Mysteerie Manor

by Sharon Hays

  Only a block away she could see the office on the corner all lit up. “Great, she’s still here,” she spoke quietly to herself. She drove up and parked directly in front of the entrance. Hurrying up the stairs, she pushed on the glass door into the office. Not seeing anyone in the front area, she called out her friend’s name. “Joan… Joan! Hello, anybody here?” No one answered. She went to the back room, pushed open the door and made her way inside. “Hello Joan? Are you in here? You’re scaring me! Stop with the jokes now. Where are you?” Her heart began to race. Something was not right here.

  Inside the room a loud crash startled her, but the lights were out and she could barely see. She stood frozen in the doorway. “What’s that? Who’s there?” Maryanne slowly backed out of the room, and then she heard a muffled voice from inside.

  “Maryanne wait. Don’t leave!”

  “Joan, is that you? Where are you? She ran her hand along the wall, found the light switch, and flipped it on. As light filled the space, she saw Joan huddled on the floor near the file room door, crying. Blood was dripping and smeared on the side of her head.

  “Oh my God! What happened? I’m calling an ambulance!” Dialing 911, she explained the urgency to the placating, toneless man who answered. She moved toward Joan.

  Visibly shaken, Joan tried to speak, barely getting the words out. “Large…man…came in…wanted to get…I… can’t…” She struggled to talk, but Maryanne could not interpret what she was trying to say.

  Maryanne brought two cool towels, placing them across Joan’s forehead and neck until she opened her eyes. Thankfully, the injury didn’t look too bad when she wiped off the blood. It had stopped bleeding, but a small bump was starting to form. “I’m here, Joan. Relax. Stay there and don’t move until the ambulance arrives.” She was trying to remain as calm as possible and felt relieved when, in the distance, she heard the approaching sirens.

  As they arrived, she opened the front door and signaled the emergency vehicle. “Over here,” she shouted, and then ran to the window of the van. “I’m not sure what happened here, but when I went inside, Mrs. Bishop was on the floor, nearly unconscious, blood on her head. She did say that a man had attacked her. I couldn’t understand the rest.”

  She led the medics up the stairs into the house, to where Joan lay on the floor looking scared and disoriented, pressing the washcloth against her head. Two emergency medical techs entered carrying a stretcher, while the other attended to Joan.

  “What happened?” she moaned. As she put her hand on her head, she immediately flinched. “Ouch! Someone hit me on the head! A man was here. Where is he?” She spotted Maryanne, obviously not remembering seeing her minutes before. “Oh, thank God, you’re here. I don’t know what happened, it was all so fast. I felt something hit the back of my head. I must have fallen. When I looked up, there was a man standing over me, but I didn’t recognize him. My head is killing me.”

  “Just lay back for a minute until you get your composure, Mrs. Bishop,” the EMT said. “I’m going to take your blood pressure and pulse now. That bump is a doozy. You hit your head pretty hard.” The EMT wrapped the blood pressure cuff on her arm and finished the vitals. “Blood pressure is a little elevated and pulse a little high, but that’s understandable. You are not in any immediate danger, but we are going to put you on the stretcher and take you to Boulder Hospital, just to make sure everything else is fine. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes, sure, I’ll go. I don’t feel well. I could use something for this headache.”

  “I’ll follow along and hang out with you until they are sure you’re okay. You’re gonna be just fine,” Maryanne reassured her.

  A tall police officer came in with another officer following behind holding paperwork. “Hello, I’m Officer Tratnik.” He reached out his hand and shook hers. “This is Detective Ramos.” He pointed to a tall, muscular officer whose dark brown eyes reflected the open window on the opposite side of the room. Maryanne nodded in acknowledgment and glanced at the window, filing the fleeting thought in her mental notes.

  The medics placed Joan on the stretcher and carried her to the ambulance. Maryanne walked alongside for reassurance. They slipped Joan inside the back of the van, and Maryanne watched as they drove off, sirens blaring through the night. Flashing lights reflected against the gaping oaks as the ambulance disappeared.

