Dark, creaking trees. Cracking thunder. A
ghostly orb.
Barbara Milanowski couldn’t have picked a worse
night for her amateur paranormal investigation, but she couldn’t let her
longtime crush Elmer Derecho’s skeptism go unchallenged. When Elmer runs her off
the road with his motorcycle and scolds her for being out in the inclement
weather, her happily ever after drops with the barometric pressure and the loss
of her keys and glasses. While spending time alone with Elmer was one of her
fantasies, the dream date didn’t entail diving into the mud and untangling
herself from a raspberry bush.
While trying to
protect Barbara from the storm, Elmer’s eyes are opened to all the things in his
life that are missing. Elmer had gotten comfortable with his maps and pictures
and chasing tornadoes after the fact. But Barbara reminds him of his forgotten
zest for adventures, and ignites his interest in the Warden’s Lantern and for
Barbara.
While sheltering in a dilapidated guard house,
Barbara and Elmer are drawn out of the protection by the Warden’s Lantern, the
ghostly light Barbara had been trying to document. Elmer dismisses it as a trick
of the electrical storm, but together they attempt to find the true source of
the light. Will their shared talents solve the mystery and start a lasting
relationship?
Excerpt...
Barbara Milanowski
adjusted the motion setting on her camera and snapped another shot of the trail.
She wrapped the strap around her wrist and wandered a few yards along the
road—if it could be called that anymore. Weeds grew
up through the middle and crowded in from the sides. A gust of wind caught a
handful of leaves and tossed them in front of her. The trees swayed and creaked, sending chills down her spine.
It’s certainly
creepy out here. No wonder there were stories. But with the dim light and
building haze, she doubted she’d find anything useful tonight. She took off her glasses to clean them on the
bottom of her black turtleneck. The humidity clouded them up in minutes.
Surveying the woods, the shapes of brush and undergrowth blended into the
darkening sky.
Professional
investigators would have been better prepared. Tripods, extra batteries, voice
recorders, flashlights. The farther she traversed from her car the more items
she added to the list of things she should have taken. She’d headed into the
woods with only a camera and pepper spray on a dare. The fishy, seaweedy smell of Lake Michigan
wafted in the rising breeze, mixing with the damp mossiness of the trees.
Barbara stared down the trail where the path disappeared around a curve.
The legend claimed a
light would bob along the path shortly after twilight. When one approached it,
the light disappeared. Those who claimed to have “seen” it said it was the
lantern of a warden who disappeared searching for an escaped inmate. Neither he
nor the inmate had ever been found. Some said the inmate killed the warden and
buried him in the sand dunes. Others said the warden lost his way as a storm
came across the lake; disoriented by the wind and rain, he wandered into the
raging surf and drowned.
Ever since, the light had been called the Warden’s
Lantern and had yet to be documented by an official team of paranormal
investigators. She’d checked on the Internet at work this afternoon while her
co‑workers at the Storm Damage Evaluation Center
had been arguing about it. While they ventured into the field studying
storm damage, she remained at her computer under the watchful eye of the office
manager, paying the bills and balancing the checkbooks. Numbers and organization
were her expertise, but she itched to get away from her desk and see the
things they talked about.
Several in the office
had claimed to have seen it, but none had ever allowed the light to get close
enough to see what produced it. Most accounts on the Internet referenced wetting
themselves, then running like heck. Any actual historical facts were only
available in the archives of the library. She didn’t understand the fear. Her co-workers had faced flying cars and falling
trees as they chased tornadoes. A floating light was hardly Freddy Kreuger.
As always, Elmer
Derecho, the head meteorologist and engineer, claimed it was a natural
phenomenon, but to him everything was a weather event. Blizzards, hurricanes,
tornadoes, rain storms, cumulus clouds and clear skies. He was fascinated by it
all. She doubted he thought of anything else.
Barbara had told
herself that a lot lately. Specifically, every morning as she got dressed for
work. It didn’t matter whether she wore the pencil skirt that accentuated her
hips or the sweater that hugged her breasts, Elmer still wouldn’t notice
her.
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