Haunted (23 page)

He lifted his head, shaking it, and lifting a hand quickly. “I'm fine. Just ready to jump in a lake.”

“Oh?” Shirley was still frowning, disturbed.

“It's nothing. Adam Harrison has arrived, and wants to repeat a seance at the house tonight.”

Shirley made a thoughtful face, taking up a perch on the corner of his desk. “What's so bad about that?”

“Shirley, you know that I don't even believe that there is a ghost. I think I've got a real live person playing tricks around the place.” He scowled. “Serious tricks.”

Shirley shook her head slowly. “Any reports back on the wood from the library?”

“Yeah. Soda.”

“What?”

“They were weakened by soda. Some kind of cola spilled into them.”

Shirley was silent for a minute. “Matt, sounds as if some kid was in the library and spilled a drink that they weren't supposed to have in there in the first place.”

“Yeah, that's what it sounds like, isn't it?”

Shirley was silent. “Matt, do you think you're protesting this a little bit too much?” she asked. “I mean, really, does what happened at the library have to have something to do with anything else going on at Melody House?”

“No, it doesn't.”

“And yet you're still convinced that it does?” Shirley asked softly.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Hunch, I guess.”

“Mm,” Shirley said thoughtfully.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Let me ask you another question. I heard that your arrival at the library was incredibly opportune. You arrived just in time, before Miss Tremayne gave up her grasp on the wood. How and why do you think you arrived in just the nick of time?”

He scowled. “I probably knew that Darcy was hanging around the library and just wanted to check up on her.”

“Oh, Matt, come on. You went there on some kind of a hunch, too. And how is a lot of police work done? Hunches!”

“Gut reaction, from what we've learned over years,” Matt corrected.

“Ah, come on, you're doing that Shakespearean thing, protesting too much.”

“Shirley, please. You don't believe in ghosts.”

“I don't know what I believe in,” she told him earnestly. “I certainly wouldn't say oh, yes! There are ghosts, I know it. But I've seen far too many strange coincidences not to believe that there may be some form of ESP out there. Experts say we only use a very small section of our brains in our day-to-day lives. Maybe the human mind, or spirit, is capable of far more than the normal person ever gets to know. Hey! Can I come to your seance?”

“Shirley, I'm really sorry. Adam Harrison wants to re-create the last seance we had down to the last man and woman, with only himself there as well, observing. But I tell you what—the minute I hear they're going to pop out a Ouija board, your name is first on the invitation list.”

 

By eight that night, all those who had attended the first seance had arrived at Melody House. David Jenner had his video set up, and Adam and Darcy had also arranged a small slew of instruments throughout the room, including a gauge to determine the temperature in different parts of the room, as well as an electrometer and magnometer which Adam explained were to measure electric and magnetic forces within the room.

Matt had stayed late at work, hoping to avoid most of the hoopla. Still, it was his house, and nothing was going on in it without him being there. He managed to shower and change and be down for eight, just as Adam was arranging the table to his liking.

Tonight, Darcy was to be the star of the show.

He had tried to behave no differently toward her. After all, Adam was the one who had come to take things over. And he had been entirely earnest the night before in his efforts to understand just what made her believe in all that she did. Try as he might, though, by daylight, he couldn't help but think that she was living in a world of her own mind, no matter what results she might be able to achieve. He knew that he was offending her with his brief words and marked distance.

But he didn't like having the seance, and that was that.

Elizabeth Holmes came to him and spoke softly but reproachfully. “Matt, I really did know what I was doing. I was close, so close. I wish you would have let
me
try again.”

“They're professionals, Liz,” he told her.

Her eyes scanned him. “But you don't believe in any of this.”

“Lizzie, I brought them in to find out what was going on.”

Mae strode up, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, Matt! I do thank you for having me again. This is so exciting.”

“I had contact! I know I had contact!” Liz continued.

Jason Johnstone was carrying a scotch as he joined their circle. “I admit I'm intrigued. Hey, Matt, it has been pretty different and amazing since Miss Tremayne arrived. I'm going to cover the ceremony when you bury poor Amy's skull.”

