For the Love of Lisa

by Callie Norse

  “That is so sad. They probably didn’t have playpens back then,” Greg said.

  They read on for a short time, when Greg hit on something else. “It says here John Winchell was convicted of the murder of Agatha Brown. He was sentenced to life in prison.”

  “This box sure is informative. Too bad we didn’t stumble across this box the first time we were up there.” Marta leaned over and kissed Greg. They had been sitting for hours. “Don’t you think it’s time for a break, honey?”

  “Sweetie, I would love nothing more. I’m afraid if we break we will move on to things we shouldn’t, with Maggie here. I’m almost through the newspaper clippings, only a few more. Then we will stop for some lunch. How’s that sound?” Greg wanted to keep reading.

  “I’d rather have dessert first!” Marta smiled that sly little smile of hers.

  Greg chuckled, “You are getting as bad as me!” He then became involved with the clippings again. Minutes later, he screamed. “Mart, you are not going to believe this! He hung himself in prison!”

  “Oh, my God! John, did?” Marta asked.

  “Yes, it says here they found him on morning check, hanging from the bars with a handmade rope, made from pieces of cord that he must have acquired from working in the mail room at the prison.” Greg was terribly excited at this point.

  “Hmmm, I would have thought he would have been in death row and not allowed out,” Marta replied.

  “Either they didn’t have a death row, or they allowed them out to work. Who knows how things were done back then. Prisons were probably quite primitive back in the early 1900s,” Greg stated.

  “Now, can we break for lunch? I’m tired of sitting.” Marta scooted her chair back, flexed her arms, and stretched her legs.

  “Sure, sweetie. Oh my, I have been so involved here, that I forgot to check on Maggie.”

  “You didn’t see her walk by us and go into the sewing room awhile ago?” Marta asked.

  “No, I didn’t. I guess I was too involved in these clippings. We really have learned a lot this morning. By the way, where is Toto? He was asleep in his bed when we started this.”

  “He must have followed Maggie into the sewing room.” Marta decided.

  Sure enough, Toto was on Maggie’s lap, as she sat in the wooden rocker in the sewing room. As she rocked, she was reading aloud as if she was reading to someone. Greg decided to ask, “Maggie, honey, are you reading to someone?”

  “Yes, Daddy, I’m reading to Johnny. He likes me to read to him.”

  “Who is Johnny?” Greg was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “He is my little friend, Daddy.”

  “How old is he? Is he your age?” Greg asked.

  “No, Daddy, he is just a baby. He can’t even walk yet, he only crawls.”

  Greg and Marta looked at one another, not knowing what to say next. Greg decided to leave it alone for now. Instead he asked, “Is anyone else in here with you?”

  “Grandma is here, too,” Maggie revealed.

  Greg looked over at Marta. She was just as amazed as he.

  Greg then asked, “Is she here often?”

  “Yes, she is here almost everyday. She talks to me and is really nice to me. I love her.”

  “Is anyone else here with you?” Greg continued to question.

  “Not today, Daddy, but sometimes Johnny’s mom, Agatha, is here.”

  “What does she do when she is here?” Greg was trying to stay calm.

  “Not much. She doesn’t talk much. She plays with Johnny some of the time. She seems very sad.” Maggie appeared to seem sad about this.

  “Does your mommy ever come here?” Greg went on.

  “Yes, she is here sometimes. She used to be here a lot. Now she can only come once in awhile,” Maggie calmly stated.

  “Why can’t she come more often?” Greg asked.

  “She is very busy up in heaven. She takes care of the little children who go to heaven. She says they need her, because they are so sad. They have no Mommy or Daddy up there with them. She comes to see me as much as she can. She says I have you and Marta here with me, and the other kids don’t have anybody with them.”

  Greg decided that was enough questions for one day. This was enough to absorb for now. To think there were several spirits in the house was a lot to take in. He and Marta went to the parlor to talk. Lunch no longer seemed important. They had suddenly lost their appetites.

