Blackvine Manor Mystery

by Wendy Meadows

George slumps his shoulders, “Why do you care if he believes you? After everything that’s happened it seems like he is never going to change his mind.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s just I can’t stand knowing the truth and having him ignore it.”

  She sits up and opens the thick file Otto kept on Collin Fenton. “Help me sort through this. If we can find all the mentions of the stolen jewelry, I think I can find the proof I need.”

  He slides on to the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table and grabs a stack of paper. “What am I looking for?”

  “Pearls.”

  They start sorting through the police reports, finding all the descriptions of the stolen jewelry. “Wow,” George breathes, “there is a lot. He must have stashed millions of dollars worth of jewelry.”

  Alexis tries not to be disheartened, “And mostly diamonds. Diamond bracelet, diamond solitaire, diamond brooch, and diamond choker.”

  “Here’s the mention of pearls: three strand necklace, pink cultivated pearls.”

  “Nope.”

  George shrugs his shoulders and keeps sorting. “How about single strand gray pearls?”

  “Nope.”

  They shuffle papers and Alexis thinks aloud, “This file is a mess. It would be a lot easier if Otto could tell us what he found.”

  Both George and Alexis look around but there isn’t so much as a shadow.

  “How about ‘pearl choker, freshwater, blue’?”

  “Nope.”

  George finally bristles, “Why don’t you just tell me what I’m looking for?”

  Alexis holds up a single page police report and reads, “Large freshwater pearl, teardrop pendant.”

  “How do you know that’s it?”

  Alexis pulls her mother’s pearl necklace out from her blouse. “Psychometry works when the object is associated with a person or an event. Every time I touch this, I see something to do with the stolen jewels. This isn’t an heirloom from my mother, it’s proof she found Fenton’s stash.”

  George pulls himself up on the Futon. “And that explains why she is being threatened. Fenton wants his stash back.”

  She frowns and pulls another piece of paper from the file. “The only problem with that is Fenton died in prison.”

  “Well, that would explain what happened to Doug and to you. Fenton’s spirit has been here looking for his stolen stash.”

  Alexis rubs her forehead, “But it’s all stopped. Both Doug and Mrs. DuBois told me everything has been quiet around here.”

  George stands up, frowning. “That can’t be right. Just yesterday Doug admitted things have been moving around in his apartment on their own. And Mrs. DuBois told me she’s going to stay at her sister’s because every morning all her drawers and cupboards are open.”

  “Why would they lie to me?”

  They both head out the door and down the hallway to knock on Doug’s door. He looks sheepish as soon as he sees Alexis. “I told him you’d never believe me. And it keeps happening. You gotta help me.”

  “Wait, who? What?”

  Doug opens his door all the way. “Maxwell told me to shut up about all the strange things happening around here. He said you needed a break and it was worth a chunk off this month’s rent.”

  Alexis reels back before clenching her fists. “Never mind that. What exactly has been happening around here?”

  “Things are moving around all on their own: drawers sliding open, cupboards, closet doors. Melissa’s front door won’t stay closed.” Doug gestures to his neighbor.

  “And Mrs. DuBois?”

  Doug shakes his head. “Poor thing. She’s gone to stay with her sister because every morning she’d wake up to all her drawers and cupboards hanging wide open.”

  Alexis turns to George who says, “And she agreed with Maxwell that you didn’t need to know. She was worried she’d upset you when she mentioned hearing your mother’s name.”

  “Enough of what Maxwell thinks. I think we need to call Alice and find out what is happening.” Alexis squares her shoulders.

  Alice Manetti, the psychic medium, arrives within the hour and finds a small knot of Blackvine Manor residents milling around Alexis’ studio apartment. George, Doug, Melissa, and even the surly handyman Barry are ready to hold a séance and hear any possible answers.

  “If it saves me one more door repair, I don’t care what hocus pocus you use,” Barry grumbles as he shakes Alice’s hand.

