“But I’m telling you, it’s impossible!” June said. She turned to Emily. “It’s impossible, isn’t it?”
“Time can be funny when you’re panicking,” Mark suggested.
Emily shook her head. “Yeah, but if anything, time slows down when you’re upset. It doesn’t speed up.”
Mark raised his hands. “There’s no argument here, ladies. You were gone all day.”
June groaned. “Look—I’m not crazy. I can see the clock. I understand the reality of what you’re saying. I’m trying to tell you that, at least to us, we left the house, we made it to the pool room maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, and we were in there for maybe the same amount of time before the hanging bowl fell in the steam room. Then we were locked in there for maybe twenty or thirty minutes. That’s what happened.”
Mark sighed. “And again, I don’t doubt that’s how it seemed to you.” He raised a hand when June opened her mouth. “Let’s not argue about that for now, June. You also said something about someone locking you in there? What did you mean?”
June threw Emily a guilty look. “I mean, I’m not sure. The doors around here close all the time. But someone had to turn the steam on, right? It didn’t just turn on by itself.”
Mark shook his head. “We don’t know that, June. Maybe the mechanism is faulty. I’ll have to ask Mr. Wright to examine it.” He paused. “But if it was someone, who do you suspect?”
June frowned directly at Jim, and he laughed. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“I don’t know, Jim. Why would you?”
His expression darkened, and he took a menacing step toward her. “Are you actually accusing me?”
June lips curled into a snarl, but her expression softened a moment later. She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Jim appeared somewhat mollified, but he turned around and walked across the room, possibly to cool off.
Mark looked back and forth from June to Emily a few times and shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. I can see that it was a traumatic experience for both of you. I’d avoid the steam room for now until we’ve had the door examined.”
June laughed. “Christ! Do you think I’d ever go back in there? Not for all the money in the world.”
Emily shook her head adamantly. “No way.”
They were all quiet. Jim stared out the window at the lawn, Mark absently down at the floor, and June watched Jim. Emily couldn’t help but fidget, twisting her hands. How was this going to play out? Like her experience with the cyclist, she couldn’t find any explanation for the missing time. It seemed useless to try to make sense of it, but that was only her opinion. She didn’t know how the others would deal with it.
“How about a cocktail?” Jim turned around and held up his watch. “It’s five o’clock, after all.”
Mark sneered with something like disgust, but June laughed. “I could use one. What about you, Emily?”
She nodded, and before anyone could stop her, she scooted off the bed and stood up. “I’d love one. A double, if you don’t mind, June.”
Mark looked around at the three of them and threw up his hands. “Fine! But make mine a Manhattan, would you please? I hate gin.”
June and Jim walked out of the room together, laughing already, and Emily followed with Mark. When the others had disappeared down the stairs ahead of them, Mark put a hand on her arm. “Are you really okay? You can tell me if you’re not.”
His expression was earnest, and she blushed at the implication. He clearly understood that she wouldn’t want to seem weak in front of the others.
“I’ll be fine. I am fine, I mean.”
He met her gaze. “Okay. But if you’re not—later, I mean, tell me. I can drive you into town.”
When they reached the sitting room, they found Jim rooting through the small record collection and June making drinks at the bar. Emily tried to decide where to put herself. Sitting on the couch would invite someone to sit next to her—June, preferably—but that might be too obvious. She wasn’t sure June would like that.
Not able to decide, she walked over to the windows that faced the front lawn and peered out at the long, unbroken green. It had been freshly mowed sometime today and was strangely shorn, naked almost. The sight, however, gave her pause. Mr. Wright had claimed he’d been in the back gardens all day, yet this lawn was proof that, at least for a while, he’d been on this side of the house. She and June could have come back during that time, but he’d told Mark and Jim otherwise. But perhaps he’d forgotten.
She heard a loud screech behind her and spun, startled. Jim made a face at everyone. “Sorry. Haven’t used one of these in a while.” He fiddled with the needle on the record player, and a piano sonata started to play. “Not much of a selection, I’m afraid. There’s classical, and there’s classical.”
“It’s nice,” June said, handing him a cocktail. She turned and walked over to Emily with hers, and Emily took it from her gratefully.
“Go easy on that drink,” Mark told her. “You had quite a shock. Heatstroke, at the very least.”
June and she shared an amused glance, and June returned to the bar for the other drinks.
“Say, Emily,” Jim said. “I want to apologize about this morning.”
She almost choked on her drink.
He looked distinctly uncomfortable and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I tried working in the library, and like you said, it was way too dark. Who knows why they put the library in the only dark room in the house. And you’re right—it wouldn’t make sense to bring the stuff in here.” He gestured around the room, with its little coffee and drink tables, but no work surfaces. “Your room is much better. I was thinking we should keep working in there. I mean, if you don’t mind having me come in and out.”
Still surprised, Emily nodded. “Of course. If you think that’s best. I don’t mind moving to your room, if that would be better.”
