Rosecliff Manor Haunting (13 page)

Addison opened her eyes. The bald man was on the floor beside her, his head drowning in a pool of blood. She arced around, looked up. “Derek?”

He leaned Rose’s rifle against the wall and extended a hand, pulling her back on her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I … think so.” A wave of panic gripped her. “Derek … your mother! Luke! The man said, I mean, I don’t know, but we have to—”

Derek placed a hand on her wrist. “It’s okay. They’re all right. This man, whoever he is, locked them in the shed out back. I ran to the house to get the key to let them out and heard the window shatter.”

“You saved my life.”

Derek spread his arms to the side. “What in the hell happened in here anyway? Who is this guy? Why was he trying to kill you?”

“I need to see Luke,” Addison said. “Please. I have to know he’s all right. Then I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

Sirens howled up the road, vehicles screeching to a stop in front of the manor. An army of footsteps ascended the stairs. Officer North led the way, his eyes bulging in disbelief when he realized the woman standing in front of him was the same woman he’d arrested at this same house before. “You, again?”

Addison half waved. “Uhh, hi.”

Lia sprung into the room, elbowing Officer North aside. She threw her arms around Addison. “You’re alive!”

A minute later, Luke and Rose had been freed, and they too entered the room. Luke pulled Addison to the side, planting a kiss on her lips. “I thought I lost you.”

Officer North rolled his eyes. “Okay, people. Everybody out. This is a crime scene, not a drive-in movie theater. Move this little reunion of yours somewhere else.”

Several hours later, police had enough evidence to detain Dean Robertson for solicitation of murder. After searching through the bald man’s phone history, several calls were found both to and from Dean’s number. A stone-faced Derek sat silently on a chair in the library where everyone had gathered, a look on his face like he was still in shock. Although they hadn’t kept in touch over the years, in his youth, Dean had been one of his closest friends.

“After all this, we still don’t know what happened,” Marjorie said.

“We know enough,” Addison replied. 

“Enough to help my girls move on?”

Still the nonbeliever, Derek rolled his eyes.

“With your permission, I’d like to try,” Addison said.  

“Can I be in the room with you? Can I speak to them one last time?”  

“You wouldn’t be able to see them even if you were there, Rose. I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t seem fair, does it? Can you at least tell them something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Tell them I love them. Tell them I think of them every day. All I want now is for us to be together again.”

Addison smiled. “Believe me, they know.”

…

Marjorie and Addison sat in the center of the attic, legs crossed, hands clasped together.

“Go ahead,” Marjorie prompted. “You do the honors this time.”

“Are you sure? Last time you—”

Marjorie squeezed Addison’s hand. “One day, you’ll have your own daughter, and I won’t be here. It will be up to you to teach her. Now close your eyes and let him come. It’s time.”

“Clifford Clark, we invite you in,” Addison said.

Bright light exploded into the room, a white sphere, bathing the room in an effulgent glow. It dissipated, and the celestial body of Cliff Clark emerged. He looked around, at the room, at Marjorie and Addison. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“You know where you are,” Addison said. “Take a minute. Try to remember this place.”

His eyes came to rest on the shattered window. “I’m … this was my home. My daughters … they … I can’t find them.”

“Good,” Marjorie said. “He knows where he is, and he’s been looking for his daughters. Let’s reunite them.”

“Vivian and Grace Clark, we invite you in.”

Vivian appeared.

“Where’s Grace?” Addison asked.

Vivian angled her head toward the coat closet. After all they’d been through, Addison had hoped Grace would come willingly this time.

“I need you to open the door to the closet,” Addison whispered. “I need you to take her hand and force her out, Vivian. You’re the only one who can.”   

“But I—”

“Now, Vivian. It needs to happen now.”

Vivian half opened the door, peeked inside. “Grace, we have to go now.”

“I won’t leave Mama. She’s all alone.”

Vivian reached a hand inside the closet, helped Grace out. Grace stood motionless, her eyes closed. “Open your eyes, Grace. It’s Daddy. He came back for us.” 

