The Haunting of Thornview Hall Page 2

  Jacob stared for a few seconds before sighing. “My mother had an affair with a man who helped care for our property. They ran away together. As much as I hate my father for what he did, I hate my mother more. She abandoned Miriam and me to a horrible life. As it turned out, she left Miriam to her death. I liked the groundskeeper. He was a very nice man. I often think how things could have been had they taken us with them.”

  “Did your father beat your mother?”

  “Oh yes. Repeatedly and often. I don’t blame her for the affair. She was searching for an escape herself, some happiness in a life of pain. But she should have considered our wellbeing as well.”

  “What happened to your sister?”

  “I have no proof of this, understand. I was in my room that night, and I didn’t dare come out. I could hear it down the hall, the sounds of the beating. My sister screaming. I was eight years old. You can see I’m slightly built even now. Back then, I was tiny. I couldn’t do anything to help her.”

  “I know,” Sully said. “Before the Braddocks took me in, I lived in a bunch of foster homes. Some were abusive. I understand the helplessness and the fear, believe me. I know you couldn’t have done anything, and she knows too. She isn’t looking at you with judgment, Mr. Jacob. She’s worried about you.”

  A sob broke from Jacob’s throat, and he excused himself to the bathroom. The apartment’s size meant there was no way to not hear the older man crying.

  Sully waited, watching as little Miriam stood outside the bathroom door, large eyes focusing between the door and Sully.

  “Don’t worry,” Sully told her. “I’ll help your brother. And I’ll help you too. You’ll both be okay.”

  She turned to him, watching him with an intensity beyond her young appearance. He knew she’d found nothing to doubt when a small smile formed.

  The sobs grew quieter until ceasing altogether, and Jacob emerged from the bathroom a minute later, eyes reddened and puffy and humiliation colouring his features. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” Sully said. “Doing what I do, emotion is pretty common.”

  Jacob nodded and returned to his chair, taking a deep breath as he got settled. “As I was saying, I heard the beating. I saw my sister only once more, later that night. I couldn’t sleep, and I went to my window overlooking the woods behind the house. My father was carrying my sister into the woods. At the time, I didn’t understand. I know now, through adult eyes, he was taking her away to bury her.

  “The next day, my father reported her as missing. He was a very wealthy man, a highly paid barrister. He knew the law, knew the workings of police investigations. He would have known how to turn them whichever way he wished. He refused to let police speak with me, said I was too traumatized over everything. He knew, though, they would insist, so he sat me down and drilled into me what I was to tell them. I shared my father’s skill in dealing with people, even then. I was able to convince them, I believe, that I hadn’t seen anything and everything had been fine at home leading to her disappearance.”

  Hunching forward, he massaged his temples. A moment later, he lifted his head and continued without quite meeting Sully’s eyes.

  “The investigation continued for a long while, as you can imagine. But while they no doubt included my father in their list of suspects—perhaps even me—they could never find any evidence of it. My father told them Miriam liked to go for walks in the woods, even at night. Which was very true. She used to say she was looking for our mother there. The police considered the possibility she had run into someone in the woods who did something to her. We didn’t live far from a set of hiking trails. It wasn’t unusual for us to see people walking in the woods behind our property.”

  “I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about what happened while you were a kid,” Sully said. “But why not later, once you weren’t at home with your father anymore?”

  “I was never out from under his thumb. He paid for my university education, he provided me with my first job. Eventually, he made me his partner in the firm. When he passed away, he left everything to me. And he stopped drinking. I think after what happened to Miriam, he realized he had to take precautions, whether to avoid hurting someone else, or because he wanted to present a perfect picture of himself to investigators. Perhaps both, I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it.”

  Sully moved to ask another question, but Jacob held up a hand. “It wasn’t all because of him I stayed quiet. I’m ashamed to admit this, but part of me didn’t want my own successes tarnished. If he’d been exposed as the monster he was, it would have had a devastating effect on the firm. And don’t forget, I covered up a crime for him. While excusable as a child, not so as an adult. I’d come through a great deal, and I genuinely believe I’ve earned the things I have. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it. I convinced myself it was all in the past. Nothing could be done to change things, so what was the point?”

