by Sharon Hays
Maryanne was thinking about her idea to set them up, but Steve beat her to it and that was even better, she was thinking, after Joan told her he had finally asked her out.
“I’ve been great. Busy, too. I went through some of the paperwork and did a little research but not as much as I’d like to. I’m glad you and Steve are getting together.”
“Have you heard the latest in the investigation?” Joan asked.
“Actually yes. I stopped by the sheriff’s department, and they filled me in on some of the details and strange findings at the house. Someone had to be staying in the Manor, with all of the evidence they have accumulated.
“Oh, and By the way, Joan, I stopped by Boulder Hospital to visit Mario, and he is doing so much better. He has a little amnesia about that night, but the doctor is positive it will all come back to him with rest and good care. They are going to release him in a few days if he keeps improving like he has.”
“That’s good news. Bet he’s chompin’ at the bit waiting to get out of there. Come on in, and we’ll chat over coffee while I get the papers and photos out. We can go through the box and possibly find something to help answer these questions on the property.”
“Sure I have some time now. Let’s do it.” Maryanne agreed.
The girls began their quest. Coffee was brewing and papers were scattered across the kitchen bar and dining room table.
“Here, take a look at this. I think I found something,” Maryanne held up a very old photo of a couple with a child. Who is this?” She could tell by the clothing and hairstyle of the woman that it had to be in the early nineteen hundreds. She had dark hair and looked to be around twenty-five years old. The child looked to be around six. The man had a dark complexion, a large moustache, and very dark hair. He was quite handsome. The photo appeared to be taken in front of the Valencia Manor when it was very new and in pristine condition.
“That has to be the Bonicellis, the original owners from Sicily we were told about. The Valencia looks stunning. Look, you can clearly see the engraving at the top, Valencia Manor, eighteen eighty-nine.” Joan was wound up with enthusiasm.
“Yes, you’re right.” Maryanne said. “Look on the back, it says ‘Papa, Mama, and baby Anna Maria.” The date is smudged, but looks like ‘nineteen-o-five.’ This must have been just a few years before the baby supposedly died. Let’s try to find some verification on that. If nothing else, we can go to the Carnegie Branch Library and look up more of the old news articles and documents.”
Joan held up another photo. “I found another picture of a young couple. This could be the Farthingtons. He’s tall and stoic, and resembles the painting at the Manor. Of course, this is when he was very young, so I can’t be sure, but it’s likely Mr. Farthington. His wife was quite striking. The date on this one looks like ‘nineteen forty-eight.’ What do you think?” She handed the photo to Maryanne.
“Nineteen forty-eight is my guess as well. These photos are a real asset to its historical background. Here’s one of a nice looking, blonde-haired woman holding a small baby, a month or two old. I wonder if this is his lover, Jacqueline. There’s no date on this photo. Another one. This baby is only about two weeks old. On the back it says ‘sweet daughter Francine.’ We should be able to look into it at the library, and get a clearer picture of what happened back in the forties.”
“Here’s a letter to Jacqueline from John Farthington.” Joan held up a worn and barely legible letter that had darkened with age, spotted with drops of what looked like water, or perhaps tear stains on it as Joan would interpret. “Listen, it reads: ‘My Darling Jacqueline, I wish I could have known you before my marriage. Things are not good here. I would give anything to be with you, but I cannot leave, because my wife will never let me go. She has threatened to do whatever it takes to keep us apart. I worry for your safety. She has not been herself lately, and I am afraid what she could do. I will take care of you and the baby financially. For now, please know that I love you, and will always love you. Until we meet again, your love forever will be in my heart. Someday, I will find you and we can be together. I pray for your safe journey to San Diego. Please let me know when you get there. I will send whatever you need for you and my loving child. Forever yours, John.’ Joan leaned against the table; her chin resting on the palms of her hands, reflecting on the heart-rending letter.
“That is one romantic and depressing love letter,” Joan remarked. . “He must have really loved her, but his wife obviously didn’t want to let him go. That is really sad, though I don’t condone affairs. I guess it depends on the situation, and at this point we can only guess. His wife may have been a mean, selfish woman; but then again, if he was having an affair, it’s no wonder she was upset.” Joan pondered the discovery, trying to make sense of it.
Maryanne took an envelope from the box of papers and jumped up excitedly. “Here is a letter from San Diego in nineteen fifty-five. It’s from Jacqueline to John. Oh my God. She says here the baby died while she was in California! Listen to this.
‘Dearest John, I have some terrible news about our daughter, Rosaria. She became very ill three weeks ago, and I took her to the emergency room. She had been unable to breathe well, and they did all they could, but she passed on yesterday at four p.m. at the hospital. I know this is going to devastate you as it has me. Our little Angel is gone, and I will pray for you, that God will ease your pain and mine. God bless you and keep you in his love. Forever, Jacqueline.’
“She was only about seven years old! With this information coming to light, we may find some of the secrets of the Valencia Manor that have connections to the present time. There are definitely some questions that need to be answered, though.” Maryanne said.
