Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery (18 page)

But in the real world, in spite of her
stepfather's recent strange behavior, Peyton had never known Vance
to be violent toward her mother.

So why am I freaking out?

Peyton met her mother's disappointed eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mom," she uttered lamely. "I just had some weird
thoughts."

Melody sipped her coffee. "Did you have
another bad dream?"

"Yeah," Peyton admitted, losing what little
appetite she had.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." She frowned.
"You want to tell me about it?"

Peyton hesitated. "I'm not sure it's
something you want to hear."

Melody tilted her face. "Did it involve
me...and Luke?"

"Sort of--"

"Oh dear."

Peyton replayed the entire dream to her
mother, concluding with her unwanted dip in the bay.

"That's horrible," her mother gasped. "But
no matter how real it seemed, it was
still
a dream, Peyton.
Just like the other ones."

Peyton understood that, though there was
obviously some connection between her dreams and Caitlyn's history.
It was as if Caitlyn was purposely getting into her head to make an
ominous plea for help. Peyton wasn't sure there was anything else
she could do.

"I just want the bad dreams to end once and
for all," she said.

Melody's expression was sympathetic. "Maybe
they will now with school starting to get your mind on other
things."

Peyton wanted to believe that with all her
heart. Even if she still had reservations about it. She got up from
her partially finished breakfast. "I have to go, Mom. Can't be late
on the first day."

Her mother stood. "Are you sure you don't
want me to drive you?"

"No, Bry's driving me...us," she said.

"All right. Well, try to have fun on your
first day."

"I'll try," Peyton promised. Being with
Bryant was a good first step.

She kissed her mother on the cheek, ran
upstairs and grabbed her backpack, and was out the door. Bryant was
already waiting for Peyton in his car.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Nervous?" Bryant asked Peyton during the
drive. "You know, first day jitters."

Peyton smiled. "I suppose, just a
little."

"Well, don't be. Everyone else is in the
same boat at the start of the new school year, so you'll fit right
in."

That was comforting, except for one thing.
"What's going to happen with us?"

He looked at her. "What do you want to
happen?"

She colored. "That's just it. I don't want
anything
to change." At least not where it concerned them
being a couple.

"Why should it?"

"I meant with your being a senior and me
just a junior," Peyton said defensively. "I know how these things
work--at least in my old school, where it was pretty much not cool
to date below you...at least not in public."

Bryant chuckled and took her hand. "This
isn't San Diego. I like you and I'm not ashamed to go out with you.
If you think I plan to ditch you for a senior girl, forget it.
Satisfied?"

Peyton beamed, squeezing his hand. "For
now."

"So does that mean you have no plans to
check out those
junior
guys who'll probably trip over one
another to have a shot at the new attractive California girl in
school?"

"What do you think?" She batted her lashes
at him theatrically.

"Here's what I think..." Bryant said,
stopping at a red light. He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth
long enough for Peyton to become breathless. "That answer your
question?"

She touched her lips, which were still
tingling. "Does it answer yours?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then it answers mine, too."

Peyton kept holding his hand and wished she
never had to let it go at school or anywhere else.

In the back of her mind, Peyton still had
the unsettling thought of Bryant's father and her mother somehow
carrying on behind her stepfather's back, with disastrous
results.

* * *

By the time Peyton was dropped off at home
that afternoon, she had found the experience of going to a new
school not so bad after all. It was only the first day, but Peyton
already felt comfortable and the classes did not seem too
overwhelming. She missed having Erica around. And Lily, too, who
had gone back to Atlanta yesterday with plans to visit Shadow Bay
during Christmas break.

But she did have Bryant, who was more than
Peyton could ask for as a boyfriend. He had just given her a nice
goodbye kiss. Earlier, he'd introduced her to his friends at school
and made it clear they were an item. She looked forward to spending
more time with him without having to deal with ghosts and
goblins.

Peyton saw her stepfather's car in the
driveway. She suspected Vance had gotten home sooner than usual
because he had gone to work so early that morning.

