The Spirit Girls

THE SPIRIT GIRLS A TOTALLY GRIPPING PARANORMAL MYSTERY A RYLAN FLYNN MYSTERY BOOK 1 DAWN MERRIMAN BOOKS BY DAWN MERRIMAN Rylan Flynn Mystery Series The Spirit Girls CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Hear More from Dawn Books by Dawn Merriman A Letter from Dawn Acknowledgments This book is dedicated to my husband, Kevin. Thank you for all your help and your constant support. ONE RYLAN FLYNN I should be afraid, but I’m not. The shadow figure stands at the end of the hall, her face turned away from me. The exit sign above her glows red in the moonlight. Doors line the hallway, leading to patient rooms in the abandoned hospital. One of them slams shut; no one is near it. Dust sifts down from the ceiling, and the sound echoes through the old building. “I know you’re upset, but we are not here to hurt you,” I tell the figure. Another door slams and the figure moves closer. No feet are visible, but I can hear the footsteps. Behind me, I hear Mickey, my assistant with the camera, gasp as the shadow looms close to my face. “I can hear the steps,” she whispers. “She’s right in front of me,” I tell her. “Keep filming.” A hand reaches for my face. Every instinct tells me I should be terrified, but I’m more curious. “What do you need?” I ask the figure. The woman’s face peeks out behind long hair. The mouth is drawn and the eyes are dark. She touches my face and my skin grows cold. “You can see me?” she asks. I nod, fighting the urge to pull my face away. I don’t want to startle her or she will disappear. “This place, it isn’t nice like they said it would be.” Her voice is so full of sorrow, it nearly breaks my heart. In my line of work, they are always sad stories. Those with happy endings don’t stick around for me to see. “I’m so sorry you went through that,” I tell her. The ghost drops her hand and turns away. “Nothing to do about it now.” “I can help you leave here,” I call after her. She turns and pushes her hair back, revealing the slice in her throat. I try not to flinch, but she sees the shift in my expression. “Now you see. I did this.” She points to her neck. “If I leave here, I don’t want to see where I’ll go.” “I can help you,” I repeat. “Silly girl, I’m beyond help.” She flicks her wrist and another door slams. This time, I jump at the sound, making my charm bracelet jangle. The woman disappears into the shadows again. “Did you get all that?” I ask Mickey, breathless from the encounter. “I got your side of the conversation. And the doors slamming, of course. Try moving over toward that door that just closed. Yeah, right there.” I take a breath. I sometimes forget that I’m the only one that can see them. Putting on a smile, I turn toward the camera. “This is Rylan Flynn with Beyond the Dead Investigations. I just had the most amazing encounter.” A crash from the first floor of the hospital interrupts my sign-off. “Rylan? Are you up there?” I sigh, recognizing the voice shouting my name as Officer Frazier of the Ashby, Indiana, police department. He is not a fan of our YouTube show. Mickey lowers the camera. “Busted.” “Frazier, you ruined the shot,” I shout through the hospital corridor, my voice echoing down the stairs. Real footsteps storm closer as Officer Frazier comes round the corner. I half expect him to be holding his gun, but he only has a flashlight. It is bright in my eyes. I can’t see his face, but I’m sure he is fuming. “When I got the call that someone was snooping around this old place, I knew it would be you two. Filming again? You know you can’t trespass here.” “She actually talked to her tonight,” Mickey gushes. Frazier turns his light on Mickey, then snaps back in my direction. I hold up a hand to the piercing beam. “Can you put that thing away? There’s plenty of moonlight in here.” He switches the flashlight off and dark spots dance in my vision. “Did you really talk to the Morton Mistress?” The sarcasm is heavy when he says the name of the legendary ghost that haunts the Morton Mental Hospital on the edge of Ashby. “I’m sure your viewers will fall for this hoax, but I won’t.” “It’s not a hoax,” Mickey says. “She really did. I saw it.” “You saw the ghost?” he asks her. “Well, no. But I heard her footsteps. And she slammed the doors.” “Uh-huh.” There’s not a sliver of belief in his voice. “Keep telling yourself that. Now, get your camera and get out of here before I haul you in for trespassing.” Mickey huffs. “She really saw her.” I put a hand on my friend’s arm. “It’s okay, Mickey. If Officer Frazier doesn’t believe, that is his problem.” “But you talked to her. I saw it.” Frazier’s glare is sharp, even in the darkness. “I know. Come on, let’s get out of here.” I follow Mickey down the dark stairs, Frazier so close behind me I can smell his cloying cologne. I’m thankful for the fresh air as we exit the heavy doors. Huge trees sway on the wide front lawn, dancing in the moonlight. We step out under a canopy of stars. “They really need to lock this place up,” Frazier says, as he makes sure the door is shut