Ghosts from the Past

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Ghosts from the Past Page 3

by Bonnie Elizabeth


  A few more people came in, dressed in work clothes, the cream coveralls and heavy boots suggested they were working construction. Jimmy followed them, hurrying along to his seat.

  An older woman followed. She was dressed in baggy blue jeans and a pair of black boots and a plain blue sweatshirt.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” she said, sitting down to eat, as we were all taking our first bites.

  The dressing was a vinaigrette with herbs. Not my first choice as I’m a creamy ranch kind of girl, but it was tasty enough. And probably kept better in that small refrigerator. If they made it fresh, the oil and vinegar could stay in the cupboards and leave more space for other things.

  While we were serving, large pitchers of water and couple of opened bottles of wine were set out as well.

  “This is Rachel,” Nathan said when he finished chewing. “She’s valuing the antiques in the house.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Me, too,” Rachel returned and went back to dishing up salad. A lot of salad. I wondered if that was all she was going to eat. She was a tiny woman, almost birdlike, and her hair was more gray than brown. The lines on her face weren’t acne scars but age lines. She wore no glasses, which surprised me, but lots of people used eye surgery now to avoid them.

  “Tomorrow after breakfast, I’ll take you to the library,” Nathan said. “And get you settled in on what we have going on.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of valuing old books,” Rachel said. “It’s my job.”

  “I prefer to have more of an expert,” Bethany said in a voice of quiet authority.

  Rachel humphed and went back to her salad.

  “You also think you can value the artwork,” Jonathan replied, as if worried I’d be stung by Rachel’s remark. It was rather sweet of him, although I didn’t need his help.

  “I’m perfectly capable of that,” Rachel said. “I know several experts who would be willing to assist me.” She didn’t appear to notice she had just brought Jonathan’s credentials into question.

  “Which is why I hired Jonathan,” Bethany said. “Because he is an expert.”

  Rachel shrugged and continued to eat.

  Nathan said nothing, but I could feel tension radiating off of him.

  “So how was your drive?” Bethany said, changing the subject to something less charged, or at least I hoped it was less charged.

  I gave her a quick overview of the drive and how lovely I found Nova Scotia in general. That turned the conversation to the beauty of the area and soon enough the salad bowls were removed and two large platters of chicken breasts were brought out along with bowls of rice, broccoli, and carrots.

  I noticed that Jonathan took the carrots but not the broccoli. Rachel took a bit of everything but the chicken. Bethany took some of everything. I glanced down the table at the others who were digging into everything and grabbing what they needed.

  Rachel poured herself a glass of wine. Bethany had already done so and was sipping at hers. Rachel seemed to gulp hers down. I tried not to show my shock.

  No one else seemed horrified by that, but she didn’t immediately pour another one. She was definitely an odd duck, I thought.

  As we were finishing our main course, the lights flickered. Then they went out.

  I paused, listening.

  “Wait for it,” Nathan said. There was a certain humor in voice.

  The lights flickered again but it fell dark almost immediately.

  “The storm,” Maggie said from her end of the table. “We’ll need the lanterns.”

  I heard a chair scrape. The lights flickered for an instant. It was long enough that I saw Bethany standing up. She grabbed something as the darkness fell again.

  A fire flared as she flicked the lighter she had grabbed from the center of the table near one of the candle holders. She began lighting candles. Down at her end, with the faint light to see by, Maggie lit her own candles.

  “The generator for the kitchen is still working,” the man said coming through the door. He had a flashlight and I saw electric lanterns lit in the other room.

  Clearly no one thought the lights were coming back on.

  “Thank you,” Nathan said. “Last time, the darned thing clonked out and we lost everything we had in that refrigerator.”

  “Not that we keep much in there or even in the freezer out in the shed,” Bethany said. “It’s too unreliable. We get deliveries every other day. If you need something from the grocer, give it to Pat to put on the list.”

  Pat was, I assumed, one of the kitchen workers. Given that the name was rather unisex, I wasn’t sure which one.

  I just nodded, having just put a piece of chicken in my mouth. The sauce was very good, with a nice hint of spice but not overdone. Everything else was plain but tasty, and I could see myself eating well here.

  The lights flickered again and this time they stayed on. No one reached to douse the candles.

  “You never know,” Nathan said. “It’s why we have those electric lanterns everywhere. The electricity here is very finicky.”

  “So’s the heat,” Rachel said quietly. “You’ll be going along, doing your thing and suddenly it’s freezing. If I believed in ghosts…”

  “Which you don’t,” Bethany said quickly and smiled. It seemed to me that she smiled a little too brightly. I wondered if she were trying to hide something from me.

  Chapter 5

  Dinner didn’t last much longer. There were cookies or fruit, or both, for dessert. I had one of the oatmeal cookies. There was a hint of cardamom in them which gave them an unusual flavor that I couldn’t decide if I liked or not. But they smelled heavenly and were still warm, as if they weren’t long from the oven.

  Nathan stood after wolfing down a cookie and said he was going up for the night. A few of the workers were also getting up and leaving, mostly in a group.

