Page 69 of Leafpoint Lighthouse

“Jane did marry. Not Allan, obviously. It seems the paper was released weekly. The marriage announcement must have been placed before his death, and it was too late to pull it. The following week contained Allan’s death notice and an article on his mysterious death. That was a busy week, as it also held articles about the lighthouse murders, the Damerell Gang’s disappearance, and the Jasper fire and deaths.”

“Who did Jane marry?” William asked hoarsely.

“A man called Kenneth Irvine. He was a vicar, and they appeared to live a happy life. I located another clipping with one of Kenneth’s sermons, and he talks about his wife and children. He praises Jane very much. Kenneth loved Jane; it was obvious.” I handed over the last printout, and William read it silently.

“Thank God.” William sighed. I kept researching and found another one ten minutes later.

“William, here. Jane passed away in eighteen-forty. Kenneth was still alive, and he gave her this beautiful obituary. He died days after her; the article says Kenneth couldn’t live without Jane. She had children and grandchildren. William, you’ve family out there!”

William stared in shock. He’d never considered that. “How would I introduce myself to them? No, they are better off without me.”

“William,” I chided, and he shook his head.

“No, Lyra. It is best that they remain ignorant. If the mayor is trapped below—why? And how do we get rid of him?” William changed the subject.

“I’ve no idea. I’ll keep researching,” I mumbled.

Barnaby was going to be a problem. I knew he was.

William

I was reeling from the revelations while anger warred with relief that Jane had lived a happy life. I couldn’t comprehend Barnaby’s level of deception. Had he agreed to our murders? Had Barnaby betrayed the Jaspers? If he had, who’d killed him? There were still unanswered questions. If Barnaby were here now, I’d beat him for answers.

So many deaths, and for what? Money? The Damerell Gang had earned a fortune. And Barnaby had lived in a grand house. I still didn’t know how I’d died. Staring out over the roiling sea below me, I knew we didn’t have all the answers. Maybe we never would, and that just frustrated me beyond measure.

Chapter Fifteen.

Lyra

William had been thrown by what we’d learned this afternoon and needed some time alone. He was currently watching Leafpoint’s lantern while Avery should be in his bedroom or with William. It worried me that gaps still existed in our knowledge. How could we defeat evil if we didn’t know what we faced? Sure, we knew it was Allan Barnaby, but what was he? A zombie, poltergeist, ghost? Or worse?

I heard a loud noise downstairs and wondered what William and Avery were up to. I’d been unable to sleep and had been relaxing against the pillows, scrolling through my phone, trying to discover any further information. The bang repeated, and I frowned. Was Avery up to something? Such was the life of a ghost boy’s mother; I smirked inwardly.

I climbed out of bed and headed to where they were. It wouldn’t have surprised me to find that Avery had slipped past William.

When I reached the kitchen, no one was there. Confused, I looked around, hearing another bang. I swallowed hard when I saw the rug covering the trapdoor move. It shuddered again, and I opened my mouth to scream. The rug shot aside, and the trapdoor flew open. A foul stench permeated the air, and I gagged. A white, bloated hand emerged, fingers so swollen they appeared distorted. It became an arm, and then a head surfaced.

The cry that left me was chilling. Slowly, a living corpse of a man emerged. His eyes were pale and red-rimmed and focused on me.

“Little Jasper,” he cackled and kept coming.

“William!” I screeched.

“That fool can’t come to help. He’s trying to save the lantern,” the dead man hissed, chuckling.

Panicked, I moved backward, scrabbling for a weapon.

“Who are you?” I gasped. Did that matter? Probably not. My hand closed on a saucepan, and I brandished it in front of me.

“Allan Barnaby. I’d say at your service, but you’re about to serve me.” The hissing laughter repeated as the corpse shuffled forward. Allan was terrifying, bloated, rotting, skin sliding off his bones, but what frightened me the most was the grin on his face.

“William!” I screamed again as a hand reached for me. Allan’s smell was overpowering, and I was gagging, but I swung the pan. I connected with Allan’s head and shrieked once more. His neck literally tilted at a ninety-degree angle, and his head landed on his shoulder before Allan merely reached up and straightened it.

“Leave my mum alone!” A whirlwind raced into the kitchen and shoved Allan backwards.

“Avery! No! Run!” I yelled.

Allan cackled, and as Avery came at him again, Allan raked his filthy nails down Avery’s spirit.