The Haunting of Pitmon House (11 page)

“Agreed,” Robert said. “It’s a different perspective.”

“You’re new to this,” Granger said. “You don’t understand
your limits. If we reach a point where we have to back off for everyone’s
safety, we’ll back off. You need to understand that.”

“Excuse me,” Eliza said, rising from the table and walking
toward the door. She wanted to step outside and breathe the air for a moment;
her emotions were riding high, and she didn’t want to say anything that she’d
regret. She passed through the hallway and into the office. When she reached
the door that opened to the outside, she realized it was locked in multiple
ways, and she couldn’t figure them all out. Frustration grew inside her until
she heard a voice behind her.

“Here,” Robert said, walking up to her with a key. “Let me.”

He had the door open within seconds, and held it for her.

“Thank you,” she said, and slipped out. She took a few steps
and looked up at the night sky, letting the air escape from her lungs.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Robert asked.

“No,” she replied. “I just needed to step away for a moment.”

“I understand. He means well, trust me.”

“I know he does,” she replied. “It’s just that I feel I have
to do all the convincing. It’s becoming exhausting.”

“I’m on your side,” he said. “You don’t have to convince me.”

She looked at him. Light from the streetlamps lit one side of
his figure, and the other was dark. She felt that if she wasn’t wrapped up in
trying to help her brother, she’d make a pass at him and see how he responded.
The attraction was there, she was sure of it. He also seemed to have everything
she liked in a man — the ability to listen, and to show up. His handsomeness
didn’t hurt.

“Thank you,” she said. “That makes two of us.”

“We’re all on your side, really,” he replied. “Even if it
doesn’t seem like it.”

“Rachel almost bailed,” she said. “When she learned Pitmon
House was involved, she almost dropped me like a hot potato.”

“Rachel’s had a difficult history,” Robert said. “Don’t judge
her too harshly. I think she’s on board.”

“She told me that in her past, someone got hurt. What
happened?”

Robert smiled. “It’s not for me to say. I try to stay out of
people’s personal affairs.”

“Well, that’s admirable,” she replied, a little irritated
that he wouldn’t tell her, but appreciating his ability to keep a confidence.
She felt herself liking him even more.

“Listen, my dad just wants you to understand the
consequences,” he said. “Trust me, I’ve been dealing with him my whole life.
There’s an easy way to handle him; just nod and agree. He needs to see that
you’re hearing him. It doesn’t mean he’s against you or won’t help. He just wants
to know you’ve heard him.”

“Like my father,” Eliza muttered.

“Parents are all the same, I guess,” Robert replied.

“Let’s go back in,” she said. “I’ve had enough air.”

“Good,” Robert said, stepping aside to let her pass.

When they walked back into the space, Granger was on the
phone.

“He’s talking to Harlan Alexander,” Rachel said. “The phone
number he had for him in the journal still worked! He’s trying to get an
appointment with him.”

“See?” Robert whispered to Eliza as he passed her, on his way
to the kitchen.

Eliza smiled and took a seat at the table.

“You OK?” Rachel asked.

“I’m fine,” Eliza replied. “Just needed some air.”

“Let’s see what happens,” Rachel said. “One step at a time,
OK?”

“Just as long as things keep moving,” Eliza said. “Shane’s
not doing any better. I don’t know how much time I’ve got.”

Granger hung up the phone. “Well, well!” he said, returning
to the table. “He was downright chipper. I’m seeing him tomorrow at 10.”

“Thank you,” Eliza said. “I apologize for walking out.”

“No apology needed,” Granger replied. “I know the stress
you’re under. Tomorrow I’ll try to get permission from him to enter the property,
and we’ll go from there.”

“First stop, Reid Pitmon?” Rachel asked.

“It’s the only stop we’ve got at the moment,” Granger
replied. “If he’s as talkative as Nick suggests,” he tapped Nick’s journal with
his finger, “we might make some headway.”

It was a day off for Eliza. Normally she spent such days
buying groceries and doing housework, but with Shane still in the hospital and
all the travelling she’d been making to Madison, there was still plenty of food
in the house. Shane’s absence also meant cleaning wasn’t really urgent.

Still, there were chores to be done, if she was inclined to
do them. She was looking out the kitchen window, knowing the grass was in need
of cutting, when the phone rang. It was Granger.

“Got the keys,” he said.

“That quick?” Eliza asked.

“He spent more than a decade since Nick died trying to get
someone to help,” Granger said. “No one would touch it with a ten foot pole. He
was more than receptive to my offer. I’d like to go inside as soon as you can
get here, during daylight if possible.”

“I’m on my way,” Eliza said. “Meet you at the house?”

“Let’s meet at my place,” Granger said. “We can all go in one
car. I’d like to bring as little attention to what we’re doing as possible.”

“I’ll call Rachel,” Eliza said. “See you in a bit.”

The grass can wait,
she thought.

●

As they drove into Madison, Rachel began to have second
thoughts. “We need to be very careful and not underestimate this place. I used
to hear all kinds of bad things about it.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” Eliza replied.  “But I
never even heard of it until now.”

