by Sharon Hays
A young, attractive, blonde woman sat at the front desk that Joan did not recognize. “I had an appointment with Marshall Dunning at ten thirty. My name is Joan Bishop.”
“Oh hello, Miss Bishop, I am Yvonne. He is expecting you. I’ll buzz him and take you to his office.” She hit a button. “Mr. Dunning, your appointment is here, shall I send her in?” Then she stood up. “Come with me, Miss Bishop, right through these doors, on the third floor.”
They entered a glass elevator that went up to his office suite. She could see the front parking lot and street through the elevator glass. It really was quite a beautiful building.
“Here we are.” She walked across the hall and opened the door, motioning Joan inside. “Have a nice day, Miss Bishop.”
“And you as well, thank you.”
“Hello Miss Bishop, or should I say Joan?” The tall, gray haired man got up from his very expensive, high-backed leather chair and held out his hand. “It’s been a long time. How have you been?” His bright green eyes lit up, obviously glad to see her, as they shook hands. He pointed out a chair and motioned her to sit. She had forgotten how tall he was, until he stood up. He towered over her.
“I have been well, thank you. And you?”
“Absolutely fantastic, thanks Mr. Dunning. I do have some information about the will, and Mr. Farthington’s estate. Apparently, he willed it to his sister, Irene Dirkshire. She just got the information yesterday, and was actually quite surprised, because she thought he had never changed the will from his cousin, Harold J. Arnold. She didn’t know that he came in and changed it about two weeks before he passed away. He stopped by one afternoon, unexpectedly, and said he wasn’t feeling well. Said he needed to make some last minute adjustments on his will. Good thing he did. Have you talked to Mrs. Dirkshire recently?”
“I actually spoke to her today, but she didn’t say one way or the other. I think she was waiting to make sure everything was finished before she said anything to me. I did have a question, though, about Harold. He had been in prison, and when I talked to you last, I explained that we had a break in at the office awhile back, and the Police thought he may be implicated. Is there any way you can look into that for me?”
“I can certainly do that for you, Joan.”
“There have been some very strange happenings since I listed the Valencia Manor. My friend, Maryanne O’Donnell, had been interested in an investment on the property, but as crazy as it may sound, I think there could be some kind of supernatural occurrences going on over there. I’ve been doing some research, and it is surprising what has come up. Ever since I listed the property, there have been at least a dozen very strange things occurring. Not just there, but at Maryanne’s house and mine. Have you heard any such stories about the Valencia, in regards to strange phenomenon?”
“Not a whole lot, but I do know a few stories, you know, gossip and that kind of thing. Seems there was some talk of a child that supposedly died long ago in that house, before Farthington owned it. An Italian family from Sicily named Bonicelli. No one knows how or what happened, but this was years ago. I would have to do some research on that. As the story goes, it was a little suspicious, but you know how any town can be when it comes to fables and stories.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, but the more things keep happening, the more I begin to wonder if there may be more truth than fiction to a few of the stories than we originally thought. Or possibly these occurrences may prove to be nothing at all…or explainable. We just have to figure out what the actual truth is. Unless you believe in ghosts, or some kind of supernatural beings, there has to be an explanation, right?” Joan gave a sinister smile and kept her opinion to herself.
Mr. Dunning smiled and winked, “You may just be right, young lady. Let’s see what turns up. Meet me here with Irene Dirkshire next Thursday, and we will finish up some loose ends. Meanwhile, you do your research and I’ll scour this will thoroughly, and go through these papers with a fine-tooth comb. Something will turn up, I am certain.” He stood up, escorted Joan to the door and took her hand. “It has been a pleasure, Miss Bishop and I am looking forward to seeing you next week.”
