by L. L. Muir
“I believe ’tis a most appropriate time to tell such a tale as we hope to see Miss Celia’s great-great-grandfather come back to us this night in his ghostly form.”
She glanced around the crowd, all eyes on Alan. Nothing to do about it now. She just hoped he was still talking to her later.
She felt herself perking up as she listened. She’d certainly like to know more about Alan, and hadn’t quite found the nerve to ask him for the details. The fact that he could tell stories was a surprise.
“This tale didnae happen on these shores, but across the ocean. I ken those in this town suffered an incident of their own in the 17th century. A witch hunt. As ye’ve nae doubt seen, events that happen long ago can still affect those who live in the here and now.”
He’d captured his audience entirely.
“This is a tale of woe. A man by the name of Bonnie Prince Charlie, a young man of royal blood, arrived on the shores of the Highlands to gather support. He’d only seven men with him, and the chieftains he met with were less than impressed. Go home, they told him. I am home, was his response.”
She exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Trent. He looked as captivated as she felt. She shrugged her shoulders at him to let him know she didn’t know Alan could do this.
The crowd was definitely entranced, and so was Grandma. Her hands were clasped to her chest, and she looked delighted with the man.
Lilith was delighted as well. As he told his story of the war between the houses of Hanover and Stewart for control of the British throne, and the details of the men who’d fought at Bonnie’s side, Lilith set down her tray, unable to look away.
As he told the story, he relaxed, the tale coming easier, as his rich, deep voice captivated the crowd. She could almost see them fighting—friends, brothers, and clans—toward victory and defeat. She was used to Alan’s reserved manner, but as she watched him come out of his shell and entertain everyone, she realized he was a natural at this.
He’d really picked up the slack for them this evening, and she felt herself relaxing.
As he finished with the tale of the 79 ghosts who’d risen, trapped and lonely upon the moor at Culloden, East of Inverness, there was more than one hand over a heart. More than one sniffling in the crowd.
As he finished, everyone clapped enthusiastically, and he looked over at her.
She smiled at him, and his lips curved in response. This guy could just do no wrong in her opinion.
One of the neighbors, Mrs. Abernathy, leaned over to whisper. “Did your grandmother hire him for tonight? This is just stupendous!”
She smiled. “He’s staying with us at the moment.”
“Oh. Is he your boyfriend, dear?”
The question tightened her chest.
She really wished that were true. He was fun, thoughtful, attractive, but with things so unsettled, it was the wrong time to develop a romantic attachment.
Her gaze was drawn back to him.
But why not? She really liked him, her daughter adored him, and so did Grandma. Maybe these things didn’t always come about right when they were supposed to, but did it really matter?
She felt her heart crack wide open and smiled. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
The woman nodded meaningfully and Lilith’s smile widened.
Somehow, someway, maybe it could work out. Maybe he could somehow be hers.
Chapter 7
Everyone was invited into the dining room. The crowd was now primed and ready for the finale and followed along, cheerful and expectant.
They took seats around the table and on the chairs around the edges of the room. After they were situated, Grandma stood at the end of the table.
“I’m so glad everyone could make it tonight.” Down the center lay heirlooms, artifacts, and quilts, probably collected by her ancestors over the last 150 years.
“I want to thank everyone for coming, and welcome you to this séance.” Miss Celia gestured to a large portrait painting of a distinguished man on an easel beside her. “We are going to try to contact my great-great-grandfather so he can tell us where the treasure is buried.”
Smiles all around.
“There’s been a rumor in my family since the time he died that, despondent, he hid his treasure before jumping off the roof.”
A ripple of excitement raced through the crowd.
Alan, leaning in the doorway, felt it as well.
She didn’t say anything about the house going into foreclosure, but he assumed everyone at the table knew why she wanted this treasure. She was definitely well liked, and he’d no doubt everyone wished her joy in this endeavor.
She took her seat. “Lilith, will you please close the curtains?”
Lilith did so, and somehow dimmed the light from the chandelier hanging over the long table, too. The room was plunged into semi-darkness.
As Miss Celia explained earlier, it was all part of the show.
“If everyone will please join hands?”
Another ripple of excitement rushed through the crowd as they all did so.
Alan kept his place.
Miss Celia set a shallow bowl in front of her, lit a match and threw it in. When she did, a spark of fire burst forth, and everyone in the room whispered once again as the excitement level grew. She joined hands with the men sitting on either side of her and bowed her head as the smell of herbs filled the air.
“I would like to call upon the spirits and invite my great-great-grandfather Caleb Alexander Herrick to join us this day.” Everyone waited, and Alan crossed his arms and looked about expectantly.
“Grandfather, I would ask you to appear, to have one last chance to save your house. The house you worked so hard to build over more than a decade. It’s been Herrick House for generations, and we’d hate to see it pass out of the family. We invite you to communicate with us.”
Though he’d been expecting the wraith, Alan was more surprised than anyone when a man, arms crossed and looking belligerent, appeared next to the portrait of Miss Celia’s grandfather.
Slim, dark-haired, and well-dressed in a black evening coat, he bore a definite resemblance to the man in the painting.
