“I’m happy you’re happy,” she told him in a quiet voice that carried across the front yard. “You deserve that and so much more. Live your life, Alex. Patrick and I are moving on. You should too.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I missed you.”
She tapped his nose with the tip of her finger. “We’ll always be best friends.”
“Same here,” Patrick called over jokingly. “Even though I know you like my sister better.”
I made a face, knowing I’d never experience something like this ever again. The trio had momentarily forgotten about Ethan as he knelt in the dirt with a look of utter rage etched into his features. Bittersweet happiness and terror warred in the front yard, but Caroline and Patrick had no intention of letting Ethan ruin the only chance they had to say goodbye to their friend.
Caroline drew away from Alex. “Go.”
“But—”
“Go.”
Alex hesitated, looking between me, Bodhi, and Ethan. I gave him a reassuring nod. “We have this under control,” I told him. “I’ll call you when it’s over.”
“You’re making a mistake, Alex,” Ethan said.
“Shut up,” Bodhi and I chorused.
Alex looked at his friends one last time as he backed toward the dirt road that led into town. “Goodbye, Patrick. Caroline.”
“Bye, Alex.”
“Later, man.”
And then he was gone, disappearing into the trees with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched in sorrow. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief, which Patrick soon echoed. Neither one of them had wanted their friend to witness what came next.
Patrick turned to Bodhi. “Got the rope?”
Bodhi nodded, jogged into the house, and reappeared with the nautical rope that Ethan had used to kill Patrick. It looked worse for wear, bloodied, frayed, and moldy from its time underwater. Bodhi handed it over to Patrick, who swung it between his fingers as he stalked toward Ethan. To my surprise, he untied the knot around Ethan’s hands.
“Get up,” he snarled at the older man.
“No.”
I jumped away as Patrick looped the rope around Ethan’s neck and yanked him to his feet. Ethan choked and stumbled upward. He struggled against his binding, slipping the fingers of one hand beneath the noose to prevent it from tightening too much. With his other hand, he wrenched the rope toward himself in an attempt to stop Patrick from leading him like a dog into the house, but Patrick’s otherworldly abilities outweighed Ethan’s brute strength. He dragged the larger man like a ragdoll, and Ethan had no choice but to blunder along unless he wanted to suffocate on the spot.
As Bodhi and I followed them into the living room, a wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t want to see this. Yes, Ethan was a murderer, and Patrick and Caroline were doing what they had to do in order to free themselves from this life, but I had seen enough death to last me a lifetime. As Caroline restrained Ethan, Patrick swung the other end of the nautical rope up and over one of the exposed beams in the living room. It was the same place Patrick had met his own end. It was where Caroline had once hung Bodhi by a length of invisible rope to prove a point to us. That beam held more terrifying memories that the rest of the house put together.
Patrick used all of his weight to pull down on his end of the rope, the muscles in his back straining. The noose lifted Ethan to balance on his tiptoes. His face turned bright red and spittle flew from his lips as he grappled with the rope around his neck.
“No,” he choked out. “I’m sorry.”
Caroline frowned, regarding Ethan with her arms crossed nonchalantly across her chest. “I don’t think that’s good enough. What do you think, Patrick?”
“Nope.”
And he wrenched the rope again. This time, Ethan’s feet left the ground. The force pushed his breath out with a grunt, and his head looked as though it would pop right off his body. I turned away, hiding my face against Bodhi’s chest. I couldn’t watch this. But a second later, a loud thunk made the floorboards shake.
Patrick had dropped Ethan. The rope slithered off the beam and fell to the floor in a heap. As Ethan heaved for breath, Patrick fell to his knees, covering his head with his hands. Caroline rushed over to him.
“What is it?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“I can’t do it,” Patrick said, his voice shaking. “I can’t kill him. It makes us just as bad as he is.”
“Patrick, he murdered us—”
“I know he did.”
“We have to move on.”
“I know we do!”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a flash of movement. I was so focused on Patrick’s grief that I hadn’t noticed Ethan slowly removing the rope from around his neck and inching toward the sliding glass doors.
