by Sharon Hays
“Oh my God! Maryanne! Maryanne, it’s you! Please wake up, it’s Mario. I’m here to help you. You’re going to be fine.” He could not believe this unrecognizable human was his precious Maryanne. “Please, try to wake up.” He splashed more water onto her face, pushing her hair back to reveal her bruised and soiled face. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. She was in a bad state of malnutrition and needed medical attention soon. He cradled her in his arms, unable to awaken her completely. She stirred off and on, which gave Mario hope that she was not in too serious a condition. “I’m going to take you home, Maryanne. Don’t worry any more. You are going to be just fine,” he comforted her, hoping she was able to understand that it was him. Then, with no warning, the door slammed shut, and the light disappeared from the escape door. He jumped up and tried to grab the stairs, but they had been pulled up, and he was unable to reach them. He was disappointed in himself, letting his emotions get in the way of his work. Had he been on full alert, he would have taken more care in watching for someone other than the victim, but he was overcome when he saw her and let the moment draw him in. He stood on the floor just below the exit, wondering and planning his next move. He knew Maryanne had little time to survive this unbelievable terror, so he calmed himself, aware he had to act quickly and diligently. The flashlight was still working, there was water, and he would begin to investigate every corner of this room. He again dialed 91, but there was still no signal. He would try again later. He was hopeful that the backup unit would arrive soon and find them.
After searching the room, he returned to Maryanne, hoping for some positive signs. He continued to hydrate her, hoping to get a response. He had discovered some bread, which from what he could tell was not that old. Someone had at least been giving her some nutrition. This added to his feeling of hope. She responded by trying to drink a small amount of the water, still not able to open her eyes.
“Please let me out of here. Don’t hurt me,” she managed to speak with a raspy whisper.
“Maryanne, you’re going to be all right! It’s Mario. It’s me, Mario! Please wake up. I need to get you on your feet. We are going to get you out of here soon and take you home.” She was in a state of shock and he had to work fast.
“Mm…Mario,” she barely spoke, but he felt somehow that she would be okay.
“Yes, it’s me. Mario. I am so glad to see you. I’ve been worried about you! You’re going to be fine now. I have come to take you home.” He was half crying, half laughing and overcome with a combination of worry and joy.
“Mario, I thought you would never come,” she managed to speak in a whisper. “I’m so glad to see you!” Tears fell down her soiled cheeks, making little trails all the way down to her chin.
He cradled and rocked her, giving her comfort, knowing hope was in their favor.
After several minutes, she fell asleep again, and he covered her with the dirty rags and blankets. Cushioning her head with the pillow, he began his plan for escape. Every few minutes, he checked to reassure himself that Maryanne was still all right. Soon, he would try to get her up and help her climb the ladder to freedom.
The noise of cables squeaking and the dumbwaiter started upward and away from their view. The light disappeared and then he heard it stop. Almost immediately the cables were returning and Mario thought the team was here to help, at last. Then the door opened, and he saw the creature hunched over, staring into the darkness, at them. He pointed his light into its face, revealing a monstrous, glassy-eyed horror. He noticed the long, disheveled hair almost to its hips. It was bent over, and its breathing was shallow and raspy. He reached toward his holster. The door closed abruptly. He heard something hit the ground just before it closed. As his light shown across the floor in front of the door, he discovered a bag and opened it up to find bread and beans. He was puzzled at what he had discovered, but quickly took the bag to Maryanne. There were two small cans of baked beans with pull-off lids. Mario quickly pulled one open and took the spoon off the tray beside Maryanne and began to feed her.
“Do you know who that was?” he questioned Maryanne.
“She tried to explain about the creature and he softly put his hand over her mouth. Don’t talk, it’s okay. Try to eat as much as you can. She made an attempt to chew and swallow the food, but quickly shook her head. “I can’t eat any more. That’s enough for now.”
