Chapter 18
For the second night in a row, Michael found himself tossing and turning, not because he was unable to sleep, but because when he did, his dreams were full of frightening and troubling images. Even though he’d spent a good portion of his life in the company of spirits of the dead, they very rarely haunted him in his dreams. At times, it seemed that sleep was his only refuge, the one place in the world where the dead couldn’t find him.
Not anymore.
He knew it wasn’t actually the ghost of Sterling Hall inside his mind, but that didn’t make the visuals any less disturbing. Because he still hadn’t gotten a good look at the man who had built the manor, his brain had taken what little it knew about Hall and used it to construct a woeful and rather sinister character to torment him in what should have been a peaceful rest.
In his first dream, he’d been walking alone in the woods behind the manor, when he again stumbled upon Sterling’s grave. Instead of an old weathered headstone, however, a black and gold plaque had been set at the head of an open tomb, containing a single black, gold, and crimson casket. The plaque read, In Death, In Life, In Love. Do Not Open the Coffin.
Although Conscious Michael wouldn’t even think of touching the casket, much less opening it, Dream Michael possessed no such inhibitions. Without a second thought, he leapt down into the grave and lifted the lid. The coffin was empty, except for a single red rose. Michael reached down to take the flower, but as soon as his fingers grazed the stem, the rose began to melt, dissolving into a puddle of hot, thick blood that began to fill the casket. The form of a body began to rise out of the blood, but the dream ended before Michael could identify it.
In his second dream, Luke and JT had discovered a body in the parking lot of his apartment complex back in Dallas. The body belonged to a young woman, possibly Joanna Stanton, wearing a white dress. Her long dark hair was stringy and matted, and she’d clearly been dead for at least a few days. Luke theorized that she’d been hit in the head with a brick. Insisting that it was Michael’s responsibility to take care of her, Luke and JT left her inside his apartment. She didn’t bother him at first, but as he was getting ready for bed, she got up and began to wander around his apartment, moaning and crying.
His last dream found him back at Dock Square. He and Kate were enjoying the afternoon on the bridge when someone began to scream. Michael bolted across the bridge and back into the square, where he searched desperately for whoever was in trouble. He finally came across the same young woman lying dead on the river bank, a thin trail of blood dripping from her mouth and onto the damp sand beneath her.
Michael tried calling for help, but no one was around, so he retreated back to the bridge where he’d left Kate. That was when Sterling Hall finally made his debut. He was tall, with light brown hair and piercing black eyes, and he wore a black suit. He stood behind Kate, pulling her hair back, and whispering into her ear.
When he sensed Michael approaching, he looked up and sneered. Then, he reached into his pocket, pulled out Marian’s garnet necklace, and fastened it around Kate’s neck.
It was only then that Michael finally opened his eyes. Weary of ghosts and gory nightmares, Michael sought solace once again in the kitchen. Moonlight spilled through the large window above the sink, flooding the room with silvery blue shadows. Like the night before, Michael filled a crystal glass up with tap water (even though there was a pitcher of filtered water in the refrigerator) and sipped at it until his head was a little clearer and his thoughts a little purer.
One more night, he told himself. Just one more night in this place, and then you’ll be home.
He’d just drained the glass when a timid movement on the far side of the room caught his eye. Emily Drake stood in the doorway, looking small and mousey with her messy reddish-brown hair and long white nightgown. Michael wondered how long she’d been standing there.
“Oh. Um...” he mumbled, unsure of how to address her. “Hi.”
She pursed her mouth as though she was trying to think of something to say, but she remained silent.
Suddenly feeling like he needed to explain his presence in the kitchen at almost three in the morning, he said, “I uh, I was just getting a drink of water. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Emily spoke in a hushed yet high-pitched voice. “I heard something.”
“That was probably me,” Michael told her.
“It wasn’t,” Emily replied with a certainty that sent a dreadful chill down Michael’s spine.
“Oh. Okay then,” Michael said, wondering how awkward it would be if he just walked out of the room. Emily’s curious stare, however, seemed to prevent him from moving.
“Is it true?” she asked.
“Is what true?”
“That you can see them.”
Michael bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t need to ask who she meant by them. What he didn’t know was whether or not to answer her honestly. Although he could guarantee her that there was at least one restless spirit haunting Stanton Hall, he wasn’t sure what her mother would think. Carolyn still adamantly rejected the idea of ghosts, and Michael knew that the last thing she wanted was for her daughter to be scared of something that didn’t exist. Then again, she had said that she wanted Michael to assure Emily that there weren’t any ghosts inside the manor. While he couldn’t do that in any sort of good conscience, he could at least be honest with her about his so-called “gift.”
“Yeah. It’s true,” he replied.
He expected her to interrogate him about Sterling, about whether or not he’d seen him, or if they’d been able to make any contact at all. Instead, she asked, “Do they scare you?”
That was a complicated question. No, they’d never scared him, at least not in the Hollywood horror movie sense. They startled him constantly. A few of them had made him uncomfortable. A few had yelled. Trevor had just about scared him out of his wits the first time he saw him. But it hadn’t been a fear like the one he presumed Emily meant.
