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

  “Really? Sounds fun.” Jake got to his feet and stretched, throwing a smile down at Mark. “C’mon. This store must have tablets or an Xbox. Might just as well throw it in the cart while we’re at it.”

  Mark’s mouth fell open and he jumped to his feet. “Really?” He thought he’d left any chance of getting a new tablet for the game behind. Mom wasn’t crazy about the time he spent playing even though his grades didn’t suffer. Dad had been the one to convince her to get it. His stomach fell, thinking of his dad.

  “Sure. Your mom’s going to need a laptop anyway, and I’m sure your sister is normally glued to her phone, so we’ll take care of the electronics.” He nudged Mark’s shoulder with his elbow. “They’re busy clothes shopping. They wouldn’t even think about computers. We got this.”

  Mark nodded and followed Jake through the aisles until they got to the electronics department. The area flashed a bit with the TV monitors and computers running, but Mark spotted a shelf of laptops. Great! There was an Aspire Switch like the one Arnie had. He tugged it forward, his fingers running over the keyboard.

  Jake sidled closer “Hey, I thought you were going to get a tablet.” His blue eyes were narrow looking down at him, but there was that same quirky grin.

  “This is actually better. It comes apart...” Mark unhooked the screen and held it up to the agent. “See? A tablet but you can use the keyboard for the game. No plugging in keyboards and stuff. My friend Arnie got this for his birthday.”

  For a moment the guy’s smile faltered and Mark’s gut fell a little thinking he’d say no. But, instead Jake nodded. “Sounds like the right way to go then. “ He bent to reach behind for a boxed unit and handed it to Mark. “Now for your sister and your mom. You pick out what they had before. Deal?”

  “Sure.” He kept his voice level, even though he was already picturing how he’d recreate the castle and improve on his game.

  ***

  Lydia wheeled the shopping cart up to the line of registers. She jumped when Angela nudged her with another cart. Her eyes flitted past the cashiers to the area where she’d left Mark and that agent. Her heart leapt to her throat not seeing them. Oh God. The drug guys? Were they here?

  “Hey Mom!”

  She spun around and her hand flew to her chest seeing Mark race up to her, the agent wheeling a cart behind him. “Mark. Where were—”

  “We got computers for us. Well, for you and me. Angela’s is a phone.”

  Lydia’s hand rested on her son’s shoulder. The kid actually cracked a smile and his eyes were clearer, excited even. If that silly Minecraft game could help get him through this ordeal then who was she to judge?

  She looked past him at the agent who bobbed his eyebrows high and nodded. Yeah. Good call on his part. He must have kids of his own. Did he and his family live in that town, Alexandria Bay? She hoped so.

  Wheeling the cart to the checkout counter, she began unloading clothes for the cashier to scan. Lydia was about to reach in her pocketbook to grab her wallet when the agent appeared next to her.

  “I’ve got this.” The smile had dropped from his face and he shook his head.

  She sighed. Of course. She couldn’t use the credit card because Lydia Robbins didn’t exist anymore. She took a deep breath to get a grip on herself before a fresh onslaught of tears gushed. No. Not here. She took Mark’s arm and went to the end of the checkout, waiting for everything to be bagged.

  She’d change later. That was one thing she agreed with Angela on. She could burn the Armani suit for all she’d ever wear it again. She’d never forget the day, and she’d never wear that outfit again.

  SIX

  Jake

  JAKE WHEELED THE TOYOTA HIGHLANDER onto the express heading north on I-81. He glanced over at Lydia, now decked out in a down parka, even wearing red wooly mittens. The poor woman had no idea what was in store for her in the North Country after living in Florida all her life. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see the kids faces glued to their new devices. He might as well go through the drill while they were driving.

  He reached down beside his knee and then handed the thick folder across to her. “You’ll find new IDs for each of you in here. Your last name is Robertson. Close to Robbins, so easy to remember. We’re changing your name to your middle one. From now on, you’re Elizabeth, or short form, Liza. Close but different. The kids will keep their first names. It’s too easy for kids to draw a blank when their new name is called, like in class or something.”

  Angela snorted, “Great. Sorry for your luck, Mom. Or should I say, Liza?”

  He glanced in the mirror. Good. They were following the conversation. “There’re credit cards, a driver’s license and birth certificates. We’ve opened an account at the bank for you with a balance of ten thousand dollars.”

  Lydia’s eyes were wide when she looked over at him, “But what about my accounts in Miami? There was a substantial deposit, investments, the kids college fund. And...” She took a breath, “...the life insurance.”

