Cedar Hollow (11 page)

“
Oh that would be wonderful! There really is so much to do. I can’t believe Labor Day weekend is already here.” Mrs. Owens exclaimed, happily lifting the stack of linens and passing them off to Cassidy. “Here is the master key for the other rooms in your hall.” She told her placing an old iron key on top of the stack of blankets in her arms.

“Why do all the rooms lock from the outside?” Cassidy asked. It had been bothering her since she’d arrived.

“It’s an old house. Those were originally the children’s rooms and that’s just the way they did things back then.” Mrs. Owens shrugged. “I’m going to start uncovering the parlor, if you need anything that’s where you’ll find me.” She smiled happily then disappeared into an adjoining room.

Cassidy made her way upstairs carrying the fresh linens. As she passed beneath the staircase that led to the third floor she felt a chill. She decided there definitely must be some sort of draft coming from upstairs.

Her room was the first on the left, beyond that there was another door on the left wall and a third door on the opposite side of the hall. She approached the second door on the left and fumbled with the key trying to unlock the door while balancing the stack of linens in her arms. Finally she managed to unlock the door and push it open. The room was dark and musty.

She walked inside setting the stack of
linens on the bed then crossed to the window to pull open the curtains. Light flooded the room and dust motes swirled in the air. Cassidy unlatched the window and pushed it open allowing the fresh ocean breeze to blow in. The view was similar to the one from her room, a beautiful landscape of the seaside.

She turned to face the room. The motif was comparable to hers, w
hite-washed wood and navy blue accents. This room had a large antique armoire instead of a desk and there was also a built-in shelving unit displaying several glass bottles containing intricate model ships. Otherwise the two rooms were nearly identical. Cassidy set about her task, stripping the bed and changing the sheets. She fluffed the pillows and shook out the comforter humming to herself as she worked.

Once the bed had been made and the room dusted Cassidy gathered up the remaining linens and crossed the hall to the opposite room. She unlocked and entered the room fully expecting another replica of the first two rooms. She was startled to find that this room had a distinctly fe
minine décor. The bed spread had a floral design and the paneled walls were painted a soft rose color. The window was not draped with heavy curtains like the other two rooms but instead had a filmy lace cover, yellowed with age. There was a dressing table with attached mirror in the corner.

As Cassidy finished her chore she began to wonder whose room this had once been. Before the house was converted to a bed and breakfast
this had simply been her family’s home. Her grandfather had been raised in this house. She wondered which room had been his. Was he the one who had built the ships in a bottle? Or did the room she was staying in now once belong to him. Cassidy felt an overwhelming need to learn more about the history of her relatives.

She hadn’t even realized she’d left the bedrooms until she found herself standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to the third floor. She looked up into the gloom and shivered. She rubbed her arms vigorously trying to chase away the goosebumps
. It wasn’t even cold in the hall.

Slowly placing one foot in front of the other she climbed the stairs. She came to a stop when she found a closed door at the top of the staircase. For a moment she had second thoughts, but she felt drawn to whatever lay beyond this threshold. She turned the handle
and the door swung open.

The attic room smelled dank and musty. Cassidy could barely see in the nearly pitch black. She shuffled inside, walking slowly with her arms extended so that she didn’t run into anything. She felt along the wall, guiding herself to the first large window that was shrouded by heavy drapes. She pulled the curtains and light filtered in through the dingy window.

Cassidy looked out the window and saw the driveway beneath, this was not the window that looked over the backya
rd, not the window where she had seen the movement. She turned to face the room allowing her eyes to adjust to the murky interior. Even with the window open the light was dim as it filtered through the grime that layered the glass.

The small room was crowded with boxes and old furniture lining the walls
; everything was coated with a heavy layer of dust. As Cassidy’s eyes adjusted to the dark room she realized that it was much smaller than it should be. The window she stood beside was the only visible window on any of the four walls, but Cassidy knew that there was a third floor window overlooking the backyard. She stood with her back to the window and oriented herself in the room, imagining the shape of the house and facing the direction of the backyard. She was staring directly at a solid wall.

She crossed the room to the wall and began walking the length of it,
running her hand along the surface. About half way across she felt a small seam. She leaned down to look closer, straining her eyes in the gloom and running her finger along the crack in the wall. It ran from the floor to the ceiling, beyond Cassidy’s reach. She examined the wall closely and found a small key hole. It was a door. She reached into her pocket producing the old iron key that Mrs. Owens had given her. She slid it into the lock and turned. The invisible door swung open on silent hinges.

The hidden room was dark. Cassidy stepped inside and reached for the wall to guide herself again. This time she felt a light switch. She flipped it on and suddenly the room was illuminated from an overhead bulb. Cassidy stared in shock.

