by H. P. Bayne
Mrs. Carr emerged from the kitchen, coat already on. “I’m set. I’d like to go before it gets dark. We can leave out the back. It’s shorter.”
She waited for them there while Dez and Sully went to get their coats and boots from the front door.
“What are the chances she’ll let us stay over there with her?” Dez asked quietly.
“Not very good,” Sully said. “Anyway, you remember that place is haunted too?”
Dez slipped into his coat. “Given a choice between the nasty housekeeper and a murdered woman or a haunted mansion where murderers are created, I think I’d take door number one.”
The eerie howl of wind greeted them the moment they opened the back door.
Sully promptly closed it. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“I won’t stay here.”
“You can’t see ten feet out there. We could get lost.”
“The path is well-marked. My husband planted trees along the route years ago, along the property line. All we need to do is stay next to the trees.”
“Ma’am—” Dez started.
She cut him off. “I’m going, one way or the other. You can escort me or not. Up to you.”
Sully stared at the stubborn woman, then met Dez’s eye. Neither of them liked Mrs. Carr, but they couldn’t let her go out there on her own either.
Besides, Sully did hope to speak to Lilian Garver. The groundskeeper’s cottage was the only place he’d ever seen her.
“All right,” he said. “But we need to stick close together.”
“I know the way well,” she said. She reached back and took Dez’s gloved hand, leading the way through the door.
Dez hooked an arm around Sully’s and towed him along behind. The door closed, and they set a slow pace across the back gardens, the wings along the sides of the house providing a little protection from the full impact of the blizzard.
Moments later, leaving the partial shelter behind, they were hit by a blast of icy wind. Sully used his free hand to pull his hood up over his head and hold it there, giving a bit of relief to his ears.
The world was a blur of white, and Sully quickly lost his bearings. But Mrs. Carr seemed to know where she was going, setting a relentless pace past shrubs and bared lattices, a covered pool and an arbour, the garden shed and full-grown trees. Though Sully had walked this path before, the near-zero visibility rendered it a brand-new landscape. He did his best to memorize the route for later, but it was nearly impossible to find any notable landmarks.
Mrs. Carr would have walked it far more often, so it was perhaps not a tremendous surprise she led them safely to the cottage within ten minutes.
She keyed them inside, flicked on the lights and toed off her slip-on winter boots to make room in the entryway for Dez and Sully.
“If one of you could make a fire for me, I would be grateful,” she said. Nothing in her tone suggested gratitude was anywhere on the horizon.
Even so, Dez seemed happy to be anywhere other than the main house for the moment as he removed his own boots and made a beeline for the fireplace.
“Has the chimney been cleaned at all recently?” he asked. “We don’t want smoke blowing inside.”
“Chimney cleaning is one of the regular jobs around here,” she said. “Whenever the house is done, Mr. Braddock always had the same done on the cottage.”
Seemingly satisfied, Dez set to work pulling wood from the scuttle and stacking it inside the fireplace.
The cottage was small compared with the main house, but it was still plenty comfortable in size, boasting an open floor plan and the large stonework fireplace along the wall. Mrs. Carr made for the kitchen area, where she let the water run through the tap for a minute while readying a kettle.
With the others busy with their tasks, Sully turned his attention to the interior of the cottage and any presences it might contain. Nothing showed itself immediately, so he decided to give it another shot with Mrs. Carr. Sometimes talking about ghosts brought them forward.
Sully approached her and leaned against the counter, trying for polite interest rather than deliberate questioning.
“You said your husband worked here too.”
Mrs. Carr returned her gaze to the sink and filled the kettle.
“He was the groundskeeper here for many years. He and I lived in this cottage until shortly before his death.”
The groundskeeper. Sully didn’t know why he hadn’t clued in sooner.
He glanced over and found Dez staring at him with raised brows. Yes, he remembered the groundskeeper too. The man had been a jerk of the highest order, threatening Dez and Sully with a sound thrashing whenever they happened to come too near the cottage.
