She was about to go to the kitchen when Alice came sauntering down the hall. “No luck with the lights?”
Fin shook his head. “Looks like a power line might be down somewhere.”
“Do you have your cell?” Elizabeth asked.
Alice pulled it from her blouse. The way Fin glanced down and away made Elizabeth think he was blushing.
She took Alice’s phone and punched in Lee’s number, but the call didn’t go through. Could a cell tower be down too? What would be the likelihood of that? “It’s not working.”
Fin ran a hand over his hair, then glanced at Alice, eyes wide. “Are the gates open?”
Alice shook her head. “No. Once the servers left, I shut the gate.”
“The servers left?”
“Yes, minus a couple who stayed to help me clear the table and clean up.” She peered up and down the hall, looking for them. “They’re around here somewhere.”
“The gates are run on electricity.” Fin brought the conversation back on topic as he pushed his suit coat back at his waist and rested his hands on his hips. “We’re stuck here until the power comes back on.”
“I’m sure it’ll be back on soon. No need to worry.” Alice patted Fin’s arm. “I’ll go upstairs and get some flashlights.” Gathering the hem of her dress, she headed off.
Fin shot Elizabeth a glance, brows furrowed and lips down-turned. He wasn’t pleased with this turn of events either.
She nodded, then headed for the dining room.
The dulcet tones of Sammy Davis Jr.’s “Mr. Bojangles” surrounded her in the darkened room. Patrick stood at the far end of the table by Susan Strong. The two had their heads lowered and were whispering to one another.
Elizabeth furrowed her brow.
Patrick glanced up at her and smiled. “Ah, Elizabeth. What’s the word?”
Everyone at the table turned to her. The candlelight colored their faces in a warm glow.
She straightened her spine. “It’ll be a little longer before the power comes back on, but Alice is getting some flashlights.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Helen asked, her voice quivering a bit there at the end. The sound seemed so foreign coming from the normally tough gardener that it caught Elizabeth off guard.
She cleared her throat. “The problem isn’t with the breaker box.” She didn’t know what was scaring her, but if she were feeling the way she assumed Helen was, she’d want to know exactly what was going on. She’d keep the fact that cell service wasn’t working to herself until someone else figured it out. There’d be no point in giving them reason to panic.
“It must be all that lightning out there,” Patrick said, fishing something from a pocket. “I’ll call the power company.”
Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. Was the man just drawn to chaos, or what?
“My line isn’t working,” he said.
Finley came up beside her. “Cell service is down as well.”
A quick moment of silence filled the air, only the music playing through the wireless speakers filling the space, and then everyone erupted into questions, demands, and concerns. Elizabeth could barely pick out a few statements as each person’s voice got louder and louder to compete.
“What is it? An electrical storm?”
“Should we head out?”
Ex-Police Chief Shaw stood. “That’s my cue to leave.”
“Is this anything to worry about?”
“And I was so looking forward to this party.”
“Calm down, everyone,” Finley said as he lifted and lowered his hands in a calming gesture. He pointed to Shaw. “Sit.”
Shaw sat, though he glared as he did so, but everyone else seemed to get louder as more questions occurred to them, a few of them even standing from their own chairs. Everyone except Helen; she stayed in her chair with her head down. Elizabeth nearly went to her—the others weren’t her problem or her friends—but a loud whistle pierced the air. She glanced toward Patrick along with everyone else as the room fell silent. The song playing over the speakers came to an end, band instruments wrapping up the song.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Patrick stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “We’ve had storms like this before. There’s no need to cancel the party; we have plenty of light on its way and—”
A wispy, disembodied female voice filled the room. “You killed me. You killed me.”
Helen pushed out of her chair, her hands flying to her chest, as gasps from several of the guests filled the air.
“Why did you do it?” The voice spoke again, and this time Elizabeth could hear a little of a British accent in the tone.
“It’s Katelyn!” Helen shouted, all color draining from her face. “That’s her voice.”
Bridgette stood, her expression cold as ice. “What’s going on, Patrick?”
Elizabeth’s gaze shot to Patrick as he turned on his heel and headed for one of the corners of the room. The voice repeated itself word for word as he pulled one of the wireless speakers from behind a bouquet.
“It’s coming from the speakers.” His expression hardened as he turned to Finley. “Where’s Alice? She’ll know who’s connected to the speakers.”
“She’s upstairs.” Finley pointed.
A scream rent through the air coming from the front entrance—high pitched and terrified. Before it ended, Elizabeth raced toward the hall, beaten only by Daley and Fin, who were closer to the exit.
“Alice,” Daley called out as they rushed to find her. They came to the grand staircase and found Alice halfway up the steps. She was sprawled over the stairs, her gaze darting back and forth on the upper landing. Daley rushed to her, dropping to his knees by where she lay. “Alice?”
She didn’t respond. Finley stopped a few steps down from them, and Elizabeth at the bottom by where Alice’s flashlight, still aglow, came to rest. The rest of the group gathered behind her as she watched Patrick with Alice.
Patrick took her hand. “Alice. Answer me.”
Alice heaved in a breath and turned her horror-stricken face to Daley. Tears streamed down her face.
