Haunted Read online

  “By who? Who’s going to find out, other than you?”

  “Dammit!” Alex exclaimed, checking his watch. “I’ve got to go out to meet with a client. What do you say we discuss this later? In the meantime, would you at least think about what I said?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Alex bent and gave me a peck on the cheek before flying out the door. I sat and thought about it. Then I got up and began work on the case.

  My first stop was the town newspaper, the Hope Falls Gazette, where I hoped to do some basic background research. I met Carol at the front desk and she led me into the archives. There I was given access to a microfiche machine and the central catalog. It didn’t take long before I was buried in articles pertaining to the Cartwright family.

  Catherine Cartwright had been correct in identifying her family as both wealthy and influential at the turn of the twentieth century. Jason Cartwright had accumulated the family’s great wealth through timber and railroad connections that he played to his advantage, and to his partner’s ruin. But everything soon fell apart, beginning with the marriage of the elder daughter of the family, Jane, to a man who turned out to be a chiseler. The family fortunes soon suffered under his direction. Further calamity struck when soon after the wedding, the youngest son chose to run away with a priceless family heirloom. He was never seen or heard from again.

  The family did move from their lavish home in Seattle to their ancestral home in Thorny Springs during the war. Little was written of the family afterwards.

  I dug deeper after more information on the wedding. It turned out that the wedding of Jane Cartwright to one Arthur Sherlock occurred on June 30, 1929, at the family ancestral home in Thorny Springs. It was explained in an article that in this way the wedding could be organized without interfering with the busy operation of the household in Seattle. There were over five hundred guests in attendance. The festivities were marred by a confrontation between the youngest Cartwright and Mr. Sherlock. The groom accused the youngest son of stealing some jewels from the family vault. The young man stormed off and was never heard from again.

  This confrontation seemed the most likely place to begin looking for a ghost stranded in our realm. But before I could investigate further, I received a call on my cell phone that put my investigation on hold.

  * * *

  “What do you mean Dale abandoned you,” I asked Althea while we stood in the hallway outside her Lamaze class.

  “It was before the class, while we were browsing through some literature on the birthing process. He suddenly turned green and stormed out of the room. I found him barfing in the bushes out front. He’s refusing to come back in.”

  “Yes, I passed him on the way in. He looked nervous and upset but wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “That’s my Dale, always worried about his little pooky-poo.”

  I’ll just bet he is, I thought without saying. I tried not to be sick at the pet name while I probed for more information.

  “Considering that he refuses to talk with me, what exactly is it that you want me to do?” I asked.

  “Well, isn’t it obvious?”

  “No.”

  “I’m offering you the honor of being my birthing partner.”

  “What!”

  “You heard me right. Aren’t you excited?”

  “Maybe a bit too excited,” I suggested.

  “Oh, silly you. Don’t worry, it will be fun.”

  “Look, Althea. I recognize the great honor you’re offering me and all…”

  I wasn’t able to finish before the instructor stepped before the class and clapped her hands to get our attention.

  “Settle down everyone. The class is about to begin, so grab your partner and find an open area in which to do your work.”

  Althea grabbed my arm and dragged me to the front of the class.

  “Hello, I’m Anne Harwood,” the instructor said, extending a hand to me. “Just call me Coach Anne.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m Chloe Boston,” I said shaking her hand.

  “I’m so glad that you were able to fill in at the last minute for Mr. Gordon. It appears that he may be unable to participate in the birthing process.”

  “Wait a second. This is only for this morning, right?” I asked her.

  The instructor simply smiled and clapped her hands together to get everyone in order. She then moved through the ranks of students introducing herself to other late arrivals.

  “This is only for this morning, right?” I asked Althea directly.

  “Oh Chloe. You’re such a silly goose,” Althea replied, skillfully dodging my question all together. “Let’s do some heavy breathing exercises.”

  Althea began hyperventilating, vigorously. I was pretty sure that she wasn’t performing the breathing exercise correctly, for one thing I assumed you were supposed to be lying down while giving birth, but I let her continue to distract herself. The instructor wasn’t as lenient.

  “What are you doing, Mrs. Gordon?” Ms. Harwood asked in passing.

  “Breathing… exercise,” Althea managed to gasp between breaths.

  “The thing you should first recognize is that this is a Lamaze class, not a Le Mans class. Slow your breathing. Slow.”

  I watched in wonder as the instructor used nothing more than a calming voice and a gentle touch to slow Althea’s breathing. Rather than passing out, as she surely would have if she’d kept panting the way she was, Althea began to smile as her breathing slowed. I even started to relax a little. This made me wonder if I might get something out of this class after all.

  The class began in earnest. It didn’t take long before I was performing and demonstrating the various techniques presented by the instructor. I didn’t do this because Althea didn’t understand or because she was getting the moves wrong. I did this because I wanted to try the moves out myself to see if they fit me. I found that most of them were very relaxing, and that they fit me to a tee. I enjoyed all of them, except for the pushing.

