by Alexie Aaron
“I disagree, too many fancy ones. Give me old-fashioned chrysanthemums anytime,” Jesse insisted.
“But look, there’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy symbol. How the hell do they do that?” Cid asked.
“I bet your friend Ted could figure it out,” Jesse said.
“No. Mia won’t allow us to fool around with fireworks.”
“Why?” Kiki asked.
“It’s a strange reason. You see, PEEPs’s mouthpiece Mike has warned us repeatedly that when, not if, Ted blows himself up, he gets Mia.”
Kiki started laughing.
“I take it Mia isn’t interested in Mike?” Jesse asked.
“They’re buds, but that’s as far as it goes for Mia. Mike, on the other hand, I can’t vouch for.”
“A possible love triangle?” Jesse asked.
“Ted would kill them both,” Cid said seriously. “Mike has been pushing Ted’s buttons since they met.”
“Why do guys do that?” Kiki asked.
“Come on, Boss, you can’t tell me that Mimi doesn’t push your buttons,” Jesse accused.
“Good point. She starts on me about my love life within five minutes in every conversation.”
“Speaking of?” Cid asked. “What did you decide to do about Jake?”
“We’ve worked it out. Jake and I have an understanding.”
“I don’t know. These long distance relationships are a pain. You may want to rethink this,” Jesse said.
“Which brings me to you two. Spill it. Love life, lack of love life, are you two a gay couple?” she asked with a lifted eyebrow.
Cid laughed. “He’s not my type.”
“What,” Jesse started, “is your type?”
“You’re too whiny for my tastes.”
Kiki was enjoying the play between the two of them.
“Whiny. Well, you’re pedantic.”
“No truer words were spoken,” Cid said.
“Come on, one of you lugs must have landed a blind girl or guy?”
“I’ve been dating a young woman who works at a Barnes & Noble. She’s from a family of Marines, so we’re taking things very slow,” Cid said.
“No one,” Jesse confessed, reaching for another beer. “I was dating, but she didn’t want to wait around, and she definitely wasn’t the type to enjoy living in rural Wisconsin.”
“Life on the road is a hard one,” Kiki said. “By the way, I heard from Hal. He doesn’t want us to excavate the well, but if it becomes a crime scene, then he will okay the county coroner the use of the property. Hal believes in letting the dead lie undisturbed.”
“Do we have verification that there is a body?” Jesse asked.
“Bodies. The little ghost told me there are several bodies down in the well,” Cid said.
“The little ghost told you?” Kiki questioned.
“A young woman named Faye materialized in the small library,” Cid said and went on to describe the event in full detail.
“I’m getting the idea she doesn’t really know who she is or why she died,” Jesse said.
“She said she walked in on something, and the something got her killed. But she doesn’t know what or who.”
“Damn,” Jesse exclaimed.
“Jake has found gossip reports about the wild parties that this place saw when it was owned by the Hollywood people,” Kiki told them. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a Faye mentioned. Only the A-list stars were listed.”
“We could work on finding more clues while we’re trapped here,” Cid said. “Is the internet still going to be available?”
“The tower is scheduled to be completed in a few days,” Kiki told him.
“Who knew that it would take so long to put up,” Jesse said.
“They had trouble with the wind. A few times, the helicopter had to turn back,” Kiki said. “They dropped the piece of tower in some farmer’s field. I had to pay for the crop. Hal was not pleased.”
“So your job is to anticipate the weather and schedule helicopters accordingly?” Jesse asked.
“It’s why I get the big bucks.”
“Speaking of Hal, did you ask him what he wants to do with the dolls in the subbasement?” Cid asked.
“I sent him a video of the rooms, but he hasn’t said anything yet. He’s approaching a crucial deadline, and his mind is focused on that. I think we should inventory them and the contents of the workroom.”
“We as in, not me,” Jesse said firmly.
“Jesse hates two things. Creepy old dolls and clowns,” Cid explained.
“So creepy clown dolls are a no,” Kiki said, waving a rib bone.
“I’ll do it,” Cid volunteered. “I’m really good at detail work.”
“Job’s yours,” Kiki said.
They sat back and enjoyed the finales of the firework displays with exclamations of oohs and ahs.
After they carefully made their way down the ladder, the trio entered the house. The stillness was almost overwhelming. Cid heard little creaks and bumps, which he identified as mechanical. The new central air system with the three air handlers was performing well, but the ducts still needed attention. There was a rattle here and a popping there.
Kiki looked over at him. “Hear something?”
