The Haunting of Bechdel Mansion: A Haunted House Mystery- Book 2

by Roger Hayden

  “What happened back there, Mary?” Curtis said, gripping the wheel. “Are you all right?”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her eyelids heavy.

  “The hospital,” Curtis said. “This has gone far enough.”

  “Why?” Mary said, rubbing her head.

  Curtis swerved through a curve in the road and glanced at her with surprise. “Look at yourself. You nearly passed out back there again. We’re going to find out why.”

  Theo leaned forward, carefully interjecting. “These visions… sometimes they take their toll on a subject.”

  Curtis glanced in the rearview mirror, not particularly happy. “Theo, with all due respect, I’ve been going along with all of your explanations since you got here. We’re going to have her checked out, and that is final.”

  Mary snapped out of her daze, more alert than ever. “I’m fine, Curtis. I promise.” But she could already see the hospital in view.

  “I don’t care,” Curtis said, keeping his eyes forward.

  “Stop the car,” Mary said.

  Curtis ignored her while increasing his speed.

  “Stop the car!” she repeated.

  Curtis shook his head and slowed down, veering onto the shoulder of the road.

  “The Taylor family,” Theo said from the back. “I know they’re involved with all of this.”

  “It’s worse than you think,” Mary said, looking back and forth between Curtis and Theo, deeply worried. “It’s just like Pastor Phil told me; the conspiracy goes beyond the Taylors. There are others involved, like our realtor, Bob Deckers.”

  Curtis turned his head to her, deeply skeptical. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw him, Curtis,” Mary said, her voice strained. She rubbed her forehead again and sighed.

  The car idled, and Curtis turned back onto the road, shaking his head. “You saw him? What, like in a dream?” he asked.

  “Mayor Taylor is the link,” she answered. “I shook his hand and instantly felt this kinetic energy that unleashed these visions.”

  “You were pretty out of it for a moment there,” Theo added.

  Curtis huffed and shifted the car into gear. “Okay, time to get you checked out.”

  “Please,” Mary said, gripping his arm. “Just… give me a moment.”

  Curtis looked agitated but tried to remain patient. “I don’t want to take any chances, okay? This is serious, and I’m very concerned about you.”

  A semi-truck roared past them, shaking the windows and leaving a burst of air in its wake.

  “I’m fine, Curtis. You have to believe me,” she said. “Bob Deckers murdered Phil, suffocated him with his own pillow. But that’s not all. He was looking for something.”

  “What else did you see?” Theo asked, urging her on.

  Curtis turned and looked out his window, shaking his head. “That’s impossible.”

  “He’s not who he seems,” Mary added. “The mayor wanted us to move into that house, and Deckers worked with him to make it happen.”

  “But… why?” Curtis asked. She could see the stunned conflict in his eyes.

  “I don’t know why just yet,” she answered. “But it all fits some kind of pattern.”

  Curtis glanced into the rearview mirror, feeling a hint of paranoia as Theo leaned forward. “During the service,” Theo began, “I saw a vision of my mother in your house, many years ago. She was there with my uncle and their two friends.” He smacked the seat next to him. “They were there!”

  Mary opened the glove compartment and pulled out the dirty black glove they had found outside Pastor Phil’s house. She handed it to Curtis with conviction in her eyes. “This belonged to Bob Deckers. We should go ahead and take it to the police chief and tell him we found it outside Phil’s house.”

  “Are you sure we can trust him?” Theo asked.

  Mary turned her head back, took the glove from Curtis, and handed it to Theo, who began examining it.

  “That’s what we’re going to find out,” she answered. “Judging by Bob’s reaction to the glove, we’ll know where he stands.”

  “Maybe Deckers had to get out of there in a hurry,” Theo said, enthusiasm building in his eyes. “We should go to Phil’s and investigate. I’m sure more will start coming back to you.”

  Mary nodded. “It’s still a little hazy, but you’re probably right.” She waved both her hands, fanning her face.

