Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 04 - Ghosted (13 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

                            ––H. P. Lovecraft

Whatever was happening inside Essie’s body—or probably more accurately, inside her brain—Essie realized that she couldn’t deal with it––or anything, unless she had a good breakfast.  So, as soon as DeeDee had left to help her next resident get dressed, Essie grabbed her walker and forced herself to head to the dining hall.  The Halloween decorations were now at full throttle with the holiday just a few days off.  As Essie entered the lobby, some spooky but light-hearted music was playing, punctuated by ghostly groans from time to time. 

The residents seated in the lobby had obviously become accustomed to the theme music and appeared to be ignoring it.  Some were reading the morning paper; some
were sitting and enjoying the fire in the fireplace, and a group of early risers were already off to a lively game of poker at one of the game tables.  Essie ignored them and rolled quickly across the main lobby and to the dining hall.  She could see through the glass partition that most of the residents had completed their breakfast.  Some were still seated sipping coffee and a few were still working on a tough bit of bacon or ham.

Essie drove up to the main dining hall door and rolled inside.  The host who usually greeted each resident was no
where to be seen—a sure sign that breakfast was almost over.  She guided her walker back into the dining hall and could see that her group of friends was still seated at their regular table—drinking coffee.  Essie arrived breathlessly, parked her walker, and slipped quietly into her chair.

“Essie,” said Opal, “I thought you weren’t coming to breakfast.  You’re late.”

“I know,” responded Essie, fluffing out her napkin on her lap and opening her menu in front of her.  She peeked around, looking for a waiter. 

“Where have you been, Essie?” asked Marjorie over the top of her coffee cup. 

Santos popped up beside Essie.

“Miss Essie,” he said, “I save you some Canadian bacon.  I know you like.  You want scrambled eggs too?”

Essie sighed.  It was so nice to have someone who wasn’t so nosy about her comings and goings and who just seemed to like to help her.  Santos was a dear and she resolved to give him an extra-large tip today.  And seeing as how she typically never gave tips—no one at Happy Haven did—it would come as a surprise she was sure.  Santos jotted on his pad and disappeared into the kitchen.

“So, Essie?” asked Marjorie.  “What have you been up to now?”

“Why do you assume I’m up to something, Marjorie?” asked Essie with a certain annoyance.  “What if I’d fallen in the bath tub?”

“Did you?” asked Opal in alarm.

“No,” replied Essie, “but Marjorie always assumes I’m doing something I shouldn’t.”

“You usually are,” shot back Marjorie, her auburn curls bouncing as she tossed her head.

“If you must know,” began Essie, “I had a terrible night!”

“Not still worried about the haunted house, are you, Essie?” asked Opal.

“I don’t know,” said Essie, pondering the possibility of a connection between her fear of going to the haunted house and the strange dreams and hallucinations she’d been having.  “Could that make me have weird dreams?”

“What kind of dreams?” asked Marjorie.

“Some nice ones about John,” said Essie, “but some really strange.  And some not at night either.”

“What do you mean?” asked Opal, leaning in.  “Not at night?  You mean daydreams?”

“I don’t know, Opal,” said Essie, whispering.  “I told you I’ve been seeing some strange things lately.  Maybe it is because I’m thinking about this field trip.  Do you think that could be it?”

“What else?” asked Marjorie.

Essie looked around the dining hall.  No one else seemed to be paying any attention to her.  “Well, it could be Alzheimer’s!”

“Not you, Essie!” declared Opal.  “You are as sane as a Saint Bernard!”

“What?” cried Essie.  “A dog?  You think I’m a dog, Opal?”

“It’s just a saying,” replied Opal, clutching her namesake necklace defensively as if she expected Essie to bean her over the head.  “I just meant I think you’re smart.”

“Even smart people can lose their marbles,” said Essie mysteriously.

Santos appeared and placed a delightfully
aromatic plate of eggs, Canadian bacon, and some grits before Essie.  He filled her coffee cup and then departed.

