The Taw Ridge Haunting

by Austin, Robin G.

  The voice is Aubrey’s, an animated and amused Aubrey. There’s a light on and it doesn’t sound like she’s on the stairs, so I push the door back a few inches to see who she’s down there with. I can’t see anything, and I can’t hear anyone’s voice but Aubrey’s.

  “Yes, she’s a big problem that we’ll have to deal with sooner or later. No, of course not the same way. I’m far more creative than you were. I know, the sooner the—

  “Ms. Raven?”

  I jump and knock the door back. Aubrey is silent.

  “Yes?” The clerk is standing a few feet from me. My watch dog is staring at him. I’m sure Aubrey is… listening.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asks.

  I can’t think of a good lie. “No. Unless you have a flashlight handy.” I smile and roll my eyes. The light from the basement is clearly visible.

  The clerk starts to reply, but he’s busy looking at the basement opening. I turn back and see that the light is off now. “There’s one at the front desk,” he says. He looks worried, about what I don’t know.

  “Great. I’ll follow you back.”

  When we get to the end of the hallway, I pull a flashlight from my bag and tell the guy that I had one after all. He looks relieved. I hurry back down the hall just in time to see Aubrey’s office door close. I stand outside and listen for voices. There aren’t any so I go to the basement, unlock the door, and slam it shut. Then I wait to see if Aubrey or whoever she was talking to comes out of her office. After a few minutes, I give up and go down the stairs.

  Even with the door wide open, the basement is dark and creepy. I stand at the bottom of the stairs and shine my light from one side to the other and back. “Anyone down here? Rita?” No one answers. She’s still not on the windowsill.

  Mojo has pushed past me to sniff around. I wish he could tell me who he smells. I know Aubrey was talking to someone and was probably on her phone, but who’s the problem? Whatever she was talking about, her mood sounded greatly improved since I saw her this morning.

  I light the lantern and look around, both for Rita and for signs of what Aubrey was doing down here. There’s nothing out of place. I open the cabinet drawers and don’t notice anything missing, then I shine my light on the ceiling looking for signs of a crawl space. The ceiling is nothing but beams and pipes.

  “Find Rita,” I tell Mojo. He isn’t interested.

  I’m on my hands and knees on the floor under the window when the door slams shut. Mojo is already up the stairs and I’m running behind him. The door isn’t locked, but it didn’t slam itself shut. I go into the hallway to find out who did. It doesn’t take me long.

  “Ms. Raven.”

  “Ms. Marks.” Aubrey’s standing outside her office. Her smile is creepy.

  “Still researching those records?”

  “I lost a favorite pen the other night. I was hoping to find it.”

  “Did you?” The woman laughs.

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t. Perhaps you saw it when you were down there.”

  Her grin fades, but only for a second. “Sorry, I didn’t see a single favorite pen in the basement.”

  Mojo’s growl is soft. Aubrey’s lip twitches then she smiles wide. “I’d stay out of that basement if I were you.”

  “You’re not me,” I say, and I’m not smiling.

  She tells me she has work to do and slams her door behind her.

  I go back to the basement door and stand watch. My head is throbbing and I feel dizzy. The woman’s aura was nearly invisible. How is that possible? I’ve been reading auras since I was a child. Some auras radiate, some are distressed, and some no more than flashes. Only the dying have auras as weak as hers.

  I give up waiting for Aubrey to come out of her office and make my way downstairs. I leave Mojo to stand guard at the door.

  “Rita?” I sweep the basement with my light and crawl around on the floor before giving up and going back upstairs. I’m thinking, hoping, she fell off the windowsill and a rat dragged her out an opening. I hate to think she disappeared on her own.

  I hate even more to think she’s turned on me and was the one who was having that conversation with Aubrey.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  §

  At six o’clock, I head to Boshears’ office. I knock and wait for permission to enter. Instead, the door open slowly as if on its own. Boshears is walking back to her desk. She has a shawl that she’s holding tight around her newly hunched body.