“Great, just great,” Matt said, trying not to sound aggravated.

“See, Liz,
you
never found a skull,” Mae said.

“But you were here! I did contact the dead,” Liz insisted.

Carter sauntered on over, hand in hand with Delilah Dey. “Our councilwoman is a bit nervous,” he said.

“So spooky!” Delilah said with a delicious little shiver.

So asinine!
He almost retorted. Somehow, he refrained.

“Shall we begin?” Adam called out.

They all began to gather.

“Darcy, you'll take the middle seat,” Adam said. “Clint…Carter, if you would take seats at her side. David, you'll be filming. Miss Dey…Delilah, if you would sit at Carter's side? And Matt, next to Delilah. Mr. Johnstone, we'll put you next to Penny over there, who will be next to Clint. Matt…you and I will take the ends of the table down here, with Mae and Elizabeth down here, between us.”

They all filed into the chairs as Adam directed. Penny jumped up then, though, to lower the lights.

Adam remained cordial and cheerful throughout his instructions. Ever calm, casual, down-to-earth. He didn't advise that the house be darkened to a point of shadow—evidently, the man wanted some light on the situation. Matt had to admit a tug of admiration for the old man, but then again, he knew that Harrison would allow for no charades.

Wasn't that why he had allowed Harrison Investigations in from the beginning?

Not really,
he admitted to himself.

He'd hoped that Adam would show up, and immediately prove that there was a hidden mike in the Lee Room or some such thing. Something Matt just hadn't seen.

But then…

He was a cop. A good one. He should have found any bugs by now.

“If everyone will take hands, we'll begin,” Adam said.

Obediently, hands were held around the table.

Matt wasn't sure what he was expecting then. Adam speaking with a Vincent Price spookiness to his voice, maybe.

But Adam was as casual as if they were gathering for a picnic on the beach. “Please remember to keep contact with one another, hands on the table at all times. If anyone should become really frightened, just cry out, and we'll stop the proceedings.”

“Oooh, I'm scared!” Clint teased, wide-eyed.

“Me, too,” Carter said. “Thank God I'm hanging on to Delilah.”

“Carter, you rake!” Delilah said with an appreciative giggle.

“Really! However can we expect anything?” Liz demanded indignantly.

“Oh, Darcy's fine, whatever,” Adam said mildly. “But…are we ready?” He wasn't really asking the crowd around the table. Just Darcy.

Her eyes were on his. She was as casual as she might be herself, in an attractive green blouse and jeans. She certainly didn't look like a medium.

“Darcy?” Adam said.

She nodded imperceptibly, and lowered her head.

Silence reigned for several long seconds, then Adam said. “Is Josh with you?”

“He's calling to me, but says that he can't enter,” Darcy said.

“Why can't he enter?” Adam asked.

“He doesn't know exactly why. The spirit within is too strong now, the emotions remaining are almost overwhelming. There's terror…and mistrust.”

“Tell Josh to be himself. Gentle, kind.”

They waited. Darcy shook her head, and once again, there was silence.

“Ask the spirit itself to speak with us,” Adam directed her.

She nodded, moistening her lips. “Please, we're here for you,” she said. “We don't understand, but we're here for you. We need to understand.”

Jason Johnstone shuffled his legs. Penny frowned. They all stared at Darcy.

Matt didn't know what to expect next.

What did come caused the hair to rise at his nape.

“Help.”

It was Darcy who spoke the word, but it wasn't really Darcy at all. The voice wasn't hers. Her eyes were closed, her head was slightly lowered. Her lips moved, and sound came from them, but the voice that spoke wasn't Darcy's at all.

“I never thought…as bad as it got…a killer, my God, a killer. That he could do such a thing…”

Penny gasped softly. Adam frowned at her sternly.

“Do what? Who are you, please? We can't help if we don't—”

“Oh, my God!”
Darcy suddenly called in the strange voice.

“What, please?” Adam said.

“Can't, can't…can't breathe, don't you see…the danger is…here, danger is with us, oh, God, you must see, must see, must…”

“Who are you?” Adam inquired again softly.

