Authors: Loni Lynne
Her grandmother looked to Aunt Vickie. “You explain it, Vickie. You have more knowledge on the intricacies of live energy.”
Aunt Vickie thought for a moment, swallowing her bite of chip and salsa and washing it down with a margarita. “Ghosts exist in a realm of their own time. Take James, for instance. He was in a specific space of time for two-hundred thirty-eight years where he couldn’t interact with others. Don’t ask me why. I don’t think anyone knows. It might have something to do with exact times of death.” She waved the thought away, trying to focus on the topic at hand.
“But when ghosts come into contact with high levels of live energy, they soak it up and use it to manifest, either into a higher level of consciousness and physical awareness or…possibly back to life.” She motioned to James.
Up to this point, April wasn’t aware of anything she’d done. Everything, touching the manor walls, taking etchings of tombstones, they were a part of what she’d always done in her research. But what Aunt Vickie told her made sense. How could she have known just a simple touch, something she’d done all of her life, would turn history upside down?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d done anything wrong.” April slumped smaller into the booth as she shredded her chicken finger into stringy bits. “But why now? What is so special about this point in time where I’m suddenly making ghosts come to life and phasing into history? I just don’t understand.”
“I, for one, am glad you didn’t know what you were doing at the time,” James piped up, giving her a reassuring smile. His hand rested warmly on her thigh, caressing and giving her his blessing.
Grandma Dottie glared warily at her. “Yes, well—we take the good with the bad. Unfortunately the bad is really bad since we don’t understand the entity we’re dealing with or the world they reside in. Because many don’t have a social conscience any more, they play by their own rules.”
Aunt Vickie nudged her sister. “Dottie, give the girl a break. We were given our entire life to understand our gifts. She’s only had a week. I remember you playing tag with childhood ghosts when company came over. Mom would sigh and explain you had imaginary friends to people who questioned your behavior. You blamed them for small incidents, like breaking Mom’s favorite vase.”
“This is different! Henry doesn’t give a damn about vases and playing practical jokes. He’s angry. My guess is he did something he doesn’t want the history books to know about and April is getting too close to the truth.”
Her mother sighed heavily, shaking her head and wiping her face with her napkin. “This is why I had to slap your hands every time you went into a museum, April. You were compelled to touch objects from the past no matter what significance they had. Now do you understand why I was a basket case?”
Aunt Vickie cut into a mozzarella stick and dipped it in the marinara sauce. “Virginia, you had no more idea of her ability than she did. None of us knew what to expect from April,” Aunt Vickie defended her against her mother. “Well, now we know. Unfortunately this whole situation is not good since none of us really know what we are dealing with.”
April took a healthy sip of her margarita. It was going to take more than alcohol to calm her nerves. The three women had peppered her with questions since Aunt Vickie came home shortly after the incident and they were still at it. The questions had stopped briefly when they picked James up from the Historical Society, but he’d wanted to know what was going on when the silence in the car finally grew awkward. After filling him in, the questions started all over again.
Embarrassment and frustration ate through her gut. She hadn’t done anything intentionally. All she was trying to do was her job. How was she to know her gift would get in the way—now of all times! But it was nothing she could control. Suddenly her life seemed to be going in a direction guided by something or someone else. Her episode with Henry’s grave had led to finding out about James, which led her to his grave and bringing him to life. Would she change what she’d done?
She glanced over to see James biting into a jalapeno popper. He was trying to figure out how to bite off the string of melted cheese inside in a delicate manner. The hot, stringy mass broke off between his teeth and landed on his hand. Dropping the popper onto the plate, he tried to wash down the heat scorching his tongue and making his eyes water with his lager. April fought back a smile and lost. No, she wouldn’t change a moment of time.
“It’s a bit spicy,” James whispered as he regained his ability to speak.
Grandma Dottie shook her head with mirth and continued on with their situation at hand. “When I saw the whole ghostly encounter today I was able to catch glimpses of what Henry was dealing with. He was frightened upon seeing his death take place. I watched him staring up at the top of the stairs from where he’d fallen with a look of fear. I think his entity is trying to comprehend his death, like James must have the first time you witnessed your death scene. He was content in his afterlife until he was forced back into a realm he doesn’t understand. Now he’s angry about not knowing how or why he died.”
“So what does he want?” Aunt Vickie asked, sipping her margarita.
“Justice, whatever that means,” Grandma Dottie replied.
James scoffed. His face flushed as his lips thinned out. “You tell the bloody bastard to bring it on! He wants justice? I’ll give him a piece of my justice.” James punctuated every phrase with his finger poking violently into the hard wood of the table. He looked around and lowered his voice.
