“This can’t be the house,” Rich said to Margaret, his girlfriend and photographer, with excitement in his voice as he exited the truck leaving her behind. Margaret snatched the photo from the paperclip that secured it and held it out at an arm’s length, in front of her, to compare the image against the weathered structure and was convinced they finally found the forsaken place. Margaret joined Rich near the rusty iron fence, which was leaning precariously as if it was in a wresting match with the earth below and was at risk of losing the upper position any minute.
“Yup, Rich. This is indeed the house we’ve been searching for since early dawn.”
“It’s a beauty,” he whistled, “ I’m not surprised their spirits refused to pass on and let go of this grand mountain home.”
“It makes me wonder though; what really happened on that tragic night?”
“What do you mean? You know what happened you read the case file cover-to-cover, how many times now? It was a murder-suicide.”
Shaking the case file in her hand at him she said, “That’s just it. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not adding up, something is missing or left out. I mean—” Rich interrupted, “Come let’s get things set up while we still have light left and then you can tell me all about it while we lie in wait.”
They worked efficiently, completing their tasks like a well-choreographed dance, without any hesitations or questions. Their main camp was set up on the ground floor, and a variety of gadgets and technology were strategically placed on each level covering the best possible angles. Everything was in its place just as the sun fell out of sight in the west behind the mountain horizon.
Settling in for the long wait, Margaret fished around in the knapsack, for their evening meal. Setting aside an apple for later, she said, “Catch,” as she tossed a bottle of water that Rich snagged from the air just in time. He cracked it open and took several long gulps, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and asked, “So what’s not adding up for you with these two?”
She finished chewing her power-bar and washed it down with some water before responding. “Well for starters they were newlyweds. Then on top of that they were building their future together. Moving into this spacious home was part of their long-term plan.”
“Did you ever consider that maybe there was some sort of infidelity or insanity that caused one of them to go mad one day? Maybe, the married life was just too much pressure. They were both younglings’ in their early twenties.” Rich countered.
“Exactly! I mean think about it, when you’re young you’re invincible – nothing will stop you, and they certainly wouldn’t concern themselves with trivial things. Right?”
“There are no but’s. These kids were young and in love. They had their whole life ahead of them and something or someone interfered with that. You know it’s true. Otherwise, why would their presences linger here in this place for over a decade?”
“You’ve got a point. If their lives’ were cut short then it makes sense why they refuse to leave even after ten years.”
“It’s ashamed that what ever truth we discover on this night, no action can be taken. This case is beyond cold and it’s past the statute of limitations.”
“Maybe we can stay here a while and help them let go of this place?”
“We can try. If that’s what you’d like?”
“Yes, thank you.”
*** To be continued, maybe ***
It’s another great Free Write Friday Prompt with Kellie Elmore, if you want to participate head on over to her page and follow.