by Lynn Cahoon
“A girl’s got to have some secrets, right?”
Greg pulled me close. He nuzzled my neck, which made me go all crazy and he knew it. Whispering in my ear, he said, “Maybe you should just tell me.”
“I . . .” My words were cut short when we heard footsteps on the stairs.
Justin peeked in, his head near the floor as he had stopped climbing. “Hey, you two. Come downstairs, you’ve got to see this.”
And then he retreated. Greg pointed to the stairwell. “You just remember, this was all your big idea. I wanted to go to Napa Valley for the weekend. You let Amy talk you into this.”
“It will be fun, they said . . .” I laughed and made my way down the stairs. When we got to the first floor, the living room was empty. Justin peeked around the doorway into the kitchen.
“Come on, you two. I swear, you’re the slowest people I’ve ever met.” Justin turned and disappeared again.
“Where at in Napa? That little B and B we love so much?” I glanced at my watch. We still had ten minutes before the doors locked. Maybe we should just leave and let the ghost hunters have their fun. “I could grab our bags and meet you in the truck in five.”
“Oh, no. You’re seeing this through. Besides, you might just have fun.” Greg angled me into the kitchen where Justin was standing at the door to the cellar.
“You are not going to believe this.” He’d grabbed his phone on his way through the living room. Then he took off down the stairs, expecting us to follow.
“What do you think? Dead body or priceless treasure?” I grabbed the shaky handhold and started my way down to find the group.
“I’d put my money on priceless treasure. Justin doesn’t seem the type to handle a dead body this calmly,” Greg said. I could feel his body on the step above me. The man gave off heat like a steam radiator. Me, I always felt chilled. Especially when I was climbing down into an unknown cellar in a supposedly haunted house.
The history Esmeralda hadn’t mentioned was the strange lights you’d see on at the house. Greg had told me he’d sent several officers out to check the status of the house in the last few years after people had reported seeing someone on the top floor. The house had always been locked up tight when the officers arrived and the caretaker had been annoyed at being roused out of his bed, once again.
Now we were going into the basement. I was still betting on a dead body. Probably the woman who’d lived here so many years ago. Maryanne.
When we got to the bottom no one was in the large room. The cellar had a dirt floor and sandstone walls. I touched a block and the chill of the room shot through me. “This place must be murder to keep heated.”
Greg shown his flashlight up to the rafters where the kitchen sat. “No insulation in the floorboards. It would keep the main floor cool in the summer, but yeah, winters would be a problem.”
“Maybe it was built as a summer house?” Voices came out of the room to the left and I moved toward them. When I opened the door, everyone was standing around a table in the middle of the room. A lantern had been lit and the watery light shown out to the walls where shelves had been built. And filled. Every shelf was filled with boxes or bottles. Their labels faded from the years of waiting. Waiting to be used.
I glanced back on the table. A large iron pot and a mortar and pestle stood near the light.
Esmeralda met my gaze. We’d found her potions room. And now there was no doubt: Maryanne had been a witch.
Chapter 3
“I wish you all would stop calling her a witch. We knew she was a healer. They just did things differently back then,” Esmeralda argued.
“True.” Greg was trying to slow the discussion. After everyone had taken pictures and looked at the inventory, he’d moved the group upstairs to gather in the living room again.
I’d grabbed my hoodie and was trying to get warm. I’d made myself a cup of hot chocolate from the coffee machine we’d brought from my house. My fingers gripped the warm mug like it was a lifeline. Stories of ghosts and paranormal creatures were one thing. Realizing you lived near a house where a real live witch had practiced was something totally different. Even though she’d been gone long before I’d even thought of moving to South Cove. It felt creepy.
“It was in the sixties, not 1800s. People had real doctors by then. Face it, Esmeralda, this woman studied witchcraft. And don’t go all wiccan rights on me. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but maybe what she practiced was the reason she disappeared.” Darla was eating her third brownie since she’d come up from the cellar. I decided to grab one before they all disappeared.
