Page 2 of Ghost Walk
She looked closer. Well, scratch that idea. Her car wasn’t there anymore, so she wouldn’t be driving anyplace. She’d parked the beige four-door in front of the bar and now a black jeep was in the space. Had someone stolen it? If they did, they must have taken the ambulance and three police cruisers, too. None of the vehicles were in sight. It was as if no one but Grace had arrived at the crime scene.
Grace found she couldn’t breathe. It was like oxygen refused to fill her lungs. She bent over at the waist, her hands braced on her knees and tried to calm down. It was alright. She would figure this out. There had to be a reason for all of it. She just needed to focus on something calming and not panic.
Her mind settled on the lush fields of her parents’ farm. Before they died, they’d owned two hundred acres of rich Virginia soil. Growing up, she’d spent her days running through the tall stalks of corn. The smell of the earth, and the vivid green of the plants, and the absolute security of her parents’ love. Nothing since had ever made her feel so safe.
Think about those peaceful green cornfields.
The music from the bar reached unbearable levels and Grace’s frantic brain seized on a target for her terror. The “singer” was screeching about chimpanzees of all things. She couldn’t deal with a song about chimpanzees. She couldn’tthinkwhen he was screaming about chimpanzees. God, if their idea of music was chimpanzees and the same two notes on an electric guitar played over and over andoveragain, they all must be drinking more than just…
Wait a second.
Chimpanzees?
Grace looked down at the band flyer which was still clutched in her hand. The words couldn’t have been clearer, even in the dim light. “Cornelius and the Monkey-Men. Appearing one night only! July third.”
Yesterday.
A slimy, hot/cold ball began to form in her stomach.
Running a hand through her drenched hair, Grace marched over to the entrance of the bar. “Hey!” She stalked up to the bouncer, who happened to be a massive guy in a GNR shirt, reading Dickens. “Is that Cornelius and the Monkey-Men in there?” She gestured to the open door and the grimy interior beyond.
Oliver Twist pointed to the marquee without looking up from his book. “That’s what the sign says. Five dollar cover, lady.”
“They were supposed to be hereyesterday, though.” She held up the flier, her hands shaking from the cold rain and her strained nerves. “See? One night only. It says so right here.”
The bouncer flicked her a bored look. “Yeah andtonight’sthe one night. You wanna see the band or not?”
Grace shook her head. “No, I don’t want to see them! Ican’tsee them. Julythirdwas the one night they played!”
“What are you high or something? ItisJuly third”
“Today’s thefourth.”
The guy was apparently used to dealing with lunatics. Rolling his eyes, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket andheld up the illuminated screen. “See?” He gestured to the date in the corner. “The third. The holiday’s tomorrow, but I guess you started celebrating a little early, huh?” He arched a brow. “Now, are you gonna pay to come inside or are ya just going home to sleep it off? ‘Cause you can’t stand here and listen to the band for free.”
Grace stared at the glowing numbers on the screen, not even processing his words. It was impossible. He must have rigged the phone with the wrong date somehow. He was trying to trick her. Trying to make herthinkit was still the night before.
Why would he do that, though?
What could his motivation possibly be? She’d never met this man before. Why would he waste his time on such a useless prank? And where had the sun gone? And her car? And the rest of the crime scene guys, police, and reporters? And there had been a rainstorm last night…
The gunshots interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
Even over the terrible, pulsating music, she heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon firing twice in quick succession. Grace’s head snapped around just in time to see a male figure fleeing the alleyway. He was running too fast for her to get a good look at him, but she still knew exactly what had happened.
“Call 911!” Grace screamed to the bouncer and raced back the way she’d come. “No!” She saw the woman’s body on the ground, precisely the way it had looked when she arrived at the crime scene two hours before. “No, no, no.” She dropped to her knees beside the victim and quickly took stock of the situation. There was nowhere to apply pressure and no way to administer aid. Grace tried, but it was hopeless. The girl had been shot twice in the face. She was dead.
Again.
It was the same woman. Grace knew it. Only her body was still warm and the blood pouring out of her was fresh. Grace couldn’t explain it, but she knew it was true.
Somehow she’d been zapped back to the time of thiswoman’s murder.
Not that she’d done her much good. The woman had been killed all over again while Grace stood five yards away. If only she’d known what was about to happen she could’ve helped the girl. Could’ve stopped this. Could’ve…
Just as suddenly as the weirdness started, it was over.
Between one blink and the next, everything went back to normal. The sun was back in the sky, the rain was gone, and Grace was surrounded by her colleagues. It was as if the universe took back its do over and just plopped Grace right back where she’d started. …Or maybe it had never happened at all. Yeah, that was it. It had been some kind of hallucination, brought on by the July heat and fumes from some leaky gas line in the neighborhood.