It was a sparsely furnished bedroom, and it was spotless. The wooden floors were swept clean and polished, there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. There was a brass bed in the corner made up with an old patchwork quilt. An old wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed and a small dresser occupied the opposite wall. The nightstand next to the bed held a bible and a small lamp. A pair of reading glasses rested on the bible. A rocking chair was placed in front of the large window that was shrouded by heavy curtains. Most shocking of all, the walls were covered in crosses.

Large ornate wooden crosses, small metal
crosses, every spare inch of wall space was covered by crosses of every shape and size. Cassidy crossed to the window, pulled the curtains, and looked down over the backyard. This was the window where she had seen the movement. This was the room someone had been watching from.

Sh
e walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. It held men’s clothing and smelled of moth balls. She turned back toward the old bed wondering whose room this was, or had been. It seemed preserved. It held the feeling of a museum, a monument. She walked over and knelt in front of the old wooden chest. She lifted the lid slowly, the wood felt brittle as if it might crumble beneath her fingers. Inside the chest were dozens of stacks of letters tied together in bundles. She reached for a stack and read the address on the yellowed envelope. It was addressed to Mr. Robert Miller, her great-uncle. The return address was for Mr. Curtis Miller, her grandfather. Cassidy’s heart began pounding in her ears as she realized she may have discovered an important link to her past.

She grabbed another stack of
letters, these were correspondence between Curtis Miller and Elizabeth Greene, her grandparents. Cassidy felt an overwhelming excitement at this veritable treasure chest that she’d found. Most of the letters in the chest were bundled, tied together with string, but there was one solitary letter among them. Cassidy reached for it and was surprised to find that it was addressed to her mother, Kimberly Miller. The return address was for Elaine Greene, the name was not familiar but Cassidy added it to the collection on the floor.

As she leaned back over the chest Cassidy heard a creaking sound coming from the staircase
below. Someone was coming. Cassidy immediately felt an urgency to hide. For some reason she knew she should not be caught in this room. She hurriedly scooped up the letters and carefully closed the lid. She quickly tiptoed across the bedroom turning off the light and slipping back into the dusty attic room, silently closing the hidden door behind her. The curtains were still drawn allowing a dim light to filter in through the dust. Cassidy stashed the letters she’d found in the waistband of her pants, beneath her shirt. She could hear the approaching footsteps. There was no time to hide. She made a split decision and walked hastily to the attic door opening it wide and stepping out onto the staircase.

“What are you doing up here?” Mrs. Owens looked up at Cassidy from a few steps below. Her eyes were wide with shock, almost fear.

“I was just curious what was up here.” Cassidy replied cheerfully, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. “Just a dusty old attic, not as interesting as I thought it might be.” She laughed. Mrs. Owens eyes narrowed. Cassidy continued to smile innocently.

“I finished with the bedrooms.” Cassidy added when Mrs. Owens didn’t speak. “Is there anything else I can h
elp with?” She offered.

“
The dining room still needs to be opened downstairs.” Mrs. Owens finally spoke. “I was just coming up to retrieve the good silver.”

“Can I help?” Cassidy smiled.

“Thank you, dear, that would be nice.” Mrs. Owens smiled back. She finished ascending the stairs and Cassidy stepped back to allow her to enter the attic. Mrs. Owens walked straight to an old curio cabinet close to the door and opened the top drawer, she removed a large flat box and handed it to Cassidy. Then turned and left the attic as Cassidy followed.

They descended the two flights of stairs in silence. Cassidy could fe
el her pulse racing. Once they reached the first floor she noticed that the once mysterious room to the left of the stairs was now open and brightly lit. The curtains were drawn on the large windows allowing bright sunlight to fill the room. The furniture was no longer covered in drop clothes. Cassidy could see that it was a beautiful sitting room with a grand piano in the corner and bookshelves lining the walls.  Antique couches, settees and wingback chairs were placed throughout the room.

Mrs. Owens led Cass
idy to the dark room on the right of the foyer. She flipped a light switch on the wall and an old crystal chandelier came to life pouring light over the shadowy room. The furniture in this room was still draped with heavy cloths. Mrs. Owens walked to the large centerpiece and removed the drop cloth with a flourish, revealing a beautiful heavy oak dining room table beneath. Cassidy placed the flat box she’d been carrying on the table as Mrs. Owens circled the room pulling all of the curtains. It was amazing the difference lighting could make. This once creepy dark space was transformed into an elegant dining room right before Cassidy’s eyes.

“Have you ever polished silver, dear?” Mrs. Owens asked pleasantly as she continued to remove the heavy drapes covering the remaining furniture in the room.

“No, Ma’am.” Cassidy admitted.

“That’s ok.” Mrs. Owens assured her. “It’s quite easy.”

