Tymber Dalton (41 page)

An image came to mind, the iron bed frame in the master bedroom, not battered and in need of a coat of paint, but shiny and new, with a woman tied, spread-eagle, to the posts…

No!

“Steve, you okay?” Sami looked concerned.

He swallowed. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m more tired than I thought.”

She studied him for a moment, looked like she was about to say something, when Matt bounded down the stairs.

“There’s something in the attic. We were standing there, and a ball bounced and rolled over to us.” He searched through the equipment. “Julie needs the FLIR, an EMF meter, and a voice recorder.”

As if Sami knew what he was talking about, she helped him find the items and followed him up the stairs.

Steve watched them go.

There was something else going on.

You know what’s going on. That woman’s been here before!

Steve willed the voice to shut up and carefully climbed the stairs.

* * * *

Matt heard Sami on his heels. When he reached the top of the attic stairs, he spotted Julie sitting on the window seat in the turret, staring out at the drizzle.

“Here you go,” he said.

She didn’t respond at first, then turned to look at him and Sami, who now stood behind him with the EMF meter.

“Hello,” Julie said. She wore an odd expression.

Matt and Sami exchanged puzzled looks. “Here’s the equipment,” he said.

Julie frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

Sami gasped. “Julie has left the building.”

Matt realized what she meant. “Evelyn?” Matt hesitantly asked.

Julie nodded. She’d even pulled her hair back into a twist held in place with a ball-point pen.

They heard Steve on the attic stairs behind them, and Julie fainted, slumping against the wall.

Matt shoved the camera into Sami’s hands and rushed to Julie’s side. “Julie, you okay?”

Steve appeared in time to see Matt sit next to Julie, his arm around her, supporting her, trying to wake her.

“Sam, go get a wet washcloth,” Matt said. She carefully put the equipment down and pushed past Steve.

Steve stepped forward. “She okay?” Matt thought Steve’s voice sounded unusually flat. When he looked up, he spotted a reddish glow in his friend’s eyes.

Matt was about to say something when Sami thundered up the steps, washcloth in hand. The noise startled Steve. He closed his eyes, shook his head, looked at Matt. “Dude, is she okay?”

Matt swallowed, hard, and nodded, taking the washcloth from Sami. “Yeah, she just fainted, I think.”

Julie came around, apologizing. “I’m sorry. I was in such a rush this morning, I didn’t eat anything. My blood sugar probably took a dive. Can I trouble you for some toast or something?”

“Sure, I’ll get it,” Sami said, off in a flash.

Steve looked around the attic. “Matt said you saw something?”

Matt looked at Julie, who now sat unassisted.

She studied Steve. “Yes. That ball on the floor, it came rolling toward us. I’m so stupid. I should have had equipment with me.”

Steve walked over to the ball and looked at it, not touching it. “You think the house is haunted?”

Julie looked like she wanted to bolt from the attic, but was trying to stay calm. “Yes, I do.”

She stood and picked up the FLIR. “This is a thermal imaging camera. It can pick up heat and cold sources not visible to the naked eye. It’s sometimes possible to capture activity.” She scanned the attic, and looked like she forced herself to stand near enough so Steve could see the screen.

Matt didn’t want to be around Steve, but he didn’t want to leave Julie alone with him. There was no way in hell he’d leave either woman alone with Steve now.

Sami returned a few minutes later with a cheese sandwich and a glass of orange juice. “Here, eat this.”

“Thank you.” Julie sat on the window seat and quickly finished it. “I feel much better now.”

Matt tried his hand with the camera. Steve aimlessly wandered the attic, looking at some of the junk pushed off to the side.

“Steve, please take it easy,” Sami reminded him. “Remember your stitches.”

“I’m fine.” He sounded distant, aloof. “So, is there something up here?”

Julie nodded. “I would say yes. Just because we didn’t catch it on camera doesn’t mean it’s not here. These things can come and go, sometimes playing like a loop. Might not even know we’re here.”

Julie looked out the turret window. It had not only stopped raining, but looked like the sun was trying to break through. “Hey, since it’s cleared a little, how about we go to the cemetery? Might be the only chance we get for a few days with all this rain.”

Matt jumped at the opportunity. “That’s a great idea. We can walk.”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll pass. I don’t feel up for a walk. Sami, you go ahead. I’ll be okay.”

“If you’re sure?”

He nodded. “I’m going to keep the couch from floating away.” He noted their puzzled looks. “It’s a joke.”

Matt couldn’t wait to leave the house. He helped Julie carry a few items and they followed Sami down the path.

“Okay, what the hell was that all about?” Matt asked Julie.

Julie shook her head. “I don’t know. I was standing there looking at the ball, waiting for you to come back, and next thing I know, I’m sitting there and y’all are trying to wake me up. What happened?”

“It wasn’t your blood sugar. You were Evelyn,” Sami said.

Julie stopped. Matt, bringing up the rear, nearly walked into her. “What?”

“You talked to us like you were Evelyn,” Sami explained.

They continued, rounded a turn in the trail, and were out of sight of the house when Julie stopped them. “Okay, tell me exactly what happened, every detail.”

Sami told her what Julie had said during her trance.

“That’s not all,” Matt said. “Sam, while you were downstairs, Steve asked how she was.”

“So?”

“His voice sounded strange, and his eyes were glowing red.”

Julie staggered back, grabbing a nearby tree for support. “Oh no. Have you noticed anything else different today?”

Matt and Sami looked at each other and shook their heads.

“We need to get to that cemetery. Now.”

