In the Midnight Hour

by Katrina VanBuskirk

  “This is where I died,” Heather said, gesturing at the cabin. “I wanted release, but once Chloe and Lauren had started staying here with their parents, I changed my mind.”

  “Why’d you change your mind?” Remy said politely.

  “Their parents were friends of mine in school,” Heather said. “When they brought their babies up here, and I laid eyes on them, I declared that I was never going to leave their sides. If you’d seen Chloe and Lauren when they were babies, you would have said the same thing.”

  The other man – he looked a little older than she was, maybe 20 or 21 – came over to Sarae with his charming smile. Sarae melted slightly.

  “I’m Marcus Vincent,” he said, extending a hand. Sarae smiled and shook it. A strong hand, warm. Some guys liked to crush your hand in theirs. His was a firm grip, gentle, and he smiled into her eyes as if genuinely happy to meet her. “My friend over here is Remy Laveau.”

  “I’m Sarae Cervantes,” she said, instantly charmed. “And this is my owl, Zoe.” She lifted up her hair curtain to show her little screech owl tucked in next to her neck.

  Zoe sat up with a cheerful little “oop!”

  “Pleased to meet you. We’ve come from California at the behest of a ghost for this case.” Now Marcus’s eyes flickered with worry. “Remy and I left a really good business behind … can you tell me about the case here, and what’s going on?”

  Sarae looked up at the cabin. The sunglasses man and Heather were still talking. Let them.

  “So we have these two girls, Chloe and Lauren, that like to hang out here all the time,” she explained. “Heather watches over them. She’s the ghost, and she decided, you know, to be this helicopter parent to them? So I get called out here a lot whenever the girls need something. One time they had an assignment due that she evidently wanted me to finish for them?”

  “Seriously,” Marcus said.

  Sarae sighed. “Now Heather says the girls are missing. And this time, there’s a story to back it up.”

  The sunglasses dude – Remy – was staring at her as he talked to Heather. An expressionless face. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him for staring at her – though another part of her wanted to push him to the ground, crawl on top of him, and make him remove those sunglasses … and maybe some other items of clothing.

  She cleared her throat and looked back at Marcus. “So the girls have a friend, Haley. Heather said they were all going to run off, all three of them together, for a three-day weekend. Haley comes up here. All of Chloe and Lauren’s stuff was lying around the cabin, but they were gone. She texted them, she called them, she drove clear back to their houses.”

  “The girls were planning to run away,” Heather’s voice came floating up the hill to Sarae and Zoe. “That’s why they came up here for the three-day weekend, to get a head start before Monday came around and they were discovered to be missing.”

  “Do you know where they were running away to?” Marcus asked.

  “They were going to run away to Chicago for reasons I won’t go into,” said Heather, “but they are not there. They are still in this area someplace. Somebody has them and I don’t know who. And I need you to find them,” she said, practically salivating all over Remy.

  Sarae narrowed her eyes.

  “For a ghost who said she was worried about her girls, you sure don’t seem worried,” she said.

  And Heather turned around, her eyes bright red and flaming.

  I guess I’m going to die now, Sarae thought.

  Severed Body Parts

  Suddenly, Remy was standing between Heather and Sarae, facing Heather, and casually drawing something from his pocket.

  “Now, Heather,” Remy said, his voice smooth as bourbon, “you wouldn’t want to do anything you’ll regret, will you?”

  “Move aside,” she hissed like a nest of snakes.

  He held his hand aloft, his thumb and index finger pinched together. Between them, sparkling in the sun, was something that glittered in a gorgeous shade of dark blue. Sarae couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.

  “I can send you into the nether if you make a move toward her,” Remy said.

  “But ….”

  “Even the slightest move.”

  The flames died in Heather’s eyes. “But … the girls! Who will help them?”

  “I am sure we can find the girls without your help.” The blue powder glittered in his fingers. Remy’s face remained expressionless. “So if you do anything to her, I’ll send you into the void. The nether. Whatever you choose to call it.”

