The Walk That Haunts Me

by Rose Pressey

  “Well, you had a lot of action today,” Tammy said. “I’ve barely had a chance to talk to you.”

  “You wouldn’t believe how much has happened,” I said.

  I told Tammy about Annie being caught on video and seeing another possible ghost. Then I told her about Jessie coming in and Mrs. Mae wanting the pie contest winner announced, which Tammy had overheard.

  “That was kind of rude of her,” Tammy said.

  “I guess she’s just anxious,” I said.

  Now I’d saved the worst for last as I shared the news with Tammy about the newspaper. Much to my chagrin Tammy retrieved the library’s copy and read the article for herself.

  “That is so wrong of Jenny,” Tammy said.

  In the article Jenny had basically said I was somehow responsible. And what was worse was the newspaper had printed the story without even asking me for any information. Just as I tossed the newspaper on the counter my phone rang. Brannon’s number appeared on the screen.

  “That’s Brannon, I need to take the call. I’ll be back in my office if you need my help,” I said.

  “I’m fine even if our conversation was cut short.” Tammy laughed.

  I answered the call and headed down the hallway. “You’re not going to believe what I found out.” Breathlessly I filled Brannon in on what I’d found.

  “I want to have another talk with Jenny,” he said. “But so far I haven’t been able to find her today. I’ll track her down soon enough. She can’t get away from me forever.”

  “Now I have to figure out what the ghosts have to do with all this,” I said.

  “That might just fall into place when we figure out the other things,” Brannon said.

  I leaned back in my chair. “With any luck that’s true.”

  “All right, I’ll call you later when I find out something,” he said.

  “Just be careful,” I said.

  “I promise I won’t be kidnapped,” he said.

  Now he was just making fun.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I said.

  Maybe I needed to research and find the ghosts. It would be a long shot but maybe I could find a picture in one of the older newspapers or something. Or find out more information by looking up Jonathan’s last name. Maybe they were relatives. One way or the other I had to find the ghosts.

  As I stood from my desk my phone rang, but I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?” I said when I answered.

  There was no response.

  “Alexandria, is that you? It’s really important that I talk to you. I think I may have found who really killed Lucy Marcus. So if you talk to the police I’m sure they will be able to get this all settled.”

  No one said a word.

  “Hello?” I looked at my screen and realized that the call had ended.

  Of course, I dialed the number back again and didn’t get an answer. This was a different number from the one that had called before. How bizarre. I didn’t understand why Alexandria had talked to me the first time and wouldn’t talk this time. That was assuming that this was her calling just now. Who else would call like that and not say a word? I figured maybe she was just too scared to say anything. My phone alerted me to a message.

  Beware. After you too.

  Unknown number. That was how messages from Annie appeared. Was this from Annie? Did she need my help? The text message on my phone didn’t exactly make sense. I hurried from my office and back into the library’s main room. A few people milled around, so I had to sneak around to find Annie.

  “Annie?” I whispered as I moved up and down stacks.

  I turned to the left.

  “Annie?” I called out again.

  Footsteps sounded from behind me. When I spun around Annie was right there. I jumped. Yes, I was a bit on edge.

  “Oh, Annie. I was looking for you. I got your text message, but I don’t understand what it means.” I flashed the phone at her.

  I didn’t send that message.

  What? The text wasn’t from her? If not from Annie, then who had sent the message? Was it from the person who called and didn’t speak?

  “That’s odd. I thought it was from you.”

  I typed a message. Who is this?

  I stared at the phone for a few seconds, but still no response.

  “I suppose it was just a wrong number.”

  Is everything all right? That text was actually from Annie.

  “Yes, I think someone just had the wrong number,” I said with a smile. “I’ll just get back to work.”

  How would I concentrate on work with this one my mind? Another strange twist to my already weird life.

  Chapter 15

  Thoughts of my warm cozy bed were at the front of my mind. I wanted to relax with a book and maybe a small dose of chocolate. As I made my way up the path toward the front door a strange sensation came over me. I paused for a moment with my gaze traveling to the porch. Something was on the front door. It looked like a note had been left for me. Considering the recent incidents, I wasn’t excited to see the paper waiting for me.

  Perhaps the message was from my mom or Tammy. I wasn’t sure why they wouldn’t just send me a text on my phone. My mother wasn’t the best at sending messages over the phone. Imagine that, a ghost was better at the modern device than my mother. She much preferred to take a pen to paper. But she knew that I would answer much faster if she sent the text, therefore she had relented and learned to send them. I continued my trek toward the front door, anxious to see what had been left for me.

  I’d only put one foot on the bottom step leading up the porch when I saw the knife sticking in the front door. There was a note underneath pinned to the door. Who had done this? I looked around to see if the person was still here. My neighbor across the street was getting out of her car and walking toward her front door. She hadn’t looked my way. Other than her no one was around. This was terrifying. I saw no one around so I moved closer. Though fear raced through me, I had to read what was on the note.

