Ghost House Revenge

by Clare McNally

  “I had to call three florists,” she said.

  “Had a hard time of it, huh?”

  “Everything’s just fine now,” Alicen said, smiling.

  Tim and Rick were certain they were being sent on another wild goose chase, but they couldn’t question their captain’s orders. So now they stood banging on the newly repaired fence of the construction site, their shirts sticking to them under the merciless sun. The crane above them drowned out the sound of their knocking, and Rick was inclined to give up until the machine stopped. He removed his cap and wiped his forehead.

  “Damned hot, ain’t it?” someone said. A broad-shouldered, shirtless man had opened the gate. Hank Emmons tilted his helmet back. “Are you guys back again?”

  “We received a call this morning pertaining to the case,” Rick said. He stepped inside the fence, followed by his partner. Over the din of the crane, he said, “Do you have any trash bins around here?”

  “Of course we do,” Hank said. “What do you think? But you can’t come in without a helmet. Wait a second.”

  He left and returned a moment later with two hard hats. Rick and Tim donned them, then followed Hank past work crews and machinery. Along the back fence of the site, they found two five-yard containers.

  Rick went close to one and asked, “How long has it been since you opened these?”

  “That one was emptied yesterday,” Hank said. “But this one here hasn’t been opened in a few days. Since the accident, I guess. We use it for dry rubbish—wood scraps, you know? Stuff that keeps for a while.”

  Rick turned to his partner. “You brought the body bag, didn’t you?”

  “Right here,” Tim replied, holding it up.

  Hank looked around at his work crew and saw they were still busy. Then he said in a low voice, “What in the hell is the body bag for?”

  “What do you think?” Rick asked, almost sarcastically.

  Now Hank laughed at him. “Oh, hell! There ain’t nothing in there but trash. Just get out of my way and I’ll prove it.”

  Before Rick could stop him, the foreman climbed up the side of the container and threw it open. The smell that shot up from it was so horrendous that tears welled in his eyes. He backed away, choking.

  “Shit! That’s like rotten meat!”

  “She’s in there, then,” Tim said.

  “Damn right she is,” Hank growled. “And you’d better get her out.”

  Tim and Rick had brought special masks with them, and they tied them around their mouths and noses. Rick was first to climb to the top of the bin, and what he saw made his heart skip a beat. The young woman’s twisted body had been thrown on top of the trash, a broken two-by-four pushed into her stomach. One arm reached for the side of the container, the fingers at its end clawing as if the woman had tried to climb out. Tiny worms made a feast of her flesh, or what was left of it.

  “She looks like she’s been dead for six months,” he said.

  Tim was looking at her now, too, a grimace on his face. At last, wearing canvas gloves, he jumped down into the container. He had to fight a wave of nausea as he knelt down on the floor, feeling the wet, bloated flesh through his gloves. He pulled the heavy-weight bag over her head-first glad her face was down. When he reached her feet, he stopped to study them for a moment.

  “Want me to come in?” Rick shouted.

  “I can do this,” Tim said, resuming his work. “Just be ready to lift her out.”

  Something about her feet bothered him. They had been white and bloated, cut by the thin straps of her sandals. It was horrible, horrible. But why did he single out that one feature?

  At last he tied the end of the bag, stood up, and lifted the gruesome parcel to Rick. He climbed from the container as his partner laid the body on the ground. The work crew stood at a distance, curiosity taking precedence over their duties. Suddenly Tim understood what bothered him about the victim’s sandals. Determining that Hank had kept the crew far enough away so as not to hear him, he turned to Rick and asked, “Didn’t the kids say their driver was wearing boots?”

  “I think I remember that.”

  “This one’s in sandals,” Tim said quietly.

  Rick shook his head at his partner.

  “Do you want to spend the rest of your life looking for a body?” he asked. “Who the hell else would she be?”

  “But the kids said—”

  “The kids were lying,” Rick interrupted.

  “You said that before,” Tim reminded him.

