An awkward silence fell between them.
Alex sifted through the emotions he was picking up from her and said, “Are you wondering if there’s any connection to that girl who disappeared from the manor sixteen years ago?”
Veronica stared at him, “Who told you...?”
“Roy.”
She nodded and took a deep breath, “We never found her, or anything to tell us what happened to her.”
“So your boss said.”
“He doesn’t know the half of it,” she muttered, and burst into tears.
Without a word, Alex reached out to her. She shook her head, but didn’t resist as he pulled her close.
Outside the window, the white wolf made a sympathetic noise. Then it stood up and left the way it had come.
next day
In the morning both Alex and Veronica were more relaxed. They had talked long into the night and had come up with a plan. He would proceed with the sale of the property, visiting it only when necessary. They would talk with Cassandra, hoping she would be the one to actually buy the estate. Alex was confident she would be more than willing to wait on any renovations and keep people out, until the police were satisfied that the area was safe.
Shortly after breakfast, Ronnie left for a day of shopping and a bite of lunch with Olivia Jackson, one of her co-workers. As soon as she was gone Alex began looking for Jason Cloudfoot’s number in the phonebook. The man was a psychic, and knew that he was one too. What else did he know?
Alex found the number and was about to dial it when he suddenly shivered. The wailing cry and the chill that accompanied it still haunted him.
“What am I doing?” he asked himself. “Ronnie will have a shit fit if she finds out.”
And that was the last thing he wanted. He loved her deeply. More than any woman he had ever known and she knew it. And there was no question in his mind that she felt the same way about him.
The only thing that overshadowed their happiness was her anxiety about the difference in their ages. Until they were coming back from the Morgue, he had not been able to fully understand her fear. But now, he was more than willing to let things stand until she was ready.
So why was he doing this?
Suddenly the phone rang, scaring the hell out of him. For a moment he almost expected it to be Veronica saying, “Don’t even think about going over there.” Or even Jason Cloudfoot asking, “Why do you hesitate?”
But, a quick glance at the screen showed him the caller was Dave. With a sigh of relief he answered, “What do you want, you bloody yank?”
“A night in your girlfriend’s bed,” came his friend’s reply.
“You got it. Mind you she’ll be out on the sofa with me.”
“What kind of a pal are you?”
“Selfish. So what can I do for you, besides send you an inflatable girlfriend?”
“Tell me what’s going on with the Graham place? Is there going to be an Open House, and if so what have you got planned?”
Alex ran down the list he had in mind, “A band in each of the ballrooms, catered food and drinks, guided tours, the works.”
Dave whistled, “That’s sounding pretty fancy. Mind if I come and crash the festivities?”
“Hey, if you can get past the Hell-hounds, the spiked pits, and the fire breathing dragon, then yes.”
“Wait let me check,” Dave replied. In the background Alex could hear the all too familiar sound of dice being rolled. “Nat 20, I slaughter them all AND I made my Find Traps roll.”
Alex smiled. They had played Dungeons and Dragons together since junior high. “I should’ve included modifiers,” he sighed.
“No tapbacks, Dude.”
“Do you need a place to stay?”
“Nah, I was thinking about going back to that motel I stayed at last time. Especially, if they still got that hot babe working the front desk.”
Alex couldn’t resist, “They’ve got two of them these days. Which one were you referring to?” There was brief moment of silence from the other end. Then he heard his friend speaking in a rapid-fire voice, “Look-get-off-the-phone-I-gotta-make-some-reservations-see-you-in-a-day-or-so…Bye.” CLICK.
“Bloody horn dog,” he smirked, and started to put the cell phone down. But it rang again and he automatically hit the green button to answer it. Immediately, the eerie cold feeling swept over him and he half expected to hear the scream start pouring out from the device. But instead he heard the voice of Jason Cloudfoot saying, “I was making some tea. I thought you’d like to join me.”
