“Brylee, you know that I can tell you’re terrified. I’m afraid for you. If she hasn’t shown herself then she could be planning something huge.”
I swallowed hard. I knew this could be true, but I was choosing the route of denial. I sort of liked this route. It brought out a different side of me, one that made me walk around the world without fear. Instead, I stood tall, like nothing could hurt me. That was foolish thinking and anyone could see that. I was not ten feet tall and witch proof. I was human and I was very scared.
My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I reached over and answered. “Hi,” I said to Ephraim, surprised he was calling me. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. I just wanted to call and tell you I loved you.” He paused. “I know that I haven’t been myself for a while, but I wanted to tell you that I’m working on that and I’m sorry.”
A smile grew on my face. He was right, he hadn’t been himself. When I first met Ephraim, he had been going through a break-up and he was fighting with his cousins. He was down and depressed, and hid himself from everyone. I found him, the real him, and I brought out who he really was, pulled him to the surface. Then, just as he was revealing himself to me, his sister died and he discovered his mother wasn’t who she said she was. So, if he was off lately I couldn’t blame him for that. He was my family and I his. I would be patient with him until I could bring him to the surface once more.
“Ephraim, don’t ever apologize to me again for what you’re going through.” Hala walked out of the kitchen giving us our privacy.
“It’s just that you deserve to be with someone happy and vibrant. Someone who can focus on you.” For a moment, I thought he was going to break some awful news to me. “I promise you right here and now that I will be that person for you. I will bring you happiness and everything you desire. I promise to be the man you first met.”
Tears pooled in my eyes and I couldn’t speak for a moment.
“You there?” he asked.
I nodded even though he couldn’t see it.
“Yes, I’m here. Ephraim you are that man for me. You can’t be any more perfect than you already are,” I said, fighting the tears. “Don’t blame yourself for your circumstances. You are strong and we will get through this, together.”
He breathed a sigh of what I guessed was relief.
“As man and wife, I hope.”
I laughed out loud and couldn’t help it. “Ephraim, I can’t make promises of when, but I can tell you this, someday I will be your wife and you will be my husband.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now, I have to go.”
With a few more I love you’s, we got off the phone. Hearing from him was just what I had needed to help me get through the night. I hadn’t realized how down I had become. My parents left me here, alone. Ephraim was all I had, not counting Lyn, who, by the way, had appeared in Hala’s kitchen at the precise moment that I told Ephraim how much I loved him. She made a gagging sound and I threatened to throw a fork at her.
After Hala drove for what seemed like forever through the woods of New Jersey, we ended up pulling into a driveway leading to a huge mansion. Now, when I say mansion, I mean huge house with a water fountain in the front yard and pillars that resembled those in Greek architecture. This house was built for someone very wealthy. I sat in the car, staring up at the home, wondering what this lady had in store for me tonight. Lyn felt the same, judging by her remarks about what sort of night this was going to be.
“Good lord! Do you see this house?” Lyn remarked.
“Yes, Lynley I can see it. It’s amazing.”
Hala looked at me her eyes wide. “Lynley is with us?”
“Always,” I confirmed. She smiled and patted my shoulder.
I looked to the house once more.
My first thought was this person was a lonely housewife who had recently lost her husband.
We walked to the front door and Hala rang the doorbell. To my surprise, a butler answered the door. My mouth fell open in shock at the fact that the lady of the house employed an actual butler. I suppose my shock should have been contained, we were, after all, in the ritzy part of Jersey.
“My name is Kristof,” the man said as he took our coats. “Madam is waiting in the sitting room for you, Miss.”
I smiled at him as he led Hala and an unseen Lyn into another room. I walked past a grand piano that seemed to have collected dust, as if it hadn’t been touched in years. Then I saw stairs leading up to the second floor and the other rooms in the house. A child sat on the top step and I waved to her. She waved back and gave me a huge smile. She must have been happy to see me because she giggled in excitement.
The sitting room came into view and I saw the lady of the house. She stood up and took my hand in hers. “Brylee, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Margaret Richards.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I told her.
“Sit, please. Make yourself comfortable.”
I sat down across from her on a white leather couch. Kristof brought tea and little cookies. I took the tea, but wasn’t really interested in the sweets.
“Thank you,” I told him. He smiled at me and left the room.
“So, Margaret, I don’t know why I am here. Hala didn’t want to tell me,” I admitted.
She nodded and sipped her tea. “Please, just call me Maggie.”
I took a sip of tea and welcomed the warmth. The house held a certain chill and I needed to warm myself.
“Why do you need me?” I asked bluntly.
She didn’t seem to find this rude and nodded like she understood that we needed to discuss the situation.
“I had this house built four years ago. My husband wanted to have a new construction and didn’t want to move into a house where someone else had once made memories,” she paused and drank from her cup. “So, we hired contractors and built our dream home. We started out a mediocre couple. Coming from both rich and poor backgrounds. We built our wealth together and were quite proud of it.”