She went inside, tossing her backpack on the
floor. The TV was on in the living room, but no one was watching
it. She was about to head for the kitchen, but saw the light on in
the study and took a detour.

The first thing Peyton saw in the study was
a shotgun. It was leaning up against the bookcase, as if on
display. What was it doing there? She picked the gun up, studying
it. She didn't know anything about guns, but it looked in pretty
good condition and very old.

Peyton's heart lurched as she realized the
shotgun looked very much like the one in her dreams, first used by
Byron St. Claire and then by Vance...to kill--

Peyton panicked. Vance had used the shotgun
to murder her mother. Now he intended to kill her to keep silent.
She imagined that he had shot Luke, too.

"Be careful with that, girl!" the voice
warned from behind her. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Turning around, Peyton looked with terrified
eyes into the face of her stepfather. She took a step backwards,
the shotgun still in hand.

"What did you do to my mother?"

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Did you shoot her with
this?"

Vance chuckled mirthlessly. "Are you out of
your mind? What on earth makes you think I'd shoot Melody with that
old shotgun?"

Peyton tried to gauge whether he was serious
or merely trying to lull her into a false sense of security. She
looked at the shotgun again, her sweaty palms clinging to the
wood.

"Because I had a premonition that you
would," she blurted out, realizing how foolish it probably
sounded.

Vance pressed his lips tightly together.
"Well, your premonition is wrong! The shotgun isn't even loaded and
probably hasn't been fired in years, if not decades. I picked it up
at a gun show this afternoon."

Peyton held his gaze suspiciously. She
didn't know he was interested in guns. What else did she not know
about him?

Or had he somehow come under the spell of
Byron St. Claire?

"What for?" she demanded.

"If you must know, it's for an advertising
campaign," Vance said succinctly. "I resent the suggestion that I
bought it to, well, commit a crime against someone I happen to love
dearly."

Peyton was far from convinced. She sighed,
never taking her eyes off him.

"Where's my mother?"

"Last I knew she was in the kitchen." Vance
approached her, extending his arms. "I'll take that--"

Peyton debated whether or not to give him
the shotgun. For all she knew, he would take it and shoot her.

What should I do? What if he's a killer?

Fearing he would not let her by if she tried
to make a run for it, Peyton tossed the shotgun to the floor
several feet away.

"Oops, guess it just slipped out of my
hands," she said insolently.

Vance glared at her and went for the
shotgun, allowing Peyton to race out of the study.

She ran to the kitchen, praying that her
mother was in there, alive and well. But all Peyton saw was a
couple of pots on the stove with food cooking. Her pulse quickened.
She was sure her mother had been the victim of foul play.

And that Vance was the perpetrator.

Nearly overcome with fear, Peyton bolted
into the hall. She saw her stepfather approaching from the study at
a rapid pace.

She mounted the stairs, screaming, "Mom, are
you up there? Did he hurt you--? Mom--!"

Peyton could hear Vance's heavy steps coming
after her and actually feared he might shoot her in the back. She
rushed to the master bedroom, afraid of what she might find.

"Mom--!" she called out again to no
response.

It was only when Peyton entered the
bedroom--envisioning her mother's bullet-riddled body spread across
a bloody bedspread as a corpse--that she almost bowled her
over.

Melody grabbed her shoulders, keeping them
both from falling. "Peyton, calm down. What's gotten into you?"

Peyton had to catch her breath.
So she
wasn't dead or shot
.
Maybe Vance hadn't gotten around to
carrying out his plan yet
. "Did he try to hurt you?"

"Who, honey?"

Peyton turned and saw her stepfather filling
the doorway.

Vance stepped in, holding the shotgun.
Peyton immediately cuddled her mother protectively.

"Him--" she said.

Vance cocked a brow. "She freaked out,
thinking I planned to use this old relic to shoot you."

"What--?" Melody eyed her daughter.

