Blackvine Manor Mystery (16 page)

W
HEN ALEXIS SEES
THE CLOCK turn to 3 am, she knows that spending the night at Blackvine Manor Apartments was a mistake. She wanted to be closer to Amelia, wrapped in her grief over her mother’s death like a heavy quilt, but it wasn’t working. Amelia’s ghost had not appeared and Alexis is sleepless and hurting.

At least the sound of the fountain is soothing,
she tries to comfort herself.

She bolts upright in bed. The Blackvine Manor Apartments’ garden fountain has been broken for years. Listening intently through her open window, she hears the gentle splashing. There is nothing else, no traffic, no neighbors, and no spirit voices, just the water flowing down the two tiers to the round base of the long-abandoned fountain.

She peers out her window and sees the fountain basin half full of leaves, the spouts bone dry, the top hosting the remnants of a loose bird’s nest. Still, Alexis can hear the water and over it the soft trill of a woman’s laugh.

“My Del!” Collin greets his old school friend, Delia.

Alexis sees Delia smiling as she glides around the splashing fountain to grasp both Collin’s outreaching hands. She kisses his cheek and they sit down together on the bench, disappearing from Alexis’ vantage point.

She immediately reaches for her sweater and heads downstairs to the garden. If she can see the two ghosts reliving the meetings that led to Delia’s tragic death, Alexis hopes it will mean her abilities are coming back stronger. Her mother once had a part in this scene, and she hurries out to the fountain, aching for one more glimpse of Amelia.

“You don’t mind?”

“I won’t even ask what’s in it.” Delia waves away Collin’s worried look.

Alexis sees the burlap sack under the bench. In helping her old school friend with a harmless-sounding favor, Delia unwittingly hid millions of dollars worth of stolen jewels. Alexis grasps her necklace, a pedant made of black onyx for protection next to a large pearl. The pearl came from that stash, stolen from the thief by her mother.

She turns and looks up to the second floor studio apartment where her mother used to live. Hoping to see Amelia’s face in the window, Alexis stumbles back and smothers a scream as Otto appears on the ground in front of her.

“He made her an accomplice. He made me destroy her.” He watches the replaying scene sadly.

Alexis is still unaccustomed to speaking directly with spirits but manages, “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a white light or something?”

He twitches his lips in a faint smile. “No rest for the wicked, my dear. Not yet anyway.”

He turns towards her, a look of concern on his hardened face, when the shadow of the building shifts. Moving like an avalanche of darkness, it pours over the lawn blotting out the garden, the fountain, and the ghostly scene. Otto tries to tell Alexis something but she watches as the shadow blots him out and leaves her alone next to the silenced fountain.

“
L
ATE NIGHT
?” GEORGE LAUGHS WHEN Alexis squints at him through her partially opened door. “Open up. I brought coffee.”

She groans, opening the door and snatching the coffee from him as he comes in. “Why are you knocking on my door so early and how did you know I was up late?”

He pushes his dark-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose before saying, “You look … ah … a little rough.”

She shrugs, running a hand through her hair. George shakes his head, Alexis looks beautiful but her eyes have dark smudges underneath and he knows how she is grieving.

“You doing okay?” he asks, sitting down on her red sofa and pouring extra sugar into his coffee.

“Yes and no.” She sits on her low window sill, letting the sunlight warm her back. “I never really knew Amelia; she was gone most of my life.”

He swirls his coffee. “But now you can’t know her. Sorry.”

Alexis blinks back the tears, “No, you’re exactly right. Just knowing the opportunity is gone hurts the most.”

“And still nothing … ah … extrasensory?”

She sips her coffee. “Well, now that you mention it, there was something that happened last night.”

He grins. “You mean around 3 am when you went running out into the courtyard?”

Alexis narrows her eyes at him over her coffee cup. “You were filming the fountain again last night.”

George taps the side of his nose. “And now I want to hear if your version matches what my camera captured.”

His hobby of paranormal investigating is as good a distraction as any from her confusion and grief, so Alexis sips at her coffee and recalls, “I heard the fountain. When I looked down I saw Delia and Collin meeting.”

“Stone Tape theory? They were just playing out old history?”

“Yeah. Except this time I heard him asking her to hide the burlap sack.”

