by Lori Zaremba
She was a changed woman as she walked out of the Morning Glory B&B.
Riding back with barely a soul in sight, she rested her head against Jason’s shoulder and enjoyed the contact. Trudy smiled deliciously, knowing that last night she let go of all her inhibitions.
Last night she was nothing more than a beautiful woman.
They arrived at the mansion a couple of hours later. Jason set the bike’s kickstand and shut down the engine.
He smiled back at her and asked, “Are you ready to do the walk of shame?”
Trudy looked up and saw Leslie standing in the front door with her hands on her hips. She chuckled. “I told her not to wait up.”
Jason stared up to where Leslie stood and whispered to Trudy, “She’s a little scary.”
Trudy laughed. “She can be.”
When they approached her, Leslie raised her eyebrows and said, “Good morning.”
As soon as they walked into the house, Patrick, Dana, and Leslie all started talking at the same time, telling her about the crazy night they’d had in the house.
“Whoa.” Trudy held up her hands. “One at a time.”
Leslie told her story first. She spoke about a man who had some vital documents that he had wanted her to sign in the basement. “Please come to the basement,” he said to Leslie.
Trudy asked, “Did you go to the basement?”
Leslie laughingly replied, “Trudy, you have a better chance of seeing the Lord baby Jesus than seeing me go down into that hellhole!”
Joining her in laughter and shaking her head, Trudy turned toward Patrick. “What happened to you?”
He replied, “A young maid named Chelsea kept telling me it was time to get up. ‘It’s time to get up. We’re going to visit Grandpa and Grandma. It’s time to get up.’” Patrick shook his head. “I could see her long print dress with white lace at the collar and sleeve and the white apron she wore.”
Trudy suddenly remembered another part of her dream. “Chelsea was in my dream!” She looked about the group. “She helped put away Vanessa clothes, and I remember her walking the dog, Caesar.”
Dana, who Trudy had given Vanessa’s journal to yesterday, said she had a lot of answers to the questions contained in the journal. She said that before disclosing what she felt to be the truth, she wanted to go down to the library with Trudy and do some research about some of the subjects in the journal.
Dana looked at the group. “We’re getting close to the truth. Real close. Keep your eyes wide open and pay attention to your dreams. The answers are there.”
The team went into the kitchen to have breakfast. Dana explained to the others about the journal Trudy had found and told them that Vanessa mentioned Eric in the diary.
This information brought a gasp from Leslie, and Patrick said, “Really?”
Dana then turned to Trudy to let her know that when she held the journal, she got a feeling. “Carlson did not kill Eric. Instead, he sent him somewhere, arranging a job, possibly, and a hefty deposit to Eric’s bank account, a small price to keep his mouth shut.”
“Then why did I dream about him?” Leslie wondered out loud.
Dana ran a shaky hand through her hair. “I don’t know yet. For some reason, my vision is blocked where he’s concerned.”
Trudy could tell it weighed heavily on Dana.
“Well, let’s go see if we can find out anything more about this Eric Gallow.” Trudy ushered them to the door before turning and blowing Jason a sneaky little kiss. She heard the slight snicker from Leslie, but she chose to ignore it.
As the girls headed off to the library, each had a list of names and dates to research. Jason, Patrick, and Ryan were going down to investigate the much-dreaded basement and explore it during daylight.
Chapter16
Trudy was looking for information on Nathan Petit, Vanessa, and Raul Dupree. She settled on a computer in the corner of the quiet library, which smelled of old books and fresh-perked coffee from the café next door.
Leslie sat next to her, prepared for work, her blond hair piled on her head and her black cheaters low on her nose. She was looking for information on Eric Gallow, Theodore Wilcox, and Gloria Petit. Dana was in a small nook in the opposite corner looking through a stack of books and a computer for information on Douglas and Jon DePaul. Trudy smiled, noticing that a college-age young man was trying to flirt with Dana, who resembled a kid herself in her pink sweats, but she didn’t pay him any attention at all.
Trudy shifted in the seat and turned back to her research, discovering Nathan Petit came from old money. His family amassed a fortune from manufacturing steel. His older brother, Matthew, grew the business even during the war, thanks to demands from the military to increase supplies. The Petit family also invested in real estate in Europe, as well as American lumber, steel, and agriculture. Nathan was a millionaire in his own right by taking the money he had received from his trust fund and investing it wisely. The family was noted for its philanthropy, giving a significant amount of their wealth to charities at home and abroad.
Nathan seemed to give the most to causes that helped children and the poor. He held fundraisers and gave generously to several local orphanages, including the Sacred Heart in Chicago. Nathan had moved to Chicago in December 1924 to oversee the building of a steel mill. His family in France joined relatives who had settled in America decades earlier to invest in the growth of the steel industry. She found mention of Gloria Petit Wilcox and her family ties to manufacturing.
Trudy read through article after article. She found several that mentioned Vanessa and Nathan in each other’s company at events in the society section of the Tribune. She saw a few photos as well. Vanessa was always dressed to kill in a dress designed by Raul Dupree. In one photo, Vanessa was in Nathan’s arms as they danced at the wedding of one of Nathan’s relatives. The picture was faded with age, but the look on Nathan’s face withstood the test of time. He was genuinely in love with Vanessa.
