
This book is entirely a work of fiction. All characters are entirely fictitious and do not represent any persons living or dead. Product business location names used remain the property of any all trademark holders and do not represent an endorsement or association of any kind, either expressed or implied.
Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Repka All Rights Reserved
A HAUNTING AT HENSLEY HALL
BY
MERABETH JAMES
The horned moon did little to light the area beyond the scattering of mercury vapor lights. The last two had been out for weeks and no one had bothered to fix them. Not that it mattered. Nothing ever happened in the dullest town on earth, she thought, heaving one of her prolonged sighs that quite irritated her mother. Unrolling her waistband, she pulled down the skirt she'd hiked up to micro-mini status after leaving the house, then pawed through her shoulder bag until she found her car keys. She shouldn't have parked so far from the others, but she wasn't exactly great at parking. Last time she'd put a dent in her mom's car she had to pay for it herself, which had pretty much ruined her entire summer!
She shivered. Something didn't feel right. She looked around nervously. Nothing....no one...just a whole lot of dark. Maybe she should have waited till the others were ready to leave, but she'd be grounded for a week if she got home late again on a school night. No one else's parents seemed to give a damn! Just her luck! She had to be born to the one family in the whole town that did! She opened the car door and slung her shoulder bag into the passenger seat. She was just about to follow, but it was already too late.
He had been waiting for her under her car. Reaching up, he grabbed her ankle and slammed her to the ground. Stunned, she lay there for a long precious moment, then opened her mouth to scream, but she was too late again. She could feel the sharp, cold edge of a blade against her throat just before a crushing blow knocked her into oblivion.
She was on the edge of returning awareness, when he dropped her on the hard dirt floor. It was cold and uneven...a stone pressed painfully into the side of her jaw. The smell of decay and wet earth and something else she couldn't name was overpowering. No one would ever find her here, she thought. Not that any of this could be for real! This was all some prank gone horribly wrong. It had to be, didn't it? Things like this couldn't happen to her, could they? Something moved in the darkness...something slithery and wet, but then, mercifully, she lost consciousness again.
She awoke, gasping. Her chest heaved, nostrils flared, as she tried to suck in what air she could. Panic swallowed her whole. She wanted to tear away whatever sealed her mouth, but realized she couldn't feel her hands. Flexing her fingers, she felt the pins and needles of returning sensation and discovered her hands were bound tightly above her head. She was no longer lying on the dirt floor, but staked out on some sort of platform? Her fingers explored the edges as far as she could reach. It felt like an old door. Whatever. It didn't matter. At least she wasn't lying on the floor with the slithery things.
The fierce pounding headache that she had awaked with intensified, as she struggled briefly with her bonds. It was no use. No use at all. There must be a way out of this, she thought, but her head hurt too much to think clearly and her stomach felt queasy...not a good thing under the circumstances...so she lay still, listening to the dark until she drifted away again.
She didn't know how long she'd been flickering in and out like a loose light bulb...days...weeks even? There was no way of knowing. She only knew she was bone deep cold, thirsty, hungry, and frightened. She hadn't believed anyone could be so scared and not crazy. At least she hoped she wasn't. Her reality had shifted so completely there was little she could be sure of any more.
He didn't come often and, strangely enough, she found she preferred his company to the darkness filled with her own imaginings. He allowed her to toilet in the corner...fed her bits and pieces...dribbles of water...just enough to keep her alive.
She had pleaded with him, "Just let me go. I'll never tell anyone. I don't even know who you are. Please, please I'm begging you. Why are you doing this to me?" and wondered for the hundredth time why he hadn't raped her, if that was what he wanted. He seldom bothered to answer and when he did his voice was little more than a husky whisper.
Sometimes he sat silhouetted against the light that fingered its way through the cracks in the doors above...his face always in shadow...as he watched her for the longest time, studying her like an insect stuck on a pin, as she blinked in the bright circle cast by his flashlight.
Sometimes he stood over her, savoring her, as though she was some prize he had craved, stalked and captured. Though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was smiling, as his warm finger stroked the contour of her cheek and trailed down her neck, tracing the delicate bones that grew more pronounced as time passed.
Then one day, or night, she couldn't tell one from the other, he woke her from a dream. She had been sleeping in her own bed...her mother calling her to breakfast. How often had she filled the long dark hours with snapshots like that? How many times had she called for her mother, begging her to hear?
Now she was angry. She wanted that dream back...needed it back, but it was gone like smoke. Above her, a lantern dangled from the low ceiling. As her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she looked around slowly. It was an old cellar just as she'd thought...maybe an abandoned farmhouse? How many of those could there be?
Then he moved then into her field of vision and, for the first time, she saw him. He was dressed all in black, his head covered in a ski mask, but she could see his eyes glittering darkly. And his mouth. She could see that, too. He was smiling. Just as she knew he would be.
"How long do you plan on keeping me here," she whispered hoarsely around a tongue that seemed too big for her mouth.
"Till you no longer amuse me," he murmured.
Since she was still more angry than scared, she hurled at him, "Screw you!"
He laughed without humor, his teeth flashing whitely. "Still have a touch of willfulness, do you? I thought I'd taken care of that by now. That outburst may have just cost you precious minutes of your life. You should try being more amenable."
She shivered and closed her eyes, willing herself back to her dream, but, of course, that didn't work. When she opened her eyes again, he was closer....much closer. He was humming...his mouth was close to her ear...his voice a soft seductive insinuation.
She shivered again. Ticking him off had been a bad mistake. One she might pay dearly for. Best to humor him...play his game. Do whatever he wanted, if it meant he would let her go. She began to cry, though how her dehydrated, emaciated body managed to produce tears some part of her couldn't help but wonder. Alone in the darkness, she had thought she had squeezed out every tear left in her.
"You are mine, you know," he whispered silkily, running his hand along her throat, pausing at the carotid artery that throbbed weakly beneath his fingertips.
"Yes," she replied, struggling between horror and a strange tingling fascination.
"You will let me do anything to you that I want."
She didn't like the sound of that at all, but she managed to say, "Yes."
His finger circled her breast, lingering on the nipple that hardened reflexively at his touch. "I have something I want you to wear. You will put it on for me."
"Yes," she replied, "whatever you want."
"And you will not condemn me in this life or the next for what I am about to do?" he asked, pinching her nipple almost painfully.
She whispered a very reluctant, "No."
"Louder! All of it...say all of it! You will not condemn me in this life or the next! Say the words!" he hissed.
"I will not condemn you in this world or the next!" she told him, as loudly as she could.
"There. That wasn't so hard was it? Now open wide. I have something to ensure you keep your word," he said so very softly.
This is all some horrible mistake, some remote part of her mind wanted to scream at him, just before she slipped into unconsciousness again.
Which turned out to be the only mercy she found.
Charlie slammed the phone down with a sigh. She'd been expecting it....the call from Meg. It was time again to drop everything and rush to the rescue, just as she had been doing for as long as she could remember. Last year it had been Rayne...her half sister and product of her dad's late life crisis. Or late blooming 'adventurous streak' as he preferred to call it. Rayne had been in trouble and, for the first time in her young life, unable to bat her eyes and talk her way around anything in pants. This time the 'pants' were blue and worn by the local cops, who had arrested her for murder. Forensic evidence hadn't been their forte. It had been up to her to find it and drag it under their noses. When it was all over, she had thought it might have been a lesson learned for her often impetuous sister, but apparently not. .Rayne's confidence had been shaken, but she bounced back quickly and was headed for New York the last time she'd seen her.
And then there was Allyn...her baby half brother with the affability of a puppy and a lot less intelligence. At least in her opinion. He had been caught between the cross hairs of two angry Texas women who threatened to kill him and ended up shooting each other. But not before she had gotten him safely out of the way. To this day he had no inkling of how close he had come to dying. "You should have let me handle it," had been his parting offhand remark, as he drove into the sunset. Maybe she should have, but once you're dead it limits your options.
She sighed again. The entire family must be cursed. There was no other explanation. Things....weird things....just seemed to happen to them and around them. And she was always the one to pull them to safety...usually kicking and screaming all the way. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered, but, of course, she knew. She loved them, every impossible, aggravating one of them.
She stood up and pulled back the drape. The late afternoon sun was gilding the trees in the little park below. It was one of her favorite times to take a break from her writing and go sit on the bench beneath the 200 year old oak, where something historical had happened, as it seemed to have done all over the little town she had settled down in for the past three years. That was a long time for her. As a freelance travel writer she had been all over the world, but settling down to write a book, third in a series, had given her a sense of place, even if it was only a tiny one-bedroom walk-up with a kitchen straight out of the fifties.
Today it was Meg who needed her and she would throw what she needed in a bag and head to Shrewsbury in the old Ford pickup that had taken her all over the country. It was the fastest way to get there and driving all night should put her at her door by early morning. Meg had finally had enough. Enough of her drunken husband, who asserted himself with his fists. Enough of trying to change him into something he would never be...a decent man who loved her as much as she loved him. It had taken fifteen years for her to come this far. It was time to bring Meg home. Way past time as far she was concerned.
\*\*\*
The door banged open hard enough to bounce off the wall. "Tell me he's here, Margaret Ann, so I can shoot him for you," Charlie said with a quiet calmness that didn't fool her sister one bit. Charlie was always calm, when she was at her most deadly.
"He's been gone since just before I phoned you yesterday," Meg called from the couch, where she was lying in a pile of cushions, covered by one of the bright afghans she was always crocheting. One eye was purple...the other red and puffy. A large bruise darkened her jaw.
Charlie felt her heart turn over. Some part of her wanted to shake this sister of hers for not calling sooner. Some part wanted to hug her fiercely and that was what she did.
Settling next to her, she pulled her into her arms, brushing the matted tangles of dark blonde hair off her face. "We're leaving this place together. I don't want to hear you've changed your mind again. This is the third time we've gotten almost this far. No, he won't change and a million apologies from that sorry ass won't alter that fact. Got it?"
Meg hiccupped and sighed simultaneously. "Got it. This time I'm not changing my mind. This time he went too far."
Charlie's eyes widened in alarm. Tipping her sister's chin up, she looked her right in the eyes. "Too far? What does that mean? I'm taking you to the hospital and then we're going to the police no matter what you have to say about it," she told her fiercely.
"No...no...I'm fine other than what you see. Mitch hurt him. He threw him against the wall. I screamed at him to stop, but he just laughed so I went after him. I hit him as hard as I could and kept on hitting him, again and again, so he wouldn't have time to hurt him any more. But he's okay and that's what's important! I saved him," Meg told her with a touch of pride.
Baffled, Charlie shook her head. "What...who...are you talking about?" she managed to ask around the angry tears that tightened her throat.
Smiling, Meg pulled aside the afghan. There nesting in the crook of her knees was a small shaggy white dog. He was trembling slightly...his brown eyes wary but hopeful. He looked like a cross between Albert Einstein and a lint ball, Charlie thought, as she reached out to pet him. His tail thumped briefly, as he gave her hand a quick lick, before he burrowed deeper into the couch cushions.
"He's still kind of scared after what happened. He's a rescue dog I adopted from the animal shelter. You know how I am about animals. It was Christmas Eve and I didn't want to spend another Christmas with just Mitch, me, and his bottle. The sign above his cage read: One white dog. He looked so sad and lonely, just like I felt, so I brought him home. Mitch pitched a fit when he saw him. Said he was 'good for nothing but peeing, pooping and eating' so that's what he wanted me to call him. Goodfor. But I named him Freddie."
"That Mitch! The soul of a poet, " Charley said with a mixture of venom and sarcasm, thinking it should be legal to put a bullet in him! "How about we get you and your pup out of here...now. I'll help you pack. If Mitch comes back and I have to kill him, things might get messy and they're quite messy enough already."
"You wouldn't really shoot Mitch, would you?" Meg asked almost hopefully.
Charlie answered with a very dark smile.
\*\*\*
Charlie looked out the window, as she haphazardly misted the ragged Schefflera that had hung in there with her for the past three years. Across the street she could see Meg sitting on her bench with her dog 'Freddie' lying next to her. She smiled. Meg often sat there or went for long walks, trying to give her the time and quiet she needed to work. The book had pretty much stalled to a stop. Maybe that was inevitable. There had been a lot of adjustments on all sides, when they returned to her tiny apartment.
But it had been almost a month now and Meg was still walking on eggshells....always apologizing for the silliest things, as though everything in the world that went wrong was her fault. Sometimes she just wanted to scream at her to knock it off, then reminded herself it was a deeply learned behavior from fifteen years with the incomparable Mitch. That and being left to the not so tender mercies of their uptight mother, the self-styled "iron fist in the velvet glove", after their dad left for California to begin a new life with dark, elfin Sage Farley...the visiting New Ager who had sat in on his mathematics lecture...stayed to argue the merits of Numerology and captured his heart as well as other parts of his anatomy, judging from the arrival of 7lb12oz Rayne less than eight months later. Strangely enough, or maybe not so 'strangely' Sage had proved a blessing in many ways.
Charlie sighed. Today she would have her say, before she bit the end of her tongue off. Patience never being her strong suit! She went back to her computer and looked at the last thing she had written...and rewritten...and rewritten again, but it was no use. Her muse was still stubbornly shirking her responsibilities no matter how hard she tried to court her. She rose and crossed to the window for the third time in ten minutes. What was she going to say? How do you tell someone like Meg...gentle, sweet Meg... that she was a royal pain in the butt? She heard footsteps and the scrabble of claws on the steps and sucked in a deep breath.
Meg opened the door and followed Freddie inside. Unsnapping his leash, she straightened and looked around, surprised to see Charlie, standing by the window, looking as if she had just swallowed a whole dill pickle. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her pale blue eyes rounding in surprise.
"I have something to say to you and I'm going to say it even if it's around the size nine foot I'm about to shove in my big mouth. You really don't have to be nice every minute, Meg. No one's going to hit you if you're bitchy once in a while, though I wouldn't make a habit of it or you could end up like me. No more apologies for every little thing! And, most important of all, stop being grateful to me all the time. If I hear you say one more time 'how good it was of me to do this or that' I'll scream this place down around all our ears. I am your sister. Big sister at that! I love you very much and we are beginning a new life...you...me...and Freddie. Got it?"
Meg's "I'm sorry. I didn't" earned her the thorough misting the Schefflera could have used.
\*\*\*
Things changed after that. Meg seemed to shed her old self like a cicada leaves its worn out shell hanging on a tree. She smiled more. Even laughed. Bought some new clothes, hired a lawyer and took back her maiden name. "I'll punch him where it will really hurt that SOB," she told Charlie. "His wallet!" The worry that Mitch would come knocking some day, changed to a 'just let him try' kind of attitude.
The Ravynne family streak of resilience ran deep in Meg, Charlie thought...the very kind that had brought them all through one disaster after another. Some Charlie knew about and some she didn't want to know about. One could only take so much.
The miniscule apartment remained a problem though and every day became a dance party as each tried to stay out of the other's way. Thankfully, Meg had taken over the kitchen chores allowing her to spend even more time staring, impotently, at her laptop in the small eating alcove that served as her office.
Then one day (Meg and Freddie had left after breakfast not wanting to disturb her), Charlie's muse bestirred herself again and her fingers flew across the keyboard until she had three chapters to show for it. Of course, there would be rewrites, plenty of them, but still. She smiled and made herself a cup of tea, then decided to reward herself with a little Internet surfing and the chocolate bar she'd been hoarding for just this occasion.
She had barely started, when she saw it! "Like this can't be for real or even legal, " she murmured, as she quickly scanned the text above and below the picture of a house that was certainly not the all American house next door. It was a dark, brooding, mysterious Victorian monstrosity, quite probably riddled with termites, deathwatch beetles (though she wasn't sure they had such things in the States!), mold, mildew, mice...and even rats. She laughed. Let's hope there were no rats! If there was anything bigger than a mouse, and there probably was, she'd never get Meg to agree to what she was thinking about doing. She must be crazy. And she knew she wouldn't have to look far to find others that thought so too. But the house was gorgeous if you liked that kind of thing. And she did. Loved it, if truth be told. But what would Meg say?
She didn't have long to find out. She was so engrossed, she hadn't heard the door open and close. Didn't know Meg was home till she leaned over her shoulder and squinted at the screen. "What are you looking at so intently?"
"Just the most beautiful house ever. Look at it, Meg. Isn't it wonderful?"
Meg studied the house that could have devoured twenty of her little cottage in Shrewsbury and never burped. Dripping with broken gingerbread, towers fronting both sides like dark sentinels, it looked like the Addam's family home on steroids. "It's quite large, isn't it?" she managed to say around the little bubble of worry that had lodged in her throat. "It says something about a contest. What are you thinking of doing and tell me you are only joking when you say it."
"Well, we both agree about one thing lately. This place is too small. I need a place to write. You need a kitchen bigger than a pea pod, which reminds me, you need a place to garden. I've seen you across the street grooming the Parks Department's flowers, wondering when they'd catch you and I'd have to come haul you out of jail, like I haven't done that all too recently with that sister of ours."
"They needed dead heading or they wouldn't keep blooming," Meg mumbled defensively.
"Yeah, right! Bottom line we need some space and this just might be the answer," Charlie said with a too bright smile.
"But the upkeep alone. We could never afford it. I mean you've got some money from your books and I will have some after the divorce settlement, but get real, Charlie. That place is a money pit as big as the Grand Canyon."
"Well, no point worrying about details like that right now. We haven't won it yet."
"And that means what?" Meg asked worriedly.
"This town is running a contest to unload the house and pay off its back taxes, which have been piling up for sometime," Charlie told her.
"I never in all my life heard of such a thing."
"We have to write an essay explaining why we want to live in this house and enclose a check with it."
"Ah, hah! How much are they trying to scam out of everyone?" Meg asked.
"'Scam' sounds a little judgmental, Meg. I'm rather surprised at you. After all, the back taxes have to be paid, a town can't run on air, and the check is for...$100," she told her, dropping her voice on the last part.
Meg sniffed loudly. "You're going to do this and I know I'd be wasting my time trying to talk you out of it. Sogo ahead. This won't be the first time you've done something really stupid."
Charlie looked at her sister for a long moment. Maybe this new attitude she'd encouraged, had some severe drawbacks. "Look. I know how this all sounds. But I think this is an opportunity we can't turn down. If it's meant to be, it will happen. Besides, what are the odds that we'll win? Have either of us ever won anything in our entire lives?"
"Just that one prize in high school for the most unusual Halloween costume, but only because of that freak accident. The one you told me never to mention again, remember?"
"Sorry. I did say that. Anyway, here's what we'll do. I'll check all this out and see if it's for real. If it is, we'll do it. It says here that the place has ten bedrooms, not counting the staff quarters. It would be perfect for a B&B, or we could take in boarders! You can have your nice big kitchen, a yard for Freddie to run about in, and I can have that little tower room on the right with a view of the beautiful garden I know will flourish under your green hands."
"Oh please! At least I know where I can get the fertilizer! Okay, count me in," Meg said with a sigh. "But about that kitchen thing. I really...really hate cooking!"
The 'cooking thing' would be one more wrinkle they would have to iron out, Charlie thought with a grimace, then remembered. Neither one of them liked to iron either!
Charlie began her homework. Checking on the Internet, she learned all she could about the small town called Merritsville from its database. It had a population of 50k plus, as of the last census, mostly of Scotch-Irish descent, but liberally sprinkled with other ethnic groups. A decent percentage had, at least, a high school education and the crime rate was low. So far so good, she thought. Time to start the essay.
At first, she'd felt at a loss. It seemed her capricious muse had logged off once again. Why did she want to do this thing so badly anyway? It wasn't remotely sensible, quite probably not even sane, as Meg told her often enough, but there it was. It wasn't a likable house. It had way too much presence to be likeable. It was a house one either hated at first sight, feared all the way to one's toes, or loved.
Suddenly, she had an 'Ah, hah!' moment. She had fallen in love with the old house from the first moment she saw it! Impossible as that sounded, it was only too true. It seemed fated somehow, though she wasn't all that sure she even believed in fate. Or hadn't so far. And when she told Meg that she loved the house and it needed her, she had expected her to laugh, but instead she had only looked at her for a long moment and nodded.
While she was working through the essay's third rewrite, Meg suggested they call the tax assessor's office, directly, and see what they had to say. There had been no phone number or address listed on the Internet. In fact, it had clearly stated that no one was to contact them directly, but when had that ever stopped her? A quick Internet search turned up Merritsville's Tax Assessor's phone number. With Meg's ear pressed close to the receiver, she made the call.
The voice on the other end was both coldly polite and clearly impatient. "We posted all the pertinent information, which, if you had bothered to read, stated you were not to contact us. I was quite...quite sure we had made that abundantly clear. Just follow the steps and send in your entry ...or entries. You are certainly welcome to send more than one, as long as you enclose a separate check for each. I don't believe I caught your name?" a Mrs. Brown intoned nasally.
Charlie blurted out the first name that came to mind...Maggie Snow...one she sometimes used when she went undercover. After some subtle prodding, heavily laced with the 'deference due' one in Mrs. Brown's quite possibly overpaid position, she learned that the previous owners had died and left no known heirs to take on the "responsibility of the estate". The couple had been in "considerable arrears", but the assessor's office "out of the generosity" of their hearts had let it slide, since the family had been of "political importance at one time". The house had been empty since their death more than three years ago, so the tax bill was now "quite a significant amount".
"Yes," Mrs. Brown conceded with a forced brightness that made Charlie grit her teeth. "The estate will need some repairs. But it was built mid Nineteenth Century, back when they really knew how to build, so I'm sure the basic structure is quite sound. Of course, I am no expert in such things and, since we are practically giving it away, it is being offered strictly 'as is'. It was neglected quite shamefully, but I'm sure with a little money and some elbow grease it will be a stunning asset to our little community once again!"
Charlie had been hoping for at least the owner's name, but knew the direct approach wouldn't work with Mrs. Brown. "I'm sure the Wilsons did all..."
She could practically see Mrs. Brown's superior smirk. "The Hensleys," she corrected her with a snap, then caught herself. "I don't believe their name is relevant. It is the house we are talking about."
Meg tugged urgently at Charlie's arm. "Ask her where they died?" she whispered.
Cupping her hand over the receiver, Charlie mouthed with a touch of annoyance, "What did you say?"
"Ask her where they died?" Meg persisted.
So Charlie asked and was told, "Why would that be pertinent? They died quite peacefully in their own home of natural causes. After all, they had been quite elderly and it was totally expected. No surprises...none at all!" Mrs. Brown said with exaggerated emphasis. A prickling awareness shot up Charlie's spine, just as Mrs. Brown excused herself and hung up.
Meg sighed. "You know what this means, don't you?"
Charlie let the 'what?' she didn't want to ask escape her.
"Ghosts is what! The place is bound to be haunted, though I suspected as much from the first moment I saw it. No wonder they're raffling it off in some cockamamie contest. Who in that town would buy the place if it has the reputation I think it has? No wonder they didn't list the address. Anyone driving into Merritsville would soon find out the place is haunted and be out of there on the next bus!"
"They drove in, they wouldn't take a bus out, would they?" Charlie asked wryly. "You are really beginning to enjoy all this, aren't you? We haven't sent the check in yet. It's not too late to call the whole thing off, if that is what you really want."
"Haunted mansion...ghosts...things that bump you in the night, are you kidding? You know how I love that kind of thing!" Meg told her with what came dangerously close to a giggle.
And Charlie did know. How could she forget? At eight, Meg had begun holding séances in the attic. At first she had been the only one there, until she talked her non-believing sister into attending. She remembered Meg, her head wrapped in a silk scarf she'd pilfered from their mother's dresser, concentrating on conjuring up the spirits, who had seemed totally disinterested in being conjured! Then one night, not long after they had persuaded their babysitter to let them see a Dracula movie on TV, Meg summoned up a vampire. Or thought she had.
Charlie had never seen her so scared. And when she hadn't been able to put her vampire back in his box, or wherever she hoped to stuff him, she asked their cook for garlic cloves. If Mrs. Porter wondered why Meg had developed a sudden craving for garlic, she never asked and, most importantly, never told their mother.
Meg had tied the garlic in a wool scarf and wore it around her neck... night after night. Though she loved Meg dearly, she didn't love sleeping in a room that reeked of garlic! In fact, she had developed a strong dislike for Italian food that scarred her to this day...so she had decided to take charge of the situation.
It had been a stroke of genius! She had staged the vampire's death. At midnight, with a full moon lighting the dark deed, she'd wrestled a black yard bag full of grass clippings to the ground and thrust a wooden stake through its 'heart'. It had all been a lot more work than she'd thought, but with Meg watching from their upstairs window, it had seemed worth it at the time. She'd spiced up the vampire's death with a few blood-curdling shrieks that brought lights on all over the neighborhood, including their mother's. She had been forced to lay low for what seemed like hours, before she could safely sneak back inside.
She had expected to find Meg awaiting her conquering heroine, but had found her fast asleep, the raggedy-eared teddy bear she'd been 'too big for lately' clutched close to her heart. Freddie. Why hadn't she remembered that before? Now 'Freddie' was a shaggy white dog, who comforted Meg and had been the catalyst in changing her life.
"Yoo hoo! Earth to Charlie. I'm still here, remember me? Anyway, I was asking, while you weren't listening, what do we do next?"
She tugged a lock of Meg's honey gold hair. "We've got a name now...Hensley...and a little research should give us an address."
A short time later, they had found out that a Walden Hensley had been one of the founding fathers of Merritsville, making his money in lumber and building his huge house in 1875 as a monument to his success. From his picture, he looked stuffy, arrogant and ruthless. His mouth had a cruel twist and his eyes seemed almost malevolent. He held a cane in his right hand like a scepter. He was someone no one would ever want to cross, both sisters thought. His wife, Ruth, was small, unsmiling and nondescript...a little colorless wren who somehow produced four strapping sons, whose parentage could never have been questioned!
Searching the tax assessor's online property records under the name 'Hensley', Charlie found the address: 3750 West Myrtle Trail. With Meg pressed close beside her, she Goggle mapped the house and brought up its satellite image. The house was enormous and surrounded by a number of outbuildings. The grounds looked wildly overgrown, but when they zoomed in for a closer look, the enlarged pixels made it impossible to see anything at all. "I suppose we should drive over there and check it out now that we know where it is," Meg told Charlie with a sigh.
"That would be the sensible thing to do," Charlie agreed with a sigh of her own.
"But if we go there, we will probably end up having more doubts than we have now."
"Probably."
"And then we'll never do it. I vote we go ahead, as planned, and handle whatever happens," Meg said brightly.
Charlie sighed again. Now that Meg had given up the role of 'devil's advocate', she wasn't entirely sure she liked the change. She needed Meg to keep her grounded, since, quite probably, she wasn't thinking too clearly just now. But the contest...the house...it all felt so right, how could it be wrong? Memories from the past 'niggled' briefly, but she squelched them before they took root. The past was the past and, granted, she had made her share of mistakes, but it was no use second-guessing herself at this point. "So, 'damn the torpedoes full speed ahead'?" she asked.
"Yep! But..."
Here goes, thought Charlie, Meg was beginning to have second thoughts before she'd even finished her first. "But what?" she managed to ask.
"I'm fed up with men...all men, but you? You aren't going to get involved or married or something and leave me hanging with all this?" Meg asked anxiously. "You always had a slew of guys asking you out in school, though you did turn most of them down, and you're still attractive enough, when you don't frown like that. I've always wondered why you never settled down, got married, and had a couple of kids. You'd make a great mother."
"Yeah, right. We both had such a great role model," Charlie said dryly. She knew Meg was talking through her insecurities. Too many people had walked out on her in her young life, but she would never be one of them!
"Well that takes care of the 'kids' part, but why never marry? You must have had your chances?" Meg persisted.
Charlie's eyes seemed to find some distant place. "I guess I've always been so busy looking after everyone else I didn't have time. Besides, I wanted someone who would...could look after me. Not that I'd have let him, of course, but he would want to. That's the point. He'd want to. And then there's the love thing. I only came close once." Her voice trailed away.
"And? Who was he, Charlie?" Meg whispered, hating the pain she saw in her sister's face.
"His name was Paul and he's been dead for more than three years. He was my love...still is," Charlie said, slipping her arm around her sister's shoulders. "And that's a story I'll never tell anyone."
Rayne swung her long legs into the taxi, gave the driver the address and leaned back with a sigh. Just lately, the traffic, the people the noise had become, well, irritating. But there were compensations...museums, galleries, theaters, restaurants, clubs and the shopping. The fabulous shopping! But now that the initial 'rush' had worn off, she began to think there was someplace else she'd rather be, though she hadn't the foggiest notion where that was.
She laughed and the driver glanced at her, speculatively, in the rearview mirror. Out of all her siblings...half and otherwise...she was most like Charlie. They both had gypsy souls. Neither seemed able to stay in one place very long, though Charlie had been settled for the past 3 years? Now she and Meg had entered some contest to win a Victorian House of Horrors, as Meg described it in her latest letter.
It was always Meg that wrote, keeping in touch with everyone...sort of like the family 'town crier'. She sounded so much happier now. Apparently, the divorce had gone smoothly, though they were still trying to recover the money Mitch emptied out of their bank account on his way out of town. With no children, it would all be final soon and Meg would be free.
She remembered the first time she'd met her two half-sisters. She was five years old and Allyn only three, when they went to the airport to meet their plane. With a parent gripping each of her hands, Allyn in her mother's arms, they had waited for the passengers to debark. She looked up at her dad and saw tears in his eyes. Her mother was smiling. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, then she saw them and they were not at all what she had expected. Somehow, she had thought they would be children still, like her, someone to play with not grownups almost as old as her mother!
Of course, they had only been teenagers...Meg shorter and rounder with a riot of dark blonde curls, while Charlie had been taller...much taller...with straight, silver blonde hair that spilled down her back. She looked like she'd stepped straight out of a storybook! Hunkering down, she had met her at eye level, and smiled. She always remembered her words. "Looks like I have another baby sister to look after" and she always had. She was the first one she'd called, when she's got into trouble last year.
She frowned as she slipped into that memory. She had reported Jared for harassing her and they'd blown her off with, "That's not the story we heard!" She could just imagine what they'd 'heard'. Jealous, possessive, unable to believe her 'no' meant just that, he had followed her for weeks, but he was a cop, one of their own, and she wouldn't be allowed to smear his name or hurt his family with her 'unsubstantiated' accusations. Never mind that she wasn't his first victim. The others were local women who had withdrawn their complaints for undisclosed reasons.
They had said she 'stalked and killed' Jared, because that was what they wanted to believe. The stalked part was where they got it wrong. She had killed him. Blown a hole in his manly chest as he forced her up against the kitchen counter. She had spent many nights, trying to forget his look of surprise.
It had been Charlie who had made them look at the forensic evidence: the broken pane in her kitchen door, the bits of glass the coroner had dug out of Jared's lacerated elbow, the size twelve work boot prints found outside all her windows, which had matched Jared's exactly.
Charlie made them do their jobs with a quiet force that pushed everything out of its way. Then she had made a call to someone, an important someone, that stirred up everyone and set her free...all charges dropped.
Now she was here. The Big Apple. Exactly where she had thought she wanted to be...a new recruit to the trendy crowd of the smart upwardly mobile. She had joined the wolf pack of 'in control', independent, savvy women from her office, as they trolled the clubs, looking for? She didn't think they'd quite figured that out yet. Nor worried about it. They were having fun. It had been her kind of fun once, but now it all seemed rather flat, like warm stale champagne. She smiled wryly. At twenty-five she was beginning to have growing pains? God, how had that happened?
The cab skittered to the curb and she slid out. Hugging her shoulder bag tightly against her body, (something she did religiously since coming to New York), she looked up at the brownstone apartment building butted up against a row of look alikes in a neighborhood that was straddling the line between newly improved and sadly worn out.
She had answered the ad for a roommate almost a year ago. There was no way she could have afforded a place of her own then and, even now, with a good job at the ad agency, it would still be an impossible stretch. Especially the way she liked to spend money. Besides, she had the place to herself most of the time, when Amanda of the colorful 'body art' was either working her two jobs, or staying with her boyfriend.
Time to move on, she asked herself? She could go back home for a visit. Her mother would be getting ready for the summer solstice right about now. She was a Wiccan, not a witch, she often told her, though, in her opinion, the distinction was negligible. She smiled. Sage Farley Ravynne, witch or not, was a wonderful mother. The life they had all shared in the little adobe ranch house had always been a happy one.
As she climbed the three flights of stairs to her apartment, she found herself thinking about her dad. He was old enough to be her grandfather and had always seemed, to her, perpetually surprised, as though he had just looked around and couldn't figure out where he was or how he'd got there! But it was a good kind of surprise, of that she was certain.
They got on well, her parents. He now wrote children's' books and she illustrated them. They had achieved a good deal of success together. Something, she suspected, that didn't mean much to either of them.
She shook her head. No, she really wasn't like any of them. She didn't have Charlie's courage or strength, Meg's generous heart, her father's sense of wonder, or her earth mother's nurturing nature. She was Rayne and maybe she needed to find out who that really was.
Turning her key in the door, she smiled. Maybe she'd check in on Charlie and Meg. If they won this contest thing, they would need help. Not that she could hammer, saw or do all that hard sweaty stuff, but she knew a thing or two about marketing and, if they were serious about a B&B, that could be very helpful. Yes, maybe it was time to chuck the job and go see what those sisters of her's were up to. But it wouldn't hurt to do a little shopping first. Maybe stock up on a few wardrobe essentials? The likelihood of finding any good labels in...Mericksville?...was slim to impossible. And then there was the opening at the gallery next week that she'd promised to attend. Claymore's first showing of whatever it was he did. But she had promised she'd be there for him. And Friday night, Samantha and Cyndi were going to club something or other and "positively" wouldn't go without her. Maybe she wasn't quite ready to make any major changes...at least not yet.
\*\*\*
Meg peeled an extra potato and threw it in the pot, sucking in her belly as Charlie squeezed past on her third trip to the fridge in less than an hour. It was the picture of the house she had printed from the Internet, that Charlie obsessively visited. She had taped it, and a cellophane wrapped four-leaf clover, to the refrigerator door. "For good luck," she had told her, but Meg didn't know how much luck they needed. Who in their right minds would want the place? The renovation alone would be a nightmare! The location was the only thing it had going for it. Merritsville was close enough to a large metropolitan area, the mountains, and the seashore, that their B&B plans stood some chance of being a success.
And then there was the ghost thing. The possibility, she should say certainty that the old place was haunted had quite charmed her, but it wouldn't be everyone's idea of a good time. She could just imagine herself saying, "Breakfast is between 7 and 9. Don't mind the unspeakable horror at the foot of your bed. It seldom bites." She found herself laughing out loud...something she'd quite forgotten how to do until Charlie rescued her.
Ignoring the lingering doubts that raised their heads like hungry baby birds, she walked over to her sister and studied the photo. "See that dormered window on the far right? If you squint, you can see a face peering out. Looks like an old woman in a white cap."
Charlie leaned closer and tried squinting. "Looks like a reflection to me, but you're the expert on 'ghosts'. Might be better if we downplayed all that if we're going to have people actually stay with us."
Meg smiled and decided not to tell her sister that she had just been thinking the very same thing, but then, to her surprise, she found herself saying, "Or maybe not. There are plenty of would be ghost hunters, who would die for a chance to stay there. Well, maybe 'die' is not a good choice of words, but you know what I mean?"
Charlie gave her a pointed look and returned to her laptop, so Meg returned to the potatoes. Since Charlie seemed to be doing more staring at her keyboard than typing, she called, "Why don't you email Rayne, while you're sitting there. I'll bet she'd love to hear from you!"
"I did email her. Right after you got here," Charlie muttered, tugging at the end of her ponytail distractedly in a gesture Meg knew only too well.
"Sure...one of your cryptic monosyllabic emails with no meat to the bones. Which always surprised me since you and Dad are the writers in the family."
Charlie groaned. "I leave that up to you. You're the one that likes that kind of thing."
Meg smiled. She loved staying in touch with all the family. Of course, Allyn seldom, if ever, wrote back, and their mother hadn't answered her letters in years, but there was still her dad, mom and Rayne. She pried everything she could out of them and let them know only what she wanted them to know. Especially during her married life...if you could call it a life! It hadn't felt like much of one at the time!
She had married the first man who'd asked her. To this day, she wasn't sure why he had proposed. If he'd ever loved her, it came and went so fast she didn't even get a chance to enjoy it. But she had loved him the moment she'd looked into his eyes...beautiful eyes... the windows into a beautiful soul, right? It hadn't taken her long to realize her mistake.
But she was free at last! High time, too! Maybe she would drop Rayne a line and update her on how things were developing. She already suspected they were both crazy so why not confirm it?
\*\*\*
The official announcement came by way of registered letter. They had won and were now the owners of the Hensley's haunted estate soon to be a fabulous B&B. Well, maybe not soon, but one day, when they had thrown enough cash, sweat and tears at it.
Their winning hadn't surprised Charlie at all. She had known from the first moment she's seen the old place that somehow her destiny and Meg's were tied to it. It needed them. And not just to fix it up and make it beautiful again...the grand dame of Merritsville...it needed something else she couldn't name. She was beginning to believe in fate after all.
The apartment had been furnished, so there wasn't much to pack, just their clothes, laptop, a few boxes of books, family photos and those special mementoes that one was forced to carry through life, largely because of the guilt involved if they dumped them.
Everything fitted quite easily in the back of her truck. Maybe too easily, Charlie thought, as she slammed the tailgate shut. At almost forty years old, shouldn't there be more to her life than this? She shook her head and snapped the tonneau cover in place. In a very real sense they were all starting over...a brand new life in a brand new place. One with infinite possibilities. Good ones, she hoped. The kind she and Meg both needed.
"Time to saddle up and get moving," she called to a smiling Meg, who was taking Freddie for his last walk along their landlord's prized peonies. She knew what Meg was thinking. She would rather have him 'pee-on' Mr. Scully, who had been really ugly over Freddie and made them pay dearly. Admittedly, she was rather surprised that Meg of the green thumbs would do such a thing, but supposed even her sister should be allowed her dark side.
Meg was still smiling, when she shoved Freddie across the seat and climbed in after him. "I'm ready Charlie. Are you scared? This is an awful big chance we're taking."
"Do I look scared?" she asked evasively. "Besides, it's about time we had a little adventure in our lives. It's been three years for me and probably never for you," Charlie told her with a wry grin.
"You don't know everything, Charlotte Ravynne. You might just be surprised," Meg replied with a wink.
\*\*\*
With his harness securely fastened to the seatbelt, Freddie rode shotgun most of the first morning, while Meg slept...mouth open and snoring loudly. Apparently, she hadn't slept too well either, Charlie thought, as she glanced at her sister. It would be nice if she'd keep her company, while she drove. Freddie was a help, but his conversational talents were rather limited.
And then there was the other problem with Freddie. Meg had fed him the leftovers she'd emptied from the fridge that morning and he had been leaking noxious fumes for the past fifty miles, until she'd been forced to hold the pine tree scent thingie, that usually hung from the rearview mirror, under her nose.
With Meg continuing to sleep, Charlie found herself with too much time to think. Was she doing the right thing? Not that it mattered so much if it was just her, but it wasn't. There was Meg to consider. Did Meg need more upheaval right now? Nothing was final yet, was it? Not till they signed the papers. She could still turn the truck around and head...head where?
She looked at her sister and thought about waking her. She needed her to tell her they were doing the right thing. But then she changed her mind. No... they had made their decision. Meg could always tell her "I told you so" about a million times, if it proved to be the wrong one. Nothing had changed. She still felt the same about the house. No matter how worried or scared she was, she still knew, bone deep, that they were supposed to go there. "'Damn the torpedoes', Freddie. We're headed for our brand new home and I know we're all going to just love it!" Freddie looked at her and 'woofed', though she wasn't sure if it was a 'yes' woof or a 'time for a pee' woof.
\*\*\*
Days later, Charlie was almost ready to strangle her little sister. Meg had loaded up on snacks at the last gas station and had been babbling and crunching non-stop ever since, which meant Meg was just as scared and worried as she was.
By the time they took the last turn leading into Merritsville, it was already quite late and they were both tired and grumpy. Searching the lighted billboards that flashed past, they looked for a motel without much luck, and then, as if an evil genie had conjured it up, the Ramble Inn's "vacancy" sign beckoned from the dark. It looked seedy, maybe even 'Bates-like', but Charlie had driven the last mile she could squeeze out that day.
Leaving Meg and Freddie in the truck, she slid out, flexed her cramped legs and headed to the office...or 'off'...since half the blinking neon sign above the door wasn't lit. A bell jangled, discordantly, as she opened the door and stepped inside. A large sized woman with arms like a stevedore, wearing a purple flowered dress, appeared from behind a curtain and eyed Charlie, slowly, up and down. "Mite late to be checkin' in don't ya think, missy?"
Missy? "I really hadn't noticed. That was a 'vacancy' sign I saw out there?" Charlie murmured tiredly.
"Yep, guess it is. How many stayin?" she asked as she lit a cigarette and took a long draw.
"Two...my sister and me. Now about that room?"
"Just sign here and fill in the blanks," she said, as she leaned forward and plucked a strand of dog hair off her sleeve. Her gimlet eyes narrowed, as she gestured with her cigarette to the "Absolutely No Pets Allowed" sign half hidden behind her.
Charlie swore under her breath, then looked straight into her pale blue eyes that had narrowed to mere slits. "That's my sister's. She had a bad fright as a child and her hair turned snow white over night," she told her solemnly.
To her surprise, the woman laughed. "Now that's a good one. Number 12 down at the end just in case you want to take your sister for a walk before bedtime."
Charlie smiled and took the keys. .Maybe, they'd just had their first bit of good luck! If the room was clean, they would have their second, but it probably wasn't wise to expect too much'!
It was a dark, overcast morning when they all met at the Town Hall at 10AM sharp. All included a reporter from the weekly newspaper, with her photographer trailing behind, and the town notables headed by the mayor, Joe Griggs, a large man with an equally large opinion of himself. Mrs. Brown was there, too, and turned out to be all that Charlie had imagined...razor thin right up to the lips that made a mockery of smiling. Apparently, she was the mayor's sister as well as assistant tax assessor.
