Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

At a few minutes to eight the next morning, Sybil went outside and stood near the circular driveway. Dressed in full winter gear of a sweater, flannel-lined jeans, boots, gloves, and with the hood pulled up on her winter coat, she enjoyed the first proper day that resembled winter. Dawn had broken at thirty-five degrees and no clouds. The sun had a painful brightness common at this altitude. Even the thick forest didn’t have the haunting, creepy mood it usually did. She could almost forget the strange figure outside the ballroom, or the shadow sitting on her bed last night. She could almost disregard her mother’s call. Almost.

She hadn’t told Letisha or anyone else about the phone call from her mother. What difference would it make? She’d tell Letisha when she got the chance.

Being outside lightened her mood. Yes, she’d always loved gloomy old houses, but this house did something to her she didn’t understand. Something that made her edgy. Uncertain.

That, and the idea of meeting Doug outside, somehow appealed to her. So what if it made her look eager to see him? She was.

Eight o’clock on the dot, his truck made its way down the long driveway. After he parked, she went to meet him. He’d also dressed for the winter temperatures and wore a navy sock hat with a Denver Broncos logo on it.

“Hey,” she said. “Right on time.”

“Always. At least I try. How’s it going?”

“It’s been a weird day or two.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Can’t wait to hear.”

She winced. “You might think we’re crazy.”

“I doubt it. Let me get my stuff out of the truck.”

She helped him carry things into the house. Maria, Pauline and Letisha met them in the Great Hall. He placed boxes on the big table in front of the massive fireplace.

“So tell me,” he said. “What’s happened since I was last here?”

Letisha outlined things for him, and the others peppered in opinions and observations. After Pauline mentioned the figure they’d seen through the ballroom window, Sybil knew she had to mention what she’d seen last night.

“Well, this is going to seem completely illogical,” Sybil said.

She told him about the shadow figure on her bed.

“You didn’t tell us about this at breakfast,” Maria said, her tone almost accusatory. She hadn’t told them about her mother’s call yet.

Sybil glanced at the younger woman. “No. I wasn’t sure I wanted to say anything.”

“Why?” Maria asked.

“Because the ghosts in this house won’t hurt us,” Sybil said.

“How do you know?” Pauline said. “What if they’re evil?”

Letisha snorted. “I thought you didn’t believe in this stuff either.”

“Do you?” Pauline stared at Letisha.

Sybil’s gaze tangled with Doug’s for a moment, and she saw curiosity in his eyes, but no condemnation or skepticism.

Letisha sighed. “Okay, yes. I believe in it. But I don’t see dead people, so it’s easy for me to ignore it sometimes.”

“Wow.” Pauline nodded. “Okay. But that still doesn’t answer the question.” Her gaze went back to Sybil. “Why can’t they hurt us?”

Irritation with Pauline’s questions, which sounded almost accusatory, made Sybil say, “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we need to make sure this house is secure, and no one can sneak in here. That’s what is important right now.”

“Whatever is happening, the security system will catch anyone who shouldn’t be here. I’d better get busy,” Doug said.

Immediately after, everyone but Letisha and Sybil left to start work.

“I’m going to lie down for a bit,” Letisha said. “These pills are still making me tired.”

Sybil pressed her friend’s shoulder. “No problem. I’ll take care of things.”

Letisha’s eyes seemed cloudy with fatigue. “Thanks. See you later, Doug.”

“Feel better,” he said. After Letisha left, he said, “Want to help me install everything? I’ll show you how it all works.”

* * *

Total installation of all the sensors and cameras moved along fast. Even set up in the attic was quick.

As they came down the stairs into the Great Hall, Doug said, “All that’s left is the cellar. Basement. Whatever you call it.”

Sybil hesitated. She realized she dreaded going down there again.

He turned toward her, concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed her arms as a chill danced over her skin. “I haven’t been in the attic or the cellar since you were last with us.”

“Hey at least you got rid of those weird tracks around the house. It looks really clean in here already.”

She laughed, but the sound lacked enthusiasm. “True. I still have no idea what could’ve caused the tracks. Or whatever they are.”

“I think this house has a lot of secrets. All old places do.” He picked up the box that contained what he needed for the cellar. “You still okay to go with me into the cellar?”

It came out before she could stop it. “I don’t think I’d be afraid of going anywhere if you were with me.”

His eyes widened a little, and he cracked a grin.

Heat filled her face. Before he could say anything, she rushed in with, “That sounded...”

Awkward. Hero worship much?

“I’m flattered,” he said, still smiling.

