reception last Saturday night. I’d
thought she’d come for Ethan. Now I think she was there for you.”
“My Jennifer is dead! Some sicko tried to sell her in an
online auction. When the police tracked him down, he killed them all, all those
girls! The only saving grace is that vice detectives apprehended Terrence Mills
and evidence at the scene helped put him away for life.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s a relief to
know the bastard got what was coming to him.”
“Obviously your headache is causing you to say such
outlandish things.”
“It’s not my headache, ma’am. I saw Jennifer. She had long
dyed black hair set in pigtails, dressed in Goth clothing and looked much like
you, very pretty, with kind eyes and intelligence.”
Alisa raised her eyes. Her sadness had been replaced with
self-loathing. Drawing back, Morgan felt the onslaught of negativity and guilt.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mrs. Bailey.”
“If I hadn’t hired that witch Erica White, my daughter would
have been found alive. Detectives Maddox and Riley wouldn’t have focused so
hard on my husband, my husband, as the primary suspect in her
disappearance. They’d have found Terrence Mills before it was too late!”
“Where is Erica now? I could talk to her for you.”
“I hope to God she’s dead somewhere in a ditch for all the
pain she’s caused me and my family. Excuse me…”
Alisa Bailey’s voice trailed off and she left. It wasn’t
until after the door closed that Morgan felt goose bumps shiver over her skin.
The room’s warmth had been invaded with a coolness that couldn’t be mistaken.
Even though no one else was in the bathroom, she wasn’t
alone. Sharp pain sliced through her skull, creating the headache she’d known
would come if she continued to use her gifts.
The lights flickered rapidly, adding to the discomfort. Time
stood still.
Reaching out to God to be certain she wasn’t communicating
with something other than Jenna, she remained very still, listening and
praying. The most frightening thing about talking to the dead was the ability
for evil to mask itself as something innocent.
Children were frequently the devil’s greatest trick. When
she felt protected by God’s goodness, she opened herself further to Jennifer.
“Jenna, if you’re her, please show yourself. Use me if you
must.” She turned on her digital voice recorder by rote as a vague impression
of a girl slowly manifested in front of the door where Alisa had gone through.
Just as she’d seen last Saturday night, Jenna presented
herself in her favorite clothing, combat boots, a lot of black, a dog collar
and dyed black hair set in pigtails. This was what she’d been wearing when she
died.
“See this device in my hand? You can talk to me and others
will hear you. Let them hear you. Nod your head if you understand.”
The teenager inclined her head, her image shimmering.
“Was I just talking to your mom, Jenna? Or do you prefer
Jennifer?”
Jenna, the girl said , nodding.
The pain lancing through Morgan’s head became harsher,
threatening to make her pass out. Refusing to cave in to pain, she took it,
used it.
“You weren’t a runaway, were you?”
No. I only wanted to meet a boy. I’d never been on a
date. He understood me.
“Was I talking to your mom?”
Yes .
“Is there something you want me to tell her? Is she the one
you want to save?”
Cops weren’t wrong. Father’s the liar, not Erica. Mom
needs to know the truth before it’s too late.
“Do you know what happened to you or where Erica is?”
The girl shook her head, possibly unable to answer because
she didn’t understand the question or didn’t want to understand. She faded some
as she turned to reveal a deep crimson gash in the back of her head.
Blood rained down Jenna’s back, covering her, covering
everything it had touched.
Morgan feared she’d be ill for days after this, but it was
well worth the sacrifice if she could help
thought she’d come for Ethan. Now I think she was there for you.”
“My Jennifer is dead! Some sicko tried to sell her in an
online auction. When the police tracked him down, he killed them all, all those
girls! The only saving grace is that vice detectives apprehended Terrence Mills
and evidence at the scene helped put him away for life.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s a relief to
know the bastard got what was coming to him.”
“Obviously your headache is causing you to say such
outlandish things.”
“It’s not my headache, ma’am. I saw Jennifer. She had long
dyed black hair set in pigtails, dressed in Goth clothing and looked much like
you, very pretty, with kind eyes and intelligence.”
Alisa raised her eyes. Her sadness had been replaced with
self-loathing. Drawing back, Morgan felt the onslaught of negativity and guilt.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mrs. Bailey.”
“If I hadn’t hired that witch Erica White, my daughter would
have been found alive. Detectives Maddox and Riley wouldn’t have focused so
hard on my husband, my husband, as the primary suspect in her
disappearance. They’d have found Terrence Mills before it was too late!”
“Where is Erica now? I could talk to her for you.”
“I hope to God she’s dead somewhere in a ditch for all the
pain she’s caused me and my family. Excuse me…”
Alisa Bailey’s voice trailed off and she left. It wasn’t
until after the door closed that Morgan felt goose bumps shiver over her skin.
The room’s warmth had been invaded with a coolness that couldn’t be mistaken.
Even though no one else was in the bathroom, she wasn’t
alone. Sharp pain sliced through her skull, creating the headache she’d known
would come if she continued to use her gifts.
The lights flickered rapidly, adding to the discomfort. Time
stood still.
Reaching out to God to be certain she wasn’t communicating
with something other than Jenna, she remained very still, listening and
praying. The most frightening thing about talking to the dead was the ability
for evil to mask itself as something innocent.
Children were frequently the devil’s greatest trick. When
she felt protected by God’s goodness, she opened herself further to Jennifer.
“Jenna, if you’re her, please show yourself. Use me if you
must.” She turned on her digital voice recorder by rote as a vague impression
of a girl slowly manifested in front of the door where Alisa had gone through.
Just as she’d seen last Saturday night, Jenna presented
herself in her favorite clothing, combat boots, a lot of black, a dog collar
and dyed black hair set in pigtails. This was what she’d been wearing when she
died.
“See this device in my hand? You can talk to me and others
will hear you. Let them hear you. Nod your head if you understand.”
The teenager inclined her head, her image shimmering.
“Was I just talking to your mom, Jenna? Or do you prefer
Jennifer?”
Jenna, the girl said , nodding.
The pain lancing through Morgan’s head became harsher,
threatening to make her pass out. Refusing to cave in to pain, she took it,
used it.
“You weren’t a runaway, were you?”
No. I only wanted to meet a boy. I’d never been on a
date. He understood me.
“Was I talking to your mom?”
Yes .
“Is there something you want me to tell her? Is she the one
you want to save?”
Cops weren’t wrong. Father’s the liar, not Erica. Mom
needs to know the truth before it’s too late.
“Do you know what happened to you or where Erica is?”
The girl shook her head, possibly unable to answer because
she didn’t understand the question or didn’t want to understand. She faded some
as she turned to reveal a deep crimson gash in the back of her head.
Blood rained down Jenna’s back, covering her, covering
everything it had touched.
Morgan feared she’d be ill for days after this, but it was
well worth the sacrifice if she could help
Similar Books
