and the Mercury Group. But ghosts would still haunt her, making a normal life impossible. Until she learned how to control it, she couldn’t escape her ability any more than she could escape herself.

“I’ll do what we agreed.”

“Glad to hear it. But it’s crucial that you remember this, Penny: you cannot help the dead while being an advocate for the living.” He spoke with an air of finality, as if no argument were possible.

“I think we should be able to do both.”

He arched an eyebrow, glancing sideways at her. “You can think whatever you like. But when the time comes that I give you a direct order, I’ll expect you to follow it.”

Chapter Two

Zandra Mendes heard loud footsteps approaching her cabin. Her new partner was on his way over, and she didn’t need to be psychic to realize he wasn’t happy.

Briefly, she thought about pulling her door closed. She’d left it cracked open when she carried her suitcase inside. Could I pretend to be in the bathroom? she thought, hating that she’d even consider something so passive-aggressive.

But it was too late, anyway. Her door widened, and Ben Kwan appeared. Snowflakes blew in past him.

“What does Anderson think he’s doing?”

Zandra removed a folded shirt from her suitcase and carefully set it inside a drawer. “So you finally got his text.”

“I just got on to the wi-fi. It’s so like him to spring this on us at the last moment. Un-freaking-believable.”

She had known since last night that Anderson was on his way with a fresh recruit in tow. He’d told her to pack a couple of extra tech vests and book two additional rooms at the Shady Valley Resort. The place looked more like a summer camp than a hotel. A tidy row of miniature log cabins with a lodge at the far end. Zandra couldn’t help thinking of tie-dye and rainbow-colored friendship bracelets.

“You know how Anderson works,” she said. “We’re supposed to be nimble. He doesn’t like us overthinking or overanalyzing. Which is what you’re doing now.”

Ben leaned his solid form against the dresser. He was already geared up—black cargo pants, black wool sweater, tech vest zipped and ready to go. The small eye of his body cam winked at her from the center of his chest. Usually, Zandra kept her focus on mind rather than body. It was the nature of her talent. But Ben’s physical presence was so…present. He took up half of the small room. It was distracting.

“We could’ve handled this on our own,” he said. “Instead, we’ll have him looking over our shoulders, criticizing every little thing.”

Most Mercury Group cases were handled by a single, two-agent team. But perhaps this wasn’t the typical haunting. She didn’t have much information yet. In fact, she’d been wondering why Anderson had kept the police files to himself so far.

Zandra had known Anderson for almost twenty years, and she trusted him more than anyone else in her life. He’d started out as a paranormal researcher and academic. At times, his instincts were so accurate they bordered on the uncanny, though he only had a touch of para-sensitivity himself. But he also had over a decade’s experience managing Mercury Group agents. He believed in their mission above all else—helping lost, suffering souls move on from the physical world, and protecting the living from wayward ghosts.

He also cared little for making his teams comfortable, which didn’t bother Zandra. Their work was important, but only a fool would expect it to be easy.

Ben narrowed his eyes at her, then cursed. “Are you reading me right now? Seriously?”

“Calm down. I wasn’t even thinking about you, honestly.”

She hadn’t asked to get saddled with Ben as a teammate. Zandra’s longtime partner had recently retired, and she’d spent the last two months without a new one. Instead, Anderson had been giving her special assignments and research projects. Maybe, if she’d had any family or friends outside Mercury to speak of, she’d have taken time off. But she and Anderson had a similar type of personal life—pretty much none at all.

Ben, by contrast, had a huge family and more personal life than was good for him. That was how he’d gotten himself into trouble. From the little she’d heard, anyway. Which may or may not be true. If Ben would only enlighten her.

She shrugged one shoulder. “You know, you could just tell me why you got reassigned. Because the rumors? They don’t sound like you.”

“Hard pass.” Ben crossed his arms, biceps bulging.

Okay, then. “Look,” she said, “if Anderson thinks we need the extra personnel, then he’s got his reasons, and he’s not going to explain them. Even to me.”

“His reasons are obvious.”

Now, she was reading him. She couldn’t help it—Ben’s emotions had risen to the surface. But he wasn’t angry so much as hurt. Why? She couldn’t say without delving deeper into his aura, which wouldn’t be polite. Not on their very first day.

Ben rubbed a hand over his chin. “I admitted that I screwed up. Hasn’t Anderson punished me enough?”

“Are you saying that partnering with me is a punishment?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Z.”

At that, she had to laugh. Zandra felt like she was the one Anderson had unfairly singled out. He expected her to deal with trainees and overly muscled problem cases without complaint. Because, of course, she would.

“Who is this new recruit, anyway?” he asked. “Do you know?”

“Anderson gave me her name. Penny Wright.”

“And?”

“There’s some info about her online. A small following, some media attention, which isn’t ideal. She’s from Ashton—closest terminal to here.” A place where the worlds of the living and dead converged. Which could either heighten Ms. Wright’s abilities, or make her dangerously unpredictable. At this point, it was impossible to know.

“You think she’s worth the effort?”

“Anderson thinks she is.” Zandra resumed unpacking, organizing her belongings in their proper places around the room. They’d allowed a week or so for this assignment, but it was always hard to predict how long a haunting would take to clear. There were so many variables—whether living witnesses were helpful or obfuscating, how active the ghosts might be, whether the mediums could form a quick emotional connection with the dead.

Zandra prided herself on her record: 90% of assignments cleared without injuries, on schedule. Even that ten percent problem rate—not necessarily failures, but problems—was higher than she’d have liked.

Ben’s track record? Only sixty-eight percent clean. Long sessions at the gym didn’t tend to impress ghosts.

Or me, she noted. Obviously.

He quieted down for several minutes, scrolling through websites on his phone. Zandra glanced at his screen and saw the same articles about Penny Wright that she’d perused earlier. Penny didn’t seem to be an attention seeker, nor did she present herself as a paranormal expert. She’d refused nearly all interviews or requests for comment. Zandra wondered how Anderson had gotten her to join up.

“I’m not convinced,” Ben said. “Even if she’s powerful, she’s untrained. Babysitting her will make this case ten times harder.”

On that much, Zandra and her new partner agreed. “Then I suggest you start working instead of whining.”

She smiled at his answering scowl. Ben stormed out of her cabin, the decks shuddering in his wake.

* * *

About half an hour later, Anderson’s Jeep SUV pulled into the parking lot. Zandra stood on the walkway that connected the row of cabins. She heard Ben’s door open, but she didn’t look over at him.

Anderson got out of the car, brushing at his clothes to loosen any wrinkles, though Zandra couldn’t spot any. He nodded at her, then at Ben, his typical lukewarm greeting. But Zandra knew his expressions. His eyebrows raised just slightly, lip twitching with humor. She wasn’t close enough to read him, but she’d known Anderson long enough to interpret.

Fireworks yet? his expression asked.

Did you expect anything less? Zandra’s smirk responded. Then she focused on the young woman who’d just stepped out of the passenger side.

She was petite, with strawberry-blond hair falling past her shoulders and freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. Kohl lined her wide-set eyes. Her face was open, her eyes friendly.

“Hi. I’m Penny.”

So she hadn’t waited for Anderson to introduce her. Zandra liked that. The warmth of her aura swept over Zandra in a rush of turbulent energy. Raw power, but uncontrolled.

And she’s nervous, Zandra thought. She’s left everyone she loves and fears she won’t be able to find her way back. Maybe she’s right. I never did.

“I’m Zandra. Or just Z.” She tilted her head in her partner’s direction. “The lurker over there is Ben.”

He mumbled a greeting. Penny waved.

I’ll need to stay close to her to keep her steady, Zandra thought. She sought out Anderson’s aura and sensed eager confidence. He wanted to see what Penny could do.

“We can break more ice later,” Anderson said. “We’ll all meet at the hotel office in five. Daylight’s wasting.”

Chapter Three

Penny followed the others into the lodge. They walked past the front desk, which sat deserted, into a large room with a rectangular table in the center. Open rafters crossed the vaulted ceiling, and the walls and furniture were constructed of knotty oak.

Anderson bent over a laptop. On the table lay a stack of file folders. “Good, you’ve got your gear.” He stood upright, gesturing for them to gather closer.

“I realize I’ve kept a lid on the details of this case so far. But since we have a new addition”—here he pointed at Penny—“I wanted to keep you all on the same page. I’m sure you’ve all heard of Edmund Demler?”

They nodded.

Anderson rested his hand atop a file, tenting his fingers. “Demler Mansion was Edmund’s home since childhood, as well as the location of his death. For years, stories have circulated that the building is haunted, but we had no corroboration until recently. About a month ago, sisters Hannah and Kacey Eckert were exploring Demler Mansion when Hannah fell through a weak part of the second floor. She’s in a coma, critical but stable condition, so she hasn’t explained what she experienced. But Kacey, her younger sister, reported having seen an amorphous silver shape in the room just before Hannah fell.”

He picked up his computer and flipped it around so that the screen faced the rest of them. “And their companion, Ross Trujio, apparently captured the phenomenon on video.”

Ben and Zandra stood to either side of Penny, all of them intent on the screen.

Anderson hit play.

The video was shaky, the only sound heavy breathing. Penny could make out a dim hallway with doors on either side. Some hung off of their hinges.

“We’re in the eastern wing of the house,” a young male voice said. Ross Trujio, Penny assumed. “Somewhere around here is the bedroom where Edmund Demler grew up.”

The camera pointed upward, showing patches of mildew on the ceiling. Then back down to the hall. The shot moved through a doorway and entered a room, the man’s flashlight illuminating the space one piece at a time. Bricks and narrow slats of wood in the walls. A few rotting items of clothing, draped over the back of a wooden chair. A cracked mirror, hanging above a chest of drawers.

The camera shifted to Ross’s face. He was around twenty, with a faint growth of whiskers on his chin. He spoke in a hushed, excited tone.

“They say Demler’s grandparents kept him locked away most of his life. His room was somewhere on this floor, with a window that faced the lake.”

Penny leaned forward as she watched, placing her hand on the back of a folding chair.

“Could that be why he drowned them?” Ross asked. “Seeing them happy, when he was stuck in here?”

The camera swung around to the window, its glass a web of fractures. Then back to Ross.

“The air has a chill to it—even colder than outside, I think. It smells damp and musty. There’s a bad feeling here, for sure.” Ross exhaled, shaking himself. “I’m getting chills here, you guys. Major vibes.”

Zandra’s hand moved toward the screen. “What’s behind him?” she murmured.

“I see it too,” Penny said.

There was a streak of silver. But it wasn’t from the window glass or any mirror.

“This house has been empty for almost twenty years. It’s seen some really dark stuff, and some people say it should’ve been torn down, but you know? I don’t agree. We can’t just get a sanitized version of our history, from like, textbooks and museums. That’s why I’ve gone to lots of places and—”

Ross cringed. “Crap, that sounded lame. Okay, edit that last bit out.” He tilted his head, examining his own face on the screen. “I should get the girls over here. Reaction shots.”

The camera’s motions were jerky as Ross walked toward the door. He stepped out and said, “Hannah? You’ll want to see this.” Then he turned back toward the bedroom.

The silver shape suddenly loomed into view.

Ross yelped as he fumbled the camera. At the same moment, there was a deafening crash. “What the—oh holy—”

His voice cut off, and the screen went black.

Penny inhaled, her heart thumping.

For several seconds, none of them spoke. The air in the lodge had turned stuffy. Like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Anderson returned to the laptop and minimized the window. “As we begin, I’d like to hear your initial impressions. What might we be facing when we enter the house?”

Penny looked at her teammates to see if they’d speak first.

“Do we have any video of Hannah’s fall?” Zandra asked.

“Afraid not. Just a statement from Kacey, her younger sister. I’ve got some background documents here, though the complete files are with the sheriff. He didn’t want to share them over the internet.”

Anderson picked up one of the folders. Zandra accepted it and flipped it open.

“In her statement, Kacey described seeing the same kind of visual phenomena in the adjoining room,” Anderson continued. “Hannah was listening to it. Responding to it.”

He and Zandra exchanged a glance.

“I’ve seen that happen before,” Penny said. “A ghost’s memories can overwhelm a living person. Make them do irrational things. But…”

“Go ahead,” Anderson encouraged. “Follow that train of thought.”

Penny tucked her hair behind her ear. “In my experience, ghosts don’t usually speak to living people directly. Even mediums.”

Most of the time, the dead weren’t aware of the living at all. Or even aware of the fact of their own death. Instead, ghosts tended to relive the moments of their greatest regret or fear from life. Over and over, endlessly. It was a terrible fate, being trapped in such a way.

“Unless the ghost is fully conscious,” Penny added. “Aware of his or her own death. Those are the really dangerous ones.”

“That’s true.” Ben strolled across the room, stretching his arms. “But poltergeists can be just as deadly. And they don’t have to possess any consciousness at all. They’re like a natural disaster, able to strike at any second when an energy source comes near.”

“But there was no sign of any IO—inanimate object—movement on the video.” Zandra pointed at the open file in her hand. “Nor does Kacey mention anything that specifically indicates polt activity in her statement. She saw a silver shape in the air. Her sister was acting strangely, then she fell. So we can’t be sure yet what type of ghost she encountered.”

Penny looked over Zandra’s shoulder at the witness statement. She was thinking of her own brushes with ghosts in the past. Ghosts, aware or not, could take on energy from the living. Especially mediums.

“Was Hannah a medium?” Penny asked. “Or Kacey or Ross? Could this ghost have been absorbing their energy?”

“Not that I’ve seen from the statements,” Anderson said. “It’s worth asking when we speak to the witnesses.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “But Hannah and Kacey and Ross aren’t here now. We can assume the entities will draw energy from us when we enter the house. So I’d rather not spend all day asking questions that might have no relevance to the current situation.” He glanced at Penny. “No offense.”

Her skin heated. “None taken,” Penny said. But Zandra’s eyebrow arched, like she knew this statement wasn’t quite true.

“At this point, all questions are relevant,” Anderson said. “It seems to me that more than one person on this team could benefit from a reminder of the basics.” His tone remained light. Yet the tension in the room was palpable. Ben stared out the window. Zandra’s back was straight and stiff.

Penny had been dressed down by a boss before, and it could be humiliating. But somehow, having Anderson defend her was almost worse. He was the one who’d encouraged her to share her ideas, all for Ben to scoff at how obvious they were.

And she’d thought the haunting would be the most difficult part of this assignment.

But until today, Penny had met almost no one else with a paranormal ability—“para-sensitives,” as Anderson called them. She’d left her comfort zone far behind.

Anderson paced in front of them, hands clasped behind his back. “We are here to clear the haunting at Demler Mansion,” he instructed in a professorial tone. “First, we determine the possible entities present and assess the level of danger. We cannot simply assume we know the factors at play.”

He returned to the computer keyboard and time-shifted the video until Ross’s face dominated the shot, his eyes wide.

“Second, we delve into background information to understand those entities and their motivations. We speak to witnesses and proceed with further research. Third?” Anderson punctuated the word by rapping his knuckles against the table. “We choreograph our approach to liberate the entities while minimizing casualties. Questions?”

Only a million, Penny thought. She hardly knew where to begin. She’d helped ghosts move on before, but she’d relied almost entirely on instinct.

Step one sounded clear enough, though—“determine the entities present.” In other words, identify the ghost. It might be Edmund Demler, the famous killer. But Anderson didn’t want them to assume.

“I have a question,” Zandra said. “According to Kacey’s statement, Hannah mentioned the name ‘Tina.’ Do we know who that is?”

“I do,” a quiet voice said. “I knew Tina.”

They turned. A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway, wearing a cable-knit sweater, her blond hair swept off her face. She pushed her cat-eye glasses up on her nose, smiling at them shyly.

“Tina Freeman was a resident at a local camp for girls,” the woman said softly. “She was also Edmund’s last victim.”

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

On the first day of dredging the lake, the deputies found Nicki. Tina Freeman watched from the doorway of the cabin she shared with three other girls.

Two other girls now, she thought.

Tina looked over her shoulder at Nicki’s bunk. The blanket remained neatly folded, just as Nicki had left it a week ago. There’d been a pillow, too, but Jasmine had stolen it the same night that Nicki took off.

People came and went all the time here. In just a few days, some other girl would take Nicki’s bunk. But Nicki had been different. To Tina, she had mattered. And now she was dead.

And it’s my fault, Tina thought.

Outside, the deputies had set up a tent by the lake. They gathered there now, their shadows moving around within the white fabric. Other girls watched from the cabins, too, gasping and crying because everybody knew what that tent had to mean. Plus the stretcher that the medics had leisurely carried inside.

Tina went into her room and pulled out her backpack from beneath the bottom bunk. Turning her body so the others couldn’t see her if they came in, she started rolling up items of clothing and cramming them into her pack.

A screen door slammed shut, which meant the lodge. “Girls, I’m sure you have better places to be?” Diane barked. “Schoolwork to do?”

Feet started shuffling on the wooden boardwalk that connected the cabins. “Let the sheriff’s office work. Choose to be productive, please. Boredom breeds unhappiness.”

Tina kept shoving things into her backpack. The tiny stuffed animal that she’d won at the town’s wildflower festival back in July. The creased Polaroids of her and Nicki that she’d buried in her socks-and-underwear drawer.

“Tina? Aren’t you supposed to be on lunch duty? It’s 10:45 already.”

Tina cursed under her breath. Why didn’t I shut the door? Why am I always such a dumb piece of—? She pushed the backpack under the bed and turned around.

Diane stood with a hand against the doorframe. The woman wore an apron with oversized pockets, carrying items like knitting needles and cheese graters and Sharpie markers. She was always doing three different tasks at once. Tina sometimes felt jealous of Diane’s sense of purpose. It was like she knew exactly why she’d been put here on this earth: to manage the day-to-day lives of thirty-some delinquent teenage girls, as if supervision would turn them docile and virtuous. Didn’t Diane get tired of constantly failing?

“Yeah, I’m on lunch today,” Tina said. At the last minute she added, “Ma’am.”

“It’ll help if we stay busy.” Diane put a hand on Tina’s shoulder. “You’d better get going. Those potatoes won’t bake themselves.”

Tina rubbed her hands against her jean shorts. She thought she might puke if she had to even look at a potato, but she’d just make things worse if she claimed to be sick. Then there’d be staff checking on her later, making her talk about her feelings at one of their campfire circles.

It wasn’t like Diane was mean. She was strict and all, but never said cruel things to them. She expected so much, though, and she never stopped looking disappointed when people did things they weren’t supposed to. Tina was eighteen, at least a decade and a half younger than Diane. But she’d learned better—it wasn’t boredom that bred unhappiness; it was hope.

“I’ll be right there,” she promised. “After I pee.” Don’t look at the top bunk, Tina told herself. Don’t look anywhere. Go deep inside where none of it can hurt you.

Diane’s eyebrow twitched. “All right.” She started to turn away, then hesitated. Instead of leaving, she came fully into the room and shut the door. “Nicki’s your bunkmate, isn’t she?”

Was, Tina wanted to shout. She’s dead. We both know it.

She nodded.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” Diane whispered. She was tall, with tanned skin and dull brown hair that she kept twisted back in a claw clip. The smell of raspberry and vanilla lotion surrounded her. “I thought Nicki went home. Then the police turn up this morning. They haven’t told us a thing.”

“I don’t know. Really.”

“All right. Well, I’ll check on you later I guess. Keep your chin up.”

When Tina got out of the bathroom, Diane had gone, though the scent of raspberry lingered.

In the lodge kitchen, a pot of water simmered. A pile of yellow potatoes sat beside the sink. Stomach burning, Tina got to work.

Vera came out of the walk-in fridge carrying an armload of onions. As usual, she wore her platinum blond hair in a high ponytail. Her red cat-eye glasses slipped down her nose.

“Are you feeling okay?” Vera asked, pushing the glasses up. “You’re looking pale.”

Tina shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Fine as any of us can be, you mean? Sometimes I wonder if they should fill that lake in.”

Vera was on staff here, in her twenties. A local who seemed content to stay in Crimson Falls forever. She was all smiles no matter what happened. Even if Diane scolded her or one of the camp girls had a fit, Vera’s eyes would just glaze over, her cherry-red glossed lips curving upward until it was over. Tina kept waiting for Vera’s happy-go-lucky demeanor to slip, revealing annoyance or sarcasm beneath. Because who could be that tranquil all the time? But unlike Diane, Vera never cared about anybody breaking the rules.

“Poor Nicki,” Vera remarked, her smile wistful, the closest she ever got to sad. She chopped onions and prattled on about the other girl who’d drowned last summer. Everyone said it had been an accident. But was that how Nicki got the idea? How long had she been planning it without giving away a clue? Or was it purely an impulse?

Just a few weeks ago, Nicki had cut her red hair into a bob like the supermodel Linda Evangelista. Nicki had the willowy limbs and angular face to pull off the look. She’d urged Tina to get the same style, but Tina knew her own cheeks were too round. After her haircut, Nicki had posed in front of the mirror in the cabin, puffing out her lips. Hey Teeny, I could be a Bond girl, couldn’t I? she’d asked. A deadly spy. Except too often in those movies, the women were the ones who ended up dying.

Tina’s eyes stung. She blinked, and forgot for a split second how she’d gotten here—a wet potato in one hand, rusty peeler in the other.

“They’ll probably want to interview all of us.” Vera hefted another pot onto the stove.

“What?” Tina looked up. “Interviews? Why?”

“It’s what they did after the last one. Rosalee. They set up in Diane’s office and made us come in, one by one, talking about how we knew Rose and when we’d last seen her. Whether she’d been upset and stuff like that.”

The potato had left a coating of slime on Tina’s hand. She gagged. The peeler clattered onto the floor.

“Hey, careful. Don’t hurt yourself.” Vera walked over and picked up the peeler, setting it on the counter. “If you need to lie down, you can skip lunch duty. I’ll ask Jasmine to fill in. Okay?”

“I—” Tina was about to protest that she was fine, thinking, Why can’t you just leave me alone? But then she realized how close she was to screaming. If she had to stand in this room cooking like nothing had happened, like Nicki’s body wasn’t lying inside that white tent, she’d lose her mind.

“Yeah. I don’t feel all that well.”

Vera pulled Tina into a hug. “We’ll be all right. Long as we stick together. Remember what Diane says? Sometimes new beginnings come in disguise.”

Tina had never hated Shady Valley more than right at that moment.

* * *

Tina first heard about the camp from her seatmate on the Greyhound Bus. She’d boarded in Denver, thinking vaguely that it would be cool to see the ocean, though she had no specific plans to go as far as California. She’d just wanted to make a point to her mother—If you think I’m going to blend into a new family like some modern reboot of the Brady Bunch, you’ve got another thing coming.

She couldn’t stand her stepfather or his big house in Highlands Ranch, which was over an hour’s drive from their old apartment in Boulder. Tina’s mom had the guy’s baby—first step in their start-over family. So Tina had cleared out her savings account—built up over the years from gifts from Grandpa and tips earned hostessing at a fancy Italian place on Pearl Street—bought the bus ticket, and set off on a personal summer vacation. She’d just finished her junior year. Next year she’d have to start over at a new school. Such a crock, being the new kid as a senior. Her mom couldn’t have waited a little longer for the wedding?

Tina had brought along a few rolls of quarters, too, so she could check in with Mom periodically via payphones. Because she wasn’t a monster.

But then, as she sat on the bus riding down I-70, Tina had looked into her pack and realized that her wallet was gone. Someone must’ve lifted it in the bus terminal. She’d made it less than a single day on her own.

Her seat mate, a tiny girl who was a sophomore at Metro State, had seen her distress. “I heard about this free camp for girls up north, by a lake. One of my friends stayed there for a couple weeks last summer. Supposed to be free.”

A camp for girls sounded awful, in theory. Was it a religious situation, where they’d try to pray the sinful independence out of her? Or a boot camp, where she’d have to do pull-ups and sit-ups all day and get screamed at by wannabe drill sergeants?

“But how would I even get there?” Tina had asked. Unless she hitchhiked.

“Or you could come to my house in Glenwood Springs.”

A hot springs vacation sounded nicer than the mystery camp, so Tina got off the bus with her new friend. But after a couple of days, the girl’s parents were eying Tina skeptically, and she knew she needed a longer-term plan. Either that, or slink back to Highlands Ranch to a summer of babysitting her step-siblings, and maybe waitressing at Chili’s.

But then Tina spotted a pamphlet for the Shady Valley Camp for Girls in the lobby at the public hot springs pool. She picked it up and paged through, studying the pictures and the text.

A friendly and accepting environment where all are welcome, no questions asked.

Campers gain work experience and earn spending money while making lifelong friendships.

The photos showed a stunning valley filled with wildflowers and grasslands. Blue mountains skimmed across the horizon. A wooden dock stretched into a lake with the sun setting behind. The girls looked happy, some with piercings in their eyebrows and ear cartilage, hair and skin of all colors.

There was some stuff about rules for minors during the school year, waivers signed by guardians, and other things Tina skimmed over. She had just turned eighteen, and it was summer break. No issues there.

She couldn’t explain it, but something about the place called to her. You just can’t sit still, her mom had said, in the years before she’d gotten remarried and didn’t want Tina around anymore. Her mom didn’t come out and say it, exactly, but Tina could tell. Everybody eventually got tired of her, and whenever she realized it had happened, she left before they could make her go.

The parents of her college friend—the one from the Greyhound bus—were happy enough to front the fifteen dollars for a bus headed north to Crimson Falls.

It was the worst mistake Tina had ever made in her life.

* * *

When sounds of lunchtime burst from the windows of the lodge, Tina grabbed her backpack and walked across the meadow toward the main road. As usual, she had no destination yet. No plan. She hadn’t decided yet if she would return. Technically, the new school year had started a few days ago. Her mom hadn’t yet tried to make her come home for senior year. What if Tina didn’t bother to graduate? Would anyone care?

Nicki had all kinds of plans, like moving to New York to join a modeling agency. Studying French literature in college. So plans didn’t necessarily mean a thing, did they?

Tina just needed to get away to some new place—where Nicki’s bunk wasn’t right above hers, sitting empty. Someplace that she and Nicki hadn’t shared laughs and poured out their souls.

Though both of them kept secrets, too. Some things were too shameful to say out loud, not even to your closest friend.

“My best friend is dead,” she whispered again, because she deserved to feel the anguish of those words. “I let her leave. I yelled at her and she left, and now she’ll never come back.”

Sweat rolled down her spine, and her skin felt tight after a few minutes of sun. Sometimes, she borrowed Nicki’s Rockies cap when they hiked outside. It had smelled of Coconut Suave shampoo. Where was it now? In the lake, or had the deputies found it with her body?

There was an ambulance waiting with its engine off. That was kind of sick, wasn’t it? Bringing an ambulance to carry a dead body, as if there was any hope left?

Police cars were parked all over the road. Tina gave them a wide berth, keeping her head down. They didn’t notice her.

The bus wasn’t due for another half hour. But she couldn’t stand around here waiting. Tina was sure she could walk to the next stop down the road before it arrived.

She was about a mile from the ambulance when a silver Buick approached, traveling the opposite way. She had seen the car before. It belonged to Grant Demler, Diane’s younger brother. He was in his twenties, a sheriff’s deputy, but everybody still thought of him as the star basketball forward at Crimson Falls High. The other camp residents stood straighter and stuck their chests out whenever he dropped by the cabins—which was more often than Tina thought necessary. Not that Grant paid any attention to her.

The Buick slowed, and the window rolled down. Tina kept walking, eyes forward on the straight line of the road.

“Hey. You need a ride?”

She stopped and looked over. But it wasn’t Grant driving the car.

This guy was younger. He had Grant’s sloping nose and dark features, but he’d buzzed his hair close to his scalp. She’d seen him before, just from a distance.

Edmund. That was his name. Another one of the Demlers. Unlike Grant, he didn’t come around the cabins.

Except once, Tina recalled. Maybe a week or two after she’d arrived. The day that Grant and a few other guys came to build the wooden storage shed by the lake. That day, Tina definitely remembered, because it ended with Grant’s nose bloodied. Which he’d probably deserved.

Edmund’s arm draped out of the open window, fingers drumming against the car door. He wasn’t smiling. Perhaps that was what made Tina cross the road to speak to him—the impression that he wasn’t trying to flirt with her.

“I’m heading into town,” she said, nodding in the direction from which he’d come.

“Aren’t you from Shady Valley?”

The rest went unsaid: campers only went into town on weekends. This was a Tuesday. “So? I wanted to leave. Free country.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’d you want to leave?”

“Because I do,” she shouted. “It’s none of your business.” She couldn’t help looking back at the line of police vehicles, which were blurry from the heat rising off the asphalt. September was supposed to be fall, wasn’t it? Almost, anyway. Yet the highs were still in the eighties this week. A bead of sweat ran from her hairline into her ear.

If Edmund was shocked or annoyed that she’d yelled at him, he didn’t show it. “Okay, I’ll drive you. Get in.”

“You’re heading the wrong way.”

For the first time, a hint of a smile. “I know how to turn around.”

Why not? she thought. Better than standing out here in the heat.

She got in and shut the door, resting her backpack between her feet. But he didn’t pull away. He seemed to be waiting for something.

“Can we go?” she asked.

Suddenly Edmund moved toward her, arm caging her in. She gasped and shrank back.

He grabbed hold of the seatbelt and stretched it across her stomach. The metal connector clicked into place.

“Safety first, fun second,” he said. It was one of Diane’s dumb little sayings. His eyes met hers. He was still angled toward her, the sleeve of his t-shirt brushing her arm. Her body shook with each beat of her heart.

Edmund put the Buick into gear, pulled into a U-turn, and sped off toward town.

Chapter Four

Penny had heard of Edmund Demler as a cautionary tale—the kind of story traded by her female classmates in high school about the dangers of hitchhiking, not that anyone was so trusting or foolish anymore.

He wasn’t quite a household name. He was one of those second-tier serial killers, one that fans of true crime podcasts and daytime documentaries knew about. His killings hadn’t been especially gruesome, but there was something about his youth and his unusually striking face—masculine, yet almost more beautiful than handsome—that captured the public’s attention. Some compared him to Ted Bundy and claimed that Demler would’ve been even more prolific if he hadn't died so soon.

When Anderson Green asked Penny to join his team on this case, Penny had done some research to refresh her memory, and realized she hadn’t known that much about the man at all.

In the mid-nineties, when Demler was around nineteen, a girl disappeared from the Crimson Falls area. Rosalee. Then another girl the following summer. Nicki. Both had been staying at a camp for troubled teen girls. Later, their bodies were found in the lake not far from Demler Mansion.

Now, Penny remembered—Tina was the third girl to disappear.

Anderson strode over to the woman in the cable-knit sweater, offering his hand. “You must be Vera. I’m Anderson Green.”

“I’m called Vera Miller now, but in my heart, I’ll always be Vera Demler. I wasn’t born into the family, though. I married in.”

“Your husband passed last year, I heard?” Anderson said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Vera’s eyes brightened behind her red-framed glasses. “Thank you, I appreciate the condolences. Yes, Sylas died last year after battling stomach cancer.”

“So you own the Demler property?” Zandra asked.

“I do now. The big house and these cabins. Back in ’95, when Tina was still alive, I just worked here. After what happened with Edmund, the rest of the family wanted nothing more to do with this place.”

“But not your husband?” Anderson prompted.

She shook her head like she was shaking off the memories. “Most of the relatives think I should just tear it all down—like my nephew Trey Lofton. You met him earlier, I believe. Trey’s the sheriff now, and he’s making every effort to help me despite his difference of opinion.”

Penny tapped a finger against her lower lip. Sheriff Lofton hadn’t mentioned that he was part of the Demler family. No wonder he’d been sensitive about privacy.

“Even if you tore down the house, the ghosts would still remain on the property,” Zandra pointed out. “Quite possibly even angrier than before.”

“Well I wouldn’t do it, regardless,” Vera said. “My husband Sylas refused to let Edmund destroy everything that this family once stood for, and I feel the same. I’m still hoping to fix the house up one day, once I’ve saved enough money. That was Sylas’s dream, too, before he died.” She tugged her cardigan closed and hugged herself, eyes going distant. “So I’m certainly grateful for your help.”

Anderson looked to Zandra. Penny studied the silent communication that passed between the two. She couldn’t tell what it meant. But Zandra seemed to get the message, because she nodded.

“We’re going to head over to Demler Mansion for a preliminary assessment,” Zandra said. “Vera, would you walk with us?”

“Me?”

“You could tell us more about the Demler family. I get the sense it has many branches?”

Vera laughed. “Oh, yes. If you want to understand Crimson Falls, you’ll have to get used to the Demler family history. It permeates everything around here.”

“Then come with us. As long as you don’t mind walking back in the dark,” Zandra added. “We might be out for a little while.”

“I don’t usually like going out in the dark, since my night vision isn’t the best. But I’ll bring a lantern. I’d like to do my part.” Vera had straightened, her frown disappearing, which surprised Penny. Given the reputation of Demler Mansion and the recent events, she’d have expected the woman to refuse going too near.

“Let me just grab my coat and change my shoes on the way,” Vera said. “I live in the cottage on the far end of the property.”

* * *

They walked along a well-worn path to the lake. Woods hemmed them in on the right side of the trail, while the water lay to the left. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the lake and the surrounding land in shadow. Vera and Anderson chatted at the front; Ben was bringing up the rear, carrying a black duffle that Penny guessed held more equipment. Each member of the Mercury team wore a tech vest. The thing felt heavy, and Penny couldn’t help looking down at the constantly shifting digital numbers on her chest.

“You’ll get used to it,” Zandra said. “The vest is only distracting at first.”

“But what does it do?”

“Tracks your bio signs as well as the stats of the area around you—temperature, radiation. There’s an app for your phone when you have cell service or wifi. Your vest also connects at shorter ranges directly to your partner—well, the other members of the team, so they’re notified if you’re in distress. Uses radio frequencies, so you’re fairly free to roam.”

Inside Demler Mansion? Penny thought. I have no intention of roaming.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Zandra said, as if Penny had voiced her concern out loud. “We’ll be staying together.”

“Were you…reading my mind just now?” Penny could hear the thoughts of the dead. It had never occurred to her before now that some para-sensitives could sense the thoughts of the living. But why not? Penny’s brother had prophetic dreams. What other strange talents might be out there?

“I was only paying attention to your body language,” Zandra replied, “but I can read energy. Though I’d prefer you keep that fact to yourself. My talent comes in handy with interviewing witnesses, but not as much if they know.”

Penny thought of the first moments they’d met, how Zandra had been looking at her so intently.

“You were reading me earlier though. Right?”

Zandra gave a slight nod. “I try not to read my colleagues, as professional courtesy, but sometimes it’s out of my control. I hope you’ll understand.”

“Do I have much choice?” Penny said. But she added a smile. We’re all doing our job, she thought. “What else can you do?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Zandra lifted her chin in Vera’s direction. “Come on. We’re still in the middle of an interview, and Anderson’s probably getting antsy. I’d better get on with it.”

Zandra picked up her pace. “Ms. Miller?” she asked when they caught up. “Or do you prefer Demler?”

The woman glanced back. “Just Vera, please.”

“Vera, I’m curious about your cabins. How long has the resort been in operation?”

“Well, that’s a complicated subject.” They crossed a low bridge, and their footsteps clattered against the wood. “We opened as lodgings about a decade ago, Sylas and I. It’s really a lovely vacation spot, with the lake and the mountain views.” She gestured around them, although the landscape was fast disappearing as the light faded. “But…most of our tourists are here because of the media focus on Edmund. Including those kids last month—Hannah and Kacey and Ross. Poor things. I tell everyone not to go near the house.”

“But before?” Zandra asked. “Were the cabins part of the Demlers’ youth camp?”

The camp for girls, Penny thought. Where Edmund’s victims had been staying.

Vera sighed. When she frowned, the circles beneath her eyes darkened. Penny wondered how many sleepless nights this woman had suffered because of Edmund Demler’s legacy. And yet she’d stayed here.

“Shady Valley Camp for Girls. When I was on staff, I did a little of everything. Cooking, cleaning, watching out for the residents. I got to be friends with Sylas’s sisters, though I didn’t meet him until later, when he got back from his tour overseas. He was serving as a Marine in Bosnia when all the terrible things happened here. The murders, the fire.”

“Did you know Edmund?” Zandra asked.

Vera opened her mouth to reply, then simply nodded instead. She stopped walking. “There’s the house.”

Demler Mansion sat on a rise on the other side of the lake, just at the edge of the woods. There was something isolated and lonely about the place, and it took Penny a moment to put a finger on the reason—except for that dramatic, crumbling front staircase, no paved driveways or walkways led to the house. Tall grass had grown around its foundations, like nature was slowly reclaiming it.

Penny heard Ben approach behind them. Their whole group stayed quiet for a minute or two, watching the interplay of light and shadow in the home’s remaining windows. The distance should’ve been too far for Penny to sense any ghosts yet. But dread began to build in her stomach.

Someone’s up there, she thought.

She remembered Ross in the video, filming from that second-floor bedroom window. Could that be why he drowned them? Ross had said. Seeing them happy, when he was stuck in here?

“I suppose I should tell you a little about him now,” Vera said quietly. A light breeze ruffled her hair against her cheek. “Edmund.”

“If you feel up to it,” Anderson said, placing a hand just briefly on Vera’s arm.

She nodded again, turning to face them. But Vera kept herself at an angle, so that the house remained in her peripheral vision. Like she didn’t want to turn her back on the place.

“My husband, Sylas Demler, was the oldest of five siblings. Deacon Demler was their father, and he had quite the larger-than-life reputation. I grew up in the next town over, but everybody in the county knew about him. Deacon was born into wealth, one of those playboy types who goes looking for ways to throw his money around. He was obsessed with the legendary Old West.” She laughed. “That’s why our Main Street is full of those false-front clapboard buildings, just like a Western movie set, even though none of it was built until the 1950s.”

“Like The Stagecoach Diner?” Penny asked, thinking of the restaurant where they’d had coffee with Sheriff Lofton that morning.

“Indeed. That’s Diane’s place, Sylas’s younger sister. She was the middle child. I always thought the Old West theme was kinda hokey. But now our Main Street’s so rundown that plenty of people think it’s all original from the nineteenth century, so I guess in that way, Deacon got what he wanted—a sense of history to his town, even a manufactured one.”

She brushed a few strands from her face. Zandra stood still with her hands clasped behind her back. Ben kept shifting from foot to foot, and Penny found herself fidgeting too, like his restlessness was catching.

“Anyhow,” Vera continued, “there was a minor scandal when the eldest girl, Rachel, ran away from home. I never met her, but Sylas and Diane said she’d been artistic. A real creative type, dreaming of being an actress, so a town like Crimson Falls felt like a prison. But eventually, Rachel came back with all her shiny optimism worn away. And she was pregnant. Deacon wasn’t exactly a progressive thinker, but his wife Lisa…God rest her soul, she could be a dragon when it came to morals, especially as concerned her daughters. So they hushed it all up. Kept Rachel’s pregnancy a secret. When Edmund was born, the family pretended he was the son of a housemaid.”

“Did people believe it?” Penny asked.

Vera looked up in surprise, like she’d forgotten the others were there. “Oh, I don’t know. Rachel died when Edmund was a baby. Sylas didn’t like talking about that, but I gathered that she might’ve taken her own life. Almost twenty years later, in the early 90s—after Deacon and Lisa had both passed—the Demler siblings started their youth camp for runaway girls. Diane was really the force behind the idea. She wanted to provide a safe place for young women like Rachel, who’d left home and found themselves in a bad situation, but who didn’t have anywhere to go.”

Vera glanced back at the house. The sun was a deep red wound at the horizon.

“I imagine you know well enough how that turned out, if you’ve read the internet or seen those TV movies,” Vera said. “All I know is, by the time I started working at the youth camp, Edmund was essentially a recluse inside that house. By his own choice. I never saw him around the cabins. I didn’t know him well. Not at all.”

She’d spoken these last words like she was desperate to believe them.

“Thank you, Vera,” Anderson said. “That’s all very helpful. We’re going to take a look around the house, get some preliminary readings.”

“Do you think the ghost is Edmund?”

“That’s what we intend to find out.”

“And you’ll be careful? I don’t want anyone else hurt.”

Anderson inclined his head, not quite a nod. “I’ll be sending regular updates your way, but feel free to reach out. I’ve always got my cell, and failing that, my team stays connected by radio. Find one of them, and you’ll find me.”

Vera said goodbye. She retreated along the path, her lantern swaying.

After Vera had gone, Ben passed out flashlights and headlamps to the others. Penny strapped hers on, feeling faintly ridiculous. Her father, Lawrence, would probably be giddy with excitement right now if he were here; he’d always wanted to be a paranormal investigator. She’d spent nearly her whole life trying to avoid situations like this.

But desperation tends to make one more open minded, she thought, remembering Anderson’s words from that morning.

“Don’t worry so much,” Zandra whispered. “It’s only the first day.”

Penny sputtered a laugh. “You’re right. I should probably pace myself.”

Anderson switched on his flashlight, pointing it at the grass. The sun had just vanished, and darkness was swallowing the landscape around them. “Tonight is strictly recon,” he said. “No unnecessary risks. I want to know who or what is in that house, and what it wants. Let’s move.”

They walked toward the mansion, easily climbing over the low perimeter fence.

As they neared the house, Penny felt an electric hum dancing in the air. They were being watched, but she couldn’t tell yet if the presence might be hostile.

Steps led up the hill to the massive front door. White pillars stood to either side. Anderson paused to fit a key into the padlock.

The door swung open on creaking hinges. The foyer was dark. Penny saw broken stone tiles, streaks of dirt.

“Lights?” Anderson said.

Ben stepped forward, crossing the threshold. He knelt to unzip the duffle. Out came two tripods, which he quickly set up a few feet into the room. They switched on; the bulbs emitted a diffuse yet intense glow. The size of the space came into view—a cavernous ceiling, decorated with elaborate plaster moldings and a cobwebbed chandelier made of antlers. A staircase led up to the upper floors. To the left and right, hallways branched away from the entry. Windows reflected back the lights and the group standing near the doorway.

Right away, Penny felt the intensity of the hum increase. Ghost activity.

A presence was definitely nearby.

“Ben?” Anderson asked. “Can you give us the lay of the land?”

Chapter Five

Ben’s eyelids drooped as he tried to relax. Spirit trails took many forms. Heat and cold, luminescence and shadow.

Don’t reach for them, his mother had instructed, more times than he could count. Let them flow past you.

Anderson’s feet tapped near the still-open front door. Penny, the new girl, wandered aimlessly across the vast entryway. And Zandra stood impassive, watching all of them. Ben couldn’t get thoughts or emotions from his teammates, not like Z. But they still shone like bright lights in the room, making him blind to the subtler energies at play.

Z especially. He kept wondering what she could read from him. Did Z know how nervous he was right now? Did Z know that he knew that she knew?

Ugh, now he was going in circles.

Mom—known to her adoring fans as Gwendolyn Kwan, Ghost Whisperer—made this part look easy. She could work an audience and scan a room for ghosts at the same time. Mom specialized in communing with dead relatives, finding lost family heirlooms, holding seances with rich widows in grand houses. Ben didn’t share his Mom’s flair for performance. But her talents were very real, and she’d helped Ben develop his own. The calm inside was the key.

No matter what, she had told him, don’t let the others in the room interfere with your ties to the spirit world. That connection comes from within you. Here, she would touch his stomach with her pointer finger, the long acrylic nail pressing gently to emphasize the message. You must let everyone else go.

But that was where he struggled—letting go.

Slowly, the bright lights of his teammates began to dissolve. A spirit trail emerged, weaving through the house, pulsing with energy. No—two trails. Three. More.

“Got something?” Zandra asked.

He glanced over and found his partner standing right next to him. He jumped a little. The wry curve at her mouth proved that she’d noticed. They’d never officially worked together before, but everyone in the Mercury Group knew Zandra’s reputation. It was eerie, the way she often knew what you’d say just before you said it.

“Multiple branches, leading all over the house,” Ben reported.

“Fresh?” Anderson asked.

Ben nodded. He chose one strand and tried to follow it, but it was like pulling free a single thread from a knot. “More than one entity.”

Anderson’s eyebrow peaked. “More than one? Interesting.”

“I feel them,” Penny said. “There are…whispers. Several voices speaking at once. Confused. Upset.”

Penny walked toward the stairs, and the currents shifted. The trails warped around her, both growing clearer and stronger. She had an effect on them. No wonder Anderson was so interested in her.

But why did Anderson really stick Penny with Zandra and me? he wondered. Ben was on probation right now, for reasons he really didn’t like to think about. The last thing he needed was a trainee.

Unless Anderson didn’t want Zandra to partner with Ben for the long term. He was surprised how much that idea bothered him. It wasn’t that Ben disliked Zandra—not at all. But she intimidated the heck out of him. She was smarter than him, she had an incredible record of clearing hauntings. He didn’t want to fail in front of her.

And the fact that Zandra had flawless skin, a lean frame, glossy hair and ethereal bone structure? He had not noticed any of those features because he was a civilized professional, not a cave man, thank you very much.

Yet Zandra—and everyone else at the Mercury Group—believed the very worst about him, all because of his last partner. And he couldn’t tell any of them the truth.

“You okay?” Zandra asked quietly, so only he would hear.

“Uh, yeah.” He forced his attention back to the present, redoubling his concentration. Spirit trails swirled before him, hinting at their stories.

To Ben, ghosts didn’t look like people. In fact, he didn’t always “see” spirit trails; sometimes he felt them, or simply sensed them with his mind’s eye. Nearly everyone in his family had some level of sensitivity, so he’d learned at a young age that no two paranormal talents were identical. Ben didn’t even call himself a medium—he preferred the term “tracker.”

Nor did he see a ghost’s memories inside his head, playing out like a movie. Instead, he got vague impressions of their emotions. When a polt was near, he’d feel the rumblings of turbulent energy. A calmer ghost might give off vibrations of despair or regret. Ben could follow a spirit entity at a safe distance, waiting until it was open to suggestion. A few soothing words at the opportune moment, and the entity would leave. He usually left that part to his partner.

Of course, not all ghosts went easily. But that was why the Mercury Group paired agents with varying talents—so they’d be prepared for nearly anything. Ben wasn’t sure yet how his skills would complement Zandra’s. They’d need to know one another a lot better. The partner relationship could be—for lack of a better word—intimate.

“Can you assess the danger, Ben?” Anderson asked.

“Low, at the moment.” He raised his handheld electromagnetic detector, confirming his observations. Steady activity, but stable.

Where are you, Demler? Ben thought to himself.

The strands began to untangle and separate. A strong trail led upstairs. Another circled Penny herself and moved deeper into the first floor. “This is weird, though,” Ben said. “Penny’s affecting the trails. One in particular is drawn to her. Not sure what it means.”

“I feel it, too,” Zandra said.

Anderson crossed the entryway. “Penny? Any visible phenomena?”

“Not yet. I hear whispers. But there’s one voice that’s a little louder. A man’s voice. He’s…” She shook her head. “I can’t describe it exactly. There are no words.” Then her eyes widened. “He’s humming a song.”

“It could be Demler. The trail leads that way.” Ben pointed toward an archway; beyond lay a fireplace and what must’ve been a living room, though no furniture remained.

“Wait,” Zandra said. “I think the entity wants us to follow it. He could be sentient. If it’s Demler…”

“Then he’s the reason we’re here,” Anderson finished. “You should go say hello. But stick to the first floor, and if he gets feisty, ease off. I’ll be monitoring the equipment. Set your timers for ten minutes, then head back here.”

Chapter Six

Penny walked with Zandra and Ben deeper into the house. A melody hummed in her mind. She recognized the song. Something from the 90s, though she couldn’t quite place the name of it. Eerie and dark, full of simmering anger.

Ben led the way, his flashlight pointing forward. The green numbers on his vest flashed whenever he turned.

“You said the ghost we’re following could be sentient,” Penny whispered. “Does that mean he’s awake? Aware?”

Zandra nodded. “He could know we’re here.”

Penny’s heart rattled in her chest.

They walked out of the entry hall. In the next room, huge animal trophies lined the walls, profiles solemn in the dimness. Above the fireplace, a broken mirror reflected back their flashlights.

A bit of silver glinted in the glass. Then it was gone.

Someone laughed, deep and throaty. Penny whirled around, expecting to find a man right behind her. But the doorway was empty.

She remembered the grainy photos she’d seen online. Headlines like, Teen Killer Drowned Last Victim Before Perishing in Fire. A buzzed haircut. A prominent, sloping nose, intense eyes, full mouth. Edmund Demler.

He’s here, she thought. I know it.

“Can you hear him?” she asked Zandra, who was keeping pace beside her. “The voice humming?”

“Not directly. But I feel it.”

Ben stopped suddenly at the next archway. Yellow police tape cordoned off the area. A huge pile of blackened, splintered wood filled the room beyond the tape.

“This must be where Hannah Eckert fell,” Zandra said, pointing upward at the gaping hole. “From the second floor.”

Penny guessed this had once been a dining room—she saw a couple of carved table legs, a crushed chair—but that was before the ceiling had caved in on top of it. Her heart twisted as she thought of the girl landing down here.

Something tickled Penny’s neck, thin as a strand of cobweb. She brushed it away, looking around her.

Wait for me.

A girl’s voice. Tense with fear.

Ben spun to face them. “One of the other trails just looped back here. A woman. Or maybe a girl; I can’t tell the age. But it’s strong.”

“Yes,” Penny confirmed. “I hear her.”

“Did we lose the first one?” Zandra asked. “The man?”

“No. I’ve got him. This way.” Ben hurried away through a different door.

They ran into a kitchen. A butcher-block table slanted toward the wall. An old refrigerator had lost its doors, and rust streaked the stove. Ben turned a circle in the center of the room, studying the ceiling.

“Multiple trails converge here.” Ben looked back at Penny, frowning. “They’re tangled up again—around you.”

“Do you see anything, Penny?” Zandra asked softly.

Inside her mind, the chorus of voices battled to be heard. Whispers, cries, snatches of the man’s song. For a brief instant, she saw a woman bending over the stove, a roasting pan heavy in her arms. A small boy grabbed a circle of uncooked dough from the counter, and a wrinkled hand reached out to swat him away.

The same boy—older now, a teenager—sat alone in the dark, music playing from his headphones. Then a young woman with red hair tip-toed through the room. She cried out in surprise when someone lunged at her from the shadows.

The images flew through Penny’s head, overwhelming her. Wait, the girl whispered. Please, wait. Penny fell to one knee.

“Wait for me,” someone said.

Penny realized that she was the one who’d spoken. But she didn’t know the significance of the words.

Zandra’s hand gripped her arm. “You’re being influenced.”

“I realize that,” Penny struggled to say. The words were halting. “But I can’t make it stop.” She rarely could, at moments like this. A ghost’s memories, if powerful enough, could swallow her up completely, sometimes for hours. Her throat tightened, her mind grasping to stay above the surface. But the images kept coming. Shouts, cries. There was too much input. Bile rose in her throat.

“Open your eyes,” Zandra said. “Look at me.”

Penny obeyed. Zandra had a mole on her cheek. Small flecks of pale blue and violet dotted her brown eyes.

“Imagine the memories flowing through you and then out.” Zandra took her hands. The flood of images and voices slowed.

Ben looked on, eyes moving back and forth between them. “The clock is ticking,” he murmured. “Two minutes left.”

“Should we go back now?” Zandra asked.

“No.” Penny struggled to catch her breath. “Thank you. I don’t know what you did, but it helped. I’m good.”

She could see the people more clearly—the girl with red hair, a cook wearing an apron. A young woman lying in a bed, deathly pale, sheets red with blood.

And the man with buzzed hair and dark eyes. Alone in the dark.

“Did you see him?” Zandra asked. “Edmund?”

“It’s his memories, I think.” Penny tried not to dwell too much on the man himself, the things he’d done.

“But the other trails—are they his victims?”

“At least one of them. Yes.”

Zandra stood. “All right, less than a minute on our timers. We’ve made progress. I say we go back.”

“Just a second,” Ben said. “I’m getting a lot of activity from this direction. Both old and new.”

He walked toward a door that hung lopsided from broken hinges. Ben carefully lifted the rectangle of wood and moved it aside. A cramped room full of shelves appeared. A pantry. It flooded with light from Ben’s high-powered beam. Yellowed walls, small things scurrying away from the brightness.

Edmund, Penny thought. He’s here. Listening to his music in the dark.

Yet she couldn’t stop her feet from moving closer. She stepped into the pantry right behind Ben.

“There’s something back here,” Ben said. “Another door.”

Penny could see its outline in the opposite wall. Not hidden, yet she knew right away that this was a door that the Demler family didn’t want opened.

She saw the red-haired girl standing in the pantry. Sun streamed from the kitchen windows in the room beyond.

Then the scene changed rapidly. Penny gasped. Her stomach swooped with nausea.

Night. Hands grabbed her from the back. Something sharp pricked her neck. Her vision clouded over. It was too much.

“Penny?” Zandra said. “What’s happening?”

Pressure filled her head. She was underwater. She couldn’t breathe. An alarm beeped somewhere. A distant part of Penny’s mind knew it was her tech vest. She inhaled to scream. Her lungs exploded with pain as liquid rushed in instead of air.

Don’t do this, please. No. Edmund, wait.

The bulb in Ben’s flashlight burst. Sparks seared across Penny’s vision. Zandra’s headlamp followed.

“We’ve got a polt,” Ben yelled. “Go back.”

The alarm on Penny’s vest abruptly cut out, along with its digital numbers. The entire kitchen plunged into darkness. Ben and Zandra were shouting commands.

A hand found hers. It pulled her upright. She stumbled forward a few steps. A door slammed.

Penny fell to a cold, stone floor.

Muffled sounds came from nearby, but this room was quiet. She only heard breathing. It wasn’t her own.

“Zandra?” she asked. “Ben?”

No answer came out of the dark.

But then, a low voice. Humming.

Light seeped into the room—from where, she had no clue. The space was tiny, empty, no windows.

An outline emerged beside her.

Someone sat there on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. The hand brushed hers again, and she recoiled.

“Who are you?”

The figure laughed, his mouth sliding into a cruel grin, because they both knew that she already had guessed the answer.

She stood, searching frantically for the door handle. But all she found was smooth plaster walls.

“Who are you?” His voice imitated hers. When she turned, she found a glowing cloud of silver hovering in the air.

It rushed at her.

Cold surged through Penny’s body. The light blinded her. Everything turned white, and then to black. She was falling away into a dream. Into the darkest of memories.

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

“Can you turn that down?” Tina asked.

They were driving toward Crimson Falls. Music played on Edmund’s tape deck, full of metallic clanging and synthesizers.

“You don’t like Nine Inch Nails?” But he turned down the volume without waiting for an answer.

She wasn’t into this kind of music, all dark and moody. Cups and wrappers littered the floor beneath Tina’s feet. She crossed her legs, looking out the window. Scraggly sunflowers grew in the ditches on the side of the road.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Tina. And you’re Edmund, right?” She wanted to sound confident, like she rode around with guys she didn’t know all the time.

“How’d you know?”

“I heard some of the other girls talking about you.”

The corner of his mouth inched up. “Did they say nice things?”

On the day that Grant and his friends built the storage shed, they’d worked with their shirts off, sweat rolling between their pecs. Except for Edmund—he’d insisted on wearing a black t-shirt.

“They said you’re a distant relative of Grant’s, or something. You live in the house but you hardly ever come out.” And that you’re weird and don’t like to talk. But he was out of the house right now. So maybe the girls didn’t know what they were talking about.

Some of the girls—like Nicki—had stared openly from the lakeshore while the guys built the shed. Tina had glanced over every once in a while between reading and chores. It was a nice view, sure, but guys like those wouldn’t have given her a second glance. She had seen the big confrontation at the end of the day, though—when Grant and Edmund started arguing, and Edmund lashed out. Mike Lofton, Grant’s fellow deputy and brother-in-law, arrested Edmund and took him into town, cuffed and everything. He’s hot, Nicki had said afterward. But like, the damaged kind of hot. Which can be exhausting.

“What about the cops?” Edmund asked.

“What?” Her head whipped toward him.

“At the cabins today? What’s going on? I’m assuming that’s why you wanted to take off. All the police cars?”

Tina sat back again. “Oh. They’re looking for Nicki.” The police knew Nicki was missing because Tina had told them. Nicki had left, supposedly heading for home near Colorado Springs. But when Tina called Nicki’s home number a few days ago, her mom said she’d never made it.

“Did they find her?”

“I think so,” Tina whispered.

For a couple of minutes they were quiet. The music played, and the tires rolled over the asphalt. Finally he said, “That sucks.”

“Did you even know her?” She expected him to say no, but he nodded.

“We hung out a few times.”

“You and Nicki? She never mentioned you.”

His eyes slid over. “She never mentioned you, either.”

The crushing feeling in Tina’s chest got a little worse. She couldn’t believe that Nicki had hung out with the strange loner cousin of the Demlers and never said anything.

But that was why they’d fought, wasn’t it? Because Nicki was obviously hiding things. Getting herself into trouble. She’d said she was dating someone, but wouldn’t say who.

Could it have been him? Edmund?

Tina didn’t want to ask. She was afraid to know the answer, simply because it would prove that Nicki hadn’t truly cared for her.

“When did you last see her?” Tina asked.

He shrugged, hands tight on the steering wheel. “I can’t remember.”

“She said she was going home last Friday.” Tina had no reason to trust him, or even to think he’d understand. But she found herself talking without really thinking about it. “Nicki was my bunkmate. She was upset about something, and wouldn’t explain. Do you know anything about it?”

“No clue.”

She paused, just in case he might say more. But he didn’t. “Well, I finally got pissed and told her to just go, if that was what she wanted. Then she did. That was the last I saw her.”

“There’s no way to know what was in her head,” Edmund said.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter what any of us thinks.” Nothing would change the fact that Nicki was dead.

“That is a true statement.”

