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Midnight At Woods Cross: shadows of doubt8 Years Ago
Chapter One
The Blake House
Woods
Cross Community College
The
brownstone buildings shimmered beneath a silver sheet of rain as the September
storm broke. A cold chill settled over the campus. Andrea Brooks glanced at the
clock. She was just wrapping up her lecture on prehistoric art. It was the
first lecture of the semester, and she was pleased that it had gone well.
“OK
class, make sure to read chapter two, and please post your discussion by six in
the evening. See you next time.”
The
room erupted with the sounds of chatter as students left their seats and exited
the room. It was a beautiful room, too. The wood-paneled walls were broken only
by a row of lancet windows, adorned by colorful stained glass. The desks and
chairs were arranged in a stadium plan. The cathedral ceiling provided ample
space and added an atmosphere that was both airy and light. Andrea gathered her
books and slid them into her briefcase. She slipped on her coat and grabbed her
umbrella before she, too, left.
As
she walked toward the car, she took in the rain hitting the winding walkways
and pine trees that dotted the campus. Although she was new to the town of
Woods Cross, she had grown to love the area. She had always wanted to live in
Maine, and when the position for an art history teacher came up, she had jumped
at the chance to apply. Presently, she maneuvered her car toward Main Street,
arriving at the Four Winds Inn, her home for the past few weeks. Constructed of
red brick, the inn dated back to the colonial period. It had a red-and-white
painted sign hanging over the street in an inviting manner.
“There
you are. Would you like something to drink?” Rachel Hunter asked as she entered
the inn.
“Yes,
just give me five minutes to change.”
Andrea
headed up to her room on the third floor. Slipping into loose fitting jeans and
a red pullover, she surveyed her appearance in the mirror. Dark blond hair fell
in a neat bob, her eyes were soft and brown, and her fair skin blushed from the
cold chill of the storm. Her figure was trim—something that could be attributed
too many hours spent walking and biking in college. She glanced longingly at
her bike in the corner. One day she would get out and ride, she had made that
promise to herself every day since her arrival. She hoped to get outdoors soon,
as it seemed that the weather was about to change. Slipping on a pair of white
tennis shoes, she headed down stairs where a pot of hot tea, a plate of salami,
and sharp cheddar awaited her.
Rachel
had left a copy of the evening paper next to her plate. While turning to the
classifieds, she sipped her tea while scanning the columns of houses for sale
or rent. She had looked for so long with no luck that it was almost a shock
when she spotted an advertisement that seemed perfect.
“For
Rent: Five fifty-seven Maple Park. A spacious three-bedroom home, two and a
half baths, a fenced backyard, and a double-car garage. Reasonably priced at
eight hundred dollars per month.”
“Reasonable?
That would be a steal.” she thought.
“Everything
OK?” Rachel asked stepping back behind the counter.
“I
think I may have found something.”
“Oh?”
“Here
take a look.”
“Oh,
I know that place. That’s the Blake house.”
“The
Blake house?”
“The
owners moved to Florida last month.”
“They are really nice people, and I’m sure
that the price will be reasonable.”
“That’s
what the ad read,” Andrea said, smiling.
The
next day, Andrea called the number listed in the ad. Matt Jenkins, the real
estate agent, said that in fact he had an opening to show the house that
afternoon. Andrea said that she would like to see it.
Maple
Park was a perfect neighborhood. It was at the edge of a wooded area, Matt,
informed her that there was a lake located about five miles away. Andrea could
imagine long walks among the trees and the change of seasons; these thoughts
were very appealing.
The
house itself was perfect. She imagined one of the rooms could be used as a
guest room, and the other perhaps a den. The house had a stone fireplace, a
spacious living room, a family room, and two and a half baths.
“There
is just one thing,” Matt said, tentatively.
“What’s
that?”
“The
owners would like to meet you.”
“Meet
me? Oh, yes of course. I thought that they moved to Florida.”
He
nodded, “As it happens, they are in town for the weekend.”
“Well
then, perhaps we could meet tomorrow at the inn.”
“I’ll
tell them.”
“Great.”
Upon
reflection later that evening, Andrea felt that perhaps she understood why the
Blakes wanted to meet her. If they were going to rent the house to her, then
they would want to know what kind of a person she was. Lying back against the
soft pillows, she pulled her quilt up beneath her chin. She was going to miss
the inn, but she couldn’t wait to have a place of her own where she could cook
and entertain and stop living out of a suitcase! On turning out the light, she
turned over in bed. Thoughts of what she might do with the Blake house filled
her head as she drifted off to sleep.
