It wasn’t Michael’s face I saw. It was Percy! Alive and standing before me! No ghost but living! His beautiful face was no longer golden but pale, his blue eyes no longer sparkling but dull and full of sadness. I suddenly realized how alike he was to Trinket.
“Percy? How can it be you? You are dead, you are dead!” I felt myself falling again, but he caught me.
“We have no time to talk, Aubrey. We have to go! Can you walk?” He looked nervously over his shoulder.
I laughed and cried at the same time. With dirty fingers I touched his face. “Is it really you, my own husband?”
“We must go! Hold on to me.” He slung my arm over his shoulder as I stared at him and struggled to walk. How long had I been imprisoned? Surely no more than a few hours. Or days? I was so thirsty!
“Percy, you are dead. I saw you buried! You cannot be here. Am I dead?”
“No, darling. You are not dead. We must run now. To the gate and then into the woods beyond. I know where we can hide.”
“Yes, I can run. But don’t leave me, Percy. Promise me you will never leave me again. He will punish me if you do.”
“I swear it. I won’t leave you again. I hear someone coming! We must run, Aubrey! Run with all your might!” And so we did run. I ran with Percy dragging me behind him. My chest burned, my feet hurt in my uncomfortable shoes, and my dark green dress hung off my body like a heavy shroud.
Then I too heard the clanging of a bell, the pounding of horse hooves on the road near us. As the animal approached, we fell to the ground and hid in the tall grasses on the side of the hill. I knew this hill! I’d been imprisoned in the garconniere!
“Now!” Percy whispered, and we ran across the road into the apple orchard. No one followed us, not even the dogs. Eventually they would come. They would find us for sure. But none of that mattered now.
I was with my own dear husband. And we would never part again.
Chapter Six – Rachel
By the time I got out of the car I was freezing. I zipped up my hoodie and made my way to the house. Okay, spiritual sensitivity, don’t let me down now. I closed my eyes for some reason, as if that would help me zone in on the ghosts of Idlewood. It didn’t. I felt nothing and saw nothing for a long time. Finally, I half-sat, half-leaned on the hood of my car and waited, wondering what I should do next.
To be honest, Angus’ request didn’t surprise me. In fact, I was prepared to go back. I still had my backpack full of the things an amateur ghost hunter might need, including some items I “borrowed” from some of the attic trunks. I found a braid of hair; the ribbon that held it together was marked with Aubrey Ferguson’s name. I also found an old cameo and a pair of riding gloves. Yes, I would have gone back if I hadn’t busted Angus in a lie; if I believed he wasn’t using me for access to the house. But that was then. Here I was now…and of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
No doubt I’d acted like a hothead by sending him away like that, and now here I was doing exactly what he wanted, just without him. What was my problem? It wasn’t like we hadn’t snuck in some ghost hunting before. No, that wasn’t it. He’d lied to me, kept a big secret about who he really was from me. That was wrong, a hundred percent. People looked for different things in a potential mate. Some folks wanted to find a playmate, others a soul mate. I just wanted honesty. At least Chip had been honest. He didn’t pretend that he liked the supernatural stuff I was into just to get on my good side. And yeah, he could be critical, but he was always honest. That was probably why we dated so long. I wasn’t even attracted to him, not like I was with Angus, but that just goes to show. Your body can totally pick the wrong guy.
Yet, I couldn’t allow Angus to die at the hands of the Shadow Man. Sure, Gran exaggerated at times, but in this case I’d felt it, knew it was evil. I couldn’t imagine that thing stalking me. If there was some way I could get rid of it, or convince it to leave, I would do it. At least try. Even if I never saw Angus again, I would know that I tried.
And still I felt nothing. No trace of a spirit, only the constant sadness, the energy left behind by those who had lived and died on the grounds of this great big house. Idlewood was so different from Seven Sisters. Our first restoration also had an assortment of spirits, but there were times when you could feel that they had loved one another, once. There had been hope there. Idlewood was another matter. Had anyone been happy here? Ever?
The porch light shone bright, and there were a few dim lights shining through the expensive curtains. The second floor and attic had no lights on, and I stared at the house wondering where to start. Then I saw a face, a small, familiar face. Trinket! Why would she be here unless to warn me about something?
