What's A Ghoul To Do? Part 27

Annalise gave him a dark look. "He said he wanted to see Shanah. He said he'd heard she'd been having some health issues lately. Which he probably heard through Andy at the pharmacy running his mouth again, but he wanted to make sure she was okay."

"Why would he care, Annalise?" Steven said meanly.

I watched the two of them in silence, wondering about the history here. It was obvious that there was more to the Annalise and Steven Senior story than I was privy to. "He's changed, Steven."

"Bulls.h.i.+t."

"He says that he wants to be a part of her life. He's willing to step up to the plate and take care of us."

Steven studied her for a long, tense moment, his mouth a thin line of anger mixed with frustration. Then, very quietly, he said, "Annalise, please. Be wise about this man. He will say these things, and then he will leave-just the way he left me and my mother. You will be hurting yourself and Shanah by trusting him."

It was Annalise's turn to get angry. "That's enough," she snapped. "This is none of your business, anyway. I appreciate all you've done for us, Steven, but you're letting your own feelings of resentment for your father color your opinion. I'll decide what's best for Shanah and me."

Steven held her gaze until she was finished. "I just have one question for you," he said quietly. "How can you be sure he's really changed? That this time will be different?"

"I looked into his eyes, Steven; he wasn't lying. He told me it was time he stepped up and took responsibility for Shanah. He's even willing to take a paternity test."

Steven's face darkened, and I found myself a little frightened by the look he was giving the tabletop. After an awkward silence he said, "Come, M.J. It's time to go."

I gave Annalise an apologetic shrug of my shoulders and got up as well. "Thank you for the coffee," I said as I followed him through the kitchen.

"Don't mention it," she said, not turning around.

We made it back to the B and B without further comment. Steven's mood seemed dangerous, and I didn't want to poke the bear, so I let it go. When we got inside I hurried up the stairs to shower, then came down with Doc on my shoulder.

Gilley was seated at the dining room table, sipping coffee, the big pillow he'd used on the couch firmly tucked under him on the chair at the table. "Hey, girlfriend," he said happily.

"Doc wants a berry!" my bird squawked.

"Hey, Gil," I said as I took my seat, and set Doc on the table to nibble at the bowl of blueberries that Helen had set out.

"Where's Dr. Delicious?" Gil asked.

"I don't know," I said, looking around. "Probably upstairs being gloomy."

"Did you shut him out last night?" Gil asked with a grin.

My cheeks flushed as I reached for the plate of pancakes in the middle of the table. "Noooo," I said, stretching the word out. "I saw his father's car parked in front of that waitress's house this morning on my jog, and when I told him about it he insisted on going over there."

"He confronted his father?"

I forked a bit of pancake into my mouth before answering. "No, his father had gone by then. But he did confront the waitress."

"What's the connection?" Gil wanted to know.

"It appears that Steven Senior may have fathered another child."

"The waitress!" waitress!"

"The waitress's daughter. The poor little girl is mentally handicapped and suffering from a few other health issues."

"Does she look like Steven Senior?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Mostly she looks like her mom, but there might be a resemblance. You'd have to do a blood test to be sure, but it was pretty clear to me from the conversation that Senior is headed in that direction."

Gilley thought about that for a bit before saying, "So, this would be an heir he could control, someone who would never challenge him. Someone he could lock away in some inst.i.tution if he wanted to ..."

Gilley's voice trailed off, and I paused with the fork halfway to my mouth as I realized Steven Senior could- and probably would-do just that. "Awww, man," I said as I set the fork down. "I hadn't thought of that. You're right. He's got enough money that he could probably get custody of her from her mother. Then he could lock her away for the rest of her life and not worry about her growing up and becoming a pain in the a.s.s."

"Which leaves one little sticking point left," Gilley said.

"Steven Junior."

"Bingo."

I sighed and pushed my plate away. "Which still begs the question of why is this neck of the woods so important to Senior? It's undeveloped forest. What's the attraction?"

"Not sure, M.J.," Gilley said. "But I plan to find out."

"You ready?" we heard from the hallway.

I looked up, and Gilley swiveled in his seat to see Steven standing there. "Where're we off to?" I asked.

"Back to the lodge. I want you to try to make contact with my grandfather again. I need to prove that my father killed him so I can keep him from hurting Annalise and Shanah."

