“I’ll not give in to your tomfoolery.” She convinced herself that it was just someone trying to give her a fright. Mary wiped her hands on a rag before ducking out the back door for a much-needed cigarette. Standing along the side of the house, she hid in the shadows so her new employer wouldn’t catch her smoking. She glanced over towards the kitchen window. Mary’s dark brown eyes widened with surprise as she spied the small woman looking down at her from the kitchen window. She blinked once, and the woman was gone.
“Who was that?” she muttered, looking about. She didn’t recall seeing the woman before.
“Talking to yourself already?” A snicker came from behind her. Once again the young woman jumped with fright.
“For goodness sake, you scared the devil out of me,” she exclaimed once she spotted Ned, the groundskeeper. The wispy older man seemed unsteady on his feet.
“No, the devil is hiding in his study, just like he always does,” Ned slurred. The rancid smell of stale whisky assaulted Mary as he spoke.
“Ain’t you a pretty picture.” She took a drag on her cigarette. “I thought that old lady Miller and I were the only women who worked here.”
“Ya.” He shrugged, his eyelids dropping.
“But I just saw some lady standing in the kitchen window,” she said.
“That would be one of the ladies of the house.” Ned yawned and scratched his beard.
“I thought Captain Stratton was a widower?” she asked, truly confused by the events.
“Of his own making,” Ned said gravely. “You get used to seeing them. Mrs. Miller says they keep her company while she’s cleaning the big old house.”
“What are you talking about, you drunken old fool?” Mary snubbed out her smoke.
“He killed them,” Ned said. His eyes drifted to her small pouch of tobacco. “You wouldn’t want to roll one of those for a poor old man would ya?”
“I might, if you tell me what you’re talking about.”
“His wife and his sister, killed them both,” Ned said as Mary began rolling him a cigarette.
“Rubbish.” She wet the edge of the paper with her tongue, smoothed it down, and thrust the neatly rolled smoke at him.
“I was here,” he hissed at her. “I still hear Miranda screaming. She was the maid back then.”
“Right. He murdered his wife and sister and is a free man.” Mary scoffed at the notion.
“A rich and free man,” Ned corrected her. “Never found the bodies, nothing the sheriff could do. Looked like a slaughterhouse,” he said in a shaky voice.
“What did?”
“The kitchen.” Ned snorted. “Why do ya think he has to hire a girl like you from out of state? No one in these parts will set foot in there.” He pointed up towards the window. Mary felt another shiver.
“Believe what you wish, I saw it for myself. We work for the devil. You’ll see soon enough. The ladies can be pranksters,” he said, then sauntered off.
“Go on with you,” she shouted after his retreating figure. He stopped and turned back to her, his eyes narrowed with a sad expression.
“As you wish,” he said coldly. “It was Halloween morning, the kitchen was covered with blood, and my axe that was kept in the woodshed vanished after that day along with the ladies. But maybe they went off on holiday,” he said with a cold sneer before wandering off.
“Crazy old bugger,” Mary muttered before ducking back into the kitchen. She shrieked in horror as she stepped into the smoke-filled room. Mary was frantic. She rushed to the oven and yanked out the charred remains. She dumped the ruined roast into the sink, fearing that her first day of employment would be her last.
“I don’t understand it,” she gasped. She threw open the door in an effort to clear the smoke. Once the smoke trickled out, she checked the oven.
“What in the bloody hell?” She gaped at the oven. “I didn’t set it this high. Oh, there are pranksters about, but they’re quite amongst the living.” She began to prepare a second meal. Mary refused to believe that what had happened was anything more than her co-workers having a lark at her expense.
A month later, after most of her meals were mysteriously ruined, Mary still refused to believe that the events were anything but someone’s idea of a joke. Each time she tried to talk to the staff in an effort to unmask the culprit, she received blank stares and someone telling her that it was the ladies of the house having a bit of fun.
