Haunted House Ghost: Death At The Fall Festival (Braxton Campus Mysteries Book 5)

by James J Cudney

  “I assume we have to stay behind this yellow caution tape, huh?” I struggled to determine the exact next steps once the building plunged to the ground and left a bunch of rubble in its place.

  “Once they implode the old wing, it'll take some time for the dust and debris to settle. Then, the inspector will ensure the ground is stable. A few of us can get closer to take pictures of what's left of the old building… you know… for the history books.” Maggie beamed, knowing that her vision to build the library of her dreams had come true. Well, at least over the next few years it would occur. In this phase they'd reuse the land under the original, historic two-story schoolhouse to build the first wing of the new library. They'd chosen implosion as the initial method for clearing the old structure because of its underlying materials. Also, its location was too close to the other buildings and lacked proper space for massive construction vehicles.

  We watched the countdown on a nearby clock and listened to the small crowd shout, “Three, two, one….” Then, Maggie pressed the lever, and it felt like the earth shook all around us. While it wasn't huge in terms of what it must be like to raze an entire city skyscraper, it generated a loud boom and created a thick, cloudy sky. Luckily, we'd worn large glasses to cover our eyes and masks over our mouths and noses to breathe more easily.

  After the structure's successful disintegration, a small crane and wrecking ball knocked down two walls that hadn't entirely collapsed. They'd only used a tiny amount of dynamite to bust through the appropriate levels and that specific section of the building. Once the dust settled, a clear view into the ground under the original two-room schoolhouse area was visible. The crew declared the zone stable and called Maggie and me to the far side, where we could see directly into the shadowy sub-level.

  Maggie snapped her first photo, then asked me to take one of her as she navigated near the edge of the hole that had been blown out. A construction worker stood by to ensure she didn't slip. Once confirming she securely held on to a pole, Maggie smiled for the picture.

  When I moved closer, I peered deeper into the pit. My stomach plummeted, forcing an immediate scream to erupt from my throat. “Hold up, hold up. No, no, no. It can't be.”

  Maggie gulped and reached for my arm. “What's wrong? Is something breaking or rickety?”

  I pointed at my shocking discovery and implored the construction worker to check it out.

  “Ay! I see it too,” he yelled, waving his hands and signing the cross against his lips.

  Another crew member redirected a spotlight directly into the creepy hole in the ground. Maggie leaned forward, releasing a guttural screech. I yanked her backward and clutched my gut, uncertain if I'd hold the contents of lunch inside its unstable walls.

  Embedded twelve feet under the surface in a red clay-like material was a skeleton whose lower bones were partially trapped, but whose upper half was entirely visible. Though dirt speckled its skull, the grisly image of something long dead stared back at us. It looked human, but given Halloween was approaching, someone could've planned an elaborate hoax. Then again, Braxton's had more than its fair share of crime this year. Ultimately, common sense reminded me dead bodies or skeletons didn't arbitrarily show up frequently. This wasn't a practical joke. We were never meant to find the skeleton.

  “Call security immediately. I think we've just found another dead body in the library.”

  Chapter 4

  Campus security contacted the Wharton County Sheriff's Office, and several architects and a local forensic expert were on their way. Despite the library shutting down for the original implosion, Maggie obtained permission to wait in her office away from the spectacle. “Where did it come from?” Maggie agonized, retrieving a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

  “I have no idea. It's got to be from decades ago, right?” No flesh appeared on the actual bones, and since the skeleton was still intact, nothing had accessed or moved it. I'd barely glanced at the macabre setting for ten seconds before forcing myself from the temporary stupor to drag away Maggie.

  We chatted about our confusion and alarm over whom the skeleton could belong to and why these things kept happening, to me, in particular. Months earlier, it had been Maggie's sister and me who'd found a professor stabbed in the library courtyard. In addition, I'd found a body at the bottom of the Diamond Hall steps, on the Grey Sports Complex terrace, and in the campus cable car. Someone had also keeled onto me from a purposeful drug overdose in the college's theater. I truly was The Unlikely Death Locator. April would murder me. I'd be the next victim. There was no viable way out of this situation other than to escape like Prudence Grey and haunt my own house. As soon as her name popped into my head, my eyes bulged. Perhaps she'd never run away and had tragically died in the library fire. Had we finally discovered Hiram's missing first wife?

