Wanted: One Ghost (25 page)

Aunt Vickie waved her over. Taking a deep breath, April approached her aunt and held out her hands when she was motioned to do so. Aunt Vickie anointed her palms. Having ‘the touch,’ her palms were the high-energy contact, chakra points for her. They would be her tools. The strong combination of eucalyptus and honeysuckle
should
attract the dead! The slight tingling of the non-diluted oils bothered her, but she knew at a moment like this, the heavier the strength the better! At least she hoped. She pressed her hands together in a prayer-like stance, heating up the oils and focusing her chakras on the atmosphere.

April understood the intricacies of what she needed to do. She needed to be open to the live energy, not only her own but also the energy her ghost would manifest from. Still, she tried to grasp her own sense of power and accept it slowly without letting it overwhelm her. She hadn’t been this involved in a situation since she’d presented her oral thesis to the history department. Hey, if she could face down four of the top history professors in the country and survive without puking, crying, or passing out, she could take on a ghost.

James’s hands rested lightly on her shoulders, giving her additional support. His comfort and personal energy brought her strength. Praying what they were about to endure would help solve all their questions, April was ready to proceed.

“James,” her aunt spoke softly from the floor, “I will need you to monitor all activity in real time. I’m not sure if you will be able to see or hear what we are going through, so keep in mind how we are being affected by what we witness. Especially April and Virginia—April more so since she’s going to be viewing the past and possibly phasing into it. April, you let James know immediately if you are in danger, if you can.”

April turned to James. She was about to discount the idea, but the dark look he gave her made her nod in response.

James looked her deep in the eyes. “I want you out of there if Henry shows up. He’s capable of anything.”

The possibility of encountering a vengeful Henry Samuel at any moment of their séance hung between them. April gave him a subtle nod.

“Let us begin,” Aunt Vickie chanted on an exhaled breath.

Finding an object of history for a conduit to her natural psychometry was easy. Catherine’s writing desk was a piece of the woman’s past. April could make immediate contact with it and prepared herself for the burning sensation to race through her. The shock always frightened her at first. Still, she held onto the desk, focusing her energy on it, to channel the past, as she did with various pieces of artifacts in her studies.

April picked up her mother’s voice coming into play, bringing forth Catherine’s gentle spirit, as she stayed focused on the desk’s natural history. Soon, April felt the calming presence of the past before the atmosphere became charged with the exchange of energies. Her hand stuck to the desk, keeping her in the moment. The temperature around her suddenly dropped.

“Catherine, are you here?” her mother’s voice asked softly, calling out to their host. It sounded muted though, as if coming from far away.

The powerful scent of lilac and a shimmer of unearthly light glowed beside the window and manifested into the familiar shape of the young woman. This time she was attired as the mistress of the house. Her hair coiffed perfectly and her wardrobe consisted of a day dress. She looked to April beseechingly.

“I’m here to help you. But I need answers,” April said desperately as time was always an issue.

She didn’t expect to hear anything from the woman, but her mother’s voice echoed in the recesses of her mind, only moments after Catherine’s mouth formed words and thoughts she wouldn’t have been able to hear otherwise.

“He’s in trouble and it is my fault. I need to go to him!” Her mother’s frantic words echoed the thoughts and emotions of their ghost.

“Who is in trouble? Is it James? What did you do?”

Catherine only looked confused and shook her head sadly. “No. I need to go to him. Henry locked me in, and I can’t go to him.”

“Who? Who can’t you go to?”

“Daniel. Oh, my love! What have I done?” The ghost paced, frantically wringing her hands and toying with a mass of chains and keys attached to her apron. She turned on April, desperate and eager. “I must stop him. He’ll kill Daniel like he killed Mr. Addison! It’s my fault.”

Daniel! Of course! It all made sense. James had told her Catherine used to come out to pick up her own milled flour and drop off scones. Then he would send Daniel to escort her back to town. Catherine was having an affair with Daniel, not James!