“Thanks Mr. Dunning. See you Thursday, then.” Her face lit up with a smile as she went back to the main floor. On her way down to the main floor, the elevator jerked, almost knocked her down, and then suddenly stopped abruptly. She fell against the wall. The elevator had come to a complete halt, in between floors. This was all she needed right now. She hit the box to call for help, which was not surprising to be out-of-order, took the cell phone from her bag, and tried to dial the office. No dial tone. A rush of panic swept over her as she beat on the door, hoping someone would hear. Lights went dark in the elevator, and she quickly brought out her small flashlight. Breathing in short gasps, her anxiety kicked in full gear, and she thought more seriously about possible supernatural interference. She tried the phones once more, with no connections coming through. Anxiety taking top priority, she began calling for help as loud as she could get the words out. Only echoes returned from the small space where she stood, frozen with fear. Trying to remain sensible, she called out again, and then beat on the door. She tried to convince herself that it was just a faulty elevator. As new as it was, there were bound to be a few flaws, she rationalized, while standing in the dark. She felt a presence, as if someone was in the elevator with her, standing very close to her.
“Who are you? Say something! I can take it. If you are not from this world, give me some kind of sign. What do you want from me?” She could feel a presence that was overwhelming but not evil. It seemed to calm her down in a strange way. Behind her she felt a warm breath against her neck. Screaming, she called out again, hoping someone would hear.
“Please tell me what you want. I don’t know if you don’t give me some kind of answers. I only want to help, whatever the situation is. I do not want to interfere or hurt anyone. Can’t you understand that?” A sigh seemed to emanate from the small chamber and then the lights came back on. The elevator started moving again, and she was shaken up, but thankful that’s all that happened. When the door opened, she rushed out of the elevator past the receptionist and out the building, half running.
“What is wrong, Miss Bishop?”
“Joan kept going until she reached her car. She climbed inside and sat motionless for a few seconds, trying to make sense of it all.” Then she started the car and drove off to her office, her heart racing.
When she arrived, she eagerly ran inside and poured a cold glass of water, and then sat down at the desk. Her day had changed completely. She had been excited to get started on the research and study the books she was fortunate to acquire from the librarian. Now she was filled with fear and anxiety. She sat quietly for several minutes, mulling over the very questionable experience. Finally gaining her bearings, she flipped the “open” sign around, and lifted the shades. She dialed Maryanne’s cell.
“Hi, Joan, how’s your day going? I have been anxious to talk to you. I met the therapist again today, and had a good hour with her, which has helped me immensely. I’ll fill you in on that later. In addition, Officer Ramos is doing so much better today. I am so thankful. He was talking, and seemed to be back to his old self again. A little groggy, but nonetheless much better! I really like him, Joan. He’s a super nice guy, and has a great sense of humor. I like that in a man. If a man has no sense of humor, I have no interest in him at all. Yes, this one may be worth pursuing. Hey, how is your day going? I am rattling on and haven’t even asked.”
“Well I’m doing okay now, but I’ll tell you later about my experience at the lawyer’s office. I am pleased you are interested in Mario. You need a good diversion.” I am glad to hear he is doing better. I have some good news, and some bad news. I think I’ll wait to tell you the bad news later, at dinner if you want to meet me at Angelo’s Pasta House around seven. Would that fit into your schedule?” Joan did not want to burden Maryanne with this possibly explainable experience, now. She would ex
plain later, at dinner.
“It will fit in perfectly, Joan. Look forward to it.”
“See you there at seven. I have to go now. I’m still at the hospital with Officer Ramos, so I’ll call you just before I leave for Angelo’s.”
Maryanne stepped back into the hospital room, where Officer Ramos sat up smiling, and looking so much better. “I have to go now Detective Ramos, so take care. Get better soon, and I’ll stop by tomorrow to see you.”
“Please call me Mario, Miss O’Donnell. I know we don’t know each other that well, but well enough to be on a first name basis, don’t you think?”
“You’re right, Mario, she smiled. And call me Maryanne. See you tomorrow. Get some rest.” She headed out to pick up her car, which she had left for an oil change and detail, while she was at the hospital. The cab arrived and took her to Milo’s Garage, and then she drove home.
A short while later she arrived at her home, and pulled into the drive, admiring her new landscaping, she had recently completed. She loved her beautiful Russian sage and lovely Lilac bushes. Pushing the door open, she entered her house, dropped her jacket and briefcase on the sofa, went straight to the kitchen, pushed the button to the ever-waiting coffeepot, and sat at the bar making notes of the day’s accomplishments. Being able to talk about some of her problems with a professional had definitely done some good. She leaned over the counter, reaching for her mug, engaging in her nightly ritual of coffee and reflection. The sleeping pills may come in very handy tonight, but she hoped she would not have to use them.