“Mrs. Miller,” Mary bellowed, storming up the staircase. Once again, her work had been destroyed. If it weren’t for the constant pranks, Mary’s job would have been a walk in the park. She was paid very well and rarely saw her employer, who seemed content to lock himself up in the study all day alone. She heard the old man had a son, but the boy never came home from school.
“Mrs. Miller,” she called out when she found the plump older woman toiling in the hall linen closet.
“Now what’s all this fuss about?” Mrs. Miller calmly addressed the irate woman.
“I’ll tell you what the fuss is about,” Mary growled. “A perfect ham, that I spent all day preparing. I left it cooling on the counter, only to see it being tossed out the back door while I was getting a breath of fresh air. You and me are the only ones in the house, and I want to know why you did it.”
“Oh, hush.” Mrs. Miller chuckled as she closed the closet door. “It’s just the ladies having a bit of sport.”
“Don’t hand me that rubbish,” Mary snarled.
“I swear on my poor Johnny’s grave, it’s the truth,” Mrs. Miller said with a broad smile. “They have to have some fun. The boy never comes home, and the old man hides in his study. The old devil only comes out for meals or to trample poor Mrs. Stratton’s garden. Every time he steps out of that study, they’re on him like flies on dung. Serves him right, if you ask me.
“Now, before you start calling me a foolish old woman, just listen to what I have to say. First, I wouldn’t set foot in that kitchen. My brother was working up here when it happened. He was madder than a wet hen when I took a job up here. What choice did I have with Johnny gone and six children to support? My second day here, the old man was running about screaming at someone. ‘Leave me be!’ he kept shouting at the top of his lungs. I thought the old bugger was just loony until I saw her.”
“Saw who?” Mary and Mrs. Miller strolled to the top of the landing.
“Catherine Stratton,” Mrs. Miller said, pointing to the bottom of the staircase. “Standing in the foyer as clear as day, and then in the blink of an eye, she was gone. I was frightened at first, but then I remembered how she and Mrs. Stratton would stroll through town arm in arm, happy as the day was long, and if the boy was with them, they just strutted like peacocks. You wouldn’t have known that they were the richest women in town by the way they would stop and chat with everyone. And they knew who you were. They were two of the sweetest souls to ever walk the earth. If you want my advice, if you’re determined to stay on here, just get along with the ladies.”
“You’re crazier than that drunk Ned,” Mary grumbled.
“Maybe. Then again, Ned never touched spirits until that day. Poor old fool hates himself for staying here.”
Mary threw her hands up in disgust before storming back down the staircase. She felt an icy cold breeze wafting against her body as she stomped through the corridor that led to the kitchen.
“Awfully brisk for this time of year.” She shivered as she swung open the kitchen door. She froze in her tracks when she discovered a petite woman standing in the middle of the room.
“Where is my son?” the woman asked sadly. Mary gaped at her.
“Your what?” Mary’s gaze drifted down the woman’s body, and she released a horrifying shriek when she realized that the woman was missing the lower half of her body, and seemed to be floating in midair. Mary’s heart pounded against her chest, and her knees buckled. Then the woman faded into a mist and was gone. Mary’s eyes rolled back as the room spun, and she collapsed onto the floor
.
Mary had no idea just how long she was lying on the kitchen floor before she awoke.
“I’m sorry,” someone whispered. “No one will come in here to help you. They’re afraid. Are you all right?” Mary blinked open her eyes to discover a misty vision of a tall blonde kneeling beside her. Mary scrambled across the room. She snatched up her thin coat and purse before bolting out the door, never looking back as she tore down the driveway. She didn’t stop running until she reached New York City.
Chapter 36
Stewart, Massachusetts
1957
Katy Ann Stratton stood on the porch of her ancestral home, fidgeting nervously.
“I can do this,” she said. She tried to will herself to put the key in the lock and open the front door.
“Sweetheart, if it makes you that uncomfortable, then just forget I suggested it.” Roland, her fiancé, caressed her shoulder.
