The Halloween House

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The Halloween House Page 2

by Kathi Daley


  I thought back to my own almost pivotal moment with Tony, who, other than Bree, was my very best friend. I wasn’t sure where the moment had come from, but on the same day Mike and Bree got together last spring, Tony and I found ourselves on the verge of bringing our own sexual tension to its logical conclusion. I’ve thought about it at least a million times since, and wondered what would have happened if Tony’s dog, Titan, hadn’t lumbered over and ruined the moment. Part of me was disappointed the kiss hadn’t happened, but mostly, I was glad we hadn’t taken a step that might lead to the end of the friendship we’d always had.

  Bree thought I was crazy for not following through with my intensifying feelings for Tony, but I’d seen friendships ruined after sex was introduced into the relationship. Inevitably, the passion of new intimacy faded, and then all that remained of what was once a strong bond were hurt feelings that could never be overcome. No, I’d decided on numerous occasions, my feelings for Tony were too important to gamble on.

  “Morning, Mom, Aunt Ruthie,” I said as I walked into their diner, with Tilly tagging along behind me. It really did look festive. In addition to the Halloween village and model train in the window, Mom had strung up orange lights that were wrapped in colorful fall garlands.

  “Is there mail from overseas?” Mom started hopefully.

  I shook my head. “Sorry.” My mom had been hoping for a card or letter from her own complicated love interest, Romero Montenegro. He lived and worked in Italy, but he and Mom had participated in a brief long-distance relationship that, based on the lack of correspondence in more than two months, seemed to have fizzled out.

  “I should have taken the time off and gone to Italy when he asked.” Mom groaned.

  I wanted to remind her that her fling with Romero had been ill-advised from the beginning, but instead I held my tongue and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know you enjoyed your friendship with him.”

  Mom let out a breath. “I suppose it’s for the best. It’s not like we ever had a future. I live here in Montana and he lives across the ocean.” Mom gave a sad little smile. “It was fun while it lasted.”

  I didn’t want her to be sad, but I also didn’t want to think about my middle-aged mother having fun with a single playboy more than a decade younger, so I changed the subject. “Did you hear Jordan Westlake is in town?”

  “I heard he arrived yesterday,” Aunt Ruthie trilled. “People have been talking about it all day.”

  “I still don’t quite understand what he plans to do with that huge old house,” Mom said. “It doesn’t seem like a practical choice for a single man.”

  “According to Mike, he didn’t choose it. It chose him.”

  Mom frowned, confused.

  “He inherited it,” I clarified.

  “Inherited it? I wonder if he means to keep it.”

  I shrugged. “The thing interests me more than I feel it ought to. Everyone says the place is haunted, and I’ve heard the story about the tragedy that met the family for whom the house was built. I’m not sure I’d set foot in it if that had happened to mine.”

  “I seem to remember Hartford Harrington moved his wife and children into the place but then went back to his life in the city,” Aunt Ruthie said.

  Mom nodded. “It’s true. And they stayed even after the daughter went missing just months after they arrived.”

  “Missing?” I asked. “I’d heard all the children died. I didn’t know one went missing. What happened?”

  “The oldest daughter, Hillary Harrington, was just fourteen when they moved into the big house in the woods. I’m not sure why they moved to White Eagle from San Francisco in the first place, but I do remember reading that after Hartford Harrington went back to the city, strange things began happening. The locals believed the family had brought some sort of curse with them from San Francisco. I don’t know if that’s true, but two months after they came to town, Hillary Harrington went missing. Her bloody clothes were found in the woods behind the house. It was assumed she’d met with foul play, but her body was never found and her killer, if there was one, was never identified.”

  I put a hand to my mouth. “That’s awful. The poor girl. Her poor mother.”

  Mom ran a rag over the counter of the currently empty café. “I can’t imagine losing a child and never knowing what happened to her. It has to be more heartbreaking than is bearable. But she not only lost a daughter. Her oldest son died just a few weeks later.”

  I gasped. “How?”

  “He was shot.”

