by C. D. Gorri
It didn’t make sense.
All he wanted to do was explore their options, but he had some unfinished business at hand before any of them would be safe.
“Get ready.” McChesney closed his eyes. “It’s time.”
“Did someone think to call the children? They might enjoy this.”
“If you want to get the little buggers, you go right ahead,” Diesel snarked, giving Mrs. Pennyweather the stink eye.
She huffed, spun on her heel and stomped back into the house, not even noticing when her hand gripped the door and she opened it without thinking.
Lowell couldn’t help but grin. One of these days, he was going to catch them locking lips in the pantry. There had always been sparks, but both of them were too stubborn to admit it.
“Lowell…” Zoe’s voice shook, her fear sending a douse of cold water on his merriment.
If they didn’t pull this off, there might be another ghost residing at Mercer Cliff House and he didn’t want that for her. She had too much life to live.
The moment the veil thinned, he felt it in his bones. Rooted to the earth, he took a deep sigh and pulled Zoe into his embrace.
She wrapped her arms around him and he caught her lips in a kiss.
God’s bones, he’d missed her.
She’d taken the time to see him. To dance with him. To listen to him. Him. A stranger. A ghost. But she hadn’t seen him that way at all.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it found its way to his ears.
“Me too.” He buried his face in the thick mane of her hair. She smelled of cinnamon and apples and sugar cookies. Ah, but he wanted to revel in the softness of her skin and never let her go. His hands followed the curve of her back just above the swell of her lush backside and he cursed the fact that they were wearing clothes.
A clearing of a throat broke his train of thought.
“Perhaps later? We have a certain matter to attend to.”
Lowell looked up just in time to see the two men push open the front door and step onto the porch. He let himself go invisible and prepared for attack.
“Zoe. Run.”
Chapter Eight
“Where you going, honey? You’re not supposed to be on the grounds after lights out,” the stockier one ground out.
Zoe was already halfway across the back yard before he started running. And then, chaos erupted behind her. Ghostly children appeared on the lawn and the men darted off in different directions, trying unsuccessfully to avoid them.
“What the hell?”
“Shit!”
Zoe just kept running.
Where was Lowell?
She watched him lapse into his invisible self as the men appeared. Well, him and the others. She hoped to hell they had a good plan beyond the kids scaring them, because she was all out of ideas.
All she could do was run.
“We just need to talk to you. Stop!” The other man shouted, and she heard his heavy breathing as he joined his buddy. “Granddad’s journal didn’t say nothing about this.”
Granddad?
Her lungs burned as she pumped her legs faster, the dress hindering her movement. Zoe’s mind began to whirl.
They came here because of a journal?
What role did they really have to play?
“Hurry, Zoe!” Randall floated alongside of her, his expression filled with worry.
Trying to run in heels was the worst possible thing ever, but even still, she was faster than they were.
“It was your idea to wear these shoes!”
“How was I supposed to know you’d be running from a pair of murderous thugs? They go great with that dress.”
Zoe bit back a retort and grit her teeth.
Pausing long enough to kick off her shoes, she scooped them up and took off again. The grass was cool and damp under her stocking feet but when she got just past the tree line, she froze. Pine needles poked at her toes and she shivered in the darkness. It was either this or who knew what at the hands of the assholes coming up behind her.
“Come back here!”
She took a gingerly step forward, then screeched as an invisible hand covered her mouth. Moments later, Lowell appeared, whisking her into his arms.
“Where did you go?” Her heart beat wild and her breath was labored from pushing herself so hard.
“We had to muster the forces,” he replied grimly. “Look.”
A few steps away was what appeared to be a family cemetery, and next to that, a separate gated section.
“What’s that?”
“My family’s plot. And the folks who died at the sanitarium.”
Her arms prickled with goose bumps. Here, the dead would seriously outnumber the living. She could already feel them tugging at her, urging her forward so her energy could touch them.
“Oh.”
Zoe bent down to slip her shoes back into her heels and slowly made her way over to the graves. “There are so many.”
“Tuberculosis wasn’t a kind disease.”
“I suppose not.”
“Come over here. By the mausoleum. It’ll be harder for the men to see you.”
Zoe swallowed. She hated graveyards.
“Is that where…” God, she couldn’t even finish the question. And she sure hadn’t intended to look at the names on the placard.
Mercer Family. Here lies…
Her tummy fluttered and she gripped the side of the building.
No.
She couldn’t do it.
Zoe swallowed and turned back to gauge his reaction.
He gave a single nod, glancing toward the two men still dodging ghost children and making their way through the brush.
“Zoe…look.” Randall pointed toward the graveyard.
A stirring in her brought her senses up short. They had sensed her. The ghosts. And now there would be no escape.
Ghostly forms crept up from graves tucked into the shadows, their gazes snapping toward Zoe.
No.
Oh, God.
She closed her eyes and counted to ten, letting the fear slide off her like water. They wouldn’t hurt her. They were here to help. Maybe if she tried to muffle it now…but her guess was it would be too late. Whoever was listening was most likely coming up for a visit, whether she liked it or not.
