GHOST OF A CHANCE, a paranormal short story by Pineiro Caridad

Author:Pineiro, Caridad [Pineiro, Caridad]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: mystery, jersey shore, new jersey, paranormal fiction, paranormal romance, Paranormal, prohibition, fiction, Romance, .99, novella
Publisher: Caridad Pineiro
Published: 2012-12-28T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Tracy slipped her arm through his. Awareness of him awoke again. How could it not? He was a handsome and seemingly caring man. What she was experiencing was due to that and not to any lingering effects from what had happened in the parlor.

If anything had actually occurred there, she thought. The logical and practical side of her refused to believe that Nancy the psychic had somehow managed to channel a spirit or two. Especially one who managed to take over Tracy’s body for only the space of a few heartbeats and yet had left behind emotions she was finding it hard to forget.

Instead of heading out her bedroom door, Peter walked her to the French doors and tossed them open. They strolled through the gardens and down to the water’s edge. The wind had kicked up the surf, washing ashore small jellyfish that glittered like diamonds from the moonbeams.

“It was dark the night it happened. Anna was afraid,” Tracy said, and wrapped her arms around herself, slightly cold from the strong ocean breeze.

Peter, who had been walking beside her with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the nip of the wind, slipped one arm around her and pulled her close. The warmth of him abated the cold instantly. “Francis was afraid also. I remember that feeling from the parlor room. He was very very fearful.”

“A local fisherman had been beaten to death about a week before. He used to deliver fish to the mansion. Maybe he brought more than that to the back door,” she said, providing Peter with the information she had discovered during her earlier research.

“If Izzy killed the Ryans—”

“I think the dead fisherman was a warning to Skippy to stop, but Izzy might not have been happy to stop there,” Tracy said as they neared a jetty that marked the end of the mansion’s property. She stopped and looked back toward the house, noticed the boathouse about ten feet away from where the jetty ended and a wall of rocks rose from the water and onto the shore. Sand turned to grass as the property sloped upward toward the boathouse.

Peering at Peter, she pointed to the boathouse. “Can we look inside?”

“We have the run of the entire property for the weekend, so hopefully they’ve left that open for us as well.”

Together, they ambled together to the door of the building. A shiny new padlock hung from a rusty latch hasp, but it was unlocked. They removed it and swung open the heavy doors to reveal the equipment within. An assortment of old chains, ropes, oars, and life preservers adorned the walls. In the center of the space, a wooden rowboat lay upside down across two sawhorses. Beside it on a small boat lift was a sixteen foot skiff painted a dark grey and sporting an outboard engine.

Peter and Tracy walked around the skiff and as they did so, Tracy wondered aloud, “It’s the right age and color for a rum-runners’ skiff.”

Peter climbed onto a cinder block beside the boat and examined a brownish stain along the top edge.

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