Chapter 6

Sam stared at the picture she had secretly snapped with her phone and sent to her laptop. Robert Pennington gazed back at her, offering no clues as to how or why he remained at Highland House. Her fingertip traced the chiseled features of his face. What was it about this man? Like some sick obsession, her body warmed to his memory.

She flipped the screen back to her work with a huff. Any sane person would be securing a ticket home, not wishing some handsome ghost would haunt her bedroom.

“I give up,” she blurted out as a group of men bustled through the front door carrying a cornucopia the size of her desk. It was Thanksgiving decorating day, and all manner of items were arriving at the house. “It’s useless for me to try to get anything done. And it’s freezing in here with the big door opening and closing every two seconds.”

Amy looked up from her laptop and yawned, obviously unaffected by all the commotion. “Do you want me to run down to the Bean Pot for a caffeine fix?”

“No, I think I’m going to pay Kristine Hammond a visit at the Historical Society. She has a big exhibit coming to the house today. It would be good to see it in advance.” The statement was factual, but Sam hoped to get more information on the Pennington family.

Grabbing her purse, she turned to Amy. “You’re in charge. Don’t let any of these guys deviate from the plan, especially the one who wanted to put live turkeys in the front yard. Kevin just might let him.”

“Got it. No turkeys,” Amy said with a salute.

Sam opened the car window inviting the salty air in as she drove along the shore road. Glimpses of dark green waves tipped with white froth made her smile. It was a perfect late fall day, sunny and cold with a brisk wind shaking the few remaining leaves on the trees. She knew her way around now, winding down tight roads past storm-weathered houses with postage stamp yards. Despite the cold, people were out walking dogs, making deliveries, and putting kindergarteners on the afternoon bus. It was a charming setting.

I love this little town… Wow! Where the heck did that come from? Had coming here truly changed her? What was it about the place…the history, its deep roots, or perhaps a sense of belonging for the first time? Back in the city, yesterday was so last week. Tomorrow would be another blur. Life moved at a lightning pace numbing its passing. Here time slowed for her. She could savor it.

A few minutes later, she was sliding into a parking place in the picturesque heart of the town. The Historical Society was located in an old church a few blocks from a tiny harbor. Entering the white clapboard building through the front doorway, she found Kristine on the floor packing up boxes. As always, the woman looked like she’d jumped straight out of the pages of a Yankee clothing catalogue.

“Hello there,” Kristine greeted Sam with a bright smile. “Come to see the new collection? You’re going to love it. It’s perfect for the holiday season.”

Sam grinned at her enthusiasm. She seemed to have an endless supply of it when it came to anything associated with Highland House.

“We have formal wear, ball gowns, and accessories. Reproductions created by the university’s costume design students. They’re historically accurate. A pet project I’m assisting with.”

Sam flipped through the binder Kristine pressed into her hands. She paused on one artist’s rendition of a woman in a rose-colored gown. A dark haired man stood behind her, their faces a water-colored wash. “Is this Highland’s ballroom?”

“Very good. I gave the students photos of the house to use as inspiration.”

Kristine kept speaking, but Sam wasn’t listening anymore. She was lost in another daydream sparked by the drawing. Ever since encountering “the ghost,” random images had been popping into her head and setting up camp. Sitting with him, holding hands, and talking. Making love. A therapist would have a field day with the weird track her brain was taking.

Reality rushed back when Kristine said, “Next time I’ll show you the Pennington family collection.”

They walked out a side doorway together. Bright afternoon sunlight made Sam squint. Cries of a gull had her lifting her gaze to the tall spire of the church. More birds darted past the Widow’s Walk of the old sea captain’s house before disappearing down by the water. “No wonder you love it here. You’ve got history all around you.”

“Yes, but then so do you.” Kristine leveled a probing stare on her. “If I may say, your history is much more exciting than anything I’ve got in this dusty old museum. I heard what happened at the Halloween party. Quite extraordinary…seeing ghosts.”

Sam wanted to spill it all, have someone to confide in, but she remained silent.

A gaping hole loomed in their conversation until Kristine asked, “Would you like to see where he is?”

