The Supernaturals (11 page)

“Jesus. Close that up,” Greg said, pinching his nose at the earthy smell.

Paul let the door fall back into place just as Kelly tuned and made her way to the stairs. The two co-hosts quickly followed. As they did, pressure from somewhere below in the root cellar made the door jump. Then it settled and lay still.

Lindemann was waiting inside the giant kitchen when they were finished down below, this time with a drink in hand, ready to conduct the rest of the tour. The house was, as expected, gorgeous. They covered the ballroom and the family room, with pictures of functions from summers past. There were a few spots where the paint was brighter, where pictures had hung for ages and had only recently been removed. Kelly made a note to inquire about them later.

 
When they had finished with the pool area, followed by the stables, they reentered the grand ballroom and waited while Lindemann poured another drink for himself—without offering any to his guests. Then they climbed the grand staircase once more and examined the bedrooms and suites on the second floor. When they stopped again at the second floor landing, Lindemann started heading down.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Kelly asked.

Lindemann drained his glass and eyed her for a moment.

“The third floor bedrooms?” Kelly reminded him. “The famous wall of the third floor hallway, and the suite where our opera star disappeared.”

“And also the room where that supposed assault occurred,” Greg added.

Lindemann dipped his chin to his chest and held it there a brief moment.

“I guess I forgot, didn’t I?” He abruptly stepped back onto the landing and made his way back down the hallway, toward the upward-leading stairs on the opposite side of the second floor.

“Strange man,” Paul said quietly, deliberately lagging behind.

“Strange, my ass. Did you see his face?” Kelly said, almost in a whisper, watching Lindemann’s back. “Our Mr. Silver-Spoon-Up-The-Ass needed a stiff drink before even coming up here. He’s scared shitless.”

Lindemann paused at the stairwell after their long walk to the opposite side of the house. Then, after it seemed he had built the courage to do so, bounded up the stairs.

When they reached the third floor landing, Kelly looked both ways down the hallway. The Persian carpet runner was centered perfectly on the hardwood floor and everything looked recently cleaned and dusted. Eunice Johansson and her daughters undoubtedly had been told that Kelly and her team would want to utilize the third floor for the show.

“Corner suite, outside wall is where that crazy bastard said his student disappeared. The opera star’s room is directly across the hall, opposite corner. The one with the double doors. As for the silent film star’s suite, I have no idea. That was one of the blatant lies I’d never heard before. The large suite at the end of the hallway was my great-great aunt’s sewing room. Be respectful, please. She loved it there, so the stories go, and never really went anywhere else in the house when there weren’t any guests,” Lindemann said. He turned, and was already on the second riser before Kelly halted him.

“You’re leaving us?” she asked. It was curious that she had never heard mention of any sewing room, especially one so high up in the house.
A tad inconvenient,
she thought.

“I have calls to make, Ms. Delaphoy. I can’t babysit you and your crew the entire evening.” He took the steps quickly, before she could halt him with any more questions.

“Chicken shit,” Kelly mumbled. She turned to her left and started toward the largest suite.

Paul and Greg followed, examining the papered wall as they went. The bright yellow floral pattern, while meant to be cheery, felt very much out of place.

“Does the wallpaper look new to you guys?” Kelly asked. She had reached the corner suite on the opposite end of the hallway from the sewing room.

“Hadn’t noticed,” Greg said. The look he gave Paul warned him not to encourage her with a positive answer.

Kelly paused with her hand resting on the cut glass doorknob. “I would like more input from you two. I saw you looking at the wallpaper and I know you also think it’s out of place. The other floors have solid colors, so why does this have a floral print?” She turned her head and looked at the two hosts. “Lindemann tried to add a false cheeriness to this floor, and failed miserably, when it was cleaned up after Professor Kennedy’s visit.” Kelly turned the knob and opened the door. “Get with it; I can’t do this on my own.”

Greg shrugged his shoulders and then stepped up behind Kelly to look into the large suite.

