Lifelike

by Sheila A. Nielson

  “This is seriously messed up,” Cassandra hissed, valiantly fighting against the hilarity I could see building behind her dancing eyes. “Mom is going to freak when she hears about this.” Clearly, Cassandra found the whole situation to be a great, big joke. We seriously needed to put an end to this as quickly as possible.

  “Um, Aunt Victoria?” I called out to her as inconspicuously as I could. She turned toward me. I beckoned silently to let her know I needed her to come over, away from the buzzing crowd of museum guests. She started in my direction, with Gabrielle following close on her heels.

  “Do you think we’ll get in trouble,” Cassandra asked me under her breath.

  “You can cut and run if you want,” I whispered back. “I’m the one who burped.”

  “I’m the one that gave you the Sprite. I’m also the one who got us trapped in the closet in the first place.”

  Good point.

  Aunt Victoria and Gabrielle stopped in front of us, waiting expectantly.

  “About that ghost,” I said, glancing over at the group of museum guests still hovering around the area.

  “You saw what happened?” Gabrielle asked.

  “See it, noooo,” Cassandra said, fighting a grin. “But we did hear it.” I elbowed her in the ribs to keep her quiet.

  “What’s this about?” Aunt Victoria said, looking straight at me.

  “An oath I’m about to make, never to drink Sprite again,” I said by way of introduction.

  Cassandra completely lost it then, laughing like crazy. Gabrielle and Aunt Victoria looked at her in concern as she doubled over, clutching her stomach with one hand and waving the other uselessly in front of her. Not a whole lot of help.

  “We were exploring the secret closet,” I said, lowering my voice. “Those kids came in while we were in there.”

  “And you decided that it might be fun to scare some of our paying customers by growling at them through the wall?” Gabrielle demanded.

  That sent Cassandra off into another gale of laughter. I gave her a shove in the shoulder. She tried to swallow down her merriment, gaining some momentary control.

  “It was an accident,” I said, turning to Aunt Victoria. “We were trying to be quiet and not disturb them, but I’d been drinking Sprite and—" Cassandra looked ready to explode at any moment, so I thought I’d better leave the rest to their imagination.

  Gabrielle continued to scowl in confusion, but Aunt Victoria got it. I mean, really got it. Her eyes widened. She blinked rapidly a few times. Then her lips twitched.

  “You’d been drinking Sprite and what?” Gabrielle demanded.

  That was it for Aunt Victoria. The laughter burbled up out of her like a spring out of dusty dry earth. She put her hand to her mouth as if she could stop the gushing that way. That just set off Cassandra all over again. The two of them spurred each other on to greater heights of hilarity. Some of the museum guests stopped in puzzled silence to watch them go at it. I’d never seen Aunt Victoria laugh like that before. Unrestrained and uncontrolled giggles that shook her whole body. Her eyes were curled up so tight, I was pretty sure she couldn’t see two inches in front of her.

  That’s when I caught sight of Gabrielle. All the tension drained from the young curator’s body as she watched Aunt Victoria. The corners of Gabrielle’s mouth curved upward, lifted by the mere sound of my aunt’s bubbling laughter. In that moment, I realized that Gabrielle cared a great deal about my aunt’s happiness. Even more than her own. I couldn’t help but wonder if that might be why she was always so uptight about everyone doing their job right—because she wanted the museum to be its best for Aunt Victoria’s sake.

  Gabrielle must have felt the weight of my intent stare because she glanced suddenly in my direction. I felt my face soften as a smiled spread over my lips. Gabrielle blinked, as if surprised by my sudden warmth. Had I really been that stingy with my smiles lately? Yes, I decided, I probably had.

  I let my smile widen into a mischievous grin. Gabrielle’s eyes crinkled gently at the corners as she smiled at me in return. Gabrielle’s smile could have made millions for toothpaste companies. It made her look like a whole new person.

  “I’m thinking we’d better keep the truth of this little incident to ourselves,” Aunt Victoria finally said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “Won’t those kids leave here thinking they’ve seen a ghost,” Gabrielle said, now looking a whole lot more amused than concerned.

