The Blackham Mansion Haunting (The Downwinders Book 4) (12 page)

Just before they retired, Tabitha learned that Sister
Patricia Orton, Jonas’ wife, informed others that Jonas had passed. He’d
remained comatose as he was transported home, and he died in his own bed.

I wonder if Henry has gone now too,
he thought.
I must check on Emma
tomorrow.

Then his thoughts returned to what he’d seen while in the
River at the mansion. The missing coats. Jonas’ house coming first, instead of
Abraham’s. It seemed like a swirling mess of uncorrelated details, with only
one constant — Bingham.

Nothing will come of this endless speculation,
he thought, trying to force himself
to sleep.
Take it up again in the morning. For now, clear your mind.

He let himself drift into the River and left his body,
turning to look down on himself and Tabitha. She was asleep, and had been for
hours — though not without her own obstacles to it. Jacob’s disappearance still
weighed heavily on her, and tonight she could just as easily have been the one
kept up by a racing mind. He felt sorry for her. She didn’t have the gift, but
with Jacob as a brother, she knew what it meant, and Lorenzo always suspected
it was one of the things that had attracted her to him. Being the
daughter-in-law of a church apostle hadn’t been appealing to her at all. She
disliked the notoriety.

Just hanging there, in the air above himself, he felt his
mind finally slow, and he let himself drop back into his body as sleep finally
overtook him.

It was ended some hours later by a loud rapping at the front door.

He ran to it, wearing only his garment. When he opened it, he
saw the first rays of light streaking through the canyon. In the doorway stood
a twelve-year-old boy.

“Brother Lyman!” the lad said, out of breath. “Please come.
Please come quick!”

“Where, lad?”

“My mother sent me. I’m Alton Blackham. My mother is Sister
Blackham.”

“What has happened?”

“It’s my sister. She can’t wake up!”

Lorenzo saw Alton’s horse standing in the yard. “Return to
your mother immediately, young man, and tell her I am on my way.”

The boy turned and raced to his horse as Lorenzo shut the
door.

“What is it?” Tabitha asked, walking in from the bedroom,
rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Emma Blackham sent her oldest son to fetch me,” Lorenzo
said, searching for clothes. “Something has happened to her daughter.”

He finished dressing and ran for a horse, not bothering to
saddle it.

▪
▪
▪

“Just like the others,” Lorenzo said, holding the hand of
Alton’s younger sister, Frida. “How old is she?”

“Seven,” Emma replied, wiping tears from her face. “Please
tell me she’s going to be alright!”

“Have you called a doctor?” Lorenzo asked. He dropped the
child’s arm. Her pulse was steady, but she couldn’t be roused.

“I sent Alton for Doctor Anderton once he returned from
contacting you,” she replied. “Given what happened with Henry and the others, I
thought you should see her first.”

“How is Henry?”

“Still alive,” she replied. “I heard that Jonas passed.”

“I fear they will all pass,” Lorenzo said.

“Don’t say that!” Emma cried. “Please tell me there’s
something that can be done!”

Lorenzo sighed. He had no idea how to proceed, what he could
do to stop the eventual deaths of Henry or Frida. Bingham would continue to
prowl the houses of Blackham mansion until he found them, like a spider
crawling its web.

“I will try to contact her, if you’ll allow it,” Lorenzo
offered.

“Yes, please,” Emma said.

Lorenzo sat on the bed next to Frida, and closed his eyes,
allowing himself to relax and prepare to enter the River. It was more difficult
to do with Emma watching, but he forced himself to concentrate in the interest
of giving her some kind of hope, and slipped into the flow.

Rising above the bed and drifting to the hallway, he made his
way to the stairwell and rapidly descended it. Then he turned and drifted through
the living room and past the séance table, until he reached the kitchen. He
opened the outside door.

Inside was another front entryway. He entered it, and began
searching for the girl.
Where would she hide?
He wondered.
Her room,
of course. Start there.

He made his way upstairs, watching for any sign of Bingham.
When he reached the upper hallway, he made his way down it until he came to
Frida’s bedroom. He went inside.

“Frida!” he called. “I’m here to help you! Come out if you
are here!”

She’s probably not here,
he thought.
This is the house I found Jonas in.
She’s probably in another house, deeper.

Then he saw Frida emerge from the wardrobe, her small,
freckled face wrinkled in fear. She ran to him.

He grabbed her and lifted her up.

“I can’t get out!” she said. “I’m trapped in the house!”

“Did you go exploring? Did you find other houses?”

“Yes,” she replied. “When I went through the kitchen door, I
was in the front. It kept going and going.”

“Listen to me carefully, Frida,” Lorenzo said, putting her
back down. “Have you seen another man in here?”

“I was in the kitchen, looking into the next house, and I saw
blood on the floor. So I hid up here.”

“You must continue to hide, at all costs,” he told her. “I’m
here to help you, but not everyone who comes into this house will be helpful.
There’s one who will try to harm you. You must not let him know where you are,
ever. Do you think you can do that?”

“I think so.”

“Are you good at hiding?”

“Alton says I am.”

“Good. Stay hidden. I’m going to tell your mother you’re
alright. She’s very worried about you and wants you to know she loves you.”

The little girl began to cry, and Lorenzo picked her up once
again. “It’s alright to cry this once. But you must remain silent, so you are
well hidden. If you make noise, like crying, or walking around, he might find
you.”

I hate scaring the child like this, but how else am I going
to help her?
he
thought.
I have no other options. She needs to be scared, to understand she
must be quiet.

“Can you remain silent while you hide?”

