Out of the Shadows (Bellingwood Book 12) (6 page)

Andrew looked at Rebecca. "Kids were talking about it. Someone said that it would be a good idea to hang sheets from the trees and make them look like ghosts."

"Who in the world said that?" Polly asked.

He gave her a weak smile. "Me."

She couldn't help herself and laughed out loud. "Did anyone else at school think that was a good idea?"

"Not really," he said.

"So you lied to Polly again," Henry said, his voice lower and quieter than usual.

"We're sorry," Rebecca said. "We just had to go to the Springer House and see if it was true. There were a bunch of kids that were going to meet up there today. We thought it had to be safe in the middle of the afternoon."

"How many are a bunch of you?" Polly asked, her hand still rubbing Henry's leg. He put his hand on top of hers and gripped her fingers. This dad thing was going to be hard for him. He'd only seen Rebecca's acquiescent, obedient side. Polly was going to have to remind him that she was still a kid and there were going to be plenty of things she did that would make him mad as hell.

No, she'd have a talk with Marie and see if maybe his mother could remind him what he and Lonnie had been like at this age. Polly knew for a fact that they were as normal as anyone could be.

"Maybe six or seven," Rebecca responded. "Some didn't show up."

"So you met at the Springer House this afternoon and spent three hours there and broke a window?"

"No, we didn't spend the whole afternoon there. We went to the coffee shop first to meet. We were all supposed to get there by two o'clock. Some of them were late, though and we didn't leave until like three or something. And then because we didn't get started on time, everybody else had to go home, so it was just us."

"Just the three of you?" Polly asked.

Rebecca nodded. "We packed flashlights and stuff. First we went to Andrew's house and got a pair of hedge clippers. That yard is way grown over. When we tried the gate the last time, we couldn't get it open. We had to cut some of the bushes. That took forever. I don't think anyone has been in there in seventy years."

Henry took a breath to speak and Polly squeezed his hand.

"Go on," Polly said.

"Have you seen that place?" Andrew asked. "Like up close? There are boards on the windows and the porch is sagging and it looks like there is an old garage, but there are vines all over it. It is one creepy building. If someone cleaned up the yard and did something about the house, it would look cool. It’s huge – like a mansion."

Polly put her hand up to stop him. "How did you break a window if they were boarded up? And for that matter, how could you see a ghost if you can't see in the windows?"

"I broke the window," Kayla whispered. "I'll pay for it."

"We walked around the front of the house," Rebecca said. "And there are windows in the upstairs that don't have boards anymore. But the door on the breezeway wasn’t boarded up either."

Kayla continued for her. "I didn't mean to break it. I was shining the flashlight into the room, trying to see and I thought something moved. I jumped and the flashlight hit the window and it broke."

"That's when we ran," Andrew said. "But when nobody came out and chased us, we went back and looked in. I tried to open the door and it's locked. Rebecca wouldn't let me pull on it. She said we were probably in enough trouble since the window was broken."

"Did you see the ghost?" Polly took her hand back from Henry and rubbed it against her other hand, trying to restore blood flow. He'd finally relaxed again.

"I saw a white dress in the upstairs window," Rebecca said. "It had to have been her. There was dust on the front porch and nobody had been on the back steps either. So it couldn't be a person. It has to be a ghost."

"How about you two?" Henry asked. "Did you see the ghost?"

"I was busy looking inside," Andrew said. "By the time Rebecca showed me which window to look in, she was gone."

"And you, Kayla?" Polly asked.

She shook her head. "I was too scared. I just wanted to leave."

"Are we in big trouble?" Rebecca asked. "It's all my fault. They shouldn't be in trouble. I'm the one who wanted to go up there today and I'm the one who wanted to go up there the other day, too."

Polly and Henry looked at each other. If he was thinking what she was thinking, it was that neither of them knew quite how to set a punishment for something as silly as this. He nodded at her. Great. This was her job.

"Here's what I expect you to do. Kayla and Andrew, you have to tell Stephanie and Sylvie the whole story. Not part of it, the whole thing. If they want to punish you for any part of it, that's up to them. And trust me, you don't want them to hear this story from me, am I right?"

They nodded enthusiastically.

"Rebecca," Polly continued. "There will be consequences for lying to us in the first place. They're somewhat mitigated by the fact that you're telling us everything now. We will discuss that later. As for the window, Henry will check into it. We have no idea who owns the house or what will be done about it. If we have to replace the window, the three of you will work off the cost. Sound fair?"

Andrew took a deep breath and slumped back on the couch. "I thought we were dead meat," he said.

CHAPTER SIX

Soaking rain poured out of the sky as they got ready for their Monday morning and Polly drove Rebecca the few blocks to school. She watched her daughter run for the front door, then turn and wave before going in. These little moments still pulled at her heart strings.

Hayden had brought Heath back to Bellingwood last night and though he couldn't stay for dinner, came up for a few minutes to hear the story Polly told to Heath about her encounter with the dead body on Saturday. News had traveled fast, getting to them in Ames early Saturday evening.

