Mysteries of Holt House - A Mystery (16 page)

BOOK: Mysteries of Holt House - A Mystery
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Well, I’ve had it for tonight,” Richard
said. “This heat really takes it out of a person. It’s drained me. I’d like to
find some little hole in the wall where it’s cool.”

Mike and I looked at each other. Did
Richard know something, or was his reference just a figure of speech? If he
knew something, he certainly wouldn’t expect anyone else to know what he was
referring to.

Before long the rest of the group wandered
in, one or two at a time. The only one we didn’t see was Josh, and we knew
where he was.

Mike stood and held his hand out to me.
“Let’s go for that swim. I’ll go put on my trunks.”

“I’ll go put on my suit and meet you out
by the pool.” I knew after everything that had happened we needed some time for
relaxation. Maybe if we slowed down for a while we’d be able to see more
clearly.

We hung out around the pool for about an
hour. We swam, and played a little, too. Of course we dunked and splashed each
other, all the while trying to keep the noise down. We hung onto the edge of
the pool while we whispered and laughed. I had a great time, and he appeared to
be enjoying himself, too.

Lucy and Josh strolled by and waved at us.

“Getting a bit too windy for us,” Josh
said. “Goin’ inside.”

I hadn’t noticed the wind come up, but it
had. It looked like it might build to a major blow. Northern Nevada had some
pretty wild windstorms, although people from other parts of the country didn’t
know that.

“I guess it’s about time for us to go in,
too,” I said, reluctantly.

Mike put his arm around me, one arm still
holding onto the edge of the pool, and held me close, kissing me. Was it the
cooling wind against my wet skin or his kiss that gave me goose bumps?

“Let’s go in,” he said.

We climbed out of the pool and I bent over
to pick up my towel. Mike flicked my backside with his own towel.

“Hey, that stung,” I said, laughing.

“It was supposed to.”

I took him by surprise and pushed him back
into the pool. He tried to grab my leg and pull me in, but I was too fast for
him. He climbed out and we dried off before returning to the house where we
relaxed in the kitchen with a glass of lemonade.

I didn’t want to break the mood, but I had
to. “Well, it’s getting late. I guess I’d better call it a night. I’ve got to
get up early tomorrow.”

“I know. One last kiss and I’ll tell you
good-night.” He pulled me into his arms.

“See you in the morning,” I whispered,
reluctantly pulling away from him.

I strolled to my bedroom and changed for
bed. The wind had picked up as I thought it would, and it kept me awake for a
while. I was jumpy and kept thinking I heard noises. Soon my thoughts took a
turn and I couldn’t quit thinking about Mike. Unfortunately, that added to my
temporary insomnia. It took some time, but I finally drifted off.

A loud noise jolted me out of my sleep. I
sat up and listened. It was a shutter banging against the house. I glanced at
the clock and saw it was almost two o’clock.

I groaned before I sighed and sat up. “I
don’t want to get up.”

Dragging myself out of bed, I tripped and
groaned as I landed hard on my knees. I pulled myself up and got my robe,
sighing and trying to figure out where the banging was coming from. The sound seemed
to be coming from upstairs.

While I climbed up the stairs the cobwebs
fell away from my brain and it struck me that the noise would be coming from
the third floor. If it was on the second floor, one of the boarders would have
taken care of it. So I trudged on up to the third floor. I knew it had to be
one of the vacant rooms. As I listened, it seemed the banging was coming from
the second room on the left – the room where I discovered the seams in the
wall.

Opening the door, I walked in and opened
the window to reach out and pull the shutter in. I leaned out, and as I tried
to get hold of the shutter something in my peripheral vision made me glance
down. What happened next felt like slow motion.

Ruth was leaning out of her window. At
first I thought she was reaching for her shutter, just as I was doing. Then I
saw a pair of hands on her back. I couldn’t tell if they were pushing her or
pulling her back in, but I thought it looked like she might be struggling.
There was a horrible, panicky scream and I saw Ruth fall, landing on the patio.

