Braxton Campus Mysteries Collection - Books 5-8

Chapter 3-3

“I"ve been meaning to call you. How are things going post-term as Wharton County mayor?” While he"d been an enthusiastic devotee of Nana D"s opponent, Bartleby tried his best to preserve a relationship with my grandmother throughout the campaign.

Bartleby"s pensive glare across the campus revealed his despondent longing for the past. “Seraphina is doing a wonderful job as my successor. I am elated she beat Stanton, but don"t tell him that. He"s a good poker buddy, and I have little else going on these days.”

“I"m sure she"ll be glad when I update her. Don"t sell yourself short. I hear you"re keeping busy as the town"s historian.” A gust of pungent, smoky air drifted by us. The cafeteria was serving roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate for all the folks watching the demolition.

“Yes, a longtime hobby. I know everything about this town, all its secrets, both good and bad. I"m not sure if I trust you enough with those details.” A devilish smile appeared on his face, highlighting a blackened tooth that desperately needed to be pulled, as we navigated the campus pathways.

I inquired if he"d tried to purchase my house before Nana D had convinced Hiram Grey to sell it to us. After Bartleby cautiously nodded but kept his quivering lips silent, I proposed, “Perhaps you"d like to see the renovation work I"ve undertaken. I"d be curious to talk more about the place.”

“That would be most generous of you, Kellan. I wanted to access that house again, but alas, it didn"t work out. Many fond memories as a youngster. I was notably close to the owners.”

“Why don"t you stop by tomorrow around five o"clock? We should be done with the major work, and I can give you the grand tour.” I was growing more confident that Bartleby hid something from me.

“That sounds delightful. Maybe we"ll encounter a few ghosts. I assume you know all about its history,” he wistfully replied, shaking my hand. “I"m also an expert on Braxton"s paranormal activity, my lad. The things I know would haunt your dreams.” Bartleby stepped away to find a spot in the crowd.

I stood dumbfounded. What had he meant by that statement? My nightmares were already crazy enough. I crossed the path to the designated area where we"d watch the demolition process. After pointing at Maggie, the construction worker handed me a helmet and allowed me to pass through.

“Don"t you look cute in your little outfit,” I teased, confident the hard hat shouldn"t swallow her entire forehead and line of sight. “Can you even see with that thing?”

“They didn"t have any left in my size. You"re one to talk. That hat doesn"t go with your cardigan, flannel, corduroys, and moccasins. You"re a cross between a burly lumberjack and a prepster.” She grabbed my arm, steering us closer. Her lustrous hair and porcelain skin glistened in the bright sunlight.

“I assume we have to stay behind this yellow caution tape, huh?” I struggled to determine the exact next steps once the building plunged to the ground and left a bunch of rubble in its place.

“Once they implode the old wing, it"ll take some time for the dust and debris to settle. Then, the inspector will ensure the ground is stable. A few of us can get closer to take pictures of what"s left of the old building… you know… for the history books.” Maggie beamed, knowing that her vision to build the library of her dreams had come true. Well, at least over the next few years it would occur. In this phase they"d reuse the land under the original, historic two-story schoolhouse to build the first wing of the new library. They"d chosen implosion as the initial method for clearing the old structure because of its underlying materials. Also, its location was too close to the other buildings and lacked proper space for massive construction vehicles.

We watched the countdown on a nearby clock and listened to the small crowd shout, “Three, two, one….” Then, Maggie pressed the lever, and it felt like the earth shook all around us. While it wasn"t huge in terms of what it must be like to raze an entire city skyscraper, it generated a loud boom and created a thick, cloudy sky. Luckily, we"d worn large glasses to cover our eyes and masks over our mouths and noses to breathe more easily.

After the structure"s successful disintegration, a small crane and wrecking ball knocked down two walls that hadn"t entirely collapsed. They"d only used a tiny amount of dynamite to bust through the appropriate levels and that specific section of the building. Once the dust settled, a clear view into the ground under the original two-room schoolhouse area was visible. The crew declared the zone stable and called Maggie and me to the far side, where we could see directly into the shadowy sub-level.

Maggie snapped her first photo, then asked me to take one of her as she navigated near the edge of the hole that had been blown out. A construction worker stood by to ensure she didn"t slip. Once confirming she securely held on to a pole, Maggie smiled for the picture.

When I moved closer, I peered deeper into the pit. My stomach plummeted, forcing an immediate scream to erupt from my throat. “Hold up, hold up. No, no, no. It can"t be.”

Maggie gulped and reached for my arm. “What"s wrong? Is something breaking or rickety?”

I pointed at my shocking discovery and implored the construction worker to check it out.

“Ay! I see it too,” he yelled, waving his hands and signing the cross against his lips.

Another crew member redirected a spotlight directly into the creepy hole in the ground. Maggie leaned forward, releasing a guttural screech. I yanked her backward and clutched my gut, uncertain if I"d hold the contents of lunch inside its unstable walls.

Embedded twelve feet under the surface in a red clay-like material was a skeleton whose lower bones were partially trapped, but whose upper half was entirely visible. Though dirt speckled its skull, the grisly image of something long dead stared back at us. It looked human, but given Halloween was approaching, someone could"ve planned an elaborate hoax. Then again, Braxton"s had more than its fair share of crime this year. Ultimately, common sense reminded me dead bodies or skeletons didn"t arbitrarily show up frequently. This wasn"t a practical joke. We were never meant to find the skeleton.

“Call security immediately. I think we"ve just found another dead body in the library.”