Ghost House Revenge

by Clare McNally

  “At least he’s got you walking again,” Warren said. He turned to Judy. “Get the champagne out, okay? We’re going to have a party.”

  “You bought champagne?” Gary asked. Warren nodded, smiling. “And what about my appointments?”

  “I set the first one up for one o’clock, so we’d have time to talk. And you’re only getting one today. You don’t need to overburden yourself.”

  “Yes, doctor,” said Gary.

  Gary, Warren, and Judy shared champagne, joking together so joyfully that they barely heard the phone ringing over their laughter. Judy leaned over her desk to grab the phone. “Mr. VanBuren? Yes, he’s in. Hold on.”

  Gary looked at Warren. “I didn’t think anyone knew I was coming back today.”

  Warren shrugged his shoulders in response. Gary turned and went into his office. For a moment he stopped to admire it. It looked exactly as it had when he had left it last November. Even the calendar hadn’t been changed. He flipped through it to the right date and settled down in his leather chair. God, that felt good! It was wonderful to be back on familiar territory. Propping his crutches against the window behind him, he paused for a moment to look out at the city. Then he finally answered the phone.

  “Mr. VanBuren?” a voice asked. It was vaguely familiar.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Marc Kaufman,” the man said.

  Gary leaned back in his chair. “Oh, yes. How are you, mayor?”

  “Under the circumstances—” Marc began. Gary could hear him sigh. “Well, I should get right to the point. It’s about Sarah’s diamond ring. I don’t want to seem as if I’m making accusations, but it was missing from her hand when . . .”

  “The heirloom she was wearing that night?”

  “Yes,” said Marc. “Mr. VanBuren, I was wondering if you might have seen it? Perhaps she dropped it in your house.”

  “Did you call my wife?” Gary asked.

  “I tried,” said Marc. “No one answered the phone.”

  “Then she’s probably out shopping,” Gary said. “How about the people at the hospital? Or in the ambulance?”

  “I’ve talked to them,” Marc said. “And to the police. Please don’t think I’m saying anyone at your house took it. But it was the last place Sarah wore the ring.”

  Gary thought a moment, then said, “When I get home tonight, I promise I’ll have the whole family look for it. Come to think of it, we gave you two a tour of the house that day. It could be anywhere.”

  “I’d really appreciate it if you’d look,” Marc said.

  As soon as he hung up, Gary’s door opened. Into the room walked his partner, carrying a pile of folders. He dumped them on Gary’s desk and told him they were backlogged files that needed to be gone through.

  “Hey,” Gary said. “I thought you weren’t going to overburden me today?”

  “Admit it,” Warren said. “You love every minute of this.”

  Gary smiled crookedly and opened the top folder. At last he was back at work again.

  While Gary readjusted himself to the working world, Derek Miller waited outside Madame Martin’s Dance Studio for Liza to finish her class. He sat on a cushion-covered bench in the waiting room, looking at the pictures of a magazine written in French. He heard a French voice from behind a door.

  “Un et deux, un et deux,” it repeated over and over to the beat of the piano music. “Et c’est assez, mesdames. A demain!”

  Seconds later, the door opened, and a thin woman with hair pulled back in a bun came out. Derek looked past her at the small group of students and signaled to Liza. She waved and indicated the locker room. Derek went back to his seat and waited.

  Liza came out at last and in front of several other dance students, threw her arms around him and kissed him.

  “That’s the kind of greeting I like,” Derek said.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  “Not really,” Derek answered. “But I’m ready for lunch if you are.”

  “I’m famished!” Liza cried, patting her flat stomach. “And I know a terrific Chinese restaurant.”

  It was only three blocks away, but Derek insisted upon carrying Liza’s case. It wasn’t heavy at all, and Liza was a little embarrassed when a few classmates saw her handing it to him. But Derek wasn’t worried about their opinion.

  “Women shouldn’t have to burden themselves,” he said.

  “You’re such a chauvinist,” Liza teased, “but I guess I love you, anyway.” At the restaurant Liza opened the door before Derek could get to it.

