Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery

by Flowers, R. Barri

  "That shotgun Vance has was in the dream, Mom," she whispered. "It's the same one he used to shoot you, me, and Luke..."

  Melody drew a ragged breath. "That's impossible."

  "Don't you find the fact that he brings home this old shotgun after I had the nightmare about his killing rampage just a bit creepy?"

  "No, I don't," she responded flatly. "We've been over this, Peyton. Your dream is not our reality. It did not make Vance purchase the shotgun with the intent to kill me, you, or even Luke. As it is, he told me about his advertising campaign with the shotgun last week--well before your nightmare. So, you see, this was not some sort of omen that you had."

  Peyton sighed. Was her convoluted dream about Vance taking the place of Byron St. Claire as a killer way off base?

  Am I spooking everyone for no reason?

  "I'm sorry, Mom," she said, knowing her apparently false accusations against Vance would put a definite strain on things again. "It's just that when I saw the shotgun...I guess I let my imagination get carried away with itself."

  Her mother hugged her supportively. "I'll talk to Vance. Everything will be fine."

  Peyton wasn't too sure about that, for reasons she could not explain. Her mother kissed her cheek.

  "I hope so," Peyton said.

  "We're all still trying to adjust to living in Shadow Bay," she said. "It'll just take some time before you feel totally relaxed here and the dreams disappear for good. Now go wash up. Dinner will be ready shortly."

  Peyton wondered if she would ever get past the negative dreams and bad vibes surrounding this house. Something told her that might be a tall order as long as restless spirits remained within the walls.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "That's just way too bizarre," Erica said when Peyton told her about the dream and Vance's shotgun.

  "Tell me about it," muttered Peyton in FaceTime over the phone. Not wanting to burden Bryant with it, she couldn't dare bring this stuff up to girls she'd just met at school.

  The last thing Peyton needed was to be seen as new and nutty to others. And while her mother was convinced there was nothing to worry about, she still had a gut feeling that something bad was about to happen.

  "So, like you really believe your stepdad plans to shoot you and your mom...and Bry's dad?"

  "Yes, no...I don't know," Peyton said, her legs outstretched across the bed. "Maybe I'm just freaking out about nothing. But it seems like there's been a pattern to the dreams and the appearances by Caitlyn. And she did warn Lily's grandmother that the house wasn't safe. What if Caitlyn was trying to tell her the same thing that happened fifty years ago on September 6th would happen again this year?"

  "That's scary, Peyton," Erica uttered. "Having my best friend murdered by the reincarnation of a dead psycho killer gives me the shakes."

  "Me, too. I don't even want to think about it."

  "Well can't you go to the cops or something?"

  "Yeah, right. And tell them what? That the new girl in town, who supposedly saw a girl in the bay that nobody else did, now believes her stepfather's planning to murder his family and kill himself--reminiscent of a similar crime fifty years ago. Oh, and he's going to do it with a shotgun that I dreamt about before Vance ever bought it. After they laughed their heads off, the police would probably lock me up as a public nuisance or a danger to myself."

  Erica moaned. "So what then--you just sit back and wait till it happens?"

  "I don't know that it will happen," Peyton said, feeling frustrated. "Not much I can do at this point other than hope the warning signs of trouble ahead are just part of my overactive imagination. My mom, who would be the primary victim of any such violence, doesn't seem the least bit concerned. And I doubt that Bry's dad would believe he was in danger either, not based on my communication with the dead and buried. So I guess I'll just have to wait it out and hope for the best."

  "And what about Bry?"

  "What about him?"

  "Does he know you think his dad might be in danger?"

  "I haven't told him about what some would call my silly omen," Peyton confessed. "Not exactly what you want to bring up with your boyfriend between kisses."

  "But don't you think you should--silly or not?" Erica practically demanded. "I would if it were my guy's dad. At least Bry could be prepared for the possibility rather than caught completely off guard. If nothing happens, then you can play it off as just some big misunderstanding. Either way you'd be covered."

