When they entered the bookstore, the jangle of the door’s bell had Ms. Jane rushing from the back room to greet them. After Brianna made the introductions, Ms. Jane asked them to follow her down a long hallway to the special editions room.
The hallway walls were littered with paintings of Fairmont around the turn of the century. Feeling nostalgic, she stopped to admire the town as it had looked back then. The Queen Anne was one building highlighted, and Brianna studied the painting with pride, having visual proof that she’d restored it to its original design.
Once they entered the room, Ben was like a kid, awed by all the antiquated volumes lining the shelves. He would pick one book up and flip through the pages before picking up another one.
The librarian took a seat at the weathered wooden table. Brianna sat opposite her.
“After you left the other day, I remembered reading a letter Ms. Kennedy wrote before she died. I’ve searched every day since. I found it last night in an old trunk that belonged to Mr. Conklin’s brother. I thought it might help clear up some of the mystery surrounding the woman’s death.” Ms. Jane’s liver-spotted hand trembled as she handed Brianna a yellowed piece of paper.
“This is a suicide note,” Brianna said after reading it. “How did your relative get this and not the police?”
“From what I’ve heard, Mr. Conklin’s brother helped him repair the rotten floor boards in the master bedroom. The letter was found in a crevice. It must have fallen the night Ms. Kennedy died. As it was found years after the woman’s death, they didn’t think it was important. It was put away and forgotten until now.”
Ben came to sit at the table and nudged Brianna’s arm. “Well, what does it say?”
Brianna paraphrased the contents. “She writes about the reasons she decided to take her own life. The girls who worked for her were her family. It was her responsibility to keep them safe, and she’d failed. She admits to being the one responsible for Becky and Sarah’s deaths. She couldn’t handle the guilt and decided to put an end to her life.”
“During my research, I discovered Ms. Kennedy put a bullet in her head,” Ms. Jane said.
Ben grimaced. “That’s pretty gruesome. No wonder she’s angry.”
“She also said she wouldn’t rest until she’d made amends.” Brianna added, “Maybe that’s why she’s stayed.”
Ms. Jane looked at Ben and Brianna. “Is she the ghost haunting Monroe Manor?”
“One of them,” Brianna said.
With their meeting over, Ms. Jane went back to the front counter while Brianna and Ben browsed the shelves, each buying a book before they left.
The drive back to the manor was made in silence. Brianna was deep in thought, trying to make sense of Ms. Kennedy’s suicide note. She said she had to make amends before she could rest. What if Ms. Kennedy isn’t keeping Sarah in the house? What if Sarah is keeping them both there? But why is Ms. Kennedy so violent? Is she protecting Sarah or is there another reason?
Denise Howard would be arriving next week. She prayed the truth would come out, and the restless spirits at Monroe Manor would find peace at last.
Chapter 41
Brianna had tracked down Anita through Mr. Caro. She needed to know why she’d traveled to Bridgeport. Anita explained that she’d come to the YMCA gala to honor Brianna’s father, and to speak with her, but she lost her nerve and left early. She wanted to explain that she’d stolen the money because her mother needed surgery, and they didn’t have enough to pay the deductible or the copay. She felt horrible about what she’d done and went back to the restaurant the day after she was fired to explain herself and to set up a payment plan to return the money. She always intended to pay it back. Brianna’s father had listened to her story and then wrote her a check to cover all her mother’s expenses plus a little extra. Her mother had the surgery and had recovered nicely. Anita even had a new job, thanks to her father’s letter of reference. There was no way to thank him now, but she wanted to make a donation to the foundation as a way of giving back.
Brianna accepted.
After she finished the phone call, Brianna joined Ben on the veranda, taking a seat in one of the rocking chairs. She spotted a car turning into the drive, and her heart fluttered like a trapped bird. The moment she’d been waiting for was here. Could Denise make the manor safe again? If Ben had faith in the psychic’s ability, so would she.
A woman climbed out of the car, and Brianna had her first glimpse of Denise. She was tall and slender with long, straight, ebony hair and penetrating blue-green eyes—nothing like Brianna had envisioned.
When Denise reached the top step, Ben jumped up to hug her, kissing each check. He introduced her to Brianna, who tried to shake Denise’s hand but was yanked into a quick embrace.
Taking a step back to give Brianna the once over, Denise grinned. “Ben’s told me so much about you.”
“I can only imagine the stories he’s told you—and none of them good, I bet.”
“He does exaggerate a bit, doesn’t he? He said you were beautiful, and he wasn’t wrong. I’m glad I’ve gotten a chance to meet you and put a face to the name.”
Brianna blushed. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
It was hard not to stare, faced with the psychic’s unquestionable beauty. Dressed in sleek dress pants, a turquoise silk shirt, and black slingback heels, Brianna felt dowdy in her T-shirt, shorts, and sandals.
Rather than going inside, they sat on the veranda enjoying the breathtaking view while Denise explained how she worked and what she hoped to accomplish with the walkthrough. Her dry sense of humor resonated with Brianna, and her confident voice held such sincerity that Brianna was finally able to relax. Her instincts told her this woman could be trusted. If anyone could dispatch the spirits at Monroe Manor, she would.
