Hoaley Ill-Manored (4 page)

“Hey, Ads.”

Dirk’s familiar voice made Adam’s throat
tighten with sudden need. He’d fought that need for weeks, trying
to convince himself he didn’t need Dirk Williams to survive. Until
that moment he’d actually believed he was making progress.
“Hi.”

“It’s really good to hear your voice, babe.
I’ve missed you.”

Adam dropped onto the cot, fighting to keep
the angry tremor from his voice. “Really? I’m surprised.”

The short beat of silence told Adam Dirk
hadn’t been expecting his anger. He really didn’t understand why,
the last time they’d spoken they’d had a huge fight over the man
Dirk had been spending way too much time with in Los Angeles.

Franklin Spence was a Hollywood producer. He
was also openly gay. Dirk had been attending a lot of parties with
the man and, if the news clips Adam had seen were accurate,
weekends at Spence’s mountainside ranch and at a certain oceanside
hideaway in the Cayman Islands.

“What does that mean? I always miss
you.”

“Yeah. You told me that. Once. Is there
something you need, Dirk?” As soon as the words left his mouth Adam
cringed. He should never give his ex-lover an opening like that.
Because Dirk would invariably come back with something that would
wrench Adam’s heart right out of his chest.

“I need
you
, Ads.” And there it
was.

“I wish I could believe that. Unfortunately
I don’t. I told you I need a break from us, Dirk. I meant it.
Please don’t call me again.”

“Where are you?”

“That’s not important.” Adam disconnected
the call and threw his phone onto the cot, suddenly filled with
nervous energy. He knew a quiet walk around the property was
exactly what he
didn’t
need at that moment. More time to
think was a bad thing. “Change in plans, Walter. Let’s go into town
and see what kind of dinner we can scare up.”

DS

At eight o’clock sharp the next morning,
Edgar Reeves rolled down the gravel drive in his big old rusted
station wagon. He stopped in the circular driveway and climbed
slowly out of the car, pulling the old guy hat off his head as
Maddy approached.

“Good morning, Mr. Reeves.”

The old man offered her a hand. “Call me
Edgar, please. If I can call you Maddy.” His smile was uncertain
and shy.

Adam took Edgar’s hand when Maddy had
released it. “Adam. Please.”

Edgar nodded. “I hope you don’t mind my
coming out again. I find I can’t quite resist the urge to watch the
old place returned to glory.”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m glad you did. I
didn’t get any contact information from you yesterday and Maddy and
I have decided we’d really like your help on the project. You
remember what the manor used to look like and you could advise us
as we start renovations. We would of course pay you for your
time.”

Edgar shook his head. “I’d be happy to help
you good people. But I couldn’t possibly take any of your money for
it.”

Maddy touched his arm. “We insist.”

Edgar frowned. “My memories aren’t worth
that much.”

“I disagree, but our budget is tight so I
could only pay you a small amount. Along with meals of course,
while you’re on site. I buy donuts every morning and lunch every
day for my crew. We’d include you in that.”

Edgar grinned. “I will admit I wouldn’t mind
the occasional donut.”

Maddy wrapped her arm around his shoulders
and started him toward the pretty, white gazebo she and Adam had
just finished assembling beside the lake that morning. Walter ran
ahead of them, his tail happily sweeping the air. “It’s a deal
then. Now, Adam and I were hoping you knew something about the man
in the adjoining property, the one who owns the land with the slave
cabin?”

Edgar stopped, dropping his old guy hat over
his head. “Teddy Worth. I’ve known the family for years. His
grandmamma was a kind, god-fearing woman. She did her best to raise
that boy right after his daddy was gone.” Edgar shook his head.
“There’s a lot of anger there, though. It’s too bad. The boy just
can’t let go of the past.”

Adam touched Edgar’s arm and started him off
again. “Would that past have anything to do with the slave cabin?
We found fresh flowers there yesterday.”

“And a noose,” Maddy added, shuddering.

Edgar dragged a shaky hand over his face.
“Good heavens. That’s shocking. I feel badly to have set you on
that path now.”

She shook her head. “No, don’t. It was very
exciting and a little scary. I enjoyed it very much. I was just
curious about the flowers. That story you told us, about that man,
Jenks. That was a very long time ago. Do you suppose the noose and
the flowers were about that?”

