Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery (11 page)

Peyton thought about it and his keeping her
cell phone as if it was his own private property. "I don't see why
he would," she said evenly. "He wants me to have friends here and
it's not like we're doing anything wrong by hanging out together."
Not that this had stopped Vance from being overly controlling
lately.

Bryant rubbed Hugh's head. "Sometimes
parents think whatever their kids do is wrong, especially when they
aren't around to keep an eye on them every second of the day."

"That's a scary thought," Peyton joked, but
took it seriously enough. She couldn't imagine having to deal with
Vance looking over her shoulder 24/7.

"Oh, by the way, I told one of my friends
about Lily," Bryant said casually.

Peyton's eyes widened. "And...?"

"He wants to meet her."

"Really?"

"Yeah. His name's Kirk. I told him I'd get
her phone number from you."

"I'll get it," she promised
enthusiastically, while hoping she didn't have to get into it right
now with him about her own cell phone issues.

"Good. Well, I've gotta run."

Do you really have to?
"Okay."

He leaned forward and kissed her lips. "See
you tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it." Peyton beamed,
happy that he'd kissed her. "See you later, Hugh."

The dog barked and licked her hand.

After they left, Peyton savored the kiss and
what seemed to be a growing relationship between them, before
turning her attention to the ghost girl named Caitlyn. She pulled
the photo of Caitlyn and another girl from her pocket. She had to
find out more about Caitlyn and what actually happened to her.
Peyton remembered Lily saying that her grandmother had lived in the
same house all her life. Maybe she knew this family.

At worst, perhaps she can tell me what she
knows about ghosts.

And if it was really possible for one or
more ghosts to occupy a house and possibly possess dreams...

* * *

Caitlyn watched from the window as Peyton
talked to the caretaker's son and played with his dog. If only she
were able to have fun again and attract boys. But that wasn't to
be. At least not as things stood at the moment.

For now, Caitlyn was far more interested in
breaking free of her father's chains that had bound her far too
long. She hoped that would all change soon. With Peyton, she could
make it happen, as this was as much her destiny as it was
Caitlyn's.

Looking up, Caitlyn saw her mother standing
there. She was still the most beautiful woman Caitlyn had ever
seen. She wished she had stayed alive to grow up to be like her
mother.

Her mother smiled and nodded at Caitlyn. She
understood and followed her.

They found Melody in the master bedroom
reading a magazine. She could not see them, but she must have felt
their presence, for Peyton's mother looked up momentarily, before
returning to the pages.

Caitlyn watched with awe as her mother
entered Melody's body almost as naturally as entering the room.
Almost immediately, Melody went for her cigarettes, lighting one,
as Caitlyn's mother had loved to do. She gazed at Caitlyn, smiled
generously, and blew a plume of smoke into the air.

"It's so good to be alive," Melody uttered
happily.

Caitlyn agreed, but knew it would be
short-lived.

* * *

Peyton knocked on the front door of the
Victorian house that looked very much like her house.

It opened and Peyton saw a short,
white-haired woman standing there.

"Hi. Is Lily around?"

The woman peered at her behind gold-rimmed
glasses. "She went to the drugstore to get my prescription. She'll
be back in a few minutes."

For an instant, Peyton froze. She had
counted on Lily's presence to help get her through the discomfort
of talking to a stranger about ghosts, of all things. Maybe she
should come back later.

"You must be Peyton?"

Peyton nodded. "Yes. I'm guessing you're
Lily's grandmother?"

"That's right" Her face crinkled when she
smiled. "Looks like Lily has been talking to us about each
other."

Peyton wasn't sure if that made her feel
better or not. She hoped Lily's grandmother didn't think she was
just a little bit off her rocker.

"I'm Frances Kramer," she introduced
herself. "Would you like to come in and wait for Lily? I could use
the company."

"That would be great," Peyton responded
almost too eagerly.

"I was just about to pour myself a tall
glass of lemonade," Frances said near the kitchen. "Can I get you
one, Peyton?"

"Yes, thanks." She was only too happy to
accept the hospitality. Quenching her thirst would be a bonus.

