Haunted House Murder

by Leslie Meier

  Lucy had a frightening thought. “You are taking these courses pass/fail, right? You don’t want to blow your GPA.”

  “It’s under control, Mom. I hadn’t signed up for pass/fail but Elizabeth told me that I should.”

  “So she is taking care of you,” said Lucy.

  “One thing, Mom. She did one good thing and walked out the door. I’m on my own here.”

  Lucy heard the brakes on the school bus and looked at the window, where she saw the big yellow bus at the end of her driveway. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “It will all work out. Meanwhile, I’ve got a bus to meet. They won’t let Patrick off if there’s no adult at the stop.”

  “You’re as bad as Elizabeth, Mom. I know I don’t rate . . .”

  Lucy didn’t have time for this. Nancy was already tapping the horn. “Sorry, gotta go, sweetie,” she said, ending the call and running down the driveway to meet Patrick.

  * * *

  Patrick was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his after-school snack when Sara came home, full of news. “It looks like I got the research job,” she announced, as she took off her jacket and hung it up. “It’s pretty exciting, I’m going to be analyzing some deep-sea rocks from those underwater vents. It’s hands-on, which is pretty exciting. I won’t just be taking notes.”

  “Congratulations,” crowed Lucy. “That’s wonderful. Good work.”

  “You should tell my dad,” said Patrick, reaching once again into the cookie jar. “He’ll be interested.”

  “Good idea, Patrick,” said Sara, which Lucy thought might be the first nice thing she’d said to Patrick since he’d arrived at the house.

  Lucy joined Patrick at the table and took a bite of a cookie. “Zoe called, from Paris.”

  “So what’s up with her?” asked Sara, an edge in her voice.

  “She’s miserable,” said Lucy. “She says everybody there speaks French. . . .”

  “Uh, yeah,” offered Sara, rolling her eyes.

  “And Elizabeth is never home because she’s always out with a new boyfriend.”

  “That’s Elizabeth for you.”

  “And her coursework is more demanding than she expected.”

  “Poor baby,” cooed Sara, bouncing up the stairs with a smile on her face.

  Chapter Eight

  Dinner was remarkably pleasant, as Sara was much too pleased with herself to bother picking on Patrick. Halloween was fast approaching and Patrick was looking forward excitedly to the big day, reporting on the various costumes his classmates were planning to wear. He was convinced that his was the coolest, by far.

  “All the girls are going to be princesses,” he said, sounding disgusted. “Henry’s going as a vampire, that’s pretty neat, and Jack is going as Spiderman because his brother was Spiderman last year and his mom didn’t want to buy a new costume.”

  “Isn’t Spiderman cool?” asked Sara.

  “It’s okay, but it’s not scary,” explained Patrick.

  “So you think the best costumes are scary?” asked Bill.

  “Absolutely,” said Patrick.

  “But what if people are too scared to give candy?” mused Lucy. “What if they scream and slam the door shut?”

  “Not gonna happen,” insisted Patrick, with the certainty of a trick-or-treat veteran.

  Lucy was replaying the dinner conversation in her head while she loaded the dishwasher, smiling at the pleasant memory, when her phone rang. Glancing at the screen she saw that her best friend, Sue Finch, was calling.

  “Hi, Sue,” she sang. “What’s up?”

  “I’m calling to ask a favor. . . .”

  “Oh, no,” moaned Lucy, dramatically. “I’m flat-out, taking care of Patrick. Honestly, I don’t know how we did it with our kids. There’s soccer practice and homework and making lunches and tooth brushing and I don’t know what all.”

  “Well, we were younger, for one thing,” said Sue.

  “Don’t remind me,” moaned Lucy. “This kid is wearing me out. I’m exhausted most of the time.”

  “Now that you mention it, I think we were exhausted back then. I know I felt about twenty years younger when Sidra went off to college. I remember feeling somewhat ashamed that I wasn’t sadder to see my little chick fly out of the nest.”

  “I’m looking forward to that day,” admitted Lucy, who still had Sara home full-time, Zoe part-time, and Patrick, too. “So what is this favor you’re asking me to do?”

