Once upon a ghost, p.16
Once Upon a Ghost, page 16
Slowly, Rachel nodded. "We'll just have to find another solution. We're not defeated yet."
"That's my girl." An encouraging smile creased her aged face. "Don't be so quick to dismiss Francisca. She may still surprise us. And there's your book. It could sell any day now."
Rachel gave Nana a final hug. "Speaking of which, I'm due at the Rancho."
"Brenda should be here soon. You run along and give that Professor Kingston what for."
"I will," she reassured. "But I need a few things before I go." Kissing Nana's cheek, she ran into her bedroom.
She yanked open the dresser drawers and shoved clothes aside. With a cry of triumph, she pulled out a rabbit's foot key ring. Perfect! She jammed the key ring into her pocket.
Next, she opened her jewelry box. After a few minutes of diligent searching, she found a small gold wishbone earring. That made two good luck charms. But she could use more. Drastic situations required taking drastic measures. She snapped her fingers. Of course!
She left her room and hurried down the hallway and into the kitchen. There, she removed a magnet of a four leaf clover from the refrigerator door. She added the clover to the rabbit's foot and wishbone.
Finally, she returned to the living room and dug through Sneakthief's toy box. In minutes, she'd located a rubber horseshoe. With a loud squeak, it joined the other good luck charms bulging in her pocket.
She touched her necklace. "Now you've got a little help. So get busy and do your stuff. Nana's too dear to lose." That decided, there was only one wish she could pick. She had to be selfless. She had to be sensible. She closed her eyes, her grip tightening on the locket...
And made her wish.
* * *
Rachel found Zach and Kurt at the Rancho by the bell tower. They hovered over the timer, their heads close together. The timer hung in a tangled spaghetti of loose wires.
She didn't announce herself right away, instead simply watched Zach work. Powerful muscles shifted along his shoulders and arms, arms which had held her through the long night. He probed the timer, his fingers skillful, every bit as skillful as they'd been when they'd touched her. He showed such an impressive level of intensity and passion, whether toward the job at hand, or when he'd made love to her. Dear heaven, she couldn't even look at him without wanting him.
She forced herself to step forward. To speak normally. To hold the ache of need at bay. "What are you doing?" Fortunately, the question sounded normal, if a tad bit husky.
"Checking a few last details on the electrical," Zach said. He spared a moment to look at her, that single glance full of heat and want. With the same deliberation she'd shown, he forced his attention back to the job at hand. "Okay. Try this."
"Nope. Nothing."
"Now?"
"Negative. What do you think? Was I right?"
"It's possible," Zach conceded, "though a little soon to be certain. Run the test once more tomorrow. From the beginning."
"You've got it."
Zach joined Rachel and ushered her to one side. He smiled down at her, his gaze speaking the words he didn't dare utter. "How about dinner tonight? We can pick up Beulah and all go to a nice restaurant. What do you say?"
"That sounds wonderful." She longed to touch him, to caress the squared jaw, to kiss that amazing mouth. She forced herself to say it all with a teasing grin. She must have succeeded because his eyes glittered with gold and emerald flames. "But it can't be right away. They're shorthanded here, so I offered to help with the cleaning."
He raised an eyebrow. "What? No suspension?"
"To quote the powers that be, 'There are times when desperation overrides ethics.'" She shrugged. "I guess this is one of those times. I should be through in an hour."
He dropped a kiss on her nose, then another more lingering one on her mouth. Before she could sink in and take wicked advantage of him, he pulled back. "Kurt and I are leaving now, but I'll come back for you."
"I'll make sure I'm ready."
Rachel tackled her work with a will, completing her duties well within the allotted time. The final chore was to empty the vacuum cleaner bag. She carried it through the dining room, sidling close to Zach's command center in order to avoid setting off any of the cameras. A strange noise stopped her. She paused to listen. It sounded like static.
After a moment, she realized it came from Zach's command center. She turned and stared at the display. One of the graphs, the one connected to his effing whatevermeter showed a substantial variation. Her eyes widened. Francisca! It had to be.
