Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (12 page)

BOOK: Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3)
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Thanks to the snow, finding Allison’s grave would
have been quite a chore if it weren’t for my excellent memory.
I remembered passing a stone marked “Cornell” just before I
found Garnet’s that day. Lining myself up in the same
direction I was in when I found it, I pulled on my glove and
started brushing away the snow until it became visible.

“Ruby! How did you know she was there?” Rachel
asked, in obvious awe of my powers. “Could you feel her
presence?”

So I did what any friend would do—I played along and
let her think she was right. “I feel something,” I said, placing
my
hand
on
my
forehead
like
some
cheesy
carnival
fortuneteller. “I feel….” I trailed off to build the suspense. It
worked, too.
Rachel stood there wide eyed and entranced by
my every word.

“What? What do you feel?” Rachel stomped her foot
in the snow impatiently.

When I felt satisfied that I’d tortured her for long
enough, I let her off the hook. “I feel,” I said with one last
dramatic pause, “that you’re totally gullible!”

I cracked up laughing and explained how I found her
gravesite so quickly. Rachel responded by smashing a handful
of snow on the top of my head. “That was sooo not funny!”
she said but started laughing, too.

“I know—but I couldn’t resist! Sorry!”

 

Rachel was still smiling but gave me a stern mom look
and replied, “Are you done playing around now?”

I did my best to stifle the laughter. “I am. I am.” I
scrunched my
face up
in
a cartoonish attempt to look
anything but amused. “See this?” I pointed out, “This is my
serious face.”

“Whatever,” she said laughing. “Do you see Allison
anywhere?”
Rachel scanned the cemetery like she thought
she would see her, too.

I saw something—or rather
someone
—but it wasn’t
Allison. It was Clay.
He was dressed in the same clothes I
always saw him in. Even though I knew he couldn’t feel the
cold, I was tempted to offer him my jacket. As he stepped up
next to Rachel, I was surprised at just how alive he looked.

Looking
back now, Garnet looked and
acted
so
strangely that I should have known she was a ghost.
But
Clay—Clay was a different story altogether. Now that I knew
he was dead, it explained the odd feeling I got when he was
around.
Once I got used to that sensation, I could look past it
and see that he wasn’t so creepy after all. In fact, all I really
got from him now was a sense of loss.

“Congratulations, Ruby!” he said with a smile. “You’ve
figured out my secret!”

“Yeah, I guess you’ve figured out mine then, too.”
Weird. I felt like I was talking to an old friend yet I hardly
knew him.

“What did you say?” Rachel stopped scanning the
horizon and turned her attention back to me.

He felt so alive to me by now that I actually forgot she
couldn’t see him. Now came the awkward part. How do you
introduce your friend to someone invisible, someone dead?
“It’s not Allison but we’re not alone.”

Rachel, startled, took a step backward. “Where is it?”
Her eyes darted back and forth in search of something she
would never be able to see.

“It? She called me
it
!” Clay exclaimed with mock tones
of offense.

I wished I’d known Clay while he was still alive. He
had a good sense of humor despite the whole being dead
thing. “Rachel, this is Clay Roseman—he’s standing about two
feet to your left.”

Rachel took about two more steps to her right and
squinted in his general direction. “Clay Roseman? The Clay
Roseman I went to elementary
school with?
The Clay
Roseman who drowned in Silver Lake last spring?”

I looked at Clay and he answered her question. “How
many Clay Rosemans does she think there are? Of course it’s
me.”
Again, I liked his style. Laughing, I told Rachel, “Yes—
that
Clay Roseman.”

“What does he look like? Does he look all dead and
gross and stuff?” She wasn’t trying to be disrespectful but any
other ghost would have probably been offended.
But not this
one.

“Go ahead, Ruby—tell her how hot I look!” he said
running his hand through his shoulder length dirty blond hair.
“Ask her if she remembers me kissing her by the monkey bars
in third grade?”

