Lucky Stars (62 page)

He was uneasy.

“Although I can see why you’d think Caldwell is reincarnated in Cole,” Dempsey carried on, his eyes moving to Belle and giving her a gentle look before they shifted back to Jack, “I hope you can see why I believe this isn’t true. The initials are the same. The marital treatment is the same.” He again looked to Belle and muttered, “Sorry.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” Belle replied quietly.

Dempsey nodded then his eyes went again to Jack. “But the behaviour, as I understand it, is your brother.”

It was.
Absolutely.

And this could mean that it was Miles who pushed Belle down the stairs. He’d lived at The Point all his life, grew up there. He knew every inch not only of the castle but of the land surrounding it. He could get to and in the house without being detected. He could get out the same way.

His brother.
His own
fucking
brother.

“We need to talk to Miles,” Belle said and Jack looked up at her to see her looking down at him as she continued, “We need to ask him to let Cassandra touch him.” Then her head tilted sharply to the side as her eyes moved over his face and she asked, “Jack, are you okay?”

Miles would not do that. There wasn’t a chance in hell.

And he was most definitely not okay.

“We’ll talk later, love,” Jack muttered and looked back to Dempsey. “Is there more?”

Dempsey shook his head. “Not now. I thought it important to share my theory with you without delay so you could be aware your brother posed a possible threat. I’ve been loaned some papers, books, diaries, etc. and I have more reading to do, a few more people to talk to and if I find anything, I’ll contact you.”

“Next time, call,” Jack ordered and Dempsey’s lips quirked.

“Did any of the stuff you’ve read talk about magic?
Witchcraft?
Anything like that?”
Belle asked at this point.

“None at all,” Dempsey answered then finished, “so far.”

“So I wonder how that third ghost…” she didn’t finish likely because she didn’t want to cast her mind back to losing their child and how she did.

But at her words, Jack realized she hadn’t put it together. She thought it was a ghost. She didn’t think, possibly couldn’t wrap her mind around the thought of Miles sneaking in and pushing her down the stairs, killing their child at the same time wounding her without thought that such a fall could kill her as well.

Miles had told him in the stables that Jack would pay. He’d vow to do it through Belle. And now, possibly twice, he’d tried. Once, he’d attempted to fill her mind with rubbish and prey on her fragility by planting ideas about Jack and Yasmin in her head.

Once, he might have attempted to take her away from Jack another way.

Lewis saw the “ghost”.

They needed to find Lewis.

Now.

“I’m sure the coffee is ready now, Mickey. How do you take yours?” Belle asked, moving from the chair.

“He takes it by ordering it from the coffee house down the street,” Jack replied for Dempsey, rising from his chair.

“Jack!” Belle snapped, her eyes moving swiftly to his and narrowing.

“We have to get to The Point as soon as possible,” he told her. “We need to report this to Angus and Cassandra. They’ve been making little headway for weeks. This could be a breakthrough.”

“Oh, right, that probably would be smart,” she muttered.

Jack looked to Dempsey to see him gazing fondly at Belle. “You’ll pardon our rudeness at not offering you refreshments.” He spoke with politeness but it was a thinly veiled order.

“Right, mate,” Dempsey replied.

Jack caught Belle’s eyes. “I’ll show Dempsey out. Then we’ll have a quick breakfast and head to The Point.”

She nodded, offered her hand to Dempsey who took it, to Jack’s way of thinking, for several seconds too long and, finally, Jack showed him out.

By the time he was back upstairs, Belle had his coffee ready for him and bread in the toaster.

They had toast, coffee and gave the dogs a quick walk. Then they came back and had a shower together that Jack decided, even though it was imperative to get back to The Point, would be a long one.

A very long one.

And in the end, it was a very,
very
long one.

Then, on their Sunday alone together, Jack loaded Belle and his dogs in his Jag and headed to a castle full of people.

* * * * *

As with every day since Jack broke through her grief, waking up with Belle meant the day started brilliantly.

As with everything happening in his home, the possibility of this continuing was unlikely.

And, upon arrival at The Point, their already ruined Sunday degenerated.

This was because Jack found he had more guests.

As they said they’d do, Angus and Cassandra had called in reinforcements. And after Jack explained he wished to speak with the not so dynamic duo in his study with Belle and no one else so as not to distress his mother with the news about Miles, he was introduced to them.

A brother and sister pair.
Twins.
They were Angus’s niece and nephew, Lachlan and Lorna McPherson.

“Oh my,” Belle breathed when the motley quartet sauntered into his study and he looked down at her to see she was gazing with shy interest at the twins.
Or, more accurately, the male one.

With narrowed eyes, Jack took them in.

They were in their late twenties. Both ginger. And both, Jack was mildly pleased to see, didn’t appear in full Scottish regalia. Lachlan wore jeans, boots and a sweater that fit close to his broad chest. Lorna wore a jeans skirt, high-heeled boots, a form-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt and a long, colourful scarf wrapped around and around her neck.

And luckily, unlike Cassandra who was sporting what looked like six on three different places on her body including head, neck and hips, Lorna only had one scarf.

The female twin was more than slightly attractive. She was petite and rounded, much like Belle, but with masses of thick, curling red hair, delicate features and bright blue eyes.

Her brother was surprisingly tall, towering at least six inches over his sister. His ginger hair was cropped short, the waves contained though longish and curling around his neck. He had a short clipped, red beard, craggy, dominant features with a high, strong brow all of this making him appear older than his twin.

But they shared the same startling blue eyes.

It took Lachlan McPherson approximately half a second to lock eyes on Belle and a half a second longer to
grin
a wolfish grin at her.

“Oh my,” Belle repeated even more breathily.

“Jesus,” Jack muttered and felt Belle start at his side.

Angus, not one to miss much, one of the few things Jack respected about him, didn’t miss this.