  “Gee, Chloe. I almost feel like I could nurse you through a delivery now.”

  I’m not sure she meant that as a compliment, but I decided to take it that way.

  “Gee, thanks, Althea. Wasn’t it interesting to perform the last few exercises side-by-side?”

  Althea glowered at me. Truthfully, I can take anything from Althea, just as long as she doesn’t break out into verse, but she just couldn’t resist.

  Chloe, oh Chloe, you wonderful maid,

  Canst you see what I see in your trade?

  You hide from maternity,

  To bolster your maturity,

  Oh why, oh why, Chloe, why?

  That’s as far as I made it before I had to run out front for fear that I might be joining Gordon with my head in the bushes. I hope Coach Anne had a talk with her about bothering the other mothers.

  * * *

  “So, you absolutely insist on pursuing this case?” Alex persisted after I had made it home.

  “Yes,” was my simple reply.

  “I guess I’m willing to give you the latitude to do a little research, but that’s all. Alright?”

  “Alright.”

  With that, Alex stalked from the kitchen allowing me to get back to my research. Next step: I needed access to the Cartwright family archives. That would require a call.

  Again, I managed to establish a scratchy connection to the old place in Thorny Springs. Thomas Cartwright answered the phone.

  “Hello, Mr. Cartwright? This is Chloe Boston.”

  “Yes. What can I do for you, Ms. Boston?”

  “I was wondering if you had any old family records or photos at the family home that may be of use in tracking down our subject.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t know about that. Perhaps I should put Kate on the line to answer your question.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be any bother.”

  “No bother at all. She is still awake. Hold on, please.”

  The line went silent for a time, the
n the voice of Miss Cartwright came on the line, clear as a bell.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Miss Cartwright. This is Chloe Boston. I was just talking with your brother over the possibility of stopping by your home to look through any old family records or photos you may have that would help to find our subject.”

  The voice that replied sounded tired but fully cognizant.

  “Yes. I believe that we have trunks of such information stored in the attic. But I’ll warn you now, most of it will be junk and none of it well organized.”

  “I can deal with that. What do you say I stop by tomorrow morning to have a look?”

  “Tomorrow morning would be fine. I’ll instruct Nurse Hailey to admit you in case I am in bed.”

  “Thanks,” I said, not looking forward to another encounter with the bad-tempered nurse.

  I had barely said my goodbyes and hung up before the phone rang in my hand.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, sweetheart,” my dad replied. “I was wondering if you might want to come over and have a little talk.”

  “Talk? About what? Dad, are you alright? Is it Mom?” I ran through all the tortured possibilities in my mind. Alex. Where was Alex? Had he been in an accident? Was he still alive?

  “No, darling. This is about you,” he replied.

  “About me? What about me?”

  “Oh, just things.”

  “What things?”

  “Like, I heard that you got suspended.”

  He’d finally come to the point behind the phone call.

  “Oh, that. That was nothing,” I assured him.

  “I also heard that you asked the Chief to get you pregnant. Is that nothing too?” This time I sensed anger and impatience in his words. “Now, don’t you think we should get together and have a powwow? Or should I just go break his nose?”

  “Look, Dad, I can explain everything.”

  “That’s what I had in mind.”

  “It’s all Dale Gordon’s fault. In fact, I don’t even think I would have resigned in the first place if I hadn’t felt him beside me, egging me on.”

  “Wait a second. You resigned? I thought you were suspended.”

  “Oh, I was. You know, come to think of it, I’m not sure that I ever did officially quit my job. Anyway, that doesn’t matter now since I’m on a leave of absence.”

  “Honey, are you sure you’re alright?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good. Now, I hope your explanation for having Randy get you pregnant is a little more straightforward.”

  “It is. I’m not even sure I want to get pregnant yet.”

  “I didn’t know you were considering it.”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “So, you haven’t asked Randy yet, but you’re thinking about it?”

  “Dad! No! I’ll ask Alex to get me pregnant if I decide to. Sheesh, what kind of a girl do you think I am?”

  “Frankly, I was beginning to wonder.”

  Another fifteen minutes on the phone and I had smoothed Dad’s feathers. I decided that I needed to spend some time digging in the dirt. Jacky was already working in the pumpkin patch. Fortunately, he hadn’t yet heard about my plans to have the Chief get me pregnant.

  And so, I spent a pleasant afternoon with Jacky tending to my garden.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning I woke early and arranged for Alex to watch Blue while I drove back out to Thorny Springs. It was obvious that he was unhappy about me working on the case, but since he’d already given me permission to complete my basic research, there wasn’t a lot left to say. I hit the road with only a cup of coffee in my belly and after a pleasant drive spent listening to classics on KOMA, the local easy listening station, I found myself once more standing on the Cartwright’s stoop knocking on the door.

  This time, Nurse Hailey was slow to answer the door. I had to knock three times. Once she did open the door she looked at me like she’d just as soon tear my head off as be civil. I mentioned that I was here to see the records in the attic and she grudgingly turned and led me upstairs.