  “How dare you say that?” Heather said. “You can’t do anything without me.” She spun and shot away across the lawn, vanishing into the cabin with a flounce.

  “Ah,” Sarae said. “Hear that?” She cupped her hand behind her ear, making a show of listening. “Silence. What a beautiful sound.”

  Remy put the powder back into the velvet bag, carefully closed it, and gently set it in his pocket. That done, his mirrored eyes turned to Sarae.

  She saw two reflections of herself in his eyes, both looking warily back at her. She hadn’t realized she was looking at him with suspicion.

  “Hi!” she said, but now she sounded fake. Shit.

  “I’m Remy Laveau,” he said, still smooth, and accepted her hand.

  “I’m Sarae Cervantes,” she replied. “I like it when Heather doesn’t talk.”

  She looked into his eyes, but her mirrored images were looking snarky. Christ. Instead, she looked at his lips. Full and glossy. A trace of five o’clock shadow on his face. She could feel warmth coming off his body. She longed to ask him to take her back into his RV and let him devour her.

  Her heartbeat picked up and her hand tightened on his.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Remy said cordially.

  “But you two could certainly talk,” Sarae quickly added, looking over at Marcus, who was rocking back on his heels, his hands in his pockets. Marcus grinned.

  Just then, to ruin the moment, Heather came drifting back out of the cabin, talking to them as if she’d never left. Damn.

  “You know the strangest thing about this case?” Heather asked them, drifting back into their circle.

  “How about you tell me,” Remy said from behind his sunglasses, crossing his arms.

  Heather puffed up slightly. “Chloe’s stepdad arrived several hours after the girls were here, and he took some of their things,” Heather said. “I watched him. So I know he did.”

  Sarae shrugged her shoulders. “So? Maybe he just came by because the girls asked him to.”

  “But Chloe’s stepdad told the Sheriff that the girls were fine,” said Heather. “He said that after all this took place. I tried to follow him when he took their stuff, but I can’t leave this place.”

  “So, you’re saying that Chloe’s stepdad came up here and got their stuff, and then he lied and said that he didn’t know the girls were gone.”

  “That’s right,” Heather said.

  “You didn’t tell me this before,” Sarae gasped.

  “That’s because you weren’t listening,” Heather exclaimed grandly. “But now I’ve found somebody who does listen.”

  Remy waved a hand in a small circle. “Ladies, could we … speed this up?”

  Don’t include me in her display of snippiness! Sarae came sailing down the hill. “Now look here, mister….”

  “I’m sorry,” Marcus said, taking Remy by the shoulders and steering him out of the way. “No offense is meant.”

  Remy opened his mouth, but Marcus had his shoulder in what looked like a Vulcan death grip. Remy made a peep, then subsided.

  “There’s more,” Heather said. “I’m sure this was not on the police report. But when Haley came out of the cabin, she was yelling about severed body parts.”

  Sarae started. “Are you freaking serious?”

  Heather looked glum. For once she didn’t act like a total jerk in reply. “Serious as a heart attack.”

  “And the po
lice didn’t investigate?”

  “They went inside, but there was no door where Haley said, no room, no secret room. Nothing.”

  “What did she say about a secret room and body parts? Can you tell us more?” Remy asked.

  “She said there was a door open downstairs with body parts in the room,” Heather said. “But that’s a lie. There’s no such thing in that cabin.”

  Remy looked at her skeptically.

  “I’ve lived here at this cabin since that fat turd of a husband killed me,” Heather squawked. “I would know if there’s a freezer full of body parts.”

  Remy’s brow wrinkled. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  For some reason, Heather glowered. But she shut up.

  “So … is Haley a tweaker?” asked Sarae.

  “A what?” Remy and Heather said at the same time.

  “You know,” said Sarae. “A meth user.”

  Heather puffed up, all indignation. “Haley doesn’t use drugs! She’s perfectly sober.”

  “Saying crazy stuff about severed body parts is what I’d expect from somebody who’s … you know,” Sarae said as the ghost began to turn blotchy as on the day of her death again.