They reached Main Street, and Edmund slowed down. “Where exactly were you planning to go? The bus out of town doesn’t leave till this afternoon.”

“I didn’t have a specific place. I mean, I don’t know if I want to leave.”

“You just needed some space?”

“Yeah.” Tina put her hand to the window. Buildings rolled past, the storefronts bustling with people. The old-fashioned sweet shop, the grocery, souvenir and rock shops swarming with tourists. Edmund’s music continued to play, and he hummed along with the eerie melodies.

“There’s someplace else we could go,” he said. “If you want.”

Did you take Nicki there? she wanted to ask. “Where is it?”

“A place I like to go when I want to be alone.”

She knew she probably should say no. Edmund was a complete stranger. But he seemed all right. And Tina didn’t really care right now where she went, so long as she got away from Shady Valley.

He drove until Main Street was behind them, and woods closed in. The car turned onto a narrow, unpaved path, bumping over potholes. He kept humming, sometimes murmuring the lyrics, fingers drumming a hard beat into the steering wheel.

They were driving into a canyon. Cliffs quickly rose on either side of the road. The trees were so close they sometimes brushed the sides of the car.

With each mile that passed, taking her farther from the camp, the more numb she felt.

Finally, Edmund stopped. Just right there on the path. He got out, then bent down to look at her. “Coming?”

“Um, yeah.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, only realizing then that he hadn’t been wearing his.

They walked down the path. Tina waved away gnats. Wildflowers grew in knots and tangles at their feet, and Tina found herself wishing she knew their names. Water rushed nearby, maybe a creek. Edmund was a few inches taller than her, narrow in the stomach and hips. She had to walk fast to keep up with his long strides.

She had an urge to turn and run into the dense brush. Disappear into the nothingness she already felt inside.

Edmund looked back over his shoulder. “Not too much further.”

“Okay.”

The path ended, blocked by several large rocks. They scrambled over them. A small waterfall appeared, cascading down a cliffside into a rushing creek. Water sloshed in foamy rings around submerged boulders. Ferns and moss and tiny white flowers grew on the banks.

“Welcome to Crimson Falls,” Edmund said.

The air smelled moist and sweet. “I didn’t know the town was named for, you know, a real waterfall.”

He sat on a rock and trailed his hand in the water. Tina did the same. The current pulled at her. The cold turned her fingers to ice.

“Some people say the falls look red when the setting sun hits the water at the right time of year,” he murmured. “But I’ve been here a million times at sunset. There’s another story to explain the name.”

He paused. Clearly he wanted her to ask.

“Okay, what’s the story?”

Edmund dipped his fingers into the creek again. “Two families of homesteaders came out here in the mid-1800s, traveling together, helping each other build houses and all that. The oldest son and oldest daughter from each family fell in love. Got married. Everything was great until their first winter. They ran out of food. Ate the oxen and the goats. Then the new bride died. Or maybe the new husband? Who knows. But basically, the families turned on each other. When they were finished, the creek ran red.”

Tina didn’t want to imagine it, but still, the cascades of water turned crimson in her mind. The white froth became as dark as her mother’s favorite cabernet. She blinked her eyes rapidly, forcing the images away.

“Dark story.”

He smiled, not looking at her. “That’s why I like it. That’s how people really are—selfish and cruel. They might pretend otherwise for a while, but eventually, the truth comes to the surface.”

“Not everyone.”

“Oh, yes.” His eyes lifted, meeting hers. “Everyone. You and me included.”

Without warning, tears streaked down her nose and cheeks. She tasted salt when she licked her lips.

“You’re crying.”

She swiped at her face. “No.”

He moved to the rock beside hers. “Bad things have to happen to someone. This time, it was her. But once you’re dead, you don’t care who’s crying for you or who misses you.”

Tina didn’t want to believe that. She wanted to think that Nicki understood how sorry she was. She wanted Nicki to forgive her for being such a bad friend.

“How would you know what being dead is like?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen my mother a hundred times, and she died right after I was born.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just how it sounds. You don’t have to believe me.”

She waited for him to say he was kidding. But he just stared into the water.

“Have you seen…Nicki?” she asked.

“As a ghost?” Slowly, he shook his head.

“It’s just that she’s been gone over a week, and I keep wondering if that whole time…” Her eyes filled with tears again.

“People always think they want to know,” Edmund said. “But you don’t. Trust me.”

Maybe he was right, though she didn’t appreciate his patronizing tone. “You’re all doom and gloom. Why’d you even offer me a ride? If people are so terrible and nothing matters.”

He reached over and touched a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers.

Tina reared back, trying to stand, but she ended up stepping into the icy water. The current grabbed at her legs, trying to pull her down. Edmund offered his hand, and she had no choice but to take it. Her Keds and the bottoms of her jean shorts were soaked.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you,” he said.

“I was just surprised.” Her teeth clicked as she shivered. Water poured from her shoes when she pulled them off. “I’m ready to go back to the cabins now.”

He turned off the music on the way back. The sound of the tires filled the silence. When they reached Shady Valley, Tina grabbed her pack and jumped out without saying goodbye.

But once she’d crossed the road, she glanced back over her shoulder. Edmund was watching her, his face expressionless behind the window glass.

Chapter Seven

Zandra stepped into Ben’s cabin. He watched her expectantly, but she took a moment to pause, breathing in to slow her heart beat.

“How’s Penny doing?” Ben asked.

“She’s talking to Anderson. He banished me, too.”

“So it wasn’t just me?” A slight smirk crossed his face, then vanished. “Anderson didn’t want you to read her?”

“He was afraid of overwhelming her. She’s in shock right now. Whatever she saw in that room, it was intense.”

“But what the hell happened, Z? The trails—and then the polt—” Ben shook his head. “It all happened so fast. I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I.”

In her memory, Zandra tried yet again to follow the chain of events. They’d been inside the kitchen at Demler Mansion, following the spirit trail they’d thought could be Edmund Demler. The ghost’s memories had started taking over Penny’s mind, and Zandra had helped her focus. When they touched, Zandra had seen the images—a teenage boy wearing headphones, a young woman with red hair. The words “Edmund, wait” had repeated inside Penny’s—and then Zandra’s—head.

But shortly after they broke contact, the poltergeist attacked.

The lights had gone out. There’d been several minutes of pure chaos, when all of them got separated. Zandra had found her way to the dining room. But then she’d felt Penny’s terror coming from that tiny room beyond the pantry.

By the time Zandra and Ben got to her, Penny had barely been conscious. Zandra had brushed Penny’s skin only briefly, and saw nothing but swirling water and silver light.

Anderson had carried Penny out of Demler Mansion, and Ben had run back to the cabins to get his car. They’d driven her the short distance back here. Penny’s aura had been so bright with energy that it was blinding. Zandra could still feel it all the way from next door.

Ben raked his fingers into his hair. “How could I have missed that polt?”

“We all missed it.”

“But I’m the tracker. I should’ve seen it coming.” He sank down into the chair. His sweater had torn at the shoulder, and a thin line of red oozed from a cut.

“You’re bleeding.” Zandra grabbed a tissue from a box on his nightstand. Ben flinched away from her before she could touch him.

“You’re that scared of me stealing your brainwaves?” she asked.

“Z—”

“No, it’s fine. You’re not the first.”

He took the tissue from her fingertips. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“The polt just sprang out at us,” he said, as if their previous conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “I think it was the girl—that other trail that I sensed near the kitchen. But that burst of energy, no warning? She came out of nowhere. I thought the male entity was the dominant one.”

“Oh, he was. No question.”

Demler, she thought. Edmund Demler. Both she and Ben were avoiding saying the name out loud, like they could somehow summon him here. But that was a horror movie plot; real ghosts didn’t work that way.

“Were the two ghosts working together?” Ben asked. “Luring us there?”

“I didn’t sense any awareness from the polt. Maybe it’s something about the three of us together—you, me, and Penny. You know how mediums can play off of one another.” It was like a chemical reaction, and any small variation could make an outsized difference.

“I think it’s because of Penny,” Ben whispered. “I saw how the trails interacted with her. I don’t think it’s something she can control. I know you tried to help her, but what if she’s not ready for—”

Anderson knocked on the door, then opened it. Ben stepped back, hands on his hips, giving out so many guilt and anxiety-ridden vibes that Anderson couldn’t fail to pick up on it.

“How is she?” Zandra asked.

“Well. She asked for a moment alone.” Anderson closed the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his blazer. Like the rest of them, he’d taken off his vest. But as usual, he managed to look fresh and polished despite their hasty retreat.

“I’m going to spend some time reviewing the data and body cam recordings tonight,” Anderson said, “but I’d like to hear what you two think happened. Your vests went out in the same moment.”

“The entity took me by surprise,” Ben said. “I should’ve seen it coming sooner.” He recounted their minutes inside the kitchen. He was more defensive with Anderson than he’d been with her, but he wasn’t making excuses.

“So we’ve confirmed there’s more than one entity in the house,” Anderson said. “Edmund Demler, and one or more of his victims. Penny says he attacked her.”

Zandra swore. “I was afraid of that. What did he do?”

“Showed her some bad memories, but she can’t recall most of them.” Anderson glanced in the direction of Penny’s cabin.

Water and silver light, Zandra thought. And cold—Penny had felt so cold when Zandra touched her. Not her body, but her aura itself.

“We’ve established that Demler is in the house, and that he’s indeed dangerous, though we can’t be sure yet if he caused Hannah’s injuries,” Anderson said. “That’s enough to warrant moving on to witness interviews. I want all the information we can get before we approach the house again.” With ghosts, info is ammo—one of Anderson’s common refrains. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you at the lodge at seven. Vera said she makes an excellent spiced tea.”

* * *

Zandra knocked with her elbow on the door. “Penny? It’s Z.”

“Come in.”

“Actually, I could use a hand.”

The door cracked open, and Penny appeared. Zandra held out a mug of hot cocoa. “It’s instant, but better than nothing, right?”

“Thanks.” Penny took the mug. Zandra followed her inside and shut the door.

Penny was about to take a sip, but Zandra said, “Hold on.” She set her own mug on the dresser and pulled a can of whipped cream from her coat pocket. “Yes?”

“Very much yes,” Penny said, holding out her cup. “Please.”

Zandra dressed up both their cocoas. Penny sat on her bed. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and her mood was hesitant. Unsure.

“If Anderson sent you to check on me…”

“I sent myself. I thought you might want some company?” Zandra took a sip of cocoa and wiped her lip. “I certainly did after my first big assignment. A poltergeist threw me straight out of a fourth-story window. Luckily, I landed on a balcony.”

Penny’s eyebrows shot up.

“May I?” Zandra asked, pointing at the chair. She sat after Penny nodded. “I can’t complain, though. My last partner once spent a solid twenty-four hours convinced she was a Cornish gold miner who’d died visiting a brothel. I couldn’t understand a word she said, her accent was so strong, but her filthy hand gestures were self-explanatory.”

That made Penny snicker. “Thanks for this. I needed it.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?” Zandra asked softly. “When you were in that room with the ghost?”

Penny suppressed a shudder. “He was there. Demler. It was…” She shook her head. “Frightening, even though I’ve faced plenty of ghosts. Even conscious ones. I’ve been overwhelmed by memories before, too. But this time, it felt intentional. Personal. Like he wanted to scare me.”

“What did you see?”

She took a long pull of her drink, closing her eyes. “There was a rush of images all at once—so much they didn’t even make sense—and then everything turned white inside my mind. Next thing I remember is you and Ben, pulling me up off the floor. Why would the ghost go after me?”

“I don’t know,” Zandra said. “None of us were ready tonight, and I’m sorry for that. The ghost struck out, and all three of us got separated from one another. I think you did really well under the circumstances.”

“Really? Even though you all had to carry me out of there?” Penny laughed, like this was a light-hearted conversation, but her aura told a different story. It wasn’t a visible ring around her; auras never appeared to Zandra so literally. Instead, she sensed the energy the same way that she could feel the wind shifting or a change in air pressure with a coming storm. It was a combination of touch, scent, and something indefinable. She simply knew.

Penny needed to feel safe. The experience inside Demler Mansion had rattled her.

“It’s always a tricky transition,” Zandra said, “learning to work with other para-sensitives. A decade in, and I’m still sorting out that part myself. And Ben? He acts tough, but he’s going through a rough patch. But Anderson has confidence in this team, and so do I. Despite the hiccup tonight.”

Penny tipped her mug back, then set it on the floor. “I know you read people. But what does that entail, exactly?”

“Am I reading your mind right now, you mean?”

Penny’s eyes widened, and Zandra laughed. “I can’t open up your brain and root around inside.” She considered how to explain. Zandra wanted to be honest, of course, but she also didn’t want to give Penny fresh reasons to dislike or avoid her.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now, Zandra thought. But each new rejection still hurt, though perhaps not as much as the first.

For the last seventeen years of Zandra’s life, she’d been either training to be an agent with the Mercury Group, or serving as one. Yet unlike Ben, she came from a family that had no experience with anything supernatural.

She’d grown up in Denver, born to a family of transplanted Texans. Her parents had gone two-stepping at the Grizzly Rose every Friday night, and she’d loved hearing her mom tell stories in her soft drawl. Z’s parents called her “unusually intuitive,” and she made friends easily because she always knew the right things to say to different kinds of people. She was endlessly adaptable, whether she was visiting relatives in Dallas or navigating the city bus on her way to school. But when she turned twelve, the intuition became sharper and brighter. It was like she’d suddenly developed an extra sense. A new set of eyes had opened in her mind; she could feel the physical touch of abstract things like boredom and curiosity. These sensations were so new that she didn’t know how to hide them.

She started speaking her mother’s thoughts out loud. Anticipating the anxieties that her father tried to hide.

They made appointments with child psychologists, who were just as unnerved by Zandra’s “intuition.” Friends didn’t want to spend time with her anymore, and teachers found reasons to send her to detention. Her suburban parents, who’d rarely attended their Methodist church except on holidays, sought out faith healers and new age mystics, hoping they could provide answers. Luckily, one of the healers sometimes referred cases to a man named Anderson Green.

When Anderson came to Zandra’s house the first time, she was only thirteen years old. He provided answers that no one had been able to before. But her parents weren’t reassured. Instead, they asked if Anderson didn’t know some school or community that could better handle their daughter’s “development.”

But the worst irony? While she’d felt loved and cared-for by her foster family—and by Anderson himself, who was the central father figure in her life—she still didn’t feel accepted. Para-sensitives found her creepy, too. Especially when it turned out that she could read her fellow para-sensitives better than anyone else.

“My partner just retired,” Zandra said to Penny. “I was with her for over ten years, almost since I started as an agent out of high school.” Younger than most people began with the Mercury Group. Anderson had tried matching her with a few potential partners, who all protested they couldn’t handle it. Then Janice volunteered. If Z can tell me what I’m thinking, I’d appreciate it, Janice had said. Because half the time I don’t know.

“She understood me,” Zandra explained. “I get a general sense of someone’s emotions when I’m near, especially if they’re feeling stressed. But I need physical contact to really see a person’s memories or thoughts, and even then, I can only reach dominant ones. Thoughts that are fresh or especially significant in someone’s mind. Plus, it sometimes gives me a beast of a headache.”

“Can you read ghosts, too?”

“I can’t read them as easily as I do the living. But I sense their energy when they’re near, especially if the ghost is sentient. I felt Edmund’s presence at Demler Mansion today. His anger. But not much more.”

Penny shuddered. “Just when I think I know how ghosts work, something new happens. Last month I actually woke up a ghost to help me save a woman’s life, and I thought that was the strangest thing I’d ever done.”

“You woke a ghost? Made it sentient?” And yet Penny had claimed to have no training. “But how?”

“It’s such a long story, and not really that important right now. But I’m just thinking it would’ve been nice to have a partner there beside me. Sometimes, when I’m really deep inside a ghost’s memories, I don’t know if I’ll make it back. That’s probably what I’m most afraid of—losing myself.” She pulled at a fraying thread on the quilt.

Zandra scooped up a bit of whipped cream with her finger. “For Janice, I provided clarity when she struggled to understand a haunting. Helping her sort out her thoughts, in a way. And when she channeled an entity, I made sure she didn’t get overwhelmed by the ghost’s thoughts. I don’t visually experience the dead on my own, but I still went through everything that Janice did. I saw what she saw. I was able to blunt the effects so she could focus more clearly.”

“Like you did for me today?”

Zandra shrugged. “I tried. It’s harder when we don’t know each other well.”

Over the years, Zandra and her partner learned to work together seamlessly, so much that she swore Janice could read her, too. But decades of working as an investigator took their toll. Janice was off living in Key West now, and Zandra had to start all over with a new partner who didn’t even trust her.

“But that’s why things are a little…unsettled with Ben and me,” Zandra explained. “And now you’re thrown into the mix. We’re all trying to figure one another out.”

“Ben doesn’t like me.”

Zandra laughed. “He doesn’t really like me either. He’s had his own difficulties lately with losing a partner, and he thinks I’m Anderson’s spy. I would never do that. Nor would Anderson ask me to.”

Penny picked up the mug, warming her hands around it. “So you trust Anderson?”

“Yes.” Zandra spoke without any hesitation. “Even if I don’t always like him.”

Penny was quiet for a bit, staring into her cocoa and thinking. Her aura mellowed, like waves gentling after a storm has passed.

“Have you ever wanted to get rid of your ability altogether?” Penny asked. “Just be…normal?”

Back when Zandra was younger, she’d wished for that. But now, she couldn’t imagine her life without her sensitivity. “Even if that were possible, I wouldn’t be myself.”

“Why wouldn’t it be possible? It’s just a matter of control, isn’t it?”

Zandra bristled at what Penny might be implying—that Zandra could suppress her ability if she chose, and therefore being different at all was a “choice.” But Penny shook her head.

“I’m not saying anything about you,” Penny explained. “Not at all. I mean me. Anderson said if I didn’t learn how to control my ability, it would take over my life. That’s already happening. That’s why I’m here.”

“I thought you were here to join Mercury.”

“Only temporarily. For most of my life, I’ve wanted nothing to do with my ability. I tried to stay as far away from ghosts as possible. I failed—pretty spectacularly, in fact. Anderson came to me and offered to teach me control. In exchange, he asked me to work for him, but only as long as the training lasted. My gut reaction was to refuse. But I need help, and I don’t know where else to find it. So, here I am.” She gestured at the room.

Zandra wasn’t sure what to say. Anderson had given no impression of this being a temporary assignment. Had he seriously promised Penny that he could teach her perfect control in a matter of weeks?

Or had he let Penny simply believe what she wanted to believe?

“What is it?” Penny asked.

Zandra didn’t want to undermine her boss—and mentor—without asking for his side of this story first. “It just sounds like you want someone else’s life instead of your own. But what would you be giving up?”

Penny frowned. Stress flooded back into her. “I’m still going to try.”

“Then I hope it works for you. I really do.”

Zandra collected the empty mugs and said goodnight. That was another painful benefit of her sensitivity; she knew exactly when someone wanted her to leave.

Chapter Eight

After Zandra left, Penny changed into pajamas and crawled beneath the covers of her bed. Doors opened and closed. People moved around in their respective rooms. After another hour, everything was quiet, and she was alone with her thoughts.

She’d told Anderson and Zandra all she could about what she’d experienced inside Demler Mansion—how the ghost seemed intent on singling her out, scaring her. Most ghosts lingered because they’d left something unfinished during life. They didn’t hang around just to frighten people, despite the way hauntings were depicted in any number of movies.

Demler had wanted something else from her, too. That intuition nagged at her. But she couldn’t say what.

At least she and the rest of the team wouldn’t return to the mansion for the next few days. If she could learn more about Demler’s life, perhaps she’d know how to deal with his ghost the next time she faced him. She needed to think of him as a person instead of a monster—even if he’d done monstrous things.

Anxiety coiled in her stomach.

Outside, night birds trilled and insects chirped. The eaves creaked in the wind. All the same nighttime sounds as Ashton, the small town where she’d grown up. So different from Los Angeles, where car engines roared past her apartment and sirens wailed at all hours. Sometimes people screamed out on the street, upset about who-knew-what. During her first few weeks in California for college, she’d gone out on her balcony, trying to figure out why they were shouting. Once she even called the police. What if someone needed help? But there were never any explanations, and soon she started ignoring the sounds.

She’d taught herself to ignore the ghosts, too, when they crossed her path. She’d pretended not to hear their cries or feel their anguish. Because it was easier. Until the ghosts refused to stay quiet.

Her boyfriend Matthew thought she should use her ability to help others, and for the first time in her life, she was actively trying to do that. But if she could silence the ghosts forever, she’d take that option in a heartbeat. Zandra had suggested that Anderson’s “training” might not work at all, but Penny couldn’t accept that.

Does that make me selfish? she wondered.

She sat up, catching her own reflection in the mirror over the dresser. Her eyes darted quickly away. When she pondered her own choices lately, she didn’t always feel comfortable with the portrait that emerged.

There was a knock at her cabin door.

“Penny,” a voice whispered.

A cold chill raced down her skin.

“Zandra?” she asked.

But she hadn’t heard any footsteps. The wooden walkway was hollow beneath, and it thumped anytime someone crossed it.

She kicked off the covers and stood. A glance past her curtain didn’t tell her much. It was too dark to see who might be standing outside.

There was another knock.

More tingles raced along Penny’s spine. She flipped the latch and cracked open the door. Frigid air rolled in, but nobody stood outside.

“Hello?” She stepped out onto the walkway. The cabins were quiet, all the doors closed. No light shone from any windows, including the lodge.

Penny hadn’t sensed any kind of paranormal activity here at Shady Valley. Even now, there was no hum in the air that would suggest a ghostly presence.

Did I imagine it? she wondered.

She looked out across the surface of the lake, remembering the silver glow inside the mansion. How it had rushed at her. The sensation of cold, of anger. She took another step, staring into the dark.

There was something moving on the trail beside the lake. The pale figure of a woman.

Was that Vera, the woman who owned the cabins? Had Vera knocked on her door?

Unless it was in my head?

Penny groaned, rubbing her face. Maybe it didn’t matter. If someone had been outside her room, they were gone now.

She closed the door and went back to her bed. After debating a moment, she dialed Matthew’s number, hoping she wouldn’t be waking him. He picked up after the first ring.

“Hey, Penn.”

“Am I calling too late?”

“No such thing.”

Penny should’ve been used to the long-distance relationship routine. For the past few months, she’d been in Los Angeles working at her public relations agency while Matthew remained in Ashton, Colorado, their hometown. Yet right now, Matthew felt farther away than ever, even though Ashton was only about two hundred miles away.

“I miss you,” she said.

“Miss you, too. Did something happen?”

So he could hear it in her voice. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“How was the first day?” Matthew was trying to sound upbeat instead of anxious, but they knew each other too well.

“Strange. Overwhelming.” She told him about Crimson Falls, a little about Zandra and Ben. See, I’ve met more of the Mercury Group, she wanted to say. But she didn’t mention the tension between the other members of her team. She definitely didn’t want to discuss the ghost of Edmund Demler.

She’d known Matthew—and loved him—since they were kids, back when he was her brother’s best friend. Yet she’d been out of his life completely for six long years before they reconnected last summer.

That first sight of him in July, dusty-blond hair feathered by the wind, jeans hugging his body, tan work boots on his feet—the thought still made her chest tighten with longing. If everything were simple, if ghosts didn’t exist, then she’d want to be with Matthew right now. Snuggled against him in bed. Watching his blue eyes as he laughed, hearing his voice, low and husky in her ear. Matthew had been her first love, and she’d never wanted another man the way she still wanted him.

But her life was not simple. Her ability had always stood between them. Not because Matthew couldn’t accept her, ghosts and all—that had never been the problem. He claimed that he liked that she was different. But for Penny, her ghost sightings had always set her apart from everyone else. She’d gone all the way to California to get away from her reputation as “ghost girl.”

Matthew couldn’t really understand what it was like, being para-sensitive. Now that they were officially together, Matthew wanted her to move back permanently to Ashton, the place where her ability was strongest. Ashton was a terminal, a place where the barriers between the living and dead had worn thin. Instead of choosing either Ashton or L.A., she’d run off to Crimson Falls with Anderson.

But more than anything, Matthew had always wanted Penny to accept herself. That was something she’d never managed to do.

“Is the Christmas tree still standing?” she asked.

Matthew laughed. “Yeah, Crosby hasn’t succeeded in pulling it down yet. She almost got one of the ornaments though.”

“You put them up?”

“Eh, I needed something to distract me.”

Penny got up and wandered around the room as he recounted his day and their dog’s latest antics. The floorboards shifted quietly beneath her feet. She went to the window and flicked back the curtain, peering out again.

She still felt restless. She’d hoped that hearing Matthew’s voice would calm her, but instead she kept thinking of their disagreements. The current of disquiet in her stomach had only increased—moving from a simmer to a low boil.

There’s someone out there, she thought. I can feel it. Someone looking in at me.

And she wasn’t like Zandra. She had no talent for reading the living.

“Penny? You still there?”

“I’m sorry. I—”

A figure walked past in the open meadow, just beyond the cabins.

“Matthew, I’ve got to go.”

“Wait, Penn—”

She ended the call and put her phone in her pocket. The door made a tiny squeak when she opened it. Penny walked across the boardwalk, ducked below the railing, and stepped into the grass. The figure had disappeared into the trees.

This is a bad idea, she thought. I should go back. If there was a person sneaking around here…

She started to turn, but then the figure emerged from the trees. It was a man. He stopped in place when he saw her. It was too dark for her to see his face.

Then the figure stepped forward, and a light switched on. “Penny? Is that you?”

It was Ben.

“What’re you doing out here?” she demanded.

He strode toward her. The light came from his phone, which he held down at his side. Distorted shadows streaked across his face.

“Taking a walk. You have a problem with that?”

“Someone was knocking on my door. Saying my name. Then they took off. Was that you?”

His face wrinkled into a scowl. “Why would that be me? If I wanted to talk to you, I’d do it. You sure it wasn’t Z?”

Penny shook her head, backing off as he came nearer. His hair was damp, like he’d just showered, even though it had to be below freezing outside.

An electric hum rose in the air. She felt the presence—watching her, coiling up and ready to spring. “There’s a ghost here. I feel it.”

Ben’s eyes scanned the area. “I’m not picking up any trails.”

“I thought I might’ve seen someone a few minutes ago, down by the lake. A woman.”

“Okay…” He drew the word out. “We can check, if you like.”

“I would. Yeah.”

Penny went back for her coat. They walked along the path toward the lake. Wind rustled the dead leaves around their feet.

“Actually, I do see a spirit trail,” Ben said. “Huh. It’s really weak, though.”

The woman emerged from the trees several yards ahead.

“There,” Penny said, her voice thick. “That’s her.” She was young, maybe just a teenager. Her long, thin dress clung to her as if wet, and damp hair lay in clumps around her shoulders. She reached the lake and vanished.

Ben rushed forward, retracing the girl’s steps. “She came from over here.”

At first, they only found scrubby bushes and trees. But then a few rough-hewn timbers appeared on the ground, some still nailed together and joined at the corners. “There was a building here,” Ben said.

“Another cabin?”

“Seems too small.” He nudged at the timbers with his boot. “The spirit trail goes through here. Like I said though, it’s weak.”

“I’m not getting anything,” Penny said. “No images or memories.”

“Might not even be related to the haunting at Demler Mansion. It could be much older.”

“But the girl I saw—she looked wet. She was going toward the lake. Maybe she drowned?”

“One of the victims? Yeah, it’s possible. I’m surprised you picked up on her from so far away.”

They went back toward the cabins. As they neared the buildings, a sheen of silver passed across one of the darkened windows.

Penny stopped, her hand shooting out to grab Ben’s elbow. “Did you see that? In the window?”

“I don’t think so. What did it look like?”

Had it been a reflection? She glanced back, but saw no light source behind them.

“Silver,” she muttered. Like the hazy clouds of light inside Demler Mansion.

“You should go back to your room,” Ben said slowly. “You’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine. I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on. We found a weak trail, but it’s nothing to worry about. Look, you’re new to this. It’s stressful. You went through a lot at the house today.”

“You’re telling me I’m imagining things?” But am I? she asked herself. Am I?

Ben stepped in front of her, his large form blocking her view of the buildings. “The ghost went after you, got you alone. Messed with your head. But the effect will wear off.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he could’ve been right. Zandra had described her old partner forgetting her own identity for a short while. Penny herself had been overpowered by a supernatural presence before, her mind even tricked by a manipulative ghost.

But Penny hadn’t gotten any memories from the ghostly girl by the lake. And she’d left Demler Mansion hours ago.

“Go to bed,” Ben said. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

He waited in front of his cabin until she returned to hers.

She spent a few minutes texting with Matthew, apologizing for her sudden departure from their call earlier. A spirit trail outside, she wrote, and then had to explain what that meant. Though she hardly knew herself; Ben had described the trails as streaks of color in the air, but Penny didn’t experience ghosts that way.

For a minute, she tried to imagine herself as a full-time Mercury agent, like Ben and Zandra. Could she really choose that life, day after day?

She remembered being trapped with Demler’s ghost in that tiny room. His mocking laughter, the terrible memories she’d forced into her head until the images blurred together. The water. The hands, pressing into her back.

The cabin room was dark around her. The air thin, cold. Yet she felt eyes on her, watching. Something creaked.

Penny pulled the covers over her head. It was a long time before she could sleep.

Chapter Nine

In the morning, Zandra knocked on Penny’s door just before seven.

Penny answered, her boots still untied. “Sorry, am I late? I thought we were meeting in the lodge.” She bent down to tie her laces.

Zandra leaned against the doorframe. “No worries. Anderson asked me to come by.” She’d woken to a text laying out a new schedule, with no room for discussion. Would you handle telling Penny? he’d asked, as if she could’ve said no.

“How are you feeling?”

Penny hesitated only a moment. “Better. I got some rest.” Yet her aura wasn’t so steady.

“But?” Zandra prompted.

Penny stood, a sheepish look on her face. “Something strange happened last night. I thought Ben might’ve told you?”

“He didn’t say a word. What happened?”

“I saw a ghost out by the lake. A teenage girl, maybe one of Demler’s victims. And then…” She was clearly about to say more, but shook her head instead. “Ben and I argued a little. But I was really tired. It’s nothing.”

“You sure? You want me to talk to him?”

Penny grabbed her coat. “No, not necessary. I’m a big girl, I’ll handle it. But maybe I should give him a little space today.”

“Unfortunately, that might not be possible.” Zandra grimaced. “Anderson wanted me to let you know—there’s been a change of plans.”

* * *

Anderson’s Jeep Wagoneer sped south down the highway. “You’re too quiet, Z,” he said. “You’re stewing about something. Is it Penny, or Ben?”

Do I have to pick just one? Zandra thought.

“At the moment, it’s Penny.”

She rested her elbow against the passenger door. The huge SUV drove so smoothly, it felt like they were hardly moving. Scenery glided past, the purple-hued mountains, lovely enough they could’ve been painted onto the sky. Zandra had lived in Colorado most of her life, and her work assignments rotated throughout the western United States, but she still wasn’t tired of those views.

“I talked to Penny for a while last night,” Zandra said. “She’s ambivalent about her role on the team.”

“She’s not committed to Mercury, true. That concerns you?”

“Not because I’m worried about us. She seems to think you’re going to train her to stop seeing ghosts, and then she’ll ride off back to her regular life. Cue the sunset.”

“I’m confident that I’ll convince her she’s better off with us than on her own. I didn’t lie—much—but I said what I had to in order to get her here.”

“But if she doesn’t have all the information, it’s not really her choice.”

“The Mercury Group is exactly what Penny needs, even if she doesn’t quite know it yet. She’s meant to use her talent, not suppress it, and we can help her do that. With time—and yes, training—she’ll learn to accept her calling.”

Zandra closed her eyes, biting down on her fury. “As a medium, she’s strong. Maybe stronger than any I’ve met in a long time.” Not since Janice, Zandra’s now-retired partner. “But as a twenty-four-year-old who’s trying to figure herself out? Penny’s fragile. She’s confused.”

Zandra had felt the undercurrent of panic inside of Penny just that morning, though she’d seemed outwardly cheerful. Penny was on the verge of a big decision, but she couldn’t accept any of the obvious choices. Anderson was probably right that training with the Mercury Group would help her. But she was in an impressionable state. For a medium, that could be disastrous.

Anderson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “I’m aware of Penny’s mental state, Z. That’s why I’ve backed us off of Demler Mansion for the next few days. We’ll understand the case far better when we return.”

“But why did you stick her with Ben today?” Zandra asked. “He hasn’t had any time to adjust to being my partner yet, and you’re already splitting us up.”

“Who said you’re his new partner?”

Her head whipped to face him, eyes widening.

“He might be just as good a fit with Penny,” Anderson said. “I want to see how they work together.”

“But…” She’d just assumed that Ben was her partner because Anderson assigned them both to this case. “What about me?”

Anderson gave her his “dad” smile. Kind, a bit indulgent. It annoyed her. “Isn’t it time you thought bigger than just being a field agent? Have you thought about facilitation?”

She was speechless. When she found her voice, she said, “I like being in the field.” But that wasn’t really an answer. She’d thought, once or twice, about whether she’d make a good handler—someone like Anderson, who managed teams of mediums, gave out assignments. Her ability to read people would be an asset. She’d dismissed the idea because she’d been partnered with Janice, and they got along so well.

But now…

There would be rigorous testing—of both her psychological state and her academic knowledge of parapsychology. Multiple rounds of interviews. Few people ever made it to that level within Mercury. Especially not at so young an age—Zandra had just turned thirty. But with Anderson on her side, she’d have a shot.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Think about it. But not for too long. Interviewing starts next month, and I already put your name in.”

She sat back against her seat, watching trees fly past.

* * *

Students streamed out of the building, chatting and looking at their phones. Zandra glanced up at the stone facade. Whenever she stepped onto a college campus, she was surprised to see how much the buildings resembled those in the movies. She’d skipped those formative experiences and gone straight to work instead. But sometimes she wondered what she’d missed.

A guy with shoulder-length hair jogged down the steps. Ross—friend of Hannah Eckert, maker of the video inside Demler Mansion.

Anderson fell into pace beside him. “Ross Trujio, we’d like to have a word,” Anderson said.

Ross did a double-take, his hands tensing on the straps of his backpack. “Why? Who are you?”

“Anderson Green and Zandra Mendes, Mercury Group. We’d like to discuss what happened last month in Crimson Falls.”

One of Ross’s classmates stopped, eying them. “You okay, man?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s nothing.” His energy had flared when he saw them, and now he was grasping for some way to get out of this. The kid was terrified. Of what, Zandra couldn’t yet tell.

They walked with Ross as he crossed the courtyard, away from the flow of students.

“I already told that sheriff what happened. I gave him the video, and he said that was the end of it. I wasn’t going to get in trouble.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Anderson said. “But we do need your help clarifying a few things.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” His panic increased. He’s been having nightmares, she realized. He’s exhausted.

“We understand that,” Zandra said gently. “It must’ve been a shock, what you went through. Especially with what happened to Hannah.”

Another flare of energy—guilt. “I wasn’t even in that room.”

“You probably know more than you realize. Let’s find a sunny spot to sit down. Maybe by that fountain I saw?” She pointed behind them with her thumb.

She felt his indecision. Zandra leaned closer. “We’ve seen the video.”

“But you don’t really know.” He took a step away.

“Then tell me. Ross, whatever’s bothering you, we can help.”

His eyes locked with hers. His aura opened up, just a bit. “I want to believe you,” he murmured. “But we can’t talk here. I know a better place.”

Ross was quiet as they walked across the courtyard, then went into a different building. He stopped in the light-filled lobby, where benches and tables sat by a huge wall of windows. They could see out onto the quad and watch the students studying and laughing, their cheeks pink in the cold. But the building lobby was deserted.

Ross sat on a bench. Anderson and Zandra took the table beside him, angling their chairs to face him.

“Have you seen things like that before?” he asked Zandra. “In the video. The silvery…whatever it was, hanging in the air in that room?”

It was Anderson who answered. “That was a ghost,” he said in his smooth baritone. “We work for a group that investigates paranormal occurrences.”

Ross pulled at the edge of his sweatshirt. “I didn’t think anyone would believe me and Kacey about the things we saw. But the sheriff seemed to. He said that he wouldn’t prosecute us for trespassing if I turned over the video.”

“Would you have posted it online?” Anderson asked.

“I mean…” Ross looked at the window, where someone ran by to catch a frisbee. “Maybe. I don’t know. It probably would’ve gotten a lot of views.” He shook his head like he wanted to rid himself of the temptation. “I feel really bad about what happened to Hannah. Could this help her? Whatever you’re investigating?”

“It’s possible,” Anderson said.

Ross’s question was far more complicated than Anderson was letting on. But she didn’t elaborate on Anderson’s response.

Zandra crossed her legs, resting her hands in her lap. “How did you decide to explore Demler Mansion?”

Ross hesitated. He was torn between his need to run—to escape from whatever he’d seen in that house—and his desire for answers.

“We can help you understand what you experienced,” Zandra said. “But first, you have to tell us how it began.”

“I met Hannah through a friend who went to high school with her. She’s kind of a free spirit, not interested in school right now. But we both like urbexing—that’s urban exploring. We visit abandoned buildings and take pictures. Hannah’s the one who wanted to visit the Demler place. I thought it would be great for my YouTube channel because of the serial killer angle. She knew everything about it, though. The names of the girls he killed, dates.”

“Did Hannah feel some special connection to the Demler case? A personal connection?”

“I don’t know. If she did, she didn’t explain it to me.”

Zandra took out her phone. She already had the file cued up. When she turned the screen to Ross, he grimaced at seeing the image—the first shot of the video he’d made at Demler Mansion.

He didn’t want to watch it. She decided to go with the stills instead. If they pressed him too hard, he might leave.

“What brought you to this room in the house that night?” she asked.

Ross swallowed. “I was looking for the room where Edmund Demler lived.”

Zandra pointed at the still image on the screen. “So you went upstairs. Why did you think this would be Edmund’s room?”

“There was some fire damage. And it was, like, this feeling. Like I could imagine him in my head.” Ross looked up, as if just now realizing the strangeness of what he’d said.

Zandra moved the video forward by several minutes, to the point where Ross turned the camera on himself. She had watched the video a dozen times, so she had the thing memorized. “You mention that the room is cold. You say, ‘There’s a bad feeling here.’ What did you mean by that?”

“I was probably just trying to keep things exciting. For my subscribers.” Ross squinted, eyes again fixed on the view of the quad through the window. “But I do remember feeling off. Like, I’d really wanted to get there, but once I was inside, I got a little nauseous. My head felt heavy. But I thought it was just the stories about Demler.”

Anderson shifted in his seat. Zandra waited for him to cut in, but he stayed quiet.

She moved the video forward again. “And here? What’s happening now?” She’d stopped on a shot of the bright, silvery shape looming into the camera. It was like the glow around a flashlight, but without any visible source creating it.

“That’s when…” Ross closed his eyes. “Um. I saw that light coming at me. I dropped the camera.”

“What happened after the video ended?”

“I ran to go find the girls. Kacey was screaming. There was a hole in the floor.”

He paused, thinking of something. Remembering. There was definitely more.

“And the silver light?” Zandra prompted. “Did it follow you?”

Ross shot up suddenly. “I need to get to my next class. I’ve told you all I know.” He tried to skirt around them and head for the exit. But Zandra stepped into his path.

“You’re safe,” she said in her best calming voice. “Whatever you’re remembering, I know it’s frightening, but it can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Like hell it can’t,” he whispered.

She lowered her voice so even Anderson wouldn’t hear. “Show me what you saw in the house, and I can take the images away.”

He didn’t understand. He was so scared he couldn’t respond, or even ask her to explain. But she felt his submission. Help me, his aura said. Please. I don’t want to see it anymore.

If she didn’t act now, his fear would win out. He would run.

With her free hand, she touched his cheek and stared into his eyes, concentrating. She held onto his gaze as her other sense delved deeper into his mind.

A cloud of silver hovered in a dark room. There was a crash, so loud that the floor vibrated. Then the silver thing rushed forward until the world turned bright and cold.

A new room appeared. A bed with tangled sheets. A chair, toppled over. A young man with buzzed, dark hair lay on the carpet, trying to crawl. There was something wrong with him. His eyes bulged, and his breaths were labored. Snot dripped from his nose. His mouth hung slack.

A dark gray haze grew in the air. The smell of smoke. Fire licked at the corners of the room.

This is what they did to me, a voice hissed.

The flames crept closer. It was impossible to breathe. He felt no physical pain. Yet his mind stayed alert, in a different sort of agony, until the very end.

Ross shook in her grip. “What are you doing?” he said, each word a rough staccato.

She released her mental hold on him. He fell backward onto a chair, then scrambled upright.

Zandra held out her hands. “Ross, stay calm. Let me explain.”

“Get away from me!” He bolted from the room.

Inwardly, she cursed. That hadn’t gone the way she intended.

“Did you get it?” Anderson asked.

“Yes.” Pain started between her eyes, then spread rapidly across her forehead and down her spine. The sunlight through the windows intensified until it was unbearable. She had to close her eyes. But hopefully Ross would sleep tonight.

“And you couldn’t just leave the memory there?”

She could’ve read the memory without stripping it. But Ross had asked for her help. What was she supposed to do? “The poor kid was having nightmares. Save the lecture and get me back to the car, before I pass out.”

* * *

For a while, Zandra sat in the passenger seat of the car with her sunglasses on. The back of her hand pressed to her forehead; the coolness of her skin kept the nausea at bay. But the rest of her wanted to be warm. She zipped up her coat.

Anderson had gone to grab them drinks. She heard the car door open. “I’ve got one lemon iced tea Snapple here,” he said, placing the drink in her hand. “Real sugar, not diet.”

“You know me so well.” She twisted the cap and sipped her drink, sighing as the cold liquid hit the roof of her mouth.

“You out for the day? I can carry on myself if you need to rest.”

“No, it’s not too bad.” Sometimes she ended up bent over a toilet bowl for hours after stripping a memory. It wasn’t something she did often. “I just hope Ross is okay,” she said. “I had to rush it. He was about to run.”

“But shouldn’t you have given him all the information?” Anderson asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “So he’d have a real choice? Or does that only apply to me?”

She glared at him. “The two situations are nothing alike. Ross needed my help.”

Under ideal circumstances, she would’ve had time to explain the process to him, so it wouldn’t have been so jarring. From Ross’s perspective, she’d touched him and his mind had gone blank. He wouldn’t remember the vision of the fire, or Demler’s ghostly voice—that was the whole point. Ross only sensed that something was missing from his mind.

Anderson waved away her protest. “He’s not your responsibility, anyway. He’s the one who trespassed at Demler Mansion.

“You saying I’m a soft touch?”

“Please tell me you got something worthwhile out of it.”

In other words, he was annoyed that she’d de-railed his schedule. She sat fully upright. “It’s worth it.”

Her boss started the car. “I’m listening.”

She described the vision of the fire. “I saw Edmund dying. It was definitely him—fully conscious until the smoke and heat got to be too much.” Through Ross’s memory, she had felt Edmund’s terror and desperation as he died. Nausea flared again in her stomach, and she took a sip of her lemon tea. “No wonder Ross was terrified. He’d never experienced anything like that before. He’s not para-sensitive.”

“But he transferred that memory from Edmund’s ghost?”

Non-sensitives could pick up on the memories of the dead, but it wasn’t easy. The memory had to be full of extremely heightened emotion, and Edmund’s death scene had been traumatic. But that level of detail?

“I can’t explain it,” Zandra said.

“Interesting. But Hannah and Kacey may have seen something different next door.” Anderson smoothed a hand over his goatee. “We know there’s more than one entity in the house. So perhaps Hannah was influenced by one ghost, Ross by another.”

Zandra thought of Penny’s experience in the house yesterday. Penny had been convinced that she met Demler’s ghost in that pantry room, not the female poltergeist. But if so, why had Demler shown Penny his victim’s memory of the drowning, instead of the fire? Had it just been another way to frighten or even threaten a new target? Or did Demler have some other intention that they couldn’t yet see?

The problem was that Demler didn’t behave quite like any ghost Zandra had encountered before.

Heat now blew from the car’s air vents. Anderson drove away from the curb. They cruised down the wide boulevard, leaving the university campus behind.

“Are we meeting with Kacey Eckert next?” Zandra asked. “She’ll give us another perspective on what happened at the house.”

“Still waiting to hear back. But I called up a former member of the sheriff’s department who worked the original case. He was eager to talk to us.”

“Even when he found out we’re psychics and mediums?” Zandra asked. When it came to law enforcement, Anderson never concealed that their team dealt in the paranormal. Fewer angry confrontations and legal complaints that way.

But Anderson grinned. “Especially then.”

Zandra thought again of Hannah. The girl was lying in a hospital bed right now, in a coma. Ross had asked, Could this help her? Whatever you’re investigating?

“What about Hannah? If I could see her, maybe…”

“We don’t even know if it would make a difference,” he said.

“Ross had a transferred memory from Demler. The kid was still having nightmares a month later. But if Hannah saw something even worse? Combined with her head injuries, it could explain—”

The brakes screeched as Anderson stopped abruptly. Zandra fell forward against her seatbelt, her drink nearly spilling. They’d almost run a red light.

“You know that I’m not averse to taking risks,” Anderson said carefully. “But not that one. Not with you.”

It was one thing to extract a memory from Ross—he’d been awake, able to show her the exact images that were plaguing him. But Hannah was in a coma. If Zandra went searching inside Hannah’s deeply unconscious mind, she might not be able to find her way out.

She still wanted to help. But she wasn’t going to convince Anderson—certainly not right now. She’d worry about that later.

The light turned green. Anderson accelerated. “There was something else about the memory I took from Ross,” Zandra said. “The police claimed that Edmund Demler chose to die rather than face responsibility for what he’d done, right?”

“Right.”

“But Demler seemed drugged in those final moments, and not by choice. By what or whom, I don’t know.”

“Now that is surprising. What do you think it means?”

A voice had spoken in Ross’s mind: This is what they did to me. That could’ve been a predatory killer’s attempt to deflect blame. But in the memory, Edmund truly felt shocked.

Zandra screwed the top back onto her drink. Her nausea had returned, but the tea wasn’t helping.

“I don’t think Edmund set that fire.”

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

As Tina walked toward the cabins, she felt a dozen pairs of eyes staring at her. Everyone seemed to be out of their rooms. Some sat on the wooden walkway, legs dangling over the edge. Others milled around on the grass.

Tina joined her two roommates, Laurie and Jasmine. “What’s going on?” Tina whispered, because everyone else was talking in hushed tones.

Laurie’s jaw worked on a piece of gum. “The cops were looking for you.”

“What?”

“They’re questioning everybody who knew Nicki,” Jasmine explained. “We were the first ones ’cause she shared our cabin. And nobody could find you. Diane was pissed.” She smiled slightly, like she was enjoying the drama. Like Nicki wasn’t dead right now in a morgue somewhere.

Tina cursed to herself.

Diane came out of the lodge. She spotted Tina immediately and rushed over. “Where in the world have you been all afternoon?”

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Tina’s wrist and pulled her toward the lodge. “Do you know how worried we’ve been? I sent Grant down to the lake to make sure…” Diane shook off the thought. “Where were you?”

“Walking around. I needed to get away.”

Diane frowned at her, but she looked more concerned than angry. She seemed like she might come in for a hug, but instead she squeezed Tina’s shoulders. “I know this is hard. We just have to get through this part, and then it’ll be over. You understand?”

Tina nodded, even though she didn’t understand anything about what was happening.

A few minutes later, Diane ushered her into the lodge sitting room. A man and woman sat in chairs from the dining hall, both in the khaki uniforms of sheriff’s deputies. The woman’s hair was pulled into a severe bun, her face devoid of makeup. The guy was stocky, bald-headed, with a neatly trimmed mustache.

“Tina Freeman? Have a seat.” The man gestured at a couch, which they’d pulled to face them. “I’m Undersheriff Mason. This is Deputy Royal.” He pointed at the woman. “We’re here to investigate Nicki Ember’s death.”

“Okay.” Tina sunk into the cushions. How many times had she sat on this very couch with Nicki, joking and laughing, watching afternoon reruns of M.A.S.H. or The Golden Girls? I’m totally a Blanche, Nicki had said. But I can’t decide if you’re a Rose or a Dorothy.

“We hear that you were Nicki’s best friend,” Deputy Royal said, smiling sympathetically. “I’m sure today’s been rough for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You took a walk this afternoon?”

Diane must’ve told them. “Yeah. I just needed to get away. After they…found Nicki.”

Royal nodded, glancing at her notebook. “I’d have done the same, if it were my best friend. I’m sorry for your loss, Tina. See, the Undersheriff and I, we just want to figure out why this happened. Did Nicki ever mention feeling sad to you? Depressed?”

Tina looked at her hands. “She talked about it. She’d had a hard time around her freshman year of high school.”

Royal was nodding, like she already knew. “Did she still suffer from depression, to your knowledge?”

Tina thought. Nicki had always had ups and downs. Some days she had so much energy she physically bounced their bunk, talking fast about all the things she wanted to do. Other days, she was quiet and sad. Those were the days she said she was thinking of home.

“I’m not sure. But maybe.”

Royal leaned in. “Did she ever try to hurt herself?”

When I woke up, Nicki had said, the bathtub was covered in blood. “Before she got to Shady Valley,” Tina choked out.

“What about the last time you saw her,” Undersheriff Mason said. “Was Nicki upset? Acting different?”

The last time. They’d fought the last time they saw one another. Tina wondered how much she should say. Were Nicki’s secrets now up for grabs if she was dead? Tina could just pass them around like trading cards?

Tina wondered how much they already knew. Had Jasmine or Laurie told them about the fight? “She left last Friday. Packed up and said she wasn’t coming back.” She knew this wasn’t exactly an answer. Nicki is gone, she thought. Nothing we say can change it.

But Tina knew she was really trying to protect herself. She didn’t want everyone to know what she’d done.

“Was Nicki upset?” Deputy Royal asked again, more emphasis on each word. Demanding an answer.

A tear hovered at the corner of Tina’s eye. She could feel it there. But she didn’t want to wipe it away. The stupid thing fell anyway, smearing down her cheek.

“We had a fight,” she said. “That was the last thing that happened on the last day I ever saw her—I yelled at her. I told her I never wanted to see her again. And I’m…sorry.”

“All right.” Deputy Royal picked up a box of Kleenex and held them out. The stack of tissues inside looked low, as if the box had been getting some use, and Tina felt a little less embarrassed. “Tell us what you fought about.”

Now was the really hard part. Their fight—when Tina got angry at Nicki for keeping secrets, even though Tina had done the same thing. Because I’m a terrible person, Tina thought. A hypocrite.

She started talking. “Nicki had been interested in some guy for a while. At first, she was so giddy about it. She wouldn’t tell me who he was, just that he was older, and that people would be scandalized or something. Like he was married, maybe? Or off limits for some reason? But then she stopped talking about him. I kept asking what happened, and finally she admitted that he broke things off with her. I said it was for the best, and she just went off. She accused me of being happy that she was sad.” Nicki had said worse than that. You’re just jealous, Teeny, but you don’t even know what you’re jealous of. Which stung more than Nicki could’ve realized. Tina had responded by saying, At least I’m not so screwed up I had to drop out of school. Which was really horrible and unfair. Nicki had told her it was episodes of depression that kept her from graduating.

It only got worse from there. That was the problem with best friends—they knew you so well, they could pick out all your worst faults. The things you hated about yourself and pretended that nobody else could see, because you couldn’t have made it through each day if you truly acknowledged that everybody saw those flaws, too.

Nicki had said, It’s not my fault I look the way I do, and you look the way you do.

So Tina had screamed at her to just leave. They weren’t best friends anymore, and she never wanted to see Nicki again. Go and die. See if I care.

That was the last thing Nicki ever heard her say.

“I told her to go. That’s why she packed up and left that night—me. It was my fault. All my fault.” Nicki must’ve walked out to the lake that night, and…didn’t want to come back out. Because her best friend said such awful things.

Deputy Royal patted her hand, holding out a fresh tissue. “Hey, that isn’t true. No matter what happened, you weren’t responsible for her death. These things are complicated, Tina. Depression is a very difficult thing, and it’s hard to understand. You should talk to a counselor about this, you know?”

Tina nodded, though she didn’t want to talk anymore to anyone. She wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep and wake up and find Nicki in the bunk above her, safe and sound.

But Undersheriff Mason was frowning like he had a lot more he wanted to say. “You mentioned a man that she was seeing. Any idea who he might be?”

Tina hiccuped. “Not really.”

Then a face appeared in her mind—Edmund driving the car, saying he and Nicki were friends.

“It could’ve been Edmund,” Tina said. “They hung out sometimes.” Even though he seemed too dour and strange for Nicki.

“Edmund,” Deputy Royal repeated. “You mean Demler?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She watched Royal and Mason glance at one another, faces stoic but communicating something behind their eyes. “Wait, you don’t think he could’ve hurt Nicki, right? I thought…He didn’t seem like…”

“You know him?” the undersheriff asked.

Tina paused before saying, “No.”

That wasn’t really a lie. Besides, she didn’t feel like explaining that she’d been driving around, alone, with Edmund just an hour ago. That had probably been a dumb thing to do.

Could that guy have really hurt Nicki? He’d been kind of weird. He’d talked about seeing his dead mother. He’d touched her hair.

But he drove me home when I asked, she thought. Even though he could’ve done something else.

“We’re just trying to find out everything we can. No need to jump to any conclusions.” Royal touched Tina’s arm reassuringly.

“I think we’re done here,” the undersheriff said. “You can go.”

Tina returned to her room and lay on her bunk. Nicki’s blanket was now gone, and her mattress lay bare. One of Nicki’s collages made from cut-up magazine pages still hung on the wall by a raggedy piece of tape.

Laurie and Jasmine weren’t back yet. Were they out having fun right now? Moving on like Nicki didn’t matter?

Tina grabbed her pillow and screamed into it, but that didn’t help. So she kicked at the bunk above her, cursing.

Something fell down on her head, and she nearly screamed.

It was a little notebook with flowers and hearts all over the cover. Tina recognized it—she’d seen Nicki holding it close to her nose, pen moving as she wrote. Tina flipped it open and found pages of writing. But she couldn’t read a single word. It looked like a foreign language, but she hadn’t thought Nicki spoke anything but English. And these words didn’t even look like words. Nicki had written everything in capital letters.

No, not a language, she realized. Nicki had imagined being a Bond girl, hadn’t she? A spy?

Nicki had written this notebook in code.

Chapter Ten

Penny and Ben hardly spoke on their way into town. She drummed her fingers against the door handle. Clearly, he wasn’t happy about being paired with her today. They were supposed to review the sheriff’s files and speak with locals here in town. Penny felt like the grown-ups were off on an important task, leaving the kids at home with busy work.

Ben stopped the car outside The Stagecoach Diner. “I thought we’d grab some breakfast.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” But she had to say something first. She couldn’t take the tension. “Ben, about last night—”

“What about it?”

“I just want to clear the air. Since we’re working together. You accused me of being over-dramatic, and I still don’t agree. But you were right, I was definitely tired. So—”

He cut her off. “Then consider the air cleared. We’re good.”

“Are you sure? Because you seem annoyed with me.”

“Believe it or not, Penny, my thoughts aren’t completely consumed with the subject of you.”

She got out of the car and slammed the door, gritting her teeth.

At the counter, Penny smiled broadly at the woman working the espresso machine. Diane, Sheriff Lofton’s aunt. Another member of the Demler family.

“Good morning,” Penny said, her voice a little too cheery. She was overcompensating for her frustration with Ben, but couldn’t help herself. “Nice to see you again.”

“What can I get you?” Diane was all business, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. But even that was an improvement over Ben’s icy demeanor.

“Double espresso please,” Penny said to Diane. “And a lemon poppyseed muffin.”

Ben walked up behind her and put his hand on the counter. “Make that two double espressos, and add an avocado and egg sandwich. No cheese.”

“You got it,” Diane said, entering their order on her computer.

Penny took out her credit card. “We’re investigating the incident at Demler Mansion last month. I was here with Sheriff Lofton yesterday about it? If you can take a break sometime this morning, we have a few questions for you.”

“I don’t have time to take breaks. I’ll call your order when it’s ready.” Diane turned toward the espresso machine.

“It won’t take long.”

Diane ignored her. She started up the milk steamer, which emitted a loud hiss.

“You messed that up,” Ben murmured in Penny’s ear.

“What do you mean? I wasn’t finished.”

“Find us a table. I’ll get the food, and then I’ll explain a few things about talking to witnesses.”

Penny grumbled, but she did what he said.

* * *

“You should’ve asked ‘when’ she was available, not ‘if.’” Ben said. “Don’t give them an out.”

Penny kept her voice low, in case other customers were eavesdropping. “But she doesn’t have to talk to us. We’re not the police.”

“Better to let them think we are. We have the sheriff’s blessing.”

“And he’s her nephew. She’ll know we can’t force her.” Penny thought it made far more sense to make a witness want to help them.

Ben stirred low-cal sweetener into his coffee. “From what I saw yesterday, it’s obvious that you’re an asset to the team. You’re a powerful medium, naturally talented. Maybe, once you’ve had more experience, you’ll be leading any team you’re on.” He’d said this begrudgingly, and Penny knew that a “but” was coming. “But I would’ve thought, since you’re still new at the moment, that you’d take a backseat and let me handle things.”

He was making it sound like she was the arrogant one. Penny downed her coffee and set the cup roughly on the table. “If you have some bigger problem with me, say it. But you can’t keep picking apart everything I do.”

“Can’t I?” He grinned like he was laughing at his own joke. Then he shook his head, sighing. “Fine, I’m sorry. I’m stressed too, okay? And it’s not your fault, it’s…a lot of other things. We just need to get through today until Z and Anderson come back. Z’s the one who’s best at this, anyway. She’s got a built-in lie detector. But we need at least something to show for our efforts. Let’s go talk to the sheriff. He’ll smooth the way for us with the other possible wits.”

