Unlike some kids, I was glad to see my dad leave. He was the world’s biggest jerk, and that was never going to change. And when Mom decided to begin using her maiden name again, I had demanded to be allowed to do the same. It took some legal wrangling, but Joe Rogers didn’t give a damn. Didn’t bother him at all. So now, Gran, Mom and I were the three Kowalskis. We were a tight little family, and I liked it that way.
I walked to one of the windows, flipped the camera back on and filmed the driveway from this amazing vantage point. Panning the camera to the right, I got a good shot of the overgrown lot the house stood on. It looked like a jungle down there, with way too many wild sticker vines to even consider taking a tour of the limited grounds. Still no sign of Carrie Jo, unless she parked up close to the house; the roof of the balcony below me blocked my view of that part of the driveway.
I stood on tiptoe, but it didn’t do a bit of good. I wasn’t that tall to begin with. I glanced at my watch. Yeah, I’d better get downstairs. Carrie Jo wouldn’t be much longer. I walked back to the door, promising myself that I’d come back up on my lunch break to plunder the chests. The things people hid away were always revealing and informative about who they were. And if any of these boxes and things belonged to the Fergusons, Carrie Jo would be tickled pink. I must have stirred up the thick layer of dust that coated the room because I sneezed without any warning at all. I waited for the echo and frowned when it didn’t come. Now that’s odd. Must be the weird acoustics in here.
I stepped out into the hall and felt compelled to close the door behind me. In fact, I couldn’t close it fast enough. I heard the voice again, and it wasn’t my voice. I hadn’t said a word. The voice belonged to someone much younger.
And probably much deader.
My hand froze on the doorknob as I tried to release it. Something didn’t want to let me go.
Rachel Kowalski…recording…
I tugged with all my might, and with a desperate, muffled scream, the invisible force let go of my hand and I broke free. I fell backwards onto the dirty floor. I didn’t waste time trying to figure out if anything was broken. I scrambled to my feet and scurried down the stairs like my pants were on fire. I heard a voice calling me from the bottom floor. It was a voice I knew. A living voice.
“Rachel? You up there?”
Oh God, thank you, God!
“Yes! I’m coming!” I said as I barreled down the last flight of stairs. Carrie Jo stood in the foyer looking at me questioningly.
“You okay?” She laughed nervously, like she was half ready to run too. I remembered a t-shirt I owned: Paranormal Investigator: If You See Me Running, Run Faster. I’d probably wear it tomorrow. My first instinct was to blurt it all out, tell her that something mocked me in the attic, that it grabbed my hand and scared the hell out of me. But one look at her face told me this wasn’t the day for that. Carrie Jo would have made a terrible poker player.
“Um, yeah. Just wanted to be here when you got here. Did some filming in the attic, but I haven’t finished the rest of the house yet. Want to walk with me?”
“Sure.” She smiled and set her purse and briefcase down on the only table available. “Let’s do this. It’s day one, and we’ve got a long way to go.”
“Hey, that would be great to put on video. What do you say? Should we do this video diary up right?” Yes, please give me something normal to do.
She smiled nervously and fiddled with her hair. “I don’t know, Rachel. I look like hell today. Baby AJ doesn’t know how to sleep for longer than a few hours.”
“Nonsense, you are gorgeous, CJ. If you want to do it tomorrow, I understand, but there’s nothing like the first day. It’s kind of magical, isn’t it?” I put on my best smile. It was obvious my boss needed some cheering.
“No, you’re right. It’s a great idea. We should do it now, but give me two minutes to put my lipstick on. I could at least do that. If I can remember where there’s a bathroom.”
“Oh, yeah. That reminds me. No power, no water. I think we’ll be spending today waiting on service trucks.”
“Great. I’ll just use this.” She dug in her purse and found her lipstick and walked to the nearest window.
I fiddled with my camera to cue it up for Carrie Jo’s bit. I played back the video a few seconds to make sure I didn’t record over anything important.
