The Garden (Haunted Series) Read online

  “Never met him.”

  “But how?”

  “Without permission I can’t talk about the hows and whys with you.”

  Audrey shook her head. “I was just curious. What can you tell me?”

  “That she hung herself right above us. They found her with her neck broke, eyes open and gazing at her garden.”

  Audrey pushed herself away from the window and almost fell as she rushed to get away from that spot. She pushed her hair back. “Sorry, I’m just a bit superstitious.”

  Alan stood there a beat to let her know he wasn’t afraid, before joining her at the other end of the room. “The family claimed her hanging herself proved that the old girl was nuts and nearly got the new will disqualified.”

  “Seems like they had a case,” Audrey said, buttoning her cardigan to stave off the chill in the air.

  “Except the week the will was drawn up, Ms. Gruber sat on a federal Jury. Our argument was, if the federal prosecutor deemed her fit for a jury then…”

  “She was in her right mind,” Audrey filled in. “Let’s see if we can find those last two bathrooms before I have to use one,” she joked.

  Alan nodded and escorted her out of the room. He shut the door firmly behind him, noticing the hall was much warmer than the library. “I don’t have the key so I better not lock it,” he explained.

  They walked down the hall towards the attic access door. A faint squeak of a doorknob being turned went unnoticed as they opened the wood door to the attic. And as they started up the steps, the library door opened, and the chill of the dead moved out into the warm hall.

  Chapter Two

  Mia was stuck, pinned between joists. They had been snaking a cable between the drywall ceiling and the insulated roof of the converted barn when she lost hold of the guide wire. She lunged for it and succeeded in retrieving it when a nail caught her hoodie. She couldn’t move backwards or forwards as her foot was twisted under a beam. It was dark up there, but with her hood over her face, it was pitch black now. She let loose with a string of curses that celebrated motherhood in the basest way.

  “Minnie Mouse, Murphy’s gone for the bar of soap. What’s going on?” Ted asked from the far end of the attic.

  “I’m stuck. Wedged in,” she explained.

  “It was that last dozen crullers, wasn’t it?” Ted said.

  Mia laughed at the audacity of the man. She would get even for the comment, even though she knew he didn’t mean it. At her diminutive height, Mia’s weight wasn’t a problem. Sure, she was curvy but still fit enough to run a marathon or chase a few ghosts. Right now she didn’t regret the donuts but the coffee she washed it down with. She had to pee. “Teddy Bear, I’m caught on a nail, and my foot’s wedged. I do however still have hold of the guide wire. I can’t see as my hood is over my head. So unless you want to scrap this project and replace a urine-soaked ceiling, I suggest you find a way to get me out of this predicament.”

  She heard him start to laugh but think better of it. “I’m coming. Honestly, one can’t get good help these days,” he said.

  Mia listened to Ted make his way down the ladder and move through the converted barn space. A few muted curses coinciding with the sound of moving furniture, gave testament that he was hurrying and had collided with the items between him and his goal. She smiled. It seemed like Ted was always rescuing her. He and Murphy seemed to have their hands full when it came to Mia. She liked this. It was nice to have someone that had your back in things. Her whole childhood she had been left hanging. Now both the spirit world and the corporal world had people in it that cared. A small tear rolled down her face.

  “Almost there, pumpkin,” Ted said as he moved over the joists.

  Mia laughed. “Pumpkin? That’s a new one.”

  “The way that you’re wedged in and those orange cargos…”

  “Don’t say it,” she warned.

  “Makes your ass look like a pumpkin,” he finished.

  “Teddy Bear,” Mia said through clenched teeth. “This is an example of adding insult to injury. When I get down, I’m going to injure you for insulting me.”

  “Then why should I get you down? And that would be adding injury to insult.”

  “You pedantic son of a bitch, get me unstuck,” Mia growled. She used her free hand to unlatch the hood of her sweatshirt from the nail.

  Ted reached her and gently untied her boot to be able to ease her foot out of it. He then twisted the boot until he freed it from where the compression web met the bottom cord. He then put the boot back on to protect Mia’s foot from any loose insulation. “K. Your foot is free, now let’s see if I can reel in this fish.”

  “Who are you calling a fish? Honestly, you have to work on your compliments,” Mia said with mock irritation. She felt his large hands on her ribcage and the gentle tugs until she was freed from the small space. She moved backwards until she landed in Ted’s lap, still holding on to the guide wire.

  He took the wire from her saying, “You’re good.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “I know.”

  He stared at her a moment and leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. She responded and enjoyed a few seconds of bliss.

  “Time to finish this job. Besides, making out in an attic is a bit creepy,” Ted admitted.

  “Yes, attics can be creepy places,” Mia agreed and followed Ted back to the ladder.

  ~

  Audrey and Alan had only climbed a few steps when the light faded. They looked up to see a dense gray mass forming at the top of the stairs. Alan put an arm out to protect and steady Audrey as the mass quickly morphed into a human shape and moved down the stairs towards them. Retreat was impossible with the speed the entity was moving. There was no room to get out of its way, but they did their best to flatten themselves against one wall.

