“Matt, I’m Matt. I know who you are ma’am, and I don’t know what happened. Greg sent Johnny in to assess the basement and write down what we will work on tomorrow. Next thing we all know, Johnny is falling from the roof.” Matt finished in such a low whisper she barely heard him.
Did he just say this Johnny, the youngest worker, the one that couldn’t be more that eighteen, just jumped off her roof?
“How did he even get up there?” Mariah questioned. “Did you all run a ladder up there? Is something wrong with the roof, too?” Mentally kicking herself for asking about the roof and not the person that lay dead right in front of her on the back lawn, Mariah turned away and looked up at the roof of her huge three-story home.
Just beginning to process what was happening, Mariah heard the ambulance racing up the drive. She headed back to the front of the house in order to lead the paramedics to the scene of the accident. As she came around the corner, she could see Olivia and Alice get out of the front, as Austin slipped out of the back with a gurney and his medical bag. Both looked at Mariah then to each other, Olivia immediately let out a sigh of relief.
“When we got the call with this address saying a person fell from the roof, we about had a heart attack. We were just here last night ya know? I had to drive; made Austin fly all over the back as I raced us here,” Alice said. Olivia just stood there looking relieved that it was not Mariah’s body lying on the ground. Then she went still as she realized that meant there was someone else hurt.
“It’s one of the foundation workers, This way. I think, I think he’s dead,” Mariah stuttered, tears forming in her eyes from the realization as she voiced it out loud for the first time. The shock was wearing away now and reality was smashing its way into her body like the Hulk. Her chest felt tight and she exploded, tears piling out of her eyes, snot running from her nose.
Olivia, Alice and Austin raced to the back of the house where they were confronted with the same scene Mariah had come upon only moments ago. Austin gently lifted Johnny from Greg’s arms and laid him on the grass, checking for a pulse. Of course, there was none. Greg just sat there shaking as shock took over for the tears. Alice knelt and wrapped a foil blanket around his shoulders, then assessed the others to see if anyone else would need attention for possible shock or worse. Mariah, not knowing what else to do, wrapped Greg in a bear hug trying to comfort him. Olivia stood next to them, her hand on Greg’s shoulder.
The medical examiner appeared sometime later. The rest of the evening went by in a daze. Police. Coroner. Crime scene cleaners. One by one the men were questioned by the police, and one by one they told their version of the story. Some agreed that Johnny must have committed suicide. Others said he must have fallen by accident. One man, just one, said Johnny was thrown off the roof. The police dubbed him the crazy one, as there was obviously no one else on the roof.
Greg told her he was giving his men the rest of the week off. Mariah agreed, the work could wait. As the men slowly filtered out, she began to come out of the daze she was floating in, just enough to realize she would be alone soon, alone with the house and the knowledge that a man died here only hours ago. Mariah could feel her body begin to shake as sobs overcame her again. She cried for Johnny. She cried for her house. She cried for her dad. And she cried for herself.
Olivia reappeared later. She finished her shift and had come back to check on Mariah. She said she didn’t think anyone should be alone in a house this big after such a horrible day. Mariah hugged her, not caring for a second about the blood that covered her clothes.
They hugged and Olivia didn’t let go until Mariah’s body had finished shaking and her sobs died down. Mariah didn’t realize just how much she needed a hug.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Olivia stayed and comforted Mariah the way a good friend should. They hadn’t known each other more than a day, but already it felt as though they would be the best of friends. They talked and talked about the most mundane things while the police finished their business around the property. When they were all finally gone, Mariah and Olivia headed inside. Mariah was anxious to try to get into that cabinet again, and she wanted to check out the work that had been started in the basement. The work was far from finished, but it was looking amazing. She was curious as well about how Johnny had gotten onto her roof.
The first thing she did was change clothes. She couldn’t stand being in the blood-soaked ones from the accident any longer. Blood and the smell of death were not cohesive to mental healing.
Changing into comfy sweats and a big T-shirt Mariah headed into the foyer. Olivia had asked to poke around a bit, so she let her go off on her own while she went to make tea. Tea is always nice after a horrible day; it soothes the soul, or so her mom had always told her. She put the kettle on the stove, grabbed the clothes she never wanted to see again, and headed out back to the trash bin. She chucked them in, closed the lid and didn’t look back.
The tea was boiling within minutes, and Olivia joined her in making a mug full of Chai spice. Olivia added some honey to her tea and Mariah added a little cream to hers. Together they shuffled over to the doorway that led to the basement. Mariah wasn’t afraid per-say; terror wasn’t a thing she usually opened herself up to, but in the back of her mind something felt wrong about the house now. She hoped that feeling would eventually dissipate, sooner rather than later.
The basement light switch was unfortunately at the bottom of the basement stairs. As with any old house, electricity was added later so switches and plugs were often in random places. Electricity, air conditioning, running water, toilets, and so forth would have been more recent renovations. That meant the house had been opened up to an extent at some point. She assumed that the person that worked on the house in the nineties had done most of the renovations. They left in such a hurry that she was certain the work was shotty at best.