Just then Helen rushed in from the kitchen holding the phone. "Steven!" she said, her voice sharp. "It's your house sitter. He says there's been a break-in at your house!"

Steven took the phone, and Gilley and I listened as he talked for a few minutes in short, clipped sentences like, "When?" and, "Where were you at the time?" and finally, "What was taken?" He ended the call shortly after that, and we looked at him expectantly. "Someone broke into my home last night and made a mess of my bathroom."

"What would they want in your bathroom?" I asked.

"Probably drugs. The thief may have known I'm a doctor."

"How come you're just hearing about it?" I asked, wondering why the intern staying at his house hadn't called him earlier.

"My house sitter worked the midnight s.h.i.+ft last night, and when he got home he called my cell phone." I c.o.c.ked my head sideways, wondering where he was going with this. Steven added, "The one I left in the pool."

I looked at Gilley, who was also struggling to follow along. "Why would you go swimming with your cell phone?"

"It's a long story," I said quickly. "Come on, Steven; we need to get a move on." And I got up, giving Doc a kiss on the top of his head. "Call me if you come up with something, Gil," I said as Steven and I headed to the door.

"Gotcha," he said with a grin. "Good luck, you two."

As we headed out to the Aston I saw that elusive gray sedan cruise slowly by the B and B. I tried to glance in the window to see who was behind the wheel, but the windows were tinted and I couldn't get a good look. "What?" I heard Steven ask.

I glanced back at Steven. "Nothing," I said with a shrug, but inside I didn't like the ugly feeling I got when I thought about that car.

Steven and I drove back to the Manse in stony silence. His dark mood of earlier hadn't changed, and I was pretty sure hearing that his house had been broken into for a second time wasn't helping to lighten his frame of mind. Rather than try to talk to him, I allowed him to simmer for a bit.

We arrived at the lodge and Steven coasted his car into a slot near the front door. Once he'd put the car into park he turned to me and offered, "I'm sorry I've been irritated. I'm worried about how things are unwrapping."

"Do you want to call the Cambridge police and follow up with them?" I asked.

"Not right now. I don't think I can keep my temper from going kaboom."

I smiled a little as I opened the car door. "Got it, but just remember I'm one of the good guys, okay?"

"I am noting this," he said, following me up the front stairs to the door. We got inside and listened for any noise that might indicate that Andrew or Maureen was afoot. We heard nothing, and Steven looked to me for the next move.

I nodded and closed my eyes, centering my energy, and then opened that conduit in my brain that could hear what others couldn't. Andrew? Andrew? I called out in my mind. I called out in my mind. Maureen? Maureen? I waited a few heartbeats, then opened my eyes and motioned to Steven. I had felt the smallest of tugs from the third floor. I waited a few heartbeats, then opened my eyes and motioned to Steven. I had felt the smallest of tugs from the third floor.

Steven and I climbed the staircase in silence, pausing every few steps to listen. As we mounted the second-floor landing we both heard a thump from overhead. "What was that?" Steven whispered.

"I think it's Maureen," I said, and continued to climb. "Come on; she might be willing to talk to me."

We made our way to the third floor and quietly walked down the hallway, ears straining for the slightest sound that might indicate a ghost was afoot. As we approached the bedroom where we'd seen Maureen we heard a much louder thump, followed by a dragging noise. Steven jumped and grabbed my shoulder. "I think there's someone in there," he whispered in my ear.

I nodded and whispered back, "It's Maureen. Come on. She won't hurt you."

We moved slowly into the doorway of the bedroom and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place, but the hair on my arms was standing on end. "It's cold in here," Steven said as he rubbed his arms.

He was right; the temperature felt frigid. We moved farther into the room, waiting and watching. Nothing happened. Finally, I decided to call out to Maureen to try to provoke a reaction. "Maureen?" I said. "We need to talk to you. Please let us know if you're here."

Immediately after I said that there was a crack behind us, and Steven and I jumped as we turned around. I pointed to the nightstand, where the framed picture of Maureen was now facedown. "Thank you, Maureen," I said. "I know you can hear me, and I need your help. Andrew is in trouble. He's stuck and he can't move forward until we understand what happened to him. Can you help us? Can you guide us to help Andrew?"

