Restless Spirits

by Michelle Scott

  David jumped to his feet. “Get out! Ethan, we need to leave!”

  “Not yet,” Ethan shouted back. The wind was stronger now, blowing his hair out of his face. The smell of roses was enough to gag him. “Grant and Tessa, go!”

  Rose petals began dropping from the ceiling, falling so thickly that drifts of red formed in the room. Icy water rose from the floorboards. “Meredith! I know who hurt you! It wasn’t your fault.”

  Grant was trying to drag Tessa out of the door, but she planted herself, refusing to budge. “What happened to her?” she demanded.

  “She was raped by a friend of the family’s, and she got pregnant. Then her baby died.” David said.

  Tessa gasped. She looked around the room as if searching for the spirit. “Is that your baby I’ve heard crying? I lost my daughter, too.” She opened her arms wide. “I know what you’re going through. I’m living with the same pain!”

  “Meredith!” Ethan shouted above the wind. “What do you want?”

  Tessa shrieked. Whirling, Ethan saw the drowned woman looming over the crib. Her mouth was drawn up in a rictus of either pain or horrible pleasure. Swiftly, the spirit crossed the room, swooping low over Ethan’s head. He ducked, but felt a sick thrill as her essence passed through him.

  Tessa jumped to her feet to run away, but Meredith caught up with her and wrapped her ghostly arms around Tessa’s waist. Grant howled in rage and went to rescue his wife.

  “Get them out of here,” Ethan shouted to David. David grabbed his sister’s hand and yanked, but it was too late. The ghost had overpowered his sister. Tessa slumped to the floor.

  “What do you want?” Ethan demanded of the ghost. “How can I help you?”

  The image of the drowned woman hung in the doorway, beckoning him. David seized Ethan’s hand. “Don’t do it,” he begged. Ethan shook him off. It was worth doing Meredith’s bidding if only to put her to rest. After what she’d been through, she deserved that. And Tessa and Grant deserved to live in their home unmolested.

  “I’ll be back,” Ethan said and hurried out of the room. Halfway down the hallway, he heard Tessa sob.

  “I remember!” she screamed. “I remember everything!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tessa declaration came to Ethan as distant as a dream. He was too focused on Meredith to turn back. The luminescent ghost urged him forward, through the dark rooms of the mansion. Ethan felt himself hovering between two worlds – the solid world he normally inhabited, and the ethereal world of the spirit.

  Meredith, too, seemed to be straddling worlds. She was solidifying, becoming the young woman from the photograph. Her footsteps took on weight, and Ethan could now hear the scuff of her slippers on the hardwood floor. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  Meredith didn’t reply, but she looked over her shoulder to smile at him. Her skin was now rosy and healthy, and her moldering wrap had become a proper dress. The mansion was changing, too. Instead of the dark, stormy sky, sunlight poured through the windows. The furniture became brighter and less shabby. With every step, Ethan felt himself moving backwards in time.

  Though he hurried, he couldn’t catch up with Meredith. She was always two steps ahead of him. She led him down the grand staircase, across the entry, and through the first-floor lounge. Ethan glanced in the mirror as he passed, but couldn’t see himself. He was now the ghost. But Meredith knew he was there. She wanted him to witness something, and he wasn’t about to let her down.

  They left the manor through a side door and went down the flagstone path that led past David’s cottage. Flowers bloomed alongside the house which no longer seemed sinister. The sound of waves washing up onto the shore grew closer. They were heading to the beach.

  All at once, Meredith stopped walking. The smile died on her lips. Clouds passed over the sun, throwing the world into gloom. A man called Meredith’s name. Turning, Ethan saw David, the man who had raped Meredith. He was storming towards her, a look of determination in his eyes.

  Meredith hitched up her skirts and ran. David chased after her. Ethan threw himself at the man, but he passed right through his body and landed on the ground. Here, he had no physical shape and could do nothing to help the young woman. “Run!” he cried to Meredith.

