The Death of Addie Gray Read online

  I try to think of something else I can ask him, but he seems so matter-of-fact about the whole thing and I'm starting to wonder if he's entirely sane.

  “Only two hours to go,” he adds with a smile. “Someone from the local PD is gonna meet us at Hedderburgh, and I promise you one thing. We will find Addie.”

  ***

  “We don't have a lock on her just yet,” Officer Murphy explains a few hours later, as she leads us away from the station and over toward her patrol car, “but we've got everyone from the department out looking for her. All three of us are part of the search.”

  “Haven't you been able to locate my phone?” I ask.

  “Unfortunately it had been discarded in a ditch.”

  “She realized we could track her,” Detective Brabham suggests. “She's a smart girl.”

  “But could she really have made it all the way out here alone?” Murphy asks, opening the door on her side of the car. “It seems a little improbable that no-one would've questioned a nine-year-old girl traveling alone.”

  “She's got a small amount of money,” I reply, “and she's good at talking to people. I'm sure she'd have come up with a convincing lie if anyone asked. Plus, I doubt she's planning very far ahead.”

  “If she truly has the manifestation of Serriah Sansome's soul in her body,” Brabham adds, “then we have to assume she'll be heading to her old home, or to somewhere else in the area that means something to her. She must have some kind of plan.”

  Murphy and I exchange a glance, before we both turn to him.

  “I said if,” he continues. “Please, keep your minds open to the possibilities. That's all I ask.”

  “We just have to find her,” I reply, getting into the back of the patrol car. “We can figure everything else out later, but first we have to get our hands on her and make sure she's safe.” I feel as if I'm on the verge of tears, but I manage to hold back. “My little girl's out there somewhere, and she's not well. I should never have let it get this far, I should have recognized the signs and got her the help she needs.” Pausing for a moment, I realize that there were plenty of moments when I could have made better choices. “I should have faced the truth, instead of burying my head in the sand.”

  “You can't blame yourself,” Brabham replies, sitting next to me and pulling the door shut.

  “I did the same thing I always do,” I mutter, before realizing that this isn't the time for self-pity. “Can we just get going? Please? We need to check the farm where Serriah Sansome grew up, and Jesophat O'Reilly's home too, and then the place where they both died, and then if we still don't have her, we need to ask around and find out if there are any other significant locations.” I pause for a moment as Murphy starts the car. “It wasn't that long ago,” I continue. “Maybe someone from the town still remembers those days. We could ask someone who knew Serriah and Jesophat.”

  “Or we could go straight to the horse's mouth,” Murphy suggests, easing the car out of the parking lot. “I've already put in some calls, and I think we can take a brief detour on our way to town.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We could ask Jesophat himself.”

  I stare at the back of her head for a moment. “I'm sorry, what?”

  “Jesophat O'Reilly didn't die of his wounds in 1975,” she continues, turning to me. “Serriah Sansome died in the barn, but Jesophat made it. Didn't you know that?”

  “Then where is he?” I ask, feeling a sense of pure panic rising in my chest.

  “Where he's been ever since. Hedderburgh County jail, serving three life sentences.”

  Serriah

  Feeling something brush against my shoulder, I turn and look back across the deserted yard.

  “Jesophat?” I call out, hoping against hope that he's trying to give me some kind of signal. “Is that you?”

  I wait, and I swear I can sense someone nearby. I know I might be losing my mind, I know I could easily start imagining his presence, but I really, truly believe I can feel him coming closer. I don't know why he's still stuck in his spirit form, when he should have been able to break through into Erica's body back at the house, but I'm not going to give up hope, not ever. Somehow I'm going to get him back into the physical world with me.

  “If you can hear me,” I continue, “I want you to know that I'm still working on it. I'm gonna figure out the problem, and we're still gonna be together, just like I promised. It's just taking a little longer, that's all. You trust me, Jesophat, don't you?”