“Normal people don’t know,” Rachel said. “It was a gifted
friend of mine from years ago. She wouldn’t even say the name of the place.”

“Who’s this friend?” Eliza asked.

Rachel’s lips pressed together. “No one,” she replied.
“Doesn’t matter.”

“But she was gifted?”

“Yes,” Rachel replied curtly. There was an awkward pause.
“Alright, yes, we had a falling out, over the whole thing I told you about.”

“Oh, the guy who got hurt?”

“Right. We used to be good friends. At least, I thought we
were. We haven’t spoken since it happened. Anyway, she knew of Pitmon House.
Said it was black spotted.”

“Black spotted?”

“When gifteds consider a place so dangerous they want to warn
other gifteds about it, they say it’s ‘black spotted’. I don’t know if it means
there’s literally a black spot on it…I never went there to see. The look on her
face when she mentioned it was enough to keep me away.”

“Since those of us with the gift aren’t going to be spooked
by the kinds of things that might scare normal people,” Eliza said, “then
designating something with a black spot must be pretty severe.”

“Exactly.”

“Or just a way to scare off gifteds,” Eliza said, “from
something someone doesn’t want them to see.”

“Hmm,” Rachel replied. “Hadn’t thought of it that way.”

They arrived at Granger’s and transferred to his car, a tiny
Fiat. Eliza couldn’t believe that Granger would fit into the front seat, but as
she watched, he opened the door and slipped behind the steering wheel, his
knees almost touching it and his head scraping the roof.

“Tell us about the trustee,” Rachel said, as Granger drove to
Pitmon House. “What did he have to say about the place?”

“After Nick’s death,” Granger replied, “which, by the way,
Harlan considered a result of the supernatural forces inside the house, he
couldn’t get anyone interested in investigating the place. He tried for years
and eventually gave up. The trustees looked into selling it, but in the end
decided to sit on the property until land values made it more profitable to put
onto the market. He also thinks they felt that the more time that went by, the
more people would forget about the deaths.”

“Deaths?” Eliza asked.

“Oh, yes,” Granger replied. “He told me what happened to the
residents. Funny that Nick didn’t mention it in his journal. And you can’t find
anything about it in the reference materials on the house. The trustees did
their best to bury the story.”

“Which was?” Rachel asked.

“A gas leak,” Granger answered. “All of the residents were
found dead in their beds, asphyxiated by an overnight gas leak. He said it was
a miracle the place didn’t explode. Staff aired the place out, but each of the
residents were gone — nineteen of them. The trustees sealed the place up and
it’s been vacant ever since.”

“A gas leak,” Robert repeated. “And I suppose they found the
leak and repaired it.”

“Harlan didn’t say,” Granger replied, “though he seemed similarly
skeptical.”

“Wow,” Rachel replied. “So we’ve got plenty of deaths in the
house.”

“I asked him for a list of names,” Granger continued. “But
he’s old and forgetful. He told me to contact their family lawyer. He said he’d
call her and ask her to share information with me. We’ll go to her if we need
to.”

“So the plan for today is still to contact Reid?” Eliza
asked.

“That’s the plan,” Granger said, pulling his car to a stop
alongside the high brick wall of the Pitmon estate, but well before the iron
gates. “We’ll see where it leads us. Now. Let’s be smart about this.” He passed
a flask back to Rachel and Eliza. “Two big swigs, each of you.”

Eliza took the flask and downed the protection, then passed
it to Rachel. She swallowed and passed it back to the front seat, where Robert
drank and then Granger. He slipped the flask into his jacket pocket, and they
got out of the vehicle.

Eliza imagined their exit probably looked like a clown car —
four grown adults emerging from a tiny Fiat. She resisted the temptation to
crack a joke.

It was early afternoon, and Granger led them as they walked
down the sidewalk. Eliza looked up at the brick wall as they went. Ivy had
grown up some of its surface, but had been obviously cut back by gardeners. The
top of the wall was capped with black ironwork, freshly painted.

When they reached the gate, Eliza peeked through the bars as
Granger slipped a key into the lock. In the bright daylight the place still
looked foreboding. She could see little details above windows, ornamentation
that signaled the mansion’s opulence. Looking up, the windows of the second
story came into view. She wondered what was going on behind the glass up there;
something so dangerous it had scared off every gifted for miles.

The lock clicked and Granger pushed the gate open. “Let’s get
inside quickly,” he said, allowing the others to enter while he remained to
lock the gate closed. They stepped swiftly down the cement walkway toward the
building. Trimmed shrubs lined the path.

“Someone obviously pays to keep the place maintained,” Robert
muttered.

“I got the feeling from Harlan that money wasn’t an issue,”
Granger replied. “Whatever endowment was established years ago to care for the
aging members of Pitmon’s family, that money has kept flowing, even without
residents.”

They walked up five wide steps and were on the porch.
Ornamental brick surrounded the large door, and in one or two spots where there
was wood trim, the paint was a dark grey. A round window was situated at eye
level, made of panes of exquisite stained glass, each held in place by thin
streaks of lead, forming a geometric pattern. Eliza felt a chill as she saw it
again, worried what might be behind it.

