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Authors: Debra Glass

BOOK: Gatekeeper
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She got as far as the hallway before she slammed into the solid wall of the ghost’s chest.

Jillian retreated. Her heart raced. The ghost pursued and seized her hand in his before she could throw the damned button across the hall.

She wanted to scream but she wasn’t capable of uttering a sound. Every muscle in her body tightened until she thought she would explode. God, he was so close—and so solid! She was shocked at how utterly unyielding he was. She twisted against him.

“Wait,” he said. “Jillian, stop this. Stop. I won’t hurt you.”

Her back flattened against the wall and he was against her from head to toe, his hand firmly secured around her fist, one of his knees between hers, his broad shoulders preventing her from escape. Contact with the full length of his body sent shivers down her spine. She thrashed wildly but his other hand caught her chin and held her still. The scent of well-worn wool mingled with the woody redolence of fallen leaves and earth filled her nostrils. Terror rendered her incoherent. All she could do was stand perfectly still and retreat to someplace within.

“Jillian,” he said again. His voice was quiet but commanding, drawing her back out, making her all too aware of his rock-solid proximity.

She dared to look into his eyes. It was a mistake.

Fear of what he might do next engulfed her. His touch was intense but ethereal, more of a firmly concentrated energy than an actual physical contact. Adrenaline set her whole body on fire. She was sweating. Somehow, she had to free herself but his hold on her was too strong, too intense.

“I would never hurt you,” he reiterated.

Some sort of whimper escaped her lips. “Let me go.”

“Promise me you’ll keep the button.”

She merely shook her head. Instinct told her to fight, to flee, but fear rendered her immobile.

“Jillian, promise me. Promise me and I will help you find your sister.”

“You can’t help me. You’re dead.” Even uttering the words caused the panic to rise once again. She knew her horror was obvious to him.

His steely gaze pierced hers, searching. She looked away. He expelled a breath which she actually felt on her cheeks. “I need you, Jillian.”

Her gaze slammed into his once more. She stared.

“Your sister needs you.” He brought the fist that still clasped the button up to his chest. His voice was insistent, almost pleading. “Your sister understood something about this button that I do not. She understood why it has held me here all these years.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Her voice rose with hysteria.

His hand smoothed back the hair at her temple. It was a caress which was incongruously gentle in comparison to the vise grip around her wrist. “You’re more like her than you know.”

Jillian felt sick. Her knees would have buckled if he had not been holding her up.

He went on, his drawl thick and sweet. “You cannot imagine what my existence is like.”

“I don’t want to.” Why wouldn’t he let her go?

A self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I would never presume to weary you with the details of it but there are things I can see that I could not when I was living. Things I can hear. And there is a…a power…around you, a glow. I’m not certain of its significance but it’s the same as your sister’s.”

“You’re wrong.”

His gaze scanned something above her head. She’d heard her sister discuss auras but she’d never seen one herself. Is that what he saw?

He leaned in even closer, his face only inches from her own. “No, Jillian. It is the same. I see it. And you two are apparently the only ones who can see or hear me.” His fingers trailed down her neck. Her heart skipped a beat. This time, it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he was the ghost of a man who’d been dead for one hundred and fifty years. She chanced a glance into his eyes.

“I can also see that whoever attacked your sister—intends to kill you too.”

Jillian froze. Her confused mind tried to comprehend what he was saying. “You’re lying.”

“I have no reason to lie to you.” His voice was but a whisper.

Who would want her dead? And he’d used the word
too
. Did that mean Amy was already dead?

“How can you see that?”

His eyes darkened. He was grim. “I see shadows around you. Dark things with red eyes. Bad things.”

Jillian swallowed. The evil beings from her nightmare surfaced in her mind.

“You’ve seen them too, haven’t you?”

Impatience set her nerves on fire. “Yes. Yes, I’ve seen them.”

He drew in a slow soft breath. “I couldn’t save your sister from harm but I can keep you safe from the soul collectors—if you will allow it.”

Her lips parted to ask him what a soul collector was but he silenced her with a finger to her mouth. “Will you?” His own masculine taste fused with the metallic tang of gunpowder.

She nodded uncertainly.

“Close your eyes.” His drawl was low but Jillian could not mistake the implied command. Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks.

“Do you see your sister?” His lips brushed her ear.

Jillian sucked in a breath. Her whole body tensed. “No.”

“Look harder.”

She squeezed her eyelids tighter and tried to forget the too-intimate proximity of this ghost. Was he telling her she could see her sister? That she could find her this way? She knew it was possible.

And then like a movie playing in her head, she saw her.

Chapter Three

 

Duct tape covered Amy’s mouth. Her arms were bound behind her back. Her honey blonde hair was strewn across her tearstained face.
Jillian’s perception panned back. Damp, dark earth. An air tube. A cemetery. Amy had been buried alive! A whimper escaped Jillian’s throat. Something above her caught her attention. The shadow beings. They were coming for her. And she knew they came because she had opened up to their world. They would always come. Every time she attempted to use her psychic ability they would come. She screamed and suddenly, the ghost was there in front of her, fighting them, driving them away…

Jillian’s eyes snapped open and her gaze slammed into the ghost’s. She was trembling. The crazy images were still swirling in her head, the foremost, the ghost fighting the creatures to protect
her
.

“Where’s your sister?” he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“She’s been buried alive.”

But as she searched the ghost’s gray eyes her thoughts were still fixed on how he’d fought off the things he’d called soul collectors. He was her only hope in finding Amy. She had to have his protection in order to use her ability. “I’ve got to find her. I’ve got to find her now. Can you help me?”