Over at Police Headquarters Roy made his way through the maze of desks where several of his staff were working on a special task he’d given them an hour ago.
He’d received a call from the lab as soon as he’d arrived. They’d had more information on the water sample he’d taken the day before. Not only was it the same water that had been used to kill Paul Chase and the two teenagers, there was also a strange element or mineral that they had never seen the likes of before. And they were still doing more tests to determine the exact nature of the ‘mystery element’. So far all they could say for sure was that it seemed to give off a nasty odor in water.
As soon as he’d hung up with them, the phone rang again. This time it had been Wells, the medical examiner, telling him that he’d found no indication of trauma on either of the two teenagers, whose bodies were still in the morgue. Since the exact cause of the drowning had not yet been determined, their remains had not been released to the parents. And so far, all indications seemed to be point towards the pair jumping into the water of their own accord.
But that made no sense. Jason had told him the teens seemed very happy and were talking about the future. He began to wonder if the mysterious element found in the water, with its weird smell, could have anything to do with what happened. After telling Wells his suspicions, he ordered several of his officers to start searching the records for any reports or incidents involving strange behavior in the vicinity of the bridge.
“What have we got so far?” he asked the nearest officer, who happened to be Ronnie’s partner Ryan.
“Not much,” the young man replied, “Things were quiet in that area even before Old Man Graham landed up in the hospital. All we’ve been able to find is a few fistfights, kids smoking pot, and one suicide attempt back in 1930. Guy was drunk out of his mind at the time and was only half-serious about it.”
“That’s all?”
“Afraid so,” Ryan shrugged and then added, “Want me to check the Missing Persons files?”
“Don’t bother,” Roy replied sitting down on the corner of a desk, “I just finished doing that myself. A few ‘Last Seens’ in that area, but no more than any other places where kids hang out.”
“Maybe the White Lady got them,” suggested Pam, the station’s dispatcher. She was 30 years old, blonde and was just a little on the heavy side. But this extra weight merely accentuated her already pleasing curves. She had lived in New Swindon all her life and knew the town’s history and its many legends better than anyone in the station house.
“Who’s the White Lady?” asked Roy.
“A ghost who supposedly haunts that bridge,” Ryan explained. “Nobody believes in her.”
“Oh really?” said Pam with a quizzical look, “I seem to remember a certain incident involving you and Jenny Wilson while you were parked there once.”
Roy couldn’t resist, “What happened?”
The Dispatcher set down the cup of coffee she had in her hand and eagerly launched into her story. “Well, one night I was patrolling that area. Now knowing the woods around the bridge was also a ‘Lover’s Lane’, I decided to leave my car just out of sight. My plan was to sneak around quietly on foot and make sure no one was using any illegal substances.”
“Uh-huh and what did you find?” asked Roy glancing over at Ryan, who looked like he was silently praying for lightning to strike the Dispatcher before she could finish.
“Well, the first vehicl
e I came across was Lover-boy’s,” here she paused and smiled at Ryan who was now turning red with embarrassment. “And I overheard him telling Jenny the legend of the White Lady. He’d gotten her so scared and worked up she’d climbed into his lap for protection, which wasn’t easy since he was still behind the steering wheel.”
Shaking his head Roy looked at Ryan and said, “You should’ve gotten her in the backseat first son.”
“Tell me about it,” the young man replied.
“Anyway,” Pam continued, “He had just given her the old, ‘Don’t be afraid you got me here to protect you’ routine. And he was just starting to slip his hand inside her blouse, when I leapt in front of their car and turned my flashlight on my face. To this day I still can’t tell which of them screamed more like a girl.”
All around them, the other officers burst out laughing.
But Pam wasn’t finished, “Oh, it got even better. They screamed so loud, they startled several other couples nearby. At least two guys jumped out of their cars and fell down trying to run away with their pants around their ankles.”