There were others, of course, a blur of faces and handshakes and questions Charlie couldn't answer. What would they do next? Did they know this and that? All she could do was smile and nod and saw Meg was doing pretty much the same thing.
They posed for the requisite photos, though Meg worried that Mitch might see them, if they made more than the local papers. He had been less than amiable at the divorce proceedings (though she had written Rayne that things had gone smoothly) and now, with time to brood over his supposed injustices, he could make unpleasant sound like a good thing.
Though they tried to speed things along, the townspeople were clearly enjoying themselves way too much to wrap things up. It was nearly noon before they declined the invitation to lunch and took possession of the keys, after signing a stack of papers, they both knew a lawyer should have looked at first.
Finally, it was time to go have a look at their future. Charlie smiled at Meg and Meg smiled back, as they both tried to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in their nether regions. They climbed back in the truck, and Charlie handed Meg the map someone had given her as they left the Town Hall. "You're the navigator," she told her. "I could say it's not too late, but we both know I'd be lying. Ready?"
Meg gave her a slightly tremulous smile. "Lead on! Or should I say, drive on! The adventure begins!"
They were both quiet after that, except for Meg's directions. They drove past clumps of small housing developments, past open fields, farmhouses and over a single lane bridge.
"Elderberry Drive. Okay turn right here and go down about... Well, I don't know how far. I'll have to tell you when we get there," Meg told her, worrying her lower lip, as she traced their route with her forefinger.
As Charlie drove, she found herself silently chanting, "Please be all right...please be all right." It just had to be, didn't it?
"Myrtle Road! Turn right!" Meg shouted suddenly. So, tires squealing, she did.
They must have been driving on 'Hensley' land for some time now, Charlie thought. Mrs. Brown had told them that the house had, originally, been surrounded by 3000 acres of rolling woods and meadows, but one cash strapped Hensley after another had sold off all but the ten acres that now belonged to them.
"Almost there," Meg cried excitedly. "Just a bit farther." They drove past a scattering of small ranch houses with bikes and basketball hoops...past a small convenience store with one gas pump...and then, there it was!
Twin iron gates leaned drunkenly inward, with "Hensley Hall" worked into their rusted fretwork. Charlie watched her side view mirrors, carefully, as she squeezed between them, remembering Dante's grim warning, "Abandon hope all ye who enter here". She found herself laughing at the drama of it all. She, for one, wasn't about to 'abandon hope'! She looked at Meg who had a weird expression and wondered if she was about to throw up. Not good. Her hand scooted around Freddie and found her sister's. "Ready?"
Meg managed a small nod and a smile, then said, "Torpedoes and all."
After the normalcy of the neighborhoods they had just passed, the silence was deafening. All they could hear was the crunch of gravel, and the slap of tall weeds hitting their front bumper, as they headed up the drive that threaded its way among the dark, dank tangle of trees, brush and high grass.
They circled a marble fountain...a satyr frozen in pursuit of a nymph...both chipped and green with moss and, suddenly, there it was! Charlie braked hard and both stared open-mouthed.
They had expected 'big' but the enormity of it took them both by surprise. Their house. It crouched with a forbidding arrogance on its patch of ground. Ivy crept everywhere, fingering its way along the bricks, up the sagging wooden shutters that might have been green once, up the chimneys that sprouted from the moss covered slate roof and draped around the gazebo at the end of the wrap around porch that embraced the entire front of the house. Tall casement windows stared blankly, perhaps quizzically at them, but Charlie was sure that was just her imagination, until Meg whispered, "I think it's watching us."
A crow circled above them and then disappeared inside a broken second floor window in the far left tower...one of twins that seemed to stand guard like sentinels from another era.
It was worse than they had imagined. Far worse. And the Hensely's had only been dead how long? Meg tugged at Charlie's ponytail and managed to smile. "It's our 'home sweet home' now and...." She broke off unable to finish.
Charlie laughed. It was better than crying, which is what she really wanted to do. "Just think about the ghost part, Meg. You're right. This place must be loaded with them. Do you think you could talk them into a little help with...well with everything?"
Meg smiled weakly. "You stay here in the truck, where you'll be safe," Meg told Freddie, who didn't seem all that anxious to do anything but! "Ready, Charlie?"
"As I'll ever be," she replied, opening the door and sliding out. Meg followed suit and they met at the foot of the broad sweep of steps that led up to the porch. "Watch your step. That top part looks rotten," Charlie warned.
"Right," Meg replied, her blue eyes widening, as she looked around.
The porch was covered with a thick drift of dead leaves. Railing spindles were missing or broken and there was a large hole where the floorboards had rotted through. But the door was beautiful! Scarred and peeling though it was, the upper part was beveled stained glass in purples, blues and greens. Meg winced at the cracks and missing pieces, while Charlie found herself trying to make out the unusual pattern.
The handle and lock were heavily ornate and dark with patina. The doorknocker was either a replica of a wolf's head or a very surly dog, Meg thought. She looked at Charlie, "You do the honors. It was your idea," she said softly.
"I've got a feeling that you will be reminding me of just that a whole lot in the days ahead," Charlie replied just as softly. It seemed unnatural to speak any louder. Like shouting in church, though 'church' was a big stretch from where they now stood. She fit the key in the lock and gave it a turn. They could hear the click of the mechanism, and both drew a collective breath, as Charlie turned the knob and pushed.
The door opened with a long squeak of protest and they stepped inside the foyer...its black and white tile floor covered with dead leaves and grimy with dirt. The light that found its way through the door behind them didn't penetrate very far into the cavernous depths beyond where they stood. Their footsteps actually echoed as they made their way into the great hall. "We should have brought flashlights," Meg whispered. "Do you feel that?"
Charlie looked behind her and then at her sister, "You mean a heavy, oppressive feeling like someone is sitting on your chest and you can hardly breathe?"
"Yes...that and the feeling that someone or something is watching us," Meg whispered back, looking over her own shoulder.
"You wanted ghosts and it looks like you got them," Charlie muttered. "One quick peek and then we're out of here till we can get some lights on. Mentally, she put 'call the power company' first on her short list. The long list didn't even bear contemplating!
Meg nodded. She had been hoping for the friendly variety of ghosts...the kind that just hung around and wouldn't hurt you, but the whispery voices she didn't tell Charlie about, seemed more menacing than innocuous. "I feel like this house just swallowed us up," she murmured. Charlie couldn't have agreed more and shot her a quick glance, before moving ahead.
Light spilled from a tall window at the top of the staircase that swept gracefully up to the second floor and then on to the third? It was too dark to see where the stairs disappeared. The railing at the first landing was broken, dangling upside down from its mooring. "That looks potentially lethal," Charlie pointed out. "And don't trip over the pieces that landed down here."
Meg grimaced. Her sister always treated her like a mother hen with her baby klutz. Not that she wasn't one, she was. She just hated being reminded of it.
Crossing the marble floor, Charlie pushed open a pocket door and more light flooded in...though flooded would be a stretch, since it had to find its way past grime covered windows and the thick vegetation that hugged the outside walls.
It was a parlor of some kind, Charlie guessed. Summer...winter...sitting, she knew old houses like this had had a room for nearly everything. She was surprised to see a scattering of furniture...a broken lamp, a chair that leaned on three legs, a tattered chintz couch. Meg ducked under her arm and looked around. "I'll bet there were some nice antiques here once," she said pointing to the empty places, where something had once stood.
"I'm sure Mrs. Brown saw that anything of value was stripped and shipped a long time ago. Let's take a quick look around and then get out of here."
"Okay, but no cellars or attics. And I get first dibs on the exit door if we have to book out of here in a hurry," Meg told her with a cheeky smile she was far from feeling.
"Just stick close. I don't want you falling through the floor."
Actually, Meg was more than happy to oblige. She had a strong feeling something was not far behind them and there was no way she would be more than two feet from Charlie's comforting presence.
Ignoring her sister's warning 'growl' as she stepped on her heels for the second time, she followed her down the long hall towards the back of the house, throwing open the doors on either side as they passed. More parlors with gaping empty fireplaces, a huge dining room with a scattering of broken chairs, a breakfast room and finally, behind the baize covered swing door, the kitchen.
A sealed off fireplace hugged one wall, while an avocado fridge and enormous matching stove, right out of the seventies, lined another. Gray painted cupboards gaped open, exposing their cache of rusted cans and remnants of mouse...rat?...chewed boxes. Cobwebs drifted like wraiths from the ceiling and festooned the window corners. The mummified remnants of some long ago meal had hardened on the chipped plates scattered on the wooden table that dominated the center of the room.
A pot still sat on the stove. Meg lifted the lid and peered inside, then wrinkled her nose at the dried residue. "Looks like someone just stepped away in the middle of dinner a very long time ago. What do you make of it?"
Charlie looked around slowly. "I've got the funniest feeling that the Hensley's didn't die as 'peacefully' as we've been led to believe."
"I wonder why no one in. what...three years?...has bothered to clean this place up a bit. Especially if they had any hope of selling it."
Suddenly, the kitchen seemed to grow darker, as though the presence that had followed them through the house had been listening and decided to make itself known. Both sisters felt a sudden chill wrap around them and settle to their very bones.
"We're leaving now to get some lunch," Charlie said as calmly as she could. "But we're coming back! You wanted us here ...I think...and we're going to stay! This is our home now, too!"
Meg looked around to see what would happen next. An ice-cold finger stroked her cheek and she emitted a small shriek of surprise and horror. "We're leaving!" she called, shrilly, to whatever was listening. Grabbing Charlie's hand, she dragged her to the outside kitchen door, which thankfully opened without difficulty and closed, even more thankfully, behind them!
\*\*\*
Charlie pointed the truck down the drive and headed for the main road as fast as she dared go. Neither sister spoke till they slid between the gates and then both sighed. "Okay, we met your ghost, or whatever that was, and it sort of got the better of us, but we won't let it happen again," Charlie told Meg, as soon as her heartbeat was close to normal.
"Kicked our butts, actually, and the word is ghosts! Not ghost. There's definitely more than one and I think they're just bluffing. Having a bit of fun at our expense," Meg replied as lighthearted as she dared go. Charlie was nursing a bad mood.
"You're saying what? That they're testing us?" Charlie asked with a frown.
"Well, something like that. You said that our being here seemed 'fated' and for you, of all people, to say something like that it had to be, didn't it? Who would have thought we'd win? But we did. I think we're meant to be here and they know it."
"And you're willing to go back there? Live there? Sleep there?"
"Try and stop me," Meg said with the stubborn thrust of her chin her sister knew all too well.
"What was that shriek all about just before you dragged me out the door?"
Meg smiled brightly...perhaps too brightly. "You told me that you felt the house wanted something from you. No, that's not how you put it. It 'needed you'. That came out of your very mouth. I felt the same thing when it touched me. I guess I might have given a teensy shriek of surprise."
"Hah! Sounded like you were scared stiff to me, " Charlie said, pulling into the convenience store they had passed earlier. Leaning back in her seat, she reached for Meg's hand. "Let's both not get too crazy here. We'll get some lunch and find a nice motel, where we can lick our wounds and make our plans. It's too late to get out of this now no matter how many second thoughts I have at this moment."
Meg squeezed her hand and smiled. "First and foremost we'll need the power turned on and then a phone. Mitch smashed my cell phone and you never carry one. I've always meant to ask you why?"
"Had one until I threw it in the Bosporus about three years ago. I had my reasons. Let's get Freddie walked and then we'll handle things one at a time. Okay?" Charlie asked, as she restarted the engine.
"And"
"And what?"
"Don't forget. There's nothing us Ravynne sisters can't handle when we set our minds to it!" Meg told her.
"I've got a feeling we'll be using a lot more of our anatomy than just our minds before we're through," Charlie told her wryly.
\*\*\*
They checked into the Sweet Haven motel, which proved to be just that. It gave them a place to plan and regroup. A few phone calls took care of the utilities. 'Fingering' through the yellow pages turned up a house inspector. If the size of Joe Watts' ad was any indication, he must be good, Charlie thought, as she dialed the number. She was not entirely prepared for the too perky feminine voice on the other end. "Watt's here! Watts can we do for you today?" Stifling a groan, she told her and a meeting was arranged for 10AM the following morning.
By the next day, two bottles of wine and a good night's sleep had put both of them in a more optimistic mood. The blue-skied, sunny morning was the capper! Leaving Freddie at the motel after getting the maid's promise she would walk him if they were running late, they headed to the closest café. Over breakfast, they promised each other that they wouldn't look at the 'mountain' ahead, just take each bump in the road as it came along.
Afterwards they drove to Hensley Hall, where a white pickup with 'Watts Here Inspections' painted on its side was waiting in the drive, when they pulled up. The house looked different today. "It doesn't look so" Meg began, looking around and smiling.
"Gloomy and forbidding," Charlie supplied with an identical smile of her own.
"And sinister," Meg added. "Today I can almost believe that whatever we experienced here yesterday was nothing more than our Ravynne imaginations on overdrive."
Suddenly, Charlie found herself laughing till her sides ached. "You mean 'Watts-ever' we experienced yesterday, don't you? I'm more than happy to believe that if you are," she managed to say, laughing harder still at Meg's bewildered expression. "Stop looking at me like that or I'm going to get the hiccups. And here comes Watts now, if I'm not mistaken."
He appeared from around the side of the house, a portly man in jeans and sporting a 'Watts Here' t-shirt, which made Charlie laugh even harder until Meg punched her hard in the arm. "Stop that or he'll think we're both crazy," she muttered under her breath.
"Ow! And he'd be wrong?" Charlie muttered back.
"Morning ladies, Watts here!' he said with a grin. "You must be the gals who won this place."
"The very ones," Charlie replied dryly. "What do you think so far?"
"Good question, young lady, good question. Way back when, the whole town thought it mighty strange lumber baron Hensley built this place outta brick instead of timber, but he built it like a brick shit house...excuse me ladies. Look at that roofline...straight as a string! Some of the tiles are missing, but after more than a hundred and fifty years it's in pretty good shape. A helluva lot better than what I'd expected."
The sisters smiled at each other and Meg said, "Well, that's great, I guess."
"Before you get too excited, there's a lot wrong, too. From what I can see just on the outside, the soufitts, the porches...front and back... and all that gingerbread crap is in pretty rough shape. How about we take a look inside. I'm only going to get a rough idea today of what we're up against. I'll need to bring in a plumber, an electrician, someone to check the well and septic...no city water and sewer out here, ladies and an HVAC guy, so I can give you the big picture."
"Well, here goes," Meg whispered to Charlie, as they all climbed the steps. Both sisters held their breath, as they stepped inside. Sunlight followed them into the great hall, which was already well lit from the doors they had opened yesterday. Everything seemed so different! It no longer felt like the same house. The heaviness seemed lifted and both sisters heaved a sigh of relief.
"Do you think we'll have any problem finding people to work out here?" Charlie asked the inspector who was leaning over, looking up the stairwell.
Shoving his hands in his pockets he squinted, speculatively, at each of them in turn. "Well...as to that"
They waited for the 'haunted' bomb to drop from his lips, so they were both surprised when he said, "With the economy being what it is, especially here 'bouts, you're not likely to have a problem there, but this old place has sort of a bad luck reputation," he drawled at a snail's pace.
"Meaning what exactly?" Meg asked before her sister could.
He seemed to be enjoying himself way too much and Charlie had to resist an impulse to speed him up with a swift 'unladylike' kick.
"Well, let's see. The Hensley lumber baron I told you about, remember? There was some talk back then that he did something to one of the maids. Killed her afterwards. But it was hushed up and then he drowned in a sailing accident and took three of his boys down with him. Each generation after that had something bad happen...sudden deaths...that kind of thing, then we come to the last of 'em...."
The very Hensleys who had died so 'peacefully', Charlie thought wryly, "Go on. We want to know everything!"
He shrugged and blew his nose into a yellow bandana, "Pardon me..."
"Ladies," Charlie supplied impatiently. "Go on!"
He shot her an injured look, but drawled on," Gotta remember this all started mor'en forty years ago. First the daughter goes and disappears just after them other town girls were murdered. Never found her. Then her brother...twin he was...just run off and got hisself killed in a train wreck up north some place," he paused and looked at them. "You sure you want to hear the rest? You ladies plan on living here, right?"
Both sisters really felt like screaming 'no way!' but Meg said quietly, "Go on. I think we need to hear everything for that very reason."
"The Hensleys you got the house off of...the ones who owed all them back taxes and let the house go to shit? They died right here."
"In the house. We already know that. They died here quite peacefully," Charlie prompted.
"Hell, no! You got the first part right, but it sure weren't peaceful. Not by a long shot! It was a double suicide. They found em danglin' from that broken rail just above your heads dead as mackerels. Way dead almost a week from what the papers had to say."
Charlie and Meg looked up at the broken rail and then at each other. "How awful," Meg said, sadly.
"Guess they had plenty of reasons to take that way out...kids dead...though no one knows for sure about the daughter. Lost his money in some get rich scheme...the taxes...the house falling down around them and they was both as old as dirt. In their eighties and kinda frail and..."
He was feeling way too expansive and had to be stopped. "Okay...okay! We get the picture," Charlie said, afraid Meg would succumb to tears at any moment. What they both needed was a good dose of sunlight and blue sky. "Look around to your heart's content. We'll be outside," she said, wrapping her arm around Meg's shoulder and leading her out.
Sitting on the front steps, their thoughts ran along the same line. Their worst suspicions had just been confirmed. The Hensleys had died an ugly death...their restless spirits were quite probably still lingering about....and it made good sense to chuck their losses and get out while they could. Though how they would unload the house again was a mystery, even if they could bring themselves to take advantage of some poor trusting soul. Probably one with plans for a B&B and all the nonsense they had been dreaming about!
Meg was the first to speak, "I know we both want to run for the hills, but it's not really an option, is it? We're meant to be here, Charlie. We felt like that, you felt like that, right from the very beginning and nothing's really changed. I mean, we kind of suspected the Hensleys had not died exactly as we were led to believe, but we've made a commitment. And, you have to admit, the house has felt much friendlier today!"
Charlie hugged her knees and sighed. 'Bad luck' and 'haunted' weren't adjectives conducive to making their dreams come true, but the house was theirs now and she had believed, did believe, they were meant to be here. "Just be careful, Meg. You are like an empath. You feel way too much. This place could hurt you if you get to close to the pain I know you felt in there."
Meg yanked her ponytail really hard. "You, on the other hand, think too much. I'm fine. How about we go back inside and explore our new home top to bottom?"
And that's what they did. They started by climbing up two flights of stairs, pausing at the landings to look out at the grounds below. "Lots of work, but it will be beautiful. See that climbing rose? And look at that pond, or tiny little lake, under the trees. Won't that be fun?" Meg exclaimed.
But Charlie was already seeing dollar signs with every step. "More fun than we can afford just now," she muttered.
At the end of the long corridor that bisected the third floor, they found the narrow, steep attic stairs and climbed to what must have once been the servants' quarters. Light filtered through the dormer windows that marched across both sides of the cavernous space. Judging from the narrow iron cots stacked against the wall, it had been the drafty, cold home of the 'lesser' staff...the housemaids. They were sure the butler, housekeeper and cook had fared much better.
Crossing the dust coated floor, that echoed hollowly with each step, they opened the doors to storage rooms filled to the rafters with cast off pieces of the Hensleys' lives...heavy antique Victorian furniture, boxes, steamer trunks, lamps with missing shades and some with shades that ought to be missing. The taste and style of another era. It was a treasure trove to explore at another time.
They retraced their steps to the third floor and began opening the doors on both sides of the hall. The first turned out to be a schoolroom. The breeze through a broken window flapped the world map that hung above the blackboard and set a rocking horse, its mane and tail long missing, bobbing back and forth, as though it still carried a little rider. Ink stained desks took up the center of the large room. A chair lay on its side. Bookcases covered most of two walls. Tthough covered with dust, they still offered a spot of color against the grayness of the room.
Meg shivered. "It's not a happy place. I can feel it, " she told Charlie, not mentioning what she heard. The slam of a rod or cane on flesh...the whimper of a child.
Closing the door behind them, they continued down the hall, looking in the rooms they passed. All were simply decorated without the little things one would associate with children, though one small bed had a tattered flop-eared rabbit lying on the dusty pillow. The remaining rooms on that end of the hall had obviously housed the nanny, nurse and tutor. The far end of the hall was divided into apartments for the housekeeper, and butler. They were furnished with solid, serviceable furniture and as colorless as the rest of the rooms on this floor.
They descended to the second floor, which was more lavish, or had been at one time, but now the hall runner was worn thin and the rich walnut paneling dingy with grime and dust. Overhead, they could hear footsteps moving about. "Just Watts," Charlie told Meg who nodded in reply, mostly because they both wanted to believe it.
Opening the first door, they looked inside. The furniture was covered with time-yellowed sheets, the drapes pulled against the fading effects of the sun. When Meg yanked them back, she sent a swirl of dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight that penetrated the ivy covering most of the window. The floorboards creaked, as Charlie crossed the room and opened a small door. It had been a dressing room at one time, but some affluent Hensley...1930s maybe?... had converted it to a small bath.
Meg leaned under her arm and looked around. "Wow! Look at that beautiful claw foot tub! You do realize if this one has been converted, we might luck out and find whoever did this didn't stop here. En-suite rooms will be a big bonus, though we're going to have to add one of those shower ring thingies around the tub for those that don't like to soak, but that won't cost much, right?" Meg asked.
Meg, thankfully, couldn't hear what Charlie muttered under her breath, as she eyed the ruined floors and mildewed walls. It seemed her glass was always going to be 'half empty' to Meg's 'half full'. "I can picture it now, Meg, let's go see what other 'treasures' we can uncover." If Meg detected the sarcasm in her tone, she didn't comment on it.
The next rooms must have been the late Hensleys' suite, they decided, when they opened the first door and looked inside. It appeared as though the late Mrs. Hensley had just stepped away. A ruby coverlet was pulled back and an old fashioned but expensive silk robe lay across the foot of the double bed. Toiletries covered the dresser and a book was turned upside down on the bedside table.
The door to the adjoining room was locked and the sisters were forced to enter it from the hall. It was littered with dirty clothes...the bedding in the same state. An aura lingered there and it wasn't just the smell! Whatever it was had Meg saying, "Let's get out of here, Charlie. It's starting to get strange in here."
Charlie knew what she meant. The atmosphere felt like a spring wound too tightly and about to let go at any minute.
They didn't beat a hasty retreat, but they didn't waste any time either. They were both glad when the door clicked shut behind them. Continuing down the hall, they glanced briefly in room after another until they opened the second door from the last.
The walls were covered with pink rose wallpaper. A tall canopied four-poster bed dominated the center of the room. It was covered in deep pink silk that had begun to crumble. A thick pink and white Aubusson carpet covered the wide plank floor. But what caught both their attentions was the portrait above the marble mantle. It was a beautifully executed portrait of a young girl...teens?...in a white organza dress with a blue satin sash. Her long hair was black with blue highlights, her eyes, a deep clear gray, had the far away look of a sleep walker. She was very beautiful and seemed so very sad.
"This must be her room...the one that disappeared, though I don't know why she has a picture of herself here. She kind of looks familiar. But look, Charlie, this room is perfect for you. There's even a view of my 'someday' garden down there. And I'll bet there's a bathroom behind this door," she told her, opening it to prove her point. "And look at this armoire...it still has all her clothes in it...nice ones, too. It looks like she just stepped away."
The room was pretty, beautiful even, but way too 'girlie' for Charlie's taste. "You take it, Meg! It suits you perfectly. Let's go next door and see what's there."
Next door had clearly been a boy's room...her twin? It was decorated in a dark slate blue...drapes, bedding, right down to the walls. The armoire doors leaned open. Unlike Breanna's, it was empty. In fact, the entire room had been stripped of anything personal except for two large glass cases filled with long dead butterflies. There must have been hundreds of them, each stuck on their pin and neatly labeled. "Ugh!" Meg exclaimed.
"Those will have to go, but otherwise, this should do quite nicely. I'll be close enough to hear your screams and, if I don't miss my guess, that door leads to the tower just like the other one at the opposite end of the hall."
And it did. It was a small sitting room, or had been once. Now it was filled with the boxes that hadn't made it to the attic. One window was broken...the one they had seen the crow fly into, when they first arrived. Bird droppings and feathers littered the floor that had warped from the onslaught of rain over how many years? More than enough to do a lot of damage.
"This will be the perfect place to write. Something I have to get back to or I'll have to return my advance, which is not a good thing for either of us. Let's look around downstairs and then hunt up Mr. Watts, if he hasn't run screaming into the woods yet," Charlie told Meg.
They found the door to the servants' stairs just outside and followed it down to the kitchen. It looked and felt different today. It was the sun pouring in the window, and the absence of whatever had been there yesterday, that had completely changed the atmosphere. All in all, the house and its inhabitants seemed to be on their best behavior today and both sisters were grateful.
Poking around the kitchen area, they found the scullery, the staff dining room, the pantries, and the cook's small bed-sitting room. Then, one by one, they walked through each of the remaining rooms on the main floor. The rich paneling was scarred, the floors were stained and worn, the plaster crumbling from the damp. The list went on and on, but they marveled at the beautiful mouldings, the elaborate marble mantles, the ceiling rosettes and hanging chandeliers. Some of the heavy Victorian furniture they saw up in the attics would be beautiful down here. Hopefully, they would find enough pieces to furnish the place if they stretched it a bit thin. A few potted plants could fill in a lot of space!
But the library wing was much more than they could have imagined! It was floor to ceiling bookcases filled with old, beautifully bound books that had both Meg and Charlie wondering why Mrs. Brown hadn't absconded with the lot! A fireplace, bracketed by French doors that led into what might have passed for the Amazonian jungle, gaped blackly along one wall.
"Guess I have all the gardening I need to keep me busy for the rest of my life!" Meg said with just a hint of desperation.
Charlie smiled. "You can garden, while I write. Which reminds me. I need to finish that chapter I began yesterday and you need to take Freddie out for a walk. Let's find Watts, shall we?'
"You do know that this place is absolutely beautiful under all this" Meg said with a sigh.
"All this grime, mold, dust, bird poop and falling down on our heads disrepair? Yes, it is. And someday, not soon and praying we don't run completely out of money, this will be all we hoped for. I know it will," Charlie finished for her.
"And if we can just get the Hensleys...all of them...to cut us a little slack, it will happen. What are you going to call it, anyway?"
"I assume you mean our B&B? We'll need to give that some thought," Charlie replied with a grin. "Needless to say, we won't be sending out brochures any time soon!"
Watts inspection report wasn't entirely bad. The copper plumbing, and wiring had been updated sometime in the seventies. The well and pump were in working order, but the drainfield was another matter, as was the roof. Water damage in the attics and walls would need to be addressed, but the basic structure was sound right down to the stone foundation and dirt floor cellars.
The needed repairs were daunting. Ivy would need to be torn away and the brick walls and chimneys re-pointed, where the mortar had crumbled. Fireplaces, "if they wanted them to work", needed stainless steel double walled flues inserted. And that was just the beginning of a very long list that didn't even begin to include the grounds.
Once they'd transferred their entire life savings to the local back, Meg and Charlie began the hunt for a 'honest, reliable' general contractor. After a number of interviews, they agreed on Moe Swenson. His references checked out...everyone thought he was 'excellent', 'very professional' and knows how to 'work in budget'. The last bit was the deciding factor, though his appearance didn't hurt. While accusing each other of being 'shallow', Meg and Charlie both couldn't help but notice his lumberjack size, curly blonde hair with just a touch of gray, and intelligent blue eyes fanned with laugh lines. He was a hunk right down to the jeans hugging a tight, well-shaped rear end. "We know we aren't picking him just because he has a nice you know what, but I still feel a little guilty I'm even thinking along those lines," Meg told Charlie.
Charlie laughed. "Neither of us is so long in the tooth we can't appreciate a guy like that. Let's just give him a call and see when he can start."
And she did. They met him at the house the next day. "You two have taken on a load," he told them, pushing his baseball cap to the back of his head and giving a low whistle. "I've heard about Hensley Hall all my life, but this is the first time I've been here. It's a beauty! You sure you both know what you've gotten yourselves into here?"
"Only too well," Charlie replied. "Here's the inspection report. We'll need you to tell us where to even begin!"
Taking the report, Moe disappeared inside the house, while the sisters waited outside. Both were quiet...the only sounds were a few rustles and twitters from the overgrown bushes. Birds they both hoped. "Don't you think he should be back by now?" Meg asked. "You don't think something happened to him, do you? We don't want him scared out of his wits before he even begins!"
"Better than 'after' he begins. But something tells me it would take more than a ghost or two to frighten Moe Swenson" Charlie began just as the door opened behind them.
"Well, roof first. Then the drain field needs to be redone and the hot water heater replaced. You'll need to tell me what bathrooms you'll be needing. The stove and refrigerator both work but... You can check that out for yourselves after you've eaten lunch. We can get you out of that motel and here pretty fast if you don't mind living with all the mess. This renovation is going to take a lot of time and money. What kind of budget are we working with here?" he asked looking from one to the other.
"Well, as to that, we'll need some figures from you so we can see how far we can go," Charlie began.
"And we can help! Charlie's good with tools and I know about gardening and stuff"
Moe grimaced and then grinned. "Not usually a good idea having the owners on the job site, but I'm not going to turn down a pair of 'experienced' hands. I'll make some phone calls and round up a crew. But first I have to get the permits we need."
"Any problem with that?" Meg asked before Charlie could.
"You might be dealing with the Historical Society for one. They'll want everything restored to their standards. But they might want to cut you some slack, considering this house has been an eyesore for years. As far as getting the help we need goes, with things as they are in town right now, there'll be plenty of guys willing to work out here, but I'd be surprised if anyone stayed after dark."
"Because they all have wives and children waiting at home with their nice hot supper, right?" Charlie found herself asking dryly.
He laughed and she liked the sound of it. Deep and so very male! "Not exactly! Something tells me you already know the reason. I'm headed down to deal with the bureaucracy. If all goes well, I'll see you bright and early Friday morning!"
All went well. Permits were rushed through and the Historical Society gave them a free, if 'dismissive' hand, so Moe and his crew pitched right in. If they didn't look all that happy about being there, they made sure neither Meg nor Charlie heard them grumble. And the house, surprisingly, appeared willing to cooperate. It seemed just like any other huge, moldering mansion with no hidden agenda. And, if Meg heard or felt anything stirring about, she wisely kept it to herself.
Freddie remained at the motel (under Hannah, the maid's capable care), as, day after day, Meg and Charlie tackled whatever needed doing. First, they emptied out the kitchen, hauling out boxes and bags of yellowed newspapers, outdated can goods, chipped and cracked dishes, and stuff that time and damp had reduced to mush. The stove was filthy with years of accumulated grease, while the fridge was full of food that had morphed into moldy lumps years before. Gagging and choking, Meg and Charlie dug in.
Finally, hours later, after the floor, walls, cabinets, sinks and windows had been scrubbed clean, they each pulled up a chair and sat down. "It looks great! I mean it needs paint and new appliances and the cupboards replaced, but we did a great job, don't you think?" Meg asked, looking around proudly.
Charlie nodded. "I think we should keep the glass fronted cupboards. And I really like this table. The tile floor is really beautiful now that we can see it. It's quite a nice room and usable now."
Meg smiled. "Which means one of us will have to cook. I was kind of enjoying the 'eating out' thing."
"That makes two of us...three if you count Freddie's doggie bags."
\*\*\*
They moved their efforts to the second floor bedrooms they had chosen....the 'Rose Room' and the 'Blue Room'. .Stripping the beds, including the remnants of the lace canopy, they bagged it all, then rolled up the carpets and dragged them into the hall. They gathered the clothes from the armoire and dresser and boxed them neatly for the nearest thrift store. Going back inside the 'Blue Room', Charlie looked at the butterfly cases hanging on the walls and grimaced. "These will have to go before I'll sleep a wink in here. They really give me the creeps."
Meg nodded. "Why would anyone want to do that to a butterfly! And hundreds of them to boot! What will we do with them?"
"How about donating them to the public library," Moe said from the doorway, his long length taking up all the space. "Not the thing I'd want hanging around either, but Mrs. Shotz might be interested. She'd be the one to talk to and, if you have them with you, it might be harder to say 'no'. By the way, the plumber wants to get in your bathrooms. The one in the pink room has a leak around the toilet, needs a new wax seal, and the one in here has a busted faucet. Meanwhile, I'll get these taken down and hauled to your truck. And I'll get those carpets out of the hall. What do you want me to do with them?"
Meg replied, "It needs a good cleaning, but I want to keep the pink and white one. The other can go in the dumpster, unless you want to keep it, Charlie?"
"No, there's not much in here I want to keep. Thanks for helping with the cases, Moe, they do look awfully heavy," Charlie said with the first hint of feminine helplessness Meg had ever heard her big sister utter. Despite Charlie's pointed scowls, she was still laughing, after Moe had loaded the truck and they were headed towards town.
\*\*\*
As it turned out, Mrs. Shotz was more than happy to accept their 'donation' and she was even happier to have cornered the pair who'd won Hensley Hall and taken it off the town's hands.
"Would have been there to greet you, when you first came to town, but some of us have to work for a living, don't we? I know the real reason you're here, girls. You want to find out about that house of yours, right?" she asked with a glint in her close set eyes, then continued without waiting for a reply. "Now what would you like to hear about first, the suicides, the disappearance, or the murders?"
With a smorgasbord of horrors like that to choose from, where to begin, Charlie thought dryly, then said. "The murders...that was probably forty years ago? What happened?"
Mrs. Shotz paused for a long moment strictly for dramatic effect, Charlie thought, then began. "Of course, I was barely a child myself back then, so I do hope you'll understand if my memory is a bit spotty. Anyway, Merritsville had three girls dead and one missing. Breanna...the missing one...was one of the Hensleys. The Hensleys of Hensley Hall. Your place now.
"They found the others. Dead as door nails...all beautiful girls still in their teens. Went to high school with Breanna. Were friends of hers. It was monstrous. Simply monstrous! All found naked as the day they were born and...you know...molested. Brutally, like some wild animal! It was shocking...just shocking! They called him the 'Stoneman'." She paused again savoring the anticipation.
"The 'Stoneman'?" Charlie prompted her.
Mrs. Shotz used the well practiced stare of the seasoned librarian...one that was meant to shoot down the most hardened offender and Charlie had just trod on Mrs Shotz story. "Sh-h-h-hh! If you want to hear the rest you will need to be quiet. Now where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Oh, yes! He was called the 'Stoneman' because of the way he left his victims." Another long pause that had Charlie opening her mouth again, just as Meg pinched her underarm. Hard! "He put a stone in their mouths and taped it shut....their mouths, can you believe it?. Then he taped their eyes shut, .though I don't know if it was the eyes or the mouth he taped up first. Neat job of it from what I heard!
"It was really horrible. Nobody slept sound around here for months. The police had several persons of interest in mind."
"Who were they?" Charlie asked, risking another 'shushing'.
Mrs. Shotz smiled thinly and without humor. "A couple of outsiders, at first, but they didn't amount to much. After Bea's autopsy, she was the second victim, they thought her boyfriend was the killer. Can't remember his name. Wild as the devil, he was, and just as mean from all I heard. The papers said that Bea was in a family way and he didn't want to be saddled with a wife and kids. Ended up hanging himself before they arrested him, which was kind of strange. Didn't seem the kind to take that way out. More the bolt and run type. Then there was a third murder and he was dead, so they looked elsewhere."
"If he was 'the bolt and run type' why didn't he do just that? And why kill the first victim?" Charlie asked.
"Red herring! He knew he'd be the first one the police came after and he wanted to make it look like a serial killer was responsible," Mrs. Shotz told her smugly and with a twitch of irritation.
"That seems a little extreme to me. So there was another killing after he committed suicide, who was the next suspect?"
"That brother of Breanna's. Always thought he was a weird duck. Fraternal twins they were, but looked almost identical except for the gender difference, of course. He went crazy as a two-headed loon, though, when she disappeared right after the third girl was murdered. Went around looking for her and then he just walked off, before the police could collar him. His parents didn't seem sorry to see him gone in this woman's opinion, but they missed Breanna. He died in a train wreck up north some place...they shipped his body back here and buried him in the family mauseleum."
"About the twins, could you tell us...?" Charlie began to ask.
"As I said. I'm busy. If you want to know more about the twins you ought to visit Nell Arnold up at Sunnyvale Nursing Home. She was their nanny. Could tell you all you need to know and then some, if she still has her wits about her. Though I never did think she was holding on to much in that department, if you ask me."
"Thank you for the information, Mrs. Shotz. We won't take up any more of your valuable time," Charlie told her wryly.
Her sarcasm was wasted on Mrs. Shotz. "Thank you for your lovely donation. I have just the place for them," she said with her thin-lipped smile, and both sisters were very sure she had!
\*\*\*
Both sisters were thoughtful on the drive back. To say that their house had a 'bad luck' history was an understatement and a half! No wonder the spirits that haunted it were restless!
"Maybe the 'weird duck' twin was responsible for the murders," Meg said, studying her sister's reaction.
"You mean the butterfly collector and the former occupant of the bedroom I'm supposed to sleep in? Who knows? Maybe, he was, but it wouldn't be the first time the cops got it wrong. We just don't know enough," Charlie told her.
"A trip to the nanny should tell us a lot more. Whatever is in that house needs us. It's up to us to find out what that is and help if we can. This Nell Arnold, .if she's still lucid, sounds like a pretty good place to start," Meg replied.
"Or the police. It's a closed case now, but they'll still have all the investigative evidence. But will they let us take a look?" Charlie asked with one raised brow, a trick her sister envied and never mastered.
"Bat your eyes at them. You were doing a great job of fluttering those long lashes at Moe just before we left," Meg told her sister. Seeing her blush...something Charlie rarely did...triggered a bout of laughter, until Charlie pulled off the road and faced her. "I wasn't batting anything, but, if you keep laughing like a lunatic, I may consider batting you!"
But that only made Meg laugh harder. When she had finally wound to a stop, Charlie sighed and said, "Let's take the rest of the day off. Clearly, we're starting to get a little punchy...bad choice of words...a little hysterical and I suggest we spend the rest of the day shopping. Something I know you like to do."
"We need sheets, blankets, towels, dishes, pots and pans..."
Charlie let Meg rattle on, as she pulled back on the road and headed to the closest thing to a mall in Merritsville. Several hours later and well past dark, they headed back to the motel. Pulling in front of their room, Charlie leaned back and sighed, "We're going to leave everything in the back. We're both too pooped to be unloading all that. I don't care if every sheet and towel thief in Merritsville shows up here tonight."
"And the pots and pans thief"
"Right! How could I forget them? Tomorrow, we'll stock the fridge, finish cleaning the bedrooms and baths, then come back here for Freddie. If we can pry him away from Hannah. I think she'd like to keep him. "
"As though that will ever happen! Just think. Tomorrow we can spend our first night in our new home...all three of us together. Won't that be great?"
Charlie sighed, which was getting to be a habit with her and not a good one, she thought. "I sure hope so," she managed to reply.
\*\*\*
The next day was Sunday and the place deserted when they pulled up in front of the house. Already, it looked so different! With much of the ivy pulled away, it seemed kind of naked, Meg thought, smaller and vulnerable, like an old woman caught in just her bloomers. "Okay, first day, and night, in our new home. Feels like we ought to have someone carry us both over the threshold, don't you think? Someone like Moe?"
"You just won't quit, will you?" Charlie asked with exaggerated patience. "Might as well drive around to the back door. It will be a lot easier to unload everything from there."
"We can do that later. I want to open the front door first and walk in like we own this place!" Meg said with a huge smile. "Imagine us, the mistresses of Hensley Hall! We'll have to change that of course...maybe Ravynne's Roost? Anyway, that's what I want to do!"
"Well, come on then. The front hall's not been cleaned yet, but the railing has been fixed, so we don't have to look at that reminder dangling over our heads."
Meg opened the Ford's door and slid out. Freddie jumped down and sniffed the air, then the ground, and finally the porch, where he lifted one leg and peed. Charlie raised an eyebrow and Meg laughed. "He's just marking his territory. I think that's a good sign."
"As long as he confines his 'marking' to the outside. Here goes, Meg. The moment we have been waiting for. Drum roll please," Charlie said, as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
Meg sighed, dramatically, and stepped inside. Charlie followed on her heels, but Freddie didn't. In fact, Freddie sat on his haunches just outside the threshold and howled. Something neither sister knew he was capable of. As howls went it was almost wolf-like and Freddie seemed rather proud and perhaps a little surprised that it had emanated from him.
"Well, here's a problem we hadn't anticipated. What do we do now?" Meg asked.
"I suppose we could drape one of your new sheets over his head and carry him inside," mused Charlie.
"Don't even say that out loud! He can hear you, you know. He would be terrified!"
"More than he is now? Well, yard dog isn't a possibility, so what is your brilliant plan?"
"Bribe him with food. I have jelly doughnuts in the truck that were meant for us, but whatever it takes. He loves doughnuts!"
But it didn't work. Freddie sniffed the air, eyed the jelly doughnut with real longing, and then looked at Meg. If a dog could sigh, she swore that was what she heard, but he didn't budge from the porch. "Freddie, please. No one is going to hurt you. I wouldn't let them. Please!" she begged. Freddie whined, wriggled his bottom and plunked down, resting his chin on his crossed front legs.
"Any other brilliant ideas?" Charlie asked, trying not to laugh at her clearly frustrated sister.
"I suppose I could lie on the cleanest part of this floor, though I really don't want to, and moan," Meg told her thoughtfully.
"And moan?
"He'll try to rescue me! In case you haven't noticed, he's very protective of me," Meg told her with a touch of pride.
"That's not the way I heard it from your very lips not that long ago. And how are you going to keep him inside, moan indefinitely? I for one won't be able to handle that."
Meg shot her a squelching look. "I'm hoping that once he's inside, he'll want to stay. And, of course, you'll close the door behind him."
"There's a blanket behind the seat in the truck. I'll go get it. I don't want to miss a minute of this," Charlie replied.
