The Reason (10 page)

We follow her down a long hallway of freshly shined hardwood floors. Portraits of famous Radissonians hang on the walls on either side of us. They seem to be judging me, like I've done something wrong. I suppress the urge to flip them off.

"There y'all are," Celia says. She's decked out in dark jeans, a sweatshirt, and her ghost-hunting vest with the kazillion pockets so she can carry everything with her at once and have it at a moment's notice. "We've got the base camp set up in the kitchen. Becca's got digital recorders all over the place, and Loreen's got the Ovilus with her for us to try."

"Hi, Kendall," Mayor Shy says as she walks into the room holding cans of sodas. Her long blond mane is pulled back into a straight ponytail, and an Atlanta Braves baseball cap is on her head. "I'm quite excited about tonight. It's been an interesting day here."

"How so?" I ask.

Shelby-Nichole pokes herself into the circle. "Donn's assistant left the house screaming today, saying she'd never work here again."

"That sounds odd."

Celia pulls out a small notebook and pen. "Can you give me more details, Mayor?"

"Yeah, sure. Her name is Susan Cummings and she's about so tall with dark blond hair and—" The mayor stops when Celia holds up her hand.

"No, ma'am, I meant, can you give me more details on the 'interesting' part of the day and why Ms. Cummings won't work here anymore."

Donn peels off her glasses and attends to a smudge on one lens with the end of her fitted shirt. When she plunks the spectacles back on her nose, she looks Celia square in the face. "It's quite simple. Ms. Cummings said something tried to push her down the front stairs and it scared the life out of her."

"Did you see anything?" I ask.

"No, I was out tending my roses," the mayor says.

"I saw something."

All eyes turn to Shelby-Nichole, who stands a foot away.

"What's that, dear?" Donn asks.

"Susan was at the top of the stairs and it was as if she tripped. I saw her catch herself on the railing and then she bolted down the stairs. I asked her what was up and she said she heard a voice snarling in her ear."

"What did it snarl at her?" Celia asks.

Shelby-Nichole gulps down hard, then says, "Revenge."

Donn laughs. "That's just silly, Shelby-Nichole. I'm sure Susan's departure from the mansion today had more to do with her catching her fiancé in bed with that redheaded waitress who works at Café au Lait than with ghosts." Celia, Taylor, and I gasp in unison. "Now, y'all didn't hear that from me."

"Anything you tell us in the course of the investigation is private," Taylor assures her. "Much like the patient-doctor confidentiality."

"All right, then," Donn says. "When can we get started?"

I take a quick peek at my watch and see that it's nearly midnight. Ahh ... the witching hour, when things that go bump in the night like to come out and play. Or at least that seems to be the case for us during our investigations.

Becca's running a sound check of her equipment and making sure there are plenty of batteries in the voice recorders while Celia inspects the infrared cameras she has set up throughout the manor. Taylor's got her IR camera around her neck and is adjusting the F-stop readings when I approach her from behind.

"Hey, Tay," I say in a whisper, trying not to startle her.

She spins around with a half smile on her face. I can tell the old Taylor is there wanting to burst out with some sort of sassy French colloquialism. The harsh reality is that the scared Taylor is the one showing her face, pretending that nothing is hurting her and she can go about like nothing's wrong. "Cameras are ready to go," she reports.

I simply pat her on the back and rub, letting her know I'm her friend and here for her.

"Where's Loreen?" I ask Celia.

"She's upstairs in the attic getting a feel for the place. Do you want to go up there?"

The attic ... where I saw the apparition in the window. Sooner or later I'll have to find out who or what that is. Why not sooner?

"Donn, may we start the investigation in the attic?"

She steps forward. "Be my guest, Kendall."

We all follow the mayor up the winding front staircase, through the second story, and back to the rear of the house, where she opens a small door. Behind it is a tiny wooden staircase leading up to the attic area. I can hear Loreen moving around up there already.

Clump-clump, clump-clump, clump-clump.

It's like the sound of a ballet slipper scraping against the floor; a mixture of soft and hard.

"Loreen?" I call out.

"Up here, Kendall."

At the top of the landing, I see Loreen sitting on the floor cross-legged with candles surrounding her. "Weren't you just walking around?"