Of course, after the way Sterling Hall had made all of them feel tonight, he couldn’t blame her for being wary of him.
“Not really,” he answered. “They just look like people to me. True, some of them are a little more... dramatic than others. But they’re no different than they were in life.”
Emily looked like she’d never considered that. “But what if they weren’t good people in life?”
“Then I’d probably be a little scared of them.” Or a lot, his subconscious added. But he was supposed to be reassuring her, so he kept that thought to himself. “But you’ve got to remember that they can’t hurt you.” Another white lie. But truthfully, Trevor throwing Gavin into a wall was a pretty rare exception. Even if a violent spirit did appear, it took a tremendous amount of energy just to move a small object. Tossing a full-grown man across the room was just about unheard of.
Emily seemed to accept that. “Have you seen him?” she asked, surely meaning Sterling Hall.
“I haven’t gotten a very good look at him yet,” Michael confessed. “But he has... contacted us.” He guessed that was the word that Luke would use.
Emily’s lower lip trembled. “Why is he still here?”
Now that one, Michael couldn’t answer.
“Your guess is as good as mine. We haven’t really been able to get a lot out of him. But since he spent so much of his life loving Joanna, I can only - ”
Before he could finish, a shadow crossed the room, accompanied by faint footsteps against the hardwood floor. The spirit of Sterling Hall appeared, looking somber and despondent as he slowly made his way across the dark kitchen. At first, Michael thought he might be coming to talk to him, but then he noticed that Sterling’s eyes were fixed on something and nothing, like he was staring into space or lost in his own thoughts. Michael wondered if the ghost even noticed them standing there at all.
“Do you see him?” Emily’s voice was barely a whisper. Michael nodded.
Without another word, the
young girl fled the kitchen.
The sound of her retreating footsteps snapped Sterling out of his stupor. Silently, he looked around the room, like he was trying to remember where he was or why he’d come to the kitchen in the first place. Michael observed the ghost standing before him in the pale glow of moonlight.
He didn’t look like the Sterling Hall from his dream at all. Although not very tall, only five foot eight or so, he was handsome. His dark hair was thick with only a slight scattering of gray amidst the black and the only sign of aging on his still-youthful face were the crows’ feet around his blue eyes. What surprised Michael the most, however, was how impeccably dressed Sterling appeared to be. He didn’t know much about fashion trends in the 1800s, but he was willing to bet that black trousers and a dark tail coat were usually reserved for special occasions.
Michael had half a mind to slip right past Sterling, all the while pretending not to notice him, but the look on the ghost’s face, like he’d never been more lost or alone in his life, or existence, forced him to reconsider. As miserable as that last encounter had been, Michael couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Sterling Hall.
“Are you alright?” Michael asked him.
Sterling turned his head and looked Michael right in the eye.
“You’re speaking to me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Uh... yeah. I guess I am.”
“That’s refreshing. Do you know how long it’s been since anyone has bothered to approach me at all?”
“Yeah. That sort of happens when... well, you know.”
“I most certainly do not know,” Sterling retorted. “These men and women intrude upon my property and privacy without so much as a second thought. Foul, disgusting, downright cowardly. Why, not one of them has the decency to even look me in the eye.”
Okay... Michael thought. Not quite the conversation he’d been expecting to have, but he could go with it. “Well maybe they just don’t know you’re there.”
“How couldn’t they know when I’m standing there before their eyes?” Sterling asked, a bewildered look in his eye.
“Because you’re - ” Michael paused mid-sentence.
He didn’t know.
Sterling Hall didn’t know that he was dead. But how? How could he not realize? Did he truly believe he’d been alive for the past century and a half?
Michael had met ghosts who hadn’t realized they were dead before. It was sad, but he’d never thought it was his place to tell them. Usually, he just let them pass by and hoped that they’d eventually find their way to the next world on their own. But he’d never known a spirit to exist in ignorance for almost one hundred and fifty years. It was simply unfathomable. And yet, the look on Sterling’s face was unmistakable. In his mind, he was still very much alive.
Did that mean it was Michael’s responsibility to tell him the truth? He wasn’t sure, mostly because he had no idea how Sterling would react. He might accept it, thank Michael for his time, and move on, but if he was as moody and cantankerous as he seemed earlier that night, that probably wasn’t the most likely scenario.
“Never mind,” Michael finally said. “I don’t know.”
“Well, in that case, I trust that you are a decent young man and will see to it that all of your companions leave my house at once.”
“I know that’s what you want, but to be honest, it’s not really that simple - ”
“Of course it’s that simple, and I will tell you why. My wife will be home any moment now and she expects and deserves her home to be free of trespassers and burglars.”
“Your... wife?” Michael asked.
“Yes. My Joanna. She’s coming home from a long trip and I want everything to be perfect, just as it was before you and your kind showed up.”
“So Joanna is coming... here?”
“Of course. Where else would she go? I daresay, for such a courteous young man, you’re not very quick, are you?”
