4 The Ghosts in the Attic

by SUE FINEMAN

  Scratchy music started playing, and Charlie glanced around to find the source. The hair on his arms stood straight out when he spotted the music box sitting on top of a dusty trunk. That music box didn’t start playing on its own.

  “John Garrett, is that you?” Charlie didn’t want to live in a haunted house, but he knew enough about ghosts to know they had reasons for being earthbound. Maybe they didn’t know they were dead. Maybe they had issues from the past to resolve. And maybe they were angry. He didn’t want his daughter living in the same house with an angry ghost. He’d have to find a way to send John on his way.

  He quickly checked for leaks in the attic and found none, then climbed down the steep attic steps to the bedroom below. Minutes later, he locked the door, closed the dumpster, and drove home.

  By the time he showered, it was nearly one in the morning. Everyone else was asleep, but Alex was talking and crying in her sleep. He sat on the side of her bed and rubbed her shoulder. “Alex, wake up. Come on, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

  She rolled toward him and grasped his arm. “Taylor?”

  “She’s sleeping peacefully. Wilma is guarding her.”

  “I heard her scream. I thought—”

  “That was in your dream. I just checked on her. She’s fine, sleeping peacefully.”

  Alex rubbed her eyes. “I thought you were out for the night.”

  She thought he had a date? “As in with a woman?”

  She nodded.

  “I have a house to renovate, Alex. There’s a lot of work to do, and I want to get it finished in this lifetime, so I can move out of my parents’ house.”

  Remembering the last time they were together in his bed, Charlie felt his body becoming aroused. He stood and pulled the covers over her shoulder, anxious to get out of the room before he did something foolish, like climb into that bed with her. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right across the hall if you need me.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Charlie stretched out in bed, tired yet wide awake. Alex thought he was with a woman tonight, when the only woman he’d ever loved was right here, sleeping across the hall.

  He hadn’t been with a woman since Valentine’s Day, the night Caitlin told him she’d taken a job in Savannah, Georgia. Two months was a long time for him to go without a woman in his bed, but then he’d gone six months after Alex left him. Six long months of trying to sleep without dreaming of Alex, six agonizing months without her in his arms. Then Andy told him it was time to stop moping around and start living again. So he did. He found a woman that night and another that weekend. Finding women to sleep with him had never been a problem.

  Andy was happily married and so was Billy. His little sister had someone special in her life, so why couldn’t he find a woman he could be happy with?

  Why did he have to be the odd one in the family?

  <>

  Saturday morning, Alex woke to a quiet house. Charlie had left his bedroom door open, and she stood in the doorway, watching him sleep. The blanket was wrapped around one leg and his big foot stuck out. He hadn’t shaved in at least three days, and the black whiskers gave him a rugged, bad boy look. She used to love having him rub those whiskers against her sensitive nipples when they made love. But he didn’t want her now. Charlie would never forgive her for keeping Taylor hidden from him. How could he forgive her, when she couldn’t forgive herself?

  Alex took a long, hot shower and gently washed her hair, what there was of it. She couldn’t scrub her scalp without tearing her stitches, and she couldn’t get her hair trimmed or use any styling products until everything healed. With her ugly hair and bruises on her face that were turning all shades of purple and green, she couldn’t stand to look in the mirror. Her breasts were bruised and sore, too.

  After her shower, she stood in front of her bedroom mirror and tried on hats. The one she liked the best was a black knit beret. If she cocked it to the left, she could hide most of her stitches, but her ugly hair was still visible. One was a straw hat with a yellow band and bow. That one didn’t cover much either, and it caught on her stitches.

  She tried on three more before finding the funky one in the bottom of the box. The hat was faded blue chambray with the brim turned up in front and fastened with a plastic daisy. It didn’t cover everything, but the hat was soft and comfortable. If she wore it with her big yellow sunglasses, most of the bruises and much of her chopped off hair wouldn’t show.

