Whispering Pines

by Mavis Applewater

  “I’ll go,” Carey said. “I’ll explain our findings, and then Rishi and I can go over everything with Faith in another room. We have pictures and lots of documents. It will be fine.”

  “Althea, I know you want the same freak show you got the last time,” Faith said, “but either you accept the terms of my contract or I’m out of here.”

  “And if she goes, I’m certain Dr. Williams will follow,” Carey added.

  “Absolutely,” Shawn said as she joined the agitated group.

  “Fine.” Althea finally conceded. “Jasper, Detective Jessup, we need to set up. Now!” she barked. “Freddie, I want you to do a second setup in the main room with Faith and Dr. Kapoor, to have them discuss the DNA and everything else.”

  “He’s afraid of you,” Shawn whispered to Rishi. “I’m sorry. I’m Dr. Shawn Williams,” she said.

  “Dr. Rishi Kapoor,” he replied. “I’m the forensics geek.”

  “Yes.” Shawn nodded. Faith watched the man shifting nervously.

  “What did she mean?” Shawn finally asked. “When she said that he’s afraid of you?”

  “How did you know about that?” Rishi asked.

  “That’s what she said,” Shawn said. “In the kitchen, the first time you were here. He’s afraid, because you hold a secret that could disgrace him.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Rishi asked.

  “The answer is in the envelope,” Shawn said vaguely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It just happens.”

  “You really are a psychic,” Rishi said. Faith smiled slyly, knowing that, despite his attitude, Rishi believed in what Shawn was saying.

  “We should go inside and get this over with,” Faith said, offering Rishi an escape from the conversation. “Why don’t you go over your findings with me, and we can work on how to do this for the camera?”

  “I’d appreciate the help,” Rishi said. “I’m not good with people. Having a camera in my face isn’t something I’m looking forward to.”

  “After a couple of seconds, you forget it’s there.” Faith hesitated by the front door. She exhaled a terse breath and glanced over her shoulder. She calmed as she spied Shawn following closely behind. “So, Rishi, what’s in the envelope?”

  “Oh, um, just the DNA results,” he muttered. They finally stepped into the manor.

  Faith held her breath for a moment, waiting for something to happen. She sighed with relief when the only activity that greeted her was the film crew trying to get ready. “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Charles,” Freddie said, guiding Faith to her mark in front of the main fireplace. “I’ll hold up the cue cards.”

  “Don’t bother.” Faith smirked. “Just start filming.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me, Althea will love it.” Faith smiled brightly, intercepting a curious look from Shawn. She was lingering behind Kyle, who was balancing a heavy camera on his shoulder. “Anytime you’re ready.”

  “Fine,” Freddie said. “Action.”

  “Good evening, I’m Faith Charles,” she said confidently. “Three years ago today, I was invited to film a Halloween special here at Whispering Pines, the former home of Captain Horatio Stratton, and his young wife, Anna. That night, my job was to prove that nothing out of the ordinary was happening in this quaint New England manor. Instead, I encountered something I had never experienced before. It was a terrifying ordeal, one that I will never forget.

  “Tonight we are, once again, seeking answers to what happened in this house over eighty years ago. Joining me are Dr. Shawn Williams, a professional ghost hunter who was with me the last time I set foot in this house, Detective Carey Jessup of the New York Police Department, Dr. Rishi Kapoor, who is a member of the NYPD CSI Unit, James Simmons, a professional naysayer, as I once was, and our original film crew. Well, those of the crew who were brave enough to return. Even now, I’m not certain I want to be here, and I refuse to enter the kitchen of this once stately home. Why, you ask?

  “Eighty years ago, the staff that had worked for the Stratton family for years entered the manor. They found Captain Stratton sitting by this fireplace, relaxed and smoking his pipe. Nothing seemed amiss until Miranda Wilkins, the maid, entered the kitchen and discovered it covered with blood. Most of the staff fled the house, never to return. Mrs. Anna Stratton and her sister-in-law, Catherine Stratton, were never seen or heard from again. Or were they? Three years ago, I entered that kitchen and was attacked by something I couldn’t see. What happened in this house eighty years ago? That’s what we’re here to find out. Dr. Kapoor?”

