Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1) Read online

  She took Mark’s hand and even Angela didn’t pull back when she reached for hers. The floorboards creaked under their feet as they filed down the hall and then up the stairs. She looked up, past the bathroom door and along the dim hallway. Angela had seen a ghost girl, and Mark—that old man. But other than the bottle, she’d seen nothing. And that was A-OK with her.

  Liam, if you’re up there in heaven, send a little help. It’s hell down here. Her forehead tightened. Maybe he was around. Why else would the whiskey be Jack Daniels Honey? Had that been a sign he was watching over them? It was a small comfort to think so.

  She stepped forward and dropped their hands, signaling for them to stay put. The door opened at the touch of her fingers and she flipped the light on. The room was cool on her skin but other than that there was nothing out of order. She turned slowly and looked in the mirror. Still nothing but her own reflection. She turned and stepped out. “It’s okay, Mark. We’ll be right outside the door.”

  She watched her son walk in and their eyes met before he shut the door. Angela touched her arm and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Sorry.” Angela took a deep breath, “Do you think I should get dressed? I mean, we’re probably going to leave after dinner.”

  “Sure. It’s chilly in this house so even if we stay, it can’t hurt, right?” She glanced down the long hallway and then at her daughter. “I’ll be right here. Go on.”

  Angela crept slowly down the hall and pushed at her door, peeking inside. She looked over at her mother and entered the room, making damn sure to leave the door open. Lydia took her eyes away from her daughter long enough to glance into her own bedroom. Should she get anything? Maybe a sweater?

  THUD! It came from Angela’s room!

  “Angela!” She gasped and raced down the hall. Inside the room, her daughter was frozen to the spot, staring at the bed. She was in her jeans but the sweatshirt only half on.

  Angela turned and her voice was like she was nine again, hardly more than a squeak, “The bed, Mommy. It went all up in the air and then...then it fell dowwwnnn!” She raced over and clutched Lydia’s arm.

  Oh my God! The ghosts were attacking the beds; that explained the earlier thuds. Holding on to her daughter, they slowly backed out of the room. They both jumped when the door slammed shut right in front of them. She yanked her daughter down the hall just as Mark emerged from the bathroom.

  His eyes were wide. “What was that?”

  Instead of answering, she grabbed his hand and they all stumbled down the stairs. Jake was at the bottom holding some old picture in his hand. “What happened? What was that noise?”

  She raced by him, holding her kids’ hands. “The bed! It just rose in the air and then slammed down. Angela’s room.” They went into the kitchen and she stopped, gasping for air. That was it. They were definitely leaving. If she had to bang the FBI agent over the head and steal his keys...they were out of there.

  TWENTY ONE

  Jake

  JAKE STOOD HOLDING THE OLD PICTURE as Lydia and the kids flew past him to the kitchen. He decided he didn’t need to go upstairs to check on the noise. Lydia had been pretty emphatic that it was the bed, and he was ready to give her some credence. It was the same reverberating bang that had happened earlier. With what he’d found in the cellar he wasn’t even sure now that Lydia was wrong. Or Angela.

  He held the picture higher and once more checked the back of it. In carefully scripted handwriting was written:

  “Hawkins family, November 24, 1931. From left to right, Charles, his wife, Daisy, daughter, Nancy, and son, Jeremiah.”

  The fact that today was November 24th, wasn’t lost on him. Finding it right out in the open after being down there a few times was beyond weird. It had been right next to his smashed cell phone, like he was meant to see it.

  Like it was planted there.

  Oh God. Too many creepy things had happened for him to dismiss all of this out of hand, even though every atom in his body ached for him to deny it. Hell, he was educated with a law degree! Maybe it wasn’t ivy league but it was still a damn law degree! He’d even passed the damn bar!

  He stood there silently as a scene from the week before played out in his mind. He’d had to be here when the van with all the furniture and appliances showed up. The delivery guy, an older man in his sixties had acted kind of suspicious, looking over his shoulder continually. After the third trip into the house, he braced the guy, grabbing him and shoving him against the wall. You couldn’t be too careful when it came to the Witness Protection Program.

  “What’s with you? You casing the joint or something? You’re always looking around, checking things out like you’re sizing up the place!”

  The guy stared at him wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open. This clown wasn’t shifty—this guy was scared. And his answer confirmed it. “You don’t know about this place?” The guy’s head swiveled from side to side watching the walls and ceiling. “The fucking place is haunted, man!” Then he fixed his eyes back on Jake, “But you’re not from around here, are you?”

  “So what if I’m not? What’s your point, bubba?”

