by Terri Reid
“Good idea,” Mary said as she pushed herself to her feet. “Okay, I’ll go upstairs and pack.”
“Packing’s gotta wait,” Mike said. “Rosie and Stanley are here.”
Ian stood up and shook his head. “You go on up,” he said. “I’ll talk with them. Then we can leave as soon as possible.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Ian!” Rosie exclaimed when he opened the door for them. “I had no idea you would be here.”
Ian leaned forward and kissed Rosie’s cheek. “Well, darling,” he said, “I just couldn’t keep myself away from you.” Then he winked at her. “And your cooking.”
She smiled back. “I made a peach pie yesterday…” she began.
“I ate it all,” Stanley inserted quickly, frowning at Ian. “Every last bite.”
Rosie turned and stared at him. “You did what?”
Realizing what he’d just said, Stanley shook his head and began to stammer. “Er, um, what I meant to say,” he began, clearly faltering for a viable explanation. In desperation, he sent a look of pure despair to Ian.
“Ah, well, I hate to disrupt this discussion,” Ian inserted, “but we really have a serious situation on our hands.”
Rosie turned back to Ian. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Last night, a shadowy figure tried to harm Mary,” Ian said.
“Oh, no!” Rosie exclaimed, hurrying into the house. “She didn’t say anything over the phone. Is she okay?”
Stanley walked in behind her, and Ian closed the door. “Aye, she’s fine,” Ian said. “Mike was able to help her. But they felt the situation was serious enough to call me.”
“A shadowy figure,” Stanley said, forgetting his earlier distress. “Like the one Rosie said she saw?”
Ian nodded slowly. “Exactly right,” he said. “And that’s why Mary was so insistent you both come by.”
“Well, she was goldurn right to ask us to come over,” Stanley exclaimed. “And, iffen you don’t mind me saying so, she probably should have called us last night when she called you. We’re part of the team, too.”
Ian studied Stanley for a long moment. He could see the disappointment in the older man’s eyes, see the pride in his stance and the courage in the slight lift of his chin. This was a man who would sacrifice for the people he loved, and a man who had proven that he was someone you could rely on.
“You’re right, Stanley,” Ian said earnestly. “We should have called you and kept you in the loop. You are a vital part of the team.”
The look of disappointment disappeared from Stanley’s eyes, and he smiled. “Well, I’m here now,” he said with a shrug. “That’s all that matters.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Ian replied. “Why don’t we sit at the table. I can explain what’s going on here, and then you can tell me about what happened last night.”
They sat at the table, and Ian gave them an overview of what had happened to Mary the night before, including her dream.
“Well, how odd,” Rosie replied. “Because it was about the same time Mary came downstairs the second time that I was in the living room.” She shot a quick glance at Stanley and then turned back to Ian. “I was having trouble sleeping.”
“What did you see?” Ian asked.
“Well, I actually saw it several times,” she explained. “A shadow on the wall near the Christmas tree. At first I thought it was my imagination, but then I saw it again. Then I thought it might be a smear on my glasses, but it wasn’t. Finally, I saw it again, and I walked over to the Christmas tree and took the packages away from it, to see if some cat or something had gotten into the house.”
“But you didn’t find anything?” Ian asked.
She shook her head. “No, nothing at all,” she said. “So, I went to bed.”
“Back in your bedroom?” Ian asked.
“No,” she said. “I was feeling restless, so I slept on the couch.”
“She’s just being nice,” Stanley interrupted. “I was snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Poor Rosie couldn’t sleep next to me, so she went into the living room.”
“How did you feel?” Ian asked.
“Angry as all get out,” Rosie replied. “He sounded like a freight train running through the middle of the bed.”
Ian smiled and bit back a chuckle. “No, I mean when you saw the shadow,” he explained. “How did you feel?”
She thought about it for a moment. “It made my skin crawl,” she finally said. “As a matter of fact, when I finally laid down, I turned away from the room and covered up as much as I could. I felt a little foolish, but it made me feel safer.”
“Not foolish at all,” Ian said. “That was your primal instinct guiding you. Your subconscious felt there was danger, and you instinctively sheltered yourself.”
“Oh, well, that does make me feel a little better,” she replied. “So, the shadowy figure, is it dangerous?”
“We think so,” Ian said. “But we don’t know. And, because there was a shadowy figure here at the same time, we can’t be quite sure the same one was at your house.”
“How many goldurn shadowy figures are running around?” Stanley asked.
“I wish I could tell you, Stanley,” Ian said. “But I will tell you that if Rosie felt her skin crawl, I would definitely take that as a sign that it could be dangerous.”
“So, how do I protect Rosie?” Stanley asked.
“Right now, we’re working on a theory that the spirit we’re dealing with is the boy from Mary’s dream.”
“The one that set fire to the house?” Rosie asked.
“Yes,” Ian replied. “And we’re going up to Wisconsin to revisit the asylum and see if we can learn anything more about the boy.”
“And in the meantime, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Stanley said. “Iffen you’re right and my snoring can wake the dead, maybe it can scare ‘em away, too.”
