Death for the Black Rose

I bought the house sight unseen via an ad on the Internet. The online photographs showed a smallish house nestled at the bottom of three very tall mountains that surrounded it like giant sentinels. All the rooms were on the same floor and it seemed the perfect solution to my dilemma. It was a welcomed bonus that it was just outside a quiet "out of the way" little town called Buckhannon in West Virginia.

When I spoke to the realtor on the phone, he told me that the house had previously belonged to a couple who had mysteriously disappeared ten years ago. The family finally had them declared legally dead and wanted to sell the property as quickly as possible. When I asked what had happened, the realtor seemed almost reluctant to say anything, but alluded that the couple had made comments around town about the house being haunted. I laughed and told the agent I had little fear of ghosts since I did not believe they existed. Relieved, he quoted me what the family wanted for the little house and the few acres around it. The price they asked was more than reasonable and within a couple of weeks, it belonged to me.

I needed to be alone for a time and this sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Due to my car accident two months before, I was still having some problems in getting around. Someone had accelerated a vehicle into mine just at the moment I was getting into it and then drove away. The police were never able to find out who the driver was or to find the vehicle that hit me.

A month in the hospital with a fractured leg and almost all my ribs broken from hitting the steering wheel, and then another two weeks in rehabilitation, had put me mostly back together. Enough that with a cane and some improvements to the house itself, I should be able to live in moderate comfort without any major difficulty.

In any case, being a writer meant I would not be outside very often. With having two books out of three published last year, I was under a short deadline to get the third one done within the next couple of months. It was a series of books detailing the dynamics of being part of an online community. The first two books had examined the parallel similarities between an online community and the community dynamics in the real world.

This last book was about the conflicts that could happen in a chatroom environment, including online friendships, love affairs, bullying, and even threats made from one room member to another. Of the three, this was going to be my most difficult one to write, especially since I was an active member in several different chatrooms, using a different screen name for each one. As I watched, the other "roomies" would interact with each other, some as friends and others who showed a distinct dislike for different members. Even a few disliked me, but all I could do was laugh. After all, I was only a font on the monitor screen.

I sometimes would interject a comment or question that often started an argument between different members. Frequently I would point out to different users how they were actively bashing and hurting feelings of other people in the room. In one way, it was exciting, but in another, it was a sad commentary on how people treated each other. The extent of bullying that went on was far beyond what people normally experienced in the real day-to-day existence in their neighborhoods. The only difference seemed to be that the individuals could hide behind their screen names and it was obvious that this ability to be whoever they wanted to be gave them the freedom to say almost anything to each other.

Chapter Two

Trying to hire a local handy man had proved to be almost an impossible task. I found it extraordinarily odd that such a small town had that much work that required each listed contractor I called to turn me down. Still, it was a problem easily and readily solved. I remembered what the realtor had told me about the house being haunted and could only shake my head at the superstitions that seemed to continue, even in this current day and age. I chalked it up to the secluded location and the local people, many whose ancestors had been here for a couple hundred years. They were apparently stuck in a backwoods belief system, fostered by years of isolation. I let it go.

I had hired an outside contractor to make all the necessary improvements and told him what improvements I needed. For fun, I asked him if he believed in ghosts and he guffawed for five minutes, slapping his thighs as though I had told the funniest joke he had ever heard. I giggled myself, quite pleased he could see the humor in the question. For extra money including a gas reimbursement, he would check the roof, clean the chimney, fix the plumbing, and wash the brown siding outside. All the inside rooms needed only minor repairs and painted in a washable white. I did not need much and I was not overly meticulous about most things of that sort, and it would make it simpler for me to keep clean. He also arranged for my electric service to be connected, the telephone installed and mounted a television antenna on the side of the chimney.