  “I want to nail those Taylor bastards,” Theo said, clenching his fist.

  “Enough. Both of you,” Curtis said, reaching for the mysterious glove in Theo’s hands. He then took the glove and sighed. “Let’s not get too carried away. One thing at a time. First, we have Mary checked out. Second, if you really think Bob Deckers had something to do with this, let me talk to him first. I won’t let him know anything, but I can read people pretty well.” He paused and held one finger in the air like a stern father. “Lastly, I want you both to slow it down, and don’t get yourselves in any trouble.”

  Mary quickly interjected. “All we want to do is have a quick look at Pastor Phil’s place. We won’t be there long.”

  “Yeah. We’ll be in and out of there in no time,” Theo added.

  Curtis opened the center console and placed the glove inside, looking up at the eager faces before him. “I’m not a psychic,” he began. “I’m just a lawyer with one client.” After a short breath, he conceded. “There’s something going on in this town, and I want to get to the bottom of it just as much as you. But let’s do this smart. We can’t run around town making wild accusations.”

  Theo nodded. “I’ll tell you one thing, we definitely have the Taylor brothers’ attention now,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Curtis asked.

  “I think they were hired to take out the Bechdels,” Theo said with certainty. “And they’re back in town now for a reason.”

  “And if we’re not careful, we could be next,” Mary added.

  Curtis whipped his head around, confused. “What?”

  “Julie told me that their killers must be brought to the mansion to lift the curse,” Mary said. “We have to do something.”

  Curtis then massaged his temples with a sigh. “I’ve got to be out of my mind to go along with this.”

  Mary turned to him, wanting to gain his support. “We need you.” She then turned to Theo. “We need each other. We can finally bring peace to that house and justice for its victims.”

  Curtis thought to himself with the SUV still idling. The overcast sky gradually shifted from blue to a looming gray. “Why would officials of this town conspire to get us into the house in the first place?” he asked, scratching his chin.

  “That’s what we hope to find out,” Mary said.

  “And what happened to my mother and uncle,” Theo said.

  Curtis looked forward, placing both hands on the wheel with a sigh. “All right. I’m on board. Hospital first, then we’ll look into this.”

  Mary agreed as he drove off, hitting the gas a little harder and, a half mile down the road, turning into the Dover County hospital, a large two-story building that looked to be undergoing renovation with sheets covering some of the windows above and railed platform surfaces surrounding the building. However, the full parking lot indicated business as usual.

  Mary's mind drifted to her earlier research. She recalled that Mayor Taylor had many relatives working for the county who lived in other towns throughout the area. The Taylors were everywhere. His wealth and influence had spread after the Bechdel murders, beginning with his first successful mayoral election against an already deceased George Bechdel—a position that, forty years later, he still retained.

  It was hard to believe that anyone would hold a single office that long without trying to move up the political ladder. Why stay in one place for forty years?

  For Mary, the key was in finding out the root of Mayor Taylor’s power, how he had acquired it, and how much more he had accumulated over the years. The names
most prominent were clear enough: Mayor Taylor and his brothers—Garret, Liam, and Jeffery —Bob Deckers, Pastor Phil, and socialite Beatrice Thaxton. What was the connection? What did they want so badly from Pastor Phil that they had killed him? Or had they?

  Mary scoured her mind for the answers, trying to make sense of what she had seen after shaking Mayor Taylor’s hand at the funeral. Perhaps Julie’s diary would shed more light on her inquiries.

  Mary sat atop an examination table with its vinyl cushioning and paper covering, waiting for the doctor to come back. Medical posters hung from the walls around her, and long, fluorescent lights buzzed above. The doctor had run some tests, took her blood, and checked her pulse and vitals. Two hours had passed since they first arrived.

  So much for a quick visit, she thought.

  The hours lost, she believed, would have been better spent investigating. Though she was a children’s book illustrator and the furthest thing from a detective, Theo’s arrival had revealed elements of her abilities she had never known to be present. She could learn from him. She could harness the psychic energy she was certain existed inside her and use it for good.

