4 Witching On A Star (8 page)

“You were the one that brought up her lack of underwear,” I reminded her.

“That was a public service endeavor,” my mom said primly.

“Whatever.” I glanced over at Landon, who could have swallowed an entire plate if he was smiling any wider. “You still think family dinners are fun?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why are you up so early?”

I glanced back at Landon, who I had thought was still asleep in my bed when I crawled out – an hour earlier than I had initially wanted – in an effort not to wake him.

“I have to go down to the inn this morning,” I said. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“Why do you have to go down to the inn?”

“They’re breaking ground on the greenhouse today, I have to be there to look over the new plans.”

“They’re breaking ground before the plans are complete? That sounds like a bad idea,” Landon grumbled sleepily. “Why don’t you come back over here and I’ll make your morning a little brighter – no construction required.”

That sounded like a heavenly idea – one I actually considered, for about two seconds, until I realized that the one sure route to a bad morning would be for my mom to come looking for me. “I have to go down there,” I replied ruefully. “You don’t want my mom to come and interrupt us, do you?”

Landon considered the question. “I can be quick.”

“How romantic.”

Landon sighed. “Do you want me to come down with you?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Just come down to the inn after you’re ready. I’m sure my mom and aunts will ply you with food before you start your day.”

Landon’s face brightened. “Sounds good.”

I showered quickly, slipping into simple jeans and a T-shirt, and then headed off to the inn. When I got down to the spot where the construction crew had gathered, I wasn’t surprised to see Aunt Tillie already there.

“Why can’t we just go with my plans?” Aunt Tillie was facing off with a man in a hard hat – she was wearing her own, I might add – and she had her hands on her hips, when she wasn’t aggressively gesturing.

“Your plans were good,” the contractor said carefully. “I think these are just a little bit better. Just look at them.”

“I don’t want to look at them,” Aunt Tillie said stubbornly. “This is my greenhouse. I want it done my way.”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand that,” the contractor said. “I just don’t think turrets on a greenhouse are going to work.”

Turrets? Good grief. I picked up my pace and was between Aunt Tillie and the contractor within seconds. “Hi, I’m Bay Winchester,” I said hurriedly. “I’m here to make the hard decisions with you.”

The contractor looked relieved. “I’m Dirk Langstrom,” he replied. “I’m with Langstrom and Sons contracting out of Traverse City. Your family hired us for this project.”

“There was a different guy here the other day,” I started.

“That would be my brother,” Dirk said. “He brought your aunt’s plans back and we worked on them to polish them up. We think you’re really going to like them. Your aunt won’t even look at them, though.”

No big surprise there.  “Why don’t you let me see them?”

Dirk spread the plans out on the hood of a nearby truck. Unfortunately, I had no idea what I was looking at. Dirk seemed to guess that, so he started pointing out specific things in the design. Once he did, the plan started to take shape in my mind. “It looks really nice,” I said.

“We even made room for the dark room over here,” he pointed. “Although I don’t know why you need a dark room in a greenhouse. Is someone a photographer?”

“It’s not that kind of dark room,” I admitted. “That’s where Aunt Tillie makes her wine. She needs a dry and dark place to do it.”

“She makes wine?” Dirk looked like he wanted to laugh.

“I make the best wine in three states,” Aunt Tillie announced as she moved over to look at the plans. “In the world really.”

Dirk took the opportunity to launch into his spiel again and, this time, Aunt Tillie paid attention. When he was done, she met his gaze evenly. “That’s exactly what I had in my plans.”

Dirk opened his mouth to argue with her, but I shook my head to stop him. It just wasn’t worth it. Dirk caught on quickly and smiled at Aunt Tillie. “Then we’re on the same page, then?”

“Of course,” Aunt Tillie said. “Why would you think we weren’t?”

I left Aunt Tillie with Dirk and moved around to watch the other workers. I wasn’t sure what they were doing, but it looked like they were driving wooden stakes into the ground and winding colorful tape around the stakes to outline the edges of the greenhouse so they would have a visual reference.

