“I’ll take you shopping if you want. There’s a nice little boutique around the corner. Next to the laundry, which is part of the restaurant where we eat on the weekend, Jacob’s Ladder. It has a pool table, too. It’s not exactly couture, but they’ll have a skirt or two that will work. What else do you need to know? Oh, stay away from the handyman. He’s a creeper. And remember not to walk alone along the back path through Selden Arboretum if you take the shortcut.” Her voice has taken on the warning edge I’ve already heard several times this afternoon.
“Not another ‘I won’t graduate’ legend?”
“Oh, no. The arboretum is haunted.”
“Haunted. A path? Ludicrous.”
“Seriously. It cuts through the woods, and a girl was murdered there.”
“How horrible. When?”
“Ten years ago. That’s when Dean Westhaven—the current Dean Westhaven, I mean—took over from her mother. It’s why she’s so young. She was only twenty-five when it happened. The board sent Westhaven the elder packing over the bad PR. The student, Ellie Robertson, she was the heir to some massive New England fortune, I don’t remember whose. Her dad has serious pull and, after the whole incident, got the dean removed.”
“The incident? That’s a mild word for a murder.”
“The school’s verbiage. They’re always in publicity mode. Ellie had been complaining to anyone who would listen, the dean, school security, teachers, about a townie who was stalking her and the dean didn’t do anything about it. One night, late, the guy followed her home from the laundry and killed her behind the dorms. Raped her, too. There are varying stories about the damage he did to her face, but supposedly, he carved out her eyes and took them home with him. They found them on his mantel. Really freaky shit.”
An intense shiver goes down my spine. “I’ll say.”
“So seriously, you never walk the arboretum path alone. Even if it’s not haunted, it’s creepy and not safe. It’s outside the walls.” This last is said with such earnestness I simply nod.
“Outside the walls equals not safe alone. Got it.”
“And stay out of the attics. They’re totally haunted. Supposedly, one of the secret societies found several sets of infants’ bones up there a few years ago, in between the ceiling and the wall. I don’t know what they were doing there.”
“The society?”
“The bones. They were probably the children of some of the girls who lived here, stillborns and the like. You’d think they’d bury them, the graveyard is actually pretty cool.”
“Brilliant. Haunted attics with infant bones in the walls. This sounds like a stellar place.”
“Well, Goode is old, and when you get old, you get weird. Oh, I almost forgot, be careful in the tunnels.”
“The tunnels?”
“There was an Underground Railroad through here. You know what that is, right?”
“Vaguely. To do with slavery, yes?”
“We were a safe haven from the plantations down South to the free North. Pretty cool. The grounds are littered with tunnels and old cottages, but they’re totally off-limits. They’re dangerous, and most of them have collapsed in on themselves.”
“Where would I find one?”
“I don’t know, actually. I’ve only been told to stay away.”
The deep, resonating peal of a very old bell shudders through the building, making me jump nearly out of my skin.
Piper intones, “For whom the bell tolls.... Don’t worry, Ash. You’ll get used to it. Even when the hauntings happen, the bells toll and chase away the ghosts. They don’t like the noise.”
She smiles, and I feel a spark of hope. She might be a friend, eventually.
“I can’t imagine why not. It’s unbelievably loud.”
“It’s really not to chase away ghosts. It’s so we never try to use not hearing the bell as an excuse for being late.”
“Right. Brilliant.”
Camille sticks her head in the door. “Are you two coming? You heard the bells, we’re going to be late. Ash, why haven’t you changed yet? Hurry! I don’t want JPs on my first day!”