“I’m sorry, Haven. I should have gotten there sooner.”
“You did what you could. I don’t think it’s because of the house.” His voice was soft. “At least, not all of it. She keeps calling for Vale and for you.”
“Me?”
He nudged me toward her, and I took a seat on the bed across from her. “Mrs. Elliot? Lenore?”
Her head turned, and her face lit with recognition. She reached out and grabbed my hands in hers. “You’re here and you’re safe!”
“Yes, I’m safe. Haven got me.”
“Haven’s such a good boy.”
I nodded. Her smile fell and her hands tightened until I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
“They know you now, inside and out. That was the plan. Test you. Torture you. Get inside your head without you suspecting. All your fears, they know. You can’t go back there.”
“I have to.”
She squeezed harder and tears burned the corners of my eyes. The cuts on my fingers would be bleeding again.
“No. If you go back, she’ll be there, waiting for you. She has Vale. She wants you. A way to squeeze through into the next world. Her own personal martyr.”
“Mrs. El—”
She leaned forward. “Think it through, girl. Think! Why are there no psychic ghosts? What can they do in death and life that a ghost would find useful?”
Her face, which had been so intense, suddenly went slack, and she fluttered her eyelids, looking down at the grip she had on my hands.
“I’m sorry. What were we talking about?” Moisture rose in her eyes. “I had something important to tell you, but I can’t remember it now. Did I tell you?”
I patted her limp hands. “You did. You told me everything you needed to. Why don’t you rest now?”
“I wasn’t always crazy, you know,” she whispered. Her tone and expression broke my heart. “Once, I was happy.”
“You’ll be happy again. You will.”
She smiled and patted my cheek. “Haven picked a good girl.” Her hands fell away and she turned her eyes to the window beside her. It seemed like a light had gone off again in her mind.
Haven leaned over and kissed her cheek. “We’ll check in on you later, Mom.”
She didn’t even move.
Chapter Thirty-One
Friday morning started better than I thought it might. After spending Thursday night telling Haven and Grant a low-key but truthful, account of my time locked in the house, I had been ready to collapse. Passing out because your body can’t handle any more ghostly energy is not the same as getting real rest.
Even that had been hard to come by, with nightmares waking me throughout the night. It got better once Haven stretched out next to me. I still woke, and a few times I found him searching through internet sites. After I told him about the uncanny resemblance to the photos and what I’d found, he was determined to get more information before we went in with the Spirit Searchers.
I stretched, my resolve easier to hold on to with the morning light filtering through the window. We’d had a brief argument about the wisdom of my returning to the house. I won, but for a moment I had been tempted by the idea of staying behind.
But only for a moment. The spirits and I had a score to settle.
I rummaged through the overnight bag and got dressed, brushed my teeth, and tried to make my hair look a little less like a rat’s nest.
As I finished braiding it, my cell phone buzzed on the night stand. Bryan’s name flashed across the screen.
Shoving it in my pocket, I headed out into the kitchen. Haven, cordless phone pressed to his ear, waved and pointed at the table, which held eggs, bacon, and toast. Grant was already digging in and grinned broadly.
“Great spread, huh?”
I nodded. “I would say so. Did Haven cook?”
Grant shook his head and leaned closer. “It’s weird. His grandma did. Came out, acted all sour and made lots of comments about our plans, but made breakfast, then took a tray to share with Haven’s mom.”
“Okay.”
My hip buzzed again and I slid the cell phone out with a groan.
“Who is it?” Grant asked.
“Bryan.”
“Oh”—Grant scooped another forkful of eggs up—“It’s probably because they’re already at the house. Haven’s talking to Cain right now.”
“What time is it?” I hadn’t been paying attention when I got ready. I opened the text messages, both of which were Bryan asking why I wasn’t home and when I’d get there. They came in at ten-thirty.
“Crap. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“You needed the sleep.” Grant swallowed, stared down at his food. “I heard you call out a few times last night. Doesn’t sound like it was restful.”
“It got better.” I crunched through a piece of bacon.
Haven sat down, punching the end button on the phone. “All right. As soon as we’re finished, we’ll head over. If you’re sure you’re ready, Claire.”
I finished my bacon and wiped my mouth. “The longer we wait, the worse it will be.”
Once the announcement was made, we ate quickly and then gathered shoes and coats. I put my cell in my pocket, though it would probably be useless once inside. We were headed out the front door when Haven’s grandmother called our names.
She came out on the porch, her arms pulling the green cardigan closer. “Listen, you guys—” She swallowed hard. Her eyes stayed glued to Haven’s face. “Your grandfather used to get this look on his face. Like he was out to conquer the world and save humanity, no matter the cost. The one you’ve all got on your faces. Haven, you and I haven’t always gotten along, and I know it’s my own fault. You’re so much like your grandfather, and I lost him to this stuff. Make sure you come back.”
Haven hopped back up the stairs and hugged her. “I love you too.” He looked stunned.
