Dangerous Deceptions: The Haunted House Refuge by Timothy L. Drobnick Sr

Author:Timothy L. Drobnick Sr. [Drobnick, Timothy L. Sr.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 49

It was Mark’s first day of his two-week trial. After he came in at 8:00 AM and I trained him on his work, I went upstairs, hoping the ghosts would like Mark. I remembered the hippies and their hour long seance. They wanted to see the ghosts. But the ghosts ignored them. Yet my corporate employees got ghostly action without even trying. I laughed. It seemed the ghosts had a sense of humor.

The clock on the wall steadily ticked away, marking the passing hours. It was one of those rare days at 121 Granville Street, where ghostly shenanigans were absent. Not a thump from the basement nor a scrape from the attic reached my ears. As the day approached its end, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and hope. Mark’s presence may have brought a calming aura.

At promptly 5:00 PM, I descended the staircase to bid Mark farewell for the day. He was neatly organizing his desk, stacking up paperwork in orderly piles.

“Hey, Mark, how was your first day?” I asked.

Mark looked up, his face reflecting a calm contentment. “It was good, Tim. Thanks for asking. It’s a peaceful place you have here.”

“Glad you had a smooth start. See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” Mark said. He smiled, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door. “Have a good evening, Tim.”

With Mark gone, the silence of the house felt even more profound. The walls held their breath, awaiting an event. What the heck were those ghosts up to?

Seeking some company and a change of scenery, I crossed the street to my regular haunt, (well my second regular haunt), the Rag Doll Saloon. The soft amber lights of the establishment cast a warm and inviting glow.

As I walked in, the familiar scent of aged wood and the faint hum of chatter welcomed me. I immediately spotted Jim and Emily. Both were busy pouring drinks and chatting with patrons, but upon seeing me, they smiled.

“Tim.” Jim called, raising his hand in greeting. “Long time no see. What’s been happening at the haunted mansion?”

“Yeah, spill the beans! Any new ghost stories?” Emily asked.

I grinned, pulling up a stool by the bar. “You’re in for a treat. The house has been... let’s say, particularly active.”

Jim leaned forward. “Oh? Do tell.”

Taking a deep breath, I launched into the tale of Bruce’s short-lived tenure. I recounted the mysterious footsteps he’d heard, the feeling of being watched. Emily and Jim hung on to every word, their expressions a mix of fascination and disbelief.

“That’s wild.” Emily said. “I can’t believe Bruce left so soon.”

Jim nodded, pouring me a drink. “I always knew your house was special. So, any new assistant on board?”

With a smile, I responded, “Yes, actually. Mark started today. And guess what? It was all quiet on the spectral front.”

They both laughed, with Jim saying, “Maybe the ghosts took a liking to Mark. Or they’re plotting their next move.” We all laughed.

We continued chatting into the evening, the atmosphere in the Rag Doll Saloon always a welcome respite from business as usual.

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