fear—had faded and she was feeling a different kind of paranoia. She felt played. She had the unmistakable feeling of being set up. And not by any paranormal entity.
Last night she had been almost desperate to get out of the house. She had almost had herself convinced that there was something supernatural in the house … some amorphous evil. And yes, she could go—her suitcase was packed, she could be in the car in five minutes. But now she was angry. Now she had the cold and implacable desire to know what was going on.
She reached the small upstairs servants’ kitchen, started the coffeepot, and sat at the table, forcing herself to slow down, to go over everything.
There was a human element to this—a human trickery. She knew it. But what had changed, since yesterday, since her frantic, nebulous panic to get out?
The knocking and crashing of the night before … again, so suspiciously like the reports she had read.
And Tyler was a sound technician. How hard would it be to fake?
And there was a man in my room last night.
That was it most of all. The presence in her room—the man with the clipboard. As bizarre as it seemed, she could not believe that was a dream. The house was being monitored. So, who? Brendan? Tyler? Pastor Wallace, haunting the house in his own way?
And who was visiting Victoria Enright, forty-two years after the fact?
No, there was definitely someone human out there, with a very human interest in the house.
And Laurel was angry. She was furious. She was being manipulated again, cheated, just like with Matt. She could feel the heat of rage burning through her, energizing her. And this time she had no desire to run. She wanted to know.
She held her coffee cup in her hands, and was resolved. From now on, she was watching them.
CHAPTER FIFTY
When Laurel stepped back into the great room she found Brendan and both students were in their chairs in the center of the room again. The pool of water was back, exactly in the same spot, and the three were back seated in a circle around it, each holding a clipboard poised in their lap, just watching the pool.
“It started again fifteen minutes ago,” Brendan said to Laurel, without taking his eyes from the pool. “EMF levels are back up between nine and ten.”
Tyler spoke, also without looking away from the pool. “We’re wondering if it’s going to go through the same cycle again: the pool, the pounding, the rocks.”
“But it’s speeding up,” Brendan added. “The pool is growing at one-third again the rate it was yesterday. If it continues at this rate it should be complete in half an hour instead of forty minutes.”
Laurel looked around at them. They all were entirely mesmerized by the pool. That can’t be a setup, can it? They really believe this—whatever this is—is happening.
But before she could speak, she felt the tingling behind her ears, and a sudden jolt of adrenaline ran through her. The hair on her arms was standing up … and she had no idea why. She looked around the room in confusion. Fog drifted against the windowpanes …
At first Laurel wasn’t sure if she even heard it, it was so on the periphery of her consciousness. She saw Brendan frown slightly, no more reaction than that, as if he had a headache. What is that?
Then Katrina stood, dropping her clipboard to the floor with a clatter that made Laurel jump. “Don’t you hear that?” The girl demanded. And as if saying it made it so, the knocking was suddenly unmistakable, loud slow thumps, coming from the middle of the house, Laurel thought, the crooked corridor above the dining room and great room.
The thumps continued, building in volume, shaking the ceiling. Brendan was frozen in his chair, listening intently. Then he and Tyler both shot to their feet and were out the door, running through the dining room. Katrina was not far behind, but far enough to be delicate about her haste. Laurel could hear their footsteps pounding in the kitchen, up the progressive stairs and rooms and jogs.
Laurel stood in the center of the great room, her mind shouting Go at her … and she didn’t know if that meant after them or out the door or what.
Then inevitably she followed, running.
Upstairs they were all stopped in the hall outside the room, Brendan’s room.
Of course, of course … that room …
The three were very still, hovering in the hall, listening