Addison Lockhart 02-Rosecliff Manor Haunting

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “Cops are here,” Rose said. “Why not tell them your cockamamie story? Get yourself thrown in a place with a bunch of other kooks. Works for me.”

  Addison turned to Vivian. “I don’t know what else to do, Vivian. I tried. And I’m sorry. I’ll keep trying.”

  Rose gripped Addison by the arm, tossing her toward the attic door. “I’ve had enough. Shut your trap and get downstairs.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “Mrs. Clark, I’m Officer North, and this is Officer Shumaker,” Officer North said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “We’ve done a full sweep of your place. We didn’t find anyone else. So either she was alone as she stated or whoever was with her is gone. You can put the rifle down now, ma’am. You’re safe.”

  Rose placed the rifle on the coffee table next to her. “I won’t feel safe until you’ve hauled her away. There’s something wrong with this one. She’s not right … in the head. Talk to her for a few minutes. You’ll see what I mean. She’s loony. Tried to get me to believe she speaks to the dead, if you can believe it.”

  Officer North flashed Addison a look implying he thought he might have a little more than an average break-in on his hands. “You mind explaining why you broke in to this woman’s house tonight?”

  “I … umm … I was here earlier today, taking a tour of the house, and I …”

  And I, nothing.

  There wasn’t anything to say.

  Not this time.

  A sting of regret poured through her. Regret for not telling Luke. Not trusting he’d understand. Handcuffs were applied, and her Miranda rights were read to her. She was then escorted out the front door. Arms folded, and eyes stern, Rose followed close behind.

  Vivian stood just outside the front door, a single tear trailing down her rosy cheek. Addison passed within a few inches of her, turned, and tried to offer a slight smile as a means of comfort. When she did, she noticed something. It wasn’t Vivian standing there. It was Grace. Seeing Grace up close, she could finally tell them apart. Vivian had a small birthmark on the side of her neck. Grace didn’t.

  Fists clenched into balls at her side, Grace yelled, “You have to do something! You can’t leave! Everyone leaves!”

  Grace’s turning point had come too late.

  “I’m sorry,” Addison whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  The tears streamed now—wild and angry. Furious.

  And then Grace screamed.

  And screamed.

  And screamed.

  Something unusual happened. Officer North paused for a moment, his eyes darting around almost like he’d heard a sound he couldn’t quite explain.

  Grace leaned her back against the house’s exterior and sagged to the floor. Vivian reappeared and sat next to her sister, whispering something in her ear.

  Voice unsteady, Grace said, “Tell Mama I’m sorry I spilled soda all over my blue dress before the party. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

  No. Not again. Not this time. The new paint. The wallpaper. It hadn’t worked before. There was no reason to believe it would be any different this time.

  “Tell her!” Grace demanded.

  Addison shook her head.

  “Look,” Rose pointed. “There she goes. She’s doing it again!”

  “What is it?” Officer North asked. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” Addison replied. “I thought I felt a bug crawling on me. I must have been mistaken.”

  Officer Shumaker opened the door to the patrol car. Addison arced her head back, taking one last look at Vivian and Grace. The anguish of it all hit her, gushing like a seismic wave. She’d let them down.

  “Rose,” Addison yelled.

  Rose bent down and smiled, pleased to see Addison in the back of the police car at last. “What is it now?”

  “Grace is sorry she spilled soda all over her blue dress.”

  “What … did … you … say?”

  “She didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The sound of metal bars clanking together in front of her felt like the last nail being driven into a steel, six-by-eight coffin. Addison had never felt so trapped, so helpless, so desperate to taste the kind of freedom she’d always taken for granted.

  Of course, she had no one to blame but herself.

  The details from the night Vivian and Grace died were clearer now, but there were still so many holes to plug. How to plug them was just as much of a mystery as figuring out how Grace fell from the attic window after what now appeared to be Vivian’s accidental death. To get to the truth, she’d need to know the identity of everyone in the room at the time of the twins’ deaths. And to find one person willing to provide her with answers.

  Down the other end of the rectangular hallway, a familiar female voice found its way into Addison’s cell. Lia McReedy, a medical examiner she’d met months before at Grayson Manor. What was she doing here?

  Addison wrapped her hands around the bars of the cell and shouted, “Lia?”

  Addison heard Lia say, “Who’s in holding?”

  A male voice answered, “Ahh, I don’t know. We busted some chick for breaking and entering. Let’s see … says here her name is Addison Lockhart. Know her?”

  Several seconds later, a perplexed Lia stood in front of Addison’s cell. A few inches shorter than Addison, Lia had chocolate brown hair cut into a bob, and wore colored contacts to accentuate her already stunning blue eyes. Every time Addison saw her, she was always dressed the same way—in black leggings and oversized boat neck T-shirts that showed off her ample bosom while flattering her midsection enough to disguise a small bump Addison assumed wasn’t a pregnancy.

  “How’s your grandmother?” Lia asked. “Are you still telling people you don’t know where she is?”

  “I haven’t heard from her in a while. It’s true.”

