The Ghosts of Hanson House: A Haunting In Kingston Novella (The Hauntings of Kingston Book 5)

by Michelle Dorey

  The back of Emma’s neck tightened and she scowled. “I don’t know. What about Julia and Lily? We can’t take them!” There was no way she wanted her impulsive sister anywhere near the place if it was dangerous.

  “We have to! Lily won’t say anything. She’s just like me when it comes to spooky stories. How about Julia?” Grace’s mouth was a tight, determined line.

  Emma turned and looked at the lump in the top bed that was Julia. She’d have to keep an eye on her but...”She’s okay. She won’t tell. But I don’t like this, sneaking behind Grandpa’s back. You’ve got to promise me one thing, first. We don’t go inside! We just ride up to the driveway and go no further!”

  Grace held her hand up and crossed her fingers. “Scout’s honour! I promise, we just look around the outside.”

  Emma turned and slipped back into bed. Despite the fact it was a warm summer night, she felt a chill skitter up her spine. Part of her hated the fact that she agreed to sneaking over there to check things out, going against her grandpa’s wishes, yet...something was going on and she wanted to find out what that was. Maybe they’d be heroes if there was something illegal going on and they told their grandfather about it.

  Chapter 5

  Footsteps in the hallway roused Emma awake. Opening her eyes, she looked around in the room, disoriented in the dim light. She tensed before remembering she was at her grandparents farm. That must be them going downstairs.

  She sat up in bed and looked around the room. Through the window, threads of pink hung low on the horizon. She turned her head to look at the clock radio on the dresser to see it was only 5:10. She blanched. The sun wasn’t even up and her grandparents had already started their day?

  Oh boy.

  The call of nature cancelled the idea of rolling back under the covers. She thrust the coverlet back and stretched before inching herself up and out of the warm nest. The sound of soft snores filled the air around her sister, while the other set of bunk beds showed her cousins sleeping soundly. She tiptoed across the floor and grabbed her robe hanging on a hook.

  After finishing up in the bathroom, she walked softly down the stairs. All her life she was never able to go back to bed after her feet hit the ground. Besides, the smell of frying bacon made her mouth water.

  From the hallway she could see Nana, already fully dressed in a flowered blouse and dark pants, standing at the stove, cooking breakfast.

  Entering the kitchen, she stopped short and her eyes widened. Grandpa and the hired hand Frank were already eating at the table, with Frank at the head, watching her with inscrutable eyes. This was the first time she ever saw the man in the house, let alone sharing a meal. Up until then, he had always kept to his trailer at the end of the fields whenever her family had come up for a visit.

  Grandpa looked up from the set of newspapers he was reading and looked over the top of his reading glasses at her. “Good morning Emma! How’d you sleep?”

  “Hey Grandpa. Good, thanks.” She circled the table in the center of the room to her grandmother. “Hi Nana. Something smells good.”

  Nana smiled at her. “Help yourself to juice or milk. One egg or two?” She stepped over to the cupboard and took down more plates.

  Emma took her time getting a glass and then filling it with milk. From the corner of her eye she could see Frank take a forkful of egg and chew it, still watching her, sphinx like. When she turned, she nodded at him and murmured a ‘good morning’, to which he tilted his head. She sat next to him at the table, opposite Grandpa. Even so, she was too aware of Frank watching her. It was like he could see right into her, knowing every secret she’d ever had.

  Grandpa lifted his coffee cup. “I’m afraid, the forecast is rain for this afternoon. Bad for you girls, but the hay could sure use it.”

  Damn. That killed the plan to go swimming or exploring around the old abandoned house, although she wasn’t sure postponing the house visit was such a bad thing. The light she and Grace watched last night was sort of spooky. But then, maybe there was a good reason for it?

  “Grandpa?”

  He looked up from his paper. “Yes?”

  “Last night I saw a light shining in the window over at that old farmhouse. I thought you said it was deserted.” Under the table her fingers twisted the fabric of her terry robe.

