Ghosts of Culloden Moor 30 - MacBean (Darcy)

by L. L. Muir

  Chapter 8

  Standing beside Alan, Lilith was still sort of in shock that their party had taken such a turn. A ghost, a grave, and now a homicide investigation?

  The crowd stood back as detectives, alongside specialists, dug up bones and dirt, placing it all on plastic to be transported elsewhere.

  One of the specialists mentioned it was a very old body. After that, the police chief had relaxed and stopped treating Alan like a potential suspect.

  That was good as the last thing she needed was for Alan to be arrested on suspicion of murder.

  Not one of their guests had gone home yet. Everybody was milling about in their finery and watching the spectacle, almost as if waiting to see what would happen next.

  Well, she was waiting to see what would happen next too. The body made the possibility that the ghost of her grandfather had actually shown up seem real. There was absolutely no way she could think of that Alan could have known that body was there.

  “Alan, do you suppose that means the treasure is real as well?”

  He shrugged. “Only one way to find out. Yer grandfather wishes to hear his murderer named to the police. Only then will he reveal what he knows.”

  She gave him a nudge. “Well, let’s finish it then.”

  Alan glanced around brows furrowed.

  “Is he here? Do you see him?”

  “Nae. Let’s make an announcement and see if that draws him out.” Alan took a breath. “Gather around, I’ve something to say.”

  Everyone moved closer and the police took notice.

  “The murdered man is Caleb Herrick. His murderer is nae other than his neighbor, Amos Leach.”

  Miss Celia stepped forward. “Amos Leach married my great-great-grandmother after my grandfather committed suicide.” She looked at the bones laid out on plastic, and the open grave. “Or rather, after he was murdered,” she corrected.

  Grandma glanced around, looking hopeful. “I have every intention of removing Amos from the family cemetery so my grandfather can be buried next to his wife on consecrated ground.”

  With an air of expectation, they all turned to look at Alan, to see what would happen next.

  “Gahhh!” The ghost was suddenly there again, angry and upset. “Amos Leach coveted my wife, my life, and my property, for who knows what length of time before he finally gathered courage enough to murder me! He … He …”

  The ghost exploded into a rant again, having what looked to be a meltdown. Alan had seen it happen many a time upon the moor. There was only so much a man could take, in life or in death, until he exploded.

  With the police there, and everyone standing about, Alan didn’t feel he could say aught. Words rarely calmed an emotional wraith anyway—something else he knew from past experience. He’d done his part, now they needed to see if the ghost would keep to his bargain.

  “Let’s go back to the house.” He hoped the ghost would follow.

  As everyone filed into the dining room, Alan took the time to wash his hands, splash water on his face, and look into the mirror. He wasn’t comforted by what he saw there. His jaw was too square, his nose hadn’t healed well after a fight or two, and he wasn’t exactly friendly to look upon either.

  He didn’t like that Miss Lilith might have made these observations as well.

  He went back inside and joined the others.

  “There you are, Alan.” Miss Celia’s hands fluttered about. “Do you see my grandfather anywhere?”

  He glanced around. “I doonae.”

  “Shall we hold hands and call him back again?”

  He simply shrugged, but wondered if the ghost had time enough to calm.

  Everyone took a seat again, reaching for their neighbor’s hands as Alan took his position against the entry wall once more.

  Miss Celia called upon her grandfather. “Caleb Herrick, we ask that you appear before us!”

  The ghost immediately appeared, looking much calmer. “Pray thee, where did everyone go?” He said crossly.

  Alan jerked his chin toward the apparition. “He’s here, does anyone else see him this time? He’s in the corner next to Miss Celia.”

  Those seated closest jerked back, looking frantically about. After a moment everyone admitted that no, they didn’t see him. There were a few suspicious glances thrown his way again.

  Miss Celia took a deep breath. “Alan, will you please ask about the treasure?” Her eyes were bright and sparkling.

