by Louise Lynn
In fact, she didn't hear anything from the second floor.
Odd.
Josh said they were going upstairs, right? Well, whatever was happening down there, they could hurry it up.
She hadn’t seen Tess since they went up to the third floor. However, she decided not to worry about it. Tess was probably communing with spirits or whatever it was she did.
Since she'd already photographed all the servant’s rooms, she had to wait for them to finish on the second floor before she could leave. She peered out the window and snapped a few pictures of Lake Celeste in the moonlight. She wasn’t sure if they’d turn out, but she may as well try.
An odd noise broke the heavy stillness, faint but perceptible. A steady clomp, click, clomp, click that she remembered as a girl at the old Lodgepole park. A western TV show from the 1960s had been filmed there, and it had been turned into a tourist attraction. They had horses and a few carnival type rides along with the show’s old sets.
Horse hooves. That’s what the sound was.
But why would Patricia have a horse here?
She squinted out the window, but couldn’t see anything in the shadows that resembled a horse, and after a few moments, the sound stopped.
Heart hammering, Hazel took a deep breath. It was just a coincidence. Someone with a horse. No big deal.
She plopped down in a wooden chair in front of one of the vanities and waited.
Anthony Ray paced near her feet, and he kept looking toward the door, which was open to the hallway. From there, she could see the shadows cast on the white wall from the dim lights in the sconces, and the darkness that the stairs descended into.
She heard footsteps from the floor below, and perhaps from Michael farther along.
Somewhere in the house, a door pulled shut.
Then, silence.
Hazel took a moment to check her phone for the first time that evening.
She had a text from Violet, that was just a series of ghost and Halloween emoji's with a big smiley at the end.
Hazel chuckled at that, even if she didn’t know what it meant.
And then, she had one from Sheriff Cross as well that said: Good luck with the spirits.
He even added a winking emoji at the end.
She imagined him winking, and her stomach fluttered. Her mind drifted to other thoughts of Colton, when she heard a bloodcurdling scream rock through the house.
Hazel jumped to her feet. "Michael?" she called, but her assistant didn't answer.
Then, with her hand loose on the leash, Anthony Ray took that moment to tug himself free. He darted down the stairs into darkness, and Hazel followed.
She nearly tripped, and at that point forced herself to slow, gripping the railing.
“Anthony Ray, get back here!"
“What?"
“Michael?"
"I'm on the third floor, where are you?" Michael said from somewhere behind her.
Hazel turned to call to him, and that's when all the lights went out.
Chapter 5
Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic.
Hazel repeated that mantra as she clung to the railing and willed her heart to slow down.
So, she was stuck in an infamous murder house and the lights had just gone out. And, on top of that, there'd been a horrible bloodcurdling scream moments before.
She’d experienced something similar in her youth, but that had been in the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland, and not quite so frightening. Now, she heard nothing but the pounding of her own heart, and the creaking of an old house.
Or was that footsteps?
"Can't see anything," Michael said. He sounded small and far away.
"Me neither. Wait, hold on," she said and shook her head as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. It's what the kids used as a flashlight these days when they didn't carry one around.
She didn't have the app that made the screen brighter than it normally was, but it would have to suffice. Slowly and carefully, she made her way to the foot of the servant’s stairs. They hadn’t seemed so steep before, but then, she hadn’t gone down them in pitch blackness either.
"Josh? Emma? Tess?" she called, but no one answered.
A sense of dread settled over her, and she shook it aside. This house wasn't haunted. Nothing bad had happened here recently. She didn't have anything to be afraid of now.
The headless ghost was not real.
Dimly, she thought she heard footsteps moving slow, then their pace quickened.
For a moment, she swore the footsteps ran near her, but when she put out her arms, she only caught cold, empty air.
They faded and were replaced with the sound of something scratching.
Slow.
Methodical.
Like nails on wood.
Another shiver went through her body, and she forced herself to move forward.
This was ridiculous. If Colton were here, he’d wave his flashlight, knock on doors, demanding to be let inside. Well, she didn't have any official police training in that regard, but she could still try.
All the doors on the second floor were shut, so she tried each knob and peered inside the room. The first suite was empty, as were the others.
That left Dora’s room.
Hazel swallowed as she approached the door.
When she put her hand on the knob, it didn't turn.
Locked.
But who locked that door?
"Oh, help me, please," a male voice called from inside.
For a moment, she thought it was Josh, then—no.
“Cameron? Can you unlock the door?"
Silence.
Hazel sucked in a breath and was about to speak again when she heard a weak voice on the other side. "I was wrong. So wrong. It was—“
Whatever he was going to say was abruptly cut short by a sharp gasping gurgle, and Hazel swore she heard another few creaks before silence settled in again.
She glanced up and down the dark hallway and swore she caught a hint of movement in the distance, something pale and floaty, but in the darkness it was impossible to tell.
“Tess?"
No one answered.
And Cameron might be hurt.
Something weird definitely was going on here.
Hazel called Sheriff Cross.
