The Haunting of Bechdel Mansion: A Haunted House Mystery- Book 0 Read online

  “That’s not really appropriate church talk, if you don’t mind,” Lucille said in a polite but stern tone. She then took Mary by the wrist and began to lead her away from the group as the women waved.

  “Don’t mind Beatrice,” Lucille whispered. “What she lacks in simple tact she makes up for with some of the best peanut butter cookies this side of the state.”

  Mary turned back to glance at the women as she was guided through the crowd, faces growing blurry in their quick pace.

  “Here,” Lucille said. “I want to introduce you to some of the other ladies.” They reached a group sitting at a bench under another canopy, all older than the ones Mary had just been introduced to. They sipped from bottled water and nibbled at fruit plates of watermelon and strawberries resting on their knees.

  Their long, sleek dresses looked elegant but out of place to Mary. Their jewelry added to the impression of wealth and prestige: arms, necks, and fingers with heavy burdens of gold. Mary glanced down at her own arms realizing that she had forgotten to wear any jewelry at all. The small diamond on her wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight, the only thing she had to show for herself.

  A gray-haired woman, the only one who had not fashioned an orange tint over her perm, looked up at Mary as she approached. She and the others smiled as Lucille introduced her.

  “Mary, these lovely ladies run the local chapter of the Redwood Women’s Association.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Mary said, shaking their hands one after the other. The name sounded generic, but Mary could tell just by their posture and demeanor that they fancied themselves power players in Redwood.

  Sylvia, the woman introduced as the president of the local chapter, looked up at Mary and spoke with a low, scratchy voice.

  “You and your husband are quite the word around town” she said, pulling out a cigarette from a silver case.

  “I suppose so,” Mary said. “I ran into Pastor Phil just the other week, and he seemed to already know our names.”

  Sylvia shrugged and lit her cigarette. Lucille turned to the stage and signaled Mary to follow her as Pastor Phil took the stage.

  Mary waved to the table of aging socialites as they waved back. A sizeable crowd had already gathered around the stage, plastic plates in hand, digging into their grilled lunch.

  “Welcome all. Thank you for being here,” he said. “Now, why you’d want to hear me speak again after an hour-long sermon is beyond me, but here we go.”

  The crowd laughed as Mary looked around, searching for Curtis. She caught a glimpse of him in the back near the grill, having joined a huddle of men deep in conversation. It looked as though he was making friends just fine. Lucille seemed nice enough, albeit a tad pushy.

  “I’m glad to see so many smiling faces here for our Redwood Annual Fall Kickoff Barbecue!” Pastor Phil continued, swinging an arm through the air as the crowd clapped and hollered.

  “I just love him,” Lucille said loudly into Mary’s ear. “Isn’t he just the best?”

  Mary nodded with a smile.

  “Now, we’ve got plenty of food and drinks for everyone. Games for you and your kids, or tables where you can just sit and take in the beautiful scenery that surrounds us. And before we hear from a special guest speaker, I want to welcome the newest additions to our lovely town, Curtis and Mary Malone! Everyone welcome them with a hearty applause.” He looked downward, arm outstretched to Mary, zeroing in on her from the crowd. “Stand tall, so we can all see you,” he urged. Mary felt her face flush. She looked around nervously with a wave as the crowd politely applauded.

  “Let’s show them how we treat each other here in Redwood,” Phil continued, “with love, kindness, and respect for one another. The way neighbors are supposed to.”

  The applause continued as Mary looked around for a way out. Phil leaned into the microphone with bravado. “Now, I’d like to introduce a very special guest. Ladies and gentlemen, the mayor of our fair town, Mayor Taylor!”

  The crowd cheered as a tall silver-haired man in a suit climbed the steps and waved, smiling. The very sight of him was making Mary dizzier and the last thing she wanted was to have another episode in front of so many people.

  “I’m sorry. I need to find Curtis,” Mary said to Lucille as she worked her way out of the crowd. Lucille nodded, distracted by the mayor’s introductory words.

  “So nice to see all your lovely faces on this beautiful Sunday morning! It’s a true pleasure to be here,” he began.

  Mary snuck away as Lucille continued clapping, squeezing herself through the crowd and excusing herself along the way.

  She broke free and quickly moved to the grill, where Curtis handed her a plate with a hot dog on a bun, beans, and coleslaw.

  “Dig in,” he said, bobbing his head along with the music.

  She took the plate, thanking him. She felt flushed and a bit light-headed as the music continued on in the distance. Curtis must have noticed and asked if she was okay.

  “I’m sorry, I need to go home,” she said. She looked over his shoulder past him, and for a minute it seemed as though all heads were turned in their direction, staring at them. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them. Upon opening them, she saw no such thing. No one was watching them. All attention was on the stage.

  “You need to meet some of the guys first,” he said. “Bob’s around here somewhere. The realtor, remember?”

  “I remember,” she said. “Maybe some other time.”

  Curtis gently placed his hand on her shoulder as his smile faded. “What’s wrong, Mary?”

  “Nothing. I just… I’m not feeling well. I’m so sorry.”