  Rick didn’t answer. He stooped down and grabbed an end of the bag. Tim picked up the other, and in silence they carried the body to the car. Rick made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss this any further. He had his body, and he didn’t care what she was wearing.

  Bryan Davis’s emotions were mixed when he heard the news. He was sad that a woman had died but happy that he at last had something to say to the irate parents who called all day long. Horrifying as all this had been, it was at last over. Bryan could return to keeping the peace in Belle Bay while the county worried about finding the woman’s next of kin.

  Melanie glanced at her watch and saw it was time to meet Gary. She walked toward the exit of the art gallery she had been visiting. The street outside was filled with people and cars that seemed to glow in the hot sunlight. Melanie could see ripples of heat rising from the cracked sidewalk as she opened the door to her car and climbed behind the wheel.

  The engine turned over easily, as it had done every day since she had had it overhauled. Looking behind her, she turned the front of the car just slightly into the street. A taxi came speeding down it, forcing her to stop. Another followed, then a bus and a few cars. It was five minutes before Melanie was able to pull out.

  “Nice way to waste gasoline,” she mumbled, zooming into the road while she had the chance. Following traffic, she crossed Sixth, then Fifth Avenue. Except for the stops and starts expected of New York City traffic, the going was smooth. And then, just as Melanie turned onto Madison, the car began to choke. It slowed down to a complete stop.

  Angered, Melanie pumped the gas pedal and tried to start it again. How could this be happening now? She was embarrassed to hear a dozen horns honking behind her. Angry drivers cursed loudly. Melanie was about to answer them in kind when a loud thud cut off her words. Someone had hit the car, sending it spinning. Melanie heard herself cry out and felt her body stiffening in reaction to the impact.

  The car skidded across the road and sideswiped a lamppost. Melanie never saw it coming.

  A moment of stunned silence followed, and then suddenly a dozen people were swarming about the wreck.

  “Did you see that guy? Hit and run!”

  “She’s bleeding!”

  “Of course she’s bleeding, you idiot! Someone call an ambulance!”

  The proprietor of a nearby men’s store had already taken care of that, and even now the group could hear sirens wailing. More curious than helpful, they didn’t move when the ambulance turned the corner. A police car followed, and two policemen jumped out to push the crowd back as the paramedics tended to Melanie. They carefully pulled her from the wreck and laid her on a stretcher. Twenty minutes later, she was wheeled into the emergency room of nearby Saint Joan’s Hospital.

  In the meantime, Gary was waiting patiently in his office for Melanie’s arrival. It didn’t surprise him that she was late, since traffic was always heavy at this hour.

  The secretary announced that Derek Miller was on the line. Wondering what he wanted, Gary picked up the phone.

  “Saint Joan’s Hospital just called,” Derek said. “Gary, your wife was in an accident just a short while ago.”

  “What?!” Gary cried. “When did this happen? Where is she?”

  “At Saint Joan’s,” Derek repeated. “They found this number in her handbag and called here. But they wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “I’ll go there at once,” Gary said, reaching behind him for his crutches.

  “Don’
t go by yourself, okay?” Derek said.

  “My partner will take me,” Gary assured him.

  It only took twenty minutes to get to the hospital, but to Gary it might have been two hours. Warren opened the glass door for him, and the two men walked up to the reception desk.

  “Can you tell me where my wife is?” Gary asked.

  “Melanie VanBuren,” Warren explained.

  The nurse flipped through a file. “She was admitted just a short while ago,” she said. “Would you please wait over there while I call the doctor?”

  She indicated a small gathering of orange vinyl couches in a corner of the lobby. An elderly woman frowned at Gary over the top of Reader’s Digest.

  “What about my wife?” Gary asked, turning back to the nurse. “Is she all right?”

  “The doctor will tell you everything, sir,” the nurse said politely. “Please sit down.”

  “But is she—”

  “Gary, come on and sit,” Warren said. “The doctor will be out in a minute.”

  Half an hour, then an hour passed with no word, and Gary found himself knocking his crutches together in frustration. At last, though, the doctor appeared.

