Restless Spirits

by Michelle Scott

  “Thanks.” His chest loosened a little. Tessa had been right; it was good to have an ally.

  “Tessa!”

  The shout from behind them made them both turn. Hurrying up the spit of land was a handsome man with gold-framed glasses and a long, black overcoat. Tessa rose to greet him. “Jeremy!” When he was close enough, she took his hand, gave it a brief squeeze, and let it go. “Jeremy, this is Ethan Rhoades. Ethan, Jeremy. My husband’s attorney.”

  Ethan rose and held out his hand. Jeremy offered a firm handshake while he looked Ethan over with a skeptical frown.

  Tessa tucked her hair behind her ears to keep it from blowing into her face. “He was asking me questions about the voices.”

  Jeremy put himself between Tessa and Ethan. “He wasn’t upsetting you, was he?” His voice was nearly a growl. “I heard that you had a restless night last night. You were wandering outside in your nightgown?”

  “He wasn’t upsetting me,” Tessa said firmly. “He was helping.”

  Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “The best way to help her is to not let her dwell on the voices.”

  “Jeremy doesn’t believe me, either,” Tessa said.

  No kidding. He looked like a man who was more at home with bankruptcy law and tax codes than spirits and divination. With his meticulously polished shoes, manicured fingernails, and clipped hair, Jeremy struck Ethan as a man with very little imagination. Certainly not enough to believe that ghosts were real.

  “In any case, I’m glad that I found you,” Jeremy said to Ethan. “I’ve been looking all over the house for you.”

  Ethan couldn’t hide his surprise. “Why?”

  Jeremy gave Ethan another appraising look. “You’re not averse to signing a waiver, are you?”

  “A waiver? Why would I need to sign something like that?”

  “It’s a formality. In the event that you’re injured while on the property, Grand doesn’t want you holding him responsible.”

  The chandelier. The house was a deathtrap, and Grant didn’t want Ethan suing him over it. Ethan might have refused – hell, he might have simply walked away from the entire thing – if not for Tessa’s sake. And David’s. “I’ll sign.”

  “On the other hand, if you’re planning on leaving, it won’t be necessary,” Jeremy said.

  Ethan thrust out his chest. “I won’t be leaving the estate until Tessa asks me to.”

  Tessa smiled again. “And I won’t ask you to. I want this matter laid to rest.” She put her fingers to her head and closed her eyes. “I want the voices stopped.”

  “They will,” Jeremy assured her. “Just keep taking your medication.”

  “I don’t need medication,” she shot back. “I need the house rid of ghosts.”

  Once more, it began to storm. Rain speckled the surface of the lake. With warm, yellow light showing through its windows, the manor house almost looked cheerful. It was certainly a better place to ride out the squall than under the lighthouse.

  Ethan hurried ahead of the others. He strode off the rocky point and back towards the safety of the house. Instead of returning to the doors by the patio, however, Ethan veered south, towards the more sheltered side of the house. The rain fell harder, soaking him.

  As he came around the back of the house, something flickered in his periphery. A bright speck momentarily eclipsed his vision. At first, he thought it was lightning, but the brilliance flashed again. Turning, he found a sodden garden full of stone benches and statuary. But no, he suddenly realized. It wasn’t a garden; it was a small cemetery. The statues were tombstones and grave markers.

  But what had captured his attention? Heedless of the rain, Ethan passed through the wrought-iron gate that led into the graveyard. Immediately, he was struck with a feeling of peacefulness. Whatever spirits had been lain to rest in this place were happy and calm. As he made his way to the very back of the cemetery, he felt nothing but serenity.

  The granite markers had been chiseled with words like ‘loving mother’ and ‘dearest wife’. They dated back to the mid 1800’s with newer headstones at the east end of the plot and older ones at the west. Sensing no disturbances in the newer section, Ethan moved on to the older. It was raining steadily now, and he was thoroughly soaked. His hands were so cold that his fingers were stiff and numb. His feet squished in his shoes. Still, something had caught his attention, and he wasn’t leaving until he figured out what it was.

