Sight Unseen Complete Series Box Set

by James M Matheson

  He walked to the kitchen and placed his gun calmly back in its box. He closed the lid. He turned off the light and walked out the kitchen door.

  Beside the back door was a wooden box filled with rags and gas cans. John set a rag alight and dropped it into the box. It smoldered for a bit and then set fire to the other rags. His face was expressionless.

  Little did John know that the fire would damage the back wall, but wouldn't have its desired effect. It would burn out by itself, causing only cosmetic damage. Ironically, another failure for John.

  Katie watched him as he walked off towards the woods, eventually disappearing into the bushes. He had nothing but the clothes on his back. It would be the last anyone saw of John, assuming that Katie was truly seeing him.

  Unfortunately, that would not be the last Katie saw of John.

  Chapter 18

  Katie gasped for air as though she'd been underwater too long. She sat up in her bed, terrified.

  It was a dream. It was a dream, she told herself. I hate these damn dreams. They are driving me bonkers--

  Something was wrong. Katie took a deep sniff and realized she was smelling smoke. Faint, but there. She shook her head. She was just dreaming of a fireplace smoldering.

  The fire was out when I came to bed. I'm certain of it.

  Katie quickly turned on the light. A cloud of smoke was slowly rolling along the hallway floor. Jumping out of bed, Katie approached the doorway. Red and orange flickering light illuminated the staircase and the smoke was getting fuller with each second. She was trapped.

  I can make it down, around the corner and out the back, she thought. But reason kicked in. That fire appeared to be right at the bottom of the steps. And the smoke was getting heavier by the second.

  Just as she was about to turn away, she saw a shadow move.

  "Is anyone there?" Katie called out. Of course not, idiot, you're home alone.

  Katie slammed the bedroom door shut. She ran and grabbed the duvet and tossed it at the bottom of the door to keep the smoke from coming in the gap.

  She stood up and heard a voice say, "Run!"

  She jumped in fright. Turning quickly, she was startled to see Daniel standing by the window. Clear as day.

  "Dad is angry. You have to get out. Run."

  Katie ran to the window. Daniel stood by her and watched. It felt as though he was keeping guard. She frantically wiggled the levers and flung the window open. This was an old house and she was two floors up. She'd break her back jumping.

  Daniel encouraged her, as though he could read her mind. "Climb out and run to the back. There's the tool shed, jump on that and then down. It's easy. You can do it."

  Katie pulled up a chair, stepped on it and out the window. Daniel stood and watched. With both feet on the roof, she looked back at him. He smiled.

  Katie couldn't run. The roof tiles were sloped and too slippery. The opposite side of the house was now glowing, as was the front corner. Flames were jumping out of the chimney. There was no time to waste.

  Sure enough, Daniel was right. At the back corner of the house was a tool shed. It was only a four-foot drop.

  Katie paused, took a breath and jumped. She landed on the top of the shed but slipped. The roof was pointed to match the points of the house, and in her miscalculation she fell sideways and slid off the roof completely. She landed on the ground on her left leg with a sharp twist and an angry smack.

  "Ahhhhh!" she screamed. Her left foot was in excruciating pain. Sprained? Broken? She didn't know and didn't care as her ribs hurt so bad that it was almost impossible to breathe.

  "I'm too close to the house. Move it, bitch," she said to herself.

  She stood up with great difficulty. Her foot was screaming pain signals to her brain. With most of her weight on her right foot she hopped her way to the front of the house. Smoke was everywhere and seemed to follow her every move. She was coughing and gagging, working to get away.

  "Oh my God. I left my phone and keys upstairs!" Katie cried out. She hustled as fast as she could to the car. Did I leave the valet key in the glove box?

  Bad habits can pay off. Notorious for never locking her doors, she swung the door open and sat in the driver's seat. The relief of taking the weight off of her left foot was incredible.

  Katie leaned over and frantically opened the glove box, pulling out tissues, parking tickets, speeding tickets and other useless bits of junk. No key.

  Katie sat back up and punched the steering wheel. She watched in horror as the library and lower half of the house were engulfed in flames. Daniel was standing at the window, watching. Behind him was a faint red and orange glow.

  The armrest. Katie twisted to open the car armrest. She reached down and fumbled her fingers around and found...the valet key.

  She pulled her legs into the car and slammed the door shut, banging her foot on the brake pedal, sending a searing jolt of pain up her leg. Katie jammed the key into the ignition and cranked it. The engine fired up and she put the car into reverse. As she pulled away she looked up at the bedroom. Daniel was gone.

  But John stood watching. She shook her head and refocused her eyes, and flames engulfed her curtains and fire roared out the open window.

  Katie raced down the long private road to the main highway, turned left and put the pedal to the metal. In her heart of hearts she knew there was no saving the house. But she had to make an effort.

  Slow down, girl, you're going to kill yourself, she thought. Her tires were squealing on corners that were particularly hard. Fortunately, her reputation for being a speeding ticket magnet came true.

  "Christmastime," she said out loud. She almost had a squeal of joy in her voice. It was her favorite saying whenever she saw the police lights in the rearview mirror.

