Cid (Cid Garrett P.I. Book 1)

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Cid (Cid Garrett P.I. Book 1) Page 7

by Alexie Aaron


  “That’s a martial art trick, fresh pineapple,” Kiki said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Itchy. The stuff must be working because it itches like it’s healing.”

  “Fantastic. Now I don’t want you to come into work until the swelling is gone,” Kiki said seriously. “And with that said, for this evening, I’m no longer your boss.”

  Cid laughed.

  “Crazy day, huh,” Jesse said. “This renovation sure has its challenges. The boss is such a…”

  Kiki was about to say something, but realized she was being tested.

  “I see so much potential for the place,” Kiki admitted. “I’ve got a humungous budget but not enough to do everything I want. I’m settling on bringing it up to code, fixing the broken bits, and making sure one wing is ready by September. Hal is looking to have a place to hideaway the last quarter of the year so he can work on next year’s big thing, whatever that is.”

  “He seems to have his finger on the pulse of the world,” Cid said. “His products are everywhere.”

  “He hires the best people and pays them well. He’s a genius but also a great manager. Usually, smart guys are clueless when it comes to interpersonal communications.”

  “Ted still doesn’t have a clue,” Cid said. “But Mia is no better. The two of them seemed to have been made for each other.”

  “To geniuses!” Jesse raised his takeout cup.

  “To geniuses,” Cid and Kiki chorused.

  ~

  She slowly approached the angry man on the steps. “Hello, my name is Faye, and I’m a bit lost here.”

  The brutish ghost stared right through her and continued to fume.

  “Hello, Mr. Grumpy,” Faye said, waving her hand in front of the ghost’s face. “Huh.” Faye jumped up and down and created a shrill whistle by putting two fingers in her mouth.

  The ghost continued to stand there.

  “Are you a ghost or just pretending to be?” she asked. She put her hand on the man’s shoulder, and aside from a nasty shock of electricity on her end, the ghost didn’t feel a thing. “How extraordinary.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” a voice said behind her.

  Faye turned around to see the most unusual being hanging down through the ceiling. It didn’t have any eyes, but Faye knew it could see her. “Hello, I’m Faye.”

  “Welcome to my home, Faye,” the demon said, smiling widely.

  “You have a beautiful smile, sir.”

  “I’m no sir. You can call me Teeth. It’s not my name, but I like it.”

  “Well, Teeth, I’m a bit puzzled. I’ve just spent half a century or more in the bottom of that well, and now I’m free. What gives?”

  “I can’t answer that. You’ll have to figure it out on your own.”

  “Why can’t that man see or hear me? Isn’t he a ghost?”

  “He’s dead, and I guess he’s a ghost, but he died by suicide. He’s in his own private hell. Nasty creature, very angry, and very dangerous.”

  “Except to me because I’m dead.”

  “Yes. That’s one way to look at things. There are others here. You may find them a wee bit more welcoming.”

  “I’m not sure I’m staying,” Faye said. “I was hoping for a light or gilded stairway or something.”

  “Maybe your time came and went?”

  “Raspberries, you mean I missed it?” Faye asked.

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Do you mind if I hang around until I figure this out?”

  “No, just don’t destroy the place. I’d hate to have to rip your soul into shreds and burn each fiber slowly, painfully…”

  Faye raised her hands. “I got the picture, Teeth.”

  “Good, I’m glad you do,” he said and moved back through the ceiling.

  Faye sat on the steps. “Well, Faye, you’re not in Kansas anymore. How the hiccup did I get here?”

  ~

  Cid waited until Jesse and Kiki had left before grabbing his keys and hobbling over to his truck, checking to make sure it was secure. He wasn’t on the farm anymore with Murphy prowling around to keep all within the buildings and their valuables safe. He opened the truck cap and looked around. His tools were all still there, and all was well, with the exception of the balled-up knot of wet clothes. He grabbed the bundle and walked back into the cabin. He looked at the time. The laundry was open all night; that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the kind of patron he would meet at that time. His compulsive nature to have everything clean and in its right place took over. He grabbed the basket, soap, softener, and roll of quarters and headed out the door.

