With a Spirit of Vengeance

By Lena Gregory

When the spirit of Ophelia Wilson turned to clairvoyant Cass Donovan for help, Cass was able to prove Ophelia’s innocence in the century-old murders of her family members—and solve a contemporary murder in the process. But Ophelia’s spirit has returned, this time angrily demanding that Cass expose the identity of whoever did kill her family. And then eerily, two descendants from the Wilson family tree are murdered, suggesting that Ophelia has the power to meddle in modern-day events to satisfy her rage.

As Cass struggles to solve the two recent murders and unravel the sparse clues about murders from a hundred years ago, she and those around her begin to suffer Ophelia’s wrath—including an attempt on the life of one of Cass’s closest friends. Relying on all of her own psychic powers, Cass has to confront the spirit’s hunger for vengeance and track down a merciless killer before she becomes the next victim of both . . .

Praise for the Bay Island Psychic Mystery series:

“The future shows much success for this series! Fun, vibrant characters (as well as a sexy smolder or two for good measure) give the novel just the right tone.” —RT Book Reviews on Death at First Sight

“I loved the protagonist, Cass. She and her friends were very well developed, and felt like a group of people I’d like to get to know.” —The Book’s the Thing

“This has quickly become one of my favorite series! Cass is fantastic . . . A well-written cozy mystery with a touch of the paranormal, making for a delightful story full of unexpected twists.” —Books a Plenty Book Reviews

About the Author:

Lena Gregory is the author of the Bay Island Psychic Mystery series and the All-Day Breakfast Café Mystery series. She grew up in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, and recently relocated to Clermont, Florida, with her husband, three kids, son-in-law, and four dogs. Her hobbies include spending time with family, reading, jigsaw puzzles, and walking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beyond the Page Publishing
• Release date: Jun 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958384039

Lena Gregory

Lena Gregory is the author of the Bay Island Psychic Mystery series, which takes place on a small island between the north and south forks of Long Island, New York, and the All-Day Breakfast Café Mystery series, which is set on the outskirts of Florida’s Ocala National Forest.Lena Grew up in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, where she still lives with her husband, three kids, son-in-law, and five dogs, and works full-time as a writer and a freelance editor.

Book preview

With a Spirit of Vengeance

When the spirit of Ophelia Wilson turned to clairvoyant Cass Donovan for help, Cass was able to prove Ophelia’s innocence in the century-old murders of her family members—and solve a contemporary murder in the process. But Ophelia’s spirit has returned, this time angrily demanding that Cass expose the identity of whoever did kill her family. And then eerily, two descendants from the Wilson family tree are murdered, suggesting that Ophelia has the power to meddle in modern-day events to satisfy her rage.

As Cass struggles to solve the two recent murders and unravel the sparse clues about murders from a hundred years ago, she and those around her begin to suffer Ophelia’s wrath—including an attempt on the life of one of Cass’s closest friends. Relying on all of her own psychic powers, Cass has to confront the spirit’s hunger for vengeance and track down a merciless killer before she becomes the next victim of both . . .

Title Page

Copyright

With a Spirit of Vengeance

Lena Gregory

Copyright © 2022 by Denise Pysarchuk.

Cover design by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

Published by Beyond the Page at Smashwords

Beyond the Page Books

are published by

Beyond the Page Publishing

www.beyondthepagepub.com

ISBN: 978-1-958384-03-9

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Books by Lena Gregory

About the Author

Chapter One

Cass Donovan hooked her arm through her best friend Bee Maxwell’s and leaned her head against his shoulder as they strolled along the beach. Seagulls screeched and dove toward the gentle surf, while Beast, Cass’s Leonberger, danced along the shoreline longing to go in after them. Cass considered the fact he restrained himself a tribute to Herb Cox, his trainer, since she’d had to go get him more than once when he’d splashed in after something and refused to come at her call.

Bee sighed, content with being proven right . . . again . . . and patted her hand. Admit it, Cass, taking the morning off to enjoy together was nice.

Mm-hmm. It was the best he was going to get, considering she’d already admitted three times in as many hours that he was right to push her to hire someone on at Mystical Musings, her psychic shop on Bay Island’s boardwalk, so she could take some much-needed time off. Not that she and Bee had done much—breakfast at the diner followed by a nice walk along the beach with Beast, so she could be close by if Thea had any problems—but not having to rush to get the shop open had been nice.

He looked down at her, the soft spring breeze ruffling his shaggy bleached blond hair. We have to do this more often.

