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Haunted House Murder Page 9


  “What the hell,” exclaimed Barney, ducking behind the squad car and talking into the personal radio fastened on his shoulder. “Shots fired,” he reported, as Lucy and Sally quickly shepherded the children to safety behind the school. Lucy was ordered to stay with them while Sally ran back to join Barney, staying low and with her gun drawn.

  It seemed to take forever before Lucy could hear the wail of sirens, signaling that reinforcements were on the way. She knew that the Tinker’s Cove police department only had a couple of cruisers, so she assumed mutual aid had been called in from neighboring towns, and probably the state police, too.

  Desperate to know what was happening, Lucy peeked around the corner of the school building. First on the scene was the K-9 unit, Scratch, and his handler, Officer Todd Kirwan. Todd consulted briefly with his cousin, Sally, apparently discussing whether it was safe for the dog to approach the house. No additional shots had been fired, so after a few minutes the dog was allowed to sniff Patrick’s sweatshirt, and ran right up to the front door.

  “What’s going on?” asked Jackson, tugging on her sleeve.

  “They sent the dog, he went on the porch,” reported Lucy, as Todd whistled and Scratch obediently turned around and returned to safety behind the K-9 unit’s SUV.

  “Is Scratch okay?” asked Lily. “He was at the school, for a special assembly, and I got to pet him.”

  “He’s okay,” said Lucy, who was struck with the surreal aspect of the situation, which seemed to be spinning out of control as the arriving squad cars began to fill the street. Or maybe, she thought, as another volley of shots rang out, maybe it really was a hostage situation, and her Patrick was the hostage. A SWAT team, dressed in black, was taking up positions, holding big black shields in front of themselves. Lucy watched in horror as a couple of snipers with long-range weapons positioned themselves, ensuring they had clear shots at the house.

  Then there was the cackle of a loudspeaker and a voice announced, “This is the police. Come out with your hands up.”

  Nothing happened; the front door remained closed. A burst of light, as if from a strobe, illuminated the tower, and an unearthly scream was heard.

  “You are surrounded.”

  Lucy noticed a tightening of ranks among the SWAT team, and the snipers raised their weapons, ready to shoot.

  “Come out with your hands up.”

  Something crashed inside the house, followed by an explosion.

  “This is not a drill.”

  Now the flashing lights were quicker, and a drumbeat could be heard. What was going on in there? wondered Lucy.

  “We are initiating extraction. Any resistance will be met with force.”

  The SWAT team began advancing in formation behind their shields.

  “I’m scared,” moaned Lily, collapsing on the ground and curling up in a ball.

  “Me, too,” admitted Jared, who looked as if he was going to faint, or vomit.

  “It will be all right,” said Lucy, wishing she believed her reassuring words. How was she ever going to explain this to Molly? How did she let this happen? Why didn’t she keep better track of Patrick?

  The SWAT team had reached the porch steps when the front door opened and Ty Moon stood there, in a T-shirt, arms above his head. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking puzzled.

  “Step forward,” ordered the voice on the microphone.

  Ty obeyed and was immediately tackled, thrown to the ground facedown with his hands cuffed behind his back.

  “Who else is inside? Any guns? Bombs?” demanded one of the SWAT officers.

  Ty shook his head. Behind him, in the doorway, stood Heather and Patrick. As soon as she saw them, Lucy started running across the school lawn to the street, where she was stopped by Barney. “Hold on, Lucy. We’ve got this under control.”

  “Wow, this is cool,” she heard Patrick exclaiming, as he took in the scene outside the house. “Is this part of the movie?”

  “No, Patrick,” said Heather, who was holding him by the hand. “This is what grown-ups call a cock-up.”

  Meanwhile, the SWAT team rushed past them into the house, where they began a systematic search. Ty remained facedown on the porch. Patrick was handed over to Lucy, and Heather asked for a chair. “I’m not well,” she said, in a thready voice. “I’m getting chemo for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.”

  She was sitting on the porch steps, wrapped in a blanket, when the SWAT team returned from searching the house. “No guns, no explosives, lots of computer equipment,” reported the leader.