Frantic, she looked around. Where was Zach when she needed him? Why hadn't he arrived? Okay, okay. Calm down and think. If she wanted anyone to believe her, she'd require proof. Proof, like... She turned away from the command center and took a couple step toward the center of the room, still well out of range of the cameras. She sniffed the air. Shouldn't there be an odor of gardenias? The static from Zach's machine faded and she could see it no longer displayed any sort of variation.
Rachel glared at it. Rats. Maybe Francisca had decided not to make an appearance after all.
She approached the machine again, and the static started up again while the display showed a wildly fluctuating reading. She tilted her head to one side. This didn't make a bit of sense. She took a tentative step away and the system settled down again. Then she remembered.
She plunged her hand into her pocket. The rabbit's foot and gold wishbone tumbled to the floor. With a loud squeak, the rubber horseshoe followed. Her hand closed around the four leaf clover. Of course! A magnet. Madam had planned to disrupt Zach's equipment in the cemetery just this way. She gasped. "Zach's equipment. I've goofed up his catscan magnetrayzoid!"
She stumbled backward, tripped over one of the cords and hit the ground. The vacuum cleaner bag flew from her hands and landed with a soft plop a short distance away. Dust mushroomed up in a large gray cloud. Then cameras exploded into life, the flashes momentarily blinding her.
Rachel groaned. Oh, Lord, what had she done? Zach would kill her when he found out. She inched across the floor on her hands and knees and yanked the vacuum bag into her arms, praying she wouldn't set off the cameras again. Her luck held. Still on her hands and knees, she scrambled crablike from the room.
She peered through the kitchen doorway into the dining room, heart pounding, trying to decide what to do. She'd better tell Zach the minute he arrived. If he checked his equipment, he might think...
He might think Francisca had made a visitation. She tried to remember the exact sequence of events. His magnetic deviating machine had recorded a disturbance. And then she'd dropped the vacuum cleaner bag and the cameras had gone off. So, what had they photographed? Not her. She'd been out of range. She was positive. The bag itself? Not likely. It had been too low. Which meant the cameras had taken pictures of... Of a cloud of dust.
A cloud of dust that Zach and Kurt might mistake for Francisca.
She swallowed. What should she do? If she told Zach the truth, all the scientific data he'd accumulated would be enough to debunk Francisca. If she said nothing, would it leave room for doubt? Zach could then claim that his testing was inconclusive and retreat, integrity intact. Her book deal, as well as Nana's house, would be saved.
She hugged the vacuum cleaner bag to her chest, choking on the dust that sprayed her face. She wiped her cheeks, realizing she had to choose between Nana and Zach. She closed her eyes. "There are times when desperation overrides ethics." The words returned to haunt her.
Of course, she didn't have to lie. If Zach asked about it, she'd tell him the truth. And if he didn't ask, she'd stay quiet and let Zach make his own decision. The problem would be taken out of her hands.
Not giving herself time to reconsider, she stood and ran to empty the vacuum bag. Returning to the kitchen, she located rags and polish and slipped into the dining room. Careful to stay out of camera range, she cleaned up the floor.
And all the while, guilt hung over her like a great cloud of gray dust.
* * *
Over the next two days, Rachel learned more about guilt than she cared to know. She learned how tenacious it could be. Even around Zach the feeling remained, not allowing her to eat or converse or relax. She also learned that guilt grew. Like a great, hungry beast it consumed her, feeding off her fears and worries. And she learned the destructiveness of it, how it damaged both body and soul.
The disappearance of Francisca's earrings made the guilt still harder to endure. She spent hours searching for them, without success. Her great aunt knew, Rachel finally decided. Knew she'd lost faith, that she'd given in to temptation and manipulated the experiments.
Losing the earrings took Rachel the final step toward losing all hope.
The day before Halloween, she prowled the dining room of the Rancho. She knew she must act, that she must atone by admitting to her dastardly deed. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"You're driving me nutzoid, Avery," Kurt complained from his perch on a ladder. "What's going on?"
