skilled ghost-whisperers,” Isobel said, cutting her off. “The spirits here are tied to the home. Their attachment runs deep. It’s not all that surprising due to the magical nature of Premonition Pointe. What might work in other towns isn’t going to work here.”
That made sense. Premonition Pointe had been founded by witches, and magic was woven into the fabric of the town and the older buildings. The Victorian was one of the first homes to be built back around the turn of the twentieth century. She’d suspected all along that ultimately, she’d need to find the right buyer who could deal with the spirits. She’d just hoped there was an easier way. “Right. But what do I do when the house loves the wife, but not the husband?”
Isobel raised her hands in the air, palms up, indicating that she didn’t have the first clue. “That sounds like a marriage that might need therapy, not a new house.”
Grace couldn’t agree more. But instead of gossiping about the couple, she gave the woman an apologetic smile and asked, “Are you still free to look at the next house?”
“Of course.” She strode toward the front door, opened it, and stepped outside. As Grace joined her, she said, “Now that I’m all warmed up, it shouldn’t take nearly as long.”
Famous last words. So much for not taking very long. Grace sat on the back deck of the large white cottage and waited for Isobel to do whatever she was doing. They’d arrived forty-five minutes earlier, and so far Isobel hadn’t done anything other than sit at the top of the stairs and meditate.
Grace had given up on waiting and went outside to watch the waves churn gently against the sand. There weren’t as many people on the beach as she expected. Considering it was a summertime weekend, the shoreline should’ve been dotted with families playing in the water. She squinted down the shoreline and spotted a much larger crowd about two hundred yards away. Interesting. She knew there was a public access between the house and the crowd. She figured there must be an event going on that she didn’t know about that was keeping the tourists occupied.
As she watched, a family of five with two dogs headed toward her end of the shore, but when they got about two houses away, they suddenly turned around and headed straight back to the crowd.
A loud cackle came from the house directly next door. Grace turned to find a woman with long blond hair sitting in a lounge chair and holding a wine glass in one hand and a book in the other. Her wrinkled skin along with her pronounced veins gave away her age, but her wide-legged white slacks and red silk blouse were so stylish that she looked as if she’d just walked off the pages of a magazine.
“Hello there,” Grace said, getting the other woman’s attention.
The woman jerked up and spilled some of the wine from her glass as she let out a startled gasp. “Oh, my. I had no idea anyone was over there. The house has been empty for so long I just assumed I was alone.” She got to her feet and moved to the edge of the deck closest to Grace. “Are you the new owner?”
Grace shook her head. “I’m Grace Valentine, the Realtor.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Grace. I’m Lara.” She held up her glass of wine in a toasting motion. Then she gave Grace a pitying look. “I’m so sorry you’ve been stuck with that house. Don’t get me wrong; it really is fantastic. Under normal circumstances, it should’ve sold in a bidding war, but instead it just sits here sad and empty.”
“Normal circumstances?” Grace blinked at her. “Are you saying this house has unusual ones?” Obviously, Grace knew the answer to that question; she just wanted Lara’s take on the spirits that haunted the place.
Lara snorted. “Please. Everyone knows that house is haunted.”
“By Jenny Kort?” Grace asked. “The wife who died here? I heard speculation that she might have been murdered.”
“Jenny murdered? Goodness no. She had a rare blood disease of some sort. Toward the end she was really thin. That fueled all kinds of rumors, including drugs. Poor thing. After she died, her husband moved and her sister Emma moved in. Lovely woman, but she never had any children. If I had to guess, I’d say both are still here in some form. They each loved this property in their own way.”
“They loved it but