With both Joe and Frank in classes today, Matt was essentially on his own. He had spent a pleasant morning at the Hardys’ home; he’d enjoyed sleeping late, and Mrs. Hardy had fixed him waffles when he finally wandered downstairs at nine-twenty. He’d felt a little embarrassed, but she’d just laughed and said she was glad he’d been able to sleep, and did he like strawberry jam on waffles or would he prefer syrup?

After breakfast, though, Matt had decided to do something constructive. A little more scouting around at the lighthouse couldn’t do any harm, he reasoned, and he could take pictures to his heart’s content. Never can tell when some shot might be just The One that some publisher will pay big bucks for, to use in an article or advertisement, or something! And even without Frank or Joe around, why couldn’t he poke around on his own? So Matt had loaded his equipment into his pickup and set out for Stone Point, happy to be out in the pale, fitful November sunshine.

Because anything was better than sitting around brooding about Macey and how much he missed her. Oh, how he missed her! He’d missed her since the day she’d left for London, and he still missed her just as much now, three months later. He pictured her in his mind – the short-cropped dark hair and dancing blue eyes, the exotic dangly earrings she loved to wear and the ever-present snap of the bubble gum she chewed whenever she wasn’t singing…or asleep.

"I don’t think I can make it another four months until she comes home!" he whispered forlornly to himself. It wasn’t that he begrudged her this marvelous experience and the boost to her career – not at all! But…he missed her!

Stop it, Eckersley, he warned himself. You’re pouting again!

"All right," he said aloud. "Get your mind on the job, Matt." He gazed thoughtfully at the tall, picturesque lighthouse and its adjoining keeper’s cottage. He’d never taken pictures of a lighthouse before – none of his job assignments had happened to include lighthouses. Well, even if he wasn’t getting paid for this gig, Matt suspected he could probably sell some of the photos to several different magazines, if he put the pictures together in an attractive enough package. His career was definitely moving upward, and the name Matt Eckersley was starting to get a little recognition. Not bad, that.

Keeping these possibilities in mind, Matt snapped several more shots, this time getting in more background; including more of the rocks in the distance. Then he prowled again, looking more closely at the terrain close at hand. He found some autumn flowers still in bloom in a protected spot, and hunkered down, switching lenses for some close-ups. Continuing his explorations, he discovered a maple tree which had inexplicably retained most of its leaves, and he spent several minutes capturing the wild array of colors on film.

Happy with his findings, Matt wandered slowly back towards the lighthouse once more, still taking pictures along the way. He gazed out at the sea, watching the water shift colors as the light played across the waves. He once again started taking shot after shot as the beautiful blue went to sapphire here, gray there, green in still another area.

The sight was mesmerizing for a young man who loved art – and Matt loved art. He’d found himself taking pictures at an early age, from the time he’d first gotten a simple little point-and-shoot camera. He’d taken classes in school, learning everything he could about it, from shot composition to the complicated workings of his cameras. Now, he loved being able to take pictures for the fun of it – as well as for his job. Being a free-lance photographer was fun, no question about that, and it certainly made for an interesting career! Some day, perhaps, he might be able to do something really exciting, like a shoot in the jungles of Africa – or the aboriginal tribes of Australia!

Or maybe a forensic photographer…. Matt grinned a little, thinking about that, then made a face. No, taking pictures of dead bodies didn’t sound like all that much fun, after all. No way did he want to get attached to the idea of photographing dead bodies! Crime scenes might be fun – well, fun in a sort of grim way…. He smiled reminiscently, thinking of how Frank had taken pictures of the fingerprints when they were looking for whoever had stolen Alli’s violin. He’d considered offering his services as a photographer then – but had been too shy. He wasn’t exactly sure what might have been needed, and didn’t want to sound stupid….Crime scenes might be okay, if it only entailed figuring out the exact layout of a crime with his pictures. But dead bodies? No, no thanks, dude! I’ll pass! Seeing the bones in the fireplace had been enough for Mrs. Eckersley’s little boy – Matt was glad he hadn’t had to actually see any bodies!

Deciding that he’d like a few more interior shots, Matt made his way over to the keeper’s cottage and knocked lightly on the door, hoping to locate Mr. Carter, the caretaker. He’d parked his pickup near the man’s car, so he was fairly sure Carter was around, but hadn’t seen him; hadn’t wanted to disturb him. After a few moments, the door was opened by Mr. Carter, who nodded a welcome, recognizing Matt from his prior visit.

"Hey, Mr. Carter. Would it be okay if I took some more snapshots of the inside of the cottage?" Matt smiled ingratiatingly.

"Sure, come on in." The caretaker swung the door wider to admit Matt and his equipment. "I’m doing some work in one of the back rooms, repairing an old chair."

"You do a lot of that?" Matt inquired.

"I sure do. I’ve done carpentry work before, and it cuts down on the costs when I do the work. And it helps to pass the time."

"Well, I’ll try to stay out of your hair," Matt grinned. "Unless you’d like to be in the pictures, of course—"

Mr. Carter chuckled a little. "No thanks, I’ll pass." He shrugged. "I’ll get back to my work," he added, and moved off.

Left to his own devices, Matt wandered about the house, taking multiple shots of each room from different angles, so that Vanessa and Joe would have plenty of options to choose from. When he reached the back room where the skeleton had been found, he saw that the fireplace had been completely decimated. Whew, Cherise is not going to be happy about that! What a mess! Gingerly, Matt stepped over the remaining rubble and took a few close shots. Hope the police don’t mind me taking pictures of a crime scene – I don’t feel all that much like getting arrested!

