Read Ghouls Gone Wild Page 8

  “A woman of significant influence named Rigella, who was both feared and revered, lived just a few streets away from here, in fact. She was purported to be a powerful witch with ties to the devil himself.” Bonnie paused here and made another sign of the cross before continuing. “And when all about there was such terrible suffering, and only her family was left untouched by the plague, the village became suspicious and it wasn’t long afore the terrified residents turned against Rigella and her family.

  “It is said that a mob of the village’s angriest residents came looking for her. Rigella and her family sought shelter in the close. They thought they’d be safe down there, as that’s the place where the village used to send all the sick people who showed any sign of having the plague. Rigella didn’t think the mob would chase her into the underground caverns, but she was wrong. The mob came after her and trapped the whole family there, murdering first the witch’s lover, who was beaten and run to death. He simply collapsed and died, probably from a heart attack. Next they stoned the oldest, before the mob caught Rigella’s middle sister and set her on fire, leaving only the witch and her youngest three sisters trapped in the close

  “It’s said that she and the two second-oldest begged the mob to spare the life of their littlest sister, who was all of fourteen, but the villagers were too crazed to listen to reason. In front of the witch and her sisters they ravaged the poor girl and left her for dead. Then, they took the remaining three and hanged them together.

  “But before the witch and her remaining sisters died, it is said that Rigella set a curse upon the mob. She swore that she would have her revenge and that every one hundred years she would return to claim a life for each of her clan members killed by the mob. She would seek the death of seven souls to atone for the horror that befell her family.”

  I felt a chill go down my spine. Like I said, I don’t normally believe in things like curses and spells, but something about what Bonnie was telling us was really hitting home. “You say that every hundred years she comes looking for revenge?”

  Bonnie nodded, her eyes large and fearful. “Aye,” she said. “It began within a month of her death. Seven members of the mob that attacked the witch were killed—and not by the plague but through other mysterious circumstances. And then, over the centuries in the years seventeen forty-five, eighteen forty-five, and nineteen forty-five here in this village seven lives have been claimed within a week’s time and all the deaths were mysterious in nature and were never resolved.”

  “But why are you so worried?” Heath wondered. And I remembered the remark Bonnie had made about no one in her clan being safe. “I mean, this village must have a few thousand in population at least, right?”

  “My great-great-great-great-grandfather was a member of that mob,” Bonnie said, her voice no louder than a whisper. “And since that terrible day, several members of the Lancaster family have fallen victim to the curse, including me own uncle who was found hanging right after returning home from the war.”

  My jaw fell open a little. “Your own family has been a target?”

  Bonnie nodded gravely. “Aye. And not just me uncle was taken. One of me second cousins and his oldest brother died in a lorry accident the same week as poor Uncle Curtis.” Bonnie shivered. “Me grandfather used to tell us stories, in fact, of that terrible week when I was just a wee girl. He told me with a tear in his eye how frightened of the witch’s curse he was, but the war was particularly hard on our clan, and we had no money to move away and nowhere really to go even if we did. So we’d stayed here and tried to get through it, and it still cost us three of our kith.”

  “Why so many victims from your family?” I asked as another chill went through me.

  Bonnie grimaced. “There were four main clans that chased the witch’s family into the close. The Lancasters, the McLarens, the Hills, and the Gillespies.”

  I did a double take. “The who?”

  “The Lancasters, McLarens, Hills, and Gillespies,” she repeated. “In fact, Thomas Gillespie and his daughter Donaline were burned alive in a fire that destroyed their home. After that terrible day, the remaining Gillespies packed up everything they owned and moved to America, but the Lancasters and the McLarens and the Hills still have living members of the original families here in the village.”

  “Hey, guys!” Gilley said, sidling up next to me, which caused me to jump almost a foot. “Cool place, right?”

  Heath and I stood mute for a full three seconds before I finally managed to reply, “Um, yeah. It’s terrific.”

  Gilley was too busy taking in all the sparkling crystals in the shop to really notice our alarm, but he seemed to realize that he’d walked in on a conversation, so he extended his hand out to Bonnie and said, “Gilley Gillespie, nice to meet you.”