Mario realized she had not had much nutrition, and he would feed her more, a little at a time. Slowly, she would get her strength back. Meanwhile, he continued his plight for escape, knowing there had to be a way out of this disgusting hell-hole. Mario resumed digging, picking, and scraping the walls, making grooves into the rock so he could reach the door and the ladder to freedom. He had already cut two holes into the wall. He thought one more would get him there. If he could get the ladder down, all he would have to do is pry open the door, and he could take Maryanne out of harm’s way, to safety. Hopefully he could pull the dumbwaiter back down from where he was.
Maryanne stirred again, “Mario, come here. I have to tell you something.” Her throat was dry and scratchy, and it was difficult to hear, but she managed to make the words clear enough for him to understand.
“Yes, Maryanne, what is it? What are you trying to tell me?”
She whispered the words, slowly. “The being. The one you just saw. The stranger who captured and kept me in this place, I think, is someone who must have been abused or held captive in this house at some time after it became vacant.…She continued whispering, taking in deep breaths in between sentences. The emotions I have felt coming from the heart of this person is terribly sad…. It appears to be confused and lonely. Someone must have treated it badly, and left it alone here, causing it to remain isolated in this dreary house for how long, nobody knows. Before we rush and make a mistake, hurting or even killing it, we must make every attempt to help it and be careful how it is captured—if we manage to make it out of here. Do you think that’s possible, Mario?”
He looked at her. “I can’t figure you out. Someone keeps you in a hole in the ground for two weeks, barely feeding you or giving you help, no light to speak of, and then you are feeling empathy for this creature. Where is that coming from? I am concerned about you, Maryanne, but right now is not the time to be worried about a hideous monster, but to get you out of here and deal with it as it comes. I understand you are a good and compassionate woman, but because you have had no contact with the outside world for so long, that is most likely the reason behind your feeling compassion for this monster who has abused you. That is what we are dealing with here. Once I get you out of here, I will do the best I know to handle the capture in the most humane and proper way, I assure you. You trust me, don’t you?” He tried to explain the ramifications of captivity to her as he was taught, not only in the Marines, but also as an officer of the law.
“Being in captivity can change one’s entire thinking. Once captive and under someone else’s complete domination, a person can become sympathetic to their captor. I hope you understand what I am trying to tell you, Maryanne.” He paused and stared at her, hoping for her understanding. “Here, drink some water and try to eat a little more. I need for you to get some nutrition and strength so we can get you up that ladder when the time is right. It isn’t going to be easy.”
She drank and ate more each time he fed her and was showing increased signs of improvement. He poured water onto one of the rags and gently cleaned her face and lips as her beautiful face emerged through the grime that had accumulated.
She began to show signs of revival. “Mario. Thank you for your help. I would have died in here if you hadn’t found me.”
As they huddled together for warmth, he cradled her in his arms and they fall asleep. ‘Perchance to dream’?
37
Joan called Mario several times, but there was no answer and his mailbox was full. When she spoke to Chief Olson, he told her to stay away from the Manor. They had a full crew there. No evidence of Mario yet, but he had confi
dence there would be a breakthrough soon.
“Get some sleep, Joan. There’s nothing you can do. Sit tight and I’ll call you if anything happens. I promise.” Chief Olson tried to reassure Joan that things were under control and to ease her worries. He was concerned that she may want to return to the Valencia and perhaps get hurt or worse.
“Thanks Chief. I’ll lay down for awhile. Remember; call me no matter how late!” Joan fell back against the sofa and covered herself with a small throw from the back of the chair. Uneasy, restless, and not able to sleep, she read for an hour hoping to relax. When that didn’t help, she turned on the coffeepot. After drinking two cups of coffee and finishing her latest mystery novel, she took a shower and had some breakfast while she prepared a list for the day. She called Marshall Hanover and convinced him to meet her for lunch at Dalia’s. She wanted to get his perspective on paranormal activity, since he had experience in investigating haunted houses and supernatural phenomenon. When the police finished their investigation, if they had not found Mario or Maryanne, hopefully Marshall could intervene and possibly help. She had not told him about Father Martucci yet. Father Martucci had been released from the hospital and was doing fine now, but she did not want him to return to the Valencia because she was afraid for his safety. Marshall assumed this meeting had something to do with the sale of his villa, and he agreed to meet Joan there shortly after lunch.