“That’s doubtful. Though he was found in one
of their cabins, no one ever blamed Jenks’ death on the slaves. It
could be symbolic I guess. The boy…Teddy…is convinced that slavery
never really ended for his family. He grew up under his father’s
angry influence. It drove his daddy to drink copious amounts of
alcohol I’m afraid. Even Lolly Worth, his gramma, couldn’t offset
his father’s anger.” Edgar looked at them as they stopped beside
the gazebo. “You remember I mentioned the suicide that happened
here, in the manor?”

Maddy’s eyes grew wide. “Yes. Is that
related somehow?”

Walter was inside the gazebo when they
arrived, snuffling at the floor. He started scratching as if trying
to dig a hole through the wood.

“Walter! Stop that!” Adam shook his head.
“Moles. Walter’s been digging holes all around the lake trying to
get to them.”

Edgar inclined his head, one hand reaching
to skim a reverent touch over the whitewashed wood of the
structure. “Lovely. You must have seen the painting?”

“Painting? No. What painting?”

Edgar looked surprised. “The local museum
has a painting of Bilsworth Manor in the late 1800s. There was a
gazebo that looked much like this beside the lake then.” Looking
around, Edgar nodded. “In just about this exact spot. It’s strange
that you placed this little building in exactly the same spot
without knowing.”

Ice slipped through Adam’s
veins, lifting gooseflesh in its wake. Despite the bright heat of
the pounding sun, Adam suddenly felt as if an ominous shadow had
slipped over them. “That
is
strange. I admit it came to me out of nowhere. I
was standing beside the lake and realized a gazebo was exactly what
it needed.” He frowned and rubbed the raised skin on his
arms.

They stood in silence for a moment, watching
Mike and Sue cutting elegant circles in the glassy surface of the
lake. Finally, Maddy’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So, Edgar, you were telling us about the
suicide.”

The old man blinked and turned to her. “Yes.
I was, wasn’t I? It was strange, that death. A pretty, young girl
falls in love with a kind, young man and, if not for the ugly
prejudice of the world they lived in, they would have lived a story
book life together. Instead, they discover they can never be
together and one of them succumbs to the sadness and hopelessness
of it and kills himself.” Edgar walked over to the bench inside the
gazebo and lowered himself carefully to its surface. He sighed and
pulled his old guy hat off. Reaching into his pants pocket, he drew
out an ancient, cloth handkerchief to wipe his brow with.

“Can I assume, since the suicide happened in
the manor that it was one of the Bilsworth sons?”

“Yes. Delf Bilsworth. He fell in love with
pretty Lolly and wanted to marry her. You see, Lolly’s family had
worked for the Bilsworth’s for nearly a century and, despite the
fact that her grandmamma received that parcel of land from old Mr.
Bilsworth as a gift, they continued to work at the manor and were a
welcome presence here. Until Delf fell for Lolly and presumably
killed himself in the attic. After that, Elizabeth Bilsworth,
Delf’s mama, threw Lolly out and declared that none of Lolly’s
current or future family would be welcome in the manor again.”

Maddy frowned. “That seems harsh.”

“She was grieving, child. It was
understandable. Especially given the history between the two
families.”

“What history?” Adam remained outside the
gazebo, hoping the heat of the sun would eventually chase away the
cold which had moved in as Edgar told his story.

“In 1831, Old Matthew Bilsworth, the
original owner of the manor, gave Lolly’s great, great, great
gramma Biddy that parcel of land you kids visited yesterday. He
gave it to her as a gift when she turned up pregnant.”

“Ahh.” Adam suddenly understood. “She was
pregnant with his child, wasn’t she?”

“That was what everyone assumed, yes. When
he died, old Mr. Bilsworth’s will ensured the continued association
of the two families by tying his descendants’ inheritance to the
continued support and employment of the Worth family by the
manor.”

“Then how could Delf’s mother throw Lolly
and her family out of the manor?”

Edgar shrugged. “They were rich, well
respected members of the community. The Worth’s were poor, black,
and powerless. They really couldn’t fight it legally.”

