01 Flip That Haunted House - Haunted Renovation Page 22

  I groaned. “All I said was darn.”

  “You’ll have to pull over and change,” she ordered.

  “I can’t believe you’re making me do this. This is a life and death situation and I’m in a hurry.”

  “You’ll thank me later. There’s a gas station. Stop there.” She pointed.

  Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any better.

  Lucky me. I could model my lovely camo and sequined getup in the middle of the Chevron. I wheeled into the gas station. Several people in the parking lot coughed, fighting the strangling cloud that grabbed them as I drove past. Of course, the restrooms were inside—the one time I wanted an outside toilet.

  With my head hung low, I trudged through the store. A couple of women behind the counter chatted, then paused to watch me. Thankfully, the restroom was unoccupied and I had the room to myself. I slipped into the stall and wrestled into my clown fatigues, pulling on the two sizes too big pants, then the button-down matching shirt. I stood in front of the mirror and gawked at my reflection. Ridiculous wasn’t even an accurate word to describe the way I felt.

  I stuffed the cap under my arm, the sequins crunched as I folded them. Maybe my mother wouldn’t enforce the complete look. I paused at the door, then pushed forward into the open expanse of the store so everyone could take a gander. I shuffled to the door, praying the women at the counter wouldn’t notice. The worst part? The place had security cameras. They’d probably roll back the footage later and laugh at my expense.

  “Oh. My. God. Alabama is that you?” The screech echoed through the food mart.

  Did I dare look up? Surreptitiously, I titled my head in the direction of the whiny voice. Then I saw her. Dana McCubbins. Know it all of my senior class. My nemesis. Well, at least in my mind, she was the enemy. I couldn’t let her see me in the outfit.

  “Alabama, it’s me, Dana.” She waved. Her brown bob swayed with the movement.

  I had thought she left town after graduation. She swore she’d never come back, and I was holding her to that proclamation.

  Any other time, I’d be friendly, I swear. But right now, I had to go. Carolyn needed me. I slipped out the door and hurried over to the waiting truck. Not bothering to turn around and acknowledge Dana. She had sabotaged my locker on more than one occasion. On purpose, so I didn’t feel too badly.

  “Um, Mama, I don’t think I can pull off this look as well as you do.” I slinked back into the truck.

  Customers still stared. Hadn’t they ever seen sequined camouflage before?

  “Nonsense, you look fantastic.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I quipped.

  A short distance later and we eased up the dirt path toward the cabin. I parked the truck behind a line of tall pine trees.

  “Maybe we should leave the truck running, you think?” I grabbed Mama’s hand, stopping her from turning the key. “It’ll backfire and echo all over this place,” I said.

  “Oh, you’re right. Good thinking. What do we do now?”

  I stared at her for a second, not knowing what to say. I didn’t have a plan. Another scheme I hadn’t thought out.

  “Come on, let’s go up there and see if we can find her.” The rusty truck door squeaked as I opened it.

  “Tell me again why you think she’s there?” She followed along behind me, clipping at my heels.

  “I explained it once in the truck already. I don’t have time to tell you again.”

  Only a few white clouds dotted the sapphire sky. The day would have been perfect if only it were twenty degrees warmer. We inched our way up toward the cabin. I darted between trees and she followed my moves. The large evergreen trees sprinkled around concealed our movements.

  As we neared the cabin, my mother paused. “I hope no one sees us.”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled. So much for her being like a ninja. The cold wind whipped through my camouflage jacket and I shivered. Too bad she hadn’t bought the winter version. We inched toward the small house. My heart pounded in my ears. I looked around, but not another living soul was in sight. The modest log cabin sat on top of a small hill surrounded by rolling acres. A porch spanned across the entire front. Rocking chairs sat on each side. There was a screen door in the middle with double windows on both sides of the cabin. No decorations like Carolyn’s cabin, the place almost looked vacant.

  The area was isolated, miles away from any other homes—a perfect location for a kidnapper and murderer.

  We reached the edge of the cabin and I motioned for Mama to hit the ground.