You know, he actually
was
pretty cute—in a bad boy
biker kind of way.
He was no Norse god, of course, but
enough to turn any girl’s head if she was in the mood for a
little rebellious fun. But I wasn’t about to tell
him
that. “He
looks normal, he looks alive.
And he wants to know if you
remember when he kissed you.”

She looked confused at first but that look turned to
complete recognition within seconds. “I do—he was my first
kiss! Boone liked me even way back then. He got sooo pissed
at Clay!”

Clay smiled and whispered to me, “I took a good
punch to the stomach over that kiss but it was worth it.”

“Why are you whispering? It’s not like she can hear
you or anything.” I reminded him. Sometimes boys made
absolutely no sense—not even dead ones.

“What did he say, Ruby?” Rachel asked excitedly,
moving closer to where Clay stood. “Where exactly is he?”
She extended her arm in his general direction, just missing his
chest by less than an inch. “Can I touch him?”

“Wow! If death was all it took to get Rachel Mason to
want to touch me, I might have been tempted to off myself a
long time ago!” Clay inched closer to her until her hand was
touching his chest.

“OMG—he’s
so
cold!”

 

“Damn girl—you’re burning
up
!”

I stood there watching them and couldn’t help but
laugh. Why couldn’t all ghosts be like Clay? I mean, he talked
to me instead of torturing me. He had a sense of humor not a
vengeful streak—I would even go so far as to say he was fun
to be around. And he might even be able to help us.

“So, Clay, do you ever see any other ghosts around
here?” I asked casually.

“Ghost is such a harsh word—I prefer to think of
myself as living impaired, he said as he backed away from
Rachel’s hand. “But, no, I don’t know anyone else like me.
Why do you ask?”

I replied, “Just looking for someone particular—that’s
all.”

 

“Does he know her, Ruby? Has he seen Allison around
anywhere?” Rachel fired her questions at me like bullets.

“No. I guess it’s time to head to the campus.” The
smile faded from Clay’s face and he lowered his eyes to the
ground at his feet. My heart sank down to my toes when I
realized why—he was lonely. “Talk to you later, Clay,” I
added happily. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad if he knew he’d
see me again. And it worked.

“Later, Ruby!” he said with a smile.

As I watched him walk away, I found myself thinking
about him and how he ended up stuck here. What tied him to
this place?
What made him unable to move on?
And most
importantly, what could I do to help him? Finding Crimson
was
priority
number one, of course, but once
that was
accomplished, maybe I
could
try to help Clay. He seemed like
a nice guy and I wanted him to find some peace. And besides,
his situation was completely different from the others.
He
drowned and
probably
just needed me to tell someone
goodbye for him. Helping Clay move on wouldn’t be
dangerous in any way. As soon as my current adventure was
dead and buried—pardon the pun—I would ask him what he
wanted me to do for him.

Marshall
College,
a
branch
campus
of
a
larger
university based out of Philadelphia, was nestled in the part
of town just beyond the business section.
There were only
about a dozen buildings total including two dorms, the library
and the student union. The rest were classrooms and a small
theater arts building. Rachel and I decided to start with the
coffee shop since that’s where Drake said Allison hung out the
most.

Whole Lotta Lattes was buzzing with activity when we
stepped inside. The place was full of college students and I
felt like I decreased in age by a year with each step I took.
Even though I was seventeen and almost in college myself,
these kids looked so much older and more mature.
Nearly
everyone had a laptop and a latte so Rachel and I decided to at
least order a drink so we wouldn’t stand out quite so much.

The boy behind the counter looked us up and down as
he made our drinks. “I haven’t seen you two in here before—
are you freshmen?”

I was about to tell him the truth—that we were, in
fact, still in high school—when Rachel spoke up.

“Yeah,” she said nonchalantly while twirling her hair
around her finger. “I’m Tori and this is my roommate, Lacey,”
she said pointing to me.

What?
I kind of understood her hesitance to admit
that we weren’t even in college yet but why the fake names?
Rachel nudged me with her elbow so I replied, “Lacey,” and
pointed at myself like a complete loser.