He laughed. “No way. I’ve been put in the nursery. You should see my bed—tiny, and there are no tables, either. I think you have the biggest room of any of us.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” June said. “How did you score that room, anyway? You should see mine. It’s a shoebox.”
“I’m actually rather surprised by the size of this house in general,” Mark said. “The bedrooms are especially small, even given the time period this place was built. I was expecting a much larger house.”
Jim suddenly walked over to the front window and pointed outside. “Hey, guys. What’s that?”
All of them walked over, and Emily saw something sparkling at the far side of the lawn. It was small and shiny, indistinct at this distance. She hadn’t seen it when she looked out the window earlier, but the light had changed in the last few minutes, so she couldn’t be sure if it was new.
“Maybe a sprinkler? Or a piece of trash?” Mark suggested and took another sip of his drink.
Jim’s eyes lit up. “Or maybe it’s buried treasure!”
June laughed and swatted his arm. “You goof. I’m with Mark. It’s trash. A balloon, I think. One of those foil ones.”
Jim set his drink down. “I’ll go check it out. But I call dibs! If it’s treasure, it’s mine.”
June laughed again, and Jim dashed from the room. They watched him race across the lawn and then bend down. He held it up for them, but it wasn’t clear from this distance what was in his hands. He started walking back toward them and then stopped about halfway across the lawn. He was close enough that Emily could see his expression change as his face turned up and to his right. He stood there for a long moment, his eyes wide. A second later he was running again, and the three of them moved to meet him by the front door.
“I saw her!” he said, his voice high. He looked at Mark and her. “I saw her! Up in your window, Emily, watching me. Let’s go catch her! She can’t get far if we’re quick.”
Without waiting for a response, he bounded up the stairs, and she and
the others, caught up in his excitement, raced after him. She slipped on a stair and banged her knees painfully, but she was right behind the others when Jim unlocked her door and flung it open. He stopped a few feet into her room.
“She’s gone,” he said. He walked farther into the room and peered behind the curtains, then got down on his knees and looked under the bed. He got up again, his face pale and angry. “She was just here. I swear to God.”
“What did you see?” Mark asked. His voice was quiet, serious.
“It was like both of you said. She was standing right there,” he pointed at the spot by the window, “watching me on the lawn. I don’t know what made me look up here—she must have moved or something. She was right there!” He pointed again. “Then she turned around, and I couldn’t see her anymore. That’s when I came back inside.”
“What did she look like?” June asked.
Jim hesitated, and Emily sympathized with him. The woman was hard to describe. In addition to seeing her at a distance and at an angle, at least in her case, she’d been in sight for only a few seconds at most, and nothing was very distinct about her appearance.
“She was younger—twenties, thirties, maybe. Shoulder-length, or longer, dark hair. Pale. I don’t really remember what she was wearing, or I didn’t see it clearly, anyway. A dark shirt, maybe.” He shook his head. “Guys, she can’t have gotten far. Let’s find her. She must be somewhere in the house.”
Mark touched his shoulder. “Jim, there’s no way she could have left this room. We would have seen her leave. She didn’t have time to go anywhere.”
“Well, what other explanation do you have?” Jim said, almost shouting. “She can’t have disappeared.” He looked at Emily. “Is there another way out of here? A hidden passage to the attic or something?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“Then she can’t be far. Did you lock your room, June?”
“It locks on its own, Jim, just like all of the bedrooms.”
“Let’s check the bathroom,” Jim said, pushing past them.
Emily and the others shared a glance and followed him out into the hall. He flung the bathroom door wide, turned on the switch, saw an empty room, and continued down the hall to the next door.
“This is your room, June?”
She nodded.
“Open it.”
June sighed and pulled out her keys, fiddling with the key ring long enough that he grabbed it from her and opened the door himself. Once again, they watched him riffle the curtains and check under the bed, his frantic frustration clearly mounting.
Again, Mark stopped him before he charged out into the hall. “Jim, calm down, please. We’re not going to find her.”
“What do you mean? Of course we’ll find her!” His eyes narrowed. “Unless she slipped outside while we were in your room, Emily. But we would have heard her, right?”
“That’s not what I mean, Jim,” Mark said, but Jim was obviously not listening.
“Let’s go check our bedrooms, and then, if we have to, we can check the attic. That would make the most sense, right? That she’s been hiding up there all this time?” His eyes were wild, almost rolling in their sockets.
“Jim!” Mark said, this time grabbing both his shoulders. He made Jim meet his eyes. “She’s not here.”
Jim looked mutinous, his face flushing red, and for a moment, Emily was certain he would push Mark away. He shivered all over, and then the anger died in his eyes. His body relaxed, and a moment later he appeared embarrassed, but calm.
The four of them stood and caught their breath, all of them breathing hard from running. Emily’s heart was still racing, and the others seemed shaken.
She took the opportunity to peer around June’s room, curious. She’d seen inside, briefly, when June was moving in, but this was her first time past the doorway. It was less than half the size of her room, with no sitting area, a much-smaller bed, a tiny wardrobe, a night table, and a single chair. It didn’t even have a carpet on the floor.