Mariah had Olivia stay at the top of the stairs while she went down to get the light. The last thing she wanted was for Olivia to fall to her death on the rickety old staircase. Once the light was on, she waved Olivia down.
They looked around the area. Mariah was thoroughly impressed with what Greg’s crew had accomplished in the last two days. The house was hoisted up and one entire side was repaired, new brick and mortar setting neatly to harden. It looked amazing.
She meandered her way back to the farthest wall, where the animal feces had been. Greg’s men must have cleaned it up, all that remained was freshly raked dirt. Mariah looked around and saw that the entire basement had been raked smooth. Not a blemish in sight. Things were looking up, she thought as she felt around the walls.
She felt the bricks, the new versus the old, their textures noticeably different given the period of time between them. She felt the bottom of one of the crevices, it was open quite a bit, but she didn’t see the outside through it like in the other areas. She reached through, expecting to find insulation but instead her hand hit something firm with sharp edges. Pain seared through her injured hand as tears threatened to flow from her eyes. Her jaw tightened as she held them back.
A few deep breaths later, Mariah turned on her phone flashlight and was able to look at what she’d hit. From what she could tell it was the very bottom of an old, rickety staircase. It was inside the wall, bricked over completely, the movement from the jacking must have opened it up. Mariah knelt, pushing her phone light in further, peeking into the opening. She could see the jagged first step, but not much farther than that. Someone walled it up, and it was well done.
She leaned in just a little farther to try to get a better look. Something rubbed against her shoulder without warning, and Mariah jumped, smashing her head into the brick while a childish scream escaped from her throat. Rubbing her now sore head, she turned to see Olivia practically keeling over from laughter.
“I just scared the shit out of you doll,” she laughed. “Are you afraid of something?”
“No, I just, forgot you were here, to be honest; I’m used to being alone,�
� Mariah mumbled as she brought her hand down from her head to check for blood. There was none thankfully, but that was going to leave a mark.
“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a little scared. This house is haunted,” Olivia said and made a ghostly gesture with her hands. She then started laughing again. Mariah could tell she didn’t believe in haunted houses either.
Still, something felt off. Between the spider bite, and Johnny’s death she was beginning to think the house wasn’t haunted, it was cursed. Hell, maybe this was all a nightmare, and she was in a coma from the venom of the recluse. Is that even possible?
“I found a staircase inside the wall and its bricked in.” Contemplating it a little more she decided, “I’m going to tear this wall down and see what else is back there.” She nodded her head as if agreeing with her own decision, dusted her pants off, and spun around to leave. There was little left to see, all the walls were the same, brick and dirt.
They headed back to the stairs, with the third-floor cabinet next on Mariah’s to do list. From the corner of her eye Mariah saw Olivia bend down. Turning to see what Olivia had found, she hoped it wasn’t another spider or something worse, like a rat. Olivia was dusting off what looked like a mask. By a beam close to the wall near the hidden staircase, drawn by what looked like a ribbon sticking out of the ground she had found a porcelain mask. A very dirty porcelain mask, the kind you see in old movies, worn during fancy parties. The History junkie in Mariah leapt alive. These masks were around all the way back to the thirteenth century. Olivia sidestepped around Mariah, jumping upstairs two steps at a time taking the mask with her. Mariah followed, excited to examine this small piece of buried treasure.
“Thirteenth century. These were used to conceal a person’s identity. They’re called Venetian masks. These looks old, but newer old; I wonder when it was made.” Mariah was talking more to herself than anything. Olivia just listened, seemingly intrigued, yet distant at the same time.
They took the old mask into the kitchen. Mariah had some cleaning solutions that were meant for antiques. She had purchased them when she bought the house, knowing they would come in handy. She set the mask to soak in a shallow bowl of solution, hoping to clean enough dirt and grime off to be able to at least find out if the mask was dated or had a name on it. Mariah spun around and smiled at Olivia, who was sitting at the table sipping her tea.
“How did you know this was there?” Mariah asked. “It wasn’t there when I walked by that spot earlier. Well maybe it was, but I definitely didn’t see it.”
“I felt like I was being pulled to that spot, like I just knew something was going to be there.” Olivia shrugged as though it was no big deal.
“It’s so cool,” Mariah whispered. “Hey, I’m going to put my laundry in the dryer really quick, then we can move upstairs to check out that cabinet.” Mariah left into a small room next to the kitchen where she had put the washing machine and dryer. Olivia waved her on as though she lived there, and this was a normal evening between roommates.
“What the Hell Olivia!” Mariah stormed back into the kitchen seconds later and tossed the blood-soaked clothes she had thrown away onto the dining room table. “I threw them out because they reek of death,” she shouted even though Olivia was right in front of her. Olivia was the only one there, so it had to have been her. Mariah did not find it entertaining for someone she just became friends with to take the liberty of bringing back inside something that she had deliberately thrown away. She was livid, beyond livid, she was pissed off.
“I didn’t bring anything inside, I didn’t even know you threw anything away,” Olivia shouted back, her hands raised in defense.
