“I’ve never seen it, and I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Maybe you didn’t notice or know what to look for. I come across lost spirits all the time. They’re just passing through, but then it flashed to the right of me in the opposite of the direction I needed to go. I put my left blinker on and it flashed in front of me again and jumped to the right.”
Holly shook her head. “And you turned right and went to a cemetery because a green light bobbed that way?”
Angel nodded. “I’ve had spirits follow me home if I ignored them.”
“It led me a mile or so down the road to a beautiful old cemetery surrounded by a wrought-iron fence and behind a locked gate. In the beams of my headlights, I could see about twenty or so tombs, tilted and cracked. The grounds overgrown. No new tombs.”
“No new tombs because no one has been buried there since my family sold it before my mother or even my grandmother was born. It’s the old Holly Grove family cemetery. I tried to get the owner to let me take the people who stay here to visit the tombs, but he wanted to charge admission, which sounded kind of crass, so that didn’t happen.”
“Probably for the best. I sense a restlessness. Disturbance. The orb floated over the tombs. I sensed the spirit was trying to show me something important, but then the orb disappeared. I thought the spirit was just passing through until it signaled me to turn in at Holly Grove.”
“Are you saying a spirit wouldn’t let you leave?”
“Not alone.”
* * *
Nelda opened the back door and stuck her head out. “Folks is lookin’ for y’all.”
Thomas stood behind Nelda with a distressed look on his face. Probably worried about his investment. “Is everything okay?”
Holly nodded. Though it wasn’t okay. She had no idea how this séance would go. Potential unknown ghost. Sylvia testing her acting chops? A few well-placed traps to suggest a bit of haunting. Surely some of it would work. Maybe.
Angel took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “The spirits are with me.”
“I just hope they stay with you, especially if they’re troubled,” Holly said as she walked toward the door.
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Nelda stepped onto the porch and hefted her purse over her shoulder. “I’m goin’ home to my big fat recliner and my blessed house, where the only spirit is the Holy Ghost.”
Holly and Angel slipped in the back of the darkened dining room unnoticed while Sylvia had the command of the guests who had congregated in the entrance hall.
“I can’t believe that woman would just leave without a word. As much as I want to protect my good reputation, I’m afraid we’re going to have to cancel this shoot,” Sylvia said. “Unfortunately, my option expires in just a few days. We can’t possibly reschedule.”
Angel flipped the lights on, then off.
“Angel,” Sylvia said with genuine shock in her voice. “We thought you’d abandoned us.”
Without saying a word, Angel took her seat at the head of the table as Holly lit the votive candles.
Tru ambled into the dining room first. “Cold feet?”
“Not at all,” Holly said. “A spirit called to her and she had to answer.”
“Yeah, right.” He settled into a side chair next to Angel.
Bob and Liz took their places in the corners of the room.
Sam checked his watch. “It’s going to be midnight before we get this thing done.”
“What’s the matter?” Miss Alice asked. “Past your bedtime?”
“I did a little research, and midnight is often the time séances are held,” Thomas said, sliding into a chair.
The familiar sound of the screen door slamming on the porch registered with Holly. Everyone who was supposed to be there sat at the table. Who was on her back porch? The flutter in her chest raised hope Jake had finally made it. A few more whacks against the screen door doused that hope. The wind must have caught the screen door. Nice touch for a séance if the wind keeps up.
“You better go latch that screen,” Miss Alice said. “All that flapping will loosen the hinges.”
Well, horse hockey. That woman could hear a gnat break wind forty feet away.
“You wouldn’t want any false bumps in the night, or would you?” Tru smirked at Holly.
She stood and pulled her shoulders back, then glared at Tru. “Nelda just left. She couldn’t possibly latch the screen from outside.”
Holly spun on her heel and marched across the antique rug in the dining room. Tru is trying to poison everyone’s mind to believe I’m rigging the séance and I had nothing to do with the screen door. Largely, because I didn’t think of it. Dang it. When she charged through the kitchen door, Nelda jumped.