  “I’m creating special effects for a movie,” said Ty, raising his head. “That’s what I do. I’m an FX designer.”

  “Oh,” said Lucy, somewhat embarrassed. “I guess that explains everything,” she added, giving Patrick a big hug.

  “I’m going to need a statement,” said Barney, releasing Ty from his handcuffs and helping him get to his feet. “Let’s go inside, where it’s warm.”

  Then, almost as quickly as they arrived, the dozens of squad cars and scores of officers disappeared, driving off into the night. The kids were collected by their parents, and the little crowd of neighbors who had gathered at a safe distance also went on home. Lucy went inside the Moon house, along with Officer Sally and Barney, where they all gathered around the Moons’ artfully distressed refectory-style table in their shabby, not-yet-renovated, dining room.

  “Let’s begin at the beginning,” said Barney, activating the video app on his cell phone.

  “This kid knocked on the door,” began Ty.

  “Who answered?”

  “It was me,” said Heather. “Ty was working at the console, there.” She pointed at a large piece of electronic equipment that occupied most of the dining room.

  “I asked what he was doing,” said Patrick, “and he invited me to come and see.”

  “Patrick! What were you thinking? You know better than that, to go into a stranger’s house,” protested Lucy.

  “I know, Grandma. But it looked so interesting, like the stuff in the lab where Dad takes me sometimes, only this isn’t for counting fish, it’s for making movies, right?”

  “So that explains all the screams and wails and lights going on and off?” asked Lucy.

  “The lightning, too,” said Ty. “I do that in the tower. It’s perfect for this movie. But I guess I didn’t realize that people would wonder what was going on.”

  “You can say that again,” said Officer Sally, giving Lucy a look. “Some people were quite worried about your wife’s condition; they suspected there was some sort of abuse going on.”

  “It’s abuse, all right,” said Heather, with a wan smile. “Chemo is terrible. The doctors tell me I’ve got a good chance of a complete recovery, but it’s going to take some time.”

  “Do you want to see what all the excitement’s been about,” invited Ty, with a nod toward the big computer console. “I can show you part of the movie.”

  So they all trooped into the living room and gathered behind Ty, who was seated at the keyboard. “First I’ll show you the scene as it was filmed,” he said, running a clip picturing a group of attractive teens entering a derelict, deserted house. For no reason at all, it seemed, they were terribly frightened, screaming, and hugging each other. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Kind of confusing,” said Sally. “Why are they so frightened?”

  “All will be explained when I add the special effects,” said Ty, running the scene again.

  This time, there was spooky music as the kids approached the house, a bolt of lightning split the sky, making them jump. The music intensified as they entered the cobwebby hallway, and an ear-splitting scream was heard, making them scream in fright and hug each other.

  “That’s some difference,” said Barney, scratching his chin. “So this is what you’ve been doing all this time.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t realize it was noticeable outside the house. And I’ve been under a lot of deadline pressure. I’ve been so focused on this
project, and Heather’s illness, that I guess I haven’t been very friendly. No wonder people have been giving me weird looks.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Heather. “We’ve been so wrapped up in our problems that we haven’t been very good neighbors.”

  “Well, now that everybody knows what’s going on, I think you can expect a lot of support from the community,” said Lucy, pulling Patrick close to her and hugging his shoulders.

  “We’d better get you home,” she told him. “There’s going to be a surprise for you.”

  “A good surprise?” asked Patrick, sounding rather worried.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” said Lucy. “Otherwise it won’t be a surprise.”

  Patrick was on tenterhooks for the ride home, and all through dinner and bath, stories and bedtime snack. “What’s the surprise?” he kept asking. “Is there really a surprise or are you teasing me?”

  “Be patient, Patrick. There’s really a surprise,” Lucy reassured him, spotting headlights pulling into the driveway.

  “In fact, I think the surprise has arrived,” said Bill, opening the kitchen door.

  Lucy and Patrick joined him there, watching as the car door opened and Molly stepped out.

