“Yeah,” Diana cracked. “A ballerina.” She hooted a laugh. “Weren’t too many options open to me. But when I saw that I had a certain knack-” She hesitated, as if something had just occurred to her. “Okay, what’s his name? No, wait, don’t tell me.”
It was Carolyn’s turn to sigh. “There you go, reading my mind again.”
“It used to drive Mama crazy, my ‘knack,’” Diana said. “I’d know everything she was going to say to me two and half minutes before she actually got it out of her mouth.”
“You told me you don’t pry,” Carolyn chided gently.
Diana frowned. “Sometimes it just pops into my head without me trying. Oh, I know his name. It’s Douglas.”
Carolyn nodded.
Diana’s face turned sympathetic. “And he’s one of the ones in danger, isn’t he?”
Carolyn nodded again.
“From what you told me on the phone, this is something I don’t have a lot of experience with.” Diana rested her head back against the pillow of the chaise. “I mean, when Mama learned of my abilities she brought in lots of teachers for me. Haitian witch doctors and psychics and Wiccan shamans, all sorts of people. I learned all the arcane arts about zombies and voodoo and witchcraft, but I don’t know all that much about your run-of-the-mill ghosts.”
“Oh, these aren’t run-of-the-mill, let me assure you,” Carolyn said dryly.
“What I mean is, if this Beatrice person had been a gypsy or something, and had cast a gypsy curse on the family, I might know how to reverse it. There are books on that. Spells you can memorize. Incantations and charms.” She closed her eyes, as if thinking. “But Beatrice was just a girl, right?”
“As far as I know.”
“Then I’m not sure what I can do. Ghosts are just people, you know. They’re people freed from their physical bodies. That means they can act out by levitating things or appearing and disappearing or traveling far distances in a nanosecond.” She seemed to consider this, and a wry smile crossed her face. “Gee, can’t wait until I’m a ghost.”
“Diana, you have to help me,” Carolyn said. “Or point me to someone who can.”
“Sweetie, I know this is personal for you. Believe me, your thoughts are coming through loud and clear on that.” She rested her head back against the chaise and closed her eyes. “The trick is to make contact with the spirit who’s causing all this destruction. She’s pissed off, and there’s no spell to counteract that. You’ve got to convince her to stop, to end the cycle of death.”
“But Kip tried that,” Carolyn argued. “He actually was able to walk Beatrice out of the room. It was as if they set her free.”
“And then she came back?” Diana smirked. “That’s one pissed-off, determined ghost.”
“That’s just it,” Carolyn said. “In every contact with Beatrice, she hasn’t manifested as angry. She’s sad. She has never been a threatening presence. The word she kept repeating when Kip was able to record her was ‘love.’”
“All you need is love, bum da da da dum,” Diana sang, a snippet of an old Beatles tune. “Then I don’t get how she could be killing people.”
“Douglas thinks it’s the other spirit who’s doing the killing.”
“The guy with the pitchfork.”
Carolyn nodded. “Clem. And there’s definitely a case to be made for that. Douglas’s cousin Ryan was nearly killed by the ghost of Clem a week or so ago.”
Diana made a face of confusion. “But that would go against all precedent, wouldn’t it? The killings only happen in the room. If they take place elsewhere, it’s because procedures weren’t followed in regard to the room. In this case, it’s not even time yet to send anyone in there. Why would Clem attempt to kill someone so soon?”
“I don’t think Ryan was actually in any danger. I think it was a scare tactic. According to the notes kept by other investigators, it’s not uncommon in the weeks before the lottery for family members to have terrifying brushes with the spirits. I think it’s just a way to keep the family on its toes, and to make sure they go through with the lottery.”
“Well, then it’s simple. We contact Clem. Get him to back off.”
Carolyn nodded. “I agree we need to try to reach him. And Beatrice, too. At least to gain more information, if possible.”
“But you don’t think Clem is the one doing the killings?”
“Oh, he may well be. It would seem his energy is far more aggressive and destructive than Beatrice’s. He certainly seems capable of doing it. But Ryan said a curious thing.” Carolyn paused, wanting to get the words right. “He felt as if Clem was being led. In life, Clem was a slow, rather stupid man. I think his brute energy is being manipulated, used for someone else’s advantage. Someone else’s revenge. Ryan said that as Clem came after him, another voice was heard, urging him on. ‘Kill him,’ the voice said.”
“Whose voice?”
“Ryan didn’t know. But it was not a man’s voice.”
“So Beatrice.”
Carolyn sighed. “I suppose.”
“It makes sense. You said that Clem was in love with her. Now she wants revenge on the family, so she’s using the spirit of a man who, even now, would still do anything for her.”
Carolyn shook her head. “But why would Beatrice want revenge on the family? The Youngs were good to her.”
“As far as we know,” Diana said. “But might there be something lost to history? Something she blames the family for?”
“Possibly the loss of her baby,” Carolyn said. “Apparently Desmond Young gave the baby away after Beatrice’s death. Maybe the new parents didn’t prove to be good caretakers, because I suspect the baby died soon afterward. Some in the family have reported seeing a ghostly baby over the years. So perhaps Beatrice blames the Youngs for not taking care of her baby, for not finding it a good home.”
“I assume this baby, what you keep referring to as ‘it,’ had a gender?”
Carolyn sighed. “I’m sure it did, but I don’t know if it was a boy or a girl. Old Harry Noons, the man on Kip’s tape, never said, and there are no records of the baby at all at the Youngsport town hall or in the newspapers at the time. I know this is true. I checked and rechecked before I left.”
“Well, it’s a theory, anyway,” Diana agreed. “A mother’s love can be a strong, enduring force. But until you make contact with Beatrice, you can’t be sure of why or who or what or when.”
“I know.” Carolyn smiled “So can you help me?”
“I suppose it could make a good book,” Diana said, her eyes twinkling.
Carolyn beamed. “Thank you. I’m heading back up to Maine the day after tomorrow. Mr. Young is sending a chartered plane. I’ll tell him we’ll have an additional passenger.”
“Well, I don’t take up a lot of room,” Diana said with a wink. “Actually, though, you should make that two additional passengers. Fraulein Schmitz would be very aggrieved if I didn’t take her.”
Almost as if on cue, the door opened, and a stocky, broad-shouldered, white-haired woman in her seventies huffed inside carrying two brown paper bags of groceries. Huldah Schmitz was Diana’s German-born nurse and companion, hired years ago by Diana’s mother and at her side fiercely ever since. Huldah was a tough woman of few words, but she made sure that Diana’s meals were made and baths were taken and doctors’ appointments were kept. Diana could do many things on her own-her disability had never kept her down-but Huldah was there to handle those occasional things that proved too much even for Diana’s ingenuity. Carolyn had met her when she’d worked with Diana before. She liked her, even if Huldah’s most frequent reply to a question was a grunt.
“We’re going to Maine,” Diana called over to her as the nurse began putting groceries away in the kitchen. If there was a reply, even a grunt, they didn’t hear it.