Surviving Dallas (The Brown Series)

The sun had set. Alexis ‘Lexi’ Brown looked at her cellphone. She was only a few minutes away from her destination. Lexi had become a travel blogger and writer after her mother had won the state lottery six months ago. Lexi’s mother had split the eighty-four million dollar jackpot with her daughters.

This was Lexi’s third big trip. Brock Lockhart, an old school friend, found her travel blog online and contacted her. They hadn’t seen each other since they had graduated high school.  He had joined the Marines and served five years. After he left the Marines, Brock got into construction. Two years ago, he started his own construction company in Dallas. He was successful, but he wasn’t filthy rich until his grandfather passed away eight months ago, leaving him a sizeable inheritance.

            He used the money to purchase an old mansion outside of Dallas. The estate was eighty-six acres. He was hosting a long weekend for his friends at the estate. Brock had boasted to Lexi over the phone about the estate and insisted that she come out for his open house weekend. He also wanted her to write about his new purchase on her blog.

            Lexi agreed to attend because she had never been to Texas before. If the house or Brock’s friends were a snooze fest, she could always drive into Dallas to take in the sights.

            A long iron gate came into view on the right side of the road. She was approximately fifteen miles outside of Dallas. She was also in the middle of nowhere. Lexi started to wonder if she missed the turn. Lexi glanced down at her gas gauge and noticed that she had half a tank of gas. If she turned around now, she would have plenty of gas to make it back to Dallas and find a hotel to stay at. Before she could make a decision, she came to a fork in the road. The street sign matched the directions Brock emailed her. She turned the wheel to take a right.

            The tall iron gates continued on as she drove. Lexi figured that the gates were part of the property since she was less than a mile away from the house. The road she was driving on turned from paved to gravel, which she expected because Brock said it was part of the driveway. He had said he would get it paved when he did the landscaping in the spring.

            She came to the opening of the iron fence. The gates were wide open, so she just drove through. The house came into view, then Lexi slammed on her breaks. Her mouth dropped open at the dark rickety massive house with the warped wood siding. It looked like a house from a horror movie.

            “Shit!” she yelled. “I’m going to kill Brock. It looks like Mike Myers live here!” She exhaled with exasperation as she dropped her cellphone into her purse. She grabbed her purse and opened the door to her SUV. She hopped out and stomped to the back of the vehicle. She opened the hatch and pulled out her suitcase and laptop. As she walked up the steps to the mansion, she heard a long howl from a distance.

            Lexi’s eyes widened as she slowly turned around to look out towards the driveway. “Fuck, was that a coyote?”

            She heard the long howl again, but this time it was louder or perhaps closer.

            “Shit,” she shrieked and tightened her grip on her suitcase as she high-tailed it up the rest of the stairs.

            When she got to the double doors of the mansion, she pressed the doorbell and frantically knocked on one of the doors. A cold gust of wind rattled the shutters on the mansion. Lexi instinctively grabbed her leopard print hat and turned around to make sure nothing was coming up behind her. “This is bullshit,” she mumbled.

            The door opened. It was Brock. He hadn’t changed much since they were in high school. He still had a stocky frame and a buzz cut. “Lexi!” he greeted with excitement and stretched his arms out for a hug.

            “Lexi, hell! Let me in here before a werewolf takes a chuck of my ass,” she said loudly and pushed past him to enter the house.

            Brock’s laughter boomed through the foyer as he closed the door.

            Lexi put down her suitcase and glared at him.

            “Come on, it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. Give me a hug, you old hell raiser,” he said with a big grin.

            Lexi twisted her lips, but embraced her old chum.

            Brock pulled back, but still had his arms around her. “When it got dark, I started to worry.”

            “With good reason apparently. How the hell did you find this place?” she asked as she looked at him like he was insane.

            He chuckled.  “My brilliant realtor. She’s here, too. I told her I wanted a place with lots of land and original history to it. A bona fide haunted house,” he said proudly.

            “Haunted? You’re kidding,” Lexi said. She remembered that Brock was a jokester and a bit eccentric, but surely he wouldn’t buy an expensive place that was a spook house.

            “Yep.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me that over the phone?” she asked with disgust.

            “I was afraid you wouldn’t come if I did.”

            Lexi pulled out of his embrace. “You damn right; I wouldn’t have come. Black people don’t spend the night in haunted houses,” she said with emotion.