Her gaze switched to mine, and all traces of vulnerability were gone. “You’ll try, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Elliot. I don’t intend for any of us to die in there today.”
She shuddered. “Neither did poor Lenore.”
Without another word, she turned around and went back inside.
Haven came down the steps, looking shell shocked. “I think maybe she’s possessed.”
I hugged him. “She loves you.”
After a pause, he shrugged. He didn’t appear convinced. “Let’s go. I told Cain we’d be there by eleven-thirty.”
***
Three large black vans were parked outside the house, the backs thrown open, and black cases, rolls of orange extension cables, and packages of batteries were pulled out in specific stacks.
Cain stood behind one, talking to a short, round man with spiked hair. We approached, gravel crunching under our feet. They both faced us, and Cain smiled. “Great. It’s good to see everyone this morning.” He shook each of our hands. When he got to mine, he paused, covering it with his other one and squeezing. “Glad to hear you’re all right.”
I nodded.
“Haven, Claire, Grant, this is George Christoph, our tech guy. I’ve filled everyone in on the house and the occupants.”
We shook hands with the tech guy, and Grant jumped forward. “You need help with this?”
George laughed. “Dude, you’re offering to help? Can we sign you up permanently?”
Grant grinned. “I love gadgets. I’ll help if you let me play with some of this stuff.”
George clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure thing. Come with me.”
“Boys and toys,” I teased.
Grant’s smile faded. “Unless you need me.”
I waved him off. “Go on. Just make sure you stay with someone.”
George answered for him. “No way. All of us know the rules, and we know what’s happened so far. I won’t let him out of my sight.”
“Thanks.”
Cain led the way
up the porch. “Bryan and Laura are doing interviews inside. Why don’t you two get it over with? Yours will be the longest, Claire.”
I nodded, and we went into the house. Haven’s hand at the small of my back helped me to keep steady when my stomach did flips. I took off my coat and hung it on the rack next to the door. The house was dim despite the lights being on and the blinds open. I took a deep breath and stepped farther inside. A breeze ruffled my hair, and I got the sense I was being laughed at.
We turned the corner into the living room and stopped.
From where Haven and I stood in the doorway, all I could see was the back of Mom’s head, her soft black hair piled in a severe knot on top of her head. The chair rocked slowly, back and forth, a slight creaking on every backward movement.
For one terrible, clear moment, I pictured myself picking up the heavy leaded glass lamp and bringing it down on her head. The vision was as clear as if I’d already done it.
My hands clenched around Haven’s fingers and bile burned the back of my throat. I shook my head, as if the movement would dislodge the images.
A low, throaty chuckle echoed around me and inside my head, the menace in surround sound. Mom stood, moved to face us, one hand wrapped around the locket at her throat.
“Such thoughts are not appropriate for a loving, sane daughter, my dear. Surely you are aware of this.”
“You are not my mother.”
“I look like your mother. Which is enough for the rest of the world. Besides, coming from you, they’ll think it’s another breakdown.” An ugly grimace passed over her face. “This world is all about appearances. Something can be rotten to the core, but you love it if the packaging is pretty enough.”
I hadn’t noticed her move closer, but suddenly she stood in front of me, one cold finger sliding beneath my chin and tilting my head to meet her gaze. “By then, you will be broken.”
The eyes were not the same anymore. I almost couldn’t remember what they were supposed to look like, and that frightened me even more.
“Stop it,” I growled. “You’ve done enough.”
The faint smile grew. “You are so strong. So much power. The others broke like twigs. You bend where they snap.” The touch left my face, and I choked back a response. She circled around me, her head moving, her body almost undulating like a snake. I tore my eyes away, focusing on the tips of my sneakers.
“You make me greedy. There is still the Halloween expedition to get through. Mustn’t mess those arrangements up.” She drew in a deep breath, licked her lips as though she smelled something delicious. “The taste is that much sweeter for the anticipation. I can wait. We have eternity.”
My heart thudded against my chest, and I shook with the instinct to turn and run. Instead, I held my ground. I would not give in so easily. We were going to finish this today, one way or another.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Laura saved everyone by coming in, a clipboard in hand. Her gaze flicked between us, and it was obvious there was a problem.
“Ah, I was going to take Mrs. Mallory, but if you’re ready Claire, we’d like to go ahead and get started on yours.”
Haven squeezed my hand. “Go on. I’ll be fine.”
He was whispering. I didn’t bother. “You can’t stay here with her. You’re coming with me.” When Laura looked like she might protest, I added. “He can sit off camera and be quiet. But he isn’t staying here.”
“No one is supposed to be alone.” She reminded me.
“Mom can find her own buddy.”
“I’ll stay with her. Just take care of the video diary in the kitchen. You’ll find what you need in there. It’s all set up,” Laura sputtered behind me.
They had set up the interviewing in the kitchen, with the interviewees to sit at the table. A tall man with broad shoulders and wavy blonde hair fiddled with the video camera and tripod. I took a seat and he extended a hand, flashing pearly white teeth. Haven frowned at him from where he stood on the other side of the kitchen.