  Grandpa and Frank exchanged a silent gaze. The smile had fallen from his face when Grandpa answered her. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you...but it must have been some trick of the light...maybe a reflection of the moon or something, because the Hanson place is empty. It’s condemned, even.” He shook his head. “I wish to hell the township would just tear the bloody thing down.”

  Frank dropped his fork on his plate; it made a dinging sound. “Was the light on the ground floor or up higher?” His voice was hoarse.

  Emma’s head jerked to look at him and her mouth fell open. It was the first time she’d ever heard him speak in her life, and he wanted to know about that light? He didn’t think it was a reflection, that was clear. “Higher,” she replied. Like the second floor or something.”

  Nana set a plate of bacon and eggs on the table before Emma with a clatter. She stood with her hands on her hips and let out a loud sigh. “Well?” She scowled at Grandpa, then at Frank. “Are you going to check that out? There shouldn’t be anyone over there.”

  The room went silent. Frank kept his eyes on Emma while Nana and Grandpa had a stare down. Like a shroud, the air in the room became thick with tension. Finally, Frank pushed back from the table and rose to his feet. “I’ll see to it, Abby,” he said in a deep, low voice. He brushed by Nana and left the room. After a moment, the back door banged shut.

  Nana, lips pressed together, shot another look at Grandpa and then turned to go back to the stove.

  Emma plucked a piece of bacon from her plate and looking down she chewed it slowly. What the heck was up with that? Maybe if she got Nana alone, she’d find out more.

  One thing she was certain of though...Grace would find that interchange pretty interesting.

  ***

  Emma didn’t get a chance to get alone with Grace until almost noon. The two girls were upstairs in their bedroom making the beds and tidying up while Julia and Lily were outside feeding the chickens and ducks.

  Grace stood at the rain spattered window pane, looking over the fields to the old house. “Someone’s over there! I can see someone walking around the yard!”

  Emma tossed the pillow back up onto the freshly made upper bed and wandered over to her cousin. “It’s Frank. He’s checking the property.”

  When Grace spun around to face her, her dark eyes were narrow. “What? Why do you think that?”

  Emma tiptoed over to the bedroom door and closed it softly. Grace was probably not going to be too pleased that she’d told their grandparents about the light. She walked back to the window to stand next to her cousin. “I asked Grandpa about the light we saw over there at breakfast. He tried to pass it off as an illusion but Frank and Nana were pretty interested, especially when I told him it looked like it was coming from the upper story. Nana was upset so Frank volunteered to go over to check it out.”

  Grace’s eyes widened as Emma spoke. She leaned into Emma and gripped her arm. “See? There is something weird about that place!” She turned and peered out the window again. “I’d love to see it. I just know it’s got to be haunted or something.” She sighed and with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, “It might be the only redeemable thing about this summer vacation.”

  Emma could feel her jaw muscle clench and she blurted it out before she could stop herself. “Do you have to be such a bitch? It’s their last summer here and they wanted us to be part of it! Can’t you think of someone else besides yourself for once?”

  The door opened and Nana stared at them. From the set of her tight mouth and narrow eyes she wasn’t pleased. “Girls! What’s going on in here?” She pierced Emma with her gaze. “Emma Baker! What would your father think hearing such language?”r />
  Emma felt her face redden. She stayed silent.

  Turning to Grace, Nana said, ‘The only redeemable thing, Grace? Is that how you really feel coming up here to visit us?”

  Grace’s mouth snapped shut, and she looked away while her own blush tinged her cheeks.

  Nana stepped into the room. “I heard you both when I was halfway up the stairs! What if your Grandpa or Frank heard you? They’re right outside you know.”

  Grace’s face turned towards the window again. “No he’s not. We can see him over at that old farm from here.” Her blush fading she turned her head back to Nana. “What’s the story about that place, Nana? We know it’s not just that it’s old and falling down. Someone is in there and you sent Frank to find out who.”

  Nana grimaced but she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “All right. I can see you’re not going to leave this alone.” She folded her arms over her chest. “But if I tell you the truth, you have to promise me that you won’t let on to your grandfather.”

