“You couldn’t sleep either?” she asked.
“Nope.” I shook my head.
“I know you’re freaked out about all this. But I also know it’s going to be okay. Margaux has told me a lot of stories similar to yours of people who she has helped. And of ghosts she has helped, too.”
“Sounds flakey.”
“She’s the real thing and you have real ghosts. So, let her help you. Leave it to a professional. She’ll get rid of them.”
“I hope you’re right. I like my little cottage. It’s cheap and comfortable.”
“Except for the ghosts haunting you day and night.”
“Right. Except for that.”
We left the house a little before nine. My cottage wasn’t too far away from Elizabeth’s place. Elizabeth dropped me off at the front door while she watched Trenton and Missy. “Good luck,” she said, as she left with the kids.
“Thanks.” I unlocked the front door and decided to make some coffee before the paranormal team arrived. The cottage felt a little off, or maybe it was just me feeling uneasy. I pressed the start button on the coffee pot and had a seat at the kitchen table. Trying to shake my nerves, I flipped through an old issue of Good Housekeeping.
When I heard the knock on the door, I nearly jumped out of my seat. I was a little more nervous than I expected. Closing the magazine, I walked to the door and opened it.
A small woman with short blonde hair greeted me at the door. “Hi, I’m Margaux.”
“Hello, I’m Jodie. Come in, please.”
Margaux followed me inside the house.
“Is it just you?” I asked. “Or will your team be joining you?”
“It’s just me for now. I usually like to get a feel for the house before I bring everyone else over.”
“Do you feel anything in the cottage?” I asked eagerly.
“There is a very hostile feeling about this place. I haven’t quite figured it out yet. But don’t worry. I will before I leave. I’m going to ask you some questions about the cottage.”
“Okay.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“My son and I have lived here about three months.”
“Is it just the two of you here?”
“Yes.”
“When was the first time you felt something that you felt might be a ghost?”
“I saw a woman in the kitchen a little while after we moved in. She was crying a lot.”
“Did this woman harm you?”
“No, not at all. I felt very sad for her. Shortly after that, I saw a young boy ghost playing with my son’s toys. Then the night before last, I saw the same woman in the mirror.”
“Have any of the spirits ever said anything to you?”
“Yes. When I saw the woman in the mirror, she asked me to help her find the truth.”
“Does that mean anything to you, Jodie?”
“At the time it didn’t. But I did some research at the library and I think she may want me to help solve her murder.” I grabbed the printed copies of the newspaper articles out of my purse and handed them to Margaux to read.
She read them very closely and then set them down on the coffee table. She relaxed her body and closed her eyes. After a few long breaths, she finally spoke.
“Jodie, Debbie is here with us right now. She wants to thank you for helping her. She and her son and husband have been trapped here since their deaths. They are torn between here and the other side. She also wants to thank you for bringing your son here. Bryce loves having a friend to play with.”
“Wow, what else do you know?” I asked.
“There is another spirit joining her—it is a male spirit. I believe it is her husband, Cliff. Yes, it is Cliff. He is a mean, horrible guy. I’m beginning to feel sick to my stomach with him here. He doesn’t want Debbie to talk to me. He’s pushing her out of the way. She’s fighting him, but he is bigger and stronger than her. He’s very negative and she’s very vulnerable.”
Suddenly, the lights in the house went out.
I froze. “What’s going on?” I yelled.
“Don’t be afraid, Jodie. He wants us to fear him, but Cliff’s nothing but a giant coward.”
The chandelier in the dining room crashed on the floor and items were thrown from the bookshelf. I was shaking with terror, but I tried to be strong.
Margaux concentrated hard as the cottage was being torn apart.
“Margaux, can you make him stop? They’re wrecking the cottage! And I’m so scared.”
“Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you anymore. Go to the light. Bryce is here and he is scared of his father. His father has hurt him and his mother so many times. He is scared to go to the light. Debbie, take your son’s hand and go to the light. I promise you will be okay. I promise, trust me. Move past Cliff and take your boy into the light.”
I watched Margaux in awe as she passed the mother and son over to the other side. I saw them as streaks of soft light going into this brighter light that opened like a window in the middle of the room.
I was gasping in surprise.
“They have gone, they have passed over. Now for you, Cliff. You need to cross over, too. You are no longer part of this world anymore. You need to leave. It is time!”
The lights came back on and began to flicker. I hovered in the corner of the living room, hugging myself. And then it was over. The bright light faded away.
Margaux turned to me. “Cliff is gone. Now, they are all gone. There is no one left in the cottage but us.”
I looked up and began to cry. I couldn’t help myself. I felt so sorry for the mother and son. There was a banging on the door and it made us both jump.
“Who is it?” I yelled. I was terrified.
“It’s Ray.”
“Come in.”
He opened the door and ran in with a fire extinguisher. “What in the world is going on over here? I saw this bright light from across the road and I thought the place was on fire.”