She was back in moments. With Freddie watching from the porch, his shaggy white head cocked quizzically, Meg caught the blanket Charlie threw her and spread it out on the black and white marble floor.
Lying on her back she looked up at the deeply shadowed ceiling some distance above her head. She had a pretty good idea of how ridiculous she looked and found herself repressing a giggle. Something Charlie didn't bother to hide. In fact, she was laughing quite loudly in a really irritating way.
Clearing her throat, Meg experimented with a variety of moans settling on one that sounded like a strangled cat. She was well into her third one...her best so far...when Freddie had had enough. In three bounds, he cleared the threshold and landed on top of her.
Laughing, Meg held her wriggling dog and wiped his spit from her well-licked face. "See! A mother knows her fur child!" she said just as Freddie bristled and took off at a run, chasing something down the hall towards the back of the house. "I've only seen him do that when he's had a squirrel or a cat in his sights. But at least he's headed in the right direction. I'll follow him, while you can drive around to the back. We can toss a coin to see who fixes lunch?"
Charlie was still laughing too hard to reply
\*\*\*
It was nice to have a real fridge again even an avocado green one. The 'mini' they'd suffered with at the motel could barely hold the doggie bags and leftovers from every restaurant in Merritsville. Charlie lost the coin toss and made lunch, while Meg made a gallon of 'sun' tea. When Charlie shot her an inquiring look, she explained, "It makes me feel homey. Remember the great sun tea Sage made for all of us?"
They took their time over lunch, cracking open a bottle of wine, and the hours flew past, as they shared mutual memories, some good and some they could have done without. "But if we're happy where we are, it doesn't matter how many roads it took to get here," Meg reminded her. Charlie watched her sister babble on, as she often did, and smiled to herself. It was so good to see her happy and excited again. That made everything worth it. At least everything so far!
The dishes were a mutual effort and then Charlie told her, "Time we unloaded the rest of our stuff and finished upstairs before it gets too late."
Meg looked around. It was already late afternoon and the night would follow close on its heels. Already she could feel the atmosphere in the house shift and change. It was beginning to exude a waiting hushed expectancy. Meg hoped, rather desperately, that it wasn't going to be the "got you now' kind!
Bit by bit and bag by bag, they carried their purchases through the kitchen and up the servants stairs that opened on the second floor right outside their doors. Together they dragged up the new area rug for Charlie's 'Blue Room'. Spreading it out on the floor, they stepped back to admire it, while Freddie plunked down in the middle and rolled around, making funny little noises in his throat that Meg interpreted as 'expressions of delight'. "As long as he doesn't pee on it, I'm happy to share, " Charlie told her dryly.
"Just wait. This is only the beginning. Some paint, a few pictures on the walls.... Look at your little balcony and the fireplace is exquisite, not as exquisite as mine, but that's to be expected. This was a boy's room after all."
"And you needed to remind me of that, didn't you? Here," Charlie said, tossing her sister a plastic wrapped mattress cover.
"You don't really think this is the bed of a murderer, do you?" Meg asked her, as she ripped off the wrapping.
"Maybe. "
"I never like it when you use that tone and scowl like that at the same time. Maybe? What does that mean?"
"After Devon left town, the killings stopped, remember?"
"So you do think that Devon is the murderer?" Meg asked.
"We're back to 'maybe'. I've seen 'police evidence' before. That's why Rayne was charged with murder. Never mind, let's finish up here and then do yours. That was all a very long time ago, anyway," Charlie told her.
Freddie watched from his rug, as they made the bed and moved on to the bathroom, where a new bath rug and bright turquoise towels made quite a difference. When they opened the door to Meg's room, they were both surprised to see a tail wagging Freddie push past them and bound into the middle of the four-poster bed.
"Get down, Freddie!" His tail thumped even harder. "All right. Have it your way. I don't think you'll like being a bed lump," Meg threatened.
But, apparently he did! Burrowing like a mole under the mattress cover they laughingly tossed over him, he seemed to be enjoying himself way too much. When they had had enough, even if he didn't, they peeled back the cover. He blinked, owlishly, up at them, then uttered a single 'woof', which could have meant anything.
Meg lifted him down and they finished with the bed, pulling a rose chintz duvet over the top and stuffing the matching shams with their newly purchased pillows. Neither noticed Freddie's interest in a spot just left of the fireplace, or the way his eyes tracked something, or someone, across the room and out the door.
After their rooms were ready, they headed down to the kitchen , where Meg made supper...a warmed up rotisserie chicken from the deli and a tub of potato salad from the same place. Plans were discussed. They decided they would take it room by room, as they could afford it, once Moe and his men were finished with all the 'necessaries".
"I'm glad my DSL line will be in tomorrow," Charlie said. "The tower room will be a perfect place to write. And I'm going to have to do a lot of it, if we're going to be able to keep up with what this house sucks in!"
"There will still be a lot on hammering and sawing going on till Moe's finished. You could try using that 'sound machine' I bought for you back in the apartment, when you told me I made too much noise even breathing."
Charlie laughed and said, "Sounds like a good idea. Toss you for the dishes?"
\*\*\*
After they'd finished in the kitchen, they decided to grab a book from the library and head upstairs. Their bedrooms seemed like a sanctuary to them both just then. A place to 'hole up' and keep the rest of the house at bay.
The huge house was already a place of shadows that swirled like mist along the edges of their awareness, as they made their way down the long hall to the library wing. A sly whispering seemed to follow them...not hostile...more curious than anything else, both sisters thought, but neither mentioned what they heard. It was almost dark and probably not a good time to be 'spooking' each other.
Opening the library door, they flipped on the lights and looked around. The sun's last gasp threw up tangerine, purple and red colors against the sky. Meg opened the French doors and stepped out on the fieldstone terrace, while Freddie headed into the bushes for his last leg lift of the night. A bird called and another answered. Cardinals, Meg thought, getting ready to roost. Unlike most people she knew, they mated for life. She sighed and called Freddie, who was sniffing the base of a tree. Stepping back inside, she looked around and found Charlie sitting on the floor surrounded by a stack of books.
"Some great classics here, Meg. The Bronte sisters...Jane Austen. I think I'll re-read Wuthering Heights. Maybe we'll luck out and find some rare first edition."
Meg browsed the shelves and found a gardening book from the early part of the 1900s. Tucking it under her arm, she said, "Ready?"
Charlie nodded. "It's beginning to feel a little..."
"Heavy in here," Meg finished for her. "Nothing malevolent like that first day. Let's take the main stairs up since we're on this end of the house."
They climbed the sweeping staircase, averting their eyes as they passed the repaired railing. In the upper hall, Meg switched on the wall sconces that lined both sides of the long corridor, pushing back the shadows that seemed to flee behind the closed doors. With Freddie between them, his back bristling like a furry stegosaurus, they continued towards their rooms. Charlie broke the silence first, "I know it's probably just my imagination, but it feels like each of these doors has someone on the other side, listening to us as we pass. I know I can depend on you to tell me I'm just being silly, right?" she whispered.
"You are just being silly," Meg whispered back.
"You're lying, aren't you?"
"You bet!"
Finally, they reached their 'sanctuaries' and opened their doors, glad they had left the lights on, when they'd left earlier. "You sure you want to spend the night all alone? You know you can stay with me...you and your fur child," Charlie told her with a worried frown.
"Thanks, but no thanks. If we want this to be our home, we need to at least be able to sleep in our own beds. Besides, it looks like Freddie has already settled in for the night! He seems to really like this room for some reason," she said.
After a hug, both sisters went into their rooms and closed their doors behind them. Charlie made her way into the bathroom and smiled as she looked around. Pulling the shower curtain shut, she adjusted the water temperature. Stripping off her jeans and tank top, she studied herself in the full-length mirror fastened to the bathroom door.
She was tall, still slim, but not quite as slim as she once was. Pulling the scrunchie off her ponytail, she shook her hair loose to fall like silk over her shoulders and breasts...good breasts still high and firm. She studied her face. Paul had told her she was beautiful. She wasn't sure about that, though she liked her gray eyes fringed with surprisingly dark lashes that matched the color of her winged eyebrows. There were laugh lines fanning out at the corners of her eyes and she liked them, too.
Paul had called her mouth 'generous', and she wasn't sure what he meant, but it must have been something good from all the attention he gave it. Her nose was a bit long to be considered perky, but she'd keep it. She smiled, realizing for the first time she could think about Paul without an overwhelming sadness. Healing. It took time and she had already given it a lot of that.
She made a face at herself in the mirror. How long it had been since she had taken inventory? Maybe Meg was right for once. Maybe Moe Swenson had stirred her up. She shook her head, laughed, blushed and snorted simultaneously. Which was definitely not a good look for her, she thought, as she turned and stepped into the shower.
A short time later, she wrapped herself in her terry robe and padded into the bedroom, then crossed to the balcony door. She opened it to the night wind and climbed into bed. Lying there, she watched the white sheers, they had hung earlier, billow in like restless ghosts. The Ravynne sisters had way too much imagination, herself included, she decided. Punching her pillow into shape, she turned over and was asleep in minutes.
Not so Meg. Meg had spent a long time soaking in the deep clawfoot tub. It was heaven. Simply heaven. After she had long passed the 'pruney' stage, she climbed out, toweled herself dry and pulled on one of her 'girlie gowns' as Charlie called them...a confection of ruffles edged in lace. Freddie was already sound asleep and she crawled in next to him, thinking about the doggie bed they had just purchased and would need to return. She should have known where Freddie would insist on sleeping!
She looked around slowly. It was a wonderful room, perfect for her. She glanced up at the canopy frame and pictured how pretty it would look when she found the right replacement, and the rose rug would be perfect once it was cleaned and back in place. She studied the marble fireplace with its roses and fat cherubs, then let her eyes drift up to the portrait above it. Breanna was certainly beautiful in an ethereal kind of way. Her eyes seemed focused on some distant place mere mortals would never see. How she must have loved sleeping in this bed, she thought, as she settled back with a sigh and opened the book she'd brought upstairs. She began to read, but her eyes quickly lost focus. Mumbling to herself she reached over and switched off the light. Moments later, she was sound asleep and snoring lightly with Freddie snugged up against her side, his shaggy head resting on the pillow next to hers.
Some time later she awoke with a start and sat straight up in bed. A sliver of moonlight found its way across the floor and brightened one corner, where a mist was forming. It was a slender spire that wavered, then moved purposefully across the room straight towards her. "Oh, my!" Meg whispered. Sensing spirits, hearing them, even having them touch you, wasn't the same thing as seeing one coming straight for you! She was about to scream down the house, when she heard it. Crying, the heartbroken kind of sobs and she knew: This was Breanna.
The spire twisted, writhed and churned, as it...she...continued to wail. Freddie's 'woof' got Meg's attention. He was sitting on his haunches, twisting his head from side to side, as puzzled and concerned as she was. She reached out and stroked his silky ears, "It's okay. It's just Breanna and I don't think she means us any harm."
"At least I hope not," she added under her breath, so he wouldn't hear.
The spire seemed to grow taller but the wailing had stopped. For which Meg was grateful. One could only take so much of that sort of thing. "Breanna, is that you?" There was no answer just a preternatural cold that made Meg shiver and pull her blankets up to her chin. "We only want to help you, be your friend, if you understand me tap on the bed post."
But 'Breanna' uttered a low moan, and began to disperse, taking the cold with her. With one very prolonged wail, she disappeared completely, leaving Meg and Freddie staring after her. Well, that was a little unnerving, Meg thought, not scary exactly, but definitely unsettling. She could use her big sister right about now.
Sliding out of bed, she padded across the room and opened the door. She checked the hall in both directions, thankful they had left the sconces lit when they went to bed. With Freddie next to her, she opened Charlie's door and slipped inside. She could see her in the moonlight, lying in a tangle of sheets and blankets. "Charlie," she whispered, "are you awake?" Just as she expected, her sister was sound asleep, totally unaware of what was happening next door.. A bit miffed, Meg threw the covers off her and bounced up on the bed next to her.
Charlie opened one eye and groaned. "Are you all right?"
Meg launched into full babble and Charlie just managed to understand that Breanna, in ghostly form, had just paid her a visit.
"She was crying...wailing quite loudly truth be told. I'm surprised you didn't hear her through the wall, though you were sleeping like the dead. I shouldn't use that metaphor, I guess, and she seemed so, well, needy and..."
Charlie clapped a hand over her sister's mouth and dragged her down to the pillow next to her. "I'm not psychically gifted, and I use that term loosely, as you are, Meg, but even I can feel something needs fixing here. If Breanna's a ghost, she must be dead."
Charlie could feel Meg's lips moving against her palm and pushed harder. "If she's dead, she didn't get there without some help. Of course, she could have had an accident of some kind, but..."
Unable to remain quiet another moment, Meg peeled her sister's hand away and burst out, "So, what do we do about it?"
"I think we need to visit with this nanny as soon as possible."
"I hope 'soon' means just that or I won't be getting any sleep at all," Meg said with a prolonged sigh. "Unlike some people I could name."
Charlie pulled back the blankets and patted the bed next to her. Meg didn't need a second invitation and neither did Freddie.
Meg took a moment to decide where she was, then stretched and looked around. at the gray beginning of a day that hadn't had a chance to see the sun yet. She was in the Blue Room with Charlie. The events of the night before came back with a rush and she shoved them aside to examine later. Something had wakened her. What was it? A whine and persistent pawing on the edge of the bed answered her question.
"Okay! Okay! I'm coming," she mumbled and looked over at her sister, who was still sleeping heavily with her blanket pulled over her head. Deciding she wasn't about to be the only one up and about, she pulled the blanket down and leaned close to her ear.
"Wakey! Wakey!" she called with every ounce of perkiness she could muster, which was way too much for her sister!. Charlie rolled over and gave her a baleful glare that should have stopped her, but it didn't. "Time to rise and shine!"
"As though that's ever likely to happen. What time is it anyway," Charlie mumbled, wondering why she hadn't noticed Meg's streak of sadistic perkiness before.
"Don't know. I'm headed downstairs with Freddie. Breakfast is in 30 minutes...one of my world famous UFOs. Be there!" Meg called over her shoulder, as she bounced off the bed and headed out the door.
Moaning, Charlie pulled her pillow over her head. UFO was Meg's code for 'unidentified fried object' one of her specialties. They really would have to look for a cook, as soon as they could afford one, or they would all be dead. Even the 'lint ball', since he ate as much of her cooking as they did! Not that her own 'cooking' contribution was any improvement.
Still moaning, she rolled off the bed and headed to the shower. Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a cup of coffee. Grimacing, she took a sip. Meg's coffee was worse than her UFOs, but Charlie was desperate!
Over breakfast, they discussed what happened the previous night. "I think today would be a good time to visit this Nell something or other and see what she can tell us," Meg said with a thoughtful frown. "Maybe we'll find out what Breanna wants and lay her to rest, or whatever we're supposed to do with her."
"We can leave right after they put in my DSL line. They're supposed to be here at 10AM," Charlie told her, as she slipped her UFO under the table, where Freddie waited. "As soon as I have Internet again, we can find out where this Sunnyvale Nursing Home is."
"We will have to bring Freddie along. We can't just leave him here all by himself and, besides, I hear they love to have animals...dogs...cats...whatever...visit nursing homes. Just look at him! He'll be a hit!" Meg enthused.
Charlie smiled and wisely kept her mouth shut.
\*\*\*
As it turned out, Sunnyvale Nursing Home was in Sunnyvale, as might have been expected...a small town some 30 miles away. Pulling into the parking lot they looked around at the sprawling white building with its columned portico jutting out over the drive. It was just after lunch and the grounds were deserted except for several employees on a 'smoking' break.
"Must be nap time. Maybe we should come back later," Meg said, looking around.
"Well, we're here now. Let's just go on in and see. Maybe Nell isn't the 'napping' kind," Charlie replied.
After emptying Freddie surreptitiously behind a bush, they crossed the courtyard and passed through the sliding electric doors. A middle-aged woman in a bright yellow tunic took their measure from her cubicle. The words 'Information' and 'Visitor Registration' hung over her head.
With Freddie tucked between them, they approached. "I see you have brought a little visitor, though it isn't "Pet" day today, is it? Always the third Wednesday in the month. You might want to mark that on your calendars!" she told them condescendingly.
"We're sorry. We didn't know. We just can't leave him in the truck or his brain will fry," Meg told her with one of her most melting smiles. The very kind that had got her out of trouble, as a child, not that she was ever in much, thought Charlie with a wry grin.
The woman smiled way too sweetly. "If I make an exception, everyone will be bringing their pets in willy nilly and how would that be?"
"Wonderful! It would be just wonderful. How many of the people you have in here had to leave a beloved pet behind? Nell Arnold wants to see this dog. I think you should let her, don't you?" Charlie asked quietly, but with steel in every word.
The woman, whose name-tag read 'Cynthia', blinked rapidly several times. "Just this one time and don't breathe a word of this to anyone. Now sign in. That's one rule I must insist on! We like to keep track of everyone. Room 114 is just down that end of the hall"
Meg tightened Freddie's leash, as his exploratory nose took over. At the command "sit!" he looked up at Meg and seemed to consider his options, then, to her complete surprise, he, actually, sat and both waited while Charlie filled in the "Visitor's Log'.
As they headed down the hall, an aide in bright yellow brushed past them on her way to answer a call light. Otherwise, it was quiet. From the rooms they passed, doors gaping widely, they saw that most of Sunnyvale was either fast asleep or headed in that direction.
Both sisters had expected to find Nell asleep, but she was standing by the window talking to her African Violets. "Now you know I have to pull off your leaf, don't you, Doris? A yellow leaf will never turn green again. Just a quick pinch and it will all be over."
Charlie cleared her throat and she turned around. "Time to nap already? I'm not going to do it. You know you can't make me," she told them with a shake of her head.
"We're not here to make you do anything you don't want to do, Nell. See we brought you a visitor and a treat."
"Come closer. My eyes aren't what they used to be along with the rest of me. I don't think I know you girls, do I?" she asked, as she moved across the room, pushing a walker with tennis ball feet. Her hair was a wisp of gray...like feathers...flying about the tiny wizened face. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes a faded blue lit with the inquisitiveness of a squirrel. She was wearing a floral print dress now several sizes too big for her.
Meg handed her the box of chocolates they had picked up on the way there. She had had her doubts about the wisdom of gifting her with chocolates without asking the nurse first. "What if she's diabetic and we kill her?" she'd asked her sister, who predictably replied, "Death by chocolate! What a way to go!"
"Chocolates! How did you know? Haven't had a full box of chocolates since.... Well, in a very long time. Let me get situated in my chair and you can tell me what brings you to Sunnyvale, where no one would go in their right mind," she laughed. "It's a joke. Get it?"
It didn't seem funny to them, but it apparently it did to Nell. When she'd quite finished laughing, she reached for the box of chocolates and tore off the gold foil wrapping. Popping one in her mouth, she closed her eyes and moaned in pure delight. "You two go right ahead and tell me what you want, while I sit back and savor these. Scrumptious! I suppose the polite thing to do would be to offer you two girls one, but I'm hoping you'll say 'no'."
Which they did. While Nell popped her third chocolate in her mouth, Meg began, "We're the Ravynne sisters. I'm Meg and this is Charlie....Freddie is the short furry one. He's a Ravynne too."
"Looks like he got the looks in the family," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, as she squinted down at Freddie. "Cute enough, but I never much liked pets in the house...hair everywhere...dirty beasts every one. Not like my flowers."
Charlie smiled. "No, they're not. Quite different in fact. Would you mind if we asked you about a family you worked for a long time ago? The Hensleys of Hensley Hall? You were the twins nanny."
Nell looked at them for a long moment and then seemed to slip away. Just as the sisters were beginning to think their trip had been a waste of time, she said, "Breanna and Devon. Pretty things, both of them. Dark hair and big gray eyes. Taught them both in that schoolroom. Kind of a nurse and nanny combined. They had a tutor, too, later...can't think who that was...looked like a weasel...beady close set eyes"
"About the twins. We live in Hensley Hall now and we need to know everything you remember. Please, it's really important!" Meg said.
"Hensley Hall! Big place and old long before I came there to tend those two. She didn't trust doctors or hospitals...had her reasons...so they were born at home with just the midwife and me there. She had a hard time with the birthing, but they were both born healthy. Devon first by a minute or two. The mother never took much of an interest, which was fine by me. Never liked a lot of interference in the nursery.
"But as time passed she took to Breanna, but never Devon. Dressed her up. Paraded her around. Quite the little miss she was, though I don't think she liked it much. Breanna, that is. Mostly, she was her happiest when she was with her brother. The father, Lord Hensley the staff called him behind his back, though I thought he'd be pleased to hear it, was a big man in more ways than one. Big of stature...played college sports. Big in the community. Old family name and old family money. President of the bank. Wanted his son to be just like him, but..."
"But?" Charlie prompted.
"It didn't happen. Son was slight of build and small for his age. No interest in sports. It was agony for him when his father took him down to the bank with him. 'Devon his Disappointment' is what he called him.
"His father beat him, he said, 'If it takes a good beating to bring him to heel, by God he'll get one'. His very words. Used his cane on him, the one he liked to carry everywhere. Would beat him up in the schoolroom, then lock him in his room afterwards. Sometimes for days. I had my own key and took him food and dressed his wounds. Never cried like any normal boy would have. Just lay there and let me tend him without a word or a whimper. But then.he..."
Charlie and Meg exchanged glances. "What is it, Nell? You can tell us," Meg asked for both of them.
Nell began rocking back and forth in her chair. "He did things. Mean things though I don't think he meant to. He was just acting out...getting even with his father and his mother, too. She knew what was going on and never stopped him."
"What do you mean? What kind of things?" Charlie asked, her eyes narrowing.
She sniffled and took the tissue Meg pulled out of the box on her bedside table "He hid one of his mother's rings in the maid's room and told on her. He didn't like her for some reason. He told me what he'd done, after she was dismissed. I made him tell his mother the truth and I think he hated me for a while. I found my best dress slashed to ribbons.
"Then one day a new neighbor brought their daughter over for a visit and Breanna and she took to each other as young girls will. Devon was jealous and pushed the girl into the rose bushes. She was scratched pretty badly, but Devon told everyone it was an accident. He had tripped and fallen against her.
"There were other things. It went on and on. Mostly small, petty things that earned him a beating, though I think he would have gotten one anyway. But some were bad...real bad. Someone set rat traps in the barn next to a litter of kittens, the ones Breanna loved. She would plead with cook for scraps every day. They found two dead in the traps and one badly injured. They questioned Devon but he denied it, though no one believed him. They said he was jealous of the attention she gave them.
"The stable incident was the worst. The master, he made us call him that, insisted they both take riding lessons. Breanna was a natural, but Devon never took to it. Then one day he was thrown and the stable boy, Tommy, no Timmy, caught him slashing the mare with a whip and told George, the stable master, who then told Devon's father. Poor Timmy. He saved the mare from a beating, but she trampled him to death in her stall less than a month later." Charlie slid a sidelong glance at Meg, who met her eyes.
Charlie poured Nell a glass of water and handed it to her. "Please go on. We need to hear anything you can tell us."
"There were other things too. He liked to wander around at night...especially if the moon was out and usually took his sister with him. I remember what he said the first time I caught them sneaking down the back stairs. He said, 'We like the feel of the night against our skin.' And he smiled the kind of smile that made me wonder, if I knew who he was any more."
Charlie saw the beginning of an old horror bloom in her eyes and started to stop her, but she continued, "I was worried about them both. They were too close. It was unnatural! Always together, touching, finishing one another's sentences and smiling at each other...smiles full of secrets that had me wondering."
She took a sip of water and handed the glass back to Charlie. There was a long pause before she continued. "I had the room next to the schoolroom, you know where I mean? The children had been moved down to their rooms on the second floor some time before, though I doubted the wisdom of it. But I had only my suspicions and I was afraid of branding the children with what might only have been my imagining. I continued to watch them...surprised the Hensleys kept me on with the children past the age of needing a nanny, but they did. I think they needed someone to keep an eye on Devon. But I failed them and, most of all, I failed Breanna."
Nell dropped her eyes to her brown speckled hands that were twisting the edge of her dress. Her voice was tremulous, when she whispered. "It was late at night when I heard a cry. It was faint and I thought I'd been dreaming, but then I heard a scream. Muffled but unmistakable. It was coming from below. I took the servants' stairs to the second floor...it opened right outside their doors. I looked in Devon's room but it was empty. I tried Breanna's door, but it was locked. I began pounding and pounding on it over and over. Doors were opening all along the hall. Their father was headed my way, when Breana's door opened and Devon stood there. He looked at me and smiled, "You, too?" Then he walked into his room and locked the door. The next day he was on his way to military school. She was sent to a private girls' school in town. And I was dismissed," she said, brushing away, with a trembling hand, the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
Meg gathered the old woman in her arms, " That was all a very long time ago, Nell. Please don't distress yourself now."
Nell touched Meg's cheek and smiled into her eyes, "You're a good girl. You want to believe that people are like you. But if you believe in good you must also believe in evil. Especially if you want to live in Hensley Hall. Evil has left its mark there."
"Did you hear about what happened there later?" Charlie found herself asking.
"I was gone, but I kept in touch with some of the staff, at least in the beginning, you know how it is. Devon didn't last long in military school. Was back home in two months over some incident that nobody talked about. I read later about the murders and Breanna going missing. After that, I just didn't want to hear any more. But I prayed for both children. Often wondered how things would have been if someone had given Devon what he craved so much...love...attention. What he got from me was not nearly enough and afterwards, when I discovered him in her room, he didn't even have that," she told them wearily.
"I'm afraid we've quite worn you out, Nell. We'll be going. Thank you for everything," Meg said with a smile.
"I hope it helps. Who are you again? I don't think I know you," she said looking from one to the other with a worried frown.
"The Ravynne sisters and Freddie, remember? Why don't you let us tuck you in for a nap?" Meg asked gently.
She shook her head, "Plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead. You girls come back and bring your little dog. Like dogs. Just not messing about in the house. Always wanted one. Maybe I'll get one when I get back home," she said around an enormous yawn. She was already nodding off, as the sisters, quietly, exited the room.
\*\*\*
Both sisters were quiet until they climbed in the truck, started the motor and headed back home. "Well, we know more that we did," Meg told her, fishing a chocolate bar out from under the seat. "I knew you'd be drooling over Nell's box of chocolates, so I picked up a Hershey bar for you. Kind of squishy. I'll feed you chunks while you drive otherwise we'll probably end up in a ditch while you satisfy your feeding frenzy."
"How about less talking and more feeding," Charlie told her pointedly. "At least we know his name now."
"Devon. Not evil enough. Damien would have been better." Meg told her, moving the Hershey bar out of Freddie's reach.
"We know now he had sadistic tendencies and, if the trampling of Tommy was his doing, which I kind of lean towards, we know he was capable of murder," Charlie told her.
"Timmy not Tommy. We also know he was 'Devon the Disappointment' to his father, who beat him with a cane. Which was something I think I heard that first time we explored the schoolroom, but didn't tell you."
"The reason being?'
Meg smiled and popped a piece of chocolate into her sister's mouth. "If I told you everything I've been hearing, feeling and now seeing, you'd be sleeping in your truck."
Charlie laughed. "You're probably right!"
Meg frowned thoughtfully. "And then there is the 'unnatural attachment' as Nell called it. And the incident when he was found in her room."
"It appears this Devon was not a very likeable character all the way around, when you add murder and incest to his list of crimes."
"Don't forget animal abuse...the mare and the kittens...and probably more we don't know about," Meg said. "You know how I feel about that sort of thing. Do you think this Devon is dead like everyone says? You didn't feel, hear, or see him in your room last night, right?"
"No, the only one who disturbed my sleep last night was you...you and Freddie," Charlie told her pointedly.
Meg popped a piece of chocolate into her own mouth. "If Devon is dead, wouldn't you think he'd head back to Hensley Hall like a ghostly homing pigeon?"
"I couldn't agree more. Maybe he's just not as demonstrative as Breanna and has yet to make an appearance? But, if he is alive, then who's buried in the mausoleum?"
"And where is Devon? I really don't want to think he's waiting to pay us a call," Meg said with a worried frown.
"That, my sister, makes two of us. Three if you count Freddie, since Devon has a proclivity for hurting animals."
"And killing people? Do you think he murdered those girls, and Breanna, since her ghost is hanging around wailing like a banshee?" Meg asked, chewing on her lower lip.
"I think there is every possibility he murdered them all. And is probably still alive, but the only way to prove he isn't in the mausoleum would be to have him exhumed and a DNA test ran. Which would have to match a sample from the house, but, since his room was stripped when we got there and then cleaned top to bottom by us, the likelihood of finding one is remote to nil. As far as fingerprints go, there can't be enough left of him for that. Finally, I can't help but think the local authorities will laugh themselves silly, if we ask for an exhumation order on the grounds he is not haunting us?"
Meg pursed her lips and scowled. "When you put it that way, I suppose you're right. But when has any obstacle kept you from stirring the pot? And don't forget Breanna. I don't think she'll let us off the hook that easily. She really seems to need our help."
Charlie sighed and looked at her sister, who was staring down the road with her chin stuck out in the mutinous angle she knew well over the years. Meg was on a mission and there would no way to stop her. "'Can't beat 'em, join 'em'," Charlie muttered under her breath. Meg's smug smile told her she knew she had won, but, at least, she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut. For once!
Time for a little redirection, Charlie thought wryly. "Let's stop for supper and then we won't have to argue over the cooking thing again. By the way, I think it's time we thought about hiring a cook/housekeeper. Someone who won't mind helping with the cleanup."
"You mean someone who will actually do windows caked with decades of grime?" Meg asked doubtfully, "such angels exist?"
"You're right. Maybe we should look for miracle worker/wonder woman instead? When we can afford her, which won't be any time soon from what I can see."
\*\*\*
When they arrived home, it was just getting dark and the last of the work crew was pulling out. The house greeted them with a thrum of nervous energy, but remained quiet otherwise. No sly whispers, no moving shadows in places where shadows didn't belong, but there was still an uncomfortable 'awareness' that shot a ripple of unease through them both. So they decided to raid the fridge and head up to their rooms.
When Charlie emerged from her shower, a short time later, she found Meg sitting cross-legged on the foot of her bed with Freddie sprawled over her lap. She was reading a letter. Even from across the room, Charlie recognized the stationery and lavender ink. Opening the balcony door first, she padded across the floor and sat down on the edge of her bed. "So when did Sage's letter arrive?"
"Moe handed it to me before he left. He had to sign for it and hoped we didn't mind, which of course we didn't," Meg returned with a smile.
The kind of smile that Charlie had learned not to trust, at least not entirely. "And?"
"Well, they're all fine...great actually... and, of course, ask how we're doing and send their love."
"And?" Charlie repeated.
"It seems they also sent us a check"
Charlie exploded. "A check! What for? You haven't asked them for money have you, because I won't have it! This is our house, our problem, or should I say problems. I won't go running to them, just because we're feeling the water close over our heads just now!"
"Drowning is not a good thing, Charlie. I don't think I need to tell you that. And we're headed there if we keep sinking money in this place. Besides, the check isn't to bail us out. It's...let me find it...she writes, 'It's an ' investment in your enterprise with a lot more likelihood of a decent return than a savings account these days'. Then she continues, 'Your Dad is very excited and wants to start a new series of ghost stories that will scare the poop out of the little beggars...his words not mine. He wants to stay in your new house for inspiration. From what you've been telling me, Meg, it has plenty of ghosts to inspire him. And about that house cleansing I offered. I wish you would reconsider'. Anyway, she goes on and on," Meg told her.
"Maybe some of our spirits don't want to go to be cleansed? Maybe they're content just hanging around a place they loved," Charlie told her, then found herself asking against her will, "how much?"
Meg handed the check to her and watched her eyes widen. "With this kind of investment we can gladly offer them half of everything and won't have to worry about money for a long time," Charlie managed to say.
"Sounds good to me. I'm glad you're not mad. I know how proud you are of your independence, so I didn't dare show you the letter right away. I needed to pick the right time and now seems as good a time as I'm likely to find."
"I see. I thought we'd had a discussion about you tip toeing around on eggshells? Do I need to chase you around again with the plant mister? When are Dad and Sage coming?" Charlie asked with a laugh.
"Not for quite a while, judging from their list of prior commitments, though Sage said she'd drop everything and take the next plane out if we needed her...um...talents." They both pictured Sage flying to their rescue and smiled. "There is something you should consider, though. Why don't we move you to the room across the hall, or on the other side of me? Your staying here in Devon's room gives me the creeps now that we know what we do about him."
"No, I like this room and the tower. But I would consider switching out the bed in the morning," Charlie told her.
"You don't think we need to worry about Devon, do you?" Meg asked.
"You mean showing up here? Killing us in our sleep? I would think this would be the last place he'd want to be. With Breanna dead...quite probably at his hands...what would be the point?"
"Not to mention the ghost of his father. I know he's here, too," Meg told her, dropping her voice to a whisper.
"That sort of clinches it then, doesn't it? He hated his father with good cause and, quite probably his mother, too. So I don't really think we have a thing to worry about...at least from that quarter."
"I hope you're right."
"Me, too!" Charlie muttered under her breath
\*\*\*
It was quite late by the time the sisters had finished talking about their future plans and the upcoming family visit. It was time to take Freddie down for what was, hopefully, his last 'emptying' of the night. Charlie went with her. They took the servants' stairs down to the kitchen and, while Meg released Freddie into the shrubbery, Charlie foraged through the fridge.
By the time Meg returned, she had two slices of chocolate cake waiting on the table. Meg rummaged in the fridge and fed Freddie the bits of chicken she found there, before she sat down next to her sister. "I think I heard something rustling in the bushes that wasn't Freddie."
Charlie considered what she'd said over a forkful of chocolate frosting. "It's not Devon, if that's what you're worried about. Probably some small animal. Remember we have more than ten acres of overgrown yard that could easily accommodate any number of wild animals."
"That kind of remark isn't very helpful, you know. Besides, I never said I thought it was Devon, I just said I heard a noise," Meg retorted peevishly.
After that, they finished their cake in silence, then headed back up the stairs to the second floor. Opening the door at the top, they stepped into the hall, which was darker than they'd left it. The sconces at the far end did not appear to be lit. Or so they thought. Then something moved. An almost opaque black mass churned and swirled, then began to head towards them.
Freddie bristled and growled, then hid behind Meg's legs. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Charlie whispered.
Meg could barely speak around the lump in her throat. "And hearing. A thump...thump...thump like someone with a cane coming this way."
"Your place or mine?" Charlie asked.
"Mine and quickly!" Meg managed to squeak, as she scooped Freddie off the floor.
But seeing Meg's fear, made Charlie mad all the way to her toes. "This is our house and I'm not going to let you frighten us. Do you understand?"
Meg's face turned ashen. "Charlie, please. For God's sake, get inside."
"I know who you are. I know that you like to beat little boys with your cane. How would you like to try that on me?"
Writhing and twisting faster and faster, the black mass began to take on the shape of a man. A very large man! Two red eyes glared, malevolently, at them from the blackness, which was altogether too much...even for Charlie.
Flinging open her door, Meg pulled an unresisting Charlie in after her. Turning the key, they leaned against the door, as they waited for their heartbeats to return to something close to normal. Meg was the first to regain her voice. "You are an idiot, Charlie! Trying to provoke him is not only stupid it's insane. That thing out there is dripping evil. And strong! Strong enough to do us real harm."
Charlie smiled, shakily, still more rattled than she wanted to admit. "Only if we let it. I'll admit I was rather scared."
"Out of your freakin' wits scared, you mean! Or I should say 'questionable ' wits. What were you thinking?"
"I'm not entirely sure. I just didn't like how he frightened you and I kind of lost it. But the 'red eye' thing was too much. Maybe Sage can 'spot clean' instead of doing a whole house cleansing. I wouldn't mind seeing the last of him."
Ears pressed against the door, they waited to see what would happen next and, when nothing did, Meg dug out an old Monopoly game she'd found in the library. Since neither wanted to be alone just then, they played Monopoly until they couldn't keep their eyes open another minute.
"Time to check the hall," Charlie said around a yawn. Opening the door, she checked the length of the hall. All was quiet...the lights brightly lit. "I think I'll sleep better in my own bed. Unless you want me to stay?"
Meg hugged her hard and shook her head. "I'll be fine. I think we may have over reacted. If we're going to live here, we'll have to find a way to deal with everything, including him."
"Sounds like something you said before or maybe it was me," Charlie replied around another yawn. "But I'm way too tired to worry about anything else tonight. Good night and don't let the bedbugs bite."
"That should be the least of our problems," Meg told her with a weary smile, as she saw her out the door and waited till she was safely inside her room.
It was close to dawn when Meg woke. The room was completely dark and she knew she'd left a light on in the bathroom and the door open. Or thought she had. Suddenly, Freddie 'woofed' and stood up. His tail wagged excitedly, as he stared at a patch of light on the bed next to them.
The temperature plummeted and Meg watched in fascination as a shape began to form. Brighter and brighter...bit by bit...Breanna Hensley materialized on the bed.
She appeared to be sleeping, her black hair spread across the pillow, dark lashes fanning ivory cheeks. She looked sort of like a long-haired Snow White without the chubby cheeks, Meg thought with a touch of irritation. No one should look that beautiful when they slept. Charlie had complained more than once that she snored and slept with her mouth open. Or did she say her mouth was never closed even when she slept? Same difference.
Then she noticed something else. The thick overpowering scent of roses, which, thankfully, she wasn't allergic to or she'd be dead by now, she thought, as she poked an exploratory finger at the sleeping Breanna. Surprisingly, it was sort of like sticking her finger in a marshmallow. She had expected her finger to go right through, but Breanna had real substance!
And there she was sleeping like the dead...poor choice of words...while she hadn't had a decent sleep in two nights! Maybe she'd just see about that! She poked her again, harder, but without effect. She was just about to give her a third poke, when she remembered; it was Breanna's bed after all. Well, if she stayed on her side, maybe they could share. She sighed and was about to slide back down under the covers, when she heard Freddie whine nervously. And then there it was...thump...thump...thump coming down the hall.
Breanna heard it, too. Her eyes fluttered open and her mouth rounded in a long wail of despair. Dissolving into a mist, she spiraled up and disappeared through the ceiling. "She does come and go rather quickly," Meg whispered to Freddie with more than a touch of wonder, but he had lost all interest and was repositioning himself for sleep. Meg listened for another 'thump', but all was quiet in the hall. Settling back, she thought about what she's just witnessed and considered waking Charlie, but relented. The morning was a better time to scare the bejabbers out of each other.
Meanwhile, her sister's sleep was not as undisturbed, as Meg had hoped. She had been dreaming about Devon. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, stroking her hair and saying, "It feels like moonlight against my skin".
He was just leaning closer, his warm breath fanning her cheek, when something landed on the bed next to her and she woke with a start. "Meg. I knew you'd change your mind," she mumbled drowsily, " I was just having a nightmare about...."
Her groping hand found the bedside light and she flipped it on, then looked around. Meg was not there, but something else was. She could see the imprint of something moving across the bed. Four small invisible feet left their prints in the soft velour blanket. Tentatively she stretched out her hand and was rewarded with what could only be a cat 'kiss'. "Kitty," she called softly. "I was beginning to feel like Meg was getting all the nightly attention!" Another cat kiss and it settled against her with a rumbling purr. She stroked along its silky length. "You're a big one, aren't you? You can't be for real, can you? Or should I say 'fur' real? Though why I even bother to ask, I don't know, considering everything that's happened here so far. But at least you're a nice surprise. You're more than welcome to spend what's left of the night."
A muffled "Meow!" answered her and she smiled. She had a cat...something she'd always wanted, but she had moved around too much and could never have given one a proper home. Until now. And best of all, this one didn't need a litter box!
"I wonder what your name is?" she asked not really expecting an answer.
"Cloud. His name is Cloud," a feminine voice whispered close to her ear.
Days passed and, with the extra money, they were able to hire the craftsmen needed for the specialty jobs of matching and replacing mouldnigs, paneling, the intricate plaster ceiling rosettes and the broken stained glass windows. They brought in a cleaning crew and hired painters to take some of the load off their shoulders, which freed Charlie up to finish her book and send it on its way. An ad in the local paper for a live-in housekeeper/cook, produced several replies. All expressed an interest only if they were paid enough to offset working in a house with such an unsavory reputation. And, despite the 'live in' requirement, none would stay on after dark or be there until it was well past light. Resisting the impulse to chuck all their resumes in the wastebasket, just in case one of them was their last resort, they were nearing desperation, when the last letter arrived.
It was from a Mrs. Anna O'Leary. Her letter was brief, stating she liked nothing better than "cooking, cleaning and caring for folks". She only had one reference, or almost had one...a Mrs. Stanford, who she'd taken care of for more then ten years. "She would write me a reference if she could, sweet soul, but she went to her reward, tucked snug in her own wee bed at age 93. Before that I was a married lady with a husband to care for, God rest him".
She was due to arrive at 3:30PM and both sisters were hoping this would be the last candidate they would need to interview. Neither was prepared when, at 3 o'clock sharp, someone hammered loudly on their front door. Hurrying to open it, they both stared open-mouthed at the portly, gray haired woman, holding a dog in her arms. "Lord a mercy! I found the poor beastie lying by your gates and took him to be yours. Hit by a car from the looks of it. Does he belong to you lasses?"
Charlie shook her head and reached out to stroke his gray muzzle. Judging from the blood around his head, he seemed badly injured, she thought, but, thankfully, unconscious.
Freddie was whining in distress, Meg was in tears, her hands fluttering about helplessly, while Mrs. O'Leary...who else could it be?...was weeping copiously. "Then I'll be taking him to the veterinarian to see if he can save the poor thing. There's one I know of. I'm Mrs. O'Leary. I hope you'll be holding me place for me. I'll be back as soon as I can."
She refused their offers to go with her, telling them she'd bothered them enough and it was her responsibility, since she'd found him. Charlie opened the tailgate door of her old station wagon and helped her load the dog gently inside, covering him with a blanket, "Twill be all right. You'll be fit as a fiddle in no time, me wee darlin', old Annie will see to it, she will," she clucked.
