“You can’t do this,” the woman whispered hoarsely. “You need to stop thinking about him like that. It’s wrong.”
She knew the woman was talking about Grant. It made her mind wander to her bed, imagining him there with her. How could she stop thinking about him when he was always right there?
She felt a pressure on her shoulders, like someone grabbing her tightly. Isabella came back to the present as the woman screamed at her angrily before disappearing. She stood there and looked outside. Whatever it was, she didn’t care. She just wanted Grant.
7:15 AM, April 13, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
James stood in his room and thought about the conversation he had with Robert the previous day. They agreed that something strange was happening in the house, but it wasn’t violent. Yet. He agreed that their mother didn’t need to know until they have more proof that it wasn’t just their imagination. But that wasn’t the only thing Robert had told him.
His brother made him promise not to let on about their father’s affairs, which he believed would soon include Isabella. James didn’t know how Robert knew that, but he had personally caught his father in the act before they moved. He had been walking home from a day of playing with his friends when he saw his father come out of a woman’s house. He had seen them kiss and later, asked his father about it. All he was told was that it wasn’t his business and that he should keep his mouth shut unless he wanted to be responsible for hurting his mother.
It didn’t seem right to keep it from her, but he didn’t want to upset her either. So he kept it to himself until Robert told him about the other women. He listened to Robert’s idea of how he could keep Isabella away from their father, but it seemed like a bad decision.
Truthfully, he didn’t think it would work. And he was more worried about what both of his sisters had seen. Mostly because he was worried that he might see it too. James couldn’t imagine what it would be like to come face-to-face with a woman covered in blood. He didn’t want to be the next person to meet her.
2:21 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
Isabella and Grant were the only two people in the house. Abigail had taken the children to a party a few houses away, and they would be gone for at least another hour. She figured that this would be the best time to see if there was anything more behind the lingering gazes from Grant.
2:26 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
“Come in,” Grant said. He had been in his room to look for a note he left in one of his coat pockets. “Do you need something, Isabella?”
“I just wanted to check on you,” there was something in her voice that he thought could almost be sensual. “With Mrs. Thomas out of the house, I thought I could help you if you needed it.”
“That’s not necessary,” he replied without looking at her. Isabella may be beautiful, but he knew better than to sleep with a woman his own son had been looking at. He had no intentions of keeping Robert from what he wanted.
“Are you sure?” he heard her right behind him.
“Isabella, this isn’t the time,” he said. “I have far too many things going on to be distracted by this right now. We’re officially opening in less than a week and I still need to sign contracts and make preparations.”
“I could help,” she replied. “Anything you need.”
“There’s nothing I need you to do,” Grant said firmly. “Now, please leave.”
2:30 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
Isabella huffed. He was being more difficult that she thought. Perhaps he didn’t know that she was aware of his affairs.
She knew that he was attracted to her. More than the lingering glances, she knew because of the photo she had left for him. He had carelessly left it on his desk one day and she had seen it, had known that he kept and used it. It had made her happy.
“I can sort out your tasks for you,” she suggested. “Just like Mrs. Thomas does.”
Grant kept his back to her and began talking about the ways in which she wouldn’t understand his work. She wasn’t paying attention. Isabella unbuttoned the front of her dress and allowed the top to fall beneath her shoulders. As she began to lower the dress more, she felt something strange next to her.
Something had started to press against her throat. She turned her head slightly to see a woman standing next to her, her face crumpled in anger. Isabella recognized the dry, iron-like smell of the woman’s breath. She could feel the woman’s hands tighten around her neck. It was getting harder to breath. She let out what she hoped was a squeak.
“I warned you,” the woman growled in her ear. “I told you that you had to stop. Now look what you’re making me do.”
Isabella struggled and tried to gasp for air. Her head was starting to spin and she could feel her lungs burning without air.
2:32 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
Grant heard a noise that sounded like choking. He turned around with a frown settling in his eyebrows to look at Isabella. Her persistence would have been enough to wear him down if it were not for Robert.
His frown deepened as he saw the young woman making strange faces at him. She had removed half of her dress and was standing before him in her underwear. Her mouth was opening and shutting like a fish, but there was nothing that she could have choked on. There had been no food or water in the room.
More annoyed that anything else, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back on his bed.
2:33 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
The moment Grant’s hands touched her shoulder, the woman next to her vanished. Isabella fell back on his bed and began sucking in mouthfuls of air. She had been close to blacking out when he finally touched her.
As he came toward her, she couldn’t help wondering if this was what every other woman had to do to gain his attention.
