Blackthorn Manor Haunting

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “All right. I’ll wait here with Marjorie. Thank him for me, would you?”

  Addison stepped inside the manor, called out Gene’s name. He didn’t reply. She shouted his name a second time. Still nothing.

  Whitney exited the kitchen, carrying a plate containing a sandwich and a green salad. “Is everything okay?”

  “I was looking for Gene. I wanted to say goodbye.”

  “I think he went to his study. I was just taking him lunch. Follow me.”

  The thought of revisiting the spot where Catherine took her last breath made Addison squeamish. “Won’t we have to go through Catherine’s room to get there?”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Whitney said. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve taken care of it.”

  Taken care of it?

  It wasn’t until they entered the bedroom that Addison understood her meaning. A thick, burgundy blanket had been spread over the area where Catherine died, concealing the bloodstains, but not the memory. The memory would remain forever.

  “I can’t stop Gene from reliving what happened here,” Whitney said, “but until the floor is replaced, he doesn’t need a constant reminder.”

  They entered the closet and stood at the top of the stairs.

  “Gene, I have Addison with me,” Whitney said. “We’re coming down.”

  When Gene didn’t reply, Whitney shrugged, and they walked in, finding him hunched over his desk. A bottle of whiskey rested a few inches in front of him next to an empty glass.

  “Is he sleeping?” Addison whispered.

  “Think so. After all he’s been through, I don’t blame him. He’s exhausted.”

  “I don’t want to wake him. Just tell him I said goodbye, okay?”

  Whitney glanced at the food plate. “And I’ll wrap this up for later. He probably doesn’t have a big appetite right now, anyway.”

  Whitney leaned closer, reaching for the glass in front of him. The plate slid off her hand, hurdling toward the floor. “Uhh ... Addison ...?”

  “What is it?”

  Whitney lifted a piece of paper, holding it up for Addison to read.

  Forgive me.

  My life means nothing without Catherine.

  CHAPTER 44

  Addison felt for a pulse, but there was none. She turned to Whitney, shaking her head.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” Whitney said. “Not again. This can’t be happening again.”

  “It may be different this time,” Addison said. “Gene appears to have taken his own life.”

  Whitney lifted a cell phone out of the pocket of her apron. “I’ll call the police.”

  “Good idea.”

  Addison’s thought switched to something else—the method of his murder. There was no gunshot wound, no actual sign of injury. She studied Gene’s desk. The top drawer was partially open. She reached for the handle and pulled it back, finding a small container about the size of a pill bottle tipped to the side over a stack of paper. It looked innocent enough, until she pulled it closer, inspecting the label.

  “Police are on their way,” Whitney said. “What did you find?”

  Addison showed her the bottle. “Potassium cyanide.”

  Whitney clapped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe he would ... it’s unbelievable. I mean, I know he was grieving, but to end his life?”

  On the wall across from Gene’s desk were a series of framed drawings of trees, each one pertaining to a family member in the Blackthorn genealogical line. Addison gazed at each one, pausing when she looked at Joseph’s. “Whitney, have you ever looked at these before?”

  “Not really. I only know what Catherine told me.”

  Addison lifted Joseph’s family tree off the wall and pointed to a name. “Do you know who this is?”

  Whitney leaned in to get a better look. “Cameron. Yeah, I mean, I don’t know much, but Catherine mentioned him to me once. It was on her birthday last year. It’s one of the only times she ever allowed herself to drink. Two glasses of wine in, and she opened right up. I learned all kinds of things. It was actually how we bonded.”

  “What did she tell you about him?”

  Before Whitney could answer, the sound of Luke’s voice rang through the house. “Addison? Where are you?”

  “Down here,” Addison shouted, “in Gene’s office.”

  Addison hung the picture frame back on the wall.

  Her interrogation would have to wait.

  She walked up the stairs, finding Luke and Colin in the hallway outside of Catherine’s room.

  “I didn’t know Gene had an office,” he said.

  “I’ll explain later. Right now, you need to see what’s happened.”

  The three of them joined Whitney in Gene’s office.

  Addison pointed at Gene. “I don’t think we’ll be leaving yet, Luke. Gene’s dead.”

  Frustrated, Luke whipped around. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. We found him like this. There was a bottle of cyanide in his top drawer, which leads me to believe he wrote a suicide note and then poisoned his whiskey.”

  Colin wrapped his arms around a trembling Whitney, pulling her into an embrace.

  “I know how much Gene loved Catherine,” Colin said, “but I never thought he would take his own life.”

  “I thought the same thing,” Whitney said.

  Luke ran a hand down his face. “Well, I suppose we’re not leaving then.”

  Addison shook her head. “I don’t think we should. Not until we know what happened.”

  CHAPTER 45

  Lancaster entered Gene’s study with Marjorie in tow. The six of them stood around Gene, taking it all in.

  “I’m beginning to think you don’t want to leave as much as you say you do,” Lancaster said. “It hasn’t been more than thirty minutes since I left here. What is it with you people? And who wants to explain what happened this time?”

  Addison volunteered, filling Lancaster in on how Gene was found, the suicide note, and the bottle she’d found inside his desk.

