Ghostly hostage, p.1
Ghostly Hostage, page 1
GHOSTLY
HOSTAGE
GHOSTLY HOSTAGE
COPYRIGHT
© 2024 by E.M. Leya
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author.
This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by: Annabella Stone
Editor: Crowder Editing
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM E.M. LEYA
CHAPTER ONE
Lance lifted his face to the sun as he climbed out of his car. It was his first day back at work after a long and relaxing cruise with Angus, his boyfriend. They'd spent nearly a week in the Caribbean, and now that he was home again, he was having trouble getting back into the grind of things. He wanted to be lying on the deck in his swim trunks and feeling the sun on his skin while drinking margaritas. Instead, he was going to have to face dead bodies, autopsies, and a whole lot of questions from his co-workers about his vacation. He took a deep breath, preparing himself as he opened the door to the Medical Examiner's Office and walked inside.
"Lance, welcome back." Kathy, who ran the front office smiled as he walked in. "Look at that tan. You got yourself some sun. You look great. How was the cruise?"
Lance smiled at the older lady. He'd always liked Kathy. They couldn't do what they did without her. She handled the hardest part of their job, dealing with the families. She was their point of contact when a loved one was sent to the medical examiner for an autopsy. She worked with both the families and the mortuaries to make the process as simple as possible. "It was amazing. I didn't want to come home. We had a great time."
Kathy grinned. "You'll have to show me pictures later when you get time." She handed him a sheet of paper. "Wish I could tell you that it's been peaceful here, but it's anything but."
He glanced at the list of autopsies that needed to be done, proving that his vacation was really over and that it was time to get back to work. "I can't wait until Brayden can start taking his own cases." Lance sighed, thinking about the new intern they had shadowing them. Once he was licensed, they planned to offer him a job, but until then, he was just a second set of hands for Lance and Sam as they worked through the day.
"We're all looking forward to that." Kathy nodded to him as her phone started to ring.
Lance waved and left her to answer it. He made his way down the hallway to his office, slowly starting to feel as if the walls were closing in on him as he realized his week of freedom and relaxation was really over. He sank down in his chair, turned on his computer, and tried to switch his mind from beaches and sunshine to dead bodies and cause of death.
"You're back." Jeremy floated into his office. "You've been missed."
Lance believed that from Jeremy since Lance was the only person working at the morgue who could see or hear him, at least most of the time. Jeremy was a ghost. He'd died of a massive heart attack in his early twenties while skateboarding. Instead of moving on to wherever it was souls went after dying, he'd decided to stay around and hang out at the morgue, learning all he could about the human body and how to do autopsies. Lance found it strange since being a ghost, Jeremy couldn't do anything more than watch, but he'd found having Jeremy around helpful. Now that he'd been here a while, Jeremy often pointed things out during an autopsy that Lance hadn't noticed or just hadn't got to yet. It was nice having a second set of eyes on things. Jeremy had become a good friend and often went home with Lance to hang out with the ghosts he had living with him. "Only because they wouldn't let me stay on the ship another day." Lance kept his voice low since the door to his office was open.
Having the ability to see ghosts wasn't something Lance liked to share with people. A handful knew of his abilities, but most didn't have a clue that he could see and communicate with the dead. When he'd first gotten the ability after suffering head trauma during a car accident, he'd thought he was losing his mind. If it hadn't been for a sexy detective and his mother coming over to talk to him, Lance might have walked himself into the psych ward and offered himself up as crazy.
"I bet. One of these days, I'm going to take a cruise. There are so many places I want to see. I didn't do much traveling when I was alive."
"The bonus of being a ghost. Free travel anywhere you want to go." Lance smiled. "What's new around here?"
"Nothing. Seriously, it's been busy. I don't know what's going on, but we've had a ton of suicides lately. You did miss a pissed-off ghost. An older man was upset because he'd died of a heart attack while driving home. He'd just found out he'd gotten a huge promotion at work and kept insisting he had to find a way to come back. I finally got him to go into the light, but he wasn't happy about it." Jeremy appeared to be leaning against the wall of Lance's office, but his back kept floating into the solid space, making only half of Jeremy visible to Lance.
The light was something Lance hadn't ever seen, but all the ghosts talked about it. He thought of it as the doorway to whatever came next for those who died. They talked about it being a warm, welcoming light that drew them to it. Ghosts like Jeremy had resisted the urge to go into it but said the light was always there and never faded. Lance liked that the ghosts could choose when to enter it. The thing was, as far as he knew, once a ghost went into the light, they couldn't come back. "Glad you got to deal with him." Lance had dealt with enough upset ghosts over the last year or so since his ability kicked in. He sighed as he glanced at the clock. "Guess we better get to work." He stood, leaving his phone and other items on his desk.