“Jumping Jehoshaphat!” She stood with her hand covering her heart, her hair blown wild, and a box of salt in her other hand. “Don’t sneak up on me like that with a séance goin’ on and all.”
“I thought you went home.” Holly pointed to Nelda’s hair. “And what happened to . . .”
“My car quit right after I got out of the parkin’ lot smack in the middle of the driveway at the front door.” Nelda smoothed her hair. “The wind ’bout blew my hair off my head while I was trying to jiggle the cables on my battery. I poured a fully leaded Coke on it too.”
“Are you going to try salt on the battery now?” Holly asked.
Nelda looked at the salt like she’d forgotten she held it. “Nah. I called one of my nephews to come jump-start the car.”
“You should have come and gotten me.”
Nelda grunted. “For what? I never known you to know much about a car ’cept where to put the gas.”
“True.” And sometimes she’d run her truck on fumes before she noticed the gauge.
“Besides,” Nelda leveled an eye at Holly. “I didn’t want to bust up in there and see somethin’ I can’t unsee.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you on a nasty night like tonight.” Holly took Nelda by the arm. “You go up to my room to dry off and wait for your nephew.”
“It ain’t the weather that’s bothering me tonight.” Nelda waved her off and ambled toward the back door. “It’s the ghost y’all might call up. Ain’t no way, I’m stayin’ in this house for that.”
Holly followed her to the door. “You’d rather be outside alone?”
“I got protection.” Nelda shook the box of salt. “I’m shakin’ this ’round my car to protect me from any ghosts while I wait.”
Holly sighed. Salt hadn’t done a thing to keep Burl away, but she hadn’t had the heart to tell Nelda that back then. “Suit yourself.”
With a wave over her shoulder, Nelda stepped out on the porch and out the screen door.
Holly latched the screen behind her and took a deep breath before turning around to go back to the séance. She only hoped it had as much of a chance of conjuring up a ghost as Nelda thought it did or at least Sylvia could give a convincing performance.
“Are you okay?” Thomas asked, poking his head into the kitchen. A crease folded between Thomas’s gray brows.
Thoughtful or impatient? Hard to tell. “I’m fine.” Holly looked back over her shoulder. “Nelda had some car trouble.”
“Anything I can do?” he asked.
“She has help coming.” Holly crossed the kitchen to him. “We better get back in there.”
Thomas trailed Holly back to the dining room and pulled her chair out for her, next to Tru and then sat across from her.
“Okay, now that everyone is here,” Liz said. “A few ground rules.”
Holly cast a glance at Sylvia.
She gave a barely perceptible nod.
“First, we’ll have an intro,” Liz said. “I’ve given you instructions about what to do at a séance.” Liz zeroed in on Tru. “You are to stand in the back as an observer. We’ll interview you after the séance for your rebuttal. Understood?”
“What?” He opened his mouth wide in fake shock. “
I can’t be in the circle, chanting and calling to the dead?”
“Your energy would not be conducive to a good connection with the spirit world,” Angel said in a sedate tone.
Tru got up and leaned against the sideboard and crossed his arms.
“Take your position to make your entrance,” Liz said to Sylvia.
She stepped out of sight into the entrance hall.
“In five, four, three, two.” Bob counted down from behind the camera.
Sylvia paused for effect at the double-door opening. She stared right into the camera with her blue-tinted contacts. “Tonight, Inquiring Minds takes you back to ‘The Ghost in the Grove,’ where we met the ghost of B&B owner Holly Davis’s husband, Burl Davis. Though the evidence was overwhelming, one voice challenged the story.”
Bob aimed the camera at Tru.
“And,” Sylvia continued her pitch-perfect monologue, “we accepted that challenge by Truman Jeremiah Stalwort, III.”
What a mouthful. No wonder he goes by Tru.
Angel lifted her gaze above, then closed her eyes. “May the spirits be with us.”
