Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 01 - Haunted Hijinks

by Madison Johns

  Peterson leaned forward. “Haven’t we gone through this already? Has the suitcase suddenly reappeared?”

  Without answering his question, I continued, “Well, we did find a suitcase with clothing in it, and these letters.” I searched my purse, like through every compartment. “Gee, that’s strange. I was certain I had the letters in here.”

  “What letters?”

  “It was mail sent to Katherine Clark from Jack Winston. He was sending her letters asking to see her in person about a personal matter they needed to clear up.”

  “So you had mail that you found linking someone to our victim and you didn’t think that it was important enough to turn over to me sooner, and now you’ve lost the evidence?”

  “I wanted to question Jack first. I really can’t imagine where the letters are now, or how I could have lost them.”

  Peterson stood up. “Show me where you found the suitcase again. I want to see for sure that there’s nothing hidden there that you don’t want me to know about.”

  Caroline bobbed ahead of Peterson on the stairs. I strolled to the room where we found the suitcase and all of the windows were wide open, a swift breeze blowing in. Eleanor dashed over to close the windows, but grunted in frustration. The sheriff gave her hand, easily closing the window.

  I opened the closet and, lo and behold, the suitcase was there. He pulled gloves out of his pocked and pulled it out, setting it in on the bed. When he opened the suitcase, a musky smell was present like it hadn’t been opened in decades. All of the clothing was folded neatly inside, too. He carefully pulled out an article of clothing and shook it open. It was a floral cape dress.

  “That looks vintage,” Eleanor exclaimed.

  “Yes, like something someone from the 30s might wear.”

  Peterson then pulled out picture frames that were in the bottom of the suitcase. They were black and whites, depicting a woman in her thirties dressed in a variety of fancy dresses of the1930s.

  When I spotted one of a man, I asked Peterson, “Can I see that one closer?”

  “Nope, it’s evidence.”

  “How is that evidence? The contents look like they have been in the back of that suitcase since the 30s. There’s nothing in there that looks like it belongs to Katherine.”

  “It can’t rule it out, either.”

  “But that belongs to Sara Knoxville. You just can’t remove what could be the belongings of her ancestors.”

  Peterson fell silent. “I’m confiscating them until a thorough analysis can be done down at the station. I’ll turn them over to Sara if we find that it’s not pertinent to the investigation.”

  I grumbled and followed Peterson down the stairs and he turned and asked me, “So what did you turn up when you questioned Jack Winston?”

  “He told us that Katherine Clark had convinced him to invest money into a solar energy company.”

  Peterson set the suitcase on a table and took out a notebook. “I’m listening.”

  “International Energy,” I said. “It seems that even Elsie Bradford was taken in by the scheme.”

  “Yes, Jack told Elsie about the business opportunity,” Eleanor added. “But apparently Jack figured out too late that they were scammed.”

  “If this is true, why didn’t either of them call the police?”

  “Beats me,” Eleanor said. “I almost wondered if Jack was part of the scam. He did seem awfully upset when we told him Katherine had been murdered.”

  “And how did you come to the conclusion that Katherine had been murdered when an autopsy hadn’t even been performed yet?”

  “Well, I-I—” I struggled for words. “Is that what you were going to tell us, Peterson, that Katherine was murdered?”

  “Actually, no. What I had planned to tell you was to keep this case to yourselves. The woman who died in this mansion is not Katherine Clark. At this point, we don’t want to let on that the woman who died here had used an alias, and now I think I know why. If she had scammed Jack and Elsie, why did she stay in town?”

  “So what is her real name?”

  “We don’t know as of yet. That’s why I need every shred of evidence I can get to figure out who she really is. Her body has yet to be picked up from the coroner, either, which has me wondering, but when it is, we’re going to be ready. The coroner has promised to call us immediately when and if someone shows up to claim the body.”

  “We’ve wondered ourselves about why she’d stay in town after taking those two for a ride, but it would be their word against hers. They paid her in cash. Elsie said she filled out paperwork, but didn’t say if she had a copy of it.”