“There’s no fire,” I explained. “It was a bright light.”
Margaux walked to Ray and took his hand. “My name is Margaux. I am a psychic and Jodie asked me to come here to deal with spirits in the house. I have sent them into the light and now the house is no longer haunted.”
“That’s good.” He sighed. “Finally.”
“But, Ray, I need to speak to you about Debbie and Bryce.”
The color left Ray’s face as Margaux guided him to the couch to sit down.
“I know what you did, Ray. Debbie told me. You don’t have to hide your awful secret any longer.”
Ray put his head in his hands and began to sob.
“I had to do it. He was my brother and I owed it to him.”
“Where’s the gun now, Ray?” Margaux asked.
I gasped, wondering what he would say. My heart was in my throat.
He admitted, “After it happened, I threw it in a lake a few towns over.”
“She loved you, Ray. You know that right, that Debbie loved you?” Margaux asked.
“Yes, I do. I loved her, too. She should have never been with that son of a bitch. I would have done anything for her and her beautiful boy. They were my heart. We had something special between us. A connection. It was beautiful and rare to feel that close to another person. And to the boy.”
“Can you tell me about what happened that night?”
“I was waiting in the car for Debbie. That morning, we had told Cliff that we had been having an affair for years and that Bryce was my son. He flipped out and took Bryce and ran. When he finally came home with him, Debbie thought it was best for her to go in alone and get our little boy. Cliff had told her that he just wanted to talk to her and then he would give Bryce back. It seemed reasonable enough.”
“Oh no,” I said, guessing at what was coming.
He gulped. “I shouldn’t have trusted my brother. I shouldn’t have let her go in there alone. I should have gone in with her. Maybe I could have prevented her death. And
my little boy’s.”
Margaux put her hand on his forearm in a comforting way. “What happened when she went in there?”
Tears streamed down his face and neck. “I heard three gunshots. And my world collapsed.”
He took several deep breaths, as if he had been running. “I ran in but it was too late. All three of them were dead in less than a few seconds. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want my brother to be remembered as a man who had killed himself and his family. I did love him and felt bad about what I did to him. I felt bad about what I drove him to. So, I got rid of the gun.”
I listened to the story in amazement. It all seemed so surreal.
Margaux leaned in and gave Ray a hug as he sobbed as if the sounds were heaved up out of his soul and tossed into the room.
The only haunted person left in that cottage was Ray, and he was alive.
Chapter Twelve
“Well, this is the last box,” I said to Elizabeth.
“I can’t believe you guys are actually moving from that great little shabby chic cottage with the garden. After all, the ghosts are gone.”
“I feel we need a fresh start. And Ray, poor Ray. He can’t even look me in the eye because I know his terrible secret.”
“All right. I can understand that. The truck is packed and ready to go. Nice of him to give you a household of stuff.”
“Yeah, he’s generous to a fault. Just a minute, Liz. I want to say goodbye to Ray.”
I walked across the street to Ray’s house and found him on his porch carving a little toy bird. It was beautiful.
“I made this for my little buddy.” He handed it to me.
“Aw, thank you.” I turned the bird over and over in my hands. “You make beautiful things with your hands.”
“It’s my one saving grace,” he said. “A little art talent.”
I felt so bad for him. He looked like he was sad to be losing us as tenants. “I just wanted to say thanks for letting us stay here. I loved the cottage. It’s so comfy.”
“I should be the one thanking you.” He set down his carving tools and walked closer toward me. I opened my arms and he gave me a long hug. “Thanks to you and all that hocus pocus, I am free of my demons. I also owe you and Margaux huge debt of gratitude for not going to the cops about what I did with the gun.”
“You didn’t shoot them. And you were just trying to protect your brother’s name, not your own reputation. If you had tried to explain to the police, they might have turned it around on you and tried to charge you with a crime. Like concealing evidence or something. At the very least.”
Ray nodded.
“Not that you asked me, but as far as I can tell, you loved someone you shouldn’t have loved. She wasn’t yours to love. But the person who should have loved her…didn’t.”
He nodded sadly.
I got kind of choked up. “I think you’re a good man, Ray. I wish you all the best and true happiness when you are ready to find it.”
“You are a nice woman, Jodie. The ghosts are gone, so, tell me the truth. Are you really moving out because you don’t want to feel anything for me?”
I nodded. “It’s too soon after my divorce. I need to take care of myself and my son. I admit it, I am drawn to you, but it’s for the wrong reasons. Can you understand where I’m coming from?”
“You pity me, don’t you, Jodie?”
“Of course! I have compassion. It was a terrible tragedy. You didn’t pull the trigger, but you carry the guilt because you think you caused it.”
“I did cause it,” he said miserably.
“Can I tell you something about domestic violence?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“The victims always think that it’s their fault. And even though Debbie and Bryce died, and you didn’t, you are still a victim, too.”
“That’s true.”