  They stand in a loose circle as Alice claps her hands, opening the room and herself to spirit communication.

  “Something strong, something dark is blocking. It wants something, demands it.”

  Maxwell bursts through the door. “What is going on?”

  Before anyone can answer, he is picked up, turned upside down and held suspended above the séance by an unseen force.

  Alexis asks, “Now do you believe me?”

  Part V

  Prologue

  MAXWELL CHARLES TURNS OVER IN his sleep, his dream changing from an easy reverie to the disorienting memory of the séance. Without a step he rushes down the hallway of Blackvine Manor Apartments, his mind easily filling in the details of the faded paisley carpeting and brass wall sconces as he has dreamt every inch of the familiar building before. The sunlight ebbs from the stairwell window as he soundlessly rises up to the second floor. He can feel his hand on the door of the studio apartment, pushing the heavy, dark-stained wood inward as he enters. A tight cluster of Blackvine Manor residents stand around in a circle, only Alexis shifting her eyes to his abrasive entrance.

  The image of her tips violently, and Maxwell cries out in the dream, his body being slung up into the air by an unseen force. The helplessness and fear wash over him again and he claws at the covers like he did the empty air, not understanding how it was he could suddenly be hanging upside down.

  His mind races over the strange happenings at Blackvine Manor, desperate to find logical explanations. In flashes he recalls Alexis Cole arriving out of nowhere to see the studio apartment and how she smiled at him, taking music no one else could hear as a sign she was in the right place. He wanted to believe she somehow interpreted clues an entire police force confused when she was able to uncover the body of Delia Charles in the basement. He could not accept his grandmother’s ghost had called out for help and Alexis, exploring her new extrasensory abilities, was able to answer.

  Thrashing back and forth on his pillow, he skips over each time she tried to prove her perceptions to him. He could have believed her, she deserved his trust and yet he hid behind skepticism until it was literally shaken loose from him.

  Again he relives the disturbing cartwheel over and upside down, his stomach sick as he can’t reach the hardwood floor with his hands or see what has him tight by the ankles. The others cower away from his freely suspended figure; afraid of unknown power that grips him. He hears Alexis’ voice, sees her stepping forward.

  “Now do you believe me?”

  Of course she’s not afraid, Maxwell is able to think despite his terrifying predicament. I’ve called her crazy, doubted her since we met, and never thought I could be wrong.

  The force releases him and he crashes to the floor, thoroughly shaken but unhurt. Maxwell jolts from the dream, remembering how Alexis immediately came to kneel beside him. Where he expected a smirk or at least a smug quirk of her lips, he saw nothing but love and concern. Without hesitation, she gathered him in her arms, willing to protect him and put up with him.

  Fully awake, he turns in bed to wrap his arms around Alexis’ sleeping form, whispering very quietly in her ear, “I will never doubt you again.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “YOU MUST BE MS. LARUE?” George locks his hands together to stop any of his normal fidgets.

  The new resident smiles as she shuts the front door of her car.

  “Makes sense that I would meet you out on the street.” George rocks up on the balls of his feet before reminding himself to play it cool.
>
  She brushes blonde hair out of her face and gives him a quizzical look.

  “Your last name, LaRue, it means ‘street’ in French, n’est pas?”

  He is so awkward she can’t help but be charmed. “Do you mind giving me a hand? I was a little ambitious when I told all my friends I didn’t need any help.”

  George jumps to the trunk of the car and immediately helps unload two heavy suitcases. “Not a problem! Think of me as the unofficial Blackvine Manor welcome committee.”

  “There’s an official welcome committee?” She cocks an eyebrow at him.

  “Well, ah, no. But there should be; it’d be a nice touch.” He starts hauling the suitcases up the sidewalk and into the foyer.

  The blonde Ms. LaRue follows him with a large cardboard box. “I think you’re right. If you put this place into a search engine a whole bunch of ghost-hunting stuff comes up. It’s got a reputation for being seriously haunted.”