“I can hear a rattle in the duct to the kitchen, and the west wing’s air handler is popping. They may have to adjust that.”
“I’ll put it on Gut’s honey-do list,” Kiki said, typing it into her phone. “I don’t fault the crew because you can barely hear yourself think here during the day, let alone hear a rattling vent.”
“Shall I walk you to your truck?” Jesse asked.
“Why? I’m staying in the east wing with you guys.”
Jesse was a bit surprised.
“I’ve let my room at Rancho-clean-toileto go. I’m hoping now that we have air, more of you guys will take advantage of the finished rooms.”
“Won’t we get in the way of the decorator?” Cid asked.
“Not if you stay in the east wing. Leo will be concentrating on where Hal plans on living. The west wing will be for the family and the east for friends. He needs his privacy.”
“I suppose it will be an easier commute, but the diner is some ways away.”
“The kitchen is operational. The new appliances are the last to go in, so we might as well eat here and use the old ones until they have to be ripped out. I’ll be paying for the groceries; you guys just have to do the cooking.”
“Very shrewd. She saves on accommodations, and being onsite, she doesn’t need a security detail,” Jesse said to Cid.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Cid said honestly. “I’ll do my share of cooking. But I do think that we need to get away from the place from time to time. Otherwise, we’ll lose our minds.”
Kiki looked at Cid and asked, “Why would you lose your mind?”
“It’s very hard to work and sleep in the same place. It’s why a lot of homeowners end up in divorce court after a full renovation of their homes. Especially when they stay there. You need to get away from your work.”
“I didn’t think of that. I was just thinking on getting this job finished ahead of time and under budget.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Jesse said.
A crash preceded the sound of something bumping and sliding down the main staircase. By the time they got to the hall, the culprit, a six-foot ladder, lay at the bottom of the steps.
“Who left this on the stairs?” Kiki asked, trying to identify if it was used in painting or plastering.
Cid heard the faint tinkle of crystal and turned around to see the crate containing the chandelier moving.
“No no no!” he said, running across the room before whatever had control of the crate succeeded in pushing it over on its side.
Jesse and Kiki arrived on his heels. Each used their body weight to hold the floating end down.
Cid reached into his pocket and brought out a saltshaker. He emptied the contents of the small cylinde
r into his hand. “Guard your eyes,” he ordered before tossing it in the direction of the rising end.
The crate dropped with a thump.
“Get the big box of salt out of my bag in the contractor’s room,” Cid instructed Kiki while he and Jesse kept watch on the crate.
Kiki ran into the room, but to her dismay, she had no idea which duffle was Cid’s.
One of the bags shuddered before falling off the shelf.
Kiki took a chance and unzipped the bag to find the salt. She grabbed two boxes and ran back to the men.
Cid lifted the tarp and salted the floor under the massive chandelier before he recovered it and spread a thick line of salt around the expensive one-of-a-kind lighting fixture.
“That should keep this safe” he said.
Woosh! Ping! Woosh! Ping!
“What now!” Kiki complained.
Jesse could not believe his eyes. “There!” he shouted as he pulled Kiki behind him. “Nail gun!”
Cid looked around for something to protect them with. A metal tray slid across the floor. He picked it up and charged up the stars, holding it before him like a shield. The tray took a few hits before he was able to fling salt at whatever held the gun.
The battery-operated gun dropped, followed by a cry of pain. Cid continued to salt the air in front of him. He reached for the nail gun and pulled the battery out.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“GET OUT!” a male voice screamed. “GET OUT!”
Cid felt something being pushed into his back pocket. He reached around and found his spray bottle of holy water. He aimed for where the voice came from.
“GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OOOooooh,” the voice sputtered and faded away.
Two sets of booted feet charged up the stairs.
“Is it gone?” Kiki asked, panting.
“For now,” Cid said, looking at the spray bottle oddly. “First the tray, and now this…”
“What?” Jesse asked.
“Oh, sorry, it’s just that…” he stopped when Faye materialized behind the pair and put a finger to her lips and disappeared again.
“I didn’t think it would work,” he finished.
“What the hell was that?”
“I couldn’t see it, but it’s got to be dealt with before someone gets killed,” Cid said.
“Oh my God!” Kiki said.
“What!”
“There are nails in the stained-glass window!” she moaned.
Jesse and Cid looked across the hall and saw the cracked pane.
The stained-glass representation of Saint George fighting a dragon had two nails penetrating the artwork.
“Someone shot Saint George in the nuts,” Jesse said.
Cid started laughing. Kiki couldn’t help it and joined in.
