Belle Manor Haunting

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Fear and regret was the old Addison.

  The new Addison felt relief.

  Relief that came from living her truth.

  “A necro...what?” Flora asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. What does is my reason for being here—to see Sara, Scarlett, Libby, and Josephine get the justice they deserve.”

  Cecilia stared at Harold, the weight of what she’d done setting in, and she collapsed to the ground. The gun fell from her hand, clanking on the floor below. With what little strength Harold had left, he inched his body toward it.

  Addison raised a hand, and the gun flew through the air, landing in her palm like a magnet. She released the remaining bullets from the chamber, tossed the gun to the side, and joined Flora, who was attempting to move Cecilia to the couch.

  Addison hovered over Cecilia. She was still breathing. “She’ll be all right. She needs a few minutes. I think she just passed out.”

  Flora stared down at her friend, her face filled with worry. “I feel awful. I shouldn’t have pushed her just now. And I should have told her the truth long ago. Instead, we lived in the fantasy with her, going along with what she believed because it seemed easier. It may have been, but it wasn’t right.”

  Addison and Flora moved Cecilia to the couch and sat down.

  “Where is Lawrence, Flora?” Addison asked.

  “I suppose if I’m coming clean about everyone else, I may as well come clean about my own actions. Several years after the car crash, CeeCee picked up the phone to make a call, and Lawrence was talking on a different phone in the other room. She overheard him tell Harold about the grief he still felt over what he’d done to his daughter. All those years, CeeCee and I were so stupid. We believed it was a random, hit-and-run driver who was too afraid to confess. What happened next ... well, it was awful, but truth be told, I’ve never felt sorry about it.”

  Harold moaned a weak, “Please, one of you call for an ambulance.”

  Addison and Flora glanced at him, and then Flora continued her story.

  “CeeCee lost her mind when she found out what Lawrence had done. She stabbed him in the back one night while he slept. She thought she’d killed him, but she hadn’t. She called me, and she was a frenzied mess. She said he was moaning and thrashing around. He kept trying to get up, but he couldn’t. I went straight over.”

  “What did you do?”

  Flora looked Addison in the eye. “I finished the job she started. Hard to say which one of us put the final nail in his coffin. Suppose we both did. I thought of Sara, of how much I missed her sweet face, how much I missed the CeeCee I knew when Sara was alive, and it was an easy decision. I was filled with rage, and ... well, rage changes a person.”

  “Where is his body?”

  Flora tipped her head toward a jar sitting on the mantel over the fire. “He’s in there.”

  “And where’s Libby?”

  “Beneath the addition that was built on the back of the manor.”

  It was why Addison had seen Libby in the window, and why Lawrence lingered around, roaming the halls at night, torturing a woman he once professed to love.

  “After Lawrence was dead, CeeCee’s mental state continued to decline,” Flora said. “She started seeing things, believing Lawrence was still here in the house, believing Harold was Lawrence. She seemed to have forgotten all about what she’d done.”

  “I see now why you indulged her fantasy.”

  “Now you know my truth. Do what you want with it. I’m done lying.”

  Harold moaned a desperate, “Call 9-1-1. Please. The blood. I can’t stop it. I need help.”

  Addison walked toward Harold, knowing what had to be done.

  “We won’t be calling for help,” she said. “It’s time for you to be shown where you’re meant to go.”

  “Where? What do you mean?”

  “One question, first. Why did you keep the necklace?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I didn’t keep it. I hid it inside a vent in the room I used to stay in upstairs. It seemed safe there, so I left it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Addison raised her hands in front of her. The wall burst into flames, opening a portal to a world Addison had never seen.

  A terrified, flabbergasted Harold grabbed Addison by her pant leg, begging. “Please! What are you doing? Don’t do this!”

  The decision had been made.

  “Harold DuPont, as judge and jury, I am the final decision of your fate,” Addison said. “You robbed a young woman of an innocent life, and now you must atone. Go, and inhabit this world no more.”

  Hands engulfed in fire within the portal wrapped around Harold’s neck, pulling him down as he writhed and wailed until there was nothing left of him. Then the portal closed, and the room returned to normal again.

  Flora looked like she wanted to run, but she froze in place instead.

  “You have nothing to fear from me,” Addison said. “I know your secret, and now you know mine. I expect you to keep what you’ve seen here today to yourself.”

  “Umm, yeah ... sure. Whatever you need.”

  “Good. Someone will be coming to exhume Libby’s body. No one will ever know you or Cecilia had any knowledge of it being there.”

  “I’m not a good person,” Flora said. “I don’t deserve saving.”

  “What matters most is what’s in your heart, and you have a good one. I can feel it.”

  Addison leaned over, whispering into Cecilia’s ear. “Your mother loves you. Never forget.”

  She waved a hand over Cecilia’s eyes, and they opened. Cecilia looked up at Flora and said, “What happened? Am I okay?”

  A tearful Flora smiled and nodded. “Yes, you’re okay, CeeCee. We both are.”

