by Alexie Aaron
“This morning.”
“You’re telling me that forty-two shareholders were all contacted this morning and…”
“Forty-one shareholders, Thaddeus Maynard the Third is behind the whole thing.”
“This was supposed to be a charitable organization responsible for creating a new conservation area northwest of Big Bear Lake. A tax write-off for those people.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me; I instigated the deal, if you remember. It was a way for you to recoup the money you sunk into the project. You needed it for Haitian relief if I may remind you.”
Gerald closed his eyes and said, “Is there any way we can stop this?”
“It done and dusted. Do you want me to sell?”
“No. Give me a day to figure something out,” Gerald said, defeated. He set the handset in the cradle and leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “What have I done?” he asked himself as images of the disappointed faces of those involved in the hollow flashed by in his mind. Father Santos’s disapproving frown stayed center. Gerald opened up his eyes and dialed the parish house.
The phone was answered by Santos’s secretary who informed him that the father was away for the morning but was expected back soon if he wanted to leave a message.
“Ask him to call Gerald Shem as soon as possible. Tell him…” he stopped, not knowing how to phrase the message. “Tell him, there’s trouble in the hollow.”
Chapter Twelve
Tonia lowered the window washer’s platform to the fourteenth floor. Lorna held on with white fists, not trusting her friend’s quick study of the contraption. They were wearing the uniforms of the company hired to keep the high-rise’s windows sparkling. The wind was cold, and the sunshine did little to warm the women.
“Why does it have to be so windy?” Lorna asked.
“Do you want the meteorological answer or do you want me to lie to you?” Tonia asked as she maneuvered the cradle as close to the balcony as possible.
“Nevermind,” Lorna mumbled, watching Tonia unhook her safety line and climb the edge of the platform before jumping onto the balcony with the grace of a cat.
The platform shuddered after the release of Tonia’s weight. Lorna waited a moment before tossing the small black duffle to her partner.
“Your turn,” Tonia said and stood ready to catch Lorna.
Lorna refused to uncouple herself from the cradle. She released as much slack as she could from the safety line before she climbed the edge and jumped. Tonia caught her. The line stretched to its limit, pulling the cradle towards the women. Tonia pulled out her knife and cut the line before Lorna was pulled backward with the momentum of the heavy platform as it tried to settle itself.
“You saved me again, Ton,” Lorna said, slipping out of the safety harness. “Let’s hope we don’t have to use this as our escape route. I’m not a fan of dying,” she said, looking over the edge of the railing.
“You have to have faith in your abilities.”
“It’s not that I don’t have faith in my physical body, it’s my mind that fucks me over at times. All that screaming gets in the way of rational thought.”
Tonia was already walking to the nearest set of sliding doors. They opened with ease. She slid inside, holding back the vertical blind slats soundlessly for Lorna to move into the apartment. They didn’t expect to find Thaddeus there. The doorman outside informed Lorna earlier that the man had gone out to a business meeting. She then tried to enter the building, unsuccessfully. Tonia, a few minutes later, had gotten as far as the elevators but lacked the keycard to travel beyond the sixth floor. Not one to let a challenge go, she was skulking around the rear alley of the building when she spotted the window washers leaving for lunch.
Lorna moved about the silent apartment, taking in the expensive and tasteful furnishings. “What I don’t get is, why choose this obvious, public person?”
“Money. Money is power. It buys a lot of things. First thing Brentwood does is build an empire of some kind with every possession. In this case, the empire is already built. All he has to do is… Well, let’s hope we can stop him before that happens.”
Lorna looked over at her partner and marveled at the way she absorbed the contents of the room and seemed to know just where to search. Tonia simply walked out of the room and entered the chef-ready kitchen. Lorna followed her through the stainless and marble domain over to the subzero freezer. Tonia opened the door and pulled out a half full vodka bottle.
“Ah, the breakfast of the rich and alcoholic,” Lorna commented as she watched Tonia bag the bottle in a Ziploc bag. “What are you doing?”