“But you didn’t make that happen, Ray. I mean, you had an affair with Debbie, but didn’t you only do it after she was already being abused by Cliff?”
“Yes, and she saw me as a hero and a mediator. Long before I ever kissed her, I saved her life a hundred times from Cliff.”
“See? You were a bright spot in her life, Ray. Without you, she would have died long before she did.”
He nodded. “You’re very kind, Jodie. And you understand a lot about what happened that other people wouldn’t. Did someone abuse you, too?”
“Yeah, but I got out before I got killed. If my ex does anything to me now, he will go directly to jail because he has done it before. I am not putting up with that, not ever again, and Frank is even skating on thin ice for getting to see our son. He has to pee in a cup for the cops every month to make sure he isn’t drinking or using drugs.”
“I could be your hero,” he said softly.
“I won’t let you, Ray. With a small son and a demanding teaching career, I am not equipped to be there for you to deal with this kind of tragic life event and the fallout from it. Not that I haven’t thought about it. About you. You’re very kind, but my child has to come first—I have to give everything to him and make sure he has a safe home and a happy life. Can you understand that?”
“Yes.”
“And I have kind of a squirrely ex-husband, too. He’s unpredictable when he drinks, okay when he doesn’t, but there are no guarantees that he won’t show up someday drunk and try to take Trenton and disappear with him. Or hurt us. Or you. Or all of us.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“That is exactly why I have to leave here, Ray. I don’t want Frank to come here thinking that there is something is between us and then have history repeat itself. As it often does, you know?”
“Thank you, pretty lady. You think ahead very well.”
I nodded. “I have to. That’s what mothers do. And…you’re welcome. Take good care of yourself. Try to forgive yourself. Find your peace.”
“I don’t know if I can. I’ve lost so much. But I’ll try.”
“You are worthy of a great love, Ray. Never forget that.”
Tears misted his eyes. “So are you, Jodie. So are you.”
I smiled at him and we waved goodbye. I walked over to the moving truck and told Elizabeth that we could leave now.
“You sure you want to do this?” she asked.
“Yeah, I already signed a contract with my new school and I can’t live in that cottage another day, knowing what happened in there. And I don’t want anything violent to happen between Ray and Frank. I can see the handwriting on the wall. The smartest thing to do is bail out before I get in any deeper.”
“I think Ray was a little in love with you and Trenton.”
“I’m not blind to that, but I can’t live in another woman’s shadow like that, Liz. And I sure as heck won’t make my kid into a replacement son for Ray, either.”
“You have some guts, lady,” Liz said and started the truck.
“Thanks for helping me find them, Liz. Let’s hit the road.”
Liz took off in the rental truck as I followed behind her in my car with the kids in the back seat, playing with Bryce’s old toys. Buck, the puppy, sat nicely secured in his dog seat and looked out the front passenger window, his ears flapping in the breeze.
I looked in the rearview mirror one last time.
Ray—and the cottage—got smaller and smaller in the mirror as I left that part of my life behind.
The End
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TELEPHONE TERROR
A thriller by
Lindsey Stiles
Telephone Terror
Published by Lindsey Stiles
Copyright © 2013 by Lindsey Stiles
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Telephone Terror
Chapter One
On
the twenty-fifth anniversary of her mother’s murder, Nikki drove to their old house.
It was the first time since her mother had died that she’d visited the home they had once shared as a happy family.
Now, there was only Nikki and her sister left. Their grandparents, who had also passed away, had raised them after their mother had died and their dad had disappeared on that same horrific day.
Sighing, Nikki pulled over and parked her car across the street from their old Victorian house. The yard looked like every other yard on the street: neat, manicured, perfect. The grounds were a stark contrast to the condition of the house. The house, once grand, now looked forlorn. She hadn’t expected the house to be vacant, but from her view of the torn green drapes in the living room window, it obviously was. A chill ran through her as she recognized the drapes from her childhood. Nikki had memories of those drapes swaying in the breeze of a rotating fan while her parents played records and danced together.
Nikki shut off the engine and got out of her car. Keys in hand, she stood on the sidewalk across the street, staring, her heart hammering and her breathing shallow. Yes, she was having a panic attack, but she knew she could overcome it. The important thing was not to run or let herself start screaming.
She was dismayed, though, at the paint peeling off in large sections, the screen door dangling askew by one hinge, and a few broken windows. Leaves clogged the rain gutters and the gingerbread trim on the second story was pulling away from the nails. The only thing that looked decent about the home was that the lawn was mowed, the walnut trees were professionally trimmed and the flowerbeds were full of gently blowing pansies. One odd thing stood out. A shiny plastic “For Sale by Owner” sign was planted in the front yard.
Nikki crossed the quiet suburban street and stood in the grassy front yard. If only the house could talk and tell her what had really happened that day. Both she and her sister had undergone a lot of therapy, but they had just been too young to understand or remember. Everything was forgotten, except for the fear. Years later, that fear remained her constant battle.
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