The conversation with the highest-ranking police officer in Hertford had gone well, all things considered. The man had been honest when he said it was just a matter of routine. Whatever the circumstances of Jonathan Blackthorn's death, they didn't seem to cast any suspicion on the redhead.
However, relief was not what Katherine felt once the conversation ended. No, all she felt was a dull ache for Jonathan's death and a growing suspicion about the vision she'd had the previous night.
Katherine asked her own questions when she had the chance; her need to know more about Jonathan's death overpowered her usual shyness and fear of the police officer. Unfortunately, it made no difference, as the man refused to answer any of her queries. The best she got was, "I can't discuss details of an ongoing investigation."
There were some questions about Lucía, her origins, the content of her conversation with the girl, and especially the incident at Old Tom's pub. But even then, the inspector didn't seem particularly interested in the answers.
"Kat? Katherine, hey, hello." The spectral, raspy voice of Olivia pulled Katherine out of the rabbit hole her mind had become after her talk with Inspector Willingham.
*Ugh*. Glancing at Olivia's dark, lifeless eyes, Katherine let out a sigh of resignation. Death wasn't the end; if anyone knew that, it was her. Jonathan's soul would be in a better place—or so she hoped. They weren't friends, and that was an understatement of the hostile and abusive nature of their relationship, but Katherine wanted to believe the boy would find peace.
"Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind," Katherine finally responded when she managed to piece together a coherent thought amidst the chaos in her head.
"I think I know what you mean," Olivia said, her undead, dry, strangled voice betraying no hint of what the ghost was thinking or feeling.
"Do you?" Katherine asked in surprise, staring at the ghost with wide eyes.
Though hidden behind the curtain of her dark hair, it was safe to assume, from the eerie way Olivia was looking at Katherine, that the ghost raised an eyebrow in mock complaint. "You do know I don't stop existing when I'm not talking to you, right? I overheard some things this morning while I was scaring Mrs. McCall's cats."
The dark, cold void of Olivia's eyes remained fixed on Katherine during her explanation, as though waiting for a reaction. And a reaction came. "Olivia, you promised to stop doing that! Last time, you got those cats to shred Mrs. McCall's sofas, and you almost gave her a heart attack!" Katherine exclaimed, equal parts indignant and astonished.
A macabre grimace, vaguely resembling a smile, appeared on Olivia's face, clearly satisfied with the reaction. "I promised to leave that nasty old woman alone as long as she stopped spreading malicious rumors about you," Olivia said with pride and righteousness.
Katherine already felt a headache coming on from that response. Nothing good ever came from Mrs. McCall gossiping about her, but Olivia's spiteful pranks on the old woman whenever that happened didn't help matters either. Strange occurrences around the elderly woman only reinforced her claims that Katherine was an evil child born of sin and cursed.
Knowing that Olivia hadn't helped improve the situation, Katherine didn't have the strength or the will to scold the ghost for it. After all, she still remembered how this feud between the teenage ghost and the town's gossip had started.
All it took for the ghost to declare a vendetta and an all-out war on the elderly woman was finding Katherine crying alone in the old cemetery after rumors about her supposed mother being a prostitute who abandoned the unwanted product of her sinful life spread through the town.
It was ironic that it was a ghost—the very reason why Katherine was considered the town's weirdo—who defended her when things got really bad due to the rumors, even if Olivia's way of fighting back was to torment the pets of anyone who spoke ill of the redhead.
In the end, all Katherine could do was shake her head in resignation and refuse to comment on her friend beyond the grave latest antics. While many might consider it strange or sad, Katherine didn't regret having Olivia as one of her only friends.
"That reminds me," Olivia said after reveling in her mischief. "You shouldn't be going out alone at night for a while, Kat."
"Uh, why?" the redhead responded, finding the warning odd, especially coming from Olivia, who was usually content being a spectator rather than a director of the theatrical play that was Katherine's life.
If she were capable, Olivia would have adopted a mortally serious expression, but since that was her natural—or supernatural—look depending on whom you asked, she chose the next best option: making her voice extra creepy. "There's something dark in Hertford. I felt it lurking in the woods. You should be careful."
"Something dark," murmured Katherine, echoing Olivia's words. This wasn't the first time the ghost had used this term. Olivia referred to any hostile supernatural entity that way.
As for why she was so vague in describing them? "There are rules. If I interfere too much or say too much, I'll get in trouble." Those were Olivia's exact words. The ghost refused to give any further explanation, and Katherine stopped asking when she realized she wouldn't get anything from her.
"Is it Old Jenkins again?" Kath asked, thinking that was the most likely option, given that the old ghost of the French Revolution had severe memory issues and extreme PTSD, making him the most erratic and violent spirit she'd ever encountered.
Olivia remained silent for a moment, moving her jaw slowly as if savoring the response before giving it, though Katherine knew she was trying in her own way to figure out whether she could respond.
"It's not something you've met before," the ghost finally said. A definitive answer that eliminated many suspects but left endless possibilities and gave no significant information about what this dark thing might be.
"That's probably the only answer she can give me," Katherine thought, knowing that if she could, Olivia would have said more. While it didn't help her current situation much, the redhead could at least rule out some suspects.
"Old Jenkins, the woman in the lake, and the psychiatrist are probably still where they always are—and that's exactly where I want them to stay." Just thinking about the three usual suspects sent equal parts disgust and terror coursing through Katherine.
If possible, she didn't want to deal with any of the three ghosts even if she were given a water gun filled with holy water. That's how bad her experiences had been dealing with them when she met them—especially the psychiatrist, who was by far the cruelest and most malevolent ghost she had ever encountered.
At least Old Jenkins had a reason for being the way he was, as did the woman in the lake, who was, to begin with, the least dangerous of the three as long as you didn't approach her lair. The psychiatrist, on the other hand, was simply the soul of someone whose evil transcended death.
Katherine shook her head firmly, trying to push the macabre man out of her thoughts. She had better things to think about and other problems to deal with. In fact, she had a meeting to attend—a meeting with people in the realm of the living, for a change... well, mostly.
"Is my life ever going to be normal?" The question came unbidden to her mind, but Katherine already knew the answer. So she resigned herself to taking things one step at a time, with one foot in the realm of the living and the other in the realm of the dead.