Fallen Stones (25 page)

The unexpected awareness of the well and its apparent history caused Stephanie to feel extremely uneasy. At first, she assumed it was because as a concerned mother, she felt its low-walled construction and open top was such that it did little to prevent a young child from climbing up and falling inside to his death. But there was more to her concern that just safety. She didn't understand why she seemed to know about the age of the well and had no idea why the fact that the well had existed for so many centuries bothered her. After all, if what she thought turned out to be true, so what? It was just an old well. Of course it was built to last, and if constructed properly might it not be expected to last for many hundreds of years?

"You...said the well did exist...at one time... Is the well still here?" Stephanie asked the lawyer with obvious concern. "I mean is it still on the property somewhere? I wouldn't want such a potentially dangerous thing around, you know, not with my young children."

Armstrong assured her, "Not to worry, Stephanie. County records show the well was filled in with dirt and stone more than fifty years ago. In fact, I would be hard pressed to even begin to try to find the location of where it originally stood. Apparently, the well had been on the property for several centuries. You see, your great-grandparents were not the first to build on this land."

"Yes, I know," Stephanie said without thinking.

The lawyer got a startled look and asked with surprise, "You know? I don't understand. What do you mean you know?" As a lawyer, he was accustomed to listening closely to people. He naturally focused on nuances in speech, as well as changes in timbre and tone. Most people tended to ignore such things, but this was one of the talents, which made him so good at what he did.

Stephanie realized her mistake and saw Armstrong looking at her with concern. Jason, too, was looking at her strangely. The truth was she honestly didn't know anything about the property. She thought at first she had just had some type of epiphany, some mysterious understanding and awakening, but it was likely more imagination than revelation.

"No... I don't mean I actually know," she corrected. "How could I possibly know? What I meant is I understand how such a thing would be possible. You know, how a well could last through many generations. I suppose I simply misspoke because I was distracted, thinking of my concern about the danger and my children."

Feeling more at ease, the lawyer said, "Well...you won't have to worry about your kids. I assure you this place is about as safe as you can get."

Stephanie no longer wanted to think about what she had just imagined. She needed to take her mind off the well and think about something else. Armstrong had been talking about the tub and heating water over the fire. Looking more closely at the large fireplace she began to think about what a hassle it must have been to carry in bucket after bucket of water. Then the water had to be heated over the fireplace and then dumped into the tub. She had to assume by the time someone got the tub filled and crawled inside the water temperature might be tepid at best. Next, she thought about attempting such a feat in the middle of winter and could not even imagine how it might have been accomplished at the turn of the twentieth century.

 As if following the same train of Armstrong said “We can only assume they had servants to fetch the water and not only heat it but to keep refreshing it so it stayed warm. I'm quite certain that original fireplace got quite the workout in its day."

Stephanie said, "The fireplace certainly is quite beautiful."

The lawyer continued, "Yes, I must agree. However, the original was practically in ruins at the time Mr. Washburn bought the property, as was most of the building itself. During the restoration, we had the fireplace equipped to handle either wood or natural gas, whichever you so desire.”

"Natural gas?" Jason asked. "I never thought to ask how the house was heated. I assumed either electric or oil heat."

"No. Neither of those," the lawyer said. "Water, sewer and cable TV are the only services the property does not have access to. However, since it has a well, sand mound and satellite TV service, you are set. It does however have electric and natural gas service provided by public utilities. The gas company ran a line along the roadway a few decades ago, and Mr. Washburn had them tap into it and run a line up to the main house.

“Then he had another gas line run out here from the main house along with the appropriate plumbing. As you will eventually learn, there is also plenty of loose wood available around the property for burning if you prefer and of course, if you choose to take the time to gather, split and cut it.

"However, you no longer need to rely on the fireplace for heating purposes. It is simply here for ambiance. The entire building is well-insulated, and the heat is controlled by that thermostat mounted over there along that wall." He pointed to the device.

