“I was awake, anyway. It does feel as if…as if there’s something or someone in the house.”
Logan slipped an arm around her shoulders. “If so, we’re not the ones they want to talk to.”
“Good night,” Kelsey told Tyler, but she paused. “Make sure you leave Allison’s door open. And your own.”
He smiled at her. “That’s the way I was planning it.”
Logan and Kelsey went to bed, and Tyler did the same, keeping his door half-open.
If anyone moved in the hall, he’d hear it. He was a light sleeper.
If anyone made a move toward Allison in any way, he’d know it.
Comfortable at last with that thought, he lay down again. He grinned, thinking about their ghost. He would’ve been impatient with Julian’s lack of responsibility in life, but he would have liked him.
Julian had been intense when he’d spoken with Tyler at Allison’s house, while she was packing. He’d charged him fiercely to ensure that Allison was safe.
“She’s amazing, you know? There’s no one like her. She has a great sense of humor, and she makes everything work and everyone get along. And she’s so smart and beautiful and…you have to watch her every step, okay? We can’t let anything happen to her.”
“We won’t,” Tyler had assured him.
“Man, I was into her,” Julian said sadly. “But she wanted…well, something I wasn’t. I couldn’t help her or be there for her when I was alive, but now…now, I’m a ghost! A bunch of air, a cold breeze. So it’s gotta be you. You understand?”
“We know how to protect people,” Tyler had said.
“From this?” Julian had asked. “From paintings that move and someone who can creep around behind you? You’ve got to be wary—every second. Every single second.”
And then the phone call had come.
Dixon had woken up and spoken one word.
Allison.
Tyler groaned, tossing in bed again. He had to sleep or he’d be no good to anyone tomorrow.
He must have finally dozed. He dreamed about a giant black horse, rearing and snorting in the yard, carrying a beautiful young woman. Lucy Tarleton.
In his dreams, Lucy’s face was Allison’s.
When Allison awoke, she heard the others downstairs in the entry.
She felt good; she’d slept extremely well.
When she went to bed, she’d been afraid she’d be plagued by dreams all night long or that she’d wake up to see another ghost sitting in the room.
But she’d felt safe. Ridiculously safe. Tyler was across the hall, and there were five other agents in the house.
Until this was over, she knew darned well she wasn’t leaving.
She hurried down the servants’ stairs, delighted to find that the bath was empty. Showering quickly and dressing, she came out to join the others. Kat wasn’t there, nor was Jane. But Kelsey, Logan, Sean and Tyler were together.
They were gathered around the bank of screens Sean had set up.
When she arrived, they turned, almost as one, to stare at her.
She stood still, looking back at them. “What?” she asked. Her feeling of serenity from the night of undisturbed sleep began to evaporate.
“What?” she repeated.
“You need to see this,” Tyler said.
She walked over to the screens, which showed six views of the house. One camera was in the upstairs hallway, one in the attic. One showed Angus Tarleton’s study and another showed a view of the salon. The fifth displayed the front of the house.
The last camera was set to monitor activity in the entry.
She could see their group on the screen as they all watched the computers.
“Hold on,” Sean said. “I’m rolling back.”
There was a timer set in a black margin at the top of each screen. Allison saw the hours roll back. She noticed something, a splinter of light, and then Sean slowed down the reverse, stopped and moved it forward.
She saw Tyler come out of his room and silently check on her, and then she saw Logan emerge, as well. They could be seen on the various screens as they came down the stairs and walked through the house, walked back up the stairs and met Kelsey on the second-floor landing.
“You woke up and checked out the house. That’s a good thing,” she murmured.
“Wait,” Sean said.
At the foot of the stairs, a figure began to appear. It was that of a woman. She was hazy at first, but it might have been the low night-light that made her look as if she’d arrived like a wraith.
Then again, she might have been a wraith.
She seemed to gather substance.
She moved from the stairway to the door that led to Angus Tarleton’s study, and she paused there. Sean pushed a key on his computer board and they saw a close-up of the woman.
Allison’s throat tightened. She would have gasped aloud—if she hadn’t felt that she was choking.
The woman was beautifully gowned in a Colonial-era dress; her stomacher was blue with white embroidery, her skirt was blue and the sleeves on her gown were white. Her hair, a soft brown, was tied back but curling tendrils escaped to frame her face.
