The Halloween House

by Kathi Daley

  “You think the skeleton was the nanny?” Mike asked after I explained my theory.

  I nodded. “I spoke to Gordy Rothenberger, who was friends with Houston at the end. He said Houston lived in the house with Hannah after the nanny left. That made me wonder why Houston’s father didn’t send a replacement. Then I realized it must have been because he didn’t know the nanny was gone. No one did, except Houston and Hannah.”

  “You think they killed her?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. She could have died of natural causes and the kids hid the body in the closet instead of telling anyone. Gordy said Houston had money. My bet is the father continued to send money to the nanny, which she was supposed to use to take care of the children. Houston must have taken the money and supported himself and his sister until she died. It makes sense. Gordy said he was smart. And that he had plans. He had money and his freedom, which he wasn’t likely to risk having taken away by telling anyone the nanny everyone thought was taking care of things was actually dead.”

  Mike narrowed his gaze. “Your theory actually makes sense. There was definitely something odd going on at that house. Did you know the man who was a stand-in for the local police didn’t respond to or verify the deaths of any of the youngest three children?”

  “I’ve heard things that support that, but it seems hard to believe even if the town didn’t have a regular police force back then.”

  “Yet I’ve been unable to find any documentation that would prove anyone outside the family even knew about the deaths of the youngest children until quite a while after the fact.”

  I bit my lip. “That means things might not have played out the way everyone seems to think they did. From what I’ve been told, it sounds as if Henrietta died when she fell down the stairs. At least that was what the tutor, who wasn’t at the house at the time, was told by both remaining children and the nanny. The thing is, because there weren’t any witnesses, how do we know she fell? She might have been pushed, or maybe falling down the stairs wasn’t even how she died. The tutor didn’t know Henrietta had died until after she’d been buried.”

  “You have an interesting point.”

  “And the tutor was gone by the time Hannah died. It sounds like the nanny might have been gone by then as well. If Hannah and Houston were alone in the house by that point, how do we know Hannah died as the result of an illness? And an even better question, if Houston was alone in the house after Hannah died, which seems to be the opinion of those who knew him, how would anyone know he jumped to his death? How did anyone know he was dead? Who found his body? Was Bennington called in? If not, why not? According to Jordan Westlake, there’s a tombstone for Houston Harrington in the family cemetery, but if no one was called in and he was the last remaining family member, who buried him?”

  “All very good questions,” Mike admitted, “though I’m not sure how we can answer them. It seems like everyone who was involved is dead.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “It does seem as if the mystery of the Harrington family might very well go unsolved.”

  Mike sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his desk. I could see he was mulling things over. It was frustrating to have questions it seemed impossible to answer. The only real witnesses to what went on at Harrington House was the Harrington family, and they were all dead. I raised a brow. Or were they?

  “What if the Harrington children didn’t all die as reported?”

  “What do you mean?” Mike asked.

  “We know Hillary disappeared and Hudson was shot. Bennington responded to both those calls. But no one seemed to be there for the deaths of any of the younger three children. At least, no one other than the children. What if they didn’t die? At least not the two youngest?”

  “If they didn’t die, where did they go?”

  “Gordy said Houston had plans to find the tutor; he’d bonded with her, but she was fired. What if he found her? What if both he and Hannah wanted to escape the prison in which they’d been trapped for years, but they knew their father wouldn’t just let them walk away, so they faked their deaths? What if the graves in the little cemetery are empty?”

  “I guess there’s only one way to know for sure.”

  Chapter 9

  When Tony and I arrived at Jordan’s that night, Mike had already spoken to him, and the coffins in the little cemetery had been dug up and examined. As I’d predicted, two of them were empty.

