It was almost too much of a coincidence that girls began dying right afterward. Cursed by fire.
It's a theory. Maybe even an insane one. But in a way, it makes sense. Makes sense if I can let my logical brain make the leap and accept the supernatural world exists.
Destiny is sitting up, watching me, head tilted to the side. “What are you thinking?”
It's warm in the room. My heart is racing along like a tiny horse galloping in my chest. “I think it's time to tell everyone. Alfie, Mad, Chloe. Gabe, too. Maybe even Raj. We need to tell them everything we know. Including you being a witch. We need to figure this out and we need all the help we can get.”
Chapter 38
Marguerite: Hillside, 1868
Mrs. Arundel has turned into a frightful biddy, clucking after me, accusing me of setting my cap on David Wirth.
“I have done no such thing!” I say. “He loves me, and I love him.”
In truth, it is not as simple as that. For all that he does profess he loves me, there is Mrs. Wirth threatening to ruin it all. There has been no peace since David told his father of his intention to marry me.
Mr. Wirth, the dear old man, made no objections. “I would have married the girl myself,” he'd said with a sly wink.
When Mr. Wirth conveyed the news of our engagement to his wife, Mrs. Wirth's screams could be heard throughout the house. I could hear her pounding footsteps as she approached my bedroom, where I cowered, alone. When she threw open the door, her eyes were wild. She flew at me with ready fists. But even worse than the violence she directed on my head and face, the words she spat out were shocking to my ears. “Whore! Conniving hedge-creeper!”
“I am but seventeen, ma'am!” I protested. But I was powerless to defend myself. The blows continued. David and his father rescued me, but not soon enough. She left terrible scratches upon my face and my arms.
The woman did look a demon, with her hair come undone and a hateful look twisting her face.
She had to be dragged away. A doctor was called. The physician suggested I be moved to another house in the countryside. “For the young lady’s safety,” he said quietly, so I should not hear. But Mr. Wirth would not have it. Instead, I was given a spacious set of rooms in a little-used part of the house.
David also spoke with Mrs. A. “Marguerite is no longer a maid here,” he told her with great firmness. “She is my betrothed. She is to be treated as a guest in this house.” How I treasured those words when he did relay them.
I so wish I could have seen her face when he set her straight! But that was nothing to the joy I felt when David caught me around the waist in the veranda. He kissed me right there in the bright light of day, surrounded by the glorious smell of flowers from the garden. He gently touched my face, tracing the angry marks left by his mother. “She will not dare touch you again, Marguerite. I will not permit it.”
“But she is your mother, David,” I say into his ear, where his golden hair curls so wonderfully. “How can we marry if she does not approve?”
David lifts my chin until I am looking into his clear brown eyes. “I do not need her approval. She's a difficult woman. There is never any pleasing her. It's likely my father may leave and not return. He's taken up residence with his mistress in San Francisco.”
I gasp at this. But I must also admit that once the shock is over, I am most gratified.
Still, my pleasure at her misfortune—which she has brought upon herself—is short lived. As soon as my dearest David has left for San Francisco to take up work again, I make a shocking discovery.
It is my time of the month and I am forced to keep to my rooms. The blood is heavier than anything I have ever experienced. It's a monstrous, unnatural flow. My back aches fit to kill me. Even Mrs. A is in quite a state over it. She brings me a hot water bottle to sooth my pains. She sends up cups of mint tea, which are soothing but fail to bring me any relief. On the third day, she kneels next to my bed. “Were you with child, my dear?”
“Of course not!” I say, through gritted teeth. I am most offended. As if I would ever behave in such a wanton manner.
A new maid comes to my room with fresh undergarments. She's a kindly Scottish woman with a ready smile.
“I'll put them away for you, poor girl,” she says, bustling over to my dresser. A few seconds later she holds something up to the light. “What's this?”
I crane my neck. Peer at it. It is nothing I have seen before. The woman brings it over and drops it into my lap, her lips pinched tightly together. It is a stick, strangely formed, about six inches long. Twisted around it are blonde hairs. My hair, I am sure.