  “I’ll check that out. Thanks.”

  “Both Elsie and Jack have told us the same details. Frank Alton said a woman in a red dress approached him. I didn’t have any pictures of Katherine to verify it, though,” Eleanor said.

  He jotted down a few more notes. “Anything else?”

  I wanted to ask him about the couple who tried to kidnap my son and me, but I didn’t want to mess in Stuart’s investigation, whatever it entailed. I vowed to find out what Stuart was really up to, but I was too busy with other things.

  Before Peterson had gotten to the suitcase, it fell to the floor with a clunk, dumping the contents onto the floor. I spied an oval picture frame and kicked it beneath a chair and out of sight. Peterson knelt, packed the suitcase and left, telling us to call him if we found out anything else.

  “How did that suitcase fall on the floor like that?” Eleanor asked.

  I didn’t see a trace that Caroline was in the room when I responded with, “I don’t know, but there sure are some peculiar things happening at the mansion.”

  “That goes without saying, and boy, am I bushed. I’m heading to bed.”

  Mr. Wilson and Millicent appeared through the French doors and announced they’d be leaving, promising to bring Halloween decorations tomorrow.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” I asked them.

  Mr. Wilson’s face paled a bit, quite a feat since he had a gray pallor most of the time. “Just be sure to keep my Eleanor safe tonight. I’m not sure why either of you would want to be staying the night in a haunted mansion, but you’re welcome to it.”

  “And what have you seen that makes you think that it’s haunted?”

  “Besides that man upstairs, nothing.”

  “Wh-What man?”

  Millicent shrugged. “When we were outside, we saw a man through the third floor window. He was transparent.” She bit a nail. “Please, don’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

  “It’s just as safe as anywhere else, and even if this place is haunted, ghosts can’t hurt you.”

  “No, but they can scare you to death,” Mr. Wilson said with a curt nod.

  I escorted them to their car so I could take a look at the mansion from outside. After Millicent tore out of the drive, I examined every window, but I didn’t see any ghosts. Not even Caroline. Where was she, anyway? Was she responsible for pushing over that suitcase? I had more questions than that, but unless I saw her when I went inside, they would have to wait until I saw Caroline again.

  I strolled back inside, being sure to lock all of the doors. I quickly changed into my nightgown and climbed into bed. There was a bathroom connected to the bedroom and I left a light on in there so I wouldn’t be in complete darkness.

  I snapped my eyelids shut, trying not to think about ghosts and haunted mansions, but that was so hard to do when you’re sleeping in one. I concentrated on my breathing and managed to fall asleep. I about jumped out of my skin as a clock chimed—three from the first floor, I thought—but it was so loud it vibrated me right out of bed. I could still hear the vibrations and struggled to Eleanor’s room, but she was fast asleep. There was light at the end of the hallway, and when I realized it was in the same room that we had found the suitcase, I cautiously made my way there.

  I walked inside and found Caroline on the bed, humming to herself. She glanced up at me, but k
ept on humming. The closet was open and full of clothing, all from the 30s. On the floor were shoes neatly arranged from the same period—many of the heeled Oxford shoes with suede soles.

  “Suede soles?” I asked Caroline.

  She stopped her humming. “Of course. They’re perfect for dancing,” she gushed. “I went dancing every weekend, and had me plenty of fellas to dote on me.”

  “So what brought you here to the Tawas area?”

  “Oh, well, I met me a dashing man.” She got up off the bed and began making dancing movements. “I just love to swing dance, don’t you?”

  “I can’t say that I’ve ever tried. My Tom was not much of a dancer. So did you do that in the 30s?”

  She swirled her skirt that was about as transparent as she was. “Oh, yes,”

  “But the 30s were during the Great Depression.”

  “Yes, but in the circles I ran, believe me, it wasn’t a problem.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her to elaborate, but just then, Eleanor entered the room. “Agnes, dear. Who on earth are you talking to?”

