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

by James J Cudney

  While containing my palpitations and shifting around the corner to a dimly lit path, a bony hand abruptly grasped my forearm from behind the edge of the densely packed cornstalks. The powerful clasp encapsulated my entire arm in sheets of ice, reminding me of my dream about the unrelenting villain in the cemetery. With an orotund voice, the assailant commanded, “You must be silent.”

  I feared someone was about to attack me and struggled to get away. As I catapulted forward to confront my pursuer, pawing aggressively at the cornstalks with my free arm, a woman in a tall headdress swayed back and forth like a rocking chair. Was Madam Zenya communicating with some ghost or spirit that had assumed control of her body? I opened my mouth to object, but she gripped more tightly and whispered the word silence. Could Madam Zenya be my inexorable stalker?

  “A man from your past wants you to know that he's proud of you. He's showing me a picture of a footstool and a magazine… no, no… it's a book.” Madam Zenya inhaled and exhaled several times, emitting a low hum from deep within her throat. While a coyote howled in the nearby Saddlebrooke National Forest, an unforgiving chill settled in the surrounding air. “You built it with him. He taught you how paper was made. He showed you the connection among all the things you love.” The words emptied from her lips in a slow, rhythmic tone, as if she retold a story to me as she was hearing it from someone else. Her body trembled uncontrollably, as though she'd lost the battle to fight off the spirit.

  “What book is it?” The message she conveyed had been a turning point in my teenage years—one I'd told no one else about, not even Eleanor. Dark clouds suddenly released a cold, paralyzing rain.

  “It's a mystery about The Hardy Boys. The Tower Treasure. You wanted to read it, and he made you chop down a tree on the farm one sunny afternoon.” Madam Zenya snapped her head against the wet cornstalks, tugging at my body as if it were holding her from falling off a mountain. “Kellan, we will make a footstool out of this tree. When it is complete, I want you to write down everything I taught you and turn it into a book. Just like these mysteries you love. Some day you will be famous, but you will always remember your roots.” A strike of lightning zapped the shadowy, unsteady ground near us.

  I gasped. Only Grandpop Michael and I knew about that conversation. He'd wanted me to be more accomplished and knowledgeable about everything a man should be capable of doing. He taught me how to make furniture, treat a woman, and care for the farm. He was my idol, and when he'd passed away, part of me disappeared. I loved and respected my father, but he was always fonder of my older brother, Hampton. Grandpop Michael had been the one to mentor and teach me.

  The frigid rain sent chills down my spine. “I don't know how you did that, but if you can—”

  Madam Zenya's body shuddered. She released my arm. “There's someone coming. I must leave at once. You are in grave danger. We have much to discuss regarding the house you've bought.”

  Madam Zenya slipped away into the darkness. My heartbeat slowed, and the rain stopped. If the woman could communicate with the dead, and she claimed that I was in grave danger regarding the new house, then she must know something about its history. I'd have to track her down the following day during one of her sessions. I couldn't afford to wait until she found me again. Then, I began wondering who she'd seen hiding amongst the stalks? Was it the same person harassing me? I tiptoed around the corner in search of the creep, noticing Lloyd and his apprentice huddling near the coffin.

  The apprentice rushed off before I could confront him, promising to get started on the next set of horse-drawn carriage hayrides. Lloyd turned to me. “Kellan, I'm glad we ran into one another. Thank you for keeping Minnie company. She told me you've been helpful.”

  “I guess they released you from prison. How are you holding up?” It shocked me to run into the man, in the maze of all places. I was unsure of the current state of affairs but thrilled to get answers.

  “Yes. I'm sorry I left the haunted hayrides unmanaged this morning. By the time they cleared me of all charges, I needed to clean-up and see Minnie before I came to work today. My apprentice did his best, but I'll get everything sorted out this evening.” Lloyd had aged several years since I'd run into him at The Big Beanery the morning of Lara's newscast about the skeleton being discovered.