“No!” I shouted as Ethan shot to his feet and slipped out into the backyard.
Bodhi was the first to follow him, throwing the glass door wide. He plunged into the wild rose bushes where Ethan’s enormous form had already trampled through the plants. I ran after them, ignoring the thorns that bit and tore at my skin. I could hardly see through the thick foliage, but when I emerged on the other side of the garden, I slammed into Bodhi’s broad back. He had stopped short, breathing hard, and stared across at Ethan. When I looked over, I realized why.
Ethan stood at the edge of the bluff with only open air behind him. In his hand, he held a small gun, and its muzzle was pointed straight at Bodhi’s chest. A harsh red line encircled Ethan’s neck, the leftovers of Patrick’s attempt on his life.
“Did you think it would be that easy?” Ethan asked hoarsely. The gun traveled to point at me. I shook from head to toe but held on to my composure. “I don’t think so. I didn’t work so hard for what I have for two insignificant out-of-towners to come along and ruin it all.”
“Ethan—” Bodhi began.
Ethan brandished the gun. “Shut up! I’m not going to shoot you. After all, why condemn myself?”
“How heroic of you,” I spat, taking Bodhi’s arm.
“Shut up,” Ethan growled again. “Here’s what’s going to happen, morons.” He gestured behind him to where the cliff dropped off. “You’re going to jump off together. A nice little suicide pact between the two of you. It’ll be an easy story to sell. The tragedy of the Winchester accident and the death of your daughter finally caught up to you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Black Bay will forget about you, and I’ll go back to the peaceful way of life that you ruined with your existence.”
“Like hell you will,” said a voice.
Patrick and Caroline had caught up with us. Patrick planted himself squarely between us and Ethan’s gun, but Caroline marched straight across the garden to Ethan’s side. He pulled the trigger. I flinched as the bullet embedded itself in Caroline’s torso, but instead of falling to the ground, she laughed.
“Oh, Ethan,” she said, giggling. “You can’t kill me twice.”
And before anyone had the chance to react, Caroline pushed Ethan off the rock face.
I let out a shocked shriek as Ethan disappeared from view with a garbled yell, but Bodhi held me back from rushing to the bluff’s edge. A few seconds later, a terrifying thud echoed up from the rocks below, followed by a splash that was swallowed by the sound of the waves.
Almost immediately, Caroline and Patrick exploded with the same white light that had surrounded them during the energy transference. A rift opened between them, a doorway of sorts that neither Bodhi or I could look directly into or risk frying our corneas. At first, I wondered if this was what was supposed to happen, but a look at Caroline’s awed expression confirmed this was what she and Patrick were waiting for. Then, with one eyebrow raised as if to ask a question, Caroline glanced my way.
I gestured toward the ethereal doorway. “Go on.”
But Caroline bypassed the doorway and rushed into my arms instead. I hugged her tightly. Then Patrick gathered us both up, waving to Bodhi.
“Get over h
ere, Bodhi.”
Hesitantly, Bodhi joined our group hug. The light of the doorway shined down on us, brightening with every passing moment, as though impatient for Patrick and Caroline to walk through it.
I pulled away from the siblings, wiping my eyes, and shooed them toward the doorway. “Get out of here, you two.”
“What about Ethan?” Patrick asked. Worry colored his tone. He was genuinely concerned with our well-being. “Won’t people ask questions?”
“We’ll handle it,” Bodhi reassured him. “Go.”
Caroline squeezed my hand. “We can’t thank you enough.”
The doorway flickered and dimmed. It was a sign. It was officially time for Patrick and Caroline to go. Gently, I pushed Caroline in the general direction of her afterlife. She grabbed Patrick’s hand and pulled him toward the doorway. Right before they stepped through, both of them turned to look at us.
They’d returned to their teenaged selves again. Seventeen-year-old Patrick grinned at us from beneath the brim of his Black Bay football cap, while fifteen-year-old Caroline smiled and waved excitedly like a happy baby.
“Don’t forget about us,” Patrick called.
“Are you kidding?” said Bodhi. “How could we?”