  When he reached the back of the cemetery, Ethan realized that there were two more graves beyond the wrought-iron fence. Why had these two markers been placed outside of the perimeter? Wanting a closer look, Ethan left the main graveyard through the back gate and crouched by the two graves. Neither gravestone had a name on it, but they were marked with dates. The larger one said 1914 – 1932 while the other read simply May 4, 1932. Had the child lived and died in a single day?

  Hoping to find more clues, Ethan scooped away dead leaves that had accumulated by the headstones. Something sharp pricked his finger. He jerked back and stuck his thumb in his mouth, tasting blood. There, by the smaller gravestone, was a long-stemmed rose, bright red against the dull brown of the wet leaves.

  Suddenly, the air was redolent with the smell of roses. The sweet scent filled his nose as if an entire garden was in bloom. The aroma made him heady. All that fragrance couldn’t come from a single flower.

  “Ethan!”

  Looking over his shoulder, Ethan saw David walking towards him. “Why am I always finding you out in the rain?” David joked. “How about coming inside my cottage for a while. I just made some coffee.”

  Ethan placed the rose reverently back on the grave. He stood and hurried towards David, ducking his head against the rain. As they walked off, Ethan took a final look at the two graves behind him.

  The red rose was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  A brick path led to David’s cottage in the woods. With its peaked, slate roof and stone exterior, the cottage could have appeared from a fairy tale. Inside, kitchen, bedroom, and living area shared the same space. The place was cozy, but in typical David style, it was slightly messy. A basket of unfolded laundry sat next to the bed. Sketch books and pastels were spread across the table. Dishes sat in a drainer next to the sink.

  “I guess I should have cleaned up first,” David said. He hurriedly stacked the books into a neat pile and picked up a pair of jeans that had been casually laid across the back of a kitchen chair.

  “Reminds me of the frat house,” Ethan said.

  “I was never that bad,” David argued.

  “Remember the waist-high pile of laundry in the corner of the bedroom?” Ethan teased. “And the way you used to buy new clothes so that you wouldn’t have to wash the old ones?”

  “I remember a roommate who was a neat freak,” David returned. “The guy who kept seven different kinds of cleansers in the bathroom.”

  “One for every day of the week,” Ethan said. They both laughed.

  “Speaking of clothes – you’re soaking wet.” David handed Ethan a towel for his hair. “I have a pair of sweats you can borrow.”

  Ethan gratefully accepted. He peeled off his T-shirt and jeans without embarrassment, feeling David’s eyes hook on him before quickly turning away. The clothes smelled of David. His laundry detergent, his fabric softener, and – more subtly – his musk, a scent that had always driven Ethan mad with passion. Even now, he felt a stirring beneath the waistband of his boxers. Knowing that David was sneaking looks at him made the stirring become something stronger.

  David poured two mugs of coffee. “Extra cream, but no sugar, right?”

  Ethan nodded, pleased that David had remembered.

  David brought the mugs over to the table and sat down. “Did you find anything interesting at the cemetery?”

  “There were two markers that were on the outside of the fence. It was almost as if they were being shunned. They didn’t even have names on them. Only dates. One belonged to an infant who lived a day.”
/>   David frowned. “That’s tragic. Do you think the other marker belonged to the mother?”

  Ethan hadn’t considered it, but it made sense. “The other marker was for an eighteen-year-old, so that’s a possibility. But why bury them away from the rest of the family?” He sipped the coffee, thinking. “Unless the child was born out of wedlock. That might get them ostracized.”

  “An insult like that could make for an angry ghost,” David mused. “I know that I wouldn’t take it well.” He wrapped his hands tightly around his mug. “Or, I should say, I didn’t take it well.”

  “You’re still not talking to your parents?”

  “Now that I’m dating Jessica, they’re better. They still tense up when I talk about my friends from the fraternity, though. It’s like they think I screwed every guy in Omega Nu. They call that time my ‘days of misdirection’.”

