"Trudy, you can't stay here. I won't leave you alone in this house after all this," Simon covered her hand with his and squeezed.
She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes and felt a warmth break through the fear and anxiety gathered in the pit of her stomach. "You're right. I need to go home. This house has been here for over a hundred years without me. I guess it can get by for the rest of tonight."
"We can take you home, Miss... uh... Trudy," Milt offered. "Then we'll keep an extra close eye on the house for you."
Simon saw she was about to argue. "You've had an awful scare. You shouldn't drive and you definitely need to get some rest. Why don't we gather up what you really need and get you home?" He urged her up from her chair and toward the stairs as he spoke.
Rattled more than she wanted to admit, Trudy accepted his guidance and their decision. His hands felt warm and steady against her clenched, frozen waist and back even through her pajama top as he walked her along. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Simon. This all seems so...unreal."
"You can say that again. We do need you to check and make sure there's nothing missing before we leave if you're up to it. I need the information for the report."
"I can do that, I think. I need to change and get my bag and shoes." Trudy grabbed up her jeans and a sweatshirt and disappeared into the bathroom. The light came on before she could touch the switch. "I hope you're not a lecherous old ghost," she whispered and stripped off her pajama top. The light flickered. Trudy, feeling raw and emotional, giggled.
"What?" Simon called
"Nothing. I'm fine," Trudy reassured him then hastily dropped her pajama bottoms and pulled on her jeans. When she stepped to the mirror to run a brush through her hair, she stopped and stared.
Reflected in the glass, a wispy shape stood behind her—tall and broad, but indistinct. She gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth to hold back the building scream. When she whipped around to look behind her, she saw nothing.
"S-S..." She swallowed and tried again. "Simon, please come in here," she softly called, voice aquiver.
"Trudy, what's wrong? You're awfully pale. What—"
"Please look in the mirror and tell me if you see anything...unusual?"
"Why, what did you..." He reached out to grasp her arm and searched the bathroom with his eyes.
"Please, Simon. The mirror," she said again.
"I see your back, me, the shower stall, the wall... There's nothing there, Trudy." He spoke as if to a frightened child. He felt her trembling as if in the grip of a terrible chill. Simon gathered her close to try to warm her. "Honey, it's okay. There's nothing there. You probably saw a shadow."
Trudy peeked around his shoulder and risked a look into the mirror. Simon was wrong. It was still there. "Let's go. I've got to get out of this house," she insisted and tugged him toward the door.
After shoving her feet into her shoes and grabbing up her bag, they met the Sergeant downstairs. Simon and Milt escorted her on an inspection of the aviary and study area.
Nothing was missing as far as she could tell, but several chairs were out of place and papers were scattered everywhere about the study. A fine, dark powder covered everything. She saw the misty figure again, hovering in the doorway, and insisted, "We need to go, please. Now!" Trudy couldn't deal with anymore tonight.
Chapter Five
Simon carried Trudy's overnighter and Milt reached to open the front door. The lights went off and the door refused to open.
"Crappy old houses..." Milt muttered and jerked harder at the stuck door.
Trudy pressed closer to Simon. A really bad feeling crept over her and gave her chills up and down her spine. "What time is it?" she whispered past the lump on her throat.
"About three a.m. Why?"
"Today's Halloween," she answered, as if that explained everything. And to her it did. She could feel the additional energy coursing through her own body. "May I try, Sergeant?"
"Okay," Milt agreed with a little chuckle and stepped away from the door. "Best thing we can do, though, is go out the side or the back. That door is stuck, but good."
Trudy reached for the doorknob. Electrical sparks danced in the dark stretching from her fingertips to the knob. When she actually made contact with the metal, a surge of energy threw her back against Simon.
"What in blue blazes...?" Simon staggered, but managed to keep both of them upright.
"He doesn't want me to leave," Trudy muttered.
Milt took out his flashlight and hastily began scanning the room. "Who doesn't? We're the only ones here."