  The campus bell tower chimed, alerting me to meet my parents and daughter at St. Mary's, the local Catholic church. Father Elijah O'Malley had scheduled thirty minutes to discuss Emma's impending First Communion. While I wasn't in the right frame of mind to attend the meeting, and I felt awful leaving Maggie, it was too late to cancel. My father had offered to pick up Emma from school on his way to the church, and my mother was meeting us there given she worked on campus at Admissions Hall. Ulan was with Augie working on a school project for the afternoon.

  “I'll check in with you after I'm done.” I hugged Maggie tightly, then kissed her frozen cheek.

  Maggie located her cell phone and promised to find someone who could sit with her until the initial investigation and decision about the construction project's next steps were finalized. The ten-minute walk did nothing to relax my body after what I'd just witnessed. St. Mary's bordered the southern tip of Cambridge Lawn, the college's relaxation area filled with colorful flowerbeds, thick blades of bright green grass, and moss-covered stone walkways. Scarecrows were tied to all the lampposts. I was a few minutes early to meet with Father Elijah, who was hearing confessions inside the nave of the solemn church. I offered a prayer for the soul whose skeleton we'd found.

  Minnie O'Malley, a shy and petite woman with tight gray curls, exited the confessional and kneeled in a pew. The former head librarian, who'd held the job before Maggie, was now a volunteer at St. Mary's. I knew extraordinarily little about her life outside Braxton, only the handful of events Maggie had shared years ago when the two women briefly worked together. As the seventy-something birdlike lady prayed, Bartleby stepped inside to speak with Father Elijah. I'd grown curious why Bartleby picked this time to attend a confession at the church. Hadn't he just witnessed the demolition at the library? Once finishing her atonement, Minnie approached. “Good evening, Kellan. How are you?”

  “I'm a bit off-kilter, but it'll pass. We're meeting Father Elijah to plan religious education classes for my daughter.” When our voices echoed in the domed apse containing the altar, I motioned for Minnie to join me in the vestibule. Her exceedingly proper attire reminded me of her devout faith.

  “I look forward to teaching her. Elijah should finish soon with the last parishioner.”

  “Father Elijah is your brother-in-law, right?”

  “Yes, we go way back before he was a priest. Few people left from that time.” She'd been married to Father Elijah's brother, before his death many years ago had left her a widow.

  My parents and Emma arrived at St. Mary's with Nana D's freshly baked pies in hand. We all chatted for a few minutes while Father Elijah finished parishioner confessions. I couldn't shed the distress of finding another body. Upon informing us to reenter the church, we moved to the first pew to discuss Emma's next steps. A half-hour later, Emma was inordinately curious to study the Bible and enroll in the classes. I still felt as though a monster truck had driven me off the road and into a ditch.

  Father Elijah, a seventy-something Irishman, had a full head of thick gray hair, a light complexion and round, noticeable features. His bulbous nose and sunken eyes gave away his age, but he was as strong as an ox from walk
ing several miles every morning regardless of the weather. “It's comforting to know the next generation of the Ayrwick and Danby families are keen on remaining part of the church. I'm grateful to serve such solid members of our community. I know Seraphina prefers to attend Mass on Saturday evening, but your smiling faces every Sunday morning mean the world to us at St. Mary's.”

  “We're glad to be here, Father Elijah,” I began, still unable to shake off what I'd seen at the Memorial Library demolition site. I'd controlled it during our conversation but had hit my limit.

  My father noticed my apprehension and leaned closer to me. “What's wrong? You were antsy the whole time we talked about Emma's classes. Now, you look like you've seen a ghost.”

  “I'm sorry. They…” I paused, uncertain how to divulge the news. I wasn't even sure I should. “Something happened earlier at Memorial Library.” For some reason, despite finding several other dead bodies, stumbling upon a skeleton caused a more sickening reaction inside my body.

