Purrfect Haunt

by Louise Lynn

  Anthony Ray lingered close to her legs, and she swore her hand wasn't clammy when she put it on the brass doorknob. It was cold to the touch, and sent a jolt up her arm. She turned it slowly, and the door swung inward.

  The rectangle of light that illuminated the room didn't tell her much, as none of the lights inside were on.

  She squinted at the wall, found the button and pressed it. The sconces flickered and showed the details of the room.

  All at once, Hazel understood why the door had been shut.

  A large dark desk stood at one end and bookshelves surrounded it. They seemed to be built into the walls, and were stacked with books, though they were all covered thickly in dust and, like she imagined before, cobwebs. Some of the cobwebs had been swept aside. Notably, the ones around a family portrait on the bookcase.

  Interesting that Patricia cleared that. Hazel wondered why.

  Anthony Ray meowed as Hazel shuffled into the room.

  "It's not a big deal. You find dead bodies all the time, and you're worried about stepping into a nearly century old murder scene?" she said to her cat.

  Anthony Ray took an affront to that and trotted ahead of her.

  He sniffed the floor, and the longer Hazel looked at it, she realized what she was seeing.

  While the walnut was dark, it wasn't nearly as dark in every place as it was near the desk. The shape was sort of wonky oval with splashes at certain ends, more like a smear than anything.

  And she knew what it was.

  Blood.

  Mr. Pearl’s blood stained into the wood, if the story was to be believed.

  So the stain was still here. Well, the rumor was that no matter what floor covering was put over it, a new bloodstain appeared, but she didn't see how that was possible considering it was just the bare floor boards now.

  Though maybe that was why.

  No, that something her mother and Patricia Corning would think. Not Hazel, seasoned skeptic.

  Think about how much Colton would laugh at her if he knew she even entertained that thought for a moment? She smiled and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

  "Just a room, Anthony Ray."

  Anthony Ray stretched, and she took that as a sign of agreement.

  * * *

  “And this is the infamous murder room, where Mr. Pearl was killed," Patricia said for the fifth time that night as they stood in the study.

  It took all of Hazel's composure not to roll her eyes.

  At least this time it wasn't to another group of tourists, but the Ghost Hunters Extreme crew themselves. It only consisted of the three Hazel had already met the night before, Cameron Killian, Josh Hopkins and Emma Grand.

  Tess Turtledove stood in the doorway. She’d refused to enter the room. Like usual, her brownish hair fizzed around her head, mane-like. She wore her thick tortoiseshell framed glasses close to her eyes. Her outfit was tidier than usual. She wore a pair of leggings with a skirt of many different layers and lengths over it. On top of that was a huge sweater at least three times too big. It made Tess look rounder and even more owl-like than usual.

  They'd all been properly introduced to Michael, who thankfully didn't ask for an autograph from Cameron Killian. Tess and Emma tried to shake hands, though Tess tugged hers away at the last minute, and Emma looked close to scowling. Cameron all but ignored her. Something in Hazel burned at that. Sure, Tess was odd, but Cameron didn’t have any right to treat her like that.

  Patricia kept looking over her shoulder as if she wanted to be gone from that place. Hazel didn't think it was haunted, but there was something about the atmosphere there that weighed on her.

  She wondered if it had something to do with the ancient wiring or perhaps the permanent chill that hung over the place.

  Whatever it was, Hazel wanted to be gone too, but she figured that had more to do with the fact that it was already after midnight, and she hadn't had an extra dose of caffeine since sometime in the afternoon. Twelve hours with no coffee made Hazel a tired photographer.

  At least she had a break to feed Anthony Ray his dinner, or else she never would've heard the end of it.

  "Oh yeah," Emma said. She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath through her nose. "This room has a lot of psychic energy in it. We’ll have to do some EVPs in here and probably set up a static cam, just in case anything moves on its own," she said and threw a meaningful glance at Cameron.

  “I already know that, babe. Let's get set up, Josh. Then we can get to work." He gave the two of them a grin that Hazel supposed some people found charming. She might have if it wasn't for the fact that he dressed like a frat boy, had hair that stuck up like a porcupine, and smelled like a mixture of every cologne known to men ages sixteen to twenty-two.

