If Onions Could Spring Leeks (24 page)

Answers. Did they help?

Actually, they did. After the dreadfulness, Elvis disappeared, and so did the others who'd been in line to purchase tickets.

But Grace, Robert, Justice, Jake/Jerome, and I remained. So did Derek, but he didn't count at the moment.

“How does a man apologize for murdering another man, particularly a good one?” Robert said as he looked at Justice.

“How does a man apologize for leaving a beautiful woman to a killer?” Justice said.

“Gentlemen, apologies are no longer necessary,” Grace said. “We have the truth.”

In fact, Grace was practically giddy, the weight of the past gone from her pretty shoulders.

“What happens now?” I said.

It seemed they were about to tell me, but Jake/Jerome jumped in. “No matter. Friends, I think you can be on your way now.”

Grace, Robert, and Justice looked at Jake/Jerome and smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, Betts,” Grace said as she moved toward me and hugged me tightly. She said into my ear, “Love is strange and doesn't understand time. You know that, don't you?”

“I'm working on it.” I looked at Jake/Jerome. I loved them both, and in such different ways. And I loved Cliff.

“Thank you, Betts,” Robert said with a smile and a nod. “This was all terribly exhausting, but it has ended well.”

“Thank you, miss. Thank you,” Justice said.

“You're all very welcome. Is this good-bye?”

But they didn't answer. They disappeared, back to wherever. I hoped it was a good place.

I turned to Jake/Jerome. As he reached for my arm, perhaps to guide me someplace, a wind rushed through the station, and blew the building away. I had a sense again that I should be falling to the ground, so I braced myself, but there was no fall, just a transition from the station to the field. It was still a nighttime version so I knew we weren't home yet.

“The bad thing that happened here, the thing I sensed was dangerous to you?” Jake/Jerome said above the wind and as he looked over my shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“It had nothing to do with Grace, Robert, Elvis, or Justice. It was about Derek. I know that now. The viciousness of his murder made him strong, Isabelle, almost too strong. His anger is overwhelming and partially directed at you because you didn't die too.”

I nodded even though I wasn't sure exactly what he meant and then turned. Derek was standing and looking down at the train tracks—at a body on the train tracks.

“Oh no,” I said. “Who is that?” I stepped toward Derek and the body as Jake/Jerome followed close behind.

The body on the tracks was Lynn. In fact, she was still alive and tied to the tracks just like Nell Fenwick of the
Dudley Do-Right
cartoon that had been a favorite of my dad's. She'd played a damsel in distress in a Broken Rope skit when she was younger. Now she really was one.

I pushed past Derek and crouched next to Lynn.

“Oh, Betts, thank heavens you're here. Untie me, please!”

“Of course,” I said as I reached for the knots on the ropes around her arms. “What's going on?”

I didn't know if she could see her son as he hovered above us, the tips of his shoes at the edge of my peripheral vision.

“He,” she looked up at Derek, “tied me here.”

I paused and looked at Jake/Jerome.

“Derek is dead,” he said to Lynn.

“Oh, I know he's dead. He's haunting me, and trying to kill me.”

Derek laughed and said, “Because she killed me.”

“What? Lynn?” I said.

“I had no choice,” she said. “Please untie me.”

It wasn't necessary to let her know right away that all of
this was a ghostly illusion, that the train whistle we just heard wasn't real. I thought she was in a pretty good spot to answer some questions.

“Why did you kill your own son?” I said, my heart hurting at the question, the idea of it.

“He was going to expose me, expose us, and I didn't want to face it. Everyone in Broken Rope would have been appalled. We would have had to leave.”

“I wouldn't have left. I would have stayed and hoped you left. You paid them, Mom. You paid them to marry me. Why didn't you just tell me?” Derek said.

Why didn't you just tell me?
Just as Gram and I had suspected, it had been Derek inside Grace that day at Lynn's. Way too much crossover for my tastes.

“Technically, I was just trying to have a grandchild or two. You were pathetic, Derek. You were never going to get a wife on your own. I had to do something. I wanted more family. I deserved to have more family.”

