The Haunting of Bechdel Mansion: A Haunted House Mystery- Book 0

by Roger Hayden

  “Look out!” Mary shouted.

  Curtis slammed the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt. Mary flew forward, and then was thrust back as her seat belt locked. Bags catapulted from the backseat. Mary’s purse hit the dashboard. The moving truck behind them slammed its brakes just as Mary glanced into the rearview mirror, startled.

  Frightened, the boy lost balance and tipped over, falling onto the pavement as the grille of the SUV came within inches of him. Their moving truck screeched to a halt. Mary grabbed her armrest and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes and turned to see the truck right at their rear bumper.

  “Crap… that was a close one,” Curtis said in a dazed state.

  Mary then turned to see the boy struggling on the ground in front of them. She opened her door, stepped outside, and rushed to the front as heads turned from pedestrians around them.

  “Mary, what are you doing?” Curtis called out as her door slammed shut.

  The boy was in the process of pushing himself up when she came to his aid, arms out and instinctively protective of him.

  “Are you all right?” she said, kneeling down.

  The boy’s shaggy red hair bobbed up and down with a nod as he tried to speak. With the bike pinning him down, he looked plenty distracted.

  “Here, let me help,” Mary said, pulling his bike up. The boy was able to move more freely and seemed less panicky than before. She heard Curtis’s door open as he stepped out and approached them.

  “Is he okay?” he asked.

  Mary took the boy’s hand and carefully helped him up, brushing his thick bangs out of his eyes. “There. Everything’s okay. Your bike’s fine, and it looks like you just have a tiny scratch on your elbow.”

  “Uh huh,” the boy said as his big eyes looked downward with slight embarrassment.

  “You need to be more careful, little buddy. That was a close one,” Curtis said from behind them.

  The boy nodded again as Mary rubbed his shoulders. He then turned from them and got back on his bike as though nothing had happened.

  “It’s all right,” Mary said. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks,” the boy said, glancing up at her. She knew that they were complete strangers in his eyes, but she maintained her friendly smile as the boy quickly pedaled away without looking back.

  “Can you believe that?” Curtis said with his hands on his hips. “My heart is still racing. Should have a talk with that kid’s parents.”

  Mary rubbed his chest as she made her way back to the car. “Let’s just keep going. We already have enough people looking at us.”

  Curtis turned and followed her back to the idling car and got in. Still shaken, he slowly accelerated and then drove off as people continued to stare. There was no doubt that they had already made an impression in town. That was, if anyone made the connection with the moving truck behind them. They passed a few more buildings and then turned left off Main Street onto a road that ran along a glistening lake that stretched for a mile into the distance.

  Some locals were fishing around the lake, in ankle-high grass as endless forest stretched behind them on the horizon. Curtis steered along the wide curve in the two-lane road, still frustrated.

  “Can’t believe he just came out in front of us like that. Where were his parents?”

  “He’s just a kid,” Mary said. “Be grateful nothing bad happened.”

  “Nearly had a heart attack,” Curtis said, shaking his head. “You just don’t dart out into the road like that.”

  Mary said no more and looked out her window as they drove past homes concealed within the forest brush, spread out, with No Trespassing signs posted on guideposts and gates blocking the dirt-trail entrances. The rural homeowners seemed to revel in their privacy, and privacy was exactly what Curtis and Mary were looking for.

  “How much farther?” Mary asked.

  “About five miles down here,” Curtis said. “Excited?”

  “I am,” she said.

  Curtis looked away, convinced enough. Mary glanced at the dashboard clock. It was a little after three.

  As they continued down the road, the homes became more sporadic. Soon Mary didn’t see any. Were they really going to live out here? What were they going to do with a two-story, ten-thousand-square-foot mansion? Mary closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves while telling herself that she had to give it a chance.

  She then had a sudden vision of a large hall with open windows and thin white curtains blowing in the wind. A distant voice called to her from the darkness at the end of the hall, where she could see the faint glow of red eyes. Her heart seized, and she couldn’t move. She snapped out of it, clutching her chest with a gasp.

  “What is it?” Curtis asked, looking over with concern.

  “Nothing…” she said, rubbing her head. “I was… just thinking about that boy. How terrible it would’ve been.”

  Curtis took her hand again and squeezed. “No need to worry.” He tapped his steering wheel. “You’re looking at the model of a safe driver here.”

  Mary smiled even though she still didn’t feel right. The closer they got to the mansion, the worse she began to feel. She squeezed her forehead again while holding Curtis’s hand. She felt dizzy, frightened even. Curtis must have noticed something wrong with her as she nodded forward.

  “Mary? Mary!”

  Before she knew it, her head dropped down and hit the dashboard and she was out cold.

  Homestead

  Mary woke up, reclining in a chair inside a large, empty room, with an icepack over her forehead and a paramedic at her side, checking her vitals. She had no idea how long she had been there. From the window, the sun was still out, and she could hear movement all around her. Curtis was nowhere to be seen.

  “Take it easy, ma’am,” the young male paramedic said to her as she began to rise. “You passed out a little while ago and your husband called us out here.”

