Whispers in the Attic

By Cheryl Alsippi

Claire's Swenson's life at college is everything she expected and more: a new roommate, a boyfriend, a job, and now—a beautiful auburn-haired ghost on her front doorstep!

Despite growing up near the town of Salem, Massachusetts, Claire's only interest in the paranormal has been the supernatural qualities of the crystals sold in her grandmother's gift shop. She is now reluctantly drawn into the spectral world of the lovely spirit who seems to be seeking her help.

Claire's efforts to understand and lend aid to the troubled spirit, lead her to the coastal hometown of her ancestors and across unseen dimensions where she is reunited with her deceased great-grandparents and comes face-to-face with a malevolent shadow spirit who will stop at nothing to keep her from uncovering the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350911282

Book preview

Chapter 1

Could you step it up please, Otto? Claire coaxed. Maybe we can beat the rain.

Too late. It was turning out to be a very wet New England autumn, and the trees that lined the streets on her walking route began to release droplets of water, collections from the heavy morning mist. Claire pulled up the hood of her gray sweatshirt against the dampness and tucked her unruly strawberry-blonde hair behind her ears. She wished Otto could walk a little faster.

The two made an odd couple, her at 5’9" with long slender legs and boyish figure and the four-month-old miniature dachshund with stubby legs and a smooth brown coat. They had walked together every morning for the past two months, ever since she’d adopted him from the local shelter.

About half a block from her apartment building, Otto started to whine. When Claire turned the corner onto the sidewalk in front of her apartment building, his whining escalated into a high-pitched yowl. He started backing away, pulling so hard on his leash that Claire was afraid he might hurt himself. Picking him up, she warned gently, Don’t get used to this, boy.

It was then Claire noticed Otto eyeing a young woman who stood waiting by the entrance to the building. She wore a full-buttoned, belted dress that appeared somewhat old-fashioned, accessorized by clunky brown heels. Her wavy auburn hair and strikingly dark red lipstick struck Claire as being a bit retro as well. I wonder if she’s here to see someone in the building. Maybe she’s a new resident. She looks kind of lost, Claire thought.

Otto stopped whining abruptly when Claire set him back down on the sidewalk to dig deep into her pocket for the door key. Key in hand, she approached the building and noticed that the woman was no longer in sight. Where did she go? Claire wondered out loud, looking around somewhat puzzled. She could have at least held the door for us, eh kiddo?

Claire scooped up the puppy. When she entered the building, she noticed the sound of heels clicking on the stairs above. She bounded up the first flight, determined to catch up to the peculiar woman. She caught a glimpse of the stranger’s skirt rounding the corner just ahead of them, entering the hallway on the third and last level. She picked up her pace, more curious than ever now. She called out, Excuse me, ma’am, but heard nothing. Hurrying to the landing, Claire turned the corner and came face to face with her neighbor. Oh, sorry, Sheila. I’m in a hurry as usual. As she spoke, she peered around Sheila Gray, looking down the hall, and saw nobody. Can’t be late for classes. Could you tell Tommy that I won’t need him to walk Otto after school today? I’m getting out early and going home for the weekend.

Sheila smiled at Claire then reached down to pat Otto on the head. Her ten-year-old son Tommy would be disappointed. He loved walking Otto on the days Claire had late classes. Sure, I’ll tell him. He won’t know what to do with himself this weekend if Otto isn’t around.

Claire started toward her door then turned back. By the way, do we have a new tenant? The woman that came through just ahead of me. Red hair?

No, I just came from the other end of the hall and haven’t seen anyone. In fact, I heard you calling, but no, didn’t see anyone. You’re the only redhead I’ve seen today. No new tenants either. The apartments have been filled since you moved in.

That’s strange, I could have sworn I saw her come around the corner… She was right ahead of me. Oh well, gotta go or I’ll be late! Have a great weekend!

When Claire entered her small but cozy three-room apartment, she felt a definite chill in the air. It’s colder in here than outside, she grumbled. Otto seemed reluctant to follow her into the kitchen where she went to get them both a drink. She stepped onto the linoleum, slipping in a small puddle. Eww, Otto! When did you do that? You should know better, she scolded mildly.

Otto tilted his head and looked at her questioningly from the doorway. She didn’t get too upset with him. After all, he was still fairly new at this, and she figured maybe the chill in the air had gotten to him.

She cleaned up the puddle, turned up the heat, and went to get a shower before classes. Gathering her clothes, she was suddenly aware of the hair rising on the back of her neck and the feeling of eyes watching her. She glanced around the room, then forced herself to shake it off and get ready for class.

