The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion (12 page)

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Authors: Roger Hayden

Tags: #mystery, #mystery detective, #mystery amateur sleuth, #mystery action, #mystery amateur, #mystery and crime romance, #mystery action adventure, #mystery and suspense thrillers

BOOK: The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion
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Behind her was a window with vertical blinds
open, revealing the backs of the congregation standing at the pews
and holding hymnals and singing together. Mary approached the woman
first as she stood, holding a leather-bound hymnal out for the
taking.


Welcome to the First Christ Church of
Redwood,” she said with a smile and hushed tone. “My name is
Barbara.”

Mary took the hymnal and introduced herself
as Curtis approached from behind. A water cooler in the rear corner
of the room bubbled. The surrounding white walls were adorned with
paintings of historical saints and a door to the side led to a
darkened room with books in the window identified as the Reading
Room.

Curtis shook Barbara’s hand and apologized
for their tardiness. She waved him off and then told them that they
could go inside once the hymnal was done.


You recently moved here, yes?” she
asked.


We sure did,” Curtis
answered.

Barbara looked them over and then asked if
they were the couple who had purchased the old mansion on
Weatherford Lane.


That’s us,” Curtis said.


Wow,” Barbara commented. “I didn’t
think anyone was going to buy that old place.”

Curtis was quick to respond. “Trust me. It’s
taken us a lot of work.”

Barbara turned to Mary with a smile. “I hope
you’re planning to stick around for the barbecue. It’s our first
one this year.”


We’re looking forward to it,” Mary
said.

The signing died down and the congregation
as the congregation took their seats. Barbara turned to the window
and then approached the door to their right, opening for them.
“Enjoy the service,” she said.

Mary and Curtis thanked her as they walked
inside, heads turning as they searched for a place to seat. Mary
went immediately to the third pew to their right which had a spot
right at the end. A stained-glass window shielded the bright rays
of the sun and Mary looked ahead as the organist switched off the
organ and Pastor Phil approached a podium overlooking the crowd.
Curtis smiled at an older couple seated next to them as he sat with
Mary at the end. They had made it this far, she thought. The worst
was over. She sat there as the room went quiet and Pastor Phil,
wearing a beige suit and blue tie adjusted his thin rectangular
glasses from the podium while looking down at his marked bible
below. He looked up and seemed to make sudden and direct eye
contact with Mary, causing her to look down.

The seated patrons consisted of adults of
all ages, however, most of them older and gray. Pastor Phil spoke
with clarity and conviction, and Mary could tell he had been doing
this for a while. He gave blessings for the peaceful Sunday morning
and then read from the scriptures, discussing faith and
sacrament.


It is our duty to love one another
while adhering to the message of our Lord and Savior.” He paused,
holding a finger in the air. “Let us never forget the sacrifice
bestowed upon us in this world of sin. Let us come together under
the banner of truth and love, of which are natural elements of His
plan.”

As his sermon proceeded, Mary’s mind
couldn’t help but wander. She thought of the diary back home and
how she had neglected to do her due diligence and research
everything she had checked out at the library. It had been an
exhaustive, busy week and she couldn’t blame herself entirely. The
pieces were there. All she had to do was to put them together.
Pastor Phil continued on as his audience sat silent, seemingly
captivated by his small-town charm and charisma. Mary could see
that he was an experienced speaker with a smooth gravelly voice
that invited calmness with his careful, measured words over the
speakers in the ceiling.

She looked around the room and its
stained-glass windows, wondering how long the church had been
around. Ultimately, she just wanted the entire affair to be over
with. They were newcomers to the town and the thought of putting on
a friendly face and making a good impression among strangers was
nerve-racking in itself. Perhaps she wasn’t completely out of her
funk just yet. She noticed an elderly couple turn their heads in
unison from three pews ahead and make eye contact with her. They
nodded as she smiled in response. She turned to Curtis whose eyes
were forward, trying his best to pay attention to Pastor Phil’s
seemingly endless sermon.