"She claimed it was a premonition or
something," he said. "I tried to tell her that was plain crazy, but
she wouldn't listen. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. I'll
go put this away and check on the food. Hopefully it hasn't
burned."

A shadow of bewilderment crossed Melody's
face. "Oh, Peyton, why would you think such a thing?" She paused.
"Does it have something to do with your latest dream?"

Peyton waited till Vance was downstairs
before saying anything, not even sure what to believe herself at
this point.

"That shotgun Vance has was in the dream,
Mom," she whispered. "It's the same one he used to shoot you, me,
and Luke..."

Melody drew a ragged breath. "That's
impossible."

"Don't you find the fact that he brings home
this old shotgun after I had the nightmare about his killing
rampage just a bit creepy?"

"No, I don't," she responded flatly. "We've
been over this, Peyton. Your dream is not
our
reality. It
did not make Vance purchase the shotgun with the intent to kill me,
you, or even Luke. As it is, he told me about his advertising
campaign with the shotgun last week--well before your nightmare.
So, you see, this was not some sort of omen that you had."

Peyton sighed. Was her convoluted dream
about Vance taking the place of Byron St. Claire as a killer way
off base?

Am I spooking everyone for no reason?

"I'm sorry, Mom," she said, knowing her
apparently false accusations against Vance would put a definite
strain on things again. "It's just that when I saw the shotgun...I
guess I let my imagination get carried away with itself."

Her mother hugged her supportively. "I'll
talk to Vance. Everything will be fine."

Peyton wasn't too sure about that, for
reasons she could not explain. Her mother kissed her cheek.

"I hope so," Peyton said.

"We're all still trying to adjust to living
in Shadow Bay," she said. "It'll just take some time before you
feel totally relaxed here and the dreams disappear for good. Now go
wash up. Dinner will be ready shortly."

Peyton wondered if she would ever get past
the negative dreams and bad vibes surrounding this house. Something
told her that might be a tall order as long as restless spirits
remained within the walls.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

"That's just way too bizarre," Erica said
when Peyton told her about the dream and Vance's shotgun.

"Tell me about it," muttered Peyton in
FaceTime over the phone. Not wanting to burden Bryant with it, she
couldn't dare bring this stuff up to girls she'd just met at
school.

The last thing Peyton needed was to be seen
as new and nutty to others. And while her mother was convinced
there was nothing to worry about, she still had a gut feeling that
something bad was about to happen.

"So, like you really believe your stepdad
plans to shoot you and your mom...and Bry's dad?"

"Yes, no...I don't know," Peyton said, her
legs outstretched across the bed. "Maybe I'm just freaking out
about nothing. But it seems like there's been a pattern to the
dreams and the appearances by Caitlyn. And she did warn Lily's
grandmother that the house wasn't safe. What if Caitlyn was trying
to tell her the same thing that happened fifty years ago on
September 6th would happen again this year?"

"That's scary, Peyton," Erica uttered.
"Having my best friend murdered by the reincarnation of a dead
psycho killer gives me the shakes."

"Me, too. I don't even want to think about
it."

"Well can't you go to the cops or
something?"

"Yeah, right. And tell them what? That the
new girl in town, who supposedly saw a girl in the bay that nobody
else did, now believes her stepfather's planning to murder his
family and kill himself--reminiscent of a similar crime fifty years
ago. Oh, and he's going to do it with a shotgun that I dreamt about
before Vance ever bought it. After they laughed their heads off,
the police would probably lock me up as a public nuisance or a
danger to myself."

Erica moaned. "So what then--you just sit
back and wait till it happens?"

"I don't know that it will happen," Peyton
said, feeling frustrated. "Not much I can do at this point other
than hope the warning signs of trouble ahead are just part of my
overactive imagination. My mom, who would be the primary victim of
any such violence, doesn't seem the least bit concerned. And I
doubt that Bry's dad would believe he was in danger either, not
based on my communication with the dead and buried. So I guess I'll
just have to wait it out and hope for the best."