Case of the Highland House Haunting Read online

  Jillian laughed again as she looked around the den.

  “Aunt Hilda sure didn’t like putting all her eggs in one basket, did she?”

  I nodded, “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I guess if the house was ever raided, and some of these rooms were discovered, then it’d be highly unlikely that all secret rooms would be discovered, so she’d still be in business.”

  “Precisely. She must have… Zachary? What’s Sherlock looking at now?”

  I found Sherlock sniffing along one of the three bookcases recessed into the walls. All the shelves were empty, of course, but that didn’t stop the tri-colored corgi from giving one of the cases a second look. He sniffed the base of the bookcase a few times and then promptly sat.

  I stepped up to the bookcase and handed Sherlock’s leash to Jillian. I gently prodded and pulled at various shelves until there was yet another soft click and the entire bookcase swung out of the wall, into the room. I squatted low so I could peer into the dark recesses of yet another secret storage compartment. This one, I noted, with growing excitement, wasn’t empty. There were crates – which contained whiskey – and covered paintings on the left side, and the right had more open crates. I could see various items poking up and out of their respective boxes.

  “More antiques,” I guessed. “Think any of her jewelry will be in there?”

  Jillian shook her head, “I doubt it. Look at the number of secrets we’ve uncovered in this house, and it’s all thanks to the dogs. Can you even imagine how many more spots like this must exist in this house? Hilda certainly knew how to keep prying eyes away from her things.”

  “It’s getting late,” I said, as I noticed the time on my watch. “We should probably get going. Can I buy you dinner?”

  “Who am I to turn down dinner from a handsome man?” Jillian said, as she batted her eyes at me.

  “Come on, guys,” I said, as I took both leashes in my hand. “That’s enough exploring for one day. We’re outta here.”

  Sherlock, on the other hand, had different plans. He pulled me, Clydesdale-style, back to the bathroom off the north lobby.

  “What are we doing back here? There’s nothing to check here, unless you think there’s a secret door under the sink.”

  Jillian chuckled, “Based on what we found earlier, you never know.”

  I sighed, looked down at Sherlock, and groaned.

  “Fine. I’ll check, okay?”

  As I expected, there wasn’t anything there. I checked the sinks (there were two), checked the cabinets, and even felt along all the walls. I checked the toilet, which was located through a door on the other side of the bathroom, and felt along the tile. I should also point out that Sherlock kept his attention focused on the sink. Exasperated, I finally pulled out my cell and snapped a few pics, just for my own piece of mind. Thankfully, that seemed to mollify the little corgi.

  “Are we good now, your Royal Canineship? Let’s go home.”

  Once again, I couldn’t help but feel we were missing something. Every other damn thing the dogs had focused on in this house turned up something. However, this bathroom? It was the only strike. There had to be something I was missing. As I learned later, what I missed had the potential of busting this case wide open. For once, though, I’m proud to say that I caught my mistake fairly quickly, as you’ll soon see.

  SEVEN

  “Come on, you sucker,” I growled, as I gripped the controls tightly in my hands. I yanked back on the control stick and hissed with frustration as I felt the resistance on the arm. “Why won’t you move? Get the hell off my land, you miserable, ugly-looking son of a…”

  Sherlock’s growl cut me off, mid-sentence. It seemed to be a new favorite pastime of his: interrupting me in mid-rant. Seriously, Jillian must have trained him to do that.

  Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Context is required in order to understand what is going on. Well, it was now Tuesday of the following week. The work had resumed on Highland House, with Robert the foreman assuring us that there’d be no more mishaps or delays. Thus far, he had been right. There certainly hadn’t been any more fatalities. Yes, it was still early in the week, but perhaps the ghost had finally moved on?

