Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Road noise lulled Sybil into a sense of peace. So did the comfortable feelings she had in Doug’s calm presence.

After they’d spent another thirty minutes at the restaurant chatting about mundane things, they wrapped up the night. Once in the car, they’d eased into chatting about good times in their lives. She’d learned he liked non-fiction, historical fiction, and sci-fi reading the most. She revealed her eclectic reading preferences, including the ones he mentioned.

“Wait,” he said as they got closer to Clarice’s mansion. “You like horror?”

“You don’t?”

“I’ve seen a few horror movies I liked, but I haven’t tried reading a horror novel.”

“You might have figured that women don’t like horror, or that a person who sees dead people wouldn’t like horror. Well, you’d be right...some mediums don’t like horror or horror movies. I like both.”

She shrugged, a bit guarded, when she realized she shouldn’t be. She glanced over at him, and in the dim light of the cab truck, and he smiled.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not saying it’s bad you like it...it just surprised me because so many women don’t like horror period. My mother hates it.” His grin grew wider.

“So do most of the women I know. I had to be the rebel,” she said.

You’re not so different.

It echoed in her head. She didn’t wish to be different, yet she knew it down to her core that she was. Her Aunt Maggie had stated that to her years ago, emphasizing that she wasn’t so distinctive from everyone else. She hadn’t meant it as a comfort, but derogatory.

Before long, they reached the road that led to the mansion. As they turned left, Sybil couldn’t help but stare at the tree that Doug’s wife had crashed into all those years ago. A strange curiosity came over her. She wanted to leave the truck and touch the tree to see if it would talk to her and explain what had happened. But of course she wouldn’t. At least not right now.

They arrived at the circular drive at the front of the mansion, and he parked close to the front door.

“Thanks so much for dinner. It loved it,” she said.

“You’re welcome. I think Clinton’s got a winner in that diner. Before you leave the area, go there with your crew.”

“Sounds like a great idea. Well, I’ll let you go.”

He grinned, his expression warm. “Hey, I’d love to cook you dinner one night. We should do that before you finish cleaning Clarice’s mansion. That is...if you want to.”

Pleasure eased through her, warm and affirming. “Sounds great.”

“If I don’t hear from you in a couple of days, I’ll text or call and see how things are going.”

“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

She exited the truck with a wave. As she went to the front door, he waited until she’d opened the front door and let herself inside. She locked the door and heard the truck pull away. She turned.

She started, a gasp coming out of her throat.

“Shit.” Sybil let out a relieved breath as she recognized Pauline standing in the doorway leading to the Great Hall. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry.” Pauline’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she smiled. “I heard the truck drive up.”

Sybil walked into the Great Hall and noted some small lights illuminated parts of the cavernous room.

“So, how was the date?” Pauline asked.

Sybil drew off her sock hat and stuffed it in her coat jacket. “Great.”

She gave Pauline a short version of it, emphasizing Clinton’s more than anything.

“Uh-huh.” Pauline’s grin hadn’t left. She planted her hands on her hips. “You were sitting out there for some time...in the truck, I mean.”

Sybil rolled her gaze. “No I wasn’t sitting out there that long. Nothing happened. Not that it would be any of your business if it did.”

“Too bad. I mean, that man is hot. If I were you, I’d try to get some before I left this house for good.”

Sybil couldn’t help but shake her head and smile as she headed toward the staircase. “It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

“Wait,” Pauline said.

Sybil stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned toward her.

“Look, I didn’t want to leave this until tomorrow. When you were gone, tonight at dinner, Letisha was acting really strange.”

Sybil frowned and unzipped her coat. Concern slid through her. “What do you mean?”

“A little loopy. We asked her if she was okay, and she came off snarky. Odd for her.”

“Maybe she was just tired. New meds and all.”

“I get that. And maybe she was okay. But I thought you’d want to know.”

Sybil didn’t feel any deception or the usual snippiness coming off of Pauline. “Okay, thanks. See you in the morning.”

Sybil ascended the steps, deliberating whether she should check on Letisha. She hesitated, but then reasoned Letisha might not be asleep.

When she reached Letisha’s room, she tapped on the door. No response came.

She knocked on the door again. “Letisha, it’s Sybil.”

No answer. Cautiously, Sybil tried the door, expecting it to be locked. It inched open. First, she noted the warm glow of a lamp by the bed. Rumpled sheets and pushed-down coverlet showed that someone had slept in the bed.

“Letisha?” She entered the room. The ensuite bathroom was unoccupied.

A chill passed over Sybil, even though she still wore her coat. A thought hit her.

Letisha is in the basement.

Her feet carried her out of the bedroom, and she closed the door on the way out. She let her instinct carry her.

This is stupid. You’re stupid, Sybil. She isn’t where you think she is. Why would she be?

Still, she pressed on. Pauline had turned off all the lights, so Sybil turned on the ones that illuminated the staircase and the Great Hall. She waited a moment, her breath coming quicker. Tonight, the house was different. Odd. More off balance than usual. Her skin crawled.

“I feel you,” she whispered.

Her heartbeat quickened as she headed to the cellar.

The door stood open a few inches.

A cool draft came from the cracked open door. She listened. Nothing. No sounds. Stillness enveloped the entire house, so solid and echoing that Sybil held her breath.

The door cracked open farther. Sybil stepped back with a soft gasp.

Ignoring the heavy, almost oppressive feeling deep in her stomach, she pushed the door wider. The darkness was complete. Letisha wasn’t down here. How could she be with no illumination?

Despite that fleeting thought, she reached in and clicked on the cellar light. It didn’t work. She flipped the switch more than once.

“Damn it,” Sybil muttered under her breath.