  Katie hit the brakes and pulled over. She quickly rolled down her window and stuck her hand out, waving violently. She wanted to jump out and run to the police cruiser, but given her foot being injured and police shootings being out of control, she thought it best to stay where she was.

  The police officer was walking towards the car cautiously and had his hand on his gun as a precaution.

  "Officer, my house is on fire! Please call the fire department!"

  "Why didn't you call?" said the officer, looking somewhat skeptical.

  "Sir! My phone is in the house, I have no way to contact anyone. Please. Blackstone Manor. It's burning to the ground as we speak."

  The officer reached up with his left hand to the walkie-talkie on his shoulder and headed back to his car at a run. Katie was getting very impatient. It was taking too long for her. She put the car into drive and did a U-turn, slowly so as to not alarm the police officer too much. It didn't help; he was already freaking out when she pulled her car to the side of the road across from his.

  "Stop! Don't move your car until I say so. If you--"

  "My house is burning down. When you figure out how to call the fire department I'm going back to it. Follow me, stay here, I don't care. I'm going back to my house!" Katie said.

  As she slowly drove away the officer looked furious. His left hand was on the walkie-talkie and he ran back to his car. Maybe he thought she was trying to get away. Whatever. Come and get me.

  It was only a few moments before the police car was right up on her behind. He was doing that annoying squawking with the siren but she ignored it. She had four-way flashers on, and wasn't driving fast or doing anything dangerous. She figured he was probably going to ram her off the road. Fine.

  She turned right onto the private road that led up the big hill to the house. The police car gave out one last squawk and then slowed down briefly.

  The next thing Katie knew the siren was on and he raced past her up the hill. At this point the flames could be seen a good mile away, she estimated.

  She rolled in right behind him, parking close to the willow tree. Not thinking, she swung open the door and jumped out. Being in the car and having a massive adrenaline rush had made her forget ab
out the pain in her foot. When she jumped out a massive surge raced up her leg and she collapsed to the ground.

  The officer rushed over. "Are you okay? Is there anyone in the house? Any pets in the house?" The questions came fast and her answers shot back fast.

  "Yes, no, no."

  "What happened to your leg?"

  "I jumped off the roof."

  "Wow. I'm surprise you still have a spine!" he said, grabbing his shoulder walkie-talkie. "Need ambulance to Blackstone Manor, possible fractured leg, over." Then, to her, "Let me get you back in the car."

  "No. It hurts too much. I need to stretch it out. Can you please just rest me up against the willow?"

  "Sure thing," he said. He grabbed her left arm and put it around his shoulder and helped her hop to the willow. He wasn't particularly gentle; he was more military-like in function.

  "I'm going to leave you here for a moment. I gotta move your car out of the way for the fire department, and then move mine further over. We've got at least two trucks coming," he said. He didn't even wait for an acknowledgement. Terrible bedside manner, she thought, half-laughing.

  The house was totally engulfed in flames. They were at a safe enough distance and yet close enough that the slight breeze brought waves of heat.

  "You got your way, Blackstone. You destroyed everything. Your house could have brought so much joy to so many, you evil bastard..."

  Katie leaned back on the willow. Her left leg seemed to radiate pain with every heartbeat. Her ribs were sore as hell and her arms were scraped. She gazed down at her chest and noticed fresh blood--a lot of it.

  She took her right hand and looked down her shirt. Her chest was fine. Neck, fine. She touched her chin and it was dripping wet. She tucked her chin into the neck of her shirt and compressed the cut. Must have gotten it during the fall, she thought.

  How attractive I must have been to the police officer. He must have thought I was in a zombie movie. She laughed. But it hurt.

  Katie sat in daze, watching her house burn to the ground. She watched in morbid fascination as the 'third' floor collapsed. Everything seemed in slow motion.

  Fire trucks groaned up the hill. The fire chief arrived first. The officer ran over to him immediately and telegraphed the situation, "No people, no pets," and the fire chief yelled out to his crew, "Contain it."

  The crew got to work fast. They were worried about the trees behind the house and seemed to focus their attention there.

  An ambulance ambled its way up and parked close to the tree. A woman came to Katie's aid, and quickly assessed a broken ankle. She and her partner put on a temporary brace and lifted her to the stretcher.

  Other than a bad cut on the chin, which they bandaged, she was otherwise just badly banged up.

  A tall, lanky police officer looked into the back of the ambulance. "A Miss Mel Wragg wants you to know she'll meet you at the hospital--"

  "Is she okay?"

  "Uh, yes, I believe so. Her car broke down, and she has been at the dealership all day."

  "Thank you." Katie winced. Her foot was getting worse.

  As they drove away, she looked out the back windows at the house and the lonely willow tree and wondered what story the willow would tell if it could talk.

  Chapter 19

  13 months later…

  "Hey chickie! How are you?"

  "I'm doing fantastic, Mel! How are you doing?"

  "I've got some amazing news for you. You will not believe it when I tell you --"

  "Don't keep me in suspense! I hate that," Katie said, laughing.

  "First, tell me how things are going for you in Seattle and that house flip?"

