Blackthorn Manor Haunting

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Cora nodded.

  “Do you know why?”

  Another nod.

  “Will you tell me who left them there?”

  This time Cora shook her head.

  Why?

  Why won’t she tell me?

  I have to try another way.

  “I’ve seen more than just you and Billy since I arrived here,” Addison said. “The present isn’t always all I see. Sometimes I see the past too.”

  Cora blinked at Addison, intrigued.

  “I saw Joseph in his boat,” Addison continued. “I know what happened to him.”

  Cora’s mouth dropped open, the susurration of her words spreading into the air. She attempted to speak, clasping a hand around her neck when her voice box failed. Silenced in death for decades, speaking came with great difficulty now.

  “Try again,” Addison said.

  Cora made a second attempt, this time managing to squeak out two words. “Tell ... me.”

  “Joseph was caught in the storm. He was trying to get the boat under control, but the sail had ripped. A wave crashed down with such force it split the boat apart, shooting him into the air. When he came down, he was forced underwater. At first I didn’t see him, but after a few minutes, I noticed he’d found his way to the surface and wrapped his body around a piece of debris that had broken off from the boat. He stayed alive for several hours, fighting to hang on, but he was weak, and the water must have been freezing. In the distance, I heard Raymond, but he was still too far away for Joseph to hear him coming, and Joseph couldn’t hang on anymore. I believe he knew he was dying. He spoke a few words at the end—words I’m sure he wished you could have heard him say. He said he was sorry. He said he was trying to make it back to you.”

  Hoping her words brought Cora comfort and a sense of resolve, Addison was shocked when they had the opposite effect.

  Cora released a long, agonizing moan into the air, which erupted into a feverish scream. Fisting her hands, she stretched them out to her sides and gazed up, shrieking at the sky. The gentle breeze gathered, becoming a chill, insatiable wind, spinning and growing, devouring Addison into its core. The winds surged faster and faster, scooping Addison off the ground. She grappled for a tree branch, hooking one of her arms around it, fighting to hold on.

  “I can’t help you this way, Cora!” Addison shouted. “I know it’s hard to accept. I know the pain it has caused you all this time, and I’m sorry. It’s hard to let go of the past, but you have to if you ever want to leave this place. Don’t you want to move on? Don’t you want to be with Joseph again? I’m sure he’s waiting for you right now, waiting for you to go to him so you can be together.”

  “No! You ... don’t ... see. You ... don’t ... see ... anything.”

  “What don’t I see? Tell me!”

  The wind’s strength was too much, Addison’s grip becoming less secure. Splinters from the tree’s branch pierced Addison’s skin, scraping her arm as she struggled to hang on. “Cora, please! You’ll never get what you want this way. Anger won’t bring him back. What’s done is done.”

  Marjorie appeared as if she’d been there all along, holding the black book in her hands. “Enough, Cora! Stop this!”

  “Bring ... him ... to ... me,” Cora demanded.

  Marjorie tossed the book into the air, its pages opening, flapping in the wind. Addison saw Marjorie’s lips move, but she couldn’t make out her words. Marjorie finished and her mouth closed. The book slammed shut, falling back into Marjorie’s waiting hands.

  The wind died down again, and the sky cleared. Addison tumbled to the ground.

  She looked around. Cora was gone.

  Marjorie rushed to her side. “What on earth is going on?”

  Addison motioned toward Cora’s grave, and the flowers, which were now sprinkled all over the yard. “The lock on the gate was broken when I got here, and Cora’s grave was covered in flowers.”

  Marjorie scanned the area. “There must be over two hundred here.”

  “I’m guessing whoever killed Catherine left them, which means whatever happened in the past is tied to the present. This isn’t just about helping Cora move on, anymore, Gran.”

  Marjorie nodded. “Yes, there’s much more going on here than we know. We need to leave this place, Addison. We need to leave this place soon.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Lancaster joined Addison and Marjorie in the backyard. “When I told you the graves were back here, it wasn’t an invitation to break in.”

  “I didn’t,” Addison replied.

  “Then why is the gate open?”

  “The lock was broken when I got to it.” Addison dug into her pocket, depositing the lock into Lancaster’s hand. “Here, see for yourself.”

  He inspected it. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”

  “It wasn’t me. Like I said, it was already broken when I found it.”

  “What are you two doing back here anyway?”

  “Why does it matter?” Marjorie said. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Lancaster raised a brow. “You haven’t done anything wrong ... yet.”

  “We haven’t done anything wrong period.”

  Lancaster glanced around the yard. “Where did all the flowers come from?”

  Addison pointed at Cora’s grave. “Someone left them on Cora’s grave.”

  “Then why are they scattered all over the place?”

  Realizing she should have just answered with a simple “I don’t know,” her mouth moved faster than her mind’s ability to process. “There was a gust of wind, and it blew them around a bit.”

  “A gust of wind? Today? When? There hasn’t been anything but a slight breeze.”

  “The point isn’t why the flowers are in disarray,” Marjorie said. “The point is someone placed them on Cora’s grave deliberately. The bigger question you should be asking is: who put them there?”