  As it were, she gritted her teeth and kept a tight hold of Anthony Ray's leash.

  "Well then, I'll leave you all to it. The keys are on the table near the front door, so the last one who leaves can lock up."

  "Of course," Hazel said with a weary smile.

  Patricia nodded and turned to the others. “Oh, Emma, dear? Do you mind if I have a word with you? I think as a deeply spiritual psychic, you’ll understand better than these young men."

  Hazel fought not to roll her eyes, though she thought something about the way Patricia worded it sounded sarcastic.

  Emma’s expression froze. “Sure. Is this about the headless ghost? The one you said was especially dangerous?"

  “Yes. It’s of that nature. I know you’ll convey the message to your co-workers better than I could."

  With that, they hustled out of the room.

  Hazel glanced at Michael, who was staring at the remaining two ghost hunters with wide fascinated eyes.

  Tess looked at the ground.

  "Hey babe," Cameron said, and Hazel realized he was talking to her.

  "Just Hazel. Or Ms. Hart if you're feeling formal," she said.

  Cameron ignored her. "I know that Patricia hired you for your photography skills or whatever, but I think you and your assistant are going to get in the way of our investigation. No hard feelings, but we’re used to working as a trio, and you guys kind of cramp our style, know what I mean?"

  Oh, Hazel knew exactly what he meant, but she also had a job to do. And she wasn't going to sneak off and lie to her mother's friend about completing that job.

  "I don't care what kind of style you have or how cramped it is with Michael, Tess, and I around, but we’ll try to keep out of your way. We could split the house into sections. While you're in the basement, we’ll be on the first floor and so on," she said in a tone that was both reasonable and firm. It's the one her father taught her to use with difficult clients. It usually worked.

  Cameron looked ready to say more, but Josh popped up at that moment. He put a hand on Cameron's shoulder. "That actually sounds like a good idea, Cam, right? Plus, they have cameras. The more pictures taken tonight, the better chance we’ll catch something." He put meaningful emphasis on the last word, and Hazel wondered what that meant.

  Something fake? Probably.

  Cameron gritted his teeth, and his carefree demeanor hardened. He gave them all a surly glare. "Yeah, whatever. Just stay out of our way. Like I said, we've got a reputation to uphold, and I’m not going to let the stupid Xtreme_Skeptic make a fool out of us anymore!"

  Hazel barely contained her snort of laughter, and glared at Cameron as he stomped out of the room, throwing more orders at Josh.

  Tess drifted off at that, moving like a ghost herself.

  Josh gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. He’s still mad about what happened last night with Jimbo. He really thought we were onto something with that dummy."

  “On to what?" Hazel asked, though she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know.

  Josh flushed. “Oh, you know, recreating the murders. Emma says it gives us more of a connection to the spirits. I don’t know. I just thought it was fun to see who could axe Jimbo in the head. He’s been through
a lot, but that was the worst."

  “Who did it?" Hazel asked, suddenly curious. She hoped it wasn’t Cameron.

  “Group effort, but I think me and Emma did the most work. She may be small, but she does that crazy CrossFit workout."

  Emma did seem super peppy, so CrossFit suited her.

  "If you're so good at making horror special-effects, why are you in Cedar Valley instead of Hollywood?" Hazel asked.

  Josh shrugged. "I've been friends with Cam forever. We’re actually from Lake Celeste, only not Cedar Valley. We lived in North Lake City, and we used to come over here all the time to the Rockwell Manor and stuff. The ghost hunting gig has only been going on for a few years, but I figured I’d stick by his side since it seems to be paying off."

  Hazel nodded slowly.

  Michael hovered near the door, and looked like he wanted to say something. "You guys are getting big on YouTube, but, no offense, I've never heard of you before now. I mean, he's the only one that really has his face on the show."

