Chapter 28

The work in the house was finished in what must have been record time. Energized by their earlier visit, everyone worked double time to get things finished. Tommy was the only somber one in the group as he listened to the chatter from the other three. He thought about the dream about Malcolm from the night prior but was hesitant to bring it up. He didn’t want to upset Hayden, and he felt that it was more of a premonition than anything.

He had managed to duck at precisely the right moment, dodging bullets and prevented his soldiers from taking another step when it would have resulted in the squad being blown to bits from a mine that had been set. He always considered himself just lucky, but Michelle’s suggestion that he was a medium made him wonder. He didn’t like the feeling in the air despite the others’ excitement. It felt heavy, like something was going to happen. He hoped the researchers would be careful, and made a mental note to pay attention to their movements out on the lake. If something this sinister was in operation here, there might be little they could do to stop it.

He kept a close eye on the trio of workers as they moved furniture in places where Hayden directed. Before too long, all the pictures that needed to be hung on the walls were, and all the drop cloths and plastic sheets had been gathered and rolled up to be placed in storage.

The house looked amazing, Tommy admitted to himself. The lighting was perfect, and the colors Hayden had chosen matched the furniture beautifully. He really had a good eye and most certainly knew what he was doing. The three of them had all gathered again on the porch to smoke and talk excitedly about what was going on. Tommy didn’t join them.

Instead, since he felt his lack of enthusiasm may bring them down, he turned his attention to the kitchen where he began to prepare dinner. As he pulled out the groceries he had bought and set them on the counter, emptying bags, and discarding them, he thought about his time in Afghanistan. The close calls that were easily avoided seemed circumstantial at the time. Where would he be right now if he wasn’t gifted? Should he feel guilty about it? That he came back when others didn’t?

He brushed those thoughts away for a moment and focused on Hayden, who he could see laughing on the porch with the ladies. They were drinking glasses of red wine and having a good time; Tommy liked to see it. Hayden’s face was beautiful, and when Tommy looked at him, the ache in his chest became almost overpowering. The buzzing in his head felt like a high, and it was Hayden’s lips that had intoxicated him. How am I to protect him if I am falling in love with him? Isn’t that what’s happening here? Aren’t I putting his life at risk? Malcolm said I would have to protect him now, but how can I do that if I am blinded by the way I feel about him.

The storm that had been gathering in his thoughts picked up a few darker clouds. He didn’t want to hurt Hayden. God, he didn’t want to hurt him at all. He sighed aloud, unsure of what the next step was, and simply continued to cook.

Outside on the porch, Terri was looking much better. The wine she was drinking brought color to her cheeks and a bit of humor along with it. Amanda talked on and on about different events, urban legends she had heard about various hauntings.

“Think about it! In almost every culture in the world, there are stories of the paranormal. Even in the modern day, we find ourselves excited and afraid of the unknown. There are countless stories of hauntings written in books and on television, about those who have had to deal with them in one way or another. Some of them are documented cases. Take real estate law, for instance—did you know that in most states, a realtor must inform a potential buyer if the house is said to be haunted?”

“Really?” Hayden asked.

Amanda nodded vigorously, and Terri interjected. “In Stambovsky vs. Ackley, a woman who had publicized in several news outlets that her house was haunted, did not, upon selling the property, disclose that information to the buyer. The New York state supreme court told the buyer that he should have done better research in the case, citing caveat emptor, but the appeals court overturned their decision and sided with the purchaser. It was a pretty popular case when it came out. Legal scholars were baffled, but I can see the logic in it.”

“Amityville was another case in New York,” Amanda said. “Although no one made a legal issue out of it. The family moved in and turned around and moved right back out, leaving everything behind. It’s all so, deliciously spooky!” Amanda finished dramatically. Terri laughed.

“I remember the Stambovsky case from law school,” Hayden said, nodding his head. “But all of this is different from a simple haunted house, don’t you think? I mean, this is a grander scale.”

