Shawn departed the van allowing the crew to get the equipment. She made the mistake of offering to help on one or two occasions only to be reminded that because of union rules she wasn’t allowed to help. She grabbed the bag she carried her own gear in.
“Just follow the gravel path,” Carl one of the cameramen instructed her. He pointed towards the no trespassing sign hanging from a steel chain. The trail disappeared into the heavily wooded area.
“Thanks.” She nodded, eager to be alone and get a feel for the location. She shouldered her bag and headed down the trail. Despite the sign, the film crew had been granted permission from the county to investigate the small graveyard located near the Rubio Forest Reserve not far from Chicago.
Shawn drank in the sounds of the forest the sunlight peeking through the foliage. The forest sounds were calming and what wasn’t calming were the other sounds that grew louder with each step she took. The sounds of birds and other animals faded as the air grew chilly.
Shawn paused for a moment to brush something from her face. It was a familiar feeling of having passed through a spider’s web. She shivered and her heart began to race as she felt them crowding her. None of this was new for Dr. Shawn Williams who spent most of her life working as a paranormal investigator.
For her stepping into a graveyard meant the residents would soon be demanding her attention. Unlike most people she could hear them and so many were desperate to be heard. Bachelor’s Grove was unlike most cemeteries she had visited where the residents were eager to pass on warm messages or to be simply be noticed. Here not a single soul was happy to see her or anyone else.
“Oh no,” she groaned rubbing her throbbing temple. “I swear I’m here to observe and maybe tell your story.”
‘We’ve heard it before Sister!’
She stumbled along until she was standing on the edge of the burial ground. The complaining continued as she looked around seeing for herself why the residents failed to welcome outsiders. It went beyond the obvious neglect, Shawn felt sick seeing the vandalism that had reached the level of desecration. Shawn stood there listening to the tales of how tombstones had been toppled, smashed and graves had been dug up by posers who played at performing black masses.
“For decades their finally resting place had been anything but peaceful.” A voice said from behind her.
Shawn turned to find her colleague and friend Farrah. “I have never felt this unwelcome,” Shawn confessed to the lanky Asian woman, whose parents definitely had a sense of humor. Truthfully, the poor investigator had long ago grown weary of having to explain that yes her father was a Charlie’s Angels fan.
“This is not going to go well,” Farrah nervously offered.
Shawn placed her bag down on the unruly grass and extracted her camera. “Yeah, creepy abandoned graveyard where the spirits want to be left alone, what could possibly go wrong?”
It was cold dark and generally unnerving. Shawn stood on the edge of the graveyard waiting for the crew to get it together. Farrah stood next to her releasing a heavy sigh. Earlier Shawn had started taking pictures first with her digital camera until she had to change the batteries five times in as in many minutes. She switched to her infrared camera only to endure the same problems.
While switching cameras she turned on the mini digital voice recorder she always carried. She tested it only to have it fail as well.
“Should we tell Althea again?” Farrah questioned clearly annoyed.
“I’m not going over there,” Shawn refused. “She just threatened to beat the gaffer. We’ve told her, the techs have told her the equipment just isn’t going to work.”
“Can one of you genius’ videotape Shawn with your cellphone?” Althea screeched.
“Okay, maybe I should talk to her,” Shawn reluctantly surmised.
“Go with God,” Farrah advised stepping aside allowing Shawn to accept her fate on her own.
“Althea?”
“What?” She barked startling Shawn.
“This is a bust.”
“No,” Althea vehemently argued. “It’s a freaking cemetery we’ve filmed hundreds of them.”
“Yes,” Shawn nervously agreed. “However despite the fact that everyone checked and rechecked the equipment nothing is working.”
“Smartphones,” Althea almost cackled. “It won’t be pretty but we’ll have something.”
“Everyone’s battery died over an hour ago,” Shawn wearily tried to reason with her. “It happens, you’ve seen it before. We don’t have cameras, REM pods, EMF meters even the digital micro records won’t function so we don’t even have a shot at EVP action. We’ve got nothing and the situation isn’t going to improve. The residents here have had enough of intruders. I know you wanted to get this place on film since no one else has managed it save for some pictures.”
“This can’t be happening,” Althea’s shoulders slumped.
“Once upon a time the families of those who had passed came here paid their respects, even picnicked with their dearly departed,” Shawn began trying to explain. “Then it was abandoned and the dead forgotten until others decided that this was party central. Look around- “she pointed to the toppled grave markers and up turned soil. “Would you want this to be your legacy? I know we’re only into our second season for this show and you’re under a lot of pressure but we aren’t going to get so much as a snapshot tonight.”
“The County only gave us tonight,” Althea sounded frantic.
“Well we can’t sit around all night,” Shawn shivered still plagued by the spirits that surrounded her. “I doubt it will do any good. How about we pack it in and head straight to the nearest watering hole for food and drink before hitting the road?”
Although, her producer seemed to wane slightly she failed to give in. Reluctantly Shawn rejoined Farrah and watched and waited.
“You’d think the fact that this place has a history of electronic malfunctions would have clued her in that this might not be the best place to do an investigation.”