  The guy took a deep breath and continued, it all coming out in a rush. By the time the asshole was finished, Jake wished that he hadn’t grilled him. “A guy that lived here killed his whole family and then he killed himself!

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Oh come on!”

  The deliveryman grabbed his arm. “No! It’s the truth! Ask anyone who’s from around here!” He glanced around the room again. “That’s how come I know you ain’t from the North Country.” He looked back at Jake with a touch of scorn in his eyes. “Anyway, it happened back in the ‘30s, during Prohibition, and the guy, his name was Hawkins, he was a preacher at the church down the road. But they found all kinds of liquor in the barn out back!” The guy shuddered and looked up the staircase. “My granddaddy told me they found the kids still in their beds. He’d taken an ax to them, and they was all chopped up like firewood!” He shuddered again and pointed a finger at the stairs. “Right up there! They found the wife in the kitchen. The old guy, Hawkins, blew his head clean off with a shotgun.”

  Jake stared at the guy. “Yeah. Riiight.”

  “It’s the damn truth, mister.” The delivery guy stood up straight, taking on an air of indignation. “My granddaddy was on the police force. It was an awful mess it was.”

  Jake had only half listened at the time. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard local yarns like that. But now, he held the evidence in his hand. There had been a family named Hawkins who’d lived there. And apparently some of them had never left.

  “Jake!” Lydia stood in front of him.

  He jumped a bit. He’d been so lost in his memory that he hadn’t heard her come out of the kitchen. “What?” She looked mad as hell and scared. More scared than that delivery guy, for sure.

  “Where’s your cell phone? Did you check the weather and the roads?” She looked down at his hand holding the picture. “What’s that?

  God. Okay, she was scared, but she...hell, all of them were getting on his nerves. He took a breath to keep from lashing out at her. “The cell phone is broken.” He lifted the picture. “I found this in the cellar.”

  By this time Angela and Mark had crept forward, peeking from behind their mother. Angela reached forward and grabbed the picture, “That’s her! That’s the girl I saw in the mirror!”

  Mark had jerked over to her side, standing on his tiptoes and pointing at the old man in the photo. “That’s the guy! He’s younger, but I’d recognize that mean old face anywhere!”

  Three sets of eyes stared at him. There was no way he was going to repeat the story the delivery guy had told him. They were scared enough. “I found this in the cellar. I think they used to live here.”

  Angela huffed, “They still do!” She looked into his eyes, challenging him, “Now do you believe us? We’ve got to get out of here!”

  He stood weighing the risk of leaving. The T
oyota was all-wheel drive. If he took it easy they might be able to make it to the main highway. The plows might even have been through. He looked at each of them in turn. They were scared as hell. Truth be told he wasn’t all that crazy about staying either, not after finding the picture. They were counting on him to keep them safe, and for them the storm outside was the lesser of two evils.

  He propped the picture against the stair railing and then took Angela’s phone from his pocket. He read the words “No Signal.” Damn. So much for checking the road conditions. He handed it over to her. “The storm has knocked everything out.” That wasn’t a good sign. He reached for his jacket. “Give me a few minutes to sweep the snow from the car and get it warmed up.”

  Lydia let out a sigh of relief. “Do you need help with that?”

  “No. Get whatever you need for tonight.” He stepped out into the snow, cursing the fact that his shoes did a piss-poor job of keeping his feet warm. They’d barely thawed from the trip to the barn to get wood and here he was outside, wading through a foot of the white shit again. Damn storm came out of nowhere. When he packed for this assignment the forecast was for clear skies till next week!

  As he neared the vehicle the snow was past his knees, piled high by the whirling wind. He reached for his gloves in his pockets and then flipped the collar of his coat higher. Still the snow managed to get inside, freezing his neck as it melted. He unlocked the car and then got inside, starting the engine.

  He got out and went around to the back, kicking the snow from around the exhaust before lifting the trunk to get the snow brush and scraper. He glanced down the laneway, barely able to see the path in the blinding flurries. Navigating the long driveway was going to be tricky. He flung the snow from the roof and windshield and looked up when a shadow crossed the outside light over the door.

  Lydia and the two kids trudged toward him, kicking up sprays of snow until they got into the car. The defroster had the windshield clear and had started to warm the car by the time he got in. All of them stayed silent as he threw the car into reverse. It might take a few tries back and forth but he had to get turned around to tackle the driveway head on.

  He twisted in the driver’s seat, trying to see how much room he had before he hit a tree. He pressed the gas pedal and the vehicle lumbered slowly through the drift of snow behind them. But at least it was moving. He eased to a stop. So far, so good.