Not likely, she thought. “I’m not giving up on Diane yet.”

Penny waited until the diner quieted down. No more customers were in line, and it looked like everyone had received their orders. Diane wiped down the counters and pulled the trash bag from the can. She disappeared into the back.

Penny jumped up and followed her through the diner’s back door.

In the alley, Diane tossed the trash bag into the dumpster. She jumped when she turned around and found Penny standing there.

“My goodness, you startled me.” She put a hand against her canvas apron. “Do you need something?”

“I’d like to ask you some questions about Edmund Demler. Vera Miller said he was your nephew.”

“Vera.” Diane rolled her eyes. “She won’t give up on those broken-down cabins. She cares more about the Demler legacy than any of the actual family. Because our legacy is—forgive me—shit. I really have nothing else to say.”

She tried to go around, so Penny shuffled sideways, blocking her path.

“Edmund’s ghost is still in that house. I saw him myself just yesterday.”

Diane’s eyes were pained. “I need to get back to work. Please.”

“I think Edmund is the reason that Hannah Eckert is in a coma right now—the girl who fell at Demler Mansion a month ago?”

“She should’ve stayed away. You all should’ve stayed away.”

Penny took a step toward her, holding her hands open, keeping her voice gentle. “Edmund is dangerous, and unless we get him to leave, he’ll hurt someone else. But first, we have to know why he’s lingering.”

“You want to know why? Edmund is punishing us. Just like he punished everyone who got close to him in life. He was so full of anger and resentment by the end.”

“I’ve dealt with angry ghosts before. They still have unfinished business. Maybe even deep-seated remorse.”

“Are you one of those people who thinks everyone’s good, way down underneath? I used to believe that, too.” She walked a few feet away, heading toward the side of the brick building. Penny thought she was going to skirt around to the front entrance.

I guess Ben was right, she thought. I’m doing this all wrong.

But then, Diane turned around, her hard expression softening. “The girl who was hurt. Hannah. Is she going to be all right?”

“I really don’t know. Last update we got, she’s in stable condition. But who knows if she’ll wake up.”

Diane sighed, leaning her weight against the bricks. She was tall and lean, her skin taut on her frame. “I thought it was over. But it never ends.”

She didn’t move to leave. Penny said nothing, waiting.

“You really see ghosts?” Diane asked. “What’s that like?”

“Honestly? Kind of scary at times. I’ve been a medium all my life, but I’m new to this investigating ‘team’ thing.”

Diane looked up, surprised.

“When I saw Edmund, I got a lot of emotion from him,” Penny said. “Anger, like you said. But also fear. Sorrow. I need to know more about him if I’m going to help him move on.”

“You really think you can get through to him?”

Penny thought before responding. This woman had obviously endured a lot. “I don’t know. But I’m going to try.”

The people of this town deserved that much, despite Penny’s own reservations about her ability.

Diane pushed off of the wall. “Let me go back inside and see to some things. But when I have a few spare minutes, I suppose I could sit down with you.”

* * *

“To understand what happened, you have to understand some things about our family.”

Diane had joined Penny and Ben at their table. The diner was nearly empty, just a couple of people reading books or newspapers at tables across the room. Diane’s apron hung on a peg by the kitchen, and she seemed smaller without it. Less imposing. She wore a simple black t-shirt tucked into stonewashed jeans. She’d pulled her graying hair into a low ponytail, her gaze fixed on the table.

“The first thing to know about the Demlers is where our father’s money came from.” She glanced up. “Unless you’ve heard this part? Not sure how many of those TV things you’ve watched.”

“Please,” Penny said. “We’d like to hear it from you.”

“My father was heir to a tobacco fortune. All kinds of karma involved there—primarily slavery, but the lung cancer part isn’t so good either. That’s where he got the money to build his mansion, invest in this town. But when we were kids, of course, we didn’t have a clue. I had a happy childhood, all in all.”

Diane pulled a paper napkin from the dispenser and began shredding it into strips.

“See, our father had the money, but our mother was the one who ruled our home. She was strict with us, and even though she always acted out of love, her rules could be oppressive. Sylas, the oldest of us, didn’t mind. He flourished with all that structure. ‘Be here at this time, do this, then this.’ It’s probably why he made the military his career. But Rachel, the next oldest before me? She hated being told what to do. To her, it didn’t matter what Mom said, it was just the principle of the thing. Mom and Rachel sniped at each other, day in and day out, when we were growing up. A battle of wills.”

Ben’s pencil scratched against his pad as he jotted down notes. Diane eyed him, and he stopped.

“As for me? I was third in line, smack dab in the middle once my sister Andrea and then Grant came along. I tried to keep everybody happy, everybody together. All smiles. I was the kid who volunteered at clinics, baked brownies to share at church, who babysat for free and read to the kids from Little House on the Prairie. I ran errands for my older siblings and covered for them when they didn’t do their chores.”

Diane paused, her gaze unfocused. Suddenly she sat back and huffed. “Listen to me. This is why I don’t like talking about those days. Once I get started, it’s hard to stop.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Penny said.

“Aren’t you accommodating?” She lifted a sarcastic eyebrow. “Eventually, despite my best efforts, Rachel couldn’t stand being home anymore. She was like a little pixie. Beautiful, full of energy. She’d always wanted to live a bigger life—to be an actress in movies, a singer, a famous novelist. Who knows? When she was sixteen, she learned where our money really came from, and that was all the push she needed. She called our mother a hypocrite, packed up one night and took off. And you know what? I was glad when Rachel left. I thought it was better for her, better for us.”

“How old were you?” Ben asked.

“Fourteen when Rachel left, fifteen when she returned. I like to think I did my best. But sometimes I wonder if I should’ve done more to save them.”

“Who?” Penny said.

She blinked. “All of them. Starting with my older sister.” Diane tore another strip from the napkin.

“Vera told us that Rachel came home pregnant?” Penny prompted.

Diane frowned, though Penny couldn’t tell if it was the mention of Rachel’s pregnancy or the mention of Vera that piqued her more. “Yes. Rachel was pregnant. I was the first to find out. She snuck into my room the night she arrived and put my hand on her stomach. She was about five months along, hiding the bump with baggy clothes. ‘You feel that?’ she asked me. ‘That’s going to be your little niece or nephew.’ She knew full well how our mother would react, but Rachel wanted some small moment of celebration before hell came down on her. Both of us were still kids ourselves. But I promised her that night I’d help them any way I could, no matter what our mother said or did. I loved my sister, and I loved that baby.”

She paused again. Her voice had gotten thicker, but her eyes remained dry.

“After Rachel died, I took care of Edmund a lot. My mother had commanded that we pretend he belonged to one of the staff; even then, she wanted to keep Rachel’s shame a secret. When he got older, though, he looked too much like a Demler. There wasn’t any way to keep the truth hidden any more. Not that I’d ever wanted to. I hated the lies.”

“There’s a room inside the kitchen pantry,” Penny said. “Did it have any significance?”

“Edmund was born there, and for a short time my mother insisted he stay there as a child. But I certainly treated him like part of the family. He’d never liked to be held, but I sang to him whenever I finished with my homework in the afternoons. Some people claim that we kept him a prisoner, but that’s just not true—if anything, Edmund pushed us away. He’d always preferred to be alone. As he grew, Edmund came and went as he pleased. Whenever I couldn’t find him, I’d go to that pantry room and he’d be there, listening to music all by himself.”

“Did you suspect that Edmund was troubled?” Ben asked.

She glanced around the diner. Nearly every other customer had gone. “I did. And I didn’t.” She hesitated. “After my mother finally passed, I decided to start our youth camp for girls. Sylas was overseas in the Marines, and he agreed that we should do something good with the Demler money. But more than anything, I wanted to provide a place for girls like Rachel. So they could get back on their feet in a safe place.” Diane closed her eyes. “I had no idea that our camp wasn’t safe at all with someone like Edmund around.”

She paused a moment, breathing in and out.

“There were warning signs. I saw that in hindsight. Edmund was a liar, often a convincing one. He’d borrow a car, waste gas by driving around aimlessly, then claim he’d never left the house. So many times I defended him to the others. He told me he was teaching himself computer programming and looking towards the future, but he just let me see what I wanted to see.”

“Did he have any other friends?” Penny asked.

“Not that I knew of. I asked my youngest brother, Grant, to spend time with Edmund. I practically raised Grant, too. He’s about five years older than Edmund, and I hoped he’d be a good influence. Like a brother even, more than an uncle. Grant and our brother-in-law, Mike Lofton, they made an effort. But it didn’t help. I should have watched Edmund more closely. If I’d known he was hanging around with any of the girls, our residents, I’d have put a stop to it. But I was so busy with running the camp.”

Penny folded her arms on the table. “Could you tell us about the victims?”

“There are crime reports from back then. Trey has them. The sheriff, I mean. And I’m sure I gave my statement.”

“But it’s different hearing you talk about the girls in person,” Penny said. “They could be haunting the mansion, too.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t. They must’ve had friends who can remember better than me.”

Ben tapped his pencil against the notebook. “What happened the day of the fire? The day Edmund died?”

Diane sat back in her seat. She glanced at the counter, like she was searching for an excuse to go. But nobody was waiting to be served. “Those final hours have been rehashed in books and media; I’m not going to add to them. All I’ll say is, after the fire happened and the truth came out, I never set foot inside our family home again. But if Edmund is really still there…”

She looked from Penny to Ben like she was asking for confirmation.

“We’re sure,” Penny said. “He’s there.”

Ben nodded. “I’d say ninety percent sure.”

“Edmund was manipulative in life. I saw that for myself. But I had no idea how far it went, how he must’ve talked those girls into trusting him. He convinced them to believe his lies to get them alone and vulnerable. If he’s the same in death? I wouldn’t want to get anywhere near.”

Chapter Eleven

Ben opened the door for Penny, and they walked into the lobby of the sheriff’s department. The office took up a mid-century building on a quiet residential street in Crimson Falls. Potted plants cheered up the place, contrasting with the scuffed linoleum floors and yellowing dropped ceiling. A couple of officers glanced up at them from desks.

The receptionist was already up and waving for them to follow her. “The sheriff is expecting you.”

In his office, Lofton smiled from his desk. “Ms. Wright, lovely to see you again.”

Ben kept his smirk to himself. Penny didn’t know much about investigating, but people sure seemed to like her. She’d done surprisingly well with Diane at the diner, getting the woman to open up far more than Ben would’ve expected.

He’d decided not to worry about what happened last night. He and Penny were both under a lot of pressure, and he’d probably been a little too harsh with her since they’d met. Besides, a quick rapport with a teammate didn’t necessarily mean much either, did it? He’d been great friends with his last partner. And look how that had turned out.

I’ll play nice, he told himself. Thanks to Penny, they now had a clearer picture of Edmund Demler. Next, they needed to understand his crimes.

“And you must be Mr. Kwan.” Lofton held out his hand. “Anderson told me you’d come by today. And here you are. Well. Have a seat.”

The receptionist closed the door as she left.

“I hope this is a good time?” Penny asked.

“Oh sure,” the sheriff said. Then he sighed. “Apparently the Crimson Falls rumor mill is working overtime. I’ve gotten some calls from people who aren’t happy that paranormal investigators have come to town. The usual busybodies, for the most part.” He stood and went to a work table, where a cardboard box waited. “Anderson said you’d like a look at the files from the murder case? I’m afraid I can’t allow them to leave the premises, but you’re welcome to go over them here. No pictures please, just notes. If you’d mind turning over your phones?”

“Is that really necessary?” Ben asked.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t leak anything to the media. But if your phone gets hacked? Once it’s out there, it’s out there. You wouldn’t believe the vultures who come sniffing around for fresh info on those old murders. There are details that the previous sheriffs kept from the public—that’s common in all sorts of cases—and I’d like to respect that.”

It seemed like more caution than needed, but Ben handed over his phone. Penny did the same.

Ben went to the table and opened the box. It had a small stack of files inside—much smaller than Ben would’ve expected for a case involving three murders and the death of the suspect. Especially considering it all would’ve been hard copy back in 1995, little or nothing digital.

“Do you need anything to drink?” Lofton asked.

“Water would be great,” Ben said.

He was glad when Lofton left the room instead of calling his receptionist. “Was he so nervous yesterday?”

“Not this bad,” Penny replied softly. “He even met us in the diner because he wanted to be open about us being here. But Anderson said that the sheriff was hiding something when he spoke to us.”

Lofton returned with two bottles of water. “Let me know if you two need anything else.” He’d mentioned both of them, but was looking at Penny.

“Thanks, Trey,” she said.

Ben lifted the files out of the box. Lofton went to his desk and fiddled with his computer, but Ben felt the guy watching them.

Penny must’ve felt it, too. “Is there someplace we’d be out of your way?” she asked. “A conference room?”

“No, no. It’s no bother. Go right ahead.”

She lifted her eyebrows at Ben. I tried, she seemed to say. Ben nodded in thanks.

“Where should we start?” Penny asked.

“Let’s begin with the victims. I want to put together a summary on each of them.” They needed to know who might be haunting Demler Mansion besides Edmund, and why—apart from the obvious. But not every murder victim ended up a ghost. There was always a complex interplay between person, place, timing.

“Based on records, and not from whatever’s been said in the media,” Penny said. “I get it.”

He’d been about to say just that. “Exactly.”

They took seats at the small table. Ben quickly paged through the files, separating them into categories.

Ben didn’t usually explain this to other people, but the human side of their investigation was his favorite part. Yeah, it was exciting following spirit trails in the field, tracking their energies and predicting where they’d go next. But none of it made sense without the human stories to fill in the blanks. The who, the why.

When he was young and still traveled with his family during performance season, he looked for the public library as soon as they reached a new town. Zandra might have the edge when it came to live interviews, but Ben could spend hours pouring over old books and documents, gleaning every bit of knowledge from the pages.

The images, though—they didn’t always sit well. He went quickly past the photo sections of the files, choosing to focus on the written accounts and reports instead.

After about an hour, they’d put together a working profile of Demler’s victims. The first had been Rosalee, nineteen years old. In June of 1994, Rosalee and some friends had been caught skinny-dipping in the lake by the Shady Valley camp. They all got a lecture and were sent to their respective rooms. The next morning, nobody could find Rosalee. But later that day, some of the girls saw a body floating in the lake.

The interviews of her supposed friends were unhelpful. Nobody had seen or heard a thing.

“Hold on,” Penny said. “According to this, Rosalee was staying overnight at the camp that weekend, but she was a local. Lived in town.”

So she wasn’t a runaway, like many of the girls at the camp. Ben added the details to their summary.

According to the coroner’s report, Rosalee had suffered a blow to the head, which could’ve happened when she slipped off the small wooden pier. An accident, the original report said, no evidence of foul play. Obviously that assessment would change. But not until much later.

Nicki Ember was the second girl to disappear. In August of 1995, she had a fight with her roommate, packed a bag and said she’d hitchhike home. Almost a week later, the roommate—Tina Freeman—called the Ember residence and found out that Nicki had never arrived. Tina notified the police.

Almost right away, they decided to dredge the lake. Because they knew, Ben thought. Even blaming accidents or the girls themselves, the county sheriff’s department must’ve realized that the lake posed an outsized danger. Even non-sensitives could pick up on psychic vibrations when they were screaming to be heard. The file on Nicki had more interviews and more witness statements. Tina had actually mentioned Edmund Demler to the investigators—said that Nicki had been friends with him.

“Have you seen anything about an interview with Edmund?” Ben whispered to Penny. “They got a tip that he knew Nicki.”

Penny shook her head.

Ben flipped through the files twice, but he couldn’t find anything. They hadn’t even bothered to question Edmund. Because he’d been part of the Demler family? In the years since, the media had definitely speculated that Crimson Falls authorities failed to stop Edmund because of his last name.

Ben doubted that anyone had suspected Demler and then covered it up. Nothing so directly nefarious. But the investigators chose to ignore the clues and instead made the easy assumptions to close the case.

They didn’t want to think they had a serial killer among them.

Ben turned to the forensic report on Nicki Ember. She had been in the water close to a week, her pockets and backpack filled with rocks. The coroner had noted contusions on her shoulders and arms, but apparently thought nothing of them—even though the bruises could’ve suggested a struggle. The tox screening showed ketamine, a party drug, in her system. No other evidence of assault. Then, when the authorities learned Nicki had attempted suicide two years before, the rest of the investigation turned perfunctory. She was a party girl, they said. Wild. Overly emotional.

“No wonder he was hesitant about showing us these files,” Ben murmured. Penny glanced over at Lofton, who seemed to be absorbed in whatever he was reading on his computer. “Not that it changes anything for us, either way.” They were here to deal with ghosts, not dig up dirt on the sheriff’s department.

“But if they’d figured it out sooner…” Penny selected a photo and put it in the middle of the table. Tina Freeman. It was a school yearbook picture showing a girl with light red hair, pale skin. She had delicate, doll-like features. But her blue eyes looked pained, like it hurt to smile.

If the police had questioned Edmund, or examined the physical evidence more closely after Nicki’s death, maybe Tina would still be alive. It was a shame.

Tina Freeman had left home after her junior year of high school. She lived at the Shady Valley Camp for around three months before she disappeared. But Tina didn’t wind up in the lake. Instead, her body and a backpack containing her belongings was found in a storage shed, along with a half-filled bucket of water. That was where Demler had drowned her. Hair, fiber and DNA evidence linked Demler to the scene. Like Nicki, Tina had ketamine in her system when she died. The presence of the drug now took on a whole new significance to the case.

The investigators concluded that Edmund disabled Tina with a ketamine injection, drowned her in the shed, and left her there instead of dumping her in the lake. Then he went home. Perhaps he feared that he couldn’t get away with a third murder. Or maybe Edmund wanted to stop himself from hurting anyone else. Whatever his reasons, he went upstairs, poured lighter fluid over the curtains in several second-floor rooms, and set the fire that would end his life. Afterward, the police found vials of veterinary ketamine in his room, his fingerprints on the glass.

After Tina and Edmund’s deaths, forensic experts from the Colorado Bureau of Investigation reexamined the evidence. They found that Nicki had probably died in the shed, like Tina—drowned in the bucket of water. Which explained her bruises perfectly.

Rosalee, however, had no bruising on her shoulders, no ketamine in her tox screening—because Edmund hit her over the head instead. She’d been unconscious when she drowned, so she didn’t fight back. It was his first kill, and he was still developing his M.O.

None of these details had been in the media.

“Did you see this?” he murmured to Penny. “About the bucket in the shed?”

“I did. And look.” She paged through the photos in Tina’s file until she located the one she wanted. “This is where they died.”

It was a small wooden building, no windows. Clouds dotted the sky behind it, the lake dark gray and turbulent. Ben didn’t like to think of the things that must’ve happened inside. He was grateful that his gift didn’t require him to relive a ghost’s memories in gory detail.

Penny was shaking her head, gaze fixed on the image. “Remember last night? We found the ruins of a small building, right at the edge of the woods. I think it was this shed.”

Ben thought of the weak spirit trail he’d seen at the ruins. And Penny had described a drowned woman walking nearby. Could she have been one of the victims?

Penny dragged more photos from the files and lined them up. Rosalee, Nicki, and Tina—all of them had shades of auburn hair or red highlights.

“So Edmund had a type,” Ben said.

He sat back, as if those extra few inches would create a barrier between his emotions and those images. Of course, it didn’t work. His stomach churned. The subject of death didn’t faze him; he faced death every day in his job. Most people, both living and dead, were a mixture of faults and virtues, products of circumstance and experience. Ben rarely had to deal with cases like this, ones that made him believe that true evil really could exist.

He went back to the written summaries. After several minutes, Ben realized that Penny was still staring at the photos of the girls. She had an oddly distant look in her eyes.

“Penny?” Ben asked. “Are you okay?”

Behind them, Sheriff Lofton shifted in his office chair. He was watching them.

Penny hadn’t responded. Ben reached over to nudge her arm. Suddenly she inhaled, moving away before he could touch her. She stared at him with her eyes wide, like she was shocked to find him there.

“I was…thinking.” She scooped up the pictures and returned them to the larger stack of papers, even though they belonged in different places in the files.

“Were you getting something just then? A vision?” Some para-sensitives could work with photos or objects. They could pick up psychic traces and report all kinds of things—where missing people might be, who might’ve touched an item last. Ben’s mother was particularly skilled at reading objects that way. But he hadn’t known that Penny could do the same.

“No. No, it’s nothing.”

Sheriff Lofton cleared his throat. He was standing right behind them. “Anderson said you’d be gathering a list of people you’d like to interview?”

“Yeah, we’ve been working on that.” Ben pulled out another sheet of notepaper, placing it over their victim summaries. He wasn’t even sure why, but he didn’t like that Lofton had been reading over their shoulders.

The sheriff scanned over their list of names. Some had come from the police files, others from people that Vera or Diane had mentioned, like Grant Demler, the relative who’d tried to befriend Edmund. They had also added the name Mike Lofton to the list—Grant’s brother-in-law, and obviously a relative of the current sheriff.

In fact, the last name “Lofton” had come up numerous times throughout the files.

“I think this must refer to my father?” the sheriff said. “I’m Mike Lofton the third. My dad was the second, and grandpa was Michael Lofton the first. It’s confusing, I know. Especially because we’ve all served our time as county sheriff. That’s why I go by ‘Trey.’”

“We were going to ask you about that,” Penny said, more apologetically than Ben thought necessary.

“So your grandfather was sheriff back in 1995,” Ben said, flipping back through the file. “I saw the name, and wondered.”

“I figured you would. Certainly no secret.”

Though you didn’t bother to mention it before, Ben thought.

“My grandfather passed about five years ago. He was sensitive about the Demler case until the end. Blamed himself for their failure to understand they had a serial killer on their hands—until it was too late, anyway. So my father’s a little sore on the subject as well. More than I realized. He’s not happy about me allowing you all to investigate the haunting.”

“We may need to speak to him,” Ben said. “Did your father know Edmund?”

“Not well. You can certainly try to ask him your questions. But I’m just saying, he might not want to answer you.” Lofton sat against the table, sighing. “My father can be a stubborn jackass, if you want the unvarnished truth. God love him.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Penny said.

“Well, there’s more.” The sheriff stuck his hands into his pockets, hunching forward. “I’m part of the Demler family, as you’ve seen by now. My mother is Andrea, Grant and Diane’s sister. I know what you’re thinking, there’s a lot of us. Probably half of Crimson Falls is related to the Demlers in some shape or form. I consider myself objective. When I invited you all here, I didn’t realize you’d need to dig into the old murder case.”

“I’m confused,” Ben said. “Are you withdrawing your support for our investigation?”

“Of course not. Just tread lightly, please? I’m the one who has to keep the peace around here after you’re gone. Not only when it comes to my job.” He forced a smile. “I’d like for my family to still speak to me at Christmas dinner.”

“We’ll do our best,” Penny said.

“But don’t forget, you signed a contract,” Ben added.

Penny’s eyes widened in surprise. “A contract?”

But Lofton’s expression confirmed he knew exactly what Ben was talking about, even if he wasn’t happy about it.

“We’re going to do our jobs,” Ben said, “whether that upsets your constituents or not.” He grabbed their notes and started packing. If Lofton was trying to obstruct their investigation, then they were done here, for now at least. Ben would see what Anderson had to say about it.

Chapter Twelve

Former Undersheriff Ron Mason settled into his Adirondack chair. “I spent only four years working for Sheriff Lofton—the first Sheriff Lofton—before I quit law enforcement. Moved to Denver and got into building downtown skyscrapers instead. It was the Demler case that did me in. The way those girls died.” He shook his head. “I wish I could say I never think about that case anymore. But I do.”

Zandra crossed her legs. They were sitting on Mason’s deck overlooking the foothills in Golden, a suburb of Denver. Cold wind bit at her nose, but the sun was bright and intense. Her headache still throbbed between her eyes, though luckily the nausea had passed.

“We have part of our team taking another look at the case files,” Anderson said to Mason. “We appreciate you speaking with us.”

“I didn’t promise to tell you anything yet. I haven’t decided.”

Mason wore a pullover sweater and dark jeans. He had a clean-shaven head and face; a thick gold wedding band adorned his ring finger. Zandra wasn’t getting much emotion from him, but sometimes her senses were blunted after an intensive reading. Or perhaps Ron Mason was a particularly stoic individual.

“I’ve seen some gruesome accidents, don’t get me wrong,” he said. “A major construction site can be a dangerous place on occasion. But never when I’m the one in charge. I’m careful. By the book. With Demler, though—I could’ve stopped the guy if I’d crossed every t and dotted every i. That poor girl died as a result. Tina Freeman. I’ve never forgotten her face.”

“You met her?” Zandra asked.

“I did. Just a week or so before she would be killed. Before Demler would kill her.” Mason looked up at Zandra, then Anderson. “I want to know if it’s true. Does he haunt that house? Edmund Demler?”

“What’ve you heard?” Zandra asked.

“Don’t play games with me,” Mason replied, though he spoke evenly. “Is Edmund Demler still in the house where he died? Yes or no.”

Stoic, Zandra thought. He’s definitely stoic.

Anderson sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “We believe so, yes. A girl was injured at Demler Mansion just last month. That’s when we got involved.”

“There’s a lot of suffering going on in that house,” Zandra added. “I felt it myself. Demler’s victim’s might still be there, too.”

“And you’re trying to break the cycle. I admire that.” Mason got up from his chair and went to the edge of the deck. He rested both hands against the railing, looking out at the view. The sun had melted away the frost wherever it touched, but the shady sides of the foothills were white with snow.

“I saw a ghost, once,” he said. “Ten years ago. My twin brother. I was on a cross-country flight to a trade show—before I retired from general contracting—and my brother walked down the aisle and stopped at my seat. Put his hand on my shoulder and said, I gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Took me a minute to register that he wasn’t supposed to be on that flight at all. I even looked for him, thinking it was some crazy coincidence. Then I thought I must’ve drifted off and been dreaming. But when we landed, I found out he’d had a heart attack while I was in the air and died on scene.” Mason shrugged. “That was his spirit on the plane, saying goodbye. Either of you ever heard of anything like that?”

“Many times,” Anderson said. “At the moment of death, a soul can displace to a location thousands of miles away if the desire is strong enough.”

These were some of the most common ghost stories. Every once in a while, a soul could linger for days or even weeks with a loved one. Zandra had met a woman who was convinced that her husband was her guardian angel, and Zandra had indeed felt his presence. But these uplifting stories weren’t the ones that got the most attention.

“But after that, my brother was gone,” Mason said. “Wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Anderson replied. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Zandra nodded. “The dead aren’t meant to remain among the living.”

“Then why in the hell is someone like Edmund Demler still here on this earth? Why are those girls he killed trapped with him, if that’s really true?”

Because they’re stuck in the worst moments of their lives, she thought. They’re reliving their traumas over and over again. And as for Demler? He was feeding on the same hate that drove him during life, only it was worse now. Like every decent part of him had been cut away, leaving only his rage at those he thought did him wrong.

That’s what Zandra had felt in the memory she took from Ross Trujio, Hannah’s friend.

But she didn’t want to make this conversation even more depressing than it already was.

“If we can understand the specific reasons the ghosts are still at Demler Mansion,” she said, “we stand a better chance of convincing them to leave.”

“So nobody else gets hurt, right?” Mason still looked skeptical. “I’ve got a godson who’s a detective in Denver. I called him up after I got off the phone with you. He said he’s heard the names ‘Mercury Group’ and ‘Anderson Green’ a time or two, unofficially. You’re someone who investigators call when they have problems that normal methods can’t solve.”

“We do what we can,” Anderson said.

“Don’t peddle false modesty, I hate that kind of thing.” Mason was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Let me back up to the start of it. The start for me, anyway. After we found Nicki Ember’s remains in the lake, Deputy Royal and I started interviewing the girls at that camp. Pretty soon we had a picture of Nicki—runaway, troubled, mental health issues in her past. During a break, the sheriff called to let us know that he’d spoken to the Ember family, and Nicki had spent time in a psychiatric ward a couple years before. Deputy Royal thought it was a pretty clear case of suicide. I hadn’t quite made up my mind yet, but I was leaning that way.

“Then we spoke to Tina.

“She’d been Nicki’s best friend, according to all the others. Most of the girls were squirrelly, probably just because we were cops. But Tina was about ready to jump out of her skin. I had a hunch that she knew something important. At first she didn’t want to say much, but after more questioning, she unleashed a bombshell: Nicki had been seeing some boy. Nobody else had mentioned anything like that. Tina gave us a name: Edmund Demler. She didn’t know for sure if they’d been dating, but for me, that was enough to warrant further inquiry. When a girl turns up dead, you look at the boyfriend. It’s not rocket science.”

“But the other deputies didn’t see it that way?” Anderson asked.

“The sheriff didn’t see it that way.” Mason scratched the back of his head. “After the interview with Tina, we shared what we’d learned. I wanted to get Edmund into an interview room right away—at the sheriff’s office, preferably. So we’d have video available. But the sheriff balked. He said, ‘Girls like these always want attention. They’ll do anything to get it.’ He saw no point in embarrassing the Demler family. I know how that all sounds today, and it was just as bad back in ’95. But I fell in line. Even though Nicki left no suicide note, and there was no evidence that she’d been experiencing that kind of mental health episode. I ignored my instincts. It didn’t come out until later—after Tina was dead—that the whole family knew Demler was a compulsive liar with a violent streak.”

“Did anyone else try to investigate Nicki’s ‘boyfriend’?” Anderson asked.

“Not as far as I know. We had an explanation for Nicki’s death, and chose to ignore anything to the contrary. Later, after Demler and Tina were both dead, I started asking questions again. Who might’ve known that Demler was dangerous. Whether there was a cover-up by the Demler family. And I didn’t get any straight answers. I felt like all of Crimson Falls just wanted to sweep the case under the rug. I mean, just look at the movies and news articles that’ve been written about the case since—people talk like Edmund Demler was this innocent, good-looking kid, and nobody could’ve guessed the evil he was really hiding inside. I don’t buy it. Somebody in that town knew something. I don’t know what they were hiding or why. But it’s a disgrace to the memory of Tina Freeman and Nicki Ember and the other—Rosalee, that’s her name—to pretend that we couldn’t have caught Demler earlier.”

“Why tell us this?” Anderson was speaking to Mason, but he’d caught Zandra’s eye. He wondered what Zandra could read from Mason that went unsaid. But although she could tell that the man spoke honestly, she couldn’t read his underlying motives. Nor did she see any need to risk a further headache.

“I don’t want to appear on TV,” Mason said. “I don’t want to make this about me. And yeah, maybe I don’t want to say in front of the whole world, ‘I messed up.’ But if you can figure out what really happened, you should tell the story. Maybe it’s not too late to make things right.”

Mason took something from his pocket. A piece of paper. “Tina had a younger sister. Her name’s Corinne. She used to call me sometimes, just to talk about the case. She was very young when Tina died, so she never really knew her older sister. But I still think you’ll want to talk to her.”

Zandra accepted the piece of paper. “Any particular reason?” she asked.

“Because the last time we spoke, about a year ago, she asked me about whether Demler Mansion was haunted. Seems she’s had ghosts on her mind. Maybe you should find out why.”

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Tina spent most of a week trying to decipher Nicki’s code writing. She studied the words right-side up and upside-down, backward and forward, without luck. She hadn’t shown the notebook to anyone else, though—the police or Diane would probably take it away and give it to Nicki’s parents. This was the one piece of Nicki that she still had.

But what was the point if she couldn’t read what it said?

Meanwhile, the police had finished up their interviews and investigation. When anybody mentioned Nicki, it was just to say “how sad” or “what a waste.” As if they knew anything at all about Nicki’s life.

I guess I didn’t know either, Tina thought. But I’d like to.

If she could just read that stupid notebook. It had to say something important. Why else would Nicki go to all that trouble?

Would it mention Edmund Demler, and their supposed friendship? Tina had wondered about him, too. She felt a little silly for telling the deputies about him. If they’d questioned him about Nicki, she hadn’t heard.

I’m not smart enough for this, Tina thought. She was a B-minus student at best. But Nicki would probably tell her not to expect so little from herself. That’s what they think of us, Nicki would say. They think we’re dumb and useless. Don’t prove them right.

She needed to go to the library.

Thursday afternoons were usually quiet, so she waited until after lunch to catch the bus into town. A few other girls rode, too—breaking the rules—but they drifted into other directions after the bus dropped them on Main Street. Tina walked one street over and then down the two blocks to reach the Crimson Falls library.

The building was made of huge blocks of stone and arched windows, far more elaborate than she’d have expected for such a small town. Tina pushed through the front door, feeling self-conscious. The inside was even fancier—a soaring ceiling criss-crossed with beams, shiny marble floors. Tina hesitated until a librarian looked up and smiled at her.

“Hi,” the lady said, “can I help you find anything?”

Tina approached the desk. “I’m looking for books about deciphering codes?”

They talked for a little while. The lady seemed kind and helpful, so Tina took the risk of showing her the notebook. The librarian shuffled through the pages with a thoughtful look on her face.

“I’ve seen codes like this before. Shouldn’t be too tough, I’ll bet. Let’s go find a book on code breaking.”

They went into the stacks. Tina saw someone sitting and reading from the corner of her eye.

Edmund Demler sat in an upholstered chair, one leg draped over the side. He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers.

“Over here, Miss Freeman,” the librarian called.

Tina ran to follow the woman’s voice. She found the librarian holding a thick hardcover. “This one will help us, I think.” She took the book over to a study desk and flipped it open.

About ten minutes later, they’d started decoding the first page of Nicki’s notebook.

May 17. I hate this place. I can’t even believe I came all the way to the middle of nowhere for this. Only good thing about Shady Valley? It’s not home.

“Who wrote this?” the librarian said. “The author certainly doesn’t sound happy.”

“It’s…for a project. Can I finish the rest later?” She scooped up the notebook and the library book.

The librarian seemed disappointed, but she nodded. “Of course. If you don’t have a card already, I’ll need an I.D. Or you’re welcome to use the book here.”

Tina thanked her and waited until the woman was gone. Then she got to work, deciphering more of Nicki’s writing. She’d brought a fresh pad of paper, borrowed from her roommate’s things, to write the translation.

“What’s that?” a male voice asked.

She knew it was him before she even looked up. Edmund stood over her, one arm resting on the nearest bookcase. The notebook made a dull thwack as she closed it.

“Nothing. What do you want?”

“To see how you are. And say I’m sorry about the other day. After what happened to Nicki…I was just in a weird mood.”

“Yeah. It was a bad day. I had to talk to the police.” Tina played with the fraying edge of the library book’s cover. “Did they talk to you?”

“No.”

She’d wondered about that—including whether or not they’d told Edmund that Tina had mentioned him. But they hadn’t decided it was worthwhile talking to him at all.

Nicki had been friends with him, or at least acquaintances. And she’d hated most everybody else around the girls’ camp. That was one stroke in his favor. But Tina still didn’t know if she could trust him, after he’d creeped her out last week.

He pulled over another chair and sat near her. “Wasn’t that Nicki’s? The notebook?”

“How’d you know?”

“I saw her writing in it. Out on the pier over the lake.”

He reached for the notebook, but Tina pinned her arm over it. “She was my best friend, but she never mentioned you. Why?”

“Probably because I caught her at the big house. Sneaking around. That’s how we met.”

“You did? For real?”

The “big house” was what Diane called the huge Demler Mansion across the lake. The camp girls were forbidden from going there. Nicki had actually been there?

“What was she doing?”

“Dunno,” he said. “I didn’t ask, and I didn’t rat on her either. After that, we talked sometimes. Mostly about how we can’t stand our families.”

That sounded like Nicki.

“We had that in common, too.” Tina opened the notebook and took out her translation. “Nicki wrote this in a code. She replaced the letters with different ones, only they’re kind of scrambled. The librarian helped me figure it out.”

He leaned in, and the hairs of his arm tickled hers. “Do you think she wrote about you?” he asked. “Or me?”

“I guess she might have. Probably wrote how much I annoyed her.” Tina laughed, even though she was afraid of reading what her friend really thought. If Nicki really hated me, she thought, I deserve it.

“I doubt that.” Edmund’s smile was so quick, she almost missed it.

They worked on the translation together. His closeness was distracting. His wrist kept bumping her when he pointed at the page. He smelled like soap, with something spicy underneath. The sheer fact of his maleness made her limbs feel heavy and her chest tighten. She hadn’t been around any boys in a while, so she blamed hormones. Though he was definitely attractive. Nicki was right about that.

Edmund was smart, too—he could replace the code letters for the proper ones using the key much faster than she could. But every once in a while, he would look up, his gaze moving across the room. Then he’d shake his head and squeeze his eyes shut.

The second time it happened, she asked, “What is it?”

“Sorry. Nothing.” He hunched over their work again.

Finally, after they’d translated five pages of notebook—mostly about Nicki’s parents and friends back home—Tina looked up at the clock on the wall. It was almost dinner.

“I missed the bus. Crap.” She grabbed the notebook.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Really?”

Edmund led her through the library’s back exit. He went to a green Honda and unlocked it. “This isn’t the same car you had the other day,” she said.

“I borrowed a different one.”

“Borrowed or stole?”

He smirked. She got in and buckled her seatbelt. Maybe it was better if she didn’t know. “I just need to get back. I got demerits for disappearing last time.”

She sunk down in the passenger seat as they drove through town, worried someone would see her. In a couple of minutes they were out on the two-lane highway. Aspens and cottonwoods flashed past, the creek flowing alongside the road. Edmund was playing the same music from last time. He must’ve carried the tape around with him.

“Why did you hit Grant that day? When you guys were building the shed?”

“You saw that?” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Grant thinks he can say whatever he wants. I didn’t agree.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing I want to hear again.”

Tina glanced around the car. It had a familiar smell—raspberry and vanilla. She popped open the glove compartment.

“What’re you doing?” Edmund asked.

Tina grabbed the car registration paper. “Are you kidding me? This is Diane’s car?”

Edmund leaned over, plucked the registration paper from her hand, and closed it inside the glove compartment. “Like I said, I just borrowed it. She’ll never know. Unless you tell her?”

“No way I’m telling her. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

“I thought you were ready to get out of Crimson Falls,” Edmund reminded her. “Now you care what Diane thinks?”

“I’m working on Nicki’s notebook right now. I can’t leave yet.” Though he had a point.

Leaving had made sense to her when she was torn up over Nicki’s death. But Shady Valley was still better than going home to Denver. If she returned to her mom and her step-family, they’d bug her about her plans. They didn’t really want her there. Staying in place was easier than figuring out what she’d do next.

Edmund stopped the car a quarter mile from the turnoff for Shady Valley. “Come by the big house tomorrow if you want to work on translating the code.”

They’d be alone. That made her stomach swirl. “I don’t want to get caught.”

“Nicki never did. Except by me, and that doesn’t count.”

Even if we’re alone, Nicki will still be around, Tina thought bitterly, and then felt guilty. This whole project was supposed to be about Nicki, her best friend. Not spending time with a guy she barely knew. Tina got out of the car without making any promises.

But she thought of Edmund all afternoon.

That night, when she got back to her cabin after dinner, Jasmine was holding an envelope. She’d already opened it.

“What’s that?” Tina asked.

“Oh, it’s for you,” Jasmine said. As if she’d just realized that fact, even though the envelope clearly said “Tina” on the outside in block letters. “Somebody left it outside the door.”

Her roommates stared as she tipped the envelope on its side. A cassette tape slid out, held by a clear plastic case. The label just said, For Tina.

Nothing to explain who had left it. But she knew it was Edmund.

Chapter Thirteen

As they left the sheriff’s office, Penny’s phone buzzed with a text. Anderson had written, Staying over in Denver to meet a witness in the morning. See you tomorrow.

“Guess it’s just us tonight,” Ben said.

“Sounds like it.” She was still thinking about that “contract” that Ben had mentioned. Clearly, it was a source of tension with the sheriff. Ben had packed up abruptly, like he was angry. But Trey Lofton was in a difficult place, trying to balance his work with his obligations to family. She definitely understood how difficult that could be.

They crossed the street, heading toward where they’d parked Ben’s Subaru.

“Hey, what happened in there, when you were looking at the photos?” he asked.

Penny turned around. “Photos?”

She tried to think back to the pictures she’d seen. She’d noticed that Ben moved quickly past the gruesome ones—photos of the girls after they were found. The gray skin and filmy eyes. It was stomach-churning stuff. But Penny also felt that she had to look. To acknowledge what those girls had endured. Plus, seeing a picture was nothing to fully reliving the girls’ memories.

Penny had seen some very dark things as a medium. Those wouldn’t be the last, especially with a case like this. So photos? No, they weren’t so bad.

“Do you mean the picture of the shed?” Penny asked. “Where they died?”

“No, the pictures of the three victims. You lined them up. And then you seemed to go into a trance.”

“A trance?” Penny didn’t remember anything like that. “I don’t think so.”

She almost laughed, but Ben’s expression was hard. Scrutinizing. “You don’t read photos? Are you sure?”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” She walked toward the car. “I thought you’d be more concerned about Sheriff Lofton. Whether he’s getting cold feet. Does that ever happen? Somebody asks for help, and then changes their mind?”

“Sure. But it’s not a good idea. He knows what the contract says. If he pulls his support, there’ll be penalties.”

“Penalties? What penalties?”

Ben rolled his eyes at her. “Anderson freaking Green,” he muttered. “Did he tell you anything at all?”

“Would you mind filling me in?”

Ben groaned, like this was the worst burden he could imagine. But he said, “Yeah, I’ll try to explain how things work. Over dinner, because I’m starved.”

It was dinnertime already? Penny checked her phone and was surprised they’d spent so long pouring over the files. Maybe that explained her pounding headache; she was hungry.

Or was it thinking about Rosalee, Nicki and Tina? What their last moments might have been like?

“Penny,” Ben barked at her. “You listening?”

“Yes.” Jeez, the guy was bossy. “Dinner. I’m in favor.”

“Let’s drive to someplace outside Crimson Falls.” Ben pulled the car keys from his pocket. “So we can actually talk about the case without some Demler cousin eavesdropping on us.”

They reached the car. Penny was about to pull the door handle. But she caught sight of her reflection in the passenger window.

A man stood directly behind her, his face looming above her shoulder. She gasped and spun around.

“What is it?” Ben had paused next to the open driver’s side door, frowning at her with that skeptical look.

Penny’s hands shook. Her heart raced. But nobody stood on the sidewalk but her and Ben. “Never mind. It’s nothing.” She got in the car. As they pulled away, Penny looked back at the sidewalk.

Nobody there, she said to herself. That part of Main Street was deserted.

But then why could she still visualize him so clearly? His buzzed hair, the sloping nose, the hard expression. So lifelike and real that she’d felt him, right there. Close enough for his chest to nudge against her back.

Even though it made no sense, she would’ve sworn that Edmund Demler had been standing behind her on the curb.

* * *

The waitress set their drinks in front of them—a soda water with lime for Penny, a Michelob Ultra for Ben. The latest song from Florida-Georgia Line played on the speakers.

“Here’s the basics,” Ben said after taking a sip. “When someone agrees to accept help from the Mercury Group, they have to sign a contract. Usually it’s the homeowner or landowner, wherever the haunting is taking place. But sometimes law enforcement if they’re the ones inviting us in and agreeing to work with us. They promise to give us access for a certain period of time. In exchange, the Mercury Group waives all fees for services rendered.”

“What does Mercury get out of the arrangement?”

“It’s a public service. But also a source for research. Building expertise.”

“And what are the penalties if someone breaks the contract?”

Ben rested his elbows on the table. “They owe us for everything. Expenses, hourly rates. It can get ugly.”

“I had no idea. Anderson didn’t say anything about this side of it.” Fees, penalties. Lawyers. Penny had wondered, vaguely, how someone like Vera paid for the Mercury Group’s services. Those tech vests couldn’t come cheap. And Vera’s business was obviously struggling. But Penny had been so focused on the haunting itself. She’d hadn’t thought much about money changing hands.

Anderson had offered Penny a stipend, though. To cover the money she’d lose by not working for these few weeks. Of course, he couldn’t make things right with her business partner back in Los Angeles—that was a whole separate mess of Penny’s own making.

“If Mercury usually waives the fees, then where does all the money come from?” Penny asked.

“Research grants. Patents. Government funding. Those are just guesses. This isn’t a transparent company, Penny. I’m surprised Anderson didn’t make you sign a contract, honestly. The rest of us? We’ve got an inch of paperwork in our files. I mean, figuratively. Most of the signatures are electronic. But you get the gist. Employment agreement, NDA, indemnifications and assumptions of risk, etcetera, etcetera. I have no idea if it would all hold up in court, but nobody’s ever tried to find out.”

Who are these people? Penny thought. I really have no idea.

Ben pulled at the label on his longneck. “I’m not trying to make it sound all nefarious. Mercury’s good to us. They pay well, they take care of us if we’re injured. Benefits are first rate. Z will tell you the same thing. You just have to be willing to accept that not all your questions will get answers. And let’s face it, when you do what we do—spooky, otherworldly stuff—you’re used to things going unexplained.”

She had to agree with him there.

Penny wanted comfort food, so she ordered nachos. Ben went with grilled chicken and steamed broccoli. The food was decent, but most importantly it was filling. She felt steadier. Even Ben started to relax into his seat instead of complaining or issuing orders. They were officially off duty.

“Have you ever thought of doing something else?” Penny asked. “Having a regular job, I mean. Not related to ghosts.”

Ben laughed. “Is there anything else for people like us?”

“My job is still waiting for me, theoretically.” Penny had asked for a month-long sabbatical, which was absurd considering that they’d only started their new agency a few months ago. But there’d been no other way to accept Anderson’s offer.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re in some kind of marketing? Sales?”

“Public relations. You were close.”

His grin appeared. Ben had a nice smile, when he let it stay instead of suppressing it. “You’re a people person. Like my mother. She says being a medium is a calling. We’re here to ease the transition between life and death, for people on both sides. Don’t get me wrong—I still want a personal life outside work, and a family of my own eventually. But I never considered doing anything else because it wasn’t even an option.”

Penny told him about her father, who’d wanted to be a para-psychologist since before she was born. Her dad didn’t have any ability himself, though. Since her childhood, she’d felt the burden of her father’s expectations. Being a medium was his dream, his obsession. Not her own.

“When I was younger, Anderson Green approached my father,” Penny said. “He wanted to study me. My dad refused.”

“Are you sorry your dad said no?”

“What? Of course not. I hated being ‘ghost girl’ when I was a kid.” Penny didn’t like being cornered. She wanted to make her own decisions for her life, not be forced into accepting some “calling.”

“But you would’ve known other people like yourself,” Ben said. “Non-sensitives? They can’t really ever get what it’s like. We’re always going to be strange to them.”

“Maybe.” Penny thought of her boyfriend Matthew, waiting for her back in Ashton. He would never truly understand this side of her life. He thought she could use her ability when she wanted, yet somehow avoid the more dangerous spirits at the same time. As if being a medium was so easy to navigate.

“Please just tell me there’s not some boarding school full of para-sensitive kids that Anderson is experimenting on right now,” Penny said, only half-joking.

“Ha, I doubt it—probably. But does Anderson take any opportunity he can get to further his work? No question. That’s where he and my mom agree—our work is everything. Doesn’t matter if it makes us happy or fulfilled.”

“But do you trust Anderson?” she asked. “Zandra says she does.”

“Yeah, we all ‘trust’ him, if you mean he’s not actively intending us harm. We’re assets to him. He wants us in fighting shape. Just don’t go thinking that Anderson cares about our hopes and dreams.” Ben huffed a laugh. “Please tell me you’re not that naïve.”

Penny sat back, putting some space between them. Ben had almost seemed like a friend—for about ten minutes.

“You said you wanted to talk about the case,” she reminded him.

“Yeah.” He pushed the rest of his second beer aside. “I thought the files that Lofton provided were a little light. I’ve seen a lot of old case files now, and a huge murder investigation like that one? Multiple victims, a serial killer, having to run new forensics once they realized Demler was behind it? There should’ve been more.”

Penny glanced around the restaurant. Nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. “What do you think was missing?”

“I tried to figure that out, but on the surface, the files cover the bases. I can’t tell what’s missing.”

“Do you think the police just wanted to wrap everything up after Edmund died? To save face, since they’d ruled that the first two deaths weren’t murders?”

“Possible. At the very least, there could be facts we don’t know about. Next time we go into the Demler house, we might get caught off-guard again.”

Penny laughed. “That’s how I’m used to operating. I’ve never felt this prepared to face a ghost before.”

“Anderson hasn’t cleared us to go anywhere. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

No chance of that, Penny thought. She was in no rush to meet Edmund Demler again.

Chapter Fourteen

The cabins were especially quiet tonight without Anderson and Zandra in their rooms. Ben must’ve already gone to bed, because Penny hadn’t heard a creak in the floors for over half an hour.

But once again, just like last night, she couldn’t get to sleep.

She went to her window, pushed back the curtain, and peered out. There was the lake, its surface smooth as glass. And the cluster of trees beside the trail, where the storage shed once stood.

He’d drowned them in a bucket of water.

A shiver of disgust ran through her. What a monstrous way to die. Penny had now heard from Edmund’s aunt, Diane, and read the police files, yet she still couldn’t begin to imagine why he would’ve done those horrible things.

Out by the lake, everything was still. There seemed to be no wind. The ghostly figure of the girl wasn’t out tonight.

Was she one of the victims? Rosalee, Nicki, or Tina? Penny repeated each of their names in her mind. She wouldn’t forget them. So far, the ghost of Edmund Demler had demanded most of their attention. But if the ghosts of those girls were really here somewhere, either in that house or on the grounds, Penny wanted to make sure they were freed.

She imagined them in life, their smiling faces lined up in a row, completely unaware of the terrible future in store for them.

The photos, she realized. Ben had asked her about them earlier—the photos of the girls. Yet Penny hadn’t remembered seeing them until now. Weird. How could she have forgotten them, with their various shades of red hair? Rosalee’s long and straight around a pointed chin, Nicki’s bobbed, setting off her stunning features. Tina’s had been a paler hue, strawberry blonde.

Like my hair, Penny thought. She touched the strands with her finger, wrapping them around her knuckle until the circulation slowed. Her finger ached.

The room was suddenly chilly. Penny walked over to the bed to grab the quilt. She draped it around her shoulders.

“Penny,” someone whispered.

Her pulse jumped. She felt the beats against her wrist. At her neck. She was turned away from the window and the cabin door, but she felt absolutely sure that someone was standing right outside. Looking in at her. Was the curtain still pulled back? Hadn’t she closed it?

There was a quiet knock against the door.

Like last night.

“There’s no one there,” she said aloud.

But there was. She knew it. She knew it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Slowly, Penny turned around. The curtain was closed. But movement drew her gaze to the side. She glanced over and saw herself in the mirror—the quilt around her shoulders, her strawberry-blonde hair tucked beneath. Her cheeks pale and her eyes too wide.

In the mirror, Edmund Demler stood beside her.

Penny screamed. The sound was shrill, a shock to her ears. She ran for the door and threw it open, then ran straight through. Her bare feet thumped on the wooden boardwalk.

Ben’s door opened. He grabbed her, pinning her arms underneath the quilt. “Penny! Penny, what the hell?”

She struggled, still screaming. “Help me, please. My room. He’s in my room!”

“Who?”

“Him. Edmund Demler.” She could barely get the words out. She was hyperventilating.

“Penny? Is that you?” From the other direction, a light appeared. Vera carried a heavy-duty flashlight. She wore a knit cap over her hair and an ankle-length puffy coat. “What in the heavens is going on?”

Ben went down to Penny’s room. Vera and Penny waited outside. Despite the quilt around her shoulders, she shivered uncontrollably. She’d left her coat hanging on the peg just inside her door.

“I thought I saw something. A ghost.” She felt silly saying this, like a child who’d run to her mother and father after waking from a bad dream. Like she wasn’t a medium who’d been seeing the dead her whole life.

But that vision of Demler in the mirror—his image had been so vivid, so present. Penny doubted she’d ever felt so scared—viscerally, primally terrified—as she had in that single moment. Edmund had stared straight into her eyes.

And she’d seen him earlier today, too. In the reflection of the car window. How was that possible? What did that mean?

“A ghost?” Vera said. “Here?”

Ben came back out. “I’m not picking up on any kind of trails, Penny. I’m going to get my EM monitor.” He went to his own bedroom, then emerged a second later holding the equipment. Again, he crossed to Penny’s cabin.

“What’s an EM monitor?” Vera asked.

“Electromagnetic. It detects paranormal activity.”

“But I’ve never seen anything strange in any of these cabins,” Vera said.

After a short while, Ben walked to them, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to tell you. There’s nothing there.”

“I heard the knocking, just like last night. I saw him.”

“Could someone from town be playing a prank on us?” Ben asked. “Sheriff Lofton said people weren’t happy about us being here…”

“It wasn’t like that.” Penny made Ben check one last time, but both the EM monitor and Ben’s own tracking senses found nothing amiss.

“Vera, we’re all right,” Ben said. “Sorry for the false alarm.”

The older woman nodded.

Even when Penny returned to her cabin, she felt no hum of ghost activity in the air. Nothing to explain what she’d experienced just a short time before. Penny grabbed her coat from the hook and put it on. But the shaking didn’t subside.

Ben leaned against her still-open doorway. “You were acting a little odd earlier, at the police station. Are you completely sure you’re up for this assignment? Maybe Anderson’s thrown too much at you all at once. There’s no shame in being in over your head.”

He said it like he hoped it was true. But is he wrong? she asked herself. She really didn’t know.

“When Anderson and Zandra get back, we can see what they think,” Penny said. “Zandra can read me if she wants. I know what I saw.”

Ben lifted his hands. “Fine. There’s a lot to do tomorrow, so I’d like to get back to sleep.”

He thumped back to his room.

Penny was just shutting the door to her cabin when Vera poked her head in. “You sure you feel okay sleeping here? My couch has seen better days, but it’s available. In case you didn’t want to be alone?”

“That would be great,” Penny said, relief flooding her body. “Thank you.”

“If I catch anybody from Crimson Falls prowling around causing trouble, I’ll give them heck. Make no mistake. That would be better than a ghost though, wouldn’t it?” Vera glanced at the room over Penny’s shoulder.

“I guess it would.”

Penny grabbed her phone and a few other things, slid on some shoes—her toes were numb from being outside—and left. She was careful not to look into the mirror or any reflective surfaces on her way out.

They walked to the end of the wooden walkway, then down the steps into the grass. Vera’s house was off by itself near the edge of the woods.

“I’ve been alone here most of the time since Sylas died,” Vera said. “Guests come, of course. But not to see me.”

“You must miss him.”

“It doesn’t get any easier, I’ll tell you.”

Vera’s home stood two stories, built in the same log-cabin style as the rest of Shady Valley. The postage-stamp living room led into a cozy kitchen at the back. Penny took off her coat as Vera shut and locked the front door.

Vera slipped off her own coat, revealing a bathrobe underneath. “I’m sorry about the mess. I hardly ever have visitors.”

“It’s lovely.” The home was cozy and busy with knickknacks. Framed embroidery samplers hung in the living room. The couch already had several throw blankets and pillows, but Vera grabbed a larger comforter and pillow from a closet.

“There,” she said, arranging the bedding. “I hope you’ll be comfortable. My bed’s just right up in the loft, so there isn’t much privacy. If any ghosts arrive to scare us, we’ll both be sure to know.”

Penny laughed weakly. She was still avoiding reflective surfaces, but the vision of Edmund Demler felt very far away. More like a dream than reality. “This is perfect. Thank you, really.”

She sat on the couch. Vera shifted her weight, glancing around, like she wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

“Is that a picture of you and Sylas?” Penny asked, nodding at a frame on a nearby shelf.

“It is! Our honeymoon in Mexico.” Vera scooped up the picture and brought it over. A younger Vera grinned from the image, her arms around a tall man with a military haircut. Penny’s chest tightened at his resemblance to Edmund Demler. But Sylas’s face seemed far kinder.

“I was kind of a dish back then, wasn’t I?” Vera asked. “Sylas used to say I reminded him of Gwen Stefani, with my blond ponytail and red lip gloss. Of course I haven’t aged nearly as well as she did.”

Penny smiled at the photo. “I can definitely see the similarity.”

“Are you married?”

“Not yet.”

“But you’ve got someone you love? A sweetheart?”

“I do.”

Vera touched the image of Sylas with her finger, then replaced the photo on the shelf. “Then hold on to that with everything you’ve got.”

She said goodnight and climbed the stairs to the loft.

Vera had left a wall sconce lit. Penny didn’t switch it off. She lay back on the couch. Her anxiety lessened as she thought of Matthew. She wished he were here, which was a purely selfish desire. And ridiculous, given the job she had to do. She’d built a life for herself in Los Angeles without Matthew in it. Penny had prided herself on being independent—not tied down by her family, or limited by her reputation back home.

But was that really the life she wanted? No. Not anymore.

Matthew had seen her through some of the hardest moments in her life, malevolent ghosts and all. If she asked, Matthew would jump in his car and drive straight here to be with her.

So of course, she couldn’t tell him how much she was struggling. If anything, her ability was even more mysterious to her than before. She couldn’t begin to explain what she’d seen in her cabin, and it unnerved her that Ben couldn’t, either.

Eventually, Penny heard snoring upstairs in the loft. Tomorrow was going to be awful if she didn’t get some sleep.

And she had to pee. Which meant going to the bathroom, where there’d surely be a mirror. Lovely.

The couch springs squeaked as she got up. Vera had pointed out a door beneath the stairs as the bath. From across the room, the sconce painted strange shadows along the walls and floor.

The bathroom door was open by a crack. Penny pushed it inward and saw movement. The mirror was right there, hanging above the sink. She went inside and splashed water onto her face. Vera had an assortment of toiletry items on the counter—electric toothbrush, night cream.

