Ghost House Revenge

by Clare McNally

  “Are these questions absolutely necessary?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Bryan insisted. “But they can wait until tomorrow if—”

  “It’s okay,” Gina said. “What else do you want to know?”

  “Did you see anything the driver did before the bus crashed?”

  “I said I had my eyes closed.”

  “You didn’t see her jump from the bus?”

  “Is that what she did?” Gina asked. “Is that how she disappeared?”

  “We don’t know,” Bryan said, standing. “That’s enough for tonight, I think. If you remember anything more, you can tell me at school tomorrow. I’ll be there again.”

  “Sure,” Gina said.

  Gary walked Bryan to the front door while Melanie sat in the living room with her daughter.

  “Are you really going to all the children’s homes?” Gary asked.

  Bryan shook his head. “No. I really just wanted to talk to Alicen. She told me she saw the driver jump from the bus, but now I’m beginning to think I’m wasting my time following that lead. The Suffolk police couldn’t locate a body near the construction site.”

  “Why would Alicen lie to you?” Gary asked.

  “Beats me,” Bryan said. “Maybe she’s got an overactive imagination.”

  “Do you want me to have her father contact you?”

  “Nah,” Bryan said. “I’ve got enough parents breathing down my neck.” He opened the door. “Call me if you learn anything new.”

  “I’ll do that,” Gary promised.

  He stood unmoving as Bryan left the house, listening until his car started and drove away. Then he locked the front door and returned to the living room. Melanie and Gina were sharing an armchair, Gina’s head on her mother’s shoulder. Melanie looked up at her husband.

  “Gina says he made her think of the night you were hurt,” she said. “Don’t you think he could have shown a little more tact?”

  “He’s just doing his job,” Gary said gently. “Gina, you know this has nothing to do with that time.”

  “I know, daddy,” Gina said. She climbed out of the chair. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

  “Don’t think about it,” Melanie said. “Just get a good night’s sleep.”

  But Gina did think about it, lying alone in the darkness of her room. Over and over she heard Bryan Davis asking, “Did you see the driver?” Gina rolled over and clutched at her pillow, trying to relax. The last thing she saw before falling asleep was Davis, standing over her in his blue uniform.

  Minutes ticked by, and Gina sank deeper and deeper into sleep. She was warm and safe in her bed, under a cotton comforter that surrounded her with gentle softness.

  And then something made that softness disappear, ripping it from her body. She bolted upright, her bare legs sprawled out in front of her. She couldn’t move her arms to cover them.

  “Hey, there,” she heard Bryan Davis say.

  She looked around. The room was empty, and yet someone had to be in there because the light was on. She leaned forward, her eyes darting. Everything seemed okay. But her clock radio was playing music, and she couldn’t remember having turned it on.

  “Did you see the driver?”

  “I’m cold,” Gina heard herself say.

  “Did you see the driver?”

  Next thing, Gina was leaning over the side of her bed, face down into a black pit. Two eyes glared up at her through the darkness, pinpoints of red light. Her stuffed kangaroo suddenly came into view, floating up toward her. No, just its severed head. Gina’s hand dropped into the pit, grabbing for it. It turned into a piece of glass.

  “Did you see the driver!”

  “No!”

  The glass dropped, down and down. The pit closed up, but it was not her floor she saw next. It was the sand of the beach, flecked with snow. Everything was icy cold in her room.

  Bryan Davis was leaning over her, smiling. He looked so nice, and yet there was an evil glimmer in his eyes when he said, “Hey, there. Did you see the driver?”

  “Go away!”

  Bryan grinned more broadly and grabbed hold of her wrist. His features began to change, his graying hair turned darker, thicker. The blue uniform swirled and became a cape. The round face became more chiseled. Something flashed in Gina’s dream consciousness, making her remember this face against her will. She wanted to get away, and yet she could only lay helplessly as cold fingers wrapped around her neck.

  “Did you see the driver?”

  “No!”

  The fingers tightened.

  “You must die, you know,” the man said.