“Trinket?” I whispered into the dark, knowing that if it was the girl’s spirit, the distance wouldn’t make a difference. She would hear me. I didn’t see her again for a few minutes, but then I caught a glimpse of her face looking down at me from Tallulah’s room. Her hair was long, and she wore her bow tonight. That was weird. Why would she do that? She hated those bows. “Trinket, what is it?” The girl shook her head slowly, just twice, and then disappeared.
Okay, well, Trinket doesn’t think this is a good idea either.
A shuffling sound in the nearby azalea bushes pulled my attention away from the upstairs windows. I heard the thud of footsteps as whoever it was quickly walked in the opposite direction. Wait. Could Angus have snuck in here? There was no gate to keep anyone out, as I’d been saying there should be for months. “Hey! Who’s over there?” Nobody answered me, but the footsteps moved even faster. They were heavy like a big man’s steps, but I still couldn’t see anyone. I pushed through the gap in the bushes and walked through the orchard. For a second I saw a fleeting shadow leave the pathway and climb the hill, but he was gone before I could go after him. “Angus? It’s me, Rachel!” If not Angus, who could it be?
I began to jog a little now, hoping to catch up with him. It seemed like the faster I moved, the faster he did. I didn’t dare take off running—there was more than one gopher hole on this property. Dry leaves crunched beneath my stomping feet, and I zipped the last few inches of my jacket up to my chin. There was a definite chill in the air. Someone close by had burned leaves recently; the musky fragrance lingered in the air. It reminded me of grilled hot dogs and family bonfires from my childhood. My stomach rumbled now, of course. I should have eaten dinner before I left the house. I climbed the hill and despite my familiarity with the Idlewood estate, I was surprised to find that I was now standing in front of the garconniere. Of all the rooms in the house and buildings on the property, I hated this one the most. And that was saying something. I was no fan of one particular room on the second floor. The large window in the front of the looming tower stood open, and it looked like the eye of a giant Cyclops. Whose idea had it been to build this monstrosity? It did not go with the house at all, and Carrie Jo and I had found very little in the way of information about it.
Low, soft-looking shrubs were recently planted around the circular building, but they did nothing to dampen the austerity of the towering edifice. It reminded me of the chess piece—which one was that? The rook? It was just weird. I chewed the inside of my lip, wondering what to do next. The thought of going inside caused stomach somersaults. I’d gotten lucky earlier, getting out of leading the tour out here, but now I was here again. As if Fate or something else wanted me here.
From inside I could hear the scraping of wood, like someone had pulled out a heavy chair in a deliberately jarring manner. Whoever was inside wasn’t taking great pains to keep quiet.
“Hey! You aren’t supposed to be in there!” I shouted to the closed door. Nobody answered. Surely if Angus were the intruder, he would have said something by now. My senses were tingling and my heart was racing.
“Angus?” I whispered as I tapped on the wooden door. Again, no one answered and I heard nothing. Big choice now. Do I leave and call someone to come check it out, or do I handle this myself? Well, this was
my big idea, wasn’t it? I wanted to talk to this thing. Couldn’t back down now.
I tapped again and this time tried the door handle. It didn’t budge. Definitely locked. Stupidly, I’d left my keys in the car, and that included the keys to the tower. If I wanted to get in, I’d have to retrieve them. That meant walking through the spooky woods not just once but several times. Did I really want to know who was inside? Stepping over the shrub, I quietly pressed my face against the window. I shielded my view from any glare, but I didn’t know why I bothered. It was pitch black inside and almost that dark outside. No lights, not even the light of a clock or a side lamp.
My breath clouded the window a bit now. Yes, it was cold and getting colder by the minute. I peered into the room where I guessed the chair would have been. I saw the chair and indeed, it was no longer under the table. Unless the last person to leave left it out like that. That was possible. Who was the last one here earlier? Ashland? Then I saw it. As dark as it was, the shadow that passed in front of my face was darker. It was no fluke, no trick of the light. It was a figure, like a man’s figure, tall and with muscular shoulders and no face. I gasped and nearly fell backwards before I collected my wits and leaned flat against the wall.
