Ghost of a Promise (25 page)

…

After much debate, it was decided that putting Jackson and Ava alone in the great hall upstairs would probably garner the best result in trying to reach Peter Trumble. The rest of the crew waited downstairs while she watched Jackson set up the equipment for the last time.

The last time. God, her heart hurt.

Jackson worked his way into the corner. They’
d brought up the yes/no box, the voice box, a camera, and the digital recorder in the hopes of gaining closure for her spirits and capturing it on film.

“
I
’
m ready when you are, luv.
”

She closed her eyes to his endearment before squaring her shoulders.
“
Peter?
”
She paused, waiting for a response.
“
We have the voice box in here again if you
’
d like to speak. There
’
s also another box in here. You can respond to simple questions with a yes or no.
”

Nothing happened for the longest time and Ava grew weary. She decided to up the ante.

“
Peter? I know what happened to Sarah Kerrick. I know where you can find her.
”
She paused.
“
If you want to know, give me a sign you
’
re here.
”

Jackson grinned.
“
Good job. It
’
s getting colder in here.
”

She shivered, even though this was exactly what she wanted, Peter’s presence.

The voice box echoed one word:
Here
.

Her nerves began to dissolve and she steeled her spine. “
Peter, Sarah went over the cliffs the night before the Kerricks were to depart back to England. She had a fight with her father and she fell. That
’
s how she died.
”
The air grew so frigid and dense she could scarcely breathe.
“
She didn
’
t leave you willingly, Peter. She wanted to stay with you.
”

No
, the voice box echoed.

Ava and Jackson exchanged a look. His eyes widened as a chill raced up her spine.

The lights on the yes/no box suddenly flashed at random.

Red. Green. Red. Green.

An angry, heavy weight filled the room, so thick that the anger and grief consumed her. Threatened to steal her very will to move. To live.

She shivered and stilled, so cold her breath frosted before her face.

She had his attention.

“
Yes, Peter. She never left the property. She has roamed the grounds and this house for two-hundred years waiting for you.
”

The overhead chandelier blinked furiously.

The patio door opened abruptly, slamming against the side of the house. The
thump
hit her square in the chest and stopped her heart. It jarred the whole room, sending the portraits askew. She placed her palms on the wall to steady herself, but the strobing lights and banging made balance impossible. Her heart lurched in fear. Her skin prickled from cold dread.

The voice box didn’
t offer anything in the way of understanding if Peter was hearing her or not. The yes/no box kept blinking its crazy pattern. She was just about to speak again when the chandelier
’
s light cut out, the patio door slammed closed and the yes/no box ceased.

The silence was frightening. Then Jackson
’
s rasp of a breath filled the quiet and her heart rate calmed. She wasn
’
t alone.

“
Peter, please,
”
she pleaded.
“
You must believe me. She is here.
”

The room was so quiet she could hear the roar of the ocean swells outside. It dawned on her that Sarah wasn
’
t here. Why wouldn
’
t Sarah come? She
’
d been such a strong presence for Ava these past months, especially during the investigation. Now, when Ava needed her for Peter
’
s sake, she hadn
’
t shown.

“
Peter?
”
She sighed.
“
Why won’t Sarah show and help us?
”

Jackson stepped over and clasped her hand in his, offering a reassuring squeeze.

Gradually, the heaviness decreased and lifted. Heat seeped back in slowly until the room became open and normal once more.

Jackson blew out a breath.
“
We don
’
t know what truly happens after we die. Maybe she
couldn’t
materialize or didn’
t know you were trying.
”

A thought clicked, and suddenly she knew just what to do.
“
I
’
m going stay in here alone. Give me the digital recorder.
”

Jackson looked like he wanted to argue.
“
Are you sure?
”

“
I
’
m sure. I have to get something first.
”

She bolted from the room, downstairs and into the library. There, she grabbed the copies of Sarah
’
s journal and rushed up the staircase. Jackson had already left the room by the time she returned. Closing the French doors behind her, she switched on the digital recorder and set it on the floor. She nodded to the camera, knowing the crew would be watching.

She gave herself a moment to catch her breath.
“
Peter, I have proof Sarah loved you.
”

A full five minutes passed with no change. She sat on the floor and waited.

“
Peter, please. I didn
’
t mean to upset you.
”

Just as she was about to give up, the tell-tale signature of cold seeped into the room, indicating Peter
’
s entry. She shivered, except this time, in excitement.

“
I don
’
t want to make you angry again, but just hear me out, Peter. This is Sarah
’
s journal.
”
She held up the pages and glanced around the darkening room.
“
Not long ago, Sarah
’
s spirit led us right to it, like she needed us to hear her words. I think you should hear them too.
”

Ava swallowed and looked down to read from the last entry Sarah Kerrick ever wrote.
“
It is my heart’s desire to remain in this new land with my new love. Father says it is our duty to return home, but my home is here now, with Peter. I must betray my family to seek my own happiness, for I shall only ever be happy when I am with him
.”

Ava looked up, sensing Peter
’
s presence by the dense cold. But finally,
finally
, Sarah was there too. Her lavender scent rose up and wrapped around Ava like a hug.