  He passed Kiki’s cabin. He saw she still had her light on. Probably burning the midnight oil.

  Cid found the laundromat deserted. Most of his crew had an early alarm to answer, so they would be asleep. He expected the contractors and truckers had already been and gone by the beer cans stacked in the recycling bin. The place smelled strangely of bleach, beer, and stale cigarettes.

  Cid loaded the washer. He checked his jean pockets and extracted eighty-five cents. He would hate to be Mia doing Ted’s laundry. He kept a full junk drawer in his pockets. Cid pulled his shirt out of the basket. It smelled sour, so he spread it out on the counter looking for the source of the odor. He found some rust and clay from the outside of the well. He grabbed the shirt and howled as he pricked his finger. He turned the shirt over and opened the pocket while sucking on his injured finger.

  A beautiful emerald and diamond broach toppled out onto the counter. The stones sparkled in the glaring florescent lights overhead. The settings were dark from years of setting in that well, and a piece of cloth was caught up in the back of the pin. Cid dumped out his soap from the plastic bag, turned it inside out, and stored the pin inside, twisting the top and securing it with a clothespin. He set it back in the basket, momentarily forgetting it while he set up his load to wash.

  Faye felt a strange pulling. It moved her through the house. She tried to avoid being pulled through the walls and ran around looking for easier exits. Soon she found herself outside. The moon was full, and the pull became stronger. She sighed and let whatever was pulling her take control. It took too much energy to resist.

  Kiki didn’t want to seem too eager, but she didn’t want to seem too aloof either. What was she doing? She wasn’t a game player. She typed in the url and connected with Jake promptly when the digital clock turned 10:00PM.

  Jake: Hello, Kiki, how was your day?

  Kiki: I fell in a well. I thought you would have heard by now.

  Jake: I overheard Mia talking to Ted about it, but I thought I’d ask you personally, as it happened to you.

  Kiki smiled. She liked this Jake. She typed the whole account to Jake, right up to Mia and Judy leaving.

  Kiki: Do you have an airport nearby?

  Jake: Why?

  Kiki: Seems to me that Judy flew here and back rather fast.

  Jake: There are a few grass strips handy. Would you like to watch a movie?

  Kiki: As long as it’s your choice tonight.

  Jake: Have you seen Labyrinth?

  Kiki: Not since I was a kid, you?

  Jake: I like to revisit things as an adult. Get a different perspective.

  Kiki: Great idea.

  Kiki settled under the covers and pulled the laptop up close and waited for Jake to set up the chat function of the movie app. She reached over and turned off the bedside table light. This would signal to whomever was stuck watching out for her tonight that she was going to sleep.

  The movie started.

  Jake: Jennifer Connelly, what a babe.

  Kiki: Still is, you want her phone number?

  Jake: Already have it on call block.

  Kiki: Clever.

  Cid transferred his clothes to the dryer, tossed in the appropriate amount of coins to start it and a few to get his jeans through the drying cycle. He would pull his shirt out as soon as it went from thump thump to flying around inside the dry
er. He wanted it to hang as soon it went from wet to damp. He pulled up the plastic chair, propped his feet on the dryer wall, and stared into the swirling mass of tumbling clothes.

  The lights dimmed. Cid looked around and checked his watch. Maybe they were on a timer. Only half of them were functioning now. It wasn’t a problem. He wasn’t reading. There was enough light to fluff and fold by. He sat back down and stared into the dryer.

  The dryer stared back.

  Cid backpedaled, pushing the chair away from the glass doors.

  “Stupid, it was my reflection. Probably the light change,” he voiced aloud.

  He walked up, opened the door, pulled his shirt out, and started the dryer again. Cid took the plastic hanger and arranged the damp shirt on it. He buttoned all the buttons including the pockets. He remembered the pin and pulled it out of the basket and stared at it through the plastic bag.

