Page 16 of Ghost House


  “I knew you’d come back,” she murmured into his neck, her voice carrying all the way over to me. Even though I was filled with relief that my brother was now safe, I couldn’t help the pang that rippled through me, seeing the phantom horse with its ghost riders turn and vanish into the trees. Alex had come to my rescue but, yet again, it left me feeling utterly empty.

  Now the worst was over, Joe tucked Rory under his arm and swam back toward the boat. Mavis and May helped them back in and then rowed at manic speed to the dock. I dragged myself through the reeds and collapsed onto the grassy bank. I should have been shaking from cold, but I was too numb to feel anything. I couldn’t shake the image of Alex and Isobel. We had all escaped unharmed, so why did it feel like she’d just won another round?

  I hadn’t known Isobel for very long, but I could tell that she was relentless, the sort of person who wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted. She hadn’t stopped tormenting me from the moment I arrived. And she wasn’t about to run out of steam anytime soon. Maybe there was only one way to truly be free—leave and never look back. I dragged myself off the ground, tasting the bitterness of defeat. I’d been delusional to think I was here on a mission to unearth the secrets of Grange Hall and learn to harness my gift rather than be controlled by it. Those objectives might have driven me before, but now that the safety of my family was in jeopardy, that motivation had been extinguished.

  What just happened to Rory changed everything. The dead had power, and they couldn’t be bargained with. They lived by their own rules and were accountable to no one. Eating humble pie might not be a Kennedy trait, but maybe it was time for me to admit I’d taken on more than I could handle. I was no closer to finding answers, and maybe it was time to stop looking. Maybe this place would always belong to the dead.

  Mavis and May tethered the boat to an old gray post and we all rallied around Rory.

  “Hold up. Give him a chance to catch his breath,” Joe urged, ushering back the sisters to give my ashen-faced brother some room. I knelt beside Rory and held his head while he coughed up water. He was shivering violently.

  “We need to get back to the house,” Mavis said, stating the obvious.

  “As quickly as possible,” May concurred.

  I looked around at the rapidly fading light and was forced to agree. If we didn’t move soon, we’d be stumbling our way back in the dark. But it was more than the fading light that was making the women anxious. They might not be the best ghost whisperers in town, but they knew when something sinister was at work.

  Rory’s teeth were chattering so loudly, they sounded like castanets. Joe managed to liberate him from the waterlogged parka, tossing it over a log. He ignored the lancing cold that must have been cutting through him.

  “Do you think you can walk?” Joe asked.

  Rory managed a nod. We helped him to his feet, supporting him on either side. Purplish shadows ringed his big brown eyes, and he reminded me of a defenseless fawn cornered by a predator he didn’t recognize.

  The sisters surprised me with their agility. They sped ahead so that by the time we reached Grange Hall, Harry and Gran had already been alerted to the situation. They were waiting for us at the bottom of the front steps, worry etched all over their faces. Harry bundled Rory in a thick wool blanket as Gran ushered him inside. Miss Grimes scurried past us like a field mouse in her perennial black, running a hot bath and searching for clean pajamas. I felt terrible thinking it, but I was glad to hand the responsibility for Rory over to someone else. This was all too much for me.

  After Grandma Fee ordered Rory to bed with a bowl of hot soup and a grilled-cheese sandwich, she called the rest of us into the kitchen so we could have a little talk without being overheard. We all filed in like errant children into the principal’s office.

  “All right.” She folded her arms and looked at each of us in turn. “Which one of you would care to explain just what happened out there?”

  “It all happened so fast,” I said, but Gran was having none of that.

  “Chloe, I’m on the verge of calling your father. I just need the facts first.”

  “Why not leave Dad out of this?” I suggested with a sigh. “What would you tell him anyway?”

  “I don’t know, as I wasn’t actually there. Perhaps someone would be kind enough to enlighten me?”

  I exchanged glances with Mavis and May. Our eyes locked for only a second, but it was long enough for me to see they knew what we’d been up against. It was also long enough for us to reach a tacit agreement. There was nothing we could offer Grandma Fee that would make her feel better. She was looking for something she could grab hold of, a formula to explain the inexplicable. We couldn’t give her that, so nobody said a word. Gran pursed her lips. “Really? None of you has anything to say?”

  I scratched my head and feigned a look of confusion. “I think they lost control of the boat.”

  “Chloe,” she said sternly. “There hasn’t been a single boating accident during the whole time Grange Hall has been in operation. Now my grandson nearly drowns, and that’s all you have to say?”

  “We’re so sorry, Mrs. Kennedy,” Joe said. “He was in the boat one minute and in the water the next.”

  I could see what Joe was doing, sticking to the bare, incontrovertible facts. That was what Gran had asked for. The sisters nodded in confirmation of Joe’s story.

  “He must have been doing something silly,” Gran pressed. “Like standing up or rocking the boat.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “Something pulled me under,” said a small voice from the doorway. We all turned to see Rory, who had crept downstairs. He stood in his flannel pajamas looking so earnest, it was hard not to believe him.