Oh no! It knows I’m here! Now what?
The hilltop wasn’t that far from me, I could run to it and pray that the Shadow Man didn’t follow me. I had never heard of him appearing in the orchard or outdoors at all.
Then the door began to shake as if someone on the inside wanted very much to be on the outside. The old-fashioned metal door knocker began clacking, and the wooden beams of the house heaved under the shifting weight. I began backing away from the house, step by step, my eyes never leaving the doorway. Just a few more steps now and I’d be at the hilltop, then I could run down the hill and through the orchard. I was ready for this. I could do this. The doorknob stopped twisting, the knocker stilled, and the house settled again. I breathed a sigh of relief and waited. I saw nothing, felt nothing, heard nothing.
Until I turned around.
Chapter Seven – Carrie Jo
Sunday morning always arrived early at my house. It was six o’clock, and Baby Boy was letting the world know it was time to get the day started. Thanks to the baby monitor, which seemed exceptionally loud this morning, I could tell AJ wanted to see his Momma right away. I peeked over the blanket at Ashland, who stirred beside me as if to say, “Just five more minutes?”
“I think it is you he wants to see,” he said. “Come on, babe. The master of the house has spoken. No sleep for us, and no more lazy days at the beach for you.”
I pretended to pout and rolled out of bed ready to see my son’s sweet face awake. I paused outside his door to make this moment linger with a game. “Baby Boy…Baby Boy…” I called from the hallway. “Is my Baby Boy awake?” He quieted his chattering to listen, and I said again, “AJ…guess who’s here?”
“Momma, Momma, Momma!” I could hear the excitement in his voice, and my heart felt like it was going to burst from happiness. I jumped out from the doorway and he squealed happily. I scooped him up and kissed his face about a dozen times. He giggled and squeezed me back.
“Wow! You partied hard last night, didn’t you? Let’s get you a fresh shirt and diapers. You ready to go get something to eat?” He raspberried his agreement and grabbed his feet as I hastily placed him on the changing table that was quickly becoming too small for my big ol’ boy. He clung to my hip as we went downstairs for breakfast. I smelled the coffee going and was happy to see my husband working on some scrambled eggs. Just at the smell of food our son was practically squalling for his breakfast. Every morning he seemed to forget that we always fed him.
“Ready for coffee?”
“Yes, and make mine a double.” I smiled at Ashland between shoveling spoonfuls of baby cereal into our son’s greedy mouth. “I know, I know. It’s good stuff, isn’t it?” I laughed at AJ as he smacked away.
“You got it,” Ashland said with a smile. “Now tell me what happened. I thought you were coming home today. Not that I’m complaining or anything. Last night was wonderful.”
“Ash! Not in front of the baby,” I said playfully. Baby AJ couldn’t care less what we were talking about; his little face was scrunched into a plea for more cereal. “I have so much to tell you I barely know where to start. For starters, Momma told me a few things about my father, and I have a picture in my purse.” Ashland scooped eggs out of the pan onto two small plates and gave me a look of surprise. “Don’t get excited. He’s not a nice man. My father, Jude Everett, kidnapped my brother Chance when he was only one, and my mother hasn’t seen him in almost twenty years. Naturally she blames herself. I guess any mother would.” I swallowed as I watched our son enjoy the last few spoons of his breakfast. I couldn’t imagine losing him. What she must have gone through! I sipped some coffee and went back to feeding the baby. My husband didn’t rush me, and I shared every bit of information I could remember. He wasn’t surprised to hear about my mother’s dream catching skills and said as much. By the time the baby was satisfied and I finished the story, my eggs were cold and my coffee cup was empty.
“Well at least you have a name and something to go on now. You are a talented researcher; you’ll find your brother.”
“How did you know I’d look for him?”
“Because that’s what we do, babe, and how could you not? If I had a lost sibling, I would never give up on finding him or her. Family is everything.” He squeezed my hand and said, “How is Deidre?”
“She’s okay, I think. She got a bit freaked out, though, and that’s why we came home. I had trouble connecting with you on the phone; it was like there were voices on there but not yours or mine. She heard it and just kind of lost it. And after her confession, she and I were exhausted. I’ll call her in a bit and make sure she’s okay. At times like this, I wish she’d stayed with us longer.”