And then they waved one last time, rotated toward the light, and stepped through the doorway. Bodhi slipped his hand into mine, holding onto my fingers tightly, and we stood like that as the otherworldly light swallowed up Patrick and Caroline and began to fade. Soon the doorway closed completely, leaving Bodhi and I alone on the bluff. All that was left was sunshine.
Epilogue
Bailey, Bodhi, & Baby
Baby number two makes four! Yes, that’s right, ladies and gentleman. I will soon have to change the name of this blog yet again because we are expecting a little girl in addition to our handsome man, Winn. By the way, today is his fourth birthday, and he is pumped, but more on that in a minute. I want the amazing news to sink in with you. A girl! We get a girl!!!!! How many exclamation points are applicable for a scenario like this?!?! One may never know!!
If you couldn’t already tell, I am beyond excited. So are Bodhi and Winn. Well, actually, I’m not sure if Winn has grasped the concept that he won’t be the only little bean begging for our attention anymore. Not that he has to beg, of course. He’s spoiled rotten. Anyway, you all should’ve seen Bodhi in the doctor’s office. He was practically doing backflips. I would’ve actually done backflips, but unfortunately I was never much of a cheerleader.
So! This year, Winn’s birthday falls conveniently on the same day as the summer festival. It’s his favorite town event, so it works out well. He’s dying to play in the flag football tournament with Bodhi and Alex, but he’s not quite old enough. God help me when his tiny fingers grow big enough to actually throw a full-sized football. He’s trouble enough with the miniature foam one that Alex bought him. I’ve already kissed a table lamp and a decorative clock goodbye.
The only bad thing about being pregnant around this time of year is that I must regretfully abstain from Ava’s famous party punch. It figures because I had totally planned to swipe a cup of it in order to analyze the contents and put together a recipe for you guys. Oh well. Maybe next year! In the meantime, you’ll have to settle for this amazing lemon cake I whipped up. Pictures and instructions under the recipe tab!
Naturally, I plan to take a ton of photos today. Talk to me, people! What’s on your agenda for this beautiful afternoon? Going to the beach, hanging out in the park, adventuring through the backwoods? Let me know!
With absolute love,
Bailey
“Babe!”
I glanced up from the desktop computer in my office. Bodhi stood in the doorway, dangling Winn upside down from his ankles. Our little boy laughed raucously, his pristine baby teeth visible from across the room, as his light brown curls—naturally highlighted by all his time in the sun—bounced around on his head.
“I caught a monkey,” Bodhi reportedly breathlessly. He pulsed Winn up and down, causing him to squeal with delight.
“Put him down,” I ordered with a smile.
Bodhi dramatically rolled his eyes. “Fine. Release the beast!”
He lowered Winn to the floor. Winn somersaulted to his feet, sprinted toward me, and climbed up into my lap to try and read my latest blog post.
“I know that word, Mama,” he declared, pointing at the screen. “But not that one. Or that one. Or that one. Or that one—”
“Alrighty,” I interrupted, swinging Winn up onto my hip as I stood up. I groaned. “Sheesh, kid. You’re getting way too big for this. What have you been eating?”
“Whatever you feed me.”
I laughed. “Touché.”
He wriggled to get down so I set him on the floor and he shot off like a wind-up toy. As he rounded the corner, his bare feet working like overactive windmills, I paused in the doorway next to Bodhi.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He pulled me toward him. Our hips pressed together as he wrapped his arms around my waist and bent me over backward to kiss me. I smiled into it and felt his warm lips respond in the same way. When he righted me, he grinned.
“Are you ready for this festival?”
I nodded. “Let’s do it.”
After convincing him to put on his shoes, Winn led the way out, bouncing on the soles of his feet as Bodhi and I trailed along after him. I looked back at our house from the sidewalk. I would probably never get tired of coming home to it. After we had finished renovating the Winchester house, the smaller home had gone on the market in the middle of Black Bay’s cozy little neighborhood. It was just big enough for the three of us, and it had an extra bedroom to convert into a nursery. Not to mention, the front windows boasted a beautiful view of the marina. Bodhi and I had fixed it up and moved in all within months of selling the Winchester house. Out of every house we ever flipped, this one was my favorite, because for the first time in so many years, we had a place that felt like home.