  Officer Ramos walked Maryanne back to the office and opened the door. He made a complete search of the premises and collected a few bits of possible evidence, which he contained for the evidence files. When he was finished, he approached her.

  “Miss O’Donnell, I am finished for the time being and have done a thorough search. We are putting a guard here overnight and more work will be done tomorrow. I have had Steve take fingerprints and other samples, so we’ll get the ball rolling quickly. I hope your friend will be okay. If there is anything I can do, please feel free to contact me.” He handed her a card and looked down at her with a half smile. She couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. She took the card, studied it, and looked up at him. His eyes locked with hers, and she turned away to conceal the blush she felt in her cheeks. Maryanne was usually not shy, so this gave her an indication there was a spark of electricity there. She was impressed with his tall and muscular stature. He would certainly not be someone she could pass on without taking serious notice.

  “Now remember, call me if you need anything or have any problems at all.” With that, he took her hand and walked her down the stairs to her car, opened her door, and waited until it started. She drove off to the hospital, thinking about him on the way there, hoping she would see him again, but mostly concerned about Joan and anxious to get results on her condition.

  Maryanne sat anxiously in the waiting room, trying to make sense of what had just happened to her friend. She flipped through a magazine and some brochures, not able to concentrate. Maryanne had become very close to Joan since they met about seventeen years ago at a party in Denver. They were twenty-one, and students at the University of Denver. Maryanne leaned back in the chair, reflecting on those moments. She thought about a young man, Gary Devany, whom both she and Joan had met at school. They eventually, both ended up dating him—at the same time. Neither knew the other felt anything special about Gary. They were totally surprised when Gary called Joan one night, where Maryanne just happened to be spending the night at Joan’s dorm. Maryanne answered the phone, putting them both in an awkward situation. They solved the problem by stopping their relationship with Gary, and ended up laughing about it later.

  Maryanne drifted back even further, recalling a young man that she met when she was just fifteen. She had fallen madly in love with him, and eventually lost her virginity to him. In her sixteenth year, she became pregnant, and that was a story she didn’t like to think about. Everything changed after that. The relationship with her mother was devastating to her, after she forced Maryanne into a life changing experience that would forever leave empty spots in her future. Her mother insisted on her adopting the child out, without seeing or knowing anything about it. She distanced herself from her mother since that time, and never made amends. As soon as she graduated, she went to the university and stayed at the dorms. They rarely kept in touch. Though her mother tried to make contact and amends, she could never make herself feel the same about her after that.

  Eyes welling with tears, Maryanne quickly changed her thoughts to a later time, when she and Joan hosted a party at the dorm. They were both reprimanded, and they had a big laugh about that one. They were nearly expelled from college, but given a second chance, which they obviously took very seriously, and both received degrees from the University of Denver.

  Maryanne’s mother insisted on her getting an education, believing that she, herself had made a mistake in quitting school and getting married when she was too young. She didn’t want her daughter to make the same mistake. For that Maryanne was thankful. Fortunately, the man her mother had made the mistake of marrying so young was
from a well-to-do family, so Maryanne didn’t have the problems she might have otherwise had. Fortunately her father and mother remained together, though she and her father were not close at all. He passed away from a heart attack when she was only twelve years old. Her mother became very ill and passed away with cancer just before Maryanne’s eighteenth birthday. That loss imbedded itself into her with pain and guilt. She still had not forgiven her mother and was never able to regain the closeness they once had shared before she passed away. She consumed herself with school, majoring in Anthropology and World History. Her mother’s death was yet a burden on her conscience. After college, she began researching antiquities and contracting with clients, to acquire expensive antiques and collectables. Her business became very lucrative, and she had gained the trust of several wealthy clients. She loved the freedom to go at her own pace. She especially enjoyed not being tied down to one place constantly. Thinking she had not even scratched the surface of her travels, she took an excursion through Europe for three long months. Putting the past behind her she went on with life, not looking back, for the time being, that is. From time to time she recollected memories, but had few regrets, other than the emptiness left by her mother’s death.