Rachel Kowalski…recording.
“Oh my God!” I said aloud, not thinking that CJ could hear me.
“What is it? Lose your footage?” she called over her shoulder.
“No, not exactly.” I turned the volume down and played it again.
Rachel Kowalski…recording.
I couldn’t believe it. I had managed to record a ghost’s voice—or something. I’d have to listen to it again later, when my skin wasn’t trying to crawl off my body.
So it was true, then! I had always heard these old houses were often home to spirits but had never thought much about it. My mother and aunts were going to get a kick out of this. Unlike some families, mine believed in and embraced the supernatural world. To hear my grandmother tell it, all Kowalskis were spiritual people, but some were late bloomers. Like me. I’d never seen or heard anything growing up. Now I was hearing things. Freaky to think that I would be excited about it.
“Okay, how do I look?”
She’d taken her hair down and tidied it with her fingers. She wore perfectly applied lipstick now and even used a dab of it to brighten her cheeks. I wished I was half as pretty as she was. This wasn’t the first time I’d had a twinge of jealousy working with CJ.
“Beautiful, of course. You know you could have been a model.”
She laughed aloud at that. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m not kidding! Come on, boss lady. We’ll start outside the front door. Why don’t you invite the viewer to follow you inside? Don’t tell them about your plans for the house this go-around. Just point out important features, maybe some things that are unique about Idlewood. And of course throw in any history that you can remember.”
“Geesh, Spielberg. Anything else?” Her mood had lightened since she’d arrived. I felt good about that. I suspected she and Ashland were fighting again. It was the new couple curse. You either broke it or it broke you. (Another Gran-ism.) My sincere hope was that they broke it in a hurry. They were a dynamite team and had managed to survive so much already.
“Nope. Just remember to smile big. Ready?”
She hugged me. “Thank you for being you. I am so grateful to have you on my team.”
For the next twenty minutes, I filmed Carrie Jo pointing excitedly at crown molding, special ceiling medallions and built-in wooden shelves. She did a great job of treating the camera like it was a good friend. By the time we finished the bottom floor, she was ready to head upstairs.
“Hold that thought, though; I have to call the water and electric folks to see what’s up.”
“Okay, no problem, CJ. That will give me a chance to review this real quick. In case we need to retake anything.”
I rolled the camera back the full thirty minutes and saw Carrie Jo’s smiling face appear in the open front doorway. “Hi! I’m Carrie Jo Jardine, and I’d like to welcome you to Idlewood, a once-beautiful old mansion in downtown Mobile, Alabama. Let’s go inside and see what it looks like now.” I smiled back at Carrie Jo. She absolutely forgot to use her married name. Not a problem, really; I could edit that out. I chuckled as I replayed it.
Then I heard the voice again.
Rachel Kowalski…recording.
The voice came in and out, as if it were speaking over a distorted radio channel or something, but it was clearly playing through my camera. My hair stood up again. I couldn’t believe this! Something or someone wanted my attention.
I wandered to the opposite side of the room and whispered to whoever might be listening. Maybe I could reason with it. “I hear you, but please don’t scare my friend. She can help you. I’ll try to help you too, but no more scary stuff, okay?” I
stared up the stairs and heard the sound of little feet running away, back to the attic. I even heard the door slam.
“What was that?” Carrie Jo asked, her green eyes wide with fear.
“The attic windows are open, and I must have left the door open when I came back down,” I lied horribly. That’s so bad for my karma.
“Oh, okay. Sorry to be so jumpy today. I’m just missing baby AJ. And did I tell you how tired I am?” She laughed nervously. “Ready to head upstairs now?”
“Yes, but just in case, I want to change out my cards. Just a second.” It was a brand new video card, so there shouldn’t be a trace of a voice on there. No one’s voice should be on this one. I popped it in and put the old one in my jeans pocket. “Now I’m ready. These stairs are steady. No wonky or saggy steps. Let’s film the walk-up.”