This time her audience went to pieces, at least until Ryan pointed out that the two in question were present right now. This gave rise to a series of insults and barb-trading until Roy restored order saying, “All right kiddies, you’re not in high school anymore. Let’s keep it somewhat professional around here.” Then he turned back to the Dispatcher and asked, “Anything else happen after that?”
“Oh yeah,” she nodded solemnly. “After everyone cleared out I was making sure there wasn’t any ‘questionable’ trash left behind. I was just about to head back to my patrol car when I saw something moving near the foot of the bridge.” The Dispatcher’s voice had taken on a tone that sent a nervous chill down the spines of everyone in the room.
Roy got so caught up he forgot himself and grabbed the nearest cup of coffee, which happened to be hers, and took a sip. “What was it?” he asked quietly.
In a tense voice Pam replied, “It was a girl in white, coming out of the water. At that moment I knew I was looking at a dead girl.”
“Seriously?” asked Ryan his annoyance with her apparently forgotten.
Pam nodded. “Patty Jenkins parents were going to kill her for messing up that dress and putting on all that make-up just to scare people,” she finished and swiped her cup back from Roy.
It took everyone a moment to realize what had just happened and burst out laughing.
“Don’t you have a desk to get back to?” Roy growled at the Dispatcher. “And put some sugar in that coffee next time, it tastes like crap.”
“Let me have Friday off, and I’ll get you a cup the way you like,” Pam replied, as he headed for his office.
“Only if there’s a donut with it,” he called back.
“One with sprinkles,” snickered a large burly officer named Thompson.
Roy paused and turned to him saying, “I prefer ones with icing, actually. And just for that you can sit in for Pam at the Dispatch Desk this Friday.”
“Aw, Chief have a heart,” the man complained.
“Bet you never knew sprinkles could be so expensive did you?” Peterson laughed and disappeared into his office.
A few minutes later, Pam entered carrying coffee and a chocolate donut with icing and sprinkles. “I made sure they were fresh today.”
“Thanks,” Roy smiled, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Now tell me about the White Lady? Have many people seen her?”
“Oh yeah,” Pam told him. “A lot of people have seen her over the years, but the descriptions kind of vary from time to time.”
“Oh really?” mused Roy aloud, “Tell me her story.”
one legend… two versions
Alex parked his car near the groundskeeper’s cottage and got out. It was very peaceful and quiet here, and the smell of trees and flowers filled his nostrils. From where he stood he could see the stone bridge not too far in the distance. Just beyond it, at the top of a gentle slope, stood the great mansion.
Jason appeared in the doorway of the cottage and greeted him warmly saying, “This is your first time down here isn’t it?”
“How did you know?”
“I know everyone who’s come here,” the man smiled. “Couples like to park near the stream and ‘hook up’. Since its part of my job to keep an eye on the property, I watch over the kids as well. I don’t spy on them you understand? I just make sure there’s no trouble. Break up fights, help some of them get home when they’re too wasted to drive.”
“That’s awfully good of you,” Alex told him.
“Well, I do it for her sake as well as theirs. She doesn’t like bad things happening near her bridge.”
Alex frowned, “What do you mean her bridge? I thought Mr. Graham was unmarried.”
“That’s right,” Cloudfoot nodded. “He owned the property, but the bridge was built for ‘The White Lady’.”
“Who’s she then?”
“You’ve never heard of her!” exclaimed his host in surprise. “Well, come inside and I’ll tell you her story. I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting.”
Back in Roy’s office Pam took a chair in front of his desk saying, “Now I heard this from Mr. Graham himself when I was little. My mother was one of his cleaning ladies. He had a number of them, since the mansion was kind of big.”
Roy nodded, “Yeah, I noticed. Who’d want such a gigantic place?”
“Well the Graham family was huge way back in the late 1600’s,” his subordinate explained. “They usually had several generations living under one roof at the same time. Now Cyrus told me he was the last of the original family line, and that it would come to an end when he died.”