  “Cut!” Freddie called out. “Wow, that was perfect.”

  “Not quite.” Althea had entered during the filming. “Hold on, Faith, I like it. But I need to change a couple things. Add the part about the murders last. I want you to interview Detective Jessup first, then Dr. Kapoor. Also, I want you to add that a second film crew tried to investigate last spring, and was driven out of the house. You can’t go into detail. Then we’re going to edit in what happened to you and Shawn the first time you were here.”

  Faith rolled her shoulders while Althea scribbled some notes. She waited patiently while Althea went over them again and again.

  “We’ll cut after you say ‘that’s what we’re here to find out.’ Bobby, I’ll need a couple of chairs set up in front of the fire,” she instructed her PA.

  “Okay, that will work,” Faith said, once again taking her place in front of the fire. “So, I do the spiel, and then interview Carey, Dr. Kapoor, James Simmons, and Shawn last?”

  “On five.” Althea nodded, seemingly pleased by the way things were going.

  Faith repeated her introduction with the changes Althea had made. It was easy, since it was almost exactly what she had just said. The only things troubling her were the way James Simmons, this year’s naysayer, was glaring at her from a far corner of the room, and that the house seemed almost too quiet. After her first visit, she had been on edge, waiting for all hell to break loose; so far nothing had happened.

  Once she had completed the introduction, Althea bellowed, “Cut!” Then she demanded that the set of chairs be put in place. Faith glanced around nervously, feeling uncomfortable.

  “How are you holding up?” Shawn whispered as they waited for the chairs to be set up and everything double-checked with light meters.

  “I hate dressing up,” Faith said, her gaze still darting around nervously. “Before, I could be comfortable.”

  “You’re doing fine.” Shawn gently stroked her arm.

  “I don’t know,” Faith whispered. “It’s just like last time, only with more people. Everything’s quiet, and I know it isn’t going to stay that way. Last time, when I first arrived, I thought, what’s the big deal? Then Milo went screaming into the night, and I was slapped. The serene setting isn’t fooling me this time. It’s scaring the bejesus out of me.”

  “Everything isn’t quiet,” Shawn said softly. “They’re here, and he isn’t happy. Something’s keeping him at bay. It won’t last. Once we start searching, he’s going to freak out.”

  “You still think they’re in the house?” Faith asked tersely. Althea waved for her to take her place.

  “Yes,” Shawn replied. “I just don’t have a clue as to where in the house. If I did, we could get the hell out of here.”

  “That would be nice,” Faith murmured, her pulse quickening as the memory of the morning after their first ordeal invaded her senses. She and Shawn had wrapped up the shoot and spent the entire weekend in bed getting to know one another.

  “Charles!” Althea barked.

  “Coming,” Faith snapped.

  Faith and Carey took their places in the chairs that had been placed in front of the fire.

  “What do I do? I’m not accustomed to doing interviews for the camera.” Carey fidgeted.

  “Relax.” Faith smiled, pleased that Carey was more concerned with having to speak in front of the camera than with dwelling on the past. “I ask questions and you answer. I
t’s that simple.”

  “Oh, easy for you to say, you do this all the time,” Carey said, trying to balance her notes and files.

  “You’ll be fine. I’ve reviewed your notes so I can sound like I know what I’m talking about, and remember, you can always shoot me if I annoy you.”

  “I’m feeling better already.” Carey grinned. “Damn, I never thought I’d be sitting here, talking with you. After this is over, are you heading back to New York?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “I take it that you and Dr. Williams have ironed out your differences.”

  “Yeah, and I promised not to skip the country without telling her.”

  “She’d probably appreciate that. So, how do we start?”

  “I’ll introduce you, go over your credentials, and start asking about the investigation,” Faith explained. “We really should include the early reports of spousal abuse, and then you can explain what you did and what you’ve discovered.”

  “That sounds easy enough. Um, just one thing. We can’t mention the case that Shawn worked on in New York. My department is very leery about it getting out that the case was solved by a psychic.”