  “Mom!” screamed Patrick, flying down the porch steps and into his mother’s arms.

  “Careful, careful,” she said, holding out her bandaged hand. “My goodness, I think you’ve grown while you’ve been here.” She wrapped her good arm around him and together they walked into the house. “So, Patrick, tell me all about what you’ve been doing. Anything interesting?”

  Lucy and Bill waited nervously for his answer. Knowing Molly, they didn’t think she would appreciate the fact that her child had been the focus of a police action.

  “Yeah, Mom. I’m going to be a werewolf for Halloween.”

  Together, Bill and Lucy let out big sighs of relief. Tomorrow there would be time to fill Molly in on the whole story, before she read about it in the Pennysaver. But for now, there was a little boy to tuck into bed.

  DEATH BY HAUNTED HOUSE

  Lee Hollis

  Chapter One

  October 29, 2009

  Hayley Powell loved everything about Halloween. It was her favorite holiday, except for the fact that it wasn’t officially a national holiday, so she had to still work. She was the office manager at the Island Times newspaper in Bar Harbor, Maine. Hayley had been lucky to get the job. Her husband, Danny, was out of work again, and taking his time finding a new gig that he deemed “the right fit.” So at least she had a steady paycheck coming in to cover the household bills. She had tried pressuring Danny to look for something part-time that would bring in some extra income while he searched for something more permanent. With an aggravated sigh, Danny had recently been hired at the Big Apple convenience store as a cashier for the graveyard shift. He grumbled and complained about the horrible hours, but he knew his family needed the cash, so he shuffled out the door every night at 10 PM and tried to keep his whining to a minimum.

  The only upside in Danny’s mind was that he was at home during the day when the kids got home from school, which allowed him to hang out with them, watching TV or playing video games, or teaching their new puppy, Leroy, how to fetch a ball. Hayley had gently suggested he help them with their homework too, but he just sort of chuckled at the idea, and quickly moved on. Danny had never been a good student, so he felt if he tried to guide them in their assignments, their grades might actually suffer. Hayley finally accepted this logic and stopped hounding him.

  Danny was especially excited as they barreled toward October 31 on the calendar because he could help the kids carve pumpkins and find the perfect Halloween costume. He loved Halloween just as much as Hayley did and she knew at the end of the day that she had married a big kid at heart.

  Danny had been calling Hayley at the office several times a day, once to ask where she kept the scissors to adjust Dustin’s Jack Sparrow outfit. Then, just a few minutes later, he called from a yard sale to excitedly inform Hayley that he had found the perfect blond wig for her Marilyn Monroe costume. Later, when Hayley was on the phone with a local restaurant owner trying to place an ad for his business, Danny blew into the office with an armful of pumpkins, hoping she would sign off on the two best ones he could use to carve into Batman and Harry Potter, Dustin and Gemma’s traditional choices for what kind of pumpkins they wanted lit up on the front porch. When Danny wasn’t working, he seemed to forget that there were other people in the world, including his wife, who actually had jobs to do.

  At four minutes to five, Hayley’s quitting time, her phone rang and she scooped up the receiver as she reached under her desk to grab her bag. “Island Times, this is Hayley speaking.”

  “You are never going to guess where I am,” Danny said breathlessly.

  “Danny, I’m really trying to get out of here. Can’t this wait until we both get home?”

  He didn’t seem interested in answering her question. “Al Foley’s house.”

  Al Foley was one of Danny’s buddies from high school. They used to get into a lot of trouble together, which included a two-week suspension after releasing a live skunk into the chemistry lab of the teacher who failed both of them their junior year.

  “Well, say hello for me. I’m heading home now.”

  “Wait! You have to hear this! You know Al is a Blue Knight, right?”

  The Blue Knights was an international motorcycle club for law enforcement officers.

  Hayley sighed. There was no way she was going to get out of this conversation. “No, I didn’t. I thought you had to be a police officer to be in the Blue Knights.”

  Al was a garbage collector.

  “You do,” Danny answered. “But Al’s brother Del is a cop and kind of fibbed and sponsored Al by telling them he was a reserve officer here in town.”

