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

by Roger Hayden

  “I don’t know…” Mary said. She set the bag of cash aside, unconcerned about counting it. It looked to be a few thousand dollars, if that. Her main interest was the contents inside the folders. Theo watched patiently as she untied the drawstring around the file folder, its contents nearly spilling out.

  Though it was initially overwhelming, it didn’t take long for them to figure out what Pastor Phil had been hiding. There were years, decades even, of investigative reports done by Phil—typed documents, written logs, journal entries, and damning black-and-white photographs of all the major players in town.

  He had pictures from outside other mansions and people Mary didn’t recognize, and others that she did. There were photos of Beatrice Thaxton, Bob Deckers, and most importantly, Mayor Taylor.

  She was even more disturbed to find photos taken from outside, through the windows of what appeared to be the mayor’s mansion, party guests inside, dressed strangely in cloaks and robes. Many of them were wearing animal masks—pagan-like, with horns and antlers. The pictures got increasingly disturbing as the costume party soon descended into a debauchery of naked bodies converging upon one another in a kind of wild orgy. Mary nearly dropped the pictures in shock.

  Theo lifted his head from several documents he was scanning. “This is incredible. It looks like Phil was trying to build a case, not only against the Taylors, but everyone involved in the murder conspiracy.”

  His eyes widened when Mary handed him the pictures she had just looked at. “What the hell?” he said, grabbing them.

  “He was spying on the mayor. For how many years, it’s not clear.”

  She glanced down at an open notebook and read the first part of his written log. It detailed the time and the activity of Mayor Taylor and his entourage. Apparently, the mayor would host extravagant parties for powerful people from everywhere near and far, across the country.

  Redwood, it seemed, was a refuge for the upper-crust crazies. They could do anything and not have to worry about exposure or consequences. It was a crooked operation, as Phil explained in his writings, even more so given the certainty of Mayor Taylor’s certain alleged involvement in the Bechdel murders.

  “I don’t understand,” Theo said. “Why would he sit on all of this and just let the mayor run things? He could have easily gone to the press.”

  Mary immediately thought of Phil’s wife and kids. Maybe her death and his children’s disappearances weren’t some unfortunate circumstance after all. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  Theo took the next folder and opened it, taking immediate interest. “Hello, what’s this?”

  Mary tied the file folder back together and turned to Theo as he thumbed through the next folder, stunned. “I can’t believe this,” he continued. “This is your house.”

  “What?” Mary said, leaning toward him.

  “It’s a bunch of pictures of your house!”

  Theo handed Mary a dozen glossy black-and-white photos of all sides of the mansion. The photos looked old, and there was crime scene tape everywhere. She assumed that he had taken the photos not long after the murders. Theo flipped through more photos when a sealed baggie fell from inside the folder and hit the floor of the car. Mary reached for it and saw that it contained an old skeleton key—at least she assumed by its design. Things were certainly getting interesting.

  “Mary,” Theo said, pulling a large folded sheet from the file, “this looks like a map of your house.”

  She took the paper and unfolded it, revealing a map of sorts—a blueprint, even. Her eyes trailed over the paper, and she took notice of a path to a lower level of the mansion that neither she nor Curtis knew existed.

  Theo set the folder down and read from another paper that had gained his attention. “Here, listen to this.” He cleared his throat and began reading. “Dear Phillip, you have been such a wonderful source of guidance for our family. I’ll never know how to truly repay you. As you know, there are few people that we can currently trust. Word has gotten out, and our family fortune may soon be gone. The fortune has been passed down the line for generations. I would ask that if anything were to happen to us that you take the role of protector, not only of our home, but also the vast fortune that is hidden below.

  “I have not touched a single golden coin, for legend has it that the fortune brought a curse through my ancestors’ robbery of a pagan elder. Yes, it is crazy to consider such a fantastical story, but as I write this letter to you in haste, I can sense an end to things coming very soon.

