Haunted (26 page)

“Well, alcohol or not, I think you did meet up with a ghost. A dangerous ghost, so it seems. But at least, it did do something good for you,” Darcy said.

Marcia smiled. “Yes, the occasion did change my life. But I can tell you one thing—I'll never step foot inside Melody House again. Ever.” She studied Darcy. “Psychic investigator…so? Have you seen the ghost?”

“I know that there is a ghost in the room, and that she's trying very hard to make us understand something. I think she may be a woman who lived there hundreds of years ago by the name of Arabella,” Darcy told Marcia.

“Yeah, maybe,” Marcia said.

“You have another idea?” Darcy asked her.

“No…no.” Marcia shrugged. “I don't know—I had worked there before, that's all. Been in and out of that room dozens of times. And I'd never felt anything before.”

“Really?”

Marcia nodded. “It was about…I don't know, five years ago, I think. You could check the records. But I'd done parties in that house, worked part-time, forever.” She grimaced. “Arabella sure has taken her time getting around to whining, huh?”

“I guess she has,” Darcy said, then asked, “Is there anything else you can remember that might help me?”

“I wish. Like I said, I was drinking back then. I wish that I could help you more.”

“Believe me, you've helped me a lot,” Darcy told her. “I guess I'd better get going. It was a pleasure to meet you. And thank you so very much.”

“My pleasure,” Marcia assured her.

“And—” Darcy began.

“If I do think of anything else, I promise, I'll call you right away. Hey! Tell the gang hi for me, will you? Clint, Carter, Penny—and Matt.”

“I'll do that,” Darcy said. She waved as she walked out to the car, feeling as if a bunch of puzzle pieces were in front of her.

Their positioning should have been obvious, and she was certain, if she just tried hard enough, they would all fall right into place.

Just what was it that she was missing?

 

There was time to go back to the office when the judge adjourned the court for the day. Matt realized that he simply didn't want to go back.

Adam had never told him how long he and Darcy planned to be at Melody House. He could remember Adam telling him,
“It's not a paint job. I can't really estimate the hours we're going to need. But don't worry about it. You'll be able to go about your day-to-day business with no interference.”

Hah.

All right, so they didn't really interfere with his life. Not by just being there.

But there was this ridiculous tug. Not a hunch, or a gut feeling. He was anxious to be at the house.

Anxious, sure, because there were people in it.

There were always people in Melody House. They hadn't rented any of the rooms for now, and they hadn't scheduled any tours. But if they really needed to, they could. He was just loathe to do so until…

Until whatever was happening was solved—and not happening anymore.

He turned his car toward home, then poked the speed dial on his phone for home. Penny answered. “Hey,” he told her.

“Hey.”

“What's going on there?” he asked.

“Nothing much. I'm in the office, calling a few people. Juggling some Christmas parties—do you believe we have to book this early? Of course, it's exciting, but—”

“Darcy around?” he broke in.

“Yes, she and Adam were just having tea, and they're going up to the Lee Room soon.”

“She's all right?”

“Perfectly.”

“Has she been in all day?”

“No, actually, she wasn't here when I finished shopping.”

“Where did she go?”

“Honestly, Matt! I don't know. I don't give her a third degree every time she walks in or out of the house.”

“Maybe you should,” he muttered beneath his breath.

“What?”

“Never mind. By the way, call the appropriate minister and see if we can't have a little rite and get that skull buried tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, Matt? That's too fast! We won't be able to invite people, to have the press.”

“That's right.”

“Matt!”

“Penny.”

He heard a huff so loud the wind from it almost came through the phone. “All right, Matt. As you wish.”

“Thanks, Penny. You're a doll.”

“And you're a tyrant.”

“Sorry.”

“What on earth was that?” Penny murmured.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“I don't know…a thudding sound. I'll go see. Bye, Matt.”

“Penny, don't hang up—”

His answer was the dial tone. He tried to call back, and got the answering machine. Swearing, his lowered his foot on the gas pedal.

 

Adam knew that he was a good hypnotist, but there was also no subject in the world quite like Darcy.

They had talked awhile when she'd returned that afternoon to tell him about her visit to Marcia Cuomo. They had gone over the various events that had occurred in and around the house, and both agreed that there was something very peculiar about the ghost's desperation—and fear.

Most of all, Adam was disturbed that Josh didn't seem to be able to enter the house, the realm of onetime violence. He had always been Darcy's spiritual guide, and he knew that she sometimes felt lost without him.

“There's a force that keeps him away, and I can't understand it,” Darcy explained, shaking her head.

Adam was silent for a minute. There were still so many
things that he would never understand. He had never had the abilities Josh had possessed, now passed on to Darcy, but he did have a tremendous skill with the occult and it saddened him that he couldn't reach his own son, not the way that Darcy could. He had always recognized an extra sense in others, and he had known how to mentor and lead those who were confused and horrified by their own gifts.

