“You’ve been more than generous with your time, Mrs. Mowbray,” she said as Cord stood up beside her. “Thank you for telling us what you know. It’s definitely an interesting house.”
Mrs. Mowbray stood up as well, looking rather confused at the abrupt end of their discussion. “Of course,” she said. “We’re always here to help, especially with a house of such significance to the community.”
Alix was already moving for the door, feeling ill and flustered. “Thank you again. We appreciate it.”
Mrs. Mowbray barely had time to bid farewell before Alix was out onto the sidewalk with Cord on her heels. Once outside, Cord put a big arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him.
“Hey, slow down,” he murmured. “Why the rush? What’s wrong?”
Alix broke down in quiet tears. “I don’t know,” she said. “All of that stuff about dead babies buried under the house and curses and witches… I just didn’t want to hear anymore. I’m scared, Cord. The whole situation has me scared and sick.”
He hugged her gently as they headed towards his truck. “I know,” he said sympathetically. “But I thought getting some history on the house might help us understand what’s going on.”
Alix sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Me, too,” she said. “But it’s so awful. What do we do now?”
He was quiet a moment as he unlocked the truck and opened the door for her. As Alix climbed into the truck, he leaned against the seat, wedging himself in between her legs as she sat sideways on the seat. He wrapped his big arms around her as she caved in to his strength, her head resting on his chest.
“Let me think about this and come up with a plan,” he said thoughtfully. “I need to take a look at the basement and see if there are any areas where a body could have really been buried. The house has a full basement, though. I don’t recall if there are any crawlspaces.”
Alix snuggled against him. “Archaeologists have portable ground penetrating radar machines,” she said. “Do you think we could contact a museum or a university and see if they’ll come out and do a survey? If we tell them it’s about the Salem witch trials, I’ll bet we get some interest.”
He kissed her on the top of the head. “That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “We could have archaeologists come out and dig around to see if they can come up with anything. The house is so historically significant that I’m sure we could get someone to come and do it. Maybe that’ll help with the ghost problem.”
Alix was feeling better, but only marginally. Cord gave her a big squeeze and made her put her legs back into the truck before he shut the door and went around to the other side. Climbing into the vehicle, he engaged the ignition and headed for home.
* * *
Quirt and Mary Trevor lived in a home built in 1790 along the banks of the Porter River in Danvers, not too far from where Cord lived. It was a beautiful Colonial-style home, painted the original shade of blue, and sat on a half-acre of land that included a tennis court and a swimming pool, and a very creepy cluster of ancient trees down by the river’s edge. As a kid, Cord had always been afraid of them. The house had been passed down on his mother’s side of the family, the Van Wycks, and a Van Wyck had lived at the property since the day it was built.
Cord was acting battalion chief on the day after visiting Mrs. Mowbray at the Historical Society and was driving the appropriate red SUV that declared his title. He pulled up his parents’ driveway and climbed out, hearing the dogs inside the house go crazy. His parents had two Pekingese dogs or, more accurately, his mother had two Pekingese dogs that ruled the roost. His dad hated them. As Cord walked up the steps, he saw the dogs in the window, barking madly, and one of them pulled down the curtains. He laughed as he knocked on the door.
Cord could hear his mother approach the door, admonishing the dogs. The bolt was thrown and the panel opened.
“Cord!” his mother exclaimed, grabbing the dogs when they tried to charge the man in uniform. “Hi, honey. What brings you here?”
Cord came into the house, grinning as his mom wrestled with the dogs. “If they bite me, I’ll punt them out into the river.”
His mother made a face at him. “They’re not going to bite you,” she scoffed. “They’re just excited.”
She put the dogs down, who made a run at Cord until he stuck a big boot out and pushed them away. Then they ran the other direction, barking like crazy. He heard his dad coming up from the basement as he followed his mother out into the kitchen.
“I’m going to kill those damn dogs,” his father said as he opened the basement door. He had something in his hands, fussing with it. “Shut the hell up!”
“Quirt!” Mary scolded. She didn’t like anyone to yell at her dogs. “Look who’s here.”
Quirt glanced up at his enormous son. “Oh, hey, Cord,” he said, still messing with whatever he had in his hands. “Long time, no see.”
“I know; sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“What brings you around?”
Cord leaned against the kitchen counter as his mother poured a cup of coffee. “Just driving between stations and thought I’d stop by,” he said. “I haven’t seen you two in a while.”
Quirt sat down at the kitchen table. “You do better than your sister and brother,” he said. “We go months without seeing those two.”
“Kent’s a busy guy,” Cord said of his younger brother by two years.
“He’s a chiropractor,” Quirt said wryly. “How busy can he be? He goes to work at ten in the morning, leaves at four in the afternoon, and then golfs all the rest of the time.”
“So go golf with him.”
“I can’t. He beats me and then makes me pay for everything.”
Cord grinned. “You’re a sucker if you let him do that to you,” he said. Then he eyed the device his father was messing with. “What’s that?”
Quirt glanced up at him. “A metal detector,” he said. “I’m going to scan this entire property and see what treasures I can find. God only knows what the Van Wycks have buried around here.”