Sully turned back to Mrs. Carr. He wanted to ask about the Garvers but knew enough of interview tactics to realize he was best warming her up to it first.
“When did you move?”
Her eyes shot back to meet his. “My business, not yours,” she snapped. She placed the kettle on one of the stove’s burners.
So much for the warm-up.
“Hey, Sull?” Dez called out from behind him. “Come give me a hand with this, will you?”
Sully moved to the fireplace and crouched next to Dez. “What?”
“You’re not going to get anywhere with her,” he whispered. “She’s never liked anyone, but she’s always had a real hate-on for you.” Dez paused for a smirk. “Always thought the foster kid was going to murder us in our beds. Let me try with her. Can you finish lighting this?”
Sully nodded and took a box of matches from Dez. He pretended to fumble with the task as Dez approached the woman, now readying a mug with a teabag. One mug, Sully noticed. Not even an offer for either of them.
“Mrs. Carr,” Dez began. “We found a wedding album up in the attic, inside an old dresser. It’s of Bill and Lilian Garver. I wondered if I could ask you some questions about them.”
“Why?”
“Because Leonard Jacob has asked us to look into his past, and you said you knew the Garvers.”
Sully touched the match to the kindling, listening to the silence following Dez’s words. Sully stared into the small flames, watching as they licked at crumpled newspaper flyers and caught.
Mrs. Carr finally opted to answer.
“I was employed by the family. I had been needing work and learned Thornview Hall’s master was wanting a housekeeper, as he had found himself unexpectedly alone with two young children to raise. I went along for an interview, and he hired me on the spot.”
“What was he like?”
“As one might expect of a man with a busy job and raising two young children on his own, he was under considerable strain. He rarely said as much, but he was grateful for my services, I believe.
“It was very much a full-time job for me, given the size of the house, but I did well at it, and he employed me for the remainder of his time here. After he sold the place to Mr. Braddock and Dr. Abraham, they kept me on.”
“And your husband?”
“Mitchell was already groundskeeper when I started. I met him here.”
Sully stared into the growing fire and raised a surreptitious eyebrow. Leonard had said his mother had been involved with the groundskeeper. It couldn’t possibly be the same one, but maybe Mrs. Carr knew about the other. He wanted to ask, but knew he wouldn’t get anywhere. Hopefully, Dez had caught onto the same thing.
“You said you and your husband moved away from here a few years back?”
“Seven years ago. We moved into the city. Not his choosing, but he needed to be closer to the doctors. He had some health problems that ended up getting the best of him.”
“I’m sorry,” Dez said. To his credit, he sounded as if he meant it.
Mrs. Carr continued without acknowledging Dez’s sympathies. “Mitchell still wanted to work at the hall, even when he no longer could. The Braddocks paid our rent in the city. They were always fair, the Braddocks.”
Sully resisted the grimace begg
ing to show itself.
“After we moved off the property, I commuted between the city and the hall each day,” Mrs. Carr continued. “As for the grounds, Mr. Braddock simply hired someone to cut the lawn once a week. Dr. Abraham enjoyed working in the gardens herself, anyway. Relaxed her, I think.”
“There was a groundskeeper here before your husband, wasn’t there?” There was the question, subtly asked. Sully glanced up, then back down before Mrs. Carr could sense his interest.
“I didn’t know him,” she said.
“Did your husband?”
“He wouldn’t, would he? Considering he took over for the man and all.”
Her tone suggested she had about reached her limit with this particular line of questioning. But Dez had limits of his own, and Sully knew he hadn’t come close to hitting them.
“Leonard told us his mother ran off with the groundskeeper. I wondered how much you knew of it.”
Mrs. Carr clamped eyes on Dez so suddenly Sully’s nerves jumped. “I won’t speak ill of the dead.”
“Why would you believe they’re dead?”