  “Even though she covered up what happened at Grayson Manor decades ago, I doubt anyone cares about it anymore. She doesn’t need to stay away. The case was closed months ago.”

  Addison felt the same. Unfortunately, her grandmother didn’t agree.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “Why?” Lia asked.

  “I thought you were the ME in Rhinebeck.”

  “I’m the ME for Dutchess County. It includes Pleasant Valley and Rhinebeck.”

  “What happened in Pleasant Valley to bring you here?”

  Lia avoided the question. “You’re the last person I’d expect to see behind a cell. I heard you broke into someone’s place?”

  Addison nodded. “Yeah, it’s a long story.”

  Lia glanced at her watch. “I’ve got time. Maybe I can help you. I have a hard time believing you’re a criminal. Besides, you helped me out of a bad situation once.”

  She was right. Addison had almost forgotten rescuing Lia from a jaded ex-boyfriend months earlier.

  “It sounds a lot worse than it is. I had a good reason for doing what I did.”

  “Which is?”

  “Earlier today, my boyfriend Luke and I were given a tour of Rosecliff Manor.”

  Lia’s eyes shifted from Addison to the floor, and she began gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip. “Why were you on a tour of Rosecliff? I know the owner. Shrewd woman. She’s not the type to open her house to strangers.”

  “You’re right. She had no interest in showing us the house. Then her son Derek showed up, and everything changed.”

  “How does this end with you being locked up?”

  “I returned to the house tonight and let myself in without Rose’s permission.”

  “Why?”

  “During the tour, I wanted to see the attic,” Addison said. “I was told it was locked, that the key had been lost a long time ago. I found it.”

  “What do you mean you found it?”

  “When I was taking the tour, I found it in the library.”

  “And you didn’t hand it over?”


  Addison shook her head.

  “Why not?” Lia asked.

  “I knew if I did, Rose still wouldn’t let me see the attic.”

  “What’s this obsession you have with the attic? I mean, everyone around here knows the story, but what does it have to do with you?”

  “I was looking for evidence.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  Prepped and curious, Lia was right where Addison wanted her to be. The bomb was ready to drop. “I don’t believe the deaths of Vivian and Grace were accidents. Not entirely. And you want to know what else I think? You don’t believe they were accidents either.”

  CHAPTER 22

  In no time, Lia shifted from curious to defensive. “I have no idea what you’re talking about or why you’d even say something like that. All I can say is, your assumption is wrong. I don’t even know much about that case.”

  “You do know Thomas Gregory though, don’t you?” Addison asked.

  She paused before responding. “He’s the guy who wrote the book about the town’s history.”

  “He’s also the guy who said he suspected the cops could have done a better job, among other things.”

  “So?”

  “So … do you know him, or don’t you?”

  “I … like I just said, I know he wrote the book.”

  “Oh, I think you know him a lot better than that, Lia.”

  Lia took a step back. “Why are you saying this?”

  “I saw your picture at his house. It was in a little frame he’d leaned against the windowsill. I almost didn’t recognize you at first, but that’s because the first time I met you at Grayson Manor, your hair was blond. Now it’s brown, just like in the picture I saw.”

  Lia looked at Addison like she was trying to decide if she wanted to continue the charade. “Okay, maybe I know Tom a bit more than I let on.”

  “I don’t just think you know him … I think you gave him the idea to write about the girls in the first place. I mean, he’s passionate about his convictions, but something else is driving him, or someone else. You.”

  Lia stepped forward again until the only thing separating her face and Addison’s was the metal bars between them. “Keep your friggin’ voice down!”

  “Why? Who cares if anyone hears?”

  “I care.”

  “I’m not trying to get you in trouble, Lia. I wouldn’t. We’re on the same page here. I want answers as much as you do. And what would really help me right now is if you told me what you know that everyone else doesn’t.”

  “I don’t get it. Why are you involved? Why does it matter to you?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  The rubber soles of a guards shoes squeaked their way toward Addison’s cell. The guard fumbled around his pocket for a key, inserted it into the hole, jerked his head to the side, and grunted, “You’re out of here, Lockhart.”

  “I can leave? Already?” Addison asked. “How?”

  “Dunno. I was just sent back here to get you.”

  “Looks like you made bail,” Lia said. “I have to go.”

  The guard turned, heading the same direction he came from. Halfway back, he turned, “You comin’ or what?”

  Before Addison could go after her, Lia had already disappeared into another room. Addison followed the guard back to the office, nervous to face Luke when she rounded the corner. Would he be angry? Would he understand? Her nervousness led to uncontrollable chatter, and she found herself saying to the guard, “I guess my boyfriend came to get me.”

  The guard turned, “I don’t know nothin’ about your boyfriend. All I know is, he’s not the reason you’re free.”

  CHAPTER 23

  “Rose, what are you doing here?” Addison asked.

  Rose sat in a chair in front of Officer North’s desk. Neither looked pleased.

  “I’ve dropped the charges,” Rose said. “You’re free to go.”

  “I … don’t understand?”

  Rose snapped the clasp on the front of her purse shut and stood. “What’s to understand? I’ve explained everything to the police, and they’ve agreed to let you go. You shouldn’t be babbling on. You should be happy.”

