by Alexie Aaron
“She left the room…”
“What!”
Father Santos listened in shocked silence while Alessandro caught him up on the reason she left and the missing billionaire.
“They sent the spirit trackers after the soul-jumper. Let’s hope they aren’t too late.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Father Santos’s secretary said, walking into the parish parlor.
“Yes?”
“There is a Gerald Shem here to see you, and he says it’s urgent.”
“Show him in,” Santos instructed.
Alessandro got up to leave, but Santos motioned him to stay.
They heard the fast clip of Shem’s footsteps on the polished wood in the hall before he walked into the room.
“Gentlemen, I have bad news,” he led. “Due to my mismanagement, The Hollow Conservation Group has been taken over by Maynard Industrial. It’s owned by…”
“Thaddeus Maynard the Third,” Santos said soberly.
“How did you know?”
“It seems a soul-jumper from the hollow has taken over Maynard,” Father Alessandro informed him.
“And it seems that he used his connections to buy the hollow,” Santos continued. “Gerald, you’re not at fault here. You listened to this old man when you wanted to demolish the buildings and let nature take over. Now we’ve got to move quickly to see if we can get a handle on this.”
“Gentlemen, I don’t want to throw oil on troubled waters,” Alessandro began, “but according to Mia and Ms. Toh, there is a skin-walker and a demon residing in the middle house.”
“I don’t understand the difference,” Gerald admitted.
“To the best of our knowledge,” Santos began. “Demons fall under our world and seem to respond to church control. Skin-walkers come from the other world, the world ruled by nature. Although, a skin-walker isn’t natural; it’s an abomination. It has the power to tie spirits of any sort to this world. It enslaves them and uses their energy until it sucks them dry.”
“For what purpose?” Gerald asked.
“I couldn’t tell you. Angelo may have better information,” Santos said.
“Let’s bring in Angelo and have this skin-walker taken care of,” Gerald insisted.
“Angelo can and will help, but the skin-walker only has one enemy that can defeat him,” Santos said frowning. “The cure could be worse than leaving the skin-walker be,” he warned.
“Don’t waste time talking in riddles, Father. What can destroy a skin-walker?”
“A deer-woman,” a female voice said from the corridor.
The men turned and saw a tall, strange looking woman standing boldly in the doorway. Behind her was another woman of Native American heritage.
“How did you get…”
“Beyond your security?” Tonia interrupted the priest. “We simply walked in.”
“Ton,” Lorna warned, “where is your respect? I’m sorry. I’m Lorna Grainger, and this is my friend Tonia Toh. We’re here to offer you a bargain.”
“Beware of bounty hunters and their deals,” Gerald said, reading Lorna’s mind before she could close him off.
“Tell us, child, what do you have to offer?” Father Alessandro asked.
“You deliver Thaddeus Maynard the Third to us, and we’ll supply you with a deer-woman,” Tonia offered.
“You can do this?” Father Alessandro asked.
“Yes, Father, we can.”
“But what happens once she is summoned? I hear she has no spiritual enemy,” Santos claimed.
“But she does has a mortal one,” Lorna said quietly.
The men waited, but Lorna didn’t elaborate. Whatever mortal enemy the deer-woman had would be kept secret for now.
“I think in this case, she’ll leave when your part of the bargain has been satisfied,” Lorna said earnestly. “Do we have a deal?”
“Thaddeus is an innocent,” Santos reminded the women. “How can we turn over an innocent when we don’t know…”
“Do you not deal with birdmen?” Tonia asked.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Then how can you talk about protecting innocents?” she asked.
Santos was silent.
“Do we have a deal?” Lorna asked.
Santos looked at Alessandro, and he nodded. “We have a deal.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Tonia said. Both women turned and walked away.
Father Alessandro listened to their retreating footsteps, one the soft pad of moccasins, the other the clip of small hooves.
