Bump In The Night
By: David Leblond

Prologue

April 20, 1988

	Mary sat in her quiet house in the country, and turned the page in her romance novel.  She was slowly beginning to get sleepy, but she would not allow herself to go to bed until after her husband had called.  Doug had left that afternoon to go on a business trip and said he would call at 11:30 that night.  It was now 11:00, thirty minutes until Mary would learn whether her new husband was the late type, or the kind that called right on time, as she had hoped.  
	In the month that they had been married, Mary had not slept alone.  Now that she had someone to sleep with, she didn’t know if she could even stand sleeping alone in that large bed, in that large room, and in this huge house.  Alone.  She hated being alone, especially at night.  At every creak she heard she quickly lifted her head and looked around.  This house wasn’t exactly new, it was actually 20 years old.  It was in a quiet neighborhood close to town, but far enough away that it remained peaceful.  The city had not yet found this quiet neighborhood.  
	A large crash of thunder made her drop her book, and lose her place.  Great, a thunderstorm is all she needed right now.  With all her luck, it would probably start to rain soon.  She hated when it rained on this house, the copper roof over the large bay window on the front of their house was right below their bedroom window and made so much noise during a thunderstorm.  Sure enough, the rain started as soon as the thought left her.  She sighed, and began to look through her book for her page.
	The sounds the house made during a thunderstorm were horrible.  The creaking and rattling of the walls against the wind were unbearable, but it was the sound that she heard next that really got to her:  The creaking of the floor in the kitchen.  She hated that sound because she always pictured herself falling through the floor at any moment.  She hated that sound because when she stepped there, everyone knew instantly where she was.  She hated that sound because she was alone… and someone, or something was in the kitchen.

	Mary dropped her book beside her chair.  She didn’t want to move, all she wanted to do was forget that she had just heard that sound.  She knew she couldn’t, though.  The living room was bright, she would have it no other way.  She had three lights on in there, and it still seemed too dim for her tastes.  If Doug was there to protect her, two lights would be fine, but she was alone and wanted it as bright as possible.  She slowly stood up and tried to compose herself.  She couldn’t.  She was anxious, and scared… more scared than she had ever been in her life.  Even if she searched the house and couldn’t find anyone, she would not be able to sleep that night, for that one creak had ruined it for her.  She took one step forward, right into the corner of her coffee table.  The corner hit her square in the bone, and she cursed loudly.  Too loudly, she told herself, now whatever was in the kitchen knew where she was.
	She made her way over to the hallway entry, being as quiet as she could, even though the throbbing in her leg constantly reminded her that being quiet was probably a useless cause now.  She slowly poked her head into the hallway and saw the entry to the kitchen at the far end of the hall.  The light was off, as it should be.  Mustering all the courage she could, she made her way toward the kitchen entry.
	She stopped at the doorway.  She couldn’t see much in the kitchen, but what she could see showed no signs of anyone being there.  Still, she would be stupid to go in there and feel around for a stranger in the dark.  She scanned the side wall and saw a light switch right by the doorway.  Better safe than sorry.  She switched it on.
	She waited for a few seconds for the flickering of the fluorescent light… she was sure that’s what was taking so long.  Then she remembered it was her parent’s house that had fluorescent lighting in their kitchen, not this one.  The bulb must be burnt out she thought.  Well, great.  Things sure seemed to be going perfectly.  She thought about getting a flashlight but then remembered that the flashlight was kept in a drawer… in the kitchen.  But whatever was in the kitchen wasn’t coming out, and surely it saw her silhouette in the doorway for the light in the hallway dimly, but nonetheless did provide some light.  She leaned herself against the wall and thought about how she wished her husband was there to protect her.  He would have no fear, and walk right into the kitchen and grab the flashlight and prove to her that she had nothing to fear.  Her thoughts were broken by a new sound… something was rolling on the ground by her feet.  She looked down and saw what it was: a light bulb.
	She couldn’t help it, she screamed.  Suddenly, as to answer her prayers for light, a flash of lightening illuminated the kitchen, giving her fears a shape… the shape of a person…  the shape of a person, holding the vegetable knife that she got as a wedding gift.  The first cut got her in the shoulder, and the second deeply across her throat.  She stepped backward, right on the light bulb.  She fell flat on her back.  She couldn’t scream anymore, and her life was quickly fading away.  Suddenly her killer stood over her, and turned on the device that was in the other hand: the flashlight.  She saw the face and instantly recognized it.  
	“What a graceful thing you are, Mary,” followed by a chuckle were the last things that Mary heard.  That, and a final crash of thunder.  As the killer closed the door to the house and made his way into the night, the phone began to ring.  It rang four times before the answering machine got it.  The storm continued throughout the night.

Chapter 1

August 16, 1998

	Connie Richardson woke up late that day, savoring the last day of the life as an unemployed wife living off the luxuries of the countryside.  She was in her mid twenties, with straight dirty blonde hair that barely covered her ears.  She stretched and breathed in the fresh smell of fabric softener from her blanket.  She wished she could just lie there all day but her dream was disturbed by her husband standing over her.
	“Come on, honey.  Get that head out of bed!”  Donald Richardson was a tall, well built man.  The man of her dreams.  He had dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes.  She often taunted him, saying his eyes looked like the dark brown M&Ms… the kind nobody cares for.  But that wasn’t true for her.  She loved his eyes, in fact it was his eyes that first attracted her to him.
	They met the way people meet in the movies— they literally bumped into each other.  It was a classic case of woman runs into man, woman drops books, man helps woman pick up books.  It doesn’t happen on college campuses as much as the movies would like us to believe, but it does happen.  It happened to them.  They happen to be walking to the same building after that, and she did something she would never have thought of herself to do.  She got his phone number.  From there, the rest of their relationship was that of a fairy tale.  The perfect wedding, moving into the perfect house on the perfect countryside—with the perfect man.  Always loyal and by her side… until that week.
	“Come on, babe, you can’t sleep all day.  I have to leave for dad’s this afternoon.  I need you to help me pack,” he pined.  She giggled, of course she would have to help him pack.  He could barely pack his foot in a sock, much less socks in a suitcase.  He was headed for his dad’s house, to sort through stuff left behind when his dad passed away the past Christmas.  
	Now his family life was one that was amazing… not because it was good, but because it was horrible, and he survived it and became the man he was today.  He didn’t speak much about it, but Connie did know that he was kicked out when he was 18.  His father didn’t want him to leave for college and leave him alone in that house.  They lived on a farm and he had always thought that Donald would grow up being a farmer. Donald’s mother had committed suicide when he was only ten, leaving him and his older brother, Jeff, in the sole care of an alcoholic father.  She had put a gun to her head after coming home to a drunken husband who was out to strike her again.  His father cut out alcohol for the most part after that, part of him blaming himself for the death of his wife.  But it was the other part, the part that said she was crazy anyway, that Donald didn’t like.  After he left to go to college he never returned home, except once when Connie felt she needed to meet him.  They weren’t allowed inside, and the father didn’t even acknowledge her presence.  The meeting was a big mistake.
	But the alcoholism apparently caught up with him, and he died around Christmas 1997 of a heart attack.  Donald had to go to an important meeting at work, and did not attend the funeral.  Connie thought it was just an excuse, but kept her opinion to herself.  She had never met his brother, she had only seen pictures.  They looked like they got along well when they were kids, but as adults they didn’t want anything to do with each other.   Donald simply stated that his brother was a good for nothing loser, one that he had no respect for whatsoever.  Every good memory about Donald’s family that he brought up, was quickly countered by a bad one.  
	As far unattached as he was from his father and brother, Connie still saw him as being a wonderful father.  Both agreed on children, but also agreed that they should wait a few more years to have them.  Why waste your younger years chasing after the rascals?  Those years were meant for fun and relaxation.    
	Connie showered and got dressed in her worn-out sweatshirt and jeans—typical Sunday attire for her.  She was making her way downstairs when she smelled the scent of coffee brewing.  
	“I thought you’d like breakfast for lunch, seeing that you missed it and all,” Don shouted from the kitchen.  She was more of a breakfast person anyway.  She trained him well, she thought.  He knew exactly what she liked.  
	Over breakfast, they talked about his travel plans and her upcoming workweek.  She would have lots of practice for the future, Donald was teasing, seeing how she would be working amongst the youngsters as a grade-school librarian.  She had always wanted to be a teacher when she was little.  She always looked to her teachers as being amazing.  To her they were the roots of all knowledge.  They didn’t only teach her, they shaped her.  They had the power to mold her life into something.  In college, she had no bad professors—she loved every one of them.
	Being a librarian was the first step to that dream.  Introducing children to books and getting them to read, she thought, was the greatest thing that you could do for them.  She loved books and couldn’t see life without them.  When her teachers taught her to read, her life began.  She was instantly attracted to mystery books.  She started out reading books involving cute little animal sleuths instead of detectives.  Then, slowly she delved into children solving mysteries for themselves.  Nancy Drew became her heroine.  Now she always ended the night with a mystery novel.  Yes, introducing her students to this marvelous world was her goal.  She was certain she would find a mystery lover or two amongst them.
	“What do you have to do down there for a week, anyway?  Can’t you just go down, sign a few papers, get a few things, and leave?”  Connie asked out of silence.
	“I’d love to, honey… trust me.  But since my brother has vowed never to set foot on the property, I have to be the sole person to look after the auctioning of the farm and all the timber on the land.  Dad apparently had a soft spot for me after all, and left me in charge of cleaning up his shit.”  Donald grumbled, and then shrugged it off as he always did.  “But they tell me we’ll be getting quite a bit from auctioning this farm.  I don’t know… you think this house could use some renovation?”
	“I was thinking more along the lines of a new car or a new computer perhaps.” She looked around. “What makes you think this house needs any sort of renovation?  I haven’t found a thing wrong with it.”
	“It just feels too… old.  And the floors squeak too much.  We really need to replace these damn floors.”  It was true.  The floors in the house were horrible, but she always thought they had character.  She loved old houses, no matter how squeaky the floors got.  She wouldn’t change a thing about it.
	Donald quickly finished his lunch, realizing that he was about to be late for his plane.  As the door closed behind him, Connie realized that she was alone for the very first time in her life.  She had grown up with three sisters and had roommates in college.  She moved into an apartment with Donald during college and from there moved into the beautiful old house on the countryside.  Donald had gotten the house from his boss’s wife who was a realtor.  He had his mind set on getting it ever since he heard about it.  He got it at a nice price too.  It’s a shame that his love for old houses changed shortly afterward.  Now all he could think about was fixing the place up to look like new.