Granger fumbled for another key, and after a moment he
located one and inserted it into the lock on the door. He twisted it, and the
door opened.

A rush of stale air rolled out.

“Feel that?” Robert asked.

“I do,” Rachel replied. “This might be a problem.”

“What?” Eliza asked.

“The pressure,” Robert replied. “You don’t feel it?”

“No,” Eliza answered.

“We’re protected, at least for a little while,” Granger said.
“Come on, let’s not waste the time we’ve got.”

Granger walked in first, followed by Rachel and Eliza. Robert
closed the door behind them.

The entryway rose up two stories, housing a curving staircase
that stretched out before them, and a giant chandelier suspended from the
ceiling. Sofas and chairs formed sitting areas under the chandelier; they were
covered with dust cloths. A giant fireplace sat to the left; you could see
through it to whatever room was beyond it on the other side.

Wide archways to the left and right led to side rooms. Eliza
looked down; the flooring was some kind of stone.
Marble,
she guessed.

“Wow,” Rachel said. “I can see why the politicians couldn’t
afford this!”

“I’ll say!” Robert replied.

Eliza listened carefully. It bothered her that their voices
seemed muffled; she would have expected some type of echo or reverberation in
such a tall, massive room with stone floors. The sound of Rachel and Robert’s
voice didn’t return at all; it sounded dull and abbreviated, clipped to silence
the moment the utterances were complete.

“As much as I’d enjoy exploring this floor,” Granger said, “I
think we should take advantage of the protection and head straight for Reid.”

“Agreed,” Robert replied. He followed Granger to the
staircase.

A red carpet was attached to the stairs, held in place over
the marble by thin bronze rods tucked into the base of each step. As a result,
their ascent was silent, and Eliza turned to look up the massive, curving
staircase to the three doors that comprised the landing. They were taller than
normal doors, with intricate inlaid wood patterns. The carpet continued from
the stairs, running alongside the doorways, but the landing itself was very
wide, and had room for more sofas and chairs, each covered in white sheets.
They stopped when they reached the middle door.

“According to Nick,” Granger said, “this is Reid’s room.
Everyone ready?”

“He just talks, right?” Rachel asked.

“Wait,” Robert said, sniffing at the air. “Smell that?”

Eliza inhaled. There was a fragrance; she knew she recognized
it, but couldn’t place it.

“Smells like flowers,” Rachel observed. “It’s strong.”

“What if it wasn’t gas?” Eliza asked.

“Wasn’t gas?” Granger asked. “What do you mean?”

“Harlan said they died of a gas leak,” Eliza said. “But that
was a long time ago, and they’ve been trying to rehabilitate the house’s image.
What if it wasn’t a gas leak, but some kind of poison?”

“You mean,” Rachel said, “like what we’re smelling now?”

“Exactly,” Eliza replied.

“If it’s a poison,” Robert said, “I’m not feeling any
effects. Do any of you feel anything?”

“No,” Granger replied. “Then again, we’re full of protection.”

“I’m not feeling anything other than nervous,” Rachel said.

“You, Eliza?” Robert asked.

“No, I was just speculating.”

“Let’s stay aware of the possibility,” Granger replied. “If
you start to feel anything unusual, speak up.” He reached for the handle and
twisted it, pushing the door open.

It was a large room with a sitting area and desk in the
front. Toward the back was a large four-poster king size bed, stripped down to
the mattresses, and next to the bed was a giant armoire. A door to the right
was open, and Eliza could see a bathroom inside.

“OK,” Granger said. “Let’s see if Reid will talk to us.”

They walked in, Granger still in the lead, and Robert
bringing up the rear. As Robert attempted to close the door, Granger stopped
him. “Leave it open while we do this, will you, son?” he asked. “I’m feeling
claustrophobic as it is.”

Robert pushed the door back open, revealing a view of the
sitting area on the landing.

“I would like to sit for this, if you don’t mind,” Rachel
said. “My legs feel a little shaky.”

“Shaky — as in poison shaky?” Eliza asked.

“No, as in nervous shaky,” Rachel replied. Robert pulled the
sheet from a sofa, and Rachel took a seat on it, right in the middle. Robert
looked up at Eliza, wondering if she wanted to sit too. Eliza shook her head;
she was too amped up to sit. She felt like pacing, but resisted the urge.

“Reid!” Granger called. “Reid Pitmon! We want to speak with
you!”

Dead silence. Granger looked at the others. “Nick’s journal
made it sound like this guy was readily available.”

“That was years ago,” Rachel replied.

“Let’s start by dropping into the River,” Granger said.
“We’ll go further if that isn’t enough.”

Eliza sensed the others entering the flow, so she allowed herself
to jump in as well. She’d learned to expect changes in her physical
surroundings when she did so, but the room they were in didn’t change at all.

Reid?
Granger called again.
Reid Pitmon?

There!
Rachel called, her hand pointing to the bed.