"She found a ring near one of the spas. Says it's Fabian's wedding ring." Helen pulled it from her pocket.
"It is. Or one like it." Megan sneered. "How ironic that he'd lose the one thing of value that actually belonged to him."
"I take it you didn't care for the man?"
"That's putting it mildly." She took a sip of tea, then set her cup in its saucer. "Actually, I didn't have feelings for him one way or the other when Mom brought him home. He seemed nice enough, and after a while I actually began to think he might be okay. Then he up and left just like the others."
"Your mother seems to think he was different." Helen pocketed the ring again.
"My mother doesn't know squat about men. I just hope I haven't inherited her bad luck."
"I don't think bad luck is inherent. It all comes down to the choices we make." Helen reached for one of the triangles of fresh scones. Hillary had spread each of them with thick cream and topped them with a dollop of jam.
"True, but I am afraid her methods may have rubbed off on me. We do tend to live what we learn. I made a rotten choice the first time out. Now I'm afraid to try again."
"You mean with Peter."
Megan's gaze wandered down to the boat ramp, where Peter had stripped to the waist and was washing down Paddy's Pride.
"Yes, with Peter. He's great now, but I keep wondering how long it will last. Is he really interested in me or the money I stand to inherit when Grandpa dies? Or is he just feeling responsible for me because I'm pregnant? It's so hard to know."
"I imagine that's true. He seems very nice."
"Yes, but is it all an act?"
"How long have you known each other?"
"Since grade school. I think he felt sorry for me when Steve left me. We were engaged and I got pregnant. Good old Steve wanted me to get an abortion. Said he wasn't ready for a family. I wouldn't go along with him, so he left.
"Peter was furious. He and Steve were friends at the time. He came over to apologize for Steve one night and offered to help me through the pregnancy. He's even taking birthing classes with me. Sometimes I think he's more excited about the baby than I am. Do you know he keeps a picture of the ultrasound in his wallet? He plans to be in the delivery room when the baby is born. I'm not sure how I feel about that. We've never been, you know, intimate with each other. Peter doesn't believe in sex outside of marriage."
"Peter sounds like a wise man."
Megan smiled. "Yes. Wise, wonderful, devoted. Almost too good to be true."
The object of their discussion turned toward them and waved. They waved back.
"J.B. is like that, devoted to the core," Helen mused. "If he has any flaws, it's wanting to protect me. Sometimes I feel like he loves me too much."
"Yes. That's it exactly. Smother love. Peter is too attentive. See there. He's coming up to check on me and to make sure I don't need anything. I suppose I should feel thankful he cares so much"
"Thankful, yes, but I think it's acceptable and appropriate to set boundaries. Let him know when you're feeling smothered, and tell him you need breathing room."
"I think you may have something there. It's been better these last couple of weeks with him working out here on the island. I've enjoyed the time alone. But I've missed him too."
"Talk to him soon. I made the mistake of waiting until I was ready to explode before I finally had the nerve to tell J.B. I needed time away from him. He understood and has been sensitive to that ever since."
"I will. Thanks."
Helen leaned back and watched Peter jog toward them. "Megan, was Peter here last Monday when Fabian came out to see Paddy?"
"I'm sure he was. Why?"
"Did he say anything about it?"
"Just that Fabian had been there. Why don't you ask him?" Megan tipped her face up for a kiss as Peter approached. "Hi, sweetheart."
"How are my two favorite people?" Peter dropped a light kiss on her cheek and patted her stomach. "How's it going, little guy?" Turning to Helen he said, "I read that they can hear us. I want to make sure he knows how much we love him."
"I do think unborn babies have a very real sense of what is going on around them. I used to talk to my twins while I was pregnant."
He tossed her an infectious grin. "Did you want to ask me something?"
"I was just wondering if you knew anything about Fabian's visit to the island last Monday."
"Not much. I saw him come in and leave, but that's about it. I was painting the new staff quarters."
"Where would that be?" Helen asked. She hadn't seen any other outbuildings when they'd come in, but then she hadn't seen the pool complex either. Apparently not everything could be seen from sea level.