Bringing two back to the couch, I offered one to Greg. He shook his head. Like I’d expected. Now I looked like a good girlfriend and had two brownies to eat. It was a total score moment. If only we hadn’t been locked in a haunted house for the night.
“So we know she practiced witchcraft. Or someone who had lived in this house did.” Greg looked at me. “Like Jill told me earlier, when you inherit a house, it comes with everything the prior owners left. Maybe it was someone in the family who lived here before, not Maryanne.”
Esmeralda brightened at the thought. For some reason, she seemed to be attached to this woman she’d never met. I wondered if it was more to prove the woman was normal. Or was it to prove that Esmeralda was just as normal. “That’s right. I hadn’t thought of that angle. Good job, Jill. Let’s go with our original plan and see if there’s anyone to talk to.”
We shuffled around, letting Esmeralda get her toys ready to call on the spirits of the house. Greg got another beer. As did the rest of the guys. Amy glanced at my hot chocolate. “Any more of that?”
“Of course.” I went over and showed her how to use the coffee machine. And while we were there, I made another one for me. Darla grabbed a beer to wash down her brownies.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. You know what she charges for a real reading at her place?” When both Amy and I shook our heads, Darla continued. “Hundreds. And then they tip her. I don’t know why she’s even working police dispatch. She’s got to be rolling in six figures.”
“Maybe she’s saving for retirement.” Amy sipped her cocoa. “Justin convinced me to put away six percent in a 401(k) and the city matches it. But I can’t touch it for forty years. What if I want to go chase waves for a while?”
“What if you can’t work when you’re old and need the money?” I’d started looking into a retirement plan for the bookstore but so far, it was just me, Aunt Jackie, and Toby who were interested in taking advantage of the program. Most of my employees needed the little money they earned to live on. Or buy books.
“I’ll come live with you.” My friend gave me a quick hug, then went back to her place next to Justin. I liked Justin. They hadn’t been dating all that long, but he was the steady to my friend’s wild nature.
Esmeralda called the group together. “Okay, so everyone sit on the floor in a circle. This way, none of you jokers can mess with the movement of the marker.” She nodded to Darla. “You can be the scribe, but you have to sit outside the circle. Everyone has to be touching to make it work.”
“Okay by me.” Darla pulled her chair back behind where Esmeralda sat. “You call it out and I’ll write.”
I started to sit on the other side of the circle, but Esmeralda shook her head and pulled me down next to her. “I need you and Amy on each side of me. The men can fill in the circle.”
I crossed my legs, then patted the floor next to me. “Greg, come sit here. Maybe I can block your negative thoughts.”
He grinned but followed my instruction. Then Jake sat next to him, Matt across from Esmeralda, and finally Justin next to Amy. The circle was complete. Esmeralda made eye contact with each person. Then she gave us our instructions.
“Has anyone but Jake been in a calling circle before?” When no one answered, she continued. “That’s what I th
ought. What I need from all of you is an open mind. No thinking about how stupid this is or what we still have to eat for snacks tonight.”
Amy tapped Justin on the arm. “She so has your number.”
“What? I’m a growing boy, umm, man.” Justin blanched a bit when he caught the full effect of Esmeralda’s glare. “Okay, I’ll be serious.”
“We may have only one shot at this.” Esmeralda met Jake’s gaze and he nodded. I watched the silent conversation between the two and wondered what else was going unsaid. Then she focused on me. “Jill, you and Amy need to keep one of your hands lightly on my arms. The other you need to hold the hand of the person next to you. Do not break the circle, even if you have to scratch your nose.”
“What if I have to . . .” Matt started but he froze as Esmeralda turned her gaze on him. It was a great trick. I needed to watch her and learn. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
“If we’re ready . . .” Esmeralda took a deep breath and then held out her arms. “Link hands. Jill, Amy, lay your hands on top of my forearms. Very lightly, do not add pressure, but don’t break contact either.”