  Sully held Jacob’s eye. “So why tell me all this now?”

  “Three reasons: First, you’ve already started the ball rolling, and it’s too late to put the genie back in the bottle. Second, I’m close to retirement, anyway. Once the jury’s back with its verdict on Lowell’s case, my career will come to a close—barring any appeals, I suppose. And third—and I want to be very clear on this—I love my sister. I’ve always loved her, and I’ve always felt like I failed her. You may have some doubters out there, Mr. Gray, but you’ve convinced me. I do believe she’s still with me and that you can see her. And I very much want to believe you can help her.”

  “I’ll do my best.” A thought occurred to Sully. “Hang on. If I help you, won’t you get in trouble? I mean, you’re representing the man on trial for killing members of my family and trying to kill me.”

  Jacob offered a dry smile. “Jury’s deliberating. My job’s more or less done. Between you and me, there’s no way they don’t return at least one verdict of first-degree murder. The law’s clear: minimum twenty-five years before parole eligibility. Only argument I have left to make is whether the court should impose consecutive or concurrent life sentences. As far as appeal, I intend to strongly urge Lowell to seek alternate counsel. This case wore me out, physically and emotionally. I know many people don’t accept this, but defence counsel feel things too. Aiden Braddock was just five years old when he died. You can choose to believe this or not, but his death has weighed on me—not least of all because of what I carry with me about my own childhood.”

  Sully nodded. “I believe you.”

  “Your dad and Aiden: did you see them, you know, after?”

  “As ghosts? Yeah, I did. But they crossed over once Lowell was charged and safely in custody.”

  Jacob lowered his gaze to his lap. “That won’t be a possibility for Miriam, I’m afraid. Our father passed away almost twenty years ago. He’ll never face justice.”

  “I can’t say this for sure,” Sully said. “But my guess is if people don’t face justice on earth, they do after death. Anyway, I don’t get the impression that’s what Miriam wants. Kids don’t think that way. Even Aiden, what he really needed was to know he and his family would be safe from Lowell. I’d like to talk to her, if it won’t be too weird for you.”

  “Right now?”

  “Sure.”

  Jacob nodded tightly, so Sully turned to the little girl sheltering behind her brother’s chair.

  “Miriam? My name’s Sully. I want to help you. But I’ll need you to help me with something first, okay? I can’t hear you, but you can show me things if you touch my hand. Just think really hard of what you really need, and keep that thought in your head, all right?”

  She stared at him a long moment but at last nodded. He held out a hand, working to keep any trace of anxiety from his expression. In his experience, child ghosts could be the most extreme. They hadn’t yet learned how to restrain their emotions, and they felt everything intensely. That, in turn, made him feel th
em intensely.

  Ordinarily, he would have liked Dez here when he did this. Dez could draw him back when he sank too deep. But the jury could come back at any time; if Jacob had to leave, he’d take Miriam with him.

  Miriam’s fingertips found his. He had only a moment to feel the icy sensation when the vision exploded into his brain.

  As always, he was no longer himself but the ghost.

  She was curled up on a bed, a large figure backlit in the doorway.

  Daddy was furious, but she didn’t know about what. She hadn’t done anything wrong. At least she didn’t think so.

  Daddy didn’t say anything, just moved toward her.

  She recoiled, pressing back into the corner where headboard met wall. Barely a moment passed before the first blow fell.

  Sometimes, he would just hit her the once. Not tonight. Tonight he kept hitting and hitting. She screamed, thought of her big brother. But she knew he couldn’t do anything. He was too small too. And Daddy was so big.

  He dragged her from the bed onto the floor. Her head hit the floorboards hard, but she had no time to think about the pain. He was kicking her now. His foot came toward her head.