“Watch and learn,” she said, drawing out her herb bag. She selected a few dry herbs and sprinkled them inside the Ziploc bag. Next, she walked the plastic bag over to the deep sink and set it down carefully. Tonia pulled out of her pocket a strange pipe and lit it.
“That’s not…”
“No, but watch the door all the same,” Tonia said, winking at her. She drew in some smoke and blew it into the plastic bag, closing it quickly. “One, two, three…”
A small popping sound, not unlike popcorn, emanated from the bag as the herbs reacted to the smoke.
“Now we wait. See the handprints forming?” Tonia said, lifting the bagged bottle up to the light.
“We could have dusted for prints,” Lorna said, unimpressed.
The hand prints started to move along the bottle.
“Okay, print powder can’t do that. What the hell is going on?”
“I wanted to find out how much of the host is still left in the body,” she said, watching as the prints pulsed as they separated and pushed away from the expensive vodka. They plumped and took on three dimensional forms.
“Looks like Tad here is a two-fisted drinker.”
The bag was straining at the stretched limits as the hands continued to push at their prison.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Lorna admitted.
Tonia shook the bag, and the hands disappeared. She set it down in the sink, pulled the bottle out and ran cold water over it. She dried it and replaced it in the freezer. The bag she folded up and stuck in one of the pockets of the uniform.
“Well?”
“I think Brentwood made his first big error.”
“And that is?”
“Soul-jumping into an unconscious body is one thing. You can assess what you have there and how much you need to eliminate of the host before jailing the rest of the Id. But a drunk is something else altogether. Brentwood thinks he has a malleable host, but the longer the host, in this case Tad, is away from alcohol, the stronger his pickled mind becomes until…”
“He fights back,” Lorna finished.
“The hands are Tad’s,” Tonia said. “He’s almost ready to take on Brentwood. We just need to encourage the man a bit.”
“But can’t Brentwood simply drink and keep Tad happy?”
“Not and function on the level he needs to. He’s already sensed something’s not right. That’s why the early morning hit,” Tonia said, nodding towards the freezer.
“What did your little experiment tell you?”
“It told me that Thaddeus Maynard the Third isn’t the patsy Brentwood thinks he is. The kid’s a fighter, and once he’s weaned from the bottle, he will force Brentwood out. We just have to sit back, wait and take care of business when the event happens. Brentwood has chosen the wrong man to possess.”
~
Tom sat open-mouthed at the table as Cid did his best to explain who they needed to invite to the party at the hollow.
“I met Father Santos when he did an exorcism at the county lockup. Angelo Michaels is just some big Italian bruiser…”
“Who’s a birdman in disguise,” Cid enlightened him.
“Whoa, wait, a birdman?” Tom looked over at Mia who was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching them. She nodded.
“So is Judy. You met her at the wedding with the giant,” Cid added.
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br /> “Ed,” Tom identified. “Now is Ed a birdman?”
“No, he’s a time-walker who thinks he’s a god,” Cid illuminated.
“You have to be making this up. They were a bit odd, but Ed was hardly a god,” Tom said, more for his sanity than clarification. “Does John Ryan know all of this?”
Cid looked over at Mia, and she hunched her shoulders before replying, “I wouldn’t be surprised, but it wouldn’t hurt to run the lineup past him for a refresher.”
“Father Alessandro, what is he?” Tom asked, looking at his list.
“A priest,” Mia said simply, then added, “But he can read minds. This comes in handy when you’re investigating on silent mode.”
“The name Komal was brought up a few times. Have I met him?” Tom asked confused.
“No, he’s a… well, I’m not sure what he is?” Mia pondered a moment. “Are you familiar with bilocation?”
“Walking out of the body, gurus do it,” Tom answered.
