The Haunted Inn (Haunted House Ghost Story): The Hauntings of Kingston

by Michelle Dorey

  Tim shook his head and grinned. “No problem on my end. They’ll be happy I’m becoming a hotelier, carrying on the family tradition.”

  Brad fidgeted in his chair and his chest felt light. This was sounding better and better. “We’ll talk to the bank and see how much we need to have and how much we can spend.”

  Tim waved him off, his chin lowered to his chest, suppressing a belch. “You forget, this is my forte. I’ll visit some mortgage sites, plug in some numbers on-line. We’ll know tonight!” He chugged the rest of his beer and signalled to the waitress for the bill.

  Her cherry lips curved in a slow smile, and her gaze locked with Tim’s as she set the bill on the table. When she left, he picked it up and glanced at the back.

  Brad did an eye-roll. There were a series of numbers scrawled under swirly script, ‘Carly’, on the small piece of paper. Of course. She’d given him her number. Poor little fool. She’ll be just another notch on Tim’s bedpost.

  But Tim was too wound up to follow up on that, at least for a few days, hopefully. It was the only down-side to rooming with him, the endless parade of women and his total lack of shame about that.

  Tim pocketed the note and fished a twenty dollar bill from his wallet. “Jeeze, I really hope we can pull this off. I don’t know how much more of that place I can stand. My boss is such a total moron.”

  Brad wiped the froth of foam from his upper lip, setting the now empty glass down on the table with a thud. “Maybe we can see some houses this weekend. I’ve had just about enough with working at the penitentiary myself.” He chuckled. “You and me? We’re both trying to break out of jail!”

  Chapter 3

  Tim

  They couldn’t get back to their apartment fast enough. While Brad went to the kitchen for more beer, Tim grabbed his laptop and woke it up. He barely noticed when Brad set a fresh one on the coffee table and dropped onto the sofa opposite him, firing up his own computer.

  “You check out the real estate, I’ll find out how much we can borrow,” Tim said.

  “Duh! As if I didn’t know. You’re the finance guy, ‘Mr. Trump’.”

  “Keep up the smart ass and you’re fired.”

  It didn’t take very long before Tim had numbers from two banks and a mortgage brokerage company. He let out a low whistle. This looked better than he thought!

  He glanced across at Brad. “Three hundred big ones, Mr. Wilson.”

  Brad’s eyes shone and his cheeks were flushed when he put his own laptop between them. “Shove over, Mr. Holland and have a look at these.”

  The logo of the multiple listing service was positioned at the top of the page, while below that were thumbnail pictures of houses, along with prices. When the cursor hovered over the picture, the specifications of the properties filled the space.

  Brad’s finger pointed to one on the top line. “Look at that. It’s ancient. If it has running water and electricity, I’d be surprised.”

  Tim’s eyes narrowed. That one was too run down, but what would you expect at that price? A house on the third line down caught his eye. Holy shit. It was a limestone monstrosity on a couple acres of land just out in the country. Wow. It was even on a lake. At just under three hundred K, it looked like a steal.

  “That one.” His finger touched the screen.

  “Yeah, that one looks pretty creepy all right.” Brad flagged it and then scrolled to the next page. There were a couple other properties that looked like they might be suitable and Brad flagged those as well.

  Tim sat back and polished the rest of his beer off. “I think we’ve got a good start on this. I’ll call an agent and see about looking at those houses on Sunday when you’re off. We’ll have to keep our jobs right up to the last day, so that the income’s there to qualify for the mortgage.”

  Brad got to his feet and stretched, his long frame and arms almost reaching the ceiling. “We’ll probably still need to float a loan from our parents. With the renos and covering costs until we can get guests... I think we’ll need some breathing room.”

  Tim sat quietly for a few moments. He couldn’t get the picture of that place on the lake out of his mind. There was something about it. If only it was as good inside as out.

