Chapter Thirteen
Lakeview Hospital is a little under thirty minutes from East Mill. On the drive there, we talk about the Western house and Jason’s interest in it.
‘It’s hardly a cottage!’
‘That’s what they called them. They were mostly summer residences owned by wealthy families who lived in New York City and came out here to vacation.
Nothing much has changed, really. I’d love to have a closer look at it.
My brother and I help plan restorations and extensions on historic properties, protecting the historical integrity of the building.
I should leave my card; we could help with the restoration of that window you two broke. ’
‘You know you can’t go in there, right?’
‘Cal said not until you’ve cleared it. How does that work by the way? Do you see spirits everywhere?’
‘I can block them most of the time. I’m not sure how it works exactly, but I’ve met psychics with other skills who do a similar thing.’
‘What kind of skills?’
‘Read minds. There’s a woman in the city I’ve met a couple of times who can do that.
Imagine how noisy that would be if you couldn’t zone everyone out.
For me, I focus on letting the spirits in and I focus on keeping them out.
It’s like I can open and close a part of my brain.
Like a muscle that I’ve built up and learnt to use.
But sometimes, if my focus is off, the ghosts slip through. ’
‘What kinds of things knock your focus off?’
I want to say, Lately, your friend . ‘If I’m tired or stressed or distracted. But also, sometimes their energy is so strong they break through my defences.’
‘What do they look like to you? Rotting skin, heads half hanging off and bloodied tattered clothes?’
I laugh. ‘No, thank goodness. They look human mostly, but their eyes have no light in them, and their skin shines as if they’re made of wax.
They’re not exactly transparent, but they don’t look quite solid either.
It’s hard to describe. They just look off.
Clothes-wise, they wear whatever they wore in life, I guess. ’
‘Well that’s disappointing,’ he says. I laugh again. ‘And you help these spirits with whatever they need?’
‘I move them on. I’m not sure if that helps them or not.’
‘Don’t they tell you what they want?’
‘No, they never speak to me, they just yell. No words, just noise. But even if I knew what they wanted, I’m not sure I’d care. I just want them gone. My theory is there’s life and there’s death, and there’s no in-between. When you die, your time here is done. Don’t be an asshole; move on.’
Jason laughs now. ‘That’s an interesting way of looking at things. Can any other psychics do what you do?’
‘Not that I’ve met so far. But there’s probably someone out there somewhere. I’d like to think so – it would be nice to know I’m not a total freak.’
‘You’re not a freak.’
‘You try going out to dinner and having me suddenly burst into Latin because some waiter who died two years ago still has a beef with the restaurant owner.’
‘That’s happened?’ I nod solemnly. ‘Shit. Well, it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that, Holly. I don’t find you freaky.’
‘You don’t know me.’
‘You’d be surprised. Cal’s told me quite a bit about you.’
I cluck my tongue at his knowing grin and arched brows.
‘Did he show you the plans of the house?’ I ask, moving the conversation off me yet again.
‘I had a quick look over them.’
‘Did he ask you about… a cellar?’ Why does my voice sound so small all of a sudden?
‘Yep. The drawings of the OG house definitely show something that looks to be a cellar, probably a root cellar. They became more popular from the mid-1600s onwards. It looks separate from the house because it would have had an exterior entry on the grounds outside the building. The drawings don’t state what it is, so I can’t give you a definite, but my guess would be that yes, the original house had some form of cellar. ’
‘That people could stand up in?’
He looks confused. ‘I mean, sure. People stored vegetables and grain in root cellars, and even butchered animals – they were pretty roomy. I doubt it’s still there, though.
The plans of the current house are far more detailed and don’t show one.
The staff quarters cover that area now, so I’d say the old cellar was likely filled in before the current house was built. Does that help at all?’
‘I think so.’
That should mean whatever was going on in my first dream, can’t be connected to the haunting at the current house. So maybe it was just a dream. One of the knots in my stomach releases.
As we travel along the highway, beaches roll past. Spectacular homes rise above the sand, their winding driveways guarded by electronic gates and their grey-shingled roofs blending into the ocean beyond.
On the other side of the highway is forest – dense and brushy, a wild explosion of gold and crimson, the ground carpeted in leaves.
Jason tells me more about his work and his family, his brother and his niece.
Listening to him chatting away, I understand why Callum has been friends with him for so long.
He has the same easy way about him that Callum does, and his life sounds so normal .
I can imagine Callum craving that, just like I did growing up. Still do.
Jason catches my eye and smiles. ‘Have we got a plan for when we get to the hospital?’
‘I called while you were sorting out the check at the cafe. The doctor said Richard probably won’t speak to me.’
‘Even though he knows you?’
‘I think he meant he literally won’t speak. He hasn’t said a word since the police brought him in.’
