Dark Places: Edge of Reason

Part One

Arriving a few minutes early for an appointment with her sometime-boss, Matthew Wheeler, Trixie paused near his secretary’s desk and tried to catch her breath. The elevator had been so crowded, and had stopped so often, that she had given up and taken the stairs for the last few flights. Mr. Wheeler’s secretary, Margaret, smiled.

“Good morning, Trixie,” the friendly older woman greeted. “He’s taking a call at the moment, but he asked that you go right in when you got here.”

“Thanks,” Trixie replied, opening the door for herself and peeking through.

At his desk, Mr. Wheeler waved her inside with a smile. “It’s a white elephant, Frank, if ever I saw one,” he was saying into the phone. “I’m starting to wish I’d never gotten in on this deal. There are quite a few so-called assets on this list that I don’t like the look of.” There was a pause, as the person on the other end of the line spoke. “Well, I’ve got someone in mind for that and she’s just arrived. I’ll just put you on speaker and you can talk to her yourself.” Pressing a button, he introduced Trixie to his second-in-command, Frank Delaforce.

“Well, Trixie,” Frank explained, his voice coming clearly through the speakers, “my particular area of expertise is asset management, so I keep a close eye on that part of the business. You probably aren’t aware that we’ve just sealed a takeover deal and sometime pretty soon will be coming into possession of a whole portfolio of assets – and some of them are questionable, to say the least. Seems that one of the reasons the company we’re taking over was coming unstuck was that its director had a bit of a hobby that he was indulging with company money.”

“If I could sell them to him, personally, for a fair price, I’d do it in a flash,” Matthew muttered. “I don’t want a black museum on the company books.”

“You mean, he bought murder weapons, and things associated with crimes?” Trixie asked, confused.

Frank made a noise of dissent. “No, he did one better than that. He bought the places the crimes were committed. In five days’ time, we’ll be the proud owners of four scenes of crime or tragic death. One of them was a particularly brutal murder, but the property is in a prime position and is still worth plenty. That one we’re not worried about and we already have potential buyers knocking at our door. The second is the scene of an unresolved disappearance – he was an absconding white collar criminal, if you ask me – and I think we’ll be able to liquidate it without any trouble, either. The third is a bit trickier. It was the scene of a couple of accidental deaths and there’s a story out there about it being haunted. There’s no building on the property, though, and we’re hoping to be able to offload it somehow. Now, the fourth one is the one we want your help with. He really went to town on it, no pun intended.”

Mr. Wheeler let out a short laugh. “You can say that again.”

Clearing his throat, Frank continued, “The fourth one isn’t just one property, it’s an entire town – a ghost town, to be exact. It’s called Eastedge and it’s out in the middle of nowhere in North Dakota, completely uninhabited and partly in ruins. Some of the buildings were in use until fairly recently. I understand it was quite a bustling place a hundred years ago. Twenty years ago, it was down to half a dozen households. The last people left it less than a year ago and that’s when the company we’re taking over bought it.”

“I’m beginning to heartily wish that they hadn’t,” Matthew interjected.

“If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have had their cash-flow crisis and we wouldn’t have been in a position to take them over,” Frank pointed out. “We’re gaining a nice little earner, and all we’ve got to do is deal with some of these property issues.”

“So, what is it that you want me to do?” Trixie wondered aloud.

“Well…” Frank’s voice drew out the word. “See, the trouble with this property is that in ordinary terms, it’s practically worthless. It’s not all that good a farming area; there aren’t any resources left to be exploited; it’s not close to anything much. Even if you did want to use it for something, most of the buildings on it would need to be demolished, and that would add to the cost of construction to a point where it would hardly be worth it. In short, it’s not much use for anything at all. But – and this is a big objection – the reason he bought it is that there is a story attached to the place, and there could just be some worth in the story.”

“We could take advantage of that and try to sell it on its reputation,” Mr. Wheeler added, “but it’s a risky business, and I’m disinclined towards that course of action for several reasons.”