“I don’t think he knows you are here, James. It’s probably better if he doesn’t. Still, I got the feeling he didn’t like seeing the paperwork spread out on the table either. He threw the tantrum and sent the energy vortex. I would have a care around him, April. He knows what you are up to. But he’s not only angry about that, more, he wants revenge on whoever shoved him down the stairs,” Grandma Dottie continued.
“Could it have been an accident??” April asked. She sat back in the booth, trying to comprehend everything. “He could have tripped and fallen.”
“No, from the look on his face, he was terrified when he looked up the stairs, as if seeing someone unexpectedly.” Grandma Dottie reached across the table and took her hand. “You need to take it easy, April. I don’t know what we are truly dealing with around Henry Samuel. You will not be left alone at all. I don’t want you near his tombstone or anywhere else Henry might manifest from.”
“I need to solve this case, Grams. Everything happened because of me. If I have to face Henry Samuel to get to the bottom of James’s death and to find out the truth on his property then I will just get it over with. Henry will just have to deal. James is relying on me…”
James stopped her with an adamant shake of his head. “Not at the risk of your life or health. I won’t let you do this unless you are positive you’ll be safe.”
“Your future is at stake. My future is at stake. I’m supposed to have something positive to report to Kenneth Miles.” April threw her hands up in frustration.
“Kenneth Miles can go to the devil for all I care! If he’s so damn rich, he can buy something else. No job is worth your life, April. We’ll be fine as long as you promise to stay away from Henry. If he can have me killed, I’m afraid of what he may do to you.”
Aunt Vickie held up her hand for calm. “There’s no need for anything to be changed right now. April is right. The best thing is to continue solving this case. Otherwise if we walk away now, having brought forth all the spirits, we could leave a mess no one can handle. April, Virginia, you’ve both been in contact with Catherine, right?” she asked.
“I can only see her. I can’t hear her,” April commented with a bit of frustration.
Her mother piped up, sharing a smile with April. “But I can hear her. Between the two of us, we’ll be able to communicate.”
Her mother was willing to face her fear to help her? April couldn’t help but feel as if a possible bond was forming between them after years of silent animosity. The one thing tearing them apart was now going to bring them closer together. Remembering her confession the other night made this moment extra special. The pause of shocked silence from her grandmother and aunt made sharing a smile with her mother really special. It was their secret.
“Really, Virginia? Are you ready to focus on communicating with a ghost?” her aunt asked.
“She did pretty well with her focus and separation today out at Lilac Grove.” Grandma Dottie beamed proudly. “I think she can. If she’s ready.”
April knew it would be difficult for her mother and didn’t want to put any undue stress on her. Her mom’s offer of assistance really was a first step in acceptance. “Mom, I don’t want you to do this if you’re not comfortable. I can find another way. I can rent the electric voice phenomenon recorder over at the ghost tour shop. I can use it to communicate with Catherine.”
“April, you wouldn’t be able to get a clear understanding of what she’s trying to say. You would have to ask direct yes or no questions for her to respond to. EVP recorders are good for finding out if there is an entity present, but we already know she’s there. No, I recommend we communicate with Catherine directly.”
“But if Henry is being an ass—he won’t let us anywhere in the house again,” James commented.
“Leave that to me,” Aunt Vickie said finishing off a buffalo wing and wiping her fingers. “He wants to fight—I’ve been known to kick a few balls in my time. Ghost or no, he’s never dealt with Victoria Snyder. I don’t care if it was his house. It’s mine now.”
April noticed James squirming in the booth at the mention of having balls kicked. She could tell he didn’t wish the injury on anyone, friend or foe. “It’s all right, James. It’s just a figure of speech. She’s not going to kick him in the balls.”
James was thankful they weren’t returning to the house tonight. Not with an insane ghost lurking. Vickie insisted on purchasing two suites at a local inn, making sure he and April had their own room. They had all spent the better part of an hour going over how they were going to try and make contact with Catherine and what they would do if Henry came along, too. Actually, James didn’t want to let any of these women deal with Henry on their own, or collectively. He just didn’t know how to stop them without getting kicked in the testicles himself if he tried to get in their way.
“I forgot,” April gasped as she readied herself for the night.
James let her borrow his colonial shirt to wear for bed and it hung off of her, dwarfing her small, delicate frame in white muslin. She looked so damn cute. She’d untied her braid and her auburn hair cascaded around her like a flowing cape. James lost himself in viewing her sitting on her knees in the middle of the bed, looking so sensual. One creamy shoulder became exposed as the material slipped down, off of her arm.
“What’s wrong?” He smiled, taking a cautious sip from the cola April retrieved from the nearby soda machine for him. He still wasn’t quiet used to the fizzy concoction, but he liked the taste.
