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"The Unwilling Heir"


Chapter 1
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 1

By Begin Again

Ryan sighed, looking up at the ominous clouds in the distance. "You know, a person as sweet as me could melt if those clouds decide to open up. Any of you clowns bring an umbrella?"

A tall, distinguished-looking gentleman in the group rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Ryan. You're not made of sugar. And no, none of us brought an umbrella. So, let's get this over with."

'You know what I think?" Benny wore a plaid flannel over a white T-shirt and jeans, unlike the others who wore suits.

"No one cares what you think," Ryan snarled. "You probably think we should just pop her and put her in the casket, too."

Benny sneered, "You're nuts! I wouldn't put that bag of bones in the same box as Noah. He was my friend, remember?"

James stood still, his eyes transfixed on the towering iron gates marking the entrance to Willow Creek Cemetery. As he waited, a solemn procession of long, black limousines slowly emerged from behind the gates and began to wind their way up the hill toward the burial grounds. The quiet hum of the engines echoed through the stillness of the air, adding to the eerie ambiance of the scene.

"I'm thinking we should walk right up to the widow, real official-like, and express our condolences for her loss —"

"Yeah, and then drop it on her." Benny chuckled. "Madeline Wakefield, we're here to investigate the death of your late husband. We suspect foul play."

Judge Parker stepped forward, trying to sound authoritative. "Listen, we've already decided, so just shut your mouths, and let's get this over with."

"Always have to have the last word, don't you?" Benny sniffed and turned away.

"The Judge is right. We stick to the plan." James sighed. "The procession is coming up the hill."

"I'm telling you, James, this is a bad idea." Ryan paced back and forth near the gravesite as he watched the line of cars.

"It's the only way," Judge Parker's eyes narrowed as the grieving widow exited the car. "Unless one of you has a better idea. Save your breath because I already know you don't."

James shook his head. "We've been through this, guys. The girl is the key to Noah's death. Show a little respect, will you?"

Benny's eyes had a strange gleam as he smiled, a sly smirk on his face. "I could have easily taken her out." He pointed his finger at the widow and mimicked the sound of a gun, holding up his finger.

Ryan's left eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Benny, it's your crazy ideas that got you in this mess," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm not the only one in this mess, Detective." Benny sneered at Ryan, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You're no better than me. Weren't you the one sitting in your car outside the mansion with blood all over your clothes and hands?" Turning to the Judge, he added, "And I got the scoop on you too."

"Shut up, both of you. Your arguing could wake the dead," the Judge interjected, his voice stern.

Benny's eyes widened at the Judge's remark. "God forbid! I might have put some of these people six feet under." He looked upward and whispered, "Forgive me, Father," while signing the cross. He shrugged. "But trust me, most of them deserved it," he assured the Lord.

*****

Six somber-looking men dressed in dark suits and ties were carefully carrying a silver casket up the steep and winding hill toward the burial site of Noah Wakefield. The recently widowed woman, dressed in a long black dress, wore a wide-brimmed black hat and a veil that obscured her face from curious onlookers. She dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes with a white lace handkerchief and a faint smile on her lips as if relishing the attention she was about to receive at her deceased husband's graveside.

James let out a deep and audible sigh, his eyes scanning the grounds before he spoke in a low and urgent tone. "They're almost here. You three need to leave right now before they see you."

"See us?" The three men disappeared, leaving James to greet the widow.

*****

The six men carefully positioned the casket on the stand. At the same time, the soft melody of "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" played in the background, filling the chapel tent with a mournful atmosphere. James greeted the widow as Madeline entered the tent and led her toward a seat. "Was this song your choice or Noah's?"

"It was mine. It reminds me how Noah would do anything for me." Madeline smiled.

James chuckled. "You were down and out when he rescued you from the streets."

"We were in love." People were milling around, and Madeline didn't like the conversation. She lowered her voice and spoke, "I'm surprised to see you here, James, since you rarely leave the carriage house." She smiled, but it wasn't a warm one. "Lucky for you, Noah left the run-down place to you. I would have torn it down."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm here for Noah and no other reason, Madeline. We were friends."

She snarled, "Friends! Almost a couple, I'd say. My husband spent more time in the carriage house garden with you than with me."

"He found peace there. He wasn't one to enjoy all the parties and your wild friends." James scanned the mourners. "Not too many of them made it to the services, I see."

"They'll be at the house, I am sure." Madeline smiled. "It's a catered affair."

"The last big blowout before you are forced to move." James couldn't hide his satisfaction.

"Don't start celebrating because I'm not going anywhere. That woman will not force me out of my home."

"That woman has a name!" He fought to control the anger building inside him. "Sandra Monroe isn't doing anything, Madeline. It was Noah's decision."

"The man was sick. His mind was confused." Madeline stared at the casket. "He — he loved me. He wanted me to have the best of everything." She sneered, "When we were married, he promised me the mansion. And it's mine, now."

"You and I know your marriage was a sham. He believed your lies, and his soft heart rescued you from the life you were living. Regretfully, he learned the truth." James leaned toward her. "Admit it! You were a prostitute working out of a brothel, and Noah was your sucker."

Madeline's eyes flared with fury as she slapped James's face. "Liar! How dare you defame me?" She moved toward Noah's casket and sobbed. "Noah, darling, do you see his cruelty now?"
 
James walked away, leaving her so-called friends to comfort her.

*****

Sandra felt uncomfortable attending Noah Wakefield's funeral, a request from a stranger. She had parked her car further away from the procession, giving herself time to observe the gathering from a distance. Standing outside her car, she fought the urge to climb back inside and drive away. Sandra asked herself the same questions she'd been asking since receiving the letter. "Who are you? And why am I here?"

She'd chosen a black pantsuit and a string of pearls, a gift from her fiance, Michael. As she stood in the cemetery, surrounded by the headstones, memories of her own flooded her thoughts, and she couldn't help but shiver. It felt like it had been just yesterday, not three years ago. She'd understood Michael's illness was terminal. They'd even had long conversations about it. However, when the time finally came, she realized she was unprepared to face the reality of it all. She wondered if she'd ever be able to love again.

The music drifted across the rows of gravestones, reaching Sandra's ears. When she recognized the song, Sandra smiled, asking, "Are you sending me a sign, Michael?" She remembered he had requested the same song to be played at his funeral, reassuring her of his eternal presence.

She adjusted her jacket, brushing away a few cookie crumbs. Another thing she'd shared with Michael. She was ready. "Well, Sandra, it's now or never."

Her confidence faded as she weaved through the rows of headstones. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she remembered what had brought her to a stranger's funeral — the letter!

Yesterday, she received a letter from a judge saying she'd inherited a mansion in Willow Creek, a place she'd never heard of before, from someone she didn't know. There was only one condition: she was to attend Noah Wakefield's funeral. She'd tossed the letter in the trash, thinking it was a hoax. Still, her curiosity got the best of her after reading Noah's obituary.

She decided to make an appearance and then leave. Nobody would even know she was there if she remained in the back.

As she approached the gathering at the gravesite, Sandra noticed Madeline, the widow, standing at the head of the casket. Anguish was written on her face, and streaks of mascara dotted her face. She clutched a tissue in her trembling hand, holding back the tears. Sandra's heart went out to her. She knew all too well the pain of losing a loved one.

Sandra stepped forward, extending her hand to offer her condolences. "Mrs. Wakefield —"

Madeline turned her head towards the voice, her swollen eyes filled with anger and pain. Her face twisted into a scowl as she recognized Sandra. The private investigator she'd hired had provided a picture that left no doubt who the woman standing there was.

"YOU!" she screamed, pointing at Sandra, her voice trembling with emotion. "How dare you come here?" she shrieked, her voice thick with hatred. The venom in Madeline's voice shocked Sandra. She had no idea what she had done to deserve such hostility.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What have I done?" Sandra's voice was barely above a whisper.

Madeline curled her lip in disgust as she glared at Sandra. "You know exactly what you've done. You're the one Noah chose to inherit the Willow Creek mansion, right? First my husband, then my home."

Sandra's eyes widened, and she stammered, "I — I didn't know."

Sandra reached out to touch the distraught woman's arm but was met with fury. Madeline snarled, "Don't touch me! Wasn't stealing my husband enough? Now you want to humiliate me in front of our friends."

Sobbing hysterically, Madeline delivered the lines she'd practiced repeatedly in her mirror. "This woman was Noah's mistress!"

Gasps and murmuring flowed throughout the crowd, adding fuel to the fire. Madeline smiled inwardly, but her voice said something different.

"She has inherited everything, leaving me penniless." Madeline turned toward the casket, draping herself over it, moaning in despair, "Why Noah? Why?" before collapsing to the ground. Her friends rushed to lift her up.

Sandra's confusion only deepened. "No, none of that is true. I received a letter and was asked to attend the funeral. Other than that, I don't know anything else. I'm not his mistress."

"Liar! Leave! You're not welcome here or at the mansion. It's mine! I won't let you take it."

*****

Fighting back her tears, a stunned Sandra hurried away from the gathering, desperate to put it all behind her.

"Why did I come here? Why? Who would play such a hoax on me?" Sandra continued to berate herself until she heard someone calling her name. She stopped, partially because she was out of breath and partially to see who was calling her name.

"Sandra." A distinguished-looking man followed close behind her. "Sandra, please wait."

"Please, I'm sorry I upset the widow. I had no idea." Sandra swatted a tear off of her cheek.

His voice was pleasant, and his smile warm. "I know you didn't, and I'm sorry."

"I had no right to come to a funeral and upset anyone. I don't know why I'm here."

"I do!" He extended his hand toward Sandra. "May I introduce myself?" He didn't wait for an answer but continued, "I'm James Matthews. I live in the carriage house in the mansion gardens."

His kindness shattered the shield she'd put between herself and the people staring at her. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she stammered, "She's mistaken. I've never met her husband, and I have no idea why he left the mansion to me."

James smiled, reassuring her. "I know. Perhaps we should walk."

Sandra glanced down the hill at the group hovering around Madeline Wakefield. "But the widow —shouldn't I explain."

"I assure you, she will be fine. She's one for the dramatics, possibly a characteristic from earlier days." James smiled, taking her arm in his. "Some friends of mine wish to meet you."

"Meet me?" Sandra's eyebrows furrowed. "But why?"

"I'll let them explain." James slipped his arm around hers and walked across the cemetery, pointing out historic headstones. The tension eased from Sandra as he chatted about the gardens, naming each flower or butterfly.

Soon, they entered a secluded area in the cemetery. The garden was an oasis of tranquility, with blossoming Roses of Sharon and various shades of purple lilacs filling the air with a sweet fragrance. James pointed across the garden, "There they are."

Three men were lounging on cement benches. As James and Sandra approached, they stood and waved, excited to meet Sandra Monroe, the woman who inherited the mansion.

The Judge warned his friends, "The two of you need to behave. Don't scare her away unless —Well, you know the other alternative."

"No jokes about popping someone, Benny." Ryan jabbed his elbow into his friend's side.

"Me? You're the one with all the dead bodies." Benny chuckled. "Or at least ones anyone talks about."

The Judge glared at them. "Enough!"

Each assessed the woman who held their futures in her hands as they waited to be introduced.

Author Notes Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Sandra Monroe - small time investigative reporter


Chapter 2
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 2

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 1

"Meet me?" Sandra's eyebrows furrowed. "But why?"

"I'll let them explain." James slipped his arm around hers and walked across the cemetery, pointing out historic headstones. The tension eased from Sandra as he chatted about the gardens, naming each flower or butterfly.

Soon, they entered a secluded area in the cemetery. The garden was an oasis of tranquility, with blossoming Roses of Sharon and various shades of purple lilacs filling the air with a sweet fragrance. James pointed across the garden, "There they are."

Three men were lounging on cement benches. As James and Sandra approached, they stood and waved, excited to meet Sandra Monroe, the woman who inherited the mansion.

The Judge warned his friends, "The two of you need to behave. Don't scare her away unless —. Well, you know the other alternative."

"No jokes about popping someone, Benny." Ryan jabbed his elbow into his friend's side.

"Me? You're the one with all the dead bodies." Benny chuckled. "Or at least ones anyone talks about."

The Judge glared at them. "Enough!"

Each assessed the woman who held their futures in her hands as they waited to be introduced.
 
*****
 
CHAPTER 2

"Hey guys, look at the dame hanging on James's arm. No offense, ma'am, but I was really hoping for donuts." Ryan chuckled. "Honestly, we were waiting impatiently for you, but the donuts would have been a bonus."

"Don't listen to him; his fat rolls have more flab than a basset hound." Benny chortled, "My apologies to all offended basset hounds."

"Excuse the two idiots. They both think they're runners-up in a comedy contest. Judge William Parker at your service, ma'am." He extended his hand and then turned to his fellow cohorts. "May I introduce you to Detective Ryan Hamilton with his donut obsession, Benny Gonzales, the unemployed — hmmm —it might be best to save his profession for another day, and of course, you have already met James, the voice of reason among this motley crew."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you forgot to mention my impeccable detective skills. I may love donuts, but I could still crack a case like nobody's business."

Benny grinned at Judge Parker. "And I may be jobless, but hey, laughter is the best medicine, right? Plus, I hear unemployment is great for finding hidden talents." Benny tipped his fedora and winked at Sandra. "I'm just having a little fun while I restructure my career."

The judge laughed. "Yeah, getting your ass out of trouble just like the rest of us."

Sandra tried hiding her amusement in the odd trio while mentally sorting out the situation.

I wonder how they knew Noah. I don't remember seeing them at the gravesite, but then Madeline made such a scene that I doubt I'd remember seeing anyone. And why have they chosen to meet me here in the cemetery? Is it a matter of convenience or something else?

She smiled and greeted the men, "It's nice to meet you, gentlemen, but I can't imagine why you'd want to meet me."

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, doll face? Va-va-voom." Benny snorted. "You're one of those babes you can meet in the daylight and still get excited."

"Benny, that's enough." Judge Parker reprimanded his sidekick before addressing Sandra. "My apologies for my friend. He tends to forget his manners and his brains."

James squeezed Sandra's arm. "They're good guys, regardless of their lack of people skills."

"Hey, I don't lack —" Benny never completed his sentence.

An ear-piercing scream burst through the rustling lilac branches, drawing everyone's attention toward the blooming hedge.

"My Lord, what was that?" Sandra's eyes widened as her look shifted from the group to the bushes. "A hurt animal?"

James laughed. "My guess is it's no animal. Give her a second, and you will see."

A short, stout woman scrambled into the clearing, pulling twigs from her hair and brushing lilac petals from her clothes. She stopped and adjusted the bonnet covering her gray hair. With a quick nod in James and Sandra's direction, she stomped across the grass toward the other three. "Wait till I get my bloody hands on you ninnies."

Ryan and Benny glanced at each other and then burst into laughter, enraging the woman as she waved her arm in the air. "I'll be beatin' you with my broom, for sure."

Her eyes narrowed, and she glared at the three as she stopped in front of them. Her finger poked against their chests, one by one. "So, you thought you'd leave me behind, did you?" With her hands on her hips and her foot tapping the ground, she continued to berate the men. "There'll be no pulling the wool over Lorrie's eyes."

Sandra couldn't help but snicker at the sight of the pleasantly plump woman, who reminded her of a grandmother scolding the children.

James chuckled. "Lorraine, please stop fussing and come meet the new owner of the mansion, Sandra Monroe."

Lorrie made a face at the men, then dusted off her clothes and curtsied. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Lorraine. The likes of these sports prefer to call me Lorrie. Whichever you prefer is fine with me." As she smiled, her eyes twinkled, and her voice filled with pride. "I have been Mr. Wakefield's housekeeper for the last twenty-odd years. He was a fine man, not like that woman."

She looked at the men and then turned back to Sandra, lowering her voice, "Mr. Wakefield, may he rest in peace, returned from out west—" Lorraine's chest puffed as she snorted, "With that hussy and her fancy ways, strutting around like she was high society."

"Lorrie!" James snapped but quickly let his eyes fill with amusement.

"Don't be raising your voice to me, James. You know I am speaking the truth. She insisted I curtsy when I entered the room, and I had to always say yes, ma'am, no, ma'am."

"Lorraine, you're giving Ms. Monroe the wrong impression. Has everyone lost their manners," James scolded.

Lorraine's feisty spirit refused to be reprimanded, and she continued, "Now, James, you and I both know she married Noah for his money, and she thought his untimely death would make her rich. I'd have loved to have seen her face when she learned that Ms. Monroe had inherited the whole shebang."

Lorraine leaned in closer and whispered, "It's a beautiful home, but it holds some dark secrets. Some say it's cursed."

"Lorraine, stop with your gossip! You'll be scaring the young woman away." He smiled at Sandra. "Despite their antics, my colleagues and I are happy you've chosen to come to Willow Creek."

"Yes, I came for the funeral, but I've not decided about the rest."

Lorrie's eyes widened. "Not decided. Oh, dear me, you must stay. I hope we didn't frighten you away."

"No, not at all. You're charming people, but I'm unsettled about an inheritance from someone I didn't know. Besides, I have a job in the city. I'm a crime reporter — a fledging one, but I know I'd be a good one if given the chance."

Lorraine danced and twirled around in a circle, pointing at the three men. "Perfect! A crime reporter, you say. Investigating things, right?"

"Yes, but my boss always tells me to leave the big stories to the guys. He frowns and reminds me that curiosity killed the cat. He tosses me a bone once in a while, but nothing big yet."

The detective moved closer. "Is a murder big enough?"

A loud gasp escaped Sandra's mouth, and she quickly turned to James. "A murder? Was it Mr. Wakefield?"

The judge shot an evil look in Ryan's direction. "As usual, our in-house detective has gotten ahead of himself."

Ryan scowled. "I haven't! Fact is, we have reason to believe Mr. Wakefield was murdered."

"You do! Are you on the investigation team, Ryan?" The trap was snapped, and Sandra could feel her heart pumping.

"Me? Umm — not exactly. But —"

"Listen, we hadn't meant to spring all this on you, but Ryan is always jumping the gun," James scowled.

Ignoring the bickering, Sandra plunged forward with her own questions. "Somebody is investigating, right? If not the local detective, then who? I'd love to sink my teeth into a story."

Lorrie sighed. "These dolts be beating around the bush all day, but I'll clear the air. The widow snuffed any investigation. She says Noah died from natural causes, but —"

"What did the coroner say? Who found the body and where? Did you demand an investigation if you thought she was wrong?" A whirlwind was swirling inside Sandra's head as she tried to soak everything in.
 
A murder?

James sighed. "We — well — I approached Madeline and suggested we should call the coroner, but she demanded I leave her to attend to her husband." He scuffed his shoe across the grass. "Madeline has friends, powerful ones, who believed her story."

Refusing to let go of a possible story, Sandra questioned everyone. "But someone — the coroner, the sheriff, a doctor, someone looked into it, right?"

"I'm afraid I'm the only one. I questioned Madeline. At first, she brushed me off, but when I continued, she began to place the blame on Theo. He's an elderly man who tends to the front lawn and the flowers. According to Madeline, Theo had a heated argument with Noah that day. She said once the sheriff discovered Theo was an ex-con, there would be no question, and he'd be arrested."

"And what did Theo say?"

Everyone exchanged looks, but no one spoke. Finally, the judge cleared his throat and said, "Theo disappeared."

"Disappeared? But where and why?" The story was building, layer by layer, but Sandra still hadn't a clue. She needed a lead. "If there's no case, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Not pointing any fingers, but how would you feel if Mrs. Wakefield accused you of murdering her husband to get your hands on the mansion?"

"Me? I didn't know the man. Why would she do that?"

James raised an eyebrow. "She's already accused you of being his mistress. Why'd she do that? Maybe her friends would back her up. They're thick as thieves. I wouldn't put it past a few of them to conjure up some stories, hoping to reap some benefits."

Sandra's voice raised a notch. "Ryan, you're a detective, and you're a judge. Can't either of you do something?"

"We're trying, but you have far more to lose than us. Don't you want to discover the actual killer of the man who left you his entire fortune? Don't you owe him that?"

"Is there an actual killer? Or is this story meant to scare the widow away? It's obvious there's no love lost between any of you and her." The group fell silent.

"I don't know what to think. I'm uncertain if I should accept the inheritance," Sandra said, her voice laced with doubt. "It may be better to refuse and let the widow have everything."

A unanimous shout of protest erupted from the group, their voices echoing in the wind. "NOOOO!"

Their reaction stunned Sandra, but she remained uncertain. "I'll take some time to think about it and let you know my decision. I need to go back home and talk to my boss. If he agrees to give me some time off, I'll come back after the weekend. But it will only be a visit."

Lorraine chimed, "In four days?"

Sandra nodded, her mind racing with the possibilities. "Yes, in four days. But I can't promise I'll stay. It's not every day someone leaves me a mansion, so I should at least see it before deciding."

Lorraine curtseyed and smiled warmly, her eyes shining with excitement. "I'll make sure everything is sparkling for you when you return, ma'am. And we'll have a pot roast with potatoes and veggies. And homemade apple pie."

"With ice cream?" Ryan asked.

Lorraine glanced at Ryan but answered, "Yes, with ice cream. Would that suit you, Ms. Monroe?"

Sandra couldn't resist Lorraine's endearing smile, and she smiled, too. "Call me Sandra, and please, don't curtsey, Lorraine."

"Thank you, ma'am; I mean Sandra. You can call me Lorrie if you wish."

"Thank you, Lorrie," Sandra said, trying to contain her desire to hug the sweet woman standing before her. "Now, I better go. It's a long drive back to the city. It's been nice meeting all of you."

Before she could leave, James asked, "You will return, right?"

Sandra nodded. "Yes, but I won't promise anything. You haven't said much about the murder. Do you think Theo is innocent?" Her mind raced with questions.

"I do. There's so much more to tell you, but it will wait," James replied solemnly.

Sandra's heart raced as Lorraine's words rolled around in her mind.

Hmm...something's going on, but what? First, the letter, then Noah's funeral, and the widow screaming at me. Can't imagine being someone's mistress, especially an old man. What am I missing? I don't know who to believe, but Lorraine's eyes were convincing. Was it all an act? And if so, What for?

Sandra knew there was more to this story. She could feel it in her bones.

"I just hope she's wrong about the mansion being haunted," she whispered, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that had settled over her.

"Don't be silly! There's no such thing as ghosts," she reassured herself, but the thought lingered.

As she turned to wave goodbye, Sandra's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone had disappeared. She scanned the cemetery, but the only sounds in the air were the rustling of leaves in the wind and two squirrels dashing across the grass.

"That's strange. Where did they go?"

Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and then she didn't.

"Gotcha."
 
Was that a voice?

Sandra's eyes widened as she looked around again. Her voice cracked. "Is someone there?"

When no one answered, she laughed. "It's a cemetery, Sandra. Dead people don't talk."

She saw the tipped-over headstone covered in moss and felt foolish. Boo!

She shook her head, muttering, "It's time to go home."

Her steps quickened as she hurried to her car, her heart still pounding. Inside the car, she stared out the window toward the garden, her head filled with unanswered questions.

As she drove through the iron gates, she mumbled, "There's no such thing as ghosts!"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow


Chapter 3
The Unwilling Heir - 3

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 2

"Don't be silly! There's no such thing as ghosts," she reassured herself, but the thought lingered.

As she turned to wave goodbye, Sandra's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone had disappeared. She scanned the cemetery, but the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and two squirrels dashing across the grass.

"That's strange. Where did they go?"

Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and then she didn't.

"Gotcha."

Was that a voice?

Sandra's eyes widened as she looked around again. Her voice cracked. "Is someone there?"

When no one answered, she laughed. "It's a cemetery, Sandra. Dead people don't talk."

She saw the tipped-over headstone covered in moss and felt foolish. Boo!

She shook her head, muttering, "It's time to go home."

Her steps quickened as she hurried to her car, her heart still pounding. Inside the car, she stared out the window toward the garden, her head filled with unanswered questions.

As she drove through the iron gates, she mumbled, "There's no such thing as ghosts!"
*****

CHAPTER 3

"Annie, were you able to find a telephone number for Judge Parker? I think his first name was William." Sandra called her assistant in the outer office.

"I tried but couldn't find a listing. Are you sure about his name?"

"I met the guy at a funeral." Sandra shrugged. "I'm usually good at remembering names, but —"

"A funeral? I can't get you to date any of the guys I know, and now you hook up with a guy at a funeral. Tell me you're kidding," Annie exclaimed.

"Hookup? Oh, heavens, no, Annie." Sandra laughed at her assistant. "You won't believe it, but I inherited a mansion, a Victorian house in Willow Creek, from a stranger."

"A stranger left you a house?" Annie was skeptical. "That's so strange. Do you think it's legit?"

"I don't know what to think. There's a mysterious story behind it," Sandra replied, her tone thoughtful.

"So, the bloodhound is on the hunt, right?" Annie chuckled.

"For a story, maybe. Not a man." Sandra sighed. "I'm not sure if I should accept it. What would I do with a house in the countryside?"

"Live in it! Have you seen it? What's it like?"

"I've not seen it. I was supposed to go back today for a tour, and I even got the okay from Les."

"Then what's the holdup?" Annie giggled. "I'd be packed and out of here. You deserve some time off."

"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. So, I've decided to talk to Judge Parker again." Sandra rummaged through a stack of papers. "Aha! This is the envelope the letter came in. There is no phone number, of course, but the office is at 1422 Marion. Why does that sound familiar?"

"Because the new Italian restaurant that we've been talking about is at 1425 Marion. It's only five blocks from here."

Smiling, Sandra turned to Annie and made her an offer she couldn't refuse. "If you cover my calls, I'll bring you back cannoli." She winked.

"Cannoli! "Annie squealed. "Go, get out of here."

And with that, Sandra stepped out into the sunshine, determined to uncover the secret of Willow Creek.

*****

Standing inside 1422 Marion, Sandra was having second thoughts.

What am I doing? Maybe this has all been a hoax. Everything is so strange. The widow! And those guys in the garden. At least James seemed normal and, of course, sweet Lorrie.

Sandra stared at the elevator as the doors slowly opened.

Do I go or not?

A bell rang, and the doors began to close. Sandra placed her hands in the opening, stopping them. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, leaning against the wall. She was still uncertain what she would say to the Judge or if he would share anything with her.

The elevator creaked and groaned as it slowly ascended to the third floor. Finally, the doors opened, and she entered a dimly lit hallway on the third floor. The hallway was long and narrow, and the walls were painted dull beige. Unlike the busy corridors in her building, it was quiet. An arrow on the wall indicated that Suite 303 was located down the hall to her left.

Sandra hurried past each office, scanning the numbers on the doors as she went. As she passed Suite 301, she again wondered what she would say to the judge and if it would convince her to take the mansion.

"Come on, Judge. Where are you?" she muttered quietly under her breath.

Passing a few unmarked doors, she finally arrived outside Suite 303. She was relieved to see William Parker — Judge written on the door. But her excitement was short-lived when she saw the 'For Rent' sign hanging near the door. A wave of disbelief washed over her.

Surprised, Sandra spoke out loud. "This can't be!"

A young woman with a janitorial cart appeared behind her as if on cue. "Were you interested in looking at the office?" she asked in a friendly tone. "I've got the keys if you want to take a look. It needs some cleaning, but it's got a nice view. The Judge always loved the city skyline, especially at night."

"The Judge. You know him?"

The young woman looked confused. "Know Judge Parker? I did."

"Great! Maybe you can tell me where he moved his offices to." Sandra held her breath, waiting for an answer. "It would save me some time."

"You want to know where Judge Parker's offices are?"

"Yes, I received a letter from him a few days ago with this address. I need to reach him."

"I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. Judge Parker is dead."

Sandra swallowed. "Dead! No, he can't be! I met him and his friends at Noah Wakefield's funeral in Willow Creek just a few days ago."

The woman smiled. "Sure sounds like the Judge. He loved to visit Mr. Wakefield. But it just couldn't have been him."

"You're sure he died?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. He was working late, and someone came in and shot him through the heart. I went in to clean his office and found him. There was blood everywhere. Sure enough, he was dead, a hole in the middle of his chest. You can bet I got out of there, fast!"

"When was that?"

"Let's see. The Judge died in the spring of last year, so I guess it's been almost a year."

"A year?" A chill ran down Sandra's spine. "Do you mind if I look around?"

"You go ahead. I prefer not to go in there if you don't mind. I'll be cleaning the offices across the hall so I can lock up after you leave."

"Thank you. I won't be long." Sandra peered through the door. Some of the office furniture was covered with sheets and a layer of dust and cobwebs. Unconsciously, she put on her imaginary crime reporter hat and entered the office.

So, Judge Parker, someone put a bullet hole through your chest, and you're dead. Why? Were they looking for something? And who's the man impersonating you?

She walked around the office, noting the scattered papers on the desk and the empty bookshelves lining the walls.

A faded photo caught her eye as she rifled through the papers on the desk. A younger version of the man she had met at Noah Wakefield's funeral stared at her. It was a picture of the Judge with his family — his wife, two daughters, and a golden retriever sitting at their feet.

You look happy. So, what's your story? Someone wanted you dead, but why?

Lost in thought, Sandra jumped in surprise when she heard a creaking sound from the bookshelves. A panel was ajar. Sandra touched it, and it opened, revealing a secret compartment.

Oh! What do we have here, Judge?

Cautiously, Sandra peered inside. At first, it looked like a stack of old journals and papers.

Sandra pulled them out and glanced at each one.

Nothing interesting here.

Disappointed in her discovery, she restacked them and started to put them back where she'd found them, but —"

What's this?

Deeper inside the compartment, she could see something else. She reached inside. Her fingers gripped a leather-bound book of some kind. She pulled out the book and blew off the dust, revealing the title. She gasped.

The Secret Life of Judge Parker. Now we're getting somewhere.

Intrigued, Sandra opened the book and began to read. The pages were filled with entries detailing the Judge's dealings with the criminal underworld, his involvement in shady business deals, and his corrupt practices within the legal system. Sandra's eyes widened as she realized the man once respected as a pillar of the community was nothing more than a criminal in a judge's robe.

Guess someone felt you were a threat because you knew too much.

As she continued to read, Sandra heard footsteps approaching from the outer office. Panicking, she quickly closed the book and stuffed it into her bag. She turned to see a man standing in the doorway.

"What do you think you're doing?" the man demanded, his voice laced with anger.

Sandra froze, her heart pounding in her throat. "Umm, the cleaning lady —she said it was okay."

"Well, it's not unless I say so."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Sandra stammered, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to compose herself.

The man stepped further into the room, the badge on his belt catching the light and gleaming brightly. She felt the intensity of his gaze as he stared at her.

"The space is for rent. I was taking a quick peek. I meant no harm."

"That's no excuse for trespassing in a restricted area," the man snapped, his tone harsh and accusatory. "You're not supposed to be in here without permission."

"The cleaning lady said it was okay," Sandra repeated.

The man's expression softened slightly, and he stepped further into the judge's office, glancing around the room. "Sorry. The Judge was a friend of mine. It still bothers me when I see someone else in here."

Sandra smiled, "I understand. I lost someone a few years ago, and I still haven't fully recovered."

"I think if they'd caught his murderer, I might feel a little better. Maybe someday." He looked around the room, abruptly adding, "Be sure someone locks up. Have a nice evening."

Sandra watched as he left the room, a nagging feeling of unease returning to her stomach. She shivered, knowing she'd stumbled upon something she shouldn't have, which could have serious repercussions if she weren't careful. Her legs were trembling, and she collapsed into the office chair.

Okay, Sandra, admit you were scared. No, not me. Well, just a little, I suppose, but that's because he surprised me. Now, the real question is, why did a man with a badge have a corrupt judge as his friend and a good friend, it seems? And what does the mansion have to do with any of it? Then, of course, the guy in Willow Creek is also impersonating him. Who is he?

Sandra spun the chair around toward the window and looked out at the city skyline, still struggling with what she'd learned today and at the funeral.

Judge William Parker is liked by many, it appears, yet the book says something totally different about you. A double life? I can't help wondering what thoughts went through your head when you sat and looked out this window. Was it crime and justice or just crime?

Sandra took a final look as she left the office. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was now entangled in a dangerous web of deceit and corruption. She knew that if she wanted to uncover the truth behind the Judge's death, she would have to be prepared to face the consequences —no matter how dire they may be.

I've got to go back to the mansion.

*****

As she stepped out into the street, a sharp gust of wind whipped at her hair and clothes, but she barely registered the chill. The sun was gone, and so was her carefree mood. She couldn't stop thinking about the Judge and the strange events of the past few days that had turned her world upside down. She hurried across the street to buy the promised cannoli for Annie while a whirlwind of thoughts swirled inside her head. She could feel her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
 
*****

With the promised purchase in hand, Sandra headed for her office building. Something, a noise, made her stop and turn back toward the Judge's building.

Were those footsteps?

She didn't see anyone, but she quickened her steps until she neared her office. She had inherited a mansion from a stranger, a man she had never met, and his wife had accused her of being his mistress. And now, on top of it all, she had discovered that she had spoken to a man who supposedly was dead. It was a mystery that demanded to be solved, and Sandra was determined to do just that.

Author Notes I am seriously considering shelving this story since it seems difficult to follow for some. Looking for suggestions and honest answers. Thank you.


Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow


Chapter 4
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 4

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 3

As she stepped out into the street, a sharp gust of wind whipped at her hair and clothes, but she barely registered the chill. The sun was gone, and so was her carefree mood. She couldn't stop thinking about the Judge and the strange events of the past few days that had turned her world upside down. She hurried across the street to buy the promised cannoli for Annie while a whirlwind of thoughts swirled inside her head. She could feel her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

With the promised purchase in hand, Sandra headed for her office building. Something, a noise, made her stop and turn back toward the Judge's building.

Were those footsteps?

She didn't see anyone, but she quickened her steps until she neared her office. She had inherited a mansion from a stranger, a man she had never met, and his wife had accused her of being his mistress. And now, on top of it all, she had discovered that she had spoken to a man who supposedly was dead. It was a mystery that demanded to be solved, and Sandra was determined to do just that.
*****

CHAPTER 4

Breathless, Sandra rushed into her office with Annie trailing behind her. "Slow down." Annie glanced at the door Sandra had rushed through seconds ago. "Sandra, what's wrong? You look a mess. What happened with the Judge?"

"Close the door, Annie. And lower your voice." Sandra collapsed into her office chair, trying to catch her breath. "I guess I didn't realize I was running."

Annie shut the door before asking, "Were you at the Judge's office all this time? Les asked if you'd left already. Something about sending one of the guys with you."

Sandra leaned across her desk, whispering, "No one's going with me, especially those guys. What did you tell him?"

"I said you might have gone home to pack. It seemed to pacify him."

"Good job!" Sandra handed the box of cannoli to her assistant.

"Oh, goodie, I was afraid you might have forgotten."

"Grab a chair. We need to talk."

Annie recognized the excitement in Sandra. She slipped into a chair and started rattling off questions. "Did you find out the inheritance was a hoax? Or did the Judge give you a story about the guy who died?" Annie giggled. "I know that gleam in your eye, Sandra. There's a story brewing inside that head of yours. What happened?"

With a smug expression plastered across her face, Sandra whispered, "The Judge was murdered."

"Murdered!" Annie shouted and then immediately lowered her voice. "You just saw him three days ago. What happened?"

Sandra's Cheshire cat smile said it all, "He was murdered in his office — a year ago."

"A year ago?" Annie's jaw dropped open. But the letter and the guy you met? An imposter?" Annie could tell there was more. "I admit that's a story, but there's something else. What is it?"

Sandra pulled the dusty book out of her bag and handed it to Annie. "The Secret Life of Judge Parker." Annie gasped. "Where did you get this, Sandra?"

"In a secret compartment in the bookcase. Open it."

Annie opened the cover and scanned a few pages. "Sandra, he's a criminal. Not just a petty thief, but an honest-to-goodness criminal."

"Which one — the one murdered or the one in Willow Creek? Or both?"

"Girlfriend, this is B-I-G!" Annie squealed. "Are you going to tell Les?"

"No! It's my story. You know he'll give it to Jarrod or Paul. He never thinks I can handle the dangerous stuff."

"Aren't you scared, though? It sounds like organized crime or at least some deep stuff. Men like that don't play nice. Admit it. Sandra, it's out of your league."

"Nobody knows I have the book except you. Let's keep it that way. If it looks too big, I'll let one of the guys in on it, but not until I give it a shot first. Agreed?"

"Agreed. So where do we begin?"

"In Willow Creek. Noah Wakefield left me the mansion for a reason. It's time to start unraveling the knots." She paused, thinking. "I'm just going to tell Les I'm taking a vacation to decide whether to keep the mansion or not."

"I'll see what I can find out about the murder. It had to make headlines, or it should have anyway. Strange that neither of us remembers hearing anything about a judge being murdered."

"This whole thing is strange, Annie. Remember to stay under the radar. I don't want Les or anyone getting wind of it, okay?"

"Okay!" Annie sunk her teeth into a cannoli and smiled. "You might owe me a few more of these by the time we are done."

"You got it! But now, I've got to go home and pack. It's a long drive to Willow Creek."

*****

The trip had given Sandra time to sort through her thoughts, but she was relieved when she entered the town of Willow Creek. She drove by the small shops, noting Petunia's Coffee Shop and the Grab It and Go Diner. On the edge of town, she recognized the iron gates marking the entrance to the cemetery. She turned in and stopped the car just inside the entrance. It was afternoon, but the cemetery no longer looked inviting.

An icy finger strummed her spine, and she shivered. Shaking her head, she changed her mind, put the car in reverse, and continued her journey toward the mansion.

Not today. Noah Wakefield. You've opened a can of worms. Was that your intention? But why me?

She was amazed to see Lorrie standing on the front porch, waving at her, as she entered the driveway.

How did she know I was coming?

As Sandra got out of her car, Lorrie scurried down the steps to greet her. She engulfed her in a warm embrace with genuine excitement. "You came! James and I feared you might not return after discovering about the Judge and all."

Sandra stepped back and stared at the housekeeper. "You know — about the Judge?" She felt the same foreboding feeling in her stomach again. "How did — was someone following me?"

Lorrie's hand flew to her mouth. "There, I've done it again. Rattling on." She grabbed Sandra's arm, squeezed it, and tugged her toward the house. "Never mind about an old lady and her babble. I'm preparing a dinner fit for a king, and of course, you'll want to see your new home."
 
The housekeeper sensed Sandra's hesitance and offered a warm, grandmotherly smile. "Come inside. We have a lot to talk about." Lorrie led her through the front door and into a cozy living room. "James will be joining us for a cup of tea. Make yourself at home, and I'll let him know you've arrived." She hurried from the room, stopping to adjust a crooked lampshade, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Sandra looked around the living room, admiring the plush furniture and warm decor. Though her thoughts of the Judge haunted her, Lorrie's cheerful demeanor, however strange at times, eased her anxiety.

As she sat on the couch, James entered the room with a friendly smile. "Sandra, it's so good to see you again. Lorrie told me you were coming for dinner." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Lorrie has tea and goodies prepared in the dining room. Come before it gets cold. She's a dear but runs a tight kitchen."

"James, how did Lorrie know when I was arriving or if I was even going to visit?"

He shrugged. "Lorrie has her ways, I guess. Some kind of intuition, she says."

"But she knows about the Judge —"

His smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. "The Judge?" He glanced toward the kitchen and scowled. "I'll need to talk with the woman. She forgets her place at times." He paused. "What exactly did she say about him?"

"Don't be mad at her. She was excited to see me and said something about me not returning because I'd found out about the Judge."

"Hmmm. Interesting. And what did you find out about the Judge?"

Sandra felt her throat tighten as she gazed at James.

Do I tell him or wait to see what he says? No, I'm supposed to be a reporter, right? So, I'm not backing away from this. Besides, something tells me he probably already knows.

Sandra squared her shoulders and began, "I found the office address on the envelope and visited him since I was still debating about the inheritance. When I got to his office, or what was his office, a cleaning lady told me the judge had died — a year ago. Shot through the heart." Sandra ran her fingers across the fireplace mantle, steadying herself. "Who is the man you introduced me to if someone murdered Judge Parker?"

James looked uneasy but was reluctant to offer an answer. "In time, my dear. I promise you'll understand — in time."

"What are you hiding from me?" Sandra pressed. "Did Noah Wakefield know about the imposter? Are you in trouble, and those men are holding you hostage?"

James replied, "I don't think Noah knew anything about Judge Parker. He was a simple man who left everything unknown to others."

Sandra stared at James. "Did you know about the imposter? And what about the book?"

"Oh, dear me —" Lorrie rubbed her hands on her apron, looking frightened. "James, she found the book!"

"It's not your concern, Lorrie" James flashed her a dark look and then instantly changed his demeanor. "Is the tea ready? Our guest had a long trip and probably would like some refreshments."

Lorrie's expression betrayed her worry as she glanced at James, who seemed equally troubled, and then at Sandra. "James, we can't sweep this under the rug. She's found —"

James interrupted her with a heavy sigh. "I'm aware of the problem, Lorrie." He frowned, "Tea might settle everyone's nerves so we can discuss — things."

"Things?" Lorrie asked incredulously, her voice tinged with frustration. She shook her finger at James. "Ain't saying I told you so, but mind my word, this is going to be a mess if you're depending on those three." She spun around, calling James and Sandra. "Tea is waiting in the dining room."

James tried to hide his frustration, but he was obviously failing. Finally, he took Sandra's arm and weakly smiled. "Will you join me for tea?"

Sandra hesitated but, hoping for answers, responded. "Depends."

"On what?" James asked, his weary tone betraying his anxiety.

"Something is happening in this house, and I need - no, I deserve - to know what it is. How do you and Lorrie know about this book?" Sandra demanded, her voice betraying her suspicion.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you about the book right now, but I promise you'll learn the truth soon."

"Are the men you introduced me to at the cemetery involved?" Sandra probed further.

"Indirectly, I suppose," James replied. "Let's go to the dining room before Lorrie starts lecturing us again." Sandra followed James to the dining room, her curiosity piqued and her guard up. She could sense that something ominous was brewing, and she braced herself for what was to come.
 
You can't stop me from getting answers that easy, James! I smell a story, and it's a good one.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow


Chapter 5
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 5

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 4
"Something is happening in this house, and I need - no, I deserve - to know what it is. How do you and Lorrie know about this book?" Sandra demanded, her voice betraying her suspicion.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you about the book right now, but I promise you'll learn the truth soon."

"Are the men you introduced me to at the cemetery involved?" Sandra probed further.

"Indirectly, I suppose," James replied. "Let's go to the dining room before Lorrie starts lecturing us again." Sandra followed James to the dining room, her curiosity piqued and her guard up. She could sense that something ominous was brewing, and she braced herself for what was to come.

You can't stop me from getting answers that easy, James! I smell a story, and it's a good one.
 
*****

CHAPTER 5

Sandra marveled at the luxurious spread Lorrie had prepared for their tea — gleaming silver trays filled with dainty cucumber sandwiches, warm scones slathered with raspberry jam, and bite-sized cakes.

"Lorrie, this is not just a simple cup of tea. It's a grand feast," Sandra exclaimed.

Lorrie smiled with pride. "My mom taught me to treat guests with something special. I wanted to welcome you in style, but don't be expecting such extravagance every day."

"Oh, I wouldn't." Sandra looked at both of them with a hint of apprehension. "I'm not sure if I'll be staying yet. It depends on what either of you has to say."

Lorrie glanced at James, wiped her hands on her apron, and nodded at Sandra. "I'd like to stay, deary, but I've got a pot on the stove. I'll leave the talking to James."

"As if you haven't already said enough," James muttered, clearly annoyed. Lorrie snorted and left the room in a huff, leaving Sandra and James alone.

James stared at the teacup, not knowing where to start and what he should share with Sandra. Sensing his hesitance, she decided to stir the pot and jump right in. "You said you couldn't talk about the book, but you know about it, right?"

James nodded. "Noah asked that I come to live in the carriage house. We'd met long ago, and he knew I dabbled in writing."

"You're a writer? I'd have never guessed. Any writer I've met always has a lot to say, and you tend to limit your words."

"I prefer to put my thoughts on paper. That way, if I speak out of turn, I can make a correction before anyone reads it, unlike Lorrie, whose chattering has gotten us to this point."

"Don't be so hard on her." Sandra sipped her tea and chose a scone from the tray. As she nibbled at the edges, she decided what to say. "You must know I've read the book, not every detail, but enough. I also learned about Judge Parker's untimely death. Didn't you think I'd be suspicious of all of you, especially another man claiming to be the deceased?"

"To be honest, we never considered you'd go to his office. I guess that was a major flaw on my part."

"So, you didn't know about the book or didn't expect me to find it, which is it?"

"I'd been told about the book but had no idea of its whereabouts. Have you shared its contents with anyone else, by any chance?"

"If you are referring to my boss, absolutely not. Annie, my assistant, knows, of course. Why does it matter?"

"You read it, so I would assume that some dangerous people might not look favorably on the book or on you. Can you see how troublesome this can be?" James rested his forehead against his hands. Forgive me; I should never have brought you into this."

She could see James's discomfort and expected badgering him wouldn't get her what she wanted to know. So, she decided on a different approach. "Okay, we table the conversation about the book and the Judge for now."

James raised his head and looked across the table at her. "I promise you'll learn everything I know, but I can't tell you now. It would have been safer for you if you hadn't discovered it."

"Can you enlighten me as to why Noah left the mansion to me? Why not his wife?"

James raised his left eyebrow, followed by a slight frown. "So much for tabling the questions," he said.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to understand what's going on. You brought me here for a reason, but now you don't want to tell me why. Am I to stumble about the property until I trip and find something." Sandra's eyes lit up, and suddenly, she seemed far away. She mused, "Maybe hidden bodies or some great treasure? Or is the mansion haunted? Now that would be a story!"

James bolted from his chair as if he'd been sitting on a whoopie cushion. He spun away from the table and then back, grasping to regain his composure. "Dead bodies! Treasure! Ghosts! Ridiculous!" James walked away, muttering. "Now, which one of us is the writer?"

"You must admit if the book has anything to do with this house, the crime bosses could have buried anything here — well, couldn't they have?"

"I assure you I know of no crim—" James rethought his words. "You'll not find any Bugsy Malone, Pretty Boy Floyd, or the likes around here."

He huffed and walked around the room, examining small trinkets, arranging a row of books, and stopping to gaze through the window. He was calmer when he spoke again, "You haven't seen the property yet, but it's beautiful. I fell in love with the rose garden the moment I saw it. Noah knew I loved this place. He also knew he was ill, and his days were numbered." He stood silent for several minutes and then returned to the table. "Noah transferred the deed into my name almost a year ago."

"Your name! Now I am baffled." Sandra sipped some tea, letting the hot brew clear her throat. "Then — why was it willed to me?"

"The only thing Noah was concerned about was my writing and Madeline not getting the property. He knew he was dying, another secret he kept from his wife. Or thought he did!"

"If the house were in your name, Madeline wouldn't have a claim to it. And why was your writing so important to him?"

"Noah believed the mansion had a secret hidden within its walls, a treasure of sorts." A sigh escaped his lips. It's not dead bodies either, though there is a small cemetery on the property, up on the hill. As you were asking, I've been trying to uncover information, but I'm not an investigator. Unfortunately, Madeline found some papers Noah was reading and learned about the possible treasure. She'd rip every wall down, if she could, searching."

"So, this is about a treasure hunt?"

"It was — until Noah was murdered." He watched Sandra's reaction. It was precisely what he expected.

She gasped. "Murdered? Was there an investigation? Who did it?" Sandra was stunned, uncovering two murders in one day and a treasure. "Don't stop now!"

"Noah and I usually share our morning coffee in the garden. It was drizzling that day, and he didn't come to the carriage house. I heard someone screaming as I approached the house. I hurried in and found Lorrie kneeling next to Noah's body."

"You said he was ill. What made you think it was murder?"

"I didn't right then. Madeline heard Lorrie's screams and came rushing downstairs. Lorrie was about to call for an ambulance, but Madeline grabbed the phone out of her hand and ordered her to return to the kitchen."

"Of course, Lorrie was fuming, but she does know her place with Madeline. She left. On the other hand, I was stunned when she also asked me to leave. She said she would make the calls and handle everything herself since she was his wife."

"Strange, but as his wife, I imagine she had every right. Maybe she was overwhelmed with grief and didn't want to fall apart in front of either of you."

"I'll give you that since you don't know Madeline."

"I did see her at the funeral. She appeared to be a very distraught widow."

"You and everyone attending the funeral saw what Madeline wanted them to see."

"That still doesn't explain why you think Noah was murdered."

"The sheriff arrived about fifteen minutes after I left the house. He stayed for quite some time. An unmarked vehicle arrived about an hour later and took Noah's body away."

"Strange, but it still doesn't say murder."

"There's only one funeral home in Willow Creek, and when I called, I was told his body had not been brought there."

"What? Then where was he taken?" Sandra's head was spinning with questions.

"I've already said too much. I'm sorry. I've got some things to take care of. Maybe we could talk later." James stood and left the room without another word. Sandra watched him leave while her thoughts went wild.

*****

"Lorrie, I need some air. I think I'll drive into town. Don't hold dinner for me. Thanks for the wonderful tea and treats, though."

The housekeeper appeared in the kitchen doorway. "It'll be getting dark soon. You aren't familiar with the roads. Wouldn't a walk through the gardens suffice?"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry. I live in the big city and always go out at night."

Sandra waved, grabbed her sweater from her suitcase, and hurried outside to her car.

"Big city or not, dearie, it's not Willow Creek." She wiped her hands on her apron and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. "Please watch over her, my Lord."

*****

The drive into town wasn't long and Sandra soon found herself sitting inside Petunia's Coffee Shop. She'd chosen a window view. Maybe people-watching would help her calm her nerves. She had so many questions.

Did Noah die because he was ill, or was he murdered like James suspects? Maybe the detective could check the records and see what the death certificate said. What would it hurt if I called and asked? What was his name? Think, Sandra! Ryan — Ham — Ryan Hamilton.

The waitress approached with the coffee pot. "Got a fresh pot. Would you like a cup? We've got homemade blueberry or peach pie."

Sandra smiled. "Thank you. Just coffee and some sugar, please."

The girl cocked her head to the side and looked at Sandra, smiling. "I remember you. Weren't you at Noah's funeral?"

A pink glow spread across Sandra's cheeks. "I'm afraid I caused a scene."

"No, you didn't. That was all on Madeline's shoulders. She's a witch. Ms. Wakefield and her girlfriends meet here every Wednesday morning for coffee. She never has a nice thing to say about Noah or anyone else, for that matter. Never could figure out why a woman as young as her would marry an older man unless she was after his money. Looks like she didn't have to wait long."

"But she seemed so distraught. And the things she said —"

"Don't you give it another thought. None of the decent folks in this town believed a word she said."

"Thanks. That makes me feel a little better." Sandra thought for a moment and then asked, "Do you happen to have the police department's number?"

"You're not in trouble, are you?" The young waitress indeed seemed concerned. "Did Madeline Wakefield threaten you or something?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just wanted to ask Detective Hamilton a few questions. I met him after the funeral and —"

"After Noah's funeral? Are you sure it was Ryan Hamilton?"

"Well, I could be wrong, but I thought he introduced himself as Detective Hamilton."

"Hon, Madeline must have really shaken you up. Detective Hamilton was shot and killed during a traffic stop last year."

Sandra's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, you're right. Silly me!"

"I could get the sheriff if it's important."

"Oh, no! I probably got the name wrong. He said something I was curious about, nothing important."

"Enjoy your coffee, and don't worry about rushing out of here. It's really slow today. Can I get you anything else, a slice of pie or some warm cookies?" Sandra declined the offer, and the young girl moved away, leaving Sandra stunned once again.

What have I gotten myself involved in? A murdered judge and now a detective, not to mention the possibility that Noah Wakefield was murdered too. Maybe I am over my head! But before I leave this town, I'm going to meet those three men again and get some answers. Mark my words!

She took a sip of coffee and gazed out the window. Her mind was preoccupied with all the strange events since she received the letter. While she thought, she was drawn to people-watching.

Sandra jumped at the sound of a voice beside her. The young waitress stood near Sandra's table as she spoke, "There's our grieving widow now." She chuckled and added, "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." She laughed again and walked away.

Sandra turned her head so she could see Madeline getting out of the car. Without her black veil, she looked different today, much younger and sexier. Sandra's attention shifted to the passenger getting out of the passenger seat. He walked around to the driver's side, laughing and saying something to Madeline. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss. It wasn't a friendly peck on the cheek; instead, they locked lips in a passionate show of affection.

Sandra choked on her coffee and spewed it all over the table, shocked by what she saw. She could see he was in uniform.

Very interesting! Now, that wasn't a friendly kiss and hug by my standards. And your husband just died. Hmm! Was he the same officer who came to the mansion the day Noah died? Maybe I should have listened a little better to what James said about that day. Was the officer there to console the widow or to cover up a murder?

Sandra pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket and tossed it on the table.
 
What other secrets is this Willow Creek hiding?


 
 
 
 

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow


Chapter 6
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 6

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 5
Sandra jumped at the sound of a voice beside her. The young waitress stood near Sandra's table as she spoke, "There's our grieving widow now." She chuckled and added, "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." She laughed again and walked away.

Sandra turned her head to see Madeline getting out of the car. Without her black veil, she looked different today, much younger and sexier. Sandra's attention shifted to the passenger getting out of the passenger seat. He walked around to the driver's side, laughing and saying something to Madeline. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss. It wasn't a friendly peck on the cheek; instead, they locked lips in a passionate show of affection.

Sandra choked on her coffee and spewed it all over the table, shocked by what she saw. She could see he was in uniform.

Very interesting! Now, that wasn't a friendly kiss and hug by my standards. And your husband just died. Hmm! Was he the same officer who came to the mansion the day Noah died? Maybe I should have listened better to what James said about that day. Was the officer there to console the widow or to cover up a murder?

Sandra pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket and tossed it on the table.

What other secrets is Willow Creek hiding?
 
*****
CHAPTER 6

As Sandra leisurely strolled along the wooden boardwalk, she couldn't help but admire the charming store windows that showcased a variety of delightful handmade crafts, freshly baked goodies, and trendy fashion wear. Each store had unique displays of treasures that piqued Sandra's curiosity and filled her with wonder. Despite the town's relatively small size, the stores offered a vast selection of intriguing items that left her feeling pleasantly surprised, but it didn't stop the thoughts nagging her.

Charm can only go so far, Sandra. Don't forget that Willow Creek has secrets lurking everywhere, including at the mansion.

Thoughts of the mansion reminded her that Lorrie would be worried if she didn't return soon, so she quickly retraced her steps back to her car.

Opening the door to her car, she noticed something strange - a small piece of paper was tucked under her windshield wiper. She couldn't imagine who could have left it there. The only people she knew in town were James and Lorrie. The waitress at the diner, who had been so kind to her earlier, came to mind, but Sandra couldn't think of anything else the waitress might want to tell her. She stepped around the car door and moved closer so she could reach the paper.

As she unfolded it, her heart began to race. The message on the paper read —

Go home! Unless you want to make the cemetery your permanent address.

Sandra gasped and looked around, but there was no one in sight.

It's a threat! Who would do this? And why?

Now, she knew something sinister was happening in the town, and somehow, she was part of it.

I need answers, and I'm going to get them one way or another.

As she drove towards the mansion, darkness had already enveloped the countryside, and time had slipped away. The message she received earlier had left her with a lingering sense of unease. The road was dark except for the pale moonlight, filtering through the tall maple tree branches and casting eerie shadows across the winding road, playing with her imagination. Yet, she was determined not to be afraid.

As Sandra rounded the curve, the cemetery was on the left side. The mansion was further down the road. The iron gates towered above the hedge line. She slowed the car to a crawl, staring at the enormous gates and beyond. She should have driven past, but her decision was made.

As she drove through the gates, the gravestones rose around her like silent sentinels in the night. The crunch of gravel beneath her tires echoed through the stillness, and a shiver ran down her spine as she peered through the windshield, straining to see anything beyond the inky blackness of the sky.

Then she saw it — flickering lights or torches in the distance. They seemed to be moving. Curious, she stopped the car and got out to take a better look, but they were gone. The night was chilly, and the silence was broken only by the sounds of crickets.

Am I imagining things now? I know something was there.

Rubbing her eyes, she strained, hoping to see the lights again. To her surprise, they were there again. She counted the blobs — one, two, three, four, five. Her body tensed as she watched, wondering what or who they were.

A male voice broke the silence, "You shouldn't be here."

Sandra's heart skipped a beat, and she trembled violently as a cold chill ran down her spine. His hand touched her shoulder, and she let out a piercing scream that echoed across the cemetery. Her eyes widened with terror as she spun around to face the speaker.

Her voice cracked. "Judge — Parker?"

He took hold of her arm and led her towards the car. "I didn't mean to scare you, but being in the cemetery at night is unsafe."

Sandra was confused as her eyes darted around the area. "Where did you come from?" She pointed across the grassy hill. "There were lights. Did you see the lights?"

The Judge questioned her, "Lights? No, I don't think so. Could it have been my flashlight?"

Sandra shook her head and insisted, "There were five lights, possibly torches, on the top of that hill."

"I don't see anything, dear. It's getting late, and you've had quite the day. If you don't mind, you can give me a ride to the mansion, and we can talk. I know a shortcut through the cemetery. I'll show you."

As Sandra walked towards her car, she kept glancing at the gravestones and the hill, searching for any signs of movement.

I know I saw lights! And how did the Judge suddenly appear out of nowhere? Who is he really? Why was he here, and what wasn't he telling me?

As she slipped behind the wheel, she glanced up the hill again and then at the man beside her. He was holding the note she'd found earlier and frowning.

"I'm sorry, but it was lying on the seat when I got in. Where did it come from?"

Sandra pursed her lips and sighed. "Someone put it on my windshield while I was in town. Probably some kid is playing a joke on the new person in town."

"A joke? It doesn't seem funny to me." The Judge studied the message. "Did it scare you?"

"Scare me?" Sandra rolled her eyes and forced a smile. "Why would it scare me?" She hoped he couldn't see the goosebumps covering her arms. "Like I said, it probably was a silly joke."

But I'm not laughing! And neither are you, it seems.

The Judge gave Sandra directions, "Follow this road around the curve and then take the fork to the right. The mansion's only five minutes from there. I walk this way every night."

While Sandra watched the road, her passenger seemed content to look out the window and remained silent for the remainder of the trip.

So much for talking. I'm not crazy. I saw those lights, and I think you did, too.

*****

The grand Victorian mansion loomed above the trees as Sandra's car pulled into the driveway, casting an impressive shadow over the grounds.

"You can drop me here if you don't mind. I will walk around to the carriage house. James is expecting me." He opened the car door. "Thanks for the ride, but I recommend staying out of the cemetery at night. You never know what might be lurking in the darkness." He closed the door, waved, and disappeared down the path as Sandra drove closer to the house.

Lorrie turned on the outdoor lights, illuminating the pathway to the porch. The bubbly housekeeper greeted Sandra at the door with a warm smile. The delightful aroma of pot roast filled the air.

"I was beginning to worry. You were gone for a long time." They both entered the home, and Lorrie closed the door. "You've missed dinner, but I'd be happy to warm you a plate," Lorrie offered, noticing Sandra's weariness.

"I didn't mean to worry you, Lorrie. I just had a lot on my mind." Sandra looked around for her suitcase. "I just think I need some rest, but thank you."

Lorrie continued to fuss, "If you change your mind, there's always leftovers in the fridge." She smiled, "Now go ahead and get some rest. I had James carry your suitcase upstairs before returning to the carriage house. I've prepared you a hot bath and turned down your bed."

"Oh, I didn't mean to be a bother."

"No bother. You go ahead and relax now. A good night's sleep will make everything look chipper in the morning. You wait and see."

Sandra doubted that was possible, but as she climbed the stairs, she had to admire the mansion's interior. The intricate details of the chandelier and the antique decorations were a testament to the mansion's rich history. She couldn't wait to bathe and crawl into bed, but she wondered if sleep would come.

Lorrie's voice echoed up the stairwell as Sandra reached the top landing. "Goodnight."

*****

Sandra stirred from her sleep and fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand. She rolled over in the large four-poster bed and swung her legs over the edge. Her stomach rumbled and growled, reminding her that the scone with jam she had earlier could hardly pass for a meal. Her mouth was already watering as she thought of the pot roast waiting in the refrigerator.

The chilly night air had made the room's temperature drop. She slipped on her fluffy housecoat and warm slippers and tiptoed to the door, unsure of where Lorrie's bedroom was in the large house. She listened and then quietly opened the door.

As she stepped into the dimly lit hallway, she was struck by the beauty of the tiny sconces that illuminated the walls with a soft and warm glow. The plush carpet beneath her feet made her feel like she was walking on a cloud, muffling the sound of her steps. She hesitated momentarily as she approached the stairs, unsure whether to go down.

Am I crazy, or do I hear voices? It's strange that Lorrie didn't mention any other guests. Could it be the Judge meeting with James? But it's so late.

She leaned over the banister, peering into the darkness. She couldn't see their faces, but she could hear their heated argument.

"This is getting out of hand! It was supposed to be simple."

"We couldn't have known she'd go to your office and discover the book."

