Creighton Manor (41 page)

Gillian turned so abruptly, she startled the old man into taking a few steps back. "No, please tell me. I want to know."

He scratched his
baldhead
and squinted up at her. Gillian wasn't sure, if it was from the sun, or if he was trying to decide if she was a lunatic. Finally he spoke. "Well the story goes . . . let me think a moment. Yes, it was said that Zachary Creighton murdered his wife and some other woman. I think it was the housekeeper, though I'm not so sure now. Anyway, Zachary Creighton claimed until his dying day that he was innocent of these crimes. No one believed him." The old man shook his head.

Had Gillian heard him correctly? "You said he murdered his wife?"

"Yes. He drowned her, if I remember right.”

"They found a body?" Gillian was a little confused.

The old man stared at Gillian, his eyes narrowing. "Of course they found the body. How else would they know that he drowned her?"

Gillian tried to stay calm. She needed information and she didn’t want to scare away the only source. "And the other woman, he was supposed to have murdered?"

"He stabbed her to death, if I am remembering it correctly. The man was obviously insane."

"He is not!" Gillian defended him. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I'm sorry. It's just that I have been researching my roots and well . . . who wants to find out you’re related to a murderer?”

He nodded. "I see your point."

"Will you show me that other grave?”

"Sure, follow me."

As they walked, Gillian continued to ask questions. "Did they hang this Zachary Creighton?"

"They did just that." He glanced over his shoulder and added, "Maybe you could see some good came of that. Justice was served for your other relative. The one he drowned, that is."

Gillian followed the old man, her heart beating against her chest. They had only walked a short distance when he stopped and pointed.

Even though she knew
it would be her
name carved on the gravestone, she still wasn’t prepared to see it. She shivered despite the heat of the day.

"Are you all right
, M
iss? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Gillian looked at him. "In a sense, I have
.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Jerry and Samantha were going through the fourth box that was stored in the Avery's garage. They were flabbergasted that Jerry's father had kept so many items. The whole garage could never be used to store a car for it was covered from one wall to the other with boxes and crates.

"We could be here all month and still never find anything. We don't even know if there is anything that will mention Zachary."

Jerry brushed the hair out of his eyes and looked at Samantha. He smiled.

“What are you grinning about?”

“You have a little …” he leaned over and wiped her cheek. “You had a little smudge there.” He kissed her nose.

“Yeah, you’re not so clean either.”

“I know you’re hot and tired. Me too. How about after this box, we stop for the day. We'll clean up and go over to the Irvine Spectrum to catch a movie. Sound all right with you?"

"Just this box?”  She pointed to the box at his feet.

"Yep."

Samantha nodded. “Deal.” She lifted the next bunch of papers, skimming over the pages as quickly as possible. If she didn't find anything that would help, she neatly placed the sheet to the side. She was so tired and wanted to be finished with this whole ordeal that she had almost missed it.

She read the few sentences again, this time slowly. She realized that it was continued, but there wasn't anything on the next page. In her hurry to find the completion of the article, she dropped the remaining sheets on the floor. They scattered in every direction. She got on her hands and knees and started picking them up. "I found something!" She managed to croak. "I found something," she said again. Her hands were trembling.

Jerry immediately moved to help. "What did you find?" He rummaged through the mess of papers, too.

"At the bottom of the newspaper clipping, it mentioned Zachary's name, but it was continued on another page." They finally had all the sheets gathered and they sat down next to each other, quickly going through the jumbled mess.

"I have it!" Samantha said excitedly and Jerry moved closer as she began to read the article. "Zachary Creighton was found guilty of the murder of his wife and housekeeper. Creighton sentenced to hang Friday at noon." Samantha and Jerry looked at each other.

“Gillian's dream was true after all
.”

"How could it be?" Samantha shook her head. "Zachary would never hurt anyone." Her eyes filled with tears. Jerry took her hand and squeezed it tight.

They both felt the loss of this man. In that short time he had been with them, he had become a dear friend. It didn’t matter that Zachary, in all sense, had died before they were ever born. They felt the pain as though the tragedy had happened only yesterday. No one would understand that to the both of them, it had.

***

Jerry waited in the car, while Samantha ran over to Gillian's mailbox to retrieve her mail. Samantha was about to head back,
but stopped cold. “Molly?
”
Samantha knelt down on one knee and lifted her hand to beckon her.

Molly barked and ran to greet Samantha by throwing herself at her feet and rolling over. She petted her
belly
. "Good girl, Molly." She looked over her shoulder and saw Jerry was walking toward them. "What do you think it means?" she asked.

"I think, it means that there's a chance the past can be changed." Jerry looked around for the time portal, but everything looked the same. "Why don't you take our guest inside Gillian's apartment and see if you can get a hold of her. You better tell her to take the next flight back home."

Samantha turned to look at him. "Where are you going?"

"I plan on packing a few things before I make the leap into the past."

She stood, staring at him in disbelief. "What do you mean your leap into the past?"

"We can’t let Gillian go alone. She may need some help and I want to go prepared."

"Well, if you are going, I am too."

"Samantha—"

“Don’t try to talk me out of this.”

"Okay, okay, I'll pick up a few things for you, too." Jerry turned to leave, but then came back. He pulled
Samantha against him in a hug then h
e leaned down and kissed her. A quick kiss, that was still tender, sweet, and oh so hot.

"What was that for?" Samantha looked up at him, her brow furrowing.

He gently caressed her lips with his thumb. "Because I love you." He kissed again, a quick peck before he turned and jogged back to his car.

