Incorporeal Read online

  “Oh.” Sara shook her head, trying to hold onto a clear thought. What did he say? I passed out for a reason? Aside from the obvious, I mean? “Oh,” she repeated. “Why did I faint?”

  “Well, I imagine stress had a great deal to do with it, but since the rest of your blood work is very normal, I’m assuming you felt lightheaded because you’re pregnant.”

  Sara stared into his eyes, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. “You didn’t just say I’m pregnant, did you?”

  “Yes, Miss Wise, that’s exactly what I said. You are pregnant.”

  “Oh my god, that’s a riot.” Sara laughed. She couldn’t help it. The very idea was absurd. When she could speak again, she said, “I’m not. Doctor, what is your name? You’re as crazy as I am. I am not pregnant. It’s impossible. I can’t be pregnant.”

  “I’m Dr. Edwards, Miss Wise. Don’t you remember? We spoke extensively when you came in.”

  Sara shook her head. “Well, Dr. Edwards, I can’t be pregnant.”

  “You seem like a very healthy young woman. I imagine you’ve used birth control, but there’s no perfect form of birth control, aside from sterilization, and this blood test is about as definitive a test as we have. Of course you’ll need to follow up with an obstetrician.”

  Sara waved him off with a snort. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly understand. I cannot be pregnant. It would go against everything you know about the laws of nature. Wait, no, the laws of physics; no quantum mechanics. No, I’m wrong, all the laws of science and religion.”

  The doctor shot her a look she couldn’t mistake. He’s wondering if he should sedate me.

  “Are you telling me you can’t be pregnant because you haven’t had sexual intercourse?” he asked.

  “Hell no, Dr. Edwards, that man, that,” she sucked in a breath, “dead man lying on a slab in the coroner’s office, he’s been fucking my brains out. But, but…” Sara couldn’t finish her sentence. Burying her face in her hands, she said, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hear anymore. I can’t see anymore. I can’t think anymore. Let me go home, please, that’s all I want to do.” She raised her head and her arm. “Take this out, please, take this IV out and discharge me, or I’ll take it out myself and walk home.”

  The doctor rose to his feet. “I’ll get the nurse and we’ll arrange to discharge you, but the detective won’t let you go home. And I recommend you see an obstetrician as soon as possible. Miss Wise?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  Sara tried her best to shape her mouth into a semblance of a smile. “Thank you.” Me too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Do you want to talk about him, honey?”

  Sara kept her face turned to the wall. The bed in Dalton’s guest room was bloody uncomfortable. The hard mattress hurt her hips. “No.”

  “You know, there’s going to come a time when you’ll need to talk about him and about what happened.”

  “No there won’t.”

  “Sara,” Dalton’s voice rose. Good, she’s irritated. She’ll leave the room and I can nurse my wounds in private. “Sara, you’re having his baby for god’s sake. You’re going to have to talk about him. At the very least, you’re going to have to tell his child about him. He saved your life. He saved my life. That’s not something you can skip over.”

  Sara’s eyes filled with tears, again. Christ, how can one human being make so damn many tears? Gee, Sara, I don’t know. How can one human being die more than once? She mashed her face into the pillow, willing Dalton to go away.

  “Geri’s here. She wants to see how you’re doing.”

  Sara mumbled into the pillow. “I don’t want to see her.”

  “She says she has some news that might cheer you up, news about your books.”

  “Fuck the books.”

  “For crying out loud.” The bed shifted as Dalton rose to her feet. “I didn’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice.” She grabbed Sara by the shoulder and flipped her over. “You have been lying in this bed for ten solid days. You’ve barely spoken, eaten next to nothing. You haven’t even showered. You’re acting like a selfish pig. I almost got killed too, you know.”

  Sara stared up into Dalton’s stricken face. She saw tears fill her friend’s eyes. They spilled over her thick lashes.