  My mouth fell open. “I … I.” I then stared over to where Caroline was, but she disappeared in a puff of smoke that apparently Eleanor couldn’t see. “The truth is—”

  Eleanor crossed her arms across her ample bosom. “The truth … I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “The truth is, I see dead people.”

  Eleanor blinked repeatedly. “Come again?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I thought I heard you, but are you even awake or are you sleep walking?”

  “Well, I’m talking to you so that must mean I’m awake. Oh, bother. You’ve scared her away, Eleanor.”

  “Scared who away, exactly?”

  “The ghost. She’s suddenly shy, although she certainly wasn’t earlier when she rattled the table when we had company.”

  Eleanor shook her head. “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning. I don’t’ think you’re thinking clearly.”

  I frowned and threw my arms up into the air, making way for my room.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me, Agnes.”

  I froze in my tracks and whirled, only to have Eleanor run headlong into me. We both ran into the wall and it opened behind us, propelling us both into a passageway. The wall closed behind us. “Oh, great. Not again!” I wailed.

  “Again?” Eleanor said.

  “Yes. I was in here earlier when you were all talking about me in the library.” Except that we’re on the second floor, not the first.

  Eleanor now clung to my arm. “Oh, it wasn’t all me, and for the record, I don’t think you’re nuts. I sure hope you don’t see any dead people now.”

  “How can I when the lights are all out? I can’t see my hand in front of my face.”

  “How ever are we going to get out of here?”

  “Well, I’m not sure.”

  “Can’t you call one of those dead people to help us?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to see any dead people.”

  “I don’t, but if it will get us out of here, I’m game.”

  I gingerly touched the wall and made my way to where I thought was the way out, or as best as I could recollect. When I took a few more steps, lights turned on and we were at a staircase like the one we had climbed down the other day.

  “I think this leads to the cemetery,” I said.

  “Cemetery?” Eleanor whined. “I don’t want to be wandering around in a cemetery in the dead of night.”

  “How about we don’t use words like dead.”

  “Fine with me, but why can’t we just figure out how to get back into the room where this pathway had led the other day. You know the room we found the suitcase in?”

  I took a step in that direction and the lights went out. “Oh, my. I really don’t think they want us to go that way.”

  “They?”

  “Or whoever just cut the lights on and then off.”

  “Well, it could be a sensor,” Eleanor suggested.

  “Oh, good point, El.”

  “So what should we do now?”

  “I guess we’ll have to be tromping around in that cemetery since we can’t find our way to get back inside from here.”

  I led the way and we carefully descended the stairs, taking hold of the handrail. “I don’t suppose you have a cell phone in your nightgown, Eleanor?”

  “No, and you?”

  “We really need to buy nightgowns with pockets,” I said with a chuckle.

  “At least you haven’t lost your wit, Agnes.”

  “No, not at all, but believe me, I didn’t expect for these things to happen.”

  “Nope, I suppose not.” Eleanor pointed ahead of me. “Look, it’s another door.”

  I made my way there and opened the door that was thankfully unlocked. I walked through with Eleanor closely behind me. It was cold and damp on the other side, and once the door closed behind us, I realized we were in the cemetery. I tried to open the door again, but it was now locked.

  “Remember, there was a lever,” Eleanor reminded me.

  I felt for the handle, and when yanked it down, it came off in my hands. “Yup, El. There was a handle, but now I must have broken it off somehow.”

  Eleanor gasped. “What now?”

  I stared at the full moon overhead. “We can find our way back to the mansion since the moon is so full tonight.”

  Eleanor took the lead this time and we strolled through the cemetery, careful not to disturb any headstones, or rouse any ghosts. So far, I was collecting ghosts like savings stamps.

  We pushed the iron fence open and soon were following the road that led back to the mansion. Headlights came at us, swerving slightly before they slammed on their brakes and backed up.