There was silence for a minute. Penny's grip on Matt's hand was so hard that it threatened to break bone. Her eyes were open, her mouth was formed into an O. Mae, too, was just staring at Darcy, jaw slack with amazement. Clint and Carter were trying to appear skeptical, yet Matt was certain that his cousin was feeling a jolt of fear.

And as for himself…

Yes, he felt the sense of fear, too. A deep, strange unease.
He didn't
want
to believe. Logically, he
couldn't
believe. And yet he felt it. Something very eerie. Something that created a chill, deep in his bones.

Elizabeth Holmes, the ex-medium of the moment, was simply gaping. And Delilah Dey looked as if she would cry out at any second.

Then a scream sounded. Gasping, high-pitched, rising to a shriek loud enough to shatter glass. It was Darcy, and yet, it wasn't Darcy at all.

They all jumped.

“Maintain your handholds!” Adam directed, and he spoke to Darcy. “Please, we're here, trying to help you.”

Darcy shook her head wildly.

“Why are you so afraid?” Adam asked.

“Here, here, here…”
Darcy mouthed.

“But we're here, to help you.”

“No!”
The voice that wasn't Darcy's, but coming from her lips, cried out.

“Please, we need to know—” Adam began.

“No, no!”
The voice cried again in terror and anguish.

Once again, the sound of the scream shattered the night.

“Help me, God help me, help me!”

And then, something worse. Choking, gasping, a desperate struggle to breathe. Sounds so terrible, and so real.

The sounds of a murder…

The sound of death.

T
his time, it was too much for Delilah Dey. She jerked free from the handholds around the table.

“My God! That's horrible! Please, turn on all the lights, please, make this stop!”

To Matt's amazement, he felt the same way himself.

Hands were released. Darcy's eyes were wide and on Adam's again. She had a questioning look in her eyes.

“We have to give it up tonight,” Adam Harrison said, staring at Darcy.

“Drinks!” Penny gasped out. “Drinks. Would you all like drinks? I know I want one!”

She leapt up. The circle was definitely broken. Delilah was shaking like a leaf blown in autumn. Jason Johnstone was white. Even Clint and Carter were looking unnerved.

Matt found himself staring hard at Darcy. Still so beautiful. Something inside him had to deny her, though. Deny what he had seen.

It must have been…theater!

A sham, all a sham. She was beautiful, smooth, cool, dignified…and a charade artist. Or half-crazy herself. How the hell had she done the voice? Because it was good, oh, hell, yes, he had to admit, it was good, really good, he had goose pimples rising on his own arms.

Dead was dead. He had seen the dead too many times. The dead did not come back to life.

No matter what he had seen, heard. No matter hints of something more played with his mind.

She knew. Although Adam had locked his gaze with hers, Darcy knew that Matt was looking at her. She turned to him. Distant, challenging, cool, and even contemptuous. As if she knew he was a liar. All the gentle words and tenderness he had offered were false. He might be madly infatuated with her elegant beauty and sensuality, but he was the one who was a sham. He couldn't handle it.

He was angry with himself, angry with her. He never gave away anything with his expression that he didn't mean to. He was a sheriff; he'd been a cop too long. But Darcy could see right through him.

She turned away, dismissing him. She rose as if she hadn't been speaking in a different voice, as if she'd never let out a scream that had just paralyzed an entire room.

“Penny, let me help you. I'd love a drink, myself.”

“I'll help, too!” Delilah said quickly.

Adam looked at David Jenner. “You got it all on tape?”

“Yes, Mr. Harrison.”

“I think I'll take it to my room,” Adam said. He looked around at the others. “If you'll excuse me.”

No one actually answered him. He took the tape from David, and left them.

“I think I should go home,” Mae said, still just sitting, staring blankly in front of herself. “Oh. I didn't bring my car, Delilah picked me up.” She focused then, looking at Matt. “I…well, I'll just have a drink, too, then.”

“If you want to go home, Mae, I'll be happy to take you,” Matt said. He rose so quickly he could have knocked the table over. It was his house.

He couldn't wait to leave it.