“No.” She tried to shake off the years of ghost and ghoulie stories from the townsfolk.
They were just starting out, and money would be tight. Sitting just a short distance from her childhood home was a great big house, falling into disrepair. They could live rent free, and with just a short walk into town catch the train to the city. They could save money while fixing up the old mansion that was more than big enough to start a family. Her father readily agreed, but cautioned her about the house. Her brother had tried to live there back when he was striking out on his own. He lasted ten minutes before he ran screaming from the house.
“Katy Ann, I’m serious. With our parents’ help, we can get an apartment in the city,” Roland said.
“Is that what you want?” she asked. “I want us to be able to stand on our own just as much as you do. It would be foolish to pass up on a free house, a mansion to boot.” She laughed at her silliness.
“Come on.” She slipped the key into the lock.
“Wow.” She gasped as she drank in the craftsmanship.
“Why would anyone simply abandon this place?” Roland St. James said with appreciation. “When was it built?”
“1912,” Katy Ann said. They began to explore the grand old home. “My grandfather had it built for himself and my grandmother.”
“The cemetery is awfully full for it being just the two of them.”
“Distant relatives, and some of the townsfolk mostly, and my grandfather, of course,” Katy Ann said as they entered a large room with mahogany walls and a fireplace.
“Honey, this would be perfect for you,” Roland said. “When you’re drafting late at night, the fire can keep you warm, and I can build you a great big desk and drafting table.”
“You don’t want it?” She nudged him, knowing that he was already eyeing the old barn to use as his woodshop.
“No.” He smiled. “I’ll be out in the barn sawing wood while you create works of art. Wait.” His brow furrowed. “Your grandmother isn’t buried in the cemetery?”
“Um.” Katy Ann hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. “No, she isn’t. My grandfather’s buried in the large crypt in the center of the cemetery. My father had the one on the hill built for his family, which he hopes someday will include his mother and aunt.”
“Your grandmother is alive?” Roland asked enthusiastically. Katy Ann took him gently by the hand.
“I doubt it,” she said, patting his large, calloused hand. “Oh, Roland, sweetie, you know how you’re always saying your family has a colorful past? Well, brace yourself,” she said. The sound of a door slamming echoed through the house.
“What was that?” Roland asked.
“Let’s hope it was the wind,” Katy Ann muttered. “Roland, we don’t know what happened to my grandmother, Anna, or my great aunt, Catherine.”
“You don’t know?” Another door slammed.
“Well, you see, Dad is convinced that my grandfather killed them,” Katy Ann said reluctantly, “then hid their bodies somewhere on the property.”
“Beg pardon?” Roland said with a hard swallow.
“I’ll tell you what I know,” Katy Ann said. The room temperature suddenly dropped. “On Halloween morning, 1916, while my father was away at boarding school, the staff arrived to discover the kitchen covered in blood, and both women missing. The sheriff investigated for years but never found anything that could explain their disappearance.”
“My God, why would someone do something so horrible?” Roland blanched and the hair on the back of his neck prickled.
“The whores deserved it,” an eerie voice hissed.
“Let’s go,” Roland said. He gripped Katy Ann’s hand and dragged her out of the room. They stumbled, both trembling violently. Roland wrapped his arms around his soon-to-be bride. “I love you, but there’s no way we’re living here.”
“Thank you.” Katy Ann hugged him tighter. They jumped with surprise when the front door squeaked open.
“Tell my son that we love him. Now go,” a soft, lilting voice said.
“I will,” Katy Ann promised. A wave of sadness engulfed her. She was crying as Roland guided her out of the house. The tears didn’t stop as they locked the door and walked away.
Katy Ann was still in a somber mood when they stepped up to the doorway of her parents’ home. “Oh, Katy Ann.” Richard sighed deeply as the young couple approached. “I was hoping—” his words were cut off when Katy Ann threw her arms around him and engulfed him in a warm hug.
