The video captured Riley walking up behind Brianna. The screen went black.
Brianna’s face flushed, her throat constricted. How could she explain what she’d captured? How could she explain Riley? She kept her expression blank, her eyes averted. Please don’t ask me about Riley.
She waited.
He didn’t.
Ben handed her the phone and cleared his throat. “There’s something weird going on in this house. I know someone pulled me out of bed this morning. I felt hands grab my legs and yank.” He pulled his pant leg up and his sock down to reveal five round bruises. They looked like fingertips surrounding his ankle. “I noticed this in the shower this morning.”
“Why didn’t you show me this before?”
“I didn’t want to scare you. I also wanted to believe there was another reason for them.”
“Like what?”
“Like it happened when you attacked me last night.”
“That’s not funny,” she said, punching him in the arm.
“Come on. I was trying to lighten the mood.”
Terrified, Brianna couldn’t breathe. She was neither a skeptic nor a believer when it came to the subject of ghosts. She hadn’t had any experience with the supernatural and didn’t have any personal friends who had—at least none that she knew of. But unless there was a good explanation for recent events, she’d have to conclude the manor was haunted.
Is it possible it wasn’t a dream? Did I see my parents’ ghosts? Did they follow me here? Dad didn’t like Ben, but he wouldn’t have any reason to attack the painter. Could there be another spirit here, a darker one?
Her voice quivered when she spoke. “Despite the rumors, I didn’t want to think this place could be haunted. After seeing that thing on the video and your bruises . . . well, I don’t know what to believe.”
“What kind of rumors?”
She recounted all the stories she’d heard from Beverly and Mr. Moretti. She told him about seeing the woman in the window and the ethereal figure she’d seen reflected in the bathroom mirror. She even went into explicit detail of her experience with the shadow figure in the bedroom.
“And why haven’t you told me this before? Now who’s calling the kettle black? You weren’t scared?”
“Well, yeah . . . a little. I sat up in bed the rest of the night until I dozed off sometime before dawn. That’s why I didn’t get any sleep.”
“Why didn’t you call me or go to a hotel?”
“What could you have done? You were miles away. It didn’t make sense for both of us to be up all night. Besides, I wasn’t going to let a little shadow scare me away.”
“The next time anything like that happens, you call me. I don’t care what time it is. Is that clear? I love you. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m glad that construction guy was here, in case you’d needed help.”
She nodded. I’ll tell him about Riley some other time, she thought, opting to change the subject “Do you think I should I drop the project and sell the place?”
“Not yet. I know someone who can help us. Let me give her a call first before we make that decision.”
“What should I do in the meantime?”
“Even though a picnic sounds great, we need to research the history of this place. Let’s see if we can find out who lived here and who wouldn’t want to leave. Is there a library close by?”
“Downtown.”
“We’ll start there. I’ve read that older places are more likely haunted. They have a better chance that bad things have happened with the longer span of time. Violent deaths, abuse, or betrayal can keep a spirit trapped until they receive some form of justice. Have you checked the attic?”
“No!” she said with a vehement shake of her head.
“That’s all right. I’ll check it later.”
They decided to forgo the leisurely breakfast and head to the library.
As they climbed into the rental car, Brianna glanced up at the third-floor window. No shadow today, but she was saddened by the possibility that this house wasn’t as perfect as she first thought.
I was so sure the house wanted me to rescue it. Now I wonder if it’s the spirit I’m supposed to save. But how?
Chapter 16
“Is that it?” Ben pointed at the two-story brick building that housed the Marion County Public Library.
“Uh-huh,” Brianna said, staring at the structure. She wondered when it all started, her love of reading. Her mother had been an advocate for learning, believing knowledge was the key to success. Her motto had been, “If you can learn to read, you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.” She hadn’t been wrong. Almost everything Brianna had learned so far had come from books, and she’d retained a deep, abiding reverence for the wisdom contained behind those brick walls.
Ben found an empty parking space and parallel parked. He came around to open her door, and her heart quickened as if she was about to see an old friend.
The first library experience she could remember was when her mother would bring her here after school for Story Hour in the Kid’s Corner. She would listen, enthralled, while one of the volunteers read a classic children’s book. As she got older, they’d come every weekend. Brianna would pick five or six books to take home. She would finish them all before they were due back the following week. In high school, she’d spent many nights here doing research for homework assignments. Most of what she read during and after high school was a variety of technical books on the history of architecture and design, her passions.
With Ben’s arm around her waist, they entered the building. The library seemed smaller than she remembered. The lingering scents of leather, dust, and a mixture of perfumes and colognes hung in the air. Mumbled whispers and the rustle of pages disrupted the otherwise hushed environment.
At the front desk, Ben asked the clerk where they could find information concerning the history of Fairmont, property sales, and previous owners of Monroe Manor.
The clerk informed them that the Marion County Genealogical Club had a reference department in the back. The club maintained a handful of staff and volunteers to work on site to answer questions and locate materials, but they couldn’t do in-depth research.