“So, we’re wanting someone to quietly look into it for us,” Frank continued. “We’ve got copies of the documents the current owner accessed when doing his own research about the matter – and they’re not worth the paper they’re written on. We want someone a little less credulous to do some research, and then we’re wanting a little investigation on the ground.”

“We want this kept very quiet, though,” Matthew Wheeler explained. “I don’t want to start rumours and artificially inflate the price, if there is in actuality no basis to the story. That kind of situation may give us some short-term gain, but it’s unlikely to do our reputation any good in the long run. So, there is to be no paperwork on this particular aspect of the work. As cover, you’ll also have some tasks to perform there, in a similar line to what you did at the hotel. So, are you agreeable to this plan?”

Eyes shining, Trixie nodded until her curls bounced. “Absolutely. When do I start?”

“As soon as you like,” Matthew answered, with a short laugh at her enthusiasm. “Take this package of papers with you. It contains all of the information we have, plus the details of your cover tasks. Report your findings to me at home at the end of each week. We’ll discuss your trip out there, and who you might like to take with you, after the research is started.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wheeler!” Trixie cried, giving him a radiant smile. “It’s been nice talking to you, Mr. Delaforce.”

As she rode the subway on the way home, Trixie began to study the paperwork she had been given. The details of the official work were straightforward enough, and would hopefully dovetail nicely with the unofficial tasks, so she set them aside almost immediately. The material provided by the present owner was, by far, more intriguing. It consisted of print-outs from several web sites, photocopies of pages from books and a few photographs and pages of hand-written notes. The story they told was couched in exciting and mysterious terms.

In 1919, right in the most prosperous days of Eastedge, a daring robbery had taken place, and had never, to this day, been satisfactorily explained. Between night and morning, a section of the rear wall of one of the town’s most impenetrable buildings had been reduced to a pile of loose bricks and the large safe inside had been removed in its entirety. The safe and its contents were never seen again.

Exactly what those contents had been was a little less clear. Some sources hinted at a dangerous secret, stolen from government agents. Others claimed it had been jewels, money, or sensitive documents. All hinted that the valuables were still there, somewhere, and that a careful search would yield an ample reward. Some of the articles hinted that some terrible fate had befallen the thieves, evidenced by the discovery of a body right next to the same building in the early 1920s. One suggested a government cover-up, couched in typical conspiracy theory terminology and suggested that the secret papers would be shocking, even to this day.

I guess the first thing is to verify these documents, Trixie decided when she had arrived home and finished reading. They could easily have been altered or forged, especially the websites.

Sighing at this, the more tedious end of the business, she set to work. Her first task, she decided, would be to check up on the web sites referenced and see whether there were any other sites in existence. After that, she intended to locate copies of each of the books represented in the paperwork.

It was a slow business, but it turned out to be a fascinating one. All but one of the sites printed out had disappeared entirely, and Trixie found this a suspicious circumstance, considering that the dates on the print-outs were mere months ago. Other relevant web sites that Trixie found varied wildly in quality, but there were several which caught her attention with eerie photographs and tantalising snippets of information. She soon began to see a pattern, however. Those referenced in the material she had been given did not match any others. Several other sites gave a different spin to the town mystery than the ones represented in her material, suggesting that the contents of the safe had already been embezzled prior to the robbery. As she had suspected all along, the more outlandish theories seemed to be without substance.

Her trip to one of New York City’s big libraries confirmed this assessment. She was able to access all but one of the titles from which copies had been taken and it became plain at once that those had been doctored. The hints of treasure for the taking did not feature in any of these works. A seemingly pointless robbery remained.

In the process, she also managed to build up a portrait of the town in her mind. It had been established in the 19^th century on one of the railways that flourished in the region at that time. Nearby mines and farms supported the town and it grew to a population of one or two hundred. A period of prosperity had extended into the first three decades of the 20^th century, during which the robbery had taken place. The failure of the law to resolve the matter to anyone’s satisfaction had perhaps contributed to the decline of the town, but the Great Depression had a more profound effect. By 1935, all of the nearby mines had closed. The weather in the thirties was particularly cruel, with drought, dust storms, and, in 1936, both the state’s severest winter and the hottest summer on record, even seven decades later. Fires had destroyed a number of important buildings during the thirties and the population had dwindled. In the 1980s, the railway was abandoned, sealing the town’s fate.