Simon caught on a bit quicker. "This is about who you had me looking for upstairs, isn't it, Trudy? A ghost?"
She reluctantly nodded her head.
"No such thing as ghosts," Milt snickered. The stuff these young folks come up with because of a stuck door and some faulty wiring. Suddenly his flashlight left his hand and flew across the room. A cold draft floated across all three of them.
Simon grabbed his light from his utility belt and began flashing it around. "Whatever is going on, we should get out of here. Let's try another door."
"I'm with you," Milt agreed. He warily retrieved his light and followed Simon and Trudy toward the door leading onto the side porch. Spying the phone, Milt told them, "I'm going to call in and tell Dispatch we'll be a few minutes getting back on patrol." He didn't admit, even to himself, he wanted someone to know where they were, just in case. When he picked up the receiver, he heard static and an insistent whisper.
"The witch stays... The witch stays..."
"Simon, listen!" Milt passed him the phone.
"The witch stays... The witch stays..."
"No!" Simon shouted and slammed the phone down. "Come on. We need to get out of here." He grabbed Trudy's hand, and then practically dragged her toward the door.
"What is it, Simon? Who was on the phone?" Trudy asked, but received no answer as Simon unlocked the side entrance and tried to open the door.
"Help me," he insisted to Milt, when the door refused to budge.
Since the door opened in, putting their shoulders to it wouldn't help. No matter how hard they tugged and pulled, the door wouldn't open.
"I am not liking this!" Milt added a few choice curses after the statement.
Together they hurried to the back door at the end of the long hall. Once again, they couldn't get out. The door refused to open.
"What about the windows?" Trudy asked. "And there are French doors onto the balcony of the main bedroom upstairs."
"Trying those next," Milt assured her as he rushed to a large window in the parlor. After several attempts at various windows, he stopped, breathing hard from the strain of pulling and pushing at the sashes.
Simon tugged Trudy along behind him while he worked his way through other rooms, trying all the windows. None would open. He drew his baton and urged Trudy back several steps. He whacked the glass while shielding his face with his other arm, expecting it to shatter everywhere. A dull thud sounded and the baton bounced off. He struck the window harder, finally using two hands on the club, but still the glass refused to break. After beating at the window for several minutes to no avail, he stopped to catch his breath.
Milt and Simon met in the center of the room to discuss their options. Both men tried their cell phones, but shook their heads when they wouldn't work.
Trudy dropped onto the settee and felt a cold draft waft gently across her arm, almost like a caress. She shivered and fought back the panic threatening to overwhelm her. Then she whispered, "Could we please have a light? I won't try to leave."
A lamp at the end of the small sofa flickered and then remained on.
"Thank you. Now, would you let the officers leave if I promise to stay?"
The light flickered once.
The side door creaked as it slowly opened.
"Well, if that don't beat all..." Milt took off his cap and scratched at the bald spot in the top of his head, totally perplexed.
"We bet
ter get out of here before it closes again," Simon insisted. He hurried to Trudy's side. "Let's go." He reached to help her up and she went willingly into his arms.
But then Trudy refused to walk with him toward the door as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. "You and Milt have to leave without me, Simon. It's the only way you can get out. I promised to stay if it let you go."
"I won't leave you, Trudy. I can't," Simon groaned near her ear. Even now, her scent and the feel of her womanly curves against him were driving him to distraction. "When did you arrive at this? Did you actually talk to whatever this is?"
Trudy whispered, "Yes, I can communicate with it. I ask a question and the light blinks for yes. I'll be fine, Simon. You have to go." Her voice trembled and tears slipped down her cheeks at the thought of being left here, alone, with a ghost. But she was afraid of what might happen if the two men didn't leave. The entity had shown a strong surge of power when it pushed her back from the door earlier.