	Connie walked outside to wave at her husband’s car driving down the road.  From there she strolled next door to her neighbor, and good friend, Joan’s house.  Joan Roberts wasn’t married, at least not anymore.  She led the all too common life of a woman who got married, had a kid and led a wonderfully happy life until the night she caught her husband with another woman.  She moved into her home around the same time as Connie and Donald moved into theirs, so they immediately became good friends.  Joan’s son, Paul, was seven and was attending the very same school that Connie would be a librarian at.
	Joan invited her in, and they talked over hot tea while Paul played video games on the living room television.  Inevitably, Donald leaving for a week became the topic of conversation.
	“Well I know I don’t technically live alone, since I have Paul, but when he goes off to a friend’s house to spend the night it really isn’t that bad.  Sure, you have to get use to it but think of it as getting time to yourself,” Joan suggested.
	“Yeah, I guess you’re right.  I just wish time alone didn’t have to be so lonely.”
	Joan shrugged and sipped her tea.  “Get a dog.”
	Connie frowned and shook her head.  “Don—we don’t like animals too much.”  She knew this wasn’t true.  If she could have a dog, she’d have one in a heartbeat.  But Donald wasn’t fond of them, and she had to respect that some people just didn’t like animals.  She decided to change the subject.  “He says we should renovate. Do you think our house could use some renovation?”
	Joan’s eyes brightened.  “You say renovation like it’s a bad thing!  Its really lots of fun!  Lets go over to your place, and we can daydream a little!”  Joan called Paul away from his games so that he could come with them.
	
	They stood at the end of Connie’s driveway and stared at the front of the house.  “The shutters could use a different color, don’t you think?  Blue is nice, sure… but burgundy would be so much more pleasant looking!”  Joan suggested.
	Connie thought about it for a minute.  “You know? That’s really a good idea!  I never thought about that before.  It really would look so much better!  Come on, lets see if you can do something inside!”
	Joan smiled.  She knew she could pull Connie out of her rut.  She tugged on Paul.  “Lets go big guy!”  But Paul didn’t move.  He was still staring at the front of the house.  “Paul? Hey! Whatcha lookin’ at sport?” 
	“Ma, I wanna go back and finish my game, I was almost done with it.  I won’t do anything but play, I promise.”
	She believed him.  That’s all he ever did anyway.  “Sure thing, hon…  I’ll be back shortly!”  Connie led her up to her door, and invited her in.  She took a last glance at her son.  Her son had stopped on the sidewalk and was looking up towards the roof of the house.  He caught her watching him, and continued his way to her house.  She backed up so she could look at where he was watching, but didn’t see anything strange.  “That certainly is creepy,” she muttered to herself.  

	After a couple of minutes of watching Connie’s house from the bathroom window, Paul shrugged and went back to his video game.

Chapter  2

August 17, 1998

	Connie gave the snooze button a good smack.  She could use ten more minutes of sleep, she had set her alarm ten minutes early for this very pleasure.  She had spent most of the night, after Joan had left, reading her newest mystery novel.  Talking with Joan certainly made her feel better about sleeping in the house alone and she had gone to sleep easily.  Still, she would have much preferred staying asleep to going to work.  But that wasn’t going to happen.  Her days of sleeping in have ended.
	She got out of bed and showered.  She dreaded turning the shower off and making her way downstairs.  She was definitely not the morning type.  She finally brought herself to getting dressed and made her way downstairs for a bowl of Cheerios and a much anticipated cup of instant coffee.  Of course, she would have anticipated real coffee much more, but when there is only one person in the house making a pot would mean some of it would go down the drain… and that, of course, is sacrilege.  
	An hour after she woke up she was finally dragging herself out the door.  Ever since college, an hour getting ready was record time.  As she drove to work she relived the dream of becoming a teacher over and over in her head.  This was her first real shot at making that dream come true, she knew this.  Knowing this, of course, made her a little nervous.  What if she was deemed not fit to teach?  What if the staff didn’t like her?  Today was first impressions day.  The day you meet the staff and the day that all judgments are made on.  She had picked out her outfit the night before and hoped it wasn’t too dressy, at a first glance people might think she was a lawyer coming to sue the school.

	When she got there, she parked in the faculty lot behind the school.  She had no trouble finding the principal’s office, it was right there beside the door through which she had entered.   Principal Allen was a friendly, tall skinny African American with a warm smile.  A perfect principal, Connie thought, one who really gave the impression that he enjoyed his job.  Never had a bad teacher, never had a bad principal, and the pattern still continues.
	“So you’re the newest librarian, eh?  We’re so glad you came along, we’re stuck with only one librarian, and he wasn’t the head librarian to begin with.  He got promoted to that position last month when our head librarian left to work at a new school in the city—some kind of charter school.”  Principal Allen showed some signs of aggravation.  Apparently this wasn’t the first faculty member he had lost to such a school.  But hey, no matter what profession you are in, there is always competition going around.  Gotta make a buck in such a harsh world.  Gotta teach the children to do the same.
	Connie told him a little about herself, the things he knew and didn’t know… it was quite a pleasant conversation.  As a boss, Dr. Allen was a very kind man who knew exactly how to run things.  As a principal—well—he was perfect!  “So… I… uh, I’ve never been a librarian before.  I mean, I shelved books in college for laundry money but that doesn’t quite give me a feel for my job description.  Care to give a newbie a tour?”
	“That,” said Dr. Allen with a smile “sounds like a job for Joseph Anderson… the head librarian.  Come with me, I’ll introduce you two.”

	Joe Anderson was a short man in his mid thirties, who didn’t seem like he was one of those people who played a lot of sports as a kid.  He looked very reserved in his navy sweater and jeans.  He smiled, greeting Connie.  “Well hello, Connie… don’t I feel underdressed!”  He said with a chuckle. 
	Connie knew that she would get along with him just fine.  “Yeah, I’m a little new at this.  I really wasn’t sure how presentable to make myself.”
	“Well don’t worry, it’s a nice look.  Maybe it’ll even change the faculty dress code.”  He went on and explained to Connie what she would be doing in the library.  Basically she would be helping the kids find whatever they needed to, plus the inevitable paperwork that came with any job.  “We have a class scheduled to come in tomorrow, do you think you’d like to stretch your legs a little and tell them about the library?”
	Connie felt a rush of excitement.  Her second day on her job would be taking her almost in reach of her dream.  “Of course!  That would be great!” She said, probably with a little too much enthusiasm.  She blushed at this.
	Joe caught on.  “Hey, if you didn’t like kids you’d be in the wrong business, eh?”  They both got a chuckle out of this.  “So tell me, have you lived in town long or did you just move here?”
	“I’ve lived here for two years, “ she replied.  “It’s a wonderful little town.  Nice and quiet… I like that.”
	“Yeah, not much happens here.   Sure when something small happens it’s going to cause lots of excitement… that’s just how small towns are.  I’ve lived here since I was 20.  You’re right, it is a nice quiet town.  I wouldn’t live anywhere else, really.  Not much of a city guy.”
	“Yeah I know what you mean.”  Connie had always dreamed of living in a small town like this.  Live in a small town where nothing ever really happened, away from all the hustle and bustle of the big city.  Living in a big city always seemed stressful to her.

	The rest of her day was spent doing paperwork, and getting herself acquainted with the library and the school faculty.  The school was a nice, small school and she found it very easy to settle in.  She shared an office with Joe, which was off to the side of the library with a nice large window so you could keep track of the kids.  Joe assured her that the kids were usually quite well behaved in this school.  Of course they were, she thought.  Who wouldn’t be well behaved at school?
	At the end of the workday, she drove home refreshed and sure that she had made the right choice by becoming a librarian at that school.  Where some people despised their job, she would look forward to going to work every day.  Hell, she might even become a morning person.  
	When she got home, she turned on the television to watch the news and started a pot of water for tea.  Donald would be calling very shortly, and she had lots to tell him about.  She just hoped that he had a good day.  She worried about him, she knew how hard it probably was for him to deal with his family affairs.  She wished that she could have gone with him to keep him company, but he insisted she stay home.  He knew how important this job was to her.
	
	Sure enough, after about ten minutes Donald called.  He had just gotten settled into his hotel room after a day of meeting with lawyers.  “Nothing much to tell about there, all they were talkin’ about was red tape.  Had about three cups of coffee today to stay awake through all of it.”  Connie was glad that it was just red tape.  Red tape didn’t bother him very much, so he wasn’t in a bad mood.  
Connie went on and told him about her day.   “…And it’s such a nice school for a little town.  You should see the library, we didn’t have that many books when we were that age.  I really think this job is a step in the right direction for me!”
Don’s voice cheered up.  “Well that’s great, honey!  Do I smell a career cookin’?” She was glad that he was honestly happy for her.  Leave it to Donald to support her in whatever she chose for a career.  It was great to have a man so supportive of her.  It fed her optimistic view of life.  They talked at great length about her career and about his week ahead of him.  She was so glad that he was in a good mood.  She just hoped his week kept on like that.

After talking to Don, she made herself up some macaroni and cheese and watched her primetime shows.  But afterwards, she wasn’t ready for bed.  She was still wound up from her wonderful day.  What better way to end a wonderful day, than with a wonderful book?  She picked up her mystery novel, sat in her recliner, and began to read.
Outside, a storm was starting to pick up.  She didn’t mind, she was completely oblivious to it.  In fact, the only light on in the house was around her chair.  That was all that mattered in the world right now, her book and her chair.  She read on.  She was really into her story; she got like that a lot.  She was into books with lots of suspense, and this particular book was filled with it.  Who knows what could be lurking on the next page.  Suddenly lighting crashed outside, causing her to jump.  She put her book down and tried to catch her breath.  Now that was a good book.  Reading it during a storm, however, might be overdoing it.  She sat in her chair, calming herself down before she would pick up the book again… and that is when she heard the sound.
The creak.  The creak that never really bothered her before now.  But now, that creak bothered her.  That creak meant someone was in the kitchen.