Since Hayden hadn't been there since before school started, Heath showed him the property. Polly watched the brothers walk through the back yard from her bedroom window. Heath had playfully shoved his brother and Hayden returned it by wrestling him to the ground. Polly backed away from the window so they wouldn't catch her spying on that relaxed moment. There hadn't been enough of those in the last few years for either one of them.

After Hayden left, Heath listened as Rebecca described the haunted house to him, actually involving himself in the conversation. Polly hoped that was the beginning of positive change for him.

This morning, though, he'd returned to his quiet, uninvolved personality, eating breakfast and then hiding in his room until it was time for the bus to arrive.

Polly drove away from the elementary school and headed straight for the Springer House. She had to see this place for herself. She'd driven past it once or twice, but it was off any major road, so she'd never spent much time looking at it. When she turned the corner, she laughed out loud and pushed a button on her dash.

"What's up, hotstuff?" Henry asked after answering the phone.

"I'm right behind you. What are you doing over here?"

"What?" he asked with a laugh. "I'm at the office."

"Liar, liar," she said. Polly pulled up beside him on the street and lowered her passenger window, waiting for his to open.

"It's raining. I'd rather talk to you on the phone," he said, brushing raindrops off his shirt.

"Why are you here?"

"Same as you," he said. "I was looking the place over before making some phone calls. No one has thought about this house in years."

Polly pointed to the second story. A room jutted out over the main porch. "What's that room? A sun porch?"

"Probably a tuberculosis solarium. I can't believe we have one of those here in Bellingwood. This is a classic old house. How has it been ignored?"

"There's a
ghost
?" Polly said, laughing.

Henry nodded. "Actually, that's probably right. Unless they want the experience of it, people won't choose to buy a home where there's been a violent death. I'm surprised the city hasn't taken over the land and done something here. Dad and I are going to ask more questions today."

"Do you want me to do anything? I can go down to Boone and look through documents," Polly said.

"If we can't find the information in a hurry, I'll let you know."

Polly leaned on her console. "We didn't talk about Heath yet. I'm worried about him. He was doing so much better last night and then it all turned around this morning."

"It's going to take longer than a couple of months, Polly," Henry said. "He'll have ups and downs and then someday the ups will be longer than the downs and none of us will realize what kind of transformation he's made. It will just have happened."

She nodded and then shook her head. "I'm worried that it will go the other way. Or that something will trip him up before he's able to stabilize. We only have a couple of years with him and then he'll be gone."

"Stop it," Henry said. "Just because he graduates from high school doesn't mean he's going away. And don't waste the days he's with us by worrying. We'll figure out more ways to be proactive with him. This weekend was a step in the right direction. He'll take more of those."

"Whatever." Polly sat back up. He drove her crazy when he was pragmatic. Sometimes she wanted to freak out.

Henry looked over at her and smiled. "I love you, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

"And you love me."

"I know that, too." She couldn't help herself and smiled back at him. "Roll your window up. I'll talk to you tonight."

He waved as she drove off. They needed to talk more about Heath. If there was one thing Polly enjoyed doing it was connecting people with their passions. She hadn't been able to unearth what it was that Heath enjoyed. She wasn't ready to go back to Sycamore House, so drove downtown and parked in front of Sweet Beans Coffee Shop and Bakery. Caffeine would help. She'd only had one cup of coffee so far this morning.

There were a few people in the shop when she walked in. Camille had hired two other part-time employees to work early mornings during the week. Most of the retired farmers still met at Joe's Diner. They would never draw that group away from their morning watering hole, but the coffee shop was seeing increased business. Jeff and Camille had put together a nice package for teachers at the elementary school and were surprised to discover that several of them enjoyed spending late afternoon hours in the coffee shop, grading papers and writing out lesson plans.

"Hello Polly," Camille said, coming out from behind the counter. "You're here early."

Polly grinned. She usually met Joss up here early afternoon before the influx of kids at the library. "Dropped Rebecca off at school and don't feel like going back to work yet."

"May I introduce you to someone?" Camille asked.

Polly looked around the room. She recognized most everyone. "Sure," she said.

Camille led her straight to that table and said, "Polly, I'd like you to meet Jen Dykstra. She's planning to open a quilt shop next door." Camille touched the woman's shoulder. "Jen, this is Polly Giller."

The woman stood and smiled. She was in her late forties or early fifties with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. "I've been hearing all about you," she said. "Come, sit with us. We're looking over plans that Sandy sketched out. Do you two know each other? And this is Sonya Biederman." She pulled a chair out and waited for Polly to sit.

Camille smiled and leaned over. "Your regular?"

"Double shot of espresso this morning," Polly replied. "Please."

The other two women leaned forward to shake her hand and smiled at her. Sandy whoever-she-was pushed pieces of paper in front of Polly. They looked like professionally done CAD drawings of the space next door.