"I won't leave you," Simon insisted. He signaled to Milt who immediately rushed out the open door. Then wrapping his hand firmly around Trudy's waist, Simon propelled her toward the exit.
The heavy wooden door slammed shut in their faces with a loud bang and the light went off once again.
Trudy couldn't help the startled shriek which escaped at the loud noise and sudden return to darkness. Then she felt cold air swirl around her. She began shivering all over from the fear and the chilling draft.
"You're scaring her. Stop it!" Simon shouted to the room at large. "What do you want with her?"
The cold drifted away.
Several minutes later, they heard Milt hammering on the door, trying to force it open to get them out. "Simon? Trudy? Are you okay in there?" he called.
"We're all right, Sarge. Why don't you use the radio to call in or try your phone, now?"
"I did. I bought us some time, but the Captain sure as the devil ain't going to believe what's really holding us up. What do you want me to do about getting you out? These doors are not going to open unless it wants them to." Milt came to the painful realization there were some things in the universe beyond him and this was one of them. "Should I call the fire department or what?"
"Maybe Trudy can talk to it again. Hang on, would you?" Simon called back through the door.
"Like I got a lot of choices, here," Milt muttered. Then he went to sit on the porch railing to light a smoke only to remember he quit over a year ago.
* * * * *
"I think you should apologize for trying to take me out after I said I would stay, Simon," Trudy whispered into his ear.
"If you think it will help," he whispered back. Then louder, he called out, "I'm sorry I tried to make her go. I love her and I was afraid for her."
The lamp switched on.
Trudy gave a sigh of relief. Then it hit her exactly what Simon said. He loved her. Is it true or did he say it just for the ghost's benefit? Other than the quick meal last evening, they hadn't even been out yet. She blushed as she remembered the heated kiss in the diner.
The light flashed, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to their present situation.
"Let's try to work through this," she said to Simon and the entity. Afraid her knees might fold at any moment, she walked over to an armchair and sat on the edge of the cushion. "I'm not sure why you want me to stay, but you do, don't you?"
The light blinked.
Simon joined Trudy and placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. He rubbed his face with his other hand to make sure he was still awake. If someone else were telling him this, he would call them a bald-faced liar.
"Do you need my help in some way?" Trudy asked, frowning in concentration as she tried to think what to ask next.
The light flickered again.
"Great, a ghost needs my help," she muttered. Now, how do I ask this without scaring Simon away? Guess he should know sooner rather than later, she decided. "Do you need my help as a witch?"
The light blinked again.
"A witch? What are you talking about, Trudy?"
She placed her hand over Simon's resting upon her shoulder, the energy startling as it flowed between them from where her fingers touched his hand.
"I'll explain later. First, I think I better deal with this problem. Does this have anything to do with the break-in?"
Nothing happened. Not a flicker from the lamp.
Her brow wrinkled, she confirmed, "You're sure?"
Again nothing.
"But you shut the door on the burglar, didn't you?"
The light blinked.
"Why? To protect the house?"
Nothing.
"To protect me?"
The light flashed.
"Well, then, thank you for your protection. Now, what could you possibly want from me?" Trudy stood and began to pace. She saw a light switch on in the foyer. She walked toward it. Then a light came on in the back hallway. She cautiously stepped into the hall leading to the opposite side of the house from the aviary, thankful Simon was on her heels.
"What are we doing?" he whispered.
"We're following a ghost," she whispered back.
They arrived at what seemed to be a dead end. Then the hall light went off and Trudy saw a glimmer of light appear beneath the closed pocket-doors of the old-fashioned library.
The doors slid apart a bit and Simon stepped forward to open them all the way. The musty smell of old books and the vague scent of a cigar filled the air.
"Okay, we're here. What do you want us to see?" Trudy asked the ghost.
Blam! An old book landed flat on the floor, stirring a flurry of dust after falling from the top of a shelf.
Simon jumped, hand moving instinctively to his weapon, and then couldn't help a chuckle escaping. "Guess that was plain enough." He retrieved the heavy, leather-bound volume for Trudy.