“Great! Let’s roll some footage. I am so excited about this now. Can’t believe we didn’t do this before.”
“Just one thing,” I advised with another smile.
“Yeah?” she said as she climbed to the landing and gave me a dopey pose.
“In the last video you called yourself Carrie Jo Jardine.”
“No, I didn’t. Did I?”
“Yes, but I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it, and Ashland wasn’t here to hear it. I’ll edit that bit out later.” I have quite a bit of editing to do, actually, and not because of Carrie Jo.
“Let’s try it again, then. Let me practice…Hi! I’m Carrie Jo Stuart. Yes, I’m Carrie Jo Stuart.” Each time she said it, she sounded more chipper.
I grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. “Let’s do this, then. Let’s start with that, give your name again and tell the viewers where we are and what they’ll see. Ready? I’ll count you down from three.”
“Cool! Okay, I’m ready.”
“Three, two, one…”
“Hi, I’m Carrie Jo Stuart, and I’m here to show you the many wonderful features inside this lovely old home called Idlewood. We are currently in downtown Mobile, Alabama, right off busy Carlen Street. That’s between Dauphin and Government Streets, important streets both then and now. And here in the home of Desmond and Cindy Taylor, we are finding all sorts of architectural treasures. My team and I are on the lookout for anything we can repurpose or refurbish in restoring the old home. Ready to take a look with me?”
“Cut!” I said, waving my hand. “That was perfect, and you even got your name right.”
“Ha ha!” she snorted back at me. “I believe you, but before we go any further, I want to see it. If I look like hell, I don’t need to be on film. I know I said I wanted a video document for this project, but that was before I had been without sleep for six months.”
“No problem, boss lady. Let me rewind the video here, and you can take a look for yourself. But I’m telling you, you are worried for nothing.” I smiled reassuringly. I thought I heard a service truck pull up, but I couldn’t be sure. I flipped the camera to play, and Carrie Jo stood beside me to watch her video roll on the flip-out screen.
“Hi, I’m Carrie Jo Stuart, and I’m here to show you the many wonderful features inside this lovely old home called Idlewood. We are currently…Rachel Kowalski…recording…Rachel Kowalski…recording….” And on and on it went—the invisible child’s voice spoke the words faster and faster until I set the camera down on the table and hit the power button.
Carrie Jo stared at the camera and then at me. Her mouth was wide open, and her eyes were even wider. Now I had to ask her the question. “Did you hear it too?”
“Rachel Kowalski…recording? Yes I heard that—loud and clear. Who was that, Rachel? One of your little cousins?” The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. “Did you record over something else? What’s going on? Tell me the truth—I have to know!”
“I don’t think I should. I mean, Ashland asked me not to be all spooky with you, but I swear I’m not making this up. I mean, you heard it yourself! Before you arrived, I went up to the attic to do some recon, and I did some video documentation myself. You know, to get the feel of the place.” I took a deep breath. “And I heard a voice. It mocked me, like an echo. I think it was a child’s voice. That’s what you heard. Somehow I managed to record it. But that’s not the weird part.”
She swallowed visibly. “It’s not?”
“No. What’s weird is the recording is from another card. This new recording, the one with your second take, is on a new card. An entirely brand new card. I hadn’t even opened this card until after I left the attic. There’s no way that the voice recorded onto a card that wasn’t in the camera. I can’t explain it. I’m sorry, Carrie Jo. I know I sound—well…”
“No apologies necessary, but let’s try to keep it together. Okay? Maybe the camera has some built-in storage. Some of them do. It’s possible that you think you recorded on the card but you actually recorded on the camera’s storage drive. That is a possibility, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Let’s go with that for now. And Ashland had no right to ask you to do that. I’m not afraid of the supernatural, Rachel. He is. You can always talk to me, but until we know for sure what’s going on, let’s keep it between us. And for goodness’ sake, don’t mention it to the client. Since the goal here is to make this a place he can rent for weddings, balls and the like, I’m sure he wouldn’t like this too much. He’s not the kind of guy to condone any talk about ghosts and such.”