  “Nnnnnoooo!”

  The man smiled.

  Gina screamed and bolted upright, alone in her room but unable to realize yet that it had all been a terrible dream. She screamed and screamed, terror churning in her stomach. The door opened; Derek was there with Alicen at his side. They were walking toward her bed, eyeing her strangely.

  “Go away!” Gina shouted at them.

  “It’s only me,” Derek said. “Derek. You’re dreaming.”

  Gina simply stared at him, tears falling from her huge eyes. Her mother burst into the room just then and said in a soft voice, “Oh, my God.”

  She climbed onto the bed and took Gina into her arms. The girl was trembling all over. Melanie could feel her heart beating. She stroked her hair and rocked her.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m here, my baby. It’s okay.”

  Gary came into the room, Kyle and Nancy behind him, sleepy-eyed. He glanced briefly at Derek, then hobbled to his daughter’s bed.

  “Were you having a dream about the accident?” he asked, taking Gina’s hand.

  Gina shook her head. “That man was here.”

  “What man?”

  “The man with the cape,” Gina said hoarsely. She stared down at her blanket with round eyes. “The man from the beach last year, who tried to hurt me. He was here!”

  Alicen gasped. Derek quickly hushed her.

  “Daddy—” Nancy said.

  Gary looked over his shoulder at the two younger children. “Kyle, take your sister back to bed,” he ordered.

  “I wanna hear about Gina’s dream,” Kyle whined.

  “You want a kick in the pants?” Gary snapped. “Get back into bed!”

  Kyle took Nancy by the wrist, not daring to question his father when he acted that angrily. Once he was gone, Gary turned back to Gina and said, “Honey, you know that man will never come back.”

  Gina looked at her mother.

  “Aren’t you worried that he will, maybe?”

  Melanie didn’t answer at first. She thought of the day she had found the bloodstain on her painting, and then of the ransacked studio. Sarah Kaufman’s face tried to creep into her mind, but she forced it away.

  “No, of course I’m not,” she insisted.

  “Gina, why don’t you try to go to sleep again?” Gary suggested. “You’ll probably feel better.”

  Gina lay back down and held fast to her mother’s hand. The room was silent, and soon she was sleeping again. Carefully, Melanie let go of her and left the room with the others.

  “It’s that cop’s fault,” she whispered. “Asking her all those questions!”

  “I thought Gina didn’t care about the accident,” Alicen said.

  “Go to bed, Alicen,” Derek ordered. “It’s late.”

  “Is Gina okay?”

  “She’s fine, I’m sure,” Gary said, not believing it.

  Alicen tapped Melanie on the arm. “Did someone try to kill her last year?”

  “Alicen, did you hear me?” Derek said. “I told you to go to bed!”

  “I’m going,” Alicen said, walking away, pouting.

  After she turned the corner, Derek looked at Gary and said, “Is there really no chance that the man who hurt you might come back again?”

  “None at all,” Melanie said. “He was a prowler, and the police took care of him.”

&n
bsp; “I just want to be sure my daughter is safe here,” Derek said.

  “She is,” Melanie insisted. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “No, wait a minute,” Gary said. “Derek’s got a right to know the truth.”

  “Are you sure you want to tell him?”

  “Of course I am,” Gary said. “Derek, remember the day you moved in, when I told you the owner of our house had been a captain in the eighteenth-century British navy?”

  “What’s he got to do with this?’

  “Take off your coat and come into my study,” Gary said. “It’s time you heard about him.”

  12

  Derek had always liked Gary’s office. It was a decidedly masculine room, with dark paneling and leather-covered furniture. A huge antique map hung on one wall, and near the window stood a brass stand that had once held a telescope. Now, as promised weeks earlier, Derek was about to learn of the man who had put them in here. He couldn’t see the connection with Gina’s dream, but curiosity made him anticipate the upcoming story with interest. He hung his raincoat up on a brass coat rack and sat in a chair. Melanie and Gary shared a small couch across from him.