“There are all types of hauntings. You have the traditional haunting, which some believe is a reenactment of events played repeatedly. What people witness is this recorded event because the spirits do not interact with the people. Then there are poltergeists, which is German for ‘noisy ghost’—these interact with people, throw things, open doors, hide possessions, and sometimes harass people.” The other two stared at Amanda, whose eyes had grown impossibly wide. She shrugged. “I love ghost stories, so sue me.”

“Well, the recorded variety won’t be what we’re dealing with here,” Hayden said. “I mean, poltergeists have a Hollywood stigma, thanks to the story about the little girl getting eaten by her closet and that damn clown. I hated that clown, and I will for the rest of my life. I’ve never considered much of what happens when we die. Mainly because of Malcolm, I’ve avoided the subject. But now, the whole town seems to be affected by this. Do you think it’s possible that something like a curse is coming to fruition?”

Terri leaned forward and said, “I prosecuted this case ten years ago, and I’ll never forget it. This dude was on trial for murdering his girlfriend. We had him dead to rights. But the defense was claiming that he was mentally impaired and suffered from schizophrenia. Now, you know how hard insanity cases can be. The burden of proof is almost too high. Anyway, during the case, the guy was so smooth and quiet and disarming, I thought I was losing my case to the jury. He was visibly upset about the death of his girlfriend. I tried everything I could to pump him and get a reaction. Nothing!

“One day, during closing, I was up before the jury giving them my spiel when a friend of mine, a priest, slipped into the room. I didn’t even notice him coming in—you know how it gets when you’re up there.”

Hayden nodded and leaned forward, listening intently.

“Well, suddenly this dude freaks. He starts sweating, shaking, and mumbling incoherently. The judge asked if he was okay, and the defense attorney said everything should be fine, that he had taken his medication and everything. By this time, I spotted Father Tom, and he nodded at me and stood up. He made the sign of the cross in the air before him. No one saw him do it but the jury, the judge, and myself. The table the dude was sitting at, I swear to God, flipped over on itself and scooted along the floor. The guy spun around in his seat and started screaming at the priest…in Latin.

“He only calmed down when Father Tom was asked by the judge to leave. He went right back to normal and, as a matter of fact, was shocked by what he’d done. We all were. But I swear, the facial features of that man changed—his eye color, jawline, cheekbones—everything was different. I’ll never forget that case as long as I live.” She lit another cigarette.

“What happened to the guy?” Amanda asked.

Terri exhaled the bluish-gray smoke and looked out onto the lake. “He hung himself with a bed sheet three months later. The pipe that he did it on was impossibly high. There was no way humanly possible he could have gotten up there to do it. I’ll tell you what, it makes you look at insanity cases a whole lot closer,” she said wistfully.

“Jesus. What did Father Tom say?” Hayden asked.

“He was visibly shaken by the whole thing. I think that was the first and only case of demonic possession he had ever witnessed. The Vatican still has, to this day, exorcists trained in their field. Each arch diocese has at least one.”

“So, our concrete world isn’t so concrete, is it?” Hayden said, dumbfounded.

“Bingo.” She pointed her finger at him and winked. They all finished up their conversation and walked back into the house.

The smells coming out of the kitchen made Hayden’s mouth water and his stomach rumble. He followed the scent to its source and found Tommy leaned back on the kitchen sink drinking a beer and brooding. The ladies excused themselves to go and get cleaned up, Hayden needed to as well; he was in the clothes he’d worn yesterday, and quiet honestly, he was worried about smelling funny, so he stood a few steps away from Tommy.

“What is it?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged and thumbed at the label on his beer, looking downward.

Hayden walked closer to him and put his hand on his cheek. “Don’t make me waterboard you,” Hayden threatened.

Tommy snickered and put his beer down, wrapping his arms around Hayden’s waist and drawing him closer.

“No, no, no. I stink,” Hayden said, trying to pull away, but Tommy made easy work of his resistance, his arms like iron wrapped around him.

“So, what? So do I. We’re both wearing the same clothes from yesterday. What were you all talking about out there?”

