Haunted Tales (4 page)

Bradley was standing in front of the hall mirror when Mary
entered the house that afternoon.
 

“Do I look like I’m gaining weight?” he asked, standing
sideways and critically assessing
himself
.

Mary looked down at her protruding belly and then back at
the slim, muscular man she loved. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, dropping her
briefcase on the table next to the door. “Do you really want to go there?”

He glanced over his shoulder at his wife and shook his head.
“But you’re not fat,” he said. “You’re pregnant and, actually, pretty damn
sexy, too.” He looked back in the mirror. “But Stanley said he thought I was
getting a little thick around the middle.”

Holding back a smile, Mary walked up behind him. She slid
her arms around his waist, as far as her arms would reach with her belly in the
way, and said, “Were you, by chance, eating any of Rosie’s cooking that Stanley
would prefer not sharing?” she asked.

He looked at her reflection, and his eyes widened. “Well,
yeah, I was eating a blueberry muffin,” he replied.

“And did you take a second muffin once he made the comment?”
she asked.

“No,” he said. “No, I didn’t.”

Mary grinned at him. “He’s playing with your mind, Chief,”
she said with a wink.

A sigh of relief passed through Bradley’s lips. “I didn’t
think I was gaining weight,” he said shaking his head. “He had me glancing at
my reflection all day.”

“Well, from my perspective,” Mary said, “that would have
been a lovely way to spend the day.”

He slowly turned around and wrapped his arms around her,
lowering his face to kiss her thoroughly. “Did I happen to mention how sexy you
look when you’re pregnant?” he asked, kissing her jawline.

She moaned softly. “Did I happen to mention that Clarissa
was going with the Brennans to the library after school today and is going to
be coming home a little late?” she sighed.

Bradley lifted his head and looked down at his wife with a
smile. “I’ve been reading about exercising during pregnancy,” he murmured,
slowly running his hands across her back and pulling her even closer.

“You have?” she whispered back.

He lowered his head to her neck and nibbled against the
sensitive skin on her collarbone. Her skin began to warm, and her heart pounded
in her chest. “Um, hmmm,” he said. “It’s supposed to be very, very good for
you.”

He reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse
and continued his exploration against her soft skin. “Good for me?” she
stuttered, feeling her knees going weak and leaning against him.

He looked up, met her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.
The passion and hunger she saw in his eyes were genuine, and her body responded
in kind.
  
“Mary, we need to go
upstairs,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Now.”

A shiver coursed through her body, and she exhaled softly.
Then she shrieked when he bent over and scooped her up in his arms. “Bradley,
put me down,” she insisted. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He kissed her again, taking his time to explore the nuances
of her lips, taste her passion and demonstrate his own desire.
 
Finally, breathing heavily, he lifted his
head and looked down at her.

Panting, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bradley,”
she pleaded softly. “Carry me upstairs. I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

A satisfied smile curled his lips, and he lifted her even
further in his arms. “It will be my pleasure,” he replied, his voice laced with
desire. “And yours too, I hope.”

She laid her head against his chest, feeling the strength of
his flexed muscle and hearing the steadiness of his heartbeat. “I’m sure it
will be,” she murmured, reaching up to kiss his neck. “I’m sure it will be.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Bradley
asked later that evening as Mary prepared to meet Andrew in Polo.

“Where are you going, Mom?” Clarissa asked from the kitchen
table where she was working on a school project.

“I’m going to walk through an old school,” she replied,
slipping an oversized, black sweatshirt over her head and then over her belly.
“A man wants me to help him find his fourth grade teacher.”

She turned to Bradley and smiled. “I’m fine,” she said.
“Besides, you have to practice your ghost-telling skills on Clarissa.”

“Yeah, I need to hear more about Earl,” Clarissa added. “It
was getting scary.
Really.”

Bradley shook his head and lowered his voice. “It’s slightly
humiliating when your eight-year-old daughter is trying to boost your
confidence,” he said.

She smiled wickedly at him and ran her hand slowly up his
arm. “Well, from where I’m standing you don’t need any boost in your
confidence,” she whispered.

