"I'll ask Mr. Watkin about the locket when I see him next," Katie said.
"That boy creeps me out," Mel said.
"Tell me about him. Why exactly did he want to sell this place? How did it get so run down?"
"Well, you know, there's all kinds of rumors and it's hard to separate fact from fiction. All I can tell you is what I heard..."
"Just start me from the beginning," Katie said, nudging her friend along. Mel had a bad habit of going all over the place with her stories. Getting her focused could be tricky at times.
"Believe it or not, he was apparently a good looking young man many years ago. A drummer in a band, I think. Not professional, but they played around town. He met a woman named Petula Blackstone and they got married. You know, as in the Blackstone family that was murdered here? Yeah. She was a niece or something.
"Word had it that she was wealthy. Some say she wasn't. I think she had cash but was very frugal. They stretched out their dollars, know what I mean?"
Katie nodded. Mel was a good story teller, and her eyes were focused on the fireplace mantle as she spoke.
"So...they have a kid. A girl. A pretty thing--I've seen old pictures--and they are living the American dream. Mom is at home, kid is in school and Chris is working at a pen factory, I think. Something to do with pens, anyway.
"One day the daughter dies. Killed in a car wreck. No drugs. No alcohol. Just one of those tragic things that happen.
"Good God. How awful!" Katie said.
"Tell me about it. That would mess you up, for sure. And apparently it did. Mom became a recluse in her home. She used to attend church regularly, the whole nine yards.
"Messed up Chris too. He continued to show up to work and around town getting groceries and stuff, but everyone said he became a ghost. His old band got together for some reunion and they tried to get him to play but he ignored them. Poor guy."
"But that wouldn't creep people out," Katie said. "That's just tragic, not creep-factor stuff--"
"Oh, just wait. I'm getting to the creep now," Mel said. She was leaning forward on her chair, and lowered her voice. "Here's where the weird stuff starts happening."
Katie leaned in to listen.
"Petula had a fall here at the house. Depending on who you talk to, it was outside or inside. All I know was it was stairs. Broke her hip badly, was in the hospital for a short time and then back here to recover.
"Chris was even more distraught and did everything he could to make her comfortable. She refused nurses coming to see her and doctors from following up. She was a miserable woman from what everyone says. Stubborn.
"He goes to the effort of putting a bed in here--the library--because she can't do stairs. You know, close to the kitchen and that bathroom around the corner. She doesn't like it one bit and is making life miserable for everyone, including Chris. She needs to be supervised for everything, that's how bad her hip was.
"So, one day Chris is out in the front yard. He sees a light on upstairs, which is weird, so he goes to check..." Mel paused to take a sip of her coffee.
"Go on, for God's sake. Don't leave me hanging!" Katie said, slightly irritated.
"Petula isn't in her bed. She's not in the kitchen. He hears water running. She somehow managed to get upstairs and was trying to take a bath--"
"He heard the water running?"
"Yes, it's running and he's upset. She's supposed to get help with stuff like that. So, he runs upstairs angry and knocks on the door. It's closed, obviously, but she doesn't answer. He opens the door and finds her...dead...with the water running--"
"Dead? IN the tub or--"
"IN the tub. Apparently she was getting in, slipped and fell backward. Banged her head against the wall and drowned--"
"Oh my God! That's horrible."
"No. That's not the worst of it. Police do an investigation and for a short time Chris was a suspect in her death."
"Wha... Huh? Why? I don't get that--"
"Well, the autopsy initially said she drowned--and she did--but the blow to the head was ultimately what killed her. It took a while, but they proved somehow that she died by accident."
"Can you imagine? Being accused of killing your spouse? Jeez. Your wife dies tragically and then you are suspected of killing her? That's pathetic."
"Yeah, the police took a beating over that too. The Sheriff resigned not long after. He sucked. I'm guessing Chris felt guilty over it, even though it wasn't his fault. He lived here for several years, but rumors spread of his strange behavior.