  I was currently sitting in my all-time favorite toy, my John Deere tractor. Even though nothing had been finalized, and no plans had been officially drawn up, I was already clearing the land next to the winery in preparation for the new warehouse. I knew this was the day to get things underway when, after wandering outside first thing in the morning, I noticed there weren’t any cars parked along the side of the winery. That meant Caden wasn’t conducting a class at the winery today. No class meant no students, which meant I was finally able to get at that god-forsaken stump sitting directly in the middle of the impromptu parking lot. The stump even had one short branch left on it, down near the base, which looked remarkably like a middle finger. Every time I looked at it, I swear it was flipping me off.

  Not any more, pal. Today’s the day when I flip you the bird back. So, with the dogs sitting next to me on the small buddy seat on my left, and me at the controls of my big toy with its front loader attachment, we began our battle. The SfH (Stump from Hell) came out swinging, as clearly this thing had what felt like roots that were extending several miles beneath the surface. My tractor was strong, but even it struggled to pull SfH out of the ground.

  “Let’s try this,” I said aloud, as I repositioned the tractor on the other side of the stump. “Let’s clear away some dirt here, like this… good. Now, if we push the bucket underneath that root there, and… nope. Damn. There’s just nothing for the bucket to latch on to. Maybe… wait a minute. Of course! Why didn’t I think about that before? You two stay right here.”

  I grabbed my gloves and hopped outside. Turning, I reached back inside the cab, under the buddy seat, to grab the chain I had forgotten was there. The only drawback was, with both hands preoccupied, and my face mere inches from the buddy seat, it put me within striking range of both dogs’ tongues. Yep. I got doggie kisses.

  “Ack! Pbttth! What are you doing? Stop it! Blech!”

  Both corgis seemed to delight in my misery. The dogs knew that both of my hands were full, so they took full advantage of the situation. I swear each of them took turns, first one lick by Watson, then one by Sherlock. Annnd… repeat.

  “Okay, you goobers. That’s enough. Thank you. My face is clean. Now, stay there. We’re going to win this battle yet.”

  With the chain securely wrapped around the stump, and hooked to the tractor’s bucket, I slowly pulled back on the lifting lever. The tractor groaned, and I had to rev the engine to make certain I didn’t stall it, but I was finally rewarded with several loud cracks and snaps. SfH then lurched sideways, as though I delivered a fatal blow.

  “I’ve got you now, you bastard,” I grumbled, as I adjusted the tractor’s position. I looked at the dogs and grinned. “This will be one less thing I’ll be charged for when we do break ground on the new warehouse. The more I can do, the less I have to pay.”

  Sherlock gazed at me and blinked a few times. Then he turned to watch as the stump finally, finally lifted free.

  “Hey, you got it!” I heard a voice exclaim.

  I looked over at the winery. Caden was standing there, watching the proceedings.

  “I swear I’m gonna grind this damn thing up and use it for mulch,” I vowed, as I gave my winemaster a grin.

  Caden laughed and disappeared back inside the winery. Just then, my cell rang. It was Jillian. Oh, man, I hope she wasn’t calling to let me know there was another problem at Highland House.

  “Hi, Jillian. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. No problems that I’m aware of.”

  “Good. What can I do for you?”

  “Did you take pictures of all the antiques we found when we were searching the house this last weekend?”

  I thought about it for a few moments.

  “I have some, but not all. Whenever the dogs expressed interest in s
omething, I took a picture. So, I do know I have a couple. What did you need?”

  “I was talking to Burt, over at his shop, and he’s expressed interest in anything I don’t want to keep at the house. Plus, I wanted to see if he could identify a few things I couldn’t.”

  Burt Johnson was the owner of Hidden Relic Antiques, the local antique shop in town. At well over 6’8”, he had to be the most fearsome, intimidating person living in PV. Thankfully, I can say that his looks are deceiving. He’s quite nice, very friendly, and is a fan of the dogs.

  “Makes sense. Let me check my phone.”

  “Do you need to call me back?”

  “No, I’m good. This tractor came equipped with a Bluetooth stereo. That way I can talk and still work at the same time. At the moment, I can search through the phone without hanging up on you. I think.”

