by Janni Nell
Please let them be okay.
In the passenger seat, Mom sat perfectly still, white faced. I wrenched open the door, scanning her clothes for blood. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” Her voice came out like a series of hiccups. When I tried to unfasten her seatbelt, she said, “No, I can do that. You help Lily.”
My sister was even paler than Mom. Her hands were clasped over her belly and she looked as if she was going to throw up. Beside her, SJ held a tissue to his bleeding forehead while he punched 911 into his cell.
When he’d told emergency services where we were, he hung up and yelled, “What the fuck, Dad?” He stormed around to Lily’s side of the car to help her out. Leaving him to care for my sister, I unfastened Mom’s seatbelt.
“Can you get out?” I asked.
She nodded, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. I caught her before she hit the ground. She mumbled something about checking to make sure Steven was okay.
“I’ll do that. You can wait in the other car with SJ and Lily.”
As I eased her into its passenger seat, she started to cry. “He went crazy. I told him to slow down but he wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s okay, Mom, I’ll take care of him.”
I hurried back to Steven, who was slumped over the wheel. From a distance he looked unconscious but up close his shoulders were shaking with sobs.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“Sondra,” he murmured. “I almost killed her. And Lily. And my own so7;t lis8221;
“They’re all fine,” I assured him, hoping it was true. “What about you?”
“Me? That woman is driving me crazy.”
For one awful moment I thought he was talking about Mom. Then I realized he was talking about the misty ghost of Elowyn.
“Did she appear to you?” When he shook his head, I asked, “Did you fall asleep at the wheel? Were you driving in your sleep again?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know what happened. It was like—I couldn’t control my own body. Like someone else was driving—trying to crash the car.” He covered his face with his hands. “I’m going mad, aren’t I?”
“No.” The same thing had happened to me when I’d chased Elowyn and almost ran onto a busy road before Casper stopped me.
“You’re just being kind,” he said. “But I know I’m going crazy.” Then he started talking about being possessed. He was still babbling when the police arrived. I managed shut him up and by some miracle he answered their questions coherently.
Lily and SJ were taken to the emergency room. The wrecked car was towed away and I headed for home with Mom and Steven. They’d both refused to go to hospital and, considering Steven’s mental condition, it was a wise move. Trouble was, on the way home he became hysterical, ranting about Elowyn and the crone and how one or both of them were trying to kill him. Mom insisted we take him to Oak Lodge, which was one of her favorite charities and much too exclusive to be called a mental hospital.
Situated in an area of farms and rolling hills, the facility nestled in gardens manicured to perfection. There were three buildings, none more than two stories high. It looked more like a fancy resort than a hospital. Reception continued the resort theme with plush carpet and armchairs instead of those thin plastic seats beloved by hospitals. The woman behind the desk had a voice pitched just right to sooth frazzled nerves. She suggested we make ourselves comfortable while she informed Dr. Montgomery we’d arrived.
Dr. Montgomery was a tall, elegant woman who made no attempt to hide her graying hair or crow’s feet. Despite being well into middle age, her skin glowed with good health. The bright intelligent eyes behind her glasses conveyed sympathy as well as strength.
Steven was admitted immediately—one of the perks of being married to a woman who made large donations to the institute—and assured that his stay at Oak Lodge would be confidential. Even so, Mom insisted he use a false name. After completing the paperwork, she accompanied him and Dr. Montgomery down a wide and very quiet corridor. Ten minutes ticked by and when Mom didn’t return, I decided to take a jog around the gardens.
I’d been neglecting my fitness lately and it was good to get into the rhythm of pounding pavement again. My breath misted on the air, making me long for San Diego sun. Soon I was sweating and my heart thumped, pumping blood all the way down to my chilly toes. I wondered how the Angel Awards were going. When I’d tried to summon Casper back at Hampton House, he hadn’t responded. Not a good sign. I considered pretending to sprain my ankle and sprawl on the ground calling for help. Nah, not a good look for a tough paranormal investigator. Had to think of my reputation. I kept jogging, enjoying the exercise until I heard someone whistling “Weekend in New England.”