  “Your wife had a bad blow to the head,” he said quietly. “She’s suffering from a concussion.”

  Gary closed his eyes and steeled himself. “What else is wrong?”

  “Nothing,” the doctor said. “She has a nasty cut on her forehead, of course. But there’s no internal bleeding. She’ll be able to go home after a few days of rest.”

  “How did the accident happen?” Warren asked.

  “It seems Mrs. VanBuren’s car had stalled,” the doctor said, “and was struck by a speeding car. She hit a lamppost, but luckily there wasn’t much damage done to her.”

  “Not much!” Gary cried. “You just said she had a concussion, and—”

  “Relax,” the doctor said. “Would you like to see her?”

  Gary nodded. The doctor led him down a long hallway and opened a door at its end. Gary felt his stomach twist to see his wife lying in that bed, her face swollen beneath a gauze bandage. Her hair was in disarray, some of it plastered to her cheeks. Gary leaned awkwardly on his crutches and brushed it gently away.

  “God,” he whispered, “can we ever live in peace?”

  16

  Kyle was at first delighted to find pizza on the table for dinner, until he realized his mother wasn’t there to serve it. When he and his sisters had come home from school to find her studio empty, they had assumed she was still in the city with their father. But why wasn’t she home yet? Why was Derek taking care of dinner?

  “I’m afraid your mother isn’t coming home tonight,” Derek said, tearing the top off of one of the boxes. “There was an accident today.”

  “Oh, no!” Kyle cried.

  “Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” Derek said, realizing he had spoken too bluntly. “Another car hit hers. All she has is a little concussion, and she’ll be home in a few days. Nothing serious.”

  “What’s a ca-cussion?” Nancy asked.

  “Concussion,” Derek corrected. “It—uh—it just means her head hurts a little bit. But everything else is okay.”

  “Are you sure my mom’s okay?” Gina asked, concerned.

  “That’s what your father said. He’ll be spending the night with her. Hey, start eating this food before it gets cold.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Kyle said.

  “I sure am,” Alicen said.

  Derek put out the pizza. “Please eat at least one slice,” he said. “What would your father do to me if he came home and found you starved? I promise you, your mother’s okay.”

  “Then why does she have to stay in the hospital a few days?” Gina asked. “Why can’t she come home now?”

  “Because the doctors want to keep her under surveillance,” Derek said, not quite sure how to handle this. “It’s just routine. Now, eat!”

  He said that in such an authoritative way that the children obeyed, though they didn’t taste their food. The room became silent, each person busy with his or her own thoughts. Derek’s mind was filled with the sound of that voice over the telephone that morning, the one telling him “Melanie goes today.” What did it mean? That it was no accident that Melanie was in a hospital right now? Derek had thought of phoning the police about the call—especially now that the threat had come true. But having no idea where to find the woman who’d called him, he changed his mind. It had to be coincidence, of course. Melanie was miles and miles away at the time of the call. The woman named Janice didn’t know she was going to be in the city today.

  Besides, the VanBurens had enough worries without him bringing up a new one. That was why he decided to keep the call a secret. And it was also why he hadn’t yet brought up Sarah’s ring. Even though he knew Alicen must have taken it when he passed out last night (he tried not to think of it in any more detail than that), he didn’t want to confront her in front of the children. But later . . .

  Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by small, squeaking noises. He looked up from his plate and saw Nancy’s shoulders quivering. He reached across the table and patted her hair.

  “Nancy, everything’s all right,” he said. “Your mommy’ll be home before the weekend.”

  “I want my mommy now!” the little girl wailed. The word accident had frightened her terribly, making her remember the accident that had hurt her father. Would her mother be a cripple, too?

  “Nancy, it’s just a little accident,” Gina said firmly, as if trying to convince herself. “Derek said mom was fine—didn’t you, Derek?”

  “I sure did,” Derek said, grateful that she was backing him, “And I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  He thought for a moment, trying to change the subject “Hey, guess what?” he said at last.