  “Thank you. We're glad to have you back.” How much should I trust the man?

  Lloyd explained that the Wharton County Sheriff's Office had temporarily released him but that he'd been told he was still integral to the investigation. “They don't have any evidence that I killed Ian O'Malley, but they believe I know something.”

  “Do you?” Bluntness felt like the only way to handle the situation.

  Lloyd shook his head, then traipsed back to the beginning of the spooky corn maze. “I know how it looks. I would understand if you don't want me to work at the Fall Festival anymore.”

  He had us caught without a proper backup, so I couldn't fire him. Plus, Nana D believed the man was innocent. “You didn't answer my questions, Lloyd.”

  “I have no explanation for why Ian showed up. I didn't kill him, and I already explained why I locked Prudence in the library. I will feel guilty about it for the rest of my life. My guess is she's buried somewhere else beneath the rubble.” Lost in thought, Lloyd grunted and kicked around a few pieces of loose straw as kids raced by us in the spooky corn maze. “That was an awful fire. I didn't release her, so I can't be sure what happened. She couldn't have survived. It's sad, but that's the truth, Kellan.”

  Connor had told me they were planning to excavate further and had put the library's renovations on hold until they could find out why and how Ian had gotten into the building. It made little sense, and Lloyd offered no viable help.

  “If you say you are innocent, I believe you. Keep focused on training your apprentice and help us get through the next two weeks. We'll figure it out from there. Fair?”

  “If I think of anything else, I will share it with you. Minnie mentioned you're helping to seek the truth.” Lloyd took off his hat and lowered his head, likely ashamed for what he'd done in the past. He was an honest man who'd made a mistake but was hopefully not a killer.

  “That's probably best. Does anyone else know what you've told the police?” I wasn't sure whom he'd been talking to about his role in the past events.

  “Nope. Once I was locked up, I refused any visitors or an attorney. They forced me to talk to one of the county lawyers. I made him promise not to tell anyone about our conversation either. I've hurt my friends and family enough.” Lloyd thanked me for understanding and supporting him, then took off to check on the haunted hayrides.

  Something was bothering me about the details he provided. I couldn't be sure if he knew something and was purposely leaving out key facts, or if he hadn't realized something that he'd seen was important. I'd have to follow up with him, Madam Zenya, and Bartleby again.

  When everyone returned from the restroom, we left the autumn spectacular. My parents met friends for cocktails, and the kids and I walked to the farmhouse to ensure Nana D dropped anchor safely. By the time the blood moon rose high, we'd experienced a thrilling and successful opening for the Fall Festival. It was time to relax. When April arrived at the cottage, Augie, Ulan, and Emma were toasting s'mores near a small bonfire I'd built in the backyard. I saw the headlights of her motorcycle approaching in the distance and snuck to the front of the cottage while the kids were busy telling gory ghost stories. I didn't have the heart to warn Augie and Ulan—Emma had the scariest ones of all, even at only seven years old. Just listening to her made me relive Madam Zenya's chilling warning.

  April parked in the driveway, removed her helmet, and idled up the front walkway. She was still dressed in her traditional working outfit: a pair of jeans, boots, and an unflattering tweed coat. We'd suffered through a few conversations about how it was comfortable yet professional for Wharton County. I often teased her about her taste but had found it more attractive lately.

  When she re
ached the steps, I held out both of my hands, which I'd balled up into fists. “One has a delicious treat. The other is a surprise. You choose.” I'd swiped some banana saltwater taffy from the dessert counter at the Fall Festival, knowing it was April's favorite sweet.

  “This better not be some joke. Are both hands empty?” She pushed one side of her jacket off her hips, revealing Old Betsy, her preferred choice for protection and warning suspects not to mess with her. “I have a solution if that's the case.”

  “Come on. Don't you trust me? Or are you too scared to hold my hand?” I stood silently, staring intently until she decided.

