Tragic History

My realtor's office is in a small home several blocks from downtown. He offered me tea, which I accepted, and asked how I was settling in. I wasn't about to tell him the real story, instead I said I was doing well and enjoying the property. I then inquired about the history of the home. When it was built and who the previous owners were.

"Oh that's all boring documentations. If you're enjoying the home, why bother?"

How shifty. Tired of being treated like a child by police officers or otherwise, I insisted he disclose the information.

He paused for a moment, drumming the fingers of his right hand on the desk. "You do understand that the sale was final," he said.

I looked him in the eye and asked for the truth. He pulled on his tie giving a nervous chuckle.

A shiver went up my spine and I suspected the worse. "Who died in the home, sir?"

He cleared his throat and explained that the home belonged to Mr. George and Mrs. Margaret Lovelace. George had it built for their wedding. They had a little girl named Jenny who died of influenza. Shortly after, Mr. Lovelace fell down the stairs and was killed. Filled with grief, Ms. Lovelace hung herself in the kitchen.

No wonder I got such a cheap deal on the home. Only an outsider would be unfamiliar with the homes history. So many tragedies would have been in the paper. I have been sleeping with the light on and tossing most of the night. This is going to make things worse. Now I will never sleep. I haven't heard anything like doors opening or footsteps or other instances of haunting, it's just my nerves. Oh, why can't I be brave like Bella Fortuna my favorite dime novel character!

I wonder if the deaths kept potential maids away. Luckily, I had three ladies show up at ten this morning for interviews. I had them wait in the parlor while I spoke with them individually in the dining room. I'm offering $160 a month plus room and board.

Mrs. Opal Barns was in her 60s, hardly able to walk, and smelled of camphor. My heart went out to this widow but I was certain she would be unable to perform her duties. The idea of finding her deceased somewhere in my home scared me.

It was a toss up between shy Miss Rose Kinder and stiff backed Ms. Alice Frost. Ms. Frost had the most experience, but Miss Kinder melted my heart with her smile and soft voice. Her three month probation begins Wednesday next week. The cellar lock should be in place by then.