“Just ghost stories. Seemed appropriate.”

“What’s their take on the whole thing?” Tommy asked.

“Amanda is excited over the romantic notion of there being a haunting, and I have to admit, I’m fascinated too. But Terri is probably the most professional person I have ever met in my life. I mean, she can let her hair down just like anyone, but when she’s a lawyer, she is a lawyer and a highly respected one at that. I wouldn’t be surprised if she isn’t appointed to the bench soon. But even she is taken aback by this and isn’t so cemented into the physical realm that she dismisses the impossible.”

He recounted the story that she told them outside about the possessed man. Tommy listened, fascinated by the whole thing. “That’s insane. I’ve witnessed a lot weird things—in different parts of the world, cultures have witchdoctors and shamans and religious leaders and God knows what else. There was this woman in Nairobi who followed me around for days. She would talk to me in some foreign tongue and I couldn’t understand a word. Our interpreter said that she thought I was a healer, like her. She said she could sense that I had special abilities, like a seer or something. I disregarded it completely, was sort of embarrassed by the whole ordeal, and the guys all laughed but now, I am not so sure.” He laughed dismissively.

“Well, I don’t know about any special powers you may possess,” Hayden said. “But I do think your pretty special.”

Tommy’s eyes went from hardened humor to a much softer expression. “You do?”

“Yeah. I do,” Hayden said, kissing him on the nose. “What’s for dinner?”

“Steak stir fry.”

“That’s my favorite!” Terri said, walking back into the kitchen with a wicked smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. “Sorry, I forgot my cell. I’ll just run out and get it really quick. Don’t let me interrupt anything.” She snickered as she ran out onto the deck and ran back in.

Hayden laughed, stepping back from Tommy’s arms, and made to go shower himself. Tommy grabbed his hand and pulled him back and laid a kiss right on his lips.

Hayden leaned back. “What’s that for?”

“For telling me I’m special.”

Hayden searched Tommy’s eyes and saw something that looked hopeful and longing there. Certainly, he felt it in his arms, the warmth of him, and the desire for closeness. To be truthful, it felt great. He felt like a plant that had been kept in the closet for too long, desiring sunlight.

“You’re special, Tommy. You are. Don’t forget that. I’m going to go shower now, I’ll be down for dinner.” Hayden turned away and walked out of the room.

Trudging up the stairs, he noticed the sun was setting as he glanced out of the window. The truck that had been there earlier was now returning with a boat trailer attached. It navigated the driveway and drove past the point where Hayden could see. He turned and walked his way into his bathroom, grabbing a pair of jeans, a nice shirt, and a pair of cute underwear that hugged him in the right places. He looked at himself in the mirror, checking out what he saw and sighed. He walked into the bathroom turned on the hot water, and climbed in.

* * * * * * * *

Her headache was getting worse. Since noon, when she closed her office, she’d stumbled through the streets of Maplewood clutching her stomach. The pain in her head brought waves of nausea that nearly doubled her over. Lights, noises, smells—everything distressed her senses and seemed to overwhelm her. Once home, she staggered into the house, shutting the door behind her.

It was the only home she’d ever known. After her parents’ deaths, she went on to keep this place as her own. Most things had never changed, and as she walked through the living room, she passed the chair that her dad had sat in, smoking his pipe.

She wound her way through the piles of clutter, the stacks of magazines, and boxes that she always meant to go through but never got around to it. The sun was shining outside but you couldn’t tell from the blackout curtains she had. When the headaches started a few months ago, she’d replace the lace curtains. Now she was more thankful than ever for the darkness as she made her way, from memory, through the house to the bathroom where her relief was waiting. She opened the mirror cabinet and found her bottle of painkillers—her secret vice and crutch. She popped two of them with a small drink of water and put the bottle back. Leaning against the sink, she stared into her old eyes, wondering what was happening between her ears that caused the pain that she was feeling, fearing the worst.

