Carol Clark - Laced

Life never seems to go the way you plan it, Regan thought. And I think I just saw a ghost. Married two days. Jack’s going to think I’m nuts. But I definitely saw someone, and then she disappeared-which, thankfully, is just what the smoke seems to be doing.

“Just a little grease fire in the kitchen. Thank God no injuries,” a sixtyish man wearing a red uniform jacket with gold braiding announced to the crowd. “As you can see, there isn’t too much smoke. Although where there’s smoke there’s fire, I do admit. It’s nearly under control. The breakfast cook pulled the fire alarm in a panic. It wasn’t really necessary.”

A feeling of relief rippled through the crowd.

“My name is Neil Buckley, and I’m the manager of Hennessy Castle. If you don’t mind, would you please step outside for a few minutes.”

“It’s raining!” shouted a woman wearing stiletto shoes and a fluffy feathered pink bathrobe. “If it’s under control, we should stay inside!”

“It’s a necessary precaution until the firemen give us the okay. Please. Oh-here they are!”

Firemen came rushing through the front door of the castle, lugging their equipment.

“Around the corner to the kitchen!” Buckley cried. “Martin, show them the way if you would!” he ordered a young man who was wearing a red vest with the Hennessy crest.

“Right away, sir!”

The firemen hurried off.

“Now, as I was saying,” Buckley continued, “please step outside. The rain is letting up. We have brollies for you by the door.”

The pink bathrobed woman pointed her well-manicured hand that was laden with multitiered diamond rings. “We’d better not be charged for tonight!”

Regan shook her head. Just hours ago this castle seemed like a romantic and cozy respite from the crazy fast-paced world. Now an acrid smell hung in the air and one of the seemingly genteel guests was picking a fight about her room charges. Jack put his arm under Regan’s elbow, and along with the others, they walked outside onto the dark driveway where it was rainy and chilly.

“Mrs. Reilly, allow me,” Jack said with a smile and a raised eyebrow as he started to open their umbrella. But before it was up, a woman who’d been behind them coming out the door became distracted by an impending sneeze. She bumped into Regan as she bellowed achoo! Regan was pushed against Jack, which she didn’t mind, but she was glad she hadn’t ended up on the ground. “Achoo!”

Regan and Jack both took a step backward.

“Sorry!” the petite woman said. “Sorry. I’m so allergic to smoke, you can’t believe it.” She reached in her purse and pulled out a lace handkerchief. “This whole thing is outrageous,” she said.

Regan and Jack exchanged a quick smile. “Don’t worry about it,” Regan said.

The woman, who was probably in her early thirties, was a cute little blond. She couldn’t have been more than five foot two. Clutching her white lace handkerchief tightly, she looked as though she were getting ready for the next big achoo which was probably on its way. Regan was reminded of the woman she had just seen on the back lawn. She had been clutching something white in her hands, and it seemed natural. But to witness this small woman sneezing like a horse and then dabbing her nose with a dainty white handkerchief struck Regan as incongruous.

The woman blew her nose once, twice, three times, and then rolled her eyes. “I said to my husband, this is just our luck. We’re here for, what, two days, and a fire breaks out. Brian, hold that umbrella over my head, please. My hair is getting wet.”

Brian reminded Regan of a big teddy bear. He was about six foot three, with brown hair and a handsome face. He shrugged and obeyed.

“We’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” Regan said. “No one was injured, and we should be able to get back inside pretty soon.”

“Aren’t you the optimist?” the woman, who sounded American, grunted. Looking at Regan as she continuously dabbed her nostrils, she asked, “What brings you here?”

“Our honeymoon,” Regan answered.

“Nice,” the woman answered. “We went to the Bahamas on our honeymoon three years ago. It rained all week. I mean every day. At least when you come to Ireland, you’re not counting on sunshine. You’re obviously American. Do you have an Irish background?”

Regan smiled. “Yes.”

The woman’s face lit up. “We started a business online selling memorabilia emblazoned with Irish family crests. You might want to take a look at our catalogue.”

Brian pulled on his wife’s arm. “Sheila, not now.”

“We’re standing in the rain, Brian. What else do we have to talk about? I’m certainly not keeping them from anything.” She looked from Regan to Jack. “What’s your last name?”

“Reilly. And mine was Reilly before I married him,” Regan answered.

“Let’s hope it means you’re compatible.”

“We are,” Jack assured her.

“You know there’s a ghost named Reilly who supposedly haunts this castle. A lace tablecloth she made almost two hundred years ago is upstairs in the memorabilia room. There’s a little plaque about May Reilly up there. Have you seen it?”

“No. We were so tired after dinner last night, we figured we’d look in the morning.”

“Who knows?-You might be related to her.”

“Maybe,” Regan answered.

“I’ll leave you our catalogue at the front desk tomorrow. Our business is going really well. Really, really well. Let me tell you, if there’s anything that people like better than the sound of their own name, it’s the sight of their name on anything from plaques to dishes, to certificates explaining the family crest. And you’re both Reilly. Two for the price of one! We’ll even throw in a mug for free!” She laughed. “By the way, I’m Sheila O’Shea, and this is my hubby, Brian.”

Introductions were made, and the men shook hands the way men do when they’re not really interested in the conversation.

“Where do you live now?” Sheila asked.

“ New York. And you?”

“ Phoenix. I love the sunshine.” She paused. “You know about our business. What do you do?” She smiled in her most friendly way, then raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Anything we can buy from you?”

“Not unless you need the services of a private investigator, which is what I am. Jack is the head of the Major Case Squad in New York City.”

Sheila’s smile remained plastered on her face. “Nice,” she said. “Your jobs must be so interesting.”

The door of the castle opened, and Neil Buckley appeared. “You can all come back inside,” he announced. “Anyone whose room smells of smoke, check with Martin at the desk. We have a few vacant rooms that are far from the kitchen. And we’re serving tea, coffee, and pastries in the lounge for anyone who would like an early bird breakfast.”

“No, thanks,” Jack whispered in Regan’s ear.

The crowd surged toward the door. Most guests seemed anxious to get back to their warm beds.

“See you later,” Sheila said abruptly as she and Brian hurried off.

Regan and Jack headed straight for their room. Jack unlocked the door and went into the bathroom while Regan walked directly to the window facing the lake. She paused for several minutes, staring out into the darkness.

Once they were back in bed, Jack turned to Regan. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind? When I came out of the bathroom, you didn’t even notice. You were just staring out the window.”

Regan hesitated. “Jack, I know it sounds crazy.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Before we ran downstairs, you said it looked as if I saw a ghost. I think I did. A woman with a long dark coat and a scarf over her head was looking up at me and shaking her fist. She looked as if she belonged in another century.”