Whispers from the Past

by Gail Chianese

  Whispers from the Past

  Gail Chianese

  Contents

  Title

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Title

  Whispers from the Past

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  A Camden Point Novella

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  Gail Chianese

  Whispers from the Past

  Copyright © 2018, 2021 by Gail Chianese

  Revised and reissued January 2021 by Gail Chianese

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This ebook/book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright ACT of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. For permission or information on foreign, audio, or other rights, contact the author, gailchianese@gmail.com

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  Cover Design: The Final Wrap

  Author Photo: Julia Gerace

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  Printed in the United States of America

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  Dear Readers,

  This story may feel a little familiar, as it was previously published under the title of Whispers from the Sand. It’s been revised, relocated and renamed. ~ Gail

  Created with Vellum

  This one is for my baby girl, Devin.

  Thanks for the idea.

  Love you…

  Chapter 1

  She doesn’t believe.

  “Don’t you worry, love. I’ve got a plan.”

  Shay O’Malley stepped out of the kitchen and looked around the living room. That was strange. She’d swear she’d heard a second voice, a male voice.

  “Did you say something, Grammy?”

  “Talking with O’Malley, dear. He’s quite proud of you. Your first week back in Camden Point and you’ve already landed a job.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Come sit and tell me about your first day.”

  “Hang on.” Shay grabbed the two glasses of homemade peach tea from the counter and walked back into the living room. She looked to the seat next to her grandmother and then opted for the chair instead, hoping she’d chosen wisely. Not that she believed they had company, especially that of her dearly departed grandfather who had been gone for twenty-five years.

  “Tell Grandad thanks.”

  “He can hear you just fine.”

  “Well, I can’t hear him.” Except for that once. Maybe. Probably just a dream.

  “You could if you tried.” Her grandmother sipped from her tea, head cocked and attention elsewhere for a few moments. “Hmmph. Fine, I’ll drop the subject for now, but mark my words: gifts naturally given don’t like to be ignored forever.”

  Shay reached out a hand and squeezed her grandmother’s. “Gram, I’d love nothing more than to be able to talk to Grandad daily like you do. Now, let’s talk about how much I love this place and my new job and how I’m so thankful you talked me into moving back.”

  Living here she could keep an eye on Grammy while still allowing the too independent, nearly eighty-year-old woman to enjoy life. It gave her parents the freedom and peace of mind to focus on their upcoming retirements and to follow their dream of traveling around the country in their RV.

  “Tell me about your new job. What age are the kids? Did you make any new friends?” Her gram’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Meet any hot, single dads?”

  “Grammy! I’m shocked at you. What would O’Malley say?” Shay laughed.

  Her grandmother swatted at her knees and cackled with laughter. “O’Malley has nothing to worry about and he knows it. I’m thinking of you, my dear. You’re too young to be spending all your time with an old lady.”

  “I’ve been hired as the assistant director for the Osprey Inn Kids Camp, which means some administrative work. But mostly, I’ll be teaching the three to five-year olds, which is such a fun age. Any men I meet will most likely be married, Grammy. Besides, I like the company I keep.”

  “You need friends your own age, to get out and have fun, not sit around here babysitting me.”

  Knowing where the conversation was headed, Shay looked out the window instead and stared at the unmarked black panel van and matching SUV that had pulled up. No one exited either vehicle. What the heck? Had Homeland Security spotted something wonky on her grandmother’s browser history? One never knew with Siobhan Doyle O’Malley. The situation looked shady as all get out. Maybe she and Grammy had just found themselves in the middle of a government op?

  Camden Point wasn’t that far from two Navy bases, so the thought wasn’t that strange. Still their little town on the shores of Connecticut had never had a high crime rate. Growing up they didn’t even lock their doors at night or when they left the house. Granted, she’d been gone for a few years, but Shay couldn’t imagine drug running or anything bad ever happening here.

  She got up and pulled back the curtains.

  “Grammy, are you expecting company?” She dropped the edge of the sheers to look over her shoulder. Her grandmother’s mouth scrunched up, and she gave a nod, but she wasn’t looking at Shay.

  “Gram,” Shay prodded.

  “Oh dear.” Her grandmother’s hands flew to her hair and she glanced down at the turquoise jogging clothes she still had on from her morning walk.

  “What?”

  “I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow. You’ll have to greet them while I fix my hair and put on my lips,” she called cheerfully with a wave as she hustled down the hall to her bedroom.

  “Greet who?”

  “The ghost hunters, dear.”

  “Just shoot me now,” Shay whispered. “Grammy,” she called down the hall. “You promised no more and you know O’Malley never comes around when they’re here.”