“Your mother wanted you to know that they love you,” she choked out before taking a step back.
Richard’s eyes filled with tears. He slumped down onto the steps and buried his face in his hands.
“Did she say anything else?” he asked, wiping his eyes.
“To go, so we left.”
“I keep hoping that they’ll let someone stay. Then maybe I’ll find out what happened,” Richard said wearily.
“Sir, I love your daughter more than life itself, but there’s no way we’re living there.” Roland was still shaking.
“I understand.” Richard said. “Well then, Roland, you’re just going to have to help me build an extension to this old place.”
“Daddy—” Katy Ann said.
“No arguments. You kids are just starting graduate school and working,” Richard cut her off. “We can discuss it over dinner.”
Chapter 37
Stewart, Massachusetts
2005
Katy Ann St. James stared out her kitchen window and smiled sadly at the cottage that she had designed, and that her husband and father had built together. They had lived there for many years, until her father passed on. She and Roland moved into the main house with their teenaged children so they could keep a better eye on her mother. Now her son Andrew lived in the cottage, enjoying his freedom while still being able to raid her refrigerator. She sighed deeply when she heard the kitchen door opening.
“Roland, you left your socks on the floor again,” she said without turning around.
“Sorry, Mom, it’s just me,” she heard her daughter say.
Katy Ann smiled brightly, turning to find her firstborn peering into the refrigerator. “Your socks are probably on the floor, as well.”
“Yes, they are, but since I no longer live at home, it’s none of your business,” Delia teased her mother.
“Then get your head out of my icebox.” Katy Ann swatted her daughter playfully. “What brings my brilliant, overworked daughter home?”
“The film people have some papers for us to sign,” Delia said as she pulled leftovers from the refrigerator. “They’re on the table.” She made a plate and put it in the microwave.
“Ever thinking of actually cooking for yourself?” Katy Ann asked, studying the papers.
“Why would I want to do that?” Delia snickered
“Just a thought.” Katy Ann rolled her eyes. “This reads pretty much the same as the others. I hope they have better luck this time. Is Dr. Williams still refusing to go?”
“Yes, can’t say that I blame her.” Delia brough
t her food to the table. “It’s just that she’s gotten closer than anyone else.”
“Tell me about the bracelet,” Katy Anne requested.
“I’m almost positive that it was Anna’s,” Delia said. “I checked with the shop, and I couldn’t find anything else that I could be definite about. There weren’t any records, so it was another dead end.”
“That reporter gave her the bracelet?” Katy Anne asked thoughtfully. “Interesting. Are they a couple?”
“I don’t know.” Delia recalled the bizarre interaction between the two women. “I think they were. Ms. Charles is certainly carrying a torch for Dr. Williams.”
“Maybe that’s the key,” Katy Anne said. “It would be nice to finally put Anna and Catherine to rest.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. There might not be any bodies. He could have dumped them at sea. There’s going to be this detective stopping by. It’s some kind of new angle the television people are working. She’s investigating the murders as if it were a current case.”
“That should be interesting.” Katy Anne smiled. “Now tell me, what are you working on, and how long will you be in town?”
Chapter 38
Atchison, Kansas
2005
“I just want to go home,” Faith whimpered. Every muscle in her body ached. She had endured another long day with Trudy and company. Since Dave’s arrival, everyone’s attitude had suddenly changed. Now that they knew she was working the upcoming Whispering Pines shoot, everyone wanted to be her best friend. Having Trudy sucking up to her was the worst part. She could tolerate the hefty woman when they openly hated one another, but her fake clinging to her was disgusting, and Faith was constantly searching for a sharp object.
“I want to go home,” she wearily repeated as she flopped down onto the hotel bed. She frowned, realizing that she had no home. She had given up her tiny apartment in Boston when she went overseas. Most of her belongings were in storage, and she couldn’t very well stay with Shawn.
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