  “Once we are all gone, I believe the curse will be lifted, and you can enrich yourself with something my family should never have had in the first place. It is the least I can do. I’ve provided a map and key to the catacombs below our house, located so deep that not even the most modern excavation team would locate it without this help. Thank you again, Phil. Best wishes to you and your family. Pray for us. Your friend, George Bechdel.”

  Theo froze with the letter held tightly in both hands. Mary was beside herself, trembling in the silence. Nearby trees rustled from an approaching breeze as she grappled with their new discovery.

  “Do you think any of that’s true?” Theo asked.

  “I don’t know, but it would certainly explain what the Taylor brothers were looking for.”

  Without further hesitation, Mary grabbed the file folder and handed Theo the rest. “Here. You take this half. I’ll hold onto this. If this is what it takes to get Curtis back, I’ll give them everything.”

  Theo took the folders and the bag of cash and then stopped Mary. “Hold on, I have an idea.” She smiled. “Yes,” he said, “another idea.”

  He set everything down and kneeled, cupping a handful of sand. He then rose and tossed the sand inside the safe.

  “What are you doing?” Mary asked.

  “We don’t have to give them anything. Just the safe. We fill it up with dirt, you hand it over, and the rest is between them and Phil.”

  Mary’s worried face seemed somewhat unconvinced. “Yes, but what if they demand the rest?”

  “There is no ‘rest.’ They’ll think that we couldn’t open it.” Theo took the file folder from her hand. “I’m going to take it all with me. I’ll hide it under your gazebo for the time being. That way, if anything happens to me, you’ll know where it is.”

  Theo’s plan made sense, but Mary still had her worries. “I don’t know. I feel like we’re playing with fire here.”

  Theo kneeled down and scooped up another handful of sand, tossing it inside the safe. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mary. They’re the ones playing with fire.”

  A Compromise

  Bob Deckers stared out the window through the curtains, eagerly awaiting Mary’s arrival, gripping his pistol at his side. He placed his hand on the window and breathed against its surface. The moment he was waiting for was nearing. It was falling together in ways he couldn’t ever have planned or imagined. There was a distant rumbling in gray, overcast sky. Soon there would be rain the likes of which they couldn’t have imagined.

  Curtis sat tied to the chair, facing the opposite direction, trying to maintain his stamina despite his throbbing head and slipping consciousness. Fearing that he would pass out soon, he yanked at the rope around his ankles and wrists repeatedly with all the strength he had left. “Enough of this,” he said. “Untie me now!”

  Bob turned from the window in response. “Why would I do that? So you can try to attack me again and then get pistol-whipped?” He paused with a laugh. “I’m not sure you can take another hit, Curtis, so I’m going to have to say no.”

  “Untie me!” Curtis shouted.

  Bob watched with quiet amusement as Curtis thrashed around. “Calm down before you give yourself a heart attack,” he said.

  “You son of a bitch,” Curtis seethed.

  Bob slowly approached from behind with his pistol out. “Do we really need to go through this again? I told you that we’d work all of this out once Mary got here. What’s the problem?�
��

  “Why us?” Curtis asked. “You or the mayor or anyone else could have taken this house and done whatever you wanted to it. Why involve us in the first place?”

  Bob stopped directly behind Curtis and put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a complicated story. I think I’ll let the mayor explain that once he gets here.”

  “The mayor?”

  “That’s right. He’s taken a special interest in you two. Well, more so Mary than you. We did our research. Mary has a gift, and she’s going to help us.”

  “Why on earth would she help the two of you do anything?” Curtis asked.

  “She wants to live, doesn’t she?” Bob said. “And I’m sure she wants you to live as well.”

  Curtis shook his head, his short hair sticking out wildly in all directions. He had thick bruises on his face. “So that’s it? Threaten us with our lives like a couple of thugs?”

  Bob sighed. “Call it what you want. In the end, the mayor is going to get what he wants.”

  They heard the sound of a vehicle from the courtyard, its tires running across the concrete as its engine hummed. Bob went immediately to the window, peeking out cautiously. Twenty feet from the window sat the Ford Expedition, with Mary at the wheel.