            He laughed again. “Hell, you weren’t afraid of the haunted house at the yearly carnival when we were in school.”

            “That was different. I knew it was bullshit,” Lexi said. There was a time that Lexi didn’t believe in ghosts, magic, and things that went bump in the night. But, her stint in New Orleans six weeks ago changed her mind.

            “You’ll be fine. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Brock said with a confident smile. “You’ll have a ball this weekend.”

            She should have known. Brock always did crazy things like procuring this dilapidated piece of shit for starters. Lexi gave him a half-hearted smile. He was her host after all and the least she could do was be a polite guest and a good sport. But, she decided right then and there if anyone came up missing she was out of there.

            Brock looked at her smile. “That’s the spirit. I knew you would love this. Let me take your coat and hat.”

            Lexi put her laptop case on the floor with her suitcase. She unbuttoned her black coat with the leopard print fur around the cuffs and collar. Brock helped her take her coat off. He opened the closet and grabbed a hanger. Lexi took her hat off and handed it to Brock. He watched her smooth out her dark, shoulder length hair.

            “You let your hair grow out,” he said. “I like it.”

            She gave him a small smile. When they were in high school, Lexi had kept her hair short. As she got older, she let it grow out mainly because she didn’t have the money to go to the salon every two weeks. Of course, she has plenty of money now, but she had decided that she liked doing her own hair. Plus, she hated going to the salon.

            Brock placed her hat inside the closet and closed the door.

            A tall, pale old white man dressed in a navy blue suit came into the foyer. He looked like Lurch from the Addams Family.

            Lexi struggled to keep her face from becoming contorted with the ‘what the fuck’ look.

            “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer the door, sir,” he said in a deep tone. “I was checking on dinner.”

            “Not a problem, Victor,” Brock said. “I definitely don’t want you to burn dinner. I’m sure our guests will be starving by the time we eat. Lexi, this is Victor, my butler. He came with the house.”

            “Came with the house?” she repeated.

            “Yes, ma’am,” Victor said. “I stayed on after the first owner died. My salary was paid by Mr. Mosley’s estate.”

            “I see,” Lexi said. “Who is Mr. Mosley?”

            “Lexi, you’ll have plenty of time to learn about the house later,” Brock said with a smirk. “For now, Victor will take your bags and show you to your room so you can freshen up for dinner.”

            Lexi plastered a smile on her face to cover up the fact that she was nervous about being left alone with Lurch.

            Victor took her suitcase and her laptop bag. “Please follow me, Ms. Brown.”

            “See you at dinner,” Brock said as Victor led the way out of the foyer to a large staircase.

The carpet was dark gray. The stairs were almost as big as the Gone with the Wind staircase. They were in a long hallway. All the doors were dark wood and looked the same. Victor stopped at one of the doors on the left side of the hallway.

            “This is your room,” Victor said in a low tone. He slowly opened the door and stood back to let Lexi cross the threshold first.

            “Thank you,” she mumbled and carefully stepped into the room.

            In the center of the room was the biggest canopy bed that Lexi had ever seen. It was obviously an antique. The mahogany wood on the bed shined. The draperies on the rails were blue velvet. She could smell fresh wood polish in the air. The wallpaper with blue triangles on it was old, but in good shape. There was a bust of a bull over the fireplace. Fresh wood and kindling were in a large brass basket next to the fireplace.

            “I hope you find the room satisfactory, Ms. Brown,” Victor said.

            “Oh, yes,” she said. Lexi forgot that he was there.

            He placed her laptop on a desk across the room. Victor walked to the bed and placed her suitcase on it. “Would you like me to unpack your things?”

            “Oh, no, that’s all right,” she said.

            “There’s fresh water in the basin over there and there are books on the bookshelf if you like to read before you go to sleep. I’m afraid we don’t have cable.”

“I’m sure I won’t get bored. I have Wi-Fi on my laptop. I’ll be taking pictures of the mansion and writing about my experience here for my blog.”

“Very good, ma’am,” Victor said in a professional tone. “Before dinner drinks will be served in the den in one hour. If you prefer to freshen up in the bathroom, it is the seventh door on the left.”

Surely, she misheard him. “The seventh?” she asked.

“Seventh,” he enunciated.

“Seventh,” she repeated.

“That’s right, ma’am,” Victor said as he continued to stand perfectly straight.