The Ghosts Of Cragera Bay

“Something else, isn’t it?” Meyers’s voice jerked her from her reverie. She’d almost forgotten he was there. Those lovely shaped lips curled into a sneer. He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back and forth on the edge of his trainers. “Who wouldn’t want to buy such a quaint property on the coast—especially when one takes into consideration the murders, suicides and accidental deaths?”

She couldn’t imagine spending one night here on her own, never mind weeks. She was letting her imagination run wild again. After all, the high GMFs she’d recorded could be the source of her unease. But so far from the bog itself?

“In the short time I was at The Devil’s Eye, I recorded unusually high levels of geomagnetic energy. Surges in GMFs can be a result of a number of natural occurrences like fault zones or deposits of magnetic minerals.”

“Is there a short version of this lecture? I really don’t have time to take a class.”

She shot him a less than amused glare. “Fine. GMFs are often linked to typical haunt activity like apparitions and poltergeist activity. However, strong GMFs can affect the physical body, as well, from a mild sense of unease to hallucinations, and there is nothing paranormal about the site at all.”

Though witnesses claiming to share similar experiences suggested otherwise.

“And that’s what you’re investigating?”

She shrugged. “More or less.”

No point in sharing her “evil deeds, evil energy” theory just yet.

“How soon would you get this investigation under way?”

A tiny flicker of hope flared inside her. “I could have a test group down here in two—”

“No groups. Just you and the guy I found you with.”

Was he out of his mind? “I need a test group to record their reactions. That’s the investigation.”

He shrugged, a smug smile pulling at his mouth. “Record your own reaction. You bringing a group in will take away from the anonymity you promised, such as it is. That’s my best offer. Take it, or I can get a restraining order.”

She needed the group, otherwise what was the point? Still, she wasn’t prepared to walk away just yet. Not when she’d finally got a foot in the door. Maybe if she produced results, he’d come around.

“Fine,” she ground out, then jabbed a finger at him. “But I want your participation. You can be my test subject by sharing your experiences on the property.”

His smirk dimmed. “I haven’t had any.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

She folded her arms over her chest and shot him her own smug smile. “Then what will it hurt for you to sit at the bog with us and tell us what you’re not experiencing?”

He didn’t have an answer.

* * *

By the time Carly returned to the inn, the sky had darkened and the air turned cold. Her breath formed thin puffs of vapor as she left her car next to Andy’s van and hurried to the gray pebbledash two-story overlooking the sea. In the dark, she couldn’t see the water, but the slap of waves against wet sand filled her ears.

Inside, soft light fell over white walls and rose-colored carpets. The dining room off the hall was dark, the few round tables in the room empty. She and Andy were the only guests, and had told Mrs. Leonard, the owner, they wouldn’t be eating here tonight.

There was no sign of the woman now, nor her son or daughter-in law who helped her to manage the place. Maybe they had already retired to their apartment at the back of the building.

Carly mounted the stairs and made her way to Andy’s room instead of her own. A flutter of apprehension tickled low inside her. She wasn’t sure how Andy would react to the agreement she’d made with Meyers. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it herself.

He’d certainly kneecapped her investigation by refusing to allow for a test group, but his participation opened doors she hadn’t considered previously.

Carly had recorded several claims of a shadow man at Stonecliff, who showed an interest in Meyers’s sisters, Brynn and Eleri. It would be interesting to see if he too could draw out the phenomena, or if his presence increased activity compared to her and Andy on their own.

Outside Andy’s room, she knocked on his door.

“It’s open,” he called out.

Carly pushed open the door and stepped inside. His room was nearly identical to hers in size and function, but instead of blue frills and satin his were peach. Andy was stretched out on his bed, propped up on pillows and watching the telly perched on the long dresser opposite him.

“You’re back?” he said with a snort. “I’ve been waiting for a visit from the police, or a call to fetch you from the station.”

Carly pushed the door closed and shot him a wry smile. “Oh, ye of little faith. Mr. Meyers and I had a very reasonable conversation, and he’s agreed to let us investigate.”

He sat up. “Bullshit.”

“There are some caveats,” she dropped onto the corner of his bed.

Andy snorted. “Here it comes.”

“Anonymity is important, and he will not agree to a test group.”

“Then what good is access to The Devil’s Eye?”

“He’s agreed to act as a test subject for us.” She tensed, waiting for his response.

Andy rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t strike me as the most open-minded sort.”

“He’s skeptical,” Carly admitted, with a shrug. “But sometimes that’s better than someone who thinks every noise, every feeling is paranormal. And if he witnesses activity for himself, maybe he’ll change his mind.”

“If you think that’s all it will take.” Andy swung his feet to the floor and stood. “I might have something, then.”

“You found something?” A thin thrill shot through her.

He crossed the room to the equipment stacked against the wall near the door and grinned. “More than one something, actually, but this is the most impressive.” He brought out one of the recorders and set it on top of the dresser. “I already cued it up for you.”

He pressed play. A soft weeping filled the quiet room, low and possibly male, mingling with her voice and Andy’s in a discussion about readings, completely oblivious to the sobs.

“It sounds like someone crying. Could we have picked up—”

Andy held up his hand. “Just wait.”

Then a woman’s voice, a clear-as-crystal whisper through the speakers.

Goose bumps studded her skin.

Andy hit stop. “Do you think that will change his mind?”