Chasing Happy Read online

  The bell attached to the door of the store chimed happily when it opened. Jay jumped up and walked away to greet his customer. Rosie surreptitiously looked away and wiped the tears from her eyes.

  While he showed someone to the case of crystals, she grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. When she looked up, Dallas was sauntering down the sidewalk.

  Her first instinct was to hide so he wouldn’t see her but she never got the chance.

  He caught sight of her and stopped in his tracks. Through the plate glass he smiled at her waved at her to come outside.

  “Friend of yours?” Jay asked.

  “Not really,” Rosie answered.

  “You sure?”

  “Not really,” she repeated.

  "Well, we can pick up where we left of tomorrow if that works for you," He said with a smile. “If we have time, you can tell me about your not really friend.”

  "Maybe.” She shook his outstretched hand. "Thank you."

  "Anytime, Happy."

  She stilled, her eyes flying to his face.

  "Just the word," he told her. "Big, bright, bold, every time we touch." She quickly pulled her hand away and he laughed. "Well you can't undo it now."

  Rosie fled the store and met Dallas on the sidewalk.

  “Getting your mumbo jumbo freakster on in there?” He asked. The look on his face was pure mischief and she laughed.

  “Maybe.”

  “Cool.” He squinted down at her. “How’s the face?”

  “Scabby.”

  “Told you not to ride out there at night. It’s dangerous.” He turned and pointed at her bike. “Want a ride back to your place?”

  “Sure,” she answered. Knowing Dallas, he probably wouldn’t listen if she told him no anyway.

  “I’m headed out to Max’s anyway.” He grabbed the handlebars of her bike and began steering towards a pickup truck. “Unless you want me to just drop you off with him.” He sent her a wink.

  “What’s that mean?” She asked as she climbed in his truck and he took off toward her place.

  “Nothing,” he said evasively. “Just heard you and Max are circling each other."

  She let out a loud laugh. "You make us sound like the Sharks and the Jets."

  "Who the hell are they?"

  "Nevermind." She shook her head. "We aren't circling each other."

  "Oh." He looked over at her. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

  She crossed her arms over her chest. "This morning."

  It was his turn to laugh. "Uh huh. Definitely keeping your distance." She didn't respond. "I'm just kidding, Rosie. Max is my best friend, you could do a lot worse."

  “We aren't circling each other. Max and I are friends." That was questionable with the way the morning had ended.

  After a few more ribbing jests Dallas pulled up to her camper and helped get her bike out of the back.

  "You all good?" He asked.

  "Thanks for the ride. You know," she smiled at him. "When you aren't being an ass, you're actually a nice guy."

  His face fell. "Don't tell anyone that."

  12

  All evening Rosie thought about the things she and Jay talked about. Though she'd always had the ability to see spirits and auras, they had intensified later in life, as had her knack for knowing things about people without them telling her. She hadn’t said it to him but, much like Jay's gifts being triggered by an accident, hers were also the result of a traumatic incident

  As a child, her mother had been charged with possession of a controlled substance, prostitution, neglect and endangering the welfare of a child. It struck her as strange that her mother had been sent to jail for neglecting her and then the state sent her to a foster care system that did the same thing. Home after home, some rejecting her after a few days, some she'd run from herself. Not until Butch and Erin Hardy offered to take her in did she finally think she’d found a stable home.

  Years later, when her mother was released from jail, Rosie had been sent to live with her again. Things had been okay at first and after a tentative getting to know each other period they tried to learn how to live together again.

  When she’d talked about the things she saw, her mother screamed about the devil controlling her mind. There’d been a series of punishments that involved being locked in a closet and having her mother's red hot crucifix branded to her chest.

  Still, Rosie refused to lie and tell her mother what she wanted to hear.

  One night her mother had raged and come at her with fists flying. Rosie could still smell the candles her mother burned as the rain tapped on the windows. She could still feel the carpet pile shifting under her neck as her mother pressed her down and she fought wildly for her life. The weight on her stomach as her mother straddled her, hands around her daughter’s throat, squeezing until the screams died and there was nothing but a black abyss.

  Rosie had woken the following day, strapped to a hospital bed, and like Jay, could see things she didn't want to see. Auras surrounded her, billowing from everyone that came in her room. Every time someone came in her room Rosie was blasted with a laundry list of patient care needs, family schedules, and money woes. She somehow knew her doctor was planning to play a round of golf after work and that his daughter's bedroom was painted a sunny yellow. She knew their mother's names and where they born and how they liked their coffee.

  Whatever her mother had done to her, whatever she’d seen on the other side, had changed her for good.

  She was looking forward to talking with Jay again and felt almost hopeful about clearing up whatever was blocking her energy.

  Rosie had taken to tying her wrist to the bed frame, in hopes of preventing her from sleep walking. The first few times it hadn't worked but she'd started using more complicated knots and it seemed to do the trick. She went to bed eager to wake up and start the new day.

  She was standing in the middle of Butch Hardy’s precinct.

  She remembered the blue and cream colored tiles on the wall.

