Brenda shook her head no. “That’s where the prank comes in,” she nearly hissed. “You must understand…” Brenda paused. “I’ve said enough. My concerns are not to be voiced to you. We’ll simply have a cup of coffee, eat a bedtime sandwich, and then all go to bed.”
Mary glanced at Betty again. Betty quickly read the question dancing in Mary’s eyes and then looked at Brenda. “Cousin Brenda, may I ask you just one more question?”
“Oh, very well,” Brenda caved, hoping to end the conversation.
“Does Ralph have any children…or did Matthew have any children?” Betty asked, hoping she had read Mary’s eyes correctly. Mary quickly nodded to assure Betty she had asked the correct line of questions.
Brenda picked up the kitchen knife and began cutting the cheese. “Ralph has a single daughter,” Brenda explained. “I’ve never met her and never intend to. It’s difficult enough dealing with…Ralph.”
Mary took another sip of coffee and began silently exploring the new information Brenda had offered. Her mind felt as if it were trapped in a whirlwind, but somehow she managed to focus on Ralph McCane and his daughter. Something in Brenda’s voice told Mary that Ralph was playing a very important role in the scary night—and his daughter, too. Of course, she didn’t speak her thoughts. It was clear that Brenda was finished allowing her personal life to be viewed by strangers. “The coffee is very good,” Mary said.
Brenda nodded, prepared three cheese sandwiches, walked the sandwiches over to the kitchen table, and sat down. “I don’t know why Ralph performed such an awful prank, but when morning arrives, I’ll walk three miles down the road to the Old Ellington manor and ask Mr. Ellington to help you.” Brenda took a sip of her coffee. “But don’t get your hopes too high,” she continued. “I barely know Mr. Ellington. I’ve met him only once, and he was a very rude man then. But it’s either ask that rude old man for help or walk the ten miles into town.”
“Gee, we’re in for a good walk either way. Three miles isn’t exactly a skip and hop,” Betty pointed out. She quickly picked up her sandwich and took a bite. “My, that’s very good cheese.”
“Very expensive cheese imported from France,” Brenda said in a proud voice.
Mary studied her sandwich and then decided to take a bite. After all, she was very hungry, and her stomach was crying out for food. “My, that is good cheese,” she said, impressed. And for a moment, a blissful moment, the kitchen felt normal. But then thunder erupted and shook the mansion, forcing Mary to return to the dark and rainy night. “This storm seems to have settled in.”
“Sparrow Falls is close to the coast,” Brenda explained. “This time of year always brings in the storms. Sparrow Falls never seems to dry out until late summer.” Brenda took a bite of her sandwich. “It’s tragic that Ralph performed such an awful prank on you. Now that you’re here…well, since you’re here…it would be pleasant to present Sparrow Falls to you. There are some quaint little stores that I believe would be very charming to visit.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely.” Betty beamed, allowing her mind to relax and forget her problems; well, at least for the time being. It was nice simply sitting in the kitchen eating a cheese sandwich and drinking coffee. “I love charming little stores, Cousin Brenda. Maybe we can visit a few before we leave.”
Brenda gave Betty a strange eye. “You mean you would be willing to stay in Sparrow Falls…even after the cruel prank Ralph performed?”
“I would like to see Aunt Gennifer,” Betty told her. “It would be a shame to leave and not visit her and offer her my love. As a matter of fact, it would be very rude of me.”
Brenda considered Betty’s statement and then nodded. “Yes, it would be very rude,” she said. “I’m relieved to see that your mother raised you with manners.” Brenda looked at Mary. “Are you willing to offer manners?”
“Of course,” Mary promised. She reached across the table and gently patted Brenda’s hand. “I would never be rude to a dying woman,” she said. “I’m so very sorry for all the heartache you’re suffering with. I can’t imagine the pain and fear.”
Brenda looked down at Mary’s hand and, instead of seeing the touch of an enemy, she saw the touch of an honest, caring, loving woman. “Thank you,” she said and patted Mary’s hand back. “Carrying Mother in my heart has not been easy.”
“Maybe not for you, Cousin Brenda,” Betty said, “but that creepy old man seems to be dealing with Aunt Gennifer’s dying state very well.”