Something bleak and hopeless sparked in his gaze but he gave her a nod. “And then will you help me?”

Jillian searched his eyes. Something sincere lurked in the dove gray depths. He could help her. He
would
help her. She inhaled. She had to do this. She had to use her psychic ability to find her sister. She was certain of it now. She didn’t know how she knew. It was just a feeling. A
knowing
. It was something she had not felt since she’d turned her back on her ability.

It was a psychic hit.

But how could she ever muster the strength to do it? To reenter the netherworld where the line between the dead and the living was indistinguishable? And although she was certain the ghost would keep the evil beings at bay while she used her ability to find her sister, she turned her head away from him and shut her eyes tightly. “I’ll help you find the Light. Just let me go. Please.”

The sudden absence of his unyielding body against hers left her with a strange indefinable feeling inside. Stunned, she sank down the wall until her backside found the carpeted floor.

Something touched her hand and she jolted, only to discover it was Boo’s little black wet nose. Still clutching the bronze button, she gathered the dog into her arms and squeezed her.

She had to remain coherent. This could all be solved logically. But the ghost’s gray gaze and lazy drawl lingered in the forefront of her mind. She had seen what had happened to Amy. But the ghost had seen something in Jillian’s own aura. A warning.

She opened her palm and stared at the button. What was it about the thing that tied the ghost to it? What had Amy known? And how was the ghost linked to her disappearance?

Every second was crucial. She had to get up. She had to shake off her fear of ghosts and call him back. And she had to accept her repressed psychic ability. Not only was Amy’s life at stake, hers was as well.

Clutching Boo, she pushed herself up and dropped the button back into her pocket. On shaky legs, she rushed toward the front door.

When she flung it open, a scream tore from her throat.

There, fixed to the red paint with silver duct tape, was a hank of Amy’s long blonde hair.

* * * * *

 

Jillian still had not put Boo down when Theo wheeled his blue and white police cruiser into Amy’s driveway. Breathless, she met him as he opened his car door. “There, on the front door…” She swiped at tears with her free hand. “Amy’s hair. Oh God, Theo. I was in the house when…”

Theo enveloped her in a one-armed hug while his gaze scanned the area. “The others are on their way. We’re going to dust the area for prints. This may be a good thing, Jillian. This time, he may have left us a clue.”

Jillian sniffed. She had to pull herself together but the horrifying sight of her sister’s hair taped to the door after her creepy encounter with the ghost had left her in a state of shock.

A cold, drizzling rain had started to fall but Jillian had not gone back inside the house. Her clothes were drenched. Her crocodile shoes were scratched and muddy. Boo trembled in her arms.

“Come inside,” Theo coaxed.

Shaking, Jillian allowed him to lead her back into the house. She deliberately kept her gaze away from the lock of hair but then the sight of the Ouija board and card table sparked new horrors in her as he guided her to the crimson velvet sofa. Boo jumped down and darted into the kitchen.

“I think she’s been buried alive. Why would someone do this?” she asked. “Why would someone take Amy?” Her gaze searched Theo’s.

“What makes you think that?”

Jillian froze. She couldn’t tell Theo what happened. He’d never believe her. “I don’t know. I just do. I think she’s in a cemetery. There’s an air tube…”

He sighed. “Jillian, it was a mistake to call you in on this case.”

Jillian racked her brain. She had to stay close. She had to stay involved. Theo couldn’t take her off. She was panicking and on the verge of being out of control.
Breathe. Breathe.
“What if we bring my partner in?”

“Lynn?”

Jillian nodded. Lynn Bowers would be close enough to keep her informed but distanced enough to profile the perp.

Theo appeared to be thinking it over. Some semblance of composure returned. She took another large gulp of air and blew it out slowly.

He scratched his bald head. “I don’t know, Jill. She’s never worked with us before.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s not qualified,” she argued.

“I don’t know. Howard Walters is our backup guy.”

She was at the end of her rope. She had to confess about encountering the ghost. “Theo, I can do this. I have information that might help. And I’m comfortable with Lynn.” She continued, forcing herself to slow down, to sound like the professional she was. “I have a witness to Amy’s abduction.”

Deep furrows creased his brow. “A witness?”

She nodded. “Yes. He’s not a…conventional witness. But he did see what happened.”

Theo looked skeptical.

Jillian produced the button from her pocket.

His mouth fell open. “That’s evidence.” He pointed at the button. “Jillian, tell me you did not take evidence from a crime scene!”

She stammered. “I…I… You don’t understand.”

His hands found his hips. “I can’t believe this! Why would you hinder an investigation by taking evidence? You know better than this.” He glanced out the gauzy drapes, watching as police cars began pulling up. “Did anyone else see you take this?”

She shook her head. “No. Wait. Let me explain.”

His eyes got big. “You better start fast.”

“I think this button may have belonged to a Civil War soldier. Amy was…well…” This was going to sound ridiculous and Jillian knew it. “She was sending him to the Light. It’s a thing she does and—”

“I know what it is. I’ve seen
Ghost Whisperer
.” His tone was derisive.

“When I was looking at the evidence earlier, I picked up this button and all these crazy images started coming to me. It was like I was inside Amy’s body.”

Theo’s raised eyebrow sparked desperation. Jillian jabbered on, her words fast and clipped. “I could see her hands. Her clothes. It was her, Theo. I know it. And I…I could see a man. A Civil War soldier. And…”

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