Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery (10 page)

Vance fixed her with hard eyes. "Listen,
this has got to stop, Peyton. You hear me? There's no haunted house
or ghosts living here...or in the bay. We can't keep going through
this every time you have a...I don't know...episode. Now I think we
should all go back to bed and just forget about this."

Tears welled up in Peyton's eyes as she
looked at her mother. "You have to believe me, Mom. I know what I
saw tonight. Something's terribly wrong in this house and none of
us are safe as long as we turn and look the other way."

Melody touched Peyton's cheek. "We'll talk
about it in the morning, dear."

"But it might be too late by then."

"Nothing is going to happen to any of us
over the next few hours, Peyton. We'll be more clear-headed to
discuss this after some sleep."

Peyton supposed she was right. The danger
seemed to have passed for the moment. Or so she hoped. But trying
to figure out what Caitlyn's dire warning meant would not be easy,
especially when Peyton doubted she would get much support, with
Vance more likely to want to cart her off to the funny farm for the
rest of her life.

"Please don't let him put me away in a
mental hospital," she told her mother.

"No one's talking about sending you
anywhere, Peyton," Melody promised, and faced Vance. "Isn't that
right?"

He rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, for now,
we'll keep this in the family and see how it goes."

Peyton didn't like the sound of that,
suggesting she was living on borrowed time before he considered her
a basket case.

Unless I can somehow prove something I'm not
even one hundred percent positive is happening.

"If you'd like, I'll stay with you for a
while," Melody offered, after walking Peyton to her room.

"Would you?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Mom."

Peyton wanted to be brave, but was a bit
unnerved about being in her room alone. What if Caitlyn returned
and was angry that there seemed to be no way to change history? Or
what if the wounded man showed up asking for--no, demanding--help
again?

* * *

Peyton tried to put the whole thing behind
her the next day. There was no indication that Caitlyn--if that was
really her name--had ever been in Peyton's room or caused words to
appear on the wall. Or, for that matter, a badly injured, bloody
man in the spare bedroom. Since it all happened after the
nightmare, Peyton figured it must have been some sort of dream
manifestation causing her to somehow blur ghoulish fantasy with
reality.

Yet another part of Peyton was certain that
what she had witnessed was anything but an overactive and scary
imagination. Why would these things suddenly begin to happen after
moving to Shadow Bay? Yes, she'd had horrible nightmares for months
after her father's death. But nothing like this. No, there had to
be something more to it than her mind simply conjuring up such evil
thoughts.

During breakfast, Peyton avoided talking
about last night. Neither her mother nor stepfather brought up the
subject either, as if fearing it would trigger a relapse or
negative reaction.

Vance went to work and her mother to the
grocery store, after Peyton convinced her she would be fine by
herself.

She decided to brave the attic alone, hoping
to find out if there was anything else up there that might provide
a clue as to who the people were.

Especially the girl.

But first, Peyton went to the study to get
her cell phone from the cabinet where Vance had put it. She planned
to use it to take some pictures or video in the attic. Only the
cell phone was gone. Vance had obviously hidden it elsewhere.

She frowned.
Guess I'll have to do
without it this time, but I'll find it eventually
.

Peyton climbed the attic stairs, conscious
of every creak. She had second thoughts about following through,
fearful that she was being watched.

Maybe I'm getting way too paranoid
.
Even if this house were haunted by ghosts, could they really
hurt me?

Peyton put aside her qualms and went for it.
She entered the attic and found the framed picture. It had fallen
over. She distinctly remembered the photograph being upright when
they left that day. There were two windows in the attic, but both
were shut so there was no chance a gust of wind had done the
trick.

Had her mother come back up and held the
photograph?

Peyton studied it. She wanted to believe the
resemblance between the family in the picture and those in her
dream were purely coincidental. But was it? She sensed there was
much more to it than that.

Was the girl's name really Caitlyn?
Are
you and your mother and that man who was shot dead now?
Or are
they still alive somewhere? No, that didn't make sense.