Marshall arrived at Dalia’s Deli, where Joan was waiting in a booth, studying the menu. He greeted her with his infectious smile and sat down. “Did everything check out on the sale?” he asked. “We’re supposed to close in three weeks, right?” His blue eyes sparkled as he looked across the table inquisitively, his brow wrinkled with worry as he waited for a reply. “You look a little unraveled, Joan. What’s going on?”
“First of all, yes. The sale is all in order and everything is going as it should, but that’s not why I asked you here. It’s something else entirely, and if you are not interested, please feel free to tell me. I will totally understand.” She took a deep breath before explaining. “When you were talking to Mr. Livingston, you both mentioned that you had some interest and experience in supernatural phenomenon and haunted mansions. I did not mean to pry, but you spoke quite openly about it, and I have some questions about a particular property here in Boulder. I thought you may be able to shed some light on the Valencia Manor, or share any knowledge you may have of its connections to the paranormal. I recently listed the Valencia Manor for sale, and there have been some very peculiar occurrences in the house and around the property, and it seems with anyone recently connected to it. That is, at least since I became the broker. In doing research, history reveals a great many unusual occurrences, such as accidental deaths of the people who built the Manor, and unusual deaths and accidents to people who resided there. There seems to be an unusual amount of unnatural or abnormal activity. There have been many strange things, including an incident with my friend, Maryanne O’Donnell, who was abducted and is still missing. As of last night, Mario, who is the detective on the case, has disappeared. I could go on, but I want first to know if you are aware of any such phenomenon, or if it is purely coincidental. I know that was a mouthful, but if you are interested, I can be more explicit.” She sat back, feeling exhausted and worried.
He smiled and then turned thoughtful. “My, you are direct and to the point. I can understand your concern. I am sorry to hear about your friend and the detective, and yes, I have heard some things and read a little about them. And yes, I would be very interested in finding out more and possibly doing a little so-called, ghost hunting on the property, if it should deem worthy of that. I would like to get the information and articles you have read, and then have you explain to me your experiences at the Manor and any others that could be helpful.”
“Are you going to order?” A cute, blonde server approached the table. “Yes, I am.” Marshall answered. “Joan, what do you suggest?”
“As for me, I am not the least bit hungry under the circumstances, but try the wraps. They are quite good, and I’ll have an iced tea with lemon, please.
“Sure, I’ll have a chicken wrap and the vegetable soup, Miss.” He smiled politely at the young server, who was obviously impressed with his good looks and blushed slightly, as she finished his order and scurried away like a giggling school-girl. Joan continued to fill Marshall in on recent events.
“Right now, Detective Ramos is at the Manor and possibly in trouble. No one has been able to locate him or contact him by cell. Father Martucci is in the Boulder Hospital because I asked him to intervene with a Catholic ritual of cleansing the house, exorcism, or however you want to refer to it. I feel responsible for his unfortunate incident, and I am willing to do whatever it takes. That includes bringing in a psychic, if warranted.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Yes, I am positive,” Joan answered with conviction. “I never thought I would even approach such a subject personally, but at this point it seems like the only means left of finding Mario and Maryanne. I will do whatever it takes, no matter how extreme or ridiculous it may appear.”
He looked very somber. “I’ll do the research on the Valencia and help in any way that I can. I have had a lot of experience with such phenomenon, but not as the actual person with the second sight, the medium. I know of a physic that can help us. She is very good, authentic, and not a fraud. There are some out there who claim to have a gift when all they want is your money. I have certainly done my homework on this woman and worked with her several times. I’ll call her and we can set up a meeting at the house as soon as possible. If Detective Ramos and your friend are missing, we really need to get on it as quick as we can. When do you propose we start?”