She chuckled without humour. “Look at me. I’m an old woman. My husband was older than I am, and the former groundskeeper, I understand, was older still. I don’t know where Lilian might be, but there’s no possibility the man she ran off with is still alive in this world.” She leaned closer. “No possibility.”
Something in the corner of the room turned Sully’s attention. A shimmer of movement in the storm-cast shadows.
The shifting of hair and pale clothing.
A shrill wail made Sully jump. His eyes snapped to the stove where steam coursed from the spout of the kettle.
The unnerving sound explained, Sully switched his gaze back to the corner.
The woman was gone.
Sully turned back to the others, watching as Mrs. Carr pulled the kettle from the burner and poured its contents into her cup. Dez watched her, and Sully could sense the thoughts playing out in his brain as he tried to decide where best to go with his questions.
“Who’s paying you to run the place now?” he asked.
“They are still. Mr. Braddock made arrangements with his company to have the place looked after, including my wages. They worried it might be subject to vandalism if it appeared the property wasn’t lived in. Mr. Braddock said they would be back once they were cleared at trial. They needed it maintained in the meantime.”
Sully figured Lowell and Kindra were in for a hell of a shock, but figured the thought was best left unsaid.
He distracted himself from the dwindling conversation, turning his attention back to the fire. He meditated on it a few moments, trying to settle himself enough to allow his gift to work better. He was on edge—had been since the start of this, since he’d first learned the story of Leo and Miriam Garver and their abuse at the hands of their father.
Leo said Bill Garver had treated his wife the same. Now Sully suspected the man hadn’t killed just one family member; it had been two.
As he stilled his mind, he began to sense it, the feeling of being watched. She’d left the spot where she’d stood earlier, but she was still here somewhere, just out of eyeshot.
He turned, scanning the room, searching the corners and the dim entrances to the bedroom and bathroom.
Seeing nothing, his eyes went to one of the windows. Something dark, barely visible through the blanket of blowing snow, came into view. As he watched, it drifted further into focus, as if it were drawing nearer.
At last, she stood fully before the window outside, much of her face concealed beneath the tangle of flowing, dark hair. As he stared, a hand came up—a single, blood-covered hand. It settled, palm forward, against the window as if to leave a bloody handprint behind. Slowly the hand slid, moving downward until it was barely in sight. Then it lifted and turned, palm up. The index finger extended, then pulled back, painstakingly slowly, toward her. Once. Twice.
Come to me.
Sully rose to his feet and moved toward the window.
She stayed where she was, just the other side, hand still beckoning him forward. He searched for her eyes beneath the veil of hair but couldn’t find them. While the ends of her strands flipped as if caught in a gentle breeze, the windstorm outside had no visible effect on her. The blizzard couldn’t lift the hair from her face.
He wasn’t able to see her properly, but he was more certain than ever he’d been correct in his read upstairs. This was definitely Lilian Garver.
“Sully?”
Dez’s voice carried more concern than question, anxiety plucking at the edges of the single word. Sully didn’t answer, not yet. His attention was here, focused outward at the presence standing outside his reach, silently asking him to join her.
“I think she wants me to go outside with her.” He didn’t even consider the fact Mrs. Carr would hear him. Right now, Lilian was all he saw.
“What is it?” came Mrs. Carr’s voice, the hushed nature of it suggesting she’d directed the question at Dez, not Sully.
Sully moved toward the entryway and bent to grasp one of his boots. Hands on his shoulders forced him back to standing.
“What are you doing?” Dez asked.
“I told you, she—”
“Wants you out there with her,” Dez finished up. “Why?”
“I won’t know until she shows me.”
Dez’s hands gripped harder as his head shook side to side. “Uh-uh, Sully. No way. Look outside.”
“I won’t go far.”
“Damn straight, you won’t go far. You won’t go anywhere. I’ve seen you when ghosts decide they want to show you something. You lose track of everything except them.” Dez pointed his chin toward the window in the door’s top half. “You can’t see shit out there. You go out in that and take off, you won’t be able to find your way back. And I won’t be able to find you.”
