“Not that I’m aware of.” If I sounded curt, it was because I guessed Aunt H. had mentioned to Liana the split between me and Greg.
Liana gave no indication she heard me. Her voice took on a dreamy quality. “But all that is changing. The cards show that a person has entered your life who will have great influence over your future.”
“I see.” I didn’t bother to hide my skepticism.
“Ah, but you don’t. You don’t. A beautiful light illuminates your future, but you remain unaware. If you could only listen to the spiritual lesson of the cards and abandon these failed plans and false values, you would find yourself completely fulfilled alongside a man in whom you can place all your love and trust.”
Sure. A tall, dark, handsome stranger, no doubt.
As though hearing my unspoken thoughts, Liana raised her head and stared past me. Her gaze had a distant, fixed look. Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.
“Liana?” I said, after an eerie second or two.
Nothing.
A little peculiar. Especially given that Liana had never shown any interest in mysticism prior to Ogden’s death. A less spiritual person I’d be hard-pressed to name.
Was she on something?
Should she be on something?
I glanced around the room, only then noticing that Aunt H. seemed to have disappeared inside Liana’s bedroom.
I turned back to Liana, who was still staring off into space, her hands seeming to deal cards of their own volition.
I said more softly, “Liana?”
“This man that the cards are highlighting will offer advice that could be crucial for the future…”
The lights were on, but nobody was home.
I rose, stepping away from the sitting area formed by the bay window, and went toward the door leading to Liana’s bedroom. I could hear rustling sounds from inside the room. Even knowing it had to be Aunt H., something about that furtive sound made me uneasy.
I glanced over my shoulder, but Liana still sat rearranging cards on the table and mumbling to herself. I don’t think she was aware I was no longer sitting across from her.
I took a quick peek inside Liana’s bedroom with its pale furniture and filmy peach gauzes and glossy coral satins. From where I stood, I could see right past the bed into the en suite, and to my horror, I saw Aunt H. crawling around the bathroom tiles on her hands and knees.
My heart hit the soles of my feet as I had a momentary flash of the final scene of The Yellow Wallpaper.
I gulped. “What the…!”
Aunt Halcyone’s head whipped up. She sat back on her haunches and put her finger to her lips.
I swallowed the rest of it and threw another uneasy glance back at Liana, who was now slumped back in her chair, apparently dozing.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, tiptoeing across the pale tiles and helping my aunt to her feet.
“Shhh. Dearest, I know how it looks, but really, I can explain.”
“Okay. Great. But what were you looking for?” I stared at the pink and gray marble tiles, the sunken bathtub, the long silver-framed mirror over the gleaming counter and sink fixtures. Everything looked perfectly normal, perfectly ordinary.
With the faintest hint of exasperation, my aunt replied, “Really, dear. Not now. We’ll talk in your room.”
I had to be content with that because not a word did I get out of her until we had silently crept out of Liana’s bedroom, scuttled down the hall, and were seated before the fireplace in my room.
“If you’re trying to scare the hell out of me, you’re doing a good job,” I said.
Aunt H. made a little face. “Of course not. Don’t be silly, dear.”
“What were you looking for?”
“Oh. Nothing in particular. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right.”
“Like what? The plumbing?”
She gave a small laugh, almost a titter. “Artie.” Her expression was earnest, her eyes reassuringly sane. Somehow it was all the more worrying.
I think she could see it, because she said with a hint of her old briskness, “Come, Artie. You’ve seen for yourself how things are.”
“Have I? I can see your plans to turn Green Lanterns into an inn didn’t pan out. And I can see the house is falling into ruin, yes, but I still don’t understand the reason for any of it. Why? Okay, Liana has slipped a gear—clearly—but Liana needs to go anyway.”
“Artie, don’t say that!” Aunt H. looked around wildly, as though she feared Liana had a drinking glass pressed to the other side of the wall.
