The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion (13 page)

Sylvia shrugged and lit her cigarette as a
bearded man with an acoustic guitar took center stage fifty feet
from them on a wood platform with haystacks behind him. Lucile
turned to the stage and signaled Mary to follow. It appeared as
though she didn’t like to be in one spot for too long.

“You have to hear Randy play. He’s so
great!”

Mary waved to the table of apparent aging
socialites as they waved back. A sizeable crowd had already
gathered around the stage, plastic plates in hand, digging into
their grilled grub. The flannel-wearing guitarist stepped aside and
introduced Pastor Phil who soon took the stage to enthusiastic
applause.

“Welcome all. Thank you for being here,” he
said with his arms outstretched in typical oratory fashion. He then
lowered them with a slight laugh. “Now why you’d want to hear me
speak again after an hour long sermon is beyond me, but here we
go.”

The crowd laughed in response as Mary looked
around, searching for Curtis. She caught a glimpse of him in the
back near the grill, having joined the huddle of men deep in
conversation. It looked as though he was making friends just fine.
Mary, on the other hand, felt overwhelmed with all the unfamiliar
faces. Lucille seemed nice enough, albeit a tad pushy.

“I’m glad to see so many smiling faces here
for our Redwood Annual Summer Barbecue Kickoff!” Pastor Phil
continued, swinging an arm through the air as the crowd clapped and
hollered.

“I just love him,” Lucille said loudly into
Mary’s ear. “Isn’t he just the best?”

Mary nodded, feigning a smile and feeling
slightly dizzy with all the commotion around her.

“Now we’ve got plenty of food and drinks for
everyone. Games for you and your kids or tables to sit and take in
this beautiful nature that surrounds us. And before ol’ Randy plays
us some lovely tunes, I want to welcome the newest addition to our
lovely town, Curtis and Mary Malone! Everyone welcome them with a
hearty applause.” He looked downward, arm outstretched to Mary,
zeroing in on her from the crowd. She looked around nervously with
a wave as the crowd cheered.

“Let’s show them how we treat each other
here in Redwood,” Phil continued, “with love, kindness, and respect
for each one another. The way neighbors are supposed to be.”

The cheering continued as Mary looked around
for an out. She was packed in and it was getting more and more
difficult for her to move. Phil said a few more words and then
introduced the guitar playing who began to strum away in the glow
of morning sun. “I need to find Curtis,” Mary said to Lucile as she
worked her way out of the crowd. Lucile nodded, distracted by the
music and subsequent signing emitting from Randy’s baritone
crooning. Mary snuck away as Lucile continued clapping, squeezing
herself through the crowd and excusing herself along the way.

She broke free and quickly moved to the
grill where Curtis handed her a plate with a hot dog on a bun,
beans, and coleslaw.

“Dig in,” he said, bobbing his head along
with the music.

She took the plate, thanking him. She felt
flushed and a bit light-headed as the music continued on in the
distance. Curtis must have took notice of her growing paleness and
asked her if she was okay.

“I want to go home,” she said. She looked
over his shoulder past him, and for a minute it seemed as though
all heads were turned in their direction, staring at them. She
squinted her eyes shut and rubbed them. Upon, looking again she saw
no such thing. No one was watching them. All attention was on the
stage.

“You need to meet some of the guys first,”
he said. “Bob’s around here somewhere. The realtor, remember?”

“I remember,” she said. “Maybe some other
time.”

Curtis gently placed his hand on her
shoulder as his smile faded, replaced with concern. “What’s wrong,
Mary?”

“Nothing. I just… I’ve had enough for now
and would like to go home.”

Curtis crouched down and grabbed a cold
water bottle from a cooler below, rising up and handing it to her.
“Why don’t you take a seat, have some food, and relax a
little.”

She took a step forward, inches from his
face. “I need to go home now. If you want to stay, I’ll gladly call
a cab.”

Curtis paused stunned. He then looked around
with his hands out. “A cab out here? Hate to break it to you, but
we’re not in Chicago anymore.”