  Bonnie shrieked and pulled her hand out of Gilley’s grasp like she’d been stung. She then made another sign of the cross and shuffled several feet back. Gilley stood there looking shocked. “What just happened?” he asked me.

  I took him by the hand and hurried away from Bonnie before she could say something about what we’d been discussing. Heath followed me and we made it outside, where Gilley pulled his hand out of mine and demanded some answers. “What’s going on?”

  I looked at Heath, he looked at me, and neither of us spoke for several seconds. “It’s probably just a coincidence,” I began.

  “And it may not even matter,” Heath added.

  “We’re positive you’re not going to be affected in any way,” I assured, and then, I didn’t know what else to say. Gil was going to freak, no matter how hard we tried to sugarcoat it.

  “Will you just tell me?” he growled impatiently.

  Again, Heath and I shared a look, and at that moment Kim came out carrying a little bag. “I have a gift for you!” she sang.

  All our eyes swiveled to her as she tipped the bag upside down and out fell the green peridot earrings she’d been eyeing right before Bonnie told us about the legend of the witch. “Oops, not those, hold on, it’s in this bag,” she said, and tipped out the contents of a second bag into her palm. In her hand I eyed the very charm that Samuel Whitefeather had placed around my neck in my out-of-body experience.

  “Whoa!” I exclaimed, momentarily forgetting about Gilley and reaching for the charm.

  “It’s awesome, right?” Kim asked.

  I held it up to the light. “Kim,” I began in a deadly serious tone.

  “Yeah?”

  “How did you find this?”

  “M. J.!” Gilley squealed. “Will you stop it? Tell me why that woman inside reacted like that!”

  “Hold on, Gil,” I said, putting him off for a minute. I had to know how Kim found the very charm from my dream.

  “Bonnie gave it to me to give to you. She said an American Indian dealer from Santa Fe, New Mexico, had come over here and sold her a bunch of charms and jewelry, and she remembered him telling her that this particular charm had the power to thwart evil spirits. She wants you to have it. She seems to think that if you’re investigating the witch’s ghost, you’ll need it.”

  “Free of charge?” I asked, astounded by Bonnie’s generosity.

  Kim nodded. “Yes. But between you and me I saw the price tag before she took it off. It was tagged at seventy-five pounds.”

  I opened my purse and pulled out all the cash I had on me. “Can you please take this inside and give it to Bonnie with my profound thanks?”

  Kim smiled. “Absolutely. That’ll give me an excuse to buy that turquoise bracelet I was eyeing. I was really looking for a reason to go back in there!” With that, she dashed off.

  After she’d gone, I turned to Gil, who had his arms crossed and was impatiently tapping his foot. “Out with it.”

  I secured the charm around my neck and took a deep breath. “It turns out that the witch that attacked us the other night may be looking to exact some revenge.”

  Gilley’s brow furrowed. “What kind of revenge?”

  “She and her family were killed about three hundred and fifty years ago when an angry mob blamed them for the plague.”
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br />   “Uh-huh,” Gil said with narrowed eyes, as if he was looking for some hidden meaning in what I was saying.

  “Supposedly the witch cursed the mob and their descendants. She said that she would return every hundred years to claim the lives of seven members of the mob’s families.”

  “Okay,” Gil said. “I’m following.”

  “And about sixty-five years ago she took the lives of seven village residents who were descendants of the group that killed her and her family.”

  Gilley gave me a level look. “What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded.

  “The family name of some of the victims was Gillespie.”

  Gilley turned starkly pale and he just stared at me as if I’d told him he had two weeks to live. “Say what, now?” he whispered.

  “The witch has been attacking members of the Lancasters, McLarens, Hills, and the Gillespies. The last few members of the original Gillespie family fled Scotland fearing the curse—and relocated to America.”

  Gilley audibly gulped. “Uh-oh,” he said.

  “Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” Heath repeated. “Seriously, dude. I mean, there must be tens of thousands of Gillespies all over the world. Just because you have the same last name doesn’t mean your family came from this part of Scotland.”