  “We’ll have to crawl the rest of the way,” I whispered.

  How ridiculous we must have looked in our matching sequined-camo combos slithering along in the grass like a couple of snakes. I crept up the narrow wooden steps onto the porch, then crawled along the ground to the window. I wanted a peek inside. On the opposite corner, a cat licked his paws and began smoothing out his overnight wrinkles. He didn’t seem to mind the humans snooping around.

  My mother shuffled across the porch floor on her stomach like a solider crawling along a battlefield. I climbed onto my knees and peered into the cabin. My hand flew to my mouth, stifling my gasp. Fear shook me to my core, but at the same time relief washed over me. In the middle of the room was Carolyn—roped to a chair. She had an unhealthy pallor as she sat in the simple oak chair, her posture crumbled and listless.

  Just seeing her made me dizzy and a nausea overcame my stomach. The room was illuminated by the sunshine bouncing off the white walls and warmed by the natural woods. Old-fashioned light fixtures were mounted on the walls and a large crackling fireplace occupied the room’s center. Behind me, Mama clawed at my pants, trying to hoist herself for a view.

  “Get off my pants,” I said through clinched teeth. “You’re pulling them down and my butt is exposed.” I grabbed my pants, pulled them up and lowered back down from the window.

  There was no plan on how to rescue Carolyn. Calling the police would have been the wise thing to do, but whom was I kidding? Not in this town. I didn’t always make the best decisions and now was no exception. I turned around on my hands and knees in order to slink off the porch and back to the truck. A black boot placed in front of my face stopped me.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” I peered up. Jim Richmond, the jolly realtor stared down at me. His evil expression sent a chill down my spine. His mouth twisted into a sinister grin.

  “I’m going to kill you.” He said with not so much as a twitch of the lip. He grabbed my arm and snatched me up. A pain seared through my arm as if he’d pulled it from the socket. He pointed a gun at my mother’s head. Once on my feet, I drew my hand back to punch him. He gripped my arm and twisted with such force I thought I’d throw-up on his boot. He laughed as I screamed out in pain. Obviously, he took pleasure in hurting me. I would have never guessed he’d be this evil.

  My arm ached under his hand. I twisted, but couldn’t break free. Once again, I screamed out in pain. He lurched back his arm, and landed a sucker-punch square on my jaw. Stars formed in front of my eyes. Panic had set in and I didn’t know how I’d get us away from this lunatic. I regretted having my mother bring me here. I didn’t want her involved.

  “Get up,” he ordered Mama.

  She stumbled along the porch. He scowled.

  “I said, get up!” His hold on me tightened.

  “She’s trying,” I said.

  He smacked me with the palm of his hand and I fell to the floor. With legs like rubber, I fumbled to my feet. Jim pushed us through the door. Carolyn looked up with horror in her eyes. The cabin under other circumstances would have been cozy. Now it felt as if it was a hopeless prison. There was no escape as far as I could tell.

  He pulled two more chairs into the center of the room, all the while the gun pointed at us. “Sit.”

  I moved over, my gaze never left Jim. My mother sat in one chair and I eased into the other. He wrapped the rope around my mother an
d then me. Our hands were tied.

  “We’re gonna die,” Carolyn screamed.

  “Please, Carolyn, don’t think such things. Positive thoughts. You have to remain strong,” I said.

  “Do you have any suggestions to get us out of this?” she snapped.

  “No, but I’m not about to let him kill us.”

  Carolyn sobbed.

  “Please don’t, Carolyn. I thought you were stronger than that?”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” She sniffled.

  “You’re a psychic medium—I thought all mediums were always calm under pressure?”

  “I was born with a gift, that doesn’t mean I’m not scared.” Carolyn’s sobbing eased.

  We sat quietly waiting for his next move. He paced around the room, mumbling under his breath. Jim’s scarlet red face twisted with anger, mottleed with fury. Sweat broke out on his forehead like dew. Had he ever been kind? Did something just send him over the edge? Trails of veins bulged at his temples and I thought he may explode at any moment.