With a little more work, she managed to confirm some of the details of the robbery from newspaper reports of the time and a few others reliable sources. The story’s details solidified, but to some extent the mystery remained. In addition to what she already knew, Trixie found that the robbery had been discovered on a Monday morning. The victim, by all accounts, was well-trusted in his community. The crime had never been solved and she thought that was strange. After all, she reflected, closing the last book, a huge safe is not the kind of thing that can just disappear into the landscape, is it? And why steal it if you’re not going to do anything with it?

She ended the week with a report to Mr. Wheeler, fully prepared to ask that she be allowed to visit the town right away.

Honey and Jim were both at the Manor House when she arrived. They each were surprised to see her there, not having heard that she was working again for their father, or that she was expected in Sleepyside that weekend.

“What are you doing here, Trixie?” Honey demanded suspiciously. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

Trixie hesitated, not knowing how much she was allowed to tell them. She was saved from the situation by the arrival on the scene of Matthew Wheeler himself.

“How did you go, Trixie?” he asked, apparently unconcerned by their audience. “Have you got some answers for me yet?”

Honey cringed. “Oh, please, Trixie. Please tell me you’re not doing some more investigation for Daddy. If you drag me into one more underground tunnel, or ghost-infested building, I think I’m going to scream.”

“I wasn’t going to drag you anywhere,” her best friend replied, in a small voice. “I don’t think there are any tunnels involved this time. No ghosts that I know of, either.”

“Then what’s the catch?” Honey wanted to know. “There must be something dark and dangerous about what you’re doing, otherwise you would have told me before now and we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because I would know what it was about already, wouldn’t I?”

Her father laughed at this piece of logic and explained, “I asked Trixie for strict secrecy. I forgot to mention that she could discuss the matter with the other Bob-Whites. Come into my office, all of you, and we’ll get caught up together.”

In a few minutes, Honey and Jim had been informed of the events leading up to the meeting, and Trixie had displayed her findings from the few days’ research. Mr. Wheeler was particularly struck by some photographs that she had found of the buildings on the site, as well as some satellite images of Eastedge and its surrounds.

Honey picked up a copy of a photograph to examine it more closely. It depicted a stately old brick building, disfigured by long grass and overgrown bushes, but retaining an air of dignity that belonged to an age past. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, passing it to her brother. “Wouldn’t you love something like this for your school one day?”

“If it’s in usable condition,” he replied, dubiously. “It’s probably been empty for decades and there’s no telling what might be wrong with it.”

“Actually,” Trixie answered, looking frantically through her notes, “I think that’s one of the buildings I’ve got a report here for. If that’s the one I think it is, it was in use until just last year, and it had an inspection a couple of years back. There wasn’t anything wrong with it that a bit of maintenance wouldn’t fix.”

Jim looked thoughtful for a moment, then brought one of the other shots to their attention. “This building is about ready to fall down, though. And I’m not sure that the climate out there is exactly what I’m looking for in a school site.”

“The church is lovely, too,” Honey continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. “It looks like it might be repairable. And a couple of these houses are quite nice, too. It looks like a lovely little town, and I’d love to see it sometime.”

Mr. Wheeler clapped his hands together. “Then I have an opportunity for you,” he told her. “I’m sending Trixie out to see the place sometime soon and, since I have no intention of letting her go there alone, I thought you and some of your friends might like to go along. I imagine that Trixie will probably be there for a couple of weeks at least, but there’s no reason why you couldn’t just visit for a weekend, or a few days.”

Honey seemed disconcerted by the idea. “I meant after someone had cleaned the place up,” she clarified, “not right now, when it’s all covered in weeds! Besides, mightn’t it be dangerous?”

