by Fiona Grace
“Listen, I’ve got to do something before we film tonight,” Mia said.
“Can I help?” Johnny said.
“Not with this,” Mia said. “This is something I have to do myself.”
Johnny nodded and they all parted ways. Tandy jumped up, ready to accompany his mistress to the ends of the earth.
“Come on, boy,” Mia said as they headed back to the apartment to pick up her car. She’d already made her decision. There was no way she was going to be a victim of fear. And she couldn’t risk having a meltdown in front of Johnny and the crew. In order to face her terror, she had to go to Elmswood House and walk through the place on her own. That way she could confront her phobias before she had to be on camera. It was just an old house, after all, she thought. But to get inside, she needed to find one person—the real estate agent, Cindy Moore. And she needed to find her ASAP.
***
Mia and Tandy pulled up in front of Seaside Estates, a tidy and busy real estate office close to the beach in a bright and sunny section of Swampscott.
The moment they were out of the car, Tandy smelled the cool sea air and looked toward the ocean, his whole body lengthening as he took in the intoxicating scent of seaweed, fish, and brine.
Through the plate glass window, Mia could see a reception desk and some offices. The bell jangled as she opened the door.
The receptionist looked up and smiled. She was wearing a sunny yellow blouse with black polka-dots and a white-fitted jacket.
“Oh, cute doggie,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Cindy Moore?”
“And you are?”
“Mia Bold, from Bell, Book, and Candle,” Mia said.
The woman pressed a button on the office phone.
“Yes?” said a man’s voice through the intercom.
“I have a Mia Bold here to see Cindy Moore. She’s from that show.”
“I’ll be right out,” said the man.
A moment later the door opened and a tall man dressed in light khakis and a blue shirt with a red tie walked into the room. He held a hand out and they shook. Everything about him was trim and tidy. He had manicured fingernails and was wearing an expensive gold watch on his tanned wrist. His clothing was crisp, and he was sporting a broad salesman’s smile with teeth that looked capped.
“So, you’re from that spooky show, huh?” the man said.
“I guess I am,” Mia said. “I’ve been trying to reach Cindy, but I keep getting her voicemail.”
“I’m Doug Tanner, Cindy’s junior partner. We haven’t seen her all morning, right, Beth? She’s probably out with a client. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I actually need to see the Elmswood House. It has to do with the show,” Mia said. “I just drove up here early to have a look at the property.”
“You’re filming there tonight, right? That place is a real eyesore. And the owner has a lot of stipulations. I keep telling her to sell to a developer.”
“I’m sure it’s a tough sell,” Mia said. “Any idea where I can find Cindy?”
“Well, let me see. The last time I spoke to her was yesterday afternoon. She was going to Elmswood to meet a client. She’s been trying to unload that house for the last six months. Hold on a second here.”
Doug went back to a corkboard covered in hooks with dangling keys. He rifled through the keys and plucked one off its hook, an old skeleton key.
“You don’t see these too much anymore,” he said. Then he fished a card out of his wallet. Cindy Moore’s mobile was on one side and Doug Tanner’s was on the other. “Why don’t you just go over there and have a look around?”
“Thanks,” Mia said, taking the card and the key.
“I’d take you myself, but I have a client arriving in thirty minutes. If you need anything call me.”
Mia dug through her pocket and pulled a Bell, Book, and Candle card out of her pocket and handed it to Doug.
“That’s my mobile,” Mia said.
“Great, if Cindy turns up I will have her call you,” Doug said. “Nice pooch you have there.” He patted Tandy’s head.
Mia walked back to her car, put Tandy in the backseat, and slid behind the wheel. The thought of going back into that house was terrifying. But she was determined to face her fears. As she drove toward the house, a terrible foreboding filled her body. She couldn’t account for why she was having such a strong reaction. After all, she had investigated a dozen haunted places, why was this place burrowing so deeply into her subconscious mind?
She gripped the steering wheel tightly and kept driving, winding away from the beach area. As she turned into the curving streets, the atmosphere shifted. There was something about the old houses and the trees that created a more ominous feeling. She turned onto Elmswood Road.
There was the house, like a giant wound on the street. Even in the bright sunlight everything about it seemed dark and decayed.
She looked for Cindy Moore’s car—the white Lexus. But the street was empty and eerily quiet. She parked and stepped out of the car, letting Tandy out. This time when he sniffed the air, his reaction was very different. The hackles on the back of his neck rose and he made a growling sound.
Mia steeled herself and walked up the driveway. The age-old question of psychic phenomena was whether terrible events could imprint themselves on a place. Was it possible for a location to become infected with the malevolent energy of the people who had lived in that place? Until now, Mia had not believed that was even possible, but every instinct in her body was telling her to run.
“It’s just a house,” she told herself. “I need to face my fears.”
But as she looked up at the house, she felt like something bad was going to happen. As she walked to the front steps, the house loomed over her. The wind blew and the dead tree branches rattled and groaned. Tandy followed, slinking by her calves. The rotting steps creaked under their feet as the pair made their way to the porch. Mia was horribly nervous. She tried to steady her breath as she stood in front of the weathered door, working up the nerve to walk into the house.
