Out of the Shadows (Bellingwood Book 12) (16 page)

"Lydia needs a couple of step ladders. Can you tell us where they are?"

"I'll bring them to her. Ralph is here with me and the two of us might be able to offer our assistance up there for a couple of hours."

"Thank you, Eliseo," Lydia said. "You're a dear."

"We'll be right up."

"Easy as that," Polly said. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Oh no, dear. Not yet. But maybe later." They walked together back toward the main foyer. "Jeff said we could move into the classrooms and lounge this year. That will be helpful, especially as we add more scenes. We were starting to compact too much."

"Whatever you want," Polly said. "I still can't believe we're going to have both a haunted house and masquerade ball on the same night."

Andy stepped out of the lounge. "It's going to be quite the extravaganza."

"You!" Polly said. "I was just talking about you."

"Why?" Andy stepped back. "What did I do?"

Polly explained the scene she'd observed in front of the Springer House the night before. By the time she told them about the women dancing around the fire, Beryl and Len had joined them, everyone fully engaged in her story.

"I'm glad they weren't naked," Beryl said in a hushed voice.

"Why are you whispering?" Andy whispered back.

"Because we're talking about hauntings and ghosts."

"That’s what I was going to ask you, Andy," Polly said. "Have you seen anything strange in the cemetery lately?"

Len grinned. "With all of the talk about Muriel Springer going on again, Andy avoids the kitchen after dark."

"I do not," Andy said, pursing her lips and wrinkling her brow.

"Then you saw the ghostly light floating across the southeast corner last night?" he asked.

"There was no such thing." Andy scowled at him and went back into the lounge.

"Are you joking?" Polly asked.

He shook his head. "No. I saw something. Don't know what it was. About nine o'clock. I didn't think much about it. People go in there at all hours to talk to their family members. And then there are all those people who are doing research."

"Not so much anymore," Andy said from around the corner. "Once they got it all digitized, the genealogists don't come in very often. Usually only descendants wanting a picture of a gravestone or something."

"So, who knows what was going on?"

"Do you guys know Jim Bridger?" Polly asked. "It sounds like he's the one to talk to about Muriel Springer."

Beryl laughed out loud. "Old Jim? He's been telling her story since he was a boy. He wanted to write a book about it once. Asked if I would paint something for the front cover. He wanted a picture showing her hovering in the solarium. Since it was all boarded up, he asked if I could paint it as it was when she died. Make the house look pretty and stately again."

Lydia smiled at her friend. "Did you ever do anything about it?"

"Nah," Beryl said. "He thought I would be satisfied with a portion of the proceeds from his book." She cackled. "Since he never got the thing written, I'm glad I told him no. But he loves that story and I do believe that it gets more exaggerated every year that passes. He even went to the city council to ask them to put a historical marker up, telling the story. A long time ago he asked the city to purchase the land around it so they could turn it into a tourist attraction. If they couldn't get onto the land, at least they could build up around the house. The poor old guy was nearly laughed out of the meeting."

"That
was
a long time ago," Lydia said. "He wasn't a poor old guy back then. But he was always odd. And he always had a thing for that house."

"You don't suppose..." Polly let her thought trail off.

"Suppose what?" Beryl asked.

"I was just going to say, you don't suppose he might have killed Jeremy Booten. Here the kid was with all of his fancy camera gear and a desire to tell ghost stories from central Iowa. Maybe Mr. Bridger was jealous that someone else would make money from it." Polly thought again and shook her head. "No, that doesn't sound right. He didn't seem threatening when I met him. Just a lonely old guy who wanted to talk about his passion." She turned to Lydia. "Was he ever married?"

Lydia looked at both Andy and Beryl, who shook their heads. "No," she said. "He never was."

"Do you think he had a crush on Muriel Springer?"

Lydia stepped back and looked at Polly. "He'd have been in high school when she killed herself. He still lives in the house he grew up in. It's on the corner by the Springer House. Of course he did. From what I remember my parents saying when they talked about her, she was lonely in that big old house and she used to have neighborhood kids come over. They helped her with lawn work and washing windows and other things while her husband was gone. Mother always told me that if I wasn't good I'd have to help the ghost clean her house. I'd forgotten all about that." She gave a quick shudder. "There are so many little bits and pieces of that woman's story peppered throughout Bellingwood's culture. Most of them are probably apocryphal, but even those are often based on little truths."

"I can't believe I've never heard any of this," Polly said.

"Oh you have," Lydia replied. "You just didn't know it. People don't even remember why they avoid Beech Street during the weeks before Halloween, but we do. Well, unless you're a kid. Then it's a challenge."

Everyone wandered back to what they had been working on and Polly went to her office. There was a phone call she needed to make. What was it? That's right. Aaron. At least she didn't have to talk to him about a dead body.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Need to talk. What are you doing this morning?"
the text from Joss read.

"Not much now,"
Polly texted back.
"What's up?"

Her phone rang and she answered, "Hey Joss. You okay?"