  He glanced at her, noticing the set of her jaw, trying to keep her composure. “The bureau looks after all that. Your savings and investment accounts are closed. The money from that, along with the proceeds from the insurance policy, will be credited to your account.” He paused for a moment. The next part was always tricky.

  “But you need my signature to withdraw any amount larger than two thousand dollars.” She was about to protest, staring wild eyed at him, so he quickly added, “We do this for your protection. You need to keep a low profile. And believe it or not, before we made that rule, we had people try it alone. They took their money and fled, trying to make a new life on their own. It never worked out for them.”

  Her eyes narrowed, “How long does that restriction last? Not forever, I hope. My kids will be going to college and I really don’t want you to cosign on that! No offense but...”

  “It’s just for a few years. At least until we know you’re safe and settled.” He glanced over at her. She didn’t look happy about it but at least she was keeping quiet. “We’ve got a job lined up for you at the Department of Social Security. It’s clerical and the hourly rate is fifteen dollars.”

  “What? You’ve got to be crazy! Do you realize I earned close to a hundred grand last year? Fifteen dollars an hour! Right.” Her face had darkened which even the fading light outside couldn’t conceal.

  “Wait! You didn’t let me finish. We top you up. But you have to understand that living in Miami costs more than here.” He glanced out the window at the rolling vacant land beside the highway. “A lot more. Taking that into consideration you only need half of your income to maintain that same standard of living.” He glanced over at her. Yeah, she was hurting but not financially. Pretty spunky. She’d do okay.

  “We’ll see about that.” She turned and gazed out the side window, running her fingers through her hair.

  “What about the school? How many kids go there? Is it some Podunk kind of place?” Angela had leaned forward, her hand on the seat next to his shoulder.

  He blew out a long breath through pursed lips, “Almost three hundred.” He braced himself.

  “Are you shitting me? My school had three thousand kids! Oh maaan.”

  He decided to let it go. “Your house is on the outskirts. It’s four bedrooms and right on the river. There’s a few acres of land and an outbuilding, a barn. Great place to have a dog or a cat. What do you say, Mark?” The boy had been too quiet. The odds were pretty good that the kid never had a pet, and if he did it was probably a bird or a gerbil. Pets could be therapeutic.

  “I’m allergic to cat dander.” Mark’s voice was barely above a mumble.

  “How old is the house? Does it have a modern kitchen? A garbage disposal, dishwasher?” Lydia peered at him closely.

  “It’s turn of the century. An artist couple renovated it from top to bottom with every convenience you’d need or want. They did all that work and then moved to California. Weird.” He didn’t bother to add
that the place had sat vacant for almost a year. The ever budget-conscious bureau had picked it up for a song on the off chance they’d need it.

  With the money they saved they could afford to give him a raise. And here was this woman complaining about her income, more than he made and he risked his life to do the job.

  “Maybe they were in the witness protection program.” Lydia flashed a grim smile at him.

  SEVEN

  Angela

  ANGELA SIGHED. They were on the outskirts of the town, if you could call a smattering of stores and a few low office buildings, a town. There were practically no lights of houses or businesses breaking the walls of pitch-black on either side of the road. It had been a few miles since there’d been any signs of civilization. Where the hell were they going to be living?

  The vehicle slowed and turned down another equally darkened road but instead of the smooth pavement, this road was pitted and bumpy.

  Jake’s voice sounded as worn out as the road they were on. “We’re just about there.”

  “This really is isolated.” Mom’s voice was also road weary, but with an undercurrent of worry. She gazed out the side window and let out a long sigh.

  Angela leaned forward, peering out the front windshield. Slices of the white house showed between the trunks of thick, ancient trees, lined up in a row like sentinels. When they parked next to the walkway, a set of steps led up to a veranda and the front door, where a lone light above cast dim light. Above, two windows like eyes stared down at them as if they were intruders or something.

  Jake opened his door and paused, glancing over at Mom. “You stay here while I check things out and get the lights on.” When he got out and stepped forward, a handgun was in his fist.

  Mark nudged Angela’s shoulder, watching with eyes the size of golf balls. The fact that Jake had his gun out was a stark reminder of the circumstances which had brought them to the old house.

  “I hope he doesn’t just dump us here and then leave,” Angela muttered. The thought of going in there stranded without a clue where they even were, made her shudder.

  Mom sighed. “I’m sure he won’t. This is his job, right?” But her mother didn’t sound all that convincing.

  When Jake opened the door and disappeared inside, Mom leaned over to click all of the car locks. It wasn’t just her then, feeling like a sitting duck surrounded on three sides in the inky-black night. Their mom felt it too. This total darkness was definitely foreign. There were always the glare of lights in Miami. How did people in the country stand it?

