The Haunting of Ripewood Manor

by Clara Cody

  "Twenty-five a night."

  Her stomach sank. That would be more than a third of the money she had. "Is there a Mr. Theodore Bixley staying here? He is a friend of mine."

  The man lowered the corner of his paper and looked her up and down.

  She couldn't help but cringe at the way his eyes lingered. She cleared her throat loudly.

  "We don't give that sort of information out to just anyone." He gave a greasy smirk.

  She recalled that when they were looking for Rebecca's room, Theodore had offered money in exchange for information. It was a different hotel and a different town even, but men were the same everywhere. She dug out her purse. "I have a piece for any information you'd be willing to offer."

  "Five."

  She sniffed. Charles had paid half of that. "I don't have that much." Not to spare, at least.

  His eyes shifted towards the empty restaurant and back to her. "Perhaps you have something else to trade?"

  Stephanie clenched her jaw, drawing her shoulders back. "I do not. And I believe, with that, our dealings are finished." She picked up her skirts and spun away, walking out the door. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking after another motel.

  "Suit yourself," he grumbled.

  In the street, in front of the motel, a woman hurried by, her shawl pulled tightly around her face. Stephanie waved at her, shouting for her attention. "Pardon me, ma'am."

  "Oh, you startled me! Well, what is it?"

  "Is there another motel in the town or a boarding house?"

  "Lamplighter's outta your price range, is it?" The woman chuckled. "Yeah, there's another one. But there's a reason it's cheaper. You sure you want to stay there?"

  Stephanie glanced back at the Lamplighter Hotel. "I'm sure."

  "Come on, then. It's on the way to my house. I'd be glad for the company."

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  "Enough with that ma'am business. You can call me Gerdy. What are ya doing in Stonebridge this time a night, anyway?"

  "Just a run of bad luck, I suppose."

  "Is there any other kind of luck? Where you coming from?"

  Stephanie chewed her lip. She'd been so concerned with getting out of town that she hadn't considered thinking up a good story. "The city." She hoped that would suffice.

  Apparently, it did. "How long you in town for?"

  "I leave first thing in the morning."

  "Where you going?"

  Stephanie was starting to grow anxious with all the questions. They were benign but she couldn't help but closely examine each response before giving it. "Is the motel far?"

  "Nah, just there." She pointed to a small, one-story, ramshackle building. The light coming from the large window was bright. Men and women crowded the front room, swaying and laughing amongst each other. "Not the safest place for a young girl like you, but it's cheap."

  Stephanie swallowed hard. Fast, cheerful music floated on the air as they approached. Stephanie gave Gerdy a concerned look.

  "Imagine living next to a place like that! It's a wonder I get any sleep at all."

  Stephanie nodded, eyeing the building warily. She stopped when they reached the front of the motel.

  Gerdy didn't even break her stride. "Good luck to ya," she called, waving behind her.

  "Thank you," Stephanie said meekly.

  Gerdy answered with another wave and disappeared into the darkness.

  Stephanie faced the motel. A man stumbled out the door and down the steps. "Little lady," he said as he passed, tipping his hat to her.

  Stephanie stepped back, holding her bag close to her, but the man didn't notice. He kept walking, whistling the same tune that came from the motel.

  She walked into the motel, slowly, looking carefully around. No one seemed to take much notice of her. The motel was small but full of people. Sawdust and dried dirt covered the floor, getting swept this way and that with each person bounding across it. A small hallway lay to the side of the bar and there didn't seem to be any counter in which to get a room.

  Dodging stumbling men and cackling women, she walked up to the bar and took a place between two large men, who, thankfully, were completely absorbed in their mugs of beer in front of them. The woman behind the bar was hefty and robust. Her blonde, curls were pulled back into a loose bun as she charged back and forth from behind the counter. A permanent scowl was etched on her face but she was friendly and jovial with the men shouting their drink orders.

  After a few minutes, she lumbered up to Stephanie. "You just gonna stand there all night, or you gonna order somethin'?"

  "I—I—I need a room."

