Lucky Stars (Ghosts and Reincarnation #5)(163)

“I know you probably think it’s weird that I told you that about, well, Belle Abbot and James Bennett but, I don’t know. I think it’s important. Because, at the time, I thought I was dreaming about them. It felt weird because, you know, they were from another time and everything. Like, they didn’t look like them, really, but still… they were. Then, bang! They’re in the paper and they’re together. It really freaked me out.”

“As I suspect it would,” Mickey muttered, seeking patience. “What else? Most important, what did you dream?”

“Okay, now, I know this all sounds bizarre –”

“How about this,” he cut her off. “Just assume I won’t think it’s bizarre. All right? You don’t know me but rest assured, I’ve seen and heard a lot, Ms. Richardson, so just tell me your story and don’t worry what I think about it. Yes?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Then, well, okay, so you won’t think it’s bizarre when I say it isn’t like these dreams are dreams. It’s like they’re, well… memories.”

Bloody f**king hell.

“Go on,” he urged.

“The thing is, there’s another man.”

Good Christ.

“And…” Mickey prompted.

“And he’s with a woman. And I see them. They don’t see me. I think, well, it’s crazy but I think I’m like a servant or something. And they don’t see me or they don’t care that I’m around. I exist but I’m not important. But, and Mr. Dempsey, this is disturbing as well as weird and it’s the reason I went to Dr. Holmes. I asked around, who to talk to because I’m scared to go to sleep, it’s that disturbing. And this is because, first, okay, I know you said don’t say anything is crazy but this is. See, she’s a witch. An… actual… hocus pocus witch. And worse,” she cried, warming to her theme, “they’re plotting a murder. The murder of two children and a woman. And the woman’s name is Brenna.”

By the time she was finished, Mickey had thrown money on the bar and was on his way to the door.

“Ms. Richardson,” he said into his phone as he made his way across the pub toward the door that would lead him to the driving rain outside, “start at the beginning, don’t leave anything out, don’t hesitate and tell me everything.”

Twenty minutes later, Mercy Richardson had told Mickey Dempsey everything.

Five minutes after that, when Dempsey was unable to get Jack Bennett on the phone, he called a mate of his who was a pilot and he pulled in a favour.

Five minutes after that, he was headed to the airstrip.

* * * * *

Jack

“Poppet, have you seen my phone?” Jack called as he entered his and Belle’s room at The Point.

“No,” she called back through the closed door to the bathroom.

Jack stopped in the room and looked around.

Something was wrong and it was more than the something he’d felt was wrong the entirety of the six weeks since they dispelled Caldwell’s spirit from Miles and even more than the something that had been nagging his gut all day.

As he took in their room, it hit him.

The dogs were not there.

This wasn’t unusual but it was rare. If they weren’t with him then they were with Belle. Or, oftentimes, Baron was with him and Gretl was with Belle.

But usually one or the other of them were close.

“If you need a phone, honey, mine’s in my bag on the bed,” Belle continued to talk through the door.

Jack moved to her bag on the bed, seeing some of the contents scattered over the duvet as he called out to Belle, “Do you know where the dogs are?”

“They’re not with you?”

That nag in his gut clawed deeper as Jack sorted through her stuff on the bed and in her bag but found no phone.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, rounding the bed and pulling the house phone from its charger as he called back, “No, they’re not with me.”

He wasn’t surprised when he hit the on button on the phone, put it to his ear and found it dead. He wasn’t surprised because five minutes before when he’d been unable to locate his mobile, he’d tried this in his study.

His eyes moved to the windows to see the rain driving against the panes.

And he wasn’t surprised the house phone was dead because it happened often during storms.

They were due to meet the others in the drawing room shortly for pre-dinner drinks so he gave up on making a call that could wait but was about to go in search of the dogs when the door to the bathroom opened and Belle walked out.

Jack stopped dead and stared.

She was wearing a flowing, full-length gown of smoky, dark grey, the colour and fabric rich, striking and perfect for her.

One shoulder was bared, the dress held up over her other shoulder with a thick twist of the fabric that gathered the material tight across her chest and midriff, drawing attention to the sleek line of her neck, the elegant drape of her shoulders and the delicate length of her collarbone. The full, fluid fall of her skirt dropped to her feet which were encased in spike-heeled, black satin sandals with fragile-looking straps, the ones over her red-painted toes embedded with rhinestones.

Her glorious hair was pulled up from her neck and away from her face but fat curls dangled from the arrangement and there were thick tendrils resting against the long line of her neck.