  “Rory!” I jumped in as quickly as I could. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. If there’s something you need, I’ll get it for you.”

  “Wait!” Grandma Fee put a silencing hand on my shoulder. “What did you just say, Rory? What do you mean something pulled you in?”

  “He probably has a fever.” I tried to brush it off.

  “No,” my brother protested. “It’s the truth.” Gran stared at him, speechless.

  “What he means is that a freak current sprang up out of nowhere,” Mavis interrupted. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “In our little lake?” Gran looked dubious. “That would have to be some current. Is that what it felt like to you, Rory?”

  “Nope.” Rory shook his head adamantly. “I told you…something grabbed me.”

  He held up his wrist, and we all leaned in to see angry red blotches like rope burns across his pale skin. Grandma Fee snatched up his hand.

  “What in the world…?”

  “He probably just scraped it trying to get back in the boat,” I said desperately, flashing my brother a look that said For the love of God, shut up. There was no way of telling Gran the truth without opening a Pandora’s box.

  Rory looked a sorry sight. His fluffy hair, sticking upright, made him look like a sad, underweight teddy bear.

  May made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Poor little dear, he’s had quite a shock.”

  “It wanted to kill me… .” Rory mumbled.

  “Honestly, I have no clue what happened out there,” Joe said, turning to my grandmother. “But maybe the first thing would be to get Rory checked out by a doctor?”

  It was the right thing to say, because it spurred Gran into action. “You’re right, Joe. I’ll call Dr. Garland right away. Chloe, take your brother back to bed.”

  She bustled out of the room. I tucked Rory under my arm, and he looked up with eyes like orbs.

  “I’m not lying,” he said meekly. “There really was something in the water. What if it comes back and tries to get me again?”

  I blinked away the tears that sprang into my
eyes and gave a smile so forced I thought my face might crack.

  “There’s nothing here that can hurt you. I promise,” I said, even though it was an assurance I was in no position to give. “In the meantime, stay away from the lake, okay?”

  “Okay,” Rory agreed. “Can I have some pizza now?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Dr. Garland wanted Rory’s breathing monitored overnight, so I took the first shift and stayed up watching until he fell asleep. Exhausted by the ordeal, he didn’t take long. There was a tiny crease between his brows, as if he was trying to figure out a math problem in his dreams. I went back to my bedroom as soon as I heard Gran coming down the hall to relieve me, but not before pocketing the bottle of pills Dr. Garland had left behind in case Rory needed them to sleep. He wasn’t the only one with anxiety tonight.

  It turned out I was the one too shaken to rest. My body was beat, but the wheels in my head refused to stop spinning. I pulled the bottle out of my pocket, unscrewed its safety cap and shook a small blue pill into the palm of my hand. It looked harmless enough.

  “Just this once,” I told myself and tossed it back with a glass of water.

  I waited a few minutes, but didn’t feel any different. I decided they must be weak and gulped down another. Ten minutes later, I could barely keep my eyes open. My thoughts were slipping and sliding around in my head, falling out before I had a chance to catch them. I heard a soft tap at my bedroom door, and a minute later, I was conscious of someone leaning over me. When I opened my eyes I was looking into a pair of limpid green eyes like saucers, so clear and innocent they could have belonged to a child.

  “Hey, Joe,” I mumbled.

  “Hey, Chloe,” he replied. “Just wanted to say good-night and make sure you’re okay.”

  “You know you have eyes like a dragon,” I answered.

  “What?”

  “It’s a good thing. Dragons are our friends.”

  Joe glanced at the bottle of pills on my nightstand. “Right. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yes,” I said happily, snuggling under the covers. “My head is full of empty bottles of wine.”

  Joe picked up the tablets. “How many of these did you take?”

  “Just two,” I said, hearing myself slur my words.

  “I’m assuming you don’t take medication often?”

  I stretched, locking my hands above my head. “Not unless it’s vegan!”

  Joe smothered a smile. “All right.” He tucked the duvet around me. “I’m going to let you rest now.”

  “I can see your colors.” I winked at him whilst waving a hand in front of his face. “All your colors, like a rainbow.”

  He took my hand and gently guided it back under the covers. Then he sat down beside me, his eyes looking like prisms of light. I felt like I was in a hot-air balloon and he was lifting me up with his presence. I really could see colors radiating from him, spilling in all directions, like an explosion of pastel paint. It made me feel happy. And I hadn’t felt happy in a long time.

  “I can see your colors, too, Chloe,” Joe replied. “They’re very bright.”

  “Are you sure?” I murmured. “Are you sure I’m not full of darkness?”

  “No.” He slid down beside me. He closed his eyes, and somehow, I felt I could trust him implicitly. “The darkness doesn’t control you. Remember that.”

  “Okay,” I replied sleepily.