He smiled back down at her and nodded. “Same goes,” he
whispered back. “You still take my breath away.”

“Yeah, well, that was from carrying me upstairs,” she
teased.

He laughed and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “Be careful
and hurry home,” he said.

“I promise,” she replied and then turned to Clarissa. “I’m
driving past the store on my way down to Polo.
 
Do you need anything?”

“Did you get candy for the Halloween party at school?” she
asked.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Mary replied. “I’ll stop by and
get some.
 
Anything
special?”

“No peanuts,” Clarissa said. “That’s the rules.”

“Got it,” Mary said. “No peanuts.”

“But, if a bag of candy bars with peanuts and caramel
happens to make it into the cart,” Bradley whispered, “I’ll take care of them.”

She grinned. “Oh, I see we aren’t worried about gaining
weight anymore.”

“Not if I’m exercising regularly,” he countered with a wink.
“Besides, I’ll share.”

“Well then, you’ve got a deal,” she replied. Then she raised
her voice back to its normal level. “Okay you two, have fun telling ghost
stories. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Have fun,” Clarissa called.

“Thanks,” she replied as she picked up her purse and headed
for the door.

The autumn evening was crisp and clear. The moon was just
above the horizon and was nearly full.
 
Mary hoped it would be full for Halloween night. There was nothing like
a full moon for trick-or-treating.

She drove south on Highway 26 past the last retail area in
town and onto the rural farmland that surrounded the city.
 
A few large combines were in the fields
harvesting the last of the corn crop, their headlights glaring brightly as they
moved up and down the rows.
 
Mary kept
her eyes on the road, trying to avoid the blinding light.

She moved away from the combines and reduced her speed a
little as she entered one of the smaller towns.
 
Fields gave way to houses that lined the highway, their lawns neatly
manicured and covered with gold and red leaves from the maple and oak trees
standing lookout in the front yards.
 
Windows glowed with warm light that was soft and inviting, but the
porches were a fearsome collection of the decorations of the season: pumpkins,
inflatable ghosts, cardboard coffins and other spooky creatures that Mary knew
delighted the children in the community as they looked forward to Halloween
night.

She continued down the highway, and twenty minutes later she
was pulling up in the large parking lot in front of the school.
 
The asphalt of the parking lot was fractured,
and weeds had sprung up between the cracks, creating a squiggly patchwork of
crumbled blacktop, solid surface and dried plants. Carefully driving across the
lot, she pulled up as close to the front door as she could.
 

Stepping out of the car, she took a long look at the old
school.
 
The two-story tall portico was
supported by ornate columns that in early days, Mary thought, must have been
beautiful.
 
But now the ceiling of the
decorative entranceway was rotted and splintered. The paint on the columns was
nearly non-existent, and what remained was yellowed and chipped.
 
Mary stepped carefully over the broken boards
and rubbish that lay in front of the entranceway and walked to the front
door.
 
Peering through the broken front
window, Mary tried to see into the interior of the school, but it was too dark
inside to see anything.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” said a male voice.

Mary turned to see an older man walking towards her from the
backyard across the alley from the school, wiping his hands on a rag.
 
Mary glanced behind him and saw the
automobile he’d evidently been working on. “Hi,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt
you.
 
I’m here to meet someone.”

“You don’t look like a demolition expert,” he replied with a
shake of his head. “That’s all this old school needs, a date with a wrecking
ball.”

She sighed.
 
He was
probably right. “That’s so sad,” she said. “It looks like it once was a great
building.”

He nodded. “Yes, my wife, her brothers and even her father
attended that school,” he said. “They have good memories of it.
 
But now, it’s an eyesore and a danger.”

“Danger?”
Mary asked.

He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.
 
“One of these days a good wind is just going
to blow it over,” he said, and then he winked at her. “Just teasing you, girl.”

He paused for a moment and studied her. “Hey, don’t I know
you?” he asked.

Mary shrugged. “I’ve never really been in Polo before
tonight,” she confessed.

