Haunted Tales (9 page)

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mary said when Andrew opened the
door to the old school. “Kristen stopped by my office and told me about a
possible clue.”

“Great,” Andrew said, looking around the hall. “Where is
it?”

“In her classroom,” Mary said, heading in that direction.
“But let’s hurry. I’d rather not turn on the lights and let the neighbors know
we’re here.”

Mary started dashing up the stairs, but after the first ten
steps, she realized that she just couldn’t dash anymore.
 
Grasping the handrail, she stopped to catch
her breath and then continued up in a more sedate pace. “I keep forgetting I’m
pregnant,” she breathlessly apologized.

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Andrew said. “We have plenty of time.
We can go slower if you’d like.”

Mary smiled at him. “I’m good, thank you,” she said. “We
don’t need to go slower.”

They reached the second floor and walked down the hallway to
the classroom.
 
Mary hurried to the desk
and pulled open the top drawer on the right side. “She said there was a secret
compartment in the drawer,” Mary said, knocking on the bottom of the drawer.

“You’re kidding.” he exclaimed, looking over her shoulder.
“I swear I checked this desk inside and out.”

Mary stopped searching and looked at him. “You already
searched the desk?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I did everything I could to solve the
mystery myself.
 
I got the police report.
I went through the school records, and I searched throughout the whole school.”
He chortled lightly. “If I hadn’t read the article about you, I’d still be…”

Mary’s blood ran cold. “You read the article about me?” she
asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I came to see you,” he said.
“Why else would you think…
”

“Mary!”

Mary looked up to see Mike standing in the middle of
classroom. “Mike?”

“You need to get out of here,” he said, his voice tense. “I
can’t interfere, but danger is coming.”

“Mike? Who’s Mike?” Andrew asked.

She held her hand up to silence him. She heard a noise
outside the classroom door.

“Andrew, we need to leave the school right away,” she said,
yanking out the drawer and tucking it under her arm. “I need you to meet me at
my house.
 
And then we need to talk. Can
you do that?”

“What?” Andrew asked. “What’s wrong?”

“We just need to get out now,” she said. “And you need to
promise that you’ll come to my house.”

“I promise,” Andrew said, his voice shaking. He looked
around the room. “Are we going to be okay?”

“I sure hope so,” Mary said.

She walked over to the window and surreptitiously looked
down to the parking lot.
 
As far as she
could see, no one was out there. But, she reasoned, a killer would not park
their car in plain view.
 
She turned and
realized Andrew had already left.
 
Taking
a deep breath, she hurried to the classroom door and carefully opened it so it
didn’t make any noise. She slowly stuck her head out and looked up and down the
hallway.

“Looking for something?” Kristen asked, appearing behind
Mary.

Mary jumped back and stifled a scream. Her heart in her
throat, she turned back to the ghost. “Do you remember the night you died?” she
asked.

Kristen’s haughty face dropped, and fear shone on it. “Yes,
I do,” she said, her voice low.

“I’m afraid that the same person who murdered you might be
here in the school tonight,” Mary said. “And he might be looking for his next
victim.”

Kristen backed up against the wall of the classroom next to
the door. “We can’t go out there, Mary,” she said, her voice trembling with
terror. “He’s going to get us.”

Mary clicked the lock closed on the inside of the door.
“Well, I don’t think we can stay here for much longer,” she replied. “It’s
getting darker, and I won’t be able to make it down the stairs.”

“We should call the police,” Kristen suggested.

“He might be the police,” Mary said.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” she replied.

“Kristen, can you move that chair?” Mary asked.

“Why? Do you need to sit down?” she asked.

“No, I just need to see if you can move things.”

Kristen walked next to the desk and pushed on the
chair.
 
It moved several feet.

“Oh, that’s great,” Mary said. “Is there another exit in the
school?”

“Yeah, the
front exit
,” Kristen
replied. “There’s another set of stairs in the other direction that lead to the
front exit.”

“Okay, I want you to go in that direction, and when you get
close to the other set of stairs, make as much noise as you can,” Mary said.
“Push trash cans or chairs or whatever down the stairs, and then you can
leave.”

“But what about you?”

“As soon as I hear someone running after you, I’ll head down
the other stairs and get out,” she said.

Kristen took the drawer away from Mary, pressed on the
hidden lock, and slid open the panel revealing her journal and the
letters.
 
“Take these,” she said. “It
will be much easier for you to just carry them, and I’ll use this drawer as the
first thing to go down the stairs.”

“Thank you, Kristen,” Mary said, turning and unlocking the
door. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, you, too,” Kristen replied, opening the door and slipping
outside with the drawer in her hands.

Mary slid against the wall, the classroom door slightly ajar
next to her, and waited. Finally, she heard the sound of the drawer bouncing
down the stairs, and then she heard footsteps coming from just down the hall
from her.
 
She held her breath and
prayed.

Her heart jumped when she heard the footsteps pause next to
the door, but another clatter on the stairs had them starting up again.
 