Mae said a few quick goodbyes, and Matt led her out to his car. She was silent as he started up the engine, then she said, “Mother Mary!” Matt knew that she stared at him. “That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“Yeah, she's good,” Matt said.
Good! What was he saying, admitting? Good. There were many ways to be good.

He realized that he was furious with himself, but he was furious with himself because of Darcy. And it couldn't be real.

“She can really contact the dead!” Mae said with awe.

Matt found himself barking back at her. “No—I mean that she's good as an actress. A damned good actress. That was her major before she came up with all those other degrees, you know.”

“Oh, Matt!” Mae said with dismay. “You can't believe that.”

“I do,” he said stubbornly.

“Granted, I haven't gotten to know her anywhere nearly as well as you—”

“Right, you can bet on that,” Matt said, a double edge of irony in his voice.

“But we both know she's not the kind of flimflam artist who would go around…giving people false hope, or making a mint on a pretense.”

Matt stared at Mae. “You can't really believe that someone can just talk to the dead at will, can you?”

“I sure believe what I saw tonight.”

“What did you see?” Matt said angrily. “You saw Darcy speaking, answering questions that Adam asked her, screaming like a banshee, and that was about it. Did she come up with any answers? Did she give us a name? A reason why this woman would be screaming and asking for help?”

“Delilah jumped up,” Mae reminded him. “She broke the circle, the communication.”

Matt sniffed audibly. “Darcy has been here some time now. And she hasn't the least idea of what is going on in the house.”

“Yes, but she found the skull in the woods,” Mae reminded
him. “And she went through the floorboards in the library,” she added frowning.

“God knows, she probably spilled cola all over the floor herself.”

“Matt!” Mae protested.

“Okay, so that was coincidence,” Matt said.

Mae shook her head. “Oh, come on, Matt. I know what you think. You believe that maybe even Penny is making things happen, because she's so into the concept of the house of being haunted. Or maybe someone else, for God knows what reason. You thought that if you had Adam Harrison out, he'd find some immediate proof that everything that has happened was bogus. Well, that's just not true. And I always thought you were so smart. That you listened better than anyone I knew, which made you such a great sheriff. You could handle the really bad guys, and keep young pranksters from going down the wrong path. Well, now you're just being stubborn and stupid. And you know why? You're afraid. You're afraid to let go of any preconceived notion you have. You've believed something forever, so it must be true.”

Matt stared at her. He'd never heard Mae so fierce.

“Every word I'm saying is true. And I can tell you what other people won't because I knew your folks, and I'm way too old to flirt with you, or any of that rot. I'm just an old barmaid with a good eye and a good ear, but I care about you a lot, and I hate to see you act like an idiot!”

He almost laughed, Mae was so determined to speak her mind.

“Mae, please.”

“Hey, no! Matt,
please
. What, are you letting your past slip into some of this? Darcy has red hair. Besides that, she isn't a thing like Lavinia, yet you automatically distrust her. Your ex-wife could stab someone in the back and smile while doing it. Darcy isn't a thing like that.”

“Hey! May I remind you, when Lavinia first came to Stoney
ville, everyone thought she was the most beautiful, sweetest thing to ever walk the earth.”

“We thought that for all of about two seconds. We were horrified by the time you two married. But hell, none of us had a right to say anything.”

“Thanks for the lecture, Mae,” he said dryly.

“How is Lavinia these days?” Mae asked, smoothing her hair back. “Clint told me she used to call you constantly, even after the divorce. That she was jealous as all hell, even when she went back to her old social whirl.”

“She must be happy, because I haven't heard from her in quite some time,” Matt said.

“She must have found herself a new young stud somewhere,” Mae said.

“I hope,” Matt said absently. Lavinia was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

“Right, I know you mean that. But what you haven't gotten down right is the fact that Darcy Tremayne isn't anything like her.”

“Thank you, Mae.”

“Ass!” Mae muttered.

“Mae, look, I'm damned sorry, but I do think this is all bull. Hey—maybe it's even bull in her own mind. Hell, that's not a maybe. Because you're right. I'm uptight, all right. And maybe that's why I've been such an ass, and I'm sorry. Darcy…is very different. Beautiful, and a wonderful person. She means to be decent. She believes all this herself. But she has dreams, wakes, and thinks they're real. She wants to conjure up a spirit, and so she does. Excuse me. It's just a little too creepy and ridiculous for me.”