Mrs. Owens joined her at the table and showed Cassidy how to polish the silver utensils that were in the flat box she’d carried down from the attic. Once she was comfortable with her task Mrs. Owens excused herself to fix some lunch leaving her alone in the dining room.

As Cassidy went about her chore her mind raced with her discoveries from this morning. She believed the hidden attic room belonged to her late great-uncle. But
why had it been kept so well preserved? It was almost like a shrine.

Cassidy thought of the letters still tucked away secretly beneath her shirt.
She couldn’t wait until she could steal away to her room and look through them. She wondered if they would shed some light on the mysteries of the past, and possibly the mysteries of the present.

She wondered if Ben knew about the secret attic room. He’d lived in this house for years, obviously if that had been her uncle’s room he would know about it. She wondered if she should ask him.

Cassidy was so lost in thought she didn’t even hear anyone approaching until a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at her shoulder expecting the plump hand of Mrs. Owens, but instead she saw long bony white fingers gripping her.

She spun around out of her chai
r and looked straight into vacant black eyes in a sunken pale face. The ghostly apparition reached for her again.

“Help me.” He whispered, grasping ahold of her shirt with his skeleton like hand.
The last thing she heard before the room went black was the sound of her own scream.

Cassidy was aware of something cool and wet being pressed against her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up into the concerned face of Mrs. Owens.

“Well there you are.” Mrs. Owens smiled kindly down at her. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” Mrs. Owens stood from her crouching position and reached her hand down to Cassidy.

“Wake up?” Cassidy asked, confused. She accepted Mrs. Owens hand and allowed her to help her to her feet. She felt a little dizzy but otherwise ok.

“You fainted, dear. Can’t say I’ve ever actually seen somebody faint from fright, but you did have quite a scare. I must
apologize, Mr. Owens hasn’t wandered the house like that in years.” Mrs. Owens explained calmly as she brushed her hands on her apron.

“Mr. Owens?”

“Yes, dear. I’m afraid Mr. Owens hasn’t been in his right mind for some years now. Ben thinks I should put him in a home, but
this
is his home, and he really isn’t a bother. Well not usually. Mostly he’s content to sit at his window all day. As I’ve said, it’s been years since he’s wandered downstairs like that. But I am sorry that he frightened you so. Ben is always concerned that he will do that when there are guests in the house. We don’t really have to mention this little episode to him, do we?” She looked at Cassidy pleadingly.

“I don’t see why we would need to.” Cassidy agreed, finally getting her wits about her and realizing what had happened. She had only assumed Mr. Owens had passed away, no one had ever actually told her that. Suddenly Cassidy realized that the room upstairs might belong to him. Perhaps that was why Mrs. Owens seemed so protective over the attic.

“You’re such a dear.” Mrs. Owens smiled with relief. “Are you ready for lunch? I was just coming to let you know it was ready when I heard you scream.”

Cassidy blushed with embarrassment, she couldn’t believe she’d actually screamed and fainted.

“Lunch sounds great.” She agreed and followed Mrs. Owens into the kitchen.

After lunch Cassidy finished polishing the silver and then finally made her way up to her room to stash the letters that she’d found earlier in the day. She placed the two bundles in the top drawer of her dresser and then looked again at the only solitary letter that she’d found in the trunk. It was addressed to her mother, sent from Elaine Greene. Curiosity overwhelming her, she opened the letter and sat on the bed.

Dear Kimmy,

Grandmother sent word that you and Billy married this past summer and that you are now expecting your first child. I am so happy for you! My heart aches that I cannot be there with you to share your joy. I am glad that you found all the happiness that you were seeking by returning to Cedar Hollow, but I beg you to leave. Take your family and start a life somewhere new, just as our parents had once done.

I r
emember the night I heard Mama begging Daddy not to bring our family back to Cedar Hollow, if only he had listened how different all our lives could have been. Please, Kim, don’t stay. It’s not safe! Please if you listen to nothing else I say, listen to this! I love you but this is the only letter I will send. Please destroy it after you read it. I do not wish to be found. Give my love to Billy and please heed my advice. Leave Cedar Hollow.

With all my love,

Y
our sister,

Lainey

Cassidy gingerly refolded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. Her mind raced with the words she’d just read
, with what she’d just learned. Elaine Greene was her aunt, Janet Elaine Miller, she must have changed her last name to Greene when she went to live with her grandmother after her parents died.

She’d also learned that her aunt had bee
n very fearful about her mother returning to Cedar Hollow. She obviously suspected foul play in their parent’s deaths. Perhaps that’s even why she’d changed her name. She had requested that the letter be destroyed, but obviously that hadn’t happened. Why? Cassidy turned the envelope over in her hands to look at the postmark date. January 1982, only 3 months before Cassidy had been born. Her mother had been pregnant with her when she’d received this letter.