  The last thought she had was of Mama.

  An image flashed into Sully’s brain next, painful in its intensity.

  Mama practicing a ballet routine in a brightly lit room while Miriam giggled and clapped.

  Her mother.

  Miriam wanted her mother.

  The vision ended abruptly, withdrawing itself from Sully’s brain as quickly as it had come.

  He felt the floor under his knees, under his palms.

  Jacob’s voice came from near his ear. “Mr. Gray? Mr. Gray, are you all right?”

  Sully opened his eyes, discovered his vision was clouded by tears. He wiped them away before meeting Jacob’s worried gaze.

  “You can call me by my first name,” Sully said. It was all he could manage to say right now, the rest of it still churning inside him. Because it wasn’t just the mental image of Bill Garver he was seeing anymore, it was Mr. Blake. The last man Sully had stayed with before the Braddocks. A man who’d nearly killed him.

  “Then you can call me Leo,” he said. “What did she show you?”

  Sully didn’t have the heart to tell him the full truth—not in vivid detail anyway. “She showed me what happened to her.”

  Leo blanched. He nodded. “I see.”

  “But she showed me something else. Your mother. She was a ballet dancer?”

  Leo, still crouched, fell back onto his butt. “How did you—”

  “Miriam showed me a memory of watching your mother dance. Just at home, I think.”

  Leo nodded slowly, mouth still open. “That’s how my father met her. It was an amateur company she was with, really. One based here in the city. But she had hopes once of making it as a ballerina. Instead my father demanded she stay home and give him a family. At least, that’s what I remember her telling me once. I wasn’t even sure Miriam remembered her at all. My memories are limited enough, and I was three years older.”

  “And you never tried to trace her?” Sully asked.

  Leo shook his head. “Perhaps it sounds cold, but I wanted nothing to do with her. Still don’t care to, but if you think it will help Miriam, have at it.”

  “I think it is what she wants,” Sully said. “In fact, I know it. She wants her mom. She’s been clinging to you all these years because she feels safe with you, but she’s got a connection to your mother too. I think I have to find her.”

  “I’m not a young man anymore, Sullivan,” Leo said. “I very much doubt my mother is still alive.”

  Sully managed a smile. “Given what I do, whether your mother is alive or not is irrelevant.”

  3

  Before Sully lived at the apartment, it had been Dez’s.

  Dez didn’t much like the place, recalling it mainly as the hole he’d been forced to rent during a rough patch he’d had with his wife, Eva. Their rough patch lasted close to two years, beginning when his dad died and getting firmly out of control when he believed Sully had been killed.

  He still looked at the windows above the Golden Hand pawn shop and saw those dark days.

  But Sully had experienced far more dark days than Dez had.

  With time off work given by his boss, Lachlan, Dez had been getting ready for the day when a phone call from Leonard Jacob had him changing course. He hadn’t been able to get past greetings before Jacob cut in with, “I think you should check on Sullivan. I was just over there, and I’m a bit worried.”

  “Why? What did you do?”

  “Nothing. It’s Miriam. Please, just check on him.”

  Enough said.

  Unfortunately, by the time Dez arrived at the building—a solid twenty-five minutes from his own place in the Gladstone neighbourhood of Kimotan Rapids—Sully wasn’t answering his door.

  Dez pulled out his own set of keys to the place but turned at the sound of a voice behind him.

  “He went out,” Emily Crichton said.

  Dez approached his former neighbour, a woman in her eighties who was far more observant than her thick-lensed glasses would suggest. “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I tried talking to him, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t look well. Not sick or anything, just not all there. Like he was in another world. And he wasn’t wearing a coat. If he wanders around too long out there, he’ll freeze.”

  Crap. “Thanks, Emily.”

  “I hope everything’s all right,” she called out as Dez jogged down the hallway toward the stairs.

