Harrison Investigations 1 Haunted (18 page)

"Penny!"

"Seriously."

"The ghost is supposed to be in the house, not the
library!" Darcy said.

"But maybe this ghost is so disturbed by you that it followed
you."

"And maybe the floorboards are just really old, and they
gave."

"Well, go on up. Everything will certainly be more logical
once we've all thought about it a bit," Penny said.

Darcy stopped at the foot of the stairs and stared at her.
"Penny, weren't you the one who wanted someone to come here-to
prove to Matt that there were ghosts, I believe."

"Yes, I was. But that was then, and this is now." Penny was
exasperated. Darcy didn't seem to understand that she could really
be in danger.

"Penny, honestly, I do believe there is a presence in the Lee
Room trying very hard to make itself known, and understood. I
don't believe it followed me to the library. What happened to me
was frightening, but I'm fine, and it might have happened to
anyone. It could have been a child, and Matt might not have been
there in time."

"Yes, that's strange, isn't it?" Penny mused. How had Matt
managed to be there at just the right time?

"Strange, perhaps, but lucky," Darcy said. Penny was startled
when Darcy suddenly put her hands on her shoulders, drew her
close, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine, Penny,
and I'm not afraid of the ghost in the Lee Room. And I'm very
determined. I'll run up and bathe, and be back down. That tea you
were talking about sounds great. But don't go treating me like an
invalid. I have a scratch on my arm, nothing more."

Darcy ran up the stairs and Penny watched her go. She stood in
the foyer on the first floor landing for a very long time, still
staring long after Darcy had disappeared.

She shook her head.

It would be terrible if something were to happen to Darcy.

Just terrible.

She really needed to talk her into leaving.

Dan Platt was the building inspector called into the
library. Naturally, and with Matt's full agreement and
support, they were closing the library until a thorough
inspection could be made.

Still, Matt wanted a preliminary report.

Dan, midforties, with iron-gray hair and a muscled
physique, stood in his hard hat, hands on his hips. "Right
now, it looks like the boards just gave."

"Why those boards?" Matt demanded.

"Leakage, maybe."

"There are no leaks. I looked at the roof."

"Sometimes, leaks can slip down the walls and into floors
without being evident. There are other possibilities."

"Like what?"

"Something spilled there, maybe. Who knows? Maybe kids came in
with some kind of acidic drinks, spilled them, and were too chicken
to let Mrs. O'Hara know what had happened. A spilled drink that
wasn't wiped up would definitely damage this old wood. I'm
not sure, exactly, Matt. But it doesn't look as if there was any
tampering, though why anyone would tamper with the library to begin
with is beyond me."

"I'd still like an analysis done on the boards that gave
out."

"Sure. If that's what you want."

"Definitely, it's what I want."

Dan looked at Matt as if he was going off the deep end, but he
said, "We'll do a thorough investigation, and see that the rotten
pieces are analyzed."

Matt nodded. "Great."

Dan started back up the stairs. Matt stood in the now empty
ground floor, and waited. When Dan and his workers had
finished, Matt headed back up the stairs himself. It wasn't that he
didn't have complete faith in Dan Platt. Nor did he have the least
suspicion that Dan wouldn't do a thorough job.

Still...

He took an evidence bag from the pocket of his jacket and
selected a piece of the rotten floorboard from the area beneath the
local history sections.

Downstairs, he chose another.

At last, he exited the library, saw that the building was
locked, and that the notice that the facility was closed was
obviously displayed on the doors.

When he left, he didn't head home. He was taking a drive into
Washington. On the way, he put a call in to Shirley, letting her
know that he'd be out, but to call him on his cell in an
emergency.

It wasn't a long drive. Still, the day would be gone by the time
he returned.

"Hey!"

Darcy was sitting in the dining room with Penny, drinking
her whiskey-laced tea, when Clint came rushing in. She was touched
by the way he came to her instantly, hunched down and gave her a
simple, but very warm hug. Then he backed away, his hands still on
her arms, his eyes anxious. "Are you really okay?" he asked.

"Perfectly," she assured him.

"I've told her she should leave," Penny said firmly, lifting her
cup for a long swallow of tea.