As Stephanie and Jason's attention was diverted to the thermostat, Armstrong found himself involuntarily looking over at the sparkling bathtub, once again thinking about a time when the tub was not nearly so elegant. He thought about the hideous ruby red splattered sight he had been forced to witness when Washburn had practically ripped himself to pieces, turning the bathtub into an enormous caldron of bloody human debris; a veritable consommé of gore.

Prior to the Wright family's visit, Armstrong had made sure any residue from the melted candles, not to mention the bloody remnants from Washburn's suicide, had been appropriately cleaned up and the tub returned to its original luster. He doubted even a team of forensic investigators could find any trace evidence of the horror which had occurred there. Armstrong had actually hired both the aforementioned handyman Wilbur Franks and his wife Constance to do the cleanup.

Armstrong was quite certain Franks and his wife could be trusted to keep their mouths shut about the messy situation for as long as he needed them to. That was one of the reasons he had also recommended the couple to the Wrights. He was formulating a plan for the Franks to be his eyes and ears on the property, so he could be kept informed as to what might be transpiring in his absence.

The lawyer and Wilbur Franks had a history, a very convenient history. In addition to being people he occasionally hired for odd jobs, the Franks were also Armstrong's clients, of sort. Several years earlier, Wilbur Franks had been charged with a minor drunk and disorderly infraction after an evening of too much revelry and found himself spending the night in one of the two cells the Ashton jail had to offer. Armstrong had smoothed things over with Chief of Police, Max Seiler, and had managed to get Franks off with just a slap on the wrist. Although extremely grateful, Franks didn't have the money to pay Armstrong for his services, so the lawyer made sure he took advantage of this unpaid debt whenever he found it convenient. Yes, Armstrong knew the Franks would both stay quiet and would also be sure to keep him informed.

Armstrong had often fancied himself a bit of a chess player as far as the game of life was concerned, although in reality, he had never actually played the game of chess, nor did he even know the rules. It was simply a euphemism, which he liked to use, to describe how he applied his manipulative skills in his daily activities. He once heard someone say a good chess player always thinks five moves ahead of his opponent. That was how Armstrong thought. He suspected if he ever took the time to actually learn the game of chess, he would quickly become quite proficient at it.

He prided himself on how, as a lawyer, he had been able to outwit virtually every opponent he encountered by anticipating the next several moves they would most likely make. This skill always worked for him whenever he needed to outsmart the living. But now, although he was unsure, he prayed his skills would not fail him when trying to outmaneuver the dead. This had become especially important, given his current predicament. He had found himself trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place as far as Emerson Washburn was concerned, and he could only hope his skills were such that he could find a way to get himself out from under the thumb of the vile specter.

As Stephanie looked about the inside of the spa, she observed how the triangular zigzag patterns of the woodwork and the various wall-size mirrors created an almost fun-house type of illusion. Several times, she felt as if someone was watching her, but when she turned in that particular direction she would see only her own reflection and sometimes that of Armstrong or Jason. Then she would sense the feeling from another direction and each time she looked, the result was always the same. No one was there, yet she felt as if she were being observed. It was all so very strange and creepy. She was thankful the large stone fireplace and the entrance to the building took up two of the six walls. She was not exactly sure what she would do to change the interior decor of the building, but she was quite certain at some point, the mirrors would have to go.

Jason noticed Stephanie looking strangely at the mirrors and asked her, "What do you think of all these mirrors, Steph? Kind of kinky, don't you think?" He gave her a knowing wink. She knew, as always, Jason was thinking with the wrong head and was likely imagining some type of sexual fantasy scenario in which the two of them would share a hot bath surrounded by their own reflections. Unfortunately for Jason and his misguided imaginings, the mirrors made her feel anything but sexy. In fact, they were really starting to bother her. Jason was going to have to give up on this particular dream; as far as she was concerned, the mirrors were history.