I caught a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye and turned swiftly. The prickling sensation between my shoulder blades was warning me, but I looked anyway. There she was. The little girl from the cemetery. She was back by the group of trees again – where I had seen her the first time – and she was watching me.

I glanced around at the construction workers, but I wasn’t even a blip on their radar. I carefully made my way over to the girl, making sure that it looked like I was just wandering around the grounds and not heading to a specific point, and then I moved right past her until I was on the other side of the trees and hidden from the view of the workers.

“You’re back.”

The little girl followed me until we were both out of sight. She was still silent, but she didn’t seem quite as jumpy – can ghosts seem jumpy? –
as before.

“I wondered where you had gone to,” I tried again.

“I’m always here.”

I jumped a little when the girl finally spoke. Her voice was small, timid, like she hadn’t had occasion to use it in a long time.

“You’re always at the inn?”

“I’m always here,” the girl repeated.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Here? Here in Hemlock Cove?”

“Why can you see me? No one else can.”

I considered how to answer the question. I didn’t want to scare her away again. I didn’t think telling her I was a witch would be the best way to earn her trust. I decided to go with a watered-down version of the truth. “I have a special ability that lets me see people, people like you, who other people can’t see.”

“You mean ghosts?” The girl asked bluntly.

Well, at least she knew she was dead. That was one conversation I hadn’t been looking forward to having with her. “Yes, ghosts.”

“And you can really see me?”

“I can really see you,” I smiled as I carefully lowered myself to the ground a few feet from her. I didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might scare her off again.

“And you live here?”

“I live in the smaller house,” I explained. “The one right through those trees over there. If you ever need to see me, that’s where I’ll be.”

“But not in the big house?”

“That’s where my family lives,” I replied. “You can go in there, too, if you want.”

“They won’t be mad?”

“No. In fact, my Aunt Tillie will be able to see you, too,” I said. “She’d probably love to talk to you.” Once I told her not to be mean, that is.

“Okay,” the little girl said finally. “Maybe I will.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Erika.”

“What’s your last name?”

The little girl furrowed her brow. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” I said hurriedly. I was hoping that she would remember the longer we talked. “How did you get here, Erika?”

“I’ve been here for a long time.”

“How long?”

The girl shrugged. “It feels like forever.”

“I bet. Did you . . . did you die around here?”

“I don’t know,” the girl said. “I wasn’t here all the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was out by the water for a long time. There was a big building by it. I got bored there, though, so I decided to come here. Only a few people ever went out to the building by the water. I didn’t like it, especially at night.”

“Well, that was a good idea,” I said warmly.

“I was tired of being alone.”

My heart clenched a little in my chest. “Well, you’re not alone now.”

“No,” Erika agreed.

“Erika, do you know how you died?”

Erika thought about it for a second. “No.”

“What do you remember, from being alive, I mean?” I prodded.

“I remember that there were a lot of other kids,” Erika said. “We were all on a boat together.”

“A boat?”

“A big boat,” Erika said. “I had never been on a boat before, so I thought it was really fun at first. Then, we were on the boat so long, that I started to get tired of it.”

I let the little girl tell her story at her own pace.

“I remember getting sick,” Erika said, brow furrowed. “I kept crying for someone to help me, but no one came. I was so hot and I kept throwing up and then I just went to sleep.”

“Were there only kids there? No adults?”

“There were big people, but they didn’t stay in the basement with us.”

“The basement?”

“Below the top of the boat.”

“Okay, I got you,” I said. “Where were the big people?”

“They stayed upstairs mostly,” Erika said. “They would come down to feed us, but they never really talked to us.”

Something about this story was really starting to bug me – and it wasn’t just because I was talking to a ghost. “How many kids were with you?”

“I don’t know how to count,” Erika said. “There were loads of us, though.”

I swallowed hard. “And why didn’t the big people help you when you got sick?”

