Scary House: A Haunting Ghost Novel Inspired by True Events by Sean Thomas Fisher

Author:Sean Thomas Fisher
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Bump in the Night Publishing
Published: 2017-07-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Catching Out

Sunday, October 30th, Back Then

Detective Olson studied the group through suspicious eyes, thick arms stretching the London Fog trench coat holding in his heat. He was the third cop to question them and the first to smell something fishy. Glancing at Teddy’s flashlight and flask resting on the hood of a police car parked in the dark backyard, he flattened his lips. “So…you never went inside the house?”

They shook their heads again, red and blue pulses of light splashing across their blank expressions. Olson tipped his chin down as two men emerged from the machine shed, each one manning the end of a stretcher on wheels with a long, black bag lying across the top.

“Who broke the lamp in the house?” he asked again.

“How should we know? We never went inside,” Gavin repeated, sticking to his guns.

The detective puckered his lips. “It looks like a fresh break, or else there would be a layer of dust coating the broken edges.”

“It was probably Hank,” Boone said, shivering in the wind.

Sweeping a hand over his crewcut, Olson released a visible stream of breath. “Gentlemen, I have a deceased individual on my hands here. A successful real estate agent who, for no apparent reason at all, just suddenly snapped and murdered his wife and two little girls before someone cut his head off with an axe. Now, I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Do we understand each other?”

Boone cleared his throat. “We didn’t go into the house, sir.”

“But you were thinking about it, weren’t ya?”

They dropped their heads in feigned shame and kicked at the weedy gravel, mumbling yes at the same time.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

“Yes!”

“We told you, we were just trying to find a haunted house for Halloween that didn’t cost a fortune with two-hour lines,” Gavin told him, which was partially true.

“You take anything from inside the shed?”

They shook their heads no in the flashing lights.

“Did you remove anything from inside the house?”

“No, sir.”

“You break that truck window in the shed?”

“No,” they answered as one.

“What’d ya do? Shoot it out with a BB gun?”

Teddy spoke with a surprisingly calm voice. “It must’ve been Hank, the poor guy was out of his mind with that axe.”

“So you said.” Olson cocked his head to the side. “You got any weapons on ya?”

“No, sir.”

“Maybe I should search all of you just to be safe.”

Nonchalantly, Gavin straightened his coat to ensure the wooden stake stayed hidden. He’d wiped the realtor’s blood off it in the weeds the best he could but it was still there. He could smell it.

Detective Olson looked at him. “You see there? Soon as I say something about searching ya, you start shifting your coat around.” His eyebrows went up. “You hiding something in there, son?”

“No.”

“What is it? A BB gun?”

“No, sir,” he replied, the weight of the ash stake suddenly pulling on his coat like it was made of gold.

“Knives? Fireworks? The evil weed?”

“Nothing.”

He jerked his chin at him. “Open the coat,” he said, making Gavin’s heart flutter like a bird trapped in a cage.

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