Hidden Entity Read online

  Everyone could be heard exclaiming over the approaching thunder. The storm picked up momentum quickly. Winds whipped around the Queen Anne mansion and the dimmed lights flickered off and on. Mac left Bryce for a few minutes and hurried to the main breaker box to make sure the storm didn’t put them into complete darkness. He feared that the storm would bring even more trouble on top of the troubling vandalism of the upstairs room.

  The breaker box looked fine, but Mac could hear the rumbles of thunder begin to pour through the town and echo off the harbor and the sea. Sweetfern Harbor was in for a frightful storm, he thought, and headed back to the party.

  4

  “Listen to those winds,” Allie said, watching the autumn trees swaying dangerously against the stormy sky. Hope and David Williams stood next to their daughter in the foyer while the third tour group formed behind her. “This is a perfect night for a ghost tour.” She shivered with anticipation.

  “I’m glad there are lanterns,” Hope said. “This storm could put us in complete darkness.”

  “This is a real Fright Night,” Molly said. The Morning Sun Coffee owner nudged closer to Jon Wright, the boat rental shop owner, who looked pleased to have Molly by his side. They were dressed as a pair of tattered skeletons. “I can’t wait to walk through this place on a night like this.”

  Molly and Jon joined her mother’s group. Phyllis switched on her lantern and primly cleared her throat. Anyone who thought that perhaps the older woman would be less of an interesting tour guide found themselves proved wrong when Phyllis assumed a spooky, dramatic voice and whispered to the group, her eyes glittering in the dark. “Well, are you prepared to be scared? Follow me…if you dare…” Phyllis gave a merry cackle and swept her witch’s cloak behind her as the delighted tour group followed her.

  Brenda talked in a low voice to her group at the top of the stairway. Each carried a lantern and listened intently as she began telling ghost stories. This was perhaps Brenda’s favorite part. There had been far too many true tragedies that had visited Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, but Fright Night was her chance to make up stories that were not sad but filled instead with drama and excitement. “A disillusioned young woman met her death on this very step,” Brenda intoned, glancing down at the stairs with a tragic expression, “when she collapsed and died. The tale is told that she died of fright...because she knew the house’s secrets…and the house knew hers…”

  A few guests stumbled at her final words. Brenda smiled to herself and admired her ability to weave scary stories. To her knowledge, nothing paranormal had ever happened at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, either before or after Randolph Sheffield restored it. However, the guests didn’t need to know that.

  Brenda slowed her pace and waved her lantern gently over her head and cautioned everyone. “Beware…here lurk the shadows only few have seen. You may meet, when the veil is thin, figures and creatures from other dimensions.” She had enlisted the porter Michael to play the part of such a creature, and true to form, his acting abilities put the fear of Halloween into the guests as he loomed out from behind a hidden closet door, startling them all in his pale makeup and tattered clothes. Heading down the passage, they dodged hideous puppets that swung in their faces as Brenda led them down a narrow passageway before arriving at the bottom of the twisting, constricted staircase that led up to the tower. She turned and faced them all. Lightning flashed just before she spoke. Silently, she jumped for joy at this dramatic moment, although she kept her face carefully sad and dramatic.

  “These stairs are very narrow. No one can possibly turn and go back until you reach the top. There is a spell that was cast centuries ago on this land: once a journey starts, one cannot turn back until it is completed.” She waved her lantern gently again while thunder crashed outside. Wind whistled louder along the rooftop and through the trees outside as they made their way higher in the building.

  Phyllis followed Brenda a few minutes later with her group. Phyllis and Allie came up with new stories of their own. Phyllis was ready and was an excellent actress as she led the ghost tour. When one of her tourists asked if they would find secret rooms, Phyllis said possibly, but to be careful. “I have worked here for many, many years, and I know the sad truth…once a hidden door has been opened, you cannot close it again. The person who opens it may never be seen again, in fact.” She took her time, walking along the planked hallway in silence. She suddenly stopped and held up her lantern.

