2
“Ooo ... spooky,” I whispered and giggled. “Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“How did you know I rolled my eyes? It’s pitch black in here.”
“Because I know you. And it’s not that dark. I bet we can find our way out.” I moved toward the door and slammed my knee into the coffee table. Pain shot up my leg. “Ouch. Maybe not.”
Crystal reached out and clung to my arm as I tried once again to ease to the door. We both jumped when we heard the slow creak of the door opening. My heart pounded at the sight of a flickering light illuminating the face of the old woman on the other side, giving her a ghostly glow. Chills ran up my back.
“It seems our power is out. Did you make your phone call in time?” she asked, her old voice adding to her spookiness.
“Um, no,” Crystal’s squeaking voice answered.
“That’s a shame.” Her shaky voice moved away from the door, taking the light with her. Crystal and I hurried out after her. She paused in the entry and waved to the door. “I wish you well and hope you can return home safely.”
“What?” I asked, a little bewildered. I leaned into Crystal and whispered, “She doesn’t expect us to just leave right now in the middle of this storm, does she?” Crystal nodded.
“What’s this?”
Crystal and I jumped at the sound of a man’s voice and turned to see a man in his late forties with a smidge of graying hair at the sides, holding his own candle and walking into the entry from a hallway. The flickering light danced across his face, casting a shadow that transformed him from a distinguished gentleman into a horrifying beast, and then back again.
“Visitors?”
“Hi. I’m sorry to barge in like this, but we’re having car problems, and now we can’t seem to catch a break in using the phone, either,” I said to him.
“American?” His eyebrow rose, and he looked me up and down. “Would you like me to examine your car?”
Crystal’s shoulders relaxed. “It would be a real help if you could. It’s only about two kilometers back out to the north.”
“Brillant,” he said, then turned to the old woman. “Bridgett, why don’t you make the ladies comfortable while I go fetch their car?”
“And leave me alone?” The woman appeared afraid of the idea, given how her voice squeaked.
“You won’t be alone. They’ll keep you company.” He held his hand out to us. “Keys?”
Crystal handed him the keys, thanking him repeatedly.
“I’m glad I can be of service. I’ll just fetch my coat and be on my way.” He hurried back the way he’d come.
Bridgett watched him with tight lips and hard eyes. “This is a bad idea,” she mumbled, then shuffled toward the back of the castle.
“This way.”
“Was that the owner of the castle?” I asked Bridgett.
“That was the gardener, Mr. Davidson. He’s the head caretaker of Wrenthal Castle while the master is away.”
She led us through a spacious dining room with the longest wooden table I’d ever seen. The room was only lit by Bridgett’s candle and the faint light of three narrow stained-glass windows at the far end. Between the windows, I could tell there was a fireplace, but from the angle of the light, I couldn’t tell how large it was or if it had a mantle.
A door in the back of the room groaned open, and the three of us headed into a narrow room with great fancy cupboards and serving dishes displayed behind the glass doors both to the right and left. It must be the butler’s pantry. The dangling bells upon the walls reminded me of old movies and TV shows I’d seen with servants rushing to the aid of their masters the moment the bells chimed. Oh, I wonder how many servants the master of the house has. At the other side of the tiny room, we walked through a swinging door into the kitchen.
The thought provoked a song to trapeze through my head. I whistled Master of the House until Crystal shot me an annoyed look, so I stopped.
Bridgett shuffled about, lighting candles and placing them around the kitchen. “Help yourself to some fruit,” she pointed at the bowl in the center of the stone island. I took an apple, thanked her, and then studied the old kitchen utensils that hung on the walls. The kitchen was a good mixture of modern and Old-World styles. In one corner stood a large fridge, accompanied by gas stoves and sinks with running water. The most striking feature of the room was the large fireplace, adorned with an iron pot hanging over the cold remains of burnt wood and ash. Above it was a rectangular space for baking, just like the pizzerias where I dined with friends.
I shivered at the sight of the empty fireplace and had a thought. “Can I help you start a fire in that?”
The woman seemed keen on the idea but resisted smiling. “That would be nice. Thank you.” She proceeded to help me find the wood and a pack of matches. After gathering everything I needed, I lit a fire in no time while whistling Master of the House again. Once I got a song stuck, it stayed stuck.
