by Sharon Hays
“The curse of this house had been completely lifted. It all began many years ago, and so many events played upon its unearthly heritage until tonight. Everyone is free now, to go on and be in a world of goodness and love. To a place we will all be someday; where everyone will be someday.”
Marshall turned on his lantern. “All of your work is done, Vivian. You have cleared the house of bad energy. The goodness crossed over into a realm we only dream about or question.”
“My work is done here, now. I am tired and must rest. I hope the house has no more entities that we have not confronted. If that happens, you know where to find me,” she smiled and they stood in silence taking in the unbelievable scenario that had played out in front of them. For several minutes no one spoke. They remained quiet and still, reflecting on the work that Vivian Gilbreth had been gifted with since she was a child. Vivian leaned back, resting from the exhausting communication she has just completed.
“I think we can go now, but there is one thing the child told me before she left. Someone here in this house needs our help. She is alive, hiding in this house, and cannot find a way to communicate her dilemma to the outside world. She was traumatized by evil people, and lives in fear and loneliness. We must let the police know, so they don’t come storming in here, perhaps hurting or killing her.”
Joan and Marshall were excited by this revelation. Maryanne said the person who captured her was not evil and had tried to explain it to the police, but they thought she was delusional.
“Let’s get out of here,” Marshall said. “Vivian must get some rest. She has had a very exhausting night. This takes a lot of energy from her,” Marshall insisted. He had been very close to Vivian for several years and was very protective of her.
“I will talk to Maryanne about her captivity in this house and see if we can make sense of this. I don’t think we should say anything to the police until we talk to her.” They both agreed. The moon was straight up in the sky like a giant, golden sphere. The three of them stood outside the Manor looking up at the spectacle. It illuminated the sky and shone over the Valencia, as they had never seen it. As they walked to their cars, they felt relieved and thankful.
“I feel like we witnessed some kind of miracle,” Joan said. “I don’t understand it, but nevertheless it was real, and we did a lot of good for people who aren’t even here with us. It’s simply remarkable! Vivian, you are an amazing person and have done so much for so many. I thank you with all my heart.” She got into her car after they said their good-byes. Joan left for home and hopefully another good night’s sleep.
45
Marshall took Vivian to her hotel and immediately went to Jonathon Livingston’s for a late dinner and drinks. Jonathon was well informed on the paranormal, and Marshall kept in touch to relay current progress at the Manor about the excursion in ghost-hunting. Mr. Livingstone had been involved in several other incidents in Denver concerning apparitions and poltergeists so he was an excellent source of information.
46
Chief Olson began his day early. His main objective was searching the Valencia Manor and the neighborhood again for the missing suspect, who apparently was still able to come and go without being discovered. Several clues had led them to the conclusion that there must be a secret entrance, and he was determined to find it. Research had uncovered that the Bonicellis originally owned the house where Mrs. Brindle had lived and died in that terrible accident, falling down her basement stairs. They lived there while they were building the Valencia. They had purchased the small house when they first arrived in Boulder. The property had included five acres of vacant land adjacent to it where they eventually constructed the Manor in 1889. The chief concluded that there could be a connection to the property. He thought the Bonicellis had installed a secret entrance when the Valencia was first built. He was determined to find the answer today. At the station, Chief Olson set up the usual team of four officers. He would lead the search. Officer Steve Tratnik and Detective Mario Ramos would do the search inside the Manor. Officer Monte Jackson would search the Brindle house next door, and Officer David Griffin would take care of DNA, prints, and evidence.
They started at seven a.m. on Friday. “We won’t quit until we find out where the perpetrator is entering and who is responsible for the kidnapping. Hopefully then, we will know more about Mrs. Brindle’s accident, or murder, whichever the case may be. The kidnapper is more than likely one and the same, the way I see it right now.” They were aware of the dumbwaiter and the underground cavern, but there had to be more.
“You take the outside, Tratnik. Ramos and I will take the inside. Griffin, you pick up your bag and be prepared when I need you to collect the evidence. Officer Jackson, you will search the Brindle home from top to bottom.”
The five of them diligently searched for anything and everything. Officer Jackson went to the top floor of the Valencia and then went to the basement. They had placed four large lanterns strategically around the Manor. When they had completely searched the top floor, they started on the main floor. For the first time, there were no strange visions, no sounds, and no evidence that gave reason to believe there were ghosts, subhuman or otherwise, existing in the house. That was Chief Olson’s main concern. He had heard so many stories about the ghostly aberrations and supernatural activity, and he was determined to squelch any such rumors. He did not believe any stories of strange phenomenon of ghosts and the like.
This day would soon pay off; he was sure. He could end the stories, find the kidnapper, and close the case, once and for all. When they reached the main floor, he gave each officer instructions where to search. They were well-equipped with lights, cameras, and of course, ammunition. He had one team go through the basement thoroughly, hoping to find an entry to the tunnel that led to the Brindle house next door. The chief was well informed about the seemingly invincible creature that had been responsible for keeping Maryanne captive in the hole. He knew someone had to be accessing the Brindle home from a tunnel, in order to get food from time to time, until the accident when Mrs. Brindle fell to her death down her basement stairs. He also agreed with Mario: the half-human creature was not a ghost or a creature but a person who was hiding and using the houses as refuge, and had been doing so for many years.
