by Rose Pressey
I checked every room in the house, but Reed wasn’t there. The only place I didn’t look was the basement. There were just some things I would avoid at all costs, and one of them was that dungeon disguised as a basement. So I didn’t want to go down there. However, I’d opened the door and called out to Reed. That was good enough, right? Besides, if he’d been down there, he would have answered. It was dark down there anyway, and he wouldn’t have been down there with the lights out.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Had Reed been outside and I’d missed him? The sensation of eyes following me overwhelmed me as I stepped outside onto the front porch. I glanced over to the woods, expecting to see the man staring back at me, but he wasn’t there. No one was out there. Not Reed. Not even a deer. I hesitated at the first step. What was I so afraid of? It wasn’t the inside of the house so much. Plus, I’d been in a ton of haunted houses so why would this one be different? I guessed just knowing for certain what had happened in the house had gotten the better of me. The feeling would fade with time. But the feeling of the strange man in the woods wouldn’t fade as long as he kept appearing.
After walking down the steps, I decided to search around the outside of the house for Reed. I peered up, thinking maybe he’d climbed onto the roof for repairs, but there was no ladder. That sensation of being watched fell over me again, but this time it was different. I thought I heard someone call out to me. I turned my attention to the woods, and that was when I saw him watching me again. Had he called out to get my attention? What was wrong with this man?
I hurried toward him, but he zipped behind the tree again. I rushed into the woods like the idiot I was, throwing caution to the wind as usual. At least I knew my decisions were foolish. There was something wired wrong in my brain which made me continue to do things that I knew could end very badly. This was taking living dangerously to a whole new level. When would I learn my lesson and stop?
But this time, I was determined to find out who this man was. I wanted to talk with him. I just hoped that huge dog wouldn’t be there, waiting to take a chunk out of my butt. I pushed past twigs and branches and ran as fast as I could to keep up. A branch snagged my sleeve slowing me down. Finally, after battling the dense thicket of pines, the break in the tree line where the man had disappeared last time came into view.
If I saw the dog, I wouldn’t let it stop me. I’d push forward. The man never looked back. He kept his pace. He definitely knew where he was headed. Too bad I didn’t. He broke free from the trees and into the clearing. So far the dog hadn’t appeared. With my luck, he was probably waiting for me to step inside that clearing before he ripped my arms off.
As I broke free from the shade of the trees, I spotted a small cabin ahead and the man was headed right toward it. Did he live there and was he luring me into his web? Was that his plan on along? And if so, why? I’d never seen this man before that first day at the house. Maybe he was the serial killer I’d heard so much about.
The man disappeared into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. All the windows were drawn shut tight and there was no movement from inside. It looked like the cabin had been abandoned ages ago. Spider webs hung from various spots on the structure and the windows had been boarded up. What should I do now? Should I approach the cabin? Knock on the door? Just how crazy was I?
The dog was barking somewhere nearby. Would he be on top of me soon, gnawing my arms off? The thought had just entered my mind when I spotted the dog tied up at the back of the cabin. I prayed he didn’t get loose because he was licking his chops like he wanted to make me his brunch.
I hurried across the yard like a cat burglar. Where was Mama’s sequined camouflage outfit when I needed it? This was decision-making time. The only option I saw was to go up and actually knock on the door.
With my heart thundering in my chest, I approached the cabin’s front door. “Hello, I’m the woman you’ve been snooping around on and possibly wanting to murder.”
I was delivering myself right to his front door. I stood in front of the door and listened for any signs of movement, but heard nothing. Bugs sounded around me and birds chirped, but nothing else. Even the dog had stopped barking. Finally I mustered up enough courage, raised my hand, and knocked against the wood. A shuffle of movement sounded behind the door, then a rattling sound came from the other side as if he had secured a million locks.
Reed would be extremely disappointed if he found out what I was doing. How would I protect myself if this man attacked me? Well, it was a little too late to think about that now. That was something I probably should have thought about before I’d followed him back there. I knocked on the door again.
“Hello,” I called. “I know you’re in there. Please. I just want to talk with you.”
This guy acted as if he hadn’t been around people for the last twenty years.
I pounded on the door even harder. “I’m not going away until you talk to me, so you might as well open the door now.”
Someone needed to commit me to a mental hospital for doing this. But I was stubborn, that was one thing that I couldn’t deny. Some people might even say that was a good quality… of course those people might be crazy too, but I digress. Finally, the door creaked open and I braced myself to be attacked. All I saw was one eyeball peering out at me.
“You’ve been spying on me,” I said.
He didn’t answer. His focus didn’t shift from my face either.
“Who are you and what do you want?” I stared, but he still didn’t utter a word. “Do you know how to speak?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
Well, good. At least now I knew he could talk. That was a start.