Her gaze met his, and the male interest in them filled her with new confidence.

Before she could say anything else, though, or allow that intense expression in his eyes to make her say something else vulnerable, she continued with, “Let’s finish this up. It isn’t going to get any less creepy.”

“Nope, it’s not.”

When they reached the cellar door, she unlocked it. She ignored the crawling sensation that went up her arms as she opened the door. The hinges let out a squawk.

“That didn’t happen before.” She winced. “Guess it’s time to put some oil on that.”

“Unless you like the haunted house ambiance.”

Without the light, the stairs looked like a yawning, dark mouth. She caught her breath.

She turned on the light and the illumination rid the cellar of that choking sensation.

Come on. You did this before. You can do it again. Don’t be a coward. Unless you are. Could that be the real problem?

Descending the steps, she decided she didn’t want to seem cowardly. She reached the bottom of the steps and heard him behind her. She glanced around. Nothing had changed in the rooms. At least from what she could see. Still dusty and filled with junk they would clear when everything else was done. Okay, not everything here qualified as refuse. Many valuable antiques had moldered way in here for decades collecting dirt.

She stopped cold when she noticed something on the floor right ahead of her. She walked that way and squatted down to look. “What is this?”

He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and clicked it on. “Mud?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t there when we were down here before.”

“Not that I remember,” he said as their gazes met.

She squinted, checking out the muddy tracks on the floor. “It can’t be.” She pointed at the mud. “Those are tracks. Like the attic.”

“No way.” He leaned over and inspected. “Well...it does kind of look like it. Or it could be one of your crew came down here and tracked in mud.”

She considered it. “Maybe. But these tracks look like the big lizard dinosaur ones in the attic.”

She stood, and he did the same. Their gazes connected again. “Do you think there’s a hole down here we haven’t found yet and some escaped Godzilla is tracking through the house without us seeing?”

He moved around the tracks and examined them, as if he could find a solution to the muddy footprints.

He grinned. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

They started work on putting in the cameras. A low hum of anxiety, of feeling as if the walls wanted to take her began to build inside her as she assisted Doug.

As she watched Doug climb on a ladder to attach a camera to one wall, she heard it in her head. A whispery voice. She was prepared for the voice of self-recrimination this time. The one she lived with her whole life. A sibilant, awful tone that reminded her of slime and stickiness and the realm of a sewer. Of a malignant place she had imagined before but never seen.

She started. Looked around. In case a human had spoken. Doug appeared preoccupied.

Her name sounded scratchy. An irritating itch. She rubbed her arms as her skin crawled with cold and a building fear.

“Sybil? You okay?”

She started and realized Doug had spoken to her. She smiled, reacting on instinct to cover the crazy inside her head.

“I’m great,” she said.

He frowned, and she could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe her. It felt like he could see straight through her into the lie. To all the lies she’d ever told anyone.

“We’re all done,” he said.

As he led the way out of the cellar, she heard another voice in her head. It was the tone she was used to dogging her.

Sybil, you are a coward. Such a coward. You lied again. Told a fib.

Once up top, she closed and locked the cellar door and stepped away from it.

“Well, that’s done. Thank you so much,” she said.

“My pleasure.” His eyes held genuine warmth. “I’ll update Clarice. Are we still on for this evening at the diner?”

“Of course.”

“Is six still good?”

“What about five? I’m always starving by then.”

He glanced at his watch. “Perfect. Works for me.”

Letisha came down the stairs right then. “Done already? That was pretty quick.”

Doug grinned as Letisha walked up to them. “Wasn’t too complicated. I’ll see myself out. Later.”

When the front door closed, and he was out of earshot, Letisha thew Sybil one of those grins Sybil’s grandfather used to call “shit eating.”

“So?” Letisha asked as her smile widened.

Sybil’s face heated. “So how are you?” Sybil asked. “You look much better.”

“Thank God. I’m way behind. Don’t change the subject, though.”

“ What subject?”

“I saw how you looked at Doug as he left.” Letisha’s grin widened. “I don’t blame you. He’s hot.”

“I wasn’t looking at him in a special way.”

“Liar. You want to eat him up.”

Sybil rolled her gaze. “You’re full of crap.”

“Fair enough.”

Sybil knew she needed to tell Letisha about her father. “Hey, I need to tell you about my father.”

Letisha’s brows lowered, clear concern registering in her eyes. Sybil rarely talked about him.“Okay What about him?”

Sybil gave her the down and dirty about her conversation with her mother and saw her friend’s expression run from surprised to perturbed.

