“They go back as far as the 1920s.” Kowalski tapped a yellowed newspaper clipping brittle with age.
“As interesting as this all is, we still haven’t found the lady of the house. Come on, back to work.” Baker hiked up his utility belt as he headed out.
“I’ve already checked the top floor.”
“What about the other tower?” Baker asked.
“There’s no way a little old lady could have made that climb.”
Baker controlled the urge to slap him upside the head; he always found an excuse to do less work. “Did it occur to you that perhaps the woman had a heart attack on her way up?”
Kowalski shook his head.
“Then I suggest we check it out.” Baker followed the rookie to the servants’ floor and turned right where the winding staircase began, positioned above the front door down below. He let the kid go first and watched as his long legs ate up the stairs as easily as a stroll through the park.
Baker made it only about a third of the way before he had to stop, wheezing like a smoker with a two-pack a day habit. He hated to admit the kid was right; no way had old Vera made this climb. While working on catching his breath, he decided to just wait there for the kid. A couple of minutes later he heard the rookie shout.
“What?” Baker yelled back.
“Found her!”
Son of a bitch. “On my way!”
Baker grabbed the railing and began pulling himself along. By the time he got to the top, he thought he’d have a heart attack. He leaned against the cool glass of the nearest window, huffing and puffing, praying he didn’t pass out and humiliate himself in front of this young buck.
He opened his eyes and noticed the reflection on the glass and turned toward the room. “Holy shit.” His hand flew up, covering his nose and mouth.
“Looks like she was able to make the hike after all.” Half of the rookie’s face was covered by his undershirt.
The bloated, decomposing corpse of a woman hung from the center rafter. A puddle of bodily fluids lay beneath. Flies buzzed, landing on every surface. Not only had the maggots made her face unrecognizable, but her skin crawled underneath like little aliens were trying to escape. At this point, no one could truly identify her.
Her broken neck had stretched abnormally long from the weight of her body. Baker plastered his back against the glass wall. This was a disaster waiting to happen. Any minute now her skin would give way. Her head would rip from the body, plummeting all the way to the ground where it would dissolve into a pile like melted wax splashing shit in all directions. He glued his feet in place, the exit a mere step away.
A slip of paper was pinned to the front of her dress.
“Can you read the note?”
“Give me a second.” The rookie squinted. “Okay, here we go.” The shirt covering his mouth muffled his words. “It says, I’m sorry. It wasn’t me. It was Him.”
That’s when it hit Baker. There’s no way this woman had hung herself. The only item in the tower was a circular seat some twenty feet below. He let his gaze wander out the window, focusing on the setting sun as it floated on the sea.
It was surrounded by the most beautiful array of colors as its rays pierced the clouds reaching toward heaven. The irony of these contrasting scenes was not lost on him.
“How the hell did she get up there?” Kowalski broke through his thoughts. “There’s no chair or stool.”
Baker didn’t bother looking back. “She would have needed a ladder.” Just the top of the sun was still visible.
“I don’t see one of those either.”
When the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Baker turned to leave. “I’d say she had help.”
Kowalski gasped. “You think she was murdered?”
Baker made his way slowly down the stairs. “Maybe that’s the Him she’s referring to.”
He heard Kowalski behind him. “But why would a killer stage a suicide and then pin a note to the victim saying she didn’t do it? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Baker wished the rookie would just shut up. “You got me there, kid.” The sadness he felt penetrated his bones. “It’s a mystery for sure.”
TWO
Two Years Later
Kansas City, Kansas
Brandon Barnett had worried the entire flight how he was going to break the news to his wife. He’d been so excited by his new promotion that he didn’t think to research real estate in Southern California. Even after selling their house in Prairie Village, they couldn’t afford to buy a home anywhere safe enough to raise a family.
Being District Manager of Sales from Los Angeles down to the Mexican border, naturally he wanted to find a place somewhere in the middle. But Orange County was too rich for his wallet; an apartment would have to do. He felt like such a failure. He probably should have talked to Alyssa before he accepted the job. Not that she would have said no, but she might have suggested they do a little research before negotiating his pay.
Instead he’d let those dollar signs cloud his judgment. He thought they’d be rich, but instead it was just a cost of living hike. Before he was even out of the airport shuttle van, Alyssa was running across the grass with a broad smile. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He had no choice but to drop his bags and grab her.
“Whoa. What’s this?” He chuckled.
“I missed you. You’ve been gone almost two weeks!” She peppered his face with kisses.
“I missed you too. How’s the packing going?”
“It’s going.” More kisses.
“Any bites on the house yet?”
“Maybe a nibble.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing serious. They offered twenty thousand less than the asking price.”
Brandon cringed inwardly. “We’ll wait for a more serious buyer.”
“That’s what I told Patty. But she said, you do know the market is soft right now? So I pointed out all of your wonderful upgrades.”
Brandon eased her down and picked up his luggage. “And what did Patty say to that?” He couldn’t help but smile; her sunny disposition was infectious.
Alyssa made a raspberry sound. “She said even with your renovations.”