  Joan moved to Boulder, Colorado, where Maryanne visited a few times. She decided to move to the colorful mountain city as well. Joan had been doing well in the real estate business, and she found a small house for Maryanne to look at over a year ago. Maryanne loved the house and purchased it on a foreclosure sale for almost nothing and was slowly renovating it. It was a good investment. She continued her business from Boulder and still traveled intermittently for antiques.

  Joan had given Maryanne the information on the Valencia Manor only a few days ago. Maryanne was so intrigued with the Manor, that she had convinced Joan to let her look at it just a month before it was to come out in a real estate brochure. Maryanne planned a return visit to the Valencia Manor in the morning.

  A thin, gray-haired doctor entered the waiting room, looking toward Maryanne, and she abruptly ended her reflections. “Are you waiting for Mrs. Bishop?”

  “Yes, yes. I’m Maryanne O’Donnell. I’m waiting to hear about her condition. When will she be discharged? I’ll wait to take her home if she is going to be released tonight.”

  “I’m Dr. Martin; your friend is going to be just fine. A little shook up with a good bump on the head, but otherwise fine. You can go in now and see her. We’ll let her go home as soon as the paperwork is done.” He turned back in the direction he had entered from. “Follow me, Miss O’Donnell. I’ll take you to her.” He pointed his hand in the direction of the hallway. They both walked to the end of the hall, where he signaled toward the room and continued walking. Maryanne entered.

  “Well, you’re looking much better, considering what you’ve been through tonight. The bandage isn’t that bad, and I’m sure it won’t have to be there for too long. You’ve got some color back in your face now, too. Are you sure you feel well enough to go home?” Maryanne asked.

  “Yes, I do. You know how I hate hospitals, and I do feel a lot better now. That bump smarts a little, but not that bad, I guess. They gave me two Tylenol, and he said to call him in the morning.” She joked and held her head at the same time. “It only hurts when I laugh. I’m still a little upset, but I’ll be fine as soon as I get some coffee and something to eat.” Her humor was one of the things Maryanne especially liked about Joan. Even when things went wrong, she found a way to look at the bright side. She had always been an easy going person and seemed to get through bad experiences with a good attitude.

  “As for Coffee, now that’s going a little too far. I think you may want to reconsider that one. You should drink some chamomile tea. It’ll calm you down, and you could use some sleep. Coffee will keep you up and possibly not be good for your headache. However, you already know that. I’m just being the over-protective sister, now.”

  “You’re right; coffee is not a good idea right now and stop making me laugh it hurts.” She smiled at Joan.

  “I’ll get you home as soon as I can, so you can get some rest. The nurse should be in to sign you out right away, according to Dr. Martin. I’ll hang out with you until then. They’ll probably insist on a wheel chair, as usual, but better safe than sorry.” Maryanne remarked.

  “I don’t feel too bad. I’m a little weak, but the sedative is still in my system, so I like the wheel chair idea, too.” Within thirty minutes, she checked out and was on her way to the exit, where Maryanne met her in the car. The hospital staff helped Joan into the car and closed the door.

  “I think you should stay at my place tonight so I can take care of you and bring you back home in the morning, if you feel up to it. I have some chicken soup from Health Food Mart. I’ll warm it up and you can sit back, sip and relax. You know what they say about chicken soup. Then you can get a good night’s sleep, and I insist you turn off your cell.” Maryanne convinced Joan.

  “Sounds like a plan, Maryanne. I think the rest will do me good, and I appreciate the offer.” With that they gathered up Joan’s belongings and left for Maryanne’s.

  2

  Maryanne got out and went to Joan’s side of the car. “Let me help you inside, just in case you’re light-headed from the sedative.” She held her arm for support, though Joan seemed to be doing quite well. She unlocked the door of her house, picked up Joan’s small bag, and moved aside after turning on the lights, allowing Joan to enter first.

