Chapter 13
Jennie
Newton Creek, Wisconsin
Present Day
Tires squealed to a stop on the street outside the rental house. Jennie stared at the black truck with its tinted windows as she froze on the tiny porch, her keys in one hand and the morning newspaper blaring up at her in the other. Someone exited the driver’s door, slamming it loudly behind them.
“Now what?” Jennie muttered under her breath, adjusting her grip on the paper.
Mr. McSwigen had penned a fact-less exposé reviving all the legends and lore, ignoring Jennie’s plea to respect the grief of Allison’s family and friends.
He’d included a pile of insinuations as to why Jennie Phillips had arrived in town.
Perhaps to protect her father’s interests?
As if! Was it coincidental that Allison should go missing after Jennie’s father purchased the property and then be discovered upon Jennie’s first time visiting the property eight years later?
Well, she could sue for libel. She’d spoken with her attorney just that morning. He was now working on it, along with investigating the codicil. But for now? Now, there was an angry person stalking around an unfamiliar truck, and . . .
Zane Harris?
But this Zane Harris had an entirely different demeanor from the one at Traeger Hall yesterday.
This Zane Harris had flashing eyes that had brewed into a stormy Emerald City rage.
His scowl was so fierce that Jennie found herself taking a step back as he stopped just below her on the sidewalk.
The newspaper was held tightly in his fist, and he lifted it with a jerk and waved it at Jennie.
“Real classy of you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. Zane tossed the rolled-up newspaper at Jennie.
She stepped away from the paper’s intended path even though it wouldn’t have hurt if it had hit her.
“If it helps any, I didn’t give that reporter an interview.” But going by the look on his face, her words didn’t seem to make much difference.
“You didn’t give—” Zane bit off his sentence and stepped onto the bottom step of the porch.
“Just engaging with McSwigen was a big mistake. Heck, the entire town is talking about it since your outburst in the coffee shop. And now this.” He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a piece of paper.
“Leaving messages in a high schooler’s locker?
On school property? I should call the cops is what I should do. ”
“Hold on!” Jennie shot back. “I was never at the high school. And what high schooler are you talking about?”
“My sister, Hannah!” Zane shook the paper in the air. That he didn’t believe her was obvious.
“Let me see that.” Jennie hurried down the steps and snatched the paper from Zane’s hand and made quick work of unfolding it. It was printed off an inkjet printer, the words on the page making a short paragraph. But it was the final sentence printed in red that jumped off the paper at her:
What happened to Allison can happen to you. Stay out of Traeger Hall.
Jennie frowned. “You think I’m responsible for leaving this in your sister’s locker?”
He cocked his head, and his expression implied his accusation.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I do that? Besides, what does it even mean?”
“You tell me,” Zane demanded. “The newspaper comes out this morning with that crap, and then my sister leaves school in a panic because she gets this?”
“Why would I have anything to do with that? I’m the one trying to figure out what to do with Traeger Hall! Why would I threaten someone to stay out of it, and why would I threaten your sister of all people?”
Maybe it was a look on her face or something in her eyes, but Zane’s anger abated a bit. “Because you know Hannah wants to be just like Allison and open up the Hall to find the Traeger treasure?”
“I didn’t even know you had a sister, let alone where she goes to school!” Jennie threw her hands up in the air. “You’re being completely irrational!”
A moment of thick silence passed between them, eyes locked in defiant stares.
Finally, Jennie shoved the ominous threat back at Zane.
“I’m sorry someone is messing with your sister, but I didn’t do anything.
I was cornered by Mr. McSwigen at the coffee shop, and I made quite a fit about him leaving everyone alone. Ask anyone who was there at the time.”
“What about the connection he made between your father and Allison?” Zane’s dark eyebrow rose, his jaw set.
“Do you really think my father would have wasted his time on Allison? She would have been nothing to him. If she had been in his way, nosing around the Hall as McSwigen implied, my father had plenty of other legal options he could have turned to.” Jennie snorted derisively.
“Look, my father wasn’t a good man, and I’ve no desire to defend him, but he wouldn’t have dirtied his hands by killing anyone.
He loved himself too much to risk getting caught. ”
Maybe something in her abhorrence of her father convinced Zane her statement was believable. He took a step back, eyeing the paper with the note that he’d snatched back from Jennie’s extended hand.
“Then what’s this?” His lost expression doused her temper.
“I don’t know. Still, I would never threaten your sister.” Jennie reached out her hand again. “May I see it again?”
Zane handed the note back to her.
She took a moment to scan the rest of the page.
To the members of the Newton Creek Council:
It is no secret I have undergone the construction of a bell tower addition to my home at Traeger Hall. Be aware and be forewarned of its purpose, which is as follows:
When you hear the bell toll, hasten to Traeger Hall.
Summon the best and the strongest and urgently come.
For if you dare to hesitate, all within will be dead, and the people of Newton Creek will be dismayed.
My blood will seep into the soil, rotting the earth, and when the last turn of the mill wheel comes to a halt, you will perish with me.
