Rosecliff Manor Haunting (8 page)

“Rose, what are you doing here?” Addison asked.

Rose sat in a chair in front of Officer North’s desk. Neither looked pleased. 

“I’ve dropped the charges,” Rose said. “You’re free to go.”

“I … don’t understand?”

Rose snapped the clasp on the front of her purse shut and stood. “What’s to understand? I’ve explained everything to the police, and they’ve agreed to let you go. You shouldn’t be babbling on. You should be happy.”

What had Rose explained?

And how?

And
why
?

Any story Rose had given in an effort to undo the damage would have been fabricated, a consequence that could have Rose facing her own criminal charges. It was a risky move either way.

“What did you say to get me released?”

Rose gave Addison a look that said she couldn’t fathom why Addison couldn’t leave well enough alone and keep her mouth shut. “As I explained to Officer North, in talking to my son tonight, I learned you left your wallet at the house earlier today when you stopped by. He’d tried calling to let me know you were on your way, but I was already in bed and didn’t answer. He told you where the spare key was and advised you to pop in and out without waking me, which, of course, you did, until your overly nosey nature led you to the attic. No matter now. I know you meant no harm.”  

It was, of course, a well-orchestrated lie.

Addison thanked Rose and turned her attention to the waiting room and to Luke, whose pained expression made it clear just how hurt he was over the ordeal. “Luke, I—”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

She nodded, and nodded, and nodded, the only thing she could do to keep from falling apart.   

Addison and Luke descended the steps in front of the police station. Rose followed close behind. “I’d like to speak to Addison. Alone.”

Luke looked at Rose. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“It is, and we’re all tired. I could have left her in jail tonight, and I didn’t. I’m sure Addison’s aware I didn’t come here as some kind of Good Samaritan.”

“I’m aware,” Addison replied.

“We’ve all been through a lot tonight,” Luke said. “If I promise she’ll stop by in the morning, can it wait?”  

“It cannot,” Rose said. “Why don’t you run along, Luke? I’ll see she gets home all right.”

Luke did not agree to “run along,” as Rose suggested, but he did offer an alternative solution. Rose could drive Addison home in her vehicle while Luke followed behind. He wasn’t letting Addison out of his sight. Good deed or not, it wasn’t up for negotiation. 

Rose’s car was an older model Cadillac in pristine condition. Addison opened the passenger-side door, slid across the tan leather seats, and buckled up. “Your son didn’t have anything to do with this, did he?”

“He’s not aware of any of it. And I have no interest in telling him either. He’d just fuss and coddle me until I suffocate. I figure if I’m wrong about you, if you are a criminal, well, I can always blow your head off if you try for round two.”

At least she was honest. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I’m not helping you. I’m helping myself. I thought the two of us could have a chat while I drove you home.”

Rose was different now, not only in tone of voice, but in expression, like she’d shed one of her thick outer layers and lowered her guard.

“What would you like to ask me?”

Rose put the car in drive and pulled onto the road, the reflection of Luke’s familiar headlights glistening in Addison’s passenger-side mirror while they drove along.

“I’m a skeptic, you know,” Rose said. “Someone who doesn’t believe in life after death. I was raised a non-believer. It’s the only truth I’ve ever known. And yet, part of me wants to believe you. Who knows why? I struggled to get back to sleep tonight, and I imagined I’d spend the rest of my nights much the same way if I didn’t at least hear what you have to say.”

“Are you saying you believe what I told you before, about the curtains and the stain on Grace’s dress?”

“I’m saying, I’m not closed to it. Not entirely. Still, you’ll have to convince me.”

“How?”

“If you can communicate with Viv and Grace, prove it. I’ll tell you something only they will know.”

“I want you to believe me, but it doesn’t work like that.”  

“Why not? Aren’t you some kind of medium? Aren’t you supposed to be able to conjure things up whenever you like?”  

Addison shifted in her seat, facing Rose. “I see the girls when they want to be seen. It’s not up to me. It’s up to them.” 

Rose sighed. “You realize this isn’t helping you any, right?”

“Think of it this way—if I was a fake, wouldn’t I at least try to give you what you’re asking?”