When the day to move into my new acquisition came, my best friend Merry helped me move what few belongings I had. I drove down in my new Honda towing a U-Haul trailer and Merry followed in her pickup truck, loaded with my few pieces of furniture. She had brought her son Steven with us and between the two of them, soon had my bed put together, the kitchen sorted out, the groceries we had bought on the way installed in the new refrigerator, freezer, and in the cupboards. My desk was set up in the second, smaller bedroom of the two available and they soon had my computer, printer and fax machine installed and working. The living room only consisted of a small sofa and one rocking chair, neither of which I could yet get myself into without help, and a small television. I had borrowed a wheelchair to sit in since it was easier to roll over to the television to change the channels. The TV was so old it did not require a remote and Merry thought it hilarious. I seldom watched, but I did enjoy the news now and then.

With all the moving completed, Merry fixed sandwiches and all of us sat down at the kitchen table. She worriedly asked, "Are you sure you will be ok here by yourself?"

"I don't see why not, Merry. Everything I need is here and there is food enough for a month. You will be down in two weeks for a weekend visit, so yes, I should be fine." I grinned back at her.

"Well, I haven't felt right about this place since we arrived here and it does not have anything to do with your ghost story about it being haunted. There is something here." She replied, looking around at the ceiling and walls.

"Now, Merry, you know I have no interest in ghosts, even if I believed in them. Somehow, I do not think they would be interested in me, either. You are such a worrywart." I said laughingly.

"Still, I think you should be careful. If anything happens, you make sure you call me right away. I am only an hour away and I can be here pretty darned quickly if you need me." Looking at me oddly, she continued. "I am not sure ghosts are the problem here."

Watching Merry and Steven leave that evening did make me feel a bit lonely, but I knew that was because I would miss her. We had been best friends for decades and, until now, had always lived next door to each other. It had been a very chaotic, exhausting day and it was not long before I had taken a quick shower and went straight to bed. Not even trying to read a new novel could keep me awake and I fell asleep with my finger still stuck in the first few pages.

Chapter Three

The next morning, I was jolted wide-awake by a single sliver of bright sunshine coming through the solitary window in my room and straight into my eyes. Making a mental note to close the curtains that evening, I looked around at my new bedroom. I think at one time that there had been two windows, but the other spot, now occupied by a built-in cupboard, received very little light. I imagined the other people kept their personal belongings in there. I did take a moment to wonder what had happened to them, but decided maybe that they had just made an impromptu decision to leave without telling anyone. I know how family can sometimes be a pain in the ass having an even dozen of siblings myself. Still, it was strange they would disappear without someone knowing where they had gone.

After I clumped my way to the kitchen with the cane, I fixed myself some breakfast. Having a broken leg and partially healed ribs still made it difficult to reach anything, so I used my cane to pull the coffee canister off the cabinet shelf. One more thing I needed to remember - put things where I could reach them. After eating, I stacked my plate in the sink with the solitary frying pan and reluctantly decided it was time to get my "office" in order. Taking a cup of coffee with me, I settled into my chair and turned on the computer. Waiting for it to boot up, I straightened out the piles of papers Merry had stacked on my desk into smaller piles of correspondence, book notes, and bills. Noticing a piece of paper had apparently fallen on the floor I carefully reached over and picked it up.

Written on it were the words, "You are going to die in this house!"

Startled, I dropped the paper on the top of the desk and pushed myself away. Why would someone leave me a note like this? Was someone trying to scare me? I laughed and figured Steven had probably left it to give me a scare since he was really into practical jokes. Crumbling the note into a ball, I threw it into the trashcan and proceeded to work.

A few hours later, I finally set up straight, grimacing at the pain that still radiated from my ribs. I had managed to make some progress on the book, but it was time for a break. Deciding I needed a pain pill, I headed to the bathroom where Merry had put all of my medications.