Brenda looked toward the kitchen entrance. “Ralph is waiting for her to die,” she said in an angry voice. “When Mother dies, he can finally get rid of me. Of course…he will have to kill me first.”
“Kill you?” Mary asked. “Cousin Brenda, what are you talking about?”
Brenda rotated her eyes back to Mary. “I wish I knew,” she confessed. “Ever since Mother took her fall…I’m not certain what has been taking place inside of this mansion. All I do know is that Mother and I are in Ralph’s will. Mother insisted I—” Brenda bit down on her tongue. “I’ve said enough,” she said, standing up. “I’ll clean up the bread and cheese. You two eat.”
Mary watched Brenda hurry back to the kitchen counter and begin cleaning up the food. Mary slowly picked up her coffee and took a sip and then glanced around the kitchen. As she did, she saw the pantry door slowly ease shut. “Oh dear,” Mary whispered and quickly grabbed the fire iron.
“What?” Brenda asked.
“The pantry…someone is in the pantry,” Mary said and quickly climbed to her feet. Betty followed. “Brenda, whatever is going on, we’re going to get to the bottom of it, beginning with the pantry,” Mary promised. She drew in a deep breath and bravely walked across to the kitchen to the pantry door. “Here we go,” she said and yanked the pantry door open and looked inside. “Empty,” she said and shook her head.
Brenda walked over to the pantry door and peered inside. She didn’t say a word.
5
“The wind,” Brenda said and walked away from the pantry door. “This mansion can be very drafty.”
Mary kept her eyes focused on the pantry. She wasn’t about to back down. It was time to start fighting and stop being scared. Answers were needed, and the only way to get those answers was to chase after a shadow. “Come on,” she told Betty and stepped into the pantry.
“Oh dear,” Betty sighed and hurried after Mary into a long room lined with shelves holding canned goods, bags of flour, sugar, coffee, and other spices. The pantry smelled of flour and spices all mingled together like old friends sharing dusty stories.
Mary eased past one shelf after another, searching for a switch, a lever, anything that would open a hidden door. “There has to be a hidden door in here someplace,” she whispered to Betty. “Look for anything.”
Betty nodded and began touching everything in sight—bags of flour, canned goods, large bags of sugar. As she reached up to a high shelf to examine a bag of flour the bag accidentally spilled over and poured out a white river of dust onto Betty’s head. “Oh my!” Betty yelped.
Mary spun around, saw the bag of flour spilling down onto her best friend, and let out a hurried gasp. “Oh Betty!” She quickly pulled Betty out from under the bag of flour. Betty stood very still, looked down at her dress, looked back up at Mary, and began crying. “Oh,” Mary said, wrapping her arms around Betty. “It’s okay…you’re just covered with flour, that’s all.”
“I want to go home,” Betty cried, throwing her arms around Mary.
“I know,” Mary said and began coughing as the flour from Betty splashed up into her face, “but we can’t leave until we find out the truth.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Betty let go of Mary and looked up. Her hair and face were white. She looked so pitiful. “Mother is not going to be happy about this.”
“Oh.” Mary wiped Betty’s tears away.
“Oh, don’t feel sorry for me.” Betty sighed. “I’m just clumsy, that’s all.”
Mary felt a sweet smile touch her lips. She hugged Betty and then looked around. “Maybe we should call it a night. I guess there’s really no sense in chasing after whoever was hiding in this pantry. I mean, even if we did find a hidden door, what are the chances we would find any answers?”
“No,” Betty said in a determined voice, “we need to keep searching and stop…well, stop chasing our tails, I guess. The hour is getting late and we still don’t have any answers. And Mary,” Betty whispered, “I’m afraid to think about what might happen to us before the sun rises. That creepy old Ralph…oh, he gave me the creeps. I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” Mary whispered back and looked toward the pantry door. She spotted Brenda putting away the cheese. “Cousin Brenda isn’t even paying us any attention. She’s…afraid, too,” Mary pointed out.
“Cousin Brenda is afraid of Ralph,” Betty whispered in a serious voice.
Mary nodded in agreement. “I think Cousin Brenda fears that once her mother dies Ralph may go for her throat next.” Mary shook her head and gently wiped flour out of Betty’s hair. “We saw a dead body, Betty…and I think Cousin Brenda knows who the dead body belongs to.”