  Rena Wiggins had claimed not to have known what had happened to Hannah and Houston, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t lied. Mike decided to have a chat with her in an official capacity, and during the course of that conversation, she admitted that after the nanny died, Hannah and Houston had stashed her in the closet. Free of the long arm of their father, they’d talked someone into helping them look for her. It took a while because she’d moved away from White Eagle, but eventually, they were able to track her to her new job in Missoula. From there, they came up with a plan for Hannah and Houston to fake their deaths. They moved in with her, and she told everyone the teens were her niece and nephew. They stayed with her until they were old enough to go out on their own.

  Both Hannah and Houston had passed away within the past five years, but Rena Wiggins assured us they had lived happy and productive lives. Neither had children of their own, which was intentional because of what Hope and Henrietta had gone through, but Hannah had married a man with two young children she’d helped to raise, and Houston had adopted two children with his wife of thirty-five years.

  I wondered if Mike would arrest Rena Wiggins when she admitted to her part in the plot. Could she be charged with kidnapping because she’d willfully hidden Hannah and Houston from their father? She was an older woman now, and it seemed as if everything had worked out for the best, so I was relieved when Mike told me he planned to turn a blind eye and leave well enough alone.

  Along the way, we managed to find answers for most of our questions. We still didn’t know what had happened to Hillary, but we did learn more about Henrietta’s death. Hannah told Rena Wiggins the details. Henrietta was having one of her fits, which led to a struggle with the nanny at the top of the stairs. After some hair pulling and face scratching, the nanny had had enough and pushed Henrietta to her death, then made Hannah promise not to tell anyone. She threatened that if she did, she’d be the next sibling to die. Hannah hadn’t said a word to anyone until after she’d moved in with Rena.

  We also still didn’t know the identity of the person who had helped Hannah and Houston find Rena Wiggins. She said that person was still alive, and she didn’t want to bring any harm to this kindhearted helping hand. I supposed at this point it no longer mattered. To my mind, whoever had helped the twins had done a good thing and should be allowed to retain their anonymity. Still, I had to admit to being curious. I imagined the Good Samaritan had to be at least eighty, maybe older. There weren’t all that many people living in White Eagle now who had been living in town back then and would have been old enough to help with the search. Rena hadn’t technically said the Samaritan was still living here, so it wasn’t necessary to limit my potential suspects to that pool.

  “It looks like you’re going to have your hands full with this place,” Tony said as Jordan took us to look at the demolition in the kitchen.

  “It is a big project. There are four bedrooms and three baths on the third floor, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a playroom on the second floor, plus two bedrooms and two baths in addition to the kitchen, living, and dining rooms on the first floor.”

  “And don’t forget the parlor at the front of the house,” I added.

  “Yes, the parlor,” Jordan smiled, “which I plan to turn into a library. The rooms on the first floor seem boxy to me. I have a contractor coming next week to take a look at things. I’d like to take out several walls so the kitchen, dining, and living rooms all flow together in an open floor plan. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with the bedrooms behind the kitchen. They mus
t have been for household staff. I might open up that space as well and move the dining area. I suppose I’ll know better once I have a chance to determine which are load-bearing walls and which can easily be removed.”

  “It’s kind of freaky that everything that was in the house when Hannah and Houston left is still here.”

  Jordan nodded. “It appears they just up and left. I found clothes in the closets, games set out in the playroom, even dishes in the sink. I’d like to take my time and sort through things. Especially in the bedrooms. And I’d still like to know what happened to Hillary. I spoke to your brother, who didn’t seem to think the tutor knew what had happened to her, but somewhere in the back of my mind I have this feeling Hillary must have left a clue behind, waiting to be discovered.”

  I found I had to agree. It really was too bad we still didn’t know what had happened to Hillary. “I do hope you find something, though it’s very likely after all this time the questions about Hillary’s disappearance will remain unanswered. Especially if she’s dead.”

  “You think she might not be?” Jordan asked.

  I shrugged. “Hannah and Houston faked their own deaths to escape the hell in which they were trapped. Hillary disappeared just months after the family moved here, but she was the angriest and most vocal about the situation. She was seen in town on numerous occasions, so she obviously had a means of getting out. Maybe she used the bloody clothes as a decoy and just took off.”