  She waited anxiously for the doctor to return as Curtis and Theo sat in the waiting room, most likely bored out of their minds. Theo was still on the payroll, but that didn’t even seem to matter to him anymore. He had grown invested and heavily determined to find out what had happened to his mother.

  As Mary began to learn of Redwood’s strange record of unsolved crimes, and then considered who was running the town, the list of unsolved cases came as no surprise. She had met the chief of police, Chief Riley, and Deputy Ramirez, a few times, and had liked them and felt as if she could trust them. She did wonder: could they possibly be in on the conspiracy too? She hoped that wasn’t the case and was confident that Curtis could get to the bottom of it. Her mind raced as the doctor entered with a chart in hand.

  He wore a green polo shirt, an ID card dangling from a lanyard around his neck, black slacks, and black dress shoes. He was Indian, with thick, dark hair and square-framed glasses. He was clean-shaven and polite and spoke to Mary with a methodical calmness that put her at ease.

  “Everything looks good so far, Mrs. Malone. But I’m still very concerned about these panic seizures your husband talked about.”

  Mary waved him off. “It’s hard to explain, but it almost feels like that’s coming from another part of me.” She moved her hands in a circle around her face and head. “Like some kind of aura that can’t be physically measured. My mother told me that I was unique when I was younger. That what I had, a psychic awareness, sometimes skipped generations. She said that my great aunt was known to possess psychic abilities. Do you believe in that kind of stuff, Doctor?”

  The doctor smiled with nervous laughter while flipping through the pages on his clipboard. “I’m sure the possibilities for all conditions exist out there.” He then looked up, almost as though he was holding something back. “I…” he began with a pause.

  Mary moved her head forward, wide eyed. “Yes?”

  “I’m not aware if you already knew this or not, but you’re… uh, pregnant.”

  The words smacked her across the face, leaving a faint tingling. She’d long had her suspicions, especially after what Phil had told her, but she had showed no signs yet and felt it was still too early to tell.

  “How many weeks?” she asked, barely above a whisper. She wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Looks like you’re still in the first trimester. Congratulations!” His tone changed when he saw the sadness and worry on her face. “Is… is this a planned pregnancy?”

  “Yes and no,” Mary said, shaking her head. She wiped at her tears and stood up, trying to hold in her emotions. “It’s just… so much is going on right now, and I’m very worried.”

  “I understand,” the doctor said. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re in very good health.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, feeling slightly nauseous.

  Julie had mentioned something about the pregnancy, which Mary had dismissed. The spirits in the house were well aware, it seemed, of what she had been denying. She wondered what that meant and why they seemed interested in the first place.

  A child, she thought. A child so soon after the…

  She moved her hand across her stomach, unable to even think of what had happened only a few short months ago. She didn’t want to go through something like that again.

  “Thanks again,” she said, looking up.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, clearly noticing her troubled demeanor. “I have a feeling that you and your husband are going to be very happy.” He smiled and opened the door for her, walking her out to the lobby, where she found Curtis sitting in one of the chairs with one leg resting on his knee and his head down as he scrolled through his phone. The doctor told him that Mary’s vitals were good but to come back immediately if she suffered another “fatigue episode.”

  The doctor then offered his parting words. “Congratulations!” he said, shaking Curtis’s hand. Curtis stood up, confused, as the doctor walked away with a smile.

  “Congratulations?” he asked Mary. “What is he talking about?” His face looked even more perplexed when he noticed Mary’s watering eyes.

  “Oh,” she said nervously. “It’s true, Curtis. I really am pregnant.”

  “What?” he said loudly while holding his chest. “Are you sure?”

  Mary reached out for him, helping him regain his composure. She noticed people in the lobby watching them. “Yes, but keep your voice down.”

  Theo approached with a can of soda, unsure of what had just transpired.

  “You guys okay?” he asked.