Yeah, we do. That she could agree with. She hadn’t taken any time off since a series of tragedies had brought her back to her childhood home on Bay Island, where she’d fulfilled her lifelong dream and opened her little shop. Since then, Mystical Musings had become a popular stop among tourists and locals alike, attendance at her group readings had pretty much tripled, she’d started her own vlog, with Bee’s help, and soon tour groups would start running again and she was set to be a stop along the paranormal tour. From a business standpoint, she couldn’t be more thrilled, but from a personal standpoint . . . Well, she didn’t have much of a personal life. Even her relationship with Detective Luke Morgan seemed to have stalled as neither of them had much free time. As long as Thea continues to work out, maybe we’ll actually get to enjoy some of the summer. I’d love to go over to the mainland and spend some time at one of the ocean beaches, maybe hit up some of the antique shops.

Mmm . . . that would be nice. You know how much I love antiquing. Bee refrained from another I-told-you-so, for which Cass was grateful. Speaking of Thea, how is she doing?

It was Cass’s turn to sigh. She’s doing well enough in the shop. Exceptionally well, actually. She’s a fast learner, and I don’t have to tell her every little thing that needs to be done. She seems to enjoy the work. If we’re not busy, she finds something to clean or straighten. She’s amazing with the customers.

And you trusted her to open without you there, which is telling. He frowned. "So, why do I sense a but coming?"

She shrugged and released Bee’s arm, then bent to pick up a strip of driftwood. The smoothed wood would make a nice addition to one of the centerpieces that would adorn the tables at her next group reading. She seems tired, and . . . I don’t know, like something’s bothering her, I guess.

She won’t talk to you about what’s on her mind?

Cass shook her head. And it stung a little, considering she’d not only hired her in the shop but had also agreed to serve as her mentor.

Is she still having nightmares?

Now and then, that she’ll admit to, though I suspect they’re more frequent and more intense than she’s let on. Though Thea had always been pale, the dark circles ringing her eyes of late made her appear even more so, and Cass’s concern for her continued to grow.

Poor thing. Bee paused to pick up a flat rock. He smoothed a finger over it, then skipped it across the water’s surface. Not that I could blame her, really, considering what she’s been through.

True enough. Cass tried to choose her words carefully, knowing full well how Bee felt about anything otherworldly. Then again, there really was no way to sugarcoat the fact that Ophelia Wilson, the ghost of one of Thea Newburgh’s ancestors, who’d been convicted of murder and confined to Twin Forks Lunatic Asylum, had projected a message into the young woman’s mind and sent her in search of Cass.

Bee turned to stare at her. It’s okay, Cass. Say what’s on your mind.

I’m just wondering if Ophelia is done with her.

His bushy eyebrows shot straight up into his hairline and stayed there. A tremor ran through him. What are you talking about?

Uncomfortable beneath his stare, she squirmed. Since she’d been privy to his opinions often enough—Bee was most certainly not shy nor one to keep his thoughts to himself—she knew full well how he felt about interacting with the dead. Especially dead who’d been declared criminally insane and forced to live out the remainder of their lives in a mental institution back in the day. And yet, here she was, considering delving back into Ophelia Wilson’s past.

He gripped her shoulders, his touch gentle enough, yet firm. Look, Cass, we’ve been through this before, and you promised to walk away from that place and forget it existed.

Twin Forks Psychiatric Center, once known as Twin Forks Lunatic Asylum, where Ophelia had served out her sentence and died. Of course, that was a century before she’d reached out to Cass and helped her solve a more modern murder mystery—that of Elijah Anderson, who’d wanted to restore the old asylum compound and turn it into a boarding school. He’d come to Cass, despite his wife Evelyn’s objections, and asked her to look into the property, determine if it was haunted, if it would be a safe place to house children. Coincidentally, he’d sought her out at the same time Thea had come to her with Ophelia’s message, sometimes the dead are better left dead. Elijah was murdered before Cass had gotten the chance to offer her opinion, that the buildings should be torn down and the dead left to find peace. Especially Ophelia.

As if the poor woman didn’t suffer enough in life, especially if your theory that she was wrongly convicted is accurate, let Ophelia at least rest in peace now, Bee pleaded.

She nodded. He wasn’t wrong, though the words you’re right stuck in her throat—she wouldn’t want him to get any more full of himself than he already was.

Besides, Twin Forks is set to be demolished at the end of the summer to make way for the new park, since Mrs. Anderson donated the land. The warm breeze had dislodged a few strands of Cass’s long blond hair from her ponytail and Bee brushed them behind her ear.

