“It’s definitely not a science,” I said.
“It took me a month to notice you and your husband had moved into this house,” she said. “Similarly, I did not realize my own husband had returned. I have yet to encounter him.”
A portrait of Percy Abram hung on the wall. I turned on my phone light and studied the picture. “So he’s the stalker, huh? No wonder he won’t leave the house. He must feel like it’s still his. No one’s going to believe this.”
Penelope snapped her fingers to regain my attention. “Listen to me. The only reason I know about Percy is because he’s affecting Alyssa. She, unlike me, is more tuned into his presence, and she hasn’t been herself ever since he returned here. You should know. She’s projecting on that boy.”
“Who, Sammy?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Alyssa’s friend. If you didn’t notice from his little freakout at dinner, he’s getting worse. That’s because Alyssa is getting worse. The two of them are connected. Sammy won’t be at peace until Alyssa is, and if they don’t find that peace soon, I fear both of them will descend into madness.”
“Madness, huh?”
“This is not a joke,” Penelope said. “If Percy gets his way, you’ll be dead too. Mark my words.”
29
As always, Penelope vanished without warning, leaving me to find my own way back to the wing of the house I actually lived in. I was wide awake, mulling over all the things Penelope had told me. This ghost stuff wasn’t an exact science. From what I gathered, Penelope and Alyssa had less control over their own apparitions and emotions than I originally thought. And then there was the matter of Percy Abram. According to Penelope, he had returned to the house, but she wasn’t able to see him. A blind spot, per se.
I paused at my bedroom to check on Sammy and let out a sigh of relief when I saw him sleeping safely in bed. A second later, I jumped out of my skin. Alyssa sat at the end of Sammy’s bed, half-hidden in the shadows. Moonlight reflected off of the tears on her cheeks.
“Alyssa?” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”
Her fingers hovered over Sammy’s feet, as if she wished she had the tactile ability to tickle his toes. “Everything.” She wiped her tears on her nightgown and moved away from Sammy. “Keep him safe. Please.”
“I am. Alyssa, wait—!”
She, too, popped out of existence. All that remained of her was a cold draft. I covered Sammy’s shoulders and tucked the blanket underneath his feet. It floored me that he slept through the night with Alyssa at his bedside. Every time I felt a ghost nearby, it gave me goose bumps.
I pushed Sammy’s hair back, pondering Alyssa and Penelope’s warnings. “What’s happening?” I muttered. “Am I going to lose you? I can’t do that, Sammy. Your mother would kill me.”
Sammy, of course, didn’t answer. He slept on, blissfully unaware of the stress that crept through the mansion like a horde of spiders. I left him be, knowing it was unfair of me to loom over him like an extra ghost. With my shoebox of letters from Grandpa, I went into the foyer to spend the evening by myself.
With a huff, I lowered myself onto the sofa and wrapped the throw blanket around me. I chose the next letter in the box and carefully tore it open. One by one, I was working my way through them from the newest to the oldest ones. It was an eye-opening experience. For all the times my mother and grandmother had told me that Andrew had abandoned his family, there was a letter from him apologizing for his absence. Though he never revealed the reason for his disappearance, it was plain to see he had not severed all connections as my family had had me believe.
Halfway through another birthday letter—one from my sixteenth that was accompanied by a large check I wished I’d had the opportunity to cash back then—the lock in the front door clicked. My heart stopped and restarted when I remembered that Ben had been out late last night.
“Hey,” I said when I heard the door brush against the rug in the entryway. “How were drinks with your soon-to-be boss?”
“Excuse me?”
I glanced over my shoulder. It was not Ben, but Basil who had come into the house in the middle of the night unannounced. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know you had a key.”
“You gave one to Della,” Basil said, stomping his boots on the mat to make sure he didn’t track mud into the house. “In case of emergencies.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked him. “Did the doctors call you?”
“Not yet,” he answered. “I couldn’t sleep though, and I’ve run out of tea at the airstream. Yet another problem with my wife being indisposed. I don’t have her wonderful healing hand to help me.”
His voice broke on the last sentence, persuading me out of my seat. I guided him from the entryway and into the foyer, where I made him sit in front of the empty fireplace. “Wait here. I’ll get you some tea. I think we have a little left over from Della’s last batch.”
In the kitchen, I found a single sachet of Della’s homemade tea, so I put the kettle on. After the water boiled, I let the sachet seep for an extra minute so Basil’s tea would be a bit stronger than normal. Hopefully, it would soothe his fears about his wife, but I had a terrible, instinctive feeling that Della would never wake up. I took a moment to compose myself before returning to the foyer.
“Here you go,” I said, handing the cup to Basil. “Careful. It’s piping hot.”
Basil blew across the surface, took a tentative sip, then set the mug on the coffee table. “Ah, that’s good. Thank you.”
I settled down next to him, pulling the knitted throw over my knees. Despite the spring weather, it was drafty in the mansion. “Basil, can I pick your brain about something?”
“Sure, honey.”
“You’ve lived here for a while, right? You know about Percy Abram and Andrew Anderson and all that business?”
Basil tipped his head. “A bit, I suppose. We moved here after all that hubbub had subsided, but it’s impossible to live in a town like Falconwood without learning of its history.”
