Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1)

by Dorey, Michelle

  “She was out cold. She’d been drinking and actually staggered when he brought the food up. He didn’t feel right leaving Susan in her care. It’s a good thing he stayed because it wasn’t long after, that the old fool actually passed out.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “I hired him on the spot, seeing his concern for my little girl. We’ve been together ever since.”

  GM was rich; she admitted as much to me. It showed from the house and furnishings to the very clothes on her back. Maybe Lawrence had seen an opportunity back then to get close to my grandmother. It was his word that the nanny had been drunk. What if he poisoned her to take her place and ever since he’d been ingratiating himself to GM to live the highlife? GM had to be at least ten years older than him and maybe he was now eyeing his inheritance.

  Before I arrived that is.

  “Does he eat with us?” Surely he wouldn’t doctor the food if he had to eat it as well.

  “Usually we eat together but he won’t while you’re here. He wants to give us a chance to visit. He’s thoughtful that way. He was like a father to Susan.” She sighed and her gaze drifted to the window, where the fading light cast a glow.

  “So who is my grandfather? Whatever happened to him?” Now that I’d met my grandmother, I was curious to know more.

  “I don’t know.” She smiled and her eyebrows bobbed high.

  “You don’t know where he is...” I shook my head and leaned closer, “or you don’t know who my mother’s father is.”

  “Both, I’m afraid.” She smiled and some color came into her cheeks. “You must think I’m awful to admit that, but it’s the truth. For years, I was the party girl. I had a series of relationships.” She chuckled. “Is it a series when they’re concurrent? Let’s just say your grandfather was a kind man. They were all kind and devilishly handsome.”

  She set the unfinished drink on the coffee table and then her hands closed over the cane, pulling herself to her feet. A smile lit her face when she looked down at me. “You’d never know it now, but at one time I was the belle of the ball. Dancing till dawn and sharp as a tack the next day.”

  For just a moment the old flame sparked in her face and I had no trouble believing what she’d said. Even though lines etched her skin, her eyes and the bones in her face showed classic beauty. She’d been such a hot commodity that she didn’t even know who the father of her only child was. To be shocked would be hypocritical. I’d had my share of guys as well. Luckily, birth control had advanced since my grandmother’s time.

  I swallowed the rest of my drink and stood up, extending my elbow to her. “You are a card GM. How did Mom ever turn out so conservative? None of those guys you were with were like that?”

  She squeezed my arm before her hand rested gently there. “If they were, I wouldn’t have been with them very long. No, it had to be some recessive quirk in the gene pool.”

  I laughed and we entered the dining room, arm in arm—two peas in a pod. Yeah, I was warming up to the old doll.

  ***

  The table was set with fine china and a candelabra which cast flickering warmth over the fresh bouquet of red roses. I watched Lawrence stand at the sideboard slicing the beef which held a tinge of pink in the center. Bowls of steaming oven-roasted potatoes, Harvard beets and the Yorkshire puddings were lined up before me. If Lawrence was trying to poison me, it wouldn’t be with this meal, not when GM would be sharing the food. There was a genuine affection between the two of them.

  “Bon appetite!” Lawrence set the platter of meat next to my grandmother and then with a smile, he left us to our dinner.

  “Dig in, Keira. Lawrence is an excellent cook.” She helped herself to the beef and then slathered it with gravy. “Is there anyone special in your life, Keira? Some guy who stands out?”

  “No one in particular. I went out with a guy for a year but it kind of fizzled and died. We parted friends and I still follow him on Facebook.” I took the platter of meat from her hand and put two thick slices onto my plate.

  “All this social media! In my day, we really did socialize and the media was there to take pictures. Oh the glamour of the dresses and movie stars. DeNiro and Redford were crazy cardsharps, did you know that?” She smiled and her eyes closed for a moment, reliving the time.

  “They’re not my grandfather then. Not from the sounds of it.”

  THUD!

  I jumped in my seat and spun around to see what had caused the bang. A picture, a small one displaying a vase spilling over with yellow roses, had fallen to the floor.

  Lawrence burst through the door and his eyes examined GM. He shot a dark look my way before he spotted the picture on the floor. “Again?” he said.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  As he stepped over to where the painting lay, he muttered, “That Jarrod!”

  “Lawrence!” GM snapped.

  “Oh, sorry.” He glanced over at me. “I’m upset with... the handyman we use is all...” His voice faded. I could tell he was lying through his teeth, but held my tongue. He picked the picture up, feeling the back of it and holding a thin wire between his fingers. He glanced at GM and sighed. “Sorry. The wire snapped.”

  The glow of the candles cast dark shadows under my grandmother’s eyes when she set her knife and fork on the plate before her. She took a ragged breath and her eyes were hard staring at him. “Tomorrow, please check the other painting. I don’t want my Waterhouse damaged.”