Rose turned onto the freeway. “Tell me how it works then. What happens when you do see them? Tell me straight. Assuming I might believe you, how is it you came to be in the lives of my girls, and just what do you mean to accomplish by breaking into my house?”

“The first time I saw your girls was at a funeral several months ago. I was there for someone else. I looked over, and they were chasing each other around your husband’s grave. At the time, I didn’t realize they weren’t alive.”

“When did you?”

“They appeared to me again several days ago, this time in a dream they seemed to be controlling. I saw the past, your manor, your husband’s car, the cat.”

“How old are they now? What do they look like?”

Addison answered her questions, giving the most detailed description she could about the girls’ hair, their dresses, anything to justify what she had seen was real.

“What are they like?” Rose asked. “What do they say to you when they talk to you?”   

“I’ve only seen them a few times. Vivian usually does all the talking. Grace hides.”

To Addison’s surprise, Rose let out a slight giggle. “She was always the skittish one of the two. Afraid of everything, she was.”

“I don’t think she understands what happened to her like Vivian does.”

“You mentioned the stained dress earlier, and I’ll admit, it got me thinking. No one else knew I changed their clothes that day. Their father was still at work, and their brother was at a neighbor’s house. What I don’t understand is, how did you manage to get the key to the attic? It’s been missing for ages.”

Though reluctant, Addison squeaked out, “Shadow showed me.”

“The damn cat?”

Addison nodded.

“You’re saying, not only am I supposed to believe you see my dead children, you see dead cats too? What about my husband? Any visits from him?”

“This isn’t a joke, Mrs. Clark. I know it sounds like one, but it isn’t. Not to me, and not to your daughters.”

“Why have they come to you? What do they want?”

They wanted what any deceased person wanted—the ability to move on.

“Do you believe in heaven?” Addison asked. “In any kind of afterlife?”

“For my children’s sake, and my husband’s, and any chance I have of seeing them again, I have no choice. No matter what my own parents taught me, I have to.”

“Your girls are still here, trapped somehow, unable to move on.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I suspect it has something to do with the night they died. Something unresolved.”

“Why come to you? What can you do about it?”

Addison took a deep breath and said, “I can find out how they really died.”

Rose hadn’t even flinched when Addison alluded to Vivian’s and Grace’s deaths being more than a mere accident. She kept her hands gripped to the wheel, looking straight ahead, without talking. The silence was unsettling and also telling. What did Rose know that Addison didn’t?

It wasn’t until Rose had parked in front of Grayson Manor that she mentioned her daughters again. “I feel them sometimes, you know? At least, I tell myself I do. At times it’s like if I make the slightest turn, I’ll run right into one of them.”

“Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“At first I thought I’d created their presence in my mind, convinced myself they were still with me because I was desperate for it to be true. Those early days, I was consumed with their deaths, unable to experience any kind of a life without them. Years passed, and although they never went out of my mind completely, I finally found a way to heal, to stop thinking of them every moment of every day.”

Addison looked Rose in the eye. “Do you believe me now?”

“Let’s just say, I’m more open than I was before.”

“What do
you
think happened to your daughters? Do you believe their deaths were an accident?”

Rose fiddled with the zipper pull on the top half of her jacket, zipping it up and down. “I don’t know, Addison. When they died, I was desperate for someone to blame. It’s how I lost all my friends, you know. They all thought I’d gone mad. The police closed the case, and everyone wanted to move on. And why shouldn’t they? It wasn’t their children they lost. It was mine.”

“If I could get to the truth of what happened, the
real
truth, would you help me?”

“Help you how?”

“The police concluded Vivian and Grace fell after trying to retrieve the doll from the roof. I asked Vivian about the doll. She had no recollection of it, which means either she can’t remember or she never played with the doll that night.”

“The doll belonged to Grace. I’d given it to her the prior Christmas. She never showed much interest in the doll, so I stored it in the attic along with a box of other toys. When police found it, I thought they’d dug it out of the box that night and decided to play with it, like an old toy they’d found a renewed interest in. How it came to be on the roof is a mystery. My girls were intelligent, neither one ignorant. I never believed they climbed out the window over a silly doll.”

