The Guest House Hauntings Boxset by Hazel Holmes (novel books to read txt) 📕

Finally, her muscles growing exhausted, Sarah collapsed to the dirt, wheezing. She lay still for a long time before she managed to gather enough strength to lift her head. Slowly and carefully, she peeled her pant leg up. “Shit.”

The frost-blue scales had crawled from her ankle halfway up her calf. She reached down and touched one of them and found the scales hardened. Exhausted, she collapsed onto her back.

She had no idea how far she’d run, and she had no idea in which direction. The pain and the panic had disoriented her. Finally, she pushed herself up and spun around a few times, trying to get her bearings.

Directionless, Sarah started walking. Periodically, she glanced down at her left leg. She thought of Maggie, who she’d watched transform into ice and then shatter.

Puffing icy breaths and still unable to feel the frigid temperature, Sarah emerged from behind a large maple and stopped. She squinted at something on the horizon, but the thick brush and the darkness masked the image.

Sarah hurried forward, the object growing larger and closer. She noticed a clearing past the trees, and she prayed it was the embankment to the road. At a full sprint, Sarah broke through the forest and then skidded to a stop, paralyzed.

The Bell mansion stood towering in the distance.

Sarah shook her head. “That’s not possible.” She spun around, seeing the town below. At the realization she had returned to the one place she was trying to avoid, she broke down into tears. “This isn’t happening.” Sarah dropped to her knees, sobbing.

Had she knowingly run here? Had the redheaded girl been right about her not being able to leave? Sarah peeled back her jeans. The icy scales shimmered beneath the moonlight. If running away from Bell made the scales spread, then she was stuck. And if she couldn’t run, then she was dead.

Deputy Dell Parker had left the hospital with more questions than answers after the interview with his tightlipped victim. He reached for the radio and contacted dispatch. “Faye, this is Dell, I need you to run a name for me.”

“Go ahead, honey,” Faye answered.

“Brent Alvarez. Traditional spelling. He’s a detective with the seventy-eighth precinct in New York. I need to get in contact with him.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Not yet. I’m heading back to the Bell house now to question the groundskeeper.”

“Do we need to call the sheriff?”

“I don’t want to wake him up just yet.”

“Copy that.”

Dell’s headlights flashed over the sign for Bell as he turned off the highway and onto the two-lane road into town. It was a path he was familiar with, having grown up in Bell. And he also knew the family the victim had worked for, which had made all of this even more strange.

Dell parked at the foot of the hill the Bell mansion topped and got out of his car. He looked up at the house, which presided over the entire town. Growing up here, it was impossible to try and get out of the shadow of that house. And while he had his own bone to pick with the family that resided inside, he needed to make sure those old feelings didn’t interfere with the investigation.

It was a long walk from the gate and up the steps to the front door, and Dell was short of breath by the time he reached the top. With his head tilted back, catching his breath, he noticed a window boarded up on the second floor. He walked over to get a better look and crunched something beneath his boot.

Glass shimmered beneath his foot, and he squatted to examine the pieces. He picked up a shard, rotated it in his hand, then tossed it back onto the concrete.

Dell knocked on the door, and after five minutes passed Dell had raised his fist to knock again when the door opened.

“Dell? What the hell do you want?” Kegan was red-eyed and covered in a long black robe, the hem hovering near his slippers.

“I need to speak to Dennis,” Dell said, retaining the even-keeled tone that he’d honed after five years on the police force.

Kegan crossed his arms, positioning himself in the middle of the doorway, purposefully blocking the entrance. “Why?”

“There was an incident reported, and he was named as the prime suspect.”

“If you want to talk to anyone in this house, I suggest you provide a warrant or a subpoena or have enough for an arrest, but judging by the lack of documents, I’m going to assume you have neither.” Kegan smirked. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

It took every ounce of Dell’s willpower to not throw a pair of cuffs on him at that very moment.

“Kegan?” Iris Bell’s voice echoed inside, and the weathered old woman appeared at his side in the doorway. She was dressed in a nightgown, her skin wrinkled like a raisin. “What’s this all about?”

“It’s fine, Grandma,” Kegan answered. “I’m handling it. Go back to bed.”

“It doesn’t look fine,” Iris said. “What do you want, Dell?”

“I need to speak with Dennis.” He tried looking inside, but Kegan blocked his view. “Do you know if he’s here?”

“I already told you that unless you have a warrant, you’re not getting anything from us,” Kegan answered.

“Oh, Kegan, stop it.” Iris gently slapped her grandson’s arm and then pushed him off to the side. “Dell, if you need to speak with him to sort out whatever is happening, then come in. It’s ungodly cold outside. And I need my beauty rest.”

Kegan eventually moved out of the way, and Dell stepped inside. “Thank you, Mrs. Bell.”

“Dennis!” Iris leaned on the bottom newel post and hollered up the steps. “Get down here, now!” She turned around, smiling at Dell. “It’ll just be a minute. The man usually sleeps with his shoes on, so he’s always ready to go.”

Dell nodded, forced to linger in the awkwardness of the family squabble, and then watched Dennis descend the staircase.

“Dennis, Dell wants to ask you a few questions,” Iris said, guiding the groundskeeper from the