Grumbling, I swung my legs over the edge and clicked on the lamp by my bed. I stood and walked to the door, cracked it open, and listened. There was a cold draft in the hall. I stepped into the darkened hallway with Vi. I was about to head downstairs to see where the draft originated when a door banged shut. The cold air stopped abruptly and I realized that the slamming door was in the turret room.
Vi grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the turret stairs. “It came from up there.”
We started to climb the stairs and then a low moaning sound began and increased to a shrill shriek.
“It’s the ghost!” Vi said. Her bony fingers dug into my upper arm and she slipped behind me on the stairs but I felt her pushing me upward.
“It’s not a ghost,” I said. I gripped the banister tightly and willed myself to continue up the stairs.
“Then what’s that noise?”
“It must be the wind,” I told her and tried to sound brave and not at all freaked out.
We made it to the closed door at the top. The noise was coming from inside the turret room.
I looked at Vi, took a deep breath, and turned the knob.
The door didn’t swing easily open, but as soon as I pushed it a few inches, the noise stopped. Just as we were about to step into the room, the white cat rushed out just like the night before when we had found Clarissa.
“She’s really spooked about something,” Vi said as we watched her race down the steps.
Inside, the room was frigid. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and spun to confront it. White filmy curtains billowed in the wind. Both windows were fully open and snow blew in onto the carpet.
Vi and I rushed forward to slam the sashes shut.
“What’s going on?” Isabel said from the doorway.
We turned quickly to see Isabel and Jessica standing just inside the room.
“We heard noises up here and came to investigate,” Vi said.
“Someone opened the windows, and the wind shut the door and trapped the cat,” I said.
Isabel and Jessica exchanged a look and they both relaxed.
“Mavis is downstairs in a state of high anxiety,” Isabel said.
“She claims she saw a ghost,” Jessica said.
“Mavis saw the ghost?” Vi sounded disappointed that we had only found a cat.
“She pounded on my door a few minutes ago,” Isabel said. “I had her wait in my room with Selma while I went to find Jessica.”
“It was so cold in the hallway,” Jessica said. “I checked all the doors to be sure they were locked and closed and then, while we were reassuring Mavis that everything was fine, the cat streaked past the doorway and downstairs into the lounge.”
“Why was she wandering the halls in the middle of the night?” Vi demanded.
Isabel’s lips thinned. “She claims she heard a noise in the hall.”
“What did Mavis see?” I asked.
“It’s not clear,” said Isabel. “She thought she saw someone walking down the stairs wearing a white old-fashioned nightgown, but when Mavis called to the person she just kept walking and then seemed to disappear.”
“Let’s go down and talk to her,” I said.
Every door was open and the knitters were milling about talking to Mac when we arrived back in the hallway. He was in plaid drawstring pants and an old Michigan State T-shirt. His hair was rumpled and he didn’t look happy at being dragged from his bed for a ghost sighting. Lucille stood next to him in a deep green quilted satin dressing gown. Her spiky hair was a bit lopsided and she looked more fascinated than annoyed.
“Phillip, I think you should go down there and check things out,” Lucille said. “I’m sure we’d all sleep better knowing there isn’t a ghost roaming the halls.”
Mac ran his fingers through his hair, making it look almost as spiky as his mother’s.
“We’ll go with you,” Vi said as we approached.
Mac turned and I saw relief and annoyance flash across his face.
“There’s no ghost,” Mac said. “I don’t know how to prove the castle is safe from something that doesn’t exist.”
Vi gave him a pitying look.
“We can go downstairs and check for cold spots,” Vi said in a tone that should be reserved for kindergartners. “If there was a ghost, there will be cold spots.”
“I think the whole castle is a cold spot, Vi,” I said. “The window let in enough cold air for twenty ghosts.”
Vi sighed. “You’re probably right. It’s not like we’ll be able to tell the difference between regular cold and ghost cold now. Whoever opened the window was pretty clever.”
“Do you think the ghost opened the window?” Lucille asked.
Vi considered this and then shook her head. Mac and I exchanged a “how did we get here” look.
“I doubt the ghost would have messed with the windows,” Vi said. “It usually just walks the halls or looks out the window. Isn’t that right, Jessica?”
Jessica drew in a sharp breath at being pulled into the ghost discussion.
“I don’t know, Ms. Greer,” Jessica said. “I’m not a ghost expert.”
“Obviously,” Vi said. “But you know the stories about your ghost. Has it ever opened the windows before?”
Jessica shook her head, and took a step closer to Isabel.
“It’s too bad we can’t get some ghost hunters out here with the storm and all.” Vi stroked her chin in an exaggerated gesture of thinking.