by Kathi Daley
Jordan nodded. “Sad is putting it mildly. Before I inherited the house I wasn’t really interested in my family history. Especially not the Harrington side, because I’m not connected by blood. But once I realized there was a huge house on a large piece of property just waiting for someone to show them some love, I was hooked on both.”
“We were just discussing the history of the place. One of the questions we had dealt with the reason Hartford Harrington moved his family from San Francisco to White Eagle in the first place.”
“As far as I can tell, he made his decision after Hope died.”
“Hope?” I asked.
“Hope was Hillary’s twin sister,” Jordan informed us. “She was killed when she was thirteen, about a year before the family moved to White Eagle.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard about a sixth child. How did she die?”
“She ran into traffic and was hit by a bus.” Jordan paused and looked around before he continued. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Hartford had two siblings who died when they were young.”
I nodded. “We came across some information about his older sister and younger brother.”
“The sister killed herself with sleeping pills and the brother died in a boating accident, but there was more to it, I’m afraid. Hartford’s grandmother came from a family with its own tragic past. While she seemed fine and lived a long and healthy life, two of her five siblings, both females, committed suicide after exhibiting paranoia that was somehow related to hallucinations they said they’d been having. Hartford’s grandmother had three children, two of whom lived full lives, but Hartford’s mother, like her mother’s sisters, complained of hearing voices in her head and people in their house. She died when Hartford was ten. His sister overdosed a year later after exhibiting similar behavior.”
“And his brother? The one who died in the boating accident. Did he suffer from hallucinations as well?”
“No. At least I don’t think so, based on what I’ve found. He drowned when the boat he was sailing in capsized. Hartford was raised by his father. He was aware that the females in the family seemed to have suffered from some mental illness, but he didn’t know what it was or feel affected by it. He married and had six children. Hudson, the oldest, didn’t exhibit signs of any illness, as expected. He was cautious as Hope and Hillary approached puberty because it seemed to correspond with the onset of the hallucinations. Hillary hadn’t yet demonstrated that she’d been experiencing hallucinations, but Hope had begun talking to people who weren’t there. She was running from someone only she could see the day she died. Hartford was crushed. According to relatives, he couldn’t deal with the possibility that all his daughters would be afflicted with the disease, so he moved the family to White Eagle and, other than supporting them financially, forgot about them.”
“That’s awful,” I gasped.
“It’s one of the cruelest and most inhumane things I’ve ever heard of.”
“Did Hillary ever exhibit symptoms associated with the disease?” Tony asked.
“Not as far as I know. I’ve heard she was fine mentally, although when her father tore her away from her life in San Francisco and moved her to White Eagle, she was about as pissed off as a person could get. I plan to continue my research now that I’m here. From what I could find in family records, diaries, and personal recollections, neither Hillary nor Hudson demonstrated any symptoms of the illness. If he had the gene, Hudson most definitely would have had symptoms by the time he reached his sixteenth birthday.”
“Someone told us that Henrietta had hallucinations before she died,” Tony said. “I wonder if the younger two did as well.”
“Perhaps.” Jordan motioned for the waitress to bring a pitcher of beer and three glasses to our table. “When I inherited the house, my first reaction was to sell it. As I said before, I’m not related to the Harrington family biologically, and I have no attachment to the house. I do like to bring old things to new life, though, and I was a bit bored with my life in San Francisco and had been thinking of a change, so I began to consider keeping the place. My older brother reminded me that the house was supposed to be haunted, which only intrigued me more. It was at that point that I decided to look in to the history of the place, and by the time I had most of the facts, I was hooked. My intention when I got to White Eagle was to restore the house and solve the remaining mysteries surrounding the family who lived here.”
“It is fascinating,” Tony said.
Jordan poured beer into each of the glasses the waitress dropped off. We placed our orders, and then Jordan continued. “In my mind, the only death that seems cut and dried was Hudson’s. There aren’t any discrepancies regarding who shot him and why. But Hillary’s disappearance was never explained, and the deaths of the younger children are shrouded in a certain amount of uncertainty.”
“Of course, now you have the added mystery of the skeleton in the closet,” I added.
“I understand the two of you enjoy playing amateur sleuth,” Jordan said. “I spoke to a man named Hap when I stopped off at his store, and we got to talking about my skeleton. He said you’d most likely come by to talk to me because you enjoyed investigating such things.”
“It’s true Tony and I do get caught up in whatever mystery is gripping the town. Tony’s a genius on the computer and I’m just nosy.” I laughed.
“We wouldn’t want to do anything you felt was a violation of your privacy,” Tony added.
“It’s okay,” Jordan said. “I’m happy to have some help on this, especially someone familiar with the town and the people who’ve been around for a while. I’d like us to work together.”
“Definitely,” I said for both Tony and myself. “Mike will be looking into the skeleton from an official perspective, but he’s usually pretty cool about working with us.”
“Can the two of you come by the house tomorrow night?” Jordan asked.
We nodded.
