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

Sarah frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Yeah, and the safest place for you to be is back in the station,” Dell answered.

“Dell, you heard her, if she tried to leave the town that stuff gets worse,” Pat replied.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sarah said, shaking her head in defiance.

“You just told me there is a dirty cop trying to hunt you down. If he’s been watching the DMV databases, and he’s as well-connected as you say, then there’s no reason why he couldn’t follow you here.” Dell pointed to the floor. “This isn’t up for discussion.”

“Then I’m not signing any official statement,” Sarah said.

“What?” Dell asked, his tone in disbelief. “Why the hell not?”

Sarah frowned, agitated at having been put on the defensive. “You don’t know those people, Dell. They kill anyone they want, whenever they want. It’s like they’re judge, jury, and executioner all rolled into one. And it’s not just cops he has in his pocket. I’ve seen him meet with judges and district attorneys. Whatever shit he’s involved in has some serious power behind it, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t have much faith in your criminal justice system!” She shot up from the chair and paced to room’s back wall, opposite Dell.

“And what does that mean for the person you watched that cop murder?” Dell asked. “What does it mean to all the other people he’s probably hurt? You know this is bigger than just you, Sarah.”

“Easy for you to say when your head isn’t the one on the chopping block,” Sarah muttered.

Dell remained quiet for a minute, but Sarah noticed the twitch of his left nostril. “Murder is a crime, and the fact that it was done by a cop makes it even worse.” He tapped the badge on his chest and stepped toward the middle of the room. “This means something to me, and anyone that disrespects it or takes advantage of the power that it wields doesn’t deserve to wear it.”

Sarah walked toward him, arms still crossed, meeting him in the middle, their faces so close that their noses nearly touched. “And where were those badges when I was getting the shit beat out of me when I was seven years old at a foster home? Where were those badges when I was thirteen and was felt up by my foster father? Or how about when I was sixteen and I had to fend off a rape from three older boys that were in the same orphanage as me? You wear that badge, and it makes you what?” Sarah shrugged, laughing sadly as her eyes watered. “You’re some kind of hero? That all cops are heroes and people will always do the right thing, because if they don’t there are consequences?” She bared her teeth like a rabid dog. “Those fuckers that hurt me, beat me, abused me in those homes never saw jail time. Hell, the system gave them even more kids! I don’t give a shit about your badge, I don’t give a shit about some woman that got herself killed by some crooked cops, and I don’t give a shit about how it makes you feel. You want to help?” She stepped back, the laughter rolling off her tongue angry and forced. “You really want to be the hero in this story? Then track that dirty cop down and put a fucking bullet in his head, because that’s the only justice that he’ll ever get, and it’s the only justice he deserves.”

Sarah retreated to the rear wall, no longer caring about the tears streaming down her face and whether he saw.

It was quiet for a while, neither Sarah or Dell speaking, and it wasn’t until Pat walked over and stood directly between them that he broke the silence.

“We can point fingers all day long,” Pat said. “But the bottom line is we don’t fully understand what’s happening.” He walked over to the table where Dell had dropped the letters. “But these might give us some insight. Plus—” Pat held up his finger and hurried toward his bed.

Both Sarah and Dell frowned as Pat dropped to a knee and reached beneath his bed. “I’ve been collecting history on this town ever since I was little.” A harsh scraping sounded, and Pat removed an old, worn chest from underneath. “There was a newspaper that operated out of Redford back when Allister Bell founded this town, and they documented a lot of what happened after he died.” He flipped the latches of the chest, opened the top, and then reached inside. “And being the amateur sleuth I am, I started collecting the articles.” He pulled a thick notebook out and then held it up for Sarah and Dell to see. “Between this, and those letters over there, I think we’ve got something we can work with.”

Dell was quiet for a minute and then shook his head. “I still think the best thing for us to do is take you back to the station. But—” He sighed, and then looked at Sarah. “It’s your life that’s on the line.”

Sarah nodded, thankful for Dell’s acknowledgement. “I want to help you, Dell. But I’m with Pat on this one. We need to learn more about the house and what is happening to me. And if you help me do this, then I will go on record with telling you everything.”

“Perfect.” Pat walked between them and dropped the heavy notebook on his table, then spun around to face them. “I’ll start the coffee.”

Empty Styrofoam cups were littered at feet twitching from the buzz of coffee. Pat, Dell, and Sarah all sat in different areas of Pat’s tiny studio shack. Sarah managed to snag the bed, Pat sat cross-legged on the floor, and Dell resigned himself to the tiny table, which teetered to the right.

The letters provided a variety of challenges, not the least of which