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

by Roger Hayden

  “Want me to take over?” she asked.

  His sweaty face looked up, and he shrugged. “I’m good, thanks. Almost there.”

  Mary looked into the hole, four feet wide, a few feet deep, and just as she was about to reach into her pocket for her cell phone, Theo hit something. Metal? It had that sound. He stopped immediately, eyes bright with anticipation. He glanced at Mary, and for a moment, neither of them said a word. Theo dug the shovel into the ground again, striking a metallic object buried exactly where Mary had drawn the circle.

  “This could be it…” he said. “We’re onto something here…”

  Desperate Measures

  Bob and Curtis carried Deputy Ramirez’s lifeless body into the nearby forest through a sparse path and down a slope covered in layers of leaves. Curtis felt strangely removed from what he was doing, as though his mind had taken refuge in the recesses of his subconsciousness. Ramirez was heavy, and they struggled to carry him.

  Holding his ankles, Curtis looked away from the ghost-like face of the deceased deputy, with his eyes rolled back, mouth agape, and a hole in his forehead. Bob said little beyond grunting his demands to move faster as they descended the hill and stumbled toward a narrow gully absent of water that looked like both a ditch and a grave.

  They stopped at the edge of the dark crevice, and Bob heaved and pulled Ramirez by the arms, only to face resistance from Curtis, who held his ankles tight.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Bob said, sweat running down his forehead and his silver hair a tangled nest.

  Curtis straightened his back, defiant. “This man had a family. A wife and children. I’m not going to let you toss him down a hole like this.”

  Bob smirked in amusement. “No offense, Curtis, but I don’t really care what you think at the moment. Now back away.”

  Curtis gripped Ramirez’s ankles tighter and yanked him from Bob’s grasp. “You sick son of a bitch. You killed a police officer for nothing. A good man who had done nothing to you.” He took a step forward and shouted, his voice echoing through the forest. “What could possibly be worth this man’s life? Or Pastor Phil’s life? Have you no soul? What is wrong with you?”

  Bob stared ahead silently, with sunken eyes that said everything there was to say about his state of mind. His pale and worsening appearance were only the visible signs of a man who had embraced the darkest of human tendencies. His moral regression had indeed stunned Curtis, who, before seeing Bob’s true nature, had thought him a boastful but affable man—a good man to have in your corner.

  Now he could see that there was nothing good left in Bob. It was as though he was possessed—an unrecognizable morally destitute being. There was malice in Bob’s frantic eyes, which convinced Curtis that he had never actually known the man.

  “I understand you’re angry, but spare me the lectures,” Bob said. His finger caressed the trigger as he aimed the pistol between Curtis’s eyes. “Keep it up, and you’ll make this all too easy. I could shoot you here and toss you down the hole with Martinez. I’ll get the answers I need from Mary either way.”

  Curtis flinched with the realization that he could very well suffer the same fate as the murdered deputy lying at his feet.

  “I really don’t want to make your wife a widow,” Bob said. “But don’t take that as a weakness. You’re alive right now because I respect you, Curtis, and you might be useful to me. Keep it up though, and that could change really quickly.”

  Silence fell between them, the only sound that of unseen birds cawing in the distance. Mere miles from his house, Curtis had never felt so isolated or helpless. He wanted nothing more than to call Mary, warn her, and tell her to stay as far away from the house as possible. But it didn’t seem as if Bob was going to let that happen, not then, anyway.

  Curtis glared back at Bob, his eyes watering with rage and his crimson face flushed. “I will not allow you to toss his body down there.” It would seem he had made his decision, despite his sense of self-preservation. Curtis took a step forward and pointed down at Ramirez. “Leave him be. What does it matter? In the end, there’ll be no covering this up, no matter how powerful the Taylor family is.”