“He?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Why, yes, my dear. Robert Pennington.” Kristine’s smile came easily, as if they were discussing the most natural thing. She led the way around the back of the church to a thin gravel path dividing the lawn. They walked single file down a long hill overlooking the sea. Below, an old cemetery fanned out under sparse wind-whipped trees. The path ended, and they continued across the brown grass to a cluster of stones. The largest held the names of the Pennington parents. Two smaller stones marked the younger children’s graves. Off to one side, separate from the rest stood a solitary marker.

Like a heavy door slamming on Sam’s heart, the finality of the cold dark stone was crushing. It was tangible proof. Robert Pennington was long dead. Yet how could he be? How could she connect this solemn scene with the living, breathing man who’d reached out to her, touched her in ways affecting her still?

“The family was traveling south.” Kristine voice startled her. “Robert stayed behind. The Columbia went down off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard, driven onto the rocks by a fierce winter storm. Over one hundred passengers and crew were lost, swept away by icy waves. They brought the few remains recovered to a church in Gay Head. Relatives had to collect them. Being the only surviving family member, the grim task fell to Robert.” Her gaze was distant as she recounted the morbid history. “It was a tragedy which left him utterly alone. He was never the same. Finally killed himself.” She bent down to pull dead weeds from alongside the headstone. “But then you already know all this don’t you, Samantha?”

Sam opened her mouth, yet nothing came out. What words could describe her connection to a man dead for more than a century? “I have to go.” She turned away to tramp back up the hill.

Kristine ran after her. “He’s reached out to you, hasn’t he? I knew he would.”

She slammed to a halt and spun to face her. “What?”

“Our previous property manager swore the house was haunted. Vicky…she said the activity was getting worse, as if some great storm was brewing. She moved out.” Kristine looked uncomfortable. “I figured, with you living in the house we’d know for sure. Something was bound to happen if it was truly haunted.”

“Yeah, well, something did happen,” Sam hurled back, feeling betrayed. “How could you do it, let me move in there?”

“I didn’t know, and you needed a place—”

“I needed a place to relax,” she shouted. “You and Angela knew I was trying to get over an abusive relationship. Yet you both decided, ‘hey, just for kicks, let’s move Sam into a haunted house and see what happens.’”

“It wasn’t like that, Samantha. Angela doesn’t even know about the unrest. And she assured me you were levelheaded. I assumed you’d say something if there was a problem. Why keep it a secret?”

Because I’m obsessed with him! Sam wanted to yell in her face. Instead, she bowed her head. “I don’t know. I figured I was crazy.”

Kristine clutched her arms. “I’m sorry. I should have pressed you more, made sure you were all right.”

“Fine. I’m fine. Let’s just drop it. He hasn’t been back.”

An expression of delight transformed Kristine’s face. “Tell me everything. I must know. What was he like?”

“He’s no Casper if that’s what you’re thinking. The first time I saw him, he scared me to death. I nearly killed myself falling down those stairs. Next he… Well, we… He tried to…” She balked at giving details of their intimate encounter by the fireplace.

“You mean you’ve seen him more than once?” Kristine clapped her hands like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh, I hope I get to see him. It’s a classic setup for a haunting, you know. Tragedy and suicide. Lucky you, Samantha.”

Stunned into silence, Sam could only stare at her.

“We have so much to talk about. So much I want to tell you.” Kristine leaned closer as if to tell a juicy secret. “According to the newspapers, his charred body was discovered in the burnt-out remains of the boat house. Given his reclusive behavior, most speculated he set fire to the place himself. The doctor swore he was severely depressed, yet no one could prove suicide because he was alone.”

Sam felt sick. She’d seen him. Through some bizarre glitch in time, she’d witnessed him alone and shut up in the house. “I’ve longed for you, night after night, alone in the darkness. Prayed you would come back to me.” Misery and guilt plagued her. Could she have done something to save him?

“…and then everything was put up for auction,” Kristine was explaining. “Apparently, there was a problem with the will, something about the father being legally incompetent.”

“So how did the house come to be what it is today?” Sam asked in confusion.

“It was in ruins, having gone from one owner to the next. A hangout for druggies and vagrants. The town’s ‘haunted house’ so to speak. Until a group of concerned citizens saved it and began the long process of restoring it.”