Derek's fists balled and anger pulled at his features. I couldn't imagine how awful it was to hear your parent call you pathetic. These two were a mess, a horrible, scary mess.

“How dare you?” he said to his mom. “How could you interfere like that?” And then he laughed, maniacally, of course. He threw his head back and the wind carried his ironic cackle. “And, it took you five wives to realize that maybe I was the one who couldn't have children? Those women took advantage of you, you fool. They took advantage of my future and the fortune I was supposed to inherit from you. You gave it to some useless women who wouldn't have known how to be good wives even if they'd wanted to.”

Words of protest rumbled in my throat, but now wasn't
the time to point out how they all thought he was a pretty awful husband.

“If you'd just accepted my help,” Lynn said, “I wouldn't have hurt you.” She looked at me. “I'm sorry I had to hit you, too, Betts. I didn't really want to hurt you either, but I had to get out of there. I'm glad you're okay. Would you please untie me now?”

“Uhm. Right,” I said.

The ghost train was closer, close enough that the glow of the light was coming into clearer focus in the distance.

I reached forward, but not hurriedly, and then something hit my back hard. I went down, face first on the ground next to the tracks. If I'd hit the tracks, I would have surely fractured bones in my face. As it was, the maneuver hurt badly enough. And I realized something. The tracks—they were no longer short and incomplete; they were whole and continuous. The ropes around Lynn's limbs were real. How had Derek done that? There was no way the train could be somehow “real,” too, was there? Jerome had said that the viciousness of his murder had made him strong. I must have been seeing evidence of just how strong.

My mind worked through this information along with the pain in my back, shoulder, and face, and Jake/Jerome's yells of protest all at once.

I saw stars for a second or two as I tried to turn my head toward Derek and Jake/Jerome. Jerome, even as a ghost, was strong, a big man who'd lived his life outdoors, doing things that required lots of physicality. Jake wasn't weak, but he was more a lover than a fighter. Derek was pushing him around easily.

I needed to get Lynn off the tracks. Maybe Jake/Jerome could distract Derek long enough.

I pulled my woozy head up and crawled the couple feet back toward Lynn.

“Hurry, Betts,” she said.

I nodded, looked toward the train light, and then did the best I could. The knots were tight. Behind me, I could hear the scuffle between Derek and Jake/Jerome. It didn't sound like one was doing better than the other, but I couldn't move my fingers quickly enough. I hoped the train wasn't real.

“Leave her alone, Betts,” I heard Derek say. “She deserves to die.”

While continuing to work the knot, I turned to see Derek being held back by his arms by Jake/Jerome. I was impressed by my friend's strength.

“I can't, Derek. I'm sorry for what happened to you, really I am, but I can't risk someone else dying. I'll tell the police what she did.”

“Hurry up, Isabelle,” Jake/Jerome said.

I turned my full attention back to Lynn and the approaching train light. A huge surge of adrenaline shot through me, and my fingers suddenly became stronger and faster. I pulled and yanked, and the ropes came loose. Lynn was finally free. She sat up and looked me directly in the eye.

“Thank you, Betts, you saved me. Thank you.”

“You're . . .” I began.

Before I could finish, though, Lynn had shoved me down onto the tracks and pinned my body with her bigger one straddling over mine, her hands pushing on my shoulders. She looked back at the train light and then at me.

“Sorry, Betts, but you just can't turn me in. I'm sorry.”

“What?” I said. I couldn't believe two things—one, that she was so ungrateful. And two, that I hadn't seen this coming.

I hoped that the train wasn't real. Lynn was real. The tracks were real. What were the chances that the train would do me harm, though?

I didn't want to find out. I squirmed and tried to move myself enough that I could get Lynn off me. I wished for more adrenaline, but fear seemed to be the overriding thing inside me now.

“Isabelle,” I heard Jake/Jerome yell. He was now being held back by Derek.

Why would Derek hold him back from helping me? I thought I understood, and decided I might be able to use the idea to my advantage. I grabbed Lynn's arms and squeezed them tightly.

“If I go, you go,” I said.

