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Authors: Loni Lynne

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BOOK: Wanted: One Ghost
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“Well, of course. Fully intact. Antique chatelaines are not easy to come by. I’ve had various offers over the years for the piece, but I’ve not been able to part with it.” Beth tilted her head questioningly. “Would you care to see it? I have it upstairs in a private collection.”

“I would love to!”

Following her upstairs, April’s heart beat faster. This was it. She was going to hopefully view Catherine’s chatelaine, but what else would she be able to do? She couldn’t touch it. The temptation was great but she wouldn’t let herself for the sake of not being sure what could happen, especially now. Touching artifacts and sensing the past was one thing, phasing in and out of time, would take some explaining.

How could she convince Beth to part with it? She didn’t need it for long, just until she could match it up with the desk and see if Catherine’s journal was still inside after all these years.

“Have a seat.” Beth motioned to the chair in front of her desk, piled with unfiled paperwork. “Sorry for the mess, but until I can get into our new location I’m afraid my filing system has deteriorated.”

She sat down at the desk and unlocked a large filing drawer next to her. Inside the drawer was a sturdy filing safe. April’s palms tingled watching Beth unlock the safe. Beth retrieved a royal blue velvet bag. Opening the drawstring she carefully shook the contents onto her desk blotter. A small silver flur de lis held two small keys, one larger than the other, both daintily scrolled in detail. Beth smiled, her stare intense. “Go ahead, touch it.”

The glow of knowledge in Beth’s eyes worried her. This was an artifact. It shouldn’t be touched without proper precautions. Did she know? How could she? “No. I can’t. It’s beautiful though.” April’s hand twitched as if it willed her to reach out, just once.

“Yes, you can, April,” Dr. Freelane commanded with a reassuring smile. But her voice trembled slightly. The woman’s eagerness for April to touch it electrified the room. “I’ve waited nearly three decades for someone to reveal who this chatelaine belonged to and why I’m so enamored with it that I’m unable to sell it for an offered price of $50,000.”

April’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. This woman knew of her gift. Fear and trepidation fought to escape. Her body quivered, wondering what Dr. Freelane would do or think. Was this a game? Some joke gone bad?

Dr. Freelane looked April directly in the eye. “Dr. Moreland told me you have the gift of psychometry and you could tell me what I needed to know. Touch it, please.”

***

Did she hear right? April sat stunned, staring at Beth across her desk. She knew about her gift? Well, the woman hadn’t discredited her or ridiculed her…yet.

“Bob Moreland told me he knew you had the sight when you were able to note information about the Jamestown dig. You two share a common interest. He has a bit of the ability, though not as strong from what he told me,” Beth explained, eyeing her with warm appreciation. “It’s not something people see every day. I understand it might not be a comfortable topic for you. Most people wouldn’t comprehend, or they would judge or try to exploit your gift if it was revealed. I find psychometry fascinating!”

Beth sighed. “Bob tried to get some information from the chatelaine years ago, but he wasn’t able to distinguish anything of significance. All he sensed was residual pain.”

Well, of course! Residual pain was the prominent ordeal. The fire and trauma of what Catherine went through was nothing but pain.

“You want me to actually touch it?” Could she without repercussions? “Really, I don’t know if I should. Lately I think there is more to my gift than just ‘touching’ something to obtain knowledge.”

Beth leaned forward, waiting for her to continue. “Such as?”

April hesitated. It was now or never. She would take what came. “I phase into the past,” she whispered, bowing her head, waiting for the laughter or the gasp of shock. Perhaps it would be an immediate phone call to the psych ward at the local hospital.

Beth nodded in full agreement and understanding. “Live energy and residual energy converging. I’ve done some research on it, ever since my excavation at the mill site. Have you been out there?”

It was April’s turn to be shocked. She wasn’t being questioned or committed? She studied Beth warily. Did she have the gift? “I’ve been out to the site. I’ve been able to sense a piece of the past.” She didn’t want to reveal too much of the details. It was enough for someone of Beth’s caliber to accept so much of her gift.