  The restaurant was crowded, but recognizing Liza, the maitre d’ led them quickly to a table. In silence Derek and Liza ran over the menu, then placed their orders. When the waiter left, Liza folded her hands together and leaned forward.

  “How’s your daughter?” she asked. “You told me about the accident over the phone but no details. Did it upset her very much?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Derek admitted. “I took her out to dinner that day, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Alicen has a habit of clamming up like that.”

  “I can’t blame her,” Liza said. “I saw the picture in the paper. What a horrible mess!”

  “Thank God none of the children were seriously hurt,” Derek said. “But that poor teacher . . .”

  Alicen’s words came back to him: I’m glad he died. I hate him!

  Derek shook his head roughly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Derek said. “Dwight Percy was Alicen’s teacher. I understand, though, that they weren’t too fond of each other. Alicen has a tendency to daydream, and Percy was a no-nonsense type.”

  Liza laughed, a bell-like sound that relaxed Derek at once.

  “Oh, I used to daydream all the time,” she said. “I used to pretend I was a prima ballerina when I was supposed to be doing equations. I think all girls go through a time like that. How old did you say Alicen was?”

  “Thirteen,” Derek said. “And I don’t think this is a passing phase. She’s been having these dreams for six years.” He lifted his fork and dropped it. “Ever since Elaine died.”

  “Oh . . .”

  Looking up at Liza, Derek realized his mistake.

  “Oh, hey, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “You’re just upset because of the accident,” Liza said. “I understand.”

  “I don’t want to spoil our lunch,” Derek replied. “Let me think of something better to talk about. Do you like ghost stories?”

  “Sure,” Liza said.

  “Then listen to this one,” Derek answered. “You’ll love it.”

  He proceeded to relate the story of the VanBuren hauntings. Liza listened intently, her almond eyes as bright as a child’s. When Derek finished, she stabbed a shrimp on her plate with a fork and said, “That’s interesting, but a little unbelieveable, don’t you think? I mean, haunted houses?”

  “I don’t believe it,” Derek said, “and yet I don’t disbelieve that something went on in that house last year. I think the VanBurens made up that story to push the truth from their minds. But one thing that is true is the fact that three people died at the house. One of them was a young woman named Janice. She was Melanie’s best friend, and needless to say, my patient’s wife gets rather upset at the mention of her name.”

  “The poor thing,” Liza said. “It must have been a horrible experience for her.”

  “Melanie tends to get emotional about it,” Derek said. “But who can blame her?”

  Liza ate a few bites of food, then said, “I’d sure like to see that house. I’ll bet it’s eerie.”

  “You wouldn’t be disappointed,” Derek answered. “But the VanBurens do keep the cobwebs swept.”

  Liza laughed. “Do you suppose I could come there one night?” she asked. “I mean, after giving Alicen time to adjust after the accident? I think meeting her father’s new girlfriend would be too much for her r
ight now.”

  “You missed your calling,” Derek said. “You should have been a child psychologist.”

  “I worked with one for eight years,” Liza said. “That’s how I saved money to come to New York.”

  Derek lifted her hand and kissed it. “You’re a very kind woman,” he said.

  “I was just thinking about Alicen.”

  “Shh,” Derek said. “Enough about Alicen. You’ll meet her soon, I promise.”

  Making his nightly rounds of the bay area, Harold Kent, a security guard for one of Belle Bay’s prestigious private communities, drove his dune buggy along the water line. His headlights danced off the little ripples made by the wind, competing with the golden reflections of the moon. The bay was so peaceful at this hour, just before dawn. Harold began to whistle.

  But something caught his eye, an interruption in the golden ripples of the bay that made him stop whistling. He stopped his truck and went to investigate.

  It was a woman’s body. Harold bent closer to it, waving his flashlight over the wet, sand-covered flesh. In the moonlight the bloated face seemed to be grinning with evil pleasure. Blond hair was braided with seaweed. Some of it had wrapped around the woman’s throat.