  Marta was as stunned as Greg, “What do you think of all that?”

  “I knew the house must be haunted. I just had no idea there are so many here. And to think, Lisa’s mother is here most every day! And Lisa comes here, too! I did have an idea she had visited at least once.” There was now no doubt in Greg’s mind that it was Lisa who made passionate love to him, soon after her death, that night on the parlor floor. He had never told Marta about that and didn’t really care to share it with her now.

  “What made you think she had been here at least once?” Marta questioned.

  “I thought I felt her presence one night, that’s all.” He quickly changed the subject. “What do you think of Agatha being here?”

  Marta looked at Greg a little strangely, “I don’t know what to think of any of the spirits being here!”

  Greg agreed. Somehow he felt most disturbed over Agatha’s presence. To think someone who had been murdered so violently was now living under his roof, at least part of the time, caused him to be quite uneasy. It was weird enough to think her baby was in the house and that Maggie spent so much time with him.

  Greg shook his head, “Well, we have many of our answers, so what do we do now? I wanted the answers, but I think I feel worse now knowing them. I guess I’m glad that Lisa’s mom has been here all along to help Maggie cope with Lisa’s death, and I’m glad she has seen Lisa from time to time. The rest of them…we do not need!”

  “Greg, sweetie, you say we have many of our answers. Yes, we know who is here, but we still have some mysteries. We know the red, sticky substance appears where two deaths have occurred, but why? And why did it appear in the carriage house? Why was it coming from the trap door? Why did the water in the Jacuzzi turn red like the sticky substance? Why did the portrait of Isadora cry? Why did it flood the bedroom floor? And…with all these spirits, how do we know who raped you?”

  Greg thought for awhile. “It must have been Agatha. We can rule out Lisa’s mom, and Lisa certainly wouldn’t rape me, especially so violently. Somehow, I don’t feel it was Isadora. So, that leaves Agatha.”

  Just then something occurred to Marta. “What if there are even more spirits here?”

  “Good God, Mart, don’t we have enough here as it is?” Greg sounded almost angry.

  “It was just a thought. Sorry, if it upset you.”

  “The whole thing upsets me! I’m not upset with you. How could I ever be upset with you?”

  “Maybe we should talk about something else for awhile. This has all been a bit overwhelming. We need to concentrate on something else.” Marta was trying to calm him.

  “Yeah, like us,” Greg smiled that foxy smile of his, and scooted closer to Marta. “That’s the closest we have come to arguing. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It’s just that it upsets me to think this beautiful old Victorian home, Lisa’s and my dream, has become such a fiasco. Lisa loved this house so, and so did I. Now, I don’t know what to think. How can it ever be the same? I was planning on calling a realtor today. I couldn’t make myself do it. How can I sell Lisa’s dream, the last home she lived in? Now, with all we have uncovered, how can I dump these spirits on someone else? What are you smiling about, anyway?”

  “I don’t mean to be taking this all lightly—weren’t we going to change the subject?” Greg, drew her near, smiled, and began kissing her quite passionately.

  “Wow, what a switch!” Marta murmured, as her lips broke away from Greg’s before she replanted them on his. The kiss then became quite intense.

  “Careful, sweet
ie, Maggie is here and probably getting hungry by now,” Greg warned.

  “I almost forgot. And something else I almost forgot. I’m meeting a client at three. I really have to scoot soon, as much as I hate to.” Marta looked disappointed.

  “No more than I hate for you to leave. Tomorrow is our big night at The Towers. Don’t forget!” Greg teased.

  “Don’t worry about that, there is no way I will forget that!”

  They went to the kitchen and scrounged up lunch. Maggie was quite hungry. She wolfed it down and ran upstairs to check on Dorothy, with Toto on her heels.

  “At least she didn’t go back into the sewing room. That’s a plus!” Greg said.

  “I hate to say it, but it’s time for me to leave, honey,” Marta reminded Greg.

