by CeeCee James
The memories from yesterday came crashing in.
Aunt Myrtle. Lavina. Police.
Dead man.
At the last thought, she groaned and pulled the covers over her head. What have I gotten myself into? She sighed and flung them back, causing her hair to snap with static electricity. Glancing at her watch, her eyes struggled to focus. Crap! Max! She jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom.
Brad had already promised he’d let the cat in at night, but she needed to get there quickly and let him back out. Max had a strange aptitude to be vengeful, and she liked her couch legs whole and unmarred by the grooves of kitty anger.
After a little reluctance to even pull back the curtain, she finally took the quickest shower she could get away with before drying off and getting dressed. Her wet hair was slicked back, like seal’s fur, into a bun. She felt cozy in her chunky pink sweater and jeans.
Elise left her room, gave the portrait a cursory look—what the heck? Crooked again?—before giving in and straightening it, and then bounded down the stairs. As she passed the fairy statue, she rubbed the globe for luck. For some reason the old house made her feel young, almost teenager-ish.
She kind of liked it.
Elise passed the dining room where Charlotte was just putting the finishing touches on a new table setting, presumably for lunch. Elise watched, curiously, as Charlotte walked around the table and touched the silver handle of each fork with a little murmur. At the last touch, the housekeeper stood back with a satisfied smile.
“Hello, Charlotte,” Elise called out.
Charlotte whirled around with a squeal of surprise. “Oh, mum! You mustn’t sneak up on a person like that.” Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of the table.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just came in.” Elise checked her watch. “Is this for lunch?”
“Yes, mum. Breakfast was over two hours ago.” Charlotte blushed. “My nerves get to me. It’s been so quiet around here, with only Ms. Kennington dining since her children left.”
“I can imagine so. Lavina told me she had two?”
“Yes. It’s been awful lonesome for Miss Kennington since they left the country.”
“When do you expect they’ll be back?”
“I hardly know. Word is that they are establishing the Montgomery business in the foreign stock market. But then, what do I know about these things?”
The maid brushed the front of her apron and looked at Elise expectantly. “Will there be anything else, mum?”
“I have a weird question. Is Hamilton,” Elise hesitated then, realizing how awful her question was going to sound, but now she was committed. “Is he as old as Aunt Myrtle?”
Charlotte giggled. “He’s been around since she was first married. Which was, like, forever ago. He knew Ms. Kennington’s father, Mr. Montgomery, before he passed.”
“I was wondering. The chauffeur too?”
Charlotte nodded, her cheeks turning pink. “Yes. And the poor gardener too. Ms. Kennington is quite loyal to her staff. That makes this a dream job.”
Elise was glad to see her smile. “You like working here, then?”
Charlotte’s smile dropped just a bit, but she nodded again. “I do, mum. She pays me well and I’ve been saving my money.”
“Really? Any big plans for it? Do you have a boyfriend?
The maid blushed and giggled. “I do. That’s what I’m saving for. He’s been offered a job out in California, and as soon as we can afford to, he says we’ll get married and make a go of it down there.”
“Oh! That’s exciting! Does he live nearby?”
“You could say he does, but I’d rather not say where.”
Elise nodded, not wanting to press too hard. She had one more question yet and she knew how cautious the staff was about outsiders snooping. “Your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell. Hey, I’ve been just a tiny bit curious about one thing.”
“Mum?” The word came out guarded.
“Well, when I drove up yesterday, I noticed at least four floors. But the stairwell seems to only go to three.”
Charlotte’s face relaxed. “Oh, you’re correct. When the house was remodeled the fourth stairwell was taken down. Instead, there’s a hidden hatchway that leads up there.”
“Really? Now that’s clever. Hidden away, you say? Did they use the extra space for something else?” Elise hoped the question would further draw Charlotte out. By the smile on the housekeeper’s face, it looked as though it worked.
“Oh, yes, mum. I believe that space became the nook inside the laundry area now. It’s quite helpful to be able to do the ironing in there rather than having to drag it down to the mudroom in the kitchen. Of course, that was way before my time.”