“Ben has only given me a brief description of what’s taken place here. I prefer it that way. I like to get a feel for the location without any preconceptions. It’s a more organic experience. I like to start at the front of the house and go wherever my senses guide me. I noticed you have an attic.”
“Does that make a difference?” Brianna asked.
“I’ve found spirits like to hide in places that are quiet, less people and commotion.”
Brianna shuddered. Of course they would hide there. I knew there was a reason I hated attics.
Denise glanced out toward the river.
Brianna’s face grew hot, and a bead of sweat trickled from her brow. Can she sense what took place between me and Riley?
The psychic fixed her piercing eyes on Brianna. “I hope this doesn’t offend you,” Denise said, “but do you sense things that others don’t?”
“Sometimes I know when I’m being watched. My skin tingles.”
“You’re a sensitive. You feel the energy of others, whether they're alive or dead. Are your parents departed?”
Taken by surprise, Brianna could only nod.
“You’ve seen them.”
“Only once. The night they died.”
“You never told me that, Bree,” Ben said.
“I thought it was a dream.”
“It wasn’t,” Denise stated. “You carry a lot of remorse over their passing, don’t you?”
Brianna teared up. “Yes.”
“I sense their death was sudden and unexpected.”
“Their boat exploded,” Ben said.
“And they were murdered. Am I right?”
Brianna was shocked by Denise’s obvious ability. “How do—”
“Your father has a strong personality, and that’s what he’s telling me.”
Brianna flashed the quirky smile she reserved for her crazy parents. “That’s an understatement.”
“Your mother is joining him.”
“Then they’re together?” Brianna asked.
With a nod, Denise said, “They’re standing behind you.”
Brianna looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see either of them, not even a mist or a shadow. She thought
she felt the light touch of a hand on her shoulder, and it comforted her.
“Your father says it wasn’t your fault, and you can’t move forward until you forgive yourself.”
“How can I forgive myself? I brought their murderer into our home.”
“He says you have to let it go. They didn’t suffer, and they’re together. They said for you to remember their wish has been fulfilled.”
The burden she’d carried since their death was lifted with those simple words. “Will you tell them that I'm sorry, and I love them?”
“They already know. They said they’ll always watch over you.”
The night her parents visited her room wasn’t a dream after all. They wanted to comfort her as they always had. The warmth of their love had surrounded her then, and it enveloped her now. Then the warmth was suddenly gone, but she knew it would return whenever she needed it.
“They’re gone now. I’m ready to begin.” Denise said.
“Bree, are you ready to do this or do you need a moment?” Ben asked.
“I’m good. Actually, I’m better than good—I’m ecstatic,” she said, flashing him a brilliant smile.
Once inside, Denise scanned the reception area. “Something happened here recently. I hear furniture being thrown around, banging, and glass shattering.”
Ben described the mess they’d seen when they came downstairs that night.
Denise listened with solemn regard before speaking again. “It takes a great deal of force to move physical objects. This spirit is angry and has strong ties to this house. These outbursts occur when anyone comes into what they consider their personal space. Do you know if any of the other owners ever complained of experiencing paranormal activity?”
“I’ve only had an opportunity to speak with the daughter of one of the previous owners,” Brianna said. “Her mother claimed, when she was a child, she could see and speak with the ghosts.”
With a click of her tongue, Denise moved into the parlor, and stopped in the middle of the room with a look of shock on her face.
Brianna glanced around but didn’t notice anything unusual. “Do you see something?”
“Half-naked women. From the scanty amount of clothing they’re wearing, I’d say they’re from around the turn of the century.”
“This was once a brothel,” Ben said.
Denise nodded and climbed the stairs to the second floor where she entered the first room on the right. “This room belonged to the woman I sensed downstairs. Was her name, Loretta . . . Loretta Kennedy?”
“Yes. She was the owner of the brothel, a powerful woman, and from what I understand not a nice person,” Brianna said.
“That’s why this spirit has remained. Ghosts that haven’t grasped the concept that they’re dead go about their business as if they’re still alive. To them, the new owners are trespassers, and they will do whatever necessary to get them to leave. The devastation left in the reception area was a warning.”
“She gave me another warning the night she came into my bedroom and tried to rip my heart out,” Brianna said, her heart pounding with the memory.
“You failed to mention that too,” Ben said.
With a shrug, Brianna replied, “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“There’s another reason she hasn’t crossed over. Whether it’s unfinished business or regret, I can’t tell. I’m having a hard time reading this woman. She has her guard up. She’s a strict disciplinarian, but I sense she was also a loving protector.” Her hand shook as she pointed to the floor by the fireplace. “I see blood spilling across the floor, running into the crevices of the floorboards. Did this woman shoot herself?”
Brianna agreed and stepped closer to Ben, holding onto his arm for support. The description of the horrible scene was too close a match to the one she’d witnessed the night Charlene died, and her stomach threatened to revolt.
“This woman’s not the only spirit trapped here. There’s another one, and they’re connected somehow. I haven’t encountered the other one yet, so let’s move on.”
They climbed the next flight of stairs and entered Brianna’s apartment. Inside the bedroom door, Denise came to an abrupt halt. “Do you hear that?”