George scoots to the edge of the sofa. “The one filled with stolen jewels?”

Alexis nods. “Yup. Delia was so nice. She didn’t even ask what was in it.”

George’s excitement wanes as he realizes why Alexis rushed out to the courtyard. “Your mother saw Delia take the burlap sack. And Collin noticed her.”

Alexis rolls her shoulders in the warm sun, wishing the tension in her shoulders would ease. “Except she didn’t appear.”

He frowns. “And something startled you.”

“Yeah, Otto appeared.”

“A different past event?” George scratches at his head, making his wild hair wilder.

“No, he actually talked to me. I’m never going to get used to that.”

“That would explain the different ratings, he was a different kind of apparition. That’s wild!”

“No, what’s ‘wild’ is how he was about to tell me something when a massive shadow swept along and blotted him out. Did you catch that on your recording?”

He grabs his laptop and gestures for her to join him on the red sofa. “Something like that. After you were startled, we lost the feed and everything went to static.”

“We?” Alexis gives him a nudge and, though George’s cheeks redden, he says nothing and starts the video.

“See on the thermal recording how Otto builds up? The temperature heats up slowly before he emerges. On the bench, the apparitions of Delia and Collin arrive fully formed and at a lower heat. Which is really interesting because now we can detail differences between certain types of ghosts.”

Alexis watches herself talk to Otto. The moment she notices the shifting darkness is plain on her face. Then the video cuts to sharply crackling static.

“Too bad you don’t have any idea what that dark force is.”

They both remember the increasing paranormal activity happening all over Blackvine Manor Apartments: drawers and cupboards opening on their own, shadow figures searching through apartments, and objects taking flight. Alice Manetti, the psychic medium, tried to warn them of a dark force and was almost crushed by a heavy bookshelf.

Alexis wonders aloud, “A poltergeist can’t block other spirits, can it?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of. Poltergeists mostly just move things around, cause a lot of noise, and throw things.”

“Where do you suppose it came from?”

George puts down his laptop and pushes up his glasses. “Well, we have a theory on that.”

“Who is the ‘we,’ George? Come on, out with it. Do you have a girlfriend?”

George’s ears turn pink. “Bella has gotten really interested in the paranormal. Especially after what happened in her apartment.”

Bella was at the center of a poltergeist encounter shortly after she moved to Blackvine Manor Apartments. It was enough to turn even the skeptical landlord, Maxwell Charles, into a believer, though, true to his nature, Maxwell had assumed something was suspicious about Bella’s rental application. Alexis didn’t have the heart to tell George his sweetheart was operating under an assumed name.

“So what is Bella’s theory on the poltergeist?”

George slumps his shoulders. “Well, poltergeists are drawn in by emotional turmoil. They’ve been known to coincide with individuals who are suffering or angry.”

Alexis gets up sharply, retrieving her coffee and sipping at it through her frown. “Please tell me more.”

Her stiff manner makes George hesitate but he finally says, “The poltergeist activity started just as you discovered your mother was at St. James Care Facility.”

“You mean when I discovered she’d just disappeared from St. James.” Alexis remembers how she felt sitting with her mother’s friend and nurse as he held her hand. Her heart had been soaring at the thought of seeing her mother, and when he told her, the plunge had been so sharp it cut like a knife.

“Exactly,” George says carefully. “It was really hard for you to get that close and feel like you lost her all over again. And then when her accident happened and she . . .”

“She died,” Alexis finishes for him.

“That’s when the poltergeist got even stronger.”

Alexis looks down at the remains of the fountain. “You and Bella think I’ve brought a poltergeist to Blackvine Manor.”

A
LEXIS SITS CROSS
-LEGGED ON her floor and tries not to cry. She gathered up her energy, created her circle, and sat open to communication for hours and there hasn’t even been a whisper. She knows her own thoughts are getting in the way but every time she thinks she may see something there is only darkness.

She undoes the circle and releases her energy. Then Alexis pauses before putting on her black onyx and pearl necklace. She wears it for protection, to try to keep spirits from appearing to her when she isn’t prepared. If only it was her mother whose spirit would surprise her as she turned around. Alexis gets up and hangs the necklace from a hardcover book sticking out of the shelf: one of Amelia’s favorite poets.