  “Excellent,” Bob said. “Now we can begin.”

  ***

  Mary observed Bob’s blue Volvo parked outside their home with nervous trepidation. She was relieved to see no other vehicles, for she had little clarity on who was inside the house besides Curtis and Bob. She picked up her cell phone and called Curtis again, fully expecting Bob to answer, which he did after three rings with a simple, “Hello, Mary.”

  “I’m outside,” she said.

  “I know. I can see you.”

  She looked at the front windows of the house and could see his figure watching her from the ballroom.

  “Who else is in there?”

  “Just me for now.”

  The “for now” struck her as an ominous hint of things to come. “How do I know I’ll be safe when I go inside?”

  “Nothing will happen to you as long as you cooperate.”

  “Where’s Curtis?” she asked.

  “He’s right here with me. Come on in. We’re both waiting for you.”

  “Okay,” she said, hanging up the phone.

  The thought of Curtis in peril upset her beyond words. She took her purse, feeling the weight of her .38 inside, and then opened her door. She thought of Theo and hoped he could sneak into the house undetected and help her subdue Bob.

  She didn’t have the upper hand just yet and would have to play along. She grabbed her keys and stepped out of the SUV to an eerie silence that permeated the courtyard. Their nearby fountain remained empty, along with dozens of unfinished projects around the house. She wondered if she and Curtis would still live at the Bechdel mansion after everything was over—if it ever was going to be over.

  Bob moved away from the window in the distance as she approached the steps to the front door, having little awareness of what the situation was waiting inside. She tried to envision it but could only see empty rooms with an unseen, angered presence gaining momentum. The spirits were back. She could feel them roaming about.

  Her hands gripped the elegant handle of their French double doors as she pulled them open. A creaking followed, alerting anyone in the house to her presence. There were no lights on beyond the foyer, and the gray clouds overhead only made things darker. It seemed as though every curtain in the house was drawn, the better to conceal the activity going on.

  Mary thought of Chief Riley and how she regretted not calling him the moment they found Deputy Ramirez’s car. Curtis’s safety, however, was her chief concern. She would not gamble with his life. The chief would know everything soon enough, or so she hoped.

  Mary walked through the foyer with caution as the staircase came into view. To her right was the vast space of the ballroom where she saw Curtis sitting in the darkness, tied to a chair, head bobbing down, with Bob nowhere to be seen. She ran to Curtis immediately and fell to her knees in front of him. His battered face shocked and horrified her.

  “Curtis, oh my God, what happened to you?”

  He lifted his head up with a faint smile as she touched his knees. “I’m okay. Glad to see you…”

  “You’re not okay,” she said, running her hands to his back, where his wrists were tied. “What is this? What has that monster done to you?”

  “What I had to,” Bob’s voice called out from behind her.

  She swung her head around to see him standing in the lounge doorway with his pistol aimed at them. “He’ll live. Now what I need you to do is sit tight until the other guests arrive, and then we’ll iron all of this out.”

  Mary rose with one hand on Curtis’s leg, glaring at Bob with disgust. “You’re a sick man. I’m ashamed we ever trusted you.”

  Bob waved her off with a shrug. “I’m not that bad. Heck, I’m not even going to tie you up. But if you step out of line, you’ll leave me no choice.”

  “Go to hell,” she seethed. “You killed Pastor Phil, didn’t you? Why?”

  He walked toward her, shoes clicking against the floor, and motioned to an empty chair he had placed next to Curtis. “It was nothing personal, and neither is this.”

  “I saw Deputy Ramirez’s cruiser on my way here, all tucked away in the woods. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bob said matter-of-factly.

  “I think you do. Chief Riley said he hadn’t heard from the deputy in over an hour, right after putting an APB out on a blue Volvo—your blue Volvo.”

  Bob shrugged. “Not a clue.”

  “Yes, you do,” Curtis said with gritted teeth.

