Kirk's eyes widened. "Hey, Bryant, it looks like your dad has the hots for Peyton's mom."
Bryant cocked a brow. "What are you talking about?"
All turned to see Luke and Melody chatting animatedly near the picnic table, seemingly caught up in their own world.
Peyton found herself immediately looking around for Vance, as though her mother was carrying on a love affair with Luke right out in the open. Just like Rebecca was with Trevor fifty years ago. Peyton spotted her stepfather talking with Lily's grandmother and another neighbor, but Vance seemed more fixed on Melody and Luke.
"Dad probably has the hots for every attractive woman in Shadow Bay," Bryant said with a shrug. "But with Mrs. McIntyre, it's strictly professional--with maybe a little mutual friendship thrown in for good measure."
Kirk gave him a dubious look. "Yeah, right. If you say so, dude."
"They're definitely not having an affair," Peyton said sharply. "My mother's not like that!"
"I'm just fooling around," Kirk said. "Didn't mean anything by it."
"I'm glad your parents made Labor Day something fun for a change," Bryant said to Peyton, shifting the subject.
"So am I," seconded Lily. "Even if it'll make going back to Atlanta that much harder."
"I'll miss you," Peyton told her.
"Me, too."
"Glad we can all agree on something," joked Kirk, putting his arm around Lily's waist.
"Hey, let's go swimming in the bay," she suggested to everyone. "I wore my suit under my clothes, just in case."
"That's a great idea," Kirk said. "I have my suit in the car."
Bryant looked down at Peyton. "I'm game. How about you?"
Peyton bit her lip. Though she now knew more about the girl in the bay than she cared to and no longer believed that Caitlyn had meant her any harm, the thought of going in that water again anytime soon made Peyton uncomfortable.
"I don't really feel like swimming," she said simply. "Maybe you guys should just go without me."
Bryant lowered his brows thoughtfully. "I won't let anything happen to you in the bay, if that's what you're worried about. I promise."
"It isn't," she lied. Caitlyn's pale, lifeless face flashed in Peyton's mind, followed by Caitlyn's skeletal remains forcing her into the water.
Lily seemed to read her mind. She released Kirk's hold and locked arms with Peyton, wresting her away from Bryant.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered after they had distanced themselves a bit. "Caitlyn wouldn't dare think about showing her face in the water with the three of us in there, too."
"I suppose not," Peyton muttered, knowing she shouldn't let paranoia keep her from having fun with friends.
"Then say you'll come," pleaded Lily. "I'm not exactly ashamed of my body, but I'd feel a lot more comfortable displaying it if you did the same."
Before Peyton could respond, Bryant and Kirk joined them and were waiting for an answer. She didn't want to disappoint them or herself. "Okay, okay, you guys win. I'll go put on my bikini and meet you at the bay."
"I'll go with Peyton and we'll meet you two there," Lily said.
"Cool," Kirk said.
Bryant kissed her and smiled. "See you shortly."
Peyton relished the lingering effects of the kiss as they walked away.
Her fears of going into the water were quelled right away, as there was no sighting of Caitlyn or any other dead person. Soon Peyton was comfortably practicing her swim strokes with confidence and playing in the bay with her friends.
Labor Day was turning out to be pretty good after all, and, as far as Peyton was concerned, Shadow Bay just might turn out to be a nice place to live when all was said and done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Frances Kramer entered the house that she hadn't set foot in for nearly half a century. She had said she needed to use the bathroom, but really just wanted to see for herself if her long ago best friend would actually appear to her, as Caitlyn had to Peyton and perhaps others over the years.
And what if she does? What then?
What do I say to someone I have avoided for so long out of fear and utter foolishness?
Frances walked across the hardwood floor, hearing it squeaking just like when she was a girl.
She found herself moving towards the study, remembering how she once played in there with Caitlyn, using the secret passageway for fun and games. Maybe her energy would draw Caitlyn there. Then perhaps Frances could learn if she had achieved her objectives in showing herself to Peyton and would leave the poor girl alone once and for all.