‘What makes you think he’ll talk now?’
‘It’s worth a shot. Richard’s been to the property, he may have even been inside the house. He might have information that could help us. Right now, we know far too little, and I don’t like that.’
Lakeview Hospital is a long red-brick building, tucked into a stand of pine trees at the end of a twisting driveway.
We check in at the gatehouse, then follow the signs to visitor parking.
When we arrive at the nurse’s station, I explain that I’m an old friend of Richard’s, and we’re shown into a brightly lit room with long barred windows overlooking a pristine lawn, a picturesque lake shimmering in the distance.
In the centre of that room, Richard Browling sits in a lounge chair, staring into space.
‘His wife visits once a week,’ the nurse says. ‘But he doesn’t even speak to her, so don’t expect much.’
‘We just want him to know there are people that care about him,’ I say. ‘Maybe he’ll hear us.’
The nurse looks over at Richard. ‘I hope so. We’ll be just outside if you need us.’
I squat beside Richard’s chair. His gaze is fixed behind me, and I check over my shoulder to see what he’s staring at. But it’s just a blank wall.
‘Richard?’ I gently touch his arm. ‘It’s Holly Daniels. Do you remember me?’
Richard doesn’t move, or even blink.
‘Holly from New York. I see ghosts. We’ve spoken a few times, and we had coffee once. You told me about your kids and your wife. Do you remember?’
Still nothing.
‘Richard, I’ve been to the Western house. Something happened to me there. It felt as if my life was being sucked out of me. Did you feel or see anything at the house? The Western house?’
His eyelashes flutter.
‘Richard? Can you hear me? Can you tell me what happened to you?’
‘Stay away,’ Richard says, his voice scarcely a rasp.
My eyes snap to Jason. He looks as shocked as I feel.
I turn back to Richard again. ‘There you are. You can hear me.’ I rub a hand up and down his arm. ‘Can you tell me what happened that day?’
‘That place… no… stay away.’
‘Edward Western has asked me to investigate the house. Can you tell me anything that might help? What happened to you there?’
Richard jerks away from my touch and grabs my arm instead. I recoil, almost toppling backward, but he doesn’t let go. He squeezes tighter, his fingers pressing deep red marks into my skin.
I scramble to my knees. ‘Richard, you’re hurting me.’
Jason lurches forward. ‘Richard, let her go.’
Richard slowly turns his face towards me, fear etched in every crease, haunted eyes staring into mine.
‘Don’t let them take you, Holly! Can’t let them… take you…’
His hand drops as he sinks back into his chair, muttering the words over and over, ‘Don’t let them take you…’ until he slowly quietens, his blank stare returning.
My heart pounds. ‘Don’t let who take me, Richard?’ I rub his arm again. ‘Richard?’ But I can see he’s already gone.
I stare into Richard’s vacant eyes, fear lodging alongside the sadness lumping in my throat, until eventually I allow Jason to haul me off the floor. He stares at Richard too, eyes flick between me and the man now locked in his mind again.
‘What the hell was that about?’ he asks. The colour has drained from his cheeks.
I take Jason by the hand and drag him to the door. ‘I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.’
There’s no chatter this time as we drive back to East Mill.
Just a heavy silence that fills the car.
I can’t stop thinking about Richard. The man I met in the city was a happy man with a lovely family.
Now his wife and kids are sitting at home without a husband or a father, wondering what happened and why he would kill someone.
What did that house do to him? When Jason finally does say something, it takes me a moment to register the question.
‘Sorry, Jason, what did you say?’
‘What did he mean, don’t let them take you ? Is that a demon possession thing?’
‘I don’t know. I just know ghosts. I don’t have experience with any other kinds of supernatural things; I don’t even know if they exist. Callum’s the one with that kind of knowledge. I might swing a rosary and say a bit of Latin, but I’m no expert on theology or possession.’
‘But if you deal with ghosts, you must know about the afterlife.’
‘The only afterlife I see is the dead clinging on to a life that no longer exists. The spirits I deal with are awful, sure. But they’re not usually evil demons from the pits of hell.
’ I look at Jason. He looks half terrified.
‘Anyway, I think we should take what Richard says with a hefty grain of salt, don’t you?
’ Jason just frowns. ‘You saw him. Who knows what’s going on inside his mind. ’
‘Why does that not make me feel any better about—’
He’s cut short as I hit the brakes, hard. The car screeches, its tyres struggling for purchase. Acrid smoke billows around us as we fishtail across the asphalt, coming to an abrupt stop on the shoulder of the Old East Mill Highway.
‘What the hell , Holly?’
I nod ahead. ‘Sorry, I had to stop for her.’
He squints through the windshield. ‘Who? Should I be seeing someone?’
‘Nope. This one’s for my eyes only.’