“Do you want to tell me what you want now?” I didn’t hide the frustration in my voice.
“I shouldn’t have bothered you,” he said.
Well, that was neither here nor there now. Still all I saw was the eyeball.
“So why were you out there in the woods watching us?” I gestured over my shoulder.
After a long pause, he answered, “I used to live in that house.”
I hadn’t expected that. My stomach flopped. This was the man who had supposedly killed his wife. Was I really standing in front of a killer? No, I didn’t believe that he was the real killer. Something in my gut was telling me that his wife’s murder and Gordon’s murder were connected.
“You lived in the house?” I repeated.
He nodded, opening the door just a little more so that I could see all of his face. “I lived there with my wife.”
Dark circles ringed his eyes and his salt-and-pepper hair was disheveled.
“Did you live in the house twenty years ago?” I asked quietly.
Of course it had been twenty years ago. How many men had lived in the house and been accused of killing their wife? I certainly hoped no more than the one. One was my limit.
“Yes.” He nodded.
That was strange. The ghost has been trying to tell me something. Had she wanted me to find her husband? Did she know that he was nearby?
“This may sound strange, but honestly, it’s a little strange that you were hiding in the woods, so I’ll just come out and say it. I think your wife has been trying to tell me something. I saw her spirit in the house. I think she was telling me to come into the woods.”
“She’s been talking to me too. I knew that I saw her spirit. That’s why I came back here. I wanted to see that her killer is brought to justice, but I realize that’s just a dream. I don’t know why I came here. I was only fooling myself.” He ran his hand through his hair.
I wouldn’t let him give up that easily. “Was your wife’s name Amber?” I asked.
He nodded as tears formed in the corner of his eyes. “Yes.”
“And you are Blake Gaines?” I looked at him expectantly.
He focused his gaze on mine. “Are you going to tell the police I’m here?”
I scoffed. “No, I don’t want to tell them anything.”
He looked down at his dirty shoes. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Please let me help you,” I pleaded.
“I can’t talk to you anymore.” He started to close the door.
“Do you know Stan?” I rushed my words.
He paused and his face blanched. “I know him. He killed my wife.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My stomach dropped. “You know this for sure?”
“I know it and everyone else in this town knew it. But his father was the mayor and they let him off.”
“Why did he kill her?”
“She had been his teacher. He was set to graduate, but he wasn’t making the grades he needed, so she agreed to tutor him for his final. He made advances on her and when she refused, that’s when he killed her.”
“I can’t believe they let him get by with it.”
“They covered his tracks.”
“Who are they?” I asked.
“The whole damn town. Just because his father was the mayor.”
“Is his father still the mayor?”
“No, he died a couple years ago. I guess everyone in town is still scared to death of that family.”
“Do you have proof that Stan killed your wife?”
“He didn’t have an alibi and then all of a sudden he did. People saw him that day with blood on his clothing.”
“I read about what happened to your wife, but I didn’t see Stan mentioned in any of the news articles.”
“Yeah, the newspaper knew better than to write anything bad about the mayor’s son.”
So Stan had killed the woman when he was a teenager.
“Of course the police botched the investigation and I couldn’t prove he did it. His father had a hand in the cover-up and having me accused as well.”
That had to mean Stan had killed Gordon, right? He was furious with him right before his murder. How would I find out? He would never confess. And the police were too busy pointing fingers at Reed.
“So you’ve been seeing your wife’s spirit too?”
He nodded. “Yes. I tried to stay away from this town. I wanted to erase the hurtful memories, but I guess she doesn’t want me to do that.”
I paused. “Maybe she just wants you to solve the crime of her murder.”
“I was the one who they accused of killing her. They will never go after Stan,” he replied in a low, tormented voice.
“Why did they not arrest you?” I asked.
“When I had an airtight alibi because I was at work, they had to let me go. Of course I couldn’t stay in this town. I had to get out. I lost my job, lost the house, lost my wife. I’d lost everything.” A look of despair had settled over his face.
“Who owns this cabin?” I scanned the area.
“It was abandoned. It belonged to an old man years ago, but when he died it just set empty. I took a chance that it would still be here. I just had to come see the house again.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“A month. Like I said, I had to see what had happened to the house. Then I saw a man who was around it a few times. A few times people were doing things to it. Then I saw you come by.” He pointed in the direction of the plantation.
“We actually bought the house. I want to make it grand again.”
He nodded. “I’d like to see it brought back to life. My wife loved that place. She would have hated to see it in this condition.”
“She is seeing it in this condition,” I said.
“You’ve seen my wife too. How is that?” he asked.
“Yes. I think she is happy with what we are doing though.”
“She was a beautiful woman.” His eyes lit up.
“Why didn’t you say something when you saw me?”
