by Eva Pohler
THE CASE OF THE ABANDONED WAREHOUSE (MYSTERY HOUSE #2: TULSA)
Eva Pohler
Published by Green Press
Copyright 2017 Eva Pohler
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Eva Pohler is a USA Today bestselling author of over twenty novels for teens and adults.
For free ebooks from Eva Pohler in both young adult fantasy and adult mystery/suspense, including The Gatekeeper’s Sons, Vampire Addiction, The Purgatorium, Secrets of the Greek Revival, and The Mystery Box, please visit: http://www.evapohler.com.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: La Quinta Tulsa
Chapter Two: Haunted Pub Crawl
Chapter Three: The Hanging Tree
Chapter Four: The Ouija Board
Chapter Five: An Abandoned Building
Chapter Six: An Official Tour
Chapter Seven: The Local Psychic
Chapter Eight: Fire
Chapter Nine: The Greenwood Cultural Center
Chapter Ten: The Other Psychic of Tulsa
Chapter Eleven: The San Antonio Ghost Busters
Chapter Twelve: Back to Tulsa
Chapter Thirteen: A Paranormal Investigation
Chapter Fourteen: Reviewing the Evidence
Chapter Fifteen: Miss Myrtle’s Past
Chapter Sixteen: Halloween Night
Chapter Seventeen: The Shadow Man
Chapter Eighteen: Road Trip
Chapter Nineteen: Skeleton Hunting
Chapter Twenty: Stakeout
Chapter Twenty-One: Miss Margaret Myrtle
Chapter Twenty-Two: The Hunt
Chapter Twenty-Three: Catastrophe
Chapter Twenty-Four: Stairwell to Nowhere
Chapter Twenty-Five: Operation Old Lady on Brady
Chapter Twenty-Six: Guilt
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Simol
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Home Again
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Calling Van Hurley
Chapter Thirty: An Unexpected Turn
Chapter Thirty-One: Reparations
Chapter One: La Quinta Tulsa
“What in the world is that?” Sue asked as she entered Ellen and Tanya’s hotel room. Her full figure filled the entryway, where she pointed at the floor.
Ellen thought Sue looked surprisingly perky and refreshed, given what she’d been through the day before.
“Tanya’s butterflies,” Ellen said.
“Not butterflies.” Tanya pushed her blonde hair behind her ears before she picked up the three-foot by three-foot dome-shaped net that sat on the carpet near the door. About two dozen tiny green cocoons clung to the underside of it. “Chrysalises. I didn’t want to leave them behind, just in case they hatched.”
“You brought them on the train?” Sue’s brown hair brushed her shoulders as she bobbed her head in disbelief. “Dave couldn’t let them out?”
“He’s flying to D.C. tomorrow,” Tanya said. “I couldn’t have them trapped if they hatched while we were gone.” Then she added. “And I really didn’t want to miss it.”
“I think it’s pretty cool.” Ellen hadn’t thought so at first, especially after all the looks she’d had to endure from the other passengers on the train from San Antonio; but, she found herself bonding with the little chrysalises over the past few days, as if they were newborn puppies or kittens. And it had been…surprising.
“Well, then you better not pay too much attention to the windshield on your rental car,” Sue said as she sat on the end of one of the double beds. “Tulsa has been swarmed with butterflies lately, and many of them have met an untimely death.”
“Oh, stop.” Tanya moved the net to the other side of the room, near the sliding glass doors to the balcony, which overlooked their spectacular view of the parking lot.
“Don’t be crass, Sue,” Ellen whispered.
It seemed to Ellen that Tanya looked thinner than usual and more fragile. It had been just over a year since Tanya’s mother passed last September, and Tanya hadn’t been able to shake off her depression. Ellen had begun taking antidepressants after her own mother had died last November, and she felt they were helping; but, Tanya wanted to avoid medication and was trying things like hatching butterflies and taking vitamins and drinking herbal tea.
In fact, Ellen had been worried Tanya would bail on her at the last minute and not attend Sue’s daughter’s wedding.
“What made you decide to hatch butterflies anyway, Tanya?” Sue asked.
“I was looking for something new to try, something fun.”
“I could have saved you some trouble and taken you to that new Mexican food restaurant near our neighborhood. I hear they serve delicious margaritas,” Sue said with a giggle.
Ellen frowned. She doubted Sue could understand the depth of Tanya’s despair. Sue didn’t belong to the Motherless Club. Sue didn’t understand the loneliness that tugged at the heart of a motherless adult child.
“I’m surprised you’re here early.” Ellen slipped on her shoes and searched around the room for her purse. “Aren’t you exhausted after the wedding?”
“Yes, but I’m also starving, and my hunger won out.” Then she pointed at Ellen’s black capris and emerald green top. “We could be twins today. We must be on the same wavelength.”
“I guess so.” Ellen laughed. Tanya was wearing a baby blue top with blue jeans.
“The wedding was beautiful, by the way.” Tanya sat in the small chair near the desk to buckle on her sandals. “We didn’t get a chance to talk to you much last night, but we enjoyed it.”
