Grayson Manor Haunting Page 5

  Luke buried his head in his hands.

  “What is it?” Addison asked.

  “When my parents stopped talking and it was completely quiet inside the car, I thought I heard something.”

  “What was it?”

  “A male voice.”

  Addison tried her best to remain calm and unchanged by his revelation. “What did the voice say?”

  “It was low, like a whisper. Someone said, ‘Luke.’ The sound was so close to my face, I could feel a warm breath against my skin. I was terrified—my entire body went stiff. I tried to turn my head. I couldn’t move.”

  “What about your parents? What did they do when it happened?”

  “They just sat there,” he said. “Obviously, they hadn’t heard anything. For a few minutes, it was quiet, and then I heard the voice again. This time I could tell it was the voice of a man. He said, ‘Luke, don’t worry. It will all work out.’”

  Addison clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “I knew as soon as I heard it that it was my grandfather. It had to be. But how? I wanted to turn my head and look over to see if he was sitting on the seat next to me, but I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I covered my face with my hands and waited for it to get quiet again. Then, when it was, one by one I separated my fingers just wide enough to see about a foot in front of me.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  “Yeah, a head,” he said.

  “A what?”

  “My grandfather’s head, floating in front of me, like some kind of a hologram formed by tiny particles of air. I could see the dashboard of my father’s car right through it.”

  “His body wasn’t attached?”

  “I know it sounds crazy,” he said.

  “Not as crazy as you think. Did you ever try to talk to him?”

  “I just sat there, staring at his head. He smiled at me, the way he always did, and then laughed and said, ‘You’ll be okay. Great things are coming your way, Luke. You’ll see.’ He told me he’d always be with me, and that he understood why I couldn’t say goodbye earlier that day. Somehow I was able to nod at him, and once I did, he was gone.”

  “All of that while your parents sat in the front seat?”

  “I know—I witnessed it, and I can hardly believe it myself. Because I was so young, it would be easy to look back on it now and convince myself that I’d made it all up, but I know what I saw.”

  “I believe you,” Addison blurted out.

  He turned toward her, astonished. “You do—why?”

  She bobbed her shoulders up and down. “Why not? Who am I to say that what you saw wasn’t real?”

  Luke leaned back, his eyes never leaving her face. “There’s something about you. You’re so…different.”

  “Compared to what?”

  “Other women.”

  “Trust me when I say—you don’t know the half of it.”

  He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. “I’d like to…get to know you, I mean.”

  Was it possible? Had she finally found someone she could open up to?

  “I’m curious,” she said. “Did you tell your parents what you saw that night?”

  “I lay in bed all night thinking about it. I decided not to say anything, but the next morning, it was all I could think about it. My mom could tell something was weighing on me. She asked what it was, and I told her.”

  “And she didn’t believe you, right?” she asked. “She probably thought you made the whole thing up.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Actually, she took my dad aside and told him what I’d said. Then they came into my room, and we all discussed it together.”

  “Did they send you to counseling?”

  He raised a brow. “Counseling? I don’t understand.”

  “Wait—are you saying they believed you?” she asked.

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “Because they were in the car when it happened and neither of them saw or heard anything.”

  “My mother didn’t need to experience it to believe me. She’s always been a woman of great faith. She was overjoyed. She said my grandfather chose me because I was special and that she felt a lot better knowing he would be watching out for me. My father went to the store and bought me a journal. He said to write every detail of the experience down so I’d never forget it, but I didn’t need to write it down. I knew I would never forget.”

  Addison looked away. “You’re lucky—most parents wouldn’t see it that way.” Her phone vibrated inside of her pants pocket. She took it out and read the text message: CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU TONIGHT, HONEY. DAD. “I’m sorry, I have to go. My father is flying in at six and we’re meeting in the city for dinner.”

  “Will I get the chance to meet him?”

  “I don’t think so—he has a meeting in the morning. He’s flying back out tonight.”

  He stood. “Maybe some other time. Listen, thank you for listening to my story.”

  “It means a lot that you felt comfortable enough to share it with me,” she said.

  “I do…feel comfortable,” he said, “but there’s one thing I don’t understand.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How is it that you believed me so easily? Most people wouldn’t.”

  Luke’s loaded question was something she wasn’t prepared to answer, so she made an excuse about not having enough time to get ready before meeting with her father and said they’d talk again later. He gave her a look to indicate his disappointment and said he hoped they could revisit the subject again the next morning.

  The more Addison thought about what had been happening since she arrived at Grayson Manor, the more curious she was about remembering the visions she’d had as a child. Had it been some kind of gift? It felt more like a curse. She didn’t want it, and she hadn’t asked for it. She didn’t even know where it came from or why. She wondered if there were others in the world like her. More than anything, she just wanted someone to make sense of it all—someone to tell her what she was meant to do, or if she was to do nothing? If that was the case, what was the point of receiving the visions at all? Did she have a role, a part to play? If so, what was it? And why hadn’t she experienced anything else for so many years? Why now?