Stunned, Samantha didn't move for a full minute. Did he just tell her that he loved her? She saw him wave from his car before he drove away.

Molly whined bringing Samantha's attention back to her. She leaned down and rubbed Molly behind her ears. "Did you hear that girl? He loves me.” Molly licked her hand
,
making her chuckle. “Come on let's see if we can find something for you to eat."

***

Samantha had already placed six calls to Gillian’s cell and more to the hotel with no luck. "Where are you Gillian?" She dialed again and let the hotel operator connect her to the room. She let it ring seven times and was about to hang up again, when she heard the familiar voice answer. "Gillian, thank God. Where have you been?"

Gillian had been so upset over her find that she hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone. She drove over to where Creighton Manor would have stood, but it was no longer there. One of the locals believed it had burned down in a fire around 1964 or so. She didn’t know what she thought she'd find within the ruins, maybe a connection of some sort. Maybe Molly would be there waiting, but there was nothing. It frightened her to think she may not be able to save Zachary.

Gillian was lost in her thoughts and hadn’t been listening, until now. "Wait, wait. Did you say Molly is with you?"

"Haven't you been paying attention? She's sitting right next to me as we speak, eating a bowl of eggs and hot dogs."

"Don't let her out of your sight. I'm coming home." Gillian didn't even say good-bye. She slammed the receiver down and started rushing around the room collecting all her belongings. She picked up the phone again and asked for an outside line. She called the airport. "Yes, you can help me. Is there a flight out tonight to L.A.?" Gillian waited on the line for the woman to check. She looked down at her left hand and gingerly touched the gold wedding band. "Please, let me get to you in time
.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

The three gathered in Gillian's living room, nervously sitting on the edge of the couch and staring at Molly. Molly on the other hand was completely relaxed and was curled up on the floor, sleeping peacefully.

Jerry jumped to his feet. "This is ridiculous. We can't stare at her all night. We don't know when the next door through time will open. It could be days, weeks, who knows?"

"You’re right," Gillian answered. "But we have to be prepared. The door doesn’t stay open very long. We can't afford to miss the window of opportunity. Zachary's very life depends on it!" At this point, Gillian's voice rose to a high pitch. She was anxious, worried and excited all at once. She was like a tightly wound string on a violin; one pluck and she would snap.

Samantha put her arm around Gillian's shoulders. "It will be all right." Samantha tried to comfort her. Gillian knew Samantha was scared, too. She should be.

They had no idea what was waiting on the other side of the door of time. What if Samantha and Jerry went, but then couldn’t return? It was a lot of faith to put in a mere mutt. She glanced at Molly, who slept as though there was not a care in the world. She supposed to her, there wasn’t.

"We'll stay the night," Jerry stated. "That way if Molly decides it’s time, we'll be ready to go."

Gillian nodded in agreement. "I'll get some blankets." She headed to the spare room.

"I'll help." Samantha followed, leaving Jerry to watch Molly. He had been very thorough with bringing everything he thought was necessary for their trip to 1870. He bought clothing to fit the era, which they were all wearing at this moment. He exchanged some money to what would be appropriate. He even bought some rare gems with the money that Zachary had left Gillian from selling his pocket watch. Gillian didn't know about this yet, he wanted to surprise her. He knew once Gillian went back to 1870, and if they were able to insure Zachary's safety, she wouldn’t return to this time. He wanted to make sure she had a substantial income. Most of all, he had prepared a medical bag with enough medical supplies to start his own hospital. He wasn't going to take his chances with
nineteenth
century medicine.

However, w
hen they awoke the next morning, Molly was gone.

Gillian was barely holding it together, her stomach churning with frustration. “I don’t understand. Why would she show up here then go?”

“I don’t know,” Samantha said. She turned her head toward the front door as Jerry came in.

“I checked everywhere. I didn’t see her.”

Gillian sat down on the sofa, her shoulders slumping forward. Samantha looked at Jerry for help. He shrugged at a loss of what to do. Then Gillian stood and paced as a thought started to form in her head. “Why not?” she mumbled. She came to a halt and stood motionless in the middle of the room.

“Gillian?” Jerry sounded worried.

She looked at him then to Samantha. “We have to go to the Queen Mary.”

“The Queen Mary?” Samantha asked. “Why there?”

“It’s where it all began and I’m going.” She didn’t wait for them to answer. She grabbed her car keys and purse. She was already heading to the door when Jerry took a hold of her arm. “Don’t try and prevent me from going
.”
She yanked free and he held up his hands.

“I wasn’t. Just hold on while I load the car. We’re coming too.”

They probably looked a sight the way they were dressed: Two women and one man dressed in period clothing. It was no wonder the receptionist’s mouth dropped open before she recovered and gave them a smile.

“May I— hey, don’t I know you?” She pointed to Samantha then she glanced at Gillian. “I see you made it back.”

Gillian remembered Tara. She believed in all this:
G
hosts and traveling through time. Heck, what was she saying, she was a believer, too. “Yes, but I want to go back again.”

“I guess you might as well do it here, if you don’t know of another way.”

“What do you mean?” Jerry asked.

“Who are you?” Tara eyed him with suspicion.

“Jerry, I’m a friend of Gillian’s.”

“You’re kind of cute, Jerry, but I’d lose the cowboy look. As for your question, well, there are fragile areas of time that create what some call a vortex, and we can slip through, but most of the time it’s only the human’s essence that appears. You know ghosts,” she added to make sure they understood. She tilted her head to one side. “You’re from this time, aren’t you?” she asked Jerry just to make sure. She batted her eyes at him.