  "That'll be fifty cents, then. Second door on the right," she said, nodding to the hallway and tossing her a key.

  Stephanie pulled out her purse and handed her the fifty-cent piece. She tucked her purse back into her bag and scanned the room quickly, out of curiosity. Her jaw dropped as her sight landed on the woman sitting at the table in the corner, staring drunkenly down at her drink and being given a wide berth from the rest of the customers. Stephanie flew across the room, dodging past people and around flailing limbs.

  "Maggie!"

  Her eyes looked lazily up at Stephanie. When her eyes finally focused, recognizing Stephanie, they grew cold. She harrumphed. "Whatta you want?" She took another long swig of her beer.

  Stephanie pulled out a chair without waiting for an invitation. "Oh Maggie, I'm so sorry you got fired."

  She jabbed an unsteady finger in Stephanie's face. "It's all your fault, you know? I never, ever, shoulda protected you. Now, look at where I am!"

  Stephanie's lip trembled gently. She looked down at her hands as she fiddled with her bag between her fingers. Logically, she knew that Maggie, along with everyone else in the world, was safer the farther away from Ripewood Manor they got. But Stephanie also knew what loyalty meant to Maggie. "You're right, it's my fault you were fired!"

  "Aw, no, that wasin it."

  "Still...you must hate me."

  "Aw, I'm sorry, Stephi. I didna mean that! Course I don't hate you."

  Stephanie sniffed again, nodding gently. "It was a terrible thing. She shouldn't have fired you for one little mistake."

  "She didn't have a choice." She took a long draft from her beer and slammed it against the table. Her head fell on the crux of her arm.

  Stephanie was confused at her sudden collapse until she saw Maggie's shoulders shaking and heaving. Dry sobs shook her shoulders and body.

  "Maggie?"

  She uttered a wail, slamming her fist against the table. "The missus can't trust me no more," she wailed. "I never woulda let 'er down. I was worried for you, is all." Maggie pulled herself up. "You're a good girl, Stephi. Don't wanna see nothing bad happen to you, that's all."

  "What do you know, Maggie?"

  She shook her head. "No. Maybe I don't work there anymore, but Magaret Downy is a woman of her word." She shook her finger at Stephanie as she spoke and drained the rest of her beer. "Imma go get 'nother one," she said, pushing herself to feet.

  "No," Stephanie cried.

  "Huh?"

  "I'll get it. This round is on me, all right?"

  Maggie shrugged and dropped herself back into her chair. Stephanie got up in her place and made her way back to the bar. Now, she didn't have to bother ducking out of the way of people as she walked. The other customers seemed much more aware and wary of her presence although they still didn't look at her-not directly at least.

  A large space opened up before her as she approached approached the bar. In seconds, the barkeep was before her.

  "What can I get you?" the heavy woman asked.

  "Just two glasses of water, please."

  The bar woman nodded and left, returning moments later with the water. She looked back at Maggie. As Stephanie took the glasses from her hand, the barkeep pulled her in, whispering in her ear, "You best be careful what sorta company you keep, miss. That woman's dangerous."

  Stephanie pulled away from her
, holding the glasses tightly. "Thank you for the water."

  "What ya doing here, anyway?" Maggie asked when Stephanie returned. She turned the glass around, eyeing it suspiciously. She harrumphed. "All right, all right. I guess I have to stop sometime."

  "I left Ripewood too."

  Maggie's mouth fell open in exaggerated shock. "You're fired too?"

  "No. I just left."

  That sent Maggie into another tearful fit. "My poor lady. She's all alone with that bloody monster!"

  "No, she's not. Charles came back."

  Maggie tilted her head up. "Charles? But then why'd ya leave?"

  "I had to, Maggie." Stephanie leaned across the table again. "It's not safe there. For anyone."

  Maggie sat up straighter. "What you mean?"

  "They're lunatics! I don't know who's worse: the crazy man that thinks he's a dead man or the sane people who keep him chained up because he's some possessed soul."

  Maggie's mouth dropped again. "So you know?"

