Page 101 of The Haunting of Lockton
“We encountered the ghost of a man who was a patient there,” Julian answered. “His name is Roy Daniels.”
Callum’s attention moved to me. “You work as a tour guide, yes? Surely, you’re better equipped to answer these sorts of questions.”
My anxiety spiked as everyone focused on me, including the adorably insufferable charmer beside me who thought it necessary to place his hand on my thigh, making my already distracted mind even more so.
“I’m very familiar, yes.” I cleared my throat to help steady my voice. “But we can’t find much information on Roy other than a brief mention of when he arrived and when he died. People have witnessed his apparition on many occasions, staring out the second-story window. It’s one of the many mysteries surrounding Lockton.”
“Hmm.” Callum turned to fill the cups he’d set out for each of us. He then brought them over on a tray, along with sugar, cream, and a small jar of honey. It was so old-fashioned. Everything about him was, down to his proper manners and poised way he carried himself. Definitely not like the other guys his age. “So, you wish to know more about Roy Daniels? What makes you think I have that knowledge?”
Taylor grabbed a cup and dumped way too much cream in it before stirring and taking a drink. Callum side-eyed him with a hint of a smile. One that quickly vanished, as if he’d let it slip by accident.
“Well.” I shifted forward on the couch to grab a cup. The tea was a dark brew, so I added a splash of cream and stirred in some honey before taking a sip. “It’s not so much Roy we wanted to ask you about but more so the incident that followed his death.”
“Which incident?”
“The riot of 1911.”
A gleam of understanding lit Callum’s eyes.
“There are speculations that your family was involved in the aftermath.”
“Anything you can tell us would help a lot,” Julian added.
“To what purpose?” Callum asked, dropping his gaze to his cup. “How does this information help with the investigation? Specifically, what do you hope to gain from it? I don’t fancy the idea of my family name being blasted all over your social media pages in relation to your show.”
“This isn’t really for the show,” Julian said with a frown. “This is… well, for me, I guess. If I can do something to help the ghosts at Lockton, anything at all, I want to.”
“And you believe learning about the riot will help you do that?” Callum asked.
Julian shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt. Roy showed himself to us for a reason. If the riot issomehow related to his death, maybe learning the truth behind it will give us what we need to help him.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you. My apologies.” Callum’s guard was up. If his familyhadbeeninvolved in the cover-up of the riot, revealing anything to us could shine a light on that fact and possibly result in his family’s reputation being dragged through the mud.
“Callum, please,” Taylor said. “We just wanna know what happened back then.”
“You have a habit of involving yourself in things that don’t concern you, Taylor Michaels,” Callum told him, though despite the harsh implication of his words, his tone was warm. Fond, even. “First, cursed mansions with homicidal spirits, and now, an asylum with a dark and tragic history.”
“But look what happened with that cursed mansion,” Taylor responded, just as fondly. “Our involvement chased away those shadows and brought peace to the ghosts trapped there. And for one of them, they got a second chance because of you.”
A second chance? What did he mean?
Though subtle, Callum’s guard began to lower. He relaxed in the armchair opposite Taylor’s and sipped his tea. His browcrinkled as he thought things over. Then, he released a long breath. “Very well. I’ll tell you what I know, but I ask that you not include any of what I’m about to say in your show.”
“You have my word,” Julian said.
“Mine too.” Skyler tipped his head to him.
“The riot of 1911 threatened to leave a stain on my family name,” Callum said. “However, my great-grandfather’s involvement was paramount. It was either help cover up the truth or allow that truth to be set free, causing a chain reaction of events to follow, such as widespread panic and witch hunts, quite literally, as history has shown. Mundane humans fear what they don’t understand.”
Julian grabbed a cup from the tray on the coffee table and added cream and sugar. “So magicwaslinked to the riot?”
“Yes,” Callum answered. “A patient was sent to Lockton after exhibiting signs of powers, telekinesis being his main gift, the ability to move things with one’s mind. His family was unaware of the magical world and were highly religious, therefore, they believed him to be demon possessed. After every priest they contacted failed tocurehim, he was diagnosed as a madman and signed over to the asylum.”
“What was the patient’s name?” I asked.
“Owen, if I recall correctly. Owen Reilley.”
I mulled over the name. When we had gone to the library a few days ago to research Roy, I vaguely remembered coming across the last name Reilley. “He was sent to solitary confinement prior to the riot. There was an entry from one of the nurses that mentioned him attacking one of the orderlies.”