Zoe sucked in a ragged breath. She started to shut herself off but then an idea sprouted.
“They said something when they started after me. Did you hear it?”
“No. What?”
“Something about their grandfather’s journal.”
Lips pursed, Lowell narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”
“Did you…did you know the names of the men who attacked you that day?”
“Not then.” He looked off, thoughtful. “But since, there’s been some talk. Clive Gunther tried to coerce my parents to sell the land and the house but they refused.”
“Why?”
“This was their home.”
“No,” Zoe shook her head. “I mean, why would they want you to leave? Was there some kind of value to the property?”
An odd smile turned up the corner of Lowell’s mouth. “There’s a creek on our land. Just a bit past the cemetery. If you listen hard, you can hear it. Just before all of this, my father had been out there and discovered gold. There had been talk of searching for a mine but it never came to much.”
“Have you seen your parents?”
“No.” Lowell replied sadly. “They’ve gone to their final reward.”
Movement caught the corner of Zoe’s gaze and she gasped as two strangers slipped into view.
“Fiddlesticks, boy. You just haven’t been paying attention.” A well-kempt older man in an old-fashioned suit slipped through the wall of the mausoleum, a well-coifed mature woman in a beautiful pink gown on his arm.
“Now, Carlisle. Don’t be harsh. It’s not his fault he couldn’t hear us.” The woman left his side and drifted over to Lowell. �
��Oh, my dear boy. It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“Mother… Father…” Lowell’s eyes widened and he clasped his mother’s hands.
Zoe blinked, and took a step back, letting the scene unfold in front of her.
Had her gift let them see each other?
Warmth slid through her at the thought.
“You did it.” Randall grinned, socking her in the shoulder with his elbow. Normally, it went right through, but this time, it connected.
“Owww.” Frowning at him and rubbing at her arm, she gestured toward the newly departed…or ghostified, or whatever the hell she was supposed to call them.
Lowell’s parents.
“It’s good to see you, boy.”
“Likewise, sir.”
“Things are a bit of a mess.”
“Not for much longer,” Lowell responded, eyes hard.
“I think the two men are after what their grandfather started.” Zoe met Carlisle Mercer’s eyes, not flinching. There wasn’t much time for niceties.
“Indeed. That would pose a problem.”
“Not for me it wouldn’t.” McChesney materialized from the darkness, dozens of ghostly companions by his side. “You forget, I know where the skeletons are buried.”
Carlisle coughed and it turned into a raucous burst of laughter. “Well, perhaps there need to be a couple more.”
“Honestly.” Lowell’s mother tapped her fan in irritation.
“If they die here, won’t they just keep trying?” Zoe sputtered.
“Oh, don’t kill them in the house! The blood will take a week to get out of the carpets!” Mrs. Pennyweather wailed. “Hello, Mrs. Carlisle. It’s lovely to see you again.”
“Pennyweather! Most excellent.” Mrs. Carlisle opened her fan, waved it absently, then snapped it shut. She started marching into the darkness, the others staring at her like she’d lost her mind. “Come. We have a visit to make.”
Chapter Nine
“Where are you going?” Lowell stared after his mother and Mrs. Pennyweather as they disappeared into the shadows.
“Well, don’t just stand there gawping, boy. Follow her.” His father harrumphed, marching off into the woods after his bride.
Zoe grinned.
“What?”
“They’re adorable.”
Lowell rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to smile. “Come on. The kids have the other two well in hand. Let’s find out what my mother is up to.”
Zoe put her small hand in his and he strode into the darkness, a sneaking suspicion where his mother might be heading to.
The sound of rushing water grew louder and the tree line thinned the closer they got to the river’s edge. But off to the side, there was a small cabin that appeared to be used by long ago hunters. He vaguely remembered it from his time before, but it was on the border between Gunther and Mercer lands, so he’d avoided it like the plague.
“Zoe. Could you come here, please?” His mother paused, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up.
“Yes, ma’am.” Still having trouble navigating in her strange high-heeled footwear, Zoe made her way toward the cabin.
“Do you feel him?”
“Who, ma’am?” Zoe inquired; her brow furrowed in question.
“I’ll give you a moment.” She tapped her fan against her skirts, staring off into the darkness.
“Damn it, woman. I told you not to come back here,” a voice rose from the darkness of the cabin’s interior and a specter emerged. His clothes were worn and dusty, his hair disheveled, and he appeared as if he’d been taking a dirt nap under a bed of cobwebs.
Then it hit him.
It was Clive Gunther.
Son of a bitch.
“What are you doing here?” Lowell started forward, his fists balled and ready for trouble.
“Your girl there called me and not the other way around,” Gunther spat. “And you. I told you it was done. Your land was safe.”
“But it wasn’t. Was it?” His mother raised her chin and took a step toward the other man. “And neither were we.”
“Elise?” His father’s strangled question sent chills up Lowell’s spine.
