Ghostly Asylum Page 5

  “Okay, but … .”

  “No buts.” Jared pressed his finger to Harper’s lips to quiet her. “There’s no reason to get worked up … at least not until tomorrow morning when we step into the belly of the beast. Until then, we can enjoy ourselves.

  “Come on,” he continued. “Zander is cooking steak over a campfire, I’m going to give you a romantic massage, and we’re in a tent so when I make a move after dark everyone is going to hear us and think I’m the ultimate stud. What’s not to love?”

  Harper was reluctant to let it go, but she didn’t have a lot of options so she did just that. “I’m kind of curious about the steak myself.”

  “I’m just glad we brought cookies in case it’s a disaster.”

  Harper’s smile faded. “Do you really want to go back to the cookies?”

  “Only if it means I can grovel some more.”

  “I’m always open to that.”

  5

  Five

  “I’m officially in love with you.”

  Harper pressed her lips together to keep from laughing when she realized Jared was talking to Zander while collecting paper plates in a garbage bag after dinner. He’d spent the entire meal “oohing” and “aahing” over the food, making small yummy noises that tickled Harper and caused Zander to preen. She loved it when the two most important men in her life got along.

  “Aw, you’re sweet.” Zander patted Jared’s cheek before sliding his empty plate in the bag. “I’m spoken for, though.”

  “He is,” Shawn agreed, although his eyes lit with mirth. “I understand the love, though. That was a terrific meal, Zander.”

  “It was,” Harper agreed, her eyes narrowing when Jared didn’t move to return to her. “And I’m starting to feel neglected,” she added pointedly.

  “Sorry.” Jared shook his head, giving the campground a once over before handing the bag to John. “You’re going to want to make sure that’s put somewhere scavengers can’t get to it.”

  John arched an eyebrow as he accepted the bag. “Do you think the island has bears or something? Perhaps it will be like Lost.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t rats,” Jared replied, maintaining a thin veneer of calm. “Do you want to wake up to rats in our camp?”

  “I certainly don’t,” Zander said, grinning when Jared shot him an appreciative look.

  Jared returned his weighted gaze to John and held it there for several beats. “I’m not going to be happy if we’re invaded by rats.”

  “Are you ever happy?” John challenged. “From what I can tell, nothing, but the blonde makes you happy.”

  The observation didn’t bother Jared in the least. “She’s what makes me happiest. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy with the fact that Zander just cooked a gourmet steak over a campfire, though.”

  “Okay, okay.” Michael clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. He was a smart man and he hadn’t missed the underlying tension spilling out between the two groups all afternoon. “I thought we would spend some time going over the history of the asylum tonight – make sure everyone is prepared for what might be inside – and then go to bed early.”

  Jared spared one more dark look for John before returning to Harper, positioning himself so he sat behind her – Harper protected with her back against his chest and a shared blanket spread over them as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder – and got comfortable next to the fire.

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Harper shifted, nervous. “I’m guessing most everyone doesn’t know the history of this place.”

  “I looked it up after Zander mentioned going,” Shawn volunteered. “It sounds as if a lot of bad things happened out here.”

  “That seems to be the general consensus,” Harper agreed.

  “We did a lot of research on the place when we were kids,” Zander explained. “Harper really wanted to come see it, but Uncle Mel wouldn’t loan us his boat … or bring us here himself. He said it was a bad idea.”

  Since Mel Kelsey also happened to be his partner, Jared snickered as he snuggled closer to Harper. Even though it was terribly cold, their camping spot on the beach offered little shelter other than the tents and Jared worried Harper would come down with a chill. “That sounds just like him. Why didn’t you take your dad’s boat, Heart?”

  Harper shrugged. “He didn’t think it was a good idea either and strictly forbade us to come out here.”

  “Yes, and you always do what your father wants.”

  “Even then I knew it was probably a bad idea to come out here,” Harper said, her eyes flicking to the asylum’s ominous façade. It was dark enough that the building appeared to loom into the sky, a monstrous shadow stalking them before sleep. “I was curious and afraid, if that makes sense.”

  “But you could see ghosts then, right?” Steve asked, his expression neutral.

  “I could.”

  “And how long have you been able to see ghosts?” Steve was either curious or trying to gather information to give himself a good laugh once he was away from everyone for the night. Jared couldn’t decide which. He definitely didn’t like the man’s attitude, though.

  “Since I was a kid,” Harper replied. She’d been expecting questions. Now was hardly the time to run from them. “My grandfather came to say goodbye to me the night he died. I was a child at the time. I didn’t understand what he was saying, until my parents came into my bedroom and told me that he’d passed away during the night.”

  “Oh, wow,” Lucy enthused, leaning forward. “Did he tell you any secrets? Maybe … did he tell you where he buried some money?”

  Harper wrinkled her nose. “My grandfather wasn’t big on hiding money.”

  “So what did he tell you?” Finn asked, legitimately curious. “He must’ve had something on his mind.”

