Love from the Other Side Page 11

  “What happened to the baby?”

  “The state stepped in and took the child away. They deemed your grandma unfit and your mother was put up for adoption. She was fostered by a local family and grew up three towns away from her mother. She was never officially adopted so her last name remained the same as your grandma’s. Your mom had you out of wedlock, married and then moved away. But, I guess she eventually started talking to her mother again because you came to visit every summer.”

  “I remember when I came to visit my grandma and when we would come into town, people would stare and avoid contact with her at all costs,” Brenda stated.

  “Locals thought she was a witch and made a pact with the Devil to survive all the years out in the woods by herself. They were afraid of her. They were afraid for you when you came to visit her.”

  “That’s crazy. My grandma was a strong, independent woman who could accomplish whatever she needed to do to live in the woods,” Brenda insisted. “She was just different, that’s all and people didn’t understand her.”

  “You’ll never convince anyone around here of that,” the woman said, turning the registration book towards Brenda. “And, please, don’t go out to the cabin by yourself at night. Strange things happen out there; things that have no explanation.”

  “I’m only here to see the attorneys who are in charge of my grandma’s estate. I’ll go out to the cabin, during the day, to find certain things I remember being there from my childhood. I’ve no intention of staying or living in the cabin,” Brenda informed Margie while signing the book.

  “That makes me feel a little better,” the woman said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Your rooms at the top of the stairs on the left. Breakfast is served at eight. Please, be careful. Your family isn’t well liked around here.”

  “I will and thanks for the warning. And thank you for telling me about my grandma when no one else would,” Brenda stated.

  “Flora was my best friend... until she... never mind,” the inn keeper said as she walked off.

  Brenda entered the room that would be her safe haven for the next two weeks. It was small, clean and had its own bathroom. She unpacked and hung up her clothes in the tiny closet. Sitting on the window seat and scanning the center of town for a restaurant to go to for supper, she happened to look down at her car. She ran from her room past Mrs. Evans.

  Someone had defaced the driver’s side of her car with spray paint. The words, GO HOME, ran the entire length of her car in bright red paint.

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Evans commented, coming up behind Brenda. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  “Thank you, I’ll wait here for him,” Brenda stated, frowning.

  Minutes later a cruiser pulled up alongside Brenda’s car. A well-built, middle-aged man, stepped out of the car and introduced himself as Sheriff Gary Holmes.

  “I wasn’t even inside for a half an hour,” Brenda complained.

  “You look just like your grandmother,” he said, staring at her.

  “So, I’ve been told,” Brenda stated. “What about my car?”

  “I have to be truthful. Your family is not looked on favorably in this area. People won’t speak up even if they know who did this,” he admitted. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?”

  “I do mind and I want to know what you are going to do about my car?” Brenda demanded.

  “I told you, there’s not much I can do. I’ll file a report, but I wouldn’t hold my breath anything will come out of it,” he answered honestly.

  “Great! So, I’m just supposed to accept the damage done and ride around with this on my car?” Brenda asked.

  “You could go to the carwash and see if most of the paint will wash off,” he suggested. “It doesn’t look like it has dried all the way yet.”

  “Are you serious?” Brenda demanded, staring at the sheriff.

  “I don’t know what else to tell you, except to give you some advice. Finish whatever you’re here to do and go home. I can’t protect you from the whole town and I don’t know just how far the locals will go to get you to leave,” he stated.

  “I guess you leave me no option but to call the state police over in Towers Point and file a report with them,” she stated.

  “You can do that, but they’re four hundred miles away and I can tell you right now they won’t make the trek here for paint on a car,” he replied. “But, hey, do what you have to do.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Brenda said.

  “I’m the only law around here and you don’t want to get on my bad side,” he said, firmly.

  “Are you threatening me?” Brenda demanded.

  “No, just stating facts. Watch your backside while you are here; I can’t be everywhere,” the sheriff said, walking back to his car. “And Miss Hills, take my advice. Leave as soon as you can.”

  She watched the sheriff drive away with a smug look on his face. Her brand-new car was ruined, and he wasn’t going to do a damn thing about it. She was pissed.

  “He thinks he’s God’s gift to the world and to woman,” Mrs. Evans said, coming up behind her. “I’d rather let someone walk away with everything in my inn that call him to help me.”

  “How did he become sheriff?” Brenda said.

  “Many years ago, his dad was the sheriff here and he was as crooked as the day is long. One night he mysteriously disappeared and Gary, his son, stepped into the job daring anyone to challenge him or remove him from the position. He’s been sheriff ever since,” she answered.

  “What happened to his father?”

  “No one knows. He went out on a call to Valentine Pond and was never seen again,”

  “Valentine Pond, huh?” Brenda mumbled.

  “The sheriff won’t go anywhere near the pond. If you get into trouble out at your grandmother’s cabin, he won’t come help you. He’s terrified of the area and no one knows why,” Mrs. Evans informed her. “Be very careful out there; you’ll be totally on your own.”