Suddenly, Penny had that same utter certainty she’d experienced in her cabin. He’s there, she thought. He’s watching me.

A beam of the house groaned. Or maybe it was just wind outside—though earlier, the night had been completely still. But she’d thought she heard a whisper hidden in the sound.

Penny.

“Get yourself together,” she said.

She could cower and cringe, which had never been her style. Or she could face him.

Defiantly, she lifted her eyes to the mirror.

Dark half-circles bordered her eyes. Her skin was always pale, and tonight it had an unhealthy tinge. Behind her, Vera’s knickknacks sat on their shelves. The bedding lay in disarray on the couch.

In the bathroom mirror, nobody stood there but Penny herself.

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Tina kept working on Nicki’s diary for another two days. She knew it was definitely a diary now; the notebook entries had dates and described Nicki’s day-to-day thoughts and experiences. It was still in the days before Tina had arrived at Shady Valley.

I tried calling Mom and Dad today, Nicki had written, but I got the answering machine. Do they save my messages? Or just let the machine tape over them? Maybe they’re hoping if they erase every trace of me, that means their slutty daughter never existed at all.

In the last few days, Nicki’s father had come out to Crimson Falls. He’d spoken with Diane and the staff. Tina and the other girls had watched him cross the parking area from their windows. He hadn’t even tried to hide his tears. But why hadn’t he shown Nicki he loved her before? Why did he have to wait until now to come get his daughter, after she was already gone?

That made Tina wonder if her mom and step-dad would come crying if something happened to her, too.

After a while, though, she got tired of working on Nicki’s notebook alone. She couldn’t risk showing it to any of the other girls, because they might tell Diane.

Edmund already knew. She hadn’t seen him again after the library. But Tina couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The mixtape he’d left for her contained twenty songs, ten on each side. There were a couple of Nine Inch Nails tracks from the album he’d been playing as he drove. But there were other bands that Tina couldn’t identify, things she’d never heard before, with moody electric guitar accompaniments and dark lyrics. Plus a couple of sorrowful instrumental pieces, which she particularly liked. Their beauty surprised her.

She found herself wondering what he was doing. She watched the view across the lake, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I don’t have a thing for him, she told herself. That’s not what this is about. She just missed having a friend.

So when she had another free afternoon, she went through the woods to the other side of the lake. She approached Demler Mansion from the rear. That way, nobody at Shady Valley would see. Nicki must have gone the same way when she’d snuck over here before. And none of us realized it, Tina thought.

The day was hot, over ninety degrees. She heard girls shouting by the lake. Splashes as they jumped from the pier into the water. The sounds carried across the valley and echoed back.

Tina looked up at the house. It was built of tan-colored stone, its stories neat and tidy from the back. Curtains were pulled across most of its windows.

“Here goes.” She walked to the back door. Through a little window she could see a hallway. Plain walls, low ceiling.

She tried the door. The knob turned easily. She stepped inside.

Edmund hadn’t told her where to go or how to find him. What if he wasn’t even home? He could be out driving around in Diane’s or Grant’s car, for all she knew. This is stupid, she told herself. Just forget about it.

But instead she walked down the hall, thinking of Nicki coming this way. Edmund had said that he caught her, so she’d been here for some other reason than to see him. But what? Just snooping around? Maybe Nicki would share her reasons in the notebook.

Tina glanced into the doorways as she passed. A laundry room. A storage closet. There were bed linens dumped in piles on the floor, drying puddles of dingy water, and stacks of cleaning supplies that looked untouched. Tina’s mother would never have left things looking this way.

Something creaked in another part of the house. Water dripped into a drain with a metallic clink-clink-clink.

She entered the kitchen, which had oversized yet out-of-date appliances and butcher-block counters. Tina was about to pass through into the next room, a dining room.

But she heard the squeak of a door hinge behind her and stopped.

“Tina?”

She gasped, whirling around. Edmund stood just inside the darkened pantry, hanging back amid the shadows.

Tina put her hand to her racing heart. “What the heck? Are you trying to freak me out?”

“I’m not the one sneaking around.”

“I didn’t see you in there.” Had he been hiding?

“There’s another room.” He pointed his thumb behind him. “Not important. Let’s go upstairs.”

Before she could say anything else, he’d already left the kitchen. She hurried to follow him.

Edmund led her up a narrow staircase. On the second floor, they came out into yet another hallway, this one lined with a plush floral carpet runner and ornately framed pictures and mirrors. In the distance, the hallway opened up, and Tina spied a grand staircase with wrought-iron railings.

Edmund steered her toward a doorway. He paused briefly, twisting an old-fashioned key in the lock, and pushed the door open. “My room.”

He pulled her inside and shut the door.

His bedroom was simple in some ways, just a bed, a chest of drawers, a desk. But it was still huge compared to the tiny cabin that Tina shared with her bunkmates. Edmund’s room reminded her of her bedroom at the old house before her parents divorced, when she’d had a window seat for reading and a bookcase covering half the wall next to her bed.

“Thanks for the mixtape,” she said.

He shrugged. “You liked it?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

His gaze met hers. That secret little smile appeared on his lips, which felt like a victory because it appeared so rarely.

Edmund had a stereo with a double tape deck on his desk. A stack of fresh cassette tapes waited beside the stereo, still wrapped in their plastic film covering. Edmund went over and opened a drawer, which held dozens of tapes. He selected one, put it into the righthand deck, and pushed play.

“I know this one,” Tina said excitedly, “the Cranberries,” then immediately felt like an idiot. Everybody knew the Cranberries.

She walked over to Edmund’s window. He had a perfect view of the lake, where the camp girls were still swimming and horsing around. She still didn’t know what he’d been doing down in the kitchen, but at least he hadn’t been up here staring at other girls in their swimsuits. Plenty of guys would.

“What do you do here all day?”

“Read books. Listen to music. Diane lets me use her computer, and I’m pretty good with Visual Basic. Trying to learn Java. What do you do?”

Tina was still examining the view. She could see some of the cabins, too, and the lodge. Vera walked along the boardwalk holding a stack of towels, her blond ponytail bobbing.

“I read books. Do chores. Try to stay under Diane’s radar, so I don’t get smothered with inspirational phrases.”

“Then we have that in common.”

He was looking at her like he expected her to say something fascinating. But she had nothing.

“I brought Nicki’s notebook.” Tina pulled it from her bag. “So we could work on it.”

He took the spiral from her hand. “First, I want to know why this notebook matters so much to you. Out of all the things in the world you could be doing.”

She scoffed. “Nicki was my best friend. I want to understand what happened to her.”

“Even if you can’t change it?”

“I loved her. I still love her.” She blinked rapidly so the tears wouldn’t fall. “Like she was my sister.”

“Okay.” He handed the notebook back. “Nicki’s lucky that she had you.”

You wouldn’t say that if you really knew me, Tina thought.

They sat on the floor, backs against Edmund’s bed, and began to work. They decoded more of the diary entries, which covered Nicki’s first couple of months at the camp.

Then, finally, Tina found her own name.

Nicki had written: For the first time in ages, today was a good day. Two things happened. One, a new girl arrived and was assigned to the bunk below me. Her name’s Tina and she seems kind of like a lonely puppy dog who’s desperate for a friend. I bet she’s innocent, which is so not me. She’ll probably be shocked by some of the things I’ve done. But she likes Tori Amos, at least. She’s not trying too hard to impress like most of the people here. So I’m going to give Teeny a shot.

Tina’s cheeks burned, wishing she’d decoded this part alone. Nicki had said awful things about the other girls, too. But usually Tina agreed with her.

Edmund said, “First impressions are weird. This isn’t how you seemed to me when we met. But was Nicki wrong, or was I?”

“About which part?”

His arm brushed against her bare knee as he took the notepad from her hands. She was wearing denim cut-offs, and she could see tiny white hairs dotting her thighs.

“I dunno,” he said. “What did you think of me when we met?”

That you were creepy, she thought immediately. Of course, she wouldn’t say that. And obviously she didn’t think that anymore. Otherwise, why would she be here with him?

’Cause you’re like a lonely puppy dog, desperate for a friend? a sarcastic voice asked in her head.

Nicki had been wrong about the innocent part. Tina wasn’t a virgin. She’d lost it with a guy two summers ago. He was a year younger and lived a few streets over. A skateboarder who always had his hoodie pulled up. It had happened fast—his bedroom one afternoon, awkward and exhilarating, his promise that the next time would be better. But when she came to see him again, her stomach all fluttery, he’d pretended to be sick. Wouldn’t even come to the door.

Her worst secret, and she didn’t tell her best friend because she’d been too ashamed.

“I thought you were beautiful,” Edmund said.

Her pulse quickened instantly. “What?”

“When we met. That was my first impression.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, though pleasure coursed through her. He couldn’t mean it, could he? She was nothing compared to someone like Nicki. Gorgeous Nicki, who regaled Tina with tales worthy of the “Say Anything” column in YM magazine.

“You don’t have to believe me. But it’s true.” Edmund went back to decoding. His teeth dug into his lower lip as he worked. The next few lines of Nicki’s diary entry appeared on the translation pad.

The second thing that happened today, is that I met a guy. I don’t know what to think of him yet. Or even if he’s worth thinking about. So for now, I’m just going to say, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Maybe for the first time since I got to this place.

“Was it you?” Tina blurted.

“She wrote this in June, right? I only met her about a month or so ago. It was definitely after the fireworks. July.”

For the Fourth of July, Shady Valley had an Independence Day picnic, capped off by a fireworks show over the lake. Nicki had disappeared for several hours that night. When she came back to the cabin, Tina could smell the beer coming out of her pores. Nicki just laughed and said she was happy and that she didn’t want to share it with anyone. Sorry, Teeny. Not even you.

“Later, right before she disappeared, she told me they’d broken up. But she still wouldn’t tell me his name. We had a fight about it.” It’s why she left, Tina finished silently. It’s why she’s dead.

“And you want to know if the someone was me?”

Tina nodded. She imagined Nicki sitting here with Edmund. What had they talked about? What had they done?

He leaned closer. “Does it matter if it was?” The breath from his words caressed her cheek.

She turned her head to face him. He shifted forward by a single inch. His lips touched hers. Once, then again. Her hand reached out and gripped his t-shirt. She was surprised how solid the muscle felt underneath—like he hadn’t seemed completely real to her until she’d touched the hidden parts of him.

A door slammed out in the hall. Voices laughed and shouted. Tina pulled away from Edmund, breathing hard.

“Who is that?” she whispered.

“My family. You should go.”

He gathered up her things and shoved them into her bag. Edmund opened the door a crack and looked into the hallway. “It’s clear.” He pointed her toward the small staircase again. “Just go straight out the way we came.”

As soon as she reached the woods, Tina leaned back against a tree trunk, closing her eyes. She thought of the words Nicki had written in her diary.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow, maybe for the first time since I got to this place.

That was exactly how Tina felt. And maybe about the same boy. For a tiny fraction of a second, Tina had forgotten to be sad that Nicki was gone.

Chapter Fifteen

Zandra pressed the accelerator on Anderson’s SUV, speeding along the freeway. It was late enough at night that traffic had slowed to a drip. The glowing streetlights whipped past in a hazy blur.

After they’d checked in at the hotel, she’d asked to borrow Anderson’s keys. He hadn’t inquired why; he probably could guess. Her current home base was Albuquerque, where she rented an apartment. She only made it out to Denver a few times a year, and there were certain places she needed to visit, just to see if their effect on her had changed.

Plus, she’d always liked driving.

Back when she was in high school and lived with her foster family—para-sensitives, all of them—the car had been her only escape.

She’d had a lot in common with her foster siblings. They all came from families that couldn’t handle their talents. The house had a big yard, tall trees to climb, and shelves filled with books about how being different is cool. But whenever she was around, the other kids eyed her with suspicion.

Do you think she’s spying on our minds when we don’t even know? They’d ask one another in the next room. She didn’t need any special talent to hear them; the walls were just thin. Nobody came near her, for fear that she’d steal their secrets and tattle to the adults. Because her ability to read auras must translate to spy.

They were afraid of her, just like her own family had been.

And as for her foster parents? They were good people, but they felt the same thing when she came around—caution. They thought she’d report back to Anderson Green if the slightest thing went wrong. Nobody bothered to ask her where her loyalties might lie. Or what she might want out of life. What she feared.

So Zandra spent a lot of time alone. As soon as she’d saved enough money, she bought a cheap used Fiesta and drove, even though she was always running out of funds for the gas. Plus, all that aimless driving wasn’t doing the environment any favors, though such realities didn’t dawn on her as a kid.

Tonight, she had a destination. After a few miles, she took the exit for Colorado Boulevard. Just like old times, she thought. These turns were still ingrained in her mind.

She stopped at a red light, then turned left into a neighborhood. The homes here were stately and sprawling, built in the late nineteenth and early twentieth-century. She drove past a park with a small hill, where she’d sledded on snow days off from school. Long before the foster family, even before she’d met Anderson Green.

Before her talent got to be too much for her parents to bear.

Zandra pulled up at the curb before a huge Tudor. She leaned forward, her breath catching, as a figure walked into the kitchen. The woman had Zandra’s dark hair and high cheekbones.

I want to look just like you, Mommy, she’d said when she was little.

I bet when you’re grown, you’ll be so much prettier, her mom had told her.

Zandra spoke to her parents every six months or so. Conveniently for them, her talent didn’t work over the internet or phone lines. But she hadn’t seen them in person for three years. She’d offered, but they always had something else scheduled.

She almost got out of the car and marched up to the front door, just to see what her mom would do. Would she smile and hug her daughter? Would she cringe away?

She made no move to get out of the car.

In her line of work, Zandra had to face dark things. When she stripped a traumatic memory from someone else, those images remained with her. A part of her, always. Yet somehow she could bear it because she knew she’d relieved someone else of a terrible burden. The memories weren’t really hers.

But if she walked up to her childhood home right now and faced her parents? She’d be able to read exactly how they really felt about her. Their emotions would bleed right into the air. And that was a truth that she couldn’t bear to know.

Her phone chimed. Anderson had texted, saying he still couldn’t reach Kacey Eckert. He’d try again tomorrow. But he’d called the number that Undersheriff Mason had given them. Tina Freeman’s younger sister had agreed to meet them for breakfast.

Sounds good, Zandra wrote back.

You all right? he asked. Need anything before I turn in?

Her headache had faded, and she didn’t feel like discussing her childhood with Anderson. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Anderson was a father figure, but he was the distant, unemotional kind.

Nah, I’m all set, she wrote back.

Bring the car back in one piece, he responded.

Yes, Dad.

Anderson had mentioned his sister at times, but only when it suited the moment. Work was his entire life. Zandra was already trending that way. If she followed Anderson’s footsteps and took on a position as a handler, her future would be set. In more ways than one. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Another text came in, but this time it was Ben. Can you call when you have a chance? he asked. We need to talk.

She punched his number and held the phone to her ear. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Z. Are you at the hotel?”

“I’m out for a drive.”

“Is Anderson with you?”

“It’s just me.” Worry sent tingles along her spine. “What’s going on?”

He sighed. “It’s Penny.”

He explained how, for the second night in a row, Penny had claimed to hear knocking on her door. But tonight, she’d sworn that someone else was in her room with her.

Specifically, Edmund Demler.

“Well, was he?”

“Of course not. I checked her cabin. No trails, no activity, nothing.”

“But this was the second night she heard something?”

“Before, I didn’t think it was necessarily a big deal. I’m not going to report a fellow agent without reason.”

Unlike me? Zandra wanted to ask.

“But after tonight,” Ben continued, “I knew I should tell you.”

“Is Penny okay now? She’s calm?”

“Yeah, I think so. I was going to check on her again—I guess I was a little short with her earlier—but she’s with Vera. Are you going to report this to Anderson?”

She weighed her answer. Anderson needed to know. Mediums had a particularly high incidence of stress-induced hallucinations. But if Penny was having false visions, Anderson would bump her from the case. Zandra needed to speak with Penny first.

“Whatever you decide,” Ben said, “I trust your judgment.”

Zandra laughed. She glanced at the house, where her mom washed dishes in the sink, her mouth moving. Maybe talking to Zandra’s dad in the next room. “Oh please, you don’t trust me. You don’t even like me.”

“That isn’t true.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt, hating the way it confined her. “Be honest, Ben. For once. You’re afraid of me.” Just like everyone else.

He didn’t respond. No surprise there.

“I’m going to tell Anderson,” she snapped, “but it can wait until morning. We’ll probably be back sometime tomorrow afternoon. Hang tight at the cabins until then.”

She was about to end the call. But Ben said, “Z, wait. I need to tell you something else.”

“What?” she spat out.

“It’s about Jay Resnick. My last partner. I’d like to tell you what really happened.”

“Oh.” The reason for Ben’s probation. This was the last thing she’d expected him to confess.

“But it stays between us,” he said. “When I tell you, you’ll understand why.”

“Okay.”

Ben exhaled slowly into the phone. In the house, Zandra’s mom switched off the kitchen light. The street was dark, the inside of the Jeep shadowed and cold.

“Resnick and me go way back,” he said. “Our families are close. Our moms are best friends. Resnick was the one who talked me into joining Mercury. I felt lucky to get partnered with him.”

This would’ve been about five years ago, Zandra guessed. Ben was early thirties, around her age, but he’d gotten started as an agent later.

“For a long time, things were great between us,” Ben explained. “But in the last year, I could tell something was up with him. When I wrote up reports, he told me that I remembered events wrong, that different stuff happened. I thought the problem might be me.”

“But it wasn’t.” She could see where this might be going.

“No. It wasn’t.”

Zandra curled her legs onto the seat, waiting for him to continue.

“Our last case was a polt infestation outside of Salt Lake City. A ghost had thrown the homeowner down some stairs, broken her arm. Turned out to be the next-door neighbor who’d died. He was still angry because of a dispute over their shared backyard fence. Talk about a dumb reason for a haunting, right? Well, Resnick and I went in. Should’ve been an easy clear, but a day into our investigation, I knew that my partner wasn’t acting like himself. He accused me of behaving inappropriately with the homeowner. Flirting with her, sneaking around to see her, which was completely ridiculous. If anything, she was flirting with me. Which is…not relevant at all.”

Zandra felt herself smiling. “Go on.”

“Yeah. Anyway. I told him he was imagining things. He dropped it. We kept trying to clear the polt, but the ghost just wouldn’t listen. Then two days later, Resnick goes after the polt alone and brings half the house down on himself.”

Zandra had heard this part. Resnick ended up in the hospital with broken bones, while his junior partner couldn’t explain what happened. After that, the gossip started to circulate. Inappropriate behavior with a witness—yeah, she’d heard that one.

“In the hospital,” Ben continued, “Resnick tells Anderson this whole story about how it was my fault. He claimed that he saw me bring the homeowner—who was staying with her friend—back to the site to confront the ghost. Resnick said he followed us, and that I provoked the polt, which led to the accident. All of it, completely fabricated. None of that was true.”

“Why didn’t you tell Anderson your side of things?”

“I did. I denied Resnick’s version of events. The homeowner’s statement matched with mine, thankfully, otherwise I wouldn’t have a job anymore. But I think Resnick believed he was telling the truth.”

“Oh, wow. A stress-induced delusion?” Like what Penny might’ve experienced. No wonder the discussion of Penny had brought this story to Ben’s mind.

“That’s what I thought. I went to my partner for an explanation, but he refused to see me. Not long after, his mom called me up. She told me that Resnick’s doctors had discovered a problem during a routine scan. There’s a rare form of dementia that affects the part of the brain associated with para-sensitivity. It’s irreversible.”

Zandra had heard of the condition, but she’d never met anyone that suffered from it. “That must’ve been devastating for him.”

“Resnick is still in denial about it, but he agreed to a leave of absence from Mercury. His family begged me to keep the diagnosis quiet. What else could I do? I agreed.”

So he’d let the rest of their colleagues believe the rumors instead of defending himself with the truth. “Ben. I’m so sorry.”

“Anderson knows I didn’t tell him everything. That’s why I’m on probation.”

“Then why tell me? You think Penny could have this condition?”

“The thought crossed my mind, but it’s not that. Not really.”

She heard his conflicted emotions in his breathing, like he was right next to her instead of miles away. She couldn’t read Ben’s aura—not through the phone—but he felt close.

“I want you to know that I trust you,” he said. “And I hope you trust me. I’m not scared of you, Z. I just don’t want to let you down.”

He said goodnight, and they ended the call.

Zandra made a u-turn and started back toward the hotel. Houses and streetlights flashed by in the windshield.

She had a whole new perspective on Ben. She’d misjudged him. She was glad to know his side of the story, and that he’d trusted her enough to tell it.

But what about Penny? Was there truly a reason for concern?

Penny could’ve hallucinated seeing Demler in her cabin. After Ben’s story about his ex-partner, they had to take that possibility seriously.

But Zandra hadn’t sensed any mental instability or deluded thinking in Penny’s aura. So she also had to consider the alternative—that Penny had not hallucinated at all. She’d actually seen Demler in her room.

Zandra thought of her conversation with Undersheriff Mason just that afternoon—about his twin, whom Mason had seen on the airplane the same moment his brother died hundreds of miles away. A ghost with a deep emotional connection could follow someone for a short period after death.

But Demler had no connection to Penny. And he’d been inside Demler Mansion for decades. The vast majority of ghosts were bound to a location—whatever place held greatest significance in their lives. Sometimes it was the place they’d died, sometimes not. But whatever the source of Demler’s unresolved rage, it was tied to that house.

What am I missing?

She drove along Colfax Avenue, past neon-lighted bars and crowds of people heading into music venues.

Years ago, her ex-partner, Janice, had told her about a strange case. Way before Zandra’s time. A woman claimed that her ex-husband’s ghost was haunting her. She heard knocking in the night, faucets turned on and off, and unexplained shadows glided across the walls. She finally decided to move. But later, she experienced similar phenomena inside the new house. She swore that the ghost had followed her.

A Mercury Group team, Janice among them, had managed to clear the haunting. Janice said the woman seemed to be right—somehow, the ghost had managed to bind himself to that woman, instead of to a place.

“But here’s the really weird thing,” Janice had told Zandra. “I don’t think it was her ex-husband haunting her at all. It was some other ghost who’d never even met her during life.”

Zandra had laughed at her partner’s suggestion. “This story has urban legend written all over it. So many specific factors would have to align that it’s basically impossible.”

Janice had shrugged good-naturedly. “Who knows? All I can tell you is what I witnessed. I saw that ghost’s memories, and he wasn’t her ex. I couldn’t even tell where he’d come from.”

Zandra had dismissed the tale as too far-fetched to be believed.

But now, she wondered. If Edmund Demler could’ve broken free of Demler Mansion—if he could have hitched a ride with a living person, so to speak—why had he waited until now?

And what could he possibly want with Penny?

Chapter Sixteen

It was Christmas, and Penny was home.

She set down her suitcase. “Mom? Dad?” Nobody stood at the reception desk, and the Ashton Valley Inn was quiet. But twinkling lights greeted her, and fresh-smelling evergreen garlands draped over the windows and doorways.

“Matthew?” Her voice echoed.

This was supposed to be their first Christmas together in years. When she left with Anderson for Crimson Falls, she’d promised Matthew that she’d make it back in time for the holiday. And here she was. Demler Mansion and its awful history were behind her now.

She’d completed her assignment with the Mercury Group…though she couldn’t quite remember how. But that didn’t matter. She was home, and everything was going to be perfect now.

But where had everybody gone?

She wandered into the lobby, where a fire crackled in the fireplace. Her parents had hung all the usual decorations—hand-knitted stockings, the glass ornaments on the tree. They had a little Victorian Christmas village that occupied a console table and spilled over onto the bookshelves. Penny touched the smooth ceramic houses and shops and tiny people. When she was younger, she and Krista and Bryce would rearrange the figures, making up silly stories about them.

Where were all the hotel guests? Christmases at the inn were never so silent.

In the dining room, the tables were all empty. The kitchen seemed to be closed.

She headed toward her family’s rooms. They had a wing of the building to themselves. The inn had belonged to the Wrights for generations, the structure growing with the family tree as the years passed.

She found their living room decorated in a homier style than the lobby, without all the cut crystal and fresh evergreen boughs and antiques. But even more memories surfaced—Christmas mornings sneaking in here with Bryce before their parents woke, when Krista was still a toddler. The details were so vivid in her mind’s eye. Like the year that Bryce got the bike that he wanted—he’d been obsessed with BMX—and Penny got a snowboard with a glittery paint job.

In fact—they were right here. The dark blue bike and the purple shimmery snowboard. Penny knelt in front of the tree, giggling. A playset with round plastic animals lay on the tree skirt, too, for Krista.

“You got what you wanted,” her brother said behind her.

“Yeah! So did you!” Penny pulled the snowboard into her lap and hugged it. “I told you Santa was real. There’s no way that Mommy would’ve bought this.”

She smiled and laughed again, but something felt strange. The snowboard was so small. She looked down at her coat, her jeans. This isn’t right, she thought. I’m grown. This was just a memory. Why did it feel so real?

I’m dreaming, she realized.

“This is what you ran away from?” her brother deadpanned. “Such hardship. You poor kid.”

A chill rippled through Penny’s body. The Christmas lights dimmed. Slowly, she looked behind her, her throat tightening.

Edmund Demler stood there, arms limp at his sides. Staring down at her.

Darkness and cold closed in around her. Like she’d suddenly plunged underwater. She opened her mouth to scream, and the coldness rushed in, burning inside of her.

* * *

Panting, Penny stood up. She was in a hallway. It was night.

“What just happened?” she whispered. She couldn’t remember.

Wait, no—she’d been dreaming. A terrible dream. She must’ve drifted off. Seemed strange to do that in a hallway. But it was no wonder she’d had a nightmare.

Tonight was the second night of Devil’s Fest—the music festival that her public relations firm was handling in Eden, a nearby ghost town. So many things had gone wrong at first.

But as of tonight, the festival was back on track, she reminded herself. Everything had gone smoothly, right? The problems didn’t matter. All that unpleasantness was behind her now.

In fact, she’d taken the night off to spend time with Matthew. She was at his house right now. Of course. Now it all made sense.

She stood in front of his bedroom door, hand poised in a fist, about to knock.

The rest of the evening came back to her. She and Matthew had been pretty open about their feelings for one another. Yet when he suggested she use her paranormal ability to help people, she’d sniped at him. But only because she was scared. She’d let her fear keep her from home—keep her from Matthew—for six long years. Wasn’t that enough?

Thankfully, she hadn’t gone back to the festival site in Eden. It wasn’t too late to fix this.

Matthew’s door was cracked, and the light was on. He hadn’t gone to bed. Still, she knocked softly.

“Matthew?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

She pushed open the door. He sat on the edge of his bed wearing an old pair of sweats and a tee, both emblazoned with “Ashton High Eagles, Class of ’10.” His dirty-blond hair hung over his forehead.

“Can I come in?”

His blue eyes traced over her. She wore one of his old t-shirts—it said “Project Prom” in bubble letters—which she’d found in a drawer in the guest room. Her legs were bare.

“Unless you’re tired?” she added.

“I’m not tired.”

That wasn’t exactly an invitation. But she walked into the room, keenly aware of her body, the distance between them.

“I’m sorry I got upset earlier,” she said.

“No, I shouldn’t have pressured you about the ghost stuff. I just thought…”

“It’s okay.” She didn’t want to talk about ghosts anymore. Her heart raced, the beats so fast they blurred together.

She sat beside him. Leaned in; she couldn’t help herself. But before she kissed him, she stopped. This felt wrong. Goosebumps rose in waves on her skin, the prickling so intense it was painful.

Someone’s watching us, she thought. Penny whirled around.

Edmund Demler sat on Matthew’s couch, his legs and arms sprawled casually like he’d been enjoying the show.

“You.” She leaped up from the bed. “You’re in my head. Stealing my private memories. You’re sick.”

“It’s your dream, not mine,” Edmund said calmly. “I didn’t bring us here. Not my fault you’re sex-deprived. Though I shouldn’t talk. I haven’t gotten any for like a quarter century.”

Penny roared in frustration, pressing her hands to her forehead. “Get out!”

He vanished from the couch. Penny turned and found Edmund on the bed, wearing Matthew’s Ashton Eagles sweats. “Sure you don’t want to finish this scene first? It’s straight out of a romance novel.”

She closed her eyes. None of this is real, she told herself. It’s just a dream. Demler isn’t here. Please.

The air shifted. The room had changed. She sat in a cramped, windowless space, with an unyielding concrete floor beneath her. She still wore nothing but Matthew’s t-shirt. Beside her, Edmund leaned his head back against the wall.

“Now we’re in my memories,” he said. “But I don’t think you’ll like those as much.”

“What do you want?”

“Just to talk.”

When Penny was little and had a nightmare, her mom taught her a trick. She shook her head and murmured to herself, “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

Edmund grabbed her wrist. “Penny. Listen. Don’t make me force this.”

She tried again, shouting this time. “Wake up. Wake up!”

But she couldn’t.

She was trapped with him inside of this nightmare room, and she couldn’t get out.

Chapter Seventeen

Zandra followed the maps to the hospital’s neurology department. Then she sat in the nearest waiting room. It was past midnight, far too late for visiting hours. But she was following a hunch.

She scanned the occupants of the waiting room, but didn’t recognize anyone. For about ten minutes, she watched people come and go, until finally a petite girl in a hoodie wandered in with a to-go cup of coffee. She dropped into a chair.

Zandra stood and walked over. “Kacey Eckert?”

The girl looked up in surprise. “Um, yeah?”

“My name’s Zandra Mendes. I was hoping to ask about your sister, Hannah.”

“Are you a journalist?”

“No. I’m a paranormal investigator.” She held out a small card that read, Mercury Group.

Kacey jumped to her feet, her aura surging with alarm. She held Zandra’s elbow. “Do you know something about what happened to Hannah?”

“I might. I’d like to help, if I can.”

“Then we can talk, sure. But not here.”

Zandra had guessed that Kacey would be here because of the girl’s Instagram feed. She’d posted a picture of the hospital waiting room a couple of weeks ago. If I was in a coma and woke up in the middle of the night, I’d want to have somebody who loves me nearby, the caption had said. Wouldn’t you?

Anderson didn’t know that Zandra was here, nor would he appreciate her coming without him. But he was probably asleep right now. The man didn’t need to know everything.

She and Kacey settled on a concrete bench outside overlooking a parking lot, where piles of dirty snow bordered the sides. Electric lights made the pavement glow an eerie yellow. Cars drove past on the nearby avenue, the street still busy despite the late hour.

“Have you been coming here every night?” Zandra asked.

“As much as I can. My mom’s here during the day, and I’m not really speaking to her at the moment.” Kacey squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. “What does a paranormal investigator do, exactly?”

“I’m part of a team that clears hauntings—we make the ghosts leave, basically. And hopefully, we help the witnesses deal with the aftermath of their encounters.” Though Anderson tended to focus less on the second part.

“And you’re here to do that for us?”

“If possible. I’ll need to know what you experienced at Demler Mansion first. I’ve read your statement, and I’ve seen Ross’s video. But I need you to fill in the blanks for me.”

She waited for Kacey to explain what she’d seen, or ask more about the role of a paranormal investigator. But Kacey wasn’t ready yet. Instead, she asked, “Do you have siblings?”

Zandra settled back against the bench. “Yes and no. I’m the only child of my biological parents. But I had six foster siblings.”

“And are you close with them?”

She hadn’t seen that question coming. “I’m not, sadly. I think about contacting them, sometimes. But I haven’t yet.”

“You should. Hannah and I were close when we were younger, but we lost touch. And I wanted…I hoped…” Kacey went quiet. Her aura swirled, then settled. “The trip to Crimson Falls was supposed to be special,” she said. “Which makes it seem worse. What happened.”

“Could you tell me about what you saw the night that Hannah got hurt?”

Kacey cinched her arms around her middle. “We walked to the house. Ross was filming. Hannah cut the lock.” She spoke in a monotone, like she’d repeated this same story many times before. “We went inside, and Hannah and Ross both wanted to go upstairs.” She was getting nervous, starting to rush.

“Did Hannah seem distracted at all? Did she hear things?”

Kacey’s eyes widened as she remembered. “Voices. Yeah. When I told the police, my parents—they got this weird look on their faces. Like they didn’t believe me. But Hannah acted like she really heard someone talking. She seemed to be in a trance. Especially once we got upstairs.”

“Can you recall exactly what she said?”

“She said, ‘He brought her here. But this isn’t where she died.’ I asked, who?” Kacey shuddered. “She said, ‘Tina.’ That’s the name of one of the girls who died. In 1995.”

“What happened next?” Zandra asked.

“A silver shape started growing in the corner. Hannah was moving toward it. Ross said something out in the hall, and then Hannah fell.” Kacey wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I hate that it’s getting easier to say that.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Someone walked out of the hospital, and Kacey quieted. The person’s heels clacked as they went to their car.

“Before that day, had Hannah ever mentioned seeing a ghost?” Zandra asked. “Or sensing a supernatural presence?”

“No, never.”

“What about you?”

Kacey started to shake her head, but then her brows knit. “Um, I did hear something weird inside Demler Mansion that night. Like whispering. I wasn’t sure if it was real. I’ve never seen or heard a ghost before that.”

“What did the whispers say?”

“They kept saying, ‘Wait.’ I think it was a girl’s voice.”

One of the victims, Zandra thought. Penny had heard similar whispers in the house. Was it Tina’s ghost who’d spoken?

Kacey looked at the cars driving past. “I keep wondering what Hannah saw in that house. Sometimes, when I’m sitting with her, I see her eyes move like she’s dreaming. What if it was something terrible?” Her voice broke. “What if she’s scared, and that’s why she won’t wake up?”

Zandra’s heart went out to the girl. She had to do something. “I told you I might be able to help,” she said.

“Yeah. But how?”

“I have a talent for reading memories. In certain circumstances, I can remove a memory from someone’s mind.”

Kacey went still. She doubted Zandra’s word—who wouldn’t, in her shoes?—yet she wanted desperately to believe. “Can we try it now? I could find some way to sneak you in.”

“Hold on. I’ll have to wait until I know more about the haunting.” Specifically, Zandra needed to know the exact memory that the ghost might’ve transferred. “You can’t get your hopes up, Kacey. This won’t be easy, and I can’t make any promises that it’ll bring her out of the coma. I can’t even say when I’ll have what I need to come back here.”

“So it can’t be tonight?” The girl looked crestfallen.

“I’m sorry, no. Not tomorrow, either. I don’t know when.”

Nor did Zandra mention the danger to her own mind if the procedure went wrong. Kacey didn’t need to be worrying about that.

“But you can promise you will come back. That you’ll try.” The girl’s eyes were shining. It didn’t matter that Zandra had told her not to hope.

If I do this, Anderson will be furious, she thought.

But something Penny had said the day before kept bothering her. It’s just a matter of control, isn’t it? Penny had asked. She’d been referring to her own talent, and Zandra had made clear that she herself had no interest in denying who she was. But control came in many forms. Maybe Zandra had let Anderson direct her life and career for too long.

She rested a hand on Kacey’s shoulder. “I promise that I’ll try.”

Chapter Eighteen

Penny sat upright on the couch. Early morning light filtered through the windows. She was back in Vera’s living room. Of course she was. She’d never really left.

“Just a dream,” Penny whispered. “Just a dream.”

But it had felt so real.

She got up and went to the bathroom. Her hands felt jittery, like she didn’t know where to put them. Sweat had left her feeling sticky. Her teeth needed a brush, but she’d left her toiletries back in her room. The water rushed in the sink, cool when she splashed it onto her face. The mirror was right there. She just had to lift her eyes.

But she couldn’t do it.

She’d seen Demler twice yesterday. And again in her dreams. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. This couldn’t be normal. It was like the ghost was inside her head—but how? It was enough to drive a person insane.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. She bit back a scream.

“Penny, are you in there?” Vera asked.

“Yes. Just a minute.”

“Oh, good! I was worried you’d left. Take your time.”

I’ll call Anderson and Zandra, Penny told herself. As soon as I’m back in my cabin.

When she emerged, Vera was bustling around the kitchen. She wore the same bathrobe from the night before. “Morning,” Vera said. “I was just getting the tea going. Or would you prefer coffee? I have some around here, I think.”

“Um, coffee. Please.” She tried to act normal. She didn’t want to scare Vera, not after she’d been so kind. “Need help?”

Vera waved her away. “Please, sit. It’s been so long since I had a guest. Well, I have guests all the time at the cabins, but this is different. Feels like we’re old friends.”

Penny sat at the tiny kitchen table. “It does. Thank you.”

From a nearby room, Penny thought she heard a laugh. Every nerve in her body flared with alarm. What is happening to me? she thought.

Vera didn’t look up from the coffeemaker. “You want to talk about what happened last night? Whatever it was you saw?”

“I’m…sorry about that. Seems so silly in the light of day.” Breathe, she told herself. Breathe.

“Isn’t that always the way?” The coffee maker started gurgling. “You okay with gluten?” Penny nodded, and Vera took a loaf of bread from a cabinet. She dropped two slices into the toaster.

“This ghost stuff is so strange to me,” Vera said, continuing to ramble. She didn’t notice Penny’s discomfort. “I’ve never gotten any supernatural vibes at the old house—not that I spend any time in there. It’s dangerous, and I haven’t had any luck with a construction loan yet. But there’ve been rumors ever since the fire all those years ago. I admit…I know people come here looking to be scared. See the haunted serial-killer house. It seemed harmless, so long as they didn’t go too close. But I could’ve made the fence higher. I could’ve…done more.”

The toast popped up. Penny tried to cover her gasp.

Vera touched the toast, dropping it back down like it had burned her fingers. “Do you think it’s my fault that girl was hurt? Hannah Eckert?”

“You didn’t know…”

“Didn’t she?” a voice whispered at Penny’s back. The hairs on her neck raised.

A knocking sound came from somewhere in the house. Knock. Knock. Knock. She flinched with every sound.

“At least I know I’m doing the right thing now,” Vera said. “If there are ghosts anywhere on this property, I don’t want anything to do with them. I just want them gone.”

“She knew us. We were her friends.” Edmund’s voice was as clear as if he sat in the same room. Penny didn’t dare look behind her. Her hands squeezed into a ball in her lap. “And she wants us cleaned out like we’re the dirt she tracked in on her shoes.”

Penny’s lips quivered. Her knees shook beneath the table.

“I was wronged,” he hissed. “I won’t be erased.”

He wasn’t here. Edmund was inside Demler Mansion. She’d seen him there. This couldn’t be real. Maybe she was still dreaming.

“You’re not dreaming,” he said.

“But you’re not here,” Penny murmured.

Vera was bent over, reaching inside the fridge. She looked over her shoulder. “What’s that, dear?”

“Nothing.” Penny nearly choked on the word.

Vera brought over two plates, each with a slice of toast, along with jam, butter and honey.

“I’m here, alright,” Edmund said. “And I’m not going away until I get what I want.”

She ignored him, focusing on buttering her toast. The coffee made her feel steady, more focused. She didn’t understand why this was happening, why she could hear his voice in her head. But there was an explanation. She’d call Anderson Green, and he’d know what to do.

Yes. It was going to be okay.

“How long will it take, though?” Vera asked.

“How long?”

“Until the…you know, the ghosts are gone?”

Penny could hear Edmund pacing around behind her. “Pay attention to me,” he warned, “or I’ll make you.”

“You should probably ask Anderson,” she told Vera. “He’s the one in charge.”

“I’m the one in charge,” Edmund said.

Suddenly Penny’s hand jerked to the side, sweeping her plate off the table. The dish crashed against the wall and fell to the floor.

“Oh!” Vera cried.

Penny stared at the plate with her mouth open. A crack ran down one side of the ceramic. Her toast had left a wave of crumbs and smears of jam on the carpet.

“I’m so sorry,” Penny rushed to say. She jumped out of her seat to pick up the dish and fallen toast. “My hand slipped. I’ll clean it up.”

“It’s all right. These things happen.” Vera knelt to help her.

“Leave this house.” Edmund was so close, Penny could feel his icy breath at the back of her neck. “Or I’ll make you do something else. Something worse.”

“I’m sorry, Vera, I have to go.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s just…I’m sorry. Thank you for everything.”

A cold hand closed over her wrist on her way toward the door. “Go,” Edmund hissed. She nearly tripped, then righted herself, as she left Vera’s cottage.

Part Two

The Medium

Chapter Nineteen

Penny ran toward the cabins. Damp leaves compressed beneath her sneakers. With shaking hands, she unlocked her door and went inside.

Edmund lay on her bed, ankles crossed, like he’d been waiting for her there. He made a fist and knocked slowly against the bed frame.

“Do you see me now?” he asked.

She slammed the door shut. “Fine,” she said between gritted teeth. “I’m listening.”

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Proving I’m innocent.”

Penny sputtered. “You must be kidding.”

“I didn’t do the things they say. It was somebody else.”

“You didn’t kill Rosalee and Nicki and Tina?” With each name she spoke, he flinched. “You didn’t drown those girls in a bucket of water? And dump their bodies in the lake?” Except Tina. With her, he just left her in the shed.

He cursed, averting his eyes. “No.”

She couldn’t tell if his reaction was from anger that the girls died in such a way, or guilt that he’d been the one to do it. Plenty of guilty people denied their crimes.

Edmund was a liar, his aunt Diane had said, often a convincing one.

“Who did it, then?” Penny asked.

“I don’t know for sure. That’s why I need you.”

“You could have asked for help. Instead you terrified me at Demler Mansion two days ago. You invaded my mind.” He must’ve been stowing away inside of her since she left that house. The thought made her want to crawl out of her own skin. He’d been spying on her thoughts, her memories. She still didn’t understand how it was possible, but that was beside the point.

“And before that, you nearly killed Hannah Eckert!”

His brow wrinkled. “Who?”

“The girl who came to Demler Mansion a month ago.”

“You think time means anything to me? A month is a year is a decade.”

“Hannah is the innocent kid who you lured into the damaged part of the house. She fell through the floor. She’s in a coma right now.”

Edmund rolled his eyes. He obviously couldn’t care less. “I didn’t do anything to her. It wasn’t me. There are other ghosts in that house.”

“It’s always somebody else, isn’t it?”

Penny had met disturbed ghosts before. She’d even faced a ghoul—a monster that fed on human souls. But none had ever been as twisted as Edmund Demler. He wasn’t confused about his death, or absorbed in some kind of delusion. He knew exactly what was happening. And he had powers like no ghost she’d ever seen.

She didn’t know what he truly wanted from her, and she didn’t want to find out.

Penny fished her cell phone from her pants pocket.

“Don’t,” Edmund said.

She unlocked the screen and thumbed to her recent calls. Anderson Green’s number was right near the top.

“I said, don’t.”

Her thumb hovered above Anderson’s number. But she couldn’t bring it down. She imagined raising her mental defenses against him, pushing Edmund away.

“You can’t overpower me.” He got up. Leaned forward like he was facing into the wind. Each step was an effort. Yet he advanced on her.

“You’re going to do what I say, Penny. Whether you like it or not.”

With a cry of frustration, she managed to bring her thumb down sideways. She hit Matthew’s name instead.

The line started to ring. Pick up, she thought. Please, pick up.

“Penn?”

“Matthew—” Penny began, just before she threw her phone across the cabin. It skidded on the wood floor and went into the corner. She glared at her hand like it had betrayed her.

Edmund’s hateful voice came from behind her. “This is between you and me until I say otherwise.”

She rounded on him. “If you think bullying me is going to get me to comply, you’re wrong.”

He stood up from the bed, fists at his sides. “Do you think,” he growled, low and dangerous, “that this is a game?”

Edmund forced her to walk backwards into the bathroom. The two of them barely fit into the tiny space. He wasn’t even really there, yet his presence had a physical weight. His finger pressed to her temple, and his touch was icy cold.

“You think I have no right to be angry?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what burning alive is like? I can show you.”

An image flashed through her mind—flames licking at the walls, smoke thick in the air.

“You don’t know what it is to be trapped,” Edmund said. “To suffer for decades inside a broken house with no one except dead people who scream when I come near. I can show you that, too.”

New images appeared: a girl struggling in water, bubbles spooling out of her mouth.

“Or I can make you feel new pain,” he said. “Fresh pain.”

Unable to stop herself, Penny picked up the pink safety razor she’d left by the bathtub. She held it over her own wrist. Edmund’s threat was clear.

“I can do whatever I want to you.”

“And you expect me to believe you didn’t kill them?” Sweat rolled down her sides. The razor shook in her hand as she tried to keep it steady.

“Rosalee,” she said. “Nicki. Tina.”

“Don’t say their names.”

“Rosalee. Nicki. Tina.”

Edmund cried out, covering his face. He sank to the floor. His lost his mental hold on Penny, and she dropped the razor into the sink.

“You can push me around a little, but you can’t force me to help you. If you could, I’m sure you would’ve done it already.”

“Please,” he whispered. “There isn’t any other way.”

Curled into a ball on her bathroom floor, he looked a lot more like a desperate kid than a killer. She wasn’t foolish enough to think he was harmless. Far from it. But if she was going to find her way out of this, she needed to get through to him. She needed to understand him. At least until she could talk to Anderson and Zandra and get Demler out of her head.

They went back to the bedroom. Penny sat in a straight-backed chair by the small desk. Edmund leaned against a wall, gazing out the window. He was quiet and solemn. No longer trying to provoke her.

Was this some form of possession? Penny had never seen a ghost possess a living person. She hadn’t even believed in it, fully. She thought of the movies where priests performed religious rites to expel demons. But Penny was still herself, still in control for the most part.

“I don’t really get it either,” Edmund said.

“You can hear my thoughts?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then why can’t I do the same to you? Why didn’t I know that you were…with me?”

He shrugged. “Beats me. I’m just making this up as I go along.”

That didn’t inspire confidence. “You’ve been here since I left Demler Mansion, right?” She tapped her forehead.

“I think so. The transition was jarring. It took me a while to wake up. And then, when I realized that I was really out—away from that house—I wanted to learn about you.”

A few of her memories flitted through Penny’s mind—herself as a child, seeing a ghost walk across the lobby of the inn. Crying in the bathroom at school after the other kids taunted her, calling her “ghost girl.” And later, Penny as an adult, facing a powerful ghost during the music festival in Eden.

Edmund had seen these memories already, and was playing them back for her.

“It’s only what you’ve shown me,” he said. “In your dreams. Or your subconscious, I guess.”

She crossed her arms over her middle, feeling exposed. “Why do you want to know about me?”

His eyebrow ticked up. “You’re trying to learn about me. Interviewing witnesses. Reading files. So you can get rid of me. That’s what Vera said. She wants me gone. You all want me gone.”

He took a step toward her. His boot made the floor squeak. But it wasn’t real, was it? That had to be in her head. She rubbed at the skin between her eyes, wishing she could make sense of all this.

“I want you to find peace,” she said. “That’s why we’re here—the team I’m working with. Once we understand why you’re stuck here, we can help you move on.”

Edmund threw his head back, laughing bitterly. “That’s what I’ve been asking for this whole time. Your help finding the truth.”

“Because you’re innocent.” Or so he had claimed.

“Yes.”

She had no idea if he spoke the truth. But he was desperate to be believed.

“I’ll listen to your side of things. But I can’t promise to accept it. And I don’t think you can force me.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I can make you see things,” he conceded, “but only for a little while. I can’t control your mind.” He walked toward her, and his dark eyes searched hers. “But I can show you what I remember.”

Edmund reached out. Cold fingertips caressed her chin.

“Wait.” She wasn’t ready yet. “I need to know something first. You said you didn’t know you could do this—stow away inside a person’s mind.” Possess them, she thought, though she still rejected the implications of that term. She wasn’t possessed. “So how’d you do it?”

“People have been coming near Demler Mansion for a long time. I knew what they thought of me. I wanted to prove to someone that I was innocent, and I tried, but no one could really hear me. Not clearly. They’d get scared away by the others. And sometimes by me.”

“The others? You mean the girls?”

He kept going, as if he hadn’t heard her question. “You and the people you were with—Ben and Zandra—you three were different. More sensitive. More open. I knew what you were. Seers.”

“You’d met mediums before?”

“Just myself. I was one.”

“You were a medium? Before you died?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He said this with a smirk. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to provoke her again. She decided to not to argue.

“But why choose me?”

He smiled wistfully. “Most of the time, the world is so dark when you’re dead. The other ghosts are just depressing; all they think about is how they died, their regrets. Living people are these flickering little lights. So fragile and beautiful. Do you think I was like that, when I was alive?”

She didn’t know how to answer, so she waited for him to go on.

“Ben and Zandra glowed brighter than usual. But you—you were like the sun. I couldn’t help going near. And when I saw you…”

Edmund touched her hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers. Penny fought the urge to pull away.

“You looked so much like her.”

“Who?” Penny asked.

“Tina,” he murmured, the name spoken on an exhaled breath.

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Tina had dish duty after breakfast the next day, but she offered Jasmine her coffee and mandarin oranges for the next week to take her place. “Please?” Tina begged. “I really need the morning off.”

“Why?” Jasmine asked. “What’s this project you’ve been working so hard on? Laurie and I have noticed how distracted you’ve been. We’re not that dumb.”

Really? Could’ve fooled me, Tina thought. That was what Nicki would’ve said. “I’ll tell you later, once I’ve got it all figured out. Please?”

Jasmine agreed. Tina went to their cabin and grabbed her bag, which held Nicki’s notebook and the translation. She’d only added a little since seeing Edmund yesterday.

But she wasn’t so focused on the notebook anymore, anyway. Her insides fluttered as she remembered the kiss. How warm and soft his lips had been. Her skin felt sensitive and prickly and longing to be touched. She’d sat outside the cabin last night after dinner, staring out across the lake until it got dark, thinking of him. Was he looking out his window? Thinking of her?

I thought you were beautiful, he’d said.

He hadn’t invited her back today. But she thought she’d scream if she didn’t go. She just had to see him.

In the back of her mind, she remembered feeling this way about the neighbor guy after she’d lost her virginity. The shame when he didn’t come to the door, having his grandmother claim he had the flu. An hour later, she saw him skateboarding by the park.

But she’d been so much younger and more naïve two years ago. Only sixteen then. Who knew anything at sixteen? Edmund was different.

Besides, they’d only kissed.

She slung the bag over her arm and walked out into the meadow, heading for the trail around the lake.

“Tina!” a voice called out. “Don’t you have dishes to wash?”

Ugh. It was Diane. How did she manage to have the chore schedule memorized for every girl at the camp?

“Jasmine’s filling in for me.”

“Then where are you headed off to?”

Tina thought fast. “The woods. I had an idea for a nature collage.”

“Like Nicki used to do? That’s a fun project.” Diane studied her, playing with the oven mitt that waved from one of her apron pockets. “How are you doing, with everything?”

“Good. I’m fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Diane spoke gently, like she didn’t really believe Tina was fine, but she was willing to indulge in this mutual game of pretend. “I want you to know you can come talk to me anytime. If you’re feeling stressed or upset. Anything at all. Okay?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Tina squeezed the strap on her bag. Her stomach burned.

Diane crossed the meadow and put a hand on Tina’s shoulder. The scent of raspberry and vanilla lotion wafted over, reminding Tina of sitting with Edmund in Diane’s car.

“You’re a sweet girl,” Diane said. She gave Tina’s shoulder another pat. “Don’t stay out too long.”

* * *

Tina went through the woods, skirting around the long way until she could see the back of Demler Mansion. She paused behind a tree trunk, hearing voices. Laughter.

The same laughter she’d heard inside the big house yesterday.

Grant Demler and Mike Lofton were outside playing catch with a football. Both had their shirts off. Grant was tall and dark, with lean muscles etched into his arms and torso. Mike was shorter and blond, just as good looking. Mike had gotten married the summer before to Grant’s sister Andrea. Both men were sheriff’s deputies, in theory. Yet Tina didn’t see them working much. Maybe that was the benefit of Mike’s father being the sheriff. They could goof off and still get paid.

She didn’t want them to see her near the house, so she waited a few minutes as they threw the ball back and forth. Finally, Andrea—Grant’s older sister and Mike’s wife—came out of the house, a screen door slamming behind her. Her pregnant belly stretched the middle of her one-piece swimsuit.

Mike hooted when he saw her, snatching her into his arms and lifting her up. Andrea protested weakly for him to put her down, but Mike didn’t listen. He spun her around and around until she screamed.

“Isn’t she the sexiest Mama you’ve ever seen, G?” Mike asked.

“Gross, man. That’s my sister.” Grant made gagging noises while the other two laughed. They headed down toward the lake, flip-flops snapping.

Once they were out of sight, Tina hurried to the back door of the house. Just like yesterday, it was unlocked. Seemed like the Demlers never locked it.

Inside the kitchen, she paused, thinking of how Edmund had been in the pantry yesterday. The kitchen lights were off, and watery sunlight trickled in through a high window. The pantry was even dimmer. She walked toward it, making out shelves covered with cans of beef stew and plastic bags of egg noodles.

Someone was humming. It was one of the songs from her mixtape.

“Edmund?” she whispered.

She went further into the shadows of the pantry. There was a faint line of yellow in the opposite wall. Like a door, with light leaking from the thin gaps around it.

She pulled the handle and peaked inside.

It was a tiny, windowless room, with a single light bulb hanging overhead. Edmund lay on a narrow cot, knees pulled to his stomach, eyes closed. Orange headphones covered his ears. She’d have thought he was sleeping, except for the melody he kept humming.

Tina crept into the room. “Edmund?” She reached out and gently touched his hand.

His eyes flew open. He scrambled backward, slamming against the wall, chest heaving.

“Sorry,” she choked out, turning for the door.

“Wait.” Edmund leaped up. He slammed the door closed before she could leave. He was still catching his breath. “Don’t go. I’m sorry.”

“I heard humming. I thought it might be you. But I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not feeling well today. You just surprised me.”

“Are you sick?”

He braced himself against the wall. “Not sick. It’s just…something happened earlier.” She waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want her to know.

“I brought the notebook,” she said. “But I can go if you’d rather be alone.”

“Stay,” he said, though he still wasn’t looking at her. Edmund scooped his headphones from the floor where he’d dropped them, and went back to the cot. “Sit with me? I…need a minute.”

Tina set her bag on the floor. She sank onto the thin mattress of the cot, back against the wall. He positioned the headphones so they could each listen, their shoulders pressed tight together. Melancholy instrumental music played, the notes discordant. He reached for her hand and gripped it like he’d fall if he didn’t hold on.

His breathing slowed, and she felt his shoulders relax.

After they’d listened to a couple of tracks, Tina asked, “What is this room?”

He pressed pause on the Walkman. “I was born here.”

“Really?” She looked around again. It seemed more like a prison cell than a place for giving birth.

He told her about his mother. How she ran away and got pregnant, and when she came back, his grandmother hid her away. “For a while, they told people I wasn’t a Demler.”

“But you look just like them. Grant especially.” Tina felt herself blushing as she said it. Not because she was thinking of Grant, so much—she was remembering him without his shirt and wondering how Edmund would look without his.

“You should stay away from Grant,” he said.

“Why?”

“He messes around with camp girls all the time. You’re better than that.”

“No way.” She realized how that sounded. “I mean—the first part. I’ve never seen Grant with any camp girls. Everyone knows we’re supposed to stay away from you guys.”

“But you’re here with me.”

True. Nicki had spent time with Edmund, too. Though Tina still didn’t know how much.

“Did you see anyone in the kitchen?” Edmund suddenly asked.

“The kitchen? Like who?”

“A woman? She’s small. And young, I guess younger than us.”

He couldn’t mean Diane. Edmund had gone still, waiting for her answer.

“Andrea is outside with Grant and Mike.” Tina didn’t know of any other women or girls who lived here at the big house. And Diane didn’t even stay here, usually. She slept at the cottage by the cabins with the other staff.

He hunched forward like he was deflating. “I guess we should work on the notebook.”

“Sure. Okay.”

He was being really weird. But she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay and find out what he’d meant—or anything he felt like telling her, really. So she’d understand him.

For a while, they worked on decoding different pages. Then Edmund said, “Look at what Nicki wrote here.”

Tina read his newly completed paragraph. I saw the guy again today. We smoked weed and made out, though clearly he’s eager for more. He insisted that I keep him a secret, and I was all, but why?? I made him convince me it was for the best. He said we’d get in trouble if we were found out, blah blah blah. Like I didn’t know any of that. But he promised to take me out on a real date in another town to make up for it.

Whoever it was, the guy broke her heart, and Nicki still wouldn’t tell Tina his name. Nicki must’ve really been hurting. Tina felt the familiar pang in her chest, the tightness that came whenever she thought of her last conversation with her best friend. That stupid, stupid fight.

“Who was he?” Tina wondered aloud.

Please say it wasn’t you, she thought. She’d already asked him before, and he hadn’t quite denied it. But Nicki had met her boyfriend in June, right? And Edmund said he’d met her in July.

“Are you thinking about her?” Edmund asked.

Tina nodded, too close to crying to speak.

“She was funny,” he said. “Made me laugh.”

“Nicki cracked me up too.” Tina searched her memory, but couldn’t recall ever hearing Edmund laugh. Not with her.

“Would you want to see Nicki again? If you could?”

Tina squinted at him. “What do you mean?”

“If you could talk to her, and she could tell you the things she held back before—even tell you how she died—would you do it?”

Quiet fell over the small room. They’d just been talking about laughing, but Edmund didn’t seem to be joking. Instead, his eyes held hers, his expression plaintive. As if he’d asked her a crucially important question.

“You mean her ghost?” Tina said softly. “Like you were talking about at the Falls?”

Edmund had claimed to see his mother, though she’d died years ago. Tina had decided that he was speaking metaphorically, of memories or the past in general.

“Have you really seen one?”

“They’re not usually see-through, like in movies. They’re more like old photographs. Faded.” Edmund’s voice was so low Tina leaned in to hear him.

“Do they talk to you?”