Feeling a little giddy, she recalled seeing the same look flash across Jason’s face as they held each other last night. She closed her eyes as the memories flooded her and gave a little sigh.
Trudy felt her cheeks redden and looked around to see if anyone noticed. Both Leslie, who was scribbling furiously on her tablet, and Dana were both deeply engrossed in their study, and neither was paying her any attention. Trudy exclaimed aloud as she landed on the next article.
Heiress Vanessa Holland Arrested By The Cook County Police.
The Chicago Tribune dated June 29, 1925.
The photo was of a disheveled and scantily dressed Vanessa being carried from the police station by a man whom the paper called her sheik, a term for boyfriend, Nathan Petit, and it covered half the front page.
The Cook County Police arrested the socialite and several of her flapper friends for indecent exposure and trespassing when they were caught swimming in their undergarments on private property owned by Smith Company Furnishings.
Trudy burst out laughing, drawing a shhh from Leslie, who now leaned over to see what had Trudy laughing.
She looked at Trudy with astonishment. “Your dream,” she mouthed.
Trudy looked down at Leslie’s notebook. She also had several copies of articles she had printed off.
“How about you? Are you learning anything?”
“Plenty.” Leslie winked as she turned back to her research.
Trudy continued searching for more information about Nathan and read more of the same. From the look of things, he and Vanessa were very casually dating. Vanessa attended events with several other men, while the only other woman she found mentioned in conjunction with Nathan Petit was his engagement announcement in 1930. Three years after Vanessa’s death, Nathan was living in Paris.
The announcement was dated July 1, 1930.
Nathan Petit and Camille Moreau announce their intention to be married.
Trudy was ready to call it a day. Sitting in one place all day wore her out. Just as she was
prepared to close the browser, the word “obituary” caught her eye. It was Vanessa’s.
Vanessa Wilcox Holland, age 25, died Friday, November 11, 1927, after falling down the staircase of her home.
Trudy thought strange to be mentioned in an obituary.
She was preceded in death by her husband Carlson Holland and her mother, Violet Wilcox.
Vanessa leaves behind a son Chase Holland as well as her father, Harold Wilcox, and brother, Theodore (Gloria) Wilcox.
Beloved wife, mother, and daughter.
Funeral will be held Sunday at the Covenant Presbyterian Church, 12:00 p.m. mass.
“Falling down the staircase?”
Trudy shook her head and gathered her pile of notes and copies. Dana and Leslie waited for her outside. Trudy noticed the wind picking up and looked toward the sky as storm clouds gathered. She wasn’t overly impressed with the Chicago weather thus far.
Instead of eating out, the girls decided to pick up lunch on their way home.
***
As soon as the girls stumbled into the house, carrying all their notes, copies, and several boxes of Santiago’s deep-dish pizza, Trudy sensed something was wrong. Dana started to pitch forward, and Leslie had to grab the pizza boxes out of her arms while Trudy reached out to balance her before she collapsed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Leslie asked worriedly.
Dana started to dry heave from the intense pressure in the house. Trudy motioned for Leslie to help Dana sit on the base of the steps until she could get her wits about her. Trudy felt the hair rising on the back of her neck as she quickly went to the basement door, where the men were supposed to be investigating. Jasmine sat staring at the threshold earnestly, and when Trudy opened the door, the big dog let out a yelp but remained at Trudy’s side.
“Jason?” Trudy called out. “Patrick?” And when she didn’t get a response, she knew she had to go down the steps. She called Leslie over. “Keep this damned door open.”
Trudy slowly went down the old wooden stairs that creaked and moaned with every step on the treads. She was relieved that Jasmine crept silently behind her. She knew the dog was trained to watch her back. She reached the bottom and padded softly to her left when she heard a slight murmur coming from that direction.
“Jason?” she whispered. Jasmine, now beside her, started a low growl of warning.
Trudy stopped near a large pile of debris, at least twenty-five feet high, and switched on the flashlight of her cell phone to peer up into the gaping hole far above. She remembered Paul telling her about the collapse of the stairs in the servants’ quarters and how he tried to hire contractor after contractor to clean out the rubbish, but something always ran them off the job.
Circling back, Trudy tried a wooden door at the base of the stairs, but it was locked. She backed away and headed in the opposite direction. She pulled open another door to what appeared to be the old coal cellar.
When Trudy noticed the blood on the floor, terror struck her. Just as she found the broken camera lying nearby, the basement lights flickered off. Trying not to panic as the space was cast into intense blackness, she kicked something hard with her boot that sent the item skittering across the gravel floor.
Turning on the flashlight again, she gasped when she discovered the item was an axe, which she carefully picked up with the sleeve of her jacket. Pulling a tissue from her pocket, Trudy touched it to the blade and saw the blood. Jumping back and dropping the axe, her cell phone battery died, throwing the space into total darkness once again. She wasted no time in getting to the door and knew it would be locked before she even reached for the handle. Jasmine started barking and whining behind her. Something or someone was in the space, but because of the violently barking dog, whatever it was hunkered in the darkness on the far side of the room.