Catherine buried her face in her hands and wept. The sound was so familiar now. April wanted to comfort the woman but couldn’t because of her connection to the desk.

“Catherine, help me,” April pleaded with her ghostly friend. “Did James commit treason? Was he executed justly?”

“I did it. It was my fault. Henry thought…me…Mr. Addison.”

“He thought you and Mr. Addison…what? That you had an affair?” She smiled knowingly at Catherine. “It wasn’t James. It was Daniel you were in love with.”

“My journal. It’s all in my journal.” Catherine came rushing toward her, grabbing for the chatelaine dangling from her waist. It held the key to unlock the desk! A journal. Of course, if Catherine kept a daily account of all activities, it would contain the information April needed.

Catherine raced towards the desk, eager to get to her journal inside, and her spiritual form merged with April’s. An icy chill enveloped her body but she had little time to regain her own senses when a slam of the door caught her off guard. Henry Samuel stood in solid form before her. He grabbed her harshly, his beefy hand encasing her jaw with a vise-like force. This wasn’t a ghostly presence. She was in his time, like at the tree.

“You were spying on me and Peter Hyman downstairs earlier! You think you can stop me?” His face grew closer, his eyes flared with beady hate. “I want that mill, Catherine! The land should’ve been mine. I was about to purchase the land when James Addison came and took it right out from under my nose. Years of working for mere pittance for the crown and then to have my future ripped from my grasp by some royal bastard! And now, I still can’t possess it. According to Peter Hyman, Addison deeded his lands over to his foreman, Daniel Smith.”

He let go of April’s jaw and stepped away, studying Catherine. She should have taken the opportunity to let the others know Henry was here, and he had possible intentions to hurt her. But instead, she wanted to know what this scene might reveal.

“I’ll have the land, Catherine, by God. If I have to go through every man standing in my way—I will have that land!” Spittle flew from his lips as he punctuated the threat with his anger.

“No! Leave Daniel alone. He’s done nothing to you.”

April didn’t need her mother to translate. Every word was spoken through Catherine. Her heart pounded erratically with her heartbeat and Catherine’s rush of adrenaline coursed through her. What was going on? This was about to get ugly. She was a participant in a historical time loop. She was no longer viewing the proceedings like at the manor ruins. She called out for help, but her voice died in a gasp as she took in the menacing form looming before her.

Henry turned his beady eyes back on her. Acknowledgement and understanding showed in their black depths. His chest rose and fell in great heaves beneath his over-extended waistcoat. Air rasped in and out of his inflated nostrils.

Oh shit, this wasn’t going to be good!

The sharp sting of his hand crossed her face. April didn’t even have time to flinch. He’d slapped Catherine and now they were on the floor, cowering in the corner between the desk and wall.

“You whore! On familiar terms with him are you?” He grabbed a fistful of Catherine’s hair, pulling her up, right in front of his face. He shook her. “You weren’t having an affair with Addison, you were fornicating with his foreman!”

April’s feet fought for stability as she was dragged across the room. Every time she tried to get her footing she was knocked back down, her senses reeling. Henry Samuel could pack a punch with his beefy fists. She tried to call out for help, but her voice didn’t carry outside of her inner thoughts. She was Catherine Samuel in this realm.

“I’ll make you pay for your infidelities! We’re going to pay a visit to your lover, my dear wife. He’ll give me the mill or so help me God you’re going to wish you’d never thought to play me for the fool!”

“Daniel will never give up the mill. He loves that mill as much as Mr. Addison did,” Catherine spat out at her husband.

“Oh, he’ll give it up all right. I’ll kill the bastard for his adulterous nature. If I can’t have it, I’ll make damn sure no one ever will.”