  Bob sighed; he didn’t care, and this wasn’t worth the fight. “Fine. Drag him over to those bushes, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Curtis felt the compromise was as much as he was going to get and pulled Ramirez’s body toward an oak tree and into a nearby thicket of elderberry bushes. He vowed to somehow return and ensure that Deputy Ramirez’s body was given a proper burial; the shock of it all was still raw in his mind.

  “Hurry up!” Bob said as Curtis did his best to place the body carefully within the brush. “We have to hide that cruiser next, so check his pockets for the keys.”

  A strong cool breeze blew through the woods, causing branches to sway and dead leaves to rustle on the ground. The overcast sky shielded the sun, and Curtis could sense a storm on the horizon. The keys. He had no choice. He felt along Ramirez’s pockets and discovered a key chain clipped to his belt. He pulled the keys off, half wanting to toss them in the ditch and watch Bob jump down after them.

  He wanted nothing more than to leave that terrible forest with the hope that this grim ordeal would soon come to an end. As they trudged up the hill, Curtis turned and glanced at the bushes below where Ramirez lay, concealed from the naked eye. Bob walked slightly ahead of him, and Curtis saw that, for the first time, he wasn’t being carefully watched by his captor.

  For a moment, he felt an opportunity to run from Bob. In his mid-thirties, Curtis was younger and most likely faster than Bob, who looked at least ten years older. Just as they reached the top of the hill, Bob spun around as though he could sense Curtis’s plan.

  “Don’t make me pull this trigger, Curtis. I’m a damn fine shot, and I wouldn’t test me if I were you.”

  Curtis slowly raised his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you do. Now let’s move that cruiser.”

  They approached Ramirez’s abandoned cruiser. Its windows were rolled down, and Curtis could see a notepad in the middle console and a coffee cup wedged in the holder. A police radio mounted below the dashboard crackled with static. There was a shotgun holder affixed to the side of the passenger seat and a closed laptop on the passenger seat.

  Bob opened the passenger door and motioned toward Curtis with his pistol. “You’ve got the keys. Let’s start ‘er up.”

  Curtis opened the door and got in. He put the keys in the ignition and started the engine, feeling a growing sickness in his stomach. He felt like an accessory to murder after the fact and was certain Bob would make that claim regardless.

  Bob pointed past his Volvo, where a puddle of blood remained on the faded pavement of the two-lane road. “Drive. There’s a path ahead.”

  Curtis reluctantly pulled onto the road and passed the Volvo, continuing for about fifty feet until Bob had him veer to the right and toward a clearing in the woods. They drove over dirt mounds, tree stumps, and bushes lying in their path, reaching a shaded area not visible from the road. Bob seemed pleased enough and told Curtis to park.

  “That’s good. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

  Curtis felt his pocket along the bulge of his cell phone. “I need to call Mary. She’s probably worried sick by now.”

  Bob shook his head. “Not yet. You’ll call her when we get back to the house. Everything will run smoothly from there.”

  “She may already be there.”

  “So be it,” Bob said. He then gestured to the forest around them with his pistol—a pistol that Curtis wanted more than anything to grab from him and then put a bullet in his head. “Let’s go.”

  Curtis opened the door and stepped onto soft, leafy ground, staring into the wilderness. Distant thunder rumbled in the sky. The storm was closer than he had thought.

  ***

  Theo tossed aside his shovel in a frenzy as Mary stood back, astonished that they had
actually come across something. She drew closer as Theo dropped to his knees and lunged toward the hole, unearthing a thick metal box with his eager hands as chunks of dirt fell from its top and corners.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Theo carefully balanced the object and set it gently on the ground as Mary stood over it.

  “It’s got some weight to it,” Theo said. He brushed some sand from the front of the box, revealing a combination dial. As he wiped more sand from the surface, he pulled at the carrying handle, but it was locked shut. “It’s a safe,” he told Mary.

  Why would they expect anything less?