Trudy rammed against the door, calling out for help and rapidly becoming overcome by the smell of decaying flesh. Whatever was in the corner seemed to be moving closer. The dog pressed against the back of her legs and continued barking. Trudy gave another desperate shove, and just like that, the door burst open, sending her tumbling to the ground.
A bright light of a flashlight blinded her, but Trudy was relieved to see Dana standing above her, along with Leslie, who held a shovel over her head.
“Trudy, are you all right?” the duo asked in unison, helping Trudy to her feet.
“Let’s get out of here.” Trudy ushered them up the steps to the safety of the main floor. “Dana, do you have your cell phone?”
Nodding, Dana removed it from her purse.
“What happened here?” Trudy asked the psychic.
“The men were attacked!”
“Jason?” Trudy worried.
Before Dana could answer her, the cell phone rang in Trudy’s hand.
“Oh, thank God, it’s Patrick,” Trudy announced as she answered the call. “Patrick?”
“No, this is Jason.”
Flooded with relief at the sound of his voice, Trudy shakily sat on the bottom step.
He gave her the short version of what happened. “The place became unsettled, and the basement door slammed shut. I was with Patrick in the cold cellar when the lights went out.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Something shoved me hard, and that’s when an axe flew off the wall and struck Patrick.” She could hear the fear in his voice. “He’s cut pretty bad, but the doctors say he’ll be okay.” He paused, and she heard another faint voice apparently speaking to Jason. “Oh, hey, it looks like they’re releasing him now. We should be home soon.” Trudy could hear more murmuring, then Jason’s voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Trudy, don’t you dare go down into that basement.” With that, he hung up.
Too late.
Bile rose in her throat, and she sat on a chair in the front parlor and put her head between her knees till her stomach settled. Glancing up, she realized both Dana and Leslie were standing near her. Trudy told them Jason’s account of what happened in the basement.
“Are we dealing with something evil here?” Trudy asked Dana, who stepped into the middle of the foyer and closed her eyes.
“No, just a very hostile spirit who feels like somebody did him wrong.”
“Douglas?” Leslie and Trudy said his name at the same time.
Dana stood still, listening. “Maybe. I’m not sure. There’s an awful lot of yelling going on.” She held up her hand to fend off any further questions before heading up the steps.
“Who’s yelling?” Leslie turned to Trudy, who shrugged.
The two agreed there would be no investigating this evening. Instead, they decided to spend the evening going through the evidence they had gathered. Trudy also wanted to review the past couple of nights’ investigation data and see what they may have captured.
When the men returned home from the hospital, Jason was absent. Ryan said, “Jason went over to review the cameras. He wanted to know what the hell had shut and locked the door to the basement. We were unable to get out that way.”
Trudy was baffled. “Ryan, when we came home, the basement door was unlocked.”
Ryan studied her solemnly before shaking his head. “I don’t know, Trudy. I’m getting a little worried that you won’t be able to fix this mess.”
She felt the heat rise on her cheeks. She knew he was speaking from a place of worry, but it was irritating that he was losing confidence in her. “Well, you know me, Ryan. I’ve never given up on a case.”
Trudy put her hands on her hips and started to turn, but Ryan grabbed her arm to stop her. “I know that, but look how much it’s cost you.” He strode off toward the kitchen, and Trudy watched until he disappeared from her sight.
She knew he was referring to her time on the force and the damage the job had caused to her personal life. She tossed her hands in the air, determined not to ever let that happen again. She sprinted out to the garage where she knew Jason would be.
When she arrived, he was studying one of the monitors intently, and he signaled
for her to come over and watch as well. She squeezed through several of his employees, who nodded wearily when she greeted them.
Jason and Trudy watched the monitor, noticing that the basement door was wide open after the men descended the steps. Jason pointed to another screen where Jasmine appeared, running down the main steps like she was chasing something, through the hall, and to the basement door. It slammed in front of her. Jasmine stood there with her hackles up, repeatedly barking at the door, and like any good police dog, she retraced her steps several times to see where she lost the scent.
“Did you see that?” Jason looked at Trudy with disbelief.
Trudy studied him. “Why are you so surprised?”
He pulled her close against him, and she didn’t know if the tremble she felt came from him or her own body. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be investigating like this, but I don’t think I will never not be surprised by this weird shit.”
Trudy asked, “Do you have sound on that camera?”
He nodded.
“Let’s watch it again, but this time turn up the volume.”
What they discovered was a voice saying, “Get this dog away from me.” They also heard not only Jasmine barking, but another dog as well, barking furiously once the door slammed. The only sound they heard besides the barking dogs was the pounding and yelling of the men on the other side of the door.
Switching off the monitor, Jason shook his head. He called over a couple of his men and asked them to analyze all the cameras and see what other footage they could find.
Jason and Trudy headed back to the house. Before they went inside, Trudy wrapped her hand around his wrist, pulling him back toward her. He turned toward her, his expression questioning. Wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly, she inhaled deeply, her face pressed into his neck. He smelled of soap and fresh air.
Jason cradled her face in his hands. “What’s this for?”