“What’s happening?” Cliff asked. “Where are my daughters?”

Addison looked at Marjorie. “Why can’t he see them?”

“He can’t see them, and they can’t cross until Grace accepts what happened to her.”

Grace opened her eyes. “Daddy? Daddy?”

“Do you want to be with him?” Addison asked. “Do you want him to see you?”  

Grace nodded.

“Then I need you to be brave, just for a minute. Okay?”

She nodded, again.

“The night you died, you were playing hide-and-seek in this room, weren’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Vivian found some pages from a magazine, and she ran to the window. Do you remember what happened next?”

Grace wriggled her hand free from Vivian’s, walked to the window, looked down. “Vivian! No!” She curled her fingers, began clawing at the open air, like she was trying to keep an invisible force away from attacking her.

“I think she’s reliving the moment after Vivian died,” Addison said.

“She’s dead!” Grace screamed. “You killed her! You killed Vivian! I’m telling!”

Vivian ran to the window, seized Grace by the arms. “It’s okay. I’m here. It’s over. He can’t hurt you now.”

A single tear seeped from Cliff’s eye. Arms extended, he said, “Vivian? Grace?”  

Grace turned. “Daddy?”

She’d finally seen what she needed to see. Both girls ran to their father, who enveloped them in his arms. Reconciliation complete, their spirits started to fade from the room.

Vivian looked at Addison and smiled.

Grace said, “Tell Mama we know what she said. Tell her we love her.”

Cliff clutched his daughters in his arms, looked at Addison and Marjorie, and said, “I don’t know who you are, but thank you.”

And then they were gone.

The following morning, Lia granted Addison a favor. A quick favor. Five minutes with a man who was currently in police custody.

“I heard you confessed,” Addison said.

Dean Robertson glanced up. “Guess I’m a lousy criminal.”

“Guess so.”

“Tell me, how did you figure out it was me? When did you know?”

“I didn’t. Not until I found the dried blood on the nail and remembered shaking your hand yesterday and seeing that nasty scar on the inside of your palm, right below your thumb.”

“Could have happened any number of ways.”

“But it didn’t,” she said. “And when the DNA test comes back, it will be a match.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a match or not. I confessed.”

“Why now?”

“After what happened last night, I knew the investigation would be reopened. Besides, it was time.”    

“It was time, or you were given an ultimatum to confess?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I received an interesting call this morning,” Addison said, “from your old pal Rick. Want to know what he told me?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“He told me he called you last night, right before you were arrested, and said if you didn’t confess, he’d confess for you. Guess you should be more careful about the things you say to someone when you’re drunk.”

“Guess so.” 

“You hired someone to kill me.”

Dean walked to the front of the cell. “You’re wrong. I never told him to kill you. I told him to scare you. He took it too far.”

“Nice story. Did it convince the police? Because you sure as hell aren’t convincing me.”

“It’s the truth. Why would I lie now? I’m a lawyer. I know what I’m facing.”

“It could be worse. You could be dead like Vivian and Grace.”

“It was an accident, you know? One of the guys at the party needed to use the bathroom, and I didn’t know where else to go. I decided I’d go back to the attic, wait for the guys there.”

“Vivian ran to the window, flung the magazine pictures around. You were embarrassed. You tried to get them from her, but your body weight was too much, and she fell.”

Dean stepped back, his face filled with confusion. “What you just said is more detail than I admitted to the police. How could you possibly know? Vivian and Grace were the only ones in the attic besides me.”

“What I don’t understand is, how did Grace end up sharing the same fate? How did the doll end up on the roof?”

“It’s all in the police report.”

“I don’t want to read it in a police report or see it on the news. I want you to tell me.” 

Dean sat back down, burying his head in his hands. “When Vivian fell, Grace tried to escape, to run downstairs. I knew what would happen. I knew she’d tell. I dragged her to the window and pushed her.”

“And the doll?”

“I saw it sitting there in a box. I pulled it out and chucked it on the roof.”

“So the cops would think the girls had risked their lives trying to get it.”