Chapter Thirteen
The trucks roared down the highway, taking a left into the hollow. They were so large that they broke off several tree branches by the time they pulled over at the entrance to the cul-de-sac. Rolls of twelve foot high cyclone fencing were portioned out along the frontage of the property. Deep holes were dug, posts sunk and concrete poured. The whole procedure from holes to locking the gate took less than half a day. Armed guards patrolled the expanse.
Deputy Chambers pulled his cruiser over, confused by the military zone that had appeared in the once deserted housing development. He called in his position and got out to speak to the approaching guard.
Permits were produced and licenses checked. Chambers marveled at how organized they were.
“I have a question about the validity of your obstructing access to the public graveyard.”
“It’s not on public land,” the guard informed the deputy.
“I’m sorry, but I personally saw paperwork filed that said otherwise. You see my mother works in the county building,” he explained.
“You’ll have to take it up with the owner.”
“It doesn’t say on your permit who that is. I only see Maynard Industrial written here.”
“Thaddeus Maynard the Third. All questions regarding this property are to go through his lawyer.”
Chambers thanked the man and returned to his vehicle and called it in.
~
The renovated hardware store that had once housed the bankrupt Restoration Realty, buzzed with life. Drivers of large trucks carrying office equipment emptied their contents onto the sidewalk to be brought in by the team of designers inside. Thaddeus Maynard the Third strode boldly through the building and into the office tucked in the back. He put his briefcase down and surveyed the office space. On the wall was a map of the village of Big Bear Lake. He traced his finger along Main Street until he came to the graveyard. He looked at the green space and moved along the adjacent properties, calling their names out to the woman who stood with a pen and pad handy.
“Bear Buddy Preschool, Dorothy’s Beauty Salon, Bakersfield Elementary, Two Tone Spa. I want access gates from the graveyard into these properties. Hire the right people from out of town, and pay them enough to keep their mouths shut.”
The woman didn’t question his orders. She had been hired that morning through the law office. She signed a non-disclosure contract and pocketed her advance. It didn’t matter what the legality of the gates were; she’d see to it that they were in place before the week was out.
She left the office, and Thaddeus settled into his leather chair. He smiled, thinking of the pleasures to be had in this community of Midwestern people.
~
Sheriff Ryan walked out of his office and over to the counter where a pale, nervous man stood, moving side to side as he tried to balance on his aching legs.
“Can I help you?”
“Sheriff, they’re all gone. Cindy, Susie, Alberta and Karen.”
The reception deputy had been right to seek out his help when the farmer ran into the building. “Would you like to file a missing person’s report?”
The man looked confused, answering, “I guess…”
“What relation are Cindy, Susie, Alberta and Karen to you?”
The man’s mouth dropped open. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
“Are Cindy, Susie, Alberta and Karen missing?”
“Well, yes. I last checked on t
hem two hours ago, and now they’re gone.”
“Do you want to file a report or not?”
“I want you to find them. But they’re not missing persons, sir. They’re goats.”
“Goats!”
“Yes, sir, they’re my prized pigmy goats. They’re worth a couple a hundred dollars apiece.”
Ryan didn’t know whether to be mad at the desk deputy or relieved that they weren’t dealing with four missing humans. He took down the information.
“My truck’s missing too,” the farmer said. “I ran all the way here.”
“You could have called,” Ryan pointed out.
“My phone’s not working.”
“Where’s your farm exactly?”
“Out on Route 4 just outside of town.”
“I’m going to have Deputy Stevens take down your information, and I’ll have someone drive you home. Perhaps you’d like to use our phone to call your service provider to have your home phone checked out.”
“Thank you. My wife, she’ll be worried, not about me, but the goats,” he said, moving his head from side to side.
The sleep-deprived Ryan wasn’t in the mood for this. He was down one deputy, having left Tom at the PEEPs compound. He instructed Tom to go home after he’d gathered more information. If Tom was exhausted as he was, he doubted that he would see him until his shift started tomorrow.