  “We’re fine,” Mary said.

  “Mary is pregnant,” Curtis said. He hugged her tightly, and she could feel his warmth against her body.

  “Um… Congratulations,” Theo said, sipping his soda. “I’ll give you guys a minute here and go check out the snack bar.”

  Theo walked away as Curtis released Mary and backed away, his shock all too apparent. “This is big, Mary. I mean, you told me you thought you were pregnant before… but with what Pastor Phil had said and everything…I just…I didn’t know what to think.”

  He pulled her closer for another hug.

  “This is a blessing,” he said softly into her ear.

  “I know,” she said with her voice trailing. “I hope so.”

  Trespass

  Redwood, Indiana, June 25, 1985

  Decades before Curtis and Mary had made the Bechdel home theirs, an incident had occurred there, never to be discovered. Four amateur paranormal investigators were eager to discover the secrets within the mansion, only to face an entity far more dangerous than what they could have imagined.

  “Run…” the whispery voice had warned them. But it was too late.

  The group huddled together quietly, waiting in heightened anticipation, when suddenly a startling pounding shook the front door.

  “Holy shit,” Adam said.

  “Everyone just stay calm,” Ben said. They could barely see a hand in front of their faces as another pounding, this one even louder, caused them to jump.

  “Who's out there?” Adam asked, shifting in his seat and calling out in a panicked tone. “Someone's out there! Who is it?” Another heavy rap followed and the doorframe groaned, as though a SWAT team was trying to break their way in.

  Elizabeth stood up, palms flat on the table, ready to run. “We need to get out of here.”

  Both Scott and Adam rose in haste, grabbing their backpacks. Their chairs squeaked against the dirty tile floor and nearly fell back. Another resounding strike rattled the door on its loosening hinges as its thick wooden panels began to separate from one another.

  Adam held his crowbar up like a baseball bat as Scott took the camera off the tripod. Ben switched his flashlight on and pointed it toward the foyer, where the banging continued.

  “Did you h
ear those voices?” Elizabeth said, backpack over her shoulder, ready to make a break for it.

  For the first time that evening, a collective fear came over the generally fearless group. After a brief silence, the foyer erupted with a blast and several large people stormed into the house, with lights mounted to their rifles shining throughout the room. Adam was the first to bolt, sprinting toward the kitchen in a fury. Elizabeth shielded her face from the weapon lights, squinting. The silhouettes of men emerged, taking positions around the room and closing in on the stunned group.

  “Who are these people?” Scott cried out. “Ben, talk to me.”

  “I don't know…” Ben said, his face pale with worry and fear.

  Lights shined into their faces from all sides as rain continued to pour outside.

  “Don't move!” a man's voice shouted. Their group's hands went immediately into the air as unseen hands grabbed the backs of their shirts and yanked them away from table.

  The armed men threw them against the wall by the staircase. Ben, Scott, and Elizabeth stood there shaking as the weapon lights continued to blind them.

  Adam screamed from afar, emerging into the room with two armed men at his side.

  “Found this one trying to escape out of the garage,” one of the men said to a tall, shadowy figure who had been standing back, watching the proceedings like a detached observer.

  “Easy, assholes!” Adam shouted as he spun around, enraged.

  “What is this all about?” Ben asked the men calmly.

  The group’s eyes adjusted to see that they were surrounded by six men, their faces largely concealed under the shadow of their baseball caps. Having burst into the house from outside, they were wet from the rain. Their apparent leader, with big, broad shoulders and a square jaw of stubble, stepped forward and lit a cigar, blowing smoke in the direction of the group.

  The red glow of his cigar revealed piercing eyes and thick eyebrows arched downward with contempt. A few puffs later, he moved closer to the group and offered them an amiable smile.

  “I don't believe any of you are from around here, are you?” he asked in a low, gravelly voice. He puffed on his cigar long and hard as the group looked at each other, backs against the wall, still reeling from the shock of it all.