  Katie was actually standing in the living room of the house in Bellevue, Washington. A weathered and badly neglected 2500 square foot home on a huge piece of land, she transformed it into a thing of beauty. She was beaming as she spoke on the phone.

  "I'm putting the 'for sale' sign on the front lawn as we speak. House is complete, and it looks amazing. Very profitable flip, almost everything was cosmetic, so it was a fast and easy fix--"

  "Profitable?" Mel interrupted.

  "Oh, dear lord, yes. I'll clear fifty thousand on this one for less than a month of work--"

  "Holy crap. That's incredible. How do--"

  "What's the news? I'm dying here." Katie decided it was a perfect time to celebrate. She went to the kitchen and pulled out a plastic drinking glass, a bottle of Merlot and a bottle opener.

  "Well, I was going to suggest you grab a glass but clearly you are well ahead of me. Get ready for this: they found John Blackstone."

  Katie froze. There was silence for what seemed like an eternity. "Found him? What do you mean?"

  "Hikers were going through the woods and saw something weird, apparently. They found skeletal remains down a steep embankment near a ravine—“

  ”Oh my God. How do they know it's him and--"

  “Everything points to him falling down the hill. His skull was cracked. They found his identification on him. I didn't get all the details, but they found his wedding ring I know for sure and some other identifiers--"

  "Where? Where was he from the house--"

  "Katie. Calm down. Please. You're starting to sound upset--"

  "The bastard tried to kill me."

  "He's dead now. For sure. His house is gone. I'm sure he's finished with his time here in this dimension, chickie," Mel said. She tried to sound soothing and reassuring.

  "Mel. WHERE?"

  "He was about two miles away from what would have been the back door of your house."

  Katie stood silently. It was raining; after all, this was Washington. She looked out the window at the big back yard through the water streaked glass. A chill ran through her.

  "They are sure it was him?"

  "You know I've got connections with the police. They haven't officially got forensics back, but it looks like he probably died from the fall, I guess running away. Looks like he was planning a getaway and karma caught up with him. He rotted in the woods, just as he deserved. I just wanted you to know."

  Katie shuddered and decided it would be best to change the topic. She wanted nothing to do with that house and the whole fiasco freaked her out. She changed the topic to their upcoming trip to Mexico for a week of "partying and debauchery" as Mel called it. The trip was only weeks away.

  After a bit of gossip, Mel said goodbye. Katie hung up, sealed up her wine and drove back to her small condo downtown. Beautiful, and just a few blocks from the famous Pike's Place.

  Katie reopened her bottle of wine and poured another glass, in a proper and sophisticated wine glass. She took a swig and headed to her hall closet. On the floor was a cardboard file box labeled 'Blackstone Manor' on it. She picked it up and carried it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. She tossed the cardboard lid onto the floor and started pulling out the contents.

  Out came the file folder with all the legal documents, results of the investigation and insurance claim. The sale of the land to the next owner, a developer.

  But these weren't the things she was looking for.

  "Where are you?" Katie said out loud.

  Buried at the bottom of the box was a plastic ziplock freezer bag. The big kind. Found you, she thought, grabbing it and placing it on the couch.

  Taking a deep breath, Katie felt the need for some 'medicine.' She got up, retrieved her glass of wine and bottle and sat back on the couch. She poured a very full glass of wine and sat back.

  The fire chief had visited Katie in the hospital the morning after the fire. As she lay in the hospital bed with a huge bandage on her chin to protect the stitches and her leg in a cast, he asked her only a few questions.

  Before he left, he said they found something strange in the rubble. A book. More accurately, a Bible. The black leather had been singed and the edges of the pages scorched. He gave it to her as a 'souvenir.'

  That Bible was in the bag that she was gently fingering with her right hand, as
she slurped the wine. The memories and the horror were still there in her mind, clear as if it were last night.

  Suddenly placing the glass down she pulled the ziplock open with a surge of curiosity. The air filled with the scent of burned wood, still strong after all this time.

  How the hell did this survive-- She froze for a second and then burst out laughing at the fact she said 'hell' holding a Bible. It was a nervous laugh.

  Charred dust was falling from the Bible. It was dropping onto the rug and her couch. Didn't plan this out too well, she thought, placing it on the coffee table.

  Katie carefully opened the Bible, it's cover barely attached due to the damage and the first few pages fell out. The first page that she saw was the "Presentation" page. In thick black ink, it simply read, BLACKSTONE.

  It had an inscription. It was very faded. Katie leaned close to it and tilted her head to read it. It read:

  To Agnes,

  May you live ten years longer than I,

  and may I never die.

  Love, John.

  Katie sat back on the couch. A chill ran through her.

  May I never die? Katie thought. She let out a weak laugh and put the Bible back in its bag and got up from the couch. You better be dead, she thought, raising her glass of wine in a toast.

  "May your family rest in peace and may you burn in hell for eternity, John."

  As Katie chugged the last of her wine, she gazed out at the darkened city lit by street lights and signs. The rain was now drizzling softly and she enjoyed the quiet and the darkness...

  Scratch scratch scratch. Scratch scratch. Silence. Scratch scratch scratch.

  The Haunting Of Knox Estate

  Dedicated to Sean & Shanyn

  Chapter 1