Chapter 3

	It was almost as if the storm had stopped.  Everything to Connie was quiet… she couldn’t even hear the constant banging of the rain on the copper roof over the bay window.  She only heard what she was listening for… an assurance that she had just dreamed up the sound she thought she had just heard.  That assurance never came, she heard the sound a second time.  The kitchen floor was definitely creaking.  
	She was so frightened she could barely stand, yet somehow she found the means to.  Without turning around, she felt the wall behind her for the light switch and immediately turned it on.  Unfortunately, for once, the addition of light wasn’t as comforting as she had hoped.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight unless she knew for sure that her imagination had dreamed up that sound.  She must go to the kitchen.
	Ever so carefully, one trembling foot in front of the other, she slowly made it to the hallway.  The kitchen is pitch dark, she cannot make out if anyone was in there or not.  Suddenly she got a rush of panic.  She remembered the number of large knives she kept in there.  That would be the first place that she would go for a weapon.  Unfortunately, someone or something had already beaten her to the punch.
	She dared not make a sound as she crept towards the kitchen doorway, though she was illuminated by the lights she had turned on in the living room so the being in the kitchen would have to be blind not to see her.  She tried her best to listen for a sound coming from the kitchen, but the rain was coming down hard now and it was difficult for her to hear anything else.  
	It felt like an hour had passed when she finally reached the kitchen doorway, but it had really only been about a minute.  All she had to do was reach inside and turn on the kitchen light and all would be revealed, for better or worse.  Slowly she moved her hand toward the switch.  If whatever was in the kitchen wanted her dead, it had its chance then.  She turned the light on.
	The kitchen was empty.  She sighed a quick breath of relief, her heart still pounding from her short adventure.  Still, something was not right.  There was a drawer open, one that she didn’t remember leaving open.  She rushed over to the drawer; all that was in it was oven mitts.  She thought back to her dinner.  She hadn’t used the oven mitts, so why was the drawer open.  She reached for the knife drawer and opened it.  All knives were accounted for, unless someone wanted to attack her with a butter knife.  But the oven mitt drawer bothered her for some reason.
	THUD.  The sound came from the living room.  Her pulse sped up even quicker than before.  How could someone be in the living room already?  She thought in a rush of confusion.  The only other door that led to the kitchen opened to the outside.  She ran over and checked it.  Sure enough, it was locked.  She inched her way out of the kitchen and back to the living room, peeking in before she entered.
	Empty.  No sign of anyone else but her.  She almost wanted to see someone there, so she would know that she wasn’t crazy.  She knew she would have to check the house before she could get back to reading.  She went all over, turning on lights as she went, upstairs and downstairs.  The search revealed nothing.  
	Connie went back downstairs and picked up her book and began to read, once again.  After reading two lines she realized she was in no condition to read.  She sighed and closed her book.  She didn’t know if she could sleep tonight.  She made her way upstairs anyways and went to sleep.  The rain was still pouring down hard, but other than that she heard no more sounds.  However, there were a few sounds that the rain shrouded.  The coffee table slowly scooting back to its original position for instance.  It had been moved slightly, Connie hadn’t noticed. Then there was the soft rocking of the very recliner Connie was just sitting in only moments before.  The very same recliner that was now absolutely empty.

Chapter 4

August 18, 1998

	Connie soon forgot the noise incident and sleep caught up with her, as it always did.  When she woke up the next morning, she no longer felt the weight of the night on her as she normally did when waking up.  No, this morning was different.  She was ready to go, she was excited, and she almost didn’t need a cup of coffee.  Though, one should never leave the house without it.
	Today was the day she got to interact with the kids.  She rolled that idea over and over in her head during the drive to work.  She daydreamed about what it would be like.  Surely, this is how every teacher thinks during their first drive to work.  She could hardly stand it, this was almost too good to be true.  After all, how many people actually get this close to their dreams?
	The parking space that she used the day before was still vacant.  Pulling into it, she couldn’t help to be excited that this may become her regular parking space.  She immediately felt accepted.  She walked into school and almost right into the principal’s office before she realized that she should go right to work.  After all, she had a job to do.

	“Well, well.  I’m impressed,” Joe said, looking at his watch.  “Right on time.  And looking awake as ever, might I add.  I wish I could do that.”  He shook his head but smiled.  They were going to get along nicely, Connie thought.  
	Joe went on to explain to her what she would be doing that day.  “When kids come to school, we don’t expect them to just wander into the library and discover they like reading.  They need a little push, that’s what we’re for.  Our job today is to tell them about the library and get them interested in reading.  Now, usually the new librarians don’t do this, they just watch.  You, on the other hand, seem to be ready for it… you really do love this job, don’t you?”
	“Yes,” Connie blushed.  “It’s been my dream to work with children all my life.”
	“Well then we’re glad to have you.  I honestly wish there were more like ya out there.”

	Joe explained some more things to Connie about procedure, which was very loose, and Connie was ready to see if she had what it takes.  The first class came in, and what a pleasant surprise:  Joan’s son, Paul was in the class!  This made Connie comfortable, knowing that there was a familiar face in the crowd.  With that in mind, Connie couldn’t help but look at the rest of the day in absolute optimism.
	She began by telling them the basics.  What the library was, why it was important, and why they should feel very privileged to have access to one.  Of course, with privileges come obligations, so she went over the rules as well.  Afterwards came her favorite part, the part she had been mentally preparing for all morning.  Getting them actually interested in going to the library.  You can show someone a pencil and demonstrate how it works, but with no desire to use the pencil, that demonstration is useless to the person.  At least, this is how Connie always imagined it.  So she began to tell the children how to find books on any subject they wanted.
	“So,” Connie said to the group of children “tell me, what subject would you want to learn about from the library?”  No one responded.  Connie expected this, it seemed to be a common response among children when presented a sentence with the word learn in it.  She tried again.  “It doesn’t have to be school related.  Think of reading as something fun.  What kind of stories do you like?”
	One child, a little girl, raised her hand.  She understood.  “Do ya have any books on outer space?” She challenged.  
	Connie smiled.  She accepted the little girl’s challenge.  “Yes, we certainly do!”  She directed the children over to the section that was home to the books on outer space.  She then began to do her job… to get the children interested in reading.  “Did you know that our solar system is made up of a sun and nine planets?”  Connie asked.  A few children nodded their heads.  “Well then, did you know that there are billions of stars out there?  And each star is like our sun, and probably has planets around them too?  There could be billions of Earths out there, just waiting for us to discover them?”
	“Nuh-uh!” One little boy refuted.  “They ain’t Earths… they got purple trees an’ green water!” A few giggles erupted from some of the other students.  The little boy didn’t, however.  He was being completely serious.
	“You’re right!”  Connie agreed.  “Their planets are probably very different from ours.  And because of this, they probably look different from us as well.  They probably have three eyes and eight legs.  There is no reason for them, or their planet, to look like ours.  On the other hand, they could look exactly like us… in fact, one of them might look exactly like you.”  Connie pointed at the little boy.  He gasped and uttered a whispered “cool!”  Connie smiled in satisfaction on his response.  “Does anyone else have a subject that you would like to read about?”  
There was a pause while everyone thought.  Paul, in particular, looked very deep in thought.  Finally he raised his hand slowly. Connie nodded in his direction, letting him know he could ask.  “I’d like to learn about ghosts,” he announced.
“Oooo, ghosts!”  Connie directed them over to another shelf.  “Would you all like to hear a little ghost story?”  The children nodded.  Connie thought quickly, remembering all of parts of the story she had in mind, and began.

“This happened around 1955.  Back then, the high school dance was a huge event, even larger than it is nowadays.  Well, the dance was that night, and Billy Hatcher didn’t have a date.  He was driving down a dark deserted highway to the dance that night, when he saw a girl in a beautiful blue dress on the side of the road.  She wasn’t around a car, so he was puzzled as to why she was there.  Being the nice young man that he was, he pulled over and asked her if she needed anything.
“’I need a ride to the dance.  I’m afraid my ride couldn’t make it that far, they could only drive as far as Calliope Way.’  She looked very sad, and very cold so he said that he would be glad to bring her to the dance.  Once in the car she stated her name was Elizabeth.  Billy couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, but he also couldn’t help but notice how sad she looked.  She kept looking down at her lap.  He asked again why her ride couldn’t take her, but all she would say was ‘They just couldn’t make it past Calliope Way.’  
“Finally they arrived at the high school.  That seemed to brighten Elizabeth up some and she asked Billy if he had anyone to dance with.  He said he didn’t, and they danced.  She was cold to the touch, but she smelled of flowers.  It really brightened Billy’s night and seemed to brighten hers even more.  All sadness was gone from her face, replaced by a large smile.
“It was finally time to go home, and Billy offered to drive her home.  When they finally made it outside, it was colder than before so Billy gave her his coat to wear.  She told him where her house was and they started their way home.  When they got there she made an odd request.  ‘Please don’t walk me to the door, I don’t want to worry mother.’  He didn’t question her, only gave her a kiss on the cheek.  ‘Thank you, Billy Hatcher… you don’t know how happy you made me.’  She got out of the car, walked to the door of the house, and to Billy’s surprise she disappeared.
“Billy couldn’t believe his eyes.  He jumped out of the car and rang the doorbell.  A woman came to the door.  ‘May I see you’re daughter ma’am?  I must talk to her!’ he asked.  The woman had a look of sadness about her.  ‘I’m sorry, my daughter died almost five years ago in a car accident.  She now lives at Belmont cemetery up the road.’
“Billy didn’t have any trouble finding her tombstone, his coat was draped over it.  The writing on the grave confirmed the woman’s story.  Billy could not believe his eyes.  Under the date was written ‘A loving daughter, killed by a drunk driver on Calliope Way.’”

Connie allowed the story a moment to sink in.  She heard that story when she was little and loved it ever since.  It seemed to have the greatest impact on Paul.  “Did that woman have long, dark hair?” He asked finally.
Connie looked back into her image of the story.  “No, Paul.  I think she had blonde hair.”
Paul looked disappointed.  “Oh.” He finally said softly.  He looked up and then asked after a pause  “Then she’s not the dark haired lady that lives at your house?”
Before Connie could respond, another little boy in the class spoke up.  “Pauley, Pauley!  Is she the one that lives in the Curtis place?”
Before Paul could respond, Connie spoke up.  “Wait a minute… what Curtis place?  What dark haired lady?”  Connie was definitely beginning to get brushed the wrong way.
“Some couple disappeared from there a long time ago, I heard.” Paul began, telling a little story of his own.  “They said they found the guy dead… but they never found the woman.  But I seen her!  I seen her around!  She got long dark brown hair… she’s pretty… an she’s sad just like that woman in your st—“ 
“That’s enough for today, class!” Their teacher, who had been listening in, interrupted.  She pointed a stern finger at Paul.  “I’ll talk to you when we get back to class!”  Paul looked at his feet and shuffled his way out of the library following the rest of his classmates.  

Connie had been shaken up by that story, but forgot about it by lunchtime.  On her way home, she decided to treat herself to some Chinese food at the local Chinese restaurant.  When she finally made it home, there was a message waiting for her on her answering machine.  It was her husband, he sounded very tired.
“Hey baby, its me Don.  Things went alright today, better than I thought at least.  I hope your day at work went okay, though I’m sure you dazzled them all.  Listen, I’m going to goto sleep in awhile and the hotel disconnects my phone when I goto bed so if you miss me, I’m sorry.  I hope to talk to you soon, babe, and I hope to be back as soon as possible.  Night sweetie, I love you.”
Connie called Don’s hotel, sure enough the phone had been disconnected.  Shit if she had only eaten at home.  She made a mental note to eat at home the next night.  She was tired herself, and decided to skip reading for that night and to go straight to bed.

