A Ghost at Stallion's Gate (8 page)

When the waiter picked up our dinner dishes and Alex ordered espresso, another favorite of mine, I knew he was not in the slightest rush to bring our date to a close. The perfect opening for me to pick his brain.

“What do you know about Darren Kelsey?” I asked him.

“He’s a magician by trade, with a specialty in close-up magic. That’s your favorite kind, as I recall. Darren, as the innkeeper, is the working end of a business partnership at the Rose Victorian. I believe that in time he’d just as soon stray away from magic and make a living at the inn.”

“Hmm, I see. Do you know anything about his personal background, where he came from, or his family, that sort of thing?” I dug a little deeper.

“He’s a little older than me, my best guess is about thirty-four. Though with is fair coloring and complexion he looks younger, don’t you agree?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I thought he was closer to my age, a tad older, maybe twenty-eight at the oldest. His blonde hair, light features and blue eyes are a real deception. Which brings up my next question. Alex, do you have any idea why Darren is fascinated with the life and disappearance of the 1920s era Creole actress, Marla Devereux?”

My question gave Alex pause, for just a moment. “It could be, and really Shannon, I have to caution you about this, but I suspect Darren might be fascinated with her because of a family myth that she was a lost relative or, that one of his ancestors was in some way, involved with her.”

“Alex, how do you know this?”

I do not know that this information is correct, it is just hearsay. You see, before I recommended you stay at the Rose Victorian, I did a little snooping around with colleagues up here, a normal precaution on my part. An old friend of mine at the castle said something curious, but at the time, not knowing you might get involved in the Stanley Coover estate, I did not give a second thought to his remark. Anyway, he said that having you as a guest might get Darren stirred up again. Now, understand that my first thought was that Darren had recently broken off a relationship and that at the most he might flirt a bit with you. And knowing you, I knew this was not an issue, you can diffuse any unwanted attention. But then I got to thinking that I hastily excused my friend’s remark and I snooped some more. Come to find out that Darren has tried to connect the genealogical dots in the generations of his family to locate missing ancestors who might be of the Melungeon and or Creole cultures. Many years ago his family hired a professional genealogist, who at that time, suspected that there might be Creole or Melungeon heritage. But the lineage remains incomplete. That’s all I know.”

“Wait, how did your colleague know that I might stir the pot, so to speak?”

“Because he knows of you, through myself and Rosario. You know how thoroughly impressed she is with your abilities. Shannon, in many ways, especially since she is an old friend of your family, you are the daughter, niece, close female relative she never had.”

“And he knows of me through you, how?”

“He met you, when you stood with me in the reception line at the benefit performance I gave this last winter. His name is Seamus O’Kelley. He was quite taken with you. Later he took me aside and told me you were a keeper. Ever since, he asks about you. According to him, you possess the Celtic blood memory talent for communicating with the past. I’ve dare not tell him how true his insight is.” Alex smiled.

“And how is it that he knows Rosario?”

“They are old friends. Ask Rosario about Seamus’s dad, Connor O’Kelley, I bet she’ll blush.”

“No way. Alex, you mean Rosario and Connor knew each other intimately?”

“I did not say that. But I suspect it.”

“Oooh I can hardly wait to grill Rosario.”  I giggled with delight knowing I now had an ace up my sleeve to use on her when she got too interested in a personal aspect of my life.

“Whatever you do, don’t get me into trouble with her. Promise you will never let her know you learned this from me,” Alex said.

“Hmm, okay. But I’ll keep the promise in exchange for a favor, right now.” I hoped my dare would get an eager reaction from Alex, and it did.

His dark eyes gleamed with mischief. “As you wish.”

“Right now, go with me over to Stallion’s Gate. I want to look at something.”

Alex did not hesitate. “I’ll pay the tab on the way out.” He got up, pulled out my chair and we left. In ten minutes we pulled into the gravel drive at Stallion’s Gate.

Chapter 14

We stood in front of the mansion. I handed Alex a makeshift map I had drawn of the estate’s grounds. “We’re not going inside,” I explained. “I want you to use this map to lead us out in back, I’ll explain as we go along.”

Alex looked at the map. “If we’re going to traipse about the grounds in the darkness, we need some flashlights. I’ve got some in the back of my car.” He turned around and opened the trunk of his car. After rummaging in a backpack, he handed me a flashlight. “Here, shine your light on the ground in front of us. I need my flashlight to spotlight the map.” He looked down at the map and asked, “Where to?”

Using the map as a guide, I pointed to the area behind the stables and instructed, “Out in back of there. Let’s start over here to the left of the mansion and go around the back. I’m pretty sure there’s a flagstone path out to the stables. I saw a path the other day when I was here with Josh.” I took Alex’s arm. “While we walk, I’ll explain why we are doing this.”

Even in the dark of night with only our two flashlights breaking through the darkness, I could see his face. He was excited and so was I.

“An explanation is a good idea,” Alex said.

And so I gave him a rundown of what I had found out this afternoon. “Marla Devereux was in a heavy court case about the time she went missing. She had been awarded a small fortune of money from the person called Empress Tatiana, a woman whose real name was far less glamorous. Her name was Gertrude Straub. Anyway, I got to wondering if Marla actually disappeared or if she may have decided to leave town and begin her life anew. Or, if Gertrude figured the court awarded fortune was the business breaker she could not afford and murdered Marla to prevent paying it out. Anyway, add to this a horse named Rory who seems to think he is too red in color and he misses having carrots.” I ended my explanation abruptly, satisfied that I had given a complete picture of the conundrum.

Alex stopped just as abruptly and said to me, “And we are out here stumbling around in the dark for what reason?”

“For Rory. I need to see where his stable is and the pasture behind it.” I took a step to continue our exploration, but I did not get very far. Alex would not budge.

