AN: Sorry I haven't gotten around to replying to all the reviews you left me last week but I will soon. RL has been kicking my arse LOL! Thanks to all the new followers and favs and, if you enjoy reading this, I hope you'll leave a comment. They are all important and mean the world to me! Had a bit of trouble with this chapter and couldn't have gotten it to you without the mad skillz of my BFF Rita01tx. My eternal thanks and gratitude BB!

A Rendezvous with Death

Chapter 14

"'Tis strange that death should sing."
-William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Monday, June 3, 2013

BPOV

Jacob Black and my sister were obviously taken with each other. Once they'd stopped ogling each other, he explained why pruning the tree would keep it healthy and how gardening was what he did for a living. He helped me and Carrie bring the things we'd purchased inside and stayed to flirt with her while I got dinner started. I didn't know what time he left but, when I went to find her and invite him to dinner, he was already gone and I didn't see her anywhere. I looked outside first before searching the bottom floor. She was nowhere to be found. At that point, I figured she was in her room and made my way upstairs. I knocked but there was no answer. I knocked again…still, no answer. When I opened the door, I found her sitting on the edge of her bed holding something in her hand and looking at it adoringly. The room was mostly dark but one small lamp illuminated her silhouette. I couldn't make out her face, just her outline.

"Carrie, dinner is ready," I called softly from the doorway.

She made no attempt to answer, nor gave the slightest acknowledgment she'd even heard me.

"Carrie, are you all right?"

No reply. She moved her hand slightly and whatever she was holding caught the light in such a way that it sparkled. It was glorious, at first, but then the strangest feeling came over me. I felt like I'd been shoved violently against the wall and held there with a desperate need to save my sister and yet I hadn't moved at all.

Completely unnerved, I yelled to get her attention

"Carrie!"

Her head snapped around in my direction.

"Get out! Why don't you learn to fucking knock!" she screamed and the door slammed shut all on its own!

I fled downstairs in tears.

Throughout our entire lives, Carrie had never, ever, yelled at me…not once!

~o0o~

EPOV

My entire morning had been spent glued to the computer doing research on wines and making moonshine, among other things. Mac had played quietly nearby until she got bored and sought out Leah for company. Not that I blamed her but damn it; I was going to have to watch myself. The last thing I wanted to do was alienate my baby girl. In the late afternoon, desperate to get out of the house, if only for a little while, I'd driven into town for a strong cup of coffee at some random diner only to return to more hours on the computer. Finally glancing at my watch, I was startled to see it was nearly eleven thirty. How had it gotten so late when Mac had come in to kiss me goodnight only moments ago? I rubbed my aching eyes and stretched my stiff back realizing then how absolutely exhausted I was. All I wanted to do now was sleep.

Kicking off my shoes at the foot of the bed, I carelessly tossed my clothes onto the floor beside them and crawled into the welcoming warmth and comfort of my king-sized bed. Unfortunately, my mind wasn't ready to shut down.

It had been a month since I'd talked to Leah and witnessed the jar of peaches go flying across the counter, smashing into the wall with incredible force. I'd searched everywhere in every way for a logical explanation only there wasn't one. I still couldn't accept the possibility of ghosts. It was too insane to contemplate! Modern technology and research had taught us many things. We could drill a hole through a wire the size of a human hair, walk on the moon and explore outer space, and transplant various organs in the body making it possible for people to live who would have died. We could view the human skeleton within the human body and diagnose diseases while the patient was still alive. We could make a thousand songs fit into a box that wasn't much bigger than a thumbnail. We could even video chat with people on the other side of the world so, with all our modern technology, you'd think proving ghosts were real would be a piece of cake. However, such was not the case and, until it was, I refused to believe it.

As a lawyer involved in spousal and child abuse cases, I'd seen some pretty freaky things over the years. Consequently, I was more prepared to accept the possibility Leah had telekinetic powers she might not even be aware of than to believe Cullen House was haunted. A former client of mine had such powers and I'd been present to witness them. Though rare, it was a proven fact telekinesis actually existed in some people, usually manifesting during emotional distress. Leah had told me her mother used to bring her to Cullen House as a child. Maybe she'd been the source of all the paranormal activity all along! That was far more believable to my rational mind than invisible spooks roaming the property, having temper tantrums and throwing peaches.

