“Ain’t this some shit.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That’s four new ghosts. Four. But not one of them seems able to see us, hear us, or communicate with us. Yet they’re here. Why?” asked Hex.
“It’s a great question,” said Luke. “They’re all very different. All seem harmless, for now.”
Julia and Noah were whispering at the table behind the men at dinner, writing down everything they’d seen and heard. AJ handed her a sheet of paper and then Julia gasped.
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?” asked Eric.
“They do have something in common. They all committed suicide. Morgan Segal died of an overdose of pain killers. Casimir Costello, a gunshot wound to the chest, self-inflicted. Edie Rose, the woman you found in the bayou was allegedly seen jumping from the Mississippi River bridge. And the woman on the animal sanctuary island? Clementine Pucci.”
“How the fuck did she put a hatchet in her back?” asked Cam.
“Much like our Casimir,” said AJ. “She literally nailed the hatchet to the wall of her husband’s work shed and pushed herself back into it.”
“Do you understand how nearly impossible that sounds?” asked Luke. “The moment her flesh touched the hatchet, she would have stopped.”
“Not if she was numb from drugs,” said AJ. “The evidence is overwhelming.” He tossed the folder on to the table for the others to see the photos and information.
“Four suicides. Okay,” nodded Eric. “Four tragic, horrible suicides. But why are they here and why aren’t they talking to us?”
“Because they can’t,” said a soothing, familiar voice. Matthew looked at them all, sadness in his eyes. “They are in a space in between, like a blurred line that they cannot see or feel. Everything is out of focus for them. Nothing feels right. For me, there is nothing more painful for me than not being able to help someone move along.”
“Why can’t they move along?” asked Cam.
“They died, by suicide, yet they have unfinished business that they immediately regretted. They cannot move forward without that being resolved.”
“Shit,” muttered Luke. “How are we supposed to figure out what was left unresolved?”
“I don’t know, son,” smiled Matthew. “But they will not leave here without our help. I think somehow they knew we could help them.”
“Grandpa, I want to help them but I have no idea where to start if they cannot communicate with me.”
“Luke, you will figure this out,” said Matthew. “You’ve all figured out things far more complex than this. All I can tell you is that when someone commits suicide, they are stuck in this place between the living and the dead.”
“What do you mean?” asked Eric.
“Most people who commit suicide are so desperate for relief from their pain, they don’t consider the things they’ve left undone for their families and friends. It’s as if their lives are still going on, but not.”
“Morgan’s unfinished paintings,” said Joseph.
“Yes,” nodded Matthew. “Perhaps.”
“We need to find out what was left undone by these people,” said Luke. He raked his hand through his hair and stared at the men, and women, around him. This might open a door to something they didn’t want opened.
“Luke, what are you thinking?” asked Ajei.
“What if we don’t help them, Grandpa? What happens to them?” he asked.
“They wander the earth with no ability to see, feel, touch, speak, or hear. All senses are lost, all memories frozen, blind to them. It is a darkness nearly as suffocating as hell itself.”
“Fuck,” muttered Adam. “Luke?”
“I know, I know. We have to help these people. Grandpa, can you tell us anything else?” he asked.
