by Susan Conley
The mist began to dissipate again, seeping through the canvas, leaving a collage of undecipherable patterns staining the canvas in its wake. From her chair, Muriel called out sadly.
“I ache. Je faire.”
As the words faded away, Janice saw Muriel’s head slump to her chest. Immediately, Janice’s mind link with the spirit and the others severed completely. Janice’s knees gave way and she would have collapsed totally if not for Adrian’s tightening embrace. Moving with an agility she didn’t expect, he spun her around and deposited her into the folds of the deep cushions of the sofa. Wearily, he plopped down beside her, brushing at the beads of sweat coating his forehead.
Across the room, Muriel gave a soft groan and her plump body began to slide from the chair. Jasper bolted from his seat, snatching her up as she came awake. It was obvious by her expression she was shocked to find herself being propped stiffly into the chair. Janice saw her inspect Jasper’s face first and then her gaze sought each of them in succession.
“Damn, I’ve missed the best part, haven’t I? A ghost?”
Janice saw her look to Jasper for confirmation. He patted her hand and nodded.
“A rather pretty one, Muree.”
Muriel’s face lit up even though it was clear she was disappointed.
“Was I her voice? I seem to remember a very pretty voice somewhere far off.”
Jasper nodded again.
“My dear, you were wonderful. The star attraction.”
Muriel waved him away and Janice sensed her annoyance.
“Well, I’m mad as hell. I hate missing all the fun. I was so enjoying Adrian’s performance. Wouldn’t you think ghosts could learn better manners?”
“Or better timing,” Adrian muttered wryly.
Muriel was the only one to laugh at his sarcasm.
“Dear me, Adrian, has your ego been inconvenienced?”
Amused by her cheerful barb, Adrian laughed — the first genuine laugh Janice had heard him utter since they had met. It was undiluted, deep, warm and rich. Hearing it, she realized they had all been wrong about him. He was far kinder than he wanted anyone to know. She found the thought disturbing — what had happened to make him jaded and callous enough over the years to hide his kindness?
At the foot of the stage, Muriel pushed herself up from her chair, then gave a start when she caught sight of the red hue blazing outside the window.
“What’s happening outside? Is there a fire?”
All smiles vanished at once, no one eager to be the one to explain things to Muriel just yet. Sensing their reluctance, she re-sat herself murmuring softly.
Jasper patted her hand and an uncomfortable silence descended now that the shared danger was at an end. For a moment, each stared out the window, mesmerized by the fiery red glow. And then a thunderous pounding erupted from the window seat box stage right, startling them all and sending Adrian to his feet with an anxious shout.
“Ginger!”
Lloyd sprang forward with Adrian, Janice following on their heels. Ginger’s cries were muted from the box at first, unintelligible, but as Adrian flung back the seat cover, she exploded in venomous rage.
“Damn you to hell, Adrian! How dare you lock me inside this box! You made me pass out! I near suffocated.” She hauled up her crinolines and climbed over the edge of the box. Tripping slightly, she knocked Adrian’s hand away as he offered help. “I suppose you think that was damn funny.”
“Ginger, I can explain.”
“It had better be good.”
She took a stance so intimidating Janice thought even the bravest of heroes would wither under the scrutiny. That Adrian was rattled by it was clear; he struggled to find adequate words to describe the last few minutes. Janice didn’t envy him. Nor could she help him. She hadn’t the foggiest notion of how to tell a rational, sensible woman that she had just missed conversing with a ghostly apparition. Finally, out of sheer desperation Janice supposed, Adrian settled for the truth.
“Oh, hell, Ginger. The illusion was stopped by a ghost. She broke my concentration.”
The slap was so unexpected and thrown with such incredible force that Janice almost felt its impact from where she stood. Though Adrian had been struck, it was she who took a step back, while the others remained frozen in place at the bottom of the stage ramp. The silence in the room became as chilled as a sheet of glazed ice. Ginger’s eyes never left Adrian’s face as she railed.