“Just make sure your fire alarms are in working order,” Ian said. “And be careful. We’ll let you know as soon as we find something out.”
Chapter Fifteen
About an hour later, Bradley entered the house carrying a large cardboard box filled with electronic equipment. “Wyatt let me borrow everything he had,” he said, walking through the living room and placing the box on the table.
Then he put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a set of keys. “And here are the directions and the keys to the summer house.”
Mary peeked over the top of the box. “We should leave some of this here, for you and for Rosie and Stanley,” Mary suggested. “What do you think, Ian?”
Ian glanced over at Bradley. “How big is this summer house?” he asked.
“I’ve never been in it,” Bradley said. “But it sounds more like a cottage than a house. A couple of bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. I don’t think there’s even a basement.”
“Everything on one floor?” Ian asked.
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, there’s only one floor.”
Ian picked up the various monitors. “With my equipment and a couple of these, we will be more than protected,” he said. “And, even though you have Mike, I think it wouldn’t hurt for you to have a couple of them on stand-by.”
“How about Rosie and Stanley?” Bradley asked.
“I think they need some too,” Ian said. “Whatever visited them last night was not friendly.”
“Okay, take what you need, and I’ll distribute the rest,” Bradley said. Then he turned to Mary. “Do you have everything you need?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, my suitcase is upstairs,” she said. “I packed for a week, but I don’t think we’ll be up there that long.”
He paused for a moment. “So, did you actually pack for a couple of days, but you have enough clothes for a week?” he teased. “Or did you pack for a week and have enough clothes for a month?”
Her smile turned to a grin, and she shrugged. “It’s always wise to be prepared,” she said.
Tur
ning to Ian, Bradley shook his head. “I hope you brought your large SUV,” he said. “Or, I could hook up a trailer to your car.”
“It canna be that bad,” Ian replied, looking a little worried.
“Oh, yes, it can,” Bradley said.
Laughing, Mary shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she said. “I only have one suitcase filled with clothes and one tote filled with toiletries.”
“Toiletries?” Ian said. “A tote filled with toiletries?”
Bradley nodded. “That’s what I said the first time we traveled together,” he said. “Body wash, deodorant, shampoo and razor blades. One quart-sized Ziploc™ and we’re good, right?”
“Aye,” Ian said. “And I tend to use the body wash as shampoo.” He looked at Mary. “What could you possibly have in a tote?”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand it, even if I explained it,” she said. “I tried with Bradley, and it was totally incomprehensible to him.”
“They have hair products,” Bradley said. “They don’t just shampoo. They have to condition, and then they have to oil, gloss, smooth, wax and spray. Or something like that.”
“Sounds like a car wash,” Ian said.
“That’s what I said,” Bradley said. “Before she threw something at me.”
“It was a pillow,” Mary replied. “And you deserved it.”
“And I won’t even go into everything they put on their faces in the morning, after washing, toning, moisturizing and priming,” Bradley added.
“Priming?” Ian said, looking from Bradley to Mary. “Priming?”
“You will never understand what we do to make ourselves beautiful for you,” Mary replied.
“See, that’s the thing,” Bradley said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I see her first thing in the morning, without all that stuff, and she is already the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She smiled up at him. “Okay, that was nice,” she said. “And you are totally out of the dog house for saying all of that other stuff. Now, come on upstairs and help me carry my stuff down.”
Bradley chuckled. “We’ll be down in a minute,” he said to Ian.
“Take your time,” he said. “I’ll load up the things from Wyatt and then rearrange the back of the SUV so I can fit Mary’s things.”
“Very funny,” Mary said as she walked up the stairs to the sound of Ian’s chuckles.
Once she and Bradley were in the bedroom, she closed the door and turned to him, her arms folded over her chest. “I’ll be fine,” she said softly.
He sighed and put down the suitcase he’d just lifted. “I was that obvious?” he asked.
She walked across the room and wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his tall, sturdy frame. “I understand locker room banter,” she said. “You talk about inconsequential things so you’re not thinking about what’s out there on the street waiting for you.”
He hugged her, and laid his cheek against the top of her head. “It’s killing me to let you leave,” he whispered. “Not knowing what you’re facing. Not being there for you.”
She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest. “I know,” she said. “But I’ll be careful. I won’t take any risks.”
“Ian won’t let you take any risks,” he muttered.
She laughed softly. “There’s that too,” she agreed. “And I won’t endanger my life or Mikey’s life.” She looked up at him. “I have way too much to live for.”
“I love you, Mary,” he said, his heart in his eyes.
“I love you back,” she replied and then leaned up to press her lips against his. Then she stepped back and nodded. “Be safe and be careful here. As soon as we figure out what or who we’re dealing with, I’ll let you know.”
He kissed her on her forehead and then picked up her suitcase. “Solve this case quickly,” he said. “I don’t like sleeping alone anymore.”