“It sounds like a woman crying. I used to think it was the wind whistling by the windows until the night I saw her,” Brianna said.
Ben whispered, “It’s kind of spooky.”
“It’s not the wind. It’s the other spirit who’s trapped here. This was her room.” Denise took her time to wander around the space before stopping at the window.
Brianna watched a tear slide down Denise’s face.
“This woman projects an overwhelming sadness. It’s hard not to be consumed by it.”
Brianna could relate. She’d experienced the same emotion many times in this room.
Denise soon regained her composure. “This spirit’s name is Sarah. She spent every night staring out this window, waiting for the man she loved to return. She keeps repeating the same statement—‘didn’t know, didn’t know.’”
“That’s what she said when she appeared to me, but what does it mean?”
“I’m getting mixed images. I need to sort through them before I can make any sense out of it.” Denise closed her eyes again and took several deep, slow breaths. She soon looked up and whispered, “Ms. Kennedy has joined us. She said Sarah drank the tea without knowing it was made from tansy leaves. She didn’t mean to kill Sarah or Becky. She only wanted to spare them the heartache of bringing a child into their world. She loved the girls and would never have intentionally hurt them.”
“Is Ms. Kennedy forced to stay here as punishment because she killed Becky and Sarah?” Brianna asked.
“No. Sarah wouldn’t leave until James knew about the baby, and Ms. Kennedy felt obligated to stay.”
Brianna had suspected as much after reading Ms. Kennedy’s suicide note.
“Sarah tried her best to control Ms. Kennedy, because she knew the woman could become violent when it came to protecting the manor,” Denise said. “And you had to stay because you were the only one who could set them free.”
This confirmed what Brianna had known all along—the white mist that surrounded Ms. Kennedy and made her disappear was Sarah. “I don’t understand what she wants from me. How can I help them?”
“Sarah is somewhat confused. She feels like her lover abandoned her and their child because he never answered her letter.”
“That’s not true. The night she came to me, she led me to a hidden compartment in the fireplace. Tucked inside was the last letter she wrote to James, telling him about the baby and that she would wait for him. She never mailed it. I also have a copy of James’s last letter telling her he would come back for her, but he died before he could mail his as well.”
Denise motioned for them to follow her downstairs. “I can help Ms. Kennedy cross over. Sarah has already forgiven her,” Denise said when they’d reached the reception area. “Once she realizes there isn’t any reason for her to stay, she’ll leave. Sarah will be more of a challenge. Her staying is more emotional. It’s not from regret but out of love. Love is a powerful emotion. You’ll have to be the one to help Sarah. She trusts you.”
“What should I do?” Brianna said.
“Read her James’s letter. She needs to understand that he didn’t return because he couldn’t, and she can join him now. Give me some time alone with Ms. Kennedy. Then we’ll work on Sarah.”
Anxious to clear the house of these two restless spirits, Brianna and Ben left Denise alone. Brianna kept herself busy by making a pitcher of sweet tea. She poured a glass for herself and handed one to Ben. Fifteen minutes later, Denise called for them to return.
“That didn’t take long,” Ben said. “You’re even better than I remember.”
“It isn’t hard if you know what you’re doing. Spirits want to leave. Once I help them resolve the issue that has kept them trapped in a location, they move on. Now it’s time to release Sarah. Are you
ready, Bree?”
Brianna nodded and ran upstairs to retrieve the letter from the nightstand. With it clutched to her heart, she returned to the entry. “Where should I do this?”
“Right here is good. She’s standing there.” Denise pointed to the top of the second-floor landing underneath the stained-glass window. “You need to speak firmly.”
“Sarah, I hope you can understand what I’m about to read. This is James’s last letter to you.” Brianna cleared her throat.
My dearest Sarah,
William was sent to another unit, so I’ll have another bunkmate write this for me. His name is Daniel.
I know you asked me not contact you again. I hope you will forgive me but I had to write you one more time, my dear, before I go into battle. I am glad we are going. It is what I have been waiting for, to end this war and return home.
I am sitting in a trench in Somme, France. It is so dark out tonight. The moon is but a sliver. I thought being in the country would be quiet, but it’s not. I can hear our enemy in their trenches, singing and talking. They are only yards away, but it sounds like we are inches apart. I can even hear the shuffle of a deck of cards. How I wish I had a deck right now to help pass the time.
I’m scared, my love. I’ve never killed anyone before, and only God knows if I will see you again. This might be the last letter I will ever write.
I want you to know, I won’t accept your decision. I won’t give up on us. I’ve tried to forget you, but I can’t imagine living without you. My brother be damned. He cannot tell me who to love. I have loved you since the moment we met, and I will love you for eternity.
If I die tomorrow, I will go to my maker with the vision of your sweet face and your name upon my lips.
I swear, if by chance I survive, I will come back for you.
Still, Forever, Promise,
James
Brianna’s face was wet, and she tasted the salt of her own tears. “Now what?” she asked Denise, who wiped the tears from her eyes before answering. She listened to the medium’s whispered instructions and took a deep breath.
Still, Forever, Promise Page 29