  My eyes grew large. “Who shot him?”

  “A man named Wilbur Woodbine. It seems Hudson Harrington believed it was Wilbur who’d killed his sister and hid her body, so even though he was only sixteen and Wilbur was a grown man, he went to confront him. Hudson had a gun, but so did Wilbur. In the end, it was Hudson who lost his life.”

  “And Wilbur?” I asked. “What happened to him?”

  Mom shook her head. “Nothing. There was never any proof he’d killed Hillary, and it was decided the shooting was in self-defense.”

  I glanced at the clock. I wanted to hear the rest of the story, but I had my route to finish. “How do you know all this?” I asked as I hitched my bag onto my shoulder.

  “I did a report on the family when I was in high school. I can fill you in on the rest sometime, but I can see you need to get back to work, so I won’t keep you.”

  I took a step toward the door. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

  Chapter 2

  I’m not sure how I pulled it off, but somehow, I managed to finish my route and then get back to my cabin in time to change before I needed to leave for Tony’s. The days had grown short and a hint of winter was in the air, so I wore black jeans with black knee-high boots and a fuzzy gold sweater with hints of orange. Yes, I’ll admit I did look somewhat like a pumpkin, but it was October, and with Halloween just around the corner, I was feeling festive and wanted to show it. In fact, I thought to myself as I grabbed a jacket from the closet, I might even stop by Hap’s tomorrow to pick up some orange lights and pumpkin-scented candles for my little cabin in the woods.

  As for tonight, Tony and I planned to have dinner and then play a new video game he’d been asked to preview. It seemed he had new games almost every time we got together. Of course, he’d made a name for himself in the gaming community, and developers valued the input he was happy to provide.

  Tony had suggested I stay over, which was a good idea because our video nights usually went long. So, in addition to grabbing food, bedding, and toys for Tilly, as well as my cats, Tang and Tinder, I packed an overnight bag for myself. It was more and more common for me to stay at Tony’s when I planned to hang out with him on the weekend. Bree was totally focused on spending every spare moment with Mike, so it was Tony who helped me fill my free time. At least when he wasn’t working and had a bit of free time himself, which, given the huge project he’d been contracted to complete for NSA—the National Security Agency—hadn’t been all that often.

  I’d agreed to run an adoption clinic at the local animal shelter on Saturday morning because shelter owner and town veterinarian Brady Baker had rescue training with his dog Tracker. Brady and Tracker had joined the local search-and-rescue squad, and they took training and rescue simulations seriously. Brady’s assistant, Lilly, would be around to handle things at the veterinary clinic, so all I needed to do was organize the other volunteers, then handle the adoption paperwork and screening. I figured I’d go back to Tony’s afterward, so I packed clothes to wear to the clinic, which for this event required a costume, as well as casual clothing and something nicer to wear out to dinner with Bree and Mike.

  I loaded the kids into the Jeep and headed up the mountain to Tony’s. He lived on a private lake about twenty miles north of White Eagle. The drive up the narrow road that zigzagged up the mountain could be treacherous in the winter, but we’d only had light snow so far this season, which had melted soon after it fell. I turned on the radio
just in time to catch an ad for the upcoming harvest festival. I hoped Tony would go with me next weekend because I was sure Bree would be going with Mike. The festival had been around since before I was born, and it was one of my favorite seasonal events. Not only was there an awesome haunted house, but there was pumpkin carving, hay rides, a street dance, and games and goodies for the kids too.

  As soon as I arrived, Tony appeared at the front door, which was flanked by giant orange pumpkins. He waved and then came over to grab the things I’d brought for the animals, while I took out my overnight bag and the cat carrier holding Tang and Tinder. Tilly hopped out of the Jeep on her own and trotted over to greet Tony’s dog, Titan, the minute he joined Tony. Titan and Tilly seemed to be in love. When together, they spent most of their time curled up in front of the fire.

  “Your house looks awesome. I love the pumpkins on the porch and the little orange and white twinkle lights you strung in the trees.”

