by I Beacham
Featherstone looked at Kiernan, his eyes slanted and challenging, like a possessive lover. No, it wasn’t an adorable look.
She changed the subject. “You know, for someone who has a ghost, you seem rather relaxed.”
Ele sat adjacent to her in a matching armchair, and firelight played across her face. When she answered the door, Kiernan didn’t expect to see her dressed so casually in a pair of ripped cargo pants and an oversized T-shirt with a motif so faded it could no longer be read. The fact she wasn’t dressed up for the camera did nothing to diminish how attractive she was. She thought of some of the women she had dated and their finicky obsession with dress and makeup. Ungraciously, she thought how different some of them looked once the fine clothes and makeup were removed. They could have been other people entirely. True beauty held firm regardless of how it was presented.
Ele was answering her question, her eyes focused in some contemplative state, watching her own fingers trace around the rim of her mug. Her eyes were bright, and yet there was no customary smile Kiernan was growing to expect.
“Not relaxed,” Ele said seriously. “I find this all rather frightening, but…” She swept a hand slowly, dramatically, in front of her, left to right. “I think this all explains a lot, and actually, I feel just a little relieved.”
“Relieved?” You have a spirit traipsing around your property, and you feel relieved?
“I’ve had these funny feelings of being watched, and I was beginning to wonder if I was being stalked.” Ele grew more thoughtful as she placed her mug down and bent forward, her arms now folded in her lap. She looked as if she were trying to contain herself. “Do you have to be anywhere?” Ele asked.
“No,” Kiernan answered. She had nowhere to be, no one waiting at home for her. Not anymore. Not so long ago, she had loved. She had shared her dreams, and everything that mattered in life, with her lover. She had been loved back. She still clung to that, praying it was true, for if the love hadn’t been there, then how deceitful and cruel life could be. But now it was all over, and the love was gone. She knew there was no place she wanted to be more than here at this moment. Her body turned toward Ele, almost without thought, the non-spoken message inviting her to continue.
“Things have been happening lately,” Ele said. “I feel as if someone is observing me. I never see or hear anything, but it’s when you just know something is wrong, when the hairs on the back of your neck—”
“You thought you were being stalked?”
“Yes. I had some work done outside, earlier this year. There used to be an old building opposite the kitchen and across the courtyard. It was a stable block divided into three separate areas. One was the stable, and another, the tack room. The third was additional storage. Anyway, I had a builder come in and knock the three into one and convert it all into my studio.”
Kiernan had taken a few shots of Ele in her studio, a large bright room painted white and with a glass roof that flooded the room with natural light. It was where she had “captured” Ele’s elegant hands.
“There was a young bricklayer working for Roger, the builder. I think he had a crush on me. It seemed everywhere I was, so was this young man. Whenever I arrived home, or went outside, he was always there, looking at me. Over time, it began to needle me, but I thought he was harmless and that once the work was finished, he’d be gone. However, I’ve been having feelings of being watched ever since.”
“Like the ones at the gazebo when I was taking photos.”
“Oh yes, and much more. I know he’s a local lad, and he could easily walk up from Pegmire. I thought maybe it was him, but now these photos. They explain a lot.”
They explain nothing. “How long have you lived here?”
“We bought it about thirteen years ago.”
There was that we again, and Kiernan’s thoughts returned to the photo on the piano. There were other photos in the room, many with the same affectionate looking woman. She saw none of any man. “And you’ve never had these feelings before?”
“Never.” Ele rose. “Can I show you what work was done, while we still have daylight?”
They moved across the hallway and into a modern, contemporary kitchen. From there they walked out the back door and into a newly laid courtyard. Kiernan looked at a covered walkway about six yards long that stretched between the kitchen and the converted studio. A trellised frame ran along its length, where evidence suggested Ele was trying to train plants.
“Roses?” Kiernan asked.
“Wisteria,” she said. “I did buy some roses to put in the borders, but I don’t know whether I bought a dud lot or just left them in their pots too long before planting them out. They’re all dead.” She indicated a small garden refuse area to the far side of the studio where half a dozen roses, still in their plastic pots, were discarded.
“I think the Wisteria will look nice once it becomes established,” Ele said. “I want to put some softness back into the area. I had Roger take out some of the old garden over there.” She pointed to the right and farther down from the studio. “It was a mess. Just a grassy area with a few old shrubs and seating that always looked unkempt. Now it’s all been paved over, I can drive my car up here and wash it if I want. It’s far more practical and less gardening.”
The new area looked fit for the purpose, and Kiernan thought the rustic, cobbled brickwork attractive. It felt in keeping with the period of the house, and she considered the builder had done a sterling job. She watched as the cat, which had followed them out, sat in the middle of the courtyard.
“And these feelings all started about the time of the building works?” Kiernan asked.
Ele looked at her edgily. “Yes.”
“The builder didn’t find anything?”
“Oh, wait. He did say he’d found a pile of bones and a human skull with an arrow through it.” She smiled at Kiernan.
Kiernan shrugged as she realized the stupidity of her question. She grinned sheepishly. “Point taken.”