Maybe I should try calling Cindy Moore one more time before barging inside, she thought nervously. She pulled the card Doug Tanner gave her from her pocket and dialed Cindy’s number. Her own handset buzzed, and then Mia heard a faint ringing. She looked around, trying to locate the noise before realizing where the sound was coming from—inside the house.
CHAPTER TWELVE
So Cindy Moore was in the house? Mia thought, surprised. Where was her car? Mia stepped up to the weathered door and knocked. The wood rattled with a hollow thud. A part of her wanted to keep quiet as if not to wake up whatever malevolent energy existed inside, but her rational side realized that was crazy. That’s why I need to do this, she thought. I won’t be ruled by fear.
Tandy whimpered and kept looking at Mia, trying to convince her the whole thing was a bad idea.
“Cindy?” she called out. But there was no response. She realized the phone had gone to voicemail and held it up to her ear.
This is Cindy, I can’t come to the phone right now—
“Hey, Cindy, this is Mia Bold,” she said. “I’m standing out front. Your partner Doug Tanner gave me a key so I’m going to let myself in. I just need to take a look at the house.” As the recording finished, Mia’s phone went dark.
With a shaking hand, she pulled out the skeleton key and turned it in the lock. There was a dropping sensation as the tumblers turned and with a groan, the door opened.
The house was pitch-black.
“Darn it,” Mia said and reached into her pocket to pull out her flashlight. The house seemed to swallow the thin beam of light. The floor creaked under their weight as Mia and Tandy entered the dark house. The bad feeling she had was just getting worse. Tandy growled again and Mia remembered the mirror above the credenza on the far wall. She swept the flashlight up and caught her own reflection. The fear in her eyes was obvious and she to
ok a deep breath, glad Johnny Astor wasn’t there to see her like this.
“It’s okay, boy,” she said, feeling Tandy’s hackles rise as they entered the house. Even though it was the afternoon, the house was like a tomb, cold and dark. She swept her light over the peeling paint, tatty wallpaper, and faded carpet in the shadowy hallway.
No wonder Cindy couldn’t sell this place, Mia thought, trying to imagine what a potential buyer would think of such a creepy house. She tilted her flashlight up at the rounded cathedral ceiling. Since yesterday, spider webs had formed around the high window set above the door gable, which barely illuminated the entrance with a dingy light.
“Cindy?” Mia called out, her voice muffled by the damp walls. She listened for an answer but the house was wrapped in silence. She stepped past the credenza and into the rectangular room that ended in a hexagonal bay window. Then she pointed her flashlight at the old leather chair where Donnie Browder was found, still alive. Somehow, the room seemed even gloomier than before. If this was an exercise in defeating her fear, it wasn’t working.
Mia looked up through the circular skylight and saw that the sky was gray and overcast. There was a rustling sound and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Tandy growled and sniffed at the floorboards. Then she remembered the place had mice. The little creatures must be traveling through the walls.
“Cindy?” she called out again. Her own voice echoed for a moment before the empty silence returned. Maybe she had forgotten her cell phone? Mia wondered. That seemed strange since for a real estate agent.
Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps across the ceiling. Her heart started to pound. That must be her, she realized.
Funny, she could have sworn the rustling sound was closer.
Didn’t Cindy say the house was built in a spiral? Maybe that created auditory illusions? She turned and headed for the main stairs with Tandy trailing behind. She called up into the gloomy silence.
“Cindy? Are you up there? Where are you?” Her voice echoed into the stairwell. She started up the steps cautiously. The wood creaked as she climbed to the second floor. One by one, she checked each room for Cindy Moore.
They were empty.
Tandy crept behind her, hackles raised. She could have sworn she heard something running up here. Didn’t she?
If Cindy was downstairs, who ran across the ceiling? Mia thought with a chill. She felt a little bit dizzy. She walked over to one of the windows and leaned against the frame, looking into the overgrown yard. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her.
She looked down at Tandy and patted his head for reassurance.
“What’s wrong with me, boy? What is it about this place?”
Maybe she would find out tonight when they conducted a proper investigation. There could be an electromagnetic field that was affecting her. After all, the physical symptoms were often reported at sites where the EMF readings were high.
Tandy whined and scratched at the window. Something moved outside. She glanced at the yard adjacent to the little plot of land. Something was there, moving in the wooded area near a tangle of bracken and dead trees. Then she saw the little girl in a dark cloak run across the yard. A rush of adrenaline shot through Mia’s system. What if the girl was real? If she could just talk to her that would prove there was no ghost. Mia knocked on the window and the little girl stopped and looked up at her. Then she disappeared through the bushes and was gone.
Darn it, Mia thought to herself. Cindy must know the kid. She needed to find her. Either the Realtor was somewhere in the house or she’d left her phone behind. She tried dialing Cindy’s number again.
A sharp ringtone echoed from downstairs. She hurried down the steps with Tandy at her heels. The ringing seemed to be coming from the kitchen.
“Cindy? Where are you?” Mia called out as she stepped into the room and swept her flashlight over the counter. “I can hear your phone.”