  “I took some time to decorate this afternoon. I knew you were coming and figured you’d appreciate the effort. I was going to put out the life-size monsters I bought last year, but I didn’t have time. Maybe we can get to them this weekend.”

  “That would be fun. I enjoyed the way Herman and Boris would reach out as if they were going to grab me whenever I walked by. By the way, while we’re on the subject of Halloween, do you want to go to the harvest festival together next weekend?”

  “I’d like that.” Tony smiled as we entered the house and he took my bag and set it aside. “I always look forward to the haunted house. I hear they hired a new company this year, so the props should be totally different from what we’ve seen in the past.”

  “I heard that too. In fact, I heard the company they hired this time is the one that did the big event in Saint Paul last year. I’m not sure why they agreed to come to tiny White Eagle, but unless my intel is wrong, we’re in for something really special.”

  “It seems the company expanded, so they can do more than one town at a time,” Tony confirmed.

  “Speaking of haunted houses, did you know someone moved into the Harrington place?”

  Tony looked surprised. “No, I didn’t. I haven’t been in town much lately. Did someone buy it?”

  “Inherited.” I went on to explain what I’d heard about the man who’d taken the plunge and planned to bring life to the place after more than fifty years.

  Tony began to arrange pet beds and toys. “I’ll have to look into the history of the house when I have a chance. It sounds interesting.”

  “The house and the family might have an interesting if tragic past. Digging into it might take some time. Did you finish that big project you’ve been working on?” I half-suspected he’d kept himself so engrossed in it as an excuse for us not to spend time together after the awkwardness of our almost-kiss on Mother’s Day.

  “I did, and it turned out well. I enjoy my work, but this project was especially intense and demanding. I think I’m going to take a break until after the holidays. I’d really like for us to spend more time together than we’ve been able to.”

  I couldn’t quite keep my heart from going pitter-patter despite my best intentions. “I brought clothes and accessories to cover the whole weekend. I have the adoption clinic tomorrow morning, and then we have dinner with Mike and Bree at night, but maybe we can do some gaming tonight and on Sunday.”

  Tony squeezed my hand. “I’d planned to finish the decorating and work on my remodel, but I can do that while you’re at the adoption clinic.”

  “Oh, about the remodel,” I said before I forgot, “Hap said to tell you your paint is in.”

  “Perfect timing.”

  “I’ll be in town anyway. I’ll pick it up for you.”

  Tony smiled. “Thanks. That would be helpful.”

  “Are you still working on the kitchen?” Tony didn’t cook often, but he liked to do it, so he’d decided on a complete remodel of what I’d considered an already exceptional kitchen.

  “I’m just about done with it. I need to figure out what I’m going to do with the wall art I had before, but the room is completely functional. I’m planning to move on to the guest rooms this weekend. I was going to do the master bedroom first, but I still haven’t made up my mind about a few things.” Tony took my hand in his. “Come on. I’ll show you what I’ve done in the kitchen.”

  I followed him across the large living area to the open cooking area. “I don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble. Your house is already magnificent.”

  Tony shrugged. “I guess I was in the mood for a change.”

  And what a change it was. “Wow.” I was totally in love with the new kitchen. “I could probably live in this room.”

  “I thought it came out well. It has a warm, cozy feeling, but the appliances are restaurant grade. I’m glad you were able to come over tonight for the inaugural meal.”

  I sat down on a padded window seat that angled from the brick fireplace and looked out at the lake. “Something smells wonderful. What are we having?”

  “Spinach-and-cheese-stuffed tortellini with a creamy saffron sauce.”

  “It not only smells like heaven but I’m starving. It’s been a long day at the end of a long week.”

  Tony poured two glasses of wine and handed me one. “I just need to toss together the salad and heat the bread. If you want, you can have a seat at the counter and talk to me while I work.”

  “I love this window seat, but it can wait.” I got up and crossed the room before sliding onto one of the stools Tony had bought to match the cabinets he’d installed to complement the new wood floor. I’d been working some on my own remodel, but I didn’t have the eye, instinct, or budget Tony did, so my transformation wasn’t going to be quite as grand. At least not yet.

