Chapter Three
Sabine froze, straining to hear any further noise from downstairs. She eased up beside Maryse, who was standing stock-still, her eyes as wide as an owl’s.
“What the hell,” Maryse whispered. “I thought the shop was locked.”
“It is,” Sabine said. “Do you have your cell phone? Mine’s downstairs.”
Maryse shook her head, her eyes wide. “I forgot it at home. Shit.”
“Oh hell,” Helena said. “I’ll go check it out. Not like anything can happen to me.” And with that, the green blob floated out the door and down the narrow attic staircase. Sabine peered after her, still not taking a breath.
There was dead silence for several seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Great. Just when Helena flapping her jaws would have been appreciated, she had to go silent. Sabine couldn’t take just standing there for another moment. She looked over at Maryse, who nodded. As quietly as possible, they began to creep down the stairs but didn’t make it two steps before the ancient staircase creaked, the noise seemingly amplified in the dead silence of the building.
They stopped short, but it was too late. A crash came from the storage room at the back of the shop and then a terrifying scream. Sabine rushed down the remainder of the stairs and rounded the corner in her upstairs apartment, grabbing a butcher knife from the kitchen counter as she took the next set of stairs down into the shop. She skidded to a stop at the back door, and Maryse stumbled into her from behind, sending them both sprawling.
Sabine hit the wood floor hands and knees first and felt a piercing pain in her palms. She jumped back up, looked at her hands, and saw tiny shards of glass embedded in her skin. Someone had broken the window in the door. Helena was nowhere in sight. Neither was the screaming intruder.
“It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” Maryse said, staring at the door. “It’s broad daylight, Sabine. I mean, I know this is the back of the building, but what kind of person would risk trying to break in right now?”
“I was just wondering the same thing.” Sabine peered out the broken window and looked up and down the alley. “And where in the world is Helena?”
Maryse’s eyes widened. “At this point, God only knows.” Maryse reached over to open the door, but it didn’t budge. “The landlord still hasn’t fixed this?”
“No. And I guess it’s a good thing. That’s why they couldn’t get inside.” Sabine looked over at Maryse, who stared at the door, a worried look on her face. “What’s that look?”
Maryse sighed. “I was just wondering how much of this has to do with you hearing Helena, like she’s some bad-luck curse or something.”
“She can’t control the universe, Maryse. I know her appearance or rising or whatever it was brought you nothing but trouble, but that’s no reason to think she’s responsible for this.”
Maryse didn’t look convinced. “Maybe not, but in all the time you’ve lived here you’ve never had a problem.”
Sabine nodded. “Yeah. I guess I need to call the police, right?”
“It won’t do any good, given the caliber of our law enforcement, but you should still get something on record.” Maryse glanced around the room at the broken glass. “I guess I can’t clean up the glass until after the police taken a look, but I’ll move those boxes of inventory over in case it starts to rain. Once the cops are done, we can figure out something to do about the window until your useless landlord bothers to fix it.”
Maryse had just shifted the first box away from the door when a huge shaking mass of green fabric burst through the wall. Sabine jumped back in surprise, then realized what she was seeing. “Helena, you scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry.” The ruffled horror slumped onto a box against the wall, and the cardboard sagged under her weight. “Can’t breathe.”
Sabine stared at the wheezing pile of green. “You’re dead, Helena. Why do you need to breathe?”
“You know,” Helena said between pants, “I’m well aware of that without you and Maryse constantly reminding me. And don’t ask me why I need to breathe. You’re the one who’s into all this paranormal crap. You tell me.”
Sabine sighed. “Did you see anything?”
“Of course I saw something. You think I went running down the alley in this dress for nothing?” Helena coughed, then wheezed out more air, sounding like a leaky air compressor. “There was someone out back. They broke the window in the door.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know,” Helena said. “Whoever it was wore a turtleneck, a ball cap pulled down real low, and black sunglasses.”
“A turtleneck?” Maryse asked. “In Mudbug in the summer?”
“I’m just telling you what I saw,” Helena said. “He was a little taller than you, Sabine, and moved fast. I couldn’t even come close to catching him.”
Which meant absolutely nothing, as two-year-olds and eighty-year-old invalids were also known to move faster than Helena. “Was that you who screamed?” Sabine asked.