Therefore, he clapped his nephew on the shoulder and boomed proudly, “He’s a McPherson!”

This made Lorna roll
her eyes and murmur, “Someone kill me.”

Lachlan, his gaze still locked on Belle, noted, “You’re prettier than your pictures.”

“Thank you,” Belle replied softly.

“By quite a bit,” Lachlan went on.

“Um… thank you,” Belle repeated, dipping her chin and looking under her lashes at him.

Lachlan’s wolfish grin turned predatory.

“Jesus,” Jack repeated, again on a mutter.

“Uh,
Lach
, just to remind you, the man standing right there has a soul that’s eternally bound to the woman at his side,” Lorna informed her brother then she finished bluntly, “There’s no way in hell you’re getting in there, mate.”

Her brother swung his head her way and tipped it down to catch her eyes.

“I know that,” he replied.
“Doesn’t make her any less pretty.”

Lorna looked to Cassandra and shared, “He breathes therefore he flirts. This is my lot in life. Can you imagine being connected to him through blood
and
profession and having to put up with this
constantly?
”

“I can imagine being connected to him but not through blood,” Cassandra returned, eyeing Lachlan appreciatively, her words getting his attention and he turned his roguish grin her way.

Lorna sought another ally, found Jack and requested, “Please, kill me.”

“I’d rather you tell me what your purpose is for being here,” Jack retorted, not in a good mood and none of this making his mood any better.

“They’ve got the gift,” Angus boomed and Jack looked at the older Scot.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“The gift!”
Angus boomed again without any further explanation.

“As I don’t share Cassandra’s reported powers of clairvoyance, you’ll have to explain,” Jack pushed with rapidly waning patience.

Lachlan threw himself in a chair and slouched back with his arms on the armrests. He then placed his ankle on opposite knee and reported, “We were on a job, it got hairy or we would have been here sooner.”

“It was in France,” Lorna added. “French ghosts…” she gave a delicate shiver, “not fun.
Especially if they’ve been beheaded.
That revolution of theirs left some seriously pissed off phantoms and all of them are a pain in the arse.”

“Holy heck,” Belle breathed.

Jack crossed his arms on his chest. “This does not answer my question about why you’re here now.”

“They’ve got the gift,” Angus repeated and Jack’s eyes sliced to him so Angus quickly went on.
“The gift.
The feel.
They can track ghosts.”

“I thought that was your job,” Jack remarked.

“Well, it is, lad,” Angus returned. “Cassandra can sense them, so can
I.
If we can’t, we can do readings. What I mean is,
Lach
and Lorna, they got the feel. That’s how the
McPhersons
got started in this business in the first place. All of us got it, some of us stronger than others.
Lach
and Lorna, they got it the strongest of all. They can track them and they can
call them out.
”

“Oh my,” Belle whispered.

Jack ignored Belle and looked between the twins. “And have you been doing that?”

“Aye,” Lachlan muttered. “Got here about an hour ago but didn’t even have to try. Minute we stepped over the threshold, we felt them. The wee ones, they’re here. Hidden and scared out of their minds, but they’re here. We haven’t had time to pull them to us but they’re here.” His eyes shifted briefly to Belle exposing he knew the whole story before they came back to Jack, “The third ghost, nothing.”

“Not one thing,” Lorna put in. “Not even a little bit. No trace.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Belle noted quietly and Jack uncrossed his arms to wrap one around her and pull her to his side.

“Unfortunately, it does,” Lachlan stated, coming out of his lounge. He sat forward and put his elbows on his knees, his gaze on Belle. “We got the briefing. Although Caldwell did his dirty deeds in this house and this could be a reason why his ghost would be tethered here, unlike Myrtle and Lewis, he isn’t a ghost. He’s like you with Brenna and Bennett here with Joshua.” He tipped his head to Jack. “The triangle is not made of two reincarnated souls and a ghost. The triangle is complete only if the trace of the third soul finds its host.”

Belle went still at his side, whispering, “Oh my God,” and Jack pulled her closer as his own body got tight.

“So, we’re dealing with a human,” Jack surmised, this information uncomfortably and disturbingly matching Mickey Dempsey’s theory.

“Absolutely,” Lorna replied. “
Cassandra
nor Uncle Angus could feel him or read him anywhere.
Except once.
This means the night,
erm
…” she hesitated, her eyes also going to rest briefly on Belle before coming back to Jack when she continued, “the recent sad event occurred, whoever he is was in the house. And not only that, Cassandra sensed him here not only because his host was here but because Caldwell, active in the host, had taken it over.”

This, Jack thought, was not getting any better.

“What on earth does that mean?” he asked aloud.

“It’s likely,” Cassandra entered the discussion, “and has happened before, that whoever pushed Belle didn’t even know they were pushing her. They might not even have been aware they were here at all. If Caldwell’s spirit is strong enough, he could take over his host’s body and the host would have no memory of the acts he or she was perpetrating while Caldwell had control. It’s almost as if they don’t share a soul like, say, you and Joshua or Belle and Brenna. If it’s like this then it’s like a spirit inhabiting a body. It can lie dormant or it can take over. If it’s strong enough and angry enough, it’ll take over.”

“That’s bloody ridiculous,” Jack growled.

“It may sound it, but it’s true,” Lachlan replied quietly, his eyes now on Jack, his elbows still to his knees but his body was alert in response to Jack’s swiftly deteriorating mood and Jack made note not to underestimate him. A flirt with a ludicrous profession he might be but by the look on his face and his posture, it was clear he was not easily bested. “It would explain why
there’s no readings
or traces of his ghost or presence in this house. If Caldwell had never taken over his host, even the children wouldn’t sense his existence. He certainly would leave no trace, as you and Belle haven’t of Brenna or Joshua.”