  Chapter 4

  Brad

  At six p.m. on the dot Brad pulled the door to the shop open. Immediately the smell of sandalwood incense filled his nostrils while the tinkling of bells announced his arrival. As always, the cluttered shelves, overflowing with everything from candles, essential oils, healing crystals to prayer mats and smudging herbs made him feel claustrophobic, rather than at peace.

  Aphra, the fifty year old owner of Quantum Leap, looked over the top of her cats’ eyes glasses and managed to grace him with a hollow smile. Her bony tattooed arms rested on the counter, a catalogue of some sort between them, while some sort pendant dangled between almost non-existent breasts. With the butch haircut, she made kind of an androgynous statement-neither ying nor yang.

  “Hi Aphra. How’s business today?” He inched by a display of crystal angels and prisms, feeling like the proverbial bull in the china shop.

  Her heavy eyebrows were like caterpillars crawling higher on her lined forehead. “Business...” She inhaled deeply through flared nostrils and shook her head slightly, making the dark pyramid earrings flash in the light, “The cosmos is aglow with molecular structures, Brad.” She turned back to the catalogue, easily dismissing him.

  He stared at her blankly. What the hell did that mean? If not for the fact that she was Sophia’s boss and Sophia needed the job, he’d say something smart, right back at her. Instead he just muttered, “Yes, of course.” He turned and pretended to examine a display of copper rods set next to a row of books. A small sign below the display read “Divining and Dowsing For Water”. That people actually bought into any of this shit was the real mystery of the shop.

  “Brad!” Sophie’s voice was cheerful, walking out of the back room towards him.

  As usual, the sight of her auburn curls, the smooth ivory complexion and sparkling green eyes took his breath away. Her youth and friendly demeanor was in sharp contrast to her employer’s reserved disposition. When she looked at you, there was a gentle curiosity and interest that made you feel you were the center of her world.

  On top of her ‘great personality’ she had a killer bod. She packed so much into her short frame. While Aphra was thin to the point of emaciation, Sophie was curvalicious. From the swell of her breasts to the flair of her hips she was utterly and completely all girl.

  “Hi! Ready to go?” he said, tipping his chin at the door. He couldn’t wait to get out of this claustrophobic shop and hold her close in the bright sunshine outside.

  In answer, she winked and then turned to her boss. “See you tomorrow, Aphra. Be well.” At Aphra’s solemn nod, Sophie turned and followed him out of the shop.

  Once they were on the sidewalk, he pulled her close and kissed her. The scent of her hair and perfume filled his senses. If not for the fact that he made reservations at the new steakhouse that had just opened, he would have suggest going back to her place and ordering in.

  She reached for his hand and looked up at him. “How was life behind bars today?” Her mouth twitched in a teasing grin.

  “Same old. You know, I don’t actually go into the cells...I work with the Psychologist administering psych tests and doing data input.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. Actually, going into the cells on the range might be more interesting than the clerical work he trudged through.

  “Yeah, yeah. Better you than me. It’s a toxic environment.” She gave her head a shake and crooked her arm into his as they headed down the street. “I’d rather make less money and do interesting work in the shop.”

  Yeah, real fascinating work dusting the display shelves of pyramids and celestial crystals. It was a subject that they didn’t agree on. He didn’t get the whole mystical, quantum physics stuff and she didn’t like to think of the criminals where he worked. He de
cided to change the subject before the evening got off on the wrong foot. In the three months they’d been going out, he’d learned she could be pretty stubborn.

  “Hey! Tim and I are going into business together. I might be able to quit the pen soon if everything pans out.” He grinned thinking this was something she’d get—the whole spiritual, ghosty thing.

  “Really?” Her lips parted and her eyes were wide staring up at him.

  “Yeah. We’re going to buy a haunted house and make it a B&B. After seeing the market for spooky experiences, people wanting to get the crap scared out of them, we think it might make us a lot of money. And you know, Tim’s family—”

  She stopped suddenly and jerked his hand. “Are you kidding? That’s crazy! Neither of you believe in the afterlife, yet you’re willing to exploit people who do?” She shook her head, frowning at him. “What’s more, this stuff is dangerous. You can’t toy with the supernatural.”