The cabinet was one of the older ones with the glass in the door itself and latched with an eyehook. Opening it, I fumbled around all the prescription bottles until I found the one I wanted, and closed the door. Pulling out one of the little paper cups from the dispenser on the wall, I ran some water and swallowed the pill. Looking at my face, I reached for a washcloth and turned the faucet on, letting it run until the water was as hot as I could stand it. Wetting the cloth, I wiped off my face, holding the washcloth in place until it had cooled off. As I started to do it again, I could see words written in the steam-covered glass.

"I warned you! You will die soon."

More than a little shook up, I backed away from the mirror. Listening carefully, I could not hear anyone in the little house. I did not know if someone had snuck in while I was in my office, if the message on the mirror had been left the day before, or even before I moved in. Even so, I knew not even Steven would go this far for a joke.

I had a sudden feeling that I was not alone and that someone was watching from nearby. Whether it was from inside the house or out, I carefully checked each of the rooms and found nothing or no one. Standing in the living room looking out the front window, I wondered if someone was out there. I could almost feel eyes watching me and I involuntarily shuddered.

Never knowingly subjected to the attentions of a possible stalker before, that had been the least of my worries, and one I had never thought about being a concern. Nevertheless I now had a hunch it might be important. I tried to remember if any of the fan letters I had received might be from someone who did not like what I had written.

I decided that maybe I should call someone in the local law enforcement and debated if there even an office in Buckhannon. Since the town only had a couple thousand people, it was possible I would have to call the State Police. One thing was for certain, if this was not some kind of joke, someone was clearly not happy that I had moved in.

I hobbled my way back to my office and found the phonebook. Surprised, I found a number for the town police station and gave them a call. There was even a dispatcher and when she asked what I needed, I told her my name and where I lived. I said I thought someone had been in my house. Quiet reigned at the other end of the phone line for a moment, but she told me she would send someone out to check around the house.

Minutes later, I could see flashing color coming up my driveway, the red and blue lights bouncing off the trees and shrubbery. By the time I made it out to the front porch, I could hear a car door slam and the crunching of boots in the driveway. As the officer approached, he tipped his hat at me.

"I received a call that you might have a prowler, ma'am." As he made that statement, he was looking around the yard and up at the windows in the house. "I am Officer Dan Kissel from the Buckhannon Police Department."

"I am not sure." I replied. "But it seems someone has been in the house and left me a couple of notes, including one on my bathroom mirror."

I led him in the house and gave him the note I had dug back out of my wastebasket. He read it without saying anything and we went to the bathroom. I told him how I had come in to wash my face and that the steam and caused the message to show up. Running the water again as hot as it would go, we waited for the steam to cover the glass. Only, now there was no message there. Someone had wiped the mirror clean and you could still see the swipe marks.

"Apparently, there is someone still around," Officer Kissel muttered, drawing his gun. He slowly checked each room in the house, looking in every closet and even in the kitchen cupboards. He went outside, leaving me standing in the kitchen doorway, and walked around the house itself. I slammed the door shut, locked it, and hurried back to the front of the house.

The door was still open from the officer coming in and only the screen door remained closed with the latch firmly in place. As I waited for Officer Kissel to reach the front door, I hurriedly locked all the windows in the house. I was positive there was still someone out there and I felt a twinge of fear of being left there alone. I would have to call Merry and have her come down and stay with me a few days until I found out what was going on.

Suddenly, Officer Kissel came around the side of the house. I unlocked the door and stepped outside to see what he had found. Instead of coming back to where I was standing, he walked swiftly to his car, got in and spun tires leaving the driveway. Puzzled at this, I swiftly went back inside and locked my door. Leaning against it, I wondered why he had done that. It made no sense; then I thought, perhaps he had gotten another emergency call and had to leave quickly. I could only assume he had found nothing. Still, I had the feeling there was still someone - or something - out there watching the house.

Chapter Four

I almost ran to my office to call Merry. As I stood there listening to her phone ringing, I kept trying to think who would want to threaten me. It was a bit disconcerting to think I had made an enemy that seemed intent on terrorizing me, if nothing else. Yes, I admit it. I was terrified.