  “Where am I?” she asked, looking around the room in wonder.

  “You’re at your new house. We brought you in about twenty minutes ago.” He paused, shaking his head. “Weirdest thing. Our ambulance wouldn’t start. I’m going to have one hell of a word with the maintenance department.” He then looked at her with a matter-of-fact demeanor. “We wanted to get you somewhere comfortable, so your husband suggested the house.”

  Having heard enough, she rose from the chair, touched her sore neck and scanned the empty room where boxes were strewn across the floor.

  “You should give yourself sometime,” the paramedic said, handing her a water bottle. “Your husband told us that you two have been through a lot. Could have been a panic attack or stress fatigue. Anything’s possible.”

  She took the bottle and drank from it, thanking him.

  “My name’s Chet, by the way. Welcome to Redwood.”

  “Thank you,” she said, walking past him and looking around the room. Its faded walls and vaulted ceiling seemed familiar to her. She had the strangest feeling that she was in the living room.

  The paramedic followed her, concerned, as she left the room and walked through large double doors which were propped open, revealing the busy courtyard outside. So many people! She shielded her face as she walked down the steps and through the crowds of unfamiliar faces who were moving around the courtyard in a dizzying bustle, purposeful and busy.

  She turned to face the mansion as it towered over her. Its faded gray walls were covered in winding vines, growing from the green brush which spread on all sides. Its windows were thick with grime and dust. Its arching roof was covered in leaves and debris, gutters full. A deck on the second floor overlooked the entire property.

  An empty fountain sat in the middle of the courtyard, filled to the brim with branches and dead leaves. Mary turned back to the mansion, taking in its looming presence. This was it. This was where they were going to live. It didn’t look nearly as dilapidated as it had appeared in her dream
s.

  They had hired a renovation team weeks ahead. There were several landscapers on site, eradicating decades of overgrown foliage. Men with pressure hoses sprayed the front of the house, gradually turning the hard exterior surface from gray to white. There were also painters on site, janitorial services, carpenters, and other renovation teams. Mary lost count of them all. She shuddered to think of the cost. Financially, she hoped that it would be worth it.

  Their moving truck was parked next to the courtyard fountain, backed in near the front door. Curtis stood at the rear, directing the movers as they unloaded their living-room set, placing various pieces of furniture around the courtyard. Mary felt strangely detached, and she couldn’t pinpoint why.

  The sun was temporarily concealed by passing clouds, providing some much-needed shade. She looked to the driveway circling the courtyard, where a line of vans and trucks were parked. Even with all the work going on, there was still a lot more work to do. The thought of cobwebs and rodents alone made her queasy. Despite her lingering apprehension, she couldn’t help but feel the excitement in the air. They actually owned a mansion. Everything that had brought them to this moment seemed unreal.

  She walked along the pebbled ground toward the moving truck to talk to Curtis. She had seen pictures of the mansion before, but now within its presence she felt as though she had walked the same path many times before. She stopped beside the moving truck and looked up at the center balcony, where a white curtain flowed into the air from an open window, its fabric torn.

  A pest-control van pulled up next to her, out of nowhere, and parked behind the long line of vehicles. She took in the disorienting sounds of the pressure washers, gas-powered hedge trimmers, and lawn mowers around her. There was so much activity going on, she didn’t know what she could do, if anything, to lend a hand. Everything had already been set in motion. Curtis had seen to that. What could she do but accept their brash relocation?

  She approached Curtis as he directed the movers from the rear of the truck. “What happened?” she asked, startling him.

  The paramedic following her then cut in. “I explained to your wife the best I could. All her vitals are good. She just needs to take it easy.”

  He turned around with sweat stains showing through his white polo shirt. “You gave us quite a scare,” he said. “That’s what happened.”

  “When did I pass out?” she asked, struggling to form the question.

  “About five minutes from here. Your head hit the dashboard, and you were out cold. I pulled over and tried to wake you.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, confused.

  She turned to see the ambulance in the courtyard with its hood open and another mechanic tinkering with the engine.

  Curtis turned away from the movers and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Maybe it’s the heat. I can’t believe the ambulance broke down. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m very sorry, sir,” the paramedic said. “That’s never happened before.”

  Curtis shrugged. “Not your fault. Maybe it’s time to trade her in.”

  “Maybe…” the paramedic said.

  Mary said nothing as Curtis looked into her eyes with genuine concern. “How do you feel now?”

  “Better,” she said with a faint smile.

  He then turned to her, and with a flourish he extended his arm out toward the mansion. “Well, then. Would you like a personal tour of the premises now, Mrs. Malone?”

  “A tour would be great.”

  She put her arm around his as they walked off together, past the courtyard, toward the marble steps leading inside. As the hired workers moved around them, Mary felt invisible. Arm in arm, they ascended the front steps, leading to the large double-door entrance. The more she saw of the mansion, the more she felt at home.

  Anticipation for what lay ahead increased with each step. Mist from the pressure washer fell onto her arm from afar. Much of the grime and buildup on the right side of the house had already been removed. They reached the top step, and Mary could see a darkened foyer ahead.

