The House of Secrets. Terry Thomas Lynn

you experience things.

      ‘Zeke knows there’s no way you could have shot Jack Bennett. He’s worried about you. In fact, he approached me about your psychic ability. He thinks you may be a medium. I know that you took a terrible fall off the second-storey landing at Bennett House. Did you know an incident like that can trigger latent psychic abilities?’

      ‘I didn’t,’ I said. ‘Does Zeke believe your theory?’

      ‘Zeke is an educated, open-minded man, with a healthy dose of scepticism that will keep me honest. You need to talk to him. He wants to know why you experience these things. You can’t blame him for that, can you? If you were in his shoes, wouldn’t you want as much information as possible?’

      I didn’t get a chance to answer. The door burst open and Minna rushed in, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes wild, her breathing hard and fast.

      ‘What’s happened?’

      ‘Matthew, I swear I’m going mad.’

      Matthew got up and went to Minna. He put his arm around her, and led her to the small love seat in the corner of his office.

      ‘I’ve seen him, Matthew. I swear on my life that your brother is alive.’ Minna sat down in the chair and buried her hands in her face. ‘He’s going to kill you. He’s coming after us.’

      ‘Minna, Gregory’s dead.’ Dr Geisler met my eyes. I motioned towards the door. He nodded his head. I flung the door open, ready to flee to the safety of my own room, but I collided with Bethany. We almost toppled over, but Bethany remained upright and held me fast.

      ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realize—’ I didn’t realize you were eavesdropping.

      ‘I wanted to see my husband, but Minna—’ The skin on her cheeks blossomed into an unbecoming shade of red.

      ‘She’s quite shaken.’

      ‘That woman is going to be the end of us.’ She shivered and rubbed her arms. ‘She’s clearly worked herself into a frenzy. Do you know what’s wrong?’

      ‘She mentioned someone named Gregory. I thought it best I leave.’

      ‘Good thinking. I need to speak to them. I’m sorry you had to witness that, Sarah. My sitting room is just a few doors down from your room. I’ve got shelves of books in there. Help yourself. Borrow anything you like. Lunch will be served in half an hour. I’ll see you then.’

      She rapped twice on the door and let herself in.

       Chapter Three

      After a simple lunch of potatoes au gratin and broccoli I went back to my typewriter. I had just settled into my work when Dr Geisler knocked on my door. He stepped into the room. Energy crackled off him like bolts of lightning. He rose up on the balls of his feet and rocked back down on his heels.

      ‘Sarah, would you like to come with Minna and me to visit a house?’ He stood before my desk, rocking and bobbing.

      ‘Visit a house?’

      ‘A woman named Virginia Wills is turning her house over to the City to house servicemen. She doesn’t want to live there anymore, but can’t bear to part with it. She believes her grandfather is angry with her. She wants to try to reach him.’

      ‘Why can’t she talk to him herself?’ The minute I uttered the words I knew the answer to my question.

      ‘Because he’s dead. Don’t you see what an opportunity this is? I’ll bring you and Minna. If we’re lucky, one of you will sense something. This could be the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for. Don’t worry, there’s no pressure. Mrs Wills won’t even know that you have the ability to see ghosts. She thinks that Minna is the psychic, and we won’t disabuse her of that idea, unless, of course, you see something.’

      I hesitated.

      ‘Of course, if you’d rather not, I understand. I just thought you might be interested.’

      ‘I’ll just get my coat,’ I said as I pushed away from the desk.

      Minutes later, I stood before my vanity, trying to tuck my flyaway curls into some semblance of order when there was a rap at my door.

      ‘Yes.’ I pinched my cheeks, trying to force some colour into them. The pinching didn’t work.

      ‘It’s Minna.’

      She glided into my room in one graceful motion. Her hair had been swept up into a subtle but elegant French twist, and held into place by a silver-filigreed comb. Her black dress flowed over her sinewy body in waves.

      ‘I come bearing gifts.’ She held out a burlap sack that smelled of lavender and tangerine. ‘It’s soaking salts. I wanted to apologize for bursting in on you today.’

      She wore no shoes, so her white feet, with their high arches and callused toes, stood out against the black of her hemline. I recognized those calluses. I had seen them on my adoptive mother, Jessica Bennett, the result of many years spent en pointe as a principal for the San Francisco ballet, a career sidelined after a knee injury.

      ‘I bought them at City of Paris. There’s a seashell in the bag that you use as a scoop.’

      ‘They smell wonderful. Thank you,’ I said.

      ‘You know, Magnin’s victory window broadcasts KYA live each day at noon. Would you like to go some time?’

      The radio station’s victory window was quickly becoming famous. Last week Lana Turner showed up and broadcast live on the air, while an enthusiastic crowd gathered outside the window. Was I ready to face a crowded Union Square? The thought of it raised my heart rate.

      Not wanting to explain myself, I pretended to hesitate. ‘I’d like to, I’m just not quite ready to be out in public yet. The trial – I encounter hostility at times.’

      ‘That will pass.’ She moved over to my dresser and stood before my seascapes that lay on top of it. She leaned close and studied them.

      ‘This room suits you. Its colours are warm and bright. Like you.’ She reached out a finger and traced a slow, sensuous line over one of the paintings. ‘Did you paint these?’

      ‘No. I brought them from home. They were done by a Bennett Cove artist.’

      ‘The brush work is remarkable.’ Minna took a deep breath. ‘Listen, Sarah, I wanted to explain what happened to me earlier, if you don’t mind. It’s rather strange and no one believes me.’

      ‘There’s no need to explain. I understand.’

      ‘But you don’t.’

      I watched with dismay as she sat on my bed, folded her hands on her lap, and kept her eyes riveted on them as she spoke. ‘Twenty-seven years ago I stood Matthew’s brother up at the altar. I left Gregory standing there, rejected him at Grace Cathedral with 200 people as witness. He never forgave me. Two days later he crashed his car, probably on purpose. They said that it was completely incinerated in the fire. The body was burned to ashes. But I think Gregory is here. I’ve seen him. He’s either a ghost come back to get revenge on me for leaving, or he didn’t die at all. I’ve seen him, and I’m frightened.’

      I recognized her look of desperation. I had experienced it myself when I had seen things that no one wanted to believe.

      ‘Tell me,’ I said. ‘Where have you seen him? If he’s alive, the police should be called.’

      ‘I’ve called the police,’ she said. ‘I filed two reports, but they dismissed me. They had the audacity to tell me I was seeing things and blamed it on the war, if you can believe that. I’m afraid if I call again, they will make good on their threat to have me committed to an asylum. I couldn’t bear that.’