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Grayson Manor Haunting

Page 14

by Cheryl Bradshaw


  CHAPTER 37

  Addison’s grandmother leaned forward, waiting for an answer.

  “I haven’t lived there long,” Addison said.

  “I never thought you’d actually be interested in the place, or I would have never allowed your mother to leave it to you in her will.”

  “You assume a lot for someone who doesn’t know me.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but knowing your mother, I assumed she would steer you clear of the place.”

  Addison folded her arms and rested them on the edge of the table. “Why?”

  “Bad memories.”

  “What happened to make her feel that way?”

  Her grandmother clacked her fingernails along the table’s surface, well aware of the little song and dance routine they were playing with each other. “I want you to leave that house immediately.”

  Addison’s jaw tightened. “No.”

  “It isn’t a request.”

  “The house was deeded to me, and I intend to stay there. It doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

  “You have no idea the kind of danger you’re putting yourself in, child.”

  “If there’s something I need to know, why don’t you tell me?”

  “Such a defiant little thing, aren’t you? I see your mother raised you well. All right then, if it’s truth you want, it’s truth you shall have. Let’s talk about your gift. And don’t bother denying it; I know you’re using it.”

  “How?”

  “Answer my questions, and I’ll answer yours.”

  Addison slumped back in the chair. She barely knew her grandmother, and here she was asking her to reveal things she didn’t even share with those closest to her. And yet her grandmother knew things. Addison could tell. It was like she knew what Addison was going to say before she said it.

  “I haven’t got all day,” Marjorie said. “So let’s get things rolling, shall we? Do you know what a medium is?”

  “Someone who sees spirits?”

  “And communicates with them. What happened when you were five?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You saw something—what was it?”

  How does she know about the birthday party? My dad wouldn’t have told her, would he?

  “I…I…was at a birthday party.” She couldn’t believe she was actually saying it.

  “Go on,” Marjorie prompted.

  “My friend Natalie’s hair bow fell out. I picked it up.”

  “And what did you see?”

  “Natalie. On the swing. She was soaring, swinging so high. The rope on the swing snapped, and she fell. Somehow I knew she wasn’t going to be all right. I knew, even then, that within days she’d be dead.”

  “And when it happened, did she die?”

  Addison hung her head and nodded.

  “How did it make you feel?”

  “Like I could have saved her, if only…”

  “If only, what?”

  “Someone would have believed me.”

  “But no one did, did they?”

  Addison shook her head, ashamed.

  Marjorie reached her hand across the table, resting it gently on Addison’s arm. “I believe you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I see things too…just like my mother before me, and just like your mother before you.”

  “It’s not possible. My mother—”

  Marjorie lifted a finger to Addison’s lips. “It’s my turn now. I’m going to tell you a story. I’d like you to listen carefully and not to interrupt until I’ve finished. There will be plenty of time for questions later.”

  The words that followed were the unfiltered truth: Addison was a medium. It was a gift bestowed upon every firstborn daughter over the past several generations when they turned five. By the use of touch, the medium could receive visions pertaining to the past or the future. Once that was mastered and the medium’s belief in her power grew stronger, she could use her hands for all kinds of things, and if her hands were used together, she could draw upon things even more vividly. Addison thought back to the dream she’d had of seeing herself in the woods, hands pressed firmly into the rich terra firma, the ground around her erupting with light. It had been her gift shining through, showing her the way.

  Marjorie explained that for the gift to pass from mother to child, one thing needed to happen: the child needed to believe, and the mother needed to nurture that belief, helping her daughter to accept the gift and teaching her how to use it. When this happened, the gift transferred, gradually at first, until the mother no longer had it. Such was the case between Marjorie and Addison’s mother, who didn’t want to believe. When she turned five, the nurturing process began. Then something happened. An event, but Marjorie wouldn’t go into detail. She didn’t need to—Addison knew exactly what it was.

  “What happened when my mother rejected her gift?” Addison probed.

  “She didn’t reject it exactly. She became angry with something she saw. She looked me in the eye and swore that one day when she grew up and had a child of her own, she’d never allow the child to have the gift. She didn’t see it as good; she thought it was evil. But it’s not evil at all.”

  “Is that why she kept you away from me?”

  Marjorie fidgeted in her chair. “Mostly. I was hoping I could reason with her—help her understand the significance of what she was doing. When she refused to accept it, the gift remained with me, waiting to be passed on to the next generation, to my granddaughter. You see, if I die without passing it on, it dies with me.”

  “Did my mother understand this?”

  “She didn’t care. Stubborn girl. Always was.” Marjorie glanced out the window and squinted, like she saw something.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She lifted a finger and pointed at Addison. “A couple of weeks ago you saw something that made you believe again.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “I felt it, and every time you’ve experienced any type of vision since, I’ve felt those too.”

  “Can you see what I’m seeing?”

  Marjorie shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. The more you use it, the more you see, and the less I do. Yesterday you really believed, for the first time. You may have thought you did before that, but you still had your doubts. You have more power in your hands than you know, and it won’t be long now until everything I possess is inside of you.”