  CHAPTER 11

  David Lockhart sat outside of the Bella Italia restaurant on an uncomfortable iron bench and waited. His daughter, Addy, was already ten minutes late. This fact didn’t surprise him in the least. She was frequently late. In fact, he couldn’t recall her ever arriving on time for anything in her life.

  He shoved a hand in his pocket, running his fingers over an envelope he’d received in the mail a week earlier. He’d debated the contents of the letter for several days, not knowing whether it was time to come clean and reveal the truth to Addy or if he should honor the agreement he’d made with his wife to never speak of it. The decision wasn’t an easy one, and he’d wrestled with it on several occasions over the last few days. No matter what he decided, there would be consequences, of this he was sure. What he wasn’t sure of was which one he could live with. He’d never fully agreed with his wife’s decision to keep things from Addy, but as long as she’d been alive, he went along with it anyway. It made her happy, and he liked keeping people happy.

  David had kept in touch with Addy every day since his wife’s death, always worrying about her decision to seclude herself in a new place where she had no friends and no family. He believed it was temporary and that she was just running away. Once she had time to adjust to her mother’s death, he hoped she’d return home where she belonged. His wife’s death had skewered him like the pointy tip of a bull’s horn, leaving a permanent scar on his heart, a constant reminder that wouldn’t ever go away—not completely.

  Over the past weeks, he’d pondered a lot about his life, taking heed of the not-so-gentle reminder that things can ch
ange at any time. His beautiful, loving wife was gone, and he was left to face life alone, without her. He hadn’t been ready.

  From a parking lot across the street, Addy came into view. He practically leapt off the bench and rushed over to greet her. “I’m so happy to see you, Addy.” He clutched her with both hands, pulling her into his chest.

  “Dad, I’ve really missed you.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Are you doing all right?”

  He draped an arm around her, and they walked into the restaurant. “Better. I drop by the cemetery and visit your mother’s grave on my way home from work each day. Probably seems like a silly thing to do, but telling her about my day keeps her with me somehow.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I think you should visit Mom as much as you need to. One day, you’ll be able to let go. It doesn’t have to be today.”

  It had been a few short weeks since he’d seen his daughter, but she looked different somehow, older, as if she’d aged a few years in a matter of weeks. Dark circles masked her tired eyes. He wanted to take her back with him, take her home, look after her. But he knew she would never allow that. She’d do her best to convince him she was strong and not the dwindling flame standing before him.

  They were led to a booth and seated.

  “So, do you like it here?” he asked.

  “I’m glad I’m out of the city.”

  “How’s the house?”

  She paused several seconds before responding.

  “Different than what I thought it would be.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “Have you ever been to the manor before?”

  “No, why?”

  “When I told you it had been left to me in mom’s will, you were startled.”

  “I’ll admit it. I was. I mean, I knew it existed, but your mother hated living in that house.”

  Her face tightened. “Do you know why?”

  “All I know is that she felt it was filled with bad memories.”

  “But she was so young when she left there. It’s hard for me to believe she remembered much of anything.”

  “How did you know she moved away as a child?” he asked.

  “The neighbor, a Helen something. She never actually told me her last name when we met. She said she used to watch Mom sometimes when she was a child.”

  Her father stiffened; his gaze shifting from her to the napkin in front of him. “Your mother didn’t like talking about her childhood much. I only know that when her father left, she blamed her mother for everything—for the divorce, for taking her away from her friends, and for all the moving around they did. Her life was never the same after that. Marjorie moved them from town to town, always making the same promise—that this time they’d settle down. Then your mother would return home after a day at school and she’d find their bags packed and the car running.”

  “No wonder they didn’t have a good relationship. Did you know her?”

  “Marjorie?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “We met briefly,” he said. “She came to our wedding. Tried to give your mother her wedding ring. She wouldn’t take it. Marjorie begged her; she said she’d do anything to start over again and make things right. But your mother—well, she didn’t want any part of it, and I couldn’t blame her.”

  “Did Mom ever look for her father?”

  “No. I even suggested it to her once, saying I’d hire a private investigator. I figured after you were born, she might be open to the idea. She wasn’t.”

  The waiter delivered the food and they spent the next several minutes in silence. The look of longing and loss in Addy’s eyes mimicked his own. It troubled him to see her in so much pain. She tried to hide it with a slight grin and an upbeat tone, but he wasn’t convinced. She twisted several noodles around her fork and then released them, watching them spill back onto the plate. “Addy, are you sure you’re all right? What’s troubling you?”

  She cleared her throat, sat up, and looked at him. “I need to ask you something.”

  “Anything.”

