6

Lou spent a frustrating afternoon in the library. The history section contained hardly anything of any use to man nor beast. She tried the tourist office, but that proved utterly fruitless. Charlie wasn’t answering his texts, but she’d try him again later. It was almost as if all records for the area had been wiped the day they flooded the valley and the villages died.

Heading back to the hotel seemed the best option. The scuba gear wouldn’t be available until tomorrow, and dusk was falling.

Lou settled onto the bed with her laptop and hit the Internet search engines. A village had existed on the site of Abernay since the Roman invasion in 71 AD. A monastery had been built as early as 685, but that had been destroyed when the Vikings invaded in 875. It was left abandoned during the intervening years, finally being rebuilt in 1154 until destroyed again during the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII in 1540. All the stones were removed and used elsewhere.

Several battles ensued over the years; the most noted one during the civil war in 1645, where the death toll rose to over a hundred. The village was ostracized for its part in the Pilgrimage of Grace in 1536.

There was a small mention of the protest about the building of the dam, but nowhere as much as she’d hoped or expected. A few photographs, including some aerial ones, of the village before and after the flooding completed all she could find.

She leaned back on the pillows. Not much for a place that had been there so long.

No mention of ghosts or anything else. Not that she’d expected to find any. She’d need to call up urban legends for that. Going back to the search engine, she began typing. Only to be distracted by her phone.

Yawning, she picked it up and read the message from AJ.

HEY, BOSS. WILL BE LEAVING FIRST THING. SHOULD BE THERE BY ELEVEN. NEED ME TO BRING ANYTHING? I CAN RAID THE OFFICE ONCE V AND M GO HOME. I KNOW WHERE THE BOSS KEEPS THE SECRET CHOCOLATE STASH.

Lou grinned. AJ was a card. A total twit at times, no sign of respect for authority, but a great bloke to have around in a crisis. His way of thinking outside the box had got her out of a jam on more than one occasion.

NO ONE KNOWS THAT UNLESS THEY HAVE BEEN SNEAKING IN MY DRAWERS AND LOCKED BOXES She replied.

HAH. I KNOW EVERY-THINGGGGGGGGG. SERIOUSLY? YOU NEED ANYTHING…CHOCOLATE?

She thought quickly, then tapped out a reply.

YEAH, I LEFT MY TROWEL AND OTHER BITS IN MY BAG UNDER THE DESK, ALONG WITH MY DIARY AND FILOFAX. MEET ME AT THE DAM IN THE MORNING. I’LL BOOK YOU INTO A ROOM IN THE HOTEL HERE. IS C COMING?

ASK ME ANOTHER, DR. F. SHE AND M ARE AS THICK AS THIEVES. WOULDN’T BE SURPRISED IF HE IS LIVING WITH HER AFTER WHAT I SAW IN THE OFFICE EARLIER.

Lou snorted. Thieves was so the right word. And Monty and Clara being involved with each other would fit why she wasn’t coming as well. She sent one final text.

DRIVE SAFE. SEE YOU TOMORROW.

At least with AJ here, she’d get something done. Either way, whether she got the university job after meeting with Professor Cunningham or not, she would be quitting as soon as she possibly could. The only question was how much notice did she need to give and would it be better to resign now or once this dig was over?

She stood and crossed to the window to close the curtains. Thick fog had descended, making street lamps glow eerily. Not a single sound came from anywhere. She closed the curtains with a swish and grabbed the TV remote. Nothing caught her fancy, and she switched it off. The room phone rang, but when she answered, no one was there.

Maybe she should go find something to eat. Not that she was hungry, but her blood sugar was starting to dip. And a walk would do her good.

Lou slid into her coat and clutched her bag and room key. She took the lift to the ground floor. The reception desk was empty, a steaming mug of coffee sitting on it. The restaurant bore a sign saying closed. So much for getting something to eat there.

She peeped into the hotel lounge, but that, too, was empty. Magazines and cups lay scattered about as if they were in use, simply lacking the people. It reminded her of the story of the Marie Celeste. The fog came down and everyone vanished, leaving things as they were. Her mobile rang. “Hello?”

Again, like the room phone, no one replied.

She shook her head. She was letting herself be spooked by ghost stories and a lack of people. She’d walk the few yards to the pub, get something to eat there, and come back. Five long strides brought her to the door. The frigid air stole into her lungs, taking her breath away.

Lou tugged her collar around her neck and shivered. The swirling fog was thick and yellow, reminiscent of the pea-soupers London used to get, the ones she’d seen on the Internet. She couldn’t see a thing.