"I'm so sorry about my attitude last night," Joss said. "I'm glad I stayed."

"No worries," Polly replied with a chuckle. "Even you get to have a bad day every once in a while."

"Have you been up to the coffee shop yet this morning? I could use some caffeine."

Polly laughed. "I'd love to join you!"

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because yes, I've already been there, but that doesn't mean much. There is no limit to the amount of good coffee I can drink in a day. Are you bringing the kids?"

"Nate is home this morning. He's got a cold and isn't going in to work."

"And he's letting you out of the house?" Polly gasped. "How come you don't have to take care of him
and
the kids?"

"Because that's an argument we had a long time ago. He isn't going to die and I'm not going to coddle him unless he's truly unable to care for himself. But he told me to leave for the morning. The poor guy was probably glad I came home in a better mood last night and wants to see if we can hold onto it for a few days."

"You train husbands really good," Polly said. "There's a whole town of women who could learn from you."

"I'm not cheap," Joss replied. "There's been a lot of learning over the years. However, they have to have good husbands like Nate, too. He's wonderful."

"He's standing right there, isn't he?"

Joss laughed. "Fifteen minutes at the coffee shop?"

"I'll see you there."

Polly had one more phone call to make and she swiped to dial.

"Good morning, Polly," Aaron said. "I know you're at Sycamore House, so I felt safe in answering. What's up?"

"Jeff and Grey were wondering about Jeremy Booten's room at the hotel. His things are still there. Do you want us to box them up or do you need to keep them in the room? Either way is fine. Just let me know."

He hesitated long enough that she continued. "If you need to keep the room, that's okay too. Grey was curious."

"We've been through the room and his things several times," Aaron said. "And yes, that was his car that you found the other night, so we're going through that."

"Can you tell me if his camera gear was in the car?" she asked.

"No gear. We're still looking."

Polly's curiosity was piqued. "Do you think he took a picture of something and that's what got him killed?"

"Now Polly," Aaron scolded. "You know I won't make assumptions until I have better information."

"Then I will. If we find his camera, we'll probably find the killer."             

"There's no we involved in this," Aaron said sternly. "Don't you dare go looking for it."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin. So, did you and Ken know about the fireside séance in front of the Springer House last night?"

Aaron chuckled. "Why am I not surprised that you know about it as well."

"I wasn't involved, but we drove past it. That was weird. I can't believe the neighbors are okay with it."

"This is the last year for the weird stuff as long as that house sells next week. They've been patiently waiting for it all to come to an end."

"Do you believe there's a ghost in the house?" Polly asked.

He coughed. "How well do you know me?"

"Got it. So no ghost."

"If you tell me there's a ghost, Polly, I'll believe it. But otherwise, nope."

"Are the weirdos going to be here all week?"

Aaron let out a sigh. "Every night. They got permission from the neighbors and as long as they're respectful, there's no reason to make it any worse than it is. I'm afraid, though, that after a few days, traffic will become a problem. We'll have to revisit the question at that point."

"You have all the fun," she said, laughing. "Is Jim Bridger involved?"

"You've met him?"

"I sure have."

Aaron said, "I'm sorry, Polly. I need to go. We can talk about this later."

With no more than that, he was gone. Polly grabbed her keys and headed for the back, waving at her friends as she ran to the auditorium doors. Eliseo was running a vacuum while Jeff and Ralph Bedford were stringing lights from the ceiling. Okay, Jeff was doing the work while Ralph held a ladder.

"Are you leaving us again?" Jeff called after her.

"Back later."

She drove up to the coffee shop and decided that she and Joss were getting their coffee to go. There were a few things she wanted to check on before the day was out. The grey, dreary skies were gone for a few days and temperatures were heading for the seventies. It would be a beautiful day to be out and about.

Joss hadn't arrived yet, so Polly went on inside. Skylar was cleaning tables when he heard the door's bell ring and looked up.

"Not enough caffeine in the first drink?" he asked.

"Hush," Polly said. "I'm meeting Joss. But we're taking our coffee to go. I have hauntings to disprove."

He walked with her toward the counter. "I heard about the people from Pennsylvania who were in town last night. They're trying to raise a ghost?"

"Yeah," Polly replied. "I don't know why they're working so hard at it. From what I understand, she'll show up on her own."

He whispered. "Do you think it's true?"

Polly pursed her lips and scowled at him. "No. What I think is that there's an old man who has been telling ghost stories for the last fifty or sixty years until people accepted them as truth."

Skylar slipped behind the counter. "Caramel Mocha?"

She nodded.

"What would you do if there was a ghost in that house?" he asked.

"Tell her that she needed to leave and go on about her business. Her time on earth was finished and she should let go. And if she didn't like that answer, I'd make dinner for her and ask why she needed to stay."

He chuckled. "Dinner? Ghosts don't eat."

"See," Polly said. "That's where you get me. How do you know that? Have you ever invited one to sit down at a meal? We have all these assumptions. Maybe they're just hungry and can't make anyone understand that. I'd be angry too if I hadn't eaten for years and no one thought to set a place for me."

