Charon's Crossing

"Matthew?" she said in a tiny voice.

She swung around in a tight circle, staring into each bright, sunlit corner.

"Matthew, please, don't do this to me."

There was still no answer.

How could there be? There was no one in the room.

Kathryn's teeth began to chatter. "No," she whispered.

It was impossible.

It was absolutely impossible.

Things like this didn't happen in real life. People didn't just—they didn't just up and vanish into thin air...

Ghosts did.

A soft whimper burst from her throat.

Ghosts vanished. They came, they went. Poof, just like that. They did it all the time, in books, in movies, on TV.

But this wasn't a book or a movie or TV. It was the real world. And ghosts did not exist in the real world.

Kathryn tried to swallow but a lump seemed to have lodged in her throat. She worked at it for what seemed like a long time. Then she took a breath and walked to the telephone...

The what, Catherine?

She closed her eyes, took several short, shallow breaths. Finally, she picked up the phone, waited for a dial tone, and jabbed her finger into the hole on the dial that was marked O.

The phone was old-fashioned. And the static was awful. But things worked pretty much the way they did at home.

You dialed the operator, you reached one, you asked for information, you got it.

Hiram Bonnyeman answered on the first ring.

"Hello?" Kathryn said. She cleared her throat. "Hiram, this is... Yes. Yes, that's right. Well, I'm sorry, too. I, ah, I was... Look, I know you said you couldn't get here to do any work until next week but, uh, but I have a special favor to ask." Her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore. Slowly, like a deflating rubber doll, she sank to the floor. "Could you possibly find time to drop by and just check the door locks? No, no, nothing's happened. I just—I mean, I'm all alone out here, and... Tomorrow morning? Great. No, honestly. Everything is fine." Kathryn hung up the phone and sat with it in her lap. Why are you clutching that thing, Kathryn? "Oh my god," she whispered...

What would Hiram have said if she'd asked him what locks worked best against a ghost?

Chapter 9

The phone call to Hiram was the easy part.

What had to be done next was a lot harder but Kathryn knew she could not spend the night in Charon's Crossing without checking it thoroughly from top to bottom.

If there were any more surprises here, she wanted to discover them now, while there was still some daylight left.

Armed with a flashlight, she made her way cautiously up the stairs, making sure she took a wide, wide detour around the cold spot.

Was it her imagination, or were the shadows deeper here on the second floor than they should have been this time of day?

The floorboards creaked as she made her way slowly along the East Wing corridor; she could hear the dull thump-thump of her heart beating in her ears. She put her hand on the door to the first bedroom and slowly, slowly eased it open.

The room was wrapped in muted shades of gloom... but at least it was empty. There was nothing under the bed but dust balls. That left only the closet to check. Kathryn took a deep breath, wrapped her hand around the doorknob, and pulled it open.

There was nothing in it but a couple of empty boxes.