I look at the maid in confusion. “Where did you find it?”
“It was wrapped in the last pair of your underclothes, miss. A peculiar little bundle. You did not put it there yourself?”
“I did not!” I say. “Someone has been in my room.”
The woman gives it a little poke, as if she's expecting it to spring to life. “It's an evil, foul thing. A hex. Or a curse.”
I stare down at it. “A hex? Why should someone want to hex me?”
The maid gives me a sideways look. “I can think of one such person, and I do believe you could too if you put your mind to it,” she says briskly. Then she pulls a handkerchief from the sleeve of her blouse, picks up the stick and marches toward the door. “I'll bury it, miss,” she says, then leaves.
I lean back against the pillow and close my eyes. Bile billows up into my throat. I feel dizzy, almost ready to faint. For it can only be Mrs. Wirth who would do such a thing. She hates me for stealing her son away from her. For that is how she thinks of me. Not as a future daughter to help her in her old age. But as dangerous as any mistress plotting to steal her man.
For that she has resorted to placing a curse upon me.
I fear what the evil woman will do next.
Chapter 39
We meet at Gabe's house.
It's obvious everyone is uncomfortable with the location, but it's the only place we can talk without someone barging in.
Alfie is pale when he walks in with Chloe. Seeing Mary McKissick dead, burned, is still messing with his head. Nicole's house is the last place he wants to be, but he won't admit it. Gabe takes one look at Alfie and pours him a shot of whiskey. This is the first time I've seen Gabe touch a bottle of alcohol. He doesn't offer any to the rest of us and no one asks.
The drink brings the color back to Alfie's complexion. “Thanks, man,” he says gratefully.
We gather around the large kitchen table. Chloe brought homemade brownies and peanut butter cookies. I pull out a bag of churros and add that to the pile. Destiny sighs and reaches for one. Gabe pulls out a shiny espresso machine from a cupboard and begins making lattes.
Raj is there too. Alfie insisted he had a right to know about our meeting and Raj insisted on coming. It's the first time I've seen him since Mary died. His expression is sad but determined.
Gabe is looking a bit dazed and for good reason. I arrived early and told him about Nicole's plan to summon a spirit at the Wirth Mansion. There is no way I wanted to surprise him with something like that.
“You actually think she pulled it off?” Gabe said, clearly shocked. I told him I thought it was a strong possibility.
Having explained it once, I am better prepared to tell the others. But first, I start off with what I'd learned about the haunted history of the Wirth Mansion, then I move to the strange connections between the girls: each lived close to the mansion and had visited the place before they died.
Raj begins taking deep breaths and for a moment, I think he's going to hyperventilate. “I took her there,” he gasps.
Madison leaps up and pours him a glass of water. “It's not your fault, Raj,” she says sternly. Raj nods and sips his water.
I continue, explaining the discovery of a witch's altar in Nicole's bedroom. Everyone is leaning forward now, elbows on the table.
“We think Nicole conjured a spirit,” I say, sittin
g back in my chair. Now comes the tricky part.
“Who's we?” Alfie says. His gaze flicks around the table. Madison shrugs. Chloe's eyebrows are raised. Raj looks lost. Destiny hunkers down in her chair, nervous about what’s to come.
“Me and Destiny. But she's the expert, really.”
Heads swivel to stare at Destiny. She's pulled herself together since the last time I saw her. Her thick blonde hair is freshly washed and hangs in loose waves. She's wearing a purple sweater instead of her usual black.
Alfie is looking at us through narrowed eyes. “An expert in what?”
Destiny stands up and pushes her shoulders back. “I have something to announce. I’m a practicing Witch.” She’s interrupted by a barking laugh. Destiny glares at Madison, then continues. “I’m still learning though. And before anyone else starts laughing, this is not a joke. And it’s important to me, so I'd appreciate it if you would respect my choice." Chloe looks stung.
