A Ghost at Stallion's Gate (3 page)

I held up the keys and said, “And I’ve got the keys to the mansion.” I stepped up to the front door, Gracie was right behind me. I unlocked the door and stepped aside, “Go on
in.”

Gracie bounced into the foyer and continued right on into the first of the grand halls. I hastily closed the front door and caught up with her. She stood in a posture I recognized all to well. She was gawking.

“Oh my.”

“It is impressive, to say the least.” I walked over to a card table that the work crew had set up for me. I sat in one of the unfolded chairs. “Maybe we could get started discussing the photo concept for the brochure?”

“Oh sure.” Gracie walked over and sat down and took out some files from her portfolio. “I went over lots of old photos of this place and brought a few to show you. You know, just in case we wanted to duplicate a look or do a montage that contrasted the past to the present.” She handed to me a stack of large photos. Had I not known better, I would have mistaken them for photos from a film archive of movie stills.

“These are intriguing. It almost looks as if they were taken for a magazine feature article or a social report in a local newspaper. Did the Pasadena Conservancy give these to you?”

“No.” She shook her head sideways. “No way would they do that.” Gracie giggled ever so lightly; as if what I asked was a private joke. “I dug these up myself, and this stack, right here, they’re copies for you. If you want them.”

“Thanks, I definitely want them.” I spread them out the best I could on the small table. I glanced up at Gracie, “Gracie, I’m new to this area. In fact, I’m up here from San Diego and I’ve been there less than a year. I came out from Chicago. So, not being familiar with this area, may I ask, what do you mean about the Pasadena Conservancy?”

Gracie hesitated for a moment and then said, “Oh, well, what I mean is they, uh, they want to put a whole new spin on this mansion. And, well, between just us two, they might not like us digging too deeply into its history. It’s supposed to be haunted, and all that.” She smiled a type of grin that was meant to diffuse her awkward slip of information.

“Oh,” I nodded in agreement. I could see that Gracie was a fountain of information and far be it for me to discourage her enthusiasm for sharing her knowledge. “So, you’re from this area?” I queried.

“Oh, yeah. My whole life. I grew up right here in Pasadena. I went to college at the University of California in Los Angeles. They have a great film and photography art department. Can’t help but to appreciate the old films and all of old Hollywood when you grow up right here where it all happened.”

“I see. What is it that fascinates you about this place?”

Gracie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, everything. It was quite the party place in the 1920s. And the nephew of the owner, Reggie Coover, well, he was a real playboy and a party animal and business tycoon. Everything that wasn’t supposed to happen in that time because of Prohibition, well it happened right here, under this roof.” She grabbed her portfolio and rummaged around in it. “Here.” She handed me a rolled wad of paper. “I photocopied old newspaper articles about him and made copies for you.”

I looked down at the roll of articles, tidily held together with rubber bands. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to read over all of this tonight.” I looked at her and smiled and for a moment I felt like Nancy Drew, on the cusp of discovering a mystery with my new best friend. “Can I do a favor for you, in return?” I was thinking professionally, a letter of recommendation, a career reference, or some such professional courtesy. But her request took me by surprise. Total surprise.

“Yes.” Again, Gracie reached into her portfolio and brought out another piece of paper to the surface. Unfolding a full page of newspaper, she held it up for me to see. It was a feature article from three months ago. The article was about Stallion’s Gate with an interview of Zach and photos of him explaining the process of retrofitting the mansion. Gracie explained, “Since the tragedy, I understand that Mr. Zavala’s cousin, Joshua Zavala, has taken over the company. Please, could you introduce me to Joshua Zavala?”

I scrambled to gain composure. “Oh, sure,” I said as casually as possible. “I’ll be glad to introduce you. In fact, Mr. Zavala should be here any moment and I’ll ask him to give you a tour of the place.” I reached into my pocket and took out a slip of  paper. “Actually, I jotted down a few areas of the mansion and on the estate that I would like photos of. How about I give this list to you and when Mr. Zavala comes in, he can take you around to these photo spots?”