“Bodies, more than likely,” Cord said. “They were famous for deceiving the Native Americans and then killing them and calling it self-defense.”
“Cord,” his mother admonished. “Enough of that.”
Quirt was grinning as he finished the adjustments on the electrical box in his hands. “Well, I intend to find all of the skeletons I can,” he said. “Maybe I’ll sell them to a museum.”
“Or have the entire Iroquois nation down around this property trying to declare it a sacred burial ground.”
“If that’s the case, I’ll sell it to them for five million bucks. Historical properties are worth a lot.”
Mary, with two cups of coffee in her hand, put one down on the table in front of her husband and handed the second one off to Cord.
“You two are impossible,” she sniffed. “Besides, this isn’t ‘just’ historical property. It’s family property.”
“Speaking of family property,” Cord said casually, “I told you that Evenshade was sold, didn’t I?”
Quirt nodded, looking up at him. “You sure did,” he said. “Didn’t your new girlfriend buy it?”
Mary shushed her husband harshly but Cord grinned. “I know you think you’re kidding, but you’re not,” he said. “I told you a doctor new to the area bought it.”
“A woman,” Mary said helpfully. “You said she has a couple of children. Are you… seeing her, son?”
Cord nodded. “I am,” he said. Then, he sighed and ran a hand over his cropped blond hair. “I haven’t seen you two in a while. A lot has happened. I don’t even know where to start.”
Quirt quit messing with the metal detector box and looked at him. “Are you really seeing her?” he asked. “I was just needling you. You only mentioned her once a long time ago, I think about the time she first moved in. But the way you spoke about her, I thought something might be up.”
Cord grinned. “You could say that,” he said, his voice softeni
ng. “I love her and we’re going to get married.”
Mary let out a squeal and ran at him, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a big kiss on the cheek. “Cord, I’m so thrilled,” she gushed. “When do we get to meet her?”
Cord was smiling at his mother. “Soon,” he said. “It’s just been a really busy time with her new job, the kids in school, my work… you know how it is.”
Quirt was on his feet, extending a congratulatory hand to his son, who took it. “I’m sincerely happy for you,” he said. “It’s been a long time since… well, anyway, how do the boys like her?”
Cord shrugged. “Chris and Kyle think she’s great,” he said. “Cole has been a little slower to come around but he’s okay with it now. In fact, Alix has a son a little older than Cole and the boys all get along great. She also has a four-year-old daughter who’s just as cute as she can be.”
“A girl?” Mary repeated. “Oh, happy day! You’ve got three boys, Kent has two boys, and Elizabeth has two boys, so I was thinking we’d never have a granddaughter.”
“Rose is her name,” Cord snickered at his mom’s happiness over a step-granddaughter. “She’s a doll.”
“Rose,” Mary repeated, rolling it off her tongue. “Can we invite ourselves to your house one day and meet everyone?”
Cord nodded. “Maybe this weekend,” he said. “I need to check with Alix’s work schedule, but I think she’s off on Sunday.”
Mary was thrilled as she turned to look at the calendar above the phone on the wall. “We’re free,” she declared. “Oh, Cord, this is such good news. When do you think the wedding will be?”
Cord shrugged and set his coffee cup down. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m leaving that up to Alix. I think we’ll probably move everyone into Evenshade since it’s bigger than my house. In fact… that’s actually what I came to talk to you about.”
“What?” Quirt asked curiously.
“Evenshade,” Cord replied hesitantly. “When Aunt Cecily owned the house, did she ever mention to you that it was haunted?”
Quirt’s curious expression transformed into something thoughtful. “There has always been that rumor.”
“I know, but did she say something about it?”
“Why do you ask?”
Cord lifted his eyebrows. “Because I’ve been spending a lot of time over there,” he said. “I have to tell you that I’ve had some very weird experiences, including seeing a ghost.”
“A ghost?” Quirt looked startled. “You’ve seen a ghost?”
Cord nodded. “Look, you know I’m not one to believe in that kind of stuff. In my world, everything has a logical explanation so I don’t take lightly what I just told you and I hope you don’t, either. I wouldn’t make this stuff up.”
Quirt was shaking his head before Cord even finished. “I know, son,” he said, moving to reclaim his seat at the kitchen table. “You’d be the last one I’d expect to hear that kind of thing from. So it was really a ghost, eh? What did it look like?”
Cord took his coffee cup and went to sit at the table with his dad. “Like a little girl,” he said frankly. “In fact, it looked like Alix’s daughter, only there were big black holes where the eyes should have been and the teeth… big sharp fangs. It was the craziest thing you’ve ever seen.”
“Was it the first time you’ve seen it?”
Cord nodded. “Seen it, yes,” he said. “But I’ve heard it before. When Alix first moved in, she said she kept hearing a little girl singing and her daughter has this imaginary friend she calls the ‘sad girl.’ At first, the ‘sad girl’ did things like steal stuffed animals but then she grew more violent. She actually pushed Alix down and knocked her out. Then, on Halloween night, she sure made her presence known. We all saw her. It has made Alix understandably edgy so we went to see Mrs. Mowbray over at the Salem Historical Society. She told us a lot about the house, including the legend that Sarah Good had her dead baby, Mercy, buried under the house to curse Abigail Williams. Have you ever heard anything like that?”
