I looked around. I was sitting under the large tree again on the rock, but this time, Dunlow Castle was looking marvelously new and glorious. There was also a lovely cool breeze whistling through the branches of the tree as the sun warmed the air around me, but there was no sign of Dunnyvale. “Good point,” I conceded. “Why don’t you join me, though, and we can talk?”
Dunnyvale appeared from behind the tree and sat with a flourish. “ ’Tis a lovely day, now, don’t you agree?”
“I do. Too bad there aren’t more days like this at the Dunlow I’ve visited. It’s always raining or windy and cold.”
“You must come back in the summer,” Ranald told me. “We’ve beautiful weather then.”
“I’ll consider it,” I told him, right before getting to the heart of the matter. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this time?”
Dunnyvale picked a long blade of grass and nibbled at the ends. “You’re a very lovely lass, Miss Holliday, but you’re not nearly as clever as I’d hoped.”
Even in my dream I was shocked, but I decided to play it cool. “Oh?” I said coyly. “Why’s that?”
“Because you should have been much further along in this by now.”
“Finding Alex, you mean?”
“Aye.”
“Well,
pardon me
, Lord Dunnyvale, but I believe you gave me precious little to go on. After all, we only know Alexandra’s first name.”
But Dunnyvale was unmoved. “Oh, I expect you know a wee bit more than that.”
I tilted my chin toward the breeze. There was the strong smell of brine mixed with a sweeter flower scent. “We know that she’s Russian, and her last name begins with an
N
, and that she has red hair. Even in your day, my lord, that was not a lot to go on.”
“You’ve enough to locate her,” Dunnyvale insisted. “She holds the secret to the origins of the phantom, as well as being able to help you to rid it from my keep so that you may then find your friend. You must focus your efforts on reaching her quickly, and you must also be aware that you’re running out of time. I’ve been doing my best to reach her, but she hasn’t listened to me in years.”
That last sentence caught me off guard. “Wait ... what?”
But Dunnyvale refused to explain more. Instead he got up, looked down at me with a meaningful stare, and said, “Act quickly, now. Before it’s too late.”
“Hold on!” I said, leaping to my feet, as he began to turn away. “I need for you to tell me something, and this time, I need the truth.”
He paused then and turned around, the look on his face clearly insulted. “I’ve told you nothing but the truth from the start.”
I took a breath and tipped my chin. “I apologize,” I told him. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were a liar.”
“What is your question, miss?”
“I need to know if you really did have a treasure hidden away at Dunlow.”
Ranald smiled, but it was filled with melancholy. “Aye,” he said, as if that was a secret he was weary of. “And you’ll find it exactly where I told Jordan to look.”
I gasped. “You spoke to Jordan?”
“Aye,” he repeated. “I visited both him and Alex in their dreams the same way I’m visiting with you. I made the same request to them as well: to rid my castle of the phantom.”
“Where did you tell him to look?”
“I told them what I told my lovely wife, Josephine, on my deathbed,” he said. “That the treasure was hidden within another treasure, that of my heart’s truest love.”
I considered that for a moment. “That’s not much of a clue,” I said honestly.
“It’s a perfect clue, lass,” he told me. “And if you find it, you’ll also find the key to rid the castle of the phantom. But to use that key, you must first learn about it, and that you can only do if you locate Alex. She’s the one living soul who will help you fill in all the rest.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but the most horrendous scream jolted me awake, out of bed, and onto the floor.
The door of the room crashed open and Heath hurtled in, holding a spike and looking like he fully intended to use it.
In the bed opposite me, Gilley sat frightened and pointing at the TV. “What?” I gasped when no one said anything.
Gilley just continued to point at the screen, and I realized there was a children’s show on with a talking sheep.
“Oh, Jesus, Gilley!” I snapped as I got up and switched off the television.
Gilley immediately calmed down. “You know how I hate that!” he yelled when I turned to glare at him.
“What’s he talking about?” Heath asked me, still holding the spike up defensively.
“He gets freaked-out by talking animals,” I said, moving back to the bed in a huff. “You should have seen him when they did the remake of
Charlotte’s Web
.”
“It’s not natural!” Gilley insisted with a shudder.
“Grow up!” I yelled, truly pissed off that he was being such a child and that he’d interrupted my important visit with Dunnyvale.
Gilley gave me a scathing look. “You know,” he growled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “I don’t have to take that from you, M. J.!” He then threw off the covers, but the cord to his headphones was tangled around him, and as he whipped himself away from the mattress, the camera went flying and crashed into the wall, where it broke into several pieces.
“Shit!” I swore, looking at the mess.
“Gil!”
“Stop yelling at me!” he shouted, and began to cry.
Meanwhile, Meg, Kim, and John all hurried into the room. “What’s happened?” asked Meg.
“Gilley’s having
a moment
,” I said, moving over to the crushed remains of the camera. Now that we’d had our funds cut off, we had only one working camera to help us on our busts.
“So you told him,” John said.
I felt my jaw tighten when I saw Gilley turn to him. “Told me what?”
John looked surprised. “You know. That the three of us are on the first plane out tonight to head back to the States.”
“What?” he gasped. “Why?”
“Because we got fired,” said Meg. “Didn’t you know?”
“You guys got fired?”
Gilley cried, staring at me as if I’d withheld that news on purpose. “You poor things!” he went on. “I’m so sorry for you!”
Meg squinted at him. “Yeah, Gil. We
all
got fired. Including you.”