She jumped. "I didn't do it. It wasn't me."
Zach glanced up from his report, eyeing her in amusement. "I'm relieved to hear it. But if you didn't do it, who did?"
She felt the blood drain from her face. They were on to her. They'd found out about... the incident. "Do what?" she whispered.
He shrugged. "I have no idea. You tell me."
"I can't say for sure," she answered cautiously. "But I'm positive, it wasn't me."
Zach tossed down his pencil, giving her his full attention. "Then would you care to answer Kurt's question? Because I'm curious, too."
She struggled to recall Kurt's question. In addition to everything else, guilt was interfering with her brain power. She hadn't the foggiest notion what he'd asked. "I couldn't say," seemed a safe response.
"That figures." Kurt repositioned one of the cameras. "Know something, Avery? You've turned goofy on me. Or should I say, goofier?"
Rachel sighed in relief. Goofy and goofier she could handle. What she couldn't handle much longer was the suspense. Why hadn't anyone mentioned... the incident? Any minute, she'd crack and it would all come spilling out. Then Zach would hate her and Kurt would hate her and Nana... She closed her eyes, wincing. Nana would be so hurt and disappointed.
Opening her eyes, she set her chin at a determined angle. Enough was enough. Today she'd tell Zach the truth. Today the warmth and desire would fade from his eyes and her life would end. But she'd tell him anyway. She stood in the center of the room, waiting for the inevitable—waiting for a convenient moment to bring about the inevitable.
"Okay, that's it," Zach announced. He shoved aside his papers and stood. It took every ounce of Rachel's self-control not to throw herself into his arms and plead for mercy. "I've just finished reading the final report."
"It agrees?" Kurt exclaimed.
Zach gave a slow smile. "It agrees. We can call a press conference and make the announcement."
"What agrees?" she asked in bewilderment, looking from one to the other.
Zach grabbed her around the waist, swinging her high in the air. "The report from the lab. The one that means our experiment is over." He set her on her feet and kissed her.
"Over?" she gasped, clinging to him. "How? Why?"
"We discovered the deviations a couple of days ago, but I couldn't tell you about it until I was certain. Now I'm certain. There are a few facts I can't explain scientifically. They're enough to establish reasonable doubt about Francisca's existence."
A couple of days ago? That's when... the incident... had occurred. She groaned. They'd developed the pictures of her dust cloud and thought it was Francisca. And they'd found the anomaly on the magna-whatzit verifying the ghost's appearance. She tried to smile. Instead tears welled into her eyes.
"Zach..."
He kissed her again, his touch warm and loving. "Don't you understand? Your ghost is safe, Rachel. It won't be debunked. And the evidence is strong enough there won't be questions raised any time in the near future."
She licked her lips. "What's the proof?"
"Oh, no you don't," he said. "No premature leaks. You'll hear when all the other reporters do. At the press conference. It's tomorrow at ten. On Halloween Day. Appropriate, don't you think?"
"I suppose so."
He tilted his head to one side, a bewildered frown creasing his brow. "I don't understand. This is your moment of triumph, the moment you've been waiting for. I thought you'd at least look happy."
"I'm happy. See?" She forced her mouth into a grin. "Happy." Guilt took over her facial muscles and her smile turned upside down.
"Yeah, I see," Kurt said with a snort. "And if that's happy, I'm a monkey's uncle."
"Well it is, and I am," she insisted, spoiling her claim by bursting into tears.
Zach snatched her into his arms and glared at Kurt. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"Me?" Kurt bounded off the ladder. "You've been right here with me the whole time. You know I haven't done a damn thing to her. She's been like this all day. Nothing she's said has made a bit of sense. Not a thing! At least before I could understand every third word. Now it's like she's speaking Klingon or something. Although if she really were speaking Klingon, at least I'd understand what the hell she was saying."
"Then why is she crying?"
"Damned if I know. Ask her."
"I will. And I better not hear you've been doing anything you shouldn't."
"It's not his fault!" Rachel wailed. "It's mine. I did it to myself."
