Page 61 of Air Of Mystery
“It’s mutual,” he said, kissing me back.
Our kiss soon turned into more. Together, without breaking our kiss, we moved down the short hall to his bedroom.
***
Our Thursday night investigation went well. We captured plenty of footsteps and a few doors opening and closing on their own, as well as footage of a ghost light in Charlie’s office—outside the hidden panel. George said that he felt there werepsychic impressions left behind at the mansion of a child who passed at a young age and his mother who grieved for him.
We also snagged an EVP recording of a child’s voice. It was difficult to tell if it was male or female, but the words were French, which privately made me think that we’d probably captured evidence of Jacques.
The next morning, I had a meeting with Philippe and Gabriella. Comfortable in jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved T-shirt, I was very revved up about what evidence we’d gathered. However, the combination of that excitement and no sleep from being up all night investigating had me hitting the caffeine hard. I chugged a can of cola from a vending machine while organizing my notes. Once that was done, I packed.
Gabriella and Philippe had invited me to the conference room on the ground floor of the family wing for the meeting, so I checked out of my room, slung my laptop and camera case over my shoulder, and rolled my suitcase to the eastern wing. I was ushered through to the private section of the building by one of the hotel staff. Once I was shown to the conference room, I quickly set up my laptop and cued it up so I could share some of the footage and play the EVP we had captured.
I placed a pen and notepad on the table to take notes and waited a few moments for the couple to arrive. My phone chimed, alerting me to a text that I saw was from Charlie telling me to have a good day, to stay out of trouble, and that he would call me later tonight.
He had meetings that morning, and of course there were weddings booked at the mansion all weekend, so he would be busy until Sunday. I texted back:Can’t promise to stay out of trouble. But I will be careful. Then I added a ghost emoji and a heart.
Don’t make me come after you,he replied.
Ooh,I texted back.That’s kinda hot!
I’m serious, Skye,he sent next.
With a grin I sent back:Baby, so am I...
“Good morning,” Gabriella said as she and her husband came into the conference room.
“Hey.” I tucked my phone away and smiled at the couple as they took their seats. “Thank you for having us to the mansion,” I began. “Last night was great!” I rotated my laptop, so the screen was toward the couple. “Let me show you what we found.”
As soon as I finished sharing the evidence, I watched the couple exchange significant looks with one another. I sat back and waited, but the couple remained silent, and Gabriella shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“Okay,” I said, trying not to be too disappointed by their silence, “what you have here is a classic residual style of haunt. In other words, the house has held onto old memories. And in addition, you also have an intelligent haunt.”
“Intelligent?” Philippe asked.
“Meaning that the ghost can interact with you. It is aware of its surroundings.” When neither of them spoke, I continued. “It’s my theory that the ghost Camilla followed all those years that led her to the lost dowry, isnotthe same spirit that we interacted with last night.”
Gabriella narrowed her eyes. “Camilla’s stepson Jaime called the boy Claude. We think that was Claude Junior. The first-born son of Claude and Amelia Marquette.”
“The elder Claude was the big brother to the notorious Pierre-Michel? The one that left the letter about why he hid the dowry.”
“Correct,” she said. “After Pierre-Michel died, the rumors about the bride’s disappearance were pretty nasty, so Claude and Amelia packed up their children and returned to France.”
I nodded politely. “Well, George has a theory that Jacques is the child of a servant who may have passed away here at the mansion or on the grounds. I don’t suppose you have any records of who may have worked here at the mansion back in the day?”
Philippe glanced uneasily at Gabriella, and then suddenly Iknew. “You already know who Jacques is—don’t you?”
Gabriella flinched.
I tossed up my hands in aggravation. “Why did you invite me up here to investigate then, if you aren’t willing to share what you already know about the haunting?”
“Since Danielle was an infant,” Philippe began, “we have heard the voice of a child. As our children grew older, they began to talk about a boy who played with them, and they called him Jacques.”
“Who was he?” I asked the couple and pulled the paper and pen to me so I could write the information down.
“It is complicated,” Philippe said.
“Tell me anyway.”