“Well maybe we should look for another real estate agent.”
They entered the house and Brandon set down his bags before he shut the door. Alyssa grabbed his hand and dragged him into the living room, pulling him down onto the sofa. She climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tell me all about California. Did you find us a wonderful house?”
“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we shouldn’t buy a house right away. I mean, we’ve lived in Kansas our whole lives. We don’t know California at all. What if we got stuck in a bad neighborhood? Buying a house is a really big commitment that should be thought out.” He watched her face fall and felt like crap.
“I’m sure you’re right.” She crawled off him. “I need to check on dinner. The mail is by the door.” She left the room without turning back, surely to hide her disappointment.
Brandon snatched the mail on his way to the master bedroom. He thought he might take a shower before dinner. He skimmed through the bills, making note of which ones to pay right away when a certified letter caught his eye. It was from the offices of Mapleton, Thorpe and Associates. It had a San Diego address. He ripped open the envelope and began to read.
Dear Mr. Barnett,
I hope this letter finds you well. It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that Miss Vera MacDougall has passed and you have inherited her estate. Please contact us at your earliest convenience. It is imperative you sign all the legal documents before we can transfer the estate into your name.
My condolences,
Thomas Everly Maplewood, ESQ.
“Oh my God. Alyssa!” Brandon ran to the kitchen, waving the letter.
She stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She dropped the spoon and ran over.
“T
ake the offer. We’re rich!” he shouted.
“What offer?”
“On the house.”
“Are you nuts? And lose twenty thousand?”
“It doesn’t matter. We just inherited an estate in California!” He handed her the letter. “Look.”
Once she was through reading it, she glanced up. “Do you even know this Vera MacDougall? I don’t remember you mentioning her.”
“She’s my third cousin on my mother’s side of the family. I remember hearing stories about the place from my grandmother. She used to spend her summers there. I’ve seen the pictures from her scrapbook. It’s a giant mansion with beautiful gardens. Best of all it overlooks the Pacific Ocean!”
Alyssa’s brows knit.
“What?”
Alyssa gently placed her hand on his cheek. “Well, honey, how can we afford the upkeep on such a place?”
“We have the money the company is giving us for moving expenses and the money from the sale of this house. Plus, he said the entire estate is mine. I’m sure that comes with some sort of trust for upkeep.”
“It had better, because if it’s as big as you say, we won’t be able to afford the electricity bill,” she countered.
“We won’t need heat or air conditioning. It doesn’t snow in San Diego and the ocean breeze will keep it cool in summer.” Her expression didn’t change. “Fine. I promise if it’s too much of a burden, we can sell. I bet it’s worth a fortune. Come on, babe, what do you say?”
The timer on the stove dinged and Alyssa handed the letter back. She opened the oven and pulled out the meatloaf. “There’s just something not right about this.”
“What are you talking about? First my promotion and now an inheritance? Our lives are changing for the better. California sunshine, beaches—”
“Earthquakes.”
“We get tornadoes in Kansas. I don’t get it. You were all excited about moving to Southern California before.”
Alyssa crossed the kitchen and took his hand. “I’m thrilled about your promotion. You deserve it. You’ve been working your tail off for that company for over ten years and it’s about time someone noticed. I’d move with you to Timbuktu if that’s where you were transferred.”
“But?”
Alyssa gazed up at him. “You have a lot of cousins on your mother’s side of the family. How did the house just magically fall into our hands?”
“Luck. Fate!”
“I’m sorry, honey, I don’t mean to be a buzz kill.” Alyssa couldn’t explain the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was it just the old axiom, that if something seems too good to be true, it usually was? Or was it really a warning of impending disaster that had every nerve in her body on high alert?
Brandon had a habit of jumping first and asking questions later. His impetuousness was one thing that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. But heading out of town for a romantic weekend on a moment’s notice was one thing.
Major life decisions were another.
She grabbed his arms. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed. I mean, what if we get there and find out the whole thing was just one big mistake?”
“I’ll call the lawyer first thing in the morning.”
*
Two weeks later, Alyssa and Brandon Barnett pulled up in front of the offices of Mapleton, Thorpe and Associates in downtown San Diego. The moment Brandon announced who they were, the receptionist ushered them straight back to Thomas Mapleton’s office and made the introductions.
Mr. Mapleton had a shock of white hair and wore a striking gray pinstriped suit with an ice blue tie that matched his eyes. Alyssa found the man very pleasant, but couldn’t quite guess his age. Although his face was barely lined, he had the grace and sophistication of a much older man. He shook her hand first, and then turned toward Brandon.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Please sit. Both of you. Can I get you some coffee or a soda?” He looked at each separately, but they politely declined.
“Of course, right down to business. I just have a few papers for you to sign and you can be on your way.” He pushed a stack of paperwork toward Brandon and handed him a pen.
The man appeared nervous. Alyssa glanced at Brandon to see if he’d noticed, but he was busy reading the documents.
“Mr. Mapleton, I have a couple of questions,” Alyssa said.
