Dreams of Fire (Maple Hill Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Well, you didn’t know the Rutherfords before,” she said simply. “Family history didn’t seem very relevant until now. Forgive me. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you.”

Marianne thought and finally said, “If I think of anything, Grandma, I’ll call, I promise. I met some people here in Maple Hill who I think can help me. Do you know Sarah Landsman and Kelly Walker?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, Sarah is…someone who can see and hear spirits and has done all her life. She’s helping me with this. She’s the one who suggested I do research to identify the ghosts, since it might help her understand them and ask them to leave.”

 
“Very good,” Selene approved. “Well, if it lets poor Anne get some rest after the difficult life she led, then more power to you, dear. I’d like to meet your friend Sarah some time. She sounds like quite a woman. Give that dreadful George a kick for me, will you?”
 

Marianne smiled in spite of everything. “Okay, Grandma, I will. Thanks for calling me. If you have any other warning dreams, please call me, okay? I don’t always understand the ones I get, and I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes.”

“I promise. No more secrets between us,” and she rang off.

Marianne felt immensely better after talking to her grandmother. She ruminated about the revelations on George’s character and Geoffrey’s surprising relationship with him. Going to her office, she got out her notes and the copies she’d made from the library and stared at George’s obituary photo. It stared back at her with Geoffrey’s eyes. Well, that made things both easier and harder, and she would have to figure out what to do about the Rutherfords, both the living and the dead.

Cell phone time said 8:30. She opted to wait a little longer, put her dark hair into a ponytail, and spent some time cleaning the bathroom and kitchen. Putting her house in order helped clear her thoughts and settle her soul. She felt tinges of anxiety begin to gnaw at her but firmly pushed them aside, thinking how good it had been to hear her grandmother’s voice. Finally around ten, she sat on the couch, put her bare feet up on the edge of the coffee table, and dialed Sarah.

“Marianne?” Sarah’s voice answered.

“Hi, I hope it’s not too early to call? I was wondering if I could come over and talk with you sometime today? I did a lot of research yesterday and the day before and got some additional information over night, if you know what I mean, and I’d really like your thoughts on the matter.”

“Absolutely,” Sarah said unreservedly. “We’re home right now. Kelly’s doing some cooking. You want to walk over, or do you need a ride?”

“I’ll walk,” Marianne said in relief, thinking it would do her good. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
 

She threw her research folder and notebook into her pack, grabbed her purse, and said goodbye to Oscar.

Geoffrey Chubb sat at his desk staring at his computer screen. Papers were scattered across the surface, his jacket was hanging over the back of his chair and his tie was loosened a bit. The papers made him look busy and important as he ostensibly prepared a market analysis for a product line. However, at the moment, he was staring unseeing at his computer screen, trying to recall an odd dream he’d had last night. He generally classified his nighttime visions as jumbled nonsense from his waking life. Last night, though, was different. All he could recall were a couple of fragments.

In the dream his Uncle George had invited him to a party. He had met Geoffrey at the door and invited him in, shaking his hand. It didn’t seem important that his uncle had died when he was little.

“Geoffrey, I found something that belongs to you. She doesn’t belong here.” Uncle George ushered him to a door with a look of Santa giving out an especially wonderful present. “Go ahead. Open it. Take her back. She belongs to you.”

Geoffrey remembered feeling a mix of surprise and eagerness. He had reached for the door handle and pulled it open.
 

“She’s down here, waiting for you.”

With dawning realization that Marianne was below, Geoffrey said, “Perfect. Thank you, Uncle.”

Such a strange dream. Interesting idea, though, he considered. I hadn’t thought of Maple Hill, that stupid, little podunk town she was so proud of. I should check that out. He needed to find Marianne in case she got any ideas about calling his boss and telling him stories about Geoffrey’s dubious behavior at the company. Geoffrey knew he would use that kind of information as leverage if he had it.