“Much better,” Crystal said, holding her hands out closer to the warmth of the fire.
“My name is Jessica, and this is Crystal,” I held my hand out to Bridgett.
She only stared at it, then turned away. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
I glanced at Crystal. She answered with a shrug.
“You may stay here and wait by the fire. I have things to do.” She left the room and closed the door behind her.
“Well, she’s just a bundle of joy,” I said. “I think I’ll invite her to my next work party.”
“Jessica,” Crystal frowned. “She’s old. I’m sure she has dozens of reasons to be grumpy.”
I shrugged. “You’re probably right. You’re always right.”
“So, you’ve finally figured that out?”
A grin stretched across my face. “Let’s go explore.”
Crystal scowled. “No way. This place gives me the creeps. There’s no way I’m leaving this spot. Besides, we don’t have permission to go anywhere else.”
“The master’s gone and so is the caretaker. I’m guessing the only other person here is Bridgett, and I bet she’s resting her weary bones someplace out of the way now.” I took her hand in mine and pulled her toward the door. “Come on! This place has got to have some ghosts hiding away somewhere.”
“No way!” Crystal pulled her hand from mine. “I have no desire to see any ghosts.”
“Crystal,” I whined. “Where’s your sense of adventure? It’s been years since we’ve done anything stupid and reckless.”
“Go for it. I’ll wait here until I hear your scream—well, even then, I still might stay here.” She folded her arms, avoiding me retaking her hand. “You’re on your own.”
“Party pooper.”
“Every party has a pooper, and that’s why they invited me.” We jumped at the sound of thunder crashing outside the stone walls. Crystal moved closer to the fire with her back turned to me.
“Well,” I said, picking up a candle holder, making sure the wick was long enough so the flames wouldn’t die out. “If you do hear me scream, just know I want the song ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ played at my funeral.”
“Not funny,” she responded as I left the room.
I crossed the dining room and walked back into the entryway. The carved wood and marble on the stairs reminded me of Halloween with the gothic carvings. Upstairs held more promises of seeing something spooky. I headed up as fast as I dared, shielding the candle flame from the draft.
At the top of the staircase, a long hallway led to the left and one even longer continued to the right. The stone arched across the ceiling both ways, and wood beams ran up, over and down the other side. “Which way?” I asked out loud. When in doubt, I always choose the right. As I approached the first carved door, I carefully opened it, only to find a broom closet. What a letdown. I closed the door and continued. The next door held a study with what I assumed could only be a desk hidden under stacks of folders and books. The room had nothing out of the ordinary for an office. No ghosts there.
So disappointing.
One room down, behind a creaky door, held a modern restroom. The next two doors were bedrooms that didn’t match the rest of the castle. Both had obviously been redone with smooth-painted walls and bathrooms attached. Four-poster beds filled most of the space with large chests, dressers, and bright paintings on the walls.
Lightning flashed and lit up the hall as I exited the last room. Thunder roared again. Sweet! Now we just need some ghosts.
I wandered to the end of the hall, inspecting each painting and tapestry on display. I paused, squinting to see further down another hall to my left. I hadn’t realized how dim and dark a castle could be inside with such small windows. The place definitely needed more windows.
To the right, a tower of stairs twisted up into pitch black. I stopped and gazed down into the darkness below, then up to the blackness above. My heart pounded with the excitement of the unknown. I had always wanted to see the top of a castle tower, and doing so during a stormy day with thunder and lightning all around was a bonus.
“This is so awesome,” I sang into the musty tower air. “Crystal’s totally missing out.” My mind started shifting through scenarios of me seeing an actual ghost, which caused my stomach to flip. Okay. Maybe being alone wasn’t a good idea. The idea of seeing specters sounded thrilling, but actually witnessing them was unnerving. Plus, actually catching one had to be unlikely. There are no such things as ghosts. Only the makings of what people want to see. Right? Right, I reminded myself.
This place would make a perfect haunted house. Someone could drop a fake body from the top and really scare the daylights out of me.Okay. Not helping, brain. I took a steady breath, thinking of the possibilities that awaited me, and walked up the stairs. Narrow windows that had once served as arrow slits lit the few steps ahead of me between the blackness. The dark clouds outside made it feel like late evening. I peered through one of the windows and couldn’t see much. I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of old stone and wood.