“What is it?” Patrick asked. “What happened?”
Alice croaked, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Katelyn.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the room was dead silent and so her words came clear. “I saw her. Up there.”
Daley dropped Alice’s hand and drew back.
“It’s her,” Helen whispered. “She’s here. Back to haunt us.”
“I knew it,” Debbie said. “I knew this place was haunted.”
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at the faces of the partygoers—their reactions a mixture of panic and disbelief and sorrow. She marched up the steps with her flashlight in hand, past Alice and Patrick, to the upper landing. She didn’t believe in ghosts—at least, not like this—but she did believe in spooks of flesh and blood. Weird things were happening around here, things that could’ve been caused by a real-life, flesh-and-blood human being.
She flashed her light down the hall, but no one was there. Not that she’d expected anyone to be. The stairs at the other end of the hall provided a convenient escape.
Finley spoke. “Daley, where can we take Alice and the rest of the group while we investigate what’s going on here?”
“The library,” Daley said.
Elizabeth turned as Finley pulled Alice to her feet and wrapped an arm around her back.
“I’m not going to the library,” Shaw said.
“Neither am I.” Bridgette stepped forward, hands clenched at her sides. “I’m leaving.” She pushed through the crowd toward the front door, where her jacket hung over a chair. Shaw and Kristy and Noah Calhoun followed her.
“There’s no leaving now,” Daley said.
Bridgette’s gaze narrowed on him. “Do you plan on stopping me?” She yanked on the tie of her coat, tying it around her middle.
Daley helped Finley with Alice as they headed down the stairs. The shock
he had seemed to be in a moment ago was now gone, and his cool demeanor returned. “No, but the lack of electricity will. The gates won’t open until the power comes back on.”
Bridgette dropped her tie. “What about the gate at the edge of the property?”
“You’re welcome to try, but from the gate you’ll have close to a twenty-mile walk back to town, and in the rain,” Patrick said.
“It’s pouring out there,” Bridgette said. “I’ll wait for the cavalry.”
Elizabeth came down the steps, keeping an eye on their surroundings. Chills ran their way up and down her body.
Police Chief Marshall stepped forward. “Alice needs a doctor, and we should get rides for everyone else back into town. I’ll go.”
Finley nodded. “I’ll go with you. But we need someone to show us where the gate is.” He turned to Elizabeth.
It made sense for her to go. She could get them to the gate lickety-split, but then she’d have to leave Patrick. She didn’t know what was going on around here, but her gut told her she needed to keep an eye on him. She hesitated as she considered what to do, but before she could even think, Helen pushed forward.
“I’ll go.” Even in the dark, it was easy to see that her complexion was paler than usual. “I know this property better than anyone. It should be me.”
Finley took a deep breath and gave a curt nod. “Okay. That’s that. Daley, take the others to the library and stay put there until we get back.”
Frank’s wife, Ellen, took her husband’s hand. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, stay here,” Frank said. “It’s a long walk and it’s cold out there.”
“If Helen can do it, then so can I,” she said, and she shot a glance at Helen. Helen looked like she was about to pass out. “And besides, I think Helen would prefer my company over yours.”
Frank’s eyes widened in understanding. “Right, of course.”
“You’re not leaving me, Finley.” Shaw’s deep drawl cut through the silence. “If you’re going, I am too. Better out there in the pouring rain than stuck in this place with whatever’s going on.”
“Fine.” Finley made sure that Daley had a firm grip on Alice before he and the four others in his group headed to the door to grab their jackets. Daley gathered the remaining crowd and had them follow him to the library.
Elizabeth grabbed Alice’s flashlight from the floor and crossed to Finley as he slid into his jacket. He glanced up at her as she handed him the light.
She lowered her voice. “If there was something going on here, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t keep me in the dark?”
He leaned toward her, towering over her as he cleared his throat and glanced at the four others. “With the roster of people who are here, I wouldn’t put it past Daley, but I don’t think this is what he had in mind for the night.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, just keep an eye on him until I get back. Do you have a gun on you?”
She stepped back and blinked at him. “Yes, upstairs. You think I’ll need it?”
“I hope not, but you’re in the dark, stress and imaginations are running high, and I wouldn’t be the least surprised if one of the people here killed Katelyn.”
A tightness built between Elizabeth’s brows as a headache started to come on. She’d been afraid that might be the case. Why else would he gather all these people?
“I’ll hurry back. Just be careful.” He turned to the others as they finished putting on their coats. “Ready?”
They nodded.
“Let’s get out of here,” Shaw said.
Elizabeth watched Helen lead them toward the kitchen and the back door, then turned and ran upstairs for her gun.
Chapter Eighteen
After changing into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a sweater, and boots, Elizabeth concealed her gun in her ankle holster. She did a sweep of the upper floors to make sure that no one was hiding out. She was thorough, and the flashlight from her room was brighter than the sun, which helped. Who knew Alice’s flashlight fetish would come in so handy? But she wondered how many hidden passageways, nooks, and crannies there were in this place where a person could easily hide. It definitely seemed like the kind of place that’d have hidey holes.
She hated this house.