Catherine struggled and cried, begging and pleading for Henry’s mercy. To leave Daniel alone. April was along for the ride, being pulled across the bedroom, fighting herself to get out of this realm. Her chest heaved from fear, adrenaline—fight or flight taking over. Was this the day Henry had killed his wife and Daniel in the cellar? Was it her punishment for being unfaithful? She had to break free of Catherine’s spiritual hold on her so she could get back to her realm. If not, would she be subjected to the same gruesome death?

The rancid breath on her face was real, a mixture of alcohol and stale tobacco, his eyes blood shot and evil as his cheeks burned with fury and hatred. His burliness was not only fat but muscle too, as his strength kept her in check. She didn’t have any leverage this time to knee him or do any damage to his shins. Internally, she fought Catherine’s fear while trying to find her own strength to defend herself against the ghost-man.

Catherine and April pelted Henry with cries and curses as he grabbed them by the upper arm and forced them toward the door. April battled against Catherine’s weakness as she fought to get away from Henry’s hold on her. How could she still be in this realm? She was no longer attached to her conduit. She should be phasing back to the present now!

She struggled and kicked out with her feet as he pulled her closer to the door. A quick backhand to the face silenced her. April felt the sting, realizing how much force the man projected. This wasn’t a ghostly form. This was a solid hit.

Oh hell, I’m not in Kansas anymore!

Before he could lead her out through the bedroom door, an outside disturbance caught her off guard. Her assailant stumbled backward as if attacked by an unseen force. April phased between the two worlds and thought she saw James shove the ghostly form of Henry before he drifted into mist.

Her aunt’s voice commanded, “Be gone!” before she passed out.

Gasping for breath and shaking, April tried to relax. Her Aunt Vickie doused her brow and hands with a cloth soaked in gardenia essence to help her recover from the emotional shock and strain to her system. Her family and James surrounded her, providing comfort as she lay on the bed in Catherine’s room, trembling.

“Calming breaths. Breathe in the essence, dear,” her grandmother’s voice soothed, as her fingers combed back her bangs from April’s face. The washcloth was placed along the nape of her neck and jawline where she still felt the pressure from Henry’s massive fingers.

“She’s going to have bruises. Look at the red marks he left,” her grandmother said.

“I’ll kill you the next time you touch her, Henry!” James’s voice echoed throughout the small room as he punched his fist through the air.

“Don’t provoke him, James. This isn’t the time,” Aunt Vickie warned.

“I’m grateful to you James.” Virginia breathed a sigh of relief and turned to April. “Between your grandmother’s ability to see where Henry was and James’s brute strength we were able to get Henry’s entity to leave.”

“Could you see me, Grams?” April asked warily.

“Not exactly. It’s more like I could sense you. Catherine is using your physical essence to try to manifest. I’m not sure if I like that or not. I don’t think she’s doing it maliciously though.”

“Maybe she’s desperate and using me is the only way she can relay her actions.” She thought for a moment. “It’s not me Henry is hurting. It’s Catherine.”

Aunt Vickie had been remote and quiet. Assessing the area with her powerful senses she backed away silently from the group. “I don’t like this. We need to get out of here. I fear there will be repercussions as soon as Henry builds up his strength again. Grab your purses, and let’s head out.”

It took them only moments to gather items they would need to leave safely. The house vibrated with energy. Static build up sparked the air, sending prickles of awareness throughout the atmosphere. Cold, icy fingers grabbed at them. April shuddered as the essence of her experience pummeled her nerves. James held her close while they waited in the foyer for the other three women. He looked around the room, eyeing every shadow with suspicion as if ready to do battle if Henry burst forth. She was afraid there would be very little Aunt Vickie and Grandma Dottie would be able to do to calm Henry the next time.

***

April had the truth now. James was not guilty of having an affair. But she didn’t have any tangible proof. The evidence would be in the journal, if the journal still resided in the antique desk. And the chatelaine would open the desk. She needed to get to Beth and see if she still had it. April shivered again and took a sip of her latte, listening to James and her family discuss mundane things, probably trying to keep their thoughts off of the incident while her head filled with the known and unknown.