  George mentally pats himself on the back for leaving his photograph off the profile on his paranormal investigations website. “But you’re still willing to move in?”

  She balances the box between her hip and the wall as she fishes the keys for the ground floor apartment out of her pocket. “It’s good advertising, I’ll give the owner that. I’m not a big believer in ghosts and all that mumbo jumbo. A bunch of shadows and special effects are not enough to keep me away from a good deal on rent and a nice neighborhood.”

  George’s smile is strained as he hauls the two big suitcases inside her apartment and tries not to be hurt by her judgment of his work. His website has caused a lot of controversy in the paranormal community because the evidence he captured is so amazing. Hundreds of other paranormal enthusiasts have studied his videos and deemed them legitimate but he can’t tell her that, despite his pride.

  She flips on the light against the fading afternoon sun and surveys her new apartment. “Hardwood floors, built-ins, and this unit has a Murphy bed, I couldn’t pass this darling place up even if it had been a murder scene.”

  George chokes a little and she whirls towards him. “Oh, sorry! You were living here when they found the body in the basement? That was insensitive of me. I’m sorry.”

  “So you read about that too?”

  “Yeah, it pretty much topped the list. Blackvine Manor has a good story, huh?”

  “A few,” George mutters as he shuffles to her door.

  She trots over to him and holds out a slim hand. “I’m Bella, by the way.”

  He shakes her hand, caught by her pretty blue eyes. “I’m George.”

  “Well, George, do you mind helping me with a few more things? It was really silly of me to think I could handle it all by myself.”

  “Sure, no problem!” He happily follows her back out to her car for another load.

  As they bring up a second load of boxes, Bella admires the brass-covered mailboxes in the lobby. “They’re still original. I bet this place hasn’t changed much in the last 50 years.”

  “The landlord has done a lot of good updates, especially the kitchens and bathrooms.” George struggles to control a box of pots and pans.

  “Maxwell Charles, right?”

  He bristles, not liking the way Bella brightened at the mention of Maxwell. He’s tall and handsome and dating George’s best friend Alexis. George can’t decide if he’s defensive because he doesn’t want competition for Bella or because he doesn’t want someone flirting with his best friend’s boyfriend. “Have you met him?”

  “I met him and his girlfriend when I signed the papers. It’s sweet how they met here.”

  George relaxes only to have a pot lid slip through the side of the box and clatter down the front steps.

  “Maxwell grew up here too?” Bella asks, propping the door open as George tries to retrieve the lid without dropping the entire box.

  “His grandparents lived here.”

  They arrive at Bella’s apartment and she flops down on the wooden window seat. When George finishes depositing the unruly box of pots and pans in the kitchen, she pats the space next to her and he happily sits down.

  “I actually saw his grandfather’s story on the news. He had a heart attack here on the anniversary of his wife’s death? How romantic.”

  George scrubs the back of his neck, remembering that night. Otto had relived the night of Delia’s murder. In the depths of his memory he mistook Alexis for her mother Amelia and threatened to kill her for what she saw. Alexis had to run for her life and was nearly hit by a car on the street outside. “I don’t think I’d use the word romantic.”

  Bella shrugs, “The news made it sound romantic: police chief returns to the recently discovered scene of his worst unsolved mystery. His heart couldn’t bear the strain of standing where his beloved wife was killed all those years ago.”

  Remembering the terrifying look on Otto’s face as he shoved past George and tried to silence Alexis runs an awful shiver down George’s spine. He gets up and wipes his hands on his baggy jeans before shaking Bella’s hand again. “It was nice to meet you, Bella. I could maybe take you out for dinner sometime? There’s a little restaurant nearby all the residents go to. It could be a more official unofficial welcoming committee thing?”

  Bella smiles and shakes his hand. “Or we could do a pizza night and try out one of those Ouija board things. I haven’t played that game since I was kid. Who knows? Maybe this place will have me believing in ghosts.”

