Schuyler Square Day 84 Welcome to the Neighborhood

Steve Robertson liked being retired. After years and years and years of battling traffic, dealing with obtuse bosses and clueless co-workers, he loved not having a schedule and never having any place in particular to go. He even liked living in Schuyler Square, although he had to admit that small town living took some getting used to. It was certainly different from their life back in Chicagoland but so far Steve was finding the change refreshing. Now if DeeDee would just give up on her whole haunted house theory, Steve knew that he could sink into retired bliss quite happily.

"Did you hear that noise last night?" DeeDee asked. She was making oatmeal for breakfast, something Steve loathed but tolerated because of his cholesterol level.

"What noise?" Steve asked, keeping his eyes on the newspaper. He was reading an editorial on the late Ron Schuyler that was so fawning that he thought he might throw up. Although Steve had never met Ron, he doubted that anyone other than a saint deserved the write up that one Mindy Cooper had given him. Man among men. Outstanding, committed citizen. Impossible to replace. None of those descriptions went with what Steve head heard about Ron around town since moving in. Despicable, skirt chasing, booze soaked creep would be more accurate.

"I woke up around two in the morning and I heard the strangest sounds coming from downstairs," DeeDee reported. "At first it sounded like someone crying and then it sounded like someone choking and finally I thought I heard a scream."

"Probably Chelsea next door," Steve said. "She looks like she does all three of those things on a regular basis."

"It wasn't Chelsea," DeeDee said. "I got up and looked out the window and her house was dark."

"People can cry, choke and scream in the dark," Steve pointed out. He stopped reading the editorial. What was the point of such a blatant suck-up piece? Ron Schuyler was dead. That Mindy Cooper must have some other angle in mind.

"It was coming from out living room, Steve."

Oh, no. DeeDee was starting again. "Are you saying Mary Austin was down in our living room gnashing her teeth last night?"

DeeDee set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of her husband. "You tell me," she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her bathrobe pocket. Steve stared at it.

"What the hell is that?"

"I found it on the mantle. Did you put it there?"

Steve picked up the paper and squinted at it. "Why would I leave an article on the break up of Burt Reynolds and Loni Anderson's marriage on our mantle?"

"I don't know but I do know that I didn't leave it there."

"Then who did?"

DeeDee's eyes met Steve's steadily. "Don't you know?"

"DeeDee, a ghost can't leave clippings from old issues of gossip magazines on our mantle!"

"Then you tell me what's going on."

Silently, Steve picked up his spoon and began eating oatmeal that tasted even pastier than usual. He didn't answer his wife because he honestly didn't know what was going on but he didn't like it. "I'm sure there's an explanation."

"Good because I'm sure of that too. As a matter of fact, Mindy Cooper's going to help me figure it out. She's coming over tonight and we're going to have a seance."

"Mindy Cooper--the paper's editor?"

"Yes--you don't mind, do you?"

Steve continued eating his oatmeal, not bothering to reply since he knew that the seance--whether he approved or not--was already a done deal.

Schuyler Square Day 67 Haunted?

"I don't know about this Steve." DeeDee Robertson stared up at the ceiling. "Maybe we shouldn't move here." She was lying next to her husband Steve at a rundown motel in the dinky town of Schuyler Square, Illinois, and she had the feeling that the two of them had just made one of the bigger mistakes of their marriage. Bigger than the time early in their marriage they had decided to Z brick a wall in the living room only to find their math was off and they ran out of fake bricks two-thirds through the project and couldn't afford any more. Steve had made up for that goof by strategically placing the remaining bricks in a staggered pattern that looked fine when you were drunk but a lot like a gap toothed beggar the rest of the time. Bigger than when DeeDee planned a camping vacation and then accidentally gave them food poisoning ten miles from the nearest indoor bathroom. Bigger even than when they allowed their daughter's then-boyfriend to move in with them only to find out he was wanted by every branch of the law in the tr-state area. Still, this mistake made the other ones look incredibly minor. Were they really going to be happy living in a small town in a haunted house?

"Honey, relax," Steve said. "The house was left to us, free and clear. We both agreed that if we move to Schuyler Square we'll be able to enjoy our retirement with a lot more freedom. You know the rent back in the city was killing us. And think about the grandkids. Austin and Kayla are going to love visiting us here."

"But the house is haunted," DeeDee reminded him. "I don't want to live in a haunted house and I don't want my grandchildren visiting a haunted house."