"I think one of us should ride with you and keep him quiet if he comes to," Charlie told her worriedly.
"It's only up the road a piece and I can be there in a lick," she replied with a warm smile that dimpled her rosy cheeks. Pushing her wire rim glasses up her nose, she climbed inside her car and headed down the drive.
Charlie and Meg watched until she disappeared from view. "If that woman can cook, she's hired," Meg said, brushing the last of her tears away with the back of her hand. "Do you think he'll be okay?"
"I couldn't tell much. Let's hope. I wonder who would just hit a dog and let him lie there."
"Thank God there are people like Mrs. O'Leary in this world!" Meg said fervently.
It was just after 5PM when Anna O'Leary returned. Her hair had come lose from her tight little bun and there were traces of blood on her high-necked blouse. "Sorry about all the fuss. I hope you won't be holding it against me. But the wee critter needed tendin'," she said with a weary sigh.
"Of course. We understand perfectly. What did the vet say?" Meg asked.
"He said it looked worse than it was...head wounds bleed a lot...said he should be fine if he came to, which is why I'm so late. I waited till I got the word. He's fine, groggy, .but fine."
"We'd be glad to pay for his care," Charlie told her.
"No need. The doctor says it was 'on the house'. What a kind man he be! But, if they can't be findin' the owner, I'll be keepin' him and I don't know how you be feelin' havin' another wee dog in the house. That is if you decide to be takin' me on. I be a good cook, or so I've been told, and I like a tidy kitchen with all the bits and pieces in their place. I can manage the household accounts, if you be wantin' that, and I'm good with a mop and a broom, if you get me meanin'."
"Sounds perfect. When can you start?"
"Well, as to that. Tis not the wages I be hesitatin' about. I know you want someone to live in, but with the dog and all...should I get him...I.... No, Annie, that's no way to be going on," she scolded herself under her breath, then continued. "I be an old plain spoken woman and I'll be gettin' straight to the point. I saw the old carriage house, as I drove past and what looks like a wee place above it. I know I be presumin' a lot, but..."
"You'd like to live there instead of in the house? There is a little apartment, but we haven't done anything to it yet. It's still rather a mess. Would you like to see it?" Charlie asked her.
She smiled warmly, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Nothin' better, Lord love the pair of you! It would be like having a home of me own again...something I haven't had since me Mr. O'Leary passed on. He would have liked it here; he would indeed. But first, if you lasses would show me the kitchen, I'll be seeing what I can do about your dinner."
Meg and Charlie smiled at each other. Her words were music to their ears!
\*\*\*
After supper, which was 'plain fare nothin' fancy', as Mrs. O'Leary described it, the sisters took their new cook/housekeeper to see her quarters. "Oh my! Tis all I could be wishin' for with a bit of elbow grease!" she exclaimed, "and look! A lovely sunny window it will be when the mornin' comes visiting. And the wee bedroom! I can picture it all cozy like. Thank you both. If you don't mind, I'll be cleaning the place up now. while I can still see what's in the corners. Don't like spiders and such jumpin' at me."
Charlie was the first to speak, though Meg's mouth was already open. "We'll help. If that's one thing we've learned how to do since we came here, it's cleaning."
"And painting. We have oodles of paint left over. And there are some curtains we took down that, once cleaned, would brighten the place up," Meg added enthusiastically.
"You lasses...there I go again calling you 'lasses', when you're the ladies of the house. How would you like me to be addressing you? I called Mrs. Stanford 'Mam', but I've heard young ladies these days don't like being called that."
"'Meg' and 'Charlie' will do just fine," Meg supplied. "You'll find we're not ones to stand on ceremony."
Mrs. O'Leary looked from one to the other then smiled. "Then it's 'Annie' if you don't mind. And though I be appreciating all the help you be offerin', this is a bit of bother that's none a' tall. A labor of love it tis. Now, if you don't mind I'll be getting me tail feathers movin', after I've tidied up at the main house that is."
Both sisters shook their heads emphatically. "We'll do our own dishes. Your wonderful supper was more than enough for you to do, especially with everything else that's happened. There should be plenty of cleaning supplies back at the house, Annie," Charlie told her.
"And if you change your mind about needing help we're available!" Meg added with her brightest smile.
Hours later, when Meg and Charlie took Freddie out for his last walk, they saw lights still burning in the carriage house. A shadow moved past the window. "I hope she likes it here," Meg said thoughtfully. "She hasn't had a chance to get the 'full effect' if you know what I mean. "
"Annie O'Leary is just what this old house needs. A good kindly soul with common sense and, hopefully, not too much imagination."
"Unlike us," Meg said pointedly.
Charlie laughed, "You've got the 'good kindly soul' part and I've got the common sense...at least more than you have. As to the rest?"
Meg sighed. "I don't think what we've been hearing and seeing is our imagination. I've got Breanna visiting me and you've got a ghost cat named 'Cloud'. I'd trade you in a minute, if I thought Freddie would permit it. Then there's 'Thumper'. I vote we lock the Hensleys' master suite and never open it again. And stuff kleenex in the keyholes. I get the creepiest feeling every time I pass those doors even in broad daylight."
"And you think that will stop him?"
"I wish!" Meg said wistfully. "There's always Sage if we need her."
Charlie wasn't so sure Sage could handle Mr. 'Red Eye' Hensley and she wasn't about to put her in harm's way. "Let's wait and see what happens next. And may I remind you that Cloud is my ghost cat, Freddie permitting or not!"
"Humph!" was Meg's answer. She decided not to tell her sister that Cloud visited her , too, until Freddie chased him through the wall.
The next morning, after breakfast, Annie went out and returned with her station wagon filled with boxes and bundles, refusing the sisters' help, saying, "I be used to doin' for meself. No use gettin' the lazy bones in me old age." After lunch, they heard her drive out again and this time she returned with 'Tavish', the name she had decided on for her new pet. Freddie was as wary of the newcomer, as he had been of Annie till she bribed him with bacon that morning.
"Best be takin' him to me wee new place and settling him in. He's a mite too old to be doing much, but he truly will be a blessing for this old lady, at least until someone comes looking for him, which, if truth be told, I be hopin' never happens! It will be a dark day for me if someone answers me 'Found' advertisement."
And by now, 'a dark day' for Annie, was something neither sister wanted.
\*\*\*
Annie did, indeed, prove to be just what Hensley Hall needed. Dressed in her long high necked cotton dresses, "to cover the burns from a grease fire in me childhood. I didn't have the wits to put it out, just stood there like a great lump and almost burned the house down except for me mither's quick thinkin", she seemed to be everywhere at once.
She was always either cleaning or cooking. The double fudge cake both sisters loved came out of Annie's oven now instead of the grocery store. When it came to the workers "mucking up me clean kitchen floor" she would chase them out the door with a broom one minute and make chocolate chip cookies for them the next. Everyone loved Annie
The house seemed to welcome her. It remained quiet, posing as just the normal every day Victorian mansion with no hidden agenda or other worldly occupants. Even when she left at the end of her day, the house remained strangely quiet, except for Cloud who still visited Charlie most every night. If something else stirred about in the darkness, neither sister spoke about it.
Days passed and the last of the workmen collected their wages and left. The house was as finished as they could afford to finish it. The downstairs rooms had been completely redone. There were five en-suite guest rooms ready on the second floor...enough to get started with the B&B. The third floor rooms were cleaned, but would have to wait till more funds could safely be funneled their way.
The attics were untouched except for the stack of portraits the sisters went through one rainy afternoon. Most of the paintings were of good quality and they considered rehanging them along the gallery at the head of the main staircase. But when they turned over the portrait of Lord.Hensley, both sisters gasped. Standing with his legs spread slightly apart, both hands resting on a silver handled cane, he looked down at the viewer with an arrogant, cruel twist to his mouth. His dark, deep set eyes seemed to watch them, slyly. Meg's 'Thumper'! Living he was just as creepy, as he was now!
Both were disappointed when no portrait of Devon turned up. "I really would like to have seen what he looks like," Meg said, as they restacked the pile.
"Just in case he comes to visit?" Charlie asked with a smile.
"You wouldn't be laughing, if he did. No, I just wanted to get a 'feel' for him...this boy who was capable of such cruelty, incest, and murder. Would it all be stamped on his face the same way his father's cruel, sadistic nature is stamped on his?"
"Probably not. He was what...seventeen... when he left? Even if they had his portrait painted at the same time as Breanna's, he was awfully young to have his character imprinted, where everyone could see. I'm betting Devon looked as angelic as Breanna," Charlie replied.
"And sad...wistful...and oddly familiar. Doesn't she remind you of someone? I mean I've had a lot more chances to see her, but...never mind. That's impossible. We've never even been anywhere near here before and Breanna Hensley lived here all her life."
"If I've learned anything lately, it's that nothing, but nothing, seems impossible," Charlie said, "and I know you feel the very same way!"
\*\*\*
Charlie was pecking away at her keyboard in her tower hideaway and Meg was behind the house weeding a flowerbed, loving the feel of the rich dark loam, and the smell of green growing things. Her place, her garden, and she had a million plans for it. Most of which would have to wait till next year, since it was so late in the growing season, but, still, what she had accomplished...not without help...was amazing. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up at Charlie's window and smiled. Things were good. Life was good. And the future? That would have to take care of itself. She straightened and stretched, brushing back a lock of hair that had worked its way out from under her floppy straw hat, then noticed Freddie digging under a rose bush.
"Stop that, Freddie! The only person allowed to dig in my garden is me!" He stopped, looked up, cocked his head and took off running. "Hey, come back here," she called, then gave chase. "If you get in the road and get yourself flattened..." Rounding the house, she stopped in her tracks and stared at the black SUV that had attracted Freddie's attention. His excited barking ceased and he fled behind Meg, as the door opened and a man slid out.
He was very tall...or seemed so to Meg. His dark hair was worn slightly longer than considered fashionable, especially in Merritsville, and was streaked with gray at the temples. He was dressed all in black, shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
In three strides he was in front of her. Removing his dark glasses, his eyes slowly took her in and she found herself blushing uncomfortably. She knew what she looked like...sweat soaked, dirty and quite possibly not as fragrant as she had been earlier. He smiled and two deep dimples bracketed his sensual mouth. Extending his hand, he said, "I'm Zack Mallory. I heard in town that there was a possibility you might have a room to rent."
Meg wiped her hand on the side of her pants before she offered it with a smile. "I'm Meg...Meg Ravynne. We're not exactly ready for guests yet. I need to get my sister"
"I understand you will be opening a B&B. I'm more interested in renting a room on a long-term basis. I'm a writer and I'm looking for a place just like this for its ambience."
"Ambience we have in spades. Let me get Charlie."
"I'm prepared to pay whatever you ask. Two months in advance and last as well. Three months total? Easy money really. I keep unusual hours and won't require anything from your staff."
"Come inside, Mr. Mallory? You'll have to wait till my sister comes down." He opened the door for her and waited for her to precede him, then followed her to the front parlor. "Please have a seat. I'll...we'll...be right back," Meg told him still feeling flustered.
Hands shoved in his pockets, he looked around the room and then at her. "I promise I won't leave this spot!" he said sardonically.
Meg sped down the hall, through the kitchen and up the back stairs with Freddie close behind her. She was breathless when she burst into the tower room. "You'll never guess," she began, not letting Charlie's scowl discourage her. "We have out very first customer, Zack Mallory, a writer like you and he likes the place...the ambience and wants to stay indefinitely and he has real money...the kind that pays for all of this. Isn't that the best news all day?"
Swiveling in her chair till she faced Meg, Charlie smiled. "At the risk of raining on your parade, he does have references I suppose?"
"Well, as to that, I'm sure he has. I mean you have only to look at him and you know he's bound to have all kinds of references."
Charlie looked at her sister for a long moment, "You look a bit flushed, Meg, and I don't think it's the heat. He must be quite a hunk!"
"Well, kind of, but no. He's, well, you can see for yourself. Come on!"
Shaking her head, Charlie followed her sister out the door and down the stairs. They found him looking out the window. He turned around when they entered the room and Charlie was immediately aware...too aware...of what had Meg in a flap. He was 'beguiling', Charlie thought, and found herself wondering why she had chosen that word. Crossing the room she extended her hand, "I'm Meg's sister, Charlie, Mr. Mallory. I hear you are interested in staying with us."
"Very, now more than ever," he said with a curious smile.
Yes 'beguiling' was the right word, Charlie thought. He wasn't all that much taller than she was, didn't have the powerful build she usually was attracted, too, but there was something about that smile. And those eyes. "Well, we have five suites on the second floor available"
"I really was more interested in the third floor tower room. The one on the right. Is that a possibility?"
"That used to be the butler's quarters a very long time ago. We've cleaned them, but they haven't been renovated. I think you'd be more comfortable on the second floor."
His smile deepened and he raked his hand through his dark hair, "I'm afraid I quite have my heart set on the tower. It's the perfect place to write...at least for me. It's a bit romantic and I dare say has a spectacular view. What do you say? Is it settled?"
Charlie couldn't argue with his logic. It was the perfect place to write. "About references...if you are going to be with us for an extended period of time, we really would like to know who will be sharing our house."
"Not a problem. Let me give you my card and a few names and numbers you may call," he said with a touch of arrogance. "Do you have something for me to write on? I'm really quite harmless, you know. Haven't bitten anyone in at least a week or two."
Charlie plucked a sheet of paper and pen out of the Larkin desk, they'd found in the attic, and handed it to him. Checking his cell phone to confirm several numbers, he was finished in a few moments. "Now that we're taken care of that, would you mind showing me the rooms?"
With Freddie sniffing at the stranger's heels, they took the main staircase to the third floor and followed the hall to the east end. The door was unlocked and they walked in. They let their prospective tenant look around, poking into the armoire, opening the doors to the bathroom and tower sitting room. When he returned, he was smiling "Perfect! I'm at the Rodeaway Inn Room 203. Call me when you've satisfied yourselves I'm not an axe murderer." With that he walked down the hall and out of the house, leaving Meg and Charlie staring after him.
\*\*\*
"He has devilment in his eyes. Me very own sister took up with such a one and lived to regret it," Annie mumbled darkly as she plunked a stack of pancakes in front of Meg and Charlie.
The breakfast room was bright with morning light and, the warm yellow they had painted it, made it one of their favorite spots. They listened to the sounds of their new tenant carrying his boxes and bags up the stairs. They had to tied Freddie to the table leg to keep him from being a nuisance and quite possibly tripping their renter on the stairs, thereby precipitating a lawsuit. At least that was one of Meg's worries. She had a list of others.
"Well, 'devilment' or not," Charlie reminded Annie, "he's paid good money for his rooms that would have gone empty otherwise. And all his references did check out."
"But anyone could have answered the phone and said whatever he told them to say," Meg said, worrying her lower lip.
"I thought you were all excited about having him here. I checked out the numbers he gave us and they matched the names."
"Why didn't he tell us that he was a professor. He doesn't look like any professor I ever had!"
Charlie laughed, "Nor me! He is rather..."
"Delectable? Maybe that's what has me worried. And he's so brooding and dark. And those eyes! You can look into those eyes and never find bottom!"
At that precise moment, those very 'eyes' were looking at them from the breakfast room door. A smile quirked up one corner of his mouth. "Excuse me. I've finished moving my things in and will be staying the night. All I need from you is quiet...reasonable quiet...and complete privacy. My door will be locked. May I ask if you have another key?"
Charlie wasn't sure why she lied, "No. You have the only one. Would you like some breakfast? Annie's pancakes are wonderful," she told him, ignoring Annie's snort.
"No thank you. I have errands to run in town and will grab a bite there. I would like a DSL line installed in my room. Do you think that could be arranged? I will be glad to pay for any expense."
"I'll call this morning," Charlie told him.
He smiled then and looked directly at Meg. "The eyes are the 'windows to the soul', isn't that the old cliché? Good day!"
Charlie looked at Meg, who was pushing a forkful of pancakes around on her plate. "Just what are you looking at?" Meg muttered.
"Just waiting to see you get your foot out of your mouth so you can finish your breakfast!"
\*\*\*
Days passed. They could hear him coming and going...doors opening and closing....footsteps on the stairs. Or he would sequester himself for long periods of time and they heard nothing at all. At night, when they let Freddie out, they made a point of going past that end of the house. Invariably his lights would be burning. When they passed in the hall or on the stairs, he would say "Good morning!", but little more, though his eyes brushed over them and his smile had a sensual quality that both sisters couldn't help but notice.
Then one morning, Annie burst into the library, where Meg and Charlie were sorting through some of the older books, still hoping for a first edition. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with excitement, "I caught him, the devil! I caught him red handed!"
Meg's eyes rounded in surprise. "What are you talking about, Annie? Caught who doing what?"
"I be doing the vacuuming down the third floor hall, though I know he doesn't like the noise. But it needs doin' and I need to be doin' it! I was just wondering why he didn't come out, like always, and give me one of those looks of his that could shrivel me poor soul, if I wasn't wearing me mither's own crucifix."
"Annie! Please, get to the point!" Charlie prompted impatiently.
"I be pokin' at the bag to see if it be needin' a change and I heard it."
Both sisters' immediate thought was that the spirit of Mr. Hensley had appeared and that would be the last they'd see of Annie, so they were relieved when she continued. "It was himself...your new man...footsteps in the attics, who else could it be? I crept up the stairs, quiet as a wee mouse, and opened the door a bit. The front room was empty, but I could hear rummagin' about in the storerooms, so I came running as fast as me poor old legs could carry me. He be both a devil and a sneak thief!"
Meg and Charlie looked at each other and then at Annie. "You stay here with Freddie and we'll go see what he's up to," Charlie told her.
"Shouldn't you be takin' somethin' to bash him with?" Annie asked worriedly.
"I think we'll hold off on the 'bashin' part just yet. Ready, Meg?"
At Meg's nod, they headed down the hall and through the kitchen to the back stairs. Within moments they were standing in front of the narrow door that led to the attics. Charlie put her ear against it and listened. Shaking her head, she told Meg, "I can't hear a thing. I'm going up there."
"We're going up there!" Meg corrected her with a smile.
The door opened with a minor squeak and they climbed the steep steps in single file. It was dark on this side of the house. Ahead, they could see a flashlight beam sweep the piled boxes in the second storage room. They crept stealthily forward, but the old flooring betrayed them with a loud creak. Immediately, the light went out. "He knows we're here now," Charlie muttered under her breath, as she crossed the room in three long strides. "You might as well come out of there," she said with a deadly calm. The kind that had served her well in more than one situation.
They heard a husky male laugh and he stepped from the shadows with a casual ease that Charlie couldn't help but admire.
"Well, it seems I've been caught in the act of doing what?"
"Snooping," Meg supplied.
"What are you doing up here?" Charlie asked narrowing her eyes.
"What am I doing up here?" he drawled, letting his eyes travel down her length and back to her mouth. "Simple curiosity!"
"Which produces unfortunate consequences in felines," Charlie found herself replying.
"Fortunately for me, I am not of that species," he returned with a sardonic smile.
"I won't fence with you, Zack Mallory. If that really is your name."
"I gave you my bona fides and you checked every one. I know you did because I checked on you."
Charlie found herself laughing, "Touché!"
"My name is Zack Mallory and I write under a pseudonym which I won't tell you for personal reasons. I write thrillers. Right now, I am writing a book about serial killers and this house, with it history, is the perfect place to stimulate me. For several reasons, actually, which I won't elaborate on just yet," he told them.
Charlie couldn't help but agree. This would be the perfect spot for him. And if he intended to include the mystery of Breanna's disappearance and presumed death, as well as the murders of the other girls, how could it do anything other than further their own goal of setting things right in their home? "Okay, let's strike a bargain. We are interested in anything you turn up for our own reasons, which we won't elaborate on. You can poke around all you want, but you will share your findings with us."
"I see. You have an interest in finding out about Breanna Hensely and the other girls. And Devon. The so very mysterious Devon," he returned smoothly with a wry twist to his mouth that struck the wrong cord in Meg.
Heatedly, she replied, "We don't just rent a room. We live here and it's only natural we would want to know those things. If you listened to the..."
"Come on, Meg, before you say something we'll both regret, if you know what I mean?" Charlie told her, as she flung a steely glance in Zack's direction, and dragged her sister from the room. Meg jerked free and hurried down the stairs with Charlie close behind.
When they reached the kitchen, Charlie grabbed Meg's arm and spun her around. "I'm sorry for dragging you out of there like that, but I don't want Zack Mallory to know any more than he has to. Okay?"
Meg sniffed loudly. "You are forgiven this once. I'm not so sure about the next time. And there will be one. You can't help yourself."
"What are you two quarreling about? Was he robbin' you blind?" Annie asked as she came in from outside, where she had taken Freddie "to relieve his wee self".
"No, he's writing a book on serial killers and is doing some 'research' up in the attics. Now, it's with our permission," Charlie told her.
"Humph!" she replied with a snort. "He'll be havin' you two believin' anything his handsome devil mouth be sayin'! Anyone who'd be writing such grisly stuff would have to be a real nutter!"
Leaving Annie to mull things over, Charlie and Meg returned to the library with Freddie prancing between them. Settling into a pair of wingback chairs, they were both thoughtful for a long moment and then Meg said, "Maybe he is the devil! Maybe he is Devon! He's dark like Devon, though he looks a lot younger, but with botox and cosmetic surgery he could manage that easily enough."
"I checked his references and called the college to confirm his employment, but of course Devon would have had forty years to establish a new identity. He could be anyone by now!" Charlie said.
"Devon was never arrested for the murders and they wouldn't have fingerprinted him just because they were having a slow day," Meg replied. "So there are no prints on file for comparison...even if the local police would check them for us...which they probably wouldn't."
Charlie raised one brow, then said, "Well, looks like we're stuck with whatever he tells us."
"But if we did get a set of prints, maybe we could get someone to run them for us, then we'd be able to find out if he's ever been arrested for anything under the name Zack Mallory, wouldn't we?" Meg asked, frowning in concentration."
"But Zack's prints wouldn't prove he's not Devon, if we don't have Devon's prints for comparison, and that's what we're really worried about," Charlie added with a frown of her own.
"But it wouldn't hurt to know if there's any skeletons rattling around in Zack Mallory's cupboards, though the college wouldn't have hired him if he had a felony on his record, would they," Meg asked.
"No, they wouldn't, but perhaps with the right connections he had his record expunged," Charlie replied. "At this point, what do we really know about any of this? We know Breanna is probably dead, because her ghost is here."
"And we know Devon is probably alive because his ghost isn't," Meg continued.
"We strongly suspect Devon is a murderer of at least three young women," Charlie added, "and we don't know where he is."
"We're hoping where is someplace far from here, but he could be Zack," Meg said pointedly. "So, we're going to try and get his prints which probably..."
"Won't prove or disprove a blessed thing," Charlie finished for her.
"You know this whole thing is probably a wild goose chase.
"Yes...but let's get the prints and see what we can find out about our new boarder. I rather like chasing this goose...wild and or not!" Charlie told her with a laugh.
\*\*\*
They waited the next morning until they heard his car start up and head down the drive. If he kept to his usual pattern, he would be gone for more than an hour, which was enough time to do what they had to do.
Leaving Freddie with Annie, the sisters headed up the stairs towards Zack's rooms. Feeling like spies in their own house, they were silent as they crept down the hall to the carved panel door at the end. Meg laughed nervously, "Here we are creeping about and he's long gone with nobody to hear us."
"As to that, who knows? Doesn't your skin crawl whenever you pass the Hensley suite?"
"Yes, but I thought I wouldn't mention it. It's been kind of quiet for weeks and I didn't want to jinx it. Got the key, I hope, the one you said you didn't have?" Meg asked brightly.
Charlie fished it from her pocket and waved it under Meg's nose. "Right here." She opened the door and they slipped inside. It smelled faintly of an expensive men's cologne, and pipe smoke. .Books and more books were piled here and there. His laptop sat on the desk in front of the window in the exact same position as Charlie's own laptop at the opposite end of the house "We'll need something he won't miss till we lift the prints. You look around, Meg, while I take a look at his computer. I want to find out what his pseudonym is...the one he wouldn't tell us... and any other bits of personal stuff I can glean."
Meg poked about. He was orderly: she gave him that. Opening the armoire, she looked inside. He liked nice labels...something their sister Rayne would appreciate. She picked up a brandy bottle and studied the label. Probably expensive, too, though she was no judge. "Do you think we could take this glass and get it back here before he comes home?" she asked Charlie, who was swearing under her breath as she tried to crack the laptop's password.
"If we knew more about him, I would have some chance at this, but as things stand, it's hopeless. Read me some of his book titles, Meg, maybe that will give me a clue."
They both looked up as a too familiar male voice said silkily, "It seems I forgot to mail a letter and what do I find? If you wanted my fingerprints, all you had to do was ask. But, as far as my computer goes, that's something else entirely. Believe me, Charlie, you will never guess the password in whatever is left of your lifetime."
To their dismay, they both colored guiltily like schoolgirls caught in some prank. Charlie was the first to recover a bit of her composure. "I know this looks like snooping." He quirked one dark brow and she was forced to continue since the ground, despite her fervent wish, refused to swallow her up. "And we are snooping. We aren't entirely comfortable with what we know about you." He raised both brows and smiled, then waited for her to go on. "Yes, I checked what you gave me, but it's not unknown for someone to steal someone else's identity and start a new life."
"And I would do that because my own identity ceased to amuse me? What's your real reason for invading the privacy I so adamantly insisted on?"
Meg answered for her. "We think you may be Devon?"
He appeared to be considering that and then he spoke. "You don't think Devon is dead as previously reported? How very interesting. May I ask why?"
Charlie smiled despite herself. "If we told you, you would never believe us. Besides, there seems to be more than one mystery, where you are concerned, that you choose not to enlighten us on, so 'touché'."
"Then we appear to be at an impasse. Should you choose to share, you know where to find me. The other key, please!"
Charlie handed it to him. "You know I could have just picked the lock," she told him loftily, as she swept out of the room, pulling Meg behind her. They both heard his laugh all the way down the hall.
Charlie tucked into her own writing and Meg tackled the tangle of climbing roses that had invaded a large section of her 'some day' garden space. She wasn't entirely sure it was the best time of year to be pruning, but decided to go for it. Freddie romped beside her, as she wielded the pruning shears with a vengeance. She stopped and took a deep breath, then flexed her shoulders to relieve the strain. This is way more work than she had imagined it would be, she thought, as she brushed back a strand of hair from her eyes with the back of her canvas gloved hand. "And hot!"
At that moment, Freddie scared up a rabbit that had been hiding under the roses and took off like an arrow. "Not that you'd know what to do with it if you should catch it, Freddie, but, just in case, I don't want a dead rabbit on your conscience or mine," she muttered as she gave chase. She cornered him next to the potting shed, eyeing a hole where the rabbit had made good his escape. She scooped him up in her arms. "You are a willful bundle of fur," she said with a smile, as his pink tongue found the tip of her nose. "Let me just finish that one corner, then we'll go inside out of the sun and get us both a nice cold drink."
She carried him back and sat him in the shade. Squinting up at the sun, she saw it was almost noon and the hottest time of the day. Why hadn't she thought to wear her hat? Might as well go in now and come back later, she thought. "Freddie, let's go. Freddie?"
She stopped and looked around, then spotted him up to his elbows under the roses she'd just pruned. He was digging furiously, dirt flying in all directions...a lot of it landing on top of him.
"Oh, Freddie. Look at you! You're a mess." She bent down next to him and tried brushing some of the dirt out of his long white fur. A flash of something metallic caught her eye. "What have you found?" she asked him. Moving him to one side, she looked into his crater. "What the?" She reached down and pulled out a locket.
It was yellow gold...old fashioned in design...with the initials 'BH' worked in small diamonds. "It's lovely," she murmured. Opening the catch, she looked inside. A lock of black hair lay coiled within. "This must have belonged to Breanna, Freddie. Let's go show Charlie!"
She took off at a run with Freddie giving chase, barking excitedly. She had forgotten entirely about Freddie's state of dishevelment, when she charged through the kitchen door and sped past Annie. "May the saints presarve us, what's all the commotion about and what is that wee beast doin' trackin' up me fresh mopped floor?"
"Can't stop now, Annie. I'll explain later," she called over her shoulder, as she hurried down the hall to the servants' stairs. Climbing them two at a time, she arrived out of breath at Charlie's tower room. Without bothering to knock, she burst inside.
Charlie had been chasing a plot point around in her head, when Freddie and Meg burst in on her. Pivoting in her chair, she turned to face them, her brow creased in irritation, "What the?"
"Look what we found under the rose bushes," Meg cried, dangling the locket under Charlie's astonished nose.
Charlie took it from her and studied it carefully. "I'd say there's every chance the 'BH' is for Breanna Hensley, but the lock of black hair? It could be Devon's. If it's her's, why would she keep a lock of her own hair in her locket? Show me where you found this?"
Meg and Charlie hurried downstairs with Freddie racing on ahead. He wouldn't have been in such a hurry had he known his fate. Annie was waiting for him. "Not a second time you don't," she scolded, as she grabbed him by his harness. "I don't know what has put everyone in such a flap, but this wee beastie is going to be getting' a bathing before he puts foot to ground again."
But Meg and Charlie weren't listening. Abandoning Freddie to his fate, they hurried outside and around the house. "It's right over here," Meg told her, leading her to Freddie's hole.
Kneeling down, Charlie, carefully, brushed the dirt aside. "Look, Meg, there's a skeleton down here!"
"Oh my God! Tell me it isn't Breanna," Meg cried, her blue eyes rounding in alarm.
"No, it's an animal of some kind. Here, help me dig it out. I want to see the whole thing."
"Gross!" Meg muttered with a grimace, as she knelt beside her and helped uncover the complete skeleton.
"Looks like a cat to me. A cat with a nasty dent in its skull," Charlie told her.
"You don't think it's Cloud, do you?" Meg whispered.
"I'm afraid that's exactly who I think it is. We need to visit Sunnyvale again."
"Are you going to tell Zack what we found?" Meg asked. "And what do we do with Cloud now that we found him?"
"No, we won't tell Zack. He was supposed to share what he found with us, but we never said we would do the same. What have we heard from him, since he caught us in his room?" Charlie asked with one raised brow, as she began scooping the dirt back over the small skeleton.
"Well, we were snooping and he did leave that box of photos he found in the attic outside your door," Meg told her, helping refill the small grave.
Charlie compressed her lips in a tight line. "We still don't know if he's Devon, but it was rather nice of him to share the photos . They did give us a bit of insight into Breanna and Devon's relationship. At least as small children. They were as close as..."
"Two peas in a pod, but remember they did come from the same pod?" Meg reminded her with a smile.
"Old Thumper and the indifferent Mrs. Thumper? Not the kind of 'pod' I'd want to come from."
"I'm going to make a marker for Cloud. Something nice with his name on it. Do you think Annie's finished torturing Freddie?" Meg asked.
Charlie smiled and stood up, drawing her sister with her. "Time to rescue your fur child, or he'll be so tidy you won't recognize him."
Meg gave an indignant snort. "As if that would ever happen!"
\*\*\*
Charlie and Meg drove to Sunnyvale the next morning, leaving Freddie in Annie's care. They had told her as little as possible. Telling her about the ghosts that haunted Hensley Hall was not a good way to hang on to the best thing that had happened to them, since they'd moved there.
It was a beautiful morning for a drive, but neither sister seemed to notice. They were both lost in their own thoughts until Meg said, "I don't know what this all means, the locket buried with Cloud, but it creeps me out."
"Me, too. Maybe Nell Arnold can shed some light on all this."
A short time later they arrived. They were warned, when they signed in, that Nell had taken 'a turn for the worst' and they were 'not to tire her out'. Even so, they were not prepared for the woman they found. Her face was white and drawn and the sparkle in her eyes was gone like a snuffed candle.
"Good morning, Nell," Meg said, taking her thin brown speckled hand in hers. "How are you feeling?"
She smiled then and a bit of color came back to her cheeks. "I'm fine, girls....like an old clock, I'm winding down. I should know you, but I can't seem to remember?"
"We're Charlie and Meg from Hensley Hall. We were here to see you awhile ago," Meg told her.
"Yes, I remember now. You brought me chocolates and a sweet little white dog. I don't remember his name either."
"Freddie. And he liked you, too. I'm sorry...we forgot the chocolates this time. Next time we'll remember," Meg replied.
"Aren't you kind. No, I don't think you need to be worrying about next time. What can I do for you girls today? More questions?"
"Just a few," Charlie told her gently, drawing the locket from her pocket. "Meg found this buried in the garden at Hensley Hall along with the skeleton of a cat. Have you ever seen it before?"
Nell took it from her and turned it about, then traced the initials on top with one finger. "It's Breanna's. Her grandmother gave it to her. They had the same name, though her grandmother spelled her name with an 'i' instead of an 'e'. Her grandmother loved her...both the twins...but she didn't live long enough to be much of an influence. Breanna never took the locket off."
"What can you tell us about the cat...the one buried with the locket?"
"Breanna always loved cats, used to feed the barn cats, her father couldn't abide them. Called them 'sneaking, sly things' and wouldn't have one in the house. But Breanna and Devon had other ideas. At night, they would sneak in this big, white cat and he would sleep with them...mostly Breanna. She was his favorite. I forget what they named him. Something to do with the weather I think?"
"Could it have been 'Cloud'?"
"Yes, I think it was. Long fur. Must have had some Persian in him from somewhere. Polly, the cook, often saw them sneaking him out in the morning and neither of us ever said a word. Their father would have killed him and not blinked an eye. He was the very devil, when anyone disobeyed him."
"Do you remember what happened to Cloud?"
"I heard round about, you understand, after I was sent packing, that he disappeared after Breanna disappeared. Some thought he ran off. Some thought the master may have found him, mooning about looking for Breanna and killed him. Anyway, that was all a long, long time ago. I'm getting a wee bit tired, girls. Was there anything else?"
"No, I don't think so. We'll be going so you can get some rest," Meg told her, brushing a strand of white feathery hair gently back from her forehead.
"I was married before I became their nanny, did I tell you that? A good man he was...died young and never left me with a child of my own. Breanna and Devon became my children. I loved them both, though I didn't know how to help them. They found in each other a kind of love most would label sinful. Even me. But who did they have but each other? Getting close to the other side gives you a different perspective," she told them with a weary smile, as she brushed the locket, back and forth, against her paper dry cheek.
"They had you, Nell. And that had to mean a whole lot. We want you to keep the locket," Charlie told her softly, tucking her blanket under her chin and turning off the bedside light.
"It will be like having them close by. Thank you more than this old lady can say."
As they closed the door behind them, they heard her mutter, "Don't forget the chocolates next time! If there is one."
\*\*\*
"Well, what do we know now that we didn't know before?" Charlie asked thoughtfully on the drive home.
"We know it's Breanna's locket and she never took it off," Meg replied, "though she may have when she showered or...."
"Then it is perfectly reasonable to assume she was wearing it when she disappeared...and was murdered...which is what we believe happened to her," Charlie broke in before Meg had begun full babble.
Meg pinched her arm a hard as she dared "I hate when you do that...interrupt me like that! It still might have been an accident. All we know for sure is that her ghost visits me almost every night. Though she does miss a few now and then."
"I thought you told me things had quieted down?" Charlie asked, raising one brow.
"I lied. I didn't want to worry you, but they...it...she only seem to come out at night, though I do hear rustlings and whispers even during the day. There seems to be a lot of spirits roaming around we haven't even gotten to know yet. I didn't tell you about those either."
"I lied, too. Cloud still comes for at least part of most nights. Let's see what we do have. Breanna is dead...murdered or an accidental death, who knows? Her locket was buried with her cat, who was alive when she disappeared," Charlie said, "which adds up to what?"
"You're asking me? I don't even know what I don't know! I do know that Cloud was killed. That dent in his head wasn't from falling out of a tree. Then.Devon just walks away and gets himself killed in some convenient train wreck. Or so we are led to believe, but we don't," Meg replied with a frown of concentration.
"Do you think Devon killed Cloud and put his sister's locket in the grave with him?" Charlie asked.
"He killed those kittens in the rat traps, remember? Would he stop at killing a cat, if it served some purpose? Even one he seemed fond of if Nell remembers rightly? He cared about Breanna, too, and she's dead."
"We don't know for sure if that was his doing, Meg."
"If what Mrs. Shotz told us was even remotely true, the cops were looking in his direction. Why would he leave town if he was innocent?" Meg asked.
"Now why would Devon leave town? Maybe, because nobody would believe him? With Breanna and Nell gone, there was no one in his corner. Certainly not his parents. And certainly not all the people who had come to believe the worst of him over the years."
Meg was quiet for a long moment. "But why kill Cloud?"
"Maybe, just maybe, .he knew too much!" Charlie said thoughtfully.
"And he was going to tell who? He's a cat, remember?"
"But what if he knew where Breanna was buried and could lead someone there?" Charlie continued.
"That's a motive, but why the locket?" Meg asked.
"If the cops found the locket on Devon, that would be one more piece of circumstantial evidence added to what they already knew or suspected. Remember, even Nell, who cared about him, came to think the worst. And he had a dead cat to get rid off. Solution? Bury them in one hole and plant a bush over them. A bush that has grown into that prickly jungle you so much admire."
Meg laughed. "It will be beautiful some day. I was thinking, maybe Devon buried the locket and Breanna's hair, if it is her's, with Cloud to keep his spirit quiet."
Charlie laughed, "Like that worked. Cloud is everywhere. And why not bury him with Breanna if that was his motive?"
"Maybe he couldn't," Meg began thoughtfully, "maybe...."
Charlie sighed and looked sideways at her sister. "You know I'm getting brain fry from all of this. There's a diner. Pie and coffee sound good?"
"As long as we don't spoil our dinner, or Annie will have our heads. Not that pie has ever spoiled anything for me!"
\*\*\*
Meg had a surprise waiting for her, when they arrived home. Roses. One dozen long stemmed white roses and a card that read: Your loveliness shames even these! She questioned Annie who could only tell her that a delivery boy had dropped them off just past noon.
"You don't think they're from Mitch, do you?" she asked Charlie.
"As though that man would spend a dime on flowers, let alone know that white roses are your favorites. Who would know that except me?"
"No one that I can think of, but maybe one of the workers, helping me outside, might have overheard me talking to them."
"I know you mean 'talking to the roses' because I know you. A normal person probably doesn't talk to plants."
"Nell talks to he African Violets and look how healthy they looked. Sometimes you need to be a little more open-minded. I would think living here would have cracked your mind wide open," Meg said with a trace of petulance.
Charlie laughed, "You're right, of course, at least this once. Did any of these 'workers' show you any particular interest?"
"You mean leer at me or wolf whistle? Unfortunately no. They called me 'mam' and tried not to swear in front of me?"
"Well, who else do you know in town?"
"The postman, the druggist, the check out boys at the supermarket, the butcher. Charlie I know a lot of people in this town, but not one that has shown a bit of interest. I know! Maybe it's Moe! Of course that's probably only wishful thinking."
"Did he strike you as the romantic type? Someone who would send your favorite flowers with a card like that is not a 'Moe'. Maybe it's our new renter?"
"Miss Knows Everything, apparently you haven't noticed I'm not the one he's interested in!" Meg told her, as she took a turn around the room, then two, while Annie, Freddie and Charlie watched. "I don't know who it is. Let's call the florist and find out what he knows."
What he knew didn't prove very helpful. Someone had mailed a request for the roses and enclosed the card along with a hundred dollar bill. When Charlie asked the florist if he'd noticed the postmark, he said he hadn't, but he still might have the envelope somewhere. But he didn't. The morning trash had already been incinerated.
"Well, Meg, it looks like you have a secret admirer," Charlie told her sister, who gave her a lopsided smile.
"Just my luck. The first guy I must have met somewhere, even if I can't remember, with any romance in his soul, likes to play games."
Moments later, Meg slipped away unnoticed. Up in her room, she made her way to her bathroom and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror attached to the back of the door. Someone thought she was beautiful! When was the last time she had felt beautiful? She shook her head and sighed. She had never felt beautiful. How could she with Charlie and Rayne for sisters, though, she had to admit, that Charlie seemed totally unaware of how gorgeous she was.
Rayne was quite the opposite. And she knew how to use her assets to get whatever she wanted. How easy it was for her! She sighed again, then reminded herself that Rayne had a warm and caring heart...probably more of one than she herself realized.
Meg pursed her lips in what she hoped was a seductive pout. Her hair was a nice shade of honey gold, but curly, then frizzy as a dandelion gone to seed with any bit of humidity. She widened her eyes and smiled. They were a nice shade of blue with long lashes. Her extra pounds had been widdled away in the renovation of the house, leaving plenty of curves. And her breasts were bigger than both her sisters...something some men would like.
But she was vertically challenged, she thought, standing on tiptoe and laughing. High heels had given her the inches, but unfortunately, she lacked the coordination to pull off the look. She envied those women who could run in heels, go up and down stairs in heels, stand all day in heels, but she lacked the gift. So short she was and short she'd have to stay, unless someone came up with a pill some day.
She sighed. "Maybe I really am beautiful. My secret admirer thinks so. He would have to be some weirdo, of course, or a psychopath. Why does every wounded bird find its way to me?" she wondered and not for the first time.
\*\*\*
As Meg had told her sister, Breanna did continue to visit her at night...sometimes two or three nights in a row, then nothing for a week or more. Meg would wake up shivering from the cold and find her asleep next to her with Freddie tucked between them. She had taken to keeping an extra blanket close at hand for just those occasions.
Often, she would wake to find Breanna rummaging through the armoire, or rifling through her dresser. At times, she was almost solid while, at other times, she was nothing more substantial than a cold wisp of fog and the sweet, cloying scent of roses.
Sometimes she would stand in front of the window looking into the night with the moon lighting her up like a Japanese lantern. She seemed to be looking for someone and Meg wondered if it was Devon. Occasionally, they would hear the 'thump...thump...thump' coming down the hall and Breanna would disappear, through the wall, into Charlie's room.
