Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1)

by Dorey, Michelle

  He went back to the book, skimming through it to find more references to the father. There was a lot of horseshit about some boy at school who she had a crush on. It looked innocent enough. Then he spied another entry that was different, the writing more cramped. He glanced over at Lydia and read aloud.

  July 4 1930

  Dear Diary, I’m so ashamed. I won’t be able to look anyone in the eye ever again after what Daddy did. He made a total spectacle of me. Jimmy and I weren’t doing anything wrong. We’d wandered off from where everyone was having fun next to the river. The band was playing, kids were running around screeching and you couldn’t hear yourself think. Jimmy and I were within sight, just sitting on some rocks, watching some boats going by and just talking about how the summer was going.

  Daddy came tearing over and started cussing Jimmy out. Then he yelled at me to go on home. He was so loud that people stared at us. I had to keep my head down as I went by them, breaking out into an all-out run once I was out of sight.

  I knew Daddy was going to lay a beating on me when he got home so I hid in the barn, in the hayloft. I heard footsteps and I thought I was a goner, but some men came in. I didn’t recognize them but they looked like river rats. They were real rough types, swearing up a storm and wearing dirty, raggedy clothes. They carried some wooden crates in and left them in an empty stall. They covered them up with hay and then left.

  Before I got the chance to go see what it was they’d left, that rat Jeremiah came tearing in the barn and spotted me. As soon as he did he started yelling for Daddy. I don’t know what Daddy was madder at, me sneaking around with Jimmy or being in the barn!

  But he didn’t whup me. Thank my lucky stars for that! For a preacher he sure knows a lot of swear words, the air was blue with them. He sounded just like those river rats!

  He stayed in the barn the rest of the day, even missing dinner. I didn’t miss him though. I don’t think Mom did either.

  How can I ever face Jimmy again?

  Jake’s eyes scanned ahead and his voice stilled. It was more of the same, the girl’s embarrassment, how much she liked Jimmy, blah, blah.

  Angela leaned forward and prodded the fire with the poker. “That father sounds like an asshole.”

  Mark gave her a sharp elbow, “Don’t say that too loud. He might hear you.” He looked over at the window and then behind him. “What do you think they’re doing? It’s been quiet for too long.”

  Lydia leaned over and patted her son’s knee. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The book was meant to be read and that’s what we’re doing. With any luck when the girl’s story is known, the creepy stuff will end.”

  Jake watched them, and then his gaze locked with Angela’s. From the look in her eyes, she didn’t believe it either.

  There was no doubt in his mind what the “river rats” had been delivering. Alexandria Bay was close to the Canadian border, and back then there’d been a lot of smuggling of booze going on. The preacher was not only a closet drunk, he was part of the smuggling racket. What better cover than running a church and having a barn for storage? He could guess the next part, but still he flipped through the pages till he came to the last entry.

  September 6 1930

  Dear Diary, The first day back at school went really well. Rather than laugh at me, my chums felt sorry for the fiasco at the 4th of July picnic. And Jimmy wasn’t sore about getting chewed out by Daddy. If anything, he likes me even more.

  Things have gotten worse with Daddy if that’s even possible. He keeps watching me when he thinks I am not paying attention. And after last night, I know now why he yells and slurs his words.

  I was so hepped up about the first day back at school, I needed to get some salts to settle my stomach. When I went to the kitchen to get some, he was sitting at the table cupping a mug of something. He grabbed at me when I went by him and I could smell it. Liquor. He forced me to sit on his knee and he kept telling me to watch out for the boys at school, that they only wanted one thing off a pretty girl like me.

  Thank goodness Mom came in from the privy! It made my skin crawl the way he looked at me and the stink of him, his hands pawing my thigh.

  When I left I could hear him cussing and yelling at Mom. Even Jeremiah was scared and came into my room for a bit.

  I can’t wait to get out of this house and marry Jimmy at the end of the school year. I know he’s going to ask me.

  He could see it in his mind, how the old man had gone off the deep end, not even trying to hide his drunken state. Even the girl, Nancy, had sensed something seriously wrong that night. He shuddered. Anything incestuous and predatory was so repugnant. And for the sickness to end in such violence. The poor girl, her brother and mom. The old man could burn in hell; he deserved to.

  Lydia cleared her throat, looking down at her lap, “That was the last entry wasn’t it?”

  Jake nodded and put the book down on the floor. “Yeah…”

  Angela’s eyes were wide. “Because after that, her father killed her.”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah.”

  Mark’s head swiveled around the room, looking up to the ceiling. “And..he’s still here…”

  “Yeah.”

