Chapter Eight

Chase tossed and turned on the lumpy mattress. He regretted choosing this run-down fleabag motel. “You could always go back home,” he thought to himself. But that would mean that he would have to reconcile with Ben.

Since he had left the house, Chase had not been able to get Ben out of his mind. He expected that was normal, as they had been together since high school. Of course he couldn’t get over a breakup that easily, especially not when the relationship had lasted so long.

Chase thought of Ben, and tears sprang to his eyes. Making the decision to leave Ben had hurt, but it wasn’t fair for him to shut Chase out. They were supposed to make decisions together, and Chase was not okay with Ben doing the investigation at Silverwood Manor. That place was dangerous, and Ben had accepted the job without even consulting Chase. Then, he had the nerve to make it look like Chase had a say in it, when in truth he had already said yes.

Chase angrily punched a pillow. How could Ben treat him like this? It wasn’t like it was the first time, either. Ben always put his job first. That was his true love. Chase was second, at best. That wasn’t good enough for Chase. He needed to be put first and become the most important aspect of Ben’s life.

They’d had fights about it before. Ben always promised that Chase was the most important thing in his life, and for a while, he would treat Chase with respect. But, over time, Ben would go back to his old ways, and Chase would be relegated to a lower spot in Ben’s list of priorities.

Chase also felt ashamed. It was his job to provide for them, to earn the money to maintain their lifestyle. They didn’t live beyond their means, but they also weren’t saving enough. There was no safety cushion in case, for example, Chase’s company decided to downsize and fire him. Within a month, their savings would be gone. Chase would have to find a new job next week, and that wouldn’t be easy in the current job market.

He struggled with his decision to leave. It hadn’t been an easy one to reach, but he wondered if he didn’t decide prematurely. Maybe things could still be salvaged with Ben. So, what was stopping Chase from going back?

The answer was his foolish pride. Ben had hurt him, and Chase wanted an apology. He didn’t want it to look like he was crawling back, like he was the one with something to apologize for.

He thought about the good times. He remembered the Thanksgiving dinners, Christmas mornings, birthdays, vacations, and other special events that he and Ben had shared together. He remembered how he had felt, sharing those occasions with Ben. He knew that he still loved Ben, but he wondered if that was enough anymore.

He tossed and turned some more. He had been in the bed for several hours now. It was obvious that he would not be able to sleep. He guessed he might as well swallow his pride and at least go talk to Ben. It would be morning by the time he got to Silverwood Manor, and Ben should be wrapping up the first night’s investigation by then.

Chase packed his bag and checked out of the motel. He stopped for coffee and then started driving out of town. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread that was almost as strong as his determination to get Ben back.

He considered just calling Ben, but Chase knew that Ben kept his phone turned off during investigations. He would usually call to say goodnight and then call again in the morning. This time, there was no call. The feeling of dread grew stronger with each passing mile, but so did Chase’s determination. He kept driving.

It was just after 5:00 AM when Chase arrived at Silverwood Manor. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. The mansion grounds were still pitch black. The headlights illuminated the stone facade of the building. Chase felt a shiver down his spine.

There were three other cars in the front driveway, one of them Ben’s. Chase guessed the other two belonged to the reporter and the security guy. He pulled his car behind Ben’s and killed the engine. He sat in the car for several minutes, trying to gather the nerve to go inside.

The feeling of dread was so strong that Chase’s hands were trembling. He wasn’t afraid of ghosts, but he was afraid of the other possible dangers. What if Ben rejected him? There was also the possibility that Ben would be angry about Chase showing up uninvited to an investigation, especially this one. He considered starting the car back up and driving away.

“No, I’ve come this far, I’m not leaving without an answer,” Chase said out loud to himself. He exited the car and locked the doors.

The ground was covered with leaves fallen from the trees, and they crunched as he walked across them. Chase struggled to open the massive, wooden door. He was able to push it open just far enough to slip inside before it slammed back shut. Chase had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if the slamming door was an indication of Ben’s answer.

He walked slowly and carefully across the dusty lobby. He vaguely recalled that the mansion had been a hotel, and what little bit he could see in the moonlight streaming through the windows had potential. Chase stood in the lobby and admired the detailed woodwork, vaulted ceilings, and stone sculptures. Of course, everything was covered in dust and would need a good cleaning, but it had potential. Chase would not have minded owning a hotel like this. He allowed himself to daydream for just a moment, picturing himself as a hotelier, running the operation of the Silverwood Manor. He dismissed the thought, as he remembered the stories of death and disappearances he had heard about since he was a child.

Chase walked across the marble floors to the grand staircase. He climbed to the first landing and looked out the large picture window. He could see the orange rays of the sun beginning to rise. He turned to continue up the steps but stopped abruptly as he came face-to-face with another man.

The man was dressed in military camouflage, and the name on his shirt said “Wells.” He was blocking Chase’s path and stood silently, an angry expression on his face. This must have been the security guy hired for the investigation.

Chase said, “Excuse me. I’m Chase Morton. I’m looking for Ben Blankenship.” The man did not speak. “If you’ll just tell Ben that I’m here, I’m sure he’ll want to see me,” Chase continued. The man still did not speak. They stood in silence as Chase attempted to read the man’s face. His expression was stony, angry, and unchanging.

“Please, I need to see Ben. I can wait until he’s finished investigating for the night,” Chase bargained.

The man suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Chase by the throat and knocking him backwards. He squeezed tightly, and Chase could not draw a breath. He flailed his arms wildly, hoping to knock his attacker off of him. He kicked and thrashed the best he could, but it wasn’t enough. The soldier pinned him down, never releasing pressure on his throat. Chase saw colored spots in his eyes, and his chest burned. He was desperate for air. He began to feel dizzy, and he could feel the frothy liquid spilling out of his mouth onto his cheek. Exhausted from the lack of oxygen, Chase stopped moving, and everything went black.