  Alan nodded. “Caleb. Can ye tell us about the treasure? Where did ye bury it?”

  “You do realize my wife was stolen from me? My wife, and my life.”

  “Aye.” Alan nodded sympathetically. He well knew the sting of feeling powerless over a life taken too soon. “Ye were robbed.” Alan tried for a comforting tone. “The man certainly did ye wrong. He did yer wife wrong as well, though she knew it not.”

  The man, or rather the ghost, exploded again. “Lived in my house, didn’t he? Had my wife in his bed, didn’t he? The man was a blackguard and a murdering thief!”

  “He was at that.” Alan quickly relayed the ghost’s feelings on the subject to the crowd. Again, he offered sympathy for the man’s grievances. “Amos didnae find yer treasure, though, did he?”

  That seemed to cheer the wraith a bit. “You’re right! He did not, did he? And he certainly looked.”

  “Ye were right clever to hide it away as ye did.”

  “I had my suspicions, even then. I must have sensed what was coming.”

  “Aye, I suspect that’s the way of it.”

  The man paced, though his wispy feet never touched the ground. “Yes! It was precisely that way! I knew something was up! Could feel it coming, though I just did not know exactly what was afoot.”

  “Weel, Miss Celia here is yer rightful heir, descended directly from ye. A true great-granddaughter. Three sit here, in fact.” He indicated Lilith with Olivia sitting on her lap. “They wish to make sure things are arranged to yer satisfaction. Just so I ken, we are to move the murderer from his grave beside yer wife and place ye at her side?”

  “Yes! I want him ousted!”

  “We hear yer concern and Miss Celia has pledged to do as ye wish. But she’s a concern of her own. She’s worried she might lose this house for lack of funds. Mayhap to someone despicable the likes of the Leach clan.”

  “What?”

  “Aye, that’s the concern. We’re hoping ye can tell us where the treasure is, so we can thwart the Leaches and make sure they never get their grubby hands on this property again.”

  “You say she’s my rightful relative?” He sounded doubtful.

  “Aye. A direct descendant from ye and yer wife.”

  “Well, if she’s my rightful relative, she has the key, doesn’t she? Tell her to use it! Fare thee well.”

  With a slight bow, he disappeared.

  Alan took a breath and glanced around the room at those staring directly at him. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Aye.” Alan was a little shocked at the ghost’s abrupt departure himself. They’d spent a lot of time at Culloden Moor wondering what came next. Had he just witnessed it and seen naught?

  “What did he say?” Miss Celia asked the question.

  “He said ye have the key, and that ye’re to use it.”

  Miss Celia clutched the key she wore around her neck. “But what else?”

  Alan shook his head. “Naught that wasnae already said.”

  “Call him up again,” one of the women suggested.

  The crowd quickly joined hands and Miss Celia called Caleb once more. She looked expectantly at Alan.

  They all did. He reluctantly shook his head. “He’s gone. I think mayhap he moved on.”

  “But he didn’t give us enough!” Miss Celia was visibly upset.

  Alan blew out a breath. Why didn’t the blasted ghost give him more? “I’m sorry. That was all.”

  “Let’s search the house for locks!” One man suggested.

&n
bsp; Miss Celia looked on the verge of tears. “I’ve done that. We all have. I can’t think where else to look.”

  Alan released a breath. He knew what it was to be a ghost. They didn’t truly care about the living. Not for any length of time anyway. They didn’t care about money, or possessions. What they cared about was injustice, emotions, memories. Things left undone.

  Lilith looked devastated as well.

  Alan’s jaw clenched. What should he have done differently?

  “Well,” A woman said. “Let’s at least try and find the treasure!” He could see she forced cheerfulness, and appreciated the effort. Though surely generations had searched every single keyhole and turned every lock over the long years the family had owned the place.

  Why couldn’t the ghost have told them something new?

  The ghost did, however, convince him there was a treasure to be found.

  Just no time left in which to find it.

  He’d failed, hadn’t he?