“Did Della tell you her hunch about Percy Abram?”
“Let me guess,” he said, leaning back against the sofa. “She told you she thinks he’s still alive.”
“You think she’s wrong?”
Basil struggled not to roll his eyes. “I love my wife. I really do. But when it comes to this house and the people who used to live in it, she’s always been a bit—” He made a funny whirling motion with his hand. “It’s a conspiracy theory. Percy Abram was declared dead a long time ago. Why go digging up the past? What’s the point?”
“Because he killed his wife and daughter.” I was done dancing around the subject. The time to be open was long past due. “Maybe you think Della’s out of her mind, but it’s not true. I’ve been going through the facts, and—”
“Why?” Basil demanded, his voice rising. “Why would you do that? I knew it was a mistake bringing Della here. The two of you are too similar, always sticking your noses where you don’t belong. Just let it go!”
His voice echoed to the top of the mezzanine. I slid an inch or two away from him but kept my ground.
“I can’t let it go,” I said, “because it’s affecting the people around me. Riddle me this, Basil. If Percy Abram isn’t alive, then who’s the man who keeps breaking into the mansion and trying to kill me?”
“That,” Basil said, darting close to my face, “is your absolute dolt of a grandfather. And he’s not trying to kill you. He’s trying to tell you about me.”
He lunged across the sofa and wrapped his hands around my neck, pressing his thumbs against my windpipe. Caught completely off guard, I didn’t think to defend myself. I just sat there with Basil’s full weight on top of me, his knee in my stomach. The blood rushed to my face, but he was holding off. I knew why: he wanted me to realize who he really was.
“Y-you?” I choked out. “You’re Percy Abram?”
His lips tweaked into a smirk, and I noticed the slightest gap between his teeth, the same gap I’d seen in old photos an
d portraits. No wonder Basil only ever cast tight-lipped smiles. It was a dead giveaway, but there wasn’t much else to pinpoint him as the old owner of the Abram estate.
“I did an excellent job of disguising myself, wouldn’t you say?” he said, his pride evident in his braggartly tone. “It took some work. I dyed my hair a different color, and I had a plastic surgeon alter my nose. I had a deviated septum anyway, so I thought two birds with one stone, eh?”
“Why would you ever come back here?” I fought against his hold, but he was too strong. “After what you did to Penelope and Alyssa?”
“I came back because I’ve been waiting for this very moment,” he replied. “You only figured out bits and pieces of the story, my dear. Everyone thinks your grandfather and I were the best of friends, and we were until he betrayed me.”
“He knew, didn’t he?” I gasped. “He found out you were abusing your family.”
“And like you, he inserted himself into business that wasn’t his,” Basil snarled. His nails dug into the skin of my neck. “I have no idea how long he was watching me, how long he was conferring with my wife behind my back.”
“That’s why he moved to Falconwood,” I said, realization engulfing me. “To protect Penelope and Alyssa.”
“They didn’t need his protection!”
“Shut up! Sammy’s asleep.”
To his credit, Basil—Percy, whatever—actually checked the hallway to the bedroom to make sure Sammy hadn’t woken up. Then again, Sammy’s unconsciousness worked to Basil’s advantage. He didn’t need a witness to this.
“Ben will be home any minute,” I warned him. “We’re right in front of the door, Basil. He’ll see everything. You won’t get away with this.”
A creepy smile spread across Basil’s face. “Oh, I think I will. You see, I was the one who sent Ben to Hartford. I hired ‘Mike’ to keep him busy, and when he arrived home an hour ago—yes, an entire hour—I caught him from behind.”
“No,” I begged. “You’re lying.”
“I can drag you to the window if you like,” Basil said, “so you can see his body in the yard. I hit him with the same rolling pin I used to dispose of my precious wife.”
“You attacked Della?”
“She was a flaw in the plan,” Basil said. “I knew it as soon as I saw that magazine article you’d given to her. I helped Andrew write that article. When she read it, she connected the dots, and she came into the house to warn you about me. I couldn’t have that, could I?”
“You tried to kill your own wife.”
“I’d done it once before. I had the strength to do it again.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m committed,” Basil hissed through his teeth. “The problem is that no one ever commits to me the way I have for them. Not my first wife, who bedded some other piece of work. Not my daughter, who began to fear me before she started school. Not Della, who cared more for this house than she did for me—”
“Because you’re an ass,” I replied. “And a madman. No wonder my grandfather had to step in—”
My voice cut off with a splutter as he tightened his grip around my throat again. “Your grandfather was a traitor, watching me for years. I couldn’t possibly continue living in Falconwood, so I faked my own death and set off to get the best of your grandfather. Unfortunately, he was always one step ahead of me. He disappeared in the blink of an eye, so I waited an appropriate amount of time then returned to Falconwood as a different person to watch over my estate. Then, of course, you showed up. I thought it was a fluke, but now I understand. Your grandfather lured you here on purpose.”
Eyes streaming, I gasped, “To get rid of you?”