“It’s when the spirit leaves the body. Komal was a master at it and taught a student how to do it, but then the student killed his body. Komal was trapped between worlds. He wasn’t dead, his body was, but his spirit is very much alive. He lives on an island in the middle of Lake Michigan presently. The prison that once held him is now his sanctuary. Judy and Ed are living there with him until they can acclimate to our world.” Mia stopped talking and watched as Tom weighed the information he was given.
“I don’t expect I’ll be seeing Komal,” he said.
“I doubt it. You may have to deal with Ed and Judy though,” Mia said.
“Tell him about Judge Roumain,” Cid requested.
“The king of Purgatory,” Tom read off his notes.
“He’s not really a king,” Mia said, looking irritated. “We ran into him when my aunt traded me to Angelo in order to have her lover risen from the dead.”
Tom stood up and walked over to the refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out a beer. He clicked on his radio and said, “May Bell, I’m off duty until further notice,” clicked it off, opened the beer, took a long pull, sat down, and put his head in his arms.
“I think you broke him,” Cid accused.
“Me? You wanted to bring him up-to-date on all the people on the standby-in-case-of-war-on-humanity list.”
“It didn’t fry my brain,” Cid argued.
“You had over a year to live through it. Poor Tom is getting it all at once. There are limits to how much you can take in without…”
“Your brain frying,” Tom interjected. He sat up, flipped his notebook back open and read down the names. “Tell you what, I’ll read off the characters, and you tell me in the fewest possible words what they are and what they can bring to the party.”
Cid and Mia looked at each other and nodded.
“Okay, first on all my lists is you, Mia.”
“I can see and hear ghosts, bilocate - a small amount of telekinesis ability, but I usually start whatever I move on fire.”
“Don’t worry, I have a fire extinguisher in the cruiser,” Tom said. “Let’s see, we have the priests. I can pretty much figure out what they specialize in. Okay, explain Angelo.”
“He’s a man who can morph into various black birds. He’s part of a secret society I’ve yet to understand. He wanted me to become one of them. I declined. He’s had to deal with that. Before you ask, Judy, or Refugia, was part of this society in the guise of a Gray Lady. They are healers and can also travel by wing. She’s retired. Ed, or He-who-walks-through-time, is a time traveler. He could open a vortex and move between his time and now. I don’t believe he can do this anymore, but I’m not sure. Whether he’s mortal is up to debate.”
“Is he a good guy?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Mia said. “He seems to be standing on our side of the fence right now. He did cause me a big headache when he kidnapped my father, but that’s water under the bridge.”
“Okay, moving on. Your aunt Beverly I know is a sensitive. Can she do anything else?”
“Cause heartbreak and trouble,” Cid interjected.
Mia ignored him and offered, “She bilocates, quite good at it by the way. If she has other powers, she keeps them to herself. My family is quite secretive about what they can do. I didn’t know my father Charles could see spirits until Ed took him on a joy hike. My grandmother Fredericka seems to have been hiding her light under a bushel. She supposedly passed on, but I’m no longer sure of that.”
“Don’t sweat it, Mia,” Cid consoled. “My parents haven’t told me I was adopted yet.”
“What?” Mia said surprised. “Really?”
“I’ve known ever since I found my spaceship buried in the barn,” Cid said, his eyes twinkling.
“Oh you!” Mia reached into the sink and tossed a wet dishrag at him. It caught him in the face.
“Ah, kryptonite!” Cid moaned and withered in his chair.
Tom laughed. He was well aware of Mia’s nickname for the once coke-bottle-lens-bespectacled man. Clark Kent. His superhero looks had been masked by his glasses until he had Lasik surgery on both eyes.
“Anybody else?” Tom asked with his pen ready.
“There’s the Lone Ranger and Tonto,” Cid pointed out.
“That would be Lorna Grainger and Tonia Toh. Tonia seems to be a… well, I’m not exactly sure. She can see spirits, touch spirits, reanimate memories from dried plants, and is quite a stunt rider,” Mia listed.
“She introduced herself to us as a spirit hunter. She claims that she and Lorna bring ghosts to justice when they cross the line and hurt the living,” Cid explained.