  “Construction began today, didn't it?” my mother inquired, absentmindedly twisting a ring.

  Father Elijah hesitantly agreed. “That's right. They demolished part of the building to make way for a grander, more modern space. We heard the loud boom this afternoon.”

  “I have a feeling construction might take longer than they expected,” I suggested acerbically.

  My mother fussed with my hair, unhappy with the location of its part. “Did something happen?”

  “You could say that,” I began, recalling the shocking event. “After knocking down the building, they cleared one area to show everyone how deep into the ground it'd been anchored.”

  “Hiram Grey's parents donated the money to repair the building after the 1968 fire consumed part of the structure,” my father explained, preventing Emma from wandering away while we chatted.

  “Once the floating debris and dust dissipated, we found… something else,” I reluctantly added, shivering at the morbid images replaying in my mind like a horror movie.

  “What was it, Kellan? You look frightfully unwell, almost peaked.” Satisfied with my hair, my mother now attended to the angle of my wool cardigan's wide collar.

  “A skeleton. There was a human skeleton trapped in the rubble. Someone might've died in that fire.” I swallowed deeply, overwhelmed by the smell of incense, and heard a throaty shriek to my left.

  Father Elijah slumped forward and attempted to lean on the curved mahogany pew. “Prudence. They finally found dear Prue.” Before I could reach him, our parish priest's eyes rolled upward, and he careened onto the cold, pristine marble floor with a heavy thud.

  I bent to check on him. Minnie rushed to the rectory in search of a cool cloth and something for him to drink. “He'll be okay,” Minnie soothed upon her return, handing Father Elijah a paper cup with water. “He's been working too often, that's all.” She haphazardly shared a rough outline of his weekly schedule, an impossible feat for someone with my strength and caliber.

  “Thank you, Min,” he shuddered, covering her spotted hand with his shaky one. “You've taken care of me for over fifty years.” Father Elijah dabbed a handkerchief across his brow, acknowledging his sister-in-law's graciousness before pulling himself to his feet. “I'm fine now. Dr. Betscha warned me about all the fatty foods I consume. I should pay more attention to my cholesterol levels.”

  Minnie assured us she'd accompany Elijah, as she continued to refer to our parish priest, to his quarters to rest until evening Mass. “Kellan, I'll call you tomorrow to coordinate Emma's classes. Since I'm her catechism teacher, I can fill you in on all the details.”

  Once they stepped away, my mother patted her chest and leaned against my father. “Oh, that poor man. He seemed beyond astonished at the news. Do you genuinely believe it's a human skeleton?”

  “I made the forensic team confirm twice.” I checked the pew behind us to ensure Emma still quietly read a book on her Kindle. After we'd lifted Father Elijah off the floor and confirmed he hadn't suffered a heart attack, I'd found something in Emma's backpack to distract her.

  “He mentioned Prudence Grey, didn't he?” My father pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling the extent of the whole conversation as he gazed at the church's shimmering stained glass windows. “I suppose the skeleton could belong to her. She was last seen in the library on that tragic Halloween day.”

  “Mom mentioned you were on campus.” A pipe organist played in the church's upper platform.

  “Yes. Prudence Grey was a beautiful woman,” my father imparted, glancing at my mother. “Not as stunning as my Violet, but I'd have recognized her anywhere with that jet-black hair and those eyes… one grey, the other a sky blue. She angrily raced into the library, intent on something that afternoon.” Dad explained how he'd started high school that year and ostensibly met friends to go trick-or-treating that afternoon. They'd really snuck onto Braxton campus, despite fervent warnings from his parents not to get into any trouble. The intensity of the Vietnam War protests erupting near the library had mesmerized him, and he hid out with his pals behind a tree to watch everyone chanting and shouting.

  “Were you friendly with her?” I probed, curious why this story had never come up previously. Then, I recalled Lara feeling frightened by a potential ghost who had two different colored eyes.