  Concerned, Curtis crouched down and grabbed a cold water bottle from a cooler below, handing it to her. “Why don’t you take a seat, have some food, and relax a little.”

  She took a step forward, inches from his face. “Please. It’s the dizziness. It’s back.”

  Curtis paused, stunned. He then looked around with his hands out, in a gesture of helplessness. “Okay, okay. We’ll get you out of here.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, walking beside him as he gripped her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry about it. You don’t look well. Your face is losing color.”

  Curtis led the way at a quick pace, around the side of the church and to the parking lot as the music faded and the general cheer grew more distant. She felt instant relief upon entering the parking lot and couldn’t understand any of it, but something told her that the answers lay in the diary back home… somewhere.

  Warning

  Curtis was quiet but tender as they drove home, clearly perplexed. He rubbed her leg as Mary’s gaze remained fixed on the long stretch of encroaching forest on their way back to the mansion. Away from the heat and the crowd, she felt a little better as cool air blew on her face from the dashboard vent.

  “Feeling better?” Curtis asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Enough of that, Mary,” he said. “We don’t want to take any chances. Just make sure you drink plenty of water, and we’ll get you home.”

  She felt too tired to talk, surprised and disappointed with herself in the process. Regardless of Curtis’s assurances, she knew that their hasty departure could very well be considered a rude gesture. They turned onto the concrete path leading to the mansion and bypassed the rusty automatic gate that had yet to be repaired.

  They pulled into the empty courtyard, free of work crews. It seemed as though they were going to have a quiet day after all, which was good enough for her. There was much research to be done, and she wanted to prove to Curtis that something was indeed wrong with the house and the town he had whisked them away to.

  With one glance toward the front door, Mary’s heart seized. Something bloody looking, a curious marking eight feet tall was painted down its surface.

  “Stop the car!” she said.

  Curtis hit the brakes fifty feet from the door as she flew forward,
constrained by her seat belt.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Oh my God…” she said, cupping her mouth with both hands.

  Curtis followed her gaze, unsure of what to say. Painted down the middle of their double doors were two thick, red intersecting lines in the shape of an upside-down cross.

  A police cruiser with the Chief of Police and his deputy showed up about twenty minutes later. What looked like simple vandalism had a more ominous meaning to Mary. The driver, an older man, stepped out of the car and introduced himself as Chief Benjamin Riley. His partner, Deputy Alex Ramirez, extended his hand as well.

  Chief Riley was older than his young deputy by at least twenty years. He was tall and lanky with a gruff demeanor, and his silver hair and wrinkled, leathery face fulfilled a stereotypical notion of a small-town sheriff. He wore aviator sunglasses, a gray, short-sleeved uniform shirt, and dark slacks. At his side were a pistol holster and radio.

  Deputy Ramirez was shorter than the chief, with boyish good looks and a short crop of black hair. Mary remembered seeing both of them standing outside the police station the week before, and wondered if they alone made up the entire police force of Redwood.

  All business, Chief Riley held his clipboard as they stood at the end of the courtyard next to the steps leading to the vandalized door. Ramirez admitted that they both came not only to investigate but also to meet the new couple everyone was talking about.

  “I didn’t realize that we were such celebrities,” Mary said.

  “You certainly are in this town,” Ramirez said, flashing a smile.

  Angered, Curtis pointed to the red upside-down cross on their door. “I want to press charges against the punks. Not even here two weeks, and our home has already been vandalized.”

  “Anyone get inside?” the chief asked, scribbling onto his clipboard.

  “Not that I know of,” Curtis said. “I searched every room. No signs of any break-in.”

  “Whoever did this had to know that we would be gone,” Mary said.

  Deputy Ramirez glanced up at her with a raised brow. “What makes you say that?”

  Curtis suddenly cut in. “The point is, I want whoever did this charged with trespassing and vandalism!”

  Ramirez walked up the steps to take pictures of the door with his pocket-sized digital camera.

  “You might want to get that gate fixed outside first and foremost,” the chief said.

  “These weren’t kids,” Mary said.

  Their home had been marked with an inverted cross. There was nothing subtle about it. She wondered if it was yet another warning bestowed upon them by unseen forces.

  Curtis turned to her with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I don’t care. I want whoever did it to face charges.”

  “It’s a message,” she continued as Riley and Ramirez stood to the side, reluctant to offer their own take. She approached the door and ran her hand down the dry red paint on the hard wooden surface. “Either a warning, or something else.”

  Curtis walked up the steps and stopped near her, clearly not having it. “Mary, please. Someone is toying with us. Probably kids.”

  She glanced at him, unconvinced. “I wish that were the case. I really do.”

  Curtis went back to the two police officers with his hands out, and shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find the perpetrators, right Officers?”

  Deputy Ramirez nodded while scribbling into a pocket-sized notebook. “We can run a search on paint purchases at the hardware store.”

  “Good thinking, Deputy,” the chief added. They both seemed satisfied enough and turned to leave with an assurance that they’d try their best to find the vandals.

  Mary then spun around from the front door, calling after them urgently. “Chief Riley!”

  They both stopped, and Riley turned around. She hurried down the stairs, passing Curtis and approached the officers, hands folded together and a worried look across her face.

