Rosecliff Manor Haunting (4 page)

Addison sat next to Luke atop a white and grey, diamond-patterned wool rug, listening to the wood inside the fireplace crack and whistle. It soothed her somehow, watching the shadowy glow of the flames dance along the adjacent wall. And for a brief moment the worries of her mind faded away, becoming still again.

Luke clutched her hand, caressing her palm with his finger. “What did Helen tell you?”

Addison filled him in on her visit, and what she’d learned about the twins’ death. When she finished, he said, “Now we know how they died, but we still don’t know where they lived. Did you ask her?”

They actually didn’t
know
how they died. What they knew was how everyone else
assumed
they died. “I didn’t need to ask Helen where the Clarks lived. I figured it out myself.”

“How?”

“We know Cliff was the name of the twins’ father. And Helen said their mother’s name is Rose. The first part of the sign I saw posted in front of the gate in my dream was
Rose
, only it’s not Rosecrest or Rosecrans, it’s Rosecliff.”

“Their two names together.” He bumped shoulders with Addison, grinned. “It’s kinda romantic when you think about it. We could put a sign in front of this place one day, change it from Grayson Manor to something else, although AddisonLuke Manor doesn’t have the same ring to it.” 

It was the second time in the last week that he’d mentioned their future. Both times he’d looked her in the eye, gauging her reaction. She’d always been skittish when relationships progressed to this level in the past. It triggered the demons, the failed liaisons, the heartache. A past where kicking things up a notch had always resulted in her getting singed and scarred. Broken. Left to pick up the pieces and start again.

When Luke entered her life, it was like a special kind of oxygen had been pumped into the air. He was different. Honest and pure. Part of her thought she didn’t deserve him. 

“Hey,” Luke said. “Did you hear what I said?”

“About posting a sign with our names on it?”

“I asked if you found anything on Rosecliff when you searched it.”

“I did. There’s a Rosecliff Manor about twenty miles from here in Pleasant Valley. I thought we could drive over tomorrow. Once I see it, I should be able to tell right away if I’m at the right place.”

“And if you are, what then?”

“I hope to make contact with the girls again, see if I can get them to talk to me about what happened the night they died. Thing is, I’m not sure they know they’re dead. Vivian might, but I get the impression Grace is confused.”

“Any idea how you’ll make contact?” Luke asked.

Addison shook her head. “I don’t even know if I can get them to appear to me again, but it’s worth a try. If they died at the manor, their spirits must still be tied to it.”

“What do you think about Helen saying their deaths were considered an accident?”

“How can it be? If Vivian and Grace fell from the window as innocently as everyone believes they did, they should have left this world the moment they died. All these years later, and they’re still here. Something’s not right.”

“They’re kids. Maybe they don’t know how to get where they’re going.”

“A small part of me wants to believe they stayed because they didn’t want to leave without their parents. I don’t think that’s how it works though. And even if it was, even if some higher power granted them the choice of whether to stay or go, when I had the vision at the cemetery, Cliff crossed over right after he died. The girls remained here. For whatever reason, they couldn’t go with him.”

Luke leaned back on his elbows, pressing his hands onto the fibers of carpet. “You said Cliff didn’t hear the twins, and he didn’t see them, even though they were there in the hospital room with him. It still seems strange to me that they’re all dead, the girls could see him, but he couldn’t see them.”

“I agree. What’s even more interesting is how confused Grace was about what was happening. I saw her face when she called out to him. She expected him to answer. Vivian didn’t. She made no attempt to keep him here. Her only concern was Grace. She seemed to know they had to stay, and he had to go.”

Luke mulled it over in his mind. “Okay, let’s say their deaths weren’t an accident. What other options are there? What could have happened?”  

Addison had been pondering this exact question, trying to recreate the fatal event in her mind. A few things were clear, but so many other things weren’t. The kids had been sent away after dinner. They went to the attic. Assuming the attic window was closed at the time, someone opened it. Grace’s doll was then tossed onto the roof. After both girls allegedly tried to retrieve it, they fell to their deaths. “There are several gaps I need to fill before I can put it all together. Who opened the window? And why was the doll thrown onto the roof in the first place? Was it a joke, an accident, or was it deliberate and calculated? Was anyone else in the room at the time, and if so, did that person know Grace would go after the doll and in turn, Vivian would go after Grace?”

“Guess we won’t know until we dig deeper.”

“I’m also curious to know how far away the doll was from the window. Was it close, a foot or two, almost within their grasp, making it more plausible for them to think they could reach it? Or was it deliberately heaved several feet away? If they were around eleven or twelve years old at the time, they were old enough to understand the danger of stepping onto the window ledge to get to the roof. Especially for a doll. Why would they risk it?”