  The deep voice behind her said, “I like that one.”

  She turned to face Charlie. “So do I.”

  He walked closer and peered at her face. “Another few days and you’ll be beautiful again.”

  “Yeah, right.” It would take more than a few days before she’d look human again. As the swelling went down, the ugly cuts beside her left eye showed more. No matter how well those cuts healed, no matter what she did with her hair, no matter how much makeup she used, she’d never look the same as she had before the attack. She’d never feel quite the same either. Trust wouldn’t come as easily. Her father and brothers might not have meant for her to be hurt like this, but they set her up. What was Mario thinking to send that pervert to her motel room? Was the business more important than her life?

  Shaking off her thoughts, Alex plucked the hat from her head and tossed it on the bed. “I should get Taylor up and make her some breakfast.”

  “It’s Saturday. Let her sleep.”

  Giggles came from Taylor’s room, then a soft woof. Alex smiled. “Sounds like she’s already awake.”

  <>

  Vinnie called the accountant who took care of the books for the business. “I know it’s Saturday, but I want to talk to you about the business.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can you send me the latest profit and loss statements and anything else you think I need to know?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like when is the last time we spent money on new equipment.”

  “Not since before you retired.”

  “But there’s still an account for that purpose, right?”

  “The account is there, but it’s nearly empty.”

  “So where’s that money going?”

  “Uh… You might want to talk with Mario and Antonio.”

  “Why?”

  “Vinnie, I don’t make the decisions on how to spend the company’s money.”

  So Alexandra was right. The boys were padding their own pockets and letting the business go to hell. “Can you fax me copies of the last P & L statements?” He’d go into the office and look through the books himself, but they’d put everything on the computer, and he didn’t know how to work the damn thing.

  “You’ll have it within the hour.”

  “Okay, thanks. One more thing. Don’t mention this to the boys.”

  Forty minutes later, the fax machine hummed in his home office. Vinnie pulled the stack of papers off the machine and sat behind his desk. Shoving his reading glasses on his nose, he reviewed the documents and swore. The trucking company lost money so fast they might as well close the doors, the food distribution business spent a lot of money on computer consultants because they hadn’t updated the computers in so long, and cannery production was down, but repair costs were unbelievably high. And yet, the boys had spent all the money he’d systematically put away to replace equipment as it wore out.

  “Two sons. I have two sons, and neither one is capable of running anything.”

  <>

  Charlie was working on his house when he heard Andy call, “Charlie?”

  “I’m in the attic. Middle bedroom.”

  Andy climbed the ladder and glanced around. “I didn’t realize the attic was this big.”

  “Big enough for a couple bedrooms and bathroom?”

  “Sure, but you’ll lose floor space downstairs when the stairs goes in.”

  “Okay. I’d rather have the bedrooms upstairs. Maybe we can use one of the bedrooms downstairs for a
study and the other small one for the staircase and a new laundry. Get it out of the basement.”

  Andy nodded. “Did you ask your ghost if that was all right with him?”

  “It’s my house.”

  “Yes, it’s your house, but he probably thinks it’s still his. And he seems to have squatters’ rights.”

  Billy called up the stairs. “You don’t want to live with a pissed-off ghost.”

  Charlie had worked around the trunk with the music box sitting on top. When Andy reached for it, he said, “Leave that one for last.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone set the music box to playing last night, and it wasn’t me.”

  Andy grinned. “I thought you didn’t believe in all that woo-woo stuff.”

  “Yeah, well, a guy can change his mind.” Especially at midnight, when he was alone in a haunted house.

  It took over an hour to move all the contents of the attic down to the bedroom below. All they had left was the trunk with the music box on top. Charlie stared at the trunk while Andy walked around with a tape measure, making notes on a small pad of paper he kept in his pocket.

  “Master in the front,” said Andy. “Bathrooms in the middle, where we can extend the plumbing from the kitchen and bathroom downstairs, and if we lift the roof in back, we can get two more good sized bedrooms in.”