  “Don’t you think I blame myself every single minute of every single day for the fact that the man you love, the father of your child, is dead?” Dalton swiped at her wet cheeks. “How do you think that feels? Could you get off your ass and give me a little support? I need a friend too, you know.”

  “Oh Dalton, come here.” Sara opened her arms and Dalton fell into them. The two cried together for a long time, buried beneath a twisted mass of wrinkled sheets and blankets.

  When at last they both lay quiet, Sara pushed the tangled hair from her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet, but even. “I have been a selfish pig. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. None of this is easy. It’s just that; oh Dalton, I don’t know how I can go on without him.”

  “You carry his child,” Dalton said, stroking Sara’s wet cheek. “You have no choice.”

  “But it doesn’t seem real,” Sara whispered, placing a hand over her belly.

  Dalton smiled. “It will be real in six months or so, if the ultra-sound is accurate.”

  Sara turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Dalton, you know when we read a love story, we always want an HEA, a Happily Ever After?”

  “Yeah?”

  She looked at her friend. “The publisher I met with that night, the night that started this all, well, she was right. There is no HEA when the hero’s a ghost.”

  Dalton rose up on an elbow. She leaned over Sara, covering Sara’s hand with her own. “Oh no, Sara, this is far more than an HEA, this is a miracle. He’s given you a miracle. Don’t you see it? Nathan, your beloved five hundred year old ghost, will live on through this child. He gets to live again, but this time, no Inquisitors will come. Nobody is going to harm his child. Can’t you see that? Are you blind to the gift you’ve been given?”

  Sara chewed on her lower lip. “Nathan always said I was the gift, but I thought he was. That’s what his name means, you know, God has given.” Sara smiled through her tears. “I should never have told you the truth. Now I won’t hear the end of it. I didn’t expect you to believe me.”

  “Are you kidding?” Dalton teased. “I always knew there was something weird about you. The fact that you can see and hear ghosts comes as no great shock. I have read your manuscripts, remember?”

  “Seeing and hearing ghosts are very different than falling in love with one.”

  A dreamy expression came over Dalton’s face. “I don’t think Nathan was a ghost.”

  Sara sat up, scooting back to rest against the headboard. “He had to be a ghost. What else could he have been?”

  Dalton shrugged. “I don’t know. What did he think he was?”

  “He couldn’t explain his existence any better than you can.”

  “I think when you’re dealing with the numinous,” Dalton reached over to tuck a thick strand of hair behind Sara’s ear, “there are no hard and fast explanations. This baby is a miracle and you are this miracle baby’s mommy. Maybe it’s time you started to act like it.”

  ***

  “Thank you for coming.” Sara shook Detective Flannery’s hand. “I’m afraid there aren’t many of us.”

  Sara, her friends Dalton and Geri, and Detective Flannery, stood in the rain, watching as Nathan’s simple pine casket was lowered into the muddy ground.

  “You’re welcome,” the detective said. “It’s good of you to do this for him.”

  Sara looked up. The cold rain struck her full in the face, but she didn’t mind. The only reason she was here to feel the rain was because of Nathan. The dignity of a decent burial was the least she could do for him, rain or shine.

  He hadn’t been given that
before. He’d said he couldn’t remember his death, but Sara had spent many sleepless nights, imagining his ravaged body thrown into a pauper’s unmarked grave. She shuddered. Yes, this was the least she could do. In accordance with Jewish law, in a year she’d have a stone set and she could bring his child to visit the grave. Not just his child, Sara, your child too. The two of you made this baby.

  Sara’s hand went to her belly. She found herself doing that a lot lately. After initially losing weight, she was beginning to show. Only last week, she’d heard the heartbeat. Dalton had accompanied her on that visit. The next visit she’d go on her own. She needed to be strong, to honor Nathan’s memory, strong for this child.

  “I’m sorry it took so long to release the body, but we had to be certain there were no next of kin.”