  “It’s for the Hat and Mitten Fund Halloween party for the kids on Friday.” Lucy and several other friends had started the fund years ago to supply warm winter clothes for the town’s less fortunate kids. It had grown over the years and now also provided back-to-school supplies and summer camp scholarships.

  “I’ll be there, no problem,” said Lucy, who was planning to bring Patrick to the party, which was an annual affair.

  “Great. So can you help put up the decorations tomorrow afternoon? We really need help since Chris broke her arm. . . .”

  Lucy knew that Chris, Sue’s partner in the Little Prodigies Child Care Center, had pretty much put up last year’s spectacular decorations single-handedly. Sue now focused on the center’s business end and no longer taught there, but filled in occasionally when needed. “She did? How’d that happen?”

  “She fell, hanging up new curtains in the twins’ room.”

  “That’s why I never change the curtains,” said Lucy, noticing that the gingham-checked cafe curtains in the kitchen were decidedly dingy. “Or wash them, for that matter.”

  “No washing is involved in the party decorations, which Chris has organized for us,” said Sue. “She’s written out directions so all we have to do is put them up.”

  Lucy bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. She wanted to help, but Patrick had soccer practice and she knew she couldn’t be in two places at once. “I wish I could but Patrick’s got soccer. . . .”

  “So what’s the problem? The practice is at the school, right? You can keep an eye on him from the gym.”

  “Not exactly,” protested Lucy. “The gym doesn’t have windows. I wouldn’t be able to see outside.”

  “Do you have to watch him every minute?”

  “Things have changed a lot since our kids were kids. Now they can’t be alone for a minute. I have to meet the school bus or they won’t let him off. And all the moms go to the practices, and if they can’t go because they have jobs or something, Grandma or Grandpa goes. It seems that you can’t let them wander off in the woods or go for a bike ride like our kids used to do.” Lucy sighed. “It’s really exhausting.”

  “I bet,” said Sue. “I’ve heard of helicopter parenting, but I thought it was a big-city sort of thing.”

  “Nope. It’s here. And I gotta say, my arms are getting pretty tired of all this flapping to stay aloft.”

  Sue laughed. “Maybe Bill, or Sara, could fill in for you at the game? What about Jolene?”

  “Bill and Sara are too busy, and Jolene’s visiting her sister in Florida.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to do, Lucy. You’re the last one on my list and we really need at least four people.”

  “What if you reschedule and we do it this evening?” suggested Lucy.

  “No way. There are all these new rules since the school shootings began, and once they lock up, the school stays locked until morning.”

  “It’s a brave new world. . . .”

  “You said it. Well, I guess we’ll just have to simplify the plan. No streamers.”

  Lucy felt conflicted. She wanted the party to be every bit as wonderful as it always was; she was tired of all the shoulds she’d encountered since Patrick’s arrival, and her natural rebellious streak took over. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Patrick will be fine. If he needs me I’ll make sure he’ll know where to find me. The field is just outside the gym and there will be plenty of parents at the practice.”

  * * *

  On Thursday afternoon Lucy arrived at the soccer field a few mi
nutes before dismissal. Spotting Karen and Lori chatting with coach Janet Nowicki, Lucy approached them, intending to let them know she would be inside the school during the practice and asking them to keep an eye on Patrick. As soon as she joined the group, however, she realized they were discussing a team member they considered to be a problem.

  “He’s too rough,” complained Lori. “He ran right over Caitlin the other day and knocked her to the ground.”

  “It wouldn’t be so bad if he was running over the other team, but most of the time it’s members of his own team,” said Karen. “Henry’s got a big bruise on his elbow, thanks to Jared.”

  “I know, I know,” agreed Janet. “He’s just big and clumsy; he’s not a bad kid.”

  “Right, right, there are no bad kids,” said Lori. “They’re misunderstood, or there’s trouble at home. There’s always excuses. But if you ask me, he really shouldn’t be on the team if he can’t be a team player.”

  “It’s unacceptable behavior; he’s always hogging the ball,” said Karen.