Beth steepled her fingers under her chin. “I sensed this overwhelming feeling of—I don’t even know what it was. It was almost as if I were a part of the surroundings. I’ve never felt it anywhere else. Well, that’s not true. There was a moment I had a connection when I toured one of the historical plantations down in St. Mary’s county. But the mill site was definitely stronger.”

She leaned across the desk. “What about you? What’ve you seen? Did you phase when you were out at the ruins?”

How much should she reveal? This was all so new and unbelievable. “I saw the fire.” April would wait to say more. She wasn’t ready to reveal more than the bare minimum.

“Would you be willing to touch the chatelaine and tell me its secrets?”

The curator was asking her for a favor? Should she, could she, ask for one in return? “I already know who it belongs to. The chatelaine belonged to Catherine Samuel.”

Jumping up from her seat, Beth’s eyes widened. “This is fantastic!” She sat back down, her brows knotted. “But how did the chatelaine end up at the mill site? Unless she
was
having an affair with James Addison and it ended up there!”

“No. She was having an affair with Daniel Smith, his foreman.” April bit her lip at revealing too much. Damn! She felt the need to protect James’s name but didn’t want to blurt out the truth. Besides, she still didn’t have the proof. Now she would have to explain seeing ghosts.

Beth came around the desk. Her eyes were critical and assessing, her stance slightly rigid. “How do you know? Why did you want to see the chatelaine?”

“I need to see if one of the keys fits in the lock of a desk at my aunt’s house. I believe it belonged to Catherine Samuel. I think there is something in the desk we might be able to use to bring some interesting history to light.”

Beth didn’t ask any more. Her eyes traveled to her chatelaine. “Do I have your word nothing will happen to it in your care?”

“I promise,” April breathed with relief. Beth was going to take a chance on her! “You can even come with me,” she offered.

“No. I can’t.” Beth shook her head. “There is something about your Aunt’s house I can’t deal with. It took all my will power to bring over the boxes the other day and go up to the porch to ring the doorbell. I trust you.” Beth placed the chatelaine back into its velvet bag and handed it to her. “Go now. I want to know if it works.”

Chapter Twenty-One
 

April worried about going back to the house. Was it safe after this morning’s incident with Henry? She knew if James saw her head back he would forbid her to go, but she needed to see if the chatelaine would work.

Aunt Vickie’s car was parked in the drive. She didn’t want to go in the front door. She would see if her aunt was in her apartment in the back. The sooner she did this, the faster she could get on with her job of finding the information she needed. Besides, the journal could hold any number of clues helpful to her in locating the document.

“Aunt Vickie?” April called out as she knocked on her door.

Vickie pulled the curtain back to peek out, and then opened the door to usher her in. “How did it go with Beth?”

“Fine. She let me borrow the chatelaine,” April gushed excitedly. Unable to contain her excitement, she hugged her aunt.

Her aunt held her at arm’s length after their hug fest, studying her seriously. “I suppose you want to go try it?”

“Could we? Time is running out with Kenneth Miles coming in a few days. Anything I could send him before then would only be a plus.”

“How did James take the news? I would have thought he would be with you.” Aunt Vickie stopped talking to glare at her. “He doesn’t know, does he?” Shaking her head, she started to walk back towards her small living room.

April bit her bottom lip and followed. “I didn’t want to worry him. He’s working, and I shouldn’t have to get his permission. He knows I have a job to do.”

Aunt Vickie turned on her, startling April. “Bullshit! You snuck in my back door so he wouldn’t accidentally see you while giving tours.” Aunt Vickie eyed her knowingly, tapping her foot. “And now I suppose you want me to try and hold off Henry’s entity if he happens to be lurking about in his realm while you try out the key?”

She could feel embarrassment flush her cheeks. She was dealing with her aunt. Did she think she could pull one over on her? “You don’t have to…”

Her aunt sighed. “No, I don’t have to but if I don’t, you’ll go up there and be attacked. I’ll be responsible for your death and your mother and grandmother will have my ass. Okay, let’s get this over with.”

***

Waving a smudge stick of white sage to ward off evil spirits and negative energies, Aunt Vickie led them up the stairs to Catherine’s bedroom. The room was the same as when they left it earlier, except without the heavy feeling of evil. Bright sunlight soaked the room, revealing every shadowy nook and corner.