  Carolyn looked at me. “What’s with the outfit?”

  Even with Carolyn’s eclectic style—which almost rivaled my mother’s—she could spot a bad outfit when she saw one. And at a time like this.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “A little bit of detective work. I’ll explain later.”

  “If there is a later.” She sobbed again.

  “Shut up, you hens.” He screeched out the vehement command. Jim’s mouth twisted. He stuck his wrinkled face in mine, then poked the gun into my side.

  Why had he kidnapped Carolyn and murdered Payne?

  “You know, at first I thought I’d just scare you, when I saw you snooping around Payne’s office. I was there, you know? Hiding behind the cabinet in the corner. At first, I wasn’t sure if you saw me, but I realized you saw me leave the building. Stupid bitch! Why didn’t you just drive away?”

  Jim paced around the room, delivering his lecture.

  “Then you started sneaking around. You’re just the type of person I detest. You make me sick.”

  What was so bad about me? Whatever. I didn’t care one way or the other. With the gun pointed in my direction, I didn’t want to push my luck by asking. I’d gotten all of us into a pickle. My mind raced. I needed a plan. My thoughts were muddled, though. Panic and shock consumed me.

  Fear covered my mother’s face. I’d never hassle her about her wardrobe again if we got out of this mess. Thinking of puppies and babies was helping to calm my nerves. But nothing I thought of completely helped clear my thoughts. Rational thinking would be the only thing to save us.

  Carolyn sniffled, making my guilt mount. It was my fault she was in this mess. My mother sat quietly. She was probably the bravest out the three of us. She hid her fear well.

  A sneer of disgust covered Jim’s face. “I wanted what was rightfully mine. I wanted my money, but that bastard refused to hand it over. People warned me not to believe him when he offered me the extra money if I could unload that stupid haunted house.” He paced in front of me, waving the gun. “That evening, I walked into his office. He had a smug look on his face and it was just too easy to kill him. I went for my cash, plain and simple. He promised me. I was owed, but he refused to pay up. Said he’d changed his mind and hadn’t made as much on the house as he’d hoped, so he couldn’t afford to pay me.”

  Jim barely paused to breathe. How long could he rant?

  “I told him I wasn’t leaving without my money. He said it’d be in my best interest to leave.” Jim scoffed. “He said, ‘don’t play with fire and you won’t get burned.’ I lost it. I was ticked off. A man has to do what a man has to do, you know? He had this paperweight on the desk, so I picked it up and hit him in the head. I hit just at the right spot, I guess, because all it took was one quick lick.”

  My stomach turned. I cringed as the image of Payne’s lifeless body flashed through my mind for the millionth time. A chill ran up my spine when I realized how easily he’d killed the man. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill all of us.

  Jim continued. “No one wanted to buy that place, you know? Every time I tried to sell it someone would look at it once, claim they’d seen something, and the deal would be off. Some broad would spot a ghost and run from the house. Then you came along. You shocked me. I couldn’t believe you actually went through with it. You’ll never fix that house, by the way.” He laughed. “You’re not very bright are you?”

  I gathered my courage and asked, “Didn’t someone live in the house for years before Payne Cooper bought it?”

  “Shut up.” He put his head in his hands, the gun still in his grasp. Clearly, I’d overstepped my bounds.

  “As a matter of fact, someone did live there.” His tone was calm. “Hell, old Thomas Bennett lived there for over fifty years and never one word was said about the place being haunted. At least, not that I ever heard. The ghost talk didn’t start until Payne Cooper bought it. At first, I thought it was just a fanciful story, then I saw something myself…”

  “What did you see?” I asked.

  “That’s enough talking.” His tone changed. “I’m tired of dealing with you hens.”

  “You won’t get away with this, you know?”

  Jim chortled. “Why not? I got away with the first one. What’s three more?”

  “Even if you kill us, you still won’t get any money,” I said.

  “Yes, that’s true. But…alas, I have to. Y’all know I killed Payne now.”