Julie dumped her bag at the edge of the clearing and handed out items and instructions. As Sami and Matt jumped to work, Julie took out a hand-drawn map and paced off distances from George Simpson’s marker.

“This”—she pointed where one wooden marker had nearly rotted away—“is Ben Caleb.” She knelt down and sprinkled some herbs and oil around the site, muttering. When she finished she moved to another rotted marker. “This is my great-grandfather.” She closed her eyes for a moment, silently mouthing a prayer. Then she knelt and repeated the ritual.

Julie performed a slightly different ritual over George Simpson’s grave. She sighed when she finished. “His energy isn’t here. Not at all.”

“In plain English?” Matt asked.

“It means he may be at the well, or back at the house, or anywhere, for that matter. From what you told me, I would suspect he’s latched onto Steve again.”

“But he’s been acting normal,” Sami protested.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Julie explained. “And it doesn’t mean I’m right, either. He might have gone on elsewhere, and Steve’s fine.”

Matt shook his head. “Not from what I saw.”

“You may be right.” She circled George Simpson’s grave, spiraling out in increasing circles, dodging saplings and the other markers. She stopped and took her bearings. “This is Peter Michaels’s grave.”

“How can you tell?”

She held up the paper. “It was unmarked, but it’s in the right spot according to the records I found. Plus, it feels right. If you’ll look, there’s a slight indentation where the ground sunk in when his coffin rotted.”

She was right. Even with the cushion of pine needles, they made out the distinct shape.

Sami found a rock off to the side of the clearing that wasn’t part of one of the cairns. “He needs something.” She set it at one end of the depression.

Julie nodded and performed another ritual over the grave. When she finished, she flipped the paper over and went to one of the cairns and started pacing off distances. She retrieved a silk pouch from the pile of items and used the contents to create a circle around an area.

“Don’t cross the circle,” she warned them, leaving a small, open section. “Come through this way.” They obeyed.

Sami felt the chill in the air. “What do we do now?”

“Repeat what I tell you to say, and do what I tell you to do.” She shoved the paper in her pocket and grabbed a few more items from the pile. Once inside the circle, she closed it.

The ritual took twenty minutes. Most of it was in English, and didn’t sound too different from the house cleansing ritual. Some of it was in a singsong language Sami suspected might be Gaelic. At times Julie asked Sami and Matt to sprinkle the contents of something they held, or repeat a part of the ritual.

At the end, Julie took the contents of one last pouch and sprinkled the herbs into the dirt at the center of the circle, mixing the dirt and herbs and some drier leaves and grasses. She lit the small pile with a match.

“I ask all souls and energies still trapped here to release, to leave, to continue their journey. We hear your cries, and beg your understanding. We ask only positive energies with the best interests of this place remain, to protect, to heal, to bless. So we ask it, so mote it be.” She heaped dirt on the small fire, putting it out. She mixed the ashes well, ensuring they would not reignite. Not difficult considering how damp it was to begin with.

The wind suddenly picked up, swirling and howling around them. The leaves in the center of the circle danced, caught in a mini dust devil, which picked up and dispersed.

A beam of sunlight hit inside the cemetery, transforming the gloomy clearing into an almost cheery place.

Julie erased the circle. “You can move now.”

Sami and Matt were too stunned. Matt found his voice first. “What the hell was that?”

“Evelyn and her children.”

“They’re gone?”

Julie shrugged. “It’s like they say in the bars at closing time—you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Whether they chose to move on or go to the house or wherever, that’s up to them. I acknowledged their final resting place and gave them the permission they needed to move on, wherever that is.”

Julie packed her bag as if it what happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Where’s the well?”

* * * *

Steve wondered if he should take a Valium and lie down.

Maybe I should swallow the whole bottle
.
It would make Sami’s life easier.

He walked into the dining room and examined some of Julie’s equipment. Much of it looked very expensive. It was hard to reconcile high tech with the herbs and essential oils.

If Sami wanted to do it, what would it hurt? Especially if it helped her with her book. She deserved it. She was a good writer. It wasn’t fair she didn’t get as much recognition as he did. He just hit it lucky.

Steve noticed an appointment book next to one of the equipment bags. Out of curiosity he opened it. It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at, but the voice told him he was an idiot if he didn’t see the proof right in front of him.

He walked into the kitchen and considered the bottle of Valium, pushed behind his oral antibiotics and other medicines. It would be easy to swallow it all, maybe chased with the whiskey from the toilet.

Then the voice spoke from out of the darkness with other ideas.

* * * *

It threatened rain again, but they found the location in a few minutes. Matt studied the nearby trees. “We can loop the come-along cable around the base of one of them and drag the lid off sideways, I think. We won’t be able to lift it.”

Julie agreed. “Looks like it’ll slide off. Maybe not easily, but it should move.”

A low rumble of thunder sounded. They watched the clouds roll in again.

“I think we need to get back to the house,” Matt suggested, “or we’ll get soaked.”

They sprinted the last twenty yards. The sky opened up. From the safety of the porch they watched the wind whip, thrashing the tops of the slash pines, horizontal sheets of rain blowing and quickly filling depressions in the yard with water.

“I’m glad I left the barn open,” Sami said. The horses were nowhere to be seen. They were smart enough to seek shelter inside.

They stomped the caked mud off their shoes and entered the living room. Pog still lay curled on the window seat and looking miserable.

Steve watched the noon news on a Tampa station. “I was about to call you. There’s a feeder band coming through. They issued a tornado watch for the area.”