"Well, she says she has it." James lowered his voice. "How does that affect you, Bill?"

"It's her I am worried about, not me. If they learn the book has been discovered, things could get ugly. She won't be safe. Someone has already threatened her."

Sandra shivered as she listened.

Who are these men? They're talking about me and the book. One of them must be James. Are the others the men from the cemetery? What does the book have to do with the mansion?

Ryan's voice was frustrated as he spoke, "We didn't bring her here for the book. And tonight, the Judge says she saw the lights in the cemetery. You know she isn't going to forget it. I bet she starts questioning you, James, as soon as she sits down for breakfast."

"Seeing the lights is a problem. How do we explain that away?" James shook his head and paced the room.

"First, the book, then the lights. And don't forget the note. How long before she discovers who we are?"

Benny's voice was laced with anger. "That's not finding Noah's killer. The book has nothing to do with his death, does it?"

James intervened, "We need to calm down. Screaming at each other won't solve a thing. We brought her here, but not to put her life in danger. If that's the case, we need to send her packing."
 
"James, we both know if she smells a story, she's not going anywhere."

*****

"Are you alright, deary?"

Intent on the conversation below, Sandra didn't hear nor expect Lorrie to approach her from behind. She bumped her head against the railing. "Ouch! She rubbed her head as she bolted to her feet,screamed and then stammered, "Lorrie, I thought —"

"Child, you'll catch a chill sitting in this drafty hallway." The housekeeper swept a wisp of gray hair from her face. "You should be in bed."

Knowing she was caught red-handed eavesdropping, she shrugged and said, "I heard voices arguing."

"Arguing? No, child, just some men having a meeting of the minds. Pay no, never mind to them. Come along. I brought you something to eat."

"But they were talking about me and —"

Lorrie slipped her arm around Sandra's waist and steered her back to the bedroom. "Stop your fretting. Here I thought you were tucked away, fast sleep. Now, I find you're roaming the cold hallway. Tsk, tsk, that will never do."

Once inside, she tossed back the comforter and waved for Sandra to climb in.

Her guest continued to clamor about what she'd overheard, "Lorrie, those men —"

"If you catch the death of cold, you'll not find any of your answers, so get in bed, and I'll give you a serving tray before the plate gets cold again. I lit a fire so the room will be toasty in a minute or two." She patted Sandra's legs under the comforter. "Let things be for the night."

Drained and confused, Sandra snuggled under the covers, thinking maybe Lorrie was right.

As the housekeeper prepared to leave, she stopped at the doorway and winked. "There's a stairway at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen. Just in case, you might want more to eat. It's shorter, so I use it a lot."

She opened the door, adding, "Now, I'm sure the men are wondering what the screaming was about, so I have that to attend to." She shook her head, mumbling, "My work is never done, it seems."

With a final glance at Sandra, she added, "Now, deary, I see you stewing over there. Just don't go jumping on the train before it even pulls into the station. You get something warm in your stomach and a good night's rest, and I am sure the men will be sitting down with you in the morning."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow


Chapter 7
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 7

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 6

"If you catch the death of cold, you'll not find any of your answers, so get in bed, and I'll give you a serving tray before the plate gets cold again. I lit a fire so the room will be toasty in a minute or two." She patted Sandra's legs under the comforter. "Let things be for the night."

Drained and confused, Sandra snuggled under the covers, thinking maybe Lorrie was right.

As the housekeeper prepared to leave, she stopped at the doorway and winked. "There's a stairway at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen. Just in case, you might want more to eat. It's shorter, so I use it a lot."

She opened the door, adding, "Now, I'm sure the men are wondering what the screaming was about, so I have that to attend to." She shook her head, mumbling, "My work is never done, it seems."

With a final glance at Sandra, she added, "Now, deary, I see you stewing over there. Just don't go jumping on the train before it even pulls into the station. You get something warm in your stomach and a good night's rest, and I am sure the men will be sitting down with you in the morning."

*****

CHAPTER 7

Lorrie entered the dining room, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies that filled the room with a warm, inviting aroma. Bite-size sandwiches, neatly arranged and garnished with colorful vegetables, shared the tray.

"Well, I hope your meeting of the minds has figured something out," she smirked. "If not, you'll need food to get your brains fired up."

James stopped his restless pacing and fixed his gaze on Lorrie. "Woman, what are you ranting about? Can't you see we are busy?"

Lorrie's smirk widened. "James, are you telling me you didn't hear her scream?" She looked at each of the men in the room. "You can thank me for startling her. Otherwise, she'd have been sitting on the steps all night listening to the likes of you fretting. You wouldn't have had to worry about telling her."

Ryan sprang out of his chair and approached Lorrie. "She was listening?" He frowned and turned to stare at James and the Judge. "I told you she wouldn't stop until she pieced it together. You didn't give her enough credit when you picked her."

"It's about time one of you said something intelligent. She might be new to the investigation business, but she's smart — maybe too smart, which can get her in trouble, especially if she does it alone."

Benny yawned and stretched his legs. "What's all the yelling about? I was trying to take a nap."

"Forget about a nap and start helping us figure this out."

"Well, if you ask me, I oughta find my .38 and pop a few people. Who's going to miss them?" Benny laughed. "Oh, that's right. I'm retired, so to speak."

Lorrie scowled and moved closer to Benny. "You think you're funny! In case you forget, this is your last chance. If you blow it, you'll be sitting with the devil."

"I know! I know!" He shrugged. "Old habits are hard to break." Benny offered her a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry."

"Your .38 is at the bottom of the river, exactly where they found your body. You were swimming with the fishes, if you remember." The Judge frowned. "Benny, you need to take this seriously, or Lorrie's right — you'll be burning in hell."

"Can we get back to the question at hand?" Ryan interjected into the Judge and Benny's conversation. "I think we lay it on the table and let her decide whether she wants in. If she does, one of us must always be by her side. Agreed?"

James rejoined the group. "Do we tell her everything?"

"I say yes." The Judge asked for a show of hands. "That includes you, too, Lorrie."

She raised her hand and said, "If you don't tell her up front, she'll be a hellion when she finds out. It's better to know where we stand."

"Well, I guess we can all get some rest now."

As they started to say their goodnights, the front doorbell rang.

"Goodness me, who in blazes would be ringing the bell at this time of night?" Lorrie hurried to the front door, with James following closely behind. As she opened the door, she exclaimed, "Bloody! If it isn't the devil herself."

"You can't speak to me like that!" Madeline pushed past Lorrie as she entered the house. "James, since you're in charge, please keep the help in line." Madeline shot a haughty expression in Lorrie's direction.

Lorrie quickly piped, "Did you forget we have a new lady of the house?"

"If you are referring to that impertinent woman who had the nerve to attend my husband's funeral, you are wrong," she sneered, her voice laced with venom. "She'll be unable to give my home the care it needs. She'll be gone in a few weeks, mark my word."

"And when did you ever lift a finger to care for this house?" Lorrie smirked.

"Ladies, please. Save the hen-fight for another day. It's late, and I'd like to retire."

"Feel free, James. I know where to find my room."

Lorrie sputtered, "Your room? You forfeited any rights to that room when Mr. Wakefield caught you and the sheriff rolling around in the bed upstairs."

"It would benefit you to keep to your kitchen instead of listening outside private quarters. It's time you learned your place," Madeline snapped.

"Why you —" Lorrie's face was red with rage.

James stepped between them. "Lorrie, I believe you were going to check on our guest. And Madeline, what brings you knocking at the mansion's door near midnight?"

"I have a flat tire on the Caddy. Noah was too cheap to replace them, and they're nearly bald," she whined.

"I doubt that! Regardless, you are welcome to use the phone to call road service."

"I tried. No one can come until the morning, so I'll need to stay in my old room. You wouldn't refuse a poor grieving widow a place to lay her weary head, now would you, James?"

"You can save the dramatics, Madeline. You aren't a grieving widow by any standards. As for the room, you can stay till the flat is fixed.

"Oh, James, you are such a dear." Madeline blew him a kiss and quickly ascended the stairs. "Oh, Lorrie, don't worry about my bath."

Rage bubbled inside Lorrie. She looked at James, then stormed into the kitchen, afraid she might throw something at the woman.

*****

"Madeline will be joining us for breakfast." James stood in the kitchen doorway, afraid Lorrie might throw something at him.

"I can't believe you let her stay. We can't have the talk with Sandra as planned, though it would be amusing to see what Ryan and Benny might do with her breakfast. Floating orange juice or flipping flapjacks!" Lorrie's belly rumbled with laughter. "Or I could slip some rat poisoning in her food."

"Absolutely not!"

"I was just kidding, of course." But the smile on her face said otherwise.

"The meeting with Sandra will have to wait. I'll go and tell the guys. No shenanigans, Lorrie. Understood?"

"If you insist but —"

"No buts! I mean it, Lorrie. We're supposed to be getting them out of trouble, not digging the hole deeper."

"Get along with you now. It's better to have the conversation at the carriage house. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. If we're lucky, Madeline will be asleep."

"One can hope." James smiled and hurried out toward the carriage house.

*****

As soon as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Sandra jumped out of bed and hurried to her bedroom window. She pushed the drapes back and opened the window, taking a deep breath of the fresh, crisp morning air. It was a welcome contrast to the polluted city air she had been breathing for the past few years.

Suddenly, a tap at her door interrupted her peaceful moment. "Coming," she called out, feeling a bit annoyed.

Despite the interruption, Sandra was excited to see Lorrie and the rest of the house. She swung open the door, ready to start her day. "Good morning, Lor-" she began but stopped mid-sentence when she saw Madeline standing before her. Her mouth dropped. "Madeline."

"Sorry to disappoint you. I heard a voice, and I thought I should investigate." Madeline peeked over Sandra's shoulder. "I wasn't aware you were in residence already."

Sandra was surprised to see Madeline, and her expression showed it. "I didn't expect to see you here either," she replied.

"I had car trouble, and James insisted I stay. After all, I did live here until a few days ago."

"Of course. I'm only here for a few days." Sandra hesitated and replied, "After all, Noah left the house to me." Before Madeline could respond, Sandra closed the door, feeling a surge of satisfaction. She leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. A grin crept across her face.

Now that felt good!

*****
Sandra showered and took her time preparing for the day. She chose her favorite jeans and a loose baby blue shirt over a white tank top. By the time she was ready, her stomach was rumbling.

She was surprised to see Madeline in the hall as she closed her bedroom door. "Are you going down to breakfast? The bacon is calling my name."

"No, I'm feeling a bit queasy this morning. Would you tell Lorraine I'll have something later? I think I'll go back to bed for a while."

Sandra nodded and hurried down the stairs without another thought about the grieving widow.

*****

Sandra stepped into the kitchen and let out a contented sigh. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted towards her, and she hurried towards the pot.

"Good morning, Lorrie. You should have warned me that the mornings were so beautiful," she said as she poured herself a cup.

Lorrie smiled. "It's so nice to see you so chipper this morning, dear. Not to dampen your mood, but have you heard we have a guest? More like a witch if you ask me."

Sandra raised an eyebrow. "She was at my door this morning. Said she was surprised to see me."

"My goodness! What did the woman want?" Lorrie filled herself a cup. "Cream and sugar are on the table if you want them."

"Thank you. Will James be joining us for breakfast?" Sandra frowned. "I almost forgot that Madeline said she wasn't feeling well and might skip breakfast."

"James planned on it, but Madeline tossed a wrench into his plans. He was a bit sour when he left." She handed Sandra a small plate with a warm cinnamon roll. "Shall we enjoy the morning on the porch? And maybe you'd like to stroll through the gardens afterward. The roses are starting to open, and they smell so good. You might need a light sweater, though."

"I'd love that." Sandra placed her coffee mug on the table. "Should I grab my sweater now?"

"I've got a plate of bacon, piping hot, and the cinnamon rolls. Let's enjoy them, and then you can run back upstairs to get the sweater."

Sandra inhaled the aroma and smiled. "Sounds delicious to me."

Sandra took the coffee mugs outside, and Lorrie followed closely behind. "Your Highness would never have shared a moment like this with me. I hope you decide to stay, Sandra."

"It's beautiful, Lorrie. The sweet smell of blooming roses. Look, two hummingbirds are flitting from flower to flower." Sandra sighed. "But as for staying, we'll see after my talk with James."

******

While the two women enjoyed the morning, Madeline slipped into Sandra's room.

"Let's see who you are and why Noah would leave this mansion to you?"

She quickly opened the drawers and then the suitcase. After checking the armoire, Madeline was disappointed. "Where does this woman shop? The Goodwill? She lives in the big city, and we've got far more fashionable clothes right here in Willow Creek."

Sandra and Lorrie's laughter drifted through the open window. "She's sharing breakfast with the help? How low can she go?"

Taking a few more looks around the room, Madeline shook her head. "There's nothing here worth seeing."

As she headed towards the door, her eyes caught a glimpse of the handles of a brown satchel peeking out from under the bed. Curiosity piqued, she bent down and pulled it out, her fingers tracing the leather texture. She unzipped it and stared at a book with a beautiful, leather-bound cover.

"Hmmm, what do we have here?" Madeline pulled the leather-bound book out and read the cover. "The Secret Life of Judge Parker." Intrigued, she opened the book and began to read. With each passing moment, her heart raced faster and faster as she realized the magnitude of what she had uncovered.

"I don't know who you are, Judge Parker, or how you're connected to Sandra Monroe, but I promise to find out. For my own benefit, of course."

Madeline debated whether to take the book now or later. She decided it was too obvious if it disappeared while she was upstairs alone. She needed a plan. She slipped it back into the satchel and pushed it under the bed, murmuring, "I'll be back."

As she stood up, she couldn't shake the feeling that Sandra Monroe wasn't the person she appeared to be. "Well, Miss Ugly Duckling, what are you hiding under those bland feathers of yours?"

She walked towards the door, opened it, and hurried down the hall to her room, her eyes scanning the area for Sandra. As she reached her door, she turned and saw Sandra standing at the top of the stairs.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow


Chapter 8
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 8

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 7

Taking a few more looks around the room, Madeline shook her head. "There's nothing here worth seeing."

As she headed towards the door, her eyes caught a glimpse of the handles of a brown satchel peeking out from under the bed. Curiosity piqued, she bent down and pulled it out, her fingers tracing the leather texture. She unzipped it and stared at a book with a beautiful, leather-bound cover.

"Hmmm, what do we have here?" Madeline pulled the leather-bound book out and read the cover. "The Secret Life of Judge Parker." Intrigued, she opened the book and began to read. With each passing moment, her heart raced faster and faster as she realized the magnitude of what she had uncovered.

"I don't know who you are, Judge Parker, or how you're connected to Sandra Monroe, but I promise to find out. For my benefit, of course."

Madeline debated whether to take the book now or later. She decided it was too obvious if it disappeared while she was upstairs alone. She needed a plan. She slipped it back into the satchel and pushed it under the bed, murmuring, "I'll be back."

As she stood up, she couldn't shake the feeling that Sandra Monroe wasn't the person she appeared to be. "Well, Miss Ugly Duckling, what are you hiding under those bland feathers of yours?"

She walked towards the door, opened it, and hurried down the hall to her room, her eyes scanning the area for Sandra. As she reached her door, she turned and saw Sandra standing at the top of the stairs.
 
*****

CHAPTER 8

Hmm, what's she doing in the hallway again?

Sandra stood still at the top of the stairs, her eyes carefully following Madeline's hurried steps as she approached her bedroom door. A frown creased her forehead as she called out, "Madeline, do you need something?"

Madeline's body jerked as she spun around to face Sandra. Her expression was one of fear as if she had been caught red-handed. She stuttered, "Ne-ed some-thing? No — not really." She took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "I knocked on your door. I was hoping you could ask Lorrie to bring me a little nourishment. I'm feeling a bit under the weather and doubt I can make it down to the kitchen."

Sandra stared at the woman but added, "I hope it's nothing serious."

"No, no, not at all. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine after some rest," Madeline reassured her. "Though, I might have to extend my stay for another day."

"You should stay in bed." Sandra nodded and opened her bedroom door. "I'll grab my sweater and let Lorrie know when I go back downstairs. Will tea and toast be enough?"

Madeline coughed. "Tea and toast? Maybe something more substantial like biscuits, sausage, and eggs. Nothing fancy, of course. Whatever she has on hand. Please tell her that I don't mean to be a bother." She touched the back of her hand to her forehead and then opened her door. "I just need some rest."

Sandra watched Madeline disappear into her room and close the door before finally entering her bedroom. She quickly checked to see if anything was missing, but everything seemed to be in place. And then she remembered.

"The book!" She hurried to the bed and dropped to her knees, peering under the bed. The satchel with the book was still there. Sandra breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Lord."

Her respite was short-lived. Spying a small piece of old yellow paper peeking from under the nightstand, Sandra snatched it and examined it.

She read, "Shipment delivered by Theo. Next shipment April 12, 1921." The signature was JWP — Judge William Parker. Her eyes widened as she stared at the note.

The names were familiar, but how could they be?

"Over one hundred years ago!"

And how did it get under the nightstand?

Madeline!

Sandra's thoughts swirled like a leaf in the wind.

The paper matches the pages in the book. Did the note fall out when she opened it? If she read it, does she have any idea what it is? If she has a plan, how will it affect the mansion or me? I have more questions than answers, but I think James holds the key.

"It's time we talk."

*****

Sandra grabbed her sweater and rushed down the stairs. When she reached the dining room, she called out loudly, "Lorrie! Lorrie!"

Lorrie hurried through the kitchen door, scowling. "What's got you so excited, child?"

"I've got to talk to James. I believe Madeline was in my room and saw the book."

"The book!" Lorrie twisted her apron into a knot and then straightened it out again. "Dear me! James isn't here. He had to make a delivery."

"A delivery?" Sandra scowled. "How long will he be gone? I don't trust Madeline; she says she must stay longer because she's ill."

Lorrie nodded in agreement. "That woman is up to no good; you can be sure of that." She knotted her apron again while she thought. "I'll take her a bite to eat and see if I can learn anything. And James should be back soon."

"I hope so," Sandra sighed as she slipped her sweater over her shoulders. "I think I will walk in the garden if you don't mind."

"Go, my child. Just don't stray too far," warned Lorrie. "I better get Madeline something to eat before she howls that she's starving." The housekeeper snarled, "I thought we were through with that woman in this house." With that, she stomped back into the kitchen, determined to discover what Madeline was up to.

*****

Sandra took her time strolling through the garden, savoring the delightful scent of blooming roses that filled the air. The morning sun cast a warm golden glow across the rolling hills and lush fields, creating a picturesque view that took her breath away. She paused to admire the carriage house's charming windows and ivy-covered walls. Attached under each window were flower boxes overflowing with vibrant flowers, adding to the beauty.

Despite its small size, Sandra could see why James had chosen to stay there instead of the grand mansion. The carriage house exuded an air of tranquility and seclusion, making it an ideal place for a writer to work.

As she moved past the rose hedges, she walked through a mesmerizing field of wildflowers. The colors of the flowers were like a rainbow, and they swayed gently in the breeze as if dancing to a silent symphony. Lorrie's words, "Don't stray too far," echoed in her mind, but she couldn't resist the allure of this enchanting place.

Sandra continued wandering until the path led her through a dense forest of tall oaks that opened into a clearing. To her surprise, she discovered a cemetery with a black wrought-iron fence. Four old gravestones stood in a row; their inscriptions faded with time. Despite the place's eerie feeling, Sandra's curiosity was piqued as she approached the gate.

As Sandra lifted the latch, the gate creaked, and she felt a sudden chill run down her spine.
She felt as if someone was watching her. She turned around, her heart racing, but no one was there to be seen.

"Don't be silly, Sandra. It's just another old cemetery, and it seems very well-kept," she told herself, trying to calm her nerves.

She pushed aside her unease, opened the gate, and entered the graveyard. She gasped as she read the first name on the headstone — William Parker — Honorable Judge. Her eyes darted to the second gravestone — Ryan Hamilton — Detective. She edged closer to the third headstone — Benny Gonzales — The Hitman.

Sandra trembled as she stood in front of the fourth unmarked gravestone. She gulped, swallowing the bile building in her throat. Her eyes shifted from gravestone to gravestone, trying to make sense of it all. She felt dizzy as her thoughts swirled around in circles.

How is this possible?

Lorrie's words echoed in her mind again, "Don't stray too far." Sandra knew something wasn't right. Something told her to run, go home, and forget about the mansion, but the reporter in her wouldn't let go.

Who were the men she'd met a few days ago if the real ones were dead and buried here? And who is buried in the fourth grave? And what do James and Lorrie know about all this?

A faint rustling noise came from behind her as she stood there, breaking the silence. She spun around to see what the source of the sound was. Her heart was racing with anxiety, and her eyes struggled to adjust to the bright sunlight that was shining on her face. Amidst the glare, she glimpsed a figure moving among the trees, and her fear turned into a wave of panic. She realized she was not alone in the forest. Without a second thought, she turned and ran, the sound of footsteps echoing behind her and her mind racing with thoughts of who or what was there.

As she sprinted through the trees, branches scraped her arms and legs. Her mind raced with fear. Who was following her? What did they want?

As she ran out of the trees and across the meadow, she prayed she could reach the safety of the carriage house. Maybe James would be there.

Her hands trembled with adrenaline as she reached the cottage. She flung the door open and rushed inside, locking it behind her. She collapsed against the wall, trying to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her ears.

"You're safe, Sandra." A tall, imposing man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stood near the fireplace.

Sandra's eyes widened, and she screamed, "Who are you?"

The man turned to her and spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "I mean you know harm, Sandra. Be careful in your journey at the mansion. Danger lurks in every corner. And not all is as it seems."

Sandra stammered, "How — do you — know me? And what danger?" Chills raced up and down her body as she stared at the stranger.

His words stunned her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important about this man, something familiar.

Before she could question him further, she heard Lorrie calling her name. She stood, looked out the window, and then turned back to face the stranger. Her eyes darted around the room, but he was gone.

Sandra unlocked the door and stumbled outside, collapsing into Lorrie's arms. The last thing she heard was the housekeeper saying, "Oh dear, you've strayed too far, I think."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
The Familiar Stranger


Chapter 9
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 9

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 8

Her hands trembled with adrenaline as she reached the cottage. She flung the door open and rushed inside, locking it behind her. She collapsed against the wall, trying to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her ears.

"You're safe, Sandra." A tall, imposing man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stood near the fireplace.

Sandra's eyes widened, and she screamed, "Who are you?"

The man turned to her and spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "I mean, you know harm, Sandra. Be careful in your journey at the mansion. Danger lurks in every corner. And not all is as it seems."

Sandra stammered, "How — do you — know me? And what danger?" Chills raced up and down her body as she stared at the stranger.

His words stunned her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important about this man, something familiar.

Before she could question him further, she heard Lorrie calling her name. She stood, looked out the window, and turned back to face the stranger. Her eyes darted around the room, but he was gone.

Sandra unlocked the door and stumbled outside, collapsing into Lorrie's arms. The last thing she heard was the housekeeper saying, "Oh dear, you've strayed too far, I think."
*****

CHAPTER 9

With the help of James, Lorrie settled Sandra into her bed, tucking the comforter around her before taking James aside.

"Should we call a doctor? The girl had quite a fright, I fear."

"Are you sure that it was him? Or maybe it was one of the other guys?"

"It had to be him. Her face was drained of color. And if it were the Judge, Ryan, or Benny, they would have stayed because she'd seen them before. I am sure she found the cemetery, James. Her mind must be reeling."

"If Madeline hadn't shown up, we could have answered her questions, or at least some of them by now. That woman is nothing but trouble."

"Oh, I forgot! Earlier, Sandra said she thought Madeline had found the book." Lorrie lowered her voice. "We can't leave her alone. Her life might be in danger now."

"By Madeline, or are you suggesting he would harm her?" James walked to the window and stared outside. "He has a lot to answer for, but I don't think he would harm her. I guess Ryan could answer that better than any of us."

"Where are those three, anyhow? Usually, they are underfoot all the time."

"I suggested they stay away while Madeline is here. Being in the mansion, she could see them unless they spotted her first. Better to be safe than sorry."

"I suppose you are right. That woman needs to go. She's not welcome here as far as I'm concerned." Lorrie sighed.

"I understand, Lorrie. But you need to tread lightly until we discover how she murdered Noah."

"Do you think she did it herself?" Lorrie gasped. "But then, I wouldn't put anything past that woman."

"Let's worry about Sandra for the moment, okay? We need her to be on board and able to help us if this is going to happen. If anything goes wrong, our friends may be doomed. Especially since this is Benny's last chance."

"I know he jokes about it, but I just think it's his way of coping. Whenever he thinks about Noah, he wants to do away with Madeline himself."

"That simply can't happen. We went into this together, and we'll finish it together." James frowned. "Now, I suppose you should go and check on our houseguest. Is there a possibility that she is ill?"

Lorrie scoffed, "Not on your life. She's roaming the halls and snooping around. She's not sick."

"Then maybe I should ask the Judge to have a few of her old friends make a call," he chuckled. "It could prove very interesting."

Lorrie giggled. "Wonder if she believes in ghosts?" Still giggling, the housekeeper checked Sandra and then hurried from the room.

*****

Sandra tossed and turned beneath the comforter, her dreams turning to nightmares, swirling with terrifying images of the stranger who had confronted her in the carriage house. His face, so eerily similar to an old photograph of her long-lost father, haunted her.

She cried in her fretful sleep, "Father, where are you? Why did you leave us?"

James held her hand and tried to soothe her. He paced the floor when she calmed, wondering if they'd pushed her too far.

As she drifted deeper into the realm of dreams, she saw herself wandering through the dark corridors. The mansion seemed alive with secrets, with shadows moving in the corners of her vision. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something was watching her every move.

As she continued to navigate the mansion in her dream, she could feel a chill creeping up her spine. The walls seemed to close in around her, the paintings of past residents staring at her with accusing eyes. The creak of the floorboards beneath her feet echoed through the halls as if the house's very foundation were alive with evil energy.

As she reached the grand staircase, Sandra hesitated. The stairs appeared to stretch endlessly into the darkness below, with only the faint glow of moonlight illuminating the way. Taking a deep breath, she descended into the unknown depths.

With each step, the feeling of being watched intensified. Shadows seemed to dance along the walls, whispering unintelligible words in her ear. Sandra quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest. The air grew colder, the atmosphere thick with an oppressive dread.

A ghostly figure emerged from the shadows, shrouded in darkness, with piercing eyes that seemed to bore into her soul. She felt an icy chill run down her spine as the figure advanced towards her, his whispers growing louder and more menacing by the moment. Sandra's mind raced as she tried to understand what was happening, but all she could do was stand there, paralyzed with fear.

Out of nowhere, a mysterious woman emerged in a striking dress with a plunging neckline, black silk nylons, and long slits up the sides. She glared at the figure with disdain. With a commanding voice, she snapped, "Leave her be!" The shadowy figure lurking nearby vanished.
 
 
The woman gazed at Sandra, studying her from head to toe. Her voice was soft and sweet as she spoke. "Sweetheart, you can't be here. The madam would never approve."
 
Another stunning woman draped in a sheer peignoir appeared, her eyes filled with sadness and her voice rougher than the first woman's. "Something tells me she's looking for something else. The key, perhaps?"
 
"Stop! It's not safe for her to be here. She needs to go back."
 
Sandra wanted to protest, but the first woman opened an armoire and found a small silver bell. As she rang it, the sound was magical, and within seconds, a well-to-do man appeared and took Sandra's hand.
 
"Come with me, dear. Your dreams can't take you here. Those awaiting the darkness dwell behind these walls, still foolishly counting their gold pieces. They would steal your soul if they could," he said, leading her away from the women.
 
The man led Sandra through a maze of dimly lit corridors, the air thick with the scent of opulence and deceit. As they walked, the man whispered warnings about the dangers lurking in the shadows, about the power-hungry souls trapped within the mansion's walls.
 
Sandra's heart raced with fear as she followed the mysterious man into the opulent den of darkness. In the distance, she could hear the faint echoes of sinister laughter and the clinking of gold, sending a shiver down her spine.
 
Suddenly, they reached a grand ballroom adorned with crystal chandeliers and velvet curtains. Masked figures filled the room, dancing in a macabre frenzy, their faces twisted with greed and madness.
 
The man turned to Sandra, his eyes glowing with a mix of compassion and caution. "You must find the key, the key, to unlock the truth and escape this cursed place," he said cryptically before disappearing into the shadows.

Without explanation, the ballroom was gone, and she stood in the meadow, the moon casting an eerie glow on the four looming graves. The man who resembled her father was standing in the dark shadows, surrounded by the judge, the detective, and the hitman. They spoke in hushed tones, whispering secrets that Sandra couldn't quite make out.

Her heart raced, and a chill crept up her spine. The surrounding air seemed to thicken, suffocating her in a veil of fear. She couldn't help but feel as if something ominous was about to happen. She felt her throat tighten.

The man turned to her, his eyes burning with intensity. "You must right the wrongs, Sandra. The book holds many secrets. A treasure lies within the walls and needs to be returned to the rightful owners. These men need your help." He gently touched her cheek, and then they vanished.

*****
 
Sandra woke up drenched in a cold sweat, her heart pounding. She cried out in desperation, "Don't leave me. Please don't go." Her eyes darted frantically around the room, and then she scrambled from the bed, crawling on the floor, searching beneath it.
 
James knelt beside her and pulled her trembling body close to him. "Sandra, calm yourself. You had a nightmare. Everything's going to be okay."
 
Sandra's eyes met his, and she shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, it's not. The stranger said I needed to help them, but how can I if the book is gone?" She sobbed violently, her body wracked with fear.
 
James wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the floor and placing her back into bed. He held her close, comforting her as she slowly calmed down. But even as she lay there, with her head on his chest, she couldn't shake the feeling that her dream was only the beginning of a nightmare yet to come.

*****

Lorrie tapped on Sandra's door and opened it, motioning for James to join her in the hallway.

"Sandra, Lorrie needs me, but I'll be just outside your door. Will you be okay?"

She nodded and pulled the comforter tighter around her, whimpering, "Are you coming back?"

"Yes, I promise. You can call my name if you need me sooner."

James patted her arm and stepped into the hallway, where Lorrie waited impatiently.

*****
Lorrie approached James with a look of urgency and quickly reached into her apron pocket. She retrieved a small prescription bottle and held it out to James. "We've got proof. She killed Noah."
 
James took the bottle from Lorrie's hand and scrutinized it. He read the label aloud, "Digoxin. Where did you find this?"
 
Lorrie replied, "I found it in the drawer when Madeline asked me to look for new bedding. It was hidden among a stack of blankets."
 
James looked puzzled. "Why do you think this medication killed Noah? Isn't it a heart medicine?"
 
Lorrie nodded, "Yes, it is used to treat heart conditions, but neither has heart problems. Why else would she have it?"
 
James shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know why she would have it, but how could a heart medication be lethal to Noah?"
 
"It causes irregular heartbeats, and if she'd added it to his coffee or nightly whiskey, it could have killed him."
 
"Hmm! That's a strong possibility," James said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Would it have shown up in an autopsy?"
 
"According to Sarah, she works with Doc Travis at the morgue. One would have to know what they were looking for, but with the right test, it would."
 
"Good job, Lorrie! If we get an autopsy, we could catch her. But for now, we need to discover where the book is and calm Sandra down. Also, Ryan needs to talk with his friend and discover why he approached Sandra and his intentions. This has gotten so out of hand." James sighed heavily, lost in his thoughts.
 
"Can you reach the guys? You said you sent them away so Madeline wouldn't see them."
 

"Well, they can't go far, now can they?"
 
"I suppose not, but I worry about Benny taking chances."
 
"The Judge will keep a close eye on him. Speaking of the Judge, I need him to arrange a visit for Madeline. It's time she sees who she's messing with."
 
Lorrie let out a playful giggle. "Oh, that sounds like fun. Can I watch?"
 
James shook his head. "No, you have more important things to do, like caring for Sandra and keeping her safe."
 
Lorrie huffed. "I suppose you're right. I'll have to leave it to my imagination."
 
James couldn't help but smile. "Your imagination! Oh, dear, I am sure you'll outdo the actual visit."
 

Lorrie erupted into giggles, and her entire body shook with joy. "Maybe I should become a ghostwriter," she said between gasps of laughter. "A ghostwriter, get it?"
 
James rolled his eyes and groaned. "I'll find the guys, and you stay with Sandra." He turned his back to Lorrie and walked toward the stairs, unable to hide his amusement.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
The Familiar Stranger


Chapter 10
The Unwilling heir - Chap 10

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 9

"The Judge will keep a close eye on him. Speaking of the Judge, I need him to arrange a visit for Madeline. It's time she sees who she's messing with."
Lorrie let out a playful giggle. "Oh, that sounds like fun. Can I watch?"
James shook his head. "No, you have more important things to do, like caring for Sandra and keeping her safe."
Lorrie huffed. "I suppose you're right. I'll have to leave it to my imagination."
James couldn't help but smile. "Your imagination! Oh, dear, I am sure you'll outdo the actual visit."
Lorrie erupted into giggles, and her entire body shook with joy. "Maybe I should become a ghostwriter," she said between gasps of laughter. "A ghostwriter, get it?"
James rolled his eyes and groaned. "I'll find the guys, and you stay with Sandra." He turned his back to Lorrie and walked toward the stairs, unable to hide his amusement.
 
*****
CHAPTER 10
 

Madeline sat on the majestic four-poster bed with the covers pulled up around her. The room was dimly lit, with a single lamp on the bedside table casting a warm glow. She was reading intently from the book she had stolen from Sandra's room, "The Secret Life of Judge Parker." The book was old, with yellow pages and a musty smell. As she turned the pages, she felt a sense of excitement and intrigue building inside her.  

 

As she read the book's pages, her imagination ran wild. She pictured Judge Parker, a wealthy and judicial man, hiding his connection with the underworld and his ill-gotten gains. The book portrayed Judge Parker's lavish lifestyle in great detail. Madeline imagined the opulent parties and extravagant dinners held at his mansion. She found numerous mentions of a mansion and passionately believed that this mansion concealed those very treasures. She was certain that was what James had written about, too. 

 

Suddenly, there was a tap at her door, which startled her. She quickly hid the book under the covers and nestled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. 

 

Her voice sounded weak as she answered, "Come in."

 

Lorrie pushed the door open and entered, carrying a tray of food. "I brought you some sandwiches, fruit, and some cakes. I figured you wouldn't be joining us for dinner."

  

Madeline moaned and shook her head. "I can't imagine what's come over me."

  

Lorrie tried to look concerned and warned, "I've heard there's going to be a storm. You should try to get some rest."

 

Madeline rolled her eyes, confident Lorrie did not know what she was talking about. "It's been sunny outside all day. Not a cloud in the sky. I don't think it will storm."

 

Lorrie buried her chuckle and answered, "Mark my word, there'll be a big one tonight. It might stir up some spirits." She quickly added, "Sorry, that's an old joke. Nothing to worry about."

 

Madeline was not amused by Lorrie's babbling, "What nonsense! There's no such thing as ghosts. And if there were, I am sure you'd find them in the cemetery, not here."

 

 "You don't believe in them?" Lorrie moved closer to the bed, her eyes widening. She lowered her voice, "I once heard that this entire home was haunted." She leaned toward Madeline, asking, "I wonder what that would be like?"

 

Lorrie's presence was becoming annoying. She wanted to return to studying the book. She growled, her tone surly, "Go away with you, woman. Your foolishness gives me a headache." She raised her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. 

 

Amused, Lorrie hid her smile as she headed to the door. "Will you be needing anything else?"

 

"No, I'll be fine. I've found some reading material to entertain me if I get bored."

 

"Reading material?" Lorrie shuffled a few steps. "Anything interesting?"

Madeline stiffened, wondering if Lorrie knew about the book and Judge Parker since Noah had shared everything with the housekeeper instead of her. "Lorraine, did my poor deceased husband ever mention a judge — oh, what was his last name? Perkins? Patterson? Parker, that was it, Judge Parker."

  

"Judge Parker? I don't recall, but why do you ask? Is it something important?" Lorrie slyly asked. 

  

"No, no, of course not. It was just a name that came to me—" she coughed, fearing she'd piqued the housekeeper's curiosity. "I think it was in some papers Noah gave me to read. The Judge might have signed them or something. It's nothing to worry about," Madeline sighed. "I need to rest."

  

The housekeeper moved to the door, barely able to contain her thoughts. "Yes, get some rest." She opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and pulled it closed behind her. She chuckled and leaned against it, muttering, "Because you'll need it."

 

***** 

As James and Judge Parker stood at the end of the dimly lit hallway, Lorrie hurried towards them, her stout body shaking with excitement.  

  

"I am sure that the woman has the book," said Lorrie breathlessly, looking at the Judge. "She's been asking questions about you."

  

The Judge's face remained calm and composed. "I think you mean my grandfather, but it doesn't matter. Tonight, I will be the one visiting her, among others."

  

Lorrie's wide eyes shone with anticipation. "You'll scare the daylights out of her, won't you? She says she doesn't believe in ghosts, you know."

  

"We'll see how she feels about that in the morning," the Judge replied with amusement. For now, I need to check if Benny and Ryan have connected with anyone who can help us with the storm."

  

Lorrie gasped, "That sounds like a witch's brew."

  

The Judge chuckled. "I'm sure a few witches are among the crowd."

 

Having listened to Lorrie and the Judge, James interjected, "We need to check on Sandra as well. It wouldn't bode well if she heard anything tonight."

 

Lorrie patted James's arm. "Not to worry. She'll sleep like a baby with a cup of my grandmother's secret tea. The girl won't be disturbed — especially by Madeline's screams." Chuckling, Lorrie turned and hurried down the stairs to her kitchen. 

 

***** 

 

Madeline had always been a night owl, finding solace in the tranquility of the late hours when the world around her seemed to slip into a quiet slumber. The soft glow of the moonlight cascaded into her room, casting shadows on the walls and floor. The wind whistled around the windows as she lay in her bed, causing the drapes to sway back and forth.  

  

Suddenly, the outside lit up with a thunderous boom as a lightning bolt cracked across the sky, illuminating the room in a blinding flash. The sound was deafening, reverberating through her bones, making her heart pound against her chest. Startled, she climbed out of bed and hurried to close the drapes, shutting out the storm.  

   

Another crack of thunder boomed, and a tree branch slapped against the window, making Madeline jump and scream. She ran back to her bed, climbing in and pulling the comforter around her tightly. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease.  

  

She scolded herself, "How silly! Are you letting that babbling old lady get to you?" Then, she added, "Instead, you should think about the book and what treasures the Judge left for you to discover."  

  

Her hands fumbled beneath the covers, recovering the coveted book, and slipped it under her pillow. Satisfied it was safe, she burrowed deeper beneath the thick comforter, hoping to drown out the relentless noise from outside and find sleep. 

 

Her imagination ran wild as she listened to the gnarled tree branches scraping against the windowpanes like long claws trying to scratch their way inside. The raindrops pelted the roof with a continuous thud, sounding like soldiers marching in unison. The wind howled like a thousand tortured souls wailing in the night. Despite the eerie sounds, Madeline closed her eyes and tried to find sleep.   

  

Unbeknownst to her, a shadowy figure sat in a chair across the room, watching her intently. He waited for Madeline to drift off to sleep before making his move.  

  

As exhaustion finally overtook her, Madeline slipped into a restless sleep, haunted by a mysterious figure.  

  

Silent as a whisper, he approached her bedside, his ethereal form barely visible in the dim light. He dropped his satin robe at the bedside and slipped beneath the covers. His icy fingers touched Madeline's cheek, and his breath caressed her. She stirred slightly but remained in a deep slumber.   

  

The man grinned wickedly, relishing the fear he was about to instill in his unsuspecting victim. His lips brushed against her hair, her neck, and down across her throat. He moved his ghostly hands over her body, commanding her unwilling body to surrender to his touch. She moaned as he continued to caress her body.   

  

Suddenly, he stopped and gazed at her writhing body. Her lips moved as she begged, "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." 

 

Leaning close, he whispered, "But I must! Though it pleasures me." His voice changed as he hissed, "You have been judged guilty, Madeline, of crimes you cannot escape. I am here to deliver your punishment." His laughter was piercing. 

  

Madeline's eyes snapped open in horror as she saw the ghostly figure looming over her. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She quickly realized the room had changed, and she no longer was in the mansion. 

 

It was a familiar place - a dimly lit room where she used to work as a prostitute. It had been years since she left that life behind, but the memories would haunt her tonight.  

 

Madeline leaped from the bed, running towards the door. But the figure was faster, appearing in front of her in a swirl of dark mist. His eyes glowed with malice as he reached out to grab her, intent on dragging her into the depths of hell. 

 

The figure laughed malevolently, his breath cold against her skin. "What's the rush? You used to enjoy bringing men to their climax, begging for more. Isn't that how you trapped me?"

 

Horror engulfed her as she recognized the face of her dead husband in front of her. "Noah, please," Madeline begged, her voice barely a whisper in the darkness. "You said you loved me."

 

But Noah only laughed a cruel sound that echoed through the room like a ghostly cry. "You can't escape me, Madeline. I know your secrets, your sins."

Her legs were wobbly with fear, and her body went cold with dread as Noah's words hung in the air like a death sentence. She tried to run, but her feet felt heavy as lead, rooted to the spot as if by some unseen force. She felt panic clawing at her chest as she realized the demons of her past would force her to confront them. 

As Noah drew closer, his face contorted in a wicked grin. "You thought you could leave that life behind, but you were wrong. You stole my life." His hand, cold and clammy, stroked her breast. "And now you belong to me to do as I wish."

  

Madeline's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.   

  

To her surprise, the barrier between them shattered like glass, and she stumbled forward, away from Noah's menacing gaze. His laughter echoed behind her.  

  

She found herself outside in the storm. Frantic, she ran as fast as she could. But no matter how far she ran, she could feel Noah's eyes on her, his presence looming like a shadow at her back.  

  

As she rounded a corner, Madeline stumbled upon an old, abandoned building. Without thinking, she pushed open the creaking door and staggered inside, seeking shelter from the storm and praying Noah wouldn't find her. The inside of the building was dark and musty, the air heavy with the scent of decay.  

  

His haunting laughter told her she was not alone.   

  

Shrouded in darkness, a figure stood in the corner, watching her with cold, unseeing eyes. As the figure stepped into the dim light, Madeline felt her blood run cold. She cringed under his gaze, whimpering, "Noah."

  

He advanced toward her, his steps slow and deliberate as if savoring the fear that gripped her heart. Madeline's mind whirled with terror as she tried to understand what was happening. "Please, don't do this. You said you loved me." 

  

Noah whispered, his voice a chilling echo in the empty room. "You said the same, my dear." He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her neck. "Relax. The night is just beginning."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
The Familiar Stranger


Chapter 11
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 11

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 10

As she rounded a corner, Madeline stumbled upon an old, abandoned building. Without thinking, she pushed open the creaking door and staggered inside, seeking shelter from the storm and praying Noah wouldn't find her. The inside of the building was dark and musty, the air heavy with the scent of decay.

His haunting laughter told her she was not alone.

Shrouded in darkness, a figure stood in the corner, watching her with cold, unseeing eyes. As the figure stepped into the dim light, Madeline felt her blood run cold. She cringed under his gaze, whimpering, "Noah."

He advanced toward her, his steps slow and deliberate as if savoring the fear that gripped her heart. Madeline's mind whirled with terror as she tried to understand what was happening. "Please, don't do this. You said you loved me."

Noah whispered, his voice a chilling echo in the empty room. "You said the same, my dear." He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her neck. "Relax. The night is just beginning."
*****
CHAPTER 11

Gasping for breath, Madeline woke abruptly from her deep sleep and sat in bed. An icy chill covered her body, making her teeth chatter as she reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. The dim light illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The clock on the nightstand said eleven-thirty.

She looked around the room with her wide eyes, trying to make sense of the sudden jolt that had startled her. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mind was foggy. She questioned herself, wondering if she'd had another nightmare.

As she tried to shake off the fog, a vision of Noah crept into her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered his touch, his teasing, and the moments when she begged him not to stop. But then —

Suddenly, she felt a cold sensation enveloping her body, like icy tendrils wrapping around her. She let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell back onto the bed, pulling the covers over her head. The room was silent, except for her ragged breathing.

After a moment, she pushed the covers away from her face and peered out into the room. Her eyes nervously scanned the area, searching for any unusual movement.

"It was just a nightmare," she muttered shakily, trying to calm herself down. "Noah is dead. He wasn't here." However, her heart fluttered wildly, and her eyes darted around the room. She said, "There's no such thing as ghosts."

A gust of cold, damp air swept through the room without any explanation, and a sudden shudder coursed through her trembling body.

"Thump." Madeline ducked under the covers again, listening as the wind howled and something continued to thump against the outside of the house. The howling got louder and louder until the windows blew open. The curtains billowed, and shadows danced across the walls.

Lifting the covers to see what was happening, a sudden movement caught her eye. She gasped as a book fell from the table, breaking the spooky hush with a loud thud. Her heart raced as she quickly got out of bed and ran towards the window. With trembling hands, she slammed them closed.

Something brushed against her hair, and she spun around, but no one was there. An uneasy feeling churned in her stomach, and her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to control her fear. She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, "Is — there some — one here?"

The room was deathly quiet, and the wind had stopped blowing. The clock ticked off each second as Madeline stood there, shivering, unable to move her feet.

A deep voice shattered the silence, "Do you feel a draft?"

The room erupted in laughter, a sound that made Madeline's blood run cold as she realized she was not alone. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She felt like things were whirling around her, touching her. She swatted at the empty space.

Her heart beat faster and faster, echoing in her ears, as she scanned the dimly lit room. The shadows on the walls seemed to move, and the hair on the back of her neck bristled against her skin. She stammered, her voice barely audible, "Who's here? Show yourself."

The room seemed to swallow up her words, leaving a spooky hush punctuated only by her heavy breathing. She could feel her mind racing as she fought to keep her fear at bay.

Her thoughts screamed, "Run, Madeline. Get out of here."

She bolted towards the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook with fear as she fumbled for the handle, the cold metal slipping from her grasp before she got a firm grip. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and she ran down the dimly lit hallway, her breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed against the walls.

The footsteps behind her grew louder and closer, each passing second making her heart beat even more erratic. A single thought consumed her mind: escape. She imagined his hot breath on the back of her neck, and fear overwhelmed her.

In mid-stride, she abruptly stopped running, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief. A figure stood at the top of the staircase, waiting for her. She recognized the face, and her heart skipped a beat as it turned to ice.

"Noah? It can't be. You're dead and buried," she gasped, her hands covering her mouth in disbelief.

He reached for her, a twisted smile on his face. "You can't run from me, Madeline," he taunted. His icy fingers grasped her wrist, and she crumbled to the floor, her mind reeling with horror.

*****

Loud, sinister laughter awakened Madeline from her deep slumber. Her eyes flew to the clock on the nightstand. The hands were straight up — precisely midnight. She could hear voices getting louder and louder.

"Drink up! The night is just beginning," a male voice shouted, followed by another voice slurred with alcohol, saying, "Let the trial begin!"

"What's your hurry, Frank? You know she's guilty, and she's going to be dead for a very long time," another voice chimed in, dripping with malice. "We've got forever."

"Yeah, she killed our friend, didn't she?" said a third voice, filled with contempt. "It's time for her to pay."

"Let's not forget, she stole the Judge's property. No one steals from the Judge and lives." A round of high-pitched laughter filled the room. "Especially when they think they can steal the treasure."

Shivering, Madeline leaned forward, peering at nothing but darkness. Still, she declared loudly, "You can stop your nonsense because I don't believe in ghosts."

A roar of raucous laughter bounced from every corner of the room. "She doesn't believe in ghosts."

A yellow glow filled the room, illuminating a room full of people dressed in various stages of clothing. The women wore delicate lingerie, and the men sported everything from immaculate suits to casual jeans.

In her usual snobby way, Madeline approached the situation with haughty anger. "The jokes are over! Does this look like a bordello?" She scowled, "Take your celebration and get out! I'm going to sleep."

Kitty, the group's ringleader, strolled to the bed with a coy smile. "Well, well, well, it looks like our Sleeping Beauty has awakened," she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not a celebration, deary. It's your trial. And there will be no more sleeping for you."

Madeline's bravado dissipated as she recognized the woman standing before her. "Kitty?" she gasped in disbelief.

She moved to get out of bed, but Kitty grabbed her arm with a vice-like grip. "Oh no, you don't. You're not going anywhere until you pay your dues," she said with a wicked smile.

Madeline struggled against her, trying to break free, but Kitty's hold was too strong.

"Let go of me," Madeline cried. She rubbed her eyes and stared at the vision in front of her. "This is a dream, and I want it to stop. You died, and so did Maggie."

A woman suddenly appeared next to Kitty. "Did someone mention my name?" She giggled at Kitty and then turned to face Madeline, sneering, "Yes, I died, but you never shed a tear. You thought you were better than us, stealing Noah from the Madam. All you wanted was his money, not his love. Though I did hear that you were begging for it earlier tonight." Kitty and Maggie snickered, sharing knowing glances.

An evil gleam appeared in Maggie's eye. "I don't care how she treated me, but we have time on our hands while we wait for the Judge. Maybe we should pay her back for taunting Teresa when she lost her hair from cancer."

"Great idea!" A scissor magically appeared in Kitty's hand. She leaned toward Madeline, muttering, "Chop, Chop!"

Maggie grasped a clump of Madeline's hair in her hand, laughing. "Cut it good and short. Or better yet, we could shave it."

Madeline tried pulling away as she screamed, "No, stop it!" She jumped back on the bed, shivering in fear. Her hands covered her long locks of hair.

"Do it! Do it!" rose from the group of men as they stomped their shoes against the wood floors.

Madeline struggled to escape but was no match for the two women. "Hold her in front of the mirror so she can see those perfect locks fall to the floor, piece by piece."

A male voice yelled across the room. "Make her cut it herself. She'll whine like a baby, and we can laugh at her like she laughed at Teresa."

Tears streamed down Madeline's face. "No, you can't. I never meant to hurt her, but she looked weird with no hair."

"And so will you." Maggie held the scissors out, but Madeline refused to take them.

Kitty held her, and Maggie began to cut chunks of hair, letting it fall to the floor while laughter filled the room. Madeline cried in fear and agony. "Please, don't do this. I'm begging you."

Suddenly, the laughter faded, and a stillness filled the room. A man stood in the center of the room, a gavel in his hand. "Enough! This is a trial, not a child's playground."

His gavel echoed in the room as the Judge called out the accused's name. "Madeline Wakefield, you have many crimes to pay for, but tonight, you stand trial for the death of Noah Wakefield and the theft of Judge Parker's book. What say you?"

Madeline cried, "No, it wasn't me. There are others in this house — maybe the housekeeper or that woman who says she is a reporter. You must believe me. I didn't do it. I'm the grieving widow, and I've been left penniless."

Kitty let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, dear Madeline, always the drama queen. You can try to spin your tales, but we know the truth. You and your lover are responsible."

"How can you say that?" Madeline's voice trembled as she addressed the ghostly figure before her. "I'm not guilty."

Kitty's voice was bitter and menacing as she spoke up again. "We're here to remind you, Madeline. You may have turned your back on us, but your past sins will always haunt you."

Maggie's laughter echoed through the room, cruel and mocking, as she spoke with a sharpness that cut through the air. "You can't escape the truth, Madeline. You can't run from what you've done. We know!"

Madeline's body froze with fear, and she felt a cold sweat on her skin. The shadows seemed to close around her, suffocating her with their accusing silence. She struggled to find her voice as she protested, her words barely louder than a whisper. "I — I didn't kill anyone. I was just a witness." She swallowed hard, and then her words tumbled from her mouth. "The sheriff, he was the one who put the medicine in Noah's whiskey."

The room fell silent as Madeline made her confession. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Kitty and Maggie's figures seemed to fade in the darkness, their accusing eyes disappearing like shadows in the night.

Tears streamed down Madeline's face as she realized she had to tell the truth if she was going to survive the night.

"I didn't do it. It was the sheriff. He said if I didn't do what he wanted, he would arrest me and say I killed Noah," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear. "He hid the pills in my drawer."

The Judge looked at her intensely and asked, "Why was the sheriff in your bedroom? Were you two lovers? Did you plan this together, hoping to gain the mansion and the treasures hidden within its walls?"

"After reading some of Noah's papers, I discovered the mansion's secret. The sheriff and I became friendly, and he convinced me I needed his help to find the treasure. I didn't realize his intentions until I was in too deep." Madeline wailed, "I wanted the treasure, but I meant no harm to Noah." She rushed toward the bed and frantically searched for the book that had caused all the trouble. Finally, she found it under the covers and handed it to the Judge. "Here, take the book back. I'll leave town and never return. I'll do whatever you ask, but please, end this torment," she pleaded, hoping that the Judge would believe her and put an end to the nightmare.

Before he could answer, a sharp knock on the door interrupted the chaos. The sound reverberated through the space, causing a momentary hush to fall over the group. Madeline's heart leaped with hope of a rescue from this nightmare, and she cried out, "Help! Someone, please help me!"

"Silence," the Judge snapped. She cringed under his cold stare and closed her mouth.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Madeline shivered as she recognized the silhouette of the sheriff. But this was not the regular sheriff as she had known him. His eyes glowed with a sinister light, and his face was devoid of emotion except a twisted, evil grin. Madeline shrank away from the figure, overcome with terror.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," the sheriff drawled, his voice dripping with venom. "Seems like we have a little party going on in Madeline's bedroom. And I wasn't invited."

"It's not —" One look at the Judge and Madeline moved away toward her bed.

The Judge grinned at the sheriff. "You are mistaken. Tonight, you are the guest of honor, and I have the privilege of delivering your reward." The Judge moved closer to the man, smiling, but his eyes said something entirely different. "You have been cast out of purgatory, and your eternal abode shall be in hell."

The sheriff gasped at the Judge's words. "No, let me explain," the accused pleaded. "It's all her fault. She did this."

Without uttering a word, the Judge placed his hand on the sheriff's shoulder. Flames seared his shirt. The man screamed and fell to his knees, writhing in pain.

"You knew the rules, and you broke them. One chance, no more." He shook his head.

"But she —" the accused tried to protest.

The Judge shrugged his shoulders. "I have no jurisdiction over mortals, but you —" With a simple nod, a bevy of spiritual bodies surrounded the sheriff, ripping at his body and howling like the wind. Hundreds of bats appeared from nowhere, biting and clawing at the doomed man.

A black cloak of darkness surrounded him as he pleaded, "No, give me a chance." His words gurgled in his throat until he couldn't breathe anymore. His body jerked and then ceased to move.

The Judge turned his back on the lifeless body, murmuring, "You've had your last chance. May you burn in hell."

The body was yanked through the wall, disappearing into the dark, and a deathly bone-chilling scream rattled the room.

Madeline shrank against the wall, fearing what would come next.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways


Chapter 12
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 12

By Begin Again

THE END OF CHAPTER 11

Without uttering a word, the Judge placed his hand on the sheriff's shoulder. Flames seared his shirt. The man screamed and fell to his knees, writhing in pain.

"You knew the rules, and you broke them. One chance, no more." He shook his head.

"But she —" the accused tried to protest.

The Judge shrugged his shoulders. "I have no jurisdiction over mortals, but you —" With a simple nod, a bevy of spiritual bodies surrounded the sheriff, ripping at his body and howling like the wind. Hundreds of bats appeared from nowhere, biting and clawing at the doomed man.

A black cloak of darkness surrounded him as he pleaded, "No, give me a chance." His words gurgled in his throat until he couldn't breathe anymore. His body jerked and then ceased to move.

The Judge turned his back on the lifeless body, murmuring, "You've had your last chance. May you burn in hell."

The body was yanked through the wall, disappearing into the dark, and a deathly bone-chilling scream rattled the room.

Madeline shrank against the wall, fearing what would come next.



CHAPTER 12

Sandra woke up in a surprisingly good mood, the sun shining through her window and birds chirping outside. She stretched her limbs and smiled as she got out of bed, feeling energized and ready to start the day. She slipped on her slippers and headed to the bathroom, but something caught her eye.

She gasped in disbelief. "It can't be." Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried to the foot of her bed. But it was — the book. She glanced around the room, but nothing else except Judge Parker's book was different.

Could Madeline have returned it? She couldn't think of anyone else who would have.

She quickly scrambled into bed, sitting cross-legged, the book cradled in her lap. She slowly opened the cover, and as she did, the pages turned on their own with a gentle rustling sound. Her eyes widened in surprise as she watched the pages turn by themselves.

Suddenly, the room darkened, and a cold gust of wind swept through it, making the curtains flutter. Goosebumps prickled Sandra's skin, and she suddenly felt uneasy. Her heart raced as she felt like someone was watching her.

"Who's there?" Sandra's voice trembled as she clutched her pillow, her eyes scanning the darkened room. "Speak up!"

As she looked towards the closet door, it slowly creaked open, revealing a wispy, pale figure. Sandra's pulse quickened as she saw the ghostly form move closer. "The book holds many answers, Sandra," the eerie voice said.

Sandra's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the apparition, her mind struggling to understand what she saw. She stammered, "Who — are — you?"

"Who I am is of little concern for the moment." The light surrounding the figure flickered and then dimmed. "I've little time."

Sandra inhaled sharply; her breath jagged as she spoke. "Are — you —" She swallowed hard, her words caught in her throat. "What —do you —" Her voice trailed off, unable to form the words.

Out of nowhere, a woman appeared, gliding past the wispy figure. She wore a long Victorian gown embroidered with delicate details. The fitted bodice of her dress accentuated her slender form while the sleeves billowed gently. A string of pearls adorned her neck, and her presence carried an air of refinement and melancholy. She seemed like a specter trapped between the worlds of the living and the dead.

"Forgive me, child. One cannot send a boy to do a woman's work," she said gracefully, floating towards the four-poster bed. Lace gloves adorned her slender and delicate hands. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Victoria, the loving mistress of Judge William Parker. I've given my life to save my darling, yet he remains chained to the past. Now, I understand you will be given the task."

Sandra reacted with a sharp, audible inhale. "My task?"

"Of course, child. You have the book; therefore, you will learn its secrets and, more importantly, what must be done."

Sandra wrapped the covers tightly around her as a shiver of unease gripped her. "Secrets? You mean the —" She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to unearth the Judge's dark past and incur Victoria's wrath.

"Calm yourself. I know the book speaks of murder, theft, and slavery, but that was a long time ago. Before he passed away, the Judge wanted to make amends, but he couldn't." Victoria turned her head and drifted away, moving closer to the closet door. "Perhaps James has chosen the wrong person. It's a treacherous path."

"James? The writer?" Sandra asked, intrigued.

Victoria's laughter floated in the air, a spectral sound of forgotten joy. "He's much more than that. James holds the wisdom and the keys to ending the sorrow that haunts these walls and the spirits that roam the graveyard at night."

"The lights? I saw the lights," Sandra said, her journalistic instincts taking over. "Who were they?"

The wispy figure spoke softly, his light glowing brighter as he addressed Victoria. "Our duty is to the book, not the wandering souls."

She nodded in agreement as she returned to Sandra's bedside. "Of course, the boy is right. For now, our concern is the book."

The pages of the leather book fluttered one last time and then came to a halt. A small, flat package was taped to one of the pages.

"Inside, you will find a key. Take it and follow me. I will show you the door it unlocks, but be warned, you enter at your own risk." Victoria's hand stretched out, and she touched the leather book, her fingers caressing it as if she had been lost in the past for a moment.

Returning to the task at hand, she looked at Sandra's pajamas and chuckled softly. "A change of clothing might be more suitable. Hurry, and we'll wait outside."

Sandra hesitated, her mind racing with questions and doubts. What awaited her if she followed Victoria? Was it worth the risk? Should she tell James and Lorrie, or would they stop her from searching?

Sensing her doubts, the ghostly figure whispered, "It's your choice. You do not have to seek out the answers. I am here to ask." Her silhouette began to fade.

Pushing her fears aside, Sandra jumped out of bed. "No, I want to go," she said with determination. She grabbed a shirt and jeans and rushed into the bathroom to change. Her mind swirled in confusion, but the thrill of adventure pulled her forward.

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, Sandra spoke to herself in a wavering voice, "I don't — I didn't believe in ghosts, but how can I explain my visitors?" She sighed. "I don't want to wake up if I'm dreaming." She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. "Real or not, prepare yourself, Sandra, for an adventure you can never explain." She smiled, ready for the challenge.

******

Madeline hesitated for a moment at the top of the stairs. She heard hushed voices coming from Sandra's room. The previous night's memories flashed through her mind, but her curiosity overcame her apprehension. She shook her head, trying to dispel her foolish fears.

"This house is getting to you, Madeline. It was just a crazy nightmare and nothing else," she muttered. "I'm leaving, so what's the harm of listening to see what that woman is up to?"

As she approached Sandra's door, the voices stopped. She pressed her ear closer to listen and saw the doorknob turn. Stifling a gasp, she hurried across the hall, slipped inside another bedroom, and peered through a tiny gap in the door.