By now he was laughing at her and he looked up when the bell rang again. "Hello, Mrs. Mikkels. Do you want your regular?"

"In a large, please," Joss said. "And if you have any of Sylvie's sour dough rolls, I need one of those, too."

"Got it."

"What are you two talking about?" Joss asked.

"You and I are going ghost hunting as soon as we get our coffee," Polly said.

"Back to the Springer House?"

Polly took her cup from Skylar and pointed at the roll he was warming for Joss. "One of those for me, too," she said. "That sounds amazing."

She turned back to Joss. "Since it's a beautiful, sunny day, I want to go to the cemetery. Len said that he saw lights in there last night while that little fire dance was going on. It might be nothing, but let's check it out."

"If you let ghosts get me," Joss said. "Nate is going to be very angry."

"It will be perfectly safe," Polly said. "I promise."

They paid for their coffee and rolls and went out to her truck.

"You certainly take me on adventures I'd never expected to experience," Joss said. "Here I am on a beautiful Monday morning in October, about to head to the cemetery to look for signs of paranormal activity. Has anyone ever told you that you're crazy?"

Polly smiled. "It's not new information."

~~~

"So, what are we doing here?" Joss asked as Polly pulled into the drive.

Polly looked at her friend with a sheepish grin. "I have a feeling."

"One of
those
feelings?"

Polly wound around the cemetery drive, not sure what she was looking for. During the day, this was a beautiful, quiet, restful spot. Large trees gave shade to the grounds which were beautifully kept. Many of the graves had flower arrangements while a few even had Halloween decorations. It was always a surprise to her to discover the large number of people who maintained this connection to people they loved. She had never been much about cemeteries, but then, neither had her father. She wasn't even sure where his parents were buried.

"I hope not," Polly said, "but something triggered for me in a couple of conversations this morning and I want to drive through here." She grinned at Joss. "And you were the one who wanted to have coffee with me. Don't forget that, okay?"

"Mom always used to take us to the cemetery back home," Joss said. "After Grandpa died, we went out a lot. She missed him so much. On his birthday, we'd pick Grandma up then we'd all go to Dairy Queen and get ice cream cones. Grandpa loved ice cream. There was always one extra ice cream cone for him." She looked out her window. "I wonder how many stories there are like that here. We took lawn chairs with us and sat and told stories about Grandpa. It was a great way for us to get to know him, even though he wasn't there."

"Do you still go out when you're home?"

Joss nodded. "If we have time. I want Cooper and Sophie to know that connection exists." She chuckled. "I read something the other day about how we come from thousands and thousands of people who loved each other. Think about the families throughout history that our ancestors made. We are linked back to the beginning of time and all of those marriages and sisters and brothers and husbands and wives. And these cemeteries only tell short little bits of the story."

"Look there," Polly said.

"A dead body?"

Polly laughed. "No. The gravestones. These are all Watsons. I wonder if they're Beryl's family."

"It's kind of strange to think about the families that have lived in a town for generations. There's so much history right at their fingertips. My grandparents are buried in our hometown cemetery, but their family was all over the east coast before they moved to Indiana. We don't have generational family plots. My parents will be buried there, but I won't."

Polly turned another corner. This was all alien to her. She and Henry had never gotten around to talking about this stuff. She didn't know where his parents would be buried or even what Henry thought about it all. As many bodies as she'd discovered, you'd think they might have talked about their own end-of-life plans.

"What are you thinking about?" Joss asked.

"I don't know anything about Henry's family. Where they're planning to be buried or anything. His grandparents are still alive, but what about their parents. Are they in here or somewhere else?"

"Yeah. It would be kind of creepy to find a dead body resting against a Sturtz family plot, wouldn't it?" Joss asked with a wicked laugh.

"Stop that," Polly said. "I don't want to find a ..." She stopped the truck and laid her head back on the head rest. "Crap."

Joss looked out at the cemetery in front of them. "What? I don't see anything."

"You can stay here if you want. I need to take a walk."

"Did you find another body? How come I don't see it?" Joss scrambled to get out of the truck so she could follow Polly. When she caught up, she looked forward to where Polly was headed and said, "Ohhh. You have to be kidding me."

"If you want to go back to the truck, I get it," Polly said.

Joss stumbled over a hillock and grabbed Polly to steady herself. "This might be close enough for me. I always forget how real this truly is when you talk about it. Your stories make it seem so benign, but death really isn't, is it?"

"No," Polly said, shaking her head. "Go on back to the truck. I need to make sure it's not a silly Halloween prank before I call Aaron." She waited while Joss took a last look then turned and walked away. As she glanced down at the headstone, she shook her head. At least now she knew where Henry's great-grandparents were located. Harold and Mabel Sturtz. Polly ran her hand across the headstone. "Thanks for being part of Henry's long line of loving families. I'm awfully thankful for him. And oh, by the way? He's not going to believe this. But don't bother trying to tell him. I'll give him a call. If you showed up, that might scare him."