What's a Ghoul to Do? (21 page)

I raised one eyebrow. "What else you got?"

Steven laughed. "Plenty," he said with confidence.

"I'll believe that after I've seen the full monty," I quipped.

Steven gave me a sexy grin and began to slowly unbutton his jeans. Just as I was about to see if monty was in fact a python, a huge crash rang out right below our bedroom. "Holy crap!" I squealed as I jumped off the bed and hurried through the door, Steven close on my heels.

"What room did it come from?" I asked as we got to the stairs.

"The library," he said, and started ahead of me. We crested the landing and turned the corner into the library, surveying the scene. One of the giant bookcases that lined the wall had toppled over, strewing books all over the room and smashing a wing chair. "My God," Steven whispered.

My antenna was up and scanning the room. I felt the vestiges of something paranormal, but it was hard to tell whether it was male or female. For some reason it felt mixed. "Who did this?" Steven asked as he turned to me.

"They both did," I said.

"Grandfather and Maureen?"

"Feels like it," I said. "They both seem a little pissy, but I think it's with each other, not at us."

"Are we in danger of another temper trampoline?"

I grinned. "Temper tantrum. And no, once they pushed over this bookcase they both zipped back into the mist. I don't feel them hanging around here."

Steven bent over and picked up a book. "What a mess," he said.

"Yep. We'd better get started," I replied, and bent down to pick up an armful of books.

"Or we can go back upstairs and worry about this in the morning," he coaxed.

I avoided looking at him. The truth was that I'd been damn close to jumping his bones just now, and honestly, I'm just not that kind of girl. "I think we should pick this room up and keep a vigil. Andrew and Maureen are very active, and I believe they may take a short breather and come back to cause some more mischief."

"My idea sounds like more fun," Steven said.

"My idea will keep us safe," I replied as I put a stack of books on the nearby desk and turned to him. "Besides, you already had your fun this morning." The comment slipped out before I'd had a chance to think about saying it, and I immediately regretted it.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"I was out for a jog this morning," I said, blowing out a sigh. There was no way out of it now. "I saw you coming out of that woman's house. You two looked quite chummy together."

Steven actually laughed. "And did you recognize the woman I was with?"

I looked at him, and it was my turn to cock my head. "Yes," I said. "She was the waitress at that grinder restaurant."

"Annalise is a very old friend of mine," he began.

"I'll bet."

He smiled, as if he were amused by an inside joke I wasn't privy to, then moved over to where I was leaning against the desk and traced a line from my cheek to my collarbone with his finger. The move was so light it made me want to shudder, but I stiffened instead. "During the summer holidays when I visited my grandfather, he would pay her to watch after me to give my mother some time for herself," he explained.

"She was your babysitter?" I asked, a little surprised by how far back they'd known each other.

"Yes," he said with a broad smile. "That first summer I was eleven and she was sixteen. I had a … er… crash into her? You know, to like someone older than you?"

"You had a crush on her," I supplied.

"Yes, I was crushing. It feels the same when you are a young boy and suddenly these urges develop, you know?"

"Did she ever reciprocate?" A forward question to ask, but he seemed to be opening up, and I wanted to know.

"No, I wasn't the Sable she was interested in," Steven said, and there was the smallest bit of venom in his voice.

"What?"

"She was much fonder of my father," he said.

"You're kidding," I said, watching him closely for any hint of deception. "But I thought he stuck to Boston?"

"My grandfather was a forgiving man. He always held on to the hope that my father would come around. So he would invite dear old Dad up for a weekend, but my father would refuse to come to the lodge while I was here. They would meet in town at Helen's and talk, and after a few days Steven Sr. would go back home."

"So, what happened between Annalise and your dad?"

"Annalise is Helen's niece. She worked at the bed-and-breakfast for a few years, and that's how she met my father. My mother heard from some of the locals that she and my father had an affair, and this upset my mother, because she had thought he might still love her. That was when I was fifteen, and after that my mother refused to come here during the summers."

