The Ghosts Of Cragera Bay
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“Mr. Meyers.” She held out her hand to him, which he took. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. What a spectacular home. I’m sure we’ll find just the right buyer in no time.”
He doubted it. Not unless the Addams Family was in the market looking for creepier accommodations than their current residence. “I hope so.”
She flashed a brilliant smile. “I’m from Cragera Bay, you know, but have never had the opportunity to see inside Stonecliff before. This is a real thrill for me.”
You should get out more.
“I was at school with your sister, Eleri,” Stella told him. “But I was a few years ahead of her. Terrible thing she went through.”
Declan raked his hand through his hair. He didn’t like to think too much about Eleri and Brynn. Only one sister had turned up when she’d heard their father was dying, to see what she could get. The other had left the man to die alone after he’d protected her for years from the police, making him a virtual pariah in the village.
But wasn’t he just as bad, taking this property from a man he hadn’t wanted to know in life? Guilt twisted in his gut. He wished he’d asked his mother about his father before it was too late. Maybe then he wouldn’t be dealing with all these conflicting emotions now.
“About the house,” he prodded.
Stella’s face reddened. “Yes, of course. Is there somewhere we can sit down? I’d like to discuss some potential strategies, then you can show me around.”
“Sure.”
Declan led her into the study, sat behind the heavy wood desk while she settled on one of the chairs opposite him.
“As you can imagine, finding comparable houses to a property like Stonecliff is difficult. Still, a property this size, and on the water, makes it fairly desirable.”
Declan perked up a little. It was the best news he’d had since he’d arrived. “Really?”
She nodded and tilted her head, eyes squinting a little. “Unfortunately, the estate’s history will have a large impact on the price.”
“I have no issue listing under market value.” Hell, if he didn’t need the money at all he’d give the thing away, donate it to some worthy cause.
She flashed a brilliant smile. “We’ll discuss price after I’ve had a chance to look at the house. Can you tell me the state of the electrical, plumbing, if there’s been reconstruction work done and when?”
“I have that information here.” He pushed the stack of paper Warlow had put together for him across the desk.
“Perfect.” Stella slipped the pages into a folder and took a spiral notebook from her bag. “You currently have staff?”
“A butler and a housekeeper. They’ll remain here to run the house when I go back to the States at the end of the week.” At least until the money ran out and he had nothing left to pay them with.
She made a note in her book. “Good, having someone here to keep the house in good condition will help to sell quickly. Now, there is a second dwelling on the property that I’m not sure you’re aware of, Morehead Lodge.” She tapped her pen on her notepad. “I know the house has been let in the past. I’d like to suggest severing the property and selling it separately.”
According to Hugh, Stonecliff had been a much larger estate, stretching down the coast and even onto the opposite side of the road. Over the years Arthur James had parceled off the property to live on the proceeds. Even this past summer, his father had sold off tenanted properties he’d owned in Beaumaris, and the money from those sales was keeping Stonecliff running now—and there wasn’t much left, maybe enough to keep the lights on until Christmas if they were careful.
“Even priced under market value Stonecliff could take some time to find the right buyer. The estate is isolated, large and old. You are already dealing with a limited market. Trying to find someone who isn’t put off by what’s happened here…”
“What if I razed the house, filled in the bog with concrete?” He wasn’t sure either suggestion was feasible, but he was open to any possibility.
Stella chuckled. “I don’t think it will come to that. Let’s have a look at all this then.”
He took her from room to room. Except for the ones used daily—the study, parlor, kitchen and his bedroom—the others were dark, covered in a layer of dust and smelled musty.
“These rooms need a good tidy,” Stella said, making a note in her book.
Declan glanced around the bedroom and nodded. Even the covers on the bed looked faded and dusty. “The house is too big for Mrs. Voyle to keep all the rooms clean.”
“I understand,” Stella said, with a sympathetic smile. “There used to be three girls who came from the village and cleaned. One was murdered here last spring, and the other two stopped coming.”