  Although encumbered by her dress, Meredith was quick. She darted through the garden and towards the surrounding woods. David had to stop to catch his breath, but she kept running. When David had his wind, he started up the chase again. Ethan ran after him. He had to stop this! But he couldn’t think of anything he could do. He tried shouting and even picked up a stone to throw, but the stone fell through his ghostly fingers, and the man didn’t bother to turn around at the sound of his voice. Desperate, Ethan looked around for someone else who might intervene, but the garden was empty. Meredith was on her own.

  Meredith was almost to the woods when she stumbled over one of the flagstones and went sprawling onto her stomach. David gave a cry of victory and put on speed. He caught Meredith’s arm just as she was getting to her feet. Viciously, he wrenched her elbow up behind her back. “You’re coming with me,” he growled.

  “You killed her!” Meredith shouted. “Rose looked like you, and so you killed her!” Rage made her voice ragged. She fought against his grip, but he was too strong. He forced her to continue walking towards the water’s edge. Every time she tried to claw her way free, he lifted up on her elbow, subduing her. She began to cry.

  Ethan was beside himself with grief. He pummeled David’s back, but his ghostly fists did no damage. He couldn’t block their way or get David to stop. A storm was rolling in. The wind picked up, and the waves became more aggressive. David, however, didn’t slacken his pace and didn’t stop walking until he’d wrestled Meredith out to the lighthouse.

  Meredith was like a hissing, spitting cat. Her eyes and hair were wild. Tears streaked her cheeks. “You’re a murdered,” she howled at David. “You killed your own child.”

  “Quiet!” he demanded, shaking her. “You have to keep your mouth shut about this.”

  “I won’t!” Meredith shouted back. “I’ll find a way to make my parents believe me. My father already suspects. He found out from one of the servants that you were in the house the night you raped me.”

  David howled at Meredith to keep quiet, but it was too late. Knowing that he was about to be found out, his face reddened. A vein pulsed in his forehead. “No one will know about this,” he snarled. “The secret will die with you!”

  Before Meredith could offer a defense, David flung her into Lake Superior. She screamed as she hit the water. “No!” David wailed. “No!” He dropped to his knees. So this was the terrible secret that Meredith had wanted him to know. She hadn’t killed herself; she’d been murdered. As Meredith faded from sight, Ethan put his head in his hands. No! He wanted so desperately to save her, but it was too late.

  The world clouded up more and more until Ethan couldn’t see a thing. Then, like a fresh wind blowing away smoke, the air cleared and he could see. It was still very dark, but he could just make out the spindly legs of the lighthouse and the occasional wink of a star overhead.

  He shivered in the cold night air. Hopefully, now that the mystery was solved, Meredith’s spirit would finally be at rest. Ethan got to his feet. They could have a proper burial for her. Maybe even move her and Rose’s remains into the circle of the graveyard so that they wouldn’t have to be alone. He couldn’t do anything to alter her past, but at least he could make sure she was treated respectfully now.

  He didn’t see the shape behind him until Jeremy swung the golf club at his head. The club caught Ethan across the bridge of his nose. The pain doubled him over. “You helped her remember!” Jeremy shouted. He swung again, this time getting Ethan in the ribs. Something popped and Ethan fell backwards onto the cement of the pier. “She knows it was me!

  The words slowly penetrated Ethan’s fog of pain. “You killed Faith?” he gasped.

  “I told Tessa to come away with me, but
she refused. Instead, she went and had his baby! Grant doesn’t deserve her!” Jeremy swung the club, but this time Ethan rolled aside, and the club smacked the pavement.

  “This is all your fault,” Jeremey growled. “If you hadn’t come up, she wouldn’t have remembered. Now what am I supposed to do?”

  Ethan struggled to get to his feet, but before he could, Jeremy picked him up. Jeremy was a large, solidly-built man and he hefted Ethan like a bag of laundry. “You deserve this,” he said and flung Ethan into the lake.

  Ethan gasped when he hit the icy water. As he sank, he had the sudden, terrifying feeling that he couldn’t tell which way was up. His injured rib made swimming nearly impossible. It was the nightmare all over again. Water surrounded him. There was no way out.

  His last thought was of David.