"A guy I know, David, used to deliver the paper to him. When he'd collect the cash... Gosh...this is going wayyyy back... They don't do that anymore...remember the tabs and how they used to collect..."
"Focus, Mel, focus," Katie said. She was irritated.
"David would come to the door and he says that all the furniture was covered in white cloths. Didn't like coming too late as he was spooked out by the house at night. Only a bedroom light would be on and maybe the kitchen light. Freaky."
Katie let it sink in for a moment. "I'll say. But then again, maybe he just couldn't bear to be in the library where her bed was."
"True enough. But what would be horrible for me is to use the bathroom she died in. I couldn't do it," Mel said. "But you've got to expect a house that's this old would have a number of tragedies or deaths over the years, they all do at some point, or--"
"Stop. What? How many deaths are we talking about here?" Katie's voice was hollow. She felt like she was the last person in the United States to be learning something about the house.
Mel paused awkwardly. "Well, as I said, old homes, you know, have a lot of history to--"
"Just need a number, Mel. One, two...how many?"
Mel shifted in her chair and blurted out, "Five. Maybe six."
Katie sat stunned for a moment, but flashed back to her history class in school. She recalled how most people used to die at home. Viewings would take place in the front room. That's not so bad, she thought to herself. She wasn't prepared for what Mel said next.
"Murdered. Late 1940s. Or around that time. Maybe the 1950's. Blackstone wiped out his whole family and just up and disappeared. Some think that--"
"Slow the hell down! Murdered...here? In THIS house? IN? IN this house?"
Sure, Big John had told her Blackstone went cuckoo and killed his family, but she just assumed it was elsewhere. Good God, she thought.
Mel's face was blank. She felt a bit bad that her best friend was getting upset about it, but she needed to hear it. It was about to get worse.
"Where did the murders take place?" Katie demanded. She got up and paced for a few seconds and then walked into the kitchen to get the coffee pot.
"Um. Well. I don't know for sure, but I understand he murdered all his family in various parts of the house and piled them--"
"Piled them? Jesus! How much worse can this get? And why the hell didn't you tell me about this?" Katie was getting pretty upset.
"Calm down, chickie. First, you're not going to be living here, this is a flipper. The rumors of it being haunted aren't being helped by the fact it looks like a haunted house. These guys are going to have the outside sparkling in no time and it'll sell."
Katie paused. Mel was right. Sober up, have some more caffeine and get focused. "What do you mean, piled up?" she asked calmly.
"Well, we know he killed them all one by one. We know that he stacked them neatly in the library--"
"Stacked them?"
"Well, I don't know. Probably lined them up. Here. In the library."
"What happened to him?"
"That's the strange part. He vanished. Not a single trace was ever found of him. No sightings, nothing. Money left in the bank, belongings mostly intact. Some suspect he killed himself in the forest behind here, but his body has never been found."
"Who were the family members?"
"He shot his wife in the kitchen, killed his three kids and then his mother who lived in the attic, which was con
verted to a bedroom."
"Good God. So that's..." Katie was counting on her fingers, "six deaths that we know of in this house."
"Yep. And you wonder why kids say it’s a haunted house?" Mel asked.
Haunted house, indeed. When Katie returned her coffee mug back to the kitchen sink, she froze. There, between the coffee maker and the sink was the missing flashlight, standing bold and tall.
It was not there before… Katie was certain of it.
Chapter 6
Katie pulled up the covers, moved around until she found that perfect comfortable spot, and stared up at the ceiling with a smile on her face. What a fantastic day today was, she thought to herself.
All of the wallpaper--every last ounce of it--was completely ripped down from the library. It had come down a lot faster and easier than she'd thought, and she was very happy to have had Mel's help with it all.
The detached bookcases were completely emptied and put in boxes. The built-in bookcases were ready to be prepped and re-stained.
And what fun they'd had today. Mel had gone out of her way to tease the young hottie with her denim shirt unbuttoned dangerously low. Such a nasty girl, and she knows it. Such fun.