Then one night she woke up to find Breanna sitting on the edge of her bed, writing in a journal of some kind. Curiosity aroused, Meg wrapped the extra blanket around her and tried reading over her shoulder, but Breanna rose, abruptly, and crossed the room. Kneeling at the bottom of the wall, she moved the baseboard and shoved the journal inside, then rose and pointed her pale finger directly at Meg before she vanished.
Curiosity really aroused now, she slipped from bed, dragging the blanket across the room. Squatting down, she felt along the edge of the baseboard till she found the part that moved. And there it was! The very journal Breanna had been writing in, but dusty and cobwebby, which made her sneeze violently three times, after which she blessed herself, unwilling to risk being carried off by leprechauns. A friend in school had told her that at an impressionable age. Not that she really needed to worry. It was only the sad fate of unblessed virgins, which she hadn't been for some time...at least technically!
Wide awake now, Freddie bounded, playfully, from the bed and landed on the blanket, compelling Meg to drag him across the floor to the nearest chair, where she pulled herself up and sat down. Turning on the reading lamp next to it, she studied the journal in her hands. It was pink for one thing. And locked, but a bobby pin took care of that.
The first entry was dated about three years before her disappearance, Meg quickly calculated. Breanna would have been about fourteen.
I had a dream last night about Namma, my namesake. She told me I needed to start a diary...said it would be important some day. That the one who found it, would know what to do with it. Or something like that. I'm afraid that seeing Namma even in a dream after she's been dead for so long, had me too scared to listen very good. But here goes...
As was her habit with anything she read, Meg then flipped to the last entry:
Devon and I are going to run away. We're going to leave separately and meet outside in the woods by the lake. Then we'll hitch hike into the city and disappear. We have some money he stole from father, so we must be gone before he finds out. I have a bad feeling about this...
The journal ended there and Meg was hooked. She flipped through it, reading at random. Most entries were about the ordinary happenings in Breanna's life. There was a lot about Devon. Nell had been right. They were inseparable. Then an entry caught her eye.
I woke up and he was sitting on the edge of my bed looking at me. I started to scream but he put his hand over my mouth. It smelled like sweat and something else. He told me to lie still or he would hurt me. He looked at me for a long time, though I couldn't see him cause it was too dark. Then he left.
The next entry was almost a month later.
He came tonight. I had locked my door but he had a key. He stood looking down at me and the moonlight glittered off his eyes. I was really scared.
"Dear God, Meg whispered in horror. "The poor child. Her own brother. Nell had been right!" Then she read:
I put a chair under the doorknob and I could hear him pushing against it, but he didn't get it open. I think he was afraid to make too much noise. He thinks I haven't told Devon. He told me he would hurt Devon more than he ever had before if I tell. I don't want Devon to be hurt, but I have to tell someone...
It wasn't Devon, Meg thought, then who? She kept on reading.
There was a note on my pillow. He's mad because of the chair. His note said: open the door or I will mark him with my cane so no one will ever even know he's your brother. I had to do what he said. I can't have him hurt Devon.
Meg found tears rolling down both cheeks. "The poor little girl," she told Freddie who had wedged himself in the chair next to her. "It was her father. He was a monster. Even a bigger one than we thought. No wonder she flees from him, whenever she hears him coming down the hall! Even in death she isn't free of him." Unable to stop reading, she continued.
I lied to Devon. I think he knows that something is wrong, but I couldn't tell him. I must never tell him no matter how much I want to. We have never had secrets before and it's making me feel cut adrift when I need him more than ever.
Then she found the entry that matched Nell's story.
He touched me tonight. Rubbed my hair against his face and lifted my nightgown. I pretended to be asleep. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. He touched my breast and I screamed, but he forced a pillow over my face. Then Devon burst in the room and he moved away from me. I could see Devon's face and knew he would kill him for me if he could. But he was afraid, too. The we heard footsteps overhead....Nanny's room...she'd heard my screams and was on her way. Father shoved Devon against the wall...told him "If you breath a word about this I will kill you both!" He was gone before Nanny arrived, but Devon stayed with me.
"Stayed with you and took the blame because he couldn't risk seeing you hurt.," Meg said to Breanna in case she was listening. The entries continued. Devon was in military school and Nell dismissed. Meg liked her new school and found she made friends easily. Her father's nightly attentions continued, but he seemed satisfied with looking and not touching, though Breanna remained terrified. Then Devon returned from military school:
I can't believe it. Devon's back. I missed him so much it was like having half of me gone and I know he felt the same. There was some scandal at school. He told me that an upper classmate had tried to do something to him he couldn't allow, something ugly, so he pushed him down the stairs. Father is very angry and blames Devon. Calls him the 'family disgrace', but Devon and I both know who that really is.
So the scandal Nell had hinted at wasn't Devon's fault either, Meg thought, maybe Devon was completely innocent? But then she read: I don't think Devon likes my new friends. He thinks they take up too much of my time. Maybe he's a bit jealous. We've always been so close. He's never had to share me before.
Meg went on to read about the first murdered girl who had been a school mate of Breanna's....had visited her in this very house.
I can't believe Mary is dead. She was my best friend next to Devon, of course. Who could have done such a thing? I won't read the papers. It's bad enough to know she was murdered and raped. I don't want to know any more.
Then she read:
Devon has been so strange lately. When we were younger, we often slipped out at night...him in pursuit of the giant Silk Moths to add to his collection, even though I hated what he did to them. We would go to our special place...the Folly on the island and watch the moon ride the night sky sometimes only coming back in, when it was almost dawn. Nanny slept like the dead and never caught us. I outgrew all that, but he never did and now I hear him leave most every night. The police have been questioning him. I know he's scared. If only I could help him. There is one good thing....Father hasn't been to visit me in more than a week.
The other entries at the time of the second murder were all similar. Breanna was horrified, as another one her friends was raped and killed. She was increasingly concerned about Devon...especially when the police turned their full attention in his direction. Then Meg read the second to the last entry.
Father came tonight and Devon was not here. It has been months since father sneaked into my room and I had been hoping and praying it was over. He was different...agitated...restless. He prowled the room and then grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me and shook me till I though my neck would snap. I have never been so frightened. If we don't leave soon, I know something terrible is going to happen.
Meg closed the diary and leaned back in her chair. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. Devon was Breanna's savior, not the monster everyone thought him, at least in that regard. But was he a murderer? He was different...unique...a freak by all the usual standards. What had happened to them...those two born under a dark star?
She remembered the first entry. The grandmother, the one Nell had said loved her grandchildren, wanted the diary written so she would find it some day. Breanna had led her to it. But how was she to use what she learned? It was more than forty years ago and all the people concerned were long dead, except maybe Devon?
She looked at the window and saw that dawn was already brightening the sky. .She unlocked her door and checked the hall in both directions. All was quiet. Charlie's door was never locked 'just in case she needed her during the night', so she slipped inside and made a beeline for the lumpy pile of bedding that harbored her sister. She needed her big sister who somehow could make things right no matter how wrong. She needed her quite desperately. She was sick to her very soul.
\*\*\*
"What now?" Charlie moaned, pulling her pillow over her head and mumbling from underneath one corner, "don't you ever sleep?"
"Not much last night! Look at what I found!" Charlie moaned louder and pulled the blankets up over the pillow. Meg sputtered in exasperation and ordered, "Get her, Freddie.
He was making good progress digging her out, when Charlie issued her best warning growl and sat up. Freddie settled back on his haunches, eyeing her with new respect. Meg shoved the journal under her nose and said, "Read!"
Charlie brushed her hair out of her eyes and yawned hugely. "What is so important that it can't wait till later? Like any time after this ungodly hour whatever it is?"
"It's Breanna's journal. Her ghost led me to it. She might have been trying to for months, but I kept falling asleep on her. Anyway, you have to read it from beginning to end, though I had a peek at the ending first, you know how I can't stand not knowing how things turn out before I see how things begin...you always told me to stop doing that cause it ruined it for..."
"Stop! Let me get up, get dressed, have some coffee and a bite of breakfast first, if that's okay with you?. Afterwards I will lock myself in my tower and not budge till I've read every single word. Deal?"
"Deal, but..."
"No 'buts'! Take your demonic dog with you and leave me in peace. I'll be down in a few moments. You can start the coffee. Annie will still be enjoying what I'm not allowed to...a quiet entire night's sleep."
"Did you hear what she called you?" Meg asked Freddie, as she led him down the back stairs to the kitchen. "'Demonic Dog'! Can you imagine? She should be careful about tossing names like that around. If she wants to see 'demonic' she need look no farther than 'Old Thumper's' room."
As it turned out, Charlie had picked up the journal, as soon as Meg and Freddie had left her room, and found herself as hooked as her sister. She was still in bed, when Meg knocked on the door an hour later. She carried a breakfast tray that smelled too good to be her cooking.
"I thought you could use this. Annie cooked it if that relieves your mind. Though I could have. She's been teaching me and tells me I'm making progress. And I'm actually kind of enjoying it, though no one could be more surprised than me! What do you think so far?"
Charlie raked her hair back and sighed, "Old Thumper is a monster. One we don't want hanging around here. How did you find this again? I wasn't listening to you earlier."
"I woke up and Breanna was sitting next to me writing in it, or it was a residual sort of 'writing' since there aren't any new entries, then she led me to where it was hidden. Get back to reading. I'll bring lunch later," Meg told her as she backed out of the room. But Charlie was no longer listening. She was busily reading Breanna's journal, as she munched a crisp slice of bacon.
Sometime later, juggling a lunch tray and a vase of white roses (she thought she'd share) she opened Charlie's door and looked around. The large pile of rumpled sheets blankets and pillows was no longer occupied, so she crossed the floor to the tower room, where she found her sitting at her desk looking out the window.
She had been crying, too. "Such a waste," she told Meg. "No one to love or understand them...at least after Nell came to doubt them. If they had been born to different parents, how their world would have changed."
"Do you really think so?" Maybe they were too unique to fit comfortably in society's shoebox," Meg told her quietly, "no matter who their parents were."
"Well, at least we know Devon was not guilty of incest."
"But was he a murderer?" Meg asked.
"Breanna said he was upset she had found new friends at school, while he was away. Remember, Nell telling us about the neighbor girl and the rose bushes?" Charlie replied thoughtfully.
"A few scratches, which he said was an accident, is a far cry from murder," Meg told her, sitting the tray next to her.
"Yes, but remember Timmy? As I said before, maybe he wasn't trampled to death, maybe he was bludgeoned and thrown in the stall. The smell of blood would have agitated the mare and she could well have trampled him to death if he wasn't dead already," Charlie said with a grim smile
"I don't want Devon to be guilty of that. Breanna loved him. I, at least, want to like him!" Meg said, as she sat the vase of white roses next to the tray.
"Remember the dead kittens and Cloud? Devon may not be a good choice to champion."
"You would have to remind me of that, wouldn't you?" Meg retorted, fingering a white rose, thoughtfully.
\*\*\*
Meg and Charlie were in the kitchen when the second flower delivery came. Another dozen roses...white. The card read: The night becomes you. This time the florist had saved the envelope. He said it had been mailed locally and he would have it ready for them to pick up. "Well, what does he mean by 'the night becomes' me'? Isn't that a little creepy? How would he know that unless he is watching me?"
Charlie took a sip of her coffee and looked at her sister for a long moment before she replied, "Of course, it rather depends on his use of the word becomes, but either way, it is most definitely creepy. If he is watching you at night, it must be when you're walking Freddie, which you won't do without me from now on. Meanwhile, maybe I can get some fingerprints off the cards or envelope. You did save the first one, didn't you?"
Meg smiled and said, "You know me. A card from a secret admirer? Of course, I saved it. It's upstairs in my room. Do you want me to go get it?"
"Nope. Let's finish our coffee and then we'll go up together. I'll send everything off to a lab I know and they can lift the prints. There will be quite a few, since the cards and envelope went through a lot of hands, ours included. But we will at least know if anyone who touched them has prints in the database."
They went upstairs and Meg retrieved the card from a box in her room, while Charlie wrote a note and addressed the envelope to a friend in the lab she had worked with before. They had just finished, when they heard the front door knocker slam three times.
"I wonder who that is?" Meg asked. "We weren't expecting anyone, were we?" Charlie shook her head and they took the hall to the main stairs with Freddie barking excitedly and running on ahead. They had almost reached the bottom, when Annie bustled in from the kitchen, muttering under her breath, and threw open the door. Charlie and Meg stood frozen in surprise, when they saw their visitor. Rayne!
"Well, don't just stand there gawking at me like you aren't glad to see me. Come give me a hug, you two. You know I've been meaning to get here simply for ages, but one thing or another has kept me in New York," she told them with her perfect smile, which she then turned on Annie. "You must be the wonder woman Meg has been writing me about. As you may have guessed I'm the other sister, Rayne Ravynne. You have to know from a name like that my parents had a sense of humor," she said. "Do you mind awfully if I give you this? It's been creasing my jacket and I'd like to get rid of it." Passing her shoulder bag to Annie who took it with a mutter only Meg could hear, she hugged her sisters in turn. "Cat got your tongues? You are glad to see me, aren't you?"
Charlie laughed, "Of course, we're glad to see you! Just very surprised! Why didn't you let us know you were coming? And how did you get here?"
"I rented a car at the airport. It's parked outside and loaded with the rest of my luggage. Quite a bit of it, I'm afraid. I plan on staying for a while and helping out with all of this....this...." She looked around slowly. "My God, the place is enormous and not at all the wreck I was expecting!"
Meg smiled. "Well, it was all of that when I first wrote you about the place. And, yes, this is Annie, who has been a real God send, and this is Freddie."
Freddie sniffed the hand that Rayne extended and waged his tail excitedly. Another male conquest, Meg thought with a sigh, as Rayne tossed back her silky black hair and said, "Now that I've met everyone, I could really use a nice cool drink. Do you think you could handle that, Annie? Afterwards, we can bring my bags in and then go someplace for a nice chat."
Annie dropped Rayne's bag on a chair and led the way to the kitchen, where she served the sisters tall glasses of honey sweetened lemonade.
Rayne looked around speculatively, as she said, "Mom and Dad send their love. They still plan on coming, but, as Meg may have told you, some prior commitments with Dad's publisher is going to detain them for quite a while. Mom has sent several talismans she wants you to wear...both of you. There's a nice topaz bracelet you must wear on your left wrist and some garnets to put under your pillow to ward off evil spirits. And Mom made me promise to remind you that she can be here in a heartbeat if you need her.
"And Allyn called up just before I left New York. He's somewhere in Europe doing who knows what? Just being 'Allyn' I suppose. He sends his love, as well. He also wanted me to tell you, Charlie, that he is 'quite old enough to handle his own affairs from now on', whatever that's supposed to mean."
Charlie smiled enigmatically. "Whatever indeed. You can see what we've been up to, so tell us all about New York."
"And your latest beau. You must have taken New York by storm," Meg added rather wistfully.
"That would take some doing! As to my latest beau? He's an architect...handsome, successful, but way too possessive and I needed to get away. You both know me! I'm a gypsy and no one is going to pin me down. Just like you, big sister," she told Charlie pointedly.
"Charlie has her secrets. Ones she won't even tell me about. Why don't we take you to your room...you're right next to me...and you can freshen up before lunch. I hope you like it. Charlie and I painted it your favorite color, when I told her you might come."
With all three helping, Rayne's luggage wasn't as formidable a task as it first appeared. Thankfully most of it had wheels. When they reached the end of the hall and opened the door to Rayne's room, she gasped. "It's really gorgeous! And look at the antique bed with all the pillows in yummy shades of purple and lavender with a froth of lace. This place is wonderful. Not at all the brooding Victorian monstrosity, I was led to believe."
Meg dragged a suitcase to the wardrobe, straightened, then said defensively, "That was just in the beginning, when we first got here. Now I..."
"Oh stop, Meg! You're always way too sensitive. You have accomplished something really impressive here and I'm very proud of both of you."
Charlie interjected with a wry grin, "We had plenty of help and Annie has been wonderful."
"She's even teaching me how to cook!" Meg added. ."So, Rayne, do you think we can make a go of this B&B thing?"
Rayne crossed the room, with her model's stride, and looked out the window. "In order to answer that, I have to ask you: Why would anyone want to stay at Hensley Hall?"
Meg and Charlie looked at each other for a long time, as both suddenly realized that was a very good question. Meg, loyal Meg, was the first to blurt out, "Well, the rooms turned out great and each has a private bath. We used a lot of really good Victorian pieces we found here and..."
"And Annie is a wonderful cook," Charlie added.
"Hardly gourmet from what I saw,"' Rayne said, as she moved, gracefully, across the room to rearrange her pillows.
"Maybe not, but we like it and we think others will, too," Meg told her tightly. She was beginning to wish Rayne had visited their parents instead of coming there.
"Okay. Nice rooms...authentic as you can get with updated plumbing? Yes, well then 'delicious home cooking in a romantic setting straight out of Jane Eyre'. What else do you have going for you?"
"We're close to the city?"
"I logged twenty-five minutes getting here...close would be a stretch...but go on."
"Well, we are a thirty minute drive to the sea shore and Fun City Theme Park is just one town over." Charlie added, beginning to think the same thing Meg was thinking.
Rayne sighed and drummed her long well manicured fingers on top of the marble mantel, "Why couldn't you have won a house on the beach, in the city, or a ten minute drive to Fun Park whatever it's called?"
Meg and Charlie both laughed and Meg answered for both of them, "Because there wasn't one?"
Rayne rolled her eyes dramatically and tossed her hair back, then laughed, too. "I knew there had to be some reason. This is going to be a real challenge, but a helluva lot of fun!"
Later that night they gathered on Meg's bed. Sitting cross-legged with Freddie between them, Rayne complained, "You know, I was always too young to be able to do something I've always wanted to do."
Surprised, Meg and Charlie looked at her. "What's that?" Charlie asked.
"Beat the tar out of both of you in a good pillow fight!" she screamed, grabbing the closest pillow and smacking Charlie over the head. Freddie headed for cover and the fight was on. Fifteen minutes later, they all lay in a heap, laughing, as a few stray feathers drifted down from the ceiling. "How about we raid the fridge next," Meg said when she could finally talk.
Much later, they reconvened in Meg's room to say their 'good nights'. "Of course, Meg wrote me all about the ghosts, including the one you call 'Old Thumper'. Is he still hanging around?"
"You can be sure of it, but we leave the lights on in the hall and we're close by if you need anything. We do have a renter at the far end of the upper hall, but he never goes out at night," Charlie told her. "If you're afraid, you can stay with me or Meg?"
"Is Breanna still visiting you, Meg?" she asked.
"Yes, and at times she's quite a bed hog. And a cold one to boot! You might find more room in Charlie's bed, if you need to make a run for it during the night."
"Perhaps you should consider renaming the place 'Hensley Hell' from the sound of it," Rayne told her sister. Grabbing both their hands, she appeared to weigh her options. "You snore...you toss and turn like a dervish. Do you think your renter upstairs would like some company?"
Meg laughed, "We know you're only joking, right? Anyway, I just thought of it. I bought Charlie a 'sound machine, 'a white noise kind of thingie that drowns out what you don't want to hear. Since, nothing has actually happened, physically, to us, that might be an option."
"You mean, if I turn on this 'thingie' and pull the blankets over my head, I should survive the night?" Rayne asked.
"Play it full volume and you won't hear a anything. 'Rain Storm' is the best setting. It even drowns out Meg!" Charlie told her.
\*\*\*
The next morning Charlie drove into town to pick up the envelope from the florist and mail everything off, then drove to the IGA for the few things Annie had requested for dinner. She finished shopping and headed home. Pulling into the back, close to the kitchen, she found Meg and Annie laughing together as they laid out their plans for an herb garden next to the brass sun dial. "Where's Rayne?" Charlie called as she unloaded her packages from the truck.
"You know our sister as well as I do. Still sleeping would be my guess," Meg called back. "Do you need help with those?"
"I'll manage. I'm going to get back to my book, as soon as I put these away. Any muffins left from breakfast, Annie?"
Annie straightened slowly and shaded her eyes from the morning sun. "I hid two for you under a towel on the cupboard. Thanks for pickin' up me things. Twill be savin' me a trip into town later."
Charlie headed into the kitchen...unloaded the groceries into their approximate places...knowing Annie would rearrange everything to her satisfaction later, then grabbed the muffins and headed upstairs just as Rayne was headed down. While Charlie was wondering how her sister managed to look so gorgeous so early, Rayne grabbed a muffin as she squeezed past her on the narrow stairs. "I met Zack just now on his way to the library. I didn't know this place even had a library! You didn't tell me he was so very delicious," she purred.
There were times when Charlie didn't like her sister all that much and for some reason one of those times was now. "He's off limits, Rayne, while he's living here, for several very good reasons. He wants complete privacy, peace and quiet. And Meg and I don't need an extra complication right now."
"And I would be a complication?"
"You have a way of complicating things with all the best intentions. And there is something about Zack that bothers me," Charlie said thoughtfully.
"Bothers you? I don't think I've ever seen you 'bothered' over any man before," Rayne said with a trill of laughter, as she turned to continue down the stairs.
"One thing more," Charlie told her with a smile.
Rayne's winged brows flew upward. "Oh?"
"You have my muffin. Hand it over!"
Laughing, Rayne tossed it to her and sped down the stairs, while Charlie continued to her tower. Plunking down her booty, she found herself unable to settle. Then, practically of their own volition, her feet insisted on carrying her down the hall, down the main staircase, and from there to the library, where she found Zack seated in a wingback chair, reading a book.
He looked up as she entered the room and raised one black brow inquiringly, "To what do I owe this pleasure, etc.etc.?"
Charlie felt the beginnings of a blush and dug her nails into her palms. That he could make her feel even the teeniest bit flustered, was very unnerving! "Looking for a book. I see you've found yours?" she said, realizing how inane that sounded.
He smiled until his dimples bracketed his mouth, "So it would seem. I met your sister a short time ago. Interesting name 'Rayne'. Is she staying long?"
"Hopefully. We don't get to see her very often. Are we making too much noise? We do tend to do that when we all get together."
He crossed one ankle over his knee and leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a look she found very disturbing. "No...not really...perhaps a bit. By the way, I ran a set of your prints, .you aren't the only one who has contacts you know and you seem to be an 'enigma wrapped in a mystery' as they say."
Charlie felt a sudden awareness, a feeling of being caught in someone's cross hairs as they are about to pull the trigger, but none of that was apparent when she replied, "You really are full of surprises, aren't you? And just why would you be checking on me? Perhaps you think I am an axe murderer?"
He smiled and rested his chin on his steepled fingers. "You were a writer, freelance, traveling all over the world and getting into situations that ordinary tourists never encounter. Who were you working for?"
"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you, isn't that what I'm supposed to say?" Charlie inquired, beginning to enjoy herself.
"You're kidding, of course."
"Not entirely," she replied with a smile.
He rose then and was at her side in two steps. She stood her ground, when he grabbed her by the shoulders. He looked into her eyes and smiled. That beguiling smile she almost remembered? He shook her then, just once. "Word is that you've retired. I think that's wise."
"If I knew what you were talking about, I might agree. Would you please take your hands off me?" Charlie asked without really meaning it.
He let her go then and stalked to the window. When he spoke, she had to strain to catch his words. "Is Devon dead?"
He turned to watch her, as he waited for her reply. "I don't know. What are you doing here? Are you writing a book or trying to solve the mystery?"
"The two would not be mutually exclusive, would they? Do you think he is a murderer?" he asked moving closer again.
"I don't know the answer to that either. Apparently, you have access to all the information I do. Except for the journal, which she had no intention of sharing, she thought to herself. "What do you think? Or am I allowed to ask?"
He smiled. "I visited Sunnyvale the other day. Apparently, in your wake. Devon had an interesting history from what Nell had to say. Nell and others. She also told me you upstaged me with chocolates and a 'wee white dog'. What do you think was the nature of the relationship between the twins?"
Charlie flushed slightly and hated herself for it. She wasn't sure why she wouldn't tell him about the journal and then she remembered. She wasn't entirely sure he wasn't Devon! "I have things to attend to," she told him brusquely and fled the room. She heard him laugh as she closed the door and remembered that was the second time he'd done that. It made her mad...and it made her something else she didn't want to think about overmuch. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was not going to mention one word of their conversation to Meg, who knew nothing about her past and, hopefully, never would.
\*\*\*
As the days passed, Rayne busied herself "scoping out the competition!" She poked around the countryside and came back with her latest ideas for making 'Hensley Hell', as she persisted in calling it, "a big success!"
The report on the fingerprints came back. There were a lot, as was expected, but none from a registered felon. Whoever Meg's mysterious admirer was, he wasn't listed in any database. That should have made Charlie feel better...it certainly did Meg...but it didn't. She was still very uneasy. The sender could have wiped his prints off and, still be watching Meg. She would need to keep a closer eye on her sister.
Then one day at lunch, Rayne dimpled mysteriously and said around a ham sandwich she'd been picking at, "I met the most fascinating man today." Meg and Charlie uttered a collective groan. "Stop that, he is everything I should be interested in, at least right now. He's distinguished..."
"She means old," Charlie whispered to Meg.
With a huff of irritation, Rayne continued, "He's intelligent. educated, handsome and knows what to drive and how to dress."
"And just what is this paragon doing in Merritsville of all places?" Charlie asked lightly.
"I bumped into him at the Historical Society. Who would believe this town even has one?"
"And," Charlie prompted. Rayne was another one who had a hard time staying on track, but with her there was usually a reason. If she led you off the track, it was because she wanted to steer you in another direction.
"He says he's 'tracing his roots'. Apparently, his family came from this area and he was traveling along the coast and thought he'd just drop in and check out...."
"The Historical Society," Charlie supplied. "What part are you leaving out?"
"He said he'd heard about the contest and, well, I invited him to dinner. He would love to see the house and, who knows, he may know the right kind of people to help us get things off the ground."
"When and who?"
"If Annie doesn't mind terribly, I told him tonight would be fine. And his name is Adrian Adams," she told them with a too bright smile that made them both groan again.
As they finished lunch, Rayne laid out her plans for the evening. It was a must that Annie be the one to answer the door, when he arrived. "It gives a better impression than if one of you does it. Does she have a little cap and apron she can wear?" When Meg and Charlie answered her with matching scowls, she continued, "We will, of course, use the main dining room, though it is not very intimate for a party of four. Meg, you can arrange something as a centerpiece. And I'll select some flowers for the front parlor, where we will greet him, when Annie announces his arrival."
Annie was listening to Rayne rattle on and smiled, when Meg suggested they use the four places closest to the kitchen to make it easier to serve. "And we want to help you, Annie. There's no reason you should do it all. I can peel vegetables and Charlie can set the table and..."
Annie laughed, "I'll not be needin' any help from the two of you...Lord love you both for offerin'... but that's me job. You be the fine ladies tonight and I won't be ahearin' otherwise!"
At 7PM sharp, Adrian Adams arrived in his black Jaguar. Annie led him to the front parlor, where the three sisters waited per Rayne's instructions. She was posed gracefully on the window seat in a way that showed off her incredibly long legs. Rising with the fluid grace, Meg and Charlie had watched her perfect in her teenage years, she crossed the room and made the introductions. Fluttering her hands gracefully, she told Adrian she would play "bar tender for the night, since they were still woefully understaffed".
As she made them all a drink, Meg and Charlie studied Rayne's latest interest. Not tall but quite good looking! Probably touched up the gray in his black hair. Impeccably dressed and his manners were flawless. Even his voice was cultured perfection!
He was entertaining them with a story of his exploits in Kenya, big game hunting, that made both Charlie and Meg want to quietly vomit in Rayne's carefully arranged flowers, when Annie announced," Dinner be served!"
This was the first time they'd used the main dining room and both Meg and Charlie were proud of how it had turned out. The crystal chandelier was dimmed to supplement the tall white candles that banked the centerpiece Meg had worked on most of the afternoon.
Adrian helped them all to their seats. He laughed as he pulled out their chairs. "Usually, my attentions are directed to just one beautiful woman instead of three," he told them smoothly.
"It was the butler's day off, or he could have relieved you of some of the responsibility," Charlie replied, raising one brow in an unspoken challenge.
He looked at her and narrowed his eyes, then laughed again, this time without humor. With everyone seated, they waited for Annie to serve. As she scurried about, muttering under her breath "serve from the right...take away from the left or tis it the other way round", Rayne leaned close to Adrian's ear and whispered something she didn't want her sisters to hear, which Meg thought decidedly bad manners, so she whispered in Charlie's ear. "I don't like him."
"I know. Who would unless you like the arrogant a-hole type, but he's not our pick and Rayne's a big girl," she whispered back.
"She was a 'big' girl last year and remember the mess she got herself into?"
"Let's just hope she learned something from all that."
"Wanna bet?"
Adrian broke in on them then. The candlelight flickered across his handsome face, as he raised his wine glass and said, "Here's to your every success. This place is really something. That contest was a stroke of genius, if it was legal, but of course they would have checked all that before hand. Rayne tells me the place is haunted?"
Meg sent a well-aimed kick at Rayne's shin and was rewarded with a yelp of real pain. Annie paused and looked at her, then finished refilling her wine glass. If she had heard the 'haunted' word she didn't give any indication.
"That's just one of Rayne's marketing ideas," Charlie told him largely because she had to say something.
He laughed, "Rather a clever one at that. You'll have to see how it plays out. I wonder how they will figure out the taxes on this place?" he asked looking at her over the rim of his glass.
"The property tax rate is low around here," Charlie began.
"And the income tax? Of course you realize you will have to pay 50% on a contest award."
After that, neither Charlie nor Meg heard much of what went on around them. They both operated on auto pilot as they finished their meal, had coffee in the drawing room, said their 'good byes' with pasted on smiles, and hurried Adrian out the door with Rayne attached to his arm.
When they were finally alone in Meg's room, Charlie collapsed on the bed and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, Meg, what have I got us into? Why didn't I think of that before? Fifty percent! Oh, Meg, and there's Sage and Dad involved in this fiasco, too, and it's all my fault!"
Meg did the only thing she knew how to do. Wrapping her arms around her sister she dragged her into a hug. "Don't be such a poop, Charlie. I am as much to blame as you are, if we should even want to blame anyone. We're in this together. You and me. We'll manage. We always have. The Ravynne sisters, remember?"
Charlie was crying openly by then and so was Meg. "Dear God," Charlie prayed silently. "Please let Meg be right, at least this once!"
\*\*\*
"You know that marketing idea we won't mention may have some merit," Rayne said thoughtfully over breakfast.
"Annie's picking parsley or something so she can't hear you. You know we don't want her to know the place is haunted. If you had to tell what's his name, you might have told him to keep his mouth shut," Charlie told her irritably. She would have wondered why Rayne was even up so early, if she hadn't noticed she was still wearing what she wore last night. "And I think you should be careful. Who is this guy? What do you really know about him?"
"Yes, mother. So why do you both look like the living dead this morning?"
"Taxes. Your new boyfriend dropped the tax bomb on us last night," Charlie said with a moan.
"For some reason, we just didn't figure it in," Meg added. "But I know everything will be all right. Charlie's last book will be a big success and I'm going to find a job. So, we'll manage."
"Well, back to what I was saying before. The haunted angle could work for you. There are plenty of people fascinated by the supernatural. Adrian and I discussed it at length."
"Now we know why you arrived back here just in time for breakfast. I don't want our ghosts exploited," Meg said, "they trust us!"
"And Old Thumper? Does he trust you, too?" Rayne asked sarcastically "You two really are something! I'm here to help, remember? And you, Meg. I'm surprised at you even mentioning how I may have spent my night. That's Charlie's job to meddle in everyone's affairs...bad choice of words!" Rayne stormed , as she snatched up a blueberry muffin and fled the room in a royal huff.
"Well, she's right in a way I guess," Charlie said with a sigh. "Maybe I do hover over everyone like a helicopter, but I don't want to see any of you hurt. I've seen too much to be any other way."
"Fine by me. You can hover around like the mother hen helicopter from hell and I won't mind. I'll tell you when I've had enough. I always have," Meg reminded her with a laugh and punched her in the shoulder, just as Annie walked through the door.
"Now, you two, I will not be havin' fisticuffs in me kitchen any time before noon," she told them with a smile. "Where's that sister of yours, who's still awearin' what she wore and comin' home not more than thirty minutes ago?"
Meg and Charlie laughed. Apparently Charlie had competition in the 'mither' hen department. "Upstairs to get some sleep. Thanks for everything last night. You were splendid," Meg told her.
Charlie chimed in, "You must know how much it means to us having you here?"
Annie looked at them both, then took the seat Rayne had vacated. "It be time we had us a wee chat. I may be an old woman, but I'm not a daft old woman, at least not yet. What's this 'haunted' business I be hearin' from your sister's fancy man last night?"
Meg and Charlie looked at each other and then at Annie. Meg was the first to speak, "Well, we didn't tell you, since you never asked."
"What Meg is trying to tell you is that, living in the apartment as you are, even though you do stay here after dark some nights, you never go upstairs, which is where everything significant seems to happen."
"I be guessin' that's your way of tellin' me that this place be haunted. And why shouldn't I know about that?" Annie asked, looking from one to the other.
"We didn't want you to leave us," Meg supplied lamely.
"Leave you! The likes of me scared off by some wee ghostie?" Annie scoffed.
Charlie grimaced. "Well, one of them is not some 'wee ghostie'. I think it would be wise to let it go at that."
"It be an old place full of creaks and groans and such, but a ghostie...wee or not...I have yet to see. Nor likely to since I'm not a believin' in such!"
Meg and Charlie both beamed. "That's great. That means you'll stay. Rayne wants to exploit the haunted angle to attract guests," Meg told her.
"Fine by me. Just don't be askin' me to dress up in no sheet and pounce on folks shoutin' 'Boo!' I have me work to do and, as for the rest, it sounds like you've made up your minds," Annie said, pushing herself up from the table.
"Unfortunately, we don't seem to have much choice unless we can move the whole place to the seaside," Charlie said with a wry smile.
\*\*\*
Days passed. Rayne was supposedly photographing the area's attractions with Adrian. Meg was looking at turning their one really sunny half-acre into a "daylily farm". "I know I can make a success of it. I'll raise exotics and they will be absolutely gorgeous...an attraction all by themselves...at least while they're in bloom. Otherwise they aren't much to look at," she told Charlie.
Meanwhile, Charlie threw herself into her writing and Annie continued being 'Annie'. Zack came and went without anyone seeing him, though they heard doors opening and closing, his car starting up, which was fine with Charlie. He tipped her balance way off kilter and knew entirely too much.
Then one night, Meg woke shivering with cold and reflexively pulled the extra blanket over both her and Freddie, who was curled in a tight ball with his tail covering his nose. Meg poked her head up and looked around. Breanna had to be somewhere close. Then she saw her, pacing the floor back and forth back and forth and wringing her hands. Something Meg thought they only did in Gothic novels. But there she was 'wringing' away. And wailing.
Meg moaned and sat up on the edge of her bed, pulling the blanket over her shoulders and lifting one corner for Freddie to burrow under. "What's wrong, Breanna? What do you want? We read your journal and we want to know how to help you?" Meg asked.
Breanna turned to her then, her eyes round with entreaty, and wailed again.
Meg sighed. This was not going anywhere, she thought. "Okay. You can't, or won't, talk to me. Then how will I know what to do?"
Another wail.
Then Meg had an idea. A seance! She hadn't held one since she and Charlie were kids. Not that she'd ever contacted anyone except for the vampire and that didn't turn out so well.
She watched as Breanna wavered then faded, leaving one last wail lingering behind. She crawled back under the covers and waited until Freddie repositioned himself. She was more than half afraid he would want to go out again and she didn't want to wake Charlie. She had promised she wouldn't go out at night unless she went with her and so far she'd managed to keep her word.
Freddie began to 'woof' softly and his hind legs pumped against her side. He was asleep and she wished she could be, too. But her mind wouldn't let her. She began to plan her séance. She knew she was a ghost magnet, but she wasn't a medium, which was the usual requirement, though that hadn't stopped her in the past. Which might explain her track record.
Who could she get to attend? Maybe the more the better, increased energy and all that? Well, she could count on Charlie and maybe Annie, though she wasn't a believer. Rayne was a must, since she was their 'publicist' and should have some idea of what she was 'publicizing'. And if Rayne was there, Adrian would want to be there, too. And Zack. Charlie and Zack struck sparks off each other but they could probably be in the same room for a little while without a total conflagration. Six altogether! Was that a good number, she wondered? Sage could have told her, but she probably would also have told her not to do it. She was still mulling that over when she fell fast asleep.
\*\*\*
The séance was to be held that night in the front parlor around the big claw foot table. Meg was having an attack of jitters as she paced her bedroom. "Breanna, please show up tonight and actually say something. No more wailing, please! It's getting to be kind of irritating. This is my very first public séance and I don't want it to be a complete disaster with all those people there. Now I know that sounds a wee bit 'about me', when it should be all about 'you' but I only had one real success in this séance business. And we can help you if you'll let us. I know we can!" There was no response, not even the teeniest drop in temperature or muffled wail. Meg was beginning to get a headache...something she hardly ever did.
Annie had been difficult to persuade, but when she told her that she was trying to help Breanna, the Hensley's daughter, she reluctantly agreed. Everyone else also accepted Meg's invitation and all six gathered around the table at 9PM sharp. They were seated according to the cards Meg had arranged: Charlie to her right, then Zack, Rayne and Adrian, then Annie on her left. Everyone but Annie, who wore her usual shapeless cotton dress, wore formal attire and it was an elegant group that looked expectantly at Meg.
Butterflies were jumping in her stomach and her hands were shaking slightly, as she told them, "I know that most of you have never been to a séance before...or thought to...but here you are and thanks for coming. We are going to attempt to contact the other side. Before we begin, I will tell you that it is usually a medium that conducts this sort of thing. She enters a trance and lets her spirit guide...usually an American Indian for some reason I can' imagine though that may just be from what I've read and there may be other..." Charlie kicked her under the table. She took a deep breath and continued. "Anyway. I'm not a medium. But Charlie can tell you that I seem to attract ghosts and such and I have been in contact with Breanna Hensely, the twin daughter that disappeared forty years ago."
Charlie could feel Zack's eyes burning a hole in her and threw him a superior smile, as if to say, "See! You don't know everything!" His answering smile promised? She wasn't sure what, but it made her pulse quicken. She turned her attention back to Meg, who was saying, "Some of you may have questions, but I ask you to remain quiet at all times. Later, if all goes well, I will have you write your questions on the pads I have provided next to each of you. Charlie will turn off the lights now, though the candles on the mantle will remain lit. I will ask you to join hands, forming a circle, which you must not break. And no talking at any time. I must have the complete concentration of everyone on one goal...bringing the spirits that haunt Hensley Hall to us."
Meg was beginning to get a feel for it and rather liked being in charge. She waited till Charlie rejoined the circle. "Now join hands and concentrate!" she ordered.
Nothing happened. The candles on the mantle danced in some hidden breeze, casting writhing shadows around the darkened room. Someone cleared their throat, someone shuffled their feet and Zack squeezed Charlie's hand almost painfully.
Now what,? Meg thought in a sudden panic. She'd seen movies....she'd have to wing it! "Is there anyone with us tonight?" she asked in a sonorous tone. "Please make yourself known!"
Nothing! Though it seemed the wind had picked up outside the windows. Was that a good sign, Meg wondered? She tried again. "Is anyone with us tonight?" I'm dying here, she told herself, before she realized that was a poor choice of words. Please, Breanna, she silently begged and then continued, "Is there...?"
The temperature began to drop...and drop. A keening wail came from everywhere. A wail that Meg could recognize anywhere! Breanna was coming through for her. "Thank you," she muttered under her breath, then asked aloud, "Breanna is that you?"
She felt Annie's hand tighten and heard a collective gasp, as a ball of light hovered near the ceiling.
"Breanna, we are here to help you. Tell us what we can do?"
Annie's grip had become painful. The ball of light rolled across the ceiling and down the wall. In the middle of the floor it began to elongate into a pulsing blue spire...the scent of roses was overpowering. A murmur swept the table as the spire began to advance in their direction. The room grew colder still, as the shape of a woman formed, dissolved, then formed again.
"Breanna, please speak to me," Meg found herself begging.
Breanna looked at her and smiled. Then uttered one word. "Devon?"
"Oh my God!" Rayne began, starting to rise.
"Don't break the circle! She won't hurt you!" Meg shouted. "Breanna, where's Devon?"
She smiled again and it was a smile of recognition and love. "Devon" she murmured softly.
Then she heard, what she had been afraid they would hear. Coming down the hall...coming their way....thump...thump...thump.
Breanna's eyes widened in horror and she began to fade. "Devon, please," she managed to say, before she vanished. But whatever was coming down the hall, kept coming... closer and closer and closer.
Everyone stared in horror, as a black shadowy mass flowed through the closed door and began to morph into the shape of a man. A man whose slitted red eyes searched the table just as Charlie heard Zack say, "What the hell?"
Which was exactly where that came from, Charlie thought, as she gripped Meg's hand tighter and told her "It's okay, Meg. It's okay", while Meg kept muttering "I am in charge...I am in charge", as Rayne screamed then fled the room with Adrian close behind. Nobody noticed Annie, who sat staring at the monstrous thing before her with a mixture of disbelief and horror.
Then Zack turned on the lights. And the room was back to normal if 'normal' meant full of white-faced people who looked like they'd just seen a ghost. Annie fled the room, which left Meg, Charlie and Zack.
He looked at them both, then turned his attention to Charlie. "Nice parlor trick...no pun intended...but a bit much if you want to keep your guests coming back for more. Heard about the 'haunted' thing and wondered what you were up to. You'll have to let me know how you did it some time. You know how much I enjoy our little conversations," he told her with a smile, then strolled from the room.
"Meg, are you all right?" Charlie asked worriedly.
"That sure was something! Who'd a thought I could pull that off?" Meg asked with a shaky smile. "I'm a helluva lot better at this than I thought I was! Is everyone okay?"
"Rayne's with Adrian. She's scared, but she'll be fine. I'm more worried about Annie. Let's go find her and see if we can calm her down."
"Charlie?"
"Meg?"
"Didn't Breanna seem to be talking to Devon or was that just my take?"