“That young man is the best waiter at Happy Haven!” she declared
, now totally devouring her breakfast.

“He’s the only waiter at Happy Haven,” noted Marjorie, “at least for us.  We hardly ever get any of the other ones.”

“He’s sweet on Essie,” added Opal, “that’s what I think!”

“Oh, pitiful potbellies!” said Essie, brushing off the compliment.  “That’s ridiculous, but whatever, I am going to leave him a nice tip.”

“We’re not supposed to tip,” said Opal, her thin eyebrows arching sharply upward.

“I’ll do what I want,” said Essie,
as a piece of bacon flopped out onto her chin.  She grabbed her napkin and wiped it off and then immediately returned to her meal.

“Essie,” said Marjorie, “so, what is it you’ve been seeing?  You said you were seeing things?  Not like in a dream?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Marjorie,” replied Essie, sighing.  “I’ve probably just imagined it all.  First, I lost all that entire day.”

“We remember that,”
said Opal.

“And then the giant squirrel
…” added Essie, looking off as if trying to remember something.

“What giant squirrel?” asked Marjorie.

“The one who appeared in my mirror…and my bathtub!” said Essie firmly, turning to Marjorie.

“Your bathtub?” asked Marjorie.  “You should call maintenance.  If you have rodents in your apartment.”

“I don’t have rodents, Marjorie,” said Essie, sneering.  “I have hallucinations.  I see things, then I blink and they’re gone.  I told you that!”

“Oh,
Essie!” declared Opal.  “Maybe you should tell your aide or your doctor.”

“My aide knows,” reported Essie.  “She called Nancy down and she examined me.  They say they’re going to keep an eye on me.”

“That’s good!” said Opal.

Essie had finished her breakfast
at supersonic speed.  Now, with her stomach full she was feeling excellent and all this talk of the weird things that had been happening seemed almost as if they had happened to another person.  She glanced at her three friends and around at the few other residents in the dining hall.  Everyone looked perfectly normal.  Whatever had happened to her was probably just a fluke.  It probably wouldn’t happen again.

“What about the field trip, Essie?” asked Marjorie.  “If you’re feeling badly, will you still be able to go with us today?”

“Oh, it’s today?” asked Essie.  “I had forgotten.”

“Don’t worry,” said Opal.  “We won’t let you forget.  We’ll come down to your apartment and get you when it’s time to go.  How about that?”

“You don’t need to do that, Opal.  I won’t forget,” said Essie with a smile.  Her entire outlook had changed and she was certain she’d be able to attend the haunted house field trip.  It was amazing what a little food could do for a person.

“I have things to do before then,” said Opal, rising.  “But I’ll be down to get you before
ten, Essie, if you want.  Don’t worry.”  She patted Essie’s shoulder.  “Come on, Fay.”  The two women set down their empty cups and headed out of the dining hall.

“I’ll come down too, Essie,” said Marjorie, also rising.  “Don’t worry.  We won’t let you forget.  I know you’ll enjoy the field trip.”  She bent low, leaning against her walker so she could whisper into Essie’s ear.  “Remember
how much fun we had at the last one.”  Giving Essie a sweet smile, Marjorie rolled her walker around and followed Opal and Fay down the center of the hall and out into the lobby.

Hmm
, Essie mused. 
They’re not going to upset me.  I’m feeling so much better now that I’ve eaten that I’m actually excited about the haunted house.  I’ll just be sure to take a potty break right before and I should be fine.
 

She smiled and finished her coffee.
She could get herself to the bus. Then looking around, she could see that she was the last resident still at breakfast.  Some of the kitchen workers were starting to clean up and change table cloths.  She pulled her walker over and lifted the seat which revealed a small basket underneath.  From there, she removed her purse and extracted her coin purse from inside.  Pulling out a few bills, she placed them under her plate for the tip she had promised herself she owed Santos.  Then, setting down her napkin, she grabbed her walker and headed out.

