Esmerelda Sleuth: Beyond the Portal (Book 3)

A thin layer of powdery snow blanketed the ground.  Beneath it was an icy crust that had assaulted the landscape just hours earlier.  The frozen moisture on the trees gave them a glassy appearance.  We’d had one of the worst recorded snowstorms in Virginia history and it was still coming down.  I stomped the snow from my boots and took them off.   Setting them on the boot tray, I slipped my feet into my office loafers.  Then, I opened the door to shake my jacket outside of the building.  I worked as fast as I could so that minimal falling snow replaced what I was shaking off it.

“You’re fighting a losing battle,” Nora said as she snuggled under an afghan while sitting in a tapestry covered winged back chair that she’d taken from one of the rooms in the unused west wing of the mansion sized house that Lance turned over to me when we were married back in time.  She’d strategically placed it in front of the infrared fireplace that we’d been forced to put in to assist the outdated furnace.  Opposite her was a similar wing backed chair that she’d taken from the same part of the house.  It was empty and looked mighty inviting.  She pulled the afghan tight around her neck. “Close the door, will you? Even with this heater running, I can’t get warm.  I never thought about the furnace being old.”

“We haven’t had a winter like this since you and I moved here,” I said as I quickly shut out the cold.  I hung my down-filled stadium jacket on the antique brass coat tree located next to the door and  scurried to the empty chair opposite hers. “Why would you think about the need for this much heat?  If the winter was milder, that furnace would have been sufficient.”

“I guess,” she mused as she tucked her chin beneath the afghan.

“Why did we come into the office, anyway?” I asked as I leaned forward and stretched my hands toward the heater.  “Who do you think is crazy enough to venture out in weather like this?  Are the roads even open?”

“The guy will be by to plow and sand the driveway again in an hour,” she said. “I’ve got him coming every three hours until this storm stops.”

I nodded.  “That’s fine for our premises, but what about getting to us? What are the roads like?  First icy snow and now this powdery stuff.  Are the road crews able to keep up with this crazy storm?  It’s not like we’re in Alaska or Canada where they’re used to weather like this.”

She leaned forward and stretched her hands toward the heater. “Believe it or not, a man called about ten minutes ago and said that he was on his way.”

“It couldn’t wait until the storm subsided?” I asked with surprise.

She shrugged. “I figure it’s a good case if he’s desperate enough to travel through this.”

“Desperate? Or, Crazy?” I asked.

She giggled. “We’ve had a few of those in our day, haven’t we?”

I leaned against the back of the chair and closed my eyes. “Don’t ask me why, but I had it in my head that when I left Helmsley Investigations, I left the crazies behind too.”

She sat back in her chair and placed her warmed hands to her cheeks.  “I think I’d like to close up shop, take a nice hot bath, and get into a warm pair of flannel pajamas after we see this guy.  He’s the only one we have scheduled and I’m feeling off today.”

“Why don’t you go back to the house now?” I offered.  “I can handle this interview on my own.”

She vigorously shook her head.  “You always screw up the paperwork.”

“Do I?” I asked with surprise. “I had no idea.  You never said.”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” she explained. “Plus, you do it so seldom that it wasn’t worth mentioning. I only say it now because I suspect that I’m getting sick and I don’t want to deal with figuring out what you’ve put in all the wrong places when I’m ill.”

“Seriously? I’m that bad?”  I exclaimed.

She shrugged. “Let’s just say that it’s not your thing.”

The sound of bells jingling outside caught our attention.  We simultaneously scurried to the window to see what was coming up our drive.

“Is that a horse driven sleigh?” she asked with awed surprise.

I wiped at the fog that our breath caused as we peered out of the windowpane and nodded.  “Arriving in a horse drawn sleigh.  That’s something you don’t see every day.”

“Is he Santa Clause come early?” she giggled.

I looked again, grinned, and shook my head.  “He’s too skinny.”

“Do you think he’s a nut job?” she asked with concern.

I shrugged.  “He could just be resourceful.  I worry about those horses. I hope he didn’t damage them by driving them over this type of terrain.  They could founder if he doesn’t have the right gear on their hooves.  Besides that, ice can be slippery and bones do break.”

“Oh, wow,” she gasped.  “That’s right.  I didn’t think of that.  Those poor horses.”

We watched with interest as the driver pulled the sleigh up close to the house and then secured its break.  He quickly hobbled the two horses pulling it in such a practiced way that it was clear he’d done it numerous times.

“That’s efficient,” Nora mused.

Before I could make a comment, the door flew open and he bounded into our office.  I was healthy, but I was still affected by the sudden cold that gushed in along with him as it assaulted my exposed flesh.  I could imagine how poor Nora felt.

“It is not fit for man nor beast out there,” stated a tall, slender man with an accent that I couldn’t quite place.  He was so wrapped in fur that it was impossible to see his features.

“Yet, you and your loyal beasts traveled through it,” I said in a tone that was just a bit more curt than I’d intended.