He bent one knee, foot resting on the bed, and his shadow moved against the opposite wall. “Not directly. But sometimes, I can see what they’re thinking about. It’s usually something sad.”

“Wow,” she said on an exhale. She’d never met anyone who’d seen a ghost before. “Is it just here? This house? Or…”

“Everywhere. Out in the woods, in town. The library the other day. It’s like they come and find me.”

“Wow,” she said again. She didn’t know what to say.

“Do you believe me?”

“I want to. It’s just…hard to understand.”

“When I was little, I thought everybody could see them. I told Diane every time I saw my mother. She said I shouldn’t make up things like that. She said, ‘Telling lies hurts the teller most of all.’ So I stopped talking about it.”

“Then why are you telling me?” she asked softly.

He turned, fixing her with a troubled gaze. “Because I saw Nicki. This morning.”

“What?” Tina jumped up from the cot. Tears hovered on her eyelashes, threatening to fall. “If this is some kind of joke, it’s not okay.”

“I wouldn’t. I swear, Tina.”

“You’re serious? For real?”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

She blinked the tears away. “Where did you see her? Tell me.”

“I can show you. If you really want me to.”

“Yes. Show me.”

Chapter Twenty

Matthew Larsen stared at the phone in his hand. Penny had just hung up. He tried to call back, but Penny didn’t answer. Her voicemail picked up.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you’re all right. Call or text me when you have a chance? I love you.”

His dog Crosby looked up at him, tail wagging. Ready to start the day. He’d slept a little late this morning. In fact, Penny’s call had woken him.

She’d said only a single word before the call disconnected: his name. Yet he’d heard panic in that single word. Something was wrong.

Now what? he wondered. Could she be in trouble in Crimson Falls? And if she was, what should he do?

He swung his legs off the bed. Crosby followed as he went into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and tried to think.

He hadn’t been thrilled about Penny’s temporary assignment with the Mercury Group. She’d been through a lot in the past few weeks, and she barely knew this Anderson Green guy. But Penny had felt sure that Green could help her get control of her ability.

Going to Crimson Falls, though, and venturing into Demler Mansion? Matthew didn’t know much about the paranormal, but the ghost of a serial killer didn’t sound like anything he’d want to mess with.

Matthew hadn’t heard from her at all yesterday. He’d tried not to worry about it. She was busy, and he wasn’t the type of boyfriend to need constant affirmation or reassurance. He was a grown man, not some insecure kid. Yet every haunting that Penny had faced recently had been dangerous. He wanted to make sure she was all right.

He tried calling her again. Straight to voicemail. He didn’t leave another message.

Instead, he pulled up the number Penny had given him for Anderson Green.

“Penny won’t like this,” Matthew said to his dog. Crosby looked at him, head cocked to one side. “In fact, she’ll probably be pissed.”

He’d been in love with Penny since middle school, and he didn’t want to mess this up. Penny was fiercely independent—had been since childhood. Matthew trusted her to handle herself.

But the real problem was that Matthew didn’t trust Anderson Green. They hardly knew anything about Green—except for the fact that he’d been spying on Penny recently, even going so far as to get information from Krista, Penny’s sister. Anderson claimed that he’d had a good reason. Penny seemed to have forgiven the overstep, to the extent that she got annoyed whenever Matthew brought it up.

But if Anderson assured Matthew that she was fine, would Matthew believe it? Probably not. So there was no point in calling.

He opened the browser on his phone and searched for “Shady Valley Crimson Falls.” A website came up, and Matthew found the contact info.

On the third ring, a woman picked up. “Shady Valley Resort, this is Vera. How can I help you today?”

Matthew walked into the living room, unable to keep still. Crosby followed along behind him. “Uh, hi Vera. My name’s Matthew Larsen. My girlfriend is staying there right now. Penny Wright?”

“Of course! I just saw her this morning.”

“You did? Is she all right? I just got an odd call from her and it cut off. I was…” Now he sounded like an overprotective boyfriend. “Just a little worried.”

“Aren’t you sweet? She did seem a bit flustered when she left. She broke a plate by accident, and she rushed out of here. I thought she was embarrassed. If you talk to her before I do, tell her it’s no big deal. And that I enjoyed having her stay with me.”

“She’s not staying at the cabins anymore?” He tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

“Oh, she’s back in her own room I think. But last night, she was pretty frightened. I’ll let her explain it to you. It was lovely to have her as a roommate for a little while, that’s all.”

He didn’t understand. She’d been frightened? But at least it sounded like Penny was safe. He thanked Vera and said goodbye. He shoved his phone into his pocket and went to grab Crosby’s leash. The Australian Shepherd joined him by the door, her furry tail wagging eagerly.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. “Maybe that’ll clear my head.” He had to stop worrying so much.

But before he could step out of the door, Matthew’s phone rang. He exhaled with relief, thinking it was Penny, until he saw Bryce’s name on the screen. Penny’s older brother.

“Bryce? What’s up?”

“Have you spoken to Penny?”

Matthew’s stomach made a nauseating swoop. “Why?”

“I…” Bryce cleared his throat. Matthew heard talking in the background. It was Eliza, Bryce’s girlfriend.

“You have to tell him,” Eliza said.

“What the heck is going on?” Matthew demanded.

“I’d rather talk about this in person. Can we meet at the inn?”

“Yeah. But Bryce, I’m not going anywhere until you say what this is about. Why are you asking about Penny?”

“Because I had a dream about her.”

Matthew knew what that could mean. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

* * *

Matthew walked into the dining room of the Ashton Valley Inn. The breakfast crowd had gone, and it would be another hour or two before lunch, so the place was quiet. Penny’s older brother Bryce and his girlfriend Eliza had already claimed a table at the back. Krista—Penny’s sister—stood up and hugged Matthew hello.

“Mom and Dad are on their way,” Krista said. She wore her usual neon running shorts, despite the freezing temperatures outside.

“It’s a full-on family meeting?”

“We thought that would be best,” Eliza said. She rested her elbows on the table. “So that Bryce can explain it to everyone at once.”

Matthew’s nerves were already on high alert, but Bryce’s expression had him near panicking. “Is it that bad?”

He’d tried calling Penny again on his way to the inn. No answer.

“I’m not sure,” Bryce said. “It’s impossible to tell. But maybe.”

Matthew swore, dropping into his seat.

He and Bryce had been best friends pretty much since the day that Matthew moved to Ashton when he was fourteen. The same day that he’d met Penny and couldn’t take his eyes off her, though it was a few more years before he really starting pining for her. But he’d felt drawn to the entire Wright family, too, like they had their own gravitational pull. Everything was bigger and louder and more vibrant within the Wright family sphere—their home, their holidays, even their arguments. After Matthew’s mother died a few years ago, Debbie Wright had been the one to check up on him, make sure he got out of bed before noon, keep him fed.

So yeah—this family meant everything to him. Penny’s family was his family, too.

Penny’s Mom and Dad, Debbie and Lawrence, arrived. Debbie said hello to Eliza and gave Matthew a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s that adorable dog of yours?”

“Crosby’s guarding the house.” Which meant sprawling on the living room couch and barking at the neighbor’s terriers through the window.

The six of them sat around the table. “Shall we get straight to it?” Debbie asked. Her earrings danced—today, tiny jewel-colored autumn leaves.

Krista nudged her brother’s arm. “Just tell us, Bryce.”

He ran his fingers through his dark hair, a tic he fell into when stressed. “I had a dream last night.”

Penny wasn’t the only member of her family to possess unusual abilities. Despite their years of friendship, Matthew had only learned about Bryce’s talent about a month ago. Apparently, Bryce had been having prophetic dreams since he was a teenager. He said these dreams were far more vivid than his usual ones, and they had an uncanny tendency to come true. Not long ago, one of Bryce’s dreams had warned that Eliza was in jeopardy. Because of that dream, Penny was able to intervene in time to save Eliza’s life from an extremely messed-up ghost.

“I dreamed that Penny was in some kind of a ruin,” Bryce said. “A house. Burned on the inside. It was night.”

“Could it have been the old bank in Eden?” Matthew asked hopefully. Because that would’ve been the past. Nothing about the future.

But Bryce shook his head sadly. “Sorry, man. This was a different place. It had been a bedroom once, I think. There was a hole in the middle of the floor, like it had collapsed. Penny was trying to keep from falling in. She could hardly see, it was so dark. She felt trapped, desperate to find a way out. And she wasn’t alone. There was a guy there, young, maybe twenty? She was afraid of him. He was…” Bryce closed his eyes. Eliza put her arm around his waist. “Controlling her, somehow,” he continued. “She begged him to let her go, but he refused. Not unless she did what he wanted.”

“This man was controlling her?” Debbie repeated.

“Moving her body. But there was more he wanted from her. Something she had to agree to do. I realize that doesn’t make a lot of sense. That’s just what I saw. Penny didn’t want to be in that room, but she couldn’t stop herself.”

Dread coiled in Matthew’s chest.

Krista took out her phone. Her thumb moved across the screen. “Was this him? The man in the room with her?”

She turned her device and showed them a picture of a guy with buzzed hair, a long nose. A dead-eyed stare.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Bryce said.

Krista put her screen facedown. “That’s Edmund Demler.”

Matthew swore. They all knew that Penny’s assignment involved a haunting at Demler Mansion. But Penny was supposed to be working with a team. They were supposed to protect her.

Matthew had seen Penny’s mind get overwhelmed by a disturbed ghost before. But someone like Demler? A sadistic killer? Matthew hadn’t wanted Penny to take the assignment with the Mercury Group at all, but this was so much worse than he’d imagined.

Penny’s father, Lawrence, spoke. “Maybe I pushed her too much to use her ability. I thought she was ready, but—”

“Now, let’s stay calm,” Debbie said. “There’s a lot we don’t know yet. Penny texted me when she arrived in Crimson Falls, but not since. Has anyone spoken to Penny recently?”

They all looked at Matthew. “This morning I got a strange call from her. She sounded upset, and then the call cut off. I spoke to someone at her hotel who said Penny’s fine. She’s there. But—”

“So Bryce’s dream hasn’t happened yet,” Debbie cut in. “We have time.”

Krista lifted her phone again, punched the screen, and held it to her ear. Matthew could hear the line ringing. A voicemail picked up. “Hey, this is Penny, leave a message.”

“I haven’t been able to reach her, either,” Matthew said.

Krista ended the call and squeezed her phone in her hand. “I could call Anderson. I have his number. But that would mean telling him about Bryce’s dream.”

Aside from Matthew and Eliza, no one outside the Wright family knew about Bryce’s ability.

“I don’t care about outing myself if it would help Penny,” Bryce said.

“But we don’t know Anderson Green’s true motives,” Lawrence said. “It’s my fault he ever heard about Penny’s ability. If he does something to put her in jeopardy—”

Debbie placed her hand over Lawrence’s. “I’m concerned, too. But let’s not jump to any conclusions. She’s not a little girl anymore. Penny chose to take this assignment, even though she knew it might have risks.”

“And my dreams don’t always come true,” Bryce reminded them.

“You can’t have it both ways,” Krista retorted. “If the dream didn’t mean anything, you wouldn’t have told us.”

“I know. I’m worried about her. But Mom’s exactly right; we don’t know yet what’s really going on. We have to talk to Penny first.”

“But we can’t reach her.” Krista stood up, slamming her hands against the tabletop. “If Penny’s in trouble, we help her.”

“I agree,” Lawrence said. “We drive to Crimson Falls. Right now.”

Bryce groaned. “I knew this would happen. You guys would freak out and immediately overreact. We need to slow down.”

“But Penny would help any one of us if the situation were reversed,” Eliza said softly. “Even if the danger wasn’t certain. You know that’s true.”

Debbie put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “What do you think? You probably know Penny better than any of us these days. And you love her just as much.”

“Yeah. I do.” He loved her more than anything. His muscles tensed, telling him to do something. Help her. But what?

Matthew knew what he wanted—to head straight to Crimson Falls with Krista and Lawrence.

But what about Penny’s wishes?

Matthew was a problem solver. Ever since he’d graduated high school, he’d been working in construction. Whenever an issue came up with a project—measurements that wouldn’t add up, unexpected delays—he was the guy who’d find a solution. But Penny wasn’t a project.

If he showed up in Crimson Falls and this was a false alarm, he’d be undermining her in front of the Mercury Group people. She’d be furious.

Angry enough that he’d lose her?

He really didn’t know.

But the bigger problem? Wherever ghosts were involved, Matthew couldn’t fix things for Penny. He was powerless. Everybody sitting at this table was powerless when it came to the paranormal, even Bryce. They’d always relied on Penny to do the saving.

“We wait,” Matthew said. “Because Penny would want us to. We keep trying to reach her so she knows about Bryce’s dream.”

Bryce nodded, looking relieved.

Krista sighed. “Fine. But I hope we’re not making a mistake.”

Me too, Matthew thought. “If we haven’t heard from her by tonight, then we’ll decide what to do.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Zandra waited in the lobby for Anderson. She’d been up late last night, and then early this morning. But she never slept much when she was on a case.

Be down in 5, Anderson texted. Hungry?

She’d already run three miles and lifted weights in the hotel fitness center, then chased her workout with a protein bar that she’d brought on the trip. Ben would’ve been proud. Yep, she texted back. Starved. Eggs Benedict?

If you can get it in a drive-thru.

She rolled her eyes. How could a man who dressed so well eat so cheap?

Her phone rang. It was Ben, calling her back.

“Hey,” Zandra said, “how’s Penny this morning?”

“Back at her room. I was going to knock, but she’s talking to someone. Probably her boyfriend on the phone.”

“No more sightings of Demler?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. Have you mentioned anything to Anderson?”

“Not yet.” Zandra chewed her lip. A family walked by, wheeling suitcases outside to a waiting cab. “I will. But the issue doesn’t seem urgent, I take it?”

“Nah. We’re good here.”

“Thanks, Ben. I appreciate it.” She put down her phone, relieved that Penny was doing better this morning. Zandra thought about calling Penny’s number so they could discuss what happened. But Anderson strolled out of the elevator, his overnight bag hanging over his shoulder. He walked toward the exit doors, and Zandra fell into pace beside him.

“No time for drive-through,” he said. “I checked traffic, and it looks ugly. We’ll eat after the meeting with Tina Freeman’s sister.”

Too bad Zandra hadn’t packed an extra protein bar. “Sounds good.”

“I still haven’t heard back from Kacey Eckert,” he said, “so no progress there.”

“Oh—” Zandra started. Anderson cocked his eyebrow.

She was about to tell him that she’d found Kacey Eckert last night at the hospital. But she hadn’t learned anything ground-breaking from Kacey. Instead, Zandra had promised to help bring Hannah out of her coma.

After Anderson already forbade her from trying anything like it.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“I was just thinking, it’s probably best for us to head out soon anyway.”

Anderson glanced at her sideways. “You in a rush to get back to Crimson Falls?”

“Not exactly a rush. Penny needed to speak with you about something, and I’ll let her explain it when we get back. I’m just trying to keep things moving forward.”

Anderson smiled at her approvingly. “The perfect mindset for dealing with traffic.” He tossed her the keys. “You can drive.”

* * *

Tina’s sister lived in a towering apartment building on the west side of downtown Denver. Corinne Montgomery was a curvy woman in her twenties, wearing a black skirt and a white blouse. She had a view of the city’s skyscrapers from her living room.

“Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice,” Anderson said.

“I work from home, so it wasn’t too much trouble. But more importantly, Ron Mason vouched for you.” The former undersheriff they’d spoken to yesterday. “I don’t talk to journalists about my sister if I can help it,” Corinne explained.

She gestured for them to sit at her dining table. A laptop and a stack of files occupied one end. “I’m a contract attorney. Benefits are nonexistent, but the schedule is flexible.”

Her apartment was striking in its plainness—white walls with no personal photos; few mementos on the tables. Zandra sensed a deliberate choice, rather than a lack of design sense. Corinne was a woman who didn’t believe in permanence. Anything could change at a moment’s notice, and she wanted to be ready.

Corinne smiled wearily. “What can I tell you about Tina?”

“I mentioned on the phone the kind of investigations that we do,” Anderson said.

“Yes, I remember. The paranormal kind.”

“When we spoke to Ron Mason yesterday, he said you’d asked him whether Demler Mansion is haunted. I’m curious why.”

“Tina left a notebook.”

“Oh?”

Corinne paused, glancing at the city view through her window. “I never really knew my sister. She was a teenager when I was born. I’m her half-sibling, and she wasn’t happy about our mom’s new marriage to my dad. Tina ran away from home when I was a toddler. The murder defined my whole childhood—my parents’ grief and guilt, the media attention. It pretty much destroyed our mother. I didn’t even know about the diary until after Mom passed away. She had it in a box at the back of her closet.”

Corinne got up, went into another room, and returned with a small notebook. Its spiral binding had bent out of shape, and tape held the cardboard cover in place. She gently lay it open on the table.

“For a long time, I resented Tina for taking up so much space in my life. But now, I just wish I’d had more time with my sister. There’s so much I know about her, but so much I don’t know. Does that make sense? What she was like, what mattered to her. The real person, not the version of her in the media. When I found this notebook and started to decode it, I felt like I had a little piece of Tina back.”

She paused to delicately wipe at her eye.

“The writing is in code,” Corinne said. “Nicki Ember wrote the first part—Demler’s second victim. She was also Tina’s roommate at Shady Valley.” Corinne flipped the pages, and a different handwriting appeared. “The second part, just a couple of pages, Tina wrote herself. I’m not sure if my mother read it. If she did, she didn’t keep a decoded copy. So I took this over to Central Library, and they helped me figure it out. It’s not a complex code, just something out of a book. I offered to make a copy for Nicki’s family, but they didn’t want it. Too many upsetting memories, I guess. But for me, it felt like getting to know my sister, even if only through Nicki’s eyes.”

Corinne reached the back of the notebook, where she’d tucked several folded sheets of computer paper, printed with text. “This is the decoded version. You’re welcome to read it. Or I can tell you…”

“Please,” Anderson said.

Corinne set the pages on the table. “Nicki describes being unhappy at home. There are hints that she was sexually active at an early age, maybe involved in some drugs. From her writing, she seems smart and creative and funny, but she clearly lacked a support system. She left home and wound up at Shady Valley Camp a couple months before Tina would. Nicki describes how they became friends, and what it was like living at the camp. She also mentions meeting someone. A man.”

While Corinne spoke, Zandra scanned over the printed pages. I don’t know what to think of him yet, Nicki had written. Or even if he’s worth thinking about.

“Nicki never referred to him by name. But it was clear he lived nearby. He had a car, or access to a car. He was older. And he wanted their relationship to be a secret.”

“Edmund Demler,” Zandra supplied.

“Right,” Corinne said. “That’s what I’ve always heard—that Demler seduced Nicki into trusting him so he could kill her. And then he did the same to my sister. Only…I found myself questioning what I’d heard before about the case.”

“How so?” Anderson asked.

Corinne touched the worn cover of the notebook. “You ever listen to those true-crime podcasts?”

Anderson glanced at Zandra. “I’ve heard of them,” Zandra replied. She got enough death in her day job, though.

Corinne nodded. “They’re not as entertaining when they’re about your own family. But I get the draw, I really do—that excitement of thinking you could see something different in an old case? That’s what I felt when I read Tina’s part of this diary. She was actually trying to investigate Nicki’s death. Tina said that she believed Grant Demler, Edmund’s uncle, was the real killer. I thought—hoped—that maybe she’d died doing something noble. Trying to help her friend.”

She paused and closed her eyes, like she was struggling hard not to break down.

“When I asked Ron Mason about it—since he was the undersheriff back when they were investigating the case—Ron said that Grant had an alibi for Tina’s murder.”

Zandra turned to her boss. “Anderson, was that in the file at all? Grant being a suspect?”

Anderson shook his head. “I’d need to check with Ben, but I don’t think so. Corinne, did Tina explain why she believed Grant was Nicki’s killer?”

Corinne laughed sadly. “This is the really strange part. Honestly, I don’t even know what to make of it. Edmund claimed that he’d seen Nicki’s ghost at Demler Mansion.”

Zandra looked up from the translation pages. “Her ghost? That’s what Edmund told Tina?”

“I even wondered for a hot minute if that could be true,” Corinne said. “That’s why I asked Ron Mason about any signs of haunting. But Edmund must’ve been toying with my sister the whole time. Playing some twisted game, pretending he was getting these messages from beyond the grave, knowing he was the one who really killed Nicki. It’s sickening. That’s why I’ve never shared this with the media. It’s too awful to think of Tina getting fooled this way. That’s the sad reality about opening up old cases—most of the time, there’s no big conspiracy. It’s just the guy they thought did it all along. The truth is more simple and more brutal than anybody wants to believe.”

“But what if it is true?” Zandra asked.

“What’s true? That Demler’s innocent?” Corinne was incredulous.

“No—that he was a medium.”

“I guess that’s your department.” Corinne hesitated, then asked, “Do you think my sister is haunting Demler Mansion?”

Hannah had said the name “Tina.” And the poltergeist had the voice of a young woman.

“We don’t have enough information to know that yet,” Anderson said.

“But if she is…could I talk to her?”

“I’m afraid that’s not the sort of thing we do.”

“Sure, I understand.” Though her expression said the opposite. Corinne looked down at the notebook. “I’ll print a copy of the decoded pages for you. It’ll just be a moment.”

She got up and carried her laptop into a different room.

“If Demler was a medium,” Anderson murmured, “that would explain several of our quandaries. Ross’s transferred memory, for one. And the strength of the ghosts when Ross, Hannah and Kacey entered the house.”

“You’re saying Edmund didn’t need to draw energy from a medium, because he was already a medium himself?”

“Precisely. Not to mention Demler’s apparently high level of sentience. Penny said he attacked her at the house, mocked her, as if he wanted to frighten her.”

Penny.

Demler had attacked her.

A dozen different facts and details sped through Zandra’s mind at once. “Oh. Oh, no.”

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Anderson asked.

Corinne returned with the papers just as Zandra shot up to standing. “We have to get back to Crimson Falls. We screwed up. I screwed up.”

“What?” Corinne asked. “I don’t understand.”

Zandra accepted the papers and apologized. “We just have to go.”

Anderson trailed her to the door and placed a hand on her arm. “Z, slow down. Explain this to me. What’s happened?”

She couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “Penny thinks she saw Edmund Demler in her room last night. Ben swore he didn’t sense any spirit trails there. But if Demler was a medium himself during his life—”

“Even then,” Anderson said. “It’s unlikely. An involuntary possession—”

“But is it possible?”

Corinne had followed them, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, but what on earth are you talking about?”

“Your information has been extremely helpful, Corinne. More than you could know. But I’m afraid that Zandra is right. We’re needed urgently back in Crimson Falls.”

“What are we going to do?” Zandra whispered.

“First, we have to get there.”

They raced downstairs to the parking garage. This time, Anderson took the keys. He sped out of downtown and onto the freeway. Zandra tried calling Penny, but the call went to voicemail.

“Call Ben,” he said. “Let’s hope that we’re wrong. An involuntary possession is still incredibly unlikely. But Penny needs to be watched at all times until we arrive.”

Zandra’s hands shook as she pulled up Ben’s contact. “Ben,” she said when he answered. “Where is Penny?”

“I haven’t seen her this morning. Why?”

“We need eyes on her. Now.”

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Edmund held Tina’s hand as they went up the narrow staircase to the second floor. His bedroom door was just to the left, but he went past it.

“I saw Nicki this morning,” he said. “I came back upstairs, and she was at the end of the hallway. Those jeans she wore all the time with the triangle on the pockets?”

“Guess Brand. Those were her favorites.” Tina squeezed Edmund’s fingers. “Then what?”

“Then she turned around, and—”

He stopped abruptly, pushing her behind him. Tina pressed up against his back.

“I see her again,” he whispered. “She’s here.”

Tina looked over his shoulder, but she didn’t see anything different. Just the hallway telescoping across the house, the vast staircase and balcony railing, then more doorways beyond. No lights were on, but sunlight streamed in from the windows by the stairs. Dust motes drifted in the air. Everything else was still and quiet.

Tina’s lungs ached. She’d been holding her breath.

“What’s she doing?” Tina asked.

“I think she’s looking for something—I mean, she’s remembering looking for something. Or someone. Just like earlier today.”

“We should go after her.”

Edmund glanced back. “You sure? You’re not…scared?”

She was, but she shook her head. “Not if I’m with you.”

They went down the hall, moving so slowly it felt like an inch at a time. At the staircase, Tina looked over the balcony. The front door and the entryway were visible below. Windows overlooked the valley and the lake, where Grant and Mike and Andrea made small colorful dots beside the water.

“Do you still see her?” Tina asked.

“She’s just—wait, she went into one of the rooms.”

They walked forward again, faster now, crossing over into the other wing of the house. “Which room?” she said, scanning the doorways. All were closed.

“That one.” Edmund pointed. The door looked like all the others. Dark wood, an ornate crystal handle. A keyhole below like the one to Edmund’s own room. Tina knelt down and tried to look through. The room beyond was too dark to see much. There was a bed. A dresser with a boom box. Clothes strewn over the floor.

“It’s Grant’s room,” Edmund said.

Grant. Did that mean he was the guy that Nicki wrote about in her diary? The one who broke her heart?

Tina was still kneeling, eye to the keyhole. But something had changed inside the room. It was getting brighter, like the sun was suddenly shining straight through the window. But the curtains were closed.

The light grew brighter and brighter, concentrating into the center of the room. A cloud of silver.

The cloud rushed forward toward the keyhole.

Tina screamed and fell back. The silver cloud flew into the hallway and went straight for Edmund. He smacked against the wall and slid down to the carpet.

Tina crawled over to him. Gripped his hands. “Edmund? Are you okay?” His eyelids had closed but it seemed like his eyes were still moving—like he was dreaming.

Then she heard a noise downstairs. A door clicking shut. A voice called out, “Edmund, is that you up there?”

It was Diane. She was home.

Tina bent over Edmund and patted his cheek. “Hey, wake up,” she whispered. “We’re going to be in trouble. We have to move, come on.” His eyelids fluttered.

“Edmund?” Diane called again. She was coming up the main staircase.

Tina cursed. She tried to pull him up, but he was heavy. “Please wake up. Please. Come on.”

Edmund groaned, his eyes finally opening. With Tina’s help, he stood. They stumbled down the hallway, the floor complaining underneath them. Tina could still hear Diane climbing the steps. She pulled Edmund into the nearest open doorway—a bathroom. Black and white tile spanned the floor. Clawed white feet peeked out beneath a shower curtain. He leaned his weight against her.

“Edmund?” Diane called. “Are you up here?” Her voice was louder. She was in the hallway.

“Wait here,” he whispered to Tina. Before she realized what he was planning, he lurched out of the bathroom and into the hall.

Tina pressed herself against the bathroom wall.

“I’m here, Aunt Diane,” he said weakly.

“Why weren’t you answering? What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t hear you. I wasn’t feeling well.”

Tina felt the urge to look out of the bathroom, but she didn’t dare risk it. Instead she imagined Diane studying him. Maybe placing the back of her hand against his cheek.

“You do look flushed. Is someone up here with you?”

Tina inched further into the bathroom, wondering if she could hide behind the shower curtain.

“No.”

“I thought I heard a girl’s voice as I was coming in. A scream?”

“It’s just me.”

A pause. Something rattled. Tina didn’t know what was happening. Was Diane trying the handle to someone’s door?

“You know the rules,” Diane said. “Stay away from the girls at the camp.”

“I know.”

“I won’t say it again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Another pause. “All right. Do something useful with yourself. Boredom breeds unhappiness.”

There were footsteps. Tina flattened herself against the wall, worried that Diane would come this way. But she didn’t. The footsteps faded into quiet. For several minutes, nothing happened, and Tina wondered whether Edmund had gone too. If he’d just left her.

But finally, he appeared in the doorway. Edmund looked even paler than usual. Blue veins stood out at his temples.

“She’s gone now. Let’s go.”

He took her hand. They went back down the hall to his room. Edmund closed and locked the door behind them, leaving the key in the hole on the inside.

He sank down on the bed, resting his head in his hands.

“Was it Nicki?” Tina asked. She still kept her voice down, afraid of being overheard. “That silver cloud thing.”

“You saw it?”

She sat beside him. “It went right for you.” Part of her was sure she’d imagined that. But he nodded.

“I think I saw her memories. She was in the water. She couldn’t breathe. She was trying to get back to the air, but she couldn’t.”

Tina’s lips trembled. He put his arms around her, resting his cheek on her hunched shoulder.

“Did she really do it on purpose?” Tina asked, afraid to know the answer. But she had to. Nicki had been her best friend, and Tina had failed her when it counted most.

Go and die. See if I care.

“It was like watching a movie, except I was inside of it. Does that make sense? And I could feel the things that she felt. It was really disorienting. I couldn’t tell up from down.”

He shivered. Tina rubbed his arms.

“There was pressure in my chest. In my face. Something was shoving into my back.” He lifted his head, eyes widening. “Hands on her back.”

“Someone else was there? In the water?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Edmund pushed away from her and got up, pacing across the room. He went to the window and looked out, breathing hard.

Tina’s mind raced. Nicki hadn’t been alone? Someone had been pressing her into the water?

She was murdered. Those words screamed inside her mind. Nicki was murdered. She was murdered. And the police hardly even investigated. They figured she’d gone down to the lake to end her life. Because that was just something that lost girls did, right? They ran away so far that they couldn’t come back.

And I believed it, Tina thought.

A few minutes passed. Tina got up and joined Edmund by the window. Sun glinted off the lake’s surface. Grant, Mike and Andrea were packing up their towels. Probably heading back home. Tina knew that she should do the same; someone would notice if she skipped a meal. But she didn’t want to leave Edmund yet.

“I thought Nicki died in the lake,” Tina said. “Why would her ghost be here?”

“Ghosts don’t always stay where they died. My mom drowned in the lake, too. But I see her.”

“Your mom? She drowned, too?”

They should fill that lake in, Vera had said the day Nicki’s body was found.

“I was a baby, but people say she swam every morning. One day she didn’t come home.”

“Jeez. I’m sorry, Edmund. I’m really sorry.”

“I’ve seen her as long as I can remember. She walks out to the lake and back. Sometimes she goes to that room downstairs—past the pantry. Where I was born. That’s why I asked, earlier, when you were in the pantry—I wondered if maybe you’d seen her too. If she led you to me.”

No wonder he seemed strange to people. He’d grown up in this house where he wasn’t wanted, surrounded by the ghost of his mother and whoever else. And now Nicki. It would make anybody strange.

He brushed a lock of hair from Tina’s cheek. “Does this scare you? Talking about ghosts and death?”

Tina ran a finger across his temple. Around the shell of his ear. Down to his chin. “Ghosts do scare me. And if somebody hurt Nicki—that really scares me. But you don’t.”

That hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

“We have to find out what really happened to Nicki,” Tina said. “Will you help me?”

He kissed her, which somehow seemed like just the right answer.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Penny’s cabin came back into focus. The bed with its brightly colored quilt, the wooden walls and ceiling. She sat on the floor leaning against the dresser. A drawer pull dug into her back.

Penny had seen Edmund and Tina together at Demler Mansion. Tina had trusted him completely. And he’d truly seemed to have feelings for her—during the moments Edmund had shown to Penny, anyway.

Edmund lounged on the floor across the room. One leg outstretched, one knee bent. Watching her, his face impassive.

“You see?” he said. “I cared about Tina. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

Could a ghost lie through his memories? Penny didn’t think so. But she was constantly surprised by the things she didn’t know, especially when it came to the supernatural.

Edmund huffed a laugh. “When are you going to believe me, instead of a bunch of rumors and hearsay?”

“Maybe when you respect my privacy and stop prying into my head.” Penny rubbed her eyes. She felt dizzy. She’d experienced these kinds of shifts before—moving in and out of a ghost’s memories—and it was just as intense as the first time. She stood up, bracing herself against the dresser, and brushed off her jeans.

“What about the other ghosts in Demler Mansion?” she asked. “Is Tina one of them?”

Penny’s phone rang. Zandra’s name appeared on the screen.

“Don’t answer,” Edmund commanded.

“Why?”

“Because I’m tired of talking. Let’s get out of here. I’m sick of this place. I’m so sick of death.” He scowled at the room. “This is the first time I’ve gotten out of the big house in twenty-five years. Could we at least go into town?”

The phone stopped ringing. “That’s not a good idea.”

“You asked me about Tina. You think it’s easy to talk about her, especially here at Shady Valley?”

Penny sighed. It was a fair point. “All right. We could go into town. But I don’t have a car.”

“Can’t you just take Ben’s keys?”

She snorted. “Um, no. But I could ask.”

“Are you going to tell him about me?”

“Probably not.” Ben had made clear last night that he didn’t believe her. He’d essentially said she was hallucinating. If she tried to explain that Demler was actually here, in her head, Ben would calmly mansplain to her that she couldn’t possibly be right. No thanks.

She did want to tell Zandra and Anderson. But what if they didn’t believe her, either? Once Zandra got here, she could read Penny’s aura and at least know that Penny was telling the truth. But there wasn’t much use talking to them by phone. She’d have to wait until they returned.

She’d have to deal with Edmund by herself until then.

Outside, Penny didn’t go straight to Ben’s door. First she skirted through the parking lot, making sure his car was here. The Subaru sat in the place Ben had parked it yesterday.

Penny craned her neck, peering into the window.

His keys sat in the cupholder. The car used a keyless ignition; maybe he’d forgotten to grab them, or simply didn’t see the need for precautions in such an isolated area.

“Come on,” Edmund said. “The guy’s asking for it.”

“I am not stealing his car.”

She crossed back to the cabins and stopped outside Ben’s door. Just as she raised her fist to knock, she heard Ben’s voice.

“Hey, Z.” There was a short pause. “I haven’t seen her this morning. Why?”

“Do you hear that?” Edmund murmured in her ear. “They’re talking about you.”

Not necessarily, Penny thought. But she knew he was right.

“Why?” Ben asked. “What happened?” Another pause. “Okay, yes, I’ll find her. But you want to tell me what’s going on?” Now she heard Ben walking around inside his cabin. Drawers opened and slammed closed. Like he was getting dressed in a hurry.

Edmund stepped in front of her, wedging himself between Penny and the door. “You sure you want to find out what they’re up to?”

Zandra and Anderson were in Denver. They might be asking for help with the case. And if they were nervous about Penny? She didn’t know if they’d guessed about Edmund—if Ben had actually told them about last night—but if so, she wanted their advice.

“I changed my mind. I want to talk to Ben.”

“Well, I don’t.”

She did an about-face. Without her permission, her feet marched back toward the parking lot. “Stop it,” she snapped.

Edmund made her open the door to Ben’s car. She plopped into the seat. “How do you start this thing?” he asked. But he must have seen the answer in her mind, because her foot pressed the brake and her finger pressed the button to start the engine. The ghost appeared in the seat beside her.

“We’re borrowing a car, Penny, not robbing a bank. It’s a field trip. Just go with it.”

* * *

They parked on a residential street and walked over to Main. Edmund had agreed to a truce—no more puppeteering if she humored him for this little tour of Crimson Falls. Afterward, she’d get to talk to Anderson and the rest of the team, and Edmund promised not to interfere.

“You wanted to go to town,” Penny said. “Here we are. What now?”

A pedestrian crossed the street in front of her. He gave Penny a questioning look; she was talking to herself.

Demler turned in a circle, surveying Main Street. “It hasn’t changed as much as I’d thought. After seeing Vera and Diane and the cabins, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. They didn’t really change on the outside, either, except a little more wear and tear.”

They strolled up the block, Edmund peering into all the windows. He could go a few feet away from her, apparently, but then he always returned to her side. Like he couldn’t go any farther.

“What was Vera like back then?” Penny asked. “She worked at the camp, right? For your aunt Diane?”

“Yeah. Vera was nice to me whenever I saw her. I thought she was my friend. But she chose to believe the lies. Plus, she married into my messed-up family. Anybody sensible would’ve run from Shady Valley. But she keeps hanging on because the tarnished Demler legacy is all she’s got. That’s pathetic. Even Diane moved on to her diner.”

“Vera misses her husband. She stays there out of love.” Maybe that’s beyond your comprehension, Penny finished internally.

He scowled at her. “I understand love just fine. But I’m sure it makes you feel superior to assume that I don’t.”

They stopped outside The Stagecoach Diner. “Diane’s working right now,” Penny said. “We could go see her.”

He went to the window and placed a hand against the glass. “I was there yesterday when you and Ben talked to her. She hates me, too, even though she raised me. She’s the closest thing to a mother I ever had. That’s love, Penny. It’s everything until it’s nothing.”

She rolled her eyes. “You might be fifty-some years old, but you still have all the drama of a teenager.”

“I didn’t get the chance to grow out of it.” He pointed at a sign down the block that said, Bar. One of the few businesses in Crimson Falls that looked busy. A middle-aged man in a Rockies cap had just parked out front. The man got out of his beat-up Buick and went straight inside, walking with the kind of purpose that suggested he was a regular.

“I died before I even got the chance to officially order a beer,” Demler said. “Let’s go have a drink.”

“Then we’ll talk about Tina and the other victims?” He still hadn’t answered her question from earlier.

“I’m one of the victims, too. But yeah, we’ll talk.”

The bar was so dark that Penny blinked in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust. Several faces turned to stare at her.

“Go on,” Edmund said behind her. He gave her a small push, and she stepped awkwardly forward.

“Help you?” the bartender grunted.

She ordered a pint of IPA and carried her glass to a booth near the back. Penny sat in the side facing the wall, so fewer people would see her talking to no one.

“You can speak to me in your head,” Edmund pointed out from the seat across from her. “Doesn’t have to be out loud.”

“Please don’t remind me,” she whispered. “The other ghosts in the house. Who are they?”

“Taste the beer first.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

She took a sip. “There. Happy?”

He’d closed his eyes, and he had a look of concentration on his face. “Tastes different from how I remember. It’s so bitter.”

She snickered. “I guess beers weren’t this hoppy back in the 90s.”

He seemed so bewildered that she forgot, for a brief moment, that he was supposed to be a killer.

And what if he really was innocent? It would’ve been terrible being stuck inside Demler Mansion for so many years, all that time aware of his death and all he’d lost. She still resented the way he’d invaded her—violated her privacy, her very self—to escape his prison.

But, if he was innocent…maybe she could sympathize. Maybe, after decades trapped as a ghost haunting the ruins of her former home, she’d have done the same in his place.

Penny knew that he could probably read these thoughts passing through her head. But he didn’t overtly react to them.

“There are—were—three other ghosts in the house besides me,” he said. “My mother. Nicki. And Tina.”

“What about Rosalee?”

“I’ve never seen her. I didn’t know her when I was alive, either.”

“But you knew Nicki?”

He nodded. “I saw my mom and Nicki’s ghosts while I was still alive. Tina…I didn’t know she was dead until after.”

“So you really were a medium?”

He shifted his weight on the seat, and his teeth dug into his lower lip. Strange, how such mannerisms persisted even in death. As if his mind couldn’t function without remembering what it was like to be alive.

“My mother died when I was little, but I saw her all the time. I’d sit with her in that room past the pantry. She never talked to me. She seemed more like a video that was replaying moments from her life.”

Penny leaned forward. “That’s how ghosts appear to me most of the time. I’ve only met a few who are awake. Like you.”

“Did bad things happen to them, too?”

“Sometimes. But all ghosts remain in the living world because they can’t get over something. It might be trauma, or regrets, or just unfinished business. I don’t know why some are aware, and others aren’t conscious.”

“My mom is usually pretty calm. She thinks about me, which is nice I guess. She worries about whether we’re going to be okay. She’s faded a lot over the years, though. I hardly ever see her now. She likes to walk by the lake. You saw her the other night.”

So that ghost had been Rachel. Edmund’s mother.

He drew circles on the table with his finger. Penny kept having to remind herself that he wasn’t really sitting there.

“Nicki is kind of in-between,” he went on. “On bad days she gets mad, but other times she just kinda floats along, like she’s lost. And Tina?” His lips were barely moving, his voice a whisper. “Tina’s still there, all right, but not the girl that I remember.”

“We met a poltergeist at Demler Mansion,” Penny said. “Was that Tina?”

“Of all of them, she tends to get the most…upset. But it can happen to any ghost if they’re pissed off enough. Including me.”

“But you can’t do that now, can you? Make things move with your mind.”

His eyes bored into hers. “I can make you move. But that seems to be it, at the moment.”

Penny inched back in the booth. “Okay, let’s go back to Nicki and Tina. Can you see how they died?”

“The drownings? That’s all they think about. But it’s all confused, dreamlike.” He shuddered, and Penny felt the tingles moving across her own skin. “I don’t know who did it. I can never see that part. It’s like they’re stuck right in those minutes that they were holding their breath, praying for some way out of it. For mercy. For help. But then they can’t keep from inhaling, and the water comes instead. Then they go right back to the beginning of it—like somehow this time, they’ll escape.”

“An infinite loop. That’s awful.” She’d experienced similar loops in the minds of other ghosts. She’d helped free them—but only by fully reliving each agonizing moment of their death and helping the ghost accept it. No easy task. Yet a sentient ghost like Edmund was far more difficult to handle.

“What about your death?” Penny asked. “Do you remember it?”

“Don’t try your acceptance crap on me. I want to know who did it, and I want him to pay.”

“The police report said you set the fire.”

“I didn’t.”

“What really happened?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.”

Edmund vanished from the seat, then reappeared at the corner of her vision, walking across the room. She turned to see him approach the bar. One of the patrons twisted on his bar stool, meeting her gaze.

Penny turned back around and picked up her beer. “What are you doing?” she hissed, covering her mouth with the glass.

“There’s someone here I know. My uncle, in fact. Grant Demler. You and Ben were planning to talk to him, right? Now’s your chance.”

She snuck another glance. Edmund was casually leaning against the bar. He tilted his head toward the man next to him—the man wearing the Rockies cap. They’d seen him come inside right before them.

Trey Lofton, the sheriff, had mentioned Grant yesterday when she and Ben were at the office.

“Why do you want me to talk to him?” she asked Edmund.

“He lived in the big house back then. Same as me. He might’ve seen something, heard something.”

She didn’t see any reason to refuse. Sheriff Lofton had said Grant wouldn’t want to speak to their team, but maybe he’d be more willing to chat over a drink.

Sipping her beer, Penny approached the bar. She perched on the stool beside him. “Excuse me, Grant Demler?”

“Yeah?” His frown turned to interest as he gave her a once-over. A paunch hung over the waistband of his jeans. He smelled like menthol and sour alcohol.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“He hasn’t aged well,” Edmund said, “but he’s the same old Grant on the inside.”

She gave the man a tight-lipped smile. “I’m Penny. I’m with the Mercury Group. We’re looking into the incident at Demler Mansion last month?”

“Right, I heard.” He took a swig of his pale-yellow beer. “You’re one of the ghost people. I don’t believe in that stuff. Edmund’s dead and rotten. Good riddance.”

Edmund snorted. He was behind the bar now, facing his uncle. “Dead and rotten, maybe. But not gone.”

“I have a few questions for you,” Penny said. “If you don’t mind.”

Grant gave her body another long perusal. Even reclined back to check out her butt on the stool. “I don’t mind.”

Edmund leaned forward, teeth bared, his nose an inch from Grant’s. “Ask him if he knew Nicki.”

“Did you know Nicki Ember?”

Grant screwed up his lips. “You mean one of the girls Edmund killed? I saw her around, maybe. I’m not sure. It was a long time ago.”

“He’s lying.” Edmund’s grin was vicious. “Ask him where he was the night Tina and I died.”

“Where were you the night of the fire at Demler Mansion? In 1995?”

“Why do you wanna know that?”

“We’re just trying to get a better picture of what happened back then. The police file wasn’t totally clear.”

“Then maybe I do mind your questions.” Grant finished his beer and swiveled in his seat to leave. “I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

Her arm shot out, and her hand closed over his. She hadn’t meant to move; it was Edmund again. Pulling her strings. Grant’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Penny? What’re you doing here?”

Sheriff Trey Lofton stood at her shoulder. His eyes flicked down to the hand still clutching Grant’s. She let the man go.

“Everything okay, Uncle Grant?”

“Did you put her up to this, Trey? These questions?”

“Me?” the sheriff asked. “I sure don’t think so. But if you’d like to fill me in on what’s—”

Grant stormed out. Edmund glared at the man as he left.

Lofton sighed, removing his hat to scratch at his hair. “Sorry about that. Grant had a falling out with my father several years ago, so by extension he doesn’t care for me these days, either. I warned you he wouldn’t appreciate being interviewed.”

“Could that mean he’s hiding something?”

Lofton didn’t answer, instead focusing in on the half-empty glass of beer in front of her. “Have you been drinking?” he asked quietly. “It’s not even noon yet.”

Should I tell him I came in here because a ghost asked me to do it? she wondered. Or would Lofton assume she’d had a lot more to drink than half a beer?

“I wanted to fit in, so I ordered a pint.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “I heard from Anderson Green a few minutes ago. He’s been looking for you. I’d better give you a ride back to Shady Valley.”

“Might as well,” Edmund said, already heading for the door. “I’m done with this place, anyway.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Zandra jumped out of the car before Anderson had turned off the engine. She ran over to Ben, who paced on the wooden walkway outside the cabins.

“Where is she?”

Ben pointed his thumb at the door to Penny’s room, which was cracked open. “Inside. Sheriff Lofton dropped her off. She was in town.”

Zandra lowered her voice. “Did you sense anything off? Any kind of trails or activity around her?”

“Nothing, Z. I don’t get this.”

She hadn’t explained on the phone about Edmund being a medium. Anderson—as usual—had wanted to limit the exchange of information until he could personally assess the situation.

The man himself strode over to meet them. “She’s in her room?” Anderson asked.

“I’m here,” Penny called. She appeared in the doorway, her cheeks flushed but otherwise looking like herself. From Zandra’s limited knowledge, anyway. She studied Penny’s energy for signs of disturbance, but she couldn’t pinpoint Edmund’s presence.

“I understand you’ve got a visitor?” Anderson said calmly. Like they weren’t talking about the rage-filled ghost of a sadistic serial killer.

“He’s moved right in.” Penny crossed her arms over her stomach. Her eyes flicked to the side, looking at the empty space beside them. “He won’t shut up.”

“Is he with us at the moment?” Anderson asked.

“I’m not going to repeat Edmund’s response, because that’s a bit more profanity than I’m comfortable with, but yeah. Can somebody please tell me how to get him out of my head?” Her energy spiked, betraying the panic that she was otherwise keeping suppressed.

Anderson turned to Ben. “Would you grab your electromagnetic detector? And Zandra—help Penny put on her vest and fire up the network? I’d like to keep a close eye on her vitals.”

“I’m fine,” Penny said. “Just tired.”

“Then consider it an abundance of caution. And Mr. Demler?” Anderson lifted his eyes, scanning to the left and right. “Assuming you can hear me? I’d like all of us to sit and have a friendly chat. Let’s get all our cards on the table, shall we?”

“Edmund says he’s willing.”

“That’s an excellent start.”

Penny exhaled, her shoulders curving. She went back into her room.

Ben returned with the EM monitor. “If I can’t pick up any trails, I’m not sure this will help.”

“We do what we can.” Anderson gestured for him to go inside.

Zandra was about to follow, but Anderson stopped her. He pulled her away by several yards and dropped his voice to a whisper. “We have to assume Demler knows everything about us that Penny does. That means he’ll expect you to be reading her, at least superficially. But no deep dives for the moment. I don’t want to startle him until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Penny had been through enough already. Zandra had no intention of invading her mind further—not until Penny gave the okay. It annoyed her that Anderson would think otherwise.

“But we need to have a contingency ready,” Zandra said. “In case Demler poses an imminent threat to Penny.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“You’ve got the emergency bag.”

Whenever a Mercury team worked a case, the senior agent carried certain supplies under lock and key. As a handler, Anderson had the highest authority, so he had the bag. It was for drastic situations only—when they needed to defend themselves against out-of-control witnesses or, on occasion, their own mediums.

“I’ll consider it,” Anderson said. “But for now, I’d like to see how this plays out. We’ve got an involuntary possession, Z. You know as well as I how rare that is. I want to learn whatever I can.”

* * *

The numbers on Penny’s vest ticked up, then down, reacting with each shift in her energy. She’d wanted to remain standing. Zandra, Ben and Anderson made a semi-circle around her, crowding the small space of Penny’s cabin. Zandra’s phone showed a detailed summary of Penny’s vitals.

“Edmund can hear everything we’re saying, correct?” Anderson asked.

“He can. Yes.”

“But I’m speaking to Penny?”

She rested her weight against the wall. “It’s me.”

Anderson looked to Zandra for confirmation. Zandra nodded. She could definitely feel Penny here, alert and in control. Edmund remained hidden.

The lights on Ben’s electromagnetic detector flashed in regular pulses, likewise not registering anything unusual.

“I don’t think he can take over my mind completely,” Penny said. “If he could, I assume he already would’ve done it.”

Anderson tapped his chin thoughtfully. He’d taken the only chair. “That’s intriguing. With most cases of possession that I’ve encountered, the spirit entity can easily overpower the host’s mind. Then again, those hosts all had voluntarily allowed the possession to occur.”

“Voluntarily?” Penny said. “Who would do that?”

“Channeling is a mild form of possession, for those mediums who use it. The other situations aren’t particularly relevant here. We know your possession wasn’t voluntary.”

“Then how did it happen?”

“During his life, Edmund was a para-sensitive. A medium, like you.”

Penny didn’t seem surprised. “He told me. But why would that make a difference?”

“For para-sensitives,” Anderson explained, “the barriers between the living and the dead, between one mind and another, are fluid. Particular talents vary, but we all share a certain…flexibility. You can cross borders that aren’t usually meant to be crossed. Even in death, Edmund retains some measure of his talent. He was able to cross the barrier into your mind.”

“There’s a reason Edmund picked you, and not me or Ben.” Zandra shared an uneasy glance with her teammate. “You’re different, Penny. More than we realized.”

“How?” she asked.

“Your power is stronger than ours,” Ben said. “Which Anderson should’ve expected.”

“Penny is more open to the spirit world,” Anderson cut in. “And yes, I did know that. But I’ve never seen a case of involuntary possession before. We can’t predict every eventuality; it would be foolish to try. What matters is how we react.”

Ben folded his arms. Zandra felt him holding back his response.

Anderson picked a speck of lint from his sleeve. “Perhaps, before speculating further on what we might’ve done, we should ask our guest for his intentions. Edmund, what is it that you hope to accomplish?”

Penny was quiet, her head tilting to the side. Zandra focused just a bit more—Penny was open, listening. No, more than that. She was responding. Talking to Edmund inside her head. Penny didn’t like this situation, but she didn’t fear the ghost.

Zandra read sympathy in Penny’s aura, rather than skepticism. She felt sorry for him.

That made Zandra more worried than ever. Just how much had Penny and Edmund bonded in the last day? What had Edmund been telling her?

Finally, Penny spoke. “He says he won’t hurt anyone. He wants to find out who really killed him and the others.”

Penny wasn’t telling the whole truth. But without delving further, Zandra couldn’t find out what she’d left out.

“He says he’s innocent?” Ben scoffed. “We’re supposed to believe that psycho?”

With no warning, Penny lunged in Ben’s direction, her fists clenched. The EM meter emitted a shriek. Her vest flashed, and the phone in Zandra’s hand blinked with notifications. Penny’s heart rate and blood pressure had spiked.

And for just the briefest flash, Zandra had seen him—Edmund stood beside Penny, his body position and expression an exact match to hers.

Anderson rose, putting himself between Penny and Ben. “Let’s all remain calm. Name calling isn’t warranted.”

“Sorry,” Ben muttered. “I saw Edmund’s trail for a second, but it’s gone. You still there, Penny?”

Her fists unclenched, and she stretched her fingers. “He can control me in short bursts. It’s getting on my nerves.”

“Would you like to sit?” Anderson asked.

“I’d prefer a break, actually.” Penny pushed her hair back from her face. “Ten minutes? I’m exhausted.”

“One of us should stay,” Zandra said.

“I’ll wear the vest thing. Please, I just want to close my eyes.”

Anderson perched his hands on his hips. “As long as you keep your door open. One of us will be standing right outside. Ben, can you take first shift?”

They kept Penny’s vest connected to the network, so they’d get a notification if her vitals shifted. The rest of them filed out of the cabin. Anderson went straight for his own room, and his intention broadcast clearly to Zandra: follow me. We need to talk.

Ben rested against the railing across from Penny’s open door. “This is a mess,” he whispered. “She told me, and I didn’t get it. I feel like a fool for not realizing.”

“You and me both.”

Zandra couldn’t stop thinking of the memory she’d plucked from Ross Trujio’s mind the day before—seeing the silver shadow fly at him inside Demler Mansion, that terrible vision of burning to death. Edmund’s ghost was full of rage. Zandra had felt it just now, when he’d controlled Penny—stepping out of hiding for that brief moment, like a spider skittering out into the light.

At the moment, Penny felt sympathy for Edmund. But it would be a mistake to underestimate him.

Zandra glanced into the open doorway. Penny sat in the chair, eyes closed.

“We’ve both failed Penny,” Zandra said. “She’s new, and we’re responsible for her. So let’s step it up and fix this.”

Ben moved in closer. “What about Anderson? What about his responsibility? Did he really have no indication in his preliminary review that Demler was a medium?”

“He was as shocked as me when we realized it this morning.”

“But if you and I had done our own research before going into that house, if he’d let us run this case ourselves—”

She didn’t remind Ben that he was already on probation, and it might not be wise for him to challenge the Mercury Group hierarchy at the moment. “We’re para-sensitives, Ben. We use our talents first. Witness interviews and old-fashioned research come second because they’re less reliable. That’s how we operate.”

“That’s how Anderson operates.” Ben exhaled, taking out his phone. “I don’t like standing around. I’ll call into town and see if we can get lunch delivered.”

“Something greasy? Extra cheese and fries? Please don’t order a bunch of salads. Not on a day like this one.”

A grin transformed his expression. “For you, Z, I’ll brave the extra sodium.” He rested his hand on her arm. “Take a break. I’ll watch over Penny till you’re back.”

She turned and headed for Anderson’s room. Then she realized—Ben had touched her. Not her bare skin, but still. He hadn’t even hesitated.

Zandra knocked on Anderson’s door.

“Come in.”

Anderson sat at a small desk with his laptop open. He’d rearranged his furniture when he arrived, pushing the bed up against one wall to make room for files and loose papers, which covered the floor. There were photos of Edmund Demler and his family, both from 1995 and the present; pics of Hannah and Kacey Eckert printed from social media. Zandra knew that Anderson’s laptop held even more information on the case, both official and unofficial.

Usually, as a handler, Anderson didn’t get this in-depth. He allowed his agents some level of free rein, though with frequent supervision. But when he worked a case in person, Anderson steeped himself in every detail. Usually, Zandra admired his thoroughness.

“Was there something we missed at the beginning of the case?” Zandra asked. “Some hint we could’ve picked up on—before we saw Nicki’s notebook—that Edmund was a medium?” She said “we,” but she knew that Anderson got her real meaning.

How did you miss this?

“We never know what we’re walking into when we enter the field, Zandra. We have to keep looking forward.” Anderson typed something else on the computer.

Not a satisfying answer. After this was over, they’d have to pick apart where this case went wrong. But second-guessing now served little purpose. “Then how do we get Demler out of Penny’s head without putting her in further danger?”

“The more important question is, how do we capitalize on the situation we’ve found ourselves in?”

“Capitalize? What does that mean?”

Anderson got up from his desk chair. “The research is scanty at best. I’ve only seen a couple of full-on possession cases myself, and those were voluntary.” His aura buzzed with excitement. “We’ve got an involuntary case where both sides are para-sensitive, both spirit and host. I was just searching journal articles, and I didn’t see a single verified incidence—”

“You’re talking about journal articles right now? While Penny’s two cabins over with a serial killer invading her mind, sometimes controlling her?”

“Please don’t misunderstand me. Penny’s safety is a priority. But our goals haven’t changed. We’re in Crimson Falls to resolve the haunting at Demler Mansion, and Edmund could be an asset to achieving that. And don’t forget, the Mercury Group is a research organization. We’re also here to learn.”

Zandra paced across the room. The picture of Hannah and Kacey Eckert caught her eye again, two sisters who’d been torn apart by the dark history of Demler Mansion. Unless Zandra could find a way to help her, Hannah might not come out of her coma—quite possibly because of Edmund.

Many ghosts caused harm without any ill intention. But not him. Edmund was sentient. He knew what he was doing.

And Penny had lied to them, just now, about Edmund’s intentions. Did they really know to what extent her mind was her own?

“We don’t know what Edmund might do to her. What he already might be doing to her.” Even if he really were innocent of the murders in 1995—which Zandra doubted—they couldn’t jeopardize Penny’s safety to find out. Much less for vague “research” purposes like Anderson was suggesting.

To Zandra, they had only one clear option.

“We have to restrain her.”

Anderson’s emergency bag held multiple sets of cuffs and ties—all gentle but strong. And a small box held sedatives, in case the physical restraints weren’t enough.

“I’m surprised at you, Zandra.” He seemed more amused than shocked. “Tying her down against her will? Doesn’t that seem a bit drastic?”

“Not under the circumstances. We can’t let Edmund hurt her or use her to hurt anyone else. We’ll keep her restrained only until we’ve figured out what to do.”

Anderson sat against the edge of his desk. “I think it’s safer, and far more beneficial for all involved, to wait and see how this plays out.”

“I strenuously disagree.”

“Your objection is noted and overruled. I’ve made my decision.”

“That fast? You won’t even stop and think about whether I could be right?”

“I’ve heard all I need to. My decision stands.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth again. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She stormed toward the door, only pausing when he said, “And Zandra?”

She waited.

“If you take a supervisory role with Mercury, these decisions will be yours in the future. You’ll have to think beyond your immediate circumstances and grasp the bigger picture. I thought you were ready. Maybe I was wrong.”