  Emma and Grace shook their heads and in unison, “No, we won’t tell him. Promise.”

  Nana held up her finger, stopping them cold. “And for the love of God, you won’t go over there!”

  Emma barely breathed watching her grandmother. This had to be really good for her Nana to say that, to take the Lord’s name in vain. She nodded.

  “Okay then.” Nana sighed and then looked over at them. “It’s one of the oldest houses on the island. There’s a sad and tragic history to the Hanson place.” Nana stepped over and eased down on Emma’s bed. “The family lived there for a few generations before they fell on hard times. The rumours are that the father got involved with some bad people. It was the time of prohibition in the States. There was a lot of money to be made in running liquor across the border. There was no prohibition in Canada, of course.”

  “I’ve heard about that. The people doing it were Rum Runners.” Emma had a history teacher who often went off the curriculum telling exciting tales to spice up his classes. She glanced over at Grace who was standing spellbound, listening to the story. This was the sort of thing that was right up her alley if she was interested in becoming a writer.

  “Yes. Well, the father, Gerald Hanson, was involved with that, back in the 1920’s.” She looked at both girls. “Back in those days, the money in bootleg liquor was enormous, like drug dealing today. And just like drug cartels today, those people back then were evil and violent.”

  Grace’s eyes sparked. “Violent?”

  Nana nodded. “Yes.” Lifting her arm, she pointed at the window. “The entire Hanson family was murdered one night back in 1929.”

  “WHAT!” Grace’s head snapped back to face out the window. “A whole family?”

  Emma felt repulsed by the eager look on her cousin’s face.

  “Yes,” said Nana. “It was long before my time, but people here thought that it was some sort of gang war or something.” She shook her head slowly. “But it never really made sense to me. They were all poisoned except for the mother, and she was found hanging in the parlour. If it was gangsters sending a message, why would they try to make it look like the mother poisoned her own family?”

  Emma was horrified. “She poisoned her family? Her children?”

  “Oh my God!” Grace pulled a chair over and flopped down in it, next to Nana. “The family died there? And not just that but were murdered! So the place really is haunted?”

  Nana’s voice was soft with woe. “Nobody knows the truth. Maybe she did kill them because she went crazy or something, or maybe some murderers did it and made it look like she did it.” She shook her head again. “Nobody knows...” She shook her head and looked down at her lap. “But to kill your own children...” She sighed.

  She looked off and was silent for a few moments. “When I was a girl in the 1950’s something happened there to a boy we went to school with. Allen Croft. He went inside and fell down the stairs. He died there.” She took a deep breath and her face became soft. “Your grandfather and Frank had seen him headed that way on the day Allen died. It was thanks to them that the search parties checked it out. It was a tragic thing to happen.”

  Nana stood up and went to the window. “Back in the 1970’s a young couple our age bought the place.” She looked off to the side. “Karen and Jeremy something or another... They moved in and were going to fix it up.” Nana sighed and she shrugged her shoulders. “They left in a heck of a hurry—they left in the middle of the same night they moved in and were never heard from since. The locals stay away from it.”

  Nana got to her feet like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “Now, will you stop talking about the place? It has bad memories for a lot of people around here. Allen was a friend of your grandfather.”

  She wandered over to the door and opened it, standing there for a beat and turning to face them. “It’s funny. I’ve always felt that we’re kind of the sentinels to the place, living just across the field from it. We just don’t want any more people getting hurt or...” She shook her head slowly. “Just leave it alone, girls. And if you’re done in here, you can come down and help with lunch.”

  Grace popped out of her chair and her voice was light. “We’re almost done! We’ll be down in ten minutes, tops.”

  When the door closed and Nana’s footsteps could be heard on the stairs, she spun around and there was a wide smile on her face. “That seals it! I have to go over there! I’m going to take lots of pictures and write the story! Maybe I’ll even get published.”