For a second, she thought of the old trope of the idiot going into the cellar at the haunted house. The stupid woman in the movie who always walked into danger. The man with more bravery than common sense who ventured too close to the ledge. She didn’t aspire to be that person.

She swept her cell phone flashlight over the steps. Nothing and no one.

Come on, Sybil. You can do this. Letisha needs you. You aren’t afraid of what’s down there. You aren’t.

She took the steps one by one with a confidence she didn’t feel. No hesitation. No faltering. At the bottom, the light struggled to push away the gloom. Goosebumps raced over her skin, her heartbeat picking up the pace.

She recalled an old saying from a television show.

In the booth, in the back, in the dark. I’ll meet you in the booth, in the back, in the dark.

The light reached the end of the main corridor. Not a sign of Letisha. Then she saw a shadow encroach from the side, down that odd appendage type room that led off to the right.

“Letisha?”

She picked up her steps, eager to see her friend.

“Letisha?”

A scuffing sound. The whisper of feet along the dirty floor. Sybil stopped. Listened.

Letisha stood next to the box Sybil had touched the first time she’d come down here. She wore flannel pajamas and big fuzzy slippers. She didn’t seem to notice Sybil.

“Letisha.”

Letisha reached out and touched the box as if she planned to open it. She started, gasped and fell backwards with a wail and landed on her butt. She yelped when she saw Sybil.

“Damn it!” Letisha’s face was a mask of fear and anger as she scuttled backwards. “What the hell?”

Sybil made sure her light didn’t hit her friend in the face. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Letisha looked around, confusion clear. “What the actual...why am I here?”

“I don’t know. I came to find you.” Concern ramped up the fear inside Sybil. “I knew you’d be down here. Are you okay?” Sybil tugged Letisha to her feet.

“Yeah. But I don’t...” Letisha’s eyes looked moist. “I don’t know how I got here.”

Heaviness enveloped the area. Sybil could feel it creeping into her bones, as smothering as a blanket over her face. “Come on. Let’s jump ship.”

Letisha hurried past her. They took the stairs almost at a run. Reached the top, rushed through the door. The door slammed behind them.

“What the hell?” Letisha said as she turned, and they both looked at the door.

“Come on, let’s get somewhere we can talk.”

Once they reached Letisha’s room, Letisha kicked off her fluffy slippers and flopped onto her bed. She’d snapped on a couple of extra lights when they’d walked into the room, and it chased away the gloom. The red velvet curtains echoed those in the attic, and even the coverlet was red satin.

“Wow,” Sybil said. “I think you should change rooms.”

Letisha groaned. “Why?”

“There’s too much red in here. I love opulence, but this feels like pain. Red hot pain. There’s the room two doors down that’s still Victorian, but the colors are subtle greens.”

Letisha shoved upwards until she lay against the headboard supported by pillows. “What are you now? The paranormal redecorator?”

Sybil snorted a half laugh. “That sounds like something that might play well on paranormal reality television.”

Letisha grinned. “It does, doesn’t it?” She rubbed one hand over her face. “So what the hell happened? I’ve never done that before. I mean sleepwalking.”

Sybil sank into a comfortable-looking padded chair.

“Maybe your pills are working a little too well,” Sybil said.

Letisha no longer looked blurry-eyed, the startled expression from the cellar long gone. A haunted expression darkened her eyes.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s possible,” Letisha said.

“Is there any way you took an extra pill?”

Letisha’s gaze sharpened. “Hell, no. I’ve got everything sorted in a pillbox.” She got off the bed and went to the bathroom. She came out a few moments later. “Nope. Everything in its proper place.”

The miffed sound in Letisha’s voice made Sybil say, “I didn’t mean to imply you’d deliberately taken an extra pill.”

“You’re just trying to be a good friend.”

Letisha smiled, but Sybil took on the sadness behind it.

“How did you get into the basement without the key?” Sybil asked.

Letisha stared off into space for a moment. “I don’t know. Did you leave it unlocked?”

“I don’t think so. Even if someone left it unlocked, that wouldn’t explain why you were down there in the dark.”

Letisha rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not...” Her gaze returned to Sybil’s. “I don’t understand it. It scares the hell out of me.”

Sybil took her time speaking. “You would’ve had to inch your way down each step without falling and breaking your neck. You must’ve figured out how to see in the dark.”

“What? No.”

“Then you explain it to me. How did you get down all those steps? When I found you, you were near that weird box. How did you see it in pitch black?”

Letisha popped off the bed and paced. She stopped and put her hands up. “I don’t know. Maybe I should call the doctor about it. I suppose it could be the meds.” She shrugged. “They aren’t working well. Barely took the edge off the pain.”

Sybil cracked a yawn. “I can drive you tomorrow if you need to see him again tomorrow.”

Letisha stopped pacing and smiled. “Thanks for looking out for me.” Letisha managed a smile, and it looked genuine. “How was your date?”

Surprised by the new direction in their conversation, she hesitated before answering.

“I don’t think I’d call it a date. Maybe friends,” Sybil said.

Letisha shrugged. “Either or doesn’t matter. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, actually I did.” Sybil couldn’t stop her big grin. “Thor is not only hot, but he’s also got depths.”

Letisha chuckled. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” She yawned. “You can tell me more tomorrow.”

Sybil stood. “In the meantime, don’t sleepwalk.”

Letisha followed her to the door. “Yes, mother.”

Sybil groaned. “‘Night.”

Once Sybil was back in her room, she considered returning downstairs to lock the cellar. No, no. She didn’t want to. Now that she was in her bedroom, she didn’t want to leave it to wander the dark again.

You don’t want to feel what’s in the dark.

No. No, she didn’t.