2:34 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
“Get out,” Grant commanded. “What’s wrong with you?”
Confusion glazed Isabella’s face. It made him even more frustrated. Here was a woman who had removed her clothing after he told her to leave and had been choking in his room when they were the only two in the house. If she were to die, it could ruin his name and his business.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he shouted. “Get out! You’re insane!”
“A woman was choking me,” Isabella’s voice was weak. “She was trying to kill me.”
“There is no woman,” Grant said firmly. “You’re crazy. You need to leave right now before I call the police and you get a taste of what happens to crazy people. Pack your things and don’t come back.”
“But I –“
“Leave!” he roared at her. “Leave, you stupid woman!”
She scrambled off his bed and out of the room. Grant sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples. Had he known that she was crazy, he never would have given her the slightest notice before. But now, he had more problems. Firing her meant that someone would have to take over the house chores.
Grant muttered to himself as he remembered her mention of a woman. That made her the second one to mention a woman in the house when there had been no one. He placed his hands on his hips and let out a growl of frustration at the obvious lie she had reused from Jennie’s nightmare. A woman’s lies weren’t worth his time.
He cursed loudly and thanked the universe that his sons weren’t stupid enough to make up wild stories.
4:02 PM, April 18, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
Abigail sat in her office with a slight frown on her face. Within minutes of coming home, Grant had told her that he fired Isabella for being inappropriate with him. It had never occurred to her that Isabella was trying to attract Grant’s attention, but she also didn’t think that the young woman would have been bold enough to make a move.
Rather than spreading the word that
they were looking for a new housekeeper, Grant had insisted that the children take over the house’s chores. Abigail thought about secretly placing an advertisement for an older housekeeper, preferably one with children, but she decided to sleep on it before doing anything.
She wondered how the children would be able to balance school, housework, and their newly forming social lives. She took a look at her schedule over the next few days and realized that she could spend half her day doing housework, and the other half working for Grant’s company. As she started to write down a new schedule, Abigail wondered if she was spending too much time working and not enough with her kids.
Another thought suddenly struck her. Had her new job affected her relationship with her husband? Had Isabella somehow thought that because she spent the better part of her day at work, that meant that Grant needed company?
Abigail pressed her lips together and told herself that Grant wasn’t the type of husband who only cared about the physical relationship. She had given him five wonderful children, all of whom had bright futures. His company was growing bigger, and with the war on the horizon, he could expand his business even more by sending supplies to the troops on the battlefield.
Before setting down her pencil, Abigail wrote a reminder to spend more time with her children and plan a weekend that they could spend together as a family.
7:48 AM, April 21, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
It had been a few days since Isabella had been fired. Layla tied back her hair with a bandana before getting ready to cook breakfast for her family. When their father announced that they would be taking over the chores, none of them had been happy. But they knew better than to argue with him, so she and Robert divided up the work as best they could. She volunteered to cook all the meals if he could split up the cleaning tasks among the three younger ones.
She was still wary of the kitchen, even though she hadn’t seen the woman since that first night. At first, she hadn’t been happy when Robert and James told her that they lied to their parents, but after thinking about it, she agreed with them that it was for the best. They still hadn’t told Jennie that the woman had reappeared, nor did she think they would. And Kyle had barely talked about it since he heard what first happened with Jennie. Layla suspected that he was too scared to talk about the woman.
Eggs fried in the pan as Layla looked in the refrigerator. They had enough food for breakfast and lunch, but she needed to visit the local market for some fresh vegetables and other groceries. It would be a bit of a walk, but she could talk Robert into going with her.
“I’ll help with the juice,” James said as he walked into the kitchen. “It smells great.”
“You can take the pancakes out too,” she replied, handing him a plate. “Just a few more minutes and breakfast will be ready.”
“Are you okay?” James asked. “You know, being in the kitchen and all.”
“I avoid glasses of water,” she offered him a feeble smile. “I just feel like something is still in the house. Like something is going to come for one of us.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promised.
Layla didn’t really know if she believed him, but it was a nice reassurance.
3:20 PM, April 21, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
Robert and Layla finished their shopping at the local market. He was thankful that Layla seemed perfectly calm and confident that they would be able to find everything on the list in her hand. She knew exactly where to go and what to ask for. As they had walked from stall to stall, he realized that he would miss her composed presence when he left, either for college or the war.
A vendor caught his eye as he saw what he supposed was a wind chime of sorts. Pieces of different colored glass hung from strings and moved slowly in the breeze. Next to him, three teenagers had laid out a blanket on the ground. Laid out across the blanket were an assortment of jewelry pieces, each hand-made by the only girl in the trio. One of the boys looked up from the blanket and waved at them.
