Dawn Brown - The Ghosts Of Cragera Bay

She’d asked Reece to come with her. Having worked with him back when she was an undergrad and he was a teenager assisting his uncle—also a natural medium—she knew he was good, better than any medium she’d worked with since.

Reece had turned down her invitation to return to Stonecliff. Not only had he given up using his gift to go build boats in Holyhead on the opposite side of the Isle. Of Anglesey, but he was also engaged to Brynn, who never wanted to set foot on the estate again.

How could someone have a gift like his and not use it, not explore it or take the time to understand it? Such a waste.

“Carly?” Andy’s sharp tone jerked her from her reverie. She turned to see him standing behind her, a frown etched into his boyish features. “I asked you if you believed the source of the energy was coming from the bog? Maybe there’s a fault zone running beneath it.”

She jerked a shoulder. “It’s possible, but I’m more interested in what that energy is producing.”

“The shadow people?”

“Voices, footsteps, strange noises. Both sisters had physical experiences. One was pushed down the stairs, the other trapped in a stairwell by a door with no lock. So the question is—does all that activity stem from this place, The Devil’s Eye? Is the energy given off by the bog producing paranormal phenomena, or is it a source of hallucinations?”

She turned back to the dark water. The afternoon sun reflected off the black surface like a white pupil in a black iris. A shiver slithered up her spine.

“I thought you believed the energy was evil.”

“Energy is energy,” she murmured, then turned to face him. Andy looked up from his hunched position next to one of the geomagnetic meters. “But what if evil acts could manipulate that energy and draw more evil to it? Some believe shadow people are manifestations of evil.”

Andy snorted and shook his head. “You’re not trying to claim the energy here influenced those people who killed all those men, that The Devil’s Eye made them do it.”

“No, but what if it drew them here?”

“All three were local—the pub owner and his wife and the village doctor. They’d lived here all their lives and their families before them.”

Carly sighed and left the water’s edge, walking toward Andy. “But why here? They could have murdered people anywhere in Cragera Bay, or anywhere on the island for that matter. Why The Devil’s Eye? And don’t forget that nurse who murdered two people this past spring, completely unrelated to the bodies in the bog.”

“If your theory’s correct, and The Devil’s Eye is attracting murderers, then I suppose we’re lucky to still be alive. We could have been killed in the short distance between here and the car.”

Andy laughed at his own joke, and Carly rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I brought you in on this.”

“Because no one else would have been crazy enough to come. Still,” Andy said, with a shrug. “I think you might be onto something here.”

Andy, after all, wanted the same thing as her: for his work with the paranormal to be taken seriously. While Carly had her own issues in academia, her work considered little more than a pseudoscience, Andy was still a builder by day, paranormal investigator by night. His own work viewed as an amusing hobby by some, a crackpot waste of time with no scientific merit by others.

Carly pushed the envelope, walked a very thin line between right and wrong to get what she wanted—and in the case of The Devil’s Eye she was well over that line—but Andy was willing to do all that with her because if her work could be taken seriously, then so would his.

She grinned and folded her arms over her chest. “Was there any doubt?”

He snorted. “Should we start tidying this lot up? Before his lordship realizes we’re here.”

“I suppose,” she murmured, nipping at her bottom lip again. She just hoped they’d gathered enough to convince Meyers to give them access to the property.

“If we did manage to catch something while we were here,” Andy said, setting the voice recorder back in its case, “do you think Meyers will change his mind?”

He must have been reading her mind. Carly opened her mouth to answer, but a man’s voice cut her off.

“No, he won’t change his mind.”

Carly whirled around. Declan Meyers stood in the opening between the bog and the path that led deeper into the woods toward Stonecliff. His gaze burned like black coal, sharp-angled features twisted into a furious scowl.

“He might, however, have you arrested for trespassing.”

Chapter Four

Crap! Carly’s pulse fluttered in her throat, her mind spinning in a thousand different directions trying to decide the best way to defuse the situation. She opted for pretending nothing was wrong.

She smiled as if she were delighted to see him. “Mr. Meyers, what a surprise. We’re just about finished here.”

He threw his hands up with furious incredulity. “Are you deranged or just stupid? I told you yesterday to stay the fuck away from Stonecliff.”

“You did,” she agreed, nodding slowly. Should she go ahead and show him the numbers they’d recorded, explain the implications? His black eyes blazed, nostrils flaring. Maybe this wasn’t the best time. “If we could just discuss this reasonably.”

He rolled his eyes and started up the path. “I’m calling the cops.”

Andy stiffened beside her, and Carly’s heart thudded in her chest. If they were arrested for trespassing, everything they were hoping to accomplish would be tainted. And she would never get the chance to thoroughly investigate the location.

She needed damage control.

“You won’t,” Carly called, scurrying after him. Her ankle was still stiff from her near fall yesterday, but she didn’t let it slow her down. “You can’t afford the attention.”

Declan stopped, forcing Carly to come to an abrupt halt. The rubber tread of her boots skidded on the carpet of dead leaves. He whipped around and faced her, a scowl etched into his hardened features, fury radiating from his tense frame. He opened his mouth as if to really let her have it, but instead snapped it shut and stormed off down the path again.

Crap, would he call her bluff and call the police, anyway? She glanced back at Andy. “Tidy this lot up and head back to the inn. I’ll deal with Meyers.”

Andy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Haven’t you had enough for one day?”

“I have to stop him from complaining to the police.”

Carly darted down the path, away from the bog, running as quickly as her slight limp would allow to catch up with Meyers. She spotted him as he passed through the stone posts. A rusted iron gate—which must have fallen from the pillars at some point—leaned against one of them.

He didn’t slow his long, purposeful strides. She picked up her pace. “Mr. Meyers!”

“What?” He swung around, forcing Carly into another skidding halt. His eyes glinted like black glass. His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides as if he were fighting to keep from throttling her.

Nerves skittered up her spine. How much influence did The Devil’s Eye have on its residents? She swallowed hard and gave herself a mental shake. She was letting the estate’s history fuel her imagination.

“If you would just hear me out,” she said, pleased her voice remained steady.

“What for? You’ve already made yourself perfectly clear. You plan to trespass and do whatever the hell you want because you think you have me over a barrel. Unfortunately for you, you miscalculated. I had the real estate agent with me when I spotted you, and I had to talk fast to get her out of here so I could deal with you.”