He looked quickly at his calendar and saw that he and Sandra were scheduled to go see a new exhibit at the Guggenheim. This was more important. Maybe he could convince Sandra that going to the Hudson Valley on an antiquing expedition would be more fun. He did a quick online search and found there were several antique stores in Maple Hill. He dashed off a quick email and put his plan into motion.

The air was still relatively clear after the recent thunderstorm, and she walked the several blocks without getting more than dewy with perspiration. The distant drone of several mowers gave way to smells of cut grass, green leaves and late flowers, and she breathed in deeply. By the time she reached their house, breakfast and the walk had steadied her a good deal.
 

“Hey, come on in. We just put the kettle on for tea, unless you want iced?” Sarah said with a smile when she opened the door.

Kelly gave her a quick hug, holding her food-covered hands away from Marianne’s dark hair, before returning to the cluttered counter. Marianne sat at the kitchen table while Sarah made chamomile tea. Marianne sat at the wooden kitchen table and watched the two women move seamlessly around each other, relaxing into the good smells of the kitchen. Finally, Sarah sat down and poured three mugs, and Marianne opened her bag and described her findings at the library, her trip to the cemetery, and her conversation with Markus Bordman. The table was littered with photocopies and her research journal by the time she was done. Marianne experienced a little jolt when she realized that today was the anniversary of the fire that had killed little Samuel Jr.

Sarah sipped, listened, and examined each item for herself. “You’re very thorough,” she complimented Marianne. “I really appreciate that. As a lawyer, thorough research is crucial. Not many people do that. Anne seems most likely to be your lady ghost. Poor woman; having such a trauma in her childhood. It sounds like she married the man she thought she needed.”

Marianne looked at her quizzically.

“If George is the person your grandmother describes him as, then her family probably felt she was marrying up in the world,” Sarah explained. “As for her, George was well-to-do and controlled every aspect of her life, and that meant she didn’t have to. Maybe she thought he’d keep her safe. In addition, she may have felt responsible for the death of her little brother, and subtle punishment may have seemed justified to her.”

Marianne sat back silently absorbing this. She felt some uncomfortable parallels with her own life and wondered if she’d done the same. She didn’t have a trauma in her early life, but she had certainly married a man who had controlled much of her life for the last fifteen years. Had Geoffrey’s treatment of her seemed justified somehow? She’d have to think about that.

Kelly turned around with a broad chopping knife in her hand and a fierce scowl on her face. “That doesn’t make it right! What a dickhead. She didn’t have to live her life under his thumb. She just let it happen! Didn’t she have any friends at all?”

Marianne shrugged awkwardly. “I have no idea. If George ran her life, she might not have had any. She did teach piano lessons to a whole lot of children, though, so she had some light in her life. And, maybe when she played piano for their friends, she could lose herself for a little while.” I didn’t have a lot of friends to tell me my husband was treating me badly, Marianne thought. We just had his friends who probably didn’t see anything wrong. It would have been nice to have met these two women years ago!

Sarah nodded. Muttering darkly, Kelly turned back and chopped some vegetables loudly.

“You said you interviewed the first owner after the Rutherfords yesterday?” Sarah asked.

Marianne nodded and poured herself another cup of tea. “He almost didn’t come. He told me that he’d been especially unhappy in the house. He’s gay and at the time was trying to decide if he should come out of the closet or not. He thought he was going crazy because he could hear Anne crying in the basement.”

Sarah nodded sympathetically.
 

“He seemed a lot happier after we talked.” Marianne related her discovery about Adam Sullivan and her suspicion that he might be the angry ghost. “But then my grandmother told me about George Rutherford. That and the incredibly vivid nightmare I had last night make me pretty sure it’s him, not Adam.” Marianne retold her dream, concluding with hearing Geoffrey’s voice.

Kelly stopped her food prep and turned to listen to Marianne’s dream. “Do you think he could lock you in the basement again somehow and lead your ex to your door?” She looked at her partner. “Can he do that as a spirit?”

Sarah considered, unconsciously rolling her little crystal necklace between her fingers. “Spirits can do some pretty weird shit. I don’t think he could be in two places at once. There’s no evidence that he has communicated with Geoffrey directly, unless he has reached him through dreams?” She looked at Marianne.

