The Wynne Witch

by H. P. Bayne

  The Wynne Witch

  The Braddock & Gray Case Files

  H.P. Bayne

  Copyright © 2020 by H.P. Bayne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To the real Drea and Neil in my life.

  Thank you for being you.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by H.P. Bayne

  1

  The house stood at the end of a winding, country lane, a mass of grey amidst the late-September frost.

  It came into view through a break in the trees, just the other side of a narrow stone bridge.

  Neil Wynne held the brake before crossing, affording his family their first glimpse of the house.

  “Well, there she is,” he said. “What do you think?”

  At sixteen, Casey could hardly be counted on for a helpful opinion. Most days, he struggled to get her to even look up from her phone.

  Today, she was interested enough to break with routine. Not that it helped much.

  “Oh my God, Dad, seriously? We’re not living there.”

  He cast a glance at her in the rearview. Casey’s eyes, for possibly the first time on the entire drive out, had most definitely left her phone. They had bugged out, fixed on the house ahead.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Neil returned his gaze to the property and gave a shrug. “It’s a fixer-upper, I’ll admit. But the bones are great. Solid stone structure. Roof’s well-maintained, so no water damage. Hey, and it’s got a huge garden out back. Even has a maze. What do you think about that?”

  Casey snorted. “I’m not five, Dad.”

  Neil turned to his wife for help. Drea smirked, tilting her head toward the rear seat. “She’s not five.”

  It was Drea’s kind tone, the one she used when she had something to tell him he didn’t want to hear.

  He didn’t ask. “Let’s just give it a try, all right? It’s ours now. It’s paid for and it’s a hell of a lot bigger than the dump we’re leaving behind.”

  Drea slugged him lightly on the arm. “Hey! I like our dump.”

  “Me too,” Casey said. “My friends are there.”

  Neil peered into the rearview mirror again, seeking out eyes that refused to meet his. “You don’t even like them anymore. You said so last week.”

  “Beats having to make all new friends. Anyway, how many kids even go to school out here? Twelve?”

  Neil sighed and released the brake. So much for getting his family on board.

  They’d been through a lot the past few years. All he could think of most days was how great it would be to toss all of it aside and start over. Just find the three of them a new life together, away from everyone they knew, every memory, every bad thing they’d had to face. He’d hoped this move would be their chance. Still did. Unfortunately, it seemed he was the only one who felt that way.

  He drove them in the rest of the way, the mass of building drawing ever closer until he pulled up beneath its dim shadow. The morning sun was struggling to poke through a thin cloud of fog, creating a hazy, chilly, dreamlike world.

  If that wasn’t the metaphor for his life.

  He removed a fast food cup from the cupholder to retrieve a set of keys beneath. Then he gave Drea a hopeful, encouraging smile and stepped from the vehicle.

  For a moment, he stayed where he was, forearms coming to rest atop the car roof as he cast his eyes over the property. Mainly two stories, it boasted an extra floor toward the centre, not so much an attic as a bonus space. The entire centre portion of the house was archways, pillars and balustrades, the topmost floor boasting a sizeable balcony he pictured himself sunning on come summer.

  Although the stone was chipped and the paint around the windows had long since faded and cracked, the house boasted a classic and elegant facade. It had been built, he’d been told, around the turn of the twentieth century, making it well over one hundred years old.

  Which seemed about the age his Aunt Mildred had been when she died.

  Drea, stepping to his side and wrapping an arm around his back, seemed to read his mind. “You didn’t even know your Aunt Mildred, did you? I never even heard you mention her.”

  “She was my dad’s aunt, and he was never big on keeping up with his family.”

  “So why’d she leave this to you?”

  A good question without a good answer.

  He shrugged. “There aren’t a lot of us left in the family. And as I understand it, Mildred never married. Back then, you didn’t dare have kids out of wedlock, so she never had a family.”

  Drea’s arm squeezed around him as she laid her head along his shoulder. “Kind of sad, thinking of her cooped up out here all by herself. How old was she when she died?”

  “I don’t know.” He smirked. “Probably about a hundred and twenty-five.”

  Drea shoved him away and slugged him playfully. “Let’s go check out the house. Hopefully, you like it as much as you did last week.”

  Neil had come up after the reading of the will, curious as to what he’d been gifted. He hadn’t spent long inside, only enough to assure himself his aunt had maintained the place sufficiently for them to move right in. It needed an overhaul—desperately, if he were any judge. But it had plumbing and heating and a working kitchen, which was all they’d need to live here while they fixed it up. The best part was, they could accept the generous offer they’d received on their current house in Kimotan Rapids and start the process of moving.

  Drea knocked on the car’s rear window to summon Casey. “Hey, kid, let’s go explore.”

  “I don’t want to,” came the muffled reply.

