Chapter 6
Raven
"You called your brothers here but didn't tell them anything?" I stared at Shane as he checked his watch for the tenth time. "They don't even know why they're coming?"
"I told them I needed them. That's enough." His jaw was tight with tension. "They'll come."
"Shane, they're going to walk in here blind. No idea about Walt, about me, about what we're doing."
"I know." He ran a hand through his black hair, making it stand up in spikes. "I couldn't explain over the radio. Walt might have heard."
Walt had been increasingly agitated all morning, confused about why we were "preparing for a corporate inspection" on Halloween night.
In his fractured timeline, Halloween meant the lodge's annual costume ball, and he'd been fretting about decorations and candy for the children who would never come.
He'd spent the morning polishing tarnished doorknobs and straightening crooked picture frames, humming Christmas carols with that eerie harmonic undertone my equipment kept picking up.
"You sure about this?" I asked.
"No." His silver eyes met mine, and I saw real fear there. Not of ghosts or abandoned buildings, but of his brothers' judgment. "But after last night's episode, I need their help. Walt's getting worse."
The sound of large trucks approaching made me peer out a broken window.
“Here they come,” Shane said as three huge men climbed out of their trucks and then went around the passengers’ side and helped presumably their wives down. Shane had given me the barest descriptions of everyone, and I still wasn’t sure I had everyone’s name straight.
The first man to come in had to be Kevin.
He had Shane's height but broader shoulders, with dark hair and wary eyes.
Behind him, an absolute giant of a man ducked through the doorway.
Six-foot-six at least, with gentle eyes that contrasted sharply with his intimidating size.
Neil, the furniture maker. His scarred hands and careful movements confirmed it.
The third brother vibrated with barely contained energy, shorter than the others but coiled like a spring. Sam's eyes were already exploring the abandoned lodge that we made into a home over the last week.
But it was the women who really caught my attention.
The one attached to Kevin's side was unexpected—a polished city woman in designer boots that were completely impractical for the mountain. She looked as out of place as I'd felt that first day, but the way Kevin's hand rested possessively on her lower back suggested she belonged here now.
Neil's woman was tiny, maybe five feet, with intelligent eyes behind thick-framed glasses and an expression of academic curiosity as she examined the lodge's architecture. She looked like she should be in a library, not standing next to a man who could break her in half with one hand.
Sam's partner surprised me most. Professional blazer over hiking gear, sharp eyes that missed nothing, the kind of put-together appearance that screamed lawyer or executive. She was already photographing the lobby with her phone, documenting everything with an efficiency I recognized.
"What the hell is going on here?" Kevin asked.
"Inside. All of you. And keep your voices down." Shane's tone brooked no argument.
Once they were all in, Kevin's gaze landed on me. "Who is she?"
"This is Raven. She's been helping me with something." Shane's arm came around me, holding me against his side. "She's with me."
The declaration was possessive, final. His brothers exchanged glances I couldn't read.
"Helping you with what?" The giant one—Neil—asked in a surprisingly gentle voice.
Shane took a breath. "There's someone living here. An elderly man with dementia named Walt Harrison. He was the maintenance supervisor when the lodge was operational. He never really left after the fire burned down the place."
Dead silence.
Then everyone talking at once.
"What the fuck—"
"Two years?"
"Is that legal?"
"Why didn't you tell us?"
Shane held up his hand. "Let me explain. Please."
So he did. Finding Walt when he bought the property. The old man's complete break from reality, living in 1993 in his mind. The suicide attempt when Shane tried to get him into a facility. The decision to care for him here, alone.
"Two years?" Sam said, frowning. “And you never mentioned this to us.”
“I think Tonya’s grandmother took care of him before she died.”
“Oh,” Tonya said, her brow furrowed.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Kevin said. “Mary took care of a lot of people.”
"I NEED YOUR HELP." The words seemed to physically hurt Shane to say. "I've been managing the situation, but I can't do it alone anymore."
"You've been coming here every day for two years to care for a confused elderly man, and you never said anything?" Neil sounded hurt by this.
"You would have insisted on a facility," Shane said.
"Of course we would have," Sam said. "That's the logical thing to do."