A scream caught in my throat at the sight
of her lying there, broken and twisted. All I could feel was disbelief. Then I
began to shake violently, my teeth chattering. I hugged myself and turned from the
window, nausea welling up in me.

I got hold of myself, ran out of the room
and down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Maybe she wasn’t dead. Maybe
she could still be helped. Maybe, maybe, maybe. I heard voices, lots of
confused and sleepy voices.

“What was that?” someone asked.

“I heard a scream.” A scared voice.

I reached the second floor, practically
flying by this time, and Mike was coming out of his room looking as sleepy and
confused as everyone else.

“What’s going on?” he asked, grabbing my arm.

“It’s Ruth. She fell out of her window,” I
said, pulling away from him and continuing down the stairs. He followed me,
suddenly wide awake. He passed me on the stairs and reached the patio before I
did.

“Mike?”

“Stay there! Go call 9-1-1. Tell them there’s
been an accident and we need an ambulance and the police.”

I ran into the house and made the call.
I’m not sure I made a lot of sense, but they said they’d get someone out to the
house as fast as possible. Slamming down the phone, I ran back to the patio.

By that time everyone was there. Mike was
telling them to keep back. He said she was dead. “Does anyone know what
happened?” he asked.

“I do,” I said, quietly. I had him follow
me into the house so I could tell the story without anyone hearing me. Because
of the hands I’d seen, it could be murder and I thought it would be best to
wait for the police before saying anything in front of the others.

After about twenty minutes before we heard
the wail of the sirens. One of the pitfalls of living so far out of town was it
took forever to get help, or so it seemed.

The police took reports from all of us
while their technicians did their job, and eventually they took her body away.
They investigated the area where she fell, and her room, and by early morning
determined it had been an accident. Each boarder said, of course, they’d been
sleeping. The police reasoned I’d been half asleep and it was dark, and I’d
imagined seeing those hands. There was no evidence to the contrary. They said
she’d probably been doing exactly the same thing I was, reaching for a shutter
to close it, but leaned out too far and lost her balance. I couldn’t convince
them otherwise, even though the shutter at her window was held tightly in
place. They said someone must have fixed it after her fall. It was frustrating
because I
knew
I’d seen a pair of hands, but they wouldn’t believe me.
There was no physical evidence to substantiate my story.

I made up my mind that when Mike and I
went out to dinner I’d discuss it further with him. I didn’t care about the
lack of evidence. I was absolutely positive someone had been there. I knew what
I’d seen and no one could convince me I was wrong. I knew Mike would listen to
me.

I started shaking again.

 

Chapter Twenty

The police didn’t leave until around
six-thirty on the morning Ruth Bell died. Most of the boarders went back to bed
to try to get more sleep, but I figured it was a lost cause. As for me, I was
too wound up to even
try
to sleep.

Mike had gone upstairs to shower. I walked
back outside and sat down, unable to take my eyes off the spot where Ruth’s
body had lain. The police had taken so many pictures of her body. The blood
stain where she’d hit her head was distinct.

Could I have done anything to prevent her
fall? I knew I couldn’t have reached her in time, but it seemed like I should
have tried. Maybe if I’d moved quickly I could have at least seen who came out
of her room.

Richard English sat down in the chair next
to me, startling me. I hadn’t heard him walk up behind me.

“Not much of a loss, is it?” he asked.


What
did you say?” My reaction was
half anger and half shock. I couldn’t believe he’d said something so
cold-hearted.

“Well, you have to admit there’s no great
loss. I mean, she was a real mouse. Always slinking around and never saying a
word to anyone. She was afraid of her own shadow. I was worried if I looked at
her wrong she’d fall over in a dead faint.”


Mr.
English, if you wish to vacate
your room after I have my say, then by all means do so,” I said, venom dripping
from my words. “I won’t have any objections. Not one. But you are absolutely
the rudest, crudest, most disgusting man I’ve ever met in my life! You have no
feelings and no compassion for other people. You make me sick.”