  Neil heaved open the door, holding out an arm to beckon her forward. “Your castle awaits, my princess.”

  “God, Dad, you’re such a nerd.”

  But the words proved enough to draw her out anyway, albeit with a set-upon sigh. Neil closed the door and used his car remote to lock the vehicle—habit rather than necessity out here in the middle of nowhere.

  He glanced at Casey to find her eyes fixed on an upper floor window, one immediately above the front entrance.

  “Dad? Didn’t you say your aunt lived alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she’s dead, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Casey butted her chin in the direction she was focused. “So who’s that?”

  Neil’s heart thudded as his eyes snapped toward the windows. He stared, expecting to find an intruder.

  He saw nothing.

  “No one’s there, hon.”

  He glanced from the empty windows to his daughter’s face. Her eyes were narrowed, still focused overhead.

  “She was there. I saw her. An old lady.”

  “You don’t see her now?” Drea asked, anxiety lacing her voice.

  “No, she’s gone. I only saw her for a second. But she was right there, in that centre window.”

  Neil stepped closer until he stood directly behind Casey to gain her
vantage point. “Maybe it was a reflection from something outside.”

  Casey glared over her shoulder at him, brows pinched together, expression incredulous. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned to Drea, hoping for a solution. She didn’t seem to have one in mind.

  “Why don’t you two wait here, and I’ll go check it out?” he said at last.

  Drea’s hand seized his arm. “No. Not alone. If there’s someone in there—”

  “Casey saw an old woman.” Neil smirked. “I’m pretty sure I can handle an old woman.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Drea said. If she was trying for humour, it seemed to get caught halfway.

  “Give me five minutes,” he said.

  He left his family behind, keys jingling in his hand as he stepped to the door.

  The house was as he’d left it, locked tight, windows intact, nothing to suggest anyone had gained entry.

  Assuring himself a break-in hadn’t occurred, he walked the entirety of the main floor first. He skipped the basement, which he hadn’t examined last week either, telling himself he knew next to nothing about water heaters and furnaces. An inspector he’d hired in since told him everything was in good shape. Certainly, the inspector said nothing about another tenant.

  The thought played in Neil’s head that he was still, to this day, terrified of basements. After acknowledging the thought, he forced it away. Now wasn’t the time to give in to fear.

  Not with the stairs to the second floor standing directly in front of him.

  He took them slowly, heart pounding harder with each step closer to the image Casey claimed to have seen. Despite having gained a few pounds recently, he knew it wasn’t physical exertion leading to his increased heart rate.

  It was fear.

  “Steady, boy,” he muttered as he climbed, one hand on the oak railing. The hallway was awash in shadow, yet at least two doors stood open nearby, suggesting heavy drapes were pulled close to block out the light. He located the switch where he’d found it last week, flipping it up to reveal his surroundings.

  Or as much of them as he could. Resembling a scene from one of those shows featuring Victorian England, the sconces overhead flickered dimly like oil lamps.

  Dim lighting. Drawn drapes. Aunt Mildred might well have been a vampire.

  A vampire. God, where his imagination was taking him.

  Turning onto the second-floor landing, he scanned each direction as he listened. No sounds came, nothing to indicate the presence of another living person.

  Could it be the person Casey saw wasn’t living?

  “Shut up, stupid,” he grumbled. And he felt stupid as he contemplated calling out, giving voice to Casey’s read of what she’d seen. He did so, anyway. “Is anyone here?”

  No reply, which didn’t come as a tremendous surprise.

  “You’re not in any trouble. Just come out if you’re here!”

  Still nothing.

  He started to the right, to the doorway leading to the master suite. It was huge, with a massive four-poster canopy bed, the kind with curtains encircling it. The door was open, yet it was pitch black inside.

  He’d opened the drapes last week.

  Neil paused at the entrance, battling his nerves. The light switch, he thought, was inside to the right.

  Just reach in, feel around, flip it on. All there is to it.

  He drew in a breath, held it as he fumbled in the dark for the switch.

  At the feel of cobwebs, he yanked his hand back, worrying about the possibility of a spider bite. Yet no webs showed on his hand.

  He tried again, relieved the webby sensation was gone. With a flick of the switch, he accomplished his task, extinguishing the gloom.

  The room, at first glance, was empty. No one there. No one in sight, anyway.

  He’d need to do a more fulsome search. The bed seemed the most obvious. Though the curtains were pulled aside, he checked behind them before dropping onto his knees and peering beneath the bed.

  Next came the walk-in closet. He bit back anxiety as he reached the knob and turned. Sucking it up, he yanked the door open.

  His aunt’s clothes still hung from the rails inside, a creepy reminder for him to make efforts to dispose of them just as soon as he could. But a riffle through revealed no intruders, so he closed the door and returned to the room.