"Shane?" Walt's voice carried from the dining room. "Are the corporate inspectors here? I heard vehicles."
Everyone froze as Walt appeared in the doorway, wearing his faded maintenance uniform, clipboard in hand. His weathered face was creased with worry.
"Mr. Harrison," Shane said gently. "Yes, the inspectors are here. These are my colleagues. They're helping with the evaluation."
Walt's face brightened. He turned to Kevin with professional pride.
"Welcome to Wildfire Ridge. I'm Walt Harrison, head of maintenance.
I've been getting everything ready for your inspection.
The heating system is running perfectly, and I've prepared a full report on our preparations for the holiday season. "
Kevin looked at Shane, then back at Walt. Shane gave him a meaningful look and Kevin caught on.
"Thank you, Mr. Harrison," Kevin said formally. "We appreciate your dedication. Perhaps you could show us the main systems?"
"Of course, of course!" Walt beamed. "Right this way. Mind the third step—it's been creaky since that big storm last year."
“Last year?” Tonya said.
“1991 was a doozy for storms.”
“1991,” she said faintly.
As Walt led the Kevin and Tonya deeper into the lodge, chattering about occupancy rates and ski conditions from thirty years ago, I saw Shane's brothers exchange looks again. The hurt was still there, but understanding was beginning to dawn.
Kim, Neil's tiny wife, moved closer to Shane. "Walt Harrison. I've seen that name in the historical records I've been digitizing. He really never left after the fire?"
"Fire?" Jess, Sam’s wife, asked. "What fire?"
"1995. Two employees died. The lodge was destroyed." I waved my hand around the place.
“And who are you again?” Jess asked.
I blew out a breath. “I’m Raven Duggan.”
“The YouTuber,” Kim said, snapping her fingers. “I thought I recognized you.”
“The what?” Jess said.
“Dark Places, Deep Secrets. I do an urbex podcast and videos.”
“You’re filming here?” Jess asked.
I nodded. “With Shane’s permission.”
“He gave permission?” Kim asked.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“I bet.” Now, it was Jess and Kim’s turn to exchange looks.
"She mine," Shane said, pulling me closer.
Now they all were grinning at us. I tried not to die from embarrassment.
"I came to film the abandoned lodge. Shane caught me trespassing. But when I met Walt..." I shrugged. "Plans changed."
"She's been helping me care for him," Shane said. "She has experience with dementia patients."
"My grandmother," I explained.
"So what's with all the equipment?" Sam gestured to my cameras and EMF detectors scattered around the lobby.
I looked at Shane, who nodded. "I'm documenting the lodge for my channel. But more than that, I've been capturing unexplained phenomena. Temperature anomalies that follow Walt. Electromagnetic spikes with no source. Audio frequencies that shouldn't exist."
“You’re serious?” Kim said with a confused smile on her face. “Shane are you sure Walt’s not the only one who...” She made a twirling finger by her temple.
I shook my head. “I know how it sounds.”
“This is all just for content, right?” Jess said.
“No,” Shane said. “There’s something up about the night of the fire.
I don’t know if it’s all in Walt’s head or if there are two ghosts hanging around.
All I know is Walt is tortured by that night.
And the anniversary of the fire is in three days.
I’m desperate. I’m willing to try anything at this point. ”
“I’m not going to post anything about Walt. I’ve come to care about him.”
"Yeah,” Shane said. “She's been incredible with him. Plays along with his timeline, helps with his care. She's—" He stopped, struggling for words.
"She's the best seasonal hire we've had in years," Walt said, returning with Kevin and Tonya who still looked a little shell shocked. "But Miss Raven, you should be getting ready for tonight. The Halloween ball starts at seven. You can't work the candy station in your regular uniform."
"You're right, Mr. Harrison," I said. "I'll change soon."
"Good, good. Such a dedicated employee. Best seasonal worker we've hired in years." He patted my shoulder. "Though you work too many hours. Young people should enjoy Halloween, not spend it all working."
As Walt wandered off to check on imaginary preparations
"This is insane," Kevin said, but his tone had shifted from angry to concerned. "His medical care—"
"I'm managing his diabetes, heart medication, blood pressure, and dementia symptoms," Shane rattled off. "I've got IV supplies for emergencies, all his prescriptions, regular monitoring. I'm a paramedic, Kevin. I know what I'm doing."