Charlie looked at her still badly rattled sister and drew her into a hug. "Yes, that's what I thought, too. She was speaking to someone at our table...either Zack or Adrian must be Devon. Or rather might be. We don't know how reliable Breanna is when it comes to that sort of thing."
"Surely, she would know her own brother. But which one is it? If it's Zack, he lives in the same house as us and, if it's Adrian, Rayne may be dallying with a murderer? This can't be good either way!"
"Probably not!" Charlie told her thoughtfully.
\*\*\*
Annie had fled back to the safety of her apartment. Meg and Charlie followed her there and knocked on her door. They could hear her moving about inside, her dog, Tavish, whining, but she wouldn't answer their knocks nor their entreaties. Finally, they were forced to give up and return to the house, where they found that Adrian had left and apparently taken Rayne with him. They both fully never expected to see their sister enter the house again, or Annie, who was probably busy packing. Zack seemed to be the only one unaffected by the whole thing and, since they hadn't heard his car, they assumed he was in his room, though they could hear no sound coming from that end of the house.
They made their way upstairs to Meg's room, where Freddie had been left during the séance. Together, they took him out for his last walk, then headed straight back upstairs, leaving every light on in their wake. Meg asked to sleep in Charlie's room. Both sisters were way more rattled than either wanted to admit.
The remainder of the night was quiet, though neither sister escaped some very bad dreams. Early the next morning, they went down to the kitchen with Freddie racing on ahead of them. The wonderful aroma of coffee and bacon was waiting for them when they opened the bottom door. Annie was still with them and they both felt their spirits lift.
But the Annie that met them in the breakfast room with the coffee pot in her hand was not the 'Annie' they knew. She was quiet and unsmiling...her greeting was perfunctory at best. "We're sorry, Annie. We didn't know it would turn out like that," Meg began.
"I didn't have to go, did I? It was me own fault," she muttered and went back to the kitchen.
"Now what are we going to do?" Meg asked.
"Good question. Let's give her a little time," Charlie began just as Rayne stormed through the hall door. "If you think I am going to spend one more night in this....this place...you are both crazy. And if you don't get rid of that thing you conjured up, your guests will be dropping like flies from heart failure! Now, if one of you will come with me to my room, I'm packing!"
Charlie began to reassure her, but Meg was quicker. "I know that what happened last night must have scared the bejabbers out of you. It's all my fault. I must have summoned him, unintentionally, of course. I really was only hoping for Breanna and not expecting even her, but he's gone now. Probably back in his room, where he'll stay. (hopefully, she muttered to herself) Believe me, Rayne, that's my last séance. I promise I'll never hold one again!"
Rayne plunked down next to them and smiled ruefully. "Okay. You're my sisters and I won't leave you to deal with whatever that was alone."
Charlie smiled back at her. "Some day we will all think we had a great adventure, survived, and lived to laugh about it."
Rayne looked at her pointedly. "Like that is ever going to happen! How's Annie doing?"
"Mostly just mutters and shakes her head. Though she did manage a rather strained 'good morning'," Charlie told her. "Sh-hhh! Here she comes!"
Annie stood in the door with her hands on her hips. She looked from one sister to the other, till her gaze rested on Meg. "I'm not goin' to mention what happened last night. But I will not be settin' one foot inside this house after dark ever again and I will be out the door as fast as me old legs can carry me if you ever have one of those things...whatever you be callin' them...again."
"That means you're going to stay?" Meg asked, hardly daring to hope.
"I'll be a stayin'. Who'd take care of the lot of you, if I don't?"
There was a collective sigh of relief. "Well, in that case, Annie, what's for breakfast," Rayne asked with a wobbly smile.
\*\*\*
After breakfast, Rayne retired to her room for a nap...Meg headed out to the lake where she was clearing brush, and Charlie grabbed her coffee mug and returned to her keyboard, wondering how she was going to concentrate with so much going on. She had barely settled in her seat, when her door was flung open and Zack strode in.
She had heard the expression 'heart in her throat' and hadn't believed that was anatomically possible until now. She swallowed hard before she said as playfully as she could manage, "Come to catch the wizard behind the curtain?"
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked around slowly, then turned his gaze on her. "Despite what I said last night, I can't believe even you could create what we all saw. So, what's going on, Charlie? You're going to tell me everything," he said as he moved closer, then bent down till his face was just inches from hers.
"And why would I do that?" she asked feeling a rush of heat that she was very much afraid would turn into a full blush. "I don't even like you."
He laughed then and straightened. "Maybe because I have an interest in your welfare? And your sisters'?"
"You have heard the expression 'when hell freezes over'? That's exactly when I'll believe anything you say," she told him with a smile. "But, since you are staying here, maybe it's time you knew. Meg and I call him Old Thumper. I'm rather surprised you haven't heard him by now, since you are almost right over his room."
"The locked rooms with the tissue in the keyholes. I've had a look inside. Creepy place. Left just as it was when they hanged themselves...what... three years ago?"
"Give or take. He's kind of a demonic spirit and haunts this house. Meg and I can usually hear him coming...his cane"
"Old Thumper! I get it. And Breanna?"
"She's been visiting us ever since we first got here. And there's a ghost cat named 'Cloud' that usually sleeps with me each night."
"Lucky cat," he seemed to murmur, though she couldn't be entirely sure. He raised one black brow and said, "None of which you cared to tell me about?"
She stood and was surprised to find him much taller than she'd thought. "There was no reason you needed to know until now. Meg and I feel a sense of responsibility towards Breanna. She has made herself known to us and seems to need our help to find whatever it is she's searching for. Perhaps it's peace...perhaps it's justice," she told him with quiet intensity, as she stared deeply into his dark eyes.
"Perhaps it's both. So, that explains the séance. Which didn't exactly do much that I could see except scare everyone into apoplexy. Myself included ...or almost. But there was one thing. Breanna seemed to be talking to her brother, Devon, as though he was in the room with us," he told her, as he seemed to be studying her lips with an intensity of his own.
"Meg and I caught that, too. If she wasn't speaking to Devon's spirit that, for some reason, we couldn't see, that leaves two possibilities."
"Which are?"
"Devon is either Adrian or you!"
"Me!" he exclaimed with a laugh that held no humor Charlie could detect!
"You! Now if you don't mind I have a book to get back to and you should probably do the same. Good day, Mr. Mallory. Don't slam the door when you leave," she told him, purposefully turning her back, though it took almost more will power than she had. She could feel the heat from his eyes boring through her skin, and she almost turned around, but then she heard the door slam violently and knew it was too late. She sighed. That was probably a good thing, right? she asked herself, without having a clue how to answer her own question.
\*\*\*
The next few days only seemed 'normal' if nobody looked too closely! Annie seemed distracted...Rayne slept with all her lights on and her mom's talismans under her pillow and Zack wasn't seen at all.
Then the knocker sounded and another dozen white roses arrived. The card read simply: You are my heart. Meg carried them into the kitchen and plunked them down on the table, then sat looking at them with her elbows propped up next to them. "I don't think I've ever been anyone's 'heart' before," she told Annie, who was slicing carrots next to her. "These are really beautiful, but I think I'll stick them outside. If I keep them in the house it makes me feel like he's in here, too, which would not make me sleep any better. Not that I've been doing so much of that lately. Have you ever had a secret admirer, Annie?"
"The likes of me?" she scoffed. "Who'd be wantin' this old soul?"
Meg took a slice of carrot and nibbled along its edge. "You know, I never really noticed before, but if you did something with your hair"
"That's more than enough of your foolishness," she said with a laugh. "I'm an old woman set in me ways not needin' a man to muss things up."
"You're not so old and with the right clothes and some makeup, you could be pretty...really pretty. Wouldn't you like someone besides just your dog for company?"
"Seems good enough for you," she retorted with a snort. "Your 'secret admirer' seems the persistent kind. What do you suppose he'll be doin' next?"
"I don't want to suppose. I just wish he would admire someone else. Preferably someone not living in this house," Meg said with a sigh. "Wait till Charlie sees these. She has too much on her mind already and this won't help."
"Then why be tellin' her? No point in a stirin' the pot, I say. If she didn't hear the delivery boy, we won't be a tellin her a thing, will we?" Annie said with a wink and a tap to the side of her nose.
Meg smiled in agreement, as she helped herself to another piece of carrot.
Rayne congratulated herself on her latest marketing 'stroke of genius'! She would hold an Open House and invite everyone of consequence. There were people she knew and people Adrian knew, who could be persuaded to come with a little arm twisting. Something she'd seen Adrian do on more than one occasion.
And then there were the politicians and people of influence in Merritsville. People like the Tax Assessor, a Mrs. Blaine, who might be inclined to assess Hensley Hall at a reasonable rate, considering its state at the time of the contest. Of course, the press, such as it was, would be there. She would hire a professional photographer to take pix that might be useful in one context or another. Since Meg and Charlie had no objection other than the expense, which Rayne pooh-poohed with "''You have to spend money to make money'", a date was decided on and invitations sent. The little town was abuzz with excitement.
Rayne busied herself with 'list making' and 'delegation', which quite 'taxed' her energy. Then one night, having restored her energy enough to go dancing with Adrian, she returned home late. A full moon rode a trail of feathery clouds as the black Jaguar pulled through the wrought-iron gates and up the drive. Moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting a web of lacey black shadows on the drive in front of them. A night wind stirred restlessly.
Both towers were lit and Rayne smiled. Charlie was waiting up for her. Since the séance, she never let her come home to a dark house. Rayne leaned back in her seat and sighed, her hand sought Adrian's. "I don't really feel like going in just yet. Why don't we walk down to the lake?"
Adrian smiled, his teeth flashing whitely in the dark. "Skinny dipping, or do you have something else in mind?"
"I'm surprised you have the energy for either, considering."
Without waiting for his reply, she slid out the door. The night wind teased her long dark hair and flattened her silk tank dress against her thighs. "This feels wonderful," she said as Adrian rounded the car and slipped his arm around her shoulders, "with the full moon we can see the path through the trees and down to the lake. Come on! Maybe I'll let you have your way with me, if you can catch me that is!" She was laughing as she broke free of his grasp and headed down the crushed shell path that was luminous with moonlight.
Turning her ankle, she swore petulantly, "Dammit! I can't out run you in these heels, but if I take them off the shells will cut my feet to ribbons...not to mention what they'll do to my pedicure."
Adrian murmured, "I could carry you. Your knight and all."
She laughed, "Then we'll both go crashing into something. Give me your arm and I'll be fine."
The path wound deeper into the trees and shrubs. Though the center of this section had been bush-hogged, the area remained overgrown with brush, vines and trees that had been ornamental decades ago. They passed the rose arbor that Meg and Annie had pruned back, .the scent was amazing., even headier at night.
"I hope this isn't too much farther," Adrian muttered, as a mosquito whined close to his ear.
Rayne laughed again. "Just around that bend if I remember rightly, but everything looks so different in the dark. Look! There's the lake and the bench next to it in that little patch of grass."
The moon's reflection floated like a fat silver coin on the black surface of the lake. A bullfrog croaked. Crickets grew quiet at their approach, then began to sing again. Lightning bugs blinked on and off, signaling to each other. It was an enchanted place. At least to Rayne.
"Is that white thing in the middle of the lake the 'Folly' you told me about?" Adrian asked, brushing, impatiently, at another mosquito.
"Yes, it's the ruin of a miniature castle. The Victorians loved that kind of thing."
"Seems like a waste of money to me. Hey, do you mind if I go back to the car and get my cigarettes? A little smoke might keep these bloodsuckers off me. Be back in a moment." He was gone before she could answer, but she knew it was a rhetorical question anyway. And besides, he was beginning to get on her nerves. She was probably only still seeing him, because Meg and Charlie didn't approve. That and the other thing. He was good in bed, very good, in fact, and she didn't fancy the celibate life her sisters seemed to choose.
She stretched and pirouetted. Then reached for the moon. A primitive energy seemed to come up from the earth, through her feet, higher and higher. She kicked off her shoes and began to dance. Twirling and leaping, her hair fanning out around her like black silk, she was a child again, dancing in the moonlight, unfettered by life's complications. Faster and faster she spun, until she fell laughing to the ground. Leaning back on her outstretched arms, she lifted her face to the moon. Maybe this was how her mother felt....pagan...part of the earth and the sky and everything in between. It was glorious!
And then she heard it. A sound that didn't belong. A rustle, a snap, and she knew she was not alone. Her heart began to thud and she rose to her feet. Spinning in all directions, she looked around. She couldn't see anyone, but the prickly awareness that teased its way up her spine and raised the hairs on the back of her neck told her someone was there, deep in the shadows, watching her.
"Is anyone there?" she asked, putting on her shoes and edging her way around the bench that stood between her and the path back to safety. "I know you're there, so come out where I can see you?" she said, stalling for time. "We can sit down and...." She was off like a rabbit, .but, sadly, a rabbit in stiletto heels was not as fast as she would have liked. The rustles grew louder as, keeping to the shadows, someone gave chase. He was gaining on her easily. He could take the shorter route through the trees, while she was forced to follow the path. Suddenly, it occurred to her to scream. Screaming like a banshee straight from hell, she rounded a corner and ran into a very solid male form. Adrian.
He drew her into his arms. "What's wrong, darling? You haven't seen that thing from the séance who, we were assured, never left the house?"
"No, someone is back there. He chased me! Please get me out of here," she panted, as her entire body began to shake.
By then, Charlie, Meg and Freddie were headed their way. Charlie reached them first and pulled Rayne into her arms, "For God's sake, Rayne, are you all right? Has something happened? Adrian...has he hurt you?"
Rayne shook her head against Charlie's shoulder and began to cry. Meg wrapped her arms around both her sisters and Freddie began to howl in distress. Rayne looked at them, then said, "There was someone down by the lake. He chased me and I took off running. I was almost here, before I remembered to scream. Isn't that silly of me? Then I ran into Adrian and he brought me here. Oh, look! I ruined my Pradas!"
"Take her into the kitchen, Adrian. There's brandy in the cupboard over the sink. I'm going to take a look around. Meg, take Freddie inside and stay with the others. I'll be right back," Charlie told them, as she drew her 38 revolver from the waistband of her jeans.
Charlie started down the path towards the lake. "All right you son-of-a-bitch, come out where I can see you!" she called. It was quiet...too quiet. It seemed as though the night was holding its breath, then, suddenly, Charlie heard a footstep behind her.
Whirling she trained her gun on the approaching figure. "Don't shoot! It's just me," Meg called. "I brought you a flashlight. Of course you wouldn't need something as mundane as that, but just in case."
"Get back in the house, you idiot! I almost killed you," Charlie hissed.
"I'm here and I'm staying here. Did you see anything?"
"No, just stay close and shut up. I'm still furious with you!"
They followed the path to the edge of the lake. A fish jumped and the rings rippled out in the moonlight. Meg flipped on the flashlight and looked around. "Rayne has as much imagination, as any of us, so she might have spooked herself."
"Maybe someone did give chase. We'll check in the morning. It's too dark to see much now and whoever was here is gone by now. We have enough problems with what we know is in the house to have some fiend or pervert out here, too."
"Isn't that being redundant? Anyway, I might as well tell you, since we're talking 'perverts' that I received another dozen roses. This time the card read: You are my heart. I threw them out before you could see them," Meg confided.
Charlie smiled and tugged at Meg's mop of tangled hair. She must have been fast asleep, when Rayne screamed. "I know you did that with all the best intentions, so I'll let it pass this once. As soon as this Open House thing is over, I'm sending Rayne packing. I'd do the same with you if you'd let me."
Meg smiled and linked her arm with Charlie's. "I live here, remember? I'm not going anywhere without you."
Charlie sighed tiredly. "Oh, Meg. I have a feeling I couldn't stop you no matter how hard I tried."
"Only if you shoot me. And you already blew your chance. Let's go get a shot of brandy and see if Rayne's over her hysterics yet."
It took a while to persuade Adrian to leave, after which the sisters grabbed the brandy bottle and headed upstairs, where they all piled onto Charlie's bed, since none of them wanted to be alone. Finishing off the brandy, they settled in as well as three...no four counting Freddie...could in a double bed. Needless to say, none of them slept well.
The next morning, Meg and Charlie left a sleeping Rayne, dressed, and headed downstairs. Annie was already busy in the kitchen and seemed unaware of last night's commotion. She called to them, as they left through the back door, "Don't be a goin' too far. Breakfast is in two shakes."
With Freddie running on ahead, seduced every now and then by some tantalizing scent, they retraced their path from the night before. When they reached the stone bench at the edge of the lake, Charlie said, "You take that side and I'll take this one. You know what we're looking for. Freshly broken twigs, or branches...overturned leaves...and, if we're really lucky, footprints."
Both sisters combed the undergrowth on either side of the path and it didn't take long for Meg to discover what they were looking for. "Someone's been through here, Charlie," she called. "Too many leaves and pine needles for footprints, but you can see where someone's shoe turned them over."
In seconds, Charlie joined her and examined her find. "Let's see if we can follow them. You don't suppose Freddie has any tracker dog in him, do you?"
They watched him bounding, joyfully, after a squirrel. "He's a veritable blood hound when it comes to...."Meg replied ruefully.
"Cats and squirrels. I know." Charlie supplied with a shake of her head.
They followed the trail until it came to an end. "This is about where Rayne said she ran into Adrian. Coincidence?" Meg asked.
"Pooh! You don't believe in those any more than I do. And Adrian likes to hunt, remember?" Charlie replied with a grim smile.
"Only too well. So much for all this just being a figment of another raving Ravynne! How many perverts can one family attract?"
Charlie gave her a pointed stare and said, "I'm not sure it's safe to even ask that question!"
\*\*\*
The flurry of preparations was finally over and the Open House went off as planned. The house tour itself was scheduled when there was still plenty of daylight for obvious reasons. But most of the festivities were planned for later in the evening outside on the grounds. A dance floor had been set up on the lawn. Japanese lanterns were strung around its perimeter and dangled from the trees. The weather did its part. By the time night had fallen, it had cooled deliciously and the moon added its own touch to a romantic setting.
Meg was fluttering about in a red kimono style dress, she felt made her look taller for some reason her sisters could not fathom, but didn't tell her so. Rayne was exquisite in a simple black dress that managed to show everything to advantage. She was the poised and elegant hostess, clinging to Adrian's arm. "You'd think they own this place," Meg whispered to Charlie.
"He paid for most of this so I don't mind a bit. Seems our little sister gave his conscience a little tweak. He was feeling guilty about leaving her to 'almost certain death' down by the lake," Charlie replied wryly.
Murmuring her thanks, Meg snatched a glass of champagne from one of the local girls hired to help serve. Everything was catered, since Annie had meant what she said about being in the house after dark. She studied Charlie over the rim of her glass. She was wearing a halter neck midnight blue dress that flowed like water over every curve. Her silver blonde hair was drawn back in a thick coil, emphasizing her long neck. She was breathtaking and totally unaware of it. "I see the band starting to tune up. I'm going to hide from a very persistent somebody whose name I don't remember. Come find me if Moe turns up."
Meg melted into the crowd and the band began to play. Charlie found herself moving slightly to the music, as couples began to drift onto the floor. "Is your dance card filled or do you have room for one more?" a familiar voice teased from behind her back.
She smiled despite herself, as Zack spun her around and let his eyes drift over her slowly. "You are beautiful. You are always beautiful," he murmured, "Come. Dance with me. I've been told I'm pretty good at it."
She let him lead her onto the floor. She could have stopped him, maybe even should have stopped him, but she didn't want to. It was as simple as that. Maybe it was the magic of the night; maybe it was his beguiling eyes...his smile. A smile that teased at her memory.
He pulled her into his arms. "Penny for?" he asked.
His closeness was doing all kinds of things to her body that she struggled to ignore. "With inflation, they should be worth way more than that! You've been gone for several days?"
"Miss me?"
"As much as you missed me!" she said dryly.
"Really. That much? I did some checking on my competition...Adrian."
Surprised, she looked up into his dark eyes. "Competition for what?" she asked.
"So soon you forget," he scoffed. "For the role of Devon, what else? Adrian Adams isn't his real name, in fact, he has more layers to his identity than an onion, but I don't think he's Devon. He does have his fingers in a lot of unsavory pies, though, not to mention where he's had the rest of his anatomy. Your sister would be wise to hunt elsewhere."
"My sister doesn't need to hunt anybody. In fact, while you were off doing whatever it was you were doing, someone apparently hunted her. Chased her up from the lake one night."
"Was she hurt?" he asked sharply.
"No, quite terrified, but unhurt. She ran into Adrian in the nick of time."
"I see. Adrian was there. There's something I should tell you, in case you haven't noticed, Rayne looks a lot like Breanna. Same dark hair...same gray eyes.
Charlie was stunned. Why hadn't she seen that before and Meg had been telling her Breanna looked familiar! She felt like all kinds of an idiot!
"And there's something more. Have you seen the photos of the girls who were murdered?"
"Just on the Internet and the photos...".also looked like Breanna, she suddenly realized. Where was her brain? She should have seen the likeness immediately, not have to have it pointed out by the very man she didn't want pointing out anything.
He didn't have to see her face to know what she was thinking. He could feel her emotions ripple through her body, as he drew her closer still. "Do you still think I'm Devon? It could have been his ghost that Breanna saw at Meg's séance," he asked his breath warm on her cheek.
She could smell his scent...feel the heat from his body...feel her own unwilling arousal and she hated herself for feeling any of it. She never wanted to feel anything ever again and yet? "I haven't ruled it out," she found herself saying, "otherwise, since you don't think it's Adrian, that only leaves you! Now it appears our dance is over and the rest of my 'card' is filled."
He held her at arm's length. His eyes were heavy lidded with a potent sensuality that set her pulse racing even faster than before. "Some day you'll wish you had been a little kinder to me, Charlie. You might need a friend before all this is over." And with that he strolled into the crowd and vanished.
Meg sidled up and looked at her sister speculatively. "What did he want and why are you two looking at each other like that?"
Charlie scowled irritably and snapped, "Like what?"
"Like he wants to eat you up and you want to let him!"
\*\*\*
Sitting on a bench close to the front gates, Brittany curled her knees up against her chest. It was getting cold. And it was dark...a whispery kind of dark...and she felt a twinge of regret at leaving the house alone. She had lied to Mrs. Mellon. "Stay with the group until someone picks you up," she had been ordered. But she told her she was catching a ride with the Brightons. That she couldn't stay to help clean up because her mother would have a stroke, if she wasn't home by ten. Not that she would. Her mom was always throwing a fit about something and hadn't dropped dead yet. Though sometimes she almost wished she would. As it was, she had to lie and sneak around, but if it meant two hours with Jayson before her weekend curfew, it was worth it. And the best part was that there was no way anyone would find out. She had made sure no one saw her slip away.
She shivered. It was much too cold for a summer night. Where was he anyway? He should have been here...it was too dark to see her watch...maybe half an hour ago? An owl hooted nearby. At least, she thought it was an owl. She had never heard one before. In fact, she never realized there would be so many sounds at night. Usually she was with Jayson and they were too busy to notice. Something rustled close by. Why had she come here anyway? This old place had always creeped her out. Creeped everyone out! None of the kids she hung out with would come near here even in the daytime, but then they had that stupid contest and the Ravynne sisters won.
She kinda liked the Ravynnne sisters. They were old, but okay. Except the snooty younger one. She didn't like her very much, but she had to admit she knew how to dress. Looking like her, had to cost a fortune! Probably, way more money than she'd ever have, but with the catering job she almost had enough to get the designer jeans she'd had her eye on for more than a month!
A car's headlights flashed through the trees, as it left the parking area by the house and swung down the drive. Then another. She could hear the gravel crunch beneath their tires, as they passed and hoped they couldn't see her. She watched the red taillights disappear through the gates and settled back with a sigh. "Where are you, Jayson? I'm getting really pissed!" she said out loud and "more than a little scared" she added under her breath.
She found herself thinking about the stories she'd heard: The missing Breanna Hensley...the murdered girls. But that was when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, she chided herself. Nothing ever happened in Merritsville now. Sometimes she wished it would. Something big! Something important! More important than winning a stupid contest that everyone seemed so excited about.
She heard voices up at the house...the slam of car doors...and headlights coming her way. The catering van passed her and sped through the gates. That was her last chance, if Jayson didn't come through. She could hitch, if she had to, though not many people came this far out this late at night.
Something stirred close by. A something she could sense more than see. She flipped open her cell phone and punched in his number. He wouldn't like her bugging him again, but she didn't care. She was really scared now. Maybe she should run back to the house, but it was a long way. Better to head for the street and wait for Jayson there. Everyone was gone by now and no one would see her and tattle to her mother. "Dammit, Jayson, you better pick up or..." Then, thankfully, she heard his voice, "Hey, I ran into and..."
She never heard the rest. Her cell phone clattered to the ground, as the blow caught her on the back of her head and she slid into utter darkness.
\*\*\*
He crushed the cell phone with his heel, then looked down at his prize, lying in a pool of cold moonlight that had fingered its way through the thick tangle of trees until it haloed her head. She looked like an angel. His angel. He had hit her harder than he'd intended. There was blood....lots of it, but he knew head wounds always bled a lot. But he couldn't risk leaving a trail for someone to follow. Maybe the police had smartened up, since the last time he'd been hungry.
He picked up the cell phone pieces and shoved them in his side pocket, then kicked some leaves over the drops of bright blood that glistened wetly. Tearing off a strip of her clothing he bound it around her head and surveyed his handiwork. She was still breathing...shallow, rapid, breaths. He didn't want her dead just yet.
She moaned and he nudged her with his toe. She lay quietly then. Reaching down he scooped her up in his arms. She was heavier than she looked, but, then, he was older now. What had been so easy a long time ago was not so easy any more and it was a long way to the cellar, if it was still even there. Maybe it had been bulldozed for some little ranch house that looked like every other one. He should have checked ahead of time. Prepared. Made sure everything was ready, but she had been an opportunity he couldn't resist. Like Rayne had almost been. He laughed. She had been faster than he had thought, especially in those shoes! But she had been so very beautiful. Dancing in the moonlight. Dancing for him.
He found himself whistling, as he slipped through the dark on paths and trails he'd thought forgotten. He felt like a boy again....eager...hot...swollen with desire. She stirred slightly and he looked down at her face. She was beautiful and the right age. He didn't have the white dress. It was with Breanna, who he never thought to see again after he buried her. But there she was...at the séance... looking for Devon.
They shouldn't have been there that night...following him...spying on him. Didn't she realize he had done it all for her? So he wouldn't be forced to violate her, though she tempted him in a hundred ways she didn't even realize. Or perhaps she did?
But the others had done nicely. There had been nothing to stop him from doing what he wanted to them...no inconvenient conscience to rear its ugly head. But then, maybe he had never been overburdened with one of those anyway. Maybe that was his peculiar blessing. One he didn't pass on to his son.
Bah! Son! It was laughable really. A sissy boy! He had wanted a son who had his passions, his strengths and, instead, he had sired two daughters! But Devon's body made a useful tool and this one would satisfy all his needs, even without the dress, which would have looked so very pretty on her.
He sighed. He was getting tired, but he couldn't stop. Almost there. Even this body was not as strong as he needed, but it did his bidding. Devon had been stupid. It had been a mistake to kill him and release him from that pathetic shell he limped about in for so many years. Now he was free to do what he wanted and he would never be caught. How could anyone catch him? He was as intangible as fog....the wind...a wisp of smoke. They might catch Devon, probably would, but there'd be others. Pathetic Devon deserved to be caught!
Ah, there was the chimney from the old house silhouetted against the sky. The cellar doors would be over there, just to the left.
He lay Brittany on the ground and pushed his way through the vines and brush that had overgrown the old foundation, then struggled to open the doors that were rotted through. It was blacker than the pit of hell below, but that didn't bother him. The dark was part of him now and he didn't need light to see where he was going or what he'd be doing.
He remembered everything and his groin tightened even harder in anticipation. This time Devon would have to do it...not puke and piss himself like he did before. This time he would make him do it. He was too powerful to be denied anything...especially by his puling son, who had turned out to be an even bigger disappointment than he had ever thought possible. He would make a man of him tonight. He smiled as he picked up his prey and carried her below.
\*\*\*
Charlie was surprised to find a young man with a tattoo of something crawling up his neck and silver studs bristling from his nose and lower lip, pounding on their front door after she had thought everyone had left for the night. His eyes were wild, and he was almost incoherent, but she managed to catch, "She called me up and I answered, but she didn't say nothin'. I heard the phone fall and she moaned or somethin' and then I couldn't hear nothin'. Just dead air. She was supposed to be waiting near the gates till I got there, but I was runnin' late. She wasn't there so I come up here, thinkin' maybe she'd be here."
"No one's here but us. Who are you looking for?" Charlie asked, as Meg joined her from the kitchen, where she and Freddie had been raiding the fridge.
"Her name's Brittany...Brittany Nelson...she was with the caterers. She was goin' to cut out early then me and her was going to head up to Butte Point and..., Anyway, like I said, she wasn't down by the gates, so I come up here."
"Meg, why don't you take, what was your name?" he mumbled 'Jayson' and she nodded, "into the kitchen while I call the police."
Some thirty minutes later a patrol car rolled up in front of the house. Merritsville only had one officer on duty at night, Dooley Fitts, and he wasn't particularly pleased to be called out to Hensley Hall.
Charlie and Meg led him back to the kitchen, where Jayson sat, drinking a cola. Apparently, Jayson was well known to the local cops. "Well now, Jayson, what are you up to tonight? What's this about Brittany going missing? You know you aren't supposed to be messing with her. Didn't her daddy tell you he was going to beat the hell out of your sorry ass...excuse me ladies...out of you the next time he saw you hanging around her?"
Charlie had heard enough. "That's not what is important here. He was supposed to meet her...was talking to he on her cell phone...when something apparently happened. And, we didn't report it at the time, but someone chased my sister up from the lake just a few days ago. Not likely to be a coincidence. Maybe we should start by looking at where Brittany was supposed to meet him?"
Fleetingly, Charlie wondered, as she led the way down the drive, where Zack was. Maybe he'd left for the night? Surely, if he was still in his room, he would have been curious enough to see what was going on, since he was every bit as nosey as she was!
It had grown colder, since they'd been outside earlier. The moon had settled deep in the trees. They could hear Annie's dog howl once, as they passed that way. Her windows were dark. She must be sound asleep, Charlie thought. Lucky her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept through a whole night. Sometime before they 'won' the house, the never-ending blood sucking renovation, Meg's parade of ghosts, and the 'tax bomb' Adrian had dropped. And too many other things she really didn't want to think about.
They continued to follow the drive past the fountain with its nymph and satyr that now sprayed water, after enough money had been thrown at it. "All part of your curb appeal" Rayne had told them more than once. And each time it drained their pockets even more. They reached the gates and looked around. "Let's fan out , but stay close. One missing is one too many," Charlie said. They pushed through the bushes and swept the area, calling Bittany's name, but there was no sign of her.
Annoyed that Charlie had taken charge, Officer Fitts gave them his take. "Jayson, you said you were late and she was pissed. Maybe she's just making you worry. Probably hitched a ride back home by now. Can't do nothing for twenty-four hours anyway. That's the rule. Twenty-four hours on a missing person report. Come down to the station tomorrow. Though if she's still missing by then, I imagine her folks will have beat you to it."
Charlie looked at Meg. "Which one of the girls was she?"
"The one with the long dark hair. Really pretty...maybe seventeen." Meg replied. "I have a really bad feeling about this!"
Charlie shivered. Another Breanna look alike. She couldn't help but wonder if anyone would ever see Brittany alive again.
They walked back to the house and waited in the drive, until Jayson and Officer Fitts climbed in their cars and drove off. "Better get Freddie and we'll get him walked," Charlie told Meg, "and we should check on Rayne. She and Adrian must have had a row. She went up to her room as soon as the last guest left and didn't say a word."
"I saw that. And he left early. Hey! Who's that coming up from the lake?" Meg asked excitedly. "Let's get inside and lock the door."
Charlie sensed who it was before she even saw him clearly. It was Zack. The wind teased his dark hair and his eyes were deeply shadowed, as he stepped out of the darkness. "What are you doing prowling about in the dark?" she asked.
"I might ask you both the same question. Is something going on?
"There's a girl missing," Charlie told him tensely.
He grabbed her arm and asked, "Who is it?"
"Bittany. She worked with the caterers."
"I'm betting the one with the long dark hair, right? Another Breanna look alike," he told her.
"Yes. I'm getting Rayne out of here in the morning. You never answered my question. What were you doing out there in the dark?"
"You still don't trust me do you? I wanted to see where Rayne had been that night and I wanted to see the 'Folly' on the island so I rowed over. It's a lonely place. Beautiful in the moonlight, but lonely and rather sad. Now doesn't that sound silly coming from a guy like me?"
"It was their favorite place...Breanna and Devon's. They used to go there in the moonlight...sneak out together," Charlie replied.
"How do you know all this? Have you been holding out on me?" he asked, brushing back a strand of silvery hair from her face.
Meg had been watching their exchange with a mixture of interest and disgust. Or was it envy? She wasn't sure, but enough was enough. "Seems I'm as invisible as one of my ghosts. I'm taking Freddie inside. He already did his thing in the bushes, while you guys were talking?"
But Charlie hadn't heard a word she said. "We found Breanna's journal. Her ghost led Meg to it. I think I'll let you see it now," she told him, still shivering from his touch.
"And not before?"
She smiled. "I wasn't ready. It's upstairs in my room. I'll check on Rayne, while we're up there. I think she had a row with Adrian. He took off early and she went up to her room. Meg," she called, looking around for her sister, but she was gone.
"Meg!" she called again, this time frantically, just as the door behind her popped open and Meg said, "If you had bothered to listen to a single word I said, you'd know I was safely inside...with Freddie. We'll be in the kitchen in case anyone is interested."
Charlie flushed, uncomfortably, only too aware of what Meg was trying to tell her. Making sure the door was locked behind them, she led the way up the front staircase and down the hall. She paused outside Rayne's door and listened. All she could hear was the sound machine she had borrowed cranking away on Rain Storm. Light poured from the crack beneath the door. She turned the knob, but it was locked. "Wait here, Zack. I'll get the journal and bring a key. I want to make sure she's okay."
She was back in moments. Handing him the journal, she said, "I think you'll get a feel for what really happened here, but there are no answers in there, at least to the questions we've both been asking."
"Like where Devon is?" he asked, slipping the journal into his jacket pocket.
"Exactly," she whispered, as she opened the door and looked inside. Every light was on. Her sister lay huddled beneath a pile of blankets...her head covered with a lavender towel. She was sound asleep and snoring, quite loudly, something that would have horrified her had she known. But she was safe and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.
But she was alone with Zack and her reaction to his presence really terrified her! Locking the door behind her, she called a quick "Good night," over her shoulder and bolted for the back stairs, but he caught her in two strides and spun her around.
His dark eyes bored into her's and she felt a strange melting sensation in her knees. His hands gripped both her shoulders tightly and she could feel his heat scorch her bare skin. He gave her a shake, a hard shake, then told her, "I don't know what's going on here. The only person that ties all this together is supposed to be dead. The train wreck. But nobody checked very deeply into the identity of the man they brought back here. He had Devon's wallet...was the right age, size, and coloring, but his face was mutilated. The family identified him and the police let it go at that, even though they considered him a person of interest in both the murders and disappearance of his sister. You don't think Devon is dead and neither do I. There's a good chance that he was after Rayne the other night and now has Brittany. I want all of you to get the hell out of this place till he's captured or killed."
She smiled then. Someone was actually trying to look after her! "I can't leave here. This house is all we have, but I'll make sure Rayne's out of here in the morning. Meg's another matter. She is a very stubborn woman who has her own ideas about what she wants to do."
"Like her sister," he replied, tracing her full lower lip with one finger. "Then promise me, you won't take any foolish chances. I know you have a gun and I know you can use it. Protect yourselves, but let me handle the rest."
She looked into his dark beguiling eyes and felt a tug of longing work its way through her entire core. At that moment...more than anything...she wanted to pull Zack Mallory into her bedroom and let him do to her everything his eyes promised. But she couldn't...or, rather, wouldn't. She would not allow herself to feel what she was feeling, so she laughed and warned him. "You know that is never going to happen. I'm going to the police station first thing in the morning, after I see Rayne headed for the airport. We could help each other, but don't get in my way."
Twisting free she sped down the stairs. At the bottom she turned and looked back. He stood there looking down at her and she had the strangest feeling he had done that once before...a long time ago.
Meg and Charlie helped Rayne load her bags in the back of her rental. She was headed back to New York and couldn't wait to put as many miles as she could, as fast as she could, between her and Hensley Hell. She was only too aware that the missing girl might have been her and she was more terrified than ever "Mom and Dad are there now...a meeting with his publisher...some TV appearances. I won't tell them about the mess you've gotten yourselves into here. No use scaring them, too. I'm scared enough for the whole Ravynne family!" she told them. After hugging them tightly and making them promise they'd be careful, Rayne slid behind the wheel and drove off.
"This is the earliest I've ever seen her up, " Meg muttered around a yawn.
"Fear can be a powerful motivator," Charlie said with a wry grin. "I love Rayne but a little of our baby sister goes a long way!"
"I'm glad you said that and not me. It sounds more natural coming from your lips."
"Alas! I'm not all sweetness and light like you!" Charlie told her with a laugh. "I wonder where Zack is this morning? I gave him the journal to read. He was probably up all night finishing it."
"I was a little fed up last night with both you and Zack, but I'm over it. So you trust him now? Are you certain he's not Devon?" Meg asked, narrowing her blue eyes as she studied her sister.
"Honestly? He's not who he says he is, but I don't think he's Devon," Charlie replied.
"And you know that how?" Meg asked with a frown.
"Gut instinct, what else?"
"Just make sure you are listening to the right part of your anatomy, if you get my meaning," Meg told her, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She knew she had gone too far, when she saw the look in her sister's eyes. Squealing loudly, she sprinted around the house with Charlie in close pursuit. They were both laughing when they burst through the kitchen door.
"I'll not be askin' what's got you two actin' like four year olds. Breakfast is almost ready. Get your bottoms in the breakfast room. I want to get busy puttin' me kitchen back in order after all the commotion yesterday. Imagine caterers and all! And dancin' on the lawn! Quite a shebang it was!"
"Then you didn't hear what happened afterwards?" Charlie asked.
"I took a wee nip of whiskey and fell asleep like a log. The first night's sleep since your sister was chased up from the lake. I'm not all that sorry to see that one go, beggin your pardon for me sayin' so. That young miss is full of herself and then some. So what happened while I be snug in me bed like a wee tick?"
"A girl seems to have disappeared...one of those with the caterers. Long dark hair...young? You don't remember seeing her about after you went to your apartment, do you? Maybe when you were walking Tavish?"
"He uses his piddle pad 'as seen on TV', when me old legs want to stretch out and not be climbin' the stairs. No, didn't see or hear a thing. After me drink...maybe a mite more than just the one...I was sound asleep. Did you call the coppers?"
"Yes, an officer came out, but said he couldn't do anything for twenty-four hours. Her boyfriend was supposed to meet her near the front gates, but she wasn't there, so he came up here looking for her. We're going to the station after breakfast. I want to know more about what happened here forty years ago. Somehow I think it's all connected," Charlie said, afraid that she might be scaring Annie when that was the last thing she wanted to do.
"Ach! And why is that? That all be a long time ago...the three murders and the disappearance of this Breanna, who no one has ever laid eyes on again. I heard the boy who done it, the twin brother, run off and got himself killed somewhere."
"And who told you that?" Charlie asked in surprise.
"There be gossip aplenty about this place and, with me living here, they want me to know all the nasty bits. The worst is the postmistress. What a tongue that woman has! Could fillet a fish with it...sharp as it tis and all."
"Annie, nobody really knows if he was guilty, but if it was Devon Hensley, he probably murdered his sister as well. We all saw Breanna again, at the séance, whether you want to remember it or not. She can't be a ghost, if she isn't dead," Meg told her, before she realized it was better left unsaid.
Annie crossed herself and muttered something under her breath. "Saints presarve us! Don't be mentionin' that again. If I live to be a hundred I'll never be a able to wipe that from me mind, though not from lack of tryin'." And with that she stormed from the room.
"Well, it's back to keeping Annie in the dark. Sometimes I wish we could all take that route and pretend nothing happened. Sometimes I feel it's all my fault," Meg said with a long sigh.
"Yours? I was the one that wanted to enter the contest. You tried to talk me out of it, remember?"
"I didn't try hard enough...especially when I realized it must be haunted. I'm a ghost magnet. Among other things, none of which are good. I must have summoned up Breanna and Old Thumper. I don't mind if Breanna wants to hang around. I like her and her cat, but Old Thumper is evil...really evil. Do you think he could have taken Brittany?" Meg asked, as she nervously worried her lower lip.
"Wouldn't that take more energy than a ghost would have? Meg, look at me," she said, "whatever is unfolding here is destiny at work. We would never have won that contest if we weren't meant to. You...me...Breanna...even Devon and Old Thumper are caught up in something we have no control over."
"You believe that don't you? You really aren't just trying to make me feel better?" Meg asked, hopefully.
"That's the funny part. Pragmatic, feet on the ground, Charlie Ravynne really does believe it. And nobody could be more surprised than she!" Charlie told her, as she drew her into a hug.
Charlie parked her pick up truck in front of the brick two-storied police station, then turned to her sister. "Look, Meg. This may be a complete waste of time. I'm not even sure what we'll be looking for."
"And you can bet the police won't be too happy with us poking around," Meg added. "But that's not going to stop us, is it?" Charlie smiled and didn't bother to answer what she knew was a rhetorical question.
They climbed the cement steps and pushed through the door. It was quieter than they expected, the only sound, other than a fan whirling above their heads, was the moan from an elderly lady sitting on a bench that hugged one wall. A too thin, sandy haired officer, sitting behind a glassed in counter, looked up as they entered. His name tag read: Sgt. Muggins. He smiled when he said, "I don't think you need to tell me who you are or what you want. The Chief's been expecting you. Millie!" he called to the woman pecking away at her keyboard behind him. "Take these ladies to the Chief. And better bring him another cup of coffee. Looks like he might need it."