“They’re the ones that alerted you to a possible problem in the hollow,” Tom clarified.
“They and Murphy. He noticed that we were being watched by One Feather, who turned out to be the hanging man masquerading as the warrior.”
Tom drained the rest of the beer and looked at the empty bottle.
“Can I get you another?” Mia asked.
“No, I have a feeling that no amount of alcohol is going to help me here,” Tom said. “Mia, should I call Whit?”
Mia was careful to not show any emotion on her face when she answered. “Since he’s law enforcement, federal now, I think I’ll leave that up to you and Sheriff Ryan.”
Cid picked up on Mia’s odd behavior but let it go. He would offer an ear or a shoulder if needed but not in front of the deputy.
“The only reason I ask is because he’s been through this before.”
“Wouldn’t it just bring up the bad memories of Sherry’s death?” Mia asked.
“Yes, it would, but he’s got to deal with that. He can’t go on blaming you for something that was out of your control. Sherry walked into that hornets’ nest after being warned off repeatedly by you. Whit had to see signs of her changing but did nothing. If anything, Whitney Martin needs to take stock,” Tom reasoned.
“But facing more of the same isn’t going to help him, Tom. He’s always had it easy. Handsome athlete, popular in school, protective parents,” Mia listed. “When the hollow reached out and took Sherry, his world shattered. He barely could function there for a while.”
Cid watched the two friends. Ted was on edge whenever Whit’s name was mentioned. He confessed to Cid that he didn’t know how much Mia’s former crush meant to her now. Cid could see the love in her eyes when Whit was discussed, but it wasn’t how Mia looked when she talked about Ted. Burt and Whit had been loved by Mia but not anything like how she loved her husband. She was consumed by him. Ted was his best friend, and Cid knew all his faults. But, to Mia, these weren’t faults at all. She didn’t worship the ground Ted walked on, but she loved him with all of her being.
Maggie bounded into the room, jumping up on Cid. She heralded Ted’s approach. Tom and Mia dropped the conversation.
“You know, a guy could get paranoid when the conversation stops when he walks in the room,” Ted said, looking at the conspirators.
&
nbsp; “We were just discussing your commitment papers,” Mia said.
“Oh those,” Ted returned. “I signed them but can’t remember where I put them.” He patted his pockets and put his hands up in the air. “Commitment will have to wait.” He walked over and grabbed Mia and tickled her. Her laugher rang out, and the mood of the room lifted.
Cid got up and offered to make some BLTs. Maggie was very pleased.
~
Father Santos sat looking into his teacup as if it could tell him the answers he sought. Father Alessandro patiently waited in the wingback chair placed before the roaring fire.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to enter the middle house for some time now,” Father Santos admitted. “I know it’s not rational, but I’ve always suspected that whatever waits there is beyond my control. Daisy would report to Angelo regularly, and he said things were quiet. I felt, as long as the spirits housed there were behaving themselves, then I would take a page from your book and let them be,” he explained.
“I’m not disagreeing with you, old friend,” Alessandro comforted. “But things have changed. Mia called and told me that a ghost that she’d seen in a vision walk in the middle house quite possibly was involved in killing a man at the Big Bear Lake Cemetery last night. His body was laid out as if the dead were sending a message to the living.”
Santos put his cup down and sat up straight. “Well, that’s a horse of a different color. Speaking of horses, I understand that a pair of horseback-riding spirit hunters has been seen in the area.”
“Tonia Toh and a Lorna Grainger, I’m not familiar with them.”
Santos shook his head. “Neither am I.”
“Mia says they’ve been tracking this spirit all the way from San Francisco.”
“I’ll put in a call to a friend out there and see what I can find out about the duo.”
“Sister Agnes had an unsettling adventure also yesterday,” Alessandro started.
“Dear woman,” Santos started. “What dedication. Even in death, she ministers to the weak and dying. Mia says she also does her best to convert the lost ones.”