  “Come in.” Her voice is weak.

  “Not feeling well?” I ask as I sit across from her. It didn’t come out as sympathetic as it could have.

  “I’m a little tired is all. I’ll keep this brief for your sake and mine. The reopening events are in three days. I’ve been thinking about… about your activities.” Boshears grabs a bunch of tissues and dabs at her nose. Her skin is gray and she looks like she’s aging right before me.

  “I know you have your agenda. I have mine. They aren’t… what’s the right word? Compatible. I don’t care anything about who murdered those women. Forgive my bluntness, but I don’t care anything about those women. I care about myself. I know that’s cold and selfish. I won’t bore you with my problems. I can’t even bare to think about them, but I still have to manage my affairs.”

  She gets up to stare out the window. “I need that certificate.” She turns back to me. She looks like she’s going to pass out. “How much will it cost me?”

  I wince. “We’ve already discussed that. Nothing’s changed on my part.”

  “I can pay you a thousand dollars, then you can enjoy being a tourist for the remaining time you’re here.” Boshears sits at her desk. She’s holding the shawl like it’s a life jacket. “Principles are overrated, Ms. Raven, especially these days. Consider what I’m offering you.”

  I start to speak and she raises her hand. “Just think about it. I won’t be in tomorrow morning. We can talk about it in the evening.”

  “Nothing’s going to change my mind, including time spent thinking about a payoff. A certificate isn’t going to save your hotel.”

  Boshears closes her eyes. She looks crazy when she opens them. “I need to shift the atmosphere from fear to amusement. Is that so hard to understand? Your investigation is making things worse. I paid you to make things better. The hotel is empty.”

  I shrug. “Did something else happen?”

  She flicks her hand at me. I start to tell her about my meeting with Carol Taine, but think the better of it. “How long have you known Aubrey?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I should have thought the better of asking that too.

  Boshears’ nostrils flare. “If you’re having problems with her again—

  “I’m not. I’m concerned about a change in her attitude. I’ve seen her get quite angry on a couple of occasions and not just at me. If you’re worried about the atmosphere—

  “I’ll deal with my staff. You just think about my offer, and we’ll talk tomorrow evening.”

  I don’t bother to respond. When I leave her office, Aubrey is standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. “Working late?” I ask as I walk by her. She doesn’t answer.

  After getting ready, I have time to stop for fast food before my two hour drive to meet Carol. I need those two hours to think about what I’m going to do. Being bought off isn’t on my list. I have bigger problems than protecting my principles.

  Boshears is withering before my eyes. Aubrey is demonizing before them. Rita’s still missing or perhaps plotting my demise with Aubrey. And I have three days to learn who is haunting the Herman Hotel and convince them to leave. Principles are the least of my worries.

  With three minutes to spare, I pull into Bucky’s Truck Stop. I have a second message from Carol confirming her time of arrival. I think she’s investing too much hope in this meeting. As soon as I walk in the door, a woman rushes my way with a big grin.

  “Jack?”

  “Yes. You must be Carol.”
<
br />   “That’s me.” She gives me a big hug and leads me to a table. This isn’t Carol’s first visit to Bucky’s. She’s quite popular with the truckers.

  “So what do you want to know? Ask me anything,” she says.

  Carol’s an energetic woman with calloused hands and wide shoulders. She isn’t what I pictured from our conversation.

  “Tell me what the police told you about their investigation?”

  “Bah. Nothing worthwhile. They decided Butch Seggren was guilty from the start. He looked guilty, smelled guilty, and he acted like he could kill just about anyone. He didn’t fool me though. I could tell just by looking at the man that he wouldn’t get off his butt long enough to kill a bug. The murders took too much planning and work to do. No offense to the man, but honestly, he was as lazy as mud. I felt sorry for him.”

  I hesitate to think we’re talking about the same man. “Did they tell you why they thought he was the murderer?”

