by James Hunt
“Looks like we’re back in business,” Lindsy said.
Mike shut the door, and the pair met the woman halfway between the RV and the house.
“Carla?” Lindsy asked before they were close enough to shake hands.
“Yes, and you must be Lindsy,” Carla said, an eagerness to her voice. “Thank you so much for coming. And for getting out here so quickly.”
Carla Maples was tall, and Lindsy noticed the athletic frame despite having recently given birth. Lindsy also noted the dark circles under Carla’s eyes, the greasy strands of hair, and the dirt on her clothes and shoes. Carla looked like she hadn’t slept or showered in days. But what she noticed most was the pain she felt when she shook Carla’s hand. It was a pain founded on heartbreak and loss. “We were close to the area already. This is my husband, Mike.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mike said.
“You too,” Carla replied. “I apologize for my husband, Daniel. I hadn’t told him about you because… Well, because he thinks all of this is a bit crazy.” She clasped her hands together, and she laughed nervously, but it was cut short by a small whimper.
“It’s hard to wrap your head around the paranormal,” Lindsy said. “Happens to everyone.”
Carla breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Um, come inside, and I’ll, well, I don’t know what to do.” The nervous laugh returned, but Lindsy recognized the pain behind it. The poor mother could only chuckle to stop herself from crying.
“We’ll head inside and talk to you a little more about what’s been going on,” Lindsy said.
Thankful for the direction, Carla led Mike and Lindsy past a still-growling husband who looked at Lindsy and Mike the way a lion might consider a pair of hyenas, and into the house.
The inside of the house wasn’t in much better condition than the exterior. The rot seemed to have penetrated to the house’s bones. It smelled of dust and mold inside, the wallpaper peeling off and tarnished. But the home still possessed all of the grand visuals of its heyday.
The foyer was large and welcoming, allowing guests to split off into three different directions. The left took them into a living room where furniture was still draped in sheets, and the right held a large dining room where an old wood table seated twelve chairs. Straight ahead was the staircase to the upper floors.
“I know it’s a bit of a mess,” Carla said.
“It’s fine,” Lindsy downplayed the appearance. “You should see our RV. It could probably fit in this foyer.”
Carla smiled and then glanced at her husband, who still wore his steely expression. “Well, we can sit at the dining table. It’s probably the cleanest area of the house.”
Lindsy and Mike sat on one side of the table while Carla sat opposite them. Daniel stood. With just the three of them sitting at the end of the table, the space felt incredibly lopsided.
Carla fidgeted nervously in her seat. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Just start at the beginning,” Lindsy said reassuringly. “When did you first notice something was different with the house?”
“Can’t you just read our minds for that?” Daniel asked, his tone thick with sarcasm.
Carla snapped at her husband. “Be nice.”
“No, it’s fine,” Lindsy said, trying to remain amicable. “We get that all of the time. What I do, my abilities, they’re finite. I can’t read someone’s mind outright, but I can catch glimpses of what they’re thinking, or what they’ve seen and experienced. Sometimes I’m even able to see pieces of their future, though that’s never as concrete as people would hope.”
“Can you…” Carla swallowed. “Feel anything now?”
Lindsy knew she needed to tread carefully. If she showed her hand too early, it could frighten both of them to the point of kicking them out. But if she didn’t show enough, they might ask her to leave because they would be convinced she was a fraud.
“I’m not getting a lot from the house,” Lindsy said, glancing around the room. “It’s old, and most old places have a history it likes to keep buried.” She focused her attention on Carla. “But I can see the night of your daughter’s abduction, through you.”
Carla’s eyes widened, but Daniel scoffed, and Lindsy knew she would need to prove herself now.
“There’s a blue clock by your nightstand,” Lindsy said, looking to Daniel now. “It was three twenty-two when you woke up. Your daughter, Angela, was sleeping in the crib next to the window. You had swaddled her in a monogrammed pink blanket gifted to her by your sister.”
“Oh my god,” Carla said.
“I’m not here to swindle anyone,” Lindsy said. “I’m here to help, and the best way for me to help is to have all of the information about what’s happened. And it’s more efficient if I hear it from you.”
Daniel didn’t say anything else, but he remained standoffish.
“So,” Lindsy said, returning her attention back to Carla. “Why don’t you start from the beginning.”
Carla cleared her throat, continuing to wring her hands while she spoke. “Daniel and I are from Cincinnati. This house belonged to my aunt. She was very wealthy, but she never lived here. This was one of several properties that she owned, and she left property to each of her nieces and nephews.”
“That was kind of her,” Lindsy said.
“It was,” Carla said. “Daniel and I had been saving for a home, but we hadn’t found anything we liked in the city. We had both talked about moving, but finding work somewhere else was difficult. And then when we were given this house, free and clear save for the taxes every year, and insurance, we thought this was our chance. We both grew up in Cincinnati, and while neither of us particularly disliked the city, we both wanted to get closer to nature. And when we saw pictures of the landscape, we couldn’t turn it down.”
Lindsy smiled. “Sounds like a dream come true.”