Standing in the shower, she took a few minutes to let the hot water remove the chill from her bones and thought about the changes in her life these past six months. She moved to Montmoth Falls, New Hampshire, the previous spring to get an apartment and a job as she prepared to enter Montmoth University. She wanted to start with summer classes to avoid the fall crowd. It had been difficult emotionally. Before that, she had lived her entire life with her grandmother, Connie, in Amesbury, Massachusetts. After Grandpa Nils died when Claire was nine, it was just her and Connie. Money was a little tight for Connie, so after high school Claire worked for a couple years to save money for college before leaving Amesbury.

Claire was majoring in psychology. After pondering her choice, Claire figured it must have something to do with her mother Sunny leaving her when she was just an infant. Even though she had always been happy with Connie, she realized that there would always be questions inside her about being left behind. Abandonment issues. Hmmm, isn’t it a little early in my training for self-diagnosing? Claire mused.

Claire put aside her thoughts about the past and dressed for class. Her shoulder-length hair was even curlier now from the dampness. She decided to pull the sides back and attach two clips in an attempt at some semblance of control.

Otto was fast asleep, looking like a tiny figurine on his oversized pillow. The chill in the room was gone now, so she turned the thermostat back down. After making sure he had water in his bowl, she headed off to classes.

When she entered the first class of the morning, she glanced at the tall, muscular, dark-haired man handing out papers. He had deep brown eyes, a chiseled jawline, and a smile that made her melt. He noticed her and winked, giving her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

She remembered all too well the embarrassing moment when they met. It was at the beginning of her summer term, on her first day in parapsychology, an elective involving paranormal and psychic abilities. She felt she most likely would never use it, but she needed the extra credits. When she entered the classroom that first day, he was there to greet everyone. Shaking his hand, she said, Hi, I’m Claire Swenson. I’m looking forward to your class. Not.

Hello Claire, Dean Chaney.

She felt embarrassed to have mistaken him as the professor and blurted out, Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were teaching this class. Did Dean McConroy leave? Did he quit? Is he coming back? She added under her breath, Could I stop asking questions anytime soon? She could feel her cheeks burning and stopped to take a deep breath.

His crooked smile and raised eyebrow rendered her weak in the knees. Yes, I was wondering the same thing. Let me start again. Hello, my name is Dean Chaney. I teach this class.

Claire simply replied, Hello, shook his hand, and slinked off to a desk in the back of the room. Ever since she was young, Claire had a tendency to be unable to control the words that came out of her mouth when she became embarrassed or excited. Unfortunately, that particular day had been no exception.

Her interest in the class and Dean had grown. She found the class interesting, in an odd sort of way, but her concentration often drifted to thoughts of him. She daydreamed about what it would be like to spend time with him off campus. One afternoon while they were exiting the classroom, Dean asked if she would like to meet for coffee later that day. Her face instantly became flushed and she chewed nervously on her top lip, but with great effort she managed to maintain her composure.

Sure, that would be good. She turned on her heel and started to walk away, pleased with herself that she hadn’t screwed that up. Almost immediately she stopped and turned back toward him with a sheepish grin. Where, when?

During their initial get-to-know-each-other date, Claire learned that Dean was twenty-eight years old and had spent several years abroad studying parapsychology in England. When she displayed a true interest, he explained a little further about the spiritual aspect of the course, which she found fascinating. Even more interesting to her was the fact that he was born and raised in her hometown.

Seriously, you’re from Amesbury? It’s hard to believe we never ran into each other. Then again, you are an old man, Claire had joked.

They dated regularly after that and she couldn’t believe her luck at having snatched up such a catch, as Connie would call him. He introduced her to all the local tourist attractions and the lesser-known secrets around town. They hiked often through the park trails accompanied by Otto, finding many smaller trails that were more private, stopping now and then to learn more about each other.

Today in class, she smiled and winked back at Dean as she took her seat beside her friend, January Small.

The last name described January—Jannie to her friends—very accurately. She was 4’11" and weighed 94 pounds. At first glance, one might get the wrong impression of her because of her many piercings and tattoos and her micro-short, jet-black hair that was spiked all over. Her family was from a small town near Salem, Massachusetts, but she moved to this area a few years before to live with her boyfriend Cam. She and Cam had the most adorable eleven-month-old baby boy, Max. Being the older of the two girls at twenty-four, January took Claire under her wing and they became instant friends after meeting during sign-up for the summer classes. She was a great comfort to Claire. By the way, her birthday was not in January, which she said everybody asked.