  “What?” Nancy asked, looking at him through tearful blue eyes.

  “We’re having company tonight,” Derek said. “I called a friend of mine to come over and help me out. Her name is Liza, and she loves kids. I think you’ll like her.”

  Alicen’s eyes became wide. She put her glass of milk down and raised her head to glare at her father. Liza? He had a girlfriend? But how could he do such a thing, when he was supposed to love her mother?

  Derek returned the glare with eyes that told Alicen she’d better not ask any questions. Okay, so he had meant to introduce Liza to her at a better time than this. But he needed last-minute help tonight, not knowing how to handle a houseful of children. And it was his life; he wasn’t about to let a thirteen-year-old run it.

  “When’s Liza coming?” Kyle asked.

  “Around seven,” Derek said. “She’s at school right now.”

  “She goes to school?” Gina asked.

  “Dance school,” Derek replied, still looking at his daughter. “She’ll tell you about it when she gets here.”

  Alicen finally dropped her gaze to her plate and finished her dinner. When the meal was over, Derek sent the VanBuren children from the kitchen with the announcement that he and Alicen would take care of cleaning up. He wanted to be alone with his daughter.

  He didn’t waste any time. “Did you take Sarah Kaufman’s ring?”

  “Of course not!” Alicen cried. “Why?”

  “I found it in your room last night,” Derek said. “So don’t deny having had it. I was going to put it down here in the kitchen—to make it look as if Sarah had dropped it here when she fell. I was trying to protect you, Alicen. And what do you do? You steal the damned thing again!”

  Alicen tore angrily at the empty pizza box and stuffed the pieces into the trash can.

  “I didn’t take any old ring,” she insisted, remembering nothing.

  “Alicen,” Derek said, forcing himself to be patient, “do you have any idea what would happen to my job if the VanBurens learned you stole that ring?”

  “I didn’t!” Alicen cried, tears welling in her eyes. “And I don’t care about your dumb old job!”

 
; Derek slammed a dish he was washing against the sink, breaking it. “You damned well better care!” he shouted. “This job was a godsend for me, and you know it. Do you want to go back to living in a roach-infested apartment again?”

  Alicen was crying openly now, staring down at her feet. She was confused, not understanding why her father was accusing her of this crime. She hadn’t done a thing.

  “Look, all I ask is that you give it back,” Derek said. ‘I’ll mail it to Mayor Kaufman, and no one will ever know where it came from.”

  “I don’t have it,” Alicen blubbered.

  “Liar!” Derek cried. His head was starting to hurt him, and he rubbed at the bruises under his eyes. “This is a terrible thing you did, Alicen. Give me back that ring, or so help me, I’ll—”

  “Don’t you hit me!”

  Derek drew his hand back. He had been so close to slapping her, hating her for all her lies. But no, this wasn’t the way to handle her. And the other children didn’t need to hear an argument What was the matter with him? Was he upset because of the mysterious fall he’d taken the night before? Or was it because that crank caller had predicted Melanie’s accident? So damned much had happened in the last two days.

  “Alicen, you’re grounded until that ring shows up again,” Derek said. “God knows I’d like to beat the hell out of you, but I can’t prove you’re guilty. I just hope your conscience takes care of that. Now, get out of here. Go do your homework.”

  Alicen threw her dish towel on the counter and stormed from the kitchen. How could her father say such terrible things about her? She had never touched Sarah’s ring! She heard Gina calling her from the playroom but ignored her and ran upstairs. In her room she threw herself on the bed and started pounding the mattress.

  “I hate him!” she seethed. “I hate him!”

  The room was growing chilly, and she pulled the bed’s coverlet around her like a cocoon. “I wish he was dead.”

  Something was pressing against her back. Alicen rolled around and looked up. She heard her name called, and she answered very softly. A moment later, a cloud, shaped like a woman, appeared. Alicen’s trembling stopped immediately, and the room became very quiet. Slowly she reached up. But no one took her hand.