“Rory who?” Alex insisted on knowing.

“Rory is the horse, a Clydesdale, that pulled Marla in her carriage in the Rose Parade on New Year’s Day of 1926. Marla went missing the week after and Rory died a short time after. He is in the trophy room of this mansion. Stuffed and standing, still hitched to the carriage.”

“Whoa, Shannon, you mean to say we are out here in the pitch black of night, hugging an old weed infested flagstone path, looking for a pasture that was the playground of a dead horse?”

“Alex, you’re making this out to be a wild goose chase, but it isn’t. I have my reasons.”

“More like a wild horse chase, if you ask me. So tell me, before we take another step, what, exactly, is your logic for what we are doing?”

Alex was not so playful now. Earlier he would have gone anywhere I asked. But now he was standing his ground and insisting on, of all things, practicality.

“Alex, please. It’s just a little further. I want to see the pasture that Rory loved. I have a hunch, a gut feeling. I just really need to do this. Humor me?”

“So, you’re saying that a ghost horse named Rory has visited you? And before you answer, make sure you can tell me the whole truth because if a ghost horse is talking to you, I bet Eric knows about it. And make no mistake Shannon, Eric may be your personal ghost guide, but he is my ancestor and he will tell me the whole truth.”

Pfft! Alex was not giving in an inch. “It’s like this, Rory knows something, in his horse sense way of logic, about Marla’s disappearance. And he’s given me a few clues. One of the clues is about a pasture. I want to see his pasture. I cannot give you a reason why. And as far as Eric’s knowledge of Rory, I guess he knows, I’ve not asked him and he’s not asked me.”

Alex studied me and I did not waver from his inspection. I stood my ground.

“Why ask me to do this with you, why not Joshua?”

“Because I don’t think Josh would understand.”

Alex responded by looking at the map. He looked at me and said, “About fifty feet more, over to the left, behind the barn. That’s where the pasture is.”

The path was ragged in this section. Obviously it had been neglected for decades. We came to a stop behind the barn. Back here away from all light sources, it was ink black. It took some time for my eyes to adjust. I closed them for minute and then looked out onto the pasture. I certainly did not expect to see bunny rabbits frolicking about.

“Why are there so many bunnies?” I asked aloud, not really expecting Alex to answer.

“Because it’s summer. Because the pasture has been neglected for decades and the ground has a lot of dandelion weeds and wild grass for the rabbits to feast on.”

“How many do think there are?” I asked.

“Dozens. More than what we can see. Most rabbits are not entirely white. So the brown and darker colored ones do not stand out in the dark. Also, from here they look like cottontails.”

“Like the Easter bunny?” I asked.

Alex whispered, “I’ll humor you on that frame of reference. Shannon, I think these are pet rabbits gone wild. And it would only take a pair of them, if you get my drift.” He gently poked me in my ribs.

“Very funny,” I said on a sour note. “Will they bite if we walk out there?” I asked.

“Probably not. They may scatter.”

We slowly walked out onto the middle of the pasture. I looked down and was amazed that our presence did not alarm the creatures. They hopped out of our way, content to pluck at the ground here and there, all around us.

“There are so many more bunnies than what we first saw,” I remarked. “Look, Alex, shine your light over there, at that patch where the group of bunnies is.”

Under the spotlight of our flashlights we observed rabbits pawing at the ground and fiercely biting at some plants.

“Looks to me like they are pulling up carrots.” Alex said.

“Duh, why of course they are and Alex, that is why I am out here. Why didn’t I think of this before?”

“You tell me. Shannon, you are not making any sense.”

“Horses and rabbits. What do horses and rabbits have in common?”

“Carrots?” Alex answered.

“Yes, that’s it. Alex, I’ve got to get Joshua on the phone. We need to dig up this pasture.”  I was so excited. Rory’s clue was perfectly clear to me.

Chapter 15

It was eight in the morning. The earliest time Josh said he could get a crew here and permission to excavate. I stood in the middle of the pasture. Josh approached from the same direction Alex and I had taken last night.

“The powers that be do not like this idea, at all, Shannon.” Joshua was not a happy camper. And I could not blame him. My request was bizarre by any standard.

“I know, Josh. But it is better, in the long run, to confront a controversy before it becomes a public issue. And you did say that Francisco was able to convince the Pasadena Conservancy that going forth with this excavation would not detract from their proposed use of the mansion. After all, if something did happen here in this pasture, well, it is far enough away from the main house, and not even in sight of it, that there should not be a public perception or public relations issue.”

Josh squinted into the morning sun and then turned to me. “Okay, but you do realize had it not been for Grandpa, I would not be going along with you.” 

I nodded my agreement. “Have some faith Josh, I know Zach would have. He would have backed me all the way on this.”

The sound of heavy equipment interrupted our personal debate. We turned to see a backhoe tractor creeping up on us. Josh waved to the operator to stop. He did and Josh went over to give him directions. Josh came back to me and said, “We need to clear out of here. Stand over by that barn, you can see what’s going on and you won’t be in the way.”

I did as I was told and watched as Josh took a bag of chalk dust and outlined the section of pasture I wanted excavated. He had just finished when Francisco showed up. Francisco walked out to the pasture to talk to Josh. The two men spoke for a few minutes. Then Josh pointed in my direction and Francisco came over to me. The noise from the backhoe was loud, I leaned toward Francisco.

He gave me a hug and in a loud voice said, “I see that as usual when there is a nagging mystery, you cannot leave well enough alone.”

I laughed. “Your clue is nagging, right? As in an old horse, an old nag? I knew you would understand. Thanks for supporting me on this. What convinced you?” I had to almost shout for him to hear me.

“Faith.” That was all Francisco said. It was all he needed to say.