David glanced in the rearview mirror. “I guess so. He found out about Tessa’s seizure and probably wants to make sure that she’s alright.”
“Did you believe Tessa when she said she’d never been with Jeremy?”
“Yes. Do you?”
“Yes.” But that didn’t mean that he trusted the attorney. The way he acted around Tessa made it clear that he wanted to be more than friends. “I’m surprised that Grant allows Jeremy around Tessa. He seems to be a very possessive person, and Jeremy doesn’t do a good job of hiding his feelings.”
“Tessa’s trustworthy,” David said, “and Grant is greedy. Jeremy has made him a lot of money avoiding taxes.”
“And Jeremy? Do you trust him?”
David cut his eyes at Ethan. “Why? What do you think he did?”
“I’m not sure. In fact, I’m not sure about any of this. When I first got here, I thought that Faith died of natural causes, but now I don’t know.”
“You think someone hurt her?”
“There’s so much negative energy in the house,” Ethan said. “I think whatever happened that night stirred up Meredith’s spirit. It’s why she’s so angry. She’s feeding off of that violence.”
David’s hands tightened on the wheel. “If someone hurt my niece, I’ll show them violence,” he growled. “Can Meredith’s spirit tell you what happened?”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Ethan said. His mind sorted through the possibilities. There had been five people in the manor the night that Faith died: David, Tessa, Grant, Dr. Rosenbaum, and Jeremy. Ethan knew David wouldn’t commit such a heinous act, and he didn’t think that either Grant or his wife would have hurt their daughter, either. As for the other two – neither one seemed violent. So whom did that leave? Was there a mysterious Mr. X who had come into the manor that night? That didn’t seem right, either.
Ethan shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I’m wrong about this. Maybe the baby did die from natural causes. Dr. Rosenbaum seems to think so.”
“Unless she’s the one who did it,” David said.
Dr. Rosenbaum was a strange woman, and Ethan doubted her medical credentials. Still, did that make her a killer?
A few minutes later, David pulled up in front of the manor house. Thunder Point frowned down at them as they climbed out of the car. It was an angry, hostile place, and if not for Tessa, Ethan would have never have set foot inside it again.
“Are you going to start the séance now?” David asked when they were inside.
“Not yet. I want to search the house first,” Ethan said. “I think I’ll start with the attic.”
“I’m coming with you,” David said.
“I can find my own way around,” Ethan argued, but his heart lifted at the thought of David by his side.
“No way,” David said firmly. “Not after what happened at the bed and breakfast. You scared the life out of me.” He squeezed Ethan’s shoulder. “I’m not letting you alone for a minute.”
Ethan nodded but inside, he was glowing. This was the way it was supposed to be. The two of them together and working side by side. Meredith scared him, but she had done him a favor by reuniting him with the man he loved.
The attic was accessed by a narrow set of stairs that David pulled down from the third-floor ceiling. “I’ve only been up here once,” he said. “When I first came up here, Grant had me set mouse traps and check for bats.” He climbed the stairs ahead of Ethan and turned on a high-powered flashlight. “There’s a couple of lights up here, but it’s nearly impossible to find them in the dark.”
Ethan poked his head through the trapdoor and looked around before coming fully into the attic. It was cold and drafty here. The beams groaned as the wind thrashed the house. David’s flashlight played among large boxes and cast-off furniture, making the shadows jump.
“What are we looking for?” David asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ethan confessed. “I was hoping to find some supernatural activity, but the place seems dead.”
“No pun intended?” David teased.
Ethan smiled tensely. “Exactly.”
David yanked the pull chain for the light. Unfortunately, the attic looked even less inviting when it was lit. Layers of dust coated the boxes and furniture, and cobwebs hung from every beam. Ethan was sure he heard the scrabble of tiny mouse feet.
Ethan peeked under a sheet that had been draped over a rocking chair. “How old do you think this stuff is?”
“Good question,” David said. “To me, it looks like every generation of Muirs brought stuff up here.” He reached into a box and pulled out a stained copy of a National Geographic magazine. “1938,” he said. “This thing’s an antique.”