Maryanne showered and changed for the meeting with Joan, at Angelo’s Italian Eatery.
10
Seven o’clock. Joan sat patiently at a small table, overlooking the patio at Angelo’s, sipped on a glass of her favorite Merlot and pondered the last few days. It had been a mixture of questionable experiences, one, after the other.
“Hi Joan.” Maryanne’s familiar voice brought Joan back to reality, as she looked up, relieved to see Joan, and looking forward to sharing good conversation and food.
“You look so much happier, Maryanne. I mean it. Something good is going on with you, and I think his name is Mario Ramos! Am I right?”
“Well, you have me figured out pretty well, Joan. Yes, I do feel good. Seeing Mario feeling so much better, and soon to be released from the hospital, makes me very happy. He is such a sweetheart. I think maybe I like him more than I realized.”
“Great! I like knowing you have someone interesting in your life, besides your work. It’s about time, that’s all I can say.” Maybe this could develop into something good for you both? You never know, but it’s worth the time and effort to find out. Just being friends can lead to some remarkable endings.”
First, I’ll order you a glass of your favorite Merlot. Then I need to talk to you about what happened today.” Salvador, their favorite waiter, brought two glasses of wine.
“Here’s to an eventful week ahead,” Maryanne chanted. They clicked glasses in an Italian tradition.
“Manja… Salute!” Salvador added his ethnic toast. “And what would you lovely ladies like to have this evening? Our special is Crab and lobster-stuffed ravioli. It is unbelievable! Would you like to try it?”
“Sounds wonderful to me, with a nice mixed, green salad, if I may”, Joan answered.
“I am having the same, with Caesar dressing, please. “So why do you look so serious, Joan?” Maryanne questioned her.
“I know you have enough to worry about right now, but something happened today at Mr. Dunning’s office.” She went into detail about the harrowing experience in the elevator.
“Oh, my God, that’s creepy. I’m sorry. That must have been horrible for you. I am sure it was just a faulty elevator, though, don’t you think? With all of the crazy things happening, it just seems like something strange, but I’ll bet if you call them, you’ll find it’s not the first time that elevator has done that.” Maryanne tried to make light of it, even though she felt it was more dubious than she led Joan to believe.
“I have already thought about that, but what about the breathing and the warm body sensation I felt right next to me? It was very real. Maryanne, it’s like when you had the weird things happen at your house and in the shower. If I doubted you at all and tried to brush it off as pure nightmares, I don’t anymore. I think you are right. There has to be some definite unnatural phenomenon going on since the Valencia listing. However, I plan on calling Marshall Dunning’s office, anyway, just to make sure it wasn’t the elevator. But that still doesn’t explain the harsh breathing I definitely heard and the feeling of someone standing right next to me. It could be my usual overactive imagination, too. I understand that, but I think we owe it to ourselves to make sure.
“Try not to think of it tonight, and let’s just have some fun. We’ll get it figured out tomorrow. Just sit back, finish your wine and enjoy this evening.” Maryanne tried to make light of the situation.
They had eaten so much by the end of the evening; the tiramisu was too much for them. It would make a special treat at lunch tomorrow, though. By ten o’clock they were in excellent “spirits,” literally, and ready to call it a night. They paid the check and tipped Salvador generously. He gave the women a hug and walked them to the door, holding it open as they left. Joan felt much better, and managed to push her recent dilemma aside for now. “Thanks for coming, and try not to worry. Everything will work out tomorrow, I’m sure. I had a great time. We should really do this more often. Thank you for suggesting it. We both work too hard, and deserve a reward once in awhile.”
“Thank you, I feel much better, and will take your advice.” After saying their good-byes, they left Angelo’s. The moon was in full bloom and the night was radiant.
Maryanne had been contemplating a way to set Joan up with Steve Tratnik. Joan had not been dating for some time, and she was well aware that Joan was interested in him. She thought about it on the drive home. By the time she arrived at her destination, she had already started putting the plan to work. Tomorrow, she would talk to Steve and ask him to join them at her house for dinner and drinks. She knew he liked Joan, and she would have no problem putting the two of them together. Cupid was now at work…via Maryanne.