His other go-to deputy, Chambers, had called in. He informed Ryan about the new line of fence bordering the Cold Creek properties. The entrance to the renovated cul-de-sac was now gated and guarded by permit-wielding mercenaries. Ryan had called Gerald Shem but was informed he was out of the building and couldn’t be reached. He left a detailed voicemail for the wheeler-dealer and was irritated he hadn’t been called back yet.
“Why do I feel I’m being outmaneuvered?” he asked himself.
His personal cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, pleased to see his wife’s picture displayed. “Hello Dot, what’s up?”
“John, the funniest thing just happened to me at the butcher shop. I was stopping in at Marley’s to pick up the pork shoulder for Saturday. I no sooner stepped out of the truck when the lights in the lot went out. Marley’s has always been open until eight, so I continued towards the door. It was locked, but I could hear someone inside. I pounded on the door - you know me, not the shy violet. A man dressed in military clothes walked into the lobby and yelled that they were closed. Did Marley sell his business?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“I walked back to the car, and just as I exited the lot, I noticed that Marley’s prize pig was roaming around the lot loose. I bet my socks, some kind of funny business is going on in there.”
“I’ll have someone check on it, Dot. So no pork shoulder?”
“I’m headed to the Jewel on Route 4. I’ve already called ahead, and they have one waiting for me. You’ll get your pulled pork sandwich tomorrow, John.”
“Thank heavens, I don’t have time to look for a replacement wife, Dot,” Ryan teased.
“Laugh it up. See you tonight. You are coming home tonight?”
“Hope to.” He put his phone away and walked out into the common area and asked, “Does anyone know if Marley’s butcher shop was sold?”
He was greeted with blank stares.
“Thought so. Jones, when you finish with that report, swing over to Marley’s and see if you can round up the loose pig my wife claims is wandering around the lot.”
~
“You shouldn’t have given him that last beer,” Mia said, backing the cruiser around, parking it in the Sheriff’s Department lot.
“How was I to know that the dude hadn’t eaten since yesterday?” Cid complained.
Mia got out and helped Cid transfer a tipsy Tom to the passenger seat of his Mustang. She tossed Cid the keys and told him, “Drive him home. Ted’s at the hardware store. He’ll pick me up, and then we’ll come and get you at Tom’s parents’ house.”
“Great, you leave it to me to explain why her son is blotto,” Cid growled.
“Go, get, before someone comes out. I’ll return the keys inside,” Mia said and waited until Cid was safely out of the lot before entering the building. She walked in quickly and smack into a hard wall of flesh, otherwise known as John Ryan. “Pardon me, stranger,” she said, untangling her hair from the sheriff’s badge.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, once they were separated.
“I was just bringing Tom’s cruiser keys in. I was headed inside anyway and…”
Ryan looked at her, took the keys and walked over to the cruiser and opened the door. “Seems to me Tom’s legs shrunk.”
Mia cursed under her breath. “K, you got me. I was out joyriding in the car and…”
“Mia,” Ryan warned with his voice.
“Truth is, we didn’t know Tom had an empty stomach. Beers were involved, and we couldn’t let him drive drunk.”
Ryan looked at her earnest face and chuckled. “If you driving Tom’s cruiser for him were the biggest violation today, I’d be a happy man. I’ve had a hell of day, you?”
“Not bad considering we had a visit from the cops this afternoon.”
Ryan ignored her comment. “Do you have any idea why Gerald Shem would sell the hollow to a fracking mining concern?”
“What?”
“Guess not. But Maynard… Wait a minute, that’s the name of the soul-jumper’s target, isn’t it?”
Mia nodded.
“Shit, hell and damn!” Ryan turned around a moment and collected himself. “It’s all falling into place now. Thaddeus Maynard the Third was targeted because he had the money and power to buy the hollow out from under Shem. He’s already fenced in the property, at least the road frontage. He’s got armed guards in place. There’s no way we’re going to get in there unless we hoof it through the trees, and that’s trespassing. Something I’m not ready to ask of my deputies, considering the armed thugs.”