“Yes, but you do have a point,” Ele said. “These strange happenings have only started since the work was done. It stands to reason that something has been disturbed.”
“The question is what.”
Ele stood and regarded what lay around her, as if seeing it all for the first time with new eyes. Kiernan saw a change of emotions cross her face and an uneasiness fall on her as she spoke.
“What if someone is buried here and we’ve disturbed him? And if that’s so, who is he and why is he here? Has he been murdered? I mean, you don’t bury people in your garden, by a stable, do you?”
“No, you don’t, but I think you’re allowing your thoughts to run wild.” There was a disturbing anxiousness building in Ele that Kiernan wanted to dispel, except she couldn’t because she was having the exact same thoughts, and none of them were very pleasant. If this were happening at her property, she’d be hiding her head under her pillows.
“You can bury ashes,” Kiernan said pathetically. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but the bereaved sometimes buried or scattered the ashes of their loved ones in the garden. It was legal. Maybe this is what had happened, and the builders had disturbed someone’s last resting place. Kiernan didn’t rate this. Who would bury someone next to a stable unless it was their dying wish to be buried with their cherished, departed horse? Somehow the man in the photos didn’t look like the horsey type. She added, “And this may have nothing to do with this area. He’s in photos all over the garden, not just here.”
But she didn’t believe that either. Ele was telling her that the only recent changes to the place were by the studio. She caught herself thinking of her last few days and what started out as a simple photo shoot for a county magazine. Now it took a sinister turn. What was she going to send to Tom? She couldn’t send him external photos. She’d have to send him internal ones and hope they’d suffice.
“What if he is watching us now?” Ele broke Kiernan’s chain of thought.
They stared at each ot
her, knowing it was likely. An inner voice whispered to Kiernan, what if he is watching Ele now? The ghost seemed interested in just her. A protective surge swept over her, and without voicing her worries, she placed a hand on Ele’s back as she gently, but firmly pushed her into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.
Ele stopped halfway in the room and faced her. “I’m not a weak woman, Kiernan, and I don’t frighten easily, but this is something beyond my scope of understanding. What should I do?”
The question was a good one. Unfortunately, Kiernan had no idea. It wasn’t her problem, but she didn’t feel obliged to walk away from it either. Although she was trying, Ele was having difficulty hiding her fear. It served to reinforce a decision Kiernan made earlier. “I don’t want to impose or anything, but I’d like to help you, if I can.”
Ele’s hand reached for hers and Kiernan felt a tingle rush down her spine.
“Oh, thank you. I don’t know where to start. A person can deal with a stalker. There’s a well established process to follow, but this? My home is haunted and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Kiernan squeezed her hand with fake reassurance as she recalled her own fright from last night as she had studied the photos. She had needed to stop looking at the horrifying and intense piercing eyes of the unknown man. Her concern for Ele was genuine. If this was escalating, what might it escalate to? She also knew Ele’s fear was greater than hers, for this was her home and she couldn’t walk away. She was stuck with whatever was happening—or would happen in the future. Kiernan had believed that haunting and the uncanny were things you read in books or paid money to go to the movies and be scared witless. Ghosts did not exist. They were not real life. Not until now.
“I’m going to do whatever I can to help you. You’re not alone in this.” Gratitude flooded Ele’s face. “It’s getting late, and whatever is going on, we’re not going to solve it tonight.” She tried to formulate a plan on the hoof, to say anything reasonable that might give Ele hope. “I’m not working tomorrow. What if I come back in the morning and we fine-study those photos? See if we can find any clues, anything that pinpoints this man to a period of time. At least then we can narrow down our search.”
Kiernan still held Ele’s hand, not wanting to let it go. She tried not to dwell on why that was and forced herself to concentrate on the bigger issue. “I also have an idea, something I want to try. Something that’s in the back of my mind, but I don’t want to say anything now in case I’m wrong. Tomorrow would be better when we’re both fresh.” She was beginning to think about something she’d seen in the photos and how, tonight at home, she might run another computer program to test a theory.
Ele accepted, with resignation, that Kiernan spoke sense. “Thank you for offering to help. It seems a little incredible after all the insults I threw at you yesterday.”
“Forget that.” Kiernan meant it.
“There’s no one I can turn to, at least no one I trust. That’s the problem of living alone, I suppose.”
She caught something in Ele’s voice. The word “alone” echoed more than merely someone living in a house by herself. There was an ache behind it, and catching its resonance, Kiernan realized that while it answered one of her questions, it just begged more.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” She tugged Ele’s hand before letting it go. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this, but we will get to the bottom of it together.”
As she drove home, the fettles of ghostly happenings dropped from her thoughts and a bombardment of other, more interesting ones crossed her mind. She could still feel her hand tingling, the one Ele had grasped. The one Kiernan hadn’t wanted her to let go. Kiernan had been quick to volunteer her assistance and though genuine, her intentions weren’t all about delivering good deeds and being concerned for someone’s safety. Kiernan breathed out heavily as if she’d been holding her breath all the time she’d been with Ele.