1938. That was right around the time that Meredith had drowned. If Ethan could find anything that had belonged to her, he stood a better chance of contacting her spirit. But where to begin looking? David was right. There were generations of junk up here.
“Check this out,” David called from across the attic. Ethan made his way around boxes and trunks to join him. David crouched by a dusty box that had nearly disintegrated with age. In his hand was a yellowed piece of drawing paper. “Someone in the family was an artist.”
The charcoal drawing of Thunder Point manor had been made with harsh strokes. The dismal trees in front of the house were bare limbed, as if it had been drawn in the dead of winter. “Whoever drew it must have been unhappy,” Ethan said.
“I’ll say.” David dug deeper into the box and brought out more drawings. All were drawn in the same, stark way that the first had been. The artist wasn’t just gloomy, he or she was angry as well.
Leafing through the pages, Ethan came upon the frowning face of a young man. He dropped it with a gasp. He knew that face! It was the man who had raped Meredith.
Once again, he saw the leering smile of the young man pinning Meredith to the bed. His weight crushed the breath from Meredith’s lungs. His arm was firm against her windpipe. “You asked for this,” the man snarled. “This is all your fault!” There was a sharp pain as Meredith was penetrated. She cried out, but no one answered the call.
“Ethan!” David said, alarmed. “Ethan! Are you okay?”
Ethan sucked air into his lungs. David stood at his side, his hand on Ethan’s arm. There was no evil man pinning him to the bed. It had been another flashback. “That man raped Meredith,” Ethan said weakly. “He’s the father of her baby.”
“The poor girl,” David said softly.
Ethan shook his head to clear the terrible images from it. Poor Meredith must have relived that awful moment a thousand times. How had she dealt with the shame and grief? How had she felt knowing that she was about to give birth to that monster’s child?
“I need to sit down,” Ethan mumbled and sank onto the floor.
“I think you need to get out of here,” David said. “Let’s go.”
“Not yet. There’s a bit of Meredith in here. I know it!” When he felt steadier, Ethan got to his feet and resumed the search for Meredith’s things. He peeked under a dozen sheets and into as many boxes. He came across discarded dresses and chipped china. An old sewing machine, and crates of moldering books. But nothing that spoke to him of the eighteen-year-old who had been locked in the house.
Nearly ready to give up, Ethan peeked under a final sheet. To his surprise, he uncovered a bassinet. It was grimy with age, but otherwise in good shape. It looked as if it had never been used. Folded neatly inside of it were a pile of embroidered blankets. The name Rose was stitched in pink on one of them.
“I found something!” he shouted to David. “Look at this.” He picked up a tiny nightgown that had been neatly folded along with the blankets. Alongside that were several pairs of hand-knitted baby booties and tiny sweaters.
“Someone went to a lot of trouble to make all of these things,” David said. He picked up a faded pink bonnet that had been neatly hand stitched. “It must have taken forever.”
Ethan didn’t feel M
eredith’s spirit hovering above the bassinet, but he did get a sense of her through the embroidered layette. In his mind’s eye, he saw Meredith alone in her room, bent over her needle as she stitched the rosebuds onto the fabric. No mother would go to so much trouble for a child she despised. No, Meredith had been welcoming her child into the world. Rose had been a bright spot in her otherwise bleak existence.
Ethan’s chest loosened on this revelation. What had happened to Meredith was a terrible tragedy, but she’d gained something positive from it: her child. He marveled at her strength. She’d been violated and locked away, but her spirit hadn’t been broken. Her mother’s love had shined through all of that.
Next to the layette was a tarnished, silver rattle that had been wrapped in tissue paper. It wasn’t a perfect item for channeling Meredith, but it might help connect the two of them. Ethan grabbed the rattle and let the sheet drop back over the bassinet. “Let’s go,” he told David.
They made their way back to the trapdoor. “Where do you want to go next?” David asked.
Ethan’s stomach knotted. “The nursery.”