The chatelaine was the only thing that had survived the destruction and death when the fire had broken out. The thought saddened her to know nothing of Catherine’s remains would ever be found to lay her soul to rest. Surely the fire and time had destroyed all evidence.

The chatelaine literally held the key to solving James’s mystery. How would she explain to Beth Freelane why she needed the rare, expensive item? Would Beth find her a total freak if she told her about her penchant for psychometry? Or was the woman more open to the idea and abilities of the metaphysical sciences? Then what? Tell her a ghost needs it to unlock her desk?

Yeah, she’d really think you were mental then, April.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, making her jump. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her as if perhaps she might have a possession going on. Lately, she wouldn’t doubt anything happening to her. A collective sigh of relief roamed the table as she produced her small clam-shell phone. But the number on the screen really caused her heart to palpitate. It was Kenneth Miles.

“Excuse me,” April stood up to leave. “I think I’ll take this call outside.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched her mother keep James at bay when he tried to follow her. It was probably for the best. She didn’t want him to hear her failure and firing from her employer.

“Hello, Mr. Miles, what can I do for you?” She tried to sound pleasant as she meandered out of the café to the street side tables.

“I wanted to call and personally congratulate you on your evidence so far. I was excited to see the photo of the document you found. It sounds like you are on the right track.”

April removed her phone from her ear and looked at it. Was this the same man? It was nice to hear a bit of praise from him and even the tenor of excitement about her findings was a nice change of pace. This was the first time he didn’t sound like a gruff old man.

“I’m close, sir. I’ve found the document showing the deed to the land James purchased right before his death on the extension of the mill. But I haven’t found the original deed. I’m still searching. I think we’re on the right track. I may have information James had given over the property to his foreman. I think we may find the actual document in files held by a prominent lawyer at the time, a Peter Hyman.”

“His foreman, Daniel Smith? James Addison spoke of him in his letters found along with his sister’s journals from the time he was living in the colonies. I do have my people looking into the documents you said James might have sent over here to his attorneys in London. I’ll let you know if they find anything.

“This is dandy! I was told you are the best. Putting my faith in you I haven’t been disappointed. You’ve given me more than anyone else has been able to. When you do find the original document, please send me a photocopy, immediately.”

“I understand your urgency in settling on the land…”

“This has gone further than just an interest in the land. Do you know the excitement of finding out about your past? Well of course you do, you’re a historian. Anyway, I’ve taken a personal interest in this case and the history behind my great-great ‘whatever’ uncle. I’ve found rather interesting information on him here in England from his sister, Elsbeth, through her journals and letters from Great-Uncle James. The man sounds like a good fellow.”

He is a ‘good fellow.’ She wished she could somehow share her news with Kenneth, to actually have them meet. April watched through the large plate glass window as James laughed and conversed with her family over tea and coffee.

“…Doctor?”

“I’m sorry. You were saying, Mr. Miles?”

“I was just thanking you for coming along so quickly in your endeavors. I’m quite impressed. Dr. Moreland was correct in suggesting you for this insurmountable task. I look forward to meeting with you soon, hopefully over a celebratory dinner?”

“Yes, of course. I would like that,” she replied softly. Would she be able to introduce the two distant relatives when he arrived? What would Kenneth Miles think when she brought along his great-great-‘whatever’ uncle with her as a guest? She laughed at the bizarre situation.

“Dr. Branford, is everything all right?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking about how I would be dining with the reclusive Kenneth Miles, and it has nothing to do with financial gain or politics,” she lied, scrambling to figure out what was so funny.

“Yes. I suppose many would find it humorous. Please, no media or paparazzi. Keep it simple. I will see you within the week. There are some issues I’m still dealing with in London, but I plan on being in Maryland in time for the final day of the festivities. I think it’s only appropriate I should be there to honor him in some fashion.”

“He would appreciate the effort, I’m sure.” She couldn’t wait to relay the information to James. What would he do with his ‘nephew’ when they met?