She turned and began to walk away from him,
not saying a word, when his hand went back over her shoulder,
stopping her. “Okay! We’ll leave. Just give me a minute.”

Mary conceded and stood for a moment,
waiting as Curtis turned to tell his new group of friends that they
had to leave. She could her the man express shock and try to
convince him otherwise. Her only hope was that she could duck out
without drawing attention of Lucille or any of the other women.
Pastor Phil, however, always felt near, and he always seemed to be
watching.

Curtis came to her side, holding his own
plate of food and told her he was ready. She led the way at a quick
pace, around the side of the church and to the parking lot as the
music faded and the general cheer grew more distant. She felt
instant relief upon entering the empty cement parking lot. She’d
held her end of the deal for the most part. They could go home now.
Even with that much obvious she couldn’t place why exactly the
ordeal felt like such a chore in the first place. She would need to
get to know these people at some point. Why did it feel like such a
burden then? What was responsible for her increasing paranoia and
antisocial behavior? Something told her that the diary would reveal
more of answers and begin to explain why the town was having such a
strange effect.

Chapter Ten

Warning

Curtis remained silent as they drove home,
clearly perturbed by their hasty departure. Light classic rock
played as Mary’s gaze met the passing trees of a long stretch of
forest on their way back to the mansion. Out of the heat and the
crowd, she felt better but still dazed.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well,” she
said to Curtis. There’s always next Sunday.”

Curtis pursed his lips with an understanding
nod. “It’s okay. I mean. We sure made one heck of a first
impression running out like that. That’s for damn sure.” He paused
with anger rising in his tone, though Mary felt defensive in her
own right.

“
What do you want me to say, Curtis? I
tried. I told you from the get-go that I wasn’t feeling
well.”

“That’s always the case when there’s
something I want to do, isn’t it?” Curtis quipped dismissively.

“You think I’m making this up?” she said,
throwing her hands to the side.

“Of course not,” he said, slapping the
wheel. “But I hoped that you would at least try to make an effort.
I’m trying to start a practice out here. I need to make
connections. I need to network, and you know that.”

“I said that you could stay.”

“That’s not the point,” Curtis said. “Like
I’m just going to send you off like that. We have to operate as a
team, Mary. That’s how these people are. They’re traditional and
old fashioned. It’s everything this town is about.”

“I think we’re fine being ourselves. You
want business, being a phony isn’t going to help,” she said, nearly
regretting the last part.

“Oh, okay!” he said. “I read you loud
and clear, Mary. You know my job better than I do. Is that it?
You’re going to lecture me now?
”

“Enough,” she said, cutting through the air
with her hand like a knife. “I don’t feel like arguing
anymore.”

He said no more as he turned right into the
long road way leading to the mansion, bypassing an old, rusty
automatic gate that had yet to be repaired. Mary understood his
frustration of having to leave so early, but any longer at that
barbecue and she was sure she would have passed out. Nonetheless,
things were going to be stilted between them the rest of the day.
She could already feel it.

They pulled into the empty courtyard, free
of work crews. It seemed as though they were going to have a quiet
day after all which was good enough for her. There was much
research to be done. She wanted more than anything to prove to
Curtis that something was indeed wrong with the house and the very
town he had whisked them away to.

With one glance toward the front door,
Mary’s heart seized upon seeing a curious marking painted down its
surface.

“
Stop the
car
,” she said with urgency.

Curtis halted near the empty fountain,
fifteen feet from the door without question as she flew forward,
constrained by her seatbelt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Mary squinted ahead to get a better look.
“Oh my God…” she said cupping her mouth with both hands.

Curtis looked to the side, unsure of what to
say. Painted down the middle of their double-door entrance was two
thick red intersecting lines of an upside down cross.