As they came down the stairs from the attic, they were greeted with faint, piano music. “Dr. Rosenbaum’s at it again,” David said. “All she ever plays is that dramatic, classical stuff.” The melancholy music rippled like the dreary waters of Lake Superior. It did nothing to cheer the house up.
“This way,” David said and led Ethan down the hallway. As they passed by one of the doorways, a breathy sob came from behind them. A single rose petal floated down from the ceiling and landed like a drop of blood on the floor.
“David, stop,” Ethan said. A wordless voice whispered in his ear, and a cold breeze blew through the hallway. “Something’s going on.”
David’s forehead furrowed. “That’s Dr. Rosenbaum’s room.”
The door creaked open. Through the crack, Ethan saw the curtains in the room fluttering. “I have to go in here,” he said. Before David could stop him, he slipped inside.
The room was a little larger and cozier than his. Near the bay window at the front of the room sat a rocking chair. Though no one was in it, it dipped back and forth steadily. “Meredith?” Ethan asked. He laid a hand on the chair, stilling it. The bay window overlooked the driveway, and Ethan suddenly realized that this where Meredith had been standing when the photo of the old car had been taken – the one he’d noticed in the bed and breakfast.
“Ethan?” David asked softly, coming into the room. “What do you see?”
“I think this was Meredith’s room,” Ethan said excitedly. He ran his hand along the back of the rocking chair. It looked to be handcrafted from hardwood and was definitely an antique. “Maybe this was her rocking chair!” He sat down in it, hoping it would connect him to her spirit. Closing his eyes, he slowly rocked back and forth. “C’mon, Meredith,” he muttered. “Talk to me. I’m listening.”
The wind picked up, rustling papers that sat on a desk in the corner of the room. “She’s here, isn’t she?” David asked nervously.
Ethan opened his mouth to answer when the silver rattle he’d been holding heated up like a curling iron. With a yelp, he dropped it. The rattle rolled across the floor and under a large wardrobe.
“I’ll get it,” David said. He crouched down and felt under the wardrobe. His eyebrows went up. “What’s this?” He pulled out a cardboard shoe box. When he opened it up, Ethan smelled a very familiar scent.
“Smell that?” Ethan said. “That’s the same thing that the doctor was putting into Tessa’s tea!” He bolted out of the chair and took the box from David. Inside was a collection of sealed plastic bags. He read one of the labels. “Rowan berries?” He shook the bag of brown, wrinkled pellets.
“This one says ‘bloodwort’,” David said. His frown deepened. “What the hell is Rosenbaum giving to Tessa?”
Another bag was labeled morning glory seeds. There were others, too, but they sounded more appealing: chamomile, mint, nutmeg.
“This is insane,” David murmured. He handed the bag to Ethan who put it back into the box. “I’ve got to tell Grant.”
“Tell him what?” Ethan said. “We don’t know that any of this stuff is poisonous. It really could be an herbal tea. We need proof.” Grant was devoted to the doctor. It would take a lot of convincing to make him believe that she was hurting his wife.
“I’m looking this stuff up on the Internet,” David said, standing. “Rosenbaum wouldn’t hide that box unless it contained something bad.”
Ethan agreed. Information was their best chance at changing Grant’s mind.
“I wonder what else she’s been hiding,” Ethan said. Tucking the shoebox under his arm, he crossed the room and went over to the desk in the corner. On it was an open laptop plugged into a telephone land line. “Do I dare check it?” he asked.
“Normally, I’d say no,” David replied, “but the doctor has given me the creeps since the day we met. I’ve tried to pin her down on where she went to school and what hospital she’s affiliated with, but I never get a straight answer. She won’t even tell me what state her medical license was issued in.”
“So why does Grant trust her?” Ethan asked, frustrated. “Are they related or something?”
“Not that I know,” David said. “I get the feeling that she did something for him once. Though, he doesn’t talk about it.” He nudged Ethan and nodded at the computer. “I’d say go for it. Check her e-mails. I’ll act as a lookout.” He went into the hallway.