“Tonight would be great if the chief of police hasn’t found them and if the police are finished inside the Manor, but I doubt you could commit yourself on such short notice.”
“Are you kidding me? I will be there. Just give me a little time.”
To Joan’s surprise and gratitude, Marshall was anxious and willing. She checked her watch and glanced at the sky. “Let’s plan to meet at six o’clock, while it’s still a little light out, unless I get a call from the chief and he has good news. I’ll let you know either way. But there are no lights on at all in the Manor, so we need flashlights and lanterns.”
“Okay then, Miss Bishop. See you at six at the Valencia, unless you call and cancel.”
“Absolutely.”
“So when did Detective Ramos last go to the Valencia?”
“We got there at seven last night and as I explained, it was excessively intense for me. The place was going nuts! I had to get out of there and Mario walked me out to my car, where I locked myself inside. When he went back in, Father Martucci was out cold. Someone had struck him, or at least that’s what it appears. Then I went inside, and he told me to go home, and I did. Then, they called and told me he was not there, and no one has heard from him since then. It may not be supernatural, but everything points to it being exactly that.”
Marshall let his held breath out slowly. “That’s where my friend, Vivian Gilbreth’s expertise is. I will call her when I get home. I am sure she’ll jump on this. She is familiar with the place, but has not been inside. Just a second, I’ll try calling her right now and if she agrees, she’ll have a little more time to prepare.” He dialed and waited, giving her a reassuring look. “Hello Vivian. This is Marshall Hanover…I am fine and you? Good. I have a very interesting person here you may want to meet. It concerns the old Valencia Manor in Boulder. We need someone to help in an abduction case. Are you available this evening around six?” Marshall smiled and looked over at Joan, offering a thumbs-up. She made a quiet clapping gesture. “I will see you there at six sharp, Vivian. Looking forward to working with you again. Thank you ever so much.” He hung up with a quick nod.
“Looks like we have ourselves a psychic, Joan!”
“Fantastic, Marshall! You eat your lunch; you
’re going to need it for the coming events.” Marshall took a bite of the wrap and gave her thumbs up on suggesting it. Then he enjoyed every morsel. After he finished chewing, he commented with a satisfied look,
“I think that will hold me over. I am quite full.” Joan hugged him and thanked him for his interest and offer to help.
“See you at six, Marshall.” “I’ll be there.”
They walked across the street to Joan’s office and Chief Olson was sitting in his car. He rolled his window down.
“Hi Joan, I stopped by to let you know that we haven’t heard from Detective Ramos since I spoke to him early this morning. I have a few officers over there now. They’re going through the house. Have been for a few hours. They’ll be back by five, and I’ll let you know if there’s any news. That house gives me the creeps!”
“I hope he turns up soon. It’s not like him, and I’m hoping it’s a false alarm.” She had been waiting to hear from him since noon. “It was nice of you to come by, Chief. Have you met Marshall Hanover? He’s one of my clients who just sold a property a few days ago.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hanover.” He reached his arm out to greet him.
“Nice to meet you, Sir,” Marshall reciprocated.
“Have to go back to the station.”” He backed out of the parking lot and sped off.
“I have to leave, Joan. It’s been good seeing you, and I certainly wish the circumstances were different, but I am looking forward to this evening. I am sure we will make some progress. I have a lot of faith in Vivian Gilbreth. She is a very impressive person with an unbelievable intuition. Her second sight ability is second to none; guaranteed.”
Joan returned to her office, checked the answering machine for new messages, and leaned back in her leather chair in an attempt to relax and keep a positive outlook on Mario’s unfortunate circumstance. She was anxious to get back to the Valencia for yet another supernatural experience.
