The Ghost Locket Read online

  The Ghost Locket

  A novel by

  D. Allen Wright

  Published by

  Smashwords, Inc.

  Copyright © 2012 - D. Allen Wright - All Rights Reserved.

  Cover art by

  D. Allen Wright

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Contents

  Chapter 1 – The Crash

  Chapter 2 – A Locket Found

  Chapter 3 – Julia’s Sadness

  Chapter 4 – Kit Meets The Ghost

  Chapter 5 – Julia Remembers

  Chapter 6 – The Beatdown

  Chapter 7 – Hail the Heros

  Chapter 8 – New Friends

  Chapter 9 – Bad News

  Chapter 10 – The Dinner Guest

  Chapter 11 – Field Trip to The Met

  Chapter 12 – The Challenge

  Chapter 13 – Kit’s Artwork

  Chapter 14 – First Payday

  Chapter 15 – Share the Wealth

  Chapter 16 – The Bad News

  Chapter 17 – Wrist-Rocket Cowboy

  Chapter 18 – Graduation & David

  Chapter 19 – First Kiss

  Chapter 20 – A Horse Race

  Chapter 21 – Nothing Like Riding A Bike

  Chapter 22 – The Interview

  Chapter 23 – Vendetta

  Chapter 24 – The Unexpected Gift

  Chapter 25 – Mad Skills

  Chapter 26 – Murder at The Gallery

  Chapter 27 – Saying Goodbye

  Chapter 28 – Laying Low

  Chapter 29 - $178,500, less 10%

  Chapter 30 – The Sleepover

  Chapter 31 – Kidnapped!

  Chapter 32 – Ghost Coma

  Chapter 33 – Shootout in the ICU

  Chapter 34 – Montana

  Chapter 35 – Riding Camels & Elephants

  Epilogue – A Celebration of Life

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 - The Crash

  "Emily, it’s time to get up. You're going to be late for school," Julia called from the kitchen.

  "But Mom," Emily replied. "Do I really have to go to school today?"

  Julia walked into Emily's room, crossed over to the window and raised the blinds. The sudden surge of brightness filling the room caused her to sit up in bed and rub the sleep from her eyes.

  "Do you really think that you're going to get out of going to school today just because it's your birthday?" Julia said.

  "Everyone skips on their birthday; so you can't blame me for trying," she said, tossing the covers back and climbing out of bed with a sigh of irritation.

  She looked at herself in her dresser mirror and began running her brush through her sleep-tangled hair.

  Julia stood in the doorway watching. She could not help thinking how beautiful her daughter was. She inherited her mother's good looks; lustrous, straight blond hair, a flawless complexion, and the same cool-blue eyes that her father found so irresistible in her. Emily noticed her mother still standing in the doorway and turned her head with a questioning look. By now, she was usually back to preparing breakfast.

  "Is there something on your mind, Mom?"

  "Hey, I've got something for you," Julia said, as her daughter's question brought her back to earth.

  "I wasn't going to give it to you until after you got home from school, but I thought that you might want to show it off a little to your friends,"

  "Really, what is it?" Emily asked, curiously.

  "It’s something my mother gave to me when I was your age, and your Grandma Emily gave it to her at the same age also. You were named after her, you know,"

  "Yeah, I remember. What is it?" Emily asked again.

  Julia handed the carefully wrapped box to Emily.

  "Open it and see," She said.

  Emily removed the bow and wrapping from the box to reveal a dark-blue velvet jewelry box inside. She slowly lifted the lid. Inside was a gold, heart-shaped locket. She took the locket from the box and carefully examined it. Turning it in her hands, she opened it and noticed the engraved inscription on the inside.

  "What does it say, the writing is so small,” Emily said, straining to read the tiny inscription.

  "It says, Je t'aime de tout mon coeur,” Julia told her.

  "What does it mean," Emily said.

  "It means; I love you with all my heart,” Julia said, placing her hands on Emily's face and kissing her forehead.

  "It's French. Your Grandpa George got it for her, while he was stationed in France, right after the Second World War. It was very precious to her. She said she always felt close to him when she was wearing it.”

  "How come I've never seen you wearing it?"

  "Oh, I used to wear it a lot in my younger days, but I decided that it was something that I wanted to pass on to you, when you were old enough. So, one day I just put it in its box and saved it especially for you; and for this day, your sixteenth birthday. It's kind of a family heirloom. Hopefully, someday, you'll give it to your daughter."

  Emily was surprised that something that old could appeal to her. Usually, old jewelry held no interest to her. Most of it, she considered too big and gaudy for her tastes. This was nothing like the glittering necklaces she had seen wealthy women wearing at dinner parties, or at her mother's gallery events. This was simple, tasteful and elegant.

  "I love it Mom! It's beautiful!"

  She stood before her dresser mirror, placed the locket's chain around her neck and fastened the clasp. She stood there, admiring it. Julia had a good idea how she felt, as her mind recalled the day her mother had presented the locket to her.

  "Hang on while I get a picture." Julia framed Emily in the camera's viewfinder and snapped a photo.