They'd had a late night in town at a popular sushi bar to celebrate all their efforts. Followed by two more bottles of wine.
Katie could hear Mel already snoring next door. Too bad she has to leave in the morning. What a great day.
No sooner did Katie turn off the light than she fell asleep. And deep asleep, too.
Katie awoke with a start. She could faintly hear the urgent call of a voice--a young voice--of a boy? Hard to tell, but she could sense the urgency.
"Adele, Adele! Come on!" the voice called.
Katie was lying face up in the bed. She snapped her head to the right and looked out the window. The curtains were wide open, as was the window. It was a bright moonlit night.
It was happening again. Déjà vu.
She jumped out of bed. Barefoot, she rushed down the hall, turned down the stairs and ran out the front door.
"Adele, come on!" the voice beckoned.
"Who are you? Who is Adele?" Katie called out. There was no answer.
"Come on!"
The moon hung behind the willow tree, lighting it up from the back. Not in a scary way, but in a beautiful way. The moon was so bright she could see the green leaves on the tree. And that's where the voice seemed to be calling from. It sounded like a young boy.
Fearlessly Katie walked across the grass in her bare feet. The grass was cold and damp. She made it to the tree like she had before. As she got closer, she realized she had forgotten her flashlight. Still, she was absolutely unafraid this time.
Slowly she turned back towards the house and looked. This time the light in the house was much brighter and more of an orange color. The bedroom was the brightest.
Katie took a deep breath and held it, and right on cue she saw a shadow and heard a terrible scream. This time Katie was prepared and made every effort to try to witness everything in a detached manner. She wanted to record every detail in her mind.
Startled, she let out the breath that she was holding when she felt her wrist being grabbed. Slowly she looked down and noticed the same root sticking out from the ground. This time it was grasping her wrist gently. It didn't tug and it didn't pull. It had more leads on it, which made its grasp more gentle to her wrist. Katie thought to herself, I'm not afraid. And she had no desire to hit the branch. In fact, it gave her comfort.
More screams. More bloodcurdling sounds of people dying. Loud noises, probably gunshots.
"Run," the boy's voice said.
But I want to go inside, Katie thought.
"No... Run!"
Katie snapped bolt upright in her bed. She glanced at the window. The blinds were drawn shut. She took a breath and reached over to her phone. Sure enough, 4:45 AM.
I'm getting tired of this, she thought to herself.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
"Oh, for freak's sakes!" she said in a whispered shout. Katie was getting tired of all the shenanigans. The nightmares, the rats, and frankly even the idea of being in a house of murder.
Scratch, scratch, scratch. The rhythm was getting faster and more furious. Katie could hear Mel snoring in the next room and was envious--as well as a bit angry--that she could sleep through anything.
Maybe a quick run through the upstairs will scare the bejesus out of the rats for a while, she thought.
Katie jumped out of her bed, put on pants and slipped on her running shoes, terrified at the thought of a rat running up her leg. She shuddered at the thought. But the anger was stronger than the fear.
She stormed down the hallway and up the attic stairs with the flashlight in her right hand. In one motion, she slammed the door handle with her left hand, flung the door open and slammed the switch, which was immediately to the side of the door.
The sudden brightness stunned her. Clearly didn't think that one out too well, she thought. Forcing her blind eyes more open she got another surprise: nothing.
There were no rats fleeing. No scurrying away. Nothing but silence. She panned the room from left to right. Nothing. A big room and a dusty floor...
Katie screamed. "Oh my God!" She turned and bolted down the stairs, banging her shoulder against the wood paneling. Both she and Mel let out a simultaneous scream as they nearly collided in the hall.
Mel had been heading to the bathroom when she heard the first scream and was rushing to head up to the attic when they nearly collided, effectively scaring the hell out of each other.
"What the hell is going on?" Mel demanded. She took a defensive stance towards the staircase in case someone--or something--was chasing her friend.
