I take out my frustrations on the forest. Kicking at rocks and pine cones in my path, scuffing my feet through the dirt. It’s immature, but still…it’s satisfying when I see dirt fly up under my sneakers, or a pine cone goes hurtling through the air in front of me. I’m actually making an impact on something. For once. The darkness swells and surges inside me, wanting release. My pale fingers twitch. I should be in there tormenting him right now.

            The clearing at the edge of the river is hemmed in by thick alder trees, and I push past the leafy branches, the rush of the river in my ears. Sam’s name is already on my lips. When I emerge into the clearing shock freezes me to the spot. There’s a man by the river. A real, living man. He’s facing me, the black lenses of a set of binoculars are pointed right at me. I gasp and stumble backwards, landing hard on my backside in the dirt.

            The man stays perfectly still. He doesn’t laugh at my clumsiness, or train his binoculars down to look at me. He doesn’t move. He can’t see me.

Really, what did I expect? I climb awkwardly to my feet, still on edge, brushing invisible dirt off my clothes.

            Cautiously I edge closer. Something about him is very familiar. The curve of his jaw, several days worth of stubble peppered with grey. The way he stands with his feet spread apart, bracing himself like he’s expecting someone to try to knock him over. I realize who this is before he takes the binoculars away from his face. The anger drops away instantly, replaced by shock.

            “Dad?” My mouth drops open. Why is he here at the river? I turn and look in the direction he’s pointing the binoculars. You can see the house through the trees from here, if you’re standing in the right spot. And maybe if you had magnified vision, then you’d be able to see in the windows too. My heart leaps, and suddenly I have hope again. It’s not likely that he’ll see Caleb doing something suspicious right away, but if he keeps watching…

            Dad snorts. His expression is digested, and I wonder what he’s watching. He probably sees Caleb lounging in front of the TV with his hands in his pants or something. I shift from foot to foot, barely able to contain my excitement. They’re not going to Toronto, it was a trick to throw Caleb off, and Dad’s watching his house. I feel myself swell with pride. My dad, the detective.  Sooner or later something is going to give. He’s going to see Caleb do something. He’ll figure it out somehow. It’s been ages since I’ve been this happy.

            There’s a faint shift in the wind beside me and Sam appears, curiosity written all over his face. “What’s going on. Who’s that?”

            I beam at him, “Sam, meet dad.”

            Sam studies my dad’s face and his eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, I haven’t seen him in forever…” his voice trails off as he takes in the binoculars. “Is he…”

            “Spying,” I say proudly. “He’s onto Caleb. He knows something isn’t right.” I smile at him, so big it makes my face hurt. “Maybe I’ll get to go with you sooner than I thought, if his detective work is good.”

            Sam looks startled, then his smile nearly matches mine. He reaches out and takes my hand. “Let’s hope your dad is a regular Nancy Drew.”

            Even if Dad is on to him now, I’m still going to do my part. This haunting stuff would be way more effective in the dark, but each night Caleb takes Nakia to bed, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot add to her terror. Little things aren’t working now. The lights flickering don’t even seem to bother him anymore.  He simply looks up and shrugs when nothing else happens. Finally that evening I get my chance. Dusk is falling, and Caleb is sleeping on his back on the couch. Nakia is talking to her mother on the phone. I can hear her voice faintly down the hall, high and frustrated. Her mother is asking her for money and Nakia is telling her she doesn’t work every day after school to buy her parents booze. I’d only had the “pleasure” of meeting her parents once, when we were both thirteen. I remember being astonished at how filthy their house was, and balking at the strong fumes of alcohol and unwashed skin whenever her parents came into the room. We’d never gone back to Nakia’s house after that.

            Caleb has fallen asleep watching TV, the screen casting strange blue shadows on his face. I force myself to stand over him, feeling the blood rush to my face, feeling the anger build. My nails bite into the palms of my hands and my chest constricts painfully. Angry tears gather and I tell myself fiercely how much I hate him, how he’s responsible for everything that’s happened to me. Reaching out, I brush one finger across his face. His living skin feels warm under my fingertips. Slowly I crawl onto the couch. Caleb grunts as I slide one knee over him, sitting astride his hips. Memories flash past at the familiar positions, making me flush in anger and shame. He used me in so many ways.