  "Now you, young lady; you better get moving, or you'll be late to school,” Julia said, trying to sound stern.

  With Emily off to school, Julia took a moment to download the picture from her camera and print out a nice eight by ten. She placed the framed photo on the sideboard in the apartment entryway. "There," she thought, "that looks great."

  "Well, time to get to work." She said, glancing down at her watch,

  Julia wiped the dark, red clay from her hands and stepped back from the sculpture. She looked critically at one side, then the next, turning it at every conceivable angle. The last streams of the afternoon sunlight bathed her art in an almost unearthly glow. She systematically scrutinized her efforts, poring over it, like the perfectionist she was. Now satisfied, her mouth broadened into a smile that quickly spread to the slightly crinkled corners of her eyes.

  "I think I've got it," she said excitedly. Her lips pursed in an upward direction as she sharply blew the single sweat soaked blond ringlet off her forehead.

  It was Emily, her beautiful Emily. She had good reason to be proud of her work. The bust was a perfect likeness. More than just her daughter’s features, it captured her spirit and her personality. She didn't even need Emily to sit for the piece. She knew that face so well, perhaps better than her own.

  "Oh no," she said, the smile dropping from her face.

  "I don't think I can sell it! It just may be the best piece I've ever done!"

  It was true. It was undeniably her best sculpture to date. It was, after all, a labor of love.

&nb
sp; "Oh God, what’s Paul going to say?" Julia said, "The house is already filled with pieces I couldn't part with for one reason, or another,” She thought back to the crack he had made about them starting their own art museum, owing to her inability to part with certain pieces that she had developed sentimental attachments to. She agreed, each piece was like a child to her, something you give birth to; and no mother wants to give up her baby. “You have to be practical,” he had said.

  "What's Paul going to say about what?" Paul's voice broke the silence, causing her to turn with a startled yelp. She didn't hear her husband come home or enter the studio. She was too preoccupied with her work.

  "Paul, you startled me,” she said, regaining her composure. "You're home early."

  "What's Paul going to say about what?" He said, pressing for an answer.

  She stepped to one side to show the bust to Paul.

  "About that," she said, as she pointed toward the finished sculpture.

  Paul's expression said it all. He adored that face too! His mouth dropped open in sheer admiration of the piece. He walked slowly around the sculpture.

  "Oh Baby, wow!" he said. "She's lucky she takes after you! I totally understand if you don't want to sell it. That is a keeper! Besides if it gets too crowded in here, we'll just get a bigger place."

  Julia, relieved, smiled brightly, flipped her hand towel over her shoulder and threw her arms around Paul's neck.

  "Problem solved!" She said, as she planted a warm, lingering kiss on his mouth.

  "That's why I love this man," she thought to herself. He could still make her heart beat a mile a minute.

  "Is dinner ready?" he said.

  She playfully punched him in the arm.

  "Boy, you sure know how to spoil a mood. Sorry hon, I’m running behind again, how do you feel about pizza?" She replied smiling.

  "Again? Oh, okay, but no anchovies this time!" He replied, now looking around. "Where is the birthday girl?"

  "She called, asked if she could stop by Rachel's to show her the locket,"

  "You gave it to her already?"

  "Yeah, I thought she would get a kick out of showing it off to her friends at school. I told her that you would pick her up when you go get the pizza,” she smiled and winked.

  "Pretty sure of yourself aren't you?" Paul winked back.

  "Yup, pretty sure!" Julia replied.

  "So, you wanna fool around?"

  "Mmm, tempting," she said, pausing to look at her watch, "but we'd better not. She's expecting you in twenty minutes, so you better get going. Don't take too long. I want to light the candles on the cake and meet her at the door with it. You walk in behind her and we both start singing "Happy Birthday," okay?"

  "Are you sure she isn't getting a little too old for the cake and candles at the door routine? She's not six anymore, you know!"

  "You hush mister! Let me keep her, as long as I can. She'll be off to college before you know it!"

  "Okay, okay,” Paul said, laughing.

  "Hi Dad," Emily said, as she climbed into the front seat.

  "Hi yourself, birthday girl,” Paul answered back.

  "I smell pizza,” Emily said, deeply inhaling the familiar aroma.

  "Hold on there, brat, all of a sudden you think you’re too grown up to give the old man a kiss hello?"

  "Sorry Dad,” she said, as she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  On the way, he asked his daughter about her day, how school was, and did she like her locket? Just as she was telling him, he stopped at a red light; the light changed to green, and he pulled out into the intersection. Suddenly, a horn blared, and then, seemingly out of nowhere; a huge truck struck the passenger side of the car with a hammering jolt. The impact thrust the car forward into an SUV travelling in the opposite direction. The sound of twisting steel and breaking glass rose in a sickening shriek, devouring the usual sounds of normal traffic. The truck's front end rose in the air, like a breeching whale, and came down with a deafening crash on top of Paul's car.