She laid it on the desk and waited to see if the ghost would open it. Sure enough, the heavy cover opened and the pages began flipping. When they stopped, the desk lamp flickered.
Trudy gingerly sat in the desk chair and scanned the two pages before her.
Simon looked over her shoulder. He saw several poems written in old style handwriting. "Poetry? It went through all this to share a poem with you?" he asked, more puzzled than before.
"Not poetry, Simon. These are incantations. Spells." Holding the place with her finger, she closed the book far enough to read the title on the front. Ye Epistles of Galdorcraeft. "This is a very old book of witchcraft, curses, and bindings. But which spell on which page..." Trudy laid the book open again as she considered, "Hmm... Or was it a binding and why? What is our ghost up to?"
The light flickered several times.
"Okay, let's see if we can figure out which one." She pointed to each spell while watching for the lamp to blink. At the next to last topic on the right-hand page, the light flashed. The spidery handwriting was small and covered two columns. Trudy strained to read it. Olde English was difficult for her at the best of times, but especially so since she took her vow.
"What does it say?" Simon leaned closer and became trapped in the cinnamon-vanilla scent of her. Trying very hard to take this one moment at a time, he felt proud of his control so far. His instructors definitely had not covered this at the Academy. But his Granny's legacy helped him deal with it a bit better than most would.
"It's hard to make out. But from what I gather a young man, Gilbert, the son of a servant, and the beautiful daughter of a wealthy man, Anna, fell deeply in love. The father forbade the two to see each other as Gilbert had no prospects. The father had Gilbert banished from the house. But the young man was determined and, with encouragement from Anna through secret messages, he confronted the father on All Hallow's Eve to ask to court her with a view to marriage. The father drew a dagger and raged at Gilbert when he refused to take no for an answer. A fight ensued and Anna rushed between the two into the path of the downward thrust of the knife. Her spirit passed quickly. The father
became so enraged he had Gilbert imprisoned in the cellar and hired a witch to put a curse on him. Gilbert's spirit was bound, to forever remain trapped between worlds, never to be with his love on the other side—always to haunt the house of descendants of the father upon his death. He remained hidden, locked away in the cellar until he died." Trudy looked up and blinked to clear her burning eyes. "I would guess then, either Mr. or Mrs. Gambrell would be the father's descendant."
The light flashed off and back on to tell her she was correct.
"Well, what does this ghost want you to do about it?" Simon circled her shoulders with his arms, urged her up from the chair, and turned her to face him. "Trudy, why you? And why now?"
"Halloween is why now. And this is a special Halloween, the moon is full. Magic is stronger, curses are cast or removed easier, and it might be the only time the ghost, the spirit of Gilbert, is strong enough to communicate with us."
Again the light flickered.
"I guess I get that. But it still doesn't tell me why you? Is this the thing you said you would explain later? The witch thing?"
Trudy nodded her head, yes, and then snuggled into his chest. "Please kiss me once more before I tell you. I doubt you'll want to once I explain."
Simon leaned his head to oblige when a loud pounding sounded through the house. "Oh, crap! I forgot about Milt. Let me go tell him to go back to work or something. Will you be okay? No, wait, you should come with me." He took her arm, but she pulled back slightly.
"No, I need to read the rest of this. I'm fine. He won't hurt me. He just needs my help. Go talk to Milt." She stroked the side of his face ever so gently.
Simon planted a kiss in her palm and left the room as Milt began banging again.
Chapter Six
Trudy searched in the desk drawers until she found a pen and pad. Then she began writing notes. The light flickered several times.
"Sorry, Gilbert. I'm writing down the spell used to bind you. Then I'll have to find a spell to reverse it. We also need a spell to allow you to contact your beloved, Anna. I assume you would want to do that."
The light blinked frantically.
Becca's Paranormal Collection Page 4