  He frowned, and Addison worried what he’d say next.

  “I was just coming back here to let you know I’d like to take Lia to dinner.”

  Given the circumstances, it was the last thing Addison expected him to say.

  “All right,” Addison said.

  “I need you two to get your things moved over to the guesthouse so I can lock up the manor,” he said. “We’re still not finished. I’ll be back tonight, and I expect you all to stay out of there while we’re gone. And by the way, Addison, your husband is looking for you.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Keeping in mind the manor’s walls were thin, and Lia was headed downstairs to leave for dinner when Addison entered the house, Addison decided a text message was her best option to get through to her privately. She passed Lia on the stairs and smiled.

  “Is everything all right?” Lia asked. “Where were you?”

  “In the backyard,” Addison said. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  “I thought the gate was locked.”

  “It was. It isn’t anymore. When you get back, we can talk. I need to get my bags out of the house. Keep your phone close, okay?”

  Lia nodded.

  Addison entered her room and whipped out her phone.

  Addison: Be careful with him.

  Lia: Lancaster?

  Addison: Yes.

  Lia: Why?

  Addison: So much has happened, at this point I don’t trust anyone.

  Lia: But he’s a detective, and a good guy, Addison. I can tell. You can’t really think he’s involved in all of this.

  Addison: I’m as suspicious of him right now as he is of all of us. It goes both ways, believe me.

  Lia: Okay, but I think you’re overreacting.

  Addison: And I think you’re putting a lot of trust into a man you hardly know.

  Lia: Really?!

  Addison: I’m just worried about you being alone with him, that’s all. He may be a detective, but he’s human, just like everyone else.

  Lia: He’s given me no reason to suspect him of being anyone other than the
person he is.

  Addison: I’d like to know where you’re going.

  Lia: For dinner? I don’t know yet.

  Addison: Text me when you do, okay?”

  Lia: Oh ...kay. I just think you’re being ridiculous. And paranoid. It’s just dinner.

  She was right.

  It was just dinner.

  Until it wasn’t.

  CHAPTER 31

  “Where have you been?” Luke asked.

  “I was behind the guesthouses,” Addison said. “There’s a family graveyard back there.”

  “I don’t like what’s going on here. I spoke to Lancaster, and I don’t care what you feel you need to do for Cora, we’re not staying.”

  “We can’t leave, Luke.”

  “Actually, we can. It’s not safe, and you know it.”

  Addison walked to the desk, grabbed a scratchpad and a pen, and wrote: The walls in this place are thin. Anyone lurking around hears everything we say. Let’s talk when we get to the guesthouse.

  Luke walked to the bedroom door, opened it, and looked into the hall. “No one’s there. You’re fine. Talk to me.”

  “No one’s there now,” Addison whispered. “Wait a few minutes, okay? Just long enough for us to get out of this house and for Lia and Lancaster to leave for dinner. Once it’s just you, me, and Gran, we’ll talk.”

  “What’s going on with Lia and Lancaster anyway?”

  Addison widened her eyes, and he waved both hands in front of him. “All right, all right. I get it. Message received. I’ll wait.”

  CHAPTER 32

  “This place is too small,” Marjorie said. “I’m not staying here.”

  “It’s one night, Gran,” Addison said.

  “Well, I’m not sharing a room with Lia. She can take the couch.”

  Luke, who had been leaning against the wall with one leg crossed over the other said, “There’s no point talking about it. We’re going home.”

  “We can’t,” Addison said.

  “If Lancaster has more questions, he can call. We’re only a few hours away, Addison. He’ll be fine.”

  “But he said not to leave.”

  “In this situation, I agree with Luke, Addison,” Marjorie said.

  Addison threw her hands in the air. “Thank you both for your support.”

  “It’s not about support,” Luke said. “It’s about safety.”

  “I said I agree,” Marjorie said, “and I do. However, Addison must see this through now. Cora will remain connected to her until it’s over, until Addison does what she needs her to do so she can move on.”

  “It’s one thing to help her,” Luke said. “It’s another to put herself in danger while doing it. First she’s pushed out the window, and now Catherine is dead. We’re no longer dealing with a spirit—we’re dealing with a murderer.”

  “All I need to do is help Cora,” Addison said. “Once I can get her to move on, I can leave, and the police can take care of the rest.”

  “I don’t want you here any longer,” Luke said.

  Addison took Luke’s hand in hers. “I know how much you want to protect me and keep me safe. I appreciate it, and I don’t blame you. But we talked about this when we first started dating, and you made me a promise. Do you remember?”

  He sighed, then nodded. “I swore I wouldn’t interfere. It’s different this time.”

  “Different doesn’t invalidate your promise, though.”

  “The more these spirits contact you, the more you’re at risk. The situations you’re getting yourself into are starting to get out of hand. These spirits are still here because something tragic happened in their lives. Their tragedies create risk. You can’t expect me to be okay with it. You deserve to be happy. You deserve a normal, happy life.”