Katie stumbled for words. Sounds came out, but she wasn't making any sense. Katie was hysterical.
Mel was still suspicious of what she saw and kept a defensive stance. "Calm down. Calm down, spit it out. What's going on?"
Katie's eyes were wild. She was sweating and shaking. "Can you hear the scratching? Can you hear the rats upstairs? The rats right above your room, for God's sake?
"Calm down. You hate rats. Why the hell did you go upstairs?"
"Because I'm sick and tired of the nightmares, and I'm sick and tired of the rats. Big John set some traps for me while I was in the yard working. Go see for yourself--"
"No way. I'm not going up there were the rats are," Mel said.
"They aren't rats. There's nothing there. Go on, take a look at the center of the floor."
"I'm chickenshit. Let's go up together, then."
A strange disposition came over Katie. It was like she had gone past her breaking point. She was no longer shaking in fear; she seemed quite happy to go upstairs now. She led the way with Mel one step behind her. Katie got to the door and stood in the doorway. "Take a look..."
"You're gonna have to move out of the way if you want me to see inside," Mel said.
Katie stepped aside and Mel took a good look around. She scanned the room from left to right and then top to bottom. "Ummm... I don't see nothing," she said.
"Exactly. Nothing. But look on the floor."
"You mean the mousetraps? Or rattraps or whatever it is that they are?"
"Yes," Katie said. Her voice was frightfully calm. "The traps are supposed to be all around the edges of the room. Look at them," she said, pointing.
Both ladies stood side-by-side staring at the traps in the center of the room. The traps were laid out in a circle like the markings on a clock. A trap was marking twelve, two, four, six, eight, and the ten o'clock position. Perfectly laid out.
"Jesus. That's a sick joke. Did you see Big John lay the traps?" Mel asked.
"Do you really think he would do something like that?"
"Honestly? In all the years I've known him I can't see him doing something like that. He's a nice guy, and I can't recall him ever playing a joke on anybody."
The women stared at each other. "A burg
lar, do you think?" Katie asked out loud.
"No way. This is basically the 'third' floor. There's no way anyone could get up here and out without making a racket--"
"I didn't dream the scratching. I heard it. Something was making a noise up here--"
"I know. Let's calm down and check it out with Big John. Maybe...maybe he put them on the floor like that to count them, or set them, or...whatever. I dunno. The rats probably heard you coming up the stairs. They are pretty smart, you know--"
"I know!" Katie said. Frustration and exhaustion were in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you--"
"I didn't think you were snapping at me, so no apologies. Let's go downstairs. I'll whip up some scrambled eggs for us."
The women headed downstairs. Mel insisted on doing breakfast, so Katie went into the library and half-lay on the couch's arm.
Mel soon brought the eggs and a glass of juice to the library and discovered Katie sound asleep. Katie was in an awkward position, but Mel decided to leave her to get some much needed sleep.
"Hey, toots!" Mel said loudly.
Katie jumped. Her neck and arm were aching as she awkwardly struggled to sit upright. "You didn't have to scare me half to death!" she said sharply.
"Easy, bitch," Mel said. She giggled. "I called your name out five times. You were dead to the world!"
"Dead, maybe. Wow...what time is it?"
"It's noon. Big John is here."
"Where--"
Katie turned to see Big John standing at the door. He gave a big smile.
"Oh my goodness, John. I'm a mess. How are you?" she struggled to say as she tried to recover from being awoken so suddenly.
"Fixin' houses is a lot of work, missy. I'm here to install the security monitors around the house for ya."
"Hey. About that, John. Can you get me a few of those surveillance cameras? I'd like the outside ones as well as a few inside ones--"
"You don't trust us?" John said. He was joking.
"No, no. That's not it. I want to see those rats in my attic, and if someone does break in, I gotta have the footage for insurance purposes," she said. Katie was lying, but it seemed to work.
Sight Unseen Complete Series Box Set Page 4