Disclaimer: I own nothing from Ghost Whisperer except the idea for this story.
A/N Thanks to Veritas Found for beta-ing this story. Sorry I haven't updated earlier. I've been in hospital and been busing with uni but here's an update now...
Hauntings
Chapter 3
The door opened, rattling the brass bell above the door of Same As It Never Was.
"I'll be with you in a minute," Delia called from the back of the shop. She popped her head around the open double doors.
"Melinda, hi. I didn't expect you to be at work today. I thought Jim was going to keep you at home for a couple of days," she said, surprised.
"Hi, Delia. Hi, Ned," Melinda greeted as Ned walked out from the back room after his mother. "He tried, but I convinced him to let me go back to work. Speaking of which, how did you rope Ned into all of this?"
"Mom promised me I could go to a concert with Jennifer, only if I would come in and help while you weren't here. But since you are here, I don't have to be," he said, looking at Delia meaningfully.
"Nuh-uh mister," Delia answered. "You can stay and help for the rest of the day."
Melinda laughed at the sight of Ned's face.
"Don't worry, Ned. I won't work you too hard," she promised. "Unlike your mother."
"Hey!" exclaimed Delia. Ned and Melinda laughed.
Lunch passed without any major events or dramas happening. Ned cleaned the store's windows while Delia and Melinda, in between serving customers, unpacked the new stock that had arrived when Melinda was in hospital.
"This is the last of the boxes," Melinda said, walking into the main store area. She held up two empty boxes and proceeded to fold them for recycling. Delia placed the last photo frame on the shelf as an old couple walked through the door.
"Can I help you?" Delia asked politely. The couple shook their heads.
"We're just looking, thanks," the man replied. Melinda dropped the boxes she was folding and grabbed a hold of the counter top, placing a hand on her stomach.
"Who are you?" Melinda whispered as she noticed the drugged woman from the side of the road. The spirit ignored Melinda and continued to stumble drunkenly around the shop. She knocked a pillow and a glass vase with freshly picked flowers to the floor. Delia, oblivious to the spirit wreaking havoc, continued to serve the old couple.
Every step the spirit took, made Melinda dizzier and more nauseous. Melinda's vision clouded over and she slumped to the floor with a thump. After saying goodbye to the old couple, Delia looked over to where Melinda previously stood, where she found her friend lying on the floor.
"Melinda! Ned, go and get Jim. He should be at the firehouse," Delia ordered. Ned took off out of the shop and towards the firehouse.
"Jim! Jim!" he yelled. Ned saw Jim step out from behind a firetruck.
"Melinda's fainted," he continued breathlessly. Jim grabbed his medical bag and together they raced across the square to Melinda's antique shop. Jim arrived to see Melinda sitting on the couch, looking no worse for wear.
"Melinda," he said, some of the worry showing in his voice. He crouched down to be face to face with her. "What happened?"
"The same ghost from the accident was back," Melinda answered simply. "Tilly, I think she said her name was. She looked like she was looking for something, but I don't think she knew what it was. She kept on walking into things, going around in circles but never getting anywhere."
Melinda looked up to see that someone else had joined the group.
"Mackenzie's back," warned Melinda in a low voice. Delia and Ned both looked around while Jim stayed where he was.
"Do you remember anything more?" Melinda asked. Mackenzie's hands were still bound, but there was less dirt covering her now.
"It…it was dark. I remember a man's voice and the scrape of a tray being pushed along the ground. I remember screaming, but I knew it was no use. The walls were soundproof," Mackenzie said reproachfully.
"Mackenzie said the walls were soundproof," Melinda translated.
"I don't know how long I was there but..."
"...but she remembers eating and then waking up, feeling cold and damp."
"I..."
"She couldn't move. Her hands were bound and a black, braided collar was choking her," Melinda finished. Just then Melinda's phone began ringing.
"Hello? Hi, Rick. What? Thank you. I'll be there soon," she said. Jim coughed loudly. Melinda rolled her eyes.
"Fine," she mouthed to Jim. "Can you come round tonight then?"
Rick made a comment that caused Melinda to glare at the phone.
"All right, fine. See you then. Bye," she said, hanging up.
"Rick found the meaning behind the black braided collars. He said, though, that he won't tell us 'til tonight," Melinda explained to both alive and dead people. Mackenzie nodded silently then disappeared.
"Figures," muttered Delia. Jim closed his bag with a snap.
"I have to go back to work, but, Delia, can you make sure Mel gets home safely?" Jim asked.
"Of course," replied Delia. Melinda threw up her hands.