  Holding down the brake pedal, he started to spin the wheel in the opposite direction. What the hell? He felt the rear of the car lurch to the left and begin fishtailing out behind them. He shoved down harder onto the brake pedal, but with a relentless momentum the back of the car continued its path! He watched through the back window as the world slid by to the edge of the driveway.

  Shit! They’re going to go down! He put the car in drive and punched the accelerator, but it was no use. The back of the car slid down the embankment, hitting a maple tree with a crunching thud.

  What the hell? It was like the rear had been broadsided and shoved off the road! Even if there’d been ice and the car hit it, they wouldn’t have ended up in the ditch. Not from a standing stop.

  From the front passenger seat, Lydia stared open-mouthed. Finally she said, “What happened? You drove into a tree.” She glanced back at her children and turned to him again. “Can we drive out of it?”

  He sat watching the back of the car and the snow-covered tree. No damn way that should have happened! He’d driven in snow lots of times, but never in all his experience had something remotely like this ever occurred. From a complete stop, the car had slid to the side and dropped!

  He turned and looked at the house, his gaze rising to see the two windows over the front veranda like dark eyes peering down at him. The house. He couldn’t explain why, but knew in his heart that the house had shoved the car off the driveway. His jaw tightened and he pressed the accelerator silently urging it forward. But nothing happened except snow flying up and hitting the wheel wells. The car was well and truly stuck. And it had nothing to do with his driving. He didn’t want to think of what had done this to them. For sure, he wasn’t about to let that cat out of the bag and frighten Lydia and the kids anymore than they already were.

  He turned to her, and his hand twisted the key, shutting down the engine. “That’s it. The car won’t budge. It’ll take a tow truck to get it out of the ditch.”

  Her face tightened into a knot. “I thought you knew how to drive in the snow. How the hell did you manage this?” She huffed a sharp sigh. “We can’t even call for help.”

  Angela leaned forward, “We can just stay here in the car. We don’t have to go back in there.”

  His jaw tightened and his words were low and even, “We can’t do that. The snow isn’t stopping and we’ll freeze out here. And before you tell me to keep the vehicle running, that’s not a safe option, not with the risk of snow blocking the exhaust.”

  Angela wasn’t giving up. “What about walking? We can get out to the main road and go to the next house down. If nothing else we can probably call for help from there.”

  He spun around so fast, she jerked back. “Are you nuts? Visibility is zero in case you haven’t noticed! You could go twenty feet and get completely lost! You’d freeze to death!” He turned around and took a deep breath. “There’s nothing else but to stick it out for the night.” He opened his door and got out. If he stayed in the vehicle one more minute, he was going to blow a gasket.

  Like it or not they were stuck there.

  TWENTY TWO

  Mark

  WHEN MARK OPENED HIS DOOR, he had to really push. When it finally plowed through the wall of white, he slipped out, ending up waist high in snow. Oh shit. He tried to move his leg forward but it was trapped in the freezing bulk. He looked over at his mother but she wasn’t doing much better. But she was on higher ground.

  “Help! I can’t move!” He reached forward, squirming and trying his best to get free. It was like quicksand but a whole lot colder. Some of the snow rubbed against his stomach where his jacket and shirt had ridden up.

  “Hang on!” Mom leaned over and managed to grasp his hand. “Shit!” When she tugged, his mitt came away in her hand. “Can you roll forward and lift your legs?”

  “What? You mean like try to swim in it?”

  She nodded. “That’s the only way out, I think.”

  His eyes squinted against the snow whirling and fell forward, getting a face full of it. But wriggling and twisting side to side like some kind of snake, he managed to free his legs. Angela appeared beside Mom, and the two of them reached out and dragged him forward. At the top of the embankment, they pulled him to his feet, and the snow was up just over his knees. But at least he could move.

  The three of them slogged their way back up the steps of the veranda. He glared at the front door where the agent had just gone through. Nice of the guy to stick around to help, all right.

  The shiver rolling down his spine had nothing to do with the cold biting his face and hands. The house. They had tried to escape and had failed. It was like the house wouldn’t let them go. It wasn’t through with them yet. He looked up at Mom and Angela. From the tight look in their eyes, they were feeling the same.

  Mom stepped past him and opened the door; she stepped inside, stamping her feet to get the snow off. The sound echoed in the silent house. Mark looked around and up the staircase, half expecting that old man or Angela’s girl to come flying down.

  When Jake came out of the living room, he still had his coat on. “I just put the last log on the fire. I’m going out to the barn to get some more.”

  Mom’s mouth fell, gaping at him, “You’re not! We don’t need more wood.” She slipped her coat off and shook the snow from it. “We can put the thermostat up. You’re nuts to go back out in that if you don’t have to.”