Broken Promises (9 page)

The entity paused and allowed the frame to slowly drop back into the drawer. Then it turned and faced Stanley. He gasped in shock. Within the glowing light he was able to see a face, softly formed and wistful, the face of his dead wife stared back at him.

“Verda?” he called out tentatively. “That you Verda?”

A small translucent tear slipped down her cheek. She held her arms up towards him and nodded. And although her lips never moved, he could hear her whisper.

“Don’t forget, Stanley. Don’t forget.”

And then she was gone.

Frantic pounding on the door and ringing of the bell had both Mary and Ian springing from their respective beds and meeting at the top of the stairs. “Who do you think it is?” Ian asked as they jogged down the steps.

Mary shrugged. “Most of my visitors don’t knock.”

Ian reached the door first and opened it. Rosie threw herself into his arms, sobbing. “There’s something in my house,” she cried, tears running down her face. “I can’t go back there.”

Ian led her into the front room and guided her to the couch. “It’s okay, darling, you’re safe now,” he murmured. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”

She sat on the couch next to Ian. Mary tucked an afghan around her, sat on her other side and gave her a hug. “Do you want anything? A cup of tea? A glass of water?” she asked.

Rosie shook her head and took a few of the tissues Ian offered her. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said, catching her breath and mopping her face. “You must think I’m a goose. It’s just that I was so scared and didn’t know where to go.”

“Well of course you needed to come here,” Ian said. “We’re family.”

Mary looked over Rosie’s head and smiled at him. “Yes, we are family,” she agreed. “Now, what frightened you?”

Taking a deep breath that caused her to shiver, Rosie waited for a moment and then began to speak. “For the past two nights I thought there was something in my room,” she explained. “The closet door was open when I woke up and I know I closed it tightly. I can’t sleep with the closet door open. Then, the feeling in my room, it was...darker. And when I woke up, there was a body-sized imprint in my bed right next to where I was sleeping.”

“Are you sure...” Ian began.

She held up her hand and interrupted him. “Tonight I pretended to be asleep,” she said. “I heard the closet door open and I felt someone get into my bed next to me.”

“Rosie,” Mary exclaimed.

“I lay there, terrified,” she continued. “And then I realized the only thing I could do was pray. So, I did.”

“And?” Ian asked.

“And it got off the bed and I heard the closet door close,” she said, her voice trembling. “And then I jumped out of bed, grabbed my purse and my coat and came here.”

Ian fell back against the couch and stroked his chin with his hand. “You know, Rosie, unless you want to abandon your home, you’re going to have to go back,” he said. “The longer you stay away, the more powerful this entity will become.”

She turned to him. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked. “You believe me.”

Mary shook her head. “No, Rosie, we know you’re not crazy,” she replied. “There is something in your house. But you don’t have to go back alone. We’ll help you figure out who it is and how to get rid of it.”

“Aye, and you don’t have to go back tonight,” Ian said. “Just give me a moment and I’ll make up the bed in the guestroom for you.”

“But, Ian, that’s where you sleep,” Rosie argued.

Ian shook his head. “Rosie, me darling, no arguing tonight,” he replied, leaning over and placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be back in a trice.”

Shaking her head, she turned to Mary. “I just can’t believe this is happening,” Rosie said. “Who in the world gets haunted the week before they are getting married?”

As he walked across the room, another frantic pounding on the door stopped him in his tracks. Ian walked to the door and opened it to find Stanley on the porch scowling at him.

“It’s okay,” Ian said. “She’s fine, just a little shaken up.”

“What the hell you talking about?” Stanley growled.

Ian cocked his head slightly to the side. “Why are you here, Stanley?”

“Cause I got a gol-darned ghost haunting my house,” he exclaimed. “And if that ain’t bad enough, seems like it’s my wife, Verda.”

Ian shook his head and grinned. “Well, now, isn’t that a coincidence,” he said. “Sounds like Rosie’s got some haunting issues too.”

He stepped back and invited Stanley inside.

Rosie turned and looked over the back of the couch. “Stanley, how did you know?” she asked.

Stanley harrumphed and adjusted his trousers at the waist. “So, you get in trouble and you come knocking on Mary’s door,” he grumbled. “Seems like you oughtta been running to me for protection.”

