Christopher scowled as he rejoined them. “He was out. I left a message.” He informed his employer.
“This is Miss Westbrook, my new assistant.” Temperance offered without bothering to look up.
“Ah, yes poor Dear Christopher is being put out to pasture. Lord knows he’s far too long in the tooth to be put out for stud.”
“How I will miss that witty repartee,” Christopher offered in a bored tone.
“What do you think?” Helena addressed Temperance with a snarl.
“I never found you all that witty,” she retorted with a shrug.
“I meant about the property.” Helena hissed. “And you love me.” Ella stiffened as Temperance stood up and handed Helena the papers she had been studying.
“No and no.” She announced.
“No you don’t love me?” Helena teased. “Or no to the investment.”
“Both.”
“No!” Helena screeched. “It’s a good price.”
“If you like swamps.”
“What?”
“Most of this parcel is under water,” Temperance barked with amusement. “What little you can build on will be infested with mosquitos. Keep your money.”
“You just ruin everything,” she sighed dramatically. “Are you going to the party tonight?”
Temperance looked to Christopher. “Yes.” He confirmed.
“Good,” Helena purred while gathering up her things. “You must bring Christopher, Jr. She’s adorable.”
“You’re terrible human being, you know that don’t you.” Temperance chastised her while guiding her towards the door.
“But you love me.”
“No, I don’t.” Temperance answered with a yawn just before she closed the door. “Christopher, where am I supposed to be?”
“Downstairs in the foundation offices.”
“Ella, would you inform, Mrs. Culvert that I won’t be dining in this evening? Then meet us downstairs. Thank you.”
Ella stood there for a moment after they departed. She couldn’t help wondering if she could endure working around the likes of Helena? If she was indeed Temperance Muraille’s type there would be another just like her lurking around the corner.
Chapter 12
Cape Point, ME
September 11, 2017
Ro tapped her fingers on the table. The past few days had been Hell on earth. Everywhere she turned there were spiders. There were so many and they were so close she could hear them moving. They crawled up her body and the one on her face led her to emit a bloodcurdling scream that could wake the dead. Not that she needed to do that, as the woman in the mirror appeared almost every night. Her message was the same; she wanted Ro to leave the Island and leave it now. After what she’d been through, Ro was more than ready to heed her advice. Then, there was the voice; dark, menacing, telling her she was worthless. It taunted her, daring her to join him and free her from her pain. She desperately needed to talk to Shawn; just the sound of her voice would help to calm her fragile nerves, now on the verge of breaking.
At her wits end by the time Shawn answered her call, she blurted out everything. On the verge of tears she sat back and listened to Shawn’s advice.
“It can’t hurt you,” Shawn encouraged in her soothing way. “The lady managed to cross the threshold. That tells me that you have nothing to fear from her.”
“I don’t like getting naked in front of strangers and going outside to change my clothes isn’t an option.”
“Inform her that she isn’t wanted there and she needs to move on.”
“I tried that she’s very stubborn. What about the spiders? I was sitting on a cliff and out of nowhere I found one crawling in my hair. Then there was another and another.”
“You are out in the middle of the woods.” Shawn sounded exhausted. “You’ve dealt with things like this before.”
“No, you’ve dealt with things like this before. I take pictures. One out of fifty has something in it that wasn’t there. Like that big tree in Indiana. Beautiful tree until I revealed the image of a shadowy figure swinging from a rope. That’s the limit of my interaction with the dead. Every now and then, they photobomb me. I’m not used to having them get up close and personal.”
“Have you gotten enough photos to satisfy your employer?”
“More than enough. Why?”
“Then go. It sounds like a very inhospitable place,” Shawn encouraged with a healthy yawn. “Get out. If you’ve met your obligations then move on.”
“Thank you. I guess I just needed someone to tell me that it is okay.”
“It is okay.”
Muraille Island
September 12, 2017
Despite Shawn’s advice, the perfectionist in her felt she should try and stay until the end. After all, she reminded herself, it was only a few more days and what’s a few spiders, right? Maybe it was just the evening’s darkness, making her feel so alone and helpless. The following morning she was once again wandering around the island still unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. She was following an eagle, majestically soaring about, until it perched itself on top of the old barn. She clicked off a few pictures hoping the events of the past few days were behind her. Then she froze, feeling something scratching along her forearm. She was trembling when she glanced down to see a large hairy spider crawling up her arm.
Screaming and cursing she shook it free before bolting into the barn. Already struggling to catch her breath she almost choked when she spied a figure lurking around the covered airplane. Ready to faint she leaned against the plane. An icy hand gripped her arm, yanking her forward.
‘Did I say you could touch it?’
“I don’t like it here,” Ro whimpered before stumbling out of the barn.
‘Go, it’s not safe here.’
“You know when you’re right you’re right.” Ro sputtered while trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Within an hour she packed up and radioed for Kirby to come get her and her belongings.