“Until then, Dr. Branford. Again, keep me constantly informed of any new developments.”

The subtle click of disconnect wasn’t so subtle to April’s ears. It signified the lack of time she had left to work with. Things were moving fast in reality. She had less than a week to find one piece of paper lost for two hundred thirty-eight years.

***

James didn’t have to be a mind reader to discern what weighed heavily on April’s shoulders. The phone call was inevitable. She’d feared it since their meeting. He felt at fault for her lack of progress. Spending too much time on his mystery and not focusing on her original goal jeopardized her career. But when she relayed the actual oddity of the phone call he found himself grinning.

Not at Kenneth Miles in general but at the fact Elsbeth had kept her older brother’s memory alive through her journals and letters from him. She’d been a woman-child when he’d left home, barely in corsets and with a will to match her fiery temper at times. At other times she’d been as sweet and docile as Catherine Samuel. But he never stopped loving his sweet sister. And it was good to know she had thought about him often.

“It’ll be all right, April. I promise.” James squeezed her hand gently, trying to reassure her.

“I’m fine,” she sighed, tucking her hands deeper into her woolen coat. “I’ll see if Beth has anything new for me to snoop out while you’re giving tours. I might get lucky.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet this Kenneth Miles. He’s the financial king of England and to know he’s a relative of yours, it should be interesting to see the two of you together.” Aunt Vickie raised her brow. “Perhaps he’d be interested in a woman with some eclectic tastes?”

“Your niece is already spoken for. I will not share her. Not even with a distant relative. I’ll be damned first!”

“James,” Vickie patted his hand. “I wasn’t referring to my niece. I was referring to me. I’m widowed, not dead. A man of his tastes, if he’s anything like you but older, I can handle.”

Blowing steam off of his fresh cup of tea, James snorted with disdain. “I’m very protective of my family and I will have to make sure the cad is worthy of your hand. Kenneth Miles claims to be a descendant of mine but I will still be the judge of the man’s character. I will not have some jackal take advantage of your better nature.” All four women stopped and stared at him curiously. And smiled, congratulating April on picking such a fine man to have brought to life and how he would fit in their family.

Had he just accepted this odd crew of women as his family? Aye, they were family to him, even before he spoke of bands and vows, and he would make sure no one dared to harm them, even a distant relative.

He couldn’t let the tender moment last. It was not in his nature. “Yes well, we’ll see. Besides, if he’s anything like me, I would definitely be worried.”

***

“You wanted to see me, Dr. Branford?”

Dr. Beth Freelane walked down the steps and approached April at the bottom of the landing of the Georgian townhouse. The historical house contained both the public domain, consisting of an information desk and a small selection of local history books, and the private residence of the curator for Kings Mill Historical Society. The place was still in disarray. Various boxes, totes, and crates of materials lined the narrow hallways and rooms, waiting to be moved into the new, modern facility. April wondered if any of these boxes might contain the document she was looking for.

After a few days of coming up with nothing more in the files at the house, it was time for drastic measures. She was running out of time. But how to approach Dr. Freelane and ask her for use of the chatelaine. The woman wouldn’t understand. The professional appearance and demeanor Beth possessed was of a no nonsense business woman. She was what April aspired to be, practical and professional. How could she explain what she needed to do? If Dr. Freelane kicked her out for being a psycho would James’s job be at stake?

She needed the chatelaine though. It was the only way to solve the mystery. Maybe then she could focus all her time on finding the damn deed to his property. Hopefully, Henry signed at least that one. But either way, she would have the evidence. Kenneth Miles could decide what he would do from there. She couldn’t change history, only see it.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Freelane.” April greeted her with a wan smile. Reaching into her bag, she retrieved the book Dr. Freelane wrote about the excavation. Turning to the tagged page with the picture of the chatelaine she showed it to Beth. “You mentioned finding this article in the ruins on your original dig. I was wondering if you might still have it.”