“Katherine!”
She pushed through the last of the brambles and stepped into the clearing of the Standing Stones. He was sitting within the ring, leaning against the stone that was farthest from her. Warily she stepped between the stones, feeling the thick moss beneath her feet.
“I’m here. What do you want?”
“Katherine.” Derry Riordan’s voice was deep and rich and very Irish. With the peculiar clarity of dreams, she noticed that his clothes were torn in several places and that his feet were bare. He was also soaking wet, his dark hair plastered to his head. Drops of water rolled down his face and dripped off his clothes. He held out a pink rose, and she saw that his wrists were manacled together with a heavy chain. “Forgive me. I never meant to frighten you. “
“Forgive you?” Almost without thinking, she reached for the rose. A thorn bit into her flesh, and she dropped it. “Ow!” She looked up at him. “It’s real.”
“And so am I, “ he answered, his face clear and distinct against the shadow of the rock. “And only you can help me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, Katie found it impossible to get the images of last night’s dream out of her mind. She found herself daydreaming several times, staring at the papers on the desk before her, and each time she shook herself. Tomorrow was the first day of classes, and she had so much to do to prepare. Including setting up her tiny office on the fifth floor of the Arts Building.
She was in the midst of placing more books on the rickety bookshelves when the telephone rang. The old black rotary phone looked as though it was one of the college’s original telephones, and as Katie picked up the heavy receiver, she decided that that was exactly what it was. “Katherine Coyle.”
“Katie?” The woman’s voice was vaguely familiar. “It’s Mary—Mary Monahan.”
“Why, hello!” Instantly an image of Derry Riordan flashed into her mind, remembering that Mary had mentioned her to him. Mary might be a bit strange, but she was the closest thing to a new friend Katie had made in East Bay. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Oh, busy. Settling in. You know how it is.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to meet me for lunch.”
Katie smiled. “That would be very nice. Where shall I meet you?” As Mary talked about where they could have lunch, Katie found herself thinking about how to bring up the handsome Irish stranger. Finally, a bit too abruptly, she said: “I wanted to tell you I met your guest.”
“My guest?” There was an odd silence on the other end of the phone.
How strange, thought Katie. “He told me he was your guest. Derry Riordan. From Ireland. Is that not true?” She tried to keep her voice even.
“Oh—Derry!” Mary sounded oddly relieved. “I uh…I don’t think of him as a guest. He’s more like family.”
“Oh,” said Katie.
“You met him?”
“Yes, last night. I was out for a walk, and he was passing through the woods, and saw my flashlight. Half scared me out of my mind, but he seems very nice.”
“Oh, that’s an old habit of his. He’s been scaring me like that ever since I was a g—” Abruptly Mary stopped. “Ever since I’ve known him. And yes, he is very nice. He’s been wanting to meet you ever since I told him about you.”
“Really?” There was something strange about this whole exchange that Katie couldn’t quite define. “Well, why don’t you tell me more about him at lunch?”
“That sounds great. I’ll see you about noon, okay?” With a click, Mary hung up.
Katie stared at the receiver. Mary was definitely an interesting person—a bit odd, but friendly, and more than a little lonely. She was obviously out of place in this small New England town.
Katie replaced the phone on its cradle and looked out the window. The windowsill was thick with dust, and she resolved to bring some cleaning things from home.
“All ready for tomorrow?” Alistair Proser stood leaning against the open door, arms crossed over his chest. He spoke with his usual air of assumed superiority.
“Just about as ready as I’ll ever be,” Katie said. “How about you?”
“Oh, I’m not teaching here.” The tone in his voice made it clear he thought East Bay was beneath him. “I’ll be working on my application, though. How’s yours coming along?”
She felt a small prick of guilt. “It’s coming,” she replied. After all, he didn’t need to know she’d barely had time to look at her outline in the last week or so.
“It’s tough when you have to juggle teaching and all,” he said. “How about joining me for lunch?”
“Oh,” she said, silently thanking heaven that she could legitimately say she had plans. “I’m meeting another friend for lunch already, I’m afraid. But another time would be nice.”
“Great,” he said, straightening from the doorframe. “It can be your treat.”
“My pleasure,” Katie managed after a moment of surprise at his offer of allowing her to pay.
“Alistair.”
The stentorian voice made them both jump. Reginald Proser peered around his son and glared at Katie with undisguised disdain. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Well, so sorry, Reg.” Alistair winked at Katie. “I was just chatting with Miss Coyle about her work. Did you know she’s applying for the Clancy grant, too?”
“Is that so?” Proser peered at her over his horn-rimmed spectacles, then turned to look up at his taller son. “Your mother wants you to join us for lunch today. She’s complaining that she never sees you.”
Alistair shrugged. “Look, Pater, I’ve been busy. As a matter of fact—”
“As a matter of fact you found time to chat with Miss Coyle.” The disapproval in the older man’s tone was palpable.
Katie gathered her purse from her bottom drawer. “If you gentlemen will excuse me?” She squeezed past the two of them and made her escape. She had just reached the stairs when she heard Alistair call after her: “Remember our rain check.”