  “Of course, Pamela.” He took the painting with him when he walked back through to the kitchen.

  The mood in the room turned solemn. GM sat back and lifted the napkin from her lap, depositing it next to her plate. She looked tired and drawn from the surprise of the picture falling, the frailty of her years showing in the lines of her face. “You’ll have to excuse me, Keira. I’m afraid I didn’t sleep well earlier and I’m exhausted. Please finish your dinner and don’t worry about me.” She rose to her feet, holding the edge of the table in her hands. Her skin was mottled and parchment thin, showing a map of blue-tinged veins.

  She tapped the cane on the floor, and immediately, Lawrence appeared, pushing the door wide. The expression on his face was tight and worried. “Pamela?”

  “I’m ready, Lawrence. Please take me to my room and then see that Keira has everything she needs.”

  My stomach was a knot as I watched them toddle across the room and then go through the door. The picture falling had really shaken GM up. But, considering her age, any sort of shock would probably do that. But she wasn’t the only one. A pall had settled in the dining room and the flames of the candles faltered, casting shadows in the corners of the room. The hair on the back of my neck tingled and I turned to examine behind me. I felt eyes peering at me but there was nothing there. Nothing but the painting of the Lady of Shalott.

  The room felt like it was closing in. I rose and picked up the two plates, pushing my way into the kitchen. The gleaming aluminum refrigerator purred quietly and the overhead lights were bright and steady. A plate of food sat untouched on the table below the window. I breathed a sigh of relief, only then aware that I’d been holding my breath.

  The feeling of being watched evaporated in the glare of the modern kitchen. I finished scraping the plates and loading them into the dishwasher. There were still items in the dining room but for some reason the thought of going back there totally creeped me out.

  Lawrence could get them later. It had been a long day and I was tired. The strain of meeting my grandmother was wearing me down. I’d feel better in the morning after a good night’s sleep.

  EIGHT

  I GOT OUT OF MY CLOTHES and hung them in the small closet set next to the bed. I tossed my underclothes in the hamper and grabbed a cotton nightgown from the chest of drawers. There was no way I was taking any chances leaving clothes lying around. The comforter was still pulled back and I clambered into it, pulling it up to my chin.

  When I reached to turn the bedside lamp off, I was in complete, silent blackness. No streetlights
filtered into the room and no cars or buses rushed by. I was in the country, in the middle of nowhere. I’d never experienced anything as still or dark as this. I might have a hard time drifting off to sleep with all this peace and quiet.

  I turned the light back on and got out of bed. Crossing the room to the kitchenette, I flipped the fluorescent light under the cabinet to life. It lit the green countertop but the glow didn’t extend much beyond the love seat and chair. Just enough light to be familiar for me to sleep with. With a resigned, yet thankful shrug of my shoulders, I retrieved my laptop. So much for being off the grid. I surfed till I found a site which featured street noise, with muted car horns and the sound of traffic. I left it on my desk with the speakers turned low and the screen off.

  When I started back to the bed, the sound of water hissing through a tap filled my ears. I peered at the computer and then turned to look down the hallway where the bathroom was. A light showed under the door, spreading out across the hardwood. I froze in place, my heart leaping to my throat. There was someone in my bathroom! Probably that same person who had taken my clothes and arranged the bed for me!

  I looked around for a weapon. Something to defend myself in case whoever it was, was dangerous. I had a feeling it was a woman, not some burly thug. Why else would they pick up my laundry?

  The kitchen! I rushed over and yanked a drawer out, Good! There were knives lined up there. I grabbed the biggest one and tiptoed down the hall. Stopping just outside the door, the sound of water pouring from the tap was louder now. But other than that, there was nothing else.

  Quick as a flash, my hand gripped the door handle and I burst inside. My eyes took in all of the room in one sweep and my jaw fell open. The only sign of life was the water hissing from the tap and spiraling down the drain. I stepped over to the tub and peeked behind the shower curtain. Again, nothing. My shoulders drooped and a sigh of relief passed my lips. I stood for a moment, willing my heart to slow, my hand gradually loosening its grip on the wooden handle of the knife.

  But if there wasn’t anyone there, how had the tap turned on? I reached out and pushed the porcelain lever shut. The sounds of hydraulic air brakes drifted in from the other room, making me jerk to the side. It was the computer. The white noise I had selected. God, I was jumpy as a cat.

  But the water running in the sink was weird. I had used the bathroom when I came up but I know I had turned the tap off as well as the light. Yet, the only person up here was me. There was no way anyone could have gotten by me after I turned the light on. And it hadn’t happened until I had used my computer.

