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The next couple of days was a surreal blur of policemen, news reporters, and curious neighbors. My body was numb, like I was in a tunnel, watching it all play out in a strange slow-motion reel.
The police dogs found Andrea’s body in a shallow grave beneath the trees next to the creek. The grave wasn’t any closer to the Crooked House than anyone else’s house, and nothing found tied her to Beaumont, Lester, or the house—other than my own testimony. It was enough for Sheriff Packard to bring them in for questioning and for an army of men, including a special crime scene investigation unit, to scour the house.
My mother was the first person I saw after we left the barn and met up with the police. I didn’t know how strong I’d stayed until I crumpled into her arms and sobbed. She held me tightly and caressed my hair.
I talked to Andrea’s parents briefly. Her mother looked at me, her eyes bloodshot and face full of pain, as if her soul had been left with an empty hole she would never be able to fill again. I was nervous about what to say, but I felt Andrea with me. I opened my mouth, and I’m not sure where my words came from, but they came out with honesty and sincerity. I told them what I had seen, despite what the police had found. I also told them about Andrea’s spirit and that she was around them to comfort them in their grief. I owed her that much. I wasn’t sure if my words penetrated or helped at all.
Sheriff Packard allowed me to visit with my parents and Andrea’s family for a short while, but he kept close, listening and watching. I knew what he wanted. He couldn’t wait to question me.
He was the same with my friends. He allowed their families to comfort them, then his deputies took each of them separately for questioning. I caught Dawn’s eyes as an officer led her to another area to talk to her. She looked concerned but strong.
Packard gripped my shoulder. “I need you for a moment.”
I looked at my mom, who nodded, then followed him to his squad car. I sat in the front passenger seat while he took the driver’s.
“How are you doing? Are you okay?”
I was wrapped in a gray blanket the officers had given me, and I drank from a Styrofoam cup of water. I needed them both. “Good. Still shaky. Did you find the man in the barn?” When we first came upon the police I told them someone chased us into the barn and was still there, and Rosco backed me up.
“I sent a couple of guys to check it out.” Packard stared out the front window for a moment then turned to me. “What brought you here, Ret? Why did you and your friends come to Lester’s house?”
“I just—we wanted to find Andrea. We were looking through the field and ended up here.”
“At night? In the dark?”
“Yes. I know it sounds weird, but we didn’t want to give up. We wanted to find her.”
“Lester and Beaumont said you boys broke into his house. They came home and found you running from his kitchen.”
“We did sneak into their house, but—”
“Why? Ret, why did you go into their house?”
I thought of the torn piece of Andrea’s dress in my pocket. I was afraid to reveal it. How could I tell him? Had one of my friends already divulged that information? If I didn’t, and they did, that would look bad for me.
“Those two were acting real suspicious. I just had a feeling.”
Packard’s stare drilled into me. There was no escaping his lie-detecting capabilities. “Don’t feed me a line of bullshit, Ret. I wonder if I hadn’t driven by Lester’s house the other day if you and Dawn would have broken in then. This is serious stuff. We’re through with lies and excuses. If all of this is true, and those two are behind Andrea’s disappearance, I need every bit of information and evidence I can find. Do you understand? Let’s start again from the beginning. You and your friends got together, and what did you say to each other?”
I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. I had to tell him. “I found a piece of Andrea’s dress.”
I pulled it from my pocket and showed him. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.
“Where did you get this?” He took the cloth, holding it between two fingertips. He took a small plastic baggie out of his shirt pocket, carefully placed the cloth inside, and sealed it.
“You’re going to find this crazy, but there’s a ghost who lives in that house. She brought it to me. After that, I had no doubt where Andrea was.”
“A ghost?” Packard rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ret, let’s keep this story in the real world.”
“You wanted the truth. No bullshit, Sheriff. Look at my eyes. Tell me I’m lying.” My assertiveness surprised even me. He studied me again.
“Weeks ago, my friends and I snuck into that house on a dare. Before Lester moved in. Halfway through the night, we ran into a ghost who scared the hell out of us, and we tore out of there. Her name is Mathilda Stockholm. She and her husband, Henry, moved into this house in 1902. They had a daughter. She drowned in that house, and Mathilda took her own life. She now haunts the place.”