Ben said he understood, and the clerk escorted them to a room with a microfilm reader, a computer, and a coin-operated copy machine.
A woman around nineteen or twenty with a streak of purple in her silver-blonde hair greeted them. She had cheerful blue eyes and slight dimples in her cheeks. She told them she was working on her undergraduate degree at Fairmont State University. She wanted to work at the Library of Congress one day, so she volunteered at the library twice a week to get experience. She had no trouble helping them locate the information they needed and went back to her desk.
Brianna and Ben started their research from the year Mr. Page built the house, 1880. Connie had been correct. Mr. Page came to Fairmont from Pennsylvania and opened several coal mines. He became a wealthy man through his mining ventures. His wife joined him in 1881 after the house was complete. They had no children.
Brianna found an obituary for Mrs. Page. She died from tuberculosis at the Adirondack Cottage Sanitarium in Saranac Lake, New York, in 1897. Mr. Page died two years later, in 1899, from a heart attack while visiting one of his mines. Neither of them died in the house.
A Ms. Loretta Kennedy took possession of the house after Mr. Page died. They searched, but couldn’t find any relationship between this woman and either Mr. or Mrs. Page, or any reason for her to inherit the property. Ms. Kennedy died in the house in 1918. Here was one possibility for their ghost.
The next owner was Mr. Conklin. He owned one of the banks in town. After the stock market crash of 1929, he jumped to his death from his office window. Brianna excluded him from the list.
The house remained vacant for years until the Monroe’s moved to town. Mr. Monroe owned a chain of five and dime stores acro
ss the region, and he’d made Fairmont his headquarters. He had a massive heart attack at home and died as a result. His wife died at Fairmont General Hospital from kidney failure.
Ben pointed to an article he found. “Mr. and Mrs. Monroe only had one child, a daughter, Jennifer Talbert,” he whispered. “She was a resident of Chicago when she inherited the house. It looks like she moved back to Fairmont to live in the manor. When she became disabled, she moved back to Chicago. This article said she died in a nursing home with her daughter by her side.”
“And I purchased the house from her daughter. It looks like we only have two people who died in the house. Do you think one of them could be our ghost?”
“It’s possible,” Ben said. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk without whispering,” he said. “We can eat lunch and plan where to go from here.”
Brianna’s face lit up. “I know a great place on Main Street. It opened after I left. I heard it has great food, and it’s only a couple blocks down the street. It has outside dining, and the weather is pretty darn perfect today.”
Ben patted her backside. “Point me in the right direction.”
As they walked the two blocks, Brianna pointed out places of interest with a little history thrown in. She told him Fairmont was nicknamed “The Friendly City” and was the home of the original pepperoni roll. He took it all in with his usual good humor.
They strolled through the historic district arm in arm. This area of town had always fascinated Brianna. She admired the buildings with their variety of architectural styles that dated back to the late 19th century. This was where she’d first acquired her love of design.
The restaurant was empty by the time they arrived. The hostess led them to a table in the outside seating area that overlooked Main Street. From this vantage point, they could watch locals and tourists as they scurried past, their arms laden with packages.
After placing their orders, Ben reached into the back pocket of his jeans and took out his notes from the library.
“We should concentrate on Mr. Monroe and Ms. Kennedy. They were the only ones who died in the house,” Ben said.
“We need to find out more about her,” Brianna added. “Why did she inherit the house? I couldn’t find a connection between her and the Pages or cause of death. Was she murdered and that’s why she’s stayed?”
“There has to be more information on this woman. We’ll dig deeper and maybe we’ll find it. I’ve heard ghosts can attach themselves to objects. Have you found any items that were left at the manor?”
“A refrigerator and stove. I seriously doubt any self-respecting ghost would want to haunt appliances.”
“Then I’ll check the attic. There might be something left up there.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Are you sure, Bree? I know how claustrophobic you get.”
“With you beside me, I’ll be fine. We’ll have to do it tomorrow though. We have the dinner party tonight with my friends.”
“Ah shit. I got so wrapped up in looking for our ghost that I forgot.”
A stray shadow blocked out the late afternoon sun, and a familiar voice had Brianna wrenching her eyes in the offender’s direction.
“Good afternoon, Anya,” Riley said in his deep, velvety voice. There was the slight trace of a southern drawl hidden under the attempt to sound like a New Yorker. It made him sound even sexier.
“You’ve mistaken her for someone else,” Ben stated. “Her name isn’t Anya.”
Riley gave Ben a thorough once-over. “You must be the fiancé. You weren’t supposed to arrive until tonight.”
Ben studied Riley’s face. “I recognize you from the video. If you work for Bree, you should know her name.”
Riley looked puzzled.
“He doesn’t work for me, Ben. He works with his father at Rutland’s where I get my supplies. He was delivering my last order yesterday.”
“He should still know your name,” Ben said with a frown.
“We went to school together. Anya was my nickname.” She refrained from telling Ben that Riley was the only one who’d ever used it. She wasn’t ready to explain that part of her past. Eventually, when she was ready.