“My goodness. That would have been difficult to haul the laundry down all those stairs.”
“Oh, no, mum. Back then, they used the dumbwaiter. It’s connected to the laundry room.”
“Interesting. Is the dumbwaiter still in use?”
“I haven’t seen it been put to use since I’ve been here. I imagine it’s full of spiders and dust.”
“Mm, you’re probably right, especially in a house of this age. Is the hatch to the attic in the laundry room ceiling then?”
“No, mum.” Charlotte shivered and rubbed her arms. “I wish! Actually, it’s in my room and I detest it.”
Elise noted Charlotte’s strong reaction. “Why do you detest it? Does it send down cold drafts?”
“No, mum.” Charlotte’s gaze cut sideways toward the entrance before she continued, as if assuring herself they were alone. Her voice lowered. “I hear things.”
Elise straightened and crossed her arms. “Hear things? At night? Oh, you poor thing. Like rodents?” She grimaced. “Yuck.”
“It was only a rat, mum, if a rat were dragging a suitcase.”
Elise’s mouth dropped open before she quickly recovered. “Are you sure? Could it be a raccoon that somehow wiggled through the ox-eye? Did you see any evidence in your room that the hatch opening had been tampered with?”
“No one could have gone up there through the hatchway, mum. I’d been there all night. No, it was the ghost.”
“The ghost?” Elise tried to keep her voice casual, ignoring the prickly sensation crawling up her arms.
“The one that haunts this place and steals our stuff.”
Eyebrows raised, Elise continued. “You’ve had some of your stuff stolen?”
“Or moved around.” Charlotte bit her bottom lip, looking uncertain at the direction the conversation was taking.
“Really! Like what?”
The housekeeper cleared her throat and fidgeted with a thread hanging off one of her cuffs. “Just some small things. It won’t seem much to someone like you.”
“I’d love to know all the same.”
“Well, there was my toothbrush.”
“Your toothbrush was moved?”
Charlotte blushed. “I know that sounds silly, but I like it in a certain place, facing a certain way”
Elise nodded, suddenly remembering the way Charlotte had checked the door the night before, touching the knob three times. It had happened just now as Charlotte had touched each fork in its setting. It seemed the maid had a bit of an obsessive compulsive disorder. “Okay, I get it. And it was moved?”
“Yes,” Charlotte pulled her sleeves down before giving a resigned sigh. “The bristles were facing the wrong way.” She lifted her head as if daring Elise to say anything more.
“Wow, that’s weird. And it couldn’t have fallen? Joggled in the container?” Elise continued in spite of Charlotte’s vigorous head moving in denial.
“You don’t believe me?” she said, her face looking defensive.
“I believe you. Definitely.” Elise knew the toothbrush had moved, but really by someone?
“It’s that ghost trying to mess with me. In all honesty, I’d leave this job if I could. I don’t want to deal with any ghosties. But, I’m saving my money, so….”
Elise nodded. “Why do you think a ghost would want to mess with you?”
“Why does it want to mess with any of us?” Charlotte winked an eye. “Just ask Miss Myrtle.”
“Are you saying…?”
“Miss Myrtle knows the ghost personally. And now, if there’s nothing else, I really need to get back to work.”
Elise frowned, thinking about the last comment about Aunt Myrtle knowing the ghost. “No, that’s all. I’m sorry to keep you, Charlotte.”
The housekeeper bobbed her head and left the room.
6
After dinner that night, Elise joined Aunt Myrtle once more in the parlor. It seemed to be the start of their new nightly routine together.
“I know who you look like.” Aunt Myrtle said before making kissy noises to the cat. Her kisses sounded more like the sucking to keep her dentures in her mouth.
“You do?” Elise answered, mildly jealous as she watched the cat stretch and stalk over to his owner. I miss Max, that little rogue. Max had given her the silent treatment that morning when she opened him his can of wet cat food and let him out for the day. Not even a little piece of lunch meat would lure him over. In a panicked phone call to Brad, he’d assured her that Max was still friendly at night when he’d let the cat back in.