  “This just doesn’t feel right,” Lancaster said. “I had a nice talk with Gene on the way here this morning. He told me after Catherine’s funeral, he planned to live with his widowed sister in Harwich. If he wanted to kill himself, why would he go to the trouble of lying to me about it? He had nothing to gain.”

  CHAPTER 46

  There was a small, but important detail Addison had overlooked, a comment Catherine had made in the vision Addison had the night she’d first met Billy.

  She’s under enough stress as it is, with the baby coming.

  The baby.

  How could she have forgotten?

  The day of Joseph’s disappearance Cora was pregnant, and not with Raymond’s daughter. She wouldn’t come until a couple of years later. Addison had never thought to ask what had become of Cora and Joseph’s baby. Had he died? And if so, why had the date beneath his name on the family tree shown only a birth date and nothing else?

  While Lancaster inspected the office, Addison went looking for Whitney. She found her by the ocean. Her arms were crossed in front of her, head bowed as if she was in prayer.

  “Whitney, are you all right?” Addison asked.

  Whitney’s cheeks were sticky and red, her face damp with tears. “It finally felt like I had a family, you know? Like we had a family. And now it’s all been stripped away.”

  “You still have Colin.”

  “Not just Colin.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Whitney smoothed her dress over her abdomen, revealing the smallest swelling in her belly. “I’m three months pregnant. I mean, I never thought I could have a child at my age, or that I’d want a child again, but God has a different plan for me.”

  “That’s great news. Does anyone else know?”

  “Colin does, and now you. He’s excited. We were planning on making a life here, but it wouldn’t be the same now, not with Gene and Catherine both gone.”

  “Whitney,
did you know Catherine planned to sell the manor?”

  She nodded. “We talked about it a few times. She always said if she sold it, she’d make a side deal for the sale of the guesthouse so we could keep it if we wanted it. She’d actually made a deal with Harvey Caplan for us to buy the one and for her and Gene to keep the other. This way she’d still have access to the family gravesite while she was still living.”

  “I know you’re hurting right now, and I’m sorry,” Addison said. “I was hoping I could ask a few questions about Cameron, if you’re up to it.”

  “I mean, I’m not, but it doesn’t matter. What do you want to know?”

  “Cora was pregnant with Cameron the day Joseph went out on his boat, right?”

  Whitney shrugged. “I think so.”

  “What can you tell me about Cameron?”

  “He lived at the manor until Cora committed suicide.”

  Addison thought back to the birth date she’d seen on the family tree. 1964. That meant he would have been five at the time of Cora’s death. “What happened after her death?”

  “Raymond left, taking the daughter he’d had with Cora, but because Cameron was his brother’s child, he didn’t consider him to be his, and he left him behind. Catherine woke to find a note from Raymond saying he’d gone and that Cameron was now her responsibility.”

  Addison assumed Raymond’s reason for leaving the boy had more to do with his guilt over killing the boy’s father than anything else. Keeping Cameron around would have been a constant reminder of his sin, a reminder he had endured while Cora was alive, but felt no longer obligated to after her death.

  “Did Catherine and Gene raise Cameron, then?”

  Whitney shook her head. “Catherine couldn’t bear to be around children after Billy died, and even though it wasn’t Cameron’s fault, she just wasn’t capable of raising him.”

  “What happened to Cameron then? Where is he?”

  “Catherine had no other living family, so she asked Gene to find an orphanage, or somewhere Cameron could go and have a better life. The day Gene left with him she said she didn’t want to know where he took him and never wanted to speak of it again.”

  “One last question,” Addison said. “How long has the gardener been working here?”

  Whitney looked up, thinking. “Brad? Two or three months. The previous gardener just stopped showing up one day.”

  “Where did she find Brad?”

  Whitney considered the question. “You know something—I don’t know.”

  CHAPTER 47

  If Addison wanted to know what happened to Cameron, she needed to talk to someone who knew the story. With Catherine and Gene dead, Raymond in jail, Lancaster hard at work trying to figure out whether Gene’s death was a murder or a suicide, there was only one other person who might have the answers she needed—Lancaster’s father.

  Addison was reluctant to leave Marjorie, but Marjorie encouraged her, saying after all that had gone on over the past few days, she’d rather stay back and relax.

  When Luke and Addison arrived, they hadn’t even made it to the door before it opened.

  “Can I help you two?” the man asked.

  “Are you Lyle Lancaster?”

  “Depends. Who are you?”

  “I’m Addison, and this is my husband, Luke. We’re staying at Blackthorn Manor.”

  Directing his attention to Addison, he said, “Ahh. You must be the troublemaker my son has been telling me about. What are you doing here?”

  “Have you talked to your son today?”

  “If you’re asking if I know Gene’s dead, I do. My son texted me. And if you’re asking whether or not he killed himself, he didn’t.”

  “Has your son found something?”

  “Not yet, but he will.”

  “I don’t believe Gene took his own life, either,” Addison said. “Over the past few days, I’ve learned a lot about the Blackthorn family history. There’s one thing I’m curious about, and I think you might be the only one who can answer my questions.”