  One after another, a series of lights flared in the downstairs windows, marking Jake’s progress through the house. It wasn’t long after the upstairs was blazing with lights, that he strode through the door and then bounded out to the car. Angela flipped the lock and got out. Her leg muscles stretched, relief spreading after the long drive. The air was chilly but not frigid like she’d feared.

  “All clear, just as I figured, but why take chances, right?” Jake slid by her to get the packages of clothes from the back.

  She looked up at the upper level and then continued up the steps, following her mother. The house was old, nothing like the modern ranch bungalow she’d grown up in. Even the smell inside was weird, and the wooden floorboard creaked when she walked across it peering up the wide set of stairs. Her mother’s feet clattered, going down the hallway while Mark was right on her heels.

  “Angela, come and see this.” There was a trace of excitement in Mom’s voice.

  Angela shrugged seeing the agent come into the entryway, his arms laden with their purchases and then joined her mother and Mark. She stepped into a huge kitchen with a granite counter, modern cabinets and an island eating area to the side next to a wide set of windows. Her mother was busy trying the faucets and inspecting the dishwasher, while Mark stared into the refrigerator taking stock.

  “This is better than I’d expected.” Her mother continued scanning through the cabinets and opening drawers.

  Jake came in, and his hands were on his hips looking around. “There’s not that much food. Just staples to get you by for a day or so. We’ll go in town tomorrow to get your car and then you can get whatever you want.” He wandered over to the window and pulled the curtain back. “You can see the river from here, y’know.”

  Angela looked over but of course there was nothing but black showing in the window. “So are you staying with us tonight?” This was uppermost on her mind right then, forget the view and the modern kitchen.

  “Absolutely. I’ll be a fixture for a couple of days to make sure you’re okay here.” He walked over to stand next to Mark who was now rummaging in the fridge’s drawers. “There’s pizza in the freezer and lots of soda.”

  Mom managed a wan smile, “And wine too, I hope.” She stepped over to Angela and put her arm over her shoulders pulling her in close. “Let’s finish the tour and then I’ll put pizza in the oven.”

  There was an arched doorway at the side of the kitchen that led to the dining room. It was furnished with a long dark table, six chairs tucked in and a side cabinet. Two large windows at the side looked newer than the original set in the kitchen.

  “I’m not sure how much entertaining we’ll be doing.” Mom sniffed and then steered them out to the front hallway. “A center-hall plan. Typical for this age of a house.” She was going into real estate mode. Oh no.

  Angela pulled away from her and stepped into the living room. There was a fireplace at the end of the room while a new beige set of furniture, a sofa, love seat, and chairs clustered around a squat wooden coffee table. A reddish oriental rug broke the monotony of the dark wooden floor. She shivered and pulled the collar of her jacket higher. The room definitely needed that fireplace going. It was a lot chillier in there than it had been in the rest of the downstairs.

  Again, there was an archway leading to a small room, lined with bookshelves but completely bare of furniture. She went back to the living room where everyone else was.

  “We left that room unfurnished. You might want to use it as an office or library or whatever. You’ll be here for a while and in case you want to put your own finishing touches on the place, we just left it.”

  Mom looked over at him. “That kitchen update must have cost thousands of dollars. And all the floors have been refinished and new windows? That’s not cheap. Funny for that couple to spend all that money and then just up and leave. They must have been loaded.”

  Jake’s eyebrows rose and he looked away for a few beats. “I’m afraid they focused mostly on the downstairs. The upstairs is almost all original, except for the master bedroom.”

  “Do we have Wi-Fi?” Mark was looking after his priorities, after checking out the contents of the fridge.

  “We’ll get you connected in a day or so. This was kind of short notice, buddy.” Jake sighed and looked down at his feet.

  Yeah. Short notice for Dad as well. Angela took a deep breath and then trudged out of the room, filing past everyone and making for the stairway. Dad was dead and here they were discussing the internet and renovations in the house. It was sick. The whole place and everything sucked. She clomped up the staircase, the squeaks of the boards grating her last nerve.

  At the head of the stairs she looked into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of a white pedestal sink and a toilet. Stepping inside there was a huge bathtub with claw feet and a curved shower rod above it. Oh God. It was probably the only bathroom, and she’d have to share it with the rest of them.

  Turning away, about to leave, she jerked back at the image in the mirror over the sink. There’d been a face there! A girl with long dark hair!

  She peered closer, but now only her own face, framed by disheveled brown hair showed. What the hell? Her heart skipped a beat, and she blinked a couple of times before checking the mirror once more. Nothing now. God. She was so tired and worn out that she was seeing things.