  “They shouldn’t have been in the study in the first place,” I pointed out. “Maybe now they’ve learned their lesson.”

  “Never mix ghosts and Sprite,” Cassandra said with a chuckle. “One of life’s little lessons you never saw coming.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Hey there, Wren.” Matt’s voice startled me from the weary stupor I’d temporarily fallen into. I shook my head, trying to clear away a bit of the mental haze that had settled over me as the day passed. How long had I been sitting behind this desk staring at nothing?

  “Where’s Victoria?” Matt stood in the office doorway, watching me intently.

  “She went out to say goodnight to the ghost hunters.” My voice came out sounding slightly slurred, as if I’d just woken from a nap. I forced myself to focus and speak more clearly as I went on. “Aunt Victoria gave them permission to camp their RV in the parking lot for as long as they are staying in town.”

  Matt’s brow rippled itself into a sea of concern. “You look a little pale, Wren. Are you feeling sick or something?”

  I pretended to be completely absorbed in tracing the dark grain of Aunt Victoria’s cherry-wood desk so I wouldn’t have to look up and meet his honest gaze. “Oh, no. I’m fine, really,” I said a little too quickly. “It’s just been such an eventful day. I’m a little overtired, is all.” My finger began to burn as I doggedly rubbed the wood back and forth over the desk’s blood-red surface.

  Matt continued to look at me, not quite convinced.

  I decided to distract him with a question that had been bugging me ever since Cassandra and I escaped the closet. “Matt? Have you heard the story about the girl who was locked up in the wardrobe during a ball so the other girls would have a chance to dance with Xavier Kensington?”

  It worked like a charm. Matt’s face brightened. “Yeah, I tell that one to my tours all the time.”

  “I was curious if there was any more to the account. I mean, once she was let out of the wardrobe what happened to her? Did they ever find out who locked her up?”

  “Not that I’ve heard,” Matt laughed while shaking his head. “Back in those days, women were pretty limited in their choices in life. The man they married pretty much decided what the rest of their future would be like. Competition for a good-looking, rich guy like Xavier would have been brutal, to say the least.”

  “Did she and Xavier ever get back together?”

  “Nope, it was too late for Felicity Smithson.”

  An icy cold chill shivered through my veins as I recognized the name. “Her name was Felicity?” I said through numb lips. Matt nodded.

  Just like the girl in my dream.

  “What do you mean, ‘it was too late for her?’” I said slowly. “Don’t tell me Xavier murdered Felicity, too.” Wasn’t that just what we needed around here? Another violent death.

  “The night Felicity Smithson was locked in the wardrobe was the same night Xavier met his match,” Matt said. “After the lovely Miss Rosalyn Worthin came into his life, Xavier never had eyes for any other young lady. They were engaged to be married only five months later.”

  “That’s pretty quick.”

  Matt grinned. “Xavier was a fast mover. Less than two weeks after their engagement was announced, he was already drawing up plans for a comfortable new house for the two of them.”

  “What did Felicity think of Rosalyn stepping in and stealing her man?”

  Matt shrugged. “Other than the one report of the wardrobe incident, I can’t remember Felicity’s name ever
being mentioned again.”

  “I’ll bet Miss Smithson would turn over in her grave if she knew the only thing she’s remembered for is the fact she was locked into a piece of furniture,” I said dryly.

  Matt laughed, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Well, I’m headed home now. Everything’s locked up tight and Richard should be in for the night shift soon. Would you mind passing that message along to your aunt—or Gabrielle?”

  When he spoke Gabrielle’s name, it came out sounding different, sort of soft and gentle. Hearing it made my heart ache for him. I figured Matt had as much chance of winning Gabrielle’s heart as I did of being saved by some last-minute miracle cure. In fact, my chances were probably slightly better since scientists were actually fighting to find a cure for cancer every day. Matt, on the other hand, was pretty much screwed.

  “You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll give them your message about locking up.”