  “I can’t afford all that.”

  Propping his hands on his hips, Andy said, “Okay, why don’t we do it in stages? We’ll raise the roof in back and rough in the plumbing, then you can live downstairs and expand later on without worrying about the plumbing or roof.”

  That made sense to Charlie. He didn’t want to mess with the roof more than once.

  “I have a better idea,” said Billy. “Why don’t we hire a contractor and get it all done at once. I’ll foot the bill and Charlie can pay me back as he can afford it.”

  Charlie propped his hands on his hips. “What would that cost?”

  “I’ll get the plans drawn up,” said Andy. “Then I’ll work up an estimate of the cost.”

  “I wonder what Pop would think,” Charlie said mostly to himself.

  “He’d be pleased,” said Billy. “Pop loved this old house. He and Grandma spent most of their married life here.”

  Dad came in calling, “Charlie, where are you?”

  “Middle bedroom,” Billy called back.

  Donovan walked into the bedroom that had once been his. It was stacked full of old furniture and boxes and trunks, and the ladder to the attic was pulled down.

  Charlie handed a music box down to Billy, then the boys brought down a musty-smelling trunk.

  “This is it,” said Andy. “There’s nothing else up there but spider webs and dust bunnies.”

  Donovan climbed the ladder far enough to look around. “Pop talked about turning the attic into more rooms, but we never had the money to do it. And we couldn’t figure out where to put the stairwell.”

  Charlie pushed the ladder back in place and looked around at the stack of stuff. “It’ll take me a month to go through all this junk.”

  Andy pried open the lid to the trunk. “What’s this?”

  Billy leaned over and picked up a framed picture of a toddler wearing a little white sailor suit. “I thought they didn’t have any family.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” said Charlie.

  Donovan picked up a blue baby blanket, revealing a stack of pictures and neatly folded baby clothes.

  Andy rubbed his arms. “Did someone open a window?”

  “That’s probably John Garrett,” said Charlie. “Is this your baby, John?”

  The music box started playing Rock-a-Bye Baby, and Donovan’s skin crawled. Charlie didn’t need this kind of trouble now. He had a child of his own to worry about. Although Taylor was a welcome addition to the family, he wished his son had found a different woman to have his children. Nothing good had ever come out of the Porcini family.

  He felt sorry for Alexandra, but he wished Hannah hadn’t invited Vinnie’s daughter to stay with them.

  The men worked until lunch. Charlie’s mother brought sandwiches and cold drinks. They sat in the dining room and talked about all the work that needed to be done before Charlie could move in.

  Instead of buying the brick bungalow that needed so much work, he should have bought a house in move-in condition. But that would have taken more money than he had, and he didn’t want to have to borrow money. So much for that idea. He’d end up owing somebody before he finished with the renovations. Then he’d have to buy furniture.

  “What made me think I could afford my own house?”

  Mom passed him another sandwich. “I thought you paid cash for Pop’s house.”

  “I did, but the work is going to cost money. A lot of money. I might actually have to find a real job.”

  Mom smiled. “Charlie, unless they’re independently wealthy, most people have to work to pay their bills, especially if they have a family. You have a daughter to think about now.”

  Yes, he had a daughter. Would Alex expect him to pay child support? No, not when he had custody. Maybe she should pay him child support.

  Did he need to see an attorney?

  Andy polished off his sandwich. “You have your degree now, so you don’t have to farm.”

  “I like farming. In a good year I do all right.” Charlie cocked his head. “Do you have another use for the land?”

  “Not now. One of these years, I may want to divide the land into ten-acre parcels and build farm houses for people like me who don’t want to live in the city or the burbs. But not now. My next project is building the inn and maybe a restaurant overlooking the river.”

  Charlie nodded. As a single guy, he liked living in the city. If he wanted female company, the singles bars were a short drive away. Living in the country was fine for a married man, but for him, it was too damn lonely. Listening to the crickets and cicadas every night and going without sex could drive a guy crazy.

