Gnarled Hollow

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Gnarled Hollow Page 18

by Charlotte Greene


  Mark seemed surprised. “You’ve asked?”

  Lara raised her hands in what looked like exasperation. “I’ve asked lots of people about everything related to Gnarled Hollow, but no one will talk.”

  After a long, tense pause, Emily felt suddenly as if, despite her earlier caution, Lara was in fact about to answer all their questions.

  Lara looked around at each of them in turn, and then, as if satisfied they were all listening, she began. “Six months ago, when my aunt inherited this place, she and I immediately came out here to see it. I did a little research before we got here, but, as you’ve no doubt discovered yourself, I didn’t find much.

  “When we saw Gnarled Hollow for the first time, we were, of course, astounded by the whole estate. The house, the gardens, the artwork, and of course the paperwork and notebooks left behind by Margot Lewis. We knew once we saw it that, in addition to the sizeable amount of money that came with the place, we were sitting on something incredibly valuable. But, as you’ve probably found on your own, some mystery surrounded what we found here.”

  She turned to June, who raised her eyebrows. “Oh—the art, you mean? Yes. A houseful of art with no known artist.”

  Lara smiled as if she’d expected this answer. “Exactly. Except for that one.” She pointed at the Turner.

  June grinned. “A painting by a well-known artist with no known origin.”

  Lara smiled more broadly. “Yes.”

  She turned to Mark, and he smiled, obviously following her train of thought. “You also found a smaller house than you expected.”

  Lara laughed. “Much smaller. Based on the taxes paid since it was built, the house should be almost a third larger than it is.” She turned to Chris. “I know you haven’t been here as long as some of the others, but have you found anything strange regarding the gardens?”

  He hesitated. “Well, a few things. The plants are unusual for the climate here. I spoke to Mr. Wright about them on Friday a little, but he was cagey about answering my questions. He seemed to think it was normal for orange and lemon trees to grow in upstate New York.”

  “Anything else?”

  He seemed to think for a moment and then shrugged. “There’s something else, but I haven’t figured it out yet. It might have something to do with the layout of the gardens, but I need to study them more. They were laid out strangely, but I don’t know how or why.”

  Lara grinned. “And I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She turned to Jim and Emily on the sofa. “And the two of you have become code breakers, I take it?”

  Jim smiled, grimly. “Code breakers, and little else. Before the noise started today, Emily and I were talking about what we’d found so far in the journals, and it amounts to basically nothing. Lewis wrote about a fox in her garden, cleaning the house, the books she was reading, but nothing important.”

  Emily sighed. “We keep expecting something more, but so far, there’s nothing.”

  Lara leaned forward. “But isn’t that exciting in its own way? After all, why did she go to so much trouble to put her journals into a code? I mean if it is, as you say, just her day-to-day life, why bother?”

  Jim laughed. “Maybe because she was bored stiff. There’s nothing else to do up here but make silly codes.”

  Emily was about to agree with him but paused. Something of what Lara was saying made sense. “You mean, maybe something else is in the journals? Something we haven’t seen yet? Another code inside the code?”

  Lara shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t even get through the first page of the one journal I looked at, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Everything about this place seems to offer one mystery to solve, only to offer another beyond that.”

  They sat in stunned silence. Emily could see that the others, like she, were thinking the same thing.

  June spoke first. “So you tricked us into coming here.”

  Lara laughed. “We did no such thing. We hired you, June, because you’re an expert in Romantic art. We hired Jim and Emily because they study modernist American writers. Chris was an obvious pick, and Jim, after you talked up Mark, he too made a perfect fit to study the house itself.”

  “But you knew about this place,” June said, her voice rising. “You knew something strange was going on here.”

  Lara was silent for a moment. “I knew.”

  “And you said nothing about it!”

  “I didn’t.” Then Lara sighed. “What would you have thought? If I told you about the house? The little we knew at the time—doors locking on their own and reappearing by themselves. Honestly, what would you have thought?”

  “I’d have thought you were off your rocker,” Jim said. Everyone looked at him, surprised. He raised his shoulders. “What? It’s true. I wouldn’t have believed a word of it.”

  June shook her head. “It’s still not fair. You and your aunt should have given us some kind of warning.”

  Lara leaned forward, meeting June’s eyes. “We should have told you that the house is haunted? Is that what you’re saying?”

  The room was silent. Emily realized that while they’d used the word “haunted” a few times, almost in jest, all of them, including her, had avoided actually using it to explain what was happening. But really, what else explained this house? The word fit better than anything else, yet it also didn’t. She didn’t know what was happening here, but still, she wouldn’t describe it as “haunted.”

  Lara had been silently watching them, and she finally nodded. “Either you would have thought my aunt and I were crazy, or you would have believed us and refused to come.”

  “So you actually believe it? That the house is haunted?” Chris asked.

  She looked at him evenly. “Absolutely.”

  “And you invited us here knowing that it was?” June asked.

  Lara nodded. “I did.” Seeing their expressions, she held up her hands. “But I do freely admit that at the time, we didn’t think anything was…sinister here. We had no evidence of that. Just the doors closing, locking, reappearing. Nothing more than that until now.”