  Gilley whipped out his cell phone and began punching numbers on the screen. Holding it up to his ear, he waited a beat, then said, “Mom? Hi, it’s Gilley.” There was a pause, then, “Yes, I know it’s early, and I’m sorry, but I just have to ask you one question: What part of Scotland did Grandpa and Grandma Gillespie come from?”

  I stared at Gilley’s face, waiting to see the relief I was sure would come, but instead he went a shade paler and made this little squeaking sound before saying, “Some little village on the outskirts of Edinburgh named Queen’s something? Uh, okay, thanks, Ma, call you later.” He hung up and stared at me in horror. “Why is it always me?!”

  We headed right back to the inn after the crystal shop. On the drive back I held Gilley’s hand and tried to prevent him from hyperventilating. “I have to leave town!” he said. “She’s coming after me!”

  “She’s not coming after you,” I reassured him, really hoping that was true. “I mean, before we go fleeing the country, let’s try and figure out if this legend is true or if it’s one giant fable the locals cooked up to attract tourists.”

  “Bonnie didn’t seem to think it was a fable,” Heath said. “She looked genuinely scared.”

  I glared at him and whispered, “Ixnay on the Onniebay, please!”

  But Heath wasn’t backing off. “I think we need to take this seriously, M. J.,” he said. “I mean, we can’t just discount what we saw in the caverns last night. And what about the images Gilley captured on tape? It’s pretty clear that some spook is haunting those caverns and believes she’s a witch.”

  “But you heard what Bonnie said,” I told him. “The very first thing she said to us was that the witch’s appearance is a full thirty-five years early. Maybe she isn’t coming after anyone right now. Maybe she was just irritated that we were in her territory, and that sparked her into action.”

  “But what about that maintenance worker?” Gilley insisted. “I mean, that man looked scared to death. Literally!”

  I sighed heavily as we pulled into the inn’s parking lot. “Of course he was scared!” I yelled a bit louder than I’d intended, and I saw John’s eyes glance at me in the rearview mirror. “The man was having a major heart attack down in some dark cavern where no one could help him, Gil. He was probably terrified that his worst fear was coming true!”

  “Or his worst fear was coming right at him,” Gil mumbled.

  “Didn’t Bonnie say that the witch’s lover was run down by the mob? That he was chased until he collapsed and died?” Heath said.

  “Just like the maintenance worker!” Gil exclaimed, pointing at Heath like he was Sherlock Holmes.

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, there’s an easy way to put an end to the mystery,” I said. “All we need to do is find out the last name of the maintenance worker. If it’s something other than Lancaster, Hill, McLaren, or Gillespie, we know it was just a coincidence.”

  “It was McLaren,” John called from the front seat as he put the van into park. “While you guys were in the crystal shop, I went for coffee, and the locals are all talking about it. Jack McLaren was the name of the maintenance worker who collapsed and died down in the close.”

  Gilley made another squeaking sound and thrust his fist into his mouth. “Terrific,” I sighed. “Juuuust terrific.”

  Chapter 5

  “Why is he packing?” Gopher asked as we all huddled in Gilley’s room while my partner ran around like a frightened hen, frantically stuffing articles of clothing into his suitcase.

  “There’s been a development,” I said, then went on to explain everything we’d learned from Bonnie at the Crystal Emporium. Gilley hadn’t even heard the whole story and I noticed him pausing at times as I retold it for Gopher. Still, by the time I’d finished, Gil was zipping up his suitcase, ready to head for the airport.

  “I still don’t get why Gilley’s packing,” Gopher said, scratching his head.

  “Weren’t you listening?” Gilley screeched.

  Gopher winced. “Yes, Gil, I was listening. But that doesn’t mean your family is from the exact same part of Edinburgh, does it? I mean, it’s a big city. They could have come from any village on the edge of it.”

  But Gil was shaking his head. “It’s the same place,” he said. “I’ve already looked up my grandfather’s name on [http://Ancestry.com] Ancestry.com. Both he and my grandmother were born just a few streets away, within one block of each other!”