Having finally reached a sufficiently logical explanation, I settled down to sleep. Tomorrow, I would add researching telekinesis to my work schedule. With any luck, I'd be able to devise a few experiments to test my theory without Leah's knowledge.

Something woke me up! I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping but a strangely familiar sound had jolted me awake. I lay motionless in my bed, ears straining for a recurrence. Suddenly, my heart lunged straight up into my throat. There it was again…coming from inside the house! It sounded exactly like the song I'd heard in my dreams of the lady in white who walked the orchard! How frustrating that, when she'd been singing, I'd known the melody and lyrics of the song but, once I'd woken up, I couldn't recall them at all. Now, however; someone was humming the same song and, despite its familiarity, I still couldn't place it.

Listening intently in the dark room, I heard light footsteps mingled with the humming. My head automatically turned to follow the sound, which seemed to be coming from down the hall but above me. That couldn't possibly be right! The only thing down the hall and above my bedroom was the attic and it was locked. Or was it? Clearly, someone was in the house who shouldn't be! At the thought of an intruder anywhere near Mac, I shot out of bed frantically searching for my pants but they were gone…so were my other clothes and my shoes!

Leah!

Oh, that did it…I was infuriated now! I'd have to be very careful not to let her know I was onto her so I rushed to my closet without turning on the lights and grabbed a pair of pants. Why she would go this far to concoct a fake ghost story, I had no idea but she wasn't going to get away with it! Convinced she was up there rigging her next "haunting," I was bound and determined to catch her in the act.

My bare feet made no noise as I tiptoed across the hall to check on Mac who was still safe in her bed. Relief flooded through me as I watched her sleeping peacefully but, once I'd savored the moment, my anger at Leah returned tenfold.

Quietly making my way down the hall to the attic door, I tried the knob only to find it locked. I tried again with more force but it wouldn't budge. Light was coming from the crack at the bottom and the humming was slightly louder now that I was so near the source. As I pressed my ear against the door to see if I could hear any better, it opened silently. What the hell?

Holding my breath, I crept up the bare, hardwood stairs as quietly as possible so I could catch Leah in the attic. When I'd finally climbed high enough to see the entire room, there was no sign of her. I hadn't made a sound so she'd have no reason to hide. As I stood waiting to see if she would step out from behind a support beam, the song ceased. Had she heard me after all? Assuming I'd been spotted, I climbed the rest of the way up the stairs and into the attic. Odds and ends accumulated over the last hundred or so years were stacked and stowed all over the place with every inch of it covered in a thick layer of dust. I looked around the floor but mine were the only footprints. What the hell? I'd heard her up here walking around humming that damnable tune…I know I did!

"Leah! You might as well come out, now. I know you're up here trying to trick me into believing a ghost haunts this house. If you just give up and admit it, I won't call the police to have you physically removed from my property!" I threatened loudly.

Nothing.

Growing more and more aggravated by the minute, I crossed the attic from one end to the other looking around support beams, lifting the covers off of whatever I could get my hands on without digging to deeply into the piles of junk.

Nothing.

Oh, I'd come across a few items of interest... an antique straight razor and sharpening strap, along with a soap cup and ancient brush, a late nineteenth century courting chair, and a damaged writing desk but not what I'd expected to find. Leah wasn't up here and, from the look of things, never had been. The path I'd cut through the dust was the only sign anyone had been up here in a very long time. So where had the music come from…the footsteps? Who had moved my clothes?

"Cullen House is cursed! Not only that…it's haunted!"

Leah's words resounded in my ears as certain incidents I'd witnessed since arriving at Cullen house began flashing through my mind. Besides the flying peaches, there had been all those cabinet doors hanging open and seeming to slam shut simultaneously, dreams about a lady in white singing that song, strange occurrences with the lights in the parlor, not to mention the workers having problems in the orchard and around the house. A weird sound akin to a nervous giggle forced its way from my lips and I snorted at my own behavior. Ridiculous! I could certainly see how someone might convince themselves this place was haunted. As for the sounds that had drawn me up here, I had no clue. Maybe it had been mice at play or perhaps an old music box had settled. Everything had a logical explanation if you thought about it hard enough.