They'd reached Mae's house. She slammed out of the passenger door and came around to peer into the driver's window, despite the fact that he had just started to back out.

“Anyone could see the way it is between you two, Matt. Fire and ice. She makes you mad as hell, and hot as hell. Just like
Lavinia. So, if you're really going to be such a pigheaded jerk, keep your pants zipped, huh?”

“Mae—” he began angrily.

She quickly retreated from the window. “Thanks for the ride, Matt. Good night.”

She turned to walk up the path to her house. He swore, slammed his hands against the steering wheel, and backed out the driveway.

 

Darcy was always vaguely aware of what had gone on, even though she didn't know the particulars. The way everyone was behaving, she was certain that, if nothing else, there had been one hell of a show.

She had apparently done Carter a favor though, or so it seemed. Delilah Dey—whose eyes remained huge with fear and unease every time they fell upon Darcy—was clinging to him.

Actually, they made a cute couple, Darcy thought wryly.

Cute couple, yeah, but the way that Delilah stared at her was surely as unnerving as anything she might have done during the seance.

Drinks had been served all around. David Jenner seemed the most blasé, while Clint appeared to be sympathetic as he looked at her, Elizabeth Holmes in awe, Penny concerned. Carter? Hard to tell, he was so busy being supportive to the lovely Delilah Dey. Jason Johnstone was reflective as he watched her, and appeared to be entirely open-minded. Unnerved perhaps, but not to the point of staring at her as if she were an alien.

Not as Matt had done.

Matt, gone now, naturally. Sure, he needed to give Mae a ride home.

“Have you always been like that?” Delilah asked her.

“Like…?” Darcy said, arching a brow. She knew what Delilah meant. She just wanted clarification.

“Well,” Delilah said, hesitating.

Creepy? Is that what you mean?
Darcy didn't say it out loud.

“Able to…really get to dead people?” Delilah said.

“No,” she said. “I had a friend once. He taught me,” she said simply.

“Okay, okay,” Clint said. “Darcy gave us all a start. We've all been so freaked out that we haven't stopped to wonder just what it meant.” He was looking at Darcy expectantly.

She shook her head. “I'm going to have to see the tape, Clint.”

“So you, like, black out, when that happens?” Jason asked her.

“Not really. But I don't have a clear vision of what happened.”

“You really had a different voice,” Delilah told her.

“A very frightened voice,” Carter said.

“The point is, what was the voice so frightened of?” Penny said.

“Right. How can someone dead be so terrified?” Delilah asked.

Darcy shrugged and answered slowly, carefully. “Hauntings are usually caused by a spirit's inability to get past certain moments in life. Maybe they haven't accepted the fact that they're dead.”

“Say this is Arabella,” Penny chimed in, excited, “and she was murdered. Maybe she thinks that she can get help, and it won't happen.”

“There's probably a line,” Liz put in excitedly. “A delicate, fragile line, between life and death. But those who died violently or in painful circumstances can't quite find the line. So they're in limbo. And still afraid, perhaps, of the things that frightened them in life.”

“That may be the answer,” Darcy told her.

“We have to find out what that poor creature is afraid of!” Liz said.

“I agree,” Penny said, swallowing down the last of her scotch. “Adam should have let us start over. Maybe we could try right now.”

Darcy shook her head. “She won't come back now.”

“How do you know that?” Carter asked.

“Fine lines,” Darcy told him. “She's retreated.”

“Is she watching us?” Clint asked.

Darcy hesitated. “I don't…feel…anything right now. Whatever ghosts reside here, they've all stepped back.”

Delilah turned to Carter. “I have my own car, but I think I'm afraid to drive home alone.” She looked abashed at Darcy. “It's so dark around here. These roads at night are creepy on their own, and I'm going to think there's a ghost at my shoulder all the way home.”

“Delilah, it will be my pleasure to drive home with you in your car,” Carter told her.