  When the organist played a sharp note, my mother's face turned a telltale shade of red. “He'd met Prudence that summer at the soda shop. Your father carried a secret infatuation for the girl.”

  “Oh, Violet, don't be jealous,” he softly teased, ambling toward the vestibule. “It's no longer there, but I used to get a milkshake in a wonderful downtown shop after school most days. The place was a classic throwback to the past. They had the most amazing chocolate egg creams. I'd been sitting at the counter one day when Prudence strolled in with her new baby, Damien.”

  My father disclosed the story of his first crush. Damien had been screaming and crying nonstop. Prudence must've forgotten her purse. After ordering a soda, she couldn't pay for it. He'd found a few extra coins in his pocket and handed them to the cashier. Prudence had kissed his cheek and exclaimed that he was her guardian angel. He always remembered her innocent smile and how awkwardly she'd fussed over her son in the baby carriage. My father had run into her twice that fall, but when he'd seen her a third time on campus at Halloween, she appeared more distraught than usual.

  “Can you confirm whether she left the library?” I assumed he would've told the police once he'd learned she'd gone missing.

  “No, I couldn't stick around when the fire spread. My friends didn't want to get caught, and I was certain my dad would flog me. We ran down the street to our neighborhood and stopped at the nearest house to beg for candy to fill our plastic orange pumpkins.” My father shoved both hands in his pockets, propping himself against a three-story stone pillar. Church bells signaled the top of the hour.

  “If Prudence died in the fire, many people will owe Hiram Grey an apology for suspecting he killed her or forced her to leave town.” My mother wrapped her arms around my father and kissed his cheek. “We should get going, Wesley. We're meeting Hampton and Natasha for dinner tonight.”

  Once my parents left, I interrupted Emma so we could head home. Maggie had left a text message suggesting I should wait until the following day to visit. She and Ursula, the school's president, would be stuck in meetings with the sheriff's office for a few hours. Connor was also on-site dealing with the press, who wanted to snap photos for the morning papers and newscasts. I pictured Lara Bouvier shoving a microphone in Maggie's face, hoping to scoop the competition. Quite the circus!

  When we arrived home, Ulan offered to walk Baxter, escaping as soon as dinner ended. While he was out, I checked the hall closet where he'd been storing his clothes and personal items. Given the size of the cottage and lack of space for three people, we were quite cramped. He'd slept on a cot in Emma's bedroom the last two months and been allocated a few shelves to use however he saw fit. I felt
awful for invading his privacy, but he was hiding something from me.

  Other than several days of laundry, a half-eaten sandwich beginning to mold, and a pack of cards with scantily clad women, nothing stood out. I'd make it a priority to teach him how to launder his own clothes. He'd also get a warning about leaving out food, distinctly because of all the farm animals and insects crawling around Danby Landing. As for the cards, I was torn. At fifteen, he was experiencing a lot of changes in his body. Uncle Zach had promised me they'd covered the talk, and we'd agreed to limit Ulan's Internet access. I would ask April how she'd handled it with Augie, before confronting my young cousin about his naughty keepsake.

  Striding backward, I tripped over a pair of his sneakers and fell against the doorjamb. When I leaned down to pick them up, I saw red stains on the rubber heels of both shoes. It was the same red paint I'd found on the basement door and used on Ulan's new bedroom's walls. He hadn't helped the day I finished his room, as he'd gone with Augie and Emma to the park to watch a football game, then slept at Nana D's. Had he stepped in the paint when he wrote the threatening message?

  The front door swung open. I speedily threw the shoes back in the closet. “You're back early.”

  Ulan cocked his head and squinted. “Forgot the dog bags. Were you looking for something—”

  “Emma lost her orange scarf with the black cats. I thought she tossed it in there when we were cleaning yesterday,” I mumbled hesitantly, then gently squeezed his neck. “I'm glad you're living with us, Ulan. It's nice to have another guy in the house. Nana D, Eleanor, and my mother outnumbered me.” Gabriel had spent all his free time with Sam before his boyfriend left town. Also, my father's retirement was going so well, we saw him less now than we had when he'd been Braxton's previous president.