Having decided it wasn't worth worrying about anymore, I turned to leave when something caught my eye. An old, leather bound book on the floor sat leaning up against a huge, covered painting. Maybe it was someone's journal containing valuable information about Cullen House. Having always had a curious nature, I crossed the room to pick it up with the intention of taking it with me. That painting intrigued me, as well. Covered in brown paper to protect the painted surface, I wondered what it depicted. Although appearing to be as tall as I was and about 5 feet wide, I managed to wriggle it free from where it stood leaning against the wall with several smaller objects and boxes placed in front of it. Despite its surprising heaviness, I hadn't caused any damage or had to move any of the boxes out of the way, first. From what I could feel through the paper, a gilt frame must have been the source of most of the weight. After finessing it from the place in which it had apparently been sitting for years, I maneuvered it to a clearing in the middle of the room. That's when I noticed an inscription on the back.

Nov 1st 1860

"To My Beloved On Our Wedding Day"

Wow! 1860. This painting was more than one hundred and fifty years old! I raised my hand to tear off the paper and reveal the painting to my hungry eyes but my fingers froze mid-air. Suddenly, it was freezing in here and goose bumps broke out all over my bare skin. My breath escaped past my lips in puffs of white mist. A faint giggle came from behind me and I whirled around expecting to see Mac standing there but what I saw made my blood run cold and had nothing to do with the sudden drop in temperature. Propped on top of an old dresser near the stairwell was a dust smothered mirror. Right before my very eyes, I watched in shock and horror as the words "Missed You" took form in the dust as if written by an unseen hand! Jumping backwards away from the impossible vision, something tangled in my feet and I fell.

Blinding pain lanced through my head and then...darkness.

~o0o0o~

Waking up moments later with a sore spot on the back of my head, I heard the faint sound of someone calling my name from very far away.

"Edwwaaaarrd..."

It sounded like the female voice from my dream of the lady in white. Right there and then, I wanted nothing more than to get out of that attic as fast as my feet would carry me! I scrambled to my feet, stuffing the journal into my waistband and gripping the painting with both hands. Turning to go down the stairs, I froze. The words "Missed You" were still written on the mirror. It had really happened! The sight of them hit my stomach like an anvil. My heart was lodged in my throat, now, and I had the insane idea something was going to reach out and grab me when I tried to pass the mirror! Struggling with the enormous painting, I managed to creep past the damned thing in order to get to the stairs. The painting was so massive, it really required two people to carry it but I was determined to get it downstairs, away from this crazy attic, before I removed the paper. In my efforts to stay as far away from the mirror yet still rush to carry the painting with me, I nearly toppled head over heels down the stairs and could quite easily imagine myself being buried by the huge canvas. Ha! That would make two ghosts haunting Cullen House! When I finally reached the doorway, I had to stand on the stairs and rotate the painting to the smaller side for it to fit through the tiny doorway. The moment the canvas and I cleared the door, I slammed it shut. I reached for the painting again but stopped. Although disoriented by fear and doubt of everything I'd just witnessed, curiosity still got the better of me and I reached for the doorknob. With a trembling hand, I gripped it and turned.

Locked!

I tried again and again but it wouldn't open.

Confounded by the extraordinary events of this night, I picked up the painting and wobbled my way back to my room as fast as I possibly could. Once safely inside, I shut and locked the door, turned on every light in the room and opened the closet to grab something warmer to wear. What the hell? All the clothes I'd removed earlier and tossed at the foot of my bed were hung neatly in my closet, along with my shoes, which were now positioned neatly on the floor. How had they gotten there?

Tossing the journal on my bedside table to read later, I made a beeline for the painting. In order to get a grip on the brown paper covering, I had to tilt it towards me. That was when the writing on the back jumped out at me again and I realized I hadn't read the entire inscription while I'd been in the attic, before the disembodied giggle had made me turn.

The inscription actually read,

Nov 1st 1860

To My Beloved On Our Wedding Day,

With Love, Edward.