“Yes. It was nicely done,” Ellen said. “Is Tom flying back today?”
Sue shifted on the bed. “Yeah. He offered to fly with my mom so she wouldn’t have to travel alone. I’m sure they’ve landed by now. And Lexi and Stephen are probably landing in Vancouver within the hour. Lexi called from the airport this morning to thank me for all I did.”
“That was nice.” Ellen found her purse and pulled the strap across her shoulder. “Especially considering how hard it was on you—having the wedding here in the groom’s hometown instead of back home in San Antonio.”
“Well, like I said before, her college friends are here,” Sue said. “And my mother is our only family back in San Antonio. Tom’s mother and brother live in Stillwater. It just made sense to have it here.” Then Sue added, “It means a lot to me that you girls made the trip to be there.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Ellen said.
“Of course not.” Tanya stood up and checked her reflection in the mirror over the desk.
“It’s too bad Nolan couldn’t make it,” Sue said of Ellen’s oldest son, in medical school at OSU in Oklahoma City.
“He wanted to, but he’s an intern now, and his hours are crazy.”
“You must be so proud of him,” Sue said.
“And you must be so happy for Lexi,” Ellen said.
“Yes, I am. But right now, I’m anxious for lunch. Are y’all ready to go?”
“Ready,” Tanya said. “And after we hit the casino, Ellen has something interesting in mind for us.”
Sue climbed to her feet. “Oh? What?”
“It’s a surprise,” Ellen said. “And don’t worry. There will be plenty of margaritas to be had where we’re going.”
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br /> Chapter Two: Haunted Pub Crawl
After a day of dining and playing the slots at the casino across the street from the La Quinta, Ellen got behind the wheel of the rental car and drove her friends to the Brady Arts District. It was a little past six in the evening, and the sun wouldn’t be setting for another couple of hours. Ellen was surprised, however, by how many people were walking the streets and by how few parking places were available. She hadn’t expected the arts district of Tulsa to be such a happening place, especially on a Sunday.
When Ellen pulled into the last parking space in front of a sign that read The Tavern, Sue said, “So far so good.”
“Come on, Ellen,” Tanya said from the passenger’s seat. “Tell us what you have in mind. The suspense is killing me.”
“We’re going on a haunted pub crawl,” Ellen said with a smile.
Tanya arched a brow. “They have ghosts in Tulsa?”
“Ghosts are everywhere,” Sue said.
Tanya shrugged. “I know, but Tulsa doesn’t seem like the kind of town that would have interesting ghosts. New Orleans, yes. But Tulsa?”
Sue leaned over the front seat from where she sat in the back. “And what exactly do you mean by crawl? Are we going to have to do a lot of walking? You know my feet bother me.”
“What is wrong with you people?” Ellen said. “I thought you’d be delighted. Isn’t this your kind of thing?”
“Walking has never been my kind of thing,” Sue said.
“I don’t think we’ll be going very far.” Ellen turned off the car and unbuckled her seatbelt.
Tanya unbuckled as well and opened her door. “Come on, Sue. This should be fun.”
They each took a stool at the polished wooden bar inside the art deco establishment with its large mirrors, dramatic drapes, geometric wood furniture, and glass table tops as they waited for their tour guide and the other attendees to arrive.
The bartender didn’t look much younger than they were, though she was quite attractive in her low-cut, cleavage-showing bodice. Her blonde frizzy hair framed a face with beautiful, dark-lined eyes and lashes. The woman wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist before handing over their margaritas and said, “It’s too damn hot in here. Will one of you ladies complain to my manager? He won’t do anything about it if I tell him.”
“It is pretty warm,” Sue agreed.
“They don’t pay me enough to work in these conditions,” the bartender complained. “I’m about to strip down to my birthday suit.”
“Maybe if you did, you’d get a raise,” Ellen offered with a laugh.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the kind I’m looking for,” the bartender said.
It took Ellen a minute to get why her friends were guffawing. Then she laughed, too, and asked, “Where is he? Your manager?”
“That’s him standing back there talking to a patron. Wait ‘til he comes back over here behind the bar.” The bartender added another shot of tequila to each of their glasses with a wink. “A secret thank you, from me to you.”
“Mmm,” Sue purred. “Delicious.”
“Thanks,” Tanya said before taking a sip.
Ellen wasn’t so sure she could handle two shots of tequila, but she took a drink anyway. And as soon as the manager returned to the bar, they all three mentioned how hot it was.
“It might even be cooler outside,” Sue added.
The manager shot a look at the bartender before promising to adjust the air conditioner.
Sue was on her second margarita when a woman, maybe five or ten years younger than they with long curly brown hair, stood up from one of the tables. She wore a cute purple dress and matching purple eye shadow. She twisted the bracelet on her thin wrist and said in a loud voice, “If you’re here for the haunted pub crawl, please follow me into the back room.”
“I need to stop by the ladies’ room first,” Tanya whispered to Ellen and Sue as they got up from their stools.
“Me, too,” Ellen said.
When they discovered that it was a single room with only one toilet, Tanya took Ellen’s half-empty margarita glass and insisted that Ellen go first.