She watched as Sandra exited her room, clutching the book, and hurried down the dimly lit hallway. She stepped out of her hiding spot, took a few tentative steps towards the stairs, but then hesitated, mulling over the possibilities.

"She's got the book with her. Did she find a clue to the treasure?" Her thoughts flashed to the nightmare and then back to Sandra. "Am I going to let her find it?" Madeline grinned because she knew the answer. "Absolutely not!"

She hurried to the end of the hall and peeked around the corner in time to see Sandra disappear around another corner. She could feel her adrenaline pumping through her veins as she rushed to keep Sandra in sight. In her heightened excitement, she failed to notice the change in temperature as she followed Sandra.

Victoria drifted through the shadowy corridor and descended a long, winding staircase, stopping occasionally to listen and then beckon Sandra to follow. The steps creaked beneath Sandra's feet, and layers of cobwebs brushed against her face. The musty air filled her nostrils as they ventured further into the mansion. Sandra realized no living person had been inside these rooms for a long time. Her heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement.

Caught up in her thoughts, Sandra hadn't realized she was suddenly alone. "Victoria? Are you still here?" Chills swept over her, leaving her in a cold, clammy sweat. She felt a presence lurking in the shadows, watching her. "Victoria, is that you?" The cold made her teeth chatter as she asked, "Is — someone — there?"

There was no response, only faint murmurings in the distance. As Sandra strained to listen, she heard the staircase creak and footsteps echoing in the hallway, gradually getting closer and closer. It was then that she knew someone was following her. Her mind screamed, "Hide."

Panic set in as she desperately searched for a place where she wouldn't be seen. She pushed open a nearby door with trembling hands and stepped inside. It was a grand ballroom with vaulted ceilings embellished with intricate plaster medallions and beautiful painted artwork. Thick velvet drapes hung over the dusty windows, casting the room in a dim and spooky light. Along the walls, there were matching velvet sofas and small wooden tables. A spiral staircase led to the curved observation balconies on the upper level with tiered crystal chandeliers glittering in the soft light. A baby grand piano played a soft, melancholy tune.

As she stood frozen in place, Sandra sensed more than she saw. Groups of people lurked in the shadows, men in tuxedos and women with fancy updos, elaborate gowns, and massive jewelry. Their eyes glowed with an eerie light, watching her every move as she tentatively stepped further into the room. The murmuring of voices filled the air, but the words were unintelligible, adding to the heavy atmosphere.
 
A cold gust of wind swept through the room, causing her hair to stand on end. The faint light flickered, casting wispy shadows that seemed to dance around her. She felt a presence behind her, and an icy chill crept across her shoulders and up her neck. She slowly turned around, but there was nothing there, only the darkness that seemed to engulf her.

In an attempt to leave, she grabbed the doorknob, but the door she'd entered through would no longer open. The air grew thicker with the stench of decay, causing her to gag as she tried to suppress a rising sense of panic. The low moans grew louder, echoing off the walls and sending chills throughout her trembling body.

A flash of movement caught her eye. A pale and gaunt figure stood in the corner of the room. Its eyes glowed with an eerie light as it slowly turned to face her. Sandra's heart pounded in her chest.

As the figure drew closer, Sandra could see its twisted features, its skeletal hands reaching out to her. It let out a guttural groan, sending Sandra stumbling backward in terror, her eyes wide with fear. She reached out a hand, searching for something to defend herself with, but found only empty air.

She tripped over something on the floor and fell hard, the impact knocking the wind out of her. She lay there, gasping for breath, as she felt his icy hand wrap around her ankle and drag her toward the darkness. She screamed, the sound reverberating off the walls as she desperately clawed at the floor, trying to break free. But he was relentless, his grip unyielding as it pulled her closer and closer to the shadows.

The room was alive with whispers and moans, a chorus of the damned that sent tremors through her body. Sandra closed her eyes, willing herself to wake up from this nightmare. However, when she opened them again, she found herself trapped in the ballroom, with the ghostly figures closing in on her.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a frantic voice screamed, "Sandra, grab my hand."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly mistress


Chapter 13
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 13

By Begin Again

THE END OF CHAPTER 12

A flash of movement caught her eye. A pale and gaunt figure stood in the corner of the room. Its eyes glowed with an eerie light as it slowly turned to face her. Sandra's heart pounded in her chest.

As the figure drew closer, Sandra could see its twisted features, its skeletal hands reaching out to her. It let out a guttural groan, sending Sandra stumbling backward in terror, her eyes wide with fear. She reached out a hand, searching for something to defend herself with, but found only empty air.

She tripped over something on the floor and fell hard, the impact knocking the wind out of her. She lay there, gasping for breath, as she felt his icy hand wrap around her ankle and drag her toward the darkness. She screamed, the sound reverberating off the walls as she desperately clawed at the floor, trying to break free. But he was relentless, his grip unyielding as it pulled her closer and closer to the shadows.

The room was alive with whispers and moans, a chorus of the damned that sent tremors through her body. Sandra closed her eyes, willing herself to wake up from this nightmare. However, when she opened them again, she was trapped in the ballroom, with the ghostly figures closing in on her.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a frantic voice screamed, "Sandra, grab my hand."

*****
CHAPTER 13

Lorrie paced the bedroom, her concern for Sandra evident in every furrow of her brow. "For the likes of me, Victoria, I cannot fathom what you thought you were doing. Did you think you were leading the poor girl into a haunted tea party?"

Victoria, her demeanor somber, glided toward the window. "Now, you mind your station, Lorrie, speaking to me in that tone." Her anger flared. A coldness emanated from her wispy figure, and the curtains swayed.

"She wasn't prepared for any of it," Lorrie continued, her apron twisted in knots. "In my time, we'd have been scandalized to the bones if we caused such a ruckus amongst the living."

Victoria turned to face Lorrie, her eyes momentarily resting on Sandra's still form. "It was the stranger that saved her." Her ethereal light flickered as she pressed herself to admit that things might have been much worse without him.

"The same man who was at the carriage house?" Lorrie's mind raced. "He's an old friend of the Judge."

"Impossible!" Victoria's voice softened with a touch of sadness. Her hand instinctively reached for the locket on her neck, symbolizing her lost love, the Judge. "He was not one of the Judge's old cronies. Never would I have forgotten those piercing blue eyes or his willingness to risk everything for the living."

Lorrie chuckled with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Victoria, does your heart pitter-patter for another?"

Victoria huffed, her facade of aloofness cracking slightly. "Smother your nonsense! A lady may admire heroics from afar and not dishonor herself."

A knock at the door interrupted their discussion. The door opened, and James entered the room, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.

His eyes met Victoria's with disdain, and then he turned to focus on Lorrie and Sandra. "How is she?" His voice was tense. "And why is that one here?"

A cold breeze blew across the room as Victoria turned away, her anger sending faint murmurings of distrust echoing around the room.

Lorrie adjusted Sandra's comforter before answering, "Sandra is resting comfortably. The tea has helped, of course." Lorrie nodded toward Victoria before continuing, "She says the Judge's friend saved our girl. Do you know how or why he was there?"

James sighed heavily. "Actually, I do. I've just come from Madeline's room. Your tea has put that thorn in my side in a pleasant state for the moment. The Judge and Tim, the stranger, were there as well."

Victoria's eyes flared with anger, and her presence seemed to drain the warmth from the air. Her haughty tone spoke volumes. "William's grandson? What does that snot-nosed boy have to do with any of this? No wonder nothing is getting done." Victoria spat, leaving a cold, icy sensation in the room. "Trying to follow in his grandfather's footsteps?"

"Not likely! The mob murdered him because they wanted the book, and he wouldn't give it to them. He's here because he pleaded his grandfather's case and was given one chance to make amends. On the other hand, your interference almost destroyed his efforts."

"My what?" Victoria's ethereal light sparked around her. "My actions, you mean! Do you dare to question me? You were doing nothing. You brought the mortal here but did not tell her anything. Well, now she knows what she's up against, right?" Objects in the room rattled, and faint whispers echoed as if the room itself protested her fury.

"Victoria, get off your pedestal. That might have worked in your day, but it won't do anything here. Sandra could have been lost forever, and the book has disappeared." James shook his head, trying to dispel his anger.

"Maybe the stranger has it?" Victoria murmured, suggesting he wasn't as innocent or heroic as it seemed.

"That's doubtful. His name is Tim, and his only concern was saving Sandra."

"Why? So, he's Billy's friend. What connection does that give him to the mortal?" Still searching for salvation for her acts, Victoria continued to portray the aristocrat she once was, speaking down to the others.

"She's an important part of his past. Like all of us, he has something to atone for. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and lost his wife and four-year-old daughter. He will risk everything, including his one chance for redemption, to save Sandra."

"She is his daughter?" Lorrie gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth in surprise. "James, we must tell her."

"I agree. Sandra needs to know the entire story, and whether she proceeds will be up to her. Noah, or any of us, ever thought this would become such a tangled web. The Judge —" James glared at Victoria. "Or, as Victoria says, Billy was only trying to save his grandfather by returning the hidden treasures, and then Ryan and Benny got caught up in it, too."

Lorrie's hands twisted her apron as she paced. "If the book —" She cried, "Oh, James, the Judge — both of them are doomed."

A sorrowful, guttural wail escaped Victoria's being. Her figure appeared to fade, losing its intense light. "No, it can't be. Tell me, I'm not responsible for dooming my love to hell. It can't be."

"Without the book —" James shrugged his shoulders.

"Wait! Sandra has the key. I gave it to her before we —" Victoria's voice trailed off.

James's eyes flared with anger as he spun around to face Victoria. He took several menacing steps toward her before Lorrie stepped between the two, clutching the front of his shirt.

"Now, James, get control of yourself. I'm sure Victoria is rightfully suffering as it is." She cast a doubtful look in the woman's direction before continuing,  "Squabbling won't —"

"Squabbling! If she weren't already dead, I'd kill her myself," James snarled. Exhaling, he removed Lorrie's hands and looked into her eyes. A gentleness returned, and he sighed. "You are right, dear lady. My job is to make amends and not anything else."

Mournful whispering floated from Victoria's being before she spoke, "I'm sorry. I was only trying to help. You know I would never do anything to hurt the Judge — my love. But how is his grandson involved in this?"

A spiteful grin crossed Lorrie's face as she answered, "You mean you've been left in the dark?" Lorrie chuckled and continued, "The Judge's last chance hangs on the success of his grandson, or Billy, as you prefer to call him."

"On Billy? How can that young boy atone for my William's mistakes?" Victoria huffed.

James answered this time.,"He's not a boy any longer. He was a well-respected Judge. He was murdered when the mob came looking for the book, and he refused to tell them where it was hidden. He knew that his grandfather had been trying to make amends before his untimely death, so he petitioned to stand in his place."

Victoria gasped. "You mean, he was willing to surrender himself to —" As remorse filled Victoria's being, her light brightened again, and the chill left the room.

A low moan from the bed stopped all conversation as the three ethereal spirits turned toward Sandra.

Lorrie hurried to the bedside, lifting Sandra's hand in hers. "She'll be awake very soon, James. It's time to call that meeting and clear the air. I'm sure she'll have plenty of questions if she doesn't jump out of bed and run. And you should be prepared with the answers."

*****

Sandra sat in the dimly lit study; a fog swirled around in her mind, leaving her confused and slightly disoriented. The lingering effects of the ethereal attack left her weak and drained. Her hands trembled as she wrapped them around a warm cup of tea, trying to calm her nerves.

She'd always been skeptical of the supernatural, but now, faced with her current reality, she couldn't deny the truth unless she was insane. She studied the crowded room, trying to recognize those she knew, those she had assumed were mortals, and those who sent goosebumps throughout her body.

Lorrie bustled about with trays of tea and pastries. James, the Judge, Ryan, and Benny were in deep conversation with another man. As he turned and glanced at Sandra, she felt a sudden warmth surround her.

Her eyes widened as she recognized him. He'd been the stranger who confronted her in the carriage house and warned her of the danger. Once again, she felt a familiarity in his face and a kindness in his piercing blue eyes.

Was he real or a ghost? Were any of these mortals? Surely, Lorrie and James were of this world, right? And the Judge, Ryan, and Benny —" Hadn't she talked and joked with them after Noah's funeral? They had to be mortals as well, right? Had Victoria been a dream and the rest a nightmare?

Sandra's gaze flitted from one figure to another, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of the surreal tableau before her. The warmth from the stranger's glance lingered, starkly contrasting the cold uncertainty gripping her.

Lorrie placed her tray on the side table and hurried across the room to Sandra. She was well aware of the confusion the girl must feel.

"Lorrie," Sandra began, her voice wavering slightly, "what's happening? Who are they?" She gestured towards the group engaged in conversation and the vague figures in the back of the room.

"James and a few others will explain it to you, my dear. You've been through quite an ordeal, which none of us intended." The housekeeper patted Sandra's arm. "Are you sure you are up to this conversation? It can wait if you aren't."

"No! I need to understand. Was —" She swallowed hard and let her eyes dart around the room, observing the people she thought she knew and those she did not. "Lorrie, did I awake from a nightmare, or am I still dreaming?"

"Oh, child, I know this is impossible to understand or accept, but I pray for everyone's sake you will try to listen and comprehend what they tell you."

Sandra's eyes pleaded as she looked at the housekeeper, the woman she had dubbed a sweet grandmother. "Are they real, a figment of my imagination or—" Sandra stammered, "Are they ghosts — spirits of dead people?"

Lorrie's smile was warm and comforting, but her words sent a chill through Sandra. "They are like us, dear. Souls trapped in this purgatorial mansion, seeking solace and redemption."

Sandra's mind reeled at the revelation. "But — but I've talked to them, laughed with them. They seemed so real."

James knelt beside Sandra's chair and took her trembling hand, his expression grave yet compassionate. "In this realm, realities intertwine, and the boundaries between mortal and spirit blur. The experiences you remember are real but exist in a plane where past and present converge."

Shaking her head, Sandra gulped. "You —" Her eyes shifted to Lorrie. "And you — you're spirits, too?"

Lorrie nodded. "James and I are here by our own choosing. Me, because this is the only home I ever knew. My grandmother and her mother were the first housekeepers. When my mother passed, I became the last one to exist in the mansion. It sat empty for years until it was deemed to be a way station, purgatory, so to speak. The people who were repentant of their past were given one last chance to redeem themselves. I chose to join James in managing the house. His duties are to write the ending of each spirit's story and present it to a panel that decides whether they receive eternal life or are doomed to damnation."

Sandra stammered, "The nightmare — were they —"

"Real?" James squeezed her hand. "Yes, but you were never to see them. Victoria overstepped." Lorrie's eyes darkened as she glared at the other woman.

Victoria, usually quick to display her emotions, remained silent, her gaze fixed on Sandra with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

"The Judge, Ryan, and Benny, are they spirits, too?"

"Yes, each one of them has their own story. The Judge and the book are what brought you here." James's eyes flickered toward Victoria, and then he continued, "Victoria refers to the Judge as Billy because he is the grandson of Judge William Parker, whose life story you discovered in the book. After his murder, our Judge chose to return to purgatory and make amends for his grandfather so that they both could live throughout eternity together. He hoped with your help, he could make the lives of some better by returning things stolen, providing money, or simply finding ways to better their lives."

"But why me? I'm a fledgling reporter with little knowledge of crime or spirits." Sandra choked on her words, "Until this second — this — couldn't — be real."

"We have watched you and observed your actions," Lorrie added gently, her ethereal presence exuding warmth despite the somber atmosphere. "You possess a kindness and determination that we believe can help us break free from this cycle of eternal suffering."

"You're asking me to save you from damnation?" Sandra finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes widened in disbelief, but she remained silent, urging James to continue.

James nodded solemnly. "Yes, but it's not just for our sake. There are forces at play here, such as ancient debts and unfinished business, that tie us to this place. We believe that by helping us, you can find answers to your questions, perhaps even closure."

The stranger, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting, approached and joined the conversation. For some unexplainable reason, Sandra felt warm as the chill left her bones, and their eyes met.

"You — you were in the carriage house. You warned me of the danger. It's odd, but I felt like I knew you before that day. Is that possible?"

He smiled and introduced himself, "For now, you can call me Tim." His voice resonated with a quiet strength. "I've walked this path before you, navigating the complexities of this limbo. Your presence here is not a coincidence. I suggested to James and the Judge that you might hold the metaphorical and literal key to our salvation."

Sandra's heart raced as she absorbed the weight of Tim's words. "A key? What key?"

"You have the key to unlocking the mysteries that bind us here," James explained, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope. You have the power to unveil the secrets buried within this mansion, the truths hidden in forgotten memories."

"Me? But how?" Sandra's voice trembled with fear and determination.

Tim placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Through understanding, through courage, and through the choices you make. The path ahead is daunting, but you are not alone. A common goal, a shared destiny, binds us."

Sandra looked around, her eyes meeting those of her spectral companions and the strangers who were not quite mortal, not quite ghosts.

"Will you help us, Sandra?" Lorrie's voice carried a plea and a promise.

Sandra took a deep breath, steeling herself for the journey ahead. "Yes," she said with conviction, her voice steadier now. "I'll do whatever I can to help." Knowing she had no idea what she was getting herself into but determined to discover the secrets buried within the mansion walls, she agreed.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly mistress


Chapter 14
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 14

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 13
He smiled and introduced himself, "For now, you can call me Tim." His voice resonated with a quiet strength. "I've walked this path before you, navigating the complexities of this limbo. Your presence here is not a coincidence. I suggested to James and the Judge that you might hold the metaphorical and literal key to our salvation."

Sandra's heart raced as she absorbed the weight of Tim's words. "A key? What key?"

"You have the key to unlocking the mysteries that bind us here," James explained, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope. You have the power to unveil the secrets buried within this mansion, the truths hidden in forgotten memories."

"Me? But how?" Sandra's voice trembled with fear and determination.

Tim placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Through understanding, through courage, and through the choices you make. The path ahead is daunting, but you are not alone. A common goal, a shared destiny, binds us."

Sandra looked around, her eyes meeting those of her spectral companions and the strangers who were not quite mortal, not quite ghosts.

"Will you help us, Sandra?" Lorrie's voice carried a plea and a promise.

Sandra took a deep breath, steeling herself for the journey ahead. "Yes," she said with conviction, her voice steadier now. "I'll do whatever I can to help." Knowing she had no idea what she was getting herself into but determined to discover the secrets buried within the mansion walls, she agreed.

*****
CHAPTER 14
The sound of voices had drawn Madeline to the staircase. Fear and exhaustion were etched across her face, erasing her usual air of haughtiness. Her hair, usually perfectly styled, was disheveled, strands escaping the confines of her bun. Dark circles marred her eyes, evidence of the horrors she'd encountered — the loss of loved ones, the betrayal of trust, and the constant threat of danger.

After she struggled to wake from Lorrie's tea-induced sleep, the line between reality and dream was blurred. Now, as she huddled on the staircase, her shoulders were hunched as if expecting another wave of terror. Her hands trembled, her fingers gripping the worn railing. Her thoughts were a chaotic mix of the past — the horrifying nightmares, pangs of jealousy towards Sandra's acceptance into the mansion — a place Madeline had longed to be a part of, and most of all, the regret of lost opportunities of a life with Noah. Tears welled in her eyes as memories of Noah intertwined with the guilt of her betrayal.

"Why Sandra? Why not me?" Madeline's voice was a whisper, a plea to the universe. But she quickly silenced her thoughts. "Don't go there. You know what you've become since marrying Noah." Her voice was laced with bitterness, her mind a whirlwind of confusion, and yet, her heart yearned for something more, something she'd lost. The internal battle she waged was a storm of emotions threatening to consume her.

At the thought of Noah, the threatening tears prevailed and rolled down her cheeks. She brushed them away with her hand, reprimanding herself for lapsing into such foolishness. "It's too late! What's done is done, and you can't bring him back." Her words were a desperate plea, a futile attempt to convince herself of a truth she was unwilling to accept.

Madeline found herself in a perplexing dilemma, torn between her sense of reality and the unfolding events in the study below. She observed Sandra's interactions with the ethereal figures, her mind grappling with the question of their true nature. Were they mere figments of her imagination, ordinary humans, or something more extraordinary? A mix of skepticism and a glimmer of hope battled within her as she saw the ghostly figures, their movements casting eerie shadows on the walls. Sandra's ease of interaction with them amazed her.

A chill penetrated her bones, and icy tendrils of fear coiled around her heart as she sensed a presence on the staircase. The steps groaned beneath the unseen weight, and Madeline's head jerked toward the sound. Her breath misted in the frigid air as her eyes strained to see who was there.

She gasped, her heart skipping a beat, as the familiar scent of Noah's favorite cologne, a bittersweet memory, wafted toward her. Her voice caught in her throat, words failing her as she struggled to understand what was happening.

She whispered, "Noah?" She shivered, blinking to adjust her vision, but the figure remained. Stammering, she spoke, her voice barely audible. "Is this another nightmare? Am I imagining all of this?"

As if locked in a silent struggle, the ethereal figure advanced and retreated, its form flickering in and out of the darkness. With a final, deliberate step, it descended the stairs, materializing before Madeline's terrified gaze.

"Noah!" Madeline choked, her voice breaking with a mixture of disbelief and fear. Tears welled in her eyes as she stood, her legs trembling beneath her.

His fingers brushed the stray strands of hair away from her face, and he gently caressed her cheek. "Madeline, what happened to the woman I fell in love with?" he asked, his voice filled with longing, sadness, and a bit of reproach. "Is the treasure that important to you?"

Her lips quivered as she tried to speak, but the words would not form as she stared into the eyes of her deceased husband.

His facial features softened in the dim light as his hand dropped to his side. A flicker of warmth passed between their bodies before the chill returned. "Have you not learned anything? The mansion is a place of redemption or damnation. Choose wisely, my love."

Openly crying, Madeline's voice trembled with emotion, "You — still — love me? How is that — possible?"

Noah reached out his ghostly hand and touched her cheek. "Madeline, my heart was always yours. The treasure blinded you to my love."

Her eyes turned to focus on the scene below. "But everyone, including Lorrie and James, is consumed with finding the treasure. Isn't that why you are here?"

"I was. I was the catalyst for the search, not for my salvation, but theirs."

"I don't understand. Why would they need or want the treasure if they are truly ghosts and not part of my imagination? It can't possibly help them, can it?"

"They seek peace and forgiveness for their past wrongdoings. This is their purgatory. Their one chance to make amends or end in eternal damnation."

"Make amends? But how? The world would be turned inside out if ghosts began appearing everywhere."

Noah chuckled. "Heavenly bodies already mingle with the world, my love, but those in the mansion have not achieved that advantage. They require assistance, which was my position and possibly Sandra's, until my untimely death."

Madeline gasped and dropped her eyes toward the floor. She turned away, unable to face Noah's gaze. "I never meant to hurt you. Yes, I wanted the treasure, but I didn't know how far the sheriff would go to obtain the promise of wealth until it was too late."

"I know. You were blinded by the possibilities of a better tomorrow. I'm sorry my love wasn't enough for you."

Tears streamed down her face as she spun around to face Noah. "But it was! I wouldn't listen to my heart." She choked and shook her head, mumbling, "It's too late, but I am sorry."

Noah opened his arms and stretched them toward Madeline, offering her a safe haven and his forgiveness. Madeline's rigid posture slowly softened, letting the tension seep from her body. She leaned into Noah's ghostly frame and whispered his name, a silent plea for forgiveness and guidance, igniting a spark of hope amidst the dark despair.

******

"Look!" Victoria's voice was shrill as her slender hand pointed toward the staircase. "What's she doing here? Hasn't she caused enough trouble?" Her body glided swiftly across the room and up the stairs, carrying a frigid cold with her.

"And you —" Victoria sneered as she addressed Noah. "You are a bigger simpleton than I thought. This harlot cheated on you, causing your death and jeopardizing any of our chances to reach the hereafter."

The momentary warmth Madeline felt in Noah's arms evaporated as she quivered under Victoria's gaze, fearing another violent attack. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat tightened as if Victoria was gripping it.

"Victoria!" Lorrie's harsh voice stopped the woman from proceeding further. "Leave her alone. It's not your place anymore."

"My place!" Victoria waved her gloved hand toward Madeline's trembling figure. "She could never replace me as the mistress of this mansion. Society laughed behind her back as she made a fool of herself."

James had joined the calamity of bodies on the staircase. "It's not nor will it ever be your choice, Victoria. Your time has come and gone. Your only mission is to find redemption for you and your beloved judge. And since I make that final decision, it might be wise of you to mind your tongue and leave Madeline alone."

Victoria's hand snapped her silk fan in Madeline's direction before using it to cover her mouth as she whispered, "Until we meet again." Without another word, her stately figure vanished from the staircase, leaving Madeline shaking uncontrollably.

Without malice, Lorrie reached her hand out toward Madeline. "Come with me. I'll fix you a nice cup of tea to calm your nerves."

Madeline's eyes darted past the railing at everyone below. Her voice cracked, "Down — there?" She turned to look back upstairs, searching for Noah. "Where's —"

"Noah?" James gazed at the frightened woman, feeling a bit of compassion for her. "He didn't willingly desert you, but in the world of spirits, he's a newbie, and for now, he must respect those who came before him. He's not strong enough to take on a battle with Victoria. At least for now."

Lorrie piped up, "But I am and always will be. I won't let that woman harm you as long as it's what Noah desires." The portly housekeeper took Madeline's hand and smiled. "We might even become friends, deary, if you give all of us a chance."

Before Madeline could answer, she felt a slight tug on her arm and found herself standing in the kitchen. The room was filled with the aroma of freshly baked loaves of bread and pastries. Her eyes darted around the room and then at Lorrie.

Lorrie chuckled at the confusion spreading across Madeline's face and immediately felt a pang of regret. Maybe if she'd tried a bit harder, things would have been different from the start. Lorrie knew she'd not given the new mistress much of a decent welcome when she arrived at the mansion, wide-eyed and full of her step-up in the world. Having been Noah's right hand for many years, Lorrie hadn't given up her position gracefully.

Maybe this was her moment of redemption.

"Knowing your fear of the ones in the study, I took the shortcut. It's one of the bonuses of being a ghost. I can travel wherever I want to go in a flash." Lorrie placed a tea kettle on the stove and busied herself with the pastries. She nodded toward the back porch. "I believe a gentleman is waiting for you outside.

Still fearing the worst, Madeline frowned and glanced warily at the door. "Waiting for me?"

"There's nothing to fear, deary. Noah has asked me to serve you tea while the two of you chat." Lorrie grinned. "The way I see it, he'd like to resume the conversation you shared on the stairs before Victoria barged onto the scene."

Madeline's hand flew to her hair and then to her disheveled clothing. "But I —"

A loud chuckle burst from Lorrie's mouth, and her body shook with amusement. "He sees you through the eyes of love. You will always look beautiful and perfect to him. Now go! Even ghosts can get tired of waiting."

 

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s


Chapter 15
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 15

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 14

"Knowing your fear of the ones in the study, I took the shortcut. It's one bonus of being a ghost. I can travel wherever I want to go in a flash." Lorrie placed a teakettle on the stove and busied herself with the pastries. She nodded toward the back porch. "I believe a gentleman is waiting for you outside.

Still fearing the worst, Madeline frowned and glanced warily at the door. "Waiting for me?"

"There's nothing to fear, deary. Noah has asked me to serve you tea while the two of you chat." Lorrie grinned. "The way I see it, he'd like to resume the conversation you shared on the stairs before Victoria barged onto the scene."

Madeline's hand flew to her hair and then to her disheveled clothing. "But I —"

A loud chuckle burst from Lorrie's mouth, and her body shook with amusement. "He sees you through the eyes of love. You will always look beautiful and perfect to him. Now go! Even ghosts can tire of waiting."

*****

CHAPTER 15

"Damn you, William!" As Victoria's anger flared, the air in the room grew colder, and tendrils of icy droplets swirled around her ghostly form. Her voice echoed against the darkened walls, each word carrying the weight of centuries-old grudges. She'd been shunned as the mansion's mistress, and now, the forgiveness of Madeline's deceptions gnawed at her. She stopped brushing her hair and flung the silver hairbrush against the wall, the impact shattering the mirror into countless shards.

She strode across the room, the hem of her dress snagging on a protruding nail, as she leveled a fierce gaze at William. "How can you just sit there and let this happen?"

William's response was a chuckle, crackling like the rustle of parched pages, though it only served to incense Victoria further. He stroked his long white beard before speaking. "Too bad you can't bottle that hot air. It wouldn't cost so much to heat this monstrosity of a house."

A gust of wind swirled through the room, entering through the cracks in the walls. The candle flames flickered wildly, casting dancing shadows around the room, and a faint scent of roses lingered in the air. Victoria refused to cower before William, though she knew he was much more powerful than she was.

"How dare you speak to me that way after all I have tried to do for you?"

Her boot sailed past his head, followed by the other, which struck the side of his head. Her eyes widened as her glow faded, almost disappearing into the darkness, knowing she'd gone too far.

William's hand grabbed her arm, and his eyes glowed, much like the embers in the fireplace. His look was menacing, and his voice stern. "Your tantrum is unbecoming of a woman in your station. Would you prefer to join the ones grumbling deep below in the cellar? I'm positive any of those poor souls would be happy to trade places."

"You wouldn't!" Victoria challenged, but her scowl quickly turned to a seductive smile, and she batted her lashes at him. "Sweet William, you know how wicked Madeline has been. She never deserved to be with that simpleton, Noah, and now that he is dead, she deserves even less." She knelt beside him, softly running her hand along his arm. "I have no idea why he brought a woman from a bordello into the mansion. When I was the mistress, things were different. I knew how to provide a proper place for you and your associates. The women rushed to be seated at our dinner table or attend one of our lavish parties."

William's figure shifted from the overstuffed chair to the window, where he stared outside, lost in thought. "My love, have you forgotten how the women turned away whenever you approached them? After all, you were my mistress; nothing better than Madeline was to Noah."

Victoria clutched her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes as if tears were forming in their hollow sockets. She turned her back to William, her voice barely audible. "I'm mortified by your tone, William." She paused and added, "You know she wants the treasure and doesn't care what it means to you and everyone else in this mansion. Forgive me, but I'm just thinking about you, my love."

Victoria could sense the drop in temperature as William spoke. "Leave the treasure to my grandson and his friends. They will do what is necessary to free all of us. Interfering or threatening Madeline will do no good. Let her be Noah's concern, not yours."

"I will not be silenced and will not allow Madeline to claim what is rightfully ours." Her scowl shifted to a smile, but it was a facade. "William, we must take action to remove her before it is too late. This is your last chance for redemption, and I so want that for you."

As Victoria and William quarreled, their voices reverberated through the vast halls of the mansion, awakening the spirits of the past. The portrait of the previous owner, a stern-looking man with a handlebar mustache, appeared to disapprove of their behavior from his place above the grand fireplace. Several figures dressed in tattered rags gathered outside the door, their translucent forms shimmering in anticipation, as they found enjoyment as the couple challenged each other. Exchanging eerie smiles and murmuring, they began weaving their plan, one that might gain them the treasures yet repay Victoria for all the snobbery she'd delivered on them.

*****

Madeline's heart fluttered like a butterfly as she stepped onto the porch. Her anticipation of Noah's arrival turned her cheeks a rosy hue. But her hope was swiftly extinguished as she discovered she was standing alone. She whispered, "Noah," expecting his response, only to be greeted with an eerie silence.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she made her way to the railing, her gaze fixed on the sky, questioning why the radiant sun failed to thaw the icy grip on her body.

"Your sorrow is a delight to my ears, deary." Victoria's ethereal form seemed to flicker in the sunlight, casting a spectral glow around her. Her once-beautiful features twisted into a cruel smirk, her eyes like shards of ice piercing through the air with an evil glimmer. The delicate lace of her Victorian gown billowed around her, but there was nothing graceful about her movements; each step she took on the porch seemed to echo with a haunting resonance, a heavy, dreadful sound. The surrounding air seemed to thicken with a chilling presence as if the mansion was holding its breath. Her voice grated on Madeline's spine like fingernails scratching on the chalkboard.

"Not by choice, but Noah had more pressing matters to attend to, my dear." Victoria's smile was a twisted mockery devoid of warmth. Her hand shot out, seizing Madeline's wrist in a painful grip. "You should heed what I say, or I promise you'll regret it. The treasure will never be yours, nor will Noah. If you value your mortal existence, flee this mansion. Otherwise, the next time we cross paths, I might forget my ladylike manners, which is more than I can say for you, and —" Victoria's breath, a chilling mist, touched her prey, "Well, let's just say —" Her grin a chilling promise as she concluded, "There are fates far worse than death, my dear."

Madeline's eyes widened in terror, her scream piercing the serene afternoon. She yanked her arm from Victoria's grip, the ghost's long fingernails leaving angry red marks on her skin as she stumbled and collapsed onto the creaking floorboards.

Lorrie's urgent voice cut through the air from within the house. "Madeline, what's wrong?" She appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowing as she caught a glimpse of Victoria's retreating figure. "Victoria, you have not chosen your fight wisely," she muttered as she knelt beside Madeline, her voice low but filled with a steely resolve. "Behind this kindly face lurks a warrior's heart."

Victoria glanced back, a fleeting expression of irritation crossing her ethereal features before she vanished into the shadows, leaving a chill lingering in the air long after she was gone.
 
Sandra, James, and Tim rushed onto the porch. Sandra joined Lorrie's side as she tended to Madeline. James recognized the lingering scent of Victoria's cologne and muttered, "That woman, ghost or not, is determined to cause problems."
 
Lorrie raised her head to look at James. "She's declared war, James, and it will not be a pretty sight."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s


Chapter 16
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 16

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 15

Her hand shot out, seizing Madeline's wrist in a painful grip. "You should heed what I say, or I promise you'll regret it. The treasure will never be yours, nor will Noah. If you value your mortal existence, flee this mansion. Otherwise, the next time we cross paths, I might forget my ladylike manners, which is more than I can say for you."  Victoria's breath, a chilling mist, touched her prey. "Well, let's just say —" Her grin a chilling promise as she concluded, "There are fates far worse than death, my dear."

Madeline's eyes widened in terror, her scream piercing the serene afternoon. She yanked her arm from Victoria's grip, the ghost's long fingernails leaving angry red marks on her skin as she stumbled and collapsed onto the creaking floorboards.

Lorrie's urgent voice cut through the air from within the house. "Madeline, what's wrong?" She appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowing as she caught a glimpse of Victoria's retreating figure. "Victoria, you have not chosen your fight wisely," she muttered as she knelt beside Madeline, her voice low but filled with a steely resolve. "Behind this kindly face lurks a warrior's heart."

Victoria glanced back, a fleeting expression of irritation crossing her ethereal features before she vanished into the shadows, leaving a chill lingering in the air long after she was gone.

Sandra, James, and Tim rushed onto the porch. Sandra joined Lorrie's side as she tended to Madeline. James recognized the lingering scent of Victoria's cologne and muttered, "That woman, ghost or not, is determined to cause problems."

Lorrie raised her head to look at James. "She's declared war, James, and it will not be a pretty sight."
******
CHAPTER 16

While Lorrie attended to Madeline's wounds and helped her inside, the others returned to the study. Having regained her composure, Madeline was upset.

"Did you know that woman was waiting for me?" Madeline probed as she delicately sipped her tea, her voice laced with anger.

"Oh dear, no! Noah had asked to see you. I never would have placed you in that situation." Lorrie busied herself with the bread dough rising on the counter. She brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, sending a fine flour spray into the air.

"Why does she despise me? I've never seen her around the mansion. This is all so confusing," Madeline voiced, her brows furrowing. "Is it because of Noah?"

Lorrie chuckled, her eyes glinting with a hint of anger. "Noah? The woman would scratch your eyes out if she wanted him, but I assure you she doesn't." The housekeeper seemed lost momentarily, staring blankly across the room before she continued, "It wasn't to Victoria's advantage to allow you to see her until today. That woman believes she rightfully holds the position of the mansion's mistress, and she wants nothing more than to drive you from the house. Especially since she knows you want to find the treasure, too."

"The mistress of this mansion!" Madeline's hand flew to her mouth, and she turned away from Lorrie before asking, "Oh heavens, was she Noah's wife?"

"Oh dear me, no!" Lorrie poured herself a cup of tea and joined the distraught woman at the table. "Madeline, you seem to accept the spirit of Noah as being possible, but you've decided everyone else is a figment of your nightmares."

"Weren't they? As I sit here with you, I even doubt Noah was anything more than a wishful dream," Madeline confessed, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "The idea of ghosts, spirits lingering in this world, it's just — unbelievable."

Lorrie heaved a heavy sigh and twisted her apron several times, her heart aching for Madeline's struggle to accept the truth. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and reached for Madeline's hand. "I'm well aware that you consider the existence of ghosts to be sheer nonsense, but you are wrong."

Madeline was quick to continue her skepticism, "Lorrie, you've lived in the mansion for years. I can't imagine you'd have stayed if the place was haunted."

"Tsk-tsk —" Lorrie muttered, shaking her head as she stared at Madeline. The woman hadn't been on her list of favorite people, but it was her duty to keep her from harm, if possible. "Changing your way of thinking, dear, is essential for your own well-being. Look at your arm and tell me those fingernail scratches aren't real."

Madeline glanced at her arm and shivered as she felt her entire body turn cold. "You want me to believe the vindictive woman is a ghost?"

"That's exactly what I want you to believe, Madeline. And you appear to be a threat to her. She will stop at nothing to get what she wants."

Madeline gasped. "I was married to Noah and had every right to be here. Why is the treasure so important to her if she's dead?"

"She has her reasons, and now you have given her another one. She considers herself at the top of the hierarchy in this mansion. You are a threat to her." Lorrie sighed. "There's a flaw in her thinking, of course, but that won't help you. Forget the treasure, Madeline, if you value your life."

Madeline mumbled, "Maybe you are right, Lorrie." Her eyes dropped from Lorrie's gaze, but something needled at her as she sipped her tea.

Lorrie's keen eyes watched Madeline, sensing the turmoil brewing in her. Was it because of Noah, or had Victoria tossed her a gauntlet she couldn't turn away from?

Across the table, Madeline silently questioned herself. Ghost or not, I'll not let that woman drive me from this mansion. Finding the treasure might be the perfect payback. It belongs to Noah, not her.

She lifted her eyes toward Lorrie and smiled. "Of course, you know best. If it's okay, I'll stay another day or two to rest and then leave the mansion." The words no sooner crossed her lips than an unexpected icy finger strummed her spine, reminding her of the danger.

*****

Sandra settled into one of the study's plush armchairs, her legs tucked underneath her. Her eyes scanned each man in the room, studying them carefully. As an investigative reporter, she understood the importance of knowing the people, or in this case, ghosts that surrounded her. She recalled meeting Ryan, Benny, and the Judge at Noah's funeral. They had appeared friendly and relaxed then, but now she sensed an underlying tension and unease among them. The recent events and Tim's arrival had transformed the atmosphere from cordial to suspicious.

James pulled a chair beside Sandra and gestured for everyone to gather closer. "Sandra, I intended to have this conversation with you much earlier before you became embroiled in things you couldn't possibly understand."

The other men nodded, and Sandra smiled nervously. "Weeks ago, I would have laughed if someone said the mansion was haunted. But now, I must admit, regardless of what I thought, I know it's true."

James touched her arm, trying to assure her before he continued, "You won't be alone, I promise you. We will always be nearby unless you must leave the mansion. If that happens, only Lorrie, I, and Madeline, of course, can leave the property, which includes the cemetery." James looked at the men and added, "I think each of them should briefly summarize why you're here and what's keeping you in limbo. Let's start with you, Judge."
 
The Judge nodded to James, took a deep breath, and exhaled. "We met at the cemetery, and I introduced myself as Judge William Parker. I'm sure finding the book in my office must have raised a lot of questions in your mind, including the possibility that I have a criminal history. But the truth is, the book belonged to my grandfather, the first Judge William Parker."

Sandra breathed a sigh of relief. "So, you aren't that man." She dropped her eyes toward her lap and murmured, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
 
The men chuckled and exchanged knowing glances. James shared their reactions and then spoke to Sandra, "Excluding Billy and myself, everyone is here because their history wasn't without blemishes." He nodded toward the Judge. "Please, continue."

"My grandfather led a very colorful life but tried to make amends before passing. He began hiding his ill-gotten gains within the walls of this mansion, intending to somehow return them without exposing his fellow cohorts. Before he could, he was murdered."

"Murdered?" Sandra stared at the men, once again wondering if she belonged in this atmosphere. Losing Peppy, a blue parakeet, to Killer, the neighbor's cat, had been too traumatic before now.

Billy nodded. "In the criminal world, grudges don't disappear easily. Each generation searched for the book, hoping to find it and the treasure. I met a similar fate when the wrong people discovered I knew about the book. I refused to give it up and paid the price."

Sandra frowned. "But why come here? What do you hope to achieve?"

"Unlike most, I hesitated to enter the gates of the hereafter. Instead, I pleaded for the chance to redeem my grandfather. My intentions were noble, but my abilities were limited in limbo. I'm here, seeking his redemption by uncovering the hidden treasure with your help."

"Every person who exists in purgatory passes through the mansion. The undesirables live deep in the bowels of the cellar, awaiting their final destination: the fiery pit of damnation. The ones given a chance at redemption wait within the confines of the mansion or roam the cemetery at night until the prayers of someone in their past are answered. Hopefully, a wrong is repaid. Then James must write the ending of each person's story, give it to the panel, and a final decision is made. I hope to discover where the treasure is hidden and, with your help, return it to the rightful owners."

"Why doesn't your grandfather just tell you where it is?" Sandra prodded, hoping for more information.

"The bullet that killed him went through his head, shattering most of his memory. The book was our only hope."

Sandra's eyes widened, and she gasped. "Oh, I lost the book! Have I doomed all of you?" Her entire body trembled as she imagined the worst.

James clasped Sandra's hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "Don't get upset. Victoria said you had the key, but no one can get to the treasure without it. There is still hope that we can uncover it. You have it, right?"

"The key?" Sandra shifted her hand from James's grip and patted her pocket. "I remember I took it from the book, but —"

"Think, Sandra. What did you do with the key?"

Deep in thought, Sandra struggled to push past all the latest events. She rubbed her temples, trying to remember. Suddenly, she blurted, "The jewelry box. I put it in the jewelry box before following Victoria."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s


Chapter 17
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 17

By Begin Again

THE END OF CHAPTER 16 

"Why doesn't your grandfather just tell you where it is?" Sandra prodded Billy for more information.

"The bullet that killed him went through his head, shattering most of his memory. The book was our only hope."

Sandra's eyes widened, and she gasped. "Oh, I lost the book! Have I doomed all of you?" Her entire body trembled as she imagined the worst.

James clasped Sandra's hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "Don't get upset. Victoria said you had the key, but no one can get to the treasure without it. There is still hope that we can uncover it. You have it, right?"

"The key?" Sandra shifted her hand from James's grip and patted her pocket. "I remember I took it from the book, but — 

"Think, Sandra. What did you do with the key?"

Deep in thought, Sandra struggled to push past all the latest events. She rubbed her temples, trying to remember. Suddenly, she blurted, "The jewelry box. I put it in the jewelry box before following Victoria."

******

CHAPTER 17

In her excitement about the key, Sandra pushed herself out of the overstuffed chair. The study was dimly lit, and she lost her balance, tumbling against James. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as James caught her and waited until she was steady on her feet.

"Sandra, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. I wanted to retrieve the key and give it to you." Sandra bit her lip, unable to hide her nervousness. 

"You said the key is in your jewelry box. It's safe for now. I think we should finish our conversation. It's been put off for far too long." James tried to soothe her, holding onto her hand. 

"But —" Sandra's gaze shifted to the staircase and then back to the men, her mind imagining the key missing, too.

"All we've discussed is the treasure, but each man has a story and hopes to find redemption. They've all seen their past lives entwined with the Judge and have put their chances of eternal life into the same basket."

Ryan chimed in, "One for all. We've become friends, and we either solve this together or find ourselves burning in hell." 

"Sit down, Sandra—please. It will only take a few more minutes to share their stories, and then I'll go with you to get the key." James gestured towards the chair, hoping Sandra would give the others a few more minutes. 

Losing the book weighed heavily on Sandra's mind. If the key was their only hope, she wanted to keep it safe. Her eyes traveled to the men and then to the staircase. "Couldn't this wait?" 

"It could, but I think it's been long enough. Please give the men a few more minutes."

Sandra nodded reluctantly and lowered herself into the chair, her hands fidgeting with the doily on the armrest. 

James seized the chance and began, "Take Tim. He was caught up in a crime and didn't realize it until it was too late. He couldn't get back to his family to explain." James paused and turned to Tim. "Would you like to continue with your story?" 

Tim's piercing blue eyes locked on Sandra, and he quickly turned to James. "Let Ryan and Benny tell their stories first. Sandra is worried about the key, so why don't I go upstairs to get it? She can listen to them, and I can tell my story later." 

Before anyone could protest, he abruptly pushed his chair back, stood, and headed toward the stairs, leaving each staring at his back. Tension filled the air as they all exchanged worried glances. The men knew Tim's story and wondered why he hesitated to tell Sandra. 

*****

"What are you doing?" an angry male voice snarled. 

Startled, the woman spun around to face the intruder, her heart pounding. Her dark eyes widened with a mixture of fear and recognition as she saw the shadowy figure in front of her. His ghostly presence chilled the room. She tilted her head, a feeble attempt to mask her unease. "How dare you speak to me in that tone?" 

The male figure advanced, his movements slow and deliberate, a looming threat. Feeling her heart race, the woman instinctively retreated, her hands trembling as she reached to steady herself against the dresser. She couldn't help but glance nervously at the jewelry box. William Parker's unexpected intrusion had shattered her sense of security, leaving her momentarily vulnerable to him.

Recovering, she offered a lie. "I lost an earring. I thought Sandra might have found it and placed it in the jewelry box. Noah gave it to me as a wedding present. I'd hate to lose it." 

Without warning, the Judge grabbed her arm and twisted it, making her wince in pain. Her scream echoed through the walls. "Stop! You're hurting me. I don't know who you are, but this is my house, and I can come and go as I please."

"Dressed like the mortal?" William laughed and then sneered, his eyes glowing like fiery embers. "I must admit you have been able to look exactly like the woman, but you can never fool me, Victoria." 

Immediately, Victoria's disguise faded, taking her confidence with it. She stood there, vulnerable and trembling, as William loomed over her. She mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I — I was thinking of you, of us." She rubbed her wrist and offered a pout. "You didn't have to hurt me." 

William yanked her into his arms, his eyes dark and threatening. His relentless touch sent shivers down her spine, a stark reminder of his power. "Your independence drew me to you like a moth to fire, but you've gone too far. I'd be devastated if I lost you."

Sensing William's softness, Victoria seized the moment. "Let go of me, William. What's wrong with you?"

"With me? You've assumed the appearance of a mortal so that you can rummage through the other woman's personal effects." He released her, but his eyes blazed with anger. "Why would you jeopardize our only chance? Is your vanity that important to you? Or do you desire the treasure for another reason?" 

The air in the room crackled as the couple faced off. Victoria knew she had to tread carefully, knowing how ruthless William could be. "Of course not, William. I only care about finding the treasure to redeem your soul." 

"What — at the cost of losing yours? I warned you, Victoria. Leave this nonsense before you regret it." An icy mist spewed from his lips as he spat out his wrath.

"I will, William." She reached out to him and brushed his lips with her own, hoping to calm his rage. "I promise." She turned as a trace of a smile touched her mouth, and she reached for the jewelry box. 

"If you are looking for —" William taunted as Victoria's eyes flared. 

"The key?" Victoria gasped when she saw it in his fingers. She tried to snatch it from his hand, but William reacted faster. 

"I told you to leave it to Billy. You are in dangerous territory, my dear. My love for you can't protect you from what might happen if you continue to pursue your vendetta."

"Vendetta?" Victoria's shrill voice penetrated the walls, stopping Madeline in the hallway as she passed Sandra's room. "Don't talk such foolishness, Judge. The mortals, especially that Madeline woman, aren't worth my time." 

Madeline pressed closer to the door, wondering about the angry voices from Sandra's room. She listened intently; her curiosity piqued. Her heart quickened, and a coldness covered her body as she realized the voices were discussing her. She turned to leave, but the voices drew her back.

"Is that why you are trying to set her up to take the blame because she's not a challenge to you? I know you too well, woman." William's laugh was chilling — an eerie threat. "You always have a way of clouding my judgment, Victoria, but not this time." 

Madeline gasped as her blood ran cold. She recognized Victoria's evil tone, but who was the man? It didn't sound like James. And why were they in Sandra's room? Was Victoria trying to set her up for something? Her mind rushed back to Lorrie's warning. Afraid, she moved away from the door and hurried toward her room. 

Meanwhile, Tim stood unseen on the stair landing, observing Madeline. As she hurried down the hallway, he slipped through the walls, sensing someone had recently been in the room. The jewelry box remained open, but the key was gone.

******

Unaware of the events unfolding upstairs, Detective Ryan Hamilton stared at his shoes, unable to look directly at Sandra. His voice was low and uncertain. "I'm not sure I even belong in this circle, ma'am." 

James interrupted Ryan, "Stop it, man. We've had this discussion time and time again." He directed his following sentence toward Sandra, "Ryan feels responsible for Noah's death." 

"I'm a Detective, James. I was in this house. We shared a drink and got into a heated argument. We don't know what happened." 

"Can I ask what the argument was about?" Sandra wasn't sure what was expected of her, but she could only get answers if she asked the questions.

Ryan shrugged. "Madeline, of course. I'd seen her in town with the sheriff. Noah was my friend, and I was angry that he couldn't see how she was using him." 

"You didn't get physical with each other, did you?" 

"No. Noah offered me a drink before I left. I might have taken a sip, but I know I didn't drink all of it. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my car, parked outside the mansion. I don't remember anything." 

"Nothing?" Sandra quizzed. "What did you see when you woke up?"

Ryan took a deep breath before answering, "I had blood all over my hands and clothes."

"Did you report seeing the silver car?" Sandra was sure the car could be a vital clue.

"I was going to, but I went home to clean up. On my way into town, I saw the car with the broken light and pulled the driver over. I called in the plates and found out the car was stolen." Ryan looked away, pausing for a minute. "This is where things get fuzzy. I approached the car, my gun drawn. The driver lowered his window. I saw the muzzle of his gun and felt a burning explosion in my chest. As I fell to the ground, taking my last breath, I swore I saw his face." 

"Whose face? Was it someone you knew, Ryan?"

"I don't know if my brain was playing tricks, but I thought it was the sheriff." 

James and Benny spoke in unison, "Ryan didn't kill Noah. Someone framed him." 

Sandra nodded. "That makes sense. Don't you see, if it was the sheriff or Madeline who killed Noah, you were the only one left alive to prove it?"

"But why did I pass out? And where did the blood come from?" 

James was quick to jump in, "There was no blood when Lorrie and I found Noah, so it wasn't from him." 

"That's good to know." Sandra mulled over Ryan's story, shifting mentally through the information he'd provided. "Ryan, you said you had a drink with Noah." 

"Well, he gave me one, but I think I only took a small sip. I was uncomfortable because Madeline joined us. I left, and everything was blank until I woke up in the car." 

"That's it, Ryan. We believe Noah was drugged, and the pills caused his death. If they were in the liquor, you only drank enough to make you unconscious. Someone poured blood on you while you were knocked out. Most likely, the same someone who was driving the car and shot you." 

Ryan jumped out of his chair. "The sheriff?" 

Before anyone could answer, Tim ran down the stairs, shouting, "The key is gone." 

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s


Chapter 18
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 18

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 17
James was quick to jump in, "There was no blood when Lorrie and I found Noah, so it wasn't from him."

"That's good to know." Sandra mulled over Ryan's story, shifting mentally through the information he'd provided. "Ryan, you said you had a drink with Noah."

"Well, he gave me one, but I think I only took a small sip. I was uncomfortable because Madeline joined us. I left, and everything was blank until I woke up in the car."

"That's it, Ryan. We believe Noah was drugged, and the pills caused his death. If they were in the liquor, you only drank enough to make you unconscious. Someone poured blood on you while you were knocked out. Most likely, the same someone who was driving the car and shot you."

Ryan jumped out of his chair. "The sheriff?"

Before anyone could answer, Tim ran down the stairs, shouting, "The key is gone."
 
*****
 
CHAPTER 18
 
Madeline had returned to the kitchen to talk to Lorrie about what happened upstairs, but before she could say anything, Benny and Ryan joined them, both fired up about the missing key. As soon as they saw Madeline, Benny's accusations began. 

"You were responsible for Noah's death. You're an evil woman, and this time —" 
 
Lorrie, caught off guard, tried to ease the situation. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the two men before speaking, "Benny, control yourself. Tell me what's happened?"

"James or Noah should have run her off the property long ago." He sneered at Madeline. "She doesn't care about anyone but herself." Benny charged towards her, his hands wrapping around her thin neck.

Madeline choked as she tried to scream. Lorrie and Ryan tugged Benny away, breaking his grip. Ryan pushed him against the cabinets, putting space between them, yelling for Benny to stop. 

Lorrie positioned herself in front of Madeline, protecting her from another attack. She snapped, "Benny, what's wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?" 

Benny pointed his trembling finger at Madeline and snarled, "She stole the key from Sandra's room so she could get the treasure. That's all she ever wanted. She doesn't care about what happens to any of us." 

Lorrie turned to Madeline, trying to remain calm, but her eyes widened as she fully understood Benny's accusations. "Madeline, did you do what he said? Did you take the key?" 

"No!" Madeline's voice cracked with desperation as she stepped backward, putting a few feet between her and Benny. Her body shook violently as her mind raced, trying to comprehend why they thought she'd stolen the key. Turning her pleading eyes to Lorrie, she said, "That's what I came to tell you, but before I could say anything, they started accusing me." 

"You're a liar! All you've ever done since you got here is lie. You expect everyone to believe you." Benny lunged at her again, but Ryan held him back. 

Sobbing, Madeline struggled to talk. "I admit I was wrong in the beginning, but I really tried to change." Swatting away her tears, she wailed, "What difference does it make? None of you care about me." She turned and ran through the back door, stumbling off the porch. She ran blindly into the rose garden until she collapsed on the ground, her body heaving uncontrollably. 

"Noah, please, I didn't do this. Wherever you are, if you can hear me—" she gasped for air, begging, "Please — believe me. I've made mistakes in the past, but I didn't do this." 

A female figure stood in the shadows near the carriage house, watching Madeline. Her body quivered in a moment of self-sorrow as she recognized how deep Madeline's grief and frustration ran. Having lived in the mansion for countless years, she knew the woman's pain matched her own — lost love, mistakes, and unfair accusations. Yet, through trial and error, she had also learned the ins and outs of survival and rarely showed compassion for those around her, especially female spirits who considered themselves far above the others — women like Victoria.  

The woman moved closer to Madeline's distraught figure, battling within herself whether or not to speak to her. If nothing else, her years confined to the mansion had taught her to calculate the risks and benefits of communicating with one of the mortals, but Madeline's tears stirred emotions she'd blocked long ago. 

As she skirted the rose bushes, a thorny branch snagged her beaded gown, once elegant but now faded with time. She tugged to loosen it, knocking a sprinkling can and some garden tools over, making a noisy racket. 

Madeline jerked her head toward the sound, fearful of who might be lurking nearby. Praying, she asked, "Is that you, Noah?" When no one answered, she stood, brushing off the dirt and grass from her slacks, letting her eyes scan the bushes. "Noah, if it's you, please come out and talk to me." 

The woman hesitated, then made the decision to approach Madeline. She walked around the bushes into full view. Her eyes, deep pools of sadness, assessed Madeline now that she, too, was in full view. Madeline's eyes widened, afraid of who or what was going to confront her now. She wondered if she had time to return to the confines of the house. 

The woman extended her ethereal hand toward Madeline, who instinctively moved a step further away. The woman's voice was soft and soothing. "Don't be frightened. I mean you no harm. I heard you crying." She looked around the garden, checking to see if they were alone. Satisfied, she continued, "My name is Esther. I live deep within the mansion." 

Madeline gasped, "Not with those dreadful creatures?" 

Esther laughed, a sweet melodic sound that seemed to drift on the breeze, almost like a whispered secret shared between friends. "Not that far down, at least not yet." She brushed a wisp of her gray hair away from her face and her eyes filled with sadness. "Only time will tell." She gestured toward a bench near the carriage house. "Come. Let's sit for a few minutes. Perhaps together we can find solace and answers to your problems." 

"Impossible!" Madeline snapped but quickly bit her lower lip. "I'm sorry. It's difficult to believe that love or even friendship could exist in this place. The beautiful exterior is so deceiving and it draws you deep into the heart of the home, only to find pain and accusations. Trust me, there's no kindness within the mansion's walls." 

Esther touched Madeline's arm, sending a shiver through her own body. She'd not felt such compassion for anyone in a very long time. She withdrew her hand, warning herself to be careful of her actions with this mortal.  

"I've heard your name around the mansion. You were married to Noah. You're Madeline, right?" 

At the mention of Noah's name, tears welled in Madeline's eyes. She turned away, staring off into the distance, fighting against the overwhelming grief washing over her. Finally, she managed a simple nod and whispered, "I failed him." 

"I can feel your pain. Your tears mirror the anguish of my own heart. I, too, have known the sting of lost love and the ache of false accusations."
 
Madeline turned to Esther, suddenly relieved that she might have found an understanding friend, totally unaware that Esther had motives of her own. "Do you know about —" 

Lorrie's voice yelled from the back porch, "Madeline, where are you? Come and have some tea. We'll work things out." 

Esther stood, her eyes darting toward the mansion. "I need to go. Let's have this as our little secret, okay?" Esther moved toward the carriage house, stopping one more time to reach out to Madeline. "It's going to be okay. I promise to help you, but you must not tell anyone." With that, Esther disappeared. 

Entering the rose garden, Lorrie stopped, scanned the area, and then rushed to Madeline's side. "You poor girl, Benny should never have treated you so badly. Are you okay?" 

Madeline nodded, thinking about Esther and if she should tell Lorrie. She'd been so kind to her, something Madeline didn't feel most of the time. Lorrie stood, still looking around the garden and toward the carriage house.  

"Strange, the roses have a different scent tonight, almost a musky aroma." Spying a lace handkerchief under the bench, Lorrie asked, "Were you in the garden alone?" 

Madeline turned her teary eyes toward the housekeeper, remembering Esther's request, and answered, "Of course, I was alone. There's no one here but you and me." 

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers


Chapter 19
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 19

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 18

Madeline turned to Esther, suddenly relieved that she might have found an understanding friend, unaware that Esther had her own motives. "Do you know about —"

Lorrie's voice yelled from the back porch, "Madeline, where are you? Come and have some tea. We'll work things out."

Esther stood, her eyes darting toward the mansion. "I need to go. Let's have this as our little secret, okay?" Esther moved toward the carriage house, stopping again to reach out to Madeline. "It's going to be okay. I promise to help you." With that, Esther disappeared.

Entering the rose garden, Lorrie stopped, scanned the area, and rushed to Madeline's side. "You poor girl, Benny should never have treated you so badly. Are you okay?"

Madeline nodded, thinking about Esther and if she should tell Lorrie. She'd been so kind to her, something Madeline didn't feel most of the time. Lorrie stood, still looking around the garden and toward the carriage house.

"Strange, the roses have a different scent tonight, almost a musky aroma." Spying a lace handkerchief under the bench, Lorrie asked, "Were you in the garden alone?"

Madeline turned her teary eyes toward the housekeeper, remembering Esther's request, and answered, "Of course, I was alone."



*****
CHAPTER 19

Flickering candles created a romantic mood in the study. William sought comfort and relaxation on the loveseat near the glowing fire. His pensive mood replayed his earlier heated argument with Victoria, creating a battle between inner romance and tension. The exterior walls crackled like electricity, sparking against the icy chill omitted from murmuring voices lurking behind the walls.

A sense of foreboding for the future nagged at him. His energy was depleted from the confrontation. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the strain that weighed on him. Interacting within the mortals' world had consequences, something he had failed to remember.

Still, he smiled as he felt her warmth before she glided into the room, her beauty and presence commanding attention. Her body seemed to glow, not a harsh light, but a soft, inviting one. She'd changed from her everyday attire into a dress that highlighted her curves. The sparkling glint in her eye was provocative. Without a word, she approached William; her movements were a calculated dance. She meant to entice him and remind him of their love.

"William, darling," she purred, her voice laced with seduction. "Let's not fuss about our little disagreement, shall we? We have more pleasant matters to attend to." She smiled and bent to kiss him.

Her touch was soft yet persuasive as she caressed his arm, her gaze filled with promise. William felt a tug at his heart, a familiar longing stirred by Victoria's charms. Memories, flashes of their youth, heightened his emotions. There was a time when he wanted nothing more than to lie in her arms, ravishing her body and dreaming of their future.

Her tempting suggestion hung in the air, drawing William towards her and weakening his resolve. He struggled to push aside the lingering thoughts of their argument, the weight of his exhaustion battling against Victoria's persuasive tactics. He'd always been powerless to her charms, and tonight was no exception.