He snapped his fingers decisively. “That’s it, you’re that
gal from the paper,” he said. “Think you can see ghosts.”

Mary closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Would she ever
stop regretting her decision to do that article?

“Yes, that was me,” she admitted. “I’m Mary O’Reilly.”

“Dale. Dale Epperly. I had an aunt who saw ghosts,” he said,
nodding his head. “Course, she also talked with the barnyard animals, so we
never did pay her
no
mind.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Mary replied, not quite sure how
she should respond.

Dale nodded. “Sure, no problem,” he said earnestly, and then
he motioned with his head in the direction of the car. “Well, since you
ain’t
no
arsonist, guess I’ll get
back to my car.”

“Yes, please,” Mary insisted. “Don’t let me stop you.”

He nodded his head at her and then walked back across the
alley to peer underneath the hood of his car. A moment later she heard the
rattle of the door in front of her and looked up as Andrew pushed the school’s
door open.
 
“Sorry to keep you waiting,”
he said, stepping out into the night air. “Thanks so much for meeting me here.”

Mary pointedly looked around and then turned back to Andrew.
“Are you sure it’s safe to go in there?” she asked.

He nodded. “Oh sure,” he said. “This place was built like a
rock.”
 
Lifting a hand, he slapped it
against one of the pillars, and Mary had to jump out of the way when a shower
of rotted wood rained down on them.

“What kind of rock?” she asked skeptically.

He shook his head and laughed. “The inside is much better
than the outside,” he assured her. “Come on, I’ll give you the VIP tour.”

He turned and stepped back inside.
 
After a moment, Mary heard a series of
clicks, and to her delight the lights came on inside the school. “See, all the
modern conveniences you could ask for,” he said with a smile.

“That’s much better,” she said, stepping into the hallway.
She started to say something else, but her words froze in her mouth when she
heard a scream of terror and the sound of a body falling down the stairs.

“What?” Andrew asked, seeing the terrified look on Mary’s
face.

“Didn’t you hear that scream?” she asked, not waiting for a
response and hurrying down the hall towards the staircase.
  
She arrived just in time to see a woman
splayed across the top of the staircase, blood dripping from the crack in her
skull, slowly disappear in front of her.

“Did you see her?” Andrew asked. “Did you see Miss Banks?”

Nodding slowly, Mary started up the stairs to where she’d
seen the body.
 
“Was this where they
found her?” she asked.

“Yeah, this is the spot,” he said. “Our classroom was just
up the hall.”

Mary took a deep, steadying breath. The body on the stairs
had looked like she’d fallen backwards or had been pushed.
 
Perhaps Andrew was right.

“Did they say how they thought it happened?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They said she must have had her arms full and
didn’t see the first step.”

“But that doesn’t explain her facing up position,” Mary
said.

“She wasn’t facing up,” Andrew said. “The police report says
that the janitor found her facing down.”

“Facing down?” Mary repeated.

Nodding, he climbed the stairs to the top.
 
“They said that her feet were on the third
step and she was facing down, her head against the railing,” he said. “I got a
copy of the report after I bought the school, just to see if I could find
anything.”

Mary shook her head. “Someone moved the body,” she said. “I
just saw what she looked like, and she was definitely facing up.
 
Her feet might have still been up on the
third step, but the fall was more like she stepped backwards onto the
staircase.”

“So, if someone moved the body…” he began.

She nodded. “At the very least, we know that someone was
here when she died.”

“Someone who wanted to disguise how she really died,” Andrew
inserted.

“Yeah,” Mary agreed. “And most people don’t need to disguise
an accident.”

She climbed up the remaining stairs and stood next to
him.
 
“But solving a crime after forty
years with no suspects and no evidence isn’t easy,” she said.

“I don’t want to give up,” he said determinedly.

“Well, neither do I,” she agreed. “I just want you to know
that we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He sighed softly and nodded. “Okay, what’s next?”

“Well, let’s head over to the classroom and hope Miss Banks
will show up and tell us who her killer was,” Mary said. “That would make
things so much easier.”

