Taken at Dusk (Page 25)

Sitting up cautiously, giving Socks his obligatory morning pat, she looked around. The sun streamed through the blinds and cast horizontal shadows on the floor.

What time was it? She swept her hair from her face.

Her gaze shot to the clock. Seven. Was that what didn’t feel right … that she hadn’t been nudged awake by an impatient spirit? Was her Jane Doe ghost not a morning ghost? Then again, maybe amnesia prevented someone from judging time.

Not that Kylie was complaining. Her last spirit had rarely let Kylie sleep a minute past dawn.

Seeing her phone, Kylie remembered Holiday and snatched up the cell, hoping to find Holiday had called or texted her. Before Kylie and Burnett had gotten back to the office, Holiday had called Burnett and asked if he could take over the camp for a day or so because she had a family emergency and had to leave. The only thing Holiday had told Burnett was that she had to deal with this.

Burnett had been worried, too. Kylie had heard the frustration in his voice when he spoke with Holiday and she wouldn’t elaborate on the type of emergency.

Kylie had phoned and texted Holiday but hadn’t gotten an answer before she’d gone to bed.

Checking her call log, she found two texts. One from Sara, her old best friend whom Kylie had probably just healed of cancer-please let that be so-and then one from Holiday.

Kylie breathed a sigh of relief as she read Sara’s message that she was feeling great, then quickly read Holiday’s. It was short and simple. All is ok. B back soon.

Wanting more reassurance, Kylie dialed the camp leader’s number.

"Hey," Holiday answered. "Is everything okay?"

Kylie almost told her about the dream with the rogue vampire, but her gut said Holiday had something else on her plate. Besides, Holiday had already told her how to deal with this, and if Kylie had listened to her instincts, this wouldn’t have happened. "Yeah, just worried about you. Are you back at camp yet?"

"Not yet. I should be there this afternoon." She grew quiet. "I’m sorry I had to bail before we talked. Are you dealing with everything okay? Nothing else has happened, has it?"

"No, I’m fine. We were just concerned about you."

"We?"

"Burnett and me," she said, remembering her promise to herself to play matchmaker. "What happened?" Kylie asked hesitantly, not wanting to overstep her bounds. But her relationship with Holiday felt like more than just camp leader and camper. She truly cared about her.

Holiday was quiet for a moment. "My great-aunt passed away."

"Oh, Holiday, I’m so sorry. Can I do anything?" A cold entered the room. Kylie ignored it and focused on the phone conversation. She’d deal with Jane Doe in a few minutes.

"No. I’m fine," Holiday said. "It was her time. But she didn’t get her estate in order and now…"

Kylie felt her mattress dip down. She glanced up, and sitting on the foot of her bed was an older woman wearing a yellow housedress and a beautiful pale blue tear-shaped crystal necklace.

"The will is taped to the bottom left drawer of my dresser. But I want her to take all my crystal pieces. Don’t let Marty take them, and she’ll try. She’s a sneaky little twit."

Kylie studied the woman’s gray hair hanging down around her shoulders and then noted her eyes were a bright green that looked vaguely familiar.

Kylie’s hold on the phone tightened and she shivered. Holiday had told her that she would eventually be able to see more than one ghost at a time. It looked as if that time had arrived. But could she handle it?

"Tell her," the ghost said, and that’s when Kylie knew why the eyes were so familiar. She tightened her brows and checked the woman’s pattern.

Holiday started talking. "Dealing with the estate is going to be such a-"

"Uh, Holiday…?" Kylie said. "What does your great-aunt look like?"

"Why?"

"Because I think she’s sitting on the end of my bed. If it’s her, the will is taped to the bottom left drawer of her dresser."

The ghost started floating up to the ceiling as if something were pulling her away.

"Long gray hair," Holiday answered. "And green eyes."

"It’s her," Kylie answered, now looking at the spirit floating near the ceiling. "So you’d better check out her dresser."

The ghost smiled. "Thank you."

"Thanks, Kylie," Holiday said.

Kylie felt another chill and pulled the covers up a bit. "No problem."

The ghost started to fade into the ceiling, then stopped and slid back down. "Almost forgot. They wanted me to tell you something. Someone lives and someone…" She vanished, leaving the sentence unfinished.

But Kylie knew what she meant.

"Dies," Kylie said, and closed her eyes. Someone lives and someone dies. The message wasn’t just the mutterings of a crazy amnesia ghost. But how could Kylie make things right if she didn’t know what to do?

Chapter Eleven

Dressed and still fighting the feeling that something wasn’t right, Kylie stepped out of her room an hour later. Either Miranda and Della had already left, or they were still asleep. Either way, Kylie was happy not to have to face them. First, she hoped to find Helen, the half-fae who also had the gift of healing. Kylie wasn’t sure if the "someone will live and someone will die" message meant she could prevent a death, but she had to try. Then she planned to talk with Burnett and tell him what she knew about Holiday. Not that Kylie was doing it behind the camp leader’s back.

Before they’d hung up, she had asked if she could share their conversation with Burnett. When Holiday had wavered, Kylie asked her how she’d feel if Burnett disappeared on "an emergency" and didn’t explain himself.

"Fine," Holiday said.

Although she hadn’t sounded happy about it.

* * *

A few minutes later, Kylie started out of the cabin, tripped, and landed half on and half off the huge black Lab that was curled up on the welcome rug in front of the door.

"What the heck?" Stunned, she scrambled to get up and, in the process, stepped on the canine’s tail. The dog yelped as if in pain, and guilt filled Kylie’s lungs. "Sorry."

Was the animal hurt? Once an injured dog had shown up at her doorstep when she’d been a kid. Her mom had her dad take it to the vet and they’d ended up having to put it down.

Kylie had cried and blamed her mom for killing the dog. With the emotional footprints of that memory tugging at her heartstrings, Kylie crouched down.

"Sorry," she told the dog again, and let it sniff her hand before she gave it a gentle pat. "Are you hurt? You get hit by a car or something?"