Satisfaction filled Alan as the guests glanced around, but no one seemed to notice the new arrival.
Miss Celia opened her eyes, looked left and right, directly at the man, and continued on. “Grandfather, we ask that you give us the information we need.”
“Once again, I’m right here, Celia.” The man snapped. “If you’d simply open thy eyes and see the truth of the matter.”
Alan straightened from the wall. He glanced around but was the only one who seemed to notice the ghost.
“This is the last chance you will have to save the house you built. It’ll pass into other hands, probably rich folks from California.”
Amid chuckles from the crowd, the ghost leaned close to her ear. “I’m right here you daft cow!”
She forced a slight smile. “We’ll try again. I just ask that everyone here have faith. Perhaps if we hold hands differently. Let’s try crossing arms and cupping fingers.”
Everyone obligingly did as Miss Celia asked.
The ghost shook his head and snorted.
“Grandfather?”
“Still here.” The man said, disgruntled.
“We’re waiting to hear from you.” Miss Celia stared into the small fire, still throwing shadows around the room. Her eyes brightened with unshed tears.
She sighed. “Well, he’s not here, again. I had to give it one last shot though, didn’t I?”
As everyone started to commiserate, Alan glanced around once more. Surely someone else would note the man? He cleared his throat. “Miss Celia?”
“Yes?”
He didn’t wish to embarrass the lady, but finally had to say something. “He’s right there beside ye.”
“What?” She looked to either side, but obviously didn’t see the ghost.
“Aye. Right there, beside his portrait.”
He gl
anced around to see if anyone else had noticed.
The man, or rather the ghost, gaped at Alan in astonishment. “Pray, thy pardon. You can see me?”
“Aye, verra well.”
Miss Celia looked one way, then the other.
“To your left, ma’am.”
The ghost waved a hand in front of her face.
She glanced back at Alan, and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see anyone.”
“But you can see me! What cheer!” The ghost spoke directly to Alan this time, gesturing with his hands. “My name is Caleb Alexander Herrick. It was my neighbor! He murdered me!” He spoke fast, as if trying to get the words out before he disappeared.
“I would never have jumped! Never would I have done such a thing. I cannot stand that my family thinks me capable of such a cowardly act. The shame! And my neighbor then married my wife! I want all exposed! Celia has called me repeatedly but she’s never given me so much as a how do you fare! Come man, you might be my last chance!”
Alan relayed the fact that the ghost had appeared in the past.
“He’s been here before?” Miss Celia was visibly excited. “I knew it!”
Everyone glanced around until, eventually, they stared straight at Alan.
Lilith gave a slight shake of her head, her disapproval evident.
Alan’s stomach sank. He was the only one who saw the wraith, and from the skeptical looks he was receiving, beyond Miss Celia, not one soul believed him. He grimaced in dismay.
“Tell them the whole of it!”
“The man says his name is Caleb Alexander Herrick. He says his neighbor murdered him, and then married his wife.”
“Murdered!” Miss Celia’s mouth gaped for a moment before her expression became hopeful. “Ask him where the treasure is? Where did he hide it?”
“Did ye stash a treasure here, mon?” Alan held his breath.
“Yes, I most assuredly did.” His tone was smug. “Much good it did Amos. But I’ll only be telling thee where the treasure is after you have cleared my good name. I no longer want my neighbor buried next to my wife. I insist Amos Leach be moved to another location. Preferably to the garbage heap upon which he belongs!”
Alan relayed the message as he met Lilith’s angry gaze.
Miss Celia looked stunned. “This is incredible!”
“He says he was murdered by a man named Amos Leach.”
“I was murdered, fool! Strangled and thrown from the roof!”
Miss Celia’s mouth parted and she looked stunned. “Amos Leach married his wife after he committed suicide.”
“I did not kill myself!” The wraith lost his temper entirely, swung fists at his portrait, kicked the wall behind him, screeching the circumstances of his death, his shameful burial, and his demands going forward.
Nothing in the physical world was touched.
“Aye, then, he vehemently denies the suicide. Says he’s buried in an unmarked grave outside the cemetery, and wishes to be laid to rest next to his wife.”
The police chief stood, and pinned Alan with a steely-eyed gaze. “Now hold on just a minute. What’s this about a murder?”
Miss Celia jumped to her feet. “Let’s just go and see, shall we?” Excitement evident, she hurried around the table and her guests were quick to follow.
Alan had a feeling he’d soon be digging once more.
Everyone, excited and chattering, headed outside into the warm evening air. High heels and all, they headed across the lawn to the back of the house.
Lilith wasn’t sure what to think or feel. She was trying to figure out whether Alan was pulling everyone’s collective leg, or not.
He had to be, didn’t he? She’d seen earlier what a wonderful storyteller he was.
But the details here … he’d certainly convinced Grandma, but Lilith wasn’t clear about what they were going to do. Find the treasure? Just like that?
She followed. Alan grabbed the shovel leaning against the house and they all headed to the back of the property. He finally stopped just outside the family cemetery and dug the tip of the shovel into the dirt. He glanced around at everyone. “The ghost says to dig here.” Alan jammed the point into the ground once more.