  Addison stood inside the room where Libby had once been seen staring down at her through the window. The view outside was beautiful, the forest offering a serene feeling of calm, a perfect mask for the chaos saturating the walls of Belle Manor. The door slammed shut, and Addison spun around, canvassing the room, looking for him.

  To the naked eye, it appeared no one was there.

  She knew better.

  Lawrence’s presence spread through the air like an infectious disease, suffocating everything it touched. He pitied himself. He felt victimized, ejected from the lavish life he was meant to live. Trapped in the house since his death, his only recourse had been to vex Cecilia, haunting her until she’d gone mad.

  “Lawrence Belle, show yourself,” Addison said. “I command you to appear.”

  Menacing laughter permeated throughout the room.

  The window rattled so hard Addison thought it would shatter. She raised a hand in front of her and released the hold he had, not just on the window, but on the manor itself.

  A dark heaviness entered the room, and from it, Lawrence manifested.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he growled. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “You’re a murderer, and I’m here to make it right. Today it ends. You’ll no longer haunt Cecilia or torment Libby. You murdered your child, and I suspect you killed Josephine, too.”

  “Josephine was too involved for her own good. She wanted to separate Cecilia from me.”

  “So, you killed her.”

  “I did what had to be done. I never meant for Sara to die.”

  “I believe you. But it doesn’t matter. If I would have known you back then, the man you were before the man you became, I would have told you to lead a life that made you happy instead of a facade. The issue isn’t whether you loved a man or a woman. You led yourself to a dark place, a place you chose when you decided murder was a better solution than honesty. You deserved what Cecilia and Flora did to you.”

  He rushed toward Addison, his hands grappling for her neck, shocked when he failed to touch her skin. He turned his hands upward and stared at his palms, confused.

  “You no longer have power, Lawrence. I have stripped it fr
om you, and now it’s time for you to go.”

  The portal split open, and Harold walked through, his charred body burning from the inside out. Lawrence backed away, shouting, “No! You can’t take me! I won’t go!”

  Harold wrapped his hands around Lawrence’s neck, engulfing him in flames until Lawrence burst apart.

  The portal closed once more, and Addison stood there a moment, staring at the wall, hoping it would be a long time before the portal needed to be opened again, but knowing somehow it wouldn’t.

  “You can come in now, Libby,” Addison said. “It’s over.”

  Libby rounded the corner and stepped inside, facing Addison. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”

  “The one who you need to thank is Sara. Because of her, I’m here. Lawrence and Harold have been dealt with, and I will make sure your family gets the closure they’ve waited so long to receive. Now, let’s free you from this place.”

  Addison swirled her hand in a circle. A bright beam of light filled the room. When it settled, Scarlett was standing in its center. She ran to Libby, and they embraced.

  “I always knew you’d find me,” Libby said.

  Scarlett stepped back, glancing at Addison. She nodded but said nothing, and she didn’t need to—the expression on her face said it all. Scarlett held a hand out toward Libby. She took it. Together they entered the afterlife, and Addison smiled, satisfied her work here was done.

  “I know where Libby’s body is buried,” Addison said into the phone.

  “You serious?” Briggs asked. “Where?”

  “I’ll tell you, under one condition. Cecilia Belle has been through a lot in her life. So has her sister-in-law, Flora DuPont. They don’t need to be put through anything else when word gets out.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they’re far from the noise these types of situations cause. Believe me, I understand what scrutiny is like. You can trust me. I give you my word.”

  Trust.

  It was a fickle, fleeting thing.

  Still, she’d offer Libby’s location, allowing him a chance to earn the trust she was about to bestow on him. She outlined the story for Briggs in a way that freed Cecilia and Flora from any wrongdoing. Libby was buried beneath the addition to the house. She’d been murdered by Harold, who’d been pressured by Lawrence to take care of the situation when they’d been caught.

  Then Scarlett came snooping around. She’d been caught with Libby’s necklace. Lawrence decided she needed to be dealt with and had sent her on a specific errand, which placed her at a quiet intersection where he wouldn’t have trouble making his getaway once the deed was done. He’d only mistook one thing—he didn’t know his daughter would be in the car.

  Briggs had more questions than answers Addison couldn’t give them if she wanted to spare Cecilia and Flora from being charged as accessories to murder, or with murder themselves.

  “Are you trying to tell me neither one of their wives had any idea what went on?” he asked.

  “I’m asking you to leave them out of it. Whether they knew or they didn’t, what Harold and Lawrence did wasn’t their fault. They had no part in the murders.”

  “That’s one hell of a condition.”

  “It’s been decades, Briggs. Give Scarlett and Libby’s families closure and let that be the end of it.”

  “How do you know all this?” he asked.

  “It’s better if I don’t say.”

  “Better for you?”

  “This isn’t about me. I’m not thinking of myself here.”

  “What about Lawrence and Harold? Where can I find those two bastards?”

  “They’re gone. Lawrence hasn’t lived at the manor for many years. Flora DuPont has been taking care of Cecilia all this time.”

