Chapter 3

"Are you trying to tell me my house is evil?" Ava asked Lee, incredulous anger in her tone.

Jackson grinned, loving the sudden spark of fire in Ava Trumble that would come and go from nowhere.

The crew was gathered in the living room, a large, modern space with white leather furniture and a cabinet hiding a pretty impressive-sized flat screen. In the corner, a floor-to-ceiling brick fireplace remained unused, the thick white mantle decorated with colored glass bottles in varying sizes. The room was both masculine and feminine. And comfortable.

He rubbed his chest, still trying to brush away the after-effects of emotion. Emotions he'd never encountered before, couldn't name, and didn't entirely know what to do with. Attraction for Ava melded with a familiar sensation of belonging stronger than he'd experienced when they'd pulled in. The scent of saltwater and brine outside and the aroma of warm cookies and cinnamon inside encompassed him. Filled his chest and sealed cracks. Spoke to him, welcomed him, like a lilt on a breeze.

At first, he thought it was the mansion. Now, he wondered if it was her.

"No, your house isn't evil," Lee answered with patience, drawing Jackson back to the conversation. "Evil is entirely different. I'm not talking demons or shadow people here. I'm not picking up on poltergeists either. What you have is a lot of residual haunting. However, there are two to three spirits who are interactive or intelligent hauntings."

"I have no idea what you just said." By the look on her face and the twist of her pretty lips, she hated that more than anything.

Her irritation hadn't subsided, not completely. She was extremely attractive like this, trying to bottle all that energy and passion for the sake of politeness.

Jackson intercepted on Lee's behalf. "There are several different kinds of hauntings. Demons and shadow people are believed to never have had a mortal form. They are considered evil and are associated with a feeling of dread. They usually have to be exorcised."

He waited to see if she followed along, pleased the frustration drained from her expression. "Residual hauntings are sort of like a movie playing over and over. When someone dies in a sudden way, it can imprint the atmosphere or location. Those entities are completely unaware of their surroundings and don't interact."

She appeared to chew that over. "Okay, what else?"

"Poltergeists usually emerge from a human being. Inner energy that's projected subconsciously through the mind. Lights flickering, objects moving, that sort of thing. Then you have intelligent or interactive hauntings. These are typically referred to as ghosts. They can communicate, touch us, and manipulate objects. These are souls that have not moved on to the afterlife."

Lee leaned forward from his seat on the couch and rested his forearms on his thighs. "Out front, I just heard whispers. A lot of them, but they felt residual. In this room, I hear music, glasses clinking, and laughing. Also residual."

Her face shifted to surprise in an instant, her eyebrows pinging. "This room used to be a ballroom. There were a lot of galas and parties in here back in the day."

Lee nodded knowingly. "I picked up on a woman or girl in your parlor. She's an intelligent haunting, and I think the same presence I felt by the cliffs. I smelled lavender when she was near."

Her eyes widened even more. Such beautiful eyes. Expressive as all get-out. "Aunt Lois used to smell lavender all the time. It used to drive her nuts trying to find the source."

Lee smiled, but it fell flat. "Whoever this woman is, she doesn't like men. I think you may find her the cause for the disturbances when males are around. She gives off this very strange vibe. I feel like I'm floating when she's near. And cold."

"Yippee for us," Terrance said with a grin.

Everyone laughed at the techie's quip.

Lee continued as if Terrance hadn't spoken. "Upstairs, in that blue room, there's something important in the desk, or about the desk."

"That desk is as old as the house. If something was in there, it would've been found by now."

Lee shook his head. "I don't think so. It's important. Moving on to the other rooms, there was a lot of residual energy and also conversations. The big empty room upstairs is a concern. I sensed a man there. Very angry, very powerful. I get the feeling he has the capability to do harm. He wanted me out. I felt threatened, and that doesn't happen often."

Jackson could attest to that.

Ava sighed and leaned back in her chair. "So, what do we do?"

"Cut," Elise called.

Tom and Earl turned off their cameras and set them on the floor while everyone stood to stretch.

"From here," Elise said to Ava, "we'll go through the history of the house and you'll relay to us what you can. We need to shoot you welcoming the crew in the front door, too."

Ava nodded. She darted a glance in Jackson's direction, which he responded to with a reassuring smile. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Now, wasn't that interesting? A female irritated or immune to his charm. He was used to women pursuing him. Ava Trumble seemed more annoyed with him than attracted.

Elise handed him the list of questions to ask Ava on camera, and they resumed their seats. Elise returned to the corner out of view while Tom and Earl readied the cameras.

Jackson cleared his throat. "So, Ava, tell us why you called us here to the Trumble Mansion."

"Well, I suppose because of all the activity the house has had. It spans over several generations."

He listened, his eyes trained on her, as she went through the stories her family and visitors encountered through the years. All the unusual deaths. A man in the 1800s falling down the grand staircase. Another hanging himself in one of the bedrooms. One in the 1930s jumping from the cliffs. Another in the 1960s shooting himself in the head. Ten deaths total from different, sudden illnesses. Twenty-five divorces. And three men institutionalized.