A sound from outside caught the young man’s attention, and Matt pulled himself from contemplation of the fireplace to go investigate the source. He went to the door of the cottage, expecting to find Cherise, perhaps, or one of the police officers, or even Mr. Carter – but when he opened the door, he was surprised to see…nothing!

Matt frowned and looked around in confusion. I could have sworn I heard an engine! Thoughtfully, he wandered out of the cottage and toward the road, hoping to see something or someone. Maybe I just imagined I heard an engine…. No! Maybe I’m hearing ghost engines, like Frank is seeing ghost girls. A laugh bubbled up. Wouldn’t that just be the topper to this whole trip? Frank gets a cute girl ghost and I get engine sounds! Just totally swell, man!

Still chuckling, Matt swung about to look toward the ocean, again enjoying the view. The laughter died, and he frowned, narrowing his eyes, seeing something he hadn’t expected. The boat – the boat he and Frank had seen only the day before. It was there again, only this time, much closer. Reacting instinctively, Matt pushed himself flat against the wall of the cottage, and then cautiously leaned to peer around the curve of the lighthouse. He could see a man standing in the bow, staring at the lighthouse through binoculars and occasionally writing something on a pad of paper.

Matt slid back into the keeper’s cottage, moving carefully. He suddenly was feeling nervous. He went up the stairs and to one of the rooms which had a window overlooking the ocean. He could see the boat from here, and he pulled out his camera yet again, zooming in and taking several shots. I hope those guys can’t see through the windows – can’t see me! Matt shivered a little. He was getting a very uneasy feeling about being out here on his own, with the lighthouse being watched by – by who? – and not knowing if there were…accomplices out there somewhere!

Hmmm. Maybe I should go check that out. What if someone else is watching? WHY was the place being watched, anyway? Matt sighed in frustration and stopped taking pictures for the moment.

The ringing of his cell phone nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he fumbled for it in his pocket. But then…

"Macey!" Matt could feel his whole face light up with his smile. "Hey babe, how’ve you been? I’ve missed you so much!" he bubbled. "How’s it going, babycakes?"

His girlfriend’s sigh wafted as clearly through the phone connection as if they were only separated by a few miles instead of the width of the cold Atlantic Ocean. "Not so hot, actually. I’ve picked up some sort of a bug…and I really miss you, stud. I kinda wish I hadn’t agreed to stay in London until March."

"Baby, no way, you know you love it! You do still love it – don’t you?"

"Oh, I love the show – the music. And it’s exciting to sing in front of packed crowds night after night, sure," Macey admitted, "but…I miss…home. It’s all so – different – here. And I miss…seeing you every day, Matt. And just…everything about home." A very small, subdued sniffle punctuated the words. "And it’s almost Thanksgiving. They don’t celebrate that here the way we do. And then Christmas…." Another tiny sniffle.

"Aw, Macey. Honey. I’m sorry you’re homesick. I wish I could be there, baby – hold you, make everything better for you. Take care of you when you’re not feeling good."

"I know you do, stud." He could hear the smile in her voice. "I’ll be okay – talking to you helps a lot, ya know? I’m keeping a countdown of the days until I get to come home. No freakin’ way am I letting them extend my contract again! It’s 122 days. That’s all!"

Matt smiled. "I know how long it is, babycakes. I started counting the day you left." He looked at his watch and mentally calculated the time in London. "Are you singing tonight? Or are you staying home and taking care of yourself?"

"Chandler, huh?" Matt grinned. He knew who Chandler was – the teddy bear he’d given Macey for her birthday right after they met. Wherever Macey went, Chandler went, too.

"—and missing you," Macey finished up. "Where are you, anyway? I tried calling you at home, and Phil said to try your cell phone, and that you were out of town. Photo shoot?"

"Nope – well, yeah, but not a paid gig. I’m in Bayport, staying with Frank and Joe Hardy. Sort of helping Joe and his girlfriend with a project, and that includes photography – but it’s gotten kinda complicated. I sort of fell off a cliff – and Frank and I were nearly swamped in his boat, yesterday. Then, there seems to be a ghost – and a skeleton they found inside a fireplace – and weird people watching the lighthouse all the time—"

"Matt! You fell off a CLIFF?? A ghost?" Macey sounded both awed and highly perturbed. "That sounds spooky – and people watching the lighthouse sounds more spooky! Now, you listen here, stud—" she ordered, in mock threat, "—you take very good care of yourself…or ELSE!"

"I promise, I promise, babe. I’ll keep a good distance away from cliff ledges, boats, bad guys, and ghosts. That suit you?"

"You’d better." Macey sighed. "I’ve got to go; this is expensive. I love you, stud…write to me, huh? Airmail. Send me some pictures. Have Frank or Joe take some of you and send them to me, okay? Bye for now."

"I will, honey. I love you too – get better. Goodbye."

Matt heard the soft click as Macey ended the call. He held his cell phone against his face for a moment, as if he could keep her there…just a few moments longer.

Looking out the window again, Matt saw the boat still sitting there, and he lifted his camera back into position to take a few more shots – and then he stopped, completely startled. "What the…?"

A girl stood on the cliff side, staring out over the ocean, her arms crossed. She appeared wispy and frail, and her clothing looked filmy and not in the least appropriate for the cool November weather.

Where’d she come from? Matt, acting instinctively, raised the camera and focused. He began to snap pictures, one after another, as the strange girl turned around and faced the cottage. She looked up at him for a moment, and smiled….

And disappeared.