Casper sauntered from behind some shrubs. I stopped jogging and resisted the urge to jump up and down for joy that he hadn’t won an Angel Award yet. Instead I did a few stretches while my heart rate returned to normal. Well, as normal as it ever is when Casper’s around.
“How were the awards?” I asked.
“Ongoing.”
“Oh…” I tried not to look disappointed. “Has your category been announced?”
He shook his head. “My category might not come up for days.”
“Days? How long do these awards go on?”
“They’ve been known to last for months. Unlike the Oscars, angels’ acceptance speeches have no time limit. And the MC, Gandhi, keeps taking time out to meditate.”
So I might be on tenterhooks for months wondering whether I’d lose my guardian angel. Still, it wasn’t all about me. I should think of Casper. He deserved to win.
“By the way,” I said pushing away the thought of Casper leaving, “did you know Mr. Hampton died?”
“I heard.”
“Did he go up there?” I pointed to the sky.
Casper’s mouth quirked. “Were you hoping he’d gone somewhere else?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I asked. Mom’s worried he might be haunting Hampton House.”
“So why are you asking me? You’ve been to Hampton House. Did your toe itch?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean his ghost isn’t hanging around on the property. Ghosts can come and go.”
He buttoned his jacket, apparently against the cold, although I was pretty sure angels weren’t much affected by temperatures. “You can tell your mom she won’t be bothered by Mr. Hampton.”
“Please don’t tell me he went straight to Heaven.”
“All I can say is that he’s no longer in this dimension.”
“Good.” We walked in silence until I became aware of the moonlight pendant, which I’d worn since Casper left it in my room. It seemed to have grown warmer in his presence. I pulled it out from under my sweater, intending to return it to him.
“No.” Casper put his hand on mine to stop me unfastening the chain. His skin was warm as a summer breeze. Instinctively I curled my fingers around his. We stood there, neither of us moving, fingers entwined like lovers. Around us life went on. Leaves fell from the branches, a bird called to its mate, the grass continued to grow, but for us time stopped.
“Allegra,” he whispered.
Thunder rumbled overhead. Uh-oh.
I sprang away from him. “Was that a warning from the Powers-That-Be?”
Instf answering, he said, “Keep the pendant.”
“Is that allowed?” I glanced anxiously at the gathering clouds.
“As far as I know, there isn’t a rule about pendants.”
I tucked it beneath my sweater. The moonlight was as warm as Casper’s fingers—a little reminder of what might have been if the thunder hadn’t rumbled at just the wrong moment.
When my phone rang, I wondered whether the Powers-That-Be were responsible for that too.
Lily said, “Can you pick us up from the hospital?”
“I thought you were in labor.”
“It was a false alarm. I’m fine and the doctor’s put three stitches i
n SJ’s head so he’s good to go too. Where are you? No one answered Mom’s landline. Is it off the hook again?”
I didn’t want to tell her we were at Oak Lodge just in case the media was listening in to my cell. I wasn’t sure they could do that, but why take chances? After promising I’d explain everything when I saw her, I headed toward the main building intending to tell Mom that Lily wasn’t in labor. Casper walked with me. As we approached the doors to Reception, he said, “Have you spoken to Wanda yet?”
Huh? Where did that come from? “Actually I’ve been a bit busy, what with Mr. Hampton dying and the rest of the Hamptons being haunted.”
“Wanda’s your best friend.”
“Yeah, so she’ll understand.”
Mom was still with Dr. Montgomery and Steven. She didn’t want to be disturbed. After leaving a message with Reception telling her where I’d be, I headed off to pick up Lily and SJ. Casper went back to the awards, so I had time alone in the car to think. I could’ve thought about lots of things—Casper, Mom, Steven, Elowyn, the case—but I thought about Wanda. Go figure.
