Wanted: One Ghost (19 page)

James looked to April, still unsure. She shrugged in a positive way.

“I won’t be able to offer benefits, and it will be strictly in cash. Consider it a bit of spending money until you get your wallet replaced.”

James piped up. “How much for the position?”

When Beth gave them the numbers—a more than generous amount for taking on an unknown for a two-week stint—April wished she could play the part of James Addison.

But this would work out very nicely. She knew James was having a difficult time dealing with his lack of funds and living off of her. Though truthfully the man wasn’t much of an expense, she could claim him as a business write off—historical research.

“So what does the job entail?” James asked as the deal was struck.

“You’ll wear period costumes we’ve designed from the time period—something compatible with what a man of James Addison’s character would have worn. Attend three social afternoon teas at the historic Kings Mill Inn, give two tours a day, once in the morning and once in the late afternoon, and then there is the final event, of course, the dramatization of James Addison’s execution.”

April noticed James’s body quiver involuntarily. “Nothing is going to happen—it’s just for pretend. You don’t have to do this, Jim, if you’re not comfortable.”

He nodded for her benefit, sharing the knowledge he understood. “No. James Addison would have wanted to support Kings Mill. He always did. I should honor the tradition, in his name.”

Beth’s smile couldn’t be blown off with a bazooka. She clasped her hands together tightly and did a very unprofessional little dance of gratitude. The older woman looked like a contestant on a game show winning an all expense paid trip to Europe.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much this means. This is going to save my butt! I owe you guy’s big time,” she gushed and began to pace. “Okay, I need to make arrangements with Ana for your fittings, see to the events at the Inn…” She began ticking things off an imaginary list in her head. “Wait! We need to go over your historical information on Kings Mill from the colonial period. I want to make sure you authenticate the tour with the history. Are you available?”

April wanted to laugh. James could teach Beth about the history of colonial Kings Mill. After all, he’d lived it. Tilting her head in Beth’s direction, she nodded to James. “Go ahead and do what you need to start your ‘job,’
James Addison
. I’m just going to be here looking for your signature on some old documents of yours,” she teased.

Oh, this was going to be an interesting couple of weeks for Kings Mill!

“…All I am saying, Dottie, is April should let us know every detail she encounters.”

Dinner was sitting heavy on her now that they were walking to the city park. She was actually going to do this. She was going to ‘touch the tree’ and see if it would transport her into the other realm. April had finally convinced her grandmother and great-aunt to listen to reason. The elm tree was the only way she had to connect with the past, to find the truth to James’s execution.

With James heavily ensconced in his role of himself for Kings Mill’s festivities, now was the perfect opportunity. He was out and about, enjoying an evening entertaining the guests of some of the older taverns he’d frequented back in 1774. She’d attended one to see him at work last night, the Old Town Tavern, in which he told the story of Millie…and the other maid.

He’d done an excellent job, she had to admit. The guests had found his tales and details of the past so realistic many of them had stopped eating and conversing to follow his every move. He hammed it up the more the audience responded. Being able to share his life with others, James glowed with happiness. He was a great story teller and stand-up comedian as he reflected on a bygone era. Not to mention he had every female eye on him in the traditional costume he’d been wearing when they’d first met.

April found herself just as immersed, until he spoke of the ménage. The other guests laughed at his humorous pride at having two women fighting over him. He preened and flaunted his charms—revealing the James Addison of the past, no doubt, and his great conquests.

As much as she’d found his telling of the stories fascinating, she’d been jealous as hell. How could she compete with the bawdy act he’d been famous for? Had it actually been true? Did he follow through? He never said. If it was, was he still into such things? When they got home, she took it upon herself to try to impart, in vivid detail, that he would no longer need another woman as long as he lived. Her face flamed at the memory of last night’s escapade. She’d never made love against a wall before.

She turned her attention back on her aunt and grandmother who were arguing over her paranormal issues. This was not how she wanted this night to go. She had a limited window of time to get this done without James finding out. Her mother was staying home suffering another migraine and didn’t want to be bothered.

It bothered April though. Why didn’t her mother accept her gift and try to work with it—if not for the ghosts, then at least to relieve the damn headaches. Grandma Dottie was running out of her potions and herbs and they weren’t going away.