She counted to five and then dashed out of
the room and the other way down the hall.
 
Grasping the handrail tightly, she flew down the stairs as quickly as
she could, her breath caught in her throat.
 
Finally, she reached the main floor and ran down the hall towards the
door.
 
She pushed open the door and ran
towards her car, clicking the automatic unlock when she was five steps
away.
 

She pulled open the door, jumped inside and shoved the key
into the ignition. A moment later she had pulled out of the parking lot and was
speeding down the street. She reached into her purse, pulled out her phone and
called Bradley.

“Hey, honey,” he said. “How are you—
”

“Bradley,” she sobbed. “I’m on my way home, and I need you
to see if Clarissa can go over to Maggie’s tonight.”

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ll tell when I get home,” she said. “But I’m afraid I’ve
just stumbled into a recent murder.”

The beams from the headlights of Mary’s car flashed through
the windows of the school and danced along the walls, like a searchlight from a
prison yard.
 
The lone figure, dressed in
faded Army fatigues, dove into the recessed entry of a classroom, pressed against
the cool wall and hid from discovery.
The light passed by,
racing farther down the hall and finally disappearing into the night.

“I have located the enemy,” the low, raspy voice whispered.
“I have located the enemy, but she was able to escape.”

The soldier punched the wall, then moved out of the
classroom entrance and looked up and down the empty hall.
 
With a stride reminiscent of marching, long
legs carried the warrior back to the main entrance and to the darkened
staircase that led to the basement. Combat-booted footsteps echoed off the
walls of the stairwell as the camouflage on the fatigue disappeared into the
darkness of the lower level.
 
Finally, a
click of a penlight created a small point of light, partially illuminating a
face smeared with black face paint and shadows.
 
Then the footsteps continued, combining with the sounds of the old
school: water dripping from ancient pipes, wind whistling through broken
windows, and the scurry of rodents finding a safer place to nest.
 
At last, they stopped for a moment. The sound
of rusted hinges rang through the basement, and the boots moved forward a few
steps.

The narrow beam swept the wall and stopped at the framed
photo hanging from a rusted nail stuck into the crumbling mortar in the
brick.
 
As the light grew closer, the
photo became more visible.
 
Although
badly faded and stained by mold and humidity, the subject of the photo was
apparent. Kristen Banks, in what looked to be her senior year high school
photo, smiled at the beam of light.

“I only wanted to love you,” the low voice whispered as a
gloved hand delicately traced the edge of the face. “I only wanted to make you
see that I was better for you than Danny. I only wanted a chance. And if you
had lived, you would have given me that chance.”

The glove fisted. “I deserved that chance,” the whisper
changed to a growl. “I deserved you.
 
You
didn’t have to die.
If you had only let me take you.
 
You didn’t have to die.”

Pounding the wall next to the photo with both hands, the
penlight slipped and clattered to the ground.

An anguished moan echoed in the confines of the small
mechanical room. “I didn’t kill you.”
 
It
was more of a plea than a statement. “It was an accident.
Just
an accident.”

Squatting down, the soldier reached for the penlight on the
floor, but now its beam was focused on a lifeless body sprawled on the floor on
the other side of the room. “But now it looks like I’m going to have to kill
yet again.”

Bradley was standing in the driveway, waiting for her when
she pulled up to the house.
 
He was
dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but he looked every bit a knight on a
white charger when he opened her door and pulled her into his arms. “Are you
okay?” he breathed into her hair.

She felt the tension and fear fade as the strength of his
love poured into her. She leaned against him, burying her face in his shoulder,
breathing in his scent, and nodded. “I am now,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

She could feel him nod, but he just held her for a few more
moments.
 
Finally, his embrace lessened,
and he leaned away from her to look into her eyes. “What happened?” he
asked,
his voice a little less soothing and a little more
professional.

“I’ll tell you as soon as we get inside,” she said. “I
really need to put my feet up; my legs are still a little shaky.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and walked her
across the lawn, up the stairs and into the house, positioning himself so she
was always shielded by his body.
 
He
started to walk her over to the couch, then stopped and looked down at her.
“Bathroom?” he asked.

A genuine smile appeared on her slightly pale face. “Yes,”
she said. “That would be essential.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll make you some
tea,” he replied, releasing her. “Then you can sit down and tell me all about
it.”

“Thanks,” she replied, walking to the downstairs powder
room.

When she walked back into the kitchen, she saw the kettle
was on the stove, a cup with a tea bag on the counter, and a plate of cookies
was next to it.
 
She sighed softly.
What a wonderful man
.

She turned the corner to walk into the living room and
realized that Andrew had arrived and was waiting nervously next to the front
door.
 
Mary walked into the room and made
her way over to Bradley, who was building a fire in the fireplace.

“I know it’s not that cold,” he said. “But I thought it
would be comforting.”

Nodding, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Bradley, I
want to introduce you to my client, Andrew Tyler,” she said.

