The Halloween House

  The Halloween House

  by

  Kathi Daley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Katherine Daley

  Version 1.0

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  I want to thank the very talented Jessica Fischer for the cover art.

  I so appreciate Bruce Curran, who is always ready and willing to answer my cyber questions; Jayme Maness for helping out with the book clubs; and Peggy Hyndman for helping sleuth out those pesky typos.

  Special thanks to Pam Curran, Sharon Guagliardo, Patty Liu, and Vivian Shane for submitting recipes.

  And, of course, thanks to the readers and bloggers in my life, who make doing what I do possible.

  Thank you to Randy Ladenheim-Gil for the editing.

  And finally, I want to thank my husband Ken for allowing me time to write by taking care of everything else.

  Books by Kathi Daley

  Come for the murder, stay for the romance.

  Zoe Donovan Cozy Mystery:

  Halloween Hijinks

  The Trouble With Turkeys

  Christmas Crazy

  Cupid’s Curse

  Big Bunny Bump-off

  Beach Blanket Barbie

  Maui Madness

  Derby Divas

  Haunted Hamlet

  Turkeys, Tuxes, and Tabbies

  Christmas Cozy

  Alaskan Alliance

  Matrimony Meltdown

  Soul Surrender

  Heavenly Honeymoon

  Hopscotch Homicide

  Ghostly Graveyard

  Santa Sleuth

  Shamrock Shenanigans

  Kitten Kaboodle

  Costume Catastrophe

  Candy Cane Caper

  Holiday Hangover

  Easter Escapade

  Camp Carter

  Trick or Treason

  Reindeer Roundup

  Hippity Hoppity Homicide

  Firework Fiasco

  Henderson House –August 2018

  Zimmerman Academy The New Normal

  Ashton Falls Cozy Cookbook

  Tj Jensen Paradise Lake Mysteries by Henery Press:

  Pumpkins in Paradise

  Snowmen in Paradise

  Bikinis in Paradise

  Christmas in Paradise

  Puppies in Paradise

  Halloween in Paradise

  Treasure in Paradise

  Fireworks in Paradise

  Beaches in Paradise

  Whales and Tails Cozy Mystery:

  Romeow and Juliet

  The Mad Catter

  Grimm’s Furry Tail

  Much Ado About Felines

  Legend of Tabby Hollow

  Cat of Christmas Past

  A Tale of Two Tabbies

  The Great Catsby

  Count Catula

  The Cat of Christmas Present

  A Winter’s Tail

  The Taming of the Tabby

  Frankencat

  The Cat of Christmas Future

  Farewell to Felines

  A Whisker in Time – September 2018

  Writers’ Retreat Southern Seashore Mystery:

  First Case

  Second Look

  Third Strike

  Fourth Victim

  Fifth Night

  Sixth Cabin

  Seventh Chapter – August 2018

  Rescue Alaska Paranormal Mystery:

  Finding Justice

  Finding Answers

  Finding Courage - September 2018

  A Tess and Tilly Mystery:

  The Christmas Letter

  The Valentine Mystery

  The Mother’s Day Mishap

  The Halloween House

  Haunting by the Sea:

  Homecoming by the Sea

  Secrets by the Sea

  Sand and Sea Hawaiian Mystery:

  Murder at Dolphin Bay

  Murder at Sunrise Beach

  Murder at the Witching Hour

  Murder at Christmas

  Murder at Turtle Cove

  Murder at Water’s Edge

  Murder at Midnight

  Seacliff High Mystery:

  The Secret

  The Curse

  The Relic

  The Conspiracy

  The Grudge

  The Shadow

  The Haunting

  Road to Christmas Romance:

  Road to Christmas Past

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Recipes

  Mountain Man Beef Stew

  Chicken Tortilla Casserole

  Pot Roast with Sour Cream Sauce

  Tortilla Soup

  Sharon’s Chowder

  Ground Beef Biscuits

  Swedish Meatballs

  Books by Kathi Daley

  Chapter 1

  Friday, October 19

  Every town has one. A big old house that has stood empty for so long, no one remembers anyone living there. The iconic subject of lore and folktales that hints at supernatural occurrences, tragedy, and family curses that can be neither confirmed nor denied. For the town of White Eagle, Montana, the house that serves as the subject of ghostly stories by the campfire is a huge old mansion built more than sixty years ago by a wealthy industrialist as a country home for his wife and five children. The house, devoid of love and laughter, served as a sort of luxury prison far away from the hustle and bustle of Hartford Harrington’s full and busy life in San Francisco.

  Structurally, Harrington House had weathered the long winters and hot summers of northern Montana. It had endured long after all but one of those five children had been buried in the little family cemetery at the edge of the huge estate. I’m not sure why the place was never sold, or even lived in, by whichever Harrington relation inherited the property, but after the summer Houston Harrington jumped from the third-floor window to the concrete bricks of the veranda below, not a single Harrington or heir had set foot in the place.