I could tell she was proud by the way she carried herself and the way her house was decorated. No bare white walls here. No, these were painted in rich colors and adorned with sconces and large paintings.
“My husband got sick about six months after we moved in. He started complaining of headaches,” she paused. “We finally decided to get it checked out. Turns out he had a massive brain tumor. He died three weeks after diagnosis.”
My heart sank. I couldn’t imagine anything like that.
“I remember he would describe seeing another person in the house with us quite frequently. At night he would be scared to go down to the kitchen by himself in fear of seeing the person, or ghost.”
Chills ran through me because I could relate all too well.
“Did he say what he saw?” I asked.
“On some occasions he would see a little person and on others he would see a grown woman. She would slam cupboards and throw pots and pans,” she said, tears now shimmering in her eyes. “I never saw anything so I figured it was the tumor. After he died I hoped I would see him …”
She stopped and grabbed a box of tissues. She dabbed her eyes and I realized she needed a moment, and I gave it to her.
“I never saw him but I do see the woman in the kitchen. She seems angry, or upset that I am around because she throws things at me. Dishes, pots, food, anything. I have tried to console her but it doesn’t work.” She looked me in the eye making sure I was following.
“Go on.”
“And I see the little person, except she isn’t a little person, she’s a child.”
“May I ask if your daughter sees these apparitions as well?”
She held her tea cup in her hands and I noticed they shook a bit.
“I don’t have children, Miss Branson.”
Chapter 22
“Ah, well that would explain it then,” I told a confused Maggie.
“Explain what?”
“Why the little girl at the t
op of the stairs was so excited to see me,” I told her as I got up. She followed me, her mouth hanging open.
“What little girl?”
I stopped. I realized I wasn’t being fair to her leaving her in the dark like this.
“I saw a little girl sitting at the top of your stairs when I first entered the house. She seemed so excited to see me. I realize now that she was a ghost and she was excited because I could see her.”
“How … how can you see her and not know?” she stuttered.
“How do I not know their dead you mean?” She nodded. “Sometimes if they’re a newly deceased person they can look just like you or me. And other times they appear to me like …” I struggled for the right word. “Like a translucent image shown in front of me. They look so real but I can see through them just a bit. It was dark up on the top of the stairs and maybe I couldn’t really see her correctly.”
We reached the stairs and the girl was gone. I knew I would have to go upstairs to find her. She wouldn’t make this easy on me. Of course not.
I didn’t say anything to Maggie, I just went. She followed behind me, keeping her distance.
When I reached the landing, I looked down the hall and she wasn’t there. So I picked the first bedroom to my right. I slowly pushed the door open, and it groaned as it moved. The room was empty. So I turned and decided to try the room across from it. That’s when I heard laughter down the hallway.
“Did you hear that?” Maggie asked.
I nodded and followed the sound. She stayed by the bedroom.
“Maggie you don’t have to come with me, but I’m here to help you find out why they are here, alright?”
“I’m just scared.” Her once proud shoulders slumped.
I reached out and held her hand in mine. I found it funny that a seventeen year old girl was leading a grown woman through her haunted home. I didn’t say anything to Maggie, though. Truth be told, I was sort of scared myself, but I did have more experience in this.
We reached the master bedroom at the end of the hall. I was certain the girl was here. I pushed the door open and found her. She was jumping on a huge bed. She seemed to be having so much fun and I hated to ruin it for her.
“Hi, I’m Brylee,” I introduced myself. The girl stopped jumping and flopped down on her belly. She sat up and smiled at me.
“I don’t see her. Where is she?” Maggie asked looking around wildly.
Instantly, the girl’s face went from happy to sinister. She flew off the bed and landed in front of Maggie, her face twisted and angry. She didn’t look like a little girl any longer. Instead she looked like an evil child spawned from the devil himself, with her neck twisted and broken, her hair brittle. She was pale and gaunt. I remembered that when Violet got upset with me I had seen the ugly side of her as well. This little girl was mad and it was entirely directed toward Maggie.
“Get out of here! Leave! I want you gone! I hate you!” she shouted. Maggie was clueless. She didn’t see the girl nor did she hear the angry words directed at her.
“You have to leave the room, now,” I said as I pushed her out of her own bedroom.
“Why?” She stumbled past me, trying to see what I saw.
“Do you trust me?” I asked her.
It was an unfair question really, she had just met me. But for some reason she nodded and left the room. The instant she did, the girl changed. Her brown curls returned to her cherubic face. She was now the little angel I had seen at the top of the stairs.
She returned to the bed and began jumping. Her appearance was normal again and for that I was thankful. I didn’t like being around the spirits when their anger went flying. I hated seeing the wicked side of them. I wasn’t sure why it showed the way it did, not all of the dead were evil. Why did they look so terrible?
“What’s your name?” I asked her as I sat on the bed. Her jumping made light movement on the bed instead of that of a real child.
“Gertie.”
“How long have you lived here, Gertie?”
She stopped jumping and sat next to me. “A while.”
