Adam on the phone with his boss brought her back to reality. “… yeah. Going to hit the emergency room. It hurts, but it’s not that bad. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
“You’re driving like that?” Mia blinked at him.
“It’s just my left foot. Don’t need that one to drive.” He waved her at the Tahoe. “You should probably get that thing out of the road before someone plows into it.”
Mia let Robin stand, then got to her feet. “Okay. I can call out and drive you if you want.”
“I’m good. Go on. No sense both of us being late. Might want to ask Wilhelmina about a charm for the truck.”
“Wait here, sweetie.” Mia gave Robin’s shoulder a squeeze, then hurried down the driveway to where the Tahoe sat horizontally across the road.
The rear bumper had a small dent from the tree, in better shape than the Nissan’s driver side door. She dug the keys out of her purse, hit the button to unlock the doors, and hopped in. The engine started without issue. After parking on the road at the base of the driveway, she got out to load Robin into the car seat.
Adam hopped on one leg over to the Sentra. “Ehh. About time to replace this one anyway. What do you think? Should we get another car or look at something bigger and bump the Tahoe to the ‘second vehicle?’”
“We’ve only had it for six years.” Mia secured the seatbelts around Robin.
“It’s as old as me.” She thrust her arms up, then patted the seat, talking to the truck. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t try to hurt me.”
“I’m not saying we get rid of the Tahoe, just do we get a replacement ‘second car’ or something like a minivan.”
“So you want another kid?” asked Mia.
Adam put on an innocent face. “The idea’s been rattling around in my head.”
Mia shut the back door after securing Robin in her car seat. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive to the hospital?”
“Yeah.” He waved. “Go. Don’t be late.”
Against her better judgement, Mia trotted around to the other side and got in. She tested the parking brake, which appeared to work normally. The second time she pressed down on it, she remembered the phantom pain in her foot from that day six-ish years ago. It had hit her the instant she decided to set the parking brake because of the driveway’s incline.
Well, how about that…? I guess I really am psychic.
She started the engine and drove around in a U-turn toward Wilhelmina’s.
39
Mad
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
The discussion they’d had over dinner played on a loop in Mia’s mind.
It didn’t seem worth it to fix the door on the Nissan when the car approached thirteen years old and already had several other issues. Adam wanted to maybe get a mini-SUV, something smaller than the Tahoe that could still handle the more extreme roads around here. A minivan would run into the same sort of issues as a car in bad weather on winding backwoods roads or dirt trails.
As frustrating as the idea of taking on the expense of a new car—or buying a lightly used one—was, she lacked the emotional bandwidth to get worked up over it after nearly losing Robin twice in about a week.
She reclined on the couch, not quite watching a Disney Channel movie about a frontier family. Robin, in one of Mia’s T-shirts for a nightgown, sat between her and Adam, who had his left foot up on the ottoman. He’d suffered a simple fracture to the second metatarsal bone, resulting in a boot cast and crutch time. Mia marveled that he’d been able to drive himself to the hospital and went to work right after. Though, he did teach from his chair. He hadn’t taken any of the painkillers they’d prescribed him until arriving home.
A soft knock came from the door.
Mia glanced over, half tempted to ignore it, but the flickering light from the TV made it obvious they were home. The part of her that hated being rude rose up and nudged her off the couch as Adam reached for the crutch.
“Sit still.” She playfully swatted at him.
When she opened the front door to see Weston standing there, she damn near closed it in his face. Only an inkling of doubt stalled her hand. The coven’s spells had proven mostly effective in shielding the house, but hadn’t been able to permanently banish Vic. She didn’t have much trust that Weston’s brand of paranormal interference—prayer—would do much since it hadn’t helped back when the Vaughans owned the place, but if it offered even a tiny chance of protecting Robin, she’d at least give him the chance to say something.
The man didn’t look well, paler than usual, his hair disheveled, eyes wide. A faint essence of beer hovered around him as well, though it didn’t come from his breath or from his clothing.
