Her Sanctuary

By Elizabeth Maxim

Lucas Jacobs has a passion for motorcycles, surfing, and busting psychic frauds. Oh, and women too, but there haven't been too many of them in his life lately, more's the pity.

A man who keeps his own counsel, he doesn't sweat the cases he can't explain. After all, how much harm can a ghost do?

When an investigation into a haunted winery leads to uncharted celestial territory, the paranormal investigator learns that when it comes to women and ghosts, what you don't know CAN hurt you...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Maxim
• Release date: Aug 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301740598

Elizabeth Maxim

If Elizabeth were to map her life’s journey, it would resemble the chaos of a Pac-Man game but out of this chaos came the foundation for her stories. She draws from knowledge, personal experience, and imagination in creating strong independent characters who steer their own destiny... often with a little help from love.Elizabeth studied alternative medicine with an MD for several years before earning a doctorate of philosophy in that field. She also holds a bachelor's degree in holistic childcare. Currently living in the Pacific Northwest, she is the author of multiple books, fiction and nonfiction, as well as two blog sites.You can follow Elizabeth at elizabethmaxim.com.

Book preview

Other titles by Elizabeth Maxim

Fiction

Psychic Hangover*

Kerry's Game**

Silicon Valley Hangover*

The Company She Keeps**

* Hangover Series

** Psi Adventure Series

Non-fiction

Riding the Waves: Diagnosing, Treating and Living with EMF Sensitivity

After Here: The Celestial Plane and What Happens When We Die

Angles & Engineers: Spirits and Angels Among Us

Breaking the Waves: A Primer on Sensitivity to Electromagnetic Frequencies

Flowers That Bloom in the Dark: Surviving Abusive Families and the Communities That Support Them

Her Sanctuary

Published by Elizabeth Maxim

Published by Elizabeth Maxim at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Maxim

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher except for the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

elizabethmaxim.com

For Dylan, Hunter & Aaron,

Thank you for your endless support and enthusiasm.

Chapter One

How did one end up earning a living as a paranormal investigator? What convoluted path dropped one at the doorstep of the dead? Kerry Murphy, lead investigator for the Pacific Institute for Paranormal Research, pondered these questions as she drove toward her next assignment.

It wasn’t enough to be able to see and communicate with spirits. Her boss’ girlfriend, a natural medium, wanted nothing to do with psychic happenings and went out of her way to avoid anything paranormal, which had to be awfully difficult given that the boss took his role beyond that of supervisor. He regularly participated in paranormal investigations. She shook her head. They must have quite the relationship talks.

It wasn’t an obsession for the macabre. She’d steered away from slasher films that were all the rage with her high school peers, and although she’d been seeing spirits since she was in second grade, she didn’t think she was overly fascinated by death.

She didn’t feel any pious obligation to guide spirits to the other side. In spite of having gone through Catholic school, she didn’t consider herself particularly religious. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if she was. The ghosts certainly weren’t. At least, not that she’d noticed.

Frowning at a darkening sky and an empty road meandering toward the horizon, she tried to recall the directions she’d written down but then left on the kitchen table. She couldn’t call her roommates and ask and her GPS wouldn’t help. Some parts of Northern California hadn’t yet moved into the 21st century. There was no cell signal.

Just when the thought of being lost had anxiety tugging at her awareness, a sign fifty yards ahead caught her eye. Set back off the road, it was almost completely obscured by an overgrown shrub. She could barely make out an arrow directing visitors to an equally hard to spot turnoff.

Talk about stealth marketing, she groused, turning onto a dirt road that would lead her up to the winery.

As she bounced along a lane barely wide enough for two cars and obviously in need of maintenance, she decided it was probably best to quit worrying about the how and why of it. There wasn’t one single event she could point to and say that was it. That’s where I might have turned left instead of right. The reality was she was a paranormal investigator, and a damned good one at that.

Her teeth clacked together as the car hit a particularly deep rut. She jerked the wheel to avoid hitting a huge rock, sighed.

It is what it is. There was no one to blame. She may as well accept it and move on.

Five minutes later she realized that the large rock she’d avoided had been the marker for the driveway. It took another twenty minutes to find a place to turn around. By the time she was parking, she was more than ready to get to work.

Wow!

If there was ever a scene for a haunting, this was it. The historic winery seemed abandoned. Two enormous oak doors acted as sentries to an inner courtyard. Just beyond and slightly up a mountain slope, a large gothic style building, almost black in the midnight hour, stood in silent supplication to a sky the color of cobalt threaded through with dark lavender.