“I can tell you this—they weren’t alone in the attic the night they died.”

Rose entwined her fingers together in her lap. “How could you possibly know? Did they tell you?”

Addison had already admitted to seeing ghosts. Why not throw a vision into the mix?

“Sometimes when I touch things, certain objects, I’m able to see into another time.”

“What are you saying? You have the ability to travel through time?”

“In a way. I can’t alter an event or prevent it from happening. What’s done is done. I’m more of a fly on the wall.”

“And you’ve had a vision about that night?”

“I have. The girls were playing hide-and-seek, and they weren’t alone. There was at least one other person in the attic at the time.”

“Who? What did he look like?”

Addison described him.

“Hmm. Could be any number of teenage boys,” Rose said. “They all wore their hair in a similar fashion back then. Even my Derek. You didn’t ever see his face?”

Addison shook her head.

“The game stopped when Vivian found something that belonged to the boy—something he was embarrassed of when he found out she had it.”

“Do you know what it was?” Rose asked.

“Paper, maybe pages from a magazine. They were folded up like he had them in his pocket. They must have fallen out while they were playing. Vivian was teasing the boy. He asked for the papers back. She said no. She ran across the room, held the papers out the window, and pretended to drop them. The boy leaned in, snatched them away, and Vivian fell out the window.”

Rose’s head jerked from side to side like she was picturing it all in her mind. “The pages, could you see them? What they were like?”

“Ripped on one side, smooth on the other.”

Rose clasped a hand over her mouth. “Ripped … like they’d been torn from a magazine.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve kept you too long, Addison. You hurry up to bed and get some sleep. I’m going to give you my number. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when Luke poked his head inside the bedroom door and whispered, “Lia McReedy’s at the door.”

Addison half-opened one eye and looked at him. She’d seen his lips moving, but was unclear about what he’d just said. “What did you say?”

“Remember the medical examiner from several months back? She’s downstairs.”

“Yeah,” Addison said, propping herself into a sitting position. “I saw her last night.”

“You … ahh … didn’t mention it to me.”

She hadn’t mentioned it because he’d prevented her from doing so, choosing to go straight to bed when they arrived home hours before. She’d scooted beside him in bed, tapped him on the shoulder, asked if he was awake. No response. She told herself he was already asleep, even though she knew better.  

“There are a lot of things we need to talk about,” Addison said. “I want you to know how sorry I am about everything. I never should have gone to Rosecliff Manor without telling you. If I could take it back, I would.”

Luke rubbed a hand across his jaw. He seemed disappointed. Angry even. “I’ve never once given you a reason to doubt me, Addison. Last night when I realized you weren’t next to me, realized you weren’t even in this house, I called your cell phone. Did you answer? No. I got your voicemail. How would you feel if you were trying to get in touch with the person you love, and … you know what? I can’t do this. I can’t talk about this right now.”

He turned.

“Luke, wait.”

It was too late. He’d already walked out, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Addison flung the covers to the side and hopped off the bed, picking a pair of sweat pants off the floor and pulling them over her bare legs. She twisted her hair into a ponytail, passing the bedroom mirror without glancing into it. She didn’t need to. She knew how hammered she looked.

When she descended the stairs, she saw Lia perched on the far end of the couch, hands interlaced over her lap.  

“Did you see where Luke went?” Addison asked.

She pointed to the front door. “He walked out a few seconds ago. He seemed irritated. Is everything okay?”

Addison sat across from her. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Tom is my boyfriend,” Lia blurted.

“Yeah, I kind of figured when I saw your picture.”

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you. When his book came out, he took all the heat for everything he said about the Clark twins. Never once mentioned me, or my involvement.”

“He’s trying to protect you.”

“I guess so. I’ve never been in a decent relationship. I mean, I’ve dated a lot of guys, but they all turned out to be self-absorbed pricks. It’s hard to find a good guy these days, you know? Tom is almost too good to be true.”

She did know. Luke had loved her in a way no one ever had. In return, she’d pushed him away. “Tom seems like a great guy.”