  Joe hesitated a moment. “Now may not be the right time to bring this up…but who’s Alex?”

  “What?” I felt a little bolt of panic run through me.

  “Today by the lake,” Joe pressed on. “You asked someone named Alex to help us. Who is that?”

  I stayed silent. There was really no acceptable answer to that question.

  “He’s a ghost, isn’t he?”

  I would never have admitted it under normal circumstances but Joe had caught me with my guard down.

  “Yep,” I whispered. “He sure is.”

  “I see.” Joe’s tone was impossible to read.

  “You remind me of him,” I said with a sigh. “With one little difference, of course—you’re alive!”

  Joe frowned. There must have been a hundred questions he could have fired off at this point, but he didn’t.

  “I don’t want to remind you of someone,” he said eventually. “When you look at me, I want you to see me, not a shadow of someone else.”

  Somehow, his words made perfect sense in that moment. “Don’t lose your rainbow, Joe,” I said. “Promise you won’t?”

  “I promise.”

  * * *

  By the time I woke up, it was nine in the morning, which meant I’d slept for twelve hours straight. Joe was long gone. Thankfully, the pills had worn off, but I still vaguely remembered snippets of our conversation. I rolled over and groaned. How would I ever be able to face him again? I cringed as I remembered ranting on about rainbows, but I knew that wasn’t the worst of it. I’d told him about Alex, and that wasn’t something I could just laugh off or take back.

  I was busy trying to think of a rational way to explain myself when I heard a light tap at the door.

  “Hello?” I called out cautiously. The door opened a crack and Mavis’s childlike face appeared.

  “Is it okay if we come in? We’d never dream of intruding like this, but after yesterday there’s something we want to talk to you about.”

  Technically, they weren’t even supposed to be up here, but I guessed what had happened had broken down some barriers. I waved them in. I was curious to hear what they had to say. They stood awkwardly before speaking. May came right out with it.

  “She’s more powerful than we thought,” she said bluntly. I frowned and rubbed my eyes. Had I heard that right?

  “Excuse me?”

  “There’s no need to keep up the charade, Chloe. We know you can see her.”

  That woke me up well and truly. I opened my mouth to protest, but it seemed pointless to deny what they already knew. Part of me was secretly relieved to finally have someone to confide in.

  “How long have you guys known?”

  “From the day we first met you,” said Mavis, as if the answer was obvious.

  “What? How?”

  “The EMF was going crazy. At first we thought there was something haunting the dining hall. Then we realized…it was reacting to you.”

  “Well, that makes no sense,” I objected. “I’m not a ghost.”

  “No, but supernatural energy surrounds you,” May explained. “You reek of it, so to speak.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re half in, half out,” said Mavis. “You’re caught between this world and theirs.”

  “Are you trying to say I’m half-dead?” I demanded. Part of me thought I had to be dreaming this conversation.

  “Of course not.” May pressed her lips together. “But you need to tread carefully, my dear. It’s a fine line.”

  “Don’t frighten the girl!” Mavis flapped her hands. “We have bigger problems to deal with.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t like where this was headed. “What do you mean we?” I asked suspiciously. Looking back on it, the question was redundant; the threat that loomed affected all of us now.

  “We knew the spirit was unpredictable.” May shook her head sadly. “But we never expected things to get so out of control.”

  “Wait, how much do you know about Isobel Reade?”

  “Ah, we suspected it was her! We know very little—only what we’ve been able to access through village archives. But we’ve known about her presence here for quite some time.”

  I could barely process this information. The supernatural world was not one to tamper with. What if the Hunt sisters w
ere just messing around with psychic toys they’d bought on eBay? What if they had no idea what they were actually doing? But then again, what if they did? Maybe if we joined forces they could help me rid Grange Hall of Isobel’s malevolent presence once and for all. For the first time in my life, I had potential allies, only I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

  “So have you seen her or not?”

  “No, but you have.” May folded her hands. “And that’s all that counts.”

  I let out a long, whistling breath. “I didn’t think anyone would believe me. So I’ve never told the truth, except to my mom.”

  “There are times when the truth does more damage than good.” Mavis smiled. “But we may have an idea.”

  “To get rid of Isobel?” I asked eagerly.

  “We can’t get rid of her, dear.” May enunciated each word as if I were hard of hearing. “But we might be able to slow her down. Show her who’s boss, so to speak. Let’s meet back here at midnight.”

  “Hold on!” They hadn’t explained anything. “What’s the idea?”

  “We’re just conducting a little experiment. This spirit has to be handled carefully. It’s volatile… . It went after your brother today and drowned that little boy in 1961.”

  My mind flashed back to the article. I remembered it in perfect detail.

  “I haven’t forgotten. Why did they call Grange Hall a Women’s Home?” I asked.

  “Because your grandmother’s home wasn’t always a bed-and-breakfast,” Mavis replied. “After World War II it was bought by the Anglican Church and turned into a home for unwed mothers.”