Kerry continued her assessment. The only sound was that of the few leaves which had somehow survived the winter winds scraping against otherwise bare branches. Although it was spring, the higher elevation meant it was too early for new buds, leaving the dead leaves to wave like handkerchiefs with too much starch. The trees rose up out of the earth like claws reaching for the moon. Yep, she reflected, smiling, definitely Hollywood style spooky.

Slinging a duffle bag over her shoulder, she reached for the groceries she’d brought, locked the car, and started toward the main entrance. There was just enough moonlight to ensure she wouldn’t do a face plant as she made her way over gravel toward where her colleague, Lucas Jacobs, waited for her to take over his shift.

As a rule, surveillance work wasn’t her favorite, and it was at times like these she missed her other colleague the most. Matt Winters hadn’t seemed to mind hours spent sitting around waiting for something to happen, and had often taken her shifts. Unfortunately, the FX expert was unavailable for the foreseeable future. He was trapped somewhere, or rather somewhen, else. She continued to believe, to hope, that when he finished whatever task fate had set before him, he would return to their time.

A glance at the phone display showed all the bars. That made sense to her. The winery was a business and most people had cell phones. Suppliers and business associates wouldn’t be comfortable using the house phone to make calls. She hit speed dial four.

You out front?

And hello to you, too, Lucas. How do I get in this place?

I’ll be right there. I’ve got the vids up so don’t worry.

That was one thing she wasn’t. Although she was intrigued by the idea of a haunted winery, she wasn’t worried that in the short time it took for her coworker to come and let her in, they would miss some supernatural event. In her experience, ghosts liked an audience.

One of the oak doors swung open silently.

Hey.

The owners asleep?

Up at the main house. There’s a night security guard but he’s more of a backup.

To what? she asked, stepping into the courtyard.

He took the groceries and shined a flashlight upward. See that camera?

So they have an elaborate alarm system? Good. It meant they could review films. She took no more than a handful of steps when she went down on the gravel.

Are you alright?

‘Yeah, fine; just tripped over something." The area before her was suddenly illuminated.

Take my hand.

The moment she did, a jolt of electricity traveled up her arm and down her spine. Her body jerked in response.

Are you sure you’re okay? He studied her in the glow of the flashlight. Are you getting something?

No, nothing like that, she replied, dusting herself off. Just a shiver. No big deal.

For several seconds they stood quietly. When it came to seeing in the dark, her colleague had proven himself a top paranormal investigator. She could feel his gaze, could sense him deciding whether or not she was being truthful. She worked to push any discordant energy down through her body into the earth.

Ready? he asked, finally.

Always. She walked with him to the stone structure nestled against the hillside.

The scent of recently polished wood abused her nose the moment she stepped through the door and she was reminded of a haunted bed and breakfast they’d worked. The owners, two elderly sisters, kept every surface, wood or otherwise, polished within an inch of its life. Her stomach clenched. It was on that job Matt had disappeared

A long corridor stretched out before them. Wall sconces, hung every five feet ensured some light, though not much since each contained only a fifteen watt bulb.

I’d introduce you to Manuel but he’s sleeping. That’s the security guard. Nice enough guy. I convinced him that between the security system and our presence, he could relax for once, take the night off. The owners were fine with it. He pointed to the right. We’re in through here.

Like the hallway, the room was lit by sconces. A table lamp in the corner gave the space a pleasant ambiance. Lucas switched off the flashlight and set it on a large table that took up almost an entire half of the room. Kerry stepped up to it and ran a hand over the rough surface.

This used to be a door.

Gotta love recycling, he answered.

She studied the room. Interesting. It’s built into the mountain, isn’t it?

That part is at the other end of the hall. The guy that built this place was descended from a long line of wine makers in the Pyrenees. The design is based on some old drawings his grandfather’s grandfather made of the place they had in Europe.

Can we get a look at the designs?

They’re in that book there, on the table.

She picked up a black three ringed binder. The light in the sconce flickered off and back on. She eyed her colleague. That happen often?

First I’ve seen it.

It happened again. They both looked at the monitors.

You sense anything? he asked.

Not a thing. She pursed her lips. Is this where the activity is centered? In this old building?

Yep. Nothing up at the house and no one working the vineyards has mentioned anything.

Who was the first to report something?

A niece visiting from across the country has documented her experience. It’s pretty detailed.

How old is this niece?

Twenty-three.

When?

This past summer, while we were working down in Malibu, he answered, referring to an investigation that directly involved their managing director, Mark Reynolds, and his girlfriend, Caelin Montgomery.

