A Holiday Haunting at the Biltmore (The Mystery House Series Book 8) by Eva Pohler

Author:Eva Pohler [Pohler, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Green Press/Eva Pohler
Published: 2022-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Gallatin Roberts

T anya packed up the Ouija Board, and Sue collected the candles, as Ellen held the dousing rods—one in each hand—parallel to one another.

“Gallatin Roberts,” Ellen said from the swimming pool deck. “Please use these dousing rods to lead us to the trunk containing your autobiography. Move the tips closer together if we are headed in the right direction. Move them further apart if we are going the wrong way.”

“Oh, there she is,” Marcia’s voice carried across the empty pool from the doorway, where she stood beside her husband, Brian’s brother, Mike. “Hey, Ellen, we’re heading upstairs to bed and just wanted to say goodnight.”

“What are you doing?” Mike asked. “Ghost hunting? On your son’s wedding night?”

Ellen dropped her hands to her side and blushed. “Sort of.” She set the rods down on one of the chairs and crossed the room to give her in-laws a hug. “Thanks so much for coming. It means a lot to Brian and to me.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Mike said. “It was good to see you ladies again.”

Tanya and Sue gave them a wave.

“Goodnight,” Mike said.

“Goodnight,” Sue and Tanya said.

“See you in the morning for our champagne breakfast at the winery. Right?” Ellen asked.

“Right,” Marcia said. “See you then.”

Once they were alone again, Ellen took up the dousing rods and repeated her instructions to Gallatin Roberts. For several long seconds, nothing happened. Ellen decided to cross the room toward the gymnasium, where Mike and Marcia had just left. As she neared the doorway, the tips of the dousing rods moved toward one another.

“This way,” she said to her friends.

Sue and Tanya followed as Ellen turned left, and the tips of the rods moved ever so slightly inward again. She followed a long corridor. As she came to the end of it, the rod tips crossed in front of a closed door.

“Does he want us to go in here?” Tanya wondered.

Ellen turned the doorknob and was pleasantly surprised when it opened. It was a small storage room filled with paintings, furniture, and knickknacks.

“They have a lot of storage in this house,” Sue remarked.

Holding the dousing rods apart, Ellen said, “Gallatin, please direct us to your trunk.”

Ellen walked past a wooden rocking chair, two end tables, a painted portrait, and a collection of vases to the corner of the room, where the rod tips crossed. In the corner of the room sat a wooden trunk about three feet wide, two feet high, and two feet deep.

“This is it,” Ellen said.

“It’s locked.” Sue lifted the padlock, but it didn’t budge. “How does he expect us to open it?”

Ellen and Tanya glanced around the room for something to use to break the lock. Then Ellen had the idea of inserting the tip of one of the dousing rods into the keyhole. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, her hands were pushed away by an invisible force. She jumped back in shock when the rod seemed to move of its own accord. Then it and the padlock fell to the floor.

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