“Come on, darling. Be serious. If she’s not faking, which, in fairness, I don’t think she is, she needs help. Seriously.”
“It isn’t what you think. Liana believes she’s channeling the spirits.”
“That’s exactly what I think!”
“Artie, if you could only open your mind. The line between the material and spirit worlds may be so much finer than any of us previously realized.”
“Even if I did believe that, I don’t buy Liana as some kind of spiritual tour guide. The only spirit she’s channeling is Maria Callas in Pasolini’s Medea.”
My aunt opened her mouth in protest. I went on, “But okay, let’s shelve the question of Liana’s psychic powers for the moment. Let’s get back to practicalities. You two should not be here on your own right now. What if you were to offer twice what anyone else around Russian Bay is paying? At least for a time. If you could get a few people to stay—”
Aunt H. shook her head. “I tried that. I offered to double both Cora’s and Mabel’s wages. They refused. They said no amount of money was worth it.”
“Worth it? What it? What does that even mean?” I was practically stuttering in astonishment and anger. “They actually said that to you?”
Aunt H. nodded miserably.
“I can’t believe that!”
I did believe it, though, because I’d never known Aunt H. to lie. She wasn’t even prone to exaggeration.
“I couldn’t either. At first. I thought…well, I’m not sure what I thought. It doesn’t matter, because we’re offering more per hour than anyone in the county, but we still can’t get anyone to stay. Not more than a night or two.”
“And what’s their excuse for leaving?”
Her troubled gaze met mine.
I tried to soften my tone. “Tarrant said people were talking about ghosts and-and hauntings. Do you think that’s what’s happening here? Is someone, er, spooking the help?”
“No. No, of course not. Who would do such a thing?”
“Tarrant?”
Aunt H. looked shocked. “Never.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Tarrant has been with me forever. Ulyanna was born in this house. He would never do anything to harm any of us.”
I made an unconvinced noise. “He doesn’t seem like the old Tarrant to me.”
“No, he doesn’t, but it’s very difficult for him and Ulyanna. They have to do the work of four now, and Tarrant is not young—nor is Ulyanna in good health.”
“Well, something is sure as hell going on in this house.”
The frightened look was back in her eyes. “Yes.”
“Well, what is it? You can’t just keep dropping alarming hints. Tell me what you think is happening.”
“It isn’t any one thing. It’s a host of things.”
“Fine. Go on.”
“Every night I hear footsteps. A man’s footsteps walking down this hallway.”
I ignored the sudden chill that slithered down my spine. “Tarrant’s, probably.”
“He denies it. And I believe him. There isn’t any reason why he should be walking around upstairs in the middle of the night. It’s true Tarrant’s grown eccentric, but he hasn’t lost his mind.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. Whatever is behind this, it isn’t Tarrant.”
“Okay, it isn’t Tarrant. It also isn’t a wha
tever. It’s a whoever.”
To my dismay, she didn’t answer.
“Tell me the rest of it. There’s obviously more.”
Aunt H. licked her lips, her face suddenly without color. “It doesn’t matter where the footsteps start. Sometimes I hear them overhead. Sometimes I hear them downstairs. Eventually they start down the hall and walk toward my room. They always stop in front of my door.” She clenched her hands.
I took those cold little fists in mine. “Darling, you’re losing your nerve. When you hear those footsteps, why don’t you open the door to see who it is?”
“I did, Artie. Of course I did. The first few times. There was never anyone there. Now…”
“Now what?”
“I’m afraid whatever is on the other side is going to open the door.”
I let out a long breath.
Fucking marvelous. Crackpot servants, mysterious footsteps in the night…what next?
I tried to keep my tone neutral. “You know, with Liana next door playing third crone from the right, no wonder your imagination has started to get the better of you. I’d be freaked out too.”
She said nothing.
“Is it possible you could have dreamed the footsteps? Or maybe mistook some creaking floorboards for something else?”