On her way up the stairs, however, she noticed a houseplant had been knocked over.  Strange, what could have done that?  Connie thought it over and decided just to clean it up and go to bed.  She had probably knocked it over that morning in her rush out the door anyway.  Sure she worried about it before she went to sleep… tossed and turned a few times… but eventually she made it to sleep.  It would soon prove to be a greater challenge to stay asleep, however…

Chapter  5

	That night, Connie dreamed.  The dream started out normally enough.  She was sitting in her recliner, reading her novel.  She could hear rain tapping against the copper roof over the bay window.  A stormy night, just like the night she heard the noise.  She put down the book and thought about looking in the kitchen.  Somehow she felt she needed to.  Those thoughts were quickly replaced by a sound.  The sound of someone knocking on the front door.
	Who could that be at this time of night, Connie thought as she got up to answer the door.  There was a lady at the door, about her age.  She was drenched from the rain.  Her long brown hair was pasted to her face, which was pale white.  She was shivering.
	“Could I please use your phone?  My car has broken down, and I need to call my husband to pick me up.”  Connie looked past her onto the road.  Sure enough, there was a white sedan parked on the road beside her driveway.  She opened the door wider as to let the woman in.  She said not a word to the woman, but started boiling a pot of water for tea.  The woman called her husband as she did this, but she heard none of the conversation.
	Connie quietly made the woman and herself cups of hot tea.  They both sat down at the table.  The woman had dried completely and was no longer shivering, yet was still pale as ever and cold to the touch.  She began to speak again.
	“I use to live here, you know.  Everyone thinks I’m missing… I’m sure you know that by now, right?”  Connie just stared at her, expressionless.  The woman, however, had an excited look about her.  “I was never lost, myself—the town lost me, but I know exactly where I am.  Right here!”  She giggled.  Suddenly her face became stern and she leaned in closer to Connie.  Connie, didn’t move however… she just stared forward.  “Let me tell you something.  The town?  They don’t know jack shit!  They misunderstand everything.  You shouldn’t believe all the rumors.”
	They both stood up from the table.  The woman looked around, her eyes wide.  A huge smile spread across her face.  “I just love what you’ve done to the place.”  Connie made no response.  The woman walked to the front door and opened it, looking outside.  “Well, my husband is here to take me away, as usual.  Thanks for the… hospitality.”  She walked out the door.  Connie watched her walk down the driveway to her car.  She couldn’t see anyone waiting for her.  Suddenly the woman vanished into thin air.
	Suddenly, as if given permission, Connie could express her emotions once again.  She did what she had wanted to do since she laid her eyes on the woman.  She screamed.

	The last bit of her dream woke her from her slumber.  That was a crash of thunder.  Connie gasped.  What had she dreamed?  Had Paul’s story gotten to her that badly?  She shook her head. The sound of thunder resonated in her mind.  Suddenly she realized it wasn’t thunder at all.  Someone was banging, rather heavily, on her front door.

Chapter  6

Connie panicked.  She could remember the dream as it had actually happened.  She had actually watched that woman walk out her front door and disappear.  The same front door that something was currently using as a punching bag.  She didn’t know what to do.  She couldn’t see the front door from her bedroom window so she couldn’t very well see who was there.  She wasn’t about to go and look downstairs.  Instead she locked her bedroom door and picked up the phone to call the police.
She got a hold of Sheriff Franklin, someone she knew.  She breathed a small sigh of relief.  She explained her situation and he said he would personally come down with another officer since it was a slow night.  Connie thanked him and hung up.  
Suddenly the banging stopped.  Connie ventured over to her door and opened it slowly.  The door downstairs was still closed, and she was pretty sure it was still locked tight.  The person must have given up.  Thinking quickly, she ran back to the phone and called Joan.
“Joan, quick!  Run outside and see who’s leaving my doorstep!”  Connie spoke quickly when Joan groggily answered the phone.
“Alright, hold on,” Joan answered.  Moments went by.  Then Joan returned.  “Connie, honey.  I didn’t see anyone.  What’s going on?”
“God, Joan.  Someone was just banging on my door.”
“Huh?  Knocking on your door?  Who would come by at this time of night?”
“Not just knocking, banging.  I’ve never heard anybody bang as relentlessly as this!  And right after this creepy dream I had.  Let me tell you—“ At that moment, something slammed up against the door.  This time it sounded like someone was ramming their body up against it.  “JOAN NOW! CHECK NOW!” Connie screamed.  She heard the phone drop.  This tone of voice wasn’t one to be argued with.  Soon she heard the click of another phone pick up.
“Connie, honey?  I’m in your hedges with my cordless.  There’s nobody here, I’m telling you.” 
“They must have just run away!  Damn!”
“No, honey.  The only places they can hide are these hedges… I’m telling you, they aren’t here!  I mean, really… where else could they go?”
As if to answer Joan’s question, a sound comes from downstairs.  This time, however, it was from within the house.  Connie knew exactly what it was, too.  It was the potted plant from downstairs.  Her door was still open from when she checked the door the last time and sure enough… the plant was on its side.  However, no one was around to have knocked it over.  It just fell over on its own.

“Connie?  Connie?  What’s up, what’s happening?”
“A plant fell down downstairs, that’s all.”
“Fell down?  You don’t have any pets… oh my god!  Did the person get in your house?”
“No… no… I don’t see anyone.  Wait!”  Connie heard something outside again… a car!  “Joan! Who’s there!?  The car!!!”
Joan chuckled a bit.  “Well Mrs. High-strung, that would be Sheriff Franky.”

Sheriff Franklin and one of his men, Officer Dean, made their way up the driveway.  The Sheriff knew what was going on already… some kids out to spook the tenants of the Curtis place again.  Suddenly he heard a noise in the hedges.  I actually get to catch one of them this time, he thought.
“Just me!  Just a neighbor!”  Joan jumped out from the bushes.  “I have Connie here on the cordless, I was watching her door for her.”
“Kinda dangerous, don’t you think?”  the Sheriff responded.  “So, who were the little brats this time?”
“Actually… I didn’t see anything.”
“Nothing?  Ah… must have been a terrorize-and-run effort,” Franklin snorted.  
Connie had finally come out of her house and heard this.  “No… they did it a second time.”
“A second time, eh?  More banging?”  The Sheriff looked mildly interested now.
“No… not banging.  They sounded like they were throwing themselves against the door.”
The Sheriff chuckled at this.  “Throwing themselves against the door now, are they?  Goddamn brats never cease to amaze me.  What you have here, darlin’, is a case of the little neighborhood brats deciding to take advantage of all the little ghost stories they make up about your home and terrorize the hell out of you.  Its happened before, trust me.”
Connie wasn’t very convinced, but the Sheriff went on to tell her that he and his man would poke around the neighborhood starting with her house to see if they could find out who did this.  This was enough to calm her down.  She thanked Joan and the Sheriff and went inside.

Once inside Connie sighed.  This week just wasn’t going very well, and she was sure it was because Donald was gone.  She had been so dependent on him sleeping by her and being with her that she was going stir crazy with him being gone.  She had to do something to keep her mind off of everything.  She decided tomorrow she would hold a women’s poker night at her house.  She had played poker with the neighborhood women before and enjoyed their company… she was sure she could get them together again.
She was about to make her way upstairs when she stopped at her plant that had fallen over.  It was a rather small plant on a tall stand.  I need to get another stand Connie thought as she swept up the soil and replaced the plant.  She then looked at the plant and gave it a little push.  It didn’t fall over.  In fact, the stand was rather sturdy.  Besides that, the stand had never fallen over in the first place.  That’s odd, she thought.  She shuddered.
She then finally went to bed, but she barely slept.  She was too wound up from the night’s events.  Could the kids who knocked on the door be the same kids who talked to Paul in class?  Not likely, they didn’t seem smart enough to be able to hide from the Sheriff that easily.  Then Connie thought about the slamming body against the door… that couldn’t have been a little kid.  She shuddered again.  Must be teenagers, she told herself.  But no matter how much she told herself that, she couldn’t bring herself to go to sleep until the late hours of the morning.  And she never again that night heard banging on her door.

Chapter  7

August 19, 1998

	Connie didn’t feel her love of teaching pulling her out of bed that morning.  Instead she could barely even raise her hand to shut off the alarm clock.  She had been asleep when it rang, but the last time she had looked at the clock was two hours before.  She had never had a sleep that bad.  She simply felt terrible.
	She really didn’t want to bail on her job, it being her third day.  She decided she would go in, and if she felt bad enough she could always leave early.  She would definitely take a nap when she got home, before the women came over for poker.  She drug herself over to the shower and then made her way downstairs for two cups of coffee and some toast.
	
	The coffee didn’t make her feel that much better, but kept her awake enough to drive at least.  She made it to school late, she must have thought about coming in for just a little too long that morning.  The first bell rang as she entered the library and it brought to her attention the headache that was slowly forming in her head.  It soon became a splitting, throbbing nightmare within itself.
	She shook her head to get her bearings and realized that Joe was talking to her.  “You ok, Connie?”  He asked.
	“Yeah, yeah I’m fine… just a little headache… I’ll take some aspirin.  So what’s on the agenda for today?”
	“Well, there’s three classes coming in, the first should be arriving any minute.  Would you like to teach them?  You did such a good job yesterday.”
	“Sure, sure,” Connie said, sort of warily, “that’ll be fine.”  Joe had a look of concern on his face but he shrugged it off and turned to notice the class coming in through the door.

	Connie began as she did the day before, telling the students about the basic library services.  As she was leading up to the part where she had been excited the day before, where she would get to really interact with the students, she did not feel the same.  This time, she just wanted to get the job done and out of her mind.  
	“So, does anyone have a favorite subject?”  Nothing.  “…Anything?  Come on, you guys must have something you’d want to read about…”
	One kid perked up.  “Space?” he ventured.  Connie brought them over to the very same place she did when the little girl had asked.  Only this time she replied with a simple “And here’s where you would find books on space!”
	“Anything else?”  She asked.  She brought them from isle to isle showing them where to find the books on dogs, horses, and cars that they wanted to find.  Then one child spoke out and said the inevitable.  
	“Ya got any books on ghosts?”  It was an honest enough question, at least it was the day before.
	“Why do you ask?”  Connie snapped back.  “Do you want to torture me too?”  She felt like taking back that response as soon as it left her mouth. The kid blinked, obviously not knowing what was wrong with her.  “I’m sorry, here… they’re over here… now you’ll have to excuse me class, just for a moment.”

	Joe was already waiting for her by the door to the office, he had heard.  “Connie, what’s wrong with you?  Why did you snap like that?”
	“Shit, Joe… I’m sorry,” Connie was starting to cry a little.  Snapping at a child like that was the last thing that she’d even dream of doing.  “It’s just I’ve got a lot of things going on, that’s all.”  
	Joe motioned for another member of the library staff to take over the class.  He shut the door of the office.  “Tell me, what’s on your mind?”
	She told him everything, starting with what happened the day before in the library with the whole ghosts topic.  “And all of the sudden, I get a banging on my door… and the Sheriff said it was kids bothering me because I supposedly live in a haunted house.  And maybe I’m starting to think I do but I don’t believe in shit like that.  Its just gotten me wound up, that’s all.  I’m starting to think that everyone is out to get me.”
	Joe seemed to be a bit relieved.  “Connie, don’t let that stuff get to you.  Nobody in this school beat on your doors and your house isn’t haunted.  The older kids in the neighborhood made up that rumor.  They tend to bother whoever lives there at times and they tell the younger children that its haunted.  I hear they use it to hang out at when it’s vacant.  Who knows, maybe they’re just annoyed that someone is living in it now.”
	“Well… when we bought the house, they did have to fix a broken window and the front lock was busted too… maybe that’s how they got in.  Still, I shouldn’t have snapped at that poor kid.”
	Joe smiled.  “No harm was done, trust me.  Maybe you ought to stay off teaching classes for the rest of the day, and take a short break until the next class comes in.  Then Robert over there can teach that class and you can take over what he’s doing.  That sound alright with you?”
	Connie smiled.  “That sounds fine.”