However, Maryanne was unable to convince either of them that the person responsible had been mistreated and perhaps tortured, making it afraid and full of revenge. Therefore, she warned them not to hurt or shoot the suspect. She hoped they would be cautious and take the suspect into custody. Then work on trying to get it back to good health and rehabilitated, while obviously it would be under strict supervision.
At this point, no one agreed with her, so she was very concerned when they made plans to go inside and continue with the search. She knew if they killed the suspect they would never know who it really was or where it came from. She tried very hard to convince the team, but they obviously did not take much heed to her suggestions.
When the day started, she called headquarters, asking for Mario Ramos, and they informed her that he was on the team investigating the Valencia that day. She knew the only way to convince the police was going to the Manor. She could, at least, try to help them communicate with the suspect. She felt that if she made a connection with the person, the creature may listen to her. The only solution was for her to go, hoping the police would allow her to intervene.
She arrived at the Manor and hurried up the steps to the front door, and then called out to Detective Ramos. Lanterns lit the house well, and she could see partially inside the great room.
“Maryanne, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here! It isn’t safe.” He backed her out of the doorway and spoke quietly to her. “The chief will be upset that you are here. You really need to go home. I’ll let you know what happens as soon as we find the suspect.”
“Mario, you know as well as I do, the suspect is not the mean murderer the chief thinks. It is a misguided person who has been unjustly confined and n
eeds help. In capturing this person, you have to make sure it is not harmed or killed. Not only for the sake of the suspect, but for answers to other questions about the murder of Mrs. Brindle, and who this person is, and how it got here. It is a victim as well, and we need to know who abused it. There is more than meets the eye in the history of this ghastly house. Let me come inside with you. Convince the chief to let me be there, and if you find the person, I am sure I will be able to communicate with it. I know I can. Just give me a chance. Please!” she begged.
“I’ll ask him, but I already know the answer, Maryanne. He’s a very stubborn man, and nothing is going to make him change his mind. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared inside the house.
Three shots rang out, and then another, and another. Maryanne knew it was already too late! She sat down on the top step, waiting for bad news.
“Maryanne, come here!” Mario stuck his head out the door and motioned to her. She followed him inside.
Mario explained to her that the suspect had run out into the great room, surprised the officers, and they shot, wounding her. She was lying on the floor, but was still alive and in serious condition. “Come with me.”
She followed Mario to the door of the pantry, where on the floor she could see the creature lying in pain, but alive. It began the familiar, heart-wrenching cry when it saw Maryanne. Tears fell down its cheeks, leaving streaks of white on the sad, soiled face of what she knew now to be the face of a woman, not a man, not a creature, but a woman. She had been shot in the right shoulder, and she was bleeding profusely. She needed medical attention. They had immediately called for the ambulance. Maryanne knelt beside the injured woman and took her rough, scaled hand in hers. She tried to pull away at first, but locked eyes with Maryanne as she talked to her in the same calm, reassuring voice as she had during her captivity. The woman relaxed and calmed down.
The chief knew then, that Maryanne was right. He felt bad about the shooting. When the EMTs arrived, they quickly gave her attendance and assured the chief that she was going to be all right. Maryanne followed the ambulance under direction of the chief.
She nervously stayed in the waiting room while they removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding. They kept the woman sedated and had guards outside the door, just in case she woke and tried to escape, hurting herself or someone else. The team was finished with most of the puzzle. When the woman woke up, Maryanne wanted to be there. Conversing at this point, was going to be an important factor in keeping her calm. She had to understand no harm would come to her, and that they were going to help her and keep her safe. Maryanne stayed for several hours, falling asleep on the couch while the woman slept.
“Maryanne, she is awake, now.” Mario gently touched her shoulder, waking her. “Do you want to go inside and try talking to her? She’s very frightened.” Mario handed her a cup of steaming coffee. “I know you are exhausted. This’ll help you wake up. Maybe you can comfort her. She really needs a friend, someone to help her understand what’s going on here.”
Steve Tratnik explained to Maryanne that he searched the Brindle house next door to the Valencia, discovering that the food left behind in the cupboards was almost completely gone. There were at least forty or fifty cans of various kinds of food left, after the accident of Irma Brindle. The woman had been accessing the house through a tunnel in the basement of the Valencia to the Brindle house basement. That’s how she managed to evade the police for so long.
“When we searched,” Steve said, “she must have stayed inside the tunnel. When she was discovered, she wasn’t expecting anyone since we hadn’t been over there for awhile, so she probably felt safe and wasn’t being as cautious as before. That’s when I found her eating. When she saw me, she became frightened and lashed out at me, running into the great room, where the other officers shot her. We are fortunate she is still alive.”