  No wonder Tessa was so important to him. She was the only family member who accepted him as he was. Ethan pressed David’s hand with his own, offering comfort. “They shouldn’t say that.”

  David’s face was set like stone. “No, they were right. I was misdirected. That part of my life was a mistake.”

  Ethan pulled his hand away. Hearing David say that was a kick to the groin. He was erasing their whole history with a single sentence. The coffee Ethan had swallowed ate like acid in his stomach. “You don’t mean that, do you?” he asked tightly.

  Sensing Ethan’s distress, David quickly shook his head. “I don’t regret what you and I had. It was very special to me.”

  Ethan didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Then he thought of what Tessa had said. He loves you. His chest loosened a bit. He was willing to give David time to find his way back to him, but it would have been easier if he knew when that was going to happen. And if that was going to happen.

  “I have a strained relationship with my parents, too,” Ethan confessed. “When I told them about the spirits that I saw, and the voices that I heard, they didn’t believe me. In fact, they didn’t even try to understand. It was an embarrassment to them.”

  “I remember you telling me that,” David said. “That must have been terrible.”

  “They sent me to psychiatrists who forced pills down my throat,” Ethan continued bitterly. “I spent most of my childhood drugged which meant I spent my school days with the special students because I was too out of it to keep up with my peers.” The old anger boiled inside of him, burning beneath his breastbone. “If my parents had reached out to me just once, or stopped their lives to try and comprehend mine, I could have made them believe. Instead, I grew up ashamed of who I was, and what I could do.”

  David was nodding in agreement. “It’s a kind of shunning. We’ve both been pushed outside of the family circle.”

  It hurt. Ethan’s parents had been distant his entire life, but he still longed for them to be a real family. He wanted to be included, even after everything his parents had put him through. But that hadn’t happened yet. Instead, he was filled with an aching loneliness that beat like a second pulse. Always steady, never going away.

  David picked up a sketchpad and flipped it open. “I think it’s why I draw what I draw.” With an embarrassed shrug, he handed the book to Ethan.

  Inside was a fanciful drawing of a rabbit and a porcupine sitting down to tea. A fox leered at them through a curtained window. Ethan laughed, delighted. “This is brilliant!”

  The sparkle had returned to David’s eyes. “I’ve thought about becoming a children’s book illustrator. I like drawing happy families and close friends. It’s a nice, safe world where everyone loves each other.”

  Ethan flipped to the next page. The porcupine held a camera, and the rabbit was posing for the picture. The fox held an empty sack and sported a hungry smile. “What happens to the fox in the story?” Ethan asked.

  “He’s trapped by a hunter who wants his tail, and the rabbit and the porcupine rescue him. Then they all become friends.”

  “And live happily ever after?”

  “Of course,” David said with a smile. “It can’t end any other way.”

  Ethan continued to turn pages. “You’re really good! There’s so much detail in these drawings. It must take you forever.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I have a lot of time on my hands. Until Grant decides what he wants to do with the manor, I’m basically free to do as I’d like. Once he finally decides to open his pockets, I’ll be overseeing the construction.”

  “So the house has been empty for a while now.”

  “No one’s had the money to invest in it,” David said. “Until Grant sold that patent and became rich, the Muir family was in decline. All the family money was gone.”

  “How long have you lived here?” Ethan asked.

  David squinted, thinking. “I came in late February. A week after Faith died.”

  “So, you weren’t here that night?” When David shook his head, Ethan said, “Tessa says she can’t remember anything that happened. The incident of finding Faith is a black hole in her memory.”

  “I think the horror of finding her daughter dead in her crib was too traumatic for her to process. If you want to know details, you’ll have to see Grant.”

  Since Grant didn’t want him investigating the paranormal, Ethan doubted that he would be forthcoming with any details. “Was there anyone else here that night? Annie said she was at her own house.”

  “That was the night of the big snow storm, wasn’t it? Grant and Tessa don’t get many visitors, but if anyone had been visiting them, they would have slept over. From what I understand, no one was getting in or out that night.” David frowned. “You don’t think that anyone hurt that child, do you? Her death was ruled accidental.”

