I wasn’t prepared.
13
Tamara
The house popped as the temperature dropped outside. This house made noises a lot whenever the weather changed, even a few degrees. I remembered I promised this guy a meal, so rather than sitting around waiting for him to throw my phone back at me and walk out, I decided to dish up the salad and chicken. Chloe left us alone, clearly peeved her friend had made a hasty exit, but she wasn’t aggravated enough to tell me why. I didn’t understand her deal, talking about Joey in front of Kevin. He was bound to ask about him again.
I wondered if “He’s my roommate, but he’s also a ghost” would work.
I was sure that would go over great. How long until Joey appeared in the kitchen and I had to pretend he wasn’t there? “Do you like ranch dressing, or would you prefer Italian?”
“No dressing, please. This was filmed here? At this table?”
“Yes,” I answered as I brought the salad and a healthy slice of chicken breast to the table with some silverware. “Right here. Same morning you came. Right after you left, in fact.”
“Do you mind if I send a copy of these to my inbox?”
“Go right ahead.” I sat in my chair and poked at my tiny salad with the fork, but I didn’t have much of an appetite. “The only reason I showed you those pictures and video is to prove to you... Well, I don’t know what it proves except there can be only one explanation. This is paranormal. There’s no way all this silver was brought into this kitchen without me hearing or seeing anything in less than ten minutes. Look at the way it is assembled. Forks pointing out, up to the ceiling. Some of the spoons are twisted, and I have no idea where that cup came from.” I pointed to the cup on the counter. I didn’t want to touch the thing.
“No offense, Tamara, but how do I know that?”
“What?” I paused in mid-poke. “You’re joking, right? Who the hell would make this up? I’m not trying to sell the house or drum up a media circus for personal gain. I know you don’t know me, but that’s not me. I’m trying to make a good impression on Crystal Springs, for Chloe’s sake. I need someone to believe me and help me figure out what and why and how to put a stop to it.” He sighed and appeared slightly off his game. Strange how talk of a few ghosts did that to folks. Especially overly confident folks like Kevin Patrick. Why did I feel as if I needed to prove something to this man?
Before I could delve too deeply into the psychology of my stab at friendship with Deputy Patrick, Joey sailed past the door, and I mean sailed. His nonexistent feet didn’t touch the ground. He kind of glided but really fast, as if he was being pulled on an invisible sled or some sort of weird cartoon character. His head was slung back, and his neck stretched slightly, giving the illusion that centrifugal force was pulling him against his will. Just when I thought it was over Joey sailed by again only this time, he held a different pose. He even gave me a thumbs-up sign. Joey’s wide-eyed facial expressions would normally make me laugh. His hand was over his mouth as he gawked at the back of Kevin Patrick. Yes, he was doing his best to get me classified as crazy. Didn’t he understand what was at stake here? Poor, confused Kevin glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway, but Joey had vanished. I knew he wouldn’t be gone long. He couldn’t help himself. Joey was an A-Number-One cut-up and an attention hog.
There was another man in the house, and a handsome one too. I hadn’t thought this through at all. I should have invited him for coffee somewhere instead of bringing him here.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” I said as I poked at my salad again. I wasn’t hungry in the slightest.
“It must be something. You were laughing.”
“No, I wasn’t,” I denied as I popped a cherry tomato into my mouth. He shrugged noncommittally and began chowing down. A big chunk of awkward silence passed between us.
“This has to be hard for you, raising a kid who’s not your own. She’s definitely got a chip on her shoulder about this arrangement. Taking on the challenge of raising a teenager and bringing this old place back to life is a lot for anyone to attempt. I give you credit for trying. Most people would have walked away from both of them, I think.”
“I’m not most people,” I snapped back. “You can’t tell me you’ve seen anything like that photo. It’s unsettling, even for me, and I know something about the subject of the paranormal. I’ve been on dozens of investigations, and I have never seen this kind of display. That scream and the disembodied voice aren’t good signs either.”
