2 The Haunted Fixer-Upper

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2 The Haunted Fixer-Upper Page 13

by Rose Pressey


  The house had seemed big, lonely, and sad when we’d first found it, but little by little, it was becoming more welcoming. It was as if the house and whoever was in it was becoming comfortable with us. Amber was allowing us to be a part of her home. The wood trim adorning the house in every room didn't seem as dark and imposing suddenly. The walls seemed less stark and bare. The rooms were somehow illuminated with fat bars of sunshine. I needed to tell Amber right away that I would love and care for the home. And that was the truth, a house was a part of you, a part of the family, and it should be treated with care. It wasn’t just a place for shelter— it was so much more than that.

  Perhaps that was why some people couldn’t stand to leave their homes when they passed from this world. I had a lot of plans for the house and I knew a ghost would be apprehensive about someone coming in and making changes to their surroundings. A lot of the time the ghost just needed to be reassured that you weren’t going to do anything too drastic, like tear the place down or anything. I would never do anything like that. My job was to make it better, and that was what I planned to do. I had to make the place shine again, like it once had. When I was finished with the place, it would be happy and proud once again.

  Since I’d heard footsteps a lot in the house, I decided to try a little trick I’d learned for paranormal investigating. The best part was that it was incredibly inexpensive. There was no elaborate or fancy equipment needed, which was a good thing because I couldn’t afford that. My paranormal team back home had all the equipment. I’d been lucky enough to be included in their ghost-hunting team, but I didn’t have my own equipment. Well, other than the digital recorder that I used to try and capture voices from other dimensions.

  Sometimes the simple things were all that was needed when investigating the unknown. I wasn’t sure my powder plan would work, but I’d give it a try anyway. I’d bought a container of talcum powder at the store. I pulled it from my bag and went from room to room sprinkling it across the floor. I placed the white powder in all the pathways across the rooms. If anything walked through, I’d capture its prints. Believe it or not, ghosts’ prints could be captured this way, just the same as living beings.

  After I sprinkled the powder, I stuffed the container back in my bag. The sun would be setting soon and I wanted to get out of there before dark. Before leaving, I went from room to room checking to make sure the powder was still in place. Maybe I was a little too eager to see if I’d captured any evidence. But a watched pot didn’t boil so I knew I’d have to leave and come back tomorrow to check for evidence. It was good all the same though, I didn’t relish the idea of staying overnight in the house anyway. Even though I knew the ghost wouldn’t bother me and the house felt lighter, I knew that man was in the woods waiting for me. But the day would come when I’d have to stay overnight. What would I do? Leave every light in the house on all night?

  Once again I stepped out onto the porch. I tried not to look over at the woods. I figured if I ignored the man maybe he would go away. But it was better to know that he was there, I guessed. What if he decided to sneak up on me this time? He could be a deranged killer for all I knew, not just the ghost of a serial killer, but a real serial killer.

  I slowly glanced to my left and scanned the area. Please don’t let him be there watching me.

  Did he have some kind of surveillance on the place and know when I was there? Or did he just wait in the woods until he saw me drive up? Thank goodness I didn’t see him. Everything was quiet… oddly quiet. Even the branches on the trees remained still. I heard no noise and saw no movement. Where was he? Was he hiding in there where I couldn’t see him watching me? The thought made me shiver. I sure as heck wasn’t going to stick around to find out. I’d get the heck out of there before I had to chase him in the woods again. Because we all knew I would have to chase him. I was worried about him being a serial killer and yet I still followed him into his domain. I would be the first to admit that I had serious issues. I just couldn’t help myself.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  That evening I sat on the front porch of the cottage. Reed had gone to town so I took the opportunity to pull out the old yearbooks I’d found and study them. A flashback of me with streaks of blonde in my hair and a mouth full of braces came flooding back. My senior picture hadn’t turned out well.