  "You're right," Peyton said. Whether it was risky or not to bring it up to Bryant, she owed it to him and Luke to share her concern with them. Even if she came across as going too far in her supernatural ramblings to the guy she was in love with.

  Better safe than very sorry.

  Peyton chatted a bit longer with Erica, who managed to cheer her up in spite of the weighty subject matter. Erica promised to call on September 6th to make sure no one had run into harm's way.

  For Peyton, that day couldn't come and go fast enough for more reasons than one. She felt like crying, knowing it would be the third anniversary of her father's death. It was the type of heartache she wouldn't wish on anyone.

  Peyton also wouldn't want anyone to have to go through the anguish Caitlyn St. Claire had fifty years ago.

  Least of all my own family.

  * * *

  The next day during lunch hour at school, Peyton and Bryant sat at a table outside. She'd told him she wanted to talk, keeping him in suspense and her nerves on edge.

  "What's up?" He lifted an apple from his tray and bit off a chunk.

  "It's probably nothing," she prefaced uneasily, "but I wanted to mention it anyway."

  His gaze narrowed. "Sounds serious. More problems with Caitlyn or the house?"

  "Not exactly."

  This was much harder than Peyton wanted it to be. And just when things were going so good between them. What would he think now?

  "Then what?" he asked anxiously.

  She sighed, putting her tuna sandwich down. "My stepfather brought a shotgun home yesterday. He said it was for an ad campaign--"

  "Yeah, so?" Bryant urged her along.

  "So the night before I had a dream about Vance using such a gun to, uh...shoot me, my mother...and your dad--"

  He arched his brows. "You mean like Byron St. Claire shot his wife, Caitlyn, and the caretaker fifty years ago?"

  "Yes," she gulped. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I really am worried that there's some connection between what happened then and what's happening now. Or what could happen in the future--"

  Bryant took another bite of the apple. "Are you saying you think my dad and your mom are--?"

  "No, I'm not saying that," Peyton made clear. "I know they're not having an affair. Problem is...I'm afraid that this simple fact may get lost in the shuffle if history is determined to repeat itself."

  "I'm not sure I'm following you--"

  She made herself look into his eyes. "Okay, I know I'm not making much sense, but I believe it's possible that Byron St. Claire is pulling the strings somehow--with Caitlyn and me just pawns--setting the stage for another horrible crime in that house on September 6th."

  "Wow, that's some theory." Bryant put the apple down, frowning. "If it were anyone else, I'd just dismiss it as crazy talk. But with the things that have been happening to you in that house...who knows?"

  "I don't want to freak you out or anything," Peyton said guiltily. "I mean, September 6th will probably pass without anything happening. I sure hope so. I just wanted to warn you and have you tell Luke to...I don't know, be extra careful that day. Maybe even stay away from the house--"

  "Okay, I'll do my part to make sure dad stays put that day." He paused. "Now I want you to do something for me..."

  Peyton held her breath. "What?"

  Bryant took her hand. "If nothing does happen that day, I want you to try and put the haunted house thing to rest. I believe you are somehow connected to Caitlyn's ghost. But you can't let her or the house
dictate your life by messing with your head. Otherwise you'll just be miserable. I don't want you to regret moving to Shadow Bay...or us being together--"

  "I don't regret coming here and I definitely don't regret meeting you, Bry."

  "Good. Same here, even if my girlfriend can communicate with ghosts and other unearthly types."

  Bryant chuckled to let Peyton know he was at least only half joking, then leaned over and kissed her. She kissed him back, treasuring the affection and the one thing in her life she could count on.

  Now she only wanted the next four days to come and go without any trouble.

  * * *

  By Friday, September 5th, Peyton was relieved there was no indication that anything out of the ordinary was going on. The tension between her and Vance had more or less subsided once he told her had taken the shotgun to work. It made Peyton believe that maybe she had gotten everyone, including Bryant, worked up over nothing. But with the stakes so high, Peyton would gladly have done the same thing all over again if she had to.