Betty coughed flour away from her face. “Mary, are you thinking that Ralph’s daughter called me instead of Cousin Brenda…and that the dead body we saw belongs to—”
“Ralph,” Mary finished for Betty. “I think the dead body we saw belongs to Ralph.” Mary pulled Betty deeper into the pantry and began brushing flour off her dress. “Cousin Brenda said that Ralph was very kind to her when he married your Aunt Gennifer, but then his attitude suddenly changed and became cruel. I may be wrong, but I think that’s when Matthew changed places with his brother. Why? That’s what we have to find out.”
“Goodness,” Betty whispered, “what a confusing mystery this is.”
“It sure is,” Mary agreed, “and we’re trapped right in the middle of it.” Mary looked around the pantry. “There has to be a hidden door inside this pantry someplace,” she told Betty. “There has to—” Mary suddenly stopped talking and looked down at her ankles.
“What?” Betty asked in a worried voice.
“I feel air…cold air,” Mary whispered. She bent down and ran her hands across her ankles. “Air is hitting my ankle…coming from that direction.” Mary pointed to the back wall. A wooden shelf holding canned goods covered the back wall. But, Mary saw, the bottom half of the shelf was missing; well, not the entire bottom half, but just enough to allow a person to squeeze through. “Come on,” she said.
Betty followed Mary to the shelf. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mary replied. She squatted down, stuck her hand through the missing part of the shelf, and began exploring the back wall. And there, to her relief, she felt a metal knob. “I found something,” she said and carefully twisted the metal knob. A hidden door slowly crept open. “Bingo.”
Betty bent down and peered through a dim opening barely large enough for a child to fit through, let alone an adult. “We’re going in…there?” she gulped.
“Yes. But not yet,” Mary said. She hurried Betty out of the pantry and closed the door. “Cousin Brenda, I think Betty and I may sit up for a bit longer and have some more coffee if that’s okay with you.”
Brenda shrugged her shoulders. “If that’s what you want to do,” she said. “I’m going to go read. I’m sure Ralph will be along shortly to show you to bed.” Brenda glanced at the pantry door. Then she told Betty and Mary goodnight and left the kitchen.
“Come on,” Mary said and ran back into the pantry. She made her way to the small door and peeked through. “Cousin Brenda is worried,” she told Betty. “We have to help her.”
“At least we know she’s not the killer,” Betty said in a relieved voice.
Mary nodded. “I’m sure as the hour grows later…and darker…we’ll stumble across more revelations that might force us to change our original theory.”
Betty glanced back over her shoulder. “Just a minute,” she said and hurried to fetch the fire iron and ran back to Mary. “I feel safe with this in my hand.”
“Good thinking,” Mary agreed, and, with a deep, nervous breath, she squeezed through the small door and entered a long, dim hallway covered with old burgundy carpet. “It’s a tight fit, Betty, so be careful.”
Betty sucked in her breath, handed Mary the fire iron, and cautiously squeezed her body through the small door. “I did it,” she said in a relieved voice.
“You did it,” Mary said and quickly stood to her feet.
Betty climbed to her feet and walked her eyes down the hallway. “So creepy,” she whispered.
“I know what you mean,” Mary replied, looking down at the old carpet. “Well, there’s no point in standing here. We might as well get moving.”
Betty took Mary’s left hand. “Lead the way,” she said in a nervous voice.
Mary drew in a deep breath and began to ease down the long hallway. She walked past old brass lamps attached to wooden walls; the lamps tossed out dim, weak light which transformed the hallway into a spooky, deadly tunnel filled with unknown, hidden dangers.
“This isn’t a mansion,” Mary whispered, “this place is a scary story that has no ending.”
“You can say that again,” Betty agreed.
Mary stopped when the hallway ended and branched off to her right and left. “Which way?” she asked.
“Left?” Betty suggested in a timid voice.
“Left it is,” Mary said and turned down another long hallway that ended at a flight of old wooden stairs. A door stood next to the stairs and opened up into a short hallway that dived under the main stairwell and came out on the far left side of the mansion. “Stairs,” Mary said, “and a door.” Mary bit down on her lip. “I think we should take the stairs.”
“Okay,” Betty agreed.