“I don’t know,” Erika shrugged. “They weren’t nice people. They told us we were going to new homes and to stop crying. All I wanted was to get off the boat. I’m not sure I ever did, though.”

“And then what happened?”

Erika’s face went blank. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I just woke up dead.”

I hadn’t had breakfast yet, but if I had, I would have lost it. A bunch of kids in the bottom of a boat couldn’t add up to anything good. “Erika, I need you to think really hard,” I said. “Did you hear any of the names of the big people?”

“No,” Erika shook her head. “I told you. We didn’t really see them very much. They just kept coming down to tell us to be quiet and if we didn’t keep quiet, we would be hurt.”

If I could have pulled the little girl to me and offered her any sense of solace, I would have. The only think I could offer her now, though, were words. “We’re going to figure this out,” I said. “We’re going to figure this out and get you . . . to a happier place.”

“Home?”

“Where is home?”

“I don’t know,” Erika said. “It’s not here, though. Where I come from, there are different kinds of trees and it’s warmer. It’s warmer all the time. We don’t get the white stuff.”

The white stuff? “You mean snow?”

“Is that what it’s called? Then, no, we don’t get any snow.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can get you home,” I said finally. “I can try to get you some place better, though.”

“How?” Erika looked genuinely curious.

“I don’t know yet,” I forced a smile for her benefit. “I’ll figure it out, though. That I promise you.”

I spent another hour with Erika. It was only after leaving her – with a promise to come back as soon as I could – that I realized I’d missed breakfast at the inn. I thought about calling Landon, he was probably wondering why I didn’t show up, but there was something else I wanted to do first.

Instead of heading towards The Whistler, though, I went to Hypnotic. I wanted to tell Thistle and Clove what I had learned. When I got there, though, I found that I wasn’t the only visitor at the shop.

“Hi, Chief Terry,” I greeted him warmly.

“Bay, what are you doing here?” Chief Terry asked in surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I’ll get there eventually,” I said, finally noticing that Chief Terry wasn’t alone. He had another man with him.

“This is Dean Browning,” Chief Terry said, suddenly realizing he hadn’t introduced us. “He’s the new dock operator.”

“We have a dock operator?” Hemlock Cove didn’t exactly have a busy port. In fact, the only boats that usually came in – or launched – were small fishing boats owned by local denizens. In the summer, tourists rented boats for quick excursions, but it’s not like any commercial boats ever made a stop in Hemlock Cove. If they ever had in the past, they certainly weren’t doing so now.

“Well, he’s not just going to be working on the dock,” Chief Terry conceded. “He’s also going to be working on restoring the Dandridge. The dock job is more of a part-time thing.”

I blanked out for a second. I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about.

“The Dandridge,” Thistle furrowed her brow. “That old lighthouse?”

“Yeah,” Chief Terry nodded. “The building has been falling apart for ages.”

An old building by the lake. Erika’s words chimed in my head, chilling me from within. “What’s the deal with the Dandridge?”

“What do you mean?” Chief Terry looked confused. He was used to the scattered chaos that often masqueraded as my brain, but this time, even he couldn’t keep up.

“I mean, what’s the history behind it?”

“I don’t know,” Chief Terry said. “ Do I look like a history professor? I would have to look it up.”

I turned to Dean expectantly. “Do you know the history of it?”

Dean looked surprised by the question, but happy to converse. “It was initially built in 1847 and was in general use up until the 1960s.”

“Why did they build it here?”

“There are some dangerous rock formations out a little further in the bay,” Dean explained. “I wasn’t on the original planning committee but, back then, lighthouses were usually built as a safety precaution.”

“So, why would people just let it fall by the wayside?”

“Older lighthouses are a lot of money to keep up,” Dean shrugged. “They probably thought it was cheaper to let it go. And with modern updates, lighthouses can be tricky to refurbish.”

“But you want to refurbish it? Why?”

“I like lighthouses,” Dean shrugged. “I like the history behind them. Plus, given this town’s little niche, I thought I could turn it into a tourist destination. You know, a haunted lighthouse”

I ignored the haunted comment. What could I tell him? It was really haunted? That probably wasn’t the best tactic. “So, you bought it?”