His disappointment radiated toward her across the room.

She left before she could read anything else.

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Tina and Edmund spent the next few days decoding Nicki’s notebook. Tina worked on it at night and in the morning before breakfast. When she was busy with chores and camp activities during the day, she left the notebook in the tree hollow in the woods and Edmund took over. They met in the woods in the late afternoon as the sun was setting. That was the only time that Diane didn’t seem to be hovering, asking how she was doing.

“You’re awfully distracted lately,” Diane said one day after lunch.

Tina was bent over the sink at the lodge, her arms elbow-deep in suds.

Vera brought over the rice pot, which was crusted with sticky residue. “I think Tina has a crush on someone. She’s over there scrubbing plates and grinning.”

I was? Tina sucked in her lips.

“Is that so?” Diane asked. She didn’t seem nearly as amused as Vera. “A crush on whom?”

“No one.” Heat burned in her cheeks. “I was remembering something funny that Nicki said.”

That made Vera stop teasing, and Diane’s expression turned maternal. Tina felt guilty about using Nicki’s memory that way. But she did feel torn in two—between the sorrow and fear over what happened to Nicki, and the almost-painful elation in her chest when she thought about Edmund. And she’d only been thinking of him as she washed the dishes, no one else.

That afternoon ticked by with agonizing slowness. Tina finished cleaning up the kitchen and played Trivial Pursuit with the other girls for a while. But she couldn’t stay focused.

Edmund would be in the woods right now, decoding.

Sentence by sentence, Nicki’s diary entries had filled the translation pages. She’d described her longing for the guy she was seeing, so similar to what Tina felt. But Nicki’s writing was full of doubt. Did he love her? He’d promised that they would run away together, but he just needed more time.

Nicki still hadn’t mentioned him by name. She’d been afraid of getting caught, despite the code, even though she wished she could tell someone. I can’t even tell Teeny, and it’s driving me crazy. But Tina remembered how Nicki had acted; happy one day, dejected the next. I love being in love, Nicki wrote. And I hate being in love.

Is that what this is? Tina wondered. I’m in love with Edmund? She’d never felt anything so powerful.

She pictured the Falls on the day that she and Edmund first officially met. How the water pounded down onto the rocks. How the cool spray felt so gentle against her skin, but the current had frightened her when she stepped into the creek.

“Earth to Tina,” Jasmine said. She was holding a Trivial Pursuit card. “It’s your turn. Are you going to choose a category or what?”

“Oh. I’ll do Science and Nature, I guess.”

By the end of the game, Tina only had a single pie wedge in her game piece. But she didn’t care.

They had an hour before dinner. She could finally go meet Edmund.

He was sitting beneath a tree, head bowed over the notebook and transcription pad. Dappled sunlight fell onto his face. They’d been coming here instead of the big house after Diane almost caught them. It wasn’t as private as Edmund’s room, but hardly anyone came near. Most of the girls stuck to the lake and the meadows.

Edmund looked up at her. “I’m almost finished.”

“With the whole thing?” She sat in front of him so their knees were touching. “Has she said who he is?”

“Not by name. But…here. Read this part.”

He passed her one of the decoded pages.

I’m sick of secrets. Tina’s mad that I won’t tell her what’s really going on, as if this is my choice. I do want to tell her. Is that because I’m not happy anymore? Because I want somebody to share my misery? Maybe.

I found out one of HIS secrets. I’m not the first Shady Valley girl that he’s wrapped around his finger. And she ended up dead. I can’t believe he’d have hurt her on purpose. But I feel like the lies—his and mine—are burying me, little by little, every day.

Tonight, I told him that I’m sick of it. If he really loved me, he wouldn’t make me hide anymore. Maybe that was a mistake.

He got this awful expression. He grabbed my arm and squeezed. He said if I told, he’d make sure that nobody ever believed me. He says he can’t afford for the truth to come out. He’ll lose the perfect little life he’s built, living at the big house and barely having to work. I’m not even sure anymore if he loves me. It seems like everything is ending—I’m waking up from this beautiful dream and finding out none of it was true. I feel stupid for ever believing.

Oh, Nicki, Tina thought. I’m so sorry.

Nicki had written that her boyfriend lived at the big house and had a cushy job. “It could’ve been Grant,” she said. “Or even Mike. Either one would have plenty to lose if he was dating Nicki and got caught.”

Tina imagined Grant’s smiling face, his expression so easygoing. As if life had always been simple for him. And Mike—the way he’d spun a pregnant Andrea around and around, even as she screamed.

“And Nicki must’ve been talking about Rosalee, here,” Tina went on. “The girl who drowned last year. Do you think…?”

“That one of them killed her, too? It doesn’t look good.”

Together, she and Edmund translated the next page.

If he doesn’t want me, fine. But I’m not going away with nothing to show for it. I bet that the rest of Crimson Falls would be very interested to know more about Rosalee’s death. Was he with her when she died? Was her death really an accident? Just how many girls has he used up and thrown away?

It doesn’t matter what I believe, or even what the truth is. His shiny reputation might finally tarnish.

If he wants me to stay quiet, he’ll have to make it worth my while.

So now they knew the truth—Nicki’s boyfriend had killed her to shut her up. “But even if we figure out who this guy really was,” Tina said, “how will we prove he killed her?”

“Nicki might be able to answer both.” Edmund closed the notebook and handed Tina the last piece of the translation. “She says she left the proof, assuming it’s still there.”

Tina scanned the paragraph. She felt herself smiling, though she wasn’t happy. Inside she felt ugly and cold. “Let’s go find out.”

* * *

They snuck around to the back of the big house. Grant’s Buick was there, parked with the others under the carport. “He always leaves it unlocked,” Edmund said. “That’s how Nicki got in.”

Tina looked through the window into the back. Paper cups, soda cans and sandwich wrappers littered the bench seat. “This means Grant was the one, right? Since Nicki hid the evidence in his car.”

“Not necessarily. Mike uses it too, whenever he’s not driving the patrol car. But he’s a lot better than Grant about locking up.”

The back door popped open when Tina tried the handle. She knelt down and looked beneath the driver’s seat.

Nicki, you’re a genius, she thought. “I see it.” A plastic bag with a bright scrap of pink fabric inside.

In her last diary entry, Nicki had explained her plan.

He knows what I want in exchange for staying quiet. Now, I’m waiting for his response. He’ll be sorry if he refuses.

Is it stupid that I still love him, just a little bit? Probably. Part of me hopes he’ll beg to get me back. I’m wishing for it so hard that it makes my head ache behind my eyes. It’s stupid, I know. He could’ve hurt Rosalee. But deep down, I don’t really believe that. He’s too much of a coward. Mostly I’m pissed that he could dump me so easily.

Even if he pays me off, I’m still going to get him back.

When I’m a hundred miles away from here in some new place, all that money in my pocket, I’m going to call Diane and tell her to look under the driver’s seat of the Buick. I’m leaving a little present: one of my lace thongs and a Polaroid of the two of us together. Proof that this relationship DID exist, even if he’d rather pretend it didn’t. Then he’ll find I’m not so easy to forget.

The last night that Tina had seen her best friend alive—after their fight—Nicki must’ve gone to him for the money. And he killed her.

Tina reached for the plastic bag beneath the seat.

“Don’t touch it,” Edmund said. “Just leave it there.”

“But the picture’s inside. It’ll show who he was.”

“Then our fingerprints will be on it. Somebody could say we planted it here.”

“And faked the picture? Really?”

Edmund held on to her hands. “Tina, think about it. Mike is the sheriff’s son. And Grant is a deputy. We have to be really careful. Anything we do wrong, they’ll try to use it against us.”

“Because that’s what always happens.” She laughed bitterly. “You’re right.”

Tina didn’t say anything as she and Edmund walked back into the woods. It was almost dinnertime, but she couldn’t imagine eating. She felt sick over what happened to Nicki.

“Are you okay?” Edmund asked.

“No. I miss Nicki. I hate what happened to her.” Tears pricked her eyes. He brushed them away. “And I feel guilty every time I look at you,” she added. “Because I feel happy.” She spit the word out like a curse.

“Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.” Even though she wouldn’t be here with him if Nicki were still alive.

Edmund caressed her cheek. “I’m not like Nicki’s boyfriend,” he whispered. “I want to tell everyone about us. I don’t care what anyone thinks.” He ran his thumb over her lips, then replaced it with his mouth. Tina pulled him closer. Just for those few minutes, she let all thoughts of Nicki drift far away.

Voices floated over from the cabins. The girls were going in for dinner. “I have to go. Meet me in the morning?” They still had to decide what to do with the evidence they’d found. She snuck one last kiss, grabbed her bag and ran to join the tail end of the crowd.

At the door to the lodge, Vera pulled her aside. Her red glasses sat askew on her nose.

“I’m going to be late for dinner,” Tina protested.

“This will only take a minute.” Vera took Tina around the corner of the building. On the other side of the wall, dishes clattered and serving utensils clinked. Girls talked and laughed and chair legs squealed as they sat down.

“I saw you and Edmund in the woods. Kissing?”

Bile rose in Tina’s throat. “Are you going to tell Diane?”

“What? No. I wouldn’t do that. But I want you to be careful. Here.” Vera pushed something into Tina’s hand.

Three foil-wrapped condoms, perforated at the sides.

“Don’t stare at them,” Vera said, “put them in your bag. Before someone sees.”

“But I don’t need—”

“Oh, yes you do. My glasses were getting steamed up just looking at you two. But find a better place to get together? If I spotted you, anybody could.”

Tina shoved the condoms into her shoulder bag.

“Edmund’s had a really rough time growing up,” Vera said. “Harder than he deserved. But he’s a good kid. Just be careful, okay?”

Good. What did that even mean? He was better than just good. “You’re not going to tell me it’s against the rules? A camp girl dating a Demler boy?”

“Would you listen?” Vera shrugged. “Diane’s strict because she knows how hard it is for teen girls. Her own sister had trouble, running away and all that. Getting her heart broke.”

“Edmund’s mom.”

“Exactly. And then after what happened last year, with Rosalee? Diane is sensitive about the subject of sex, that’s all.”

“Rosalee?” Tina asked.

I can’t believe he’d have hurt her on purpose, Nicki had written.

Vera bit her gloss-coated lower lip, glancing at the door to the lodge. “Oh, she was running around with Grant. He tried to let her down easy, I hear, but Rosalee took it hard. Went a little wild. I know it can feel like the world is ending when you’re young and going through a break-up…”

“Rosalee and Grant? Are you sure?”

“I can tell you’re head-over-heels for Edmund right now,” Vera went on, oblivious. “But you come to me if you need advice, okay? Or if things don’t work out. Promise?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Tina turned around and walked back toward her cabin.

“Hey, wait!” Vera said. “What about dinner?”

“Can you tell Diane I went to bed? I don’t feel very good. I’m sorry.”

It all fit. Grant had killed Nicki, and Rosalee before her. Life had always been so easy for him—handsome, popular, born into a wealthy family—yet that hadn’t been enough.

She wanted Grant to pay for what he’d done.

When she was safely back in her bunk, she took out Nicki’s notebook. She had too much in her head and needed a place to sort it out. Not just the parts about Grant, but about Edmund too. The things he’d told her.

Tina knew Nicki’s code by heart, so she wrote a new entry into the diary. It was the truth about how Nicki had died, and how Tina found out.

Now, all she had to do was tell the rest of Crimson Falls and make them believe.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Matthew tried Penny on FaceTime again. Finally, the call went through.

Her face appeared on the screen. He sat on the living room couch, his knees going weak with relief. Crosby trotted over, resting her muzzle on Matthew’s knee.

“Penny. Hey. It’s so good to see you. I must’ve called like a million times.”

She looked like she’d had a long day, with her hair piled into a messy bun and her eyeliner a bit smeared. Her lips quirked, but she wasn’t smiling. She seemed more like she was trying not to cry.

“Penn? You okay?”

The moment she spoke, Matthew’s heart plunged.

“I’ve been really busy. But I wanted to say that I love you.”

“Okay. I love you, too.” He stood up again, unable to sit still. Crosby followed at his heel. “It feels like we’re having a very serious conversation right now.”

“Things are…complicated. But I’m fine.” She kept glancing to the side.

“Is someone else there?”

He thought of Bryce’s dream—Edmund Demler’s ghost. He’d been there with Penny. Controlling her. Penny was in her cabin right now, not the burned room that Bryce had described. But the events that Bryce had dreamed about could already be in motion.

Matthew had to warn her.

“Penny, listen, please—”

“I need to go. I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?”

“Wait!”

Matthew stared down at the phone in his hand. Her face had disappeared. She was gone.

He quickly texted, Bryce had a dream about you. Edmund Demler was there.

She didn’t respond.

Matthew tossed his phone onto the coffee table and swore. The Wright family meeting had only been a couple of hours ago. They’d agreed to wait at least till tonight before taking action. But after that phone call? He had to contact Penny’s family again, tell them what had happened.

Yet he could already predict what they’d say.

Krista, Lawrence, and maybe even Eliza would share his fears and charge into Crimson Falls, demanding answers. Bryce and Debbie would urge caution, pointing out that Penny had claimed to be fine and otherwise appeared unhurt. Essentially the same conversation as a few hours ago would play out again.

Matthew groaned. “What do I do?”

Crosby’s collar jingled as she watched him. Her eyes shone sympathetically. He petted the dog’s ears. Then he remembered what Eliza had said just a little while ago at the Ashton Valley Inn.

Penny would help any one of us if the situation were reversed.

He started throwing together an overnight bag. A change of clothes, his phone charger. Razor and deodorant. He could find a hotel room in Crimson Falls or another nearby town if Penny didn’t want him to stay.

Matthew held his phone to his ear as he set the bag by the door.

“Krista? Hey, do you think you could take Crosby for a day or two?”

There was a pause. “You’re going out there, aren’t you? To Crimson Falls. I’m coming with you.”

“No. We can’t all roll into town like we’re invading. This needs to be subtle.” And Penny’s little sister wasn’t exactly known for her subtlety. “At least until I know for sure what’s going on.” He explained to her about the FaceTime call, how Penny had said she was okay.

“But if you’re already going, what’s the harm in me coming along? I drive fast.”

She also wasn’t likely to hang back once they arrived. Krista and her sister had that much in common. “If Penny’s going to be angry, at least let her be angry at me and nobody else. I’ll call you when I get there.”

Krista grumbled. “I’m trusting you to handle this.”

“And I won’t let you down.”

In three hours, Matthew could be in Crimson Falls. Less than three hours if he sped like hell. When he showed up, Penny could yell at him if she wanted. She could tell him to turn around and drive straight back to Ashton.

But at least he would know she was all right.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Zandra passed Ben on the way to Penny’s room. “Everything still good?” she asked.

Ben nodded. “She’s awake. Spoke to her boyfriend on the phone. Are you here to relieve me?”

“You already need a break from sentinel duty?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing.

“Lunch doesn’t deliver. I need to pick it up. Burgers, not salads—I promise.”

“Then you’re released.”

He jogged toward the parking lot. Zandra knocked on Penny’s still-open door.

“Hey,” Zandra said. “Need some company?”

Penny sat in the chair, knees pulled to her chest. “I’ve got all the company I can handle. But I’d really appreciate some honesty.”

“We might’ve gone beyond my expertise at this point, but I’ll try.” Zandra walked inside. “He’s here, too?” she asked.

Penny pointed at the corner. “I want to know if you can get him out of me. I’m not asking how, because I don’t think you should tell me that with him listening. Just if.”

“And he doesn’t mind you asking?”

“He’s not stopping me.”

Which suggested that Edmund could stop her, if he wanted. Zandra didn’t like that. But Penny had asked for honesty. “We don’t know yet. But Anderson is working on finding out.”

Zandra omitted the fact that he also wanted to “let this play out.” Edmund didn’t need to know the full picture.

“I was really hoping you’d know,” Penny said.

“How bad is it?”

“He can hear my thoughts. When I dream, he’s there. Rifling through my memories.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s annoyed that I’m talking about him like he’s not here.”

“But can you read his thoughts?”

“No. I can’t.”

That was a problem. Penny didn’t know what to believe. Zandra felt her uncertainty. Edmund had insisted he was innocent, but what was the truth?

Zandra had an idea. Anderson wouldn’t like it. In fact, he’d expressly forbade her from this. But in the past couple of days, she’d been disagreeing with him more and more.

Anderson wanted her to act like a supervisor, didn’t he? Make the tough decisions?

So be it.

“There’s something I could do,” she said. “If you let me read you—not just at the surface but at a higher intensity—I might be able to speak to Edmund.”

Penny’s eyes widened with hope. “Really? Speak to him directly?”

“If Edmund would be amenable to that?”

Zandra didn’t like making concessions to him, but she needed him on board. Otherwise he could do something to hurt Penny. Penny had claimed that he wouldn’t harm any of them—but Zandra knew she’d been lying.

“He says yes. He’s tired of having to speak only through me.”

“Then let’s have a friendly chat.” Zandra pushed the door closed. She gestured for Penny to sit with her on the bed. They crossed their legs and faced one another, knees touching, hands clasped.

“What do I do?” Penny asked.

“Not a thing. This part comes naturally to me.”

In some ways, slipping into another person’s mind was easier to Zandra than keeping to the surface. If the person was hostile or afraid, then the process was much more difficult. Like with Ross. But Penny was open and relaxed. She let Penny’s energy envelop her.

Another presence now appeared in sharp relief in the room.

Edmund Demler stood in the corner, his full mouth puckered into a frown. He favored the pictures she’d seen of him, but he looked younger. More like a teenage kid with an attitude than a killer. Zandra doubted that Edmund could actually control how he appeared to them—no ghost could possibly achieve that level of intention, not even a former medium. His “appearance” was entirely a projection of his subconscious memory, and no one’s view of himself matched up perfectly with reality.

But how he looked didn’t tell her much, anyway. Not when compared to the aura of energy that surrounded him.

She could read him.

“Hello, Edmund. I’m Zandra.”

“I like ‘Z’ better. I feel like I know you so well already.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The kid wanted her to believe he knew what he was doing. But he had no clue. He felt lost. His energy reached outward, trying to find a path toward what he wanted.

And what do you want, Edmund? she wondered. What’s the truth?

His aura didn’t react to her thoughts—a fairly strong indication that he couldn’t hear them. That was good. He had enough of an advantage being able to read Penny’s mind.

“Is this comfortable for you?” Zandra asked Penny.

“Yeah. I’m good.” She held tight to Zandra’s hands. Her relief was palpable at not being the focus of the ghost’s attention.

Zandra turned back to their visitor. “I hear you’ve been claiming you’re innocent?”

“You won’t even consider that it’s true?”

“I didn’t say that.” Give me something, she thought. A truth. Or a lie.

Penny had closed her eyes and hung her head. She appeared to be dozing. But Zandra knew she was awake and listening closely.

“If you didn’t kill those girls, who did?” Zandra asked.

“I don’t know.”

Now that was a lie. He knew who killed them. But Zandra wasn’t ready to challenge him yet; Edmund didn’t seem to realize that she could read his energy.

“What is it that you want?”

“To clear my name.” True, but there was more he wanted.

Vengeance, his aura pulsed. Vengeance.

“And what’re you willing to do to achieve that?”

“Anything,” he murmured. “If I have to.”

Finally, a complete truth.

“Even hurt a living person?”

“Depends on who it is.”

A vague answer, but her question hadn’t been specific either.

“I don’t want to hurt Penny,” he added. “Or you.”

Another truth. But he hadn’t promised that he wouldn’t hurt them. Quite an important distinction, there.

Zandra didn’t want to push him too far. But they had to know. Everything depended on his answer.

“Tell me you’re innocent,” she said. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“I think you can guess why.”

Penny’s eyes popped open, looking between Zandra and Edmund.

His energy darkened. He understood, and he felt foolish for not realizing Zandra’s power. Anger flowed from him like heat. Not because he wanted to lie—it was that he wanted them to believe in his innocence on his own terms. Edmund wanted to be in control. But Zandra had just shown him that he wasn’t.

And now, he wondered what else Zandra might be hiding.

She gripped Penny’s hands tighter. The numbers on Penny’s vest ticked upwards as her heart rate rose. In another minute, alarms would start to buzz on Anderson’s computer and his phone, telling him that Penny’s vitals were unstable.

But Zandra couldn’t back off. Not yet.

“I’m innocent,” Edmund spit out. More a growl than distinct words.

“Of what? Say it.” That was the only way Zandra could know for sure.

Penny’s vitals continued to spike. In her pocket, Zandra’s phone buzzed.

“I didn’t kill Rosalee. I didn’t kill Nicki. I didn’t kill Tina. I wouldn’t…” He choked on the words. Edmund’s rage filled the room, but now Zandra felt the anguish behind it. Her own eyes pricked with tears as his despair overwhelmed her.

“I wouldn’t have hurt Tina. Ever.”

“I’m sorry,” Zandra whispered. A tear slid down her cheek.

Edmund sagged against the wall, hiding his face with his hands.

“He’s telling the truth, isn’t he?” Penny asked.

Zandra nodded. He had loved Tina. It was all true.

“But you do know who killed them.”

Penny’s body seized, her hands almost pulling away from Zandra’s. “What? Edmund, you know?”

He lifted his head. His cheeks were wet, his eyes bloodshot.

“Grant did it. He killed Tina. Killed me. And he’s going to burn for it, just like I did.”

Crimson Falls - 1995

Edmund had wanted to “borrow” a car to drive into town. But Tina insisted they take the bus. They were going to the Sheriff’s Office, after all. They couldn’t show up in a stolen car like a couple of juvenile delinquents and expect the police to believe their story.

Tina was worried that the sheriff wouldn’t want to see them. But Edmund just mentioned that he was a Demler, and Sheriff Lofton came out of his office to greet them.

“Edmund,” the sheriff said, shaking his hand. “It’s been a little while since I’ve seen you. Been keeping out of trouble?”

“Yes, sir,” Edmund mumbled.

The sheriff laughed. “That right jab hasn’t lost its power, I hope?” He mimed throwing a punch.

“Um, I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“Good answer. And what’s your name, honey?” Lofton asked.

“Tina Freeman.”

“Ah. Of course. Nicki Ember was your roommate, wasn’t she? I’m very sorry.”

“Thanks.” Her voice sounded so quiet. Tina cleared her throat. “Actually, that’s why we’re here. We’d like to talk about her. Nicki.”

“Oh?” Sheriff Lofton brought them to his office and closed the door. “Have a seat. What would you like to discuss?”

He spoke to them both, but was focused on Edmund. Yet Edmund just sat there and stared at his hands.

“We have reason to believe,” Tina began, trying to sound official, “that Nicki was murdered.”

Lofton sat back. “And what reason is that?”

Tina reached into her bag and brought out the translation of Nicki’s diary entries. She explained how Nicki had left a notebook written in code, and they’d deciphered it.

“Where is this notebook?” the sheriff asked.

Tina produced it from the bag. She flipped it open and placed it on the table, showing the lines of mysterious lettering. Her heart beat faster as she thought of the lines she’d written last night at the end. Had that been a mistake? What if the sheriff would call that tampering with evidence? But although he flipped a few pages, he didn’t turn to the end and see the change in handwriting.

“And how does all this show Nicki was murdered?” The sheriff wasn’t even reading the translation pages they’d made. He just eyed her skeptically.

“I told the undersheriff that Nicki had a boyfriend,” Tina said.

Lofton’s bushy eyebrow raised. “I believe you told him that was Edmund, didn’t you?”

She felt Edmund looking at her. “Um, I just said they’d been friends. I wasn’t sure. But I was wrong. It was Grant Demler, not Edmund.”

“She names Grant in this book?”

“Not directly. But everything she says about him fits.” Tina had planned out what she wanted to say, but now she was getting flustered. Why wasn’t Edmund helping? “He didn’t want anyone to know about their relationship. She was really upset, and felt like he’d lied to her. Nicki left some evidence in—”

“In a special place,” Edmund cut in. “To prove that she and Grant had a relationship. It’s still there.”

She wasn’t sure why Edmund stopped her from saying it was in the car. The sheriff could see that himself in the decoded diary entries. If he actually bothered to read them.

“What sort of evidence?”

“A picture of the two of them,” Tina supplied. “And…some underwear.”

Sheriff Lofton’s lips pursed with distaste. “I still don’t see how any of this, if true, suggests that Nicki was murdered. That’s a very serious accusation.”

“Well, we have reason to—”

“Yes, Miss Freeman, but what reason exactly?”

Tina waited for Edmund to speak up about the ghost. They’d talked about this on the bus. He’d agreed that being completely honest was the best strategy, no matter how strange the story seemed. Nicki’s diary and the evidence in Grant’s car would be enough corroboration, at least for the police to investigate further.

But he sat there, once again silent, his head bowed.

“Rosalee dated Grant last year, too, before she drowned,” Tina said. “Just like Nicki.”

“Which means nothing.” The sheriff stood. “I don’t know what you thought this would accomplish, but I’m going to do you a favor and pretend this never happened.”

“But what about—”

Edmund jumped up from his seat. He swept their papers and the notebook into a pile, tucking them under his arm. “Tina, let’s just go. He’s not going to listen.”

“But—”

“Let’s go.” Edmund pulled her up. The sheriff didn’t stop them. As Edmund hustled her toward the exit, Tina looked back over her shoulder. Sheriff Lofton sat behind his desk, shaking his head.

* * *

On the bus, Tina’s throat felt so tight she could barely speak.

“This was a mistake,” Edmund muttered.

“You didn’t even try,” she spit out.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. If I told him about the ghosts, that would just make it worse. Lofton was never going to believe us. He hates me, and that’s all that matters to him.”

“Why would he hate you?”

“Because of that stupid fight I got into with Grant!” Edmund ran a hand over his face. The bus stopped, and the only other passenger got out. “It was that day we were building the shed. Grant said things about my mom, and I said things back. Grant shoved me first, but it was my word against Grant and Mike, and of course no one believed me over them. My Aunt Diane’s the only reason I didn’t get thrown in jail for assault. She talked Lofton out of it. But to most of this town, I’m nothing but a screw-up and a blight on the Demler family name. I was stupid to think today would be any different.”

The notebook and translation papers lay in Tina’s lap, all in disarray. “But what about Nicki? All the work we did, decoding her notebook?”

“Nobody cares about people like us, Tina. You and me and Nicki and Rosalee. They’d be happier if we just disappeared. And when we do, they don’t bother asking too many questions.”

“That isn’t true,” she said weakly.

Wasn’t that the whole point of Shady Valley Camp for Girls? Some people cared. People like Diane and Vera. Diane was strict, but she obviously loved Edmund. She said she wanted the best for the girls in her charge.

“We can go to Diane instead,” Tina suggested. “She’ll give us a chance. She’ll listen.”

“No. It’s over.”

She kept trying to argue with him, but nothing she said got through. Edmund wouldn’t even respond.

They reached the stop near Shady Valley and got off. She and Edmund both walked slowly along the path toward the cabins. Tina felt like crying, but what was the point? They’d decoded Nicki’s notebook and found the evidence in Grant’s car, all for nothing.

Maybe Edmund was right. We don’t matter, Tina thought. In her darker moments in the past, she’d said similar things. But until now, she hadn’t truly believed it.

They’d almost reached the cabins when Grant and Mike stepped out of the woods.

The two men stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the path. Tina’s heart had lodged somewhere between her collarbones.

Grant took a menacing step forward. “What the hell did you do, you worthless piece of shit?”

Edmund pushed her behind his back. “Tina, run.”

She tried, but Mike cut her off. He grabbed her in a bear hug. She screamed, but his hand clamped over her mouth.

Grant advanced on Edmund. He was older and heavier, broader in the shoulders. But Edmund was strong, too. She’d felt the hard, ropey muscle beneath his skin.

“We only told the truth,” Edmund mumbled. “We know what you did.”

Grant spat on the ground. “You’re an effing liar. Thank God Sheriff Lofton knows what you are.” He threw a punch. Edmund dodged. They circled one another.

Grant feinted, then caught Edmund’s temple with a vicious hook. His head snapped to the side. A gash appeared at Edmund’s brow. Tina kicked her legs, struggling to get away, but Mike held her fast.

“Calm down,” Mike said to her, “and this’ll be over soon.”

“You wanted Nicki gone.” Edmund’s voice was low, guttural. “We have proof.”

“You’re a freaking psycho. You’re the reason my sister is dead. Rachel destroyed her life by giving birth to you, and now you won’t stop until you destroy the rest of us, too.”

With a cry, Edmund lunged. They sprawled in the dirt. Edmund straddled Grant’s chest. His fist struck out in a blur. Then again. Blood spurted from Grant’s nose.

Mike cursed, shoving Tina aside. He dragged Edmund off of Grant. Edmund’s fists and elbows were still flying. “Enough!” Mike shouted.

Tina ran to get help, but several camp girls were already converging, clogging up the path. “Is that a fight?” Tina’s roommate Jasmine asked. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Mike said. “It’s finished.” He helped Grant stand. The lower half of Grant’s face and his entire shirt were soaked with blood.

“Right, Edmund?” Mike asked. “Are we finished with this?”

“Yeah. We’re finished.” Red streamed from the wound at Edmund’s forehead. She reached for him, and he backed up a step.

Jasmine tugged on Tina’s shirt. “Hey, Diane was looking for you. She wanted to know where you’d been all day. You’re going to get demerits. What happened?”

“I can’t talk right now.”

“But Tina—”

“I just can’t.”

Edmund stumbled into the woods, and she ran after him. “Wait for me, please.”

He spun around. Blood had trickled down his cheek. “You should go. You’ll get in trouble.”

“So what? Please, don’t send me away.” She looped her arm through his. Edmund looked resigned. But he let her follow him.

He headed for the big house, which seemed like a bad idea. But where else could they go? Whatever happened next, she wasn’t going to leave him.

I won’t, she repeated in her head. I won’t leave him.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“You lied to me,” Penny said. “You told me you didn’t know who was responsible.”

Grant Demler was the killer. And she’d approached him in the bar just that afternoon, asking him questions. She’d touched his arm because Edmund made her do it.

And he’d known the whole time that she was provoking a murderer.

Edmund held her gaze. “I didn’t see any other way.”

“What happened, Penny?” Zandra asked. “What did he make you do?” She couldn’t read the specifics, apparently, though they hadn’t broken contact.

“It’s not important right now,” Edmund replied. “You know I’m telling the truth. I’m innocent.”

Penny shook her head. “But you tried to—”

Furious knocking interrupted them.

“Penny?” Anderson yelled. “Z?”

“She’s in here with me,” Zandra called. “We’re fine.”

The knob turned, and Anderson burst into the room. He took in the scene—Penny and Zandra sitting together on the bed, their hands still clasped.

Ben stood behind Anderson, peering over his shoulder, grease-stained bag of takeout in his hands.

“I told you not to, Zandra.” Anderson’s shoulders were rigid with tension, and a vein at his temple pulsed. “I was abundantly clear. And you’ve gone behind my back—”

“Penny’s vitals are stabilizing.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“That’s true,” Zandra said. “The point is that I spoke to Edmund myself. I can read him.”

“I asked her to do it,” Penny added, though this wasn’t completely accurate. Zandra had come up with the idea first.

“What did you find out?” Ben asked.

“That I’m telling the truth,” Edmund screamed at him.

Zandra winced at the ghost’s outburst. She slid her hands away from Penny’s. “We should discuss this in private. She’s dealt with enough for now.” Zandra got up and went to the door.

Edmund sat beside Penny on the bed. “They want to talk about us in secret. It’s freaking rude if you ask me.”

Stay away from me, Penny told him in her thoughts. I know exactly what you did—remember the bar? This afternoon?

He glanced away, but at least he had the courtesy to look guilty.

Anderson’s nostrils flared as he breathed. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, brushing past Ben on his way.

Zandra grabbed hold of Ben’s arm. “Stay with her, will you?” She trailed after Anderson, leaving Ben still in the doorway.

He set his paper bag on the dresser. “I guess I missed a few things. You hungry? I’ve got lunch.”

The smell of the food made her stomach turn. “Could I be alone for a moment, please?” Penny asked, her jaw tight. She wanted to speak to Edmund without the need to explain or translate. She was too angry for that.

Ben sighed and glanced in the direction Zandra had gone. “I’ll wait out here and monitor your vitals. Speak up if you need anything.”

The door swung almost closed. Penny turned to Edmund.

“You knew it was Grant,” she spit out. “You knew.”

“I wasn’t certain. I’m still not completely. Tina left my room that night, and she never came back. I don’t know what really happened to her after—I didn’t lie about that part.”

“But you’ve believed Grant was the killer this whole time.” She spoke with her teeth clenched, each word making her head pound. “You’re using me as bait.”

He sat back against the pillows, crossing his legs at the ankles. “So?”

The numbers on her vest flashed. Climbing upward. “What gives you the right—”

“My suffering,” he roared, leaping up to standing. “That’s what gives me the right.”

Penny went for the door, but Edmund stopped her with a thought. She froze in place, her hand reaching out for the knob. She tried to scream, but he forced her mouth to close on the sound.

“You wanted to be alone with me. You demand explanations. So now, you listen.” Edmund walked over to her. “Tina and me? The other girls? Nobody wanted us. Nobody cared. Grant killed us and they did nothing to stop him. They blamed the girls for their deaths, and then when Grant set me up, they were happy to blame me instead. That’s what gives me the freaking right.”

She remained immobile, her arm shaking as she tried to get to the door.

There was a footstep on the walkway just outside. “Hey, Penny?” Ben asked. “You okay?”

No, she thought. But her mouth moved differently, and she forced out the word, “Yes.” So Edmund could make her speak, too. At least it didn’t seem to be easy.

“You’re pretty and young,” Edmund went on. “Red hair, pale skin. You look like they did. A man like Grant? He doesn’t stop. Not really. He can bury what he wants but it still calls to him from underneath.”

You want him to come after me, she thought.

“I want him to reveal what he really is. So everyone will finally know.”

Then you’re practically as sick as him, she told him silently, because she still couldn’t speak aloud.

“You’re not in any real danger. Zandra and Anderson and Ben will protect you. Or the new sheriff, since he’s clearly got a hard-on for you. You’ll be fine.”

You could’ve asked me.

“If I’d asked, you would’ve refused. You’d have put on a whole entitled show of being wronged, just like you are now. But you don’t know what it is to be powerless. You’ve had people surrounding you all your life, Penny, showering you with love. Your perfect little Christmases. Family that cares if you’re happy. Matthew, desperate to love you. And what have you done when they asked too much? When you felt stifled or controlled? You abandoned each and every one of them, over and over again. Tina and I, we had nobody but each other, and Grant took that away. He took everything.”

Edmund grabbed her by the arms from behind, placing his mouth against her ear. “So if you think that I’d feel sorry for you, that I’d shed one single tear over you being put at risk, then you’re even dumber than I thought you were.”

The alarm on her vest rang out.

The door flew open, and Ben charged inside. “Penny, your vitals—”

Edmund pushed her, forcing her to step forward. The movement was so sudden that she slammed into Ben’s chest. He caught her before she fell.

When she turned around, Edmund had vanished from the room.

Demler Mansion - 1995

They went to the big house. They didn’t meet anybody along the way. Tina assumed that Diane was over at the lodge. Maybe she’d come looking for them, and maybe she wouldn’t. Tina didn’t care about getting demerits. She didn’t care about any of it anymore. She’d been playing along at the camp, pretending to be one of them. You’re a sweet girl, Diane had said.

But what did that even mean? Why be “good” when people were cruel either way?

They went through the kitchen and climbed the back stairs. Edmund sat on his bed. Blood dripped onto the sheets.

“I’ll go to the bathroom for a towel,” Tina said.

“No.” He picked up a t-shirt from the floor and pressed it to his forehead. “Just lock the door?”

She twisted the key, set it on the dresser, then went to sit beside him on the bed. He hung his head. Between that and the t-shirt balled against his wound, she couldn’t see his face.

“I hate this place,” he whispered. “I wish it would all burn.”

“Yeah. Me too. But they’re not worth it.”

He lay back against the pillow. She lay down, too, and took over pressing the fabric to the gash on his head.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Not really. Not as much as everything else.”

The bleeding slowed. Edmund got up and dug around in his closet until he found a Bandaid. Tina picked up a half-empty water bottle from the floor.

“Come here,” she said, pouring water onto another discarded shirt.

He sat, and she gently cleaned his face. The bandage covered the cut. It wasn’t bad, just messy. Grant had gotten a lot worse. He’d hit Edmund, but maybe when it came down to it, he’d hesitated. Maybe he just liked hurting weaker people. Girls.

“Is Nicki’s ghost here?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s just us.”

Tina kept expecting that someone would come banging on the door. Demanding explanations. Even hauling Edmund off to jail for hitting Grant, even though Grant had started it. Edmund was right—they’d been foolish to hope that Sheriff Lofton would ever take their word. There would be no justice for Nicki or Rosalee.

But Tina couldn’t accept that.

“If nobody will listen to us in Crimson Falls, then screw this town,” she said. “We could go to Denver and stay at my mom’s house. Maybe the police there will listen to us. If they think Sheriff Lofton is covering for Grant, they might come to Crimson Falls and investigate.”

Her mom and step-dad wouldn’t be thrilled about Tina bringing a guy home. But once Mom heard their story, she’d understand. At least, Mom wouldn’t kick them out.

He hadn’t said anything. “What do you think?” she asked.

“You should go without me.”

“Why?” She got up from the bed, hugging herself around the middle. “You have to tell the police what you know.”

“Nobody will believe it.”

“But I do!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Grant is right about me.” He turned his head, averting his gaze. “I ruin everything I touch,” he whispered.

“I feel that way sometimes, too. But it’s only true if we let it be.”

“Now you sound like Diane.”

“Come with me. Please.” She was so sick of crying, especially in front of him. “Even if nobody believes us, I still want you there. I need you.”

“Why?”

I love you, she thought, but was afraid to say it. “Because I care about you.”

He winced, like the words hurt him. “I’ve never thought about leaving Crimson Falls. I didn’t think I could.”

“Because your mom’s spirit is here?”

“It’s not that. Diane’s here, and she’s maybe the only person who ever cared about me before. Her life would probably be easier if I left. But I didn’t think I’d ever have anybody else.”

Tina knelt on the floor in front of him so she could see his face. “You have me,” she murmured. “If you want me.”

Edmund clasped the back of her neck and brought his forehead to hers.

“Do you?” she asked. “Want me?” She tilted her chin upward, pressing her lips to his mouth. “Because I want you.”

Edmund pulled her up into his lap. “I do. I love you. But—”

Even with all the ugliness of that day, she couldn’t help but grin, as if light were filling her up inside and spilling out. “Don’t say ‘but.’ Don’t ruin it. We love each other, and that’s the only thing that matters.” She kissed his ear and his neck, her hands pushing under his shirt to reach more of his skin.

People like Vera and Diane threw around the terms “good” and “bad,” as if those meaningless words could describe the inner workings of a person’s soul.

“I think you’re beautiful,” she murmured to him, and he laughed. The sound was heartbroken and joyful all at once.

What she and Edmund had together, this connection that had bloomed in the wake of Nicki’s death—it seemed impossible, and that only made it more precious. Tina wanted to cup her hands around that small flower and protect it from the rest of the world.

* * *

A loud creak woke her in the night. It took her a moment to remember where she was—Edmund’s room, under his covers, his arm slung across her bare stomach. His body radiated warmth. Blueish light trickled in through his window, enough to see his sleeping profile on the pillow.

There was another creak. It had come from the hallway. Maybe right outside the room. Her throat tightened.

Was someone out there?

“Edmund,” Tina whispered. She touched his shoulder.

His eyes drifted open, and he smiled. A real, full-on smile with teeth, and she couldn’t even enjoy it.

“I think someone’s out in the hall,” she said.

The smile vanished. He pushed back the covers and got out of bed. His skin looked blue as he padded across the room.

Carefully, he knelt to look through the keyhole.

“Nobody there,” he said. “The house might’ve been settling.” He returned to the bed and slid in beside her. “I don’t think any of them came back last night.”

Tina exhaled. “Good. Sorry I woke you.”

“I’m not.” He pulled her against him and kissed her collarbone. “Did I mention that I love you? And I want you?”

“A few times, yeah. Actually, I should go get my stuff. This is the perfect time.”

The alarm clock on his nightstand said it was three in the morning. If she went now, everybody at the cabin would be asleep.

They’d already planned to head straight into town in the morning and buy tickets for the bus to Denver. But if she grabbed her belongings now, and they set out right away, they’d be gone before anybody at the camp noticed. The local bus wouldn’t run this early, but it was only a forty-minute walk.

She reached down for her jeans.

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Just wait a sec.”

“No, you pack your things while I’m gone. That’ll be faster. I’ll meet you by the back door in half an hour.”

“I’d rather we stay together.”

Tina pulled on her shirt and pressed her lips to his cheek. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” She was only going to the other side of the lake. Nobody would even see her.

“You promise?”

“Of course. And then we’ll never leave each other again.”

One more kiss, and he let her go.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Penny, what happened?” Ben asked.

She pushed past him and stumbled out of the cabin. She was shaking, and her skin tingled painfully. But at least Edmund was gone for the moment. He might still be watching, but she couldn’t stand hearing his voice any longer.

Ben followed her. “Should I get Anderson?”

“I don’t want to discuss it right now.”

Those cruel things Edmund had said. What he’d done. She couldn’t believe she’d felt sorry for him. Even trusted him. She braced herself for his laughter and his taunts. Neither came.

A lump had gathered in her throat. A tear hovered at the corner of her eye, threatening to fall. An endless cascade would probably follow.

You abandoned each and every one of them, over and over again, Edmund had said.

He’d lied about some things. But he hadn’t lied about that.

Vera stepped out of the lodge. “Ben, Penny, there you are. I was getting worried. What was going on earlier, when—” She came closer and saw Penny rub the tear from her eye. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Penny said. “I’m okay.”

Vera clutched at the neckline of her sweater. “I really don’t understand what’s been happening. Trey said he found you with Grant Demler at the bar?”

Penny laughed, though it came out stilted. “I guess my interview techniques need some work.”

Vera approached her, lowering her voice. She cast a wary glance toward Ben. “I’ve been hearing a lot of strong voices.”

Ben shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’ve been relegated to the doorman around here.”

Penny was fresh out of excuses.

“I realize you and I don’t know each other well,” Vera said, “but if you need help, you can come to me. I spoke to your boyfriend earlier, Matthew. He was trying to find you. I could call him.”

She’d spoken to Matthew? “No. Thank you. It’s hard to explain what’s going on because I hardly understand myself, but I promise I’m fine. Except for a killer headache.”

Ben nodded his head toward Zandra’s cabin. “Will you at least talk to Z? She and Anderson are still trying to figure out what to do.”

Penny nodded, turning to go.

“Wait.” Vera touched Penny’s elbow. “I came out here for a different reason. I just got off the phone with Trey. He’s on his way up here to speak with all of you. It’s about the Demler case.”

* * *

They gathered in the lodge to meet with Sheriff Lofton. Penny could tell that the others were unsure of her presence; Zandra and Anderson had argued quietly, while Ben simply threw up his hands.

I’m still part of this team, Penny had said. That was enough to convince them. Besides, Edmund was lying low. Penny had even checked her reflection in several windows. Edmund hadn’t reappeared, though he wasn’t gone completely. The hairs on the back of her neck raised periodically with the sensation of being watched.

She’d left the tech vest in her room, though. The thing seemed useless. It was boxy and heavy and made her shoulders cramp.

The door opened. Vera came into the lodge, followed by the sheriff. Then another man stepped into the room, using a cane though he appeared to be no older than his early fifties.

“Everyone,” Trey Lofton said, “this is my father. Mike Lofton the second. Previous sheriff before me.”

Mike nodded hello.

“This might not be the best time for a witness interview,” Anderson said. His voice didn’t have its usual smooth cadence, and his black shirt was wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up. Still, Anderson had a commanding presence that drew all of their attention. “We’ve been dealing with a small situation.”

“Vera suggested as much on the phone,” Trey Lofton replied. “We wouldn’t be here unless it was important.”

They all found seats around the long dining table. Mike took one end; Anderson sat at the other.

Mike was handsome, his arms and shoulders still muscular, gray dusting the hair at his temples. He rested his elbows on the table. Like Anderson, he exuded a natural air of authority. When he spoke, his tone was that of a man used to being respected.

“As my son said, I was sheriff before him. Retired early last year because of my back issues. Originally, I took over after my own father retired. Dad was sheriff in 1995, when the murders took place. Back when Edmund was alive. And from what I hear, you’ve been asking questions about that investigation.”

“We’ve noticed some discrepancies,” Ben said. He didn’t try to hide his skepticism.

Penny thought of her visit to the Sheriff’s Office yesterday—though it felt like last year—to review the files. Ben had realized right away that things were missing. Now, the entire Mercury team knew that Edmund was innocent.

But what did Mike know? What did the current sheriff—Trey Lofton—know?

“I’d like a chance to explain,” Mike said.

Anderson stood, resting his palms on the table. “Your son already signed a contract giving us access to the official files. Generally, we’re only interested in hauntings, not re-opening closed cases. We certainly didn’t come here looking to undermine the previous investigation. But if we find new evidence, we aren’t about to look the other way.”

“You misunderstand. I’m not asking you to cover anything up. I’ve come to tell you the truth. My father’s the one who concealed evidence. Trey didn’t know. But I did.” His son tried to speak, but Mike held up his hand. “No, it’s past time I admitted my role in this. I’m ready to face the consequences.”

Zandra and Penny shared a glance. Penny couldn’t tell what Zandra was thinking, but it probably had something to do with their conversation a little while ago.

Grant Demler.

Anderson lowered himself back into his seat. “Then by all means—explain.”

“Back in ’95, Grant and I were close friends. Brothers-in-law, both working for my father as deputies. I’d pretty much settled down by then. I’d married Grant’s younger sister not long before, and she was pregnant with Trey.” He nodded at his son. “But Grant, he didn’t show any intentions of getting married and starting a family. Instead, he had a new girl almost every month. He particularly liked the girls from Shady Valley Camp, even though Diane had warned him away often enough. So had I.”

“He was seeing Rosalee,” Penny said. “And then Nicki.”

Mike looked over at her, surprised. “Was it Vera who told you?”

“It wasn’t me,” Vera protested. “I hadn’t thought about all that in ages. To be honest, I don’t even see why you’re rehashing Grant’s history.”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Mike sighed, running a hand over the cleft at his chin. “Dad brought Grant in, unofficially, to ask him a few questions. My father gave Grant a talking-to about being smarter. Staying away from impressionable young women.”

“Typical,” Zandra muttered.

“I know, we were blinded by our assumptions. We were the fools. We didn’t understand that Rosalee and Nicki were murdered until Tina’s death.”

“But your father still let Grant go free?” Penny said. “You blamed Edmund and you covered up the truth about four murders.” Penny couldn’t decide what was more shocking—that Mike had helped protect the real killer and put other women at risk of a serial predator? Or that he was sitting here, admitting to all of it?

“No. No, that’s not how it was at all.”

Penny was going to argue more, but Zandra put her hand on Penny’s knee. “Hold on,” she murmured. “He’s telling the truth.”

“The sheriff, my father, left certain information out of the files. But after Tina and Edmund died, we did investigate. Hell, my father even questioned me, because Grant and I had gotten into a fight with Edmund the day that he died.” Mike was flustered, and his cheeks had turned a deep shade of red. “Let me back up a little. Tina and Edmund came to my father at the Sheriff’s Office in town. They accused Grant of killing Nicki and Rosalee. But my dad, he dismissed the whole thing. He already knew about Grant dating the girls—because Grant had told him. Edmund was just blowing smoke, stirring up trouble. Dad called to give me a head’s up about Edmund’s claims. And Grant and I, we confronted the kid. After the dust-up, Diane told us to go back to my dad’s house for the night. Cool off. We weren’t anywhere near Shady Valley when Tina died and Edmund set the fire.”

“But Grant could’ve snuck back in the night,” Penny said. “Your alibi isn’t worth much.”

“He couldn’t have, though. That night, I stayed up late with Grant. He was all riled up about Edmund, pissed off about being accused of hurting Rosalee and Nicki. We started drinking, and Grant didn’t stop. After a while he was wasted beyond all reason. I was afraid he’d either do something idiotic, like going after Edmund, or choke to death on his own vomit. So I stayed up watching TV until nearly dawn. Grant didn’t budge. Andrea, my wife, woke up a couple of times in the night—she was pregnant then—and she saw us both. When the phone woke me, saying there’d been a fire at the Demler place, Grant was still there. Passed out. I swear it.”

Penny looked to Zandra, who nodded.

True.

“This is exactly why my father left the details about Grant out of the file—he didn’t want Grant’s name dragged through the mud unfairly. It was wrong, of course. I could’ve corrected the records a long time ago, and that’s my fault. But please, don’t punish Grant and the rest of his family for some shoddy record-keeping over twenty years ago. None of it changes the truth about what happened—Edmund killed those girls.”

Penny glanced over at Zandra again, but she didn’t understand the expression on Zandra’s face.

Anderson thanked the man for coming and walked out with the Loftons to their car. Vera had already disappeared.

“Vera’s upset,” Zandra murmured to Penny. “She’s not angry at us—more at herself. But she wishes that we’d leave Shady Valley.”

“But what’s your verdict, Z?” Ben asked. “Was Mike lying?”

“Oh, it was true. All of it, to the best of his knowledge. But we still don’t know for sure about Rosalee and Nicki. We only know that Grant Demler couldn’t have killed Tina or Edmund.”

“But Edmund said that Grant killed him,” Penny reminded her. “And according to you, that wasn’t a lie, either.”

“Edmund wasn’t lying,” Zandra said. “But he was speaking from belief. He didn’t actually see Grant do it, right?”

“I guess not. But Edmund told us, unequivocally, that he didn’t kill the girls either.”

If Edmund and Grant both hadn’t done it, who did?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Vera shook so hard she could barely hold her phone to her ear.

Diane picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi. I’m sorry it’s been so long. I just hoped we could talk.”

“What is it?” Diane asked. “You sound upset.”

Vera was back in her cottage, sitting on her couch with a crocheted blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Everything that Mike Lofton had said—it had shocked her, hearing their sordid history laid out that way. In front of strangers, no less.

She explained to Diane about Mike’s visit. The Mercury Group’s investigation.

“This is my fault,” Vera said, sniffling. Her glasses were fogging up. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn, none of this would be happening. Terrible things from back then, things I hadn’t even realized—it’s all coming out.”

“You sit tight. I’m on my way.”

They hung up, and Vera went to make some tea.

Even all these years later, she didn’t regret marrying into the Demler family. She remembered how handsome Sylas had been when he returned from his overseas deployment—his face leaner and harder than she’d remembered, but his smile so warm that it melted her from the inside-out. That was after the fire at the big house, and the media tsunami that followed. Sylas had swept her up in his arms and made her feel safe again.

Plenty of people kept saying to demolish the whole property—both Demler Mansion and Shady Valley Camp. But Sylas had seen enough destruction. He wanted to rebuild his family home. That was back when they’d believed children were coming. They’d believed in miracles.

But the years passed, and no miracles arrived. Their hotel struggled to make enough money to keep them fed, much less fund a renovation of the big house.

Then cancer came for Sylas.

Somehow, Vera had managed to cling onto small threads of hope. She still had the cabins, and guests occasionally did come. She chose to ignore the fact that they came to bask in the dark ambiance of the ruined Demler Mansion. She ignored the whispers that the place was haunted.

But when Hannah Eckert fell last month, and Vera could no longer ignore the truth right in front of her, everything had suddenly made sense. There was a curse on the Demler family. A curse upon that house—that was why Edmund had done such awful things. That was why so many Demlers ended up alcoholic or depressed, unable to even use their real names in public for fear of judgment. Or they ended up dead, like Edmund’s mother. Or Vera’s beloved Sylas.

So Vera had readily accepted when her nephew Trey suggested the Mercury Group. They’re offering to get rid of the haunting, free of charge. They’ve promised to be discreet.

The kettle shrieked. Vera reached for two mugs from her shelf. She couldn’t even remember what kind of tea Diane liked; it had been so long. After everyone found out what Edmund had done, Diane said she couldn’t in good conscience keep running the Shady Valley Camp for Girls. It wasn’t that anybody blamed her. But Diane’s heart was broken. Her optimism, her drive to save the world—all gone, crushed the day that Edmund’s crimes came to light. Vera had suspected that Diane resented her for taking over Shady Valley, running it as a hotel.

And now, Mike Lofton’s confession. He’d married into the Demler family, just like Vera. And look where it had gotten him. His reputation would be ruined, and his father’s memory would be stained.

There was indeed a curse on the Demlers, and Vera had been stupid to think she could ever break it. She’d made a mistake when she allowed the Mercury Group to come here.

So long as Demler Mansion still stood, that sickness would eventually infect the rest of the family, dragging them down until nothing was left but ignominy and ruin.

Diane knocked at the back door.

“It’s unlocked.”

She came in. Diane had dressed in a dark raincoat with the hood up.

“Is it raining?” Vera asked.

“No, I just wanted to avoid those ghost people. I’m tired of their questions.”

“I am, too.”

Vera had enjoyed Penny’s company last night. But all the drama today, the goings-on related to Penny that Vera still couldn’t understand—that was the curse at work, too.

All my fault, Vera thought again. The sooner I end this, the better.

Diane removed her rain coat and hung it on a hook. The dining chair groaned when she sat, sighing heavily.

“Would you like green tea, or black?” Vera asked. “I also have decaf.”

“Nothing, thanks. Unless you have coffee?”

“I’m out. Quite the host I’m being. I’d offer you a cookie, but I’ve only got those sugar free monstrosities.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You said ‘this is my fault.’ What did you mean?”

Vera slid into the chair next to Diane’s. “You said we should tear this place down. The cabins, the big house. You were right.” She told Diane about the curse. “I even lost Sylas, and I still refused to listen. Everyone who’s been hurt in the years since? That’s on me. People are being hurt right now because I wouldn’t let go. But I’m finally done. No more.”

First thing tomorrow morning, she’d ask her nephew Trey for help arranging the demolition.

Diane nodded slowly, considering this. “Where will you go? This place is your livelihood. Your home.”

Vera suppressed a sob. “I hoped you might have an opening at The Stagecoach Diner? Remember back to our camp days? I wasn’t too bad in the kitchen. I cooked more tuna casserole suppers than I can count.”

“I’m afraid tuna casserole isn’t a popular menu option at the diner.”

“We had some good times back then, didn’t we?” Vera asked, laughing. “I know it all ended in the worst possible way. But I loved our work. I loved the girls.” She thought of Tina, who’d been trying so hard to find her way. She hadn’t made it back home. But other girls had gained from the experience, surely.

“I loved them, too,” Diane said. “Every one. Even when they disappointed me.”

Vera got up to finish making her tea. “I spoke to Tina that last day. I’d seen her with Edmund. I thought they were in love. Why didn’t I stop her? Why didn’t I see him for who he really was?”

“I tried, too. But sometimes you can’t see clearly until you’re so close that it’s too late.”

Vera poured hot water over the tea bag. She thought of that last night—the night Tina had died. The girls had been in the dining room, abuzz about the fight between Edmund and Grant. Diane had come in and commanded they find something better to do.

Vera’s mug clinked as she set it down. “Mike told us how he and Grant went to stay with Mike’s father that evening.” He had said it was Diane’s idea. She’d told them to cool off after the fight with Edmund.

“Thank goodness for that,” Diane said. “They could’ve been injured by the fire.”

“Very lucky.”

Suddenly, that night was so clear in Vera’s head. Like it had been a day ago instead of twenty-five years. The way the sirens had roared, waking everyone at the camp before dawn.

“But where were you that night?” Vera asked. Mike hadn’t said, and it just occurred to Vera that Diane could’ve been injured, too, if she’d been at the big house when Edmund set the fire.

Diane frowned. “Don’t you remember? I stayed at Shady Valley, like always.”

Back then, Diane, Vera and a couple of the other staff ladies usually slept over in the cottage—the same building that Vera lived in now.

“But is that right?” Vera asked. “I remember that morning when the sirens woke me. You weren’t there.” Diane and Vera had shared the loft, and Diane’s bed hadn’t been slept in. When Vera ran outside, she’d found chaos—girls running, smoke billowing from the big house.

She hadn’t seen Diane at all until later that day, but with all the madness and the firefighters and police, she hadn’t thought for one moment about it. Not until now. And it was no wonder—everyone had only wanted to talk about Edmund.

Vera turned, and Diane was looking at her strangely. Like her face had turned to marble.

“Where were you that night?” Vera asked.

Diane’s chair squeaked as she pushed back from the table. “I was at the big house.”

“You were?” Vera set down the kettle. “Did you see him—Edmund?”

“I did.” Diane was looking down, not at Vera’s face. She came closer, standing beside Vera at the stove.

“Dear Lord.” That must’ve been terrifying. Vera was about to ask if Diane had smelled the smoke or even seen the flames, but the other woman had such a foreboding expression. It was the same way the doctor had looked just before he announced Sylas’s cancer was terminal.

“What’s wrong?” Vera asked.

“I never wanted any of this.” Diane’s voice was scratchy, hoarse. “But sometimes, we’re called to make sacrifices for family. You understand that?”

“Well, I—”

Diane dug into her pants pocket and came out with something clutched inside her fist.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

When Anderson walked back into the lodge, Zandra pulled him aside. “Could I have a word? Privately?”

Mike and Trey Lofton had left a few minutes ago, and Ben had brought their lunch in, even though it was getting closer to dinner by now. Penny and Ben remained at the table in the sitting room, both picking at their food.

Zandra walked Anderson over near the front desk, where they’d be out of sight and ear shot. The valley looked peaceful from the windows, the sun once again curving downwards on its path to the western horizon.

“Why so cautious?” Anderson asked. “Edmund’s back?”