“No. Certainly not.” Aunt H. sounded like her old self when she said tartly, “I’m not a fool, Artemus. I’ve lived in this house my entire life. I know every creak of its old timbers.”
I smiled at her. “Fair enough.”
She smiled back, but the trouble had returned to her gaze. “It isn’t just the footsteps. There’ve been other incidents.”
“Like?”
“Three days ago, there was a pool of oil on the floor of Liana’s bathroom. She slipped in it and nearly knocked herself out.”
“Wait. What are we talking about here? Spilled bath oil? Really?”
My aunt shook her head. “No. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t bath oil. It was motor oil.”
Once again, I had the sensation of an icy, pointy fingertip running down the length of my spine.
“Who says it was motor oil?” I demanded.
“I say it was! I know what motor oil smells like, and it was motor oil spilled on Liana’s floor.”
“Okay. It was motor oil. What else?”
A flush stained my aunt’s cheeks. “Last week someone tampered with my sleeping pills.”
I’m not sure what concerned me more: the fact that Aunt H. was taking sleeping pills, or that someone had tampered with them.
Aunt H. hurried on, avoiding my eyes. “And before you ask, yes, I’m sure. I refilled my prescription on Tuesday. On Wednesday night, the bottle was only half full.”
“Maybe Liana borrowed a handful.”
“No. Liana has her own sleeping medication.”
Of course she did. And if I stayed at Green Lanterns any length of time, no doubt I’d be popping Ambien too. And Xanax as well.
“That’s…not good.”
“No, it isn’t. Roma says—” My aunt broke off at my expression.
“I can hardly wait. What does Roma say?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“No, really. I want to hear it.”
“Roma believes that the agency behind these events is…not human.”
It took me a second or two to translate. When I did, I felt my temper rise. “Not human? Meaning…Ogden is doing these things? Ogden is sprinkling motor oil across bathroom floors and snitching your sleeping pills? He doesn’t have anything better to do in the Hereafter?”
My aunt turned her hands in mine, gripping my fingers tightly. “My dear, I know how this must sound to you. But Ogden’s death was so sudden, so…violent, it’s not unreasonable to think that his spirit might be confused, lost, even angry.”
“Angry with you and Liana? Then he’s even a bigger fool dead than he was alive.”
I hadn’t meant to say it, but once it was out, there was no taking it back. My aunt let go of my hands and folded hers in her lap. She stared down at her wedding ring.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low but steady. “I know you didn’t care for Ogden, but I won’t have you speaking with such disrespect, Artemus.”
“I know. I apologize.”
She nodded tightly. I thought there was sadness in the gaze that finally met my own.
I said, “Look, darling, let’s talk this whole thing out rationally. Let’s say there is such a thing as ghosts. Do you really believe that a ghost would resort to household accidents and tampering with sleeping pills in an effort to, what? Wreak his revenge? Revenge for what?”
“Roma believes that Ogden might not understand that his death was accidental.”
It was a struggle, but I managed to say calmly, “I see. So Ogden suspects either you or Liana—or maybe both of you—of murdering him? Is that it?”
My aunt nodded mutely.
“But why?” I asked. “What motive would either of you have?”
Once again, my aunt was avoiding my eyes. She shrugged.
“The spouse is always a suspect, and Ogden enjoyed reading mystery novels as I recall, but what would Liana’s motive be? She’s clearly shattered by his death. Wouldn’t a ghostly presence notice that?”
“I don’t think it works like that, dear.”
“Why wouldn’t it? If Ogden’s trying to find out who’s responsible for his death, he must be observing reactions and making deductions. Are you and Liana the only people experiencing these manifestations?”
“You’re not taking this seriously at all!”
“On the contrary. I’m taking it very seriously. Has anyone outside Green Lanterns experienced anything?”
“I don’t believe so.” Aunt H. looked mostly offended by then.
“Of course, there’s another possibility. Maybe Ogden hasn’t returned from the grave. Maybe Roma is wrong, and the agency behind these mysterious happenings is human.”