Her doctor had an appointment set up for her this week to run some blood tests. At first, she had been afraid, but now, she didn’t care. She had to find a way to stop the pain. She left the bathroom and walked back into the dining room, or what should have been the dining room. She had converted it to a sitting room when the table got too overrun with stuff from work. The boxes, the envelopes, the mail that was addressed to her that she didn’t bother reading knowing it was nothing but bills. There were plenty of those, from her late-night shopping extravaganzas on The Home Shopping Network, buying gifts and trinkets for friends she would never have.

The truth of the matter was, she was alone and bitterly so. She had run off anyone who ever cared about her or ever tried. She hid behind things like false standards and fake sentiments. She used to tell herself that it was better that they go because, “they weren’t good for her.” Her newest and most treasured one to chase away the ghosts of memories of people she cared about was to say, “They were too toxic for me.” In other words, she cared about them so much she didn’t know how to handle it, so she ran them off.

But now, she would have anything for a knock at the door or for the phone to ring for other things than deliveries and debt collectors. The only one who bothered to check up on her was Judy, but even she would be gone soon. Rose would eventually run her off. Sure, other women hung out with her when she was at the mail room, but they only wanted favors; they really didn’t like her. She was just the one with all the dirt on everyone so she could manipulate them. But that had come at a high price.

Grabbing the afghan from the back of the couch, she lay down and closed her eyes from the pain. It rolled in waves like the ocean and pulsed beneath her eyes. Soon, the medication would kick in and dull the pain enough for her to sleep, though she hated to sleep as of recently; she dreaded it, but the headaches wore her body out so badly she had no other choice. She knew what she would find once she left the physical world for the unconscious one. She would find her.

It was always the same. The dreams were always the same. She would be walking down the lake shore, fear causing each trembling footstep to be shorter than the last. It was nighttime, and the moon was high in the cloudless sky, the world was cast in its reflection of the sun. The wind would rustle the long grasses and run against her skin, but nothing would stop the fever she felt as she grew closer to her destination.

As she walked, the figure would draw closer and before she knew it, she was standing before the woman. Her dark raven hair and dark eyes were contrasted against the pale skin of her face. She was beautiful, but she made Rose very afraid. She was dangerous, evil, and so enticing at the same time. She whispered about things that Rose always wanted to hear, and she found it hard to resist her. This time was no different.

She found herself in her dreams again and standing before the woman. She always smiled when Rose came to her, always greeted her warmly. But her smile was like a snake—beautiful to look at and with enough venom to instantly kill.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Rose said, daring the woman.

“Oh, I think you do have a choice. I think you secretly want to hear the things I tell you. The things that make you quiver inside, that warm the coldest places in your heart. Words that others won’t or can’t tell you because you won’t let them.” Her words were cruel, biting, and totally true.

“What do you want from me?” Rose asked, shaking.

“I just want to take care of you. Unlike the others, I do care for you. We are very similar, you and me. And I love you. I want to make sure you have everything you ever wanted. I can give those things to you, but you have to come to me.” She motioned with her fingers for Rose to step closer.

“No.” Rose shook her head and took a step back. She knew somewhere deep down inside of her that once she crossed the line and gave in, there would be no going back.

“Oh, come now, Rose. This town can be yours. The people in it can belong to you. You take care of me and I’ll give you what you have always wanted. Ultimate control over those who have left you alone and never bother to call on you. Why, right now you’re asleep on your couch in a house that hasn’t been filled with people since you were but a little girl.” Her cruelty was always laced with sugar. It brought bitter tears to Rose’s eyes.

“Leave me alone!” she cried out.

Veronica just tilted her head back and laughed. The warmth of her words melted into the bitter cold laugh of someone who had just triumphed over an enemy. “You will come. It’s a matter of time. And when you do, I’ll be waiting. Remember to meet me at the shore of the lake and I’ll give you everything you have ever wanted.”

With that, Rose woke up with start. She was shaking all over and sweating profusely. Her headache had receded into a dull roar in her brain, perfectly manageable and good enough that she could eat. So, she did, sitting in front of her television set, alone as usual, with nothing for company but those who graced the screen.