The man appeared startled. “I’m sorry, but I’m really pressed for time. I expected you around four and here it is nearly six-thirty.”
“I apologize, it’s just that we had no idea there would be so much traffic,” Alyssa explained.
Mr. Mapleton made no comment.
“And we had a bit of trouble with the U-Haul going through the mountains. I swear that thing is slower than molasses in January.” She smiled, hoping he would too.
Instead his brows rose. “You brought a moving van?”
“How else do you suppose we transport our belongings? I mean, I’m sure this house has furniture, but there were some pieces I couldn’t live without.”
The man’s Adam’s apple jumped when he swallowed.
Alyssa looked to Brandon, but he was lost in his own world.
“Is there something wrong, Mr. Mapleton?”
“Wrong? My heavens, whatever do you mean, young lady? Nothing’s wrong.” A bead of sweat trickled down from his hairline.
“This says she passed in October, two years ago,” Brandon said under his breath.
That bad feeling was back and this time Alyssa couldn’t ignore it. “Mr. Mapleton, I was wondering. My husband has never met this Vera MacDougall. How did he get mentioned in her will?”
“Will?” The man’s chuckle appeared forced. “Oh, there was no will.”
“Then how did Brandon get named beneficiary? He has a lot of cousins who would surely be ahead of him on the family tree.”
The man stared at Brandon. “You almost done there, Mr. Barnett? I really must go.”
“Almost.” Brandon said without looking up. “There’s just a lot of papers here that need to be signed and I can’t seem to understand all of them. Maybe you could help?”
The lawyer jumped out of his chair and sidled up to Brandon. “Okay. This one just says that you are accepting the house, the grounds and everything there within.” He tapped the bottom of the page. “Sign there.” He started flipping through the pages. “Sign there. And there. And there.”
“Maybe we should have a lawyer read through this first,” Alyssa said quickly before Brandon signed the rest of their lives away.
“No need. I’m a lawyer.” He pointed to another yellow tab. “Sign there.”
“Brandon, stop!” For the first time since they’d entered the office her husband looked at her. “What?”
“Don’t sign anything else until we’ve read it.” He cocked his head. “Together,” she finished.
“Oh, sure, babe.” Brandon set the pen down. “Can we take this with us and read it? We can have it back to you tomorrow.”
“I won’t be here.” Mr. Mapleton glanced at his watch. “I’m going out of town.”
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. There’s been a-a-a family emergency.”
Brandon frowned. “I’m very sorry to hear it.”
Alyssa grabbed her husband’s arm. “Surely we can return these papers to someone else in the office then.”
“Only I have the key,” the man all but shouted.
Alyssa stood. “Then maybe we should just come back at another time. I’m sorry we wasted your time. Brandon?”
“Alyssa, I’m almost done.”
“That’s right. Just one more signature.” Mapleton snatched the packet and whipped to the last page. “There you go.”
Much to Alyssa’s displeasure, Brandon signed it.
Mapleton pulled the papers away from Brandon just as he finished his name. He went around his desk and handed over a large manila envelope. “There you go. Everything you need is
inside. The deed. All the keys. Now I’m sorry, but I really must go.” He ushered them out the door.
Alyssa spun around. “You never answered my question, Mr. Mapleton. Why did Brandon inherit this estate over everyone else?”
The door closed in her face, and she heard the lock slide into place.
THREE
Brandon dragged Alyssa out of the building and into the cab of the truck. “Calm down, honey. Their loss is our gain.”
Alyssa stared at her husband. “You can’t be serious. There is obviously something terribly wrong going on here, the way that man pushed you to sign all that paperwork without reading it first. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I did not sign everything without reading it. From what I saw it was pretty much above board.”
“That’s not good enough when you’re signing legal documents, for Christ’s sake. You even said yourself that the woman died two years ago in October. The house has been vacant all that time. And let’s not forget the part where he slammed the door in our face rather than answer one simple question. That says something right there.”
Brandon started the engine. “You’re exaggerating.” He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here, put this address into your phone and let’s find out where we’re going.”
Alyssa took it and typed the address into Google Maps. No use arguing about it now; it was time to find out just what they’d gotten themselves into. She decided to try and relax, so she took in everything she could about her new surroundings. She could see the Pacific Ocean from the freeway.
She yearned to kick off her shoes and wiggle her toes in the sand. They drove under a high bridge where vines dangled and lush plants grew on either side of the busy highway. It was simply beautiful. From the map they didn’t have far to go before they reached their exit.
There were so many cars that the freeway resembled a parking lot. She’d heard a lot of things about California, earthquakes, that the sun always shined, and everyone here was a vegetarian who ate tofu, but not once had anyone mentioned the traffic.
When they finally exited the freeway, they turned west and were immediately stopped by a red light. The truck idled at the top of the hill, jostling Alyssa around so much she wished she’d worn a better bra, and the smell of diesel gave her a headache. She’d been staring at the signal impatiently, thinking it would never change when she lowered her gaze and grabbed Brandon’s hand. He glanced her way with a smile.
Spirits 04-Spirits of Seacliff Manor Page 2