Bloody hell, indeed.

Ava was a natural. She didn't come off as crazy or boisterous, which meant, when this episode aired, the audience wasn't only going to believe her, but love her.

"I have an admission." Her gray eyes took on a trace of sorrow before she seemed to shake it off. "That's not the only reason I brought Phantoms here. For the first time in two-hundred-and-forty years, the Trumble mansion runs the risk of falling out of family hands. When my great-aunt died, she willed it to the historical society if I didn't complete a task within a year."

His gaze whipped to Elise. She shrugged and waved her hand for Jackson to keep going. The team looked intrigued but just as clueless.

He returned his attention to Ava. "What task would that be?"

"I have to find evidence of what happened to Sarah Kerrick within the year."

He stilled, familiar with this story. But no one else knew his frail connection, including the beautiful Ava Trumble, so he skimmed the questions on Elise's list to prod things along and give himself a second to compose himself.

"Tell us the history of the house, if you can. I'm afraid we don't know who Sarah is."

Ava leaned forward and crossed her legs. It took a significant measure of control not to follow that movement with his eyes. She had long legs which, if allowed, could run amuck with his fantasies.

"In 1775, during the American Revolution, two British families came to the States to join several thousand already here. The Kerricks and the Trumbles were both of wealth, and very close families. John and Margaret Kerrick had one daughter, Sarah. William and Emma Trumble had one son, Peter. They settled in Maine, which at the time was still part of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

"That's right." Paul seemed impressed. As a historian, Paul was often disappointed in how little people knew of their history. "Maine didn't secede from Massachusetts until 1820." He removed his glasses, wiped the lenses on his shirt, and replaced them.

Ava seemed equally impressed by Paul. "Correct. The Kerricks and Trumbles built their houses right next to each other on this spot in 1776. Peter and Sarah, both about seventeen, fell in love and made plans to wed. A year later, William Trumble discovered John Kerrick remained true to the British Navy and not the Patriots, thus dividing the families apart."

"Wow," Sammy said. "Talk about a stab in the back."

Ava smiled. "Well, needless to say, the Kerricks made plans to return to England once they were outed. On the night before their departure, Sarah Kerrick disappeared, never to be seen again. The Kerricks searched for her but, after a week, returned to England without her. Most people, to this day, believe Peter Trumble killed her for treason. Peter reportedly denied this, claiming he loved Sarah. The following winter, Peter's parents died of pneumonia. Peter had the Kerrick house torn down and a cemetery put in its place. There is a headstone for Sarah Kerrick, but no body rests there."

There was a long pause as the team stared at each other.

Jeez. Ava was somehow supposed to find out what happened to Sarah Kerrick, or lose her house, her family's legacy, forever?

This was very close to the story Jackson had heard growing up. The Kerricks believed Sarah had either jumped to her death from the cliffs because she didn't want to leave Peter or that Peter had killed her for the same reasons Ava mentioned.

Jackson shook his head. Phantoms had investigated great cases through the years, from the Myrtle Plantation in Louisiana to the Winchester Mansion in California. They'd even done a season-opener episode in London at Jack the Ripper's murder scenes.

This case was extraordinary.

"Well, this should be easy to solve," Amir said with eminent sarcasm. The techie always joked when unnerved, and he looked very much unnerved.

"Hey," Sammy argued. "Sarcasm is my superpower."

Ava aimed her grin at Sammy. "We should get along just fine. Snark is my superpower."

Groan. Jackson fell in lust with her on the spot. There was something so very attractive about a woman who spoke her mind, stood up for what she believed in, and did it with...gumption.

"So, what happened next?" Kerry, their other investigator, was clearly still immersed in the story.

Ava shrugged. "Peter married a woman named Kathryn a few years later and had twin sons, but he never loved her, according to claims. Kathryn died in childbirth. Peter isolated himself and some say he went crazy. This was the only residence in town to survive the Revolution in one piece."

She leaned back. "You'll see in our family history the men didn't fare well in this house. Between suicides or accidents or illness, most died at an early age. Strangest part about all this is every generation had at least one son born. My mother calls it a curse."

Before now, Jackson had been chewing over the idea of whether to tell the team of his family's connection. It was a stretch and, to be honest, by the time you followed the family tree branches to him, there was hardly a drop of blood to tie to Kerrick. Still, this was fascinating. Maybe having a Kerrick and a Trumble in the same house again would get the desired results.

"Well"-he sighed-"I have a confession." All eyes turned on him. "As it turns out, I'm a distant-very distant-relative of the Kerricks."

Paul's eyebrows shot up. Sammy gasped. Lee rubbed his bald head. Elise's mouth hung agape. Amir shook his head. Terrance and Kerry just stared.

And the lovely Ava Trumble slowly stood, eyes narrowed, fists clenched.

But before a word could be uttered, five thunderous slams resounded from the second floor.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. All in succession.

So loud, with such violent force, the floor shook, the walls vibrated, and Jackson's ribs rattled. The hairs on his arms rose as his limbs locked. His lungs emptied.

Five bedroom doors crashing hard against their frames.

With no one up there to close them.