Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 01 - Haunted Hijinks by Madison Johns

walked right through Caroline who was waving her hands frantically to stop me from going inside. Nope. I wasn’t about to let anything stop me from speaking my mind, although it did occur to me that perhaps I shouldn’t let them know I had overheard their entire conversation.
    I sprang into the room, and all eyes were on me, looking at me peculiarly, or so I thought.
    “What happened to you?” Eleanor asked, a look of concern overtaking her face.
    “Whatever do you mean, Eleanor? I’m just fine.”
    Elsie and Marjory’s faces turned down into noticeable frowns, like you might see when someone wanted to tell you something but didn’t. I didn’t take a cue from that, though.
    “Maybe you outta take a look in the mirror,” Bill suggested. “You look like you were stuck in a broom closet.”
    “Bill,” Marjory scolded. “That’s not very nice. I’m sure Agnes has a good explanation about her whereabouts and why she’s covered in cob webs.”
    I raced over to a mirror that hung on the opposite wall and took in my appearance. Eleanor rushed over and began pulling off the cobwebs as I brushed dust from my clothing the best that I could. “Oh, wow. I never expected to get that dirty. I assure you, it’s quite explainable—” I clammed up then because I didn’t want to tell them the truth. I’d rather have a discussion with Eleanor about the matter later. I wasn’t sure it’s common knowledge about all the hidden passageways in the mansion, so for now I’d keep that to myself. I really wanted to tell Eleanor about the ghost, but I just was so unsure how she’d take it. I even wondered if she’d believe me at all.
    “I-I …” Eleanor’s eyes narrowed slightly as I added, “I must have brushed against one of the walls. There are still plenty of cobwebs in this place.”
    “Yes, like inside your rattled head,” Eleanor said in a whisper as she passed me on her way from the library.
    I shrugged and left the room to catch up with Eleanor. “Wait up, Eleanor. I have something to tell you.”
    Eleanor turned in a huff. “I’m done with your wild tales. It’s obvious that you’d rather not tell me what’s really going on.”
    Before I could say anything, Eleanor made her way toward the drawing room. I took my leave and cleaned myself up before I returned. Mr. Wilson was engaged in a discussion about trout fishing with Frank Alton, who nodded like he heard every word he had said when I returned.
    The room had a white fireplace and mantle and not a thing gothic looking in the room. Leather sofas and chairs were arranged around the room with a large-screen television affixed to one of the walls. Dorothy Alton clicked through the channels until she came to the news, settling herself back on the loveseat next to her beloved Frank.
    The news reporter made an announcement about the woman’s body found at the Butler Mansion, identifying her as Katherine Clark. According to the reporter, the police had no current leads in the case and were asking the public for tips.
    “Well, that’s just awful,” Bernice said as she pulled a pipe from her pocket.
    “Bernice, you’ll have to take that smoke outside. There’s no smoking in the Butler Mansion.”
    Bernice wet her lips with her thick tongue and shot back with, “Since when do you abide by rules, Agnes? It wasn’t all that long ago that you were butting heads with Sheriff Peterson about your investigations. Eleanor mentioned that you two found that Katherine’s body.”
    “It’s true, but I get along much better with Peterson these days.”
    “We found her body,” Eleanor said. “Did any of you know her?”
    I searched the group for any sign that they had, in fact, known the woman, but everyone had blank expressions on their faces, other than Elsie who had her eyes fixated on a yellow vase on the end table.
    “How about you, Elsie?” I asked.
    She locked eyes with me then and said, “I’d rather discuss this with you and Eleanor