“We’ve been in worse situations, John, and we also have resources,” Mia said, trying to comfort the man and herself at the same time.
“I’ve got a farmer who’s missing his goats and his truck, a prize pig wandering around the parking lot of Marley’s, and this nagging feeling I haven’t heard the last of the weirdness tonight.”
Ted pulled into the lot and drove over to where Mia was conversing with the sheriff. He pulled up and unrolled the window. “Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Don’t get me started, son,” Ryan said. “Mia, keep your cell phone close. Something is going on, and I fear it’s being directed from the hollow.” He opened the door for Mia and closed it after she got in. He watched as they drove off. He was walking over to his vehicle when he heard the sound of hooves on pavement. He took out his flashlight and shone it in the direction of the road. There, trotting down Main Street, big as brass, was Marley’s prize hog.
Cid closed the door quietly behind him. Tom’s parents were out, leaving the way clear to smuggle their tipsy son into the house. Tom had sobered up enough to request a glass of water before he fell asleep on the couch in the family room. Cid placed the glass on the side table, grabbed an afghan off the rocker and covered the deputy up. He moved quickly through the house and out the back door. He walked down the drive to wait for Ted and Mia on the sidewalk.
While he waited, he reflected on the past few days. Life wasn’t boring being a member of PEEPs. Danger went hand in hand with ghost chasing. As Mia was fond of saying, “Remember, Cid, what you can’t see can hurt you.” He’d had a few bumps and bruises but managed to heal fine. He hadn’t realized the true peril of his new profession until Burt and Mia related their experiences in the hollow. Sure, some ghosts could be cruel or clumsy in communicating with the corporeal world. He’d made Burt an iron and silver chainmail vest to wear while filming to keep the lead investigator’s ribs intact. He himself had been tossed around as if he were a dog’s chew toy. But could he be killed? The answer was a resounding ye
s.
He pulled a hand through his blue-black hair and forced himself to stand straighter. Superman, even in his Clark Kent mode, stood tall in the face of danger, and so would Cid Garrett.
The truck’s lights swept the street as they pulled onto the quiet road that would bring them to the Bravermans’ house. Mia had been there a few times in her youth, trailing awkwardly behind Whit and his followers. Susan Braverman had always greeted her with a hug, transferring her strength into the awkward teen. Mia smiled, remembering how the woman would hand her a tea towel to dry the dishes while she washed them. Together they would discuss local gossip and current events. Eventually, they would end up talking about the Chicago Bears, which was Susan’s favorite subject. Mia, who had only previously attended the high school football games to see her crush Whitney Martin excel as quarterback, hadn’t really been interested in football. But after an enthusiastic tirade about the coming Green Bay/Chicago game, Tom’s mother made a convert of Mia. Mia looked up stats and watched the game in order to hold up her end of the conversation with Susan the next time they met. Somewhere along the way, she fell in love with the sport.
“Zero point zero one nine four six five zero dollars for your thoughts,” Ted said, wrapping an arm around the back of Mia’s shoulders.
“Zero what?” Mia asked.
“The present value of a penny,” Ted answered.
“Oh, so the penny is actually worth two cents? So when I’m giving you my two cents worth, I’m actually just giving you a penny?”
“No you would be giving me four cents, almost,” Ted clarified. “You’ve been pretty quiet. Lost in thought?”
“I just got pulled into the past.”
“Bad thoughts?”
“Oh no, good memories. I know I had it rough, but there were kind people along the way. The Bravermans were those kind of people. Tom’s mom is very special.”
“Probably one of the reasons Tom won’t move out,” Ted said, pulling the car over next to where Cid was standing.
Cid opened the door and got in. “How’d it go at the station?”