I needed more from her. I needed to ask the difficult questions. The one’s the spirits didn’t like answering.
“Do you live here with your mother?”
“No. I don’t have a mother anymore. I’m alone. It’s just me and the mean lady,” she said as she hung her head. An overwhelming sadness overcame me. I had to rein it in. This was not the time to get emotional.
“Are you talking about the lady in the kitchen?”
She looked puzzled. “No. I’m talking about the one that just left, she’s the mean one. She killed him. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” She stood up and started jumping and giggling again.
My head spun. I looked at the door, where I knew Maggie was now standing and probably listening. I had to get her to go downstairs so I could get some more information. Maybe if she was gone Gertie would be more willing to talk to me.
“Wait here,” I told Gertie. I opened the bedroom door and, sure enough, Maggie almost fell through. Her ear was red from pressing it so hard against the door.
“I need you to go get Hala for me.” I smiled.
“Is everything okay?” she asked nervously.
“Yep. All good.” She smiled back tentatively and went downstairs.
Now I could talk to Gertie for a few minutes without interruption.
“Go on, Gertie. Who did she kill?”
She sniffed before replying, “Her husband. She killed him and then moved in here to be with the man, the other one who died.”
Whoa! I was now completely confused. “Wait, what?”
“She lived in another house before this one. That house was where she killed her first husband, so that she could be with Rick.” The way she spat out his name shocked me, and I guessed she didn’t like Rick. “Then they moved in here and Rick died. But, she didn’t kill Rick. I think she really loved him. She didn’t really love her first husband.” She stopped jumping and laid on the bed. “She doesn’t really love anyone. Not like she loved Rick.”
“How do you know this? Didn’t you die on this land?” I asked her still confused. How could she know that she had killed her first husband if she was here in this house?
Gertie shook her head and her hair fell around her angelic face. “I haunt her. She’s my mom, and she killed me and my daddy. Now I’m stuck here following her around. I hate her.” She began to cry softly into the bedspread.
I literally fell off the bed and my butt slammed to the floor. My heart pounded in my chest and my throat went dry. That’s why she hated her and that’s why she was still here. Maggie had killed this little girl and her dad. But, that didn’t give me the answer to who the woman was in the kitchen. I would have to find out later. I had a murdered child sitting right in front of me and I had no idea what to do.
“How … how did she kill you?” Fear coursed through me; I had a murderer right down the stairs.
“I saw her hurt Daddy. She didn’t know I was there,” she said as the tears streamed down her cheeks. “She shot daddy and when she did, I screamed. I tried to hide but she found me.” She stopped, staring into space like she was remembering it all over again. “She hugged me and I thought it would be okay, but her hug was too tight. My neck hurt after the hug and I think her hug killed me.” I looked at her neck and saw that it was broken. I clenched my fists. She broke her neck!
“Where’s your daddy?”
“He’s not here with me. I can’t leave her. I’m stuck here. I want to go away from her. Can you help me?”
I nodded. I could do that and I would do it. Now that I knew the truth, I could help Gertie go free. She was here for a reason and that was because she wanted her mom to pay for what she did. I stood up and held her hand.
“I will make sure that you move on to another place. A better one, but first I need you to tell me what happened. Tell me everything you can remember.”
I stalled as long as I could. M
aggie was wondering why I was outside and who I was on my cell phone with. Luckily, Hala had an idea of what was going on, due to her own gifts, and she kept her occupied. Having Hala around was helping immensely.
I hung up my cell and prayed that everything would be okay. Gertie stood with me, smiling up at me.
“Gertie, I just got off the phone with a detective. He said police have been looking for your mommy for a long time. Did she change her name and move?”
She nodded.
“Well, he will be here very soon. He will make sure she is punished for what she did to your daddy, and to you,” my voice cracked. Tears streamed heavily down my face.
“How do I go away now?”
“I honestly don’t know. I do know that I helped someone once. He saw something, something that told him it was time to move on from here. Does that make sense?”
She nodded and looked over my shoulder. Again, her angelic face turned hideous and I knew that Maggie was approaching. I pulled in all of my strength and turned to face her.
“Everything okay out here?” she asked through clenched teeth. She was upset.
“They will be, soon enough.” I could hear the sounds of sirens approaching in the distance.
Maggie’s face paled. She probably got nervous anytime that happened.
“What’s wrong Maggie?”
She fiddled with the zipper on her coat. “Nothing. I’m just wondering why you’re out here when you came to rid the house of ghosts. There are no ghosts out here or are there?”
She wanted me to get rid of the spirit of her daughter. It was then that I realized there was no kitchen ghost. Her husband had never seen an angry woman, but he probably saw an angry child. A child who wanted to warn him about the woman he was married to. A child, killed by her own mother. I dug my nails into my palm, hoping for a distraction. I was close to kicking her in the teeth, but I refrained myself because two black sedans pulled into the long driveway, sirens blaring. I grabbed Maggie by the shirt to keep her from running away.
The White Door Page 11