“To ruin my reputation,” Basil snarled. “To destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to rebuild. I was a fool to leave this house to Andrew, but it was too late to alter my will. The decision became my ultimate downfall. For years, I’ve been waiting for him to return to it, watching from that pitiful little van.”
“So the airstream isn’t your dream home after all?”
“This” —he gestured grandly to the mezzanine— “is my dream home. I never wished to leave it, and after I’m through with you, I won’t ever have to again.”
I scoffed with what little air was left in my lungs. “Good luck with that.”
“You’re mocking me?” he said, letting enough pressure off of my throat to let me draw breath again.
“You killed two people,” I reminded him. “Plus you’ve attacked me, Ben, and Della. You think the police are going to let that go so you can live in your dream home?”
“The police won’t find out,” he said. “Hillary’s the only one of them with half a brain. I’ll convince them the local stalker made his way into the house once again, that he murdered you and Ben, leaving only me alive in the airstream.”
“Sammy—”
“Ah, you would be worried for the boy.” Basil tsked and shook his head. “Don’t you see? I can’t leave him alive, Peyton. He’s a loose end. What if he’s listening at the bedroom door right now? Don’t worry though. He and Alyssa can stay friends. After all, those who die in this house can never leave it.”
“You know?” I said. “About Penelope and Alyssa?”
“Of course I know,” Basil spat. “Della went on and on about them for years. I thought she was delusional until she began recounting things about my family she never could have known without meeting them. Personally, I’ve never seen them, and I’m glad of that. To look at my wife’s face again after she’s soiled herself with another man?” He shuddered. “Disgusting.”
“But killing her isn’t?”
He sat back on his heels, loosening his hold on me yet again, almost as if he was lowering his defenses. He didn’t expect me to put up a fight, not when he had taken everything from me. “You’re hyper-fixated on the murder aspect. Think of what they did to me. But you don’t understand either, do you? That’s why I’m going to enjoy killing you, Peyton.”
“Like hell you are!”
The deep declaration came out of nowhere, as did the enormous figure that catapulted over the back of the sofa and knocked Basil off of me. I took a deep, gasping breath as the two men landed on the coffee table. The legs of it flattened beneath their weight, and the glass top shattered. As the men wrestled, I flung myself off of the sofa and made a run for the bedroom. Sammy was finally awake, sitting straight up in bed.
“Peyton?” he asked groggily. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t you dare leave this room,” I commanded. “Promise me!”
He held up a hand as if he were swearing on the Bible. “I promise!”
I locked the door from the inside, slammed it shut, and made sure the handle was fixed in place. To get to Sammy, Basil would have to bust the door down or go through the courtyard to break the window. Anything to slow him down—
A hand came down on my shoulder. I screamed, but when I whirled around, it wasn’t Basil who stood behind me. It was the same man I’d seen at my window and in the house a few times before.
“He took off up the mezzanine,” the man said. “But he’ll find us again. He knows this house better than anyone else. Our best bet is to hold down the fort in the foyer. Come on.”
He took me by the elbow but applied no force. Ultimately, it was my decision whether or not to follow the tall stranger into the center of the house. Something instinctive drove me to go with him.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” I whispered as we rushed down the hallway. “Andrew Anderson?”
He tossed a mischievous wink over his shoulder. “You’re a marvelous human being, Peyton. I wish I’d been around to watch you grow up.”
“All this time,” I said, “Mom and Grandma told me you had abandoned them, but you were trying to steer clear of Basil.”
“Percy,” he corrected. He led me into the foyer and dragged the sofa against the wall. He gestured for me to join him behind it. If Basil came into the foyer again, he wouldn’t immediat
ely be able to see us. “And yes, you’re correct. I gave up my family to bring this one peace. It was a difficult choice to make.”
“You can see Penelope and Alyssa too?”
“On rare occasion,” he replied. “I’ve spent most of my life trying to track Percy down. He threw me off for quite a while, what with the name change and all. Do you have your phone? We should call the police before he returns.”
I checked my pockets then grimaced. “It’s locked in the bedroom with Sammy.”
“The child is here?”
“His mom’s out of town.”
Andrew’s beard rustled around his mouth. “Damn. That changes everything. We gotta get the kid out of here.” Something tinkled overhead on the mezzanine. Both of us snapped our heads up to look. Andrew muttered something under his breath. “He’s watching us. Can you get Sammy on your own? If Percy comes back this way, I want to be ready for him.”
“Are you sure—?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have your back. Sammy’s the priority. We have to keep him safe.”
I nodded firmly, scanned the mezzanine for any sign of Basil, then crept out from behind the sofa. As soon as I cleared the foyer, thunderous footsteps came up behind me, and I burst into a run to reach the hallway. The sofa scraped across the floor as Andrew made his move. Once again, he tackled Basil. As they went down, someone’s fingers clutched my ankle. Stumbling, I yanked myself free, but my ankle twisted and popped.
“Go!” Andrew yelled.
A second later, he let out a groan of pain, but I didn’t look behind me to see what had happened. I limped into the hallway, reached the bedroom, and hammered on the door.
“Sammy?” I called. “It’s me, Peyton! Unlock the door.”
“You just told me not to come out,” came the small voice from the other side.
The Haunting of Abram Mansion Page 39