They both stood and stared at the clothes. They were right there. Olivia had to be messing with her, and it was a bad joke to play after today’s events. Olivia probably sees death all the time in her career field, but Mariah’s only experience with death had been her father, and before that her grandparents, who thankfully died of old age. Suicide was a completely different ballgame and not one to be joked about.
“Not funny. If you’re going to screw around with me after the day I’ve had, you can go home,” Mariah snapped, pointing to the door. She didn’t need more drama today, and this was turning into more drama than she needed for the whole year. Mariah was and always had been a loner, and if this is the kind of crap “friends” did to each other, she didn’t need to have any friends.
“I’m not messing with you doll. I was with you the whole time. We were in the kitchen making tea then we went to basement. Maybe you set them in there to take out later and just forgot,” Olivia said, shrugged and placed her tea cup in the sink.
“Promise you aren’t messing around?” Mariah mumbled. “Seriously, promise?” She was beginning to doubt her own recollection of the evening’s events and was no longer sure she had actually taken the clothes to the trash.
“I promise doll. I didn’t touch your bloody clothes.” She giggled at her pun.
Mariah felt compelled to believe her. Maybe she had set them there and just thought she’d taken them out. Shivering, Mariah grabbed the clothes, took them outside, dumped them into the trashcan this time making sure it was locked and went back inside.
“There, now they are in the can, and I locked the damn thing,” Mariah stated plainly to Olivia who nodded. “You ready to head upstairs? I really want to have another look at that old cabinet, it’s locked and I can’t figure out how to open the dang thing.” Mariah gestured for Olivia to come with her, and together they headed out of the kitchen.
Walking up the seemingly endless flight of stairs, Mariah thought about how good having these stairs would end up being for fitness. If she ever gained any weight, she would be shocked, because the stairs were brutal. The staircase was massive, not excruciatingly steep thankfully, and only a few areas needed repair; but they were a workout. Mariah felt like houses of this size should have an elevator of some sort. There is a food tray pully in the back of the kitchen, but from her observations, it had been sealed up and doesn’t work. It might be worth fixing later down the road. The only issue is that she had yet to find where it leads. No other room in the house has an outlet for it.
Mariah opened the door to the room with the cabinet and saw it had been moved. It was away from the wall now. That would give her a clear sight to the back to be able to search for a button to push, a lever to pull, or something to open the cabinet doors. Olivia walked over to the shelf and began tracing the engravings, she looked mesmerized by the intricate details carved into the beautiful cherry wood. Mariah knelt to look underneath the cabinet; she was determined to see if there was a latch that she missed before. Just as Mariah was ready to give up, Olivia tugged at the doors, they swung open as though they were never locked. Mariah’s jaw practically hit the floor in surprise.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mid 1700s |Town of Oakwood
“Papa, je peux avoir la chambre la plus haute de la maison?” Olivette smiled sweetly at her father as the carriage rounded the corner and the grand house came into view.
Olivette had wanted to claim the largest room in the house for herself. She loved the lush trees, the big beautiful flowers in the yard, and the grass, all the grass. The journey from France had been long, and grueling. Olivette hoped that a brand-new beginning in the new world would give her father a chance to be home and enjoy spending countless hours with her.
Her mother had died several years earlier. Olivette hardly remembered her at all. She had caught a horrible chill one day after swimming in the river, and she never recovered. Her father was saddened so deeply, he spent all his time away from home, working. Olivette had wondered often if he couldn’t look at her, for she resembled her mother to an uncanny degree.
Now her father was to be the Mayor of Oakwood, and Olivette was going to get to grow up in the Americas. Her entire world was changing. Her nanny, Jeanette, came along too with her son Jacob. He was just a little older than Olivette.
Jeane
tte promised Olivette that her papa would be home much more often with his new posting, and that had made Olivette smile. She was a beautiful young girl, long flowing blonde hair that looked as though it lacked color almost completely. She donned bright blue eyes and a small button nose. Her face was covered in small freckles, which she hated with a passion. Her small body was gangly, and she was all skin and bones. But at six years old, she still had many more years of growing to do.
“Mon Armoire papa aller dans ma chambre et tous mes dollies peuvent dormir avec moi!” She stated bravely and with such vigor that her papa proudly patted her head.
She simply asked, well, stated, that she would be keeping all her dolls in her room with her.
“Oui ma chere, tes dollies peuvent dormir avec toi,” her papa agreed as the carriage came to a stop in the carriage house near the side entrance.
Assuring her that she could keep the dolls with her, and that she could pick any room she wanted, they exited the carriage.
The staff waited to greet the new master of the house and his beautiful daughter. It had been a few years since a child had visited Oakley house. The staff members were excited to be able to see the joy in a child’s eyes and hear the giggles as she ran through the halls. Oliver had stayed there on multiple occasions since having it built, and there had been countless important visitors. Of course, the staff had children that would tag along for their duties throughout the past days, but most of their children were long gone now.
The days moved along and Olivette began her schooling. Her papa worked from his office most days, and the house was always moving with staff cleaning, cooks making delicious meals that reminded Olivette of her home in France, and they even hung a portrait of her mother up in her room just above her bed so she could watch over her while she slept and played.
The Secrets of Oakley House Page 4