“I can’t believe your mom doesn’t get how you feel about your sperm donor,” Letisha said. “Are you going to tell Maria and Pauline about this later?”

Sybil rubbed her left arm, unsettled. “Probably. Better for them to know the lay of the land. I mean, why not.”

Letisha gently pressed Sybil’s right shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. If you want to hash it over more later, I’m here for you.”

Tears welled in Sybil’s eyes for a moment, but she ruthlessly pushed them back. She didn’t have time for waterworks. “I appreciate it.”

Letisha cleared her throat. “Good. Hey, there’s something else before I forget. I went to check on Maria because I hadn’t seen her in a while. She wasn’t in her room, and there was an empty bottle of whisky on her bedstand, of all places.”

“I’m right here.” Maria walked from the direction of the office, her expression perturbed.

“Can we talk, Maria?” Letisha said without missing a beat.

Maria looked disconcerted as she glanced around the Great Hall. Her hair tumbled in a mess around her face. She usually had it tied back when working.

“Can we talk somewhere more private?” Maria asked. “Like back in the office?”

All three of them entered the office. Letisha sat in the chair behind the desk, while Sybil remained standing, and so did Maria.

Maria cleared her throat. “I haven’t been drinking. I was in here finishing some dusting that Pauline missed. Last time I was in here, I realized she hadn’t done everything. I thought I’d get it done and no one would need to know. I didn’t want Pauline to get in deep shit with you guys.”

Sybil frowned, a little startled by Maria’s unusual vehemence. Sybil and Letisha exchanged glances.

“Now that there are security cameras in all the downstairs rooms except for the bathrooms, we’ll be able to see if we’re all working where and when we need to,” Letisha said.

Maria wrinkled her nose, then looked at Sybil. “He didn’t put cameras in the bathrooms, right?”

Sybil laughed softly. “Oh hell, no.”

“About the empty bottle of whiskey,” Letisha said as she rubbed the back of her neck. “What’s that about?”

Maria sighed. “Yeah. Well, I brought a half bottle with me and thought about drinking it. Instead, I poured it down the sink.”

Maria huffed a little like an impatient teenager. “I wanted to but...”

Letisha leaned forward in a casual way Sybil had seen her present before. She knew the tactic. Like Sybil, she’d learned survival skills, and that included placating someone who might want to fight. Sybil knew, though, that Letisha’s came from a far different reason than hers.

“But?” Letisha asked quietly.

Maria heaved a breath. “I’m here. With a Masters in Psychology.”

Sybil frowned. Where was this going? Maria had explained when they interviewed her that she found working with people in psychology stressed her out too much. Something that had mortified her. After all, she’d thought she wanted to help people. But maybe she’d just wanted to understand them instead. She’d decided that a job like cleaning houses was a lot less stressful.

Maybe it had been. Until now.

“And?” Letisha stayed leaning forward, eager for an answer.

Maria fiddled with her silver cross necklace. She stared at the desk and the closed Alderan Cleaning Service laptop.

Maria’s eyes filled with a not too subtle fear. “This cross around my neck conflicts sometimes with the psychology graduate in me. It’s one reason this place confuses me.”

Letisha’s gaze snagged Sybil’s. As Letisha’s childhood friend, Sybil had seen that look more than once when Letisha didn’t want to deal with another person’s issues.

Sybil kicked into gear. “So the scientific part of you, the skeptical part, conflicts with your religious side. You brought the bottle because...” Sybil shrugged. “Because you already had conflicting thoughts about certain things. Then you stepped into this house and your skepticism wore away.”

Maria’s mouth dropped open for only a second before she laughed in disbelief. “Forgive me but...how do you do that?”

“Scary, ain’t it?” Letisha waggled her eyebrows. “They didn’t call her hocus pocus in school for nothing.”

Sybil took that as a compliment rather than the hurt she’d felt in high school when people had first called her hocus pocus. She also welcomed an inevitable ego stroke when she plumbed the depths of someone’s feelings and thoughts with accuracy. If she’d lied to herself, she could’ve said it all was about helping others understand themselves better. Yet that same understanding served her as well as it did them. It had taken her a long time to realize her skills were as much survival for her as they were empathy for someone else’s pain.

Her father’s condescending voice came out of the past.

You aren’t so good, are you, Sybil? No. Not so good. Not so pure.

Sybil jerked away from the thoughts. She observed the pain in Maria’s eyes, and then Sybil felt it. Sybil’s eyes stung, understanding that soul deep hurt. Maria’s eyes moistened, and Sybil witnessed that, too.

