Page 10 of Cold Sacrifice

The painting was of an old blue house, tall and weathered. Red, yellow, and white flowers crowded the yard, spilling around shrubs and climbing along a weathered fence. There were woods behind the house, and the sky was thick with fluffy white clouds.

It was a painting that wanted to make a person think of open windows, buzzing bees, and lemonade sipped on the porch as the world moved slowly by.

I found it depressing.

The ghost, however, seemed fascinated by it. His focus was intense. I walked to the side of the bed and stared up at him, but he didn’t so much as twitch.

“Hello,” I said.

Nothing.

“Joe, cover up the house with your hands. I want to see what he does. He’s not hearing my voice.”

Joe strode to the bed immediately and reached over to put his palms flat against the painting.

Finally, the ghost came to life. “What?” he said. “No! Leave this place, trespasser!”

He was having trouble separating reality from the painting. And to him, Joe’s hands were somehow inside the painting. None of it was logical, but it didn’t need to be. The ghost was a little crazy.

And he wanted to go home.

I’d never sent a spirit into a painting, but it seemed possible. “You can move away,” I told Joe. “I need to figure out how to get him out of this world and into the painting.”

And finally, Vanessa’s ghost seemed to understand that I could see him, and that I was going to help him.

He flung himself at me, tried—and failed—to grab my arm, then yelled and jabbered and gestured until finally, I pointed my finger at him. “Quiet,” I said, “or I’ll leave this apartment and take the painting with me.”

He recoiled immediately, his hand over his mouth. “Please,” he whispered. “Send me in. Send me home. I have to go home.”

I frowned. “I’ve never done anything like this before, but I’m going to try. Okay?”

I began to pace the small room, thinking. And after five minutes of absolutely nothing, I had a very good idea. I called the office.

Gracie Dawn answered immediately. “Spooks and Kooks,” she said cheerfully. “This is Gracie Dawn speaking. How may I help you?”

For a few seconds, I was too taken aback to speak. “Gracie, this is Kait. I need to speak to Max, but first, I need to tell you that if you ever call my place of business Spooks and Kooks again, I will fire you.”

Joe laughed but quickly turned it into a cough when I glared at him.

“I gotcha,” Gracie said. “Sorry about that, hon. It’s just…this place needs a killer name, you know?”

“That’s not the one,” I said. “Please put Max on.”

“He’s just coming back from the restroom. Here you go. It’s Kait.”

“Kait? You could’ve called my cell phone.”

“I know. But I need the office phone because Richard may be more connected to things in the office. Go into my office and put me on speaker on my desk phone.”

“Hold on.”

I heard him put the phone down, and then his footsteps fading as he hurried into my office. In seconds, he was on my desk phone.

“Now what?” he asked.

“I need to see if Richard is there,” I told him. “I have questions about a ghost…crossing. Sort of.”

And abruptly, Richard’s voice drifted into my ear. “Interesting,” he said. “You’re already asking for my help.”