The Winchester house had been sold to a family of five for a price that would allow Bodhi and I to live comfortably in Black Bay for quite some time without having to worry about our finances. The new family was lovely too, and the locals of Black Bay had welcomed them with open arms. Steven worked in IT for a private business, and his wife, Lena, was an artist. That was why they had wanted the house on the bluff. It was a perfect place for Lena to set up her own studio. Winn was friends with their youngest daughter, who was the same age as him, and their eldest daughter babysat for us on a regular basis. We visited the Winchester house often for playdates or dinner parties or art lessons, but we never filled in the new residents on the details of their refurbished home.
With our nomadic phase finished and no other houses to flip in the area, Bodhi and I refocused our attention on other hobbies. Bodhi had established his own business and contracted himself out to work at sites all over the country—and occasionally some overseas—in order to fulfill his wanderlust. Sometimes, Winn and I went with him. In the past five years, we had explored New Zealand’s coastlines, Italy’s various vineyards, and South Korea’s spiciest cuisine, among other adventures in between. But when the travel wore me down, I felt safe and comfortable with Winn in our new home in Black Bay. Bodhi always returned from his jobs happy and rejuvenated, and for me that was more than enough.
Flipping Out morphed into something else entirely. It was now a collection of our daily adventures in Black Bay and the surrounding area. At first, I wrote mostly about the hilarity that came with having a toddler, and my followers ate it up. The site attracted so much traffic that I eventually had to upgrade my overloaded server. Bailey, Bodhi, & Baby became so popular that I was getting calls from big name publishing companies asking me to compile my blog content into a parenting and family book for them to sell. Little did they know, I was already cooking up something along those lines. While my first draft covered the fun of raising a child all over the world, I also wrote i
t with the intention of helping other mourning parents to cope with the loss of their children.
These days, no one even thought about Ethan Powell anymore. Shortly after Caroline and Patrick’s final disappearance, everything magically fell into place. A piece of Ethan’s sunken boat surfaced in the bay, leading the police right to it. Bodhi and I turned in the evidence in our possession, claiming that Ethan had attempted to frame us for withholding it. The Coast Guard found Ethan’s body in the rocks below the bluff, but since everyone in Black Bay had seen us in town that Saturday, the police ruled his death as a suicide. The lumber mill was renamed and the town collectively decided against burying Ethan in the local cemetery beside his parents. The Black Bay Banner published an article to clarify what had really happened to the Winchester family, Bodhi and I were heralded as heroes for discovering the truth, and Ethan Powell got the ending he deserved all along.
A wolf whistle woke me out of my daydreaming, and I looked up to see Alex’s son Anthony skipping toward us as we neared the park for the summer festival. He was fifteen now and had grown to a whopping six feet already. Alex and his wife, Julia, often commiserated about how much he ate.
“There he is!” Anthony announced, kneeling down to Winn’s level. Winn rocketed toward him, yelling like a madman, until Anthony swung him up in one fluid motion so that Winn sat on his shoulders. “Winchester Taylor, front and center!”
Winn drummed on Anthony’s head. “Tony, Tony, Tony!”
“Easy, kid!”
“Sorry about that,” Bodhi chuckled as we walked toward Anthony. Bodhi kept one arm slung across my shoulders. “Are your parents around?”
Anthony pointed across the park where freshly painted white lines marked the edges of the flag football field. There, Alex tossed a football to Julia, who threw it back with just as much force and spin.
“They’re warming up already,” said Anthony. “Wanna join?”
“Heck yeah.”
It was a perfect day for the festival. The sun was out but not too hot, a cool breeze floated in from the bay, and the sky was an impossible shade of blue. As we jogged out to meet the rest of Anthony’s family—we played on the same football team and with Alex’s prowess we reigned as back-to-back summer festival champions for four years—Alex and Julia waved.
The Haunting of Winchester Mansion Omnibus Page 39