  A pair of strong arms gripped him around the waist and hauled him to the surface of the water. Ethan coughed and gagged until he was able to get air back into his lungs. He was dragged out of the lake and onto the wet cement of the pier. David clamored out of the water and knelt by his side.

  “Is he all right?” Tessa asked.

  “I don’t know.” David sounded frantic. “Ethan!” He leaned in to check Ethan’s breathing. “Can you hear me?”

  Ethan began coughing again and struggled to sit up. David helped him. “Jeremy!” Ethan croaked. “He pushed me into the lake.”

  “I know,” David said. “We saw him running away from the beach. Grant went after him.” He pushed Ethan’s wet hair out of his eyes. “It’s okay. It’s all over.”

  David built up the fire on the hearth in his cottage. Ethan snuggled into the eiderdown and sipped the brandy David had fetched him. He wasn’t quite warm yet, but he was close.

  David slipped under the comforter with him. “You scared me to death,” he said for the hundredth time.

  “So, you’ve said,” Ethan returned drily. He slid his hand onto David’s knee.

  “No, I’m serious.” Ethan had never seen David so intent. “I thought I’d lost you, and my heart broke apart. I know I said that the two of us are together, but after those terrible moments, I realize that we’re not just together; we’re inseparable. I never want us to be apart again. Not for a minute.”

  “I want that, too,” Ethan said. It was all he’d ever wanted. He leaned his head against David’s shoulder. “I can’ stand the thought of losing you, either.”

  “You won’t,” David promised. With a gentle tug, he pulled Ethan to his feet and led him over to the bed. “I’m ready for this now.”

  “You’re sure?” Ethan asked, surprised.

  “I’ve never been so sure.” David sat on the bed and Ethan joined him. “I never want us to be apart again.”

  The day of the funeral dawned bright and clear. The weather was warm enough to stand by the gravestones in shirtsleeves. Tessa was in a spring dress, a bouquet of red roses in her arms. The minister from the Lutheran church in Groveland did the honors. Ethan had filled him in on the details, and the eulogy was heartfelt.

  During the ceremony, David took Ethan’s hand. Ethan’s eyes brimmed over as he thought of Meredith and how her innocence was lost. She deserved to rest in peace now. Alongside her baby and the rest of her family.

  When the service was over, Grant approached Ethan. “I’m still at a loss about all of this,” he admitted. “I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that we actually had a ghost in the house.”

  “You did,” Ethan confirmed.

  “Well, I don’t know if I believe it or not, but I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Grant said. “That checkbook of mine is upstairs whenever you’re ready to get paid.”

  “I don’t want your money,” Ethan said for the hundredth time. He squeezed David’s hand. “I have everything I need.”

  “Go on and take it,” David urged. “He’s loaded.”

  Ethan laughed. “He’s helping me win the case against the Ladds. I can’t ask for more than that.”

  Tessa placed the bouquet of roses on the smaller of the two, new graves then joined the men. “David, I want to go over the plans to restore the manor today. Are you up for it?”

  “It depends on what the old ball and chain has in store for me,” David joked.

  “The old ball and chain is going to be busy applying to school,” Ethan said. His application to law school would be late, but with Grant pulling a few strings, he shouldn’t have any trouble getting accepted. It was nice to have a multi-millionaire for a brother in law.

  Tessa and Grant walked arm-in-arm towards the manor, and David and Ethan went back to the cottage. It was nice, being in the country like this. Like an extended vacation. Before going inside, Ethan looked over his shoulder at the two, new graves. “Thank you,” he whispered to Meredith. Without her, he wouldn’t have become so happy.

  As if in reply, the wind picked up, scattering the petals of the roses that lay on the grave. Ethan could have sworn that he heard the words ‘you’re welcome’ carried on the breeze.

  THE END

  Ready for more supernatural suspense? Here’s a sample of Michelle Scott’s latest paranormal thriller, The Soulless.