The room was huge. The main bedroom was occupied by one of the largest beds any of the three had ever seen. It was at least sixteenth century, and was complete with a canopy and a bedspread that looked as if it were made of mink. The oil paintings on the walls were of the surrounding Pocono valley. The walls were papered in a satin-type rose colored print with fine stripes, the type seen in boudoirs at the turn of the century. There were three very large cherry wood wardrobes, with three Japanese silk screens at the side of each. The Persian rug was of the same quality as the others they had seen in the house, only this one was far more expensive in look and texture.

Kelly walked to the opposite wall where a large window looked out and down onto the pool and the grounds beyond.

“So far the only creepy thing around this place is the damn owner, and I very seriously doubt if we could fill eight hours with just him,” Greg said as he opened up one of the ornate wardrobes. He suddenly jumped back from the black sequined evening gown hanging in front of him. For a moment, he thought it was an apparition.

“What?” Kelly and Paul asked at the same moment.

“Jesus. Ah...it’s only a dress.”

“Yeah, I suppose it’s a sequined evening gown?” she asked mockingly.

“As a matter of fact, yeah, it’s black and it’s sequined. It’s also the only thing hanging in here.”

Kelly lost her smile as she stepped in front of Greg and peered inside. Her brows rose as she pulled the dress out of the closet and looked at it in the light. Years of dust fell free of the gown and a small piece fell to the rug at her feet. Moths had had their way with the old dress for nearly a century.

“Why would they leave that here? This can’t be the opera diva’s dress, that’s just a little too farfetched,” Paul said.

 
“I doubt it,” Kelly answered him under her breath, and then she quickly hung the gown back up. “If it is or isn’t, I want shots of this thing on Halloween. That’s got creep factor.”

She pushed the silk-screened door closed, checked her watch, and moved out into the hallway.

“We’ll try and find the actress’ room later. We’ve got to start the set-up,” she said. She looked up the long hallway, staring toward the sewing room at the far end until a voice intruded on her thoughts.

“Look at this,” Paul said. He was kneeling on one knee and probing the wallpaper with his fingertips. He slid his hand up the wall until he had to straighten. Then he ran his fingers down the wall again.

“What are you doing?” Kelly asked.

Paul finally straightened, then stepped back from the wall and tilted his head. He was still staring when Greg touched his shoulder.

“Are you going to let us in on it?”

“The glue for the wallpaper didn’t adhere in some spots. Look.” He pushed with his index finger, and Kelly and Greg both heard the soft crackle and saw the bulge dimple inward.

“Okay, shoddy paperhanging, I’ll call the union,” Greg said.

Kelly stepped back against the opposite wall and looked at the spot more closely.

“I see it,” she said.

“See what?” Greg asked in frustration as he stepped backward to join her.

“The place where the glue didn’t stick to the plaster? It’s in the shape of a man,” Paul said. He stepped out of the way so that they could see it better.

Kelly could see the torso, arms and legs. The head was slightly too large for the body, but it was there also.

“Okay, now that is creepy.” Greg swallowed.

“We need to get one of the cameras on this and make it look like an accidental finding during the show. We’ll test it tonight. Maybe it’ll get a rise out of New York and LA. We’ll need to side light it, maybe with a standard flashlight…yeah, that’ll do it. We’ll bring it out in relief, use shadow to highlight what the audience will be looking at.”

Paul turned and looked at Kelly.

“This isn’t where that student disappeared, Kelly. Hell, come on; this is just a fluke. Bad workmanship, that’s all.”

“Okay, I’ll buy that, but this is something we can use, damn it. I sure as hell wouldn’t have thought of something like that.”

“Okay, point taken,” Paul said. Kelly jotted it down in her notepad.

“Now, let’s check out the sewing room,” Kelly said. When there was no immediate answer, she looked up with her pen poised above the paper. “What?” she asked. She was starting to get annoyed at her team’s hesitation. Then she saw both men looking to their left. Her eyes followed theirs. The door to the sewing room was standing wide open. It looked as if the room was welcoming them.

“That door wasn’t opened a moment ago,” Paul stepped back and brushed against the wall with the outline in its paper. He took two quick steps forward, away from the outline.

“Lindemann must have opened it on his way back down,” Kelly said.