“We thought so.” Carla reciprocated the smile but then twisted her mouth in grief. “But, I guess the adage of being careful what you wish for is true.” She wiped her eyes and then clasped her hands together tightly. “When we moved out here three months ago, I was eight months pregnant, so we had to drive out here with all of our stuff. Didn’t have any trouble the whole trip. But then, when we arrived at the house, things felt a little… odd.
“At first, we thought it was just the move, you know? Being in a new place could be difficult for some people, so that’s what we chalked it up to.” Carla leaned forward, lowering her voice as if the house could hear them speaking. “But I felt things here. Strange things. Like someone was watching us. And they wanted something from us.”
“Did you ever see anything?” Lindsy asked.
“Not until three weeks ago when—” Carla covered her mouth, stifling a whimper as she struggled to regain control of her emotions. “When she took my baby.” She broke down, and Daniel approached her from behind, placing his large, gentle hands on her shoulders.
“We were both asleep when Angela was taken,” Daniel said, his tone softening, no doubt due to his wife’s distress. “The moment I woke up, I immediately called the police, and Carla sprinted outside to see if she could find her.”
Carla took a few deep breaths and then forced her tears into submission. “When I went outside, I could hear her crying for me. So I followed her and—” She took another breath, “—went deeper into the woods. And that’s when I saw her. A woman dressed in a white nightgown, and she was holding Angela.”
Lindsy kept her attention focused on Carla, but she felt Mike’s stare from the side, which she ignored. “You’re sure this woman was holding her?”
Carla nodded and then wiped her upper lip. “You think I’m crazy.”
“No, I don’t.” Lindsy reached for Carla’s hand. “I believe you.”
“Have you spoken to the police?” Mike asked.
“We did, but those people haven’t done anything,” Carla answered, growing angry. “They came out here, asked a few questions, and then started accusing us o
f doing something to our child. Can you imagine that? I would never do anything to hurt my child!”
“They haven’t provided us with any leads,” Daniel answered, his tone less hysterical than his wife’s. “And every time we try to follow up, they just keep telling us they’re working on it.”
Carla squeezed Lindsy’s hand. “Please. You have to help us. We’ve tried everything, but because we’re new in town, people don’t trust us. We tried to organize a search party, but only three other people showed up, and one of them was a deputy with the sheriff’s office working the case. I have to find my daughter.”
Lindsy kept hold of Carla’s hand. “The woman you saw. Can you describe what she looked like?”
Carla’s eyes lit up with recognition. “I can do better than that.” She stood, keeping hold of Lindsy’s hand as she led them out of the kitchen and to a basement door that led downstairs.
Carla neared the bottom of the stairs and flicked on a light. When Lindsy joined her at the bottom, she slowed, her eyes widening in surprise.
The basement had been converted into a makeshift art studio, and while there were dozens of paintings, they all held the same face.
“Here.” Carla picked up one of the paintings from the easel and handed it to Lindsy. “That’s her. That’s the woman who took my child.”
Lindsy examined the picture. The woman was dressed in a white gown, with long black hair, pale complexion, and dark eyes.
“I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since I saw her,” Carla said. “I thought painting it would help get rid of it, but it hasn’t helped. No matter how many times I do it.”
“Did you show this to the police?” Lindsy asked.
Carla nodded. “They didn’t recognize her.”
Lindsy studied the painting a little longer, noting the skill with the brush. “This is very good.”
“Thanks,” Carla said. “I went to school for art. I was hoping this place would be a start for me where I could focus more on my painting. Daniel helped build the studio space for me.”
Lindsy handed the painting back to Carla. “If it’s all right, Mike and I would like to have a look around. It helps if I can get a better feel for the physical space.”
“Of course,” Carla said. “Whatever you need.” And then, like everyone else Lindsy worked with, Carla leaned forward and grabbed hold of Lindsy’s hand. “Can you help us then? Can you find our little girl?”
Lindsy knew what she wanted to say, but she had been doing this job long enough to know that getting people’s hopes up was a mistake, and making false promises could lead to trouble down the road. “We’ll do everything we can.”
It wasn’t the guarantee Carla had wanted to hear, and it broke Lindsy’s heart to see the mother’s hope dim.
Carla whimpered. “Thank you.”
Lindsy smiled and then looked at Mike, who was studying one of the paintings. And then she noticed Daniel staring at her, his expression slightly dubious.
They would have their work cut out for them here.
4
“So, what do you think?” Mike asked once they were out of the house and back by their RV.
Lindsy had a lot of thoughts rushing through her head, but until she managed to get a better feel for the house and what might be haunting the Maples, she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. “I think they’re both frightened, and they’re dealing with it in their own way.”
“Did you feel anything inside?” Mike asked.
“No,” Lindsy answered.
“Do you think they’re telling the truth?”
It was a question Mike always asked at the beginning of a new case. They had run across their fair share of people who only believed they were haunted, when in fact, the situation was perfectly explainable. But until Lindsy was sure that there was no ghostly presence here, she wasn’t going to pass judgment.
“You have to be thinking what I am after what they said,” Mike said. “Ghosts don’t abduct people.”