Or was there a darker motive to her ghostly visits?
* * *
Caitlyn watched with curiosity as the woman--whom she imagined to be in her sixties--walked into the study, as if lost. She followed her, assuming she had come in from the picnic to use the bathroom or maybe wash her hands of barbecue sauce. Yet something told Caitlyn the woman was not lost and seemed to know exactly where she was going.
She saw the woman walk to the bookcase, surveying it with interest. What was she doing? Had she been given permission to borrow a book?
The woman, who wore glasses and looked vaguely familiar to Caitlyn in a distant way, pulled a book from the shelf. Then she put her hand inside, as if searching for something.
The secret door.
Caitlyn's eyes widened in disbelief. How did she know about it?
Just then, as though sensing her, Caitlyn watched the woman drop the book and swivel around. She stared, mouth agape, as if able to see Caitlyn.
But that wasn't possible. Only those she was connected to in some special way could see the ghost Caitlyn had become.
"Caitlyn..." The voice had a coarse texture to it, but still rang with recognition. "Is that really you?" She drew in a steadying breath. "It's me, Frances Hobson, your best friend. Actually, I'm now Frances Kramer--"
Caitlyn put her hands to her mouth with incredulity. Fran, is it really you? She tried to look beyond the elderly woman before her and see Frances for who she once was--young and energetic.
"Peyton told me she'd seen you and I needed to see for myself..." Frances moved closer, seemingly unafraid. "I'm so sorry for what happened to you, Caitlyn...and your mother. And I'm equally sorry that it's taken me so long to come back here. I guess I was afraid, maybe more of myself than confronting you."
Caitlyn wanted to speak to her, having so much to say. But she couldn't. She wasn't quite strong enough to use her voice. Yet she had to communicate. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated till she felt a surge of energy. She pointed at the floor.
Frances looked down and saw words seeming to form right out of the wood itself.
"It's not your fault what happened, Fran, or mine. I've missed you, more than I can say. But you have to get out of here. It's not safe for you in this house."
Frances looked at her with consternation. "What are you saying, Caitlyn? Are the McIntyres in danger, too? Or just me?"
Caitlyn wanted to say more, but sensed him coming. It terrified her, so she did what came natural while looking fondly at her best friend.
* * *
Frances lifted a brow with amazement as Caitlyn vanished, as did the ominous words she'd written.
Before she could even begin to digest the meaning of it all, Frances found herself staring into the face of Vance McIntyre.
"What was that about us being in some sort of danger?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" She feigned innocence.
"I thought I heard you ask someone if the McIntyres were in danger." Vance gazed at her stoically. "Who were you talking to?"
Frances had to say something other than she'd been talking to a ghost.
She smiled crookedly. "Oh don't mind me. I tend to ramble to myself. When I said you were in danger, I meant of being hooked on this wonderful old house, given that the previous occupants left so abruptly before we could get to know them."
"I see." Vance scanned the study as if looking for someone who may b
e hiding. He turned back to Frances. "So what are you doing in here anyway?"
Frances picked up the book she dropped on the floor and put it back on the shelf. "I went to powder my nose and then, remembering this study from many years ago, thought I might take a peek for old times' sake. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," he said warmly. "Feel free to come by anytime you like, Frances."
"Thank you, Vance, I will." Frances was sure she had overstayed her welcome. "Well, I'd better go see if the kids have gotten back from swimming yet. The bay is so beautiful at this time of year."
"Yes, it is." Vance smiled at her.
"After Frances left the room, his smile turned into a dark scowl. Vance looked around the room again, searching for someone he didn't expect to find.
* * *
"I saw her--I saw Caitlyn!" Lily's grandmother told a stunned Peyton, as they sat on her front porch.
Peyton's eyes widened. "When...? Where...?"
"In the study," Frances replied.