  Alan could feel Audrey tremble as the thing took shape. A woman in a Victorian maid’s uniform with a red rose embroidered on the apron, moved gracefully down the stairs. She was carrying folded linen, and as she moved past them, her elbow and part of her bundle disappeared into their bodies only to emerge on the other side as she descended the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she turned and called, “Come on, you know how she is when we’re late.”

  They turned and saw another thin woman at the top of the stairs.

  “Mary Mary’s always fussing. One of these days I’m going to get out of this here place and find me a better situation.”

  “You do that and take me with you,” the older woman sighed.

  The younger woman moved past Alan and Audrey before she and her workmate disappeared.

  “Oh my god, did you see that?” Audrey said more in amazement than fear.

  Alan nodded. “They didn’t see us,” he said awestruck.

  “I think that’s what they call a residual haunt,” Audrey explained. “Let’s continue up the stairs and see what awaits us up there.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Come on, where’s your spirit of adventure, Alan?” Audrey said with a bit too much bravado. “Besides, I’d rather be off these stairs if something more tangible decides to use them.”

  Alan nodded and moved hastily up the last few steps. They entered the attic space which was illuminated by dormer windows that were surprisingly free of grime. The floor held several cots with thin mattresses rolled up at the top. The springs vibrated as they moved past them. What was of main interest to them was the open door at the far end of the room. From their vantage point they could see a gleam of porcelain.

  “I think that may be one of the missing bathrooms,” Alan pointed out.

  “It makes sense, the help would have their own,” Audrey commented. She wrinkled her face in puzzlement and pointed out, “This and the open maid’s quarters only take up a small section of this second floor attic. I wonder how we would access the remaining space?” She began to pull open doors, finding closets for linens, closets for clothing, but no entrance to the attic could be found.

>   “Perhaps there is another set of stairs on the opposite end of the building. Or the owner at the time of this construction didn’t need to store anything up here,” Alan suggested.

  “Doubtful, my experiences with these old houses is that the occupants never threw anything out. Depression training, I suppose. Anyway, we will look into this puzzle when I have a builder handy. Let’s head down to the basement while we still have daylight. Cellars at the best of times creep me out.”

  Alan led the way down the stairs. They didn’t encounter any maids on their way. They didn’t stop at the open library door this time but passed by it quickly. Audrey had a schedule, and no ghost, intruder or prankster was going to get in the way of her completing her task.

  “Alan, I noticed that there wasn’t a garage, or outbuilding to be used as one, listed on the inventory.”

  “That’s because there isn’t a garage…”

  “Surely wintertime here demands a garage for the vehicles,” she argued.

  “The late Ms. Gruber didn’t drive. She used car services. She paid mileage on her maid’s vehicle if an errand had to be run. She had the existing carriage house torn down after a fire damaged part of it. She didn’t want to pay the premiums or the taxes on the unattached garage, especially when she didn’t drive. So she had it demolished along with the hog barn.”

  “Excuse me, did you say hog barn?”

  “Yes, she raised hogs until the codes changed here in ninety-seven. You can still see the foundations from the upper floors.”

  Audrey stopped her progress down the stairs and scrutinized the lawyer. “You keep all that in your head?”

  “All what?”

  “I’m pretty good at details, but I can’t seem to recall all these nuances you have on the late Ms. Gruber and her activities, let alone knowing when they changed the code on raising hogs in Cook County.”

  Alan laughed, raising his hands up to indicate he didn’t want her to take offense as he moved from simple laughter to a full belly laugh. He had tears in his eyes by the time he got control of himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I had to laugh at myself. You see, Audrey, I have one of those memories – which came in handy in law school – that whatever I read, I retain. Simple as that. Plus this case is most interesting. Especially the parts I am not at liberty to tell you.”

  Audrey smiled. “I have to admit I wish I had some Sodium Pentothal handy to pick your brain. Instead, let’s beat feet to the cellar before my urges get the best of my instincts.”

  “Alright, the subject was no garage…” he led.

  “What about lawn mowers?”

  “Lawn service.”

  “The garden! I’m sure there is a need for a place for, hell, I don’t know.”

  “Ah, all will be revealed. Let’s use the kitchen stairs. The cellar has three entrances: the kitchen stairs, where I will be taking you; a service entrance, which is more like a garage door cut into the hillside on the southwest side; and a unique entrance that takes you right up and into the garden. The cellar runs the width of the mansion and has a sub cellar under half of it.”

  Audrey stopped and flipped through her paperwork. “Subbasement? It’s not mentioned in the inventory.”

  “I think it must have been an oversight. I found it the other day when I was taking inventory of poisons the EPA has to come in and clear out.”

  “Poison?”

  “Arsenic was a common thing to dust on the leaves of roses to kill aphids. One had to be quite a chemist to deal with the bugs and fungus that thrive in a garden this old,” he pointed out.

  “Oh. Should we wear some kind of protection?” she asked nervously.

  “No, it’s all contained, just don’t put anything in your mouth,” he advised with a twinkle in his eye.

  She laughed and felt the temporary stress melt away. “Lead on.”

  He opened the door and turned on the light. The stairway illuminated for a moment before the overhead light burst, raining down shards of glass on them.