"Carrie's already prepping. She's happy to have you back. She's been working with Sam and Kyle over the last week, but there's only so much for her to do," Jeremy told him.
Lance didn't answer since they were now in the hallway. He couldn't risk anyone thinking he'd started talking to himself. Jeremy understood. If they had things to discuss, they could wait until later, when they were alone again. He made his way down the hall to the room where he gowned up in preparation for the autopsy.
Once ready, he pushed open the door to the main room and smiled as he saw Carrie, his assistant, pushing a cart of supplies closer to the autopsy table. The body of an older gentleman lay on the table. "Morning." Lance smiled despite the mask on his face covering his mouth.
"Thank God, you're back." Carrie turned to him. "You have no idea how much I missed you."
"No offense, but probably more than I missed you guys." He enjoyed working with Carrie. She was one of two assistants they had, and she usually worked with him while Kyle worked with Sam.
"I imagine that's true. Hard to come home?" she asked.
"I wanted to stay on that ship another week," Lance admitted as he noticed Jeremy already looking over the man's body. "What do we have today?"
"Russel Ridgemont, sixty-two years old, was found dead outside in his backyard at the bottom of his deck stairs," Carrie informed him.
Lance knew better than to just assume the man had fallen down the steps. Too many times he'd assumed something as a probable cause of death only to find something different when he opened up the body. Lance moved to the table and nodded. "Let's find out what happened." He got right to work. "So, what's new around here?"
"It's been busy, but nothing new or worth talking about. No strange cases or odd autopsies. We've been working late trying to keep up. We're all glad you're back so things can get back to normal."
"Don't try and guilt me for taking a vacation. I won't feel sorry for it." Lance laughed. "How are things with Pete?" He turned the subject to her and her veterinarian boyfriend, hoping to delay having to discuss his cruise.
"Good. He's been busy. He's started working with one of the local pet adoption groups in the area, which means he handles all the spay and neutering, and any other medical issues the dogs or cats might have. It means working longer hours, but most of the clinics in the area work with one group or another to help out." She stood back as Lance inspected the body for any visible trauma.
"That's good to know. Angus and I have talked about getting another dog so Haunt has someone to play with while we're at work all day. When we decide to get one, I'll have you put us in contact with the group." He'd missed his dog while gone, and she'd made sure he'd known how much she missed him. Haunt hadn't left his side since he'd gotten home, and he swore she'd pouted this morning while he was getting ready to go to work. It wasn't as if she'd been home alone. Lance had two ghosts living with him who could interact with animals, and Angus's mother Lizzy had come over every day to make sure she had food and water.
"That would be great. I'm thinking about a second cat, but I'm not sure Ms. Snobby will be happy about it," Carrie told him.
"You named your cat Ms. Snobby?" Lance laughed.
"You'd understand if you were around her. The name fits. She's spoiled rotten and she knows it. She's demanding and snobby, thus the name." Carrie shrugged. "It was a nickname and it kinda stuck."
"I'm going to have to go visit and meet this cat," Jeremy said as he stood beside Lance, watching him work.
Lance didn't respond since Carrie couldn't see or hear Jeremy anyway. "Is she very old?"
"Only about six, so she's got some time left," Carrie told him.
Lance was about to respond when the doors to the room suddenly slammed open. Lance glanced that way and froze, stopping everything he was doing as his eyes went wide. Standing in the doorway, Kathy, Sam, Brayden, and Kyle all looked pale and scared as a woman and man stood behind them with guns pointed at their heads.
Lance swallowed hard and Carrie screamed.
"Get in there." The man with the gun pushed at Brayden's back.
"This is a sterile area," Lance argued as he took in the man who looked to be in his mid-thirties and the woman behind him around the same age.
"Too bad. I need all of you in here. Move over to that far wall and sit." The man waved the gun toward Lance and Carrie. "Now!"
Lance lifted his hands and glanced at Carrie, giving her a slight nod. He had no clue what was going on, but the fact these two people had guns trained on them was all he needed to know to obey. Slowly, he moved with Carrie toward the back wall. As he did, he wished he'd thought of grabbing a scalpel or something from the cart to hide in his gloves as a weapon. As he leaned against the wall, the rest of the others joined him.
"Now sit," the man commanded.
Of course, it was the wall that had nothing near it—the only wall in the room without equipment. Lance watched the man. He didn't appear crazy, other than the fact he was holding people hostage in the morgue. The woman looked nervous and kept glancing over at the body lying on the autopsy table. She looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but there. Her hand shook slightly as she held the gun, but thankfully, she wasn't pointing it at anyone.
Lance glanced at Jeremy, who stood alone near the autopsy table where he'd been when this all started. Thank God, he was here.
Jeremy met Lance's stare. "I'll go get help. I just want to hear why they're here, so I have something to tell Lizzy when I see her. She'll call the police."