  She led me on a fine tour up the backstairs of the house. The final flight of stairs to the attic was steep, narrow, and dark. I stumbled up behind Nurse Hailey as she removed a ring of keys from her pocket and used one of them to unlock the door. This left me wondering what treasures were hidden up here that they required be stored under lock and key.

  The attic proved to be roomy, the roof high enough so that you didn’t have to stoop to get around. It was dusty and dark and there were cobwebs everywhere. The nurse flipped a switch and a single bare light bulb that hung from overhead jumped to life. This light cast an eerie iridescence over everything. I was left with no doubt that this was just the place to be conducting my ghostly research.

  “Don’t make a lot of noise. Miss Kate has had a bad morning.”

  “Okay.”

  Nurse Hailey left me. For a moment I was afraid she might have locked me in, but I heard no key in the door. Left to my own devices, I looked around trying to decide where to begin.

  Half an hour spent pawing through cobwebs and dust had netted me nothing of any particular interest. I was beginning to get frustrated. That’s when I noticed Thomas standing just inside the doorway to the attic, quietly observing me. How the heck did this guy manage to sneak up on me all the time? I wondered.

  “Good morning, Ms. Boston. It’s so good to see that you’re taking the case so seriously.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Cartwright. And how is your sister?”

  “It’s hard to say. Sometimes she seems to be getting better while other times she seems at the bitter end. In any case, I doubt she has much more suffering to endure.”

  There seemed nothing more to be said on that score.

  “So, how goes the search?”

  “I’m just getting started,” I admitted, eyeing a particularly hopeful looking steamer trunk.

  “I doubt you’ll find anything.”

  “Oh? Why do you say that?” I asked, removing a stack of worn suitcases from atop the trunk.

  “Maybe it’s because I don’t hold out much hope of anything anymore.”

  “That’s too bad,” I told him, knowing it would be awful to watch someone you love die. “But we should always hold on to as much hope as we can get our hands on. I’m actually very good at finding things.”

  Having cleared the trunk, I slipped its massive latch and pried open the rusty lid. Bingo, I thought as I surveyed the stacks of well organized papers, books, and mementos.

  “In fact, I think I’ve found something,” I told Mr. Cartwright.

  But when I turned he was gone, having left as silently and suddenly as he’d appeared. I considered looking around the place to be sure he wasn’t hiding before I got a hold of my wits.

  I turned my eyes back to the contents of the trunk in fascination. Bundles of correspondence lay at the bottom, each bundle nicely trussed using a silk ribbon. Surrounding the bundles were books, and to one side was a collection of child’s trinkets.

  I retrieved a bundle of letters, slid the first from the collection, and started to read. It was a business letter to the local coal company complaining about last week’s delivery. I found several such letters in the bundle before moving on.

  Eventually, I dragged an old settee over to an attic window so that I could get comfortable and better see what I was reading. It was beginning to rain outside and the wind was blowing the branches of a tree against the side of the house. The scratching sounded like the sinister requests of some demon demanding to be let in. I snuggled down and got comfortable with my stack of missives.

  I probably spent at least an hour sorting through the various bundles of letters before moving onto the books. That’s when I found the piece that really caught my interest. It was a diary. Although very old, the leather binding was still supple. I opened it and started to read.

  February 20, 1929,

  Today proves to be fair
. I think that my fancy leans less toward hunting with Father than it does toward spending a quiet day at home reading. I wonder whose will shall prevail in the matter.

  February 21, 1929,

  I had a terrible time yesterday hunting with Father…

  I flipped several pages forward and continued to read.

  March 17, 1929,

  Rain again today. When will it ever stop raining? Jane has met a new man. She insists on bringing him round this evening for the family to meet. I, for one, am skeptical.

  March 18, 1929,

  Last evening, it was my extreme misfortune to meet the most odious man ever to become my acquaintance. His name is Arthur Sherlock and he is no doubt a scoundrel of the worst sort. I noticed the various undesirable qualities of the man before we had even been properly introduced. The way that he dressed and carried himself was nothing if not arrogant. He treated me as if I was a small child and my sister as if she was already his possession.

  If the man should ever show up at our door again, I plan on letting him know what I think of him and any future plans he may have involving my beloved Jane.

  Realizing that the diary covered the time span of the disastrous wedding, I flipped forward to see if I could find anything regarding the nuptials. The diary ended half way through the bound journal. I flipped back a few pages and began to read the final series of entries.

  June 26, 1929,

  Alas, this is the journal of a wretched man, for surely I will find no peace in this world all the days of my life. I have just returned from my sister Jane’s room. She was unwilling to discuss the reversal of her decision to bind herself the most odious man who ever walked the face of God’s green earth. And so, I find I wronged her. For before I could stop the words from crossing my lips, I had disavowed her. How I could do such a thing, I’ll never now.

  Now I feel ill to the core and must sleep. Tomorrow though. Tomorrow I face the scoundrel himself.

  June 27, 1929,

  Can you believe it? The sheer effrontery of the man.