Ghost of a Promise (2 page)

A steady stream of guests meant she
’
d never be lonely.

She sighed and started walking the two blocks east toward the mansion. She could all but see the puff of smoke her dreams went up in.

Pulling out her cell, she dialed Casey. Maybe her best friend would have some ideas. If nothing else, she
’
d offer support. Lord knew she needed all the support she could get.

“
How did it go?
”
her friend asked, by way of greeting.

Ava glanced at her feet and told her what happened at the reading. This was followed by a long pause.

“
I
’
m sorry.
”

“
You
’
ve got three sons. You know how to disinfect a cell phone and get magic marker out of polyester, and that
’
s all you
’
ve got?
”

A clamoring of screeching came from the background.
“
Go outside if you insist on torturing your brother. I can
’
t hear Auntie Ava.
”

“
What do I do, Casey?
”

This was answered by wailing and crying. By the sound of it, it came from her youngest.
“
Light sabers are not to smack your brother with.” She sighed.
“
I
’
ll need to think about it. I can
’
t come up with anything right now. The kids are wild today. Dan
’
s parents are popping in for a visit.
”

Which meant Casey was trying to clean house faster than the boys could disrupt it to impress the in-laws. She didn’t need to pile more on her friend’s plate.
“
I
’
ll call you later. Thanks, Casey. Kiss the boys for me.
”

“
Throttle them? Sure. On it. Oh, and Ava?
”

“
Yeah?
”
She laughed.

“
It
’
ll be okay. I promise.
”

She said good-bye and hung up, grateful for the one person in her corner. She glanced around. No one appeared to be listening. Most of the town seemed to be getting a jump on holiday shopping.

At the end of the cul-de-sac, only wide enough for two cars to pass, she crossed the narrow street and opened the ten-foot wrought-iron gate blocking the drive and walked through. She hadn
’
t bothered locking it when she left, but she was in the habit of closing it. Saltwater was strong in the brisk air from just on the other side of the jagged cliffs, where the mansion resided. The roar of the waves hitting rock soothed her nerves.

Ava drew in a deep breath to compose herself as she strode up the long brick-laid driveway. Leaves crunched beneath her feet as she made her way around the house to the back door.

“
I
’
m home.
”
Her voice echoed off the kitchen walls.

Not that anyone was there to hear her. She lived alone now that Aunt Lois was gone, but it was a habit her great-aunt abided by to announce herself when stepping inside the house.
Mustn’t spook the spirits
, she’d said.

Be that as it may, she never felt alone in the house. Even now, she sensed something with her, watching. Not an uneasy feeling, as it seemed maternal. Loving. The only peace she got was inside this massive tower of a house. And now it could be taken away. Just like that.

Without haste, she dropped her keys on the counter and walked straight through the house toward the library. After booting up the computer, she sat down to formulate a plan to save her family home.

Chapter Two

Jackson Granger tore his gaze away from the late autumn scenery whizzing past the passenger window when the two-way radio on the console crackled to life. They were on their way to the Trumble mansion to investigate their last location for the year, something he still couldn’
t fathom to save his life.

“
You guys there?
”
Elise asked through the walkie. Her rental car trailed the second van holding the equipment. As the producer, she was never on camera and rarely stayed on location past the first day, hence the rental.

He picked up the radio.
“
Yep. Go ahead, then.
”

“
Okay, we
’
re twenty miles outside Kerrick. Go through the preliminary filming and usual routine.
”

“
On it.
”

As the host and lead investigator for the TV show,
Phantoms
, Jackson was used to the routine after five hit seasons. Having the same crew all five years, they were so comfortable with one another they were like an extended family. Heck, they saw each other more than their own families.

He flipped on the mounted dashboard camera then unbuckled himself to switch on the dome camera mounted above the center-row seats. “
Ready, then?
”

His team nodded.

Paul, their historian and researcher, started telling the crew about the Trumble mansion. This was something they did before every investigation to tease the audience and inform the crew. They were supposed to ask questions and look surprised.

Unlike other paranormal investigation shows,
Phantoms
used the best elements of every competitor and took it a step further. The
Phantoms
crew didn’
t merely stay in a location for a few hours or a night. They were on location for two to four weeks, depending on the circumstances.

He didn
’
t envy the directors, producers, or editing team. The crew didn
’
t have it easy either. They were only allowed off the months of December and July. On occasion they were permitted to take a weekend here or there, but that was rare.