Always the one to be politically correct, Nora gave me a warning look as she rushed forward to greet our potential client with her hand extended.   “I’m Nora Oosterhout and this is my partner Esmerelda Sleuth.  You are Mr. Havershaft.  Is that right?”

Keeping his wrappings on him, he poked out a thin, boney hand and removed the snow covered glove so that he could shake her petite, plump one.  “That is correct, Miss Oosterhout.  It is worse out there than I had anticipated.  I came through the fields on a path that was made by snowmobiles, but I fear that, if I dally too long, going home will be a difficulty for my horses.  They have cleats and pads on to help prevent them from slipping on the icy crust or snow building up in their hooves, but, even so, I shall cut to the quick.”

I don’t know why, but I held my breath while I waited to hear the reason for his visit to our office on such a blistery and stormy day.  That in itself gave me the impression that it wasn’t going to be an easy job.  The oppressive energy that entered the room with him only emphasized that fact.

“How can we be of service?”  I asked.

He looked directly at me as he spoke. “You are a paranormal investigator, correct?  I mean to say that you are not simply a private investigator.  You will venture into the paranormal, if need be.  Is my information correct on that matter?”

Ignoring the fact that he was speaking directly to me,  Nora said with a nod, “It is.”

“Excellent,” he said. 

Even though I could only see his distinctive dark eyes, I could tell that he was smiling from this news.

“I have recently purchased a nearby estate and I fear that there is something living in my attic that is not of this world,” he said.

“Have you tried to see what it is?” Nora asked.

He nodded.  Or, at least I think that he nodded.  It was difficult to tell with all the wrapping he had on his person.

“I moved in one month ago and have not had a night’s peace since day one,” he said with dismay.  “I have checked out the attic more than once, but found nothing.  I even put in cameras.  Nothing.”

“Are you sure that it is something paranormal?” I asked.  “How long was the house empty before you moved in?  Perhaps you have some wildlife living up there.”

“I thought of that, but the house was only vacated by the previous owners a week before I moved in,” he explained.  “Plus, just to cover all bases, I had a pest control company check it out.  They found nothing.”

“I see,” I said as the wheels in my mind churned.  From what he was saying, all the signs pointed to the paranormal, but the level-headed and practical side of me wasn’t about to take things at face value.

“Will you take the case?” he eagerly asked.  “Money is no object.”

If he lived in the house that I suspected he lived in, I was sure that he had plenty of money to toss around.  That wasn’t the issue.  I just wasn’t convinced that he had something paranormal going on in his house.

“I’d like to check out your house before we commit,” I said.

Nora looked at me with surprise, but said nothing.

“That is perfectly understandable,” he agreed.  “Why don’t both of you come to dinner tomorrow night?  Say, around seven?  That is usually when the chaos begins.”

I could see my dear friend’s cheeks flush with excitement.  Her contribution to the business was to run the office.  I was the investigator.  Getting a dinner invitation from a client had to be exciting for her.  There was also the fact that this would be my very first investigation of the paranormal.  My experience lay in the basic, mundane cases which primarily consisted of spousal cheating.  I could also see the wheels churning in her head.  She’d just admitted to feeling like she was coming down with a cold. If that was true, the odds of her being sociable outside of the house for the next few days were low.

“I’m sorry, but we aren’t available until the beginning of next week,” I said.

She looked at me and smiled her thanks.

“Oh,” he said with undisguised disappointment.  “I see.” Then, after a moment’s silence, he said, “Shall I plan on you coming to dinner Monday evening next at the same time?”

I nodded.  “Please write down your address and telephone number.  Then, I’d suggest that you get those horses to shelter.  They’re starting to look like snow statues.”

“Heavens,” he gasped as he took a quick look out of the window at his horses.  “Had I known that I could  not immediately acquire your services, I would not have put them through this.”  He heaved a sigh.  “Oh, well. May I have a piece of paper please?”

I seethed with prideful indignation over his comment about thinking us so lacking in work that he could get us immediately as I watched him scribble down his address and telephone number. It didn’t matter that it was true. I was sure that once the word got out that I’d gone into business for myself, clients would be filing through our door.  I had a good reputation, after all.

When he finally left, I snarled, “He thought that we’d be available right away?  How presumptuous.”

Nora shrugged. “We are a new business.”

I scowled.  “The business might be new, but we’re not.”

“We are new in the world of the paranormal,” she insisted. “Besides, we were available.” Then giving me a smile of thanks she added, “I appreciate you giving me time to kick this thing out of me.  This is our first case.  I would have felt terrible being left out of it.”

I thought on how I’d managed to solve most of my cases with clues that I got from sitting down and getting what I thought were visions from rooms and objects.  Then, I remembered Lance’s definition of paranormal.  According to my long lost husband, I’d been dealing in the paranormal for some time. It just wasn’t with ghosts and goblins.

Looking directly at my friend, I asked, “Are we actually new to the paranormal? Are we really?”