When she reached the lobby, she rolled over to the mailbox wall so she could check to see if she had any mail.  Crouching low, she peeked into the tiny window in her little box.  As usual, there was nothing inside.  As she rose up, she saw a man whiz by.  As she turned around to see where he was going, she realized that it was Edward Troy, apparently heading out the back entrance again, as he had done several days before.

Essie, now feeling feisty from her meal, turned her walker abruptly and headed after him at a discreet distance.  Troy had disappeared into a double door set with small, round windows in each that led to the kitchen and back entrance.  Essie pushed between the doors with the front of her walker and the doors gave way.  As she squeezed into the back hallway, she checked to see if Troy was still in sight.  She could see his back disappearing at the far end of the hall—the end that led to the back entrance.  It was just as she’d observed the other day.  She wondered if Edward Troy was going to meet the same person in the same car as before.  Would he be collecting a package as he did before?  She was intrigued and she followed the man at a distance so that he would not become suspicious.

When she reached the back hallway door, she pushed it open with one hand and looked around.  She couldn’t see Troy anywhere.  Ahead was the back entrance.  She could see through the glass entrance
that he was not standing outside waiting for a car as he had the other day.  Maybe he was outside, but was leaning against the building out of sight.  Maybe the car with the driver had come along and Troy had gotten in the passenger side and they had driven off.  Anything was possible.  As Essie couldn’t see him at all, she decided to move closer to the back entrance and peek around. 

She cautiously rolled her walker down the back hallway towards the entrance.  She could see the driveway in the distance, but no Edward Troy.  She got closer and closer.  Eventually, she arrived at the door
that had a push-down fire handle.  It was not designed for use by a ninety-year-old lady in a walker.  Essie turned her walker sideways and edged closer to the door.  She couldn’t see anyone at all outdoors.  She leaned against her walker, staring out at the outside view, contemplating what she should do.  She should probably just return to her apartment and give up.  It would be very difficult for her to open the door and even if she did, and even if she managed to get her walker outside, it would be even more difficult to return inside through the fire door.  She’d probably have to walk all the way around to the front door.

As she was standing there, staring outside, searching for Troy, trying to decide exactly what to do, all of a sudden a large hand was clenched tightly over my mouth.  She felt her b
ack clutched close to a body, another arm grasping her tiny torso in a death grip.  She tried to scream but no sound would emerge.  She squirmed and gyrated in an attempt to get away or at least see who had her in this intense grip. 

“Quiet!” whispered a harsh voice in her ear.  She could feel
a man’s breath on her face.  “Don’t move a muscle!”

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

“Where there is no imagination, there is no horror.”

––Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Essie was frozen.  What had she gotten herself into? 

“Why are you following me, lady?” asked the man, his cheek slammed in beside Essie’s own.  His voice was soft but threatening.  One large arm encircled her body, forcing her to let go of her walker which now stood useless in front of her.  The
hand of the other arm was clenched tight over Essie’s mouth.  Essie mumbled in an attempt to respond.  The man slid his fingers down from her mouth a bit.

“I
…I’m not following anyone,” she said, panting.  “I’m just…uh, taking my morning walk.”

“No
, you aren’t,” replied the unseen man in a hoarse whisper, maintaining his grip on Essie’s body.  “I saw you the other day, peeking out the back entrance.  You were following me.”

“
That’s not true,” continued Essie with bravado.  “I always walk out back after breakfast.” 

Essie could feel the man’s hold on her loosen ever so slightly.  Maybe she could convince him of her innocence.

“Why would you walk around out here?” he asked cautiously. “Behind the kitchen?”

“Why would you?” she snapped back.

His arms quickly reaffirmed their tight hold.

“You’re in no position to question me, lady,” he
said sharply. 

“All right,” she said.  “I was just curious.  That’s all.  I saw
someone head back here the other day, and I know we’re not supposed to be back here.  We’re particularly not supposed to leave the building by the back entrance!  When I saw that same person head out this way again this morning, I decided to follow.”