  “It’s all right, detective. His release was out of your control.” As his death was out of mine. Nathan knew all along. He knew what would happen when he came to me. “I guess I’m surprised that…” Her voice broke. Detective Flannery waited for her to finish. She couldn’t. What do I say? I’m surprised he left the body behind? “Sorry. I lost my train of thought. It happens a lot these days.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” The detective patted her back. “We still don’t know where he came from. It’s odd.” He shot a glance at Sara. “Almost seems like he dropped from the sky.”

  Sara felt a corner of her mouth turn up. Oh Detective Flannery, you have no idea how right you are. “You know, Detective Flannery, sometimes I imagine the exact same thing.”

  The casket had reached the bottom and the men working the equipment pulled their poles and lifts away. Sara grabbed a shovel, stuck it in a pile of wet earth, and began to cover the casket. Detective Flannery and her two friends grabbed their own shovels and helped. When she couldn’t see any more wood, Sara stopped.

  She turned to her friends. “It’s done. You can go now.”

  Dalton took her arm. “Don’t you mean we can go now?”

  “No. I want to stay for a while. I’ll meet you back home.”

  All business, Geri took off her rain coat, shook it, and wrapped it around Sara’s shoulders. “If you’re going to stand out in the rain, at least take this.”

  “No, Geri, you need…”

  Geri interrupted her. “You need it worse.” She kissed Sara on the cheek. “We’ll see you at home. Don’t stay out here too long.”

  Dalton leaned over to kiss her other cheek. “Listen to Geri. If you’re not home in an hour, I’m sending the entire police department after you.”

  Sara hugged her friends. Geri had stood by her, solid as a rock, never uttering a single word about that awful night in San Francisco. Dalton kept her spirits up. They took turns spending nights with her. The two of them had arranged to have her home cleaned before she went back. There wasn’t a trace of blood left, but neither was there a trace of Nathan.

  Dalton had suffered some post traumatic stress too. And she’d have a thin, crescent moon-shaped scar on her neck forever, as a reminder of…Okay, enough of that.

  “Yes, I’ll be home within the hour. I promise.” She turned back toward the grave, stepping out of the way as the attendants began to fill in the hole with thick, dark, clay soil.

  “I’ve been wondering about something.”

  Sara nearly jumped out of her skin. “I thought you went to your car, detective.”

  “No, I wanted a minute to speak to you alone.”

  Sara looked up into the man’s face. His voice sounded serious, and his eyes held any number of questions. “What are you wondering about?”

  “My forensic medical examiner tells me that Nathan’s clothes were sewn by hand.”

  Sara raised her eyebrows. Where is he going with this?

  “He also tells me that the shirt was made of linen; that it was, in fact, hand-woven, with threads that were spun on a loom. Same with the trousers. He says the trousers were colored with a dye made from walnut husks. He says the linen thread is of European origin.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  “And I find it interesting that the boots he wore were tanned by hand. There’s no manufacturing label on them. The soles were handmade as well, apparently by a shoemaker who could conceivably have lived in the Fourteenth or the Fifteenth Century.” Detective Flannery fell silent.

  Sara cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to tell you, detective.”

  “You said Nathan had been living with you for months, but we didn’t find any articles of men’s clothing in your house. Do you have any explanation?”

  “No.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t think so. I’ll be in my car if you need anything. I want to make sure you get home okay.” He started to walk away.

  “It’s not necessary to wait for me, Detective Flannery.”

  His steps slowed, but he didn’t stop. “I’ll wait anyway,” he said.

  “He won’t ask any more questions. He knows he won’t get the answers he seeks.”

  Sara focused her attention in the direction of the voice. “You.”

  It was the woman, the ghost who’d appeared on the bus to Vallejo, the woman who’d given her the warning.

  Sara glanced at the men filling in Nathan’s grave. They ignored her. Probably assume I’m praying or talking to myself.

  She’d intended to honor Nathan by standing at the edge of his grave until the deep hole was entirely filled in. The ghost distracted her.