  She blamed this all on her brother Liam. He encouraged their grandmother’s obsession with the paranormal. While the rest of the family pretended to believe in Grammy’s ghost, the sharp lady knew they didn’t believe. Hence why Shay now had to deal with a bunch of loonies who either agreed with Grammy or, worse, were looking for a “donation” to exorcise the evil that resided in the house.

  “I know, I know, but this group is different. And O’Malley’s promised to cooperate this time.”

  “That’s what he always says.” Or rather, what you tell us, because no one else can see or hear him.

  They’d been through this scenario countless times before, starting when she was a child all through her teens. For a while her Gram had backed off, much to her parents’ relief. Then it started again a few years back. Group after group. A few looking for an easy mark. Some legit, but a lot of them were no more than clueless wannabes fumbling around in the dark, terrified of their own shadows. And all brought in by her grandmother to prove that the love of her life was still with her.

  Sure, they’d gotten a few K2 hits showing elevated electromagnetic readings, lots of orbs on camera—more likely a sign that they needed to keep the house cleaner—and a few whacked-out claims of demonic attachment.

  Whatever. She’d dealt with their kind before and if this group thought they’d con one penny from her family, she’d send them packing faster than you co
uld say, “boo.”

  “Shay.” Grammy poked her head out into the hall. “Be nice, dear.”

  “I’m always nice.” Well, mostly. A cool breeze from nowhere blew a rogue strand of hair across her face. “Okay, fine. Sometimes, but I’m only not nice when people deserve it,” she admitted under her breath.

  Taking another peek out the front window, Shay saw three guys, each holding a case and two of them handling a giant plastic tote between them. They were in deep discussion. After a few moments she left the window and headed to her grandmother’s bedroom on the main floor.

  “Grammy, you know you don’t have to do this.” She sat on the bed. “You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone and you sure don’t need a group of strangers to help you communicate with O’Malley’s spirit.”

  “Uh-huh,” Gram responded from the master bath.

  Maybe if Shay could get her to see reason, she could send the group away before they even crossed the threshold.

  But it was too late. One of them knocked on the door. Gram shooed her out of the room as she continued to get spiffy, as she put it. Shay stood, dreading the next few hours. If her Gram didn’t have such a trusting heart, if she weren’t so vulnerable to their lies, Shay would leave. She’d use the excuse that she needed to move her meager belongings to her new place. But she couldn’t trust them alone with Grammy. She’d seen first-hand how some of these groups operated.

  Open the door.

  Shay looked around. There was that voice again. A man, but it was just Grammy and her inside. Clearly stress was catching up with her. She didn’t believe in ghosts.

  Not anymore.

  A second knock on the door had her feet moving forward.

  Still… “Save the theatrics for the team, O’Malley,” she muttered.

  Shay opened the door to find the three guys and a camera in her face. They weren’t wasting any time, but cameras rolling before they even said hello? Were they hoping O’Malley would appear to let them in?

  Slowly the camera lowered.

  “Shay?”

  That face.

  That voice.

  Everything inside of her lit up like the night sky on the Fourth of July, until she remembered why she hadn’t seen him or heard from him in years and why they were standing on her grandmother’s front step.

  “Oh hell no.”

  Shay slammed the door shut and put her back against the cool wood.

  Chapter 2

  “Grammy, we need to talk,” Shay called out. “Now.”

  Her grandmother dressed in white slacks and a lemon-colored shirt, looking nothing like a lady who carried on conversations with a dead man on a regular basis, walked down the hall.

  “Shay, what’s wrong? Where are the ghost hunters?” A knock on the door answered her second question. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. We’re not having this discussion again. Now, if you can’t mind your manners, you don’t have to stay.”

  Her grandmother gave her the look, the same one Shay saw in the mirror when she was determined to do what she wanted. She could try to explain her actions, but right now wasn’t the time. Grammy wasn’t in the mood to hear excuses or logic. Shay nodded and walked to the far end of the living room.

  Colin Mackay.

  Of all the ghost investigation teams out there how had Grammy found him? It’d been five, no six years since she’d last laid eyes on him. Had he sought her out? No, based on his surprise, he hadn’t planned it. He’d never been a good liar, hated it in fact, so she trusted her gut. If he thought she was behind this whole thing, she was pretty sure her reaction made it crystal clear that he was dead wrong.

  They were all in the house now, completing the introductions: Don and Dave, blonds, one with a beard and one without, but clearly siblings. Then there was PJ—a silver-haired gent, and of course him.

  Did he have to look so good? He’d cut his silky, shoulder-length brown hair, and his once smooth baby face now sported a day’s worth of stubble, but otherwise he looked the same. Her Colin. The man she had intended to wake up next to, to share her day with (the crappy and good moments), to laugh with over stupid, silly things, fight with, and love until her last moments on this earth.