“No. It was him, but I have no idea why. I ran downstairs and when I saw the arm reaching in through the broken window, I hauled ass through the wall to get a better look. Then he screamed and took off running. Must have cut his hand or something.”
Sabine looked over at Maryse, her lips already quivering. One look at her friend, collapsed against a storeroom shelf, and Sabine lost it. Laughter resounded in the storeroom and Sabine clutched her side. “Don’t you see…oh my God…now I can’t breathe…the dress, Helena…you ran through the wall wearing the dress.”
“It’s like one of those B horror movies,” Maryse said. “Revenge of the Bridesmaid’s Dress.”
There was dead silence for a couple of seconds, and then Helena started to laugh. “I didn’t even think about it. I’d completely forgotten about the dress, even though the damned thing was impossible to run in. What a sight that must have been.”
“I would have definitely screamed,” Maryse said.
“Me too,” Sabine agreed. “So how far did you chase the man? Did you see a car or anything that I could tell the police?”
“He ran to the far end of the street and into the park. When I got to the end of the trail, he was already gone. I saw a white pickup truck hauling ass out of the park. That must have been him. But he was too far away for me to see a plate or anything.”
“Well, then I guess I better call the cops and tell them I chased an intruder into the park.”
“Sure,” Maryse said, “and the first thing you can explain is just how you chased an intruder through a door that’s been wedged in place since the Civil War.”
“Crap,” Sabine said.
Maryse nodded. “Been there, done that crap.”
“Hey,” Helena interrupted, “while you two dream up some bullshit story for the cops, why don’t one of you help me out of this damned dress? I think it’s stuck.”
Sabine reached over with one hand, grabbed the dress, and pulled, but the dress didn’t budge.
“I swear when this is off of me,” Helena griped, “I am going back to my MTV eras of fashion.”
Sabine took a firm hold on the dress, right at the zipper, and yanked as hard as she could, ripping the dress in two. “As long as your fashion quest doesn’t include this dress, I think we’ll be okay. I don’t think I ever want to see this again.” She tossed the dress in a box of rags next to the back door, and the light in the room dimmed. She took another look at the broken window. “Oh, no. Here comes the rain, and we left the window open upstairs.”
“You go get the window,” Maryse said. “I’ll get the rest of the boxes out of the line of fire.”
Sabine hurried up the stairs and into the already darkening attic. She felt the wall for the light switch, certain they’d left the light on when they’d gone after Helena. She found the switch and flipped it up and down. Nothing. Great. “Maryse,” she yelled down the stairwell. “Can you bring me the flashlight from the storeroom, please?”
“No problem. Be there in a minute,” Maryse yelled back.
Sabine inched into the room and started shuffling toward the tiny stream of light coming in the open window. She’d made it halfway across the room when lightning flashed across the sky and through the open window, striking a metal rack against the wall. Sparks flew from the rack as the sound of thunder exploded around her. Sabine lurched backward and tumbled over something big. The large object rolled with her and they both crashed to the floor, Sabine’s head banging against the hardwood planks.
Sabine had no idea how long she’d been out when she felt heat on her face. Opening one watery eye just a bit, she saw a single beam of light that seemed to stretch out infinitely in front of her. Oh my God. I’m dead. She clenched her eyes, squeezing the tears out, then opened the lids again.
And saw Helena Henry leaning over her, encased in the beam of light.
“I am dead!” Sabine cried.
“Oh, give it a rest,” Helena said. “You’re just as alive and strange as you were ten minutes ago.”
Sabine struggled to rise from the floor and felt a hand on her arm.
“Don’t move yet,” Maryse said. “You must have banged your head good. You were out completely.”
Sabine stared into the darkness behind the beam of light. It sounded like Maryse, but that couldn’t be if she was dead. Suddenly the attic light flickered on and a dim glow filled the room. Sabine blinked twice and looked up at Maryse’s worried face. Relief washed over her and she laid her head back down, hoping the dizziness would pass soon.
“I thought I was dead,” Sabine said. “The flashlight looked like a hallway…you know like those stories you hear from those people who died, then returned. And then I saw Helena. Jeez, I must have banged my head hard.”
Maryse peered down at Sabine and bit her lip. “You saw Helena?”
“Yeah, but I must have imagined it, right?”
Maryse motioned behind her and a couple of seconds later, Helena Henry stood right next to Maryse, peering down at her.