* * * * * * * *

Mrs. Hatch watched happily as the group of people consumed the dinner she had prepared. Mr. Hatch even broke out a bottle of Scotch for the adults. While they ate, everyone was in awe, listening to the graduate students talking about their various adventures while studying. Mrs. Hatch noticed that her daughter Melissa, who graced them for a rare evening meal on the weekend, listened intently. The wanderlust that a lot of teenagers who lived in Maplewood had not left her only child untouched. It was only a matter of time before Melissa, like so many others, would leave their small town for bigger cities and larger dreams. She and her husband had hoped that she would take over the family business and stay, but Mrs. Hatch couldn’t be disappointed. It wasn’t that long ago when she herself had been a girl filled with large hopes and larger dreams.

In addition to the researchers Michelle, Cassandra, and her husband Tony Diaz, the acting police chief, attended dinner along with their children. The stories and talk of paranormal things were kept hushed for the sake of the children. Yet earlier on in the day, when Tony walked in with both his and Michelle’s kids, whom he’d been watching while his wife was here, mentioned that Todd, their eldest child, woke up from a nap crying about a mean woman and the lake. It had set the two mothers on edge, and rightfully so. Whatever was happening in this small town was not leaving anyone untouched.

The stories changed from the younger students’ to Paul and David’s experiences; many of them made the diners laugh. Even Jake, who had been uncomfortable with Tony’s presence, brightened up and smiled at different points in the conversation. Cassandra and Michelle both had purposefully engaged him in reading the diaries and journals, and the graduate students had also escorted him through the house using their “ghost-hunting” equipment to figure out where there were high levels of electricity in the walls or something like that. For all the technology and technobabble they were using, all poor Mrs. Hatch could do was nod her head and marvel at how smart kids were these days.

Once the meal was finished, everyone got up to clean their own plates—something else that made Mrs. Hatch appreciative. Mr. Hatch poured glasses of Scotch for all the adults present. Some drank it straight; some on the rocks, and others mixed it with soda to take away the bitter taste of the alcohol. Robert and Tara wrangled the children into the living room to watch Disney movies. The children had, for the most part, entertained themselves during dinner. It was only occasionally, when they turned a little rambunctious that an occasional “hush” or “finish eating” was said to keep them in line.

The group altogether was a wonderful change to what Mrs. Hatch was used to; married couples coming in for a honeymoon and keeping to themselves usually made dinners boring and uneventful. But this was more like what she had hoped her kitchen would be—a din of noisy, well-fed, happy people.

Tara, the stunning Texas beauty, was the funniest of all of them, and also the most conscientious. She listened intently to everything that was said, and you could see her process the information in her head before she responded. Robert, who had noticed the same qualities about her, made sure to place himself next to her and follow wherever she went. They operated like a team, and Mrs. Hatch knew, even given the existential threat against happiness that was hovering over this town, they would take to a quiet place to discuss and do what youngsters usually did.

Once the children were gone, the conversation turned back to the events and the issues at hand. Audrey and Daniel, who would be staying with them at the B&B for the duration of the investigation, asked questions about how this could affect them and their son. Paul, the ring leader, couldn’t give them a solid answer but promised to do everything he could to help Jake out.

“So, you’re telling me that whatever killed Jessica is now after Jake?” Tony said.

Paul nodded his head. “Yes. It seems that whoever or whatever is killing people resents love. Now, I know you’re a police officer and I know that you’re treating this as a homicide, as well you should. But I do not believe that the perpetrator, if I may use police lingo, is corporeal, or physically here. And if they are, or if it is, then it’s operating on a plane of the physical world that we can’t measure or be a part of. As an academic, I’m held to a standard of peer review and a very strict scientific method, so I understand any…hesitations on your part to believe what it is we’re trying to tell you.”