The idea of Casper having the hots for her was plainly ridiculous, especially after our recent encounter in the garden of Oak Lodge. So why was he pestering me to contact her? Was she in trouble? Did I owe her rent? We shared an apartment in San Diego and though I hadn’t been there much lately, I was pretty sure my rent was paid up until the end of the month. So that left one thing. Casper thought Wanda could help me with the case. I wasn’t sure why he thought that, but as soon as I pulled into the hospital parking lot, I called her.
Wanda works at a store that sells crystals, candles, Tarot cards and stuff. She’d rather be a full-time witch but she’s not very good at it. Her spells either backfire or refuse to work at all.
She was in the store when I called. It was a slow day and she had plenty of time to talk.
“When are you coming home?” she asked after I’d told her about Scotland and she’d told me about her latest dates.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Bit of a problem with the Hamptons.”
“Situation normal.”
“Not quite. They’re dying during episodes of sleepwalking.” I went on to explain the situation and describe the crone I’d seen at The Hollows. Despite Wanda’s dismal track record as a practicing witch, she knew quite a lot about the paranormal. I continued, “There’s also a misty young ghost that has a connection to the crone.”
Wanda interrupted. “Is the crone a ghost?”
“Not a misty one, but my toe itches when I’m near her so she must be the solid kind.”
“And she lives at The Hollows? Kind of like a hermit?”
“Yeah. Know anything about her?”
“I might. What’s her name?”
“Sorry. I only know the name of misty ghost. Elowyn Hampton. She was married to Steven Twenty—” as I’d begun calling him, “—back in the sixteen hundreds.”
“Elowyn,” murmured Wanda. “And she lived during the sixteen hundreds? Hmm. What was her maiden name?”
“Penrose.”
“Elowyn Penrose! Great gremlins!” she said, using one of her favorite sayings. “Do you know who she is?”
“Obviously not.” I held my breath, waiting for her to tell me.
There was a gasp, as though she’d had a nasty shock, but it had nothing to do with Elowyn. “My boss just arrived. She wasn’t supposed to be here today. Call you back. Bye.”
Chapter Nine
Lily and SJ wanted to go straight to Oak Lodge to see Steven but one phone call to Mom convinced them they’d be better off going home. Steven had been sedated and wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone until morning. Naturally Mom insisted on staying at Oak Lodge overnight. I’m not sure that was common practice, but they weren’t likely to argue with one of their major fundraisers whose husband had just inherited thirty million plus a mansion.
After dropping Lily and SJ at their place I went back to Mom’s, where I ate the Chinese food I’d picked up on the way. I wasn’t all that hungry but I forced down half the vegetables, rice and spicy beef before stowing the rest in the fridge. After checking my cell for messages from Wanda—none, but I knew she’d call when she had information—I helped myself to Steven’s best brandy and wandered outside.
It was dark and freezing. Above me the sky was studded with pale stars. The moon was as big and round as a spotlight. In honor of the Angel Awards? Right now it might be shining on Casper as he made his acceptance speech.
Would he thank me? Not that it really mattered. Not if he was leaving me. I made up my mind then and there that if he won, if we had to say our final goodbye, I’d tell him exactly how I felt about him. I’d tell him how he’d brightened each day, comforting me when I was sad or upset about a case. Laughing with me at jokes only we shared. I’d tell him how much I’d appreciated him always treating me with respect and compassion. Tears chilled my cheeks. The brandy was making me maudlin and sentimental. Get over it, Allegra.
From inside the house came the sound of my ringtone. I dashed inside and answered my cell.
Wanda gave me no chance to say hello. She babbled excitedly, “Elowyn Penrose was one of the greatest witches of her time—the second greatest witch ever.”
“Steven is related to a witch? Oh, that’s just priceless. He’ll be horrified. Mom will be horrified.”
“At least it’ll stop her hating the paranormal.” Wanda’s an optimist. “Anyway, do you want to hear Elowyn’s history?”
“Sure.”