"Really?" Lily leaned forward from a rocker.
Lily's grandmother nodded. "I thought if Caitlyn would show up anywhere, it would be there. But, truthfully, when it happened, I was in a state of shock."
"Did she say anything?" Peyton asked. "I mean, or communicate in her own way?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, she did," Frances said. "Words were carved into the floorboards. It was incredible..." She sighed, frowning. "Caitlyn warned me to get out of the house. Said it wasn't safe for me to be there."
Peyton's heart skipped a beat. "Was she saying something bad was going to happen?"
Lily's grandmother pursed her lips thoughtfully. "That's just it--I'm not quite sure if she meant I wasn't welcome because of what happened there in the past or that there was present danger to be concerned with."
"That sounds pretty ambiguous to me," Lily said. "I feel sort of left out not seeing the ghost of Caitlyn for myself."
"Well, it's not exactly something I'd recommend as an adventure," Peyton indicated.
Frances concurred. "Spirits don't present themselves simply for our amusement. They come when they're in a state of unrest or have a message they wish to convey. Unfortunately, it's not always a clear message. In any event, before I could try and get more out of my dear old friend, Vance came into the room and she left."
Peyton flinched. "Like Caitlyn was afraid of my stepfather?"
"Not necessarily. Could be he scared her off simply because she didn't wish to be seen by him. Or she may have been called away by another spirit."
"So should I be worried or not?" Peyton had hoped that this whole thing just might go away once she'd learned more about Caitlyn's fate fifty years ago.
Frances rubbed the back of her hand. "I think you should be careful, dear," she said. "But I wouldn't read too much into this. When you get right down to it, ghosts are usually harmless in their ability to actually hurt people in the living world. If Caitlyn has reason to fear someone, such as her father--or even your stepfather--it's because she's trapped in a past life and may not be able to differentiate that time from now."
"So you're safe, Peyton," Lily said happily. "Whew! I don't even want to think about something unearthly happening to my best friend in Shadow Bay."
"That makes two of us," Peyton assured her, breathing a sigh of relief for the time being.
"Promise me we'll stay friends once I return home."
"I promise." Peyton hugged her. "Between texting and video chats, there's no reason for us to lose touch."
Peyton liked Lily and meant every word she'd said. After all, she had kept her long distance friendship with Erica alive through those very means, in spite of Vance's efforts to the contrary.
"Cool," Lily said with a big smile.
Peyton smiled back, turning to Lily's grandmother, whose eyes twinkled.
Her mind drifted back to Caitlyn, and Peyton had an uneasy feeling that her spirit was trying to deliver an ominous message.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The rain showed no sign of letting up as Peyton stood outside the house getting soaked. Strangely, she did not feel cold from the wetness penetrating her nightgown. Though her legs felt heavy, Peyton managed to lift her bare feet and move them slowly toward the house.
A flash of lightning momentarily broke through the darkness, illuminating a bedroom window upstairs, and was quickly followed by the booming sound of thunder. For a split second Peyton thought she saw the silhouette of a girl standing there, but dismissed it as a trick of nature.
After all, why would some girl be in her bedroom?
When she entered the house, Peyton heard what sounded like a heated exchange of words coming from upstairs. As though spellbound, she headed in that direction, her heart pounding louder and louder with each step.
She stopped outside her mother and stepfather's room, listening for a moment to them arguing.
Peyton pushed open the door and entered.
The quarreling came to an abrupt halt as if on command. Peyton suddenly found herself the center of attention. She looked at the bed and saw her mother sitting up, semi covered by the blanket, with a look of stark terror in her eyes that sent a shiver through Peyton.
She looked now at her stepfather, who stood at the foot of the bed. Vance's face was contorted with fury. He was holding a shotgun, one that looked all too familiar to Peyton, though she couldn't quite remember where she had seen it before.
From the corner of her eye, Peyton detected movement. Turning in that direction, she was shocked to see Luke Neville standing there. He was stone-faced, wearing only jeans.