His contract was up next month in December and the network was hounding him to sign a renewal. For some unfathomable reason, he
’
d been holding back. At almost thirty-two, he had an apartment in New York, a mum in Denver, and a father in London he almost never saw. Did he want to settle down, maybe use his degree and work a real job? It would be nice to go out in public without being accosted by adoring fans. Women, mostly.

Kerry, one of their investigators, tucked a stray piece of long, blonde hair behind her ear.
“
So, who owns the house now?
”

They knew all this, of course, but they got so used to repeating themselves on camera it was like breathing.

Paul replied,
“
The great-grandniece, Ava Trumble. She contacted us because of the numerous disturbances.
”

Appearing to look interested, Jackson let his mind wander. How fitting the Trumble mansion might be his last case. He
’
d been dying to get into that house since his first season. Several times removed, he was a distant relative of the Kerricks, for which the town was named. The Trumbles were tied to the Kerrick history, and he was curious to see how that family viewed his after two-hundred-and-thirty-seven years, to be exact.

No one else knew his connection.

“
Right. This should be fun.
”
He deepened his British accent for the camera.

He lived with his mum growing up, but eventually after the divorce she
’
d moved them from London to Denver. As a young lad, he
’
d spent summers and one week of winter break with his dad across the pond, so he
’
d never really lost his accent. The American public loved it, so the producers demanded he use it on camera. It didn
’
t bother him too greatly. It helped, keeping that one small piece of his father.

Every member of their team had been chosen with care. From their psychic, Lee, to Paul, their historian, each person was screened thoroughly and given several trial runs before being locked in to a contract.
Phantoms
producers hand-picked people who were attractive, poised, and educated. Part of this was to portray legitimacy. The rest was to hook viewers for a long time. It worked.

Sammy, one of their investigators and Jackson’
s good friend, pulled the van around a cul-de-sac to a large iron gate and paused, as she knew to do for dramatic flair.

“
Bloody hell,
”
muttered Jackson, on cue.

“
Yeah,
”
Sammy agreed in awe.
“
This place is amazing.
”

An odd, faint pulling tugged at his chest, drawing him forward. A sense of peace and home slammed into him with such force his eyes welled. He braced his palms on the dashboard, embarrassed they were shaking, and tried to make sense of the emotional onslaught. He’d never been here before. In fact, he’d never been to Maine. Yet everything seemed familiar. Right.

Sammy drove ahead slowly and parked the van at the end of the long driveway on the south side of the house. The team got out and stretched.

He shook his head to clear it, and turned off the cameras before joining them. Their techs, Amir and Terrance, stood next to him on the front lawn under a bare birch, staring at the mansion.

The house was a Greek Revival style, though he was pretty sure it predated the popularity in design. Before joining
Phantoms
, he’
d earned his degree in architecture from Colorado State. He appreciated the structure
’
s history and beauty.

Pedimented gable. Heavy cornice. Wide, plain frieze. The place was spectacular and well-maintained, considering. Someone loved this house an awful lot. The exterior was white clapboard, with a wide veranda and three columns on either side of the entry porch. He was confident the columns were original limestone. Without even stepping foot inside, he knew the interior would be a square floor plan.

“
The pictures don
’
t do it justice.
”
Paul pushed his wire-framed glasses up with a finger.

A woman emerged from the front door and stood at the edge of the porch with her arms crossed. Wild, curly auburn hair was barely contained in a clip at the back of her head. Her heart-shaped face made her eyes seem huge, but he couldn
’
t make out their color from this distance. She wore a fitted black turtleneck under an open beige cardigan, which came to her knees, and faded jeans covered long,
long
legs. The black leather ankle boots seemed to give her even more height.

Lord, she was beautiful. Heat pooled in his gut, and it wasn’t just attraction. Something visceral and fond, a memory of sorts, spread through his core, and touched his heart.

Elise walked up to her with her hand extended, and the woman’
s smile knocked him back a step.

“
Stop drooling,
”
Sammy whispered to him.

He tore his gaze away and looked at Sammy. Her chin-length, black hair had a blue shimmer to it in this natural light, and her blue eyes were lit with mischief.

“
Shut it.
”
He grinned.
“
Let
’
s go meet her, shall we?
”

He walked over to the base of the porch steps where Elise was talking to who he hoped was Ava. Four weeks was going to be fun if that were the case. The woman was nearly at eye-level with him, and he was five-eleven. Standing this close to her, he discovered her eyes were gray. The dark, outer ring of her irises were a deep, deadly navy. Amazing.