  But Sara, the woman’s presence is important. You need to find out what she has to say. Maybe it has something to do with Nathan.

  With a glance over her shoulder at Detective Flannery, Sara watched until he’d reached his car, then she walked away from the grave, moving out of earshot of the workmen. The rain would help mask her conversation with the ghost in any case.

  “He’s talking to your friends,” the ghost said, with a nod of her head in the detective’s direction. “They’re waiting for you in their car.”

  “What are they talking about?”

  “You. Me. About the fourteen bodies the detective and other police officers like him have already linked to him, bodies in three states. Here, Oregon…” the ghost waved her hand in a random direction, “Washington.”

  For a few seconds, Sara’s mind went blank with horror. At last she said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. We may not be at peace, but we feel better because of you.”

  Sara glanced into eyes so pale they could have been white. “You don’t feel better because of me. The man lying in the ground there.” she pointed at Nathan’s grave. “He did it. Nathan saved my life, my friend’s life. When you see Nathan, you should thank him.”

  “I would, but I don’t think I’ll see him.” The ghost smiled. “Heaven is a very big place and I don’t know where he resides, besides, I suspect his destiny lies elsewhere.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s dead. Dead and now he’s buried.” Sara began to cry. She was grateful for the rain. Somehow it made her feel better to know her tears could remain private. Nobody could tell she was crying. Her tears looked just like rain.

  The woman brushed a finger along Sara’s cheekbone, surprising her. The ghost’s touch felt as icy cold as Nathan’s had the afternoon he’d reached for her arm. His hand had gone right through her.

  “You love him,” she said.

  “Yes. But love isn’t always for keeps.” Sara turned away from the ghost.

  The woman laughed. “Says who? Only a fool believes that.”

  “Only a fool loves an incorporeal being, ghost. I’m that fool.” Sara wearied of the conversation. Ghosts are always long-winded and they inevitably speak in riddles. Except for Nathan. “What do you want? Why did you come here?”

  The woman rose up in the air, hovering several feet above another fresh grave. “To pass on a message.”

  Sara stared up at her. “What message?”

  “We won’t be bothering you again.”

  “Who won’t be bother
ing me again?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “Why, us, the dead. We won’t ask you for any more favors. The child you carry deserves the peace you never had.”

  Sara caught her breath. “But, I thought, I hoped…” She stared down at the muddy ground. “I hoped Nathan would come back to speak with me.”

  The woman’s smile was gentle. “As I said, heaven is a very big place. I have not seen Nathan. I believe he’s elsewhere.”

  Sara closed her eyes and swallowed, hard. She opened them, hoping the ghost hadn’t disappeared. The woman watched her.

  “Elsewhere? Tell me where and I’ll find him.”

  The ghost merely shook her head. “I’m here to say goodbye, nothing more.” She began to fade from Sara’s sight.

  Sara reached out a hand to the incorporeal spirit. “Wait. Wait. I have some questions for you.”

  The woman was a faint shimmer in the air, but Sara could still hear her. “What?” she asked.

  “Who is Chester?”

  “Why, he’s a Guardian, of course,” she answered.

  “And he, oh god, I don’t know how to ask this.” Sara’s knees began to shake. “Is he my father?”

  For an instant, the ghost became so visible, so corporeal, and moved so close to her that Sara swore she was a living, breathing woman.

  “Of course,” she said. “Who else would he be?” With those words, the ghost vanished.

  Oh no, I didn’t even thank her. “Wait,” Sara called, “I didn’t thank you for warning me. Wait.” It was too late. She’d gone.

  Sara dropped down onto a wet stone slab. She wrapped her arms about her knees, not caring that her new black dress was soaked through.

  Oh boy. This is a lot to deal with on top of everything else. My father is a Guardian, whatever that is. Nathan is a corporeal/incorporeal ghost with a destiny. No more messages to deliver from the restless dead. The opportunity to raise my child in peace, to give my baby the life I never had.