“Riley, this is my fiancé, Ben Gregory. He surprised me by getting here last night.”
Ben jumped up to pump Riley’s hand. “Sorry for the misunderstanding. It’s nice to meet one of Bree’s friends. So . . . you two met in high school?”
Both Brianna and Riley nodded.
Ben pulled the extra chair out. “Join us for lunch? I’m dying to know what Bree was like when she was younger.”
Riley glanced at Brianna, whose face held a controlled warning. “Thanks, but . . . I’m rushing to another appointment. I saw you and An . . . Bree sitting here, and I wanted to stop by and welcome you to our quaint, little backwoods town.” Riley hesitated, his eyes on Ben. “Do you plan on staying in Fairmont long?”
“As long as she needs me,” Ben said, jabbing his thumb in Brianna’s direction. “I promised I’d help with her projects.” Ben paused. “You know, we’re having a dinner party tonight for a couple of Bree’s girlfriends. Why not join us?”
Brianna choked back the desperate panic rising. “I’m sure Riley already has plans for tonight.”
Riley didn’t hesitate to answer. “Actually, I’m free. By any chance are the friends Jackie and Beverly?”
“Yeah, that’s them,” Ben said.
“Will George be there too?”
Her expression bland, Brianna replied, “Yes, he’ll be there.”
“Then I’d love to come. I haven’t seen him in years.”
Ben leaned back in his chair and addressed Riley. “I’m giving you fair warning that I’ll be interrogating everyone for all the dirt I can get on Bree. She doesn’t talk much about her life here, and I’m curious to know why.”
A knot developed in the pit of her stomach. Great. How am I going to make it through dinner being in the same room with them both?
With a huge grin, Riley excused himself. “I’d better be on my way. I’ll see you two tonight.” He directed his gaze at Brianna. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The food arrived soon after Riley left. Brianna concentrated on her steamed vegetables, pushing the carrots around on her plate. Riley’s going to mess up everything. Why can’t he go back to New York and leave me alone?
She glanced at Ben devouring his cheeseburger and fries. If I avoid the topic, maybe Ben won’t ask me about Riley. He’s probably wondering why I’ve never mentioned him before. How can I explain our relationship or our breakup when I don’t understand it myself?
Lucky for her, Ben was too concerned with eating to carry on much of a conversation. On occasion, he would look up and smile or remark about how great his food tasted.
The table umbrella provided shade from the afternoon sun, and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair. Brianna sat back and tried to enjoy the pleasant surroundings. The day had been great until Riley showed up. She had to stop thinking about him, but nothing seemed to work. He still had the ability to dominate any space with his rugged good looks, and it infuriated her.
She remembered their second date, when he tried to convince her that he’d been a pirate a hundred years ago. With his dashing features and swaggering gait, it wasn’t difficult to imagine. He claimed she was a beautiful young heiress whom he kidnapped and took aboard his pirate ship. Of course she fell in love with him, and they sailed the high seas together. When he’d plundered enough of a fortune, he bought her a magnificent plantation on a remote Caribbean island where they lived happily for the remainder of their years. He said they were the reincarnated souls of those two individuals, and they’d found each other again because they’d always be connected throughout eternity. It was a nice fantasy. She wanted to believe him but didn’t.
Riley was a staunch advocate for the concept of reincarnation. He believed the deceased come back after death in another body or form, and that souls traveled togethe
r in groups until all their issues were resolved. They could be a father in one life, a husband or wife in another, but they always ended up attached to one another in their current lives.
If Riley believes in reincarnation, does he also believe in ghosts?
She traced the tattoo on her wrist of the Celtic knot. The design has no beginning or end, representing eternity and the unending cycle of life. Could reincarnation be possible? Are we all connected, traveling in groups through time, being reborn over and over again until the ultimate goal is reached? And what is the ultimate goal? Does anyone know?
Riley was so certain and convincing that she found it hard to refute his argument, especially since the moment they first met, she’d felt like they’d known each other before. If she was connected to Riley, was she also connected to Ben? Had he been her brother, friend, or lover in another place and time?
She had no explanation for or against this unsubstantiated theory. It was a belief that one must accept on faith. Scientists discovered new concepts every day. She decided to keep an open mind.
Ben had finished eating his cheeseburger and turned his attention to slurping his chocolate milk shake. She couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes he was like a little boy, endearing, trusting, and incorrigible. When the time was right, she would tell Ben about Riley. It was the right thing to do.
What was that last comment of Lieutenant Holcomb’s? Everyone has secrets, and they come out when you least expect it.
She never believed that statement would apply to her until today.
Not only did she have to worry about someone haunting Monroe Manor. She had to worry about the past coming back to haunt her.
Chapter 17
A light rain misted the windshield on the return drive to the manor. The wipers swished back and forth in a steady rhythm, lulling Brianna into complacency. An awkward silence descended, and she wondered what Ben thought about their chance meeting with Riley. She glanced in his direction to see if she could read his expression, but his eyes were focused on the road. He must have sensed her watching him, because he glanced at her and smiled.
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