Lynn's eyes opened wide. She looked toward the train and then tried to pull herself away, but I held on with a viselike grip, hoping that we'd both get off the tracks because she didn't want to die.

The train whistle blew and I realized that I could feel its vibrations underneath my back. I could smell the steam, the burning coal. It all seemed real. And I realized with a deep and sad regret that the ghosts were always dimensional in the dark when I was in the area, even, apparently, if the dark was an apparition. So the trains were probably fully dimensional, too.

This wasn't going to end well.

At least I'd talked to Teddy.

In the next instant and when the train seemed only inches away, Lynn was propelled off me and over to the other side of the tracks, and I was lifted and pulled back in time to feel the train brush my flying ponytail but nothing else.

I landed on the ground next to Jake/Jerome, who'd somehow gotten away from Derek and had enough strength—or could ghostly possessed bodies have adrenaline, too?—to push Lynn away and pull me off.

The train passed and then disappeared and so had Derek, leaving only me, Lynn, Jake/Jerome, and the ancient moonlight to cast a glow over the empty field. I would never know if the train really would have killed me. I figured that was a good thing. I looked at Jake/Jerome.

“Good job,” I said. “Thank you. Are you still Jerome?”

“I am, Isabelle.”

There was no mistaking his tone and the way he looked
at me. I could see his gentle eyes as part of Jake's pretty blue ones. Jake loved me, but not like this.

I looked across the tracks at Lynn. She was sitting up, but it looked like she was woozy and trying to gather her senses. She'd need a doctor, but I needed a minute.

“Derek's gone?”

“Yes, he is. He made sure this trip was hard on everyone.”

“Are you going to leave Jake now?”

“Yes.”

“Any chance I'll get to see you as you?”

“There's no reason for me to stay right now, but I suppose I'll be back someday. Just don't know when or how. I would never have thought I'd jump inside other people's skin, dead or not. I sure wish I could have sensed what that Elvis fellow had done when I was in him. Sorry about that.”

I waved away the apology. “But you'll be back?”

He laughed. “I'm pretty sure. You seem to keep finding ways to get into trouble.”

I smiled. “Well, I can't miss my chance, then. Don't tell Jake.”

I leaned over and kissed him. Jake would never have kissed back on his own, but I was pleased to see that Jake was pretty good at kissing when he had some motivation, even if said motivation was an old cowboy ghost under his skin.

When I pulled back, he was still looking at me in that way.

“I'll see you later, Isabelle. I'd say to stay out of trouble, but I think I'm going to have to give up on pretending I want that. Get into a little trouble, and let me come save the day again.”

“I'll work on it.”

And then, Jake transformed back into Jake. The changes were subtle but obvious. Jake held his own shoulders a little
differently than Jerome had held them. His head wasn't quite as cocked to one side.

“You okay, Jake?” I said as I put my hand on his arm.

He looked at me a long minute. “I'm fine. I was here, too, Betts, and I want you to know that I probably have cooties now.”

I laughed—feeling the fear and knot of tension in my stomach relax. “Sorry about that.”

Jake wanted to tease me, but he only smiled, too. “Well, I suppose it's fine. I'm not telling Cliff, though. No way.”

I laughed. I thought that someday I might tell Cliff, but not today. “We should help Lynn.”

“Sure. You're probably right.”

The night turned back into day—our present day. We gathered Lynn, who was fine but confused and shaken up just enough that she didn't mind that we each held one of her arms as we took her directly to Cliff at the police station.

On the way, I explained that her very angry son would haunt her for the rest of her life if she didn't just confess to her crime. I had no idea if this was true or not, but she'd seen enough (though I would never be exactly sure what she saw because I never asked) to know that she didn't want to deal with Derek forever. Sadly, I got the impression that she hadn't ever wanted to deal with him when he was alive either.

It was good that she listened to me and confessed, because the explanation for how Jake and I knew she was guilty would have been impossible to share. As it was, Cliff wondered why Jake and I both looked so disheveled. I just shrugged, and Jake told Cliff he'd been busy fighting off my amorous advances. Cliff and I laughed. Jake just gave me one of his ever-patient eye
rolls.