  Josh's cheeks reddened at that. "Oh, yeah. Cam said it would be easier for everyone if there was just one person on camera at all times. So it would be instant brand recognition or something. I don't know anything about that. But, he's my best friend, so I try to help out anyway I can. It also means he takes the brunt of the heat from our haters, like that Xtreme-Skeptic jerk. Well, we’re gonna prove him wrong with this case."

  Hazel blinked. Instant brand recognition? Yeah right. It sounded more like Cameron Killian had an oversized ego and there wasn’t any room in his life for someone else to share the spotlight. "I don’t know about you, but I'm pretty sure the teenage boys who watch this kind of stuff would like to see Emma on camera."

  Michael choked, and turned it into a cough, while Josh actually laughed. "I've said the same thing. Emma doesn't want to be on camera though. She claims she's not photogenic," he said with a shrug.

  That was something else Hazel wasn't sure she believed. Emma was a lovely young woman, and while she didn't look like the type who spent an obscene amount of time on her appearance, she was obviously confident in it.

  "Okay, are you guys starting in the basement?"

  Josh nodded. "As far as I know."

  "Sounds perfect."

  As she moved away from the study, leaving Michael and Josh to chat, she heard Cameron talking in a low voice from the kitchen.

  “What are you doing here?" he hissed. “Especially after everything that happened. What you did!"

  Who was he talking to?

  Hazel told herself it didn’t matter, but Anthony Ray butted forward, his tail jutted into the air. She had no choice but to follow. And if she heard more of the conversation, who’s fault was that?

  “A pall hangs over this house. Nothing stirs inside but a mouse." It was the small, dreamy voice of Tess.

  Did that mean Tess and Cameron knew each other? Stranger things had happened, but not many.

  “Cut the crap. I know why you’re really here." Cameron sounded like he was going to fist bump another guy. “I never thought I’d see you again after what happened. But I’m back at Lake Celeste, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m here to prove you wrong, little dove. "

  Hazel suddenly worried that she shouldn’t be listening to this—especially when she heard Tess gasp.

  “This road leads to naught but sorrow; one of us may not see the morrow," Tess said in a tone of voice that sent shivers up Hazel’s spine. It sounded like a different woman talking—one who had confidence and didn’t look more like an owl than a person.

  “You’re going to do that again, aren’t you? Just like last time?"

  “I had to," Tess said, and Hazel swore it was the first normal thing she’d ever heard Tess utter.

  At that, the kitchen door swung open, and Cameron glared daggers past Hazel as he stalked out. Suddenly, he stopped and shouted. “Hey, Josh, where’s Emma?"

  Josh poked his head around the corner of the formal dining room. “Uh, not sure. Why?"

  A smile Hazel could only describe as chilling spread over Cameron Killian’s mouth. “I know how we're finally going to get back at Xtreme_Skeptic. Let that loser disprove us after I reveal who they really are."

  Josh Hopkins paled. “Wh—what? You figured out who Xtreme_Skeptic is? How?"

  Hazel blinked, and Cameron didn’t say. He shook his head and swept past Josh. “It’s a surprise, and I want it in the show."

  Once they were gone, Hazel looked back at Tess.

  She stood alone in the kitchen, looking at nothing.

  Anthony Ray meowed and moved in to rub her legs, leaving a mass of black fur behind.

  Tess bent down to pet him.

  For once, Hazel decided not to ask what that was about. She’d keep her curiosity in check, for now. She just hoped they could get through this night quickly, so she could go home and get some sleep, haunting or not.

  * * *

  It turned out that splitting the house by floors worked well for Hazel, and she assumed it worked for the Ghost Hunters Extreme crew as well.

  At least they didn't complain.

  Though, Hazel also heard Cameron say something about that night being a dry run for the following nights, since, like Hazel, they were supposed to be there until Halloween.

  Hazel knew she wasn't going to find any ghostly evidence. Though, Cameron and his two-person crew made enough noise for it to sound like ghosts were everywhere. It seemed as if every few moments Cameron's voice rang up the stairwell or down a hallway with a gasping exclamation of: “Oh man, I just passed through a cold spot, bro!"

  Or: "Did you hear that? I heard a voice. Are we recording? We’d better be recording!"