	Connie left the office with a small weight lifted off her shoulders, but she still felt terrible.  She wasn’t about to ask to go home early now, she felt as if that privilege had been taken from her when she screwed up and snapped at the little boy.  She needed desperately to wind down before she got back to work but she didn’t want to just sit around.  She decided to read a book… after all she was in a library.
	She walked along the isles of books, picking up one here and there.  Nothing grabbed her interest however.  Then, all of the sudden, she found herself in the section that seemed to be a popular place lately… the section on ghosts.  It was the last section that she wanted to be in at that moment, yet she couldn’t help but to pick up a book and begin to read it.  
	She flipped through the pages, it was full of alleged ghost stories.  She flipped to one story, which was a mirror image of the one she had told the class.  She chuckled.  I guess you can’t give me any points for originality, she thought to herself.  She flipped by that story, she already knew how it ended.  The next story caught her eye, however.

	“The Bishop family, Robert and Julie with their two kids Sarah and Katherine, moved into their mountain home on September 10, 1979.  The house was quite old, dating to around 1920.  It was one floor, and had a beautiful screened in deck out back that had been added after the house had been built.  The Bishops commented that they were very happy with the house… that is until a week after they had moved in.
	“A week after they moved in, they commented that they started to feel uneasy.  Julie mentioned that when she was in a room by herself, it felt as if eyes were staring at her… watching her every move.  Visitors to the house shared the same feeling.  Then the knocking began.”
	Connie perked at this last sentence.  She thought to herself that she should really put the book down.  Instead, she read on.
	“At first various members of the house mentioned hearing slight taps in the hallway.  This was about a month after they had moved in.  Then they heard footsteps.  Then finally, two weeks after the tapping began, a heavy banging on the walls started.  It went up and down the hallway, and was sometimes accompanied by heavy footsteps as if someone were running.  They talked to the homeowners association about this, and could get no explanation.  Then, one day, Julie achieved visual contact.
	“She explained that she saw a man, possibly in his late 50’s, staring at her through the window as she read.  When she ran outside to confront the man, he was gone.  Days later, both children saw a man matching the same description walking in the front yard.  They commented that he was wearing gray coveralls and looked as if he was ‘one of those people that work on the old trains [a conductor].’  In the months that followed, all members of the family as well as several visitors saw him various places in the yard, especially on or near the porch… usually just standing there.
	“After many sleepless nights, and slumber interrupted by ghostly knockings, the family finally decided to seek the help of police.  They discovered that there was a man who was indeed a conductor who lived at that house in the 40’s.  Both he and his wife owned their own train in fact.  One day there was a serious train wreck and he was killed but his body was never found.  His wife was thought to have buried the body in the hills, but never gave any indication as to where.
	“The Bishop’s knew, however.  Sure enough, they unearthed the skeleton of a 50-year-old man when they ripped up the floorboards of their quiet screened in deck.  They moved away shortly after.”

	Connie put the book down.  She didn’t know why she read that, now she knew she wasn’t going to be able to sleep that night.  But at least it was something to pass the time.  She flipped through the book reading a story here and there until it was time for her to get back to work.

	The rest of her day at the library was thankfully uneventful.  She spent the day checking out books and shelving books, staying away from class teaching for the time being.  Finally it was time for her to go home.  She had her evening already planned.  First she would call Don, she really needed to hear his voice.  After that, she would take a short nap.  Then she would call the ladies together for their poker game...  a perfect way to keep her mind off of things.
	As soon as she got home she went straight for the phone.  She wasn’t about to miss him this time.  She dialed his hotel number and after a few rings, he picked up.
	“Sweetie! I’ve missed you!”  His inviting voice rang through Connie’s head.  It was the most comforting thing she’d heard in days.  She thought about just forgetting about everything that was going on, but Don saw through her.  He noticed that she didn’t sound so well.
	“Oh Don, it was terrible!  We have vandals… even out here in this quiet countryside!  They beat on our door last night and scared me so much I couldn’t sleep.  I even yelled at a kid today, and you know I would never usually do that!”
	“It’s okay, honey… they’re in every town you go to nowadays.  Did the sheriff catch who did it?”
	“No… he said it was a group of kids who always annoy the people in this… neighborhood.”  She started to say house, but she just couldn’t start up about that.  She didn’t think Don would go for ghost stories and disappearances you would see on “Unsolved Mysteries.”  He never even liked that show anyways.  “So, how are things going with the auction?” She asked, changing the subject.
	“Oh, you know how things are...  so much red tape to deal with.  We should get it all done by the end of the week, though.”
	“That’s great news!  So I’ll be seeing you Saturday morning after all?”
	“You bet, baby…  you bet.”  They spoke a little more about the weather and how much they missed each other.  Then they spoke their goodbyes and hung up.
	Connie sighed and turned to look out the window.  She was surprised to see a woman outside looking in.  She instantly recognized the face… it was the woman from her dream.

Chapter  8

	“Goddamn!”  She screamed.  “You scared me out there!  Who are you?!”  The woman said nothing, only stared blankly back at her.  “Okay, fine.  I’ll go to you then,” Connie muttered.  She started her way to the door.  She would not be creeped out by some crazy woman staring in on her, even if that woman was from her dream.  She opened the door and rounded the corner of her house.  “Hey!  Maybe you’d like to come in and play some…”
	There was nobody at the window.  “…poker.  Shit, maybe you’re a bridge gal?”  She looked around.  She saw nothing.  Out of the corner of her eye, finally, she saw movement.  “Ah there you are!” She started to say, but again, no one was there.  
	She decided it was about time to call the others together for poker… she was not about to stay in that house alone any longer.

	Joan, naturally, was the first to arrive.  Afterward came Betty and Claire.  Betty was an older woman, in her late 60s with long white hair.  Although she was quieter than most, she was very bright and everyone always listened to her when she spoke.  Claire was in her early thirties and sort of heavy set.  She was unmarried, but had a successful life as a banker.  The three of them made up Connie’s closest friends.
	They played through a few rounds, chatting about the weather.  Those were the warm-up rounds, now it was time for some real poker and conversation.
	“Shall we play for snacks, anyone?”  Connie giggled.
	“I’ll play for some of that cake you baked,” Claire spoke up.
	“Yes, it smells absolutely delicious!”  Betty agreed.
	“I… I’m sorry, you guys must be smelling things… no cake here, I have chips though.”
	“Well, bring ‘em on!”  Claire demanded, jokingly.  She sniffed the air.  “ I guess I’m so hungry I’m smelling things!”
	“That’s funny,” Connie said, deciding to finally bring up the subject.  “I’ve been seeing things.”
	Joan lowered her cards.  “Connie, honey.  You’re kidding right?  First hearing things, now seeing things… you only have 3 senses left you can trust.  What’ve you been seein’?”
	“A woman.  Outside that window.”  She pointed to the window.  The women looked.  No one was looking back, however.  “But that’s not all.  I recognize her!  I’ve seen her somewhere, and somehow so has…”
	“Paul.”  Joan completed her sentence.
	“Was she wearing gray?”  Betty asked from her silence.
	Connie thought back.  She hadn’t even realized it.  The woman had been wearing gray both in her dream and outside her house.  “You’ve seen her?!”
	“Yes,” Betty answered.  “A few times.  I thought she was a friend of yours.  I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you two together… I guess not…”
	Connie was starting to get excited now.  “Guys! I think I know who she is!  She must’ve been the woman who use to live here!”
	“Back to haunt you?  How creepy!” Claire spoke up.
	“No, I think she’s pretty much alive.  I saw her with my own two eyes!  I think she’s pretty sick though… both physically and… well… you know… a little gone upstairs.  I should go see the police about it tomorrow.”
	“Gone upstairs? Wha’d she say?”  Claire asked, hanging on Connie’s words.  All the other women were equally interested.
	“Nothing… just sat there and stared.”  Connie shrugged.  “Maybe she isn’t the woman who use to live here… maybe she’s just some crazy lady who got thrown out of her house by her husband.”  Connie looked back at her cards and then up at the women.  They were silent, and seemed to have lost interest in playing cards.  They just shuffled in their seats.  Claire was the first to speak.
	“Geez, I don’t know what’s gotten into me… I just can’t concentrate on the game… and smelling all that cake’s gotten me plum hungry!  I’m gonna head out early, Con.”  
	“I’m with Claire… I’ve got some things left to do at home.  Call me if you learn anything, dear.”
	It was just Connie and Joan now.  “Joan, don’t tell me… you had something left in the oven?”
	Joan smiled sheepishly.  “No, Connie… though I was going to think of something to say… I’ll just tell you right out… I don’t feel … comfortable anymore.”
	Connie paused.  “Comfortable?  How do you mean?  Is it too hot in here?  Too cold?”
	“I don’t know… it’s like an unsettling feeling.  And now that you mention it, it’s damn frigid in here.”  That. Connie did feel.  Something was definitely wrong with the heater.  “Don’t you feel it, Connie?”
	Connie shook her head.  “No… the only unsettling thing is you scaring the shit out of me.”
	Joan frowned.  “I didn’t mean to scare you, Con.   Maybe tomorrow I’ll go with you to find out who that girl is.  Right now, though… I think I’ll follow suit and head home too.”
	“Suit yourself… a two person poker match isn’t very much fun anyway.  And I think I will take you up on your offer tomorrow.”  She went with Joan to the door.  
	Joan was heading out the door when she stopped and turned around.  “What is that anyway, an air freshener?” 
	Connie blinked.  “Air freshener?  What are you talking about?”
	“Geez, Con.  There goes sense number 3… can’t you smell that?  They’re right, it does smell like cake!”
	Connie smiled.  “That’s it enough scaring me for the night, I’ll see you tomorrow Joan.”  Connie watched as Joan walked down the driveway and then closed the door. 

	Joan stopped and glanced back.  Nothing was looking back at her.  “Damnedest thing,” she said to herself.  “That smelt like the tastiest damn strawberry shortcake ever!”  She shrugged it off and went on her way.

Chapter  9

	Connie was well aware that she should’ve gone to bed early, her body was certainly telling her to.  But she couldn’t.  Not after three of her best friends had scared her shitless.  All she could think about was the woman.  Where had she been all this time?
	Connie went over all sorts of ideas in her head.  Maybe her and her husband had run off to some deserted island together.  That would be romantic but it still didn’t explain why she came back to wander around her old house looking like a heroin addict.  Maybe then that wasn’t the woman who disappeared, but then… who was that handing around her house?  Connie shuddered.  She remembered what Claire had said.  “Back to haunt you?”  The neighborhood kids certainly thought so.  She shook it out of her head.  That was not something to think about before bed.
	