  “She was just fourteen,” Jordan reminded me.

  “Maybe she had help. It could even have been Wilbur Woodbine who helped her. He was an adult, so he might have had resources to help her escape, and they did spend time together.”

  “I guess Hillary running away is something that should be explored. I haven’t touched the bedroom I’ve decided based on the contents was most likely hers yet. Maybe I’ll find a clue to where she planned to go if she did take off. Would the two of you like a tour of the place?” Jordan asked. “What’s here now won’t be for much longer.”

  “I’d love it,” I answered, and Tony agreed.

  “Mike said you plan to move the bodies in the family cemetery to the one in town,” I commented as we went toward the main living area on the first floor.

  “Yes. It seems better that way. None of the people who died while living in this house were happy here. It doesn’t seem right to leave them trapped here for all eternity. Besides, I think I’ll sleep better without constant reminders of the horror the family endured.”

  “Moving them does seem like the right thing to do,” I said. “This house has such a freaky vibe, but it sounds like once you’re finished with it, it’s going to be great. Of course, the kids in town will have to find a new Halloween house.”

  “Halloween house?” Jordan asked.

  “That’s what they call it. It’s really well known, given its violent past and the rumor that it’s haunted. It’s the sort of place teens dare their friends to run up to and knock on the door on Halloween night.”

  “I guess I can see that. I hate to spoil everyone’s fun, but I think the time has come for a new chapter in this old girl’s life.”

  “You’re right. And before I forget, I want to assure you that if you go with local contractors and store owners like Hap, you won’t be disappointed.”

  Jordan grinned. “Did he tell you to say that?”

  I nodded. “But it’s still true. Hap’s a good guy. He’s lived here as long as I’ve been alive and I’ve never heard anyone say a single negative thing about him.”

  “Good to know. I’m thinking gray for the walls in this room.”

  Tony and I paused to look around the parlor.

  “Gray walls with white bookshelves would look nice,” I said.

  “And maybe you can add a gas fireplace on the far wall,” Tony suggested. “You’ll be glad to have it once winter sets in.”

  We chatted for over two hours before Tony and I headed back to my place, where the animals were waiting for their dinner.

  “What a day.” I yawned as Tony drove his truck. “A good day, I suppose, but a long day.”

  “It did my heart good to know Hannah and Houston didn’t die in the house,” Tony said, “and went on to live full lives, though the reason the ruse was necessary is heartbreaking. It must be unbearable to be deserted by your own father that way.”

  I let out a long breath. “It is.”

  He reached over to grab my hand. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. That was an insensitive thing to say.”

  I squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. I knew you were speaking about Hartford Harrington, not my father, but the not knowing is getting harder and harder. I wish there was a way for us to know why he left. And I know you’ve warned me that the why might not be pretty, though knowing my dad is a serial killer, or a fugitive, or whatever, still has to be better than wondering.”

  “I’ve been working on it, but admittedly not as hard as I could have been. I’ll step it up and try looking around on the dark web. Someone has to know something. We just need to find the right someone.”

  I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes. I let the cool breeze from the partially open window brush over my face. There was something so relaxing about driving at night, when the road is deserted and the horizon is shrouded in darkness. “When I was a little girl, I guess around eight or nine, Dad came home from one of his long-distance gigs with a broken hand and a face that was so beaten and bruised he was barely recognizable. I thought he had been in an accident, but it turned out it was a bar fight. Or at least that’s what he told us. I remember Mom was really angry. I’m pretty sure he slept on the sofa right up until he left for his next job. At the time, I didn’t understand why my mom was being so mean to him. He was hurt, and I thought she should be taking care of him. It wasn’t until after I’d grown up a bit and realized he’d come home with unexplained bumps and bruises a lot more often than could be explained by normal clumsiness that I understood why she was so angry. I suppose he might just have been a drunk who got himself into one brawl after another while he was out on the road, but now I’m wondering if the broken bones, cuts, and bruises weren’t the result of something else entirely.”