“I forgot I was going to stop in and see Beth about the chatelaine she found in the excavation. I think it might have been Catherine’s.” April tapped her finger against her lips. Her eyes took on a faraway look as if deep in thought.
“Chatelaine?” What the hell was a chatelaine? He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“They weren’t called chatelaines in your time. A woman kept small instruments attached to a brooch or pinned on her ladies aprons. Usually keys to the house or pantries, sewing needles…”
He didn’t want to talk about keys, or ladies aprons, or ghosts. Truthfully, he could care less. He placed his soda on the side table and sat down next to her on the bed. Damn but she was fetching in his shirt! He tugged at the criss-crossing laces at the collar.
“You mean those keys Catherine had dangling from her apron strings? I used to tease her and call her
Henry’s Keeper.
I should get a chatelaine for you because you hold the key to my heart.”
“You are a smooth talker, James Addison.” April smiled teasingly. She sat on her knees, the length of his shirt hiding her thighs. “How many women have fallen for that line?”
“None so far.”
April cocked a brow. “How many times have you used it?”
“In which lifetime?” James asked as he began stalking her across the large bed on his hands and knees. He was feeling animalistic tonight. They hadn’t followed through with their session last night but he was more than ready tonight. No ghosts, no papers, nothing but her naked beneath him.
April backed up warily towards the pillows at his approach, her green eyes wide with coyness. He was a fierce wolf, stalking his mate. He growled, low in his throat.
“Both,” she whispered on a gasp as he slid his hands up under his shirt.
Dear God, she wasn’t wearing any drawers!
He groaned inwardly
.
“Once. Just now.” James’s mouth came down on hers as his hands removed the linen from her body. This bed would be their mating ground for the night.
***
Going back to Aunt Vickie’s was their first item on the morning agenda. The women felt more secure going into the house with a man’s presence, even though James couldn’t do much to help.
Vickie took it upon herself to cautiously check inside. After what seemed like forever she emerged saying the coast was clear. She placed a protective spell on the immediate area but couldn’t promise how long it might last if Henry showed up again.
April gathered the notes and documents scattered about the main floor of the house. James grabbed a pair of latex gloves and tried to help her organize them into some order but he could tell she was still a bit on edge after yesterday.
“Did you find out anything more?” James asked, trying to get her to focus on her job.
Lowering her voice, April looked around. “Nothing much. I did notice a pattern though of the land Henry was buying up.” She retrieved the wrinkled map still dangling half off the dining room table. “I wanted to ask if you might have known why he was so interested in purchasing all this land around your mill site.”
“I’m not sure.” He moved closer to where she had carefully spread it on the floor. “I was thinking yesterday about the deeds he purchased. I remember talking with him once, early on when I first came over to the colonies, about how valuable the land I purchased was. The water rights, fertile land near the base of the mountains.” James sighed, holding his head as the truth hit him. “I may have bought it not realizing his intent. I didn’t think anything about it. He made mention years later he’d been thinking about purchasing the land himself.”
“Why hadn’t he?”
James shrugged. “Any number of reasons I suppose. Maybe he didn’t have enough collateral at the time. Henry Samuel wasn’t from a wealthy English family. He worked his way up and was hoping for a seat in the House of Commons upon his return to England or a title. He—catered to everyone who could put a good word in for him. He’d tried to get in good with Lord Calvert, but he didn’t care for Samuel. At one of his socials when I first came over from England, I remember his lordship mentioning how he just didn’t trust the man.”
James shook his head. “I don’t know why I didn’t see Henry for what he was when I was alive. Perhaps I was too trusting of a man. He gave me no need to doubt his abilities as a local official. We had many of the same peers. As the unrest broke out among the colonies, we Loyalists stuck together.”
April laughed. “I keep forgetting you were ‘one of them.’”
“Yes, well—there’s always good and bad among both sides in a battle. I didn’t want to stay neutral but I knew eventually I would have to either head back to England or take up a post as a commander in the British Army.”
“What would you have done with your land?”
“Daniel was in line for over-seeing my properties. I’d already discussed the possibility of having to leave if the skirmish took a turn for the worse and wanted him to have the lands and manor house. He was a good man, like a younger brother to me. I miss him terribly at times.
“I remember taking Daniel out to the tavern one night. The man couldn’t hold his ale. He was as sick as a mongrel dog. I took over in the mill the next morning and let him sleep. He may not have been able to drink worth a damn, but Daniel wouldn’t have let anything happen to the mill if he could have helped it.”
April studied James when he turned quiet. A sad, melancholy lingered over him.
“I think he was sweet on a girl in town. Maybe they settled down and had a long, happy life together,” James said.
