“Me too, I’ll leave a voicemail for my secretary, tell her I won’t be in today.”
Both men left voicemails taking the day off with their respective employers then put their phones on chargers. “Okay, now with that done,” Damien said, taking his laptop out of his bag, “let’s discover what we can learn about Bucksville.” He tapped the keyboard, entering the town’s name into the Internet search bar. “Top result is a Wikipedia article, let’s find out what it says.” He began to read from the article, “Bucksville, Maine is a small seaside town on the Maine coast. Population blah blah blah, it was founded by the Buckley family in 1754. The Buckley family is still the largest landowner in the town and its surrounding areas, owning both personal property and commercial ventures including the town’s shipping fleet and cannery. Um…” He scanned through the rest of the brief article. “There’s not much else here, nothing really of note.”
“Is there a section called 'Why would anyone go to Bucksville?’” Michael joked.
“No, also no information on why Josie might go there.”
“Burning desire to visit a cannery?”
“She’s always thought Maine was pretty, but she’s never been there herself that I am aware of. Do you think this is related to what her mom told her? About being given away as a baby?”
“Could be, but why not tell us?”
“Yeah, that’s the weird part,” Damien said. “She’s always been open with me.” He watched the little red dot moving further and further away. “I’ll be happy when we’re moving, too. Where are you going, Josie?”
“It’s okay, man,” Michael said, detecting his upset, “we’ll find her, it’ll be okay.”
Damien nodded to him. The two sat in silence for a while until Damien’s phone chimed an alert. Checking it, he shifted forward onto the edge of his seat. “It’s a text from Josie!”
“What’s it say?” Michael asked, leaning toward him.
“Let me get it open, come on, phone! There we go. Okay, she says 'By now you probably noticed that I am gone. I’m fine, I hope to be back soon, I’ll explain later… too much to type’.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I’ll answer her and see if I can get more information.”
“Okay, but don’t let her know we’re following her.”
“Okay, I won’t.” He read aloud as he typed his response. “Yeah, we noticed and have been worried. Where are you and what do you mean by soon? And… how do I know you’re really okay?”
They waited with bated breath for her response. First, they received a selfie with the message: I’m fine, see? A smiling Josie looked out of the phone at them. She did, indeed, look fine. Next came a lengthier message: It’s just something that I have to do… I’m not sure how soon… now you can stop worrying
Damien sighed in frustration reading it. “She’s being intentionally vague. I’ll ask her straight out.” He typed back: I am still worried… can you at least tell me where you are?
She responded: No… I don’t want you following me.
“Too late,” he said to Michael before typing back: Keep in touch at least? Although I wish you’d tell me what’s going on… you’ve never been this secretive with me
Josie responded: I’ll keep in touch… sorry D but it’ll all be over soon and I’ll be home and life will be normal
“Well, I guess that’s that,” Damien said. He sighed. “Only an hour left to wait for this stupid train. And then another eleven hours to Bucksville.”
“Yeah, that gives us twelve solid hours to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” Damien questioned.
“The inevitable tongue-lashing she’ll give us when we show up wherever she is,” Michael said, only half-joking. “Hey, I’m starving, I’m going to see if I can get a breakfast sandwich at the little shop that just opened. Want me to grab you something?”
“Yeah, breakfast sandwich and a coffee would be awesome, thanks.”
After having some breakfast and fueling up with coffee, the two had only about fifteen more minutes to wait, so they packed up all of their stuff and headed to the platform. Not long after, they were seated on the train, ready for the long journey to Maine.
Damien watched the countryside roll by as they journeyed up through Boston and on toward Maine. Michael used his phone to answer various emails and review some work documents. The journey seemed to take forever, and the two made little conversation along the way, both of them more focused on finding Josie once they arrived at their destination.
When the train stopped in Bucksville, it was close to 7 p.m. They disembarked, finding little to nothing near the train station.
“Looks like the town is that way,” Michael said, pointing to his right. Following his finger, Damien spotted a cluster of lights.
“Yeah, and it looks like we’re walking,” Damien said. “At least we’re traveling light.” Damien shrugged his backpack onto both shoulders.
They made their way toward the lights. They found the main street and began walking down it on the sidewalk. A short way down the road they came across the Bucksville Inn. “Should we stop in here, rent a room, and ask around about Josie?” Michael posed.
“Good idea. With any luck, we’ll get some information there. Perhaps she’s even staying here and we’ll find her.”
“Looks like it’s the only place in town to stay so there’s a good chance.”
They pushed through the door and entered the small lobby. There was a small desk to their left, a call bell sat on top. No one was standing behind the desk so Michael wandered over and rang the bell. To the right was a little café. Damien approached Michael at the desk. “Looks like there’s a café, might want to grab something to eat once we get our bearings.”
“Yeah, I could use something to eat, I’m starving,” Michael said as an older gentleman approached the desk.
“Help you?” the man said, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.
“Yeah, we were hoping to get a room for the night.”
“All right. Have you filled out this paper with your information. Will you be paying cash or credit?”
“Credit card,” Michael said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and handing over his credit card then filling out the form.