On the wall next to the organ was small
board with three hymn numbers listed on it. Pastor Phil took a step
away from the podium, holding his own hymnal in hand and instructed
the congregation to prepare to read from page 115. The organist
began playing as the people rose from their pews. Mary and Curtis
stood up as well, sharing the hymnal and signing in a barely
audible tune. As the congregation broke out in chorus, it was clear
that their arriving guests were new at this. Mary looked down at
the page of as the words in the verse made little sense to her. Her
lips moved, but barely a sound came out. It was going to be a long
morning.

***

The Sunday service had ended with most of
the congregation convened in the field behind the church with
picnic tables aligned and hot dogs and hamburgers smoking on a
nearby grill. There were several families out, wearing their Sunday
best. Children played together, running around with colorful
streamers as Mary and Curtis made their way outside, slightly
overwhelmed with close to a hundred people mingling together.

Mary walked along with Curtis by her side,
feeling almost invisible to everyone. Pastor Phil was talking to a
young couple under a canopy which offered much-needed shade from
the sun and waved at them to come over.

They approached with Curtis outstretching
his arm to shake Pastor Phil’s hand.

“So nice of you two to make it,” Phil said
with a tight, firm grip. He shook Mary’s hand more delicately while
complimenting her dress.

“Thank you,” she said. “We’re glad to be
here.”

Wearing dark shades, Phil signaled to the
smoking grill as his smile extended. “I hope you brought your
appetites. Looks like we have more than enough food.”

“That’s great,” Curtis said. “Excellent
sermon by the way.”

Mary thought he was laying it on pretty
thick, but Phil seemed to take the compliment in strides.

“Thank you so much,” Phil said. He then
looked at Mary, half expecting additional praise, and then signaled
to the couple standing next to him. “This is Lucille and Steven
Hardwick. They moved here roughly six months ago.”

The attractive couple turned to Mary and
Curtis and shook their hands. The woman was short and petite with
long red hair and freckles. Her husband was much taller and lanky
with curly blond locks. “Welcome to Redwood,” he said.

“It’s a pleasure,” Curtis said. “I just love
this town so far.” He looked at Mary as her tight-lipped smile
began to wane. “We really struck gold with this find. That’s for
sure.”

“I heard you bought the old Bechdel
mansion,” Steven said.

“Sure did,” Curtis responded. “Looking to be
the best investment we’ve made so far.”

Suddenly, the woman, Lucille, took Mary’s
hands in hers and spoke. “I simply have to show you around. These
are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

Mary nodded and then looked to Curtis
nervously as Lucille began to pull her away.

“Go meet some of the folks,” Curtis said,
clearly more interested in engaging the newly-introduced man before
him. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Mary reluctantly gave in and allowed Lucille
to guide her to other couples as the aroma from the grill made her
stomach growl. They approached a group of five women in their
Sunday dresses standing around a picnic bench in the shade of a
tall oak tree, fanning themselves in unison.

“Ladies, this is Mary Malone,” Lucille said.
“She just moved her from…” Lucille paused and turned to Mary.
“Where is it that you’re from?”

“Chicago,” Mary said to the group.

The women nodded back with inviting smiles
as Mary shook their hands. They were middle-aged, slightly older
than her, and distinctively reserved like something out of the
Victorian age. Their husbands, its seemed were gathered around the
grill behind them, in their own huddled conversations full or cheer
and laughter.

The women introduced themselves accordingly
as Trish, Ellen, Madison, Bridget, and Allison. They each had a
fair amount of makeup on with sparkling earrings dangling from
their hair lobes. Two of the women looked nearly identical in both
physical appearance and clothing. They also both brandished sun
hats and wore large designer sunglasses. Mary glanced at them a
little too long, their shoulder-length auburn hair, slender necks
and matching pearl necklaces, when Ellen, the woman to her right
made a comment.

“Yes, we’re twins,” she said. “But our
matching wardrobes were
not
planned, I can assure you.”

Her sister, Madison, tilted her head back
with laughter, touching Mary’s hand. “Do you have any
siblings?”

“Yes,” Mary answered. “One brother and one
sister.”