“Just because we haven’t seen something like that happen before doesn’t mean it can’t,” Lindsy said. “The paranormal is… surprising.”
“It’s been three weeks since their daughter was taken,” Mike said. “And if their daughter was taken by something paranormal, then the child would be dead by now. And ghosts can’t—”
“Kill people, I know,” Lindsy said. “That’s what makes all of this so strange.”
“Okay, let’s just pretend that the Maples are telling us the truth, and their daughter was abducted by a haunting,” Mike said. “For a ghost to do something like that requires a level of manipulation of the physical plane that we’ve never seen before.”
Over the years, Lindsy had done her best to understand her abilities, but she didn’t necessarily understand everything she saw. But, she and Mike had worked out a theory of two realms, bumping up against one another without even realizing it. The points where the two realms touched caused hauntings.
“I think we need to get to work,” Lindsy said.
Mike sighed and opened the camper side door. “All right. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“Hey,” Lindsy said, stopping him before he completely immersed himself in research the way he did whenever they started a new case. He turned around, eyebrows raised in that surprising way he looked whenever he was listening intently. It always made her smile. “I know this isn’t the kind of cabin retreat you were hoping for.”
Mike smirked. “Yeah, well, you have to roll with the punches, right?”
“Right,” Lindsy answered.
“Be careful in there,” Mike said, looking past Lindsy and toward the house. “I might not be psychic, but even I can tell there’s something about this place that isn’t right.”
“I will,” Lindsy said.
The pair kissed one more time and then went their separate ways. It was how they started all of their cases together, with Lindsy looking into the paranormal aspect, while Mike studied the history of the region. More often than not, there was always a link somewhere in the past that could help explain what was happening in the present.
It was a job Mike was aptly suited for since he had been a history teacher before they had met. It was a job he loved, and it was difficult for him to step away from it, but he had done it for her. It was one of the many things she would never be able to repay him for in kind, even though he never asked for payment.
Carla had given Lindsy free rein of the house, and the mother wandered back outside to continue her search for the baby. If the house was indeed haunted, ghosts typically limited themselves to the area of the house, and maybe a little bit of the grounds. But the fact that the ghost had taken a child was a clear indication that if this was a haunting, it was something different and new.
Yet as Lindsy walked through the massive home, she couldn’t get a sense of anything. She touched walls, pictures, doors, furniture, but she wasn’t able to pick up any paranormal activity.
The first level of the house Lindsy inspected seemed to be where Carla and Daniel lived, while the upper floors were being renovated. She followed the sound of a saw into one of the rooms on the third floor, where she found Daniel cutting a piece of wood to fit the trim around a new window.
Sawdust covered the floor, and Daniel stopped when he noticed Lindsy’s presence. “You need something?”
Lindsy shook her head, trying to get a better read on the husband. “Are you in construction?”
“Carpentry, yeah,” Daniel answered. “That’s one of the reasons why Carla and I decided to come out here. I could fix the place up, and she could work on her art. Then, if we got into trouble, we’d just sell it.” He removed his gloves and grimaced. “So much for all of that nonsense.”
“What do you mean?” Lindsy asked.
“You had to have seen the town when you drove through,” Daniel answered. “Everything here is dying. I could smell it the moment we arrived.” He tossed his gloves down on the sawhorses, and a puff of d
ust plumed into the air, caught by the light from the window. Lindsy watched the tiny particles swirl around.
“Then why’d you stay?” Lindsy asked.
“Because Carla was excited,” Daniel said, and his voice quietened as he added, “I’d do anything to make her happy.”
Lindsy looked past Daniel and to the window which had a nice view of the woods. “Does Carla search for the baby often?”
“Every day,” Daniel answered.
“Alone?” Lindsy asked.
“You’re saying that I don’t want to look for my daughter?” Daniel asked, agitated.
“I’m just trying to get a better understanding of how the two of you have coped with the disappearance of your daughter.”
Daniel laughed. “You’re unbelievable. You people just come out here, telling us how you’ve seen the dead, and there are spirits all around us, and you fill my wife’s head with all of this hope, and it’s bullshit!” he shouted, and spittle flew from his mouth. “It’s been three weeks since Angela disappeared. She’s an infant. You tell me how in the world a baby is going to survive out there in the woods for three weeks.” He snatched the gloves off of the boards and slipped them back on. “She’s gone. The sooner my wife accepts that fact, the sooner she can grieve, and we can be done with this fucking place.”
The pain and anger in Daniel were evident. But beneath all of that, Lindsy was starting to sense something else. He was hiding something.
“Everyone grieves in their way,” Lindsy said, even though Daniel was ignoring her. “And I don’t think it’s wrong for either of you to think that your daughter is still alive.”
Daniel stopped with his hands on the saw. He turned back to look at her, frowning. He said nothing else and then returned to his work.
Lindsy walked away, going through the rest of the rooms, the sound of the buzzsaw filling the house. While Lindsy continued to walk through the house, there wasn’t much left for her to see aside from the attic, and it was there she finally felt something.