She poured two glasses of champagne and set them on the side table before nestling her slender body close to his, knowing her favorite cologne would tease his senses. "Relax, my love, you know you can't resist me." She pressed her body closer, teasing him with the possibilities.

"You have always known the secrets of controlling my heartstrings, my love." William gazed into her eyes, choosing his words wisely. "I've not had any complaints in that department."

William trailed his finger across her breast, torn between his desires and the problem at hand. Victoria smiled, assuming she had the upper hand, but his next words chilled her as if he'd tossed ice water in her face. Sighing, he spoke, "Our current situation and future hang in the balance. We can't jeopardize our freedom."

Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at William, silently daring him to continue. Part of her knew he was right, but a more significant part of her wanted more. The mansion had been their sanctuary but also their prison.

She sipped her champagne, letting the bubbles tickle her mouth, as she sized up William. He was different tonight, not succumbing to her ways.

Replacing her glass on the table, her fingers brushed against his hand. He flinched but didn't pull away. His reaction pushed her to say more. "Do you call this freedom? We might not live in chains, but we're confined inside these walls." She changed her tone to a pouty, pleading one. "What happened to caring about us and the life we once shared?"

He sighed, weary of this battle. His eyes flickered around the room as if searching for an answer. "We can have everything, Victoria, but not by coveting the stolen treasure for ourselves."

Victoria scoffed, feeling a burning anger welling up inside her. "How dare you accuse me after all these years! You were the criminal, William." The idea of romancing William to get her way vanished as she spat the final words, "Your crimes sealed our fate."

Anger flashed in William's eyes as he struggled to soften his tone. "That was a different life, Victoria. This mansion, these endless corridors, are not our home. The treasure can be salvation for most souls dwelling within this home. Greed can't achieve that."

Her voice trembled with a mix of longing and defiance. "Greed? You are the one being selfish. Giving the treasure away gives everyone redemption, but where does that leave us? A life where we are penniless and commonplace. Shall we beg for scraps?"

His eyes soften, reflecting on his vision of the future, an eternal life in the hereafter, a place filled with unimaginable beauty and love. "Wealth and power have no place in eternity. We will be free of our past sins. Isn't that what we have dreamt of?"

Victoria stood and walked away with her back to William. She laughed, unable to hide her bitterness. "Dreamt of? We aren't dreamers, William." Her voice rose, and she snarled, "We are survivors. We fight for what we want, and we get it."

William's eyes filled with sadness as he recognized Victoria's change. He feared their love was lost. "We can be more than survivors, Victoria. The returning of the treasure will bring us redemption."

Her gaze hardened as she stared at William. "Redemption! Do you honestly believe that it will fill the void? One must have power to do that."

"Victoria, my love, listen to yourself. You've changed from the woman I loved into what I once was. Let it go before it consumes you."

"Let it consume me!" Her eyes flashed with determination. "I want what's rightfully mine, even if I must fight you for it."

Surprised, William stood and walked toward Victoria, his arms outstretched. She backed away, and he let his arms fall to his side. His voice quivered, fearing what Victoria wanted. "Claiming the treasure will seal our fate forever."

Her laughter was cold, devoid of remorse. "Fate? I have made my own fate my entire life. I saw how Esther loved you, but she had no desire to climb the ladder of wealth and power. I knew you had the ability and could give me what I desired. Of course, your debonair charm swept me off my feet, and I fell in love with you, but my eye was always set on rising above the menial neighbors."

William turned away, unable to gaze into Victoria's dark eyes. Overwhelmed by her declaration, he stammered, "Your love — was a facade — masking your desire for wealth and power." He swallowed hard, forcing his last words to cross his lips. "I meant nothing?"

Softening her tone, she smiled and whispered, "No, of course not, William, but you've lost sight of our future."

His words were desperate, pleading for her to understand. "Your future — our future — lies in redemption."

Victoria moved toward the desk where William had laid the key. He'd underestimated her determination. "We've waited too long for this moment." Her hand reached out and brushed against his face. "You once had a fiery blaze burning in your body and mind, seeking the best of everything, regardless of who or what you trampled beneath you."

"Those days are gone. It cost Billy mortality and even his chance at eternal life. I can't turn my back on him — or the others — simply for this pursuit of yours." He pleaded, praying he could make her see. "It would bring us peace. Let Billy find the treasure and, hopefully, our salvation."

Victoria snarled, "We've searched every corner of this mansion, even deep into the bowels." Victoria chuckled, making a bitter sound. "The mortal, Sandra, traipsed into their den and handed them the book. How long before they discover the clues and find the treasure themselves? Then, we will all be damned."

William's state of weakness was taking its toll. He couldn't continue this battle with Victoria. His voice resonated with sadness. "Your way will cost us our souls."

Victoria shook her head, her voice trembling with disgust. "Who are we? We're empty spirits, William! Shadows of our former selves. The key and the treasure are our only chance to reclaim what is rightfully ours."

William sighed, his breathing growing ragged. Making his decision, he reached for the key. "I won't let you sacrifice everyone for your dream, not even if it means our eternal damnation. I'm giving the key to Billy."

Victoria's gaze hardened. "Then you leave me no choice." Her fingers clasped the heavy candlestick holder, and she swung it with all the force she could muster, bringing it down against William's head. An eerie swooshing sound, reminiscent of hundreds of bats taking flight, filled the room as his figure crumbled to the floor, disappearing in an icy mist.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers


Chapter 20
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 20

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 19
His words were desperate, pleading for her to understand. "Your future — our future — lies in redemption."

Victoria moved toward the desk where William had laid the key. He'd underestimated her determination. "We've waited too long for this moment." Her hand reached out and brushed against his face. "You once had a fiery blaze burning in your body and mind, seeking the best of everything, regardless of who or what you trampled beneath you."

"Those days are gone. It cost Billy mortality and even his chance at eternal life. I can't turn my back on him — or the others — simply for this pursuit of yours." He pleaded, praying he could make her see. "It would bring us peace. Let Billy find the treasure and, hopefully, our salvation."

Victoria snarled, "We've searched every corner of this mansion, even deep into the bowels." Victoria chuckled, making a bitter sound. "The mortal, Sandra, traipsed into their den and handed them the book. How long before they discover the clues and find the treasure themselves? Then, we will all be damned."

William's state of weakness was taking its toll. He couldn't continue this battle with Victoria. His voice resonated with sadness. "Your way will cost us our souls."

Victoria shook her head, her voice trembling with disgust. "Who are we? We're empty spirits, William! Shadows of our former selves. The key and the treasure are our only chance to reclaim what is rightfully ours."

William sighed, his breathing growing ragged. Making his decision, he reached for the key. "I won't let you sacrifice everyone for your dream, not even if it means our eternal damnation. I'm giving the key to Billy."

Victoria's gaze hardened. "Then you leave me no choice." Her fingers clasped the heavy candlestick holder, and she swung it with all the force she could muster, bringing it down against William's head. An eerie swooshing sound, reminiscent of hundreds of bats taking flight, filled the room as his figure crumbled to the floor, disappearing in an icy mist.

*****

CHAPTER 20

Victoria's breath came in shallow gasps as she paced the room, running her hands through her hair. Horrified by what she'd done, she searched the room, hysterically crying, "William! What have I done?" Finally, falling to her knees, her trembling hands touched where William had fallen and disappeared. Weeping, she asked, "My darling, where are you?"

In her moment of panic, Victoria neglected to sense the change in the room. The ghostly whispers had heightened to a chorus of voices, some mourning and others sneering words of regret. Elongated shadows lurked in the corners, each contorting and stretching as if to grab her. Her home with William had transformed into a menacing space.

One voice, vaguely familiar from the past, was louder than the rest. The tone was neither accusing nor forgiving but filled with warning. "My dear Victoria, your spirit has not diminished over the years."

The other shadows faded into the walls as Victoria raised her head and searched the room. "Leave me be! I have no desire to hear your mockery." A wave of shame and regret washed across her soul.

The voice spoke again, more explicit and less friendly, "You've done the unthinkable, my dear Victoria — striking William." His words hung heavy in the thick air.

Victoria brushed the tears from her face and stood, twirling around in search of the voice. She wailed, "He wouldn't listen to me. I didn't mean to lose my temper, but now it's too late. He's vanished."

A tall, dark shadow, a faint silhouette, seemed to emerge from the wall. The vibration of his voice touched her like a soft breeze, stroking her inner thoughts. His features gradually sharpened in the room's dim light, shimmering against the darkness. A glimmer of recognition flickered through Victoria's rattled thoughts.

"All is not lost — not yet." He stepped closer, revealing a face she once knew. His gaze rested on Victoria, and he saw a spark of bittersweet remembrance flash in her eyes. He, himself, felt a stab of pain.

As his form solidified, Victoria's heart quickened with surprise, guilt, and a glimmer of hope. She murmured, "Sebastian?" Her voice choked with emotion, her whisper a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. His eyes, once bright, now overflowed with sadness.

Her eyes dropped, and she turned away. She recalled how she'd left him, shattered and heartbroken when she'd returned the engagement ring and told him she was going with William. She hadn't tried to hide the reason, making him feel less of himself. The sad memory added to the heavy burden she felt about William.

Sebastian whispered, his voice filled with understanding, "We all make mistakes, Victoria, and hopefully, we learn from them."

She moistened her lips, swept a few delicate wisps of hair from her face, and tried to smile. "You deserved much better than me. My sights were set on wealth and power, hopefully, blended with love."

Sebastian struggled, knowing his life had been full, yet deep inside his heart, he carried the love he'd once shared with her. Pain clouded his eyes, and his form wavered, losing some of its brightness, knowing her heart would always belong to William. "He's not gone forever, but the path ahead is treacherous."

A cold wind swept through the room, carrying the faint scent of roses and decayed memories of days gone by. Victoria shivered as he backed away, almost fading into the wall.

Her panic returned. Her eyes widened with fear, and her voice trembled: "Don't go, Sebastian. I need you."

As he faded back into the wall, disappearing from view, his faint whisper echoed, "We can't undo the past."

Victoria threw herself against the wall, feeling the coldness in her fingertips as her skin prickled. She moaned, "Sebastian, don't go. I never meant to hurt you or William."

"I know." As the voice faded, it whispered, "My Victoria, beware the consequences of your greed."

Stunned, Victoria tore herself from the wall, wailing, "You don't understand! It's not greed. I truly want happiness with William, but is it a sin to enjoy the finer things?" Sebastian did not answer, and she was left standing in the cold room alone.

Distraught, she collapsed across the bed, remembering Sebastian's words — William was not gone forever. Thoughts of Judge William Parker swirled inside her mind, and she sighed, murmuring, "There's still a chance I can have both."

*****

At the top of the landing, James, Tim, and Sandra stopped, checking the hallway and the bedroom door across from Sandra's room. Satisfied, James swung Sandra's door open, allowing her to enter first.

She raced across the room, opening the jewelry box, knowing the key would not be there. Feeling foolish, she shrugged. "Guess I hoped our prayers would be answered and it would miraculously show up there. But why would Madeline steal it and then bring it back?"

James paced around the room, his eyes darting from one corner to another, his mind racing with possibilities. "A woman was here. And a man —" He trailed off, the mystery of their identities hanging in the air.

Curious, Sandra interrupted, "How can you tell?"

"Inhale."

Sandra followed his directions, then shook her head. "Nothing except maybe a faint scent of the roses outside."
 
"Humans! Your sense of smell fails you." He inhaled deeply, his brows furrowed as he concentrated on the scent. "I definitely smell a woman's cologne. It's one I recognize. The other scent is woodsy, a manly scent."

"Is it Madeline's cologne?" Tim asked.

James sighed and shook his head. "I think I was too hasty to blame her. She wears a soft lilac perfume. This one is more subtle, a bit alluring."

Feeling frustrated, Tim snapped, "Enough with the guessing games. We need to find that key." He walked toward the closet, opened the door, and closed it. "I tried to tell you I thought I heard voices inside the room, but when I slipped inside, all I saw was a woman's dress disappearing into the closet."

Sandra gasped. "That's how Victoria entered my room the first time she visited me about the key. She had a manservant with her then. Maybe he's the man."

James shook his head. "I don't think so. Someone far more distinguished than a manservant would wear this cologne."

Tim's eyes darkened. "You think Victoria and the Judge took the key?"
 
*****

After staying behind to calm Benny and Ryan, Billy raced upstairs to join the trio in their search. He heard Tim say something about the Judge as he rushed through the door. Still heated from his conversation with the boys, his tone was rough when he addressed Tim. "What do I or my grandfather have to do with a conversation involving the missing key?"

As the two men glared at each other, James jumped in with the explanation. "The cologne in the room does not belong to Madeline. I believe it is Victoria's, and there was a man here, too."

"Perposterous! Why would my grandfather take the key? He knows we need it to solve this mystery for everyone." Billy's voice was angry, and he looked directly at Tim as he snapped, "You're wrong!"

James tried to ease the situation. "Billy, stop and inhale the air. The clues are in the cologne."

He inhaled and then walked around, retracing James's footsteps. At last, he rejoined them. "I smell the cologne, but it could belong to anyone. It doesn't prove it was them."

"You're right, but it won't hurt to talk to them. Why don't you do it since he is your grandfather?"

Billy snarled, "Maybe Victoria was involved, but not my grandfather. He knows the importance of the key." His heavy strides towards the door confirmed his determination to prove them wrong. "To satisfy everyone, I will ask him even though I know Victoria will lie, regardless."

As he hurried through the darkened hallways, deeper into the mansion, his resolve to clear his grandfather and Victoria of any wrongdoing wavered. He slammed his fist against the wall and shouted into the air, "Victoria, so help me, if you've done this —"
 
He hastened deeper into the darkness, brushing aside the shadows whispering and lurking within the walls, unaware of Sebastian.
 
*****

After leaving Victoria, Sebastian had roamed the mansion, his mind consumed with thoughts of her and what the counsel expected from him. He'd warned her but did not know if she would listen to what he'd said. When he detected the sounds of footsteps on the spiral staircase, he'd retreated deeper into the shadows, hidden from view. Billy's approach piqued his curiosity, but his fear for Victoria heightened as he sensed Billy's rage filling the air. Against his better judgment, he decided he needed to find William as quickly as possible.

*****

Esther had never found the courage to wander through the front part of the mansion, fearful of consequences. She'd surprised herself when she'd found the courage to approach Madeline in the garden, especially since she was a mortal.

Something about her pain and sorrow urged her to overcome her own fears and extend a comforting hand. Those few moments in the garden had touched Esther more than she had expected. She remembered the warmth two people could share, and now, in the cellar's dampness, feeling chilled to the bone, she longed to see Madeline again.

After much discussion of the pros and cons with herself, Esther decided to seek out Madeline's room. One of the friendlier occupants of her domain had spoken of Noah's wife, gossiping that she'd returned to the mansion and occupied the room at the rear of the mansion — alone. Esther also suspected the gossip about prostitutes terrorizing the widow included Madeline, as well.

As she moved through the corridors, an angry voice halted her progress. Fearful of approaching, she stood in the darkness, out of view, as the man banged on the door, demanding entrance. She thought it odd that he didn't just slip through the walls if he wanted to gain entrance so much. The fiery red glow from his eyes told her to steer clear until he left. In the bowels of the mansion, one learned it was better never to interfere in something that didn't pertain to you.

Billy slammed his fist against the door, regretting his promise to his grandfather to respect Victoria's privacy and his when they were in their quarters. When it was apparent no one would answer, he slumped against the wall, moaning, "Grandfather, where are you? Has that woman put you into jeopardy, or worse yet, have you been damned?"

Esther did not know who Billy was seeking, but she felt a pang of sorrow for him — another unexpected show of emotion in this dreary place. Esther clutched her shawl tighter around her shoulders, amazed that her cold, defeated heart felt warmth, not once but twice in a matter of a few hours.
 
Inside the room, Victoria cowered, praying Billy would leave and she would not have to explain William's disappearance.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's


Chapter 21
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 21

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 20

Those few moments in the garden had touched Esther more than she had expected. She remembered the warmth two people could share, and now, in the cellar's dampness, feeling chilled to the bone, she longed to see Madeline again.

After much discussion of the pros and cons with herself, Esther decided to seek out Madeline's room. One of the friendlier occupants of her domain had spoken of Noah's wife, gossiping that she'd returned to the mansion and occupied the room at the rear of the mansion — alone. Esther also suspected the gossip about prostitutes terrorizing the widow included Madeline, as well.

As she moved through the corridors, an angry voice halted her progress. Fearful of approaching, she stood in the darkness, out of view, as the man banged on the door, demanding entrance. She thought it odd that he didn't just slip through the walls if he wanted to gain entrance so much. The fiery red glow from his eyes told her to steer clear until he left. In the bowels of the mansion, one learned it was better never to interfere in something that didn't pertain to you.

Billy slammed his fist against the door, regretting his promise to his grandfather to respect Victoria's privacy and his when they were in their quarters. When it was apparent no one would answer, he slumped against the wall, moaning, "Grandfather, where are you? Has that woman put you into jeopardy, or worse yet, have you been damned?"

Esther did not know who Billy was seeking, but she felt a pang of sorrow for him — another unexpected show of emotion in this dreary place. Esther clutched her shawl tighter around her shoulders, amazed that her cold, defeated heart felt warmth, not once but twice in a matter of a few hours.

Inside the room, Victoria cowered, praying Billy would leave and she would not have to explain William's disappearance.

*****

CHAPTER 21

Esther lingered at the top of the landing, gazing into the inner sanctum of the mansion where the mortals lived — her ghostly form tingled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The gardens had always been her refuge, a place of solitude from all the constant whispering and moaning in the lower section of the house, not imagining that it could be so quiet within the mansion walls.

She extended her hand, letting her ethereal fingers caress the sunlight streaming through the windowpanes. The warmth felt like a distant memory, a sensation she had long forgotten in the confines of purgatory. A soft sigh escaped her translucent lips. At that moment, Esther felt a longing, a deep yearning for something she couldn't quite name but knew she wanted to rediscover.
 
*****

Once again, feeling threatened by the others, Madeline returned to her room and saw the shadow of a woman standing near the far stairway. She seemed so childlike as her fingers fluttered in and out of the sun's rays, reminding Madeline of butterflies in flight.

She moved closer and then recognized the woman from the garden. "Esther? Is that you?"

Startled, Esther's glow faded, almost disappearing into the shadows. She dropped her hand and spun around to face the voice. Her bodily glow brightened, and she felt the warmth wash over her. A smile, a rare sight on her ghostly face, formed as she nodded in recognition.

Esther hesitated to speak, having been shunned by most throughout her life, including in purgatory, the confidence she'd found in the garden was lacking inside the mansion confines.

"Were you looking for me?" Madeline smiled and extended her arm toward Esther. "Don't be shy. You're welcome in my room. I could use a good friend."

Esther's smile returned, and she glided across the wooden floorboards toward Madeline.

Once inside the bedroom, the sadness left Esther's dark eyes replaced by a soft glow as she moved around the room, admiring the worldly pieces. Even in her past life, she'd never possessed such finery. Her fingers touched the red silk peignoir, then moved to one of Madeline's blue silk shirts and a scarf of many colors. Her eyes widened in amazement as she took in all the fine pieces adorning Madeline's room, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the gray, muted hues of her own personal dwelling. Her body shimmered as she faced Madeline. "Forgive me for being so forward as to touch your personal effects. They're so soft and beautiful, something I've never known."

Madeline picked up the scarf and handed it to Esther. "Here. Take this."

Esther's eyes widened in surprise, then she turned away, dropping her eyes. "I wasn't asking — I didn't expect—"

"I didn't think you were." Madeline smiled, not sure whether she could touch Esther's ghostly being. "It's a gift. A thank you for your kindness, something I don't get much of these days." She held out the scarf again. "I want you to have it. I have many more."

Flustered, Esther's translucent fingers trembled as she accepted the gift. She murmured, "Thank you."

Madeline reached out to hug Esther, her fingers passing through the ghostly form. She shivered at the sensation of coolness and warmth, like a gentle breeze on a sunny day.

A little embarrassed, she backed away, moving toward the windows. "Come. Let's sit in the sunlight near the window. The housekeeper —" She stopped midsentence to question, "Do you know Lorrie?"

Esther shook her head. Though she had seen the housekeeper in the gardens, she often wondered how an ethereal being like herself lived amongst the mortals, even commanding respect. Yet, she'd never found the courage to approach.

Madeline continued talking as she poured the tea. "It's no matter, I was just wondering. Anyhow, Lorrie leaves tea and pastries every afternoon."

"That's thoughtful of her. Is she — your — friend?"

Madeline chuckled, wondering herself if Lorrie was a friend or foe. She handed the tea to Esther. The woman stared at the cup, feeling the warmth generated from it but not raising it to her lips. "Is something wrong? Don't you like tea? I can get you something else if you prefer." Madeline felt foolish, having assumed her new friend would enjoy the simple things that she did.

Esther sat the cup on the side table, pressing her thin lips together, before staring into Madeline's eyes. "I — I've never —been — where the mortals dwell." She let her eyes wander around the room before returning to Madeline's bewildered look. "Nor have I — taken nourishment from their offerings."

Madeline scowled, confused by Esther's remarks. "You don't eat or drink?"

Esther giggled. "We do, but except for materializing in the garden with you, I'm not aware of what I can and cannot do when not in my own space."

Madeline's eyes lit up as she smiled at Esther's awkwardness. "Wait a minute." She hurried toward a linen closet, retrieving a hand towel, then returned to Esther's side, placing the towel on her lap.

"A towel?" Esther didn't understand what she was to do with it.

"Don't you see? It's an adventure for both of us." Madeline grinned.

Esther's eyes looked doubtful. "An adventure?"

Madeline felt giddy, like a young girl for the first time in years. "We're entering different worlds — together — learning new things — like the tea. You try to drink from the cup. If it spills or you have problems, we have the towel to clean the mess. You won't know what you can do in my world until you try."

Esther smiled and picked up the cup of tea, raising it to her mouth. Tentatively, she pressed it to her lips but didn't drink.

Madeline sipped her tea and then leaned close to her new friend. "Come on. You can do it."

Esther nodded and then took a tiny sip, followed by another. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears as she experienced the warm liquid run down her throat. "Oh, Madeline!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder and gratitude. She took another sip and then sat the cup on the table. Tears welled in the pools of her eyes. "I'd forgotten how a simple thing could bring so much pleasure."

After sipping tea and chatting about simple things, Madeline felt a strange kinship to her new friend. She didn't find herself thinking about ghostly things. Instead, she wanted to share pieces of her life story, hoping to build a stronger bond.

She gazed longingly out the window, praying her past would not frighten Esther or make her want to shun their relationship. Still, something unfamiliar inside her urged her to be open with this new friend. She was tired of hiding secrets from others.

"Is something wrong, Madeline? You've grown quiet." Esther sipped her tea, set her cup down, and stood. "Maybe I have overstayed my welcome. I'm sorry." Her eyes had regained their sadness.

"No, Esther. It's nothing like that. I want you to stay." Madeline waved toward the chairs. "Can we sit and talk some more?"

Esther's glow began to return as she joined Madeline in the sunlight. "There's nothing better I would like to do. I'd forgotten about cozy chats and laughter. You've given me a special gift."

Madeline nodded and shared a smile before deciding to tell Esther about her past. "I don't want you to think less of me, but I haven't always lived in this mansion. Before I came here with my husband, Noah, I was —" she hesitated, for the first time ashamed of her past. Biting her lip, she took a deep breath and let it escape slowly. "I don't know how to put this without offending your senses, but I was a prostitute."

Madeline's eyes widened in fear as Esther's body faded, leaving a cold breeze in her place. "Oh, Esther, I'm sorry I offended you. Please come back." Frantic, wondering where she had disappeared and if she was gone for good, Madeline paced back and forth, begging, "Please come back."

It seemed like forever to Madeline, but in reality, it was only moments before Esther's form began to return. Madeline's eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered, "Thank you."

To Madeline's relief, Esther's figure quivered and shook before finally materializing. Shaken by what had happened, she slumped into the chair she'd been occupying and took several deep breaths.

Madeline knelt beside the chair, frightened for herself and her friend. "Are you alright? What happened to you?"

Esther straightened her dress, patting her body and face before a chuckle escaped her lips. Madeline jumped at the unexpected sound and stood up, staring at the woman. Finally, convinced that she'd returned intact, she grinned. "You didn't offend me, dear Madeline. And you certainly didn't do anything to me." She inhaled, closed her eyes, and then exhaled slowly. "A dark moment from my past life grabbed hold of me, and I was yanked backward in time, but only for a brief moment. I believe it had something to do with appearing as a mortal, but since it's a first, I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Was it something I said?" Madeline had never felt so mortified in her life, fearing she'd done harm to Esther.

"Maybe indirectly, but it's nothing you could have known." Esther sighed and then cast a soft gaze at Madeline. "After I lost my one love, I sank into depression, not caring about life, just taking what was there to claim."

Madeline's eyes widened. "You were a thief? A bandit?"

"In a manner of speaking. I stole other women's happiness by taking their husbands, using them until they had nothing else to give, and then moving on to another." Her voice faltered, and the room cooled as she regretfully said, "You see, dear, I, too, was a prostitute."

The room was quiet except for the breath of the two women. They stared at each other before erupting into a roar of raucous laughter. Two peas in a pod!

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's


Chapter 22
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 22

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 21

Madeline knelt beside the chair, frightened for herself and her friend. "Are you alright? What happened to you?"

Esther straightened her dress, patting her body and face before a chuckle escaped her lips. Madeline jumped at the unexpected sound and stood up, staring at the woman. Finally, convinced that she'd returned intact, she grinned. "You didn't offend me, dear Madeline. And you certainly didn't do anything to me." She inhaled, closed her eyes, and then exhaled slowly. "A dark moment from my past life grabbed hold of me, and I was yanked backward in time, but only for a brief moment. I believe it had something to do with appearing as a mortal, but since it's a first, I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Was it something I said?" Madeline had never felt so mortified in her life, fearing she'd done harm to Esther.

"Maybe indirectly, but it's nothing you could have known." Esther sighed and then cast a soft gaze at Madeline. "After I lost my one love, I sank into depression, not caring about life, just taking what was there to claim."

Madeline's eyes widened. "You were a thief? A bandit?"

"In a manner of speaking. I stole other women's happiness by taking their husbands, using them until they had nothing else to give, and then moving on to another." Her voice faltered, and the room cooled as she regretfully said, "You see, dear, I, too, was a prostitute."

The room was quiet except for the breath of the two women. They stared at each other before erupting into a roar of raucous laughter. Two peas in a pod!

*****

Chapter 22

Esther leaned her head against the chair, gazing out the window, watching the sun's rays dance across the rose garden. "It's so beautiful, isn't it? Until today, the rose garden and the field of wildflowers were my only spots of comfort." Esther sighed, "Thanks to you —" She paused, and her train of thought drifted from the present to lost love. She pictured herself walking in the garden, hand in hand, with him. She enjoyed the warmth, but memories of her loss began creeping back, and her body's glow dimmed. Trying to shift her mind in a different direction, she asked, "Did you and your husband walk in the garden?"

Madeline's fingers toyed with a lace doily on the arm of the chair, remembering. She, too, gazed out the window at the garden before answering. "We did — at first. It was such a beautiful spot, especially at night under the stars. We were so much in love."

"What happened?" Esther didn't want to pry, but they'd been sharing so much as they talked, and it seemed natural to ask.

Madeline stared at her hands, rubbing them, as she searched for the right words, realizing there weren't any. Regardless of how she answered, the picture her words painted wouldn't be pretty.

"I'm sorry, Madeline. I didn't mean to distress you."

"No, it's something I must face. I wasn't a good person. Ask anyone in the mansion, and they'll be quick to describe me as hateful, selfish, and even cruel."

Esther shook her head. Her voice was soothing as she murmured, "That's not the Madeline I've met. Maybe this is your second chance."

Madeline raised her eyes to look at Esther. "Second chance or not, I'm grateful for having met you." Their eyes shifted to the garden, and they sat quietly, each lost in their thoughts.

Finally, Madeline spoke, "I'd gone from living on the streets or in a bordello to being a lady of the manor. I could walk the town streets, and everyone would smile and say hello. If I needed something, the stores were quick to find it for me, regardless of how busy they were with other customers. I began to believe I deserved the extra attention because of our wealth. Noah was busy with his work, something he didn't share with me. So, I was left alone." Madeline sighed and then smiled at her new friend. "I read a quote once that sums it all up. I believe it said — an idle mind is the devil's workshop."

"So, you were bored and sought something to amuse yourself?" A troubled expression covered Esther's face. "It happens to a lot of people."

"I didn't have to search far. Men were quick to find me, especially one particular one. Foolishly, I thought he cared about me, but I was just a means to what he wanted much more than me. My silly flirtation gave him access to our home and the opportunity to murder Noah."

Esther gasped. "Someone murdered your husband?"

"Yes, but I was blind to his plans until I was trapped in his lies. Everyone pointed their finger at me, accusing me of murdering Noah. My anger turned to rage, and I made matters worse, acting out, causing problems, and solidifying their beliefs."

"You were hurt." Esther understood the pain and wished she could reach out and hug Madeline. She stood and moved around the room, admiring Madeline's beautiful things. "I, too, was heartbroken and shunned by the upper class. Talk about being dimwitted, my dear. I am at the top of the class. I was young and in love. I believed anything was possible, including having a future with a man far above my status in life. I discovered I was pregnant. I was afraid and didn't know what to do. I shared my problem with a woman who claimed to be my friend. Foolishly, I thought someone so worldly would know how to help me. Shortly after, I noticed the women whispering, sharing gossip, and turning their backs on me."

Esther continued, "The woman I'd confided in told me the pregnancy would destroy any future I hoped to have with the man I loved. She said I needed to either do something about the child or break it off with him because he deserved better. She painted a devastating picture, one of sheer doom." A damp, cold breeze floated across the room, and Esther's glow faded as her sadness consumed her as it had all these years.

Madeline shivered, but her heart remained focused on Esther and her suffering. Afraid to approach her, she tried to bring her back to the now. "Esther, tell me about the child."

Slowly, Esther's body began to glimmer, not nearly as brightly as it had earlier, but with a warm glow. Her voice was soft as if she were caressing the child. "He was beautiful—perfect fingers and toes, chubby cheeks, and massive locks of black curly hair. It was the happiest time of my life." Esther's light flickered, shining brightly and then almost fading away as she remembered the loss of her son. "His name was Will."

Madeline stood and moved closer. "I sense something happened, something that you never overcame. Sometimes, it helps to talk about it. Do you want to tell me?"

"Not just yet." The sadness in Esther's eyes told Madeline it wasn't a story her friend wanted to remember.

Madeline searched her mind for something to ease the tension. "I don't claim to understand all this purgatory stuff, but if you are here in the mansion, doesn't that mean that you, too, have a second chance at redemption? Imagine leaving this place for the beauty of eternal life."

"It's a fairytale thought, but I doubt it will happen." Esther's tone was filled with bitterness.

Madeline ignored her anger, imagining it was because of her pain. "Why not? I'm sure you haven't lived the gruesome lives of some of these people. I don't know their history, but the few I recall seeing —" Memories of what she still referred to as her nightmares flashed through her thoughts, and icy fingers strummed her spine. "Well, if they are here for redemption, you, my friend, should rise to the top of the list."

"There can be no greater pain than what I have suffered in the past. I turned my back on God —" Esther turned away, pretending to study the pictures on the wall. "Redemption is out of the question."

"I don't believe that, Esther. Regardless of what I've done in my past, I believe that if I open my heart to him, he will come."

Esther laughed. "Sorry, but are you referring to God or to that luscious man of yours?"

"Esther, you know what I meant." A pink flush crept across Madeline's face as she unconsciously thought of Noah.

Suddenly, Esther stopped perusing the room. A picture of an older man hung above the fireplace. His eyes reminded her of a younger man she once loved. Her eyes welled with tears as she stared at it. Trembling, she asked, "The man in the picture — did he live here?"

Madeline glanced at the oil painting and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think Noah said he might have owned the mansion at one time, long ago. It might have been sold after his death."

"A beautiful place to live out one's life." Esther's eyes remained glued to the painting as she murmured, "His family must have been happy here."

"I'm not privy to the whole story, but I think he might have been murdered." Madeline lowered her voice, "Do you know the story about the hidden treasure?"

"I've heard rumblings, but I try to keep to myself."

"I believe he's connected to it, and somehow so is everyone's redemption. Like I said, I only know bits and pieces."

"His eyes remind me of someone."

"The man you loved?"

"It doesn't matter, does it? One can't turn back the clock, nor can I believe some mysterious treasure can bring me redemption." Abruptly, Esther turned to face Madeline. "I need to go."

Without another word, her spirit faded, and she was gone, leaving Madeline troubled by what happened.

******

Overwhelmed with memories, Esther left Madeline without an explanation, retreating to the field of wildflowers, trying to gain some sense of order in her trembling body. Tears streamed down her face, and the warmth she'd felt from the sun was a distant memory. Her tormented soul cried out for answers.

Her time on earth had ended, yet memories suddenly haunted her. Is this what purgatory was about?

Her thoughts wandered to the days of her earthly existence. She remembered the warmth of William's touch, the joy of their son's laughter, and the cold sting of betrayal when Victoria stole them away.

Sebastian watched from a distance, his celestial aura hidden from view. He felt the burden of his mission pressing heavily on his shoulders. This was no ordinary task. He was expected to unravel the tangled web of pain and mistrust without revealing divine intervention, except things were far more complicated, and he struggled with his next move.

He'd tried to warn Victoria, but she failed to listen. Was Esther his only hope?

He flipped through a notebook, reading and rereading the garbled words he'd written, knowing William's ramblings were the clues to everyone's redemption. Did he dare approach Esther? Would she recognize him as Victoria's jilted lover? Or were her wounds so deep that she'd not want useless memories to be brought to light? After all, he knew how life had treated her and the pain she'd suffered.

Ultimately, he knew he had no choice but to approach her and prayed she harbored enough memories of her love for William and their son to help him.

As he stepped into the clearing, Esther raised her head and saw a figure. In the distance, she could not recognize him, yet, oddly enough, she felt comforted by his approaching spirit. He called her name, "Esther."

Her eyes darkened from painful memories as he drew closer, yet she softly murmured his name, "Sebastian?"

"It is I. Please don't fear me because I hope to bring you peace."

Esther scoffed, "Peace? The scars are too deep, as you should know and understand. Why would a celestial being come to this place? Is this a trick because I turned my back on your God?"

"I know your pain, Esther. I once stood where you stand now, lost and broken. My desire — my mission — is to find a path for redemption."

"Why come to me? Victoria seeks the treasure, not I."

"I warned Victoria, but she will not listen. I can't help someone who does not want to be saved."

"Then you should leave me to my sorrows. Nothing awaits me in your Heaven."

"You are mistaken. Your love for William and your son holds the key to your salvation."

"You're too late. William has succumbed to Victoria, and as for my son — I surrendered him too. Though my heart was ripped from me, I was forced to turn away."

"But you didn't turn away, Esther. That love — you carry it with you to this very day. You can't blame God for what Satan has done."

"What does it matter, Sebastian? I will never see either of them again."

"You are wrong. The whispering spirits have brought William to me. He is incoherent and rambles continuously with what I believe to be clues."

"Give them to Victoria. She is probably by his side." Esther turned away to hide her pain.

"Esther, I'm a being sent from above and can't lie. In his state of turmoil, William calls for you, not Victoria."

Esther gasped, and her spirit shimmered brighter than the sun's rays. She whispered, "It's not possible."

Sebastian held out the notebook, its pages filled with William's incoherent ramblings. "These words may seem like madness, but within them lies the key to freeing you, William, and so many more. You are the only one who can bring him back. Will you help me?"

Esther stared at the notebook, then into Sebastian's eyes. She saw a flicker of hope and wondered if this was her chance to find peace. Though she was doubtful, her heart would not turn away from William. She whispered, "Take me to him. I will do what I can."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker I - the grandfather
Judge William Parker (Bully) - the grandson
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 23
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 23

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 22

"The whispering spirits have brought William to me. He is incoherent and rambles continuously with what I believe to be clues."

"Give them to Victoria. She is probably by his side." Esther turned away to hide her pain.

"Esther, I'm a being sent from above and can't lie. In his state of turmoil, William calls for you, not Victoria."

Esther gasped, and her spirit shimmered brighter than the sun's rays. She whispered, "It's not possible."

Sebastian held out the notebook, its pages filled with William's incoherent ramblings. "These words may seem like madness, but within them lies the key to freeing you, William, and so many more. You are the only one who can bring him back. Will you help me?"

Esther stared at the notebook, then into Sebastian's eyes. She saw a flicker of hope and wondered if this was her chance to find peace. Though she was doubtful, her heart would not turn away from William. She whispered, "Take me to him. I will do what I can."

CHAPTER 23

Standing in the rose garden outside the carriage house, Sebastian paused, giving Esther time to catch her breath. She'd remained silent as they'd walked through the field of wildflowers, her ethereal figure fading in and out, showing how fragile she was by Sebastian's request.

"Esther, do you understand that going to William is your choice? It is not my place or even within my capabilities to force you to do this if you prefer not to. That is not part of anyone's plan. I am only here to offer guidance."

The radiant aura surrounding Esther's figure dimmed, almost vanishing. Knowing the weight of her decision, a sense of dread washed over Sebastian's heart. If she chose not to tend to William, everyone would be lost. He understood the depth of her turmoil; after all, William had broken her heart not once but twice, taking her son away. Forgiving such betrayal was no easy feat for a mortal. Because of his actions, she made decisions that doomed her to an unbearable place in purgatory. He could not tell her that caring for William might be her salvation and redemption. She had to decide her own path.

With a heavy sigh, she lowered her weary body onto the bench. Memories of meeting Madeline and sitting in the same spot flashed through her thoughts. She remembered the compassion she'd felt; though strange, it felt warm and peaceful.

Could helping William do the same? Deep in her heart, she was aware of the love she'd once felt for him, and being close to William might ease the ache she felt for her lost son.

*****

Sebastian feared leaving William alone would expose him to Victoria or any other evil spirits if they discovered where he was. He didn't want to rush Esther, but his priority was William's safety. His voice was soft and reassuring as he addressed her, "I do not mean to pressure you, but my absence from William's side leaves him vulnerable to the others. It is your choice, but I need to return to him regardless."

Esther raised her eyes to face Sebastian. "Your compassion is overwhelming, Sebastian. Your God made an excellent choice, making you a celestial being. I didn't remember you as kind or understanding as a mortal."

"I wasn't always. It was something I had to learn and come to terms with. It wasn't easy, but I didn't face the pain you did." He smiled and reached out to touch her. "He is not my God, Esther; he is the shepherd of all his lambs, including you."

"Me? I fear you are being overly kind."

"Esther, I was sent on this mission to find you. Would God do that if he thought you're not worthy?" Sebastian moved toward the carriage house door. "I must go. Give me your hand if you want me to take you to William. If not, I will leave you." The gravity of the situation was not lost on him, but he knew it was not his position to push her. She had to make the decision.

Sebastian held out his hand. Esther closed her eyes, inhaling sharply and slowly releasing her breath before slipping her ethereal hand into his.

*****

Sebastian touched the lamp on James's writing desk and opened the bookcase, revealing a tunnel. "Don't be afraid. I can light the way. The tunnel leads beneath the gardens, opening inside the mansion."

Taking another deep breath, she slipped through the opening, following Sebastian. The sound of the bookcase closing startled her, but a sense of awe quickly replaced her fears as lanterns lining the tunnel walls illuminated their way. Artifacts, guns, and swords hung on the walls, their splendor captivating Esther, each whispering forgotten tales.

*****

Sebastian touched a stone high on the tunnel wall. As he twisted it, a rocky section shifted to the side, allowing Sebastian and Esther to step inside. As she entered the dimly lit room, her ghostly form glided silently across the floorboards. The air was initially thick, but Esther felt it clear after a few moments.

Sebastian slid a heavy curtain, opening an adjoining room. William was lying in an unconscious state on an antique bed, his hands and legs jerking occasionally. His face was pale as a strange light filtered through the cracked windowpane.

Esther could see him as her eyes focused in the dim light. A rush of emotions surged through her. Anger, hurt, love, and an overwhelming sadness twisted inside her like a tangled vine. She hesitated at the doorway, her heart pounding as if it might break free from her chest. 'How did it come to this?' she wondered — her mind a whirlwind of memories and regrets.

Sebastian moved closer to William, checking if anything had changed since he'd left. He quickly checked the large gash, remnants of Victoria's wrath to his head. Esther remained in the doorway, trembling,

"Right now, he is unaware that either of us is here. Sit with him and see if you find it in yourself to stay. If you want to leave, I will show you the way back." Sebastian placed a chair by the bedside, urging her to sit. "Come closer."

Esther took a deep breath and moved, closing the distance between her and the man she'd once loved more than life itself. The room was filled with the scent of old wood and dust. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, stopping short of touching his cold skin.

Breaking the eerie silence, she whispered, "William, I'm here." Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. Her eyes shimmered with sorrow, pain, and grief she'd tried to bury. Yet, in that moment, she knew she still loved this man deeply. Whether she was forced to remain in purgatory forever, she knew she could not leave his side.

Gently, she placed her hand on his forehead, stroking his brow. Her first contact with him sent a shiver through her, not from the icy cold but from the memories it invoked. Thoughts rushed through her as memories of his touch and how he had once made her feel alive and loved. Now, he was a shadow of that man, lost in purgatory, but she would not surrender to Victoria's claim to his heart this time.

Sebastian smiled as he watched Esther face her fears and accept her place by William's side.

*****

The loss of the key left Sandra in a confusing turmoil that left her wondering if she should leave the mansion and return to the city. She'd lost faith in her ability to be a crime investigator or her ability to help save these lost souls. Her hope of speaking to James about her concerns was on hold because, according to Lorrie, he'd been summoned to the council.

Needing time to think, Sandra returned to the study, hoping to curl up before the fire while she mulled over her decision. As she entered the room, her nose wrinkled at the smell, not the usual damp, musty odor when the room was filled with spirits.

"Oooh! It smells like a brewery in here." She moved across the room to open the window, letting the sweet aroma of roses and fresh air penetrate the foul smell.

"My fault." A male voice spoke from the dark corner.

Startled, Sandra gasped and turned to see who was there. "Benny! I didn't see you when I came into the room. Hope I am not interrupting anything."

"Only my drinking. Lately, the only good thing about being able to materialize as a mortal is the pleasure of drinking fine bourbon." He raised his glass in the air and then returned it to his lips, taking a long sip of the liquor. "I'm afraid I might have broken a bottle or two in my anger."

As Sandra moved closer to him, she could see the shattered pieces of glass on the floor and a damp stain on the wallpaper. She chose not to comment. "I thought I'd sit by the fire. Would you care to join me?"

Benny scowled, "I doubt I'd be much of a conversationist. The bourbon hasn't soothed my temper."

"I haven't heard your story yet. Maybe you would like to tell me about it."

"What does it matter? We are all doomed without the key or the Judge's book." His voice was laced with bitterness and sorrow.

"Don't give up, Benny." She held out her hand to him. "Please come sit with me and tell me your story."

After a few moments of thought, he followed her to the fireplace. Sandra settled into one corner of the sofa, and Benny stood, putting his glass on the mantle.

"How does the fairytale go — once upon a time?" Benny shook his head and turned toward the window, inhaling sharply. "If I was given the chance to redo my life, I might do it differently, but I'm not sure that would be the truth."

Having no knowledge of Benny's past, Sandra naively asked, "What was your life like?"

"Different, I guess. Definitely filled with intrigue and adventure."

"Hmmm — it sounds interesting. Did you have a family? What was your profession?"

A sadness filled Benny's eyes as he answered. "No family. A wife and kids didn't fit into the picture." He sipped his bourbon and smiled, knowing Sandra wasn't prepared for what he would say next. "You see, I was a professional hitman."

Her eyes widened, and she stammered, "A hit—man? You murdered people?" Sandra felt an icy chill crawl up her spine as she stared at Benny. "How does —" She gulped. "How does anyone obtain redemption from killing people?"

Benny laughed, but it was an eerie, chilling sound. "I didn't kill anyone who didn't deserve it."

Sandra's discomfort was evident as her eyes darted around the room. She swallowed hard and let her gaze settle on Benny. "There must be more to your story than that. How did you end up with the other guys?"

"Lucky, I guess." Benny set his glass on the mantle and moved to the sofa, sitting at the far end. "Actually, someone hired me to kill Noah."

Sandra gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. "You — you killed Noah?"

"Relax." Benny chuckled at her reaction. Most people would be shocked at his revelation, not that he'd told too many about what he did for a living. Those kinds of things were best kept to yourself. "Those days are far behind me, but to answer your question — no, I didn't kill Noah. I couldn't. We'd been friends since grade school, and like I said, I only knocked off people who had it coming."

"So — what did you do?"

"I went straight to Noah and told him. I showed him the packet of money I'd been given. He tried to laugh it off, but I could see he was upset. He even asked if it was Madeline."

"Was it?"

"No, but I must admit, since she was getting so cozy with the sheriff, I thought she might have been involved." Benny sighed and continued, "Unfortunately, Theo — the mansion's gardener — overheard our conversation and decided he wanted the money. He threatened me, and we got into a huge brawl. He came after me with a large knife he used in the garden." Bennie sighed, "We struggled, and I got the upper hand, plunging the knife into his gut. End of story."

"That can't be all that's to it, Benny. You didn't just murder people and then end up here in purgatory."

"Humph! Got that investigative reporter brain of yours going, huh?" Benny smiled. "You're right. I was a modern-day Robin Hood, so to speak. Whenever money crossed my palm, it ended up in the church basket on Sunday. The Lord and I had some long talks. He must have listened when I told him I was sorry for my past because I ended up here with Ryan and the Judge with a chance for redemption."

Sandra stared into the crackling fire, mulling over Benny's story. She'd been brought here to help these lost souls and was about to turn her back on them and walk away. She'd lost the book and now the key. "Don't give up, Benny."

"Without the book or the key, we can't find the treasure. Accept the fact, Sandra, we're doomed."

"I'm not giving up. I'm going to get that key back and find the book." Without another word, she stood and left the study.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 24
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 24

By Begin Again

ENDING CHAPTER 23

Benny sighed and continued, "Unfortunately, Theo — the mansion's gardener — overheard our conversation and decided he wanted the money. He threatened me, and we got into a huge brawl. He came after me with a large knife he used in the garden." Bennie sighed, "We struggled, and I got the upper hand, plunging the knife into his gut. End of story."

"That can't be all that's to it, Benny. You didn't just murder people and then end up here in purgatory."

"Humph! Got that investigative reporter brain of yours going, huh?" Benny smiled. "You're right. I was a modern-day Robin Hood, so to speak. Whenever money crossed my palm, it ended up in the church basket on Sunday. The Lord and I had some long talks. He must have listened when I told him I was sorry for my past because I ended up here with Ryan and the Judge with a chance for redemption."

Sandra stared into the crackling fire, mulling over Benny's story. She'd been brought here to help these lost souls and was about to turn her back on them and walk away. She'd lost the book and now the key. "Don't give up, Benny."

"Without the book or the key, we can't find the treasure. Accept the fact, Sandra, we're doomed."

"I'm not giving up. I'm going to get that key back and find the book." Without another word, she stood and left the study.

*****

CHAPTER 24

Sebastian's presence filled the dimly lit room with a celestial aura, casting a warm glow that enveloped Esther as she gazed at William. "Thank you for bringing me here," she whispered.

"I know you are what he needs, Esther," Sebastian reassured her with certainty.

"What if I hadn't come with you? What if I had made a different choice? What would have happened?" Esther's voice trembled with apprehension as she battered Sebastian with her questions.

Sebastian sighed, his gaze shifting to the unconscious man lying on the bed. "Without the will to maintain his ethereal glow, I suspect the demons would come and carry him away, and his soul would be lost forever."

Esther gasped, her eyes widening in fear. She turned her attention to William and continued questioning Sebastian, "How did you know I would come?" She paused, and her voice quivered when she spoke again, "As a mortal, I lived a life of which I couldn't be proud — bitterness and sorrow replaced the goodness I once felt."

"But your heart never faltered," Sebastian replied, his voice gentle and unwavering. "Regardless of what you say, your love for William and your son never ceased."

Her head snapped around toward Sebastian, her eyes searching his face. Her ethereal glow flickered. "But it did! I admit I lay awake nights crying and wanting to —" Her words trailed off, choked by the weight of her confession.

"Hush, Esther," Sebastian interjected, his eyes full of understanding. "Those were words of pain and anguish. You would never have caused harm to either of them. Isn't that why you submitted and let Victoria and William raise the boy? You thought you couldn't give him what he needed, regardless of how much pain it caused you."

"Yes," Esther murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted him to have so much more." She dropped her eyes, unable to look at Sebastian, her words tinged with longing, "I pray he had a wonderful life."

Sebastian touched Esther's shoulder. "I promise you that he did. William was a good father and didn't let his son forget his true mother."

Tears welled in her eyes as she murmured, "Maybe one day —"

William jerked, and a loud groan escaped his body. Esther reached for his hand and softly called his name, "William, my love, it's Esther. You must listen to me. You've always been a fighter, a strong, determined man. Don't give up now."

She leaned closer to his motionless body, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Even when we were young, Victoria recognized your potential and what you would become. I, on the other hand, failed both of us."

She glanced toward Sebastian before she continued, "Not this time. I'm here for you, but you must hold on to the will to come back. Don't let them claim you." She bent down and whispered in his ear, "Fight, William. Come back for your son — our son." She hesitated, then added, "Come back to me. I love you. I've always loved you."

Sebastian backed away from the pair and slipped out the door. He knew Esther would remain by his side, and he had other things to attend to before reporting to the higher powers.

*****

After many hours of sitting at William's bedside, she stood and walked around the room, stopping in front of the fireplace and gazing into the flickering flames. As her thoughts wandered, she spoke to William, "For years, I rehearsed what I would say to you. I thought you would cringe as I released my pent-up rage, and I would find my revenge." She wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I — I was a fool. Victoria poisoned my mind, and I believed her when she said you deserved better." She choked back her tears. "Where did our lives go wrong? You a common criminal — one with power and prestige, maybe — but still a thief." She turned to stare at the frail, lifeless body. "Were you a murderer, too?" She shook her head, chasing the thought from her mind. "I can't envision you as either."

She shivered, unable to look at William. "I'm sorry. I have no right to accuse you of anything. When Victoria came and demanded our son, I crumbled beneath her harsh words. I let my insecurities, my weaknesses, and her venomous words drive a wedge between us. Instead of fighting for what was mine, I fell into a pit of misery and became a prostitute. It wasn't for the sex. The truth is, I wanted the pleasure of seeing marriages crumble, exacting my pain on those poor women. My only goal was to prove I could control powerful men with my body and charm. When I became ill, no one cared. I deserved what I got."

"And now, here I am, pacing around your lifeless body, talking to a man who may never hear my words. It's ironic, isn't it? In life, I couldn't find the courage to speak my heart, and now, in death, I can't seem to stop. My dearest William, can we really be forgiven for the life we led?"

The flames flickered, almost extinguishing, as a cold draft swirled around the room. Esther hurried to William's side, unaware of another presence in the room. "William, maybe it's too late for forgiveness, but if you can hear me, if there's any part of you still holding on, please know that my love for you has never died. And if by some miracle you wake, I will be here."

Victoria's shrill laughter crackled across the room. "Well, well, if it isn't poor pathetic Esther trying to redeem herself. You fool! You were never worthy of him." Her bitterness stung like pelting ice crystals against Esther's being. Brushing Esther's frail spirit aside, Victoria knelt beside the bed. "William, darling, it's me. I've come to care for you, my love. Forgive me for my impulsiveness. You know I would never harm you."

At the sound of her voice, William's body twisted, and a low moan escaped his lips. Victoria sneered at Esther. "See!" Holding his lifeless hand in hers, she laughed, "I'm what he wants and needs."

Esther cringed and stepped away, allowing Victoria to win again. But something deep inside her mind screamed for her to stop, to fight for the man she loved. Not knowing where the strength came from, she returned to his bedside. "Look at him, Victoria. Look at what you have done. How can you say that you love him? Isn't it the treasure and what you think you can gain from it that you really want?"

Furious, Victoria lashed out at Esther, flinging her spirit across the room and knocking a lamp from the table. Dark shadows and eerie voices lined the walls and ceiling, taunting the women. Esther struggled to regain her bodily form.

Seizing the upper hand, Victoria's hand twisted violently in the air, sending an entire bookcase of dusty books swirling across the room, pelting Esther over and over. Her face was contorted with hatred as she screeched, "It's your fault! He never stopped loving you. He spoke of giving it all back to the rightful owners. I tried to show him what life could be like with all those riches, but he refused to listen. Because of you, I had to stop him!"

Esther pulled herself from the floor. An uncontrollable rage replaced her fear. Her voice quivered, "Victoria — tell me — you weren't — responsible."

Hatred consumed the woman as she lunged at Esther. "We could have had it all!" Esther was prepared this time and sidestepped Victoria, letting her crash against the fireplace.

The room darkened, and a wind, similar to a cyclone, whirled around it, scattering its contents everywhere. Victoria's icy voice cracked as she threatened Esther, "You'll not have him."

Her hand clutched a brass candlestick holder, and she waved it above her head as she lunged toward Esther, howling, "He's mine!"

Esther's eyes filled with fear, yet she stood her ground, placing herself between Victoria and William's moaning body. "He'll never be yours! Bludgeon me if you must, but that won't get you his love."

The door opened, and Sebastion entered the room, his voice stern yet calm. "Leave this room and don't return, Victoria."

A strange quietness enveloped the space except for a hissing noise as Victoria disappeared in a cloud of mist. Immediately, the chaos was resolved, and the room returned to normal. Esther slumped into the chair, grasping William's hand as he mumbled, "My Love —"

A tear trickled down her face. "Oh, William, are you calling out for her?"

Esther hadn't noticed that someone else had entered the room with Sebastian. When he spoke, his voice startled her. "You're wrong. My father is speaking of you."

Esther turned toward the voice and found her staring into the eyes of a familiar face, younger but clearly related to William. "Hello, Momma." With those quiet words, he materialized into the boy she remembered.

Esther's eyes shifted from his to Sebastian and then back again. She struggled to speak, "You remember —"

His eyes were sad as he spoke, "How could I forget? That summer day when Victoria took me from you." He saw the pain and sorrow in Esther's eyes and wanted to erase all of it. "As a boy, I wasn't allowed to search for you, and when I did — you were very sick — delirious and — dying. Father and I held your hands. I always thought you knew, or at least we were in your thoughts, because you whispered Will as you took your last breath."

Tears streamed down her face, unable to understand how she was being given this second chance to right so many wrongs with William and her son. Gasping, she reached out her hand to Will, and he came to stand by her side.

"He talked of you often. He never stopped loving you, and neither did I."

As if a confirmation, William moaned, "Esther?"
 
"I'm here, William, with our son. We will get through this together, but you must fight to come back."
 
"Father, we need to stop Victoria. Please, if you can, fight to come back to us."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 25
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 25

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 24

Esther turned toward the voice and found her staring into the eyes of a familiar face, younger but clearly related to William. "Hello, Momma." With those quiet words, he materialized into the boy she remembered.

Esther's eyes shifted from him to Sebastian and then back again. She struggled to speak. "You remember —"

His eyes were sad as he spoke, "How could I forget? That summer day when Victoria took me from you." He saw the pain and sorrow in Esther's eyes and wanted to erase all of it. "As a boy, I wasn't allowed to search for you, and when I did — you were very sick — delirious and — dying. Father and I held your hands. I always thought you knew, or at least we were in your thoughts, because you whispered Will as you took your last breath."

Tears streamed down her face, unable to understand how she was being given this second chance to right so many wrongs with William and her son. Gasping, she reached out her hand to Will, and he came to stand by her side.

"He talked of you often. He never stopped loving you, and neither did I."

As if a confirmation, William moaned, "Esther?"

"I'm here, William, with our son. We will get through this together, but you must fight to come back."

"Father, we need to stop Victoria. Please, if you can, fight to come back to us."



CHAPTER 25

Driven by Benny's sorrow and belief that the book's disappearance had sealed their fate, Sandra frantically rummaged through the closets for a lantern or anything else to help her on her quest. Thoughts of revisiting the depths of the mansion sent fingers of terror throughout her body, but she knew it was something she had to do. She'd lost the book, and now, even if it meant risking her life, she was determined to retrieve it for their sake. The fact that it wasn't about a story but about helping those in need surprised her. Maybe — she'd discovered a better side to herself.

She hesitated at the top of the landing, trembling. Thoughts of the last time she had descended these stairs flashed through her mind. She struggled with her decision, but in the end, she slowly crept dpwn the staircase, choking back her fear as the mansion's thick, suppressing air surrounded her.

A deep feeling of dread mounted within her as she moved deeper into the haunted chambers, her lantern casting a dim, flickering light. Unsettling shadows danced on the damp limestone walls, making the hallway feel alive with movement.

As she ventured into the darkness, her footsteps echoed ominously, mingling with distant, indistinct whispers that seemed to come from all directions. The voices were low and murmuring, sharing a thousand secrets just out of earshot. She couldn't tell if they were real or just a trick of her imagination, but they made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her heart pounded against her chest, frantically warning her to turn back.

She quickened her pace, the dampness of the floor making her steps unsure and slippery. Every so often, she thought she heard another set of footsteps behind her, soft and stealthy, always just a few paces behind.

Panic clawed at her mind. She glanced over her shoulder, but the hallway stretched empty behind her, the shadows playing tricks on her eyes. The sensation of being followed felt real, as if it was there but just beyond the edge of her vision. Her pulse quickened, and she forced herself to move faster despite the tightening fear constricting her chest.

*****

After Sebastian abruptly dismissed her, Victoria walked the halls, licking her recent battle wounds but certainly not waving the white flag of defeat. Thoughts of Esther at William's side gnawed at her gut. She needed a plan to win him back, and retrieving the book seemed to be the only path available for redemption. Having decided, she was stunned to see Sandra descending into the bowels of the mansion, too.

Victoria shook her head, muttering to herself, "Mortals! You are no match for these spirits."

Her ethereal figure shimmered and shattered like pieces of cut glass falling to the floor when a male voice spoke from the shadows. "Victoria, why do you persist in carving your name on the walls of damnation?"

Slowly, her shadow frame retook form, flickering dimly and then growing brighter as she realized the voice's owner. "Sebastian —I thought —" She hesitated to continue as she stared into his eyes, void of the kindness she usually saw. Instead, they were darker than the night. "I was only reflecting —"

"Stop!" His voice was a whisper but echoed through Victoria's being like a tidal wave. "I can't save you if you continue your chosen path."

"Save me!" Victoria's chuckle sounded more like a gurgling cry. "You take your celestial duties far too seriously." She waved her arm in the air. "Look — it's too late for salvation."

"It's never too late." A deep sadness cloaked his spirit as he gazed at his old friend. "I don't have the power to stop you, but I pray somewhere deep inside you will do the right thing."

"The right thing —" Victoria spun around to confront Sebastian, but only an icy chill remained. She whispered, "Sebastian." A sadness settled over her spirit as she realized she would probably never see him again.

*****

As Sebastian's unexpected appearance weighed on her, Victoria swiftly navigated the passages like a sinister shadow until she caught up with Sandra outside the ballroom. 

She closed her eyes as she materialized into a tangible form, allowing her thoughts to drift to William. Memories of their blissful love warmed her heart, only to be overshadowed by sadness because so much had gone wrong. She adjusted her dress in a ladylike fashion, took a deep breath, and emerged from the shadows. Her face was a mask of conflicting emotions.

Recognizing her, Sandra gasped, "Victoria!"

Victoria smiled and shook her head. "My dear, you shouldn't be here in the bowels of this mansion. Have you forgotten the dangers? They are beyond your earthly imagination."

Sandra shuddered at the woman's presence, remembering she had led her into danger the last time. Her voice was barely audible. She whispered, "Are they not the same for you?"

"Child, deceit, and unworthiness have stained my soul. Yours is pure. Those who lurk beyond this door will devour you for the momentary taste of what once was."

Sandra's eyes widened in horror. "You're trying to frighten me so I won't try to find the book. Is the treasure that important to you?"

Victoria hesitated, her body flickering, fading in and out, before gaining its earthly form again. "At one time, all I could imagine was having the wealth and power in my hands, but now — in this very moment — it doesn't matter anymore. I've lost William and have no one to blame but myself." She laughed, a sorrowful moan followed, and then she spoke in a low, honey-laced whisper, "Let me help you."

Without waiting for Sandra to answer, a gust of wind blew the door to the ballroom open, and Victoria swept past Sandra's trembling figure.
 
An eerie silence filled the room, broken only by the faint whisper of tortured souls. Chunks of decay hung from the once-elegant chandeliers, emitting a musty odor. Covered in layers of cobwebs, the oblong crystals barely reflected the dim light that seeped through the cracks in the walls. Warped and splintered, the wooden floor showed years of neglect. Faded and discolored pictures and murals of long-forgotten days decorated the walls, their subjects' eyes glowing ominously.

Shadows danced along the room's edges, taking on grotesque human forms. Their eyes were bright with an eerie, evil light, fixated on the intruders. Within the walls, mournful wails and spiteful curses echoed, rising to a pitch of frenzy and then falling into a hushed murmur.