Please make it so. One spirit. Any spirit. Or just a make-believe spirit. Don’t let this be the end of Holly Grove.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Holly’s throat tightened as Sylvia closed the pocket doors. The dining room fell to darkness except for the votive candles on the table and a slice of light peeking through the drapes from the gas lanterns on the porch.
It all came down to this night. Holly took shallow breaths to calm herself. She couldn’t do anything else to save her reputation. Would Angel declare the house clear of spirits? Could Sylvia pull off a hoax? Should Holly just confess now and save herself the humiliation of being exposed as a fraud? Soon the séance would begin and the fate of Holly Grove would be sealed, for good or bad.
As Holly’s eyes adjusted to the dark, the faces of everyone around the table came into view. Deep in the corner, a red dot glowed from Bob’s video camera. She guessed Liz was nearby. All she could see of Tru was a shadow propped against her walnut sideboard.
Angel sat—eyes closed—as though deep in meditation at one end of the table. Sylvia sat at the other end staring down her opponent as though she were in a boxing match.
“If we are to welcome spirits, we must open our minds and hearts to their souls, for that is all they have to give.” Angel said in a quiet but serious voice. She lifted her hands, palms up. “Join hands so that our spirits may work as one to summon the dead.”
Thomas’s cool hand took Holly’s and she put her hand in Angel’s warm hand. Miss Alice sat across from Holly and next to Sam. Sylvia sat at the other end of the table, completing the circle.
During the last séance, Holly had felt a definite sensation when they all joined hands. This time? Nada. Not good.
“Clear your mind of everything in the outside world,” Angel said in a rhythmic voice. “It doesn’t exist in this world. Let everything go and be present here as one.”
Still nothing, although Thomas’s hand did feel quite soft for a guy who considers carpentry therapy. Maybe he wears gloves.
“Please still your mind. I sense some of you are elsewhere.” Angel closed her eyes and tilted her face upward. “We are one in seeking the spirits of this room. We are one.” She rocked back and forth. “We are one. We are one. We are one.”
Everyone chanted with her. “We are one . . .” But Sylvia’s voice was the clearest and the loudest. She rocked back and forth in unison with Angel.
Sylvia couldn’t want even a whiff of a ghost to show up more than Holly did.
“Close your eyes. Become one. We are one . . .”
Holly found herself rocking back and forth as they chanted. A chill settled over her shoulders, right on time. The doors had been closed to the heating in the rest of the house for about fifteen or twenty minutes. She cracked an eye open to check out Tru. He wasn’t there.
“We are one. We are one.” The chant continued, minus one.
Holly squinted as she searched outside of their circle for Tru. The draft seemed to worsen around the back of her neck. Maybe something was happening? She glanced over her shoulder.
Tru stood, arms folded, close enough to breathe down her neck. The little troll tipped his fedora. The ire rushing through her veins cut through her prearranged chill.
Concentrate, Holly. “We are one . . .”
Angel stopped chanting. Her chest lifted and fell with each breath. “I sense a presence among us.”
Thomas squeezed her hand.
Did he feel something?
Miss Alice craned her neck as she cased her surroundings, then turned to Angel and asked. “Do you see something?”
If Angel did, she saw it in her mind because she never opened her eyes. “I feel it.”
“I don’t feel a thing.” Miss Alice leaned back in her chair.
“Don’t break the connection,” Angel whispered.
Holly studied her. Was she faking it? Which would be a good thing as far as Holly was concerned, but Angel had said the spirits she knew wouldn’t allow that. Holly closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on probably the most boring séance ever. Her “Ghost in the Grove” was so going to get debunked.
Angel moaned. “Oh, spirit world. I am your servant. Please make yourself known.”
Yes please. If you’re out there just pop in a minute. I’d be eternally grateful for a Girl Friday ghost or Guy Friday. A temp. Just for now.
The candle in front of Sam sputtered out. “Did y’all see that?”
The water and heat had made just enough steam to snuff the candle. Holly held her lips together to hide her smile. Science is a wonderful thing.
Angel’s eyes popped open. She stared straight ahead, above Sylvia’s head. Angel’s eyes widened and her breath came in shallow bursts. “I don’t understand. Speak to me.”