“I am not saying anything to the contrary, Vickie. But she’s not aware of what she’s seeing. Her realm is different than ours. We can’t see her ghosts, except for James, but he’s a solid entity now.” Dottie got side tracked but came back. “All we can do is
feel
the energy of our surroundings. Most of what we’ve encountered has been malevolent, from the house to the ruined remains. April is actually witnessing and being drawn into the past.” She stopped walking and focused her attention on April.

Her aunt stopped too and was looking from Dottie to her, trying to clue in on why her sister stopped with sudden interest.

“What?” April looked from one mentor to the other. “What did I do now?”

“I’m wondering.” Dottie turned to her sister. “Victoria, do you remember mother mentioning someone with a similar situation? Wasn’t it Mother’s friend Maggie? They ended up institutionalizing the poor soul. Maggie had the ability to see the past play out before her at certain times but could never interact.”

Great! Was she going to end up being institutionalized, too?

“This might be what’s happening to April.” Vickie nodded. “Then perhaps the key would be to find someone in the other realm able to ‘see’ you and interact with you.”

“What then? Wouldn’t it disrupt history? Think of the dire impact it would have,” April added.

“You’re right about disrupting history, dear. But there might be a way to document certain incidents for the history books without changing the past. That is what you want, just to find out the actual truth behind history’s greatest mysteries,” Dottie replied with a thoughtful look as they continued on to the park.

“Grams, someone from the other time period would have to be the one to document it.”

“Or they would have to leave enough clues for the historians and archeologists to piece together the truth. You say Catherine Samuel is somehow trying to communicate with you? Would there be a way to get her to leave clues?” Aunt Vickie smiled deviously.

April thought about the chatelaine Catherine had tried to throw to her at the ruins. The ghost was trying to tell her something. She needed the chatelaine. “I think she already is.”

***

The mood turned somber as the elm tree came into view. As much as April needed to do this, how would it affect her relationship with James? If he were to find out, how pissed would he be? Did the man have a temper? Other than his bluff and bluster over forbidding her to do this, he really didn’t seem the type of person to harm another. But if she could find some clues, maybe talk with Catherine’s ghost, if she was there tonight, then it would be worth it.

“Now, we will be here with you but try and stay in the past. Don’t lose your connection. Listen to us if you can and follow our orders. We may or may not be able to sense what is going on,” Aunt Vickie lectured.

“I know. I’m ready.” She gave her aunt and grandmother a nervous smile. Now she understood what her mother dealt with. The uncertainty frightened her. If it weren’t for James needing her help she might be running in the opposite direction, too.

Removing her glove she studied the tree. April turned to her family one more time. Aunt Vickie nodded, indicating they were ready as she and Grams joined hands and closed their eyes, preparing themselves for their own interactions. Placing her bare hand on the tree, April took a deep breath and held on.

A shock of pain took hold as her body was physically forced to turn and view what her ears couldn’t hear. The image of Catherine Samuel flashed before her. The ghostly figure seemed momentarily indecisive and then stepped into her. April twitched with the woman’s soul manifesting in her, taking over her physical form.

A strong scent of spring time lilac, even in the midst of winter’s death surrounded her, became a part of her. April could hear and see everything happening around her! The sounds of the past came to life. April could hear the roar of a crowd, the vibrations of feet stomping as the people egged the prisoner forward to his ultimate demise. History was actually taking shape before her eyes.

Mobs of people crowded around them. Torches and bonfires in the middle of the town square and along the streets lit the night. A figure cloaked and on horseback, wearing black breeches and a white shirt caked with dirt was bound and brought under the outstretched branches of the tree. The hood obscured his identity but she could tell by the proud stance he could only be James. Even facing his death he sat tall, defying those who sentenced him on the block. They placed the noose over his hood and cinched it tightly to his throat. April gasped internally. Her physical host, Catherine, gave a startled scream.

A harsh voice whispered into her ear as she was held firmly in place. “Silence, wife! Look at him! See what you have done! It’s because of you, whore, that the man sits and awaits his ultimate dishonor and death.”