It was working.

She stood and looked at the silent voice box and yes/no box, neither offering her a hint to what was going on. Relying on intuition that her ghosts were listening, she forged on.

“
You
’
ve been angry a long time, Peter. Sarah was taken from you and you were blamed for her disappearance. You were mad at the wrong person. This is proof she loved you, in her own words. Sarah led us to this journal so we could know the truth, so you could learn the truth.
”

Seconds passed, minutes, until she couldn
’
t bear to stand still another moment. She turned and paced the room, glancing at the pictures of her ancestors along the way. She lingered over the picture of Peter, the loneliness and anger etched in his eyes. How terrible to go through your whole life thinking the person you loved didn
’
t love you back. Then to spend your afterlife wandering the halls and unable to find peace. She hoped this intervention worked. No one deserved that wrath of eternal punishment. Love wasn
’
t a crime.

She stepped away from the portrait and froze, sensing a shift in the room, in the very atmosphere. Everything stilled. The air, the wind, even her heart. The silence became its own being, cloaking the room in
…
peace. In light.

Home.

Ava’s gaze fell to the voice box, but it only emitted the one solitary word through the monotone, robotic voice. Home. Did that mean Peter thought Sarah was home? Did Sarah tell Peter she was home? Was it a fluke in the machine?

She glanced around, tremors wracking her limbs. The lavender scent had faded. The impenetrable, angry cold was also gone. In its wake was a contentment that she had never sensed inside the mansion before. Her muscles relaxed in awe.

And she knew without checking the digital or feed or anything else that Peter Trumble found Sarah Kerrick once again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“
You guys will have to come back when you get some free time from filming,
”
Ava said, crossing her arms.
“
You
’
ll always have a room here, free of charge. All you have to do is call.
”

He shook his head, wondering how she could stay so bloody cordial while he was going stark raving mad. They’
d been drawing out good-bye for fifteen minutes.

He stood off to the side and let his crew say goodbye to Ava. Again. They were dragging this out and he knew it. Seemed no one wanted to leave. They each gave her a hug and promised to keep in touch, something which none of them had ever done on a case before. Bollocks. Even Sammy had tears in her eyes.

Last night, after a nice dinner over takeout and relaxing conversation among the crew, Ava had excused herself to bed. She hadn
’
t even asked to review the feed to see if they got an EVP. It was as if she knew the ghosts had reconnected and she resigned herself to being alone.

He
’
d spent the night alternating between sitting at the edge of his bed staring at the bedroom door and standing by the door with his hand on the knob. He
’
d never made it over the threshold. He
’
d listened to her footsteps padding upstairs most of the night, pacing through the apartment, seemingly just as restless.

In the end, neither had made a move.

Which was for the best, really. This was damn hard enough.

The equipment was loaded and the crew was ready to go. This was bloody hell it, the end. He couldn
’
t breathe. The team stepped outside while he struggled to remain upright. What had this woman and this house done to him where he couldn
’
t even make himself leave?

He palmed the front door closed, shutting the crew out and he and Ava in.

Pinching his eyes closed, he sucked in air.
“
I can
’
t seem to do it, Ava.
”

Her warm palms cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her.
“
Yes, you can. You just put one foot in front of the other
…”

Bollocks. He
’
d even miss her snark.
“
Ava
—”

“
Jackson, let
’
s not ruin this by making it something it wasn
’
t. You did your job. You have to go.
”

His job. Was that all this was?

He shook his head. Leaving shouldn
’
t hurt. Leaving never hurt before. That night in the library, he
’
d demanded she ask him to stay. She hadn
’
t. Damn if he
’
d be weak and ask again.
“
What are you afraid of?
”
His voice had taken on a dangerous, desperate edge he didn
’
t recognize, and wasn
’
t sure he liked.

“
You know why. There
’
s too dark a history here to risk it. Add in the other obstacles and there you have it.
”

He didn
’
t care about the history or her obstacles, damn it. He cared about her.

“
Ava, I
…”
He let out a harsh breath. Glanced aimlessly around the foyer. Closed his eyes. Resolved himself to the truth. He had to go.
“
I hope your dream is everything you imagined it would be.
”

Bloody lamest thing he
’
d ever said in his life.

A sob squeaked in her throat, but to his amazement, she kept the tears from spilling. He realized she wanted him to stay too, but being the smarter and stronger of the two of them, she made the hard decision.

“
Thank you for everything, Jackson.
”

Then
—
Christ,
then
—
she pressed a kiss his forehead and stepped away. He pulled her back and kissed her deeply, until he was sure he
’
d ruined her for any other man. When he ended the kiss, he rested his cheek against hers.

“
Take care of yourself, Ava.
”

…

By the time the week before Christmas rolled around, Ava had kept herself busy with plans for the B&B. She’
d hired a contractor from York who
’
d started working on the third floor the week before the sprinkler installation. She
’
d even begun working on a website and asked Frank from the hardware store to build her a sign for the front yard. Mable
’s Boutique Spa in town would supply the B&B with lotions, bath salts, and shampoos. Her mother, somewhat under duress, had engraved gold name plates for the family portraits and was even designing door signs for each suite.