  Watching her face contort, he felt the muscles at the back of his neck tighten. He should have known that she’d take the haunted stuff way too seriously. His voice was louder than he’d intended when he spoke. “C’mon, Sophie! It’s kind of like the spooky house at a carnival, except that it’s a hotel, a longer experience. It’s not gonna be real! We’re going to create the supernatural experience. We just need a big old house.”

  Her head jerked back, and she rolled her eyes theatrically. “Oh, that makes all the difference! You’re just going to trick people and take their money.” She yanked her hand out of his and folded her arms across her chest.

  “You went to the Haunted movie. You paid good money. It was a story! People want the thrill. That’s all we’re doing.” He reached for her hand, clasping her fingers through his.

  Her lips set in a straight line and she stood silent for a moment.

  This was a good sign. He kept his smile gentle, not wanting to lord it over her that he’d scored a point. “Look, how much different is it where you work? Whether the crystals, the candles or oils actually do anything is open for debate. But the people believe it and even if it’s a placebo type thing, it gives them what they paid for, right?”

  She let out a long breath and looked up at him. “But Brad, I’m worried that you may actually stumble upon a for real haunted house. Then what?”

  There was no way he was going to push the envelope any farther. He didn’t believe in any afterlife and so what if she did? It was sweet of her to worry about him. “I’ll be careful.” He put his hand over his heart. “Promise.”

  “Oh yeah?” She folded her arms. “How are you going to do that?”

  Damn, this was starting to get out of hand. He cocked his head to the side and looked her in the eye. “You’re really worried about this.”

  “Yes!” She stamped her foot on the sidewalk, and looked so damn cute doing it.

  “Okay, how about I wear a garlic necklace strung together with sweet grass?”

  “Brad this isn’t funny! You’re planning on messing with the astral plane and you don’t realize what you’re getting yourself into!” Her eyes were fiery now. “And making fun of me isn’t helping!”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay— I’m sorry for that.” He lowered his hands. “Listen, Sophie, we’re not planning on buying a haunted house. We’re going to buy a place that only looks like it could be. We’ll install some special effects or something to scare the guests, and that’s all.” He shrugged. “Kind of like the attraction at Disney World, okay? Safe as anything, and a real money maker, see?”

  “Thanks for the apology,” she replied. She looked away for a moment. “I guess I see what you mean,” she said softly. Turning back to face him she smiled. “Although I’d love to see you wearing a garlic necklace.” She took his hand and looked up at him. “It’s just that this kind of stuff in the real world makes me kind of nervous.”

  At the smile blossoming on her face, he pulled her close and hugged her. He really, really liked her. Somehow, if they were going to last, they’d have to find a compromise on this subject. But, first off, he’d have to help her find another job. That mystical new age bullshit wasn’t helping her stay grounded.

  Chapter 5

  Brad

  Brad sat back into the plush cushioning of the front seat driving to the old house in the country. The real estate lady, Gwen Connors, had to be doing really well for herself. The car was a Beamer and she was probably only in her mid thirties. She had dark hair and although a little on the plump side, she was attractive and friendly enough. Her brown eyes were round and serious when she turned slightly, glancing at Tim in the back seat. She was sure taking her time answering the question.

  “Yes. I’m afraid that’s why the house is priced so low. It’s been on the market for almost a year and the owner is seriously motivated to sell.” She frowned. “There’s not too many people who want to live in a house where a family was murdered.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Tim’s voice was a low murmur from the back seat, but in the quiet of the car, was still quite plain.

  Gwen’s jaw dropped and her head jerked around. She shot a look of consternation at him and quickly returned her eyes to the road.