I even surprised myself with my vehemence,
but I’d meant every word and wouldn’t take anything back.

 A look of shock and anger crossed
his face, but I only saw a flash of it. He quickly regained his composure and
laughed at me.

“I didn’t think you had it in you. You’re not
as much of a wimp as I thought you were,” he said, looking speculative.

“You’re disgusting!” I started to turn my
back on him, but having second thoughts I stopped and glared at him. I had a
feeling it might not be a good idea to turn one’s back on this man.

“You’re a little cutie,” he replied,
laughing at me again. “Oh, and by the way, I’m not moving out. I like the
scenery around here way too much to leave.”

He stared at me, and I continued to glare
at him. We were mentally drawing lines in the dirt, and both of us knew it. I
wondered who would cross the line first.

“I may
order
you to leave if you
can’t keep your remarks to yourself. We’re talking about a human being here. A
thinking, feeling human being. Ruth may have been an introvert, but she was a
nice person.
She
never had a bad thing to say about anyone, unlike you.
I liked her. She had more decency in her little finger than you’ll ever have in
your entire body.” I began to cry, which annoyed me. I didn’t want him to think
he’d gotten to me.

“Okay, Kelly. I didn’t mean to make you
cry,” Richard said. He was patting me on the back, but I could hear the mirth
in his voice. He still wanted to laugh, and that made me even angrier.

“Get your hand off me.” I shrugged his
hand my back. What a
jerk
.

He stood up. “I’ll leave you to your
tears.” He watched me for a moment before he walked away.

“It’s still no great loss,” I heard him
mumble. “She was such a zero.”

Not one word I’d said seemed to have any
effect on him, other than to amuse him. What kind of man was this who could
treat a tragic death so lightly?

I felt a presence and glanced back toward
the house. Richard was still there, standing by the patio door. The look of
hatred and rage on his face was startling. I half expected him to bare his teeth
and snarl at me. All pretenses were temporarily set aside. As fast as I saw the
look, it disappeared and an amiable expression took its place. His face
softened and he smiled as he turned and walked around the corner of the house,
whistling while he walked. He frightened me. Maybe I really should send him
packing. But then, maybe I should keep him where I could watch him.

I cried again. Poor, quiet little Ruth.
Why her? It just wasn’t fair. Why would anyone want to kill her? I couldn’t
think of one good reason and began to doubt myself. No one seemed to believe me
anyway, and there wasn’t any evidence of foul play. There was only my word that
I’d seen someone push her.

I heard the kitchen door open and turned
to see Mike coming toward me.

“You’ve been sitting here for a long time.
Why don’t you come inside and have something to eat? It might make you feel
better.”

“Did Lucy send you?” I asked.

“No. I thought food might help. It always
seems to make me feel better.” I was sure that wasn’t true, but his thoughtfulness
was touching.

“Thanks for the thought, but I’m not
hungry. Food doesn’t sound very good right now. Maybe later.”

“You’d better get hold of yourself. There
are things to be taken care of around here. I know you’re upset, but so is
everyone else.”

“Not quite everyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Richard English seems to think it’s all a
big joke. You should have heard him a few minutes ago. He’s probably the one
who pushed her.”

“Kelly, don’t start making accusations.
You know what an ass he is. Try ignoring him and maybe he’ll go away.”

“Easier said than done. I ended up telling
him off, practically kicking him out of the house, and I wish you could have
seen his face afterwards when he thought I wasn’t looking. It was frightening.”

Other books

My Daylight Monsters by Dalton, Sarah
Dreamrider by Barry Jonsberg
The Beach Hut Next Door by Veronica Henry
Ha! by Scott Weems
The Lost Painting by Jonathan Harr
Mum's the Word by Dorothy Cannell
Somebody's Daughter by Marie Myung-Ok Lee