After clearing every room, she headed to the library. She stopped inside the door and accounted for the remaining guests.
Steve and Francis Baker sat at the desk by the window, playing a game of checkers. Kristy and Noah Calhoun each occupied a club chair, and neither was speaking, though their gazes said volumes. Noah’s gaze rested firmly on Lauren and her date as they snuggled on the couch across from him, and Kristy’s gaze narrowed in on her husband. Alice sat at the other end of the couch, turned away from the amorous couple as Debbie knelt in front of her, rubbing her hand and asking her questions that Alice didn’t answer.
Phil and Susan Strong stood behind Debbie while Susan offered advice. Phil kept his arms crossed and eyes down—no doubt wondering how he’d been tricked into coming here. His gaze darted from his wife to Patrick and back again, his irritation not dampening or increasing in the least from his wife to his host.
Patrick stood before the fire with a rigid Bridgette. Their heads were low and they leaned toward one another as they spoke in hushed tones. Bridgette pulled at her sleeve, tugging it down past her palm. The entire room was rather quiet aside from the giggles coming from Lauren, the small talk from the Bakers and their checkers game, and Debbie and Susan with Alice. She couldn’t hear what Patrick and Bridgette were talking about, but there was no doubt Bridgette was incensed and that Patrick was trying to calm her. Her stiff posture and stern expression as her lips moved in rapid succession, and Patrick’s frown and hands held out in supplication, made certain of that.
As she stared at Patrick, her chest squeezed painfully tight. Everything had been rushed with them, but it hadn’t felt that way. All she felt was love. His gaze flicked toward her, even though he had every reason to keep his attention focused on the angry woman before him. It was as if he’d felt her staring.
In the middle of Bridgette’s sentence, Patrick cut her off, his voice loud and clear. “Elizabeth.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and faced her.
“Where have you been? I was worried sick,” he said.
“Went to change.” She left out that she’d searched the house for intruders, not wanting to fuel the fire of panic that could very easily take over. Aside from Alice, who still appeared shell-shocked, the rest of the group appeared calm. No doubt due to something Patrick had said to them.
“Into something more your speed, looks like.” Bridgette lifted her chin.
“I wish you hadn’t wandered off without telling me. I thought you’d gone with Finley,” Patrick continued.
“How’s Alice doing?” She moved forward and dropped her gaze to the housekeeper.
Debbie stood. “She’s better, all things considered. Still in a bit of a shock. She thinks with the power out her imagination must have gotten the better of her.”
The clopping of several feet down the hall alerted everyone to the library door just before Finley, Helen, and the others returned. They were drenched from head to toe. Helen was visibly shaking. And for just a split second, her gaze flicked to Bridgette. Elizabeth thought she’d imagined it for a second, but when Bridgette sneered, she knew she hadn’t.
Elizabeth turned to Finley. “What happened?”
Ellen took Helen by the shoulders and led her to the fireplace.
Fin ran a hand through his wet locks. “Looks like lightning hit the big oak tree out by the gate on the perimeter and blocked the exit. We’re stuck here until the power comes back on.”
Alice seemed to gather her wits about her as she glanced from Helen to the other soaked in the rainstorm and straightened her spine. She stood. “You poor things. I must get you some towels.”
Susan grabbed Alice’s arm. “Can I come with you? I’ve needed to use the b
athroom for some time now.”
“I’ll go too. I need a towel.” Fin kept his gaze on Alice, probably still worried for her.
Shaw wiped at his wet brow, then pointed to Patrick. “You’re not leaving me here alone with him.”
Patrick’s lip quirked up on the side.
Alice and Susan led the way out of the room as Shaw and Fin dripped after them.
“This is all so exciting,” Lauren said, earning a glare from Kristy. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”
“I can,” Noah said, his gaze boring into Lauren.
Lauren sent him a naughty smile.
“Noah—” It looked like Kristy was about to yell, but instead, her gaze whipped up to the second-floor balcony and she drew back in her chair. At the same moment, a gasp sounded from near the fireplace.
“Did you see that?” Kristy pushed out of her chair and pointed up.
Elizabeth stepped out from under the balcony and peered up to where Kristy was pointing, where everyone in the room was now looking. There was nothing. “See what?”
Kristy kept her eyes locked upward. “I … I saw it.”
“I saw it, too. Something in the shadows,” Bridgette said, losing her haughtiness.
“It looked like Katelyn,” Kristy said.
Noah jumped out of his chair, his face turning several shades of red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, woman.”
Elizabeth lifted her flashlight, shining it around, but there was nothing. “There’s no one.”
“It was Katelyn!” Kristy turned on her husband. “I know what I saw, and it was her. I’m not as blind or dumb as you think I am, Noah Calhoun. I know it was Katelyn like I know you were having an affair with that little tart over there.”
Lauren pushed her date off her and came to her feet. “I am not a tart!”
Well, that would explain the weird looks going between the three all night. Elizabeth’s stomach roiled. Not only was Noah the last thing she’d refer to as attractive—his surly demeanor had only partly to do with his lack of appeal—but he was also probably close to thirty years older than Lauren.
The Heir of Thornfield Manor Page 13