“Not as much as you might imagine,” her father replied. “It’s not far enough off the beaten track to be attractive to most brands of criminals, and there’s a man who used to live there that drops in two or three times a week to keep an eye on the place. He’s reported to me that as long as you keep away from the more derelict buildings and some of the places where the buildings have been allowed to fall down, there’s no real danger.”

His daughter groaned. “I wasn’t even thinking of criminals! I was thinking of snakes and storm cellars and dangerous animals.”

“I guess I don’t mind if you don’t come, Honey,” Trixie told her. “I mean, I’d rather that you did and I’d love your help with the mystery, but if you feel that strongly about it, I won’t make you come too.”

“Why did you have to mention the mystery?” Honey asked, looking skywards. “Okay, Trixie. You can count me in, but I am not going into any tunnels, cellars, underground rooms or places of that description. Do you understand?”

Trixie grinned. “You’ve got a deal.”

A couple of weeks later, Trixie and Mart set off for Eastedge alone, to do some preliminary work and scout out a location for the rest of the group to stay. They would have the place to themselves for almost a week, before the rest of the Bob-Whites joined them for a weekend or longer. Their late-afternoon flight in the Wheeler jet was uneventful, as was the drive from the airport to the town. They left the main highway through the area for a side road, which seemed to go on forever into a countryside of gently undulating pastures. To the Beldens, used as they were to their hometown’s hills and trees, it seemed unnaturally flat and empty. A few other vehicles shared the road with them, but it was certainly not busy. After a while, they reached a crossroads with a more neglected road.

Mart, who was driving, pulled over. “Is this the turn-off? I thought there was supposed to be a sign.”

Trixie pointed at something in the long grass on the side of the road. “I think that’s it and that it’s been run down.”

She opened her door and went to give the sign a bit of a kick. The grass parted and she could then read the name. Hopping back into the car, she urged her brother to keep going. He drove off slowly, taking the turn at a low speed and barely accelerating as he headed down the pot-holed road. After a short distance, the pavement gave out altogether and the road became gravel. Still, they carried on, a plume of dust rising behind them.

Every so often, they passed a farm that was evidently still occupied. These were few and far between, however, and they reached a stretch of road that seemed utterly devoid of human habitation. The condition of the road also deteriorated, which made Mart slow further for fear of getting stuck in one of the larger holes.

“Take a look at that place,” he suggested, pointing out the driver’s side window at a sinister-looking house at the top of a nearby rise.

“Horror-movie material,” Trixie agreed, with a delightful shiver. “I’d love to take a look in it – it’s like a real haunted house.”

As they left the house behind, they saw another lone building in the middle distance. It looked rather like a railway station. When they drew near, they could see evidence of some tracks. The part that had crossed the road had been removed, but on either side lay the remnants, choked with weeds. At Trixie’s request, Mart pulled over and she got out to explore the station.

Its windows were broken and its roof sagged. There was little paint still hanging onto its weathered surfaces. In all, it looked sad and neglected. She heaved a sigh and climbed back into the car. Mart drove on.

A minute or two later, the road crested the ridge of a low hill. Instead of more empty countryside, a town lay before them, just to the left of the road they were following. Mart slowed to a halt. From this vantage point, they could see a number of old buildings. Some of them were in an advanced state of dereliction, their wooden sides grey and weathered. A few still had a coat of paint, or other signs of recent habitation. All of them seemed empty and forgotten. Just past the town, the road they were following was blocked by barriers.

“I think this is it,” Mart noted, as he accelerated once more. “Welcome to Eastedge, Trixie. Current population: two.”

Turning off the dead-straight road onto the first cross-street, they passed a stand of trees, rounded a curve and found themselves in the main part of the town. Most of the buildings here were in reasonable condition, but there were plenty of spaces where more buildings had once stood. Here and there, a car sat rusting, or some other forgotten item lay where it had been left. Beyond the canopies of some more trees, they could see the steeple of a church.

“I recognise some of these buildings from the photos. This is definitely it,” Trixie announced, peering out to one side then the other. “I guess we’d better choose a place to stay, first of all. I’m pretty sure we’ve got keys to most, if not all, of these buildings. Which one do you think we should try first?”

