The Monster at the Window: A Clara Fitzgerald Mystery (The Clara Fitzgerald Mysteries Book 11) by Evelyn James

Author:Evelyn James [James, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Raven Publications
Published: 2017-12-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Clara had hardly walked into the house when there was a shriek. She ran into the great hall and found Betty in hysterics; a stuffed fox head had just departed company with the wall and fallen down near her. She was shaking as Clara grabbed her shoulders and moved her out of the macabre hall of dead animals and into the lighter front hall.

The moment of terror had passed. Betty began to calm down and her sobbing became less dramatic and more self-pitying.

“It just flew off the wall at me,” Betty groaned. “It was like a demon lunging down at me. This damn house is haunted!”

Clara made her sit down in a chair.

“The house isn’t haunted,” she told Betty. “But it is old, and it creaks and things fall apart…”

“You can’t tell me I didn’t see my husband last night at that window!” Betty growled and the ferocity of her tone quite took Clara by surprise. “That was Harvey, as I live and breathe!”

“I don’t doubt that,” Clara responded.

Betty looked at her suspiciously.

“Then how can you say the house ain’t haunted?”

“Because I don’t think Harvey is actually dead.”

Betty stared at Clara blankly for a moment, then she burst out into bitter laughter.

“And you think me believing in ghosts is fanciful?” she looked at Clara incredulously. “If Harvey wasn’t dead, why didn’t he contact me?”

“He was clearly working on some scheme…” Clara began.

“Scheme?” Betty became even angrier. “You don’t know Harvey or what he was like. He would have contacted me. He would have! There was no reason not to as his family knew nothing about me. If this was some… some hoax, then he could have still played it out while letting me know he was ok. Instead, I heard nothing!”

Betty suddenly shrank back in her chair and mournfully rocked herself back and forth.

“He wouldn’t have abandoned me,” she insisted. “He had to be terribly ill, or… or… When I decided to come here I knew that must be the case. He wouldn’t have left me with no word.”

Betty closed her eyes and hugged her arms about herself.

“I can’t stay here,” she said abruptly. “This place scares the living daylights out of me. It is so full of dead people.”

Betty reached out and grabbed Clara’s hand.

“You should see my room. It’s all laid out like something from my grandma’s day. There is all this personal stuff left behind by someone else, someone now dead. I keep thinking they are going to walk back in, in the middle of the night. I can’t stand it.”

“I know what you mean,” Clara sympathised. “The house is like a museum.”

She paused as an idea came to her.

“Have you seen Harvey’s room?”

Betty shook her head.

“Let me show you,” Clara wasn’t sure why she offered the suggestion, she wasn’t even sure if seeing Harvey’s room would help Betty, but she felt his wife should see his private space and perhaps feel a last pang of connection with him. Clara had no idea what Harvey’s intentions towards his wife were, but she suspected he had lost interest in Betty.

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