“Hi. You must be Claire.”
I shook the offered hand and sat back. “Yup.”
“I’m Gabriel D’Arcangelous.”
I couldn’t resist a snicker. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”
“Sorry.”
Laura came back in, marking on the papers on the board. She handed it to me with a pen. “Sign the bottom. It’s a photo release form.”
I scribbled my name across the bottom and she snatched it back. “You’ll be relieved to know Bryan is sitting with your mother while I take care of this. He can’t stay, so you’ll just need to stay with Haven from now on.”
Not really, but I nodded anyway. She sniffed and took it back, stomping out of the room again.
Gabriel waited until she left, then flashed another white grin. “Okay, Claire. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll man the camera, and Haven can ask the questions. Don’t worry about hamming up for the camera. This is for record-keeping purposes.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
***
When I finished my interview, Gabriel was utterly silent for a long moment. Then he hit the button on the recorder and released a long breath. “That’s all for real? You didn’t make anything up? Embellish even a little bit?”
Irritation shot through me, but I tried to push it aside. If I were them, I’d think the same thing. I got up from the chair. “I don’t have to.”
He glanced at Haven. “And they said this was an easy weekend investigation?”
He spread his hands. “Their words, not ours.”
I shook Gabriel’s hand again, my eyes noting a small round signet ring on his pinky. I frowned, keeping hold of his hand a bit too long. A symbol was carved deep into the gold ring, a labyrinth pattern, like the one at Chartres, with a swooping pattern of loops and knots in the center. The longer I stared, the more detail seemed to appear.
“Um, Claire?”
“Sorry,” I said, releasing him. “Your ring…the symbol looked familiar.”
He laughed. “I get that a lot. It’s an old frat ring. You’ve seen the initials on a row house somewhere.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
I thought he was lying, but I didn’t have time to argue. It wasn’t related, as far as I could tell. Which meant it wasn’t important.
Haven and I switched places, and they did his interview, which was considerably shorter. Mom and Bryan came in as we finished. Bryan caught my arm as I walked past.
“Claire, we need to talk.”
Haven’s voice was little more than a snarl. “Don’t touch her.”
Bryan ignored him.
“You and I have nothing to say to each other.” I shook him off. “I’m still upset with you.”
“You don’t understand. I have to talk to you. There are reasons for what I did.”
Haven stepped between us. I noticed his hands were clenched and pressed against his thighs. “Reasons for beating her up? She’s still got bruises from you. Stay. Away.”
“I owe you nothing, Bryan. Right now, I need some air.” I gave him a curt nod before heading to sit on the front porch. Haven followed, and I could feel the anger radiating from him like heat waves.
“Chill out, Haven. We have to get through the rest of the night.”
He dropped down next to me, scooting over to let a tall, thin blonde walk past. She looked like a cover model rather than a ghost hunter.
“I know we don’t need to give the ghosts anything to work with, but I’d really like to finish what I started on the porch.”
I laid a hand on his arm. “Let it go. It isn’t worth it.”
Grant and George came by, heavy cases in hand. They were already setting up cameras and stringing cables and cords through the house. Cain started up the stairs and handed off the case he carried to the girl.
“That’s Julia. She’s newer than the others, but good.”
I nodded.
“H
aven, could you go up to the third floor and help Deon get those doors propped open? Grant said he’d rather wait a while before heading up there.”
“Sure.” He gave Cain a hard look, but did what he asked.
“Okay, you got rid of him,” I said. “So what do you need?”
Cain sighed. “I want to make sure, without Haven hovering over you, you’re okay with this. He told me what you said about a fourth floor and you think it’s where the heart of all this is. But I feel like you left some things out.”
He was smarter than I gave him credit for. “I think Haven, Grant, and I should give the tour of the house. Mom can stay with Laura and you can give them some sort of task to get accomplished. We need to find the entrance to the fourth floor. It’s got to be attic space.”
“But what do you think is up there?”
“Maggie.”
I didn’t have to explain who Maggie was. Cain’s eyebrows rose. “I thought she was the victim.”
“She was. But somewhere along the way, she also became the cause of this. I don’t know the details. I just know there’s a picture of her with her brother, the one that looks like Bryan, outside this house, and they both look miserable. I think he found out she was pregnant and planned on shutting her up here until the baby was born.”
Cain nodded, but it was an inward movement, as though he processed everything in his head and agreed. “I can see it. She has the baby, they take it, and she wants revenge. But where does the madness come into play? The other ghosts in such gruesome states?”
“I’m not sure about the others. I think Horace was into strange things. As for her…There’s a letter that mentions something about visions and not letting other people make her think she’s something she isn’t. It’s from Vale. I wonder if she was more dangerous than anyone knows.” I looked up at him. “Is there a record of her ever getting out?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been going through the records in the back office since we got here. We found the admission and release log, but there’s no mention of her release. Haven says his grandmother has an article claiming she disappeared.”
A Whispered Darkness Page 24