“Sometimes, my friend,” Carl’s voice was soft, “I worry for you.”
“Thanks.” Shane’s smile faded from his face. “So do I.”
Chapter 3: Whispered Ideas
Sunday, 8:00 PM
Ed White sat on his couch.
The sunglasses from the corpse were on the coffee table. Nothing else littered the table’s white top. Ed had swept everything off earlier. The sunglasses occupied pride of place, and he felt himself smile as he looked at them.
As he stared, the ghost of Miriam Shaw appeared on the other side of the table, and Ed was too stunned to react.
She offered him a coy smile, her deep black hair perfectly coiffed, her lips bright red. Her blue shirt was tied at the waist, revealing the smooth skin of her stomach and the bloody entrance wound on the right side of her abdomen. She wore a pair of loose-fitting white pants stained and splattered with her own blood.
Ed knew that she wore a pair of leather sandals on her feet. Aside from her wound, which he knew had to have been a mortal one, she looked like a pinup model from the forties.
And Ed adored her.
Ed would do anything for her. His head swam when she was in the room, and he shivered, not only from the cold which seemed to engulf him, but also from the idea that she was always near him. He didn’t want anyone else. Didn’t want to be near anyone else.
I have to break it off with Cat, he thought. Get my key back from her. I just want to travel with Miriam. That’s all. Nothing else. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Miriam and I can travel the world together.
“How are you, Ed?” Her voice was sultry, and it sent a shiver through him.
He licked his lips and managed to murmur, “Good.”
Her smile broadened. She had made herself known the previous night, and he had stayed up until the early hours of the morning to speak with her. She wanted to travel. To see the world.
He wanted to help her do that.
No, he corrected himself, I need to do that. She needs it, too. That’s why I have to. Yeah. I have to.
“What have you been up to?” she asked.
“Looking,” he told her.
“At what?”
“Places to go,” he answered.
“I always wanted to travel when I was alive,” she sighed.
Ed nodded. “Your husband wouldn’t take you.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” she agreed. “Was that nice of him?”
Ed shook his head.
“Should he have taken me where I wanted to go?”
“Of course,” Ed stated.
“Of course.” Miriam smiled, but it was soon replaced with a mournful expression. “I wish I could travel now, but I’m stuck to those sunglasses.”
“I was thinking about that,” Ed whispered.
“You were?” Her light blue eyes widened, and her voice was full of surprise.
“Yeah,” Ed’s voice became louder. “I could empty my bank account and take you on a trip. I’ve got some vacation time saved up. Where do you want to go?”
“Oh, just about anywhere would be wonderful, as long as I’m with you, Ed,” Miriam sighed. “You wouldn’t let anyone get in between us, right?”
“No,” he assured her. “Never, never. You think you might want to go to Canada first?”
Before she could respond, there was the rattle of a key in the door lock, and Miriam vanished. Anger surged through Ed as he got to his feet.
The door to the apartment opened, and Cat Sylvia, his girlfriend, came in. Her greeting died on her lips as she saw his expression.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she demanded, closing the door with her foot and setting a bag of groceries down on the counter.
“Nothing,” he sulked, dropping down to the couch.
Frowning, she stepped closer and saw the mess he had made on the floor. The remote controls, the magazines, all were in a haphazard pile. Then, her eyes moved to the coffee table and settled on the sunglasses.
“Those are awesome!” she exclaimed, seeming to forget about his odd behavior and the mess on the floor. Cat took a step forward.
“Don’t touch them!” Ed snapped.
Cat jerked her hand back.
“What?” she demanded.
“You heard me,” he scowled, “don’t touch the damned sunglasses.”
“You didn’t get those for me?” she asked.
“No.”
“So, you’re going to wear women’s sunglasses? Retro women’s sunglasses?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Going to keep them safe. Take them on the road with me.”
She looked at him, confused. “Honestly, Ed, I have no idea about what you’re saying.”
“What I’m saying is that you can’t touch them,” he snarled, getting to his feet.
Cat flinched and glanced around as if looking for something or someone, a confused look crossing her face. Then she stopped suddenly and tilted her head to the side, her eyes widening as she listened. Ed heard a soft whisper. He didn’t know what was said, and he didn’t care.
“I want you to go,” he told her.
Cat laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “No. Not without the sunglasses. You don’t get to play with women’s sunglasses.”
The lights in the apartment flickered, but neither Ed nor Cat made any comment. Nor did either seem to notice when the temperature in the room dropped.
“I’m leaving,” Cat whispered, taking a small step toward the coffee table, “and I’m taking Miriam’s sunglasses with me.”
“How do you know her name?!”
“She told me!” Cat shouted, and she reached for the sunglasses.
Ed jumped forward and drove his fist into Cat’s face with all the strength he could muster. The force of the blow sent her spinning in a half-circle as he lowered his hand, ignoring the throbbing pain of fingers and bones he was certain were broken.
She struck the floor hard, blood pouring out of her nose. Her left eye was already swelling as she tried to get to her hands and knees. Ed straddled her and punched her again, the second blow catching her at the base of her skull, where it joined her neck. The impact drove her back to the floor, her arms and legs splayed out. With a howl of rage, he dropped onto her back and wrapped his hands around her throat, squeezing as hard as he could.
***
Officer Gary Ledoux kept a neutral expression on his face while Officer Yola Zapata dealt with the resident who had called to complain that his wife kept letting the cat eat his basil.
“I understand you’re upset—” Yola began, but a sharp howl interrupted her.
The resident scowled. “Damned guy upstairs. Told him no dogs were allowed.”
“What number?!” Yola asked.
“What?” the resident asked.
“Apartment!”
“Um, B2,” the man stuttered.
Gary and Yola broke into a run as she called it in. They both were familiar with what a dog sounded like, and the howl they had heard didn’t belong to an animal.
At least not the four-legged kind, Gary thought. They reached the door to the stairwell, and he slammed it open. The pair raced up the steps, and Gary tore the door to the hallway open, Yola sprinting past him. A shriek rang out, and several other residents peeked out of their apartments.