Daughters of the Lake(87)

“Well, I know one thing,” Simon said, pushing himself to his feet and walking to the sideboard to pour himself a Scotch. “We can’t have that hateful shrew up there wreaking havoc with our new ballroom. What if it happens when it’s full of guests? I just won’t have it, Kate. She has to go.”

“Agreed,” Kate said, setting the washcloth on the end table and joining him at the sideboard, her stomach tightening. “But how in the world do we go about getting her out of here?”

“Getting who out of where?” It was Jonathan, along with Nick, back from their tour of the house.

“Did you find anything?” Kate asked, knowing that what had just happened was not the result of a break-in.

Nick shook his head. “This place is tight as a drum. There’s no way anyone got in or out, unless they walked through the front door. And we’d have seen or heard them if they did.”

Kate shot Simon a look. “Then I think you guys had better sit down,” she said.



An hour later, Kate and Nick were walking in clockwise circles through the ballroom, carrying a smoldering bunch of sage, which was giving off a thick, aromatic smoke.

Kate had explained her previous paranormal experiences to Nick and Jonathan, who had jumped onto the computer to research “how to get a ghost out of your house.” He found a treasure trove of ghost-busting information, and they decided to use it all.

While Kate and Nick were dealing with the sage, Jonathan was spreading salt across the doorways, windowsills, and stairs leading to the third floor, and Simon was anointing those same areas with oil. Kate would’ve preferred to have Alaska by her side, but she decided to keep the dog downstairs, away from the smoke, the salt, and the oil.

When they had done it all, Kate looked around the room. “Now what?” she said.

“This one’s new to me, kids,” Nick said, shrugging.

“Is this all there is to it?” Simon wanted to know. “Are we supposed to do anything else?”

Jonathan was squinting at the screen on his phone. “It says here we should address her. The spirit.”

“Address her?” Simon furrowed his brow.

“Talk directly to her,” Jonathan said, still looking at the phone. “Tell her what you want.”

“Just like that? Evict her like a troublesome houseguest?”

Jonathan looked up. “That’s what it says here.”

“I think it should be you,” Simon whispered loudly to Kate.

“Me?”

Simon pointed to her forehead. “You’re the one experiencing all of this weirdness. It’s all directed at you, Kate. You need to be the one to tell her to go.”

She knew he was right. “Okay,” she said. “Here goes.” Kate cleared her throat. “Great-Grandmother Celeste Connor, who lived and died in this house, please leave us in peace. We’ve put a lot of work into restoring this house to the beautiful mansion you built. Please know that we will honor your memory in this place.”

She shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Kate looked around the room.

“Does anybody feel anything?” Kate asked. “Any presence at all?”

“Like I said, this is new to me,” Nick said. “I’m still thinking about a real-life intruder, if you want to know the truth.”

Jonathan and Simon exchanged a glance. “I don’t feel anything,” Simon said. “Is she gone, do you think?”

“No idea,” Jonathan said, putting a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “But maybe we should call it a night.”

As Kate flipped off the main light switch and the foursome descended the stairs for the second time that evening, nobody noticed Harrison sitting on the turret steps, his arm around a young Hadley’s shoulders.

“Sage, smudging.” Harrison sighed. “If only it were as simple as that, Hadley, my dear.” He shook his head. “I think it’s time we call in the big guns. Death hasn’t changed her at all. She’s still as stubborn as she always was.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Kate opened her eyes with a start and took in a quick breath. What was that noise? Scratching? She sat up and listened, but all she heard was the soft hiss of the steam radiators, which had come to life because of the chill in the air.

She looked around the room—nothing was amiss. The fire that Simon had set in her room’s fireplace had burned down, and all that was left now were gently glowing coals casting a soft light around the bedroom and strange shadows on the walls.

Her door was slightly ajar. Alaska, she thought. Sometimes the dog nosed out of the room at night in search of her water dish or to patrol the house, both of which were fine with Kate.

Nick was sleeping in the next room. When they had finished “ghost-busting,” he had called the precinct and asked a squad on duty to watch the house, still convinced a real-life intruder had trashed the ballroom. As he was readying to go, Kate tugged on his jacket and asked if he would spend the night.

Nick looked slightly stunned. “I thought we were taking it slow.”

Kate laughed, and Simon and Jonathan muffled their own chuckles. “I wasn’t giving you keys to the fantasy suite,” she said. “I was just thinking we all might feel safer tonight with a big, strong policeman under our roof.”