IN THE SUN
Chapter 29: Rose Red

Ten bodies in a van designed for nine was bound to cause some trouble; Steve drove with Joyce riding shotgun; Sissy, Annie, Nick and I had the row right behind them (which was exceptionally difficult, as it was designed for only three), and Vic, Pam, Cathy and Emery had the row in the very back. We were fortunate, at least, to have a short trip of only fifteen minutes, and, a few blocks after having turned onto Spring Street, Steve said, "Well, here she is. Rose Red." We pulled into a wrought-iron gate that was overflowing with vines, some of which had begun to wither and die.

"Oh, it... it seems to be looking at us."

"It is, Cathy," Nick stared ahead at the enormous estate, then did a double take to Steve. He seemed to be lost in some distant memory. "Steve? You alright?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure, I'm okay." Steve shook it off, taking up a small black remote and pressing the one button on its side. The gates swung open with a groan and Steve pulled the van up and around the stone fountain to the front of the house. Joyce climbed out of the passenger seat and threw open the doors for us to get out, and we did so, grateful to be able to stretch our cramped legs.

The mansion was gorgeous; I had to drop my bag and crane my neck to take it all in. It was three stories, and made of mostly brick with hints of limestone here and there. Old vines covered everything, not just the gate, and as I stood staring at it, I felt what Cathy must have been referring to in the car just moments earlier. I felt as if I were under a microscope, and I didn't like it. "Oh, I wish she'd stop staring at me," I shuddered, pulling my jacket up around my shoulders. I was beginning to question what I'd gotten us into.

Pam and Vic were at my side then, gazing up at the house, too. "You know something?" Pam asked us. "I'm a little scared. I've never done anything like this before."

"Me, neither," I shook my head.

"Be not afraid," Vic told us with a smile. "Only believe."

Nick and Steve were unloading the van behind us. Rope, lamps, cases with extra equipment. "What's this?" Nick asked, producing rolls of papers from the back of the van.

"House plans," Steve told him. "Although honestly, we're better off with a 14th century map of Africa." Steve turned to find Annie close behind, hugging her doll glancing around calmly. "How you holdin' up, sweetheart?" Steve smiled at her, and when she remained silent, he chuckled. He glanced back up at the house for a moment, and then there he went, lost in a memory again.

"Steve?" Nick took his arm. "What can you hear?"

"It.... um." Steve swallowed hard. "It knows we're here. It wants us here. God help us, but it does."

Next to me, Pam shuddered, but I could.... I could hear something! I strained my ears to try and pick it up. Whispering, voices.... I wanted so desperately to understand what they were saying, but before I could focus any further, the voices died down.

"What?" Joyce was at Steve's side. "What did you hear?"

"There were voices," I started, and Steve nodded. "I couldn't make them out."

"I heard them, too," Nick told Joyce. "Liza's right, though. They weren't clear."

"What do you think it was, Steve?" Joyce asked him.

"I have no idea," he shrugged. "I've no psychic bone in my body, as you well know. You tested me yourself, y-you--" Steve did a double-take; Nick was staring at him, the wheels in his head turning. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Nick shook his head. I laughed quietly because I knew Nick too well. He was way too aware for one human being. Steve shrugged and went to carry the house plans to the front door. Nick, turning, found Annie right next to him. He smiled at her kindly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You know, though, don't you? You know, but you're not telling." I could have sworn I saw a little smile tug at the corner of the girl's mouth. Joyce had told me over the phone that fifteen-year-old Annie Wheaton was autistic, and I knew how quiet and reserved autistic people tended to be, but the little smile I caught didn't surprise me. Nick had a way of bringing out the best in people, even when he was being difficult. He looked up at me then, winking, and I grinned as I felt the color rush to my cheeks.

Steve came back to the truck, and Nick helped him unload the last pieces of equipment and other things. "Emmers, come help us unload," Nick called to Emery. "It seems as if it's the butler's day off."

"Don't call me that," Emery scowled.

"For five grand, you can help carry a few boxes, right, Emery?" Steve handed Emery a carton of food.

"Pam, can you come here, please?" We heard Joyce call from the front door.

"Sure..." Pam made her way up to the huge double doors protected by a stone overhang, and Joyce put an arm around her, so Cathy, Sissy and I followed to see what Joyce had in mind.

"You're a touch-know, Pam." Joyce indicated the door. "Go ahead."

Pam glanced at her for a moment. "Okay." With a sigh, she closed her eyes and slowly reached out to put her hands on the engravings that decorated the massive entryway. Immediately, she gave a start, and a tear trickled down her face.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Come in, sir. You were expected....... Come in, sir. You were expected." Shuddering, Pam broke away from the door a moment later, wiping her face on the back of her hand.

"Dude, Pam," I got goosebumps all up and down my arms when Pam had spoken. "That wasn't your voice. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Pam smiled, sniffling. "It was nothing."

A strong hand grabbed my shoulder, and I started. "Oh!"

Nick gasped, then started laughing. "My my, aren't we the jumpy one?"

"Oh, stop," I rolled my eyes, smiling. "It's not every day you spend the night in a haunted house."

"Yes, and it's not every day you spend the night in a haunted hotel, either, but I think we came out no worse for wear."

"That was different!"

"How was it different? It was still dangerous! Need I remind you, you nearly died! Twice!"

"But I didn't. We did it anyway, and now look at us!" I grinned, stepping back for a moment and opening my arms, and Steve immediately began whistling the Addams Family theme song, complete with snaps.

Nick and I burst out laughing. "Steve!"

"Alright, alright, you guys!" Joyce laughed. "That's quite enough. I'm glad the mood's lightened a bit since we got in but now we've gotta focus. Come on."

Joyce opened up the massive doors to let us inside, and as they swung open, my eyes went wide. "Ugh, my God, would you look at this place?" I gaped at the massive interior. "Nick, I'd be willing to bet we could park our entire house in this foyer!" At the end of the massive hallway-- which had smaller halls and rooms off to its sides-- there was a common area and two staircases that wrapped around the circular room to the second floor. In the center of the common area was a table set up with all of our 'ghost-hunting' equipment. I was making my way to the table when something caught my eye: a portrait of a woman with dark hair and dark eyes, and I realized then it was Ellen Rimbauer. She was wearing a gorgeous white dress, not unlike a wedding dress.

"Wait..." I stopped Joyce. "That-- that's Ellen Rimbauer."

"Well, um..... yes, Liza, it-- honey, are you okay?"

"I know her."

"You saw her picture at the meeting on Monday, and you've been by my office a number of times, of course, and seen the picture on my bulletin board--"

"No, no, not that," I waved it aside, continuing to stare at the painting, trying to place the memory that was stirring deep within me. It was a memory that stung. "I mean, I.... something's not right. She's....."

"It's okay. Slow down," Joyce slid an arm around my shoulder. "Slow down and try and figure it out."

I stared at her for a few moments longer. "A hammer."

"What?" Steve looked blindsided.

"What do you mean, a hammer, honey? Is that-- is that something you see?"

"Oh, God, I have no idea." I shook my head. "It's not that I've seen her picture. I've seen her, don't you understand?"

"Where?"

"I don't know......" I shook off the thought and sighed. "Oh, maybe I just dreamed it. Come on. Let's get on with this, shall we?"