“Well, I simply cannot have my people stop looking for a flesh-and-blood human being because all of you have a feeling that this is a ghost or a bogeyman. And Jake, if you know anything at all, now is the time to tell me, because in the future, this could all look like an elaborate hoax to keep you from being charged with the mur—” Tony was interrupted by Daniel, who stepped into the conversation.

“This is no hoax. Jake is my son, but he is also my client. Any questions related to this case need to come through me before you address him. He didn’t kill Jessica. Something else did, and I appreciate the political pressure you’re under to close this case, but closing it for the sake of getting it off the books is not justice.” Daniel put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. Audrey, too, had stiffened up a bit.

Mrs. Hatch, who had been watching Jake closely, noticed the blood drain from his face at the mention of Jessica’s name. Tony shook his head and sat back, putting his hand over his eyes.

“Mr. Owen, I don’t think your son did this. Honestly, I don’t, if that is any relief to you. Jake, I can’t imagine what you’re going through son, not for the world. Cassandra and I have talked about it, and there’s something to what you all are saying. Especially the nightmares. We’re having them too, and to be quite honest, I dread going to sleep. But if there is a real-life answer to this question, if there is someone out there who is responsible for the death of your girlfriend, Jake, we will find them. That is all I wanted to say.”

Jake spoke next. “It does make a difference. Thank you. I loved Jess…Jess…” He couldn’t even finish saying her name. His mom wrapped her arm around his shoulder as Paul and David looked on uncomfortably. Jake leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. It broke her heart.

Finally, Mrs. Hatch spoke up. “You poor kids have so much more to worry about than we did when we were young. Isn’t that right, Papa?”

Instead of answering her, he leaned patted the distressed boy on the knee. The young man looked up in grief. “Son, we have made a lot of advances in the world today. We can cure cancer and put a man on the moon. Nothing can be done to fix a broken heart but time. We’ll get you past this part, we promise. Here, have some of this.” He poured Jake a glass of liquor. “Let him drink this and put him to bed,” he instructed his parents.

Mrs. Hatch patted the hand of the man she had been married to for over twenty-five years. He never ceased to surprise her.

Cassandra and Michelle were not unaffected by the exchange. They, along with Mrs. Hatch, wiped away tears. Cassandra reached under the table and squeezed her husband’s hand. They’d had their differences in their marriage, but there wasn’t a time when she wasn’t prouder of him. She didn’t believe Jake was responsible at all; he’d just got caught up in an extraordinary situation brought on by a very selfish woman. Two selfish women, in fact, one recently deceased and one who died years ago.

“So, what’s the game plan for tomorrow?” Michelle asked.

Paul, who had been one of the few who was drinking his Scotch straight, set the empty glass down on the table. “Well, early tomorrow morning, we’re going to go out on the lake. I’ll be taking David, Tara, and Robert. David knows how to pilot a boat so, that’s good. Michelle is going to stay behind and go over the journals some more.”

“Count me in with that as well,” Cassandra said.

“I was going to ask you. Thank you.” Michelle smiled.

“What are we going to do with the kids?” Tony asked.

“Would you mind another day of diaper duty?” Cassandra asked her husband.

“Not at all. They keep themselves busy. I’d like to pay attention to them in case something strange happens again. As a matter of fact, Michelle, why don’t you let yours spend the night tonight?” he said, winking at her.

She tossed her napkin at him. Face burning, she gave a shy look over at Paul, who also looked a little red in the face. David was grinning broadly.

“That’s fine, Tony,” she said, looking at him with daggers in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Honey, walk me out? I have to load up the grocery getter with the munchkins,” Tony said, standing up and stretching. “Mrs. Hatch, thank you for the meal. It was amazing. Mr. Hatch, that Scotch is the best. Thank you for that.”

The older gentleman just nodded and smiled. “Any time, sir. Come back and see us again soon, now.”

“Let me grab my purse and I’ll just head home with you, babe. I’ll get the kids from the living room.” Cassandra elbowed her husband gently as she scooted past him and walked into the living room, calling to the horde of people under three foot tall.