  “Morning, Tess, Tilly,” greeted Hap Hollister, as my golden retriever and I entered his home and hardware store to deliver the daily mail, along with a generous dollop of local news.

  “I love the Halloween decorations you put in the window. The cobwebs and spiders are very believable,” I jumped right in after setting the stack of mail I’d brought on the counter.

  “I hope not too believable.” Hap chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to scare away potential customers.”

  “Combined with the big orange pumpkins and jolly scarecrow, I think the window is just right. It’s very inviting.”

  Hap picked up the mail I had set on the counter and began thumbing through it. “Glad to hear it. I noticed your mom did her window up right nice too.”

  “As you’re aware, the Halloween town Mom and Aunt Ruthie display is a White Eagle tradition. It does seem the train Aunt Ruthie sent away for added a nice element this year.”

  “And that new haunted mansion she set off to the side. I love that the lights inside flash and there’s a crackling sound every now and then that provides a very spooky feel.”

  “I guess every Halloween town needs a spooky Halloween house.” I leaned a hip aga
inst the counter as Tilly sat patiently at my feet. “Speaking of spooky Halloween houses, did you hear someone moved into the Harrington place?”

  “You don’t say. About time someone brought some life to it. She’s much too grand a lady to sit empty and unloved for so long.”

  I rested my elbows on the counter and leaned in. “Maybe, but everyone says it’s haunted. I’m not sure why anyone would buy a haunted old house in the middle of nowhere.”

  Hap’s blue eyes, faded with age, sparkled as he leaned his head of white hair in closer to my brown mane. “Guess there are some folks who either don’t believe in ghosts, or aren’t scared of them if they do. Personally, I like to think I rank among the latter.”

  My head tilted with curiosity. “So you believe in ghosts?”

  Hap nodded. “Have to. Seen a few. Do you know anything about the new owner?”

  “His name is Jordan Westlake. He’s thirty-two, single, and, from what I hear, quite the babe.”

  “Babe?”

  “He’s handsome. In a cute and charming sort of way. I hear he’s loaded and has plans to completely renovate the house from top to bottom.”

  Hap’s eyes grew two sizes. “You don’t say. Seems as the only home and hardware store in town, I might want to introduce myself to him. I’m sure Mr. Westlake is going to be needing supplies. Paint and such.”

  I grinned. “I’m sure he will. Bree told me Westlake is related to the San Francisco Westlakes, and one of the heirs to Walter Westlake’s fortune.” Bree Price was a bookstore owner and my best friend and had taken the time to look him up. Walter Westlake had built an import empire several generations back. “I figured if he’s that rich he’ll just hire a contractor, but Bree said she read a newspaper article that said he plans to do a lot of the work on the house himself, only hiring out the plumbing, electrical, and heavy hauling. From what Bree was able to sleuth out, it looks like Jordan Westlake is, and always has been, rich enough so he never needed to work, so he took up a hobby: restoring old things and giving them new life.”

  “I’m anxious to meet this young man. He sounds like the sort I’d get along with just fine. Coffee?” Hap nodded toward the pot on his counter.

  “Thanks, but I really should run. I’m supposed to hang out with Tony tonight and I don’t want to be late.”

  “If you’re going to see Tony, tell him that paint he ordered for his own remodel is in. I was going to call him, but the boy never seems to answer his dang blasted phone.”

  I laughed. “You know how it is when there’s a genius at work. The rest of the world sort of fades away. I’ll let him know about the paint.”

  After I left Hap’s, I headed across the street to the White Eagle Police Station. My brother, Mike Thomas, should be in his office at this time of day, which meant I could firm up plans for tomorrow while delivering his mail. Mike, Bree, Tony, and I planned to have dinner together at a new restaurant that had just opened up down by the lake. I also wanted to speak to his partner, Frank Hudson. I wondered if he had any information regarding White Eagle’s newest resident. Frank, you see, in addition to being an all-around nice guy, excellent cop, and Mike’s best friend, was a bit of a gossip. I was pretty sure if there was news, he’d be the one to ask about it.

  “Morning, Frank,” I greeted as I dropped his mail on his desk.

  “Morning, Tess, Tilly.”

  “Any news on the newest member of our community?”

  Frank leaned forward and lowered his voice, although we were the only two in the room. “I heard Jordan Westlake arrived in town yesterday afternoon, and according to Toby Tanner, who we know is a bit of a snoop, he spent the whole night holed up inside that huge, dusty old house.”

  “Really?” I had to admit I was surprised. I guess I just imagined a rich man would stay in a hotel while the place was being renovated. “Was the electricity and water even on?”

  “Water and gas were turned on yesterday. Electricity will be on today. Toby said Westlake showed up with a fancy SUV filled with all sorts of camping equipment. It looks as if he plans to set up a tent in the middle of his living room.”

  I couldn’t help but frown. “How exactly does Toby know all this?”