Frozen in terror, Sandra stood trembling in the doorway. She stretched her hand toward the woman and hissed, "Victoria, we — we can't —"

"No, you can't —" Victoria pointed toward a pedestal near the fireplace. "That's the book." She slowly turned, letting her eyes scan the shadows lurking closer as she spoke. "I must."

Defiantly, she tipped her chiseled chin upward and, with determination, glided toward the pedestal and the book. As she neared her destination, an evil presence materialized. Despite his tattered clothing, he portrayed the resemblance of an aristocrat, exuding authority through the medals he wore. Sparks flew from the intense fire in his sunken eyes. His face was twisted and grotesque, yet his voice was surprisingly strong and demanding. "I see deep into your tortured soul," he hissed, his voice a chilling rasp. "You lie. You want the book for yourself."

Victoria's hand darted forward, snatching the book with a triumphant yet desperate gleam in her eyes. "The book belongs to William, not you."

The figure's form grew in size as a high-pitched wail blasted from his twisted mouth. Other shadows began to materialize and circle around her, their mangled claws reaching for her.

Clutching the book tightly to her chest, Victoria cried, "I can make things right." She turned to escape, but panic surged through her as she realized what her ambition had cost her. 

In a desperate cry, she screamed, "Sandra, run!"

Frozen in fear, tears poured down the mortal's face as a mournful cry escaped her lips, "Oooooh!" 

In a final defiant act, Victoria hurled the book into the roaring flames of a fireplace. The fire roared to life, devouring the aged pages of the Judge's book, its glow dancing across the distorted faces of the ghosts. 

They lunged at her, their claws raking her skin and tearing her clothing, but her thoughts remained focused on Sandra. "Go!" and a final plea, "Sebastian, save her."

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around Sandra's body, pulling her backward from the doorway. She screamed, struggling to get free. Her arms and legs flailed wildly as Victoria's screams penetrated her entire being.

"Sandra, you're safe." Sebastian's protective hands pulled her back, out of reach of the menacing creatures. He covered her ears, quieting the dreadful sounds within the ballroom as he watched in stunned silence.

His eyes met Victoria's tortured gaze. The firelight reflected in her eyes, a fleeting glimmer of the woman she once was. Her lips moved as she murmured, "Forgive me."

With one last agonizing cry, her body crumbled to the ground, lifeless and broken. Relentless, the enraged spirits' claws dug deeper until a sudden burst of flames surrounded them. Thwarted by the fire, they recoiled and slipped into the darkness, their furious wails echoing through the dark corridors.

Sandra clung to Sebastian as Billy and Tim, having heard the torturous cries, raced down the corridor toward them.

The flames had died down, leaving ashes and the scent of burnt paper. 

Sebastian placed Sandra in Tim's arms, murmuring, "She'll need rest. When she wakes, it will only be a bad dream."

As Tim carried Sandra to the safety of her bedroom, Sebastian joined Billy near the ballroom doorway. 

Angry, Billy shouted, "It was Victoria, wasn't it? She sacrificed us all — for what? To be tortured and sent to hell?"

Still reeling in grief, Sebastian murmured, "I tried to warn her."

Billy scoffed, "Why? You're a celestial being. You should have known she'd choose the treasure in the end. Why didn't you stop her?"

Billy's remarks stung but effectively brought Sebastian back to his mission. "I wanted to, but I don't have that power. It was her choice."

"All of this was for nothing. My grandfather —" A wave of sadness choked Billy as he remembered his whole reason for choosing to come to purgatory. His eyes drifted to the flickering flames and the burnt book. "Without my grandfather and the book, we're all doomed. What was she thinking?"

"In the end, she asked for forgiveness. She burned the book so they wouldn't have it."

Billy dropped to his knees, sobbing. "I tried Grandfather. You told me always to be a warrior, but I failed."

Sebastian touched Billy's shoulder as he spoke. "There still might be a chance."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 26
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 26

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 25
The flames had died down, leaving ashes and the scent of burnt paper.

Sebastian placed Sandra in Tim's arms, murmuring, "She'll need rest. When she wakes, it will only be a bad dream."

As Tim carried Sandra to the safety of her bedroom, Sebastian joined Billy near the ballroom doorway.

Angry, Billy shouted, "It was Victoria, wasn't it? She sacrificed us all — for what? To be tortured and sent to hell?"

Still reeling in grief, Sebastian murmured, "I tried to warn her."

Billy scoffed, "Why? You're a celestial being. You should have known she'd choose the treasure in the end. Why didn't you stop her?"

Billy's remarks stung but effectively brought Sebastian back to his mission. "I wanted to, but I don't have that power. It was her choice."

"All of this was for nothing. My grandfather —" A wave of sadness choked Billy as he remembered his whole reason for choosing to come to purgatory. His eyes drifted to the flickering flames and the burnt book. "Without my grandfather and the book, we're all doomed. What was she thinking?"

"In the end, she asked for forgiveness. She burned the book so they wouldn't have it."

Billy dropped to his knees, sobbing. "I tried Grandfather. You told me always to be a warrior, but I failed."

Sebastian touched Billy's shoulder as he spoke. "There still might be a chance."
 
*****

CHAPTER 26
Lorrie carefully tucked the comforter around Sandra, ensuring she was snug and comfortable. The soothing effects of the housekeeper's special tea had finally brought Sandra into a peaceful slumber, erasing the haunting remnants of a dreadful dream from her mind.

Tim sat by the window in the dimly lit room, his tall figure silhouetted against the closed drapes. His presence was a comforting watchfulness over Sandra, but Lorrie could sense his inner turmoil.

"I know what you're doing, Lorrie," Tim's deep voice broke the silence, catching Lorrie off guard. "Your fussing won't hide anything."

Lorrie feigned innocence, adjusting the pillow beneath Sandra's head. "Me — fussing? I'm simply attending to her needs. It's my duty."

Tim's eyes were dark and intense. "You're blaming yourself, aren't you?"

Lorrie hesitated, her staunch facade cracking. "Blaming myself? I don't understand what you mean."

"For not foreseeing Sandra's need to return to the bowels of this place, perhaps," Tim's voice softened with empathy. "Or for knowing and not being able to prevent it. She's young yet focused on this career she's chosen, but she's strong-willed and doesn't always think things through properly."

"She's much like you!" Lorrie murmured, her eyes dropping to Sandra's peaceful face. "Maybe when she wakes, you should reveal who you are. She deserves to know your story, considering the impact of your disappearance on her and her mother."

Tim's gaze turned away, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames. "I don't want to burden her, Lorrie. It could add unnecessary pressure if she knew I was her father, especially now."

Lorrie considered his words. "True, but it could also bring her closure and ease the sorrow she carries, knowing you never intended to leave her or your wife."

Tim remained silent, the weight of his unspoken words hanging in the air. The air thickened, and the room seemed to whisper, the ghosts of the past lingering just beyond the firelight.

******

"Esther, I want you and Will to take a walk in the garden. You don't need the fresh air, but you could enjoy God's beautiful creations. Walk in the garden and catch up on — the good things. Will, I am sure that Esther would like to know about your childhood and Rebecca."

Esther looked at Sebastian, her ghostly form shimmering with worry. "But I need to stay with William." Her spectral eyes pleaded with him not to make her leave.

"I know, but I need to speak with him. He needs to hear about Victoria, and I think it should come from me."

"Victoria! She betrayed my father. What good could come from telling him?" Will moved closer to Esther. "She —"

"Right or wrong, she loved your father. She made bad choices and suffered the consequences, but that doesn't change the fact that they shared a life. Your father needs closure to cleanse his heart, or redemption will never be his."

Will nodded and took Esther's trembling hand. "I suppose I do have a lot to tell you. Let's take a walk."

Sebastian watched the silhouettes of mother and son fade away before taking the chair beside William's bed. At first, he sat quietly as the whispering grew silent, then he offered a prayer, hoping for guidance as he talked to William.

"William, it's Sebastian. I don't know if you remember me, but it doesn't matter. The council has sent me to help you and the others. I don't have the power to change your decisions, only to suggest and show you the way."

William stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and his lips moved, but then he returned to his comatose state.

"Don't strain yourself, my friend. You'll need your strength soon. For now, I need you to listen. I've got a message to deliver from Victoria."

William moaned, and his hand jerked as if trying to stop Sebastian, or maybe the sound of her name triggered something deep inside his heart.

"William, calm yourself." Sebastian waited and then continued, "No one's life on earth is perfect. We all make bad choices, but that doesn't mean we can't be forgiven. You made some serious mistakes, and though you tried to make amends, you lost the chance because others took your life. Victoria was blinded by the thought of the treasure and being an aristocrat once again. She made a crucial mistake and paid the price."

William moaned, his ethereal glow fading as his earthly form lost shape.

"William!" Sebastian's voice rose above his normal calming tone. "William, stay with me. Don't give up."

A chorus of angelic voices filled one corner of the room while evil whisperings hung far back, assuring their distance from Sebastian yet eager to claim another soul.

Knowing William's soul hung in the balance, Sebastian raised his eyes to the ceiling and begged, "Please, give me strength and guidance. So many souls depend on this man."

Without waiting for a sign, Sebastian laid his hand on what remained of William's ghostly being and spoke, "In her own way, Victoria loved you. She made the choice to find the book, but in her last moments, she sacrificed herself and the book for you and the others. She asked forgiveness as she slipped into the darkness." He paused, took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Don't make her sacrifice be for nothing. You need to come back to your family and finish this quest. For you, Esther, Will, and everyone involved. Think of your grandson — Billy needs to know —"

"Needs to know what?" Billy's voice interrupted. His ghostly form materialized at the doorway, after rushing to his grandfather's side.

Sebastian stood and faced Billy as if expecting the visit, calmly answering, "That you are loved."

Sebastian bent over and touched William's body. A brilliant glow surrounded his hands and generated into the fading shape, leaving warmth. "Sit with your grandfather. Give him your strength by talking to him about how blessed you were to have him in your life. How the love you shared outshined his misjudgments in life."

"He knows that! Isn't that why I'm here? I chose to fight for his soul, no matter the cost."

"True — but your journey is to do so much more."

"Tell me."

"In due time, Billy. It's not my place. I am only here to guide you. I've told your grandfather about Victoria. Now, you must help him return to us."

Sebastian's celestial figure faded, leaving Billy alone with his grandfather. He settled into the chair near the bed and touched his grandfather's hand. A tear trickled down his face as he stared at the remnants of the man who had been his hero throughout his life. The reason he fought for the chance to save him and the others from damnation.

"Grandfather. It's Billy." He waited for a sign of recognition, but when nothing happened, he continued, "Please, don't leave me alone. You are the only family I have ever known. I'm doing this for you — for us. Please come back. Let's do this together. The book is gone. You are our only hope."

William's ethereal body began to take shape once again. His lips moved as he muttered, "Go forth."

"I will, Grandfather, but I don't know where to start. You've got to help me."

"Go fort —"

Billy buried his head in his hands. "Grandfather, I don't know what that means. Where do you want me to go?"

William's eyelids fluttered, and then he was staring at his grandson. As his form grew brighter, he whispered, "Our secret." His lips continued to move, but Billy couldn't understand the words. Finally, William gasped, "Fish."

Billy's shoulders sagged as he repeated his grandfather's words. "What are you telling me?" He mulled over the words and then repeated them out loud. "Go forth. Go fort. Our Secret. Fish."

Suddenly, Billy's eyes lit up. "Oh, Grandfather, I love you. I've got to tell the others."

As he raced out the door, Sebastian materialized, smiling. "You can rest now, William. Your grandson is on the hunt."

*****

After a short walk through the wildflower fields, Will led his mother into the rose garden, choosing a wooden bench for them. The ethereal glow of their forms shimmered in the sunlight but left no shadow.

"Mother," he began, his voice filled with sadness. "I've told you about my childhood and Rebecca, but we must discuss father."

Esther nodded, her translucent figure flickering slightly. "I was never part of their circle, so I only heard the gossip."

Will took a deep breath out of habit, not because his earthly form needed it. "I want to preface this conversation by telling you he was the best father any young boy could ask for. And his power and riches opened every possible door for me. He had the high standing of being an exceptional judge. Still, he was deeply involved with the mob for some unknown reason."

"Maybe a judge's salary couldn't maintain the quality of life Victoria demanded." Esther sighed, her voice echoing faintly. "I don't mean to speak poorly of her, but her need to appear above others certainly didn't work out well for her."

"Yes, and despite his shady dealings, he always had a heart of gold for our family. He did everything to protect us, especially when he tried to redeem himself with the treasure."

Esther's eyes flickered with regret, their light dimming. "I suspected as much. The town gossiped, and it wasn't always about me."

"When I met Rebecca, Victoria was livid. She was a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, but Father didn't care. He understood how much we loved each other, and when she became pregnant, he provided her with shelter and care. Of course, she couldn't stay in the main house, but the cottage suited her far better."

Tears lined Esther's eyes as she recalled the life she once lived. "I remember Rebecca and so many other young girls just like her, shunned by the women of society. Even though your father succumbed to Victoria's charms, I knew he loved you and would do right by anyone you loved."

"A friend challenged me to a horse race, and my horse stumbled, breaking his leg. I was thrown onto some boulders near the creek and died instantly. Father, though heartbroken, continued to care for Rebecca. When she died in childbirth, he took our son and raised him as his own."

Esther reached out, her ghostly hand passing through Will. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Rebecca, and your son."

"It wasn't your fault, Mother," Will replied gently. "But now, as lost souls in purgatory, we need to band together and return the treasure to its rightful owners so we can find redemption and enter eternity together."

A loud male voice brought Will and Esther's attention to the garden gate as Billy raced through it, calling "James — Ryan — Benny." Not recognizing the two ethereal beings on the bench, Billy stopped, unsure what he saw.

The man on the bench was a much younger replica of his grandfather. The woman — he'd seen her face, but where? Instantly, he remembered his grandfather in his study holding the picture of this woman and a young boy.

"Grandfather?" Billy's voice was hesitant and filled with confusion. "But I just left—" he turned to Esther. You —you were someone very important to my grandfather."

Having heard Billy calling their names, James and the other men appeared at the cottage door. James spoke first. "What's happening, Billy?" Then he noticed Esther and Will on the bench and realized the answer.

Billy glanced at the two spirits and then at James. "Maybe you can tell me. I don't think I have ever met these two people, yet they seem so familiar."

James stepped forward, spreading his arm toward the two. "I suppose it's about time."

Billy scowled, "Time for what?"

James took Esther's hand, and she stood. "For you to meet your grandmother — the Judge's first true love."

Billy's eyes widened as he stared at her, trying to understand why he'd never known this woman. Then he turned to Will. "And you look so much like my grandfather."

Will nodded. "I'm his son. And you would be mine, I presume."

Billy's jaw dropped. "You're my father?"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 27
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 27

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 26

James, a man of few words but deep emotions, gently took Esther's hand, guiding her to stand. "It's time for you to meet your grandmother — the Judge's first true love."

Billy's eyes widened like saucers, his gaze locked on the woman before him. He turned to Will, his voice trembling with disbelief. "And you, you look so much like my grandfather."

Will nodded. "I'm his son. And you would be mine, I presume."

Billy's jaw dropped, his voice barely a whisper. "You're my father?" His words hung in the air, heavy with disbelief and a sudden surge of emotions he couldn't quite understand.

*****

CHAPTER 27

Billy's ethereal glow flickered brightly for a moment, reflecting his inner turmoil. Then it dimmed, only to illuminate and shimmer again as he struggled to take it all in. The two people standing before him were strangers, yet he had a comforting feeling that they were part of his life.

His eyes darted between the man who claimed to be his father and the woman introduced as his grandmother. A mix of confusion, curiosity, and a hint of recognition flickered in his gaze. "You're the woman from the photo, the one Grandfather always kept hidden in the study, aren't you?"
Esther's smile was tinged with sadness, her heart warmed by the fact that even after he was with Victoria, he found time to remember their love.

"Your grandfather and I were deeply in love, but circumstances tore us apart. He was destined to be a famous judge, but my lowly background would have interfered."

Billy struggled to reconcile their images of the past with his own. "That doesn't sound like my grandfather. He always treated everyone as equals."

"In the beginning, when we were both young, he saw things differently with the help of Victoria. I'm glad that you saw him in his later years."

"He visited the cemetery a lot. I didn't know why, but he would take flowers and never let me go. I would follow him and watch from a distance. He would kneel at the graves, and he seemed very sad. When he returned to the mansion, he would lock himself away in the study for hours, his actions shrouded in a veil of mystery and sadness."

Will's expression softened, a look of understanding passing between him and Esther. "Your grandfather carried many regrets, Billy. Those visits were his way of making peace with the past."

"Were you buried there, too?"

"Your mother and I found our resting place beside your grandmother." A flicker of sadness passed over Will's face as he remembered Rebecca. "You were robbed of the love of your parents and your grandmother, but I'm sure you know how much you were loved."

"Grandfather was the best. He's the only family I ever knew, but he never let me mourn for what was not meant to be. He taught me to live in the present, to love each moment as if there was no tomorrow," Billy reminisced, his voice tinged with nostalgia and gratitude.

Even now, the thought of no tomorrows weighed heavy on Esther's thoughts. She'd just been granted the opportunity to be with her son and William again, and the chance of losing them was more than she could bear.

"Will, this is so overwhelming for me, as I know it must be for Billy. I'll enjoy a walk through the fields and let you and your son talk for a while. He probably has many questions now that he's met you."

Will sensed a change in Esther's aura, but since their relationship was new, he didn't press her. He reached out to her, asking, "Are you sure you're okay? After all, you've just met your grandson as well."

"I'm fine." She gazed lovingly at her son and then at Billy. "You have memories that only you can share." She stepped around the two men, and her silhouette glided across the garden. She stopped at the gate to look back for a moment. Tears welled in her eyes, and the glow from her ethereal form dimmed as she moved out of sight.

An awkward silence spread across the garden as the two men wondered where to begin. Billy hesitated, feeling a strange, comforting pull from the spiritual connection, yet not knowing the man claiming to be his father. Soon, his inquisitive nature won out, and he said, "I don't even know you, but at moments you seem so familiar."

Will sighed, remembering the past and how much he'd missed. "I was always near, even in the afterlife."

"Strange that our first meeting is here. Grandfather would be so pleased."
"Would you like to see some of my memories from the past?"

Billy made a strange face before answering, "How is that possible?"

Will raised his hand, and ghostly visions began to materialize around them. The air shimmered as bits and pieces of Will's memories played out like a movie.

A bright shining light formed around Will's materialized form, and his eyes glowed as he murmured, "This is how it all began." A scene unfolded, showing a young Will courting Rebecca. They were walking hand-in-hand through the garden, laughing and talking. The young couple ducked out of sight, and Will scooped Rebecca into his arms, kissing her passionately until she breathlessly pulled away.

"Your mother was the love of my life. Our courtship was filled with joy and dreams."

The scene shifted, and Will's eyes shifted away before looking at Billy. "That's your grandfather, shortly after my accident. I'd have given anything to have turned back the clock. He'd lost his son, and his beloved horse had a broken leg."

Billy watched as his grandfather raised the rifle, his shoulders heaving with grief, and pulled the trigger. Seconds later, he was kneeling at the horse's side, crying as he stroked its mane, telling him how sorry he was for having to shoot him.

The next scene shifted back to Rebecca as she stood by a window, sobbing as she clutched a man's riding jacket to her chest.

"When I died, Rebecca's grief was overwhelming. I wanted so much to comfort her, but I could only watch from afar." Once again, Will's eyes filled with longing for what once was.

"And this moment is our proudest and saddest — as you were welcomed into the world, only to be orphaned by your mother's death."

Billy watched, mesmerized by what he saw. His mother's screams filled the room as she fought to give her child life. The midwife laid the crying bundle on Rebecca's chest. Weak and dying, Rebecca raised the baby to her lips and whispered, "I love you," as she took her final breath. His grandfather was weeping openly, kneeling at her side.

"I watched as your mother gave her life to bring you into this world. Your grandfather was there, holding her hand as she left this life, just as I watched over you from the other side. It was the first and last time the four of us would be together."

Billy shook his head as the scenes faded and softly said, "I never knew. Grandfather never spoke of any of this."

Will nodded. "I believe it was on that day your grandfather made a solemn oath to change his ways and make amends for the past. Unfortunately, he never got to complete his plan." Will turned away, pacing a few steps before speaking. "I couldn't be there in the way you needed, but I've always been with you. Every step, every moment."

"I'm sorry for what we all lost, but hopefully, Grandfather will find his way back to us, and we can set things right for everyone."

*****

After wandering through the field of wildflowers, Esther walked along the riverbank, one of her favorite spots. Distraught, her translucent form was barely visible to the naked eye, but the sound of her tears echoed across the water.

"Esther, are you out here?" Esther's only mortal friend did not get any response and called out again, "It's Madeline."

Esther stifled her tears and let her body materialize before she answered. "I'm here." She stepped from behind the large oak and moved into the clearing, so her friend could see her. "What are you doing out here? I thought you rarely came out alone since the incidents."

Madeline hurried toward her friend. "I don't, but I heard James talking to Lorrie about William's son and grandson. When they mentioned your name, I got concerned and thought I'd find you if you needed to talk." Madeline took a deep breath and continued, "I know it's none of my business, and you can tell me to stop if that's how you feel. Sometimes, we just need someone to talk to."

Esther smiled. "Why couldn't I have met you when I was alive? I know we would have been friends."

"We're friends now, Esther. I admit we are a strange lot, one a mortal and the other a spirit, but it doesn't change how we feel." She chose a nice grassy spot along the riverbank and sat down, patting the ground beside her. "Come sit for a while. Please tell me what's bothering you. You should be ecstatic finding all your family together."

"But for how long, Madeline?"

"What do you mean? For eternity, of course. Once you have the clues, you can let the men start the search, and it will all be over soon. Of course, I will be sad because you will be gone, but I know you deserve to find peace."

"Redemption at what cost?"

Madeline looked confused as she studied Esther, her earthly form flickering, almost fading away and returning. "I don't understand. Isn't redemption what all this treasure hunt has been about?"
Esther nodded, but her eyes filled with sadness. "William is so weak, Madeline. What if he doesn't recover? Or what if he does, and he blames me for Victoria? And, of course, finding his son and grandson —"

"Esther, stop. I see what's happening — you think you aren't worthy, not good enough. That's simply not true. I believe you were all meant to find each other here to undo the wrongs and enter eternity forever — together. That's the true meaning of redemption, the journey to make amends and find peace."

"But — they are family."

"Your blood, your heart, your soul has always been a part of each of them. You are a good person, Esther. Don't give up on them or yourself."

Esther's earthly form glimmered brightly as she smiled at her friend.

"Thank you for talking to me. It's impossible for me to believe all the horrible things that were said about you."

Madeline chuckled softly. "Believe them. Until I met you, I wasn't a nice person. Maybe — is it possible that changing my heart was part of your mission for redemption?" 

"You mean, you don't think it was all about finding the treasure?" 

"Well, finding the treasure and doing what's right is the means of redemption for William and the others. But you are different — in a good way. Your heart is pure and full of love." 

"Enough of your foolishness, Madeline. We both know what lives we lived. Neither of us can say our hearts were pure." 

"Now think about it — Sebastian led you to William and trusted you with his care. He also brought Will to you. Would a celestial being sent to guide everyone toward redemption have done that if he did not believe your heart was good?" 

Esther turned her head away. Her shadow flickered as if she might disappear. She whispered, "I'm ashamed." 

Madeline felt a chill as she reached out to console her friend. "Ashamed — of what? You have nothing to be ashamed of, Esther." 

"I wish you were right, but I have a secret. One I've been afraid to share with anyone." 

"What is it?" 

Esther's earthly form shimmered as she struggled with her fear. She glanced at Madeline, who tried to give her an encouraging smile, but her fear hung like a heavy mist. "I've been afraid," her voice barely a whisper. I've been afraid of what the truth might mean for all of us." 

With a trembling hand, she reached into the folds of her gown, pulling out a piece of paper, its edges frayed from her nervous fingers toying with it repeatedly. "I believe it's the first clue. William kept mumbling about his ancestry and this man." The surrounding air seemed to thicken with anticipation, as if the atmosphere held its breath, waiting for the truth to be revealed. 

A rustling in nearby bushes caught both women off-guard, and they jumped to their feet. Fearing the evil ones were about to attack them, Madeline shouted frantically, "Who's there?" 

Esther stepped in front of her friend, moving toward the sound. "It's okay, Madeline. Calm yourself. It's me they want." 

Madeline clutched Esther's arm, her eyes wide with fear. "Esther, who's there?   

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 28
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 28

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAP 27

Esther's earthly form shimmered as she struggled with her fear. She glanced at Madeline, who tried to give her an encouraging smile, but her fear hung like a heavy mist. "I've been afraid," her voice barely a whisper. I've been afraid of what the truth might mean for all of us."

With a trembling hand, she reached into the folds of her gown, pulling out a piece of paper, its edges frayed from her nervous fingers toying with it repeatedly. "I believe it's the first clue. William kept mumbling about ancestry and this man." The surrounding air seemed to thicken with anticipation, as if the atmosphere held its breath, waiting for the truth to be revealed.

A rustling in nearby bushes caught both women off-guard, and they jumped to their feet. Fearing the evil ones were about to attack them, Madeline shouted frantically, "Who's there?"

Esther stepped in front of her friend, moving toward the sound. "It's okay, Madeline. Calm yourself. It's me they want."

Madeline clutched Esther's arm, her eyes wide with fear. "Esther, who's there?

*****

CHAPTER 28

Madeline's mind was a whirlwind of past horrors as she clung to Esther. Her eyes were wide with terror as she pleaded with her friend. "Esther, we can't stay here. We have to escape!"

"Madeline, calm down. They won't harm us." Esther's voice was steady, but the flickering of her form betrayed her uncertainty. She raised her voice, calling, "You can come out now."

Madeline was horrified. "Esther, how can you be sure that we are safe? It could be any one of the evil spirits. Please, we must go."

Lorrie stepped out of the bushes first, fussing with the branches caught in her gray bun and apron. James followed like a General in command. His face was etched with a mask of worry and urgency. Lastly, Sebastian's form, glowed with confidence, brought up the trio's approach.

Recognizing the intruders, Madeline was indignant and snapped, "For heaven's sake, James, are you spying on us?" Her body trembled with a mixture of anger and fear. Her voice softened slightly as she addressed Lorrie, "And you — I thought we were on the same side."

Lorrie shook her head and reached out to Madeline, but she jerked her hand away. "Tsk tsk, child. We've no time for your childish ways. You should be thanking us. We wouldn't be here to warn you if it weren't for Sebastian."

Still wary of why the trio was here, Esther spoke for the first time. "Warn us about what?" Her grip tightened on the piece of paper with the first clue. Her eyes darted from one ethereal form to the other.

Sebastian pointed behind them, across the river. "Look."

A colossal black cloud loomed in the distance, its swirling mass spreading a suffocating darkness over the landscape. The air turned frigid, and a chilling silence descended, broken only by the mournful cries carried on the gusting winds.

"The evil ones are coming," James said in a grave voice. "They know you have the clue and won't stop until they get it."

Esther's shimmering form faded and almost disappeared as his words settled around her. She stammered, "The — clue?"

The evil spirits drew closer, their twisted forms contorting and wailing. Their eyes, a demonic orange-red, glowed with an intensity that could only be compared to molten lava.

At the sight of them, Madeline's fear escalated into a piercing scream directed at her friend, who appeared frozen in place, her form diminishing by the second. "Esther, they're coming. We'll all be destroyed if we don't act now!"

With the last of her power, Esther focused on the black swarm. It moved with terrifying speed, ripping through the trees and the earth. The ground shuddered under the onslaught, and the sky darkened until it was pitch black, blotting out any trace of sunlight.

Lorrie's eyes widened in alarm. "We must move now! If they catch us —"

Madeline's heart pounded as she stared at the advancing swarm. She grabbed Esther's hand, her fear giving way to a fierce determination to survive. "We can't let them win. Think of William and your family. Don't you want to give them a chance? We can do this, Esther."

Esther's eyes welled with tears as her ethereal form took shape again. Her voice cracked. "I was afraid — of losing them all again."

Lorrie, her face stern, stepped forward and closer to the two women. "Enough of this dawdling! We've no time for emotional outbursts. We can sort this out later, but right now, we must move."

Esther hesitated as her eyes focused on the approaching storm of evil. "If I give them the clue —"

Sebastian finished her sentence. "Everyone will be doomed. There is no reasoning with the devil." His celestial form glowed brighter as he extended his hands to Esther and Madeline. "We'll protect you, but we must hurry."

In her usual fashion, Lorrie took charge, her fussy demeanor giving way to a sense of urgency. "James, you and Sebastion create a distraction. Esther, stay close to me. Madeline, we'll take the old path through the woods. It's longer, but it will keep you hidden. We need to move — now."

Sensing Esther's overwhelming fear and sadness, Madeline reached out to her, setting aside her emotions. "You're doing the right thing. It will all work out, but we need to escape." Her eyes darted toward the approaching dark cloud and back to her friend. "Come on. William needs you."

Madeline's words splashed against Esther like ice water, jarring her out of her stupor. Her eyes, brimming with tears, spoke volumes to Madeline. She knew she would do whatever it took to be worthy of such a wonderful friendship. She nodded and murmured, "I hope I'm right about the clue, for everyone's sake.

*****

James and Sebastian exchanged a grim look. James nodded at the women. "We'll do what we can to slow them down."

Sebastian, his celestial form glowing brighter in defiance of the threatening swarm of angry spirits, spoke. "But you must hurry. Every second counts. Once you are past the forest, they will retreat."

With a backward glance, the group turned and ran. Lorrie led the way into the dense underbrush as the howling spirits grew louder. Her stern facade masked her fear as she glanced back to ensure Madeline managed the terrain.

James and Sebastian sprinted away in the opposite direction, their forms blending in the shadows as they prepared to divert their foe.

"Lorrie, they seem closer. Are we going to make it?" Madeline panted as she struggled to keep up. Her words were barely audible over the screeching and howling following them.

"We're almost to the edge of the woods. We should be safe there."

Madeline stumbled and fell into the underbrush. She cried out in pain as a branch snapped and fell on her. Esther tossed the limb aside, pulling Madeline to her feet. "Give me your hand. I'll help you."

Exhausted, Madeline leaned against her friend, sobbing. "I can't go any further. Go — save yourself."

Suddenly realizing the two women were not behind her, Lorrie stopped and hurried back to them. She wrapped her arm around Madeline's waist, and Esther did the same. "We'll do this together." Her voice sounded firm and confident, not showing the fear bubbling inside her earthly form.

The menacing roar faded as they moved through the woods, but Lorrie pressed forward until they reached the clearing. They could see the rose garden and the carriage house in the distance. Each woman sighed with relief, her thoughts filled with what would come next.

When they reached the cottage, Lorrie opened the creaking door and ushered them inside. She stood in the doorway, looking for signs of James and Sebastian.

Madeline, her heart pounding, collapsed onto a dusty chair, desperately trying to catch her breath. 'What now?' she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

Lorrie glanced at Esther, standing near the fireplace, mesmerized by the flickering flames. "I guess that depends on Esther, but either way, we must prepare. This is far from over."

The tension in the room was suffocating as Lorrie, her heart racing, watched for James and Sebastian. Each second felt like an eternity as she worried if they had made it to safety. She hadn't expected them to be that far behind, and the uncertainty was eating at her.

She felt relieved when she saw them walking through the wildflowers. Lorrie rushed out of the cottage and raced toward them. By the rips and tears in their clothing, she knew it hadn't been an easy escape, but she remained silent, knowing James would tell her later. For now, he had more pressing things on his mind.

James assumed the women were safe but asked, "Are Madeline and Esther in the carriage house?"

"Yes, I told them to wait there. Are you going to ask Esther for the clue?"

"Of course I am. After losing the book and the key, the clue might be our only hope of finding the treasure and getting redemption for all."

"I agree. At least it's a start." Lorrie pushed open the door, allowing Sebastian and James to enter.

Exhausted, Madeline was slumped over in the chair, fast asleep.

Lorrie's gasp echoed through the room, her eyes widening in disbelief. Esther, their only hope, was nowhere to be seen.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 29
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 29

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 28
The tension in the room was suffocating as Lorrie, her heart racing, watched for James and Sebastian. Each second felt like an eternity as she worried if they had made it to safety. She hadn't expected them to be that far behind, and the uncertainty was eating at her.

She felt relieved when she saw them walking through the wildflowers. Lorrie rushed out of the cottage and raced toward them. By the rips and tears in their clothing, she knew it hadn't been an easy escape, but she remained silent, knowing James would tell her later. For now, he had more pressing things on his mind.

James assumed the women were safe but asked, "Are Madeline and Esther in the carriage house?"

"Yes, I told them to wait there. Are you going to ask Esther for the clue?"

"Of course I am. After losing the book and the key, the clue might be our only hope of finding the treasure and getting redemption for all."

"I agree. At least it's a start." Lorrie pushed open the door, allowing Sebastian and James to enter.

Madeline, exhausted, slumped over in the chair and fell fast asleep.

Lorrie's gasp echoed through the room, her eyes widening in disbelief. Esther, their only hope, was nowhere to be seen.
*****

CHAPTER 29

Having slipped out of the carriage house, Esther darted through the mansion's dark corridors, her heart racing as she feared someone or something might intercept her before she reached William. With every creak or subtle noise, she pressed herself against the damp, dark walls or retreated into the shadows until she felt safe continuing her journey.

Arriving at William's door, her relief was short-lived, replaced by a new worry — could Sebastian or James be waiting? Or worse yet — were the demons inside? She pressed her ear against the door, listening. The room was silent except for William's faint breathing. Gathering her courage, she turned the handle, her eyes scanning the room before she rushed to William's side.

A single oil lamp burned near William's bedside. The air was heavy with the scent of dried flowers and old books. The wooden floors creaked as she hurried across the room. Outside, the distant howl of the wind intensified the haunting silence that shrouded the mansion, heightening her fear.

Esther knelt beside William, her translucent fingers trembling as they hovered above his hand. The faint glow of her form illuminated the shadows that clung to the corners of the room, casting an ethereal light on his still face.

Her voice, a mere whisper in the silence, cracked with raw emotion. "William, it's Esther." She waited, her heart beating wildly, for a response that didn't come. "I'm afraid —" Her eyes darted around the room. Her voice filled with desperation as she begged him, "Help me!"

She paused, her body trembling, the shimmer of her form fading. She desperately needed William to give her a sign.

Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears as she spoke again, "I fear I'm lost in some mad dream, and when I wake, you will be with Victoria. I thought losing you once was unbearable, but to lose you again — that would be a torture I could not endure."

William's eyelids fluttered, and his pale, thin lips quivered as if he were struggling to speak, giving her a spark of hope. The aura surrounding her brightened as she found new strength, her arms aching to embrace him.

"I met our grandson today. He looked just like you when we were younger. I understand why you would be so proud of him. And Will —" A tear glistened as it trickled down her face. "You did an amazing job raising him."

Her eyes traced the contours of his face, committing every detail to memory. "I can't bear the thought of losing you again. You're my anchor, the reason I still have hope. If I hold on to the clue, it would be a selfish move, and I would likely never receive redemption. But if I give it to them —"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her hand finally settled on his, her touch barely more than a ghostly caress. "I love you, William. I always have, and I always will. But I'm so scared. Scared that surrendering this clue means surrendering you, surrendering us. I don't know if I have the strength to do it."

She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing his ear. "Please wake up, William. I need you. We all need you. Guide me, tell me what to do. Without you, I am lost."

William's eyes opened, and a low moan escaped his lips. Esther moved closer, afraid she was upsetting him. "I'm sorry, darling." As she gazed into his sunken eyes, she knew the answer. Ashamed, she looked away, then murmured, "I can't keep redemption from you or the others. It was — is your treasure and means to salvation, not mine. Forgive me for even thinking —" Her glow faded as she wailed, "Please, forgive me."

He turned to look at her disappearing shadow. His voice was grave and weak, but he strained to speak, "Don't — cry."

Overjoyed, her eyes met his as she whispered, "I love you." The warm glow in his eyes told her he felt the same way.

*****

Sebastian combed every inch of the mansion, desperately searching for Esther while the others gathered in the study. With Madeline's help, Lorrie busied herself in the kitchen, preparing tea and morsels of sandwiches and sweet pastries.
 
James paced the room, periodically stopping to stare out the window, fearing the ominous cloud of evil spirits might grow or, worse yet, plan an attack. Luckily, they seemed to have retreated for the moment, but he couldn't shake off the tension in the air. A heated conversation erupted among the others. Their voices rose and fell as they debated what actions needed to be taken.

The men settled around the oak table, its polished surface gleaming in the fireplace's warm glow. The crackling of the logs filled the room as the women brought trays of food and beverages into the study. James, his face etched with worry, joined them, taking a seat at the head of the table. He sighed heavily and then addressed the group, "Calm down. We need to keep our wits about us."

Benny was the first to voice his frustrations. His voice was loud and angry. "What we need to do is get that clue from Esther. She has no right —"

"Benny!" Ryan shouted. "Acting like a bunch of vigilantes won't get us redemption."

"Look at the clues, Detective." Benny's voice was filled with accusations. "She's probably searching for the treasure as we speak. And her newfound buddy is probably in on it, too!"

Madeline dropped the tray of sandwiches and gasped, "How dare you! You're no better than me. You were nothing but a murderer!"

Lorrie's frustration boiled over as she slammed her tray against the table. "Stop it! Don't you see this is what the evil ones hope for — to have you fighting among yourselves?"

Hushed murmuring drifted around the table until James spoke. "We have to believe Sebastian will find Esther, and she will give us the clue. However, without the book and the key, I don't know how much good it will do us."

"It was a mistake to involve the mortals!" Benny snarled.

"I agree!"

All eyes shifted to the doorway, where a voice interrupted their discussion.

"Sandra — Tim — we weren't aware —"

Not waiting for her father, Sandra marched across the room toward the men, her eyes filled with anger. "Obviously!" She glanced around the table and continued, "I never asked to be involved. I was living my life in the city, and I was happy. It was you — a collection of misfits, murderers, and who knows what else." She paused and took a deep breath, fighting to control her anger. "You concocted the plan to trick me into coming here. You needed my help. Initially, I thought the story was a hoax. I never believed in ghosts or spirits — or whatever you call yourselves." Overwhelmed with emotion, she gasped for air.

"Sandra —"

Lorrie laid her hand on James's arm. "No, let her speak. She has earned the right."

Sandra's eyes softened as she glanced at the housekeeper, remembering her kindness. Lowering her voice, she continued, "I've had brushes with death, been threatened, and even drugged."

Lorrie hurried to Sandra's side, assuming her grandmotherly role. "Child, we all worry about your safety." She cast a frown in Tim's direction. "My tea was meant to calm your nerves, nothing more."

Sandra smiled at Lorrie. "I know. You've been so kind to me since the day I met you. But that changes nothing."

James stood in the dimly lit room, looked at the ethereal forms seated at the table, and then spoke to Sandra. "You are right. We shouldn't have involved a mortal. It's not your fight, and I understand —"

"I'm afraid you don't understand, James." Tim's translucent form moved closer to his daughter, emitting a radiant glow that grew brighter and brighter. "Though I've done my best to persuade her, she refuses to give up. She feels responsible for losing the book —"

"That was Victoria's doing, not hers. She couldn't have stopped her." James shook his head wearily. "Come, join us. Lorrie and Madeline have prepared a nice spread for us. It's not often that we can partake in a mortal meal."

Sandra instinctively moved closer to Madeline and wrapped her arm around her trembling shoulders. "You need my help, and I'm willing to stay, but neither Madeline nor I should be treated like outsiders. Either we do this together, or you can do it alone."

Benny's darkened form slowly changed to a softer glimmer as he rose from his chair. "I'm out of the habit of apologizing. I overstepped and shouldn't have said what I did."

Sandra looked at Madeline and then at Benny. "We've all made mistakes. Let's try to work as a team from now on. From what my father told me, we must stick together."

The sudden slamming of the back door and voices yelling turned everyone's attention toward the kitchen as Billy and Will burst into the room.

Breathless, Billy waved a moss-covered book in the air as he triumphantly yelled, "We found something!"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 30
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 30

By Begin Again

THE ENDING OF CHAPTER 29

"I'm afraid you don't understand, James." Tim's translucent form moved closer to his daughter, emitting a radiant glow that grew brighter and brighter. "Though I've done my best to persuade her, she refuses to give up. She feels responsible for losing the book —"

"That was Victoria's doing, not hers. She couldn't have stopped her." James shook his head wearily. "Come, join us. Lorrie and Madeline have prepared a nice spread for us. It's not often that we can partake in a mortal meal."

Sandra instinctively moved closer to Madeline and wrapped her arm around her trembling shoulders. "You need my help, and I'm willing to stay, but neither Madeline nor I should be treated like outsiders. Either we do this together, or you can do it alone."

Benny's darkened form slowly changed to a softer glimmer as he rose from his chair. "I'm out of the habit of apologizing. I overstepped and shouldn't have said what I did."

Sandra looked at Madeline and then at Benny. "We've all made mistakes. Let's try to work as a team from now on. From what my father told me, we must stick together."

The sudden slamming of the back door and voices yelling turned everyone's attention toward the kitchen as Billy and Will burst into the room.

Breathless, Billy waved a moss-covered book in the air as he triumphantly yelled, "We found something!"
 
*****

CHAPTER 30

As Billy gently placed the book, its cover green with a layer of moss, on the table and opened it, a hush fell over the room. The pages, marked with drawings of stick people, animals, and other childish scribblings, seemed to hold a secret, their faded lines whisperings of days long ago.

"Is this —" Sandra leaned closer to look at the book. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she stared at the pages.

"A copy of my grandfather's book? I think so, or at least a good part of it." Billy's voice was filled with excitement yet laced with sadness and memories of the past. The book was more than a collection of pages to him. It was a precious link to his family's history and lost moments with his grandfather.

"How did you find it?" Having searched the vast mansion for years, Madeline wondered where it had been hidden.

"When I was sitting with Grandfather, I thought he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't make sense of his words. I thought he was telling me to go forth, you know, like to continue the search. But I finally figured it out when he mumbled words like fish and secret. He was trying to remind me about my childhood fort where he and I would go fishing." Billy's eyes softened as memories flooded his thoughts. "It was our secret spot, a hidden place that only we would go."

Understanding his son's emotional struggle, Will added, "It's been years since Billy had been there, and the landscape had changed drastically. We walked along the riverbank for hours before discovering the fort hidden in the undergrowth. He remembers sitting there for hours, amusing himself by drawing in the old book while my father fished."

James peered over Will's shoulder. "Are the pages legible?"

"I believe so. Many of the pages have been exposed to the elements, and green moss has crept between the pages on some of them, but for the most part, we can decipher what Grandfather wrote."

Relieved for the moment, James patted Billy on the back. "Good work. And if I'm not mistaken, I believe Esther has brought us what she thinks might be our first clue." Sighing, he lowered his lanky body into his chair. Relaxing, he took a large bite of one of Lorrie's sandwiches, clearly enjoying it. Little did he know, this clue was the beginning of a much bigger, more dangerous puzzle.

Billy turned eagerly to Esther and Sebastian. "Is that right? You might have a clue?"

Still wary of everyone, Esther stood behind Sebastian. When her grandson addressed her, she moved from Sebastian's shadow and faced Billy. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, they both understood the weight of the task ahead — the sense of family and not being alone washed over her.

Benny shouted, unable to let sleeping dogs lie, "Why'd you hide from us?"

Sebastian prevented Esther from replying by answering himself. "She wasn't hiding, Benny. She merely wanted to check on William, for which you and everyone else should be grateful. He opened his eyes and spoke to her."

A smile spread across Billy's face. "Is that true? Is Grandfather awake?"

Esther's face softened, and she smiled. "It was only a few words, but I understood he wanted me to bring you the clue."

Madeline pressed closer to her friend. "Don't be afraid. We're all in this together."

Esther's fading form brightened as she smiled at her mortal friend. "I hope you didn't think I deserted you."

"Never!" Madeline assured her.

Esther stretched out her hand, giving Madeline a scrap of paper. "You should read it to them."

"Are you sure? You're responsible for understanding what William was trying to say."

"I'm sure. It's because of you that I found William again. It's right that we share it."

Madeline took the paper, her hands trembling with anticipation, and read aloud, "Follow the bloodline to save future generations." The cryptic words hung in the air, their meaning yet to be fully understood.

Will's excitement showed in the brilliant glow surrounding his ethereal form. "Father was always talking to me about our ancestry. I remember he had a grandfather who fought in the Civil War. Could he be referring to him or one of our other ancestors?"

Sandra's eyes sparkled with curiosity and determination. "A military man! What better place to start." She turned to James. "Are there pictures or documents somewhere in the mansion? Mementos of the Parker ancestry, maybe."

"There are pictures in every room of the mansion, but I have no idea who they are. It will take months to research each one."

Gaining courage, Esther joined the conversation. "I saw one of William in Madeline's room." A soft glow glimmered and surrounded her form as she thought of William and how much she loved him.

Will's eyes lit up. "If father's grandfather is the one we are looking for, it shouldn't be too hard. He's a tall man dressed in a uniform. When my father spoke of him, he was always so proud, but what he remembered most was his funny mustache and a triangular hat he wore."

Excited, Billy said, "I remember Grandfather showing me that picture. He wore a long coat buttoned at his waist and a silk scarf around his neck." Billy laughed, his voice filled with fond memories. "He had this strange-looking white wig on his head. As a kid, I thought it was a mop."

Sandra's eyes widened. "I'm not sure, but I thought I saw a wall of pictures in the ballroom, and several were in uniforms." The memory of the dimly lit ballroom, with its soaring ceilings and ornate chandeliers, came flooding back to her. She shivered involuntarily at the thought of what they might find there. Icy fingers of fear strummed her spine as snippets of the evil spirits nagged in her memory. Lorrie's tea hadn't erased everything.

"In the ballroom? Where Victoria —" Madeline wailed, letting her voice trail off in fear.

All eyes turned to stare at James as Sandra gasped, "Oh, James, we can't return there."
 
He slowly returned his sandwich to his plate, his face a mask of dread, and stared at the table, his mind wrestling with the decision.

A few moments passed before James took a deep breath, his ghostly form shimmering with tension. "We have no choice. If the clue is there, we must face whatever lurks in the ballroom."

Madeline gripped Esther's hand, her resolve hardening despite her trembling body. "We go together. We need to stay united if we plan to face the demons, discover the treasure, and find your redemption."

Sebastian beamed, his celestial light casting a warm glow over the group. "I can protect you from the evil spirits, but my power will be short-lived. You must have a well-thought-out plan and act quickly. Most likely, they will be expecting you."

"Of course, you're right, Sebastian. The men will go, and the women can stay behind. It's safer, and they can look over the book for further clues." James leaned his head against the back of his chair. "No sense risking everyone's chances."

Believing he'd made the final decision, he pushed his chair back and stood, moving toward one of the more comfortable lounge chairs. "As Sebastian said, we need a well-thought-out plan. Do you men have any suggestions? I know there are serious risks, so think long and hard before joining the search. I don't expect any of you men to jeopardize yourselves if you don't feel you can follow through, knowing what happened to Victoria."

An eerie silence fell over the room as his words sank in. Lorrie's eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she busied her hands, twisting and untwisting her apron. Her short, stout body was trembling with indignation. She stepped out of the kitchen doorway, her ghostly form shimmering with anger.

"How dare you, James!" Her English accent added a sharp edge to her words as she approached him, waving her finger in his face. "For a hundred years, I 'ave stood by your side, facing whatever danger or trial came to the mansion, just as you 'ave. Just because you be wearin' the britches, you'll not be changing things because you deem it to be so."

James opened his mouth to protest, but Lorrie cut him off, her voice rising. "I'll not be treated like a delicate flower plucked from the rose garden. I 'ave as much right to see this through as any of you. And probably more than most."

Her eyes blazed with determination, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Sandra stepped to Lorrie's side, wrapping her arm around Lorrie's shoulders.

"She's right, James. Isn't that why you hired me?"

"Now — wait — a minute," James stammered. "You were hired to figure out the clues and return the property if and when we found it. Not to be put at risk with the evil ones."

"You thought you hired a secretary?" Sandra's voice filled with anger. "I'm a crime investigator. I don't sit at a desk and mull over a stack of papers."

"I didn't mean —" James rolled his eyes, frustrated. "It's just that —"

"Save your breath, James." Tim's eyes were focused on his daughter as he spoke. "I warned you she wouldn't stand back idle if the going got tough."

"Regardless of how terrified I might be, I need to do this for Noah." Madeline's eyes shifted away from the others to a portrait of Noah and her hanging above the fireplace. "In some way, it might make amends for my past."

James looked at the three women, their combined determination making it clear that his plan would not be the one of choice. His resolve wavered, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Anyone object to the women going to the ballroom with us?"

Billy turned and looked at his father, then addressed the group. "Entering the ballroom is like entering the devil's domain. It will be extremely dangerous, but I agree that everyone has the right to go or stay. It should be a personal decision, and no one should assume they have the right to make it for them."

Will nodded and added, "If my memory is correct, there's a line of portraits circling the ballroom. With enough people, we should be able to quickly check for a man in uniform and retreat, hopefully with the portrait in hand. How long do you think we will have Sebastian?"

"Five, six minutes at the most. You'll need to separate, each taking a portion of the room. You'll have to move fast because the demons will be seething and ready to attack."

Having remained quiet during their discussion, Esther finally found her voice and asked, "What about you, Sebastian? You said five or six minutes. What happens if you are protecting us and —" Her voice quivered, and she stopped, unable to put her thoughts into words.

Billy finished her sentence. "She's right. You're putting yourself at risk, and it's not your fight."

The glow surrounding Sebastian's celestial being shimmered brighter than ever before as he spoke, "The council chose me to guide you in this search. I do it with the faith that my Shepherd will protect me from the evil demons. I shall walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I will fear no evil, for He is with me. His rod and staff will comfort me."

Benny murmured softly, "Amen."

Lorrie nodded, her anger cooling but her resolve unshaken. "We do this together," she said firmly, still waving her finger for emphasis. "All of us."

"Alright, alright," he conceded, his tone softening. "You win. But we must all be careful. This might be our only chance."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 31
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 31

By Begin Again

END OF CHAP. 30

Will nodded and added, "If my memory is correct, there's a line of portraits circling the ballroom. With enough people, we should be able to quickly check for a man in uniform and retreat, hopefully with the portrait in hand. How long do you think we will have, Sebastian?"

"Five, six minutes at the most. You'll need to separate, each taking a portion of the room. You'll have to move fast because the demons will be seething and ready to attack."

Having remained quiet during their discussion, Esther finally found her voice and asked, "What about you, Sebastian? You said five for six minutes. What happens if you are protecting us and —" Her voice quivered, and she stopped, unable to put her thoughts into words.

Billy finished her sentence. "She's right. You're putting yourself at risk, and it's not your fight."

The glow surrounding Sebastian's celestial being shimmered brighter than ever before as he spoke, "The council chose me to guide you in this search. I do it with the faith that my Shepherd will protect me from the evil demons. I shall walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I will fear no evil, for He is with me. His rod and staff will comfort me."

Benny murmured, "Amen."

Lorrie nodded, her anger cooling, but her resolve unshaken. "We do this together," she said firmly, still waving her finger for emphasis. "All of us."

"Alright, alright," he conceded, his tone softening. "You win. But we must all be careful. This might be our only chance."

*****

CHAPTER 31

Lorrie busied herself in the kitchen, baking fresh pastries and a pot of hot coffee, trying to control her mounting anxiety. The smell of butter and sugar filled the air, mingling with the tension in the air. Different scenarios of what might happen today swirled through her mind, each more unsettling than the last.

The rich aroma wafted throughout the house, drawing everyone to the dining room, where there seemed to be little conversation. Small groups huddled together, murmuring occasionally as they waited nervously.

Sebastian saw Esther enter the room, and he immediately went to her side. "Esther, I need you to stay behind with William today," he said urgently.

"But everyone —" Her eyes scanned the room, focusing on those she had grown close to. "I can't —" Her voice trailed off, her face a mask of worry.

Sebastian's smile faded. "William needs someone with him. If left alone, the demons might target him," he explained, his voice grave.

Esther gasped, her translucent form fading slightly. "Sebastian, I don't have the power to defend us."

Sebastian took her hand and pressed a gold crucifix into her palm. "But he does. You will be safe, I promise," he assured her, his eyes full of conviction.

Trembling, she closed her fingers around the cross and nodded, trusting Sebastian's word despite her fears.

"Go — be with him. You've waited so long to be by his side. He needs you, and maybe he will share another clue. I'll come to you as soon as we return."

Still doubtful, she searched for Madeline, but she hadn't arrived yet. Sebastian understood and added, "I'll tell her I've asked you to stay with William. Madeline will understand."

Esther nodded and slipped out of the dining room, stopping at the doorway to glance at the people willing to risk their lives for her family and the others. Sighing, she hurried through the mansion hallways back to the man she loved.

*****

Standing at the top of the staircase, James looked at each person, reading facial expressions and assessing their true feelings about entering the mansion's bowels.

"Before we open the door and descend the staircase, I want everyone to think hard and long about what we are doing. There are no promises of the outcome if the demons attack. Sebastian has only the power he was given and nothing more. If you turn back, it's your right, and no one will think less of you."

A few murmurs drifted through the group, but no one stepped away. Satisfied, James opened the heavy door and started his descent. The steep, narrow staircase appeared to disappear as they entered the darkness.

Sandra and Madeline remained close to Lorrie, whose flashlight cast eerie shadows on the walls. The others followed close behind, their footsteps echoing ominously.

As they reached the bottom, both mortal women reached for each other's hand as flashbacks of their last journey down this hallway rushed through their minds. Though she didn't remember the actual loss of Victoria, a sickening feeling filled Sandra's stomach, praying none of them would meet that same fate.

Sebastian stood closest to the door outside the grand entrance to the ballroom. His celestial presence created a protective barrier against the howling and whispering demons lurking in the shadows, forewarning each of them of what awaited inside.

Sebastian, standing tall and radiant, his celestial light cutting through the gloom, gave a final nod to the group. "Remember, we have five minutes. Stay close and trust each other, but time is of the essence."

He placed his hand on the doorknob, turned it, and opened the doors, revealing the long-forgotten ballroom. Dust particles danced in the faint beams of light. The once magnificent chandeliers hung precariously, their crystals dulled by years of neglect. Torn draperies moved as an unseen breeze crossed the room, and the temperature plummeted. The furniture lay upside down. Scattered ashes covered the marble floor, remnants of Victoria's effort to burn the book before her demise. The sound of hissing and whispers grew louder.

As he stepped into the ballroom, Sebastian's light intensified. He raised his hands in the air, his voice resonating with divine authority. "Stop! By the power of my Lord, I forbid you to pass." The demons recoiled, hissing and writhing into distorted shapes, but they did not retreat.

James ushered the group into the room, rattling off instructions. "The ladies can check the area to the left. Benny and Ryan take the section to my right. Will, Billy, and I will move to the far side."

Everyone fanned out, their eyes scanning the portraits on the walls, grabbing any with a man in uniform. There wasn't time to check each one, so when their arms were full, they raced into the hallway, dropped them on the floor, and then returned to their hunt.

With her keen eye for detail, Lorrie spotted a large ornate frame partially hidden by fallen drapery. As she struggled to remove it from the wall, she called to the others, her breath visible in the frigid air. "Over here."

Madeline and Sandra rushed to her side. The three women fought to remove the painting of a stern-looking man in a Civil War uniform from the wall. His eyes seemed to follow them, silently witnessing the unfolding drama.

Sensing their excitement, the evil spirits began frantically swirling in the shadows. Some tested Sebastian's power as they passed his barrier, staying close to the vaulted ceiling. Sinister laughter echoed off the walls, sending chills through everyone.

James, usually the one to act, hesitated, his eyes darting between the swarming demons, Sebastian, and the women with the portrait. His voice shaking, he called to Sebastian, "Is there time?"

Concentrating on keeping the demons at bay, Sebastian failed to answer. James yelled to the others, "Time's running out."

Benny, materializing and then fading away, fought to steady himself as he rushed toward the women. He pointed at the wall, yelling, "There's something behind it."

Billy and Will joined them. With a swift pull, the men loosened the anchors holding it, revealing an old, rusted lockbox inside a hole in the wall.

Suddenly, the room vibrated, and the walls shook violently, crumbling in places. The demons surged forward, their dark forms becoming more defined and menacing. Sebastian's light wavered under the assault, and the group felt the icy grip of fear tightening around them.

"We need to open it!" Lorrie shouted, fumbling with the box. Her hands, usually so steady, shook violently.

Sebastian strained to hold back the dark forces and screamed, hoping to be heard above the demons' howling. "Hurry! I can't hold them much longer!"

With a burst of adrenaline, Sandra grabbed a nearby brass candlestick and slammed it against the lock. The box sprung open, revealing a key and an ancient, tattered letter. "This must be it!" she exclaimed.

The demons made a final, desperate push as the group retrieved the contents. The flames from the fireplace came alive, their seering tips flicking like wild tongues, extending into the room. The hisses and howling built to an ear-piercing crescendo as the dark shadows wiped above them near the ceiling, dipping closer with each moment.

Sebastian, his light now blindingly bright, unleashed a wave of energy, forcing the evil spirits back. "Go! Now!" he commanded.

The group, clutching the key and letter, raced towards the doorway. The ballroom walls seemed to close in on them, the shadows stretching and grasping. They reach the hallway, hearts pounding and the sounds of the demons' rage echoing behind them. They collapsed outside the ballroom, gasping for breath, their bodies trembling from the ordeal.

Lorrie screamed as she looked behind her. "Where's Sebastian? We can't leave him." Terrified, she cried, "We've got to go back."

Struggling for air, she pushed herself off the floor, but James grabbed her arm, holding her back. "You're not a match for the demons, Lorrie, and neither am I."

Sobbing as she leaned against him, she moaned, "We can't leave him, James. We can't."

"She's right." The men raced back toward the ballroom as the howling intensified. Plaster fell from the walls, and the ballroom door slammed shut. Billy and Will pushed against it, but it wouldn't open. Both men stared into each other's eyes, feeling defeated even though they'd found the first clue.
 

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 32
The Unwilling Heir - chap 32

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAP 31
The demons made a final, desperate push as the group retrieved the contents. The flames from the fireplace came alive, their seering tips flicking like wild tongues, extending into the room. The hisses and howling built to an ear-piercing crescendo as the dark shadows wiped above them near the ceiling, dipping closer with each moment.

Sebastian, his light now blindingly bright, unleashed a wave of energy, forcing the evil spirits back. "Go! Now!" he commanded.

The group, clutching the key and letter, raced towards the doorway. The ballroom walls seemed to close in on them, the shadows stretching and grasping. They reach the hallway, hearts pounding and the sounds of the demons' rage echoing behind them. They collapsed outside the ballroom, gasping for breath, their bodies trembling from the ordeal.

Lorrie screamed as she looked behind her. "Where's Sebastian? We can't leave him." Terrified, she cried, "We've got to go back."

Struggling for air, she pushed herself off the floor, but James grabbed her arm, holding her back. "You're not a match for the demons, Lorrie, and neither am I."

Sobbing as she leaned against him, she moaned, "We can't leave him, James. We can't."

"She's right." The men raced back toward the ballroom as the howling intensified. Plaster fell from the walls, and the ballroom door slammed shut. Billy and Will pushed against it, but it wouldn't open. Both men stared into each other's eyes, feeling defeated even though they'd found the first clue.

*****

CHAPTER 32

Shadows writhed and twisted as they danced across the walls. Sinister beings, their forms barely discernible, loomed in the corners and near the room's ceiling. Esther clung to William's hand, her heart racing and her eyes wide with terror. Squeezing Sebastian's cross tightly in her left hand, she reached out to William, her voice quivering, "William, my love, I need you. Please, I beg you, wake up."
 
An icy gust of wind swept through the room, causing the curtains to billow and the candle to sputter. Esther's body trembled. Her eyes darted around the room and then back to William. "The others have gone to the ballroom to retrieve the portrait, but without you —"

Her head snapped up, her eyes scanning the room. The once-distant howling had escalated to a deafening crescendo, and Esther could feel the demons' presence, their energy growing stronger. She knew they were there to intimidate and drive her away from William.

"I'll not leave his side," she yelled, with very little conviction. "I believe Sebastian. He says we are safe."

The shadows grew darker, and the air thickened. She swallowed hard, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. Holding the cross, she repeated, "Sebastian says you can't harm us. This cross will keep you at bay."

High-pitched laughter echoed around the room, cruel and mocking. A voice hissed, "Sebastian cannot save you. He is not here."

The mansion's walls shuddered, and the demonic howling reached an agitated state. Pictures fell from the wall, and a bookcase with all its decaying books toppled over, landing a mere few feet from William's bedside.

As the shadows closed in, Esther gripped the cross tighter and screamed, "Sebastian!" Her cry rang with desperation as it echoed throughout the mansion.

