Born on the 4th of July - Heather Graham Pozzessere Page 0,3

I’m going to be dead, I am dead. I’ve been dead a decade. But I could . . . I sensed something in you and . . . oh, dear Lord, can you see me, hear me?”

“Yes, sir, I see you clearly. And I hear your every word.”

“Oh, thank God!”

“What’s wrong, sir?”

“You have to help me. My daughter, my poor, beautiful daughter. She’s like you—well, no, she doesn’t look like you, but she’s expecting any day now, has a great husband, and he’s beside himself. He’s with the police, but they won’t even accept that my daughter is missing, and I saw it, I saw it! I saw it when she was taken. The crows . . . so many crows! They took flight, and then . . . he looked like one of them. Like a giant blackbird. He went up to her and he . . . she’s alive. I know she’s alive. He covered her mouth with something, knocking her out, but I know she’s alive. When my son-in-law came to get her, she was just gone. He’s a good man; he loves her. I wish I might have known him in life. You have to believe me; you have to help me.”

“Sir, yes, of course. I want to help you. But—”

“I know you’re something, some law enforcement. I’ve seen you before. I know you come here, and I’m begging you! My daughter did not go off. She isn’t shopping. She isn’t angry with her husband. She didn’t run away. She comes here to honor me. We were close. Kyle gives her time alone at the grave, and then he joins her. She was kidnapped! I saw it! Of course, Kyle didn’t, he came when she’d already been swept away. He went to the office and they said they were so sorry, but they hadn’t seen her. He called the police and they . . . they said he couldn’t report her missing because she’d only been gone a few hours . . . but I know about such things. She has to be found soon, now, as quickly as possible! This can’t be . . . it can’t be for a ransom, they’re both just teachers! I don’t mean ‘just’ teachers; teachers are the most important people, really, but they don’t make much money.”

“Sir, sir, please, calm down. And let me get my husband. We are law enforcement, yes, FBI, a special unit. And Jackson is the field director for our unit, so if—”

“He can see me?” Cameron Adair interrupted.

She nodded. “We’ll need to know everything, and we will help you. You just must calm down and give us every detail.”

“I . . .”

He broke off and she turned to see Jackson had followed her. He was so concerned. He was a great husband—except when his concern became a little overmuch—and he was a great dad. He and Corby had enjoyed an incredible bond on Father’s Day, and she knew he would always be an amazing parent with their biological child and their adopted child.

She looked at the ghost of the man before her. She saw the anguish in his eyes. And she thought about his son-in-law, desperately searching for his pregnant wife.

“Jackson, this is . . .”

“Cameron Alan Adair,” the ghost said.

Jackson nodded to the man, adding, “I see by your uniform that you’re First Lieutenant Cameron Alan Adair,” he said. “I’m Field Director Jackson Crow. Of the Krewe of Hunters, special unit,” he said. “How can we help you?”

“They won’t file a missing person’s report yet!” Cameron said. “The police came out. An officer who told Kyle they couldn’t file a report because his wife wasn’t at a grave when he was supposed to pick her up. Kyle told them she’d never just walk off. And I saw what happened, and I jumped in front of the officer and tried to manifest . . . something! But nothing, and . . . my daughter. She’s a good woman, the best, kind and caring. She’s due in less than a week. Her first child. Please, you must help me. She was kidnapped.”

“Sir, we’ll help you,” Jackson promised. “I need to know everything you saw.”

Cameron Adair was looking at Angela. “I see you, too, are expecting,” he said softly. “You must know . . . how I feel, how her husband must feel . . . I’m worried sick. She’d never risk the baby for herself. I . . .”

“Please, sir, tell us what happened,” Jackson