Destiny pauses. “It's a long story and I'll explain later, but there's something else I didn't tell you. I knew Nicole.” She pauses. “Sort of.”
When Destiny finishes sharing how they'd met and answering all the questions everyone has, she continues. “Nicole must have had a natural gift, because from what I know, trying to summon a spirit isn't easy and it takes lots of practice. Like, years. I can't be one hundred percent positive she did it, but I'm sure she tried. Sam and Gabe asked me to check Nicole’s room. I found some how-to books in the back of her bookcase and stuff she'd written called invocations. Plus, it looks like she'd taken an old photo from the mansion, one of the Wirth family.”
“Samantha recognized it from the book she'd read about the place,” Gabe offers.
“What would Nicole want with the picture?” Madison asks, bristling with indignation. “And she had no right to take it.”
Destiny sits down. “She was trying to make a connection with a spirit. One way to do that is to take something from where the spirit lives and put it in your shrine. She also might have gone to the mansion and left little offerings. Gabe found one of her notebooks which had a conjuring ritual written out, or at least, that's what it looks like to me.”
Chloe clears her throat. “Why would Nicole even want to raise a ghost? Is that something witches do? No offense. I just don't get it.”
Destiny frowns, runs a hand through her hair. “I wouldn't, but Nicole would.” She pauses, glances at Gabe to gauge his reaction. When he smiles tightly and shrugs, she continues. “She might have wanted to show off her powers, let everyone know on the forum she did it. Maybe she planned to prove it some way. Or she might have wanted the ghost to do something for her.”
Alfie slaps the table and stands up. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. This is going to sound a little crazy. If what you said is true, that Nicole conjured a ghost, then what we are really talking about is that somehow, this ghost has gone rogue and killed these girls, or maybe Nicole accidentally unleashed some kind of curse. Let's just assume that for a second. Then what we need to do is what Destiny just said. Prove it. We need to prove there's a ghost at the Wirth Mansion.”
Alfie stops and looks around the table expectantly.
Madison is the first to recover. “You mean like one of those stupid ghost hunting shows?”
“That's exactly what I'm talking about.” Alfie's eyes are gleaming at the prospect.
Madison folds her arms in front of her chest. “Are you saying we need to camp out at the Wirth Mansion where, in case you forgot, I work? Because they will never give us permission to do that.”
“But you can get us in, Mad,” Chloe says. “Right? After everybody goes home. Remember when we went one night because you forgot your wallet? You know the security code.”
Madison's eyes snap wide open. “Are you serious? You actually think this is something we should do? Have you lost your mind?”
Chloe doesn't hesitate. “I know you don't think ghosts are real, but I do. So yes, if there is a ghost at the Wirth Mansion and it's responsible for killing Mary and Monica and Gabe's sister and Emily Miller, it's not like we can call the police and tell them. They won’t take it seriously. So we don’t have a choice. We need to look into this ourselves.”
Raj drains the last of his water, then stands up. “I think we should do it. For Mary.” At this, Madison flinches.
“Should we vote?” Alfie says.
Destiny nods. The idea of looking for a ghost at the Wirth Mansion turns my fingers cold. Gabe must sense my uneasiness because he scoots his chair next to mine and slings his arm over my shoulder. We vote. All in favor. Even Madison, who slowly raises her hand, pressing her lips together.
“Good,” Chloe says. “We're going to need to document this. Audio and video. Does anyone know where we can get some equipment?”
Alfie looks at me. “Didn't you say your new neighbor is a film nerd? That Daniel guy?” Gabe's hand does a little involuntary twitch on my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I say. “Daniel's got enough to make a whole movie, but I don't think he'd let us borrow it. It's expensive stuff.”
We debate this for a while. In the end, we decide we should let Daniel in on our plan since none of us are confident enough in our video skills. Madison reluctantly agrees to sneak us in after hours on Sunday.
The one thing we don’t do is talk about what happens if we find a spirit.
When I mention this to Alfie, he shrugs. “We're winging it.”