Ellen locked the door behind her and was startled by the sudden unrolling of paper towels from the machine beside the mirror over the sink. Then the light overhead blinked on and off several times. For only a moment, Ellen couldn’t breathe, and she felt dizzy. Once she took a deep breath, she regained her composure.
Poking her head through the door, she asked Tanya, “Are you messing with me?”
“What? Why?” Tanya stood in the hallway holding each of their glasses—one in each hand. There were no light switches on the walls nearby.
“Never mind. I’ll be right out.”
After a few minutes, the light stopped blinking, and the machine stopped spitting out paper toweling.
It must be an electrical short, Ellen thought as she washed her hands and left the room to give Tanya her turn.
When Tanya came out, Ellen asked about the lights and the towels, but Tanya wrinkled her brow and said, “It sounds like you’re the one messing with me. Nothing like that happened while I was in there.”
Ellen shrugged it off until they caught up to the group in the private back room where the others were already seated at four small tables, and she overheard their tour guide saying, “As a matter of fact, even the ladies’ room in this bar is known to be haunted.”
Ellen narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Sue, who only gave her a blank look as she and Tanya sat at the table on either side of her.
Their tour guide, whom Ellen later learned was named Carrie French, was standing in the center of the room as she told some of the history of The Tavern. “This building was once a spectacular hotel, built in 1906, and it was one of the few structures in this area still standing after the race riot of 1921. It eventually became one of the most popular brothels in Tulsa and, later, a flophouse.”
“What’s a flophouse?” Ellen asked.
Carrie French turned to Ellen and said, “During the oil boom in the early 1900’s, a lot of fine hotels were erected, but later, during the Depression, many of them were turned into cheap lodging with lots of small rooms, each containing a bed, sink, and toilet used by transients, prostitutes, and drug addicts. The woman who ran this flophouse in the 1930’s is believed to be haunting the place. She’s been seen on the vacant floor above by many people over the years, and she also haunts the kitchen and the ladies’ room down here in the tavern.”
One of the twelve other people gathered in the small private room asked, “Is she a friendly spirit?”
“I wouldn’t call her friendly,” Carrie replied. “She seems to enjoy playing mean tricks on the employees here, especially the dishwashers and cooks, which the bar can’t hold onto long enough. They say she resented her landlord and took out her anger on the other tenants. To give you an example of one of her pranks, a few years ago, I went into the ladies’ room and was accosted with blinking lights and an out-of-control paper towel dispenser.”
Ellen gasped. Had she been set up, or had she just had an encounter with a ghost?
Tanya covered her mouth and looked at Ellen with shock before saying, “That just happened to Ellen!”
Carrie raised her brows. “Really?”
Ellen nodded.
“Congratulations, Ellen,” Carrie said. “You now belong to a very exclusive group of three. Only one other person is known to have experienced that, and she quit her job a year ago because it spooked her so bad. But I knew her, and I believe it only happens to those with the gift.”
Ellen’s face burned as everyone looked at her.
“I knew it,” Sue said. “I knew you had the gift, too. I could sense it.”
Ellen tried not to roll her eyes at Sue and instead smiled back at the others in the room. This was going to be an interesting night.
Chapter Three: The Hanging Tree
Carrie led the dozen attendees of the haunted pub crawl down Main Street to stand
in front of Cain’s Ballroom, where she said famous people like Bob Wills and Garth Brooks had often performed. Even tonight loud music poured through the front entrance, and cars lined the sidewalk and filled the adjacent lot. Each of the dozen people on the tour glanced inside the crowded doors before heading to three other chic bars that now stood where old brothels once existed. At each location, everyone on the tour had a drink while Carrie told stories of outlaws, prostitutes, and oil barons and the spirits left behind.
From Main, they walked down Brady Street to see the Brady Theater, where Ellen had an overwhelming feeling that she was suffocating. She thought it might be the tequila affecting her, so she ignored it. But a little later that night, on their way back to The Tavern, they passed the theater again, and, as before, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“Are you okay?” Tanya asked her.
Ellen nodded. They were at the tail-end of the group walking very slowly for Sue’s sake, but if Carrie had been within earshot, Ellen might have asked her if there was anything else she could tell them about the theater. As they approached The Tavern, Carrie gathered everyone around her on the sidewalk beneath the now dark sky and said, “The Brady Arts District is just one of the many haunted areas in Tulsa. If you have an opportunity to visit the Gilcrease Museum or any of the other historic districts, please do. And on your way home tonight, you might drive just a few blocks down Archer to 3 North Lawton Avenue and have a look at The Hanging Tree.”
“I’ve heard of that,” someone in their group said. “But I don’t recall the story.”
Carrie cleared her throat. “From 1870 to 1889, twenty people are known to have been hanged from a now 222-year-old Burr Oak. The old tree has outlived its natural lifespan, and some say the spirits of the Creek Indians and cattle rustlers whose bodies were hanged from it keep it alive because they can’t find peace. Many people over the years have gone out to gaze at the tree at night and have sworn to have heard the twisting sound of an old rope on the lowest limb, which hangs twelve feet from the ground.”