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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: General Interest
- Published: 11/08/2023
The Haunting of Miles Blackwell
Born 1929, M, from Roseville/CA, United StatesThe Haunting of Miles Blackwell (Approx. 1,500 wds.)
The packed Sacramento courtroom grew quiet as the jury filed in. The defendant, Miles Blackwell, a mild-looking man in his 30’s, with round eyes behind thick glasses, straightened in his chair. Nine months before, the body of Miles’ wife Peggy had been found in a lake by their cabin in Northern California. But the cause of death wasn’t drowning; she’d been stabbed many times. The prosecution’s case was: Miles’ real estate business was in debt and he’d recently taken out a million dollar insurance policy on his wife; neighbors had frequently overheard them arguing; DNA had shown that a blood stain on Miles’ jacket was Peggy’s. The defense was: Miles was in the process of arranging a bank loan to cover his debt; the marriage had some rocky moments but he loved his wife and would never harm her; the blood stain evidence had been contaminated in the police laboratory.
The jury foreman stood up while the courtroom held its collective breath. He spoke: “We find the defendant not guilty.” Pandemonium broke out. Miles lawyer and two bailiffs rushed him through the crowd, but before he could get away his wife’s sister, Pamela, who, with her red hair and green eyes, looked strikingly like the dead woman (some of their friends said she even sounded like her), confronted him in the courthouse hallway. “You’re not getting away with this. I know you killed Peggy.”
The two bailiffs laid hands on Pamela, but Miles said, “No, let her go. She’s overwrought. I can understand how she feels.” Pamela’s husband Jim came up and led her away. Reporters swarmed around Miles. “I can only say I’m glad this ordeal is over,” he told them.. I loved my wife. I’m posting a reward to find her real killer.”
Finally, that night, Miles was alone in the big suburban house he’d built when he and Peggy were married. He went into the dining room and poured himself a drink. “I think I can celebrate a little now,” he said out loud. He’d done it. He’d gotten away with murder. His face took on a hard look the jury had never seen. He’d sell the house, get rid of his business and move. But not right away. That wouldn’t look good. Well, he had plenty of time.
In the early morning he suddenly awoke; he’d had a dream about Peggy. She’d risen from the lake, blood coming out of her wounds. It had been horrible. He shook his head to clear away the vision. Suddenly, he was aware of Peggy’s perfume. He got out of bed and called out his wife’s name but of course no one was there. It must have been her clothes; or, more likely, he’d imagined it. Peggy was safely dead, and he’d gotten away with murder.
* * *
In a much smaller house, Pamela and Jim’s, several miles away these two and Peggy’s best friend, Terri White, sat around a table. “How do your parents feel about this?” Terri was asking Pamela.
“They don’t know what they feel. They always liked Miles, the big real estate developer. They thought Peggy was getting a great catch. It’s my fault. I never liked him. I should never have let her marry him. But she was head-over-heels in love, the folks thought he was wonderful, it all happened so fast.”
“Are you sure he did it?” asked Jim.
“Oh, yes, I’m sure, as sure as I am of anything. I told you of that one time he tried to come on to me.”
“And I’m sure, too,” said Terri. “The same thing happened with me. That bastard killed her. So, what do we do?”
“I have a friend at that bank,” said Jim. “I want to take a closer look at that supposed loan they were going to make to him.”
“Yes, I always thought the guy who testified only did so because he’s an old buddy of Miles.”
“I can keep an eye on Miles,” said Terri. “I can see what he’s up to. Maybe he has a girl friend stashed somewhere.”
“Will you have the time?” asked Pamela.
“I’m a computer consultant so I work on my own. I’ll make the time.”
“Good. I’ll go back and talk to all of Peggy’s friends again. Maybe something will turn up. We’ll get this guy yet.”
* * *
Miles had just returned to his house, after having a satisfactory day. He’d been to the insurance office and obtained his check, which he’d immediately deposited into his offshore account. He’d had a meeting to lay the groundwork for selling his business. Yes, everything was going according to plan. The phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Hello.”
“Hello, Milo,” said Peggy’s husky voice. “You’ve been a busy little boy, haven’t you?”
“Who is this?”
“Why, Milo, you haven’t forgotten how your wife sounds already, have you?’
“My wife is dead.”
“Dead, maybe, but not gone. And, oh, despite all your plans, you’re not getting away with killing me.”
He wondered if his phone was tapped. Well, they weren’t going to trick him. “I didn’t kill my wife,” he said and slammed the phone down on the receiver. It was a trap, he knew. But it had been Peggy’s voice. And nobody else knew that she called him Milo.
* * *
Pamela, Jim and Terri were once again gathered around the coffee table, where they had their weekly meetings. “I’ve followed him around everywhere,” said Terri. “I would have bet he had another woman, but nothing.”
“Same here,” said Pamela. “I’ve talked with all of Peggy’s friends. They confirm that they argued sometimes, more lately, but nothing we can go to the police with.”
“I may have come up with something,” said Jim. “Miles could have had more money problems than it appeared. He has an offshore banking account. My friend at the bank is trying to unravel the records. I hope he’ll have something pretty soon.”
“It’s a lead anyway,” said Pamela. “It’s all so vague. No wonder that jury acquitted him. It’s so hard to come up with anything concrete.”
“It’s discouraging, I know,” said Terri. “but we’re not going to give up, are we?”
“Give up? No, never.” The three clasped hands. “Peggy, he’s not getting away with it.”
* * *
Miles was having dinner alone in one of the city’s most expensive restaurants, one he’d frequented before the, well, before everything that happened. He’d been keeping close to home, but the house, even though he’d gotten rid of Peggy’s things, was oppressive. He kept on having that same dream, of her rising out of the lake. Then after he woke up, he heard, or thought he heard, strange sounds, creaks and thumps. When he got up and investigated, there was never anything there. It was nerves, but tonight he felt he had to get out.
He was almost finished with his meal when he looked up and saw three people standing by his table: Peggy’s sister, Pamela, her husband Jim and Peggy’s friend Terri.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Nothing,” said Pamela. “We just happened to come here for dinner. It was one of Peggy’s favorite places. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”
“You’re not fooling me,” said Miles. “It was you who telephoned me that night, wasn’t it, pretending to be Peggy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Pamela.
“You’re lying. I’m warning you, stay away from me or you’ll regret it.” Standing up, he threw some bills on the table and rushed out.
* * *
He was finally home, Miles thought with relief. On the way back it had started raining, a sudden storm which had made driving treacherous. He threw his wet coat down in the hallway and went up the stairs. He’d change and get a good stiff drink. He was almost to his bedroom when the door opened and Peggy stepped out. Her long red hair was down around her shoulders and there were splashes of blood on her white dress, just as in the dream. Outside, there was a flash of lightning and thunder crackled, adding to the eeriness of the scene. Miles took a step back. “Peggy?”
“Surprised to see me, Milo? I told you I wasn’t gone.”
“No, you’re dead. I killed you. Don’t come any nearer.” Miles continued to back away, toward the stairs. “Don’t . . ..”
* * *
The two policemen stood looking down at the crumpled body at the foot of the stairs. “Yeah,” said one. “Looks like he was backing away from something, then he tripped on that rug and fell down the stairs. Broke his neck, just like that.”
“Uh, huh. Whatever he was backing away from must have been pretty scary. Look at the expression on his face.”
“Yeah, like he’d seen a ghost.”
The End
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