There was a moment when nothing happened, and then, without warning, a huge chest of drawers on the opposite wall rattled and moved forward several inches. Steven again gripped my arm. "G.o.dd.a.m.n!" he hissed. "I don't like when she does that."

I smiled and patted his hand. "She's trying to show us something," I said as I watched the bureau. I decided to reach out again to her. "Thank you, Maureen. I see you're over by the bureau now. But we still need your help with Andrew. I think you know what happened to him. I can hear you if you're willing to talk. Please try to communicate with me."

Without warning I felt a shriek in my mind so loud I dropped to my knees. "Unnh!" I said, holding my head in my hands.

"M.J.?" Steven said, his voice alarmed. "What's happened?"

With effort I got to my feet. "She screamed," I said.

"She did?" he asked me, like he'd missed something.

"Yes, in my head. She screamed. I keep getting this wave of anger with her. She's definitely very upset about something."

"Well, this is ridiculous," he groused. "I mean, we can't keep going around chasing the geese with this woman. Maybe she is intending to lead us in the wrong direction? Remember the last time? She said follow the d.a.m.n bees, and look at what happened ..."

Suddenly the giant bureau seemed to jiggle; then we both jumped as it came cras.h.i.+ng toward us. "Holy Mother of G.o.d!" Steven yelled as he pulled me out of the way. "She's trying to kill us!"

Again I heard a loud shriek in my head, which caused me to wince, but then there was a word that followed that I was able to catch. Letters Letters ... it said. ... it said.

My eye went to the bureau, and cautiously I moved over to it. "What are you doing?" Steven asked. "M.J., keep away from there and let's get out of here! This was a bad idea."

I held up a finger to my lips and gave him a pointed look. I didn't want him to upset Maureen any more than she already was. He gave me a scowl in reply, and I felt another tug toward the bottom of the bureau. I walked carefully around the side over near the wall, and that was when I saw a small pack of letters taped to the underbelly of the bureau.

I looked up at Steven and shot him a smile. "She's not trying to kill us after all," I said to him as I reached down and tugged the letters free. "She's trying to show us something."

Steven gave me a puzzled look and came over to inspect the bundle. "What are these?" he asked.

I sifted through them, trying to determine that myself. There were about twenty letters, old and worn and written in a lovely fluid style. Though they were in envelopes, nothing but the word Andrew Andrew was on the front. I opened the first one and began to read. was on the front. I opened the first one and began to read.

My darling, Andrew, Thank you for a lovely evening last night. I had such a wonderful time. I never would have guessed you knew so much about the stars. How special it was to walk in the moonlight, holding your hand and feeling like the luckiest woman alive. . ..

"They're love letters," I said as I flipped through the pages.

"To my grandfather," Steven said as I opened one and began to read. "And they're signed by Maureen."

"Really?" I asked. "This one is signed M. Did she spell it out in yours?"

"No, but it's clear to me who M is."

"I don't know," I said as I felt Maureen come into my energy and give a shake of her head. "I don't think Maureen agrees with you."

"Who else could it be? I mean, we already know they had an affair."

"Mirabelle?" I asked.

"Ewwww," Steven said. "I can't imagine my grandfather bonking a mother and daughter."

"Bonking?"

"Yes, you know. Like what we almost did the other night."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "The term is boinking, boinking, and if that's what you're calling what nearly happened with us the other night, then don't ever plan on it actually happening." and if that's what you're calling what nearly happened with us the other night, then don't ever plan on it actually happening."

"Hey," he said, sweeping my hair behind my ear. "That was rude of me. I would not bonk you."

"Boink," I said adamantly. I said adamantly.

Steven grinned at me. "Come, let's take these letters downstairs and read them. I can't find a date. Can you?"

"No," I answered, shuffling through the envelopes I had. "There's no postmark, so these weren't mailed. Whoever wrote them must have given them to Andrew directly, which means she would have been local."

"Let's go to the kitchen to read them. I want to get out of this room before more furniture attacks us."

Steven and I headed back downstairs to the kitchen, and we each pulled up a bar stool. While I read through a stack, Steven made some tea for both of us, then joined me at the counter, and we read in silence until we'd made it through our pile of letters.

"What do you think?" he asked me as I put down the last letter.