  “I guess I’ll go to the carwash and see how much of this paint I can clean off. Can you point me in the direction I need to go?”

  “It’s right on the outskirts of town, that way,” Mrs. Evans said, pointing. “Make sure you have quarters with you as the whole thing is automated.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to go grab my purse. Thank you for all your help,” Brenda commented.

  “Unfortunately, the sheriff is right. I may be the only one around here that wasn’t afraid of your family, so be careful.”

  “I will.”

  She drove to the car wash and ran her car through hoping the hot water would wash off most of the paint. The words could still be seen even after some scrubbing and being run through a second time. She accepted the fact when she got home her car would need a paint job.

  Brenda returned to the bed and breakfast, parking in the same spot she’d left not long ago. Crossing the street, she entered the diner to grab some supper. She sat at the counter and picked up a menu. Several people were already sitting at the counter got up and moved away from her. Now, she was mad.

  “What have I ever done to you people?” she demanded loudly, looking from face to face. “I’m here to sign off on my grandmother’s estate and nothing else. Believe me, I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to and be around such rude and ignorant people. Just let me take care of my business and leave me alone.”

  Brenda picked up the menu for a second time and opened it. She could hear whispering all around her. She was hungry as she hadn’t eaten anything but a few snacks in her car as she drove. She waited patiently for a waitress to come take her order, but no one came near her.

  “Are you serious?” she said, looking at the two waitresses standing at the end of the counter staring at her. “I can’t even get anything to eat?”

  They didn’t move. She closed the menu and slammed it down on the counter.

  “Rude and ignorant; just like I said,” she yelled, walking out the door.


  Brenda returned to the bed and breakfast. She was met at the door by Mrs. Evans.

  “Follow me,” she suggested.

  She led Brenda into the dining room where a turkey club sandwich, potato chips and a tall glass of sweet iced tea were sitting on the table. A piece of peach pie sat at the side of the silverware for dessert.

  “I figured they wouldn’t feed you,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Thank you. I am so hungry,” Brenda replied, sitting down and taking a big bite of the sandwich.

  Mrs. Evans sat down with her after going to the kitchen and coming back with a cup of hot tea. She kept staring at Brenda like she wanted to tell her something, but was afraid to.

  “How much do you really know about your grandmother’s life?” she finally said.

  “Not much. I only came to stay with her for two or three weeks during the summer while my parents traveled with the church. I hadn’t seen her for fifteen years prior to her dying a year ago,” she answered between bites. “Why?”

  “Do you ever have weird dreams or know when things are going to happen before they happen?”

  “Everyone has weird dreams, and no to the second part of your question.”

  “Your grandmother scared a lot of people around here. They thought she was in bed with the devil, but I knew better. She was psychic, and she had been since we were in first grade.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your grandmother could talk to spirits and could see into the future. She knew years before Tommy Holden died that he was going to die out at the pond and she strongly opposed to going out there on Valentine’s night,” Mrs. Evans replied. “She told me he wouldn’t come back...and she was right.”

  “Do you think she killed him?” Brenda said, putting down her sandwich.

  “No, I most certainly do not. But, I’m in the minority in thinking that way,” the inn keeper answered.

  “So, tell me. What do you think happened to Tommy Holden?” Brenda inquired.

  “I think the screamers got him,” she replied, frowning.

  Chapter 3

  What do you know about the screamers?” Brenda asked, her mouth dropping open.

  “I know plenty,” she replied.

  “My grandmother wrote me a letter before she died and mentioned the screamers in the letter,” Brenda said. “I thought she’d just lost her mind in her later years.”

  “They do exist,” Mrs. Evans said, solemnly. “And the reason I know they exist is that my sister is one of them.”

  “Your sister is one of them?” Brenda repeated in shock. “And you know this, how?”

  “Flora told me. She saw her and talked to her at the pond.”

  “My grandmother saw her?”

  “She saw her many years ago when she first started to visit the cabin. My sister told her that she’d been murdered by The Valentine Killer and her body, along with ten others, were weighted down at the bottom of the pond,” Mrs. Evans replied.

  “Did anyone go to the police to report she was murdered?”

  “Oh, we tried. But, Gary’s father, who was sheriff at the time, laughed at us and Flora’s claim she talked to her. He told us my sister probably ran off with her no-good boyfriend who she was dating at the time,” she answered angrily.

  “Why are they called screamers?”

  “I asked your grandmother that. It seems they were all killed in the pond. In between being held under the water, when they surfaced they would gasp for air and scream at their killer. It is their screams which can still be heard to this day.”

  “Was the Valentine Killer ever caught?”

  “No. Two more girls disappeared after my sister did, and then the killings just stopped.”

  “The sheriff never had any leads as to who it was?” Brenda asked.

  “If he did, he never had a chance to tell anyone. Not long after the last victim disappeared, the Myers girl, he vanished. He was going out to talk to your grandmother and never returned.”

  “So, let me guess. The towns people think my grandmother killed him, too,” Brenda replied.