“You’re probably right.” I took the card out of the camera. “Now what do I do with these creepy things?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, I can ask Henri to take a listen. He’s hip with the supernatural media stuff. I dream about it, Ashland sees it, but Henri is real good at cataloging it.”
“What’s Detra Ann’s superpower, then?” I smiled at Carrie Jo, hoping she’d ask me about mine.
“She’s our lie detector. She knows when someone is lying. It’s pretty cool to watch her.”
“That just leaves me. I guess I’m the only one in our group who doesn’t have a superpower.” It felt good to be considered a part of the gang.
She patted my shoulder and said, “That’s not true at all. You do too have a superpower. You are a sensitive, Rachel. You can sense things, and apparently record them. In my book, that’s way better because you’ve got some real proof, if that’s what this is.”
As she spoke, I believed her. No lie detector needed. CJ didn’t have a lying bone in her body. Then I got the distinct feeling that someone was watching us, and I quickly saw that I was right. A burly young man was peering in the window next to the front door of Idlewood.
“Hang on, I’ve got this.” I handed her the camera so she could look at it. I hoped against hope that I hadn’t damaged it in any way. I wasn’t careful enough with my own equipment. Imagine throwing it down like that. I could have damaged the evidence.
I opened the door and smiled. “May I help you?”
“Are you Carrie Jo Stuart?”
“No, but I’m her assistant. I’m Rachel. Who might you be?”
“Oh, sorry.” He extended his hand, and I shook it like I was meeting a church date, although he didn’t give me the church date vibe. “My name is Angus. I’m an electrician, and my specialty is bringing these grand old homes up to date. Quite nice to see that someone is willing to restore Idlewood. Very exciting.”
“You’re Scottish, Angus?”
“What gave it away? My accent, my beard or my name?”
To my own surprise I said, “I wish I could say it was your kilt, but since you aren’t wearing one, I’ll have to say your beard. No, wait. The name. The name and the accent.” He laughed heartily at that. I liked this red-haired giant of a man already. He was probably my age, maybe a year or two older. While he ran his fingers through his wavy red hair, I took a peek at his hands. Nope. No ring.
Geesh, it’s not like me to flirt quite so obviously, but hey, this is fun. It had been a long time since anyone had turned my head, but I had to stay professional. “I�
�m just babbling. Sorry. Follow me, please, Angus. Meet the boss lady. Carrie Jo, this is Angus. He’s the electrician here to work his magic.”
“Wonderful! What’s the problem, Angus?”
He sputtered at first but then began to explain how certain breakers had to be replaced, that the wiring was old and some of the lines were beyond burnt. He would like to begin immediately and felt sure he could get it straightened out today. “Can’t leave such lovely Southern ladies to freeze to death. It’s going to get chilly this afternoon.”
“That settles it, then. We can finish our documentation later. We need that electricity to get our computers set up. This is a big day for us, Angus,” I spoke up. Carrie Jo was looking more tired by the minute.
“Good. Excuse me a minute. I’ll go get my tools.”
I watched him walk out of the house and smiled at Carrie Jo. “Hubba, hubba, CJ. What do you think?”
“Oh, he’s not my type. My type is a blue-eyed, blond football player with shoulders that sway when he walks…and I’ve been such a jerk to him today.” She plopped down in the chair and scanned through her phone. I had an idea.
“Go home, boss lady. Leave your son at day care and go home. Go take a nap, go get your hair done. Do something just for you, Carrie Jo. You deserve it.”
At that, she smiled weakly. “Seriously? I can’t do that. I have to work.”
“What work? We can’t do anything right now. We have no electricity. And if Angus is going to do all he plans to do, it might be hours or days before it’s on.” I didn’t really have any idea how long it would take, but it was true that we probably wouldn’t do anything else today. Thankfully Angus wasn’t here to contradict me.
The Ghosts of Idlewood Page 3