Edward? Really? That was just too bizarre to be real. I tore the paper off the portrait and the whole world stood still. The life-sized painting was, beyond a doubt, the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen. She was exquisite! She sat on an ornately carved courting chair…the same chair I'd seen upstairs. Dressed in a silk, pale cerulean blue, antebellum ball gown, her hands were folded neatly on a white lace shawl in her lap. Behind her were white lace sheers and silk curtains in the same shade of pale cerulean blue. Despite the stunning color of the gown and how it seemed the color was created for her and her alone, it was her face and the smile she wore that captivated me the most. The cryptic smile upon the Mona Lisa would be jealous of this beauty. She looked like a woman in love, inwardly bursting with joy but also like she had a secret she couldn't wait to share. Demure, elegant, graceful, beautiful, sweet, precious, every possible lovely name I could think of fit her perfectly. She was... she was... I grappled for words good enough for her. She was... My Beloved!

What the fuck? Where had that thought come from? Panic stricken, I scrambled away from the portrait and raked my fingers through my, hair pacing back and forth across my bedroom, refusing to even glance in its direction.

"My Beloved!" I snorted.

In that moment, with startling clarity, I realized those two words were not only part of the inscription on the back of the painting, it was also the name I'd called the lady in white from my dream; a dream I'd had our first night here several months ago! What in God's name was going on around here?

Making an extreme effort to calm down, I took a deep breath, sat on the end of the bed and examined the portrait again. Her eyes were haunting. I cringed at that particular word but there was no other befitting such a mysterious look of joy and love. Completely captivated by this beauty, I couldn't look away from her. Who was she? Where had she come from? Had she lived here? Was this her wedding gift from "Edward?" Was she a relative? Oh, God! I hoped not! I mean, she had to be dead since the painting was over one hundred and fifty years old but the thought of being so attracted to her only to discover she was a relative would be so very…wrong.

Hours passed but I was unaware of time, lost in her beauty, wondering what had happened to her.

~o0o~

The woman in the painting held me in her thrall but something...something was struggling to pull my attention away from her. I tried to ignore it but, again, a niggling in my head told me it was important…that I needed to listen. Reluctantly, I turned my head away from the painting and listened intently.

Someone was knocking very softly at my bedroom door.

Highly irritated at this disturbance, I simply ignored the interruption. It was only when I turned back to the painting that I realized it was morning. I'd been up all night staring at this portrait. Morning… Important… Listen… Important.

Mac! Oh, my God! I wanted to run to the door as quickly as I could but my legs had long since fallen asleep. Hell, they were beyond asleep! They were numb and any movement was not only painful but practically impossible.

"Hang on, Mac. I'm coming!"

I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to rub the feeling back into my legs. Thousands of bee stings finally took the place of numbness and, as painful as it was, I knew it would pass soon enough.

"I'll be right there, Mac," I said, still briskly rubbing my legs. My sense of urgency to get to Mac wouldn't allow me to look at or even think about the painting. Finally, with enough feeling returned to my legs to walk without a limp, I unlocked and opened the door. Stepping out into the hall, I quickly closed my bedroom door behind me.

Mac was alone in the hall looking a little confused and a lot worried.

"Good morning, bunny," I grinned, bending down to her level.

She looked at me with that worried little face, contemplating whether or not everything was okay.

"It's almost not," she replied, smiling up at me

"Almost not, what?"

"It's almost not morning, anymore."

Frowning in puzzlement, I checked my watch. Although I knew it was morning, I couldn't believe it was already quarter to eleven.

"Me and Leah been waiting for you to come to breakfast but Leah said for me to come get you 'cause, if you don't come down soon, she's gonna throw your breakfast out and start making lunch. She made me go ahead and eat with Jake but I wanted to eat breakfast with you, Daddy."

"I'm sorry, bunny. I didn't realize how late it was. Let's go save Leah from throwing out my breakfast, shall we? I'm starved!"

I scooped Mac up and carried her down to the kitchen with me. Ever my pride and joy, she giggled all the way.

AN: Oh, I wonder what Edward will discover in the old journal he found? Why is he so entranced by that painting? What's got Carrie's knickers in a twist? Tell me your theories! Until next week, Happy Haunting LOL!