  My legs shook as I stood in front of the door. The words on the paper were even stranger than I’d imagined. A blueberry pie recipe was written on the paper. That was obviously a message about the pie contest or telling me that I would end up like Lucy Marcus. Stabbed over a pie? Had Alexandria. Emerson left this note? Maybe that phone call proclaiming her innocence was nothing more than a fake. Was the note from Mrs. Mae, still angry with me for not announcing the contest winner? I couldn’t believe someone had left a knife with a pie recipe on my door. That certainly took a lot of nerve and a lot of craziness.

  I’d been around Brannon enough to know not to touch the knife. I hurried and opened my door, racing inside and locking it behind me. I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed his number.

  “Hey, sweetheart, I was hoping you’d call soon. Are you home now?” he asked.

  I released a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Someone left a knife in my front door with a blueberry pie recipe attached it.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said.

  Thank goodness he didn’t ask if this was a joke. What would I do until he arrived? I certainly would never look at blueberry pie the same way again. I paced across the floor, trying to wrap my mind around what had happened. Soon a siren sounded outside. I hadn’t expected Brannon to turn on the siren to get here, but I supposed he felt this was urgent. I peeked out the window at his car as he pulled up in front of the house. Flashing lights cast a blue glow over the front lawn.

  Brannon jumped out of the car and raced up the path toward the house. I opened the door, still not touching the knife. However, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Brannon stepped in front of the door and stared at it as well. After taking gloves from his pocket, he put them on before touching the knife.

  “You didn’t touch it, right?” he asked.

  “No way,” I said.

  “We’ll try to get some fingerprints o
ff it.” He pulled the knife from the door.

  The metal blade had left a gash in the wood. Brannon took out a plastic bag and then shoved the note inside as well.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, hugging me.

  Before I answered he gave me a delicious kiss on the lips.

  When our lips parted, I said, “Just a little shaken.”

  Brannon and I walked into the foyer.

  “I’m going to check around and see if there are any other pieces of evidence around the house.” Brannon rubbed my arms.

  “I’ll wait inside,” I said.

  Maybe I’d really wait inside this time. The knife had shaken me to my core. What if Jenny had left the knife? After all I thought for sure I’d seen her at the window. Why the pie recipe though?

  After Brannon headed out into the darkness, I paced the length of the house. I went from one room to the other, from window to window, looking to see what Brannon was doing outside. When the front door opened I let out a little scream and spun around.

  “It’s just me,” Brannon said.

  I released a deep breath. “Thank goodness. I’m on edge.”

  “It’s understandable after what you found. I’m all done with work for the night. How about I stay here? It would make me feel better. I’ll have another officer come by and pick up this knife. I want to test for fingerprints right away.”

  “I don’t have food.”

  “I’m sure we can whip up something,” Brannon said with a smile.

  “That would make me feel better,” I said.

  Brannon and I headed to the kitchen. As Brannon placed a phone call, I managed to locate more soup. Soon I’d heated up the dinner and Brannon and I sat at the dining room table. We discussed who could have left the recipe. At this point I felt like we were just making guesses with no solid clues. One thing for certain, I thought the person who left the knife was responsible for the murder.

  After we finished the vegetable soup, we cleaned the dishes and went into the living room. Maybe it was time for me to veg out in front of the TV for a while and take my mind off all the craziness.

  Just as I was ready to plop down on the sofa, I spotted something out the window.

  “Someone’s out there,” I said.

  He rushed over to me, leaning closer to the window. After a couple seconds he ran toward the door. I rushed over as Brannon darted outside with his gun drawn. I hoped it wasn’t a neighbor and I’d scared them to death by sending Brannon out there like that.

  It had looked like someone dressed in black. And I thought they were walking close to the house. After possibly spotting us in the house, the person ran over to the trees at the edge of the yard. Brannon had his flashlight and gun out while searching all around the yard. After a few more minutes, Brannon came back into the house.

  “I didn’t find anyone,” Brannon said. “Are you sure you saw someone?”

  “I’m positive. But then again, maybe it was just a ghost.”

  “Either way, I hope they realize they shouldn’t come back.” He closed the blinds.

  It gave me the creeps knowing that someone had been looking in.

  *

  Brannon had left. I was already in bed and comfortable but there was something that just made me feel on edge at the same time. I looked over at the door, maybe expecting to see a ghost. There was nothing there. Thank goodness. Most people asked why I didn’t just move out of this creepy house. Just because the house had been used as a funeral home at one time didn’t mean that it wasn’t beautiful. It was just part of life. I was proud that I had brought this place back to its former beauty.

  Something told me to get out of bed. I eased out from under the covers and immediately went over to the window that looked out over the backyard. I’d only been standing there for a couple of seconds when I spotted them. The three ghosts were looking right at me. They stood by a tall oak tree at the edge of my property. What did they want? Thank goodness within seconds they disappeared. I hoped they never came back. Would I be able to sleep now? I had to try. Now that they were gone I would just go back to bed. Maybe they just wanted me to know that they were there. A friendly visit? Ha. That was unlikely.