“He is. I’m the screw-up.”

“Trust me. Right now, you couldn’t possibly be the screw-up I am.”

Lia smiled. “Thanks, but, I should have never put Tom in the position he’s in.”

Suggesting she’d put him in a position at all was an admission of something.

“What has people so enraged? Tom told me the older people in the community questioned his motives for saying what he did. It’s been several decades. Why do people care if another theory is put forward now?”

“Some see it as an attack on the police department. He pointed a finger, said they didn’t do their job. Pleasant Valley is a town, not a city. They band together. They don’t appreciate outsiders coming in and making accusations.”

Addison leaned back, crossed one leg over the other. “Are you going to tell me why you wanted Tom to say what he did in his book?”

Lia paused.

“Lia, you can trust me.” 

“I … okay. My grandfather worked on the original investigation.”

“He was one of the investigating officers?”

She shook her head. “He was an ME, just like I am. When he looked over the twins’ bodies, he couldn’t find any evidence of foul play, but their deaths … they just seemed off somehow.”

“Did he try talking to anyone about it?”

“He talked to everyone. He pushed to keep the case open when the police wanted it closed. He went to the family, talked to everyone there that night. The fact he wouldn’t let it go pissed off a lot of people.”

“When you say
people
, are you referring to the Clarks?”

“He took a lot of heat from the cops working the investigation at the time. They were convinced my grandfather was trying to say they were incompetent, just like Tom is doing now. My grandfather wasn’t incompetent. He was just trying to pick up where they left off, see what he could find out on his own time.”

“Did he discover anything suspicious?” Addison asked.

“Most people he talked to were tight-lipped, too nervous to talk about it. My grandfather suspected it was because what happened was so tragic, everyone wanted to put it far from their minds.”  

“I imagine your grandfather is retired. Why resurrect his suspicions now? Why is it so important to you?” 

“A year after the case was closed, my grandfather continued to bring the twins up in conversation when he could. At that point, even the sheriff was sick of hearing it. My grandfather was fired. He went to work for another county, but Vivian and Grace were always in the back of his mind. Last year, he died. A few weeks before his death he admitted his one regret was never finding out what really happened to the Clark girls.” She glanced out the window. “Now you know my story. What’s yours? Why are you so interested in the Clark girls?”

Addison liked Lia. She had since the first time they met, when she’d followed her into the wooded area behind her house and was told to steer clear of the crime scene. She even imagined the two could be friends. But right now didn’t seem like the time to bond over stories of visions and spirits. “I read Tom’s book. It piqued my interest.”

“Piqued it enough to break into Rose’s house? Oh, come on. Tell me there’s more to it. There has to be.”

Addison despised lying, but having no other choice, she blurted the first thing that popped into her head. “I’m writing a book too.”

“You’re what?”

“When we first met, and Roxanne Rafferty’s body was discovered, it made me wonder how many other unusual or unsolved cases there are in New York. I did some research. Turns out, there are quite a few.” 

“You didn’t mention your book to Tom when you spoke to him.”

“I didn’t want to offend him, or for him to feel like I’m using him for information.”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

“I’m only trying to find more stories like Roxy’s and bring them to light.”

The sound of the clock on the mantle ticking seemed to go on forever while Addison waited, hoping Lia would believe what she’d just told her. When she couldn’t bear the silence any longer, she said, “I’d like to help you find the answers you’re looking for—prove your grandfather was right.”

“Why? So you can take all the credit in your story?”

“I won’t take any of the credit. I’ll give all the credit to him.”   

“What makes you think you can get anywhere? All Tom managed to do was to make people angry.”

“He did more than you think. He got people talking, got them thinking about it again.”

“People like who?”

“Rose Clark. She’s always had her suspicions.”

“How do you know?”

“I talked to her.”

“Wait a minute. She’s the one who had the charges dropped, isn’t she?”

Addison smiled. “She is. We talked, and I’m hoping everything’s fine now.”

“You
talked
? I didn’t think Rose talked to anyone.”

“For over an hour.”

“Well? What did she say?”

“I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“And then?”

“Then I find our murderer.”