April could actually hear her assailant, his hot, fetid breath on her face. She knew the stench—from the day in her bedroom and again the other night. Her hand remained attached to the tree, and just like at the manor house, she couldn’t move it. Henry Samuel was actually forcing her, holding her jaw steady, to watch the gruesome event about to take place.

The executioner whipped the horse on the hindquarters sending it galloping forward in frenzy, releasing James from his seat to dangle before the crowd. Now April’s scream mixed with Catherine’s, the two voices colliding and echoing in her head, calling out to James. She clenched her eyes tight. She didn’t want to see any more.

The man’s fingers bit into her jaw making her unable to do anything but face the action. She kept her eyes closed, knowing what was to come.

“Open your eyes, Witch! This is as much for your punishment as it is for his. Now perhaps you will learn not to defy me!” Henry seethed, shaking her.

What was he talking about? Had Catherine done something to sentence James to his death?
Talk to me, Catherine! Tell me something.
You’re using my body for a purpose—tell me why!

All she knew was the force of being held against her wishes to watch something she never ever wanted to be a witness to, personal acquaintance or not. The whole act of this senseless execution was barbaric. She was angry now and struggled against Henry’s hold on her.

Fight, damn it! Come on Catherine, fight this man! Don’t let him see your weakness—don’t let him take advantage of you.

“Let go of me!” April seethed around the pressure of his grip on her jaw.

It was her words but Catherine’s voice. She even contained Catherine’s fear but she refused to let it be a part of her. She fought not only Catherine’s lack of fortitude, but the man she struggled against. Darkness clouded her vision, seeping around the edges of her sight. Fear and horror mixed with her anger and adrenaline. Was she going to faint?

Don’t you dare let us faint, Catherine! Don’t let him win. Stay with me. Focus on me, use my strength.

If she could remove her hand she would have a greater ability to fight but she was attached to the tree, unable to let go. Fighting with what she could, April lifted her booted heel and slammed it into his shin. Her assailant immediately let go of her face as she brought her second boot up to get him in the knee cap but instead she felt a sharp sting to her face. She screamed.

No one could hear her. Muted screams and cries of horror emanating from the crowd of people watching the execution of James Addison drowned her out. She'd seen all she’d wanted and was remotely glad for the distraction as she fought for her life. Henry grabbed her by her blonde hair, wrenching her head up at a high angle with one hand and encircling her throat with his other meaty paw, slowly squeezing the blood flow to her brain.

“I’ll make you pay! God help you, Catherine!
I’ll make you pay
!”

She needed to get out of here! Henry was going to kill her. Where in the hell were her aunt and grandmother?

April felt her sanity slip a bit as oxygen seemed to leave her. Darkness surrounded her. Her body fell limp as a sharp kick to her ribs sent her into a spasm. Her grandmother called to her from somewhere in space and time as her aunt echoed, “Demon, be gone!”

On her back, finally separated from the tree at her aunt’s single command, she swore James’s angry face stared at her from a distance before she passed out on the cool, prickly lawn of Kings Mill City Park.

***

Having finished his night of revelry at this evening’s hosting tavern, James strolled down the street toward home. He had to admit he felt more comfortable back in his old clothes. He was amazed at how willingly the patrons of Kings Mill accepted him in his role of their legend. The proprietors and customers alike greeted him as he walked the streets, day or night. He kept in character. Not that difficult considering who he was. It was nice to be himself and yet enjoy his new beginnings in a new era.

Beth Freelane thought he was perfect for the part. Of course he was perfect! No one could play himself better. He’d listened patiently over the past few days as she’d explained the details she knew of Kings Land/Kings Mill during the 1700’s and what she’d found out about James Addison. April made sure he understood he had to go with it. To inject his own personal experiences might cause questions to arise, questions neither he nor she wanted to try to explain to Dr. Freelane. He tried hard to accept the older woman’s ideas, even if he knew she was wrong. Besides, for the amount of money she was paying him, he would agree to her saying the sky was green. She was paying him more money then he’d ever dreamed of. It was by all means a king’s ransom and then some.

He doffed his hat to a lady and her husband passing on the street. She twittered and gushed as he addressed them in character. It felt good to just be him again, even if people thought it was all an act. Perhaps he could continue to portray himself and have April join him as one of his ‘lady friends’ for the events.