“What happened to the rest of them?”
Pam shrugged, “Illness, bad genes, war, while others moved away and were never heard from again.”
“Okay so what about the White Lady? What’s her story?” asked Roy sitting back in his chair.
“Well in the early 1700’s, there was a young girl about 14 years old who was the apple…”
“…of her father’s eye?” asked Alex.
“She was,” Jason nodded. “But, he was a very religious man, preaching blood and thunder at every meal. He insisted that everyone in his household, including the staff remained humble and pure. Especially the women, they were to maintain their purity above all.”
“But, there was a young man who fancied the girl, am I right?”
“No one really knew the name of her suitor,” Pam continued, “But there was an Elliott living nearby at the time. He moved away shortly after the events of the story took place.”
“Elliott?” Roy mused, “As in the shipping and hotel magnates?”
“The very same,” she nodded. “Anyway, long story short, the girl wound up pregnant. Now the servants adored her and helped keep her condition a secret throughout the whole nine months.”
“What about the birth? How’d they manage to hide that?” Roy asked curiously.
“There were a lot of servants living there during those days. And more than one gave birth inside those walls, so the sound of someone in labor wasn’t unusual.”
“That makes sense,” Roy nodded. “So what happened?”
Jason sighed, “Unfortunately, the servants failed to get their stories straight about who had given birth. Also the girl’s prolonged ‘illness’ in the last few weeks before the birth had made her father suspicious.”
Roy shook his head, “So Daddy found out his little girl had given birth and then what happened? Did he go after the boyfriend?”
“Mr. Elliott had left town, long before the birth took place, so the only people he could deal with were his daughter and her bastard child,” Pam pursed her lips, “And that’s what he set out to do. He chased her out of the house and into the night. A storm was raging and she knew he’d catch her on the road because it would be so muddy. So she headed towards the bridge, hoping to get to the other side and disappear int
o the woods.”
“I’m assuming that since the girl haunts the bridge, her father threw the baby from it,” Alex interrupted.
Jason shook his head. “The bridge hadn’t been built yet. But its construction was a direct result of what happened that night. You see, the father did set out to deal a severe punishment on his daughter and her child, only to find they were gone. Her grandfather had warned her of what was to come. So she grabbed her baby and ran out into the night. A terrible storm was raging at the time and she’d hoped it would wash away her footsteps making her flight impossible to follow.”
Alex was so engrossed by the tale, that he almost forgot about his cup of tea and took another sip. His host had said it was a homemade recipe that had been in his family for generations. It had a very interesting taste.
“The girl had not gotten far, when her Father came out of the mansion and spotted her,” Jason continued. “Immediately, she ran towards the stream hoping to cross it before he could reach her. She was so frightened, that she wasn’t thinking clearly. Otherwise she might have realized that the water was running high, and that the current was very strong.”
Roy leaned forward eagerly, “What happened next?” he asked.
“The girl managed to get about halfway across the bridge and slipped. Now the railing hadn’t existed at that time so there was nothing to stop her from going over. But she managed to grab the edge with one hand, still clutching her baby with the other.”
“So she was just hanging there? Please tell me her father tried to rescue her.”
Pam smiled and nodded, “He got to her, just as she was about to lose her grip and tried to pull her up. But with her using only one arm it was difficult. Finally, some of the servants arrived and tried to help. Unfortunately, she got jostled as they pulled her up and she lost her grip on the baby and it fell in the water. Her father dove right in to save it, but the current was strong and they both disappeared. A few days later they found his body crushed between some rocks downstream. They never found the baby. After that, the girl would go down to the bridge every night, hoping to find her child. Then, on the third anniversary of the baby’s disappearance, there was another storm. In the middle of dinner she stood up, shouting that she could hear her baby’s cry. And every person in that room heard it too, the distant wail of an infant calling for its mother.”
The Bridge (Para-Earth Series) Page 11