“All right, dear. Let’s see what we find.” Vickie motioned to the desk as she continued to wave the pungent smudge stick.

April removed the chatelaine from the pouch, letting it fall on the bed’s coverlet. She was still hesitant to touch the antique accessory for fear of what would happen before she could use it in the lock. Her excitement suddenly turned to trepidation. The unknown effects of what this simple piece of jewelry could reveal hit her. Could she do this? She had to!

“You haven’t touched it yet, have you?” her aunt asked. At the shake of her head her aunt picked up the large key and went to the desk. “Can’t have you phasing without knowing where and when you’ll be going,” she harrumphed.

Chills traveled up April’s arms. These were shivers of excited energy as she was about to find her buried treasures. Like Indiana Jones opening the Ark of the Covenant, she prayed it didn’t do anything to harm her or her aunt.

Closing her eyes, April heard the small snick of the key turning in the lock for probably the first time in over two centuries. She took in the squeak of rusty hinges as the desktop came down with Aunt Vickie’s guidance.

“Well stop meditating and come take a look,” her aunt said.

April jumped from the bed. The only things in the drop down alcove of the desk were an old piece of writing quill, a pewter inkwell of dried up ink, a small piece of ancient sealing wax, and a brass stamp engraved with the letter ‘S’. Her heart dropped. They would be interesting items for the society, but not what she was looking for. No, there must be something she was missing.

Touching the desk, April was taking a risk of having her gift manifest but she let her hands roam over the piece of furniture quickly, searching around and under it. “There has to be a secret drawer or panel. What about the drawer with the lock? And the smaller key, it has to go to something.”

“Let’s give it a try.”

She had her aunt unlock the drawer beneath the desktop and it popped out as if on a spring mechanism. But when she reached in to feel around in the back, it was empty. Disheartened, April was about to give up when her hand caught on a latch to a false compartment in the inside of the drawer. A small keyhole, slightly hidden from normal view caught her attention and excitement sluiced up her spine. A secret hiding area!

“Yes! I found it!”

Without thinking, April grabbed the chatelaine from the keyhole in the drawer so she could use it to unlock the secret compartment. She collapsed against the desk as wave after wave of nausea hit her. She closed her eyes to ward off the intense vertigo she was suffering.

When she opened her eyes she was in the room but her aunt was nowhere to be seen. The door opened and in walked Catherine. She was beautiful and glowing, her face animated as she tugged someone into the room along with her. She was giggling.

“Henry’s gone for the weekend to Annapolis. Probably to see his mistress again.”

“Are you sure about this? What about your maid?” A young man appeared, somewhere between his early to late twenties. A crop of reddish-blonde hair topped his head.

“I sent her to see her family in Baltimore for the weekend. We at least have a few hours tonight.” Catherine hugged the man and he returned the embrace.

“I’ve waited for this moment for so long,” he said. “Each time I see you I can’t help but remember how it used to be. I swear we will be together again soon. I won’t let Henry have you when you’ve always been mine.”

“Oh, Daniel. I just don’t know how. I’m married to him now. It’s all so unfair. I hate having to sneak around. If we’re caught I don’t know what will happen. But I want to be with you. Since your servitude with Mr. Addison is over and he’s offered you land and a job, will you take it so we can still see each other or will you leave and head back to England?”

“I’m staying here until I can have you by my side. I’m building a house for us. Not going to be as fancy as what you’re used to.”

“I wasn’t raised to be fancy, Daniel. I want you and a family.” Catherine’s voice became sad. “I lost our baby. They never even let me see her when they took her from me. I was so distraught when you left to go work for Mr. Addison. I thought we’d never see each other again. When Henry won me in the card game and brought me to Kings Mill, I never thought I would have to marry him. But it was my only chance of escaping the tobacco fields and to be close to you.” She buried her face in his chest.

Daniel stroked her back with tender touches. He brought her face up so he could see it and kissed her troubled brow. “I know. I don’t blame you, sweetheart. We will be together somehow, we just need to wait and the good Lord will let us know when it’s our time.”