“I’m sure they did.” Trying to look busy, April fought to hide her thoughts. A part of her somehow knew Daniel hadn’t settled down with his girl.
But James saw through her. “You’re thinking the man in the cellar with Catherine could have been Daniel. Aren’t you? Don’t think I haven’t thought of the possibility. I guess I just don’t want to accept it.”
She squeezed his free hand. “I don’t know any more than you do, James. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. All I hope for is that he is at peace wherever he is.”
James nodded, and together they finished sorting and compiling the documents littering the room.
***
“April, it’s time. Your grandmother thinks this is the best opportunity to try and get across to Catherine. We need to work fast. She’s not sure how much longer she and Aunt Vickie can hold off Henry’s ghost.” Her mother walked into the room, trepidation in her stance.
“Mom, if you’re not ready…”
“Honey, if I don’t do this now, I never will. Am I scared? Hell yeah—but having seen what you can accomplish and knowing what you are going through is twice as difficult. I’m pretty sure I can handle listening to a couple of ghosts and try to sort through their chaotic thoughts.”
April studied her mother. Somehow she wasn’t the same up-tight, non-emotional woman she’d known all her life. With a chink in her protective armor now, she was willing to pick up a sword and do battle the best she could. April threw a subtle smile her way as her mother approached James. He stood and was ready to go with them upstairs.
“I want to apologize to you, James,” her mother started sheepishly. “I’ve had a harsh relationship with ghosts in the past, always hating them for what they mean to me. Well, not so much hating—but fearing. Yes, I have a fear of ghosts and considering my association with them, whether or not I want it—well, I guess it’s time to start realizing they are people too…or were…or whatever. Oh, hell.” Sighing, her mother gave James a quick, unprofessional hug. “I’m rambling.”
James returned the hug, a bit awkwardly. “Yes, well…I’m honored, Virginia. I will do whatever I can to not give you reason to doubt ghosts anymore—at least this one.”
“I know.” Her mother smiled weakly again and turned quickly away, adjusting the cuffs on her sleeves as if it was the most important thing she had to do.
April tried hard to suppress her grin. Her mother was trying to compose herself after such a show of emotion. Virginia Branford was not a woman to give in or surrender to anyone. And yet, here she was, trying to make past amends to a man who had been a ghost. Would wonders never cease?
“Whenever you are ready, April, but make it quick, your grandmother is upstairs getting antsy.”
April watched her mother retreat up the stairs with her demeanor once again intact. Like the proverbial knight preparing for battle, her mother was trying to find the armor and weapons within herself, so she could forge into the unknown.
James reached for April’s hand, pulling her close. They were at a moment of time where anything could happen. Parts of history could be revealed, his history. They could be moments closer to the truth. April had rehearsed in her head what she wanted to ask Catherine since early this morning. Now was the time to put all the questions to work and hopefully find the right answers.
“April, I meant what I said last night at supper. I don’t want you to risk yourself for me. In reality I shouldn’t even be here. My eternal rest isn’t worth your safety and well-being, nothing is. You are so precious to me.”
The sincerity in James’s eyes told her if she walked away right now from everything, he wouldn’t fault her one bit. But she couldn’t. Not because she had anything to prove, and not because of her duty to Kenneth Miles or anyone, but because she knew this was where she was meant to be. Her gift had been finally revealed to her. Life had prepared her for this one moment in time. She leaned into him and kissed him soundly. “I need to do this,” she said, tugging at the front of his shirt. “Let’s go kick some ghostly ass!”
***
The atmosphere hung heavy with tension and the scent of eucalyptus and honeysuckle oils. Grandma Dottie, her mother, and Aunt Vickie all reeked of the scents, enhancing their psychometric powers and intuition for the task about to be performed. Two strong points needed in their endeavors if they were going to be successful in contacting Catherine.
The shades were drawn closed against the afternoon light. April didn’t have to possess her aunt’s psychic gifts to sense the spiritual energy around them. Her muscles bunched tightly beneath her long-sleeved t-shirt, as she waited for the unexpected to jump up and bite her in the ass.
Her grandmother sat quietly on the floor in the corner of Catherine’s bedroom dressed in a loose caftan of vivid purples and pinks. Something reminiscent of the 60’s and 70’s. It looked comfortable enough for her to be able to maneuver in ritualistic movements. April’s muscles loosened a fraction. She had the support and guidance of those she loved around her. She could do this.
Once again her mother sat in the middle of the high, four-poster bed, legs crossed and arms out, resting on her knees. She was taking the deep, cleansing breaths Aunt Vickie had taught her to use in preparing her mind and body for accepting and focusing on her phantasms.