"What's going on here?" Peyton asked, gazing directly at her stepfather.
"This doesn't concern you!" he responded brusquely.
She looked past him to her mother. "Mom..."
"Get out of here, Peyton," she pleaded frantically.
"No, I won't!"
"Have it your way then," Vance stated savagely.
He turned the shotgun toward Luke and, without hesitation, fired. Peyton watched in horror as a gaping hole appeared in Luke's chest just before the impact sent him reeling.
"You shot Luke!" Peyton screamed at Vance, the implications of the moment beginning to hit her like a huge boulder.
"He got what he deserved!" Vance snapped angrily. "And so will she--"
Peyton's heart nearly stopped when she realized he had turned the shotgun on her mother.
"No! You can't do this, Vance. Please!" Peyton begged desperately.
Vance growled like a lion. "Watch me!"
"Peyton, get away, please--" her mother cried out.
Not knowing what else to do, Peyton stepped in front of her stepfather and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun.
"I won't let you kill mom!" she declared, feeling her knees wobbling.
"Don't be a fool, girl," he spat. "Let it go!"
"No," Peyton challenged him. "Run, Mom, run..."
She heard her mother apparently attempting to untangle herself from the covers. But Peyton's primary focus was trying to hold onto the gun, while her stepfather seemed equally determined to regain total possession of it.
"Do as I say, Peyton." His features were pinched with rage. "I'm warning you--!"
"No, Vance," she rejected his command. "You don't know what you're doing."
Peyton tried valiantly to keep the gun pointed away from the bed as her stepfather fought to aim it at his intended target. In the process, the gun barrel ended up tucked beneath her ribcage. She sought to push it away, and then Peyton heard a booming sound and realized she had been shot. She slumped to the floor in total shock. Blood was pouring from the hole in her stomach like running water.
Feeling helpless and paralyzed with fear, Peyton watched Vance turn the shotgun away from her without even a second glance and aim it at her mother, who had managed to get one foot on the floor before another shot was fired. The force of it drove her back onto the bed in an awkward position, whereby she was suddenly very still.
Peyton screamed till she grew lightheaded, and then there was only blackness.
When she opened her eyes again, Peyton couldn't see anything, but she was moving. Someone was carrying her. It wasn't until a glimmer of moonlight emerged through a small crack that Peyton realized she was within the walls of the house. She must have been taken into the secret passageway in the study.
By whom? Where were they going?
Outside, the rain fell on Peyton's face. Stickiness coated her nightgown and then it all started to come back.
Peyton's stepfather had shot Luke, then her, and then her mother. Now Vance was carrying her, and he was heading towards the bay.
Instinctively, as though she had lived through this before, Peyton implored him through strained vocals, "Please, don't do this, Vance..."
"Shh..." he responded quietly. "It'll all be over with soon."
"Nooooooo!" Peyton protested. She tried to break free, but was too weak and wounded and he was too strong and resolute.
Peyton felt powerless as Vance held her close to his body while he walked out into the bay as far as he could go, before they both went under. As she thrashed wildly, her stepfather maintained his firm grip and Peyton opened her mouth to scream, but it quickly filled with water, nullifying sound.
I'm going to die in the bay just like Caitlyn. I'll never see Bry again to tell him I love him. And I won't have a future to look forward to--maybe with Bry.
Peyton began to grow weaker and weaker, her resistance less and less. She couldn't breathe and could barely even think anymore.
She was certain death would come at any moment...
* * *
Peyton was hitting her pillow, believing she was fighting Vance to keep from drowning. She tried to catch her breath while coughing at the same time, as if she'd ingested bay water.
I can't believe it didn't really happen. Vance was not the boogeyman after all.
Peyton sat up, adjusting her eyes to the wee hours of the morning darkness. This was the first time her recurring dream had involved her family. And Luke.
Was it just some weird mixture of everything that had been going on in this house, past and present?
Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery Page 12