“Yeah, but she needs her space just like everyone else. I think being on her own will be good for her.” His comment surprised me. Was he giving me a hint about something? Did he need space? I refreshed my coffee while Baby Boy played with what was left of his food. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. At this point he was certainly going to need a bath before he dressed for the day.
While I cleaned up AJ’s experimental artwork, the phone rang. Ashland picked up, and I was immediately intrigued by the conversation.
“Hello? Oh, hey, buddy! I haven’t heard from you in a while. How have you been? Aw, man…sorry to hear that. You in town? Um, sure. I can meet you for lunch. Where? Just a second…”
I wiped up the remnants of the cereal, which was quickly becoming concrete-like. I tossed the paper towels in the garbage can as my son let me know he was ready to be freed from his high chair prison and go play. “Okay, okay,” I said as I eased his chubby butt out of his high chair.
“Babe? Do we have plans today? It’s Jeremy. Wants to have lunch with me.”
“Uh, no plans that I know of. Go ahead. Me and the kiddo are going to hang out and play in the backyard.”
“Hey, Jeremy. Yes, let’s meet at Callahan’s. Sure, I think there’s a game on today. Yeah, I’ll see you at noon.” He hung up the phone and gave me a big grin. “That’s a blast from the past. I haven’t spoken to Jeremy in years.”
“Wait. You mean Jeremy Stevenson? Libby’s brother?” I couldn’t hide my disgust. Was Ashland serious? Call me cynical, but was this really a good idea?
“Yeah, but he’s nothing like her. Jeremy’s had some bad luck, but he’s a good guy. You’d like him. Like I said, he’s nothing like Libby.”
“Well, I hope not.”
He laughed, thinking I was joking. With an absent kiss on the top of my head he added, “I’m sure he’d be horrified to know that she behaved like she did. I’m still shocked by it.”
“Yeah, me too,” I added. I hadn’t forgotten Janice Kowalski’s warning about Libby. Something weird was going on. My husband and I had been married for a
couple of years, and I could not recall him mentioning spending time with Jeremy. Not while we were together anyway. Okay, Carrie Jo. Must you always be suspicious? Let it go and trust him. He has always done the right thing.
“Think I’ll sort through my office this morning, maybe tidy up my desk. You guys need anything?”
“Only a diaper change. You game?” I said, frowning at the smelly kid.
“Lucky you. Time to go.” He quickly left us, giving me a mischievous grin.
“Perfect timing,” I called after him. I watched his big shoulders sway down the hallway. Baby Boy sputtered in my arms, and we headed to change him. “Phew! What’s Daddy been feeding you?”
I cleaned up my messy kid and put him in his play gate in the living room when the phone rang again. Great. I hope it’s Libby this time. I’d love to tell her how I feel about her. I ditched my usual friendly hello. “Yes?”
“Carrie Jo? This is Janice. Is Rachel with you? Y’all working today?”
“Rachel? No I haven’t seen her in a couple of days. What’s going on, Janice?”
“She didn’t come home last night. She had an argument with Angus, went for a ride and never came home.”
Worry crept up and down my spine. This wasn’t like Rachel at all. She wasn’t the kind of girl who just didn’t come home. “Are you sure she didn’t just get up early and head to Idlewood? Or maybe go make up with him?”
“I’m not sure about anything. I just thought I’d call you first. I guess I am being a worrywart. If you hear from her, please have her call me.”
“Sure will. Hey, if you don’t hear from her soon, you call me. I’m here if you need me.”
“Great, thanks.” Janice hung up the phone, and I strolled down to Ashland’s office to ask him if he knew anything about this. He wasn’t in there. I peeked in on Baby Boy rolling his ball around and clapping his hands, and I smiled as I quickly climbed the stairs. Ash was in the guest room up there. The door was half open, and he was digging through one of the many storage containers that held his hundreds of pictures. He must have found what he was looking for because he sat on the bed and stared at the photograph a good long time. I tapped on the door and pretended I hadn’t been spying on him.
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