Sensing Evelyn’s worry, Terrence sat up.
Evelyn got out of bed.
“Babe--”
Evelyn interrupted him. “What happened in the child’s playroom last night?”
Terrence cocked his head in confusion. “Playroom?”
“Don’t play coy. The nursery.”
“I don’t--” Terrence swiveled his feet out of bed.
“Stay there!” Evelyn shouted.
Terrence put his hand up in a non-threatening manner and stayed in the bed. “Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere. Evelyn, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Were you thinking about hurting me?” Evelyn asked with frustrated suspicion.
“What? No, Eve, of course not. I’d never.” Terrence replied. “Why would I?”
Evelyn didn’t have a solid answer. “Something happened last night when we were at Quenby House. Whatever it was caused you to wake up with that on your face.” She pointed to the white mask scrunched up on the floor.
Terrence gulped when he looked at it. “I was wearing that?”
Chewing her thumbnail, Evelyn nodded.
Terrence’s eyes turned to glass. “The last thing I remember is taking the medication and going to bed with you.”
Evelyn felt the breath leave her for a moment. “The pasture, our walk, the little girl and masked man, you don’t remember any of that?”
“I’m telling you the truth. I can’t remember anything. You gotta believe me, babe.” He looked at his dirty and raw feet with horror.
Evelyn paced, trying to get control of her frustration and fear. It only made it worse. Usually, she was good at hiding her emotions. Not now. She swept away a tear before it could fall.
“I’m scared,” Terrence wiped his eyes. Where those real tears or was it an act? Evelyn wondered. She couldn’t shake the pit in her gut that said this was not her husband.
“What the hell is happening to us?” Terrence asked.
Evelyn hated the words she spoke, but she could find only one explanation. “It’s that house.”
Terrence turned to Evelyn, giving her his undivided attention.
“Before we arrived, we lived normal, crappy lives, but not a single thing has made sense since we walked through that mansion's front door.” Evelyn forced herself to be honest. “I don’t know if demons, or karma, or spirits, or any of that unexplainable hocus pocus is real, but there is something going on here that defies explanation.”
“Evelyn, maybe we’re just sick,” Terrence said softly. “Or the side effects of the medication--”
“Let’s be honest with ourselves, Terrence. This happened way before we met the creepy doctor. Sick people don’t paint the Sistine Chapel on their hallway when they can hardly doodle. They don’t claw on the basement wall without reason.”
Terrence stretched out his bandaged fingers. “That’s what I was doing?”
Evelyn glared at him.
Terrence pursed his lips and averted his eyes.
Evelyn continued, “This all ties back to the girl, the mask, and somehow my father.”
“Girl? Mask? I don’t understand,” Terrence said honestly.
Evelyn felt herself squirm. “Just trust me, all right?”
“I do,” Terrence said feebly. “But… what should we do? Run? Burn the house down? Call an exorcist? How does any of this information help us if we don’t have a solution?”
Evelyn ran her hand through her disheveled blonde hair and up her scalp. “We’ve been out of the house for a few days. Waking up with that mask proves that there is still a connection to the mansion even when we’re away.” Evelyn didn’t know if her words were phony or gospel, but it sounded right and made a miniscule amount of sense in some weird way.
Startlingly quick, Terrence got out of bed and bee lined for the deflated-looking suitcase on the ground.
Evelyn took a step back, hitting her spine against the wall behind her. “What are you going?”
“Getting the hell out of here,” Terrence said with vigor as he jammed dirty clothes into the suitcase.
“I just told you it won’t make a difference,” Evelyn argued.
“I get you want answers,” Terrence said as he began putting on new clothes. “You’re an investigator, I don’t fault you for that, but, at the moment, I don’t care about truth or the explanation. I care about my safety,” Wearing his shirt on backwards, he shoved the wrinkled pajamas into the suitcase. “And I care about yours. To hell with the rest. Get packed. We’re leaving.”