Feeling chilly, she digs in the back of her closet to find a sweater. Even with the soft blue sweater on, she feels shivers run up her back. Returning to her red sofa, Alexis sees books jittering to the edge of the bookshelf. Two paperbacks tip over the edge first and drop to the floor. A modern hardcover is next. It falls to the hardwood floor and makes Alexis jump.

“No wonder everyone’s going digital,” Alexis says aloud as she sees a puff of dust explode from the neglected book.

Then the book of poetry starts to slide, the necklace pulled up by unseen fingers. Keeping her fear and discomfort tamped down underneath her curiosity, Alexis peers closely at the bookshelf. There is no spirit that she can discern but there is a definite chill in the air.

When the necklace slips off the book and floats towards the door Alexis reaches out and grabs it. Envisioning the chain of the necklace as a circle of protection around her, she drapes it over her head and faces the bookshelf. Not a single page is fluttering and all is quiet.

Still, she jumps two feet when her phone rings. “Hello? You gave me a heart attack!”

She can hear Maxwell’s smile through the phone. “I make your heart flutter, huh?”

“More like this old building of yours will be the death of me.” Alexis hears him grit his teeth as she realizes what she said. “Are you downstairs?”

“Yeah, I just got here.”

She heads for the door. “I’ll be right down.”

Alexis opens the door and gasps, “Oh my God, you scared me.”

Bella smirks before asking, “Is George here?”

“No, he stopped by this morning but I haven’t seen him since then.” Alexis tries to move around her but the slim blonde just narrows her eyes and blocks the doorway.

“Did you know we’re dating?”

Bella says it so combatively that Alexis frowns. “Congratulations?”

“It’s just I find it funny that he’s always hanging around with you when he’s dating me.”

Alexis laughs. “You’re jealous? There’s nothing between George and I except common interests.”

“Common interests that have to be discussed first thing in the morning?” Bella puts her hands on her hips.

“We’re friends too.” Alexis pushes out into the hallway and shuts her door behind her. “He knows I’ve been having a hard time lately and he brought me coffee.”

“Yes, I know all about your mother.”

Alexis turns on her, stepping close so Bella feels her height advantage. “And do you have something to say to me?”

Bella steps back but juts out her chin. “I suppose George already told you my theory about the poltergeist. It attacked me, you know.”

“And what exactly is this theory of yours?”

“You need to get help, maybe go away for a while and deal with your grief. Your sadness over your mother’s death is what’s giving the poltergeist its energy.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow. “You want me to go away?”

“It makes sense. If you find somewhere else to deal with your sadness, the poltergeist will either go with you or diffuse here.”

“You know, your common courtesy is just heartwarming.”

Bella tosses her hair. “I’m sorry for your loss. I thought you loved Blackvine Manor. Seems like the best thing for you to do.”

“And it seems like the best thing for you to do is tell me why you were following my mother days before she was killed.”

“Why would I be following your mother?” Bella takes another step back and crosses her arms.

Alexis exhales harshly. “I don’t have time to theorize or pretend I didn’t see you following her. It seems like you were pretty familiar with her routine so you’d been following her for a while. I want the truth or we can talk about your fake name, Ms. Bella LaRue.”

“Fake name?”

“Fun fact about Blackvine Manor: our landlord’s grandfather was the chief of police and Maxwell has lots of contacts at the police department. Actually, he’s attending the police academy now and studying to be a detective. Should we go have a chat with him right now? He’s expecting me in his office.”

“You mean your boyfriend?” Bella crosses her arms tighter.

Alexis can’t help the momentary distraction. She hasn’t thought about it until now but things between her and Maxwell have become so steady and so serious, there isn’t another term she can find to call him. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”

Bella titters. “Sorry, it’s just hard for me to picture that lasting.”

“Whatever! Tell me why you were following Amelia or I think the police should know a suspicious woman was stalking her before her ‘accident’.”

“Fine.” Bella rubs her arms uncomfortably. “I knew your mother. She wasn’t in the best health so I was keeping an eye on her.”

“How did you know my mother?”

“She was nice, you know, your mother.” Bella crosses her arms again.

“How did you know my mother?”

“We … ah … lived together for a while.”

Alexis considers Bella for a moment, realizes the truth. “You were at St. James.”