"So, Annalise and your father had an affair, and then he ended it and that was it, right?" I had a feeling there was more to it, but I wanted to see what Steven would tell me.

"No, unfortunately not. Annalise became pregnant and had a baby girl."

"Your father had
another
illegitimate child?"

"I don't know for sure," Steven said as he went back to stroking my collarbone. "Annalise never told me or anyone who the father was. But twelve years ago she gave birth to a little girl she named Shanah."

"Doesn't Shanah wonder who her father is?" I asked.

"Shanah doesn't wonder much at all. She's mentally handicapped. Annalise tried to give birth at home, but the baby was deprived of oxygen. Shanah nearly died."

"That's so sad," I said, feeling ashamed of myself for prying.

"Yes, it is. Now Annalise works two jobs and does the best she can to take care of her daughter. She knew I was in town, since we stopped for a grinder, and last night she called me in a panic because Shanah wasn't breathing properly—one of her many health conditions. I went over to help and stayed until this morning."

"I see," I said, looking back down at my feet again and feeling like an idiot. "Sorry about getting snippy, then."

"On the contrary," Steven said as he lifted my chin with his finger. "I like it that you're interested." And with that he kissed me deep and long, then picked me up and put me in the matching wing chair across the room. "Now stay off your leg. I will clean this mess up. You can keep me company with your great charm and wit."

That made me laugh, and I did keep him company, with a minor interruption when I made a call to check on Gil, until about three a.m., when we both curled up on the long sofa in the room and fell asleep.

Over coffee the next morning, Steven and I discussed what we thought we'd seen in the woods. "I've seen all kinds of ghosts, phantoms, and things that go bump in the night, but that flash of gray wasn't one of those. I think it was human," I said flatly.

"You think some person was actually following us?"

"Could be."

We both puzzled on that for a bit, wondering what someone would be doing in the middle of the woods following the two of us. "But why are we so interesting?" I asked.

"That would depend on who's doing the following."

I continued to ponder the situation before saying, "Plus, after all that, we never did find where those orbs wanted to lead us."

"Odd how they disappeared the moment we heard someone behind us," Steven mused.

"Or maybe not," I said, looking pointedly at him. "Maybe wherever the orbs were leading us was for our eyes only."

"That's what I am thinking," Steven said. "But how do we get the orbs to come back and lead us to where they were taking us?"

"Maybe we can find it on our own," I said.

"You are thinking about the path in the woods?"

I nodded. "Yep, Toto, I think that's the yellow brick road. And if we really look at the starting point, I'll bet you ten bucks it's the same spot your grandfather walked to when we saw him from the upstairs window the other day."

"Okay, then," he said. "We'll go after the locksmith gets here."

"Say," I said, curious about something. "You spent lots of time here as a kid—you never noticed this path in the woods?"

Steven blushed slightly. "I never went near the woods," he admitted.

"What kid doesn't want to explore the woods?" I asked.

"The kind that nearly gets bitten by a coyote in the first week that he visits here," he said. "They were a real problem around here when I was young, and they are very scary-looking creatures."

I nodded. "I'm with you on that one," I said with a shudder. "And the noise they make—is that awful or what?"

"It can be quite frightening," Steven said. "But I haven't seen one around since we got here, so maybe they're not as much of a problem as before."

"Let's hope so. Anyway, I'd like to check out that tunnel if we can," I said. "Once we get that door open, I don't think it's a good idea to let it close on us again without knowing where it leads."

Steven smiled. "Okay, have it your way. Creepy dark tunnel first, scary woods full of ugly coyotes second."

I giggled. "Your English is improving," I said.

"I am jigsaw with that," he quipped. I didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd gotten Gilley's "jiggy" mixed up with a puzzle.

We waited an hour for the locksmith to show, which allowed us enough time to shower, get dressed, and munch on some dry cereal. The doorbell finally rang around nine thirty, and an older gentleman with a patch on his shirt that read, MICKEY, was at the door. "You two call for a locksmith?" he asked.