She set about to find some answers. Pouring
through boxes, Peyton found mostly junk and no further clues about
the family in the photo.

Then she found a photograph, this one small
and unframed. It was in the bottom of a box of old magazines from
the 1960s. The black and white picture was of the same teenage girl
in the other photograph, accompanied by another girl around the
same age. Peyton imagined it couldn't have been taken too much
earlier or later than the family picture.

Could they be sisters?

Peyton studied the girl from her dreams and
the bay.
Are you Caitlyn? Do you really need my help?

Peyton jumped when she heard a sound behind
her. Turning, she saw that a box had tipped over. Was it Caitlyn's
way of getting her attention? Scanning the attic, she saw no one,
real or imaginary.

Resisting the urge to bolt, Peyton went to
the box and peeled off the tape that sealed it. Inside were some
old toys and dolls. She picked up a doll with long blonde hair that
looked new, but was obviously from another era.

Wonder what I'd get for this on eBay?

A tag attached to the doll's arm read: To
Caitlyn, from Mama.

So Caitlyn was a real person and not just my
imagination.

Sensing a presence, Peyton turned around and
saw Caitlyn. She was wearing a pretty pink dress and white shoes,
as if about to go to Sunday school.

Peyton's first impulse was to run away as
fast as she could. But that would only deepen the mystery of why
the girl kept appearing to her. Besides, it seemed like there was
no way to run and hide from a ghost who was determined to be seen.
At least by her.

If only she had her cell phone, Peyton could
have videotaped or taken a photo of the ghost girl to prove to her
mom and others that she was real, or as real as a ghost could be.
Yet Peyton had a feeling that it wouldn't have worked, as she was
clearly a ghost who only made her presence known when she wanted
to.

Peyton decided it was best to keep her cool
and confront the ghost head on.

"Is this yours?" Peyton held up the
doll.

The girl simply stared, but said
nothing.

"Caitlyn, right?"

She nodded and might have even smiled.

"I'm Peyton, but you already know that."

Caitlyn nodded again.

"Why did you come to my room last night?"
Peyton asked. "Was it to warn me about the man who was shot? I saw
him in the spare bedroom."

Caitlyn moved her head up and down.

"Your father shot him, you, and then your
mother."

Caitlyn nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry it happened, but why have you
come to me?" Peyton eyed her. "Do you want me to stop it from
happening?"

Caitlyn seemed to be trying to say
something, but was voiceless.

"I can't help you fix something that's
already taken place decades ago." Peyton wasn't sure if she was
getting through to her. "Do you understand?"

Caitlyn moved towards Peyton. Peyton backed
away, as if being touched would kill her or turn her into a zombie
or something. When she could back up no more, Peyton, heart
pounding, waited helplessly for what would happen next.

Caitlyn stopped scant inches away. She
reached out to touch her and Peyton closed her eyes, afraid to
look. When she opened them, the girl was gone.

But Peyton's mother was there.

"Peyton..."

"Mom...I didn't hear you come up." Peyton
exhaled breath that she had seemingly been holding forever in
anticipating Caitlyn's touch.

Melody's brow creased. "You shouldn't be up
here, Peyton. It'll just result in more problems."

"I'm fine," she lied, shifting her eyes,
hoping to spot Caitlyn.

"Are you?" Her mother's voice rang with
doubt.

"Yeah. I only came up to see if there was
anything I might be able to use." Peyton lifted the doll. "Look
what I found. It belonged to a girl named
Caitlyn
."

Melody looked at the doll and tag, then her
daughter. "This doesn't mean it's the
same
girl who's in the
picture."

"So you think I just conjured up the name?"
Peyton didn't dare tell her that she had seen Caitlyn's ghost just
moments earlier. Or that she was sure it was Caitlyn who made the
box fall so Peyton could find the doll.

"Maybe you saw it somewhere in the house and
don't remember."