  “Do you remember Natalie?”

  David’s face felt cold and clammy like he’d just been stuck in a freezer. He set down his fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and laced his fingers together on top of the table. “I wondered if this would ever get brought up again. Why now?”

  “I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately.”

  “Maybe your mother’s accident elicited feelings you haven’t thought about in a long time. Could that be it?”

  “After I told Mom what I saw the day I was at Natalie’s house, she asked me never to talk about it again. Do you remember?”

  Of course he remembered. “We were just worried about you.”

  “It was more than that—you didn’t believe me, Dad. Neither one of you did.”

  He reached across the table, placing a hand on top of hers. “Who says I didn’t?”

  “The two of you put me in counseling. If that doesn’t scream ‘non-believer,’ I don’t know what does.”

  “We never meant to disregard your feelings, honey. I’m sure they were very real at the time. I still remember the look on your face when you told me. You were so certain. And then it happened. Natalie fell from the swing to her death. I didn’t know what to think. Truth is, it scared me, and I could tell it scared you too. I didn’t want you to go through life like that.”

  “So you ignored it?”

  Her father glanced to the side, speaking to the air. “I’ll never forget the day I got the phone call from Natalie’s parents. I didn’t want to believe it was true.”

  “Didn’t it make you wonder how I was able to predict something before it ever happened?”

  “When you fainted at the birthday party, I’d believed for a brief moment you were granted the ability to see into the future, but that was a fluke, like some kind of a dream or a premonition. I didn’t want you dwelling on the death of that little girl for the rest of your life.”

  “Is that why you made me shut it out? Did you ever think that if something had been done—like the tree swing had been removed—Natalie might be alive today?”

  “When it’s your time to go, it’s your time,” he said. “Death would have come some other way…if not from the swing, maybe a sickness of some kind. You can’t cheat death.”

  “I don’t believe you. It was a warning. I could have helped her.”

  He leaned forward. “Honey, neither of us knows why you saw what you did. Your mother and I made a decision to put you in counseling so that you could move on from what happened. So you could be a kid. Besides, you never saw anything after that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you would have mentioned it to us,” he said.

  “After what I was put through, why would I?”

  He released her hand. It couldn’t be true, could it? “What are you saying?”

  “Natalie wasn’t the only vision I ever had. There were others.”

  David slid his hand back in his pocket again, running the thin paper through his fingers. Was it time? He was unsure. “Did you tell anyone about the other things you saw?”

  She hung her head, staring into the napkin folded over her lap. “I knew no one would believe me if I did.”

  “Oh, Addy. How long has this been going on? How many times?”

  “After Natalie died, there were visions of other people I’d never seen before. They all came one right after the other.”

  “How long did this go on?” he asked.

  “When I started seeing the counselor, it all stopped.”

  “He obviously helped you in some way.”

  But he knew better. Counseling hadn’t helped her, it had hurt her, and he was to blame. He’d already lost his wife. He wasn’t ready to lose his daughter too. He released the letter back into his pocket, tucked safely away. Revealing its contents would have to wait.

  After dinner they walked in silence back to her car. There was so much more he wanted to
say, but somehow couldn’t find the right way to say it. She unlocked the door, leaned over, and kissed her father on the cheek. “I love you, Dad. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  CHAPTER 12

  Addison’s drive home was filled with haunted memories of the time she’d spent in a dimly lit room under the watchful, hawk-like eye of Doctor Death. Back then, his mere presence stifled her, producing a lasting effect that had removed her visions altogether. And as much as she loved her father, the thought that he had sent her to that doctor pained her to this day. She shook her head back and forth trying to shake the unwelcome memories away and shift the focus to the here and now. Presently, the here and now was sitting on the top step of the front porch looking forlorn.

  “What are you doing here, Luke? I thought you’d be gone by now.”

  “I wanted to make sure you made it home okay. Besides, you said your father was going back home tonight, so I didn’t think it would bother you if I came back and finished up a couple things.”

  She nudged past him and looked around. “What things? The house looks the same way it did when I left. What couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  He walked up behind her. “I’m going to tell you something. Promise me you won’t be mad, okay?”

  His face, the perfect combination of guilt and concern, was easy to read. Still, she didn’t know what he could have done to cause anger to swell within her. And then came a moment of complete clarity and somehow she just knew. Addison crossed the room, flinging open the door to the room at the end of the hall. Her eyes darted around, searching for the white box. It was gone.

  “I was waiting for you to come home so we could talk about this.” Luke entered the room, box in hand.

  “Give that to me!” She snatched the closed box from his hands.

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I know I didn’t have any right—”

  “I want you to leave.”

  “Addison, if I could just—”

  “Get out!” she said, pointing.

  “I really am sorry,” he said, walking away.

  Addison froze. “Did you touch it?”