  “So what’s your explanation?” Mark asked. “Why is the house acting this way now?”

  Lara shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe something is different now. You’re all living here, for one thing. Maybe your energy is feeding it somehow.”

  Emily and June shared a look. They’d reached precisely the same conclusion two nights ago.

  Jim, however, laughed. “You must be kidding me.”

  Lara looked at him. “Do you have another explanation?”

  He tried to laugh again and then looked around at them. His grin died a moment later. “You believe what she’s saying?”

  June threw Emily another quick glance, clearly suggesting they keep their conclusions to themselves. “I don’t know what I believe, Jim,” she said aloud, “but I do know that what’s happening here can’t be explained. Even you would admit that.”

  He seemed about to argue and then shook his head emphatically, not saying another word. Emily watched him touch his breast pocket and remembered the little lead soldier in there. She was about to say something about it when Mark spoke again.

  “So what’s your part in all of this, Lara? You’ve obviously brought us all here to solve your little mystery. Why are you here?” His tone was calm and restrained, but Emily detected a hint of anger underneath his words.

  His question, however, didn’t affect Lara, and she also didn’t appear to find it offensive. She waited a moment before replying. “I don’t intend to stay for long. Two days, perhaps, this time anyway. I’ll come once a month. To check in on you.”

  “Are you too afraid to stay here longer?” June asked, her voice likewise dark with anger.

  Lara looked at her, apparently surprised. “Of course! Especially now that you’ve told me it’s attacking you. In fact, knowing what’s happened, I’m surprised that any of you are still here.”

  Jim rocketed to his feet, fists clenched. His face quivered with ange
r, and his mouth worked on itself as he found his voice. One hand moved to his breast pocket, and Emily saw him clutch at the lead soldier through the material of his shirt.

  “How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can manipulate us like your own personal puppets?”

  Lara didn’t react beyond meeting his eyes. “You are all, of course, free to leave any time. Especially if the house becomes too much for you. We’ve found plenty of other people with exactly your skill set, all of whom would be interested in working on the projects I’ve hired each of you to do.”

  Jim opened his mouth, but Mark was already there, suddenly next to him, and he touched his arm. Jim spun as if to hit him, and then the fight drained out of him. He relaxed and made a noise of disgust before sitting down again next to Emily.

  Everyone was quiet, Jim fuming, June and Chris staring fixedly in front of them, Mark staring at Lara. Emily tried to predict what they would do and then finally spoke to Lara.

  “So you’re here to check in?”

  Lara shrugged. “In part. My aunt is quite busy, so I’m acting as a kind of go-between in her stead. This is not to say that we think any of you would shirk your duties, but to get more timely updates.”

  “Isn’t that what the telephone was invented for?” Jim asked.

  Lara gave him a weak smile. “Perhaps, but sometimes it’s better to see things with your own eyes. If I come, you can show me what you’re working on, rather than tell me.”

  “And if we solve one of your smaller mysteries, we might also solve the other,” Mark suggested. “The house.”

  Lara smiled. “Exactly.”

  This conversation was very similar to one they’d had before, and most of Emily’s resentment with the situation died. After all, they’d already decided to do precisely what Lara was asking—figure out the things they were hired to do and, hopefully, come to understand the house. Lara was merely saying that she’d hired them to do just that. The others seemed to be realizing the same thing, but Jim still seemed mutinous.

  June spoke first. “So you want us to tell you about our projects—”

  “And fill you in about what happens and what we discover about the house,” Mark said.

  Lara smiled. “Exactly. You see, once we heard about the doors, my aunt and I knew we had to figure this place out. She wants to live here, eventually, but of course she can’t until…” She shrugged. “Well, you know. Until it’s safe, I guess. We’ve only been able to spend a single night here.”

  “Did anything happen?” June asked.

  Lara shook her head. “Not really. One of the doors closed on its own, but we both felt something. I feel it now.” She looked around the room, as if she could see it, too.

  “So you’ll tell your aunt what you see and tell her what we tell you. That’s all?” Mark asked.

  “Nearly. I also want to do an experiment or two while I’m here.”

  “What kind of experiment?”

  Lara met his gaze evenly. “I’m thinking of holding a séance.”

  Jim barked a laugh and got to his feet. “That’s it, that’s enough. I’m going to bed. The rest of you can sit around listening to this nut, but I’ve got better things to do.”

  “Wait, Jim—” June said.

  “No, June, really. I have to get out of here before I lose it. You can tell your aunt I’m grateful to be here, Lara, and that I’m planning to stay, no matter what the hell this house tries to do, but I’m staying for the work I was hired to do, nothing else. If you want to figure out what’s happening here, you’re going to have to do it without me.” He paused, staring at all of them. “And the rest of you would be wise to follow my example. If she and her aunt want to hunt ghosts, by all means, let them. I’m here to do my job.”

  He stormed out, slamming the door.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I should have put that a little more delicately,” Lara said.

  Mark shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered how you said it. Jim doesn’t want to talk about any of it, even when it happens to him.”

  She looked confused. “Why?”