Murialle Island
September 15, 2017
“Doug!” Delia shouted in order to be heard over the argument. She was flabbergasted. She had worked with Doug and his crew numerous times over the past decade. The wild man standing before her at that moment bore no resemblance to the kind gentle man she had once known.
“What do you want now?”
“Doug, - “
“Listen, woman you hired me to do a job!” he cut her off. “Back off so I can do it!”
Delia bit back the curt response that threatened to come out. “Doug,” she managed to begin. “We need to talk.” He grunted and muttered as he followed her down to the dock. Her body stiffened with each unflattering barb she heard. By the time she had walked out to the dock she was ready to fire Doug. Which only added to the bizarre events that been happening since they began work. Just weeks earlier, she was forced to fire Nicky after he punched Doug.
“Listen,” she barked as she spun around fully prepared to ream her old friend. The words died on her lips. He stood there looking completely bewildered.
“Delia?”
“What is going on?” She questioned in a calmer tone.
“I don’t know,” he sputtered. “I swear I have no idea. There is something wrong with this place.”
She couldn’t disagree with him. There was something very strange about the island and she felt it the moment she arrived two days ago. Staring at Doug, her anger started to ebb when suddenly her eyes widened with fear when she spied something off in the distance.
“Smoke!”
A few hours later Delia was back on the mainland. More precisely she was sitting at a bar in the middle of Cape Point. Thankfully the bar was almost empty. Originally she had planned on drinking until the day’s events made sense. She opted instead to drown her sorrows with lots and lots of coffee. The only upside to her day was that she didn’t need to fire Doug. Wisely, he decided to quit. His crew followed his lead and Doug was gone. Th
at should have resolved her problems. The project was already behind schedule. What little work that had managed to be completed had just gone up in flames.
She didn’t have any answers. The only thing she knew for certain was Doug was right about one thing. There was something wrong with the island.
“I’ll never get this done by the deadline.” She groaned while she dug in her pocket to retrieve her cell phone. She felt her headache steadily growing as she dialed the number.
“Hey, this is Delia St. James,” she politely began. “I think I need your help.”
Central Park West, NYC
May 1, 1938
Ella felt she was finally, settling in to her new position. Then Helena swooped in for a visit. The woman had a way of taking over whenever she was about. Ella did remind herself that whatever relationship existed between her employer and Helena was none of her business.
That did not keep her from lingering outside the office after Helena insisted that they closed the doors. Helena insisted that privacy was essential.
“I heard the most delightful thing about your little farm girl.”
“Helena, when I tell you that enough is enough, what is it that you hear? Perhaps, I need to be more exact. You are not to make disparaging comments regarding Miss Westbrook ever again.”
“You do not wish to hear whom she spent time with during her days at Vassar?”
“Look at you trying to act coy,” Temperance barked with laughter. “No, I do not. Quite frankly it is none of my business. It’s certainly none of yours.”
“Daria Harrington.” Helena smugly supplied.
“A truly awful person, who takes great delight in debauchery and corrupting young women. I seem to recall there was a time when you hung on her every word. Whatever calamity you were hoping to create has only produced sympathy. I do say I am surprised by the way you’ve latched onto my new assistant. You’ve barely spoken to the woman and here you acting like Sam Spade. Have you been spending time with Dashielle and Lillian again?”
“You can be such a bore,” Helena spat out. “This girl is trouble. Best to find another Christopher. She jumped from farm girl to keeping company with Daria before she could scrape the dirt out from under her nails.”
“You are in no position to be sitting judgement. Given the way your skirt magically flies up whenever you see a pretty face. Or given the number of times you’ve rang me to send my car to pick you up in the wee hours because you have no idea whose bed you’ve had fallen into. I will only say this once Miss Westbrook’s private life is just that, private.”
“That little guttersnipe doesn’t get to win,” Helena hissed.
“She already has, now leave.”
“Tempe, you love me, you know you do.”
“No, I don’t. I never have, never will. Now go before I have you forcibly removed.”
“Your Mother is going to hear about this.”
“Oh, goodie. Now leave or are you under the impression that I make idle threats?”
Helena hissed before spinning on her heels and tearing open the office doors. She snarled like a wild animal when she almost plowed into Ella.
“This isn’t over,” she threatened before storming out.
“Like a whisper of springtime isn’t she?” Temperance jested.
“What she said about,” Ella tearfully began.
“That would be none of my business.” Temperance cut her off. “Now, are those the contracts for the New Jersey properties?”
“Yes.” Ella gulped her hands shaking as she handed them over.
“Good, let’s get to work shall we?”
Chapter 13
New Orleans, LA.
September16, 2017
Shawn felt mildly uneasy. She hated putting Delia off. But she had work to do. The way they had met was unorthodox to say the least. Delia’s ancestor still lingered about the family home making it impossible to live in. Her great grandfather wasn’t a nice person in life, it wasn’t all that surprising that in death he was downright evil.