  My grandmother’s words rang in my ears as if hearing them for the first time—”Not a living soul.” I looked into the mirror, feeling the blood drain from my face as the full impact of her words sank in. The key word had been “living.” The whites of my eyes rimmed the blue orbs and I gasped.

  The place was haunted? Of course I’d seen my share of horror movies, being more scared than I’d ever want to admit to. But I’d never expected to actually be in one!

  Even more sinister was the fact that grandmother in all likelihood, knew that when she’d asked me here. What the hell? She didn’t have the decency to maybe inform me of that fact when I’d told her about the clothes and the bed thing!

  No wonder she’d gotten so shaken up with the picture falling from the wall. She knew it was some kind of ghost thing... and so did Lawrence! The two of them conniving together...

  Hell, now I knew why she’d been so calm when I told her my clothes had been moved. And her question, asking me how I felt when that happened. She was fishing to see if I’d clued in that her house was haunted.

  For two cents, I’d go down there and wake her up. She’d get a piece of my mind before I called a cab and hightailed it out of there!

  “Argh!” I had no money nor credit cards!

  I rushed out of the room and down the hall, grabbing my cell phone from its charger on the kitchen counter. I punched my mother’s contact number and then held the small phone firmly to my ear. After a few seconds of dead air, I looked at the screen. “No service detected.” Great! Now the cell service was down and I was stuck here!

  The deadly silence in the room caught my attention. The sounds of traffic that had filled the air earlier was gone. I slammed the phone onto the counter and stormed over to the laptop sitting on the small coffee table. The screen was black and not a light showed in the crease of the gadget. I couldn’t even send her an email!

  I stomped over to the fridge and yanked the door open wide. Through the clear plastic of the vegetable tray, I spied the melon. I pulled the tray out and my fingers closed over the plump fruit. Nudging the fridge door shut with my hip, I turned to the cabinets. Somehow, I just knew there’d be marshmallows.

  After the dinner had been short-circuited, I was starving! If I had to bunk in a haunted house, at least I’d gorge on my favorite comfort food. It would be a long time before I’d be able to fall asleep.

  I sliced the fruit and dug out the seeds, leaving them in a pulpy mush on the counter. Grabbing a plate and the bag of marshmallows, I headed to the bed. It was stationed against the wall providing a good view of the long room and hallway. If there were any ghosts hanging around, I’d see them coming.

  NINE

  I WOKE WITH A START. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and I looked around cautiously, my cheek snuggled into the pillow. The sofa and chair were exactly as I’d left them and the laptop was on the coffee table. I pushed myself up and peered over at the kitchen.

  The green countertop was shiny and clean. “Hmph!” The melon seeds I’d scooped out were nowhere to be seen. Whatever this was, hanging around the old house was obsessed with order. Probably I’d left a trace of toothpaste in the sink when I’d brushed my teeth before bed and that was why the water had been turned on. It had still been kind of creepy.

  I threw the covers back and swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the solid coolness of the floor under my feet. I had thought I’d be awake all night, keeping vigil, but I’d slept like a baby. Actually, it was the best sleep I’d had in a long time. Still, I was going to have a few words with my grandmother about all this.

  When I passed by the stairwell, I paused, listening for any sounds below. The sun was well above the horizon and it had to be close to eleven. Oh well. It wasn’t like I had to get up for school anymore. Actually, aside from cocktails and dinner with GM my time was pretty much my own. I still didn’t get why she needed me here... not with Lawrence taking care of her. And the fact the room was seriously spooky wasn’t helping her case.

  I yawned as I ambled down the hall and into the bathroom. After turning the shower on, I shimmied out of the nightgown and let it fall to the floor. I looked down at it and my eyes narrowed, wondering if the ghost would put it away for me. When I stepped into the tub and felt the water pour down on my head, I smiled.

  “Put that away for me, will you Molly?” Molly. The name had popped into my head and seemed just perfect. Molly the Maid. As I rubbed shampoo into my hair, I pictured her, the navy dress with the starched, white lace collar. I mean, if I had to put up with a ghost, at least she was a useful one... so far.

  “Do you do laundry, Molly? That’d be nice.”

  The door slammed shut and I jumped out of my skin. I swiped the soap from my face and peeked out the curtain. The nightgown was gone. There was no doubt who picked it up but she sure didn’t have a sense of humor. I smiled when the water cascaded over my head, rinsing the shampoo away. I guess laundry was a stretch for her. I’d better not push my luck.

  I don’t know why, but in the daytime, ghosts weren’t nearly as scary.

  After finishing in the bathroom, taking the time to blow-dry my hair and force some sort of order to my red-tinted curls, I wandered back into the bedroom. The bed was still a disheveled heap of sheets and comforter. I could leave it. Maybe by the time I came back after spending the day exploring the outside, it would be made up—just like in a hote
l but without the need to tip.