Kevin slid his plate to the side and leaned on his hands as he studied me. “You were a paranormal investigator? How did you get into that?” Oh, damn. Now he was investigating me.
“A friend got me interested in the subject. Chloe’s mother, actually. Her name was Tina Louise. We worked together for a while, but I had no idea she owned a place like this, and she didn’t leave me any information about it. Now I hear it’s called the Ridaught Dead House? What has she gotten us into?” I was whispering as if that would stop Joey from popping in.
“People like to romanticize historical places like this one.”
“’The Dead House’ doesn’t sound romantic to me. Why? Why is it called that, Kevin?”
His eyes trained on me, he ignored my question and asked one of his own. “People tend to die around here, in the house or on the grounds. Like the murder I’m investigating. She died near the creek. But you tell me. What do you think is going on, Tamara? Be honest. I feel like you want to tell me something, but I’m not sure what it is. Just tell me.”
Joey’s head peeked around the doorway, but there were no shenanigans this time. His face was serious, worried, and focused on our conversation. He was wearing his usual striped polo shirt, the tight black clothes gone. His hair was not poking up, and he was fading.
“Tamara?”
With a half-smile, I momentarily toyed with the idea of doing just that, but the street-smart side of me warned not to take such drastic measures. We weren’t quite friends yet, although I wanted to be. I needed an ally, and one that had information. Clearly, Joey didn’t want me to do this. He slowly shook his head and then vanished in a fine mist. His sad expression worried me more than I could have imagined. Maybe I was making too much of all this.
“I think the place might be haunted. It sure has all the hallmarks, but I want to do my due diligence. Tell me about this murder. When did this happen? Recently?”
“Annie Hensley was her name. She was murdered years ago, but no one was ever charged. She’s a cold case I’m working. She was a nursing assistant and worked at a senior home nearby. It’s closed now. There was no reason for her to meet such a horrible end. She wasn’t assaulted or robbed, and Annie didn’t have any enemies. I have a lot of whys and no answers.”
“I didn’t know you worked on cold cases. That must be challenging. Where did she die on the property? You said the creek? Back that way?”
He shifted in his seat again, clearly put off I hadn’t answered his questions and I had plenty of my own. “Yes, she died by Black Snake Creek, about half a mile from here. Have you been down to the creek yet?”
“Interesting,” I whispered as I bit my lip, remembering seeing the apparition fleeing from the house. She hadn’t been alone. I wondered what had happened to the woman in the wheelchair. I glanced at the doorway, but there was no sign of Joey. I could feel him sighing somewhere nearby. It must have been an audible sigh because Kevin turned again in search of the source of the sound. Music began blaring from Chloe’s room, and I could hear her stomping around. “No thoughts about the silver?”
“Not at this time. I’ll have to get back to you on that, although I’m sure you know things you aren’t telling me.”
That brought a smile to my face. I liked being a woman with a touch of mystery. “Never forget that. You say you brought a crowbar? Feel like breaking into the attic?”
“Yes. I’ll go get it, but you haven’t answered my question. What do you think is happening here?
Why am I really here, Tamara Garvey?”
“To help me find out why there’s a screamer in Chloe’s family home and poltergeist-like activity is occurring here in this kitchen. Who was the ghost woman I saw from the second-floor window? She was a blonde woman wearing a nurse’s uniform. And what the hell is the hooded figure we’re seeing at the end of the hallway.”
Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Deputy Patrick.
His mouth drew up into a smile but quickly faded. He knew I wasn’t joking. At least he didn’t call me crazy or mock me.
He didn’t interrogate me but instead said matter-of-factly, “I guess I better go get that crowbar.”
14
Tamara
If my confession shook Deputy Kevin Patrick, he didn’t let on. Then again, I didn’t know him all that well. He could be quaking in his boots or quietly classifying me as a nut job. Kevin Patrick was a complete and utter mystery, and I liked that. He was here, and that had to mean something. Or he could be planning to call an asylum later to ask if they had an extra butterfly net for one screwed up burlesque dancer. Ex-dancer.