“And just where did you run to when you had a ghost issue?” Ian asked nonchalantly.

“Ain’t the point,” Stanley countered with a sniff.

Ian laughed. “Sit down, Stanley,” he said. “I’ll put a pot on and then we can all discuss your ghosts.”

Mary tiptoed down the stairs and nearly jumped when Ian walked out of the kitchen. He put his finger to his lips and motioned with his head. “Stanley’s still sleeping,” he whispered.

Mary nodded and motioned to Ian to follow her back into the kitchen. “It was so nice of you to give Rosie your room,” she said. “How did you sleep?”

Grimacing while rolling his neck, Ian picked up his cup of tea. “Well, your recliner is not the most comfortable of beds,” he said. “But I’ll survive.”

“Yeah, thanks for giving Stanley the couch,” she said.

Ian looked over towards the living room and rolled his eyes. “The way that man snores, I’m surprised any ghost would dare enter his bedroom,” he replied. “We’ve got to get Stanley’s ghost out of there if we’re to be getting any sleep in this house.”

Mary chuckled softly. “Well, I could hear him upstairs, so I’m sure it must have been shaking the walls down here.”

“Waking the dead,” Ian replied.

Laughing, Mary nodded. “And maybe that’s the problem.”

Ian grinned. “Aye, it could be. So, are you ready for what lies ahead of us today?”

She nodded. “As ready as I will ever be,” she replied, “I’m wearing my power outfit.”

Ian glanced at her navy blue suit, striped silk blouse and high heels and nodded with approval. “That’ll do nicely,” he said. “They’ll not be able to shake you on the witness stand. You look like a strong and competent professional.”

“Good, because I feel like a frightened and nervous fifth grade girl,” she admitted.

“And, how do I look?” he asked, turning in a little semi-circle and sending her a wink over his shoulder.

It felt good to laugh, loosen the knots in her stomach. She really dreaded seeing Gary Copper again and feared, even more, what her reaction might be. “You look just fine,” she finally said. “But...”

Ian turned back around to face her. “But?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“But, really, the black spandex shirt would have been better.”

He laughed aloud and then immediately quieted his voice. “You are a tease, Mary O’Reilly,” he said and then he put a comforting arm around her. “And you’ll be fine. He’s not a big bad boogieman, he’s naught but a wee evil man and you already beat him once.”

“Jeannine beat him,” she replied.

“Jeannine beat him using your skills,” he answered. “He’s no match for you, remember that.”

A loud snore interrupted their conversation and Mary placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. “Shall we wait for Bradley outside?” Mary finally asked.

“It’s about ten degrees above zero out there,” Ian replied.

Another snore vibrated the room. “Aye, what are we waiting for?” Ian asked, grabbing his coat. “Lead the way.”

They had just closed the door behind them when Bradley pulled up in the cruiser. Hurrying to the car, Mary slipped into the passenger seat and Ian sat in the back. Bradley leaned over and gave Mary a quick kiss. “Good timing,” he said, “were you watching from the window?”

“No, we were escaping with our hearing intact,” Ian replied.

“Excuse me?” Bradley asked.

“Stanley spent the night on the couch,” Mary explained, “and he has a bit of a snoring issue.”

“Aye, like the Titanic had a bit of a water issue,” Ian said. “The man shakes the house with each breath.”

Bradley smiled, put the cruiser in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Why did Stanley spend the night at your place?” he asked.

“He and Rosie have both had encounters with ghosts in their homes,” Mary said. “Stanley thinks his dead wife is haunting him, but Rosie has no idea who is entering her bedroom at night.”

“Her bedroom?” Bradley responded. “That would be creepy.”

“Aye, especially when it decides to cozy up to her without her permission.”

Bradley stopped at the corner more abruptly then he would have done under ordinary circumstances. “What the hell? It’s getting into bed with her?” he asked. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine,” Mary said. “She came to the house late last night and Ian gave up his room to her.”

“Aye, the recliner is no place for a grown man to rest,” Ian said.

Nodding, Bradley smiled. “You have my full sympathy.”

He turned left onto South Street and headed towards Highway 20. “So what are we going to do about these ghosts?”