  Matt waved his goodbye and left the office. I gave out a soft sigh, listening to the sound of Matt’s footsteps fading away into the distance. Why was life so utterly and completely unfair? If I ran things, guys like Matt would always get the girl—and girls like me would never die young.

  “Well, Wren,” I said, gathering up all the weary pieces of myself. “You’ve had your fun and adventure for today. Time to go upstairs and maybe get in a few chapters of that new Georgette Heyer novel before bedtime.”

  I stood up too fast or something, because the world whirled beneath my feet, swaying for a moment. I clutched the end of Aunt Victoria’s desk for support. I was so tired. Every bone in my body ached with fatigue, right down to the marrow. The fuzzy feeling in my head made me feel slightly sick. I took deep breaths that helped the wave of dizziness to pass. Thank goodness Matt hadn’t seen me stagger like that. He would have really known something was wrong with me.

  “I guess that means it’s past my bedtime,” I said, glancing at the clock on the office wall. It was 7:36 pm. “My bedtime gets earlier and earlier these days.”

  I took a few tentative steps. The dizziness seemed to have temporarily receded, so I wandered slowly out of the office. A movement at the corner of my sight caused me to pause and glance to my left. There on the floor, just a couple feet inside the next room over, was a shadow.

  I stared at it, my feet rooted to floor, as useless as a fence post.

  The silhouette looked as if it were cast across the floor by an object just out of my line of sight. It moved slowly in place, like a swirling pool of dark, against the wooden floorboards. I could make out what looked like an elongated head and shoulders, maybe even an arm. As I watched, it froze still as a statue. Like a deer poised for flight. Had it sensed my presence?

  Ghosts are just people with issues, I told my racing heart firmly. Dead people. Like my family and Cassandra’s father. Maybe even Aunt Victoria’s fiancé, Jack.

  I remembered the gentle touch of the ghostly hand on my wrist, guiding me to the only way out of the secret room. What if the shadow in the other room belonged to some lost soul? A person who was trapped between the world of the living and the world of the dead—just like Cassandra and I had been trapped in the closet. Like the butterfly in the spider’s web, they needed help being released.

  As I watched, the shadow on the floor suddenly bent over, doubling in on itself like a person in severe pain.

  Stealing down the hall as silently as my sluggish body would allow, I didn’t have time to think about the stupidity of what I was doing. The shadow might disappear again at any moment. I walked through the doorway, turned the corner, and discovered—Gabrielle. It was her shadow.

  With her back to me, she stood bent over, palms flat, her ear pressed tight up against the wall. I stopped, watching her silently. Gabrielle continued to stand there, intently listening to the wall.

  That’s when I finally noticed the dolls.

  I glanced around at the displays in the room. Everywhere I turned, dozens of blank, expressionless eyes bored into Gabrielle’s back. One doll even had its neck craned backward, at an extremely unnerving angle, just so it could keep its glassy gaze on her. Whatever Gabrielle was listening to inside the wall, it seemed to have a curiously strong influence over the dolls—drawing their attention like an irresistible magnet.

  So. Not. Good.

  Keep calm, Wren. Don’t panic.

  “What do you hear, exactly?” I tried to ask Gabrielle in as calm a voice as I could manage.

  I must have done a really good job keeping my approach quiet, because Gabrielle popped straight up into the air and whirled about. Seeing it was only me, she put her hand to her throat and swallowed down hard.

  “Wren, you scared me half to death.” Gabrielle was a little breathless, but other than that she seemed pretty composed. Obviously, she hadn’t noticed the creepy, leering dolls yet.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to pretend there was not a full-on freak-out session taking place within all four chambers of my heart. “I was just curious what you were listening to?”

  “There was a funny sound coming from inside there,” Gabrielle said, squinting at the wall. “It’s stopped now.”

  I glanced uneasily at the dolls. Each and every head was still locked in our direction. They weren’t moving or threatening us in any way, they were just watching. Which meant, the presence behind the wall was still in there, listening to every word we said.