  The attack had left Alex looking more like a battered wife than a beautiful young woman. The swelling was nearly gone and the bruises were fading. Once her hair grew out enough to get a decent haircut, she’d look a whole lot better. The scars would fade over time, although she’d never look exactly like she had before.

  No matter what she looked like, he didn’t intend to have sex with her again. She’d chosen her family over him once, and he couldn’t trust her not to do it again.

  If not for Taylor, he’d purge himself of Alexandra Porcini like she’d purged herself of him seven years ago.

  Chapter Eight

  While Taylor played in her bedroom with Wilma, Alex sat on her bed and called her mother. “What’s going on with you and Papa?”

  “We’re getting a divorce. He’s giving me until his birthday to move out of the house. I found a small condo to live in. It’s only one bedroom, but it’s nice. I’m taking the furniture from my bedroom and sitting room. He said he’d give me a monthly allowance until the divorce is final, then I’ll get the lump sum specified in the pre nup agreement.”

  “I’m sorry things turned out this way, Mother.”

  “So am I. I thought we could make it to the finish line, but maybe this is for the best. We’ve been together for nearly thirty years, and neither of us has been happy in a long time.”

  To the finish line. Mother had hoped to outlive Papa. He was much older, and she hadn’t counted on him being around this long. The past few years, they’d been living separate lives, which was better than the bickering Alex had grown up hearing. If Mother hadn’t been pregnant with Alex, they probably wouldn’t have married in the first place, and if Papa was young enough to find himself another woman, they wouldn’t have stayed married this long.

  “How are you feeling, Alexandra?”

  “Better every day. The swelling is nearly gone. The bruises look awful, I’ll have scars on my face, and my hair is a chopped up mess, but I’ll be all right. Charlie’s sisters-in
-law sent over some hats.”

  “That was nice of them. Perhaps Maurice can do something with your hair.”

  “I made an appointment to see him Friday morning. I can’t go any sooner because I have to get my stitches out and let my scalp heal first.”

  “What about plastic surgery?”

  “I’ll look into it after I heal.”

  “Are you moving back home? Your father hates that you’re living there.”

  “I know.” But Alex felt safer in Donovan Kane’s home than in her father’s mansion, where Papa could interfere in her life and Mario could come by to yell at her. Yet living alone with Taylor was out of the question until they caught Scott.

  “Taylor loves it here. She likes to play with Charlie’s collie.”

  Mother huffed, “Surely you’re not letting that child play with a dog.”

  Alex smiled. Mother was bitten by a dog when she was a little girl and had hated dogs since then. Taylor loved Wilma, and the dog was so gentle with her. “Mother, what are we doing about Papa’s birthday?”

  “Aunt Gina and Sophia are cooking a traditional Italian feast at the mansion on Friday evening. I won’t be there, but everyone else is expected to attend, including you and Taylor.”

  Yes, she would be expected to attend, but what would Charlie think about her taking Taylor back into that house? Still, she wanted to show Papa and her brothers what they’d done to her by sending Scott to her motel room. She wanted them to see her scarred face and ugly hair – the aftermath of a brutal attack.

  “Will you go, Alexandra?”

  “Maybe… probably. I’m not sure yet.”

  “He’ll be upset if you don’t show up.”

  “I know.” Papa was already upset with her. If she didn’t attend his birthday dinner, he’d be livid.

  Alex ended her phone call without offering to help her mother move. She didn’t have the energy to help anyone do anything right now. They’d given her a unit of blood in the hospital, but she was still so tired. At least her parents had agreed to divorce and get it over with, and they’d agreed on a settlement. Although Mother wasn’t happy about moving out of the home she’d lived in for the past thirty years, she’d never have to work to support herself. She could do whatever she wanted and see anyone she wished without Papa complaining or interfering.