“Well, Lacey, I’m Jake.” He wiped his hands on his
apron before extending one for a handshake. I shook his hand
awkwardly and then took my French vanilla cappuccino from
the counter. “Lucky you—today
is
free cappuccino for
beautiful girls day.
Oh, and for their friends, too.” And he
looked straight at Rachel.

Weird. It was like a parallel universe or something.
Sure, it was only a coffee shop but it might as well have been a
bar.
I felt completely out of place, underage and like I just
used a poorly crafted fake ID. Not to mention the fact that he
was
totally
hitting
on me and
treating
Rachel
like a red
headed stepchild.
When he turned his back to grab us some
extra napkins, I shot Rachel a look of sheer panic.

“Just go with it,” she whispered.

I decided to improvise. “So, Jake,” I said deepening my
voice to try to sound more mature, “We’ve never been in here
before because we heard the place is haunted. Any truth to
that rumor?”

Rachel flashed me a thumbs up under the edge of the
counter
where Jake couldn’t see. With that confidence
booster, I relaxed a little.

Jake handed me the napkins and grinned. “This place
isn’t haunted. But don’t worry—if it was, I’d protect you.”

I willed myself not to blush but it did no good. By the
temperature spike in my cheeks, I knew I was glaring as
brightly as a stoplight. “Thanks, Jake. Are you sure it’s not
haunted, though?
This girl in my English lit class seemed
really positive that it was.” Check me out—spinning improv
like a pro!

“No, I’m sure it’s not. I close up shop alone three
nights a week. If there was anything here, I’d know it.” He
leaned over the counter toward me. “I close tonight, actually.
If you come back around nine, you can see for yourself that
I’m the only thing around here that goes bump in the night.”

And I was pretty sure the bump he had in mind was
the one behind his zipper. “Sorry, Tori and I have plans
tonight. Super-secret sorority stuff—you understand, right?”

When I mentioned the word “sorority”, his eyes lit up.
He was
probably
picturing
a roomful
of girls
in
their
underwear having pillow fights. The perv. Was that
all
guys
thought about?
All guys except for
my
guy, of course.
I
suddenly found myself wishing that Zach were a little more,
well,
normal
in that respect. Strange how what set him apart
and attracted me to him was now the one thing I wanted him
to change.

“Maybe some other night then,” he called as we
searched for an empty table. “I close again on Tuesday!”

I gave him a flirty wave as we sat down.
Rachel
started laughing so hard that tears actually formed in the
corners of her eyes.

“Damn, girl!” She pretended to wrap her hands
around an invisible Oscar, “And the Academy Award goes to
Ruby Matthews for her portrayal of Lacey, the sorority sister!”

I accepted the award gracefully as Rachel clapped
elegantly. “I would like to thank my producers, directors, and
especially my costar Rachel Mason. I couldn’t have done it
without you!”

“That was too much fun, Ruby, but we didn’t get the
answer I was hoping for.” She took a sip of her drink and
peered around the room. “I know what Jake said but do you
see anything here?”

“No—nothing.” We were running out of options and
we both knew what that meant. If we couldn’t find anything
at the campus library, that meant we would have to explore
the Bantam Theater. Thinking about the Bantam gave me the
willies so I switched topics by launching into a play by play
account of last night’s date with Zach.

“I don’t know why he distrusts Lucas so much. What’s
your opinion?”

“My opinion?” she mused. “I think you trust Lucas
too
much. I think you’re having a hard time separating him from
your memories of Lee. Zach is definitely jealous but he’s also
truly concerned for your safety. And afraid that he’s going to
lose you.”

Okay, not what I wanted to hear. What I wanted to
hear was that Zach was overreacting, that it was just a milder
form of what he went through over Ryan. It wasn’t what I
wanted to hear but I knew she was right.

“But I love Zach.” I insisted.

Rachel countered, “But you loved Lee, too, and for
many years.
Zach is
just afraid those feelings are being
resurrected by Lucas. Is he right?” She looked at me for an
answer I didn’t have. Why
didn’t
I have that answer?

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