  “It’s a woman’s pin. Very expensive. Probably an old lady’s or a floozy…”

  “Floozy!”

  Cid turned around and sought out the voice.

  “Come on, Jesse, fun is fun.”

  Cid searched the room, but no one was there. Could it have been his own voice bouncing back at him?

  The dryer buzzed, and he reached in and pulled out the remaining clothes. He folded the boxers and undershirt. The jeans were still damp, but he would pin them on the hanger and they would be dry by morning. He grabbed the basket and walked out of the laundry.

  The air was cool, but it felt good. The laundry had been too hot. Cid passed Kiki’s room and, soon, was opening the door to his room. He hung up the clothes on the door jamb of the bathroom. He put the underwear in the chest of drawers. The broach he pulled out of his pocket and took a few pictures of with his cell phone before placing it back in the bag. He locked it in his toolbox that he kept inside his room because of the valuable rare woodworking tools he had in there.

  Cid sent the pictures to Jake with an explanation. He was surprised that Jake didn’t answer right back. But he could be on a PEEPs call. Cid set his phone on sleep mode, took off his clothes, pulled off the socks he wore to the laundry, and examined his feet. The bandages were secure, so he didn’t pull another pair of socks on. Cid crawled under the covers and soon was fast asleep.

  Jake started to run a search on the broach but stopped when the movie ended.

  Jake: What did you think?”

  Kiki: There is so much innuendo and commentary in it. I’ll digest it overnight and talk to you tomorrow. I’m fading fast.

  Jake: Have a good night.

  Jake watched as Kiki closed the laptop. He had managed to shut off the green indicator light that the web cam was on. He moved to Cid’s cell and looked at the room he was in. Cid had a bad habit of keeping his phone face up.

  There was a green glow coming from the far corner of the room. Jake couldn’t tell if it was from a neon sign outside or something paranormal. He set the phone to film and went about his chore of investigating the emerald and diamond pin.

  The glow stayed in the corner. Faye was seething at being called a floozy by the shoeless man who had her pin locked in his toolbox. She tried to move away from the room, but the pull of the broach was too strong. She did manage to get just outside the wall and move around outside. It wasn’t seemly to be inside a man’s bedroom. That’s what had gotten her into this situation in the first place.

  Chapter Eight

  Cid pulled into the diner and parked with the other recognizable trucks. He found a good portion of the crew monopolizing the two large tables in the back. He stopped at the counter.

  “What can I get you, hon?” the plump, veteran waitress named Shirley asked.

  “Could I get a large black coffee and a sausage sandwich to go?” Cid asked.

  “Sure thing. Give me ten for the sandwich. Here’s a cup, why don’t you serve yourself. I’ve got the wild bunch to serve.”

  Cid walked behind the counter and poured himself a cup and proceeded to refill the truckers’ cups at the counter while he was at it.

  “Where’s Shirl?” one asked.

  “This is my love child, Hank. Can’t you see the family resemblance?” the petite bottle-blonde asked.

  Hank was wise and kept his comments to himself.

  “Well, since you’re so handy with that thing, refill the wild crowd, and I’ll have the cook throw in some crispy taters for free.”

  Cid smiled and took hold of the decaf carafe with his other hand and walked over.

  “Hero! Look how far you’ve fallen,” Pete said, lifting up his cup to be filled.

  “Fame is so fleeting,” Cid replied, working his way around the table refilling coffee.

  “Unleaded please,” Walrus said. “I’ve got to go in the west attic and put in a new thermostat for the exhaust fans.”

  Cid poured the decaf. “Want me to go with you?”

  “Nah, I’m a big boy. Besides, Kiki promised me the 4th off if I get it done today.”

  “Just explain what you’re doing, take some redshirts with you, and you’ll be fine,” Cid said.

  “Red shirts? Oh, you mean the nonunion guys?”

  “Not exactly, but go with it.”

  Walrus nodded his head.