  Carol’s orders of our banana cream pie arrive. She takes a few bites and leans back. “I can’t recall that they did. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind back then. Diana and I had lost both our parents the year before. Other than my kids and a bunch of cousins I hardly ever see, she was the only family I had left. All I can say for certain is that it was an inside job.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The DNA evidence is why. There wasn’t a drop that identified the killer. Not mixed up with the butchering anyway. Whoever did it chopped my sister’s face to pieces. Like idiots, they asked me to identify her. Nobody could identify that face. I had nightmares for years. I assume the murderer did the same to the other two women. But no DNA except what was everywhere else. There was testimony that Seggren never went farther than the kitchen. He was way too dumb not to have left DNA in the rooms if he’d been up there. His attorney said as much and the jury agreed.”

  “Did you ever suspect any of the hotel’s employees?”

  “No, can’t say I did. I’d never even been to Taw Ridge before the murders. The police said they interviewed everyone staying in the hotel that night and all the employees. Guess they all passed muster.”

  “How about Mr. Tollison?”

  Carol shakes her head and wipes her mouth. “Mr. Tollison came to the courtroom every single day. Have you talked to him?”

  I tell her he passed on and she looks sad.

  “He was such a nice man. I know he felt real bad about what happened. He offered to let me stay in the hotel for free, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that.”

  “So you never suspected him?”

  Carol chokes on her pie. “Heaven’s no. The man was a gentleman. He wore these expensive suits and bow ties. A different bow tie every day. He looked just like a British spy or a politician. You could tell by looking at him that the murders nearly killed him. I know he blamed himself.”

  “Did he think Seggren was guilty?”

  “Oh, yes. He was the one that pointed him out to the police. He was so upset when the jury let him off. I know he wanted someone to pay, but I don’t know how he still thought the man was guilty by the end of the trial.”

  “Maybe he knew Seggren better than you and the jury.”

  “Maybe.”

  Carol confirms that Diana was staying at the hotel for a teachers’ convention. She also confirms that she didn’t know the other two women or why they were staying on the thirteenth floor when the other teachers were on the lower floors. She says she’s sure that Diana didn’t have the money for an expensive room. It seems just why the women were alone on the floor wasn’t a concern at the trial.

  I ask her if the subject of a crawl space in the hotel was raised, and she says she doesn’t remember anything about one. Then I ask the question I’ve been dreading.

  “Have you heard any rumors about the hotel since the murders?”

  “The police haven’t contacted me since before the trial. I used to call and ask what they were doing to find Diana’s murderer, but I could tell they were done looking. I feel bad for giving up on her. I’m ashamed of myself, but I just couldn’t keep reliving what happened to her. Is that what you mean?”

  “Not exactly.” I really hate to ask, but I need something for my four hour drive. “I’ve heard rumors that the hotel is haunted.”

  Carol laughs. She stares at me then shakes her head. “Ghosts? Diana?”

  “I’m sorry. I know how most feel about the subject.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She stares at me again. “I thought there was more to this meeting than some security work you were doing. My husband asked me what any of that had to do with me. I told him what I told you. I’d talk to anyone if I thought they could help find my sister’s murderer. Can you do that?”

  I start to tell her I’m not sure and stop.

  Carol pushes her plate away and folds her hands. “I used to have dreams about Diana. Those dreams were so real I thought I was losing my mind. They were all different and all the same, if you know what I mean. She would come to me and tell me not to sleep real deep. Most of the time, I woke right up. Sometimes I felt like someone was shaking me awake. Don’t think me too crazy, but I always felt it was Diana.”

  “When did the dreams stop?”

  Carol looks out the window at the parking lot. “I can’t say for certain because they weren’t regular. I’d go for months and months without having one. I got used to them and they were never as intense as in the beginning. I don’t know. I bet it’s been close to three years since I had one last. Are you here about… ghosts or something?”

  “Something like that.”