  “Oh,” Curtis said. “Still trying to get the power on out here.” She followed him inside and could see rays of light hitting dusty hardwood floors from the open windows. “Got the water turned on, though,” he added with pride.

  “So… no power?” Mary asked.

  Curtis let out a nervous laugh. “Trying to get ’em out here today, but it’s not looking good.”

  Mary thought to herself for a moment. “Maybe we should just find a hotel for the time being.”

  “Nonsense,” Curtis said with a squeeze around her waist. “It’s our first night. We have to stay.”

  “But there’s no power,” Mary said. “And this place is a dust bowl.”

  She looked down the vast empty foyer and observed its cobweb-covered chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling above. Ahead of them was a long, winding staircase to the second floor. There were halls at both ends of the foyer, leading to a variety of different rooms. Though there was plenty to explore, she felt a strange knowledge of the layout without even looking.

  “Shall we continue, my dear?” Curtis asked.

  She turned her head, smiling and feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Sure. I just don’t know where to start.”

  Curtis released her and backed away, pulling a folded paper from his pocket. “I’ve got a layout here.” He unfolded the paper as Mary looked down the dark hall to their left.

  Curtis pulled a mini flashlight from his pocket and shined a light on the map. The endless symphony of pressure washers, hedge trimmers, and leaf blowers continued outside, unabated. Mary walked to the center of the foyer. Her soft shoes barely made a sound on the dusty hardwood floors. She looked to her right toward an adjacent room that could very well be considered an extension of the foyer, though she found something peculiar about it.

  “The lounge…” she said softly. “Is this where it happened?”

  “Sorry?” Curtis said, holding the layout under his mini flashlight.

  “Nothing,” Mary said. “How big is the kitchen?”

  Curtis scanned the layout, trying to answer. “Kitchen?”

  Mary turned to her right and began walking.

  “Yeah, that way,” he said, looking up. He hurried to catch up with her as she continued down the dark hall. Mary stopped in her tracks and looked up as Curtis stopped beside her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah…” she said in a distant tone. She closed her eyes and touched her forehead, sighing.

  He caressed her shoulder with concern. “Maybe you should lie down. I don’t want you to pass out on me again.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s see the kitchen,” she said, walking ahead. She then looked up to the ledge of the second floor and stopped as though she saw something.

  Curtis halted as his shoes squeaked against the floor. “What is it?”

  “Just thought I saw something,” Mary said. “Never mind.”

  “Well, that’s creepy,” Curtis said. He then put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Just remember, a long time has passed, and we should have nothing to worry about.”

  She looked at him with a smile. “I suppose you’re right. I just want to find out more about it.”

  “How about we go to town tomorrow? They have this library. It’s so quaint, you’d love it.”

  Mary nodded and continued down the hall and entered a long, empty room with two windows on each side—caked with enough dirt and grime to block the sunlight from entering.

  “This is the dining room,” Curtis said, shining his flashlight around.

  Mary looked around in awe. “Enormous…”

  The air was stuffy and smelled of old wood. Curtis went to the first window at his right and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. He handed the map and flashlight to Mary and turned back to the window, pushing up against it. “This is ridiculous,” he said, grunting. “We need to get all these
opened and air this place out.”

  Suddenly, the front doors swung wide open down the hall at the foyer and the movers entered, looking for Curtis. Curtis looked up and turned to Mary. “Oh, right. I almost forgot about them. Can we continue the tour later?”

  “No problem,” Mary said. “I’ll keep looking around.”

  Curtis walked off and met with the movers, leaving Mary to explore on her own. She approached the window he couldn’t open and ran her hands down the warm glass, trailing lines of dust. Now that they had started, she felt the urge to explore every room in the house, top to bottom. She approached a set of double doors at the end of the dining room, eager to see the kitchen beyond, with its simple amenities.

  She turned both knobs and pulled the heavy oak doors open, and dank, musty air hit her. Like the rest of the house, all the windows were closed and caked with years of dirt and mildew buildup. She entered the kitchen, switching on the flashlight. Dust rained down as she moved the light through the darkened room. There were several countertops, and cabinets that reached the ceiling. The kitchen looked as though it could have been considered at one time the height of elegance.

  There was a large industrial-sized antique stove in the corner. She wondered if it was still operational. To her immediate right was a sink the size of a bathtub and flat, dusty countertops that stretched the entire length of the room, with more cabinets overhead than she would ever know what to do with.

  She walked along the tiled floor past the thick granite countertops and came upon a vast pantry with dozens of shelves bolted to plaster walls. There was energy in the room that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  She walked away from the pantry, exploring the rest of the layout, when suddenly, a jolting clang rang out as something hit the floor a few feet ahead of her. She jumped and raised her flashlight, only to see a metallic ladle on the ground, fallen from a nearby hook on the wall. The kitchen needed work. That much was clear. She had seen enough, though, and walked with haste back through the dining hall to the foyer, where the movers were carrying in boxes. Curtis stood to the side talking on his cell phone, pacing back and forth.