by H. P. Bayne
Sully glared into the shadows and hissed a warning. “Leave us alone. I’m not someone you want to mess with.”
The presence didn’t leave, but it seemed to back off a little, taking some of the chill with it. Sully held his position another long moment, making sure. Finally, accepting he was going to have to work around it, he turned his mind back to his search.
For a couple of minutes, he rooted around, dividing his time between the hunt and the nearby presence. Finally, he realized he wasn’t going to find the toolbox he’d hoped for.
He was about to return to Dez when his gaze settled on one of the sewing machines. If someone had sewn, maybe they’d knitted too. A knitting needle might work.
Sully headed for one of the machines and the drawers of the table it was built into.
The presence followed.
“Back off,” Sully snapped, keeping his voice low to avoid alerting Dez.
It didn’t exactly back off, but it stopped advancing.
Sully didn’t want to think about having to get himself and Dez out of here. At this moment, the spirit was between them and the stairs.
Resolved to get out of this house as soon as was humanly possible, Sully yanked open drawers and dug through their contents, fumbling for anything serviceable. The first machine held nothing but thread, swatches and small sewing needles.
He lucked out with the second machine. Nothing useful in the drawers, but a box atop it held a variety of partially knitted items. A pair of long needles—heavier metal ones rather than plastic—were inside, stuck within the spools of a half-completed scarf. An uneasy thought formed as Sully regarded it: Lilian Garver might have walked away from her family in the midst of this project, unable to take more of her husband’s abuse. There was little doubt the clothes in the dresser were hers, left behind along with everything else.
Including her own children.
Sully shook the dark thought off and pulled the needles free. No point saving work that would never be completed.
He returned to Dez more quickly than he’d left, eager to put what distance he could between himself and the malevolent presence.
“Will these work?” he asked.
Dez took one and pressed it firmly against the dresser’s backing, maneuvering it until he succeeded in wedging the tip between the oak and the plywood backing.
“We can try,” Dez said. “Better than nothing.”
“This is going to suck if there’s nothing inside but underwear or something.”
Dez didn’t spare him a glance as he focused on his task. “Don’t even say it. I don’t want to look at some old woman’s skivvies.”
As he worked, Dez gnawed at his lower lip, digging the needle farther in and working it side to side. At last came a quiet scrape of a nail grinding against wood.
“Yes,” came Dez’s triumphant announcement as the nail pulled free, creating a space large enough to work the needle down farther. He went to work on the next nail, which popped out much more easily than the first.
Dez met Sully’s eye. “See if you can get your fingers in there and pull.”
Sully slipped his fingers into the gap Dez had created and gave it a tug, working his hands down until he was near the next nail. A few minutes later, the backing was off completely, allowing access to the back of the drawers.
“One on the left was stuck?” Dez asked.
Sully nodded and Dez pressed against it, lightly at first, then harder. Wood scraping wood sounded as the drawer at last shifted forward.
Sully circled the dresser and tugged at the newly created opening until the contents of the drawer were exposed and reachable.
Dez stepped to his side. “Whatcha got?”
“We’re in luck maybe,” Sully said. “It’s not clothing.”
He slid one item from the drawer—a flat, square box he thought might contain a photo. He placed it atop one of the boxes on the dresser and pulled off the top.
It was an album, the words “Our Wedding” engraved on the front. Sully pulled the album out.
Sensing movement, he lifted his head in time to see something flying through the air at them. He shoved Dez aside just as a clunky TV remote flew past their faces.
Dez shouted, his head turning away, toward the shadows from which the remote had come. A moment later, his wide eyes and pale face fixed on Sully.
“What the hell?”
“Let’s just finish and get out of here,” Sully said.
He flipped open the album cover, then turned the cover page. The first two face-to-face pages contained two things of note: a wedding photo of the couple and a marriage certificate. One of the names was William Edward Garver. The other was Lilian Phoebe Liddle.
“Here we go,” Dez said. He took one more glance over his shoulder before leaning closer to Sully, as if afraid the poltergeist might overhear his next words. “Lilian Liddle. Some wedding books contain guest lists. See if this has one.”
But Sully’s attention was elsewhere. He’d been drawn to the photo, showing a tall, thin man who bore a striking resemblance to Leonard Jacob and his pretty, petite wife. She was striking—fair skin, fine features and dark hair swept elegantly atop her head.
But more striking to Sully was the fact he’d seen her before.
Her ghost haunted the groundskeeper’s cottage.
6
“You’re sure?” Dez asked. “You’re absolutely sure?”
He was anxious enough already about the entity haunting this house. Plenty aware of the ghost at the groundskeeper’s cottage, he had hoped they could leave that one alone.
Now it looked like another ghost was going to factor into their investigation.
“I can’t be one hundred percent unless I see her again,” Sully said. “It’s been years since I last saw her. But I’m pretty sure. I’ve got a feeling.”
“You and your feelings. They never hold anything good for me.” Dez took the wedding album from Sully. “You think Jacob will want to see this?”
Sully shrugged. “If it were me, I wouldn’t. But he’s not me.”