  I ask Carol if she met the other women’s families at the trial. She says Janet Onah’s parents were older and kept to themselves. Kay Lynch’s husband came every day. She says he had a ten year old son that he talked about. I can tell there’s something she isn’t telling me, even after I ask if she remembers more about Mr. Lynch.

  I walk Carol to her car and agree to call her if I find out anything about who killed her sister. I don’t tell her about my upcoming meeting with Detective Radford because I don’t want to get her hopes up. I think I already have and I feel bad about that.

  As I’m driving back to Taw Ridge, I have the nagging feeling I’m missing something. I don’t doubt that Diana was looking after her sister in coming to her in her dreams. I also no longer doubt that Diana’s spirit is free of the Herman Hotel. But what happened three years ago that finally released Diana Chasse’s spirit from this earth?

  I make a mental note to ask Radford if he knows.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  §

  It’s a little after one when I get back to Taw Ridge. I pull over to check for directions to a park on Mason Street. I don’t know if I’ll find the old man I met that first night at the hotel, but I’m going to try. I figure most of the dangerous drug users Radford warned me about are sedated by now.

  Quincy Park has a wide open area filled with swings and slides and tubes. It’s bordered by heavy woods. In the day time, this place is another world. The entrance is blocked by an iron bar. I park on the road and step over it.

  Occasional flashes of light come from the bushes that I suspect are lighting pipes and worse. Invisible eyes make my skin crawl. Mojo’s steps are light and his body is hunched. He’s in listen then attack mode.

  I move to the parameter and hope I haven’t already been spotted. If I have, I hope Mojo has been too. There are a couple of voices ahead by a makeshift tent. I walk silently until I’m a few feet away then I make enough noise to be heard. The voices turn to whispers. The whisperers are too loud in attempting to hide what they’re doing. I’m inches from them and they have no clue.

  “How you guys doing?” They freeze and stare at me. “I’m looking for someone. I wonder if you might know him.”

  It’s a couple of teenagers. They look hungry and beat up and battered by the life they’re living. They haven’t moved. “He’s probably in his sixties. Tall, thin. Maybe wearing overalls, mi
ssing some fingers. I’m a friend and need to find him.” This seems to relax them.

  “Lots of old men out here,” the girl says. “What’s his name?”

  “Goes by a lot of names. I know him as… Charlie.” It was the first name I thought of.

  “Don’t know anyone by that name,” the boy says.

  “Are there more people staying in the woods?”

  “Yeah, a few.”

  “Don’t go back there by yourself,” the girl says.

  The boy laughs. “You’re an easy mark. Got any spare change?”

  “I’ll give you ten bucks if you help me find Charlie.”

  The kid likes this idea. It might be enough to take away some of the pain they’ll both be feeling in the morning.

  “I’ll walk back there with you, but you’re on your own if things get out of hand. They aren’t always in the best mood.”

  “Deal,” I say.

  He and the girl whisper a few words then the kid tells me his name is Josh. They exchange a smile. With the lights behind us, I take my flashlight from my bag and follow Josh through the trees. Mojo, who was lying low in the brush, has taken his own path.

  “Not a cop are you?”

  “No. I hunt ghosts for a living.” He thinks this is funny. We walk for several minutes into the darkness then I see a small campfire. Josh moves beside a tree. I count five men a few feet from the fire. A few more look passed out on the ground.

  “Lots of them tonight,” Josh whispers and shivers. It’s still warm out. I have a feeling they aren’t friends of his. “You don’t want to mess with them, and I can’t do anything to help you.”

  “If you want the ten bucks, wait where you are.”

  “You’re going to be a ghost if you go talk to those guys. They aren’t friendly like me. I’m not going to the police if something happens. Why don’t you come back with some friends. Like in the daylight.”

  “I sleep during the day,” I say, and smile. The kid bites his lip and takes a step back.

  I scan the area for the amber eyes of a wolfdog. I see them a few yards away and start walking towards the men. Those that aren’t passed out turn in my direction. A few are looking nervous, a couple are looking hungry. I don’t see the old man.