“How about that one?” Mart suggested, pointing to a sturdy-looking red-brick building. “It’s in the middle of town, its windows are fairly clean, suggesting that it was in fairly recent use, and it’s big enough that we wouldn’t have to move when the others arrived.”

He pulled up right in front and they both got out. Trixie jingled the large key-ring as she looked for the right key. In a few moments, she found it and tried it in the lock. It moved freely and the door swung open without even a squeak. Inside, the floor was free of litter, but the air was still and stuffy.

“Looks okay,” she agreed, giving the floor just inside the doorway a tap to see if it seemed sound. “Let’s take a look around it before we decide, though. You never know what might be in here.”

From the front part of the building, which had evidently been a shop, they went behind the counter and through a doorway. To one side was a storeroom, but the rest of the lower floor consisted of living space. The two wandered over the building for several minutes, looking in all of the rooms, peeking down into the dark cellar and even up into the small attic space. A few stray articles of furniture were left, and the attic still held a few piles of old junk, but other than that the building was stripped bare.

“It’ll do,” Trixie decided, heading for the door to retrieve her belongings. “If we don’t like it, I guess we could choose another place tomorrow, but I really want to get settled before dark.”

Mart nodded his agreement. “No electric lights, no street lighting. When the sun goes down, it’s going to get pretty dark, I’d guess.”

Fifteen minutes later, they had carried everything inside. Mart locked the car and the front door of the building, feeling that since there was presumably no one around to interfere with them, there was also no one around to help if that presumption turned out to be incorrect. They chose a room to sleep in and had soon set up air mattresses and bedding. The windows were opened wide to allow some air to pass through, and the door propped open so that it would not slam.

A food preparation area was their next priority. They considered the original kitchen, but decided that it would need too much cleaning to be done that evening. Instead, they chose the room opposite their bedroom, which contained a moderately large table and a built-in cupboard with wide shelves. With its windows opened, too, the breeze flowed from one side of the building to the other and made the rooms smell fresher. Before long, the temperature seemed to drop a little as well.

“Let’s fix ourselves a snack,” Mart suggested, poking through the supply bags for inspiration. “I’m feeling hungry from all that driving and it’ll be much easier while it’s still light.”

Trixie rolled her eyes and muttered about the large meal they had already eaten on the way, but set to work. By the time the sun was sinking behind the trees, they had prepared a substantial snack and sat down on the floor to eat it, since there was only one chair in the place. A light breeze ruffled the leaves of nearby trees and the building made the occasional settling sound, but otherwise it was quiet outside their room.

They cleaned up after their food preparation as best they could, then packed the supplies into the cupboard in case animals could get inside. The door of that room was inclined to swing to and fro in the breeze, so Trixie found a heavy weight and propped it open.

As the light of day faded into twilight, Mart began trying to set up the gas lantern they had brought, only to find that the mantle was broken so that the lantern would not light. He searched in vain for the spares, but could not find them by flashlight in the gathering gloom inside. Finally, he had to give up.

“It will be somewhere really obvious in the morning,” he grumbled, putting the lantern aside with a thump. “I guess we’ll just have to use our flashlights tonight and sort it out in the morning.”

“We’ll run out of batteries,” Trixie objected, searching through their supplies. “We’ve got some candles for emergencies. We’ll have to use those.”

“Run out of batteries?” Mart asked, incredulous at the thought. “With the number that we brought? We could probably run them day and night for a week without running out.”

She shook her head at the objection. “Maybe I just like candles better, then. And don’t even start on it being dangerous; I’ll be careful with them.”

After a quick search through the old kitchen, she found a metal tray which she set on a flat-seated wooden chair in the room they had chosen for a bedroom. She placed two of the candles on the tray and made sure that they would not tip. Having carefully checked that the chair was steady and unlikely to be knocked over, she lit them both, brightening the dimness which was engulfing the room.

“It’s kind of creepy, the way the light flickers all around and makes the shadows move,” Mart commented, looking into the corners of the room. “I think it would have been better if you’d put the candles in the corner to keep the draughts away from them.”