  After school she went for a run, wishing Bryant were beside her. But he was busy working on his car. Peyton couldn't complain, though, since it was the transportation that would take them to a movie on Sunday and then for something to eat. She was already counting down the hours and no longer dreading this Saturday.

  On the way back, Peyton ran into Lily's grandmother who was just coming home.

  "Hi, Mrs. Kramer," she called out.

  Frances smiled at her. "Hello, Peyton. How are you?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Good to hear." She looked at her with one brow cocked. "So no more visits from Caitlyn...or any other ghosts?"

  "None," Peyton uttered cheerfully. She started to tell her about the ominous latest dream and the shotgun, but decided there was no reason to.

  "That's wonderful. Perhaps the appearances and related occurrences have run their course and you won't be bothered anymore."

  "Yeah, that would be nice." Peyton hoped Caitlyn was finally at peace wherever she was.

  "I talked to Lily yesterday and she really misses you. Just as I do." Frances put her hand on Peyton's shoulder. "Promise me you'll come by every now and then and keep an old lady company?"

  "I promise," Peyton said, hugging her. "I like spending time with you."

  They said their goodbyes and Peyton ran the last paces home. She saw Luke come around the side of the house.

  "Hey there, young lady." He was holding a couple of mousetraps with dead mice in them.

  Eww. Gross! "Where did those come from?"

  "Caught them inside that secret passageway," Luke explained. "Been meaning to seal it off when I get the chance. Your parents think it's a good idea."

  "Yeah, maybe it is," Peyton conceded, knowing the passage was tied to the tragedy of the past. It would be best to put that behind them and bury whatever dark secrets it held forever. She thought about her dream where Luke was shot dead by Vance. The mere notion left Peyton feeling slightly off balance, though she now believed her fears were exaggerated.

  Luke cracked a smile. "Well, I'll just get these critters out of here."

  "Don't let me stop you." Peyton risked a furtive peek at the lifeless rodents.

  "By the way, if your mother or stepfather asks, I'll be out of touch till Sunday afternoon."

  "Oh...?"

  "Yeah. Bryant suddenly had this idea of the two of us doing the father-son camping thing for a couple of days while the weather's still fairly pleasant."

  "That sounds great." She grinned. "I'll let them know."

  Peyton suspected the camping trip was Bryant's way of erring on the side of caution in keeping his father out of harm's way, just in case her dream somehow became a living nightmare. While she wanted to say that it probably wasn't necessary after all to take it to that extreme, part of Peyton was happy that Luke and Bryant would be safe somewhere else till the day passed.

  * * *

  "I know you don't like broccoli, but eat it anyway," Peyton's mother prompted. "It's good for you."

  Peyton wrinkled her nose, though she could think of worse veggies. She broke off a piece and forced herself to take a small bite.

  "There, satisfied?"

  Melody smiled. "The first morsel is always the hardest."

  And the last morsel as far as Peyton was concerned.

  "Pass the rolls please, Peyton," Vance requested.

  She reached across the bowl of spaghetti and meatballs for the plate with wheat rolls.

  "So how's your ad campaign coming along?" Peyton thought to ask.

  "It's going according to plan," he said, sounding pleased. "The idea is to portray the family values of the 1960s in the twenty-first century."

  She gazed at him. "So how does a shotgun accomplish that?"

  Luke lifted a glass of cognac and sipped. "Well, it's simple in a complicated sort of way. The ad will feature a blue-collar worker with the gun by his side, surrounded by his family. What we hope to portray is a close-knit family with middle class values and a husband-father ready to protect his loved ones, if necessary, from anyone who would try to harm them."

  "Can't he protect them without using a shotgun?"

  "Of course. But that's not the point, Peyton. The shotgun is merely a prop, for effect. The real focus is on the love and loyalty of family that's not always found these days."

  "Well, I think it's a worthwhile campaign," Melody said. "Heaven knows we could use more love and family loyalty these days."