“Vivian could have thrown the doll on the roof and then dared Grace to get it,” Luke said. “You said she’s been trying to protect her. Have you considered why? Sure, she’s her sister, but what if there’s more to it? She could be protecting her because she feels guilty about what happened. Think about it.”

But they were
both
dead, which meant his theory was wrong.

It had to be.

“I can’t imagine Vivian had anything to do with what happened. She was just a child.”

Speculation aside, there was one shred of truth to his accusation. If Vivian didn’t throw the doll, she might be the only person who knew who did.

The exterior of Rosecliff Manor hadn’t altered much over the years. It was like it had been preserved in time, impervious to change. The grass looked the same. The gate looked the same. But the tall, sturdy oak tree towering over the front yard looked different.

Addison pushed the truck door closed and made a beeline for the tree, her eyes focused on the iron fence surrounding it on all four sides. The fence was picket style, with scrolled posts that looked like upside-down hearts.

“The girls were chasing each other around this tree in my dream,” Addison said to Luke. “This fence wasn’t here though.”   

She reached the fence, leaned forward, and wrapped her hands around the rails, staring down at a rectangular headstone bearing the words:

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

VIVIAN ASHLEY CLARK AND GRACE ANN CLARK

PASSED AWAY 1
^ST
OF AUGUST 1975

AGED 11 YEARS

REST IN HEAVENLY PEACE

Now Addison understood. The girls weren’t buried in the Rhinebeck Cemetery because they were here, at Rosecliff Manor. Why wasn’t their father buried here too?

The manor door gust open. A woman in her upper seventies with thin gray hair pinned back into a stiff bun speed-walked toward them. Draped over her white short-sleeved blouse was a black apron with tiny red cherries scattered all over it. A dollop of what appeared to be flour dusted the left side of her cheek. In one hand, she clenched a wooden spoon. The spoon meant business.

At first glance, Addison thought the woman appeared small and frail, with skin so lean and fragile the bones were practically protruding out. What she lacked in size, she made up for with a booming voice that echoed through the air. “You two. Get away from there!”

Addison released her hand from the fence’s railing, took a couple steps back. “We were just—”

The woman moved her spoonless hand to her hips. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

Looking to start fresh, Addison stuck out her hand. “You’re Rose Clark, aren’t you?”

The woman half-closed one eye, retracting away from Addison’s hand like it was a snake poised to strike. “How do you know my name?”

Good question. One Addison wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet.

“I’m Addison. This is Luke.”

“That’s
not
what I asked.”

“You own Rosecliff Manor, don’t you?”

“What about it?”

“I own a manor myself, in Rhinebeck. I was hoping I could talk to you for a few—”

“About what?”

Unsure of how to ease Rose’s apprehension, Addison turned to Luke for help.

“I’ve admired your manor for several years now,” he said.  

Rose reeled her head around, looking at the manor like she didn’t share his fascination. When she turned back, she said, “Why? There are plenty of houses around like this one.”

“Not like yours.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a historical restoration architect,” he said. “Every once in a while, I come across a house that stands out the way Rosecliff Manor does. When we drove past, I couldn’t help myself. I apologize if we disturbed you. Truth is, we were hoping to get a closer look at the place.”

“I … don’t know. I don’t know you. Either of you.”

Luke dug inside his pocket, pulled out a business card, and offered it to her. “If now’s not a good time, I understand. What about another day this week?”

Addison sighed.

Another day this week?

She hoped he hadn’t blown their chance to get inside. 

“This week?” Rose said. “I’m not sure. I’d have to think about it.”

Translation: opportunity over.  

A car rounded the corner. Addison squinted in disbelief. It was the vintage Ford she’d seen in her dream. A man sat in the driver’s seat. He had a familiar face, but something about him was different than the man who’d been in the driver’s seat before. This man was older. He raised a hand, drove in between the manor gates, and pulled to a stop in front of the house.

Rose’s expression softened. The man exited the vehicle and walked over, planting a tender kiss on her forehead.

“You didn’t tell me you were having anyone over today, Mom,” the man said.   

Mom?

Helen hadn’t mentioned any other siblings.

“I didn’t invite anyone over,” Rose stated. “These two just showed up.”   

Dressed in boot-cut jeans and a black pullover sweater, the man looked to be in his mid-fifties. Addison exchanged glances with Luke, certain she knew what was running through his mind—the same thing running through hers. If the man standing next to them was Vivian and Grace’s brother, he may have been in the attic the night they died.

The man looked at Luke. “I’m Derek, Rose’s son. And you two are?”