Dumbfounded, Packard remained silent as he sorted his thoughts. I hoped the facts about the Stockholms and the house gave my story credibility.
“Well, you know your history, but I still can’t buy the ghost story. What happened next?”
I told him everything and pulled no punches.
When I finished, he nodded. “Okay, you’ve been through a lot. I’m going to have the medics check you out. It’s standard procedure, and I want to be sure you’re all right.”
“Okay, but there’s one more thing. The man we left back in the barn. It’s Todd Harrison.”
Packard stared at me expressionlessly, as if not knowing how to react. “Todd Harrison? We just buried his body. You must be mistaken. Trauma can cause that.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” I shrugged.
“You’ll need to come into the station and fill out an official statement. I’ll be in touch with your parents.”
“Are you going to arrest Beaumont and Lester?”
“There’s a lot we have to do. They’ll be brought in, they’ll be questioned, and God willing, we’ll have enough evidence to make them fry. But I’m a steward of the law. I can’t do anything without evidence.”
“What about everything I just told you?”
“It does have merit. Believe me, it helps. I’d have nothing else to go on if I didn’t have your testimony. But your word is not enough all by itself. Andrea is not inside that house. They deny any involvement. I’m going to do my best to get every piece of evidence I can find and present it to the district attorney. It’s up to him to decide if there’s enough to prosecute.”
“How long is that going to take?” I asked.
“Let’s just say we have a long road ahead of us. I’m going to hold them as long as I can. It’s my job to protect this city.” He turned and gave me an earnest look. “I need your help, Ret. You need to come to me before you do anything like this again. Is that understood?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“I’m serious. You are in no position to take this on. You just kicked a hornet’s nest, and I need to keep you safe. You come to me next time. I am on your side.” His eyes held sincerity and caring. I was no lie detector like him, but I could recognize the truth.
A photograph on his dashboard caught my eye. It was Packard and his family. His wife stood on one side, with two children—a boy and a girl—between them.
“Is that your family?” I pointed.
“Yes,” he said hesitantly.
I looked at his hands. He was twisting his wedding ring back and forth between his forefinger and thumb nervously.
“You guys look happy together.”
“We were.” His eyes turned glassy. “We surprised our kids one day by taking them to the zoo. That picture was taken on that day. It was a good day.”
“They look really nice. How come I haven’t seen them?”
“My kids live with their mother. We divorced, and she moved back to Massachusetts and took my kids with her. I don’t see them much.” He forced a quick, brave smile and rubbed his eyes. I remembered our conversation at the park on the Fourth of July, when I’d asked him about his family. He said they were “fine” and walked off. I knew I’d struck a nerve then, and I suddenly understood why.
“My mom and dad fight a lot.” I didn’t know why I’d shared that. Perhaps I thought if I shared a similar pain in my life, he wouldn’t feel alone. “They don’t seem happy anymore.”
He rested a hand on my knee and smiled. “It may not mean anything, and it may mean something. Whatever happens, just know your parents love you, and it’s not you they fight about. Life happens, and it doesn’t always go the way you want it to go. Bad things happen to good people, like Andrea and her family, and they don’t make sense, but we go on because we have to. If something does happen with your parents and they separate, just know it’s done because it’s the best thing to do. Staying together hurts more than it helps. Life will change. Just embrace it the best you can and roll with the punches. Okay?”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
He eyeballed my Black Widow shirt. “I thought the Black Widows retired.”
“They came out of retirement for one last mission.”
“Let’s keep it their last.”
“You got it.”
“And for hell’s sake, call me before you do anything stupid like this again. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”
I felt a tingle of warmth in my chest.
“I’m getting kinda used to you being around.” He grinned and gave me a friendly wink.
Once I left the sheriff’s car, I headed through the crowd to my family. Officers were guiding Beaumont to a squad car, hands cuffed behind him, his head down. The crowd parted for a moment, and there was a clear line of sight between us. He was fifteen feet away.