“Yes,” she said, trying to reign in her tears.

“Fine,” he said, lowering her again. “Now hide, Frida. Stay
quiet and hide.”

She left him and returned to the wardrobe, closing the doors
as she tucked her tiny body inside.

He drifted back downstairs, making his way to the kitchen
door, where he found another front entryway waiting behind the door. He went
through.

Which body is here?
he wondered as he began to search.

As he turned into the central room, he found Jonas. His body
was strung up above the table. Splatters of blood had fallen onto the wood
below.

He was going to approach Jonas, but Bingham’s appearance in
the doorway to the kitchen stopped him. He immediately dropped from the River,
knowing once Bingham arrived, there was nothing to be gained by remaining.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Emma.

“Well?” she asked, her eyes already puffy from the crying.

“She’s hiding, which is what I suspect her father is doing,
too.”

“Hiding from what?”

“From Bingham. Willard Bingham.”

“Oh God!” Emma cried, sobbing into a handkerchief. “How can
that be? He’s dead and buried! How can he be doing these things?”

“I don’t know how he’s doing it,” Lorenzo replied. “But as
long as we have loved ones trapped on the other side with him, we will have to
work to release them.”

“How?”

“I have no idea at present,” Lorenzo replied. He wondered how
Frida managed to enter the duplicate houses without having participated in a
séance. “Did your daughter ever exhibit any special abilities?”

“Special abilities?” Emma asked. “Like what?”

“Abilities such as mine?”

Alton burst into the room. “Doctor Anderton is coming,” he
said, out of breath. “Is she alright?” he looked to Lorenzo.

“No, she is not,” Lorenzo told the boy. “Alton, listen to me.
Did you have dreams last night? Do you remember?”

Alton paused to think. “Yes,” he answered. “Strange. I was in
the house, and there were more houses.”

“Describe what you remember. What was strange about it?”

“When I went to the front door, the kitchen appeared.”

“Did you go inside the new house that appeared?”

“No, I was frightened. And then I woke up.”

Lorenzo turned to Emma. “I remember now,” Emma said, looking
at him. “I had the same dream!”

“Did you enter the new house in your dream?” Lorenzo asked.

“No. With all that has happened, I thought it best not to.”

“Your daughter was bolder than you both, and she crossed into
the duplicate houses,” Lorenzo said. “She is trapped in one, just as I suspect
Henry to be.”

Emma began to cry once again. Alton went to her side.

“Emma, listen to me. This is very important. Regardless of
what the doctor tells you, you must pack up your children and your husband and your
things and leave this house, today. You must not spend another night here.
Under no circumstance are you to fall asleep again inside these walls, do you
understand?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Where will we go?”

“You have the means. Go to Parowan, or Cedar City. Salt Lake.
Anywhere you can go to stay. I believe that if either of you fall asleep again
in this house, the fate that has befallen your husband and daughter may well
fall upon you.”

“My God!” Emma cried. “Does that mean there’s nothing we can
do to save them?”

“I don’t know,” Lorenzo said. “But we must stop adding to the
dead. Tell me you will comply.”

“I will,” she replied. “We’ll begin packing immediately.”

“Do you mind if I stay until the doctor leaves? I’d like to
hear his prognosis.”

“Please do.”

He lifted Frida’s hand once again, feeling on her wrist for a
pulse.

Hide, little Frida. Hide.

▪
▪
▪

The doctor had no more to say about Frida than he’d been able
to say about Henry; some kind of coma, perhaps brought on by something they
ate. He mentioned seeing people in this state when they’d attempted to make
Mormon Tea out of local sagebrush, and having chosen the wrong ingredient,
wound up nauseated and sometimes unconscious. He advised constant monitoring and
cool washcloths for the head in an attempt to revive them, but in all else he was
quite useless.

Lorenzo spoke with Emma outside Frida’s room after the doctor
left.

“Unless you can come up with something, I fear the worst,”
Emma said.

“I am racking my brain,” Lorenzo replied. “The only thing
that continues to give me hope is what Jacob said to me moments before he
disappeared. He thought he’d found some type of solution, and was urging me to
convince the group to conduct a séance even though it seemed risky.”

“Did he tell you any more?” Emma asked. “What his solution
might be?”

“No, there wasn’t time. The Sheriff was here, and
circumstances prevented me speaking to him at length.”

Emma lowered her head. Lorenzo knew she wanted to cry, and
was trying to remain strong.

“The best I can think of is to visit Jacob’s father, in
Parowan,” Lorenzo continued. “Jacob had consulted with him just before that
night. He might know what Jacob’s plans were.”

Emma looked up, a ray of hope flashing across her face. “Oh,
would you? Please?”

“It’ll take me away for the rest of the day. You must pack up
and leave, regardless. Do you know where you will go?”

“There is a hotel in Cedar City that Henry and I used
frequently when this house was being built. We’ll go there.”

“Transporting Henry and Frida may be a challenge.”

“I’ll send Alton to Sister Farnsworth’s place. She has a son
and a daughter who will help get us on our way. She’s still distraught over
Espy, and I know she’ll be encouraged to see us leave this place.”

“Very well,” Lorenzo said. “Can I check in on her, once more
before I leave?”

“Please,” Emma replied.

Lorenzo opened the door to Frida’s room. The colorful decorations
on the walls and the collection of stuffed toys in the corner were a discordant
counterweight to the comatose child in the bed. As he approached her, Lorenzo
saw a peach colored rose, lying on the child’s nightstand. He recognized the
color from the bushes in the yard.