Not since Terrence pulled Evelyn’s broken body from the crashed car all those years ago had he ever been so demanding. Not wasting time to take a shower, Evelyn threw off her pajamas and put on jeans and an orange and black striped long-sleeved shirt. Holding a bobby pin between her teeth, she put her hair into a loose bun. Terrence zipped up the bag and reached for the wad of cash next to the Gideon bible. Evelyn grabbed the money before Terrence could touch it. Off his confused look, Evelyn replied. “I’ll hold on to it. You get the suitcases.”
Not wanting to argue, Terrence heaved up both suitcases. The cords of muscles in his arms went taut as he hustled out the door. Evelyn slung on her double-breasted raincoat and shoved the money in the inner pocket. If there was something wrong with Terrence, she needed to make sure she was prepared to survive on her own.
The grass was still dewy and the sun was low and golden. In the nearly desolate parking lot, Terrence shoved the suitcases in the back cargo hold of the minivan. He slammed the truck so hard that the van’s windows rattled, and he clambered into the front seat. Evelyn took shotgun with hesitation, hoping that her suspicions of her husband were wrong as he turned the key in the ignition.
The minivan puttered to life and reversed so fast that the tires screamed and another hubcap fell off. Terrence put the vehicle into Drive and raced down the road flanked by pastures and a few pine oaks. The car wasn’t a speed demon, but that didn’t stop Terrence from stomping the gas. They had left so quick that Evelyn forgot to return the room key… and pay the landscapers. Running away from it all felt weak and impulsive, but her life was on the line. Evelyn rested her head against the window and watched spotted cows and red tractors reaping hay blur by. Less than an hour later, the green sign for Adders, Georgia was in their wake.
They drove in silence and slowed to the speed limit. In a few hours, they would be out of the state. Many hours after that, they’d be home. Evelyn wondered what she’d tell her kids, if she could ever have children, when they asked about their grandfather. She thought she’d lie to them, tell them she knew nothing about the mysterious Maxwell or where he lived. All of what happened in Adders would be mere memory. One locked away till the end of her days.
Evelyn watched the road and felt a wave of tiredness flood over her. Must stay awake. Must keep an eye on Terrence. She tried to blink the sleep away. It didn’t help. The rumble of the road calmed her much more than the mansion’s bed ever had. She wanted to shut her eyes.
Only for a second.
She awoke to the smell of gasoline and fumes. Another nightmare. Her neck cried out in pain. Her nose throbbed. She opened her eyes to the cracked windshield and the tree beyond it. It was dark outside. A gasp of pain escaped her lips as Evelyn sat up and rubbed her neck. She tasted blood on her lips and noticed a crimson smudge on the dashboard in the shape of her nose. A million questions raced through her mind. She twisted to Terrence before answering them. Her husband’s face was buried in the deflated airbag. His arms were limp by his side.
“Terrence.” Evelyn’s voice cracked. “Wake up.”
She shook his shoulder, causing his whole body to rock. He didn’t react. Dread fell over Evelyn. She pushed her fingers on his neck. Nothing.
“Oh God,” Evelyn whimpered and readjusted her fingers.
Nothing.
“Oh God,” Evelyn felt herself cry as she readjusted her fingers again.
The faintest pulse thumped against her fingertips. Evelyn inhaled deeply.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She unbuckled her seatbelt and fished her hand into her pocket. The simple action caused pain to shoot through her body. Dialing 911, Evelyn staggered out of the car, leaving her unconscious husband to rest.
“State your emergency,” said the mechanical-sounding dispatch lady.
“Car crash. My husband and I.” Evelyn felt the ground move as she put her feet down. The world tilted. She blinked a few times, finding her balance.
“What is your current location?”
Evelyn waddled around the side panel of the vehicle. Over the white fumes wafting out the crumpled and corroded hood stood the mighty Quenby House backed by a pregnant moon and thin, drifting clouds.
“My house,” she said with defeat before she gave the dispatch lady the address and let the phone fall from her hand with a clack on the red brick road.
Fate stabbed her with a knife and twisted the blade in her chest. Her car, her only means of escape, was jammed into an oak tree running alongside the path to the house. Her husband was unresponsive and possibly a replacement of his true self, and the theory about her connection to this place was unfortunately true.
She sank to her knees.