  Mary turned to Curtis shocked. “What happened?”

  “Sit down and shut up,” Bob said, aiming the pistol at her.

  Mary stood defiantly, thinking of her .38, but it was no time for a shootout, at least when Bob had a careful eye on both of them.

  “I’m only going to ask once,” he said.

  She moved to Curtis’s left side, rubbing his back, and then sat with her eyes locked on Bob.

  “Place your purse on the ground in front of you,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Call it a precaution,” he answered.

  “I’m not giving you my purse,” she said, gripping it.

  Bob pointed the pistol above him and fired a single shot into the ceiling, blasting a hole through it, and small chunks of drywall fluttered down. The cannon-like blare of his .45 nearly knocked Mary out of her chair. Curtis’s head jolted up, his eyes wide and discolored face sweating.

  “The hell is wrong with you?” Curtis shouted.

  “I’m sick of asking your wife a second time to do things.” He then pointed the hot barrel directly at Curtis. “The next time she gives me lip, I’ll shoot you.”

  “Okay!” Mary said, slightly trembling. She stood and placed her purse on the floor, just out of reach.

  Bob rushed toward Mary’s beige purse like a hawk and kicked it away from her, looking up suspiciously as it slid against the wall. “Gee, Mary. I felt a little weight in there. What do you have in there? Are you packing?”

  “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

  Bob smiled. “Exactly,” he said, walking to the purse. For a moment, his back was turned, and Mary thought of slamming his head against the wall just to knock him out. But no such action would happen. He was armed, and they weren’t. It was as simple as that.

  “I’d appreciate you staying out of my personal belongings, please,” she said.

  Curtis looked up with similar contempt. “Leave her purse alone.”

  In response to them both, Bob unzipped the purse and pulled it open with his eyes widening in great interest. “Mary… I’m stunned.” He pulled the .38 out and held it out, dangling it by the handle with two fingers. “You’re a little badass, aren’t you?”

  Mary felt crushingly po
werless at the sight. “I always carry that on me. We used to live in the city.”

  Bob stood up and placed the .38 in the back of his pants. “I’m sure you do. For now, I’ll hold onto it for safekeeping. At least until our business is done.”

  “Do you have intentions of keeping us alive?” Mary asked, her face flushed with anger. “Or do you plan to discard us like Pastor Phil?”

  Bob stepped forward, pondering the question as Curtis cut in. “Don’t talk to him anymore, Mary.”

  “To answer your question,” Bob loudly interrupted, “it’s not entirely up to me. That’s the mayor’s call.”

  “The mayor?” Mary said as her eyes narrowed. “I knew it.”

  “Of course you did,” Bob continued. “And the mayor now knows that you know. He’s not very happy, having to unexpectedly leave the autumn festival in the middle of a speech so he can come here, but he’s been waiting for this moment a long time.”

  “What are you rambling about?” Mary asked.

  “Mary, please,” Curtis said. “Just leave it be.”

  Bob took several assured steps closer, staring them down. “Mary, you were chosen for a reason. You’ve been here before, right here in this mansion when you were only a child.”

  Bob’s claim shook Mary to her core. She would have dismissed him immediately had Phil not alluded to the same thing during their last conversation.

  “Back then,” Bob said, “I was just a kid living in Dallas, but apparently, your parents were once interested in purchasing this mansion. The year was 1986, and you were the first person to ever make contact with them.”

  “Who?” Mary asked.

  Bob shook his head. “I think you know who I’m talking about. The mayor found out all about you. He knew then as he knows now that the Bechdel estate was cursed. What he needed was someone who could help him use it to his benefit.”

  “That’s insane,” Mary said with her arms out. “I don’t remember ever being here before in my entire life.”

  “Of course you don’t. You weren’t here long. My predecessor in the realty business showed your parents around. Already, he could see the strange connection you had with the house. You were talking to thin air. At some point, you wandered off and then, much to your parents’ horror, you fell down the stairs.”