Chapter One
Star West slammed the morning newspaper down onto the desk. She pulled off her brother’s ear buds when he refused to look at it. “Hey! I was listening to that!” He squawked trying to grab them back, Star held them out of reach and tossed the newspaper at him.
“Old Backwater passed away last night.” Star told him indicating the front page of the Herald. Sam barely glanced at it before casting it aside.
“So? What was he…? Ninety?” Star sighed with frustration; Sam was the only family she had left after the car accident that claimed their parents three years ago. She loved him but he could be a right pain in the ass when he was bored. They hadn’t had a case since the Bell gate ghost three weeks ago.
“Eighty two.” She snapped shoving the paper back at him. “And it was by no means natural.” Finally she had his full attention. His dark eyes regarded her warily before taking the paper and scanning the front page.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” He whispered after a few minutes had passed. “The famous Angel crest ghost appeared to the family during dinner,” he read out loud, “and gave a dire warning to old Lord Backwater that sounded like she’s coming for you.” He tossed the paper on the desk and eyed his younger sister with amusement. “It’s just the Backwaters trying to drum up more publicity for their crumbling estate.”
“Then why did the old man suffer a heart attack an hour later?” Star asked while tidying up the mess her brother had made of their father’s office. “Do you have to leave rubbish on the floor? I’m not your cleaner.” Sam examined the article again.
“I missed the waste basket.” He remarked distractedly. “You really believe something supernatural is going on up there?” Star understood her brother’s scepticism, everyone in the village knew the Backwater’s was facing bankruptcy after bad money investments. They had opened their home: Angel Crest Manor to the public to try and rake in some cash but the poor state of the house, and the fact that tourists rarely passed this way meant they were getting further in debt.
The Angel Crest ghost had come into being a few months ago and the Wests knew it was a shameful ploy to draw in the masses, everybody loved an old haunted house, but after the Lord’s mysterious death Star wasn’t too sure the Backwater’s were making it up.
“They lost power and heat,” she replied, “and every single clock in the house stopped at 8p.m. I think it’s worth checking out, even if it’s not our thing, it will get you out of here for a few hours.” He eyed her with suspicion.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No, you’re practically bouncing off the walls, it will do you good.”
“You’re not coming?” Sam asked with surprise in his voice. Star straightened and gave up trying to straighten the office.
“I have to do the books and besides the Backwater’s are only hiring one person.”
“What do you mean hiring?” Sam’s voice went up a decibel and Star failed to hide her grin.
“Sam they aren’t just going to let you in, they’re advertising for a handyman and that is the one thing you’re good at. You can go wherever you like and no one will bat an eyelid, it’s the perfect way to investigate without drawing attention to yourself.” He sighed and gave her the evil eye.
“You seem to have all this planned out.”
“I’m a fast thinker. Now get going we don’t want the position filled. I’ll be here all day if you need me.” Throwing on his jacket and grabbing his keys Sam grudgingly left the office and stepped out into a bright cold day.
As he drove the dark blue Chevy through the town he couldn’t help but ponder what Star was up to. If this was their thing then they obviously needed to solve it, but something told him that there was more to this than his sister was saying.
They had lived in Benson Rapids all their lives. Their parents moved here when Father retired from the New York Police Department. He became a private investigator and their Mother had worked as his sectary. Sadly everything changed for the worse after the crash. Sam was the black sheep of the family, he had enlisted in the army much to his Father’s disappointment, after his death Sam swore to make him proud if it was the last thing he did.
Big rusted gates rose up in front of him and Sam forced himself to concentrate on the here and now. They were open thanks to the comings and goings of police and emergency services, but when Sam pulled up the drive the place was eerily quiet.
Angel Crest Manor was a formidable looking Victorian style house. At the height of its grandeur it would have rivalled the prettiest structure but in its crumbling state it resembled more of a derelict house. The grassy lawns that surrounded the gravel drive were trimmed but balding in patches and most of the Manor’s fifteen acres had been sold off.
The sun had disappeared behind grey heavy rain clouds that seemed to be in permanent attendance at Angel Crest, Sam walked up the stone steps and rang the doorbell. “Can I help you with something?” He turned to see a young girl with pale skin looking up at him from the bottom step.
“Yeah, I’m here about the handyman job.” She blew her nose into a tissue and managed a smile, the old Lord’s death must have hit her hard, Sam knew what it felt like to have someone you loved taken from you.
“This way.” He followed her inside and they walked through a wooden foyer. Hunting trophies littered the shelves and cabinets along with stuffed and mounted heads of deer, bear and the odd wolf. “I’m Lucy Backwater, you’ll have to forgive us but you’ve called on a particularly sad day.” She told him as they travelled through the Manor that was as gloomy as its exterior. “My Grandfather passed away last night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.” Lucy’s heavy skirt swayed as she walked and Sam wondered how she managed not to trip, the thing brushed the floor. “Truth is I think he was murdered.” She added quietly and Sam looked at her sharply.
“By whom?” Lucy pulled him over to the wall and took a deep breath.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” She confided. “No one else here wants to hear it, and they say it’s easier to talk to strangers…” Sam said nothing, watching the struggle on her face as she debated whether to carry on or not. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she let out a nervous laugh.
“Maybe.” Sam answered. Lucy looked at him, studying him, after a brief pause she continued.
“Do you believe in the afterlife Mr…?”
“Smith. Sam Smith.” He cringed inwardly at his lame attempt to come up with something original. He couldn’t tell her his real name because his father had done some work for the Backwater’s, and Sam didn’t want to engage in a trip down memory lane. Too messy. In and out, that was the way Sam liked to work. “And yes I believe there’s life after death.” Lucy smiled and guided him to a love seat that ran parallel to the old marble staircase.
“Something weird has been happening lately.” She started. “We’ve all heard the noises at night. Footsteps walking the halls when everybody’s in bed. I was in the kitchen just the other week and a jug fell to the floor and smashed. There was no one near it Mr Smith. I know the locales think we’re making it up to attract tourists but we’re not. Last night a man appeared in the dining room and warned my Grandfather that he was in danger…An hour later he was dead!”
“Did you recognise the man?” Lucy shook her head.
“I’ve never seen him in my life! He just poof! Disappeared. It was like he was a…”
“Ghost?” Sam offered and she nodded her head, unable to say the words out loud.
“The police think it was a trick, someone playing a practical joke on us that proved too much for my Grandfather…”
“But you don’t?” She shook her head.
“I think something really bad is happening here Mr Smith…something not of this world.”