Page 18 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

18

Wheel of Fortune

As soon as Tad had handed Harlan his drink, both he and the sinister ghost disappeared. Thank god.

I took Tad’s advice and refrained from asking any additional questions surrounding the tattoo and the supposed secret society attached to it. Instead, I joined my friends in the other room and allowed the women they’d been playing with to teach me how to play spades.

We had a great time, laughing and drinking into the early morning hours. I even managed to forget about that angry spirit that had been present.

Harlan stopped into the lounge to ensure we could find our way home. He promised to have a golf cart waiting. Thankfully, Nina stopped drinking hours ago in anticipation of being our driver. Ever the good friend and mother hen. That was the last of Harlan we saw for the rest of our time on the Montgomery Estate, and I can’t say I’m sad about it.

“Are we almost there?” Jill whines as we stumble our way back through the tunnels, finally ready to call it a night.

The sun will be rising before too long, and Nina and I have an important afternoon ahead of us. We need sleep.

“It shouldn’t be far,” Nina calls out as she leads the way.

“Wanna come back to my place for a nightcap?” Jill slurs, and Nina looks over her shoulder, face pinched in something like disbelief.

“It’s three a.m.,” Nina squawks. “I’m going to bed.”

I bob my head in agreement. “I’m beat, and we have things to do.”

We’re finally climbing the rickety stairs, headed out of the secret tunnel. The house is dark and eerily quiet. The musty odor of mold and decay permeates the room, a detail I hadn’t noticed earlier. The air feels heavy, and every hair on my body stands on end.

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggest, growing increasingly uneasy.

When we make it out front, Harlan’s golf cart has been replaced by a generic one he’d promised Jill would be waiting for us. We pile in with Nina behind the wheel and Jill sitting shotgun. I’m in the back, my gaze involuntarily drawn toward the looming silhouette of the decrepit home, its weather-beaten facade appearing as though it could collapse at any moment.

The engine roars to life as the golf cart sets off along the winding dirt path, gradually leaving the eerie place behind. Despite the distance, the unsettling feeling that had gripped me refuses to dissipate. While the other girls engage in lighthearted conversation and laughter, oblivious to my growing apprehension, I remain on edge, my senses heightened.

A figure emerges from the shadows. Squinting against the dim moonlight, I lean forward, my heart pounding in my chest, questioning whether my eyes are playing tricks on me.

But there’s no mistaking what I see.

It’s the elderly ghost, its ethereal form shimmering in the moonlight. A shiver runs down my spine as he emits a bone-chilling wail.

“Drive, drive!” I yell, panic rising in my voice as Nina slams her foot down on the accelerator.

The golf cart lurches forward, but the spirit is relentless, his wraithlike form floating effortlessly behind us as we speed through the night.

“What’s happening?” Nina shouts, over the howl of the wind and the hum of the motor.

I look up to meet her concerned eyes in the rearview mirror, mouthing the word ghost .

Nina grips the wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white as she navigates the winding path, desperately trying to outmaneuver our pursuer, whom she can’t even see.

“Why are you driving like a bat outta hell?” Jill’s voice pierces through the chaos, a hint of fear punctuating the words. With a firm grip on the seat, she struggles to maintain her balance, and I worry she’ll be thrown from the cart at this rate.

“Hang on, everyone,” Nina yells, her voice determined.

With each twist and turn, the ghost gains ground, his wails echoing off the trees like a haunting melody.

Jill’s eyes are wide with terror as we hurtle through the darkness, the wind whipping through our hair.

“What is that noise?” Jill cries out, her head whipping back toward the banshee cry.

She can hear him.

“I don’t know, but we need to lose it, fast,” Nina shouts, her voice tinged with urgency as she scans the area for an escape route.

“We’re not going to make it,” I say, my heart racing as the ghost charges toward us, his eyes blazing with malevolent fury.

We zoom through the labyrinth of trees and bushes, and just when all hope seems lost, the path straightens and the lights of the main street glimmer in the distance like a beacon of safety.

Just a bit farther.

Nina guns the engine, propelling the golf cart forward. As soon as we break through the trees onto the street, the ghost emits a furious wail, vanishing into thin air as if it collided with an invisible barrier.

Jill’s scream slices through the air, and I quickly raise my eyes just in time to witness Nina execute a sharp turn, swerving to avoid colliding with a parked car on the side of the road.

“I’m sorry,” Nina shouts, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror.

“It’s okay. We’re…okay,” I manage, my breath ragged and heart pounding. “He’s gone.”

Nina exhales heavily, easing off the accelerator and sinking back against the seat.

Jill’s hands shoot up in the air, and she erupts into cheers as if we’re fugitives who narrowly dodged a capture in a high-speed chase. Apparently oblivious to the fact we were being hunted down by a ghost with ill intentions.

“That. Was. Awesome,” she exclaims, clapping her hands enthusiastically, while both Nina and I can only shake our heads in disbelief.

That’s Jill for you—the friend who thrives on adrenaline rushes.

The remainder of the ride home is silent, save for the soft snoring of Jill from the front.

As we skid to a stop in front of Jill’s condo, Nina and I exchange relieved glances.

“That was too close for comfort,” I say, rubbing at my chest.

“But we made it.” Nina’s voice is filled with relief as we share a collective sigh. “What was that, Ally? Was it a poltergeist?”

My lips press together as I think through the specifics. “It was a regular ghost, but one who wasn’t good in life or death if I had to guess.”

“You don’t want to go back there and help him on to the afterlife?” Nina asks, one side of her mouth tipped up slightly.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “My life means more to me than that. I’m coming to learn that messing with things I don’t understand isn’t in my best interest.”