A few moments later they were sitting in the
parlor.

"I understand that you and your parents are
living in the old St. Claire house," Frances stated.

Peyton raised a brow. "Yeah, I guess."

Lily's grandmother chuckled. "Of course,
there have been a few other families living there since they
departed."

"Lily told me that you've lived here all
your life," noted Peyton.

"Pretty much, not counting the year my late
husband and I spent overseas--living in England, France, and the
Netherlands. It was interesting, but no place can compare to Shadow
Bay."

Peyton was inclined to agree, but not
necessarily for the same reasons. She wondered if Lily had told her
grandmother about the ghost.

Does she really believe in such things as
ghosts and haunted houses?

"So how have things been for you in the new
house, Peyton?" Frances looked at her curiously.

Peyton sipped her lemonade thoughtfully.
"Well, my mother and stepfather love living there," she said. "I'm
trying my best to adjust...except that, uh--"

Lily's grandmother lowered her glasses a
notch. "You've seen one or more ghosts...?"

Peyton flushed. "Did Lily--?"

"She didn't have to. Through the years,
others have complained about the same thing ever since...it
happened--"

"What...?"

Frances hesitated, as though a lump were
caught in her throat.

Peyton decided now was the time to say what
was on her mind. "I've been having dreams about a man shooting
another man, his daughter
Caitlyn
, and his wife--in the room
that's now my parents' bedroom. And I've seen Caitlyn several times
when I'm awake. But everyone seems to think I'm just imagining it,
lying, or just plain crazy."

"Oh, dear." Frances closed her eyes for a
moment. When she opened them, she looked Peyton in the eye.
"Caitlyn St. Claire was my best friend. Our families moved to
Shadow Bay within a month of each other many years ago. We quickly
bonded and, for a while there, we were almost inseparable. Then
tragedy struck..."

Peyton watched as Frances trembled while
touching her glasses. She waited with anticipation, barely
believing that this elderly woman was best friends with Caitlyn, a
girl who was about Peyton's age.

Frances clasped her hands. "Caitlyn's
mother, Rebecca, was absolutely gorgeous. Everyone knew that. She
was also the world's biggest flirt--or at least Shadow Bay's. This
didn't go especially well with her husband, Byron St. Claire. A
businessman, Byron was often away from home. But that didn't stop
him from being quite jealous and possessive where it concerned his
wife. When Rebecca got involved with their caretaker, Trevor
Newbury, Byron was apparently the last one to know. He caught them
together one night and...snapped." She sighed. "Byron killed them
all...including Caitlyn, before taking his own life--"

Peyton shuddered at the thought. So it
really did happen!
But that still doesn't tell me why I've been
forced to witness such a horrific thing over and over, as though
I'm involved in their tragedy.

She pulled out the photograph of Caitlyn and
the other girl. After looking at it, Peyton gazed at Lily's
grandmother, looking for some resemblance. She thought there might
be something in her expression, but couldn't be sure.

Peyton handed her the photograph. "Is that
you with Caitlyn?"

Frances studied it and looked at Peyton.
"Where did you get this?"

"I found it in the attic, along with a doll
that belonged to Caitlyn."

"I see." Lily's grandmother stared at the
photograph again. "Yes, it's me. My father took it in this very
room more than fifty years ago. Caitlyn was sixteen and I was one
month shy of that. Shortly after that, Caitlyn was dead."

"You can have it if you want," offered
Peyton, feeling sorry for the loss of her close friend, though so
much time had passed since then.

"No, you keep it," she insisted. "I think
Caitlyn wanted you to have it for some reason."

"But why? What could she possibly want with
me? I just can't figure that out."

Frances mused. "I'm not sure. Maybe Caitlyn
thinks that because you're her age, you can be her friend like I
used to be. Spirits who die unnaturally sometimes find it difficult
to move on to the next world. With the awful things that happened
in that house, I'm not surprised at all that it's the source of
restless souls haunting whoever occupies the space that was once
theirs."

Peyton sucked in a breath, trying to
understand this. As if it could ever be that simple.