  Mentally she raised a glass of cheap champagne and toasted to the best laid plans of mice, men, and the stupidly-in-love.

  “Welcome.” Her grandmother gestured for them to sit. “You’ve all met my granddaughter, Shay, at the door. She’ll be—”

  “Staying,” Shay filled in. If she had thought for even a moment that she could leave, that idea had been squashed with Colin’s arrival.

  Don, apparently the leader, nodded and turned his focus back to her grandmother. Before he did anything else, he outlined the team’s goals: to bring peace of mind to Mrs. O’Malley and to make sure she felt comfortable and safe in her home. Grammy got a good chuckle out of that and assured him she was as safe as a chicken in a house full of vegans.

  “Good. I know you said during our initial call that you wanted to prove that you had a ghost living with you. We’ll do everything we can to help. We’ll come back and do multiple investigations, if necessary. But you have to understand we can’t force a spirit to interact with us. We also won’t fake evidence, for any reason.”

  “Not even for your fifteen minutes of fame?” Shay whispered the question, not thinking anyone would hear or answer.

  “Not even then,” PJ replied. “I don’t want to be famous. We just want to help and to find answers.”

  Her grandmother frowned at her. Dave raised his brow and looked at Colin, who shook his head, cheeks reddening. At least he wasn’t going to sit there in her grandmother’s house and deny the past.

  “Shay, can you give me a tour of the house while the guys talk with your grandmother? This way I can see where to set up our equipment.” Colin stood and dared her with his eyes to deny his request.

  Forgive. The word, barely a whisper, had her looking to the others to see if they’d noticed. Her gram’s frown deepened and she looked from Shay to Colin and back.

  Great. Now Grammy not only hears spirits, but can also read minds, because that had to be my subconscious talking to me.

  Shay swallowed and smiled. “Sure, let’s start upstairs.”

  She waited to speak until the two of them were standing in the tiny bedroom at the far end of the house that had been her room for the past week. It was barely big enough to hold the dresser and twin bed and still allow for a person to get dressed without banging her knees on the bedposts. With Colin in the tight space, Shay felt trapped.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to help—”

  “Help? You know how I feel about this stuff. You’re just encouraging her.”

  “No—”

  “And believe me, she is not paying your group one single penny for your so-called investigation.”

  “We don’t”—

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find—”

  Her mind screeched to a blank halt as his lips came down on hers. He kissed her, long and hard until she was panting for air when he released her mouth.

  “What? Wha…” She couldn’t even find the words. She was spitting mad and it took everything she had not to slap Colin. She couldn’t deny it was a nice kiss, okay, beyond nice. But. What. The. Heck.

  “That always was the best way to get you to be quiet.”

  “Do it again and you’re going to be singing soprano.” She dropped her gaze to get her point across.

  Colin held up his hands in the form of a T and she stepped back, waiting.

  “To answer your question, I’m here with the team at your grandmother’s request. We’re not trying to encourage her, but rather help. And before you ask, no, I didn’t connect the names. I just got the call from Don this afternoon with the bare basics.”

  She dropped onto her bed.

  “For the record, we never accept any form of payments from our clients.”

  “Great. But why are you here? You don’t even beli
eve in the paranormal.”

  “Neither do you.” He sat next to her, the heat from his body scorching every inch of hers where they connected. “Maybe this is a good thing. I can’t remember how many times you worried about your grandma and her imaginary friend. Maybe my team can help put his spirit to rest, if he’s here, and she can finally let go of his memory.”

  She hated to admit he was right. She had worried, still did, about her grandmother’s mental health and her inability to move on from her husband’s death. Shay could only hope someday to find a love like theirs. But this was Colin and she didn’t fully trust him.

  “I won’t let you make a mockery of her.” Shay shifted to face him and for a moment felt something like a zing when she looked into his whiskey-brown eyes.

  “We won’t. I won’t. Whatever we find or don’t find here, it stays private unless your grandmother says otherwise,” he assured her.

  “No.” She shot up off the bed. “No matter what, it stays private. I won’t let her life be turned upside down, or have people pointing and sniggering when she walks down the street. The evidence has to stay private.”

  “Who are you more worried about? Her or you, Shay?”

  Damn him for knowing too much. Why had she shared so many of her hopes, dreams and fears with him when they’d been together? Why couldn’t he stay where she’d left him? As a distant memory in her past.

  “Truth? Both or us, Colin. I’ve got a great job over at Osprey Inn Kids Camp as the assistant director. I don’t think the parents would want some crazy woman who believes in ghosts taking care of their kids.”