“You’re nosy!” he said.

“Curious!” said Essie. 

“No, you’re a nosy old biddy,” said the man, almost blasting the words into her ear. 

Essie could smell the man’s sweat and the odor from what he’d had for breakfast.  She could feel the roughness of his unshaven cheek. 

“Maybe,” she replied courageously, “but sometimes it pays to be a nosy old biddy.  Sometimes you learn things
—important things.”

“Like what?” questioned the man, still holding her tight.

“Like people meeting other people who don’t want to be seen meeting in the front lobby.  Like people exchanging packages that maybe they don’t want delivered to the front desk—where packages should be delivered!”

“Listen, lady,” he snarled, “you’d be well advised to mind your own business!
”

“I could report you to Mr. Federico,” said Essie bravely.

“And just what would you say?” he snarled.  “That you were following me out the back entrance where you weren’t supposed to be?”

“I
…I was doing my civic duty!” she declared.

H
e squeezed her tightly and Essie felt the air whoosh out of her diaphragm just as she heard the sound of the back kitchen door bursting open.  It sounded like two workers chatting in an animated fashion and heading towards the back entrance.  The man holding Essie suddenly released her and she fell in a heap on the ground before she could grab her walker.

“Murderous marbles!” she mumbled on her hands and knees.  The two kitchen workers rushed towards her and quickly lift
ed her upright.

“You okay, Miss Essie?” asked one young man, brushing off her pants which were covered in dust.

“Miss Essie!” cried the other worker, a short, dark-haired woman. “What are you doing back here?”

“I’m fine!” mumbled Essie, helping the two young people to clean the floor grime off of her front.  “Did you see that man who was
…who was here?”  She decided she’d better not mention that the man had grabbed and threatened her or the workers might insist on reporting this little incident to the administration.

“What man, Miss Essie?” asked the young man.  “I saw you on the ground
, that’s all!”

“Did someone push you?” asked the woman, startled. 

“Oh, no!” replied Essie, “I must have tripped.”

“There’s trash all over back here, José!” whispered the woman to the man.  “It’s a mess!  No wonder she tripped!”  The two workers glanced at each other with worried looks.

“Did you need something from the kitchen?” asked the man.

“Oh, no!” replied Essie.  “I just thought I’d go for a walk around the back of the building.”

“But, Miss Essie,” said the woman, “that’s dangerous.  You know the front desk wants you to sign out when you leave the building so they can find you if you get lost.”

“Yes,” agreed José, “residents
, they wander off and get lost.  Besides, it’s just not safe back here. There’s all sorts of things.  We have deliveries come through here.  And you can see, Miss Essie, this hallway isn’t kept all that clean.”

“Oh, a little dirt doesn’t bother me,” said Essie brightly.  She had
surmised that the two kitchen workers hadn’t seen the man who had grabbed her and that was probably for the best. 

She herself had no doubt who the man was; it was certainly Edward Troy
—on another of his early morning forays.  For all she knew, he had slipped out the entrance and had already met with his accomplice in the car and had secured another secret package.  Essie made her apologies to the two workers and headed back into the main part of Happy Haven.  As she rolled into the lobby, she glanced around to see if Edward Troy was anywhere in sight.  He wasn’t.  She didn’t dare head out the back entrance again to see if he’d made his contact. 

Feeling suddenly a bit light-headed
, she plopped herself in one of the comfy armchairs near the central fireplace.  The warmth of the glowing flames made the soreness her body felt from her recent encounter with the mysterious Edward Troy retreat a bit.  Essie rubbed her arms.  She could still sense where Troy’s fingers had gripped them.  What was going on?  Obviously, the man knew she was tracking him.  But what was he doing out the back entrance that was so important that he had to do it so secretively?  Essie put on her little imaginary thinking cap. 

