Previously:

Bellingham Manor was the scene of a triple homicide in 1917. Charles Bellingham, the wealthy son of a British shipbuilder, murdered his wife, her chambermaid and her lover in a fit of jealous rage. Investigators were never able to arrest Charles, who seemed to have vanished into thin air. After six months, the case was relegated to the files of unsolved murders.

*******

Bellingham Manor, 2 A.M., October 21, 1917

Charles slammed his fists into the bedroom wall. In the adjoining suite, an infant screamed in terror. The screams increased with every blow he struck. When I get out of here, I'll squeeze the life out of that infernal brat.

The numerous cuts about his hands and wrists spit blood with each blow. Red blotted out the pattern of the wallpaper. The hellcat showed more spunk than I'd have guessed. Thought she could block my knife with her flesh, but what's left lying out there in her love nest proves my supremacy.

Sliding his tongue in and out of the wounds, the murderer was distracted by the taste of his own blood. He froze when he heard the approach of footsteps outside his bedroom. As before, they stopped in front of his door. Skirting the golden light streaming through the space beneath, for the hundredth time, Charles grabbed the knob.

Labored breathing announced the presence of something alive on the other side of the door. Maybe it's through toying with me. He twisted the knob to the right and pulled, but it resisted all pressure and Charles's control snapped.

“I'll pay anything you want,” he shrieked. “I have thousands of dollars... you'll be rich. Just let me out for pity's sake!” A blast of heat through the key hole sent pain shooting up his arm.  “Bastard! I'll hunt you down and make you pay for this." 

The light blinked out, and the sounds of the crying infant ceased. Whatever was on the other side of the door released his hand. Charles shredded his shirt sleeve and wrapped his wounds. He lit a candle and waited for his pounding heart to calm. How long have I been trapped in here? I have a train to catch. Retrieving a watch from his breast pocket, he found the glass smashed, the hands forever set on the hour of his heinous deeds. Impossible! It was fine the last time I looked.

Charles shook his fist at the ceiling. “How dare you treat me this way. Don't you know who I am?”

The air grew thick followed by a loud crack and a splitting open of the floor at his feet. As he teetered at the edge of a black pit, Charles heard the pleas of the damned and the seductive calls of those who knew their own.

Defying the magnetic pull of the abyss, he twisted his body and dove onto the surface of his bed. Flinging his arm across his face, he tried to pull himself together. I just need to rest. This nightmare will end, and I'll find myself safely settled in England.

Moments later, his bubble of delusion collapsed. The infant resumed its screaming, and heavy boots walked up and down the halls. Charles gathered his withering energy and cast his thoughts outward, "Brotherhood of Cado, hear me! Come to my aid!"

Each word echoed around him as if spoken from the bottom of a well. Then, at the point of despair, a wind materialized that shook the walls and sent the rooms' objects into a frenzied flight. It filled him with hope; and, like a stone caught up in a hurricane, Charles Bellingham, Lord of the Manor, disappeared into the realm of the unquiet dead.

**********

The Tipsy Butler, February 7, 2010

Innkeepers Bernadette and Wally greeted the team's members in the lobby of The Tipsy Butler Bed and Breakfast. After introductions, Emma handled check-in arrangements with Wally, while Bernadette escorted Mia, Mike and Luke to the second floor.

They followed Bernadette into the first room on the second-floor landing. The Cook's Room was decorated with nautical antiques and sported a color theme of cool blue, warm beige and island green. Luke dropped his bag onto a side chair and approached the beds.

He bounced off the edge of the one nearest the bathroom. A grin lit up his face. "This bed gets my seal of approval.”

Bernadette returned his smile. "I thought this would work well for you two gentlemen. It has a more masculine feel to it and is our most-requested room."

Placing her hand on Mia's arm, she said, "I have a really lovely room at the end of the hallway, called The Crowne Suite, for you and Emma." Leading the way, she continued, "It has an authentic claw-footed tub, and I've decorated it with my grandmother's antiques. Female guests find it soothing."