Mary looked around. She spotted two holes sitting at eye level on the wall to her left. “Look at this,” she said and hurried over to the holes and peered through them. “I can see clear into the foyer.” Mary moved back. “Take a look for yourself.”
Betty approached the holes and looked through. “Why, you can see the foyer,” she gasped.
“I bet anything there’s a portrait of Ralph hanging on the other side of this wall,” Mary told Betty.
“Golly…if someone were standing in the foyer and was looking at the portrait, they would see my eyes,” Betty gasped. “And oh my, wouldn’t that person be scared of…little ol’ me.” Betty looked at Mary with a sober face. “But I’m not a scary person. It’s just that…well, when you see something scary, your mind becomes very frightened.”
“Exactly,” Mary said. She peered through the holes again. “Whoever is behind this is working on our fear…and our confusion. I—” Mary hushed when she saw Brenda appear. She watched Brenda hurry to the front door, open it, look outside into the dark night, stand still for a minute, and then close the front door and rush up the main staircase. “Now what was that all about?” she asked, and before she could say another word she spotted a shadowy figure appear and vanish up the stairs after Brenda. “Oh my,” she said, spinning around. “I just saw the person wearing the black cloak run up the stairs after Cousin Brenda.”
“Oh dear,” Betty gasped.
Mary studied the wooden stairs. “Come on,” she said. She grabbed Betty’s hand and ran up the stairs. The stairs spiraled up to the second floor, creaking under Mary’s feet and making Betty very dizzy. When Mary reached the second floor, she rushed into a long hallway covered over with a dark green rug. The hallway was similar to the hidden hallway downstairs except…except…the smell of cherry tobacco was in the air.
“Betty, do you smell pipe smoke?”
Betty sniffed the air. “Cherry tobacco,” she whispered.
“Ralph…I mean, Matthew, if it is Matthew and not Ralph, has been in this hallway,” Mary pointed out. “Come on.” Mary worked her way down the hallway, passing sho
rter hallways resting on her left and right. When she came to the end of the hallway, she came across a single hallway to her right that seemed to circle downward. “So many hallways,” she said. “Which one do we take?”
“I don’t know,” Betty said as she wiped more flour out of her hair. “I guess we have to explore them all.”
“I guess we do,” Mary said and hurried back to the front of the hallway. “We’ll start with the hallways on our right.”
“Okay.”
Mary entered a short hallway that ended at a closed door. “Well, here we go,” she said and eased open the door. As she did, a dead body with a knife stuck in its back dropped forward out of a dark shadow and fell on her.
“No,” Mary cried out as the body pulled her down to the floor.
“Oh…my,” Betty said, spotting a dead man attacking her friend. And then Betty did what she always did when the situation was too much for her frail heart to handle: Betty fainted.
“Get off,” Mary cried as Betty collapsed down onto the floor next to her. “Get off.” Mary struggled with the dead body and finally managed to push it off her. She quickly crawled to her knees, grabbed Betty’s hands, and pulled her unconscious friend back to the main hallway. “My goodness,” she said, breathing hard, “what a fright that was.”
Taking a minute to catch her breath, Mary looked up and down the hallway, expecting the shadowy figure to appear. When no shadowy figure…or creepy old man…did appear, she gently pushed Betty’s hair away from her eyes, stood up, and cautiously walked back to the dead body.
“Be brave,” Mary whispered in a shaky voice. “It’s only a…dead body for crying out loud. Now focus on being practical and sensible. A murder has taken place, and you have to get to the bottom of this story. You are a newspaper woman, after all, and your husband has taught you to be determined…so stop acting like a scared little girl and grow up.”
Mary approached the dead body. It was lying down face first. She bent down and studied the knife sticking in the body’s back and shivered all over. “How horrible,” she said and shook her head. “Mister, whoever you are…Ralph or Matthew…forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Mary drew in a nervous breath and began going through the coat pockets attached to the clothing the dead man was wearing. “What is this?” she asked, feeling an object resting inside one of the pockets. Mary carefully drew out a man’s brown wallet. “A wallet,” she whispered. She quickly snatched the wallet open and began searching through it. “Money…and…what is this?” she asked, finding a folded up piece of paper hidden in a secret compartment of the wallet. She unfolded the piece of paper. “Why, this is a birth certificate.”
Mary Had a Little Scare Page 7