Gracie snatched the list. “This is perfect. When do you think he’ll be here?”

At that very moment I heard footsteps in the foyer, “I’d say right now.” I turned to look in that direction and there he was. Zach, in all his guy next door handsome charm, walked toward us and stood within arm’s reach of Gracie Jordan. I smiled at him and thought to myself, poor thing, he has not a clue about what he has just walked into.

“Shannon, miss,” Zach said and looked at me.

But before I could introduce Zach to Gracie, Gracie stood up and faced him.

“Hi, I’m Gracie, the photographer. Shannon gave me a list of places I am to photograph and she said you’ll take me around to them.” Gracie bubbled with enthusiasm, no doubt because she would have Zach to herself. She snatched up her camera and took Zach by the hand. “I’m ready,” she announced.

Zach never stood a chance. They walked off together and the last I saw as they turned the corner to go outside was Zach looking back at me with a glazed expression on his face. I smiled, knowing I would hear all about the ambush later tonight over dinner. But for now, I had the silence of the grand hall to myself and I was dying to look at the bundle of papers Gracie had given me.

Nearly an hour had passed and I was deep into reading the outlandish stories written about Reggie Coover in local newspaper gossip columns from the 1920s when I heard an odd noise. I set down the papers and sat perfectly still, listening. There it was again, a muffled and rhythmic clop, clop, clop, clop sound.

I got up and walked over to the fireplace, wondering if a bird or another kind of creature was caught up in the chimney. I knelt down and leaned forward, no sound. I stood up and faced the mantle, closed my eyes and strained to hear the sound again.

Clop. Clop. Clop. Clop.

Good grief, it was as if the sound was immediately behind me. I turned and was shocked to see that what was making the odd noise was all too apparent and far too close for comfort. And it was looking down at me.

Chapter 5

I looked around for a place to run to. I dashed a few steps to the side and the room’s atmosphere shifted, causing a rift in the ground.  I tripped over my own two feet, crashing to my knees. The thing was hanging over me. I dared to glance up, discovering that all the color in the room had faded away into a sepia world.

“Grab hold,” it commanded.

I reached up and felt the slender cold strips of leather. I grabbed them and was lifted to standing height. Now I was right next to it and it was the only thing in the room that was infused with color, shiny redwood auburn. The soft liquid brown eyes flickered in nervousness.

“I’m a horse of a different color.”

“And you’re huge, too,” I commented.

“Release my bridle.”

I let my fingers unwind from the leather straps and tried to relax my arms at my side. “Where would I have fallen to?”

The horse shook its head back and forth in a nervous twitch and whispered “Bad.”

Not knowing how far I could stray from the hero horse, I stepped back a foot, just so I could take in the full figure of the horse. It was as I suspected. The ghost was the same horse in the trophy room that was hitched to the carriage. It was the gentle giant of the horse world, a Clydesdale.

“How close must I stand next to you to be safe?” I asked.

“Bridle reach.”

I stepped another foot back and raised my arms to judge the distance. I relaxed and exhaled. I was in a safe distance. “I’m Shannon.”

“I know. I’m Rory.”

“You were expecting me?” A queasy feeling in my gut told me the answer.

Rory nodded his head up and down, twice. “Twice means yes.”

“Okay. Rory, what do you mean, saying you are a horse of a different color?”

“Too red.”

I took a really good look at him and noticed that he was an atypical shade of auburn with brilliant red highlights. Coloring the likes of which I had never seen on a horse. Course, I hadn’t been so close to a Clydesdale before. His blaze and stockings were blinding white. Was the stark contrast due to the bland sepia world surrounding us?

I looked around. I was still in the exact spot I was before, in the grand hall a few feet from the fireplace. Rory and I were standing in an oval of illumination, fully colored, fully fleshed out. All that was outside the illumination was drab and nearly colorless.