Maryanne followed him to the hospital room, where the once grimy, dirty creature had been transformed into a beautiful young woman. Her face was clean and she was wearing a white hospital gown. She still had bruises, and some scrapes visible, and her hands were quite chafed. Her hair was clean and they had cut at least a foot off the length. She looked to be about twenty-four years old, possibly less. Maryanne went to her bedside and took the woman’s clean hand in hers. Her nails, once like claws, had been clipped and filed. The hospital staff had done a remarkable job taking care and cleaning up this lost, misunderstood woman. The woman was still frightened, but starting to realize she was not going to be mistreated. She still wailed with deep, hurtful cries at times, but when Maryanne entered the room, her eyes brightened. She actually tried to speak, but Maryanne could not understand her. She talked to her very gently, and tried to make her feel safe.
The woman, obviously very tired, fell asleep, and then Maryanne left. She had to go home, shower, and get some rest before returning. She was literally exhausted.
“Keep a good watch on her, please,” she spoke to the guards at the door before she left. “I’ll be back early tomorrow morning.” She walked out of the room and to the waiting area where Mario was patiently waiting.
She turned to Mario. “Thank you. I am so glad everyone is taking good care of her. I want to find out who she is and where her family is as soon as possible. Because of her inability to communicate, I hope they don’t incarcerate her.”
“Maryanne, from what the chief has told me, she will be placed in the state facility for care until she can be rehabilitated. They will do everything they can to make her comfortable.”
“I will be able to see her from time to time, I hope. Maybe she will trust me, and I can be helpful with her speaking and understanding. I have the feeling she was able to understand and speak at sometime during her life, but something happened to her, causing her to climb inside herself. A good psychiatrist will be able to determine what has happened to her. I hope she’ll be offered those kinds of help and support.”
“Cheif Olson is a very good man,” Mario began to elaborate, “and I think he will do the right thing in this case. It is such an unusual situation. If we can find out who she is, a lot of important questions would be answered. If you are able to find any information, let us know immediately. And by the way, aside from all of this, we really should get together soon, just the two of us. I think it would do both of us a great deal of good.” Mario kissed her and walked her toward the exit where her car was parked. He opened her door.
She turned to him again. “Yes, we will do that soon, Mario.” She left the hospital for her little house on Mapleton Avenue, where she planned to get a much-needed rest. Mario returned to the station to finish up his paperwork.
Maryanne had tried not to think about the hearing on the property transfer, by the State of Colorado, for the last will and testament of Irene Dirkshire. Mrs. Dirkshire was the legal owner of the Valencia Manor before she died. She had left specific orders in her will to award the Valencia Manor to her. Maryanne was apprehensive about the meeting, feeling there had not been enough research done to be positive it belonged to her. If it all turned out right, and she became the new owner, that would be wonderful, she thought. But somewhere inside her intuitive mind, she knew there was a piece of the puzzle still missing. Tomorrow would tell the tale. She may be the inheritor of the mysterious Manor after all.
The meeting was at eight o’clock. Maryanne showered and went to bed early, wanting to be at her best. She fell asleep quickly after assessing the eventful day. She felt more relaxed and positive than she had for more than a month, since this whole scenario began. She felt free and at peace, knowing that the woman in the hospital was going to be professionally cared for. She would do everything in her power to make sure that was the case.
47
Morning came too quickly. Maryanne was still a little tired, but managed to prepare for this very important meeting. She was out of the house by six thirty looking very chic in a gray, pinstriped suit with an emerald-green, silk blouse. Green always brought out h
er striking eyes. Excitement was emanating from her, like a glowing sun in summer. She decided to take a drive outside town toward the mountains, to get out into the warm sun and fresh air, before the meeting with her attorney. After parking for several minutes on a patch of grass near the road overlooking the mountains, she started up the car and returned to town.
Her attorney, Thomas Deleon, was waiting on a bench by the inside entry of the County Title Office, next to the court room. They shook hands and spoke briefly about the property transfer.
“Maryanne, are you ready to own that amazing property? You look stunning this morning, by the way. Your excitement is radiating from your eyes.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to flirt with me.” She chuckled. “Thank you, for the compliment, Thomas. I am so very happy this is finally going to be done and over with. I never actually thought it would become a reality, yet here we are, and I can’t believe it’s actually happening. It seems like a dream at the end of a long nightmare.”
“Well, it has been a long nightmare, and you did earn it, in a manner of speaking. You were a prisoner there for over two weeks. That ought to be worth something. You deserve it, and then some! Just accept the house and stop worrying about why. Okay?”
Maryanne sighed, “I guess you’re right. Better me than Harold J. Arnold, Right?” She jested.
“Absolutely true. Let’s get it done. The office is over here, and the Judge has already signed the papers. Not much else to do. The title has been searched, and all is legal and complete. It won’t take long.”
They finished their business, and Maryanne received a clear title to the Valencia Manor. She held it up, studying its contents in disbelief. Reading it over and over, she finally slipped it into the envelope provided before they left the building.