  “To begin with,” Gary said, “our ‘hero’s’ name was Jacob Armand, a British naval captain who came to America during the early 1790s.”

  “The colonists, of course, didn’t care much for the British at that time,” Melanie put in. “Which made life rather difficult for him, added to the fact that he was in the enemy’s militia.”

  “So he built a house far away from the town,” said Gary, tightening the belt on his robe. “He hoped they’d leave him alone. It turns out he had to pay a sort of protection fee to keep them from stoning his windows out.”

  “It didn’t hurt him to pay it,” Melanie said. “Jacob Armand was a very wealthy man.”

  “I can see that by this house,” Derek answered.

  “One day,” Gary went on, “Jacob met a beautiful young woman named Lydia Browning. They fell in love, and everything was fine and dandy. But there was a hitch—Lydia was married.”

  “Her husband detested the British with a passion,” Melanie said. “When he found out her lover’s nationality, he became enraged. It wasn’t enough to have Lydia punished for adultery. He had to throw in a charge of witchcraft, too. And to make matters worse, he forced his two young children to testify against their mother.”

  Gary pointed out the window. “So Lydia was dragged down to the beach and burned at the stake. Jacob Armand saw all of it but couldn’t do a thing. When his beloved Lydia died, he vowed to avenge her death.”

  “Wait a minute,” Derek said. “Why wasn’t he executed with her?”

  “Don’t forget he was putting a lot of money into the town with his protection fee,” Gary reminded him. “They were willing to forget his part in the ‘crime’ just to keep getting the money.”

  “Jacob himself died just a few months later,” Melanie said. “Literally of a broken heart. He carried his vow to avenge Lydia’s death to the grave.”

  “That was the end of him, then,” Derek said. “So why the history lesson?”

  Gary and Melanie exchanged glances.

  “It wasn’t the end of him,” Gary said in a low voice. “We bought this house last year without knowing his spirit still walked its grounds.”

  “Whoa!” Derek cried. “Hold on a minute. Spirit? As in haunted? You’re trying to tell me this place is haunted?”

  He was looking at them as if they were crazy, but Gary was undaunted.

  “Was haunted,” he corrected. “We drove Jacob Armand out last November. He had become attached to my wife and tried to kill the rest of us to have her.”

  Melanie took Gary’s hand and looked at him with sad eyes. Remembering the events that led to this story, she spoke in a soft, choked voice.

  “He saw me as his Lydia,” Melanie said. “And Gary and the children as the husband and children who led her to her death. In order to save me—Lydia—he first had to get rid of them. And he almost succeeded.”

  She shuddered and turned to put her head on Gary’s shoulder. Gary put his arms around her and kneaded the hair at the back of her neck.

  “On the night it ended,” he said, “he pushed me from a window upstairs.” He motioned toward his legs. “That’s why I’m like this.”

  “You said it was a prowler,” Derek said quietly, a little overwhelmed.

  “Would you have believed the truth?” Gary asked. “We hardly believe it ourselves. In fact, we promised each other not to talk about it ever again. But, considering Gina’s dream, we might have made a mistake. It was wrong to expect the children to forget that night.”

  “The bus accident made Gina remember what had happened,” Melanie put in. “And she was tormented as horribly as any of us that night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget—” She began to cry now. “Oh, God, Gary!”

  “Jacob Armand tried to murder my daughter on the beach,” Gary said. “In the same spot where Lydia had been executed. Fortunately, Melanie got to him in time to prevent him from taking another life.”

  There was silence for a while. Derek considered all this, wanting not to believe it, and yet unable to think of a reason why they would be telling him such a fantastic yarn. Were they hiding something behind the fantasy? A thought came into his head.

  “Those murders Alicen mentioned,” he said quietly. “They really happened, didn’t they? Is that what you meant by his taking another life?”

  “Yes,” Gary said. “In his pursuit of Melanie, he murdered three people. The first was an old woman named Helen Jennings, who used to own that house down the road. Then there was a young cop, Tony DiMagi. And last of all, Melanie’s best—”

  “Gary, please,” Melanie begged. “Don’t talk about her.”