  The girls, his lasses, would have to move out within days.

  Lilith was determined to search.

  For the first time in a long while, she started to believe there actually might be a treasure!

  She thought about the locks, doors, and closets in the house.

  Could they have missed something over the years?

  It was doubtful, but she was determined to give it one last shot.

  Maybe, with everyone helping them, someone might find something long overlooked.

  Clutching Olivia close, she stood and took a deep breath. “A key implies the treasure is indoors! So? Is anyone up for a treasure hunt?” She put as much cheer into her tone as possible. “Grandma, show everyone the key!”

  With a glimmer of hope, Grandma lifted the skeleton key high in the air. “You’re right, my dear. We have to try, don’t we? And we’ve many hands to make light work. Let’s search the place from top to bottom!”

  A cheer rose from the room and soon everyone was getting in the spirit, pairing off, and swarming through the house.

  Chapter 9

  A few hours later, they’d found naught.

  The shouts of excitement as the key had been passed from group to group as they’d tried different doors, cupboards, and closets had long since died.

  Alan couldn’t help but fume. Couldn’t the ghost have given him the information, man-to-man, or ghost-to-ghost, so to speak? He felt responsible, like he should have somehow gotten more out of the wraith.

  These were his kin; didn’t that mean aught to him?

  They were in need!

  At least he’d searched with Lilith and Olivia. Every moment spent together was branded in his memory.

  As if reading his mind, Lilith turned and asked once again. “Are you sure she’s not too heavy for you?”

  “She is light as a feather.” The little girl slumbered on his shoulder as they searched, rousing protective feelings within him as he held her close.

  Lilith rubbed her daughter’s back.

  He would do anything to find the treasure for them.

  By now, the house had been gone over, top to bottom, bottom to top, and no one had found anything new. There was just nowhere new to look.

  As they moved up the attic stairs, Alan pounded the side of his fist against the brick, hoping for a hollow sound, or mayhap just wanting to punish himself.

  Lilith turned and took his hand, and led him the rest of the way up. Her smooth skin, the way she continued to look at him in that soft way—all of it left him slightly breathless and feeling dizzy.

  He would do anything for her. Why couldn’t he have asked better questions of the ghost? Why had the man been so cryptic? As far as Alan was concerned, he’d broken their deal.

  Mayhap they should throw his bones upon the garbage heap.

  As they stood in the middle of the attic and looked around, she continued to hold his hand in hers. He felt as if he could stand there forever, one arm supporting the child, and his fingers entwined with Lilith’s.

  He had a hard time believing she could be attracted to him. He was a bruiser, hesitant with women, and knew it. Still, as the hours went by, she continued to seem comfortable in his presence, even seemed glad to be with him.

  From down the stairs, voices rang out that people were giving up and leaving.

  Lilith looked up at him and sighed. “So, I guess that’s it? If we can’t find anything with this crowd of enthusiasts, what are our chances?” She didn’t cry, but he could see the sadness in her, had felt it building over the hours. “Let’s go thank everyone, shall we?”

  They walked down the stairs and stood together at the entry with Miss Celia as everyone expressed good wishes and said their goodbyes. It was one-thirty in the morning by the time everyone went home.

  Alan was so disappointed, cursing himself for not doing things differently. Why hadn’t he held out and told the ghost they’d do as he wished, once he’d told them where the treasure was?

  He carried Olivia back upstairs, and watched as Lilith gently placed her in bed.

  Miss Celia paused in the doorway. Looking exhausted, she still tried for a slight smile. “Good night.”

  “Grandma, I’m sorry we didn’t find the treasure.”

  Miss Celia looked at the two of them. “You know, you both have a lot in common. You both want to take care of the people you care about.”

  Alan’s jaw clenched. Would that he could.

  “Don’t worry. I promise you—it will all work out.”

  Lilith did look worried. “Would you like me to send you a cup of cocoa up the dumbwaiter?”

