Stone Cold

Chapter 1

***DISCLAIMER: This story has already been published; if you would like to read the full novel, please find it on Amazon or at www.jeanconnolly.com. I will be publishing more free chapters.***

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I looked into the teen's brown eyes and he smiled at me, his eyes lighting up. Dead boys weren't supposed to smile, or even move for that matter, but he did. He moved right through my realtor, who merely shivered in response.

"Did someone install air conditioning in here?" she asked, looking around at the walls for the thermostat.

"I didn't feel anything," I replied, averting my eyes from the ghost who kept getting in my face to get my attention. I felt anger and irritated energy radiating from him. The temperature dropped.

"So, what do you think?"

"I don't know." I frowned around the cramped, empty space. "It's really small. Everything is going to clutter, and I was already iffy about it because I don't want to make a big commute to work."

"So this is a no? Alright, let's go then. It's freezing in here."

"Do you mind if I make a quick call? Thanks, it'll only be a minute."

Bethany stepped outside and I turned to face the ghost. They still had the ability to startle me, no matter how many times they visited.

"Who are you?"

The ghost smiled again, excited that I was giving him the attention he sought. This wasn't the first time a ghost had come to me for help, after realizing I could see them. Most of the dead who know that they've died are very upset, sad and lonely, and for good reason. People who stick around as ghosts usually haven't had very pleasant deaths. I hoped his hadn't been too violent. Maybe he simply wasn't ready to leave his family.

"Can you talk?" I whispered, not wanting to startle him.

He shook his head.

"Did you die here?"

He shook his head again, and then disappeared.

I sighed in annoyance and walked out of the office into the bright but fading sun. "I think we can call it quits for today," I said, squinting at Bethany. "We can look at some more offices next week. Thanks for your help."

Bethany shook my hand. "No problem, Ms. Kennedy. It's my job. Just email me later to let me know what time you want to start looking again."

"I will," I replied as I stepped into my Camry. It wasn't the fanciest car in the world, but it ran like a champ. The light blue paint was turning grey and peeling, the heater didn't work and the doors squeaked, but it was reliable.

After turning onto the main road, I rolled the front windows down so I could stick my hand out into the chilled wind. I realized that I could see ghosts from an early age, once I found out what they were. I hadn't realized that some of my imaginary friends weren't so imaginary after all. They looked real enough, but that's how some ghosts were. Their appearance depended on their emotional state and who was communicating with them. Some people could only hear or feel them. I could do both.

I had trouble dealing with my rare gift, especially since neither my mother nor my sister could see them. As far as I knew there was no history of psychics or clairvoyants in our bloodline, so there was no logical explanation for my gift. Years ago, thinking I was crazy, I spoke to experts. The majority of them had told me to ignore the ghosts and simply let them pass on. But if they come to me, they obviously need help, right? And why not use my superpowers for good instead of not at all?