She indicates no with her head.

"I heard that," Taylor said. "It sounded like footsteps."

Shelby-Nichole sighs. "I hear that all the time. I'm telling you, it's just best to ignore it."

Celia scowls at our hostess's stepdaughter. "You can't ignore anything when you're investigating. The point is to make a note of everything you see, feel, and/or hear, so you can debunk it or label it as paranormal."

"Oh, sure, I understand." Shelby-Nichole moves into the background and quietly watches.

I slide onto the floor next to Loreen and gaze into her face. She's not in any kind of trance, but she seems watchful of ... something.

"What are you sensing?"

Loreen twitches her mouth. "I don't want to say. You should come into this with no front-loading."

"What's front-loading?" Taylor asks as she takes a seat next to me.

Celia sits too. "It's having too much knowledge up front about the place you're investigating, to the point where it can cloud your opinions or judgments. That's why I try not to tell Kendall too much about our cases before we get into them."

Everyone comes together in the attic, an we all sit in a circle. Loreen is to my left, Taylor on my right. Next to her is Celia, Becca, Jason, Shelby-Nichole, and Donn. Loreen breaks out the Ovilus, this round electronic disk with two rows of lights up the middle, and sets it on the floor; it's hooked up to a small set of RadioShack speakers that Celia brought. The device clicks on, runs through its start-up and then settles down. Loreen explained to me earlier that we can ask questions of it and it will answer.

"Are there any spirits here with us tonight?" Loreen asks.

The red lights on the Ovilus shine out. "Yes," the computerized voice says.

"How many spirits are here?"

"Girl."

"Who is the girl?" Loreen continues.

"Shunned ... shunned ... shunned," the Ovilus says.

Celia's mouth drops open. "I read that it's programmed
not
to repeat words!"

"Shh," Becca says. She holds one of her digital recorders out close to the speaker. "Keep going, Loreen."

"Who was shunned?" she asks. "Sad."

"Someone was sad?"

"Secret. Sad. Lock."

Taylor snaps a few pictures as Celia continues to take notes. I'm riveted by this little device that picks up on energy around us and translates it into words.

"What lock?" I ask.

"Death. Death. Death."

"There it goes, repeating again," Celia says excitedly.

"Tell us about the lock. Was someone locked up here in this attic?"

"Yes. Lock. Death."

Ugh ... I wish it would just tell me what I want to know. "Can you be more specific?"

"Secret."

"Who's secret?" Loreen asks.

"Kill. Mother. Now."

The words in the strident, computerized voice chill me.

"Kill. Fall. You."

"Who is you?" I ask.

"You. You. You."

Loreen's gaze touches mine. "I don't like this. I think we should end the investigation."

"No," I beg. "We're getting somewhere with this."

Taylor shudders next to me. "I'm with Loreen. I don't like where this is going."

"Mayor Shy?" Celia asks. "What do you think? Was someone's mother killed in this house?"

She adjusts the bill of her cap. "I don't rightly know. I'm sure that
someone
must have passed on in this house over the many years. Mayer had his attack here before dying at the hospital. Mayer, honey, are you with us?"

"Push. Hurt. Blood."

"Daddy? Is that you?" Shelby-Nichole adds.

"No."

"It's someone else," Loreen confirms. Her face flattens into a grimace and she shudders. Her hands wrap around her upper arms and she rocks back and forth slightly. "I don't like where this is going. Something's not right."

I decide to speak to this spirit like I converse with Emily. In my head, I say,
Whoever you are, if there's anything we can help you with, please let us know. We're not here to harm you. We just want to understand you. My name is Kendall and I'm a psychic. I can feel your pain and hear your voice. You can use me to talk to the rest of the group.

In my head, I hear Emily gasp.
You shouldn't have said that!

Ruh-roh.
Maybe not the right words.

While Loreen and I have talked a lot about channeling spir its, I've never actually tried to do it. It's not exactly something one can practice. I know that I have to open up and allow a spirit to flow through me, but I've always been too chickenshit to try it. I don't think I have a choice now. Something itches at the back of my neck. A tapping, if you will, of someone wanting to come in. Should I let them? How can I keep them away if I've already said they could use me? I mean, I was talking about, like, whispering in my ear and letting me interpret ... not...