They followed the older woman who greeted them with a sour look and a curt "This way!" Behind them they could hear Sgt. Muggins say,"Your husband will be here for you soon."
Millie snorted, "Third time this week she's run off...he needs to put her away some place if you want my opinion."
Neither sister did. At the end of a short, dark hall Millie knocked once and opened a door. The name stenciled on the frosted glass front read: Chief Beasely. He unfolded his long frame from behind his desk and gestured to the two chairs in front of it.
He was still a handsome man with thick iron-gray hair and steely eyes that looked them over carefully, as he said, "Have a seat ladies. Charlotte and Margaret Ravynne. I've been expecting you."
"So we've been told," Charlie said, returned his gaze with a narrow-eyed one of her own. "And you know why we're here, supposedly, but perhaps not entirely."
"Coffee? No? Millie, bring me one. And no calls unless it's important," he ordered, settling back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head. " Before you begin, I read the night log, so I know what happened at your place. The parents called in after that. Brittany Nelson does seem to be missing. And we're going to be doing what we can to find her, as soon as we figure out if she's a runaway. Not the happiest family life from what I hear and, in a town this size, you hear most everything. Got some feelers out...making some calls...checking with her friends. I'm expecting to hear any minute she stayed overnight with some girl friend. Now suppose you tell me what more I should be doing, since I'm sure as hell certain that's exactly what you're doing here so bright and early."
"You weren't at the Open House last night. I know Rayne invited you," Charlie said.
"My wife wanted to come, but quite frankly I don't especially like rubbing elbows unless it's an election year, which it isn't. Your ball, Miss Ravynne, you were going to tell me exactly why you're here?"
"I think there's a connection between Brittany's disappearance and what happened in this town forty years ago," she told him evenly.
"You can't be even a little bit serious. The Stoneman murders! That case was closed when they brought Devon Hensley's body back. I was there when all that went down...just a rookie...but I remember it all too well. Devon Hensley was responsible for the murder of three women, and his sister though, we never did find her body."
"How do you know it was Devon?"
"To be honest, he wasn't our first suspect. When Mary Watson was killed, we looked at strangers in town. No one else had a motive. She was a nice girl everybody liked. Then two weeks later, Bea Kingsley was found dead and the autopsy report said she was pregnant...four months along and we started looking at her boyfriend.
"I knew Jeremy Johns, he was a few years older than me, way too old for a 17 year old school girl. He was in trouble most of his life with a long record of petty thefts...fights. The older he got, the meaner he got. I wouldn't have put much past him."
"He was a 'bad boy'. Some girls can't seem to resist them...think they can change them," Meg found herself murmuring.
Charlie shot her an understanding smile. "You were saying, Chief Beasely?"
"My chief pinned the murders on him, claimed he had killed and raped Bea to get rid of her and the baby, had killed and raped Mary before that to throw us off the track. Used her as a red herring. But by the time we made the arrest, he had hanged himself from Fife bridge not more than ten feet from where they'd found Bea's body. That was before the third girl was killed, so we started looking again for the killer."
"That's when you decided on Devon. Did you check out the 'strangers' in town?" Charlie asked.
"No one was here during all three killings, and then Breanna up and disappeared, right after the third girl went missing. Devon was the most likely."
"Because? What would his motive be? From what we heard he loved his sister," Meg interrupted.
"The hired help talk. Even the ones paid enough not to. Small town, remember? It seems he 'loved' his sister way too much. That's why he was sent to military school. Got kicked out of there for pushing some kid down the stairs. And there were other things rumored about him that no one ever followed through on mostly because the Hensleys were very important people back then. His father...I remember him well....big man, .powerful, always carried his father's cane....or was it his grandfather's? Pretty thing...ebony with a silver handle."
"And Devon wasn't like his father, was he?" Charlie asked.
"He was a runt. Never interested in sports. Stuck to himself or his sister. Either had his nose in a book or was out collecting things...butterflies...or something. A weird kid and he grew up even weirder."
Charlie threw him her frostiest smile. "You still haven't answered my sister. Why would he harm those girls, or his sister?"
"He was reportedly jealous of anyone who had her attention. Hated her having friends from school. Every girl who was killed was a friend of Breanna's and .had been to Hensley Hall on several occasions. According to our sources, he had attacked one of her friends previously."
"As a child. Pushed her in a rose bush. Rather a far cry from raping and killing, wouldn't you agree?" Charlie asked, wondering why she was defending him. Maybe, because no one else ever had? Except for Meg.
Chief Beasely ran his fingers through his hair and tilted back in his chair. "It seems you don't think he was guilty and I can't help but wonder why. Not that it matters, since he's been dead and buried in the family mausoleum for nearly forty years. Killed in a train wreck three years after he ran away just before we were going to arrest him. Why would he have run off like that, if he was innocent?"
"In the atmosphere you described? A 'weird kid' without a friend in the world? I would have run. I would have run years before!" Charlie said tightly.
"No, you wouldn't!" Meg muttered. "You would have fought them all till you died trying."
Charlie shot her sister a wry smile and continued, "What if the man buried in the family crypt isn't Devon? What if Devon is alive and back here for some reason?"
"You've just been defending his ass and now you tell me he's back here and up to his old habits. I don't get you, Miss Ravynne. I don't get you at all!"
Charlie wasn't sure she did either. "We'd like to see everything you have on the cases...forensic evidence...anything at all."
The Chief looked at her for a long moment. "When you two ladies won the contest, I checked you out at the mayor's request. Margaret, goes by Meg, took back her maiden name after her recent divorce...no kids...no credit rating...no warrants or arrests. And then there's you, Charlotte Ravynne,...author...world traveler and 'bam!' I ran into a brick wall. There's a whole lot about you someone doesn't want me to know and that kind of thing makes me nervous."
"Maybe 'nervous' is better than what you could be feeling," Charlie told him silkily. "I really hate repeating myself. I want to see everything you have."
"And if I said 'no' I'd be getting one of those phone calls they got when your sister was arrested? So go ahead. If you find anything I might consider useful, you will share it with me? Millie!" he shouted. The door popped open immediately and both sisters know Millie had had 'her ear to the keyhole'. "Take these ladies to the conference room and bring them whatever they ask for. I don't want to be bothered again unless we hear something about Brittany. Good day ladies. It's been...."
"A real pleasure. We know. And thanks for all your cooperation," Charlie told him with a smile.
\*\*\*
Calling it a 'conference room' was rather a stretch for the fold out table and six metal chairs. Millie brought in the boxes on a cart and began piling them in front of the sisters. There were three in all, each labeled with one of the murder victims name. "Before we get started, Meg, could you please call and check on Annie and Freddie. I really didn't like leaving them alone, but she wouldn't go with us and we couldn't very well drag her here."
"I'd have liked to see us try! I want to know what he meant back there, when he said those things about you. Why do I have the feeling that there's a whole chunk of your life you haven't shared with me?" Meg asked, after she opened the door and checked to make sure Millie wasn't outside.
"Because there is. And that's the way it will have to stay."
"You don't trust me?" Meg asked, her eyes widening with a mixture of hurt and surprise.
"Stop! I trust you and I love you, but there are things in my past that are best left there. Now about that phone call?"
While Meg called home, Charlie opened the first box and pulled out the stack of manila files and a collection of sealed plastic bags all labeled and dated. She opened the first file and read through it. Mary Agnes Watson...female Caucasian...age sixteen. She picked up a photo of a dark haired girl in a navy blue school uniform. She did look like Breanna and Rayne.
Continuing to read, she learned that Mary Watson had disappeared from a burger shack that had been a popular hang out for her crowd. She had last been seen headed to the parking lot, where she'd left her mother's car. She turned up dead three weeks later. Some kids found her lying on the grass next to a swing set. She was nude...washed clean...her clothes folded and piled neatly on her chest.
Charlie picked up the photo from the crime scene. Mary's hair had been combed out around her head like a dark halo...her arms were spread upward like wings and her ankles were close together.
More photos...close ups this time . Mary's face was as white as marble...her eyelids and mouth neatly taped shut. Charlie shuddered reflexively. She had never ceased being amazed at the horrors humans beings were capable of doing to each other.
She lifted the bag with Mary's clothes. Mini-skirt, blouse, boots, panties, bra....the typical clothes of a normal teenager from that period. She had put these on and went to meet her friends, never dreaming what was waiting for her. Charlie shook her head. Getting maudlin wasn't helping. She picked up the small bag with a rock inside. It was black, smooth and oval. A river rock. It had been found taped inside Mary's mouth.
She picked up the coroner's report. Body lividity indicated she was killed elsewhere, then moved to the playground. She was dehydrated and malnourished. And she had been raped, repeatedly and brutally. Her body was covered with contusions....especially her thighs and breasts. There were numerous vaginal tears and her uterus had been crushed. An instrument had been used. There was no indication that human contact had been involved, though, it was impossible to be sure. There was no semen found, but, at some point, a condom could have been used. Based on the tissue damage, the rock had been taped in her mouth prior to death. She had been killed by a single thrust through her sternum into the right ventricle of her heart. The murder weapon had been a long narrow blade that had pierced through the body and into a wooden surface. Wood fragments were found in the exit wound in her back, etc....etc. There were statements from the boys who found her...from friends and neighbors. All the usual stuff.
Charlie didn't notice when Meg joined her and began to read over her shoulder...didn't notice when she moved away and crossed to the window. Looking up, she saw her there and knew she was crying.
She went to her and gathered her in her arms. She wanted to cry, too. "Meg, why don't you check on Annie again and get some fresh air. I'll finish up in here."
Meg looked at her with her heart in her eyes, then nodded her head and fled the room. Charlie sat back down and opened the second box. Beatrice 'Bea' Kingsley...female Caucasian...seventeen years old. There was a school photo of her, too. Same dark hair. This one, according to the autopsy report, was four months pregnant. Jeremy's baby. The one he didn't want. She had been found floating in the river, one foot tied to a tree root. Her eyes and lips had been taped shut. A rock was inside her mouth...a river rock almost identical to the other one.
It was the same MO right down the line, she thought. Bea had also been raped by 'a similar instrument' and stabbed through the heart. Wood fragments were again found in the wound. They were an exact match to those found in Mary's back. Her clothes had been folded neatly and placed on the bridge...the one Jeremy had hanged himself from. Maybe he didn't kill himself, Charlie found herself wondering? From what the chief had told them, he didn't seem the sentimental type. She read through his interview. Jeremy wasn't smart enough to think ahead...to plan Mary Watson's murder. He wouldn't have known what a red herring was if it bit him!
She stood...stretched and walked to the window. Meg sat on a bench below letting the sunlight seep into her soul. Her sister was an empath. She felt everyone's pain, sometimes more deeply than they did themselves. She'd have to be careful with Meg. She'd suffered enough already.
Sighing, she returned to the third box. Her name had been Terri Drake. Same school photo. Another Breanna look alike, though her hair was dark brown instead of black. She was found three days after she disappeared, while waiting for her parents to pick her up after a teen social at her church. Unlike the others, her body had not been arranged...not carefully cleaned, or her eyes and mouth taped shut.
She had been dumped along a back road. There was vomit in her hair that 'did not match her stomach contents', in short there was a wealth of DNA evidence, but, of course, no one had heard of DNA evidence back then. They did manage a blood type...'O positive'...the most common of all. There was no evidence of vaginal penetration, as in the other victims, but she had been killed with a 'similar instrument'.
Charlie had had enough. She closed the box and shoved it aside. Why wasn't the last victim raped and why was she disposed of so quickly? The cops hadn't found anything to connect Devon to any of the crimes and yet they had been ready to arrest him because he was the 'weird duck' with a tainted reputation. And convenient. Maybe it had been an "election year"!
She sighed and left the room. She needed to find Meg. Sometimes just being with her sister helped heal her own heart.
Meg was waiting for her and patted the bench next to her. "I just called Annie again and everything's fine. She was a little miffed at being disturbed.. She told me to 'quit pesterin' her. Are you okay? You look kind of awful."
"That's pretty much how I feel. Three young lives full of promise and then...." She let her voice trail off.
Meg looked at her with her heart in her eyes. "Tell me about it, Charlie. I know I ran out on you up there, but I can't not be a part of this. Especially when I see you hurting. What did you find out?"
So Charlie told her. When she had finished she asked," Do you think Devon could have done all that?"
Meg replied quietly, "Not Breanna's Devon, but Nell's? What do you think?"
"Who have we encountered with that much evil in him?"
"That's easy! Old Thumper. He is a seething ball of hate and anger and lust!" Meg replied.
"That's right. He wanted his daughter, sexually, visited her room night after night, but didn't rape her. Maybe, he couldn't bring himself to commit the final act. So he used the other girls, the look alikes, and stalked, raped then killed them," Charlie told her.
Meg shuddered reflexively. "You saw him, or what's left of him, he would be capable of all that!"
"But why use an 'instrument' to rape them? And then there's Brittany. How could a spirit carry her off?" Charlie asked.
"I don't know. It seems impossible. Do you still think Devon is back and involved in all of this?"
"Yes. And if I knew why I know that, you'd be the first to hear it!" Charlie replied grimly.
\*\*\*
On the way back home they talked about what Charlie had read and seen.
"Why did Old Thumper tape their mouths and eyes shut? And neatly, too. And why the stone?" Meg asked, as she chewed one nail thoughtfully.
Charlie pulled her hand away from her mouth and said, "Stop that! You only do that when you're worried and always complain I let you do it afterwards. There seemed to be something very ritualistic about the killings...those that weren't interrupted. Maybe the stone...the taped mouth and eyes... were symbolic somehow?"
"I only do it when I'm thinking really hard. Maybe he was afraid the dead could speak so he weighted down their tongues?"
"And the eyes?" Charlie asked.
"Maybe he thought they couldn't find him if they couldn't see him. Maybe he was afraid of the dead...of their power to reach him beyond the grave. Didn't they put salt in a zombie's mouth and stitch it shut. I read that somewhere. Or imagined it," Meg said.
"Devon is involved in all this. And he is somewhere close by. I can feel it!" Charlie said emphatically.
"But who? Adrian who hasn't been seen since the Open House? Or Zack?"
"Not Zack!"
"And why not Zack?" Meg asked. "We already covered the supposed age discrepancy."
"For one thing, he's too tall. Devon was a 'runt', remember?"
"He was only seventeen when he left home. He could have had a growth spurt. You just don't want it to be Zack!" Meg accused.
Charlie looked at her sister and laughed. "Apparently, nail biting does stimulate your neurons, Meg. You're right. I don't want it to be Zack and for a very good reason!"
"Which is?"
"If I think of it, I'll let you know!" Charlie told her with an enigmatic smile.
It was late by the time they drove through the gates and made their way up the twisty drive. Annie had the lights on and Charlie pulled up close to the kitchen door. Freddie greeted them like they'd been gone a month. But Annie was sitting at the table cradling a cup of tea in both hands. She looked bone tired. "Bout time you two got yourselves back here. Don't want you out runnin' around after dark with all this goin' on. Been listening to the news and the wee lass is still missin'. Not a clue. Your dinner be in the oven, leftovers from yesterday, but with a pinch of this and that, it should do you."
Meg gave Annie a hug, "Thanks for looking after Freddie. I hope he wasn't too much of a nuisance? Especially with the police out here looking around."
"Haven't seen nary a one. As to Freddie, he wasn't a bit of trouble. We had us a walk maybe a half hour ago. Would have brought Tavish along, but he be too old to put up with a spry pup like yours. Would you be mindin', if I go back to me own place and leave the dishes. I have a bit of a headache and me stomach has been all aflutter this day. Too much goin' on for an old woman like me."
Both sisters were instantly concerned. Annie was never sick. "Please, go right home and rest up. Can we get anything for you?" Meg asked in alarm.
"Just don't be leavin' me kitchen in a mess. Now it's off I go before it be gettin' too dark and I fall over me own big feet and break me hip."
"Do you want us to walk Tavish for you?" Charlie asked.
"He can piddle on his pad. But thank you both and lock everything up tight. I don't want no murderin' kidnappers cartin' you two off."
\*\*\*
Sometime later, after securing every door and window and leaving lights burning in most of the downstairs' rooms, the sisters climbed the back stairs with Freddie clattering on ahead of them. "You're welcome to spend the night with me," Charlie told Meg.
"I want to spend the night alone. I think...hope really more than anything...that Breanna will try and contact me. Maybe she knows where Brittany is," Meg said with the brightest smile she could manage, which wasn't much.
Charlie took the hand with the now ragged fingernails and dropped it with a sigh. "If you hear Old Thumper, promise me you'll come running. My door is never locked."
After Meg promised, they said their 'good nights' and went their separate ways. Charlie took up a vigil by the window, watching the yard. The moon had slipped behind a thick layer of clouds and it was quite dark. Too dark to see much of anything. She turned to her other senses and listened to the night sounds, waiting for one that didn't belong, or a cessation of those that did. Then the hair along the back of her neck rose and she knew someone was out there. If it didn't mean leaving Meg unprotected, she would go down there and have a look around.
Not that that would be too smart, but she'd been not 'too smart' before in her life and was tottering on the verge again. Zack. She must trust him, or she wouldn't have given him Breanna's journal. But what did she know about him? Precious little! And quite probably none of it was true. But from somewhere...some place...she knew him. It teased along the edges of her awareness and she let her mind wrestle with it, as she continued her vigil.
Meanwhile, Meg lay stretched out on her bed with Freddie snuggled beside her. "Breanna! I really need your help here! There's a girl missing again...young like you. In fact, she looks like you. Her name is Brittany and I think you may know where she is. Maybe Devon is involved., and your father, though I don't know how."
Freddie whined, circled three times, and burrowed under the blanket, clearly annoyed at all the noise. Meg watched the shadows drift from the corners. The sheer drapes blew inward on an errant breeze...ghostly. She shivered. Was the temperature dropping, or was it only her imagination? She yawned and watched the shadows on the ceiling. One looked like a little black cat. Where was Cloud these days? She wasn't aware she was falling asleep. And then she did.
She awoke, shivering with cold, and felt an electric current crawling just under her skin. It wasn't a pleasant feeling! Was this supposed to happen when a spirit manifested, she wondered sleepily? It never had before. She looked around and saw Breanna, standing by the window looking out into the night.
"Breanna," Meg called, "are you looking for Devon? Please tell me where he is? And Brittany, the girl I told you about if you were listening, which you might not have been, so I'll tell you again. There's a girl, who looks like you, who has gone missing. She seems to have vanished from here last night and no one knows where she is. Can you help us find her?"
Breanna seemed to shrink and swell...shrink and swell... until she settled on the 'swell' part. Like steam from a teakettle she drifted across the floor until she was hovering at the foot of Meg's bed. She glowed a sickly green like the phosphorescent dial on an alarm clock. Her eyes were enormous....her mouth contorted with pain and there was a jagged wound in the left side of her head. She was wearing the white dress from the portrait and it was streaked with rusty brown stains that Meg feared was blood. All in all, beautiful Breanna was a horrific sight!
Meg pulled the covers over her head and counted to ten, then took a peek. Breanna was still there, only now, she was hovering directly over her with one long pointy finger just inches from her nose. "Devon!" she began to wail, starting at a low pitch and rising quickly, till Meg was forced to protect her ears with both hands.
"Devon. What about Devon?" Meg prompted, watching her frozen breath waft upward, wishing fervently that Breanna wouldn't float so close. She was beyond cold and, from the whining and digging Freddie was doing, he was in danger of being a pupsicle at any moment!
"He needs help...needs you!" Breanna told her hollowly, then began to dematerialize until she was nothing more than a puff of greenish smoke that passed through the ceiling.
"Hey! Come back here! How? Why? Where? I need answers to those questions," Meg called after her.
Charlie burst into the room. "I could hear you hollering through the wall! It's cold as death in here! She's been here, right?"
"Cold as death is right! She was here and she was kinda scary. Had a head wound...blood...not something I want to see again, but I'm sure she showed us that for a reason. She said Devon needs help. That he needs me," Meg told her tremulously. "But she didn't tell me how I could help. He's close by and he must be in danger. Oh, Charlie! What do we do now?"
"You had to ask me that? For now, you and Freddie are coming with me. We need some sleep and you're not going to get it in here."
"I have a bad, bad feeling...." Meg began.
Charlie rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Meg!"
"Shutting up, Charlie!" she said with a long sigh.
\*\*\*
Brittany tried to open her eyes but couldn't...nor move her hands or feet. Her head pounded viciously and she found it hard to breathe around whatever was stuffed in her mouth. "Dear, God," she prayed desperately, "please, please, help me!" She squirmed and tugged at her bonds, but it was useless. She could smell damp earth and mold. It was cold so very cold!
A hand stroked along her bare leg, up from her toes to her knee then along her inner thigh. She tried to scream, but the noises she made only seemed to amuse her tormenter. He was laughing. A hand found her breast. "You are so beautiful, even now, Breanna," a voice whispered close to her ear. She moaned and her tears tried to find a way past whatever covered her eyes. Silently, she begged again, please ,please please....
"You want this, you know you do. Let me show you how much your father loves you."
\*\*\*
The next morning, Charlie and Meg found a note taped to the stove. It read: Touch of the flu...will be in me place if you can't be sparing me for a single day. I'll be right as rain by tomorrow. It was needlessly signed "Annie".
Meg smiled. "Now I can show you what Annie's been teaching me!"
Charlie sighed. "Can't wait."
"Stop already. I'm pretty good, though I still consider 'cooking' more of a necessary evil than anything else," Meg reassured her.
"Great! I'll make us some coffee. I need it badly! Then I'll set the table out here. We don't have to be the 'fine ladies of the house' this morning."
"Okay by me. We'll have...I know....pancakes. Blueberry pancakes if we have any blueberries, which I don't know. And bacon....lots of bacon and fresh squeezed orange juice if we have any...."
"Oranges. Suppose we both get started," Charlie said. "And we have to be careful we don't disturb anything, or Annie will have both our heads."
Meg hummed, as she began to search for what she'd need. Which was just another indication of her resilience and strength, Charlie thought, as she watched her sister break eggs into a stainless steel bowl. "I hope you appreciate I'm making these from scratch," Meg told her in mid hum.
They had just settled down to breakfast, when they heard footsteps coming down the hall and the swing door opened. It was Zack, looking a bit sleep tousled. He stood just inside the door taking in the scene. "Where's, Annie?"
"Under the weather this morning...nothing serious she says," Meg told him.
"I didn't know either of you could cook," he told them, sniffing the air suspiciously. "And it actually smells rather good."
"We can, at least Meg can. She's been taking lessons. Want to share? It's part of the deal that you've never taken us up on. In fact, I hear several of the waitresses at the 'Coffee Pot Cafe' in town are madly in love with you," Charlie said with a smile she managed to conjure up from somewhere, though her heart had just turned over twice. He had way too much power over her and it scared her to death.
"I have to fight them off every morning. And, Meg, I'd love whatever you have ready."
Meg smiled in reply. "Have to pour a few more. How many?"
"Maybe three? And some bacon from that mound I see on the counter? But coffee first! Black please."
"I'll get the coffee, Meg," Charlie said, gesturing to Zack to grab a seat. He took the chair next to the one she just vacated. Returning with another plate, cup and silverware, she spread them in front of him and went for the coffee pot. There wasn't a moment she didn't feel the heat from his eyes and she found herself growing uncomfortably warm.
As she poured his coffee, he brushed against her arm and she felt a tingling awareness that was even more unsettling. She made a point of relocating her chair several inches away from his, before she sat down.
Meg carried a stack of pancakes to the table. "Help yourself," she told Zack. "We don't stand on ceremony around this house."
"So I noticed," he murmured, as he loaded his plate.
"I wonder why the police haven't been crawling all over this place? Annie told us nobody's been out here," Charlie said, as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.
Zack answered her question. "It seems Brittany's cell phone was found about half a mile up the road, so the cops think she had given up on Jayson and was walking towards town, when she was taken. They still haven't ruled out the 'runaway' angle though, but at least they are considering that there may be more to her disappearance than that. They think she may have hitchhiked and been picked up by a stranger."
"The stranger in town thing," Charlie mumbled to herself.
Zack raised one black brow, "What in the hell does that mean?"
"That's what the cops thought when Mary Watson and Bea Kingsley were kidnapped and killed, then they pinned it on Jeremy Johns. When there was a third murder, after he committed suicide, they blamed Devon Hensley."
"The Devon we think is still alive."
"Exactly, though neither Meg nor I think he committed the murders. We do think his father was capable of it and that Devon may have been involved in some way, but we don't believe he could have committed those atrocities."
"Remember Tommy the stableboy nanny Nell told us about?" he reminded her.
"It was Timmy and we don't know that it wasn't an accident. And I'm not convinced Brittany wasn't taken from down by the gates, where she was supposed to wait for Jayson. I'm going to go down there now and check around."
"Mind if I tag along? I seem to be caught up in this as much as you two are for several reasons."
"Which you won't divulge," Charlie said. "Meg, you need to come with us. I don't want you here all by yourself."
"Nonsense. Snooping around is your thing. Besides, someone has to clean up Annie's kitchen and I'm the only on who has even an inkling of where everything belongs."
Charlie shot her a sharp look and left the room, leaving Zack and Meg staring after her in surprise. She returned moments later, carrying her gun. She handed it to her sister and asked, "Do you remember how to use this?"
Meg grimaced and replied. "You taught me at the gun range. Told me I might need to know how to protect myself, if you couldn't. How could I forget? But I don't like guns and wish you would keep it with you."
Charlie gritted her teeth and counted to five, before she replied. "We are not going to discuss this now. You will keep this gun with you at all times when I am not with you. You are not to leave this house until we get back. If you do not do exactly what I have just told you, I will kill you, Meg, with my own two hands."
"At least it won't be with a gun!" Meg told her with a touch of petulance, returning her glare with one of her own. "I am not your child! I am an adult! Freddie and I will stay here and we will keep your gun close by, but only 'cause I want to...not because you've ordered me to!"
Charlie knew it was hopeless to argue further. She could only trust her sister would be sensible enough to do what she'd ordered?
Maybe she was being too heavy handed with her, but now wasn't the time to examine that. She always only meant for her own good and surely she realized that by now?
When she would have said something more to Meg, Zack grabbed her elbow and steered her towards the door. Outside, she heard the door lock click behind them and smiled. Zack shot a glance at her and caught her smile. "You're riding her too hard. She's all grown up and doesn't like...."
"Being bossed around. I know. I just can't seem to help it. I've always had to rescue one member of my family, after another, from some disaster and being 'bossy' just seems to be part of the deal," she told him irritably, as she headed down the drive.
"Maybe you try too hard. Who takes care of you?" he asked, falling in step next to her.
Charlie stopped and looked at him. A light breeze tugged at his hair...his eyes were dark and unreadable...while his mouth wore that beguiling smile that made her pulse quicken. "No one. I don't need, or want, anyone to take care of me!" she lied, hoping vehemence would lend credence to her words.
He cupped her chin with one hand and leaned in closer...too close. She wanted to slap his hand away, but she didn't. Instead, she held her breath as he leaned closer still. His lips brushed hers. A feather touch that promised much. She shivered reflexively and would have pulled him even closer, but he moved away with a low laugh. Her eyes were full of her bewilderment, as she looked into his. "Still don't remember me, do you?" he asked, then moved on ahead, calling over his shoulder, "Coming"
She shook off the tumult of sensation he had aroused as best she could and caught up with him in three long strides. "Wait a minute. What did you mean back there?"
"You're the one that likes to 'snoop' according to your very own sister. Meanwhile shall we do what we came out here to do?"
Angry now, Charlie brushed past him and almost ran towards the front gates, stopping less than thirty feet from the end of the drive, where a marble bench nestled in a screen of rhododendron bushes. "I'd be willing to bet that was where she waited for her boyfriend," Zack told her, when he reached her side.
"Perfect place to see what's coming and going without being seen," she murmured frostily. "I'm going to snoop around, if you don't mind!"
He smiled to himself, hoping she wouldn't notice. She clearly wasn't in any mood for levity. Charlie made the first find. "Look...a freshly broken twig and too high up to be some animal."
"And over here," he called. "The leaves have been disturbed. The top ones are still too moist."
She bent down next to him, as he carefully turned over the leaves. He picked up one and showed it to her. "What does that look like?"
"Looks like dried blood to me. This was where Brittany was taken and not without a struggle of some kind," she replied.
"Yep, we need to get the cops out here. Chief Beasly needs some serious redirecting," he told her.
"He's not going to believe anything I tell him. Would you, if you hadn't been to Meg's séance and saw what you saw?" Charlie asked, refusing to look at him directly.
"Probably not. He'll insist on the 'stranger in town' theory like before," Zack replied, his fingers aching to brush back a stray tendril of silvery blonde hair that threatened to poke her in the eye. And then he did.
She jumped back, and, reflexively, smacked at his offending hand. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"You were in danger of losing your sight in one eye. They are beautiful eyes. A matched set and they should stay that way," he told her with a smile lifting one corner of his sensual mouth.
"Don't be ridiculous. We're here investigating a crime scene. I'm not playing whatever game you're playing and, I might add, not playing very well," she scolded as primly as her mother ever had. "Whoever did this must have known she was here. Followed her from the party? I don't think it was just a chance meeting."
His smile deepened, then vanished. "Or Jayson told one of his friends, who beat him to her. The cops need to ask him that. Find out who knew she'd be waiting here all alone in the dark."
"Adrian left early after a fight with Rayne," Charlie told him with a thoughtful frown.
"The very same Adrian, who was with her the night she was chased through the woods."
"The very same. Maybe we need to find out where he is?" she asked.
"Sounds like a bug we could safely put in the Chief's ear. Let him poke around and see if he's holed up in town somewhere," he told her.
"Zack, do you believe in destiny...fate...whatever you want to call it?" she found herself asking.
He looked at her for a long moment, then replied, "I can't be standing here next to you and not be a believer."
"What does that mean, Zack? Then, again, maybe I don't want you to answer that. You've been a problem since I first laid eyes on you."
He moved closer and she took a step back. "Maybe I should tell you," he mused. "I was hoping you'd find me as unforgettable, as I found you, but under the circumstances maybe that's asking way too much. But now isn't the time and this isn't the place. Or is it?"
She swallowed hard. What would she be getting herself into, if she allowed him to cross the line and tell her who he really was...how she knew him...and why she shouldn't have forgotten him? And was all that even something she wanted to know? Probably not. Why stir things up, when she had thought herself safely settled? So, she changed the subject. "You do believe in ghosts now....I mean really believe? You don't still think Meg's séance was a lot of hocus pocus on our part, do you?"
He laughed then. "Yes, I do believe in ghosts, though I never in a zillion years thought I would. Besides the séance, I've heard plenty of rustlings, whispers, singing, laughter and God knows what else, since I've been here. And there's a big fluffy invisible cat that's been sharing my bed."
"So Cloud's been visiting you, too! Why am I not surprised. He seems to be making the rounds. Anyway, bottom line, Meg and I think Devon is probably staying in town. Who'd recognize him after forty years? And we think Old Thumper, the evil spirit Meg conjured up, .is involved somehow in Brittany's disappearance. That the past is repeating itself for some reason. We don't think it was Devon who killed those girls. We think it was his father. You read Breanna's journal, which I would appreciate back by the way, what do you think?"
"Devon's love for Breanna was obsessive...possessive, but a killer? I don't know, as I said earlier, there's Tommy's death to consider."
"Timmy," she corrected automatically. "A spirit can't carry off a grown girl, wouldn't have the energy for it, or at least that's what we think. Devon is capable of doing that for his father."
"Because? He hated his father, remember?"
"Yes, hated him and feared him with good reason. What if his father is possessing him? Making him do his bidding? You saw that thing at the séance. That was a very powerful force and I for one would not like to be its prey!"
Zack raked his hand through his dark hair distractedly, then said, "You've got me pretty much convinced, but how in the hell are you going to convince Chief Beasely that a ghost is behind this disappearance?"
"Or that Devon is still alive for that matter. Let's get back to the house and give him a call. After that?"
"Yeah! After that we will do what we can to convince a hard headed cop what even we find difficult to believe."
Meg stuck her tongue out, as she locked the door behind her sister. If she was going to be treated like some child she might as well act like one. "I don't like being ordered about. Who does?" she asked Freddie, who was more interested in the scraps she was piling in his dish. "What do you think? Not talking, huh. Hey! I think we have enough leftovers here to make a nice breakfast for Annie. She's always waiting on us, maybe she'd like someone to wait on her for a change?" Freddie woofed once, as he worriedly watched her load the bacon and pancakes he'd been anticipating onto a plate and pop it in the microwave.
A few minutes later, she unlocked the door and looked around. Just the usual bird sounds...nothing alarming...but she felt guilty as she stepped outside. Freddie tried to go with her, but she nudged him back inside, telling him, "You stay here and be the watch dog I know you can be if given the chance. Tavish is too old for your shenanigans and Annie doesn't need to be upset.
She closed the door firmly and slipped through the kitchen garden and past the big brass sundial. Off in the distance, she could hear Charlie and Zack arguing or what sounded like arguing. There was definitely something going on between those two, but she didn't know just what. She hadn't had enough time to pry it out of her yet, but she would as soon as things settled down a bit.
Right now they were still down at the end of the drive and, if she hurried, she could beat them back and not have to endure another one of Charlie's penetrating glares. She was never just mad. It was always, "I'm disappointed in you", which was worse than a good old fashioned hissy fit.
Balancing Annie's breakfast carefully, she sprinted across the open area and into the shadows, then up the stairs to Annie's apartment. She could hear Tavish whine on the other side of the door. "Annie!" she called, knocking at the same time. There was no answer so she called and knocked even louder. "Annie, it's just me! I've made breakfast for you. Your recipe. Please let me in. I'm beginning to get really worried about you!"
She was about to leave, when she heard "Tis open. Come on in, if you must."
She opened the door and slipped around Tavish, who wriggled his pudgy brown body in greeting. "Hi, Tavish," she told him patting his white muzzle. "You may be having some of this, if Annie won't eat it. But, to be perfectly honest with you, it won't do your figure any good."
Meg carried the plate to the table and looked around. Neither she nor Charlie had been up here since Annie moved in. It was spotless but surprisingly austere. Somehow she had expected more bric a brac. Pieces of Annie's life...family photos and such. "Annie, are you all right?" she called, looking down the tiny, dark hallway. "Do you mind if I come back and check on you? You might be sicker than you think and need a doctor?"
There was a long silence and then she heard, "Come on back, Meg. I should have known you'd come pesterin' an old woman."
"Well, I won't be but a second and then I'll leave you alone," Meg called as she made her way down the hall and opened the door. The blinds were pulled and the room quite dark, but she could see the mound on the single brass bed. "Honestly, I won't be pestering you long. I just need to make sure you don't have a fever," she said as she crossed to the bed. "Annie?"
The door closed behind her with a solid bang and she whirled to see why. A man was standing there in the shadows, then moved with a cat-like grace across the floor. His salt and pepper hair was clubbed back in a long ponytail and his torso was bare. "If you've hurt Annie I'll...I'll...I don't know what I'll do but you won't like it," Meg told him, balling her hands into fists.
He laughed then and said, "Go see to your Annie, since you're so worried about her."
Afraid to turn her back on him, she edged along the wall and drew back the blankets with a tremulous hand. "Annie?" she began and gasped. Under the blanket was Annie's dress and sensible shoes. Her wire-rimmed glasses lay on the pillow along with two bushy gray eyebrows.
Meg's eyes rounded in horror. "What have you done to her?"
"Perhaps I melted her like the witch in the 'Wizard of Oz', remember?" he told her. Moving to the window, he opened the blinds. "Saints presarve us.would I be harmin' old Annie?" he mimicked in 'Annie's' Irish brogue.
She stared at him in fascination. Fleetingly, she remembered telling Annie that she 'could be pretty'. The man in front of her was all of that! He was beautiful...an older masculine version of Breanna. She was stunned. Of course, he was Devon, who else could he be?
She opened her mouth to scream, but he was too quick for her. Clapping his hand over her mouth, he pushed her onto the bed and threw his weight over her. His face was inches from hers, when he whispered, "I knew you'd come. I counted on your kind heart. Do Charlie and Zack know you are here?"
He took his hand away from her mouth so she could answer. "Yes, I told them I was bringing you...Annie...breakfast," she told him, trying to avoid his eyes.
"You're lying of course. Something you don't do very well. I saw them head down the drive. Where were they going, Meg?"
"To find out what happened to Brittany. What happened to her, Devon? Why the masquerade?" Meg asked. "We trusted you! You were part of our family!"
"Ah, yes! The Ravynne family. I wish, with all that's left of me, that could have been true. But I'm one of the cursed Hensleys...my soul damned forever because of what I've done...what I've become. You are my heart, Meg. I meant that. I lost mine along with my soul years ago."
She looked at him with a mixture of absolute horror and fascination. "The white roses! You are my secret admirer! Then why are you doing this to me? This is sure a funny way to show your admiration. Just let me go and I will find a way to help you. But Brittany needs help first..."
"I'm going to tie you to the bed, but I won't gag you unless I have to. Do you promise not to scream?"
She nodded, but knew she would if the opportunity arose.
"I won't hurt you unless you leave me no other choice, is that understood?"
She nodded again and he drew a coil of nylon rope from the dresser and tied her securely to the brass posts, then drew up a chair next to her. Outside she heard Charlie calling her and groaned. He was too close for her to get away with even making a peep. She looked at him and he smiled...Annie's smile. It was so uncanny, it made her flesh crawl.
He seemed to know what she was thinking. "You're wondering how I got away with it all this time...being Annie. First of all, people tend to see what they want to see. I became what you were expecting, an old Irish cook and housekeeper...an animal lover just like you. I modeled myself after Mrs. Poole our cook here at Hensley Hall. She let me sit in the kitchen with her for hours and taught me a lot about cooking...things that I passed on to you, Meg. If my dialect slipped from time to time, I had hoped you wouldn't notice.
"I was worried I'd have lots of competition for the job, so I used Tavish who's really been my dog for over a year."
Meg gasped, "Used Tavish? What did you do to him?"
He smiled. "I saw you at the Town Hall, when you first came to town. You and Freddie. You brought him water in a Styrofoam cup and took him for a walk behind the bushes. You loved dogs, so I gave Tavish a sleeping pill...had to guess at the dose...and added a bit of fake blood from a novelty shop. The rest you witnessed. I'll bet I was hired before I even drove off."
Meg muttered, "You could have killed him! We fell for it hook line and sinker!"
He smirked and rocked back in his chair, "Of course you did. And all the rest. Tavish was a good excuse to get this apartment, too. Here, I didn't have to be on-stage all the time. I could let the Annie character go and be myself. Wearing all her extra padding is hot and irritating, not to mention her hideous shoes."
"Why did you come back here? I'd have thought this would be the last place you'd want to be. And who's buried in the mausoleum...the Devon look alike?"
"What a stroke of luck that was! He was a stranger on the train I struck up a conversation with. He had no family who would miss him, was headed for a new job, and looked enough like me. I switched wallets after the crash and went on to pick up his life. And 'presto' I was no longer a wanted man. As, to why am I back here? I needed to come home, though that's more of a feeling that a real explanation. Would you believe I entered that damned contest over and over again? And you won! How many times did you enter it?"
Meg muttered, "Just one, actually. It was Charlie's idea."
"I see. Fate. I wanted to come home and I couldn't just appear and claim my inheritance, could I? There is no 'Statute of Limitations on murder. As things were, I was dead and buried in the family crypt, but I wanted...needed to be near Breanna again. She's here somewhere. Father never told me where he buried her. They'll be looking for you, so I haven't got much time
"I'm sorry, Meg, but I know you won't be able to resist calling for help so I have to tape your mouth shut. Don't struggle. I don't want to hurt you any more than necessary."
But she did struggle and tried to scream, but he was fast and he was strong. She was gagged in moments,
\*\*\*
"Meg! Meg! Where are you? Why was the kitchen door unlocked? Please answer me. I'm sorry I was so bossy. Meg, please," Charlie begged, but there was no answer and Charlie felt a coldness nibble its way to her heart.
"You don't think there is any chance she might be hiding...trying to teach you a lesson?" Zack offered, knowing it was more than unlikely.
"Meg would never do such a thing to me. Maybe I do treat her like a child sometimes, but she would never hurt me like that!" she exclaimed vehemently, not wanting to think of the other possibility, which was far too horrific to even consider. She ran then, through the house, flinging open doors, checking every room her sister might be in and a few she wouldn't. Like the cellars. She hated the cellars. Freddie ran with her, barking excitedly, thinking it was all a game of some kind.
Zack searched on his own until he was satisfied she was nowhere in the house. He was waiting for Charlie in the kitchen, when she finally gave up and he pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and allowed herself a moment of comfort, before she said, "I can't imagine she would go outside, but we have to search the grounds. She might be at Annie's. That's the only place I can think of that she might go." Without waiting for him to answer, she pushed free of his arms and was out the kitchen door, running down the drive and calling for Meg as she went. Zack went after her with Freddie close behind.
\*\*\*
Meg heard Charlie and Zack calling her; they were getting much closer. Devon heard them, too, and moved swiftly, twisting his hair back into its familiar bun and pasting on his bushy gray eyebrows, then donning a floor length flannel robe that hid his sudden lack of bulk and the Adam's apple his high necked dresses usually concealed. She watched the transformation in awe. He really was Annie O'Leary! Until that moment she hadn't completely believed it.
He smiled, winked and 'shushed' her with a finger to his lips. Slipping out the bedroom door, he closed it behind him, just in time to answer Charlie's knock. Meg moaned. There was no way her sister could even begin to imagine that she was only a few feet away, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
\*\*\*
Opening the door, Annie looked at Charlie in surprise. "What's goin' on? I heard you hollerin' like the banshee loud enough to wake me from me sleep!"
Vaguely, Charlie registered the thought that Annie didn't look quite like herself. She was pale and drawn...and, well....keyed up, but she had no time for her now. Only Meg! Freddie began barking, excitedly and tried to push past her, but Charlie grabbed his harness and held tight. "Have you seen Meg, Annie? She's missing and I'm frantic with worry!" Charlie's throat tightened in fear. More than anything she dreaded what, somehow, she knew Annie was about to say.