  "Whatever," muttered Peyton, as she wound spaghetti around her fork. In her opinion, promoting guns for any reason was a bad idea. But a sixteen-year-old didn't have much say in the ways of the world, especially the business world.

  At least the shotgun can't really hurt anyone, unlike the one in my dreams.

  "Say, I've got an idea." Melody looked at her daughter. "How would you feel about going back to San Diego next month for two or three days?"

  Peyton's eyes lit up. "You're serious?"

  "Absolutely. I know you miss your friends, especially Erica. I miss mine, too. It might be a good way to recharge the batteries."

  "I'd love it!"

  "Then we'll do it--just us girls, since I know Vance is too busy with work."

  "Don't I get a say in this?" Vance gazed across the table.

  "No," Peyton and her mother said in unison.

  He laughed. "So I guess it's settled. Seriously, I think it's a splendid idea. I know things have been tough on you here, Peyton, and I'm partly to blame for that. A change of scenery would do you some good. And your mother as well."

  Peyton was surprised her stepfather didn't try to stand in the way. Maybe he was mellowing before her very eyes. She liked him much better this way.

  "I think you're right," she said wholeheartedly.

  "I want this family to work and for both of you to be happy. If that means loosening the reins a bit, so be it," Vance said.

  Peyton smiled. For once she was totally on the same page with her mother and stepfather. She could hardly wait to give Erica the good news.

  A few days away from Bryant might seem like forever and Peyton would miss him. Maybe he could come with them and see San Diego for the first time.

  The mere possibility excited her even more. For now Peyton was just glad she could focus on something positive instead of history perhaps repeating itself in this house fifty years later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Peyton opened her eyes to a torrential downpour. She had no idea how she'd gotten from her bed to outside behind the house. She looked up in the darkness and saw the faint light coming from her mother and stepfather's room.

  What's going on? Why am I standing here in my nightgown getting soaked?

  Just then Peyton heard a dog barking, giving her a start. Turning, she saw Hugh run up to her. Bryant was close behind. He had on his clothes, unlike her, and was also drenched.

  "What are you doing out here in the rain?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure," sh
e admitted, and turned the question on him. "I thought you and Luke were going camping?"

  "Yeah, we were. But Mother Nature had another idea." He looked up at the sky before turning back to Peyton.

  "What's happening?" She was totally confused. "Am I dreaming this?"

  "Not unless we're both having the same dream," Bryant said, an edge to his voice. "My dad thought he heard a shot coming from your house. He went to check it out."

  "A shot--as in gunshot...?"

  "Yeah, maybe."

  "Oh no..." Peyton felt lightheaded as dark thoughts surfaced.

  "What?" Bryant appeared clueless.

  "Don't you see...it's happening like in my dream," she sputtered. "Your father, my mother, and stepfather all together, at night, in the bedroom--"

  Bryant peered at her. "What are you saying?"

  "Vance is going to kill them...then us!" Peyton was convinced. "We have to stop him!"

  Hugh barked as if in agreement.

  "I'm not sure about that," Bryant muttered. "But we'd better check it out anyway."

  He took Peyton's hand and headed to the house. Once they got closer, both noticed the opening to the secret passageway.

  "Dad must have used it to save time," Bryant speculated. "We'll do the same thing. Come on, boy!"

  Peyton could not believe what still seemed like another nightmare was very real this time.

  She led them through the passageway till they reached the opening to the study behind the bookcase.

  Please don't let us be too late.

  They could hear voices shouting. Peyton and Bryant scaled the stairs, followed closely by Hugh. When they reached the second story, Peyton hesitated for an instant, terrified of seeing her dream replayed in vivid, deadly color. But any such fear was replaced by the desire to prevent a terrible tragedy, and knowing Bryant was at her side.

  She burst through the door with Bryant and Hugh, immediately laying eyes on her stepfather at the foot of the bed. His dark eyes were slits, his mouth a tight line. The shotgun that was supposed to be a prop was in his hands.

  Hugh growled, baring his teeth at Vance, who appeared unaffected.