She set the binder on the table. Have you interviewed her?

No. She’s back in Tennessee. He pointed to another binder, this one red. That’s her diary. She’s agreed to talk with us via email or phone if we have any questions or need any clarification.

Kerry quit studying a painting on the wall and looked over her shoulder. Then what do they need us for?

The light in the sconce flicked off, then on.

He ignored the fixture. Ms. Murphy? I don’t ask why. I show up and do my job.

She turned to face him. And you form an opinion. What’s going on that you aren’t telling me?

He gave her a small smile but said nothing more.

She mentally shrugged and let it drop. Pressing Lucas for an opinion he wasn’t ready to share would be an exercise in futility.

Okay, what else should I know?

This place is set up like an ancient monastery. The original winery was part of one, I understand.

It was common for those living at a monastery or abbey to earn a living making wine, beer, and cheese. In parts of the world it still is.

There’s a large room at the other end of the hall. It’s where they age the wine; a cave. Feels like one, too. That’s the part built into the mountain. Word to the wise, wear a jacket.

I take it the temperature is electronically regulated? Lots of machinery?

The kind that could affect our equipment.

He shook his head. Being built into the mountain means the temperature is maintained naturally. They have a backup system in case Mother Nature gets cranky but they said they’ve been lucky this year.

Where’s the equipment?

Deeper into the mountain which ensures it doesn’t interfere with our job. He walked to the door, yawned. I’m beat. There are a couple of rooms with cots. Manuel is in the one closest to the wine. I’m going to take the one next door. If you need anything, yell.

She set the grocery bag on the table and began loading food and drinks into the mini fridge Lucas had strapped to the back of his motorcycle, a blue BMW K 1600 GT. Across the room, the recording equipment quietly hummed. Three small monitors showed active displays, each highlighting a different part of the electromagnetic spectrum. Different feeds rotated so that she was able to continuously view different parts of the winery. She grabbed the red binder off the table, put on the headphones Lucas had been using, and sat in the doorway.

"Because I’m studying architecture I was anxious to see my uncle’s winery in the mountain."

Her back aching, Kerry repositioned herself and hoped she wasn’t about to read some student’s treatise on early European building styles.

"At least that’s what I told Diana."

Reflexively, she sat up straighter, her eyes focused on the story.

"Although she is smart enough, it was easy to keep up the pretense. People see what they want to see."

Kerry smirked. That was certainly true enough.

"The real reason I’m here is to see if I can determine whether or not the place is haunted."

She inhaled sharply and squinted accusingly toward the hallway. Lucas had left out quite a bit of the story.

"It all started when they did some work to reinforce the old beams in the main building. Several of the workmen began complaining about pranks that included disappearing tools and lights that moved around. This made sense in a way since spirits don’t like construction and are known to pop up when a historical site is undergoing some sort of renovation."

Another truth. This case was certainly getting interesting.

"Even after the workmen left, problems continued. The security guard, a gentle man who’d worked for my uncle for over ten years, suddenly quit. His replacement didn’t last a month. Then they hired Manuel. He’s a devout Catholic and not afraid of espíritus de los muertos."

Spirits of the dead. She’d make a point to talk with the security guard.

"I told Diana I wanted to stay in the original building to get a feel for the environment, that it would help me when I worked with clients since I could ask them what feeling they were looking for and not just the angles and circles that went into making a building. She bought it.

The place was built in the nineteenth century, but the design is from a century earlier. A winery built into a mountain is far from unique but this place still held some pleasant surprises for a builder’s daughter."

Kerry made a coffee on the Tassimo, hoping Lucas would sleep through the noise made by the bar code reader as it scanned the t-disc.

"As one would expect, most of the materials were sourced locally. It would have been far too expensive to import what they needed. However, the doors, along with the wine casks, were brought in from elsewhere. The records are, unfortunately, incomplete."

Kerry skimmed the paragraphs, grateful the young woman had used a word processor and printed out her account. Reading other people’s handwriting put a serious strain on the eyes, not to mention her patience.

"It was on the third day that the spirit made his appearance."

Kerry opened a notebook Lucas had brought and turned to a blank page. She scribbled her name, the date and time at the top, then made a note. Subject believes ghost is male. She went back to the red binder.

"I was having dinner in the main cellar located in the mountain. There was a loud crash in the room nearest the entrance."

The room Kerry was sitting in.

"I was surprised to see the table tipped over. It’s made from a heavy oak door with massive legs that would have withstood a significant earthquake. I didn’t see anyone in the room but as I turned to leave I saw an orb floating in the doorway."