  “He did.” Harper bobbed her head. “He told me he loved me.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of … a letdown.” Trey made a face. “That’s not much of a ghost story.”

  “I happen to like it,” Jared gritted out. It took everything he had not to hop over the fire and smash his fist into Trey’s face. “If you don’t like it, you could do the polite thing and shut your hole.”

  Zander chuckled, the sound filling the night air with a sense of ease that wasn’t present only seconds before. “You might want to be careful there, Trey,” he warned. “We’re all loyal to Harper. We know what she can do. It’s best not to underestimate her.”

  “Did I say I was underestimating her?” Trey challenged.

  “No, but Jared has a keen nose for uncovering these things and his sense of humor tends to fly out the window when people attack Harper,” Zander replied. “For the record, my sense of humor doesn’t last long under those circumstances either.”

  Trey wasn’t about to back down. “Is that supposed to frighten me? Are you guys going to beat me up?”

  “No, but I will cut you off from our food supply.” Zander was pragmatic at the oddest of times. “If you want to keep it up, I’ll cook for our group and you can eat … what is it? Hot dogs and potato chips, I believe you said. You can eat that with your people.”

  “Hey, I don’t want to be cut off from the food,” Finn protested.

  “Then tell your friend to shut his mouth,” Jared snapped.

  “Yes, because if one of you is rude to Harper, then I’m going to assume that all of you feel the same way.” Zander’s smile was serene, but there was a gleam in his eyes. He was angry and refused to hide it. “Tomorrow we’re having omelets and hash browns for breakfast. I believe Michael brought cold Pop-Tarts for you.”

  Finn’s mouth dropped open, abject horror flashing across his face. “That’s just mean.”

  “That’s how I roll.”

  Michael cleared his throat in an effort to get back on track. “I believe we can all agree that getting along is our top priority.”

  “I thought our top priority was seeing ghosts?”
Finn challenged, doing his best to focus everyone’s attention in Michael’s direction. The only two who didn’t follow his lead were Trey and Jared, who openly glared at one another across the fire.

  “That, too,” Michael conceded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “As for the asylum itself, how much of the history are you familiar with, Harper?”

  Harper linked her fingers with Jared’s under the blanket and forced herself to remain calm. “I’ve kept up on all of the asylum’s history.”

  “Why don’t you share a bit of it with us?” Michael suggested.

  “Okay, well … .” Harper broke off, licking her lips. She was nervous about being the center of attention given the makeup of the group, but she refused to back down from a challenge.

  “It’s okay, Heart.” Jared kissed her cheek. “I want to hear all about it, too.”

  “John Jacob Bennett was a doctor at one of the big Detroit hospitals in the 1940s,” Harper started, internally thankful Jared insisted on sharing his warmth with her for story hour. “He was young then and he had an interest in mental health treatment.

  “You have to remember that mental health treatment back then isn’t what it is now,” she continued. “Now we tend to use drugs more than anything else. Then they used, well, I’m not sure torture is the politically correct term, but it’s certainly apt. A lot of the treatments back then – lobotomies, insulin-induced comas, electroshock therapy, and even malaria – aren’t things we would consider allowing today.”

  “Malaria?” Trey sat in the spot next to Steve, interested despite himself. “How did that work?”

  “They basically introduced inoculated malaria into a person’s bloodstream and thought the malaria-induced fever would knock the crazy out of people,” Harper explained.

  “You have got to be kidding.” Finn made a face. “That sounds … barbaric.”

  “We’ve made huge advancements in mental health treatment over the course of the past sixty years, but these things take time,” Harper explained. “In the 1950s, there was a push to stop putting people in asylums and sanitariums as a way of treatment but before then … well … there was very little oversight.”

  “You mentioned that the other night,” Jared said, shifting so he could rest his back against his pack and keep both of them comfortable. “The way you phrased it made me believe that no one ever came out here to check and see what was being done with the patients.”

  “Right. I’m getting ahead of myself.” Harper shook her head as she tried to remember where she was in the story. “So John Jacob Bennett came from a rich family. His grandfather was a surgeon. So was his father. Back then that was a lucrative profession and the family owned one of those big mansions in Grosse Pointe.

  “Bennett wasn’t as skilled as his father and grandfather and couldn’t pass the surgical boards so he made mental health his focus,” she continued. “He wanted to open a sanitarium on Belle Isle but was turned down. The city officials didn’t think that was a good idea.

  “Bennett got his chance in the 1930s when a local woman apparently lost it and killed her four children and husband.” Harper was lost in her story. “The woman was clearly delusional, ranting and raving about voices telling her to do it. She didn’t believe her family was dead and thought the police were keeping them from her. She clearly wasn’t fit to stand trial, so there was a public debate about what to do with her.”

  “And that’s when Bennett stepped in?” Jared prodded.

  “Basically, yes. Bennett suggested a lockdown facility and residents weren’t happy with the idea of an institution like that being housed in a residential neighborhood. He suggested an island and … voila. They found this island.”

  “Who funded the institution?” Trey asked. “This place had to have cost money.”

