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Henri shook her head. “That was always a mystery in our family, and my grandmother didn’t like to talk about it. According to my mother, who was the oldest sibling, she simply walked off one day when she was around three, and they never found her. Everyone looked for her, even the police, but she never turned up. My mother told me that my grandmother never gave up hope. I personally think she either died somewhere, or someone took her. She was a cute little thing.”
“Did someone tell you she was cute? How do you know?” Vince asked. I knew he wanted as much information as he could get.
“Because I have a picture of her,” she said and handed it to me. As soon as I saw the black and white photo of a smiling toddler with golden locks and a frilly little dress, I knew I was staring at Carrie Ann Stoker, the girl trapped inside Stoker House. We already had a picture of her as a young girl, and from what I could tell, these two pictures were of the same child, only at different ages.
I passed the cracked photo to the guys and as each of them gazed down at her, I saw the terrible sadness on their faces for this once-happy little girl.
“Why did you think someone took her?” Vince wanted to know. We were all mesmerized by what Henri was saying.
“Because my mother said that on the day Matty disappeared, she and my mother were fighting over a doll. My mother thought that Matty had gone somewhere to hide it but then got lost coming back. She liked to hide things that she wanted, and she really wanted that doll. They were dirt poor. Sweets and toys were a luxury. Matty liked to hide things like that. My mother sometimes cried over the story, until she stopped talking about Matty altogether. Why do you want to know about her? What made you so curious? Did someone find her remains?”
I reached out and touched Henri’s arm. “We think Matty or Matilda might be Carrie Ann Stoker. That Boris and Carmen Stoker kidnapped Matilda and locked her up in her playroom when her mom, Chantel, came looking for her. Carrie Ann kept a journal, and we found it. She had memories of a woman with blond hair who played with her and was kind to her.”
Henri’s eyes filled with tears. “Both my mother and my grandmother were blondes, just like me. If this is true, it would mean so much to me and my family.”
“Carrie Ann had blond hair, while both her so-called parents had black hair, like me,” Vince said. “I think my ancestors kidnapped her.”
I knew Vince said he didn’t care that his relatives were murderers, but I think this version made it even worse for him. Now that he was talking to Henri, a relative of Matilda, I knew he struggled with all this information.
“Is it true that she haunts Stoker House,” Henri asked. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes, it’s absolutely true,” I said, while holding her hand.
“Can I come by and talk to her?”
I wasn’t expecting that response.
“Of course. Anytime,” Vince told her. “Now that we know the truth, I think she’d love it.”
Vince had already made up his mind, and I suppose we all had. Carrie Ann Stoker was in fact Matilda Darling.
But who were the other ghosts that haunted the house? Would we ever know who they were?
“How about Saturday night, after the casket races?” she asked, looking as though she meant it. “The race ends in front of the Stoker House, so it’ll make it easy on everyone.”
I didn’t know if it was safe to bring anyone else into that house after we learned there was another, more threatening ghost haunting the place. However, Vince had other plans.
“Sure, that will work,” he said. “We’ll make hot cocoa.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “If everything you say is true, and Carrie Ann or Matilda has haunted Stoker House long enough, it’s time to send her home to her family. Plus, I’d really like to meet her.”
I didn’t know whether I should tell her or not, but I thought whenever we smelled roses in the house, that was Chantel, her grandmother, looking for Matilda.
“Henri, one more question. Do you, by any chance, know what Chantel’s favorite scent was? I know that’s a crazy question, but I have my reasons for asking.” I wanted an answer before I got her hopes up about her grandmother.
“That’s easy. Roses. They both loved roses.”
I swear to God, my whole body shook from that answer.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, we entered Stoker house once again. He couldn’t wait to confront Carrie Ann with everything we’d learned.
“Should we lower the lights or something? Sit around a table? Play scary music?” Vince asked with all the seriousness of an undertaker.
“I think we should just head on up to the playroom?” Bram said, getting to the heart of the matter.
“Bram is right. She’s stuck there. It’s where you two found her journal,” Freddie explained as he slipped out of his black overcoat. “I think we should confront her there.”
We all took off our coats and hung them on hooks near the front door. The guys slipped out of their suitcoats and made their shirts more comfortable. I was stuck in my dress, but I did slip my heels off, which felt like heaven.