“Not exactly,” Dean hedged. “It’s more like I leased it.”

“You can lease a lighthouse?” Clove looked surprised.

“The state owns the land,” Dean explained. “I have come to an agreement with them. If I refurbish the lighthouse, I can have operating rights over it for ten years. After that time, they’re willing to work out an extended deal. We’ll see where it goes. There’s a lot of work to be done out there. The building itself is sound, but it needs some cosmetic work and the grounds are a mess.”

“It sounds like a great project,” I said honestly, an idea forming. “How would you feel about me doing a story on it for the paper?”

“Really?” Dean looked tickled, running a hand through his brown hair excitedly. “That would be great.”

“I would want to go out there, you know, get a feel for the property,” I said.

“Sure, we can set something up for next week, if that works for you?” Dean said.

“Sounds great,” I agreed, taking his business card from him and shoving it in my back pocket. “I’ll call you.”

I made small talk with Chief Terry and Dean for a few more minutes and then waited until they were safely on the other side of the door before I spoke again.

“The ghost is back.”

“The little black girl?” Clove asked curiously.

“Her name is Erika.”

“She talked to you?” Thistle said. “Well, that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Not after what I tell you,” I said grimly. When I was finished with the story, Clove looked ashen and Thistle looked enraged.

“I want to hit somebody,” Thistle said. “A bunch of kids in a boat? Not allowed out? You know what that means, right?”

“It’s not a three-hour tour, that’s for sure,” I agreed.

“That’s why you want to go out to the Dandridge,” Clove said suddenly. “The little girl said she was by a building that was falling down, by the water.”

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“You’re not going to be able to talk to Erika out by the lighthouse with Dean there,” Thistle pointed out.

“No, I agreed.”

“So we’re going, all three of us,” Thistle said, she looked excited at the prospect. “We’ll go out there and explore.”

“You doing anything this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” Thistle said. “We’re going to check out a haunted lighthouse.”

“I don’t know,” Clove hedged. “It could be all gross out there. Maybe there’s a body. I might just stay here.”

“Fine,” Thistle said irritably. “But when Bay and I solve a child trafficking ring, you’re going to be the one that stayed at the store – and we’re not letting you have any of the glory.”

I frowned. I didn’t like the way she put it, but it was an effective argument.

“Fine,” Clove blew out a sigh. “And, just FYI, for all we know, that little girl died decades ago. We don’t know that she died recently. She told Bay she had been here a long time. There might not be any children to save anymore. Why do I think this is going to lead us to nothing but trouble?”

“Because you’re a pessimist?” I suggested.

“No, because this has trouble written all over it,” Clove countered. “I can feel it.”

“Are you getting a vision?” I asked hopefully. “Maybe one that says this is all going to turn out fine?”

“I don’t get visions, remember?”

“Well, I thought maybe you suddenly could.”

“No, you hoped,” Thistle replied. “We’re going out to a lighthouse in the middle of the day. There’s nothing dangerous about that.”

“Maybe Bay should call Landon, just to tell him where we’ll be,” Clove suggested. “Just in case we go missing or something.”

“That won’t make Landon happy,” Thistle pointed out.

She had a point. “Let’s just keep it between the three of us for now,” I said finally. “We don’t even know if the lighthouse has anything to do with this. There could be lots of abandoned buildings by the water.”

“It’s seems like too much of a coincidence,” Thistle said. “Like the powers are driving us there. I mean, what are the odds that we would find out the lighthouse is being refurbished right after your little ghost decides to start talking?”

I didn’t say it out loud, but I agreed with her.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” I said. “First, we go to the lighthouse. After that? We’ll figure it out.”

“To the lighthouse it is,” Thistle agreed.

“I just know this is a bad idea,” Clove grumbled. “At least we’re not sneaking around in the snow this time.”

“See, you can see the bright side,” Thistle said.