“I’m not some dumb bimbo you picked up outside your stage door, Adrian. Don’t you ever treat me again as if I were.”
She moved then, storming past the trio, down the ramp and toward the exit door. Halfway down the solarium, she spotted the red glow outside the window and veered sharply toward it. The group dashed after her, calling a simultaneous warning. Lloyd was the first to reach her; however, he was a fraction of a second too late as he made a grab for her hand to prevent it colliding with the glass pane. A red electrical charge snaked out and swiped at her fingertips. Ginger jumped back, too stunned to cry out. Eyes wide as saucers, she inched her way backward, slamming into Janice who steadied her. From the look on her face, Janice knew she needed rational confirmation that she wasn’t hallucinating. Her gaze finally swung from the window to Janice.
“We’re trapped?”
“Yes.”
“By a ghost?”
“Yes.”
Her gaze flew to Adrian for comfort but Janice saw his stare was centered on the red glow outside. By the stoic set of his shoulders, it was clear he wasn’t going to forgive Ginger for the slap. Ginger’s face fell and Janice’s maternal instincts kicked in. She stifled an urge to kick Adrian in the shins for his brutal hostility. He had no right to be so ugly to Ginger, or blame her for what had transpired. It wasn’t her fault. It was none of their faults.
Draping an arm around Ginger, Janice squeezed her shoulders in sympathy.
“We were all powerless to stop what occurred. Even Adrian, as brilliant a psychic as he is.”
Muriel shadowed her other side, slipping an arm around Ginger’s waist.
“Janice is right. It was out of our hands. Even if you had been awake, it wouldn’t have done any good.”
A tearful sob escaped Ginger’s lips as she embraced their waists in gratitude. Together, the trio turned and faced the window. Beyond the pane, the night sky fired up, turning an even brighter, angrier shade of red.
Chapter 11
FRIDAY — 10:30 PM
Wake up! The stark command sizzled through Janice’s brain and she came full awake, almost tumbling off the window seat she was perched on. Heart racing, she righted herself and swung her gaze to the dimly lit room behind her. Had she heard Lloyd’s voice? Squinting, she surveyed the shadows. Nothing. There had been no human voice calling, she realized, only her own inner voice chiding her to stay awake until the men came back from their foraging. She nibbled at her lower lip, wondering how long before the men would return. It had been an hour since they had disappeared into the main part of the chateau on a scouting expedition. What had they found? She shook her head, not at all sure she really wanted to know.
Nothing had changed outside the window in the last hour either. The fiery red glow stood vigil outside the solarium window, guarding them and the house. Prisoners! The word chilled her and Janice bit her lip again, this time tasting blood. Uncurling her feet from beneath her, she let them slide to full length along the window seat ledge. She felt the heated vibration on her pant leg and shifted her legs away. Oh no, you don’t, she admonished the glow silently. Once was enough.
Leaning her head back against the window frame, she sighed deeply. She knew in times of crises someone always seemed to remain calm and rational while everyone else involved fell to pieces. But why did it have to be her? She let her gaze travel to the reclining figures stretched out on the sofas pulled a fe
w yards from where she sat and knew why. She was holding herself together for Muriel and Ginger’s benefit. For some inexplicable reason, she felt compelled to mask her growing anxieties from the women and project a confidence they could rely on. The question now was could she maintain the mask indefinitely?
She gave a sudden shiver, wondering if the purpose of this crazy situation was to sacrifice a human life for … what had Lisette’s spirit said? The release of her soul? Janice pushed the terrifying thought away. No, the spirit hadn’t seemed revengeful or heartless, only in great pain.
Turning her head, Janice rested her other cheek on her knees. She stared into the dark shadows of the room and felt her eyelids flutter wearily. Sleep, blessed sleep. If only she could succumb to its entreaty. Her eyelids flickered open immediately. She mustn’t sleep. Not until the men came back and she knew for sure how hopelessly stuck they were.