  I’d seen many movies where the victim was able to talk themselves out of being exterminated. Obviously, it only in worked in the movies, because Jim didn’t put the gun down or untangle us. Silence surrounded us. Only a few birds chirped outside the window.

  “Did you leave the tile next to my door?”

  “Did you like that? I thought it a nice touch. Plus, I needed a good laugh.” He chuckled. “Now, how about some nice music to die to?”

  The sick bastard! He really was crazy.

  I watched, my heart pounding, as Jim turned and walked toward the entertainment center set against the wall. Stereo equipment, a DVD player, a TV, and other knickknacks lined the shelves. Frames with family photos sat on top.

  “Are those your grandchildren in the photos?” I asked.

  He twisted the knob, trying to find a song.

  “Shut up, I said! I can’t concentrate.”

  Okay, even thoughts of his family didn’t work. Sweat beaded on my forehead.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, that’s the song he choose?” I whispered.

  My eyes wide, I glanced over at Mama. Jim had found the oldies station. Chuck Berry sang the lyrics to My Ding A Ling. Jim danced with the music. Despite my fear, I had to stifle a giggle when he began dancing in front of us. He snapped out of his gleeful parade just in time.

  He turned to face us again, then pointed the gun back and forth at all three of us. He flashed a rakish grin. My wrists hurt from the rope. I wiggled them, but the twine didn’t budge. I said a silent prayer. Loosening the rope was my only hope of escaping the madman. Jim really knew how to tie a knot. I wiggled my hands behind my back, trying not to let him see me. As I worked the rope, a glimpse of movement from the window caught my eye. What if Jim had an accomplice? Although, for all I knew it could have only been a deer running past. With that thought, my hope quickly faded. Then, once again, I saw the movement.

  A dark-brown batch of hair bobbed up and down across the window. I prayed someone was there to save us, and not there to help Jim bury our bodies deep in the woods. Jim continued to fumble with the radio.

  He stopped, then turned around and said, “Well, it’s time, ladies.” He brushed his hands together in a clap. “Are you ready?” He pulled the gun from his waistband. “Who wants to be first?”

  Carolyn let out a soft whimper, but it turned to a loud sob quickly. My eyes widened and my life flashed before my eyes. My thoughts turned to my family, how I’d
never finished one stupid job and even to Reed. At least I had that one kiss before I died. My mother sat without making a peep. I turned to look at her.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I can’t believe I got us into this. I just wanted to finish the darn house flipping. You kind of never finished anything either, you know.” I looked at her. “And you passed that trait on to me.” Maybe I shouldn’t confront her at that moment, but since we were about to die, I needed to everything off my chest.

  “I did finish something. I raised you and that was a tough job. I think you turned out all right.”

  “Did I? I’ve never completed one project. I drift from one thing to the next, looking for something. What, I have no idea.”

  “Sometimes accomplishments aren’t measured by how much money you make or what award you receive in the end,” she said.

  “But it’s important to me to finish.”

  “Alabama, listen to me. You can do anything you set your mind to. It’s not for your lack of trying. You just needed to find your niche—”

  Jim moved and she stopped talking. He’d been distracted by the radio again. He stood in front of the door and stared at us. A loud clatter came from the porch, then the door burst open, knocking Jim to his knees. The gun flew out from his hands and landed across the floor. Reed leapt on top of him, wrangling him to the ground. Jim struggled and Reed punched with his fist. There was a fire in Reed’s eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Jim managed to free one hand from Reed’s grip and struggled for the gun lying nearby. Reed pushed Jim’s hand away and he grabbed the gun. Raising his hand up high over his head, Reed whacked Jim on the head, knocking him out cold. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I’d always controlled my emotions fairly well, but now I was a mess.

  “I guess you found my note?” I sniffled. I hated for him to see me cry.

  He nodded. “How thoughtful of you to leave one before you took off to get yourself killed.” He ran over to us. “Thank God, I made it in time. You were almost toast, you know that?” He fumbled with the rope on Carolyn’s wrists. He paused and looked at me, then said, “What the hell are you wearing?”