Leaning toward Esmeralda, I focused on her arm. There was no way I’d be blamed for losing her or breaking the circle. A gentle squeeze from Greg let me know that he felt my discomfort and, in his nonverbal message, everything was going to be okay. I squeezed back, ready for the start of the session.
“Spirits of the house, come grant us your wisdom. Speak your truth. Give us your knowledge. Tell us your story.” Esmeralda paused. “I feel a spirit nearby. Tell us your name.”
The planchette started to move on the board. Darla called out the letters as Esmeralda paused. Her arms felt loose and unresponsive under my hand. I would have sworn she wasn’t moving at all, yet I watched the letters being chosen. One by one.
“I. A. M. M. A. R. Y. A. N. N. E.” Darla spelled out. In a whisper, she repeated, “I am Maryanne.”
“What happened to you? Where are you now? What do you want to tell us?” After each question Esmeralda asked, the board stayed quiet. Finally, at the last one, the planchette moved.
“I. W. A. N. T. M. Y. C. H. . . . ” Darla called out.
Then the board flew up in the air and a gust of wind that shouldn’t have been in the living room pushed Esmeralda over onto her back. The circle was broken and Greg jumped up to see if she was hurt.
“I’m okay.” She pushed Greg’s hands away and got up shakily to her feet. “That hasn’t happened to me in a long time.”
Jake was near her and handed her a soda. “The spirit was angry.”
“Thanks, Jake.” She opened the can and drank most of it in several gulps. “Not angry. Frustrated.”
“Well, I guess we know one thing. Maryanne is the spirit who’s haunting the house and she’s missing something that starts with a ch.” Darla tapped her pen to the paper. “Chicken. Charlie. Chattel . . .”
“Child.” Amy sighed. “She lost a child.”
“I found a crib in the attic. But I thought it was from the first family who lived here.” I peered at my friend. “How do you know she lost a child?”
“This is going to sound stupid. Heck, I don’t even believe me, but I might as well say it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how I know. I just do. I feel it.”
Jake and Greg moved Esmeralda to the couch and everyone else seemed to be gathering around the beer cooler, obviously shaken from the events. Greg came over to me as I gathered the board and planchette and put them away in the black tote. He took the tote from me and sat it near the wall, and then he pulled me to my feet and into a hug. “You okay?”
“You know I don’t believe in all this mumbo jumbo. But that was weird. I know she wasn’t moving the dial because I could feel her muscles in her arm. They never even twitched.” I snuck a peek at our local fortune-teller, who was whispering with her new friend, Jake. Or, I guess, her old friend. He was only new to us. They went back to childhood together. A time Esmeralda never wanted to talk about. I’d figured it was painful, but maybe there was something more. “He’s important to her.”
“I know. But I don’t know why.” Greg stepped back and let his gaze skim my body. “You don’t look half bad.”
“Now, that’s a compliment every girl wants to hear.” I put my arm around him and surveyed the room. “Now that our ghost hunting’s done, maybe we can start a fire and roast some marshmallows?”
“Perfect idea.” Justin overhearing my suggestion, headed to the fireplace where wood had already been set. “I’ll deal with this. The rest of you move the furniture around so we can watch the fire and tell stories.”
“As long as they aren’t ghost stories, I’m in.” Darla moved one of the chairs closer to the fire as Matt grabbed another one. “I think I’m a little wigged out about what just happened.”
“We’ll set that aside for a while.” Justin glanced at his watch. “We have eight hours before the doors unlock and we can go grab breakfast.”
“Leave it to you to think in food time.” Amy patted the couch next to her. “Finish lighting that fire and come sit by me.”
As the rest of us gathered around the fire, I wondered if we had unseen visitors joining our conversation, our laughter. Maybe Esmeralda could reach through the veil to the other side. Or maybe the past is always around us. Enjoying the moments of friendship and laughter and good memories. I decided that someday, I was going to take my neighbor to coffee or lunch and learn what she really knew about spirits. But not today.