*****

James and the others strained against the heavy door, desperate to open it. They pushed and pulled on the door, but it would not budge.

"It's stuck!" James's eyes widened with fear. "Something or someone is holding it shut."

Billy yelled, "Sebastian, can you hear me?"

The howling and screaming grew deafening. Large chunks of plaster fell from the hallway ceiling, and heavy dust filtered through the gaping cracks around the door, making breathing difficult. Coughing and gasping for air, James pounded his fist against the door and called out, "Sebastian!"

Lorrie pointed at the doorknob. "It's opening."

A blinding light pierced through the narrow opening as the door moved, revealing Sebastian, his white robe torn and blackened, but his celestial form glowed. Behind him, a swarm of shadowy figures, writhing and twisting, snarled as they tried to overpower him.

Horrified, Madeline screamed, "We've got to get out of here."

Sandra nodded, "Go, Madeline, run. We'll follow you."

As soon as Sebastian cleared the threshold, a sudden silence fell over the ballroom. The howling and screaming ceased abruptly. He slammed the door closed, leaning breathlessly against it.

The mansion's floors creaked and groaned underfoot, and the plaster crumbled around them. Sebastian's glow brightened as he laid his hands on the wooden doors. "Your darkness can't withstand the light. This place will not hold you anymore. Your souls are condemned to the house of Satan."

The ballroom trembled violently, and its foundation gave way as the structure collapsed, sending shockwaves through the air. The thick dust and debris filled the hallway, obscuring everything in sight.

Lorrie's eyes widened with fear as she yelled, her voice trembling, "What's happening?"

James's voice rose above the chaos as the walls cracked and crumbled. "The ballroom is collapsing. We've got to get out of here."

From inside the ballroom, the remaining demons let out a chorus of despair and rage. The ceiling buckled, sending large chunks of debris crashing down. The floor split open like a gaping wound, and the ballroom imploded, engulfing everything in a cloud of dust and rubble. The oppressive darkness faded gradually, leaving a hazy light in its wake.

As the group escaped up the staircase, an eerie silence covered the destruction they'd narrowly escaped.

******

At the top of the stairs, glorious rays of sunlight filtered through the windows like a new dawn, offering hope to the group as they wearily trudged up the stairs.

"We made it!" Sandra gasped, her voice filled with overwhelming relief.

Will leaned his great grandfather's portrait against the wall as the other men joined him, choking and shaking their heads in disbelief.

Lorrie, exhausted, sagged against a wall, her stout body heaving as she gasped for air. She clutched the contents of the lockbox in her grip as if it were life itself.

Madeline stood beside her, disheveled and covered with a thick layer of dust. "What about Esther and William?" she turned to Sebastian, her voice quivering. "Are they okay?"

Sebastian, his celestial glow dimming as he recovered, nodded. "I must get back to them. The demons have weakened, but they are not all gone."

*****

Esther's eyes widened with fear as she screamed again, "Sebastian, help us!"

Darkness engulfed almost the entire room when a brilliant ball of light suddenly appeared next to William's bed. In seconds, it grew in size, and Sebastian appeared. His voice was powerful and unwavering as he spoke. "You have no power here. You've been sentenced to damnation."

Most of the demons faded into the walls instantly, but a few recoiled yet remained, their glowing eyes dimming beneath Sebastian's celestial glow as they hissed. Yet, one by one, they vanished into the shadows, dissolving into the air.

Astounded by Sebastian's power over the demons, Esther gaped as she looked around the room. "Your — words — chased — them away."

"Not my words, but the power of our faith." Sebastian smiled at Esther. "You were brave to stay with William."

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "Thank you, Sebastian. I couldn't have done this without you." She opened her hand and stared at the cross she clutched before handing it to Sebastian.

"No — it is yours to protect you and William through eternity."

Esther's shimmering shadow glowed as she materialized into her earthly form. A sense of hope filled her being. The long-lost beauty of yesteryear etched her face, and her slim frame straightened with determination. She smiled. "We can do this. You and the others will make it possible."

"We will do this — with William's help." His glow brightened as he moved closer to William and held his hand. "My friend, you are a fighter, and now it's time to help the others complete what you started long ago. It's time to heal."

A low groan slipped from William's lips, drawing Esther's immediate attention. Her heart pounded as she stared at the man she'd loved so long ago. His body was quiet and lay still, but something was different.

Esther caressed his face, her touch tender and loving. "William, you can do this. Come back to us —" Her voice lowered to a whisper as she leaned closer to him. "To me — please, William, come back to me."

Slowly, as if responding to her plea, William's fingers twitched, and then his eyelids fluttered until he opened his eyes.

As their eyes locked, a wave of emotions she'd locked away a long time ago flushed through her, and she cried, "William — my sweet William — you're awake."

The air shimmered with energy, and Esther recognized the spark in his eyes as he fought to return to them. His voice was barely audible as he stared into her eyes. "Esther?"

"Yes, William, it's me."

Still slightly disoriented, his eyes drifted around the room, taking in Sebastian's glowing form and returning to Esther. "Is it over?" A sadness crept into his eyes as he asked, "Did I fail?"

Esther's head snapped toward Sebastian. "What do I tell him?"

Sebastian knelt beside William's bed before he spoke. "Even in your unconscious state, my friend, you brought everyone closer to redemption. They have the first clue — the portrait. Unfortunately, Victoria made the wrong choices and paid a price." He smiled. "But you did not fail."

William reached for Esther's trembling hand. "And you — you stayed by my side after all I have done?"

"Shhh — save your strength, William. The others need you." Esther tried to comfort him.

"The others?"

Esther's glow grew brighter as her heart filled with love. "I met Will and Billy."

William smiled as he struggled to prop himself on his elbows. "You saw both of them?"

"Yes, they are here to help us find your hidden treasures."

William's eyes shifted to Sebastian. "You mean — it's not too late?"

"It's never too late, William." As his celestial form disappeared, his voice remained, "Now it's up to you."

*****

In the dining room, Lorrie quickly set wash basins of warm water, towels, and soap on the table, allowing everyone, especially Madeline and Sandra, to wipe away the dust and debris covering their bodies.

The men gathered together and, taking great care, opened the letter they'd found in the lockbox. The thin paper threatened to crumble when touched, and the ink had faded. Will laid it on the table, gently smoothing the creases.

A chorus of questions sprang from the group. "What's it say, Will? "Does it tell us where the treasure is?" Is it a clue or not?"

Will looked at the paper and then shook his head. "I can't read it. It's written in Italian, I think."

Billy moved around the table, stepping closer to Will's side. Peering over his shoulder, Billy studied the paper. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher the words. "That's grandfather's writing."

James looked at the paper and then at Billy. "Are you sure?"

Billy nodded. "He raised me. He was a stickler for me learning to write properly and to read."

"But — this is in Italian."

"Our ancestry originated in Italy. I was schooled on our heritage for many long nights. Grandfather was proud of who we were and wanted me to remember it all."

Will's voice was a mere murmur when he spoke to Billy. "He must have been very proud of you. My youth was wasted on riding horses, hiking in the mountains for weeks, and falling in love. My death —"

Billy grabbed his father's arm. "Your death was a tragic accident. Grandfather spoke highly of you, and his grief was deep."

Frustrated, Benny yelled, "But what does he say about the treasure?"

Will's eyes glistened as he smiled at his son. Turning back to the table, he asked, "Can you read this?"

Billy studied the paper. "I'm not sure. My Italian could be better, but he is writing about our heritage. He wrote — Mio figlio, il professore, torna a casa — which roughly means he's talking about his son, the professor."

"That doesn't make sense. I wasn't a professor."

Sandra joined the men. "Maybe, since your grandfather hid the letter with the portrait, he is referring to the general's son."

Will laughed, "Nice one, Sandra. Show up the guys."

A bright red flush covered Sandra's cheeks. "I wasn't —"

Billy laughed, too. "I think he's teasing you, Sandra. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Oh, sorry." Sandra glanced at the men. "I'm here to help, right?"

The men responded in unison, "Right!"

Wanting to take the attention off her, Sandra asked, "Can you read any more of it, Billy?"

"I think he's talking about a friend, but he names a place, not a person. It says - la biblioteca è tua amica, meaning the library is your friend." Billy sighed and studied the end of the paper. "There's a funny scribbling drawn at the bottom, and beneath the drawing, it says - Le risposte arrivano dal libro. Answers come from the book."

Still impatient, Benny complained, "Why so cryptic? When someone gave me a job, it was simple. A name and get it done."

Billy nodded at his friend. "I know, but Grandfather didn't know who would find this letter. He had no idea if it would be us."

"What's the scribbling look like, Billy? Is it a map of something? And what book has the answers?" James pulled out a chair and lowered himself into it. "Are we any closer than we were?"

Still staring at the letter, Sandra asked Billy, "What does that drawing look like to you?"

Billy stared at it and then laughed. "I might have drawn that as a kid or something very similar. It's a boot." His eyes met Sandra's, and then he added, "It's Italy. He wants us to find a book about Italy in the library."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being


Chapter 33
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 33

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 32
Wanting to take the attention off her, Sandra asked, "Can you read any more of it, Billy?"

"I think he's talking about a friend, but he names a place, not a person. It says - la biblioteca tua amica, meaning the library is your friend." Billy sighed and studied the end of the paper. "There's a funny scribbling drawn at the bottom, and beneath the drawing, it says - Le risposte arrivano dal libro. Answers come from the book."

Still impatient, Benny complained, "Why so cryptic? When someone gave me a job, it was simple. A name and get it done."

Billy nodded at his friend. "I know, but Grandfather didn't know who would find this letter. He had no idea if it would be us."

"What's the scribbling look like, Billy? Is it a map of something? And what book has the answers?" James pulled out a chair and lowered himself into it. "Are we any closer than we were?"

Still staring at the letter, Sandra asked Billy, "What does that drawing look like to you?"

Billy stared at it and then laughed. "I might have drawn that as a kid or something very similar. It's a boot." His eyes met Sandra's, and then he added, "It's Italy. He wants us to find a book about Italy in the library."

*****

Chapter 33

While things were calming down at the mansion and the group prepared to search for the next clue, rumblings among the city's seedier residents were ramping up. Rumors were rampant, dredging up old legends about Judge Parker and the mansion. A few of them had been repeated and shared with underworld crime boss Frankie Saladino and his number one guy, Louie Frisella.

*****

The yellow cab left the city's congested streets behind and maneuvered through the narrow streets of Little Italy. Nearing his passenger's destination, Pauli glanced into his rearview mirror and asked, "Round back, Mr. Frisella?"

"Naw, just drop me off at the curb, Pauli." Louie leaned forward and pushed a Benjamin into the driver's hand, his gaze sweeping the familiar neighborhood. He smiled as he opened the cab door, "Keep the meter running, Pauli. It's going to be a good night."

As he stepped onto the sidewalk, a group of local kids playing marbles paused to watch him, nodding and showing their respect. One of them, a scrappy boy with a missing tooth, called out, "Hey, Mr. Frisella, you gonna win big tonight?"

Louie chuckled, flashing a grin. "You bet, kid. I'm feeling lucky." He reached into his pocket, found a stray twenty, and tossed it into their marbles. "Go have some ice cream on me!" Louie continued his walk, laughing as he heard the boys shrieking with joy.

Louie Frisella, a made-man and right arm of Frankie Saladino, embodied old-world toughness, with a square jawline and piercing eyes. His dark hair, meticulously combed back, revealed a hint of salt-and-pepper at the temples. His tailored suit hugged his frame, paired with polished shoes that clicked with authority against the pavement. A Rolex peeked out from beneath his cuff.

He strolled past the tiny neighborhood shops, Vinny's butcher shop, Mama Sicily's Cafe, and numerous others, nodding to the owners who stood in their doorways, exchanging the daily gossip. One of them waved and called out, "Evening, Louie. Frankie's waiting for ya."

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment, his pace quickening as he approached Luigi's bar. The neon sign flickered against the window, barely visible among the posters and beer signs taped to the dirt-covered glass.

Inside the dimly lit bar, the air was heavy with the scent of aged whiskey and cigar smoke. One couple, lost in their own world, swayed to a slow song on the jukebox.

Faded photographs of bygone gangsters, their stern faces staring at the patrons, decorated the walls. The furniture, worn and leather-clad, had patches of duct tape holding one or two pieces together. The bar was a weathered oak, scarred from years of use and abuse.

A group of forty-something guys huddled over a game of poker, their expressions guarded and their stakes high. A lone figure nursed a drink at the bar, casting quick glances around the room. The other tables buzzed with conversation and clinking glasses.

Louie made his way to the poker table, where the guys were deep into a game. By the looks of the pot, more than one person thought they had the winning hand. Someone was going home a happy man tonight.

"Hey, Louie, pull up a chair!" Tony, a burly man with a thick mustache, grinned as he studied his cards.

"We'll go easy on ya," Marco, a wiry man with a sharp wit, quipped as he tossed in his bet.

Louie laughed, recalling how he'd cleaned house the last time, and they wouldn't play with him for weeks. "I got a meet with the big guy. Besides, I wouldn't want to send you home to the wife with empty pockets." Laughter rounded the table as he headed to the back of the room.

Making a quick stop at the end of the bar, he exchanged a few words with Jimmy, the bartender, and then walked down a narrow hallway. Halfway from the back exit door, he stopped near a mirror and checked his hair. He glanced around to ensure no prying eyes were watching. With a practiced hand, he touched the edge of the mirror, opening a secret entrance.

The transition from Luigi's to the 1920 speakeasy was immediate — the smooth jazz, the soft lighting, and the air of luxury and money. Louie spotted Frankie at his private booth and made his way over, sliding across the leather seat.

Out of nowhere, a waitress arrived, placing a Manhattan with a little ice in front of each man. She smiled at Louie. "Nice to see you. It's been a while since you've been in."

Louie glanced at his boss and grinned. Nodding his head toward Frankie, he chuckled. "The boss keeps me busy."

Once she left the table, Frankie sipped his drink and wasted no time questioning Louie, "So, what's been on your mind? You look a little green around the gills, my friend."

"Women!" Louie glanced nervously around the room, which was totally out of character for him. "You can't live with them, and you can't live without them."

"What? Maria giving you what's for again about getting married?"

"Oh, no! Something like that — I tune her out till she's done moaning and groaning." Louie chuckled. "It's best to put on a basketball game, load up with a six-pack, and don't say a thing."

"Well, then, spill it. What's got you walking around, looking like you expect Manuel's crew to break in the place and start shooting it up?"

"Maria's been having these dreams. Premonitions, I think she called it."

Frankie raised his eyebrow, his curiosity aroused. "Premonitions? About what?"

Louie leaned across the table, lowering his voice. "About that old mansion up on the hill. She says something big is gonna happen there. Something bad."

Frankie signaled the waitress for another round as he finished his drink. "Ah, come on, Louie. You're not buying into that psychic mumbo-jumbo, are you? We're not in some fairy tale."

"I know, boss. But Maria's never been wrong about these things. Remember when she warned us about the cops raiding the warehouse last year? She saved our hides, for sure."

Frankie nodded his head from side to side, cracking his neck as he considered what his guy was telling him. "Alright, let's say I humor you. What's supposed to happen at that mansion? Last I heard, the rumor was it was haunted. Are the ghosts throwing a party?"

"Come on, Frankie. I'm telling you we need to take Maria seriously. She's not sure what's going down, but she's got this gut feeling. It makes her restless, and she walks the floor at night, praying and begging me to stay clear of the place."

Frankie shrugged, "Maybe Maria's onto something. We can't afford to ignore potential threats. Keep your ears to the ground and see if anyone else is talking about it."

Marco, another of Frankie's boys, approached the table. "Hey, boss, you got a minute?"

Frankie motioned for Marco to join them and then waved to the waitress to bring more drinks. "What's on your mind, Marco? Did you lose too much money at tonight's poker game?"

Louie reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold money clip. "I can spot you a few hundred if you need it."

"No, no. I did just fine at the poker game." Marco glanced nervously around the room before he continued. "It's just that there's been this guy sitting alone at the bar most of the night."

Louie nodded. "Baseball cap and cowboy boots. Yeah, I noticed him when I came in. He seemed nervous."

"That's the guy. Well, another guy joined him while we were playing our last hand. Since no one was at the bar and Jimmy was busy stocking the liquor, they talked a little loud."

"About what? Did Jimmy hear anything?" Both men stared expectantly at Marco.

"Yeah, he did. That's why I came back here to tell you guys about it."

Frank sighed, "Marco, we've got enough trouble without getting involved in two strangers' beef."

"That's just it, Frankie. It involves us in a way."

Louie smelled trouble, and he narrowed in on Marco. "Spit it out, now. What's the deal?"

"You remember back in the day when Judge Parker pulled the strings on this part of town?"

"Of course, who hasn't heard the stories? He was a clever man and disappeared with a fortune, so they say."

Marco grinned, nodding excitedly. "Exactly! Word on the street was that nobody found his stash. It was worth millions. Gold, cash, art, diamonds, you name it."

"The guy took a bullet to his head for his efforts, if I recall. Someone killed him and his grandson."

Marco had Frankie's attention now. "I know they tried to pin it on us for a while but couldn't find any evidence." He finished his drink and asked, "But what were these guys fighting about?"

"The second guy was trying to get the guy in the baseball cap to join his crew. He said he could get in on the ground floor of a million-dollar heist. Jimmy couldn't hear everything but said it was something about checking out the mansion. The first guy wanted nothing to do with it. Jimmy says the guy kept saying the place was haunted, and he wasn't going anywhere near it."

Louie's eyes widened. "You mean there's a heist worth millions going down, and someone else beat us to it? Is it Manuel's guys?"

Marco shrugged. "I don't know. The guy in the cowboy boots and cap paid his tab, and they left."

Louie looked across the table, trying to read his boss's mind. "What do you think? Maybe Maria's not the only one with a bad feeling about that place."

Frankie thought for a moment, then leaned forward. "Alright, let's find out who these guys are and what they're planning. If there's a treasure in that mansion, we can't afford to let anyone else get their hands on it."

Louie nodded at his boss and then gave Marco instructions. "Get a crew together, and we'll go up there and scope out the place. We'll use the limos and meet in the cemetery. We can make it look like a funeral."

"Got it!" Marco stood and grinned at Frankie. "Consider that treasure already in your hands, boss." He turned to Louie. "See ya in the morning. Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Frankie watched Marco walk away before turning back to Louie. "He's too cocky. Keep an eye on him because if something better comes along, he's liable to take it."

Frankie signaled the waitress for another round of drinks, a determined look on his face. "Time to get to work. If a fortune is hidden in that mansion, it will be ours."

Louie lifted his glass and drank, but his mind was mulling over Frankie's remark about Marco. Frank had a good feel for people and if he thought Marco might jump the fence, he knew he had better keep a close eye on the guy. He looked across the table at his boss and said, "To tomorrow!"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew


Chapter 34
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 34

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 33
Frankie thought for a moment, then leaned forward. "Alright, let's find out who these guys are and what they're planning. If there's a treasure in that mansion, we can't afford to let anyone else get their hands on it."

Louie nodded at his boss and then gave Marco instructions. "Get a crew together, and we'll go up there and scope out the place. We'll use the limos and meet in the cemetery. We can make it look like a funeral."

"Got it!" Marco stood and grinned at Frankie. "Consider that treasure already in your hands, boss." He turned to Louie. "See ya in the morning. Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Frankie watched Marco walk away before turning back to Louie. "He's too cocky. Keep an eye on him because if something better comes along, he's liable to take it."

Frankie signaled the waitress for another round of drinks, a determined look on his face. "Time to get to work. If a fortune is hidden in that mansion, it will be ours."

Louie lifted his glass and drank, but his mind was mulling over Frankie's remark about Marco. Frank had a good feel for people and if he thought Marco might jump the fence, he knew he had better keep a close eye on the guy. He looked across the table at his boss and said, "To tomorrow!"
*****

CHAPTER 34
Madeline, tormented by a sleepless night of regret and longing for Noah, had slipped out of the house unnoticed. The weather mirrored her mood, with overcast skies that threatened rain, even a distant rumble of thunder now and then. Her aimless wandering had led her to Noah's gravestone, a stark reminder of the void in her heart.

Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered the day they'd laid Noah's body to rest. She felt consumed by a deep shame and remorse for the spiteful things she had done, cheating on Noah and publicly defaming him and Sandra in front of their friends.

"Oh, Noah, I made so many mistakes," she whispered softly. "Why couldn't I see how much you loved me? And Sandra — that poor girl must have thought I was a lunatic attacking her, accusing her of being your mistress."

Her voice cracked, and she reached out, tracing the letters of his name etched into the stone. "I know you aren't here, but I hope you can hear me. I miss you so much."

Her thoughts drifted to what she thought was a frightful dream when Noah's spirit visited her. "I can't stop thinking about how you held me so close, if only in my dreams. I was terrified, but in those few moments, I felt safe again."

Unable to hold back her tears, she cried, "Noah, please forgive me. I need you beside me. I want you to hold me again and tell me everything will be okay."

*****

On the far hill, closer to the mansion, Esther, searching for her friend, watched a hearse followed by several black limos slowly enter the cemetery gates and wind their way up the hill. She watched as a group of men in dark suits exited the vehicles and carried a casket toward a freshly dug grave. She'd witnessed this scene unfolding many times, but these men seemed different, too deliberate and mechanical in their actions.

Knowing they could not see her, she stealthily stepped from behind the bushes and moved closer as the procession stopped and lowered the casket to the ground. Much to her horror, her eyes widened as she stared at the open casket. Instead of a body, it held an array of dangerous weapons — guns, explosives, ammunition, and shovels."

Louis, being the man in charge, held up a rolled paper. "Compliments of the Judge and my late-night visit to his offices, we are privy to the original architectural plans for the mansion. His endeavors in life, much like ours, prompted him to build secret passageways and tunnels into the mansion. Passageways that he used to smuggle millions of dollars of stolen goods, I might add. Today, gentlemen, we reclaim what's rightfully ours. I'm told two women currently occupy the house, so our task shouldn't be too difficult."

Esther stepped back as she realized the man was talking about William. Then she gasped as she also realized Madeline and Sandra were in danger. She did not know if the men could fend off these thugs. She needed to warn them, but she couldn't leave Madeline out here alone. Frantically, she scanned the cemetery, spotting her friend at Noah's gravesite.

In seconds, she stood beside Madeline, keeping her eyes on the men in the distance. "Madeline, you are in danger."

Her voice startled her friend, who bolted off the ground, gasping when she realized it was Esther. "Esther, that's not funny." Madeline wiped her face, brushing away the telltale tears. "I was trying to reach Noah."

Esther's body shimmered as she pointed across the grassy hill. "See those men. They aren't here for a burial."

Madeline looked toward where Esther was pointing. "Looks like a funeral to me."

"The casket is filled with guns. I heard them talking. They have plans to sneak into the mansion through secret tunnels and steal the treasure.

"We've got to warn the others."

"You, my friend, are in danger. You need to get out of here before they see you."

"Who you talking to, lady?" The gangster growled as he stepped from behind the cluster of trees.

Madeline stammered, "My — my husband." She pointed at Noah's headstone. "Who — are you?" Terrified, Madeline's eyes darted to Esther and then back to the man.

"Sounds like you wanted to warn someone about something. Sorry, but I think that's going to have to wait."

Esther screamed, "Run, Madeline."

The man heard her voice but couldn't see anyone. "What the heck?" Confused, he looked for the person it belonged to, but no one was there.

Madeline took the opportunity and turned to run, her heart racing inside her chest. She didn't get far before muscular hands pulled her back.

"Where do you think you're going, lady?" The gangster growled as his grip tightened on her arm.

Madeline struggled, fear coursing through her. "Let me go! I need to warn my friends."

He chuckled, almost amused by her efforts to get away. "We can't have you doing that."

From the shadows, Esther watched the scene unfold, her ghostly form blending into the hazy mist. Her heart ached for Madeline, but her spectral nature rendered her powerless to intervene directly.

As Marcos dragged Madeline, kicking and screaming, up the hill toward the others, Esther drifted closer, her ghostly presence invisible. Madeline, tears streaming down her face, looked back toward Noah's grave, silently pleading for his help.

Esther's form flickered as she concentrated, sending a chill through the air, momentarily startling the gangsters.

Louie shouted to Marcos. "Who you got there?"

"She's the owner's mistress. Found her at his grave, telling him she had to warn the others. Do you think there might be more than the women in the house?"

Suddenly, the sky opened up with a loud clap of thunder. A heavy downpour and powerful gusts of wind whipped across the cemetery, drenching the men.

Louie snapped out orders, "Shove her in the car and follow me to the tunnels. We can sort this out better inside."

Marcos pushed Madeline into the back seat while the others scrambled into the cars.

As they sped away, Esther realized she'd had some powerful help in her failed attempt to stop the gangsters. She felt his presence before he appeared. "Sebastian!"

"No time to talk, Esther. We need to get back to the mansion to warn them."

"What about Madeline? They took her."

"I know. Let's deal with one thing at a time. They won't harm her if they think they can use her as leverage to get what they want."

"I can't leave her, Sebastian. We don't even know where they are going."

"Okay, you go to the house and tell the others. I will see where they went. Now go!"

Esther's shadow faded as Sebastian's light disappeared. *******

As the limos sped down the winding gravel road leading toward the back of the mansion, Madeline cowered in the backseat, her eyes darting between the two burly men sitting on each side of her.

"You don't have to do this, you know? Whatever it is you want, just take it?" Madeline hoped to discover if they, too, were searching for William's treasure and she needed a way to escape.

The guy to her right leaned toward her, squeezing her face with his hand. "Listen up! Either shut your mouth, or you're going to find yourself on the side of the road." He paused, and as his face moved closer to hers, he growled, "Dead!"

The other men in the car laughed, and Madeline shivered, praying Esther would warn the men, and somehow, they would save her.
*****

The tension inside the mansion was already high as they scoured every book in the library, brushing off layers of dust as they searched for the next clue. James, his mind racing, paced around the room while Lorrie and Sandra prepared tea and breakfast pastries, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

Suddenly, the temperature plummeted, and a chilling gust of wind swept through the room. Benny, hanging from a library ladder, looked down at the others and asked, "Did anyone else feel that?"

Ryan answered, "Yeah, it's colder than it was. Someone's joined us."

James stopped pacing and spun around, checking out the entire room. "Who's there?" he demanded, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow.

Esther struggled to materialize. Her fear for Madeline had drained her to the point it was an effort to speak. Her form was dim, barely shimmering in the shadows of the library.

Benny spotted her shadow first, yelling, "Over there — by the window."

James rushed toward the figure, recognizing the cross Sebastian had given her. "It's Esther. I think something has traumatized her."

Lorrie and Sandra entered the room, carrying the trays of tea and pastries. Lorrie set her tray on the table and rushed to James's side. "Esther, it's okay. We're all here. Try to calm yourself."

As Esther's faint outline took shape, she whispered, her voice barely audible, "Madeline — danger — taken." Her few words hung in the air.

Sandra's eyes widened in alarm. "Esther, is Madeline in trouble?"

Growing stronger, she nodded as James questioned her. "Where is she? The garden? Or in the wildflowers?"

Esther nodded and pointed toward the cemetery, muttering, "Noah."

Sandra gasped, "I think she is trying to tell us that Madeline was at Noah's grave."

Talk of Noah's grave caught Tim's attention, and he quickly added, "I saw a small funeral over there this morning. Maybe they saw something. Billy and I can go ask."

With every strength she could muster, Esther wailed, "Nooooo!"

At that moment, Sebastian appeared in the center of the room, moving quickly to Esther's side. A wave of his hand over Esther's barely visible shadow brought light to it, and she materialized fully.

Trembling, she tried to speak. "They took her."

Realizing something terrible was happening, James shouted, "Who took her?"

Sebastian touched Esther's arm. "It's okay, Esther." Then he turned to face the group. "For the time being, Madeline is alright. It appears serious trouble is looming for the mansion and all of you."

Billy stepped forward. "What's going on, Sebastian? Can you tell us?"

"Yes, I can tell you, though I have limited powers to provide much help." He turned to check on Esther before continuing. "Frankie Saladino, the man who serves in the same position that William once held, has heard rumors about the treasure and has come to claim it. His associate, Louie Frisella, has found the original plans of the mansion and has learned of underground tunnels and passageways."

James glanced at Sandra and muttered, "The outside knows." Her eyes flared with terror as she realized what that meant for her, the mansion, and everyone inside.

Billy stormed out of the room, shouting, "I've got to talk to Grandfather."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew


Chapter 35
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 35

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 34
At that moment, Sebastian appeared in the center of the room, moving quickly to Esther's side. A wave of his hand over Esther's barely visible shadow brought light to it, and she materialized fully.

Trembling, she tried to speak. "They took her."

Realizing something terrible was happening, James shouted, "Who took her?"

Sebastian touched Esther's arm. "It's okay, Esther." Then he turned to face the group. "For the time being, Madeline is alright. It appears serious trouble is looming for the mansion and all of you."

Billy stepped forward. "What's going on, Sebastian? Can you tell us?"

"Yes, I can tell you, though I have limited powers to provide much help." He turned to check on Esther before continuing. "Frankie Saladino, the man who serves in the same position. "Frankie Saladino, the man who serves in the same position that William once held, has heard rumors about the treasure and has come to claim it. His associate, Louie Frisella, has found the original plans of the mansion and has learned of underground tunnels and passageways."

James glanced at Sandra and muttered, "The outside knows." Her eyes flared with terror as she realized what that meant for her, the mansion, and everyone inside.

Billy stormed out of the room, shouting, "I've got to talk to Grandfather."
*****
 
CHAPTER 35
 
"Grandfather!" Billy's voice carried across the room as he hurried to William's bedside. He stopped, stunned, because it was empty. His eyes widened, and his ethereal form dimmed as he imagined the demons, or possibly even the mobsters, had somehow found him. Frantic, he raced back to the door and called down the hallway, "Grandfather!"

Billy's unease increased with each moment he darted through the corridors, searching for any sign of his grandfather. Every passing second felt like an eternity as worry gnawed at his ethereal being.

"Grandfather!" Billy called out frantically, his voice carrying through the ancient halls.

No response came, only the faint whispers of other spirits floating in the shadows. Slumping against the wall, he muttered to himself, "Please don't let the demons have him."

A distant echo, sounds of creaking floors above, and voices caught his attention. Pressing himself into the shadows, he moved along the walls toward the staircase, checking each alcove or darkened corner. With each step, his worry grew, fueled by the uncertainty of his grandfather's whereabouts.

As he reached the top of the staircase, a flicker of movement caught his eye — a shadowy figure disappearing around the corner. Billy's earthly figure faded, returning to its translucent form. His ethereal form gave him the element of surprise if it was one of the mortals.

Slowly, he glided down the dimly lit corridor, hugging the wall, until he reached the corner where he stopped and listened, then peered into the next hall.

Several figures huddled together about twenty feet away in a darkened alcove. Billy strained to hear their conversation. A wave of relief washed over him as he recognized one of the voices. "Esther?"

Surprised, Esther jumped at the sound of Billy's voice and stepped out of the shadows to face him. "Billy, you startled me. What are you doing here?"

His eyes focused on the shadowy figures behind her. As their earthly forms faded, he realized they were not mortals. "I was looking for grandfather. Are you alright?"

Esther nodded and turned away, addressing the emptiness that had replaced the men she had been talking to previously. With an urgent ring in her voice, she called, "Vinny! Vinny! Come back. This is William's grandson."

A dark shadow glimmered faintly and then took form. A man in his late forties, close to Billy's age, materialized but remained in the darkened alcove.

"It's okay, Vinny. Please tell him what you told me," Esther pleaded, then let her eyes focus on Billy once again. "Vinny and others were in the cemetery today and saw Louie and Marco. They saw them take Madeline, but there was nothing they could do."

Billy moved closer to Esther, protectively reaching for her. "It's not safe for you to be alone — Grandmother."

Her form shimmered and brightened at the sound of Billy's voice calling her grandmother. "It's okay, Billy. Vinny is an old friend of your grandfather's and mine. He means me no harm."

"And Grandfather? He's not in his room."

"I know. William insisted on speaking with the other ones — friends from his past who understand his mission."

"But — he's not strong enough. What if —"

"Calm yourself, Billy. Vinny has sent others with him, and your grandfather is highly regarded among his old friends. He's safe. Our urgent concern is Madeline. Those men from the cemetery won't show her any mercy."

Vinny finally stepped out of the shadows so Billy could see him. "They've sealed her in an old water tower and have turned on the water, slowly filling the tank."

Alarmed, Billy gasped, "They're drowning her." When Vinny nodded, his eyes widened, and he shouted, "We've got to save her! Can you take me to her?"

"Yes, but it's being guarded. You can't go alone."

Billy's mind raced as he thought about Madeline and how to rescue her.

"Time's running out, Billy," Esther cried. "You need to go for help."

"There's no time. We have no idea how fast the tank will fill with water." He rubbed his temples and then spoke, his voice filled with doubt. "Grandfather taught me to call for him through concentration. I've not done it for a very long time, but it's worth a try."

"Do it, Billy, before she drowns."

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated. As he drew on his energy, his earthly form faded, not as a whole, but piece by piece like a puzzle. Gasping, he opened his eyes. "I can't. These walls are too thick. My energy isn't strong enough."

Esther grabbed his hand. "We'll do it together. Pull from my energy. I know you can do it."

Billy tightened his hold on Esther's hand, inhaling and closing his eyes again. The hallway crackled, shooting sparks of electricity around them. Narrowing his thoughts to his friend's face, Billy called out, "Benny, I need you. Madeline needs you. Can you hear me?" His voice trembled with urgency, depending on the bond they shared.

There was no response. Frustration gnawed at him.

Esther squeezed his hand. "You can do it, Billy. Don't give up. Try again."

He could feel the drain on his field of energy. Shaking his head, he muttered, "I don't think I can."

Having experienced nothing like this, Vinny was skeptical, but if William had taught Billy, then it must be feasible. He moved closer to Esther and Billy, extending his hand. "Can I help?"

The three joined hands, and Billy pressed against the wall, concentrating as hard as he could. Bolts of energy shot across the hallway, bouncing off the walls, picture frames, and light fixtures. The crackling sound intensified.

"Benny, put down that glass of bourbon. I need you now."

Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the hallway. Slowly, Benny materialized, his translucent form flickering, gaining strength and then fading. Then, when the three thought they couldn't endure the energy pull anymore, he appeared, looking annoyed but still holding his glass of bourbon.

His first words broke the tension. "This better be good. You owe me a bottle of bourbon, my friend."

Still weak, Billy dropped his head to his chest, chuckling. "You're a tough one, my friend."

Benny's face darkened as he saw Esther and Vinny, someone he'd crossed paths with in a prior life. "What's going on?"

Sensing the friction, Billy wasted no time. "Louie's sealed Madeline in a water tower and is filling it with water. Vinny knows where she is."

"And what does he get out of it?" Benny scowled at Vinny. "I remember in the past, everything had a price."

"Just like you, Benny, I'm different now. I want to help."

Benny's eyes shifted to Billy and then back to Vinny. "Old habits die hard."

Vinny looked directly into Benny's eyes. "I'm doing this for William. He asked me to help."

Billy nodded. "Grandfather is with some others now, trying to make a plan. We can't waste any more time if we are going to save Madeline. Are you in?"

Benny nodded, extending his hand to Vinny. "I'm in!"

Billy wasted no time. "We need to save Madeline."

Benny's face darkened. "Where is she?"

"Vinny saw them take her. He'll lead us there."

As they hurried through the mansion's shadowy corridors, Billy couldn't help but feel desperate with every second that ticked by. They followed Vinny through the winding corridors until they reached a hidden door. Vinny pressed his hands along the wall, causing a stone to shift and reveal a secret passage. As they entered the passage, the sound of running water and Madeline's desperate splashes echoed through the dark tunnel.

"Stay close and stay quiet," Vinny whispered, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger.

Reaching the water tower, they saw the two men standing guard.

The water was already waist-high, and Madeline's terrified screams filled the air. Billy's ethereal form flickered with anger.

"We need to distract them," Benny whispered.

Billy nodded, determination hardening his features. "Let's cause some chaos."

Vinny focused his energy on a nearby chandelier, causing it to sway violently before crashing to the ground. The gangsters froze, their faces showing their fear.

"What the hell was that?" one of them shouted.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Benny glided forward and sent a cold shiver through one of the men. The man screamed, waving his arms in the air. "Something touched me!"

Chuckling, Benny touched his companion, who followed suit by screaming and waving his arms. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting out of here. This place is haunted!"

"I'm with you." They both ran down the corridor, leaving the water tower unguarded.

Billy and Benny rushed to the water tower's door, pushing and tugging on it. "We can't open it!" Billy exclaimed.

"There's a window at the top," Vinny pointed out.

Quickly, they stacked old barrels and crates to reach the window so Madeline would have something to climb down on after they rescued her. Benny pounded on the rusty latch, but it refused to budge.

"Grab one of those rocks. I'll have to break the glass."

Madeline's frantic cries echoed. Esther called out to her friend. "Madeline, it's Esther. Watch out for the breaking glass above you. The boys are going to shatter the window so they can get you out."

"Hurry! The water's getting deep."

Benny yelled, "Cover your eyes. I'm smashing the window now." The sound of shattering glass echoed against the water tank.

Esther had found a rope and tossed it up to Benny. Billy scrambled to the top of the makeshift structure and leaned through the broken window. It was a black pit inside.

Pulling his bead out, he looked at Benny. "She'll never see the rope. I'll have to go inside."

Benny nodded as Billy's ethereal form faded. "You better hurry, my friend. If I recall, you didn't breathe so well underwater."

Billy chuckled, and his translucent form slipped through the window, descending to Madeline.

"Grab the rope, Madeline!" Billy shouted.

Madeline, gasping and exhausted, managed to grab the rope. She screamed when Billy reached out and touched her.

"It's me. Billy. I'm going to help hoist you up to the window while Benny and Vinny pull from their end. Okay?"

Madeline's eyes were wide with terror, but she managed to nod.

With all their combined strength, they pulled her up, inch by inch, until she was safely out of the water. She wiggled through the window with the help of Billy, collapsing into Benny's arms. She shivered violently and coughed, spewing water from her lungs.

Esther, her spirit glowing, smiled at her friend. "You're safe now, Madeline."

Vinny chimed in. "Not just yet. Those guys might come back with reinforcements. We need to get her out of here."

As they moved to a safer part of the mansion, Billy cast a final glance at the water tower, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their battle was far from over. But for now, they had saved Madeline, and that was a victory he would cherish.

Author Notes andra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past


Chapter 36
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 36

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 35

"Grab the rope, Madeline!" Billy shouted.

Madeline, gasping and exhausted, managed to grab the rope. She screamed when Billy reached out and touched her.

"It's me. Billy. I'm going to help hoist you up to the window while Benny and Vinny pull from their end. Okay?"

Madeline's eyes were wide with terror, but she managed to nod.

With all their combined strength, they pulled her up, inch by inch, until she was safely out of the water. She wiggled through the window with the help of Billy, collapsing into Benny's arms. She shivered violently and coughed, spewing water from her lungs.

Esther, her spirit glowing, smiled at her friend. "You're safe now, Madeline."

Vinny chimed in. "Not just yet. Those guys might come back with reinforcements. We need to get her out of here."

As they moved to a safer part of the mansion, Billy cast a final glance at the water tower, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their battle was far from over. But for now, they had saved Madeline, and that was a victory he would cherish.
 
*****
 
CHAPTER 36
 
Lorrie bustled around Madeline's bedroom, checking and rechecking the doors, windows, — and closets. Her short, stout figure bubbled with energy despite the late hour and all the tension in the mansion.

"Now, dear, this tea will do wonders to settle your nerves," she coaxed, attempting to place the porcelain cup in Madeline's trembling hands.

She shook her head and pushed the cup away. "I can't sleep, Lorrie." Her eyes, wide with fear, were fixed on the ceiling. Her mind was a whirlwind of horrifying images—the water tank, the freezing water, the menacing gangsters, the panic, and the desperate struggle to breathe —each thought a chilling reminder of the imminent peril still lurking within the mansion walls. "What if they come back?" Madeline whispered hoarsely, clutching the bedcovers tightly to her chest.

Esther's ethereal form shimmered as she moved to her friend's side. Her voice was soothing as she tried to reassure Madeline. "You're safe now. After the scare the boys gave them, they've probably left the mansion and headed for the city by now."

Madeline struggled to smile at her friend, shaking her head back and forth. "You're wrong, Esther. I heard them bragging about how they had the original floor plans for the mansion and how taking the treasure would be a piece of cake. They even joked how they would booby trap the place so that everyone in the mansion would die, lost in the collapsing rubble." As Madeline's anxiety grew, her body trembled, and her voice cracked, "It's all been for nothing, Esther. You and the rest won't be saved."

Esther's fears were also high, but for Madeline's sake, she tried to appear calm and confident. "Madeline, please, drink some of Lorrie's tea. You need to calm yourself."

Lorrie offered the teacup again. "Just a few sips, child. It won't keep you under for long, but it's enough to allow you to gather your strength." She murmured, "Esther and I are here with you. You're safe."

"No, none of us are safe, Lorrie. You need to tell the others. Maybe there's something they can do."

"Of course, dear. I'm sure Benny is talking to them right now, and they are figuring it all out. After you drink the tea and settle down, Esther and I will go and check. Okay?"

Madeline's eyes widened. "No! Please don't leave me alone. They might come while I am asleep, and I'll never wake up."

A soft breeze drifted through the room, though the windows were closed. Madeline turned her head slightly, feeling a familiar warmth envelop her, a sensation she associated with Noah's presence. She blinked, and there he was, standing by her bedside with a tender smile.

"Noah," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You won't be alone, my love." He took the cup from Lorrie and pressed it to Madeline's lips. "Drink, rest, and I'll watch over you."

As she gazed into his eyes, memories of their shared love washed over her, replacing her fears and panic. She sipped Lorrie's brew and felt its effect as a gentle peace filled her body.

Noah's gaze was tender and full of love as he looked at Madeline's slumbering face. "I won't leave her," he murmured. "Regardless of the past, she's changed. I still love her, and I always will."

Lorrie placed a translucent hand on his shoulder, remembering those first days when Noah had arrived at the mansion with his new bride. Noah's words touched Esther as she remembered when she first saw William again and the rush of emotions that had overwhelmed her.

"We'll leave the two of you alone for a while. Esther should go to William, and I will see if the others are still in the study. Maybe they have devised a plan already."

"Yes, I've been gone from William for a long time today. He believes his newfound strength is a miraculous cure, forgetting he's still a very old man despite being a spirit."

The women shared a knowing look, their laughter tinged with fear about their future. They left the room, each with a destination in mind, prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

*****

As Noah stood at her side, Madeline stirred in her sleep, sensing his presence. He reached out, his hand brushing her cheek. "Madeline," he whispered, his voice filled with love.

From her subconscious state, she spoke, "Noah, I'm so afraid." A solitary tear escaped the glistening ones beneath her eyelids.

Noah knelt beside her, his ethereal hand touching hers. "I know, my love. But you're not alone. I'll be here with you always."

"Promise me, Noah."

He gently raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her. "I promise. We will be together always."

With his words echoing in her mind, Madeline slipped into a peaceful slumber.

*****

After the dramatic rescue of Madeline, Billy rushed to his grandfather's room, praying he had safely returned. As he hurried through the door, yelling, "Grandfather!" he stopped, knocking the heavy door into the wall. He was taken aback when he saw William and a stranger sharing a glass of brandy and chatting like old friends. The man's face was familiar, but Billy didn't recall who he was.

The noise from the wooden door had brought both men to their feet, prepared for a confrontation if necessary. William broke the tension in the room first as he eyed his grandson.

"Billy, did I not teach you any manners when you were growing up? Barging into my private quarters as if someone had set you on fire."

Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly chuckled, his spectral form shimmering in the dimly lit room. "Always the gruff one, William. Can't you see the boy has something important to say?"

"Forgive me for worrying about you! You were missing. Madeline was kidnapped. We've got bad company in the mansion. Possibly ancestors of your enemies." Billy lowered his voice. "I couldn't find you, Grandfather."

"See, William, aren't you ashamed for reprimanding the boy? He was only concerned for your welfare."

"Humph! He's a carrier of old news." William grinned at his friend and then turned to Billy. "I might be old and no longer of the living, but I walk with a big stick."

William's friend scoffed, "It's your cane."

The two men shared a hearty laugh, their friendship evident. Then, William sighed, "Thanks to my old friend here — you were a young boy, but do you remember Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly? He served on the Police Force and allowed me to spar with him now and then."

Billy nodded. "I remembered his face but not his name, but now that you introduced us, I recall he's Jack O'Reilly's grandfather."

"You know my grandson?" A warm glow filled the man's eyes. "I hear he walks in my footsteps. As a matter of fact, I've been told he does a far better job of it, too."

"You should be proud. He got framed for something he didn't do and refused to hang the department out to dry. After a bit of maneuvering, I was able to make it all disappear. From then on, Jack and I were best friends."

Patrick smiled at William. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I see." He added, speaking to Billy, "Thank you for whatever you did for my grandson."

"Not a problem, sir. Jack returned the favor and fished me out of the pond a time or two when things were getting rough."

"Great! That makes this a bit easier."

Billy looked confused. "Grandfather, what's going on? What's easier?"

"Patrick and I have discussed our options for handling our visitors with several men from the past. These guys are a new breed of gangsters and don't follow the same rules we did in our days. They aren't going to tuck their tails and run without giving it their best shot, especially with the fortune hidden in the bowels of the mansion."

"I don't know about that. The two guarding the water tower didn't take much convincing to abandon their post when we went looking for Madeline."

"Foot soldiers. They are just young guys trying to make a name for themselves. I'm talking about the guys at the top of the ladder. They didn't get there by being nice guys."

"So what are you suggesting, Grandfather?"

"We need to bring the real guns into play. You've got two mortals, Sandra and Madeline. These girls might be tougher than the broads of my day, but they will be no match up against the mob."

"Okay, we can't scare them away, and the girls can't battle them alone, so what do we do?"

"Actually, your friend, Ryan — he's the detective, right? Well, he suggested that we do a switch and bait."

"Ryan suggested it? Grandfather, don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but sometimes he can't remember his name. He was positive that he murdered Noah."

"All that might be true, but he came up with a good idea. We were in the study, trying to place a phone call, when Ryan came in and started talking to us. We told him Patrick was trying to enlist his grandson and his pals to come to the mansion to help — a little manly flesh and blood instead of yesterday's news spirits."

"Even if they come out here and chase the gangsters away, they can't arrest them for anything except maybe trespassing. They'll be out of jail in nothing flat and back out here again.

"You're probably right. That's where your friend, Ryan, comes in. He suggested that we fill one of those rooms in the cellar with old portraits and paintings, furniture, costume jewelry, kegs of wine —well, the idea is to let them believe they've found the treasure."

"You don't think these guys are smart enough to check out the stuff?"

"Sure they are. That's why you and Ryan will put on a stage show for a few of them. Patrick and a few others will supply some real stuff." William opened a drawer and pulled out a black case, opening it. "These were Victoria's, but since she's in no need of them anymore, we will use them as bait."

Billy couldn't believe his eyes as he stammered, "Those are real diamonds?"

"They most certainly are. And in the hands of the right men, it will turn them into vultures. They'll want to clear out the mansion as quickly as possible. They won't take the time to check all the kegs and boxes. If I'm not mistaken, the top dog will oversee the job but not do any hands-on stuff."

"I got it now. But what will prevent them from coming back once they realize they've been tricked?"

"I'm hoping that Sandra can go into the city, meet up with Patrick's grandson, and be back here in time to catch them as their trucks loaded with the stuff leave the property. Grand theft will carry a much bigger sentence and tie them up long enough for us to find the real treasure."

"You want to send Sandra. I like the girl, but how will she convince a city detective to join us? And what's the new local sheriff going to say about it?"

"I believe the convincing is going to fall on me." Patrick cleared his throat. "I've never been out of the mansion, but I'm willing to risk it all to see Jack and bring him back here to help all of us."

"Is it feasible, Grandfather? Can he leave purgatory?"

"According to Sebastian, with the council's permission, he can leave for twenty-four hours."

"What happens if they can't find Jack and get back here in time?"

William turned and stared at his friend. Patrick sighed. "No risk, no gain."

"But what are you risking?"

Patrick didn't answer. Instead, he retrieved his drink and let the liquor pour down his throat. "Let's just say I wouldn't be able to do that ever again."

"Drink brandy?"

"What he's not saying, Billy, is — if he fails, he will lose his chance at salvation."

"He'll be damned forever!" Billy exclaimed. "Grandfather, we can't let him sacrifice his chance for us."

"It's not your grandfather's choice, son. It's mine, and I've chosen to do it. Besides, I don't plan on failing. Now, someone better introduce me to this Sandra and see if she's up for the challenge."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick


Chapter 37
The UnWilling Heir - Chap 37

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 36

"Is it feasible, Grandfather? Can he leave purgatory?"

"According to Sebastian, with the council's permission, he can leave for twenty-four hours."

"What happens if they can't find Jack and get back here in time?"

William turned and stared at his friend. Patrick sighed. "No risk, no gain."

"But what are you risking?"

Patrick didn't answer. Instead, he retrieved his drink and let the liquor pour down his throat. "Let's just say I wouldn't be able to do that ever again."

"Drink brandy?"

"What he's not saying, Billy, is — if he fails, he will lose his chance at salvation."

"He'll be damned forever!" Billy exclaimed. "Grandfather, we can't let him sacrifice his chance for us."

"It's not your grandfather's choice, son. It's mine, and I've chosen to do it. Besides, I don't plan on failing. Now, someone better introduce me to this Sandra and see if she's up for the challenge."
*****

CHAPTER 37

"Are you sure you want to do this, Sandra?" Assuming his fatherly role, Tim addressed his daughter, showing concern.

Sandra's eyes swept around the study, taking in the worried faces of her friends. They'd all gathered together, expressing their worries about the mortals hiding in the tunnels and the plans to steal the treasure, not to mention any hope of redemption for each of them. The air was heavy with so many unspoken questions.

"She says she's ready." William's voice was confidant and firm. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought she couldn't do it."

"Grandfather's right. We hate to ask, but Sandra's our only hope."

"Enough!" Sandra's voice rang out, cutting through the tension in the air. She stood and faced all of them. "I'm not committing a crime or anything. I'm just driving to the city to ask for help. What could go wrong?"

Lorrie twisted her hands in her apron, moaning, "Now, you've gone and done it, deary. Never be asking what can go wrong, because you be giving someone an idea to mess with your plans." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and hurried toward the kitchen, muttering, "I need to bake something. It always helps."

As she disappeared, Billy turned to Sandra, his voice strained with urgency. "If you're going, you should get on the road. It's getting dark, and you want to get into my old office." William cleared his throat, chuckling. Billy raised an eyebrow and smiled as he continued, "Our old office while no one is around."

"But what about the doors? Won't they be locked?"

"Never fear. That's Patrick's job. He'll get you inside."

"Speaking of Patrick —"

"He's already waiting outside. He's excited about his first trip away from the mansion."

"You're sure he'll be okay. Nothing's going to happen to him, is it?"

Billy glanced furtively toward his grandfather before answering, "Patrick will be fine. Just make sure you are back here by this time tomorrow night."

"I just hope the police officer is still working the building. What's his name again?"

"Jack O'Reilly."

Sandra's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Any relationship to Patrick?"

Billy smiled and nodded. "Yes, Jack is Patrick's grandson."

"So, that's why he's going with me. I thought it would be you, Billy."

"Even though Jack is an old friend of mine, Patrick will have the necessary leverage for you to convince him to come."

"Well, I better get going then." Sandra grabbed her sweater from the chair and moved toward the door, whispering to Tim, "Don't worry, Dad. I'll be fine."

"It's my job — trying to make up for some lost time, I guess."

"I regret you weren't there, but now I understand it wasn't because you didn't want to be there for Mom and me." She smiled at him and left the room, heading for the car.

*****

The setting sun cast a warm, golden glow over the mansion's facade. The tall trees cast long, thin shadows across the porch and driveway. The porch boards creaked beneath the invisible footsteps as the ghosts gathered to watch Sandra and Patrick start their journey.

Sandra climbed into her car, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and waved out the window. She then put the car in reverse but immediately pressed on the brakes.

"Umm, Patrick, you are in the car, right?"

A deep chuckle exploded from the passenger seat as his body slowly materialized. "Sorry. Guess I wasn't quite prepared."

Sandra laughed and turned the car towards the city. "Here we go."

The winding road disappeared into the encroaching darkness. The trees seemed to close in, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The air was cool, the opposite of the warmth during the day. Things were changing, and not for the better.

A chill ran down Sandra's spine as she left the mansion behind. The car's headlights cut through the darkness, yet it barely seemed to illuminate the road. The sound of the engine faded as she rounded the first bend. She glanced in Patrick's direction and then returned her eyes to the road.
 
"Relax, Sandra. I expected a bit of a farewell from the demons."

Sandra's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "You think they'll try to stop us?"

"I'm sure of it, but we'll be okay." Patrick smiled and focused on the road ahead. "Time is of the essence, so maybe you could drive a little faster."

She pressed on the accelerator, and the car picked up speed. Sandra mumbled, "I don't remember so many trees hanging over the road and the road being so narrow. I don't want to get in an accident."

"You won't. Just keep your eyes on the road."

No sooner had Patrick spoken, Sandra rounded a curve and spotted a large tree blocking their way in the middle of the road.

She started to slow the car, panicking, "Should I turn around?"

Her eyes widened in fear as suddenly bodies began appearing on the road and surrounding the fallen tree. "Patrick, what now?"

She thought her passenger had lost all semblance of sanity as he laughed and shouted, "Floor it, girl! Drive through them!"

She hesitated, unable to grasp the possibility of driving through people and crashing into an enormous oak tree. "I'll kill them and us!"

Patrick laughed even louder, actually enjoying the moment. "You can't kill them. They are already dead."

Suddenly, Sandra felt the accelerator move under her foot, and the car lurched toward the spectral figures. "Hang on, Sandra. We're going for a wild ride."

Sandra screamed as she braced for impact. Instead, the spectral beings scattered into a misty haze, dissolving as the vehicle hurtled forward. The tree, another vision of her imagination, disappeared as well.

Breathing heavily, Sandra checked the rearview mirror. The road behind them was empty. "What just happened? There's no damage to the car — nothing. And we're fine!" She checked the sides of the road and all around the car. Everything was gone.

Patrick chuckled. "Reminds me of the good old days."

Still trying to absorb what had happened, she glanced at Patrick. "You crashed cars for a living?"

Patrick smirked, momentarily enjoying a flashback. "Not exactly. But my partner crashed quite a few while we chased the bad guys."

Sandra laughed as the tension eased. "Sounds as if you were right up there with the best of them, if this was an example."

"We did what we had to do. And so will you, Sandra. Keep going. How far do we have to go?"

"About thirty minutes." Sandra let the tension ease from her shoulders. "As long as we don't meet any other obstacles."

"We're safe, but it was fun while it lasted."

*****

The city was still buzzing with nighttime activity when Sandra passed her old office building and drove the few blocks to the Judge's office.

"Drive around the block and enter through the alley so you won't be seen."

"Sounds like you've done this before, Patrick.'

He shrugged. "A few times, I suppose. Especially when I visited William and didn't want anyone to see us together."

"Cut the lights and go slow."

"But I can't see. What if I hit something?"

"Trust me. I can see." Patrick pointed out a dark, secluded spot next to a garage. "Pull in there, and we can walk to the office building."

Once Sandra maneuvered the car into the spot, they climbed out and walked down the alley, staying close to the buildings. An orange tomcat foraging for food hissed and howled as they passed a few stinky garbage cans, but the rest of their walk was uneventful.

At the service entry, Patrick told Sandra to stand out of sight in the shadows.

"I'll be right back."

Sandra's eyes widened. "You're leaving me here? Where are you going?"

"Didn't I tell you to trust me?" Patrick chuckled.

"I do trust you, but not whatever else might be in this alley."

"Count to twenty. I'll have you inside before you know it." Before Sandra could protest, he was gone.

Unable to stop her trembling, she concentrated on counting — one, two, three. Something skittered past her shoes, causing her to catch her breath, but she was proud she hadn't screamed. As she reached twenty, the service door opened, and Patrick appeared. "See, I told you!"

"But how?"

"Don't ask. Some things are better that you don't know. It also helped that the owners never changed the alarm code. I shut it off, and you are now safe to proceed."

Sandra shook her head in disbelief. "Stairs or elevator?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm too old to climb all those stairs."

"But —"

Laughing, Patrick held the elevator door, bowing at his waist, "Madam, your chariot awaits."

******

The elevator stopped on the third floor, and its door automatically opened. Sandra stepped into the dimly lit hallway, checking both ways to see if anyone else was there.

Satisfied the hall was empty, she turned to ask Patrick if he could open the door. An unsettling silence greeted her. The elevator was empty, and Patrick had vanished.

Approaching the Judge's office, Sandra felt an unexpected sense of familiarity. Was it because she was entering a place that Billy and William had once called home? It wasn't a house, of course, but according to both of them, they'd spent more hours inside these walls than they ever did at home.

She reached for the door handle, expecting resistance from the lock, but instead, it turned easily in her hand. She smiled, whispering, "Thanks, Patrick."

Once inside, she looked around the outer office, her heart pounding. Nothing had changed. The furniture and cabinets had white sheeting draped over them. Stacks of boxes filled with paperwork and whatnot lined the walls, their contents a mystery. It was as if time stood still when Billy died.

Sandra hurried across the room to the main office, where she was familiar. The secret door hung from one hinge, exposing papers and books she'd left behind.

With a flashlight in hand, she made her way to the window ledge, choosing to sit there and admire the city view until, hopefully, Jack appeared.

After an hour, Sandra could feel herself dozing off as boredom settled in. She rummaged through the dusty files, satisfying her curiosity that they hadn't left behind anything important, like an actual map, to help them find the treasure.

"Hands in the air!"

Startled, Sandra dropped the file she was holding, her head snapping toward the man, pointing a gun in her direction. Her voice trembled as she stammered, "I can explain."

"You're under arrest for trespassing. You can do your explaining at headquarters."

"The judge sent me here." Sandra knew she sounded foolish, but she had nothing else to offer.

"Lady, I might be new to the force, but even I know the judge's been dead for over a year."

Sandra looked around the room, praying Patrick would rescue her. "But — I was supposed to meet Jack."

"Sure, you were. Unfortunately, Jack must have forgotten. It's inconvenient for you, but he took a few hours off."

He took out his handcuffs and told Sandra to put her hands behind her back. As he escorted her out of the office, she muttered, her voice filled with desperation, "Patrick, where are you?" She was under arrest, her heart sinking, without a plan or a ghost to help her.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)


Chapter 38
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 38

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 37
"Hands in the air!"

Startled, Sandra dropped the file she was holding, her head snapping toward the man, pointing a gun in her direction. Her voice trembled as she stammered, "I can explain."

"You're under arrest for trespassing. You can do your explaining at headquarters."

"The judge sent me here." Sandra knew she sounded foolish, but she had nothing else to offer.

"Lady, I might be new to the force, but even I know the judge's been dead for over a year."

Sandra looked around the room, praying Patrick would rescue her. "But — I was supposed to meet Jack."

"Sure, you were. Unfortunately, Jack must have forgotten. It's inconvenient for you, but he took a few hours off."

He took out his handcuffs and told Sandra to put her hands behind her back. As he escorted her out of the office, she muttered, her voice filled with desperation, "Patrick, where are you?" She was under arrest, her heart sinking, without a plan or a ghost to help her.

*****

CHAPTER 38
Sandra found herself in a holding cell, sitting on a concrete bed with a two-inch mattress. Her heart raced. Two cells away, a woman was clinging to the toilet, retching violently. Across the aisle, another woman screamed in agony, begging for a fix.

The clock on the wall over the exit door said it was 6:45. Time was slipping away. She needed to get out of there and find Jack, or else everything would have been for nothing. She tried telepathy but failed to move the hands on the clock. Annie, also known to some as Miss Punctuality, would be at her desk at seven sharp, and Sandra planned on making her one call.

"Guard, excuse me, but I was told I could make a phone call at seven o'clock."

The uninterested woman lifted her head from the book she'd been staring at and checked the clock. She grumbled, "It's 6:55."

After very little sleep, Sandra struggled to control her temper, knowing that angering the woman would only make matters worse. She smiled graciously. "I know, but I thought it would give you time to get away from some of this, and we'd be near the phone at seven."

The woman in the cell with the vomit everywhere chose that moment to moan. "Guard — Guard, I need help." The awful sound of dry heaves followed her wailing.

Without another thought, the guard lumbered from her chair, reached for her keys, and walked to Sandra's cell. "You're right. I could stretch my legs a little."

The clanking of the cell door opening echoed throughout the small chamber. Sandra stood, relief washing over her. She wasted no time when the guard waved for her to come out.

*****

Sandra was led to a room with only a desk and a chair. The phone, Sandra's lifeline, sat in the middle of the desk. She hurried into the room, sitting on the metal chair, and dialed her assistant's number.