"Medically, maybe," Tonya said. "But legally? Financially?”
"I know,” Shane said tiredly. "Why do you think I finally called you? Last night he had an episode. He thought the lodge was burning down again. His blood pressure hit dangerous levels. I realized if something happens to him, or to me, he's got nobody."
"He's got us now, too" Neil said simply.
"So what's the plan?" Kevin asked, already shifting into problem-solving mode. "Long-term. We can't leave him here indefinitely."
"For now, we keep him stable and safe," Shane said. "His condition is deteriorating. The anniversary of the fire is in three days—November third. His episodes always gets worse around then."
"Which might explain why the activity is increasing," Sam said. "Anniversary hauntings are well documented in paranormal research."
"You believe in this?" Neil asked his brother.
"I believe in keeping an open mind. Plus, this is the most interesting thing we've done in months."
"But what happens after?" Kevin pressed. "When this anniversary passes? Winter's coming. You can't keep him in an unheated lodge."
"I have a generator for the worst nights. And I tell him the lodge is closed for maintenance and bring him to my cabin when it’s really bad."
"That's not sustainable," Kevin said firmly but not unkindly. "Shane, what's the real plan here?"
Shane's jaw clenched. "I don't know. I've been taking it day by day for two years."
“Do you think this ghostbusting thing is going to help?” Sam asked.
“The what now?” Kevin turned to him.
After bringing Tonya and Kevin up to speed, we all sat down in a circle with the chairs we scavenged from other rooms.
"Walt talks about Rebecca and Jimmy constantly,” I said. “He carries enormous guilt about their deaths. If there's even a chance they're here, trying to communicate, don't we owe it to them to listen?"
"Who are they? I’ve never heard of them.”
"Walt believes they were the two people who died in the fire, and that the owner—a Mr. Carlson—had the fire set for the insurance money. Walt said Rebecca discovered the plan and she and Jimmy died that night trying to find proof."
"And now they're haunting the place?" Neil asked.
"Or it's wind and old building noises," I admitted. "But my equipment's picking up something."
"Plus, her subscribers will go absolutely batshit for authentic ghost hunting content with actual paranormal activity," Sam added cynically.
"I won’t let this place become an urbex must see sight and I won’t put Walt at risk," I said.
"So we're doing this?" Tonya asked. "We're actually ghost hunting on Halloween?"
"That’s what we’re here for, right Shane?” Kevin asked.
“Yeah, among other things,” he admitted.
“I’m glad you finally asked for help,” Sam said.
“And if there are really ghosts here, we find out what they want," Kevin said.
"And if there aren't?" Neil asked.
"Then we still gave Walt's memories the respect they deserve," Kim said. "We still honored Rebecca and Jimmy, even if they're not here."
A crash from below made us all jump. Then Walt's voice, confused but cheerful called out, "The wine cellar seems to have been reorganized. But don't worry, I found the '92 Cabernet. Perfect for the inspectors."
Shane sighed. "I'll go help him. Can you guys help Raven with whatever she needs to set up equipment?"
"You're good for him," Tonya said, moving to stand beside me. "I've never seen Shane let anyone in like this."
"He didn't exactly have a choice. I was trespassing."
"He had choices. He chose to trust you." She studied me with eyes that missed nothing. "That's not something Shane does lightly. Or ever, really."
"The foster system fucked all of us up in different ways," Sam said. "But Shane got the worst of it. The fact that he called us, that he's accepting help is huge."
"The fact that he's claimed you as his to us is even bigger," Kim added. "These men don't do anything halfway. When they commit, it's completely."
"I noticed," I said, warmth flooding me at the memory of Shane's possessive declaration.
As we prepared for the investigation, setting up equipment and planning routes through the lodge, I felt something I hadn't experienced in years. Not since Gran had died and left me alone.
I felt like I belonged.
Even if we found nothing tonight, even if the ghosts were just wind and memories, I'd found something more valuable than content for my channel.
I'd found a family as weird and broken and fiercely protective as the man I was falling in love with.