What choice did I have? He asked me what I thought and I told him. I glanced down the hallway as I waited for Kevin to return with the crowbar. I didn’t like being here. This spot was about where the hooded figure had been standing, all shrouded in blackness and full of hate. I shivered as I glanced over my shoulder. No one was there, alive or dead. Chloe remained camped out in her room, and I prayed Joey stayed away until Kevin left. He was not someone I could explain.
Meet my dead best friend. His name is Joey.
At least Joey was okay and was here.
“Got it,” Kevin said as he came bounding up the steps. Funny, I didn’t even hear the front door open. I must have been lost in my thoughts. I did that sometimes.
“Great. May I give it a shot?” I asked as I held out my hand expectantly.
He tilted his head as if I needed a butterfly net. “Really?”
“Yes, I think I can handle a crowbar, Deputy. It’s just a lever, right?”
“Right. Pardon me.” Without a trace of disbelief, he handed the metal tool to me, and I went to work on the wooden door. Or tried to get to work on it. Getting the tip of the crowbar into the door seam proved a challenge. Whoever put the door in knew what they were doing because it was set as straight and even as you could humanly place it.
After a few minutes of me sweating and swearing, he said, “The wood must have swollen. It happens when there’s high humidity. The funny thing about these old houses is they shift around a lot.” I wiped the sweat from my brow and handed him the crowbar.
“Let’s see what you can do then. I’m spent.” I wasn’t joking in the slightest. I didn’t want to say it, but it felt almost like an invisible force was working against me. I smiled victoriously when Kevin didn’t do any better than I had with the dang thing.
Chloe stood in the hallway with her hands on her hips as if she were a parent catching two naughty teenagers breaking into the liquor cabinet. “Y’all suck at breaking into places.”
I answered her in a calm, even voice. "Care to give a try, smarty pants? The attorney won’t call me back, and we need to see what's in there. Deputy Patrick wants to make sure it is safe, is all,” I said confidently as I widened my eyes at him. He wasn’t great at reading social cues.
“I’d rather watch you tear the place up.”
“We need to make sure no one is hurt up here. Those screams were pretty loud.” Deputy Patrick sweated and grunted as he tried to jimmy the door open.
Chloe snorted at our stupidity. “Do you think I believe that? If you were concerned about someone being trapped in the attic, Deputy, you would have broken in last time. What’s really going on?”
“Getting into this room is the next step in investigating this activity. I will personally fix whatever we break, I swear," I said in a calm voice.
"Why can't we just wait for the key? You're going to tear the plantation to pieces, Tamara. Between your half-assed renovation and the cop tearing the door down, there won't be anything left standing." That was harsh. I didn’t believe that Chloe was concerned about the door coming down, but she was clearly upset with me. It must have been because of whatever passed between Kevin and Trey earlier. She was temperamental, and I didn't understand her.
"Is there a problem with me getting into the attic? Something you want to tell me?" Kevin asked as he turned away from his task. He hadn’t made any progress. The door did not want to open. I didn’t like his tone, but Chloe could fend for herself. Of that, I had no doubt.
"I don't have anything to hide from anyone. For your information, I've never been in the attic. So, whatever you're suggesting, you can stick it where the…”
As we all stood there, involved in our disagreement, the attic door suddenly clicked open and squeaked heavily on its hinges.
We watched in silence as the door began to open wider. A small cloud of dust poofed into the hallway as if something passed, but there was no one there. How on earth? “Did you do that?” I asked Kevin in a whisper.
“You know I didn’t. I’ve got the crowbar right here.” He looked from me to Chloe. How could the door come open like that? The only explanation I could come up with would be that Joey had opened it. That had to be it. Chloe was frozen and was staring at the open door. Kevin put his crowbar down, leaning it against the wall, and walked into the now open room. No how, no way was I leaving the crowbar behind. I reached for it and clutched it like a bat.