I spread my hands out in front of me and I can ... see through my fingers like they're made of glass. Whoa! What's happening here? Even though I know I'm sitting, I'm not. I'm standing and backing away from myself into a smoky mist behind me. This is freaky! Suddenly, the sun is shining and the sky is bluer than Jason's eyes ever thought of being. I'm almost floating in the air, over a green mountain covered with kudzu. The peak gives way to a valley filled with yellow and white daffodils, like it's the height of spring. I know it's February here in Radisson, and I didn't think the flowers would bloom this early. Where am I? Am I still in town?

No ... I'm at the beach. A beautiful white beach. The water is the color of a swimming pool, and the sand looks like grains of sugar. Where is this beach and how did I get here? I touch my toe into the foamy surf and find the water clean and cool to the touch. Slowly, I draw myself into the ocean and sit, feeling the liquid surround me with loving arms, lapping at my bare feet. The smell of salt tickles my nose and I'm hungry for a gigantic seafood dinner. Mmm ... flounder, scallops, shrimp, and lobster.

Over to the left, a school of dolphins frolic in the water, breaking the surface with their fins and tails as if to welcome me, then diving down into the crystal water. I reach out to the precious babies—okay, they're babies to me—but they're too far away. Their elegance and grace astounds me as I feel my heart pound away in my chest with excitement and glee. This is the most relaxing and happy place I've ever been in my life. There's not a care in the world. I'm safe. I'm secure. But where is here?

Have I died?

Ouch! Who just hit me?

And now with the shaking?

What's going on? Who's...?

"Kendall! Come back to us!" Loreen shouts.

I slowly open my eyes and squint into the flashlight Celia is beaming into my face. "Shit, Celia ... thanks for blinding me."

"Are you okay, Kendall?" she asks. Her brows are knit together in worry.

Someone's rubbing my forehead, petting me, almost. A big, strong hand. Of course, it's Jason.

He glares down at me, rage steaming off him. "I swear to God, Kendall. Don't you
ever
frickin' do that again!"

"D
ON'T DO
WHAT
AGAIN
?" I manage to ask, my throat dry and achy.

Celia looks like she's just come off a roller-coaster ride. "Holy crappity-crap, Kendall—you just channeled a spirit!"

Shiitake on a shingle. I did what?

Loreen moves closer. "Are you okay, hon?"

The fog surrounding my brain starts to lift and I feel myself coming out of some sort of trance. Celia's about to smack me again when my eyes pop wide open and connect with hers. "Enough with the abuse," I say with a slight giggle, trying to make light of whatever just happened.

"Are you back, Kendall?" Loreen asks with great distress.

"Did I go somewhere?" Oh, wait ... wasn't I at the beach? That was merely a dream though ... wasn't it? I'm obviously going insane once and for all.

"You were channeling, Kendall," Loreen explains to me. "Can you tell me what you remember?"

Jason helps me sit up and I lean into his strong chest as he continues to hold me. I rub my head and try to re-create whatever went on. I tell Loreen and my friends about the peaceful beach and how I floated away.

"I don't remember anything specific other than I just seemed to step back from myself."

"How could you do that, Kendall?" Taylor asks. "You allowed a spirit to take hold of you!"

Jason shakes me. "I'm serious as a heart attack. Don't
ever
pull that again."

"I didn't know I was doing it. I mean, I was talking to the spirit in my head and I guess I sort of gave it permission to use me."

Loreen takes my hand and holds on tightly. "You did it, though, Kendall. You allowed the spirit to control you. I had no idea you were ready for that."

Neither did I. Sweat dots my brow. I feel like I've been rode hard and put away wet. Sorry, horse term I picked up from watching the equestrian dressage during the last Olympics.

What is wrong with me? I just channeled a frickin' dead person!

Celia's still on her knees in front of me waving her hands to fan me. "I want to know all about it. Every single detail."

"I-I was floating ... it was so peaceful and serene."

Celia rolls her eyes. "That's all you're giving me?"

I explain what I experienced, but I want to know what was happening while I was ... er ... away.