“Oh, no,” Sabine said. “It wasn’t my imagination. I see her…but what the heck is she wearing?” The hair was the same, all poufy and gray, and the streetwalker makeup looked just as it had in the coffin. Unfortunately, Helena’s outfit matched the makeup. The leather bodysuit, complete with cone bra, stretched in directions it wasn’t intended to, straining to hold in all of Helena. It was a partial success.
Maryse grimaced. “Helena’s going through an unfortunate rebellious phase in her fashion journey through the ages.”
Sabine blinked again and stared at the ghost. “What year did we all dress like hookers?”
“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Helena bitched. “I am not dressed like a hooker. Didn’t you people ever watch MTV? I’m wearing a Madonna outfit.”
“From the nineties, maybe, but that’s questionable,” Sabine said and rose to a sitting position.
“I’m working my way through the generations.” Helena crossed her arms and glared.
Sabine looked over at Maryse. “Thank God I missed hair bands of the eighties.”
“The seventies weren’t any better.” Maryse leaned in a bit and whispered, “Cher.”
Sabine rubbed her temples and groaned.
Maryse placed her hand on Sabine’s arm. “Do you think you can get up? We still need to call the police, and I’ll bet you’d like an aspirin about now.”
Sabine moved her head from side to side. “I think so. I don’t feel dizzy, anyway.”
Maryse offered her hand and helped pull Sabine into a standing position. She felt a rush of blood into her head and pressed at her temples. “An aspirin is sounding better and better.” She looked over at Helena and blinked. The cone bra was starting to blur. She stared harder but the ghost began to slowly fade away, until nothing was left at all.
“She’s gone,” Sabine said.
“Who’s gone?” Maryse asked. “Helena’s standing right here.”
Sabine clenched her eyes shut for a moment, then looked again. Nothing. “I can’t see her anymore. What does that mean?”
Maryse slowly shook her head. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Let’s get out of here.”
Sabine stepped forward and looked down at the trunk that had caused her fall. It was flipped over backward, the contents spilled out onto the floor. “Guess that was one way to get that thing opened.”
“Yeah,” Maryse agreed, “but not exactly what I was shooting for. Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll pick it up later.”
Sabine started to move, but then something within the scattered hats and ancient purses caught her eye. She leaned over a bit, straining to focus in the dim light.
“What is it?” Maryse asked.
“There’s something in the bottom of the trunk.” Sabine knelt and reached inside the trunk for the object. It felt like paper wedged into the bottom of the trunk. Sabine gently worked the paper from side to side, careful not to tear it. Finally, it came loose and she pulled it out.
Maryse leaned over to see. “It’s a diary page. See the date at the top? She’s talking about the crop prices dropping.”
“A diary? My aunt didn’t keep a diary.”
“That you know of,” Helena pointed out. “It’s a generational thing. Lots of women kept diaries during the Vietnam conflict. All the men going off and us left here to manage. Some took comfort in writing it all down.”
“Did you keep a diary?” Sabine asked.
“Hell, no,” Helena said. “Put all your feelings down on paper just so someone can get a hold of it later and pass judgment? I don’t think so. I was damned happy when Harold went off to serve…not so happy that he came back. How would that look to people if I’d written all that down?”
“If they knew Harold, it would look really smart,” Sabine pointed out.
Maryse leaned over and peered into the trunk. “Is there more? I mean there can’t be only one sheet. And how did it get wedged in the bottom? I thought it was solid.”
“Good question,” Sabine said. She stuck her hand into the trunk and slid one long fingernail into a gap between the bottom and the side. “There’s a false bottom. It must have come loose when I fell. Let me see if I can work it out.” She stuck another fingernail in the gap and gently pulled on the bottom. It held firm for a moment, then broke loose from the sides of the trunk. A stack of journals fell out on top of it.
“Holy crap!” Maryse said.
Sabine stared at the books. “I can’t believe it. All those years and I never knew she kept a diary. But why would she hide them like this? Why not tell me before she died?”
Maryse shook her head. “I don’t know. But I think we ought to take them all downstairs and find out.” She picked up one of the journals and flipped through the hundreds of pages of handwritten text. “It may be, Sabine, that your aunt knew more about your family than she admitted.”
Sabine nodded and started to gather up the journals. She’d already had the same thought. It was the next thought that worried her. If her aunt knew something about Sabine’s family, why had she hidden it from her all these years?