She waved briefly and fled down the steps.
• • •
“My grandfather believed that the reason the stone circles are built on ley lines is that the Stones capture the energy somehow, rather like giant batteries.” Mary paused long enough to take a sip of iced tea. She was watching Katie closely. “He also believed that you could direct this energy, harness it. And use it.”
“But use it for what?” Katie asked.
“I’m not sure he was very clear on that point, myself. But I have my own theory.”
“Oh?”
“I think the Stones do trap the energy. I think that explains the odd things that happen around Pond House. The images you see or smell or hear—the cat and the fragrance of bread and the voice in the night—are all trapped in the flow. And I think that the ghost is similarly trapped there, too. He’s stuck there somehow, and can’t move on.”
“Move on?”
“To a higher plane. Earth energy is tremendously powerful, but extremely diffuse, so to speak. It’s spread out over a wide area. But if the Stones serve the purpose I think they serve, they gather the energy and concentrate it in one place.”
“That still doesn’t explain what the energy could be used for,” said Katie. She took a bite of her sandwich. The food was good, but she scarcely noticed it.
“Well,” said Mary, “that might explain how the ancients were able to build the things they did—the pyramids, and that sort of thing.” She leaned back in her chair and seemed to be watching Katie very closely.
Katie shook her head and stared at her plate. Finally she looked up at Mary. “So tell me about this visitor of yours. Who’s Derry Riordan?”
Mary glanced up and around the room with a little laugh. “Oh, if I could tell you that…” Her voice trailed off. “He’s an old friend. He’s really interested in Irish history. He has a special fascination for the Stones.”
“He
said he wasn’t teaching.”
“Oh, no. He’s—uh—he’s more into research at the moment.”
“Researching what? The Stones?”
“Yes,” said Mary. “That’s it. That’s why he’s here. I hope you won’t mind. You might see him around the Stones a lot. He won’t bother you, though.”
Katie smiled mischievously. “He seemed nice enough. And he’s certainly easy on the eyes. As long as I know he’s a friend of yours, I won’t mind at all.”
“Oh, Derry’s a good person.” said Mary. “He wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“I hope you understand. Living alone, out there at Pond House—well, usually I feel perfectly safe. But I guess old habits just die hard.”
“I understand completely.” Mary waved an airy hand. “Single women can never be too careful. But Derry’s a gentleman.”
“Hmm.” Katie grinned. “That reminds me of what my father always said. Against a scoundrel he could teach me to defend myself. Against a gentleman he could only warn me.”
Mary burst out laughing. “That’s Derry all right.”
“There is one thing that puzzles me.” Katie leaned forward. “I had a dream last night that seemed so vivid, it could have been real. Derry was in it.”
“Already?” Mary raised an eyebrow in mock mortification. “My word.”
“No, no,” Katie said. “Not like that. He was dressed in rags. And he was chained at the wrists. He gave me a rose and asked me to help him.”
Mary blinked. An odd expression crossed her face, and Katie waited, wondering what the woman was thinking.
“Well,” Mary said finally. “That certainly is odd.” She looked thoughtful, but before she could speak again, a shadow fell across the table.
“Well, Miss Coyle.” The stentorian voice made her jump. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Katie glanced up into the stony face of Reginald Proser. His thin wife, Lillian, was at his side. Her lips were pinched together as if she’d tasted something unpleasant.
“Dr. Proser, Mrs. Proser.” she managed. “How—how nice to see you.”
He folded his mouth into what could be construed as a smile. “And I assume you will be at the faculty meeting this afternoon, Miss Coyle? At two?”
“It’s nice to see you again, too, Reg. And you, Lil,” said Mary. Somehow her demeanor had changed completely.
Proser fixed Mary with an icy stare. “Ms. Monahan.”
“Hello, Mary,” said Lillian Proser. She looked away deliberately, and Katie wondered what the two women had against each other.
“Of course I’ll be there, Dr. Proser,” she said. How could she have forgotten?
“I’ll look forward to seeing you, then. Come along, Lillian.” He took his wife’s arm and the two of them marched off.
“Old goat,” said Mary when the two were scarcely out of earshot.
Katie cocked her head. “You know those two?”
“Who wouldn’t? He made a major pass for me when I was at East Bay. And I didn’t let it die, either. I opened my mouth and raised holy hell, and his wife blamed me for the whole thing. I’m the one who left.”
“That’s dreadful,” said Katie.
Mary shrugged. “It’s happened to plenty. I’m sure it’s not so different now.”
“No,” Katie shook her head. “Nothing’s ever happened to me like that, but I know a few women who were…”
“Propositioned?” Mary waved her hand. “That’s all in the past for me. But old Proser never forgave or forgot me, either, I can see that.”
Katie looked at her watch. “He’s not going to forgive or forget me, either, if I don’t get to that meeting. It slipped my mind completely. I’d better get going.” She pulled some bills from her wallet and placed them on the table. “I’m sorry to run out like this, but this should cover my share.”
“No problem,” Mary said. “It’s all right, though, if I tell Derry that you don’t mind his poking around the Stones?”