"Did you do this?" Polly asked.

"Architect in another life," Sandy replied. "We just had a baby and I chose to slow down until I couldn't stand it. So far, that isn't happening."

Polly had a flash of a memory. "Is your husband Benji?"

Sandy grinned. "I didn't think we'd ever met before. But yes, we're the Davis's. How do you know us?"

"You won't even believe it," Polly said, shaking her head. "Lydia Merritt had to come rescue me one day this summer and she was making a casserole for you because you'd just had the baby."

"I can't believe you remembered that."

Polly continued to shake her head. "I can't either. That was a weird day though, and sometimes little things get stuck in my head. How's the baby?"

"He's good. Benji's mother has him today so I can do this." She smiled at Jen. "It's wonderful having a grandmother available who will help out. And she’s so good with the baby. Everybody needs a grandma in their life."

"We love it as much as you do," Jen replied. She turned to Polly. "I have two little ones who come to my house in the afternoons so their mother can work. She likes being independent. I guess that's the way I raised her."

Camille put a mug in front of Polly, winked and walked away.

"I had no idea this was happening in Bellingwood," Polly said. "It's exciting."

"We've not said much to anyone in case things fell through, but we closed on the building last week and now we're ready to move forward," Jen said.

"The three of you are doing this together?" Polly asked, looking around the table.

"It's all Jen's baby," Sandy replied. "She had the idea and she's the creative one. I'm the organized one." She turned to Sonya, who had been quiet through the chatter.

"I don't know what I am," Sonya said. "But I'm having fun." Sonya Biederman was in her early sixties, with shoulder-length, silver hair. Her face still held a tan from working in the summer sun and the wrinkles around her eyes creased when she smiled.

"She's an amazing seamstress," Jen broke in. "And you should see her quilts. They’re amazing. She's going to be teaching classes. If you don't know how to sew, Sonya is the one who will give you confidence in a short period of time."

"I've never even owned a sewing machine," Polly said. "But I'd give anything to change that." She pointed at the wall. "You're moving in right next door?"

Jen nodded. "That's us. Coffee next door, pizza across the street. I'm going to have to put out hand wipes everywhere so people won't mess up the fabric."

"Are you just doing sewing and quilting or will there be other things too?" Polly asked. "We have a couple of knitting classes that meet at Sycamore House and I know they'd love to have a better place to work. Somewhere downtown and somewhere there might be an inventory of yarns and supplies. That's probably the hardest thing for them. Everyone has to always be prepared and do their craft shopping in Boone or Ames." She pursed her lips. "I was actually thinking that we should open a craft shop, but if you're doing this..." Polly let her thought trail off.

Sandy looked at the other two ladies and laughed. "We've talked about it and right now, fabric is going to take up every square inch of our space, but if we're lucky and things go well, the bay on the other side is open and we can always expand."

"Show me," Polly said, looking at the pages in front of her. She pointed at a sheet. "What's this?"

"We're going to use the second floor, but I want to open it up." Sandy pointed at the back of the shop. "We'll put stairs in the front, but an elevator back here. I know a lot of older women whose knees are shot and can't be traipsing up and down stairs for classes and fabric. They won't show up if it's uncomfortable. They can park out back, we'll put a ramp in and then they can go right up the elevator. We'll have two classrooms and then I want to cut out the floor in the middle and put a railing around it."

"That should be awesome," Polly said. "Who's doing the build-out?"

Jen Dykstra didn't miss a beat. "Well, lucky that we're chatting with you today. We've heard that Sturtz Construction is too busy to take on any new jobs."

Polly sat back, "They are? I don't think so."

"That's the word around town," Sandy replied.

"Let me ask the horse," Polly said and took out her phone. She stood up and walked toward the front door and watched the rain come down.

"Hello, sweet thing," Henry said.

"Are you too busy for new work?" she asked.

"Uhh, what?"

"I'm at the coffee shop, talking to three women who bought the space next door and want to build out a quilt shop. They said you're too busy to take on anything new."

"Oh. Well, yeah. We're busy."

Polly shook her head. "That makes no sense to me. It's just construction. Hire more workers and take on more jobs."

"And then what am I supposed to do with them when the work goes away?" he asked.

"Okay, I suppose you know your business. It seems a shame to let a job like this flutter away."

She heard him heave a deep sigh. "You're going to be the death of me. Who is it that you're talking to?"

"Jen Dykstra, Sandy Davis and Sonya Biederman."

"That explains where the money's coming from."

"Which one?" Polly asked.

"Dykstras and Biedermans. There's a lot of money there. I don't know Sandy Davis. Unless she's married to..."

"Benji," Polly said.

He chuckled. "For heaven's sake. Benji Davis." Henry laughed again.

"What's so funny?"

"I went to school with him. He's a good guy. Didn't think he'd make much of himself, but he surprised us all. He's a lawyer in Ames. I heard he met his wife in college. She's not from around here. I didn't realize they moved to Bellingwood."