Beaumont lifted his head, and his eyes burned a glare into me like sunlight through a magnifying glass. His lips peeled back from his teeth, and his face shook. If he could have willed harm to me with mere thought, I would’ve been dead on the spot.
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat. I’d never felt so much hatred from someone. I remembered what he’d said in the basement about the Tormentor—he was running out of time to save his friends he’d escaped from prison with. He needed more bodies to pull his friends into our world, and I had just thrown a wrench into his whole plan. It was no wonder he hated me.
The cops opened the back door to the squad car, pushed his head down, and directed him into the back seat. Once inside, he resumed his burning stare.
“Ret?” My mom approached me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Ready to go home?”
I nodded and followed her to our car.
***
“GROUP OF LOCAL CHILDREN Claim to Have Found Missing Teen’s Body in Neighbor’s Home” was the headline next morning, and we were the top story on the local TV news. However, my parents didn’t allow me to be interviewed on TV because they were concerned about the trauma I’d already been through.
I lay in bed most of the day, and at irregular intervals, my body trembled and convulsed in shock. I was silent, and my family left me alone, except for my mom, who brought me food, warmed up a blanket for my shivers, placed an extra pillow under my head, and treated me to a shake later.
We watched the local evening news together. It was all surreal, like a nightmare come true. My brothers asked me questions after it aired, and I told them how the news got some things wrong. Even though only Jax had gone to call the police, the reporter had said we’d all run from the house and gone straight to a neighbor to call the police. They didn’t talk about the barn incident at all.
I filled in my family on all the actual details, including the grisly ones and supernatural elements. On each of their faces, I could see the inner debate as to whether to believe my story wholly or not. I felt my mom’s stare, and I knew what questions were behind her eyes.
Later, my mom asked everyone to leave and get ready for bed, except for me. Scott said mockingly, “Oooh, Ret’s in trouble.”
“Scott!” Mom snapped at him, and he stopped then raced down the hall to his room. Mom stepped over to the couch and sat next to me. “Ret, I can’t believe all of this has been going on. All this time?”
“I know.” I looked at the floor.
“I’m just... in shock.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know you guys snuck into that house for a sleepover. On a dare? I have always warned you to stay away from there. It’s dangerous. And all this Nancy Drew mystery act you’ve been doing, researching at the library, following and spying on Mr. Beaumont and Lester, finding Mrs. Beaumont’s body! And then you break into his house! Did you really see Andrea in the basement?”
I nodded.
“That’s awful. How could I not know all of this was going on?” Guilt filled her moist eyes. “I know it’s been an adjustment since I started working full time during the days. I’ve had to in order to afford this house, but it’s not worth it. Not if these things are happening to my kids.”
“No, Mom. It wouldn’t make a difference if you were here or not. This whole thing was my idea. I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even tell my friends until the other day. There’s not anything wrong with me. It’s just that terrible things are happening to people in this town, and someone had to do something. I saw things while working for Beaumont and felt it was my responsibility to follow through.”
“But I need to know about these things. You do understand that, don’t you? I’m your mother, and it’s my job to protect you. A big part of that is knowing what you’re doing.” She started to sob and rested her forehead in her hand. “I should be here.”
I put my arms on her shoulders, and she cradled my head into her. “It’s not your fault, Mom.”
She wiped her nose with a Kleenex, hugged me, then pulled back to look at me again. “You could have been hurt—or even killed—last night, Ret. Did they really send a man after you? And he chased you into that barn?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I talked to Sheriff Packard earlier, and they detained Mr. Beaumont and Lester for questioning, but he found no sign of the man in the barn. If it’s true, then that man is still out there, and I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to have to ground you.”
“What? Why?”
“For your own protection. At least until this blows over. There are too many unanswered questions. Children are being stolen and killed. From now on, nothing outside this house.”
“For how long?”
“At least a week. Let’s see where things are at in a week.” She took my face in her hands and looked at me. “Okay?” She gave me a warm smile and hugged me tightly. I knew she was thankful I was still alive.
I went to bed, and an hour later, my dad arrived home. I woke up to the front door slamming shut. Not long after that, I heard my parents arguing. I sandwiched my head in my pillow, attempting to muffle the sounds, and fell back to sleep twenty minutes later.