  Alan whirled around to protect Audrey from whatever came next. His arms enveloped her. When nothing else happened, he released her but not before checking her over in the dim light from the open kitchen door.

  “Stay still. You have a piece of glass precariously close to your face,” he said. Alan reached over and plucked the shard out of a curl. “Your hair saved you a nasty cut. Let’s retreat to the light of the kitchen and check for more glass. I don’t know what happened. I just put in that light three days ago.”

  “Sometimes water drips into the fixture,” Audrey offered. “When you add electricity, pop goes the light bulb.”

  They turned on the overhead lights and spent time carefully picking glass off of each other’s clothing and hair. Alan had a small cut on the crown of his head. Audrey dabbed carefully at it, trying to determine whether there was any glass imbedded in the cut.

  “I think it’s okay, but have it looked at just the same,” she advised.

  “I’m thinking it’s time to call it a day. Let’s schedule another time to view the basement and the grounds,” Alan paused to think before he continued, “I can clear Thursday afternoon. You?”

  “I really want to get this finished today, but I think you should have that cut looked at. Let me see, Thursday I have a luncheon meeting with M.A.D.D. but I can be here at two-thirty,” she offered.

  “Thursday it is. I think the basement doesn’t want to be looked at today.”

  As Alan finished his sentence there was a screech of metal. They both watched open-mouthed as the door to the basement slammed shut. Seconds after that, they heard a key turn in the lock.

  “Now that’s a bit troubling,” Alan said, not caring that his voice shook.

  Audrey moved closer to him and was speechless.

  “There’s no key to that door as far as I know,” he babbled.

  “There is now,” Audrey pointed out. “Perhaps an intruder,” she suggested lamely.

  “Could be. Doesn’t explain the other things though.”

  “No. You’re right. Let’s turn out the lights and move into the foyer. Whatever it is, it doesn’t like us near the basement.”

  “Ever been in a haunted establishment before?” Alan asked as he got control of his voice again.

  “Yes, I have. But nothing like this. I’m concerned that the building is unsuitable for an abuse shelter. The victims of assault need quiet and calm, not screeching banshees and maids bustling up and down the stairs all day.”

  “What if we were to rid the mansion of its unearthly inhabitants?”

  “It would be ideal.”

  “I’ll present the information to my client. Perhaps I will have an answer by Thursday.”

  “That would be most appreciated. I could recommend a few groups that take care of this kind of thing,” Audrey offered.

  “Fine, get me a list. I don’t want publicity-seeking charlatans. We want scientific professionals with a good record,” he said.

  “I’m in total agreement. I’ll work on the list of ghost hunters, you work on getting permission. This is going to cost if we don’t want this ending up on television. Normally the cost of the investigation is subsidized by the sponsors,” she pointed out.

  “You seem to know a bit about this,” Alan observed.

  He helped her on with her coat, and Audrey put on her boots. “Yes, a colleague of mine, a renovation man, Richard Kowalski, just had a major problem taken care of. He went the route of having the network pick up the costs. His eldest daughter was mortified until her Facebook page was suddenly filled up with friend requests.”

  “This Kowalski, would you mind if I talked to him personally?”

  “Nope, I’ll fax over his information when I get back to my office.”

  Alan walked over to the thermostat and lowered the temperature. He keyed in the alarm and opened the door and escorted Audrey out.

  The late afternoon sun shone on the lawns, causing the snow to twinkle.

  “Looks
like diamonds,” Audrey said wistfully.

  “With our luck today, those diamonds would be blood diamonds,” Alan said sadly.

  “Ah, Alan, don’t let a few mangy spirits keep you from appreciating all the good things around you,” Audrey advised and walked over to unlock her car.

  Alan watched her a moment, thinking just that. He smiled and waved as she backed out her vehicle and headed down the long driveway to the street. He opened his car and started it. He stepped out to clear some snow off his windshield while the car warmed up. He turned around and looked up at the house. He admired the architecture. He took in the great condition the place was in and shook his head sadly. This was a house that needed a purpose. Sitting here and waiting for a con to be released from prison was a crime.

  He got in the car and backed out. He took one last look at the house and saw a movement in one of the upper windows. He banged his fist on the dashboard.

  “Damn you to hell, you’ll not stop good things from entering your house. Who do you think is boss here?”

  As if he was heard, someone moved away from the window and calmly shut the drapes.

  Chapter Three

  He jammed his fist into his other hand and held on tight while the guards moved through his room. They carefully took each book down from his shelf and flipped through the pages. They then examined his bedding, his walls and even his toilet. He ignored the screaming orders that filled his mind. Instead he pushed the creature into the cell he had made with the fibers of willpower that still existed in his battered brain.

  “I’m sorry, it’s my job,” the young guard said, sensing the inmate’s outrage. “I appreciate your being a gentleman. For the life of me, I don’t know why you turned down parole. It weren’t your fault I heard.”

  “Officer, don’t believe everything you hear,” he advised the young man.

  “I hear they’re going to move you to a posh prison. Some kind of deal with the state.”

  “That would be correct information.”

  “It seems a shame. You being stuck in places like this when all that riffraff is milling around free.”