“That’s right, I do,” Aunt Myrtle continued, pulling Elise from her musings. “Your great grandma.”
Elise’s mouth dropped open. This must be it. This the crazy Lavina warned me about. “My….”
“What? Have you cloth for ears? That’s right. Your great grandma. .” Aunt Myrtle blew on her tea and regarded Elise through the steam over the top of the cup. “It’s come full circle with you here to be my companion again.”
“I’m kind of in shock. I’ve never heard anything about this. Are you saying that my great grandma used to live here?”
Aunt Myrtle nodded. “She did. Papa hired her to watch over me. I was always such a handful. Never would settle down and have that big coming-of-age ball that Mother had wanted.”
“Oh. Why not? A ball sounds like fun.”
Aunt Myrtle grimaced. “A bunch of filly-fally with girls primping and making goo-goo eyes at the young men. I never could hold to them. I met Mr. Kennington on a trip to New York City. Oh, I fancied myself quite the catch back in those days. Had the short hair.” Aunt Myrtle grinned. “Of course, Papa was mortified to see me dance.”
Elise settled back in the chair and smiled. “You sound like you had a luxurious young adulthood.”
“The lap of luxury.” Aunt Myrtle stroked the cat, who had closed his eyes in a cat smile. “I suppose some would have called it that. We certainly weren’t hurting for money, that’s for sure. Papa had always been frugal, squirreling money away for as long as I could remember. All of this,” she waved her hand in the air to indicate the house, “is supported just on the interest of his investments alone. Even the Depression didn’t hurt us too badly. After the war ended, Papa bought up every Sesquicentennial half dollar issued in 1926 that he could find. It was called Freedom Dollar. He was just tickled to death by them. Then, he started the Montgomery Loan Institute, dedicated to helping families get back on their feet after the Great Depression.”
“Wow. That’s really incredible.”
“That was him all right. That’s the perfect word. He was incredible.” Aunt Myrtle stroked the cat’s head again, looking lost in thought. The clock ticked in the background, highlighted by the silence.
Elise didn’t mind the quiet. She stared into the flames dancing on the hearth and relished the heat baking her face and fronts of her legs.
“I’m going to bed.” Aunt Myrtle said abruptly.
Her words startled Elise, who slowly stood up in response. Time for bed, I guess. After all, Aunt Myrtle runs the show. “Okay. I guess I’ll head there too. Sleep well, Aunt Myrtle.”
“I’ll sleep how I sleep. And, if you want to sleep well, I suggest you ignore any weird noises.”
“Noises?”
“Every night I hear them. Little feet.” Aunt Myrtle patted the head of the cat. Pat. Pat. Pat. The cat didn’t seem to appreciate the demonstration of the feet on his head.
Elise forced her face to remain expressionless. “Oh. Okay, then. Thank you and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Not if I see you first!” The old lady cackled.
Once in her room, Elise discovered she really was tired. Her nightly routine took just a few minutes before she headed to bed, bringing her phone with her. Bored, she scrolled through Pinterest until the screen blurred through sleepy eyes.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Oh, come on. Is Aunt Myrtle playing a joke on me? She lifted her head off the pillow to listen. There it was again. Tap. Tap. Tap. A cold flush ran down Elise’s neck. She knew exactly what that sound was; high heeled shoes. Aunt Myrtle’s voice rang through her head. “Every night, I hear them.”
Elise pulled the covers up around her neck and took a deep breath to calm herself. Okay, chill out. It’s probably…. Her memory ran through the women that lived there. Cookie? Matilda? Charlotte? Aunt Myrtle? She glanced at her watch and shivered again. Two am.
Clack. Clack. Clack. The heels tapped on the floor. How far away were they? Maybe the room next door? Elise scrambled from the bed and reached for her cardigan hanging on the back of a chair. She buttoned it up and grabbed her cell, shoving it into one of the pockets. After a few moments of searching, she found her sneakers and tied them on.