“Penny said he hasn’t returned. But it’s only a matter of time.”

Edmund had believed for all these years that Grant was responsible for his death. He’d plotted out revenge, only to discover that Grant couldn’t have been the killer after all. But Zandra doubted that Edmund would let go of vengeance so easily.

“We need to act now,” she said, “before Edmund does.”

Anderson smoothed a hand over his goatee.

Zandra lowered her voice even further. “It’s time that we get the emergency bag and take Penny out of the equation. Please, Anderson. Before she gets hurt. I spoke to Edmund earlier—I know he’s not going to give up until he gets payback for what he’s suffered. If he can’t find the real culprit, he’s going to lash out. Who’s he going to blame?”

Anderson’s jaw made a hard line as he thought. “Let me speak with Penny first. Then, I’ll decide.”

Zandra bit down on her protest. Every minute they waited, Edmund had more time to plot. But Anderson was the boss.

They went back to the table. Ben was scrolling his phone. Penny looked up, pushing the rest of her food aside.

“Has our friend reappeared?” Anderson asked, spinning a chair and sitting on it backwards.

“Not yet,” Penny replied. “What does that mean?”

“I wish I knew.”

Ben set down his phone. “Z said that Vera wants us to leave Shady Valley. Is that what you two were talking about?” His eyes flicked over to Zandra. So her little conference with Anderson hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“No,” Anderson said smoothly. “Although it’s true that Vera didn’t have to make her cabins available to us; she was simply doing the Mercury Group a favor. But we may leave regardless. Penny, I’m considering taking you into Denver tomorrow morning to see some parapsychologists I’ve worked with. They’ll examine you, run some tests. They may be able to provide answers.”

“How long would I be there?”

He opened his hands. “That, I can’t predict.”

Penny closed her eyes. Her aura simmered with frustration. “You told me you’d train me to control my ability. Not turn me into a research project. This was only supposed to be temporary.”

“No, you assumed your time with us would be temporary. I never promised you’d learn control in a matter of weeks. Zandra and Ben have spent years honing their gifts, and they still have more to do.”

Penny looked from Ben to Zandra, as if they were responsible for Anderson’s deception.

“I’m sorry, Penny,” Zandra said. “I tried to tell you before.”

She rested her palms on the table. “What if I refuse to be studied?”

Anderson inclined his head. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re free to leave. But is that really what you want—for Edmund Demler to follow you, clinging to your mind wherever you go? To always feel him watching over your shoulder?”

“So you’ll help me, but only on your terms.”

“That’s not opportunistic, Penny. That’s just life. I’m not the villain here.”

Ben’s chair scraped back as he got up. “If you have to say that out loud, it begs the question. Penny deserves some kind of reassurance that she’ll be protected.”

“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Zandra said, and immediately knew she’d spoken prematurely. Anderson hadn’t made any decision yet.

“How?” Penny demanded. “What are you not telling me?”

Anderson frowned. Now you’ve done it, his energy said. “I consider myself responsible for whatever happens to any one of you. But I’ll admit, I’ve been unsure of how to handle your situation. Zandra has suggested that the safest course may be…restraining you.”

Ben rounded on her. “Z, are you serious?”

“It would just be for tonight, until we can get her safely to Anderson’s colleagues. But only if Penny consents.”

“You want to tie me up?” Her aura pulsed with horror.

“Or sedate you. It’s completely your choice.”

“My choice.” She laughed without a trace of humor.

Penny’s aura shrank, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. It was a defense mechanism. She didn’t want to do this.

Yet she knew that Zandra was right. Edmund wasn’t just going to wait around. He was probably already planning an escape.

“We need to move quickly,” Zandra warned. “Before…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

Penny gave a single nod. “Then give me something to knock me out. Just for tonight. When we get to Denver, I want to know exactly what’s going on. And I want my boyfriend and my family involved in all decisions going forward, in case I’m…not available.”

“That’s acceptable,” Anderson said. “I’ll get the bag.” He strode out of the lodge. Ben paced across the room. Penny sat completely still, staring at the table.

Zandra pulled up the chair beside her. “I’m going to stay with you the whole time. Not just tonight—whatever happens, okay? I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Penny murmured, though her energy said that her mind was far away. Probably thinking of the people she loved. Home.

“I’m not going anywhere, either,” Ben said. “I’ll be the guy who does snack runs, so place your orders. Otherwise, I’m getting SmartWater and baked chips.”

Zandra groaned. Penny produced a reasonable facsimile of a smile.

Anderson returned with the emergency bag. He handed it to Zandra. “Get Penny situated for the night. I need to make some calls.”

Zandra found the blister pack of tablets. “These will make you sleep soundly at least twelve hours, possibly longer.”

“What if I wake up too soon?”

“I’ll give you another dose. We’ll make sure everything is set up to get you to Denver without any problems.”

“What if Edmund tries to control my body even when I’m knocked out? I have no idea if he could, but—”

Zandra opened the bag so that Penny could see the rest of the contents: velcro straps, rubber bite guards. A straight jacket. “We’ll only use what’s absolutely necessary. If you like, I can walk you through each device and explain it all, step by step. So you’ll know what might happen while you’re out.”

But Penny averted her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m sure you’ll do what makes sense. How long will it take for the pills to kick in?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“I’ll take them now. But I’d like to have my hands free so I can get ready? And call Matthew?” Her voice caught.

“That’ll be fine.”

Ben went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Penny took one tablet, then another, her throat moving as she swallowed. On the surface, she seemed impressively calm. But her energy was all over the place. Zandra squeezed her hand.

“Let’s head back to your room and get you comfortable.”

Only twenty minutes until Penny would be safely unconscious. To Zandra, it still felt like a very long time.

Chapter Thirty

They walked out of the lodge with Penny in the middle, Zandra and Ben flanking her on either side. Penny felt like a defendant marching toward her court date.

She was really doing it—giving up and leaving town. Never mind that a serial killer could be going free. Even with everything Edmund had done, the way he’d put her at risk, she still felt she owed him more than that.

They reached her room, and Penny went inside. Zandra and Ben waited just beyond her open doorway.

“If you want,” Zandra said, “I could track down a sleeping bag for myself. So you’d be more comfortable.”

“No, it’s fine.” It would be a little tight in the full-size bed, but it wasn’t like Penny had any privacy at the moment. She needed to call Matthew and her parents before she went to sleep, so they’d know what was going on. That wouldn’t be pleasant—especially with Zandra listening in.

“Cocoa?” Zandra asked.

“Why not.”

Ben saluted. “I can handle cocoa. I’ll be right back.”

Zandra came into the room, and the door quietly snicked closed. “You want to talk? Ask any questions?”

Penny crossed her arms, glancing into the reflective surface of the TV. Still no Edmund. “We know that an innocent kid got blamed for three murders, and we’re doing nothing? We’re just going to leave?”

“This is a tough part of the job. Sometimes, we find things out that we can’t prove in a court of law. That’s the nature of this work. Hey, listen.” Zandra waited until Penny looked at her. “We’ll come back to clear the haunting eventually, but our priority right now is you.”

Then why do I feel like my opinion matters least right now? Penny thought. Zandra kept asking what she wanted, as if she had any choices but one. Her skin felt hot. “I need to use the restroom.”

“I’ll be right outside.”

She closed the door and washed her face. The water dripped from her nose and chin into the sink. She grabbed a towel, rubbing it against her skin, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent.

When Penny looked into the mirror, she found Edmund there, standing right behind her.

He looked haggard. Dark circles beneath his eyes, cracks at his lower lip like he’d been chewing it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“You heard everything, I’m guessing,” she whispered.

“You can’t leave Crimson Falls.”

“I’m sorry. I wish it could be different.”

“Anderson said you don’t have to go with them. You’re not a prisoner.”

She laughed, closing her mouth to muffle the sound. “Not Anderson’s prisoner, maybe.”

Edmund had threatened her. Pushed her. Forced her into the path of a man he believed to be a killer. She could empathize with his desperation. But she’d be a fool to trust him. Nor did she trust Anderson completely, or even Zandra. I’m on my own, she thought. Maybe for the first time in her life, she was truly alone. Matthew couldn’t help her, nor could her family. They could only stand by her side—if Anderson let them get that close—and hope for the best.

Zandra knocked on the bathroom door. “Everything okay?”

“I’ll be right out,” she called.

She needed to finish this conversation with Edmund. He’d been through so many terrible things. She had to make him understand.

He appeared fully in the room, standing in front of the door. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It wasn’t true. I do care about you. But you have to help me, Penny. Please. I don’t have anyone else.”

“Help you do what? You were wrong about Grant.”

“What about Mike Lofton? He’s got to be lying. Maybe he’s even the killer!”

“That’s not possible. Zandra said he was telling the truth about everything—including his alibi for the night you and Tina died. He didn’t even know Rosalee or Nicki had been murdered until after. It’s over, Edmund.”

“No, it can’t be.”

She knew she was taking a risk by even speaking to him; any moment until she was unconscious, he could try to control her again. “But you said you don’t want to hurt me. I believe that. You want to prove you’re not what they say. This is your chance. Let me go.”

His face crumpled. Tears fell onto his cheeks.

She took a step closer and rested a hand on his chest. A heart thumped beneath his t-shirt. Penny didn’t know if he had actual substance to him, or if her own mind filled in the blanks. Yet he felt so real. He was still the same scared kid that he’d been the day he died, longing for acceptance. For love.

“If you give up your hold on me,” she said, “I won’t have to leave town. I’ll stay in Crimson Falls and make sure your name is cleared.” She’d find a way. Somehow. “I bet that Zandra and Ben will help me.”

Indecision played across his face. “I can’t let go of you. I don’t know how.”

“I think you do. You’re just afraid.”

If he left Penny now, he’d have nothing to hold on to in the living world. She could offer to return him to Demler Mansion, but neither of them knew if that would work. Besides, she couldn’t imagine that he would ever choose to go back to that existence—so close to the ghosts of Tina, Nicki and his mother, and yet unable to communicate with them. Utterly alone.

“Penny?” The door muffled Zandra’s voice. “Your energy is really turbulent.”

“I just need another minute,” she called out. Then she lowered her voice again. “You don’t belong here anymore, Edmund. The dead are supposed to move on.”

“You just want to abandon me. Like everyone else.”

“No. I want you to be free.”

He threw his hands to his face. His body contorted, swirling and reforming like a reflection in a fun-house mirror. He screamed, and the force pushed Penny backward. She caught herself against the shower door. The glass vibrated in its frame.

“What’s going on?” Zandra cried.

He forced Penny lock the door just as Zandra jiggled the handle.

“I won’t ever let you go,” Edmund snarled.

Penny’s fingers shoved into her throat. She retched. Stomach acid and pills splashed into the sink.

“Penny!” Zandra pounded on the door.

She tried to call out to Zandra, but he wouldn’t let her speak. She was a puppet, and Edmund pulled the strings.

Her hand reached for the window latch. Edmund made her open it and climb through. Her arm scraped against the frame. She didn’t even have shoes, but he neither noticed nor cared. Her bare feet landed in the dirt, and she ran.

Chapter Thirty-One

Anderson sat down in front of his laptop to check his email. He had several responses already from colleagues in Denver.

If we can confirm the entity is para-sensitive, that’ll be huge, one had written. Journal articles will write themselves. I’ve cleared my schedule tomorrow. Will be expecting you.

Anderson jotted a quick response, confirming their approximate arrival time. They only had to make it through tonight.

The quip about journal articles nagged at him, though. He might’ve thought something along those lines, just in passing. But hearing it from someone else made him acknowledge how callous it sounded.

Zandra and Penny both had accused him of caring more about research than his team. That wasn’t true.

At least, he didn’t want that to be true.

Anderson had started out his career as a parapsychologist. He’d written dozens of articles, taught classes at one of the few universities to offer a rigorous program on the subject. He had little talent himself—just a touch of precognition, nothing remarkable. But his younger sister was a medium. His interest in the paranormal became intensely personal when she nearly died. Not long after, the Mercury Group had approached him.

Anderson had told Penny this story. He’d known that she was skeptical of his motives. But he’d told her the truth. Or perhaps the version of the truth that best suited Penny’s mindset. Some might accuse him of sugar-coating. Or they’d outright call it manipulation. But Anderson didn’t believe in one single, true narrative. Each person, both living and dead, brought their own perspectives and biases. Created, in a way, their very own version of reality.

But some accounts were truer than others. It was time that Penny—and even Zandra and Ben—understood and accepted that.

He’d expected that Penny would inject an element of unpredictability into this case. From what he’d seen, her talent was off the charts. That was why he wanted such a large team. But he’d decided to lean into the unknown—bringing in Ben Kwan, fresh from his disciplinary hearing and probation ruling. And Zandra, still smarting from the recent retirement of her longtime partner. Anderson anticipated some tension, even some arguments. But he would be there to supervise everyone, so he hadn’t been worried.

Edmund Demler was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill psychotic ghost. Dangerous, sure. But no match for three powerful mediums with access to the technology and resources of the Mercury Group.

Anderson hadn’t counted on Edmund being a medium himself.

Even worse, he hadn’t anticipated that Edmund might actually be innocent.

If he’d realized that Edmund was falsely accused—and a murder victim—Anderson would never have taken his team into that house unprepared. Any decent parapsychologist would’ve predicted that an innocent ghost, wronged in such a way, would be far more motivated than the lingering spirit of a killer.

One more night, he thought. They still had much to prepare. Methodically, Anderson packed up his clothes from the closet and drawers.

He picked up the room phone and dialed the lodge, but Vera didn’t answer. He hadn’t yet told her they were checking out.

He’d bent over the desk to close his computer when the itching started.

At first it was just a mild distraction, a few random neurons misfiring. But soon it spread across his limbs. An unbearable itch on the underside of his skin. Impossible to ignore.

The knowledge appeared in his mind: Edmund’s taken her.

Anderson grabbed his phone. Zandra hadn’t written. He tried calling her number, but Zandra didn’t answer.

Like most para-sensitives, Anderson’s talent had arisen at an early age. But precognition rarely expressed as strongly as other sensitivities. For Anderson, these flashes of insight often came too late for him to plan ahead. All he could do was react.

Outside, the itch told him. Hurry.

Anderson’s feet propelled him forward, though he hardly knew where he was going. The cars sat in the parking lot, undisturbed. He started toward Penny’s room.

Behind the cabins, his gut said.

Anderson cut between the buildings. He heard shouting, and though the sound was muffled, he could make out Zandra’s voice. Penny’s bathroom window was open. He ran toward it.

“Penny?” he called out. “Zandra? Can you hear me?”

There was a loud crash. Wood splintering. Zandra rushed into the bathroom. “Anderson, she’s gone!”

The cars.

He changed direction, heading back toward the parking lot. As he rounded one of the cabins, the incessant itch morphed into a scream. Anderson tried to veer to the side, but Penny had already stepped out from behind the building. Understanding flared in Anderson’s body—a visceral knowledge that far outpaced his rational mind.

Penny’s eyes, glassy with shock and panic.

The piece of firewood in her hands, already in motion.

His arm raised to block the blow, but too late. Pain exploded in his head. Anderson dropped to the dirt. The last thing he saw was the dark blur of the wood, arcing toward him once again.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Zandra heard Anderson cry out. She careened through the cabin and dashed out onto the walkway. Ben had just emerged from the lodge carrying two mugs.

“Was that—” he began.

She pointed, sensing a burst of panicked energy. Anderson.

They found him on the ground between two unoccupied cabins. Blood welled from a gash on his forehead, the lump already swelling. He was out cold.

“It was Penny,” Zandra said. “Edmund’s got her. We were too late.”

Zandra had known that something wasn’t right in the bathroom. Penny’s aura had gone from subdued to unstable, like a sudden storm darkening the horizon. I shouldn’t have left her alone, Zandra thought. Not even in the bathroom. Not even for a second. She’d spotted two mangled sedative pills near the sink drain.

Ben turned back and forth, scanning the area. “I see a trail, but it’s not a clear line. It’s cutting in and out. Do you feel either one of them? Penny or Edmund?”

“No.” She spit the word out, disgusted with herself.

“I think Edmund took her into the woods.” Ben jogged into the trees.

Zandra knelt and placed her hand on Anderson’s cheek. “Come on, boss. Tell me what happened. Where did Penny go?”

The pain in his head assailed her. She pushed past it, searching for his last few memories. So long as she kept to the surface, she wouldn’t get pulled too deep into his unconscious mind.

He’d had a premonition that Penny was in trouble. Went outside. Zandra flinched as she saw Penny swing the chunk of wood.

He’d been thinking of his car.

Zandra checked Anderson’s pockets. His keys were gone.

Just then, an engine revved, and tires skidded through gravel on the other side of the cabins. She charged toward the parking lot. But Anderson’s car was already flying down the drive, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. Penny was at the wheel.

Ben ran out of the woods, skidding as he tried to stop. “Unbelievable! My car’s still in Crimson Falls—where Penny left it. Did Edmund plan all of this?”

“If he did, then he must know where he’s going.”

When Zandra confirmed Mike Lofton’s story, Edmund had lost any hope of Grant being arrested. They’d backed him into a corner—either accept that Grant didn’t do it, or reject their version of the truth.

Zandra knew which choice Edmund had made.

They ran back to Anderson. Ben confirmed his vitals; his pulse was steady, his breathing regular. But he was still out, which could be bad. “A head injury like this one can be unpredictable,” Ben said. “He needs to get to a hospital, just in case.”

She felt his worry—that Anderson might suffer brain damage. But there was no way to know yet.

Zandra dialed the number for the Sheriff’s Office and reported Anderson’s injuries. “We need an ambulance. How long will it take?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes,” the dispatcher told her. “You say your friend was attacked? Do you have a description of a suspect?”

Zandra hesitated. Did she really want Penny arrested? They had no idea what Edmund might do when confronted again—and unlike Anderson, the police would be armed.

We have to find Penny first, she decided. We’ll deal with this ourselves.

“No, I’m sorry, I misspoke. No suspect.”

“You’ll need to make a report if there was a crime.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Just send the ambulance, please.”

Zandra ended the call. “Twenty minutes till the paramedics get here. One of us has to go after Penny before anyone else is hurt.”

“I saw Vera’s car parked near her cottage.”

“Okay. See if Vera will let you borrow it. I’ll stay with Anderson.”

Ben nodded. “He’s going to be okay, Z. You know Anderson’s too stubborn to go out like this.”

“I know.”

But she wasn’t so sure of Penny.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ben rapped on the door to Vera’s cottage, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Come on,” he said aloud, “you have to be there.” He’d already checked the lodge. Her car was here. So Vera couldn’t have gone far.

Finally, the door opened. But it wasn’t Vera standing in the doorway.

“Oh,” Diane said. Her clothes were disheveled, her face flushed. “I remember you. One of those investigators. Can I help you?”

“Is Vera here?”

Diane glanced back into the small house. There was an unpleasant smell coming from inside, like the toilet had overflowed. “I’m sorry. Vera isn’t well. She’s got a bad case of food poisoning.”

Ben swallowed his curse. “I was hoping I could borrow Vera’s car. It’s an emergency.”

“What’s the emergency?”

This was awkward. But he didn’t have time to be cute about it. “Penny—you met her yesterday with me—she’s taken off, and we need to find her. She’s been possessed by a ghost.”

“You’re…serious?”

“Extremely. Could you ask Vera about the car? Every second counts. Penny’s in danger. Others might be as well.”

“We’ll take my car, then. It’s parked down the road. I’ll…just tell Vera I’m going.”

“Will she be okay if you leave her?”

“I think so. Vera’s not going anywhere. Hold on.”

She shut the door in Ben’s face. Less than two minutes later—Ben kept anxiously glancing at his watch—Diane emerged with a large purse and her coat.

Zandra texted, I hope you’re on the road. If you are, don’t reply.

Working on it, he wrote back.

They hurried the quarter mile to her car. Absently Ben wondered why she’d parked it so far, but that seemed unimportant right now. He scanned the road as Diane pulled away and headed toward town. Before, Ben had seen the ghost’s tracks appear when Edmund was actively controlling her. He’d followed the spirit trail in and out of the woods and to the parking lot, where it cut off. But now, Ben didn’t pick up anything.

Did it make a difference that Penny was traveling by car? In other circumstances, the idea might’ve been funny. Ben had never encountered a haunted vehicle. Though he’d ridden some late-night RTD lines in Denver that had that level of ambiance.

“Where are we headed, exactly?” Diane asked.

“Start on Main Street. We think she’s gone into town.”

“And you really think there’s a ghost possessing your friend?”

“We don’t think. We know. It’s the ghost of Edmund Demler.”

She swerved onto the wrong side of the road, just barely avoiding the ambulance whipping toward them. Its horn blared as it passed. Ben gripped the sides of his seat.

“It was supposed to be over,” Diane whispered. “This is madness.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“But what makes you think that Penny’s gone to Crimson Falls?”

Ben shifted uncomfortably on the upholstery. He didn’t have enough leg room, but also didn’t want to take his eyes off the street to hunt for the adjuster. “Edmund might’ve gone after Grant. Your brother.”

“Grant?”

That was Zandra’s theory, and it made sense. If only Ben could confirm they were headed in the right direction.

“Do you know where he might be?”

“At the bar, probably.”

She gunned the engine. The false facades of Main Street’s buildings appeared ahead.

Ben saw the flashing lights before they reached the bar. Penny’s already here, he thought. We’re too late.

Two sheriff’s vehicles had pulled up at the curb beneath the neon sign. Several people milled around on the sidewalk, more of a crowd than Ben had seen so far in Crimson Falls.

“Oh, no. What’s happened?” Diane parked in one of the diagonal spaces. She cut the engine and leaped out, shouting. “Grant!”

“I’m right here,” a man slurred. “Jeez, not so loud, Diane.”

Ben got out, both hoping and dreading to see Penny. But instead, a strange scene met his eyes. Grant Demler was being led out of the bar in handcuffs by a deputy. He had the confident bearing of a much younger man, chin held high despite his freshly split lip.

Mike Lofton—Trey’s father, who’d visited them at Shady Valley just a short while before—trailed along behind Grant. A deputy helped support him as he walked, and he had the beginnings of a black eye. His shirttails hung halfway out of his pants. A couple of buttons had gone missing.

He scanned up and down the street, but Ben saw no signs of Penny at all.

“What on earth happened?” Diane asked.

“That fool won’t mind his own business, that’s what happened,” Grant said, nodding his head at Mike. “Can’t shut his mouth and leave the past alone.”

“I was defending you, you idiotic drunk,” Mike replied.

Trey emerged next from the bar. “Dad, enough. That won’t help.”

“What a mess,” Diane murmured. “Trey, what is going on?”

They watched as the deputies piled the two older men into the waiting cars. Once they’d gone, the sheriff strode over. “Sorry you had to see that, Aunt Diane. Dad and Uncle Grant got into a tussle.”

“I thought they weren’t speaking,” Diane said. “What changed?”

The sheriff nodded hello to Ben. “I’m guessing it has to do with the stuff that Dad and I spoke to the Mercury Group about this afternoon. Some questions came up about the old investigation. My father must’ve gone straight to the bar after. Lord knows why he’d say anything to Grant about the case, but he did. And there’s no reasoning with Uncle Grant when he’s drunk. Sorry Aunt Diane, it’s true.”

“I know it. What questions about the investigation?”

The sheriff was looking at the bar, shaking his head. “Did you know my grandfather omitted evidence from the files back then? I sure hope you didn’t. But all this time, Dad knew. Doesn’t change the conclusions of the investigation, but it’s a stain on us all the same. Paints us as liars—as if we were little better than Edmund. That’s what they’re going to say, once the media finds out. And at some point they will.”

“Whatever Grant said, you know he doesn’t mean any of it.” Diane cast Ben an uneasy glance. “Trey, we’ll discuss this later. I don’t—”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. What’s done is done.” He took off his hat and squeezed the brim.

Diane’s expression could’ve been carved from stone. Ben wondered if she might mention Penny. Perhaps she was too worried about her own family to think of anything else at the moment—which Ben preferred.

“Ben,” Trey said, “I heard an ambulance got called to Shady Valley. Anderson was injured?”

Ben shuffled his feet, letting another officer go past. “Zandra’s with him. It’s a really long story. They’re figuring it out.”

“I’d have gone out there myself to check, but I got the call about the fight at the bar and, well, you can imagine.”

“No problem,” Ben said. “But I should really get going. Penny left my car here in town this afternoon—any chance you’ve seen it? Light blue Subaru Outback?”

“I’ve seen plenty of Subarus around,” Lofton said, “but I can’t say one was yours.”

Ben’s phone dinged. Zandra had just texted—the ambulance had arrived, and Anderson was on his way to the hospital. Ben wrote back that they hadn’t found Penny yet.

Are you with Vera? Zandra asked.

Diane. Vera is home sick.

Sheriff Lofton excused himself. “I really should get back to the office.”

“Trey, wait.” Diane pulled her nephew into a hug. Lofton’s mouth opened in surprise, but he quickly responded, patting Diane on the back.

“Take care of your Uncle Grant, all right?”

“Of course I will. You can come see him tonight. We’ll release him to you, if you’ll keep an eye on him. Should I expect you?”

Her arms tightened around him. “I don’t know if I’ll make it. But tell my brother not to worry, and that I love him. I’m going to sort this all out.”

The sheriff left. “You didn’t tell him about Penny,” Ben said, pocketing his phone.

“I hardly believe this ‘possession’ story myself. I thought it would be better to leave the authorities out of it.”

“That’s what Zandra and I figured, too.” Assuming they could find Penny before this got any worse. “I need to find my car, and I need to keep looking for her.” Ben still hoped that he’d spot a spirit trail that would lead him to her. “Would you mind driving me around a little more?”

Chapter Thirty-Four

An ambulance raced past Matthew’s truck, siren blaring. He didn’t know for sure what it meant. But that was his first real sign that something bad had gone down at Shady Valley.

Matthew tried calling Penny’s phone again, but he had no service. He still hadn’t spoken to her since she called earlier. Nor had she written back to any of his texts. On the drive, he’d kept telling himself she was fine. She’d probably be pissed when he showed up. But now, he longed to hear her yelling at him, telling him he shouldn’t have come. That ambulance had really done a number on his nerves.

He sped up, sending panicked glances at his GPS until he spotted the turn. The tires bumped up and down as he drove onto the gravel. He parked in front of a row of tiny log cabins. He stepped down from the cab of the truck and slammed the door shut.

“Hello? Anybody here? Penny?”

The cabins’ window boxes probably bloomed invitingly with flowers in the summer months, but right now the place seemed bleak and deserted. A few dead leaves drifted through the parking lot. Wind ruffled his hair.

Penny had said the whole Mercury team was staying at Shady Valley. Yet there were no cars, no signs of life. He didn’t know yet if that ambulance had come from here. But something was definitely off about this place.

He resisted the urge to start banging on doors and headed for the biggest log cabin instead, following a sign that read, Check-In. Inside, nobody waited behind the registration desk. “Hello?” He tried to remember the name of the woman he’d spoken to on the phone. “Vera?”

He pressed the bell. There was no response.

Matthew walked past the desk and into the large common area. There was a long, communal dining table and several couches arranged near a fireplace.

“Anybody here? Hello?”

Balling his fists, Matthew went back outside. He caught sight of the lake, and beyond it, a huge ruined building on a hill. That had to be Demler Mansion.

He thought of Bryce’s dream—Penny standing inside of a ruined house. Trapped. Scared.

He had to find her.

A dirt trail bordered the lake. Matthew started toward it. Then footsteps crunched in the gravel behind him. He whirled around. A dark-haired woman stood in front of him, hands outstretched like she meant to calm him.

“Finally,” he said. “I’ve been out here yelling, trying to find somebody. Where’s Penny?”

“Right now, I’m not sure. I’m Zandra. Are you Matthew? Penny’s Matthew?”

“How did you know?” He sounded out of breath. Zandra. He knew that name. Penny had mentioned her.

She didn’t answer his question. “Why are you here?”

“I’m trying to find Penny.” He was losing patience.

“We’ve already established that. But why are you here now, Matthew? Do you have information for me?”

He didn’t like the way she kept saying his name. Like he was the main reason for concern right now. And he had the disquieting feeling that she already knew why he was here, as if she could look straight into him.

“This might sound weird,” he began. But Zandra was one of the Mercury people. She’d have dealt with the supernatural before. “Someone close to Penny—very close, as in family—has these dreams. He dreamed that…”

Then he noticed—Zandra had smears of red on her shirt.

“Is that blood?” He thought of the ambulance again, heart surging upward and lodging in his throat. “What happened? Where is she?”

Zandra regarded him warily. “I will tell you all I can. But first, I need to know what you were going to say. A dream? Are you saying someone in Penny’s family is precognitive?”

“I don’t know what that means.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “But this person, his dreams show the future. He dreamed about Penny last night. She was hiding in a dark house, and a man was there with her. Edmund Demler. He was controlling her somehow.”

Zandra inhaled sharply. “A dark house?”

Matthew pointed at the house across the lake. “That’s it, isn’t it? Demler Mansion. The walls were black. Burned. And in the dream, Edmund Demler was with her.”

Zandra pressed her hands to her forehead, pacing back and forth. “That’s where she must’ve gone. No wonder we can’t find her.”

“You can’t find her? Penny is missing?”

“I thought for sure Demler wouldn’t go back there,” Zandra muttered. “He must want something at the house.”

Matthew couldn’t follow what she was saying. “So this is for real? Edmund Demler—the dead serial killer—has some hold over Penny?”

“Okay, wait. Tell me everything. Every detail of this dream. Leave nothing out.”

Matthew had Bryce’s description memorized. He recounted all that he could.

“There was a hole in the floor?” Zandra said. “And it was night? You’re sure?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Bryce had been clear about that.

“Then we need to go. It’s almost sundown.” She took out her phone and made a call.

“No, you need to tell me what the heck is going on. Now.”

She raised an eyebrow as her phone continued to ring. “I get that you’re freaked right now, Matthew, believe me. But you’ll just have to wait your turn for explanations. I have no idea what Demler is planning, or what he might do. We may not have much time.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Diane drove them slowly up and down the darkening streets. The sun had nearly set, and long shadows stretched across the pavement. Ben spotted two different blue Outbacks, but neither were his. Nor did he see any spirit trails that might lead to Penny.

The brakes squealed when a cat dashed into the headlights. They drove onward.

“What exactly were Grant and Mike fighting about, do you think?” Ben asked as they searched. “Trey mentioned the old investigation.”

Diane’s shoulders tensed, gaze fixed on the windshield. “Grant has struggled for a long time. None of us have really gotten over what happened with Edmund, but my brother drowned his sorrows at the bar. He gets upset whenever anyone talks about the murders. Mike should’ve known stirring up that history would lead to nothing good.”

Ben kept scanning the streets, half his mind on Penny and half contemplating the 1995 investigation. Today, Mike Lofton had confirmed Grant’s alibi for the night Tina Freeman and Edmund died. But that still left the murders of the first two girls, Rosalee and Nicki. But the method for the killings of both Nicki and Tina matched perfectly, aside from Tina being found in the shed rather than the lake. Ben couldn’t get his head around it.

But that aspect of the investigation could wait. He needed to focus. They were driving around and getting absolutely nowhere.

“All right,” Ben said. “I don’t think Penny came here.” He hadn’t seen his car, either, but they couldn’t waste any more time watching for it. “If Edmund didn’t send her after Grant, then where would he go?”

“Maybe Crimson Falls? The actual waterfall, I mean. Namesake of the town. It’s a few miles away. Edmund used to go there.”

“Worth a try.” Not like they had any other ideas at the moment.

Diane drove out of town. Now they were the only ones on the road. Ben was surprised at how calmly Diane had handled herself so far. Plenty of people would be hysterical after hearing the words “ghost” and “possession.” But she seemed like a woman who wasn’t easily unnerved. She had the lean, sinewy look that some older women got after years of hard labor and self-denial.

“It’s bizarre to imagine that Edmund is still around,” she said. “He’s really been at the house, all this time? You’re absolutely sure of that?”

“I sensed him myself. Penny and Zandra have seen him, spoken to him. I know it’s difficult to accept. But ghosts are around us more than you might realize.”

“Spoken to him? What has Edmund told them?”

“He claims that he’s innocent, and he never killed those girls.”

Diane’s fingers were white against the wheel. “Then who did?”

“He thought it was Grant, but Mike Lofton told us Grant’s alibi for the night Edmund died. It’s pretty watertight. So I don’t know.”

Diane turned onto a narrower road. Woods hemmed them in. The sky was still dark blue overhead, but the night had already fallen in the reaches of the forest. They arrived at a small clearing, and Diane turned off the engine. Ben opened the car door, listening. He heard water running.

“The Falls are that way.” Diane’s eyes were glassy as she pointed at the windshield. “Just a short hike. I’ll show you.” She pushed open her door and got out.

Ben’s phone rang. He held it to his ear.

“Hey Z, still no sign of Penny. We’re—”

“Ben, listen. I think I know where Penny’s gone. You need to get back here. Now.”

“We’re about…fifteen minutes away, I think.”

Diane bent over, looking into the car at him, her expression still oddly blank.

“Then you should meet us there,” Zandra said. “Demler Mansion. We need to get there before nightfall.”

He wondered who counted as “us,” since he’d thought Zandra was alone. Maybe Vera was back on her feet. “You’re sure that’s where Penny is?” Ben asked.

“Pretty sure. This is all we’ve got.”

Which was better than the nothing Ben had come up with. “I’ll be there.”

Diane slid back into the driver’s seat. “I heard what she said. They’ve gone to Demler Mansion?”

“Apparently. You mind driving me back out there? Preferably fast?”

“On one condition—you let me help. I want to talk to Edmund.”

“You?”

“Yes, me. I knew my nephew better than anyone else did. I raised him. He’ll listen to me.”

Ben still wasn’t convinced. “It could be dangerous. I can’t be responsible for—”

She twisted suddenly, reaching out to clutch his bicep. Ben was shocked by the strength of her grip. “I’d do anything for my family. Make any sacrifice. I’m going to see this through until the end.”

She threw the car into gear and drove, racing against the sun.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Penny limped out of the woods. Her socks were damp, torn by the forest floor. Edmund walked beside her. Demler Mansion stood before them, dark and silent.

“Why are we here?” Penny asked, her teeth chattering from the cold. She still had no control over the rest of her body, but Edmund was letting her speak aloud.

“To find out the truth.”

“How?”

He didn’t answer.

Edmund had made her park the SUV out of sight of the lake and the road. She didn’t have her phone, either—it was back at the cabin. But Zandra and Ben would find her eventually. They had to. She just wished she knew how long they’d take.

Edmund waded through knee-height dry grass, heading for the back door to the house. Penny’s feet carried her along after him, a puppet on strings. She’d been trying to stay calm so she wouldn’t rile him, but her own panic broke through.

“What do you want from me, Edmund?” she cried.

“Tell me who killed Tina. And who killed me.”

“But how can I do that? You’ve already seen Tina’s memories, haven’t you? You couldn’t see who killed her or Nicki.”

“But your power is stronger than mine ever was.”

So they were going to find the other ghosts—Tina and Nicki. Edmund wanted her to go inside their memories. But he couldn’t force her. He couldn’t control her mind, only her body.

That meant she still had leverage.

“I can find out what Tina remembers,” she said, “but first you have to let go of me. Get out of my head and go back to the house—the way you were before.”

“No deal. You’ll try to run.”

A new padlock secured the back entrance. Edmund made her find the key on Anderson's key ring and unlock it. She pushed open the door. Edmund walked past her, leading the way inside. The smells of mildew and damp wood filled her nostrils.

If I do what he says, she thought. It’ll buy me some time. When Zandra and Ben get here—

“Did you forget I can hear your thoughts? You can’t trick or distract me.” He spun to face her. “If you want an exchange, I’ll give you one. If you find out the truth before Zandra and Ben get here, then I won’t make you hurt them.”

“Will you let me go?”

“I’m not changing my offer.”

Edmund took her through a short series of corridors until they reached the kitchen. Penny felt a hum of ghost activity in the air. Goosebumps spread across her skin. But she couldn’t identify which ghosts were near.

“Is it Tina?” she asked. “Nicki?”

“No.” Edmund took her by the elbow, drawing her closer. “My mother,” he whispered. “Rachel.”

A ghostly young woman entered the room. She wore a nightgown and bent her arms protectively in front of her, as if she were carrying a child, though she was hardly out of childhood herself. Sorrow and regret emanated from her. She worried for her little boy. The ghost bounced up and down to calm her baby’s cries.

It was the same figure Penny had seen by the lake. Rachel crossed the kitchen and vanished through the door inside the pantry.

Penny hated Edmund for what he was doing to her, but her heart still ached as she imagined him as a little boy. He had truly lost everything and everyone who’d ever mattered to him.

Does that justify his actions? she asked herself. Kidnapping you?

Penny had let down her guard with Edmund before. As a result, Anderson was somewhere unconscious right now, bleeding. She still felt the weight of the firewood in her hands, heard the thud as it hit Anderson’s head, and acid rose in her throat.

Her anger was like armor. She needed to hold on to it to protect herself.

But then she thought of that little boy again, sitting with the ghost of his mother in the room beyond the pantry.

Edmund followed the ghost, pulling Penny along with him. “A few nights ago, you told Zandra that you’d woken up a ghost who wasn’t conscious.”

So he’d heard that. Of course—she and Zandra had that conversation after they’d visited Demler Mansion. Edmund had been with her, even then.

“I don’t think I can wake her,” she said immediately.

It was no simple matter, waking a ghost. Most of the time it was impossible, and it could be incredibly dangerous if the ghost was angry enough to cause damage—like a poltergeist.

Rachel’s ghost was so faint, she barely existed in the living world at all.

“You don’t get it. That isn’t what I want. I spent a lot of nights in that room, wishing my mother would speak to me, or look at me and realize that I was there. But I wouldn’t do that to her now. I don’t want her to know what I’ve done.”

Edmund stood in the open archway to the pantry, the darkness nearly swallowing him. Pools of shadow obscured his eyes.

“That’s my point, Penny. You think you understand what it’s like to be dead—to be me—but you don’t. So quit trying to figure me out. Just do what I ask.”

Edmund stalked out of the kitchen and down the hallway. At the grand staircase in the foyer, he pushed her ahead of him. The house groaned as Penny climbed the steps.

They reached the landing of the second floor. She told her hands to grab hold of the banister, but her muscles still wouldn’t obey.

The electric hum increased, ringing in her ears. Two new presences, separate from one another yet intertwined by their fury and fear.

“You feel them, too,” he said. “They like this floor the most. But wherever I go in the house, they’ll eventually come to me. Not on purpose, I don’t think. It’s more like instinct. Is it because I’m a medium? They know, somehow?”

Whispers came from farther down the hallway, where the long-ago fire had blackened the walls. Edmund tilted his chin upwards, closing his eyes. Listening.

“They’re close,” he murmured.

A frigid gust of wind moved through the hall. Dust rose in clouds. A door flew back, its hinges shrieking.

“That’s where they are,” he said. “My bedroom.”

“And you promise you won’t hurt Zandra or Ben?”

“I promise.”

“What about me? Will you swear to let me go after you know the truth?”

A pause. “Yes.”

She didn’t believe him. But what else could she do right now but comply?

“I’ll go. Let me walk there myself.”

Edmund nodded, stepping back from her.

She walked down the hall. The temperature had lowered by at least ten degrees. It was even colder here than it had been in the forest. Penny’s nose and fingers went numb. Her ragged socks caught against the floorboards.

She looked into the open doorway. The room was blackened on the inside. In its center, the charred floorboards gave way into a broken, splintered hole—where Hannah Eckert had fallen.

Edmund stood at Penny’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean for her to get hurt. She followed Nicki and Tina here.”

“You told me that you didn’t remember anything about Hannah.”

“But I didn’t tell you the truth about everything, did I?”

She heard a whimper. Someone else was here, in the burned-out bedroom.

Penny walked through the doorway, keeping to one side. Her back slid along the wall, her feet crossing one over the other to stay as far as possible from the hole in the floor. The boards creaked and snapped. But they held. For now.

Edmund, wait, someone whispered. Please.

Outside, the sky was painted with orange and gray. The sun had nearly set. Almost no light made it past the windows into the room.

“Tina?” Penny whispered. “Nicki? Are you here?”

She took another step, and the two girls appeared. They’d huddled together in the opposite corner of the room. Penny remembered their photos from the police file—Nicki was on the right, still strikingly beautiful though the color had drained from her hair and skin. Tina sat on the left, smaller and doll-like, with her vivid strawberry-blonde locks falling into her face.

Both spoke quietly, their mouths moving. Yet neither girl reacted to the other. They didn’t sense each other at all. They were together, yet alone.

Carefully, Penny walked toward them. The floor buckled, and she leaped back for the safety of the wall.

Tina whimpered. A tear fell onto her cheek. Don’t leave without me.

Images appeared in Penny’s mind—light reflecting on water, hands pushing against her head. The sharp prick of a needle. She touched the back of her neck, feeling the sensation like it had just happened to her.

Edmund, wait for me.

Penny glanced back to the doorway. Edmund was gone. He would be close, she assumed. But maybe this was too much for him—seeing the girls, hearing their pleas. Especially Tina’s. Hers were so much clearer.

Penny lowered herself to the floor. She relaxed against the wall and imagined her mind opening.

“Tina, tell me what happened.”

The ghost’s memories spun through her mind. The water, the hands, the disbelief. Again and again. Both Tina and Nicki were stuck in those same moments, unable to remember anything else. The images and sensations were muddy, strangely blurred, as if they were dreaming.

“It’s all right,” Penny murmured. “No one can hurt you anymore. You can show me the rest.”

She held out her hand, opening up her mind just a bit more.

Nicki responded first; the endless loop of her memories slowed. Then began to reverse. Tina was next—still unaware of Penny on any conscious level, yet answering in sympathy to Penny’s influence. Tina’s memories moved backward—before the fear. Before the water.

All at once, the rest of the scene poured into Penny’s mind.

Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

Tina opened the door and looked into her cabin. The light from outside was just enough to see by. Jasmine snored in her bunk. Laurie’s form lay motionless beneath her blankets.

Tina snuck inside and closed the door almost all the way. She had to hurry. Edmund was waiting.

Her pack was under her bed where she’d left it. She dumped out the contents of her purse onto the floor. Nicki’s notebook went deep inside the pack, tucked into a cut in the lining. Her wallet went in there too. After her money had been stolen on the way out of Denver, at the very beginning of the summer, she didn’t want to take any chances with her valuables.

Next she gathered up her few keepsakes. Her clothes rolled up small, and her extra pair of shoes filled out the top.

She slung the backpack over her shoulders and pushed open the door.

Diane stood just outside, waiting for her. Tina cursed. She was so busted.

“Shut the door?” Diane asked. “I’m guessing you don’t want to wake your roommates.”

Tina did as Diane asked.

“You were with Edmund tonight. In his room. Weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, unable to meet Diane’s gaze. Even now, when she was about to leave Crimson Falls forever, she felt nauseous at getting caught breaking the rules. Diane was just so perfect. So righteous, with her little sayings about Do your personal best and Think of others first. Diane cared about Edmund, too. So a little part of Tina’s heart broke that Diane would be disappointed in her.

Tina was trying to get justice for Nicki, which Diane would surely respect. But spending the night with Edmund had nothing to do with Nicki.

“I’m sorry I broke the rules. But Edmund and I love each other. We want to be together.”

Diane sighed like Tina’s declaration exhausted her. “I heard about what happened earlier. You went to the sheriff? You called Grant a murderer?” She hissed the word.

“I can explain.”

“I sure hope so. Because I can’t understand why you’d be doing these things to my family.”

“It all started when I found Nicki’s notebook.”

Tina went through all the evidence that they had. The decoded diary entries, Nicki’s boyfriend. She even mentioned Nicki’s ghost, which elicited a skeptical look.

“I know it’s really hard to believe,” Tina said. “But just ask Edmund and he’ll say it’s true.”

“Edmund isn’t always so great with the truth. He’s lied to me plenty of times. Taken my car keys, taken money. And that ghost nonsense. I hate to say that about my nephew, because I love him, but—”

“We have proof. At least, proof of part of the story.” She told Diane about the plastic baggie under the seat of Grant’s car. Edmund had been right not to trust Sheriff Lofton with all of it, but Diane needed to know. She’d want to protect any more girls from getting hurt. “I know that doesn’t prove that Nicki was murdered, but Rosalee was dating Grant too. And she drowned, like Nicki. It can’t be a coincidence.”

Diane looked stricken. But she wasn’t skeptical anymore. “All right. Let’s go to Grant’s car. I want to see this supposed evidence.”

They walked along the trail by the lake. The sky was clear tonight. The water’s surface shimmered with starlight.

“I’ve always tried to do what’s best for my family,” Diane said. “And for you girls.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you have to break my rules, Tina? They’re meant to protect you. Keep you safe. You, Nicki, Rosalee. Why did you all insist on doing what you shouldn’t?”

I don’t need protection from Edmund, she wanted to say. But Diane was making a bigger point than that, and Tina didn’t like the implication. “What about the guys? They’re responsible, too.”

The trail curved. They were near the shed. Tina couldn’t see the small building itself, just the shadow it made against the trees.

“Grant’s a fool,” Diane said. “Doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.”

“So you’re blaming Nicki and Rosalee? Me?”

Diane stopped walking. “All you had to do was be good. That’s what I wanted for you girls. So you’d have a simple, happy life. Instead, you insist on getting your claws into boys like Grant and Edmund, dragging them down.”

Tears welled in Tina’s eyes. “Then you know what? Screw you. I don’t need your help. Edmund and I will tell the police ourselves. We’re going to be together, and you can’t stop us.”

“My older sister was just the same. Rachel got a second chance when she came home pregnant. And you know what she did with it? She refused to follow our mother’s rules. Screamed and yelled at us, like Mom and I were the problem. When all we wanted was to help her be good. You’re just like her. All of you are so damned selfish.”

Throughout her tirade, Diane kept advancing on Tina. Hatred shone in her eyes. Had Diane felt this way all along? Pretending to care for the camp girls when secretly she judged them?

And why was Diane saying all this about Edmund’s mother? She’d died when he was a baby. Why would Diane still bear her such resentment?

But then a creeping realization settled over Tina’s mind.

Rachel had drowned in the lake. Like Rosalee. Like Nicki.

Diane lunged. Tina tried to cry out, but Diane covered her mouth. Tina felt a sharp stab of pain in her neck.

Diane pushed Tina off the trail and between the trees. Darkness enveloped them. The scent of wood and damp hit Tina’s nose, along with Diane’s raspberry and vanilla lotion.

They were inside the shed.

Tina struggled to get away. But already her limbs felt heavy. They wouldn’t listen. What had Diane injected her with? Some kind of poison? Her head felt strange, the world growing ever more distant.

It was dark inside the shed, but starlight shone through the door. Shapes emerged—shelves and tools and planks of wood.

A bucket sat on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Tina asked. The words blurred and echoed. Her body was still in the shed, yet her mind was drifting. Like she hadn’t quite fallen asleep but had already started to dream.

“I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. But I do what I have to.”

Diane forced Tina to her knees. She grabbed Tina by the hair. Pushed her face down. Cold water shocked her. Tina tried to stand up and get away, but her muscles didn’t respond. Diane pinned Tina in place with her legs, using her hands to force Tina’s head into the water.

This was too surreal. Diane wouldn’t be doing this. It couldn’t be happening.

Edmund, I’ll be there soon, she thought. We’ll leave in the morning. Just wait for me.

Her lungs spasmed, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. She’d wake up soon. It was only a dream.

Edmund, please. Just wait for me.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Penny sat up in the dark, gasping for air. The water was gone. She ran her fingers over her face, her throat.

It was a dream, she thought. I’m alive. She was back in Edmund’s bedroom.

“Edmund?” she choked out. “Where are you? The bus will leave soon.”

There was no answer. The room was freezing, the floors warped and splintered.

Reality started coming back to her. I’m Penny Wright, she thought. Not Tina Freeman.

Poor Tina was dead. Drowned. Murdered. The horror of those moments stole Penny’s breath. Her nose burned as tears flooded her eyes.

Penny had shared each of the girls’ last moments, relived their prayers and their suffering. For years, the ghosts had replayed those terrible minutes over and over again, endlessly. Every time, they begged. But no escape came, no hero arrived to save them. No mercy.

Diane had done it. Diane. Who’d claimed to love the girls in her charge. It was monstrous. Diane must’ve hidden so much hatred inside of her. And she’d blamed her nephew, told shameless lies about him year after year.

“Why?” Penny murmured. She’d heard Diane’s excuses, just as Tina did, yet she couldn’t understand it.

Wait for me, Edmund, Tina whispered, I’ll be there soon.

Penny felt Tina’s presence in the corner. The ghost sat with her arms wrapped around her knees. Poor Tina was still here, trapped once again in confusion and denial.

But where had Nicki gone? Penny closed her eyes, concentrating, but she couldn’t sense Nicki anywhere. Nicki’s ghost wasn’t in the house at all.

She had finally broken free of her prison. That fact gave Penny a small measure of relief.

Then the awful knowledge nearly swept her under once again: Diane had killed them. And she’d admitted to killing Rachel, too. Edmund’s mother.

A piercing scream cut through the quiet. Penny clamped her hands over her ears, but Edmund’s cries came from inside her head.

She got onto her hands and knees and backed out of the room. In the hallway, she found Edmund standing in front of her. His face contorted with pain.

“It wasn’t Diane. Please. It can’t be true. She loved my mom. She loved me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Edmund bent over at the waist, clutching his stomach. He fell back against the far wall and crumbled to a ball on the floor. “Please say it isn’t true, Penny,” he whispered. “Please. I can’t stand it.”

Penny went over to him. She put her arms around his trembling form—smaller than he’d seemed a moment ago, icy cold. She wished she could take it back. Let him continue existing in ignorance, blaming Grant. But hadn’t some part of him suspected, even before? Couldn’t he have broken through the loop of the girls’ memories himself, yet feared to know the entire truth?

“I didn’t know.” His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “I couldn’t know. It’s not—I can’t—”

“I realize that it seems impossible right now,” Penny said. “But you can accept what’s happened. Nicki did. She was ready to let go.”

“What about Tina?” Edmund asked, shaking with dread. “Did she leave, too?”

“She still doesn’t understand her death. She won’t go without you.”

He cried out again, raking his fingernails against his own skin. His body blurred and fractured in her vision.

“I can’t take this,” he moaned.

She felt his agony. Hot tears streamed down Penny’s face. “I’ll help you and Tina break free of this pain. Both of you, together. If you’ll let me.”

“No. No.” Edmund thrust her away. “This is a trick, isn’t it? You just want to get free yourself. You want to abandon me.”

“That isn’t true, and you know it.”

He roared at her, his eyes glowing red, his teeth sharpening into demonic points. “There’s no peace until Diane suffers for what she’s done.”

There was a noise downstairs. Penny went still, listening.

A streak of silver flew out of the doorway over Penny’s head. It moved slowly at first, then darted down the hallway, leaving an afterimage in her vision.

It had been Tina. She was frightened, reacting instinctually to some new presence.

“Something’s happening,” Edmund said.

A crash reverberated downstairs.

Edmund forced Penny to stand. She tried to speak, but he clamped her jaws shut, reasserting full control.

“I think your friends are here,” he said.

You promised not to hurt them, she said in her thoughts. I did what you asked.

“They don’t matter. Nothing matters. Nothing but her.”

Penny couldn’t tell if he meant Tina, or Diane.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Zandra aimed her flashlight ahead at the trail. The sun was nearly gone. The hike toward Demler Mansion was eerily quiet. Little sound came from the woods—no owls hooting or insects humming. But Matthew’s emotions crashed into her, his aura furious and chaotic. He battled with every step to remain calm.

“When we find her, how do we get the ghost out of her?” He pulled at the straps of Anderson’s tech vest, which he wore over his coat.

“I’m hoping that we can use your connection with Penny to help her break free of Edmund’s control.” Her bag pulled against her shoulder, heavy with gear. The trail sloped upward. Her legs burned as they sped toward the house.

“But once he leaves Penny,” Matthew said, “what’s to stop Demler from possessing one of us instead?”

“He can’t—absent a voluntary host, anyway, which he’s not going to get. Penny is unusual. I’ve only met one, maybe two mediums as powerful as her. From the moment I met her, she keeps surprising me.”

“Yeah,” Matthew murmured, “she does that to me, too.”

They rounded the curve in the trail, and Demler Mansion came back into view. Matthew started to run, but Zandra barred her arm across the path.

“Hold on.” She studied the facade—the steep stairs and pillars leading to its door; the dozen blank windows. No light shone from inside.

She hadn’t expected that Edmund would take Penny there. Yet it made a sort of sense. If he’d accepted that Grant wasn’t to blame, then this might be the only place that Edmund could find out who’d killed him. He hadn’t managed that in twenty-five years, but he had Penny now.

“What are we waiting for?” Matthew asked, still glaring at the house. “Penny’s at the mercy of a serial killer in there.”

“I told you—he says he’s innocent. I get that it’s hard to believe, but Edmund was telling the truth. I have a knack for spotting lies.”

“How? You read minds?” He turned back to face her, and his skepticism vanished at her expression. “Holy—you read minds?”

Zandra lowered the flashlight to her side. “I don’t exactly read minds—not without physical contact. I feel auras and emotions.”

He took a step back. “Okay. What’s my aura saying?”

“That you love Penny. You’d do anything to help her.”

“I would,” he said emphatically. No doubts, no hesitation. Anything.

“And that’s the reason I allowed you to come with me.”

Matthew wanted to scream that Penny was in this situation. His aura demanded someone to blame, and he kept coming back to himself for not getting here sooner.

But his love for Penny could make him reckless. He might take unnecessary risks.

“When we go inside that house,” Zandra said, “we’re going to be dealing with forces you can’t even sense, much less fight against.”

“I realize that.” His powerlessness infuriated him.

“Promise me that you’ll do as I say. No matter what happens in there.”

His jaw worked as he glanced again at the house. Zandra felt his anger and knew what he’d say before he opened his mouth. “Why should I listen to you, when you couldn’t stop Edmund Demler before? He took Penny on your watch.”

Zandra crossed her arms, returning his steely gaze. He was pissed, alright. But she couldn’t tell if he’d defy her. He seemed undecided.

Headlights swung toward them.

“Finally.” Matthew put a hand at the level of his eyes. “That your friend?”

They ran the last few yards to the end of the trail, then waded through the knee-height grass. The car stopped short of them. Ben and Diane jumped out. Their chaotic emotions bled into the air, adding to Matthew’s. It was too much to take in at once. Zandra pulled her mind back from them, centering her concentration on the task at hand.

“This is Matthew Larsen,” Zandra explained. “Penny’s boyfriend.” Matthew nodded at them with a solemn expression. “He’s the reason we figured out where Penny’s gone.”

“But how?” Ben asked.

“It’s a long—”

“Story,” Ben finished. “Yeah, those are going around lately.” He offered his hand to Matthew. “We’re already way beyond normal protocols. So, welcome to the team, I guess.”

Zandra set down her bag and dug into it. She handed Ben his vest and gave another to Diane.

“What’s this for?” Diane asked, eying her vest skeptically.

“It’s got our communications network built in. Plus, it’ll monitor your vitals and report any anomalies to the rest of the team.” She checked Diane’s read-out. “This could be dangerous.”

“I know, Ben already told me. But Edmund’s my family. My responsibility.”

Diane’s aura shifted with conflicting energy—she was terrified, almost to the point of despair. She’d made a difficult decision, and now only remained unsure of her resolve to see it through. Zandra couldn’t pull more detail than that, which bothered her.

What exactly had Diane decided to do?

She finished adjusting the woman’s vest. “Ben, I need to talk to you.”

They walked several yards away, until they’d reached the mouth of the woods. Both Matthew and Diane watched them, questions roiling across their auras.

“Did Diane mention anything important?” she asked. “Anything I should know?”

“I don’t think so. She just wants to help. Why?”

Zandra glanced back. “A feeling. I can’t put it into words. I’m not sure about Matthew, either. He’s freaked out. Unpredictable.”

“Z,” Ben murmured, “maybe you and I should go in ourselves.”

Think, she told herself. They had few options. And even less time in which to decide.

Under normal circumstances, Zandra would never bring two untrained non-sensitives into such a volatile situation.

But. But.

Anderson would tell her to trust her instincts.

“We might only get one chance,” Zandra said. “Since the minute we got to Crimson Falls, we’ve underestimated Edmund and Penny both. My gut says that we can’t do this alone, even if it’s risky.”

Ben shrugged. “Then we’ll go with your gut.”

She stopped him as he started to turn away. “When we got assigned to this case together, you didn’t want this partnership at all. And you definitely didn’t want me in charge.”

“But I was wrong. I’ve got your back, okay? As I’m sure you already know.”

She smiled half-heartedly. “But I wanted to hear you say it.”

He took her hand, lowering his voice. “Z, I can’t read you, but I can guess how you’re feeling. You’re going to get us through this.”

His confidence flowed into her where they touched. He’d meant every word. “Thank you.”

The four of them gathered at the back entrance to the house. Ben held a flashlight up, illuminating Zandra as she spoke.

“Somewhere inside this building,” she said, “Edmund is holding Penny hostage. We don’t know exactly what he wants. And we don’t know how far he’ll go to get it. All of us are in danger—Penny most of all. We’ll have to negotiate.”

She dug into the bag of equipment at her feet and produced several zip-ties.

“If that fails,” Zandra continued, “we ambush and restrain her. Edmund can control her, but he can’t give her superhuman strength. Once we’ve got her hands and feet secure, she’ll no longer be a threat. Then we’ll get her to Denver as fast as we can to consult with parapsychologists on the possession.”

“Couldn’t Edmund force her heart to stop beating?” Matthew asked, barely tamping down his panic. “Or keep her from breathing?”

“I don’t think he’d do that. But let’s avoid finding out. We’re going to try diplomacy first.”