Katie got to her feet. “Your grandfather put them there. Why would I mind if you don’t?” She turned to go and hesitated. “Just one thing, though? Tell him not to sneak up on me. Last night he nearly scared me to death.”
Mary laughed. “That’s Derry. I’ll tell him. I’m not sure it will do any good.”
• • •
The afternoon sun was warm on Katie’s back and she glanced quickly at the time with her hand beneath the table, trying to stifle a yawn. It was already past four, and the dean of student affairs had been droning on for the last hour, describing the new academic standards for the coming year.
She stole glances at her colleagues. Most of them were listening with looks of polite interest. A few were openly bored, and one woman was obviously writing what looked like a grocery list in a small notebook. She looked up and winked at Katie.
Finally the dean sat down. Proser got to his feet. “Well, then, ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s it. Good luck with the new semester—my secretary will be in early all this week and the next to assist you with any problems, and don’t forget the graduate students’ reception tomorrow evening in Old Chapman.”
They all rose. Katie got to her feet, fighting the urge to stretch. She gathered her sweater and her purse, and as she walked past Proser, he looked up and pinned her with his steely gaze. “Miss Coyle. A word, if you please.”
“Certainly, Dr. Proser.”
He waited for the last person to leave. “I wanted to let you know that one of our graduate students was taken ill suddenly, and will be unable to teach her sections of freshman composition. As the newest member of our faculty, I’ll expect you to take those sections. You can check with Fran for the time and room numbers.”
Katie felt her lips freeze in a grotesque parody of a smile. Freshman composition? Another class to prepare for?
“Dr. Proser,” was all she could manage, “classes start tomorrow.”
“Fran’s still in her office. If you hurry, you can catch her. You can get a sample syllabus from her, too. Because this is a bit of short notice. I won’t expect to see yours until next week.”
Katie swallowed hard. “May I ask how many students that will be?”
“Fifteen in each section. We don’t believe in overcrowding our courses. You can find the books you’ll be using in the bookstore. Doubtless Fran has a few from other years lying around. Feel free, however, to choose your own, but make sure I approve your selections if you do.” He smiled at her, a smile made all the more disturbing by its appearance of friendliness. “Any questions?”
“No.” Katie straightened her shoulders. “I’ll be able to put something together this evening. Good afternoon.” She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“And one more thing, Miss Coyle. Just a word to the wise. Mary Monahan is a troublemaker of the worst sort. No good can come of any association with her.”
“Oh?” Katie kept her face as blank as possible.
“You’re new here, Miss Coyle, and I don’t expect you to understand. But I’m only warning you for your own good. Keep away from that woman. She won’t do your future here at East Bay any good at all.” With a brief nod, he walked briskly out of the room.
Katie stared after him. What an unpleasant little man. First he dumped thirty students on her without any warning, and then he tried to influence her choice of friends. The second made her far more furious than the first. She had half a mind to call Mary and invite her out for dinner. She started down the hall, still fuming.
“Well, well, what a pleasant surprise!” Alistair Proser’s voice startled her. She turned around, a careful smile fixed across her face. “Hello, Alistair.”
“Here for the meeting?”
“Yes,” Katie nodded. “It’s just over now.” She glanced down the hall, wondering how she could get away from him. She wanted to go back to the Stones while it was still daylight, and she needed to get to Fran before the woman left for the day.
“All ready for your first class
tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. How’s your research coming?”
“I’m thinking I might have to make a quick trip to Ireland in the next month. Too bad you can’t come with me. I’ll have to look up that twin sister.”
Meg would just love that, thought Katie, imagining what her outspoken twin would say to Alistair and his pretensions. “Yes, too bad,” was all she said.
“But I won’t be gone long. Maybe only a few days. I just need to check some sources.”
She smiled, saying nothing.
“So when can we have dinner again?”
“I’d love to have dinner,” said Katie, thinking furiously. The last thing she needed was to antagonize both the father and the son. “But I really need to settle into my new schedule. How about in a week or two?” She hoped that was vague enough.
“Sounds great to me.”
Katie glanced at her watch. “I’m terribly sorry but I have to run.”
“I was hoping we could have coffee.” He sounded a little petulant.
“That sounds great, Alistair, but I’m just overwhelmed today.”
“I can see you are,” he said. “Another time. I’ll take another rain check,” he added magnanimously.
“Thanks!” Katie hastened along the hall, escaping down the stairs. She fought an impulse to glance over her shoulder to see if he was following her. Her career at East Bay was looking less and less promising. Not only had she managed to make an enemy of Reginald Proser, she was going to have to find a way to dodge the attentions of his son.
She should put all the nonsense about the Standing Stones out of her head and get to work on her application, she thought as she got into her car. She should go home, make herself a nice, nourishing dinner; start organizing her freshman composition materials, and get to bed early. She should put all the supernatural rubbish behind her, and concentrate on the things that really mattered.
But she knew, as soon as she turned the key in the ignition, that before she did any of those things, she would see if Mary’s “guest-who-was-practically-family” happened to be poking around the Stones.
The Ghost and Katie Coyle Page 8