  She asked her group to listen carefully. “There she is!” Phyllis moaned. “The lonely crying of the woman hidden in the walls!” She was pleased when the thunder crashed again, and rain pummeled down. The whistling wind sounded eerily like a woman crying at times, so that even Phyllis shivered a little to hear it. Several in the group screamed at the sound. Phyllis motioned for them to continue. When she saw Brenda leading her group down the back stairs from the attic, she knew it was her turn to lead her group up to the tower.

  When Brenda returned to the foyer, she laughed with Hope and David after bidding her tour group farewell. “They believed every word. When you take over for Allie later, make sure you have some good stories to tell. The spookier, the better.”

  “We’re ready,” David said. He explained he had sound effects to accompany them, recorded on his phone from the TV station where he was an anchor.

  By the time Brenda escorted her third tour group, the storm had subsided somewhat, though the wind continued to whip around the building. When she led the people near her old apartment at the end of the hall, she stopped. Her group held their breath and waited. Brenda leaned against the wall and listened.

  Guests took her actions as part of the entertainment, but Brenda was sure she heard something scratching. Her act fell away as she listened intently, attempting to ferret out the source of the sound. Perhaps it was simply drips in the drainpipes from the rain, she told herself. She finally shook her head and stepped away. Brenda made a mental note to call an emergency exterminator the next day. One of the tourists asked what was behind the wall, smiling big and waiting for a good story.

  “It could be anything,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, contemplating what Chef Pierre had said before and making a disgusted face, thinking of rats. Suddenly, she remembered what she was supposed to be doing and her voice returned to a conspiratorial tone. “No one knows. The walls have ears! The walls know secrets. Stand back in case something comes right through that wall to steal your thoughts from you.” Everyone moved to the center of the passageway, delighted with her tales.

  Brenda hesitated once more and then moved on with her group. She employed a reliable exterminator to come every year and make sure no animals nested in the basement or found their way into the building. Her chefs always diligently checked the food storage areas for signs of rodents, and none had been seen in years. The exterminator always checked the roof and basement and any other place an animal could possibly burrow its way in. Chef Pierre had been right about hearing scratching, Brenda thought with dismay. Whatever it was had found its way all the way to the second floor and probably higher. She hoped it was something nice, like perhaps a bird’s nest that would be easy to remove and not something nasty like a diseased rodent.

  Karina and Grace were in the group following behind her and traded conspiracy theories. “There must be a secret room after all,” Grace said.

  Karina poked her and said maybe it was a squirrel. “It’s an old building, Karina. And it could be the storm outside, too. Maybe branches are brushing against the outside.”

  Brenda knew it was time to get her group back on track with the eerie stories they had come for. She resumed her tales and sensed the fear and delight returning in the tourists.

  When they returned to the foyer, William asked Brenda if she wanted a break and he would fill in for her. “You look a bit tense, Brenda. Is everything all right?”

  “I’m fine, just thinking about maintenance issues. It’s an old house, our work is never done, I guess. I am a bit tired,
though…perhaps I’ll do one more and then perhaps you or someone else could take over, William. Phyllis is probably ready for a break, too.”

  Brenda began her fourth tour. When they got to the spot where she heard scratching, she stopped again, trying to make it part of her act to listen at the wall, but she dropped the story she was telling because she heard a distinct sound. Brenda was certain this time someone coughed from behind the wall. Three tourists near Brenda swore they heard the same thing. Their lanterns swung a little from shaking hands.

  “Is the creature in that wall, Brenda?” a young woman asked. “Tell us the story. It is a story, right? Not something real?”

  Brenda looked at her and said, “Perhaps it is real, we’ll never know...we will never know since there is no doorway or room behind this wall that could allow a real person to be there. Be careful. Old houses hold secrets. That is my only advice for now.” She tried to make it sound like part of the story, but in truth, she worried more and more.

  “Remember, it is Halloween,” one man jested. “We should expect something like this. It’s all a prop, isn’t it, Brenda? You’ve got something in there rigged to twitch around and make a sound in a hidden panel or something, right?”