  “How am I supposed to—”

  “Do you believe in karma, Briggs?” Addison asked.

  “I’d like to think it exists. S’pose I don’t, though.”

  “I do, and I believe Harold and Lawrence got what they deserved.”

  “Think so? Guess you won’t elaborate on that, either.”

  He was right.

  Best she didn’t.

  One of Addison’s fondest memories was a trip she’d taken with her father after she graduated from high school. She’d spent four years learning Spanish, and he’d rewarded her hard work with a surprise trip to Spain. They rented a villa overlooking the ocean, and she’d wake early each morning, wrap a blanket around her, and sit outside, waiting for the sun to rise.

  For years, she’d wanted to go back and hadn’t.

  Not until today.

  When his name left her lips and she invited him in, she felt a sense of unity, confirmation that her decision to make contact was right. In the distance, a man dressed in black walked toward her. She stood, brushed the sand off the bottom of her dress, and clasped her hands together, waiting.

  He reached her, and a smile spread across his face.

  “I thought this day would never come,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m here, looking at you. It doesn’t seem real.”

  “It is.”

  Corbin was tall and slender, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes the shade of a robin’s egg. There was a kindness about him. She could feel it. But he was also shrouded in mystery.

  He turned his head and stared out into the ocean. “This place, it’s beautiful. Where are we?”

  “I decided it would be good if we met somewhere neutral for the first time. I imagined one of my favorite places, and here we are.”

  “Can I ...? Is it all right to touch you, to give you a hug?”

  She nodded.

  He pulled her close, and they embraced.

  “I’ve thought about you my entire life,” he said. “I tried to imagine what you looked like, what kind of person you turned out to be. All I have ever wanted was to find you.”

  “I didn’t know you existed until a few days ago. But then, there are a lot of things I didn’t know until a few days ago. I thought my dad, the one who raised me, was my real father.”

  “Is he a good man, the one who raised you?”

  “He’s great.”

  “Then, in many ways, he’s still your father.”

  He was right, and when she returned home, she’d make things good again.

  “Did your father, or I guess I should say our father, tell you about me?” she asked. “Did he tell you about our mother?”

  He nodded. “I’ve heard stories about their relationship, and I know what happened in the end. He told me about the deal Marjorie made with him. He loved her, you know, our mother?”

  “I think she thought he used her to create us—a special breed, so to speak.”

  “It was complicated. He wanted us all to be together, to raise us with the full use of the power we possess. He thought he could sway her to see things his way, but she hated magic. He never wanted to leave you. It was a hard decision.”

  “He still made it.”

  Corbin’s expression was one of empathy.

  She wasn’t the only one who had missed out—he had, too.

  “Tell me about your life,” he said. “What was it like?”

  “I knew I was different than other kids as a child, but it was something I didn’t understand. My mother never relented on her decision to keep magic out of my life, and for a long time, it was dormant. Several years ago, she was in a car accident and died. I inherited our family’s manor, a manor I hadn’t known about before her death, and the moment I stepped foot inside of it, everything changed. I’ve been learning more and more about who I am ever since.”

  “She’s ... dead?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure you hoped you would be able to connect with her now, but you should know she never forgot about you.”

  “I wish I could have met her.”

  “What’s our father like?” Addison asked.

  “He is many things. Determined. Headstrong. He is a good father, but he has many expectations, and sometim
es in his haste to achieve what he wants, and what he believes is important, he doesn’t think things through.”

  “In what way?”

  Corbin pushed his hands inside his pockets, thinking. “Let’s talk more about him another time. Right now, I want to focus on you. What do you do with the power you possess?”

  “Lost souls come to me, those trapped here on earth after they have died because of an event that kept them from moving on. I help them find their way. I send them into the afterlife.”

  “Always to heaven, never to hell?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I felt something today, earlier, before you called my name. You opened the portal.”

  She fiddled with the ring on her finger. “I made a decision I’ve never had to make before, one I never knew I could make until now.”

  He stared at her hand. “It makes sense. You have the stone.”

  “Sybil gave it to me. How do you know about it?”

  “Our father has been around for centuries. He’s known Sybil for ages. I know of the ring’s significance. It’s been out of play for a long time. It holds more power than you know.”

  Oh, she knew.

  “I have no interest in power for myself.”

  “You misunderstand me. The ring itself is power. It’s all the energy of the universe combined. My father said if it was ever passed to one of Sybil’s descendants again, the bearer of the stone would rule on behalf of both worlds.”

  “Are we talking heaven and hell, or ...?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I have no interest in ruling over anything. I opened the portal to send two men where they deserved to go.”

  He nodded. “Don’t you see? You could do so much more. You could place judgment on entire countries if you wanted.”

  She did see.

  She saw her father’s influence.

  It was why she’d been given the ring, why Joan and Sybil put their faith in her.

  She assumed her father would relish the idea of a daughter who had the ultimate gift bestowed upon her. If so, if they ever crossed paths, he would be disappointed. He’d never get the daughter he’d always wanted.