  Her eyes never left mine. A minute passed before she blinked, almost shivering with intensity. “That's unfair. You can't look at me with those lethally gorgeous blue eyes and expect me to hold out.”

  I knew I was winning her over. Relationships weren't about who had control. I wholly recognized they were more of a compromise, a shared understanding of give and take. We hadn't officially gone on a real date, other than that family wedding, but I had taken an early lead. All I needed to do was scan her up and down, willing myself not to lose the connection, and she'd waver before my eyes. Someday, the tables would be reversed. I accepted it. It felt comforting to at least come out on top on the rare occasion I could. Normally, I would back down whenever push came to shove in a disagreement between us. After all, she was the sheriff, and I was involving myself in her criminal investigations.

  “I'll make you a deal. If you choose the wrong one, I'll give you anything you want tonight.” I might've opened myself up too broadly, but there were a few things working to my advantage that evening. The kids were around, she was too tired to fight me, and I'd filled both fists full of taffy.

  April stepped forward, placing her hand on one of mine. As she playfully twisted and trapped it behind my back, I transferred the taffy to my free hand. Then, she grabbed the one holding the taffy and pulled my two arms closer together. April whispered in my ear, “If you want to play games with me, we ought not to stand in front of your cottage where impressionable minds remain close by.”

  Once April loosened her grip, I took advantage of her unexpected generosity and turned the tables on her. Ten seconds later, she was trapped in my arms, unable to escape. “Trust me. You'll know when I want to play games, April.” I clutched the back of her neck with my free hand and guided our heads closer, where I gently kissed and nibbled on her bottom lip. “I might seem a little goofy or innocent on the outside, but you haven't gotten to know every part of me yet.”

  Before things escalated too far, we separated, and I showed April that she would've won with either choice. I opened my hand and tempted her with a treat, then we meandered into the kitchen to pour much-deserved wine. She needed something to relax, and I needed something to cool down.

  “Anything happen at work today that you want to talk about, dear?” I offered April a glass of Pinot Noir and sat at the kitchen table. “Perhaps Lloyd Nickels knew the purpose of Ian O'Malley's visit to the library? Or you discovered more detailed DNA results explaining how Ian is related to Damien?”

  “If you and I are seriously considering building something together, we need to establish ground rules about our jobs, Kellan.” April sat across from me, sipping her wine and sighing contentedly.

  “But your job is much more interesting than mine,” I whined in exaggeration. While teaching was rewarding and coordinating the new Dark Reality with Gary and Lara would be a fantastic journey, it couldn't compare to solving murder investigations. In the six months since I'd become a highly regarded amateur sleuth, I'd acknowledged where my passions burgeoned wildly.

  “Let's just recognize that we must sort this out sometime soon.” April kicked off her boots and stretched her legs under the table.

  Her left foot landed within inches of mine. I fought the urge to minimize the remaining space, keen to kneel in front of her and massage them. “Agreed. Until then, here's something you might care to know.” I shared the news about the key Bartleby believed was in Hiram Grey's study.

  “You shouldn't go into the basement alone. While you might defend yourself, Bartleby isn't the picture of perfect health and strength, Kellan. I also don't trust him.” April swallowed half the contents of her wine, potentially explaining why she hadn't dived across the couch to punish me. “I will tell you what I discovered, but only so you realize the severity of the situation.”

  As her warning concluded, the lights in the living room blinked several times before fading into darkness. Was the power outage a reminder that I should take April's caution to heart, an innocent momentary circuit overload, or an impending attack from my hard-to-catch vandal? I couldn't shake Bartleby's warnings, and I feared the stalker had increased his or her plan to torture me.

  “Is this some trickery to get my attention, April?” I only half-believed what I was saying. A virulent chill settled in the surrounding air, diverting my attention to Danby Landing's utter silence.

  April tensed. “I had nothing to do with the lights. We need to check them out immediately.”

  At that exact moment, Emma screamed wildly in the backyard. “You search inside. I'm protecting my daughter.”