	Finally, Connie decided it was time for bed.  She knew, however, she was in for a restless night.  She was just crawling into bed when she heard something downstairs.  She stood very still and listened on.  Then she heard it again.  Footsteps!
	The sound chilled her to no end.  She couldn’t breathe.  And then she heard a new sound—the refrigerator door opening.  That puzzled her.  She had heard of bumps in the night dealing with footsteps and banging, but never with refrigerator doors opening and closing.  She decided to swallow her fear.  It was time to get to the bottom of this.

	Slowly, she crept downstairs.  She turned on the light in the living room.  The room was still, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.  She stopped to listen one last time for noise.  She heard nothing.  She then made her way toward the kitchen.
	She turned on the light to the kitchen and gasped.  She didn’t even have to search for things out of the ordinary, they were there plain as day.  The cupboard was open, and the bag of flour that was within now covered the kitchen floor.  The oven mitt drawer was also open, once again.  That, and there was a faint dripping sound.
	The dripping sound was coming from the refrigerator, and it probably had to do with the pool of milk coming from the bottom of the door.  Connie opened the fridge to find a whole jug of milk spilt and a carton of eggs open, its contents broken and covering the whole inside of the fridge.
	Connie screamed and ran as fast as she could back to her room.  She slammed the door shut and picked up the phone to call Donald, the police… anyone!  There was no dial tone, the phone was completely dead.  She put down the phone, sobbing.  She knew someone wouldn’t break into her house to dirty up her kitchen.  Something was loose in her house, and she didn’t like it.  Not at all.

	She never slept that night.  She didn’t even try.

Chapter  10

August 20, 1998

	It was six in the morning when Connie tried her phone and finally got a dial tone.  She had locked herself in her room and picked up the phone to check for a tone about twice an hour all night long.  She could barely even keep her thoughts straight now, she was so delirious from her lack of sleep.
	She dialed Donald’s hotel room.  Sure she would wake him up, but she needed to hear from him now more than ever.  “Hello?” A groggy male voice answered the phone.  It wasn’t Donald’s.
	“Uh… who is this?  I must have the wrong number…” She stuttered.
	“Is this Connie?”  the strange voice asked.  She confirmed.  “Oh… Connie, this is Jeff… Don’s brother.  Donald isn’t here, he’s staying at the farm.  They don’t have a phone there, but I’m sure he’ll find a way to get back to you.  Um, we tried to call you last night, but your phone was disconnected.  Is everything ok?”
	Connie didn’t know what to say.  Donald’s brother had completely surprised her.  Something he had said got to her particularly, though.  “We tried last night.”  She was sure it was just her delirium taking off, but she was unsettled.  It just sounded wrong for them to even be in the same room, much less do something together.
	“Connie, you there?”  Jeff asked, breaking Connie’s thoughts.
	“Yeah… um… yeah I’m okay, I’ll just wait for him to call.  Thank you, Jeff,” she said with almost no expression in her voice.  She hung up the phone.  Her week was certainly getting stranger and stranger.
	She picked up the phone again, this time calling the school.  She told them she was feeling sick and couldn’t come into work.  It wasn’t a lie, she felt like absolute hell.  She would try to sleep today.
	She lied down, and instantly found sleeping to be impossible.  Her mind was completely full, and due to her current state of sleeplessness she couldn’t make sense of any of it.  That, and she was cold… real cold, even under the blankets.  She stood up to turn the heat on, and looked over to the window.
	The woman in her dreams stood on the other side, looking in.  Connie froze.  She couldn’t scream, she was so frightened.  The woman outside shrugged, and then walked away from the window.  That was when Connie realized the woman had been standing outside of a second story window.  Connie ran to the window and looked out.
	The woman was walking down the driveway below.  Connie watched her make her way to the end.  That was when the woman vanished into thin air.

	And then, Connie screamed.

Chapter  11

	Connie couldn’t believe this was happening to her.  Not even a week ago her life was normal, and now she was being stalked by the undead!  Her head was spinning faster than ever before.  As she ran for the door to her room she even lost her balance, falling and hitting her head on the doorknob.  She shook off the pain.  There was no time for recuperation, she had to get out of that house!
	She jumped into the car and cranked it.  She screeched her tires as she spun out of the very driveway she had seen the woman walk down moments earlier.  The woman was not in sight, but Connie knew she was watching.  Watching and perhaps laughing at the terrible wreck of a person Connie had become due to her presence.  Connie needed somewhere to collect her thoughts.  Someplace where ghosts didn’t stalk you as you get out of bed.  She sped off, trembling, to the town’s public park. 

	She sat on a quiet bench in the middle of the park.  In the distance there were kids swinging and people having picnics on the public picnic tables.  Though she needed her silence, the sound of the people talking around her was comforting.  It let her know that there was someone close by.
	Her thoughts quickly turned to the situation at hand.  Why was this woman back?  Why now?  Connie had lived in the house for two years now, and had yet to see her.  And now, she appears out of nowhere to bang on her door, knock over her plants, and mess up the kitchen.  Was she bitter?  Perhaps she didn’t want Connie to mess up her house with any renovations.  That all sounded silly to Connie, and she quickly dismissed it.
	Connie thought for a long time and came up with nothing.  Then suddenly she realized that she didn’t even know who the woman was.  She was sure it was the woman who disappeared from the house, but she knew nothing about her.  She looked behind her and spotted the answer to all her questions.  She stood up and ventured over towards the town hall.

	The town hall was one of the three buildings that made up three out of four sides of the park.  The other two were the library and the police station.
	Connie asked the woman in the library where she could find the records.  “We’re in the process of committing the records to our new computer database, ma’am.  I’m afraid I can only browse the ones that we’ve transferred so far.  If you want to see any others, you’ll have to seek help from someone higher up,” the woman told her.
	“Oh,” Connie was disappointed.  “What records can you search?”
	“Well… currently we only have automobile records and permit records.”
	Connie frowned.  Neither of them were of any help.  Unless… “Permits?  What kinds of permits?”
	“All kinds, ma’am.  Permits to fish, permits to own a pistol, permits to run a business…”
	Connie then had a revelation.  She remembered the strange cake smell and the mess in her kitchen.  Could the woman be trying to tell her something?  “Can you browse the business permits by the type of business?”  Connie asked hopefully.
	“Yes ma’am, we can.”
	“Search permits for a bakery business.  Do you have anyone listed by the last name of Curtis?”
	The woman typed on the computer and then paused while the computer processed her query.  Then she responded.  “Mary Curtis is the only name that comes up.”
	“That’s my ghost!”  Connie shouted out.
	“Pardon me, ma’am?”
	“Nothing, nevermind.  What happened to Mary?  How can I get missing persons records?”
	“Missing persons?  Your baker missing, hon?”  The woman chuckled.  “Sara Lee always does it for me.  But you can find missing persons records in the police station across the park.”

	But Connie didn’t even hear what she had to say.  She was already out the door, headed for the police station… and hopefully some answers.

Chapter  12

	“I’d like to browse the missing persons file,” Connie asked the officer in the lobby of the police station.  She wasn’t about to engage in small talk now, she had things to get done.
	The officer just looked at her and smiled.  “Do you?  I’m afraid I can’t help you with that, I’ll have to call someone who can.”
	“I’ll help her,” a voice came from behind Connie, startling her.  It was Sheriff Franklin.

	“Mary Curtis,” the sheriff tossed the file on the table.  It was pretty thick, complete with pictures paper clipped to the folder.  Connie looked at one.  It was definitely the woman she had been seeing.
	“That’s her, alright,” Connie confirmed.  
	“That’s her?  What do you mean, that’s her?” the sheriff asked, puzzled.
	“She’s been hanging around my house, sheriff”
	“Oh really? Damn kids are getting to ya, huh?  Look, Mary’s dead.  The case is closed.”
	Connie blinked.  This was news to her.  She had figured, of course, that Mary had died.  She wouldn’t be haunting Connie otherwise unless she had taken lessons about disappearing from David Copperfield, but she thought the last word was Mary is a missing person.  “She’s dead?  I thought she was just missing.”
	Sheriff Franklin opened the file and perused it.  “There are times, Mrs. Richardson, when you must assume things without direct proof.  Her husband, Doug Curtis, was a pretty messed up person.  He and his friends did all sorts of sick shit when they were little.  We already looked into his history.  We never found the body of Mary Curtis, but we’re sure Doug killed her and stashed her somewhere.  As for Doug, the guy killed himself.  We found his body burned alive in a house.  Burnt so badly the only thing we found was his wedding band.”  He chuckled.  “The sick shit.”
	Connie flipped through the file and found a picture of Doug.  He seemed normal looking to her.   “So you gave up looking for Mary?”
	“Yeah… a healthy person like her just doesn’t disappear.  Last we heard from both of them was that they had gone out of town together.  He stashed her well, and probably not in this state.”
	“How about his friends?”
	“No one knew any of ‘em, just that he had ‘em.  Those that we did talk to that knew him as a kid knew he had some dangerous friends, but no names were ever given.  For all I know, they were in his head.  I tell you, he was one sick puppy.”
	Connie frowned.  “I think Mary is haunting my house.”
	To this, the sheriff laughed.  “There ain’t no such thing, Mrs. Richardson.  You look awful, probably from lack of sleep.  Am I right?”
	“Yeah.”
	“There ya go!  Hallucinations.   It’ll do that to ya, you need to get sleep.”
	Connie fumbled.  This wasn’t helping.  “Then how did I recognize the picture?  How did I know that was Mary?”
	The sheriff shrugged.  “Your mind just filled in the blanks for ya.  I’ve seen it happen.  A woman gets attacked, you show them a picture of some random guy and its always ‘That’s the guy!’ until you tell ‘em it’s a picture of Elvis.  I’ve seen it happen!”
	Connie shook her head.  She had a throbbing headache now.
	The sheriff detected this.  He handed her two aspirins.  “Go home, Connie.  Get some sleep.”

	Connie was reluctant to enter her house, but she did anyway.  She prepared herself for the worst.  However, everything seemed in order.  Everything was how she left it.
	She thought that, until she entered her room.  She instantly noticed some papers had been scattered all over her desk.  She yelped, but then saw the window was open.  The wind must have blown the papers over.  She thought back for whether or how she had opened the window, but couldn’t remember.
	She closed the window and began sorting through her papers.  She ran across the letter Don had gotten about selling the farm.  She looked over it quickly and put it in the stack.  She lifted the papers to put them in a cabinet but before she could the top sheet floated off.  Connie picked it up…  it was the letter.  Connie sighed.  It made her think of how much she missed Don.  Then, suddenly she realized she was looking at the farm’s phone number printed right on the letter!
	She remembered that Jeff had claimed that there were no phones on the farm./  Maybe it was disconnected, she thought.  She picked up the phone and tried anyway.
	There was no answer, but there was no operator to tell her the phone had been disconnected either.  That’s funny, she thought.  It was getting late and she obviously needed her sleep so she decided to try again in the morning.

	Tonight would be the night that she would finally get some sleep, she thought.  But somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was kidding herself.

