Becca's Paranormal Collection

by Vickery, Rebecca J.

  "Nonsense, you had no way of knowing I was lurking behind the door. Was the dog a stray or did they find an owner?" Trudy shook her head and moved carefully away from the seeds scattered all over the floor to look for the broom and dustpan. All she needed to do was slide up and fall on her butt in front of him. What a great impression that would make.

  "Who's there? I'll be out in a minute," called Mina from the back after hearing the little bell on the door closer.

  "It's me, Mina. I made a mess and haven't left yet," Trudy yelled.

  "You wrecked the bird seed, right?" They heard giggling then an off-key sailor's ditty.

  "The dog belonged at a house a couple of streets over. It must have gotten confused when it was hurt. Here, let me do that." Simon bent, reaching for the dustpan, and he and Trudy cracked heads. "Sorry, are you okay?"

  She staggered back a bit, dropped the dustpan, and reached to rub her forehead. "Fine... You stand over there and I'll sweep this up." She pointed and began sweeping.

  Cautiously this time, he moved closer then knelt to hold the dustpan for her as Trudy swept the seeds into a pile. "Garbage or outdoors?" he asked when it was full the first time.

  "Outdoors is fine. Just scatter it out so I won't get charged with littering," she said, only half-kidding. Things were not going her way lately, and all she needed was a citation.

  They finally managed to clean it all up. Twenty-five pounds of seed and tiny pellets made quite a mess.

  "I really do have to go. The birds need their cups refilled and Mina will want my help in a little while. Thanks for coming by to tell me about the dog." Trudy stood the broom in a nearby corner and tossed the dustpan on the floor near it. "Mina, I'm going this time. Be back soon," she called out.

  "Okay, be careful," the reply came from deep in the back.

  "Let me," Simon opened the door for her.

  "Thanks." She actually made it outside this time.

  "Well, I guess I'll be going then. I just thought you'd want to know about the dog." Simon wanted an excuse to accompany her, but couldn't come up with one. He originally came by to ask her to lunch, which obviously hadn't gone well.

  "See you," Trudy tossed over her shoulder as she hurried away to her old station wagon and climbed in. She tooted the horn as she passed and gave him a wave. He really was a studly-looking man, and nice, though a bit clumsy. She rubbed her still smarting head.

  * * * * *

  The rest of the day flew by after she'd fed and watered the birds and returned to the store. Teens and tweens dropped by after school let out. Word must have spread among their ranks about the great Goth and dress-up stuff on sale and the young shoppers kept Mina and Trudy hopping. Both were thankful when six o'clock arrived and they could lock the door behind the final customer.

  "Whew, that was wild," Mina moaned as she sank onto a stool behind the counter. "I'm bushed. I even sold the faux leopard skirt and the purple leather vest I wanted for myself."

  Trudy looked around at the bare spots on the racks and shelves. "That's not all we sold. They almost cleaned us out. I don't think we'll have enough stuff to open at all on Friday." Friday would be Halloween—usually her favorite night of the year.

  "Oh, yes we will. I'm going through some of my packed-up junk from way back 'when' tonight, and you'd better do the same. We've got to get stuff in here to sell while the money is flowing. This might not ever happen again."

  Laughing at her friend, Trudy took all except their morning start-up money out of the register and stuffed it into the pink and green striped sock they used as a bank bag. "Are you taking this tonight or am I?"

  "You take it. I don't trust myself with money. My car might head for Vegas," Mina teased as she gathered her bag and her metal Cinderella lunchbox. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car then I've got to scoot."

  Chapter Three

  Trudy searched through several boxes in the storage room at her house and decided there were loads of good things to sell. Stuff from her college days, junk she would never use. She piled them in the back of her wagon, one heavy box at a time. Mina could help go through them at the store tomorrow. Then exhausted and wishing she could just fall into her own bed, she drove carefully to the old Gambrell house. She looked forward to feeding the cats, making a quick sandwich, having a hot shower, and trotting off to bed.