  The interior light came on and we were staring at Curt and Curtis Hill, Rosa Lee Hill’s boys and Michigan Militia members. “What on earth?” Curtis asked from the driver’s seat. “What are you two doing out here?”

  “Now that’s a story with no easy answer,” I said. “I don’t suppose you boys could give us a ride back to the Butler Mansion?”

  “We sure can, but why are you staying there? Isn’t that place haunted or something?”

  “Or something,” I agreed. “We’re staying there to ready it for a Halloween opening. It’s opening as a bed and breakfast.”

  Curt hopped in the back so that Eleanor and I could ride up front. “Where are you boys coming from?” I asked.

  “Like you said, Miss Agnes, that’s a question with no easy answer.”

  I nodded in the darkness. “I’m willing to keep your whereabouts to ourselves if you don’t tell your ma about this one.”

  “That’s a deal. Mum’s the word.”

  Of course, I hadn’t known these boys to be rule breakers since they were quite young, but it’s hard to keep boys on the right path when they are teenagers. Rosa Lee Hill wasn’t just their mother, but a good friend of ours, even though we hadn’t seen her all that much lately.

  Curtis yanked his wheel sharply and came up the driveway fast. When he slammed on his brakes, Eleanor and I about toppled over.

  “I hope you have the keys, Miss Agnes.”

  “Actually, I was hoping you boys could get us inside.”

  “Yeah,” Eleanor said. “Don’t you know how to pick a lock?”

  “Now, Eleanor.”

  “We sure can, but are you sure you have permission to be here? I’d rather not face the sheriff in the middle of the night.”

  I thought about that for a moment and said, “Yes, I’m positive. Open the door and you two can go about your business.”

  Curtis pulled out a small box from his back pocket and removed two metal bars. I held the box for him while he inserted the metal picks into the lock and worked them until we heard a click. I handed him back the box and waved to the Hill boys as they took their leave.

  Once they left, I closed the door and Eleanor and I slumped down into chair
s in the drawing room, a room I’d call the living room. “I’m sure glad those Hill boys don’t ask many questions,” I said.

  “You got that one right. I can’t help but wonder what they were doing out and about this time of night.”

  “Well, I suppose we don’t need to be concerned about that since we have our own troubles.” I half expected Eleanor to drill me about the whole ‘seeing ghosts’ thing, but she yawned and I suggested we go on back to bed. I had forgotten all about the picture frame I had kicked under a chair and I retrieved it before retiring upstairs to our respective rooms. I slid the frame into a drawer and snuggled into bed, falling fast asleep within minutes.

  Chapter Eleven

  After I woke up and showered, I donned a pair of gray slacks with a short-sleeved sweater with a high neckline that zipped up in the back. As I slipped my feet into flats, Eleanor rushed through the door, her face bright and cheerful.

  I surveyed Eleanor’s clothing with raised brow. She wore denim pants and a black t-shirt with a huge goofy faced jack-o’-lantern in the center.

  “Looks like you’re ready for Halloween, Eleanor.”

  “Yes, and it looks like you’re not.”

  “Yes, well, we do have more investigating to do. I had planned to pay the coroner a visit. I wonder if we can weasel out of him the cause of Katherine’s death.”

  “Doubtful, but we can give it a shot. Maybe we should pick up Martha first. She’s good at swaying men.”

  “True, but the coroner won’t just hand out information like that. There are privacy issues and a police investigation.”

  “True, but never underestimate the power of Martha’s effect on men. How else would she be able to entice so many?’

  “Beats me, but you’re right about that. She obviously has her talents.”

  * * *

  Mr. Wilson and Millicent arrived right before we left, just as the cleaning guys, Gary and Larry, showed up. They pushed a wheelchair to the passenger side of their van, and Robert propelled his body from the van to the wheelchair with ease. I was quite impressed with his upper body strength. They nodded in greeting as Eleanor and I stood on the porch. Gary helped pull the wheelchair up the few steps to the porch, where they greeted Millicent with wide smiles as they entered the mansion with their cleaning supplies.