She knew exactly what was going on. Her attractive “app” had switched back on and was focusing in on Ele. It had taken nearly two years for that to happen. “Damaged heart, lost love, and all that crap,” Kiernan said to herself. “Just don’t get too keen, Kiernan Foyle, Ele isn’t interested in you, only your support, and do you really want to get hurt again so soon? You can sleep again now. How long has that taken?”
For less than fifteen seconds, she just concentrated on her driving. Then she said, “Yes, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. False heart never won a lady’s hand. I’m still a hot-blooded woman, and I can dream.” Just don’t do anything stupid, she thought as she turned the radio on to drown the irritating self-communing in her head.
Chapter Seven
Ele was glad when Kiernan arrived early the next day. Although she could tell there was something on her mind and that she was itching to start taking photos again, she didn’t do so immediately. Instead, she put her camera equipment down and concentrated on Ele.
“Now, how are you, Ele? Have you managed to get any sleep?” It felt far more than a passing “How are you,” something everyone asks by rote, but very few genuinely want to know. Ele felt reassured. She still wasn’t convinced that Kiernan forgave her recent rudeness. The fact that she was taking time to ask such questions, rather than forge ahead with ghost hunting, implied she had. Although the interlude was brief, it held such quality for Ele and brought her comfort. It was nice to know Kiernan was concerned for her. She really was beginning to like her.
Forty minutes later, they sat together in the kitchen. Ele watched Kiernan multitask as she consumed toast and coffee while loading the morning’s shots onto her laptop. Whatever she was up to, she was excited and keen to reveal her discovery.
“Take a look at these three photos of the man,” Kiernan said calmly, her focus intent on the screen. “Do you notice anything?”
Ele didn’t, only that the photos were all taken the day before yesterday and in the same place, with the man staring at her. They were identical.
Kiernan looked disappointed and shook a finger. “They all look the same, but they’re not. Look at his hands, specifically his one hand. It’s moving. It’s not moving much, but it is changing position.”
“I don’t see it.” If there was movement, it was miniscule. She didn’t understand what Kiernan was getting at, but she could sense she was on to something. Regrettably, it seemed Kiernan was an analytic type that talked around things before getting to the point. Ele was all action; show me the findings, then explain.
“This morning, I tried an experiment,” Kiernan said. “I retook some photos of the places where the ghost appears, and guess what?”
“What?” Ele tried to hide her frustration.
Kiernan grinned, and Ele suspected she knew her slow deliberations aggravated her. It didn’t encourage speed. “He didn’t reappear in the photos, and do you know why?”
“No.” Ele’s answer was slow. Her eyes narrowed as her impatience grew.
“Because you weren’t in them,” Kiernan explained. “Now, this morning when I asked you to step into the sitting room and stand by your desk near the window while I took some shots….”
Ele sensed a fait accompli approaching.
“This happened.” Kiernan turned her computer for Ele to see.
She was horrified. The ghost stood outside the window, about two feet away from the pane. His somber, unsmiling face with the haunting eyes stared at her. How many times had she sat at that desk working on her manuscript and thought she was being watched? Now it appeared her instincts were right.
“Our man reappears because you are there. It seems he only materializes when you are being photographed or when you take shots, and then only outside. Now, look at the photos I’ve taken this morning and where he’s present.”
Ele looked hard. “Sorry, Kiernan, I’m not seeing it.” Her annoyance was self-focused. Why couldn’t she see what Kiernan could and so clearly? “They just look like lots of shots of the same picture with him in them.” She looked at Kier
nan hard. “For heaven’s sake, explain this to me, please.”
Kiernan raised her hands. “Okay. This morning I used my motor drive on the camera. It takes multiple frames per second. Now look at those same photos when I show you them all, one after the other, but at speed. Watch his hands, Ele.”
Ele nearly choked. Looking at each photo in isolation revealed nothing, but when they were speed sequenced, it reminded her of a book she once had as a child. As she flicked through each page, a little man “walked” along the top corner. It was a visual illusion, of course, but as she watched the ghost, he moved too, but this was real. His hand slowly rose from his side to rest at a right angle. There was no doubt he was pointing to something.
“He’s trying to tell you something, Ele. You,” Kiernan stressed.
“Oh, great. I’m being stalked by a ghost!”
It was a fascinating discovery, but it did nothing to eradicate Ele’s fears. She was scared. It was a disturbing sensation to know a ghost had a personal fixation on her. “Why isn’t he interested in you? You’re the one with the camera, the one who might unlock this. Why is he so intent on focusing on me, and where is he pointing?”
Kiernan had no answers and said so. “I want to take some more shots of you outside using the motor drive. Maybe if we get different shots all around the house, we might be able to triangulate this and identify where he’s pointing.”
They took their shots, and it came as little surprise to discover that the pointing finger lead them to one general spot—where the building works had been.
*
Later that day, they sat in Ele’s sitting room, hunched close on the sofa, poring over photos with investigative absorption. They were seeking clues that might reveal who the man was and when he lived.