Kerry took off the headphones and stood in the center of the room. She didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary so she approached the table. She crouched down and inspected the legs. The niece had been right. The table was sturdy enough on its foundations that it would take a powerful force to knock it down.

"I had to go to my uncle in secret. If Diana suspected my true purpose, let alone what happened…I shudder to think."

Kerry picked up the notebook. Ask Lucas if he’s met the owners together. Marriage trouble?

Feeling restless, she took off the headphones, stood, and stretched. She glanced at the monitors, then at her watch. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Knowing the video feed would continue to record various images that could be reviewed later, she decided to walk around.

A natural psychic, Kerry preferred to let her senses to do the work her colleagues relied on technology for. She often felt paranormal energies long before their equipment set off alarms and in this way, they made a solid investigative team. Lately, however, she’d begun to worry that, being short a man, they were not as efficient. She’s said as much to their director.

"Mark, if I have to sit around wearing the headphones, watching the video, I can’t easily tune into my senses. I think that puts us at a disadvantage. We work best when we all execute on our strengths, and my strength is being able to sense the stuff psychically, not using machinery."

"I understand your concern, but as far as I can tell, this inconvenience hasn’t negatively impacted your ability to do the job."

"Inconvenience?"

"It’s temporary, right? So, yes it’s an inconvenience."

So, he also believed Matt would return. But when?

"You know we have to back up our conclusions with as much hard evidence as possible. As good as you are, you cannot translate your psychic sensations into measurable data like video, sound, and light recording."

She’d bit down on her temper. How temporary is this inconvenience?

"You mean when are we going to hire a replacement for Matt?"

She’d said nothing, simply nodded.

He’d paced in front of the window the way she’d seen him do whenever he was wrestling with something. In many ways he was a softie and she loved him for it, but this was business. He stopped and stared down at the San Francisco Ferry Building, shook his head.

"We have a staff meeting coming up. I’ll put it on the agenda."

"Can I make a suggestion? Let Lucas do the hire."

"I would think, given your abilities for reading people, you’d be better suited for that."

"I think given the situation -."

He turned. You mean Lucas’ refusal to believe that Matt has really traveled backwards in time and is, at this very moment, somewhere in the past?

For a long time, she hadn’t responded. What could she say? She squirmed beneath his gaze. Finally, she spoke.

"This is a difficult situation for all of us, but especially Lucas. I think it would be a good first step for him. Give it some thought, okay?"

While she’d been telling the truth, there was another, more important motivation behind her suggestion they hire another person. When it came to how they approached paranormal investigations, she and Lucas were like yin and yang. Their opposite approaches often served to round out the investigations, but it also left them in a frequent state of conflict.

She was a natural psychic who used her abilities to help resolve paranormal problems. Lucas was a material sciences engineer who spent his time working to prove psychic phenomenon was a hoax. Even after numerous cases were ruled in favor of paranormal phenomenon, he remained skeptical enough that she sometimes wondered why he continued to work at the institute.

I like the challenge.

Chapter Two

Kerry was pretty certain there was more to it than that but his tone told her he had no intention of really opening up about it and she knew better than to push the issue. When it came to the outside world, Lucas Jacobs kept people at a healthy, if somewhat paranoid distance. With the exception of their missing colleague.

Matt had been a solid counterbalance to their divergent approaches and with him out of the picture they were left to find ways of setting aside their differing philosophies in order to ensure they stayed focused on investigations. For some reason, that had become more challenging of late.

She returned to the doorway and put on the headphones, leaving the red binder on the floor.

It wasn’t anything specific, more like a constant tension. He’d never lost it but the emotions simmering beneath the surface kept her on edge. She stared at the monitors without really seeing them. Was something going on in Lucas’ personal life beyond his feelings about Matt’s disappearance and the paranormal phenomenon behind it?

She could certainly use her abilities to probe his feelings but that came with consequences. When someone’s energy merged with her own, even briefly, there was a risk she would continue to feel that energy for months, if not years, often unexpectedly. It made break-ups a nightmare.

The nature of investigative work meant spending a great deal of time together, sometimes sitting side by side well into the wee hours of the morning. On top of that the institute was small. There were only four of them. Given the nature of their business, how few of them there were, she worked hard to shield herself from and shut out the energy of her colleagues. It was a struggle at times to keep professional and personal friendships separated by solid boundaries. And for some reason, Lucas was proving the most challenging in that regard.

At least part of it had to be the situation with Matt’s disappearance. They’d been investigating the haunting of an exclusive bed and breakfast in San Francisco. While searching the basement, she’d come upon a