Spooky Hijinks (19 page)

“I suppose you should move along, then,” Ed said. “And do what you girls do best—bring the criminals involved here to their knees.”

“Please don’t encourage them,” Sheriff Peterson said. “I’ll kindly ask you all to go on home. I’ll touch base with the ATF and let you know how the investigation is going, but until then, make sure you keep your doors locked, be on the lookout for anyone out of the ordinary, and report any suspicious activity to a 9-1-1 operator.”

“Have any of you noticed anyone who looks suspicious?” I asked.

Everyone shook their heads, and I frowned when I pulled out the slip of paper that Peterson had given me. It included all the names of the people here. Obviously, another dead end.

“Thanks, but I’m sure the sheriff will impress on the ATF just how important it is to this community that this case be solved, and soon. I have full confidence in Sheriff Peterson. It’s not his fault the feds showed up like they have, but hopefully, with a team effort, this case will be solved quickly.”

Sheriff Peterson nodded, and Eleanor and I took our leave, meeting Andrew and Mr. Wilson in the hallway.

“I love how you stuck up for the sheriff like that. It gives me hope that one day you’ll give up investigating crimes,” Andrew said,

How did that man hear from way out here in the hallway? That man had the hearing range of a bat. “Don’t press your luck, but I was hoping that the crowd wouldn’t start a riot here in the government building.”

Andrew handed both Eleanor and me a paper that had to be filled out. And when Eleanor read hers, she went ballistic. “Mr. Wilson. You didn’t fill out your part of this form yet.”

“I will, woman, after you do.”

“You first.”

“No, you first,” Mr. Wilson insisted, tossing the paper at her.

“Are you kidding me here, Mr. Wilson?” I said. “Just tell us your first name already. This is really putting a black mark on this marriage thing.” I looked over to an enraged Eleanor, who now was swiping her hands against her eyes, trying, unsuccessfully, to stop the tears from falling. “Can’t you see you’re making Eleanor upset?”

Mr. Wilson snatched the form from Andrew, who had retrieved it from the floor and handed it to him. Taking a pen, he walked over to a table and filled out his part of the form. He then took it back to an astonished Eleanor, handing it back to her.

Eleanor looked at it and wailed, “I can’t even read this!”

“It’s not my fault. My hands are shaky.”

“You do know that the woman at the counter needs to be able to read it, don’t you, Wilson? If she can’t and she types out the wrong name on the form, our marriage won’t be legal.”

“We’ll see about that. Fill out your part of the form, Eleanor, and I’ll take it up there. If she says she can’t read what I jotted down, I’ll shout it out on the top of my lungs.”

Eleanor quickly filled out the form, and they went to the window first. After they handed their identification to the clerk, she stared at it for a few minutes and said, “I can’t read this, and the first name on your driver’s license is scratched off.”

I smirked. Just to what lengths would Mr. Wilson go to conceal his first name? “Fine!” He turned to face Andrew and me and ten more people who were in the waiting room. “My first name is spelled M-o-r-t-i-m-e-r, which spells Mortimer, everyone. My first name is Mortimer,” he bellowed in his screechy voice. “Laugh it up. I was named after my grandfather, Mortimer Frances Wilson.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that name,” Eleanor said quietly. “It’s a fine first name.”

He turned back to the woman at the counter, who smiled when she handed their identification back to them. When they left the counter, Andrew and I went to the window and filed our paperwork, too. When we walked outside to our cars, Mr. Wilson was near tears. “I just hate that name. I was made fun of so much when I was a kid that I swore I’d never tell anyone my first name again.”

“Morty is short for Mortimer,” Eleanor suggested.

“Please, don’t ever call me any version of Mortimer. I’m Mr. Wilson, and that’s the name that will be on my gravestone.”

“Of course, dear. Whatever you want, but I still think that it’s a fine first name. I’ll honor your request, including at the wedding if that would make you happy.”

“It would.”

We gave the men quick pecks on the cheeks, and Eleanor and I went back to the Cadillac and returned to the Butler Mansion.

“We’re not doing any more investigating today, Agnes?”

“Aren’t you even a little curious how the ghost hunting is going back at the mansion?”