  Emma felt a coldness deep in her gut after hearing this, and seeing the excitement in Grace’s eyes. “Are you nuts? What part of ‘don’t go over there’, did you not understand? She trusts us, Grace. We can’t.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned her back on Emma, plucking a hoodie from the closet. “Fine! You stay here if you want, but I’m going to check it out.”

  Emma’s eyes were like dinner plates. “Now? You’re going there, now?”

  Once more, Grace did her customary eye roll and she shook her head. “Of course not now, idiot. I’ll wait until the time is right and then I’ll go.” She shoved her arms into the light blue jacket and sauntered out of the room.

  Emma frowned and slumped off after her cousin. Should she tell Nana? Her grandparents had arranged this visit to bring the cousins closer and there she was now, willing to rat her cousin out. That sure wouldn’t help. She’d have to find a way to discourage Grace from going over there. Especially now that she knew of the all the people who had died there. Grandpa was right. The place was dangerous.

  Chapter 6

  The next day dawned better than the one before, weather-wise. When Emma rolled out of bed and looked out the window, the sky was overcast, but at least it wasn’t raining. She peered across at the Hanson house, her eye drawn to it like a magnet. Everything was quiet over there. Even last night when she’d checked for the light before falling into bed, it had been still and dark. Maybe Frank had found people hiding there and had run them off.

  She grabbed her robe and was about to leave the room when Julia sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Emma?”

  She took a step closer and put her finger across her lips signaling to speak lower. Her two cousins were still sound asleep and she had no great wish for Grace to wake up. She’d had enough of her the previous evening, sulking around and being snippy to Julia and her.

  Emma leaned close to her sister’s face. “What?”

  “Do you want to ride our bikes to the village this afternoon, just you and me? I don’t mind if Lily comes but...” She looked over at the lower bunk where Grace was huddled into a ball sleeping soundly. She stuck her tongue out and pulled a sour face.

  Emma smiled and whispered, “We’ll see. Are you getting up?”

  Julia threw the covers back and rolled over to rest her foot on the small ladder. She popped off the bed as silent as a cat. The two girls left the room and Julia disappeared into the bathroom.
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  Emma could hear the voices of her grandparents drifting up from downstairs and the smell of coffee was in the air. She crept softly down and paused at the bottom step to try to hear what they were saying.

  She was able to make out Frank’s low, raspy voice “No, none Abby. No sign that anyone had broken in. All the boards were still on the downstairs windows and the doors.”

  “How ‘bout the gate? Was it shut tight?” Grandpa wasn’t good at keeping his voice low.

  “Look Dan...even if they do go over there, they can’t get through the door or windows. We both know what that light was. I’ll keep an eye on the place, don’t worry.” Frank’s words were punctuated by the clatter of his coffee cup banging against the table.

  It was the perfect opportunity to tell her grandparents about Grace’s plan. Yet, Emma held back. Maybe Frank would catch Grace in the act and that would be that. He was always watching with those black hawk eyes of his. One thing she knew for sure, she wouldn’t want to be Grace if that happened.

  She backed up the stairs and then made a noisy show of coming down again, her feet clattering and yawning loudly. In the kitchen, Nana and Grandpa had plastic smiles while Frank remained, as always, stone faced.

  “Morning Em! How are you today?” Grandpa got up from the table and grabbed the coffee pot to top up his cup and offer a refill to Frank.

  Emma kissed her Nana on her cheek and then turned around to smile at him. “Fine!” She poured milk and then looked over at her grandmother. “Julia wants us to go into the village this afternoon on our bikes. Is it okay with you?”

  Her grandmother nodded and looked past Emma to the doorway where Julia had appeared. “Maybe Grace and Lily would like to go with you. It’s a fair ride there—almost two miles.”

  Julia managed a wan smile and her gaze flickered to Emma. Words weren’t necessary to convey her disappointment. It looked like her plan to ditch Grace for a while wasn’t going to work. Emma sighed and then took a seat at the table. Once more she murmured a low ‘good morning’ to Frank.