  The caved-in roof had forced Paul's body forward, draping him over the steering wheel. His car horn droned the cry of an injured animal, for what seemed an eternity; then was suddenly quiet as the truck's wheels shifted downward with a groan. Paul floated in and out of consciousness, scarcely alive. His face was a corrupted mass of bleeding cuts and deep gashes. He looked like a bear or a lion had mauled him. The steering wheel had crushed his chest, and his right leg had a compound fracture; his upper thighbone protruded through the muscle and skin above his knee. Blood ran in rivulets from his nose, mouth and ears, and a large hanging flap of the scalp exposed the dull white skull on the back of his head. His breathing was shallow and labored, and a high whistling sound escaped his throat with each breath. As a crowd of onlookers started to surround the scene, a large black man approached the shattered window of Paul's door.

  "Hang in there buddy, I called 911; help's on the way,” The man tried to reassure him.

  There would be no time for that. Paul's breathing slowed and became increasingly shallow, then stopped altogether. The man reached inside the car and felt Paul's neck for a pulse. There was none; he was gone. Emily's cool blue eyes, stared straight up, unblinking. A single tear traced a path down her right cheek, and her mouth was slightly open in surprise. Her decapitated head lay neatly in her own lap.

  Julia was starting to get worried. "They should have been back by now," She said aloud. I'll bet she talked him in to going for ice cream; she thought to herself. She lit, blew out, and re-lit the candles on the cake three times.

  She was temporarily puzzled when she heard the sound of the doorbell; but reasoned that they had stopped for something, and must have their hands full. Fumbling for the lighter again, she quickly re-lit the candles on the cake and hurried to the door.

  "It's about time! I was starting to get worried," she said, as she opened the door.

  Two New York City police officers stood in the doorway.

  "Sorry to disturb you Mam, are you the wife of Paul Davis?" One of the officers asked.

  She could only nod in stunned silence.

  He removed his hat, bowed his head slightly, and continued.

  "Mam, we're sorry to have to tell you this... I mean, to tell you, Mam, that your husband and daughter were killed in an automobile accident this evening. We wish to express our deepest condolences,” he said, as his voice trailed off.

  Julia's grip on the platter containing the cake, released, and it seemed to her, to fall to the floor in slow motion. It shattered against the tiled entry, sending pieces of cake outward; some landing with lit candles still on them. Julia's shaken figure followed, collapsing to the floor, as the two officers lunged forward to catch her. Julia started to weep.

  Chapter 2 - A Locket Found

  Katherine Collins, better known to her friends and family as "Kit," was nearing her fifteenth birthday. Quick, energetic and "street-smart, she knew this neighborhood as well as any kid living there. Her mother had moved here when Kit was just two, so she knew just about everyone around. The storekeepers, the butcher, the delicatessen, the Laundromat, she was pretty much on a first-name basis with all of them. She and her friends moved easily throughout the neighborhood.

  Sure, there were times when the older boys, would tease and taunt their little group, but it was nothing they couldn't handle. Even the ones who tried to intimidate, soon learned that when one needed help, the others weren't far behind. There was always safety in numbers. The first law of the street; know who your friends are, so someone always has your back.

  It was in this group, which consisted of ten to fifteen girls; that Kit felt most comfortable. They had no real leader, but if you asked who was in charge; Kit’s name invariably came up, much to her dismay actually. She wasn’t all together comfortable with the thought that the buck stopped with her. Still, if anyone had a problem that they couldn't solve on their own, she was usually the one they went to for advice. She accepted the role, sometimes r
eluctantly; but she did accept it. Mostly because she truly cared about her friends, and had a hard time saying no to them, and secondly, she knew most of them since preschool!

  There was no denying that Kit was smart, and not just in a book-smart way. Sure, she got good grades, but more than that, she was a problem-solver. She didn't talk a lot, unlike a lot of girls her age, but when she did, most everyone listened. Even many adults came to regard her as, wise-beyond-her-years. So, even though she may not have sought power or influence, she had it.

  Kit met a few of her friends in front of the small neighborhood grocery every morning before school. From there they walked to the bus stop together and talked on the way.

  "That creepy Tommy Rosetti is following us again. I think he likes you Alicia," Gwen said, teasing.

  "Ugh, don't even joke about it! I swear he still picks his nose and eats it!" Alicia replied, "He's totally hopeless!" she added.

  "Take it easy Alicia," Kit said, "He's harmless!"

  "Yeah, I suppose," Alicia replied, softening a bit.

  As they walked, Kit noticed some city sanitation workers sweeping up broken glass from the street.

  "What happened," Kit asked the man sweeping.

  "Big traffic accident, dump truck T-boned a car, a man and his daughter died," the man replied, pausing to scratch his whisker-stubbled chin.

  "Yeah, film at eleven," Alicia added sarcastically.

  "Didn't you hear? Old Mrs. Mahoney says a girl got her head cut off right there,” Gwen said, pointing to the skid marks in the center of the intersection.

  Kit pondered it a moment. She knew a boy in her class in the fourth grade that died in a car accident. They even had an assembly in the school gym to remember him, but then a police officer spoke and the whole thing just turned into some big safety lecture. She sensed that there was something different about this one though. She didn't really know why. After all, she didn't know the girl. She didn't even go to the same school. Still, as they walked, she couldn't get it out of her mind.