True. And yet, something still gnawed at her, insistent, demanding. Her heart rate kicked up. Blood rushed in her head, pounded in her ears. Ophelia’s fate seemed intertwined with her own somehow, her story gripping, compelling Cass to search for the truth.

Unless, of course, Lila Delarosa gets her way.

What? Cass hadn’t heard the name before, and she wasn’t aware the fate of Twin Forks was in question. Who’s that?

She owns a new tour group on Bay Island, Paranormal Pursuits.

Cass groaned. That she’d heard of. She also heard they went to extreme measures to be certain the places they visited yielded results, even if it put their clients at risk. What does she want with Twin Forks?

Bee lifted a brow. You are kidding me, right? What better way to snag customers than to offer a tour of an abandoned psychiatric center, one that was once an insane asylum that housed some of Long Island’s most dangerous criminals?

She couldn’t argue that; it would definitely be a huge draw.

Heck, if I didn’t know the history, I might even have suggested it to Simone myself.

Simone Carlson, owner of Bay Island Ghost Tours, and a woman who’d become a close friend and mentor to Cass over the past months, had added Mystical Musings as a stop on her tours and was supposed to arrive in time for the start of the season.

The demolition is up to Evelyn Anderson, though, right?

Bee stared out over the water and shrugged. Supposedly, but now some historian from the mainland’s gotten involved, and he’s trying to have the place declared a historic landmark.

Is he going to get the demolition blocked?

I don’t know, but knowing Evelyn Anderson, probably not.

Thoughts of the older woman she’d originally thought so meek tumbled through her mind. In the end, she suspected Evelyn had a spine of steel. I hope you’re right, because that place needs to be gone once and for all.

Then maybe all of those who resided there will finally be able to find peace, Bee agreed.

She’d have to look into the situation, throw whatever little weight she had behind Evelyn if it came to that, beg them to let the past go if all else failed. Cass had done extensive research on Twin Forks in school, had studied the atrocities committed there, the ones they knew about. Then there was the suspicion about the experiments conducted there, rumors borne from its close proximity to Plum Island.

Hey. Bee waved a hand in front of her face. Earth to Cass.

The compassion in Bee’s eyes snapped her back to the present. You’re right—dang, she’d gone and admitted it again—we should leave well enough alone.

There’s nothing left we can do for anyone there. They lived in the past, so long ago records would be difficult if not impossible to come by.

But something still haunted her. Ophelia? Or something in her own mind?

If I thought for a minute we could solve a century-old crime and overturn Ophelia’s guilty verdict, don’t you think I’d be right there trying?

Since Bee was the single most compassionate, empathetic person she’d ever encountered and had already dug in to solve one murder from the past, she had no doubt he was sincere. She rested her cheek against his chest, comforted by his strong heartbeat, as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. I do know that, Bee. Thank you. But are you so sure the crime can’t be solved because there’s no evidence remaining, or because you don’t believe the dead can speak to us?

He set her back and grinned. You know my feelings on the woo-woo, but even I have to admit some of the things you’ve been able to do defy any rational explanation.

She grinned back at him. It was rare for him to admit there might be something beyond the here and now that she could tap into. Until recently, he’d held out for logical reasons to explain the things she was able to learn from the dead.

"Yeah, well, don’t get too cocky with yourself. I still believe most of what you see—he made quotation marks with his fingers—is good ole intuition enhanced by a healthy dose of common sense. What was it you told me when you first set up shop and started giving group readings you wanted me to attend? That years of psychiatric training combined with a knack for understanding people allowed you to ‘read’ them?"

Yes, and at the time I believed that was true. Of course, too many things had happened since then for her to hold on to that belief. And, at the end of the day, all she’d wanted to do was help people. It was still all she wanted to do. Only now, spirits had been added to the list of those she could help. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first riddle from the past we’ve solved.

No, I suppose not. He heaved in a breath, started to say something else, then looked over her shoulder and pointed a finger. Hey! Don’t even think about it.

Cass whirled to find Beast frozen at the water’s edge, one foot hovering as he stared over his shoulder at Bee. Beast, no!

With one last longing look at the water, he trudged up the beach toward them. If it was possible for a dog to sulk, he did. But at least he’d listened and obeyed the command instead of prancing into the water despite her order not to. It was a step in the right direction.

Cass lay a hand on his head. It’s too cold for you to go swimming.

Bee laughed out loud. You mean it’s too cold for you to go in after him.