  "Yes. I don't understand how you could have sat back and watched it all? I know you're a kind woman, Maggie, why didn't you try and stop it."

  "You don't know what it was like," Maggie said coldly, shaking her head, all her tears and sorrow replaced by a hardness. "That man was evil and they did what they had to." Her eyes met Stephanie's. "I don't regret it for a moment."

  "Locking a madman up for months was their only choice? They should have sent him to a hospital where they could take care of him properly, keep him safe."

  Maggie slouched in her chair. "That man'll never be safe. Not how he is now." Her eyelids grew heavy as she slouched further in her chair. "Besides, he's the one that didn't have enough sense to just stay dead."

  "You mean Fredrick?"

  Maggie's eyes snapped open again. "Yeah."

  "Don't tell me you believe this nonsense about Fredrick possessing Victor," she said in a whispered hush.

  "Course I do. I watched it happen," she said, starting to mumble. Her eyes blinked lazily, drawing closer together with each blink. "We watched him drown..." her words slowly becoming one, "and watched him come up." Maggie's eyes were almost closed. "In Victor." Maggie's head fell forwards and a deep, rumbling snore bubbled up from her throat.

  Stephanie snapped out of her momentary shock. "Maggie?" she cried. She reached across the table, shaking her arm. Maggie's head rolled to the side. She grunted and swatted Stephanie's away but didn't come to.

  Stephanie looked around the room. No one made eye contact with her. Heads turned quickly in the opposite direction from her gaze while everyone else was too engrossed in their own problems or revelry to notice her. Stephanie sighed and walked around the side of the table. She shook Maggie until she was decently aware and threw her arm over her shoulder.

  "Come on, Maggie. Up you get." She heaved Maggie to her feet, almost falling over. Maggie gave a hollow laugh and stumbled forwards. Stephanie caught her and kept herself underneath her arm. With Maggie semi-walking, she was able to give enough support to make it across the room. Stephanie suddenly felt thankful that most of the customers cleared a path for them to pass by.

  When they arrived to the narrow hallway, Stephanie shook Maggie. "What room are you staying in?"

  Maggie threw her arm forward, "Third."

  "We'll be sharing a wall again," Stephanie said under her breath. "Won't that be nice when you're liquored up." The hallway wasn't wide enough for both of them to pass side-by-side. "Go on." She ducked out from underneath Maggie's arm, nudging her forward.

  Half leaning on the walls, Maggie stumbled down the hall, taking long, lumbering steps. Stephanie helped Maggie into her room and she collapsed, facedown on the bed, already snoring like a bull when Stephanie closed the door behind her.

  Stephanie went to her room. Despite finally having time and opportunity to get a good night's rest, she knew that between Maggie's snoring and what she'd told her, she wouldn't be getting much shut-eye.

  Chapter 36

  Stephanie

  WHEN STEPHANIE WOKE, the sky was pink with sunlight spread out across wispy clouds. She recalled the sailor's expression her father used to use. Pink sky at night, sailor's delight. Pink sky in morning, sailors take warning. She wiped the hard sleep from her eyes and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

  A folded piece of paper lay on the floor in front of the door. She walked over and knelt on the ground, unfolding the note to read.

  Dearest Stephanie,

  I will wait for you at the bar. We have much to discuss.

  Yours always,

  Theodore Bixley

  Stephanie hurried to prepare herself and left the room. As he'd said, Theodore was sitting at the bar, book in hand, when she turned the corner. He looked to meet her gaze and his eyes lit up although no smile graced his face. He nodded and gestured toward the table in the corner where she'd found Maggie the night before.

  He pulled out a chair for her. "I would have asked you to meet me in a finer restaurant where I could treat you to a finer breakfast than coffee, but I thought the relative vacancy here would serve our purposes well."

  "It's fine," she said.

  He returned to the bar and took the two coffee cups the man behind the counter placed there. Stephanie felt relieved that it wasn't the same woman as the previous night. They didn't need to be under any more scrutiny than they already were.

  Theodore placed the coffees on the table and joined her. "I'm sorry you had to barter with such a crass oaf as Thomas last night," he said, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his drink. "Thankfully, the man is easily bought and told me immediately of your visit."