Footsteps echoed in the empty school as they made their way
past gray, metal lockers and bulletin boards with decade old notices on
them.
 
The doors to most of the
classrooms were open, and Mary could see row after row of abandoned, wooden
desks.
 
The counters adjacent to the
large windows were mostly empty, with an occasional book or discarded lunchbox on
them.

Andrew led her to the fourth classroom. “Here we are,” he
said, entering the room first.

Mary walked through the doorway into the room and looked
around at the small desks lined up in six rows.
 
She walked slowly between the desks to the back of the class and
imagined the woman she’d seen on the stairs moving between her students,
peering over their shoulders and checking on their progress.
 
When she reached the back of the room, she
turned and inhaled sharply.
 
Standing
next to Andrew in the front of the room was Miss Banks, her face bloodied and
her body bruised.

“Are you Miss Banks?” Mary asked.

Andrew’s eyes widened and he jumped to the side, looking at
the empty space where Mary was directing her questions. “She’s here?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m Kristen Banks,” the ghost replied, her voice
softly modulated and kind.
 
“Are you here
for one of my students?”

Mary glanced at Andrew. “She’s here,” she said to Andrew and
then turned back to the ghost. “Actually, I’m a private investigator, and I’m
here because one of your former students hired me.”

Kristen smiled. “Well, I don’t know how that would be
possible,” she said. “I’ve only been teaching for a few years, and I don’t know
many ten or eleven year olds who hire private investigators.”

Mary slowly walked forward and stopped at the first desk in
the row.
 
She leaned against the desk
that had been affixed to the floor and smiled at the ghost.
 
“You made a great impression on him, you
know,” Mary said. “Your words on his spelling test made him finally believe in
himself.”

“Words on a spelling test?” Kristen said, shaking her head.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Andrew Tyler,” Mary said. “Do you remember grading his
spelling test?”

“Well, I do remember Andrew Tyler,” she said. “But I just
graded his test last night, so unless I’m Rip Van Winkle, I don’t think you
were hired by Andrew.”

“Do you remember going home last night?” Mary asked.

Kristen stared at Mary. “Well, of course…” she began,
pausing almost immediately.
 
She looked
up at Mary, her eyes wide and her face filled with concern. “I can’t seem to
remember…”

“Tell me what you do remember about last night,” Mary urged.

“I was grading papers,” she said slowly. “I’d just finished
Andrew’s paper, and then I took a moment to read Danny’s letter.”
 
She looked up with an
embarrassed
smile. “Danny’s my fiancé.”

“Congratulations,” Mary said. “Then what happened?”

Kristen paused for a moment while she searched her memory.
“Then I heard a sound in the hall,” she said slowly. “I got up and looked, but
no one was there.”
 
She looked up at Mary
again and shrugged. “It kind of spooked me, so I decided to pack up and do the
rest of the grading at home.
 
I’m not
very brave when it comes to those kinds of things.”

“I guess you would have packed up your briefcase and your
purse,” Mary said, “and locked your classroom door?”

Kristen nodded. “Yes, I did,” she said easily, but then her
face fell and she looked down at the floor, studying it for a few minutes.
 
When she looked up, her eyes were wide with
horror. “He was there,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Who?”
Mary asked. “Who was there?”

“I don’t know,” she stammered. “He grabbed me from behind.”
She shuddered. “He touched me.” Closing her eyes tightly, she wrapped her arms
around herself. “He was…he was disgusting.”

“What did you do?” Mary asked.

“He grabbed me,” she said slowly, translucent tears sliding
down her cheeks. “And he forced me to the stairs.
 
He said he was going to take me.”
 
She looked up at Mary’s eyes. “I had to get
away.”

“Yes. Yes, you did,” Mary agreed.

“I kicked him,” Kristen said, her voice breaking into sobs.
“I kicked him, and he pushed me.
 
He
pushed me.”

Wracked with sobs, tears flowing freely, she could barely
speak. She took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at Mary, heart-breaking
anguish in her eyes. “I fell,” she whispered. “I fell, and I died.”