“No.” Gunther turned away, but not before Lowell could see the anguish in his eyes. “They shouldn’t have come after you. It was my fault.”
“I ended our courtship with honor. But your greed put my family in the ground.” Lowell’s mother stared the other man down, her chin raised in defiance.
“He should have been my son,” Gunther spat, turning back. His rapier gaze went from Lowell to his mother, finally resting on his father.
“I had no quarrel with you, Gunther. But I wasn’t going to sell Elise’s family lands to you either.”
“She was supposed to be mine.”
His mother stood up straight and dug her heels into the ground. “You didn’t own me then, and you don’t own me now. Get your kin to stand down, or there will be two more bodies buried in the earth tonight.”
This was his mother talking?
Lowell gaped as what she was saying sunk in.
Gunther had courted his mother.
This was about jilted love?
But he wasn’t the only one startled by her outburst.
“What?”
“Your grandsons are here,” Zoe murmured. “They read your journal and now they’re convinced there’s gold. And if they find the deed to the house, it will all be theirs. Even if they have to commit another murder to do it.”
The anger slipped from the ghost as fast as it came.
“No more,” Gunther whispered. “Gods, no more.”
“Tell them to stand down, Clive. You were a man of honor, once. Tell them there is no gold.” His mother moved toward the man, her face unreadable.
“But that wouldn’t be true, now would it?” Lowell stated, watching Gunther.
“No.” The other man pointed to a pile of rocks just to the side of the cabin. “After you were gone, I came up here. Town was poisoned against me. But I did find some gold, for all the good it did me.”
“Were you happy?” his mother asked.
His bitter laugh echoed through the night.
“I died up here, alone.”
“Oh, Clive.”
“I don’t want your sympathy,” he ground out, his expression hard. “I just want to make it right.”
“Well, then.” His mother cleared her throat. “You have two choices. Stop them now, or we will.”
A commotion behind Lowell brought him around to find the two men in question barreling toward the river.
Chapter Ten
“Lowell.” Zoe’s voice shook and she clasped his hand. He thrust her behind him, but the men had already seen her.
“You led us on a merry chase.”
“Leave her alone,” the old man barked. He came closer, the glow of his spectral form iridescent in the night.
Lowell’s mother was poised to attack, a trembling Mrs. Pennyweather standing by.
“Who the hell are you?” the younger one bit out, his voice shaking.
“The man who wrote the journal you’re touting, that’s who.” Gunther approached. “You want gold, take it.” He kicked at a pile of what looked like rocks near the dilapidated lodge. A glimmer of gold was revealed.
“How do I know you ain’t tricking us?” The older of the two stared at Zoe. “If you are, this one joins you.”
“He’s not.” Zoe gulped.
“Take it and leave or I’ll bury you where you stand.” The mechanic appeared beside Mrs. Pennyweather, putting himself in front of her and Lowell’s mother.
“You’re a ghost. You ca...can’t hurt us.” None of them missed the stutter.
“Most nights you’d be right about that, son.” McChesney came from the graveyard beyond the woods, the dozens of specters and haunts following behind. “But midnight struck and it’s All Hallows’ Eve.”
“You wouldn’t” They took a step back.
“You want to try th
at assumption, son? I don’t think it will get you far.” McChesney smiled a terrible smile, the pleasant veneer of his face falling away to the reality of what death had brought him to.
As if on cue, all of the ghosts pushed toward the two men, their spectral bodies true to form. Screaming, the men ran toward the cabin, scooping what gold they could into their pockets, taking off into the night.
“Should we follow them?” Mrs. Pennyweather wrung her hands, her eyes crinkled with worry.
“No. I think we’ve seen the last of them.” Lowell gave her a small smile, his gaze following the men’s vanishing forms.
“Well, that ought to take care of that.” Lowell’s mother snapped her fan against her skirts.
“Elise?” Clive Gunther stepped toward her with his hand raised, but at her glare, he dropped it and hung his head.
Lowell’s father scowled at his wife, then responded, “We thank you for your intervention, sir.”
“It’s the least I could have done. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Goodbye, Clive. And thank you.”
The old man gave her a nod, then shuffled back to the cabin, disappearing from sight.
“Do you think that’s the last of them?” Zoe swallowed.
“If they’ve any sense,” McChesney replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, these bones are tired.”
“Creaky bag of bluster.” The mechanic huffed, turning to Mrs. Pennyweather. “Now that that’s done, will you walk with me a spell?”
The apple-cheeked ghost blushed and tucked her arm inside of his. “I’d like that.”
Zoe bit back a grin, and sobered up as she caught sight of Lowell’s parents walking alongside the river, lost in conversation.
One by one, the spectral participants fell away, leaving her alone with a very pensive Lowell.
“I’ll meet you back in your room. There’s something I have to do first.”
Chapter Eleven
“Catch you later, alligator.” Randall winked at Zoe as he hustled out the door of their room. His hot date with Geoff was due to start any time, and with morning fast approaching, she knew he didn’t want to waste a second. Although technically, they had until midnight before natural order took over once again.