  Her eyes widened and she stopped the car at the end of the road. The lights in the front part of the house were ablaze. I know I didn't leave them on when I left this afternoon. Maybe the Gambrells came home early. She drove nearer, hoping to see their car in the drive. The driveway was empty.

  "Now what?" she asked of no one in particular.

  She drove to the end of the street then circled over a couple of blocks to the main road where there was a pay phone at the convenience mart. She'd lost three cell phones in less than two months and refused to spend more money for another. She and technology were just not meant to be. Trudy hated to, but she dialed 9-1-1.

  "What is your emergency?"

  Haltingly, she explained her concern and was told a police car would be there to assist her soon. Trudy followed the dispatcher's instructions and stayed in front of the store to await the officers.

  Simon leaned out the passenger window of the patrol car as it drew alongside her and asked, "Miss Simpleton, what's wrong?"

  "The lights are on at the Gambrell house. I didn't leave them on... Well, except for the lamp in the foyer so I could see to get in."

  "Could the Gambrells have come home early from their trip?"

  "I thought that at first. But their car's not in the drive."

  "Okay. Follow us over there, but stay in your car until we check it out," Simon told her.

  When they eased up in front of the house, it was almost dark. There was the soft glow of a single light seen through the frosted glass panes beside the front door.

  "I swear... It was all lit up..." Trudy jumped from her car, not knowing what to make of the situation. "I don't know what is going on here..."

  "It's okay, Miss," Simon's middle-aged partner offered. Then with a knowing grin, he went on, "If you want to see this guy, don't make any more false reports. Just ask him for his phone number."

  "Why I... I would never..." Trudy sputtered and blushed. Well, okay, she might over a hunk like Simon, but that was beside the point and not what was happening here.

  "C'mon, Sarge, don't tease her," Simon told him. "Miss Simpleton, we'll check the doors and make sure everything is secure. Maybe someone is playing a practical joke or an early Halloween prank. Could be a timer went haywire." He took her arm, trying to ignore what he told himself was static electricity this time, and walked her to the door.

  She explained there weren't any timers and, hopefully, no one to play pranks.

  The door was locked, just as she left it. The cats greeted them as they entered. Simon flipped on several switches and light filled the front of the house. He and Milt walked through the house, checking windows and the other doors, then told her they would check upstairs. Everything seemed locked up tight.

  Frowning, Trudy started a kettle for tea, chamomile with rose hips, to soothe her jangled nerves. If this was someone's idea of a joke, it definitely wasn't funny. She would not get a minute of sleep tonight. She wished, once again, she had never promised to stay while the Gambrells were away. This huge old Victorian always gave her the willies, ever since her first visit. Something about people who kept a roomful of birds in a dark, three-storied house with a turret on top of one corner seemed a bit...off. Trudy blinked as she caught a glimmer of a misty shape from the corner of one eye. When she turned her head, nothing was there.

  Simon and Milt entered the kitchen to find her sitting at the breakfast table nursing a hot cup of tea. Milt told her, "We checked upstairs then down in the basement. Nothing looked out of place and all the windows and doors are secure. That's quite a roomful of birds they have."

  "Mr. Gambrell is crazy for his birds, according to Mrs. Gambrel
l. He wouldn't agree to go on this trip until she hired me. Would you guys like a cup of tea?"

  As Trudy glanced up, her eyes caught Simon's brilliant blue gaze and she couldn't look away. Her mouth went dry and a warm yearning began in the pit of her stomach. What is it about this guy?

  Milt shook his head and looked from one to the other. Deciding he was one too many for this party, he said, "Nah, we need to get back on patrol, now that we know you're inside and all safe. Be sure you have an emergency before you call 9-1-1 again, okay? Simon, I'll be in the car. Ask her out or give her your number then get your butt out there."

  Simon took out a card and pen. He scribbled quickly and held it out to her. "Here's my cell phone number. If you have any more trouble or see anything unusual, you should call me. We'll be patrolling in this area all night."