“What is this?” Confusion rippled through her.
“It’s the original and legendary letter sent to the Newton Creek town council shortly after Traeger built his bell tower and a few years before he was murdered along with his wife.”
Zane’s explanation made no sense. “Why would someone leave a copy of that old note in your sister’s school locker?” Jennie asked.
“I don’t know, but something in the news article set them off.
Hannah was my son Milo’s age when Allison disappeared.
She worshiped Allison and always wanted not just to pick up where Allison left off in the hunt to get inside the Hall but to find Allison.
Being a teenager, she reads those books and watches the shows where teens go around solving crimes, cold cases mostly.
She was stoked when you came to town. Hannah was going to get ahold of you to see if you would let her into the Hall if you decided to open it. ”
“She wanted to get justice for Allison and finish what Allison set out to do. Get inside Traeger Hall and uncover the mysteries within it,” Jennie said.
She blew out a breath of pent-up tension.
“I get it. So someone read the newspaper this morning and knew I was in town, and suddenly Hannah’s interest in Allison’s disappearance and Traeger Hall is no longer just a teenage girl’s whimsy. It’s a legit threat.”
“Right. Whoever was threatened by Allison eight years ago is threatened again—this time by Hannah.”
Jennie didn’t blame Zane one bit. She’d have been furious too if she were in his shoes.
She also didn’t blame him for accusing her.
The timing of her dad’s purchase of Traeger Hall and Allison’s disappearance, and now Jennie’s arrival in Newton Creek and finding Allison’s remains, was awfully coincidental. But that was all it was—coincidence.
“Who then wants to keep Traeger Hall closed bad enough to kill someone over it and now threaten a teenager?” Jennie combed through possible theories she could offer Zane.
“Would the lawyer, Mr. Wellington, have a motive to want me to keep the Hall closed? His firm helped my dad add a codicil to his will, essentially stating I’m not allowed to sell Traeger Hall or the properties associated with it for another fifty years.
My own attorney is investigating the validity of the codicil and the reasoning behind it. ”
Zane contemplated for a moment. “Why would your dad not want you to sell his properties?”
Jennie rolled her eyes. “That’s one of the things I’m trying to find out. My dad didn’t exactly share his world with me and my mom.”
Zane eyed her. “You and he didn’t get along?”
It was a fair question, considering. “Not at all. But Dad was also self-serving and self-preserving. Not only did he have the codicil drawn up to safeguard his own financial interests but he also wouldn’t have done anything illegal. Everything he did with his businesses was approved by lawyers.”
Zane’s brow furrowed as he studied her.
“He was far from a good dad,” she added, dropping her voice. There. Maybe that would stop him from questioning why she’d emphasized his ethics on the business side of things and nothing else.
Zane simply nodded. “I shouldn’t have gone off the handle on you.”
“It’s okay,” Jennie assured him. “I’d feel the same way if I were you. You’ve been through a lot in the last forty-eight hours.” She hoped he could see the empathy in her eyes. “Is Hannah all right?”
Zane released a heavy breath in agitation. “I told her to go home. My mom will call the school.”
“You need to file a report.” Jennie’s suggestion seemed to dissolve more of Zane’s anger. She handed the paper back to him, and he took it. “The school and the police should know about all this. With what happened to . . . your fiancée, it’s not safe to assume this is an empty threat.”
“I fully intend to,” he said.
“You can name me in the report if you need to,” Jennie stated. “I’ll answer any questions. I don’t want to see Hannah hurt.”
The more she spoke, the more obvious it became. If the note was any indication, finding Allison’s remains had stirred up something. Maybe there was some credibility to the Traeger Hall curse the locals believed in, or maybe it was something more recent . . .
“I’ll make sure to keep Traeger Hall in the same condition it’s been in. If opening the place up will cause more harm, I’ll gladly leave it alone.”
“But that’s just it,” Zane said. “If you keep it closed up, then we’ll never know why whoever sent this note wants the Hall kept sealed.
We won’t know what Allison—and maybe Hannah—were close to uncovering.
And that’s going to hang over our heads like a bad omen.
Who’s to know when it’ll become an issue again? ”
Jennie held up a hand. “Let’s just leave things be for now,” she suggested.
That was probably the best thing to do. The police might have their own recommendations.
Opening the Hall would bring a ton of local interest just when the authorities were trying to figure out what had happened to Allison Quincy.
Jennie thought again of the woman she’d found in the creek bed.
That had been traumatic enough. And now this?
If Jennie was convinced of anything, it was that her mother—and probably Allison—had been correct.
The allure surrounding Leopold Traeger, as well as the cold case of his and his wife’s murders, had never died.
Its suppressed heartbeat had thudded quietly for decades, and now it seemed it was coming back to life.
Jennie knew from personal experience that one way to avoid more trauma was to smother it. Shut it down. Ignore it. It might not go completely away, but at least the possibility was there that the hidden monster might be lulled back to sleep.