“WHAT?!”
I stood up with the pieces of the broken camera in my hand, knowing that I should have been the one to tell him, which helped to immediately dissolve my anger. Walking over to him I laid a hand on his shoulder, and said, “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll be all right.”
Gilley’s eyes were the size of saucers, and his breathing was coming in short little pants. “
We got fired?!
Like, for
real
?”
“We’ll be fine,” I assured him.
Gil’s breathing started to quicken even more and he sat down on the bed again, holding a hand over his heart. “But ... but ... what about the money? We were being paid
so
much money!”
“There are other gigs,” Heath said, coming to sit next to Gil.
“Why me, Lord?!” my partner wailed.
“Why?!”
It took us half an hour to calm Gilley down. It took us another two hours to convince him to stay with Heath and me and work on finding Gopher. Gil’s not so good under pressure. And he’s not always good at taking one for the team. Which is likely why, in grade school, he was always the last one picked for dodgeball.
Still, eventually we did calm him down in time to see Meg, Kim, and John off. They each gave me a great big hug, and looked terribly guilty as they loaded their luggage into the taxi. I was really going to miss them—especially on this bust, because we could have used the extra help.
After watching their taxi rumble down the road, Gil, Heath, and I turned back to the B&B.
Anya was waiting for us on the front step, holding a slip of paper and what looked like a letter in her hand. “I’m so sorry to trouble, you,” she said to us. “But it’s a matter of the bill, you see.”
“Let me guess,” I told her. “The credit card Gopher had on file has been rejected.”
Anya’s pleasant expression turned down in a frown. “Aye, I’m afraid so.”
“Great,” I muttered, irritated that the network had moved so quickly to cut off our funds.
“I even gave them a bell,” she said. “Rang the credit card company right up, but they’re refusing the charge.”
Heath reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed her his Visa with an apologetic smile. “You can put the tab on there.”
“Gil and I will each pay a third,” I told him.
He smiled gratefully.
Anya took the card and beamed a warm smile. “Thank you for understanding,” she said, turning to go back in. I was about to follow her when she seemed to catch herself and swiveled round again to face me. “Oh, I almost forgot. This came in the post for you. And I’m afraid I opened it before I’d taken note of who it was actually addressed to,” she said, appearing chagrined. “You might want to have a look at it straightaway.” With that, she handed me the letter and moved hastily inside.
I studied the envelope and was surprised to find it was addressed to “the American travelers.”
“Huh,” I said, showing Heath and Gil.
“That’s weird,” said Gilley.
“Open it,” Heath encouraged.
I did and pulled out a simple typewritten letter that read:
If you want to see your friend Peter alive again, you’ll stop dallying at the library and rid the castle of the phantom!
All three of us sucked in a breath. “What the hell ...?” Gilley said, snatching the letter from my hands. “Who wrote this?”
I flipped the envelope over. There was no return address, and both the envelope and the letter were typed. I showed it to him and he snatched that out of my hands as well.
Heath’s eyes locked with mine. “What do you think it means?”
I swallowed hard. A terrible feeling was settling into the pit of my stomach. “I’d like to say that someone’s just reminding us that Gopher’s in trouble, but my gut says there’s more at play here.”
“He knows Gopher’s first name,” Gilley said softly. “No one who knows him personally calls him Peter.”
“How do you know it’s a he?” I asked.
Gilley blinked. “I don’t. I just assumed.”
I knew what he meant. There was definitely a masculine edge to the language. “And it’s addressed to ‘the Americans,’ which means whoever sent it is likely a local.”
“But what’s the purpose?” Heath pressed. “I mean, we’re working as fast as we can on this. Why send us a letter to taunt us with Gopher’s disappearance?”
I pulled the letter back out of Gilley’s hands. “I don’t think he’s taunting us. I think he knows where Gopher is, and he’s telling us that we won’t get him back until we deal with the phantom.”
Gilley appeared skeptical of my theory, but Heath nodded. “That’s what my gut said the moment I heard you read it.”
“Hold on,” Gil said. “Gopher’s at the rock. Trapped somewhere in the castle by the phantom, right?”
Again Heath and I locked eyes, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. “We don’t know that for certain, Gil. We only know that the day Gopher went missing, we were at the rock.”
“But where else could he be?” Gilley insisted.
I studied the letter again. “I’ve no idea. And I’m still open to him being at Dunlow, but the past several times Heath and I have been to the rock, we’ve tried to find Gopher’s spirit and we’ve been met with bubkes.”
“That only means he isn’t dead,” Gil insisted.
“Not necessarily,” I reasoned after thinking on it for a moment. “I mean, we all send off energy, both the living and the dead. And when we went looking for Gopher, we didn’t sense his spirit or his ghost, which I took as a really hopeful sign; but now that I think about it, we also didn’t pick up any sense of him at all. Not even a murmur. If I’m reaching out to someone’s energy, I should be able to detect
something
. Even the smallest trace of his energy should have come to us if we were anywhere within about a quarter mile of him.”
“M. J.’s right,” Heath said, backing me up. “I mean, I remember when I was a little kid, no one would play hide-and-seek with me because I could
always
tell where my friends were hiding. They gave off a vibe that told me exactly where to find them. It’s the same method I use when I’m looking for spirit energy in the ether, although spooks give off a different vibration than living people. I seem to connect to their energy more easily just because I’ve had so much practice communicating with them.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly,” I said. “That’s exactly how it feels to me too.”