"I think I would've remembered that." Peyton
batted her lashes with irritation. "Either way, Caitlyn
is
the girl in the photo, I'm sure of it."

Melody sighed. "So maybe her name is
Caitlyn," she said. "I don't want you to get too caught up in who
she is or was. All it will do is cause you to have more bad dreams.
Nothing good can come from that."

"But what if they weren't dreams? What if it
was a window into something truly bad that happened in this
house?"

"Then you must close it! There's nothing you
can do to alter the past--no matter how much you want to believe
there's some sort of hidden message in whatever you're
experiencing."

"What if it's not about the past, but the
future
?" Peyton suggested. "Our future as a family living in
this house..."

Melody narrowed her eyes. "Listen to me, I
want you to stay away from this attic and remove any thoughts that
there's something supernatural going on here."

"How can you be so sure there isn't?"
You
wouldn't be if you'd seen the things I did.

"This is serious, Peyton. Vance already
thinks you're teetering on the edge of insanity. Let's not give him
any more ammunition, please."

Peyton's nostrils flared. "Why does
everything always have to be about what Vance thinks? He's like not
even my
real
father, even if he tries to pretend he is."

"But he is
my
husband, Peyton!"
Melody's voice rose. "And you're my daughter. We have to try to
make it work, even if there are bumps in the road. And that means
not rocking the boat by this talk of communicating with spirits or
whatever and otherwise allowing your imagination to run wild."

Peyton hugged her mother impulsively. "I'm
sorry." She just wished things would go back to the way they
were--before they moved to Shadow Bay. Except for meeting Bryant
and Lily.

"Don't be." Melody kissed her forehead.
"Let's just try to put this behind us and move forward."

"Fine."

If only it were that simple. Peyton had a
feeling it would be anything but simple.

When she pulled away, Melody wrapped her
arms around herself. "It's feeling a bit chilly up here all of a
sudden," she said. "Why don't we go downstairs and you can help me
put away the groceries?"

"Okay." Peyton wondered if there was more to
the chill than her mother realized. She glanced about, as if
expecting Caitlyn to rematerialize. But it didn't happen.

She put the doll back in the box and slipped
the photograph of Caitlyn and another girl in her pocket while her
mother's head was turned. Peyton believed Caitlyn was appearing for
some important reason that she clearly wanted her to figure out, no
matter how weird and unsettling it seemed.

The words Caitlyn had written on the wall
replayed in her head: "
You must help me before it's too late for
all of us--
"

By "all of us," did Caitlyn mean Peyton's
family was also in danger?

I'm not sure how to fight this or where to
turn.

What could she possibly do to help a
troubled ghost who had likely been shot by her own father years
ago? Especially when Peyton's mother and stepfather were
steadfastly opposed to any suggestion that spirits haunted the
house.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Hi, stranger," Bryant said when Peyton
opened the front door that afternoon to him and Hugh.

"Hey, Bry." He was a welcome sight and she
fondly recalled their kisses last week. "Hello, Hugh!" Peyton
scratched the dog's head.

"What's up?"

"Oh, not much," she said, stepping onto the
porch.
Not sure it's a smart idea to talk about ghosts and a
haunted house with him right now
. "What's up with you?"

"Busy with work mostly, and helping my
dad."

I wish my real dad was still around for
me to help and be there for me, too
.

"What else?" Peyton found that anything
Bryant had to say interested her. And it kept her mind off less
pleasant things.

"Let's see...oh, I took Hugh to the vet for
his annual."

"Is he okay?" Hugh certainly looked healthy
to her.

"As good as a dog can be when he's past his
prime, but still ornery as ever."

Peyton laughed. "Sounds like some people I
know."

"Yeah, same here." Bryant paused. "Anyway, I
was hoping we could check out a movie tomorrow night--"

"Great!" The idea of being with him in a
dark movie theater excited Peyton. "What time?"

"The last showing's at eight-thirty."

"That's fine with me."

"Cool." Bryant gazed at her. "Your
stepfather won't have a problem with it, will he?"