Chapter 13

	That night, Connie dreamed.  She was in her living room, at least she thought it was.  It was furnished differently for some reason.  She was reading a book, as she usually did, but she couldn’t understand the writing.  Suddenly, she hears the kitchen floorboards creak.
	Before she could get up to investigate a man jumps into the living room from the kitchen hallway wielding a knife.  Connie couldn’t see his face but didn’t wait around to get a better look either.  She jumped up and ran upstairs.
	She was running up the stairs for what seemed like hours.  The stairs seemed to go on forever and disappeared into eternity.  She was tired but she could not rest, for the man with a knife was still chasing her.  Finally she got to the top of the stairs and ran down the hall.
	She ran down what looked like her hallway, only it too seemed endless.  She tried a door… it was locked.  The man was almost upon her so she continued to run.
	She was almost about to pass out from running when she reached the end of the hallway.  There was a single door at the end of the hall, but it too was locked.  Then she turned around to face her assailant.
	It was Doug Curtis.  He looked exactly like his picture, only he looked at her with huge, wild eyes.  She was so frightened she could not even scream.  Suddenly the door behind her swung open and someone pulled her inside to safety.
	It was Don, and they were in their bedroom.  “Oh thank God you’re here, Don!  You saved me!” Connie shouted with delight.  Don only stared at her, expressionless.  “Don?”
	Connie reached out and touched his face… it was cold!  In amazement, Connie watched as her husband’s face began to change… to decay.  It melted off until there was only a skull left.  Connie backed away, directly into the bed.  She fell on her back and suddenly realized she was under the covers.  She looked up and Mary Curtis was standing over her.
	Then, Connie realized she was no longer dreaming.  The ghost of Mary sighed and turned around to leave and once again vanished.

	Connie screamed louder than she ever had in her life.

Chapter 14

August 21, 1998

	Connie was frantic.  She knew what she saw was not a delusion.  And she knew she could not stay in that house a moment longer.  Screaming, she flew out of the room, knocking over anything that was in her path.  She bothered not with her shoes and clothes, she knew she had to be in her car… and now!
	Once in her car, she tore out of her driveway and drove toward the town, going faster than she ever had before.  She needed a place to regroup… a place that had a phone.  She drove to the closest hotel.
	Connie did not sleep there, nor did she have the desire to.  Instead, she alternated between calling the farm and the hotel room where Jeff was staying.  There was no answer at either place.  Connie now knew the message she was supposed to receive – Donald was in danger.
	All Connie could think about was the dream.  She had almost forgotten about the fact that she woke up looking into the eyes of a dead woman.  All she could think about was Donald’s face melting off.  The skull.  The sign that Donald was to die, and Doug was to be his killer.
	Throughout the night, Connie fanatically called the farm and the hotel room.  She never received an answer.  She finally decided to call the police in the town nearest to Don’s family farm.

	“Yes, I’m concerned with the safety of my husband who is staying up there at his father’s farm.  Could you send someone to go check on him?”
	“Certainly, ma’am… umm… is there a reason to be concerned, ma’am?” The officer asked on the other end.
	Connie thought a bit before answering.  “Yes, he won’t answer any calls… and I just have a bad feeling, that’s all.”
	The officer understood.  “That’s a good enough reason for me!  Where do I send the men, and where can you be reached?”
	Connie told him the farm’s address and gave them the number of the local police to call with any information.  She had some unfinished business there anyway.

	“Okay, Connie… could you care to repeat that?”  Sheriff Franklin was somewhat bewildered at Connie’s accusations.
	Connie was beginning to get very impatient.  She had not had a decent night’s sleep in days.  “My husband… is going to be killed… by Doug Curtis.”
	The sheriff leaned closer to Connie.  “Douglas Curtis… is… dead.  Go… home.”
	“Are you crazy?! Go home?!”
	“No, Connie… you’re the one talking the crazy talk here, not me.  Do you honestly think that Doug Curtis is going to come back from the grave to kill your husband?”
	“Probably.”  Connie sat back.  “After all, his dead wife seems to frequent my house… why not?”
	The sheriff lowered his voice.  “Listen, Connie… you need sleep.  Seriously, your mind is killing you here.  Now, we have a vacant office with a couch.  You can sleep there for the time being.  Now… will you sleep there, or do we have to sedate you?”
	That comment sent her off.  She yelled every obscenity she knew at him, calling him the murderer of her husband.

	Ten minutes later, she was put in the vacant office, sedated.

Chapter 15

	Once again, Connie dreamed.  For once, the dream wasn’t taking place in her home.  Instead it was taking place in the park.  There was a crowd gathered around a stage.  Connie strained to see what was on the stage. Then, Connie realized they were actually gathered around a gallows.  They were at a public hanging.
	Connie could see three suspects and two executioners.  The suspects were lined up in a row, they had not yet been killed.  The outer two had black hoods on, so Connie could not identify them.  The middle suspect was Mary.  She was weeping.
	All of the sudden, the first suspect dropped.  The crowd cheered.  Connie gasped.  The first person killed… could it have been Doug?  Mary was next in line and by the look on her face, she knew it.  She called out to Connie.  “Connie!  You’re the only one who can stop this!  Help!”  Connie could not reply… nor could she move.  She wanted to save Mary, but she couldn’t.  One of the executioners walked over to put his hand on Mary’s head as if he were petting her.  The other walked over to the third suspect.  Suddenly, Connie felt a hand placed on her head as well.
	But now she was seeing the scene from a different perspective.  She was now the third victim!  She turned her head slightly towards Mary.  “I’m too late, I guess… I’m sorry…”
	But Mary smiled through her tears.  “No… you’re talking to me… so there is still time!”

	Connie leapt up from the couch.  She knew what she had to do.  She had to go back home, and now.

Chapter 16

	Being the small police station that it was, the only problem Connie had with slipping out behind their backs was her legs.  They felt like jelly.  Whatever they gave her to quiet her down had apparently not given up yet.  Still, she had to get home.
	Driving was her next obstacle.  It was nighttime now, and all she saw on the road were blurs of light.  She shook her head.  She was not about to let this stop her.  She drove on, slowly and carefully.  After awhile, she was finally back home.
	As soon as she got out of her car she noticed curtains open in the living room window.  Quickly, they closed.  For once, she was not surprised.  She knew something was waiting for her… maybe it was Mary, maybe not.  She had a feeling she knew what it was, and she did not like it one bit.  But she knew she had to confront it.  
	She rushed to the door, and opened it… not even checking to see if it was locked.  She knew it wasn’t.  She had locked the door when she left, of course… but she knew it wasn’t going to be locked now.  
	“Mary!  Mary!  I’m here!”  She called out into the house.  No one answered.  Connie looked around, and there was nothing out of place.  “Mary!  Are you here?  Please answer me!”
	Connie started her way upstairs when she heard a noise.  It was a creaking noise, coming from the living room.  That’s more like it, Connie thought.  She slowly crept into the living room.  Her recliner was slowly rocking, making the creaking sound.  She took a few steps toward it and suddenly was startled by a new sound. 
	This sound was a thud, coming from the coffee table.  The coffee table moved slightly with the sound.  It was as if someone had hit something against it causing it to move.  Connie gasped.  She didn’t stay by the chair, though.  She knew where to go now.  She turned and walked towards the kitchen.
	
	She almost made it out of the living room before an invisible force, almost feeling like a human hand, pushed her off her feet.  She tumbled to the floor and then heard footsteps.  The footsteps were leaving the living room, and walking down the hall to the kitchen!  Connie stood up to once again make her way towards the kitchen and then heard another sound.  This sound was a loud sound… Connie couldn’t quite place it.  She ran out into the hall.
	Connie stopped and stared in amazement as every single drawer in her kitchen opened before her eyes, throwing their contents onto the floor.  She walked towards the kitchen slowly, her mouth wide open.  This wasn’t what she was expecting at all.  What was Mary trying to tell her?  Then Connie noticed her feet were in something wet.  She looked down.
	As if to answer her questions, she saw a pool of blood… and that pool evaporated before her very eyes.  Left behind was a stain, in the shape of the word “Help!”  Connie backed away from the kitchen.  She could barely stand.  She was frightened and very confused.  Then she heard another sound.

	This sound also came from the living room.  It was a loud thumping noise.  She ran to the living room, only to find the coffee table bouncing up and down.  With everything going on at once, Connie didn’t know what to make of it.  Why was Mary doing this?  Was she trying to frighten Connie out of her house?  Was she trying to tell Connie something?  Warn her perhaps?  All of the sudden, all sounds stopped.
	Connie was trembling in fear.  “LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!”  She cried and backed towards the hallway.  Then, something grabbed her from behind.  This time, however, not by an invisible force… but by a man.

Chapter 17

	“Hello pumpkin.”  The voice was all too familiar to Connie.  It was Donald!  Only this time, Connie wasn’t very happy to see him.  She turned to face him.  He looked his normal self, except his eyes had a new menacing glare.  That, and he was pointing a gun at her.
	“You killed the people who use to live here, didn’t you?”  Connie was ready to get to the bottom of all of this.  “Or did you just kill Mary?”  She squinted her eyes.  She couldn’t see very well, but she could see well enough to know she was in danger.
	“I see you’ve been doing you’re homework, hon.” Don chuckled.  “No, I didn’t kill Mary… her husband did.  You know… Jeff?”
	Connie blinked.  “His name was Doug, I checked.”
	“Ahh, so everyone thinks.”  Donald was obviously enjoying this.  “But I know my own brother… his name is Jeff, not Douglas.”
	His confusing way of speaking mixed with the effects of the tranquilizer was confusing Connie to no end.  “So who the fuck was Douglas?”
	“A friend of ours.  Wanted to join our little club.”  Donald’s voice was kept slow and calm.  “So we let him.  Of course, he didn’t know that he was to play the part of the decoy.”  He shrugged, and then put on a big, toothy grin.  “Poor boy couldn’t stand the heat.”
	Connie now understood perfectly.  That’s why they could identify the body in the burnt old house as Douglas Curtis… because it actually was!  Only Mary’s husband wasn’t Douglas, but Jeff… Donald’s brother.  What Connie couldn’t figure out was why Mary had made her come here, only to be killed by her own husband.  Was Mary trying to warn her against going home?  Is that why everything started banging around when she entered the house?
	“Well, Connie… enough chit chat.  Shall I shoot you in the head and kill you instantly?  Or should I just let you bleed to death?  This is so fun, don’t you think?”
	Connie panicked.  If she could only distract him, she could get away… but how?  Suddenly, as to answer her prayers, the coffee table leaped into the air and crashed into the floor, shattering it’s glass surface.
	“What the—?” Donald stared at the table in amazement.

	Connie jumped at the opportunity.  She grabbed the nearest lamp and smashed it over his head.