  Mary crossed her arms, staring down at their discovery. It was an old-model safe with rust covering areas of the bluish metallic surface. “I guess a shoe box just wouldn’t have been Phil’s style.”

  “I suppose not,” Theo said, smiling. He felt along the surface of the vintage safe—about three cubic feet and seventy pounds—for the combination dial. Their success was bittersweet, since whatever was secured inside was still a mystery, but Mary had a quick suggestion. “If we found the right tools, I’m sure we could get this open.”

  Theo brushed the dirt from its top surface and glanced at Mary with an arched brow. “You ever crack a safe before?”

  “No,” she said. “Have you?”

  “Nah. But how hard could it be?” he said with a shrug.

  “Not too hard. I hope,” she said, though she couldn’t help but feel increasing skepticism of the plan.

  Theo looked around the barn, marveling at the hole before them. “How did you know…?” he asked Mary.

  She thought to herself, uncertain of the right answer. “I just… I trusted my instincts, that’s all.”

  Theo shook his head. “No, this is something else. In a property so big, randomly finding this is a one in a million chance, and you led us right to it.”

  She knew what Theo was getting at. Her abilities, it seemed, were surpassing his. He stated as much as he rose to his feet, brushing sand off his dusty blue jeans. “You’re the real deal, Mary. I have to admit it.”

  She waved him off and turned around to face the barn door. The Taylor brothers had left moments ago, and she didn’t think they’d be coming back anytime soon. She envisioned them prowling the town, desperately searching for them or waiting perhaps blocks away. There seemed to be no escape.

  Perhaps they had no real business unearthing what was in the safe beyond protecting it from outside forces. Maybe it was what Phil would have wanted.

  Theo rolled the combination dial around, hoping to get lucky, and then looked up at Mary. “He never mentioned this thing?”

  Mary turned back and shook her head. “He was going to tell me more. We had barely scratched the surface before he died.”

  “You think he had a hand in guiding you to this? Perhaps he trusted you more than anyone else.”

  Mary said nothing as she paced along the floorboards, disturbing the hay scattered about. Whatever Phil had wanted in the end, Mary still felt a responsibility to get to the truth for Julie. Maybe the contents inside were of no use. But what if they were? Things had gotten complicated, however, with the Taylor brothers out there. They were now in serious danger.

  “We need to go,” she said, and walked to the entryway, lifting the plank locking the barn doors. Theo crouched down and picked up the safe, cradling it like a bowling ball.

  “Is it heavy?” she asked.

  “Not too bad,” Theo said with assurance despite the heave he had given. “Like carrying two bowling balls.”

  Mary looked around, hesitant. “Let’s get this place in order first. Cover our tracks.”

  Theo sighed and set the safe back down. “Very well.”

  They set to rearranging the haystacks, filling the hole back up with dirt, and setting the floorboard back in place. Minutes later, they left the barn, feelings satisfied enough that their tracks were covered.

  As they cautiously approached Mary’s SUV, they noticed glass lying on the ground at the rear. No surprise. They’d heard the attack. A large rock lay in the back seat, launched through the back window by Jeffery Taylor. The Taylors had sent a clear message and could return at any time. Mary was surprised to look down and see her tires intact. Perhaps the Taylor brothers wanted her to drive off. Their search would be over, and it would be easy to ambush them.

  She kept a careful eye on their surroundings as Theo set the safe in the back seat, covering it with a towel. Traveling into town seemed risky, but they needed to get the safe open somehow, even if that meant just locating the proper tools.

  “Any real ideas on how to get that safe open?” Mary asked as she backed out and drove away.

  “I’m thinking,” Theo responded, gripping the armrest as they bounced along the uneven dirt road. “I’ve seen them do it in the movies. All we need is a welder and a crowbar.”

  Mary laughed to herself, enjoying the shared excitement between them. “Is that it? I guess we’re in luck. How about some goggles, a helmet, maybe?”

  “Sounds good; I like goggles,” he said lightly.