  Lyle laughed. “My son said you like to be in the middle of things.”

  “She doesn’t,” Luke said. “All she wants to do is—”

  Lyle waved a hand in front of him. “Now calm down there, son. No need to get cross. I’m not making an accusation.”

  He turned, disappearing into the house, leaving Addison and Luke standing outside, wondering what to do next.

  “He left the door open,” Addison said. “Do you think we’re supposed to follow him?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s kinda hard to read.”

  Lyle’s voice echoed outside. “I’ve got pasta cooking on the stove. You two lovebirds coming in, or what?”

  CHAPTER 48

  “What is it I can help you with?” Lyle asked.

  Addison hadn’t heard the question. She was too busy gawking at Lyle’s living room. The walls were plain and white, his mahogany hardwood floor polished, with furniture consisting of a brown leather sofa and matching chair. A flat-screen TV befitting a man who lived alone hung on the wall, but it was the items across from it that captured her attention. Clocks. And not just one clock. Dozens of them spread out across the wall.

  “Addison,” Luke said, “Lyle asked you a question.”

  She faced Lyle. “Yeah ... sorry. Interesting collection of clocks.”

  His face beamed with delight. “Over the years I’ve brought one clock back from every significant place I’ve been to in my life. If you look closely, you’ll notice the times are all different, set in the time of the place where they came from. It’s a fun little hobby. Drives my son nuts, though. He says he’ll chuck them one day when I’m not around anymore, but he won’t.”

  Lyle pushed two cans of soda in front of Addison and Luke. “Who’s going to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  Cut to the chase.

  Like father, like son.

  “I wanted to ask you about Cameron Blackthorn, Joseph and Cora’s baby,” Addison said.

  “Cameron? What about him?”

  “I understand Gene took him somewhere after Cora’s death.”

  He nodded. “That’s right.”

  “And Catherine never knew where.”

  “I suppose she thought if she didn’t know, it would ease her guilt somehow. But I don’t think it ever did. I understand why she couldn’t raise him, but to turn him out the way they did when he was heartsick over his mother ... well, I always thought it was a brutal thing to do to a young boy.”

  “Do you know where Gene took him?”

  He turned to the stove, giving the pasta a quick stir. “You two wanna have a seat at the bar?”

  They sat down.

  “Gene was going to send the boy to his sister’s house at first,” he said. “She had never been able to have children of her own, and she was thrilled about the idea. Gene’s concern for how Catherine would feel about it got the better of him, though, and he ended up taking him to a foster agency.”

  “Which one?”

  “I’m not sure. He didn’t say. But I do know that for the first couple of years he saw Cameron on occasion in secret. I suppose I was probably the only one who knows that information.”

  “Why you?”

  Lyle took a moment, then said, “I felt bad for the boy, so I tried to foster him myself.”

  “What happened?”

  “Gene begged me not to—said Catherine would lose her mind once it got around town. It would make it look like she’d abandoned him. I didn’t think it would have made a difference. People already thought it, and they weren’t keen on her, anyway. When I spoke to the agency, they said I couldn’t foster him because he was in a different county, and only people living in that county could foster him. Stupid rule, if you ask me, but that’s how it was back then.”

  “Before Cora died, were you ever around Cameron?”

  “A few times.”

  “What did he look like?” Addison asked.


  “He was a good-looking kid. He had big, bright eyes like his mother, and pale-blond hair. It was so fair it almost looked white. And then when he was a toddler, he fell outside, hit his head on a rock, leaving him with a scar, a two-inch gash over his right eye.”

  Luke and Addison exchanged glances.

  “What is it?” Lyle asked.

  “We have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “Now wait a minute. I gave you information, now you can do the same.”

  “Raymond may be responsible for Joseph’s death,” Addison said, “but I don’t believe he killed Catherine.”

  “Why not? What do you know that suggests otherwise?”

  “I’ve seen the scar you described, only it isn’t on a little boy anymore. It’s on a man.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  Addison shot out of the chair. “Call your son. Tell him what we talked about and that we’re headed back to the manor. If he’s not still there, he needs to be.”

  CHAPTER 49

  “I’ve seen that look before,” Luke said. “You’re plotting. You need to let Lancaster handle it.”

  “I will,” Addison said.

  “I mean it.”

  “I know, and I will. Besides, we’re together now. You’re with me. Nothing is going to happen.”

  Addison tried calling Marjorie, but there was no answer, making her uneasy. Marjorie had promised to leave her phone on. So why hadn’t she picked up?

  They arrived at the Blackthorn estate at dusk. All was quiet, eerily so, the only sound made by crickets rubbing their wings together, chirping.

  “Where is everyone?” Luke asked. “Where’s Lancaster?”

  “I’m worried about Marjorie,” Addison said. “I shouldn’t have left her.”

  “She said she was going to rest,” Luke said. “She’s probably sleeping.”

  Addison and Luke entered the guesthouse, finding Marjorie sleeping peacefully on the bed.

  “Told you,” Luke said. “She’s fine. She just needed some rest.”