Am I really doing this?
Yep. I really am.
She slid out the phone and hovered over Brad’s number, ready to press it at any second. Quietly, she tiptoed to the bedroom door and opened it. Her spine stiffened at the squeak the door made as it swung back on its hinges.
She paused and listened again.
Nothing.
Which room were the footsteps coming from? The one right next door to her or the one across and down the hall? She hemmed and hawed for a second before she headed for the adjacent room. Her heart rate amped up with each step she took.
Elise reached for the handle and turned, trying to be as sneaky as possible. At the last second, she flung it open and reached for the light switch.
Crap. There was no light switch. With a flick, she changed her phone to the flashlight and swept the light around the room.
Empty.
She hurried over to the porcelain flower lamp on the other side of the room and clicked it on.
Empty alright. The room looked as if no one had been in it for years. Decades even. Dust covers shrouded the bed and chairs, leaving them with the appearance of curled-over goblins. The fireplace grate was empty of even the barest sign of ashes. Elise rubbed her fingers together, feeling the grime from the brief contact with the lamp.
Something dropped behind her. Elise swiveled, and her heel caught on the corner of a wrinkle in the rug. She tripped forward into the dresser to catch her fall as the cell phone flew from her hand. Her hands shook as she tried to steady herself against the dresser. So much for stealth and surprise.
With a deep breath, she scanned the floor for her phone, locating it a few feet away near the wall. As she scooped it up, she noted a strip of wall paper had pulled away and was curling upwards.
She stood, with a resigned feeling, and flipped off the light. The trip had drained her adrenaline and now she moved forward almost woodenly. It was quiet in the hall as she marched for the other room.
With no fanfare, she swung the next room’s door open.
Dark. Quiet. An exact replica of the other room. Moonlight sifted through the crack between the curtains and kept the room from being pitch black. She swung the beam of the cell’s flashlight from corner to corner. The light bounced off a similarly clothed bed and chair. Another empty fireplace.
But wait. What was that? There in the corner? Some piece of strange furniture.
Still on tiptoes, Elise walked over to an identical lamp and flipped it on, illuminating the room. A
scurrying sound came from under the bed. Elise froze. Something was under the there. She listened, wondering if she should run. There was another bump and then a sharp squeak.
A rodent. Most likely a rat.
Elise shivered, both in relief and in horror. She hated rats. But, how had the rat made the tapping noise? Chewing on something?
I don’t know, but I’m not bending down to find out.
She walked over to the covered shape that stood tall in the corner. Cautiously, she reached for the dust cover. Warnings buzzed in her head—don’t touch it. It’s not yours—but she whisked it off anyway.
The cloth threw up a cloud of dust as it fluttered to the floor. She coughed and waved her hand.
Blinking, she looked at the object.
A Victorian dollhouse sat on a small armoire. She felt a bubble of childish delight as she leaned forward to examine it. Four stories tall, the house was complete with two towers. Tipping her head, she could see there was even a wrap-around veranda. Oddly familiar.
She leaned closer to peek inside. The bottom floor was an overlay of miniature brown parquet flooring with two twin staircases winding up the side of the room.
Elise sucked in her breath. The house was a replica of Aunt Myrtle’s. Hurriedly, she looked for confirmation. There was the passageway to the kitchen. There was the parlor where the police had come to talk to Aunt Myrtle last night.
She leaned in further. Oh my heavens! There was the fairy statue on the landing. There was her own bedroom! And here was the very room she stood in now.
Her mouth dropped open at the intricate detail. She stooped to study the kitchen again. There was even a miniature cook standing before counters that were covered with various baking ingredients and miniature pies. Cheese and onions hung from the tiny pantry ceiling. The living room had a grand piano. Elise couldn’t resist the temptation and touched one of the tiny keys. A thrill ran down her spine at the tiny note it emitted.
The dining room held replicas of a man and woman sitting with minuscule teacups in their hands. A stack of pretend toast sat on a plate between them. Miniature place settings were arranged before them, and the tiny plates even held crumbs.