“Wonderful,” he muttered, shaking his head. No one in their right mind would buy this house. Hell, even if he did try to give it away, who would take it? He turned to the window. A thin layer of grime covered the glass in a brownish-yellow film. Outside, golden sun spilled over the forest, turning the pockets of remaining fall foliage into brilliant bursts of orange and red. Most of the leaves had given up their hold on the tangled branches, and from where he stood he could see the black water of The Devil’s Eye.
“Since the arrests, those girls might be willing to resume their positions, especially given the state of the village. There isn’t much work to choose from just now,” Stella said.
“That would help.” But what would he pay them with? Good thoughts?
Movement at the edge of the bog caught his eye. Someone was down there. Declan squinted to try to see who, but he was certain he already knew.
“I have to go,” he said, turning back to Stella.
She blinked and sputtered, “But I’ve paperwork, and—”
“I’m sorry. Leave the paperwork with me and I’ll drop it by your office later today,” Declan said, ushering the woman back downstairs to the front door. “I’m really sorry about this. I just remembered another appointment.”
Not true, but he wasn’t about to admit he had to chase away some crazy woman hunting ghosts at The Devil’s Eye.
* * *
“My God, Carly, I’ve never seen numbers like these.”
Carly nipped at her bottom lip to keep from smirking. Standing at the edge of the bog, she stared down at her rippling reflection in the black water and somehow managed to keep from telling Andy she’d told him so.
As she’d predicted, the geomagnetic field readings were practically off the charts. Excitement welled inside her when she considered the possibilities. As well as setting up geomagnetic meters at opposite ends of the bog, she and Andy had set up voice recorders and she’d snapped a few pictures of the area.
Both Brynn and Eleri James had claimed to have seen shadow people in the woods, and Reece Conway had been bombarded with voices once he managed to get past the gate. To be fair, Reece was sensitive, a natural medium. The odds of Carly hearing anything he could were low. But Brynn and Eleri were about as sensitive as the rock Carly was digging out of the mud with the toe of her boot.
She’d asked Reece to come with her. Having worked with him back when she was an undergrad and he was a teenager assisting his uncle—also a natural medium—she knew he was good, better than any medium she’d worked with since.
Reece had turned down her invitation to return to Stonecliff. Not only had he given up using his gift to go build boats in Holyhead on the opposite side of the Isle. Of Anglesey, but he was also engaged to Brynn, who never wanted to set foot on the estate again.
How could someone have a gift like his and not use it, not explore it or take the time to understand it? Such a waste.
“Carly?” Andy’s sharp tone jerked her from her reverie. She turned to see him standing behind her, a frown etched into his boyish features. “I asked you if you believed the source of the energy was coming from the bog? Maybe there’s a fault zone running beneath it.”
She jerked a shoulder. “It’s possible, but I’m more interested in what that energy is producing.”
“The shadow people?”
“Voices, footsteps, strange noises. Both sisters had physical experiences. One was pushed down the stairs, the other trapped in a stairwell by a door with no lock. So the question is—does all that activity stem from this place, The Devil’s Eye? Is the energy given off by the bog producing paranormal phenomena, or is it a source of hallucinations?”
She turned back to the dark water. The afternoon sun reflected off the black surface like a white pupil in a black iris. A shiver slithered up her spine.
“I thought you believed the energy was evil.”
“Energy is energy,” she murmured, then turned to face him. Andy looked up from his hunched position next to one of the geomagnetic meters. “But what if evil acts could manipulate that energy and draw more evil to it? Some believe shadow people are manifestations of evil.”
Andy snorted and shook his head. “You’re not trying to claim the energy here influenced those people who killed all those men, that The Devil’s Eye made them do it.”
“No, but what if it drew them here?”
“All three were local—the pub owner and his wife and the village doctor. They’d lived here all their lives and their families before them.”
Carly sighed and left the water’s edge, walking toward Andy. “But why here? They could have murdered people anywhere in Cragera Bay, or anywhere on the island for that matter. Why The Devil’s Eye? And don’t forget that nurse who murdered two people this past spring, completely unrelated to the bodies in the bog.”