Peter pointed north. "Back in the woods just a few feet from the beach. About halfway between the boat dock and where the inlet starts."
"I don't remember seeing a building there when I came in."
"You have to know what to look for. Paddy wanted it to be obscure."
"Hmm. You said you saw Fabian leave. Are you sure it was him?"
"Yeah. Saw him walk down to the dock and get on the Celtic Moon. Um, Claire's sailboat. Who else would it have been? Besides, he was gone when I came back to the castle to talk to Paddy."
Peter claimed not to know anything about the visit and seemed to be telling the truth. Of course, he had no reason to lie that she knew of. Yet.
Once Peter had ascertained that Megan was indeed doing fine and didn't need his services, he went inside to clean up.
The sun began its final descent, turning the puffy clouds pink. Megan stretched and rubbed her back. "It's getting chilly. Think I'll go inside. I suppose I should take care of the dishes."
"You go on in. I'd like to enjoy the sunset for a few more minutes, then I'll take the tray into the kitchen."
"Thanks." Megan bent to kiss Helen's cheek. "I'm glad you're here. I think having you around will be good for Mom and me."
At seven-thirty, Helen went inside, stopping in the kitchen to deposit the tray and dishes on the counter. A bowl of fresh greens sat in a strainer next to the sink beside a stack of glass salad plates. Whatever they were having for dinner smelled wonderful.
Hillary wasn't there, and Helen suspected she may have gone to her room to dress for dinner. Something she needed to do herself. First, however, she intended to satisfy her curiosity. Pulling on an oven mitt she found on the counter, Helen opened the enormous oven. A dozen or more brown potatoes were baking along one side. On another rack sat a covered clay pot the size of a turkey roasting pan. Helen lifted the heavy lid, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Heat and steam wafted into her face. "Mm. Nothing like a good roast." Ignoring the urge to take a sample, Helen replaced the lid, closed the oven door, and wandered through the castle until she found her way back to her room.
"What do you think of my castle, Helen?" At dinner, Uncle Paddy was back to his old self. His eyes twinkled with pride. He sat at the head of the table, in his element as lord and master, and Helen thought he'd have made a great monarch. Helen sat on his right and Claire on his left. There were seven of them around the table with Megan and Peter next to Claire and Richard and Hillary to her right.
"I've never seen anything so grand." Helen sliced into her tender roast beef and dipped a bite into the small dish of horseradish sauce. "And I have been in some pretty spectacular places. I don't quite understand why you'd close it up for the winter, though. With the glassed-in spa area, you could leave it open year round."
"That was my plan originally. But I'm not a young man anymore. I'm hoping whoever takes over the resort will be able to do just that."
"Oh, Dad. I wish you wouldn't talk like that. You may be getting old, but you're as fit as ever." Claire lifted a glass of water in a toast, then took a sip. "You'll be around a long time."
"Maybe. But when you get to be my age, you check the obits every morning just to make sure you're still alive."
Richard gave his father a half smile. "Steal
ing jokes from George Burns again, huh? When did you decide to close for the winter? Last I heard you were only closing down for a week or two."
"That was my original plan but now I'm not so sure. Can't run the place without a full crew. I've got some bugs to work out. This was our first summer, you know. I need to look at the numbers and make some changes. Being on an island has its drawbacks. Not too many people are anxious to live here on a permanent basis, especially since we're not on the ferry run. I could maybe get the ferries to stop, but I'm not sure I want to. Might bring in too many tourists."
"The staff quarters are nearly finished, so maybe that will entice some people to live here full time," Peter told them.
"We're hoping to talk Martha and Bill into moving here as caretakers," Hillary said. "Martha is all for it, but Bill's dragging his feet. Afraid it will interfere with his fishing."
"I'd move to the island in a minute if Megan would agree to it." Peter unfolded a maroon cloth from the bread basket and pulled out a slice of bread. "This place is fantastic. Even working full time I've been able to devote more time to my painting than I did in a year in Seattle."