  Greg wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as if they would be separated for months. He missed her even before she left the drive.

  Eleven

  The long awaited night at The Towers had arrived. Greg, handsome, sexy and looking quite distinguished in a black tux, rang Marta’s doorbell. She answered the door, absolutely gorgeous in her sleek, black, spaghetti strap dress, which showed her deep cleavage. Her hair was styled in a fancy up do, with long wisps accentuating her lovely face. Once Greg caught his breath, it was all he could do to keep from making love to her right there. He wondered how he could make it through the evening without at least reaching in and touching her breasts.

  “What a way to start an evening!” he thought to himself. Instead, he held his tongue and said something more appropriate. “Hi, Sweetie, you look gorgeous!”

  Marta gleamed, “Why, thank you. You look quite handsome yourself!”

  Greg put his arms around her, and gave her a warm, lasting kiss, which she of course returned, careful not to smudge her bronzine lipstick.

  The Towers was at full capacity, as usual for New Years Eve, this being the finest and most elegant place in town. There must have been two hundred couples, all richly dressed in elegant gowns and tuxes. The evening began with an exquisite meal of lobster, served with a special sauce only served at The Towers. It was a rare occasion that Greg or Marta had lobster. It was especially pricey at The Towers, as everything was. Tonight was quite special for Marta and Greg; as it was their first formal date. Greg had definitely gone all out for this New Year’s Eve. Was this telling Marta what to expect in the days ahead?

  The evening was invitingly romantic with a full orchestra to dance to. This was the first Greg and Marta had danced together. Greg was amazed at how well Marta danced. She led at first, until he caught on. He was being taken in by her...he was definitely falling in love with her. He held her closely—so closely he could feel her heart racing. Her magnificent breasts were warm and delightful against his chest. Her bare backed dress, his hand touching her skin, gave rise to even more emotion. It had been a long time since he had felt such emotions. Greg knew she felt the same way. Neither regretted when the evening at The Towers concluded, as they were both anxious to express their love for one another.

  When they drove into the drive it was dark. They were too aroused to have noticed the dark cloud that enveloped the house, even if it had been light out. Greg fumbled with the key in the front door lock. He couldn’t think about anything else, other than making love to Marta. They made it to the spiral staircase before they began ripping off their own clothes—this seemed to be the quickest way. When Greg was down to his black, bikini briefs, it was quite obvious to Marta they no longer contained his erection. She thought she would orgasm just looking at him. He unfastened her black, satin bra, threw it on the staircase, laid her on the floor, and quickly removed her black, satin panties. There was no foreplay needed—thoughts on the dance floor had taken care of that. He tore his briefs off and quickly entered her. She was equally aroused—spasming even before he entered her. She was almost out of control from the start, screaming for more, wanting to be driven higher and higher. It was over almost before it started.

  “Wow, what just happened?” Greg was out of breath, smiling that cocky smile of his.

  “Wow, is right. Suppose we had too much to drink?” Marta wondered aloud.

  “It never gave me that kind of rush before!” he laughed. “It was great though!”

  They climbed the spiral staircase to the bedroom. It wasn’t over yet—after all, they had skipped the foreplay. Greg joked, “I want some afterplay!” And that they had! They kissed, sucked and tasted for quite some time. Marta was being taken higher than ever before. Greg didn’t know it was possible for a woman to orgasm so many times in one night. Once the fire died down some within them, they kissed warmly, and dozed off awhile. When they awoke, they again made love—gently and affectionately—holding, touching, and kissing. They both felt this was the turning point of their relationship. They knew it was now much more than just sex. Greg cradled Marta in his arms all through the night while they slept.