“If your theory’s correct, and The Devil’s Eye is attracting murderers, then I suppose we’re lucky to still be alive. We could have been killed in the short distance between here and the car.”
Andy laughed at his own joke, and Carly rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I brought you in on this.”
“Because no one else would have been crazy enough to come. Still,” Andy said, with a shrug. “I think you might be onto something here.”
Andy, after all, wanted the same thing as her: for his work with the paranormal to be taken seriously. While Carly had her own issues in academia, her work considered little more than a pseudoscience, Andy was still a builder by day, paranormal investigator by night. His own work viewed as an amusing hobby by some, a crackpot waste of time with no scientific merit by others.
Carly pushed the envelope, walked a very thin line between right and wrong to get what she wanted—and in the case of The Devil’s Eye she was well over that line—but Andy was willing to do all that with her because if her work could be taken seriously, then so would his.
She grinned and folded her arms over her chest. “Was there any doubt?”
He snorted. “Should we start tidying this lot up? Before his lordship realizes we’re here.”
“I suppose,” she murmured, nipping at her bottom lip again. She just hoped they’d gathered enough to convince Meyers to give them access to the property.
“If we did manage to catch something while we were here,” Andy said, setting the voice recorder back in its case, “do you think Meyers will change his mind?”
He must have been reading her mind. Carly opened her mouth to answer, but a man’s voice cut her off.
“No, he won’t change his mind.”
Carly whirled around. Declan Meyers stood in the opening between the bog and the path that led deeper into the woods toward Stonecliff. His gaze burned like black coal, sharp-angled features twisted into a furious scowl.
“He might, however, have you arrested for trespassing.”
Chapter Four
Crap! Carly’s pulse fluttered in her throat, her mind spinning in a thousand different directions trying to decide the best way to defuse the situation. She opted for pretending nothing was wrong.
She smiled as if she were delighted to see him. “Mr. Meyers, what a surprise. We’re just about finished here.”
He threw his hands up with furious incredulity. “Are you deranged or just stupid? I told you yesterday to stay the fuck away from Stonecliff.”
“You did,” she agreed, nodding slowly. Should she go ahead and show him the numbers they’d recorded, explain the implications? His black eyes blazed, nostrils flaring. Maybe this wasn’t the best time. “If we could just discuss this reasonably.”
He rolled his eyes and started up the path. “I’m calling the cops.”
Andy stiffened beside her, and Carly’s heart thudded in her chest. If they were arrested for trespassing, everything they were hoping to accomplish would be tainted. And she would never get the chance to thoroughly investigate the location.
She needed damage control.
“You won’t,” Carly called, scurrying after him. Her ankle was still stiff from her near fall yesterday, but she didn’t let it slow her down. “You can’t afford the attention.”
Declan stopped, forcing Carly to come to an abrupt halt. The rubber tread of her boots skidded on the carpet of dead leaves. He whipped around and faced her, a scowl etched into his hardened features, fury radiating from his tense frame. He opened his mouth as if to really let her have it, but instead snapped it shut and stormed off down the path again.
Crap, would he call her bluff and call the police, anyway? She glanced back at Andy. “Tidy this lot up and head back to the inn. I’ll deal with Meyers.”
Andy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Haven’t you had enough for one day?”
“I have to stop him from complaining to the police.”
Carly darted down the path, away from the bog, running as quickly as her slight limp would allow to catch up with Meyers. She spotted him as he passed through the stone posts. A rusted iron gate—which must have fallen from the pillars at some point—leaned against one of them.
He didn’t slow his long, purposeful strides. She picked up her pace. “Mr. Meyers!”
“What?” He swung around, forcing Carly into another skidding halt. His eyes glinted like black glass. His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides as if he were fighting to keep from throttling her.
Nerves skittered up her spine. How much influence did The Devil’s Eye have on its residents? She swallowed hard and gave herself a mental shake. She was letting the estate’s history fuel her imagination.