Helen smiled at his enthusiasm. "I can see why. Everything about it is inspiring. By the way, I saw some of your work in the gift shop. I'd like to buy the painting you did of the castle."
"I'd like to buy it," Claire said, "and give it to her."
Peter gave her a broad grin. "It's nice to be so popular. You can both pay me if you want."
Megan gave him a sidelong glance. "The island may be inspiring, but it's also isolated. No way would I live here during the winter, at least not until after the baby is older. Even then, I'm not sure I could handle being so far away from civilization."
"But you'll think about it, won't you, Megan?" Paddy said. "I'll be offering Peter a management position if he'll commit to staying on the premises."
Megan glanced uncomfortably from Paddy to Peter. "Is that what you want, Peter? If it is, you should take it. Don't pass up the opportunity on my account."
Peter frowned. "I just thought it was a decision we should make together."
Megan seemed to struggle for control. Helen shot her an empathetic look, thinking perhaps it was time to change the subject. Apparently she wasn't the only one. Claire leaned forward and patted Megan's hand. "Sounds as though you and Peter have a lot to talk over." Turning back to Paddy, she said, "Did Helen tell you about our encounter with Mary this afternoon?"
"No." His white eyebrows rose. His eyes regained their twinkle. "You heard her?"
"She snatched one of Helen's roses."
"A rose?" His smile faded. "That's odd."
Claire told him about their venture into Mary's suite. "I was surprised she'd do that. I've never known her to steal anything before."
"I told you it might be her doing the stealing, Paddy." Hillary turned her concerned gaze to Helen. "He wouldn't listen. This isn't the first time. Just last month one of the guests claimed her heirloom diamond brooch had been stolen. She was staying in the very room you are, Helen. Says she set it on her dresser one night and the next morning it was gone."
"Really? Why would you suspect the ghost?"
"No one else it could have been." Hillary moved her chair back. "Anyone ready for dessert?" When no one declined, she rose from her chair.
"I'll help you." Peter jumped up and followed her into the kitchen.
"You didn't tell me about that, Dad." Claire wiped her mouth on the cloth napkin and set it beside her plate.
"Didn't come up. The woman probably misplaced it. At any rate, she had it insured for half a million."
"Did you call the authorities?" Helen asked.
"Of course I did. Had both the sheriff and the Canadian Mounties out here prowling around all over the place. They couldn't find any evidence of a break-in. Searched all the rooms.” He shrugged. “Nothing. No one left the island without a thorough search of their belongings. Like it disappeared into thin air."
"Do you think Mary took it, Dad?" Claire asked.
"Mother, please." Megan leaned back and stroked her rounded stomach. "You can't be serious."
"She took Helen's rose. It's obvious she's become more active."
"Humph." Megan obviously didn't agree.
"It certainly would explain a lot of things," Claire continued. "If she's taken to stealing, maybe she's the one who took the money out of your safe, Dad."
"I might have known." Richard glared at Claire. "Anything to take the blame off that money-grubbing husband of yours. Ghost, my foot. If Mary exists at all, it's only in your imagination."
"Uncle Richard is right, Mom. Even if Mary was real, what would a ghost need with money or jewelry?"
"Seems to me the answer is pretty simple," Richard said. "Someone around here is a thief, and my money's on Fabian."
Uncle Paddy managed to turn the conversation from its accusatory tone to something less volatile by asking Helen about her family. Through a dessert of bread pudding with rum sauce and a comfy hour in front of the fire in the main sitting room, they reminisced about family and friends both in Ireland and in the U.S.
One by one the weary troupe excused themselves and went to bed. Richard went up first. Over dinner he'd seemed perky, but as the evening wore on, he faded. Megan and Peter left next, then Claire, who apologized for not having the energy to go with Helen to the spas. "I know I promised we'd hot tub tonight, but I'm so tired. If you don't mind I think I'd like to go to bed."
"I don't mind at all. I'll be up in a few minutes."
"Good night, Dad. Sleep tight." She kissed the top of his head and left the room.