  I thrust myself toward the front door to stop whoever or whatever was trespassing onto our property and into our lives.

  Chapter 9

  Thirty minutes later, we verified the kids were safe. Emma had shrieked at Ulan's scary story, but she also claimed to see a ghost wearing an antique lace dress floating nearby. After unsuccessfully locating anyone during our intense and nerve-wracking search, we scolded Baxter for ripping the electrical cord out of the wall socket and settled back on the couch. “That dog is gonna fry himself one day.”

  “Don't they say pets imitate their owners?” April revealed that the forensic anthropologist discovered Ian O'Malley had incurred a massive blow to the back of his skull. “There's a small chance it could've been from falling beams or other materials, but I suspect someone whacked Ian with a hard, blunt object. We found traces of wood and metal screws embedded in his cranium. If there's a connection between what's happening at your house and the skeletal discovery, you are in danger.”

  Madam Z's warning echoed inside my head, thrusting forward the full impact of April's news. A vicious killer could be hiding in my basement. “How did his skeleton stay preserved?”

  “Someone moved Ian's body to ensure he wouldn't be found. He was shoved through a hole into an unfinished cave beneath the basement of the library. Part of the building had collapsed in the original fire, sealing the unknown sub-level so that no one knew it existed.” April explained that the workers had broken up the foundation of the original library wing and hadn't noticed what was underneath it. They'd left a narrow pit in the ground about twenty feet away from the room where Prudence had been locked up during the Vietnam War protest. Lloyd Nickels had shown on a set of blueprints precisely where he'd left the woman. “Whoever killed Ian didn't want him to be found. We don't know if this person intentionally started the fire, or if it was just sheer luck, but the entire series of events ensured Ian was buried in an inaccessible location. We only found the skeleton now because the recent implosion cleared enough of the pathways for us to access that hidden space again.”

  “Do you believe it was Prudence Grey?”

  “She wasn't a super tiny woman. It's possible she had the strength to attack him and then shove him into the pit. I'm not sure we'll ever know unless we find her.” April indicated the underground cave didn't seem to lead anywhere, but they were still investigating the entire construction site.

  “Is that even possible after fifty years? I'm guessing she doesn't want to be found.” Maybe that's why she, or her ghost, warned me from moving into the house this week. I decided not to tell April about my visit with Madam Zenya in the spooky corn maze. I'd speak to the woman again first.

  “Hence you shouldn't venture into the basement by yourself. Someone from my department should be there with
you.”

  The kids wandered in, their faces and hands covered with chocolate and marshmallows. “Okay, you're right. I'll contact Connor.” I couldn't keep putting myself in jeopardy, especially with a growing family to be concerned about. Warning Nicky about his crew's safety was also the honorable thing to do.

  While I washed the mess off Emma, Augie and Ulan played video games in the living room. April began to pour herself another glass of wine but stopped when her phone vibrated. “I told the desk not to call me for twenty-four hours unless it was an emergency. I'll take it outside.” As the screen door slammed shut, April shouted and angrily stomped around. It couldn't be good news if that's how she'd reacted. I'd developed a knack for reading the woman's mind and responses lately.

  Emma dried her hands, then asked to watch a cartoon. We shuffled to her bedroom, where she located her pajamas and I downloaded a show on her tablet. I wasn't sure how long April would hang around, but Emma could watch it before falling asleep. We would read twice as much the next day to make up for missing it tonight. While changing, Emma tossed her original outfit into the laundry, pretending to dunk a basketball. As she brushed her teeth, I picked up the pants that had missed the bin, feeling something buried inside the fabric. Although I dislodged a bright and shiny olive-green stone, her pocket also contained a card with just a phone number. “Honey, where did you get this from?”

  Emma glanced to the floor while strolling into the bedroom. “I forgot about that. I'm sorry.”

  “It's okay, but you need to tell me who gave you the stone.” I wasn't sure how she'd gotten hold of the two items. I also wasn't thrilled about someone approaching my daughter without my permission.