  I sat in the rocking chair and placed my glass of sweet tea on the table next to me. The first book was from 1995 and had Davis High Mustangs written on the front with a silver horse embossed across it. I opened the cover and flipped through a few pages. It was just the typical yearbook with clubs, sports, and student life.

  I leafed through each year, looking for the picture of the previous owner of McKeeley Plantation. Finally I found her picture. Her smiling face looked back at me and a chill ran down my spine. Her long brown hair flowed past her shoulders and hung in soft curls around her face. Her big brown eyes sparkled. It was as if she was talking to me through the page. What did she want to say? Was she trying to tell me who was her killer? I recognized the shirt she wore in the picture too, only because it had flowers for buttons. It had been one of the blouses I’d found in the trunk.

  A thought hit me. I hadn’t even asked Reed if he’d gone to Davis High. Since he was older than me, he would have been in the yearbooks. I flipped the pages to his year and scanned the names until I came to O. He wasn’t there. Why hadn’t I asked what high school he’d attended? I’d have to ask Reed about Amber Gaines too. Had he known who was murdered in the house? And if so, why hadn’t he told me? Why was everyone so secretive about this crime? I was getting the sense that there might be a lot to hide.

  I flipped toward the back of the book until I reached the sections where clubs were listed. Amber had led the drama club. Her smiling face was in the group photo next to her students. She’d looked so happy and her life had been cut short. But there was another face in the group that I recognized right away. He didn’t have a smile on his face; it was more of a smirk. Maybe even a sneer. A younger Stan stared back at me. He had been in the drama club? He didn’t seem like the acting type. Then again, maybe he was a very good actor… the kind who could murder someone and hide the fact from everyone. Why hadn’t he mentioned knowing Amber? As soon as Reed returned, I intended on asking questions. He had to have at least had some knowledge of what had happened.

  Just as I closed the book, Reed pulled up. Jumping up, I hid the books behind the chair. I didn’t know why I felt the need to do that, but at any rate, I did. Maybe I wanted a chance to lead up to asking Reed about it rather than risking him spotting the books right away. Would he think I was snooping too much?

  Apparently I hadn’t moved quickly enough because as soon as Reed approached he said, “Were you just hiding something behind the chair?”

  Darn porch light. I should have turned it off.

  “I was just doing a little research,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Why do you have to get involved? Just let it go. You can’t solve this and you’ll end up getting hurt.”

  “Why are you acting this way?” I demanded.

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You don’t need to get involved in this, Alabama. Just let the police do their job. They have a little more experience than you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Yeah, right. Like I was going to listen to anything he said. Deep down Reed had to know that.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.” I glared at him.

  He blew out a deep breath. “No, I certainly can’t. Look, I don’t want to drag you into this mess.”

  “Don’t you think I should be the judge of that? Let me make that decision instead of doing it for me.”

  “Maybe buying this house wasn’t such a good idea.” He looked away and wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  His words had been like a slap to the face. Maybe I had pressured him into doing something he hadn’t wanted to do? I should have known better.

  “Well, we certainly don’t have to continue
this endeavor,” I said with as much venom as I could muster.

  He still didn’t look at me. “Maybe we shouldn’t continue.”

  His words stung.

  “If you think I’m giving up on this house then you had better think again. I don’t need you for this. I can do this on my own. I don’t need you, Reed O’Hara, do you hear me?” My voice grew louder with each word.

  He still didn’t look my way. Instead he turned around and stepped off the porch, then walked toward his truck.

  “Yeah, walk away. That’s exactly what I expected you to do.”

  Why was I still talking? Why didn’t I run after him and apologize? Instead I kept telling him how much I didn’t need him. I could do this on my own, but did I have to be so mean about it? He climbed in his truck, closed the door, turned the ignition, and pulled away. It looked as if I would be doing this on my own now. What had I done?