The
following day, she met Harold and Edith Blake, who arrived at the inn on the
dot at three in the afternoon. They seemed to be a sweet couple. They asked her
where she was from, showed interest in her teaching career, and even asked her
if she was religious.
“Um,
yes, I attend church. I’ve just arrived, so I need to find a place to go
regularly.”
“I
see,” Edith Blake said, smiling.
“Well,
you do seem perfect, just what we wanted.”
“The
rent is rather low for such a nice house.”
“Well,
we really don’t need the money, you know. We just wanted to make sure that
whoever rents the place loves it. We had so many happy years in that house,”
Edith explained.
“Of
course, I understand.”
Just
then, they heard the sound of the inn door opening. From her seat in the dining
area, Andrea could see a man enter. He was tall and blond. He wore a pair of
well-tailored pants and a sports jacket over a crisp dress shirt. He approached
the bar and spoke to Rachel. The Blakes turned and followed her line of vision.
Then
Mrs. Blake leaned closer, adopting a motherly tone. “Now, my dear, I only say
this because you are so young but, you really have to be careful. There are
some young men in town that I would stay away from.”
“All
right, Edith, she’s a grown woman and I really don’t think,” he began.
“I
know that, Harold, but I feel like I have an obligation to...” But just then
she was interrupted too.
“Well,
hello, Edith, Harold, it’s so nice to see you again.” The man had spotted them
and now approached their table, with a smile.
“Hello,
Dr. Sellers. Yes, we are just tying up some loose ends in town,” Harold
explained.
“How
nice,” he said, smiling. His blue gaze settled upon Andrea, and she felt that
she could not look away from him. He had a sort of magnetism about him that
drew her.
“Oh,
sorry,” Harold said, clearing his throat, “Dr. Sellers, this is Andrea Brooks,
Andrea, Dr. Sellers. We’re renting the house to her.”
“Oh?
So we’re going to be neighbors.”
“Yes,
I suppose so,” Mrs. Blake said, slowly.
He
leaned over and took her hand, “Nice to meet you. Please call me Craig.”
“All
right,” she said. She noticed that his hand was strong and warm, not what she
imagined a doctor’s would be like.
“Well,
I just came in to pick up a late lunch.”
“Long
day at the clinic?” Harold asked.
“Yes,
I guess that is the rule lately. Ginny, my receptionist, has been working out
well, though she can be a bit absent-minded at times.”
Rachel
approached and handed him a bag of takeout. Andrea could tell that she was not
the only woman in town that found him attractive. Rachel was a cute, perky
girl, yet Dr. Sellers did not even seem to notice her.
“Thanks,
so nice to meet you, Andrea,” he said, before departing.
“You
see what I mean?” Edith said, leaning forward.
“You
mean, Dr. Sellers? Isn’t he married?”
“He
was.”
“Now,
Edith, don’t start. Let Andrea do her own thinking. She can handle herself just
fine.”
Andrea
smiled, but Edith looked doubtful.
“We
really should be going; we don’t want to miss our flight.” Harold was emphatic.
Edith
slid two brass keys across the table, “Here is one each for the front and back
doors, and here is our phone number in Florida should you need anything,
anything at all.”
“Then
she can call the realtor. Now, come on, Edith.”
When
they left, Andrea stared at the keys for a long moment. She could hardly
believe that she could now move in.
Over
the next few weeks, Andrea worked on moving into her new home. She enjoyed
shopping for furniture, paintings she wanted to hang on the clean white walls,
wreaths, candles, throw pillows, and comforters. She chose colors that offset
the walls—fall colors, shades of brown, red, and gold. By the time the house
was finished, the wood floors gleamed, the furniture was comfortable, and each
evening she lit a blazing fire to take the edge off the increasingly cool
weather.
She
enjoyed stocking the kitchen with utensils, pots and pans, and beautiful white
dishes. She loved the freedom to cook for herself, though she dropped in at the
inn for a coffee and a piece of hot apple pie every now and then. It was on one
of those visits that Rachel asked about her handsome neighbor, Dr. Craig
Sellers.
“So,
has the good doctor been over to see you yet?”
“No,
he hasn’t.”