Sybil slumped in her chair a little. “Tell me...you said you don’t believe in ghosts. And your degree tells you not to believe in them now. But that cross maybe tells you they shouldn’t exist, too. Or that you should ignore them.”

Maria nodded again, this time even more emphatically. “I know you’ve all had experiences here. Unless you’re all trying to drive me out of mind, I know you’ve seen things just like I have.”

Sybil smirked. “Oh, I’ve always seen things. At least, I used to. I decided not to for a while in high school, but that didn’t last long.”

“True story,” Letisha said.

Maria’s unsettled expression turned frightened. “Are you saying you are psychic or something?”

Letisha said, “Or something.”

Sybil threw her friend an exasperated look, then turned her attention to Maria. “Let’s deal with what you have going on right now...what are you thinking?”

Maria’s gaze bounced between Sybil and Letisha. She stopped fiddling with the cross.

“I’m a lapsed Catholic, but the upbringing lingers, even if you choose not to believe in it. Ghosts and stuff get to me. I don’t want to deal with it. But I also don’t want to mask things by drinking.”

Just the way she doesn’t want to deal with living people.

“Well, I don’t think there’s any other alcohol in the house. You don’t have any liquor” Sybil shrugged. “So you should be safe from that temptation. Everything is fine.”

“If you aren’t drinking on the job, then no problem,” Letisha said.

Maria huffed out a breath. “But if there are ghosts here, what do we do?”

Sybil pondered. She exchanged a quick glance with Letisha, who shrugged.

Sybil gave a long sigh. “Maybe nothing we can do.”

“Why not?” Maria said. “A priest maybe?”

Sybil shook her head. “I’m not sure Clarice even believes there are ghosts here. Besides that, it often won’t work if everyone in the house doesn’t believe the same thing.”

Maria’s eyes widened a bit. “Then we have to live with what’s in here?”

Letisha cleared her throat. “Is there any chance you could move on the ghosts, Sybil?”

That question completely caught Sybil off guard, and she swung her attention to her old friend. She thought for a second about how to put things into words. “In fiction, the medium can always move on the ghost. Always protect people from what’s out there. That’s not always true. Not even almost. Ghosts...souls who are visiting or hanging around are here when they wish. That may be all that’s here in this house. Not everything that goes bump in the night is evil.”

Oh, Sybil, Sybil, Sybil. You understand there’s something evil here, don’t you?

“ I called my grandparents last night and told them what is happening.” Maria’s expression held apprehension, as if she expected consequences. “When I told them about this house, though, they wanted me to quit my job and come home.”

“What?” Letisha’s voice snapped a little.

Maria returned to rubbing her the cross between her fingers.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going back to New York.” Maria’s gaze was unfocused, as recalling her past. Her gaze snapped back up to Sybil. “How do you know we can’t banish the ghosts?”

Sybil didn’t want to say it, but now the proverbial cat was out of the bag. The chips were down. Whatever cliche would fit. Stepping her toes into that water again could mean a shitstorm. It had the last time.

“Oh believe me, honey,” Letisha said to the younger woman. “She knows.”

“How?” Maria asked again.

Sybil glanced at Letisha and saw her friend’s attention glued to her. Letisha looked as curious as Maria, even though she knew the answer.

“Because I’m a medium.” There. She’d said it. “Among other things.”

Oh, Sybil. She’ll realize you are a nut bag if you explain about the things. Won’t she?

Silence covered the room. So quiet it almost hurt Sybil’s ears as much as if someone had shouted it. She flicked a gaze at Letisha again and saw the woman’s dismay. Not because Sybil had confirmed it, but because it needed to be said.

Maria’s eyes brightened a bit, and she smiled. A genuine smile that displayed disbelief and amusement at the same time.

“You’re not serious,” Maria said.

“Yeah, she is,” Letisha said matter-of-factly.

Maria blew a breath out. “Wow. Well, have you moved any ghosts on? Banished any evil spirits?”

“I’ve asked them to leave. Once. For a time they did,” Sybil said.

Maria leaned forward a little. “For how long?”

Sybil hesitated. Maria and Pauline didn’t know about Sybil’s father and the horrible things he’d done. Sybil glanced at Letisha.

Letisha’s expression held uncertainty, but also resignation. “Well…maybe we need to tell her about your family. That is…if you want to.”

Sybil drew in another deep breath and decided it was now or never.

“My father was an evil man, and there was something dark around him,” Sybil said. “Most of it was his own making. His environment when he grew up. But his evil attracted other evil. That evil brought things into my house.”