  Cid returned the pots, and Shirley showed him how to set up the machines to brew more. “Here’s the secret.” She took out a shaker. “It’s got a little cinnamon and a wee bit of Columbian cocoa.”

  “Ah, good to know.”

  “You married, hon?” Shirley asked.

  “No, but I have been called the other wife by my best friend’s non-cooking spouse.”

  “Sounds like she’s living the dream. Two men…”

  “Come on, Shirl, you got us,” protested the same outspoken trucker Cid had dealt with.

  “Oh gee, I forgot. Where are you when the mortgage is due?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

  Hank emptied his cup and got up quickly. He tossed money on the counter and left.

  Shirley winked at Cid, picking up the two-hundred-percent tip. “Now let’s see if I can work some guilt into Harvey over at that table.”

  Cid laughed.

  “Sausage taters to go!” the cook said and hit the bell.

  By the time the ping faded, Shirley had rung up Cid and smiled as, he too, left a hefty tip.

  Cid finished installing the new trim board in the ladies’ library. He inspected the shelves, carefully transporting armfuls of books off the shelves, examining the woodwork for insect activity. He ran his bare hand along the shelf checking for any popped nails.

  He repeated this procedure shelf by shelf. By the time he was finished, his legs burned from climbing the ladder. He wrote up a work card on what he had done and walked over to the office to drop it off.

  Kiki was sitting, running some numbers when Cid walked in.

  “Oops. I didn’t think you were coming in. I should have knocked,” Cid apologized.

  “I’m confining my activities to the office for today. Tomorrow, I’m going to do a high dive off the fourth-floor scaffolding into a wheelbarrow full of water.”

  “What time will that be?” Cid said, pulling out his cell phone.

  “Ah, a scheduler, I like schedulers. Speaking of, how’s the east library?”

  “Finished. I checked out the bookcase too. No bugs, no rot, no popped nails.”

  Kiki nodded, impressed. “What the Fuck and Holy Shit aren’t ready for you in the east sitting room yet. It would be a good time for you to take care of that vortex thingy the demon talked about.”

  Cid smiled.

  “What?”

  “Most people would try to forget that conversation ever happened.”

  “Alright, I can see that you don’t know me that well. I’m not most people. Paranormal, supernatural, alien landings, whatever. As long as I stay on schedule and under budget, I’m a believer.”

  “Would you mind if I took Jesse with me? These subbasements are hard to find, and vortexes are tricky. One wron
g move, and I could be halfway across the country explaining to some demon why I was in their wine cellar.”

  “Cid, shut the door.”

  Cid did so.

  “Take a seat.”

  Cid sat down.

  “Tell me more about what you’re talking about.”

  “Have you heard of ley lines?” he asked.

  “Yes. Magnetic lines in the earth that ancient people traveled once upon a time. They are supposed to be power points for the occult.”

  “Yes, but they are also high-speed ways for paranormal beings to travel. In some places, there are demon lines underneath the lines others travel. The vortex that the house demon spoke about will suck you in and, depending on the line, pull you along until the end. Only demons understand how to exit the lines underground. The lines on top, my friend Murphy says, you can pretty much tumble out of.”

  “Amazing. How come we don’t get pulled into the aboveground lines?”

  “You have to be a spectral being. A ghost, a bilocated person, or something along those lines, excuse the pun.”

  “Thank you. I’ll wait for your report. I sent Walrus up to the attic.”

  “I heard.”

  “He was pushing me for the 4th off, so I gave him a personal challenge.”

  “Facing one’s fear is a tricky thing,” Cid warned. “Be careful. Playing with others’ fears could backfire.”

  “I like playing God, Clark,” Kiki said and returned to her balance sheet.

  Cid and Jesse searched the basement which ran the length of both wings. There were two sets of stairs, eight sump pumps, a wine cellar, six storage rooms, and several rooms dedicated to air management. Walrus’s crew had been all over the basement putting in new ductwork and bringing the plumbing up to code.

  “I’m about to go and ask the man upstairs to show me how to get into the subbasement,” Cid confessed.

 

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