“You aren’t kidding.” Dez used his cellphone to take a quick picture of the wedding certificate and photo before sliding the book back into the drawer and doing his best to push it shut. “We’ll tell him it’s here. If he wants to see it in person, I’m sure Mrs. Carr will let him in. I don’t want this creepy-ass thing around me any longer than necessary.”
He glanced back into the dimly lit expanse of attic, brain squirming beneath the idea of having to clear this dark obstacle course to get to the stairs.
He leaned so his lips were close to Sully’s ear. “How fast do you think we can get out of this attic?”
“Don’t run,” Sully said. “Too much to trip over. Last thing we need is to be injured and trapped up here with whatever this is.”
Dez didn’t like the sound of those final words. If Sully didn’t know what this was, it didn’t bode well. He resolved not the ask until they were safely out.
Dez wheeled at the sound of rattling behind him. His eyes strained to see, to identify what had moved. He jumped at the feel of a hand on his arm and turned to find Sully smirking up at him.
“Just the wind shaking the window,” he said. Then his smile slipped. “Looks like the storm’s hitting early.”
Dez turned back toward the window. He shifted a little, enough to see the branches of one of the tall trees next to the house. Sure enough, they were waving wildly in a wicked breeze. Already, they were blurring behind a layer of falling snow.
“Oh, hell, no.”
Sully patted his arm before dropping his hand. “Yeah. My thoughts too.”
“Maybe we can still get out if we leave now.”
If one thing scared Dez worse than the seemingly long trek to the stairs, it was the thought of being stormbound in this house. He led the way, setting a brisk pace toward the staircase. On the other side of the attic, something creaked. Dez narrowed his eyes as he moved past the furniture, the s
ewing machines and those godawful seamstress dummies, covered with white sheets like something from a horror movie. Finally, he gripped the hand railing and swung himself onto the steps, feet pounding as he rushed down them, attic door waiting open at the bottom. He heard Sully behind him, no less hurried to end their visit.
Dez checked his footing before refocusing on entrance.
The door banged shut.
Dez let loose a yell, jumping backward.
He slammed into Sully, and they collapsed in a heap on the stairs, Dez coming down hard, half on top of him.
Sully groaned. “God, Dez.”
Dez grasped Sully’s ankle and squeezed. “D-do you see anything?”
Sully gave his back a shove. “Your back. Get off me.”
Dez sat up, but it was the best he could do for the moment, fear freezing him in place. Something had slammed the door, and he had no idea what they might find on the other side.
“It’s a poltergeist,” Sully said, as if that should be answer enough. “You’ve dealt with them before.”
“Yeah, your poltergeist.” Dez rubbed his arms. “You had a handle on Noisy Ned. It listened to you. I don’t think anything living in this house will be as accommodating.”
“Like I said before, I’ve got ways of controlling it if need be.”
“I don’t know, man. All I know is I want out of here, but I don’t want to go through that door.”
Sully gave Dez another push and slipped fully out from under him. He gave his leg a shake to get Dez to release it, then squeezed past him to reach the door.
“I’m going to open it,” Sully said. He glanced over his shoulder to meet Dez’s eye. “Ready?”
“How the hell does anyone live in this house?” Dez asked by way of reply as he rose to his feet.
Sully put his hand on the knob and turned it. Dez sucked in a nerve-steeling breath and crouched behind Sully, readying himself to run for it.
Sully eased the door open.
A human figure stood on the other side.
Dez gasped. He was about to grab at Sully to haul him back when he recognized the person in the dim light.
Mrs. Carr. She stood there, across from the opened door, staring at them.
The sight of the slight, grumpy old woman was as spooky as the attic, and Dez stalled in place at the dark expression on her face.
“I’ve been calling for you,” she said. “The storm’s started.”
Sully led the way toward the stairs, answering her as he went. “We didn’t hear you.”
“I was calling you for at least a minute.”
Sully shrugged. “We didn’t hear you. How bad is it outside?”
“Bad. It came up suddenly. I don’t see how we’ll be going anywhere now.”
Denial hit Dez hard. “Can’t be that bad yet.”
They discovered otherwise upon making it to the main floor. Dez slipped past Sully and Mrs. Carr, headed for the front door.
The wind shoved hard against the door as he opened it, and a heavy cloud of snow blew through the gap.
Dez shoved the door shut. “Okay, it’s bad.”
Mrs. Carr turned a heated glare on him. “I told you I wanted away from here before the storm hit.”
Sully took a step toward her, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “In our defence, we didn’t get here too long ago. If you’d left, you’d be stranded on the highway now. At least you’re somewhere warm.”
Dez noted Sully didn’t add the words, “And safe.”
“I’d have rather taken my chances with the road,” the housekeeper said.
Dez pulled out his phone and checked the weather. “They’re predicting heavy snow into the late evening—about ten or eleven.” He met Sully’s eye and raised his brows.
Sully offered him a humourless smile.
“Looks like we’re not going anywhere.”
7
Mrs. Carr met the news about as well as Sully would have anticipated.
“I told you I didn’t want to get caught out here,” she repeated.