After a few moments, June walked across the room and stood staring out her window. She stayed there by herself for a long moment, her back to the others. Finally, she turned around. Her face was pale, haggard in this light. “I need to be alone for a while. Please.”
Mark and Jim shared a glance before walking out into the hall. Emily stared at her, wanting to object, wanting more than anything to think of a way to make her feel better.
“Please, Emily. Give me some space, okay? I need to be alone.”
Realizing she couldn’t say anything, she nodded dumbly and left, closing the door after her.
The men were standing at the top of the stairs, their faces grave.
“Will she be okay?” Mark asked.
Jim’s laugh was bitter. “What do you think? She was locked in a steam room all day, and now this, this—” he gestured feebly at Emily’s room, “this whatever it was. I’d be surprised if she didn’t pack her bags and leave.”
Emily’s stomach dropped, and she stared at June’s door, desperately fighting the urge to go talk her into staying.
Mark sighed. “Maybe she’d be right. It might not be safe here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asked, his voice rising.
Mark met his eyes. “It means exactly what I said, Jim. Nothing more.”
Jim laughed again. “You mean that the house is haunted? Are you seriously telling me that, Mark?” He looked at her. “Do you think it’s haunted?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what I think. But you have to admit that something strange is going on.”
Jim pointed at her and then at Mark. “Listen. I don’t know what all of you are talking about. Everything that’s happened has a logical explanation.”
This time Mark laughed. “Then please, explain it to me, Jim. How do two perfectly sane women lose track of most of a day? How do doors that should stay open, close on their own? How does a strange woman appear and disappear in front of our eyes?”
Jim’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Do you hear yourself, Mark? Christ, you sound like a kook! There is no such thing as ghosts, for God’s sake.”
Mark shook his head. “I never claimed there was. And might I add that you’re the one using the words haunted and ghosts, Jim.”
Jim let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’re not making any sense. Either it’s haunted or it’s not—it can’t be both.”
Emily had taken a couple of steps away from them, tired of this conversation. None of it mattered, anyway. The house and everything that had happened was inexplicable. Perhaps that was what Mark was trying to say, but Jim would never be able to hear it.
“I’m going to lie down for a while, guys. I might stay in my room for the night and read.”
They both looked at her, seeming surprised, almost, that she was still here.
“Can I have my keys back, Jim?”
He frowned and dug them out of a pocket, also removing the thing he’d picked up from the lawn—a piece of a Mylar balloon. The three of them grinned when he held it up, and Emily took her keys back.
“I’ll try to get up earlier tomorrow so we can work, Jim,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s fine. Sleep as late as you like. No reason to kill ourselves over it.”
“Good night, then, if I don’t see you later,” Mark said.
His eyes were dark and concerned, and she tried to reassure him by smiling. “Good night.”
Her room was still surprisingly bright, dazzling her in the doorway, and when she closed the door behind her, she’d never felt so relieved to be alone.
Chapter Eight
Emily wasn’t sure where the sound was coming from. She’d been sitting by the table, trying to read one of the journals, and at first the pounding seemed to come from below. The house was well insulated, so even if the sitting room was technically right below her, she’d never heard anyone down there before. She cocked her head, trying to locate where she
heard it, and then it became a little louder. It was coming from the wall she shared with the bathroom.
She got to her feet and walked closer to it, pressing her ear against the velvet wallpaper. Listening carefully, she detected a kind of knocking sound—rhythmic and even. It seemed a little like something was hitting the wall directly on the other side, over and over. She glanced at the clock—nearly midnight. She’d heard June go in and out of the bathroom about an hour ago, but nothing since. Still, she might be in there again, doing who knew what to thump on the wall.
Maybe she’s in trouble, Emily thought, then shook her head. The pounding was too rhythmic. If June was knocking on the wall for help, not only would she be calling out, but she also wouldn’t be using the same, even pattern. Emily looked over at her bedroom door and hesitated. She should go see what was making that sound, but she didn’t want to. She avoided using that bathroom as much as possible, and after the day they’d all had, she wasn’t ready for something else to happen. Still, it could be a pipe or gas line rattling in the wall, and they might need to let someone know about it.
She walked toward her bedroom door, and just as she reached for the knob, someone knocked on it. She paused, jerking her hand back in fright.
“Emily? Hello? It’s me, June. Are you still awake?”
Emily opened the door, and June jumped a little, putting her hand to her chest. “Jesus, that was fast. Did you run over here?”
“I was coming out.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you going somewhere? To the bathroom?”
Emily shook her head. “Not to go, but to see what that thumping was.”
“What thumping?” June asked, entering her room.
“The one coming from the bathroom,” she said, and then stopped, listening. She could no longer hear it. She shook her head. “Never mind.”
June smiled and then headed over to the chairs, sitting down in the one Emily had been in and glancing at the open journal on the table. She gestured at it. “So how is this Lewis stuff? Interesting?”
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