When the fire burned down, Esmeralda and Jake took out sleeping bags and the rest of us made our way to our assigned areas. “Maybe we should all just sleep in the living room.” I glanced back at the glowing embers as we climbed the stairs. “That way if anything happens, we’ll be together.”
“Honey, nothing’s going to happen. Esmeralda was just messing with us earlier. You know she’s a professional in the game.” Greg put his arm around me as we walked into the bedroom. “It’s all part of the fun.”
I wasn’t sure that Greg was right. But at least he wasn’t freaked out. If I can’t feel safe sleeping next to a police detective, I guess I wasn’t going to feel safe anywhere. “Okay, but if the ghost comes into the room tonight, I’m totally waking you up.”
“I’ll protect you.” He chuckled as he laid himself on the bed. “Man, that Jake has all kinds of stories, doesn’t he?”
I curled next to him and he molded his body next to mine. Instant heater. I hadn’t realized how chilled I’d gotten downstairs. Sleep was beginning to take me, but I thought about Jake’s stories of travel and adventure. “The guy is a nomad. I wonder if he calls anyplace home.”
Greg might have responded, but if he did, I didn’t hear him. Instead, I fell into a deep sleep. And walked into a dream. The kitchen was filled with the sound of a child laughing and chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. The smell made my mouth water. A pretty woman dressed in a gauzy skirt and peasant blouse smiled at me.
“Come sit down. Ariel and I are just having a treat. Do you want to join us?” The woman pointed to the table where a plate was filled with fresh cookies and a glass of milk set beside it.
“Sure.” I looked around the room. The kitchen looked familiar. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“You’re in my dream. The one where I got to keep the baby.” The woman smiled and ran a hand down the child’s long red hair. “I’m always amazed to see how curly her hair is. She must get it from her father. Mine is as straight as a board. Always was.”
“How can I be in your dream?” The idea wasn’t making sense. I took a bite of one of the cookies and it was warm and gooey and delicious. “My friend Sadie makes cookies like this.”
“You’re lucky to have good friends. Is she one of the women staying with you this weekend?”
“No, she didn’t come. But you can see us? How’s that possible? You’r
e a dream.” I took another bite of the cookie. I was going to regret waking up. The cookie tasted like . . .
“Jill, Jill, wake up,” Greg’s voice called through the kitchen doorway.
I stood and glanced back at the woman and little girl. “Thanks for the snack. I guess I better be going.”
“Jill. Oh, God, Jill. Please wake up.” Greg’s voice sounded too frantic, too scared.
I lifted my hand to wave good-bye, but the kitchen was gone. My hand felt like it weighed thirty pounds. I strained to lift it higher. Blinking my eyes, I saw Greg staring at me. “Why is my hand so heavy?”
“Are you okay?” Greg touched my face and took a shaky breath. “You’re finally feeling warmer than ice. I didn’t know what was going on. You were so cold. And I couldn’t get you to wake up.”
I pulled the sleeping bag closer. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Actually, it’s about seventy-five. I just checked the temperature. What happened? Do you have seizures?” Now Greg was all in cop mode trying to make sense of what he’d experienced.
“No, I don’t have seizures. I went to sleep, and then I had a dream.” I paused as I thought about my conversation with Maryanne. I was sure it was her. “Then I heard you calling me. And I left the chocolate chip cookie and came back.”
“You must love me.” Greg pulled me into his arms.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Yes, I was uncomfortable with the L word, but I didn’t understand what loving Greg had to do with the dream.
“You had a cookie yet you still came back for me.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable under his intense gaze. “Maybe I made the wrong decision.”
“Probably, but everyone’s waiting on us to go out to breakfast. I went down earlier and got coffee. When I came back up to get you, you had turned into Sleeping Beauty.”
I pushed him away from the bed and grabbed some clothes from my tote to change into. “I suppose running water is too much to ask. I’d kill for a shower.”
“Your wish.” Greg pointed to the hallway. “Third door on the left. I put towels in there, but I think all the girls have been up to shower before you, so you’ll have to make do.”