My hands are around his throat now. Squeezing. Crushing the life out of him like I've wanted to do for so long now. Caleb’s eyes snap open. He tries to suck in air. His mouth is open wide, but strangled whimpers are all he can manage. His hands fly up, passing through me as he flails frantically. I can touch him, but he can’t touch me. I laugh out loud, delighted to see him suffer. This feels so good.  His back arches off the couch, lifting me up. His hands claw at his throat, his eyes pop out comically and his mouth gasps endlessly. Caleb’s features are twisting into grotesque parodies of themselves. He is becoming animal, base and afraid. If he could speak right now he wouldn’t be above pleading for his life.

The thought is appealing, and I think about easing up on his neck for a moment. His entire body shudders, jolting me and making me sway, but I squeeze my legs tighter over his hips.

            “Caleb, what…”

            My head whips up at Nakia’s voice. She’s standing in the hallway, face ashen. Anger fails me, and suddenly I’m gone. I can’t touch him any more. Caleb is gasping in relief, sucking in huge lungfuls of air. He turns over and curls his knees to his chest, hugging himself.

            Nakia hesitates then, and I watch her carefully, wondering if she’ll go comfort him. Instead she just stares at him. After a moment she turns and retreats back down the hall. I hear the thunk of her bedroom door shutting.

            Caleb uncurls himself, leaning forward on the couch. My eyes widen as he looks up, looking around the room. Looking for me. When he speaks his voice is gravely. “Watch this, bitch.”

            He gets up, staggering for a second, grabbing the arm of the couch to steady himself. I watch his back as he walks down the hallway. What exactly am I supposed to be watching? He stops, yanking open Nakia’s door. “Come out here, I want to show you something.”

            I frown. Nakia’s quiet voice asks a question, and then Caleb reaches in and yanks her out by the arm. Panic shoots through me as he drags her down the hall. Nakia struggles with him, trying to twist out of his grip, blue eyes wide and scared. But she’s so tiny. She hasn’t got a chance. He marches her into the living room and stands her in the middle, still gripping her arm so tightly that tears are collecting in her eyes.

            “Caleb, you’re hurting me…”

            “Shut up.” Caleb turns away from her, his eyes searching the room, “Listen up, I know you’re here somewhere, watching me. You don’t ever try that shit again. If you do, this happens.” Without warning he whirls around and cracks Nakia across the face with an open handed blow. I scream as she reels backwards, clutching her face in shock. He isn’t stopping though, he’s coming at her again, and this time Caleb plants one hand in the middle of Nakia’s chest and shoves backwards. She falls with a shriek, hitting her shoulder on the coffee table as she goes down.  Her back strikes the hardwood floor and she grunts in pain. Wincing, gasping for air.

            I shriek with anger as Caleb draws his foot back, aiming a kick for her stomach. He pauses, his leg still drawn back, glancing around the room again. “You get it?” he says.

            I know he can’t hear me, but I scream anyways, “I get it! Stop it! Please stop!”

            He  re-aims the kick, striking her in the thigh instead, and Nakia shrieks and curls in on herself. “What are you doing?” Her voice is choked with tears. “Stop it!”

            “You just watch yourself,” Caleb says to her. “Both of you need to watch yourself. But especially you, babe. Since you’re still alive.” He grins down at her, and his smile is more of a death grin, like someone on a fair ride that’s going too fast. Terrified, but determined to hang on.

            “Nothing is changing,” he says. “The job is still on. You’re still my girlfriend.” He looks up again, eyes searching the empty space in front of me. “And this house isn’t haunted anymore.”

            The park across the street is a good place to escape the house. My tether apparently extends to that as well, probably because Sam and I played there as children. The night is cool and there are plenty of bugs out, which probably explains why the park is empty and quiet. Mosquitoes whine past, but of course, they don’t bother me anymore. Tipping my head back, I regard the night sky. The moon hangs low tonight, pocked and round. A werewolf sort of night. I feel like howling myself, torn in half by anger and frustration. How did he know I would care about her? It didn’t even make sense to me that I had forgiven her. But I did, and I did care what happened to her. What he would do to her. I wish I could continue haunting him, and damn the consequences. But I can’t. How did he know?