  “Toby’s been camping in the woods just behind the house. He brought his binoculars and enough food to last a week. He said he wanted to be in a position to see everything that went on from the very beginning.”

  “Does Mr. Westlake know he has a man with binoculars squatting on his property?”

  Frank shrugged. “He hasn’t lodged a complaint. If he does, I guess I’ll have to run Toby off. In the meantime, I admit to being curious to find out what, if anything, he’s able to see. He even brought a video recorder, which he promised to use only if a ghost shows up.”

  “Does Mike know about all this?” My brother was a bit more of a stickler for the rules than Frank, and I could see how he might object to Toby basically stalking Westlake.

  “Haven’t talked to him about it, but I haven’t kept it from him either. Guess he might have heard something along the way. What he knows and what he doesn’t know isn’t a concern of mine.”

  I lifted a brow. “I sort of think Mike’s going to see things differently. You should tell him what you know before he finds out from someone else.”

  “Someone else like you?” Frank said with a tone of accusation in his voice.

  I held up my hands in my own defense. “I’m not saying a word. I am saying, though, that someone other than me might decide to tell Mike what’s going on out at the old mansion.”

  Frank made a face. “I suppose I might mention it to him if it comes up in conversation.”

  I picked up my mailbag and prepared to head down the hallway to Mike’s office. “Did Toby happen to mention what he observed last night?”

  “Lights. Like from a candle or a flashlight, wandering from one room to the next for hours.”

  I shifted my bag onto my shoulder. “I guess Jordan Westlake might have been taking a look at his new place. Seems crazy to do it in the dark, though.”

  Frank winked. “Didn’t say it was him causing the light to move around the house.”

  “You think someone else is there?”

  “Someone or something.”

  I wasn’t sure if I believed in ghosts, but I was pretty sure that if there were one or more living in the Harrington mansion, they wouldn’t need a flashlight to see to get around. I was willing to bet Frank knew that as well. If I had to guess, he was just trying to scare me, but Tess Thomas didn’t scare easily.

  “Morning, Mike,” I said after tapping three times on his open door.

  He looked up from the report he was reading. “Morning, Tess, Tilly.”

  I set Mike’s mail on his desk, then sat down on the chair across the desk from him. “Heard Jordan Westlake arrived yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I heard too.”

  “I’m kind of interested to meet him. From what Bree said, he’s handsome and rich, but he must also be unique to have bought such a rundown old house with plans to renovate it with his own hands.”

  “Bree said he was handsome and rich?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Everyone is saying it.”

  Mike sighed.

  “Can you blame them?” I added. “Having someone buy that old place and actually move into it after all these years is the most interesting thing to happen in White Eagle for quite some time.”

  “He didn’t buy it,” Mike said.

  I tilted my head. “He didn’t buy it?”

  “He inherited it. His mother was a Harrington before she married a Westlake. She was the closest heir, and she left the house to her youngest son, Jordan.”

  “I thought none of the five Harrington offspring married or had children. That’s the story I’ve heard my whole life anyway. It seemed every one of those five children died before reaching adulthood. Houston Harrington, the youngest and last survivor, was just fourteen when he jumped from the third-floor window and killed
himself shortly after his twin sister died.”

  “As far as I know that’s true, but it seems Francine Westlake was adopted by Hartford Harrington when he married his second wife, Anastasia Pembroke, who had a daughter from a previous relationship.”

  “Wait.” I held up a hand. “What happened to Hartford’s first wife? The mother of the five children?”

  “She died, most say of a broken heart, shortly after moving into the house.”

  Wow. This really was a depressing story. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the rest, but I did want to hear about Jordan Westlake. “Okay, so Francine Harrington became Hartford Harrington’s heir and married a Westlake.”

  “Donovan Westlake. Donovan Westlake and Francine Harrington had four sons. Jordan is the youngest. Francine Harrington Westlake recently passed, and in her will she left Harrington House to Jordan. I guess he isn’t overly bothered by the fact that six people all related to him by adoption died while living in that house more than fifty years ago.”

  “Given the fact that he’s here now, I guess not.”

  I stood up and slipped my bag back onto my shoulder. As interesting as this conversation was, I needed to get a move on if I was going to finish my route in time to go home and change before heading out to Tony’s. “Are we still planning to meet at Bree’s tomorrow night?”

  “Short of an emergency, I’ll be there.”

  I motioned to Tilly, then headed back down the hallway. Mike and Bree had settled into a committed relationship over the past few months. At first, I’ll admit it felt odd that my brother and my best friend had feelings for each other, but after watching them together and realizing I’d never seen either of them happier, I found myself pulling for them to make it as a couple. Of course, it also made me nervous, and my nervousness made me spend quite a lot of time wondering if it was wise for friends to become intimate. Tony had told me that, in his opinion, friendship could be the basis for the most powerful love two people can have. His words rang true, but I worried that if Mike and Bree’s relationship didn’t stand the test of time, the comfortable companionship we’d all had since childhood would never be the same.