She nods her head. “I’m happy to hear that. You need to keep yourself safe.”

For Ava, I won’t take chances without having the right people with me to help navigate the unknown. That spirit back there will have to stay put.

“What are we going to do with her?” I ask, tipping my chin toward the sleeping beauty who hasn’t so much as moved since she fell asleep.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Let’s carry her in.”

As we stumble into the rented condo, something we found online, exhaustion weighs heavily on me, but the events of the night refuse to be brushed aside. I lead Nina into the living room, eager to piece together what happened at the abandoned estate.

“The ghost…the one that was chasing us,” I start, trying to organize my thoughts in a way so as to not confuse Nina. “It was with Harlan earlier tonight at the bar, drilling holes into the side of his head.”

“Harlan?”

I nod, swallowing hard as the memory of the ghost’s haunting gaze floods back to me. “I think it’s connected to Chelsea Grayson’s death.”

Nina’s brow furrows as she listens intently. “Connected? How is that possible?”

I take a deep breath. “Remember the dream from the other night? The one with the stranger?” I ask, and she tilts her head to the side. “On the napkins at the bar in my dream, there was a strange symbol—one with triangles and an eye.”

Her mouth opens and then shuts. “I do remember the dream. But what does that have to do with tonight?”

“I saw that same symbol on Harlan’s forearm and behind a woman’s ear at the bar.”

“The exact symbol or a similar one?”

“The same,” I say, eyes boring into hers. “The bartender told me that it’s linked to some secret society.”

She chews on her bottom lip, eyes narrowed in concentration. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s a big leap to connect them to a murder back home.”

“The woman at the bar with the tattoo, she was from New York. What if they have ties to New England?”

Nina’s eyes widen with realization. “You think this secret society is widespread, and some force is bringing it to light here so that you’ll work the case.”

I nod gravely. “Yes. I think we need to find out more about them and just how widespread they are.”

“Do you think Chelsea was involved with the society?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure, but I want to have Nick check her for a tattoo.”

“What if we have Nick look into Harlan?” Nina suggests. “He has access to ways of digging up information that we don’t. He might be able to connect the dots between the secret society and Chelsea’s death.”

“I also think we need to have a talk with Jill. She should really stay away from Harlan and that place. I don’t have a good feeling about either.”

She nods in agreement, and I feel a bit better about our chances of uncovering something.

“That’s a great idea.”

I send off a quick text to Nick, needing to get the ball rolling on the investigation of Harlan and the society.

Me

When you get up, call me.

My phone rings almost instantly.

“It’s Nick,” I say, glancing up at Nina, who’s curled up on the couch.

She lifts a brow as if to say, Are you going to answer it?

I click the button and take a deep breath. “Hey. What are you doing up already?”

He sighs down the line. “I haven’t been getting much sleep. A lot happening around here,” he confesses, his voice husky and deep. A shiver runs down my spine as I listen, captivated by the enticing sound. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

A lazy smile spreads across my face, and when my head lifts, I find Nina staring at me in amusement. I roll my eyes.

“Everything is fine. Well…not exactly fine, but I’m fine—”

“Lyss,” he says, bringing my rambling to a halt. “What’s happened?”

I heave a breath. “How do you know something has happened?”

He chuckles. “You tend to talk in circles when you’re trying to avoid sharing something you think I’ll have a hard time believing.”

“Huh,” I say, recognizing how quickly Nick West has come to know me.

“You can tell me, Alyssa. I’ll always believe you.”

My body tingles from the tips of my toes to my scalp. His words envelop me like a warm hug.

“Thank you, Nick. I appreciate that.” I take a deep breath and dive into my suspicions.

When I’ve finished relaying every last detail, Nick’s quiet on the other line.

“What is he saying?” Nina whispers, and I shake my head.

“Tell her I’m thinking,” he says, humor in his tone.

I smirk, relaying the message. Nina harrumphs, sitting back into the cushions with a yawn.

“Do you think you could draw up a sketch of the tattoo?” he finally says.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I quickly retrieve the sketch I made earlier from my purse. With a few taps on my phone, I send it over to Nick.

A tense silence hangs in the air before Nick speaks again. “Listen, Alyssa. I need you to get out of Florida. Now. It’s not safe for you there.”

I hesitate, weighing his words carefully. “We can’t leave yet. We’re meeting Ian’s mom tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ve seen something similar to this before, and the people it was attached to are dangerous, Alyssa.” I hear him curse under his breath, and then he says, “These are the sorts of people that won’t hesitate to silence anyone who tries to out their secrets.” Nick’s voice crackles over the phone, laden with concern.

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “I understand. I’ll proceed with caution.”

“I don’t think you do understand. I’m serious, Alyssa. These people play by their own rules. You’re playing with fire.”

“Nick,” I say, voice hard and determined. “I hear what you’re saying, and I do recognize the danger. I appreciate you and your words, but I promise, I can take care of myself.”

There’s a resigned sigh on the other end of the line. “Fine. But please be careful, Alyssa. I mean it. They have connections in high places.”

I wonder if he’s alluding to the government, but I don’t ask, understanding his deliberate ambiguity.

“We’ll catch the people behind this. I promise you that.” I can hear the determination in Nick’s voice as he vows to uncover the truth.

“Has the second body been discovered?”

“No. Nothing yet. Have you seen anything else that could tell us who she is?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I reply, stifling a yawn.

“Get some rest. Call me if you find anything else that could be helpful.”

“I will. Good night, Nick.”

As we hang up, a sense of purpose washes over me. First, we’ll find Ian, and then I’m going to help Nick take down Chelsea’s murderer.