April listened to the conversation and watched as they kissed. Did they not see her standing only a few feet away? Was she not in their realm? She tried clearing her throat, waving her hand—nothing seemed to attract their attention, except each other. She was a ghost in their time. Studying the couple, they seemed very much in love. She hoped to move on. Voyeurism was not something she was into. She turned away to give them a moment of privacy.

She glanced back one last time. Daniel seemed familiar and upon taking a closer look, she noticed the clothing and height. It was the same man from the cellar fire. The one she couldn’t see. She knew the truth now. Henry had killed both Catherine and Daniel that day.

She needed to get back to her time. She called out to her aunt, hoping she could hear her and tell the spirits to ‘be gone.’ When nothing happened, April called out ‘be gone’ and felt herself whirling back through the cataclysmic cycle of time, closing her eyes as time spun around her, making her dizzy.

When she opened her eyes, her aunt stood over her waving a weathered black book tied with a piece of leather. “Welcome back.”

“How long was I gone?”

“Long enough to have your mother and grandmother join us.”

April looked up from the floor where she’d collapsed to see her mother and grandmother standing at the end of the bed. And boy did they look pissed!

***

“What part of ‘don’t come back here until its safe’ do you not understand, April May Branford?” her mother scolded as the women converged in Aunt Vickie’s living room.

“I wanted to see if the chatelaine worked in the desk. It does!” She looked at her aunt, still holding the aged book. Aunt Vickie had taken time to wrap it in a clean flour sack dishtowel to keep oils off of it until April could take a look. “Is that Catherine’s journal?” she asked with wide-eyed awe.

“Don’t change the subject,” her grandmother added waggling a finger at her. “Your mother asked you a question. Did you not understand it’s not safe for you to come here until we all made sure Henry was out of the house?”

“But Aunt Vickie was here—“

“And you’d risk her life against Henry Samuel to find out if a key works in a desk?” her grandmother asked.

April hadn’t thought about her aunt, she’d wanted to get to the desk. “Sorry, Aunt Vickie, I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’ve been so focused on my research I’ve not thought things through.”

“No you weren’t thinking clearly, young lady!” her mother reiterated pacing the length of the room.

“Would you two give her a break? No harm was done. The keys worked, she found the journal, a good time for all.” Her aunt shrugged. “So what went on while you dozed?”

“Dozed?” April gave her a quizzical stare. “You mean I didn’t phase?”

“No, you collapsed instantly against the wall when you touched the chatelaine. What happened?”

April quickly filled in her family on the lover’s tryst.

“How tragic! Two lovers so close but forced worlds apart,” Aunt Vickie said, sounding like a movie trailer.

“Yeah, it sounds like she bore a child out of wedlock after Daniel went to Kings Mill with James. I might research the ancestry of indentured servants in the colonies just to see what comes up. Some states and counties kept records of births and deaths of slaves and servants.”

“Maybe she wrote about it in her journal,” Vickie said, finally handing the towel wrapped book over to her. “Before you get involved with this ghost, don’t you think it’s time you went to get your other ghost?”

April looked at her watch. She’d forgotten about the time. “Crap! Yeah, I guess so.” She grabbed her coat, tucked the journal into her purse, and made sure the chatelaine was carefully tucked into its pouch and secure in her purse. “What are we doing about a place to stay tonight?”

“We’ll work on cleansing the area thoroughly while you take James out for dinner,” Aunt Vickie said.

“Okay.” April started to open the door but turned back at the last minute. “You won’t tell James about this afternoon, will you?” She didn’t want to get him all worked up. He would probably get angry with her. But then again, she’d enjoyed it the first time.

“No, dear. We won’t tell him.”

“Thanks Grams, I appreciate it.” She could always count on her.

“We won’t tell him,” her grandmother restated. “You will.”

***

April was eager to read Catherine’s journal. She would start after dinner. Catherine would have the knowledge of what happened to put her husband in such a mood as to have someone executed publicly. The actual documentation of his death would provide the evidence for the history books and finally explain to James what happened. He would be able to move on.

BOOK: Wanted: One Ghost
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