  “Enough with the attitude,” Remy grumbled at Heather. “If you need my help, then I need you to calm down.”

  Heather reverted back into her regular 1980s self. “I don’t know what got into me … I’m so sorry….”

  “So are the alleged severed body parts in this house?” Sarae asked, pointing at the fancy rich person’s cabin. “I want to go into the cabin and look around.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s locked,” said Remy.

  “There are no body parts, severed or otherwise, in that cabin,” Heather snapped.

  Sarae didn’t listen but started walking to the cabin. In the old days, everybody left their houses unlocked, but these days people were forced to lock everything up due to all the meth addicts and other unsavory elements running around in the area stealing stuff. Times were hard here.

  But it was a nice cabin, a hunting cabin, and rich people always locked up their stuff and had game cameras and whatnot. Motion detectors. Lights. Alarms.

  She walked around the house, far enough back so she wouldn’t set off any alarms. “Zoe?” she whispered. “Fly in there for me, around the house. See if you set off anything.”

  “Are you sending me out to get caught in the traps?” the owl asked.

  “They’re not going to throw nets over you,” Sarae said. “I just want to see what they have in the way of alarms and lights.”

  Zoe darted out and sailed in circles around the house. A light came on over the front door and the back door, but that seemed to be all.

  Zoe flew back to Sarae’s shoulder. “There’s something odd over here on the far side of the house,” she said. “Follow me.” She launched herself into the air and flew ahead, circling and circling as Sarae followed to let her catch up.

  Behind the house Sarae stopped. There was an odd disturbance in the air in front of her. She reached out her hand and felt a force that was something like holding her hand near a static-charged balloon – a light magnetic field that lightly repelled her hand. But, unlike a balloon, this force sent a strange chill down her back.

  She shuddered and drew back, not wanting to get any closer to whatever this was. “What do you think it is?” she asked the owl. “Can you see anything here?”

  “No. It’s just … air,” Zoe called down. “But I don’t want to get closer. Did you feel that weird force?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “I don’t think there are any spirits here, but … I really don’t know.” Zoe landed on Sarae’s shoulder. “Where is that odious ghost? Maybe she can see if there’s anybody here.”

  Sarae sighed and called, “Heather!”

  The ghost appeared at their side sulkily. “Jealous?”

  Sarae pointed at the disturbance. “See what that is.”

  “I swear, can’t you do this one little thing yourself without calling for my help?” Heather griped at Sarae, putting her hand out.

  “You might want to look at ….” But Sarae didn’t have time to finish her sentence.

  Heather, not watching what she was doing, touched the disturbance.

  A cold pulse of energy burst out from it.

  The next instant, Sarae hit the ground, every hair on body standing uncomfortably on end.

  Zoe struggled on the ground, flapping, every one of her feathers at maximum poof.

  “Ugh!” Sarae said, raising herself up and shaking her head. Her hair didn’t move. It was a complete poof, just like the owl’s. “What happened!”

  Heather lay twisting on the ground, making a nasty liquid roar.

  Marcus came running up. “What did she do? What happened to … to your hair?” he added, staring.

  “She touched that ….” Sarae gestured vaguely at the whatever it was in the air.

  The great horned owl flew around the corner of the house but instantly backwinged clumsily in the air, diverting its flight to a nearby tree. “Who touched that?” he cried in a deep voice. “Don’t go near it.”

  “Too late,” muttered Sarae.

  I’d Like to Get To Know You, Maybe

  Heather vanished in mid-scream.

  Sarae got up, trying to unpoof herself. The hair on her arms and legs was standing straight up and she felt prickly all over, but poor Zoe kept ruffling her feathers, trying to get them to relax and calm down. She was too poofed to even fly.

  Sarae put her leather bracelet on her wrist and coaxed Zoe to step onto her arm, then got up shakily. She made a wide berth around the disturbance in the air.

  “Yeah, I’m not getting near that again,” she said. “You guys stay away from it, too.”