  It was empty, which she’d never seen before, the lights low, their persistent buzz absent. She took the few steps to Butch’s desk. As usual, it was littered with coffee mugs and empty antacid tubes. There was a picture of Butch, Erin and little Michael.

  There had never been a picture taken with her and Michael. She’d only met him a handful of times, Erin was well and tired of the ghost show and Happy was long gone by the time he was born.

  “Who brought me here?” She asked the empty room.

  “I did,” a woman’s voice came from the darkness.

  Rosie stained to see into the void. “Where are you?”

  Rosie took a step back when a woman stepped out of the shadows.

  A few years older than Rosie, the woman was dressed in jeans and a sweater. Familiar clear blue eyes stared back at her, as though she was looking in a mirror. Even the woman’s hair was the same shade Rosie’s had been before it had changed.

  “You’re me,” Rosie breathed, taking another step back.

  She shook her head. “You’re Happy. I’m Toby.”

  “Rosie,” she corrected automatically.

  “Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “You brought me here, didn’t you?” Rosie asked. “Who are you?”

  Toby casually walked to Butch’s desk and ran her fingers across the surface. “You sat here once.”

  Rosie thought back to the day her mother was arrested. She’d sat right where the other woman was sitting.

  “I did. I liked it here,” she admitted.

  “I imagine it felt safe here, far more than where you’d been.” She looked up at Rosie through her lashes. “You were lucky to get away from her when you did.”

  “Who? My mom?”

  “She would have tried to ruin you.”

  “She did ruin me, just later than she would have liked.”

  The woman shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “No. You’re better off than you think, Ha
ppy. I’ll be coming for you soon.”

  Rosie tilted her head, confusion etching a line across her forehead. “You’re the one coming for me?”

  “Not now.” Toby smiled. “He needs you first. I’ll come later. Close your eyes.”

  Rosie did, the idea of not trusting her never entered Rosie’s mind. It was a dream after all.

  “You have to go now,” the stranger said.

  Rosie opened her eyes and stood in Max’s living room. He was sleeping on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table, the TV on quietly in the background.

  Rosie was startled when Max’s dog friend barked loudly at the door.

  “You have to go now,” Toby repeated.

  “Go where?”

  “You can’t be late.”

  Rosie clenched her fists. “Where am I supposed to go?”

  “Don’t be late.”

  Before she could respond there was a rumble, like an earthquake beneath her feet. She turned to see a ball of flames coming at her. The heat was incredible and her skin blistered and peeled as the fire rocketed directly through her.

  Her eyes snapped open as she shot up off the bed, the heat from the explosion still on her skin.

  Max.

  She had to get to Max.

  She let out a startled scream when the dog appeared inside her camper. It paced from the bed to the door, and back again, barking all the while. It stopped at the door, barked and ran back to her, only to bark again.

  It barked one last time then ran straight through the door to the outside. Rosie untied her wrist, and threw on her jeans and a sweatshirt. She opened the door, the dog running from the camper to her bike, barking.

  This was Max’s spirit guide. It stayed with Max all the time. If it was here, trying to get her attention, it was only because there was something wrong with Max. The dog’s appearance, in addition to her dream, instilled a sense of urgency that made her rush as if Max’s life depended on it.

  “Is it Max?” She asked. If anything, the dog went even more berserk and ran down the driveway toward the road. Rosie ran to her bike, flipped on the flashlight attached the handlebars and followed.

  The more the dog barked the faster Rosie pedaled.

  There were no cars on the road and she made it to Max’s, skidding into the driveway. She followed the dog up the porch steps and it ran through the front door, then stood in the entryway barking at her through the glass. Pressing her face to the door, hands cupped around her eyes, Rosie searched for Max. The light from the TV lit the living room and she could see his boots resting on the coffee table. She pounded on the door, hoping she could get his attention. What she would say to him when he answered the door, she didn’t know.

  The dog was barking at Max, then running back to bark at her. Max didn’t move at all. She used the flat of her hand to bang on the glass this time calling his name, making more of a racket and still, Max’s boots were unmoving.

  “Shit,” she muttered, trying the doorknob.

  Locked, of course. Panicked, she tried a few windows but when she caught sight of Max, unresponsive in the living room, she went into full on rescue mode. Using her elbow, she closed her eyes and broke the glass on the front door.

  “Max!” She yelled as she ran straight to him.

  The dog continued to bark and ran from her to the front door and back again, telling her to get out of the house. She pushed away all thoughts of the house going up in a fireball and concentrated on getting Max up and out.

  “Max, can you hear me?” She yelled, shaking his shoulder. He looked as though he was peacefully sleeping, yet no amount of yelling would wake him.

  That was when terror set in.

  He couldn’t die, she wouldn’t let him.

  He was too funny. Too caring and sexy to be on the other side, beyond her reach. There was no way she was letting him die and if his damn dog wanted him out of the house, then she was going to get him out of the house.

  She stood on the couch and put her arms under him from behind and pulled. She dragged him, one painful step at a time, out of that damn house.

  Her breathing was ragged and her legs were on fire but she got him, gently even, down the porch stairs and well away from the house in case it did explode.