Jesse grinned. “I think it’s just the one piece.”
I’ll have someone photograph it, and I’ll get it to my stained-glass guy before he leaves. Maybe it can be replaced onsite,” she said. “I’m not sure how I’ll explain it…”
“Don’t. Your guy will just assume a workman had an accident,” Jesse said.
“Clark, do you think it’s safe for us to spend the night?” Kiki asked.
“I’d pour some salt on the openings to your room, but I think you’ll be alright. It takes a lot of energy to maneuver things on this side of the veil. Plus, it’s got the salt and holy water to deal with. I think we may not see it for a few days, but don’t hold me to that. Hands on rails, people.”
“I’m going to brew some coffee,” Kiki announced. “And then I want you to school Scrub and me in ghosts, Clark.”
“I’d be glad to give you the benefit of my experience,” Cid said. “But I’m not a sensitive or an exorcist.”
“Do you think we need one?”
“Maybe. It depends on whether we can find the source of its strength and perhaps its backstory. Mia stresses, in dealing with the paranormal, that knowledge is power.”
“I’ve a few antiques I have locked away that might help,” Kiki said. “We did an inventory of books, and we found a few personal journals.”
“There isn’t a diary from a woman named Faye is there?” Cid asked.
“No, these were all written by men.”
The trio heard a disappointed sigh and the sound of slow footsteps retreating down the hall.
Chapter Sixteen
Kiki sat on the bed with her laptop propped up. She placed her hands on the keys and started typing. It took a while to relate everything they had found so far to Jake.
Jake: Cid salted you in?
Kiki: Yes. I think it’s going overboard though. I feel a bit silly.
Jake: No, don’t feel silly, feel safe. This entity on the stairs is very angry. There were many, many, unfortunate events after Kip and his wife passed on. Their children were lazy and foolish. They brought con men into their lives. The family fortune did not last long after that. One grandchild, a young woman named Gwen, disappeared. Her husband had to wait the full seven years to collect her insurance, and by that time, creditors had taken Hidden Meadow for nonpayment of some personal loans. It was sold to a Hollywood producer. That’s when the real trouble started.
Kiki: Trouble? What trouble?
Jake: One particularly unsavory character used the house as a giant casting couch. Young starlets were taken advantage of, and handsome young men found themselves forced to behave against their natural inclinations. The few that escaped were blackballed in Hollywood. The ones that continued found D-movie stardom but were soon burnt out from the drink and the drugs they were fed. Hidden Meadow was nicknamed Hidden Horrors.
“How long did this go on?” Kiki said, finding it too hard to type she was so upset.
The laptop speakers hummed a moment before Jake’s Marvin the Martian voice answered her, “Five years until the owner was killed in his home in California. He was stabbed fourteen times by an unknown assailant.”
“Do you think that this house is holding on to the anger of the fallen?” Kiki asked.
“I don’t know. I think that there is unrest in the house. How did you feel when you first entered it?”
“Like I was walking into an empty museum. There were all these dust sheets over the furniture. As I lifted them, I felt like the house began to wake up. Each time I walk in the door, I feel like I’m welcomed.”
“I think you answered your own question. Ask Cid about Roustan Rose.”
“Why?”
“It was a house that was caught up in a multidimensional evil, but PEEPs and their friends pulled it to safety. It’s in the process of being turned into a senior center and a beautiful wedding venue. In short, the house was saved.”
“Can I save this house?”
“Talk with Cid. You need to take the time to discover all the hidden secrets. Rest the angry soul on the stairs, and find out what happened to Gwen,” Jake advised.
“That’s a tall order.”
“Piece of cake. You have two PEEPs at your service.”
“You and Clark.”
“Don’t forget the other contractors. Each has probably dealt with a spirit of some kind on a renovation project somewhere.”
“You’re right. Thanks, Jake.”
“Kiki, please leave your phone or laptop on tonight. I would feel better…”
“Jake, can you feel?”
“I remember feelings and…” He stopped speaking.
“You don’t have to explain,” Kiki said. “I’ll keep the laptop facing the room and the iPhone facing the door.”
“Thank you, Kiki.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
“Goodnight, Kiki.”
~
Cid and Jesse walked through the main floor and made sure the doors and windows were all locked. Each took a wing and moved up and down the halls checking for anything unexpected. The west wing of the home was rapidly moving towards completion. The first two floors were ready for the decorator. The new air and plumbing were i
nstalled, and whatever fixtures that the decorator had ordered had also been fitted.
The third floor was a work in progress. