“Melody House has stood for nearly three hundred years, and in that time, we can only imagine all the dramas that have been lived—and the passions and dreams that have perished here as well. They say that we are energy, and energy cannot be destroyed. Just as they say that Melody House is haunted. If ghosts and spirits are those who remained, their energy still fiercely alive due to trauma or tragedy, then there would be nothing more natural than the fact that Melody House indeed be haunted! Throughout the years, many have seen, or have believed they have seen, the ghosts of those tragic souls. In the early eighteen-hundreds, the courageous Andrew Jackson, later to be president of the United States, once spent only half a night here, and mentioned to someone later that he’d rather face the British army again than spend another night at Melody House. Some swear there is a woman in white, still walking the halls. Others have seen soldiers, still, perhaps, fighting their long-lost battles.” Elizabeth paused, something of a rueful smile on her face. “So. We shall all join hands, in the circle here created, and see what haunts or specters might wish to appear, to convey last words, wishes, or needs.”

Electricity had long ago come to Melody House, but tonight, other than the lights attached to the cameras, there was no illumination within the dining room except for a single candle burning in the center of the table.

Darcy had already felt the cold. Whether Elizabeth was able to communicate with any of the “energy” remaining in the house or not, Darcy again felt the sense of being watched. Whatever entity or entities remained at Melody House, they were watching. Across the table, she saw Penny shiver.

Darcy felt herself nudged. Hands, yes, hold hands. She set hers upon the table. She was next to Jason Johnson, a local writer and historian, and, naturally, another friend of Matt’s, and Clint Stone. Carter was on Clint’s other side. Clint covered her hand warmly with his own, and seemed both amused and curious, as if he might have an open mind to the happenings. Matt was across the table, seated next to Elizabeth. He wore a look of carefully restrained impatience on his hard-sculpted features. Mae, the woman who had been welcoming to her when she had first walked into the Wayside Inn, was there, at tractively dressed and groomed, her round face split into a smile of excitement as she sat on Matt’s other side. To round out the group, a pretty young woman with the improbable name of Delilah Dey, newly elected to the town council, sat between Jason Johnson and Mae.

David Jenner, of Jenner Electronics, also at the Wayside Inn when Darcy had first arrived, stood a distance from the group, with video and audio running. Darcy had considered bringing down some of her own equipment, but then had decided that this was not the night for Harrison Investigations’ high-tech “ghost buster” electronics.

“We have joined in a benign and caring circle,” Liz said, addressing the spirits. “We wish to help with any problems, past or present. We have come in love and friendship, and wish to communicate with any presence in his house who desires a voice. Our minds and hearts are open. If there is a presence here, please let yourself be known.”

Darcy felt a breeze at her nape, and she closed her eyes.

The fear had never really left her. Josh, who had been born with his unique perception, had not been afraid. But to Darcy, knowing that a very strange door was open was still a frightening experience. She knew that she had to allow the sensations in, but each time, it still seemed that cold fingers clutched her heart, and it was a fight to do what she knew she did well.

They were not alone.

Talk to me, she thought in silence.

But then her eyes popped open as she heard a rapping at the table. She frowned, then felt a very physical force as the hands grasping around the table all seemed to tighten as one. Elizabeth spoke excitedly.

“We have made a communication! Rap again, please, if you are with us.”

A tap sounded.

Darcy looked around the table, doubting that any of the ghosts were tapping. Matt, too, was looking around the table.

The presence that had been so near Darcy and so apparent to her backed away. It didn’t disappear; it simply receded.

“Are you the spirit we call the Lady in White?” Elizabeth asked.

There was no response.

“Perhaps a soldier?”

There was another rapping.

Matt was staring at Darcy, a certain hostility apparent in his eyes. Anger burst through her. He assumed that she was the one somehow managing to tap the table.

“Did you live during Revolutionary Times,” Elizabeth asked, earnest concern in her voice.

No response. Matt was still staring at Darcy.

“The Civil War?” Elizabeth asked softly.

Another rap.

“Yes! Yes!” Elizabeth said, her eyes closed, her concentration intense. “We believe we know your story. You fought hard, so hard, for what you believed to be a just cause. You died here in this house. But you needn’t stay and fight on. The war is over. Peace has come. And the outcome, in the end, was right. The only outcome that could be right, and the world has moved on. We seek now to offer true justice and equality for all men. You may rest in peace. Do you understand me? Can my words help you find rest?”