“So it’s always been haunted,” Sam concluded.

The other woman’s gaze dropped. “There have been rumors.”

“What about the things in the house, like the furnishings? Are any pieces original?”

“No, everything was lost.” Kristine gave a mournful sigh. “However, some items came back to us, donated by the Kingston Estate. I’m sure you’ve come across the name by now. The two families were very close.” Her expression turned to a thoughtful frown. “Oddly enough, the front door keys survived in the town’s archives. There’s something strange there. Your name was on one of those tags. Incredible as that sounds—”

Sam groaned when her phone buzzed in her pocket interrupting them. She checked the text. “I’ve gotta go. Amy is having a crisis.”

“You will tell me if you see him again?” Kristine asked with a hopeful smile.

“Sure.” Sam shrugged, though she didn’t know if she would. She was already the biggest whack job in town, and Kristine Hammond was running a close second.

****

“What’s wrong?” Sam demanded when Amy met her on the gravel drive.

“You are not going to believe this.” Amy yanked her toward the house like an impatient child. “One of the decorators was attacked.”

“Attacked? By what?”

“More like by whom?” The intern’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. “He said he was alone, setting up his display when someone—something—came out of nowhere and started whacking him. He tried to get a good look at them, but they were sketchy. Then poof, they were gone. How’s that for a freak show?”

“Where did it happen?”

“In the Pennington Room,” Amy proclaimed sounding like a detective from an old movie.

Sam hurried to the room, battling her swinging emotions. Confusion, fear, excitement. Could it be Robert? Would he be there? Her heart leapt at the prospect.

Amy ran up behind her. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we call the police? An exterminator maybe?”

“I need to get to the bottom of this.” Sam pushed through the Pennington Room’s double doors. Her eyes scanned the space. The room was empty, just as it had been the first night she’d seen him. Disappointment rippled through her as she approached the corner where the display lay strewn across the floor.

Following close behind, Amy bumped into her when she stopped. “What if it’s still here?” she whispered.

Goosebumps suddenly rose on Sam’s arms and neck as the walls began to waver like a hologram. She crouched to the floor beside Amy, clasping hands. An icy breeze swept past them, blowing their hair as a high-pitched scream filled the air.

“Look.” Amy pointed.

Two shadow figures rushed past them before disappearing through a wall.

“Holy shit,” Amy shrieked. “This place really is haunted!”

****

News of the latest haunting episode traveled fast, yet Sam miraculously managed to somewhat calm everyone’s nerves by quitting time. She sent the decorator man home with free tickets to a concert and a promise he could display his work in another building on the property. She made Amy swear she would not call some famous paranormal group. The rest of the staff had a great story. Samantha Merrill would forever hold the title of “bravest person they knew.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to stay.” Amy shook her head so fast Sam expected it to pop off. “I couldn’t sleep here. Not ever. Not after seeing what we saw today. What about what happened at the Halloween party? This place is infested.”

“Stop it. I’ll be fine.” She pushed car keys into Amy’s hand, shoving her out the front door.

Amy clutched at her clothes. “You call me right away if anything happens. I won’t come, but I’ll send the cops. Or maybe a priest. Oh my God,” she whined. “Are we going to be okay working here? What if someone gets possessed?”

“No one is getting possessed. Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sam could still hear her carrying on as she closed the door and locked it.

Setting the alarm, she released the breath lodged in her chest. Like pulling a string in a sweater, her life was unraveling again. This was not the plan. She was supposed to be getting her life back on track, not fending off poltergeists and crazy coworkers. Or having feelings for a man who couldn’t exist.

Thoughts of Robert Pennington made her heart ache. The image of his grave burned in her memory. Kristine had to be wrong. About everything.

Sam’s gaze swept the empty house. Late afternoon sunlight bathed its rooms in a soft glow of amber. Familiar sounds smoothed away the rough edges of the day—the ever-present wind, the pendulum swing of the grandfather clock, floorboards creaking beneath her steps. A sense of calm returned. Steeped in secrets and mysteries, Highland House was still a beautiful place despite the mayhem. Strange, but she belonged here somehow. She just knew it.