“If you would just hear me out,” she said, pleased her voice remained steady.
“What for? You’ve already made yourself perfectly clear. You plan to trespass and do whatever the hell you want because you think you have me over a barrel. Unfortunately for you, you miscalculated. I had the real estate agent with me when I spotted you, and I had to talk fast to get her out of here so I could deal with you.”
Deal with her? “If you would just listen—”
“While you think I won’t go to the cops because I don’t want the attention, odds are it’s only a matter of time before someone sees you here. The real estate agent. A potential buyer. Either way, having you here is going to attract unwanted attention, so I might as well get the satisfaction of seeing the cops haul you out of here.”
Damn it. She needed him to hear her. “What if there’s a way we can both get what we want?”
Meyers lifted a skeptical brow. “I don’t see how that’s possible. I want you to go away and you won’t.”
“Right then, not get what we want so much, but come to a compromise.”
He his mouth curled in a humorless smile and he let out a soft chuckle. “See, I don’t need to compromise. I call the cops, they take you out of here and hopefully write you a nice hefty fine.”
“They probably will, and everyone in the village will hear about it. But that’s all the police will do. I could still come back.” Actually, involving the police would implode her career, so besides a personal interest she would have no reason to return, but why let him know he’d already called her bluff?
“For God’s sake,” he ground out, shaking his head. “Is there something mentally wrong with you? Do I have to get a restraining order to keep you out of here?”
She nipped her lip and took a cautious step toward him. “I have a solution to both our problems.”
He looked up at the sky, before leveling his dark gaze with hers once more. “No doubt your solution will benefit you more than me.”
He turned away and stormed down the path once more. Carly scrambled after him.
“Look, deep down you couldn’t care less whether I investigate on your property or not.” He shot her a furious scowl that shriveled her insides, but she pressed on. “What matters to you, is people finding out about it. I could conduct my investigation quietly. No one would have to know, and I would keep my findings quiet until the estate sold.”
“The fact that you’re in Cragera Bay is enough to have people talking,” he ground out, without sparing her a glance. His long strides ate up the ground, forcing her to have to jog to keep up.
“I understand. I’ll arrange my investigation quickly, and when it’s done, you’ll never see me again.”
His scowl softened to a frown, but he didn’t slow his pace. “What a deal. I guess I missed the part where your offer benefits me.”
“It’s the part where I go away, never to bother you again. No more trying to sneak onto your land. No more questioning the locals about their experiences at Stonecliff. I go away and no one will ever know I investigated Stonecliff or The Devil’s Eye, until you are no longer the proud owner.”
The trees thinned, hard sunlight seeping between the branches and dappling the forest floor as the path opened onto a gravel courtyard between the coach house and Stonecliff.
Carly’s step faltered under the looming stone, dark windows and peaked roofline. A shiver scurried down her spine. She’d been to haunted places before, seen things she couldn’t explain, yet none had ever filled her with the same cold dread curdling her insides.
“Something else, isn’t it?” Meyers’s voice jerked her from her reverie. She’d almost forgotten he was there. Those lovely shaped lips curled into a sneer. He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back and forth on the edge of his trainers. “Who wouldn’t want to buy such a quaint property on the coast—especially when one takes into consideration the murders, suicides and accidental deaths?”
She couldn’t imagine spending one night here on her own, never mind weeks. She was letting her imagination run wild again. After all, the high GMFs she’d recorded could be the source of her unease. But so far from the bog itself?
“In the short time I was at The Devil’s Eye, I recorded unusually high levels of geomagnetic energy. Surges in GMFs can be a result of a number of natural occurrences like fault zones or deposits of magnetic minerals.”
“Is there a short version of this lecture? I really don’t have time to take a class.”
She shot him a less than amused glare. “Fine. GMFs are often linked to typical haunt activity like apparitions and poltergeist activity. However, strong GMFs can affect the physical body, as well, from a mild sense of unease to hallucinations, and there is nothing paranormal about the site at all.”
Though witnesses claiming to share similar experiences suggested otherwise.