  She groped in Max’s pocket and sucked in a breath when she found his cell phone. She swiped the screen and stared for a second.

  It was a picture of her holding the lamb.

  She’d deal with that later. Going into the contacts she pulled up Dallas’s number but he didn’t answer, so she hung up and dialed again. And then again. On the fourth try he answered.

  “Jesus, Max, I’m a little busy,”

  “It’s Rosie. There’s something wrong with Max! Come quick! Help!”

  She could hear the change in Dallas’ voice immediately. “Where are you?”

  “Max’s. I followed the dog and Max is here but he won’t wake up.” Her rambling sounded panicked even to her own mind.

  “I’ll call for help and call you right back okay. I’m across town so it’ll take me a minute to get to you.”

  “You have to help him. He won’t wake up.”

  “I’ll call you right back, Rosie. Just stay with him.”

  “Okay,” she whispered as he hung up. She sat on her butt and pulled Max’s head into her lap.

  “Wake up, Max. Please.” She ran her shaking fingers through his hair and talked to him, hoping he’d wake up.

  He was breathing well, she could see that easily enough, but he wasn’t waking up. She kept her eyes glued to the phone in her hand waiting for Dallas to call her back.

  It was a few minutes before he finally did.

  “He’s still not awake,” she said by way of answering.

  “Shit,” he said quietly. “I called it in. The fire department’s worried about carbon monoxide. Do you hear any alarms going off?”

  She shook her head and then realized he couldn’t see her. “No.”

  “Everyone’s on their way, Rosie. They shouldn’t be long. Talk to me.”

  “I just want him to wake up.” It came out on a sob.

  “I know. Me too.” His voice was calm and even. “Tell me what happened.”

  She took a deep breath. “He just looked like he was sleeping on the couch but didn’t move when I knocked on the door.”

  “And you just stopped by at two in the morning?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Max!” She called again.

  This time he let out a deep moan and winced at her voice.

  “I think he’s waking up,” she told Dallas.

  “Oh, thank God,” Dallas breathed in her ear. “Keep trying to get him awake. I’ll be there soon.”

  She hung up and concentrated on Max.

  Still stroking his hair, she leaned her face close to his. “Max. Can you hear me?”

  “Rosie?” He whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “What happened to you?”

  “Huh?” He opened his eyes then slammed them shut.

  “I can see the lights, Max. They’re coming to help you, okay. Just hang on for me.”

  She was surprised at the sheer number of people that poured out of the fire trucks and ambulances. Suddenly it went from she and Max and a ghost dog to the three of them plus twenty.

  The EMTs ran over. “What’ve we got?” One asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said desperately as she relayed the story about finding him unresponsive.

  “Let’s get him on one hundred percent oxygen.”

  They went to work while the fire department went into the house.

  Rosie stood and took a few steps back, giving them room to work. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and didn’t take her eyes off him. They poked and prodded him and checked his vitals numerous times. He started to come around after a few minutes, complaining of nausea and a headache.

  When he finally opened his eyes to look at the medics, Rosie took an instinctive step further into the da
rkness.

  “We’ve got seriously dangerous CO2 levels here,” a fireman told the EMTs when he came out of the house.

  “We’re going to transport to the hospital, then.”

  “We’ll get the house taken care of and wait for the PD here.”

  Dallas’ truck screeched into the driveway and he ran to Max’s side. Rosie took another step back, deeper into the shadows.

  Dallas would ask questions. He’d want to know what she was doing here or why she was knocking on the door so late. She couldn’t answer those questions. She could barely stand there while they wheeled Max to the ambulance. She wanted to go with him. She wanted to hold his hand and be there for him.

  But she didn’t know how.

  “Max!” Dallas came running to the ambulance.

  “He’s going to have to get to the hospital, Hunter. Are you in or out?” The EMT asked.

  “In.” Dallas didn’t hesitate.

  They pushed Max’s gurney into the ambulance and went to close the doors. Dallas’ head shot up and he grabbed the door, stopping it.

  “Rosie?” He yelled, looking around the yard. He looked right past the shadow she was standing in and yelled again. She stood stock still not daring to move. He shook his head and sat back down, the door closing on his face. As they drove away, Rosie skulked through the darkness all the way home.

  She wished she had the courage to jump in that ambulance with Max. She liked him, she truly did. When she was with him she felt safe. Being with him made her feel normal.

  She’d had acquaintances the last few years but those relationships had all been on the surface. The way she felt about the people she’d met in Jacob’s Beach was so much more than that. The way they made her feel was as close to whole than she’d been in her entire life, like maybe she belonged somewhere.

  Wendy may have pestered her until she’d given in, but deep down, she’d never regret it. Wendy was strong and independent, yet fun and bit brash.

  Max had an inviting energy surrounding him. Everything he did and said had an underlying current behind it that made her feel welcome. She felt at home when he asked her to have lunch with him. She felt welcome to be herself and even let go a little bit.

  Even Dallas, who she didn’t know well, seemed to be of the belief that they were friends by proxy, because she was friends with Wendy.