At the top, the staircase ended in a small, circular room with nothing inside but an empty bookshelf. The wood beams in the ceiling above reached a point in the middle. I was about to twirl around in the room, just to say I had when a shrill scream rang out from somewhere below. I spun around and hurried back down to the second floor, taking care not to break my neck. When I reached the hall, the scream increased in volume.
I knew that scream. “Crystal!” I called, my heart nearly pounding from my chest.
Dan
The windshield wipers moaned and screeched back and forth across the glass, but they couldn’t keep up with the amount of rain that fell. I pressed the cell phone between my shoulder and ear and used both hands to turn onto my private country road. “What a complete waste of time that trip turned out to be.”
“Don’t tell me they canceled again,” my manager’s booming voice could be heard clearly, so I hurried to finish the turn and then held the phone a few inches from my head.
“I scheduled it two weeks in advance. Far enough ahead for the company to plan the meetings so it could be productive—yet they still canceled.” I took a deep, calming breath before continuing, “I can understand that things come up and it doesn’t work out as we would hope, but for this to happen three times in a row—it’s just frustrating and frankly unprofessional.”
“Well, Dan, next time the company needs you to enlighten them on how their new software works, they can hold the meeting via conference call. I can’t expect you to travel as much as you have— oh, got to go. I’ve got someone calling in.”
We said a rushed goodbye then I tucked the phone into my jacket pocket. The large potholes along the narrow road blended in with the giant puddles of water, yet I knew this road like the back of my hand and dodged them easily.
The gate came into view through the downpour, and I sighed. “Home.”
My eyes gravitated toward something completely out of the ordinary. A light blue car parked on the gravel didn’t belong in my circular drive. I parked beside the car and looked around for any sign of guests. I reached into my back seat to retrieve my small suitcase and briefcase and opened the car door. The rain pelted my head and shoulders the moment I stepped out. A few steps from the front door, I heard a faint scream from inside my home.
My stomach flipped, unease crashed through me. I threw the heavy door open. Synchronized screams erupted and were cut off only seconds later. The darkness inside made it difficult to see. I blinked hard and spotted two women standing at the bottom of the staircase, holding each other as if in terror.
One of the women standing before me was in tears, and the other had her mouth hanging open in shock. The dimness of the entry prevented me from truly seeing details of their faces. Whether they were old or young, I couldn’t tell. I peered around at the lights, then reached my hand out for the switch—which, of course, didn’t work. Figures.
“Mr. Gladwin. You’re home!” Bridgett hurried past the tongue-tied women and stood before me. “I’m sorry you had to come home to this.” She leaned closer and whispered, “These two had car troubles, and Mr. Davidson has offered to help with their car. I tried to dismiss them but with the storm and all…”
I nodded and whispered back, “W—w—why’s she c—crying?” Great. Not now.
“I’m not sure. Most likely, they’ve had a scare.” Bridgett wrung her old, shaking hands together.
I took her hand and patted it. “Tell them there’s n—n—othing to be f—f—frightened of and give them some r—r—refreshment. I’ll take my things to my r—room.”
Bridgett nodded and turned from me. “Come along.” She waved at the women. “Come have some warm tea.”
“I’m not going back in there,” the shorter woman said with a shaky voice. “I saw a ghost.”
“Get out! Really? And I missed it?” the taller woman said with obvious disappointment. “Some people have all the luck.” Her attention turned to me, and she held out her hand. “I’m Jessica Grayson, and this scaredy-cat is my friend, Crystal. You must be the master of this castle?”
I slowly shook her hand and nodded. My heart rate tripled in time from the brief touch. Odd that. By her accent, I guessed she was from one of the western states. The last thing I had expected to come home to was an American woman screaming with her friend in my entry hall. It was a little unnerving—mostly because she was attractive—at least in the dim light she appeared so. It would be inevitable that my stuttering would rule me in while she was here.