  I heard Jillian giggle. Pulling up the photo album on my phone, I started going through my recent pictures. There were a few in there that I’m sure Burt would want to see.

  “Yeah, I have a couple. Would you like me to send them to you?”

  “Would you? That’d be great! Thank you, Zachary.”

  “You’re welcome. I can...”

  I trailed off as the picture of the bathroom and its dual sinks appeared on my phone. Something had caught my eye, and it was something that made it feel as though time itself had just skidded to a stop. There, clearly visible in the sink, was a tiny blob of bright green goo. What was it? Well, I knew without a doubt what it was: toothpaste.

  Did you get that? There was toothpaste in the sink! That clearly meant someone had brushed their teeth in there. No wonder Sherlock kept trying to bring it to my attention. The million dollar question was, who had brushed their teeth in that sink? Could it have been one of the workers? Or, more disturbingly, could it have been our ghost??

  “Jillian? Are you still there?”

  “Of course I’m still here. What is it? You sound as though you just saw a ghost.”

  “Funny you should say that. Where are you right now?”

  “At Highland House. Why?”

  “Is Robert there, too?”

  “I saw him earlier. I think he’s outside, overseeing some roof work. Why? You’re starting to concern me.”

  “Listen to me. This is very important. I need you to go find Robert, as quick as you can. Get somewhere private and put this call on speaker, okay?”

  “Very well. I’m walking outside now. Hmm, I don’t see… there he is. Robert! Could you come here a second? I’m sorry, I know this sounds strange, but I need you to come with me. Zachary is on the line and he needs to ask you something. Plus, we need to do it in private. Hang on, Zachary. We’re going to go to my car. I sure do hope this is nothing bad.”

  “I think this might answer a lot of questions, but before I say anything, I need to talk to Robert first. I need to know about his crew.”

  “The workers? Well, we’re both here now, Zachary. Now, can you please tell me what’s going on?”

  “Robert, are you there?”

  “I’m here, Mr. Anderson. What can I do for you?”

  “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need to ask you something: have you ever seen any of your workers brush their teeth in the house? More specifically, in the bathroom on the northern side of the house?”

  “¿Que es esto? Brush their teeth? At a job site? No, Mr. Anderson. Trust me, no one has used any of the facilities here. It’s a zero-tolerance rule I have. Why?”

  “What about any further incidents?” I pressed. “Have you, or any of your workers, noticed anything strange?”

  “Nothing that could possibly be related to this,” Robert assured me. “Please, Mr. Anderson, tell me what has gotten you so riled up. What’s happened?”

  “I have a picture here of the bathroom,” I slowly explained. “Jillian asked me to look for pictures of antiques, but before I could find those, I found this picture. In the sink is clearly a dollop of toothpaste. If none of your laborers used that bathroom, then…”

  I heard Jillian gasp with alarm. Robert, on the other hand, did exactly what I expected him to do. He cursed. Quite well, actually. Thankfully, it was in Spanish.

  “I don’t like this,” I heard Jillian say.

  “I don’t, either. Robert, you suggested something has happened there?”

  “You did?” Jillian’s voice asked.

  “I’m sure it’s just a case of someone being forgetful,” the foreman explained.

  “Do go on,” I heard Jillian’s voice say. “What did you mean by that? Someone has been ‘forgetful’?”

  I suddenly thought back to the missing scaffolding pins and grunted irritably.

  “You’re missing things, aren’t you?”

  “Si, señor. Several tools have been reported missing. I just assumed they were either left behind, at home, or else perhaps someone picked up a tool that didn’t belong to them. Are you suggesting they were stolen?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “It cannot be any of the crew,” Robert insisted. “I personally vetted each of them myself. It has to be an outsider. Now, I will say that several workers from the first crew did return for work, but I still don’t think it could be any of them.”

  “Then that would suggest someone has been inside my house!” Jillian protested. “Robert, I need those locks changed out. Today.”

  “Do not worry, señora. I will take care of it myself.”

  “I prefer ‘señorita’, if you don’t mind,” Jillian’s voice wryly said.