“Their names are Luke and Addison,” Rose interjected.

“What can we do for you?” Derek asked.

Rose cut in a second time, the wooden spoon in her hand now aimed at Luke. “This one was hoping to see the house.” She shifted the spoon to Addison. “And this one appears to be his nosey tag-a-long.”  

Addison crossed her arms in front of her. “Excuse—”

“I saw the way you were eyeing my daughters’ headstone. You wanted a closer look. I bet you would’ve climbed over the fence and onto their grave if I hadn’t stopped ya.
No one
steps over the fence but me. Got it?”

Derek’s face reddened. “Why are you interested in my mother’s house? It’s not for sale.”

“No, no,” Rose said. “They don’t want to buy it. Luke’s a restoration something or other. You know, one of those guys who takes an old house and makes it look new again.”

Luke peeled off another business card, explaining his job for a second time. Derek listened with interest, then said, “I don’t see any reason we can’t show them around, Mom.”

A still apprehensive Rose frowned. “I … I don’t know. Not today, Derek. Not today. Another day, maybe. We have this young man’s card. We can call him later.”

The look on her face indicated she had every intention of making sure it was
much
later.  

“They’re here now,” Derek said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Thirty minutes?” Luke asked. “And then we’ll leave. I promise.”  

Derek draped an arm around his mother. “Why don’t you go back inside, finish cooking, and I’ll give these two the grand tour?”

She leaned in like she intended to whisper, but spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “And you’ll stay with them the
entire
time?”

He nodded. “The whole time.”

She sighed. “Oh, all right.”

Without uttering another word, Rose pivoted on her heel and headed back to the house.

Derek grinned. “So, where are you two from?” 

“Rhinebeck,” Addison said. “I actually own a manor there.”

“Oh, really? Which one?”

“Grayson Manor.”

“Huh, I’m not familiar with your place. My father was raised in Rhinebeck, but I haven’t spent much time there. Beautiful town.” 

“If you’re ever in the area, feel free to stop by,” Addison said. “And I can give
you
the grand tour.”

“About my mother … she’s a great person. Really. It’s just, we’ve been through a lot this last year. My dad passed away, and she still hasn’t adjusted to life without him.”

“Do you have any other siblings?” Addison asked.

“I’m the only one—well, the only one still living, I should say.”

“Do you live here with her?”

Derek’s head fell back, laughing, like she’d just told a joke. “I don’t. I live across town with my wife and our two sons. I look in on Mom three or four times a week. Aside from me, she doesn’t really have anyone.”

“No friends?”

“Nah, not close ones. Not anymore. She prefers to keep to herself these days.”

“I’m sorry about your father.”

“Thanks. You know, it’s the oddest thing. Some days I still think I’ll walk through the front door, and there he’ll be, sitting in his favorite recliner in the living room, head buried in a crossword puzzle. Sounds crazy, right?”

Not as crazy as Addison witnessing the man rising from the dead.   

“I went through the same thing when my mom died,” Addison said. “It wasn’t easy to let go.”

“But you have … let go? You found a way to move on?”

“In some ways, I guess. Sometimes I feel her presence, like she’s right here, standing beside me.”

Derek’s attention shifted from Addison to his sisters’ headstone. “Yeah, I know what you mean. For a long time as a kid, I thought I could feel my sisters too.”

“I noticed they are both buried here, but your father isn’t.”

“Vivian and Grace died a long time ago. My mother insisted on burying them here because she felt like even though they were dead, it kept them close to her. When they were alive, the three of them used to sit and have a picnic around this tree. Having them here is sentimental, I guess you could say. When Dad died, we talked about the best place for him to be buried and decided it wasn’t here.”

“Why not?”

“We would have had to take the fence out and move things around. Mom tried to come up with a way to make that happen at first, but she didn’t like the idea of doing anything that would disturb her daughters’ remains in any way. Besides, Dad wanted to be laid to rest in Rhinebeck.”

“Why?”

“Right before my dad’s parents died, they purchased a plot for him and my mother right next to theirs. Mom would never agree to be buried there though. She wants to be buried here, at Rosecliff Manor, which would be fine if the estate stays in the family.”

“I thought you said she didn’t want to do anything to the spot where Vivian and Grace are buried?”

“Well, Mom wants to be cremated, so that’s not really an issue.”

The keys to the vintage Ford slipped from Derek’s hand. Luke bent down, picked them up. “Nice car.”

“Yeah, my dad left it to me. Personally, I’d rather be driving my truck any day of the week, but Mom gets a kick out of seeing me in this old thing. I figure if it makes her happy, it’s the least I can do. So … you two ready to see the house?”