  “Lying to a gang of cops doesn’t seem like the smartest idea to me,” Hayley said.

  “That doesn’t matter!” Danny yelled. “That’s not the most important part of the story.”

  “Then why are you telling me all this?”

  He ignored her. “Anyway, Al’s little girl Samantha is old enough to ride on the back of his bike and for her birthday last summer he had this adorable helmet custom made for her. It’s pink and white!”

  “I’m so happy for her,” Hayley quipped, rolling her eyes and making a confused face even though there was no one in the office to see it.

  “Don’t you get it? A pink and white helmet! It’s perfect for Gemma’s Power Rangers costume!”

  The point of all this was slowly coming into focus.

  “Al said we can borrow it for Halloween! Gemma is going to freak out! It will look so good with the matching bodysuit I found at Kmart!”

  Danny really needed to find a full-time job.

  “That’s great! Tell Al I sure appreciate him lending it to us,” Hayley said. “Now I’m going to stop by the Shop ’n Save and pick up some Halloween candy, and then I will meet you at home for dinner. I’ve got a stew in the Crock—Pot that’s nearly done so don’t be late.”

  Before Danny could talk her ear off some more, she hung up. As office manager, she was in charge of locking up the building at the end of the workday, which meant making sure all the reporters and photographers were gone before she left and accidentally locked one of them inside for the night. She breezed through the bullpen, scanning the row of empty offices, including her boss Sal’s corner office and crime reporter Bruce Linney’s office, which was located right next to it. Those were the only two who tended to hang around past five o’clock. On her way back, she happened to see Hattie Jenkins still sitting behind her desk.

  Hattie was well into her eighties and had been the Island Times cooking columnist since the 1960s, long before Hayley was even born. Hattie was a staple at the newspaper and everyone in town diligently copied all her recipes, handed down for generations in her family, dating as far back as the ones who had endured the first Mayflower cros
sing.

  Hayley popped her head in and noticed that Hattie’s head was slumped over on her chest and her eyes were closed.

  “Hattie, it’s time to go home,” Hayley whispered.

  Hattie didn’t respond.

  “Hattie?” she said a little louder.

  Hayley’s heart jumped into her throat. She feared Hattie might have died sometime during the afternoon after eating her hard-boiled egg for lunch that she reliably put every morning in the office refrigerator along with a stern note that warned, DO NOT EAT! THIS EGG BELONGS TO HATTIE!

  Hayley moved slowly into the office, and gently shook Hattie’s shoulder.

  Still nothing.

  The tip of Hattie’s glasses hung precariously over the bridge of her nose.

  Hayley shook her again, this time harder. “Hattie, are you okay?”

  Suddenly Hattie let out a loud grunt. Her eyes popped open and she sat straight up in her chair and let out a scream at the sight of Hayley, who stumbled back.

  “Hayley, what are you doing sneaking in here like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

  “I am so sorry, Hattie. It’s five o’clock. I need to lock up. You were asleep at your desk.”

  “I most certainly was not.”

  “Yes, your eyes were closed and—”

  “I was thinking. That’s what writers do. We think about how we are going to compose our next sentence before we actually write it.”

  Hayley glanced at Hattie’s desktop computer screen. She had fallen asleep watching a cat video.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your creative process.”

  “Now you made me lose my train of thought,” Hattie said, shutting down her computer. “I might as well call it a day.”

  In her mind, Hattie had saved face. She didn’t like admitting she was getting old.

  After helping Hattie on with her coat and finally sending her on her way, Hayley was finally able to lock up the office, swing into the supermarket to pick up some candy, and head home for the day. When she arrived, she walked through the back door that led into the kitchen and found twelve-year-old Gemma already modeling her Power Rangers helmet for her father. He stood against the stove, beaming proudly. One of Hayley’s best friends, Mona Barnes, who was married with four or five kids—Hayley could never keep track of the actual number—and who was also the owner of a very successful lobster business, was gulping down a bowl of Hayley’s beef stew.