“The Penrose family lives in Cornwall. Has for thousands of years. They’re rumored to be related to Morgan Le Fay, but no one knows for sure. Well, you know that Elowyn lived during the sixteen hundreds, but did you know she had a sister?”
Aha. Everything was beginning to make sense.
“Elowyn and Demelza were both talented witches. They each began their training at five years old, which is not uncommon for especially gifted witches. By all accounts they were excellent students, respectful and obedient, until their father died. After that they became difficult to control. Lots of mischievous pranks. Typical teenager stuff. The Cornish Council of Witches decided that for the good of everyone the sisters would have to be separated. They were sent to live with relatives at opposite ends of Cornwall. Today that’s barely a few hours’ drive but travel on horseback took a lot longer. Witches can’t really fly, especially not on broomsticks. No one wants a broom handle wedgie.
“Anyway, Elowyn and Demelza had always been very close. They communicated telepathically and hatched a plan to escape their relatives and be together again. It succeeded, but once they were free they had nowhere to go. They couldn’t stay in Cornwall for fear of being found, so they headed for the nearest port and stowed away on the first ship, which happened to be going to the New World or whatever America was called back then. They ended up in Boston, where Elowyn married Steven Richard Hampton the twentieth.”
“So,” I said, “if Elowyn is the misty ghost, then the solid ghost—the crone—must be Demelza.”
“Looks like it.”
“And, if Elowyn was the second greatest witch ever, Demelza was the—?”
“Greatest,” finished Wanda. “Which must have really pissed Elowyn off, since they were identical twins.”
I groaned. “The whole evil twin scenario makes me want to puke.”
“Who said only one of them was evil?”
Two evil twins? I shuddered. Even the soap operas would think that was going too far.
“Now all you have to do,” said Wanda, “is figure out why they’re trying to kill the Hamptons. Meanwhile, I’ll cast a protective spell around the whole family.”
“Thanks,” I said. Although given Wanda’s poor track record, the spell probably wouldn’t work.
After we’d hung upI thought about the whole misty ghost/solid ghost thing. Traditionally, misty ghosts are weaker and less bound to the earthly plane than solid ghosts. But that didn’t mean they were less capable
of holding a grudge, just less capable of doing anything about it after death. Unless they had a twin who happened to be a solid ghost. Had Demelza somehow tampered with Steven’s car? It seemed unlikely, but at the moment it was the best I could come up with. My gut told me that the key to all this was on the pages of Steven Twenty’s diary. So all I had to do was find it.
The next morning I drove Lily and SJ to Oak Lodge. Despite the drama of the previous day, Mom was predictably well-groomed. Her hair was hairdresser neat, and her makeup so subtle you had to look really hard to see the extra concealer beneath her eyes. Apparently one of the perks of being a major fundraiser was using the staff meeting room. Mom was determined to run this family chat like one of her committee meetings. She even had a written agenda.
Did I mention committee meetings give me hives? Oh well, at least the coffee was better than average for a hospital. Everyone had a cup except for Lily, whose orange juice remained untouched while she cast worried glances at SJ.
He slouched in a chair, scruffy as a teenager. “Why can’t I see Dad?”
“He’s sedated,” said Mom, “but there’s no reason you can’t see him after our meeting.”
“Do we have to sit around this fucking table?” said SJ. “There’s only four of us. Can’t we discuss this like a normal family?”
Not on Mom’s watch. She was close to losing it and clinging to a meeting format was her only way of dealing with this out-of-control situation.
“What’s Dad’s condition?” SJ’s voice rose like a frightened child’s. “I want to speak to his doctor.”
“All in good time,” said Mom. “I have Steven’s condition at number two on our agenda.”
“Only number two?” squeaked SJ.
“Easy, SJ.” My skin was already starting to prickle. “Mom, just get on with it.”
“First on the agenda,” said Mom, “is dealing with the media, who have already released pictures of our car accident. I propose we issue a statement saying the car accident was due to Steven having a mild heart attack. Naturally he won’t be able to return to work until the doctors give the all clear. That should cover him for a few weeks.”