Chapter 18

	Donald fell to the floor holding his bleeding head.  Unfortunately the blow failed to render him unconscious.  Connie ran to the kitchen, seeking out something to defend herself with.
	The contents of all the drawers were scattered about the kitchen floor.  Connie got on her hands and knees to sort through it, looking for her vegetable knife.  She found it and stood to face Donald who was now in the kitchen doorway, pointing his gun at her.
	“What’re you gonna do to me with that dull thing?  Scratch me?  Sorry Connie, you lose!”  He squeezed the trigger.  Connie winced but heard no gunshot.  “What the—how the hell did the safety engage?!” Donald took his eyes from Connie to look at the gun.
	Connie took the chance to run by him and out of the kitchen, but not fast enough.  Donald grabbed her and pulled her close to him.  “Nice try, bitch.  This time the safety is off.”  He readied his finger on the trigger, pointing the gun at her head. 
	At that moment, a steak knife that was in the pile of silverware became animated, leaping up and slicing Donald in the arm.  He threw Connie to the ground as he grabbed his wounded arm.
	“Fuuuck… what the hell are you, a witch?!?” he uttered in pain.
	Connie had been cut pretty badly herself, for she had fallen on a pile of forks and knives.  “Something like that,” she responded as she plunged her vegetable knife into his leg, causing him to scream in pain… and drop his gun.
	At that moment, the adrenaline rush mixing with the still active tranquilizer made Connie very dizzy.  She felt with her hands for Donald’s gun not being able to use her eyes.  Then her hands found it, and so did his.
	“Like I said, Con… you… lose!”  Suddenly a pot flew from the cupboard, hitting him in the head.  Connie grabbed the gun.
	“No, Donald… you lose!”  She yelled with satisfaction.  Suddenly, Connie felt something cold and hard press into the back of her head… the barrel of a gun.
	“I’m sorry, Connie… I think he had it right the first time,” a calm voice came from behind her.

	It was Jeff!

Chapter 19

	Don smiled.  “I suggest you drop the gun, Connie… before you get yourself hurt.”
	Connie was stunned.  She had not expected this… not at all.  Now she knew what happened to Mary… the same thing that was about to happen to her.  In a sense, she was Mary.  That’s why she felt like she couldn’t talk while Mary was talking in her dream… because they were the same person.  Then Connie remembered her most recent dream.  Why could she talk to her in that dream?  Then, suddenly, she realized why she had been called here.  She obediently dropped the gun.
	“That’s a good girl, Connie… you sure did train yourself a good wife, Don.”  Jeff smiled.  “Musta been tough too, she’s a tough girl… Mary was too fucking easy, but you found yourself a winner.”
	Donald picked up the gun that Connie dropped.  He looked into Connie’s eyes.  “No…” he smirked.  “She’s a walk in the park too.  Don’t let her fool you, she may have put up a fight, but not as much as dear old dad.”
	Connie gasped.  “You killed your father???” 
	Jeff laughed.  “Fuck no… we tortured the bastard.  He died of a heart attack, remember?”
	“Yeah, he did, didn’t he?”  Don frowned.  “I guess the son of a bitch didn’t put up much of a fight after all.”  He and Jeff began to laugh like it was some sick private joke. 
	Jeff looked down at the floor and picked up a pot that was lying in the pile of kitchenware.  “Geez, Don… your wife sure didn’t like to clean, did she?”  He looked at his reflection and began to fix his hair.  And that’s when he saw another woman, standing behind him.
	Jeff dropped the pot and spun around.  No one was there.  “Fuuuck!  What the hell was that?!?”
	Don looked at Jeff, keeping his gun pointed at Connie.  “What was what, dumbass?”
	“Mary!  I saw Mary standing behind me!”
	Don chucked.  “Jeff, you softy.  Do ya miss her?”  He said in a taunting voice.
	Connie smiled to herself.  She knew what was coming.

	Suddenly, the frame of the coffee table began to slam against the floor again.  By the sound of it, Connie could tell that it was bouncing pretty high.
	“What the hell is that, witch?!?”  Don yelled at Connie.
	“What is what?  What’s that noise comin’ from the living room, Don?”
	“It’s the coffee table, you twit.  Connie’s up to somethin’, aren’tcha witch?  Go check it out!”
	Jeff walked to the hallway but before he could get to the door to the kitchen, it slammed shut in his face.  Then he could hear all the other doors in the house follow suit, slamming so hard they shook the house.  Jeff spun around.  “Okay… how the hell did you do that?” He demanded of Connie.
	Connie smiled and shrugged.  
	Jeff pointed his gun at her again.  “That’s it, bitch… you’re fuckin’ dead!” he screamed.  Suddenly a loud cracking sound distracted him.  It was the windows cracking.  “What the –?”  The windows shattered, but the pieces of glass did not fall to the floor.  Instead they flew directly at Jeff.  “Awww… fuck!” The glass hit him everywhere, cutting his skin to ribbons.  He dropped the gun, grabbing his face.   
	Connie saw that Donald was no longer paying attention to her, he was busy being awe struck by what was happening with his brother.  She took the opportunity to grab another knife from the floor.  “You want some too, Don!?” She asked as she plunged the knife into his chest.  Donald fell to the ground, still staring in disbelief at Jeff.  Connie ran out of the kitchen.
	
	Connie just reached the door to the outside when she heard Jeff, once again.  “Oh, you’d better freeze witch woman.”  Connie slowly turned.  He was barely recognizable as a human, she saw no skin on him… only blood.  He had his gun pointed at her.  “I’m gonna fill you so full of lead…” He started to squeeze the trigger, but a book from the bookcase flew at him, knocking the gun out of his hand.  “What the hell?”  
	Then he heard the familiar cracking sound of windows breaking, but this time he realized he was in a room with quite a bit more windows.  He stood very still, as if to be sure that he hadn’t just thought he heard the cracking.  But then, he heard it again… 
	“Holy…” the house didn’t let him finish his sentence.  One by one the windows shattered, all the glass finding its way through the house and right through Jeff’s body.  Connie stared in amazement as the glass curved around corners and over furniture hitting him perfectly without missing a single shard.  Then she watched in amazement as all the forks and knives followed suit, as if to make sure he was dead.  And Connie didn’t stick around to watch any more after that.  She turned and ran out of the house… right into Sheriff Franklin.

Chapter 20

	“Whoa, Connie, whoa.”  Sheriff Franklin said in a soothing voice.  “Don’t worry, we’re here to protect you.”  He nodded to his officers who were standing behind him.  They ran into Connie’s house, guns drawn.  “We were contacted by the police who were checking out your disappearing husband.  They never found him, but they found his father… all thirty pieces of him.”
	Connie started sobbing.  She had lived with a monster for the past five years, and she didn’t even know it.  She had loved that man, and trusted him with her life.  For the past five years.  “Why?” She asked.  She didn’t even know who she was asking… perhaps herself, perhaps God.
	Sheriff Franklin took it to be himself.  “When we looked into Douglas Curtis’ life, we saw he was one sick bastard.  We only expected his friends were the same way.  We would have never expected that he and one of his friends, Jeff Richardson, switched places.  He was much too passive to do what Jeff did, and too much of a burden to keep around.  They burned him in the fire… but I’m sure you already figure that out.
	“Donald was in on it the whole time, even with Mary.  He even called the night she was murdered to check up on him, from the old farmhouse.  It was like Donald was the master and Jeff was his apprentice.  The old farmhouse has been abandoned for years.  Abandoned ever since Donald and Jeff murdered their abusive father six years ago.”
	Connie heard this between sobs.  “But I met their father four years ago… how could he have been dead?”  Almost still not believing the truth about Donald, she cried “He just now died this past Christmas!”
	Franklin frowned.  “I’m sorry Connie, I’m speaking the truth here.  As for you meeting his father, that solves another unsolved murder.  They had hired a bum to pose as their father and killed him, leaving him on the side of the road without a shred of evidence… except for a videotape that we found in the farmhouse.  The tape was alongside many others in which they recorded the torture of their father and every single… intimate… moment with Mary through the use of hidden cameras.” The sheriff lowered his voice as he said this.  He had the decency not to mention the tapes they found of Connie and Donald.  He allowed Connie to put that together for herself.
	Connie shuddered.  She began to think about all the places a camera could be hidden within her home.  Then, suddenly, the front door swung open.
	“Sheriff… you’re not going to believe this.”
	
	Jeff and Don were as Connie last saw them:  Don clutching the knife that had been stuck into his chest, the look of death on his face, and Jeff… cut to ribbons by every single sharp object in the house.  Connie looked beyond Jeff to the stairwell, where an officer was examining a video camera that had been placed on the stairwell to record everything.  The video camera was in pretty bad shape, however.  It looked like it had sat in the sun for days. “Well, we won’t get shit outta this camera.”  He mumbled.  “The tape is more melted than a ice cube in Phoenix on a summers day.”
 	The sheriff paid no attention to the camera.  He was too busy looking at Jeff.  “Damn Connie… you sure went to town on this guy.”  Connie didn’t respond to his comment.
	One of the sheriff’s deputies explained.  “I don’t know how she did it, but she force fed this guy every shard of glass and every other sharp object in the house… through his chest.  But that’s not the crazy thing… check this out.”
	The deputy led them into the living room.  Connie gasped when she saw what he wanted to show them.  In the midst of the rubble that use to be her coffee table, there was a corpse.  The corpse appeared to have broken out of the floorboards and it was in a position that made it look like it was pulling itself out. 
	The sheriff looked at Connie.  “Congratulations, you found Mary.”

Epilogue 

	Although the case had been solved, Sheriff Franklin really wanted to know what had gone on in that house.  Connie had been very short on details… and even words.  She hadn’t done anything wrong, of course… she caught two very heinous killers.  But how she killed Jeff really bothered him.
	His officers had gone through a lot to try to get at least some images off of the melted tape they found on the stairwell.  It would have captured everything.  Unfortunately, it seems as if someone almost baked it in an oven.  But that, the crime lab in a neighboring city had told him, was impossible.  In fact, the whole camera melting deal was impossible.  Also stricken as impossible was Jeff’s death.  There is no way, the lab said, a single woman could have done that to him.
	The sheriff put the picture down and picked up another.  It was a picture of Mary’s corpse.  It had, after all, been identified to be hers.  Jeff and Donald had buried it in the living room, beneath the floorboards.  Connie had obviously found it, but why on Earth did she have the notion to make it pose in such a position like that?  This led Franklin to put the picture down and pick up Connie’s psychological profile, as put together by a psychologist working, again, at the lab in the neighboring town.  He thumbed through it and frowned.  Nothing.  She was perfect.
	Perfect until now.  She had become another missing person.  She had replaced Mary in the file cabinet of other missing persons.  She vanished without a trace, without a reason, and most importantly… without answers.  The sheriff put all the pictures and her profile back into the folder and threw it back in the cabinet.  Cases like this usually don’t get solved.  In the rare case they do, they usually end up as foul play.  They usually end up found in a gutter years later, or perhaps in the forest… maybe even beneath someone’s floorboards.  The sheriff sighed and left his office, turning the light out.  
	
	On the other side of town, a woman walked out of town in the dark of night.  Just another ghost roaming the countryside.  Just another lost soul, searching for closure.  Just another bump in the night.

The End

© 2000 David Leblond