  George waves as he shuffles towards the door. “Blackvine Manor has been known to do just that.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “TROUBLE SLEEPING AGAIN?” ALEXIS FINDS Maxwell in his kitchen already sipping coffee and staring out of the window. Outside the city skyline is just turning pink as the sun is rising.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No, though I wish you would have.”

  He has dark smudges under his eyes but he still manages a wolfish grin. “Well, we could always go back to bed. Maybe try something more than cuddling this time?”

  Alexis holds up a hand to stop him and he smiles, placing a mug of hot coffee in it. She can’t deny she is attracted to Maxwell Charles. The way he shrugs his broad shoulders in his soft, black t-shirt is enough to make her lick her lips. He is delicious, leaning against his kitchen counter in flannel pants with his hair still rumpled. The shadow of stubble on his handsome face is soft enough for her to blush, thinking of the electrifying friction it could cause.

  She shakes off the naughty daydream and takes a sip of coffee. Alexis has been keeping him at arm’s length and with good reason. Her recent discovery of extrasensory abilities has been life changing, to say the least, and his stubborn skepticism in the face of all that has happened to them is enough to make her cautious.

  “Are your, um, visions kind of like nightmares?”

  Alexis frowns at him. “What do you mean?”

  Maxwell shoots her an apologetic look. “I mean, when you see things does it feel like it does when you’re having a dream?”

  She takes a seat at his large, round table and contemplates his question. “I don’t really know how to describe them. I guess it looks like a dream but doesn’t feel that way.”

  He crosses his arms and Alexis tries again. “Mostly it’s like the dream is in front of me and I am in control and can look away at any time.”

  “Except the night when Otto, the anniversary of Delia’s . . .” He can’t finish.

  She nods in agreement. “The anniversary of Delia’s death was different. You’re right; it did feel like a bad dream. I knew where I was, I could hear you and George, and I could control my body. I just couldn’t see anything except the scene from that night. No matter where I turned, it was all I could see.”

  Maxwell nods and goes back to drinking his coffee. Alexis pretends to read the headlines but watches him out of the corner of her eye. It’s not surprising that he has questions after what happened to him at Blackvine Manor. She’s just shocked he hasn’t alre
ady come up with a ‘logical’ solution.

  After the unseen force released Maxwell and he crashed to the floor, she and George had helped him to her red sofa. While he and George argued over what happened, Alice Manetti, the psychic medium, had pulled Alexis aside.

  “You said the spirits here were unable to come through. Something seemed to be blotting them out. There is a dark force here. Something determined, with a purpose is coming.”

  “What could pick up a man and turn him upside down?” Alexis remembers asking Alice.

  The medium had stood back and considered Alexis from head to toe. “Your abilities are not extending to telekinesis?”

  “No. No, I did not do that.”

  Alice shrugged. “We are all capable of doing more than we know. Like generating the white light. That is what you should practice now.”

  Alexis had looked up the white light in her mother’s earmarked paperback on extrasensory abilities. While it was mostly used by mediums to help ghosts transition, it was a powerful protection. The book outlined how to find the light and expand it. There was even a technique for projecting the white light onto those who needed it.

  She’s about to tell Maxwell about it, despite the scoffing skepticism she knew she’d face, when her phone rings.

  “Is it too early to ask for advice?”

  “Good morning, George. You’re up early, is everything okay?”

  Maxwell pushes off the counter, expecting another emergency at his apartment building.

  Alexis laughs. “You want advice on asking a girl out? I think I can help.”

  Maxwell kisses her on the cheek, calls ‘hello’ to George, and heads into the bathroom to shower. She watches him go, admittedly glad that she can now talk freely with her best friend.

  “How’s he doing?” George asks. “He can’t really deny the whole paranormal thing anymore, can he?”

  “I can’t tell. He hasn’t been sleeping very well. I think he’s having nightmares. And he’s been asking me questions about my abilities.”