“And that’s what you’re investigating?”
She shrugged. “More or less.”
No point in sharing her “evil deeds, evil energy” theory just yet.
“How soon would you get this investigation under way?”
A tiny flicker of hope flared inside her. “I could have a test group down here in two—”
“No groups. Just you and the guy I found you with.”
Was he out of his mind? “I need a test group to record their reactions. That’s the investigation.”
He shrugged, a smug smile pulling at his mouth. “Record your own reaction. You bringing a group in will take away from the anonymity you promised, such as it is. That’s my best offer. Take it, or I can get a restraining order.”
She needed the group, otherwise what was the point? Still, she wasn’t prepared to walk away just yet. Not when she’d finally got a foot in the door. Maybe if she produced results, he’d come around.
“Fine,” she ground out, then jabbed a finger at him. “But I want your participation. You can be my test subject by sharing your experiences on the property.”
His smirk dimmed. “I haven’t had any.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care.”
She folded her arms over her chest and shot him her own smug smile. “Then what will it hurt for you to sit at the bog with us and tell us what you’re not experiencing?”
He didn’t have an answer.
* * *
By the time Carly returned to the inn, the sky had darkened and the air turned cold. Her breath formed thin puffs of vapor as she left her car next to Andy’s van and hurried to the gray pebbledash two-story overlooking the sea. In the dark, she couldn’t see the water, but the slap of waves against wet sand filled her ears.
Inside, soft light fell over white walls and rose-colored carpets. The dining room off the hall was dark, the few round tables in the room empty. She and Andy were the only guests, and had told Mrs. Leonard, the owner, they wouldn’t be eating here tonight.
There was no sign of the woman now, nor her son or daughter-in law who helped her to manage the place. Maybe they had already retired to their apartment at the back of the building.
Carly mounted the stairs and made her way to Andy’s room instead of her own. A flutter of apprehension tickled low inside her. She wasn’t sure how Andy would react to the agreement she’d made with Meyers. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it herself.
He’d certainly kneecapped her investigation by refusing to allow for a test group, but his participation opened doors she hadn’t considered previously.
Carly had recorded several claims of a shadow man at Stonecliff, who showed an interest in Meyers’s sisters, Brynn and Eleri. It would be interesting to see if he too could draw out the phenomena, or if his presence increased activity compared to her and Andy on their own.
Outside Andy’s room, she knocked on his door.
“It’s open,” he called out.
Carly pushed open the door and stepped inside. His room was nearly identical to hers in size and function, but instead of blue frills and satin his were peach. Andy was stretched out on his bed, propped up on pillows and watching the telly perched on the long dresser opposite him.
“You’re back?” he said with a snort. “I’ve been waiting for a visit from the police, or a call to fetch you from the station.”
Carly pushed the door closed and shot him a wry smile. “Oh, ye of little faith. Mr. Meyers and I had a very reasonable conversation, and he’s agreed to let us investigate.”
He sat up. “Bullshit.”
“There are some caveats,” she dropped onto the corner of his bed.
Andy snorted. “Here it comes.”
“Anonymity is important, and he will not agree to a test group.”
“Then what good is access to The Devil’s Eye?”
“He’s agreed to act as a test subject for us.” She tensed, waiting for his response.
Andy rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t strike me as the most open-minded sort.”
“He’s skeptical,” Carly admitted, with a shrug. “But sometimes that’s better than someone who thinks every noise, every feeling is paranormal. And if he witnesses activity for himself, maybe he’ll change his mind.”
“If you think that’s all it will take.” Andy swung his feet to the floor and stood. “I might have something, then.”
“You found something?” A thin thrill shot through her.
He crossed the room to the equipment stacked against the wall near the door and grinned. “More than one something, actually, but this is the most impressive.” He brought out one of the recorders and set it on top of the dresser. “I already cued it up for you.”
He pressed play. A soft weeping filled the quiet room, low and possibly male, mingling with her voice and Andy’s in a discussion about readings, completely oblivious to the sobs.