She stepped out of the van and was instantly assaulted by the humidity. She went to the back of the van, to retrieve her bags. They should have arrived in Louisiana days ago. Disappointed with Chicago, Althea rerouted the crew to Springfield, Missouri. Not having the permits they required the side trip proved to be a bust. The crew did what they always did in such a situation, they found a bar.
The three vans they used to carry equipment and crew made the trip down from Springfield in just under twelve hours. It was just past six in the evening and the heat was still in full force.
“Why can’t we go to our hotel first?” Jonas whined, and like most of the others he was hungover.
“Thanks to the other night,” Althea tersely began. “We’re down an episode. We need to get something going and now. “Jasper!” She bellowed for her second in command. “Get things started. I’ll go to the hotel and handle checking everyone in. I need to find us another location.”
“We’ll need make up,” Jasper tried to argue. “Usually, we use a local. The talent looks like they are going to throw up.”
“Well none of us should have started doing shots last night,” Althea choked back. “Just get a simple walk through with Shawn and then Farrah. Have one of the cameras just shoot in black in white. Maybe no one will notice.”
“Can I make a phone call first?” Shawn barked not enjoying the way they were being pushed around.
“Yes, tell Faith I said hello,” she waved her off. “Natasha set things up with the owners. We need a walk through and interviews with the family.
“Want to talk about it now, Carl?” Shawn softly offered while organizing her equipment. “You’ve been awfully quiet since Chicago.”
“There were three of them,” his voice quivered. “One had a pitch fork. They kept surrounding me and screeching at me.”
“What did they say?”
“The usual.”
“Get out?” Shawn surmised.
“You’d think they’d come up with something new,” he tried to joke.
“I saw a lot of entities that night none were happy that we were there. Didn’t see the dude with the pitchfork.”
“I’ve worked a lot of these with you over the years,” Carl paused to wipe the perspiration from his brow. “Never been chased before.”
“Make you miss the old days in Bosnia?” She teased while dialing her phone.
New York, NY.
The same evening
Faith fumbled to dig her keys out of her pocket. As she juggled the bundles of canvas bags she realized that she might have gone overboard at the farmer’s market. Before she could locate her keys the lock turned and the door to the apartment slowly opened.
For a brief moment she was excited thinking that perhaps her girlfriend Shawn had finished her assignment early. Upon stepping inside she realized that Shawn wasn’t home. She felt a slight chill brush against her.
“Thank you, Willie,” she sighed wearily. “I will never get use to that.” She mumbled kicking the door shut.
Willie was sweet. Willie was fun. Willie was dead and had been for quite some time. For some reason none of this bothered Shawn.
The kitchen faucet turned alerting her that Willie had not appreciated her comment. “I’m sorry, Dude.” Placing her packages down on the kitchen counter, she began to unpack the produce. Willie amused himself by turning the water faucet on and off. She tried to ignore his antics as her cellphone vibrated.
“Hey there Sweetheart,” she gushed unable to keep herself from smiling. She shrugged out of her coat her keys falling from the pocket. “That’s where my keys are.”
“Hi, Faith,” Shawn brightly responded. “Are you locked out?”
“No, Willie let me in,” she reluctantly confessed. “How is it going?”
“Exhausting, I don’t know why I still do these TV gigs. I thought when I signed on to do a series it would make our lives easier.”
“Is this about that ass
hat’s review again?” Faith groaned.
“They said the show was like watching an episode of Scooby Doo.”
“I happen to like Scooby Doo,” Faith chuckled. “You can’t take those things to heart. Now how are things going? What happened in Chicago? Weren’t you supposed to do a stint at Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery?”
“That place is funky,” Shawn sounded overly excited. “One major hiccup was that none of the sound or video equipment would work. Ours wasn’t the first team to experience that.”
“No video, no show,” Faith surmised. “Good thing you had the Trumbo house in New Orleans already booked. You still sound tired.”
“I can’t wait to get home,” Shawn instantly sounded weary once again.
“So, you didn’t get anything interesting in Chicago?”
“Very active,” Shawn sounded exhausted. “Sucked the energy out of the equipment. It was late when we finally bagged the project. Everyone went out for a drink. Just our luck the place was haunted. Althea made us work. Then she decided to give this farm house in Missouri a shot. The owners had already declined. So, no surprise when we couldn’t get permits.
“That would explain the text I got from her to research the mad piper. Any chance you’ll get some down time before hitting the road?”
“We just arrived in New Orleans.”
“That would be a no. At least you’ve got time to relax, take a shower- “
“No again,” Shawn voice grew terse. “We need to hit the ground running. I really wish we were filming down here in the spring. I know we have a lot more competition these days. She’s got us booked solid. We just started and I’m already spent.”
“When are you going to get a break?”
“I don’t know,” Shawn groaned shouldering the phone while gathering her gear. “I’m not even inside yet and I’m already feeling something. Unfortunately, I’m not just getting hits from the house. This is one of those cities where there are so many voices.”
“That’s not good for your health, Honey.”
Muraille Island Page 9