  "It's hardly your fault the man was indecent."

  "But it is," he said, looking up at her. "Had I known you would be arriving, you never would have been subjected to such an indignity."

  Stephanie blushed. "But you didn't know. You can hardly be expected to know my thoughts and every movement."

  "Still." He placed a hand over hers. "I ask you to forgive me."

  His hand surprised her; not only its touch but also the strength with which he held hers.

  She pried her eyes from his since she couldn't remove her hand as easily. "Forgiven and forgotten." She cleared her throat.

  "Good." He tapped her hand and returned to gently stirring his coffee. "May I ask why you've come here?"

  "I've left Ripewood Manor permanently."

  His face fell momentarily but he recovered his calm visage quickly. "I suppose it's for the best. That place is far too dangerous for a girl like you." He sipped his coffee. "But, if you don't mind my asking, what sparked this sudden decision?"

  Stephanie looked carefully around the room without making a show of it. Thankfully, the man who'd stood behind the counter was gone. She leaned across the table and whispered, "Charles has returned."

  Theodore grimaced slighted and nodded. "Yes, I'm aware. He arrived yesterday with Mr. McGregor."

  Stephanie straightened her back. "Mr. McGregor? But how do you know that?" Charles had neglected to mention he'd brought his friend with him.

  "I'll explain once you've finished your story."

  Stephanie wondered if he was testing her. How much did he already know and was merely waiting to hear from her? With so few friends, Stephanie could hardly hope to find another person to confide in.

  Stephanie told him what Charles had confessed about her mother disappearing and her suspicions about Fredrick's involvement, Victor's behavior and Charles' theory in regards to it, and finally, her subsequent departure.

  Theodore listened with bated breath to her long, complicated story, throwing the occasional wary glance around the room but never interrupting her. When she'd finished, he sat back in his chair, shaking his head.

  "I never suspected this. They are truly going mad in that house. You were wise to run away while you could. Are you all right now? You might need to see a doctor."

  Stephanie touched her neck. The skin was sore and painful to touch but she w
asn't injured. "No, I'm fine."

  He nodded. "Of course. If they believe Victor's possessed, it explains Mr. McGregor's presence at the house and his reluctance to speak with me."

  "What do you mean?"

  Theodore leaned across the table towards her. Their heads practically met in the center. He lowered his voice just above a whisper. "Mr. McGregor was a priest until he was excommunicated. It took some digging, but I found out what he did to be expelled from the order."

  "What?"

  "He was performing unsanctioned exorcisms in the village he was working. He'd petitioned the Vatican earlier but they denied his request, seeing as they found no evidence to support his claims. He went ahead and performed them on his own. One little girl died."

  "My god!" Stephanie covered her mouth. "And that's the man that Charles has brought to the house?"

  Theodore nodded. "They're all too far gone to realize the danger they pose themselves. Bringing a wolf-like McGregor into their midst is as bad as sitting back and waiting for Victor to kill more women."

  "But wait, Theodore, how did you know that McGregor was there? Even I didn't know that."

  "I met him a few days ago. He didn't want to say much at first, but you'd be surprised at how much a little booze will loosen a man's tongue."

  Or a woman's for that matter, Stephanie thought, recalling Maggie's considerably freer speech from the night before. "What did you manage to learn?"

  "That he was being supported, commissioned he said, by a private benefactor. He would be leaving in a few days, he told me, to complete his assignment and he'd be free to...well I'd been asking him about some activities, all part of the cover, you see."

  Stephanie raised her eyebrow.

  "I told him I was looking into obtaining some religious artifacts that were...never mind, my cover is hardly of consequence at the moment."

  Stephanie tried to suppress a smirk as she watched him squirm in his seat.

  "I knew he was up to something so I followed him when he left the hotel. He met up with Charles sometime later. Thick as thieves those two."

  Stephanie cleared her throat. "Was there anything else you found out about him?"

  Theodore shook his head. "Nothing we didn't already know."