  Again I wait, before finally turning and making my way across the muddy yard. Ahead, the old farmhouse stands dormant and empty, having clearly been abandoned long ago after the fire. I feel a wrenching, tightening sensation in my gut, but I know I have to take a look around, to see if I can work out what's holding Jesophat back. As I approach the front door, I tell myself not to worry about ghosts. Ma might still be here, and Pa and Joe might be knocking about the place as well, but none of that matters right now. All that matters is Jesophat, and getting him -

  Suddenly I spot my reflection in one of the windows, and I see that there's a figure standing right behind me. I turn, but now he's gone. Still, I definitely saw someone, and I can't help smiling as I realize with absolute certainty that Jesophat's ghost is following me. I found him in the other place and I led him back here, and soon I'll find a way to slip him through into the physical world so we can be together properly. I will not be denied my love.

  “Not long now,” I tell him. “I promise.”

  ***

  “Ma?” I call out, standing at the top of the stairs and listening for a moment. “Are you still here?”

  I wait, listening to the silence of the house, but there's nothing. After a few seconds, however, I feel something bump against my arm, and I smile as I realize that Jesophat's reminding me of his presence. He's clearly getting desperate, hoping that I'll find some way to bring him through to the physical world, but he should trust me by now. I found him in the other place, in the land beyond death, and I got him this far. I can do the rest.

  “Ma,” I continue, making my way toward the door at the far end of the corridor, “I know this is a long-shot, but I need to ask you something. You're the only person I can think of who might know the answer.”

  Pushing the door open, I look into the room. The bed is long gone, but apart from that nothing much has changed, and I shudder as I remember the last time I stood in this exact same spot. Forty years ago, with Jesophat waiting impatiently downstairs, I said goodbye to Ma, and I thought I'd never come back.

  “I need to bring Jesophat through,” I say out loud, in case she can hear me. “He's trapped somehow. I found him in the other place. His face was blurry, just like everyone's face is blurry there, but I still found him. I wasn't even sure it was him at first, Ma, but he quickly started following me and I realized... Well, who else would have followed me like that? So I know it's him, I don't have any doubt, but I need help with the last little bit.”

  I wait, but still the house is completely silent.

  “Come on, Ma,” I whisper, hoping that she'll be able to sense my presence. Even if she left the house a long time ago, her spirit might return if she knows I need her help. “Ma, if you can just talk to me, even if it's only for a few minutes, I have so many questions. Please, Ma, I've never asked you for anything before, but...”

  My voice trails off.

  A moment later, I feel Jesophat's ghost brushing against me again.

  “Just wait,” I tell him. “Be patient.”

  He bumps my other arm this time.

  “I'm working on something,” I continue, even though I'm starting to feel like I'm fresh out of ideas. “There has to be a way to bring you back.” I take a deep breath. “Please, Ma. If you're here, can't you give me some kind of a sign? Just something to show me that you're listening?”

  I wait, but the house seems so cold and empty now, it's hard to believe that there are any spirits here at all. Ma must have moved on a l
ong time ago.

  “Don't worry,” I mutter, knowing that Jesophat must still be able to hear my words. “I've got another idea. There's another place we can go to, a place I was hoping we...” I pause for a moment. “We'll go there,” I continue, turning and hurrying along the corridor and then down the stairs. “We'll go there and we'll think of something. Maybe we need to be back in the same spot where we died. It makes sense if you think about it, Jesophat.”

  Heading out the front door, I make my way across the yard before suddenly stopping. I feel as if I'm being watched, and after a moment I turn back to look at the house, expecting to maybe see Ma at one of the upstairs windows. A few seconds later, however, I realize that there's another face staring out at me from the kitchen window. Pale and dark-eyed, with a hint of pure hatred in his expression, my dead father has half his head missing thanks to the time Jesophat shot him, and there's blood all over the front of his shirt.