“I suppose so. What do you think of Mr. Wilson’s first name?”

“I can see why he didn’t want anyone to know, but it’s not the worst name I’ve ever heard before. How do you really feel about him not wanting to use his first name at the wedding?”

“Well, I’ve been calling him Mr. Wilson ever since I met him, so it’s just fine with me. I have a feeling that the wedding would never go on otherwise. Have you written your wedding vows yet, Agnes?”

“No, I haven’t. I just don’t get the whole writing your vows thing. What’s wrong with an old-fashioned ceremony, where the pastor asks you for your I do’s?”

“Why all the fuss, Agnes? I’m sure that you’ll come up with something great to say. I have a few things I have jotted down, but I haven’t gotten too far yet. How does ‘you had me at tuna casserole’ sound?”

My head about hit the steering wheel as I came to a stop. “I’d expect no less from you, Eleanor.”

              
Chapter Sixteen

We clambered out of the car and soon were walking into the mansion, nearly tripping on the cords to the equipment that the ghost hunters had set up. It was so silent that I wondered where everyone was.

I waltzed into the dining room, where Sara, Millicent, Troy, and Nate were seated around the table looking mopey.

“Why the long faces?” I asked.

“I just don’t get it,” Troy said. “We recorded voices the last time we were here, but now, nothing.”

“Not even a thermal reading,” Nate said. “Nothing.”

“Perhaps you should wait until later. The ghosts are more active at night,” I suggested.

“She’s right,” Millicent said. “They usually are stomping around upstairs all night long.”

“We’ve been up in the attic already, and if there was something up there, believe me, we would have detected it,” Troy insisted.

“So that’s it? You’re giving up?”

“No, I just don’t think this place is haunted. Without some evidence, we’ll be up the creek. Our investor only pays us if we find some kind of paranormal evidence.”

“Why not make it up like some of those other guys do?” Eleanor asked.

“Because I have morals and ethics,” Troy said.

“I see. But what did you plan to do if you found evidence?”

“Broadcast what we found on an Internet show. If we find something this time, we might even be given a spot on a cable network.”

“Wait a little longer is all I say. I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for, but were you planning to broadcast the location of the bed and breakfast?”

“Not exactly,” Sara said. “There’s already enough rumors to keep this place booked up, and that was before the ghost hunters showed up.”

“So if you didn’t call G.A.S.P. here, who did?”

“A few guests called us. They never gave me their names.”

“Oh, so their names weren’t Trudy and Shane?” I asked, knowing full well they were the ones who most likely called.

“Fine, their names do ring a bell, but they don’t want to be mentioned. Actual evidence would help out the entire Tawas area, though,” Troy suggested.

Sara’s face lit up. “Besides, a little extra publicity might help bring some big Hollywood names here, like Clooney or Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt.”

“Wishful thinking, aren’t you?”

“No. When I told some friends about the mansion here, believe me, there was interest. Who knows, a movie might even be shot here.”

“While that sure would help the economy in Iosco County, I highly doubt that since Governor Snyder ended the tax credit for companies making movies in Michigan.”

“That’s where I don’t agree with you. I have friends who would definitely shoot a horror flick here, at the very least.”

I had visions of a Jason Voorhees running around in the woods of Tawas City, and while it did bring a slight smile to my face, it was not enough to want to see it happen. But was it really my place to crush Sara’s dreams? She’d always been so kind to Eleanor and me. And now Millicent had the job of running the place, since Eleanor and I only took on a minimal role here at the haunted mansion.

I yawned. “I think we’ll head upstairs. We have more investigating to do in the morning.”

“You still have time tonight,” Millicent said.

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“Oh, not at all. I-I just meant that—”

“I got the point loud and clear. Come along, Eleanor. We have things to do,
upstairs
.”

“Why do I have to go? I don’t want to traipse all the way upstairs and then back down again.”

I gave Eleanor one of my famous looks that meant I wasn’t about to allow her to not accompany me upstairs. She, of course, had no idea what I had up my sleeve. I didn’t have to ask again because Eleanor threw up her arms and exclaimed, “You don’t have to nag me. I’m coming.”

Eleanor followed me into the main hallway and up the long staircase. When we were up at the top, I began to whisper. “Caroline, where are you?”