“What brings you here at such a late hour?” asked Mia.
“I’ve been praying for guidance. It’s never been clearer to me than it is now. Those pagans are doing something unholy. You and your family must come to the church before it’s too late. God will still protect you.”
“Have you been sleeping? You… look a bit strung out.”
Weston rubbed his forehead, eyes fluttering. “I’ve been pastor here for over forty years, and I am deeply concerned for the wellbeing of all God’s children who live in my town. What’s going on here is an affront to the Lord.”
She gritted her teeth. Dad frequently called Timothy that, an ‘affront to God.’ “If you’re here to try and do something about Vic’s spirit, we can talk. Otherwise, you should go home and get some sleep.”
“It’s imperative that you and your family get out of this house as soon as possible. You’re welcome to shelter at the church. Just follow Minstrel Run to Deer Path, take the left onto Brownbriar road.”
“You can pray for us wherever we are.”
“Holy ground!” shouted Weston. “You need to be on holy ground to shield yourselves from the influence of the Devil.”
“For the love of…” muttered Adam.
“Pastor Parker,” said Mia, “I think you maybe should consider talking to someone… like a therapist? You seem a bit obsessive.”
“It’s not too late.” Weston’s eyes flashed with a manic glint. He started to reach for her, but stopped himself. “Your souls hang in the balance.”
Mia leaned back, not at all liking the energy he threw off. “Weston, you’re unwell. You need to go home.”
He stuck his foot in the door as she started to close it. “Listen to yourself. The Devil makes you reject the Lord. If you continue to do so, you’ll be damned.”
Robin walked up beside Mia, scowling at Weston.
“Back!” Weston flung his arm up.
Mia yelped and grabbed Robin, starting to drag her away from the gun she expected would be in his hand… but he had a crucifix.
“Back in the name of the Lord!” He wagged the crucifix at the girl. “This is not a real child! You have welcomed a demon into your home. Robin Kurtis is dead!”
Adam’s groan of pain accompanied the rattle of an aluminum crutch.
“This is Robin Gartner. You’re insane. Robin Kurtis was born in 1963. Don’t you hear how delusional you sound, Weston? I wasn’t even born when that poor girl died.”
Weston emitted a raspy wheeze. The fragrance of stale beer grew stronger.
“Mr. Parker…” Adam limped up behind Mia. “As an actual psychologist, it’s my opinion that you should seek help, and probably soon. You have an unhealthy obsession with this house.”
Mia glared at Weston, who continued staring past his crucifix at the child. A new hostility simmered in the depths of his pale brown eyes that hadn’t been there before. She had no doubt this man wanted to hurt Robin.
“You stay away from us, and stay away from my daughter.” Mia pointed at him. “I have no idea what’s gone wrong in your head, but you keep it away from here.”
Robin darted over to the coffee table, grabbed Mia’s cell phone, and ran it back over to her.
“I’m going to call the sheriff now, Weston.”
H
e eyed the phone as if considering swatting it out of her hand, then shifted his gaze to Adam.
“Why are you so mean to us?” asked Robin. “We just want to be happy.”
“You took their minds and their souls, demon.” Weston waved the crucifix at her. “And they don’t even know it. You’re not real.”
Robin edged behind Mia. “Mommy, I’m scared.”
“See! The fiend fears the Lord!”
“That’s it,” muttered Mia. She swiped the phone open and called 911.
“Spring Falls sheriff,” said a woman two rings later. “Deputy Clark.”
Mia kept her eyes on Weston’s. “Yes, this is Mia Gartner at Six Minstrel Run. Weston Parker’s at the door threatening us. He seems to be out of his mind or something. I smell beer on him, but he’s acting more like he’s high… or paranoid.”
“What’s he doing now?” asked Deputy Clark.
“Just staring at us. He seems to think my six-year-old is some kind of demon and wants to destroy her.”