  As he drove the Riverview neighbourhood searching for Sully, he was left in no doubt as to what had happened. Sully got lost in the visions sometimes, when they were too intense or triggered something inside him. Dez’s job was usually to haul him out when it seemed he was falling under the weight of one. This time, he hadn’t been there to do it. He hadn’t been given the chance.

  “Damn it, Sull,” he muttered.

  He was contemplating heading home to get Pax—the dog had an uncanny ability to track Sully—when he was waved down by Billy “Bulldog” Bird standing on the edge of Riverview Park, two full grocery bags held in one hand. Dez pulled to the curb and rolled down his window, letting in a blast of winter air as his friend leaned down.

  “You looking for Sully?” Bulldog asked.

  “Yeah. You see him?”

  Bulldog nodded, face even more dragged down than usual. “Yep.” He turned, pointing in the direction of the river with one hand. “Down there. Don’t know what’s up with him. Like he’s on another planet or something.”

  Dez wanted nothing more than to check on Sully right now, but Bulldog came with problems of his own. “You have somewhere warm to go?”

  “Staying with a friend. Just out to get some stuff from the store, and I saw Sully wandering around in the park.”

  “I wish you’d let me help you out, man.”

  “Don’t need no help, so stop offering. I enjoy my life, Copper. Go take care of your boy. He’s the one who needs you.”

  Dez put the window back up, shut off the car and got out. “Want to sit inside to get warm for a minute?”

  Bulldog scoffed. “What, you think I’m soft or something?”

  “Okay, Bulldog, okay.” Dez patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for him.”

  “Anytime.”

  Bags of groceries in hand, Bulldog walked off, leaving Dez to hunt for Sully on his own.

  He spotted him sitting, slumped forward in the snow along the ice-covered river. His posture alone told Dez something was very wrong.

  He approached Sully cautiously and placed a hand gently on his back before sitting next to him. No response.

  “Sully? Sull, I need you to talk to me, man.”

  Sully wasn’t wearing a hat or coat and his hair was loose, falling forward and concealing his face, its ends solidly frosted from breath and cold. Dez removed his coat and draped it over Sully’s
shoulders. That done, he pulled back the curtain of hair to see his face.

  The sight made Dez’s skin crawl. It was expressionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

  “Sully?” Dez said, louder. “Come on, man. Snap out of it. Sull!”

  He shook Sully’s leg. Garnering no response, he went for pain stimulus, pinching the side of one of Sully’s gloveless fingers.

  That did it. Sully came forward with a gasp before turning to Dez with wide eyes. “Dez?”

  “Christ almighty, man, you scared the hell out of me. You okay?”

  “Why aren’t you wearing a coat? It’s freezing out here.”

  “Uh, you’re the one not wearing a coat, dummy. I put mine over you. Come on, let’s get you home and pour some coffee down you.”

  He stood and hauled Sully up, then half-lugged him to the SUV. Once he’d placed him in the passenger seat, Dez circled the hood and dropped in behind the wheel. As soon as the vehicle was running, he put the heat on full blast.

  Ten minutes later, they were back inside the apartment, with Sully changed into something dry and warm and wrapped in a quilt while Dez pulled down a couple of mugs for the now-percolating coffee.

  “You want to tell me what happened?” Dez asked.

  Sully sat across the room on the unmade sofa bed. Dez followed him over and sat next to him, waiting on the coffeemaker.

  “Leo Jacob came over. Miriam was with him.”

  “Leo?” Dez asked. “Since when are you guys buddies?”

  “He’s not so bad.”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  “In the courtroom,” Sully said. “It’s his job.”

  “Whatever,” Dez muttered. “Let me guess. You let Miriam get into your head without bothering to call me first.”

  “I wasn’t sure how long I’d have with her. I didn’t think there’d be time to call you over.”

  Dez put a hand on Sully’s shoulder, squeezing to ensure Sully paid attention to what he was about to say. “You should have made time. If you get any indication things are going to be too much to handle on your own, you call me. That’s how this works. We could have arranged a time to meet with Jacob later, when we both could have been there.”