Chloe came in behind me. We stood just inside the door and took in the view. I've heard of cluttered attics before, but this took the cake. It looked like a freaking antique store and flea market on steroids. The attic was huge, much larger than I had imagined, and it had a bit of everything. I saw dressmaker’s dummies, a creepy, oversized dollhouse, rocking chairs, a rocking horse, and loads of wooden crates with mysterious scribbles on the sides. Those were just the first things I noticed. There were also shelves laden with dolls, toys, and other strange items.
I saw a drum-banging monkey toy. I have hated those things ever since I saw that Mia Farrow movie. That had to go.
There were more boxes than I could count. Some were modern cardboard boxes, and some looked wooden and much older. There were even stacks of suitcases. What wasn't visible was any record player or any wires or anything that would lead me to believe the screams we heard came from this room.
"Holy cow." That was all Chloe could say as she walked through the jumbled aisles, examining her family’s collected items. It was a dust-laden legacy.
"Satisfied?" I asked Kevin in a whisper as I stayed close to him. He was working his way through the maze but didn't answer me. His eyes fell on the same thing mine did.
Resting against a nearby wall was an empty wheelchair. The back was turned toward us, and I clearly read CRYSTAL RIVER HOME on the back.
Unless I was mistaken, which was a distinct possibility, it was the same wheelchair I'd seen Annie Hensley pushing as she fled the plantation the night the Screamer showed up. I pushed past Kevin and hurried toward it. It looked like the right one, with dingy white leather strapping and steel handles. The wheels were metal but a bit rusty.
"I saw this. I saw this chair, and the ghost nurse was pushing it away from the house."
"Let's just keep our heads on straight. When you say ghost, you mean someone who looked like Annie Hensley? Not an actual ghost, right? Because I don’t know if I believe in that sort of thing. I am a law enforcement officer, remember?”
“Be that as it may, I saw Annie Hensley’s ghost, Kevin. She was running from the house, pushing this wheelchair. Or one very like it,” I added in a whisper, but I needn’t have worried. Chloe ignored us both and seemed to have completely forgotten she was mad at me. She was busy digging through boxes looking for God knew what.
Kevin didn't ask me any more questions, and I decided to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. After a bit of searching and digging aro
und the attic, I finally said to him, "Are you satisfied now? There is no wiring system up here. We haven't been pranking you or anyone, for that matter. Whatever or whoever is screaming in this house isn't hiding up here."
"Then how do you explain it?"
I could see he wasn't flirting with me, and he wasn't joking. Chloe rolled her eyes and said, "Whatever. At least you didn't break the door." She stomped out of the attic with a few items in her arms, and I heard her clomp back down the hall to her room and then the door slam behind her.
"I think you should leave, Deputy Patrick. I let you see the attic, and you still don’t want to give me the benefit of the doubt. That’s pretty short-sighted. You’re busy trying to bust me doing something illegal when I’m not doing a damn thing wrong. Except raise a teenager. I’m doing it pretty poorly, but I don’t think that’s a crime. Or am I mistaken?”
Kevin wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Annie Hensley was a nurse and an all-around good person, according to her friends. She died at Black Snake Creek, which runs just behind this house. She was murdered, Tamara, and here’s something most people don’t know. Annie might have been the victim of a serial killer. I shouldn't be telling you that detail, but since you let me in your attic, I owe you something."
I closed the box beside me. There wasn’t much inside except a stack of old newspapers. How many of these boxes were full of junk like that? This attic could be a fire hazard. "I didn't let you in here," I reminded him. “The door opened on its own. Remember?”
Kevin ran his hands through his hair and picked up his crowbar, which I’d laid on a nearby box. "Oh, excuse me. The ghost let me in here, and it’s a screaming ghost, terrifying the neighborhood. That will look great in a report. Listen, thanks for the invitation. I plan on doing my best to seek justice for Annie. Thanks for dinner, and thanks for everything."
Never Dead (Welcome To Dead House Book 1) Page 9