  “Here we are; my humble abode. Come sit down, and I’ll heat up the soup while you rest on the recliner. You already know how comfortable it is, and you’ll probably be asleep by the time I return.” Joan settled back into the soft leather chair, and Maryanne threw a small cover across her before she went into the kitchen.

  She soon returned with soup and chamomile tea, setting it down beside her on a small end table. Placing a tray in front of her, she carefully handed her the steamy mug of soup. “You’re still awake?” she kidded, trying to keep up beat despite the earlier incident. “Here, just sip it. The tea will be next to you when you’re ready. When you’re finished, I have the bed turned down, and you can get a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Thank you so much, Maryanne. You’re a true friend.”

  “That’s what good friends are for, isn’t it? We’re really more like sisters anyway, as far as I’m concerned. You’re the only real family that I have, Joan. There is no one left in my family that I am even remotely connected to.”

  Joan finished her soup and sipped on tea until she was relaxing into a peaceful sleep mode. Maryanne cleared the tray and walked with her to the guest room.

  Joan suddenly stopped. “Maryanne, I almost forget to tell you; I got a call from the homeowner’s sister, Mrs. Dirkshire. She said her brother, Mr. Farthington, passed away last week. He was the legal owner of the Valencia, and she wanted to talk to me as soon as possible, knowing I would be showing it soon. She said it was important. She will be at my office first thing in the morning, at seven. Should I call her and cancel, or do you think we can we make it there in time?”

  Maryanne looked puzzled. “No problem at all. I’m worried more about how you feel. If you aren’t ready, I can call and cancel the appointment, early in the morning. I hate to rush you too soon. You really should take it easy for a couple of days.”

  Joan interjected, “Honestly Maryanne, I feel fine. I will be more than okay in the morning. Just one more thing, though. I had been going through some papers and found new information on the house. I was going to tell you about it when I called you at the Manor, but you know the distractions took priority and I just forgot.” She laughed. “I’ll show you everything when we get back to my office tomorrow. Maybe we can find something relevant. Mr. Farthington said those papers were important when he listed the Valencia. I had really forgotten about them until all this happened. The big question is; why would someone sneak into my office and hit me on the head unless they wanted something? Ther
e was nothing gone or disturbed from my purse or personal items in the desk. It’s really got me baffled.”

  “Detective Ramos assured me they are searching and documenting any-and everything that could be relevant to this attack. We’ll be more informed in a day or two when the police make their determination, so don’t think about it tonight. As far as the papers you have, we’ll go through them tomorrow and see what information there is regarding the Valencia Manor. I am sure we’ll be more informed when we finish. You my dear, must relax and get to bed, or you won’t feel up to it. We’ve got plenty of time to do any research and not hurry. You don’t need to think about anything right now.” Maryanne made another gesture toward the guest room.

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thanks, Maryanne, and good night.” She retired to the guest room with hopes of a quiet and restful night.

  Around eleven thirty p.m., Detective Ramos was cruising by Maryanne’s house checking the neighborhood and thinking about Maryanne. He had been quite impressed with her when he met her. He felt a warm connection and those green eyes were captivating. He had taken the address where the ladies were staying in case any information was needed concerning the attack. He also promised he would keep a good eye out since Joan was the victim. When he stopped in front of Maryanne’s house to check it out, he noticed the lights were still on, and decided to stop in. It was late, and he was a little concerned. He was also a little interested.

  Maryanne heard three loud knocks on the door. “Who is it?” Maryanne peered through the peephole in the old door, which was not much help.

  “It’s Detective Ramos, Miss O’Donnell. Sorry to bother you at this hour, but I saw your lights on and wanted to make sure everything is fine here. I should have called first, but I’m impulsive sometimes. Just wanted to make sure you ladies were safe.” She recognized his deep voice on the other side of the door. She unlocked the deadbolt, opened the door a few inches, and then invited him inside.