  “It’s okay,” Derek said. “I know about your friend Janice. Gary told me the day you got so upset when I mentioned that name.”

  Melanie looked at him through tears. “He told you what happened to her?”

  “Not that Jacob Armand murdered her,” Derek said.

  “Well, he did,” Melanie answered. “He hit her across the head and killed her.”

  She said that in the tormented way of someone who wants the truth to be known. It was as if she were afraid he wouldn’t believe her. In truth, he wasn’t quite sure what to believe. His loyalty to Gary made him want to buy the story, and yet his own common sense told him it couldn’t be true. Ghosts! But Melanie looked so upset and Gary so solemn that he figured it was best to humor them right now.

  “So Gina was reliving that night?” he asked. “Just because of the bus accident? I know it was a horrible experience, but Gina seemed so calm at dinner tonight.”

  “Well, it was more than the accident,” Melanie said, sniffling back the last of her tears. “Bryan Davis—the police chief—came to talk to her tonight. He’d been here the night of Gary’s accident.”

  “Why did he come here at night?” Derek asked. “Didn’t he spend enough time questioning the kids at school? At least that’s the impression I got from talking to Alicen.”

  “Actually, your daughter was his reason for coming,” Gary said. “He said she’d been down at the station telling him she’d seen the driver jump from the bus.”

  “I don’t see how it was possible,” Melanie put in. “He said she was in his office at twelve-thirty, but I only left her here at noon. It takes longer than half an hour to get into town. So Bryan hinks she might have hitchhiked.”

  “Oh, brother,” Derek said, recalling the woman who had hidden in his car. What if Alicen had met with that evil woman named Janice? He shook the thought from his mind.

  “I find the fact that Alicen went at all even more unbelievable,” he said. “Funny she didn’t tell me about the driver. She didn’t seem to know anything at all.”

  “Maybe Bryan mistook her for another child,” Melanie said.

  “There isn’t anyone like Alicen,” Derek answered. He clapped his
hands together. “Well, if she did go, I’m glad. It just means she’s starting to come out of that shell of hers. It’s about time she started taking things into her own hands.”

  “Thirteen seems a little early to start taking things into your own hands,” Melanie said softly.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing, Derek,” Melanie said in a clearer voice. ‘I didn’t say a thing. Gary, finish the story for him.”

  “Just tell me how you finally got rid of your ghost,” Derek said, running a finger under his lip.

  “We weren’t the ones who did it,” Gary said. “It seems he’d been tormenting other families who had lived in this house. All their spirits came to fight him, and they sent him to hell. In the process Lydia herself showed up. Now that Jacob had her again, his spirit was put to rest.”

  “Where was Lydia before this?”

  “Waiting for him to come to her,” Melanie said. “Remember, in her day women would wait for months, even years, for their men to return from the sea. I—uh—suppose that in the afterlife, two hundred years is like six months.”

  “It sounds interesting,” Derek said.

  Gary eyed him. “But you don’t believe it.”

  “How can I!” Derek asked. “I hardly believe there’s a God, and I’m not quite sure there’s an afterlife. I never believed in supernatural powers, and I’m not about to start.”

  “Then you must think we’re a pair of fools,” Melanie said bitterly.

  “Not at all,” Derek said. “I’m sure you have your reasons for telling me this story. Hey, look, what do I know, right? Just because I don’t believe it doesn’t make it untrue.”

  He stood up. “I’m very tired. Sorry to run out on you, but I’d like to hit the sack.”

  “We didn’t lie to you,” Melanie said darkly.

  Derek didn’t answer her. He opened the door, then turned and said, “My daughter’s a hysterical type. Make sure she doesn’t hear about this, okay? Her nightmares are frequent enough.”

  With that, he was gone. Melanie stared at the closed door for a long time without speaking. And then she said, in a quiet voice, “You didn’t have to tell him about Janice.”

  “Honey, he was bound to find out,” Gary said. “Why let it bother you so much?”