Love, Like Ghosts: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations Story

nineteen-oh-five papers.
The moment he saw the few short paragraphs near the back of the November second morning edition, he knew he’d found the missing piece to his puzzle.
    November 2, 1905
CHAPEL HILL—According to a police report filed on the afternoon of November 1st, Sir Lionel Groome of Groome Castle was accused of murdering his nephew Lyndon during the Halloween festivities held at the Castle on Halloween night. Lyndon has been a guest at the castle since late spring and is currently attending the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill as an exchange student from Oxford University in England. The Groome family has social and financial connections with both universities and with the town of Chapel Hill going back to the late seventeen hundreds.
Anonymous sources inform this reporter that police have spoken to Sir Lionel but have found no evidence with which to charge him. Lyndon himself has not been seen since Halloween. Sir Lionel has filed a missing person’s report on his nephew and according to my sources appears most distraught. As for the man who accused Sir Lionel of murder, his name is listed on the police report as John Davis. However, many people around town say his name is actually Cassius Wellington. Furthermore, many whisper that Cassius Wellington and Lyndon Groome have been spotted about town in frequent and intimate company. This reporter has to wonder if perhaps friendship turned sour and Cassius Wellington, not Sir Lionel, is the one who knows Lyndon Groome’s fate.
Adrian leaned back in the chair, his heart racing. It was hardly definitive proof, but along with Lyndon’s memories it at least gave him a solid lead to follow.
God, his own uncle. How awful would that be?
Maybe it wasn’t true. Adrian hoped it wasn’t. Just because Cassius thought that’s what had happened didn’t mean he was right.
Unless he saw it. Maybe he was hiding somewhere nearby and witnessed Lionel Groome killing Lyndon. My God, what a horrible thing.
Adrian shuddered. There was no point in creating nightmare scenarios in his head, especially when he could attempt to extract the information directly from Lyndon’s memories the next time he went to the castle. With any luck, having this information would make connecting easier.
In the meantime, he needed to finish reading through the papers. There might be more clues, and he didn’t want his excitement over this one clue—huge though it may be—to make him miss anything else.
Picking up his iPhone, he thumbed it on and called up the notes function. He keyed in the pertinent information from the article, as well as its location on the microfilm spool, then went back to reading.
    As he’d suspected, Adrian found nothing else of interest in the nineteen-oh-five papers. The library closed before he was quite finished with the December editions, but by that time he’d already decided there wouldn’t be anything else mentioned. He found it puzzling, actually, that there could be an accusation of murder against one of the town’s prominent citizens with only one mention in a back page column bordering on gossip.
    Maybe the “financial connections to the town” bit had something to do with the lack of further coverage. Walking out into the cold, damp night air, Adrian resolved to ask around and find out what the chances were that an influential man like Lionel Groome might have paid off someone at the paper to keep his name out of the headlines.
    With his brain busy laying plans for visiting Lyndon and reading further in the Chapel Hill newspapers—maybe finding out what had become of Cassius—the walk to his apartment passed quickly. He punched in the entry code, swung open the front door and climbed the stairs to the second floor. When he reached the top of the steps he stopped and stared, shocked.
    Greg sat on the floor outside Adrian’s apartment. He stood as Adrian approached. “Hi, Adrian.” His voice sounded rough and hoarse, and Adrian wondered if he was sick.
“Greg.” Adrian clutched the stair rail, his heart thudding so hard it left him breathless. “How’d you get in?”
“Lori let me in when she came home.” Greg gestured at the door across the hall, where Adrian’s neighbor Lori Young lived. “I’m sorry, I know I didn’t have any right to bust in like this, especially after I broke things off with you, but…” His gaze fixed on Adrian’s face, Greg moved closer. “Something happened today, and I just had to see you. I