Helen moved closer to the fire and took hold of her uncle's hand. "I suppose I'd better go too. You must be getting tired. As I recall, you were always an early riser."
"Yes, I suppose it is about that time." Paddy stared into the fire. He squeezed her hand. "I know you'll find this hard to swallow, Helen, but Claire isn't alone in thinking that Mary might be resorting to theft. From what I understand she's always been a bit unpredictable."
Helen knelt down beside her uncle. "You really think there's a ghost?"
"I admit I was skeptical at first. But with all the strange goings on and the noises, I'm tempted to believe it. She might even be responsible for those 'accidents' I've been having. Maybe she's angry with me for all the changes I've been making to her home."
"I can't believe you're saying this."
He turned toward her and smiled. "You trying to tell me I've lost me mind, lass?"
"No. Not you." She straightened, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Richard is right. Ghosts have no need of money or jewelry. I suspect your thief is very much alive."
He nodded. "And you'll prove me wrong?"
"I'll try."
"Good. Now off to bed with you. We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow."
Helen told him good-night and went into the kitchen. Poking her head in, she called, "Hill?"
"I'm in the pantry fixing up Paddy's milk and getting his medications ready. He always likes a cup before bed. Helps him sleep."
"Would you like me to take them?"
"No. You go on to bed. All I need to do is set it in his room. He'll take care of the rest."
Helen settled an arm across the older woman's shoulders. "You're a treasure, Hill. Even if you do believe in ghosts."
Hillary gave her a knowing look. "You will, too, missy. Mark my words. Before you leave this house, you will believe"
Chapter Eleven
You will believe.
Hillary's declaration settled over Helen like a heavy robe and hung there as she ascended the stairs and headed down the hall to her room. Helen did believe in the supernatural, of course. She could hardly profess to have faith without belief in things unseen. There were many things in the spiritual realm, both good and evil, she had yet to understand. The Bible clearly talked of the presence of evil and encounters with angels. But ghosts? Or more specifically, spirits who haunted hou
ses, created chaos, and stole tangible things like jewelry and money?
Skepticism continued to reign in her mind. She took her time getting ready for bed. Once she'd donned her long-sleeved cotton nightgown, she padded into the adjoining sitting room, where she found a phone and dialed home. J.B. answered on the first ring.
"I was wondering if you'd call." He sounded worried.
Helen glanced at her watch. "Sorry to call so late. I'm just getting ready for bed and realized I hadn't phoned you yet." She gave him the number at the castle and filled him in on the day's activities.
"All castles are haunted, lass," he said when she told him about the rose. "You know that. All the creaking and groaning. It's expected. Remember the castle we visited in England."
Helen smiled, imagining his teasing grin. They'd stayed two nights at the castle on their honeymoon. "I remember. You were just trying to scare me so I'd snuggle."
"Truth be known, I wanted to snuggle because I was scared."
She laughed. "You scared? I don't believe it for a minute."
"It's true, luv. I was raised learning about the wee folk and the second sight. I'll not for an instant be saying it's all foolishness. I've seen too many unexplained mysteries in my life to believe that. Mere mortals I can handle, but haunted castles? That's another thing altogether."
"Well, I wish you were here now. It's eerie. I'm certain a mere mortal is behind all this. Still, I can't help but feel somewhat spooked, especially with the thefts and Fabian's disappearance."
"Would you like me to come? I could hire someone to fly me up tomorrow morning."
She did want him there, not so much to assist her in discovering the secret of the haunted castle, but because she wanted to snuggle and share the delights of Paradise with him. "I'd love for you to be here. But we'd best not entertain the thought until the house is done. How's it coming, by the way? Did the wind do much damage?"
"Lost a couple of shakes off the roof is all. The wind died down around ten and everything is still standing. You'll be happy to know they put the exterior siding up on the addition. Electrical and plumbing goes in tomorrow morning and insulation tomorrow afternoon, and with any luck we'll have the interior walls done on Friday. Might be I can get away for the weekend, that is, if you want me to come."
A Haunting Refrain: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 4) Page 10