“Need two keys, I guess? Got a nice room with two double beds, room five. Diner’s open ‘til eight so if you want to eat better get in there. Anything else I can do for you?”
“Thanks, yeah, we’re going to head there right after we dump our stuff. There was one other thing,” Michael said, pulling out his phone. “We’re looking for our friend.” He showed the picture of Josie on his phone. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen her, would you? She got into town a few hours ago.”
The man adjusted his glasses and peered at the picture. “Oh, ah, yeah, Mrs. Buckley. I didn’t realize she was back in town, haven’t seen her in a while. If she’s anywhere, I’d guess she’s up at the big house.”
“Big house?”
“Yeah, the Buckley place up on the hill. Locals call it Buckleyham Palace.” He chuckled. “All in good fun, of course. Head straight out of town on main street and turn right at the first road, follow it all the way up to the gates, can’t miss it.”
“Thanks a lot, we’ll try there after we grab a bite. Oh, any place we can rent a car for the weekend?”
“You’re welcome. Car? Nope, no place to rent a car in Bucksville. If you need anything else, just give me a holler. Name’s Cunningham, Bill Cunningham.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Michael said, stuffing his phone back in his pocket with his wallet. Turning to Damien he said, “Let’s dump the bags and get something to eat, then we can see about getting up to that house.”
They made their way upstairs and left their bags in their room. It was small, decorated with a quaint nautical theme. They headed back down to the lobby and into the café, finding themselves the only ones there.
“Take any table you want,” the waitress called from
the counter. They chose a table in the corner, as far from the counter as they could so they could talk without being overhead. The waitress delivered the menus and left them to look over their choices. Within a few moments she was back to take their order then gone again to deliver the order to the kitchen.
After the waitress left, Damien said, “I got a text from Josie. She said she’s made it to her destination safe and is fine. I texted her back and asked again if she could tell me where she was, she hasn’t answered though.”
“The old guy thinks she’s up at the house on the hill.”
“Yeah, but why did he call her Mrs. Buckley? She’s never been married.”
“Maybe he needs new glasses. Maybe she looks like Mrs. Buckley. Oh, maybe,” Michael said, growing excited, “Mrs. Buckley is her real mom and she looks like her?”
“Hmm, could be. That’s the only thing that makes sense so far.”
The waitress returned with their order, each having a simple burger and fries. “You boys from out of town? Don’t think I ever saw either of you before,” she said as she set the plates down in front of them.
“Yeah, looking for a friend.”
“Well, good luck. Bucksville isn’t that big so he shouldn’t be too hard to find.” With that the waitress disappeared, returning to wiping up the counter and cleaning up as she readied to close the café for the night.
“What is Josie doing here? It must have something to do with her birth parents. Could stalker guy be a relative? But why the arguing?” Damien asked, stuffing a fry into his mouth. “Mmm, this is surprisingly good,” he added.
“Maybe he wanted her to come here and she refused? Perhaps they were arguing about that and then she ended up deciding to come.”
“Again, why not tell us?”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean, okay, say it has to do with her birth family. So why not say, 'Hey guys, that guy is my long, lost brother’ or something, just explain it. Why all the secrecy and sneaking around? It would make much more sense for her to just tell us and not keep it secret. Then we wouldn’t be worrying, following her around or chasing her across the country.”
“Well, she doesn’t know we’re chasing her yet.”
“No, but still, she must realize this is coming across super odd to anyone on this end.”
“Perhaps she’s afraid I’ll call her mom again.”
“Okay, so then just say 'Don’t call my mom again’ right? I don’t get it.”
“Me either, fingers crossed we’ll find out soon though.”
They finished their meal, paid the bill and headed out into the night. It was cooler here than it was at home, the night breeze had a crispness to it similar to a fall evening.
“Well, looks like we’re walking,” Michael said. They saw no signs of a cab anywhere on the streets.
“Straight out of town to the first road on the right,” Damien imitated the innkeeper.
“Okay, let’s go!” Michael said as the two set off on foot toward the house on the hill.
Chapter 19
Josie took a deep breath as they rode up the long, winding driveway toward the house. It had been many years since she had been on the estate. A nervous energy filled her and her stomach clenched into a knot.
Henry, one of the estate caretakers, had picked them up at the train station and drove them to the house. He maneuvered the car alongside the front entrance. The house loomed large over them in the waning sunlight. Josie took another deep breath as she exited the car and stared up at the house’s dark frame. It had been decades since she had last been inside, yet it seemed as though it were only yesterday.
Grayson climbed out of the front passenger seat. He slipped his hand around hers. “Welcome home, Celine,” he said. He gave her another moment before saying, “Shall we go in?”
“Why put it off?” Josie said.
She took another deep, steadying breath before she pushed through the double doors into the entryway and the main foyer. The house had changed little; it was still as grand as she remembered with its wide stairway leading to the second-floor gallery-style hall. There was a large sitting room to the left. On the wall that separated it from the foyer had hung a large painting that now appeared to be missing. Grayson noticed her gaze fall upon the missing element. “The painting of Mina disappeared a few months ago, that’s when we realized there was trouble on the horizon.”