  “I didn’t choose this life. It chose me. I’ll admit, it scares me sometimes, but I have to believe a higher power chose the women in my family for a reason and that I’ll be protected when I need to be.”

  He shook his head and walked away. “I’m not sitting here listening to this anymore. I can’t.”

  Addison started after him, and Marjorie grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

  “Let me go to him, Gran,” Addison said. “He’s frustrated because of who we are.”

  “Stay here and get settled into the guesthouse,” Marjorie said. “I’ll go. It’s time the two of us have a talk.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Marjorie found Luke close to the lookout point where Cora had taken her life. He was talking to himself, ranting to the air like a lawyer engaged in a one-sided debate.

  “It’s not my wife’s fault you refuse to move on, Cora,” he said. “If you loved your husband the way I love my wife, then you’ll understand my need to protect her. Keeping her here puts her life in danger. Do you care about the risky situation you’ve put her in, or do you only care about yourself? Addison has tried to help you, and you’ve refused it. Accept her help and move on, or leave her alone.”

  Startled, he looked back, surprised to see Marjorie nearby.

  “Luke, can I talk to you?” Marjorie asked.

  “How long have you been standing there, listening?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Hell, I don’t even know if these spirits can hear anyone except you and Addison, but it’s worth a try. I thought if I stood at the place where she died, I might have a chance to reason with her. Can you see her? Is she here? Or am I just wasting my time?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Why not? If she was here, you would see her, right?”

  Marjorie dug a hand into her lower back, kneading away a sharp, persistent pain that had grown in intensity in recent days. “I’d like to continue this conversation, Luke, but as much as I despise admitting it, I’m getting too old to be on my feet all the time. I need to sit down.”

  “All right.” He scanned the area. Seeing no acceptable options, he removed his jacket, setting it on the ground in front of a boulder. “There. How about that? It won’t be comfortable, but it will give your back a rest.”

  She nodded, and they sat down.

  “I need to tell you something,” she said, “and it’s important you know that I’m telling you before I’ve told Addison. I haven’t found the right time to talk to her yet. Not that there is a right time or a wrong time for such things, but I would appreciate you keeping it to yourself, for now.”

  He scratched his head. “Depends on what it is, Marjorie. I don’t like the idea of keeping secrets from her. You understand, right?”

  She smacked him on the leg. “Of course, I do. It’s one of the reasons I like you so much. You’re good for her, and she needs you, more now than you realize.”

  “If you came here hoping to change my mind, it won’t work.”

  Although his words were firm and honest, once she said what she’d come to say, she was sure it would change everything. “I’m not trying to change your mind.”

  “Why are you here, then?”

  “I’m dying, Luke. Addison is my legacy ... my family’s legacy. Everything we are and continue to be relies on her.”

  “What do you mean—you’re dying?” he said. “Are you sick?”

  “I could be, I suppose. I don’t like doctors. Haven’t been to one in years.”

  “If you haven’t seen a doctor, how do you know?”

  “The abilities I once had are ebbing away. I feel them draining from me, and not just because Addison’s have grown stronger. I can’t see them anymore ... the spirits Addison sees. The ones I used to see. I should have been able to see Cora and Billy, and I can’t. Addison suspects I’ve been keeping something from her. I haven’t confirmed it.”

  “I guess I still don’t understand. What does not seeing spirits have to do with dying?”

  A soft breeze prickled Marjorie’s fragile skin, producing tiny pimples of gooseflesh on her arms. She tugged on her scarf, tightening it around her neck. “When the gift we have to communicate with the dead passes from moth
er to daughter, or grandmother to granddaughter in this case, as Addison’s abilities strengthen, mine diminish, but they don’t vanish completely. Not until the end.”

  “Then what happens?”

  “It might be best explained if I tell you a story from my past.”

  He shrugged. “All right.”

  “I was in my living room one afternoon. This was decades ago, before Addison was even born. Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Blowin’ in the Wind” was playing on the record player. I had a feather duster in my hand, and I was dancing around the house, dusting as I went along. Out the window, I saw my mother’s white Jaguar pull into the drive. She parked and got out of the car, carrying a wallet in one hand and a thick black book in the other. I stared at the book as she walked, having no idea how much it was about to change my life.”

  “What book?”

  “One I gave Addison earlier. It has been in our family for many generations.”

  “How did it change things for you?”

  “After I invited my mother inside that morning, she handed the book to me and said it was time for me to have it. Unlike Addison, I was familiar with it. On a couple of occasions, I had witnessed my mother using it. I knew if she had decided to give it to me, something was wrong. So I asked her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “The opposite of what I expected. Instead of answering my question, she said she was sorry for not telling me she loved me more often over the years. She said she was proud of me, proud of the woman I’d become, and of the way I had parented Nancy, Addison’s mother. My mother was a blunt woman, much like myself, so after she dispensed with the pleasantries, she looked me in the eye and said she wouldn’t be around much longer. She said she was going to die.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “A few weeks earlier, I had encountered a spirit at a hotel we stayed at, but my mother had not seen it, and usually she did. She said she knew her time was almost up because it had been foretold in the book.”