Another rap, then a number of excited raps.

Penny whispered softly to Elizabeth. “We don’t want our ghosts to go away! We just want them to be happy.”

“They’re only happy when they’re at peace!” Carter said, staring at Penny with a strange smile.

“This is so exciting!” Mae whispered.

“Hush!” Elizabeth said, moaning softly. “We’ll break the very tenuous thread that is linking us to the entity.”

There was a sound at the table, one of total impatience.

Matt.

“Please!” Elizabeth said. “Captain…you are a captain, right?” she said, addressing the ghost.

There was nothing.

“Let us know. We’re here for you,” Elizabeth said.

There was another rap.

“Yes, you’re a captain. A true gentleman, still fighting for his cause!”

There was suddenly the sound of a shriek. The table jumped.

The sound had come from Delilah. “Someone…something touched my thigh!”

“The captain isn’t such a gentleman,” Clint suggested wryly.

The table jerked again.

Matt swore, and rose, breaking the circle. “David, can you just go ahead and hit the lights?” he asked.

The room was flooded with illumination. “Okay, who was touching Delilah’s legs?”

“Matt, we had contact, real contact,” Elizabeth said, dismayed.

“Oh, please!” Matt said.

“By one horny ghost,” Carter suggested, amused.

Matt glared at him. “Not me!” Carter protested.

All eyes naturally turned to Clint.

“Not on your life!” he protested.

“I’m telling you, we contacted a Civil War soldier,” Elizabeth said stubbornly.

“Absolutely,” Penny agreed. “And one of you destroyed our communication. Matt, you just can’t have those two around the next time we have a seance. Delilah, we really have ghosts here.”

Delilah shivered. “You do really believe that—that a captain from the Civil War was in this room with us?”

“I must say,” Jason remarked, “Everyone’s hands were on the table.” From the way he spoke, it was difficult to tell if he was impressed with the tapping, or merely curious as to how it might have been managed.

“We’re ignoring our expert,” David said, his video still running as he turned the camera on Darcy. “What do you think?”

She answered slowly with a careful shrug. “I’m afraid we weren’t into it long enough for me to really give an opinion.”

Jason smiled at her. “But what do you think? Or feel, or intuit, whatever. Is Melody House haunted?”

“The house has a tremendous history,” Darcy said. “Just being in it makes you feel an affinity for the past. Maybe that, in itself, makes a place haunted.”

Clint laughed. “Boy, you can talk your way around anything, can’t you, Darcy? What if this were one of those game shows and you had to give a yes or no answer?”

“But it’s not a game show,” Darcy said.

“I was excited!” Elizabeth said. “I know that I made contact. And we’ll set up to do this again. We’ve only just begun. I don’t think tonight would be good. I mean, I don’t think we should try again so soon. Matt—”

“Forgive me, Elizabeth, but I don’t want to set up any more dates right now. Bear with me. I’m sorry. My opinion is that someone here managed to tap on the table—and snag Delilah’s leg in the process, whether on purpose or not.”

“Matt, you are such a cynic!” Penny protested.

“Oh, my,” Delilah said, and she had a half smile on her face as she surveyed the men in the room.

“He’s accusing either you or me,” Carter told Clint, but with no malice.

“Yes, actually, I am,” Matt said sternly, but he didn’t sound overly angry, just impatient. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with a seance from the beginning.

“I think I’m going to step outside for a minute, if you’ll excuse me?” Darcy said.

“I’ll get drinks and some snacks out,” Penny told them.

“Drinks!” Carter said with pleasure.

“I’ll give you a hand, Penny,” Mae said. “I’m still all a-tingle! I’m certain as well that Elizabeth made contact. Couldn’t you feel it? The room was so cold. Oh, yes, there was someone with us. Something. Definitely. And Matt, you must do this again, please? Oh, you must, you must, you must!”

Darcy heard the last as she slipped through the foyer and out the front door. She felt a little guilty for not offering to help Penny herself, but there were others there, and she’d had the strangling sensation that she’d needed to get out.

Night could be so strange. The summer sky like velvet, and so near the mountains, a million stars showing cleanly against the darkness. She leaned against the porch rail for a minute, inhaled deeply, and smelled the fragrant, flower-filled air that marked the season.