Lance nodded. He didn't care if people noticed. This was hardly the time to worry about what people thought of him. "What do you want?" Lance couldn't imagine any reason why someone would come to the morgue with guns.
"We'll get to that." The man barely glanced at Lance.
"Tim—" the woman started.
"Hush. I told you not to use names." The man glared at the woman.
"They'll know our names as soon as you tell them to get Reggie from the hospital," she told him.
"Damn it." He started to pace, then stopped and looked at everyone sitting against the wall. "My son died yesterday at the hospital. I want you to prove that he was murdered. The hospital is claiming his heart just gave out, but I know that's not true. He was doing better. He wasn't having problems. His heart was healthy. It was his lungs that he was being treated for. He was there for one night for some tests. He was laughing and talking about going camping when we left him to run home, then an hour later, we got a call that he died."
The woman openly cried, wiping tears as she continued to hold the gun and watch them.
"I'm sorry for your loss. If you'll just put the gun down, we'll look into this. Did the doctor schedule an autopsy for your son?"
"No, they told us since he died in the hospital that he didn't need one. They said they'd release the body to the mortuary of our choice. But I know my son didn't have a heart attack. He was eleven. If they'd told me his lung collapsed or he had a serious asthma attack, I'd believe it, but not his heart." Tim sighed. "I just want you to prove he was killed."
"We can help you, but not like this." Sam waved a hand. "We don't even have the body here."
"You'll call and get the body. Then you'll do an autopsy on him and prove he was killed." Tim nodded to his wife. "We don't leave here until it's done, and neither do any of you."
Kathy sobbed and Lance saw Carrie settle a hand on her arm.
Lance gave a nod to Jeremy, hoping he'd take it as a command to go get help. He'd have to find Angus's mother, Lizzy, to do it. She was the only one around besides him who could see ghosts. Lizzy would then call Angus, and from there they might get some help. No matter how this all happened, they were going to be here for a while.
"I'll find Lizzy, then go and tell Bethany and Ray so they can help." Jeremy floated through the wall without anyone but Lance knowing that help was on the way.
"Then you're going to have to let me call and request the body be released to us. Then I'll have to go pick it up," Sam told the man.
"No! No one is leaving here. They can bring the body to you." Tim glared at Sam.
"Then they'll know something is wrong. We always pick up the bodies," Sam explained. "In fact, we get calls all day to pick up bodies. When we don't respond, people are going to know something is wrong here."
"I don't care who knows. No one comes in or out until this is done. They can leave the body at the front doors, and we'll roll him in." Tim started to pace again. "We won't rest until we know the truth."
Lance met Sam's gaze. They had no other option than to do what he said. Hopefully, Jeremy would get to Lizzy and that would get the police here. He had faith that Angus would do everything he could to keep them safe.
"Then you're going to have to let me go get the number to the hospital and make that call. There's not a phone in here," Sam told Tim.
"That's fine. She'll watch the others while you and I go make that phone call." Tim motioned for Sam to come with him. "None of you move while we're gone. She won't hesitate to shoot you." Tim walked over to his wife. "You just keep that gun on them. We won't be long. I'm going to have him get a cell phone and come back here to make the call."
The woman nodded, her tears still falling down her cheeks as she stared at the group sitting beside the wall. "I've got this." She gave him a small smile. "We're doing this for Reggie."
"That's right. We'll get justice for our son." Tim gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Shoot them if they move."
She nodded.
Lance watched as Tim led Sam out of the autopsy room at gunpoint. He prayed nothing bad happened. Sam was smart, but as the head medical examiner, he would feel responsible for all of them. He wished he could tell others that the call for help had already gone out, but since none of them knew about ghosts or Lance's ability to see them, he couldn't tell them about Jeremy. All he could do was wait and do everything he could to make sure they all left here alive.
"Tell me about your son," Brayden, the intern working at the morgue asked the woman. "He was sick?"
"He has interstitial lung disease." She paused and choked back a sob. "I mean, he had it. He was born with underdeveloped lungs, and it's been a fight from day one, but he was doing better. He was off oxygen, and they'd stopped some of his medications. He was at the hospital to have some tests done; x-rays, scans, and such to show us how things were looking. We'd just checked him into the hospital a few hours before this all happened. He was going to have some tests yesterday afternoon, and a couple more this morning. We'd been told if all went well, we could bring him home today." She swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks but kept the gun pointed at them.
"That had to be tough. I don't know a lot about it, but I do know lung issues can be troubling, especially in children." Brayden sounded calm and at ease.
"It has been hard. He's been doing therapy since he was born. We'd finally gotten to the point where he didn't have to have oxygen all the time and we just carried a small canister with us for emergencies. We were going to take him camping for the first time this summer." She shook her head. "You have to find out what killed him."