"What am I? An imbecile? I'll be fine," Melinda grumbled.
"Delia?" Jim pressed.
"She'll be fine, I promise," Delia said. Jim left with a kiss for Melinda and a wave for Ned and Delia. As soon as Jim left, Delia clapped her hands.
"Home time," she said. "Ned, switch off the lights while I lock up. Mel, you stay put."
'Hopefully it won't be as bad tomorrow,' Melinda thought with a frown, waiting on the couch.
That night, Melinda placed the last of the salad into a bowl. She threw in a couple of cherry tomatoes, then carried the bowl into the dining room where Jim was placing plates and forks. Melinda did a double take.
"Wait, there are three places set. Who else is coming?" Melinda asked. Jim pretended to lock his lips and throw away the key.
"That would ruin the surprise now, wouldn't it?" Jim teased. Melinda pouted and wrapped her arms around Jim's body.
"Please?" she begged, fluttering she eyelashes at him.
"Nope. Now, do you want to get changed first or shall I?" Jim asked, gesturing upstairs. Melinda didn't hesitate.
"Race you," she challenged, running up the stairs. He took off after her, catching her at the top of the landing. Melinda squealed and shimmied out of Jim's grasp.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked in mock-anger before laughing. Jim looked at the clock.
"He's not going to be here for..." Jim cursed; he wasn't supposed to say that. Melinda's face lit up.
"He – you said he," she cried gleefully. Melinda thought for a second. "Rick. But I told him to come here after dinner...unless you called him to say come to dinner. So that's why you were up here being all secretive on the phone."
Jim sighed then sat down.
"Yes, and it was supposed to be a surprise," he said. Melinda climbed onto the bed and over to where Jim was sitting. She leant in and kissed him on the lips.
"It was a good surprise while it lasted," Melinda whispered seductively. Jim kissed Melinda back more forcefully.
"Well, if you don't mind not having long to get ready..." Jim started to tug at Melinda's shirt. "I'll help you get changed..."
Melinda sat on the couch flipping through a magazine. Jim, after pouring a drink for Melinda and himself, checked on the lasagna in the oven. Mackenzie, who had appeared when Jim walked into the kitchen, peered over Melinda's shoulder.
"Those are nice shoes," she commented. Her hands were no longer bound but she was still dirt-smudged. Melinda grinned and continued flipping through the magazine.
"Dinner's done," he said, coming into the living room carrying two glasses. Melinda thanked him with a kiss. Then a knock at the door caused Melinda and Jim to look at each other.
"You get it, honey," Jim offered. Melinda stood up only to fall back down again. Jim's face flashed concern.
"I'm all right," Melinda said, waving a hand at Jim. She breathed in deeply.
"Tilly has decided to drop by," she explained. Someone knocked on the door again, this time more forcefully. "You better get that."
Jim glanced back at Melinda before going to let an impatient Professor Payne inside.
"You have to stop this," Melinda hissed to Tilly. "I can't help if you keep making me feel like this."
Melinda's dizziness subsided slightly as Tilly disappeared. Jim and Rick walked into the room to see Melinda having a seemingly one-side conversation. Melinda turned towards the two men.
"Hi Rick," she greeted eagerly. "So, did you find anything about the black, braided collars?"
"Don't be any more subtle," Rick commented, looking slightly taken aback. Melinda made a face.
She waited a moment then asked, "So? Did you?"
"Well, there is some really interesting history behind those collars. For example, an ancient tribe in the early ages used them as a sign of slavery for their servants. There was actually a man who still had an original braided collar that his great, great grandfather wore..." he said, starting on a tangent.
"Rick," Melinda said quietly.
"Right, sorry. So, they were used as signs of slavery – except different colors actually represented the different statuses among the slaves. Brown was for the everyday slaves, red for the sex slaves, blue for the cook slaves, and black...black was for the slaves condemned to death. These were slaves who usually angered their masters and mistresses," Rick continued. Melinda and Jim shared a look.
"So, why would our killer be using these slave collars?" Jim mused.
"Mackenzie said something about being kept in confinement for a period of time before food was handed out – which was most likely drugged since that is the last thing she remembers before dying," Melinda explained.
"Another thing this tribe liked was fancy deaths. The more horrible, the better – so someone who died in a fire was higher ranked then, say, someone who died in their sleep," Rick said, mistaking the look of disgust on the couple's face for one of fascination.
"But that still doesn't explain why," Jim said.
"Maybe it's not 'why is he using the collars' – maybe it's 'why is he killing in the first place'," Rick wondered.
"I think I can answer that," another voice replied.
Tell me what you think
Monkeywand