Chapter 40
Daniel agrees to shoot video of our ghost hunt.
It’s a bit tricky, trying to decide how much to tell him. In the end, I stick with the basics: me and my friends believe it's possible a spirit is responsible for the death of the four girls in Hillside, but first we need to prove the ghost exists.
“And you want me to catch it on camera?” he asks, scratching his scruffy jaw.
“Exactly.”
He cocks his head. Studies me through narrowed eyes. “This isn't some kind of joke, right? You're serious? Because this sounds like a whole lot of bullshit, if I'm being totally honest with you.”
I hold up my hands. “No, honestly, it's real. And we need your help.”
It takes him a while, pacing around his kitchen, before he relents. “Okay. I'm down. But the second someone jumps out of a closet with a sheet over their head, I'm out of there. And if I get anything, I'll give you a copy, but I own the rights to the video.”
Since the chance of capturing a ghost on video is close to zero, I don’t bother talking about what we might do with the video if we get lucky. Like showing it to the police. Or posting it online or trying to sell it to Hollywood. Or burying it forever.
It's Sunday and our plan is set.
As Daniel is loading up his car with equipment I walk out of my house with my overnight bag, pretending to be heading to Alfie's for the night. It had all worked out perfectly. His parents are spending the night in the city and Vanessa asked my mother if I could keep him company since he’s still upset about finding Mary McKissick. My mom agreed. Instead, I go to Gabe's and together we drive the short distance to the Wirth Mansion.
When we pull into a small parking lot hidden from the street, Madison is there leaning against her car, arms folded across her chest. Destiny is looking at her phone. Raj is walking around the parking lot, hands stuck in the pockets of his hoodie. Alfie is prowling around the hedges while Chloe takes pictures of the mansion.
Daniel soon drives up. When he gets out, he freezes and stares at Madison. She's wearing old jeans, a sweatshirt and no make-up, but she still manages to look like an off-duty model. She straightens up. Adjusts her ponytail.
All of this is not lost on Gabe. “Uh oh,” he whispers into my ear. On the way over, he'd asked a few more questions than were necessary about Daniel, and if I'm not mistaken, there's a note of relief in his voice now.
I squeeze his arm. “I'll go introduce them. Otherwise they'll just keep standing there with their mouths open.”
It's yet anot
her awkward situation with Daniel. He gives Madison a stiff, almost cold “hello” and then walks away to open the trunk of his car. Madison's eyes widen. She's not used to being ignored by guys. Mostly because they can't resist making jokes about her height, especially if they’re shorter. But Daniel isn't. He's taller, which is rare, and it's clear she's thrown off balance by his mixed signals.
“Do I look like shit?” she whispers.
“Of course not. I think he's just shy.”
That's all Madison needs to hear. She joins the others helping unload the boxes of equipment from the car. As we head up the path, I can hear her asking Daniel how he got interested in filmmaking.
It's nearly dark out. The mansion looms before us.
Floodlights make the cream-colored walls strangely luminous in the dusk. The arches of the grand entrance are untouched by the light. The space beneath them is a yawning blackness that makes me drag my feet, reluctant to get too close.
I'm amazed that no one is showing any signs of nervousness. Not even Destiny, who's always hated the place. Her expression is one of grim determination. She's wearing a fleece vest that looks like an animal skin. For once, she looks more like a Viking warrior than Madison does. Alfie can barely contain his excitement. Chloe is walking backwards, snapping away with her camera. She's doing her part to document our experiment with the supernatural.
When Madison leads us around to the side of the mansion, I feel an enormous sense of relief. I'd been dreading passing under the dark, looming arches. We enter through the staff lounge. It's dark inside, but we've come prepared. We take out our flashlights and flick them on. Madison made it clear we needed to keep most of the lights off to avoid attention.
Madison leads us down a wide, long hallway. She points at a set of stairs. “Down there's a secret passageway. The servants used it. I'll show you later.”
The Box in The Cuts: A Supernatural Mystery Page 15