  Harold rushed back to his truck and drove up to the guard house. There, he phoned his discovery into the Belle Bay police. Within two hours the body, named Jane Doe for lack of identification, was taken to the Belle Bay funeral home for storage. There it would wait until someone came to identify it.

  14

  “As soon as you kids are through with your homework,” Gary said at dinner that night, “come downstairs. I have a chore for you.”

  “What is it, dad?” Kyle asked.

  “Well, Mayor Kaufman gave me a call today,” Gary explained. “It seems Sarah lost that big diamond ring of hers, and he wondered if it might be in this house somewhere. So we’re going to look for it.”

  “Gary, I’ve cleaned this house since then,” Melanie said, serving beets to a grimacing Nancy. “I didn’t see it.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to look,” Gary said.

  “Alicen and I will help you,” Derek said.

  Alicen, picking listlessly at her food, didn’t hear her father say that. She was thinking of the old house down the road. Jamie hadn’t mentioned a word of what had happened in school the next day. And true to her promise, Alicen had kept her own mouth shut. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d say, anyway. That she had seen a ghost that turned out to be a curtain? Having had time to decide the whole scene just had to be her imagination, she felt as silly now as Jamie had. Still, she wished her mother were there. Her mother would make her feel better about all the crazy things that had been happening.

  Her head felt funny tonight, the way it had just before the bus accident. She stabbed a beet and saw red juice flow over her plate like blood.

  “Nancy!” Gina cried then. “Stop feeding beets to Lad!”

  “Yeah, little girl.” Gary said. “You eat those. They’re good.”

  “Alicen isn’t eating hers,” Nancy said, pouting.

  Melanie looked across the table at her young house guest. She frowned to see Alicen staring dully at her plate, pushing her food around. The fork looked ready to drop from her fingers.

  “Are you all right, Alicen?”

  No answer.

  “Alicen!” Derek shouted.

  She jumped. “Huh?”

  “Mrs. VanBuren asked if you’re all right,” Derek said, studying her face.

  “I’m just real tired,” Alicen said. “Can I go to my room?”

  “Eat first,” Derek insisted. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “Please?”

  “Alicen, just eat dinner,” Derek snapped.

  Alicen obeyed him. She ate as quickly as possible without making herself obvious, wanting only to get upstairs. She had heard a voice in her head, a voice calling her to her room. When at last her plate was empty, she excused herself and all but ran from the dining room.

  “I’ll never understand that kid,” Derek said, looking over his shoulder.

  “You don’t try very hard,” Melanie mumbled.

  Derek ignored the remark.

  Upstairs, Alicen sat down at her desk and waited. Her head was light as a cloud now, her ears deaf to the noises around her. Only her mind listened, waiting for the voice that would mean her mother had come once more to talk with her. The conscious Alicen was suppressed now, and she waited in a trance.

  “Alicen,” she heard.

  “I’m here, mommy. Why did you wait so long to talk to me, mommy?”

  “Selfish brat!” the apparition hissed. “Do you think I have nothing better to do than talk with you?”

  “Mommy, please don’t be mad,” Alicen begged. She squinted at the cloud of smoke, shaped like a human body one moment, then unidentifiable the next, and tried to see her mother’s features.

  “Tell me of the man Davis,” she heard.

  “He came back to school a couple of times,” Alicen reported. “I told him about the driver jumping from the bus, like you wanted. But he didn’t believe me ’cause none of the other kids said they saw it.” Alicen looked down at her hands. “They didn’t find a body.”

  “If they want a body,” the vision said, “I will give them one. Then they’ll be satisfied. But you must help me. You’ll know what to do.”

  There was a deep silence for a few moments. Alicen felt something cold press against her forehead, but she didn’t move away from its stinging touch. Then the vision spoke again.

  “You will know what to do. Succeed, and I will give you this.”

  Alicen saw the diamond ring floating before her. She reached for it, taking it in her hands. It glowed in an almost unnatural way, as if possessed by the very soul of the apparition. Alicen gazed into it.