  It pained Addison to reflect back on the way her mother had reacted when she tried to tell her what she saw. Nothing in her facial expressions offered even the slightest hint that she knew her daughter was telling the truth. Her mother had understood what was happening to her, and yet she’d done nothing to help her little girl. Addison didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, to place blame, or to combine them all into one, big emotional tirade. “I want to know what happened to my mother as a child.”

  Marjorie jerked her head back, as if shocked by Addison’s frankness. “Certainly not.”

  Addison wasn’t dissuaded. She’d come this far—she wasn’t leaving without some answers. In a hushed tone, she said, “Then tell me what happened to Roxanne Rafferty. And where’s my grandfather?”

  “What do you think you’ve seen?”

  “I don’t think anything—I know. And so do you. That’s partly why you’re here, isn’t it—to warn me—to scare me away?”

  “Your visions aren’t always as accurate as they seem,” Marjorie argued. “You won’t understand them fully until I’ve had the chance to work with you.”

  “What I saw…it was…very real.”

  “I’m sure it was. Now let me explain—”

  “The only explanation I’m looking for right now is for you to tell me who killed Roxanne, why, and where I can find her body.”

  Marjorie held her gaze, unfettered. “What do you think happened? You’ve obviously seen something, so let’s hear it.”

  “I found the dress.”

  “Wh
at dress?”

  “The one in the hidden room. It was old and stained with blood.”

  “You’re sure it was blood?”

  “I was going to have it tested, but then something happened.”

  “What?”

  “A man came over. He said he was a detective and had once worked on the case. I found out later that he’d lied. The department said that detective had died years ago, and when I opened the box, the dress was gone.”

  There was no denying the concern displayed on Marjorie’s face. What Addison said worried her. “What did he look like—the man?”

  “He was older, grey hair, beard. He had an old briefcase with him—I think he must have stuffed the dress inside of it to get it out of the house.”

  “Have you seen him again?”

  Addison shook her head.

  Without warning, Marjorie shot out of her chair, grabbing the gloves with one hand and Addison’s wrist with the other. “We must go. Now.”

  “What—why?”

  “Someone is watching.”

  When they reached the door, Marjorie released her grip on Addison and said, “I want you to leave the manor. Promise me. It isn’t safe for you there.”

  They walked outside. Addison’s father was sitting on a bench outside, waiting. She waved him over and then turned back to her grandmother. She was gone.

  CHAPTER 38

  “How could you leave me in there alone with that…that woman?!” Addison said to her father.

  “You needed to learn about your history, Addison. I only wish I’d done it sooner. Where is she?”

  Addison shrugged. “She took off once we got outside. Didn’t you see her? She said someone was watching.”

  “What do you mean, watching?”

  Addison’s shoulders rose, then fell. “I have no idea.”

  “She didn’t say who?”

  “We never got that far. Whoever it was spooked her. Up until that moment, she’d been smug, cold almost. Then her whole demeanor changed.”

  “Your mother always said Marjorie wasn’t big on sweet sentiments.”

  As they crossed the street, Addison looked around. A man in a funny black hat glared at her as he walked by. A woman smacked into her shoulder. People were everywhere. It was New York City for heaven’s sake. There was no way she’d be able to decipher the difference between an average person and a stalker, if that’s who they were dealing with.

  “I need to tell you something,” Addison said when she started the car, “and you’re not going to like it. Marjorie told me to leave the manor again just now. She said it wasn’t safe.”

  He had a confused look on his face. “Did you find out why she keeps saying that? Seems like a nice place to me.”

  She looked at her father and frowned. “I think Mom saw something she wasn’t meant to when she was a child. I tried asking Marjorie, but she wouldn’t budge.”

  Her father tapped a finger on the dashboard of the car. “Like what?”

  “You let me meet her today because you know, don’t you? You know about my gift.”

  He bowed his head and nodded.

  “I haven’t had a vision in a very long time, but when I moved to Grayson Manor, it started again.” Over the next several minutes she did her best to explain what had occurred since she moved to the manor, giving him minor details, hoping this time he would understand.

  “I never should have let you feel I didn’t believe you. I see that now and I’m sorry.”

  Addison reached out and patted him on the arm, “No one is perfect, Dad. And it’s okay. You don’t have to keep apologizing over and over. I know why you did it. I just can’t believe after everything, you’d want me anywhere around Marjorie. She seems like such an ice cold person to me.”

  He sighed.

  Here it comes.

  “There’s something you don’t know. After your mother told me what you could do…well…see, and I’d seen proof of it, I called Marjorie. Your mother never knew about this call. Marjorie may not be the kindest woman I’ve ever met, but she helped me make sense of something your mother refused to discuss in detail with me. At the end of our conversation she only asked for one thing.”

  “What was it?”

  “That one day when the time was right, I’d let her see you again.”

