Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted (23 page)

Matt hung up the phone, groaned, and put his head down on his
desk.

Naturally, Shirley chose that moment to tap, and walk into his
office.

"Matt?" she cried with concern.

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
recreate 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
council woman 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 tog 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.

_______ 11____

This 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 Stoneyville,
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
blase, 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.

"I can pick you up," Clint told him.

"I'll just take a cab," Carter told him.

"I don't mind coming to get you," Clint said.

Carter stared at him, smiling over clenched teeth as he tried to
make a point. "No, Clint, thanks. It's all right. I'll just grab a
cab."

"Oh. Oh!" Clint said, quickly lowering his head to hide a
smile.

Liz yawned. "I'm exhausted. But so excited! Darcy, what you do
is so incredible. Can you teach me?"

I
don't do parlor tricks!
Darcy thought.
What 1 have can
be a curse as much as a gift, and
painful as well as re
warding!

"I'm not sure I know how, Liz. It's a matter of keeping your
mind open, I believe. I'm sure you'll get there," she said aloud.
It was a lie. But there really was no truth to tell that could be
understood. She rose. "Excuse me, I think I'll go up with Adam and
take a look at the tapes."

She made a hasty retreat up the stairs.

Adam was in his guest room, the Longstreet Room. When she tapped
on the door, he bid her to enter absently. He was deeply engrossed
in the tape when she went in.

Darcy watched it with him. She listened to the voice, and the
fear in it.