"Has Caitlyn ever appeared to you?"

Frances swallowed contemplatively. "No, she
hasn't. And I'm not sure I'd want her to. Our memories are too
special to want to risk being marred by supernatural forces that
Caitlyn may have no more control over than I would."

"But you must have sensed her presence in
the house at some point over the years."

"After the horrific crime, my parents didn't
let me near that house, as if it were forever cursed," explained
Frances. "To this day, almost fifty years later, I've avoided it
like the plague, though I'm not sure why. I know Caitlyn would
never hurt me. Not like her father hurt her. Perhaps the memories
of that fateful day...the tragedy suffered by my dear friend, are
just still too strong."

Peyton could relate to that. She could only
imagine how freaked she would be if Erica was a victim of foul
play, especially if she was killed by her own father.

Frances took off her glasses. "My advice to
you, Peyton, is not to shut Caitlyn out if she appears to you
again. Could be the warmth you resonate is just what she needs to
let go of whatever it is that's keeping her there."

"And the dreams about the shootings?" Peyton
asked tensely. "How can I get them to stop without losing my grip
on reality or staying awake 24/7?"

"I think the dreams are a manifestation of
the darkness that's hung over that house for so long," Frances
said. "For some reason, you've been able to tap in more deeply than
others. My guess is that once Caitlyn's at peace, these dreams will
cease. When that will happen, I can't say. But I will pray for you,
Peyton, as I have for Caitlyn's soul all these years."

"Thank you."

Peyton was glad that at least someone in
Shadow Bay understood what she was going through.
I'm not really
alone in this bizarre situation anymore.

Frances smiled. "Thank you for sharing this
with me, Peyton. I'm only sorry you're being put through something
you don't deserve."

"I don't think Caitlyn deserved what
happened to her either," Peyton said, saddened by the violent way
her childhood had ended so abruptly.

"No, she didn't," Frances agreed.

They heard the front door open and slam
shut.

"Where are you, Nana?" Lily bellowed.

"We're in here," her grandmother said,
winking at Peyton.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Your grandmother's really cool," Peyton
told Lily as they sat on her bed.

"Yeah, she is," Lily agreed, crossing her
legs. "She even lets me do my room--it used to be hers when she was
a girl--any way I want to while I'm here."

Peyton glanced about the bedroom. She found
herself imagining Caitlyn being in there many years ago. Peyton was
still trying to come to grips with what Lily's grandmother had told
her. It seemed to fit right in with what was happening to her. Only
Peyton still hadn't figured out how to put a stop to it.

Lily seemed to sense that she was
preoccupied. "So did you tell Nana about the girl ghost?"

"Yeah, we talked about it, and more," Peyton
said.

Lily grinned. "See, I told you Nana could
relate to the spirit world in ways beyond most of us mere teenaged
mortals."

"She does understand a lot more than I
thought possible."

"Like what?"

Peyton revealed that her grandmother not
only believed ghosts exist, but that she knew
this ghost
personally. At least when Caitlyn was alive.

Lily's eyes widened. "You're kidding--Nana
and
your
ghost girl were best friends?"

"Yup, amazing as it sounds." Peyton showed
her the photo. "It's Caitlyn and your grandmother, when she was
fifteen."

Lily studied it with fascination. "Wow.
Nana's so...young...and Caitlyn looks...well, so normal--"

Peyton chuckled. "She was back then."

"So what happened to her?"

Peyton frowned. "According to your
grandmother, Caitlyn was murdered by her father."
And I
witnessed it, sort of, in my dreams more than once.

Lily sighed. "That is just too eerie."

"Yeah, I know."

"Does Nana think you need to have the house
exorcised or something to make the ghosts go away?"

"Not quite. She thinks Caitlyn just wants a
friend...and I happened to come along. Your grandmother believes
that once she has her fill of me, Caitlyn will drift off into the
sunset. But I'm not so sure."

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Me neither. Why
would ghosts need friends? I mean, it's not like they should be
lonely with millions of other dead people turned into spirits to
hang with."