Madison leaned in closer with a crooked
smile. “So you can understand what it’s like. We’ve had this
problem since we were children.” She paused, shrugging. “After a
while, we just embraced it.”

Mary was curious. “You mean to tell me that
you dress alike without even realizing it.”

Ellen Stepped in. “It’s like looking in a
mirror sometimes, I tell you.”

Madison waved her away as the other women
laughed. “Of course, I’m the more attractive one.”

Mary smiled as the group continued laughing.
A pack of small kids ran past them with their dress clothes
slightly downgraded. They were the same bunch she saw running with
streamers only minutes ago. They were all boys, elementary
school-aged, and that’s when it dawned on Mary that she hadn’t seen
a single young girl in the crowd anywhere.

“Tell me, Mary. How are you and your husband
settling in?” the older of the women asked. Her gray hair was
permed and she had a rose emblem pinned to the chest of the dark
blue blazer over her flowered dress. Her face was caked in bronze
make-up with dark mascara around her blue eyes. She had the
brightest of bright red lipstick Mary had ever seen any woman wear.
Her eyes remained on Mary with intense, unblinking focus.

“Just fine,” Mary replied. “It’s been a very
busy week and we’re just glad to get out and meet some of the
townspeople.”

“Tell me, love,” the woman named Bridget
belted out suddenly. “What are you and your husband going to do
with all that space?” She was a short frumpy woman whose eyes were
also concealed behind dark sunglasses. As she had feared, Mary felt
immediately uncomfortable with the question.

“It-It’s daunting, that’s for sure,” she
said.

“What made the two of you want to move into
that old place in the first place?” the woman asked with her hands
out and chubby digits extended.

“Bridget, please,” Lucille said.

With the soft curls of her faux bob
bouncing as she waved Lucille off, Bridget leaned closer to as
though she were addressing Mary in confidence. “You
do
know what happened there, don’t
you?”

“Bridget! That’s enough,” Lucille said with
conviction.

Bridget paused and looked around at the
faces of disapproval surrounding her. “Sheesh. It was just a
question.”

“What do you know about the Bechdels?” Mary
asked abruptly to the group as a whole. She received stunned
silence in return.

“That’s not really appropriate church talk
if you don’t mind,” Lucille said in a polite but stern tone. She
then took Mary by the wrist and began to lead her away from the
group as the women waved.

“Don’t mind, Bridget,” Lucille said into
Mary’s ear. “What she lacks in simple tact she makes up for it with
some of the best peanut butter cookies this side of the state.”

Mary turned back to glance at the women as
she was guided through the crowd, faces growing blurry and ominous
in their quick pace.

“Here,” Lucille said. “I want to introduce
you to some of the other ladies here.” They reached a group of
outside the crowd sitting at a bench under another canopy setup,
all older than the ones Mary had just been introduced too. They
sipped from bottled water and with fruit plates resting before them
displaying watermelon and strawberries. Their long, sleek, glittery
dresses looked the height of elegance. Their jewelry added to the
picture of prestige with golden necklaces, bracelets and earrings.
Mary glanced down at her own arms realizing that she forgot to wear
any jewelry at all. The small diamond on her wedding ring sparkled
in the sunlight, the only thing she had to show for herself.

The gray-haired woman, all but one who had
fashioned an orange tint over her perm, looked up at Mary as she
approached. They smiled as Lucille introduced her with
enthusiasm.

“Mary, these lovely ladies run the local
chapter of the Redwood Women’s Association.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Mary said, shaking their
hands one after the other. The generic name sounded prestigious
enough, but Mary could tell just by their posture and demeanor
alone that they fancied themselves as power players in their own
regard.

Sylvia, the woman introduced as the
president of the local chapter, looked up at Mary and spoke with a
low, scratchy voice.

“You and your husband are quite the word
around town,” a taller woman in the middle of the bench said,
pulling out a cigarette from a silver case.

“I suppose so,” Mary said. “I ran into
Pastor Phil just the other week, and he seemed to already know our
names.”

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