She may have dozed off a bit, but probably not for long, because when she lifted her face, she saw Edward Troy striding purposefully across the lobby
from the entrance by the mail wall, a large package in hand, heading toward the elevator.  He didn’t even glance sideways in her direction, but she saw him clearly.  She reasoned that after dropping her on the floor near the back entrance, he must have raced out and met up with his contact, grabbed the package, and then hidden out until she and the two kitchen workers cleared the back hallway.  Now what? 

Essie contemplated for only a second.  Then quickly, she resolved to find out once and for all what Edward Troy was up to.  After all, the man had held her hostage a mere few minutes ago, and if anyone had a right to know what was going on, it was Essie.  She used her walker to pull herself up out of the deep cushions of the armchair.  She hated to leave the fireplace because she was enjoying its warmth so much, but she had a job to do and she was determined to do it. 

She rolled herself quickly through the lobby and after Edward Troy who was now standing in front of the elevator door.  As she headed towards him, the door opened and Troy entered it, apparently without seeing Essie.  As Essie rounded the entrance from the lobby into the family room, she could see the elevator door close.  She walked as fast as she could in an attempt to get to the elevator before the door closed completely, but she was too late.  The last thing she saw was Edward Troy, standing alone inside the elevator, holding his package close to his body, staring straight into her face—wearing a look of confusion.

Essie sighed in annoyance, turned her trusty vehicle around and headed down the side hallway back to her apartment.  She’d have to chase after the mysterious Edward Troy another day.  Apparently, whatever he was doing outside the back entrance, he was doing on a fairly regular basis.  He appeared to be collecting these packages each morning and taking them up to the second floor.

She reached her doorway and twisted the knob and pushed the door open.  She rolled her walker inside and closed the door.  Every bone in her body ached and she knew she’d probably need some antiseptic spray on her knees where she had fallen.  They were probably all cut to pieces.  But that would have to wait until later.  Right now, all she wanted to do was to sit and relax in her recliner for just a bit.  She rolled over to her favorite chair and carefully set herself down in its soft cushions.

A deep sigh seeped from her.  After a while she glanced over to her end table where her new answering machine was blinking merrily
—
like one little Christmas tree light
, she thought. 

“
Oh, fiddling fig trees!” she said out loud.  “Now what?” 

She knew the light meant that someone had called and left a message.  It was probably Claudia
or maybe Pru.  Both of them were no doubt trying to check up on her.  They both thought she spent too much time out of her apartment.  Little did they know what she’d been doing this morning—spy patrol.  Tracking residents who exhibited unusual behavior.  What could that man be doing out there?  It was obviously something he didn’t want anyone to know about.  He had grabbed her and threatened her hoping she’d give up following him, but he was mistaken if he thought he could scare her off so easily.  Essie was sure that Edward Troy was up to something nefarious and she was determined to find out what it was.

Meanwhile, the little answering machine light continued to blink.  Essie attempted to ignore it, but it seemed to be calling to her
, almost cheerfully. 

“Oh, bees and cheese!” she said to the device
. “You just won’t leave me alone!”

With that, Essie reached over to the plastic machine and pushed one of the buttons.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the correct
one and she heard the weird whirring sound. 

“Oh, muffs and puffs!” she added.  “That wasn’t right.”  She hit another button and another whirring sound emitted from the little machine.  The light was still flashing.

Hoping that the third time would be the charm, Essie pressed another button and was rewarded with the playing of her welcome message.  She heard herself greet incoming callers and ask them to leave their messages.  Then the messages began to sound. 

The first voice was Claudia, not unexpected, checking on her.  Why wasn’t she back from breakfast?  It was so late.  You’d think Claudia was the mother and she was the daughter.  Then there was a salesperson trying to sell her some banking service.  She thought Ned had said that salespeople wouldn’t leave message
s.  Then, as she relaxed back in her recliner to listen to the rest, a voice she recognized quite well spoke:

“Essie, remember our date,” said her husband John.
  She gasped and fell back into the recliner.