“Is he here?” Sylvia scooted to the edge of her chair. “Where?”
“The spirit is very weak. It cannot speak.” Angel continued to focus on the space above Sylvia’s head. “I sense desperate loneliness.”
“That’s right,” Sylvia nodded. “Burl and Holly aren’t speaking. I’m sure he does feel lonely since no one else can hear him.”
She turned to Holly. “Speak to your husband.”
“My ex. Well, nearly ex.” He just didn’t live long enough to sign the papers. Holly shifted in her chair. “Burl, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but please don’t take your anger out on these good people who have come to see you.”
That was just weird. If Burl were here, she’d see him. He’d never been shy about haunting her. She’d feel him. If there’s a spirit lurking about, it’s not Burl.
“The spirit is weak . . .” Angel closed her eyes again. “Forgotten.”
“I haven’t forgotten you, Burl.” Sylvia tilted her head upward and closed her eyes, mimicking Angel. “My body is strong. Use me to communicate.”
Another votive candle sputtered out in front of Thomas. He gave Holly a side-eye and squeezed her hand harder.
Angel’s mouth parted slightly and her eyes fluttered open. She fixed on something above Sylvia’s head again.
A pinpoint green light flashed above Sylvia’s head. Was that flash the orb Angel had followed earlier?
A collective gasp came from the table as they stared at where the dot had been.
Sylvia looked behind herself. “Was he here?”
Holly sat up straighter in her seat and willed the light to reappear.
“Just the remains of its aura.” Angel shook her head. “The spirit is fading.”
“He can’t go.” Sylvia’s body went rigid. “Burl wants to use my body.”
Lordy. That did sound like Burl, but it couldn’t be.
Sylvia grabbed her throat. “He says he’s lost his voice from not speaking for so long and will need to use mine.”
“But—
“I can’t stop him,” Sylvia said, cutting off Angel. She fl
ailed about and swayed.
Could it be? Holly exchanged glances with Angel, who gave a barely perceivable head shake.
Sylvia kicked her feet up on the table and splayed her arms over the chair back like a man. “My name is Burl Davis. I’m tired. I’m mad. I’m stuck here with the woman who owns this place.” Sylvia nodded toward Holly.
Way to make me look like a real witchy woman, Sylvia. Thanks a lot.
“I’m only speaking through Sylvia because I have a connection with her from the last time she visited.” Sylvia pointed to Holly. “She says we’re divorced, but I never signed any papers, so I’m not speaking to her or anyone else until she stops calling me her ex.”
That does sound like Burl. Dang. Sylvia has his character down like she knew him. There’s a reason she’s not a Hollywood star, but her acting was a better than Holly had expected. Maybe with some creative editing it will fool the viewers.
Sylvia pointed her finger at Holly. “Say it.”
“Huh? Me?” Holly pressed her hand over her heart. She was no actress, but she’d better play along. “You’re actually speaking to me now? Does that mean you’ll start showing up to haunt once in a while?”
Sylvia folded her arms. “Say you’re my widow?”
“Technically, I guess I am.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Sylvia’s legs fell from their perch on the table and she slumped in her chair.
No one said anything. Holly checked their faces and no one made eye contact. They didn’t buy it. Angel folded her hands as though in prayer and just stared at Sylvia.
And Sylvia just lay there waiting for applause like she’d nailed a death scene in a play or something. Finally, she barely opened one eye.
“You should consider developing your talent as a medium,” Angel said as she stood. “I have a long drive back.”
Sam snored and Miss Alice elbowed him.
Startled, he opened his old eyes wide. “What?” He jerked his head from side to side. “What’d I miss?”
“All of it.” Miss Alice stood and helped Sam up. “Come on. You need coffee, so you can drive home without killing yourself or anyone else.”
Just as they exited the room, the chandelier blasted the room in bright light. Tru stood beside the light switch. He adjusted his glasses. “Not quite yet.”
Downright Dead Page 11