"Because of the library?" Clint said, straightening at last and
staring at Penny with a frown.

"I think the ghost is following her," Penny said.

"Following her?" Clint repeated incredulously, sliding into one
of the chairs at the table. "Penny, that's insane."

"Is it?"

Clint let out a long breath. "I'm not convinced there is a
ghost."

"Then you're an idiot," Penny said primly.

Clint arched a brow to Darcy, smiling in amusement. "Penny, in
the old days, I spent many a night in that room. You know it."

"How old are you now, Clinton Stone? Over thirty, right?"

"Penny-"

"You should have been married long ago, with a family of your
own."

Clint sat back, his brows raised in surprise. "Penny, some
people just aren't the marrying kind."

She shook a finger at him. "Some people just aren't mature and
responsible!"

"Right. I should get married-like Matt did."

Penny looked abashed. "Lavinia seemed right for him at the
time."

Clint sniffed, then grinned at Darcy. "See, there's always
a way out of a tongue-lashing by Penny."

"Penny? Darcy? Where is everyone?" came a call from the
foyer.

Carter. The household was all arriving, so it seemed.

"Dining room!" Darcy called out.

Carter came striding in. Like Clint, he made his way straight to
Darcy, bent down on a knee, and took her hand. He looked earnestly
into her eyes. "Are you all right?"

She smiled. "I'm fine. And I'm going to take out an ad in the
newspaper soon, swearing that I'm fine." She looked at Penny and
added softly. "And that I'm not leaving."

"Leaving? Why should you leave?" Carter asked frowning.

"Penny thinks the ghost followed her to the library and pushed
the floorboards through."

Carter tried to hide a smile. "Why would the ghost do that? I
thought that she was here to talk to the ghost."

"Go ahead, make fun of me, you ruffians!" Penny said
indignantly.

Carter found a chair at the table as well. "Penny, I'm not
making fun of you. My question is why? If there is a ghost, and I'm
not at all convinced myself, one would think that the ghost wanted
to talk to someone. Clear the air. Be released from its terrible
curse of haunting, moaning, and chain dragging!"

"Our ghosts have never dragged chains around-or even moaned, for
that matter," Penny said, a hard edge in her voice.

Carter was trying very hard not to smile. "Penny, I'm sorry,
honestly, I'm not mocking you. I just can't see any correlation
between old floorboards giving out and a ghost that should be
relegated to haunting a single place. I mean, what ghost have you
ever heard about that travels around the countryside haunting
different places?"

She stared at him hard. "You want my opinion?"

"Well, not really," Clint murmured softly, playfully.

Penny cast him a baleful glance. "You two and Matt think that it
would be an unmanly-unm
acho
-thing to believe in ghosts,
and therefore, you won't accept anything. Even though Darcy
found poor Amy's skull in a day when it had been missing for over a
hundred years! She won't admit it, but I say that the ghost told
her where to find it."

"Did
the ghost tell you where to find it?" Clint asked
Darcy.

Despite herself, Darcy felt a flush rising. Penny needed
backing, but she didn't want to get Clint and Carter going.

"Research, intuition, and maybe some energy from the past," she
murmured uncomfortably.

"So there!" Penny said.

"Yeah, so there. Darcy looked up the history behind the legend,"
Carter said. "Penny, come on! Even Matt spent a lot of time in that
room, remember? Lavinia was crazy about the place. She thought it
was so historic and fascinating."

"Yeah-he spent time with his charming
wife,'"
Clint
reminded Penny, smiling.

"I spent some really great days in that room, too," Carter
said, grinning at Clint.

Penny glared at him.

"What?" Clint said, staring at Penny. "Doesn't Carter get a
tongue-lashing on his wild, womanizing ways as well?"

Penny set a hand on Carter's. "At least this poor boy was in
love with Susan Howell."

"Susan Howell?" Clint said. "What about Catherine Angsley, Tammy
what-ever-her-last-name-was, Gina Dan-son, and that
Glynnis-something woman?''

"Eh!" Carter said to Clint.

"He, at least, cared very deeply about Susan."