“I’d stay in if I were you, Dr. Fitzgerald.”

Lou jumped and twisted around to find Charlie Brampton inches from her face. “Evening, Charlie. I didn’t hear you creep up behind me. And why should I stay in?”

“It’s safer.” He nodded to the fog. “Nights like this, the spirits walk.”

“Seriously?” Lou scoffed. He had to be kidding, surely. “You do know there are no such things as ghosts.”

Wide white eyes stared at her from his dark face. “Nights like this, the fog and dead rise. Mark my words, Dr. Fitzgerald. This is not a natural fog; people go out, and they never come back.”

She shivered again, although whether from the cold or the way her mind suddenly ran rampant, she couldn’t tell. A muffled siren began to rise and fall, the sound muted by the fog. “What’s that?”

“Ghosts,” Charlie intoned. “That’s the siren warning that the flooding is about to start. Goes off a lot this time of year, just like the fog. The fog rises and with it the drowned folks rise to seek revenge.”

“Charlie, that’s enough.” Mr. Close’s firm, steady, and somewhat calming voice came from behind them. “I don’t want you to go scaring Dr. Fitzgerald with your stories. It’s not friendly, especially on a night like this.”

Lou tried not to react visibly as she twisted to face the second person to have crept up on her unawares. Seriously, were they all out to give her heart failure tonight?

Charlie shrugged. “Merely telling it how it is, Mr. Close.”

“In this case, Dr. Fitzgerald, it’s merely the Tanmoor sirens.”

“Tanmoor?” She peered at him.

“The loony bin,” Charlie inserted.

Mr. Close shot him a glare. “Tanmoor is the hospital for the criminally insane fifteen miles away from here. It’s similar to the Broadmoor institution in Berkshire. They test the sirens every Monday morning at ten.”

Lou shivered. “But it’s eight thirty Tuesday evening.”

Mr. Close nodded. “Then it means someone has escaped. On this occasion, Charlie may be right, and it’s safer to stay inside.”

“I was going to the pub for something to eat,” Lou said. “Purely because the desk and lounge are deserted, and the restaurant is closed.”

“Not tonight. I’ll find someone. Come back inside where it’s safe.”

Feeling very much like a naughty child being sent to her room, Lou did as he asked. As an afterthought, she peered at him, trying to see him as something other than a very handsome man. An extremely tall, handsome man, who had at least a foot in height on her. “So, if it isn’t safe out there, how will you get home?”

He smiled slowly, the smile never quite reaching his eyes. “I have a car and a bodyguard. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

Lou did a double take. “You have a bodyguard?”

He nodded. “And Mr. Miles is a very good shot. He never misses.”

Not sure how to respond, she twisted and headed inside. Why would the bloke need a bodyguard? Never mind one who was an excellent shot. What exactly was he hiding, and what was going on here? “The desk is still empty.”

“I’ll see if I can find someone,” he said.

“It’s fine. Don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’ll try the desk a bit later, and see if I can get room service. G’night.” She headed back to the lift and sighed as the doors closed. A minute or so later, she reached her room and opened the door.

The window was wide open. Fog swirled in, churning around the room and reaching for her with long tentacles. Cold oozed into her, piercing her. Moving quickly, she left the door open and reached the window in five strides. She could see Mr. Close and another man standing under the streetlight looking up at her window. She nodded to him, slammed it shut and double checked the catch. She hadn’t left it open. She knew that for certain.

At that moment, Lou caught sight of a man’s reflection in the glass. He stood behind her, a knife in his hand, balaclava over his face. She spun around, screaming as he tackled her, tucking her against him. Panic overwhelmed her. All the moves she’d learned in self-defence classes left her. Metal touched her throat. She tried to swallow, fear making it impossible.

Was this it? Had she overcome everything life had thrown at her to die in a cold, foggy hotel room alone?

No. She hadn’t. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed her head back, trying to hurt her assailant. At the same time, she brought her leg up backwards in an attempt to kick him. However, he’d apparently anticipated this, as his foot promptly swept her false leg out from under her and she wobbled. She would have fallen if he wasn’t holding her so tightly.

“Don’t do that again,” he hissed.

“What do you want?”

“You.” The knife dug a little deeper, and he began pushing her across the room.

She hit the wall with a thud, breath forced from her lungs.

“Let her go.” Mr. Close’s strong voice echoed from the doorway.

Lou glanced over. She’d never been more pleased to see someone. “Mr. Close…” She broke off as she realised the man standing beside him was aiming a gun at her. “Wait—”

The gun fired.

Lou screamed.