She sighed and continued, “Well, I have to get some rest. We can continue this tomorrow night, if you have time. I planned to go to the Manor early tomorrow morning. Steve said the lights might be on, so I may go around five. It’ll still be dark, but with lights, I have no problem going in there. There is so much more I want to see. I’m taking the camera this time. For some reason, I have to go and finish what I’ve started with the Valencia Manor, and the unanswered questions. I am so drawn to the place. It’s as if I can’t quit.”
“Maryanne, get some good rest and I’ll talk to you tomorrow afternoon. Be very careful tomorrow. I worry about you in that house. You know how skeptical I am, now that I’ve experienced unusual phenomenon.” Joan walked outside with Maryanne, gave her a quick hug and stepped back into her house, flipping on the porch light.
“See you tomorrow, Joan.”
Maryanne backed out of the driveway and returned to her home on Mapleton Avenue. The eighty-year-old trees hovered over the street with long, gangly arms as she turned into her driveway. She carefully edged the car underneath the carport, which barely gave her enough room to squeeze through the overgrown bushes. She had to open the car door carefully to keep some of the prickly vines from scratching her car. She climbed out in a sideways fashion, brushing her body against the car to avoid branches that protruded from the unkempt foliage. Better soiled clothes than scratched body, she reasoned quietly to herself. Making a mental note, she added it to the long list of to-dos for the house she hoped to someday, completely renovate and make a profit from.
She opened the door and switched on the lights, only to find the power off. “Now, wouldn’t that just beat all? What else could go wrong?” She reached into her purse, took the small flashlight, and headed to the basement where the fuse box hung on a dusty, concrete wall. She cautiously walked down steep and decrepit stairs. They creaked with every step she took. This old house seriously needs an overhaul, she thought to herself. Maryanne approached the landing, and made her way across the musty room where the fuse box was hanging, covered with cobwebs and dust.
One small window let in a subtle glow from the moon. Just enough light to help her in this gloomy, dim-lit room and enough to let her know where she was in regards to the fuse box. Feeling the corroded metal, she
brushed cobwebs away, hoping the spiders were not at home, tried to open it and dropped the flashlight.
“Damn it! Just what I needed!” She felt around for the light, brushing her hand against what felt like more cobwebs and bugs, but didn’t give up until she found it. Flipping the switch a few times, and screwing the bottom in a little tighter, a faint light finally emitted from its source, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she heard someone breathing. Heart jumping, she quickly opened the box and checked fuses to see if she could solve the problem. It was in the off position, and she pulled the rusted lever. Fear rushed through her and she turned to leave.
The power came on upstairs, and a stream of light from the door fell through, lighting her way up the narrow staircase. She ran up the stairs, all the while wondering if she was imagining someone breathing, or was it her thinking about what Joan had told her on the recent ordeal in the elevator. When she reached the landing, she slammed the door and leaned against it breathing hard. She stood there for a minute, and then flipped on kitchen lights and carefully laid her new Gucci bag across the bar. She must have held on tight to the bag, since she lost her expensive Gucci, when she was inside the Manor on her first visit there. She walked into the kitchen, and was startled to see that food had been laid out on her kitchen table, and someone had taken the time to eat while she was away from the house. Heart again, in full pounding mode, it was time to get serious. She picked up a large knife from the block on her counter, and checked the living room and bedroom, turning on more lights. Carefully laid out on her bed, was her red satin dress; one she had not worn for at least five years. Her sexy red lingerie was neatly placed next to the dress, as if she had been planning an intimate evening with a very special man. On the floor in front of the dress, just underneath the edge of her bed, her silver heels were strategically placed next to each other.
Starting to panic, she asked herself who would play that kind of joke, especially at a time like this. Joan would never deliberately scare her, so how did this happen? Surely someone she knew must be the culprit, but there was no one else with a key to the house except Joan. Trying to make sense of it, Maryanne looked through the rest of the house, but nothing else seemed out of place. The kitchen and bedroom were enough to rattle anybody’s cage, she thought. Calling Joan was the last thing she wanted to do again, but at this point she had no other choice. She pushed the quick dial for Joan and waited…
“Hello, this is Joan, what’s up Maryanne? I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“Well, I would have been, but…” She went on to explain the scenario that had just taken place.
“That’s insane! Who would do that? Maybe you should call Steve. They really need to investigate this! It could possibly have something to do with the intruder at my office, but now that I think about it, the suspect is still in jail. I’ll call Steve for you, and call you right back.”
Several minutes went by, and she watched from the living room window, still holding the knife tight in her hand, as the car pulled up. She saw Officer Tratnik hurrying up the stairs to her front door, and she opened it when he was about to knock.
“Maryanne are you all right?” He looked around, scanning the house with a quick glance. Then he looked down and saw the knife. “Hold on there, Maryanne; Give me the knife before you hurt yourself.”
She opened the door all the way and looked down at the knife. When Steve held out his hand to take it, she let go and it dropped to the floor.