“I never thought it would work. When it did, I couldn’t believe it.”

“How is it no one saw you leave the attic?”

“They were all outside. By the time they stormed the attic, I had blended in like I’d been standing there with everyone the whole time.”

“You won’t understand what I’m about to say, but you have no idea the damage you’ve done. Not just with Vivian and Grace’s deaths, but after. It’s a shame New York doesn’t have the death penalty anymore. You deserve it.”

Addison turned, headed for the door.

“Wait.”

“No,” she said. “We’re done here.”

“I had a dream last night. Vivian and Grace were hovering over me. They grabbed me, hauled me across a bunch of broken glass over to the window. They lifted me by my collar like I weighed nothing and tossed me out. It was so real, like it was really happening. And you want to know the weirdest part? I didn’t find out about the shattered window until this morning.”

Addison smirked. Maybe the girls were getting sweet justice after all.

She turned around. “That dream you had—if I were you I’d get used to it.”

Three Months Later

Addison plopped down on the sofa next to Luke and said, “Ready?”

He reached for the remote and frowned.

“Oh, come on,” Addison joked. “You lost the bet. It’s
one
chick flick. I think you’ll survive.”

“Yes, but a period film?”

“
Sense and Sensibility
is my favorite. You did say
any
movie.”

He bumped her shoulder with his own. “Yeah, because I was sure I’d win.”

“I’ll make you a deal.
Sense and Sensibility
today,
American Sniper
tomorrow.”

The television screen sprung to life, and the previews began.

Addison stood.

“Where are you going?” Luke asked. “You just sat down.”

“Forgot my blanket.”

“While you’re up, could you get me something?”

“Sure.”

“Some Ben & Jerry’s.”

She grinned. “You mean
my
Ben & Jerry’s?”

He laughed. “Don’t be stingy. I’ll buy you another pint tomorrow.”

“I’m going to hold you to it.”

“Oh hey, I forgot to ask—how was your visit with Milton today?”

“Good. He’s letting Marjorie live in the house Helen left him while he serves his time.”

“What is his lawyer saying? Anything new?”

“He’s hopeful they’ll put him on probation, give him community service soon. He’ll still be in there for a while, but hopefully not too long. I have to say, he amazes me.”

“The lawyer?”

“Milton. I never had the chance to get to know him before now. In a way, he’s like the grandfather I never had. Our visits mean so much to him. I think they fill some of the void he feels over losing Helen.”    

Addison went to her room and removed the afghan from the end of the bed, crunching the soft layers together beneath her nose. She breathed in. The red and white afghan was one her mother had crocheted for her years earlier. Every once in a while, she still caught a lingering whiff of her mother’s perfume. It seemed silly, but it kept her close somehow.    

Blanket cloaked around her, she descended the stairs, noticing Luke was no longer on the couch. She called his name. He didn’t respond. Thinking he’d gone to retrieve the ice cream himself, she went to the kitchen. He wasn’t there. She opened the freezer and glanced around, not seeing her usual flavor of ice cream on the shelf where she usually left it. Pushing a few slabs of meat to the side, she spotted the pint container all the way to the back, wedged between a few other items. She reached a hand inside, gripped the tub, and pulled forward, realizing it was light. Much too light. She closed the freezer door and looked down, noticing the label looked different than it normally did. Instead of the purple “Chocolate Therapy” she was used to, in big, red lettering it said, “Will You Marry Me?”    

“Addison?”

Eyes blurred with tears, she turned.

Luke was lowered on one knee, holding a velvet box in his outstretched hand. He popped the box open, revealing the sparkly diamond inside. “Addison Lockhart, the day you came into my life was the first time I ever had a desire to spend my life with someone else, to have a family, to grow old with someone by my side. And I knew I’d never be truly complete until I was yours, and you were mine. Will you marry me?”

Unable to speak, she nodded. Luke slipped the ring on her quivering finger, stood, and pulled her toward him, sealing the deal with a gentle kiss.

“It’s a yes, right?” he asked.

“It’s a yes,” she replied. “It’s always been yes.” 

THE END