  Gopher sat down in a chair near the window. “Okay, okay, but, Gilley, you’re not from here! You’re from America. And maybe this witch will just assume once she hears you talk that you’re just another American tourist.”

  But Gilley was shaking his head. “Nope,” he said, heaving his suitcase off the bed. “I’m not taking any chances. I’ll rendezvous with you guys at the next location. Good luck.”

  As Gil tried to walk out the door, Gopher called him back. “You realize you’ll be in breach of contract, right?”

  Gilley halted in the doorway and turned to look back at Gopher. “Say what?”

  Gopher stuffed his hands into his pockets, clearly uncomfortable. “The network likes you, buddy. They think you’re one of the more-colorful members of the team. I sent them the footage from yesterday and they ate it up when you went running to M. J. and Heath’s rescue. I’d hate to think what they’d do if they found out you’d left the shoot.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Gopher. “You wouldn’t!”

  Gopher pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up in surrender. “Hey, don’t blame me,” he said. “It’s out of my control. Gilley signed a contract and if he walks, then he’s in breach, and the network won’t look favorably on that. I’m convinced they’ll sue.”

  “How vigorously?” I asked. I’d read that contract backward and forward. All the chips were in the network’s favor. Essentially, for the next eight to ten weeks they totally controlled almost every move we made.

  “The last reality-TV star to dis them will never be solvent. Never.”

  “But she’ll kill me!” Gilley wailed.

  Gopher gave Gil a look like he understood fully. But I wasn’t buying it. “Maybe not,” Heath said into the heavy silence that followed.

  All eyes swiveled to Heath, and he, in turn, leveled his gaze at me. “We’re ghostbusters, M. J. Shutting down these evil poltergeists is what we do. And I think that this job is exactly what we’re about. If this witch’s ghost has risen again, then it really should be up to us to send her to hell—permanently.”

  “You mean you want to take her on?” I asked incredulously. It’d been all I could do to muster the courage to simply investigate the caverns. I hadn’t planned on any actual ghostbusting, especially with someone so powerful as the ghost of the Witch of Queen’s Close.

  But Heath was nodding his head as if his mind was made up. “I think we have to bust her. If the legend is t
rue, then six more lives could be at stake. We can’t just sit back and gather footage of spooky stuff while people are dying.”

  I thought on that for a minute while Gilley continued to grip the door handle to his room like he was holding on for dear life. “What are you thinking?” I asked him.

  “I don’t want to be poor,” he said honestly. “But I don’t want to be dead either.”

  I smiled, and made up my mind then and there. “Okay, people, new plan: We’re going after Rigella’s ghost. But our first priority is to make sure that Gilley is safe at all times. I don’t want him anywhere near the caverns, and I want him protected by extra magnets and backup twenty-four/seven.”

  “He should wear a meter,” Heath said. “If it starts to spike and one of us isn’t around, he’ll have a heads-up that he needs to call one of us.”

  “Oh, he’ll wear a meter all right,” I said. “And he’ll have me playing watchdog at all times except when we’re down in the close.” Turning to Gopher, I said, “Can you please move Gil and me into one room with two beds?”

  “Absolutely,” Gopher promised. “Anything else you’ll need to make sure he’s safe?”

  I looked at Heath. He shrugged. “I can’t think of anything.”

  “As many magnets as we can find,” I said after thinking on it. “I want him so surrounded by disruptive electromagnetic frequency that no ghost within ten miles could possibly get to him.”

  “Where am I going to be when you guys are in the close?” Gil wanted to know.

  “In the van,” I said. “And I want the entire interior padded with magnets.”

  “On it,” Gopher said, making a note in his iPhone.

  “How soon before the camera and sound guys get here?” Heath asked.

  Gopher glanced up and said, “Their plane gets in tonight around ten. We could start filming by midnight if you want.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t want to go back down to the close, but I also knew that putting it off was going to make my anxiety worse. “Great. Most of our cameras and meters are still in place, right, Gil?”