Rachel
smiled and leaned forward in a confidential manner, “Well, he’s been in here
asking about you.”
“He
has?” Andrea asked in her most casual tone.
“Yes,
he has, quite a few times actually.”
“The
Blakes mentioned that he is recently widowed.”
“Oh,
yes, well his wife died suddenly about a year ago.”
“Really?
What happened? Was she sick?”
“No,
she had an accident, or at least that was the rumor. They had been having
trouble in their marriage. I really don’t know all the details, but they were
separated when it happened.”
“How
did she die?”
“She
was found at the bottom of a cliff. There are these scenic hiking trails up by
Amber Lake; no one really seems to know for sure what happened.”
“How
horrible!”
“He
hasn’t shown any interest in dating anyone until now,” Rachel explained.
Andrea
wasn’t certain how she felt about that. That she was attracted to him was true,
but the story about his wife was sad.
“What
was she like? I mean his wife.”
Rachel
shrugged. “Juliet, she was nice enough but she was a bit odd. Sometimes she
laughed and was really happy and at other times, she seemed rather withdrawn.”
“Was
she pretty?”
“Yes,
she had long dark hair, high cheekbones; she had put on a little weight but was
not bad.”
“Hmm.”
“I
just wanted to let you know I imagine you’ll be getting a visit in the next
couple of days.”
Andrea
would have been overjoyed about this before hearing about his late wife.
“Excuse
me, Miss Brooks.”
Andrea
looked up. A slight girl with long dark hair and liquid blue eyes stood next to
her.
“Um,
I’m Ginny Michaels, and I’m in your art history class. I forgot to turn in my
paper last night. It’s just that things have been really hectic at the clinic.”
“Oh,
you work for Dr. Sellers?”
“Do
you know him?”
“We’ve
met.”
“Oh,
he’s such a nice guy. I hope you will let me turn in that paper this afternoon.”
“I
understand, and I will make an exception this once.” Andrea smiled.
“Oh,
thanks. You know your class is my favorite class. I love art, it’s sort of my
thing.” Ginny blushed.
“I’m
so glad to hear it. What kind of art do you do?”
“I
paint and sketch and stuff.”
“Well,
you should bring some of your work in one day.”
“Really?
OK, I will.”
A
tall thin teen walked up; he was dressed in baggy ripped jeans and a scruffy
sweatshirt, “You ready?” he asked. Ginny turned and smiled. “This is my friend,
Jared.”
“Nice
to meet you.”
“This
is Miss Brooks from art class.”
“Oh,
yeah right.”
“Well,
thanks again, Miss Brooks.”
“What
was she doing here?” Rachel asked after Ginny and Jared left.
“Oh,
she’s in my class. She needed a bit more time for this week’s paper. She’s
working for Dr. Sellers.”
“Really?”
Rachel asked raising an eyebrow.
“What?”
“That
girl is trouble.”
“Why
do you say that?”
“She
has had a really rough life. Her mom has been in and out of jail, and she spent
most of her childhood in the system.
“She
seems very nice.”
“Well,
she is in school now so maybe some things will start going better for her.”
Later
as Andrea made dinner at home, she couldn’t seem to get Ginny out of her mind.
Something seemed very vulnerable about her. Standing at the kitchen sink,
Andrea stared out into the twilight. She could see into the corner house’s
backyard. Then suddenly, the kitchen light came on. She could see a tall blonde
man inside. Her breath caught as she realized it was Craig Sellers and that was
his home.
Yes,
she knew he lived in the neighborhood, but this close? With this view of his
house, Edith would know all about his private life. She paused, thinking of
Edith. Presently, a light came on downstairs and then it went out again.
Curious, she leaned forward. A tall, thin young man was climbing out the
window. He hedged toward the fence and then hopped over it. The boy looked
around him, and then he disappeared into the darkness of the woods.
Yes,
Edith could have seen a lot from here. Edith, yes, Edith had been acting odd.
Almost as if she was trying to warn her about something. Dr. Seller’s wife had
died suddenly, a tragic accident. What did Edith know about the doctor and his
wife? Harold seemed keen to go, but Edith had been insistent. Andrea glanced to
the fridge; the slip of paper bearing Edith’s phone number was secured by a
corner.
‘If
you need anything, anything at all.’ Edith’s words echoed through her mind. Was
she just talking about the house? Or was it something else? She wondered as her
gaze was drawn to Craig’s house once more.
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