“I know,” Shawn groaned her senses on overload. “You hear them don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Carl released a piercing scream and tore off. “You know for a big guy he screams just like a little girl,” Shawn noted listening to the ghostly laughter as a mist chased the burly man off into the woods.
“Someone get Carl,” Althea growled.
“We can pack up and be on the road. Chances are we can make it to New Orleans by morning,” Shawn quietly reasoned watching the faint image of an older gentlemen approach her.
‘You should leave now!’ It advised.
“Ever work for an unreasonable boss?” Farrah challenged the fading image. Neither she nor Shawn flinched when it hissed before evaporating.
“It is days like this I wish I had become an accountant like my parents wanted,” Farrah quipped her eyes darting around taking in the images that only she and Shawn were privy to.
“Did you ever try a day job?” Shawn threw out in an effort to distract from the building tensions.
“I have my jewelry business. It is a nice distraction from all of this. How about you?”
“Oh, yeah. I just couldn’t make anything work. Little things like knowing who was sleeping with whom. The last gig I had was seasonal help at a department store.” She chuckled as she shook her head. “It was a couple of days before Christmas and there I was surrounded by desperate shoppers. I was just about to ring up this very expensive leather jacket for a woman, when it happened.”
“A person who had passed on felt an urgent need to pass on a message.” Farrah concluded for her.
“It was the holidays, the place was jammed with the dearly departed,” Shawn wanted to laugh. “At that point in my life, I had learned a trick or two. You know, just slipping something into the conversation that isn’t obvious. This one guy, he did not want this woman to buy the jacket I was about to ring up. Apparently, his daughter was too good for this guy. There I was holding her credit card trying to run it.
He grabbed it. He kept screaming don’t let her buy this for him. He’s a lying, cheating asshole. The woman is asking what the problem is. The line is almost out the door. By this time my supervisor showed up. Everyone was yelling at me. I finally snapped. I gave her back her card and told her what her father said. I was fired on the spot.”
“That sucks. It’s always the persistent ones that get us in trouble.”
“In the end it worked out.”
“How?” Farrah pressed. “Did the woman thank you?”
“No. On my way out the door, she called me a bitch. Another woman followed me out. She was working on her PH.D in paranormal studies. She wanted to know if I’d be willing to participate in a study. I had some done studies before. Some good and some were utter rubbish. Turns out that one was good. I had already finished my BS in psych. I never knew I could learn more about my gift. When I discovered that I could use my gift and earn a degree I felt the same way I did when I came out. It is also, how I met Althea.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“Yes, it does. I am finding it hard to find the reasoning behind this little fiasco.”
“You and me both. And we’re psychics.”
“Hmm,” Shawn murmured watching the wind kick up forcing the dead leaves to twirl about clouding everyone’s vision.
“How’s Faith?”
“She’s good,” Shawn smiled for the first time that day. Any mention of her girlfriend always brightened her mood. “Working behind the scenes seems to suit her. I hate that she doesn’t get taken seriously in the news industry any longer. Just because she’s seen a ghost.”
“We do that every day,” Farrah laughed shielding her eyes from the flying debris. “But given what passes for news these days she’s lucky to be out of it. – Wailing woman,” she added suddenly. “I can’t – damn it I hate that. Did you feel anything?”
“Sadness, bitterness and general distrust,” Shawn shook her head. “Same things I’ve been feeling all day. Although I keep hearing hoof beats on and off. You know what really sucks about tonight. There is nonstop activity and we can’t document a thing.”
“I know at this rate all Althea is going to get is commentary on what we saw and absolutely nothing else.”
Carl finally emerged from the woods dripping wet. “Pity,” Shawn snickered. “Catching Carl running and screaming would have been something I would have loved having on film.”
“Now there’s something I’d love to see on YouTube.”
Over three hours later Shawn and the rest of the crew wearily dragged themselves into the hotel lobby. Carl was the first one to inquire about a bar. He still looked disheveled by his experience.
“No bar here,” Carl looked as if he was going to cry. “The guy said there’s one across the street that should still be open.”
Everyone dropped their gear in their rooms and headed over to Ronan’s Pub. Shawn was more than a little miffed that she need to plug her cell in and wasn’t able to call Faith.
“How are you holding up Carl?” She asked when the crew was on their third round of beverages. Shawn felt a little bad for the staff who looked as if they were ready to head home when the motley crew invaded the quaint little bar.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough,” Shawn conceded shaking off an icy feeling. “Althea how are you doing?”
“I’m pissed.”
“When this spot was scheduled did you know about its history of technical difficulties?”
“Not until we got here.”
“Ah, and then it became a challenge,” Shawn snickered before shifting uncomfortably. She cringed feeling an icy touch on her arm. She shook it off rolling her shoulders hearing the distinct sound of bagpipes being played in the distance. She scowled spying a gaunt figure dressed in a kilt holding a set of bagpipes. Its beady eyes bearing down on her. It smiled revealing an ominous smile.
“Is there music playing?” Jonas McGill who was to be the on camera host that night.
“We have company,” Shawn whispered to him brushing away the cold touch that brushed against her breast.