The human shadow came so quietly across the space that at first Janice thought she had imagined it. But as it neared and took form, she reared her head up quickly. Lloyd! In a flash, she was off the window seat and by his side. Her rapid movement alerted the two women on the sofas, who also sprang up.
“Anything?” Janice asked as the trio circled his form.
His expression was one of defeat.
“Nothing. It’s the same all over. The energy field is everywhere, blocking every window and exit.” His defeat changed to distress and Janice touched his arm.
“What is it, Lloyd? Are you ill?”
His expression grew more distressed and Janice sensed an inner panic within him.
“I can’t find Suzie, the serving girl who set the buffet. I’ve searched thoroughly. Nothing.”
“The glow outside has probably frightened her into hiding,” Muriel suggested. “She looked awfully young.”
“Barely out of her teens.” His scowl deepened. “What if she takes refuge in a hiding place?”
His meaning was clear and Janice found herself fumbling blindly for a chair to drop into.
“You do know where all the crawlspaces are, don’t you, Lloyd?”
He didn’t answer but stiffened at the question. Janice licked her lips nervously again. God, sometimes history repeated itself. Sometimes a spirit took a fiendish delight in creating déjà vu. She pushed the thought away as Ginger sank into a chair alongside her, dusting her hands nervously.
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“Still searching. They’ve gone to investigate the chapel on the top floor.” Lloyd fell silent and Janice saw his brooding scowl. She reached out and squeezed his hand.
“You mustn’t blame yourself for what’s occurred, Lloyd.”
“Of course I’m to blame,” he barked. “There were warning signs I simply ignored. I’m gifted. I can read people as easily as they read their watches. Why didn’t I see this coming?” He pounded his leg in emphasis. “I should’ve seen this coming.”
The self-censure in his voice touched Janice and she wished she had answers to give him. Since she didn’t, she felt it best to turn all their minds to something more constructive.
“What do you suppose is on the other side of that red field?” she asked. “I mean, what are the people across the water seeing when they look this way?”
“That’s an odd tack on things,” Lloyd declared. Janice knew her diversion had worked.
“But important.”
“How so, my dear?” Muriel asked.
“Is the glow we see real?” Janice responded. “Or are our minds being cleverly manipulated to make it seem so?”
She heard Lloyd’s snort as he tossed his head.
“The force field is real. Just ask Ginger there. When she made to touch it, it leapt out and sniped at her. You saw it. She felt the charge.”
Ginger shivered beside her and Janice knew Adrian’s assistant would rather not remember that moment.
“You think we’re imagining all this?” Muriel asked. “All of us linked somehow to experience the same vision as reality, like the headaches?”
“Part of me suspects that. But the energy that it would take to sustain the vision for seconds at a time, not to mention a full hour … no, I don’t think we could do it. One of us would give way. Crack under the mental strain.”
“We’re exceptional psychics, Jan,” Lloyd reminded her bitterly.
Janice shook her head.
“No, there’s only one exceptional psychic here, Lloyd, and that’s Adrian Magus. The rest of us have only one specific talent. He has myriad skills.”
Lloyd finally took a seat and hunched over, interrupting Janice.
“Adrian is a clever illusionist, nothing more.”
Janice gave him a black-layered look.
“How can you be so obtuse after sitting through his performance? The man transforms matter, Lloyd. He is a telepath, has precognition … he knew what was coming. I swear it. I saw it. It was in his hands.”
Lloyd scoffed with a wave.
“He was paralyzed by the pain like the rest of us. He succumbed to it.”
“But he moved through it all. While we were rooted to our chairs and to the pain, he moved through it. He knew before any of us that Lisette was coming across and he sensed at once she was looking for me. He sensed danger long before we did. Only an exceptional psychic could do that.”
“So, what’s your point?”
“Lisette asked Adrian if he understood her words to me.”
