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

Sarah held his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Pat said. “It’s not over till it’s over.”

And while Sarah understood that all of this was a long shot, it still felt good to find some light at the end of the tunnel.

Dell returned, stepping back inside, and Sarah quickly stood.

“Did you find him?” Sarah asked.

Dell grinned. “He lives off a dirt road just west of Redford. It’s a bit of a drive, and he’s in the middle of nowhere, even by northern Maine standards, but he’s alive.”

Sarah threw her arms around Dell, hugging him tightly, happy tears rolling down her cheeks. She then pushed him back and punched his arm in a fit of joy.

“Ow,” Dell said, rubbing his arm. “You have a funny way of saying thank you.”

Sarah laughed again and then spun around and flung herself into Pat’s arms, squeezing him tightly as well. “Thank you, Pat.” She peeled her cheek off of his chest and stared up at the man with the greying hair with white patches, the tan face, and the weathered wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. “Thank you so much.”

“I’ll run and talk to him.” Dell backtracked toward the door and reached for his radio. “And I’ll call for a deputy to come over to keep an eye on things.”

“We’ll be fine,” Pat said. “I’ve got a shotgun in the closet. Plus I have Sarah to protect me.”

“I’m still calling the deputy.” Dell headed toward the door and then stopped and turned around once the pair were close. “Just stay put. But if something happens before my guy arrives, then I want you to head to Redford and talk with Faye. You can trust her. She’ll keep you safe.”

The door swung shut, and Sarah sat on the bed. Patience had never been Sarah’s strong suit, and it grew thinner every time she stared down at her leg. She tugged up her jeans, the icy scales shimmering beneath the yellow light of Pat’s lamps.

“You all right?” Pat asked.

“Fine, just—” Sarah paused. “Anxious.”

“I’ve known Dell for a long time,” Pat said. “He’s not someone who quits when it gets hard.”

Sarah dropped her pant leg, and then picked at the fading nail polish on her fingers. “Most people aren’t like that.”

“No,” Pat said. “They’re usually not as good-looking as he is either.”

Sarah tossed a teenage-like glare, and Pat raised his hands in defense as he walked toward the door.

“I’m just saying.” Pat laughed and then turned back to Sarah. “I’m heading into the bar for a drink. You want anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

But after Pat left, Sarah decided that she did need something, air.

Outside, the night sky was clear, and Sarah gazed up at the stars. It was a beautiful night. But when she lowered her gaze, it fell upon the Bell mansion, and her smile turned to a frown.

Despite having more answers than she did an hour ago, Sarah still had questions. She wanted to know why Iris returned to this place. She wanted to know why she had started killing people. And most importantly, she wanted to know how to stop it.

She remembered what the redhead had told her about the cure being inside the house. It moves, but is always in the same place. She glanced down at her palms and wiggled her fingers, then lifted her gaze toward the mansion.

Sarah looked back at Pat’s Tavern, making sure the coast was clear, and then faced the mansion on the hill again. She pumped her hands into fists a few times and then tried to recreate the exact conditions she’d experienced before when she was projected into the house. She dropped to her knees, pressed her hands against the ground, and tried to do it again.

71

The black GTO blended in well in the darkness off the side of the highway. Brent had pulled over past the shoulder and onto the slope of the ditch that spread into the edge of the forest. The angle kept him leaned against his driver-side door as he listened to the police scanner.

There hadn’t been much chatter since Brent pulled over, but he hadn’t been there long. Still he fidgeted. The drive up had made him antsy and stiff. But he didn’t want to barge into town without knowing what the cops knew. There was no telling what Sarah had said after the police ran her license through the system.

He hoped that she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut, but that all depended on how desperate she’d grown.

Brent turned his head out the window and stared into the woods. It was pitch-black between the trees, and the darkness looked to stretch forever.

The speaker on the scanner crackled, and a woman’s voice broke through. “Dell, it’s Faye.”

Brent perked up, and his lower back popped as he leaned closer toward the scanner and turned up the volume.

“This is Dell.”

“I’ve got the sheriff on the line for you. Patching through now.”

“Dell?” The voice was gruff and agitated. “What in the same hell is going on out there?”

“Sheriff, I need you to call the state troopers in and get Judge Warner to sign a warrant to search the Bell house. I think we have a multiple homicide situation on our hands.”

“Dell, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“I have a witness, former employee over at the Bell house, who says that she saw a body on the property, buried somewhere out back. I think we should call the forensic team up from Bangor.”

“Hold on, now, just hold on.” The sheriff cleared his throat. “You’re saying that Iris Bell has bodies buried in her backyard and that you have a witness?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jesus Christ.” The sheriff sighed. “All right. You have Faye get the paperwork ready and make sure your witness understands that she will have to testify, and then I’ll call the judge. I’m sure he’ll be as happy about the call at this hour as I was.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. Faye,