  Toward morning, Greg awoke to the terrible stench. He opened his eyes to find the red substance had flooded the floor. He awakened Marta, and they quickly threw on some clothes. As they ran out the bedroom door, Greg caught a glimpse of the Jacuzzi. It was bubbling rapidly with the blood-like substance overflowing down the sides of the tub. When they got to the hall, they could see it was also flowing down the spiral staircase. The grand drawing room floor, and possibly the floor of the entire house was flooded with the red stuff. Greg’s keys were in the pocket of his trousers, which had been left on the floor by the staircase. His trousers now must be under the red substance, as they were nowhere to be seen. He reached his hands into the substance and felt around for his trousers. He grabbed hold of the trousers and felt for the pocket. Once he located the pocket, he felt inside—there were no keys there. He and Marta both groped through the blood-like substance searching for them. Finally, Greg’s hand snagged onto them. He took Marta’s hand and they fled out the front door.

  He wiped the keys off on his clothes and inserted them into the ignition. The Tahoe failed to start. Greg was panicking. He again wiped the keys off—it fired, only to die. Again, he wiped the keys, almost dropping them on the floor. He was shaking so badly, he couldn’t guide the key into the ignition. “Please, God,” he pleaded. The key went in. He gave it a turn. Finally, it started. Driving erratically, he fled the driveway not knowing where he was headed. One thing he did know was that he was not going back to that haunted house. Eerie things had occurred before. Greg felt this time was different—whatever it was in that house was trying to end their lives.

  How could his and Lisa’s dream home have gone so wrong? Marta was sobbing, becoming more and more frightened by Greg’s reckless driving. It was snowing, and the roads were slick. She couldn’t get him to come to his senses and slow down. The Tahoe went off the road and began sliding down a steep embankment, picking up speed as it traveled. It flipped over, landed upside down, and continued on down the hillside until it hit a tree. It then flipped over on its side, pinning Greg in. Marta was knocked unconscious. When she came to, she was confused as to what had happened. Greg was lifeless, his head buried in the air bag. There was blood everywhere...blood and the red substance from the house, which was all over them from searching for the keys. “Oh, my God, he’s dead!” she thought. She unfastened her seat belt and reached over to feel for a pulse. It was weak, but he was alive. Her purse was now hanging from the rear view mirror, flung there from the crash. She reached in and clutched her cell phone fumbling to call 911.

  At that moment, she realized a man on OnStar was talking. “Can anyone hear me? Mr. Carrington, are you okay? An ambulance is on its way.”

  At the same time, a voice from her cell phone was saying, “Can I help you? Is there a problem?” The lady on the other end of the cell phone could hear OnStar saying an ambulance was on its way. She was grateful to hear this, as she had no idea where Marta was calling from, and Marta was of no help. Marta was quite shaken and didn’t know where they were.

  The ambulance soon arrived
. It was difficult for the paramedics to reach them, as the embankment was extremely steep. They radioed for help when they saw how far down the embankment the vehicle was. The Jaws of Life was needed to free Greg. By the time he was freed, valuable time had been lost. He had lost a great amount of blood.

  Marta had reluctantly been placed in an ambulance. She overheard one of the paramedics say, “This looks bad; this guy will be lucky if he makes it to the hospital.”

  Marta began to scream hysterically and passed out. When she came to, she was in the hospital. No one would tell her anything. She couldn’t see Greg anywhere. “Oh, my God,” she thought. “He’s dead.”

  About that time, she heard the shrill of an ambulance siren, and overheard a nurse say, “They’re bringing in the guy that was with her. He’s just barely hanging on.”

  Marta was relieved to know he was alive, but at the same time she was terribly scared she would lose him. She asked a nurse what his injuries were and was told only that the doctors were with him, working to stabilize him. Marta had multiple cuts and bruises with possible broken ribs. She needed X-rays and a cat scan, since she had passed out twice. She lay there for what seemed like hours, when she heard Lori’s voice asking where Greg Carrington and Marta Thornton were.

  “She’s in cubicle three, just around the corner. He’s in four. They’re still trying to stabilize him,” the lady at the desk replied.

  Just as Lori entered the cubicle where Marta was, a voice came over the loud speaker “Code blue in four”.

  “Oh, my God, that’s Greg,” screamed Lori and Marta, together.