“Edmund isn’t the only ghost in that house, though,” Ben said. “There’s at least one potential poltergeist that we’ll have to contend with. Not to mention an unstable building that already almost killed someone last month. The minute we go inside Demler Mansion, Zandra’s in charge.” He looked to Diane and Matthew. “Are you two good with that? If not, you’ll stay behind.”

Indecision still swirled around both of the newcomers. But they nodded.

They hadn’t spoken aloud, yet she hardly noticed that fact. She was too focused on the house. Distracted by thoughts of Edmund and Penny.

She wouldn’t realize her mistake until later.

Zandra slung her pack over her shoulders. Ben activated his electromagnetic detector.

“Let’s go. We’ll approach from the back. I’m hoping Edmund won’t see us coming.” She walked toward the house. The others followed.

When they reached the shadows near the back door, Ben said, “I’ve got a trail here. Fresh. Very strong. She’s definitely inside.” A warning alarm beeped from the EM detector. “Much stronger activity than the last time we were here, Z. This is off the charts.”

Flares of anxiety came from both Diane and Matthew. A vein at Zandra’s temple began to pound. Too many auras, too much energy to decipher all at once.

Zandra let Ben go ahead. He pushed open the back door, shining the flashlight into the corridor.

A cold wind blew into their faces, forcing them back. Ben lowered his shoulders and charged ahead. The rest of them followed. They made it into the kitchen, and Zandra felt a new presence surge into the room—the ghost of a young woman, both furious and terrified.

A kitchen window exploded, showering them with glass.

“Poltergeist,” Ben shouted. “Take cover!”

He grabbed onto Zandra’s and Diane’s vests and pulled them into an alcove. Zandra brushed glass from her hair and shoulders.

“That polt’s got trails all over the place,” Ben said. “It’s pissed off, and it’s not going to let us through.”

Zandra tightened the straps on her vest. “Are there more?”

“I see Edmund’s trail, leading deeper into the house. He’s definitely not bothering to hide this time. A couple other trails that are weak. But just the one polt.”

Matthew pressed his back against the wall, peering back out. A piece of glass had sliced across his cheek, leaving a line of red. “Let me go around to the front door instead. Please. Maybe it won’t follow me.”

“All right,” Zandra said. Edmund surely already knew they were here. That meant they had to get to Penny as soon as possible. “We’ll split up—Matthew and I will head around front, and Ben and Diane, you try to get around the polt from this side. Matthew, go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

Matthew ran toward the exit. Another window burst in the kitchen.

Zandra locked eyes with Ben. He nodded. “We’ll find Penny if you don’t,” he said.

She jumped up to follow after Matthew.

She’d almost reached the back door when the aura of the room changed. There was a sudden explosion of violent energy, but it hadn’t come from the polt. Zandra skidded to a stop. Spun around.

Ben still faced Zandra, watching her go. But Diane stood behind him, holding a syringe in her hand.

“Look out!” Zandra dashed back toward him.

Diane’s arm came down. The needle jabbed into Ben’s neck.

Zandra tackled Diane to the ground. The woman struggled beneath her, nearly bucking her off. She was strong.

“I need help!” Zandra cried.

With a roar, Ben grabbed Diane’s arms and pinned them. Then he pulled the dangling syringe from his skin. “What the heck is this?”

The woman wouldn’t answer. She arched her back and kicked her legs. They rolled her onto her stomach. Zandra wrenched Diane’s arms behind her back, digging into her pack for the restraints to bind the woman’s hands and feet. The radio crackled, Matthew’s voice coming through in fits and starts, but Zandra couldn’t answer.

“There’s still liquid in the syringe,” Ben said, “Looks like she didn’t inject the whole thing. But Z, I’m getting weak. Another few minutes—I don’t know—”

“I’ll find out what she injected you with.” And why on earth she’d done it. Zandra pressed her hand to Diane’s cheek and forced her way into the woman’s memory.

But Diane wasn’t thinking of the syringe.

Instead, Zandra saw flames.

Demler Mansion - 1995

Diane walked across the foyer of the big house. Every step was an effort, bringing her closer to carrying out the hardest decision of her life. She didn’t want to do this. But Edmund had left her no choice.

Her fingers trailed across the backs of furniture, picture frames, the delicate wall sconces. The house still held so many beautiful things, even though Diane had started selling the art and antiques one by one to keep the bills paid. Since their mother had died and Sylas, the eldest, had joined the military, Diane was the only one around to make the hard decisions.

Diane mounted the steps, counting them as she went. This might be the last time she’d ever climb this staircase.

Sacrifices. She’d made so many sacrifices. And still, it hadn’t been enough.

She fingered the syringe in her pocket, along with the glass vial.

A single choice, a single mistake, a single lie—it could multiply again and again until it overwhelmed everything good.

Everything Diane had done in her life, she did for others. She’d truly wanted to help the girls at Shady Valley. It was supposed to be a refuge, a place for second chances. Diane welcomed girls from Crimson Falls, too, when they needed a room for a night, no questions asked.

That was how Rosalee came to them.

She was a local girl, whom Diane had known for years. Rosalee befriended several of the girls at the camp. But instead of setting a good example, Rosalee was an instigator. Late night parties, boys.

Diane had no idea that Rosalee was running around with Grant until she caught them skinny-dipping in the lake. Stupid, foolish Grant, who’d never managed to grow up.

The night she found them skinny-dipping, Diane was furious. She sent Rosalee home and forbade Grant from messing around with any of the girls at the camp.

But the two defied her and went back to the lake. Rosalee was found the next morning—head bashed, floating in the water.

Diane demanded to know where Grant had been. He fell apart immediately. Told his older sister everything. He’d been trying to do what Diane asked—end his relationship with Rosalee. But Rosalee got hysterical. She slipped and fell. He said it had been an accident. Diane prayed that her brother was telling the truth.

But if he wasn’t…Could she truly judge him, after what she herself had done almost twenty years before?

Was it our father’s money? Diane wondered. Was that where it all went wrong for us?

Diane reached the second-floor landing. The hallways in either direction were nearly pitch dark. But light shone beneath the door of a single bedroom.

Edmund’s.

Acid rose into her throat. Her fist rubbed the tears away from her eyes.

Over a century ago, her father’s family had built their fortune on misery. So she’d tried to right some of those wrongs, spending the money to help others. The Shady Valley Camp for Girls was Diane’s penance for ending Rachel’s life.

She had never wanted to hurt her sister. But what else would’ve stopped Rachel’s path of destruction? She’d given birth to Edmund, that sweet, innocent baby boy, and yet Rachel was still being selfish. As if she hadn’t been the one to behave so recklessly, running away and getting pregnant by a man who didn’t even love her. Maybe their mother had been a touch too strict. But Mother had accepted Rachel back, when others wouldn’t. Diane had only been fourteen, yet she had stayed right by Rachel’s side throughout the birth. And still, all day Rachel spewed resentment and anger over the supposed “unfairness” of her life.

Rachel had admitted to drinking and smoking weed during her pregnancy. She threatened to run away again and take Edmund with her. A tiny, defenseless baby. What kind of life would he have had? Rachel was sixteen, no education, no money. She wasn’t fit to be a mother.

So Diane did the only thing that she could—she’d followed Rachel down to the lake one morning and did what needed to be done. All to save Edmund.

Rachel had been tiny, but she’d fought. Diane had almost lost her nerve. Her arms had shook as she held her sister under the water. But then, just as Diane’s muscles gave out, Rachel stopped struggling and sank under the surface of the lake.

Maybe it had been a mistake, doing something so final instead of giving Rachel yet another chance. But Diane had done the best she could at the time. She’d seen how her younger brother Grant was already turning out wild. She’d wanted better for her little nephew.

Oh, Edmund, she thought. Why did you have to go to Sheriff Lofton instead of talking to me?

Diane walked slowly toward his door, gripping the syringe in her pocket.

She’d thought that her family put Rosalee’s unfortunate death behind them. And then, Nicki Ember arrived, more striking and confident than a teenage girl had any right to be. Diane was more careful, keeping an eye on the goings-on at Shady Valley, making sure that Grant and his friends stayed away. But it still hadn’t been enough. Nicki was as rebellious and ungrateful as Rachel had ever been. Grant couldn’t resist the temptation.

Diane insisted that her brother break up with the girl. She reminded her brother of his terrible mistake with Rosalee. Grant promised to do better.

But somehow, Nicki figured out Grant’s connection to Rosalee. There’d been a few rumors about Grant dating Rosalee before—Vera, for one, knew. But Grant let too many details slip, and Nicki guessed at his involvement in the other girl’s death. Nicki had demanded money.

He threatened her. Started to panic. This time, Diane couldn’t wait for Grant to do something stupid.

Family had to come first. Sacrifices had to be made. She decided to take care of the problem herself.

Diane sometimes volunteered at the local veterinary clinic. That was where she’d gotten the ketamine. People said kids took the drug at parties. It seemed like the perfect solution. Diane hadn’t wanted Nicki to suffer, and the police would assume that Nicki took the drug herself.

The water took care of the rest.

But a single lie had a way of taking hold, spreading like a cancer. Nicki left a notebook for Tina to find. And Tina told Edmund.

Edmund went to Sheriff Lofton.

And now, the sheriff was asking questions about Rosalee. About Nicki. He’d called Diane earlier. He didn’t want to believe Grant could be involved in anything nefarious, of course, but he still had to investigate. Rumors would follow.

Diane cared for all of the camp girls, but she’d especially liked Tina. Why couldn’t Tina have just followed the rules? Just been good? Tina had turned out like Nicki and Rosalee—selfish. If she’d just stayed away from Edmund, if she’d come to Diane to talk about Nicki’s notebook, then none of this would be happening.

Or maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe the lies would’ve multiplied anyway. It didn’t matter anymore—Sheriff Lofton needed someone to blame.

Edmund had betrayed his own family. As difficult as Grant had been, he at least acted like he cared. Grant was the Demler who everyone admired, everyone loved, while Edmund…he never came all the way out of the shadows. Why did he have to be so difficult, so strange? Edmund had betrayed them.

So Diane didn’t have any choices left, really. She had to stop the cancer from spreading before it consumed them all.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Outside Edmund’s door, she knelt and looked through the keyhole. A duffle lay open on the floor, half-filled with clothes. Edmund appeared, bending to tuck a pair of shoes inside. His lips curved in a slight smile. He’d so rarely smiled, even as a child when Diane used to hold him.

Watching him, her frustration grew. Diane had done so much for him. But Edmund had insisted on isolating himself, making up ridiculous stories. Spending hours in that pantry room downstairs, even though she told him that was a morbid waste of time.

The glass vial glinted as she re-filled the syringe. Her gloved hands muffled any sounds.

It has to be this way, she told herself, steeling her resolve. Even if I’m to blame for some of this mess, Edmund has forced my hand.

Diane pressed herself against the wall. Eventually, his footsteps drew near. The door opened. He stepped out, turning toward the back staircase like she’d known he would. Because Edmund had always preferred the shadows. The needle bit into his neck from behind. His throat made a strangled cry, and his bag thudded against the carpet. Diane pushed him back into his room. Edmund sprawled onto the floor, already getting up again.

She grabbed the crystal doorknob and slammed the door shut.

He shouted, “Grant, you’re going to pay for this!” The knob shook as he tried to turn it. Diane’s fingers cramped, but she held on with all her strength.

But soon, Edmund backed away from the door. “What was that stuff?” he slurred. “Grant, what did you do?”

Diane knelt again to look through the keyhole. Edmund sat on the floor, slumped against his bed. His mouth hung slack.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Edmund murmured. “Don’t hurt Tina. Please don’t hurt Tina.” He slid to one side, his cheek landing on the carpet. His lips kept moving, barely audible. “Please, not her. Please.”

Then Diane’s vision blurred. She couldn’t see him anymore for the tears.

Get up, she screamed at herself. Finish it.

She sleepwalked through the rest of the task—finding the lighter fluid among Grant’s camping supplies, dousing the curtains in several of the rooms nearest Edmund’s. Striking the match. This would be easier than watching him drown—easier for them both, because Edmund wouldn’t know she’d done it. And this house, the last of the ill-gotten Demler fortune, would finally be gone.

Water cleansed and purified. But so did fire.

As the flames began to spread, she quickly checked on him one last time. Edmund lay on the floor, chest moving steadily, his eyes open but his gaze far away. Some people said ketamine made you dissociate, like your spirit had separated from your body. They used it on the animals at the vet clinic to help ease their passing. Edmund wouldn’t feel any pain.

The door opened on silent hinges. Her feet padded on the rug. She pressed his hand around the glass medicine vial and syringe for the fingerprints, then left the evidence in a drawer. Edmund didn’t move, didn’t even shift his gaze.

The smoke in the air was getting thick. Diane coughed, holding her sleeve against her mouth. The very last thing she did was stroke his cheek, like she had when he was little. Back when she still believed she had saved him.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Matthew ran through the dark around the side of the house. The dry grass crunched beneath his boots.

The ground sloped downward slightly as he neared the front of the building. If he kept going, he’d reach the lake. Instead he turned and jogged up the cascade of stone steps that led to the massive home’s front door.

Then he realized that Zandra wasn’t with him. He spared a quick glance back, wondering what might’ve happened to delay her. He found the button on his vest that she’d said would activate the radio.

“Zandra?” he asked. “Ben?” There was no answer but static.

But he wasn’t going to wait around. He had to find Penny.

Adrenaline pulsed through him as he tugged the handle on the front door. The hinges creaked. He stepped onto the bare marble floor of the foyer.

The air was ice-cold. He moved his flashlight over the space, his exhales condensing like smoke. Drifts of leaves and dirt had gathered on the floor, and spots of mildew stained the walls.

“Penny?” His voice echoed against the soaring ceiling. “Are you here?”

There was a creak above him. He moved the flashlight to the staircase.

Penny stood on the second-floor, perched at the top stair. She held her body stiffly, her arms flat against her sides.

“Penn!”

“Matthew?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

He started up the stairs, moving slowly. He didn’t want to startle her—or Demler. Where is he? Matthew wondered. “I already know what’s been happening. I can explain how later. Is he here with you?”

“You have to go. Please, Matthew,” she begged. “Just—” Her lips clamped shut.

He took another step. “I don’t really get how this works, but I’d like to talk to Demler. Can he hear me?”

“Yes.” She spit the word out, like she’d been trying not to say it.

Okay, the ghost was listening. Zandra had said to negotiate. Matthew’s palms dampened with cold sweat.

“I know you’re not a killer.” Another step. “I can help you in exchange for Penny’s safety. Tell me what you want.”

“Diane,” Penny said haltingly.

“Diane?” The woman who’d come with them? “I met her. What about her?”

“She’s…guilty.”

“I don’t understand. What is she guilty of?”

“Murder.”

“She’s guilty of murder,” Matthew repeated. His mind worked, trying to stay a step ahead. “She killed Demler—I mean, she killed you? And the girls?”

Penny’s head jerked up and down. Yes.

Matthew looked over his shoulder. He assumed that Diane was still in the house somewhere with Zandra and Ben. Why had she come? Were they in danger?

Think, Larsen, he told himself. Negotiate.

“You’re saying you want Diane? In exchange for Penny?” Another step. He’d made it about halfway up the staircase.

Penny’s eyes squeezed shut, her cheeks flushing red. She was fighting the ghost. Her head jerked again, this time side to side. She whimpered. Matthew’s chest clenched. He charged up two more steps, and Penny backed up, nearly falling over.

“No. You. You.”

“Me? Edmund wants…me?”

She didn't answer. Her lips trembled.

He looked into Penny’s face. He’d memorized every freckle on her cheeks. He knew just where she liked to be kissed, what kind of touch would make her sigh. For as long as he’d known her, she’d never felt comfortable asking for help, despite the fact—or perhaps even because of the fact—that Matthew would always give it. He’d give anything to her.

Now, seeing the torment in her eyes, Matthew understood.

A hostage switch. That was Demler’s offer.

Matthew didn’t even stop to wonder why. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered so long as Penny was safe. He’d give all of himself for her.

“You swear you’ll let Penny go? You’ll take me instead?”

A tear slipped along Penny’s nose. She gritted her teeth, her face a mask of anguish. “Don’t!” she bit out, before her mouth forced itself closed again.

Her arm raised, palm out. Her fingers bent, beckoning him.

Matthew mounted the last few stairs, stopping just below her. He set his flashlight by his feet. He hardly needed it now that his eyes were adjusting; the room glowed with moonlight from the span of windows above the entryway.

Penny’s eyes pleaded. Don’t do this. Please.

Zandra had said that Edmund couldn’t possess anyone but Penny—unless he had a voluntary host.

“You’d do the same for me, Penn. This time, I’m going to save you. The minute you’re free, you run. Okay?”

Matthew reached out for her hand.

Chapter Forty

Penny swayed at the top of the stairs, commanding her legs to move. But she remained stuck in place. Matthew was one step below, his eyes level with hers, reaching for her hand. Blood oozed from a cut across his cheek.

I’ll do what you want, Penny said to Edmund in her mind. Please just leave him alone.

Edmund stood beside Matthew, a few inches shorter, looking up at him. “I’d have done anything to save Tina. But I couldn’t protect her. I’m giving him the chance that I never had.”

Please, she begged silently. Don’t do this.

Matthew’s hand brushed hers. Exerting every last ounce of will, she pulled back. Their fingers broke contact. But Matthew stretched forward and firmly grasped her wrist.

“I’m ready,” he said. “Do it.”

No, Edmund, please, you can’t—

The ghost vanished into a cloud of silver light. The cloud flew at Matthew’s chest. At the same moment, Edmund’s hold on Penny released.

“No!” she screamed.

Matthew tottered backward.

Her fist shot out and grabbed the top of his vest. She pulled. He fell against her in a heap on the landing. His weight pressed down on her, his head lolling.

“Matthew?”

She gently rolled him to the side and lowered his head to the floor. Her hand went to his chest—he was breathing. But unconscious.

Edmund, she thought, what did you do? But the ghost didn’t respond. She didn’t feel his presence anymore. Was he with Matthew now? Her heart clenched.

She tapped his cheek gently. “Matthew, can you hear me?” Please say you’re still you.

Matthew groaned. “Penn? What happened?” He grimaced as he pushed himself up. “My head feels so strange. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I thought—” She couldn’t even say it. But this was still Matthew—her Matthew. “I was afraid you were gone.”

“I’m right here.” His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Her composure broke, and she sobbed against his shoulder.

It hadn’t worked. Edmund had tried to possess Matthew, but he’d failed. Thank God, it failed.

It’s over, she thought.

Her hope lasted for that fraction of a second.

Then Matthew’s arms tensed. He looked down at her again, and his eyes hardened in a way she’d never seen before.

He let her go. Penny scrambled backward across the landing.

Matthew stared down at his hands. He touched his chest. His face. His shoulders slouched, and he frowned with his teeth digging into his lower lip—Edmund’s mannerisms, she realized with horror.

“This isn’t…like before.” His voice was husky, low. He coughed. “Not how it was with you.”

“Edmund,” she whispered.

His gaze locked with hers again, and he nodded. “In the flesh.”

Penny’s stomach twisted. Nausea reared in her throat. “No. No.”

Edmund struggled to stand, wobbling on Matthew’s legs. He stumbled and caught himself against the staircase railing. “It’s really like I’m…inside of him. Seeing from his eyes.” His fingers went to his Adam’s apple. “Speaking with his voice. I hoped it might work like this, but I didn’t know for sure until I tried.”

“But if you’re here, then where’s Matthew?”

Matthew—Edmund—tapped at his temple. “He went to sleep, I guess. But he kept his word, unlike some people. He really does love you.”

Penny got up and lunged at him, grabbing his forearms. “Let him go. Now.”

But Edmund only smiled. “You’re the one who’s always talking about acceptance. Matthew made his choice. You couldn’t stop him.” He easily shook her off. “And you can’t stop me.”

Matthew’s tech vest beeped. It was the radio. Zandra’s voice came through. “Matthew, where are you?” she asked. Edmund looked down at the button, but he didn’t answer Zandra’s call.

Instead, he turned and peered over the balcony into the dark entryway below.

“What’re you going to do?” Penny asked.

“What I need to.” He flexed his hands. “No offense, but you hit like a girl. Matthew’s a lot stronger. More cooperative, too.”

He gripped the railing in his fists, shoulders tight, quiet for a moment. He seemed to be thinking. “I was planning to go back to Anderson’s car and track down Diane. But I can see Matthew’s memories. She’s already here.”

Chapter Forty-One

Zandra inhaled slowly, coming back to herself. Diane’s energy had receded, darkening with despair.

“Z?” Ben murmured. He sat with his head bowed, hands braced against his knees to keep upright.

“She was going to burn the whole house this time. With herself and us in it. All to keep Grant from being accused of Rosalee’s death? You really think your brother is worth it?”

Through the contact of their skin, Zandra felt Diane’s response: she had given up on Grant a long time ago. But she didn’t want the rest of Crimson Falls—all of her family—to realize the terrible things she’d done. Not for my own sake, Diane thought, but for theirs. She wanted to spare them all the pain of knowing the truth.

Zandra pulled her hand back from the woman’s face. “I can’t say you’re lying, but I don’t really believe your excuses, either. Rachel, Nicki, Tina and Edmund—they each had to die because they’d betrayed you. And you pretended it was justified.”

Of course, Diane had reserved an extra dose of ketamine to ease her own passing. Zandra fished the vial from the woman’s sweater pocket. Tears pooled on the floor beneath Diane’s head. The zip-ties still bound her hands and ankles. Diane wasn’t going anywhere.

Zandra checked Ben’s vitals—his blood pressure and heart rate had increased.

“Diane injected you with ketamine,” she said. “Things are going to feel weird for a few hours.” But he’d be fine, especially since he hadn’t gotten the full syringe.

“You’re beautiful.” He blinked languidly. “And…I just said that out loud. The room is starting to look…stretchy.”

“Ben, I don’t know if Matthew’s found Penny, but I have to go help. I need to see where the ghost trails are. Can I access your memory?”

He took her hand. His palm pressed flat against hers. She saw luminescent trails crossing the kitchen and pantry. The poltergeist had retreated—her trail now followed after Edmund’s, both leading toward the front of the house.

“I’ll have to leave you here,” Zandra said.

“Yeah, I’m useless. Sorry. But I could try to keep an eye on…” He tried to point in Diane’s direction.

“I don’t think that’s wise.” Zandra squeezed his hand, then let go.

Zandra picked up the syringe from where Ben had dropped it. After refilling the tube from Diane’s extra vial, she carefully stowed the injection in her bag. Next, she checked her phone. No service. That was unfortunate; she would’ve appreciated Sheriff Lofton’s help right about now.

She pressed the radio button on her vest. “Matthew? Where are you?”

He didn’t answer. Zandra opened a small flap on the vest, revealing a screen. A tiny green dot showed her location on a rudimentary grid. The map wasn’t easy to decipher without practice, but she’d used it dozens of times before. Ben was the red dot beside her; Matthew was somewhere north of her, inside the house.

The front hall. That fit with the trails Ben had seen. Matthew’s dot blinked, staying in one place. His vitals were elevated but steady. Maybe he’d found Penny.

Hopefully things hadn’t gone sideways for him, too.

“We need to move.” With her foot, she poked Diane in the side. “I’m going to remove the tie from your legs so you can walk.”

Diane tried to sit up. “Why?”

“Because I still need to get to Penny, and Ben’s out of it, thanks to you. He’s in no shape to be a babysitter.” She hauled Diane up to standing. “Try to run or cause trouble, and you’ll get that dose of ketamine you were saving.”

They crossed the kitchen and went through the dining room.

Zandra heard voices echoing from the foyer.

She peered around a corner. Matthew stood on the grand staircase. He said something, too quiet for Zandra to make out, and jogged down the steps. His boots thudded against the torn remnants of the carpet runner.

Penny stared after him from the second-floor landing, her face stricken.

Matthew’s eyes landed on Zandra across the foyer. “There you are. I found Penny. Come on.”

He grinned, and a shiver ran through her limbs. His aura felt all wrong. Zandra took a step back.

Then Matthew spotted Diane, and his energy turned menacing.

“Z, no,” Penny cried. “It’s Edmund.”

Edmund? Zandra’s grip tightened on Diane’s arm. “What do you mean?”

Matthew held out his hand. “I tried to get through to Penny, like you told me, but it’s no use. I need the restraints.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Penny dashed down the stairs, stopping when Matthew glared back at her.

“You’re lying,” Zandra spit out. “You’re not Matthew. You’re him.” That was what Penny had meant. What on earth had Matthew done?

Edmund’s smile slid away. “All I want is Diane.”

The woman grabbed at Zandra’s vest with her bound hands. “You can’t. If that’s really Edmund, he’ll kill me.”

“But what’ll I do to Matthew if you don’t?” Edmund said.

Zandra looked from Diane to Edmund—his aura now clear inside of Matthew, bristling with rage—and back again.

Diane had been ready to die for her secrets a few minutes ago. Yet now she begged for help?

“Pain is what she deserves,” Edmund said. He ambled toward them wearing Matthew’s body like a grotesque parody of a costume—the ghost hiding, peering out from inside. “But you wanted to negotiate with me, right? What are you offering?”

“Don’t give him anything,” Penny said.

Diane whimpered, cowering at Zandra’s feet. “You can’t.”

Zandra sensed the poltergeist—the ghost of the young woman, Tina—hovering nearby, calm for the moment. Tina wasn’t sentient, so she couldn’t have realized what was going on. But Zandra could still feel the girl’s desperate loneliness. Diane had murdered her, too.

Would death be justice for those Diane had killed? For all the suffering she’d caused? Zandra wasn’t so pure of heart that she abhorred vengeance in every form. Sometimes, vengeance seemed pretty damned right.

But Edmund would use Matthew to kill her. What would happen afterward, when the police arrived?

“Zandra, please…” Penny said. She stood on the stairs behind Edmund, shaking her head. Zandra could read enough from Penny’s aura to know she’d reached the same conclusions.

When the police found Diane’s body, Edmund would be nothing but a phantom. Matthew would be the one with blood on his hands.

Edmund looked from Penny to Zandra. Matthew’s handsome face turned ugly and cruel. “I’m not waiting any longer. Give her to me.”

Zandra pushed Diane in front of her. The woman sprawled on the floor, wailing incoherently. Edmund bared Matthew’s teeth as he approached.

But behind her back, Zandra reached into her bag. Her hand closed around the body of the syringe.

“Edmund, please.” Snot ran from Diane’s nose. “I only did what I had to. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did, Aunt Diane.”

He circled her. Diane wriggled backward, trying to reach the stairs, but he easily kept pace with her. “I’m going to take you down to the lake, and I’m going to do what you did to them. To Nicki. And Tina. And my mother.”

He fisted the top of Diane’s vest and hauled her upright.

Zandra pulled the syringe from her bag. Lifting the weapon, she ran toward him, aiming for the bare skin of his neck.

On the stairs, Penny’s eyes widened.

Edmund spun around. His forearm rose and slammed into hers. The syringe clattered to the floor. His fingers circled Zandra’s wrists and pulled her roughly against him, his breath hot on her forehead.

“Nice try, Z. But the look on Penny’s face gave you away. I can’t read her thoughts anymore, but I know her as well as Matthew now.”

Zandra’s wrists ached where he squeezed her. He shoved her, and she tripped backward over Diane. Her tailbone landed hard against the marble. He picked up the syringe. Furious energy pulsed from him in waves.

“Edmund, listen to me,” Penny said. “You have to stop this.”

He advanced toward Zandra and Diane, the syringe dangling from his hand. Diane didn’t move. Her aura was a haze of fear.

“Tina’s here,” Penny shouted.

Slowly, he turned back.

Penny took a step down. Then another. “She’s here. And I could wake her for you.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Hearing Edmund’s words in Matthew’s voice, seeing his sneer—it was unbearable to Penny. Edmund was going to murder Diane with Matthew’s hands. He could hurt Matthew, too, if he wanted. Even refuse to give his body back.

Penny would not allow any of that to happen. She didn’t care about the cost.

“Tina’s right here. I’ll wake her up. You could be with her again. Don’t you want to talk to her, after you’ve waited for all these years?”

“You can’t manipulate me, Penny,” Edmund said. “Tina’s been gone for a long time. In every way that matters.”

“But you could have her back.”

Tina’s ghost sat shivering near the top of the staircase, hair still damp, arms wrapped around her skinny knees. Throughout Edmund’s tirade inside Matthew’s body, Tina had kept up her incessant whispering. Wait for me. I’ll be there soon.

Tina was already a poltergeist. Waking her could be disastrous—if it was even possible. But Penny didn’t have a single bargaining chip left but this one.

“You can’t see her because Matthew can’t see her,” Penny explained. “But I can. She knows something’s happening here, and she’s confused. Afraid. She needs you.”

Edmund didn’t move as Penny descended the stairs. Diane struggled in his grip. Penny stepped onto the marble floor of the foyer and rested her hand on his elbow. Matthew’s body tensed at her touch, but Edmund didn’t pull away.

“I know how much you’ve missed her, having her so close all these years, but out of reach. I can give her back to you. And you to her.”

Edmund’s fist clenched around the syringe. But he was listening.

“You asked me earlier about waking ghosts,” Penny said. “Matthew knows I’ve done it before.”

“I know you did.” For several beats, Edmund only stared. “Don’t try to trick me. I swear to you Penny, you’ll regret it.”

“You could speak to her again. Haven’t you longed for that?”

“But you said Matthew can’t see her!”

“That’s right,” Penny murmured. “You’ll have to release him. Go back to your existence in this house, the way that it was before. But you’ll have Tina by your side. Awake, just like you.”

Please, Edmund, she thought. Please.

“And what about Diane?” Edmund asked.

“We take her to the sheriff.”

“So she can have her day in court? That’s cute.” Edmund laughed, and the sound cut across Penny’s heart. “Fine. Do it.” He threw the syringe across the room. It clattered into the shadows. “Prove you’re telling the truth. Wake Tina, and then I’ll decide what that’s worth to me.”

He assumed she was bluffing.

Edmund thought he understood Penny after their brief time together. But if he truly believed she’d allow Matthew to sacrifice himself, then Edmund didn’t know her at all.

Penny turned and climbed back up the stairs. The carpeting gave beneath her feet. She felt Edmund’s eyes on her. Below, the others had all gone quiet. Watching what she’d do.

Tina’s whispers increased in pitch. Wait, Edmund. Please. Wait.

Penny knelt beside the ghost. One moment, Tina seemed solid and real. Moonlight shone in her eyes. But the next, Penny could see the stairs through her, like she was about to fade away.

“Tina, I’m here to help you,” she murmured soothingly. “Don’t be afraid.”

The ghost showed no signs of hearing.

Penny touched the step where the girl sat. It wasn’t like touching Edmund when he’d occupied her mind—Tina had no substance at all. Like she was made of nothing but emotion and memory. Penny’s fingers went numb with cold. But nothing else happened.

Tina whispered, We’ll leave in the morning.

Desperation snuck into Penny’s voice. “Tina, listen.”

Penny had only woken a ghost once before. And truthfully, she didn’t quite know how she’d done it. She’d simply reached out and nudged the ghost awake. But that hadn’t been a poltergeist. And that ghost had only been dead for a month—not twenty-five years.

But this had to work. Penny had nothing else to offer him.

“Tina, I need you to look at me. Listen to my voice. Please. Edmund is here with me.”

We’ll leave, the girl whispered.

“Tina.”

Penny’s fingernails dug into her palm.

“Enough,” Edmund said below. “I’m tired of this. You’re lying to me, just like everybody else.”

Penny looked back. Edmund had grabbed Diane, forcing her to stand. The woman screamed and kicked as he lifted her off the ground. Zandra leaped up, trying to help Diane get free. But Edmund shoved Zandra so hard that her head bounced off the floor. She groaned, rolling to her stomach.

Edmund carried his aunt toward the front door.

He was taking her to the lake.

No. This couldn’t happen.

Again, Penny reached out for the ghost. But this time, she imagined herself opening up. All the defenses she’d built up over so many years, her futile efforts to protect herself—all of it fell away. She wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

Matthew had been willing to give everything to save her. But so was she.

Tina’s awful memories flowed into her, as they had before—the prick of the needle, the terror of the bucket of dark water. But Penny didn’t resist. Instead, she invited the ghost in. She let Tina’s spirit overwhelm her.

Bright silver light filled her vision. Cold ran through her veins.

Penny gasped for breath. She bent over on the staircase, retching. The world was spinning.

Then, suddenly, Penny felt herself receding, falling backward into the dark.

Someone else took her place.

Chapter Forty-Three

It was still night, but the shed was gone. Diane was gone. Tina blinked and looked around. She touched her face—warm, dry. Her lungs gratefully drew in air. She’d returned to Demler Mansion, though she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. But she hardly cared, so long as she never had to go back into that dark water. That awful, twisted dream.

“Edmund?” she called. “Where are you?”

Tina, a voice said, the words distant. You’re all right. Stand up.

Wobbling, Tina stood, nearly slipping on the threadbare carpet. She felt groggy, like she’d been sleeping a long time.

Go down the stairs, the strange voice instructed. We have to hurry.

Tina didn’t know where this voice had come from, yet it was familiar. Firm, but also soothing. She wanted to obey.

Tina found the railing and made her way down the steps. Her arms and legs felt weak and strange, like her body had changed somehow. A rushing noise pounded in her head. Moonlight shone through the bank of windows in the entryway, but she strained to see.

“What are you doing, Penny?” a man asked.

“Who is…” She had to clear her throat. Tina’s voice didn’t sound right, either. Maybe she was getting sick. “Who is Penny?”

She reached the floor and found several people staring at her. A dark-haired woman kneeled on the ground. A man stood in the open doorway, holding tight to a struggling Diane.

“What’s going on?” Tina asked. “Where’s Edmund?”

He’s right there, the voice said. He’s been waiting for you.

The man took a step back when Tina came near. She searched his face. Dirty-blond hair swept over his forehead. Unfamiliar blue eyes looked back at her. He was too tall. Too old.

This couldn’t be Edmund.

It is, the voice said.

His fist held tight to Diane’s shirt. But Diane looked wrong, too—wrinkles around her eyes, a sallowness to her cheeks.

“I don’t understand.” Tina’s voice cracked under the weight of the last few hours—the promises she and Edmund had made to one another, and then nearly drowning, which she still couldn’t say was reality or a dream. Now this surreal version of the world, where everything looked different.

This voice, speaking to her.

I know it’s frightening. But everything will be all right.

Tina couldn’t grasp where the voice came from. But it calmed her. She trusted it.

“Edmund?” she asked.

“Penny, stop.” The man’s throat moved as he swallowed. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Tina brushed the red scrape on his cheek with her fingers. He cringed. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Not as much as everything else.”

Her eyes stung. “It is you.”

Edmund sucked in a stuttering breath. “Tina?” he whispered.

“I told you I’d be right back. But I think I must’ve taken a long time.”

His mouth closed, trying to stifle a sob. A tear slid along the curve of his cheekbone. Diane broke free of his grasp, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Tina.” His hands cupped the nape of her neck, drawing her close. Their foreheads touched. Tina stretched her arms around the broadness of his back.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t get to you. I tried—for so long—”

“I was just scared you wouldn’t wait for me.”

He brought his mouth to hers. Edmund’s lips were chapped, and his cheeks scratched her more than before. He smelled different, felt different against her, yet her heart raced for him just the same as before.

It’s time to go, the soothing voice said.

“It’s almost morning,” she reminded him. “The bus will be here soon. We’d better hurry.”

His frown returned, his eyes closing off. “We can’t. Not yet.”

“But why?”

“This isn’t finished.”

Edmund let go of her. He hurried through the doorway onto the front porch. Tina followed. The sky expanded above them. The moonlight was brighter now, turning Edmund’s newly blond hair a dusty blue. Far below—down a cascade of stone steps—the lake glittered like a sheet of black glass.

Diane was running down the stairs. She’d made it halfway to the lake, her hands clasped oddly in front of her.

Edmund charged after her, boots nearly sliding out from under him. Diane screamed when he grabbed her. He threw her against the sharp lines of stone. For a split second they were frozen, painted in harsh brushstrokes of black and gray and blue—Edmund towering over his aunt on the stairs, the valley and mountains sketched in charcoal behind them.

“We have to punish her, Tina. She hurt us both.”

“But we’re okay.” Tina hurried after him. She tried to take his hand, but he pulled out of her reach. “I don’t understand everything that’s gone on,” she said. “You were right, we should’ve stayed together earlier. But we’re together now. We can tell the police in Denver—”

“No, Tina. That isn’t going to work. Don’t you get it?” He spit each word like a curse. “Don’t you see?”

Tina crossed her arms over her middle, shrinking back from him. This wasn’t the Edmund she knew. He wasn’t the same—not on the outside, and not within.

Edmund grabbed Diane by the throat.

“Nobody cares about people like us, Tina.” He watched as Diane’s eyes bulged. Her bound hands clawed at his wrist. “They’ll pretend for a while, but when the truth comes to the surface, we find out we have no one. In the end, we’re all alone.”

“But you have me,” she cried. “And I thought I had you.”

Edmund’s grip faltered. Diane coughed and wheezed.

“You said you loved me.” To her, Edmund had spoken those words just hours ago. Minutes. “Were you pretending, too?”

“No,” he whispered. “Never. You’re the one thing that was always real.”

“Then why isn’t that enough now?”

His arm lowered. Diane slumped into a heap at his feet. His face went slack, the rage fading into despair. “Because you’re gone. And so am I.”

“But we’re standing right here.”

He walked, one halting step at a time, down the rest of the stairs toward the lake. At the last one he sat, arms folding, bowing his head.

Tina went after him. She rested her palm on his elbow. “Edmund?” she asked.

“When they were finished,” he murmured, “the creek ran red.”

She sat beside him. “I know it’s hard. Nothing is the way we thought it would be. But we can still go together. The bus isn’t here yet. There’s still time.”

She lifted his chin. His face was wet.

“But I’m…scared.”

“Come with me. And we’ll never leave each other again.”

Edmund kissed her one more time. She tasted salt on his lips.

Then he said something that Tina didn’t understand: “Penny, I’m sorry. I don’t know how…What do I do?”

In Tina’s mind, the voice whispered to her.

“She said we just have to let go.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Two days later, Zandra knocked on the door of Penny and Matthew’s hotel room. She heard voices inside.

“Coming,” Penny said.

The hotel hallway was nondescript, decorated in tasteful shades of pastel. Geometric patterns criss-crossed on the carpet. Zandra’s own room was a floor up; Ben’s was a few doors down. Anderson had a suite with decent mountain views now that he’d checked out of the hospital. They’d chosen a hotel close to the highway, about thirty minutes’ drive from Crimson Falls.

The distance was slightly inconvenient, given all the time they’d been spending at the Sheriff’s Office. But it also felt necessary. Media vans had gathered up and down Main Street, harder by the day to avoid.

The circus has officially come to town, Trey Lofton said that morning. And I’m guessing you’ll soon be on your way out.

Zandra had just nodded, because Trey was right. The Mercury Group had cleared every last ghost from Demler Mansion, even the lingering spirit of Edmund’s mother. But this time, they couldn’t make the aftermath any easier for the living. Trey would have to figure out that part on his own.

Penny’s door opened. “Hey, Z. Come in. We were just packing up.” Penny’s aura eddied around her, but Zandra worked hard not to read it. Penny deserved a little bit of privacy after all she’d been through.

Matthew nodded a greeting. “I was just going to take our suitcases out to the car.”

Zandra stepped out of his way. After he’d gone, she said, “I really appreciate you doing this.”

Penny waved the pleasantry away. “Of course. It’s nothing. I could come with you to Denver, though. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“Mercury doesn’t give out awards for most selfless agent,” Zandra teased. “I think you’ve done enough.”

She thought of Penny and Matthew holding one another down by the lake outside Demler Mansion, and the profound stillness that had fallen over Shady Valley.

Diane hadn’t tried to escape. Instead, she’d confessed to everything: the murders of Nicki, Tina, Edmund and Rosalee, though Zandra—and Grant Demler—knew that she hadn’t been present at Rosalee’s death.

She’d admitted to planning Vera’s murder as well. I had no choice, Diane had protested. The same thing she’d said about each person she’d killed. When Ben knocked on the door and interrupted her, Diane had been running a bath. He’d saved Vera’s life.

A few hours later—as deputies swarmed around Demler Mansion—Vera woke up from her ketamine-induced haze to her nephew Trey pounding on her door. Last Zandra heard, Vera had asked Trey to plan the demolition of the entire Demler property. Soon, it would be wiped away, nothing but a memory.

Zandra didn’t completely understand Diane’s motives, even now, despite having seen inside the woman’s head. But maybe there was no way to fully comprehend the reasoning of a serial killer. You’d have to bend your own mind to make it fit.

The case was nearly over—statements given, reports typed and submitted. Penny and Matthew would head back to Ashton today. But Zandra had one last promise to keep.

Hannah Eckert was still in a coma in her Denver hospital room.

“What do I do?” Penny asked.

“Just think of Tina’s last memories. Her death. I need to have a clear picture before I go in there.”

“Okay.” Penny closed her eyes. “Ready.”

Zandra held Penny’s hands. Tina’s memories washed over her. It was easier to bear now that Edmund and Tina were together, finally at peace. But she had to sit down for a moment, letting the visions settle.

Hannah would have seen these same violent images as she fell inside Demler Mansion. Once Zandra removed the traumatic transferred memories from Hannah’s mind, she would—with any luck—wake up from her coma. Zandra would have a monster migraine, but otherwise she’d come out fine. As long as everything went according to plan.

“There’s something I don’t get,” Penny said. “You told me Ross picked up a transferred memory from Edmund because Edmund was a medium. But if that’s true, how did Hannah get the memory from Tina?”

Zandra had asked herself this very question, but hadn’t found a clear answer. “It’s possible that Edmund’s presence affected Hannah indirectly. But I think it was Hannah’s own similar history to Tina—being a runaway, feeling lost—that made her especially receptive to Tina’s memories.”

Penny nodded, quiet for a moment or two. “You won’t be alone, will you?”

“Ben’s coming with me.”

“What about Anderson?”

“He’s busy. It’s better if he doesn’t know.” Anderson had plenty of his own issues to deal with.

Penny glanced around the empty room. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

Zandra let her senses dip, for just a moment, into Penny’s aura. “We’ll see each other again soon,” she said, and knew that Penny felt the same.

* * *

Ben’s Subaru pulled into the hospital parking lot. He switched off the car, but he didn’t move to get out. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Wow,” Zandra said. “A three hour drive, and you wait until now?”

“I pride myself on my timing. Technically we’re fifteen minutes early.”

True. Kacey Eckert wasn’t expecting them yet. They’d cleared the visit with the nurses. Zandra would have an hour with Hannah, though it wouldn’t take so long to pluck the memory of Tina’s death from the girl’s mind. Ben would stay by Zandra’s side, keeping physical contact with her to provide a sort of guidepost back out of Hannah’s mind. They had to make sure that Zandra didn’t wind up in a coma herself. But she knew the exact memory to search for—thanks to Penny—so she doubted there was any real danger.

“I forget sometimes how gossipy mediums can be,” she said. “I only got the offer this morning. I’d still need to complete the interview and training process, but they said it’s just a formality. If I want Anderson’s job as a handler, it’s mine.”

Anderson had asked for a temporary reassignment. He’d said he needed to spend more time in the field, brush up on his tactics. I failed you, Z. All of you. What I need is a swift kick in the ass. Anderson wasn’t truly a medium, but his knowledge and pre-cognition would be an asset as an agent. He just needed to partner with the right person.

Zandra had the opportunity to trade places with him—be the supervisor. Make the hard decisions. But did she really want that responsibility? She hadn’t decided yet.

“I owe you a bottle of champagne,” Ben said. “The real stuff, not the crap that the hotel will have tonight. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

A car pulled in past them. Ben adjusted his weight in the small seat. The solidity of his presence comforted her. After they were done at the hospital, he’d drive her to the adjoining rooms they’d booked for tonight. They’d order room service and dive into a marathon of the Die Hard movies. It was almost Christmas, after all. Tomorrow he’d go home to his big family and their compound in South Denver, while Zandra would head to her apartment in Albuquerque. She hadn’t mentioned that she had no plans for the holiday itself.

“Our partnership didn’t last very long, did it?” he asked. “Four days?”

“It’s for the best. Some might even say that partnering with me is a punishment.” She smirked at him. “You’re officially out of probation.”

“Ha—I deserved that. But you’ll make a great boss. I look forward to getting disciplined by you.”

“You had to make it weird.”

They both cracked up. “We should head inside,” she said, “before you say something else I’ll have to report to HR.”

She reached for the door handle, but Ben said, “Wait.”

She heard the shift in his voice, felt it in his energy.

“We’re not really partners anymore,” he said softly. “And you’re not my boss yet. So I figure this is my only chance to…”

Zandra leaned across the cabin and kissed him.

Ben’s fingers wound into her hair as he tilted her head for better access. She’d started the kiss, but he was the one in charge, setting the pace. He tasted like the green apple slices he’d eaten on the drive. She already knew she’d be replaying this moment later on, remembering the weight of his hand on her thigh, and the unconcealed hunger in his thoughts.

They broke apart. “Ben,” she said, “you know that I can’t…”

“I know.” He ran his tongue over his lip. “We were just getting it out of the way.”

“Good.” She pulled the door handle and dove outside, gasping in the cold December air.

This was the one and only time. Better now, when Kacey expected them inside in five minutes, than later tonight at the hotel when they might do something foolish.

Zandra didn’t have room in her life for a relationship, especially not with a Mercury agent. That wasn’t going to change. But for one, breathless moment, she’d enjoyed pretending otherwise.

They took the elevator to the third floor. Kacey stood up when she saw them, her aura unwinding with relief. “We’re ready for you. Hannah’s room is this way.”

Just before they followed, Ben said, “Hey, Z.”

Zandra looked back at him.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“What do you mean? You’d better not be going anywhere. You’re my lighthouse back to shore.” She grinned. “Besides, you might need to wheel me out to the car afterward. It’s not going to be pretty.”

But his aura told her that he wasn’t referring to the session with Hannah Eckert or the transferred memories.

“I know you know.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “Just wanted you to hear me say it.”

Epilogue

Christmas Eve

Matthew stopped in the front doorway. Crosby was already outside, pulling at her leash. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asked.

Penny gave him a push out onto the porch. “I’m mid-bake. I can’t go anywhere.”

“Exactly. I’m a little scared to leave.” He grimaced, eyes sliding toward the kitchen. Flour and sugar dusted the countertops, and a teetering stack of mixing bowls waited in the sink. “Don’t set the oven on fire until I’m back?”

“Oh, stop. That was one time.” And she’d never put parchment paper under the broiler again.

Matthew grinned and jogged toward the street. Penny shut the door behind him, resting her back against it.

For the first time in too long, she was finally, completely, alone.

Since she’d returned to Ashton a couple of days ago, she’d been spending a lot of time with her family at the inn. They’d all had a million questions about what happened in Crimson Falls. She’d learned that she had Bryce, her brother, to thank for Matthew showing up and finding her at Demler Mansion. Now that she’d gone over those events—both with her Mercury teammates and inside her own mind—she couldn’t see any other way that Edmund and Tina would’ve found peace.

Though that peace had come at a cost for Penny and Matthew both. Sleepless nights, for one. But they’d been keeping busy, rearranging furniture and negotiating space in the house that would very soon be her house, too. After New Year’s, Penny would return to Los Angeles to pack all her stuff, load it into a moving truck, and turn over her keys to her apartment.

There’d been several difficult and tearful conversations with her business partner, Linden, about leaving their PR agency. It felt more like a break-up than a pragmatic financial decision. They were unwinding years of emotional entanglement, shared memories, dreams about their future. Penny doubted that their friendship would survive this, at least not in the same form. But Linden wished her well and said that she understood Penny’s reasons. Which was impressive, considering Penny was still trying to figure them out.

The house was too quiet. The oven made a ticking sound, and Penny jumped a little.

She found herself thinking of Zandra. They hadn’t spoken in days, not since the news that Hannah woke up from her coma.

She opened FaceTime. Zandra answered immediately, waving hello.

“Penny! I’m glad you called.”

“Merry almost Christmas. I’m not interrupting your celebration, am I?”

Zandra flipped her camera to show her quiet apartment. Cozy, overstuffed chairs, Navajo blankets, lots of light. “I’m not so big on holidays. I thought you’d be half-drunk on eggnog by now.”

Penny sat on a stool, resting her elbows on the counter. “Festivities start in the morning. Today it’s just me and Matthew and cookie-baking.”

“Enjoying domestic bliss?”

Penny snickered. “If that includes mutual insomnia and recurring nightmares after being possessed by murdered ghosts? Then yes. Bliss.” Her finger dragged a trail through grains of spilled sugar.

When Tina had possessed her at Demler Mansion, Penny sensed everything that Tina thought or felt. The sensation had been disorienting, as if she’d occupied two different minds at once. Penny had separated from her body before, but never so fully. With Tina’s spirit inside her, she’d surrendered every familiar anchor to her physical self—her heartbeat, her breath, her skin. It was like floating above an endless abyss, knowing she’d lose any semblance of sanity if she looked down.

Matthew had described his experience as more dreamlike, more surreal. He’d had a vague awareness of Edmund’s thoughts and actions, but the real world seemed like a television show playing in the background.

He remembered Edmund’s death, though. The dark despair and rage. Edmund had chosen his love for Tina over vengeance in the end, but the decision had not been easy.

“I could take away the worst memories,” Zandra said. “It worked for Hannah.”

Penny shook her head. Zandra had made this offer before, but Matthew and Penny had both declined. As terrible as the possessions had been, the experience was part of them now. Matthew finally understood, in a small way, how Penny’s ability affected her. And Penny had given up everything—her very self—when she allowed Tina to possess her, yet she’d managed to come back whole.

For Penny, the only way forward was to remember, not to forget.

“What about the agent position?” Zandra asked. “Have you said yes?”

“Not yet.”

A Mercury rep had called her before she even left Crimson Falls to make the offer. She still hadn’t figured out what to do.

For so much of her life, she’d been running from her ability. She had agreed to work temporarily with Anderson so that she could get back to living a “normal” life. But so many people out there—the dead and the living—needed help.

She remembered the terrible loop of Tina Freeman’s last memories. How the girl had prayed for mercy, for someone to come and save her from that nightmare. Other lost souls in this world hoped for the same.

Penny was finally ready to answer the call. She just didn’t know if that meant joining the Mercury Group. The organization—its funding, its motives—remained a mystery to her.

Yet whenever Penny thought about her future as a medium, she could only think of Zandra.

“What about you?” Penny asked. “Did you say yes to taking Anderson’s place?”

“Well…I’ve been meaning to tell you. I turned them down. I love being an agent. This is where I belong.”

“Really? I’m sure Ben will be happy to hear that.” Penny knew that he and Zandra didn’t get along perfectly, but Ben seemed to respect her. He’d been glum the last time Penny spoke with him. I’m going back to the pool for reassignment, he’d said. But I doubt the guy who struck out with his last two partners will be very popular.

Zandra barked a laugh. “Ben and I aren’t a good fit. Trust me, he’s going to be fine with someone new. When I declined the handler position, I asked Mercury for a special appointment instead. I’ll remain an agent, but with free rein to choose my own cases and decide how they’re run.”

“That’s incredible. But how do you know that Mercury will keep its word?”

“Aside from the fact that I can read minds?” Her grin turned lopsided. “I spoke to my contact in person before I left Denver yesterday. It’s a done deal. I don’t have a partner yet, but…”

“What about me?” Penny blurted out.

“You?”

“I realize that I have a lot to learn, but our talents complement one another. Right?”

Zandra didn’t say anything.

“Is it that bad of an idea?” Penny kept her tone light, but inside she was shriveling. Until right now, she hadn’t even let herself hope for Zandra as a partner. Zandra was supposed to be taking Anderson’s place.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised.”

“And I put you on the spot. I shouldn’t have.” Plus, Penny didn’t have the best track record as a partner. Linden, her now ex-best friend in L.A., could attest to that. “I’m sure you have a ton of other people to consider, and it’s a special appointment…I will close my mouth now. In fact, I think I hear the cookie timer, so—”

“Penny, hold on. Wait. I would love to have you as my partner. But I truly thought you’d say no. I figured you wouldn’t accept Mercury’s offer at all.” Zandra scooted forward on her seat. “You have to be sure that you trust me. Because it’ll be the two of us out there. If this partnership is going to work, we both have to be committed.”

“I know, I…” Say you’re sure, she told herself. But the words remained stuck in her throat. “I just thought we could make a good team.”

“It’s better if we don’t rush into it,” Zandra said.

The cookie timer buzzed.

* * *

Penny opened her eyes in the dark. She picked up her phone from the nightstand—three a.m. Her usual early-morning sleeplessness had arrived.

She knew why: on the last morning that Tina and Edmund had seen one another alive, they’d said goodbye at three. It would probably be a while before she and Matthew could sleep past it.

Right on cue, Matthew rubbed his face beside her, yawning.

“Merry Christmas,” she said.

“Did Santa come?” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

“He better. We left cookies.” Only slightly over-baked, she was proud to say.

Penny pushed down the covers and got up.

“Where are you going?” Matthew had a twinge of panic in his voice.

“Just to the living room. I left your present under the tree.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She didn’t argue; there was no use. Edmund’s memories were stronger at this time of night.

When they walked into the living room, Crosby lifted her head from her paws. Penny switched on the lamp. Matthew dropped onto the couch, petting the dog’s head when she came near.

Penny found the box she’d wrapped and left here last night, after her conversation with Zandra. She set the gift in Matthew’s lap. He made no move to open it.

“I accepted the job with Mercury,” she told him. “I’m going to be Zandra’s partner.”

On their FaceTime call, Penny had hesitated, but only for the minute she needed to get the cookies out of the oven. Then she’d told Zandra she was absolutely sure.

The deal wasn’t final yet. Zandra had warned that the Mercury Group would send over a bunch of electronic documents for her to sign. Penny planned to ask Bryce’s girlfriend for help, though Eliza would probably protest that she wasn’t that kind of lawyer. She’d know someone, though.

“Penn, that’s big. But it’s fast. You just ended things with Linden.”

“You don’t think I should work for Mercury?”

A dozen different worries played across his face. “I like Zandra a lot. Ben, too. But you’ve only been back here a couple days. You haven’t even officially moved in with me, and you’re talking about leaving again. Because your cases won’t be in Ashton, right?” He sighed, reaching for her hand. “I know what a huge step this is for you, working as a medium. Embracing your ability. But I also feel like I can’t keep up with you.”

“Open your gift. It’ll help explain.”

He squinted at her. “I really don’t see how. And your parents won’t like it if we open all our presents early.”

“This one’s special.” Penny snuggled in beside him, folding her legs beneath her. “Come on.”

She ripped the paper away, so Matthew played along and removed the box lid. “Your jogging shoes?” He lifted one out, wrinkling his nose at the dirt on the soles.

“This is my goofy, romantic gesture.” She took the box and set it on the coffee table. “It means I’m not running away anymore. Not from my ability, and not from you. Zandra said we’ll choose our own cases. Set our own schedule. And whenever I’m not working, I’ll be here in Ashton. With you.”

He was silent for about a minute too long.

“I realize it’s not exactly what you wanted,” she said. “I won’t be here all the time. But I still think we can make this work.”

His eyes had slid away to the side. She pushed his hair back from his forehead. “We’re not them,” she said gently. “Tina and Edmund? We’re going to be all right.”

Matthew blinked, inhaling. “Of course we are.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I was just busy thinking what a lucky guy I am. I’m probably going to say something awful like, ‘All I want for Christmas is you,’ so fair warning.”

He moved in to kiss her, but Crosby crawled up in between them and licked Matthew’s chin. Penny laughed at the forty pounds of black-and-white fur now occupying their laps. So they leaned their heads together and enjoyed the moment just as it was.

Everyone in Ashton—or the whole world—could call her “ghost girl” if they wanted. She didn’t care. For the first time in her life, she knew exactly where she belonged.

The End.

Sparks fly when Penny invites Zandra and Ben to Ashton for New Year’s…Download the free bonus epilogue to find out what happens!

* * *

Penny and Zandra will return in a new paranormal thriller series, Mercury Mediums!

Book 1 coming in 2022.

And watch for more books in the Penny Wright series, coming soon!

Also by A.N. Willis

Devil’s Night: The Haunting of January House

Penny Wright Series, Book 1

All her life, Penny Wright has seen ghosts. When she returns to Eden, one of the most haunted ghost towns in America, Penny makes a grisly discovery. The ruins of Eden hide a terrifying secret. But some truths are better left buried... A gripping supernatural suspense tale, perfect for fans of Home Before Dark and The Sun Down Motel.

Angel Eyes: The Haunting of January House

Penny Wright Series, Book 2

Everyone in Ashton, Colorado, knows that January House is haunted. It's been the site of grisly murders and unsolved disappearances. When a reclusive painter dies there, medium Penny Wright reluctantly agrees to investigate. But the walls of January House conceal a terrifying secret. And this time, it's the living who pose the greatest threat.

How Much It May Storm

1943: When Dinah sees a young soldier out in the snow—a soldier who supposedly died in the last Great War—she follows him into the woods. But what she discovers will force Dinah to confront the dangerous darkness hiding inside those she least suspects. Read this chilling historical ghost story.

The Byrne House Duology

Evelyn is the last to see her classmate the day he disappears—just a pale face in the tower window of the mansion across the street. She vows to find him. But once she opens this door, there’s no going back. A supernatural gothic tale with a thrilling historical mystery.

Under Glass and Stone (Book 1)

Doors of Gold and Rust (Book 2)

Ebook Box Set with Books 1 and 2

About the Author

A.N. Willis writes supernatural suspense and gothic mysteries where the past never stays buried. To get exclusive content, learn more about her books, and hear about her new releases, sign up for her newsletter.

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