Rory made a soft snuffing sound and it broke the focus of my bewilderment. I looked up at him. His eyes were bright, knowing and intelligent. The rapport was instant. A slight quiver ran over his face, his nostrils flared.

“Running,” Rory said.

“Running where?” I asked.

“Out of time,” he replied in a short whinny. Rory was getting nervous.

I placed my right palm near his left ear. “Tell me Rory, what can I do?”

“Once is no.” He nodded his head side to side one time.

“Okay, I understand that when you nod your head sideways only once, you mean no. And when you nod your head up and down twice, you mean yes.”

He whinnied softly, and I understood this meant his approval. Rory lifted his right front hoof and clicked it twice on the floor. Two loud claps sounded. “Means stay.”

Then he lifted his left front hoof, and clapped three times in rapid succession. “Means go. Go fast.”

I repeated his commands. Again, he whinnied softly.

I turned to face his head and placed my right hand on the side of his bridle. “Rory, what can I do for you?”

I did not expect his response.

Rory’s eyes welled up with tears. One large teardrop trickled down from his right eye. “We were loved.”

Ever so gently I wiped away the tear. “I’m sure you were, all of you.” I tried to smile, but couldn’t help but to let a few tears of my own trickle down my cheeks. I wiped them away. “Rory, all of you were loved. Why are you so sad?” I asked.

“All in one. One in all.”

“Okay.” That puzzled me, but I wasn’t about to interrupt and question the logic of a ghost horse. “And?” I baited.

“No pasture.”

“Oh, Rory. I’m so sorry. How can I help you find the pasture?”

“One in all. All in one. Go now. Go now. Fast.” Rory was nervous. His eyes flinched and a ripple of sweat trickled down his neck. Without warning he clapped his left front hoof three times. And before I could lift my hand from his face, Rory vanished under my touch.

With my hand held up petting air, is how Zach found me.

Chapter 6

Thankfully, Zach was alone.

“Uh, Shannon, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to wipe away a spider web. I walked over this way and felt it in my hair.” I batted at the air in dramatic display. “Okay, I’m pretty sure it’s gone.”

Zach stood beside me and looked up. “Well, I wouldn’t bet on it. This part of the ceiling is twenty feet high, at least. Where’s there’s one spider web, more are sure to be in a space this large and accommodating.”

“Zach, what do you mean, accommodating?”

He gave me the oddest look and then explained, “All the textured plaster and exposed half timbers, spiders have a lot to grab onto and spin their webs from. It’d take a lot of extermination to ever get rid of them.”

“And does the Pasadena Conservancy plan on doing that?”

“Yeah, but not until we’re finished with the construction and retrofitting. So for now, be watchful, okay?”

I looked at Zach, and wondered if he really bought my explanation. I hoped so. I wasn’t ready to disclose my discovery to him, or anyone else. Attempting to change the topic I asked, “How did it go with the bouncy Miss Jordan?”

Zach’s deep blush was palatable. “I wish you hadn’t done that.” He shook his head sideways and grinned. “You know, it was my lucky day, because a guy that Gracie went to college with is one of my employees, his name is Jared. Evidently he and Gracie used to date. As soon as we got into the backyard, near the rose garden, Jared showed up and I begged off.”

I laughed and said, “Gracie really had her heart set on a Zavala man. How did you manage that switch?”

“Well, you’ll have to meet Jared to understand. Let’s just say he’s available and willing. I left them strolling about the rose garden discussing the wild parties that went on here in the 1920s. There’s enough of a spark left from their college dating years to get a fire going.”

I nodded and smiled. “Most excellent match I’d say. And if it makes Gracie happy, then I don’t have to worry about losing her to jealousy over you.”

“Huh? What do you mean, losing her?”

“Gracie is a phenomenal source of information regarding the history of Stallion’s gate, the Coovers, and Pasadena, in general. I have a gut feeling that there is a mystery lurking about and we will need her to get to the facts of the matter.”