"Hi!" said Merry, as she finally picked up her phone. "Sorry, I was out on the beach with the Exalted One," she said laughingly.

"Merry. I think there is a problem here. I think my house is either haunted or someone has been in here." I told her about calling the local police but that he had apparently not found anything.

There was silence on the other end. I could see Merry in my mind thinking about what she had said before she had left the day before.

"Ok. I am on my way. I will be there early in the morning. I knew something was going to happen." I heard Merry call something out to another person, then she said, "I am not going to bring Steven with me this time. I think I know someone else who might be able to help us better."

Relieved to hear Merry say "us" made me feel marginally better; at least, I would not be here by myself.

"Who would that be, Merry?"

Instead of answering my question, she said, "Look, I have to do some things and make some calls in a flash! I will call you back when I am almost there." She hung up. I could only shake my head since I had no idea what she had in mind or what she could do. I just wanted her as soon as she could do so.

On the other hand, Merry did have a great many friends and some of them were quite strange. I wondered whom she had in mind. One thing was for certain, I knew it was going to be interesting, no matter what else was going on. Already, I felt safer, but I still had to get through the night. I double-checked all the locks on the windows and doors and when I went to my bedroom, I pushed a dresser against the door. Still, I knew I wouldn't sleep. I put my cellphone on the nightstand next to me so I would hear Merry when she called. As I lay in my bed, I watched the shadows in my room, starting at every noise and creak. Around daylight, I finally dozed off.

Chapter Five

The next morning, I was startled wide-awake by thunderous pounding on the front door. I grabbed the cellphone and saw where Merry had tried to call me three times. I had slept through each one. Grabbing my robe, I hobbled to the door, where I could see Merry standing outside shaking a fist at me. Raising my eyes brows, I hurried as fast as I could to the front door. Opening the door, she rushed into the house.

"You had me frantic with worry! Merry almost screamed at me. When you didn't answer the phone, I thought something had happened. It's a wonder I didn't get stopped by a cop in the last 100 miles!"

Yes. Merry was steamed! I almost giggled in spite of my fear.

"What? You are going to laugh at me after what I found out?"

Hearing the serious tone in her voice, I stifled the giggle.

"What happened? What did you find?" I almost gasped out the last word.

"First, I need a cup of Java - then we will talk about this", Merry said as she hurriedly walked to the kitchen. It is a good thing I have friends in high places!"

I quickly fixed coffee and set a cup in front of Merry. I was almost afraid to find out what she knew.

"Ahhhh, I needed this." Merry took a long gulp and sat the cup down. "Boy, I did not even stop anywhere so I could get here as fast as possible."

"Ok, Merry. What is going on? Did you find out this place is actually haunted? Am I dealing with ghosts here?"

"Worse", she said. Much worse. When you called me last night, I was talking to a friend of mine about the chatroom. I know you haven't been on the past few weeks, so you don't know about the threats someone was making about you. Anyway, I starting saving some of the chat logs when I realized that one of the roomies was talking about her sister's house being sold to a writer. When she said it was in West Virginia, I started to pay closer attention.

Taking my hand, Merry looked at me with a very strange look. So strange, that the hair was standing up on the back of my neck.

"Ok, spill it, Merry. Who was it? What did they say?"

Remember the roomie who kept claiming she had killed two people; however, everyone just thought she was a nut and didn't pay her much mind? I think I know who it is. I think I know what happened."

"Happened? Happened to whom, Merry?"

"The people who disappeared from here, I think I know who they are. I know they are dead, really for real dead."

All I could do at that moment was to remain sitting in my chair, staring at my friend. My mind was going a mile a minute, but I just could not figure out how a roomie in a chatroom in Connecticut had anything to do with my house, or with the missing people.