  Theo pulled the .45 caliber from his pocket and held it in both hands, examining its shiny surface. His mood changed. “If I find out those Taylor bastards had anything to do with my mother’s disappearance, I’ll shoot them dead with their own pistol.”

  They reached a paved two-lane road, and Mary turned left, ten miles from downtown. She was prepared to take the risk.

  “We’re not killers,” she said. “And that’s not why I’m doing this. Whoever killed the Bechdel and Drake families and Pastor Phil needs to face justice in a court of law. They need to be held accountable for what they did. Killing them… well, that’s just an act of vengeance.”

  Theo ejected the magazine from the pistol and held it up, inspecting the rounds inside. “You’re kind of naive, Mary, but I understand where you’re coming from.”

  “I’m understand your anger,” she said. “But let’s play it safe for now, okay?”

  He slapped the magazine back into the pistol and slipped it inside his jacket. She could sense the inherent risk of walking around downtown, completely exposed. The mayor would most likely have lookouts posted everywhere. The Taylor brothers could be waiting for them nearby, watching their every move. Despite all that, she wasn’t going to be afraid. She would face them head on. Everything, she felt, now relied on her determination to do so.

  ***

  The autumn festival was in full swing, and Mary felt luckily inconspicuous with all the activity going on around them. The distracted crowd and the entertainment afforded them the perfect opportunity to move through downtown undetected—that was if they hadn’t already been seen. Mary took the back roads and detours back to where they had dropped Curtis off.

  With Bob Deckers’s corner office in view, she felt unease in the pit of her stomach. There was an ominous aura surrounding them, in addition to their unanswered questions, starting with Curtis’s silence on the phone. She hadn’t heard from him for what seemed like hours.

  Staring at Bob’s undisturbed office created further distress. He and Bob couldn’t possibly still be talking, could they? She called Curtis’s number again, frustrated by the fifth ring, and then left a message that couldn’t hide her growing worry. “We’re outside Bob Deckers’s office, and we need to get home as soon as possible. We’re going to look for you on foot now. Call me.” She hung up with an exhausted sigh.

  With his eyes on the gray, five-story building in front of them, Theo could feel Mary’s growing anxiety. “Everything okay? When was the last time you heard from him?”

  Mary pulled forward and drove past the building, approaching the adjacent pizza shop. She slowed a bit passing Bob Deckers’s tinted windows, and then sped past the pizza place, turning into an alleyway. For the moment, they were out of sight from any passing vehicles. “We haven’t spoken since we dropped him off. I’ve missed a bunch of his calls and text messages, but even those stopped about thirty
minutes ago. Now he’s not answering the phone.”

  “What was the last thing he said to you?” Theo asked.

  Mary looked at him with deep worry in her strained, blue eyes. “He told me that Deckers had just arrived, and that he was going in to talk to him.”

  Theo cupped his chin, thinking. “They could just be having a long talk. Your husband is a lawyer, you know,” he teased gently.

  She nodded and drove slowly toward a large green dumpster, parking directly behind it and concealing her vehicle from view. She felt confident enough that the Taylors wouldn’t be searching the alleyways.

  If anything, they already knew who she was and were scoping out her home. But she and Curtis had a gate and a newly installed security system. That had to count for something.

  She shut off the ignition and told Theo that they’d be on foot, at least until they found Curtis. There was trouble of some kind; it wasn’t like Curtis to ignore her calls. She felt drained after fleeing for their lives at Phil’s farm and then unearthing the safe.

  All of it was so much that her keen foresight wasn’t on par with what it usually was. And there were other complications. Theo seemed distracted by the safe sitting in the back, eager to recover its contents. He didn’t even want to leave the vehicle, and she couldn’t blame him, but finding Curtis was the most important thing.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Maybe we could hide it somewhere for the time being.”

  Mary stepped out of the car, looking around. “We’ll only be gone for a few minutes. Trust me.”