"Penny, the point here," Carter said, "is that all of us
so-called longing-to-be-macho men stayed in the room many
times-with nothing happening. A scared little bride who wanted the
room to be haunted panicked in the middle of the night. Clara Issy
freaked out while cleaning. And Darcy claims to be a ghost buster.
Sorry, Darcy," he said quickly.

"Maybe it's a ghost who only dislikes women," Clint said,
grinning. "You know, some horses are like that. Dogs too. They have
definite preferences for male and female people. Remember
that German shepherd we had years ago? Grade was her name. She
absolutely despised men, but became a kitten anytime a woman was
around."

"Yeah!" Carter agreed. "And remember that little white mop thing
Lavinia had?''

"Lhasa Apso," Clint told him.

"Whatever. The dog was the cutest little pile of white fur in
the world-until a guy went to pet it. Then it was all teeth and
obnoxious yaps," Carter recalled.

"Matt should have known not to marry her once he saw that dog,"
Clint said.

"Ah, hell, we all thought she was the hottest thing since fire
had been invented," Carter reminded him.

"You're getting off the subject," Penny said.

"I didn't realize we were really on a subject," Clint said.

"But, Penny, there you go, we were on the subject, we simply
found a solution to the dilemma," Carter said with a laugh. "We
have a ghost that isn't fond of women. Maybe it's a she, and she is
simply jealous of good-looking girls."

"Clara Issy would be delighted that you called her a
good-looking girl," Penny said tartly.

"Clara is adorable," Clint argued.

"But hardly a girl," Penny pointed out.

"It comes down to this, Penny," Carter said. "It's quite
ridiculous to associate an accident in the library with a malignant
ghost from the house, should one exist."

"And it also comes down to this," Darcy interjected firmly. "I'm
not leaving. Unless I'm thrown out." She stood. "Thank you, all of
you, for your concern. Penny, since the public library has now
become off-limits, may I crawl through some of the old house
records?"

"Yes, dear, of course. Make my office your own," Penny told her.
She looked at her wistfully as she rose. "I still wish that you'd
leave."

Darcy smiled. "I'll be all right, Penny. I promise."

"Dinner at seven," Penny said.

"I'll be there," Darcy assured her, and headed for Penny's
office.

The woman was a wonderful organizer, Darcy thought. As she
studied the bookshelves, Darcy saw that records, histories,
legends, and books related to ghost stories were arranged first
chronologically, and then alphabetically. She sat in the chair in
front of Penny's desk for several minutes, just studying the
shelves and musing over what had happened at the library. She
didn't believe that the entity haunting the Lee Room was truly
malevolent-merely frustrated. And Carter and Clint had made an
interesting point that afternoon-it had been all women who
had been troubled by the ghost.

Meaning?

She wasn't at all certain.

She needed to get moving.

She rose and selected a history that chronicled the early days
of Stoneyville. The first pages were dry and bland, recording a
great deal about building materials. Darcy skimmed the information.
Then, there was the sad story about poor Melody, who had died in
her lover's arms.

Melody was given a loving, Christian funeral. Her parents
mourned her loss until their dying days. The poor girl did not seem
a good candidate for such a haunting. Besides, she hadn't
slept in the Lee Room. The Jackson room had been hers.

Reading further, Darcy again skimmed a great deal of mundane
material dealing with births, deaths, baptisms, and marriages.
However, moving forward to 1777, she found mention of a strange
mystery. Apparently, the Stones had done a fair amount of
procreating outside the bonds of marriage. Arabella Latham, the
great-granddaughter of the builder's brother, Malachi Stone,
born on the wrong side of the blanket, was furious with her
family's decision to side with the Patriots during the
Revolution. Malachi Stone had died before the house had been
finished, and it was said that he had loaned his brother large sums
to have the house completed. His heirs-legitimate and
otherwise-were left penniless.

Arabella, however, had been engaged in a passionate affair with
Regan Stone, a legitimate cousin of the current master of the
house, Ryan Stone, and spent endless days there, basking in
the admiration of both cousins. Perhaps she had designs on
the legal heir to the house, and was using Regan to get close to
him. Ryan, however, was in love with a young beauty of the region,
Mary Anderson, who defied her own family, strong Tories, to elope
with him.