Claire and January side by side were almost as odd as Claire and Otto.

Today’s first class would be one of Claire’s minors: experimental parapsychology. This morning each student would be working with a partner performing psychometry by holding an object belonging to someone else to see if they could get a mental impression about the object or the person who owned it.

Claire brought in an old cameo brooch she had bought at the local antique store a week ago. She had visited the store several times and each time was drawn to the brooch. She didn’t know why it intrigued her so much, but she had to have it. Finally, she saved up enough money to make the purchase. The brooch was quite large—over two inches from top to bottom—with intricate bronze metalwork around the rim and mother of pearl inlay with a bronze silhouette in the center.

She and January sat facing each other. Dean instructed the class to take about fifteen minutes for a grounding meditation before starting the psychometry session. He also advised them to visualize a protective white light surrounding them during the process.

After the meditation, Claire took the brooch from her pocket and handed it over. Here you go, Jannie. Tell me something good. I want to know why I felt compelled to spend so much of my money on this when I really don’t have anything to wear it with.

Jannie clasped the brooch in her hand and closed her eyes. Claire watched excitedly for about two minutes until Jannie started to blurt out little bits of information: I get the feeling of being sad and happy all at once. This was a gift to someone, a gift I feel shouldn’t have been accepted.

Who’s it from? Claire asked.

I don’t know, but I do sense strong feelings surrounding it. Bittersweet feelings. Such sadness.

January continued to concentrate while holding the brooch out in front of her. She started sobbing lightly and Claire was immediately concerned. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?

No, Jannie replied. It’s just that there are such strong emotions connected—such love, happiness, and desolation all at the same time.

By this time, the whole class had stopped working and was watching. Dean approached and asked quietly if they wanted to stop the session.

I don’t. I’m just trying to sort out the information I’m receiving, Jannie told him, her eyes still closed. Now I’m getting the taste of salt water in my mouth. I can smell it, like a breeze at the ocean. Her classmates reflexively sniffed the air around them.

Do you know where it came from, the location? Claire asked hopefully.

Sorry. She opened her eyes. I’m not getting anything else, Claire. Maybe whoever owned it lived by the ocean. Maybe that’s where it was given to her.

Afterwards, Dean explained to the class that what Jannie had experienced was typical of a psychometric session. It was common to have a sense of emotions, smell, taste—anything the owner or previous owner experienced. Since the object focused on in this session was owned by someone that neither of them knew, it would most likely be impossible to know for sure if the thoughts and feelings Jannie received were accurate.

When the bell rang to end class, Claire turned to her friend. Jannie, I’m sorry. I didn’t even get a chance to hold the box that you brought in.

It’s okay, honest, Jannie told her. It was fun—except for the crying part. I’m sure my eyeliner is all messed up.

Well, you do kinda look like a raccoon, laughed Claire. Where did you learn to do that? Does it run in your family? Can everyone do it or do you like have a gypsy grandma or something? She took a breath. Please stop me…

No, Claire. No gypsies that I know of in my family. Jannie giggled. Seriously though, for as long as I can remember I could do this. So far as I can tell, it only works for me if the owner is dead.

Claire looked disappointed as she thought this over. That’s a little creepy. So I guess that means we won’t be able to find out if what you were feeling was true.

Maybe. You just never know. Maybe we will find out more next time, January reassured her. Oh, by the way, have fun on the ride to your gram’s with your friend, she teased, referring to Dean.

Brat! I’m sure I will. I’ll text you, she said, winking, at which point Jannie knew she wouldn’t hear anything about it until Monday. Certainly atypical of her age group, if there was anything Claire hated more than her computer, it was her phone! She used it almost exclusively to talk; even creating her contact list was a chore. Claire waved and headed off to get ready for the trip.

Chapter 2

That afternoon Dean was traveling home to Amesbury and had offered to take Claire along if she wanted to visit her grandmother. She eagerly agreed since she didn’t have to work the weekend. For the past few weeks she had been wanting to visit Connie, but money was tight this pay period. The cost for bus fare was more than she had set aside, particularly after the amount she spent at the antique store. Besides, the trip would be much easier traveling with Otto in a car and it wouldn’t take nearly as long as a bus ride.

She looked forward to spending more time with Dean. She was seriously ready to take this relationship up a notch. Sex was not the issue. That was great! She was ready to get to know him better on a deeper level. They already spent time together at