  And, even once: "I saw something. A figure, with no head—let’s follow it! No! it's gone. Vanished into the wall. Is that blood?"

  "It seems like a bit much," Michael said at one point.

  Hazel raised her brows. "You think?"

  Michael nodded sheepishly at that. "I didn't say I believed everything they did, but they are entertaining. On YouTube."

  Hazel shrugged. She might not understand the appeal of all those YouTube shows, but people in Michael's age range obviously did.

  Unlike Cameron, Tess didn’t say anything. No ominous poetry. No staring into dark corners and pointing a trembling finger at what she saw. She floated about, looking at everything as if not really seeing it.

  Hazel thought about asking how Tess knew Cameron but bit her lip.

  Not her business. Plus, her mother would be a better person to ask. She, at least, would explain it clearly.

  Before the deluge of tours started, they hadn't had a good chance to go through the upstairs, and now that she did, she found it was a series of overly large bedrooms.

  The one that gave her pause was the door that had Dora’s name on it.

  Michael sucked in a breath as they stepped inside.

  Tess stayed in the doorway.

  It looked like the other bedrooms, though there was an air of soberness that hung over it that Hazel hadn’t felt anywhere but the study. The curtains were sheer gauze, and the bed a large canopied affair with a white quilt heavily embroidered in off-white.

  There was delicate whitewashed wicker furniture, and a huge window that faced Lake Celeste. Hazel wasn’t sure if the windows opened. If they did, the room hadn’t been aired out in ages. It smelled strongly of musty dust and old things, like the attic of an antique store.

  Despite that, it would be an amazing room to grow up in. Especially since the bedroom itself was about the same size as Hazel's living room.

  "People back then sure did know how to live," Michael said with a whistle.

  "Well, the rich did. Nobody else was this lucky."

  Anthony Ray sniffed around the room, and Hazel loosened her grip on the leash so he could go of his own free will as she and Michael took pictures. The cat stalked near a bookcase for a while, sniffing and scratching at the wood, and let out a loud meow.

 
Hazel snapped a few pictures, but otherwise she couldn't see what he was trying to get at. “Is there a dead mouse under there? Maybe it's a live one. Well, I can't pull it aside and find out," she said and picked up his leash.

  “This room’s aura is as dark as midnight," Tess muttered.

  “I can see just fine in here," Michael said and snapped a few pictures.

  “Dora planned and plotted here, but the truth is not so clear."

  So, she was back to riddles. Hazel sighed. “Have you seen any spirits yet? Any place I should photograph to catch one for Ms. Corning?"

  Tess met Hazel’s eyes, wide and unblinking behind her huge glasses. She didn’t say anything, only stared.

  Thankfully, Josh trotted up the stairs then, slightly out of breath, though his face was pale. “We’re ready to head upstairs. You guys look beat."

  Hazel nodded. “Right. We’ll head to the third floor."

  Tess drifted out of the doorway and up the hall.

  "Something about being told I look tired rubs me the wrong way," Hazel said after Josh left. "Even when it's true."

  Michael gave her a weary grin. "I don't think you look that tired. I mean, you look way more tired in the morning before your coffee."

  She shook her head. "Not helping."

  The final set of stairs led to the third floor and servant’s quarters. The stairway was a narrow one, with whitewashed walls on either side and none of the sweeping grandeur of the staircase that led to the second floor.

  The rooms were unadorned. They each looked almost exactly the same. With four twin beds, two dressers, and one vanity. There were four rooms in total, which meant it could've housed sixteen servants at its prime.

  Though, as far as she knew, the only other people who had been killed, besides Mr. Pearl, was a maid, the cook, and Henry, the stable hand.

  The maid and cook had been up here the last morning they'd been alive, and they had no idea they were going to be horribly murdered that night by a crazed merchant's son in a fit of jealousy.

  She sighed and went back to taking photos.

  Michael had gone down to the end of the hall to take pictures of the servant’s bathroom, so Hazel was left alone near the staircase. For once, she didn't hear Cameron Killian carrying on about all the supernatural things he was experiencing.