Ring, ring, ring. Then the ringing stopped and there was just a low hum.
She halted in her tracks. The humming sound was coming from the mud room, the small alcove where Cindy had explained people took their muddy boots off. A few steps led down to a wide landing with two doors, one leading to the yard, the other to the garage. The garage door was open and the humming was coming from there. She took a step down and saw Cindy Moore’s white Lexus inside the empty bay.
The motor was running.
Tandy crouched down and started to growl.
Mia swept her flashlight around and gasped. Cindy Moore was slumped over on the built-in bench, skin a livid shade of pink. The phone in her pocket lit up, then suddenly went dark.
Mia stumbled back, horrified. She felt as if she was going to pass out. Her muscles grew weak and numb as she realized what she was seeing.
Mia rushed down the last few steps and over to Cindy and shook her.
“Cindy! Wake up!” she said frantically.
She felt for a pulse, but there was nothing. Cindy Moore was dead, cold to the touch, lifeless.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mia’s heart pounded and she felt a wave of shock rush over her. Tandy whined and backed up the steps. Mia stared at Cindy’s body, surrounded by muddy footprints. This could not be happening.
She just saw the woman yesterday! She’d been so full of life!
Mia stumbled back until she pressed against the wall and fumbled for her phone. She dialed 911 and got a recording asking her to hold for an operator.
As the recording played in her ear, she stared at Cindy Moore’s lifeless body. She was dressed in a pristine suit and heels as if she were meeting a client. Mia glanced at Cindy’s shoes. They were clean, with only the usual scuff marks. That was odd, Mia thought. Someone had tracked mud inside but it wasn’t her.
Mia looked closer at the footprints, trying to identify if they were male or female, large or small, but they were so thick with mud and smeared she couldn’t tell. They just looked vaguely foot shaped.
Then the low purr of the car engine caught her attention again.
Why was her car running in the garage?
Then it struck her, the running car and the bright pink skin—Cindy must have died of carbon monoxide poisoning.
Exactly like the Browder family.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the operator said.
“I’m at five-fifty-five Elmswood Road, a woman is dead here,” Mia said, her voice shaking. Her body tried to recoil from the reality of what she was seeing. Suicide? Had Cindy Moore left her car running on purpose? Why would she do that?
“Please stay on the line, ma’am. We’re sending someone to your location. Can you tell me—” But even as Mia heard the words, her stomach twisted into a knot, cramping. She doubled over and felt sick.
Tandy started to bark, agitated. Mia looked at her dog’s face and suddenly realized: carbon monoxide was colorless, odorless, and tasteless. If Cindy died of carbon monoxide poisoning, she had been breathing the same fumes for the last thirty minutes. No wonder she felt sick and lightheaded! The symptoms were headache, nausea, dizziness, blurred vision, and eventually loss of consciousness. Mia realized she was being poisoned, and Tandy was too!
Tandy barked again.
Mia ran to the garage door and gripped the handle with both hands, but her muscles suddenly felt weak. She pulled as hard as she could but the door wouldn’t budge. She ran to the car to switch off the engine, but the Lexus was one of those keyless cars. She tried the handle, but it was locked. She would have to search through Cindy’s bag and pockets to find the key-fob. But as Tandy started to bark louder and louder, Mia realized she needed to get out now before she passed out.
She ran back toward the front door and burst out of the house, before sinking onto the grass, out of breath. The moment she took a deep breath, she felt better. Slowly, her head started to clear.
Tandy sat down beside her and started licking her.
At that moment, an ambulance pulled up.
A pair of EMTs
jumped out. They were both young, athletic, in their twenties; a man with a beard and a woman with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Mia pointed to the garage. Tandy stayed beside her as if on guard.
“She’s dead,” Mia said. “Her car is running in there.”
“You were inside the house?” said the woman.
“Yes, but only for about thirty minutes,” Mia said. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going to check you out anyway,” the woman said and retrieved some portable oxygen and an oximeter.
“It’s okay,” Mia said and petted Tandy as the EMT strapped the mask around Mia’s face and read the numbers. Her partner put on a mask and disappeared into the house. After a few breaths of oxygen, Mia’s residual dizziness and headache dissolved.
“Your blood oxygen level looks good,” the woman said. “Just keep breathing through the mask for a few minutes.”
“What about Tandy? Is he okay?”
The EMT check the dog’s heartbeat and stroked his side.
“He’s fine,” she said. “You will be too. It’s just a precaution.”
The garage door opened and the male EMT stepped outside. Then a blue and white police Ford Explorer pulled up in front of the house and parked.
A tall middle-aged man climbed out of the car. Mia thought he looked familiar. She squinted into the sunlight, trying to figure out where she’d seen him before. He was heavyset, wearing a leather jacket and a white IZOD shirt over baggy jeans. A police badge hung around his neck, plainly visible. Despite his stocky build, he walked with a swagger. His hair was cut military style and peppered with gray.
“Hey, Janey. What’ve we got here?” the detective said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. The EMTs and the cop conferred for a moment and disappeared back inside the garage. A few minutes later, the low hum of the white Lexus’s engine shut off and Mia realized they’d found the key.