“I’ll bring a pizza,” Tony offered.
“Great. I’ll show you around the house, and we can come up with a plan from there.”
Chapter 8
Monday, October 22
I started my route the next morning with Hap’s store. He would have been a small child when Hillary disappeared but a few years older when Houston was shot. Based on what we’d learned from Rena Wiggins, Houston hadn’t gone to school or even left the grounds after the family arrived, but after Hannah died he’d been alone there, with only the nanny and cook. It seemed possible, maybe even probable, that he might have snuck out from time to time. I certainly would have. I couldn’t imagine living in that big old house after my entire family had died.
Talk about creepy.
“Morning, Hap,” I said as Tilly and I walked in.
“Morning, Tess, Tilly. Did the two of you have a nice weekend?”
“We did. Spent most of it with Tony, who by the way, said the paint I took out to him was exactly the color he was hoping for.”
“Glad to hear it. That boy does seem to have some specific ideas. Unlike Mr. Westlake, who knows what he’s going to need but can’t narrow down the colors at all.”
“I heard you spoke to him about paint. It was industrious of you to introduce yourself.”
“Introducing myself to a man who seems to be in the market for a whole lot of paint and home remodel supplies is a good idea. I think he’s interested in what I have to offer, although, as I said, he hasn’t decided on colors yet. Still, I wanted to let him know I was here to see to all his home improvement needs when he’s ready.”
“Tony and I ran into him at the burger place by the lake last night. He was alone and we’d just arrived, so we invited him to join us. He mentioned meeting you. Seemed like you made an impression.”
“Glad to hear it. Did you enjoy your evening?”
“We had a nice time. Jordan knows quite a bit about the Harrington family. We had an interesting conversation.”
“He seemed fine with it,” I said defensively. “In fact, Tony and I are seeing him again tonight.”
“Great. Feel free to talk up my personalized service. I sure would like to have the chance to provide all his supplies.”
“I’ll talk you up big if I have the chance. Listen, you were here in White Eagle when the Harringtons were. I don’t suppose you remember anything? I know you were just a kid, but it occurred to me that you might have been old enough by the time the youngest boy died to remember him.”
“I didn’t know him well, but I ran into him from time to time after his sister fell down the stairs and he started sneaking into town. Can’t say I blamed him for it. I can’t imagine being cooped up in that big old house with so many deaths weighing on me.”
“I understand the father didn’t want him to leave the house.”
Hap shrugged. “Seems like he didn’t want any of those kids to leave, but I don’t remember him being around to do anything about it.”
“What about the nanny? She must have at least attempted to control the situation.”
Hap shook his head. “I don’t remember there being a nanny. At least not at the end. Guess there might have been one when the mother first died.”
I frowned. “Then who took care of the children?”
“I can’t say for sure, but it seems the boy might have been looking after himself by the time I started running in to him. He must have had money. I remember seeing him at the diner from time to time. He wasn’t real sociable, but that’s understandable.”
I made a mental note to check into the nanny situation. Rena Wiggins had said she was living in the house up to the point when she was fired, but she didn’t know what happened after that. If the nanny quit at some point, you’d think the father would have found someone else. Maybe Hap didn’t have the whole story.
“Do you remember anyone the boy hung out with? Maybe another teen living in town?”
“I saw him with Wilbur Woodbine a couple of times.”
“The man the older son thought killed his sister?”
Hap nodded. “Wilbur was a simple man and lived close to the Harrington place. I imagine it might have been convenient for the boy to go to Wilbur if he needed something, especially if he believed Wilbur when he said he hadn’t hurt his sister. Sure, Wilbur had shot his brother, but from what I understand, that was self-defense.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Yeah, I guess. It still seems odd he would befriend a man who was responsible for his brother’s death.”
“The Harrington place was out there quite a ways, and Wilbur was close by. Beggars can’t be choosers, and Wilbur was a nice enough man.”
Okay, that was interesting. It was too bad Wilbur wasn’t still alive. I’d love to be able to talk to him about what really had happened out there in the woods. “Can you think of anyone else? Someone who’s still alive and living in White Eagle?”
“No one comes to mind right off, but I can think on it.”
I smiled. “Thanks.” I picked up my bag. “Do you think Houston Harrington really jumped to his death as people say he did?”
Hap shook his head. “He had a rough life, but he seemed to be doing okay when I saw him. He had money and seemed fairly intelligent. I heard he even made some noise about trying to find someone who used to work for the family but had been fired. A tutor, I think.”
“Rena Wiggins?”
“Sounds right. Maybe he was close to her, but his father hired a nanny who didn’t like her, so she was let go.”
“Seems like you remember more about Houston than you thought you did.”
“Yeah. I guess I must have talked with him a time or two. Heard things from others as well. Been a while, but now that I’m thinking about it, some things are coming back to me. You know who you might talk to is Gordy Rothenberger. He’s several years older than me and I think he would have been the same age as the boy. And he lived out there near the Harrington house in those days. In fact, I think he might have lived just down the lane from Wilbur Woodbine. I could see Gordy maybe reaching out to the boy after he lost his whole family.”