  Oh shit. Brad cleared his throat and spoke. “What he means, is that because of...well, you know, that occurrence, it’s priced on the low side. Obviously, what happened to that family is tragic. But, it doesn’t affect the house, not for us at least. We aren’t superstitious, just poor.”

  Gwen kept her eyes on the road but gave a small nod. Following up, Brad continued. “So, this is your first time showing the house?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No, I’ve had a couple of showings.” She sighed. “But when I consider the amount of advertizing I’ve done, I won’t do much more than break even when it finally does sell.

  “Who owns the place?” asked Tim from the back seat.

  Gwen shook her head. “I don’t know. One of the lawyers in town put up the listing acting on behalf of an estate. Who the current owners are, and how long they had the place is something I don’t know.”

  “Is that very common?”

  “No, not really...” She started to say something else, but stopped herself. “Oh well, every property has a story, I suppose.”

  Brad watched her flip the turn signal on and the car slowed to turn onto a side road. They drove for a few minutes longer, passing by fields of green grass where a herd of cows grazed lazily in the sun. At a bend in the road, the sparkling, blue waters of a lake appeared.

  “That’s Loughborough Lake. The house is about fifty feet away from the shore, on a two acre lot.” Her hand rose from the wheel, pointing to her left. “There it is.”

  Brad’s eyes became wide gazing at the stately home...actually more like a mansion than a home. They drove down the narrow dirt lane, and he couldn’t help but grin like a fool. The picture in the real estate site on line didn’t do the place justice. It was two and a half stories high, made of limestone with tall windows, rounded on the top side. Green ivy clung to the gray stone, snaking by the entranceway to the uppermost point. If he actually believed in ghosts and spectral beings, this was a place where they’d want to hang out, all right.

  “Holy cow.” Tim’s voice, soft and awestruck mirrored his own feelings exactly.

  “Would you like to walk the property first or go right in?” Gwen’s face was tight, and her smile seemed forced looking over at him.

  Was she serious? He could hardly tear his gaze away from the stately manor. “I think we should check the house. I mean, what’s not to love about this setting? Clean waterfront and a dock, a huge lawn and garage?” Brad pulled the handle of the car door and stepped out, taking everything in, from the small dormer windows on the top floor to the veranda wrapped around the ground floor of the building. It might be the first place they’d seen, but it was absolutely perfect so far.

  Gwen walked ahead, crossing the veranda and opening the front door, a heavy, black wooden slab, the upper hal
f a window dissected by swirls of iron grating.

  Tim nudged him with his shoulder and his voice was barely above a whisper. “Pretty freaking amazing. I think we’ve found our house. The lake’s an added bonus.”

  The creaking of the door hinges, wailing against the intrusion into the house, was like fingernails on a blackboard. Brad’s smile fell from his face, watching the dark, yawning opening in the house and Gwen’s pasted on smile. The fine hair on the nape of his neck tingled and he shivered, despite the warmth of the day.

  Tim’s hand landed solidly between his shoulder blades and Brad almost jumped out of his skin.

  “Oops. Sorry about that.” But the flashing grin from Tim was anything but sorry. “That creaking old door...Ooo, so scary. No way we’re ever gonna’ oil those hinges.” He jerked his head to the side. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

  Brad cleared his throat and with shoulders squared, walked toward the house. For a moment, he’d felt a little uneasy, but that was understandable. There was bound to be some hang-over effect of knowing the actual history of the house, some guy murdering his whole family and then killing himself.

  On the positive side, they didn’t have to make up some gruesome past. The house’s history was authentic. That was something he’d have to keep from Sophie. She’d freak. He climbed the steps and crossed the veranda to the front door.

  Gwen stood to the side of the door, extending her hand for them to enter first. She’d become more quiet and her eyes kept darting around, above a thin lipped smile.

  When he stepped into the entrance, a musty smell filled his nostrils. Dust motes danced in the stream of light cascading through the high windows. Straight ahead was an imposing set of wooden stairs.