  “So, tell me what you know about the new owner of Harrington House,” Tony requested as he began washing and chopping veggies for the salad.

  “I don’t know a lot. Jordan Westlake is a Harrington on his mother’s side. He’s also a San Francisco Westlake, which means he’s loaded. Mike said he’s already moved into the house and plans to do a lot of the work on it himself. Personally, if I had his kind of cash, I might just stay in a hotel until the remodel was complete, but he’s supposed to be a hands-on guy.”

  “Sounds like someone I might enjoy getting to know. I have to assume he knows the house’s history and has heard the rumors about it being haunted, so he must not be superstitious. If I remember correctly, Hartford Harrington’s entire family died while living in that house.”

  “That’s what I heard as well, though I don’t know all the details. Mom said the oldest daughter, Hillary, was just fourteen when they moved into the house. She went missing, and her bloody clothes were found in the woods behind the house, but not her body. It was assumed she met with foul play, though her killer, assuming there was one, was never identified. A brother, Hudson, who was sixteen at the time, believed she was killed by a man named Wilbur Woodbine. Hudson confronted Woodbine and was shot and killed in the ensuing struggle.”

  Tony shook his head. “That’s really sad.”

  “Woodbine insisted he was innocent of killing Hillary and charges were never brought against him for either death.”

  “It’d be interesting to do some digging into the history of the entire Harrington family. Do you know how the others died?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure. Mom seemed to know, but I needed to finish my route, so I didn’t have time for her to go over the whole family history. It’s probably available online. Hartford Harrington was a rich, powerful, influential man. I’m sure there were all sorts of newspaper articles at the time.”

  “Maybe we can spend some time looking into it after we eat,” Tony suggested.

  I took a sip of my wine. “Have you been looking for news about my father?”

  “I have an update, but let’s eat first.”

  Great. Now I was going to be curious the entire time we spent on the meal
, but a discussion revolving around the man who’d abandoned me and my family fifteen years ago probably wasn’t appropriate dinner conversation. Just the thought of my father and the double life it seemed he’d been living was enough to give me indigestion.

  As expected, the food was delicious. I offered to take the dogs out while Tony cleaned up the kitchen afterward. My mind had stayed focused almost exclusively on my father since Tony had mentioned he had an update. The situation was complex, so I knew I shouldn’t expect much, but my mind would never be totally at rest until I was able to know for certain whether my father was dead or alive, and if he was alive, I needed to understand what he’d done and why he’d done it.

  My search for my dad began when I was fifteen and nosing around in the attic of the house Mom, Mike, and I lived in. I found a letter hidden in a book I believed to be encrypted. The book had been stored with some things my dad had stored in the attic before he died in a fiery accident while driving the cross-country truck route he’d been working most of my life. Believing it could somehow provide an answer to the questions I’d had since his death, I wanted to try to break the code. After dozens of failed attempts, I enlisted Tony’s help. As it turned out, the letter hadn’t been encrypted at all, but our search had led us to uncover some anomalies in my father’s death, what I’d suspected all along.

  It took Tony twelve years to find the first clue, a photograph of a man who looked an awful lot like my dad standing in front of a building that was built less than ten years before. Because my dad was supposed to have died three years before that, I knew if the man in the photo was the man who’d given me piggyback rides and taken me camping, he couldn’t have died when we were told he had.

  A few months after finding that photo, Tony happened across one of a man in a convenience store just outside Gallup, New Mexico. The really odd thing was that Tony, even with all his techy know-how, couldn’t figure out who’d taken it or posted it online. It wasn’t part of the surveillance system in the minimart, and when Tony tried to trace the source, it came back as unknown, which concerned him. It was his belief that the photo had originated from someone who possessed a high level of security. Someone in the CIA, the NSA, or some other spy organization. Tony wanted to proceed with caution, especially after I received a call warning me to leave well enough alone.

 

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