Whatever. Same thing in her mind, since she knew full well once Beast had gone in, he wouldn’t come back out until he was good and ready, or until Cass went and got him. Not to mention when he did come out, his long black-tipped, reddish-brown fur and the thicker mane surrounding his massive head would be not only soaked but loaded with sand. Either way, he’s not going swimming right now.

Bee hooked an arm through hers, turned away from the bay, and started up the beach toward Mystical Musings. Even though the shop’s front door faced the boardwalk, the back door faced the beach, so they wouldn’t have to walk around.

Knowing where they were headed, and excited to get there and see people, Beast charged ahead, kicking up a spray of sand in his wake.

So, are we agreed you’re going to leave well enough alone? Bee demanded.

I suppose. Unless thoughts of Ophelia kept haunting her. Then, all bets were off. For now, at least.

I guess that’ll have to be good enough. He patted her hand, then released her as they started up the three steps to the wraparound porch. Anyway, when is Simone arriving?

She’s supposed to be here by Friday.

So she’ll be here for the celebration Friday night and the group reading on Saturday? He pulled open the door and stepped back for Cass to precede him.

Hopefully, since it will be the first group reading I’m doing specifically for her customers. She stepped through the doorway and stopped dead in her tracks.

Thea Newburgh stood in the middle of the floor, staring straight through Cass, a knife held high and covered in blood. Three bodies lay at her feet.

Cass tried to scream, couldn’t suck in any air. She stumbled backward, crashed into Bee, and they both went down in a jumble of arms and legs.

Beast yelped as he scrambled out of the way.

What the— Bee started.

Cass? What’s wrong? Thea hurried toward her, clutching a pen—no knife, just the pen. Are you okay?

Extricating herself from the tangle of limbs, Cass sat and scooted back away from Thea.

Cass? Having regained his footing, though Cass couldn’t figure how he’d managed it so quickly in his signature platform shoes, Bee leaned over her and held out a hand. Are you all right?

She reached for his hand, her own shaking violently.

Thea frowned. What happened?

With the vision still burned into her memory, a blast of frigid air rushed through her, and she shivered as she let Bee pull her to her feet. I’m sorry, Bee.

It’s fine, Cass. I’m not hurt. But are you all right? What happened?

Since she wasn’t sure of the answer, she ignored the question and turned to Thea instead.

The young girl simply stared at her through wisps of brown hair that hung limp over her weary brown eyes. Is something wrong?

I don’t know. Cass smoothed her long T-shirt over her leggings, then took a deep shaky breath and looked Thea straight in the eye. She had to know if the girl was lying. It was imperative she determine the truth, right here and now. You’re not planning to commit multiple homicides, are you?

Thea simply lifted a brow and studied her. It’s not currently on my to-do list. Why?

Cass shook her head. She needed a moment to think, to clear the vision from her mind, to focus on something else. Anything else. Okay.

Okay? Bee tilted his head, looked into her eyes, searching for something. That’s it?

What do you want me to say? She regretted snapping at him even as the words left her mouth, but how could she tell them, tell Thea, what she’d just seen?

Seriously, Cass? He propped his hands on his hips. You walked into your shop, gasped for air and basically plowed me over trying to flee, then asked your only employee, a skinny little slip of a thing who’s yet to see her twenty-fifth birthday, if she’s planning a mass murder, and all you can say is ‘okay’?

I don’t know what you want from me. Though she was pretty sure an explanation topped the list—an explanation she wasn’t quite ready to give, maybe one she didn’t even want to contemplate herself.

Oh, I don’t know, maybe a little less Debbie Downer and a little more ‘yippee-kai-ay I didn’t hire a killer’ for starters.

Yeah, well, you’re not going to be doing the happy dance either.

Oh? He leaned against the wall, folded his arms across his chest. And why’s that?

Because, despite everything we just discussed on our way here, it looks like we’re going to have to solve the mystery of who killed Ophelia Wilson’s brother and parents after all.

Chapter Two

Bee’s mouth dropped open, and he sputtered for a moment before he could manage to spit out a coherent question. Why in the world would we try to solve a murder allegedly committed by a woman who’s been dead for a century?

Good question.

Almost as soon as he uttered the words, he winced and his gaze shot to Thea. Sorry, hon, I don’t mean any offense.

None taken. I was actually wondering the same thing. She shrugged it off and turned to Cass. Why all of a sudden is it so important to find the answers?

Cass sighed, not because she didn’t want to answer either of them, but because she wasn’t sure it was safe to