Merry continued, "My friend, the one I was talking to last night. His name is Brad Davis. He works for the F.B.I. He is one of their top investigators and we used to date a few years ago. It didn't go well, because I couldn't bear worrying about him being killed because of his job. And, well, we just decided to be friends instead. I called him and told him about this roomie. She calls herself The Black Rose. I think she is the sister of the woman who lived here. I think this Rose killed her sister and her husband."

I could feel my jaw dropping, thinking to myself how absurd I must look.

Finally, I spit out the words that had been stuck in my mind. "She must be here. She must be hiding in this house somewhere."

Merry shook her head. "I do not think she would stay in the house. Brad called your local police here, and the officer he spoke with, Officer Kissel, I think. He told Brad he had been doing some investigation on his own. Kissel told him that the woman who was killed did have a sister, but she had left town long before they disappeared. Her name was Rose Hearst."

"Why would she do that? Why would she kill her own sister? It doesn't make sense, especially if she was not living in the area."

Merry sat there, thinking. "I believe what happened is when the sister married, it was to someone who had been Rose's boyfriend. She has posted several times that if anyone messed with her, she got even and they got dead. She probably was angry and just bided her time. So she left town, but I think she kept a close ear on what was going on. When she found out they had bought this house, it drove her over the edge. Her sister had everything Rose wanted, including her husband. She must have driven down here one night and killed them."

"Then where are they, Merry? She couldn't just make them disappear!" Even as I said it, I knew how ridiculous that sounded. After all, they had vanished years ago. "Where are the bodies? Where is Rose?"

"Not sure, said Merry. Nevertheless, Brad is on his way here with a team of people. They want us to go stay somewhere else tonight because he may not be able to get here until tomorrow."

"Ok. Then let me get a few things together and we can leave. I do not want to spend another night here. If Rose is around....." I left the thought hang in mid air.

"Fine, she said. I will make sure everything is locked up and ready to go."

I hobbled as fast as I could get my feet to shuffle to my room, furiously grabbing clothes and shoes and slipping on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. As I slammed everything into my suitcase and squished it shut, I heard Merry scream.

Chapter Six

I stumbled my way back to the kitchen, afraid of what I was going to find. No one was in the room, but I could see the back door had been opened. Going to the door, I called out Merry's name. No one answered. Stepping off the little landing, I could see marks in the grass and on the old sidewalk where someone had walked, the dew marking each step as a damp spot. I carefully walked towards an old ramshackle shed at the far end of the yard.

As I reached the door that was hanging by one hinge, Merry came bursting out into the open. Her hair was covered in spider webs and clumps of dust, but her eyes were burning bright with excitement.

"Come on! I need to show you something!" she said as she grabbed my arm and headed back through the door.

Reluctantly, I went with her, asking, "Merry, why did you scream?"

Turning her head to look at me, Merry replied. "Because I was sitting there and thought I saw someone outside. I didn't mean to scream, but when I got to the door, I didn't see anyone. Then I saw this shed. I don't remember seeing it the day we were here. Anyway, I decided to investigate and you won't believe what I found!"

Leading me to the back of the shed where the shadows were darkest, I could see where boxes had been pulled across the floor towards the light. There was also and old brocade like piece of carpet thrown over a pile of junk in the corner. Pieces of rope, old tools, the tattered edges of what must have been car manuals were all piled up as though someone had tossed them into the heap indiscriminately. The boxes must have been sitting on the rug for years because where they had been sitting, looked almost like new wood.

"I moved the boxes so I could look through them. When I had pulled a few of them out of the corner, I saw the carpet, so I pulled it up in case anything was under it. I found this, she said pointing at the corner. On the floor, I could see the outline of a door and a small pull ring recessed in the top.

Merry continued, "I wonder what it is for?" Leaning over, she pulled at the ring, but it took several tugs before the wooden cover came up. Laying it back against the wall, we both stared at the hole. A set of stairs led down into the dark.

Backing up, I told Merry, "There is no way I am going down there!"