“Disappeared? You’re right, that’s not good news.” Josie answered him.
Josie saw movement coming from the sitting room and within a few seconds Charlotte Buckley-Stanton appeared in the doorway. “Celine! How lovely to see you again, I’m so glad you’ve come back. Won’t you please come in and sit down? Millie, good to have you back.” Charlotte approached Josie to give her a brief but sincere hug, slipped her arm around her waist and led her into the sitting room. Charlotte, Avery’s mother, was always the picture of grace. Widowed at a young age, she had raised Avery on her own from the age of eight and had remained a fixture in the Buckley house.
Charlotte led Josie to the sofa, and the two sat down, with Gray taking an arm chair across from them. “How was your trip? I trust you’re not too tired to have dinner with us?”
“It was fine, thank you,” Josie answered.
“We’ve had a long day, Char, but we can make it through dinner,” Gray said. “Would either of you like a brandy before dinner? I’m having one.” He stood to pour himself a glass from the drink cart.
“Oh, yes, I’ll take one, thank you, Gray,” Charlotte answered.
“No, thanks,” Josie said, wanting to keep her wits about her.
“Celine, I put you in your old suite, I hope that’s suitable?” Charlotte asked tactfully, trying to determine whether or not she would be sharing a room with her husband.
“It’s fine, Char, we’ll work it out,” Gray answered first.
“Yes, it’s fine, Charlotte,” Josie agreed.
Charlotte’s behavior would never betray the underlying trouble Gray had described to Josie. She was the quintessential hostess, working hard to make her household at ease regardless of the circumstances. The Buckley house could be crumbling around them and Charlotte would still be poised on her couch with a demure smile calmly telling her housemates that they should find the nearest exit.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll head upstairs to freshen up before dinner,” Josie said, excusing herself.
“Of course. We dine at seven,” Charlotte answered.
Josie excused herself from the room and made her way up the massive staircase. She had no trouble navigating to her old room, finding it had also changed little. Henry had already brought her luggage up from the car; she found it sitting on the bench at the end of the bed. Opening it, she found a few personal items and carried them to the bathroom.
She stood for a few moments gazing into the mirror. It was hard for her to believe she was back, yet here she was. It was so familiar to her, so easy to slip right back into the fold. She had to make sure she didn’t stay in this house.
“Hey, what are you two doing over there?” a man’s voice yelled.
“Ah, hello, hi,” Michael said, waving his hand. “We’re looking for someone.”
“Looking for someone? Do you realize you’re on private property? The ‘No Trespassing’ sign on the gate should have made that clear,” the man said.
“Yeah,” Michael said, looking back at the open gate marked with the sign he and Damien had ignored. “Yeah, I realize this is private property, but the gate was open. I didn’t see any signs. We don’t mean to intrude but we’re looking for a friend. The man at the hotel suggested we try here,” he fibbed. “Perhaps you can help us?”
“Old Bill Cunningham told you to come to the Buckley estate?”
“Yeah, that’s what Bill said. Here, I have a picture of her,” Michael said, pulling out his phone and bringing up the picture of him and Josie on the screen to show the man.
“That’s your friend?” the ma
n asked, almost as though he didn’t believe them.
“Yep, that’s her,” Michael said. “Have you seen her?”
“Well, yeah, of course. I dropped her off at the house a few hours ago. She didn’t mention guests coming, though.”
“Oh, well, we were a few hours behind her on the train, she might not have known when to expect us,” Damien joined in.
“Did you walk here? If I’d have known, I could have picked you up at the train station. Or you could have had old Bill call me to pick you up at the hotel. Like I said, I didn’t realize you were coming, Mrs. Buckley didn’t mention anything.”
“Oh, no problem, the walk was nice. Like I said, I’m not sure Josie, ah, Mrs. Buckley knew what train we were on,” Damien lied, rephrasing Josie’s name to the name the man had used to add credence to their story.
“Well, no matter, hop on in the car here and I’ll take you up before I head into town.”
“Oh, no don’t worry about it, we can walk it,” Michael said.
“Walk it? It’s about a mile up to the top there. Nah, I’ll drive you.”
“No, really, it’s fine, we’re fine,” Michael declined again as politely as he could.
The man made a face at them. “Why are you two acting so sketchy?”
“Sketchy?” Damien said, with a nervous laugh. “Hahaha, nah, we don’t want to trouble you, that’s all.”
“It’s no trouble, will only take a few minutes.”
“Well, umm, it’s actually, umm… it’s getting late. It’s nearly nine,” Michael said, trying to act nonchalant, “perhaps it’s best if we try back tomorrow. We don’t want to disturb them, they’re probably getting ready for bed.”
“You two walked from town all the way here, ignored a ‘No Trespassing’ sign, came onto private property and first you say you’ll walk up but now you say it’s too late for me to drive you? Listen, you two are either going to get into that car or I’m going to call the sheriff because something isn’t right here.”
Shadows of the Past: A Supernatural Suspense Mystery (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 1) Page 16
