The Stroke of Winter(76)

“Let’s go into the drawing room,” he whispered to her. “Where the paintings are.”

They crept down the dark hall, their headlamps illuminating the way. The minute they stepped into the drawing room, a whoosh of cold air surrounded Tess.

“Do you feel that?” she whispered to Wyatt. He nodded, his eyes as big as saucers.

All at once, Tess’s EMF meter started clicking, faintly at first, but as she moved closer to the wall safe, she saw its needle hit the topmost level. She caught Wyatt’s eye for just a second and then: “Whoa! Grant! Come quick! I’ve got something!”

The furious clicking continued as Grant and Hunter rushed into the room.

“The FLIR is going crazy,” Grant said. “The temperature dropped by twenty degrees when we entered this room.”

Tess just stood there, holding her meter, not knowing what to do.

“Who are you?” Grant said, his voice loud and commanding. “Tell us who you are. What is your name?”

Nothing but the furious clicking of the meter.

“Why are you here in this place?” Grant went on.

He turned to Hunter. “Are you recording this?”

“Aye,” he whispered.

“We are here to help you,” Grant went on, turning in a circle with his arms wide. “What do you want?”

Tessssss.

Nobody else seemed to hear it. Her blood ran cold. She felt goose bumps on her arms and an icy hand running its way down her spine. She spun around with a shriek.

“Stop it!” she cried. “Stop it right now!”

“What is it?” Wyatt said, his face a combination of confusion, fear, and anger. “What happened?”

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the clicking stopped. The needle on Tess’s EMF meter dropped back to zero, and the chill was gone.

“Something touched me,” Tess whispered.

Wyatt shot Grant a look. “I think we should just stop—”

“It’s okay,” Grant interjected. “Calm down. It’s really okay. This is what we’re here for, remember? To make contact. You just did.”

Tess took a few deep breaths. “I guess you’re right,” she said, a tear escaping from one of her eyes. She brushed it away. “Did anyone else hear my name?”

The men looked at each other.

“No,” Grant said. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Wyatt shook his head. “I didn’t, either.”

“Somebody rewind your tape,” Grant said.

Wyatt pressed the rewind button on his voice recorder. And there it was. As clear as a bell.

“Why are you here in this place?”

“Are you recording this?”

“Aye.”

“We are here to help you. What do you want?”

Tessssss.

Tess clutched Wyatt’s arm as Grant’s eyes grew wide.

“That was definite,” he said. “We all heard the same thing, right? Tess’s name.”

Everyone nodded.

“But what does it mean?” Wyatt asked. “Do they want Tess? Or do they want to talk to Tess? Two very different things.”

“We don’t know yet,” Grant said.

Wyatt turned to her. “I think we should get you out of here,” he said.

That sounded like a very good idea to Tess. But Grant broke in to squelch that idea.

“No,” Grant said, turning to Tess. “Listen, this is your house and your haunting, and now we know for sure that you’re at the center of it. If we want to figure out what is going on and put a stop to it, you’re going to have to be here.”

Tess’s stomach dropped. He was right. “I’ll stay, as much as I don’t want to,” she said.

“I don’t think—” Wyatt began. But Tess stopped his words.

“The whole point is to put an end to this so I can get some peace around here and make the place habitable for guests,” she said. “I want to run my own inn. That’s what I want to do with my life. This is my house. I don’t think I have a choice. Without getting some answers, this isn’t going to stop on its own.”

“It will get worse on its own, guaranteed,” Grant said. “Once a haunting progresses to this level . . . it’s not going away without some intervention.” Turning to Wyatt, he continued. “We’re all here. Nothing is going to happen to her.”

Tess looked around. They weren’t all there. Where was Jane?

“Jane’s not here,” Tess said. At the thought of it, a darkness seemed to surround Tess, a feeling that something was lurking and waiting, and Jane was with it.

“Oftentimes, she goes off on her own,” Hunter said, breaking Tess’s train of thought. “I think we should check the rest of the downstairs and then head up to the studio.”

They left the drawing room and moved on, splitting into pairs, Grant and Hunter going one way, Tess and Wyatt the other. They walked slowly through the living room, devices in hand. Tess noticed hers was shaking. But the needle on her EMF was still at zero. No activity at all.

“Anybody getting anything?” Grant called out.

“Nothing here,” Wyatt called back.

They met at the bottom of the front staircase. Grant nodded to the group, and they started up, each of them holding out their various recording devices in front of them. Tess noticed Hunter stopped midway and pointed his video camera back down the stairs, recording what was behind them. Following them? Tess shivered at the thought of it.