            The wind gusts through me, and the swing I’m sitting on rocks back and forth with a shriek of rusting chains. I am nothing.  Insubstantial enough to be tossed about by a nighttime breeze. The warmth of anger floods through me again, and I stare narrowly at the house in front of me. All the lights are on, every window blazing brightly. Caleb trying to drive me away with the light again. He is practically carefree now, and Nakia is so scared of him she can barely look him in the eye. It feels like a giant fist is clutching my heart, my breathing is coming sharp and short. The wind stops shaking my swing, and suddenly my feet drag through the gravel. I grin, kicking at the gravel in front of me, letting myself rage. The swing takes me higher and higher, and the wind actually touches me now.  Icy fingers tangling in my hair, whipping it back over my eyes. I can feel the cold chains in my hands. I grip them tightly and bare my teeth at the house. The swing is making violent creaking noises as the rusted chain links rub against one another.

            The door of the house opens, and a crack of light spills across the driveway. Caleb emerges. He’s looking down, zipping up his jacket with one hand. He’s got a pack of beer tucked under one arm. Going to Larry’s house probably. He looks up, hearing the creak of the swing. His eyes go wide, and he moves quickly to his car, jamming his keys into the lock, hands shaking. I can only imagine what he’s seeing. The park across the street: dark and motionless, save one swing. It’s swinging wildly back and forth, chains shrieking madly. It’s tempting to jump off, sending gravel flying and run at him. He’d probably pee his pants.

But I don’t. I just grip the chains even more tightly, until the rusted metal bites into my palms. Nakia is the only thing stopping me. I can’t stand the thought of what else he’ll do to her if I threaten him again.

            So he climbs into his car unscathed. It’s a little satisfying to see how fast he backs out of the driveway, tires squealing. The car even swerves a little bit, he’s so desperate to get away. I sigh and let the swing settle, the motions getting smaller and smaller until I’m barely rocking in the wind, till it’s blowing through me again..

            The police arrive the next morning. I see them first, before Caleb or Nakia notice. They pull into the driveway, gravel popping under their tires, and I watch them both climb out, slamming the doors of the cruiser. Officer Love is talking, I can see his mouth moving, and his brows are drawn down. I slip through the wall and stand on the front porch so I can hear what they’re saying.

            “…take him off guard.” Officer Love’s deep baritone makes me smile. He sounds utterly determined. “I swear that bastard…”

            “Love,” Officer Holt hisses. “You need to approach this from a neutral stand point. You’re letting this case get to you.” They walk up the steps and Holt reaches out and raps sharply on the door. They’re standing so close I could reach out and touch them both.

            “You’re right.” Officer Love pulls something out of his coat pocket, a piece of paper. He unfolds it, smoothing out the wrinkles, and I lean forward, heart in my throat. Red block letters at the top of the page spell out, “MISSING”. Underneath the word is a round faced girl, smiling at the camera with white teeth. Her dark brows are plucked just a bit too thin, and her hair falls in curls over her pale shoulders. It’s me, taken the night of one of the school dances I had attended almost a year ago. Mom had taken that picture before dropping us off at the school. It brings back a flood of memories: Me propping up the wall while Nakia dances with a string of guys, lingering in front of the punch bowl while I pretend to get a refill, hoping that someone will ask me to dance, going home and crying into my pillow. And now, here I am, smiling happily at the camera, all full of hopes and excitement.

            I blink tears back. Footsteps approach the door, and both officers stiffen, pushing their shoulders back, shifting from one leg to the other. Little nervous movements that nobody would notice unless they were looking for them. When the door opens Caleb is standing there. For a moment his face twitches, lips pursing, brows drawing down. Then he’s smoothes the expression away like it was never there. His voice is light and friendly.

            “Officers, pleasure to see you again. What can I do for you?”

            Officer Holt says, “We’d just like to look around, if that’s okay with you.”