  “You think he was doing something other than driving across country when he was away?”

  I turned and looked at Tony. “Don’t you? Doesn’t it seem to you from what we’ve already found out that he was living a secret life? And now it looks like he’s moved on to another secret life. How can I possibly know what’s real and what’s a cover? I understand there are men who drink too much and get themselves beaten up in the process, but now that I suspect my dad might actually have been doing something we knew nothing about, I’m starting to remember things. Inconsistencies. Unusual actions and reactions. I wish I could talk to my mom about it, but I know I can’t. Not yet. If my dad was lying to us the entire time he was with us and she doesn’t know about his secret life, I don’t want to bring up the possibility until I have facts to back up my suspicions.”

  Tony turned onto the country road that led to my cabin.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” he said. “As betrayed as you feel, it’s going to be even worse for your mom if she finds out her entire marriage was a lie. I know progress has been slow and the clues have been vague enough not to lead us in a solid direction, but I’m committed to working on this as long as it takes.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Tony.”

  “And if you do think of anything, anything at all, even something totally random, let me know. You never know when some seemingly unimportant memory you might have locked in your mind could give us the clue we need to begin to figure this whole thing out.”

  He pulled into my drive and I sat up taller. I knew the dogs would need to go out, but it was a nice evening despite the storm that was expected to roll in overnight, so I planned to grab a jacket and a flashlight and take them down the trail a short way. The clouds had begun to gather overhead, blocking the light
from the moon as they blew past on their way north.

  “Looks like that storm is coming,” Tony said.

  “Yeah. I think it’s supposed to be here overnight. I guess we can use the moisture a good rain will provide, but I’m not looking forward to doing my route in it tomorrow.”

  “At least it isn’t supposed to be a cold storm,” Tony tried to offer a sliver of comfort.

  “True. It’s been unseasonably warm, which means the storm will most likely upset the mild temperatures we’ve been having.”

  Tony put his arm around my shoulder. “I did hear we might have snow by the end of the week.”

  “I’m going to take the dogs for a short walk. Do you want to come?”

  “Sure.”

  I fed the cats, got my jacket and flashlight, and we headed out. The wind was just starting to pick up, making the bright yellow leaves that had fallen from the grove of aspens lining the trail blow in a random pattern across our feet as we walked hand in hand, with Titan and Tilly running in front of us.

  “Are you busy tomorrow evening?” Tony asked.

  “No. Did you have something in mind?”

  “We never did string your lights or buy your pumpkins. I thought I’d come by to take care of the lights tomorrow afternoon. Then, when you get off, we can get the pumpkins and maybe grab some dinner.”

  I leaned my head on Tony’s shoulder. “I’d like that. I’ll leave the lights on my dining table. Do you still have the key I gave you a while back?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay, then. It seems we have a plan.” I paused as the night, silent except for the rustling as the wind filtered through the trees, seemed to wrap itself around us as we journeyed deeper into the forest. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us,” I added. “I’m glad you’re done with your project and can take some time off.”

  Tony turned and looked at me, then put both arms around my waist. “Me too. Even though I’ve been busy, my life has seemed empty without you in it.”

  A wisp of hair blew across my face. Tony used a finger to tuck it behind my ear. I could feel my heart pounding as the wind picked up and the bright yellow leaves that had been clinging to the aspens rained down around us. I felt like a response of some sort was required of me, yet I was at a loss for words, so I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned in just a bit and touched Tony’s lips ever so lightly with my own. His arms tightened around me as he returned my shy offer. Gentle at first, his lips brushed across mine, creating a tingling that worked its way through my whole body. When I returned his kiss rather than pulling away, as I think he expected me to, his kiss grew firmer. The rain started to fall, but it didn’t really bother me. I knew I would always remember this moment in the years to come. Bright yellow leaves and tears from the sky rained down around us, and the world outside our entwined bodies seemed to melt away as I gave my heart to the person who had held it all along.