  “Ah! ¿Habla Español, señorita?”

  “Un pocito. Tuve cuatro años en la escuela secondaria. Hablo un poco, pero puedo entender más.”

  Jillian spoke Spanish? And based on the Great Frog Leg Debacle that happened last year, I knew she also spoke French. Wow. Is there anything this lady couldn’t do?

  “Umm, guys? For those of us who don’t speak Spanish, could someone clue me in to what’s going on?”

  “Tu amor es algo especial, amigo.”

  “Huh?” I stammered.

  “My apologies, Mr. Anderson. I was giving Ms. Cooper a compliment. She speaks Spanish very well. I am impressed.”

  “And that makes two of us,” I admitted. “You learn something new every day.”

  “Oh, don’t make a big deal of it,” Jillian told me. “I’m not fluent. I can get by, that’s it. If you want a cold beer, or need to know where the bathroom is, then I’m your girl.”

  Robert laughed, and I ended up chuckling.

  “Jillian? Would you do me a favor?”

  “Of course, Zachary. What do you need?”

  “I need you to either get out of the house, at least until I can get there, or please have someone with you at all times.”

  “There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Jillian reminded me.

  “I know there isn’t. I’m thinking more along the lines of a he-who-is-responsible-for-this-ghost-might-still-be-in-the-house type of spook.”

  “And who do we think is responsible?” Jillian asked.

  “That, unfortunately, I cannot tell you.”

  “Mr. Anderson, don’t you worry about Ms. Cooper,” Robert’s voice cut in. “I have plenty to do inside the house. I will personally keep an eye on her for you.”

  “Thank you, Robert. That means a lot. Jillian? I’ll get over there just as soon as I’m no longer needed at the winery.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Zachary. But thank you. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

  A few hours later, I was – once again – standing inside Highland House. Jillian and Robert were there, in the kitchen, going over plans on what needed to be changed. Jillian was pointing here and there, and Robert offered comments to whatever Jillian was saying. Leaving them to their discussion, I headed straight for the north lobby. Would I really find toothpaste in the sink?

  As it turns out, the answer was a definitive no. I stood two feet in front of the aforementioned sink and stared at the meticulously
clean bowl. Frowning, I pulled out my cell and compared the picture to the real thing. One thing was abundantly clear: someone had cleaned up their mess. The question was, who?

  “What did you find, Zachary?” Jillian asked, as she stepped up beside me.

  I pointed at the clean sink.

  “Absolutely nothing. See?”

  “Oh, good. So, there’s nothing I need to worry about?”

  I showed my girlfriend the picture I had taken the last time we were here together. A reverse pinch on the screen zoomed in on the bathroom sink. I then pointed at the gelatinous substance clearly visible in the photo.

  “What do you think that is?”

  “Why, it’s toothpaste!” Jillian exclaimed. She turned to look for Robert, who was standing nearby, working on some electrical wiring. “Robert? Would you come over here, please?”

  Robert nodded, “Of course. The electrical short I was telling you about wasn’t located at that socket. Si, it’s old, but it’s still serviceable. What’s this? A picture of the bathroom?”

  “It’s the one I told you about, taken the last time the two of us were here, together,” Jillian explained.

  “From last Friday,” I added.

  “Saturday,” Jillian corrected.

  “Do you see that right there?” I asked, as I held the phone out to Robert. “Doesn’t that look like toothpaste?”

  “It most certainly does,” Robert agreed, growing angry. “I know my guys are not responsible for this. However, just to be completely certain, I will go double check.”

  I noticed Jillian was slowly looking around the room, as if she expected someone to come popping out of the walls at any time. I was about ready to suggest that it was, more than likely, one of the workers had simply spit something in one of the sinks as they went by, but now refused to come forward for fear of reprisal, when Sherlock woofed. Surprised, I looked down at the inquisitive corgi, only he wasn’t looking at me. Both he and Watson were looking behind us, directly at the living room.