Her face…
Allison had already accepted that a good friend she’d seen murdered was now a ghost.
Why was this terrifying her so much? Because it made her feel as if she was a ghost herself?
Really, how could things get worse? Her friend was a ghost who believed she could discover the truth about his death. A man in a coma had called her name, and now she was seeing an image of a ghost, a ghost who looked just like her!
She backed away from the screen. “What is this?” she asked, fear making her tone sharp. “Some kind of trick photography?”
Tyler laid a hand on her arm. “Allison, it’s not a trick, but it isn’t anything that should upset you.”
She jerked away. “What, are you crazy? Are you creating footage for one of those stupid ghost shows?”
They were all silent, not replying to her accusation.
She realized how brittle she sounded.
Mean, bitter and nasty. That wasn’t her personality. And what she’d accused them of wasn’t what they were doing, and she knew it, but…
“You might have been related to her. Somehow,” Sean said, clearing his throat.
“I wasn’t! She didn’t have children. She died.” Allison shook her head. “I’ve seen paintings of her.... She didn’t resemble me. Not that closely, anyhow.”
“Well, you didn’t come downstairs, dress up and wander around the house last night, did you?” Kelsey asked.
Allison turned around with a sharp retort but it never left her lips. Kelsey was looking at her with empathy and understanding.
These people dealt with things like this all the time. None of it surprised them. Nothing surprised them.
She was still in denial. But she had a right to be! First, Julian. Now…this.
“It’s a strong resemblance,” Logan said. “However, that doesn’t really mean anything.”
“Yeah. Her hair is nowhere near as dark as Allison’s,” Sean added.
Tyler wasn’t speaking. She’d moved away from him, and he was watching her.
“It’s not me, it wasn’t me, and I’m no relation to Lucy Tarleton,” she said. “I’m not a descendent. I can’t be.”
“Of course. It’s just a resemblance,” Logan said.
Allison felt that her knees would go any second. This wasn’t fair! She’d felt so safe, as if the situation would really be solved, as if Julian’s killer would be discovered and her life could go back to what it had been.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said. “I’m not geared up for this kind of thing.”
Kelsey told her, “Hey, I understand. I always wanted to be a law enforcement officer, so finding out I had a few abilities that would help me with that wasn’t…well, wasn’t so hard to take. You’re a professor, a scholar—an academic. We can all understand how upsetting it must be, how frightening.”
“I’m not a coward!” she protested. But she was, and it was evident in her swift denial.
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Kelsey offered, leaving the salon for the pantry.
“We can’t stop you from going home, if that’s what you’d like to do,” Tyler said.
“No, we can’t stop you, but…” Logan turned her to face him. “Allison, it’s becoming very clear that you’re the key to whatever is going on here. You can really help us. And if you decide to go back to your own house, we can’t be there to protect you.”
“We can have police cars patrol around your house, though,” Tyler said.
“But the cops only have so much manpower. It’ll be hard for them to watch you,” Sean pointed out.
Kelsey returned with a cup of coffee for her. “When it’s morning, no matter what the trauma, coffee makes it better.”
“Where’s Julian?” she asked.
“We told him not to, but when Kat and Jane went to the morgue, Julian went with them,” Logan said.
Allison took her coffee and sank down into one of the chairs by the bank of screens. “I haven’t really been threatened,” she said. “Not by anyone living. Or anyone…not living. Julian is just worried. I don’t know why he was killed. But there’s no suggestion that whoever killed him would want to kill me.”
“Should we wait until there’s a bayonet through your throat?” Tyler asked harshly.
“Tyler,” Kelsey murmured.
“Run that image again, Sean,” Tyler said, and his voice sounded tense.
“I saw it the first time!” Allison said.
“Well, see it again.”
The image leaped to the screen again. Allison gritted her teeth.
Tyler hunkered down before her, his face just a breath away. “You’re in danger. If you don’t see it, you’re the most idiotic academic I’ve ever come across. Quit fighting it. If you want us to help you, accept the fact that someone in this house is trying to reach you, because someone outside this house is planning to kill you. Please—trust me. Trust my experience. You are the catalyst here. The key and the answer. Accept it, and maybe you’ll survive.”