  “Fancy that.” Faith snorted, knowing that Althea must be pissed. “No problem. Now sit up straight, and when in doubt, we can stop filming. Ready?”

  “Thanks,” Carey said warmly.

  “Are we ready, ladies?” Althea asked.

  “Feel free to shoot her, too,” Faith muttered before flashing Althea a bright smile. “Yes, we’re ready, oh great one.”

  “You’re such a pain in the ass,” Althea said. “On five.”

  Faith introduced Carey and told of her years as a homicide detective for NYPD. She turned towards Carey and asked how she got involved with the case. Gently, Faith eased her into discussing her findings. Carey proceeded slowly, finally warming up to the situation. She covered everything and had just begun discussing the fateful morning when the staff fled the manor. Suddenly, the power shut down.

  “Hate it when that happens,” Faith snarled. The crew grumbled. “Something I’ve gotten used to. Seems the little buggers just love draining batteries.”

  “I don’t think that’s what happened,” Shawn said tersely. “The fire is out as well.”

  Faith’s gaze darted around nervously as she suddenly realized that the temperature in the room had dropped dramatically.

  “Oh crap,” she whispered, her body tensing as she spied her breath leaving puffs in the air. Suddenly, the front door flew open, the windows rattled, and a loud boom filled the room. She braced herself, preparing for the worst. She saw Carey clinging to her chair.

  “Welcome to Whispering Pines,” she said, placing a comforting hand on Carey’s arm in an effort to keep her from fleeing.

  The crew scurried about, searching for the problem that had caused the power to shut down. Shawn shrugged on her coat in an effort to fend off the sudden chill that had filled the room. She was amazed that, despite the numerous times the crew had experienced a sudden power loss, they were still checking the generator in the van. Shawn scowled at the way Freddie kept Faith busy. Normally, Shawn was fine on her own, but being here filled her with an overwhelming need to stay close to Faith.

  “So, got a deck of cards?” Carey asked, shoving her hands in her leather jacket.

  “I’m sure if you ask the crew you’ll find one. One of them usually carries a deck.” Shawn laughed, noticing the similar gestures Carey shared with Faith.

  “Yeah, picked up on the whole ‘hurry up and wait’ thing back in Salem,” Carey tried to joke, but the troubled look in her eyes revealed her true feelings. “Faith seems to be on top of things.”

  “Not really.” Shawn watched Faith. “This place…” her voice trailed off.

  “I couldn’t help notice that you’re trying to stay very close to her,” Carey said. “In Salem and New York, you seemed fine to venture off.”

  “I don’t like this place,” Shawn said grimly. “There’s trouble brewing. This little power failure is just the beginning. Of course, I just bet you’re going to disagree, aren’t you, Jimmy?” she asked the older man who approached them.

  “Yes,” he said in a bored tone. “Don’t you think it’s possible that the power went down because of all the lights and cameras the crew is running off of one generator? It might have been easier if the family had the power turned back on for this. James Simmons,” he said to Carey, who frowned at his tone of voice.

  “Carey Jessup,” she said politely. Shawn snickered, knowing that Carey had picked up on Jimmy’s try at acting suave in a lame attempt to impress her. Then again, he was always hitting on her and Faith, ignoring that they had made it perfectly clear they weren’t interested in him.

  “If I can be of any assistance,” he continued, apparently oblivious to the way Carey was rolling her eyes.

  “Dr. Williams has been more than helpful, thank you.” Carey stepped back slightly, creating a little space between her and the older man. Jimmy closed the gap between them, forcing Carey to move away. She bumped into Shawn, who laughed when Carey brushed against her.

  “What’s so funny?” Carey asked.

  Shawn bit down on her lip. “Nothing,” she said with a smirk.

  “As I was saying,” Jimmy prattled on. “If you need help learning the ropes, I’m available.”

  “I’m fine,” Carey growled.

  “Back off,” Faith said, approaching the group.

  “Faith, my favorite brunette.” Jimmy smiled at her. “It’s so nice working with you again, although I am disappointed that you sold out.”