Kurt turned to Zach and shrugged. "See what I mean? Her mainframe's gone offline. Backup's failed. I'd say she's lost more than half her chips."
"Shut up, Morris." He studied Rachel in concern. "Calm down, sweetheart. What did you do? You're not making any sense."
"And how," Kurt muttered.
"Morris!"
"You don't think I can take a hint? I can take a hint. Watch me take a hint," he said, and scooted out the door.
She pulled free of Zach's embrace. "You have to call off the press conference. Your proof is wrong. Francisca didn't cause your equipment to malfunction."
"How do you know that?" he demanded.
She couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't see the disgust and loathing he'd surely feel. She loved him. "I just know. Isn't that good enough?"
"No, it's not. We've been over the data repeatedly. We haven't made any mistakes."
She tried one last time. "Please, Zach. Please, call off the press conference."
"Not without an explanation." He reached for her. "What's going on? Why the change of heart? I thought you'd be thrilled with my news. You've fought so long and hard for this moment."
But it hadn't been a fair fight. She'd cheated. She stepped away. "I'm sorry. So sorry," she whispered. And without another word, she turned and ran from the room. Ran from Zach and the Rancho and everything most dear to her heart.
Chapter 10
The next morning at five past ten, Rachel slipped into the central courtyard. The press conference hadn't started yet and the crowd milled aimlessly about, television reporters with camcorders jockeying for the best positions.
"So you did show up," a husky voice spoke from behind.
Rachel groaned. Just what she needed to make her day perfect—her favorite sharp-eyed, acid-tongued rival reporter. "Hello, Lynette. Heard any good stories lately?"
"Some doozies. Though none as good as this. You're here to report Professor Kingston's failure to explain your ghost, I assume? Makes a perfect ending to your series of articles."
"How did you know that?" Rachel asked in astonishment.
"I didn't... until now. Thanks for the confirmation." Lynette scribbled a few lines in her notebook. "I've got to tell you. This is a first."
"A first? I don't understand."
Lynette flipped her notebook closed and did something that nearly knocked Rachel's socks off. She smiled. Nicely. "In this business you lose your innocence fast, know what I mean?"
"No."
The reporter laughed, but it was a kind sound. "No, I guess you wouldn't. I've been around a few years longer than you. I've gotten used to dirty politics and rampant crime, payoffs and kickbacks. It's a real thrill when you can report a nice, honest story for a change. Something that renews your faith and lets you believe, for a minute anyway, that miracles can happen."
Rachel stared at her, stricken. Oh, dear Lord, what had she done? Who'd have thought all this would come from one, teeny-weeny little accident with a magnet and a bag of dust? And how could she have allowed matters to get so far out of hand? Lynette, the reporter from hell, had actually used the words "honest" and "faith" and "miracles." And it was all a lie.
Rachel was out of time. She had to act and she had to act now. "Excuse me, I've got to speak to—"
The microphone squealed and she started in alarm. Zach stood at the podium, ready to make his announcement. She pushed her way through the crowded courtyard, determined to reach him in time.
"Thank you all for coming," Zach said, the sound bouncing off the adobe walls. "A while back I arrived to investigate the ghostly phenomena recorded at the Rancho. I expected to find a scientific explanation for the strange goings-on."
"Please, please, I must get up there." She fought to wriggle through the press of bodies. A few moved. Grudgingly. Others required a bit of encouragement from her elbow.
"I set up an impressive array of equipment, utilizing the talents of my assistant, Kurt Morris."
She surged forward, scrambling with an agility born of fear. She could see the platform. Only one massive body stood between her and victory. She tapped the huge shoulder in front of her. "Excuse me, I have to get through."
"Forget it, lady," said the large cameraman, clutching the camcorder on his shoulder. "I have the perfect angle and I'm not moving."
She used her emergency backup and clipped him with her elbow. Her blow bounced off his waist and sent her flying. He didn't budge. He didn't even appear to notice she'd touched him. She glared. The man must have a hide as thick as a rhino's.