“I didn’t know you and trust me, I am not wanted in this town.”
“How do you get your food?”
“I have a car. I drive all the way into another town where people don’t know me.” He pointed over to a black car that was parked under several trees.
I nodded. I guess that made sense.
“Would you like to come and see the house?” I asked.
I couldn’t believe that I was now talking to this man who I had once thought was a killer.
He stared at me for a couple seconds, then said, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He stepped out from the cabin and closed the door.
“I have to tell you that I thought maybe you were the killer coming to kill me.” I searched his face for a reaction.
“So you knew that I was accused of killing my wife?” he asked.
“No, not at first. But I was talking about the other murder that recently happened.”
“There was another murder in the house?” he asked.
“No, not in the house, but it was the man who owned the house,” I said.
“That house doesn’t bring good luck to the owners, I guess.” He released a heavy sigh.
I didn’t even want to think about that. “Well, he wasn’t killed while he owned the place. He’d just sold it to us first. My boyfriend and I fix up old houses. Well, we have only fixed up one other one, but I’d like to do more.” I was blabbering. “Anyway, I was the one who discovered him.”
“That must have been awful for you,” he said.
“It was terrible.” My mind burned with the memory.
“Do they know who killed the man?” he asked.
I shook my head as I stepped over a broken branch. “No, not exactly.” I paused. “Well, they have questioned my boyfriend, but he in no way had anything to do with the man’s death. He just happened to be the one who found his body.”
“That sounds like what happened to me.”
“You found your wife?”
He looked off into the distance, but didn’t answer. He didn’t have to because I saw it in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
After a minute, I said, “I’m trying to find out who killed the man. His name was Gordon Millerton.”
“Never heard of him,” he said.
“I don’t think he’d been in town long.”
“That would explain it.”
“What you said about Stan explains why your wife had his name written in the appointment book.”
He looked at me, confused.
“I found an appointment book tucked away in a closet,” I said.
That was when I remembered that I hadn’t found the book, Mama and Lacey had and I still hadn’t heard from them. I quickened my steps. I needed to look for them and Reed too.
“It’s funny, you know,” I said, “I suspect Stan of killing Mr. Millerton. Someone from town told me that he’d recently been accused of another murder and gotten off from that too.”
“The son of a bitch,” he said.
“I have no way to prove that he did it though.” I frowned.
“He’s good at covering his despicable crimes.” His face tensed with anger.
We finally reached the opening from the woods to the property and stepped out from the shade of the trees. The sun was now shining brightly and Blake shielded his eyes.
“The bright takes getting used to again,” he said.
Reed’s truck still sat in the drive. Where had he gone?
“That’s my boyfriend’s truck, but he wasn’t in the house. I haven’t talked to him and I’m getting concerned. I haven’t heard from my mother or best friend either. They don’t answer their phones.”
At the back of Reed’s truck, I spotted a paper. We walked over to the truck and knelt down.
“It’s a newspaper article,” I said.
It was the same copy like I’d gotten from the library. There was a sticky note on it. At the top was written ‘From the desk of Gordon Millerton.’ Had Reed found the papers that Mr. Millerton had wanted to give him? Did that mean Reed had figured out who had killed Mr. Millerton? My stomach twisted into a tight knot. Something was wrong. I felt it.
&nb
sp; Blake looked over my shoulder and I glanced at him. He had a strange expression. I guess it was painful for him to see the article and to relive what had happened all over again.
“I guess my boyfriend must have dropped these papers.”
I hadn’t seen the paper when I went in the first time, so maybe Reed had been with someone else and they’d dropped him off. Yeah, that had to be it. He was probably inside working already and wondering where in the heck I was. He couldn’t stay mad at me for long.
“Would you like to come inside now and look around?”
“I’d like that very much.”
I wasn’t sure if I could do the same thing if I was in his situation. As I moved further past Reed’s truck, I noticed more items on the ground. I reached down and picked them up. It looked like contents that would come from a woman’s purse. In my hand I felt a small comb, a mirror, lipstick, and… a peppermint candy. There had been one just like this next to Gordon’s body. All the pieces had come together in my mind.
“Is everything okay?” Blake asked.
I nodded. “Yes, it’s fine. Let’s go into the house, okay?”
We walked up the path toward the house and my cell phone rang.
“Can you give me just a minute? It’s probably a call from my mother or my friend.”
He nodded and walked over to the front porch steps and sat down. Blake seemed like a nice man and not like a killer at all. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so trusting of him, but I was. And I was usually one of the most suspicious people around, but something was telling me he was different.
When I glanced at the number displayed on my phone, I didn’t recognize it. I clicked open the phone.
“Alabama, this is Carrie.”
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“I found more information that I thought might interest you.”