  THIRTY

  Lydia

  LYDIA FINISHED HER WINE and set the glass on the floor. For the last hour, things had been quiet. Angela could barely keep her eyes open, and Mark was curled up at the end of the sofa sleeping.

  She looked over at Jake. He looked like hell. Hopefully, she didn’t look as ragged. “I’ll take the first watch if you want to catch forty winks.”

  He took a deep breath and then got up to throw another log on the fire. “Yeah.” He looked at the kids and sat down again, stretching his legs out in front, resting his back against the sofa. “If you’re sure?”

  She nodded. “If it gets too much and I start to nod off, I’ll wake you.” The kids were first and foremost. Just get through the next four hours and get the hell out of there.

  She stared at the flames of the log burning. It was mesmerizing how the flames licked at the edges of the log, curling around the sides before fading out. Her head jerked backward with a start and she gave it a shake. Watching a fireplace was a sure way to nod off. She sat straighter and took a deep breath to perk up. Just four hours.

  She turned her gaze from the fireplace and looked over the living room and began to examine the layout with her sales agent brain for a distraction. Wide, solid oak staircase to the upper floor, graceful hallway to the dining room and kitchen, with a cozy room off to the side, perfect for a den or library.

  Her mouth twitched in a scowl. The den was empty now, but it was probably where the father composed his Sunday sermons. Most likely with a fifth of whisky stashed in the desk. What a horrible old man to kill his whole family. The only one of them that had seen that monster’s ghost was Mark. The youngest, smallest, and most innocent of them was the one that horrible thing sought first.

  Jake’s soft snores across from her, the crackling fire, and the peaceful breathing of the kids were a somnolent lullaby. She had to get up and move around to keep alert. She eased up from the sofa and tiptoed over to the den. She had never really checked that room out when they first arrived, and this was just as good a time as any.

  When she stepped into the narrow room, a sharp creak from the floorboard pierced the air. She turned her head to see if she’d woken the kids. No, still out cold. She moved over to the window and pulled the curtain back to check the weather outside. It was still snowing but the flakes were bigger, falling slowly instead of the blowing blizzard earlier when they’d tried to escape in the car. That was a good sign; the storm was easing off, right?

  Just as she turned to head back to the living room she froze at the sharp, grating sound from the ceiling above her. She lifted her head. It had sounded like someone dragged a chair across the floor above. That was Mark’s room up there. It happened again—and louder. She looked over at Jake. Should she wake him?

  It
hadn’t been loud enough to disturb anyone, they were all fast asleep. Compared to the nightmare earlier that shook the house, it was nothing. She could handle it. Let Jake sleep; the more rested he was, the better. There was still four hours to kill. She chided herself. Kill was not a good word to use this night.

  She shivered when the scraping resumed. Something was moving around in Mark’s room. Sure, Jake said he locked the door, but so what? She crept to the bottom of the stairs and peeked up. She couldn’t see anything from the bottom, so climbed up two steps. The door to Mark’s room was still closed. She let out a long sigh, only then realizing she had been holding her breath. God! She probably had aged ten years with the worry of being in this house.

  Crik-k-kik-ki-kik! She jumped at the sound; louder now, and coming from the kitchen! She stepped down the stairs and then into the hallway leading to the kitchen. If it sounded again, she was going to find out why, damn it! This was ridiculous. The kids would wake up soon if it didn’t stop. They’d been through enough. Hell! She’d had enough, too.

  She’d take a quick look into the kitchen—maybe that would be enough to keep the…she gulped...the ghost at bay or something. Her eyes darted to the sleeping figures as she crept across the living room. Probably not her best idea, but they were all so damn wrung out. Just a quick look. The lights were on, after all.

  From the entrance to the kitchen, her gaze flitted across the room. She jerked when it happened again. This time it was higher pitched, almost a squeal, filling the room from all directions. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  Something moved in the corner of her eye. She looked over, but there was nothing there. There had been something or someone there! It had been in the kitchen and then gone without a sound! Her heart was beating so fast and hard she thought it would burst from her chest. What was it? The old man? He’d scared the shit out of her son but ran away from an adult, just like any bully would.

  She took a few deep breaths to stop the shaking in her hands. Her knees wobbled like jelly when she stepped into the kitchen. Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as dust. Water. A powerful thirst rolled over her and she stepped to the sink and flipped the faucet.

  She jumped back, holding her hands over her mouth. Oh God! Blood! It flowed from the faucet in a steady stream.

  Her eyes were riveted to the horrible sight as the blood flow suddenly cleared and water gushed out. She blinked a few times to clear her head. It had been there! She edged closer, peering at the basin. But there was only a swirl of water circling the drain.