“What do you want from me?” she mumbled to whatever force was toying with her.
The midnight wind shrieked in reply.
In a fury of flashing lights and screaming sirens, the ambulance and police cruiser arrived. The young and strong EMTs that looked like poster boys for 1950s America dragged Terrence from the car and loaded him onto the gurney. Grabbing either side of the stretcher, they carried Terrence into the back of the ambulance.
“Have you ever been in a car accident before?” The brown-eyed and brawny EMT standing by her asked.
“Once. Years ago,” Evelyn said, her eyes a thousand yards away and looking at the house. “When I tried to kill myself. Terrence saved me.”
She had no clue why she told the boy her darkest secret. Not even Terrence knew the cause of the accident.
“Well,” the EMT said, unsure how to reply. “Your neck appears to be okay. It’s just a minor sprain. Likewise with your nose. All things considered, you’re very lucky. We’ll take you to the hospital while a tow truck takes care of your vehicle.”
“And Terrence?” Evelyn asked.
The EMT gave her a pitying smile. “He’s alive, but we can’t say much else right now.”
A police officer approached Evelyn after the EMT left, asking how much she had to drink that night.
“My husband and I are sober, Officer,” Evelyn replied with a little more attitude than she intended. “We got distracted on the way home and he hit the tree. I think it must’ve been deer.” Evelyn lied with a straight face.
The officer eyed her for a moment and then jotted down the answer.
In the sterile-smelling white walls of the hospital waiting room, the nurses gave Evelyn aspirin and a small neutral-colored cup of water. She quickly downed the items and slouched back in the uncomfortable but cushioned chair. With every heartbeat, her nose throbbed. Did Terrence black out or did he mean to drive us home? Both answers scared her.
“Mrs. Carr?”
Evelyn didn’t hear the man approach. The handsome doctor had a square jaw and big eyes with streaks of natural silver in his dark hair. Putting her palms on the arm rests, Evelyn tried to stand, but he said otherwise. “You need your energy.”
“Dr. Gregory,” Evelyn read his nametag. “Any word on Terrence?”
“He’s still unconscious. The airbag cushioned most of the impact. We believe the force of the accident rattled his brain, but honestly, we don’t have a definitive answer. His vitals are fine. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t be waking up.”
Evelyn had nothing to say. If Terrence were here, he’d make a positive quip. “Hey, at least I’m alive.” But Evelyn didn’t have much optimism before, and there was even less now. Maybe it was good he wasn’t waking up. Evelyn shunned that thought the moment it passed through her mind. After spending five years with the man, she couldn’t imagine a world without her good-natured husband.
“I noticed that your health insurance is out-of-date,” the good doctor said. “Would you like to discuss payment plans now or tomorrow?”
Evelyn almost laughed at the amount of crap being dumped on her.
“Now,” she replied, and felt the wad of cash in pocket that would be much smaller come this time tomorrow.
“You may stay here for the night if you wish. We have a few extra rooms,” Dr. Gregory said as he handed her the proper paperwork. Evelyn glanced about the empty waiting room.
“Is it free?” Evelyn asked cynically.
“I’m afraid not.”
Evelyn nodded to herself, paid her dues, and vanished out the hospital’s double doors.
She saw a nurse approach Dr. Gregory before the machine doors shut. With the breeze brushing her hair against her cheek and lip, Evelyn pulled out the picture of the little blonde girl, torn at the top where the nail had been planted.
The doctor raced out of the door. “Mrs. Carr!”
Under the streetlight and with apathetic eyes, Evelyn turned back to the winded doctor.
“I’ve decided to cover your expenses.” Dr. Gregory handed the money back to her.
“Why?” Evelyn asked skeptically.
Gregory stared at her. “I didn’t realize that you’re a Quenby. Come back inside. I’ll get you something to eat.”
Her cramping stomach replied for her. Gregory opened up the cafeteria door and flipped on the lights.
“No one's supposed to be in here this late,” Gregory said as he slipped behind the counter and into the kitchen. “That never stops the nurses though.”
Evelyn stood in the large room with rows of tables. “I didn’t realize my family name carried so much clout,” Evelyn yelled to Gregory.