11
Joan was busy at the office by seven in the morning, trying to make up for lost time. She had two possible listings to work on, which she needed desperately, so it demanded her full attention. By eleven, one client arrived, and by noon the listing was complete, so she made a quick exit from the office to grab a sandwich from Dalia’s Deli, across the street.
“Well, how are you, Joan?” a familiar voice from behind her in the line called to her. She looked back to see Steve Tratnik.
“Hi Steve!” Her heart fluttered in her chest. Trying to remain nonchalant, she held out her hand to him.
“So good to see you. I came in for a quick sandwich, and have actually been working at my real job for a change. How is the investigation going? Any leads? If you have a few minutes there’s a booth over there. I’ll grab it and you can join me if you like.”
“Sure, sit down and I’ll be with you in a sec.” She was about to pay for her sandwich, and he handed her back the money. “Allow me,”
“Thank you, Steve.” She walked to the booth, taking a seat. When Steve came to the table, he gave her hand a quick squeeze before he sat down. “Joan, I really am glad to see you.” He beamed, and his smile seemed to reach right through her. Still, trying to remain in full composure, she reached for her napkin, spreading it across her lap. She wasn’t about to mention the recent elevator incident at this point. By now, she was trying not to think about that, and hopefully would be able to brush it off as her imagination. Still, in the back of her mind there was a hesitance to eliminate something supernatural. She had yet to call Dunning’s office to inquire about the elevator, and still planned to do that.
Steve suddenly appeared very serious. “I may as well fill you in on the latest, while we’re here. Ha
rold Arnold came out clean on the break-in at your office, but there are some unknown fingerprints we are trying to run down. On the subject of the Valencia, we have gone through the manor, and there is an upstairs room with several empty food containers, an old blanket, and some dirty clothes, that someone had been using. Evidently, some homeless person may have been living in the house for a while. It’s locked up tight now, so no one can get in. We are working on getting the lights on, but the wiring in the house is so old, it’s going to take some time to complete that job. Looks like some kind of animal had been in there chewing on wires and other problems. Scratches and rotted rodent bones are everywhere. Not much we can put together, though, for any connection with this case yet. Don’t worry; we won’t give up on this. We are just getting through the first layer. I am positive we’ll have some breaks in the case very soon. And now, after that horrid description, let’s eat,” he jested.
Joan broke out in a wide smile. “Thanks for the update, Steve. I have a feeling there’ll be a lot more to come. Once I get through the box of paperwork Mr. Farthington left with his sister, Irene Dirkshire, I’ll let you know what I find. There has to be some pertinent information there, I’m sure of it. I had two closings today, so haven’t had a chance to do it, yet. Tonight I will make it a point to finish that task.”
“I have missed you, Joan, and hope we can get together soon, maybe for dinner and a movie one evening. What do you say?”
“I would love that, Steve. Let’s plan it for next weekend. Will that fit into your busy schedule?”
“Absolutely fantastic…” He flashed that incredible smile again. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.” Steve got up from the booth, reached over, gave Joan a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the deli.
Joan’s heart raced as she hurried across the street to her office. It took awhile to get the kiss off her mind. Actually, she never got it off her mind. A few hours later, her final client came in, and she finished the second listing for the day. When Joan called the Dunning office, they were closed, so the open-ended question still remained. She closed the office and left for her house. The clouds had turned a bright fuchsia red and gold as the sun slowly dropped behind the Rockies. She couldn’t remember a more beautiful sunset. She thought about Steve all the way. As she was driving by Maryanne’s, she saw her getting out of her car, and pulled up alongside the curb. Joan rolled down her window. “Saw you drive in and decided to stop. I have been so damn busy, but have really accomplished a lot. Now I can concentrate on the manor, and all of that paperwork I’ve been putting off. Saw Steve today. He actually asked me out for dinner and a movie. I’m so excited!” She told the entire story to Maryanne from beginning to end, not leaving out anything. There I go again, doing all the talking in one breath. Now it’s your turn, what’s been going on with you?”