  Had she really seen blood?

  Enough! Her fingers splayed in front of her, backing slowly from the sink and out of the room. She was going to sit on the sofa and pretend this hadn’t happened. No scraping, no dark man running from the room, no blood coming out of the faucet. Nope. Not happening.

  It took all her willpower to not run back to the living room, but she kept her steps deliberate and soft. She was starting to lose it. She hoped she was starting to lose it…otherwise…that really happened!

  Turning to head back to the living room, she froze at the sound of another creak from the stairs before her. Don’t look. Don’t look. Ignoring her own pleas in her head, she looked at the stairs. Please let it be just a noise. Just a noise.

  Oh God, it was the girl! She was on the steps just a few feet away, her mouth gaping open in a silent scream. She looked as solid as any person, with blood smearing her nightgown from the gash in her neck. Silently, her hand rose and pointed behind Lydia.

  The hackles on the back of her neck tingled. The sound of heavy breathing behind her registered in her ears as her nose was filled with the sour smell of whisky. She spun around, but everything had a surreal quality like she was in a slow motion film.

  The breath caught in her chest and her eyes bulged seeing the old man. His eyes sparked looking at her from under a heavy brow. His mouth was half open, and his black tongue rolled over his bottom lip like an eel. He lifted a hand over his head, the ax in it smeared with gore.

  “JAKE!” Lydia spun on the balls of her feet and raced to the living room. The kids!

  Jake flew off the couch wide awake. He grabbed her shoulders but she twisted out of his grasp. “He’s there! That old man!” She leapt to the sofa as the kids sprung to sitting positions and spun around to face the threat. She flung her hands out in front of her to ward off the apparition.

  That wasn’t there.

  Jake gaped at her. “What did you see?”

  She lurched forward and her hand clung to his arm looking past him to the dining room. “He was there! He was right there coming out of the kitchen!” She turned and pointed at the stairs. “Nancy. She tried to warn me.” She looked up into Jake’s eyes. “I swear, I saw them both!”

  She burst into tears, and Jake took her in his arms, rubbing her back. How much more of this could any of them take before they were ready for the men in white coats?

  THIRTY ONE

  Jake

  JAKE HELD THE POOR WOMAN, trying to calm her down. She was on the verge of a breakdown. And who could blame her? They were trapped in there until the sun rose, and even then who knew if they’d be able to get help?

  The ghosts, or entities, or whatever the hell term you used...they were getting bolder. He didn’t doubt that Lydia had seen both the girl and the old man. He’d never get that image of the girl rising from the bed, her head half off from the gaping wound in her neck. It was etched in his brain.

  He shivered and then pulled back from Lydia. “It’s not long now. We’re leaving at first light.” He turned her around, his hand light on her back, guided her to the sofa.

  “Mom?” Angela reached for her mother’s hand, watching Lydia with tear-filled eyes. “Sit here with us.” When Lydia sank down next to her, Angela’s arm went over her shoulders.

  Mark leaned forward, “You saw him, didn’t you? Now, it’s not just me.” He looked at Jake, “I think we should leave. Take our chances walking out of here.”

  Jake just looked at him, then at his watch. Only two thirty. If it were closer to dawn he’d agree with the boy. “No. We wait until first light. We’ll get through this, I promise you.” They were all worn out as it was. He didn’t think they’d make it through the storm in the dead of night. They desperately needed daylight, especially if the snow kept up.

  He glanced at Lydia. She was silent, staring at the fireplace, while Angela rubbed her arm. The roles had reversed and they had that damned ghost to thank for it.

  Jake flopped into the chair and winced when the gun tucked into his waist dug in. If it were a thug, that gun would have solved the problem. But how do you deal with this kind of shit? Prayers? It had been a long time since he’d set foot in a church. The last time had been his wedding and look how well that had turned out.

  He looked over at the family on the sofa. Angela’s eyes were closed, and her head rested on her mother’s shoulders. Lydia was having a hard time staying awake herself. Unbelievable. They were falling back asleep. Her head jerked and her eyes popped wide. She whispered, “How’re you doing?”

  “I’ll manage.” After a few moments he looked at her again, “Get some shut-eye. I got this.”

  She nodded and then settled deeper into the cushions, closing her eyes.

  Everything was deathly still. Only the crackle of the embers in the fire broke the quiet. He shifted in the chair and took a deep breath. It was like there was sand in his eyes every time he blinked. A couple times his head fell lower and then bobbed up again. Lydia and the kids were fast asleep, and he was struggling to stay awake himself. It was like none of this was even real.