I needed my husband’s opinion. I worried that my friends were getting hornswoggled into something outrageously expensive. I couldn’t wait to hear what he said about the Paranormal Investigators of Georgia. Were they legit? What did this entail? Was Carol being conned? But worst of all, if this was a legitimate infestation what could possibly be done about it? Listen to yourself Stephanie. Twenty-four hours ago, I would have been a scoffer of such. Now I’m making plans to go wrangle some poltergeists, apparitions, or God only knows what else.
6
The next day Thomas and his team arrived with enough gear to storm Normandy Beach. Doris, Carol, and I watched as they unloaded all kinds of electronic devices, cameras of every ilk, and lighting – lots of lighting. When Giles joined us, he identified other paraphernalia as a voice recorder, an Electromagnetic Field Detector (EMF), several motion detectors, and the biggest thermometer I’ve ever seen.
Thomas introduced us to his team comprised of Marjorie and Victor. They all did this paranormal stuff on the side. By day, they all worked regular jobs. Thomas explained that they would be taking notes and recording data. Temperature fluctuations would automatically be stamped on the recordings along with the date and time.
Thomas asked Carol to sign a release allowing them to investigate the premises. She was a little cautious and had Giles read over it first. Normally the occupant would go through a detailed questionnaire, but under the circumstances there was no need. Carol showed Thomas the deed and the letter from the lawyer’s office. As far as we could determine, no one had lived here in many years including Carol’s mysterious great uncle.
While Victor and Marjorie set up their equipment at the bottom of the stairs and throughout the house, Thomas asked us to take a seat in the front room where he would instruct us in the basics of the investigation.
“When you begin an investigation, there are a few things to be aware of. There are two types of spirits you may encounter. One type is a human who is on this level and doesn’t know he or she is dead. They may have some unfinished business, feel guilty, or have another reason they are hanging around. Normally this type of spirit is not dangerous. This kind of apparition is the kind we get 95% of the time,” Thomas took a sip of water from his water bottle and continued.
“Then you have the residual haunting which is one that has the spirit continually playing back an event – like watching a video over and over. They could go either way but typically are harmless. The worst kind is the specter who was never human. These are the ones you must watch out for. They are wraiths of evil and their motives are not always known. Luckily, I rarely encounter this type of wraith. Any questions?”
I looked around to see if the others were in shock. I was trying to process what Thomas had said so matter-of –fact. If there was a poltergeist, which I found out meant ‘noisy ghost,’ was it friendly or one of the wraith types? I wanted to look at Carol to read her reaction, but common sense told me to act calm.
Giles cleared his throat.
“Yes Dr. Hart,” Thomas said.
“How is this initial investigation going to proceed?” Giles asked.
“Excellent question. Until we get a blueprint of these premises, we will hold our inspection to the basic first floor sweep. We will ask a blessing for protection and divide into teams. Each team has a specific task – either use the EMF to determine electromagnetic movement, monitor the thermometer readings and motion detectors, or take relevant notes on general conditions such as weather, camera readings, interference with lighting etc.”
“What about us?” Doris asked.
“I’m just getting to that. I wanted you here at the initial meeting to see if the presence reacts to any of you specifically. Since Carol is a direct descendant, the spirit might prefer her. Please stay here and remain silent. I am going to confer with the team and record any findings. All of this will be in the report.”
While Thomas met with the other paranormal investigators, we took this opportunity to whisper among ourselves.
“Do you really believe in this stuff, Carol?” Giles asked.
“I’m not sure. I want to know more about this house, my great uncle, and what may or may not have transpired here. Thomas makes a lot of sense. But I know there are a lot of frauds out there ready to part a fool and his money as the Bible says.”
“What do you think, girls?” Carol turned to me and Doris.
Doris spoke up first. “This reminds me of something I’ve seen on television. You know with the brown dog and the hippie with the beard.”
I frowned and tried to think. Was it something she’d seen on one of those reality shows? Or perhaps the history channel?
“Scooby Doo?” Carol said.
“Yes, that’s the one. He and his friend are always ghostbusting so to speak. They scare up spooky things that usually turn out to be someone trying to pull a stunt. It’s a funny show. Let me see there’s Daphne, Velma, Fred, and Shaggy. I like Daphne the best, don’t you Carol?”
Carol was showing signs of wanting to punch Doris’ lights out. She avoided the question while I stifled a giggle. I don’t think Giles picked up on the joke but there was no time to explain as Thomas was headed in our direction.
“I think we have concluded that this is all the activity we can accomplish tonight. If you can manage those schematics we talked about, any history you can uncover, and most importantly have the electricity turned on, then our team might be able to assess whether there is an ectoplasmic spirit that is attached to something in the house or is reliving an occurrence repeatedly. I will be in touch.”
In a few moments, Victor and Marjorie left as quietly as they came with their gear packed up. Giles gave them an assist in loading the van. Thomas gave us all business cards and informed us when all the reports were in and when they were ready to pursue the investigation.
“He seems like a nice man,” Doris said wistfully.