  “You won’t want to go alone,” Rachel said, looking at me.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, wondering where exactly I wasn’t going to go alone to.

  “Back to your room.” Her tone made me feel rather foolish for not understanding. I wondered if she were one of those people who worked very hard to be hateful.

  “It’s okay,” Bethany said. “It’s just that most of us have gotten into the habit of making sure we always have someone around. It’s like the walkie-talkies. Odd things happen and you get turned around and suddenly you’re wandering around the house with no idea where you are. I don’t remember it happening when Aunt Audra was alive, but it seems to happen all the time now.”

  “The house probably hates that you’re doing all the renovations,” Rachel said. “Old houses are temperamental.” She eyed Bethany for a second before adding, “And so are their ghosts.”

  Bethany drew in a breath and sighed loudly. “I’m up, then.”

  I stood to follow her. I noticed that Rachel didn’t take her own advice, although there were still a few of the construction folks huddled around the cookies and fruit. The kitchen workers had settled with them and there were six of them or more sitting down there, and that group included Jimmy. Maggie had left with an earlier group. I wondered if she stayed on the premises or if she lived off site.

  Noticing me looking, Jimmy gave me a smile and a wave and I returned it. Still, I followed Bethany up the stairs. Jonathan was just ahead of her going quietly on his own.

  “Don’t let Rachel bother you,” Bethany said.

  “I won’t. I’ve worked with enough people to know when someone is trying to be difficult.”

  Jonathan chuckled up ahead. “Rachel doesn’t try. She just is.”

  “Poor Nathan has had his hands full with her,” Bethany said. “But she is very good at what she does.”

  “So she says,” Jonathan added.

  The floor creaked when he reached the top and stepped off into the hallway. The lights were flickering here, undecided if they would stay on or go off.

  “Make sure your electric lantern is close to the be
d,” Bethany said. “With the storm tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if the lights go out. In a new place that can be frightening.”

  Jonathan shivered extravagantly and unlocked a door on the left side of the hallway. The next door was Nathan’s and mine was across the way, just far enough up that the doors weren’t exactly across from each other. Bethany kept walking.

  I fiddled with my key, working to get it inserted in the lock. Bethany was four doors up. I wondered what her room was like. Finally I got the key to turn and the door to open. I felt for a light switch as the room was darker than I would have thought given the lights in the hallway.

  When the lights did come on, I was disappointed in how dim they were. The light barely broke a circle on the floor. I closed the door softly and went to the bedside and lighted one of the lamps. That did better, but only just. Very little of the light hit the ceiling but at least I could see around the bed.

  The pale floral patterned wallpaper looked like peeling paint in the poor light, and I wondered if that’s what this room had looked like before Bethany had started making changes. It was easy enough to interpret it that way.

  I crossed to the bathroom and turned on the light there. This one was brighter, or perhaps it was all the white subway tile that reflected what little light there was. I went back to the bedroom to undress and then took the electric lantern with me while I took a shower to wash the road dirt from my body and perhaps perk up my mind. There had been too much talk of ghostly intruders.

  The water was deliciously hot. Perhaps there was a special water heater just for the showers. I was tempted to stay a long time but had no idea how much hot water there was. If the power went out overnight, I didn’t want the others to be too angry with me for using it all up.

  Fortunately the lights didn’t go off while I was in there.

  I padded back to the bedroom. It was a pleasant enough room and I could see it being an artist’s retreat one day. The rooms were unique and probably all had an antique or two in them, especially if there weren’t any closets. All they really needed was a nice big comfortable chair, although that would make the room itself a bit crowded. I wondered if there was a sitting room of some sort around.

  I was lost in my fantasies as I went looking for my phone to see if I could call Tessie. I wasn’t hopeful of getting through that evening but I could at least send her a text if the lines were down. That would go through as soon as service came back up.

  My purse was in the cubby where I had left it, the strap slightly protruding. I didn’t recall leaving it like that. I opened my purse to find my phone, but unfortunately it wasn’t there. Could I have dropped it somewhere? I didn’t think so. I knew I had placed it in the pocket near the top of the purse where I always left it. I hated to be unable to find my phone.

  Searching my memory, I recalled that I’d tried to read some email at the last stop I’d made. I saw myself placing it carefully in the pocket because I knew my next stop would be Schilling Manor. Once at the Manor, I had taken my purse, zipped it up and then left the car, looking at the coming storm.

  Who would take my phone and why? It seemed ridiculous. I’d locked the door when I’d gone down to dinner, so who could have gotten in?

  I sighed. I hated not having the thing. My stomach tightened at the thought of being there without my phone. I could go into town and get a new one to replace it. I would look in the car, first, though, just to be certain. It was possible my purse hadn’t been zipped.

  Deep down I was certain I wasn’t wrong about having done that. Which meant that there was someone here who wasn’t completely honest. I recalled Jonathan carefully using the key to his room. I thought about the shiny new locks and how solid they were. There was definitely something going on.

  I was going need to find out what that was. I considered getting dressed again and knocking on Nathan’s door but that felt too much like a potential booty call. I could go down the hall to find Bethany but I wasn’t sure she’d tell me anything about the place. She’d probably smile and insist that my phone was safely in my car where it had likely dropped.