“Which explains Teddy’s anger.”

“I’m afraid so, yes.” Edgar shook his head.
“Shortly after Lolly was thrown out of Bilsworth Manor, strange
things started happening here.”

“Like what?” Maddy dropped onto the bench
beside Edgar.

“Strange sounds in the attic. Random,
unexplained bursts of light at night. The spot on the floor beneath
where young Delf hung himself was covered in blood one morning.
There was so much blood it had seeped through the ceiling of the
floor below and ruined it. Stories of haunting surfaced. Many
believed poor Delf was coming back to avenge the mistreatment of
his lady love. But even ghost stories failed to explain the
physical damage being done to the manor.”

“Damage?”

“Yes. Walls were torn up when the family was
away. The basement floor was dug up. Several rafters in the attic
were destroyed, causing part of the roof to collapse. It was a
terrifying time for the family. So much so that everyone encouraged
Mrs. Bilsworth to invite Lolly back to the manor. But she
refused.”

“Did the damage only
occur
after
Delf’s death?” Adam asked.

“Funny you should ask that young man. “The
answer is no. Eventually the stories broke down into two
kinds…spiritual and physical. The general consensus was that the
physical damage was part of an ongoing problem with treasure
hunters.”

Maddy’s eyebrows shot into her bangs.
“Treasure hunters!”

“Yes, my dear. I told you that the jewels
the infamous Mr. Jenks stole before he died were never found. Many
locals believe they still exist. And that they’re hidden somewhere
inside Bilsworth Manor.”

Adam lay on his cot listening to the drone
and buzz of the night insects. Walter was across the room,
twitching on his bed. The big dog was in the midst of a dream that
seemed to include chasing and barking. Walter’s favorite thing in
all the world was to chase stuff. Though Adam had never seen him
actually catch anything.

The night was warm but not uncomfortably hot
like the past couple of nights. A front was moving in, blowing cool
air before it and providing blessed relief from the August heat.
Mosquitoes buzzed around the room but mostly didn’t bother him.
They seemed put off by his heavy layer of mosquito repellent. He
only wished he didn’t smell like a bug candle.

Pleasantly drowsy, Adam lay with his hands
clasped over his chest, his covers kicked to the side, and thought
of Dirk. The other man had done what Adam had asked. He hadn’t
called back to try to plead his side.

Adam told himself he was glad. The truth
was, though, he really wasn’t all that happy about it. Thinking
about Dirk was a depressing exercise, and it tightened his body
with unfulfilled sexual heat, so he pushed those thoughts away and
tried to blank out his mind. A few minutes later he was starting to
drowse, pleasantly sleepy, when a soft sound invaded his near sleep
state.

Scratch, scratch, scratch…

“Walter! Stop that.”

The big dog groaned and rolled over onto his
back, all four sticks straight in the air. Adam sighed and closed
his eyes again.

Scratch, scratch, scratch, whoomp!

Adam sat straight up, his heart pounding at
the sound of something heavy hitting the end of a rope. It had
appeared to come from just overhead. But there was nothing hanging
from the ceiling. There was only the soft flicker of the exterior
light dancing against the far wall, filtered through the leaves of
the tree outside his window.

A soft swishing noise made Adam look up. The
ceiling lamp in the center of the stained ceiling swayed gently.
Shadows danced around the light, looking like ghostly fingers
reaching across the yellowed plaster.

Adam took a deep breath and turned, finding
Walter sitting up, quietly staring at him.

“Sorry boy. I must have been dreaming.”

Adam lay back down, intending to go back to
sleep, but he was wide awake. He couldn’t relax. So he picked up
his iPad and started reading.

Scratch, scratch, scratch…

Adam waited for the terrifying sound that
had followed the previous set of scratches. He could explain the
scratching. Mice or bugs. Even Walter’s nails moving across the
floor as he dreamed. But that other sound…

He shuddered.

He glanced at Walter and the big dog was
staring toward the door, unmoving. “What is it, boy?”

Walter whined.

Scratch, scratch, scratch…

The wind howled past the window, setting the
branches of the enormous oak tree near the house into motion. Adam
could see them stark and skeletal against the light. Then the light
blinked out and the wind slammed something against the house.