They say the body keeps the score. But in Sarah’s case, the fragment wasn’t missing a trick.
The moment Sarah’s spirit left her body, her physical expression had gone blank. Guess that was one way to unburdenyourself from a painful memory. Or so I thought…until it reached for a box-cutter.
Boswell made an “ack” noise and backed into a cardboard display of packing tape.
“Just put down the knife,” Jacob said, very reasonably, “and we can talk about whatever’s bothering you.” He’d left his sidearm holstered, but was easing a zip tie from his pocket.
The body ignored him and picked open the plastic bubble holding the blade to the hangtag with her freshly-clipped nail. It was a cheap disposable tool with a plastic handle and a blade that was scored to snap off a fresh section each time it dulled. Those things went dull after just a couple of uses. But this one was right out of the box.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jacob said urgently. “Whatever help you need, we’re here for you.”
I circled around to disarm her. I’d been trained for this, so I knew right where to focus, and exactly where to grab. Time didn’t really slow, but it felt that way to me as adrenaline dumped into my system and sharpened my senses. It would take a very precise timing, but I was in flow, and all I had to do—
A jolt.
My heart lurched as I saw with stunning certainty that I’d misread everything. I was so sure I was not only a seasoned cop, but the biggest, baddest medium known to man, that I forgot one basic thing: ghosts are scary. Horror squeezed at my innards and crumpled me all up, and I thought I might never inhale again. And then I realized…it wasn’t even my fear.
It was Sarah’s.
And she was trying to get in my skin.
White light blasted through my crown chakra and I shoved her right back out.
I felt the fear leave me like I’d shed a coat of fire ants. This was what she’d left behind in the bedroom? Maybe shehadbeen better off without it. Meanwhile, here in the drugstore aisle, her body grabbed a hank of its own hair and started sawing at it with the box cutter.
“What’s going on?” Jacob snapped—because my back had arched like I’d stuck a fork in a socket—and I let out a puff of frigid air that curled in the sickly green fluorescent drugstore light. “I’m fine,” I snapped, then whacked the boxcutter out of the body’s hand.
The body huffed and grabbed another one off the display.
“Somebody do something!” the ghost wailed.
Boswell tilted his head. “Now, I definitely heard a voice. Is this Walgreens haunted, too?”
Too late, I realized he should have kept his mouth shut. Or, better yet, he should have stayed in his van and worked on his tinfoil hat. Because while Jacob was busy trying to disarm Sarah’s body without taking a boxcutter to the face, and I was tripping on white light, the focus of Sarah’s ghost landed squarely on him.
She stuck out her etheric tongue at me and hopped inside.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I’LL NEVER GET used to the sight of a possession. It’s like a bad special effect in a low-budget horror flick, back before they did everything on computers, when they would cut to someone and think we wouldn’t notice the actor turning into claymation for a few frames. Boswell almost looked like he’d joined a breakdance flash mob as Sarah stretched her limbs into his. But then he straightened up, gave his head a shake, and dove at Sarah’s body.
“Stop right there!” Jesus Christ. The rent-a-cop.
I pulled out my federal ID and told the guy, “We’ve got this.” But now I could hardly tell Jacob who was who. Using Boswell’s body, Sarah made a dive for her own…though it looked more like Boswell was giving Sarah an awkward and completely unwanted hug.
Security didn’t even glance at my ID. Instead, the guy pulled a stun gun and made for Boswell. “Step away from that woman,” he called out. I caught a slight wobble in his voice—he was just as freaked out as Sarah. But he was determined to do The Right Thing.
“Stand down,” I barked, and the guy flinched. Sarah’s body elbowed its way out of Boswell’s hug and turned to face him. The two of them started slapping ineffectively at each other like a couple of sugared-up preschoolers.
“We got this.” I shoved my ID in the guard’s face before he could taze Boswell’s body. Yeah, it was tempting to just let it happen, and maybe we’d get lucky and he’d shock Sarah’s ghost out of it. But now Jacob was pinning Boswell’s arms, since it looked to Jacob like he’d suddenly gone ballistic for no reason at all. Jacob would only hold the spirit in place—and get zapped for his efforts while he was at it.
“Jacob—” crap, how could I say it in front of the guard? “We’ll book him for possession.”
Jacob was confused…until Sarah piped up. “My hair!” It was Sarah’s whine—Boswell’s vocal cords. “Look what shedid!”
“Calm down,” he told her. Him.Them. “We’re trying to help you.”
“Whatever,” the body said—and stomped off, right past the flummoxed security guy.