  I’d have to wait until morning. It wasn’t like I had expected to get a message out to Tessie anyway. I looked longingly at my computer, realizing that I didn’t even know if there was wifi there and if so, what the password was. I’d done a horrible job of getting myself settled in.

  At least I had the walkie-talkie if something happened in the night. I could call out to the others. Of course, I mused, finding my ereader, that assumed that one of them wasn’t trying to rob me or worse.

  Chapter 6

  It took me longer than I wanted to fall asleep. I couldn’t download a new book as I couldn’t find a connection in order to download anything. I’d have to do it the next day. I had a few books I could read but they all seemed rather dark and gloomy, and the last thing I needed to be reading was something dark and gloomy in the manor.

  I finally gave up and snuggled into the sheets, which felt soft and thick. They smelled faintly of lavender and citrus, and I suspected they were new. The blanket and comforter that was on the bed were also likely new, although they had a sort of distressed look about them, probably the better to make them fit into the place.

  Not that the Ikea dressers exactly fit. They comforted me, though, because they seemed modern and ordinary, whereas everything else seemed just a little bit skewed from normal.

  Rain pattered on the window, sometimes louder and sometimes softer. The house creaked and burped. When the radiator came on, it hissed and then it spat loudly and groaned. The first time it happened, I sat bolt upright in bed wondering who was there. Images of groaning ghosts with long chains played in my mind. I turned on the light, or tried to, but the lamp wouldn’t light.

  It was only then that I remembered I’d left the electric lantern in the bathroom near the tub. Did I dare climb out of bed to find it?

  When I banished the ghost and chains thoughts, I crawled deeper into the bed and tried to fall asleep, but it remained elusive. Each creak or groan or hiss might be a murderous ghoul about to reach out a hand and grab me. So I tossed and turned, trying to find a position that kept the noises at bay.

  I finally did fall asleep but that was when the light started to come through the window and the rain had stopped pattering. Even then I dreamed that someone was walking through the room, looking around.

  In my dream it was a young man in Victorian garb shaking his head and saying, “This is all wrong. Can’t they see that?”

  I had no idea how to help him and he drifted out of the room in my dreams and I finally slept, as if he’d taken all the ghosts with him.

  I woke to the slam of a door and someone saying, “Oops, sorry!”

  It sounded like Rachel, and I had a feeling she wasn’t sorry at all. I slipped out of the bed now that there was enough light to see. I pulled the curtains, thankful they hadn’t been pulled tightly together. That let in even more gray light. I saw sky between clouds out there, and I hoped that that meant the rain would be passing and there would be some nice weather.

  When I left the bathroom, I made a point of taking the electric lantern with me and setting it carefully on the bedside table. I made up the bed and found my key. I grabbed the walkie-talkie, putting it in the pocket of my sweater. I wasn’t sure I’d need a sweater but the thing was too big to fit in my jeans, which was what I was wearing.

  I had on an old T-shirt that said Gamecocks. It had been a joke from Tessie because they were the main rivals of our own Clemson Tigers. It seemed like a good shirt to get filthy.

  No one had said a word about breakfast. I wondered if it was a serve yourself or what. I locked my door carefully and went downstairs to see what was happening.

  The stairs seemed to creak less in the morning light. The paneling was just as dreary as ever, and I couldn’t imagine a day when it wasn’t depressing.

  Downstairs I walked through the kitchen. The two workers were sitting around on tall stools, leaning
over one of the central counters.

  “Morning,” I said. “Did I miss breakfast?”

  The woman shook her head. “It’s a buffet serve yourself out there. Different people eat at different times in the mornings.”

  “Ah. Thank you,” I said. “Maggie didn’t mention that. I’m Lara, by the way.”

  The woman nodded. “Pat.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Bob,” the man said offering a fairly limp handshake.

  They both looked nice. I had more questions but they had seemed comfortable talking and resting on their stools in the kitchen drinking coffee, so I just went out to the dining room.

  Rachel was there, in the same seat from the evening before. Nathan was also there and Jimmy and a young woman who was dressed in construction cream.

  “Morning,” I said when Nathan caught my eye.

  Rachel said nothing but Nathan nodded in my direction. He gestured to the wall next to the door where I saw a sideboard loaded with food.

  I had my choice of muffins, one of which looked like whole grain and another that looked like blueberry. There were several different cereals in little boxes and a pitcher of milk. Next to that was a round heating pan that held oatmeal.

  There was second pan that held link sausages which smelled heavenly. A chilled bowl held more fruit. A plate held cheeses and there were jars of jams and peanut butter along with bread and a toaster. Apparently we were allowed to use the toaster without supervision.

  I dished up some oatmeal and took some of the sausage and fruit. My stomach growled. I walked back to the table and saw the huge mugs which reminded me of coffee.

  Reading my mind Nathan said, “Coffee and tea are off to the right.” I looked where he pointed and saw that on the other side of the door was a little table in the alcove that held two of the large upright metal containers that hotels often used to serve coffee and hot water. I noticed there was no decaf on the table.

 

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