“And he denied knowing their meaning. I believe him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” Janice shrugged. “Jasper says throughout his life, Adrian has had a recurring vision of a red-headed woman. He says it’s me, but in the portrait gallery earlier, you mentioned how much I reminded you of Lisette. Suppose Adrian’s image in reality is Lisette? Suppose she planted it there?” She broke off, seeing the determined shake of Lloyd’s head. “Well, why not?”
“Because the image was you, Janice. I’ve seen it.”
“You’ve seen it? Where? When?”
He didn’t answer right away and Janice knew the question made him uncomfortable. She watched a range of emotions ebb and flow across his face before he finally gave a shrug and answered.
“Interrogating Adrian in Iraq was hell. He was on overload, absorbing the volatile emotions of the soldiers dying around him. As a parapsychologist, I did what I could to help under the circumstances, saw to it he was shipped home, but not before I garnered a brief glance of the image. It was you, but I never put two and two together. Not even after you and I met at the university. In fact, I never realized you were that woman until tonight when I saw the look on Adrian’s face as you walked in to dinner. Everything clicked in place, like the glass shattering.”
Janice’s heart skipped a beat.
“It was a forewarning none of us picked up on,” Lloyd continued. “Adrian wasn’t holding that glass tight. We all saw that. Still it shattered. Why?” He leaned in closer, his gaze steady. “Do you remember feeling anything unusual at the time, Janice?”
“Unusual?” Janice hoped the question sounded thoughtful, because inside her chest, her heart was beginning a strange tattoo along her ribcage and her lungs were beginning to constrict rapidly, like they always did when she prepared to tell a lie. Should she tell Lloyd about her mind link with Adrian? And the brief image of limbs entwined in sexual combat? She studied the inquisitive face leaning into her, waiting patiently for her answer. No, she couldn’t tell Lloyd. The image was too disturbing. At first, she had surmised the entwined limbs were hers and Adrian’s. But, now that Lisette had revealed her need to be reunited with Aubert, it was possible she and Adrian had tapped into Lisette and Aubert sharing an extremely pleasurable interlude. But she had to be sure before confiding.
“Janice?”
“Sorry. I was
trying to relive the incident to see if there was anything useful for us to know about it. I can’t think of a thing. It happened so rapidly. Perhaps, Adrian could offer more. You might ask him.”
“That question will have to wait.” Muriel stated. “Our first priority has to be figuring out Lisette’s time line before she died. Tell us about her, Lloyd. How did she die?”
“Most people would want to know how she lived,” Lloyd countered.
“Well, then, how did she live? Who was she?”
“She was the Earl of Montagne’s first cousin. Spent her early life tucked away in a cold-as-ice convent. Her parents betrothed her to Baron Dumas when she was nine, he twenty. He owned a fleet of cargo ships. Sailed the waters to and from America for years and came to love the savagery of the new land. He decided to make his fortune and future here so he bought land and built Witchwood. When Lisette was eighteen, he sent for her, arranged a mammoth wedding.”
“Sounds like an idyllic love story,” Ginger interjected. “Boy meets girl, boy gets girl. What went wrong?”
“The records are sketchy but I’ve managed to piece together some of what must have occurred. They were to be married in the chapel upstairs. The day of the wedding, the staff rose early, eager to get a head start on the wedding preparations. You can imagine the scullery maid’s terror when she found the baron’s severed head sitting atop the banister stairwell. Her blood-curdling screams echoed up three levels of stairs. They found the baron’s upper torso in the West wing’s library. His lower torso rested in the East wing master bedroom.”
Janice gave an uncontrollable shiver.
“Mutilation?”
“Hmm. Gruesome, isn’t it?”
“Too much so. And Lisette?”
He gave an impatient shrug.
“Disappeared without a trace.”
“Locked in a crawlspace, you mean,” Janice replied. “Terrified and hiding. But from whom, do you think?”
Lloyd shook his head and Janice knew he had no answer. Leaning back, she realized their survival depended on learning the answer to who had killed the baron. It was somewhere through a heavy mist. Could they break through it?