  “What do you think, Lucy?” asked Janet, turning to her.

  Lucy didn’t know how to answer. Sure, she’d noticed Jared’s rough play, but she’d figured it was the way soccer was played. The whole point of the game was to score, and Jared was playing hard to do that. She’d simply thought he was more committed to the game than some of the others, who didn’t seem to quite understand what soccer was all about. “It’s supposed to be fun, right? Maybe you could remind the whole team about good sportsmanship,” she suggested.

  Janet nodded, looking relieved, but Lori and Karen weren’t pleased.

  “At the very least you ought to have a one-on-one talk with Jared,” insisted Lori.

  “I’ll try the team pep talk first,” said Janet. “I understand your concern, but I have to think about all the kids and what’s best for them. But if the problem continues, I will talk to Jared.” Noticing that the kids were streaming out of the school, she squared her shoulders and blew her whistle. “And I really do appreciate your concern,” she said, before running off to round up the team.

  “Typical,” snorted Karen, watching her go. “I bet she thinks we’re just overprotective.”

  “I know,” agreed Lori. “Coaches and administrators always stick up for the troublemakers.”

  Lucy thought they had a point, but she also knew from experience that the day might come when their own perfect angels got in trouble and they would appreciate a tolerant and understanding approach. It had sure happened to her, when she learned the hard way that her own kids were not quite as well-behaved as she had thought.

  The kids were lining up for some drills when she remembered she was supposed to be inside the gym, helping with the party decorations. “Oh, gosh, I almost forgot. I promised I’d help with the Hat and Mitten Fund party preparations. Would you mind keeping an eye on Patrick for me? I’ll be right inside. . . .”

  Lori and Karen exchanged a look, seeming to imply that Lucy was shirking her responsibility to the team. “The party is for everyone; all the kids are welcome,” she added, hopefully.

  “Oh, no problem,” said Lori.

  “You can count on us,” said Karen.

  Somewhat relieved, Lucy hurried into the gym where she found Sue, along with her friends Rachel and Pam, busy sorting through a couple of big boxes of Halloween decorations. Lucy was especially happy to see her old friends since she hadn’t been able to make their weekly Thursday morning breakfasts at Jake’s Donut Shack since Patrick’s arrival. Seeing her, the others greeted her with smiles and hugs.

  “Long time, no see,” said Pam, who was married to Lucy’s boss, Ted Stillings. She still wore her hair in the ponytail she’d had as a college cheerleader, and had also retained that gung-ho spirit.

  “How’s it going with Patrick?” asked Rachel, who was married to Bob Goodman, who had a busy legal practice in town. “Is he adjusting to all the changes?” Rachel had majored in psychology in college and had never gotten over it.

  “He’s actually doing pretty well,” said Lucy. “He loves soccer; it’s been a godsend. He’s out there now, practicing.”

  “Physical activity; that’s the key to keeping kids happy,” said Sue. “Those little bodies have got to move.” As always, Sue was dressed to the nines, wearing slim black slacks and a nubby gray tunic. Her husband, Sid, had a custom closet business which he claimed he’d had to start in self-defense, because of his wife’s love of fashion.

  “Okay, ladies,” began Sue, “you know the drill. Crepe paper streamers from the lights, pinups on the walls, black cloths for the treat tables.”

  “I’ve got the fortune-telling tent in the car,” said Rachel, who always played Madame Fortuna for the party. “I’ll need a hand getting it out.”

  “No problem,” said Pam. “I’ll help you set it up. And we need a table near the electric outlet for the DJ. And don’t forget the whirly light machines.”

  “Right,” said Sue. “Let’s get the tables up first and get the heavy lifting out of the way. You guys can do that while I check with the office about getting some ladders. I also want to make sure the janitor will be on hand for the party. We’ll have to pay overtime for him, you know.”

  “Typical,” observed Pam, as Sue hurried off to the school office. “Leaving us with the heavy lifting.”

  “She has a bad back,” said Rachel, who was terribly kindhearted. “And she’s put in a lot of work organizing things.”