As compelled as he was to speak to Lilian, Sully had to concede Dez’s point. He did tend to get lost in the world ghosts showed him, sometimes at the expense of his own safety. Worse, he knew full well if he got lost in the storm, Dez wouldn’t stop trying to find him—even if it was the last thing he ever did.
Sully’s phone rang inside his coat pocket, and he pulled it out to check the call display. “Leonard Jacob,” he said for Dez’s benefit.
“Good timing.”
Sully headed for the sofa, keeping his back to the window and the dead woman he’d last seen standing there as he clicked to answer the call.
“Sullivan Gray,” he said.
“It’s Leo,” came the voice. “And before you ask, no, there’s no verdict yet. I’m calling to ask whether you learned anything.”
“We’re up at the house,” Sully said. “May I put you on speaker? I’m with Dez and your former housekeeper, Mrs. Carr.”
Leo agreed, so Sully tapped the button to allow the conversation to he heard by the others. Dez sat next to him, and Mrs. Carr even wandered over, mug of tea in hand as she lowered herself into a chair.
Her eyes, for a moment, fixed on Sully, her expression questioning. Whether with suspicion or curiosity, he didn’t know.
Then she turned her attention to the phone Sully placed on the coffee table. “Mr. Jacob, it’s Mrs. Carr, sir. How are you?”
“I’m well, ma’am. It’s good to hear your voice. How are you doing these days?”
“Oh, the same,” she said. A small smile had broken on her face. While it lingered, it made her seem almost human. “Can’t complain.”
“So you’re still working at the house, I hear. Lowell told me he kept you and your husband on. I was sorry to hear of Mitchell’s passing, by the way.”
“Thank you, sir. I am still working here. For now, anyway. What the future will bring, who can say?”
“Very true. I have to apologize if the boys turning up as they did put you out in any way. But I have some questions about my sister and my parents, and as Desmond and Sullivan are private investigators, I thought they migh
t be able to help me get to the bottom of it. I’d look into it myself, but I wasn’t able to leave the city because of the jury. With the storm, it seems I’ll be further delayed. Has the storm hit there too?”
“Yeah,” Sully said. “A little while ago. We’re kind of stuck here, I guess.”
“Mrs. Carr has always been a gracious woman,” Leo said. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to accommodate you until the storm passes.”
During his many years as a lawyer, Leonard Jacob had no doubt stretched the truth at times for the benefit of clients. What he’d just said might well have topped everything.
“I had intended to return to my home in the city,” Mrs. Carr said. “But it would seem I’m not going anywhere at present. If the storm doesn’t break soon, I’ll put them up in the house for tonight.”
A small intake of air from Dez was enough to give away his thoughts on the matter.
“That would be good of you, ma’am. Thank you,” Leo said. “Since I have you on the phone, I wonder if I might be able to ask you a few things.”
“By all means.”
While Mrs. Carr focused on the phone, Sully raised his brows at Dez. He wished they’d had a chance to talk to Leo before he called. Maybe they could have had him ask the things Mrs. Carr would never deign to tell the two of them.
Then again, maybe he’d ask them, anyway.
“Did you ever meet my mother?”
“No, I never had the pleasure. By the time I came along, your father was raising you and your sister on his own. You were quite young at the time. I don’t suppose you remember.”
“It’s been many years,” Leo acknowledged. “Memories fade, and the remaining ones tend to blend into each other. I couldn’t remember any longer when you came to us. I don’t recall who worked in the house prior.”
“I’m not aware of there being a housekeeper before I came along,” Mrs. Carr said. “I understood Mrs. Garver tended the house.”
“I see. Did my father ever speak of her?”
“I can’t say as he did. The matter of her leaving was likely too painful for him. It’s a hard thing to lose a spouse. Harder still, I should think, when they leave of their own accord.”