  She stood and moved closer as she accepted the card. "I still don't think your partner believes me. I really did see all the lights on. Thank you for checking the house." She smiled at him. "I don't know what's going on, but I do feel better having this." Trudy waved the card at him.

  Her scent got to him again. What does she smell like? "Trudy, would you like to go out sometime? I mean if you don't have a steady boyfriend, or anything?" Simon caught her hand to stop her waving the card around.

  "On a date? That sounds—nice." Trudy couldn't remember the last time she went on an actual date. Oh, man, how pathetic is that? "And there's no boyfriend, or anything, right now," she added.

  Simon grinned at her. "All right," he approved of her answer. "How about Saturday night? I don't have to work this weekend, well, after Friday night, anyway." They heard a car horn from the driveway. "Crap, I'll call you. Or I'll stop by the shop. I gotta go." He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and raced for the door. "Come lock up. And call if you need me... Or even if you don't."

  Trudy laughed and went to latch the door behind him. She tucked his card into the top of her bra for safekeeping. Officer Simon Gunn, where have you been hiding all my life? She didn't even notice she put it on the left side—closest to her heart.

  * * * * *

  She pulled the upstairs telephone extension as far as the wire would stretch, barely inside the guestroom. Locking the bedroom door, Trudy laid the umbrella beside the bed within easy reach. The cats curled up, Harvey on the foot of the bed and Mittens on top of the dresser. They seemed relaxed enough. Trudy's tea and her missed sleep from the previous night began to take their toll on her. She could hardly keep her eyes open as she yawned and tumbled into the huge, antique, sleigh bed.

  What seemed mere minutes later, Trudy jumped up in the bed, hairs prickling on the back of her neck, and goose-bumps rising along her arms. Harvey stood on the foot of the bed, back arched, tail spiked up, hissing and spitting angrily toward the door. Mittens dove under the bed where she could be heard growling and rumbling in her chest.

  Great horned toads and lizard lips! Now what? Slipping out of bed, Trudy grabbed the umbrella and tiptoed over to the door. She pressed her ear against it, listening carefully. Nothing. The lock opened with a soft click. The door creaked as she opened it a tiny crack. Light filtered into the hallway, shining up from below. Trudy gasped then quickly closed and re-locked the door. She dropped to her hands and knees and felt for the phone she placed on the floor inside the room earlier.

  Where's the card? Oh Lord, where's the card? She groped in her bra and finally found it. Squinting in the darkness, she couldn't see the numbers. She considered turning on the lamp, but discarded the notion. She didn't want to alert whoever to her being awake and aware of his presence. Both cats now hid under the bed, Harvey still hissing and Mittens growling in agitated feline fashion. Trudy quickly dialed 9-1-1.

  "9-1-1. State your emergency."

  Trudy whispered, "There are lights on in the house... Someone is downstairs. Please send the police... Call Officer Simon Gunn, please,"

  "Ma'am, please speak up. I can hardly hear you. Is there someone in your house?"

  "I'm Trudy Simpleton at the Gambrell residence. All the lights are on downstairs. I'm locked in my bedroom..."

  "Someone locked you in your bedroom? I'm sending a car right away. Stay on the line, please."

  Trudy heard the dispatcher talking to someone else, giving them her address, and telling them she'd been locked in a room. "No, I locked me in the room..." she said, trying to clear up the misunderstanding. The phone crackled and went dead in her hand. She concentrated and waved her hand over it, thinking survival more important than her vow at this particular moment. A few star-shaped sparks filled the air between her fingertips and the receiver, but it didn't help. The line remained quiet.

  "Move over, cats," she whispered as she crawled across the floor, umbrella clutched in her hand. Terrified, she slid under the bed with them. The dust bunnies tickled her nose and the cats hissed and yowled at her for intruding, but no way was she coming out until the police arrived and said it was safe.

  * * * * *

  Simon took the call on the police radio and turned to Milt. "It's Trudy. Hurry!"

  "She'd better not be playing games, partner. We'll have to tag her for a false report this time if we don't find anything," the sergeant warned as he flipped on the lights and siren then executed a fast turn to head toward Whitney Street.

