The Pulptress Page 5

  “I’ll be here.” Hand closed on the joystick, he backed away from the table and zigzagged a path to the elevator. He turned briefly and waved goodbye before he disappeared inside.

  “My gosh, what have I gotten myself into?” She wondered aloud, as she retreated to the bathroom.

  ***

  Red streaks colored the clouds in the western sky when they crossed the state line into Mississippi hours later. Emily studied at the atlas in her lap. “How long will it take to reach Corinth?”

  “Two, maybe three hours.” Roscoe glanced at his driver’s side mirror. “I haven’t been to this place in years. Gloria’s parents brought me one time. That was years ago before the chair.”

  “Tell me everything you know about the family.” Emily shrugged. “Any information might come in handy.”

  “Gloria’s great-great-great grandparents owned a lot of property on the delta in the late 1900’s. They were one of the wealthiest families in Mississippi back in the day. In the 1920’s Sherman Charles sold his share of the property and built a mansion in Corinth.” Ross flipped on the turn signal, steering the van in a right turn off the interstate.

  “His son Arthur lived in the house. He and Lorene had one child John. He was a decorated soldier in World War two. He came back from Germany, married his sweetheart Jill. He took her to his parent’s house in 1945. That’s when the deaths started. When they woke up the next morning, John found his parents dead in their bedroom.”

  “You mentioned other deaths. Do you have any information on those?” She stared at an abandoned farm house, doors missing, windows shattered. The roof swayed in the center and shingles were missing in several areas.

  “Homeless people looking for a dry place to stay, drug users looking for a safe place to get high and a few fortune hunters.” He glanced at a roadside sign. “Are you getting hungry? I’d love a nice greasy burger.”

  “Sure why not.” She stretched her shoulders. “Tell me about the fortune hunters.”

  “There’s an old safe on the second floor. A story started floating around in the late forties or early fifties that a fortune was hidden in the old house. Everyone assumed it was in the safe.” He paused. “According to Gloria, several people broke into the old place to try to open the safe.”

  “This case is beginning to sound more interesting.” Emily unbuckled her seat belt and eased her feet over the console into the rear of the van.

  “Where are you going?” Ross demanded.

  “The Body Bag is back here, I’m going to put on a new face.”

  “I see a Mom and Pop cafe with a drive through,” he shouted. “I’m getting a double decker cheese burger, do you want the same?”

  “Yeah, that’s great,” she answered. The sound of moving bags came to his ears. “It would have to be packed on the bottom.”

  Forty-five minutes, and one Mom and Pop’s burger later, Emily climbed into the front seat, her red hair darkened to black with streaks of gray around the temples. A hint of wrinkles surrounded her eyes and mouth, a set of thick glasses rested on her nose.

  “Who are you now?” Ross eyed the strange woman sitting beside him.

  “Gladys Jean Meyers.” She stared at her reflection in the window. “I’m a Professor of Supernatural Studies at the University of Moffett. You met me three years ago at a mythology seminar at Greensville, Tennessee.”

  “Okay, that’s an easy cover story.” Ross frowned. “I hope I’m wrong about this, I hope it’s just a series of coincidences and bad luck.”

  “If that’s all it turns out to be, then I’ve just wasted a little time putting on this face.” She smiled. “But I’ve got a funny feeling about this case. It might prove to be very interesting.”

  The cell phone buzzed on the dashboard. Roscoe leaned forward and pressed a button. “Hi, this is Ross.”

  “Robo,” a soft sultry voice drifted through the speaker. “How far out are you? Mom wants to know if we should wait for dinner.”

  “No, you guys go ahead. We stopped and picked up a burger.” He glanced at a passing road sign. “We should be at your place within the hour.”

  “That’s great, Robo. We can’t wait to see you.” Excitement crept into Gloria’s voice. “Be sure to save some room for desert. Mom made your favorite.”

  “Really, she made a Mississippi Mud Cake for me. Your mom’s a sweetie. We’ll be there in an hour. Bye Gloria.” Ross’s eyes twinkled with delight.