Giles ignored Doris’ compliment about Thomas and said sternly, “We have a lot of preparations to do. As soon as we have proper lighting I will help organize and assess any valuables. Stephanie, could you oversee photographing and cataloguing each item for insurance purposes and for future sales? Doris, what do you know about art?”
“Well on the program, Scooby goes to Ghoul School. . .
We turned to see why Doris stopped talking. Carol’s hand was over her mouth.
“Enough for today,” Carol said. “I can’t take any more.”
Giles went into the hallway and shined his flashlight in all directions.
“Don’t go too far,” I cautioned.
Giles opened a side closet that we hadn’t noticed and evidently Thomas’s team didn’t venture into either. Something fell off the top shelf.
It was a human skull.
7
Carol screamed. Giles blanched a shade I’ve never seen. Doris fainted. I just stood there in shock. What are the chances that fate would send another crime into my little burg?
Grimes, our old friend from the local police, appeared in no time along with paramedics, an ambulance, and other vehicles with sirens and lights that could be seen from space. The detective divided our group where we answered questions and more questions, but the truth was none of us knew anything.
The paramedics revived Doris and gave Carol a sedative. Giles and I passed on the tranquilizers, but we were all tired, hungry, and growing grumpier by the minute. After what seemed like years, Detective Grimes said that we were dismissed and advised not to leave town as if that was going to happen.
Carol and Doris were rattled by the whole thing. We calmed them before going home ourselves. While getting ready to retire for the night, Giles and I discussed the alternatives.
“Maybe we need a lawyer who specializes in this stuff,” I just put that idea out there.
“That’s a good idea. Do you know anyone?” Giles seemed to perk up at my suggestion.
“No but I’ll wager that Uncle Harry does. He knows a lot about a variet
y of stuff – not just poisons,” I smiled and pecked Giles on the cheek. “I’ll text him and see if we can meet tomorrow. Are you in?”
“No. I have class. Maybe Harry or some of his connections could find out why Carol inherited this house from someone she obviously didn’t know existed. But, probably first order of the day is to find out whose head rolled out of the closet at my feet,” Giles said with his voice slightly raised.
My husband pulled back the comforter to crawl into our king size bed, but I think we both knew that no one who had witnessed what we had would do very much sleeping tonight.
I texted my adopted uncle and was surprised that he responded immediately. Usually Harry was in bed by this hour.
8
The next morning, I awoke with the sound of a key turning the lock. It was Uncle Harry with a box from Cinnabon© and Khaki in tow. He dog sat last night when I didn’t know how long we would be at the paranormal investigation. In typical Harry fashion, he had pooh-poohed the whole thing. I must admit I had my doubts as well, but Carol was gung-ho to find out if there were any ancestral apparitions hanging about. It had cost me a day of writing. I was anxious to get back to the next Diva book which to date had a working title of Deadly Diva and not much of a context. I intended to keep the characters that were in the other Diva books, but I was having trouble with the plot.
I sat down with Uncle Harry and helped myself to coffee and a cinnamon bun.
“Uncle Harry, would you know of an attorney who specializes in houses that . . . um have a history?”
“A history like what?” he answered stirring in enough sugar to produce diabetes.
“You know like rumors of deaths, ghosts, that sort of thing,” I tried to sound casual.
“You mean like the albatross that Carol has herself tied to? With the added plus of a head in the closet.”
“How could you possibly know about the skull?”
“Doris phoned me when she got home last night,” he chuckled. “Sometimes I think she had a ‘thing’ for me.”
He bit into the cinnamon bun and broke off a small piece for Khaki who sat admiringly at his feet.
You can’t sneak anything by a military intelligence guy, especially in a small town.
“Yes, precisely,” I answered.
“I might know someone but first you have to obtain copies of the deeds, blueprints of the house and grounds plus background on the owners. After that we can figure out what else we need. You or rather Carol doesn’t want to look like a fool rushing in with wild tales about what may or may not have occurred in the Hotel Rutherford. Rumors grow every time they are repeated. We must have facts, my dear. Facts.”
“Of course. You’re right. I thought I would go to the court house, city hall, and the library to see what I can find on Carol’s mysterious uncle as well as others who have resided in what is now called Hotel Rutherford,” I stirred my coffee and continued enjoying my cinnamon bun. I dared not think how many calories I was consuming.
“Uncle Harry. Perhaps you could come with me?”
“Not a chance. I have a lunch date with the gal who owns the new tea shop in town,” he replied. “I’m not keen on being around when the rest of the skeleton shows up.”
“You mean the Coffee, Tea, or Me place?”
“That’s the one,” he smiled and stirred more cream into his coffee.
“You rascal. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” I teased.
“She’s not that yet, but definitely a prospect. It’s our first date so I figured lunch was safe,” he chuckled. “After that episode with Pamela, I propose to play it safe and keep things on neutral territory.”
“I don’t blame you. Giles has already left for class, so when you finish would you walk Khaki and lock up?
“Sure thing,” he replied.
I kissed him on the cheek, patted Khaki, and forced myself to leave. Going downtown to research specs on a supposedly haunted property was not what I had in mind for today. My writing was suffering. Could I possibly incorporate this real-life madness into the Deadly Diva book? Something to ponder while battling rush hour.
