The Haunted Heart: Winter by Josh Lanyon Page A

followed him out to his truck. When we
were on our way, I said, “I guess I need to let Trooper Dunne know
the mirror has been returned.”
    Kirk gave one of those uncommunicative
grunts.
    “Will you still help me take that mirror
over to Mystic Barne this afternoon?”
    “I’m not sure it’s going to be that
easy.”
    “Because whoever stole it brought it
back?”
    He said grimly, “That’s got to factor into
our plans.”
    I was glad he said “our.” “Plans” didn’t
come amiss either.
    I said, “We were fine all the time the
mirror was gone. That must mean it has a limited range.”
    “It looks that way, but we could be wrong
about that. We don’t know anything for sure. Except that it seems
to be getting stronger.”
    “It,” I said thoughtfully, watching the
pretty shop windows of Chester slide by.
    “I don’t know what you want to call it.
Entity? Apparition? Whatever it is that uses that mirror as its
home base.”
    “I’ve always read these descriptions of
haunted inns and castles, and they always made them sound sort of
cute and cozy. Like it would be no problem to coexist with a lost
spirit. But this thing is nothing like that. It’s angry and…”
    “Dangerous,” Kirk agreed. He looked away
from the road. “You feel that too?”
    I nodded. “Antique or no antique, maybe
destroying the mirror is the only answer.”
    “I don’t think the physical destruction of
the mirror is going to get us anywhere. And at least this way we
have a focal point for her. If she’s just free floating out there,
that might make everything worse.”
    “She can get out of the mirror now.”
    “She may not be able to move far from it,
though.”
    “She can move from mirror to mirror. We know
that for sure. Of course if we destroy the mirror she might take up
residence in the bathroom cabinet.”
    He snorted. “When the mirror was gone we
didn’t have any problem.”
    “True. But the mirror didn’t stay gone. If
we knew who she was, maybe we could figure out what she wants.”
    “Maybe she doesn’t want anything anyone
could give her. Maybe the only thing she wants is to cause
harm.”
    “So what are you thinking? An exorcism?”
    “In ghost hunting circles it’s called a
cleansing.”
    I tried to laugh, but it wasn’t very
funny.
    We had breakfast sandwiches at The Villager
on Main Street. I was surprised to find I was actually hungry.
Starving in fact. The coffee was hot and strong, and the egg and
cheese and tomato on fresh baked bread tasted like the best thing
I’d ever had. I ate every bite. Kirk ate two sandwiches.
    Sitting in the cozy, charming café
surrounded by antique signs, historic black and white photos, faded
wooden crates, it seemed crazy to be talking about ghosts and,
well, evil. But evil was what we were really faced with, wasn’t
it?
    I stared at the large sepia-toned mural of
woods and a giant castle. I said, “I’m no expert on this stuff,
obviously, but in the movies the only way to get rid of a ghost is
to figure out why it’s still hanging around. Maybe I need to go
back to the beginning.”
    Kirk’s dark brows drew together in that
stern line. “Go back to the beginning how?”
    “I know where my uncle purchased the mirror.
A plantation called Bellehaven somewhere in Baton Rouge. Maybe I
need to…I don’t know? Maybe I should go down there. See what I can
learn.”
    He stared intently at me. “No. In fact, this
is what I was going to tell you. You have to leave. You have to go
home to Virginia.”
    “Huh?”
    “You have to leave. When we get back to the
house, you have to pack your stuff and go.”
    He didn’t seem to be kidding. In fact, he
was about as sincere as I’d seen him. He actually looked sort of
regretful.
    I said kindly, “Kirk, I’m technically the
landlord. So if anyone has to leave, it would be you. Not that I
want you to leave, unless you want to take the mirror with you, in
which case you have my blessing.”
    He got out his cell phone