Merry grinned, "But I will. I have to see what is down there."

Dashing back to the house, Merry soon returned with a flashlight. Crouching down, she carefully placed a foot on the top step. She bounced it up and down and the step seemed solid. Sitting down, she slid into the hole, testing each step as she made her way down. Flashing the light around once she reached the bottom, she called up, and "It's huge down here. I can't see the end of it." Merry started walking away from the staircase, her steps making an echoing sound. "It looks empty, but I'm going to check it out."

I yelled back down, "Merry! Be careful! Don't go too far!"

I could hear her saying something back to me, but her voice sounded as though she was a distance away and I could not make out what she said.

The next several minutes found me pacing back and forth, calling down the stairs each time I reached the opening in the floor. Merry did not answer. Suddenly, I heard her scream again.

"Merry! Merry!" I screamed into the hole. "Merry, where are you?" Long silent moments passed, and then all of a sudden, I could see the flashlight beam bouncing off the steps.

I breathed a sigh of relief, as I watched the light getting closer. I leaned up against the wall closing my eyes and feeling as though my legs wouldn't be able to hold me up much longer. I heard the sound of the steps creaking as Merry came back up the steps. Opening my eyes, I started to say, "Merr..." Instead of my best friend, there stood a short, thin, dark haired woman. As if that wasn't shocking enough, my heart fell to my stomach as I realized the gun in her hand pointed directly at me.

Waving the gun around, the woman spoke, almost in a whisper. "Get yer ass down these steps, now." I just stood there and stared, unable to comprehend what she said. Again, she repeated, "I told ya, get yer ass down these steps before I shoot you now."

"Who...who are you?" I stammered, even though I knew it had to be Rose Hearst, the one Merry believed had killed her own sister.

"Oh, you know who I am. I heard yer friend tell you this morning when I was standing by the kitchen window. You know exactly who I am."

Chapter Seven

I slowly moved toward the opening to the stairs. Spying a glass brick on a shelf behind the woman, I considered the possibility of grabbing it and smashing it against her head before she realized what I was doing. Since she was standing right in front of the hole, I started to edge to her right. Wondering how I could distract her for a moment, I stumbled, my leg giving out from under me. I reached for the shelf to try to break my fall. I felt the whisper of the bullet as it passed by my ear. The next moment she was standing next to me, pushing the muzzle of the gun into my side. At the same time, I grabbed the brick and brought it down on the side of her face. She staggered away and I slammed the glass on top of her head hard enough that splinters of glass showered the floor around her as the glass brick disintegrated. She slowly collapsed into a pile.

Grabbing pieces of rope, I quickly tied the woman up not caring how tight I pulled the knots. Now that she was down, she wasn't going to get another chance. I knew I had to go into that crypt like hole and find out what happened to Merry. I prayed that she was still alive because that woman evidently had planned on killing both of us.

Once I was convinced she couldn't get loose, I picked up the flashlight from where it had rolled when she fell. I clicked the button and the light came on, though the light seemed to be rather weak. Holding my side where I had apparently pulled the muscles around my ribs, I carefully lowered myself to the floor, letting my leg cast slide on to the first step of the stairway. With my cane held out in front of me, I inched myself around until I was finally facing forward, I went down the steps on my butt, one-step at a time. Reaching the bottom, I tried to catch my breath while I shined the light around. I could see tracks in the dirt floor leading off into the black dark. By turning myself sideways, I was able to use the bottom step to push myself into a standing position.

Using my cane much as a blind person would do, I carefully tapped the floor in front of me as I headed in the directions of the footsteps. The room was not square, as it first seemed; instead, it slowly drifted to the right in a slow winding curve. I could see other rooms that led off either side, but I didn't stop to look since the tracks on the floor continued to go forward.