“Geez,” Althea squealed jumping out of her chair. “What the fu- “
“Everything all right?” The waitress inquired seemingly amused.
“Something touched me,” Althea spat out. “And not in a fun way.”
“Ah, that would be Shane, the mad piper,” the young woman whose name was Kristy merrily offered. “He’s a bit of a pervert.”
“More than just a little,” Farrah grunted waving her finger indicating that another round was in order.
“Most of the time he just plays a little tune,” she responded. “However, he has a thing for the ladies and he isn’t shy about how he introduces himself. If you ask me he is most definitely a breast man. You ladies look familiar, what brings you folks to the area?”
“We’re with a television show,” Farrah sheepishly confessed. “The Edge of the Paranormal, which is a terrible name.” She directed the last part towards Althea.
“I love that show,” she gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“We should have done our shoot here,” Shawn jested detecting the faint sound of the piper playing a tune.
“Let me guess,” Kristy interjected while delivering the large order with relative ease. “Bachelor’s Grove? I’ve had some interesting experiences out there.”
“So did we,” Carl choked out before draining his beer.
“Sadly, the specters were camera shy,” Shawn explained.
“What do you do when that happens?” Kristy questioned.
“Drink,” Althea groused. “So, tell us about the mad piper?”
“My God she really is going to make us work tonight.”
Chapter 11
Central Park West, NYC
April 5, 1938
After the trip abroad, Ella’s introduction to the wild world of Temperance Muraille began in full force.
After a fitful night of trying to sleep, Ella reluctantly climbed out of bed. She was roused when she heard pots and pans being banged about followed by the delightful aroma of coffee. She dressed in what she hoped was appropriate attire. She was more than a little surprised when she failed to find Christopher. They had only returned the night before and her body had yet to acclimate to the time change.
Cautiously, she stepped out into the main apartment. She was instantly greeted by Mrs. Culvert the cook who always seemed to be lurking around the corner. Mrs. Culvert handed her a cup of coffee to bring to Temperance who was already in her office.
“Have you seen Christopher?” She innocently inquired.
“I understand, he stayed with a friend,” Mrs. Culvert furrowed her brow. “It wouldn’t be proper for you and he to be staying together alone.” She added in a hushed tone.
“Of course it wouldn’t,” Christopher announced seemingly having appeared from nowhere. “I’ll take that in. I need to warn her that Helena has swooped down off of her broomstick.”
“Oh, that one.” Mrs. Culvert grimaced. “Come, Miss Ella you must be starving.” She quickly ushered Ella into the kitchen where Jenny was sipping a cup of tea. “Brace yourself, Jenny. Helena is back.”
Jenny simply rolled her eyes. “Have a seat, Miss Ella.” Jenny offered.
“Who is Helena? This is wonderful,” She added after taking a bite of the best breakfast she had been treated to in a very long time.
“She’s a friend of Miss Temperance. Although, I’ll never understand why.” Mrs. Culvert sneered. “Eat up.”
“She comes and goes,” Jenny tried to clarify. “Thankfully she never lingers for very long.”
“It just seems that way.” Mrs. Culvert threw in her own two cents.
“That’s not for us to say,” Christopher announced as he entered the kitchen.
“Don’t you go pretending that you like her,” Mrs. Culvert snorted.
“Oh, of course I don’t like her. She’s a
wicked one. However, she is the lady of the house’s friend.” He clarified alerting Ella that Helena was more than a friend.
Temperance emerged from her office just in time for Helena’s arrival. She was tall, blonde, skinny and Ella hated her the moment she laid eyes on her. Christopher instantly took charge after Helena literally dropped her cloak onto Ella. He grabbed the cloak and ushered Helena into the sitting room.
Mrs. Culvert brought tea, which Helena sneered at. Temperance fetched her a cocktail. The two of them settled down going over some papers. Or rather Temperance went over the papers while Helena drank and made surly comments.
Ella followed Christopher around as they answered phone calls and gathered papers that Temperance needed.
“The Hobbema is no longer available.” He grimly informed his employer.
“Because?”
“It has sold.”
“To whom? Never mind call Andrew and congratulate him. I never would have been able to outbid him. The good news is more than likely he will donate it to the National Gallery.”
“Another painting?” Helena sighed dramatically.
“Yes, Andrew Mellon feels a need to outshine me. He also likes to share beauty as much as I do and since he has deeper pockets I’m happy to let him think he has one up on me.”
“I do not understand why the two of you do that? What is the point of acquiring expensive things just to share them with the public?” Helena groused.
Temperance seemed to ignore her. Instead she nodded for Christopher to go make the requested phone call.
“Now, what were you saying?” She prompted her guest.
“I was saying that it is simply dreadful,” Helena prattled on as Ella stood by waiting for her new employer to sign a stack of papers. “No one and I mean no one entertains in Newport any longer. You must inform your mother.”
“That would require speaking to her,” Temperance curtly responded. “Not to mention if she begins hosting parties here, I might actually have to attend.”
“And who is this?” Helena purred casting a lecherous gaze in Ella’s direction. The overt ogling was bad enough, but since Helena had been there for hours, she certainly had ample opportunity to notice Ella.
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