            Again, a flash of expression, this time so brief it’s almost nonexistent. Caleb strokes his chin like he’s thinking about it, then he shrugs and opens the door wider. “Of course. Come on in and have a look around. We’ve got nothing to hide.”

            That’s right, I think, you’ve already hid it all. You’ve already chucked my stuff in the garbage and scrubbed my blood off the floor. I drift in after the police, following them into the front hall. They search the bedrooms first, opening drawers and closets, peering underneath the beds. Caleb saunters after them, hands in his pockets. He looks merely amused at the intrusion.

            “Sorry.” Officer Holt tells him as they head toward the kitchen. “Just routine you know.”

            “No worries,” Caleb says.

            He’s trying to look totally relaxed, but a muscle in his jaw twitches from time to time, and I’ll bet the reason he keeps his hands jammed into his pockets are to keep them from shaking.

            “So where’s your roommate?” Officer Love begins opening the cupboards in the kitchen, standing on his tip toes to look in the top ones. “She’s not here?”

            “She’s at school.” Caleb folds his arms across his chest and leans against the counter.

            “How old is she?” Officer Love turns to look at him critically. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

            I catch the look that Holt shoots him, but Officer Love ignores her.

            Caleb just grins. “She’s eighteen.”

            “I see.” The disapproval is evident in his voice, but Love doesn’t say anything else. He straightens up from the last cupboard and nods at his partner.

            “Clear in here.” She nods.

            There is only one room left. The den. My heart is thumping in stereo, filling my ears as I follow them out of the kitchen.  The door is already open, and the officers peer inside before entering.

            “This is your games room?” Officer Love asks.

            “You got it,” Caleb says. The police turn and walk into the room. They can’t see his face anymore, but I can. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. They walk around the room slowly, shoes tapping on the hardwood floor. Officer Holt stares down at the table. Empty beer bottles are collecting on one side, and cards are scattered across the surface. The ashtray in the middle is over flowing, and Holt glances over at Caleb, hooking her thumbs in her belt loop and raising one brow at him. “You smoking a little reefer with your friends?”

            Caleb flinches, and Holt smirks at him. “That stuff is bad for you, you know. Makes you stupid.”

            “Not why we’re here,” Officer Love is hunkered down on the floor, brushing his glove across the floor. He comes up with nothing but dust. Then he places his hands on the floor and lowers himself down until his hooked nose is nearly touching the hardwood and inhales deeply. Caleb looks shocked. Officer Love sits up, resting his arms on his knees. He squints up at Caleb. “Smells like bleach. You bleach your floors, boy?”

            Caleb’s laugh is a little strangled. “I don’t. You’ll have to ask the girl – my roommate. She does the cleaning. There was a lot of booze spilled after the party.”

            “Thought your roommate was eighteen.” Officer Holt seemed to enjoy watching him squirm. “She isn’t drinking at these parties, is she?”

            He shrugs and mumbles something about not knowing, and Love darts an annoyed look at his partner. “Getting off track, aren’t we?”

            She shrugs, looking so casual that I feel like screaming at her. She clearly thinks they’re wasting their time here. She says to Caleb, “Thank you for your time and patience. We’ll get out of your hair now.”

            Love looks irritated, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods at Caleb. I follow them back out of the den and into the front hall, where they tell him thank you again and step out into the fresh air. I glide out after them, just before Caleb shuts the door.

            Love breathes in deeply once they’re outside. “It stinks to high heaven.”

            “What, the bleach?”

            “The case.” He follows her down the driveway towards the squad car. “And the bleach. The bleach adds to it.”

            “So what, the girl cleans the floor. And yes, before you say it, I think you’re right. They’re boinking.”

            “You have such a way with words,” Love grumbles, “but it’s a motive. He wants to be with the roommate, so he kills off the girlfriend. They do it together.”

            “They weren’t married or anything,” Holt scoffs. “Why wouldn’t he just break up with her and date the roommate? That’s a lot less messy. Your theory holds no water.”

            “I think that’s where she was killed,” Love says grimly. “The games room.”

            My heart nearly stops in my chest. He opens the squad car door and I feel desperate to hear what else he’s going to say. He can’t just drive away now!