  “I haven’t, you lowly jackass,” Faith growled in the identical manner her younger sibling had just done. “Now, shoo,” she added, waving at him. “Go on!”

  “Okay, now that he’s gone,” Carey said. “What was so funny?”

  “What you were thinking,” Shawn said. “‘At times like this, I’m so glad I carry a gun.’”

  “Can I borrow it?” Faith asked merrily.

  “No.” Carey smiled slightly. “Is he always so charming?”

  “Yes,” Faith said. “Even after I threatened to castrate him. He took it as a come-on. The power’s back up. Are you ready to give it another try?”

  Shawn watched as the siblings went back to the chairs in front of the fire. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she felt suddenly uneasy. Carey seemed calm as she explained her findings. She ran through the list of spousal abuse reports, the witness statements, and the sheriff’s findings.

  “They searched the basement,” she whispered, her stomach churning as strange images assaulted her. She was only vaguely aware of Carey explaining that a team from the Massachusetts State Crime Lab had indeed searched the basement earlier that week.

  “Not there, not the garden,” she whispered, stepping away from the others so her voice wouldn’t be heard during filming.

  She stumbled out onto the porch and buried her face in her hands. The images were coming quickly, much too quickly for her to decipher. She could see a backhoe digging up a garden, then the police crawling around the basement, searching for some small clue that all was not what it appeared to be. There was another image, a drawing. Each time, it slipped away just as quickly as it appeared.

  “A sketch, a diagram, what are you?” Her eyes drifted towards the back of the house. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as she watched Horatio pour kerosene over the shards that had once been beautiful furniture. Shawn fought against the bile rising in her throat as he grabbed another canister, doused the remains of Anna’s and Catherine’s clothing and furniture, and trailed the kerosene off towards the garden.

  She watched in horror as a man pestered the captain with questions while he set everything ablaze.

  “‘Why are you burning their belongings if they’re coming back?’” Shawn whispered the words that were echoing through her mind.

  * * *

  “At the time, everyone was under the impress
ion that Captain Stratton was sailing to far-off places,” Carey continued, having finally relaxed in front of the camera.

  “The truth was, he mostly sailed from Hayden Wharf, located in town and owned in part by the Stratton family, up to Cape Ann, and down to Newport. His career at this point was less than stellar. Many times, when he left his family, he didn’t have a voyage scheduled at all. He spent a great deal of time in Rhode Island, patronizing houses of ill repute. This would explain why he could return often to surprise his wife, whom he was convinced was unfaithful.”

  “And was she?” Faith prompted.

  “There’s no evidence that there was another man in Mrs. Stratton’s life,” Carey said. “There’s also no evidence he could have disposed of his wife’s or sister’s body at sea, given the limited area he was allowed to travel.”

  “You brought in a CSI expert from New York and worked with the Massachusetts crime lab. Have you found anything to suggest that there was a murder?” Faith asked with a slight smile, amazed by her younger sister’s capability.

  “The kitchen, the witness statements, and of course, the fact that neither woman was ever seen or heard from again, lead me to believe that their disappearances were suspicious,” Carey said. “Plus, by all accounts, Mrs. Stratton was completely devoted to her son and would never have abandoned him.”

  “Have you, or the team of experts, found anything to support your conclusion?” Faith asked, hoping that they had found something, anything, that might help bring Anna and Catherine peace.

  “No,” Carey said. “The garden was excavated after the captain’s death, the grounds searched just last week, and the basement and house checked up and down, and still we have no evidence, other than the damage in the kitchen, that a crime had occurred. If this crime happened yesterday, and not eighty years ago, with the available evidence, no charges could be brought.”

  Faith continued with the interview, knowing that she had to ask certain things so Althea could tie in the film that had already been shot the previous week. She also had to get Carey to talk about the strange occurrences she had witnessed while investigating the house. Next, she interviewed Rishi, who explained that the DNA discovered in the kitchen was unreadable, but the tool markings of the gashes were consistent with an axe that would have been manufactured around the time of the women’s disappearances.