Bradley looked up at Mary and then followed the direction of
her gaze. “Hi, Andrew,” Bradley said, standing up.
“Nice to
meet you.”

“Mary, I’m so sorry I left you,” Andrew stammered. “Suddenly
I was so afraid. I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s okay, Andrew,” she said. “Kristen helped me get
away.”

“Get away?” Bradley asked. “What the hell happened tonight?
And what’s the recent murder you were talking about?”

Mary turned to Bradley and scarcely shook her head, glancing
in Andrew’s direction.

“He doesn’t…” Bradley began.

“No,” Mary replied. “He doesn’t.”

She turned back to Andrew. “Why don’t you come in,” she
said. “And we can talk about what I discovered tonight and a few other things.
I want Bradley to be part of this because he’s the Chief of Police in Freeport,
and I thought he would be able to help us.”

Andrew entered the room and sat down on a chair across from
the couch.
 
Just then the kettle
whistled, and Bradley left the room to pour the tea.
 
Mary strolled over to the couch and sat down.

“I’m just horrified by my behavior,” Andrew said, sitting
forward in the chair and clasping his hands together. “I’ve never done anything
like that before.”

“Well, it was a pretty tense situation,” Mary said. “And I
suppose part of the error was mine. I didn’t ask you all of the questions I
should have when we first started to work together.”

Andrew sat back in the chair. “Ask away,” he said. “I am an
open book.”

Bradley sat down next to Mary on the couch and placed her
tea on the coffee table in front of them.
 
“Thank you,” she said to Bradley, clasping his hand in hers. “I was just
going to ask Andrew some questions.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Bradley replied.
“Because I really want to start hearing some answers.”

“Andrew, you mentioned to me that you read about me in the
paper,” she said. “Do you get the paper every day?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I subscribe,” he said. “It’s pretty much
the first thing I do every morning. I get my coffee and read my paper.”

“Do you remember what was in today’s paper?” she asked.

He started to speak,
then
stopped,
and a puzzled look came over his face. “Huh, that’s funny,” he said. “No, I
don’t. But, you know, it was a pretty stressful day.”

She smiled encouragingly. “And when was the last time you
went to work?” she questioned him.

“Just yester…” he began,
then
stopped. “No, I didn’t go yesterday.” He thought about it for a few moments,
looking down at the floor.
 
He looked up,
confused. “Why can’t I remember when I last went to work?”

“Perhaps the best thing to do is remember the last thing you
did,” Mary suggested, “and we can go from there.”

Andrew nodded, leaned forward and placed his elbows on his
knees and his chin on his hands. “Okay, I remember going through my recycling
bin to find the paper with the article about you in it,” he glanced up at her
with chagrin. “Sorry, I threw you away at first.”

“No problem,” Mary replied. “But that tells me that was
about a week or so ago, because I was several layers down in the recycling
bin.”

“Yeah.
Yeah, I think it was like
Monday or Tuesday of last week.
 
So, I
reread it and decided that I was going to call you first thing in the morning,”
he said.
“Because I’d pretty much run out of ideas to solve
Miss Banks’ murder.”

“What time of that day was that?” Bradley asked.

“It was early evening,” Andrew replied. “Because I’d spent
the day at work, and I was going to go back to the school that night.”

“Did you go to the school?” Mary asked.

Andrew nodded slowly. “Yes. I went to the school,” he said,
his voice halting. “And I noticed that there had been some vandalism, which
isn’t a surprise because it’s an old, abandoned building.”

“What kind of vandalism?” Bradley asked.

“The window in the entrance door had been broken,” he said.

“So someone had access to the interior of the school?” Mary verified.

“Yeah, but the kids won’t go in there because they think
it’s haunted,” he replied with a smile.

“When I went to meet you, the window wasn’t broken,” Mary
said.

Andrew shrugged. “I guess I must have fixed it.”

“What happened next?” Bradley encouraged.

“I went inside the school,” Andrew replied, and then he
thought about it for a moment. “I heard something. I heard something down in
the basement.”

He sat up and looked off into the distance. “I went
downstairs,” he continued slowly. “I was worried that someone would get hurt
down there.”
 

“And then what happened?” Mary asked softly.

Andrew’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.
 
He looked down at himself and then up at Mary
and Bradley. “I never came back up,” he whispered hoarsely. “I never came back
up those stairs.”
 

He looked to Mary for verification, and she slowly nodded.
“You never did,” she said. “Someone murdered you down in the basement of the
school last week. And I don’t think your murder has been discovered yet.”

“Someone murdered me?” he choked. “Why would someone murder
me?”

“Because you were getting too close to solving the murder of
Kristen Banks,” Bradley suggested. “And they needed to cover their tracks.”

He buried his face in his hands. “I’m dead,” he cried. “I’m
really dead.”
 
Then he lifted his head
and stared at Mary. “And that guy… the one who killed me…he was there
tonight.
 
He was going to try and kill
you,” he exclaimed. “Oh, Mary, I’m so sorry. You could have died.”