Aunt H. shook her head. “No. No, that’s even harder to believe.”
“Harder to believe than Ogden returning from the Great Beyond?”
“Yes.”
I gave her a chiding look. She blushed, but her gaze was defiant.
“No one has anything to gain by harming me, Artie dear. Everything I have goes to you upon my death.”
The conversation had taken a grim turn, and that was largely my fault, but it was a conversation that, in my opinion, had to be had.
“What about Liana? She has money in her own right, doesn’t she? I always thought she inherited a bundle after her husband died.”
“She had money, yes. Her finances seem leaner these days. I’m not sure about the terms of her will. I’m not sure Liana ever made a will. I am sure that before Ogden’s death, she never gave a thought to such things.”
“Does she have any other family?”
“No one. They had a younger brother, but he died in his teens. It must have been a terrible tragedy. She never spoke of it, and Ogden only rarely mentioned the boy. I had the impression it was all too painful to discuss.”
“What about Ogden’s will? I’m assuming he left a will?”
“Yes. But the sad truth is his publishing house was in financial straits. There could be no practical reason for anyone to want Ogden out of the way.”
Maybe yes, maybe no. Given Ogden’s roving eye, maybe someone had a motive that was practical but not financial.
I mulled all this over. “What does Liana think?” I asked at last.
Aunt H.’s shoulders seemed to slump beneath the weight of the world. “She believes Ogden is trying to contact us. That he has vital information he wishes to convey.”
We were both silent for a few moments. Then I said, “Auntie H., if things are this bad—and they seem pretty damn bleak to me—why don’t you and Liana pack up and go on vacation for a few weeks. Or even a month or two? Leave Ogden to work it out for himself.”
Aunt Halcyone sighed. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? When all this started, I begged Liana to come away with me. She refused. Since then, I’ve tried everything I could think of to get her to change her mind. She simply won’t listen.”
“Then leave her to it,” I said. “Come back to New York with me. We’ll have a nice, long, lovely visit. We’ll catch a few shows, go shopping, dine at some great restaurants, check out some museums.”
“I’d love nothing more, but I can’t leave Liana now. Not like this. You saw her, Artie. She can’t be left on her own.”
I got up and walked to the window. Below me, the rose garden lay bathed in sunlight, a wild tangle of thorny yellows, creams, corals, pinks. I spotted Cassidy the gardener using a pair of loppers to attack the wave of greenery spilling over a stone wall.
As though feeling my gaze, he looked up, lowering the loppers and staring at the house. I didn’t suppose he could see me with the sun hitting the windows, but he gave a jaunty little wave.
“Artemus?” my aunt called tentatively.
I turned from the windows. “Listen, me old darling.” I went to sit down, gazing into her strained face. “Here’s what I think. You and Liana—and the Tarrants as well—have been living a morbid, unnatural existence ever since Ogden died. At first, I think it was partly due to the shock of how sudden his death was. Now I think a lot of it is Liana’s mood infecting the rest of you. I’m no expert, but I think she needs professional help. For all you know, Liana spilled that oil and took your sleeping pills.”
“Oh, Artie.” Aunt H. sounded truly disappointed.
“Hear me out. I know she loved her brother, but that…extremity of grief? It’s not normal, and you must know it’s not normal. The two of you need to get away from this toxic environment, and if Liana won’t agree to leave, you need to go without her.”
Aunt H. took a deep breath and slowly let it out. It made my heart ache to see her look so tired, so defeated. “You’re right, Artemus. I know you are. You always did have a level head. That’s why I wanted you here with me. Maybe…maybe you can talk to Liana. She might listen to someone else.” Her smile was wry. “Especially if that someone else is a man.”
“Then it’s settled,” I said.
I believed it too. But when I went upstairs to speak to Liana after dinner that evening, she refused to even open the door.
Seance on a Summer's Night Page 4