  When I spun around, I screamed. The ghosts were in my bedroom with me, standing right there at the foot of my bed staring at me. I moved so quickly that I tumbled face first onto the hardwood floor, landing right at the ghosts’ feet. They had no reaction to this, although I expected that to change at any second. The least they could do after scaring me like that was to say something. Couldn’t they tell me why they were determined to terrify me? I would’ve spoken but I was momentarily speechless at the sight of them standing in my bedroom. This was my sanctuary. No ghosts allowed. Did I need to post a sign on the door?

  I scrambled backward toward the other side of the room. Once at the wall, I pressed my body against it as if putting distance between us would help. But now I had nowhere else to go. I should have made a run for the door. With my back pressed against the wall, that meant there was no way I was getting out. Could I make a run for the door? If I tried that then I would have to move past them. I didn’t want them to reach out and grab me. I couldn’t believe the ghosts were in my bedroom.

  “What do you want? I yelled.

  Now anger rushed through my body.

  Without an answer, they disappeared. Poof, they were gone. I tried to steady my heavy breathing so that I wouldn’t hyperventilate. Had they moved to a different spot in the room? I waited a couple minutes and then crawled toward the bed. With a shaky hand, I grabbed the bed skirt and yanked it up. No ghosts under there. What was I thinking? Ghosts wouldn’t hide under the bed like the boogie man, right?

  I turned my attention toward the closet. Pushing to my feet, I tiptoed over as if I would sneak up on them. In one swift movement I jerked the door open. Releasing a deep breath, I realized the ghosts weren’t in there either. How would I relax though? I jumped back in bed and pulled the covers up close to my chin. I wasn’t sure at what point I’d finally dozed off. Thank goodness the ghosts hadn’t retuned. Yet.

  ***

  That note that I’d found on the door was still on my mind. So when I opened the book return slot and saw a piece of paper, I immediately thought about the note. Surely it wasn’t another note for me. Not at the library. Nevertheless, I reached in and grabbed the books and the piece of paper as well. After unfolding it I realized that it was a recipe just like the other one. But this one wasn’t for a blueberry pie, it was for cherry pie. I was almost positive that the red spots on the paper weren’t from cherry filling. It looked to be blood. Chills ran across my body as I raced back over to the reference desk with the paper in my hand.

  “I found this note in the book slot,” I said.

  Tammy’s eyes widened. “Is that blood on the paper?”

  “I don’t know if it’s blood, or cherry from a cherry pie. But I don’t want to find out. This is like the paper that was on my door. Thank goodness they didn’t leave a knife this time though.” I couldn’t believe I’d gotten a bloody recipe.

  My hand trembled as I called Brannon. “Brannon, you have to come to the library and see this recipe. I got another one.”

  “Was there a knife?” he asked.

  “Not this time. A cherry pie recipe with what looks like blood on the paper. I’ll take that as a threat.”

  “We’ll be there soon,” Brannon said.

  He’d said we will be there soon. Did that mean more officers? When about ten police cars arrived in front of the library, I knew that it wasn’t only him this time. The officers searched the library as if it was a crime scene again. Now there would definitely be more talk in town. I really wanted to keep this low-key if possible but that yellow crime scene tape would surely give it away.

  “We’re looking for any other clues or fingerprints. If we can get a match on the knife left at your door and the paper here at the library, then perhaps we can find the killer,” Brannon said.

 
; “Do you think the killer’s doing this?” Tammy asked.

  “Who else could it be?” I asked.

  “That’s true,” she said with fear running through her voice. “Oh, the library is a crime scene again.”

  “Have you checked any of the emails today? Or any other video surveillance?” Brannon asked.

  “Not yet. I just got here and decided to get the books out of the slot. But I can look right now.”

  “Yes, see if you find anything,” he said.

  “There are a lot of emails. It must’ve been an active night.”

  I opened the email that said it was from one of the outside cameras. Soon an image of someone near the book return spot appeared.

  “Here’s something,” I said, pointing at the screen.

  Brannon hurried over and looked closer at the screen. Unfortunately, the image wasn’t that clear and it was the back of the person.

  “Maybe we can go through the video and catch a better shot of the front of the person as they were coming up the path.”

  I checked the video around the time that the email had been sent. And I saw the person dressed all in black. Just like the person I’d seen at the house. Unfortunately, it was dark outside and it was impossible to make out any features of the face.

  “I guess we’ll have to go on height,” Brannon said.

  “But that doesn’t tell us much since the height seems average,” I said.

  “Well, it certainly helps some,” Brannon added.

  “I’m thinking all the people on my list of suspects are the same height. Or at least close.”

  “You have a list of suspects?” Brannon asked.

  “Of course, don’t you?” I asked.

  I saved the image and sent it to his phone.

  “I’ll let you know if anything comes up with the fingerprints,” he said. “Call me if anything else happens.”