  The great horned owl spread its wings. “That is the residue of some change, a transformation, a death brought about by torture.”

  Sarae’s eyes went wide, and she gawked at the seemingly empty space in the air. “Torture?” she asked.

  The owl turned his head, his wide yellow eyes gazing off into the distance. Then he flew off without saying anything more.

  “He does that,” Remy said.

  But then the owl circled back. “Perhaps you should eat some dinner while Zoe and I search the forests.” It was getting dark out.

  Sarae was smoothing down Zoe’s feathers, more successfully now.

  “I’d be happy to go,” the screech owl said glumly, stepping to the side and floofing out her feathers.

  “Maybe we should make dinner,” Marcus said.

  Sarae felt a little uncomfortable being out here with two guys she didn’t know, but Marcus was going into the RV and the mosquitoes were starting to bite, and poor Remy was swatting himself like crazy.

  “What is this hell?” he asked, so they all went in where it was mosquito-free.

  The cabin of the RV smelled nice, like Axe body spray, only more refined somehow. And it smelled like new car. A number of luxuriously soft seats in the back surrounded a little table. The RV had two TVs and a satellite radio. Sarae thought of her grandpa’s camper with its tiny cot beds and little stove, and all the card games they played at the fold-down Formica table. Times had changed.

  Marcus shooed Remy into the kitchen, or kitchenette, where he brought out a carton of eggs, some spinach, and a jar of artichoke hearts. “Sit down,” he ordered Sarae. “You might as well.”

  Marcus slid into a table and Sarae slid in on the opposite side, folding her hands. She felt weird sitting here without Zoe on her shoulder, though the little owl was doing the work that would have been difficult for her to do, out at night in a Missouri forest. It was a lot of ground to cover in the dark, and the terrain was not the easiest to cross when you didn’t know where you were going or what to watch out for.

  And now she was alone with these two men … though Remy was busy in the kitchenette. “Where are the damn measuring cups?” he asked, opening drawer after drawer.

  �
��It’s the top drawer,” Marcus said calmly. “The first one you opened.”

  Remy grumbled and pulled them out, then got a wee mini-gallon of milk out of a tiny fridge.

  “So what’s your story?” Marcus asked Sarae.

  She found that she was kind of … nervous, she suddenly realized.

  “I started living here a couple of years ago,” she said quietly. “I got a part-time job that pays the bills. I have a small house out here in the country. I … have an owl.” She kind of shrugged a little. “Her name is Zoe.”

  And Sarae realized that she hadn’t had any meaningful conversations with anybody outside of Zoe and her family ever since the disaster. For a full year, actually.

  She breathed out quietly, hoping that Marcus didn’t notice.

  Marcus smiled, so natural and friendly that she felt more at ease.

  “I’m Marcus,” he said. “I travel with Remy because he obviously needs the help.”

  “Hey. I’m standing right here,” Remy reminded him, cracking eggs into a bowl and whipping them.

  Marcus nodded mildly. “Yes, you are,” he said. “We’re recent arrivals from California.”

  “So how do you know each other? How long have you been friends?”

  Marcus pulled a face. “Remy and I have known each other through long acquaintance over the years.”

  Remy grunted.

  “I’ve saved his life a couple of times,” Marcus added in a lower voice to Sarae.

  “Not true!” Remy griped from next to the stove.

  Marcus smiled quietly.

  Sarae kind of liked this guy. “So why did you come clear out here to the middle of nowhere? I mean, if you haven’t noticed, there is absolutely nothing here.”

  “That’s not true. There’s … stuff ….” Marcus said evasively.

  “You mean like, people?” Sarae asked with a laugh.

  “We are here to get away from people,” Remy said, folding in the spinach and artichoke hearts he’d just expertly chopped up.

  “You sure chose the right place for that,” Sarae said and Marcus laughed.

  “What’s the story with that Heather girl?” Remy was heating up some oil in a skillet, and Sarae’s stomach growled from the smell of cooking. It had been a while since she’d had a good meal.