  CHAPTER 39

  An eerie stillness filled the air when Addison and her father arrived home. Luke’s truck was parked out front, but there was no sign of him anywhere. She dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail. She shouted his name. Her father shouted his name. A deadly quiet followed.

  “We need to check the woods,” Addison said.

  Her father looked at her, perplexed.

  “I’ll explain later. Hurry!”

  He frowned. “Addison, what’s going on? How do you know Luke is out there? And don’t say you’ll tell me later. I want to know now.”

  “He was looking for something,” she replied. But she wasn’t looking at him.

  “What?”

  The knot in Addison’s throat enlarged, first feeling like a ping-pong ball and then expanding a few sizes. She pressed a hand against her throat and tried to breathe. “I…can’t…explain…right…now,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, Dad. But I have to get to him.” She began to run. She felt guilty for leaving her father behind, but she had to; something didn’t feel right. And, when she reached a half-dug hole in the ground, and saw the limp, lifeless body lying inside of it, she knew why. She collapsed to the ground, pressing two fingers to the side of Luke’s neck. She’d hoped to feel signs of life. What she experienced was something else entirely.

  ***

  In her vision, the area surrounding Luke was sheathed in a fog-like haze. He stood over the area Addison had been found in and chucked piles of debris over his shoulder with the shovel, sprinkling dirt onto the ground below. He dug a few feet down and peered inside, like he’d noticed something. Addison couldn’t see what it was—she could only see him, not inside the hole.

  He leaned the shovel against the tree and lowered his head into the area he’d just excavated. He reached a hand in and pulled out a small object, turning it over in his hand to inspect it. After he’d stared at it for several seconds, he held it up to the light and then gasped, gently setting it down next to him before dropping himself back into the hole again. Both of his hands were hard at work now, shovel tossed to the side, as he clawed his way deeper into the hole. Addison shifted her gaze to the object he’d set to the side. It was a bone, and it looked like a human’s.

  The sound of footsteps approached, but Luke didn’t seem to notice. A hand reached through the mist, picked up the shovel, and whacked Luke on the back of the head. He slumped over, falling into the hole. His cell phone flung through the air and landed several feet away. She turned again, determined to see the face of the person holding the shovel. He was gone. Running. He was running away. Why was this person running away when there was no one else here?

  Addison’s father’s voice penetrated her vision. He was yelling her name. She felt her body being tossed around violently like it had gone limp. Her father grabbed her hand, pulling it off Luke. When she opened her eyes, her father was hunched over her, his face crippled with fear. She reached out a hand and cupped it around his cheek. “I’m fine, Dad,” she said. “We have to get Luke to the hospital.”

  “Is he…alive?”

  Addison wasn’t sure. She leaned in and touched him once more. This time, she was on the beach overlooking the sea. Luke stood across from her. He looked different somehow, older, and his hair was shorter. He was smiling. She was smiling. And she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. As she looked around, she realized they weren’t alone. People were gathered around. Some she recognized, others she didn’t. One woman in particular stood out, grinning at Addison like they were best friends. She saw her father, and Luke’s parents, and three girls she’d never seen before wearing what appeared to be the same exact dress. The same dress? That only ha
ppens at a… She turned her attention back to the mirror image of herself, now noticing she was also wearing a dress. But it wasn’t white. It was a soft, pink color with spaghetti straps and a corseted bodice. Luke was in a fitted grey suit with the bottoms of his pant legs rolled up. She glanced down. Neither of them was wearing shoes; instead their feet dug into the sand. A man stood between them. He was saying something. His lips moved, but it was like someone had turned the volume all the way down. She couldn’t hear anything.

  “Addison, don’t do this to me…not again. Wake up. Please,” her father pleaded.

  She felt herself moving, being pulled off of Luke for a second time. When she opened her eyes again, her father stood between her and Luke. “I think it’s best if I check his pulse this time,” he said matter-of-factly.

  She placed a hand on her father’s wrist. “There’s no need. He’s going to be fine.” He turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. She forged a smile, hoping to calm him. “Trust me, Dad. I know.” She looked to the side. The bone Luke had found in her vision was not there. She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed. When the operator answered, she simply said, “I need the police and an ambulance. Now.”

  CHAPTER 40

  The ambulance arrived fifteen minutes later, stopping in front of Addison’s distraught-looking father, who had been waiting outside the manor. He led them to the place Luke had been found in the woods. Luke was still unconscious when they heaved him onto the stretcher and carried him back to the truck. The EMTs asked questions about what had happened. Addison reassured them that all would be revealed once the police arrived on the scene. She watched the medics take him away, wishing she could go with them and be by his side, but she knew she had to stay until the police arrived. And she didn’t have to wait long. Minutes later, a patrol car pulled up. Two officers stepped out and proceeded on foot until they reached Addison in the woods.

  “I’m Officer Waters,” a woman said. “What’s going on here?”

  Addison explained how she’d found Luke, not realizing the barrage of questions she’d just opened herself up to.

 

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