* * *
Since the Pearl House was located near the edge of town, it didn't take Sheriff Cross long to get there, no more than ten minutes. Deputies arrived first, and Hazel still hadn't made her way downstairs when they burst through the front door.
She heard confusion from below, and a surprised Deputy Simmons say: "Anthony Ray? Where's Hazel?"
"Trying to make my way downstairs without killing myself," she called.
"What's going on? Where’s Cameron?" Emma said, her eyes wide and wild, and approached the deputies. Her face was a pale mask. Her hair had a coating of dust on it, probably from the basement.
Hazel rushed down the rest of the stairs, and Anthony Ray ran to greet her, winding around her feet. She grabbed his leash, and frowned at Emma. "He's in a locked bedroom upstairs, and I think he's in trouble."
Simmons frowned. “The door is locked?"
Hazel nodded and bit her lip to avoid saying something sarcastic.
"If he's in trouble, why aren’t you helping him?" Emma cried and charged up the stairs, her flashlight beam bouncing in front of her.
"What's going on? The cops again? We didn't do anything wrong," Josh said as he approached, putting a hand in front of his face to stop the glare of the flashlights pointed in his direction. He brushed something off his shirt that looked like a spiderweb. Earlier, they’d both looked put together.
Was this the result of ghost hunting or something else?
Hazel explained the situation, and his face paled. He charged up after Emma, and Deputy Simmons followed.
Hazel did the same.
When she arrived, Michael and Tess were there as well, and they were huddled in the wide hal
lway. Tess’s eyes, magnified by her huge glasses, looked even wider and more owl-like than normal. She was as white as a sheet and kept shaking her head and making odd little noises under her breath. It sounded like she was praying.
Hazel wondered where Tess had gone, and when Michael had stumbled upon her. She’d ask later.
Emma pounded on the door and called to Cameron. "He's not answering. Well, break it down!"
Deputy Simmons looked helpless. "Look, we don't know that it's a life or death situation and without the Sheriff's okay I don't want to go battering down a historic landmark’s door."
That sounded like something her father would say, and Hazel shook her head. "It sounded bad, and I'm pretty sure a door can be replaced," she said and looked at the lock. "Anyone have the key?"
“Matters not. Matters not," Tess whispered and shook her head.
Emma’s eyes flashed and she shot a terrible glare at Tess. "Cam has all the keys," she said, her voice breaking into a sob.
Well, that made things more complicated. Not to mention the door looked to be made of solid wood, and not one that could easily be broken down without a battering ram, which would most definitely ruin the doorframe as well.
She could just imagine Patricia Corning's anger at that.
"I brought the calvary," Sheriff Cross's voice rang from down the hallway.
Hazel whipped around, a wave of relief washing over her. "Calvary?"
Violet popped her head around from behind her uncle and grinned sleepily. "I said I wanted to check out the haunted house, but not like this. What's up? Locked door?" she said and pulled out a little tool kit that Hazel had never seen before.
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, this one. Are you a locksmith and I didn't know it?"
Violet blushed and brushed her hair behind her ears. She was in her pajamas, Hazel could tell from the faded leggings and oversized sweatshirt she wore. "I got bored the summer before last and took a locksmith class. I got my level II certification."
Hazel laughed. Of course, she did.
Sheriff Cross shrugged. "She's better than I am. I only have my level I certification," he said and then turned to Deputy Simmons to be caught up.
Violet made quick work of the lock, and Hazel was amazed what the girl could do in such poor lighting without even a proper keyhole to work with. There was only a small hole in the doorknob, so small Hazel hardly even noticed it.
At some point Sheriff Cross ordered them to call Patricia and an ambulance.
Finally, Violet stood up, beaming, and turned the handle.
The door didn't budge much. It swung open about an inch and then stopped.
Hazel looked at the floor and grabbed Violet, pulling her back.
A dark substance spilled out from under it, and with a quick glance, she knew exactly what it was.
Tess and Michael both gasped and moved away as well.
"I don't think an ambulance is going to be of much use," she said to Sheriff Cross.
His lips drew into a line. "Good thing I have the morgue on speed dial."
Chapter 6
“What do you mean dead? He can't be dead. Cam? Cam, talk to me!" Emma screamed, and tried to rip open the door.
With a look at the Sheriff, Deputy Simmons dragged her away.
Emma’s voice cracked. “Get help! He could be alive. You don’t even know!"
Hazel bit her bottom lip, and Sheriff Cross sighed.
That was the thing—with so much blood, they did know.
Violet and Michael headed downstairs as soon as they saw the blood, leaving Sheriff Cross and Hazel alone on the landing for the moment.
"Well, in order to assess the scene, I'm going to have to disturb it, unless there's an easy way to climb in the window," he said and pointed to the other side of the door.
Hazel shook her head. “I’m not even sure the windows open from the musty smell in here. So probably not. Sorry."
He carefully nudged the door. There was a heavy thump on the other side, and he squeezed in the narrow opening.
Hazel scooped up her cat and sucked in a breath to do the same, doing her best to avoid stepping in any of the blood. Both because she didn't want to contaminate the crime scene further, and due to the fact she didn't want to get blood on her new suede ankle boots.