Shaking her head vehemently, Annie's eyes grew wide with horror. "No! Lord knows I wish I could be sayin' otherwise. I'll be gettin' meself dressed and helpin' with the search. I'll not rest quiet till she be found safe and sound, the wee lamb."
Murmuring her thanks, Charlie left and and Devon returned to Meg. He was smiling when he told her, "It seems Charlie and Zack are quite distressed at your disappearance. I don't believe I've ever seen your sister in such a state. I'm going to get dressed and help them with the search, seeing as how I'm so worried about you.
"I want you to lie quietly here and get some sleep. No? I knew you would say that so I have a little something that will ensure you do just that. You can either take the sedative I'm going to give you, or I will have to conk you on the head," he told her in a matter of fact way, as though he was discussing the weather. He peeled off her gag so she could answer him.
"Is there a third choice? I don't want to be conked and I don't want to drink some vile concoction. Can't you just chloroform me like they do in the movies?"
He laughed with real amusement. "What you've seen in the movies and read in books is strictly 'artistic license'. It doesn't work that fast or last that long. So, it's one or the other, Meg. And make it fast. I'll have to stay with you till the sedative works."
"Sedative," she mumbled resignedly, before he regaged her.
He left her and she could hear him stirring about in the bathroom...the opening and closing of drawers...water running...and then he was back. He supported her head and unstuffed her mouth, then held a glass to her lips. "Drink it all, Meg. Remember the alternative." She did as she was bid, because there didn't seem anything else she could do. Devon was a madman...someone you didn't argue with if you wanted to stay alive.
He sat by her side, watching her carefully. Slowly, her eyes lost focus. As though from a great distance, she heard Tavish whine and then she slipped into nothingness.
\*\*\*
Leaving Annie to dress and join them, Charlie looked for Zack and found him looking through the carriage house below. It was filled with bits of old carriages, rusted wheels, mouse chewed buggy seats and cast off furniture from the house that wouldn't fit in the cellar or attic. "Nothing here," Zack told her. "I called Chief Beasely and he is on the way. Let's keep searching the grounds until he gets here." But Charlie was already out the door and headed towards the lake.
The sound of a siren, brought them back to the house. Chief Beasely had brought two deputies with him. A tracker dog was in the back of the second car. "My sister is missing," she told him. "Disappeared from the house. We've been searching for her."
The Chief smiled. "Now calm down, Miss Ravynne. Your sister is just fine. We don't usually have them go missing two at a time around here."
Charlie wanted to fly at him and scratch that irritating smile off his face, but Zack caught the back of her shirt and pulled her to a stop.
"I'll take you to what we found down by the gates. We'll continue to search for Meg. I know you think you have Brittany's disappearance nailed on some stranger who picked her up near town, but it didn't go down that way. And, Meg's disappearance is connected. I suggest you call in whatever you have for a forensic team and get busy. Might as well start by putting that dog of yours, that I presume isn't a mascot, to work. Charlie, get something of Meg's and let's see what the dog can find." Zack said with a calmness he was far from feeling.
Which turned out to be zip. Meg's trail was everywhere just as she had been everywhere, while Brittany's trail led from the bench to the house and stopped. Annie had joined the search. She seemed old and fragile for the first time. "We've got to be findin' her," she told Charlie and Zack. "She be like me own daughter. I couldn't be bearin' it!"
"Zack, what are we forgetting? What is right in front of our eyes and we're not seeing it? I can feel it...something's close. So very close," Charlie said, as they all returned to the house.
He didn't know how to answer her, but he could feel it, too. Something was close...a something very dangerous.
Meg struggled awake. It was dark, her head ached and she wondered where she was. And then she remembered. With Devon. Surprisingly, the tape was off her mouth, and she opened it for her loudest scream ever, when Devon whispered close to her ear. "I wouldn't do that. I could make your time here very unpleasant not to mention what I could put in your precious sister's soup."
He was lying on the bed next to her with his head propped up on one elbow. She could feel the heat from him seeping through the blanket. "You wouldn't!" she told him with an emphatic shake of her head. Which really hurt! She'd have to remember not to do that again.
"You really don't think I would, do you? You don't believe I killed anyone, but I did. We have time for me to tell you exactly the what, how and why, Meg.
"You see, this isn't the first time I've been back home. I came here three years ago. I missed my sister. It was like a hollowness inside my very soul, where she used to be. Amazingly, I still had a soul back then or half a one. I remember being shocked at how the place looked, a tangle of weeds and ruins. I knew they were both still alive...had asked in town...and wondered who would be the one to answer the door. . What would they say when they saw their son after almost forty years? The one they thought was dead.
"She answered the door...mother. She blinked several times and then her mouth twisted in that way she had. She knew me. 'Hello, Mother,' I said, 'will we be having the 'fatted calf' for lunch?' She was unamused, but then I don't remember her ever being otherwise. She would have closed the door in my face, but I pushed past her. Then looked at her. Really looked at her! The fastidious 'Lady of the Manor' was unkempt would be the kindest way to phrase it.
"I found Father in the kitchen asleep at the table. He was an old man...shrunken like a badly washed wool sweater...wizened. His mouth gaped open. A dribble of spit made its way past his loud grunting snores. Lord Hensley, I knew what the servants had called him, a molester of children, murderer of women and father of me.
"I sat next to him and watched a fly crawl across his face. The room grew dark and still I watched. I could have awakened him, but I wanted that moment, between dreams and reality, when he didn't know which one I was.
"Then he stirred and smacked his lips and opened his eyes. They widened and widened and I said, 'Surprise, Father. It's not a nightmare. It's your 'Disappointment' back for a visit."
"That moment wasn't nearly as gratifying, as I had dreamed it would be. I could see a slyness come into his eyes. I asked him then where my sister was. His expression shifted from crafty to terrified...then sad...then angry. It was hard to keep up. Hatred and anger won the battle. He shouted as loud as he could, 'What are doing here? Going to piss your pants again?'
"It seems he never forgot that one time. I would have killed him then, but he hadn't answered me. I needed to know where Breanna was and he was the only one who could tell me. Mother came in then and I watched them whisper together, then I left the kitchen and took the back stairs to my old room.
"It was stripped bare except for my butterfly cases. I loved to collect beautiful things, mostly butterflies and moths. Breanna hated it, but she still went with me at night to stalk the giant silk moths. Have you ever seen a lunar moth, Meg? All pale green, quite large and oh so lovely," he told her as he stroked one finger, softly, along her jaw line.
"I'm not a moth, Devon, please let me go," she begged desperately.
"You'd make a lovely moth, Meg...just lovely," he whispered softly, as his warm breath fanned her cheek.
"Then you'd pin me through my heart and let me mummify in a glass case? Thanks but no thanks!"
"Did you know that my father's cane has a hidden sword? Of course, you didn't know, how could you? He told me he used it to pin his collection through their hearts. Maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Maybe, in my case, it didn't fall at all."
She searched his eyes for mercy and found only a cold detachment, as he continued in a silken whisper, "I was telling you about my room when we got off on a tangent. As I said, it had been purged of any trace of me, but Breanna's room was just as she left it. I pulled off the dustsheet that covered the bed and stretched out. I called to her. Begged her to haunt me. I stayed in her room...hung her portrait over the mantle and waited.
"I would hear him come down the hall some nights...the thump...thump...thump of his cane. No longer an affectation or a conceit. He needed it now. I wanted him to open that door. What a surprise he'd have, I thought. I had taken to wearing Breanna's clothes. Not that they fit. But they made me feel like I was a part of her again. That I was whole!
"I was there nearly a week, when I found him drunk in the kitchen. In the shadows...in her clothes...I must have looked enough like her to make him believe she was back. 'Go away,' he screamed. 'Leave be!' With prompting of one kind or another...I'll spare you the details...I pieced together what had happened to my sister.
"But as a prelude to that, I'll tell you about that last night. We were out together in the moonlight as we often were when we were younger, but that night we were making our final plans to leave forever. I had stolen enough money to get us a start somewhere else, anywhere else, when we saw him cutting through the brush, stealthy as a cat. There had been two girls murdered and another one missing. We knew he was capable of anything. Even that. We followed him to the ruins of the old Brent Farm. We saw him down in the cellar with Terri, Breanna's latest missing friend, but he saw us, too. I shoved Breanna ahead of me and told her to run.
"But he caught me and pulled me down into the cellar. Told me he would make a man of me yet...told me to rape her. I threw up and he hit me with his cane until I lost consciousness. When I came to, the cellar was empty and I went to look for Breanna. I found her locket lying in the dirt, but I never saw her again. Not until the night of your séance, Meg. Which was why I agreed to attend. She hadn't come when I called her, begged her, but she came for you.
"Sitting in the kitchen forty years later, he told me he would never have harmed her, but she ran from him and fell. Hit her head on a rock. He buried her in her white dress...the one he made his victims wear before he raped them with his cane. His cane. The symbol of Hensley power. It had belonged to his father and his father before him. He used it to assault them over and over... brutally...viciously. But he wouldn't tell me where he buried Breanna. It was his last pathetic victory over me."
"Why didn't you go to the police and tell them everything and why did you run?" Meg asked because she had to know.
"Simple, really. He told me that he would tell the cops that I was the guilty one if I breathed a word about what he had done. And they would have believed him. He had that much power in town and my own reputation...whether earned or not. would have sealed my fate. I still had the cash I'd stolen and I hitched a ride with a nice elderly gentleman right outside of town. He was headed for the east coast and glad of the company.
"I asked Father why he had done the things he had done and I can remember what he said even now. He said, 'I had to...had to or I would have raped my own daughter! May the devil take my soul.
"I remember murmuring 'He already has' but I made the mistake of getting too close and he saw it was me. Even after three years I remember his words. He screamed at me, 'It's you, is it? Dressed up like the sissy girl you've always been. I hated you for not being the son I wanted and I hated you even more for being what your sister wanted. You should have stayed dead. I was glad when your body came back. Glad do you hear me!'
"I snapped his neck. and left him slumped over the table, then went to look for her. She was in her room with the drapes pulled. In the dim light she looked like her old self. She knew I wasn't Breanna. 'Leave me alone, Devon!' she said. 'What did you know?' I asked her. I came closer and closer and could hear her breath quickening...the thud ...thud ..thud of her old heart. 'What did you know, Mother?' I asked again. Finally, she screamed it. 'I didn't want to know. I took a pill and went to sleep. What your father did, I didn't want to know.'
"So I said, 'But you did. You knew he went to my sister's room and you did nothing.'
"I'll never forget what she said, 'For goodness sake, Devon. He was impotent! What real harm could he have done? And he left me in peace. I gave him his 'heirs' and wished him luck with you. After that, what he did with you both was out of my hands!'
"'And heart, I told her, if you ever had one.' Then I killed her, too. Then hanged their bodies from the banister with a suicide note...a rather short, but romantic one. After that, I stayed around until the grocery boy...who knew they even had one!...made his fortnight delivery. I left the back way, when he came through the house. But I would have left anyway. I was beginning not to like the night at Hensley Hall...began to believe he was trying to come back, but told myself I was being paranoid. There couldn't be such things as ghosts or Breanna would have come to me when I begged her to.
"I had been living as Breanna, by then, for several weeks and it gave me comfort. Made me feel complete. So I began a new life and Anna Banner was born. I lived as her for three years, going from place to place, finally, working for Mrs. Stanford, where I 'inherited' Tavish after she died. I even worked at a she-male club for a short time, was a little long in the tooth for it, but I had talent and I learned a lot about reinventing myself into whoever I needed to be.
"I needed 'Anna O'Leary' and that is how we ended up here, Meg. Lying next to each other in the same bed," he laughed mockingly. "The pity is I cannot love you as you need to be loved. I am way too damaged, because of what I've done. What I've become. A monster in my own right. You are my heart, Meg. Breanna was my soul."
Meg had listened with a mixture of horror and empathy. Empathy won out. "They were the monsters, not you!" she said with tears running down her face. "Tell me about Cloud? You had Breanna's locket so you must have buried it with him under the rose bushes. Why?"
He smiled wistfully. "Father killed him because he no longer had Breanna to protect him. He threw his body behind the tool shed and I found him there. I loved that old cat. I buried him with Breanna's locket and a lock of my own hair so he wouldn't be alone. It felt like I was burying them both, when I shoveled the dirt over him.
"My father was, and is, an evil...evil man. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that dead my father would be even more powerful than he was when alive. Your séance proved that. And even more unfortunately, his evil has the power to infect me. I have to go fix Charlie and Zack some supper. I hate to sedate you again so soon, but you know the alternative. Same choice as before?"
She couldn't do more than nod and swallowed the bitter draught with a shudder.
"Good night, Meg," he said tenderly, stroking her hair as he waited for sleep to claim her. "You really are the only woman I have ever loved since my sister. I love you for your warmth, your tender heart and your nurturing spirit. We had fun, didn't we Meg? You loved Annie, I know you did."
"I did love Annie and I...."
"No, don't say it! You only pity me and I don't want that from you!" he told her fiercely.
Meg groaned. Her first and only secret admirer was a "weird duck" with a 'mother complex', but she really did love Annie and now Devon, not as a mother but as his friend...someone she could never turn her back on.
\*\*\*
Charlie was huddled at the kitchen table with Zack sitting next to her, as Annie brought them a fresh pot of coffee. "Looks like you two won't be touchin' a bite, though you should. You need to be keepin' your strength up. For Meggie's sake."
Charlie threw back her head and screamed, "I know that, Annie! Dear God, I would trade places with her this minute if I could! I would move heaven and hell for my sister and that's what's so awful. Not knowing what I can do. Just sitting here... waiting! Waiting for what? She could be hurt....someone could be hurting her right now and I can't do a damned thing about it!"
Zack put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't beat yourself up, Charlie. You're doing all that's humanly possible. Chief Beasely is looking for both of them. I'm trying to trace Adrian. He's the only possibility we have at the moment."
"Annie, I'm so sorry. I'm not being rational. I just feel like I..." She began to cry, great wracking sobs and Zack pulled her into his arms. "It's all my fault. None of this should have happened. She didn't want to do this in the first place. I should have listened to her, Zack!"
"Remember you asking me about fate? This all was supposed to happen, though for the life of me I don't know why," he told her.
"But it's not your life that's at stake here. It's Meg! She's so helpless...so Meg. I've always been there to protect her."
"I think you underestimate your sister, Charlie. I know we will find her and she will be okay."
Annie sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "I have one of me feelings that she'll be just fine. God help anyone who would hurt me Meg. If you don't mind, I'll be gettin' on home now. It's been a long and terrible day."
"Thank you for all your help, Annie. I don't know what we would do without you. I know Meg feels the same way. Hope you feel better in the morning."
"I'll take a bit of supper back with me if you won't be eatin' it. Me stomach is feelin' less rumbly and I might take a bite later on. Good night," Annie told them, as she loaded a basket and headed toward the door.
Zack stopped her. "I'm not letting you go out there alone. I'll walk you to your door and see you safely inside."
"Such a gentleman and me thinkin' you be the very devil himself. Who'd be wantin' the likes of me, but if you insist, I won't be turnin' you down. Fair gives me the shivers to be out in the dark these days."
As Charlie waited for Zack to return, she picked up her revolver from the table. What had happened to Meg so quickly that she didn't have time to fire off a shot...hadn't apparently even touched the gun? She had locked the door. She'd heard her. Was someone already in the house? They'd made sure everything was secured last night before they went to bed, but if someone wanted in....really wanted in...it would be hard to stop them.
Freddie whined and Charlie looked at him. He seemed lost without Meg. They had tried having him track her, but it was hopeless. He had led them a merry chase everywhere. Mostly after squirrels. "Freddie, we'll find her. She'll be okay. We just haven't looked in the right place yet."
Zack opened the door and came in. "You were saying?"
"I was telling Freddie we haven't looked in the right place yet. I was also wondering if someone had broken in over night and been waiting till we left Meg alone. I'm going to check the house over again and see if there is any way someone might have gotten in."
"And I'm coming with you. You are not leaving my sight until all this is over. I almost lost you once and I won't let it happen again," he said as he moved to her side.
"Always a passing hint...an oblique reference. Who are you?" Charlie found herself asking.
"Is it really the time for this?" he asked, raising one dark brow.
"Maybe the best time of all. I need something to keep me from going mad. I repeat. Who are you?"
"I was there the night Paul was killed. On the opposite side...under cover. I saw him go down and I saw you cover his body with your own. There were bullets flying everywhere and you didn't give ground. It was the bravest thing I ever saw," he told her, watching her, hating the pain he saw in her eyes...knowing he had just reopened a wound that hadn't healed.
"But it didn't save him, did it? He still died. I should have been able to do more," she said in little more than a whisper.
"I was there, remember? There was nothing more you or anyone else could have done. It was a miracle you weren't killed, too. I was a friend of Paul's. He often talked about you...that you were working together and had fallen in love. Not a very wise thing to do."
"We knew that but..."
"I know. He had plans for a life with you. I envied him with all my heart. Then that night, the good guys, if there are any in our line of work, rescued you and led me away in handcuffs. I never saw you again until I arrived here."
"Then you aren't here by chance?" she asked.
"Fate. Remember? What are the odds that I would ever find you again? Yet here we are," he replied.
"And in the middle of a very big mess. I think I do remember you. Dressed in your usual black. One of the bad guys. It was your smile I remember and your eyes. But you were the enemy....a drug dealer no less," she said, trying to smile.
"A real bad ass. It's been three years since Paul. Is there any chance?" he asked softly, tipping up her chin so she was forced to meet his eyes.
"I can't think about anything, or anyone, but my sister right now. Maybe I can give you some sort of answer on the other side of all this. Let's go check out the house, shall we?" His nod was her answer, though his eyes said more.
With Freddie trailing in their wake, they checked out every ground floor room. Every window was locked, as was every exit door. There was no sign of forced entry anywhere. Whoever had taken Meg must have convinced her to open the door in the short time they were gone or, as Charlie told Zack, "She left the house for some reason despite what I told her."
"Or because of what you told her if she is as stubborn as her sister," he replied.
"So it's back to me again," she began, then stopped. Freddie was acting strangely. He woofed....then woofed again, tilting his head from side to side and staring into the hall.
"What's got into him?" Zack asked and then they both saw it. A glowing ball that slowly took the form of a large fluffy white cat. Freddie barked excitedly and took off in pursuit.
"It's Cloud and I think he's trying to lead us somewhere. He must know where Meg is! Come on!" Charlie called over her shoulder, as she sprinted after Freddie.
Cloud melted easily through door after door, while Freddie was forced to wait till Charlie and Zack got there. But Cloud was always on the other side, flicking his fluffy tail impatiently.
As they ran past the kitchen table, Charlie paused long enough to snatch up her gun. Opening the outside door, they stepped out into a moonlit night. Ahead of then, Cloud glowed eerily, yowled twice and Freddie took off again in full pursuit.
It was as dark as it was ever likely to get when Meg's eyes fluttered open again. Something had roused her from a not very nice dream...something to do with being devoured alive. She heard Tavish whine and then the front door opened. Please, please let it be Charlie, she begged silently. But it wasn't. Devon was back. Quickly he removed Annie's dress and extra padding, threw her glasses on the dresser and kicked off her shoes. Peeling off her support hose, he straightened and crossed to the bed. Turning on the lamp next to it, he looked at her intently, then checked her bonds to make sure they were still secure. He removed her gag and, gently, touched the red marks the duct tape had left on her face. She blinked up at him and worked her mouth to ease her aching jaws.
"I've brought you a bite to eat, if you're hungry. I haven't much time, Meg. It's later than I wanted it to be, but I couldn't get here any sooner."
"Late for what? What do you mean?" she asked.
"If I'm not there, he'll come here. I can't let him find you!"
Somehow she knew the answer to the question she had to ask. "Who?"
"My father. He made me take Brittany. He is too strong for me. I should never have released his malignancy into the world. In death, he is more powerful than ever. He followed me back here after the séance and poured his ugliness into me...his rotting soul...and I couldn't stop him. Not entirely. Because I am his son and his blood courses through my veins. His evil is my inheritance. But also because of you. He said he would possess you, Meg, unless I did as he said and I could never allow that to happen."
"Devon, stop it! Fight him! You are your own person. You don't have to let him manipulate you. Is Brittany still alive?" Meg asked fiercely.
"Yes, at least for now. He wanted me to rape and kill her last night, but I fought him off. I won that once, but I can't do it twice."
"We have to go to wherever you're holding her, Devon, and release her. Maybe he isn't there yet? Maybe he's still in hell or wherever he hangs out during the day. We've got to try! She's just a girl...an innocent girl. Please, Devon, let me go. I won't scream...won't run. I'll help you get Brittany out of there."
He paced the room...back and forth...back and forth. "I can't stop him! Don't you hear me? Don't you understand? I can't stop him. Nobody can. He is the essence of evil and he cannot be destroyed!"
Meg stuck out her chin in a gesture Charlie would have recognized. "Nonsense! We'll find a way! Now let me go! Time's awasting!"
He smiled despite himself. "And Charlie thinks she's the strong one. All right. Have it your own way. I can't fight both him and you." He sighed deeply and untied her from the bed. "You are walking into the pit of hell, Meg. I'll do all I can to protect you, but it won't be enough."
Her head ached abominably and she felt like throwing up. "Okay, pit of hell here we come, but first I need a minute in the bathroom. Maybe you could find us a flashlight?"
Moments later, they were on their way. Meg was shaking and had to stop once to vomit in a bush, but she refused to turn back. The early moon pushed through a bank of clouds and lend an additional surrealism to what was already way past that. The trail was nothing more than a tangle of treacherous vines, roots, rocks and brush that the flashlight barely illuminated. They hadn't gone far, when Meg fell hard and she cursed under her breath. Devon looked down at her, "It only gets worse, you know."
"Let's go," she told him with grim determination, as she let him pull her to a standing position. "Every second counts!" Something rustled in the bushes and Meg refused to think about what it could be. One step in front of the other and as quickly as possible, she told herself, Brittany's life depended on it.
An owl hooted somewhere close by. Wasn't that a bad omen, she asked herself? But then how much badder could it be? A tree root tripped her and she fell again. "I had to ask?" she muttered, but she pulled herself up and hurried after Devon who was moving much faster now. And he had the flashlight!
She looked around worriedly. It was getting darker still...night was closing around them like a clenched fist, though the moon silvered the tree tops and cast puddles of light in their path. "Hello, up there! Slow down! I can't see a thing back here!" she called to Devon. Dear God, she thought, how much farther can it be? Not that she particularly wanted to get there, all things considered, but she had to get there...and quickly.
As if reading her mind, Devon appeared suddenly from the shadows. "Almost there," he told her. The moon caught him squarely and he looked like a dark, fallen angel, but it was his smile that froze her soul. It was the sad, resigned smile of a man who knew the inevitability of his fate and had lost all hope. He was going to play out the last of it, but already knew the outcome.
"Devon, please fight him. He can't win if you won't let him. Remember how much you hate him...what he did to your sister and those poor girls...."
He laughed mockingly, and grabbed her hand. "Then we'd better hurry. It may already be way too late."
\*\*\*
Charlie and Zack pushed through the undergrowth and along trails only animals ever traveled. Freddie raced ahead, following the glowing Cloud who was forced to pause and wait for him from time to time. Freddie was slowing down...getting tired of the game. Finally, he stopped and trotted back to Charlie. "No, Freddie! Go find Cloud! You have to follow him or we'll never find Meg in all this," but Freddie yawned and sat down. "What are we going to do now, Zack? She could be anywhere!"
He took her arm and pointed up the trail. Cloud had returned and was waiting for them. "There's your answer. Cloud has no intention of letting us down. Come on!"
\*\*\*
Between tripping over roots, running into low hanging branches and throwing up at several points, it seemed like forever before they landed in a clearing, where Devon pointed to a chimney silhouetted against the charcoal sky. "We're here. The cellar entrance is just to the left of that chimney. Please, Meg, don't do this," he pleaded, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking into her moon washed eyes.
His own eyes were in shadow, but she could feel their intensity. "She's only seventeen, Devon. The same age as Breanna. How can you let her die, too?" She tore herself free from his grasp and grabbed the flashlight from his hand. Sweeping the ground with its light as she ran, she reached the chimney and looked around.
The cellar doors were almost hidden by brush and she found them more by accident than design, when one foot went through the rotting wood. Muttering to herself, she pulled her foot free and was struggling to open the doors, when Devon's hand covered hers.
She looked at him and he was smiling. The same sad, fatalistic smile, as before. "Be careful. The stairs are steep and as rotted as these doors in places. There's a lantern on a hook down there. I'll go first and light it. Wait here."
But she didn't. She was on his heels, as he opened the doors and climbed down into the cellar. The smell was the first thing she noticed. Damp earth, decay, mold and something else that made her retch again. She swept the cellar with her flashlight, while he lit the lantern.
On a makeshift table in the middle of the room, was a body. Brittany. Devon held up the lantern and she sprinted forward, desperately afraid they were too late.
She was covered with a fragment of filthy blanket...mouth taped shut...hands and feet bound tightly, as only Devon knew how. She looked oh so dead! Then she opened her eyes. Terror lived there and Meg's heart lurched. "Brittany, we're here to save you. We're going to take you home," she told her, but Brittany's eyes were on Devon.
He looked down at her and smiled. "I'm back, just as I promised."
Meg looked up at Devon and the flashlight dropped from her nerveless fingers. In another era she would have swooned, but there was no time for that luxury now, she thought. Devon was becoming someone else. He was like a bottle slowly being filled with darkness. "Devon!" she cried. "Fight him! Fight him!" But Devon's eyes were hot, like burning embers, like the eyes she had seen before....his father's eyes. And he held a cane. The light glinted off its silver top, as he pulled out the hidden sword encased in its ebony length.
But somewhere inside the horror in front of her, Devon was still there. "Run, Meg! For God's sake, run!" he pleaded, hollowly. His face shifted...contorted....until she could see no vestige of Devon left, but still he called, "Meg!"
And then she heard her name called again. This time from outside the evil in front of her. It was Charlie! "We're in here," she screamed as loudly as she could. "Old Thumper has control of Devon."
"Not quite," he whispered as he grabbed her by the shoulders. He was panting heavily, face contorted, as though he was wrestling with the devil himself. "We're going up there and you must promise to do just as I say." She looked at him. Somehow he had managed to push back the darkness just enough...long enough... that he was Devon again. The man who loved her. "Keep moving, Meg. He's curious. He doesn't know what I'm going to do."
"What are....?" she began, but he wrapped his arm around her neck and choked off her words, then forced her up the stairs. At the top, he stood there and looked around. "I have a blade at your sister's neck and I will cut her throat. There is only one way you can stop me. Shoot me. And aim well...you won't have a second chance!"
Meg struggled to speak, but he tightened his hold and she began to lose consciousness. She could feel the cold evilness churn and twist in the man who held her, as his father began to understand what he was up to. "Kill me or she's dead," Devon screamed.
"Devon! Let Meg go! We can fix this!" Charlie shouted.
He screamed again. "Shoot me...please shoot me! I can't hold him off much longer!"
A shot rang out and Meg felt his hold loosen, then he fell to the ground, pulling her down with him. She cradled him in her lap, as he whispered, "Let the cops think they got their man...easier that way for everyone. Do you think there's forgiveness for me, Meg?" he asked hoarsely.
"You saved me from him and you gave up your life....
"It really wasn't much of a life."
"It was to me. You are my friend," Meg told him softly through her tears.
He smiled then and gave one last shuddering breath.
Then a lot of things seemed to happen at once. Devon began to glow and a black oily substance poured from his mouth and was sucked up into a huge shadow figure that came out of the darkness.
Slowly, it took the shape of a man, far larger than life, with glowing red eyes. He looked around like a wild animal caught out in the open, then scooped up the sword that had fallen from Devon's hand and pointed it at Meg, but she held her ground, unwilling to abandon Devon even in death..
From somewhere close, she, she heard Charlie scream her name, just as a spire of blue light spun out of nowhere and morphed into Breanna...beautiful again, wearing her white dress with the blue sash.
She drifted over Devon, then smiled and reached down, pulling his spirit free. They stood there together looking into each other's eyes, then laughed like children.
Hovering above them, the black shadow writhed and seethed with anger and hate; his burning red eyes filled with malevolency, but Breanna told him fiercely, "We are one now as we should always have been. One soul separated at birth. You are no match for us together. You need to go to hell where you belong."
But the evil in front of them disagreed. Pulsing wildly, he raised the sword above his head. "I am your father. I made you! You belong to me. You will always belong to me!" he screamed at them. "I will destroy you both!"
Suddenly, a glowing orb came out of the trees and sped their way. It grew larger and larger then morphed into the shape of a woman. Meg gasped. It was Nell...no longer frail and old, but young, angry and very determined.
Shaking her fist, she thrust herself between the twins and the dark, evil being that threatened them. "Hold your horses, Lord Hensley," she shouted, "which is really kind of funny when you get the whole context. As far as all that crap you were spouting goes, let me tell you something. I was there when these two were born and heard their mama call their father's name. It wasn't you she called. Seems she was tired of your fumbling attempts. She let you think you had accomplished the deed on one of your drunken visits, then cuckolded you with George the stable master...the short, dark one, remember? Not being the sentimental kind, she waited till she was certain she'd conceived, then sacked him. Since the midwife was deaf as a post, that left only me to keep her secret. She made me promise I would not breathe a word of it on this side of the grave, which brings me here.
"So now you know the truth. You have no hold on either Breanna or Devon. Be gone! You have done enough harm in your life and in your death. We will not suffer you here any more."
While Devon muttered to Breanna that he "should have been better in the saddle all things considered", Nell joined them in a powerful circle of pure white light. Then Breanna lifted Cloud into her arms and smiled as, one by one, three young girls floated up from the cellar, chanting "We do condemn you in this world and the next...We do condemn you....."
As each joined the circle of light, it grew stronger and stronger until it became so intense it tore through the center of the malignant being before them, shattering him into oily black fragments that were dispersed by a sudden wind that rose from nowhere and returned to the same place. The very last of Old Thumper was a long drawn out "No-o-o-o-o-o-o!" that faded into nothingness, as the three girls joined hands and spiraled upward. into a night sky now brilliant with light.
Meg wasn't certain when Charlie joined her. In many ways, it felt like she'd always been there. "I'm here, Meg," she said softly, as she knelt next to her sister.
Meg smiled and touched her cheek, then, gently, detached herself from Devon's body and stood. She looked up at the shimmer of light that was now Devon and smiled. He was free and he was with Breanna. She couldn't have asked for a better outcome than that. He returned her smile and she felt the light brush of a phantom kiss
Then Breanna and said, "Thank you, Meg and Charlie for everything. We will be leaving now...going into the light, where love heals all. My body is on the island inside the Folly. He didn't know that was our favorite place."
"And please don't tell anyone Breanna's there. Scatter my ashes over her grave. Neither of us want to be in the family crypt. Cloud, too If you will. I love you, Meg," Devon told her.
"I love you, too," she whispered back. Her hand found Charlie's and they both watched in awe as Breanna and Devon turned to each other. Smiling into each other's eyes they joined hands and became one...one perfect white flame...like an angel made of light. They were laughing....children again... as they spun up into the light and vanished into the night sky.
Nell watched with the rest of them and sighed. "I was too ready to believe what I shouldn't have, and not see what I should. But they have forgiven me for that. It wasn't Devon that hurt Timmy. I met him on my way here, hanging about where the stable used to be. Kind of lost and lonely. Told me he hurt the kittens in the rattraps and beat the mare. She had her revenge later. Too bad I believed Devon capable of that. I will regret that to my dying day." Then she laughed. "Seems I'm forgetting my dying day is over and done with. One minute I was breathing like an old steam engine on an upgrade and the next I was looking down at this old woman, lying in my bed. Then I came here. And just in the nick of time!
"I always liked it at Hensley Hall, despite everything. I'd like to stay, if you don't mind. There's still children there...Toby for one. I'd like to haunt the schoolrooms and maybe make amends for my failings with Breanna and Devon. I promise I won't be too much trouble. The little ones need me," Nell told them wistfully.
Charlie wrapped her arm around her sister and answered for both of them. "We'd love to have you, Nell. Welcome to the family."
Meg looked at Zack and then her sister. "Which one of you fired the shot?"
Zack answered her, "I did. It was the coup de gras for someone who died years ago. I gave him what he wanted. His freedom. And her."
Charlie looked into his eyes and saw the sadness there. He wouldn't have let her do it. Wouldn't put that between her and Meg, though she knew her sister understood. "Is Brittany okay?"
"Scared to death, but still alive," Meg told her.
"You two stay with her and I'll go back and lead the cops here. They'll never find this place unless I do."
They watched him disappear into the shadows. "Oh, Meg," Charlie said with a long drawn out sigh. "Thank God you're okay!"
"I sort of had things under control...at least until that last part. I thought Devon and I could get Brittany out of there before Old Thumper arrived. But it didn't turn out that way."
"Let's see what we can do for Brittany. She must be scared out of her mind."
"Who wouldn't be?" Meg exclaimed.
"Who indeed."
\*\*\*
The police came and went. Ambulances roared in and out. Devon was taken to the morgue and Brittany to the hospital. Zack, Meg and Charlie headed back to the house with Freddie sticking close to Meg. He had hid during most of the excitement and seemed to be trying to make up for it. Charlie made coffee and they sat around the kitchen table waiting for Chief Beasely to stop by. He had some last minute questions. Most of which they wouldn't answer. He had his man. He was incapable of believing the real truth.
"What made Old Thumper the evil being he became?" Meg asked tiredly
Zack looked at her for a moment before he replied, "I'm not a psychologist, but Jung believed each of us has a 'shadow aspect' capable of the darkest thoughts...fantasies...dreams. Most of us don't act on our darkest impulses...we have control and can sublimate them...but your Old Thumper had lost control a long time ago and became the beast of his own worst imaginings. For him the biggest taboo was incest so he held the line at raping his own daughter, but made up for it by raping and killing the others. Used his cane...the symbol of Hensley power...because he was impotent. And because Devon believed he was his son, it allowed him power over him...opened a portal to his own 'shadow aspect' and you saw the result."
"Incapable of incest, but more than willing to rape and murder substitutes for his supposed daughter. A hideous twist," Charlie said wryly.
"He was deranged and possibly possessed by his own ancestors. Look at the evil that ran through the whole Hensley male line," Meg added.
"Too bad Devon's mother didn't tell him the truth about his father. Perhaps it would have saved him," Charlie said, as she poured a second round
"Perhaps. At least it would have prevented what happened to Brittany and you, Meg," Zack replied.
Meg was quiet for a moment, then said, "What could he have been, if things had been different?"
"That's true of most of us, isn't it?" Charlie asked quietly, then rose to answer the front door.
More than an hour later, they wearily climbed the stairs to their rooms. Zack said good night to Meg and waited till she closed her door, then turned to Charlie. "I'm leaving in the morning. I'll be gone by the time you wake up. I wish you would wake up now, Charlie and not bury yourself with Paul. He'd be the first one to tell you that, if he could."
He pulled her into his arms, then, and kissed her fiercely, hungrily as though he could never get enough. She felt a rush of sensation sweep over her like a hot, dark wave. Suddenly, she was afraid...very afraid... that her next step would carry her over the edge... into? "I don't know if I'm safe with you, " she murmured breathlessly.
"You'll never be safe with me," he whispered savagely, as his lips found the curve of her neck.
A hot melting kind of madness engulfed her, as he pushed open the door to her room. He swept her into his arms and carried her across the room, then tossed her into the middle of the bed, where she lay quietly watching him watching her. Her skin seemed to heat up and tingles of sensation coiled and flexed and then ignited, as she watched him in the moonlight.
"Hell!" he muttered hoarsely as he began unbuttoning his shirt, "I've tried not to touch you when every part of me wanted to do just that. I've tried to be patient, when I'm not a patient man. I know you want me and, by God, I want you!"
She felt swollen and wet with need for this man and her eyes grew enormous, as he worked on his second button, then, swearing profanely, he ripped his shirt off and flung it across the room. She wanted him to take her...sweep her away from coherent thought, from guilt, and her unrelenting memories
It seemed he could read her thoughts. "I will not rape you, though it has crossed my mind. I won't let you take the easy way out...say I forced you against your will so you can live comfortably with that misplaced conscience of yours. Tell me that you want me, Charlie. Me...Zack!"
He was so beautiful in the moonlight...so heart stoppingly male...so very beguiling, she found herself unable to say anything at all. Instead, she lifted his hand and placed it on her breast, then smiled up into his eyes. He groaned and cursed at the same time, then bent down and scorched her lips with his hot mouth...then his tongue, as he slowly invaded her, bit by bit, until...
Bam! Bam! Bam! "Charlie, are you all right in there?" Meg called, then hammered on the wall three more times. "I hear noises! I'm coming over!"
A cold shower couldn't have been more effective! A shudder passed through Charlie and she pushed Zack away. "Go! I can't...not now....not here!"
For a long moment he looked at her, studying the play of emotions in saw in her eyes, then, cursing under his breath he snatched his shoes off the floor and headed out the door.
If he had hoped to get away unseen, it was too late. A sleep tousled Meg ran squarely into him, as he was leaving. Round eyed, she stared at his bare chest...the shoes dangling from one hand...and managed to say, "Oh my!" to his cold smile and nod. She stood, watching him until he disappeared into the darkness at the end of the hall, then opened Charlie's door just wide enough to say, "Sorry. I didn't know I was interrupting something. I thought you were having a nightmare or...something," she finished lamely.
Charlie groaned and rolled off the bed, trying to ignore the residual ache that remained to taunt her. She opened the door only a few more inches, then said, "It's okay, Meg. Zack's leaving in the morning and I'm staying here just as I promised you I would."
Meg noticed the tremor in her sister's voice, "Need company?"
"No, not tonight...not now. See you in the morning, Meg. I love you. Always remember that. The Ravynne sisters have a B&B to get ready," she told her with a smile she was far from feeling.
She closed the door and walked across the room. Touching her lips, she could still feel the bruising imprint of his kiss. Some part of her wanted to go after him...wanted it fiercely. He had taken care of her. Had been the first person she had ever allowed herself to lean on. He was what she had thought she'd always wanted, but he was right. If Meg hadn't stopped them, she would have. There was a ghost between them. But she would miss him. So very much!
She picked up the shirt he'd left lying on the floor and carried it over to the window. Burying her face in it, she breathed in his scent, then let the tears escape she'd been holding back forever. She cried for Paul...for Zack...and for the what might have beens had things been different. Had she been different. It was just after dawn when she heard his car start up.
EPILOGUE - SIX MONTHS LATER
With Freddie racing on ahead, Meg entered Charlie's tower room, carrying the morning mail and a cup of coffee. She shoved the mug at her sister, who was sitting behind her oversized mahogany desk, struggling with their woeful finances. She looked up and smiled, "We might just make it, Meg. We should have enough to cover the IRS and we're getting more Internet bookings than we expected with Rayne's haunted B&B angle. We even have one from Cornwall of all places. A place called Mor Alys Manor. Seems they have their own haunted B&B and wish us luck. Oh! And I heard they are starting to sell ghost souvenirs to the tourists in town. We're a success or close to it."
"That's beyond great!" Meg told her enthusiastically. "Here's a package for you...no return address...I already looked. And two letters for me. Well, one's actually for us both, but I'll open it. You first. I want to see what's inside. Maybe a bomb? Nothing would surprise me any more!"
Charlie smiled and put it next to her ear, "Doesn't tick. Feels like a book"
"Or a bomb cleverly disguised as a Book," Meg murmured.
Shaking her head, Charlie undid the brown paper wrapping and something fluttered to the desk. It was a postcard of Madrid. On the back was written in a bold masculine scrawl: Hope this helps with the haunted angle. You'll be seeing me later. It was signed with a 'Z'.
"I have to assume that's not Zorro. So what did Zack send you?"
"Did any of this have 'Meg' on it? Read your letters and quit snooping."
With a loud huff, Meg opened her first letter and began to read, while Charlie turned the book over in her hands. It was titled, A Haunting at Hensley Hall. She gasped when she saw the author's name. Zack's pen name. Flipping it open, she began to read.
Her "oh!" snared Meg's attention and she looked up from her own reading, her eyes bright with curiosity. "It's about us, about Hensely Hall, and you'll never guess Zack's pen name in a million years!" Charlie told her.
"Give that to me," Meg cried, trying to grab the book from her sister's hands without any luck. "Well, fine. Don't tell me. I'll find out the sneaky way, when I steal it from your room. I, on the other hand, am willing to share. Our parents write they will be here on Saturday and send their love. Dad has cleared his slate so he can start his new series...the one that's going to..."
"Scare the poop out of the kids. I remember. Can't wait to see them both. I am really glad we could keep them out of our mess, both figuratively and literally, until we got things cleaned up," Charlie told her with a smile, as she made sure she kept Zack's book safely out of her reach. Meg could be tricky. And quick!
Meg studied her chances for a quick grab and gave up, then held up her second letter and scrutinized it from all angles. "It's post marked Scotland and it looks like Allyn's handwriting. What do you suppose he's doing there?"
"Only one way to find out. Open it, Meg!"
So, she did. Her eyes grew wide...then wider... until finally she said, "It seems our little brother has managed to get himself engaged to a vampire and her father disapproves."
Charlie cursed under her breath. "You aren't, kidding are you?"
"No, says right here. You can read it for yourself."
Charlie grimaced and snatched the letter from Meg's hand. She read it quickly, mumbling under her breath the entire time. "You'll have to handle things here for awhile" she began, but Meg stopped her cold.
"Dad and Sage can manage things here, and Freddie...she'll love Freddie. I'm going with you. And don't you dare try and stop me!"
Charlie sighed then laughed, "I know. The Ravynne sisters can handle anything, right?"
"Yep, and we have experience with vampires, remember?"
Charlie thought about telling Meg the truth about her vampire, but decided against it. "How could I forget," she muttered instead.
###
This book is dedicated, with many thanks, to my treasured sister, Susan, who incorporates all the best qualities of the Ravynne sisters!