She’
d decided to give each room a name instead of a number. Prominent members of her family had a suite named after them, including her great-aunt Lois. The room Jackson stayed in would be called Peter and Sarah. She also incorporated an informational brochure in the suites with a history of the house and biography on the family member the room was named after.

Even though she kept herself busy, the loneliness would creep back in late at night and remind her of how much she missed Jackson. It was ridiculous. She
’
d only known him a month, and though they
’
d been in somewhat tight accommodations and spent a lot of time together, it was too short a time to have fallen in love with him.

But she
had
fallen in love with Jackson Granger. No doubt.

This dream she’d had her whole life was finally coming to pass. She was going to open Trumble mansion to the public and share both its beautiful and turbulent history. But none of it meant anything without love. She knew that now. Visitors and guests be damned, it wasn’t the same as a family. A house needed love inside it, just as people did. This mansion was built on love, and love had almost destroyed everyone who entered. She had a chance to change that, but she’d let it go.

Let him go.

She glanced down at her desk in the library and leaned back in her seat. A package from Sammy arrived in the mail containing a letter and a DVD episode of
Phantoms
featuring the Trumble mansion. It was a rough cut and wouldn’
t air until the season finale next year. She hadn
’
t watched the show yet, but the letter was short. Other than implying the last EVP they caught was very interesting, Sammy had nothing else to say.

Jackson hadn
’
t called, or texted, or emailed, or sent up so much as a smoke signal in Ava
’
s direction to indicate he missed her. Perhaps he had a clearer head away from Kerrick and realized his feelings for her weren
’
t real.

If only she could claim the same.

She shook her head. She
’
d never get over him if she kept doing this to herself. She picked up the DVD and headed upstairs to the third floor. She
’
d watch the show and then wash her hands of all things Jackson. She changed into pajamas and settled in to watch.

It was strange seeing herself on television, watching all the events unfold. Music had been added for tension and captions for the EVPs, while Jackson narrated the show. Seeing him again and hearing his voice made her ache to be near him one more time.

She leaned forward when, on film, she entered the grand hall alone trying to reunite Peter and Sarah. The way the show played out the scene was brilliant, cutting out the excess and building suspense. The voice box said
“
Home”
and Ava pressed a palm to her chest. Her heart tripped all over again. She waited, listened, watched, dying to know what EVP Sammy referred to.

Then, there it was. A voice in Peter Trumble’
s deep, haunting baritone.

Not alone anymore, Ava
.

She gasped and reared back, tears streaming from her eyes and clogging her throat. Not only had Peter found Sarah, he made it a point to address Ava directly so she’
d know. That would explain why the house hadn’t had any activity. The ghosts had moved on too.

God, she was so freakin
’
happy and miserable at the same time. She missed Sarah, Peter, and Jackson so damn much. Her chest cracked wide open with pain. The claw of grief scratched her throat. Even Aunt Lois sprang to mind, the only person before
Phantoms
who believed in her.

Gone. They were all gone.

She gave in and flopped down to cry it out.

What seemed like years later the sobs subsided. Her wet cheek pressed into the fabric of the couch, probably becoming one with the material. Maybe she could stay right here forever. No one would notice. She’
d just become another ghost to haunt the place.

She blinked at the credits, barely registering anything but the pain. The emptiness.

Slowly, her muddled brain began to click with thought. She was not a weepy female who needed a man in her life. She wanted to keep this mansion and convert it to a B&B. She got her wish. Soon, she
’
d have guests to occupy her time. If Peter and Sarah could find happiness, so the hell could she. And she
’
d had enough of other people
’
s fear directing her life.

Ava sat up and reached for her phone.
“
Mom?
”

“
Well hello, sugarpea. How are
—”

“
I want to do Christmas here at the mansion instead of your house. Together. You and me and Dad.
”

Silence greeted her. She waited for the crickets to start chirping.

Her dad picked up another house extension as her mom kept breathing unsteadily in the receiver.
“
What
’
s going on, kiddo? Your mom
’
s as white as one of your ghosts.
”
Dad laughed at his own joke.

She repeated what she
’
d told Mom.

After a long, tense pause, Dad said,
“
Well, um
…”

“
Look, Mom, Dad, I could use a little support here. I know you
’
re scared, but I assure you the ghosts are gone. I need my parents to back me up if I expect the town to do it, too. I need you.
”

“
Oh, sugarpea. We
’
re here for you. You know that.
”

“
Actually, I don
’
t.
”
How horrible an admission that was. But truth was truth and it was long past time she be honest with them.

“
Honey,
”
Dad said hesitantly.
“
We can spend Christmas with you.
”

Her jaw fell. Monosyllables sputtered out of her mouth.

“
Sure, sugarpea. Er, but during the daylight. I
’
m gone before dark. We can go to the early-morning mass and walk over afterward. What can I bring?
”

Hysterical laughter burst from her chest.
“
Presents?
”

Dad chuckled.
“
Still a child at heart. Anything else we can do for you, kiddo?
”