Read Online Beyond the Grave by Mara Purnhagen - Free Book Online Page A

night, after Dad had retreated to his room, I reached under my bed and pulled out the box of paranormal supplies I kept there. I would not give up, I vowed. I could make something happen if I invested my energy and concentrated hard enough. As I retrieved the tools I wanted to use, my bracelet clinked against them. I carefully unclasped it and set it on my nightstand.
    I was turning on the K2 EMF reader when my cell phone buzzed. It was Annalise.
    â€œYou’re up late,” I said, glancing at the bedside clock. It was past midnight.
    â€œI figured you’d be up.” My sister yawned. “I wanted to hear all about your first day at college.”
    I filled her in quickly, having regurgitated the boring details to Dad and Shane and Trisha over dinner earlier. Then I had endured endless wedding talk, a topic that I was beyond being sick of. I’d wondered how Trisha could even make all these plans and decisions when no date had been set. I couldn’t listen to one more conversation about the pros and cons of blowing bubbles instead of throwing confetti at the happy couple after they recited their vows.
    While I talked to Annalise, I kept my eyes on the EMF reader. One green light showed that it was operational, and I was hoping at least one more would illuminate. I thought I saw a second light flicker.
    â€œSounds nice,” Annalise said. “So, have you been to see Mom yet?”
    So that’s why she was really calling. I should have known it was a trap. “Not yet.”
    â€œBut you’ll go soon, right? You promised.”
    â€œYes, I’ll go soon.”
    Annalise picked up on the irritation in my voice. “I’m not trying to nag,” she said. “But I think it would be good—for both of you.”
    It would also be good for both of us if I could get back to work. True spiritual help might be waiting for the right time to intercede, and chatting about school with my sister was holding me back from finding a possible answer.
    â€œI said I would and I meant it.” I was tired of the conversation.
    â€œOkay. You promised, and that’s enough for me. I’ll let you go. Good night, Charlotte.”
    â€œâ€™Night, Annalise.”
    I returned to the EMF reader, convinced that I had seen a second light blink. I stared at the gray box, focused on seeing another bulb come to life.
    And it happened.
    A second green light, followed by the yellow and orange. Then the last red light was glowing, and I knew I was not alone.
    I fumbled for my digital recorder, desperate to make contact. “Hello? Is anyone here? Can you hear me?” I was talking faster than I should have. I knew I was supposed to pause after asking each question so that if something was there, it would have a chance to respond. I took a deep breath, held the recorder away from me and started over.
    â€œMy name is Charlotte. I need help. Can you help me?”
    This time, I waited a few seconds before continuing. The lights were still on, although the red light flickered a little. “Can you help my mom?”
    Can she be helped? I almost asked, but I didn’t, because I wouldn’t be able to bear the wrong answer.
    Another minute passed. The lights went out, leaving only a single green bulb shining. Whatever had been with me was now gone. I turned off the EMF reader, rewound my digital recorder and hit Play. I held the recorder to my ear and kept my breath still.
    Can you help me? my voice asked.
    And the reply, soft but clear even though it was enveloped in static: I will keep trying.

six
    Bliss was right: our school had a great salad bar. It covered one side of the huge cafeteria and boasted three kinds of lettuce, ten dressings and every kind of topping you could possibly want, including strips of smoked turkey and chunks of imitation crabmeat. I piled hard-boiled eggs, croutons and red onions on top of a heap of romaine, drenched it with a generous ladleful of ranch