  “It certainly did,” Harper confirmed. “It wasn’t an easy sell. Ultimately, in exchange for making him the chief, the Bennett family funded construction and arranged to provide for transportation. Patients were only ferried in once a week, the same as supplies, and otherwise it was run without much interference.”

  “It was a state hospital, though, right?” Eric asked.

  “It was, and technically it fell under state regulations and oversight, but given the location, it’s my understanding that no one ever bothered to check on the institution because the logistics associated with conducting spot inspections were simply too difficult.”

  “That was convenient for Bennett, huh?” Lucy stretched out her long legs, giving the men around the campfire an enticing view. “He could do whatever he wanted.”

  “There’s not a lot known about the inner workings of the asylum during his tenure,” Harper explained. “The files were listed as ‘incomplete’ when the state came in and took over operations.”

  “You said a lot of the patients were never accounted for,” Jared prodded. “You also said no bodies were discovered on the island. It’s too small for them to have been burying a bunch of bodies out here without anyone noticing.”

  “Yeah, but they had a crematorium for at least some of that time,” Zander volunteered.

  Harper stilled, her eyes locking with Zander’s. “Holy crap. I forgot all about that.”

  “I don’t remember seeing mention of a crematorium,” Michael said, reaching for the stack of files he always carried. “Wouldn’t that be on the building plans?”

  “They had a crematorium,” Harper supplied. “I forgot about it until Zander mentioned it, but it was at the back of the building. I saw the spot where the stack used to be when Jared and I were walking. I don’t think my mind put that together until Zander reminded me of that story.”

  “You saw a fallen smokestack?” Jared tilted his head down. “I didn’t see that.”

  “The big stack of bricks on the back of the building. That used to be the crematorium stack. I believe the actual crematorium was in the basement and the stack came through the ground and vented on that side.”

  “How do you know the crematorium was real?” Jared asked.

  “I saw photos and it was in some of the library files I read when I was a kid,” Harper replied. “It was real. That was mentioned – very briefly, mind you – in some of the older news stories about the asylum when it was shut down. They never overtly said that bodies were burned on the premises to cover up misdeeds, but if you read between the lines I think it was clear that law enforcement officials believed that even if they could never prove it.”

  “That would make sense,” Michael mused. “I’ve read a lot of the files and the police were convinced that Bennett was killing patients. They simply didn’t know if it was through malpractice or on purpose.”

  “It could’ve been a mixture of both,” Harper said. “No matter what, when we go inside that building tomorrow, there are bound to be a lot of displaced spirits running around. Because of the island’s isolation factor, that means they could be more active than normal.”

  Lucy leaned forward, her interest piqued. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I expect a lot of activity tomorrow,” Harper replied. “I think the asylum was a very unhappy place and when terrible things happen in one location – like this one – then it leaves a mark.”

  “Ghosts?” Trey’s lips quirked.

  Harper didn’t hesitate when answering. “Most definitely.”

  “Will you talk to them?”

  “I guess we’ll have to see.” Harper moved to stand, Jared helping her. “I’m really tired so I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Jared called out, his eyes keen as he watched her go. He waited until he was sure she was out of earshot before speaking again. “I’ve about had it with the snide remarks.”

  Michael balked. “I’ve been nothing but respectful.”

  “You’ve been something else entirely,” Jared countered. “That’s not the point.” He planted his gaze on Trey. “If you keep going after her, I’m goi
ng to go after you.”

  “And he’s a police officer so he can make it hurt,” Zander added.

  “I can,” Jared agreed. “I’m only going to put up with so much.”

  “What about your girlfriend?” Trey asked. “How much is she going to put up with?”

  “If you push me, you’ll find out.” Jared stared down Trey for a long beat before shaking his head. “I’m going to bed. Try to keep it down if you’re going to stay up.”

  “I’m going to make s’mores and tell ghost stories,” Zander said. “Finn actually spent a couple of years growing up on the west side of the city and we’re going to compare notes because he can’t really remember a lot about his time here. Wait … Harper didn’t get her s’more.”

  “Bring her one as a surprise,” Jared suggested, smiling. “I think she’ll like it.”

  “Aren’t you guys going to be doing the dirty?” Zander queried. “There’s no door for me to knock on.”

  “I’ll wait until you deliver the s’more.”

  “Okay.” Zander’s smile was bright. “Take care of our girl. She looks … tired.”

  “She does,” Jared agreed, worry niggling the back of his brain. “We’re going to take care of her together.”

  “Does that mean you want me to sleep with you guys?”

  Jared scowled. “For the record, I never want that.”

  “I promise not to make fun of your big nipples.”

  Jared’s expression turned sour. “Even when I like you there are times I want to punch you. I’m not sure how you manage it.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Maybe you should return it.”

  6

  Six

  Harper’s sleep was restless, her mind littered with a myriad of terrible images. She was certain her subconscious created the issues rather than her abilities suddenly expanding so she could see the past, but she remained unsettled when Zander pressed a mug of coffee into her hand by the campfire the next morning.