Weston snarled and stormed off to his Jeep in the driveway. He yanked its door open, but turned to shout back at them, “The wages of sin are death!”
He got in and slammed the door.
“He’s leaving,” said Mia. “And totally nuts.”
Robin clung to her side.
“All right. Wilmott’s in the area. I’ll have him stop by to check up on you folks.”
“Thank you.”
Weston cut the corner tight at the end of the driveway, going over a bit of lawn to the road.
“There’s something definitely not right in that head.” Adam grunted, shifting his weight. “I hate to say it, but I think he cracked.”
“As soon as he got a good look at her the other day. I practically heard his mind shatter.” Mia shut the door and rested her hand on Robin’s shoulder. “All the old people in town seemed to recognize her.”
“Little place like this, sure. The murder, the trial, the spectacle of it consumed their every waking moment for that whole year.” Adam shuffled back to the sofa, fell seated, and let out a relieved sigh. “Most normal people would see her and file it away as a bizarre coincidence. The idea of reincarnation at all likely doesn’t even enter their thought process.”
“But Weston isn’t exactly normal people.” Mia returned to the couch and pulled Robin up to sit in her lap.
“Can I sleep with you guys tonight? I’m scared,” asked Robin.
“Of course.” Mia picked her up.
Adam reached over and ruffled her hair. “You’re scared of that crazy old preacher?”
“A little. I’m scared ’cause I’m gonna turn seven next year, and he’s mad at me.”
“Weston?” asked Mia.
“No. The bad daddy. He wants to make me a ghost again.”
Mia squeezed Robin and shot a desperate look at Adam. “If we have to move, we’re gonna move. I won’t let him kill her twice.”
Adam put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you think it will help?”
Mia shivered with worry. “Not really. He didn’t die here. There shouldn’t be anything significant about this house to him. He should be haunting Johnny’s since he spent so much time there or the courthouse since he died there.”
“He should go away,” whispered Robin. “I don’t wanna be a ghost again.”
“It’ll be okay, sweetie.” Mia clutched her daughter tight. That’s not gonna happen. Not until you’re old and grey. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
Even if it kills me to protect her, that bastard isn’t going to touch her.
40
Ashes to Ashes
Saturday, June 22, 2019
The idea of moving out of the house resurfaced the next morning over breakfast.
“Not like out of town far, just out of this house. Maybe it is cursed,” muttered Mia.
“Wilhelmina couldn’t find anything to suggest this land is tainted, and she spent years looking.” Adam stirred raspberry jam into his oatmeal. “I’m not convinced it will help, but if you feel strongly about it, okay.”
“I’m kinda scared of my room, but I kinda like it, too. It feels like home. I don’t ’member bein’ made a ghost. Just that he did it.”
Mia continued debating if they should move while finishing off her oatmeal, though didn’t pick up on any feelings one way or the other, at least nothing stronger than the continuous background worry that had been nagging at her since yesterday. Deputy Wilmott had been friendly, even if he looked too young for the uniform. He claimed to be twenty-two but looked eighteen. She hadn’t heard anything more from the sheriff’s office about it yet. With any luck, they’d go see Weston, realize he’d gone crazy, and take him somewhere for evaluation.
Once Mia collected the empty dishes, Robin ran to the living room and flopped on the floor by the TV amid her collection of stuffed animals. Mia rinsed the bowls before putting them in the dishwasher as oatmeal turned into concrete if it dried out.
Adam relocated to the sofa with his laptop. Mia zipped around the house, still overwhelmed at having to clean a place that size. Even with Adam taking on his share, it still felt like an endless battle. For as long as it took his foot to recover, she’d focus only on the more critical cleaning. Robin pretended to paint her toenails with a miniature faerie wand and toy plastic bottle, half her attention on whatever cartoon show Adam had put on for her.
Mia’s cell phone rang a little after eleven. Hoping to hear good news from the sheriff’s office, she rushed to the dining room and grabbed it off the table. Upon seeing Janet Newman on the Caller ID, she cringed with hesitation, certain she’d picked up some kind of psychic warning. Whether it meant answering would be a bad idea, the call brought bad news, or something else, she couldn’t tell.