  Brenda’s thoughts were interrupted by his remark. She knew she had a skeptic in the group. She produced an eerie smile in the lantern light and said she had no tricks up her sleeves. “It was probably spirits from long ago,” she said. She used her low growling voice in answer. “The ghosts of people who were here centuries ago, no doubt.”

  Brenda hoped she scared the tourists as they expected, though the rest of the tour was a blur and she scarcely remembered getting through it. She found Mac when she was done and asked him to come to the kitchen with her. William took her place in the tours and he and Phyllis combined the final tours together. Hope and David finished up for Allie.

  Brenda and Mac sat alone in the kitchen, Brenda drinking a cup of hot chamomile tea. Chef Pierre and his helpers had finished the kitchen work and were all sitting on the screened-in back porch off the kitchen to watch the final fury of the storm.

  “I heard scratching during one of the tours,” Brenda told Mac. “It came from the wall toward the end of the second-floor hallway. I was sure a small animal was in there until a couple of tours later, I swear I heard someone cough from behind the wall.”

  Mac stared at her. “You are just tired, Brenda. You’re getting too deep into the storytelling of the night. This has been quite a party, and we still haven’t concluded how someone managed to get into the Meyers’ room and ransack it.”

  “There is no way I’m tired at this point, Mac. I’m wired, but not tired.” She smiled weakly and took another sip of tea. “I know I heard something in that wall. There is no doorway behind it, and no room there, either. But I know I heard scratching and then a cough.”

  Mac reached for her hand. “It was in the middle of a severe storm, Brenda. It was probably caused by that. Or it came from somewhere else. You said it yourself—there’s no room there, so how could anyone get behind that wall?”

  Brenda shook her head. “I don’t know, but I know I heard what I heard.”

  “Did anyone else hear it?”

  “A couple of people near me heard the cough.”

  “I really think all of you heard storm sounds, but we can explore in the morning to make sure.” He chuckled. “That must have added suspense to your already spooky tour.” Brenda didn’t find humor in that moment but tried to keep her head.

  “Let’s stay over here in our old apartment tonight,” Brenda said. “We both have to get up extra early tomorrow, and I’ll have a day of clean-up. We also must find out who broke into the Meyers’ room. We can’t let that slide just because nothing was taken.” Mac agreed. “There is sure to be a reasonable explanation,” she said, “but what?”

  Lauren and Ryan joined in with others during the party. Neither opted to take a tour. They felt they had had enough excitement and hoped the detectives could get to the bottom of their situation before they settled in for the night. Detective Rivers checked in with them one last time before everyone retired. He told the Meyers couple that the investigation was in the beginning stages, but they would get to the bottom of it all.

  “Keep your door locked and call right away if you need us. Brenda and I will be down the hall tonight in her former apartment. We checked the lock on your door, and it appears to be secure.”

  The reality of the situation was that no unknown fingerprints were detected in the room or on the door latch into the room. Privately, Mac considered the possibility the young couple purposely set it all up to go along with the Halloween mood of the bed and breakfast. And yet, that didn’t prevent him from performing an official security audit of the entire event. Besides, he reasoned, they appeared genuinely scared and upset.

  After Ryan locked the door for the night, Lauren remained tense. “I don’t think Detective Rivers believes someone came in here and threw our things around. I know I had nothing to do with it, and we were together the whole time, but he doesn’t believe us.”

  “Let’s get some sleep, Lauren,” Ryan said, removing some of his zombie makeup with a washcloth. “I’m sure Mac is simply following protocol. As he told us, they are in the beginning stages. There’s a lot more for them to look in to. Besides, it is after midnight, and we need to get some sleep. I think I’ll sleep in tomorrow morning.” Brenda had informed her guests that breakfast would begin an hour later than usual. He flopped down on the pillow, then rolled over and hugged his wife. “That’s not to say that if you wake up early, I’d say no to you bringing me breakfast in bed.”