“We thought we’d check them out tonight,” Mary replied, “see if we can figure out who they are and why they’ve suddenly appeared.”

Bradley glanced over to her. “Do you have any suspicions? I mean, Stanley’s wife appearing to him a week before he’s supposed to marry Rosie sounds a little more like cold feet and a lot less than a cold grave.”

“So you’re thinking Stanley’s insecurities about getting married again are manifesting themselves in the form of his dead wife?” Ian asked.

Bradley glanced at Ian through the rearview mirror and shrugged, “I probably wouldn’t have put it exactly that way, but, yes,” he agreed. “He’s nervous about getting married again and he starts seeing things.”

“Actually, you have a fair point there,” Ian agreed. “But there’s also a chance that his dead wife might have been visiting him all along the while. And he just didn’t see her.”

Mary turned in her chair and looked at Ian. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would he suddenly be able to see her now?”

“Because of you,” he replied. “I’ve done some research about ESP and someone’s ability to see spirits and a great part of seeing is just believing you can do it. Most of us either don’t want to see a ghost or don’t believe we can. When we open ourselves up to the possibility, we release our minds to see what has often been there all along.”

“Since Stanley and Rosie have been helping Mary, and you, with some of these cases,” Bradley said, with a little skepticism in his voice, “you think their minds are more open to the possibility of ghosts and so now they can see them? I don’t know if I buy that one.”

Ian leaned back in his seat and thought for a moment. “Okay, think about it this way,” he suggested. “You’ve fallen in love with an extraordinary woman...”

Bradley turned and winked at Mary. “Yeah, I’m with you so far.”

Chuckling, Ian continued. “And suddenly, everywhere you go you find connections. You go to the grocery store and see the peanut butter she keeps on her top shelf and you stop and grin at the jar for a few moments before you catch yourself, shake your head and move on down the aisle.”

Smiling widely, Mary turned to Ian. “Really?”

Bradley glanced up into the mirror again and met Ian’s eyes. “You’ve been spying on me,” he said.

Ian grinned. “Aye, I saw you in the market the other day,” he confessed. “If I didn’t know the truth, I would have thought you loony for sure.”

“Thanks, Ian,” Bradley remarked. “But that doesn’t...”

“Aye, it does,” he interrupted. “Suddenly, because of your relationship to her, your mind is looking for connections. Her scent, her walk, the color of her hair. Your mind is cataloging and sorting all kinds of new information because you’re in love with Mary. Think about it.”

Bradley was silent for a few moments and then he nodded. “Okay, I admit I’m a little obsessed with anything Mary, but what does that have to do with ghosts?”

“It’s the way our minds work,” Ian explained. “You watch a scary movie and suddenly your home is filled with creaks and noises you never heard before. Were they always there? Of course they were. But you didn’t pay attention because you weren’t making connections.”

“But after a day or so, the scary movie sounds go away,” Mary said.

“Because that connection was short-lived and you can convince yourself in a day or so that it was merely a movie, not real life, and so you replace it with other connections,” he said. “Bradley will be mooning over peanut butter for years...”

Mary smiled, reached over and grasped Bradley’s hand. “I certainly hope so.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I can guarantee it.”

“And now, because of the work they’ve been doing with you, Rosie and Stanley are making connections,” Ian continued. “They are looking for the quick movements out of the corner of their eyes, instead of ignoring them. They are listening for the whispers in the dark. They are paying attention to the movement of the doors. They are suddenly aware of the world of the dead, and I believe the dead are becoming bolder because they realize it too.”

“Are bolder ghosts more dangerous?” Bradley asked.

“It just depends on their relationship with the person they’re haunting,” Ian said. “If they only want to warn them or send them a message, a bolder ghost is more helpful because the message will come through clearly. But if they are malevolent and they mean someone harm, well then, it’s not so good.”

“I think Rosie’s ghost should be the first priority,” Bradley said. “And maybe a couple of us spend the night there.”

“Aye, I’d like to see the look on the ghost’s face when he cuddles up in bed and finds one of us in there instead of Rosie,” Ian agreed.

Chuckling, Bradley agreed. “It should be an interesting experience for all of us.”