Sheriff Cross shone his flashlight on the scene and shut the door behind her.
Hazel steeled herself and peeked.
First, she saw all the blood.
So much blood.
Yeah, there was no way he could've lived when it was nearly drained out of him. Not to mention the presence of an axe in his head—reminiscent of Jimbo the night before.
"Déjà vu?"
Sheriff Cross nodded. "I was going to say the same thing. I guess we know what killed him."
Hazel nodded, and she hugged Anthony Ray to her chest. No way she could let him go traipsing around this crime scene. He'd get his paws bloody. "He was alive for a few minutes. I probably heard his last words," she said quietly.
Sheriff Cross’s expression brightened, and he whipped out his notepad. "Do you remember what he said? Be as exact as you can."
Hazel sucked in a breath and tried to remember. "He begged for help, and said he got something wrong. That was it. What if the killer was in the room with him? I heard footsteps and scratching noises, but I swear no one passed me in the hall."
Sheriff Cross glanced around the room. "It's a bit dark in here for a crime scene shoot, but we have some spare spotlights in my SUV. We won’t know anything until we give it a proper look." He then called some of the deputies to bring them up.
Hazel nodded. "Yeah, with the lights in here, that'll work fine. I hope you know I’m charging you overtime for this."
Sheriff Cross grinned and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Well, it didn't look like she’d get home anytime soon, but at least she was in good company.
* * *
She wasn't sure when Patricia Corning eventually arrived, but Hazel was about halfway through with her crime scene shoot when the woman appeared. She heard Patricia howling outside and her faint footfalls racing up the stairs. "I knew it! This house is evil. The ghost! It was the ghost!"
"I can assure you a ghost didn't kill Mr. Killian," Sheriff Cross said more kindly than Hazel could have managed at that hour. Unfortunately, the rest of their conversation was lost as he led Patricia downstairs.
Hazel didn't like being in the room alone with Cameron Killian's corpse, but she dealt with it. She'd already finished with the body. She always found it best to get that part over with first, so she turned to finish the tiny details around the room.
Unlike the fake dead body the day before, the blood splatter here seemed to match, and there was a lot of it.
Sheriff Cross's deputies had already come in and put little paper numbers next to all the splotches, and she photographed them each separately. When she arrived at the window, she raised an eyebrow. Just like she thought, they didn't open. But it wasn't because they weren’t made to open.
Someone had nailed them shut.
The nails were old and rusted, and she wondered if they had been there since the turn-of-the-century. Had Dora’s father put them there to keep her from running off at night?
A shiver went up her spine at that thought.
Finally, after the medical examiner removed the body from the scene, she turned her attention to the door. It had been locked, but there didn't seem to be a button or a way to turn a lock from the inside. There was only a keyhole.
When she looked at the door handle on the outside, there was a tiny hole, but not one that would fit a proper key. What sort of lock was that?
She’d have to ask Patricia Corning.
With a sigh, Hazel turned off her Pentax and headed downstairs.
"Finished?" Deputy Simmons asked and handed her a cup of something steaming when she got to the first floor.
She was about to say she didn't want to be kept up any longer than
necessary, then she realized it was tea. "Yeah. For now," she said and took a grateful sip. Chamomile. She didn't know if it would help calm her nerves after the night she'd had, but it couldn't hurt. “Did you guys find out why the power went off?"
Deputy Simmons nodded. “The breaker tripped. Ms. Corning says that happens a lot because of the ghosts."
Hazel furrowed her brow and took another sip of the tea. Ghosts hadn’t thrown the breaker, and hardly any lights were on. Surely not enough to cause the whole house to go dark. It seemed more likely someone had done it to cause confusion enough to kill Cameron.
She didn't see Emma, Josh, or Tess anywhere, but the front door was wide open and the shadows from the flashing red and blue lights shone inside.
Sheriff Cross was in the sitting room with Patricia Corning. The woman was wrapped in a blanket. She had her own cup of tea in front of her. The soft glow of lamplight filled the room, thanks to the restored power.
Anthony Ray wound around Sheriff Cross’s ankles and gave them a meow of protest every once in a while. It was way past his bedtime.
"You have no idea who might have had something against Cameron? Maybe something against you?" Sheriff Cross asked, which was a common line of questioning.
Patricia shook her head. Her neat gray hair looked as wild as Maureen’s on a good day. Her eyes were wet. "Me? I haven't lived here in twenty years. So no, I don't know of any enemies. As for Mr. Killian, I hired him off the Internet. He could have countless enemies. I don’t know. I only met him the other day. But I know who did this, Sheriff Cross. You have to believe me."
Sheriff Cross’s lips drew into a line. "I know what you're going to say and–"
"The headless ghost did it! It had to be him. How was Cameron killed? It was an axe, wasn't it? I heard the deputies talking about it."
Hazel stepped into the doorway, and Anthony Ray trotted toward her and let out another meow. She scooped him up, and his cold wet nose pressed into hers. "Can I ask a question?"