  ***

  The next morning as I pretended to eat a bowl of corn-flakes, I couldn’t get over how mean I’d been to Reed. Would he ever speak to me again? He’d left a note on the table for me stating that he would be in town for errands and he’d be at McKeeley Plantation later in the morning. I hadn’t heard him come back last night and I wasn’t sure if he’d even slept. Where had he gone? Anyway, at least it would give me time to go to the house and check the powder for footsteps.

  As thoughts of Reed and Gordon Millerton overwhelmed my mind, I tried but couldn’t come up with one single reason why Reed O’Hara would want to murder that man. He didn’t even know him. I needed to find out exactly what had caused Gordon’s death. There had been blood on the floor, but Reed didn’t have blood on him. The police had to have seen that. Why had Reed been holding the hammer? I hadn’t even asked him that. Why hadn’t I? Was I secretly afraid to find the answer?

  No, I was putting crazy thoughts into my own head. Of course Reed had nothing to do with the murder. There had to be a logical explanation as to why he had been holding the hammer. I pushed those thoughts from my mind and focused on finding the killer’s identity. I needed an inside source to get my information about the case. But I didn’t know anyone in this town. I’d only been to a few places with Reed since we’d arrived, but now that I was a property owner in the county, maybe I needed to mingle more. I should get out and socialize. Maybe I’d meet someone who could help me.

  I was anxious to check the powder. I wasn’t sure why I’d gotten my hopes up. I’d never successfully collected footprints using this method, but I’d known people who had. I was hoping that this would be my time.

  After slipping on shorts and a tank top, I left the cabin and hopped in my car. Only a few short hours after last night, I found myself in front of the plantation again. I stared up at the expanse of the house from my car, looking for any sign of the ghost peering out from the windows. The house and surrounding area was silent as if it had been sleeping and was just now yawning at the first rays of sunshine. I glanced in my rear-view mirror toward the woods. Would he be there this time?

  I wanted to hurry into the house and not look, but just as the night before, I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid at least a quick glance in that direction. It was like looking at a scary movie. You covered your eyes, but couldn’t help peeking through your fingers. Maybe the man was gone for good. That would be an excellent thing except I would never know what his story was. Some things are forever a mystery though. Perhaps this would be one of them.

  When I climbed out from behind the wheel, just as I knew I would, I looked over at the woods. There was no movement and no noise. It was like the calm before the storm. I knew that it was too quiet and that something big was about to happen. I felt it in the pit of my stomach like a boulder. It could happen in ten minutes, or it could be in two days, but I knew something would happen.

  Call me crazy, but the fact that he was nowhere in sight made me just as nervous as when he was standing there watching me. It felt like I was being hunted, as if he was watching me and hidden from view. That didn’t seem quite fair. Would he jump out and attack me? I still hadn’t shared with Reed about what I’d done when I’d gone into the woods. He would be upset and I couldn’t blame him. He was just worried for my safety. There had to be a way to find out where the man had gone though. Was there a house back there and how would I find out with that giant dog guarding the place? I doubted taking him a large bone would do the trick. I’d have to slip back in the woods the first chance I got.

  I hurried the rest of the way across the yard to the front door and rushed in the house. I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned back against the wood, letting out a deep breath of relief. At least I’d made it inside safely. This was crazy. I was now rushing in and out of the house as if a monster was chasing me. Heck, I felt safer inside the house with the ghost rather than outside with that weird stranger.

  I took in another deep breath to calm my nerves, then hurried toward the parlor. First I’d check the downstairs rooms to see if the powder had been disturbed. I figured I’d be more likely to catch the footprints down there than upstairs, even if I had heard the strange steps upstairs last night.

  As I walked into the room, my eyes were focused on the spot where I’d left the powder. Much to my chagrin, the fine layer of white dust remained exactly as I’d left it. I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Like I said, I hadn’t really expected to catch anything, but I’d had to give it a shot. If I hadn’t tried, I would have always wondered. Besides, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  I hurried from the parlor and made my way across into the dining room. Unfortunately the powder was untouched in that room as well. I moved through the downstairs of the house. It was eerily silent, but I was oddly at peace. The house made me feel safe from whatever or whoever might be waiting for me outside. As I made my way through the dining room, the sound of footsteps echoed above me. Someone was definitely playing a game of cat and mouse with me. How long would I let this spirit continue to toy with me like that?