She glanced up the stairs, its corners already fading into shadow as the storm outside concealed the light. She turned away and headed through the sitting room to the left. Sully met Dez’s eye and shrugged, following the housekeeper. If they weren’t going anywhere anyway, they could take advantage of the situation by questioning her. She’d known the Garvers. Might be she could provide a few answers.
If they could get her to talk to them.
“Mrs. Carr—”
“I’m not in the mood for conversation.” She made it to the edge of the kitchen before turning to face him. “I need to finish the dishes. Then you can make yourselves useful by leading me to the groundskeeper’s cottage. I’ll stay the night there. I won’t sleep in this house.”
She walked over to the sink where she’d apparently been completing her final day’s task.
Sully looked back to find Dez studying the housekeeper with an expression of barely suppressed dread. Bad enough for the two of them to be stuck in the haunted house belonging to their murderous uncle. The fact Thornview Hall’s longtime housekeeper refused to stay under its roof didn’t bode well at all.
Sully leaned toward Dez to keep his next words between them. “Why don’t you call Eva and tell her what’s going on?” In other words, let Dez’s wife calm him down. She was good at that.
Dez nodded dumbly and stepped away into the sitting room where he would still have a view into the kitchen.
Sully sucked it up and returned to the kitchen.
Lowell and Kindra had maintained many of the hall’s classic, elegant features, but the kitchen had been redone to modern tastes, all butcher block surfaces, gleaming white cupboards and stainless-steel appliances.
Mrs. Carr stood at one of two industrial-sized sinks. She’d already placed a plate, a plastic container and some utensils into a drying tray and was scrubbing at a pot. Sully tugged a dishtowel from the oven handle and started drying.
“I don’t need you to help,” the housekeeper said without glancing up.
“I don’t mind.”
She fired a heated look at him, then returned to her task. “Mr. Braddock and Dr. Abraham are good employers to me. They’re fair and they pay well. There’s no telling what will happen here now. I don’t even know if anyone will buy the house. Many times, I’ve seen people walking in from the trails out back, stopping to gawk and take pictures like this is a stop on a bloody tour.”
“I can understand why you’d be upset.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not trying to. But you need to understand something too. I didn’t want any of this. Dez and the rest of the family didn’t either. Lowell killed Aiden and my dad and others too. Kindra covered for him, even helped him. That sort of thing, you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. We’re not talking about theft or a minor assault. It’s murder.”
“I don’t believe they’re capable of it.”
“Do you read the news?”
“No. I don’t want to read about it.”
“So you’ve isolated yourself from the truth. Mrs. Carr, multiple people were called to testify, not just me. They—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“But you—”
She spun on him, narrowed eyes throwing fire. “I don’t want to hear it!”
She turned back to the sink, fury gone as quickly as it had come. “This house, it changes people. It does things to them.”
“What do you mean?”
Mrs. Carr finished with the pot and pulled the dishtowel from Sully’s hands to complete her task. “I’ll finish these. Go sit with your brother until I’m finished. If you would be so kind as to walk me to the cottage, I’ll come and get you when I’m ready to go.”
And that was that.
Forced to acknowledge this was as far as he was going to get with Mrs. Carr, Sully headed to the sitting room where Dez was slumped on the sofa, head in hand as he held the
phone to his ear.
“This is the last place I want to be right now,” Dez said into the phone.
As he sat next to Dez, Sully could make out the muffled sounds of Eva’s voice. He couldn’t tell what she was saying, but Dez was nodding in response before she’d even finished.
“Okay,” Dez said at last. “Thanks, babe. Love you …. Yeah, I will. See you soon, okay? Hug Kayleigh for me …. Yeah. Bye.”
Dez slowly drew the phone from his ear and clicked the button to end the call. “Eva says to give you a hug from her. You want a hug?”
Sully smirked. “I’ll take a rain check, thanks.” He studied Dez. The big guy hadn’t moved since he’d disconnected, had passed along Eva’s message through a deadpan tone and expression. “You okay?”
Dez shrugged but didn’t respond. “You get anything from Carr?”
“Nope. Maybe she’ll be more talkative once we walk her to her cottage.”
“Great. Guess we do have to go over there then.”
“Sorry …. Dez—”
“It’s not just the whole haunted house thing,” Dez said. “It’s doing my head in, being here, thinking about it. I mean, Lowell lived here while he was doing all of those evil things. Dad ….” He trailed off and pinched at the corners of his eyes as if to stem threatening tears.
Sully finished the statement for him. “He died here. I know.”
Dez peered at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Did Dad ever show you where it happened? Which room, I mean?”
Sully shook his head. “He didn’t want me to see it, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t think I could have handled it.”
Dez nodded and turned his gaze to his lap. “I don’t want to be here. It’s bringing everything back. I don’t know if I can deal with it.”
Sully placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You can deal. I’ve got your back. We’ll get through it together, all right?”
Dez nodded again, then blew a heavy breath through pursed lips. He patted Sully’s knee, then gave his leg a gentle shake. “Yeah. Back at ya.”