  “And I’m going to have a bad back, when we’re done,” said Lucy, getting a laugh.

  The three had just finished setting up the tables and were taking a brief rest to catch their breath, when Sue returned. “You know,” she said, “I did try to save us all this work. I had a sudden inspiration and called those new people, the Moons, and asked ever so politely if we could use their house for the party. It’s an old wreck anyway and I figured they’d be renovating, so why not have the party in a real haunted house? But I didn’t get anywhere. . . .”

  “Not surprising,” observed Pam, wryly, “if you called their house an old wreck.”

  “I said it tactfully,” insisted Sue. “I thought it would be fun for them. They’re young and new in town; it would be a great way to meet some people their own age. They don’t have kids, but they’re probably planning to.... I was really surprised at their negative reaction. Well, his reaction. I didn’t get to talk to her.”

  “She doesn’t talk to anybody,” said Lucy. “He doesn’t let her.”

  “That sounds like classic controlling behavior by an abuser,” said Rachel. “They isolate their victims, don’t allow them to have friends, and block contact from family members.”

  “I know,” said Lucy. “I interviewed Officer Sally for a story and she gave me some ideas, but when I tried to reach out to Heather—that’s her name—Ty answered the door and told me to get lost. He was very insulting, actually kind of threatening. He’s not a nice guy; he gave me the creeps. And I can tell you that a lot of the moms are really uneasy about him living so close to the school. They’ve warned the kids not to go near the place.”

  “Oh, my goodness, Lucy. That was very brave of you to try to help Heather. I think those moms are right about him,” confessed Pam. “I was walking my neighbor’s dog, you know the Franklins; they’re away in Hawaii for a second honeymoon. Anyway, Boomer’s one of those active dogs, an Australian sheepdog or something, so he needs a nice, long walk, and I was passing by the Moons’ house when I heard some awful, blood-curdling screams. The dog bolted; it was all I could do to hang on to him.” She paused, shuddering at the memory. “It was absolutely terrifying.”

  “What’s going on in there?” wondered Sue.

  “Plenty,” said Lucy, going on to tell about the flashing lights she’d seen, and Franny’s reports of electric lights that dimmed and brightened. And then there were the weird noises that accompanied the light show, the noises that Barney had suggested were simply jazz music.

  “That doe
sn’t sound like jazz to me,” said Pam, who had done some modern dance in college, along with cheerleading.

  “I wonder if he’s gaslighting the poor woman, trying to drive her insane,” suggested Rachel.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised at all,” said Lucy, remembering the insults Ty had hurled at her. “She’s in bad shape; that I can tell you. She looks malnourished, she’s positively wraithlike. I wish there was some way to help her.”

  “Well, although all this is fascinating, it’s not getting the gym ready for the party,” said Sue. “First things first. Let’s get through Halloween, and afterward we can have a brainstorming session and come up with some ways to help poor Heather Moon. In the meantime, we have work to do.”

  So they all got busy with their various tasks and when they’d finished, they decided it was all worth it, back aches and all. The gym had been completely transformed with spidery lace curtains hanging across the entrance door, orange and black crepe paper streamers hanging overhead, and pinups of witches and pumpkins and black cats on the walls, highlighted by Rachel’s swirly lights. Madame Fortuna’s tent was ready and waiting in one corner, and the DJ’s table was in the other, near an electric outlet. All that was missing were the kids.

  “Good work, ladies,” said Sue, flicking all the switches on the light panel and ushering them out, closing the doors behind them. “See you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter Nine

  Leaving the gym, Lucy’s mind wasn’t on the coming party but instead was wondering why some men seemed driven to mistreat the women they professed to love. One man in particular, she thought, turning her head and glancing across the street at the looming shape of the Moons’ house. It was the familiar Halloween motif of a haunted house standing right there on School Street, and she had a set of seasonal dish towels decorated with a similar design, with the playful addition of a ghost floating out of the chimney. A puff of smoke from the Moon chimney startled her, giving her a momentary fright as she said her somewhat distracted good-byes to her friends.