  Someone knocked at the door. “Alicen?”

  The girl turned around at the sound of her father’s voice, the spell that held her breaking. She became her own person in a split second, in the same time that the cloud of smoke disappeared and left her holding the ring. Momentarily confused, Alicen didn’t think to hide it when her father opened her door.

  “Are you okay?” Derek asked. “I want you to come downstairs and help look for the—”

  Alicen realized that her father had seen the ring. Not knowing how she’d come to have it and afraid her father would think she’d stolen it, she dropped the ring in the pocket of the cardigan that hung over the back of the desk chair. Derek waited for his daughter to tell him about the ring, but she said nothing.

  “I was just putting on a sweater,” she said quietly, standing. “It’s cold in this house.”

  “I was rather warm myself,” Derek said. He debated whether or not to take the ring forcefully but decided against it. Why create a scene in front of the VanBurens?

  “Get busy looking for that ring,” he said. “It’s very important that we find it.”

  He left the room and went to the staircase, pretending to look for it. As he poked around the carpeting, knowing there was nothing to be found, Derek tried to understand what he had just seen. Jesus, he thought, my daughter’s a klepto! How’d she get the ring? And what the hell am I going to tell the VanBurens?

  “Nothing,” he said out loud. With three kids of their own, they wouldn’t want a little thief around. They would call her a bad influence and kick her out—and him with her.

  He sank down on the step and punched one of the balusters. “Damn you, Alicen,” he whispered. “I’ve waited too long for a job like this to have you ruin it for me.”

  He’d have to get the ring from her and plant it somewhere in the house where Sarah could have dropped it.

  Hearing soft steps on the carpeting behind him, he turned to see Alicen coming down the stairs. She barely glanced at him when she said, ‘I’m going to look in the dining room.”

  Derek said nothing. He clutched hard at the baluster, resisting an urge to grab and shake her. When she dis
appeared into the dining room, he got up and hurried back to her room.

  It looked so innocent, with its yellow curtains and white furniture. Derek went first to the desk, pulling open all the drawers. He found stationery, pencils, and a roll of tape, but no ring. Next he went to the bed and pulled back the yellow coverlet. The ring wasn’t under the pillow, nor was it between the mattress and box spring. And it wasn’t anywhere else in the room.

  “She’s still got it in her pocket,” he guessed. He left the room and walked down the hall, meeting Melanie.

  “Is Alicen still in the dining room?”

  “I sent her to help Gina look in the living room,” Melanie replied. “Honestly, I don’t think any of us will find that ring. One of those hospital people probably took it.”

  “It—uh—doesn’t hurt to check,” Derek said, moving down the stairs.

  He stood in the doorway of the living room for a few minutes, wondering how he could get the ring from his daughter. He couldn’t tell her to give it to him—not with Gina standing right there. He watched Alicen make a big production of the search, masking her guilt. She poked around the fireplace, looking like such a little girl in front of the huge structure that Derek momentarily forgot his anger. Could he have made a mistake? Maybe he hadn’t seen the ring at all but had imagined it. Alicen had never stolen anything in her life!

  Still, he had to be certain. He walked into the room and reached to touch the pocket of her sweater, in a gesture that would appear to be an embrace. Alicen jumped away from him.

  “Dad!” she cried. “You startled me!”

  “Me, too,” Gina said. “I didn’t hear you come into the room.”

  “I walk softly,” Derek said.

  His smile was a false one—he had felt the ring. Nervously, his daughter had resumed her search, moving to the window seat. She would not look her father in the eye. Derek saw that her hands were trembling. That was good. Let her suffer a little. He’d get the ring tonight.

  By midnight, Derek decided it was safe to enter Alicen’s room. To be certain, he listened carefully at her door until he heard her even breathing. Then he pushed it open and groped his way inside. His hands touched the sweater, hanging on the desk chair again, but found that the pockets were empty. Holding his breath, he carefully searched the desk. When it came to nothing, he turned and crept to the bed.