"Come in," Steven said as he held the door wide.

Mickey entered and took in the large hall. He let out a low whistle of appreciation and said, "This is some place you got here, Dr. Sable."

"Thank you," Steven said. "The door we need help with is this way," he called as he led Mickey through the hallway to the kitchen and down the steps to the cellar.

I followed dutifully behind, watching the stairs as I went down, when I nearly crashed into Mickey because the front of the line had halted. "What's up?" I asked Steven, who was holding up the line.

Mickey said, "Doesn't look like you'll need a locksmith after all."

I poked my head around Mickey and saw what the holdup was. The door to the tunnel was wide open.

"Mickey," Steven said, turning to the locksmith but giving me a look. "I need you to change the lock on this door. And I'll want an extra key."

"No problem," Mickey said, and moved around Steven to get to work.

I came down the last few steps to stand next to him and said, "You know, I'd really like to know where this tunnel ends."

Steven nodded. "Me too. When he's done, I think we should go in."

"Works for me."

We waited for the locksmith to complete the switch on the lock, and Steven paid him, then showed him out. While he and Mickey headed up the stairs, I took the liberty of venturing into the tunnel a bit, but it was too dark for me to go more than a few feet. Trooping upstairs, I grabbed the flashlight and my night-vision camera and went back down. Steven joined me a moment later. "You ready?" he asked me.

"Yes. Here, you keep the flashlight, but don't turn it on. We'll find our way through the viewfinder of this," I said, holding up the camera. "It should pick up any weird spectral stuff that we wouldn't be able to see with the flashlight on."

"Got it," Steven said, and together we proceeded into the tunnel, each of us keeping a hand on the wall to help guide us. We'd walked about five or six yards when I heard dripping. Pointing the camera up, I noticed what looked like several beads of water coming off the ceiling.

"Steven, click the flashlight on a sec and point it up there," I directed, my voice echoing through the tunnel. He did, and what we saw made us both gulp. "We're under the pool," I said nervously.

Steven reached up and touched one of the spots as he considered my question. "Yes," he agreed as he traced not just one crack but several as they snaked their way across the ceiling of the tunnel. As he checked the largest cluster of cracks in the middle of the ceiling to make sure we were fairly safe before heading in farther, I noticed a black box taped to the corner of the ceiling with a wire coming from it. Thinking it must be some sort of electrical box, I was grateful it didn't appear to be connected to anything currently conducting electricity. It would be scary to have a live wire down here with so much water.

"This is not good," Steven said as he pointed the beam at the ceiling.

"How bad is it?" I asked as alarm bells went off in my head.

"Bad enough for me to say that I think we should find out what's at the end of this thing, then get out of here and close that door for good."

"Do you think it's safe enough even for that?"

Steven knocked on the ceiling with his fist. No additional water leaked out. "I think it will hold long enough. These cracks aren't good, but I don't think they're going to give way soon. Let's keep going, but make it quick."

Steven clicked off the flashlight and I held up the viewfinder again as we went on. At one point the tight space came to a sharp corner that was impossible to see around. Steven hesitated as he got to the turn and surprised me by gripping my shoulder tightly.

"What?" I asked turning the viewfinder on him so I could see him. He moved his finger to his lips and made a shushing sound; then he cupped a hand to his ear, letting me know he'd heard something. I kept my mouth shut and listened hard, and sure enough we could hear distinct footsteps from around the corner.

I looked back up at Steven, his eyes wide as he determined what the noise was. Leaning forward he whispered in my ear, "We're not alone down here."

I nodded and whispered back, "I can't sense who it is."

"No?"

"No. I'm reaching out with my antennae, but I'm not hitting any kind of spirit energy."

"Maybe it's not a spirit," he whispered back. There was a pause between us, and I blinked in the dark, unable to see anything unless I held up the viewfinder. That gave me an idea, and I whispered to Steven, "We can point the camera around the corner and look through the viewfinder. Hopefully whoever is there won't be too far out of camera range and we'll be able to see who it is."