The sides of the room had narrowed to where I was actually walking in a tunnel now. Judging by how long I had been walking, this part must be a long way from the house. Ahead of me, I suddenly could see an electric light hanging on a nail on an old half-rotten wooden support post. A thought briefly went through my mind and I wondered how electric would be on down here? What appeared to be another room led off to my left and the footprints turned in that direction. Another tunnel was ahead of me, but I could tell that it dead-ended a short distance away.

Suddenly, the beam lit up something that looked like a pile of wet animal fur. I gasped as I realized it was Merry's red hair and it was soaked in blood. As quickly as I could, I kneeled down and turned Merry's face to me. As I checked her pulse, I was relieved to see she was still alive. A large gash had been sliced across the top of her head and the blood had run freely. I took off my tee shirt and wrapped it around the top of her head. Merry began to move a little bit that quickly turned into a weak struggle as she tried to sit up. I grabbed her shoulders and helped her into a sitting position.

"What happened....? She started to say. "I came into this room and found - Oh My God, I found them!" She turned her head and stared at me. "I found them. I found what happened to that couple. They're here. Help me stand up."

As Merry slowly got to her feet, she took the flashlight from me and started walking towards the back of the tunnel. A small alcove had been carved out of the tunnel wall and the pile of dirt next to it looked fresh. Stooping down, she shined the light into the opening. There, in front of us, were two skeletons, each seemingly to be holding on to the other one. Belatedly, I saw the remains of old rope wound around the bones several times.

"She didn't shoot them. She brought them down here and tied them up so they couldn't move. Then she walled them in."

As we started back to the shed, lights suddenly appeared in front of us. I raised my cane to use as a weapon, thinking the woman had gotten loose. However, the voice that rang out wasn't her voice. A booming deep voice called out, "Merry?"

Merry cried out, "Brad!" and in the next moment, he was holding her in his arms. One of the guys with him handed his shirt to me so I could cover up. I had not noticed how hard I was shaking until that moment.

Chapter Eight

Later that afternoon, after the woman, who turned out to be Rose Hearst was carted away to Buckhannon's local jail for the night, the story had finally been figured out. Merry had been taken to the Buckhannon Memorial Hospital and had six stitches put in her scalp. Brad stayed by her side the entire time. I could tell by the way that they looked at each other that their connection was still strong. I had a hunch he would be sticking around now. Merry would just have to learn how not to worry so much.

Even so, Merry had been right about Rose Heart. She was also dead on the money (no pun intended) about how and why Rose had murdered her sister and brother in law. Later, she would confess and tell how her sister had called and said she was pregnant and that drove Rose over the edge. She had begun to stalk them, which led to the belief of her sister that the house was haunted after finding things moved in the house or things missing.

After killing them, she had returned to Connecticut where she had a job in a sleep center. Then, she had been caught fondling sleeping patients and had been fired. When she couldn't get another job, she holed up in her apartment and started to live online in the chatroom. She was The Black Rose.

When she realized that someone had bought her sister's house, she was afraid the bodies would be found. She had rushed back and was working on taking the bones out of the tunnel and dumping them in the river. She had left the notes for me and had watched as Merry had shown up. She had gone to a neighboring farm where, in the barn, the other end of the tunnel came out. The owner had once used that end of it for a root cellar and that's why the electric was down there. Rose had run drop cords so she would have light to dig out the alcove where her family had been buried alive.

When she arrived, we were already there and she recognized me. The fact that I was a writer only added to her rage. She was also the one who had hit me when I was getting into my car. She had figured out through chatting that I was writing a story about how people acted in the chatroom. She was often the one bashing other roomies and she didn't appreciate it when I would point those actions out. The hit and run was simply to get revenge. It was amazing how those chats could cause people to become so enraged that they would resort to violence.

Although it would probably take several years while she exhausted her appeals, we knew she would end up being the dead Black Rose when she was executed for killing her family. I would finish my third book about conflicts between roomies online. Only now, I would write a forth book about how violence in an Internet chatroom can follow you home.