Chapter 5

“It’s all speculation,” Paul said. “Maxie saw a ghost in Mac’s room, but she didn’t see the ghost do anything, and didn’t really get a good look, other than to say it was female. We don’t know anything yet.”

After some discussion about Maxine’s description of the scene in Mac’s room, Paul had suggested he and Maxine search the house for unknown ghosts, but they found no one at all, not even Sergeant Elliot. Now, in the den as the fire started to die down, he was cautioning us not to jump to conclusions.

“We have no evidence,” he went on. “In fact, we don’t even know for sure that anything happened other than a person like Maxie and me was passing by just when Mac happened to fall out of bed. For all we know, he does that twice a week.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it a big coincidence?” Melissa asked. “Aren’t you always saying we shouldn’t trust coincidences in an investigation?” She’s so grown-up.

“I’m not saying we should trust it, and I’m not saying the spirit in the room didn’t do something to your guest, Alison. What I’m saying is we don’t know what happened yet.”

There was little that could be done before morning. Without electricity, Maxine could not do any Internet research; even if the battery on the somewhat outdated laptop could hold out for more than a few minutes—and Alison assured me it wouldn’t—there was no working Internet connection in the house. We’d have to venture outside to find one, and the radio’s news reports grew more and more dire as the night went on. Alison had been right—we’d stay inside for the duration.

We could hear the wind howling outside. Maxine reported on the damage she’d seen, which in this area seemed to be mostly downed branches, but large ones. “It’s pretty bad. I couldn’t see any lights on for miles around, no streetlights, no traffic lights, no neon signs, nothing. Maybe you should have evacuated.”

“There was no evacuation order, or I would have,” Alison said. “You could see all that from the roof?”

Maxine shook her head. “The sign on top of the Dunkin’ Donuts on Route 35.”

“We can’t expect power to come on too soon. What can we do now, Paul?” Alison asked. I think she was trying to change the subject, because Melissa looked just a little scared, and Alison hates frightening her daughter.

“Sleep,” the ghostly investigator suggested. “It’s not going to do you much good to sit up tonight, and we can’t do any searching or research until tomorrow. Let me know if you see Maxie’s female ghost.”

“I don’t want to go upstairs with the fire still burning,” my daughter said.

“I’ll take care of it,” I told her. “I don’t feel like sleeping just yet. You and Melissa go on up.” I wasn’t very sleepy; I’ve always been a little antsy during thunderstorms, and even though there was no thunder tonight, this had the same dangerous feel to it. Maybe more dangerous.

Alison considered. “You want to spend the night in my room, Liss?” she asked.

“I’m not a four-year-old anymore,” Melissa protested, her voice a little shaky, betraying her true feelings.

“Of course you’re not, but I’m cold. I’ll bring the heater down from your room and we can both be warm.”

It was Melissa’s turn to consider for a moment. “Okay,” she said. Alison put an arm around her daughter and was even gracious enough not to give me a knowing look as she led Melissa upstairs.

Once they were out of earshot, I crossed my arms and pulled the blanket closer around my shoulders; the wool was scratchy, but I like it that way. “Okay, Paul,” I said. “Melissa’s gone. Now tell me what you really think is going on.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “We have a long list of things we don’t know, and a very short list of things we can be sure about.”

“We don’t know anything,” Maxine interjected. I knew Paul was just warming up so I’d stayed silent, but Maxine’s not always adept at picking up on signals from other people. Patience is not her strongest suit. “We can’t even be sure what Sergeant Elliot really wants,” she continued.

“What reason would he have to lie?” I asked. “We’re not going to stop looking for the bracelet if it’s that important to him. Why not just say what he means?” I confess, I don’t always understand what makes people lie. I’m sure there’s a reason Alison won’t tell people besides the family and her Senior Plus guests that she can see ghosts, but I’ve never felt embarrassed about my gift and will mention it to anyone who asks.

“I’m not sure this is all about the bracelet,” Paul said. “Maybe he wants us to search the house in some way that he can’t, or that he wouldn’t think to do. He wants us to find something.”

“Nobody goes this nuts over some little strip of metal that isn’t worth five dollars,” Maxie said, as if it were obvious. “What’s important is he wants out of this type of existence. He thinks somehow we can help him do it.”

I wished my husband Jack were there. Jack would have had a good idea of how to cut through the fog and understand what was important. It was a specialty of his. I wondered what he would say about Sergeant Elliot’s true motivations. So I imagined his reply, “This man’s name is on the bracelet, and he needs it to achieve some kind of peace. That could make sense. What doesn’t add up is that he’s so set on one being here in the house. What about all the others? Why is this particular one so important?”

That made sense. Jack was so helpful, even when he wasn’t there. “The only tool we have that’s still working is you, Paul,” I said. “Maybe you’d better try and locate Sergeant Elliot.”

Paul looked resigned to his task and nodded. “I’ll be back,” he said. Before he left, I asked him to get in touch with Jack and let him know I was all right. He agreed and dropped through the floor to the basement, one of his favorite hiding places.

“If you don’t mind me leaving you alone, I’m going back out to watch the storm,” Maxine said from the ceiling. “It’s pretty cool, when you can’t get wet.” I waved her off, saying it was fine and she, too, vanished.

I tried to resist the temptation to turn on the radio—who knew when we’d be able to get more batteries?—but I checked in about once an hour.

The reports got progressively worse, and at about two in the morning, the radio station we’d been tuned to lost its power, and static replaced the reports. It took me ten minutes to find another news outlet that was still broadcasting. Reports of downed wires and tree limbs abounded, hundreds of thousands were, like us, without electricity, and flooding was already overtaking a good part of the Jersey Shore. We hadn’t gotten any water in the house yet, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t. And even if the house itself remained unscathed, the area was taking a beating—I wasn’t sure when Alison might be able to expect vacationing guests to begin booking visits again.

At about five, I was sprawled on the sofa. The howling winds outside were a constant reminder of the huge storm bearing down on the shore, and the knowledge that the power might not come back for days was unsettling. What about the food I had in the freezer back at my house? Was the power on there?

I was tired but felt like I had to stay awake through the storm, like I was protecting the house for Alison and Melissa. I don’t know what I thought I’d be able to do if an emergency arose, but it seemed like the thing to do. I’d closed the flue on the chimney hours before.

Paul rose up from the basement, looking like a man who’d just been awakened from a deep sleep—no, a coma. His eyes weren’t focusing and his hair was tousled. He blinked frequently. And his voice was raspy.

“I’ve been trying to contact Sergeant Elliot,” he explained. “For that matter, I’ve been trying to contact anyone who knew him.”

“No luck?” I asked.