“What kind of evil?” Maria’s eyes had gone wide again.

“Things. Elementals. Things that were never human. Not all elementals are bad, but…these were.”

That’s it, Sybil, you’ve told her some. Tell her all the things.

Maria’s mouth dropped open and stayed there.

Don’t tell her all of it now. It has nothing to do with what is happening here, Sybil. You can’t tell people. You’ve seen how they react.

“But I’m not talking about all of that right now. Soon, but not right this minute,” Sybil said. “But there’s nothing that dark here, Maria. So you don’t have to be afraid.”

Liar. Liar.

Maria nodded and stood up. “Thanks for listening to me and not thinking I’m insane.”

Letisha smiled. “No problem.”

With that, Maria scampered like a frightened cat. She closed the office door behind her.

Silence held the room for a moment.

“We could have told her everything,” Letisha said. She shrugged. “But you never know how people are going to respond, right? Then we’d have to tell Pauline.”

Hide it all. Always hide it. Always hide who you are. It’s the only way to be safe.

Sybil smirked. “Then they’d start thinking I’m the crazy lady? Or that I might be infected with my father’s bad blood?”

Letisha rubbed the back of her neck. “They might. But they can get over themselves.”

Grateful, Sybil said, “Thanks for supporting me. You’re good for my self-confidence. You’re the only true friend I have who understands what happened in my past.”

Letisha nodded and looked Sybil right in the eye. “Ditto. I’m not exactly rolling in a lot of friends either. But it’s okay. We’ve got this. Even if this place is haunted…and I think we’ve established that it is, we can still finish the job, obtain the paycheck and run outta here. It’ll be fine.”

Before Sybil could speak, a knock came on the door. Letisha walked over and opened it.

Pauline stood there, looking tired but cheerful. “Hey, you guys start the party early?”

“I wish,” Letisha said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m starving and thought I’d make pizza if you guys are good with that,” Pauline said.

“Sounds good to me,” Sybil said.

“Sounds great,” Letisha echoed.

“I’ll get started,” Pauline left.

Letisha rubbed the side of her face. “I need some caffeine. We can talk about this later.”

Letisha exited, and Sybil took a moment regretting the secrets she’d revealed to Maria. True, she hadn’t told her everything, and part of her regretted it. The other didn’t. She glanced at her watch. Time to call Clarice and tell her the security install had gone well.

She reached Clarice on the first ring.

“Excellent, my dear,” Clarice’s voice sounded gravely, as if she had a head cold. She sneezed. “Just a moment. Let me grab a tissue.”

Sybil paced the library as she waited for Clarice to return. She stopped in the middle of the room, and although she’d been part of cleaning it, they still had a few more books to dust before they could call this room clean. She sat in a cozy chair near the window and looked out at the fading sunlight. Not much longer and it would be dark, and she could escape this house for a little fun and a few hours to not think about the place.

She glanced around some more, marveling at how beautiful the room was, and listening to the steady ticktock of the grandfather clock against the wall near the door. The door was closed, and she felt cozy in this place, surrounded by literature and non-fiction.

“So sorry,” Clarice’s voice returned to the phone. “Now, back to what you were telling me. Sounds like the security installation went well?”

“Very. It was quicker than we expected. We have the whole place covered.”

“Good. I just got photos of the lizard prints in the cellar from Doug. Fascinating.”

“If that’s even what they are. I don’t know how any reptile that large could be in here.”

“I don’t either. It doesn’t make the least bit of sense. But if someone is playing tricks on you all, we’ll find it with those security cameras. So I have access to the files...the film from the cameras through the computer system.”

“That’s right. Any time you want.”

“Well, I feel weird about having the cameras all around, but I guess it can’t be helped.”

“Not if we want to understand what’s happening.” Sybil didn’t say, though she wanted to, that if the ghosts were causing problems, it may not show up on cameras.

“There are so many things to understand about that house,” Clarice said.

Sybil hesitated, then found her voice. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing my dear. An old woman talking.”

Sybil rubbed the back of her neck as tension built in her entire body.

“You are one of the sharpest ladies I know. I don’t believe you’re just an old woman talking. I’d better go. There’s a place I have to be soon.”

“All right, dear. You take care and we’ll talk again soon.”

Guilt hit Sybil as they ended the call. She’d rushed out of the conversation. Yet she’d become impatient with people, tired of the complications of this job even though they hadn’t been here that long. She looked forward to having a good evening with Doug.