  “Yes, ma’am?” the chief asked, waiting.

  “How long have you lived here, if you don’t mind my asking?” she asked.

  Chief Riley looked up, thinking to himself. “Hm.” His head shifted back in her direction. “About fifteen years.”

  “How about you, Deputy?” she asked Ramirez.

  “My wife and I moved here about five years ago,” he answered.

  Mary turned, signaling toward the mansion. “I’m sure you’re both familiar with the history behind this place.”

  “Sure am,” the chief said, putting a piece of gum in his mouth. “But that was a long time ago.”

  “The Bechdel murders?” Ramirez asked.

  Chief Riley nodded.

  “The case was never solved to my knowledge,” Mary said. “This house is trying to tell us something. I can feel it.” She looked squarely at the chief, imploringly. “Is there anything we should know about this place? About this town?”

  Chief Riley cocked his head and scratched his face. “Well… All I can say, ma’am, is that there’s one cold case that’s just never seen the light of day. But from what I’ve seen we’re certain that nothing like that is going to happen in Redwood again.”

  “Pretty cryptic there, Chief,” Ramirez added.

  “I’m asking for your help,” Mary said, determined. “Is there something I should know?” She paused as his blank expression showed a clear unwillingness to elaborate. “This vandalism is just the latest in the strange occurrences we’ve experienced since moving in.”

  Deputy Riley flashed an understanding look. “I can tell you this, ma’am. You’re not the first family to raise concerns about this old place.”

  “Interesting…” Mary said

  “‘Bout ten years ago a family moved in here,” the chief said. “Weren’t here very long, from what I hear.”

  “See,” Mary said to Curtis. “I told you.”

  Curtis shrugged. “Yeah. Well. Maybe they couldn’t afford it.”

  “Wake up, Curtis,” Mary said.

  The chief and his deputy took a step back and motioned to the cruiser.

  “Wait. Please,” Mary said, reaching out to them. The chief stopped again with a near sigh. “Do you remember their names? The people who lived here?”

  The chief shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. Don’t believe that I do.”

  Mary turned back to Curtis. “The realtor. Mr. Deckers. Maybe he has the records. An old mortgage or deed or something.”

  “The past is the past, Mary,” Curtis said, walking away. “I have work to do.”

  Mary approached the two officers, confiding in them. “I’m not trying to pry, Chief. I just want answers. Are my husband and I in any danger?”

  The chief thought to himself. “No ma’am. I don’t believe so. Like I said before, that was a long time ago—”

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” she interjected, then paused for a moment before cautiously asking her next question. “Do either of you believe in the supernatural?”

  Chief Riley looked down with a sheepish grin as Deputy Ramirez nodded slightly. “My wife… She used to dabble in that stuff all the time,” the chief said. He suddenly switched to a more serious tone. “But you shouldn’t worry about it. There are no ghosts here. Just a nice, friendly town.” He smiled, exposing two rows of pearly-white teeth.

  “Have a good day, ma’am,” Ramirez said as they turned away and walked back to the cruiser. A police star was painted along the passenger side, with Redwood Police Department written in big letters. She thanked them for coming out and stood there as the chief started the car and drove off, leaving a faint trail of exhaust as she contemplated her next move.

  ***

  Mary woke up the next morning to find Curtis up and almost out the door in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. They hadn’t said much to each other the rest of the day prior, and now he was leaving without even telling her. Something was up.

  “Where are you going?” she said, rubbing her eyes.


  He stopped at the door and turned with a faint smile.

  “It’s Monday,” he said. “Got to go to work.”

  Mary rose from the bed, tossing the covers to the side. “What are you talking about?”

  Curtis walked back to the bed with his sarcastic smirk. “I may not have an office, or an assistant, but I’ve got to start somewhere.” He strolled toward the bed and leaned against one of the end posts. “Don’t you agree?”

  Mary looked around, assessing the vastness of the space, just within their master bedroom alone. “Why not just open an office in one of the rooms? We’ve got plenty of them.”

  “I need to be out there,” he said, pointing out the window. “Out in the public. I plan to look into office space today.”

  Downstairs, they both had separate studies—Curtis with his oak desk, legal books, and computer, and Mary with her drawing table, tablet, and artwork hanging on the walls. Her office was her studio workspace, whereas Curtis worked outside the home, and with one car between them, she was pretty much stuck there throughout the day.

  “The electrician should be here later today to look at that bad wiring in the kitchen,” Curtis continued.

  “Okay,” Mary said, getting out of bed with a stretch. “Good luck today.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. “I’m sorry again about yesterday.”

  “Stop apologizing. Please,” he said, hugging her back.

  “I’ll tell Pastor Phil what happened.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him soon,” Curtis said. He looked into her eyes and told her quietly, “I’ve been doing some thinking… Obviously I want all of this to work, but if you have real concerns about this house…” He then paused, shaking his head, and then said something so touching she wanted to cry. “If you’re uncomfortable here, we can always move somewhere else.”

  His willingness to compromise so completely came as a shock, and her mouth nearly dropped to the floor. “You’re serious?”