With great misgiving, Ethan sat down and accessed the doctor’s e-mail account. He soon discovered that the doctor was keeping up a steady correspondence with a man named Michael Rooks. Ethan paused. That name was so familiar. He knew he’d heard it before, but where? “Do you know a man by the name of Michael Rooks?” he called to David.
David poked his head into the room. “Never heard of him.”
“He’s sent the doctor over a dozen e-mails in the past month.” Ethan quickly scanned through them. Each one was addressed to ‘my dearest’ and ‘my love’, but the body of each message was all business. “It sounds like he’s her boyfriend, but all he wants to know about are Grant’s finances.”
David popped back into the room. “Rosenbaum has a boyfriend?” He shook his head. “I guess that proves that there’s someone for everyone. Wait!” He stood perfectly still. “I think the doctor’s stopped playing. I better go see what she’s up to. Keep checking her e-mail,” he said and left the room.
Ethan hurriedly went through the ‘sent’ folder to figure out what the doctor had been replying to Rooks. These messages, too, were affectionately addressed to the sender. She called Michael her ‘darling’ and her ‘everything’, words that seemed strange coming from the dour doctor. Rosenbaum had also attached pictures to her e-mails. Ethan opened one up to find a screen shot of Grant’s on-line bank statements and company financial records. If only there was a printer connected to the computer!
David hadn’t returned, and the piano was no longer playing. Ethan had to get out of there. However, he wanted to check one, last thing: the doctor’s browsing history. Unfortunately, the dial-up connection was painfully slow. He tapped his fingers nervously on the desk as he waited. “C’mon,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s go already!” Almost pixel by pixel, the homepage emerged.
A moment before the page fully loaded, a bell began to ring. Ethan jumped. He guiltily clicked out of the webpage and hurried out of the room. David was nowhere to be seen. He came down the stairs and met Tessa on the second-floor landing. “What’s going on?” he asked her.
“Dinner,” she said. “Grant insists that everyone eat together, so he rings the dinner bell every night at seven.” She descended the stairs carefully, clutching the bannister with one hand as she went.
“Are you alright?” Ethan asked.
“A little dizzy tonight, but I can’t stand being in my room anymore.” Tessa held out her free hand, and Ethan took it. She gripped it tightly, leaning ag
ainst him for support.
“I shouldn’t come to dinner,” he said. “Not after what happened before.”
“Nonsense,” Tessa said firmly. “I want you here, and I’m as much an owner of the house as Grant is.” She started down the stairs, but Ethan hung back. Tessa tugged gently on his arm. “Come with me.”
“But Grant had me brought in for questioning!” Once again, Ethan’s temper flared. He couldn’t sit across from the man who had had him dragged into the police station.
Tessa’s face clouded. “That wasn’t Grant,” she said. “Yes, he let them into the house, but he didn’t call them on you.”
“So who did?” Ethan demanded.
“That’s what I want to know.”
“Thank you for sending Jeremy,” Ethan said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”
She patted his arm. “Of course, I would do that for you. It’s the least I could do.” Once again, she tugged on his arm. This time, Ethan obliged her. Maybe dinner was the perfect time to hash this all out. Although, he’d feel more confident if David was there, too. Where was he?
As they continued down the stairs, Ethan said, “Don’t drink any more of that tea the doctor is giving you. I think there’s something wrong with it.”
Tessa stopped her descent to look him in the face. “I haven’t drunk it in days. Every time the doctor brings it to me, I dump it down the sink.” She leaned against Ethan to whisper in his ear, “Don’t tell Grant. He’s as insistent as the doctor is that I drink it. But I’m starting to feel better. I’m not sick to my stomach like I was. I’m not as tired, either. In fact, I’m nerved up.” She turned her worried eyes to Ethan. “I think that the tea was actually calming me down.”
Maybe Ethan was wrong. Maybe the tea really was helping Tessa. He wanted to ask her more about it, but Grant appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, seeing Ethan.
“I invited him to say,” Tessa said firmly. “He had no business being arrested.” Tessa left Ethan’s side and went to her husband. She kissed his cheek. “I want him here.”
Restless Spirits Page 15