Grandma looked excited. “What does he say about the treasure? Is it here?”
Alan, looking visibly uncomfortable, searched the crowd, until his apologetic gaze landed on her. He didn’t look like he was teasing them. He looked decisive when he said, “The treasure is not here.”
“So, what is?”
“The man’s body.”
There was a gasp, and laughter in the crowd.
Lilith’s mouth parted. Why was he doing this? Was he trying to make fools of them all?
“His body!” Miss Celia sounded shocked as well.
“Aye,” Alan agreed. “His bones, anyway.”
The police chief was indignant. “You’re taking this too far, Mr. MacBean. You’d better be making this up.”
Alan, face lit by the evening twilight, looked resigned.
“But what about the treasure?” Miss Celia sounded so confused.
“Only after his good name is restored, will he comment upon the treasure. Once ’tis reported to the police that his murderer was his neighbor Amos Leach, and that he strangled him before pushing him off the roof, only then will he reveal where the treasure is.”
Lilith, shook her head. Was Alan serious? She was more than a little confused about why he would do this.
But Grandma was smiling, happy, and excited. Other than the police chief, who stood unsmiling and unamused, everyone else at the party seemed to be thrilled as well. Maybe she was just a stick in the mud, and should enjoy the fun while it lasted. If it was all revealed to be a prank in the end, well, at least it was a memorable one.
“What should the rest of us do? Shall we dig up some of the others?”
“Were we supposed to bring her own shovels?” A neighbor called out amid much laughter.
Alan released a long breath. “Not to worry, I will do the work.”
She waited for him to crack a smile, but he looked deadly serious.
She glanced around at the crowd. Everyone was having fun, and it was a party atmosphere, with just a dash of expectation. She wanted to tell him to quit encouraging Grandma in her delusion, but why not just go with it? This was a séance, after all. Alan was turning out to have quite a few more layers than she’d expected. Was he simply trying to entertain?
Once again, she glanced at Grandma. She was chatting, full of laughter and expectation. Maybe Alan was right to give Grandma good memories on her last few nights here. She would talk about this for years to come.
Who was Lilith to stand in the way of fun, even if it was a bit on the ghoulish side?
She finally smiled, wanting to give in and believe, or at least play along and support Alan if it turned into a joke. So, let the digging continue.
She moved in for a better view as Alan scooped a shovelful of dirt.
As Alan deepened the hole, many in the crowd took turns peering into the growing hollow.
“Are you about done wasting our time, Mr. MacBean?” The police chief stood at the edge. “This has been very entertaining, but you’re not going to find anything.”
Alan hesitated. He was quite sure he would find something and wondered what sort of reaction he’d get from this crowd.
He continued to dig, throwing more dirt onto the growing pile off to one side. This bit of unpleasantness would pass when he saved the day, the house, after revealing the treasure.
He could only imagine Miss Lilith’s gratitude.
“Do you need some help?” Another of the gentleman offered.
“Nae, I’ve got it.”
“He’s a very good digger,” Miss Celia praised, her sincerity and admiration warming his insides.
It didn’t take long to dig a few more feet down, and when he was in the hole to his shoulders, he hit some broken boards and leaned down to toss them out of the hole, then
cleared the area.
Excitement from the crowd grew louder.
It wasn’t long after, a patch of white was revealed.
Alan stopped digging, got down on his knees, and moved dirt with his hands.
A skull, and part of a skeleton were quickly revealed. He sat back on his heels, so the others could see.
Flashlights from cell phones lit the wood, dirt, and bones. Alan had seen such technology at Culloden Moor, so they held no mystery.
There were gasps of surprise, but Alan simply felt relief. The dead held no fear for him. He’d done his part and hoped the ghost would now tell him what he wished to know.
“Make way.”
Alan stood and moved back and the police chief jumped into the grave. He shot Alan a look of suspicion, and brushed more dirt away from the skull before shining a light directly on the bones. He brushed aside more dirt, then blew with his mouth before sitting back. “The hyoid bone is visibly cracked. Whoever this was, he or she was strangled to death.” Again, he looked at Alan with suspicion.
Alan ignored him and hauled himself out of the hole. He glanced around at the staring, smiling, whispering crowd until he found Lilith. Olivia was on her hip and she looked surprised, but perhaps not so pleased. In fact, she looked slightly worried.
The police chief was calling on his phone now, requesting assistance. Alan wasn’t sure what he planned to do since the man had been dead for over a hundred years, but Alan was more concerned with the ghost anyway. He wanted him to keep his end of the bargain.
Lilith approached him. “That was brilliant. How could you possibly have known where to dig?”
He glanced around, but didn’t see the ghost. “Yer grandfather knew exactly where he was buried. All wraiths do.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “You certainly know how to entertain.”
The only entertainment Alan wished to provide was to reveal the treasure. The ghost had better stick to their bargain.
He realized he was staring at Lilith and dropped his gaze. He needed to remember to keep his eyes on task. He’d be leaving soon. Did he wish to leave his heart behind as well?
Anyway, he had a ghost to talk to.