"We don't know for sure that it's haunted. We heard it from two women who were probably tossing back Long Island Iced Teas when we interrupted them. Plus we're practically evicting one of them. Maybe they're tweaking the ghost story a little just to scare us off."

"They wouldn't do that. They looked like nice women. I think they were telling the truth. We're giving up restaurants, shopping and museums to move into an old house with a ghost in it."

"A free old house with a ghost in it."

"I don't want to live there."

"DeeDee, you're going to make yourself crazy and take me along for the ride. What can we do so this ghost business doesn't bother you so much?"

DeeDee considered their options and was dismayed to realize that they really didn't have many at all. Steve was right; the cost of living in the city was ridiculous and their retirement dollars would definitely go a lot farther out in the sticks. Plus they'd never had a house before and she knew it was going to be wonderful to finally have a garden and a garage and a yard. "I suppose that if we got to the bottom of what happened in the house, maybe it wouldn't be so scary. Chelsea said they never found out who murdered the woman living in our house. Maybe if we find out her soul will be at peace and she'll leave us alone. At least that's the way it always works in movies."

"Great idea. You get to the bottom of it. You love to read mysteries so maybe you can solve this one." Steve sounded like he was almost asleep.

"Will you help me?"

"You know I will," Steve agreed.

DeeDee felt better. "The first thing I need to do is find out just what happened. Who was she? Why would anyone want to kill her? How was she killed?'

"That's right, honey," Steve said, his voice barely a mumble. "You figure it out. You can do it."

DeeDee nodded in the dark. She could do it and she would. Starting first thing in the morning.

Schuyler Square Day 66 Steve and DeeDee

Steve Robertson grinned at the woman with the flaming red hair who answered the door. She was cute, a little zaftig, but nice looking. Although Steve was nuts about his wife DeeDee, he still noticed other attractive women. “I know,” he said. “Steve and DeeDee. We hear it all the time.”

The redhead blinked. “Hear what?”

“Steve and DeeDee. It sounds like Steve and Eydie—the singers?” Steve suddenly felt quite old. “You don’t know who Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme are?”

“I think I remember my mom listening to them.” The redhead wiped her nose on the back of her hand and then held it out for Steve to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Robertson, but I’m afraid I haven’t seen your wife. Are you new to the neighborhood?”

“Not yet. We’re buying the house next door.”

“You’re what?” A dark haired woman poked her head around the kitchen door. “Which house next door? The brick one or the yellow one?”

“The brick one.”

“You can’t buy that house. That’s where I live.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to blink. “We inherited the house from Ron Schuyler. It’s our house now.”

“Oh, crap. When was I going to hear about that?”

Steve felt terrible. He’d known it was a bad idea to come to Schuyler Square without letting anyone know but DeeDee had been sure that it would be all right. That was DeeDee—a born optimist if ever there was one. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Veronica Chandler and I’m renting that house from the Schuyler Corporation.”

“Perhaps we could work something out,” Steve began. What that something would be he didn’t know. They’d already packed up their apartment back in the city and their furniture and belongings were on their way to Schuyler Square.

“There you are!” DeeDee walked up the driveway. “I thought I lost you. I saw some of the most gorgeous flowers and I wanted to ask the owner what they were called. I’m going to have a beautiful garden, Steve! I want it to pop—lots of color and lots of variety. It’s going to be so wonderful to finally have our own house after living in shoeboxes for all of these years.”

Steve put a steadying hand on his wife’s arm. “Honey, this is Veronica Chandler and—“

“Chelsea Van Husen,” the red head said.

“It’s nice to meet both of you,” DeeDee replied. “I want to meet all of our neighbors. I’m going to have a big housewarming party as soon as we’re settled and I want you both to come.”

“There’s a slight problem, DeeDee,” Steve said. “Veronica’s living in our house. She didn’t know that we inherited it.”

“Oh, dear.” DeeDee’s face lit up. “I know! You can stay with us until you find another place to live! That way we’ll all be happy.”

Steve looked at his wife fondly. It was just like DeeDee to want everyone to be happy. He glanced over at Veronica and saw that she didn’t look too displeased with the suggestion. “I’m game if you are,” Veronica said.

“Or you could stay with me,” Chelsea offered. “Besides, you wanted to move anyway. Who wants to live in a haunted house?”

“Haunted?” Steve and DeeDee repeated together.