“Let’s go say hi,” Robert said. “It’ll be quick.”
He saw the boy’s face light up when Layla came with him. When they had met at the party a few days ago, he had already noticed how the boy’s eyes followed his sister. Robert hadn’t been surprised, but all of his protective instincts kicked in immediately.
“How’ve sales been today?” he asked the other boy, Colin.
“Not bad,” Colin said. He nudged the other boy with this knee, “Ben managed to charm a visiting family into buying some stuff.”
“Oh hey, my mom said your family might be looking for a housekeeper,” Ben said. “Your mom mentioned it yesterday.”
“We’re managing without one for now,” Layla said. “It hasn’t been that bad.”
“I still can’t believe you guys live there,” Colin said. “Mrs. Sanderson must have been so happy that someone finally bought it.”
“Why would she be so happy?” Robert asked.
“Because two people died there,” Ben said. “Didn’t you guys know? Rumor has it that Mrs. Sanderson killed her husband and then ran off with his best friend.”
“He had the affair,” said the girl, Callie. She twirled the ring around her thumb. “Mr. Sanderson was having an affair and everyone knew it.”
“But she ran off with his best friend,” Ben said. “You’re telling me that nothing happened between them before Mr. Sanderson died?”
“Wait, you said two people died in there,” Robert cut in. They had gotten his attention when Callie mentioned the affair.
“The mistress died there too,” Colin said. “Fell over the top of the stairs and cracked her head open on the floor. The police said there was a lot of blood and no doubt that she died immediately.”
“Wow,” Robert mused to himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw Layla’s expression change. “We should probably get going. Layla needs help preparing dinner and there’s seven of us.”
“Sorry if we weirded you out,” Callie genuinely looked apologetic. “It’s just that things like this rarely happen around here. Most men get away with their affairs and don’t end up dead.”
“It’s alright,” Robert said. Inside, he knew that this was likely the explanation he’d been looking for.
6:49 AM, April 22, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
“Dad,” Robert said from the bottom of the stairs. He had set his alarm to catch his father before he left for work. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” Grant said. He stood before the front door of the house.
“It’s about Isabella,” Robert said. “About why she left.”
“I already told your mother that she was being inappropriate,” Grant sighed.
“Not that,” Robert shook his head. “I know that Isabella had been looking at you since she started working for us. Did anything ever happen?”
“Are you suggesting that I had an affair with Isabella?” Grant frowned at his son. “Son, I don’t know if you realize the severity of that implication.”
“I heard some stuff about the house that made me wonder,” Robert replied. “Did you ever think about having an affair with her?”
“Does it make any difference if I was?” Grant asked. “The choices I make are none of your business.”
“Dad, this isn’t a joke,” Robert said. “I think that this woman who keeps appearing is here because she’s angry about an affair.”
“You have no proof that I’ve done anything,” his father replied. “I’d suggest that you think carefully about what you’re saying.
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Robert pressed his mouth into a firm line.
“Until you move out, you will have some respect for me,” Grant said in a low voice. “What I do is none of your business. Let the adults take care of the important things, and don’t think for a second that I would ever sleep with the housekeeper.”
Robert watched his father slam the door shut. A satisfied smile settl
ed on his face as the pieces started coming together.
1:13 PM, April 25, 1939
New Orleans, Louisiana
Abigail paced back and forth in her office. Over the past few days, she had been feeling like something was following her. She hadn’t been able to sleep very well, nor had she been able to feel at peace. Every time she moved, it felt like another presence was moving with her. And it didn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried to push it out of her mind.
Yesterday, on a whim, she tried praying. She had never prayed before and didn’t believe in a god or religion, but she heard stories of prayer working when someone was being haunted by a ghost.
But she didn’t really believe that she was being haunted. And ghosts didn’t exist. This wasn’t about a dead person who wanted to hurt her or get rid of her. Something else was going on and she couldn’t help feeling unsettled.
She tried to sit back down and start the final stage of planning for the large event happening at Grant’s company on Monday. It didn’t work. Abigail knew that she needed to do something about how she was feeling.
Abigail walked into Grant’s office without knocking. She knew that he didn’t have a very busy afternoon scheduled.
“There’s something wrong with this house,” she said. “I think something’s here. Something that’s upset.”
“Calm down,” Grant sat up in his chair. “What do you mean? What’s in this house?”
“I keep feeling like something is following me,” she said. “I don’t know why and I don’t know what’s following me, but it feels wrong. I want to call a priest.”
Haunted House Tales Page 40