  What had Rose explained?

  And how?

  And why?

  Any story Rose had given in an effort to undo the damage would have been fabricated, a consequence that could have Rose facing her own criminal charges. It was a risky move either way.

  “What did you say to get me released?”

  Rose gave Addison a look that said she couldn’t fathom why Addison couldn’t leave well enough alone and keep her mouth shut. “As I explained to Officer North, in talking to my son tonight, I learned you left your wallet at the house earlier today when you stopped by. He’d tried calling to let me know you were on your way, but I was already in bed and didn’t answer. He told you where the spare key was and advised you to pop in and out without waking me, which, of course, you did, until your overly nosey nature led you to the attic. No matter now. I know you meant no harm.”

  It was, of course, a well-orchestrated lie.

  Addison thanked Rose and turned her attention to the waiting room and to Luke, whose pained expression made it clear just how hurt he was over the ordeal. “Luke, I—”

  “Let’s not talk about this now,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

  She nodded, and nodded, and nodded, the only thing she could do to keep from falling apart.

  Addison and Luke descended the steps in front of the police station. Rose followed close behind. “I’d like to speak to Addison. Alone.”

  Luke looked at Rose. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “It is, and we’re all tired. I could have left her in jail tonight, and I didn’t. I’m sure Addison’s aware I didn’t come here as some kind of Good Samaritan.”

  “I’m aware,” Addison replied.

  “We’ve all been through a lot tonight,” Luke said. “If I promise she’ll stop by in the morning, can it wait?”

  “It cannot,” Rose said. “Why don’t you run along, Luke? I’ll see she gets home all right.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Luke did not agree to “run along,” as Rose suggested, but he did offer an alternative solution. Rose could drive Addison home in her vehicle while Luke followed behind. He wasn’t letting Addison out of his sight. Good deed or not, it wasn’t up for negotiation.

  Rose’s car was an older model Cadillac in pristine condition. Addison opened the passenger-side door, slid across the tan leather seats, and buckled up. “Your son didn’t have anything to do with this, did he?”

  “He’s not aware of any of it. And I have no interest in telling him either. He’d just fuss and coddle me until I suffocate. I figure if I’m wrong about you, if you are a criminal, well, I can always blow your head off if you try for round two.”

  At least she was honest. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “I’m not helping you. I’m helping myself. I thought the two of us could have a chat while I drove you home.”

  Rose was different now, not only in tone of voice, but in expression, like she’d shed one of her thick outer layers and lowered her guard.

  “What would you like to ask me?”

  Rose put the car in drive and pulled onto the road, the reflection of Luke’s familiar headlights glistening in Addison’s passenger-side mirror while they drove along.

  “I’m a skeptic, you know,” Rose said. “Someone who doesn’t believe in life after death. I was raised a non-believer. It’s the only truth I’ve ever known. And yet, part of me wants to believe you. Who knows why? I struggled to get back to sleep tonight, and I imagined I’d spend the rest of my nights much the same way if I didn’t at least hear what you have to say.”

  “Are you saying you believe what I told you before, about the curtains and the stain on Grace’s dress?”

  “I’m saying, I’m not closed to it. Not entirely. Still, you’ll have to conv
ince me.”

  “How?”

  “If you can communicate with Viv and Grace, prove it. I’ll tell you something only they will know.”

  “I want you to believe me, but it doesn’t work like that.”

  “Why not? Aren’t you some kind of medium? Aren’t you supposed to be able to conjure things up whenever you like?”

  Addison shifted in her seat, facing Rose. “I see the girls when they want to be seen. It’s not up to me. It’s up to them.”

  Rose sighed. “You realize this isn’t helping you any, right?”

  “Think of it this way—if I was a fake, wouldn’t I at least try to give you what you’re asking?”

  Rose turned onto the freeway. “Tell me how it works then. What happens when you do see them? Tell me straight. Assuming I might believe you, how is it you came to be in the lives of my girls, and just what do you mean to accomplish by breaking into my house?”

  “The first time I saw your girls was at a funeral several months ago. I was there for someone else. I looked over, and they were chasing each other around your husband’s grave. At the time, I didn’t realize they weren’t alive.”

  “When did you?”

  “They appeared to me again several days ago, this time in a dream they seemed to be controlling. I saw the past, your manor, your husband’s car, the cat.”

  “How old are they now? What do they look like?”

  Addison answered her questions, giving the most detailed description she could about the girls’ hair, their dresses, anything to justify what she had seen was real.

  “What are they like?” Rose asked. “What do they say to you when they talk to you?”

  “I’ve only seen them a few times. Vivian usually does all the talking. Grace hides.”

  To Addison’s surprise, Rose let out a slight giggle. “She was always the skittish one of the two. Afraid of everything, she was.”

  “I don’t think she understands what happened to her like Vivian does.”

  “You mentioned the stained dress earlier, and I’ll admit, it got me thinking. No one else knew I changed their clothes that day. Their father was still at work, and their brother was at a neighbor’s house. What I don’t understand is, how did you manage to get the key to the attic? It’s been missing for ages.”