Marianne laughed mirthlessly. “That seems so unlikely, since Geoffrey spent so much time denying that was possible.”

Sarah nodded and mused slowly, “If Geoffrey figures out on his own that you are living in Maple Hill and gets an address, it might be possible for George to key in on his presence in or near your house and somehow hold you there till Geoffrey arrives. I think George mostly wants you out of his house. If his nephew is the means to remove you, then I think he’d use that chance.”

Marianne said explosively, “But we’re divorced! He’s with Sandra! Why would he want to bother with me?”

Sarah shrugged and said, “Tell me about your ex.”

Marianne bit her lip and described their relationship up till the last year, trying to keep the details of the worst bits succinct. “After the divorce was finalized, I got a few emails from him telling me he had something of mine he wanted to return. I went the first time he sent me one, and he told me he’d thrown it away by accident. It was a photo I would have liked to have had back,” she said sadly. “At this point, if he has anything else of mine, I don’t care. I never want to see him again. He was pretty much stalking me for the last several months. It’s why I left New York—to get away from him. Now I’m getting texts hinting that he knows where I am or that he’s going to find me.”
 

She gestured helplessly. “I don’t understand why he’s hassling me! He’s got what he wants, a divorce. As far as I know he’s still seeing Sandra, and they plan to get married. I don’t understand why he needs to keep harassing me!”

Sarah observed, “Some people need to exert their control or influence over others to justify their own existence. Maybe he just likes tormenting you.”

Marianne made an unhappy face. “That would be typical. How can I get him to just go away?” She asked softly.

Sarah reached across the table and took her hands. “You are going to have to stand up to the bully he is and show him your power.”
 

Marianne looked at the table and said miserably, tears starting in her eyes, “Some days I think I could do that. After I get a nasty text from him, I’m not at all sure I could.”

Sarah squeezed her hands comfortingly. “You are stronger than you think. You’ll find a way.”
 

Kelly wiped her hands on her apron and gave Marianne a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Remember what I told you when we first met? I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. You can do it, girl. When the time comes, you will kick his ass!”

Marianne hugged her back, feeling tears spill down her cheeks. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

Sarah retrieved a tissue box from the counter, and putting it on the table near her guest, changed gears. “Does your ex know about your dreams, the true ones, I mean?”

Marianne wiped her eyes and blew her nose, gathering her thoughts. “When we were in college I dreamed about him cheating on a paper and mentioned it to him. He dragged me into counseling with him and all but convinced the counselor that I was imagining things due to stress. So I never talked about it again even when I dreamed things that came true.

“For instance, I dreamed of a person sleeping between us for months. When I confronted him with my suspicions of his affair, he denied it at first. He’d been careful to hide it from me, though I’m pretty sure his coworkers suspected. But I’d finally seen her face in a dream and said so.”

Sarah looked at her intently. “Did he take you seriously?”

“He rarely took anything I did seriously unless it benefited him.” She remembered the fleeting look on his face and said, “I think he was frightened just for a moment, but then he treated it as a joke.”

Sarah said speculatively, “I’ve been doing family law and estate planning for nearly ten years. People do the most screwy, illegal things you can imagine from embezzlement to affairs to murder, thinking they will never get caught. Would Geoffrey do anything illegal now?”

Marianne started to say, “No, I don’t think…” Then she remembered. “A couple of years ago Geoffrey got a big promotion that I thought was out of his reach. Around that time I had a series of dreams that suggested he’d trashed a co-worker’s presentation to get ahead.”

 
“Did you say anything to him about it at the time?”

Marianne opened her eyes wide. “Are you kidding? The last thing I wanted to do was rock the boat. No, I just suppressed it, and those dreams eventually went away.”

Sarah nodded. “What if he thinks you know what he did, and that makes him afraid of you? What if he thought you could somehow spy on him through your dreams?”

Marianne’s brows lifted as she protested, “But it doesn’t work that way!”