9
I pulled my mini cooper into a space about a block from City Hall. I gave this car to myself after the first Diva book sold so well. She is red with black leather upholstery. Giles, my traditional husband, thought my choice was a bit on the gaudy side, but I am determined to enjoy the fruits of my Diva success. The man has no sense of style. He drives a boring old van that used to be his brothers’. All he needs to complete the look is a corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows complete with a meerschaum pipe.
The City Hall was a maze, so I sought the directory board which turned out to be less than helpful. The receptionist was at her desk, so I asked directions.
“Why exactly do you need this information?” the polite receptionist asked.
“I need research data for a book I’m writing,” I lied.
“Really? And what type of book would that be?” she inquired further.
I flashed a business card bearing the title of my Diva books. She wasn’t easily convinced so I presented driver’s license and a credit card.
“So, you’re the famous Stephanie Hart who writes the books as Stella Holmes?”
“Guilty as charged,” I smiled in hopes of cracking the icy glare plastered on Ms. Not Friendly at All.
“I’ve read your books. I am a budding author myself,” she offered.
Oh boy! Here we go. Another person who wants me to read her fiction/nonfiction, romance/adventure, juvenile/children’s book.
“I just happen to have a copy of my science fiction romance adventure story. It is something I do in my spare time. Could you read it perhaps?” she offered a manila envelope about 2 inches thick. I knew that her cooperation depended on my answer.
“Of course,” I said and took the manila folder she proffered.
Only then did she seem interested in listening to me explain the circumstance concerning Doris’s inheritance along with our difficulty getting the assessor to organize an estate sale. I left out the part about the spirit infestation and the skull. I didn’t want her to commit me to the nut house.
She seemed amenable, but I couldn’t read her expression. Did she think I was blowing smoke? I made mental notes. She just might wind up being a not-so-nice character in Deadly Diva.
Miss Receptionist disappeared and came back with an index card bearing a lot of numbers and letters. She directed me to the appropriate room along with instructions as to how to find exactly what I was looking for. I was relieved that I didn’t have to promise anything else but to read her manuscript and email her what I thought. The day wasn’t over yet and I wasn’t about to burn any useful bridges.
At the back of the room I found the section of the building dedicated to historical records. I traced back Erastus Philemon Smith to his parents, grandparents and beyond. After several hours, I found some information that might be the connection to Carol family. Only then did I begin to see things a little more clearly. Her mother’s maiden surname was McIlheny which was a distant relation to the Mooney family.
Great Uncle Erastus’ grandmother was Elvira Mooney who became Elvira Smith. She was known for ‘talking burns’ and ‘removing warts’ and other stuff where her powers seemed to be derived from a spiritual force other than Christianity. Elvira kept her stuff low key. They lived in what became Hotel Rutherford in the early 1800s. Several servants were rumored to have gone missing over this time, but no proof was ever presented.
Erastus’ grandfather shared the same first name which made things interesting when tracing the family tree. Erastus Sr. was a taxidermist and had his shop located in the back part of the house. Quotes from neighbors said that he was ‘a quiet man who let Elvira take care of the running of the household and raising the children.’
Hmmm. Children? How many? We know that there was at least one son who produced the Erastus Smith that was related to the McIlhenny clan. It was there that the log en
ded. Time for more research. Maybe from another viewpoint. So, I began searching the McIlhenny clan. They are the ones who make the Tabasco sauce in Louisiana. I wonder how that all came about.
Were there any ‘black sheep’ in the family tree? This branch of the family tree moved to Louisiana and apparently had little to do with the Smiths, Mooneys, or other kin. That would explain why Carol didn’t know her uncle.
Back to the Smiths after World War I, Elvira was in the house with the children. Erastus Sr. evidently died of a mysterious ailment. He was known to eat pudding several times a day. The grocer in town made special orders and deliveries while Erastus Sr. was ill. I also found it interesting that puddings were used to disguise disagreeable tastes like poison.
Suddenly the orders stopped, people were left to their imaginations. Either Erastus Sr. got well or died. Which one is up for discussion? Nevertheless, he disappeared. Elvira had a sister, Evelyn, which she visited quite a bit according to archived letters.
By this time, the town was avoiding both Elvira and Evelyn and the word ‘witch’ was bandied about. Evelyn was a single woman who lived about a mile from Elvira. Erastus Jr. often stayed with his aunt at certain times of the year. Neighbors swore that visitors were few and often weren’t seen again. No one was brave enough to investigate. Rumors indicate that Evelyn moved into the house and nursed Elvira when she became ill.
This was dark stuff. I wonder if Carol wanted to hear it. And just how did her great uncle figure into all of this? What happened to his grandmother and aunt? Was he part of the Wiccan religion or just caught up in a family that was more dysfunctional than most?
When the receptionist came to check on me, I asked her to make copies of some of the materials I had uncovered. I wasn’t sure how much of it I would share with my friend, but it made great background material for another novel. Writers are notorious for gathering material anywhere they can, and I am no exception. Besides some of this stuff was so crazy I don’t know if anyone would believe it. Luckily, I had a resource most folks didn’t have on symbology and alternative religions – my husband.
Murder in the Classic City Page 10