  For a moment, I actually consider going back into the house to ask him for help, before Jesophat bumps my arm again and I realize that Pa would never see things my way. He's still full of anger, even though he's been dead for forty years, so I turn and start walking away, and this time I know I'll never come back to the farmhouse. With Ma gone, there's nothing left here for me. Pa and Joe can rattle about as ghosts if they want, but I don't give a damn.

  “Trust me,” I say firmly, with tears in my eyes as I feel Jesophat's ghost bumping against my shoulder. “I'm gonna find a way to bring you back.”

  Erica

  “I had to call in a few favors,” Murphy explains as she leads us along a corridor at the jail, “and we won't have long, but I figure he might be able to help. So far, we still can't find where Addie's holed up.”

  “Did you tell him why we're here?” I ask.

  “I'm not sure whether he was informed,” she replies. “We won't have long with him, and I don't even know what state of mind he's in. My friend from the office said to be prepared for... Well, she just warned me that he might be a little volatile.” Stopping at the next door, she turns to me. “Do you have any specific questions you want me to ask him?”

  “I'm coming in with you,” I tell her.

  “That's not possible.”

  “I'm coming in!” I say firmly. “I want to see this Jesophat guy! I want to hear what he tells you!”

  She hesitates, before nodding. “Just let me go in and clear that. It might be possible.”

  As she slips into the room, I turn to Brabham.

  “There's a dark energy in this building,” he says after a moment, looking around at the corridor. “Can't you feel it?”

  “It's a jail,” I reply, anxiously waiting for Murphy to come back out from the room. “Of course it feels like hell.”

  ***

  “We're here to talk to you about Serriah Sansome,” Murphy says, seated opposite Jesophat in a small interview room. “I'm gonna go ahead and assume you remember that name.”

  From behind the two-way mirror, I stare at the large, overweight tattooed man who's sitting chained in an orange jumpsuit. His head is shaved, and numerous amateur tattoos have been crudely inked into his scalp and neck. Some are faded and some seem fresher, but I make out – among others – several Nazi swastikas, a pyramid with an eye at the top, what looks like an attempt to depict a dollar bill, and even a few Christian symbols, along with a few more religious icons that I don't quite recognize. Half a dozen large scars criss-cross his face, and it's clear that his decades in jail haven't been without incident.

  “This is a waste of time,” I mutter. “We should get out there and just keep looking for Addie.”

  “We have officers doing that already,” Brabham reminds me, keeping his voice low. “O'Reilly might know something else we can use. A place where they used to meet, a secret hideaway, something significant...”

  “But Addie wouldn't know about that,” I point out, “not unless...”

  My voice trails off and I realize that for the first time, I've begun to entertain the possibility that somehow my daughter really might have the memories of a girl who died four decades ago.

  “If Serriah came back to Hedderburgh today,” Murphy continues, as Jesophat crosses his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair, “where do you think she might go?”

  She waits for a reply, but Jesophat merely watches her with an amused grin.

  “The life of a young girl is at stake here,” Murphy tells him. “Nothing can change what happened in the past, Jesophat, but -”

  “My name is not Jesophat,” he replies.

  She stares at him for a moment.

  “My name is Christopher,” he continues. “It means bearer of Christ. I changed it legally ten years ago. I no longer answer to the name Jesophat O'Reilly, although I of course recognize that a change of name in no way releases me from my past sins. I changed my name not to deny my actions, but to signify a new path toward enlightenment and spiritual rebirth.”

  “Okay,” Murphy replies, clearly a little thrown. “Well... The thing is, there's a little girl out there, a nine-year-old girl named Addie, and we need to find her as quickly as possible.”

  “What does this have to do with me?” he asks.

  “This little girl believes...” Murphy pauses. “Addie is under the impression that she has been possessed by the spirit or soul of Serriah Sansome.”

  He frowns.

  “We think she's in the Hedderburgh area, searching for...” Another pause. “Well, to be honest, the story gets a little complicated at this point, but it seems that Addie believe your soul is going to join her in some manner.”