Annie picked up on the first ring, hitting the speakerphone as she put her things away. "Good morning. Thank you for calling The Crime Stoppers Gazette. How can I help you?"

Sandra had heard Annie's well-rehearsed greeting thousands of times, but never had it sounded so good as it did this morning. "Annie, it's Sandra."

"Sandra, what's going on? Since you inherited that mansion, you've dropped off the face of the earth. I know you took vacation time, but —"

"Annie!" Sandra's voice was shrill. "I'm in trouble."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Oh my God, Sandra! What's wrong?"

"I've been arrested, and I need you to bail me out as soon as possible."

"Arrested? For what?" Annie's concern for her boss was genuine, but her curiosity was too. "Where are you exactly?"

"I'm here in the city. It's a long story, but I had to return to the Judge's office and got arrested for trespassing."

"You went there in the middle of the night? Sandra, what were you thinking?"

"Annie, please, I don't have time to explain. I'm following a hot story, and the clock is ticking. I need you to get me out of here."

As Annie was about to respond, Sandra heard a familiar, gruff voice in the background. "Annie, since when have you been a bail bondman?"

Sandra's heart sank. Her boss, Les Cunningham, had overheard her conversation with Annie, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Seconds later, his whole persona filled the empty room where Sandra sat as he growled into the phone. "This better be good, Sandra. You've left us in quite a jam, taking off so suddenly."

"Sir, I — I took accrued vacation time."

Les took a deep breath and then lowered the hammer. "Oh, correct. Have a good time, and call us back when you're working again."

"Les, don't hang up. Pleeeeaaase!"

"Give me a reason, and it better be a good one," Les smirked, satisfied he had Sandra in the corner he wanted.

She sighed, scrambling to think how much she could tell him. "I'm onto something big. It's a story that could blow everything wide open, but I need to get out of this jail. Will you help me?"

Les's voice was stern, leaving no room for negotiation. "I want in! No bail unless I know what I'm dealing with."

Sandra hesitated for a moment, then decided she had no choice. "Alright, Les. I'm investigating —" Sandra felt her heart pounding. "I got a lead on the missing treasure the Judge Parker stole."

"Treasure's great, but that's old news. It's never been found, and that mansion's been searched too many times to count."

"But this time is different, Les," Sandra smirked, thinking what he'd say if she told him about the ghosts, which she would not do. "Frankie Saladino is involved." She let the carrot dangle.

Les bit. "The underworld mobster?"

Sandra smiled. She hooked him. "Yeah, that's the guy. I came to town to check out the Judge's office and got arrested for trespassing. Can you get me out of here?"

Les was mulling over his options, knowing that Sandra wasn't giving him her whole story. She might think she had him, but only time would tell. "Fine, but I'm keeping a close eye on this. I'll have Annie arrange bail. Don't make me regret this."

"Thank you, Les," Sandra replied, relief washing over her. "I won't let you down."

Les hung up the phone. "Arrange her bail."

"Yes, sir, right away."

"Then come to my office. I've got a few other things to arrange in case this story turns out to be big." Les was already checking off things in his mind — a news van with multiple cameras, microphones, a photographer, laptops, and lots of coffee.

*****

As Sandra stood to leave the room, Michael Sullivan, her nemesis, appeared at the door, eager to see her again, he couldn't get her out of his mind for some unknown reasons. "Hope you enjoyed your overnight accommodations, Miss Monroe."

"It's not the Ritz, but then —" She purposely looked him up and down, scowling. "I suppose it's the best you could do."

Being rude wasn't part of her character, but something about this rookie cop was playing with her emotions. Staying in jail all night hadn't helped either.

Michael laughed. "We try to leave a lasting impression so our guests don't want to return."

"Well, you did a fine job of that." Sandra couldn't hide the smile tweaking at the corner of her mouth. "I'll put in a good word on my check-out card."

"Oh yeah, someone has paid your bail, and you are free to go." He handed her a plastic bag filled with her few belongings. "Try to stay out of trouble." Michael inhaled as she squeezed by him. He flashed her a smile and she returned it with a smirk.

Sandra's mind was racing, wondering how she was going to find Jack and Patrick and get back to the mansion on time as she claimed the bag and stepped into the hall. She barely managed a "thank you" as she spotted the processing desk and hurried toward it.

*****

Back at the mansion, things were heating up on all sides. Billy and Ryan were arranging the switch and bait while deep in the tunnels, Louie had learned his leverage had managed to escape.

Having set up a temporary office at the mouth of the tunnel, Louie leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigar. Terrance and Tony stood at attention, their backs against the limestone wall. "Alright, you two knuckleheads, tell me what happened. How did the broad get out of the water tank?"

Tony glanced at his sidekick before he answered, "You ain't gonna believe this, but it was the ghosts."

Louie's eyebrow shot up on his forehead as he ground his cigar tip into a rock. "Ghosts?" He stood and walked around the makeshift desk, moving closer to the men. Leaning closer, his face inches from theirs, he growled, "That's the best you numbskulls can come up with?"

Terrence's head bobbed vigorously. "It's the truth, boss. You should have been there."

"If I had been there, you two wouldn't have been needed." Louie formed a gun with his finger." Get my drift?"

Terrence's eyes widened, and he clamped his mouth closed. Tony, on the other hand, pressed forward, trying to convince Louie. "We were down in that cellar, trying to keep an eye on the broad. She was screaming and splashing as the tank filled with water. And then — well, the darndest thing — stuff started happening."

Louie nodded as if considering what they were saying. "Stuff started happening. Like what?"

"The lights started flickering, and a chandelier fell from the ceiling, crashing and almost hitting us."

Terrence, his voice trembling, added, "The temperature dropped like we were in a freezer. And I think I saw shadows moving, but no one was there."

Encouraged by Louie's attentive look, Tony jumped in,"Yeah, someone touched me —"

"Me too!"

Louie sneered, "Someone touched both of you. What did they look like — big ole boogie men?"

"No, boss! For real, I felt a hand, but no one was there."

Louie laughed sarcastically. "You expect me to buy that? Ghosts? Come on. You let the stories get under your skin, and you got scared. Admit it!"

"Ya gotta believe us, boss. I even think I saw the eyes move on one of the freakin' pictures on the wall."

Louie slammed his fist against a crate. "Enough! I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. You let a bunch of amateurs, probably women, use their parlor tricks to get the better of you. There are no such things as ghosts. Now, get out of my face. Go find the broad and maybe a few others while you are at it."

"But boss —"

Louie glared at the two men. "I said — get out!"

Terrence and Tony didn't need to be told twice as they turned and hurried back into the dark tunnel, neither sure which was worse, the ghosts or their boss.

*****

Michael couldn't take his eyes off Sandra as she completed the paperwork and waited for it to be processed. He didn't know why, but he wanted to get to know her better. Her confident demeanor and the way she handled herself intrigued him.

With his morning coffee in hand, Detective Jack O'Reilly left the breakroom and spied his new rookie leaning against the doorway, mesmerized by the woman being processed. Jack chuckled inwardly, recognizing the signs of infatuation all too well.

"I know it was your first arrest," Jack said, walking up to Michael, "but you do have to let it go, boy. From what I can see, she's got a nice swing on that gate, but she's yesterday's news. You'll never see her again."

Michael blinked, momentarily lost in his thoughts about Sandra. "Aren't you curious why she was in the Judge's office?" he asked suddenly, snapping back to reality. "She said he sent her to get you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Now I know you're lovesick. The Judge is dead. How could he have sent her to get me? It's got to be a setup of some kind."

"Maybe," Michael replied, his mind racing with possibilities. "My car's outside. Let's tail her and see where she goes."

Jack nodded, his veteran instincts kicking in. "Alright, but we're just cruising. Don't want her slapping us with a harassment suit."

They hurried out of the precinct, Michael trying to appear casual as he scanned the parking lot for Sandra. Spotting her talking on her phone near a yellow cab, he nudged Jack discreetly. "There she is."

They waited until the cab drove off, then followed it at a safe distance, Jack keeping their target in sight while Michael navigated through the city traffic. As they trailed her, Michael's thoughts raced. What was Sandra's connection to the deceased judge? Was she involved in something more sinister than they realized?

Jack glanced at Michael, noticing the determination etched on his face. "Don't get too caught up, kid," he advised quietly. "Keep your focus on the road."

Michael nodded his adrenaline pumping. He was stepping into unfamiliar territory, driven by a mix of curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth about Sandra and her unexpected visit to the judge's office.

The cab pulled over to the curb, and Sandra got out. Michael's mouth dropped open as he watched her enter the building. "I don't believe it. She's going back to the Judge's office."

"You find a place to park. I'll go inside and see what she's up to." Jack climbed out of the car and hurried inside as the elevator doors closed. He watched as it ascended, stopping on the third floor.

Unwilling to wait for the elevator to return, Jack took the stairs. Now, his curiosity was running rampant. "Okay, little lady, what are you up to?"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)


Chapter 39
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 39

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 38
They hurried out of the precinct, Michael trying to appear casual as he scanned the parking lot for Sandra. Spotting her talking on her phone near a yellow cab, he nudged Jack discreetly. "There she is."

They waited until the cab drove off, then followed it at a safe distance, Jack keeping their target in sight while Michael navigated through the city traffic. As they trailed her, Michael's thoughts raced. What was Sandra's connection to the deceased judge? Was she involved in something more sinister than they realized?

Jack glanced at Michael, noticing the determination etched on his face. "Don't get too caught up, kid," he advised quietly. "Keep your focus on the road."

Michael nodded his adrenaline pumping. He was stepping into unfamiliar territory, driven by a mix of curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth about Sandra and her unexpected visit to the judge's office.

The cab pulled over to the curb, and Sandra got out. Michael's mouth dropped open as he watched her enter the building. "I don't believe it. She's going back to the Judge's office."

"You find a place to park. I'll go inside and see what she's up to." Jack climbed out of the car and hurried inside as the elevator doors closed. He watched as it ascended, stopping on the third floor.

Unwilling to wait for the elevator to return, Jack took the stairs. Now, his curiosity was running rampant. "Okay, little lady, what are you up to?"
 
*****
CHAPTER 39

As Sandra exited the elevator, she silently prayed that Patrick would be waiting for her in the judge's office. She felt anxious since he had deserted her last night. He'd been so upbeat about their adventure as they traveled into town, but once here, he'd vanished with no explanation. She also knew that the police were hot on her trail, and she didn't have much time.

She opened the outer office door to the sound of Irish singing. Rolling her eyes, she hurried through the office toward Judge Parker's private office. Patrick was sitting in the desk chair, feet propped on the windowsill, singing at the top of his lungs.

"I'm glad you are so happy. Where have you been?" Sandra glared at him. "You promised me you were going to help."

A mischievous grin played across his lips, and his emerald green eyes twinkled. "An O'Reilly promise is as good as gold, lass."

"This place smells like a brewery, Patrick. And that lipstick on your collar. How do you explain that?"

"I was getting the lay of the land, so to speak, and this darling lady offered to help me."

"I'm sure she did. You were partying with some woman while I sat in jail last night. Thanks for the help." Sandra was irritated, and she wasn't holding back.

"You're quick with the temper this morning, lass. Maybe I oughta explain before you shoot me or something."

"Better make it quick because the cop who arrested me and his boss are on my tail and should be coming through that door momentarily."

"Well then, I'll leave the explaining for later and step into the other room until they arrive." As Patrick moved swiftly across the room, he stopped at the doorway. "I'm sorry you're upset, but I did my job. You'll see."

"It's your hide if we can't get them to help us."

"I'm confident that it will all fall in place once Jack locks eyes on me." With that, Patrick disappeared, leaving Sandra alone in the office, scanning the street below.

Jack's voice bellowed as he cleared the outer office and stood in the doorway. "You're trespassing!" His hand perched on top of his gun. "You mind telling me what you're doing in Judge Parker's office?"

Sandra turned around and looked directly at Jack. "We meet again."

"It's you!" Jack gasped. Weren't you here a while ago, digging for a story? I told you to stay out of here. So did the other cop. Lady, you don't catch on very fast."

"I actually do, Jack, but the Judge said I needed to talk to you." She smiled. "He needs your help."

"Now I know you're missing a few marbles if you expect me to believe my friend, who's been dead for over a year, sent you to get me." Skepticism was etched across Jack's face. "Little lady, you might have put stars in my rookie's eyes, but I'm seeing through you plain as day. What's your scam?"

"It's not a scam, Jack. I know it's hard to believe, but Judge Parker did send me," Sandra insisted.

Jack shook his head, his disbelief evident. "I don't believe in ghosts! So, let's get past it, okay?"

"I was afraid you'd say that." Sandra took a deep breath and called out, "Patrick!"

Patrick appeared, this time in his earthly form. Jack's face went pale, and he stepped back, stammering, "Grandfather? It can't be!" He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

Patrick smiled gently. "It's me, Jack. I'm here because we need your help."

Jack's eyes darted between Sandra and Patrick, his mind struggling to grasp the reality before him. "This is some kind of trick," he muttered, his voice shaking. "Some elaborate hoax."

"No trick, Jack," Patrick said softly. "I know it's hard to accept, but it's true. I'm here because you need to help Sandra. We all do."

Jack shook his head vigorously, backing away. "No. This can't be happening. Grandfather, you died years ago. This isn't real."

Sandra stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Jack, I know it's a lot to take in. But we don't have time. There are dangerous men at the mansion right now, planning to steal a treasure. Your grandfather, the judge, and many other good people will be sent into damnation if they accomplish it. This is their only chance for redemption."

Jack's expression shifted from disbelief to concern. "The mansion? Judge Parker's old place? Who's there?"

"Gangsters," Sandra replied. "They're after something valuable hidden in the mansion. They'll get away with it if we don't stop them."

Patrick nodded. "She's telling the truth, Jack. This isn't just about ghosts and mysteries. There are real, dangerous people involved."

At that moment, Michael entered, his expression stern. "What's going on here?"

Jack turned to Michael, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's my grandfather. He's..."

Michael looked at Patrick, his eyes widening. "This can't be real."

Patrick raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I know it's a shock, but we need to focus. There's no time to waste. There are gangsters at the mansion, and we need to stop them."

Jack looked back at Patrick, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. "Grandfather, if this is real — what — what do you want me to do?"

"Sandra can explain the details, but first, I need to set something straight with her. I got a little sidetracked last night," Patrick admitted sheepishly.

"You think!" Sandra shook her head. "I sat in jail, and you wasted your time fooling around."

"Not exactly! I've recruited my old team." Patrick opened the conference room door. "Come on out, guys."

Sandra couldn't believe her eyes. A dozen men of all ages filed out of the conference room. Jack and Michael recognized several of them and waved. Patrick quickly added, "There are more to meet us at the mansion."

Sandra raised an eyebrow. "Where are they going to stay? We can't have them all arriving at the mansion; it will blow our cover."

Patrick nodded. "No, I own a hunting cabin — well, I guess Jack owns it now. It's not too far from Willow Creek. They'll stay there while you put the plan into play, and then we'll round them up." Patrick smiled at Sandra. "A simple 'I'm sorry I doubted you' will suffice."

Sandra laughed. "Okay, you kept your promise. I'm sorry."

Jack took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "I will have to run this past my boss, but you can count on me. I'll leave out the part about the ghosts, though."

Michael poked Jack in the side. "You're going to take me too, right?"

Jack raised an eyebrow but couldn't conceal his smile. "Yeah, I suppose I can take you."

"I hate to interrupt, but Sandra and I are on a deadline. Jack, you and Michael work it out with your boss." Patrick turned to the guys. "You guys get settled in at the hunting lodge. I'll contact you as soon as I can."

Jack moved closer to Patrick. "This isn't some weird joke, is it?"

"No. I'm really here. Though it does feel strange for me, too, since this is the first time I have been able to appear in earthly form outside the mansion."

"Can — can I hug you?"

Patrick held out his arms. "I'd be hurt if you didn't. Come here, boy. It's been a long time."

Grandfather and grandson embraced, and then Patrick stepped away. "I could do that forever, but like I said, we've got a deadline. I'll see you at the mansion."

Michael turned to Sandra, grinning from ear to ear. "I knew there was something special about you from the first time I set eyes on you, but let me tell you, I never expected anything like this."

Sandra smiled back, coyly answering, "Neither did I."

*****

After a night in jail, meeting Jack, Michael, and Patrick's friends, learning from Annie that Les was champing at the bit to learn more, and driving back to Willow Creek, Sandra was exhausted. Her frustration was teetering on the edge of hysteria, which she knew wouldn't be a pretty sight.

She'd been trying to explain to Sheriff Tyler Williams about the activities at the mansion without mentioning ghosts, but so far, it had been a complete failure.

"I find it highly unlikely that gangsters are operating in our quiet town," the sheriff stated firmly, his voice carrying an air of finality.

"Sheriff, I understand your skepticism, but there have been strange occurrences that we cannot explain."

A tap at the door got the Sheriff and Sandra's attention. "Sir, I think you should take a look outside."

He glared at his assistant and snapped, "Mandy, can't you see I am busy?"

"Yes, sir, but an entire news crew rarely shows up in our town. Something must be going on."

He slammed his cup of coffee on the desk. It slopped over the edge and covered the blotter. "Is this how you stir up trouble, Miss —"

"Monroe. Sandra Monroe." Sandra walked to the window with Tyler hot on her heels. "Oh, no — what's he doing here?

Tyler snarled, "Exactly what I would like to know." Turning to Mandy, he yelled, "Get someone out there and find out what they are up to."

A gruff voice answered, "I can help you with that, Sheriff."

Les stepped around Mandy and entered the room, glancing at Sandra with smug confidence. He extended his hand toward the sheriff. "Les Miller, CEO and Chief Editor of Crime Stopper Gazette."

Tyler ignored Les's hand and returned to his desk. "So, you're the one behind this fiasco. Bringing chaos to my town. For what?"

Sandra's anger flared as Les winked in her direction before he spoke, "I pride myself on being on top of the big stories when they unfold, sir. Now, Sandra, she's got her nose to the ground looking for a story, but she's new to the business. On the other hand, I have been in the business for decades, and I can assure you that our sources are reliable. We wouldn't waste our time or yours chasing wild stories."

"It's my story! He wasn't even aware of it until this morning." Sandra glared at her boss. "Ask him for details. What's happening, and who is involved?"

"Sandra, I can see you're upset, but let me handle this."

"I won't! Just because you bailed me out of jail —"

Tyler turned his full attention to Sandra. "You were in jail last night? For what? Breaking and entering?" He chuckled as he tried to imagine Sandra's willowy body climbing a fire escape and committing a crime.

"Yes, actually. I was arrested for trespassing. I needed to meet — umm, get something from Judge Parker's old office."

"The Judge? He owned the mansion at one time. Is that what this is all about? Some hidden treasure?"

"It is — in a way. The Judge sent me to his office to —"

"Lady, you better quit while you're ahead. The judge has been dead for over a year. I don't think he sent you anywhere."

"But he did, and we are wasting time. I'm telling you Frankie Saladino has his entire crew combing the tunnels beneath the mansion, and they are going to steal a fortune in jewels, antiques, paintings.":

"And you want me, a small-town sheriff with two deputies, to face down the mob. You are out of your mind! They can take the whole town if they want."

Trying to get the upper hand over Sandra, Les jumped into the conversation, "My crew will be right behind you, getting every last detail when you take them down. Wouldn't you like to be front-page news?"

"Uh, what I would like is to be alive tomorrow, not lying on some slab in the morgue."

"We've got help coming. You won't be alone. And the Judge —" Sandra stopped, knowing she was about to confirm her status of lunacy if she mentioned the Judge and everyone at the mansion.

"I'll take it from here, Sandra." Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice. In the corner, near the file cabinets, the room was glowing as Judge William Parker and his grandson, Billy, materialized.

The sheriff's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the ghostly apparition. "What in the world —" Stepping further back, he gulped, "The notorious Judge Parker and his grandson, Billy?"

Les's over-confident balloon fizzled and deflated as he stared at whatever was happening in the room's far corner. He edged closer to the door. "What kind of hoax is this?"

William chuckled. "I assure you it's no hoax, sir. Being the highly skilled investigator that she is, she wouldn't waste her time on a hoax.

"But — you look like —" Les's saucer-sized eyes darted toward Sandra. "They look like ghosts?"

Sandra shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "That they are. You get used to it after a while. Welcome to my world, Les."

"No — no, I don't think so. This show, or whatever it is, is yours. The crew and I will take the back seat on this one." He turned and rushed out of the office, not glancing back at all.

Noting that time was of the essence, William approached the sheriff slowly. "I understand your skepticism, but I assure you, I am very real — in a ghostly sense. Sandra has been investigating and has uncovered a plot to steal my ill-gotten fortune."

"Are the lights in the cemetery connected in some way?" The sheriff had been aware of torches moving around the cemetery for some time, but being aware and investigating were two different things.

Billy grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Spirits like to roam the graveyard, looking for their relatives. Sometimes, it's a real party."

Sandra hid her smile behind her hand, knowing Billy couldn't resist teasing the sheriff.

Still wide-eyed and shaky, Tyler croaked, "But - what can I do? I can't stand up to the mob."

"You won't be alone. We have plenty of help coming from the city and a good plan. Sandra can explain. I need to get back to the mansion. Are you in?"

Still bewildered, he nodded. "I'm in!"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff


Chapter 40
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 40

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 39
"But — you look like —" Les's saucer-sized eyes darted toward Sandra. "They look like ghosts?"

Sandra shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "That they are. You get used to it after a while. Welcome to my world, Les."

"No — no, I don't think so. This show, or whatever it is, is yours. The crew and I will take the back seat on this one." He turned and rushed out of the office, not glancing back at all.

Noting that time was of the essence, William approached the sheriff slowly. "I understand your skepticism, but I assure you, I am very real — in a ghostly sense. Sandra has been investigating and has uncovered a plot to steal my ill-gotten fortune."

"Are the lights in the cemetery connected in some way?" The sheriff had been aware of torches moving around the cemetery for some time, but being aware and investigating were two different things.

Billy grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Spirits like to roam the graveyard, looking for their relatives. Sometimes, it's a real party."

Sandra hid her smile behind her hand, knowing Billy couldn't resist teasing the sheriff.

Still wide-eyed and shaky, Tyler croaked, "But - what can I do? I can't stand up to the mob."

"You won't be alone. We have plenty of help coming from the city and a good plan. Sandra can explain. I need to get back to the mansion. Are you in?"

Still bewildered, he nodded. "I'm in!"
 
*****


CHAPTER 40

"Patrick! I'm glad to see you made it back safely and in time. You cut it kind of close, didn't you?" Ryan had so much to tell Patrick, but first, he wanted to hear about his adventure in the city.

"Yeah, heard you took a little trip of your own and left Sandra sitting in jail."

The usual glow around Patrick faded as he looked at his friends with a sheepish grin. "I see the Spirit News Line is working at full speed. I did get a little off track seeing my old haunts." Patrick chuckled. "Funny, I called them haunts when I was alive. Now, they really were."

"Bet Sandra was none too happy with you." Benny chuckled. "I had women put out a hit on their man for less than that."

"I got the job done. Don't I get credit for that? We have help on the way."

"Are you sure they will come? It couldn't have been easy convincing those mortals to team up with a ghost." Ryan looked skeptical. "How'd you do it?"

"Actually, I played a little good cop, bad cop."

"Huh — are these cops that are pitching in or criminals?" Benny's eyes narrowed, not sure he understood. "You aren't bringing in more bad guys to contend with, are you?

"It'll be fine, Benny. After I reminded each of them I had the dirt that could put them away forever, we settled on a little agreement."
 
"You bribed these guys?" Ryan's eyes darted across the room to his friend, Benny. "You realize not all bad guys transform into good ones."

"First, I went to a few backroom poker games. When the time was right, and the guys were feeling their oats, I might have done a few spiritual tricks."

Benny's laugh filled the study. "Spiritual tricks? You mean you scared the heck out of them. What'd you do — pull a rabbit out of the hat?"

"Better than that. I filled the room with projected images of every tough guy I could conjure up. Of course, they weren't real, but they sure looked and acted like it. After a few flying punches, chairs, and tables, they saw things my way. I also promised them a little cash."

"Cash? Where's that coming from, or was that a trick?

"No, it wasn't a trick, Ryan. If we can pull this off, they'll deserve every dollar they get." Patrick moved closer to the guys and whispered, "William, let me in on a hiding spot with a duffle bag filled with money from a train robbery. It's theirs if they help us out."

"Sounds like you got things worked out."

"I'm not so sure. We're putting our chance at catching these guys and getting out of this place in the hands of criminals — coerced ones, at that. I'm telling you, you can't trust 'em."

Patrick and Ryan answered in unison, "Really?"

Ryan rolled his eyes and laughed at his friend. "Kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it? You weren't no saint, and we trust you."

Benny rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I guess you got me there."

"Now, tell me, what's happening here?"

Having returned from the sheriff's office, William and Billy joined the men in the study. Billy heard Patrick's question and jumped into their conversation. "Ryan, Benny, and Vinny have been very busy. They chose some portraits, antiques, jewelry, kegs of wine, cases of priceless liquor bottles, and anything that looked valuable and stashed them in the room near the water tower."

"Yeah, there's gold coins, cash — anything we could find that would make them go crazy and want to get it out of the mansion fast."

"We chose a place we know Frankie's guys have been snooping around. Now that you're back, Ryan and I will stage a little show for our friends, making sure they see Victoria's diamonds."

"Sounds like you've been busy as well. When is this happening?"

"We were just waiting for your return. We're ready to go."

"Well, let's get this show on the road."

*****

Billy and Ryan descended the narrow, dimly lit staircase into the dark, damp tunnels, stopping now and then to listen and check whether Louie's guys were nearby. The musty scent of old limestone and mildew hung in the air as they crept deeper into the underground passages.

Ryan whispered, "There's an advantage to being invisible. We can get on top of these guys, and they won't know it."

"Yeah, but we don't want to spook them either."

Ryan's voice was barely audible. "Listen! It sounds like someone is talking somewhere past the room we set up."

"Great! I think it's show time."

*****

Billy and Ryan slipped through the wall into the staged room before materializing into their earthly forms. Billy handed Ryan the cache of diamonds. "Ready?"

"I always wanted to be an actor." Ryan chuckled. "Let's get it done."

Billy opened the door and moved into the hallway. Ryan followed, his voice filled with excitement, loud enough to attract attention.

"Billy, we've hit the mother lode. Will you look at these diamonds?" He held one of the necklaces up to the light filtering through the wall. "I've never seen anything like it."

A voice near the ceiling hissed, "Project, young man!" His amusement filled every wrinkle on his face. "You got to get louder."

Ryan shook his head in disbelief. "Vinny? What are you doing up there? That wasn't part of the plan."

"Well, I'm the lookout. Every good heist has a lookout."

"Vinny, it's not our heist."

"True, but I can see these guys aren't paying attention. Make a little more commotion."

Billy nodded. "Got it!" He opened the door, entered the room, and grabbed a small box of liquor bottles before returning to the hallway.

"Good thinking." Ryan took a few bottles from the box and held them in the air. "Tell me when you're ready."

Billy laughed. "You're having too much fun."

"Hey guys, I don't mind hanging around, but it's getting a little stuffy up here. Can you get it done?"

Billy slammed the door, letting the sound echo down the hallway. He nodded at Ryan, who dropped the liquor bottles on the cement floor. Billy tossed the box, and the other bottles rolled across the floor. The deafening sound alerted Terrence and Tony to the action.
 
Raising his voice, Billy shouted, "You trying to get us caught? You're making enough noise to raise the dead." He winked at Ryan.

"Sorry, but I can't help myself. I've never seen stuff like this in my entire life."

Vinny whispered, "Keep it up. They heard you, and they are moving closer now."

Billy dangled the glittery diamond in the air while Ryan pulled another from the black velvet bag.

"We've got to tell the others. We're set for life."

"Tell the others. Are you nuts?" Billy shrieked. "This is our stash, and we aren't sharing it."

Ryan's eyes danced with mischief. "Let's stash it somewhere. If someone else finds the room, we still have the diamonds."

"Great idea." Billy ran his hand along the wall, finding the loose rock they'd fixed earlier. "Put the bag in here. Nobody will be looking behind some broken stone."

Ryan shoved the velvet bag into the hole, replaced the stone, and winked. "We'll need a truck to haul all that stuff out of here, but for now, the diamonds are just ours."

Billy scattered a few loose diamonds on the floor and whispered, "For good measure. These guys don't look too bright."

The two men retreated to the staircase while Vinny waited to see if the gangsters took the bait. As the men approached the room, Vinny felt satisfied that their plan had worked, and he rejoined the others.

*****

"Are you sure those guys are gone?" Terrence hugged the wall, his knees knocking, afraid they might stumble across the ghosts from the water tower again.

"These weren't ghosts, Terrence. We saw them with our own eyes." Tony rolled his eyes at his partner. "Come on. Let's get a closer look at those gems."

As they moved closer, Tony paused, his flashlight catching something glittering on the damp floor. "Terrence, over here!" he whispered, excitement creeping into his voice.

Terrence crept along the wall, his eyes darting everywhere, waiting for a ghost to jump out at him. "Tony, I don't like this. Can't we go?"

"Are you nuts?" Tony reached down and picked up the loose diamonds from the floor. "We just hit the jackpot, my friend."

Terrence's eyes widened as he saw the diamonds sparkle in Tony's hand. "You sure they're not glass?"

"Since the water tower incident, your brains are not firing on all cylinders. Tell me, would those guys have been so excited and hid the bag in the wall if it was glass?"

Tony ran his hand up and down the wall. "Bring that flashlight over here. I can't find where they put the stuff."

Terrence checked behind him, then moved to Tony's side, shining the flashlight along the wall. With the light, Tony quickly found the loose rock and pried it open, revealing the velvet bag. As he opened it, he let out a low whistle. "Louie's never gonna believe this."

Terrence's eyes lit up. "I don't believe it, and I'm standing here looking at them. Let's get out of here and find Louie."

"Not so fast! I want to take a gander at what's in the room they were so excited about. It'll only take a second."

Tony opened the door and almost collapsed as his eyes scanned the room. "It's — oh my God!" He spun around to face his friend. "Terrence, we found the treasure."

Terrence peered over Tony's shoulder. "We gotta tell the boss before anyone else does. He's going to love us!"

Tony shoved the diamonds into his pocket, closed the door, and the two men raced down the dark corridor.

*****

As they exited the tunnel, Terrence and Tony stopped, shading their eyes from the bright sunlight.

Louie's makeshift desk had been moved to a shadier location under a small glen of trees. Marcos and several other top dogs in the organization sat on a row of wine kegs, smoking and drinking beers.

Spotting the two men exiting the undergrowth that hid the tunnel entrance, Marcos stood and walked toward them. "Are you guys idiots? Louie told you to get out of his sight."

"But —" Terrence stuttered.

"No buts." Marcos took his gun out of his holster, waving it menacingly at the two men. "If you value your lives, I'd get back in there and find that treasure."

"That's what we're trying to tell you." Tony gasped for air, breathless from running through the tunnels. "We found it."

Marcos laughed and turned toward Louie, who was relaxing in the shade, enjoying his cigar. "Hey, boss, these two morons say they found the treasure."

Louie snuffed his cigar in the glass ashtray and picked up his gun. "Bring'em over here. If this is another ghost story, we'll shoot them."

Terrence stammered, "Shoot us! No, boss, we ain't lying. Tony, show 'em."

Tony pulled the velvet bag from his pocket and emptied a handful of diamonds onto the desk. He retrieved the diamond necklace from his other pocket and dropped it alongside the others. Satisfied, he smirked, "And there's lots more stuff."

Louie's eyes widened. Putting his gun back in his shoulder holster, he picked up the necklace and inspected it closely. "Where the hell did you find these?"

Tony grinned, unable to contain his excitement. "There's more, boss. A whole room of valuables. I'm telling you, it's the treasure."

Louie's suspicions melted into greed. "Show me."

The three men, followed by Louie's entourage, made their way back through the tunnels, their flashlights flickering in the darkness.

Marcos muttered, "Boss, it's just another wild good chase. These guys don't know where they are going."

"We do! It's just around the corner." Tony reassured Louie.

Louie snarled, "You better not be yanking my chain."

Terrence shrank backward from Louie, but Tony beamed. "It's the treasure, boss. I'm telling you, we found the whole mother lode."

Tony's flashlight beam flickered across the floor, spotting a few loose diamonds remaining on the floor. "See, Louie, they dropped some when they were leaving."

"They who?" Marcos snapped.

"Two guys who live upstairs. They said they weren't going to tell the others. They want it for themselves."

Tony opened the door and let it swing open wide. Louie stepped inside, his eyes widening at the sight. He let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Well, I'll be damned."

Terrence beamed with pride while Tony shot a smirk in Marcos's direction. "We thought you'd like it."

Louie nodded, a rare smile spreading across his face. "You did good. Real good. We're gonna get all of this out of here tonight. I'll arrange for the panel vans to come in under the cover of darkness. We'll be rich men by morning."

Tony and Terrence exchanged triumphant looks. They had finally got back in Louie's good graces, and they couldn't wait to see the payoff.

As they headed back to the surface to make the arrangements, Marcos couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. But the lure of the loot was too strong, and he pushed the doubt aside. This was their ticket to fortune, and nothing was going to stand in their way. Not even these bumbling idiots.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 41
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 41

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 40

Terrence shrank backward from Louie, but Tony beamed. "It's the treasure, boss. I'm telling you, we found the whole mother lode."

Tony's flashlight beam flickered across the floor, spotting a few loose diamonds remaining on the floor. "See, Louie, they dropped some when they were leaving."

"They who?" Marcos snapped.

"Two guys who live upstairs. They said they weren't going to tell the others. They want it for themselves."

Tony opened the door and let it swing open wide. Louie stepped inside, his eyes widening at the sight. He let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Well, I'll be damned."

Terrence beamed with pride while Tony shot a smirk in Marcos's direction. "We thought you'd like it."

Louie nodded, a rare smile spreading across his face. "You did good. Real good. We're gonna get all of this out of here tonight. I'll arrange for the panel vans to come in under the cover of darkness. We'll be rich men by morning."

Tony and Terrence exchanged triumphant looks. They had finally got back in Louie's good graces, and they couldn't wait to see the payoff.

As they headed back to the surface to make the arrangements, Marcos couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. But the lure of the loot was too strong, and he pushed the doubt aside. This was their ticket to fortune, and nothing was going to stand in their way. Not even these bumbling idiots.

******

CHAPTER 41
Dusk was settling on the mansion and its surroundings as the sun kissed the horizon. The air was thick with anticipation in the confines of the mansion's upper floors. The future redemption of so many hung in the balance, and some figures drifted about the rooms, hovering nearby. Their translucent forms flickered in and out as they worried. They were unsure of all the details but understood this would be a pivotal moment tonight.

In town, Jack, Michael, and Tyler worked feverishly to devise a plan to apprehend the gangsters when they escaped from the mansion.

"There's just not enough of us." Tyler tossed his hat onto the desk. "Even with the guys at the lodge and those that have been filtering into town, I don't see how we can do it."

"There's got to be a way. We just need to stay calm and think it out." Jack hoped he sounded reassuring.

"Listen, Jack, I know I'm not a big city detective like you, but even I know these guys aren't going down without a fight. We don't even know how many of them are up there or what kind of firepower they're packing."

"My grandfather —" The thought of Patrick continued to catch Jack off-guard. He cleared his throat and continued, "Maybe Patrick or one of the other guys can get us that information."

"Depending on ghosts —" Tyler shook his head and walked over to the window, staring out at the street. "I must be losing my mind, wondering who's real and who's not. I'm new to the town, but until you arrived, I never suspected anything suspicious. Now, I learned that one of the biggest mobsters in the area is planning a heist right under my nose, and the only way to take him down is with ghosts."

"Tyler, I know all this is difficult. I'm having trouble myself. But I know Patrick is my grandfather, and dead or not, he will not let this go down without a fight. Take it for what it's worth, but those people, ghosts, or figures of our imagination, whatever you want to call them, have dropped this in our laps. From what I understand from my grandfather, they have a hell of a lot at stake."

Michael had sat quietly, listening and thinking. He leaned forward in his chair, clearing his throat before speaking. "I know I'm the rookie here, but I have an idea."

Tyler scowled, "We aren't dealing with petty ante crime, son. Do you think you know more than Jack or me?"

Jack smiled at Michael. "Give the kid a chance? What can it hurt to listen? Neither of us is coming up with a plan."

Tyler nodded. "Sorry, kid. I guess my nerves are on edge. What's your idea?"

"It's not original, but it worked on the Western movie I watched."

Tyler groaned. "This isn't the Wild West, and the Cavalry will not rescue us."

"Hear him out, Sheriff." Jack snapped, his nerves buckling under the pressure as well. "What's your idea, Michael?"

"I noticed a lot of forest surrounds the cemetery and the mansion. There are stacks of cut branches everywhere."

"Yeah, they're clearing out an area. Town's planning to build a park by the river, but how does that help us?"

"We build a fire ring out of the branches. We're far enough away from the mansion. Those vans are going to leave the mansion under the cover of darkness. They aren't familiar with the lay of the land, and I doubt they'll take much notice of branches, especially if we hide them behind the tall weeds."

"I get it. We can make a clearing so the fire doesn't spread, but leave tall weeds to hide it from anyone coming from the back of the mansion."

"Right! They'll be in it before they know it, and then we will set it on fire, blocking their getaway route."

"Well, I gotta admit it sounds like a good plan, but how do we go about building this wall of fire without anyone seeing all our activity moving from the forests to our spot?"

"I can answer that!"

All of them spun around to face the direction the voice came from. Jack recovered first.

"Grandfather! You've got to stop sneaking up on people like that."

"Sorry! I'm like a kid with a new toy. It's fun." Seeing the skeptical looks on the three mortals staring at him, Patrick changed his tactics. "I sensed you needed help, and I popped in to offer my — well, our services."

The sheriff slumped into his chair. "The kid told me how to crack this case, and now it's a ghost. I need to wake up if this is some awful nightmare."

"If you don't want my help —" Patrick's earthly form faded.

"No, wait! You got to understand how difficult this is to believe —"

Patrick's form brightened again. "Trust me, I know."

"So, what's your idea, grandfather?"

"There's a mansion of unsettled spirits — people up on the hill who are itching to do something besides float around the cemetery. They can build your ring, and no one will see them."

Michael laughed. "If they see floating limbs and branches, I doubt those hoods will tell anyone."

"What do you say, Tyler? Do we put the plan into action?" Jack smiled at his grandfather.

"Might as well, because I sure as heck don't have a better one."

Patrick nodded, and his figure faded, leaving as his voice trailed off. "In case you didn't notice, I'm out of here. There's work to do." His laughter filled the room and made the men smile.

******

The aroma of Lorrie's baked goods hung in the air throughout the mansion. The housekeeper dusted the flour from her hands and moved toward the doorway.

"Would you like some tea?" She'd seen Madeline standing on the porch, staring off into the distance. Despite their ups and downs, they had become friends, bonded by the trials they had faced together.

Startled, Madeline jumped, knocking a flowerpot off the railing. "Oh, dear." She locked up at Lorrie. "I'm sorry for being so clumsy."

Lorrie knelt and picked up the broken pieces. "Don't fret, child. We're all a little on edge." She gave Madeline a reassuring smile. "We've faced troubled times before and got through it. We will again."

Tears shimmered in Madeline's eyes. "I know, but —"

"Come on, child. Tell me what's bothering you."

"It's just — well, when this is all over, each of you will find your eternity. Don't get me wrong — I'll be thrilled for you, but I'll be left here alone. Sandra will probably go back to the city and —"  Her voice trailed off, and she turned away.

"And Noah will be gone. Is that what you were going to say?"

Madeline nodded, wiping away a stray tear. "Why couldn't I have realized how much he meant to me before now? I was so foolish."

Lorrie stood and hugged her. "Noah knows how you feel, and I'm sure he feels the same." Lorrie smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I don't think that story has ended." Fearing she might have said too much, she patted Madeline's arm and exclaimed, "Oh! I've got cookies in the oven. Gotta go."

Madeline leaned against the railing, peering at the sky, whispering, "I hope you're right, Lorrie."

*****

In the study, William stood by the window, his eyes fixed on the world outside. He turned to face the group, his voice steady despite the underlying tension. "Patrick has told me that law enforcement has a plan underway. Both exits will be covered. All most of us can do now is wait.
 
Still feeling awkward among the others, Esther moved to William's side and touched his hand. Their fingers intertwined. "William," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you think this will work?"

He turned to her, his eyes softening. "It has to," he replied. "We've come too far to fail now." William's thumb gently brushed over Esther's knuckles, a silent promise of his commitment.

Across the room, Sandra paced the floor, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. Her mind raced with the possibilities of what could go wrong. She glanced at the clock, its ticking growing louder with each passing second. "I hope all our efforts pay off," she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible.

"It will."

Sandra lifted her eyes to greet her father. His translucent form materialized as she spoke. "How can you be sure?"

"I can't imagine I was allowed to find you, even after my death, only to be swept away into damnation. Sebastian said what's meant to be will be. I believe you and I were meant to meet despite the strange circumstances. I've always watched over you, but of course, you weren't aware."

Sandra smiled. "But, in a way, I think I did know. I would talk to you when I was upset, and a strange calmness would come over me. I'd like to think that your presence comforted me."

"Me too!"

*****

Out in the moonlit forest, the spirits had banded together and were busy at work. James, Benny, and Ryan were working side by side, all of them eager to build the fire ring.
"I never thought I'd see a day when everyone would work side by side for one common cause." He watched as hundreds of spectral forms glided silently among the trees.

Ryan nodded. "Guess this is part of our redemption process. Finding common ground." His eyes widened, and laughter rolled off his lips. "Even that guy is pitching in."

Benny had carried the largest branch he could find. The result was he looked like a disembodied monster, swaying in the wind. Stumbling under the weight of the branch, his footing was anything but graceful.

Across the field, Tony and Terrence were taking a break from loading the vans when Terrence glanced up and saw Benny's antics and all the other floating branches.

His eyes widened with fear as he tugged on Tony's sleeve. "Tony! Tony!" he whispered. "Something strange is happening."

"In case you haven't noticed, something strange is always happening around this place. Let's just get this stuff loaded so we can get out of here."

Terrence pointed across the field. "Tony, just look. There's a — dancing tree."

Tony looked toward where Terrence pointed. Blinking, he found himself speechless.

"Louie ain't going to take kindly to you two wasting time. Let's get a move on." Marcos's gruff voice broke the spell.

Tony's face paled as he stammered, "It's just the wind. You got ghosts on the brain." He turned and headed back into the mansion. "Come on. Did you forget we're going to be rich?"

Meanwhile, the ghosts arranged the branches in a large area, circling the left and right sides of the mansion. The river would serve as a barrier in the back. As the final branch was placed, Benny, feeling mischievous, bellowed a ghostly groan into the wind. The sound echoed through the night.

Terrence stopped walking, his entire body trembling. "That does it! I'm outta here."

Marcos grabbed him, lifting him off his feet. "Shut up and keep loading!" As he released him, Terrence stumbled and fell to the ground.

Tony grabbed his friend, literally dragging him back into the tunnel. "We ain't dying tonight, Terrence. If you wanna die, fine! I'll take your share."
*****

Benny, ever the comedian, floated above. "Guess they couldn't handle the haunting truth."

The other ghosts groaned but couldn't help grinning with satisfaction at scaring the gangsters and completing their job.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 42
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 42

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 41
Tony's face paled as he stammered, "It's just the wind. You got ghosts on the brain." He turned and headed back into the mansion. "Come on. Did you forget we're going to be rich?"

Meanwhile, the ghosts arranged the branches in a large area, circling the left and right sides of the mansion. The river would serve as a barrier in the back. As the final branch was placed, Benny, feeling mischievous, bellowed a ghostly groan into the wind. The sound echoed through the night.

Terrence stopped walking, his entire body trembling. "That does it! I'm outta here."

Marcos grabbed him, lifting him off his feet. "Shut up and keep loading!" As he released him, Terrence stumbled and fell to the ground.

Tony grabbed his friend, literally dragging him back into the tunnel. "We ain't dying tonight, Terrence. If you wanna die, fine! I'll take your share.

Benny, ever the comedian, floated above. "Guess they couldn't handle the haunting truth."

The other ghosts groaned but couldn't help grinning with satisfaction at scaring the gangsters and completing their job.
*****

CHAPTER 42
Patrick laughed at Benny. "You, my friend, are having too much fun."

Benny took another sip of his bourbon, a smirk on his lips. "Oh, Patrick, you have no idea. Seeing these punks squirm is the highlight of my afterlife."

Patrick raises an eyebrow. "You were a hitman. You walked in their shoes, didn't you? Why the grudge?"

Benny's expression darkened as the smirk faded. He stared across the field, his gaze distant. "I was like them. Did a lot of things I'm not proud of, but I learned something toward the end and a lot more since my death."

Patrick listened intently, sensing a deeper story. "What's that?"

Benny sighed and stared at his drink while he swirled it around his glass. "I learned we don't always get a second chance. I wasted my life, causing pain and fear. When I finally caught on, I started giving all the money to the church, thinking it would be my salvation. But dropping money in the church basket didn't save me."

Patrick nodded. "But you're here. That means you got that second chance."

"My friend, Billy, volunteered to come to purgatory because he was allowed to save his grandfather and many others. He gave up his chance to walk through those pearly gates to save his grandfather. When I found that out, I decided it was my last chance to help others, even if I couldn't enter into eternity. My second chance was doing the right thing for others."

"After what I've seen in the last few days, Benny, I don't think you have to worry about being part of the redemption. You've earned it."

Patrick finally understood what made Benny tick. "So, it's not just a grudge. It's a twisted way of trying to save them."

Benny chuckled. "Or maybe I'm just having a bit of fun before I finally move on. Either way, they need to learn."

Patrick places a hand on Benny's shoulder, offering silent support. "Well, whatever your reasons, just remember that change is possible. For them and you."

Benny looked at Patrick, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thanks, Patrick. Maybe you're right. Maybe there's still hope for an old hitman like me."

"Well, I can't let you have all the fun. How about joining me in whipping up a storm? I don't want it to touch the fields, though, or our bonfire won't happen. Just one heck of a cloud burst over the mansion. Are you in?"

"Am I in? You couldn't stop me if you tried." Benny stood and waved his arms in the air. "Let's conjure us a whopping big storm."

*****

Dark clouds gathered directly above the mansion as the men below scrambled to load the vans. The air crackled with electricity as bolts of lightning shot across the sky. Thunder rumbled and clashed like drumbeats, growing louder by the minute. With one gigantic clash, torrents of rain poured down, washing through the tunnel entrance, leaking through the ceilings, and creating pools of water in the passageways.

From outside the cloudburst, Benny and Patrick doubled over with laughter, each trying to outdo the other with their enhancements to the brewing storm.

The gangsters, already on edge, found their movements hindered. Boxes slipped from their hands as their shoes lost traction on the wet ground. Frustration mounted, tempers flared, and curses floated everywhere.

Terrence and Tony were determined to keep a low profile, stay out of Louie's line of sight, and get the vans loaded. Terrence believed in being methodical — like the tortoise — moving slowly, checking things twice, and proceeding cautiously. On the other hand, Tony was eager to empty the room, load the vans, and claim his share of the treasure. Neither of them thought past their own personal vision of how the future would unfold.

Johnny, a wiry man with shifty eyes, couldn't stop thinking about the here and now. He'd been hauling crate after crate to the vans, knowing his claim on the treasure would be much smaller than Louie's. Each time he walked past the boss and his goons while he struggled under the heavy load of the crates, his gut gnawed at him. He wanted his rightful share.

His thoughts blackened like the storm clouds outside. "What if Louie kept it all? What if, after breaking his back all night, he got nothing? What —"

Determined not to let that happen, Johnny waited and entered the room when no one was around. He'd spotted a black case near the back, overflowing with jewelry and loose gems. His greed took over as he fingered the tiny stones — emeralds — a brilliant green matching his envy for Louie's success. Checking to ensure no one was watching or entering the room, he slipped a handful of the glittering gems into his pocket, grabbed one of the portraits, and headed to the door.

A stack of boxes tumbled over, crashing to the floor. Johnny spun around, only to be confronted by Marcos and Louie. His heart sank. He should have known Louie would trust no one. They had hidden from sight, watching every move.

Louie stepped around the scattered boxes, his face twisted in rage. He growled, "What the hell are you doing?"

Marcos closed the space between them. His figure was dark and menacing, a man looking to vent his anger on someone, in this case, Johnny.

The terrified gangster dropped the heavy portrait and stammered as he backed away, "I — I just thought —"

Before finishing his sentence, Marcos lunged forward, grabbed Johnny's shirt, and slammed him against the wall. His fist delivered a smashing blow to Johnny's jaw. Blood, teeth, and saliva splattered everywhere. "That's your first problem — you thought."

Approaching the room, Terrence heard Johnny's agonizing moan and stopped. Tony, unaware, crashed into Terrence's back. His friend's bulging eyes and frantic movement to silence him worked. They both silently moved into the shadows and listened.

Johnny's moans echoed through the door and down the hallway as Marcos delivered one excruciating blow after another. Johnny dropped to the floor, unable to defend himself. The gems spilled from his pocket, scattering across the ground.

Louie's menacing voice sent chills through Terrence and Tony's trembling bodies. "You thought you could steal from me? Nobody does that."

"Please, Louie, I made a mistake." Johnny's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Louie sneered, delivering a solid blow to Johnny's side with his Italian leather boots. "Teach him a lesson, Marcos."

Without further hesitation, Marcos reached behind the door for the baseball bat he'd hidden there for just this purpose. He swung it in the air, connecting with Johnny's head. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed through the tunnel.

Terrence and Tony gagged and choked on their fear as they edged their way further into the darkness, praying they wouldn't be discovered.

Louie and Marcos towered over Johnny's lifeless body, and they exchanged cold, empty glances. Having enjoyed his moment of power, Marcos asked, "What do you want to do with the body?"

"I'd like to feed him to the fishes, but we don't have the time to concern ourselves with this piece of crap. Drag him out of here and leave him in the shadows. Let him rot! Or better yet, let the ghosts get him." Louie's laughter sounded more like a heinous creature.

Following Louie's orders, Marcos lifted Johnny's lifeless body by the shoulders, dragging him down the hallway toward Terrence and Tony. The two men held their breath, frozen in fear of being discovered. Luck was on their side, and Marcos unceremoniously shoved the body into an alcove only feet from the men as Louie yelled for him. "Come on. Let's get out of here. We've wasted too much time."

Without another look, Marcos hurried back to his boss, and they headed back outside to the vans.

Amid the chaos, Benny's translucent body floated near the ceiling, his focus concentrated on the two young men. He recognized their fear, but more than that, he saw something else. He realized they weren't bad guys, not like Louie and Marcos. He sipped his bourbon, contemplating the situation.

Terrence stammered, "Tony, they killed him."

Tony gulped, his usual bravado gone. "I know. It could have been us."

"What if next time —" Terrence trembled, unable to control his nerves.

"We gotta get as far away as possible from this place." Tony listened and then stepped out of the shadows. "Come on. Grab a box and take it to the van. When we get outside, keep moving."

"To where?" Terrence's nerves were shattering. "What if they catch us?"

Tony turned to his friend and stared into his eyes. "Listen to me. If we stay here, we will probably end up like that guy." He nodded toward the alcove. "We might as well take our chances and try to escape."

"Escape? You make us sound like criminals."

"Well. Aren't we?" Tony shook his head and crept along the dark hallway, listening for approaching voices. Terrence followed, unsure but positive he wouldn't be left behind alone.

At the doorway, Tony hesitated, staring at the scattered gems on the floor. Terrence gulped. "Don't even think about it."

Tony sighed and moved into the room, leaving the gems glittering on the ground. They both picked up one of the few remaining boxes and moved out of the mansion, silently praying they would escape alive.

*****

As the other gangsters focused on loading the final boxes, Terrence and Tony slipped away. The storm masked their departure.

"We need to get to the river," Tony muttered as they crouched beneath the bushes. "I remember it's not far. We have to get through these trees."

"Then what?" Terrence was doubtful of crossing a river in the storm. "We don't have a boat."

"We'll have to cross it. It's our only chance." Tony recognized the fear in his friend's eyes. "It's up to you, pal. I won't force you, but it's the only way for us to get out."

The rain was soaking them to the bone. Louie's voice crackled through the night as he ordered the men to hurry and finish the job, or they'd answer to him. The awful sound of Louie's voice sealed the deal. Terrence nodded. "Let's go!"

Their fear propelled them through the tangled bushes and dense forest until they emerged into the open air, the river rushing downstream.

"Think we can make it?" Terrence asked, eyeing the turbulent water.

"Only one way to find out." Taking a deep breath, Tony plunged into the river. Reluctantly, Terrence followed.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 43
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 43

By Begin Again

ENDING CHAPTER 42
As the other gangsters focused on loading the final boxes, Terrence and Tony slipped away. The storm masked their departure.

"We need to get to the river," Tony muttered as they crouched beneath the bushes. "I remember it's not far. We have to get through these trees."

"Then what?" Terrence was doubtful of crossing a river in the storm. "We don't have a boat."

"We'll have to cross it. It's our only chance." Tony recognized the fear in his friend's eyes. "It's up to you, pal. I won't force you, but it's the only way for us to get out."

The rain was soaking them to the bone. Louie's voice crackled through the night as he ordered the men to hurry and finish the job, or they'd answer to him. The awful sound of Louie's voice sealed the deal. Terrence nodded. "Let's go!"

Their fear propelled them through the tangled bushes and dense forest until they emerged into the open air, the river rushing downstream.

"Think we can make it?" Terrence asked, eyeing the turbulent water.

"Only one way to find out." Taking a deep breath, Tony plunged into the river. Reluctantly, Terrence followed.
*****

CHAPTER 43
Seconds in the raging water, Terrence regretted his decision. Rain pelted his face as he kicked furiously, and his arms flailed against the relentless current. His muscles burned from his effort. His lungs screamed for air.

"Tony!" He bellowed for his friend as the muddy water dragged him beneath the surface. Coughing and spitting the filthy river water from his mouth, he screamed once more, "Tony, help me."

By some miracle, he felt a hand grasp his wrist. Their eyes locked as Tony clutched Terrence tightly. A deafening clap of thunder boomed across the sky as Tony shouted, "Don't let go! I've got you."

Together, they battled through the raging water, every stroke a struggle against the river's fury. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the churning waters and the muddy shore in the distance.

Terrence's strength was waning; his arms and legs were sluggish. He could feel the current pulling him down. "Let go, Tony. Save yourself."

"No, we are in this together." Tony dug deeper, praying for strength he wasn't sure he had. "Dear God, please don't let it end like this."

Suddenly, a large tree branch hurtled through the air and crashed mere inches from the boys. With wide-eyed astonishment, they wrapped their arms around it and clung on, floating away as the branch carried them downstream and out of the storm.

Gasping and coughing, they pulled their exhausted bodies onto the muddy bank, collapsing in a disheveled heap. They lay there for a moment, their bodies battered and spent but breathing. Each one was panting heavily, wondering how they were still alive.

Terrence turned to Tony, a faint, tired smile tugging at his lips. "We did it, man. We really did it."

Tony laughed in disbelief. "Yeah, we did."

"Lucky that tree branch came along. I couldn't have lasted another minute.

Tony's eyes drifted upwards at the clearing sky. "Yeah, it just dropped out of the sky." Tony's prayer flashed through his mind. "Came in the nick of time, that's for sure."

"Well, we're safe now." Terrence sighed.

Tony shook his head. "Not just yet. We've got to keep moving."

As the boys struggled to their feet, weighed down by their water-soaked clothing, a sudden chill filled the air, making the hairs on the back of their necks bristle. A mist coiled around them, and a deep, ominous voice shattered the silence.

"Leaving so soon, boys?"

Terrence and Tony whirled around in disbelief to see Benny hovering just above the ground. His eyes glinted with an eerie light. He raised his glass of bourbon and offered a toast: "To saving your life."

Terrence stammered, "Who — who are you?"

Tony gulped. "You — dropped that log — for us to snag onto?"

"Yup, that was me. "

"Are you some kind of angel or something?" Terrence couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening.

Benny laughed and took a long, deliberate sip of his bourbon. "Me, an angel? Naw, not by a long shot!"

Terrence took a step backward. "I never seen a real person float before. So, if you're not an angel —" He swallowed hard. "Are we dead?" His eyes widened as he spun to face his friend, grabbing his wet shirt. "Tony, we didn't make it. We're dead and going to hell."

"Stop it, Terrence! I don't know what's happening, but I know I am not dead." He pinched his friend, who yelped and pulled away. "And neither are you."

Amused, Benny chuckled and allowed himself to materialize fully in front of the boys. "Name's Benny," he offered as he looked at them intensely. "Like the guys you're running from, I used to be a hitman. The only difference is I've been dead a while now. And I've seen what happens to folks who don't change their ways."

Terrence sank to the ground, his body trembling in fear. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. "Did you hear him, Tony? He said — he was dead."

Tony gulped, his voice barely above a whisper. "I heard him." Tony struggled to speak, not wanting to collapse onto the ground like his friend. "What do you want from us?"

The glass of bourbon vanished from Benny's hand as his expression turned serious. "I want a promise. You boys are lucky to be alive right now. Most don't get that chance." He looked at Terrence and Tony, their heads nodding in agreement. "Here's the deal. You swear to me, right here and now, that you'll leave this life behind. No more crime. No more running with the wrong crowd. You straighten up — or I'll be back, and I won't be so nice."

Terrence and Tony exchanged a terrified glance before nodding vigorously. Tony answered, "I promise."
 
Still unsure what was happening, Terrence followed suit, stuttering, "I promise. I don't want any part of this life anymore."

Satisfied, Benny smiled. "Just remember, I'll be watching."

With those words, Benny's earthly form faded, the mist dissipating into the night, leaving the boys alone on the riverbank.

Tony's eyes darted around the area before speaking. "Did that really happen?"

Terrence's mouth was gaping as he stared at the spot where Benny had been standing, his arm waving through the empty space. "It sure seemed like it did."

"I say let's get out of here."

"But Tony — where are we going? How do you figure we can start over? We got nothing."

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. We'll figure something out."

Benny's voice filtered through the trees. "Here's something to help you choose the right road, boys. Spend it wisely!"

Cash — hundred-dollar bills — began raining from above. The boys scrambled to collect the money, laughing and crying, each whispering a grateful thank you to the hitman.

*****

The men had loaded the panel trucks and were ready to go. The final crates and boxes were being removed from the mansion. The storm had passed, and everyone's spirits were jovial, anticipating the completion of the heist.

Louie stood near his makeshift desk, contemplating Frankie's reaction when he delivered all the loot to his doorstep. He smiled to himself — smugly remembering the black box of diamonds and gems he'd hidden in his own vehicle. "A babe on one arm and a drink in the other on some private beach. That's my kind of living."

"Were you talking to me, boss?" Marco checked the area as he approached, carrying a portrait.

Unaware he'd spoken out loud, Louie scowled at him. "No — don't tell me the thoughts of ghosts are getting to you too."

"Who me? Not a chance." Marcos smirked.

"What you got there?"

"Oh, this, it's a portrait of a mighty fine-looking woman. Thought it would look good hanging in your office."

In the dim moonlight, Louie examined the portrait. "Yeah, she's a looker alright. Bet she was a tiger under the sheets."

Both men laughed, and Louie set the portrait aside. "Let's wrap this up, Marcos. It's time for us to get out of this place."

"Gotcha, boss! The last crates and boxes are being loaded as we speak. I'll go check on it, and we'll be underway." Marcos headed back toward the tunnel entrance.

Louie settled into his chair and pulled the portrait closer, admiring the woman and fantasizing about having her on his arm, among other things.

Suddenly, a sultry voice emanated from the woman. "Hey, doll face. Do you have any plans for later?"

Louie spun around in his chair, his eyes darting in every direction, settling on a group of men nearby. He yelled in their direction. "Which one of you thinks you're funny?"

They were still trying to figure out what the boss was referring to, and each chimed in.

"Not me, boss."

"Honest, I didn't say a thing."

"Swear, it wasn't me."

Still staring at the men, Louie settled back in his chair.

"How about I show you a good time, Louie? I guarantee you it'll be a night you won't forget."

Wide-eyed, Louie fixed his gaze on the portrait. The woman's lips moved, and she blew him a kiss. "Come on, big boy. Show Betty Lou what you got."

Louie jumped out of his chair, yelling at the men. "Get that portrait out of here. Load it in the truck. I'm not paying you to stand around."

One man hastened to Louie's side and grabbed the portrait, staring at the woman. "She's a looker, boss."

Louie screamed, "Get it out of my sight, I said."

The man turned and hurried away, passing Marcos, who had heard his boss's voice yelling, and hurried to see what was happening.

"What's going on, boss? Thought you were going to hang the portrait in your office?"

His voice shaking, Louie snapped, "Nope! Changed my mind. It won't go with the decor." He settled into his chair, breathing heavily. "Just get rid of it. Burn it! Just get it away from me."

As the worker loaded the portrait into the truck and closed the door, the woman's voice echoed one last time, "See you around, Louie."