Quirt was listening to him seriously. After a moment, he nodded his head slowly. “I have,” he said. “From my grandfather. He was Aunt Cecily’s brother, you know.”
“I know. What did he say?”
Quirt cleared his throat softly, glancing at Mary as he spoke. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Why not?”
“Because he said they used to keep a ring of stones on the basement over what was presumed to be Mercy’s grave,” he said. “The stones were supposed to keep her evil suppressed. They’ve been there since the house was built. Have you looked in the basement at all?”
Cord’s features twisted with confusion. “No,” he said. “What the hell is this stone circle about?”
Quirt sipped his coffee as he thought on his answer. “You know,” he said casually, “when you were young, you wanted to know all about our bloodlines and your legacy as a Caster, but when you got older, you didn’t want to hear it anymore.”
Cord stiffened up, sitting back in his chair. “Are you going to start that witch stuff again?”
“It’s in your blood, Cord.”
“It is not in my blood.”
“As my son, my firstborn, it’s in your blood. You have the casting gift.”
Cord abruptly stood up. “I don’t have anything,” he snapped. “I came here to find answers but if you’re going start up with that witch stuff again, then I’ll just talk to you another time.”
“Another time might be too late,” Quirt said, his focus on the tabletop. “It sounds like the activity may be picking up. If the stone circle has been moved, then that could be a problem.”
Cord stopped his agitated pacing and looked at his parents. It was clear that he was mulling over what his father said, and the truth was that he had come here for answers. Even answers he didn’t like. Alix was involved and if she was in danger, then perhaps he really did need to listen to what his father told him. With a grunt of frustration, he reclaimed his seat.
“It’s always witchcraft with you,” he muttered. “So what’s the deal? What’s going on at that house?”
Quirt looked up at him. “I didn’t ask for the gift any more than my father did, or my grandfather,” he said. “Abigail Williams was a witch of the greatest degree and she made sure that the males in her family line were given the gift of Casting because she was afraid if she passed her knowledge down to the women, they would be more easily persecuted. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is. We have the power. But so did Sarah Good.”
Cord sighed heavily. Then he put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, so we have the power,” he said. “And Sarah Good had the power. So it’s really true that she had her baby buried under the house?”
“According to family legend, it is.”
“Then why didn’t Abigail just remove the body?”
“She couldn’t get near it because Sarah had placed a spell on it,” Quirt said. “Abigail countered the spell by putting a stone ring around the grave that was christened with a spell that would keep the evil in the grave from escaping. Trouble is, that house has always been cursed with a ghost of a small girl. My grandfather saw it and so did my father, so somehow, someway, something has managed to get out of that grave. Now it’s haunting the house and I’m sure it will be particularly interested in you. It will know you as a Holcombe descendant. You may do more harm than good if you can’t protect yourself and your girlfriend’s family from it. Don’t ignore it, son. That’s the worst thing you can do.”
Cord sat back in his chair, looking at his father in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“You came here for answers, son. If you don’t like what you hear, then I’m sorry, I really am. But that’s what I’ve been told.”
At this point, and given what he had seen, Cord was willing to go on a little faith. Still, he was confused and, if he were to admit it, a little frightened. He needed to mull all of the information over before he
took the next step. With a heavy sigh, he stood up.
“Thanks anyway,” he said. “I need to think about all of this. We’ll talk again on Sunday.”
Quirt and Mary stood up with him, following him out of the kitchen. “Do you want your mother to go over to the house?” Quirt asked helpfully. “She senses things, you know. Maybe she can help you make sense of this.”
Cord looked at his parents, so seemingly normal; his father was a retired lawyer and city councilman for the city of Danvers and his mother had been a high school principal. Two nice, normal people who happened to be a warlock and a medium, respectively. Cord didn’t know what to think anymore, but one thing was certain; he was starting to be just the least bit open-minded about it. After what he had seen, he had to be.
“Maybe on Sunday,” he said. “Let’s just play it by ear.”
“Okay,” Mary said, kissing her son on the cheek. “We’ll see you then. We’re looking forward to it.”
Cord waved at his parents as he left the house and climbed back into the battalion chief’s SUV. Backing down the driveway, his mind lingered on what his parents had told him. They’d known exactly what he was talking about, including the little ghost girl. That frightened him because it meant that whatever was happening at Evenshade had history. The evil had history.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell Alix.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
After Cord’s visit with his parents, he had gone back to the station and done some of his own research on Evenshade and how it was linked to the Salem witch trials. He came across more information about a curse from Sarah Good against Abigail Williams, but nothing specific until he happened to be looking at images regarding the trial, woodcuts and the like. He also came across a seventeenth century woodcut commissioned by Sarah Good’s daughter, Dorothy, that was the image of a house that looked strangely like Evenshade, with a devil-looking thing rising up out of a circle in the ground in front of it. After that, he had to stop looking because it was going to give him nightmares.
Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 239