“Come along. Mr. Gladwin’s a busy man, so let’s move along and let him be.” Bridgett took the one named Jessica by the arm and guided her from me. I watched the three of them head toward the kitchen. I couldn’t help but notice the bounce in Jessica’s step and how her chestnut hair fell over her shoulders as she walked away from me. What an odd woman to be so joyous in the midst of her misfortune.
Jessica
“I think we scared the pants off Mr. Gladwin. Did you see his face when he walked in the door?” I said, running my fingers along the stone wall leading into the dining room.
“I didn’t notice. I was too busy being scared. And it was too dark to really tell.” When Crystal stopped at the end of the long table, she watched the door as though it would jump out and grab her. “I’m not going back in there. I saw a ghost.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn’t see me in the dark. “Come on. You’ll be all right. Everyone knows ghosts won’t appear with a group of people in the room. You’ll be fine.” I knew it was a stupid explanation. I had no idea what ghosts did or didn’t do—or if, in fact, they were real.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Her hand clamped down harder on my arm.
“Ow.”
“Jessica. I. Saw. A. Ghost.”
“Wow. You aren’t kidding around.” Could they really be real? I’d flip-flopped on the existence of ghosts for so long that I didn’t know what to believe. Maybe she was telling the truth.“All right, let’s get those ghosts.” If she had it in her head that she saw something, I needed to help her figure out what it could be.
Maybe it was just like when I was a kid and went to stay at my aunt’s house for the weekend. The first night after being tucked into the dark room, I noticed something standing in the corner. The creature appeared tall, with a large, dark mouth that hung open as if ready to devour me. I called out to my aunt. When she turned on the light, I discovered it was only a coat stand. The “mouth” I had seen was nothing more than a hat.
Just like with the coat stand, I was determined to show Crystal that there was nothing to be afraid of—at least, I hoped there wasn’t. “Come on,” I pulled her into the kitchen. Now that it held a crackling fire, the room looked warm and inviting. “Where did you see the ghost?”
Bridgett stuck her head out of a pantry she’d only stepped into seconds before. “I told you. You shouldn’t have come.”
I stood a little taller and ignored Bridgett’s comment. I didn’t want her feeding the flames and causing Crystal to be scared of what she thought she saw. “Show me.”
Crystal nodded toward the thin window near the heavy-looking wooden table. “She floated in through the wall, saw me, then with a burst of wind … she was gone.”
“Burst of wind, eh?” I studied the room more closely, noticing an electric fan perched on a shelf. With no power, it sat still. Could there have been a surge of power long enough to start the fan, getting Crystal’s heart pumping and imagination rolling?
“The ghost reminded me of Jane Austen’s Emma. You know, the one with Gwyneth Paltrow.” As Crystal talked, her shoulder relaxed, and her hands grew steady. No doubt she’d soon realize the silliness of the situation.
“I love that movie!” I said with enthusiasm.
“Bridgett, tell me a little about yourself. Do you live here all the time?”
She nodded.
“And do you like it here?”
She didn’t answer.
Alrighty.“How long have you lived here?”
“Twenty-two years.” The poor woman’s voice was so feeble it made me want to hug her.
“Are you married?”
“My Gregory died many years ago,” she replied.
“I’m sorry.” I knew it was a stupid response, but what else could I say?
“Does Mr. Gladwin have children?” Crystal asked.
I held up my index finger and interrupted, “I think the first question you should be asking is if he’s married. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage—don’tcha know?” I laughed, glancing questioningly at Bridgett. I wanted the question answered. From what I could tell in the dim light, Mr. Gladwin was hot, with a capital H. I guess I had a thing for trimmed beards and broad shoulders.
Crystal rolled her eyes and laughed.
“What? Mr. Gladwin looks like the kind of man who doesn’t go about doing things backwards,” I said, biting into a banana.
“No. He has no children,” Bridgett stated.
“That’s good. I can’t imagine children living in a place like this.” Crystal shivered involuntarily.
“Are you kidding? I would have loved to grow up in a place like this. Think of all the hiding places you could find,” I said, as I imagined reversing time and coming here as a child. “Halloween parties would be rockin’ awesome!”
“Jessica, I’m so glad you’ve come to visit,” Crystal said. “I’ve missed your goofiness and strange behavior.”
I placed my hand over my heart. “What? Me? Strange?”