No, apparently he wasn’t, because he wasn’t comprehending a word that Sterling Hall was saying to him. When he said that Joanna was coming home, did that mean her spirit had been away and would return to Sterling? Were they together in death? Or did his delusions extend even beyond his inability to accept his passing?
Michael intended to question Sterling further and try to explain to him why neither he nor Luke nor any of the other “trespassers” would be clearing out any time soon, but with one last condescending sneer, Sterling said, “I want all of you, every last one, gone by morning.” Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving Michael alone and bewildered in the soft glow of moonlight.
Chapter 19
“So let me get this straight,” Luke said as he paced back and forth across his bedroom. “This guy croaked almost one hundred and fifty years ago and he still hasn’t figured out that he’s dead?”
“That’s the impression I got,” Michael answered. He, Kate, Gavin, and the rest of the Cemetery Tours crew were all gathered inside Luke’s room. Michael had only intended to tell Luke about his conversation with Sterling, but Luke, being Luke, had insisted on filming. Thirty minutes and several questions later, what was supposed to be a simple conversation between colleagues had turned into a regular pajama party... and all recorded for national television.
All things considered, Michael probably should have waited until morning instead of waking everybody up in the middle of the night, but he hadn’t been thinking straight.
Not that any of them seemed to mind. In fact, Michael was willing to bet that Luke enjoyed being woken up to talk about anything weird, be it hauntings or lizard people or the boogeyman.
Oh God, please don’t let those things exist, Michael thought sleepily, as Luke continued to wander anxiously around the room.
“And he said Joanna is still here?” Luke asked.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much his word is worth. If he’s deluded himself into thinking he’s still alive, then it’s also possible that he hasn’t come to terms with Joanna’s death.”
“So we’re talking about a spirit who’s essentially a head case,” Luke translated.
“Is that even possible?” Kate asked. “I mean, going insane always has something to do with the brain. When a person dies, it’s because their body can’t function anymore for whatever reason-- injury, illness, old age -- but the brain dies with it.”
“What’s your point, Kate?” Gavin asked. He was the only one of the bunch who looked like he’d rather be back in bed than filming a late night paranormal pow-wow.
“My point is when you think about it logically, any sort of mental illness, or any malady at all, also dies with the body.”
“When you think about it logically, none of this stuff should exist, period. But it does,” Gavin reminded her. “I think that means that just about anything is possible.”
“Even mental illness among those who no longer possess a brain. Interesting,” JT remarked.
“I don’t think it’s mental. I think it’s emotional,” Luke said. “It’s true a damaged brain dies with the body, but a damaged soul never perishes. And what’s more damaging on a soul than heartbreak? Or the death of the one person you cherish above all others, even yourself?”
“That’s uncharacteristically deep of you, Luke,” Michael said.
“What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”
“Bull,” Gail muttered. “You just have a flare for dramatics and a secret Lifetime addiction.”
“That second part is not true,” Luke insisted. “But think about it. Aren’t most of the ghosts that hang around just as equally damaged?”
“Yeah, but they’re not all equally delusional,” Peter said. “I still think this guy is hiding something. That’s the only rational explanation.”
“I don’t think so. I think he really loved her. Besides, we’ve met other spirits who weren’t aware that they’d died. Think of all those civil war soldiers who still patrol battle grounds, or haunted bars where ghosts still play poker,” JT
said.
“There’s a big difference between this and an eternal poker game. Those guys aren’t taking their deaths or losses out on other people.”
“It’s still not impossible,” Luke told him before addressing Michael again. “Did he say anything about the necklace?”
“No, but he did call us trespassers and burglars.”
“Ouch,” Luke remarked dryly.
“Do you think he was talking about Marian?” Kate asked.
“He could have been talking about anyone: Marian for taking the necklace, or Carolyn and Emily for taking the house,” Luke said.
Emily. The sound of her name reminded Michael of his brief meeting with the teen in the kitchen.
“I saw her,” Michael said.
“Who? Joanna?” Luke asked.
“No, Emily. I was talking to her in the kitchen right before Sterling showed up.”
“What did she say?”
“Not a lot. Just asked me if it was true, if I could really see them. I think she’s like Kate, a sensitive. She could tell when Sterling entered the room.”
“What if it’s more than that?” Peter asked. “What if that girl reminds him of his wife? That would explain why she’s so scared of him that she asked you to come here.”
“Pete, that’s - ” Luke began, but Peter cut him off.
“Look, I know you all think I’m nuts and that this is just the most romantic story ever, but I’m telling you, I feel it. Something is not right in this house. This Sterling guy is a whack job and now he’s preying on innocent girls - ”
BOOM!
A violent burst of energy shook the room. Gail and Gavin both cried out. Kate reached out for Michael, who looked around frantically for any sign of Sterling or Joanna, but there was none.
“Pete, you really need to watch what you’re saying, man,” Luke told him. “Come on, you know better than to go around accusing spirits of stuff like that. Even if you think you have reason to believe it.”
Between Worlds (Cemetery Tours Book 2) Page 14