  Mark shrugged. “I think he’s hoping that if he ignores what’s happening, he won’t have to face it. At least that’s my impression.”

  Emily considered this interpretation. “It’s something like that, Mark, but it’s more, too. I mean, he admits that something is going on—he’s seen it and experienced it himself now, but he doesn’t want to talk about it, either.”

  Lara nodded, slowly. “Some people are like that, I suppose. I can give him space, if you think it will help. The rest of you can fill me in if something else happens to him.” She paused. “I think it’s best for me to talk to each of you on your own. I want to get your version of what’s happening. Would you do that for me?”

  No one said anything, but no one disagreed.

  Lara smiled. “Good. I think that’s best.”

  “What about the séance?” June asked. “When are you planning to have it?”

  Lara shrugged. “I’m still doing some research about techniques. Maybe tomorrow afternoon, or maybe the day after tomorrow.”

  June looked surprised. “Not at night?”

  Lara laughed. “No, definitely not at night. Whatever’s happening is strong enough during the daytime, let alone later.”

  Emily excused herself after this, too tired to face dinner and more questions. She and June decided that, at least for tonight, they would sleep in June’s bedroom, but Emily was already halfway convinced that they could go back to her room at any time. True, things had happened in there, and kept happening, but never at night, except that weird hallucination she’d had about June kissing her. Daytime was the only time to worry about.

  She took her toiletries over to the bathroom on the men’s side and quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into her nightgown and bathrobe. Although this bathroom was in even poorer shape than the one on the women’s side of the house, she never experienced the same watchful feeling in here. Despite the peeling paint and tiny bathtub, it seemed perfectly benign.

  She was about to head to June’s bedroom but paused outside Jim’s door. She very much wanted to check in with him, if only, at the very least, to make sure he was okay. She couldn’t understand how he could be alone at such a time. She pressed her ear to the door, listening, but heard nothing. However, light was coming from beneath the door, so she felt justified in knocking.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Emily.”

  After a long pause she finally heard him cross the room, and a moment later the door opened enough for him to poke his head out.

  “What do you want?”

  She caught a distinct whiff of sour sweat and alcohol coming from him and involuntarily took a step back. His eyes were even redder than before, glazed and unfocused.

  “I wanted to check on you.” She took another step away. This was obviously a bad time to bother him.

  He laughed, bitterly. “Did that bitch Lara ask you to come here? What, are you her spy now?”

  She held her hands up and took another step away and toward the stairs. “Never mind, Jim. I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’ll leave you alone now.”

  He lurched toward her in one lunging step and seized the lapels of her robe, then dragged her closer, his face inches from hers. He shook her once, hard, making her teeth snap together, then pushed her, causing her to stumble onto the floor. She landed with a bone-jarring crash on her ass and one wrist, both hurting so much she cried out once before snapping her mouth closed. Jim stepped farther out into the hall, fists clenched, and she scooted away as quickly as she could, scrambling to get back onto her feet. He stopped a couple of feet from his doorway, and she thought she saw something flash across his angry face for a second—regret or concern—before rage replaced it once more.

  “Leave me the fuck alone,” he said, his voice quiet and low. “And tell that cunt Lara to leave me alone, too.”

  He
turned and slammed the door behind him, plunging her into darkness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  If Jim regretted what he’d done, he didn’t let on the next morning. He greeted Emily just as he always did at breakfast—briefly and with a smile. He didn’t even seem embarrassed, nor did he seem afraid she would tell the others. By the time she’d finished her buttered toast, she was fairly certain he either had no memory of the incident or he genuinely didn’t think what he’d done had been as bad as it had been. She wasn’t sure which of these options she preferred. If he’d forgotten, he’d been drinking enough to black out, and doing it on his own, which was deeply troubling. If he thought it wasn’t a problem, his behavior bordered on psychopathic.

  She hadn’t told June what had happened last night, and she decided now that she wouldn’t tell anyone unless necessary. She’d bandaged her wrist last night, but June hadn’t inquired about it, probably thinking it had something to do with her ordeal with the sound in her bedroom. Still, she kept a wary distance from Jim, sitting as far away as she could at the dining-room table.

  “So what did you discover in Plattsburgh?” June asked Mark, sipping her coffee. “It was so crazy here yesterday, I forgot to ask.”

  He frowned. “Very little. The professor I talked to did, in fact, find that reference he remembered again, but it was very vague. Gnarled Hollow was mentioned in an architectural survey of upstate New York, but by name only. So far, I haven’t located a single source that names the designer or even the builders.” He shook his head. “It’s a complete mystery. The professor and I reviewed the plans for the house, but he too didn’t recognize anything exceptional that might give us more clues.” Again, he glanced at Emily, and she knew without asking that he’d shown the Plattsburgh professor only the original house plans, not the inside measurements he’d taken. Those discrepancies were still a secret between them.

  June frowned. “Why were you gone so long? We expected you back Saturday.”

  Mark gave Emily another quick look, and she was reminded of the conversation they’d had before he left for Plattsburgh. The house unnerved him, and he’d needed a break. Another secret. To June, he said, “I did some digging at the library there before heading back.”

 

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