He had begun Harrison Investigations when his wife, Carol, had died, and Matt had only been a child. His son had told him then, at the funeral, that his mother was there, trying to make them both understand that she would never really leave them, that she would be with them forever. He had wanted to contact her himself so desperately, for the pain of her loss had been devastating. And yet, he'd known that Josh had spoken the truth when he talked about seeing his mother, for he had told Adam things that only Carol had known, and in the time that followed, he had discovered himself incensed by those who claimed to be mediums and merely took the bereaved for all they were worth. In his pursuit of lies, he had stumbled upon truth, and found his own fascination with the sixth sense and the powers of the mind—and spirit.

Death had not been a terrifying prospect for Josh. He had known that his mother would come to take his hand, just as he had known that he was not meant to have many years on earth. Josh's certainty regarding his own early demise had chilled Adam, and yet Josh's calm acceptance of the fate awaiting him and the knowledge that he would reside again with his beloved mother had been a strange comfort for Adam.

And though his son wasn't with him, there were times when Darcy could make him feel as if Josh were in a room, joking with them, helping them.

In the realm of the world of the dead, however, Josh was not an old soul. And there were barriers he could not cross, forces he could not best.

Adam thought that pure malevolence was something Josh couldn't touch. He had been far too decent to know evil. Perhaps, one day, he would gain the strength to go against such a force. Not yet. He was a spirit as kind and patient as the human he had been, able to touch pain, sorrow, regret, and loneliness, simply not a lingering wall of brutality.

“Adam,” Darcy said softly. “Josh doesn't come in this room.”

Adam nodded. “If I'm frightened for you, Darcy, I'll bring you right out.”

“I trust you completely, Adam,” she told him. And he knew that she did. He reached out and squeezed her hand.

“Let's begin,” he said, and she settled back.

They were in the Lee Room together, she lying on the bed, he in the chair by the little secretary against the wall.

Adam had suggested that they work alone, quietly, without having the household around. There had been too much disruption at the seance.

“Relax, breathe. In and out, in and out. Think of cool mountain streams, the sweet sound of the trickling water. Let nothing disturb the sweetness of the moment, the absolute calm and tranquility that seep into you with every breath.” He didn't dangle chains in front of her face; he talked her into a state of calm, cleared her mind, and left it open to possibility. “Think of nothing, just feel the peace of the water, of the wind. Ease all your muscles, stretch, release, relax, and feel the air, fresh, clean, free…you'll enter a state like sleep, totally open, and let those who would speak come through, but you'll be safe, because when I say the word ‘redhead,' you will awaken with ease. Follow my voice, and listen to the breeze, the water, and let the voices enter in….”

His voice droned on. He could see the changes as Darcy entered a stage of consciousness that was neither sleep, nor wakefulness.

“There is someone here,” he said then. “Someone who
resides in this room, and perhaps roams the house upon occasion. Someone hurt, brutally hurt. I'm here to listen.”

He waited.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, he started as the phone book flew off the secretary and landed with a hard thunking noise on the floor.

A moment later, Darcy's lips moved.

“Help, God help me.”

The voice they had heard at the seance left Darcy's lips. The spirit spoke in a desperate moan through Darcy.

“We must know who you are.”

“There's danger…danger.”

A strange sound, a moaning, a keening.

“You've got to explain,” Adam said patiently.

“Afraid…”

“You mustn't be afraid.” He hesitated. “You've gone on. Nothing can hurt you now.”

“No…still here. He's still here.”

“Who? We must understand who you are, and who he is, and why he is still here. You're not the one hurting people, he is—is that right?”

“No.”

Adam was startled and silent.

Darcy was beginning to breathe harder and harder. He needed to keep talking. “Are you hurting people?”

“So…hard. So hard…to touch. I'm tired…exhausted. They won't see.”

“Are you hurting people?”

“No. Showing them, trying to show them…they don't know.”

“Are you Arabella?”

Darcy's lips began to move. She said something, but Adam didn't hear what. The door to the room flew open, and Penny was standing there.

“My God!” Penny said. “What on earth was that?”

Adam frowned fiercely, shaking his head.

“Oh!” Penny said softly, staring at Darcy, who still lay on the bed, eyes closed, breathing coming deeply, shallowly.

“She's all right?” Penny asked.

“She's fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Penny, please be quiet,” Adam said.

“Must…be careful. More than me, I'm certain. I knew…the girl. I thought…for the power, for the money,” Darcy said in the strange voice.

“Who? Please, you've got to be more specific,” Adam prodded gently.

“Afraid…”

“You don't have to be afraid,” Adam said.

Darcy began twisting in distress.

“Adam!” Penny said.

Another voice interrupted them from the hallway. “Hey, what the hell?”

Clint had come up the stairs, and was standing behind Penny.

Adam kept his voice low, his tone even. “I need you two to either go away, or stand there silently.”

“But—” Clint began.

Adam waved a hand at him and Penny, trying to shoo them away. Darcy was becoming more and more mired in the emotions that had once raged her, but Adam was certain that they were very close to a breakthrough, and he didn't want to break the tenuous thread that was connecting them to the spirit.

“She's…she doesn't look well!” Clint said, deeply concerned. “You should stop.”

“We will,” Adam said calmly. He stared at Clint. “When I'm ready.”

Clint was unhappy, and uncomfortable, but he locked his jaw and was silent.

Darcy murmured something low.

“I can't hear you,” Adam said, rising, and going to sit on the bedside.