Gregory returned with a few yogurts, apples, and juice cartons. “For many years, the Quenbys donated to this hospital. We’re indebted to you.”
Evelyn was taken back by that, wondering how much sway her family had over this town. “Do you know about Maxwell’s disappearance?” Evelyn said while she accepted the food.
Dr. Gregory paused at the question. “My guess is that he ran away. He probably went stir-crazy in that mansion and wanted to say goodbye to it all. See, Maxwell wasn’t the most well-liked of the Quenbys. When he vanished, things were... better.”
“Tell me about him,” Evelyn insisted.
“Prideful,” Dr. Gregory said with venom. “He thought he was untouchable in his big house. Never worked, took whatever he liked and, unlike his father, he was stingy with his money. That’s normally not an issue, but the Quenbys had a reputation for generosity, and many facilities relied on their annual donations. When Maxwell decided to withhold his support, he lost a lot of friends.”
“You don’t seem to like the man very much,” Evelyn said.
Dr. Gregory’s smile betrayed him. “I did, actually. At one time.” His fingers drummed on his juice carton before he gulped it down. “It’s nearly 11. I must get going, Evelyn. Do you mind if I call you that?”
“I don’t see why not,” Evelyn replied.
The handsome doctor smiled in a way that would melt many girl’s hearts. “Enjoy your meal, Evelyn. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Taking her food with her, Evelyn ventured down the hall into the room the nurses had prepped for her. She requested that the nurse lock the hospital door while she slept. Suspicious, the woman granted the request.
In the clean and crisp hospital room, Evelyn flopped onto the stiff mattress. She couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. She locked her fingers together on her slender stomach and thought how best to find the blonde girl or her body.
Sunlight crawled over the carpeted floor, up the bed, and across Evelyn’s determined face. The nurse unlocked the door and entered with a metal tray. An orange juice carton and eggs rested on the tray top. Evelyn ate quickly, for energy
over taste. “Tell Dr. Gregory I said thanks,” Evelyn said mid-bite.
“You sure you don’t want to tell him yourself?” the nurse replied.
“No time,” Evelyn said and slung on her jacket. “Call me if Terrence wakes up.”
She took a cab back to Quenby House. The landscapers were working feverishly as always. The tractor rumbled in the hay fields. Everything seemed… normal. Evelyn glanced at the plastic bumper left behind at the base of an ancient oak and went inside of the mansion. She marched to the foyer and through the hall of portraits. Moving aside the corner of one painting and turning the key, she slipped into her father’s private study. She scoured every inch of it, finding a wide-brim fedora from the 1940s, stacks of old National Geographic, and various religious texts and textbook examinations of the supernatural. Was Father looking for answers too? Evelyn pulled open the drawers of the desk, put aside the documents, and opened various travel brochures. One was from Hawaii, and the original stamped plane tickets were tucked away inside.
Evelyn kept sifting through old knick-knacks and Antebellum-era artifacts stored away for safekeeping. She found two ruby earrings covered in a sheen of dust and an empty ring box. Evelyn wondered if they were owned by her mother. She discovered a large stash of crosses hidden under the bed and a slit in the mattress used to store small objects. Evelyn reached her hand inside, feeling feathers and cotton but not finding anything. As she walked around the room, Evelyn felt a loose floorboard under her foot. Stopping, she looked at the wooden plank before putting her fingertips underneath and pulling it up. Inside was a green hair ribbon and a lock box. Evelyn removed both objects and blew on them. The dust rolled off like a miniature sandstorm. She clenched the hair ribbon and re-examined the photo of the little girl. Atop the girl’s sunny hair was the vibrant green ribbon tied into a bow. Evelyn used her lock-picking tools to open the box and found a stack of children’s drawings. It showed a tall man and a blonde girl standing out of a crude rendition of the Quenby House, another with them in the cotton field and in a series of other locations. The hairs of Evelyn’s neck stood when she realized they shared the same orientation as the blonde girl and masked man in the mural Evelyn had painted.
The Haunting of Quenby Mansion Omnibus: A Haunted House Mystery Page 9