“
Ava, this is Jackson,
”
Elise said.
“
He
’
s the host and lead investigator. You
’
ll spend the most time with him. Should you need anything after I leave, just let him know.
”

He shook Ava
’
s hand, surprised she had a firm grip. Her skin was warm despite the chilly air, and it looked like buttermilk. He wondered if it would taste that way. She had the most adorable scattering of light freckles on her nose and cheeks.

That feeling from before crept up from his chest and into the back of his head. Hot. Invasive. A memory? Déja vu, perhaps? Impossible. He’d never been here before. Never met the woman. Yet everything inside screamed that he’d found
…
everything. His fingers tightened around hers and recognition flashed in her eyes, as if she felt it as well.

Insanity.

He shook the sensation away.
“
Pleasure, luv,
”
he said, full charm on now.

Her head reared back as if she wasn
’
t expecting an accent, her lips parting in a small gasp. Didn
’
t she watch the show? Her wide gaze moved from his eyes to stare pointedly at the hand he was still holding, pink tingeing her cheeks.

“
Ava Trumble. Thanks for coming.
”
She dropped his hand and he nearly recoiled from the loss.

Elise went on,
“
These two ladies are investigators, Sammy and Kerry. The two guys over there are Amir and Terrance. They
’
re the techies. They monitor the cameras and make sure everything
’
s in working order. Paul, our historian and researcher. He
’
ll need information from you later. That just leaves Lee.
”

Ava glanced at Elise
’
s rental car where Lee waited in the passenger seat.

“
Did you prepare the house as I instructed?
”
Elise asked.

“
Yes. There are numerous family portraits hanging in the parlor, but I covered them with sheets.
”

This was so Lee could do his sweep of the house first without having anything tip him off. Lee liked to work without knowledge of their location to muddle his ability. Elise waved him over.

Lee, at sixty-one, was chosen for the show not only for his handsome, mature presence, but because of his genuine ability. Lee could hear conversations that once transpired, even from decades before, and could sense emotions from spirits. As he emerged from the car, his long strides were measured and his face pained. He
’
d hit on something already. Lee rubbed a hand over his bald head, something he did when he thought too many people were talking at once.

Ava held out her hand for Lee, but he shook his head.
“
If you don
’
t mind, I
’
d rather not. I
’
m overwhelmed as it is.
”

She seemed more confused than insulted. Jackson gave her a brief explanation of Lee
’
s ability, and she nodded. Interesting she didn
’
t appear skeptical or judgmental. On most of their cases, Lee was where people fell short of believing, as if it was easier to accept the existence of ghosts versus the ability to speak to them.

“
Okay
”—
Elise directed her attention to Ava
—“
You, Lee, and I are going to do a walkthrough of the house. You
’
ll hear him say several things, but don
’
t encourage or correct him. Don
’
t give him any information whatsoever.
”

Ava nodded.
“
No problem.
”

“
Tom will go with us. During the investigations, Tom and Earl, the cameramen, are only here to film. Consider them invisible.
”

“
Got it.
”

“
Before we do anything else, is any part of the house off-limits?
”

Ava glanced at the house and then back at Elise.
“
Um, no, not really. The third floor is where my suite is. There
’
s only a bedroom, kitchenette and bath, plus a small sitting room. I prefer no cameras in that space, if you don
’
t mind. Besides, nothing strange has ever occurred on the third floor.
”

Elise made a note on the paper on her clipboard and tucked the pen behind her ear.
“
Let
’
s get started.
”

…

Ava clasped her hands together, the tingling in her fingers from Jackson’s touch still lighting her nerves. She’d been around the spooky Trumble mansion her whole life but had never been jolted like that. Her vision had grayed and a familial sense of belonging swept around her chest. It left her rattled, on edge, and completely untrusting of him.

Or maybe that was because he was so damn good-looking. As in move the heavens, here was the angel of all angels. Flawless people made her uncomfortable. And Jackson, he didn’t have a flaw, best she could tell. He even had an accent, God save her!

She drew in a breath and focused on what she was supposed to be doing. The psychic, Lee, had walked through most of the first floor as if sleepwalking. Every so often he muttered something to the producer, Elise, who efficiently made notes. Most of it she didn’
t understand, but she stayed quiet as instructed.

They spent a great deal more time on the second floor. Right now, they were in one of the five bedrooms, the one that used to be Peter Trumble
’
s. The room was draped in navy-blue-lined wallpaper and had two paintings of lighthouses on each wall. A bureau desk, which was once rumored to belong to Sarah Kerrick, was placed under the only window.