“Thanks, Hap. I’ll stop by his place. If you think of anything else, call me.”
“I will, darlin’ and don’t forget to talk to young Westlake about my services.”
“I won’t forget.”
I decided to use my lunch hour to speak to Gordy. I didn’t have his number and wasn’t completely certain he still living where he had as a boy, but if he did, his place wasn’t all that far off my route, so I wouldn’t lose much time checking it out, hoping that was still his home, he was there, and he was willing to talk to me. I wanted to get at least half my route done before then, so I put my head down to avoid eye contact with the people I met along the way. Tilly and I quickened our pace and forged ahead.
******
Not only was Gordy living in the house I remembered, he was home and more than happy to speak with me. Better yet, as Hap had predicted, he’d established something of a friendship with Houston Harrington and had some insight into what might have occurred all those years ago.
“Were you friends with Houston for long?” I asked the man, who sat hunched in a La-Z-Boy recliner.
“Couple of years,” Gordy answered. “The woman his dad sent to watch the children was strict; she ruled the house with an iron fist. It got worse after the tutor was fired. Houston used to sneak out at night, and we’d meet up at Wilbur’s. He couldn’t always get out, so he wouldn’t always show up, although I knew he tried. Well, that was until the nanny left and he didn’t need to sneak out anymore.”
“The nanny left? When?”
“I guess around the time Hannah died. No, actually, I think it might have been before she died. I seem to remember Hannah and Houston were both seen in town from time to time after the nanny left.”
“And their father didn’t hire a replacement?”
Gordy narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. “No. Now that I’ve had a moment to think on it, I’m sure once the nanny left it was just Houston and Hannah all alone up there at that big house. Hannah stayed closer to home. I don’t know exactly what happened, but at some point she died and Houston was alone.”
That didn’t sound right. Why would Mr. Harrington leave his children completely alone? Gordy must be mistaken. He was just a teenager himself at the time. He couldn’t know everything that was going on in the house.
“Tell me about Houston. What was he like?”
“Smart, even though he’d hadn’t been to a real school since he moved to White Eagle. He was a fun guy, even though he had a sadness about him. He didn’t have the opportunity to meet people, so other than me and Wilbur, he didn’t have any real friends.”
“What about after he started coming to town? Did he make friends then?”
“Not really. Not good friends. He’d talk to people sometimes, and I saw him talking to some of the other kids around our age, but it seemed he didn’t want to get too close to anyone. He used to visit this one guy sometimes. Owned the bar in town for a long time. Sold it a while back. Heard he died last winter.”
“Pike?”
“Yeah, that’s right. His name was Pike. I’m not sure how they met, but I remember Houston hanging out in the bar, talking to him. Seems they had something in common, although I’m not sure what.”
Pike Porter had lived in White Eagle since the nineteen forties and was murdered last December, so I couldn’t talk to him about Houston now.
“Can you think of anyone else Houston might have been friends with?”
Gordy shook his head. “Like I said, he didn’t go out of his way to make friends. I think there was a lot of really weird stuff going on at that house, and he didn’t want to get himself into any situations where folks would want him to talk about it.”
I supposed that was understandable. “Can you remember Ho
uston ever saying he heard voices, or saw people who weren’t there?”
“Houston didn’t seem sick. I heard about his sister, but Houston was fine. He seemed to have his stuff together better than most people. He even had plans to better his situation. He was going to find the tutor I mentioned before, take his sister, and they were going to leave White Eagle and ‘the house of death,’ as he called it. He had money. A lot of it. I guess he must have gotten it from his father. He was totally fine, I’m sure of it.”
“So why did he jump?”
“Oh, he didn’t jump. I don’t rightly know what happened, but I do know he didn’t jump. Why would he? He’d lived in that house for years. And I’m sure it was hard. But by the time they say he jumped, the nanny was gone, and he was finally free. Nope, Houston didn’t jump. If he went out that window, he was pushed. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Do you remember hearing about it when it happened?”
Gordy shrugged. “Sure. There was talk. But that was all it was.”
I realized if Houston had been living at the house on his own at the time of his death, there wouldn’t have been anyone to report he’d jumped. “Do you remember who found Houston’s body?”
Gordy rubbed his chin. I could almost see the gears turning in his head. “You know, I don’t rightly recall. I hadn’t seen him for a while, so I asked Wilbur about him, and he said Houston was found dead on the patio. It appeared he’d jumped, but Wilbur wasn’t buying it either, though we didn’t talk about it a whole lot.”
So someone found Houston’s body and buried it in the family plot, but his two friends didn’t have any of the facts. Weird. Unless Houston was killed, and it had been his killer who had seen to the body.
After I left Gordy’s place, I went to Mike’s office. I still didn’t have all the answers, and there was a lot that wasn’t lining up, yet the longer Gordy spoke, the stronger was my belief of who the skeleton in the closet belonged to.