The room had a Compass Star-patterned Amish quilt on the queen-sized bed, floral needlepoint canvases on the walls and a settee sprinkled with pillows in colors complementing the bed quilt.

"It's beautiful," Mia said. "What a stroke of good fortune it became available."

"Quite mysterious how that came about, if you ask me," the Innkeeper replied. "The gentleman who was supposed to have this room is an auditor for the state of Maine and stays here in February without fail. The audit starts this Monday, so I'm very surprised at his cancellation."

Mia made no response, and Bernadette sensed she wanted to be left alone. "Please don't hesitate to give me a buzz if you need anything. I hope you'll be happy with the room. It's my personal favorite."

***

Emma, who'd finished the business arrangements, entered the room unnoticed. She quickly read the situation. Mia is ready to drop from exhaustion. We need to give her some space.

Grasping Bernadette's elbow, she drew her back through the doorway with a steady stream of conversation. "I think we'll be very comfortable in this room. I love the way you've decorated it. Reminds me of my grandmother Shaw's house. She filled her home with antiques and quilts. In fact, she was quite well known for her quilting skills."

"I'd love to hear more. Perhaps over breakfast? Not to boast -- well, just a little -- but that's one of the universal comments we get. Folks claim our breakfasts keep them coming back year after year. Tomorrow I'll be preparing carrot cake pancakes with cream cheese frosting." 

"Oh, Lord. That sounds delicious and very hard to resist."

"They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Bernadette chuckled. "At The Tipsy Butler, we aim to make it the most enjoyable one as well."
 
***

Mia smiled as Luke whooped at this last statement. He never gains an ounce despite eating enough for three people. Not fair. 

Entering the brightly lit bathroom, she filled the tub, adding bath salts provided by the Inn. The translucent figure of a small woman in servant's attire stood beneath the witch's window waiting for acknowledgement, but Mia would not drop her psychic shields or allow communication to flow until she'd had a proper rest.

No more than a half hour later, there was a light rap on the door followed by Emma's voice, rousing Mia from her contemplation.

"Are you okay, Mia?"

"I'll be right out. Just finishing my bath."

Mia stepped from the tub and dried herself off. She took one of the plush terry robes on the back of the door, courtesy of the Inn, and wrapped it about her body. When she opened the bathroom door, the rest of the suite was filled with the invigorating scent of lavender.  

Emma's eyes revealed her concern. "You look better, Mia. Feel up to going out for dinner with us?"

"No, I'm going to stay behind and rest until you get back. Have you been able to speak with the contractor about meeting us at the Manor?"

"Just got off the phone with Jim. He's seen some TV shows about ghost hunters and was worried about being made to look stupid in front of millions of people. I assured him we are not part of a reality series and work privately. I just hope he shows up tonight as promised." Mia laughed at the chagrined look on Emma's face and soon had her friend joining in. Everyone on the team shared strong opinions about their media counterparts.

Emma continued, "I'm not surprised you don't feel like eating in a noisy, public place after this morning's psychic attack, but Bernadette has offered to fix a tray for you to eat something here in the room."

Mia stroked Emma's cheek with the edge of her thumb and looked into the lovely young woman's green eyes. "I've got energy bars packed in my bag, but I honestly just need sleep, not food, right now. Please don't worry. There's no trace of Charles Bellingham here. I don't believe his spirit wanders very far from the source of his power, the caretaker. Now get going before Luke passes out from hunger."

After Emma's departure, Mia slowly pivoted, looking into each corner of the room, except for the one where the old lady waited. Grasping a worn rosary, she crawled beneath the comforter, pulled it up to her chin and fell asleep.

The old woman holding vigil in the corner moved to the side of the bed and stood looking down at the tiny woman with delicate features and auburn hair that spilled across her pillow.

A second figure, even less substantial than herself, hovered at the foot of the bed. She's so frail, Margaret. How will she manage to defeat Charles? His powers grow with the Brotherhood's help.

She's not the only one with The Gift, Catherine. There's another. Our efforts combined will send Charles Bellingham to hell once and forever.