  “My soul?” He chuckles, as if he finds the whole thing funny. “My soul's right where it's supposed to be.” He prods his chest with a thick, tattooed finger. “If anyone's looking for my soul, then they need to come here and see me. My soul is still with my meat.”

  “It would seem that Addie doesn't realize that,” Murphy tells him. “She's under the impression that you died back in the 1970s, at the same time that Serriah died.”

  “And not a day goes by that I -” He pauses. “No, that's not true,” he continues, sitting up a little and placing his chained hands on the table. “I am eternally grateful to the Lord for granting me the opportunity to live through the past four decades. I have used that time to grow as a person, and to recognize the anger and hatred that drove me during my early years. I admit that during my initial time in jail, I turned to dark forces and I believed some terrible things, but I saw the light and now I am on the path to redemption. At least, that is my hope.”

  “We just need to find this little girl,” Murphy replies, “and we've checked the two farms, and we've checked the barn where she died, and we're out of ideas.”

  “If there's anywhere else,” he continues, “then only Serriah and I would've known about it. This little Addie girl would have no idea.”

  “True, but -”

  “Not unless she really does have Serriah's soul bumping about in her body.”

  “We're just trying to cover every possibility,” Murphy tells him, shifting a little in her chair as if she's uncomfortable, “and time is running out. Please, if there's anywhere else you can think of, anywhere we should check, I need to know.”

  Jesophat glances over at the mirror, looking almost directly at me.

  “Who's in there?” he asks.

  “That doesn't matter.”

  He turns back to her, and for a moment he seems lost in thought. “Serriah and I,” he continues finally, “we had a few places we used to go. We kept well away from our parents' farmhouses, for obvious reasons. There were a couple of barns, places where we knew we wouldn't be disturbed. We went to the lake a few times, too, and one night we even scurried off to that old church out back of Kenyon Way.” He pauses again, and a faint smile reaches his lips. “You could try all those places if you like, but I doubt she'd be there, even if she's the real Serriah.”

  Murphy is busy scribbling the suggestio
ns down.

  “Marringham,” he says suddenly.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “Marringham,” he continues. “When we were kids, Serriah and I talked about taking her father's farm and my father's farm, and merging them to make one big estate. We were gonna call it Marringham. We talked about it a lot when we were alone, but neither of us ever told anyone else about that name. If you find the kid, ask her what we were gonna call our big farm. If she knows the name Marringham, then...” He takes a deep breath. “If she knows Marringham, then that's how you can tell it's really Serriah in there. No-one else, apart from me, could physically answer that question.”

  “And there's nowhere else you can think of?” she asks. “We don't like the idea of Addie sleeping outside tonight. It's gonna get pretty cold.”

  “I'll pray for her,” he replies. “There's not much else I can do, but I can ask the Lord to help. He'll send someone to watch over her soul and keep her safe.”

  “I'm sure he will,” Murphy mutters, getting to her feet. “Thank you for your time, Mr. O'Reilly. You've helped narrow down some -”

  “I've always wondered where her soul had gone,” he adds, “seeing as how it was lost and all.”

  She turns to him. “I'm sorry?”

  “I used the power of prayer to reach out to her. To all the people I hurt, actually. So I could apologize. I was visited in my cell by all the members of my family, one by one.” He pauses, with a flicker of fear in his eyes. “One of my sisters forgave me. She'd found solace on the other side, but... The rest of them were filled with hatred and fury. They wanted revenge, they wanted to hurt me, and I have no doubt that they're waiting for me to join them in the after-life, so they can exact their vengeance. I've made peace with that. But the one soul I could never locate was Serriah's, and I always wondered why. At first I thought she was ignoring me, but over time I came to realize that she... I don't know, she just wasn't with the rest. Maybe now I'm starting to understand why, if she was looking for a way back.”