  If the pleasant ghost in the study was Xavier Kensington, then whose icy-cold spirit was bumping inside the walls down here? Why were they crawling around like a trapped feral animal instead of passing right through physical barriers the way the ghost in the secret closet had? What ghostly law of physics was at work here? Most important of all, how could I get this ghost to stop with the creepy, staring dolls before Gabrielle noticed anything was up?

  “I swear there was something in there a few seconds ago.” Gabrielle pushed her glossy hair away from her ear and bent forward, listening carefully through the wood paneling.

  Oh, “it” was still there all right. And I really didn’t think it was a very good idea for Gabrielle to get that close to the wall when there might be an angry spirit on the other side. So far this particular ghost had not tried to hurt anyone, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t. I needed to distract Gabrielle and keep her from noticing that there were dozens of glittering glass eyes glued to her.

  “I heard some noises the first day I moved here,” I admitted slowly.

  “What do you think it is?” Gabrielle asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the offending wall.

  A raving ice monster—possibly a dead one.

  If I told Gabrielle the truth, she would either believe me and be scared out of her wits, or she would think I was the one who’d lost my wits. Either way, the wits weren’t fairing too well. I decided to play it safe.

  “Maybe it’s rats?” I lied. “Really big rats.”

  Gabrielle drew quickly away from the wall, her eyes huge—which was exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.

  That’s when our unseen spirit decided to make its move. There was a loud thump as something heavy fell down the back of the wall onto the floor. It put on a burst of speed, scuttling noisily under the floorboards, heading straight for me. I could feel it bumping beneath my feet as it came closer. Half expecting some predatory creature to come bursting up through the flooring, I lurched sideways in alarm, my fatigued reflexes making me clumsy. Even Gabrielle took a step backward in surprise. The sounds cut across the room and scurried into the far wall. A blanket of heavy silence quickly followed.

  Gabrielle turned wide-eyed in my direction. “Did you…?”

  “Yeah, I felt it too.”

  “You’re right. That was definitely some kind of very large rodent. We’re talking squirrel, maybe even possum.” Gabrielle’s body gave way to a shudder. “Isn’t that just what I need? I’ll call an exterminator tomorrow and have them come out and investigate.”

  Yeah, well, good luck with that. Unless she had
the Ghostbusters on speed dial, I couldn’t see how calling anyone else was going to help the situation. I gave the displays in the room a slow once over. All the doll heads were back to their normal positions. The spirit had definitely moved on.

  But to where?

  Gabrielle gave out a deep sigh, like the weight of all the museum’s problems were just too much for her. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another with this place.”

  She had no idea. And that was exactly the way I wanted it.

  If there was a way to put the ghosts of Kensington House permanently to rest, I was going to find it—and fast—because I didn’t have much time left.

  “Matt wanted me to let you know the building is all locked up for the night,” I said in an attempt to change the subject. Gabrielle nodded absently, still gazing at the floor.

  When I spoke, I tried to make my voice sound casual. “Can you believe the way Matt handled that little boy’s parents today? He was so professional and in control of the situation. He had that kid’s parents calmed down and eating out of his hand in less than a minute.”

  Gabrielle actually smiled, shaking her head in amazement. “He was pretty good, wasn’t he? Who would have thought he had it in him?”

  Was that praise coming out of Gabrielle? An encouraging sign, at last.

  “I saw Matt giving a tour yesterday. He had those kids completely enthralled,” I said, feeling my way carefully along.

  Gabrielle frowned slightly. “He’s a little too good, sometimes. All those stories of ghosts and murder give visitors the wrong idea about this place. It makes them jumpy.”

  She was telling me this?

  “The kids seem to love it though,” was my brilliant answer.

  “Matt is extremely good with kids,” Gabrielle grudgingly admitted. “He was hired by Mr. Evans and has worked here at the museum for years. Which makes him the expert on all things Kensington House.”

  “He seems like a pretty great guy, too. Not half bad looking either.” Real smooth, Wren. Why, that didn’t sound suspiciously contrived at all.