The worker looked around, shook his head, and headed toward the front of the truck, muttering, "This place is making everyone crazy."

Louie stood, knowing he couldn't leave the mansion fast enough. He muttered, "Ghosts aren't real." But the lingering chill in the air suggested otherwise.

*****

As the drama unfolded in the bowels of the mansion and out in the fields, Noah and several others had gathered in the library.

Noah ran his finger across the dusty shelf. "I'll have to speak to Lorrie about cleaning and clearing out some of this stuff."

"She's had a few other things on her mind, like keeping us all out of danger and especially watching over Sandra and Madeline." Esther scolded Noah. "Remember, you are new to this spiritual society, regardless if you were lord of the mansion."

Noah chuckled. "Relax, Esther. I was merely making conversation. I would never say anything bad about Lorrie. She's got her moods, but her heart is pure gold."

"Yes, it is." Her face softened as she thought of her newfound friend, Madeline. "Lorrie has taken both women under her wing. Madeline's a changed woman, or so I hear. She's been so nice to me. A true friend."

Now, it was Noah's turn to smile. "Yes, my wife is a new woman. I'm pleased that you have found a shared friendship."

"Madeline is very special. I'm going to miss her when we're gone." Esther's earthly form dimmed as the thought of leaving Madeline behind sunk in. "I hadn't thought about it, but she'll be left alone if the treasure is found."

"Not exactly. I've promised James I would stay and help with the sorting out of things."

Esther's glow brightened. "Madeline will like that."

Will entered the room and moved to his mother's side. "Father says it won't be long now. Plans are in the ready when the mobsters leave the mansion. We're to expect a lot of noise and rumbling within the confines, too."

"They're not exploding the mansion, are they? It frightened us all when Sebastian stopped the demons in the ballroom."

"No, Mother, I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Well, I can't just sit here and wait." Esther glanced around the room at the bookshelves laden with books of every size. All covered with dust. "We have to find that book. After all, we still need to find the real treasure."

"Yes, the book about Italy." Will moved across the room, examining a few shelves.

Noah's brow furrowed in concentration. "I remember seeing it. I believe it was in this library." He, too, pulled several books off the shelf, blew the dust away, and examined the titles. "Books on every topic available."

"Yes, William was quite the collector."

"That he was," exclaimed Will. "Even while I was very young, he always found a book at the market and brought it home to read. Those were some of my fondest moments with him reading to me."

Suddenly, Noah's voice filled the room as he shouted, "I remember where I saw it. It's not this library, it's William's private study. He always kept his favorite books there. I recall Billy telling me the stories of his grandfather reading to him as well."

A spark of hope ignited in Esther's eyes. "William's private study? Are you sure?"

Noah's eyes lit up as he recalled the details. "Yes, I'm certain. Follow me."

He led them through the grand corridors of the mansion, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. They arrived at a heavy oak door, its surface adorned with intricate carvings. Noah pushed it open, revealing a room untouched by time. Shelves lined the walls, filled with rare and valuable books, and a large wooden desk stood at the center.

Noah approached the desk, his fingers trailing over its surface. "I know it's here somewhere."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Rielly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Rielly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 44
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 44

By Begin Again

ENDF OF CHAPTER 43

Suddenly, Noah's voice filled the room as he shouted, "I remember where I saw it! It's not this library, it's William's private study. He always kept his favorite books there. I recall Billy telling me the stories of his grandfather reading to him as well."

A spark of hope ignited in Esther's eyes. "William's private study? Are you sure?"

Noah's eyes lit up as he recalled the details. "Yes, I'm certain. Follow me."

He led them through the grand corridors of the mansion, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. They arrived at a heavy oak door, its surface adorned with intricate carvings. Noah pushed it open, revealing a room untouched by time. Shelves lined the walls, filled with rare and valuable books, and a large wooden desk stood at the center.

Noah approached the desk, his fingers trailing over its surface. "I know it's here somewhere."

*********

CHAPTER 44

Noah tugged on the desk drawer. It had been stuck for so many years in the damp, musty room. A few grunts and tugs, and it opened. Excited, he rummaged through the divided sections, finally pulling out an old, weathered book. "Here it is."

Esther moved closer. "Are you sure it's the one?" She peered over Noah's shoulder, recognizing the boot of Italy. "Oh, Noah, it must be the one."

Will joined them as Noah carefully opened the book. Inside, nestled between the pages, was a faded photograph. Esther gasped, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "That's the picture — the last one I took with you, Will."

Will leaned in closer, his ghostly fingers brushing the photograph. "I remember that day. Father had given me the sword, and you were terrified I would harm myself with it."

Esther smiled at her son. "A little motherly concern. I wonder, whatever happened to the sword?"

Will's eyes widened as he gasped. "The picture must be our clue. The sword was the way to unlock Grandfather's wine cellar. He showed me how it worked. It was the key to unlocking the secret door. I forgot about it until now."
 
"I think there's something written on the back, Esther. What does it say?"
 
Esther turned the picture over. "It says. "To my beloved son, Will. The sword lies in the place where dreams and reality meet. Where we find solace in the past and hope for the future."

Noah's expression grew serious. "A secret wine cellar — of course. But first, we must find the sword. Read it again, Esther. I'm sure that's our clue."

Esther read it again and each of them mulled it over, searching for the answer. Her voice trembled with anticipation. "We're getting closer, Noah. We've got to tell the others. Maybe one of them will understand the clue."

"They're busy right now, but we can search for the sword. Do you have any idea where William is referring to?"

Will shook his head. "I was a child when I played with it. Then I met Rebecca and forgot about the sword. Maybe Lorrie or James, or even Grandfather might recall seeing it."

Noah was thrilled to have helped move his friends one step closer to finding the treasure and their redemption.

Suddenly, everything in the room moved as if the house had belched. Esther's eyes widened. "What was that?"

"Relax. Father warned me that there would be loud noises but that we would be okay."
 
"Will, that was more than just noise." Esther's eyes darted from Will to Noah and then back.

*****

The ground rumbled, an ominous growl deep beneath the earth. The mansion shuddered, creaking and moaning as it twisted on its foundation. A deafening roar echoed through the passageways. A bright flash of light burst forth, illuminating the dark limestone walls.

Dust and debris spilled from the tunnel's mouth, creating a billowing cloud of destruction. The men scattered, their eyes wide with panic.

"Run!" one of them shouted, his voice barely audible over the explosion. In mass confusion, they sprinted towards the line of trucks parked a short distance away, pushing and shoving each other to get ahead.

Ryan and Billy exchanged a quick nod and moved to a nearby stash of fireworks. With a swift movement, they lit the fuses and vanished into the night. Moments later, the sky erupted in a dazzling display of colors, the sound of explosions echoing through the air.

"What was that?" one of the men shouted, ducking instinctively.

A round of poppers followed the colorful display in rapid succession. Each explosion was louder than the one before it. Boom! Boom! Boom!

"We're under attack!" another gangster yelled, pulling out his gun.

"Get down! Everyone, get down!"

Chaos ensued as the gangsters fired wildly into the darkness, their bullets ricocheting off the trees and the surrounding boulders. The sound of gunfire mixed with the booming fireworks.

One gangster, trembling with fear, stumbled and dropped his gun. Leaving it there, he screamed, "We gotta get out of here!"

The nearest truck revved its engine, the driver's hand shaking as he fumbled with the ignition. One by one, the men clambered into the vehicles, throwing open the doors and diving into the cabs. Engines roared to life, the trucks lurched forward with tires spinning and skidding on the muddy ground. Inside the cabs, hearts pounded, and hands gripped the steering wheels with white knuckles. The smell of fear was everywhere.

The loaded vans raced off toward the cemetery exit, leaving a cloud of dirt, tall grass, and anything else in their path flying everywhere.

Louie and Marcos raced toward the black limousine. They scrambled in and slammed the doors. The engine roared to life, and with a screech of tires, they sped off in the opposite direction, hoping to evade the chaos the convoy was leaving behind.

As the last of the gangsters disappeared into the darkness, Benny materialized next to Patrick, grinning from ear to ear. "That was brilliant," he said, taking a satisfied sip from his bourbon.

Patrick chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Indeed, it was. They won't be coming back anytime soon."
 
"I vote they're never coming back."

Ryan, Billy, Benny, and Patrick high-fived each other, knowing they'd done their part in capturing the gangsters. Now, it was up to actual law enforcement to finish the job.

*****

Four police cruisers, hidden within the trees, idled patiently. They waited for Louie's car to approach, the headlights moving closer by the second. As the limo zoomed by, the flashing red and blue lights lit the night as they followed in pursuit.

"They're on to us, Marcos." Louie snarled. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes darting between the grassy road ahead and the rearview mirror. The siren's wails grew louder.

"Faster, Louie!" Marcos shouted. "They're gaining on us!"

Louie pressed the accelerator to the floor. The limo's engine growled in response and lunged forward.

The chase careened through the overgrown field. The car swayed precariously with each sharp turn. Sweat trickled down Louie's forehead as he fought to keep control.

"Hang on!" Louie yelled, his voice strained. They veered sharply toward the rain-ravaged riverbank, the limo's tires struggling for traction on the muddy ground. The river roared nearby, swollen and furious from the recent storm, its banks slick and treacherous.

Suddenly, the rear end of the limo fishtailed. Louie wrestled with the steering wheel, but it was too late. The vehicle spun out of control, its tires screeching and smoking. It careened down a slope toward the river, its front end dipping dangerously as it hurtled toward the water.

With a sickening lurch, the limo hit a large boulder hidden in the tall grass, causing it to flip end over end. Metal screamed and glass shattered as the vehicle tumbled, the world a blur of darkness and debris. The impact threw Louie and Marcos about inside, jarring every bone in their bodies.

The crumpled and twisted limo came to rest on its roof. There was an eerie silence for a moment, broken only by the distant roar of the river and the wail of sirens growing closer. Black smoke curled from the wreckage, an ominous prelude to the inevitable.

Louie, dazed and bloodied, looked over at Marcos, who was pinned awkwardly by his seatbelt, blood seeping profusely from a gash on his forehead. The smell of gasoline filled the air.

"This is it, isn't it?" Marcos rasped, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "We're done for."

Louie nodded slowly, a sense of resignation washing over him. "Yeah, time to pay the piper, as they say."

In that moment, a flash of remorse flickered in Louie's eyes. All the choices and mistakes led to this final, catastrophic end. On the other hand, Marcos held onto a sliver of arrogance, even as the flames licked at the twisted metal around them.

"They'll remember us, though," Marcos muttered. "We didn't go down easy."

Louie managed a weak chuckle, the sound hollow in the face of their imminent demise. "No, we didn't. We'll make headlines tomorrow."

The flames grew, the heat intensifying. Louie closed his eyes, a final thought of regret for the life he had led. Marcos, too, accepted his fate with a grimace, the arrogance fading to a sad acceptance.

The explosion came with a deafening roar, a fiery burst that lit up the night sky. A ball of fire and smoke marked the end of their desperate flight as the explosion consumed the limo.

The police cars screeched to a halt at the edge of the riverbank, officers rushing out, their faces illuminated by the orange glow of the blaze. They watched helplessly as the flames devoured the wreckage, the fate of Louie and Marcos sealed in a final, fiery blaze.

*****

Far on the other side of the mansion near the cemetery, the loaded vans sped toward the clearing, oblivious to what was happening with Louie and Marcos. As they approached, the last bursts of light from the fireworks illuminated the sky. The law enforcement cruisers and other vehicles hidden among the trees and shrubs switched on their lights. Blue and red flashes cut through the darkness.

The trucks slowed down, the drivers squinting through the glare, realizing too late the trap laid before them. The ring of branches soaked in creosote oil ignited with a whoosh, the flames roaring to life and encircling the clearing in a wall of fire. The searing heat pulsed outward, causing the drivers to swerve in panic.

Tire strips buried in the tall grasses did their work next. The convoy's tires explode one by one with sharp, loud bursts. The trucks lurched and swerved wildly, trying to maintain control. Panic spread through the convoy as drivers fought their vehicles, the air filled with the sounds of rupturing rubber and grinding metal.

Chaos erupted as the trucks came to a halt, their paths blocked by the ring of fire and their tires shredded. The drivers and passengers spilled out, some reaching for weapons, others looking for cover. Tyler, Jack, Michael, and the men moved in, their voices booming commands through the night.

A gunshot cracked through the air, followed by another, and then the scene erupted into a full-blown shootout. Bullets whizzed through the smoke and flames, ricocheting off metal and splintering wood. The sheriff's deputies took cover behind their cars, returning fire.
 
"Stay low, Michael," Jack yelled, realizing it was the young man's first shootout. "Save your ammunition. Shoot when you're sure."
 
The rookie nodded, feeling the moment's exhilaration but recognizing the taste of fear.

Flames flickered and danced, casting long shadows as the firefight continued. The smell of gunpowder mixed with the acrid scent of burning creosote. Shouts and cries punctuated the night. The once peaceful clearing had become a battleground, the fading fireworks now a distant memory against the relentless roar of the confrontation.

The moments stretched on, each feeling like an eternity. Gradually, the gangsters realized that they had been outsmarted, and the gunfire ceased. Law enforcement moved in, handcuffing each of them, glad to see the battle end.
 
*****

Back at the mansion, Sandra paced, her mind racing, praying the plan had worked and everyone was safe. Her mind drifted to Michael and Jack. She'd coaxed them to help fight the battle, and now she waited on pins and needles, hoping they were safe.

Madeline squeezed Lorrie's hand again before stepping forward to join Sandra. "I can't believe how quiet it has gotten. Do you think it is over?"

Sandra nodded, though fear gnawed at her stomach. "It was a good plan. I'm sure it worked."

Lorrie joined them, a determined look on her face. "Have faith, girls. We've come too far for it not to work."

In the dimly lit study of the mansion, ghosts and mortals held their breath, waiting to learn their fate.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Reilly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 45
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 45

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 44
Flames flickered and danced, casting long shadows as the firefight continued. The smell of gunpowder mixed with the acrid scent of burning creosote. Shouts and cries punctuated the night. The once peaceful clearing had become a battleground, the fading fireworks now a distant memory against the relentless roar of the confrontation.

The moments stretched on, each feeling like an eternity. Gradually, the gangsters realized that they had been outsmarted, and the gunfire ceased. Law enforcement moved in, handcuffing each of them, glad to see the battle end.

*****

Back at the mansion, Sandra paced, her mind racing, praying the plan had worked and everyone was safe. Her mind drifted to Michael and Jack. She'd coaxed them to help fight the battle, and now she waited on pins and needles, hoping they were safe.

Madeline squeezed Lorrie's hand again before stepping forward to join Sandra. "I can't believe how quiet it has gotten. Do you think it is over?"

Sandra nodded, though fear gnawed at her stomach. "It was a good plan. I'm sure it worked."

Lorrie joined them, a determined look on her face. "Have faith, girls. We've come too far for it not to work."

In the dimly lit study of the mansion, ghosts and mortals held their breath, waiting to learn their fate.

*****

CHAPTER 45
After the dust settled and arrests were made, the mansion hosted a celebration. With the help of Madeline, Esther, and Sandra, Lorrie prepared a smorgasbord of appetizers fit for a king. Candles flickered everywhere. A roaring fire snapped and crackled in the fireplace. Beverages of all sorts lined the bar and a side table. But most of all, it was a jubilation among the ghosts and mortals. They'd fought the battle together and won.

Jack and Michael stood near the fireplace, happy, exhausted, and proud of what they'd help accomplish today. Even the veteran detective would never have thought it was possible. As a team, they'd rounded up some of the worst gangsters in this community and the city. Tyler had expressed his gratitude many times.

Michael pointed out an old photograph of Patrick in his police uniform. "Isn't that your grandfather?"

Jack smiled. "Yes, it is. I'm so stoked that I got to work beside him today. When I was small, I didn't appreciate who he was or what he did for a living. Now, after all these years on the force, I recognize talent and dedication when I see it."

"You've got his spirit, you know," William said as he joined the two men, his earthly form glowing. "Your grandfather is very proud of you. And so am I."

Jack nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. "I hope so because I am very proud of the two of you, especially after seeing you both in action today."

William laughed. "I think your grandfather thought it was a play day. He was having more fun than he's probably had in years."

Outside, near the edge of the garden, Madeline watched the celebration from a distance. Esther was with William, and she'd found herself alone.

"You should be celebrating. It's a night for everyone."

Madeline felt his presence before she saw him. A soft, comforting warmth. She turned toward his voice. "Noah, she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.

He touched her face, tipping her chin upwards to look into her eyes. "It's a time for celebrating, not crying."

She reached out, her hand passing through his, but the connection was real, a bond unbroken by their past. "I miss you so much. If only I could turn back the hands of time."

"I know. What's done is done. Neither of us can change that. But I'm with you every step of the way."

"But when the treasure is found —"

Noah gazed into her eyes, nothing but love pouring from his eyes. "I'll be right here for as long as you are. I'm committed to staying with James and Lorrie." He paused. "And you, if that's what you want."

"Oh, Noah, you know I do."

"Come. We'll sit a little while under the stars and then join the celebration. It's a night for happiness and renewed bonds between us all."
*****

As the celebration continued, Sandra stepped away, finding solace in the quiet library. As she stood, studying the many portraits on the walls and the bookcases lined with books, she felt a familiar presence and turned to see her father standing there, his ghostly form shimmering in the light.

"Dad," she murmured, her voice filled with love.

Tim smiled warmly, the same comforting smile she remembered from her childhood. "You've done well, Sandra. I'm so proud of you."

She moved closer, feeling his warmth even though she couldn't touch him. "I've missed you so much. You missed so much of my life that I wanted — no, needed you to share."

"I know you didn't understand or know, but I was watching over you every step of the way. You've become everything a father could hope for."

Sandra felt an overwhelming rush of emotions. "I — I wish you were here — really here."

Tim's expression softened. "I'm always with you, Sandra. In every choice you make, in every victory, I'm right here."

She nodded, wiping away a tear. "I know that now, Dad. And I'll keep fighting for you, for me, and anyone else who needs me."

Tim chuckled. "Does that include the young man — I believe his name is Michael?"

"Michael? What's he got to do with anything?" A faint tinge of pink spread across her cheeks.

"I've seen how he looks at you. Fathers know these things."

"I've had my head so wrapped up with ghosts that I guess I hadn't noticed."

"It's time to take notice, my lovely daughter. He's a good man, according to Jack."

Sandra smiled. "Maybe we should rejoin the celebration."

"Good idea. He's probably looking for you."

"Oh, Dad, stop!" Sandra and Tim walked side by side back to the party, feeling something they'd both missed out on and glad they'd gotten a second chance.
*****

Toward the end of the evening celebration, Jack raised a glass, calling for a toast.

"My colleagues in the city would lock me up and throw the key away if I tried to explain these last few days to them, but you and I know what we've gained and who we are. I raise my glass to my friends, some old, some new — some ghosts. To those who have guided, protected, and loved us." Jack turned toward his grandfather, his voice wavering with emotion, "To my grandfather, better known as Patrick, and to William, Billy, Benny, and so many more, including our sisters in this fight — to Sandra, Madeline, Esther, and Lorrie. May you find peace and love in this life and the hereafter."

Glasses clinked, cheers were offered between the others, and memories were made — ones never to be forgotten.
*****

As the celebration continued, William and Patrick knew they still had one critical task — finding the sword.

"Are you sure you don't remember what you did with the sword, William? Seems to me something that precious would be burned into your memory forever."

William shook his head and walked toward the window. "I'm sorry, Patrick. Taking a blow to the head — once with a bullet and then again with whatever Victoria hit me with — well." He shrugged his shoulders. "The memories aren't there. It comes and goes, but I can't promise that I will remember tomorrow."

"Grandfather, don't upset yourself. You can't help not remembering." Billy shot an icy glare at Patrick.

"I'm sorry, William. I have no right to push you that way. I know you are doing the best you can."

"We've made it this far, and if we all remain calm and put our heads together, we can figure this out." Billy moved closer to his grandfather to show his support.

"Billy, I hate to break up the celebration, but I think we should gather Sandra and the others in the library. Time is of the essence. Once the story leaks about the treasure, we have no idea how many other vultures might descend upon us."

"You're right, William. Tell Esther and Noah to bring the clues they discovered this afternoon. Let's get started." Patrick crossed the room to his friend. "I'm sorry, William. I know you want to find the treasure as much as everyone else. I shouldn't have said those things."

William turned from the window and smiled at his friend. "It's okay, Patrick. I wish I could remember."

"We've come this far together and will make it to the end. If any more troublemakers show up around here, Benny and I make a good team at scaring them off." They all laughed, and Billy hurried off to gather the rest of the team.
********

Once the small group gathered in the library, Sandra closed the doors, shutting out the noise and the curious. 

"Esther, could you read the inscription on the back of the picture so everyone hears it?"

"It says - To my beloved son, Will. The sword lies in the place where dreams and reality meet. Where we find solace in the past and hope for the future."

"I remember the picture and playing with the sword when I was young, but it won't help in our search because Billy saw the sword as a boy, too."

"I did! Its ornate hilt and the craftmanship made a lasting impression on me. Grandfather would tell me stories about the sword. He said it was a symbol of our family's legacy."

Madeline nodded, intrigued. "Do you remember where you last saw it?"

Billy closed his eyes, trying to conjure up the image. "There was a hidden compartment in the old library. Grandfather showed it to me once, but I was too young to understand its significance."

"That's where we found the book and the picture," Esther added. "But if the inscription is a clue, I don't think the sword is in William's library."

Sandra joined in the conversation. "Will, the message was written to you. So, can you think of any place that might have been special to you? Someplace you could freely chase your dreams without colliding with everyday reality."

"Not really. I was a bookworm, so the library was my favorite spot unless my father insisted I go outside and play."

"Where would you go then? Billy had a fort and fished with William. Did you do anything like that?" Sandra prodded Will, hoping to shake a forgotten memory loose.

"My best memories are of father reading to me. Besides that, I loved my horses and rode them as fast as possible. I doubt he hid the sword with the horses. Father didn't care to be around the horses much, so he wouldn't have considered that a place of solace."

Esther's eyes lit up. "The rose garden. It has to be there. Remember William? You and Will would sit there for hours, reading."

Billy jumped up and hurried to the door. "The sun is peeking over the horizon. It should be light enough for us to search. Anyone else coming?"

He opened the doors and hurried toward the kitchen and the back door, passing Lorrie, who was trying to clean up the mess from the party.

"Slow down, Billy. What the heck is going on?" She wiped her hands on her apron.

"We think the sword is in the rose garden." He didn't stop to talk further as he raced outside. Lorrie tossed her apron, yelling, "I'm coming," as the other members of the group entered the kitchen. 

Outside, the scent of flowers filled the air. They searched carefully, moving through the bushes and checking every nook and cranny.

Weary from yesterday's battles, James plopped himself on the bench. "I've lived in the carriage house for years. I've never seen anything resembling the sword. Are you sure this is what William is referring to?"

"Not really. But we have to start somewhere. How many of us have come to the garden, upset or happy, to think about what comes next or maybe what might have been? He said where dreams meet reality. He had to mean the rose garden."

Suddenly, Billy stopped pacing around the garden. "You're right, Sandra. Grandfather and I would sit on the bench and stare at the stars. He would tell me to wish upon the stars, and my dreams would come true."

Will's eyes met his father's. "I remember you telling me that the bench held many secrets."

Michael exclaimed, "That's it. You sat on the bench and dreamed of tomorrow. I bet all of you have sat on that bench, prayed for peace, or searched for solutions to your problems." 

James stood, and Billy turned the bench over. "There's another inscription and a drawing of something. It looks like a latch of some sort."

James peered over Billy's shoulder. "I've seen that latch or something similar. It's in the carriage house, near the fireplace. I never paid much attention to it. Just thought it odd that a latch would be in the floorboards."

"Show me, James." Billy opened the door to the carriage house. "This has got to be it."

James entered and went directly to the fireplace, moving the oversized leather chair. "It's right there in the corner, Billy. Take the poker and see if you can break the latch."

The latch was small. But the poker didn't work. Bily hurried outside, got a large stone from the garden, and went back, pounding it against the latch. After two good hits, it broke. Using the poker, he pried it open, exposing a hidden compartment under the floor. It didn't take long for him to pry up a few floorboards and recover what was hidden inside. Wrapped in a velvet cloth was the sword. Its blade gleamed, and the hilt bore the intricate family crest.

Billy and James yelled to the others. "We found it! We found it!"

A bevy of cheers exploded in the rose garden as Billy carried the sword outside. He brought the sword to his grandfather, tears in his eyes. "Grandfather, we found the sword. I told you we could do it."

William's eyes brimmed with tears as he stared at his grandson. "I never doubted you, Billy. Not once!"

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Reilly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 46
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 46

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 45
James stood, and Billy turned the bench over. "There's another inscription and a drawing of something. It looks like a latch of some sort."

James peered over Billy's shoulder. "I've seen that latch or something similar. It's in the carriage house, near the fireplace. I never paid much attention to it. Just thought it odd that a latch would be in the floorboards."

"Show me, James." Billy opened the door to the carriage house. "This has got to be it."

James entered and went directly to the fireplace, moving the oversized leather chair. "It's right there in the corner, Billy. Take the poker and see if you can break the latch."

The latch was small. But the poker didn't work. Bily hurried outside, got a large stone from the garden, and went back, pounding it against the latch. After two good hits, it broke. Using the poker, he pried it open, exposing a hidden compartment under the floor. It didn't take long for him to pry up a few floorboards and recover what was hidden inside. Wrapped in a velvet cloth was the sword. Its blade gleamed, and the hilt bore the intricate family crest.

Billy and James yelled to the others. "We found it! We found it!"

A bevy of cheers exploded in the rose garden as Billy carried the sword outside. He brought the sword to his grandfather, tears in his eyes. "Grandfather, we found the sword. I told you we could do it."

William's eyes brimmed with tears as he stared at his grandson. "I never doubted you, Billy. Not once!"

*****

CHAPTER 46

Lorrie beamed as she stood on the porch, clanging a spoon against one of her kettles. The excitement in the rose garden made it difficult to hear. Her voice rang out as she moved to the end of the wooden boards. "Breakfast is waiting for you! You'll need your strength to haul that treasure up out of the bowels of this mansion. So come along. You can make plans at the dining room table." Regardless of how thrilled she was for the group, she still kept a tight rein on her duties of caring for them.

As the group entered the house, Lorrie nodded and said, "My grandma always told me that a good meal in your belly is the best armor for any battle. In this case, the hunt for the treasure."

Breakfast was a hearty affair, with the scent of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The old wooden dining table creaked under the weight of the feast, and the sound of clinking cutlery and cheerful chatter filled the room. The sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting a warm glow over the ghosts and mortals around the table.

As the meal ended, James finally broached the topic of the sword. "Will or Billy, do you recall anything about the sword? Was it used for anything special besides fighting off the enemy?"

Will thought for a minute, trying to sift through decades of memories. "I'd forgotten, but Father showed me how it opened a door. Well, it's not a door, more like a panel or something else. I don't remember clearly."

Billy leaned forward, his arms extending across the table toward his father. "Could it have been a bookcase?"

"A bookcase would be too heavy to move. It must have been something else."

"Well, I never saw the sword work or the bookcase move, but one day, Grandfather was working in his study, and he was called away. I'd been told to stay out of the study when he wasn't there, but I'd left something there. I don't recall what it was, but I wanted to retrieve it. So, with a young boy's mentality, I opened the library door and hurried inside, praying I wouldn't get caught. The bookcase was tilted away from the wall, and there was an enormous gaping hole. I couldn't resist sneaking a peek and crept over and peered into the darkness. Just then, Grandfather returned, and his voice thundered across the room. I scrambled so fast to get out of there. I never dared to bring it up again."

James spoke to William, "Do you have any memory of the sword opening a door or moving a bookcase?"

William's eyes were vacant as he stared across the table. Esther reached out to comfort him. "It's okay, William. You're doing your best. The boys will figure it out."

He turned toward her and tried to smile. "If only I could remember, it would be much easier for everyone."

"Grandfather, don't worry. We've gotten this far. It's like those puzzles we used to solve — trial and error, one piece at a time."

"Billy's right. We can do this," Sandra added. "No one expected it to be easy, and the burden shouldn't lie on one person's shoulders."

Esther smiled at Sandra, silently thanking her for easing William's stress.

Patrick had been quietly listening to everyone while he finished his coffee. "I think we should start in the library. If Billy's recollection is right, it seems like a strong possibility. We should check it out."

James pushed his chair away from the table and stood. "Then I suggest we go to William's old library."

Excited, everyone stood and followed James and Patrick through the corridors, deeper into the mansion.

The group entered the old library, dust motes dancing in the golden sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows. The air was heavy with the musty scent of old books, and the shelves loomed over them like silent sentinels of knowledge.

James carefully examined the sword in his hands as the group gathered around the dusty old bookcases. Its intricate design seemed to whisper secrets of the past.

"There's something peculiar about this," James murmured, running his fingers along the hilt. "There's a slight indentation near the top of the blade."

Will leaned closer, examining the sword. "You're right. Almost like the indentations of a key."

Suddenly, William started pacing around the room, stopping to touch a piece of furniture or old memento and moving again.

Billy hurried to his grandfather's side. "Do you remember something?"

William stared at his grandson momentarily and then answered, "I do. The sword works like a key. There's a matching slot. He shook his head. "But where?"

"Billy said he saw a bookcase sitting ajar." The long row of bookcases flanked two sides of the room. "Everyone examine them for a slot of some sort."

After several minutes, Billy yelled, "I think I found something! There's an opening at the base of this bookcase."

With a deep breath, James knelt beside Billy and slid the sword into the opening. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft click, the mechanism engaged. The bookcase vibrated as if its dusty bones were shaking off layers of dust — the sound of gears turning echoed through the room.

Slowly, the bookcase swung open, revealing a hidden doorway. Gasps of surprise circled the room.

Lorrie's eyes were wide with surprise. "What do you see, James?"

"Not much. It's very dark. There appears to be a narrow wooden staircase descending into the cellar." The scent of aged wine, musty walls, and decades of silt wafted upward to greet them.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sandra said, stepping forward. "Let's see what lies beneath."

*****

A musty smell filled the air as they peered into the dimly lit opening. The wooden stairs, barely visible in the faint light, looked old and decayed. Patches of mold crept along the edges. James tested the first step cautiously. The wood creaked ominously under his weight.

Lorrie fretted and twisted her apron. "Be careful, James. Those stairs have seen better days."

Sandra nodded in agreement, gripping the shaky railing and following James down the steps. Each step groaned louder than the last, the wood threatening to give way.

Having chosen to follow Sandra, Michael waited for them to start their descent, then followed a few steps behind.

Suddenly, halfway down, the stairs let out a loud crack. Sandra gasped as her footing slipped, her arms flailing in the darkness.

"Watch out!" Michael yelled, frantically reaching out for Sandra's arm.

Before they could react, the steps beneath James collapsed, sending him and Sandra tumbling into the darkness below. The wood splintered and shattered, echoing against the walls.

"James! Sandra!" Lorrie shouted, panic rising as she clung to the edge of the broken staircase. Her eyes were wide with fear. "Michael, be careful. The remaining stairs may fall."

Finally, they heard James groan from below. "We're okay." His voice was strained as he inspected Sandra's scraped arm. "A bit shaken, but nothing's broken."

Sandra turned her flashlight upward, and the beam danced across several faces, peering back at them. Lorrie's face was pale. "We'll have to find another way to get down there."

Having returned to the top landing, Michael peered into the cavern, his world suddenly shaken. "I'm sorry, Sandra. I tried to catch you."

Sandra answered this time. "It's just a few scrapes and bruises. I might have a different story tomorrow, though." She wiped away the dirt and a trickle of blood, examining the scraped area. "It could have been much worse."

James called up to Michael, "Do you think you or one of the guys could find a rope? Maybe you could use it to lower yourselves down. I thought of using these crates, but they might break apart as well."

Michael was quick to answer. "They are probably too heavy for you and Sandra to move, anyway."

Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We could use ropes. Secure them to something sturdy and rappel down."

"Good idea, "Jack agreed. "Lorrie, can you show us where the ladder is so we can check it out?"

"Of course. Madeline, I remember there was some rope in the carriage house. Could you find it?"

As the group dispersed to gather their supplies, Esther's translucent body floated toward William, sitting in a chair and staring out the window. "William, you look concerned. Is it because James and Sandra fell? They said they were alright. You should be happy. They are close to finding the treasure."

He turned from the window, his eyes filled with sadness. "I know, but what if they walk into their demise?"

As Esther spoke, her excitement faded, and fear took its place, "Oh heavens, William. What do you mean?"

"They've had to combat the demons at every turn. What if there are more guarding the vault? They won't give it up easily."

Madeline had returned with the rope and overheard Esther and William talking. "More demons? Do you think that's possible?"

William nodded. "I don't know what to think anymore. I don't want to be responsible for sending everyone into another battle. They've faced demons and gangsters already. When does this end?"

The men had found the fire escape and brought it into the room. Will and Billy were the first to enter. "When does what end, Father?"

Madeline spoke, "He's worried that there might be more demons guarding the treasure."

Will and Billy exchanged glances and then turned to Jack and Michael. "My grandfather believes there might be more demons awaiting us below. If there are, it's a possibility we might not come out of the battle, especially you mortals."

"Billy is right." Will shook his head. "We can't ask you to risk your lives again for us."

Jack and Michael responded in unison, "You're not asking!"

Michael looked at Jack and then the others. "I didn't know what we were getting into at first, but now that I do, I can't abandon friends."

Jack smiled at Michael, proud of how much he'd matured in such a short time. "Me too! We're going to see this through."

"Then let's get busy." Benny and Billy lowered the fire escape ladder into the darkness. They slowly descended, checking its safety. Michael tied several thick ropes to the top and fastened them to the heavy desk and bookcases.

"Maybe the women should stay behind." Will looked at Madeline. "No offense, but you don't look like the rope-climbing type."

Madeline's eyes turned dark. "I'll not be left behind. After what I've faced in this mansion, I'll see it to the end."

Billy interjected, "Calm down, Madeline. I think Will was only thinking of your safety. Of course, if you want to come, you can."

Lorrie grabbed the rope and tossed it into the darkness. "Well, no one will be stopping me. I'll be going first."

Benny and Billy floated ahead, their ghostly forms providing a dim light. The mortals lowered themselves onto the rusty ladder one by one and started their descent. They could feel the cool, damp air from the cellar wafting up.

"Take it slow," Jack called up to the others as he descended. James waited at the bottom, watching for any other danger.

Step by step, they made their way down the fire escape ladder, the old metal groaning under their weight. When they finally reached the bottom, Sandra swung the flashlight around, revealing the expanse of the cellar. Dust motes danced in the light beam, and the rows of empty wine racks cast eerie shadows on the walls.

Her eyes met Michael's as he rushed to her side. Trying to break the tension, Sandra laughed. "Just another adventure at the mansion."

Lorrie was quick to respond, "Yes, it is, deary. So, let's get started."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Reilly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 47
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 47

By Begin Again

END OF CHAP 46
Lorrie grabbed the rope and tossed it into the darkness. "Well, no one will be stopping me. I'll be going first."

Benny and Billy floated ahead, their ghostly forms providing a dim light. The mortals lowered themselves onto the rusty ladder one by one and started their descent. They could feel the cool, damp air from the cellar wafting up.

"Take it slow," Jack called up to the others as he descended. James waited at the bottom, watching for any other danger.

Step by step, they made their way down the fire escape ladder, the old metal groaning under their weight. When they finally reached the bottom, Sandra swung the flashlight around, revealing the expanse of the cellar. Dust motes danced in the light beam, and the rows of empty wine racks cast eerie shadows on the walls.

Her eyes met Michael's as he rushed to her side. Trying to break the tension, Sandra laughed. "Just another adventure at the mansion."

Lorrie was quick to respond, "Yes, it is, deary. So, let's get started."
*****

CHAPTER 47
"Well, that was interesting." Jack shook his head. "I wasn't sure that rusty fire escape would hold us."

"It did its job, but if we find the treasure, how will we get it out of here?" Michael asked.

"I'm not sure I want to go back up that ladder, let alone carry stuff up it." Madeline turned to look at James. "You're the idea man, James. Got a solution?"

James looked around, his eyes landing on some dust wine crates. "Those crates are heavy, but maybe together we could lift them and stack them on top of each other like stairs."

"It's worth a try. Because treasure or not, I don't want to stay in this musty place longer than necessary." Madeline sneezed. "There's so much dust and debris the treasure could be right in front of us, and we wouldn't see it."
 
James confirmed Madeline's thoughts. "I think she's right. Considering the unknown, we should ensure an escape route if needed."

They set to work, carefully arranging the crates to form a makeshift staircase. Though covered with dust and debris, the crates were solid wood and had withstood the test of time in the damp cellar.

Once the crates were moved, a faint draft emanated from behind a row of barrels, and Jack felt it. "Hey, guys, I feel a breeze over here."

Sandra rushed to his side. "He's right! I feel it, too."

Jack moved the barrels aside, and Michael and the other men joined in to help. Behind them, a narrow tunnel emerged, its entrance partially obscured by thick cobwebs.

Sandra peered into the tunnel. "This might lead outside," she said. "It could be an old escape route or a service tunnel."

"Why don't one or two of us squeeze through the entrance and check it out? The rest of you can wait here. We should only be a few minutes."

"We?" Michael laughed at Jack and patted his protruding belly. "I don't think you'll get through the entrance, my friend."

Jack laughed and looked down at his stomach. "You're probably right."

Billy and Will looked at each other and then volunteered. Billy spoke first, "We have no idea where that leads or if any trouble awaits."
 
Amd Will added, "Let us go because we're thin and can disappear if need be."

"Okay, you've got me there." Jack moved away from the tunnel entrance, allowing Billy and Will to slip past him. "Be careful."

Once Billy and Will were out of sight, James started exploring the vast cellar, hoping to find the treasure or another tunnel leading to another room.

"Do you mind if I search over here with you?"

The enormous wine barrels and layers of cobwebs hid Sandra, and she was startled when she heard another voice. She spun around, stopping only inches from Michael's face. Their eyes met, and Sandra felt a warm rush over her body.

She stepped away, brushing off some cobwebs. "You surprised me. I didn't expect the others to be so adventurous. It's dark and dirty back here."

"Guess I'm the adventurous type. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"You are welcome to join me, but be prepared to battle spiders and cobwebs. They have claimed this area as their domain."

"Duly noted." Michael laughed, and the two moved barrels, crates, and boxes about, jumping now and then to give a giant spider the right of passage. The musty smell of the cellar filled their nostrils, and their footsteps echoed in the dimly lit space. Michael's hands trembled as he pulled an old canvas out of the way, the rough texture of the fabric scraping against his skin.

A rush of excitement filled his body. He couldn't believe what he'd found. "Sandra, look at this."

She hurried to his side. "Oh, wow. It's an ornate trunk of some kind. Could that — be the treasure?"

"I doubt it would hold all the things William said were hidden, but maybe it contains something." Michael found a rock and struck the lock. After the second blow, the rust on the lock surrendered to defeat, and the lock crumbled into pieces.

Smiling, he lifted the lid, sending dust flying everywhere. Inside, they found not just a few trinkets but a treasure trove. Bundles of cash, glittering jewels, and a vintage Tommy gun nestled among the riches.

Sandra couldn't contain her squeals as she stared at its contents. Her heart was pounding as she moved closer to the chest. She gasped when Michael uncovered a beautifully ornate box. He lifted it out and handed it to her. "I've never seen anything so interesting. It's exquisite."

Sandra placed it atop one of the crates and slowly lifted the lid. Inside, she found a bundle of old letters tied with a ribbon. She opened one and began to read, her eyes widening with each word. "Oh, Michael, these are love letters," she whispered. "Written by William to Esther. This one details his remorse and his desire to change. It's a side of him we never knew."

She slipped the letter back into the envelope. "I feel as if I'm prying into their past. I've got to give these to Esther." As Sandra pressed the letter to her chest, she couldn't help wondering if she'd ever find such a true, lasting love.
 
While watching her glowing smile in the dimly lit cellar, Michael had a few thoughts of his own.

*****

Billy and Will's translucent forms moved effortlessly through the narrow passage. Brushing aside layers of cobweb, they encountered old, rusted tools, indicating this tunnel had not been used for centuries.

Billy wiped a cobweb from his face. "This place is ancient. Older than you."

"Hilarious," Will smirked. "But you are right. There is no way that Father used this tunnel to hide the treasure."

"Let's keep going. Maybe there are more clues."

After several minutes of navigating the winding tunnel, they saw a faint light ahead. They quickened their pace and emerged into a small chamber, opening into a much brighter space.

Relieved, Will yelled, "We've found an exit."

Billy spotted another entrance as they slipped out of the tunnel and into the overgrown vegetation. Curious, they moved toward it, passing through the rugged terrain, and found themselves inside the estate, in a different part of the mansion. This tunnel opened into a much larger cavern.

On one side, ornate swords and weapons hung on the wall. On the other side, old crates partially concealed a heavy, iron-clad door. It had intricate carvings and a large, ancient lock.

Billy examined the door, running his fingers across the carvings and lock. "This looks like a vault. Do you think the treasure could be in there?"

Will's eyes lit up with excitement. "It could be. For sure, something important must be inside."

"Or more trouble." Billy's thoughts flashed back to the ballroom.

"We can forget we found it." Will could see the frustration on his son's face. "You've fought a lot of battles. You can't help if they've left scars."

"I know, but this treasure is for all of us. We can't stop now."

"I agree. No matter what's in there, we do it together."

Decision made — Billy looked around the room. "We've got to tell the others. I wonder if the tunnel goes deeper into the house, maybe even the wine cellar."

"We won't know till we try it out." With that, both of them floated swiftly into the tunnel.

Within a short distance, they both came to an abrupt stop.

"It's a dead-end. The tunnel stops." Billy's elation fizzled like a dead firecracker.

"That doesn't make any sense. Why go to the effort of digging a tunnel this far and then stop? It must go somewhere. Maybe there's another secret opening."

Frustration gnawed at both of them as they scanned the rough-hewn walls. As they were about to give up, Billy noticed an oddly placed stone that seemed out of alignment with the others.

"I might have something." With a hesitant push, the stone shifted, emitting an eerie grinding noise.

Billy's eyes widened as the secret door swung open, revealing the faint glow of torchlight from the other side. Heart racing with anticipation, he cautiously entered the newly uncovered passage.

Meanwhile, in the expansive wine cellar, James engrossed in his own search, froze as a section of the wall opposite him creaked open. Dust danced in the sudden draft, revealing a wide passage leading downwards.

His curiosity piqued, he cautiously approached the newly revealed entrance. His breathing was heavy.

Excited, Billy called out, "Anyone there?"

"Billy, is that you?" James called.

"It sure is. Bring the others. Dad and I think we found the vault."

James turned and called out to the others. "Billy and Will have found something. Follow me through here."

*****

The group worked together in the hidden chamber to clear the crates and examine the lock.

Sandra brushed cobwebs from her hair as she approached the vault door. "This lock is ancient. There must be a trick to it."

Madeline peered over Sandra's shoulder. "Look, there's another strange slit in the door. Maybe it uses one of those swords on the wall or Will's sword."

"Good idea, Madeline. We should go back and get it," Michael suggested. "I'll go."

"No need!" A voice spoke from the tunnel.

Everyone spun around, their eyes wide, wondering who was coming and what would happen.

William and Esther emerged from the tunnel, a surprise that stunned the group.

"Grandfather — Esther, you shouldn't have come down here," Billy exclaimed.

"I couldn't stop him. He said he belonged in the fight if there was to be a battle for the treasure. He blames himself for all you've endured."

Breathing heavily in the dusty room, William moved across the room, running his hand over the lock. Memories flowed through his mind, and his eyes lit up. "You've found it! I remember!"

Esther's gasp echoed through the room, a sound that mirrored the shock on everyone's faces.

"Father, are you saying you remember the room? How can that be?"

A bright glow appeared near the tunnel, and Sebastian appeared. "The grace of the counsel has granted him the return of his memories."

Benny felt thrilled but also slightly irritated. "Hey man, I'm glad for William, but couldn't they have made that decision long before we went through all this?"

Sebastian smiled. "I know you've all faced many difficult times, but look around you. You have gained so much more — friendship, loyalty, and the ability to band together for the betterment of all."

They all looked around the room at each other, smiling and nodding, understanding what Sebastian had said.

"That's our true redemption, isn't it?" Benny asked.

Sebastian's glow brightened. "You've learned a lot, like helping the boys."

Lorrie turned to Benny with a quizzical look. "Helping the boys?"

Benny shrugged, but Sebastian filled everyone in. Benny aided Terrence and Tony in their escape while Jack and Michael worked on trapping the mob.

Lorrie and the others smiled. "I guess we've all changed."

Madeline moved toward Esther. "I know I have. I discovered what true friendship and caring were all about."

Esther's translucent body glowed. "Me too!"

A good feeling settled over the group, something they hadn't felt for a long time.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Reilly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 48
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 48

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 47

A bright glow appeared near the tunnel, and Sebastian appeared. "The grace of the counsel has granted him the return of his memories."

Benny felt thrilled but also slightly irritated. "Hey man, I'm glad for William, but couldn't they have made that decision long before we went through all this?"

Sebastian smiled, "I know you've all faced many difficult times, but look around you. You gained so much more — friendship, loyalty, and the ability to band together as one for the betterment of all."

They all looked around the room at each other, smiling and nodding their heads, understanding what Sebastian had said.

"That's our true redemption, isn't it?" Benny asked.

Sebastian's glow brightened. "You've learned a lot, like helping the boys."

Lorrie turned to Benny with a quizzical look. "Helping the boys?"

Benny shrugged, but Sebastian filled everyone in. Benny aided Terrence and Tony in their escape while Jack and Michael worked on trapping the mob.

Lorrie and the others smiled. "I guess we've all changed."

Madeline moved toward Esther. "I know I have. I discovered what true friendship and caring were all about."

Esther's translucent body glowed. "Me too!"

A good feeling settled over the group, something they hadn't felt for a long time.

******

CHAPTER 48

"I brought the sword." William held it out to his son. "You can slide it in the slot."

Will's face filled with emotions. "No, you should do it, Father. After all, it is your treasure."

William shuffled forward, stopping to face the group. "It's our treasure — for the good of all." He lifted the sword and shoved it into the slot. They heard a humming sound, followed by grinding noises, but the door didn't open.

Will and Billy tugged on the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"The key!" Sandra exclaimed. "Remember, Victoria had the key."

Esther's eyes lit up. "Actually, William had the key, and he gave it to me." She slipped her hand into the pocket in her dress and brought out a key. "Here — I think this might work."

Billy took the key from his grandmother and returned to the door. "I don't see anywhere to use it."

William pointed to a tiny slot near the hinge. "It unlocks over there."

Billy knelt and slipped in the key. Esther's ethereal form flickered excitedly as she floated beside William and Sebastian. Everyone in the room pressed closer, eager to see what lay behind the door.

"William should do the honors," Sandra exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement.

Billy stepped aside so his grandfather could move closer. "Are you ready, Grandfather?"

William nodded. Billy turned the rusted key in the lock. William tugged it, but it didn't move. Standing, Billy laid his hand on his grandfather's and smiled. "Let's do this together."

The door creaked open, revealing a vast chamber. The air was thick with the scent of old wood, dust motes, and forgotten treasures.

Madeline gasped, "We found it!"

A burst of cheers filled the chamber. Patrick smiled at their excitement, commenting, "And no demons to battle."

*****

Inside, the chamber was vast, with shelves lining the walls, floor to ceiling. Large wooden chests were everywhere. Madeline, her heart pounding, walked cautiously to one of the chests and lifted the lid. She saw stacks of money bundled together, glittering jewels, and antique artifacts.

"This is incredible," she whispered. "But it's much more than money and jewels."

Jack and Michael joined Madeline, peering into the chest.

"Wow, look at those brass knuckles." Michael's excitement exploded. "Jack, I'm sure that's Al Capone's "Sweetheart" and maybe the Luger could have belonged to Legs Diamond."

Jack lifted the lid of the chest next to that one and whistled. "Michael, look at these. It's filled with vintage guns from every era."

Esther floated to a nearby shelf and carefully unwrapped a bundle. Inside was a beautifully preserved medieval sword, its blade gleaming in the light. She turned it over in her hands, and a chill swept through the room.

"This belonged to my great-great-grandfather," she murmured. "He fought in the Battle of Hastings with this sword."

William moved to her side, nodding. "It used to hang above the mantel in their old home until the home burnt down. My grandfather found it, and it hung above his mantel."

Patrick discovered a painting hidden behind stacks of books. It was a portrait of a woman, her eyes filled with sorrow. "William, this can't be! Is this one of Caravaggio's lost works?" He recognized the Italian painter's style and gasped, "It must be worth a fortune."

As they continued to uncover the treasures, the enormity of their discovery sank in. Each antique, painting, and striking piece of jewelry told a story, revealing the family's rich history, dark secrets of William's mob days, and so much more.

James picked up an ancient book, its cover worn but the pages intact. He marveled as he turned the pages. "This is a manuscript from the Renaissance. William, I had no idea how much history was hidden within the mansion walls."

As the group continued to explore the chamber, each discovery brought a mixture of emotions. There was joy in finding the incredible treasures, sorrow for all the lives lost and the secrets buried, and hope for the redemption they sought.

Esther, tears glistening in her eyes, turned to Sebastian. "This treasure has the power to redeem all of us, but it's not just about the items we found, but the stories they tell and the lessons we learn from them. William has done a good thing."

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, he has."

*****

After many hours of discovery, many of the group wandered to the rose garden or the back porch to enjoy the beautiful starlit night.

Sandra gazed over the rose garden, remembering the recent discoveries, the friendships developed in this spot, and how her life had changed. She'd never expected to find a haunted house nor fall in love with ghosts when she arrived, but now — she knew she couldn't write the story she'd promised to deliver to her boss. Her time within the mansion was far too personal to be smeared in one of Les's tabloids.

Michael joined her, breaking the silence. "Sandra, have you thought about what you'll do next? Will you stay at the mansion or return to the city and your job?"

Sandra sighed, glancing at Michael. "I honestly don't know. I've grown attached to this place —and everyone in it. But their lives are about to change, and mine, too. I can't see myself working with Les, not after I learned what true investigating is about."

Michael's expression was thoughtful as he listened. "You've accomplished so much here. Distributing the treasure and helping the ghosts find redemption will be monumental, but don't you have your own dreams?"

"That's just it. I promised to distribute the treasure, not knowing what a huge task it would be, and I want to honor that. At the same time, I want to face new challenges and follow other investigations. I'm needed here, but the lure of the city is part of me."

Michael smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting his thoughts. "I can't deny that I'd like to see you return to the city, but you have to decide. Just follow your heart."

Sandra's heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. "It's strange, but I feel a special connection with you. Something I've never felt before." Blushing, she turned away, afraid to look into his eyes.

A smile played at the corners of Michael's lips as he leaned in closer, his breath against her cheek. "Maybe we can figure this out together. Whatever the future holds, I would like to be a part of it — with you."

Without another word, Sandra closed the distance between them, her lips finding his in a tender, lingering kiss. As they separated, their foreheads rested together, and Sandra knew that no matter where her path led her, she wanted Michael by her side.

******

Nearby, Patrick and William watched the scene unfold. Patrick smiled and raised his glass toward William. "To the future."

William chuckled. "Should we tell them?"

Esther glanced at Madeline before speaking. "Not a chance, William."

Madeline agreed. "Let them figure it out on their own."

Ester and Madeline stood, leaving their comfortable rocking chairs behind. Esther smiled at William. "Why don't we go inside?"

"But it's nice out here." William sighed.

"I could make it uncomfortable, William, unless you and Patrick decide to leave those two alone for a bit."

Patrick and William nodded, "Love is in the air."

The foursome continued bantering as they made their way into the house.

William took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious aroma floating through the kitchen. "Something smells wonderful. I think that's one thing I will miss about this mansion — Lorrie's cooking."

*****

The following morning, Esther stood with William, their son, Will, and grandson, Billy — their ghostly forms more solid and radiant than ever before. They could feel the pull of the next world, but there was one more thing Esther had to do before she could leave.

She found Madeline in the rose garden, where they spent many hours talking and sharing their hopes and fears. Madeline was alone on the bench. She looked up as Esther approached, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Madeline," Esther began, her voice soft and filled with sadness. "The time has come for me to leave."

Madeline attempted to smile as tears rolled down her cheeks. She stood and moved closer to Esther. "I knew this day would come, but didn't want it to be so soon."

Esther reached out to touch Madeline's hand. "I wouldn't have found peace without you. You have been my anchor, my friend. I can't thank you enough."

Madeline's voice trembled. "What will I do without you? You've been like a sister to me."

"You will continue to be strong, kind, and brave. Remember that even though I am leaving, a part of me will always be with you."

Madeline nodded, unable to speak. She took a deep breath and smiled through her tears. "I'll never forget you, Esther. You've shown me how to love again. Our friendship will transcend even death."

They embraced, and for a moment, it felt like any other goodbye between friends. When they pulled apart, Esther reached into her pocket and brought out a small locket. She pressed it into Madeline's hand. "Take this. It's a reminder of our bond."

Madeline stared at the locket, her heart swelling with emotion. "Thank you. This means more to me than you will ever know."

William and Will appeared on the porch, their presence a gentle reminder that it was time to go. Esther turned to them and then back to Madeline. "Goodbye, my dear friend. Until we meet again."
 
As the trio walked away, Noah appeared at Madeline's side, his presence speaking volumes to her. He whispered, "I'm here for you."

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Reilly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters


Chapter 49
The Unwilling Heir - The End

By Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 48
"Madeline," Esther began, her voice soft and filled with sadness. "The time has come for me to leave."

Madeline attempted to smile as tears rolled down her cheeks. She stood and moved closer to Esther. "I knew this day would come, but didn't want it to be so soon."

Esther reached out to touch Madeline's hand. "I wouldn't have found peace without you. You have been my anchor, my friend. I can't thank you enough."

Madeline's voice trembled. "What will I do without you? You've been like a sister to me."

"You will continue to be strong, kind, and brave. Remember that even though I am leaving, a part of me will always be with you."

Madeline nodded, unable to speak. She took a deep breath and smiled through her tears. "I'll never forget you, Esther. You've shown me how to love again. Our friendship will transcend even death."

They embraced, and for a moment, it felt like any other goodbye between friends. When they pulled apart, Esther reached into her pocket and brought out a small locket. She pressed it into Madeline's hand. "Take this. It's a reminder of our bond."

Madeline stared at the locket, her heart swelling with emotion. "Thank you. This means more to me than you will ever know."

William and Will appeared on the porch, their presence a gentle reminder that it was time to go. Esther turned to them and then back to Madeline. "Goodbye, my dear friend. Until we meet again."

As the trio walked away, Noah appeared at Madeline's side, his presence speaking volumes to her. He whispered, "I'm here for you."
*********

CHAPTER 49
The sweet aroma of Lorrie's baking floated throughout the house as the friends gathered together in the grand hall. Lorrie, James, and Noah chose to stay behind to finish the treasure's journey, so they gathered with the mortals. Only soft candlelight illuminated the room and their faces.

Static electricity filled the air, and soft music, reminiscent of distant chimes, played somewhere in the background. The mortals watched in awe as a soft golden light filled the room, enveloping the spirits and intensifying their radiant aura.

Sandra nudged Michael. "Do you see that? It's like they are transforming into something more spiritual than before."

Michael couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. "They've earned a well-deserved peace."

The golden light swirled around the ghosts, gently lifting them above the ground. Their expressions were serene. As the ghosts ascended, the warm glow spread throughout the room, touching the mortals and filling them with a sense of calm and contentment.

The almost transparent ghosts turned to face their friends one last time. Esther smiled at William, her eyes filled with love, before looking at Sandra. She whispered, "Thank you."

Benny raised his glass, the ghostly bourbon shimmering in the light. "To redemption and to the best friends I've ever had."

As the ghosts ascended higher, they gradually faded from sight, becoming one with the light. The music reached a crescendo and faded, leaving the grand hall in a peaceful silence.

Lorrie's eyes filled with tears, and her voice was soft as she murmured, "They've gone to a better place."

Sandra took a deep breath and sighed. "And we helped them get there."

*****

Madeline stood alone in the rose garden, watching the brilliant light ascend into the clouds. She whispered, "Thank you, Esther, for everything." And in the soft rustling of the wind, she felt Esther's presence one last time, a gentle reminder that love never truly fades away.

*****

Several hours later, Sandra wandered through the wildflowers, thinking about what she'd discovered while living at the mansion and the possibilities of what might lie ahead. After talking with James, Lorrie, Noah, and Madeline, she'd decided to return to the city and start her own private investigating business. She would still make time to work side by side with her friends at the mansion to follow through on the distribution of the treasure. William had been extremely generous with all the mortals who had helped, and they would never have to worry about the future again.

She'd decided to give the mansion back to Madeline and Noah, providing that the door would always be open for her to visit. Madeline thought they might open a bed-and-breakfast and take advantage of the house's haunting history.

As she enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine, her stroll led her to the small cemetery on the hill, where she found Madeline putting flowers on the graves. Two additional headstones, engraved William and Esther, stood beside Billy, Ryan, Benny, and Tim's. The new ones stood as silent witnesses to the end of a long and tumultuous journey.

As the two women stood side by side, so different yet so tightly bonded, Madeline knelt and straightened the flowers on the graves. Standing, she said, "Please come back and visit." Her voice was sad yet full of hope.

Sandra wrapped her arm around Madeline's shoulders, squeezing gently. "I'm sure they will," she reassured Madeline, her eyes misting over.

Madeline chuckled, shaking her head. "I meant you!"

Sandra laughed. "You couldn't keep me away."

The two women stood there a moment longer, the sun casting a warm glow over the scene. The memories of their ghostly friends lingered in the air, promising to remain a part of their lives forever.



THE END...............................................



The following is my proposed blurb for the jacket cover or inside cover. Since I've never written anything like it or published it, I am asking for opinions. Also, if a title changed should be made... I've included some thoughts. Thank you for reading, enjoying and always supporting me with this novel. It's an endeavor that I almost quit initially, but in the end, I found it was my happiest writing ever. I couldn't have done it without you!





The Unwilling Heir

When fledgling crime investigator Sandra Monroe inherits a sprawling mansion from a mysterious benefactor, she is thrust into a world beyond her wildest imaginings. Little does she know, the grand estate is not just a home but a purgatory for hundreds of ghosts, each seeking redemption. Among them is Judge William Parker, who straddled the line between law and crime, only to meet a tragic end when he changed his ways.

Now a restless spirit, Judge Parker concealed a treasure trove of gold, cash, artifacts, and antiques within the mansion's walls. But a bullet to the head shattered his memory, leaving him unable to recall the treasure's location. As Sandra delves deeper into the mansion's secrets, she finds herself amid a supernatural battle between good and evil spirits.

The stakes rise when modern-day mobsters discover the hidden fortune and lay siege to the haunted mansion. As law enforcement, benevolent spirits, and Sandra rally to protect the treasure, a gripping confrontation unfolds.

At the story's onset, the murder of Noah Wakefield — the mansion's current owner and Sandra's mysterious benefactor — shocks everyone. Noah's wife, notorious for her infidelity, becomes a prime suspect. With fingers pointing in every direction, Sandra must unravel the web of deceit surrounding Noah's death while navigating the mansion's spectral inhabitants.

In a tale rich with horror, humor, love, and blossoming friendships between the living and the dead, Sandra must navigate the treacherous waters of the unknown. Will she unlock the mansion's secrets and help the spirits find redemption, or will the forces of darkness prevail?

"The Unwilling Heir" is a spellbinding journey into a world where the past and present collide and good ultimately triumphs over evil.



Genre: Paranormal Mystery and Crime

Other Possible Titles

Echoes of Redemption

The Ghostly Legacy

Spirits of Purgatory

OR SUGGESTIONS.........Feel free to make suggestions since you were all involved in making this story. Have a great day! Smiles, hugs, and love to all - Carol.

Author Notes Sandra Monroe - fledgling crime investigative reporter
Detective Ryan Hamilton - a ghost
Judge William Parker - the grandfather and ghost
Will Parker - the father and ghost
Judge William Parker (Billy) - the grandson and ghost
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman - a ghost
Lorrie - the housekeeper - a ghost
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house - a ghost
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Tim - Sandra's father and a ghost
Victoria - the ghostly FORMER mistress in the 1800s
Esther - a female ghost from the 1800s, hoping to reclaim what's rightfully hers
Sebastian - once a lover and friend of Victoria's but now a celestial being
Frankie Saladino - mobster boss
Louie Frisella - Frankie's #1 man
Marco - a wanna-be fighting his way up the ranks
Maurice - head of a rival crew
Vinny - a ghost of William's past
Sgt. Patrick O'Reilly - William's friend from the past and a ghost
Jack O'Reilly - police officer and grandson of Patrick (a mortal)
Michael Sullivan - a rookie with the police force (a mortal)
Les Miller - CEO of Crime Stoppers Gazette and Sandra's boss
Annie - Sandra's assistant
Tyler - the local sheriff
Tony and Terrence - two bumbling wanna-be gangsters

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