  “Yes, they do, and it didn’t help that Gary fueled the fire by running his mouth around town for months after his father’s death that she did it,” Mrs. Evans stated.

  “Everything seems to be connected to Valentine Pond and my grandmother,” Brenda surmised.

  “That’s why I am begging you to only go there during the day,” she pleaded.

  “I’ve a meeting with the attorney’s in the morning and then I was going to go out to the cabin. I want to find my grandmother’s diaries. She told me in the letter they would tell me everything I needed to know,” Brenda stated.

  “Please be out of there before dusk.”

  “I promise I’ll be back here by four o’clock.”

  “I tried to find her diaries, you know. I searched the cabin, but couldn’t find them. I think someone had been there before me and was looking for them, too. The cabin had been pretty much ripped apart. I don’t know if whoever was there ahead of me found them or not, but I never did.”

  “Maybe, the name of the Valentine Killer is somewhere in the diary entries,” Brenda suggested.

  “Could be,” the older lady agreed. “I hope you find them, but just remember to be out of there before dusk. That’s when all the strange things happen.”

  “Strange things?”

  “That’s when the screamers come out of the pond in search of males in the area to seek their revenge.”

  “My grandmother said that in her letter, too. She said I had to move to the cabin to keep the screamers from killing innocent men,” Brenda mumbled. “Do you think Tommy Holden and Gary’s father were two of their victims?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure your grandmother wrote about it in her diaries; she recorded everything daily.”

  “Mrs. Evans, are you being serious with me or are you having fun at my expense?”

  “Brenda Hills, I’ve never been more serious in my life. The screamers really do exist, and your grandmother kept them at bay while she lived at the cabin. If she wrote that in your letter, she assumed you would do the same thing.”

  “I’m not living at the cabin. I’ve a good life back in New York, running my own travel agency, living in a beautiful house and socializing with my friends.”

  “It isn’t your responsibility to stay at the cabin and your grandmother never should’ve asked you. Just go get the diaries and get out of there before dark.”

  “I will and thank you for talking to me and understanding why I don’t want to live in the woods like she did. When I find them, we can read them together, here at the bed and breakfast,” Brenda stated. “I think I’m going to go to bed early. Thank you again for supper and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  That night, Brenda was visited by the lady in the white dress in her dreams. She insisted Brenda walk to the pond with her. This time, Brenda tried to ask questions before the ghost walked into the water and disappeared; questions the ghost did not answer. But, this time, Brenda was not afraid.

  Chapter 4

  The sun was shining as Brenda crawled out of bed. She showered and was sitting at the breakfast table by ten to eight. Four other people joined her at the table. They were polite and sociable to Brenda, so she could only assume they were visitors to town like she was and didn’t know about her family history.

  Following breakfast, she went out and checked to see if there had been any further damage done to her car. The four tires were intact and there was no more paint anywhere she could see. The attorney’s office was only five minutes away walking time, but rather than leave her car sitting there unguarded, she drove.

  The whole meeting was over in fifteen minutes, Brenda signed several papers, was given the new deed to the cabin property now in her name and copies of all the paperwork she’d need to gain access to the safety deposit boxes. Separate forms had to be filled out for her grandmother’s insurance policy—finished off the package of p
aperwork.

  She thanked them for all their help, and they told her if she had any questions or problems with the estate to just give them a call. The bank was on the same street, so Brenda decided to go there next.

  She gave them the paperwork from the attorney’s and produced her grandmother’s letter with the three keys. The assistant manager led her into the secured safety deposit area and inserted the bank’s keys in the corresponding boxes. He turned and left her to her privacy.

  The first box contained nothing but cash. Banded twenties totaled ten thousand dollars. The second box contained the same amount. It was the contents of the third box which caught Brenda’s attention. Two leather bound diaries sat in the bottom of the deposit box, tied together with a purple ribbon. She carefully undid the bow and released the books.

  The diaries covered a time span from when her grandmother was an early teenager up until she gave birth to her daughter and she was taken from her by the state. Brenda realized something very important must be in these diaries to lock them up the way she had. She tucked them in the bottom of her purse and covered them with her wallet and other items so they wouldn’t be seen leaving the bank.

  She called the assistant manager and requested the money be changed into two ten-thousand-dollar bank checks made out to her and the ownership of the boxes be forfeited. He took the money and said he would return momentarily with her checks.

  Brenda left the bank after asking to use the bathroom as she was heading to the cabin next and didn’t know if the outhouse was even still in existence. Besides, she really didn’t want to use it after it sat unused for over a year with the spiders and God knows what else living in it.

  She left for Stone Creek which was two towns away from Little Tree. Ten minutes later she was turning down the dirt road that led to her grandmother’s cabin. The over growth had crawled past the edge of the road in many places forcing Brenda to slow down to a crawl to get down to the pond’s edge.

  Pulling up next to the cabin, she sat in the car looking out over the pond’s reflective water. The afternoon breeze had ceased to exist, and the air was hot and stifling. She exited the car to look around.