She grinned. “And I don’t like you sleeping alone.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t want you sleeping alone in the living room,” Stanley argued. “I’m the one that’s snoring. I should sleep on the couch.”
Rosie shook her head. “With your bad back, one night on the couch would have you doubled over in pain. I can sleep on the couch.”
“I ain’t having you out here facing them shadow creatures,” Stanley replied.
“You ain’t. I mean, you aren’t,” Rosie exclaimed. “I may be your wife, but that doesn’t mean you get to order me around.”
Stanley sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I ain’t trying to order you around, Rosie,” he said softly. “I’m just trying to protect you. And I gotta protect you, ‘cause I love you.”
Shaking her head, Rosie sat down on a chair, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Stanley, I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess this whole shadowy ghost thing has me on edge.”
He walked over to her and rubbed her back. “And I’m guessing you ain’t had much sleep on account of my snoring, on top of everything else.”
She nodded, pulling out a handkerchief and blotting her eyes. “Well, not as much as I’m used to,” she admitted. “Still, that’s no reason to bicker with you.”
He moved over in front of her and sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face her. He took her hands in his and met her eyes. “Ain’t it funny that as folks get closer to Christmas, it seems like tempers flare up more and folks lose patience with each other? Like the spirit of good will has to battle against spirits of anger, impatience and meanness.”
Rosie thought about his words for a moment. “You know, I wonder if that isn’t true,” she replied. “There’s always a battle between good and evil. I wonder if evil ramps things up because this is such a season of good?”
“Sure sounds like a logical explanation,” he said. “So, what do we do so we ain’t going at it like a pair of old roosters?”
She smiled at him. “Well, I suppose we just need to recognize it for what it is,” she suggested. “We need to have even more patience and understanding. We need to slow down and remember how much we love each other.”
Stanley stared into her eyes for a few long moments. “I love you with all my heart, Rosie-gal,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “Ain’t nothing more important to me than you.”
Her eyes softly misting, she smiled at him. “And I love you, Stanley,” she replied. “You are the best man I’ve ever known.”
She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips.
He smiled up at her. “So, I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight,” he said. “It’s decided.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s not decided, you old coot,” she replied.
His chuckle caught her off guard. “Ain’t never loved being called an old coot afore,” he said. “Now it’s music to my ears.”
“Oh, dear,” she said with a sigh. “I’m afraid I reacted badly. But I want to protect you too, and I just don’t want you sleeping out here in the front room with the shadow thing.”
“Well, we got to figure this out so we’re both happy,” Stanley admitted.
He stood up and walked back to the hallway, his hands on his hips, and studied the back of his house. Then he looked over his shoulder. “Well, I could sleep in the guest room here,” he said. “That’s the closest one to the living room, but it ain’t in the living room. Then you can sleep in the bedroom, and neither one of us has to share a room with the shadow thing.”
Rosie joined him at the beginning of the hallway and slipped her hand inside of his. “That could work,” she said slowly. “As long as you agree not to do anything that would put you at risk.”
He lifted their clasped hands and kissed her hand. “I got too much too lose,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “I ain’t gonna risk nothing.”
Chapter Seventeen
The gray-green Land Rover cruised across the Wisconsin border and headed north on Highway 69. Ian glanced over at Mary and nodded towards the phone she held in her hand. “An
y luck?” he asked.
She nodded. “Dee had the original email from the owner of the asylum,” she said. “He’s not only forwarding it to me but also calling the owner and letting him know that he’s asked us to do a little follow-up work for the show.”
“Ahhh,” Ian said with a knowing smile. “The owner is after the publicity.”
“Yes,” Mary said. “He wants to turn the asylum into a paranormal destination.”
Ian shook his head. “Does that sound as crazy to you as it does to me?” he asked. “Paranormal destination. It’s not a freaking zoo. People could get hurt. People could die…”
Mary stared at the usually laid-back Scot in surprise. She’d never heard him so adamant about something. “Ian, are you okay?” she asked.
He stopped and took a deep breath. “Aye,” he said. “I’m sorry, Mary. I’ve no excuse for tearing off like that.”
“Maybe not an excuse,” she said. “But a reason. What’s going on?”
“Ah, well, as much as I’d like to tell you, I cannot,” he said. “It could risk a life, actually more than one life. But, this I can disclose. I’ll never take the paranormal, any part of it, for granted again. There’s powerful, and often dangerous, capabilities that we as humans have no inkling of.”
Mary shivered and nodded. “I’m beginning to understand that myself,” she said. “Beginning to understand that not all ghosts are merely lost souls who are looking for their way to the light.”
He nodded. “Are you frightened?” he asked softly.
She studied him for a moment. “Just between you and me?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Then yes,” she said. “Yes, I’m frightened. I felt something beyond paranormal when I spoke with that ghost, or whatever it was. Something more disturbing.”
“Did you ever watch the show Fantasy Island?” Ian asked.
Mary shook her head. “Wow, talk about a change of topics,” she said with a smile.
He laughed and nodded. “Well, yes and no,” he said. “I watched reruns of the show for a research project.”