  Only the space behind the curtains remained. He recalled an extended window seat lay beyond.

  The drapes were unmoving, no sign anyone stood behind them. Even so, a shiver wracked his spine as he reached to pull them open.

  There were six, two per window, and he moved along quickly, yanking them wide open before he had another chance to consider the possibilities. In less than ten seconds, all said, he was left with a sense of relief. Not only was the room now well-lit and even comfortable-looking, no sign of disturbance showed in the dust covering the window seat or the ledge. No evidence anyone had stood here moments ago.

  He peered through the window, finding his wife and daughter below. They stood huddled together, and their faces relaxed as they saw him. Smiling, he waved. They waved back.

  Neil stepped away from the window and glanced down. Yep, he’d left prints in the dust while standing here, looking out. As far as he was concerned, that proved it. No one had been there. With the curtains drawn, heavy as they were, someone would have had to be kneeling on the bench to be seen by Casey.

  She had clearly been imagining things. He hesitated to think it, but she might even have been making things up.

  After brushing a layer of dust from his hands and knees, he carried on checking the rest of the floor. Again, nothing was to be found.

  One door stood near the end of the hall, this one with a lock. He hadn’t succeeded in opening it last time and had no better luck today. None of the keys seemed to work, but if he couldn’t access it, he wasn’t concerned an intruder had.

  He scanned the large bonus room on the uppermost floor, then returned to the centre of the floor below, next to the door to the master bedroom.

  Everything was clear.

  Releasing a breath in a low chuckle, he turned toward the now-fully lit doorway into the master bedroom.

  Just in time to see the curtains yanked closed.

  Neil was unable to stifle a yelp, his shock sending him backward until he collided with the wall.

  Someone was inside the bedroom. An intruder was inside the house while his wife and daughter stood a short distance away.

  He smothered fear with rage. Summoning up muscle memory from his college football days, he pushed off the wall behind and charged forward, entering the room before he had another second to think about it. One arm flew to the side and struck the light switch, lighting up the room.

  Empty.

  It was empty.

  No one under the bed, in the closet, behind the curtains.

  He heaved them aside once again, casting a glance down at his family. They smiled up at him.

  Next to them stood an old woman.

  He stood frozen in place as ghastly dark eyes in a drawn, grey face peered up, directly into his.

  For a moment, she smiled. Only for a moment.

  Then her mouth opened wide. Her shriek was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

  2

  The phone call from Lachlan Fields came early, even before Sullivan “Sully” Gray had rolled out of bed.

  He tugged the phone from its charging cable on the table next to the pullout, then drew it to him beneath the duvet. The heat had conked out again overnight. Hopefully, the same hadn’t happened in Emily’s apartment across the hall.

  Sully tapped the button to talk and put it on speaker so he could place the phone next to him while tucking his arms in close to his body.

  “Morning, Lachlan,” he said.

  “You still asleep?”

  Sully checked the time on his phone screen. “It’s barely seven in the morning. And it’s Saturday. Of course, I’m st
ill asleep.”

  “Ours is not a Monday-to-Friday, nine-to-five, my boy. I’ve got a job right up your alley. Get yourself up and over to my office. A client’s coming in and he’s asked for you directly. I’ll call your brother in too.”

  Sully knew his brother, Dez Braddock, had planned a drive with his wife and daughter to an old fort a couple of hours out of the city. Eva and Kayleigh both loved history, and they’d been talking about it all week. At least, that’s what Dez had said. Even though he wasn’t a history buff, he adored his family and was happy go anywhere as long as he was with them.

  Sully could picture the mopey scene if Dez got called away now.

  “Dez made plans today,” he said. “I’ll come in to talk to the client, and I’ll fill Dez in later. Does that work?”

  Luckily, Lachlan was in a conciliatory mood. “Sure, why not. I’m easy.”

  Sully wouldn’t go that far, but he wasn’t about to argue the fact. “What time you need me?”

  “Can you make it here by eight? Guy seemed anxious to get moving. Wanted to come as soon as he called, but I politely explained we don’t actually live at the office and would have to get ourselves up and out the door to get there.”

  Great, Sully thought. Another demanding client. “This isn’t going to be like the woman last month, is it? Mrs. Garson?”

  “Oh, he didn’t strike me as that sort,” Lachlan said. “I didn’t get the impression he was trying to be difficult. Honestly, my impression was he’s terrified.”

  Finally earning a steady income and with a small nest egg in his bank account for the first time in his life, Sully had been able to go out and finance his first vehicle.

  Taking into consideration the sometimes-out-of-the-way places the job took them, he’d opted for an SUV. He loved it the way teenagers loved their first car. Though he was twenty-six, the path his life had run meant vehicle ownership had never been a possibility.