  “If her spirit is uneasy, then that would be one possibility.” Although, who would have hurt her? Certainly not Tessa or Grant. “But there are other reasons as well. She might be too scared to cross over to the other side. Or she might not realize she’s dead.”

  “Maybe she just wants to be near her mother,” David suggested.

  “That’s a possibility as well.”

  They lapsed into silence as they drank their coffee. The rain tapped on the slate roof, making the warm cottage seem even cozier. There was no awkwardness, just a companionable silence. Ethan wished that the moment would last forever.

  Finally, David rose and poured them each more coffee. “I just remembered that I have something you need to try with that coffee. It’s a local specialty.”

  He kept his back turned towards Ethan as he took something from the small refrigerator and placed part of it on a plate. “Close your eyes.” He smiled mischievously.

  “Will I regret it?” Ethan asked.

  “No. I promise.”

  With some misgiving, Ethan did as he was asked. David set the plate in front of him and put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Okay, open your mouth.”

  Putting himself in David’s control was an intimate gesture. One that Ethan gladly welcomed. All his senses were heightened. David’s hand seemed to burn through the thin fabric of his sweatshirt, and his leg pressed against Ethan’s thigh. Pleasant tension coiled in Ethan’s loins. He opened his mouth, ready to receive whatever David put there.

  A fork glided gently between his lips. Pie. A flakey crust, with a soft, sweet filling that he couldn’t quite identify. Chewing slowly, Ethan savored the richness of the bite. “It’s delicious.” He opened his eyes to find David smiling down at him.

  “Thimbleberry pie.”

  “Thimbleberry?”

  “It’s a bit like a raspberry. It grows all over up here. It’s great for jam. And pie.” David handed him the fork and sat back down to enjoy his own slice. “It is quiet and lonely up here, but there are things that make it worthwhile. Nature is one of them.”

  “And pie is the other?” Ethan teased.

  David grinned. “Wouldn’t you move to a spooky, old haunted house for a taste of excellent pie?”

  “Definit
ely,” Ethan said.

  David peered out the window. “The rain’s let up. Would you like that tour of the house now?”

  Ethan was reluctant to leave the comfortable warmth of the small cottage. The nearby bed beckoned to him. If this were the old days, he and David would be entangled on that bed. They would spend the entire afternoon, even the night, entwined together. But David would never go for that now. He’d have to settle for a tour of the manor.

  Ethan managed a smile. “That would be great.”

  David grabbed a large flashlight that sat on a shelf by the door. “Be prepared to get dirty. There must be a foot of dust in some of those places. And the basement is filthy. We might even need a pair of hardhats,” he joked. “There’s so much old furniture piled up in the basement, I’m worried one of the stacks will fall over and crush anyone who’s standing underneath.”

  “Tessa told me that Grant wanted the two of them to move to Grand Rapids,” Ethan said, “but she doesn’t want to leave. She said her daughter still needs her.”

  David shrugged on a raincoat. “That’s the one thing that Grant and I agree on. We both think that Tessa would do better somewhere else. This place will get into your head if you let it. My sister needs out, but she’s stubborn and insists on staying.”

  Ethan followed David out of the cottage and into the dreary afternoon. David pointed to the uppermost row of windows in the manor. “We can start with the attic and work our way down. Hopefully, we’ll find your ghost.” Again, there was a gleam of adventure in his eyes. Ethan had forgotten how much he loved that sparkle. It was contagious, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling whenever he saw it.

  As they walked up to the house, a black Mustang pulled into the circular drive. David rushed forward. A slim blond-haired woman got out of the car, and David picked her up around the waist and spun her in a circle.

  Ethan’s heart squeezed itself into a hard ball. That had to be David’s girlfriend, Jessica. When David finally put her down, she laughed and playfully punched him in the arm. Ethan seethed as David kissed her cheek. But a second look made him wonder if everything between them was really okay. Hadn’t that simple kiss seemed strained? And wasn’t there tension in David’s forehead? Ethan certainly hoped so.