  Prologue

  Margaret Wechsler sat in her bedroom with a pair of binoculars in one hand and the telephone in the other. Through the parted lace curtains, she could see Jonathan’s house across the street. She’d been watching it for days, waiting for a sign that the boy had survived his terrible ordeal. But this morning, while most of the windows in his house shone with a welcoming light, his bedroom remained dark.

  Margaret dropped the binoculars and began punching numbers on the telephone, thinking to ask Jonathan’s mother how he was doing. But before the phone rang even once, she hung up. She’d already called too many times this past weekend and was aware that her concern over her ailing student was making her appear strange.

  But she just couldn’t forget how Jonathan had looked on the last night she’d seen him. Friday night, it had been (though it seemed so much longer ago than that now). The two of them had sat side-by-side on the settee in Evander’s old fashioned parlor while Evander proudly showed off a tiny, glass vial of black blood, holding it out to them as if he were a sommelier in a fine restaurant. Then he’d uncorked it and coaxed (no, Margaret corrected herself, bullied) Jonathan into drinking its contents. And, visibly trembling with fright, Jonathan had obeyed.

  It was the memory of that young man – six foot two inches tall, shoulders as broad across as a cement truck, a defensive lineman for the Twin Rivers Huskies – shaking like a toddler who’d had a nightmare, that plagued Margaret the most. Though what had happened afterwards (Jonathan collapsing onto the floor, his skin turning a pale violet color, his lips growing bloodless) wasn’t much better.

  Margaret fingered the strap on the binoculars as her cat, eager for breakfast, threaded his silky body through her ankles. If only she could call Evander! But the stubborn old skinflint didn’t have a telephone, and nothing she had said to him over the years had persuaded him to get one. So unless she wanted to drive out to his house before school started, she couldn’t talk to him.

  The sound of a car engine followed by sweep of headlights across her bedroom wall made Margaret lean forward to peer out of the window. Jonathan’s mother was pulling out of the driveway. Margaret let out her breath in a sigh. Surely this was a good sign. As far as Carol knew, Jonathan’s illness was a bad case of the stomach flu and nothing more. She’d probably checked on her son, saw that he was feeling better, and decided to go to work.

  Margaret’s spirits rose. Maybe Evander was right after all. He’d told her not to worry; that the sickness and nightmares and fevers were all a part of the process. She’d remained doubtful, but he’d insisted that it took several days for the dark blood to work its magic. There must be, he told her, three days of suffering before Jonathan could be rebuilt into something better than he had been.

  As if to add proof that things were indeed improving, the lights in Jonathan’s roo
m suddenly flared on. Margaret grabbed the binoculars once more and peeked into the room, watching as Jonathan pulled a red hooded sweatshirt over his head. It seemed that he was getting ready for school.

  Margaret’s little prayer was like a sigh: Thank God. Tears of relief welled in her eyes. Everything was going to be okay.

  But even as she fought to reassure herself, a grim, secret voice deep inside of her refused to be silenced. Don’t be so sure, it said.

  When she arrived at school, Margaret went through the motions of preparing for the day. She took the papers from her mailbox, fetched coffee from the teachers’ lounge, and hung her coat up in her classroom’s closet. Everything is okay, she told herself, repeating it over and over again like a mantra. Everything is just hunky dory. Yet doubts like cobwebs clung to the corners of her mind. She simply couldn’t erase the memory of Jonathan, ashen-face, lying on Evander’s floor and crying. Even if he did heal, would he still be the same grinning, sweet boy she remembered?

  When advisory period ended, and her first hour students filed in, Margaret immediately passed out the quiz she’d warned them about the previous Friday. Several students complained loudly, one let out a terrific fart, four asked to borrow pencils, and two immediately put their heads down on their desks and closed their eyes. Margaret sank into her chair and massaged her temples. Things were going to be okay, she told herself. They really were.

  Down the hall, a locker door slammed so loudly that the entire class looked up from their quizzes. A moment later, another slammed. The sound was sudden, explosive; the silence trailing after it strangely concussive.

  Two students started for the door, but Margaret ordered them back to their desks. Stepping out of the classroom, she saw that the locker-lined hallway was empty. Then a third door slammed. Someone screamed.