A police cruiser showed up about twenty
minutes later with the Chief of Police and his deputy after Curtis
had called them. What looked like simple vandalism had a more
ominous meaning to Mary. The driver, an older man, stepped out of
the car and introduced himself as Chief Benjamin Riley. His
partner, Deputy Alex Ramirez, extended his hand as well.

Chief Riley was older than his young deputy
by at least twenty years. Tall and lanky with a gruff demeanor, his
silver hair and wrinkled, leathery face exhibited a traditional
notion of a small town sheriff. He wore aviator sunglasses and
donned a gray short-sleeved uniform and dark slacks amidst his side
pistol holster and radio.

Deputy Ramirez was shorter than the chief,
with boyish good looks and a short crop of black hair. Mary
remembered seeing the both of them standing outside the police
station the week before, wondering if they alone made up the entire
police force of Redwood.

All business, Chief Riley held his clipboard
as they stood at the end of the courtyard next to the steps leading
to the vandalized door. Ramirez admitted that they both came not
only investigate but to meet the new couple everyone was talking
about around town.

“I didn’t realize that we were such
celebrities,” Mary said.

“You certainly are in this town,” Ramirez
said, flashing a smile.

Angered, Curtis pointed to the red upside
down cross on their door. “I want to press charges against the
punks. Not even here two weeks, and our home has already been
vandalized.”

“Anyone get inside?” the chief asked,
scribbling onto his clipboard.

“Not that I know of,” Curtis said. “I
searched every room. No sign of any break in.”

“Whoever did this had to know that we would
be gone,” Mary said.

Deputy Ramirez glanced up at her with a
raised brow. “What makes you say that?”

Curtis suddenly cut in. “The point is, I
want whoever did this charged with trespassing and vandalism. This
is unacceptable!”

Ramirez walked up the steps to take pictures
of the door with his pocket-sized digital camera.

“You might want to get that gate fixed
outside first and foremost,” the chief said with his near southern
drawl.

These weren’t kids,” Mary said.

Their home had been marked with an upside
down cross. There was nothing subtle about it. She wondered if it
was yet another warning bestowed upon them by unseen forces.

Curtis turned to her with his hands on his
hips, shaking his head. “I don’t care. I want whoever did it to
face charges.”

“It’s a message,” she continued as Riley and
Ramirez stood to the side, reserved to offer their own take. She
approached the door and ran her hand down the fresh red paint on
the hard wooden surface. “Either a warning or something else.”

Curtis walked up the steps and stopped near
her, clearly not having it. “Mary, please. Someone is toying with
us. Probably kids.”

She glanced at him, unconvinced. “I wish
that was the case. I really do.”

Curtis went back to the two police officers
with his hands out, shrugging. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find the
perpetrators, right officers?”

Deputy Ramirez nodded while scribbling into
a pocket-sized notebook. “We can run a search on paint purchases at
the hardware store.”

“Good thinking, Deputy,” the chief added.
They both seemed satisfied enough and turned to leave with an
assurance that they’d try their best to find the vandals.

Mary then spun around from the front door
with urgency. “Chief Riley!”

They both stopped as Riley turned around
with a pause. She hurried down the stairs, passing Curtis and
approached the officers, hands folded together and a worried look
stricken across her face.

“
Yes ma’am?” the chief asked,
waiting.

“
How long have you lived here, if you
don’t mind me asking?” she asked.

Chief Riley looked up, thinking to himself.
“Hm.” His head shifted back in her direction. “About fifteen years
at this point.”

“
How about you, Deputy?” she asked
Ramirez.

“
My wife and I moved here about five
years ago,” he answered.

Mary turned, signaling toward the mansion.
“I’m sure you’re both familiar with the history behind this
place.”

“
Sure am,” the chief said, putting a
piece of gum in his mouth. “But that was a long time
ago.”

“
The Bechdel murders?” Ramirez
asked.

Chief Riley nodded.

“
The case was never solved to my
knowledge,” Mary said. “This house is trying to tell us something.
I can feel it.” She looked squarely at the chief, imploring him for
details. “Is there anything we should know about this place? About
this town?”