  “I think I’d have to be fully awake to consider that.” They laughed, and Lauren gave her husband her last words of the night. “I love you more than anything in this world, Ryan. After a late sleep-in and breakfast in bed, we should talk. I think there is something I should tell you about. But it can wait for tomorrow morning.”

  Ryan attempted to force her to tell him right away. “Is it something about the ransacking of our room? I can’t believe you are going to torture me until morning. Tell me now.”

  “It’s a long story, and we’re already bushed.” Lauren didn’t want him to bolt in the middle of the night once he learned what happened when she was a young girl.

  Ryan pulled her closer and told her he expected to hear her story over morning coffee. “I suppose I have no choice since you seem bent on waiting to tell me. Nothing you tell me could possibly mar my feelings for you, Lauren. I hope you know that.”

  She relaxed and snuggled closer. Both fell asleep right away.

  In the quiet of the bed and breakfast, the Meyerses missed hearing the soft click of the door opening.

  Lauren found herself startling awake in silence without knowing why. Then she felt the sinister presence of the intruder. She didn’t move, frozen in place as she waited for the person to once again ransack their room while he thought they slept. She wanted to awaken Ryan, but feared that any movement might cause the person to get violent. Beneath the covers, she tried to make out the size of the person. She was sure it was a man, but other than that, she had no clue regarding his features.

  Without warning, the figure moved abruptly towards the bed. A knife slipped quickly from the man’s pocket and he thrust it into Ryan’s chest and again into his neck.

  A splash of blood hit Lauren’s face in the dark. The last garbled sound that escaped her husband’s lips would remain in her memory for a long time. As the figure left the room as fast as he had arrived, Lauren gasped when she at last thought she recognized him. She felt the warm trickle of fluid that escaped Ryan’s lifeless body and onto hers. Reality struck, and her blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the corridors of the bed and breakfast.

  Brenda sat up in bed. Mac heard the noise too, and both rushed to the hallway. Several guests stuck their heads out from their rooms in sleepy concern and confusion. Detective Rivers motioned for them to go back into thei
r rooms. Brenda rushed along behind him.

  “I have no idea what is going on,” Marcus told Jolene as he closed the door, “but we should lock the door in case this is the real thing and not a Halloween prank.”

  “That didn’t sound like a prank,” Jolene said. “I think something terrible has happened. It sounded like it came from the Meyers’ room. I heard their room was ransacked earlier today.”

  Marcus had not heard that, and his wife told him of the rumors floating around during the party about the incident. Jolene shivered. “I was nearby one tour when Brenda stopped and listened for something she heard through one of the walls on this floor. I don’t know what that was all about, but it didn’t look like it was part of the fun storytelling. She said the storm sent strange sounds through the bed and breakfast, but behind her mask I saw fear. Or perhaps it was uncertainty in her eyes. Those lantern lights cast eerie shadows, especially along that passageway near the tower stairs.”

  “Calm down, Jolene. We’ll find out soon enough if anything is amiss. Let’s just lay low until the morning. We need to get our sleep. I’m sure whatever she heard was due to the severe storms going on...perhaps someone had a nightmare.” Marcus checked the door again and was assured it was locked.

  Brenda walked quickly around Mac to meet Lauren Meyers as she opened the door and started to run out. Brenda caught her in her arms and told her to tell them what happened. It was then that Mac saw the sure signs of fresh blood staining the right side of her nightclothes.

  Lauren’s hands shook violently as she pointed into their room. “Ryan. He’s…on the bed. He’s not moving. Someone…did something very bad to him.”

  Mac noted that her words in a state of shock resembled one a child would relate. He hurried inside the room and flipped on the overhead light. The bed was saturated with red. The gruesome spectacle that was Ryan Meyers’ body came as a shock even to the detective. The attack had been a brutal one. He immediately called for backup and specifically asked the dispatcher to send Officer Natalie Sims along with the others. He knew that Lauren Meyers would need her.