Eleanor giggled. “I told you she never shows up when we need her the most.”

I waltzed down to the end of the hallway and up the stairs that led to the attic. Once we were in the attic, I again said, although a little louder, “Caroline, where are you!”

Nothing. Complete silence.

When I walked over to the window, I noticed that the picture frame of the Butler descendants was missing! “Look, Eleanor. The picture frame is missing. See, you can see a spot where it was taken down recently.”

“That is odd, but who would take it?”

“I’m not sure. Those ghosts don’t allow anyone to come near them nor to disturb the attic. They must have known whoever took the picture frame.”

“What if the other ghosts took it?” Eleanor said. “You did tell them to behave, and that’s probably the reason the ghosts in the attic weren’t seen or recorded, because someone prevented them by taking them out of here.”

“How will we know, though, since Caroline won’t come when I call her?”

“How about that room at the end of the hallway? You know, the one that has an entrance to a secret passageway?”

“I had forgotten all about that one. Good idea, Eleanor. The ghosts might be hiding in the passageway to remain undetected, but do you think it’s a good idea for them to make a grand appearance?”

“I guess we’ll have to let them. You saw how disappointed they all were downstairs.”

“I suppose, but I’m just not so sure—”

“Don’t be silly. What could go wrong?”

Eleanor went down the stairs first, and I followed all the way down the burgundy carpet, into the last room on the right. The room had all Queen Anne antique furniture, and this room was almost never booked. In many ways, it had ties to Caroline’s past. She had lived here while she was alive, until that fateful day that she decided to leave in the middle of the night after she had found out Malcolm was cheating on her. Of course, he never let her leave town, instead running her over in East Tawas and killing her. He might have been distraught, but he was never brought to justice, and he committed suicide some years later. It’s no wonder that he was stuck here in the house. Too many sad spirits in the mansion for my liking.

I opened up the closet, leaning inside and feeling around until it moved rather fast sideways. Luckily, I had moved out of the way just in time to keep from being knocked unconscious. Eleanor and I pulled out our iPhones and powered on our flashlights. I yanked a pillowcase off a pillow and buried my hand inside of it, intent on using it to remove the cobwebs that blanketed the entranceway. I just hated the feel of cobwebs touching me.

I removed enough cobwebs for us to enter, and Eleanor asked, “Which way should we go?”

“Well, straight down takes us to the cemetery, remember?”

“You don’t think they actually left the house, do you?”

“I’m really not sure. You don’t expect me to know, do you?”

Eleanor sighed. “I suppose not.”

Eleanor grabbed my arm as we went straight, all the way calling out Caroline’s name. We carefully descended the steps, and I gulped as they creaked under our weight.

“It’s cold in here,” Eleanor said.

“Not any worse than outside. I think that’s why it’s getting so cold. We’re close to the cemetery outside.”

Sure enough, a big, red door was partly opened, and Eleanor and I pushed it open a bit more, just enough to slip through. “Don’t forget to keep that door open,” I said. “I sure don’t want to trudge through the snow all the way back to the mansion.”

The cemetery was nearly dark now, but there was an eerie glow through the trees. I walked in that direction, with Eleanor nearly hooked to my hip. “Would you mind, Eleanor? You’re going to trip me up.”

Eleanor moved away a bit. “Sorry, but I just didn’t want to lose you in the darkness.”

“I think the ghosts might be over there,” I said.

“Or someone else, like the gun thieves.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m sure no gun thief would be hiding evidence in a graveyard.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we came up on someone here.”

I bravely walked through a pathway, and the three ghosts, Erwin, Ada, and Lydia were hovering around a large tombstone. I read the name Clarence Butler on it, and I noticed that it had strange markings.

“What are those scribbles on the stone?” Eleanor asked.

“It’s a spell,” Ada said. “So that his spirit won’t be released from the grave after his death.”

“You make that sound like he knew that it was possible for his spirit to stay behind,” I said.

“Perhaps he did. There was talk that this property must be cursed because of the amount of family members to die in strange accidents,” Caroline, who appeared behind me, said. “But what they fail to realize is that many of the Butler family simply made bad decisions, like Malcolm murdering me.”