  “Bye, Robo. I’ll be waiting for you on the porch.” She severed the connection.

  “You’ve got a crush on that girl.” Gladys adjusted her glasses. “That’s why you wanted me to come. You’re in love with her.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. She’s a good friend, has been for years. We went to school together.” He averted her eyes. “A lot of bad things have happened at that old house. I don’t want anything to happen to her or her mother.”

  “Don’t worry, Robo.” She used Gloria’s pet name. “I won’t let anything happen to them.”

  Ross shook his head. “Please don’t call me that.”

  A golden disk hung in the sky as Ross parked the van in front of the old two story house on St. Martins Street. Stacks and boxes of building material littered the yard. A lithe blonde haired figure jumped from a lawn chair on the porch and ran to the driver’s side.

  “Robo.” A wide joyful smile split the young woman’s face. Her small hands tapped on the window. “It’s been too long.”

  Ross returned her smile and rolled the window down. Two arms circled his neck. Gloria stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m surprised you asked to come here, but I’m so happy to see you.”

  “Gloria,” Ross changed the subject quickly. “This is professor Gladys Meyers. She’s a friend of mine. Her field of study is supernatural science.”

  “Hello, Professor.” Gloria removed her arms from Ross’s neck and stepped back from the door. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Just call me Gladys.” She leaned forward to see out the window. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.”

  “Give me a minute to get out of this tin can.” He glanced at the granite staircase. “You don’t have a ramp.”

  “Drive to the south side of the porch. Pull in real close, and the ramp should lower you enough so you can just roll right inside.” Gloria ran to the side of the house, moving debris. “We have five carpenters working on this old place, the house stood empty for so long it needs a lot of work.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make it.” He eased the van forward.

  “She seems like a nice young woman. I can see why you’re so smitten.” Gladys teased.

  “You don’t have to keep rubbing it in.” Ross circled the stacks of building material and pulled the van close to the porch.

  Gloria and her mother waited on the porch giving him directions. “Pull forward a little bit,” she shouted. “That’s good. Your lift should let you drive right onto the porch.”

  Ross glanced at the disguised woman. “Go on up and introduce yourself. I’ll be there in a second.”

  “Don’t take too long.” Her hand paused on the door handle.

  He unlocked the chair from the specially prepared mounting device. His hand closed on the joystick moving the chair back to the platform. He reached out, and unlocked the double doors. They swung open easily. He depressed a side mounted blue button on the chair arm. The whine of hydraulics filled the air as the platform lifted and eased forward smoothly. Roscoe hit a second button. The platform slowly lowered to porch level. He engaged the joystick and drove his wheelchair onto the tongue and grooved board porch.

  Gladys swung open the passenger side door and circled to the porch.

  “Very nicely done, Ross.” Gloria rushed forward. Her arms circled his neck squeezing tightly. Her mother, Betty, followed suit.

  “I’m not used to all this female attention.” He blushed. The two women gradually broke the embrace. “In case everyone hasn’t introduced them
selves. This is Gladys Jean Meyers. She’s a college professor from Moffett University.”

  She nodded. “Call me Gladys. Ross has told me about your home. I must say I’m very grateful for the invitation to come and study a potential Paranormal Phenomenon.”

  Betty nodded. “I have to admit, I really didn’t want you here. This house has a bad reputation in this town. I don’t want the neighbors to think we’re bringing in a ghost hunter or an exorcist.”

  “I’ll be very discrete, Mrs. Fletcher.” Gladys took her outstretched hand.

  “If anyone else but Ross had suggested this, I would have turned them down flat.” She met Gladys’ gaze. “But he’s special to us.”

  “Yes, Ross is a special man.”

  “Enough of this chatter, let’s show them the house.” Gloria bounced to the front door and opened it wide for Roscoe’s wheelchair. “We’re going to remodel the entire house, bring it into modern times.”

  Gladys entered the old mansion. Ross shivered uncontrollably, the air inside felt twenty degrees colder than the outside temperature. “Got a little nip to the air,” he mumbled.