  "Trudy wouldn't do that. Something has to be going on in that old house. This is just weird." Simon saw the lights blazing on the front porch and throughout the downstairs as Milt turned onto Whitney Street. "See, the lights are on."

  "She could have turned them on, genius. Maybe she's a fruitcake. There's something definitely odd about that dame."

  "We'll see." Simon unbuckled his seatbelt. He jumped from the car the minute Milt slid to a halt. As he watched, the lights went out—all at once—leaving the large, old house in total darkness.

  "What the devil?" Milt joined Simon as they cautiously approached, one to the right of the door and the other on the left.

  They each carried their flashlight and gun. Pausing to listen, they heard nothing.

  Milt, as senior officer, whispered, "Try the door. If it's unlocked, go in low and to the right, I'll go in high to the left. Watch out for your girl and those cats."

  Simon nodded and reached for the doorknob. It was locked. He looked up at Milt to see what he wanted to do next.

  "Let's go try the back door."

  As Simon pulled back from the door, it suddenly opened with a long, low groan.

  "Oh, crap!" Milt cursed beneath his breath as he jumped back and to the right. "Come out of there with your hands up!" He switched on his flashlight and aimed it at the opening. "Police! This is your last chance to come out with your hands up."

  No one came out and no one answered.

  "We go in," Milt ordered. He shoved the door open with his foot, aimed his flashlight high to the left as Simon went in crouched low to the right.

  "Police!" Simon called out. "Come out where we can see you."

  Still nothing. Not even a cat.

  * * * * *

  "Trudy? Trudy? Which room are you in? Are you okay?"

  She squeaked, jumped, and knocked her head on the underside of the bed as she heard someone banging on doors along the hallway while shouting her name.

  "Simon's here. He's looking for us," she whispered to the cats curled against her side, and then she slithered out. Unlocking the door, she threw herself into his arms.

  "Honey, are you okay? Did someone lock you in? What happened?" He held her close as he holstered his pistol, then stroked her back through her bright yellow flannel pajama top. Cinnamon and vanilla... He breathed deeply, absorbing the wonderful aroma he finally identified. The powerful surge of desire thrumming through his body proved difficult to push away.

  "I... No... I locked myself in when... All the lights downstairs were on again, and the cats were hissing... I couldn't read your card and the phone went dead. Oh, Simon, I hate this house." She blubbered into his chest while clutching a fist full of
his uniform shirt.

  Milt located a light switch at the top of the staircase and the light sconces along the length of the hallway came on. "I'll check around and see if I find anything. Did you actually see or hear anyone in the house?"

  Trudy shook her head. "No, I... I saw all the lights on and I... I locked the door and hid under the bed with the cats."

  Milt arched a brow at Simon over her tousled red hair.

  But Simon knew she wasn't faking this as her body trembled in his arms. He wanted to hold her close and keep her safe. The need of her hit him once again, hard and fast, at the feel of soft, womanly curves snuggling against him. He'd never felt as drawn to a woman so fast. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to loosen his hold and get back to work.

  Once Trudy was safely wrapped in her florescent pink robe and settled at the kitchen table with a cup of hot tea, Simon joined Milt to complete another thorough search of the house, which revealed absolutely nothing different than before.

  When they returned to the kitchen, Trudy poured each of them a cup of instant coffee with shaking hands.

  "I should call in," Milt told them and left the room.

  Simon urged her back into her chair and then sat too, covering her hand with one of his. "Trudy, I have to ask you some questions. Don't be offended, it's part of my job."

  "You're going to ask me if I'm nuts, aren't you?" She turned her hand over and grasped his almost desperately.

  "I hope I would have been a little more tactful," he answered as he squeezed her fingers. She looked pale and her eyes were huge, frightened, green orbs. "Did you have a drink? Or do you take any medications?"

  "I had a ginger ale with a turkey sandwich after you guys left. Oh, and you know about the tea. Then I went to bed. It's been a tough couple of nights." She gave a tight little laugh. "And it's not even Halloween yet."