Steve unsnapped his holster, and was ready for anything. “When I came home, I flipped the lights on, but the lights were out.” She went on, taking him through the house to the basement, showing him the fuse box, and back to her kitchen. “I did not leave my house this way. I haven’t even been here today. I didn’t eat here today. A cup of coffee and that’s it. Look at the food on the table. Someone was here. I certainly didn’t leave it like this. Look at the bedroom. What kind of person pulls a joke like this? I haven’t worn that dress for over five years I think it was actually on New Year’s Eve.”
“Very crazy,” Steve pondered. “This is not a joke, I am sure. It is someone’s idea of trying to scare you, though. An unhappy customer, perhaps? There would have to be a reason for someone to do something so bizarre.”
“All of my friends are very down to earth and not vengeful or mean. I have no known enemies at all. Not since high school days and that was just kid stuff.”
Steve took off his cap and wiped his forehead, looking very serious. “Whoever did this could be connected to the break-in at Joan’s. The suspect we have was just released from jail two days ago. We didn’t have enough evidence to hold him, so we had to let him go. We have been tailing him, but he hasn’t been in this area to our knowledge, unless he gave us the slip somehow. We’ll get a team on this as soon as possible. Some things are starting to show a pattern here, but not enough to give us any concrete answers, yet. We’ll do another search through your house, then you lock up and I’ll send the guys over in the morning to do a complete sweep with prints and all. Meanwhile, a car will remain in the vicinity to keep an eye on the property. I’ll have one officer here for the rest of the night, though. He’ll be parked close to the house to keep an eye out. Remember, if you hear or see anything, call immediately.”
While Officers did a thorough search of the house, Maryanne took her current novel to the recliner, and picked up where she left off. She took a blanket off the back of the couch and covered herself, ready to dive into the novel, so she could get her mind off the intruder. Reading usually made her tired, and hopefully she could fall asleep. A sleeping pill would help, she thought, but she hadn’t been taking them, and was completely out. The officers were finishing their search and getting ready to leave. Steve called Chief Olson to report the current status of his search and then his phone rang.
“Steve here, Joan. I’m still at Maryanne’s, and there have definitely been some unusual goings-on in the last several hours. It’s being checked out now. I am sure she will fill you in, shortly. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon. Maybe we can have a late lunch or an early dinner. Have to go now. I’m going out on another call. I’ll give you to Maryanne, now. Talk to you later.”
“Bye, Steve. Talk to you tomorrow”
“Hello Maryanne. Are you doing okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine now. “You know, more trouble in paradise, it seems. Someone got in the house and did some strange things, but what’s new, huh? The weird part is seeing that dress and lingerie on the bed with those silver shoes. I remember wearing that dress at a New Years Eve party, about five years ago. That red one; remember, the one you liked so well. Whoever it is, must be trying to play a sick joke, or is a very strange and possibly demented person. Either way, it freaked me out.”
“That is weird, Maryanne, and I don’t like the idea of you being over there alone. You are welcome to stay here tonight, if you want.”
“They have someone guarding, and a car patrolling, until tomorrow. They are coming in the morning to complete a fingerprint, DNA and further search. I’m fine. I’m tired and think I’ll go right to bed. I was reading while Steve was doing that, so I am going to bed, and hopefully get some sleep. You need rest too, so don’t worry. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Thanks for caring, Joan.”
“Good night, Maryanne. Talk to you then. Sleep well.”
12
While Maryanne sat at her table having morning coffee, she tried to recollect a dream she had last night. Again, it took place inside the Manor. As she was ascending the staircase at the Valencia, a foul smell had enveloped the house, and a dark figure moved toward her. She tried to recognize who it was, when it seemed to enter into her, physically, as she felt like someone had hit her in the chest, taking her breath away. For a moment she had the eerie feeling that someone had control of her. She had the feeling of anger and resentment brimming through her and wanted to get revenge on someone, not knowing who or why. And then…the resounding alarm clock quickly snapped her
back into reality. She had been thankful for the interruption, although the feeling of someone else overpowering her seemed to linger. She lay there for a few moments, thinking about the strange dream.
Soon after, her thoughts refocused on Mario. She was looking forward to visiting him first thing, and then the Valencia Manor was going to be top priority. Even with all of the unimaginable events, Maryanne’s overwhelming compulsion was getting the best of her. She still had an obsessive impulse to visit the eerie Manor on Valencia Lane. She put on dress-slacks, her beige, safari jacket, and topped it off with her favorite Gucci perfume. She momentarily flashed back on the dream, and then quickly pushed it out of her thoughts, and finished dressing.
Coffee was out of the question. She left the house exactly as she found it the night before. The police had a key, so they would be searching the house and taking prints while she was out. She climbed into her car, as she brushed up against the Russian sage, remembering she had to call the yard man. Easing cautiously into the street, she noticed a large spot of oil in the carport, and stopped to check for a leak. She put her finger into the reddish black mess and smelled it, thinking she wouldn’t know the difference between power steering fluid and oil, anyway. Now there was another task added to the list. She sped off to the Java Joint on Main Street, and picked up her morning fix of caffeine. Now she was able to function.