  As the noise continued above me, I hurried around to the foyer. I paused to listen at the bottom of the steps. It sounded just as if someone was walking up there. Again the footsteps were heavy and sounded a lot like boots. I eased up the steps hoping to be quiet so that I could possibly sneak up on the ghost. Yeah, right, when did that every happen? Like I was really going to surprise a ghost. I didn’t want to make the ghost leave though.

  When I reached the top of the steps, the footsteps sounded as if they were headed down the hallway right toward me. I didn’t see anyone though.

  I called out, “Hello, who are you and what do you want?”

  Not surprisingly I didn’t get a response, but I hadn’t really expected one anyone. As soon as I made it halfway down the hall, the footsteps stopped. I froze on the spot, even holding my breath, and listened. But the ghost had definitely left. I had scared the ghost away after all.

  “You can come back,” I said.

  I rushed through the downstairs looking at all the spots where I’d left the powder, but each room had the same results. The spots had been untouched. Needless to say I was disappointed, but not surprised.

  After going through the bottom floor, I moved up the stairs. The house was silent, but I definitely felt eyes on me. It seemed as if whatever was watching me moved from room to room with me. I still thought that was better than facing the stranger outside.

  When I reached the top of the stairs and turned into the hallway, I let out a gasp. I honestly hadn’t expected to capture any evidence with my little experiment, but right there on the floor were footsteps trailing right through the powder. There was no denying what I saw. Had I locked the house tight? Was every window and door secured? It had to be the ghost, right? It couldn’t have been a living person. There was one problem with that theory though. The powder had stayed on the feet of whoever had stepped in it and left a trail around the entire upstairs until it had finally faded from their feet.

  I moved closer for a better look. The footpr
ints were big, definitely from a man’s foot, and it looked like the prints were from boots. I recognized the pattern from the boots because my father had worn the same style for years. They also had a logo with the brand on the soles too. I’d seen someone wearing that same style recently, but my memory was failing me now. Who had I seen wearing the boots?

  The footprints were men’s just as I’d thought the sound had come from a male. Were there two ghosts in the house? If so, why hadn’t I seen the male ghost? Was he hiding from me like the man in the woods? I had no way of knowing who he was and I’d probably never figure out who he was either. Why were there so many mysteries surrounding the plantation? A ghost wouldn’t have powder stick and move along with them for that long though. I suspected someone had been in the house. Reed didn’t have shoes like those though, so I knew it hadn’t been him.

  I pulled out my phone to click a few photos of the footprints. After I captured a few shots, a loud bang sounded from the room at the end of the hall. I paused with the phone in midair. My heart rate increased. Hearing noises when you couldn’t see the person making them never got any easier. It still sent a chill down my spine. It was strange to think that a spirit could be standing right next to you and you wouldn’t even know it.

  Just then, I spotted a wispy shadow moving into the bedroom on the left. There was something about that bedroom. It was the same room where I’d found the items. Was the ghost trying to tell me something? Maybe that was where the woman had been murdered. I shivered at the thought. Just imagining the horrific event made my stomach turn. What could the ghost be trying to convey? Did she want justice for her untimely and horrific demise? How could I possibly help her? I had no way of solving a years-old murder? But how could I tell her that? It wasn’t like she’d stop for a conversation.

  I stepped around the powder and headed toward the bedroom. What would Reed think when he saw white powder all over the house? That was if he came back to the house. If I cleaned the mess before he got there he’d never even know about my crazy little experiment. When I reached the end of the hall, I paused. I thought the noise had sounded from the room on the left—the same room where I’d found the trunk. Was there something else in the room that I’d missed? I thought I’d checked every possible spot where anything could have been hidden in there.

 

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