She didn’t see how ignoring a call from her boss could possibly end positively for her. Janet had been promoted to the number two spot overseeing the entire museum, and Mia took on the manager’s position for the restoration department.
“Hey, Janet. What’s up?”
“Oh, thank God you’re there. There’s been an… event at the museum. I just got a call from the fire department. The sprinkler system apparently went off, and I haven’t been able to figure out exactly what’s going on. They need a manager there, and you’re the closest person with all the keys. I’m still in Albany. Is there any way you could head down to the museum and meet with the fire department? It sounds like there’s no actual fire, but a malfunction set off the waterworks in the back areas.”
Mia bit her lip, dreading the potential damage. Fortunately, she could bring paintings back from water. Fire, not so much. “Okay. I’ll go right now.”
“Thank you so much. I owe you one!”
“I’ll call you as soon as I can with an update.”
“Great. You’re amazing.”
Mia sighed and hung up.
“That didn’t sound good,” said Adam.
“No. The fire system went off at the museum. Probably dozens of artifacts getting a bath from the sprinklers. I’m the nearest manager, so I need to run over there with the keys.”
Well, that explains the weird feeling. Bad news.
“Okay. I’ll, umm… be here.” He smiled.
Mia rushed upstairs to swap her sweat pants for jeans and sneakers—no sense dressing nice for an emergency call on a weekend—and hurried back downstairs. After a quick hug and kiss with Robin and Adam, she headed out to the Tahoe, hoping that Janet’s tendency to expect the worst of things meant the damage wouldn’t be all that bad.
Adam winced, shifting his leg on the ottoman into a slightly more comfortable position.
He looked up at the rev of the Tahoe’s engine. Easy, hon. Don’t drive like a nut.
Robin played with her plush animals and dolls, sprawled on the floor in front of the couch in a simple white dress with pink trim. She swished her bare feet back and forth, doing silly gibberish voices for the various dolls. He took a small break from grading the essays his s
tudents had submitted electronically to merely sit there watching his daughter be happy. Whenever Mia arrived home, assuming the chaos at the museum hadn’t left her in a bad mental state, he’d bring up the idea of adding to the family again.
Thump.
Robin looked up at the ceiling.
“Think that was a fat squirrel falling off a branch?”
She giggled. “No, Daddy.”
The house had been spiritually quiet for some time, long enough that a random noise with no apparent cause once again stood out as unusual. Nothing like the first few weeks they’d lived here. Somewhere along the line, he’d lost his ‘kid-at-Christmas’ excitement for paranormal events. At least, paranormal events going on where he lived.
Thud.
Robin jumped with a gasp.
That one came from the kitchen.
She crawled over to the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and muted the TV.
A long, slow creak broke the silence, then a wooden clatter.
That sounds like the back door’s swinging in the wind. Dammit. Guess Vic is in a mood.
Footsteps passed by overhead, heavy, like a large, angry man.
Robin crawled under the coffee table.
Another thud came from the kitchen. The door creaked again.
Grumbling, Adam grabbed the crutch and wobbled upright.
“Don’t go,” whispered Robin. “I’m scared.”
“Just need to close the back door. I’m not going anywhere.” He hobbled across the dining room to the kitchen, and frowned at the back door wide open. “At least he’s only being annoying.”
After looking around at the floor to make sure no ‘traps’ waited for him, Adam limped over to close it.
Sudden motion came at him from the right. He pivoted, raising his arms to block whatever object Vic threw at his face—but realized too late that Weston had been hiding in the small foyer by the shelf of canned goods. The old pastor rammed a hunting knife into Adam’s torso. His bones rattled from the blade deflecting off the bottom of his ribcage, but the pain of the wound itself didn’t hit him right away.
The Spirits of Six Minstrel Run Page 30