"If I'm ever going to come out here for a bath, I'm going to have to lose a few pounds and tone up a bit," Stephanie joked, hoping to discourage her husband, as she looked around at the bothersome mirrors. She was imagining with discomfort seeing various views of herself naked and recalling how she had not yet gotten back in fighting shape since giving birth to Sammy.

The lawyer interjected, "Nonsense, Stephanie. Don't be so hard on yourself. Just imagine what an old fat fossil like me would look like standing here in my altogether." Then he hesitated for a moment, feigned embarrassment, chuckled and said, "On second thought, you might not want to do that." They all laughed at Armstrong's self-deprecating comment and whatever tension Stephanie was feeling began to disappear.

Stephanie genuinely liked Armstrong. The lawyer seemed so friendly and easy going, she couldn't help but trust him completely. She noticed how Jason even seemed to be warming up somewhat to the man. This was quite unusual for her husband as he was not a fan of lawyers in general. She didn't know why he felt that way, perhaps because of his divorce; she had met many men who had gone through messy divorces and suddenly found themselves hating lawyers. She didn't know if this was the case with Jason.

But she recalled how he often enjoyed telling whatever the latest hot lawyer joke might be, which he and his coworkers were sharing. One of his favorites had always been "Why do they bury lawyers ten feet underground instead of six? Because deep down they're good people." She felt a bit guilty about that joke when she looked over at the lawyer. He seemed to be sincere and to be doing everything in his power to make things easy for them.

However, if Stephanie actually knew what was going on behind the scenes in this sinister life-play and the complicit role her supposedly trustworthy lawyer had assumed in the deception, she would not feel so kindly toward the man. Although his participation might not be completely of his own free will, there was enough of his personal greed involved in the process to make him more than just a mere pawn.

H. Mason Armstrong was a skilled manipulator and was equally proficient at hiding his treachery, which currently lurked just below the surface of his amiable facade. Neither Stephanie nor even the normally suspicious Jason had been able to see the truth. However, young Sammy had seen it. The young boy with his special intuition had sensed something was not right with the lawyer. But he was much too young to know what it was, or to explain it in words even if he were able to understand. He simply knew there was something about the man he didn't like.

As they continued to walk around and study the room, they suddenly heard a frantic cry coming from outside. It was Jeremy shouting. "Mom! Dad! Come out here. Hurry!"

Reacting with the urgency born of parenthood, the couple raced immediately from the spa. Stephanie looked instinctively in the direction of the meadow while Jason looked back toward the swimming pool. They were expecting to find one of the kids injured or worse as parents always do, but were both surprised to see the three children standing in front of a cluster of low bushes along a wooded area near the back of the property hand in hand, their backs to the couple, resembling three cutout dolls of decreasing size joined in a line.

By the time Jason and Stephanie reached their children, they were both out of breath. Being an overweight and dangerously out of shape man, Armstrong had chosen to stay behind and was standing on the walkway outside of the spa. He shielded his eyes from the sun to try to see what was going on in the distance, not wanting to risk a heart attack by racing over to the scene. He had considered walking over to meet the group but decided instead to stay right where he was. Better safe than sorry.

The three kids were still standing holding each other's hands tightly and staring out into a small area of underbrush just outside of the woods. None of them appeared to be injured or in any danger. Jeremy and Cindy stood staring as if transfixed, a mixture of fear and disgust visible on their faces. Sammy however wore a completely different expression than the other two children. Although he too was staring into space, he did not look frightened or upset, he looked contented and at peace. It was as if he were seeing something completely different than his brother and sister were seeing.

Jason looked at Sammy and saw the boy's slightly smiling lips moving slowly. Although he could not hear what, if anything the boy might be saying, he could almost read the child's small lips. Sammy seemed to be repeating something over and over; a word that started with the letter "b". Jason knew Sammy's young vocabulary was very limited so he began to mentally race through a list of b-words he recalled which Sammy knew. He immediately recalled, "big", "boy", "bad" and a few others but was not sure which he might be saying. Regardless, Jason could not comprehend why Sammy looked so happy while Jeremy and Cindy looked so horrified.