  “I think there’s a draft in one of the rooms upstairs.” Gloria fidgeted at the door. “The only thing that can beat back the chill is the old fireplace. Just hang on I’ll get a fire going.”

  “This is strange.” Gladys circled the living room. “Supernatural manifestations can cause an unusual drop in temperature.”

  “It’s just a draft from one of the upstairs windows,” Betty repeated. “When we get the old place sealed up and insulated, it’ll be comfortable all the time.”

  “What are you going to do with the old safe?” Ross cast his eyes on the winding marble staircase.

  “Believe it or not, that’s the sturdiest part of the house.” Gloria led them to the kitchen. “We found the combination in some of Granddads old papers. You’ll never guess what I found inside.”

  “You opened it.” The color drained from Ross’s face, fear entered his eyes. “Why did you do that?”

  “Ross, are you okay?” Gladys kneeled by the chair. Her hands circled his. “You’re freezing. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Robo, it’s okay. Don’t let your anxiety get the better of you” Gloria joined Gladys at his side. “The only thing inside worth keeping was a painting.”

  “What kind of painting?” Gladys asked. “I’d like to look it over.”

  “It’s a castle isn’t it?” Ross shivered. “With a dark haired man standing before the walls, and people clustered behind him.”

  “That’s right.” Gloria nodded. “A couple of them look like the pictures I’ve seen of Arthur and Lorene Charles, but how could you possibly know that?”

  “You’ve seen that picture before, haven’t you?” Gladys’ eyes locked on the frightened man’s face.

  “When your family came here with us years ago, you saw that painting didn’t you?” Betty licked her lips nervously. “We just stopped here for a few minutes on our way to the gulf coast.” Her jaw trembled. Tears misted her brown eyes.

  Gladys turned to stare at her friend. “You had your accident in this house.”

  “Yeah, Gloria and I ran into the house to look around. We heard our parents whispering about this old place, and we wanted to check it out for ourselves.” He pointed to the stairway. “We ran…” The words dried up in his throat.

  “We ran up the stairs. We had to see the old safe.” Gloria took up the story. Her hand locked with Ross’s squeezing it hard. “Someone was in there. We heard footsteps as we got close to the old bedroom. We stopped just outside the door and peeked around the doorway. The safe was open.”

  “What happened then?” Gladys demanded.

  “I stayed upstairs. Gloria ran to tell her father. I knew better. I shouldn’t have gone inside that room, but I wanted to look inside. I had to see what was in there.” He looked up at Gladys, meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry. I should have told you the whole story before we left Arkansas.”

  “I thought you were holding back.” Gladys patted his hand. “Tell me the rest of the story.” She gave him an encouraging smile.

  Ross closed his eyes for a moment, as if to compose his thoughts. “I crept inside that room, walking on tip-toes. Real quiet, no one could hear me. I made it to the safe and peered around that big steel door.”

  “What did you see?” Gloria’s voice squealed.

  “You saw the painting,” Betty said.

  “Yeah, I saw the picture, with the faces of all those people in torment, but there was a man standing inside the safe. A big man with dark hair, his mouth circled with blood. A woman lay on the floor, blood draining from two holes in her throat.” Ross squeezed the joystick.

  A loud crash shook the house to the foundations. Gloria and her mother jumped, wrapping their arms around each other.

  “Sounds like someone is up there now.” Gladys straightened, her face set in a grim determined look. “I’m going up there to check things out.”

  Ross caught her hand. “No, not yet, you need to hear the rest of the story.” The temperature dropped further. Vapor plumed from his open mouth.

  “That’s when you fell, isn’t it?” Gloria glanced apprehensively at the staircase.

  “I ran from that room and slipped on the stairs. When I woke up I was in the hospital.” He looked up at Gladys. “Now you know. For years, I thought it was just my over active imagination, but it was real.”

  Betty’s jaw quivered. “You broke your back in the fall. We took you to a hospital in Jackson. My husband laid you out in the back seat. So you'd be more comfortable. It took us over two hours to get there.”

  “I remember,” Gloria shifted her attention to her mother. “You went upstairs to see if any prowlers were up there. I remember hearing that solid metal clang when the safe closed.”