  “Thank you, dear. That would be nice. I’ll come get it after I get my pajamas on.” Miss Celia went to her room and softly shut the door.

  Alan followed Lilith down the stairs and watched as she made the cocoa.

  Her fists clenched for a moment. “If she says it’s all going to work out, one more time, I’m going to scream.”

  He didn’t respond.

  After she sent the cocoa up, she crossed to him, took his hand and held it in her own. “Thank you, Alan, for everything you’ve done.”

  Before he realized what she intended to do, she raised herself on her toes and brushed her lips to his. “Goodnight.”

  Mouth tingling, arms aching to hold her close, he watched her go.

  He’d always been known as a fighter. He had tenacity, and never called it quits.

  He picked up the key Miss Celia had left on the hall table.

  He’d slept enough over the centuries.

  He had no intention of giving up the search.

  Lilith went upstairs to check on her daughter, plugged in the baby monitor, grabbed the remote, and went back downstairs again.

  She found Alan in the kitchen looking into a cupboard, but she didn’t think he was hungry. “You’re still searching, aren’t you?”

  He turned around, looking slightly at a loss. “Aye.”

  She gave a soft laugh. “Do you want some company?”

  “I’d like that.”

  They slowly walked around the kitchen, opened all the cupboards, looked for hidden locks and doors, and found nothing.

  Alan blew out a breath. “Where shall we look next?”

  “Since we looked upstairs earlier, let’s go through all the rooms down here. We could start with your room.”

  They walked past the ballroom to the back of the house. “I’m glad you’re here, Alan. I honestly don’t know what to make of what happened earlier with the ghost, but you certainly made it fun.”

  “Ye dinnae believe me, then?”

  She considered all she’d seen that night. “Actually, I did.”

  He gave her a pleased look and a short nod. They opened the guest room closet, and started pulling out the sleeping bags and blankets. “This is the room me and my cousins used to sleep in when we were young. As you can imagine, in a house like this, it was always fun to have sleepovers.”

  “I would think so. This closet isn’t ne
arly so deep as yers. Is it magical, as well?” His tone was teasing.

  “Magical?”

  “Ye said yers would take ye to another place.”

  “Oh, right. Narnia. It’s a reference to a children story about magic.”

  “Mmft.” He made a guttural, doubtful sound deep in his throat.

  She stopped moving a bin filled with blankets to glance up. “What?”

  “Oft times, legends have some gain of truth to them. Mayhap ye heard the place was magical before ye named it such. We might want another look.”

  “At my closet?”

  “Why not?”

  Why not, indeed? Were he any other man, Lilith might think he was trying to get her alone in her bedroom in the middle of the night, but with her reserved Highlander, she doubted that was the case.

  She was hyper-aware of him as they finished searching the guest room closet and replaced the items. They climbed the stairs, and turned the lights on in her bedroom, then in the closet. The light wasn’t bright enough for the nooks and crannies, so, once again, Lilith used her phone as a flashlight.

  After a quick look at the high ceiling, the wood floor, and the spaces on the walls that weren’t covered with shelves, drawers, boxes, or clothing, she slid her blouses hanging on the closet rod to the side.

  Alan breathed in deeply. “It smells of ye in here.”

  She flushed. “Um … okay. I hope that’s a good thing.”

  He gave her an intense look. “’Tis a verra good thing.”

  Maybe she’d read the situation wrong after all. The intimacy of being alone with him in her bedroom in the middle of the night was making her have a difficult time catching her breath. She turned her attention to her clothes and took a huge bundle off the rod. “We might as well move all this. I’ll be packing it up tomorrow, anyway.”

  Alan helped her pile her possessions beside her bed and then they searched the closet more carefully. He started running his hands over the wooden walls an inch at a time.

  After a few minutes he asked, “What’s this?”

  “What do you see?”

  She shined her light where he pointed high on the back wall near the ceiling. “Oh. It’s just a knothole in the wood.”