“Picky, picky,” she pretended to grumble. “You can move them if you think it’ll help.”

He did so, but it did not make all that much difference. There were enough gaps around the room to allow the air to move and the small flames with it. Outside, however, the breeze had dropped to a strange stillness. Night creatures were stirring, but no human sounds were to be heard.

Trixie stood by the open window and looked out at a patch of deepening sky and at the dark building next door. “It seems wrong to be the only ones here,” she commented, shivering in spite of the warmth in the room. “It’s too quiet and too dark.”

“Maybe we should go outside and see what it’s really like,” Mart suggested. “Maybe it’s just an illusion from sitting in this room with flickering candles.”

His sister grinned. “Good thinking.”

She grabbed one of the candles and carefully carried it to the door. Mart followed along with the other. They stepped out into the coolness of the evening. Trixie could still feel the heat radiated from the candle’s flame on her face and arms, but it was not so oppressive as it had been inside.

“See?” Mart asked, waving his free hand. “We were just spooking ourselves. We might as well have been telling ghost stories in there.”

“That’ll be fun when the others get here,” Trixie answered, sitting down on the front stairs and setting the candle next to her. “And when we know our way around a little, it’ll be fun to explore at night, too.”

They sat there until the last of the light faded and countless stars shone down. Mart’s earlier prediction proved correct: the darkness was intense. In spite of their journey and of the fact that they were both usually asleep by this time, neither was very sleepy when they decided to call it a night. Once safe in their room, Trixie blew out the candles and felt her way to her bed. In the deep darkness, she sighed and settled herself onto the air mattress. For a long time she lay awake, listening to the sounds outside and trying to imagine what was making them. Finally, she drifted off to sleep.

Trixie awoke with a jolt. In the back of her mind, she knew that there had been a noise where no noise should be. She lay very still and listened with all her might. When the noise came, it was loud enough to make her jump, and seemed to have come from the upper floor of the building, right above her head. She stared upwards, but could see nothing.

“What was that?” Mart asked in a low voice. “It almost sounded like there was someone upstairs.”

From above, a floorboard creaked, then another did so, and another, rather like someone was walking across the upper floor. Another thump sounded and both siblings jumped in surprise.

“We locked up, didn’t we?” Trixie whispered back. “Did you check all the windows upstairs?”

“Of course not,” he answered. “I didn’t even check the downstairs windows, and we’re sleeping next to an open window, so why should I check the upstairs ones?”

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Trixie grumbled. “I didn’t even think about what might get in by the windows. It’s too hot to close this one, but we should have at least made sure the ones elsewhere in the building were shut. I don’t know why you didn’t do that, Mart.”

He let out an exasperated sound. “I don’t you why you didn’t, if you think it’s so important. Who do you think would get in there, anyway? Spiderman?”

“It sure sounds like there’s someone up there,” she answered, as another set of creaks seemed to go in the other direction. “Wasn’t there a tree up against the building, around the back? Maybe they climbed from the tree to the window. I don’t suppose it could be an animal, could it?”

“It’s definitely not a cow.” Mart sounded completely serious. “But, since I don’t know exactly what other kinds of animals we might find in this area, I can’t really judge on that. It sounds too big to be a porcupine. There might be black bears, I guess, and they’re sometimes active at night. Or, it might be something from the cat family – I wonder if there are mountain lions around here? Though, I’d guess they’d be lighter on their feet. That sounds bigger, like human-sized.”

“Can we lock the door to this room?” Trixie asked.

There were soft sounds as Mart got out of his bed and crossed to the door. “No key,” he answered. A few moments later there were sounds of his moving something else. At the same time, the sounds upstairs became louder and, somehow, more urgent. “I’ve wedged the chair under the door. That’ll help a little, I guess. It’ll give us some notice if someone tries to get in.”

Mart returned to his bed and the two waited in silence for a long while. Nothing happened. Silence reigned once more in the old building. After some time, they both dropped into an uneasy sleep.

Continue to part 2.