  “I did that, but the only thing inside was the painting, no man or woman, only the picture.” Betty wiped tears from her eyes. “I put it down to childish fears and a horrible accident.”

  “Ross, take these ladies to town, find a good motel and stay there for the night.” Gladys pulled a .32 revolver from her large handbag.

  “Grab your coats and purses,” Ross ordered. “You heard her. We need to get out of here.”

  “I won’t go.” Gloria stamped her foot. “We’ve been here for over two weeks and we haven’t been harmed. I’m staying.”

  A window banged open on the second floor, followed by the throaty howl of a wolf. The biting cold gradually lessened.

  “Whatever was up there seems to be gone.” Gladys removed her glasses and laid them on a nearby coffee table. “Find a safe room down here and stay put. I’ve got business to take care of.”

  “We can go to my room. It’s right over here.” Betty walked toward the side room. She nervously peered over her shoulder at the second floor landing.

  “Get in there and lock the door. Don’t come out unless I say so.” Gladys’ cocked the pistol and advanced to the bottom of the stairs.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Ross tugged on Gloria’s arm. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Gloria nodded and hurried after her mom, Ross bringing up the rear with the motorized wheelchair. The door slammed shut behind them.

  Gladys eyed the second floor. One slow step at a time, she ascended the polished marble. A tingle crawled up her spine. The hair along her neck prickled. She reached the landing, stopped to listen for a moment then advanced toward the open door of the bedroom.

  Through the space between the door and the frame, Gladys saw the open safe door. Despite the frigid air from the open window, she grew clammy with sweat. She tightened her grip on the pistol, and jumped inside the old bedroom, only to find it empty. Eyes locked on the painting leaning against the back wall, she advanced toward the safe. A stench of corruption hung like a thick fog in the air. Something about the portrait looked strange. The dark haired man was missing from the canvas! Only the faces of his suffering victims sta
red back at her.

  The window curtains next to the safe whipped and fluttered in the breeze. “He’s out there, looking for a new victim.” Gladys mumbled. “I wish I had time to change into my business outfit.” She shrugged. “Just gotta go as is.”

  She leaned from the broken window, eyeing the twenty foot drop to the ground, then turned and ran down the landing. Her soft soled shoes covered three stairs at every step. Once outside leaves rustled and rolled in the strong wind, masking any sounds her quarry might make. Debating on retrieving her .410 shotgun from the van she pushed the idea from her mind and raced down the outside steps.

  Which way would he go? She trotted toward the lights of the nearest house. A chorus of barking dogs filled the night. Her long strides covered the ground at a frantic pace. Pain filled howls replaced the barking, panic-stricken yapping filled her ears.

  “What in the hell’s wrong with you mutts?” a gruff voice shouted. “That’s enough. I’m trying to get some sleep.”

  A dark silhouette emerged from the shadows. The porch light above the robed man’s head hid the shape’s approach.

  “Get back in the house, you idiot.” Gladys shouted. She covered the ground quickly.

  Slowly becoming aware of the danger, the man’s mouth dropped open in surprise as an oddly garbed creature stepped onto the wood framed porch. Eyes bulged in horror, an unvoiced scream died in his throat. He backed to the door, reaching behind him, fumbling for the knob.

  “Marcy, open the door. Marcy, hurry, Open the door.” His panicked voice filled the night.

  Gladys tucked the pistol under the belt around her waist. When her feet hit the bottom step, she wrapped her forearms around her face and unleashed all the strength in her tightly muscled legs in one titanic leap. Her elbows struck the massive creature’s back. She felt the tightly coiled muscles under his old fashioned clothes. The momentum of her leap carried them to the hardwood surface in a heap. Although she expected her opponent to stay down, she bounded quickly to her feet.

  To her surprise he rolled upright and stood before her. Gladys took a step back as she saw his face for the first time. Coal black hair topped a hard cruel face. The scarred flesh along the forehead and cheeks stretched as thin as parchment. Close-set red eyes, filled with loathing, sent goose bumps crawling over her body.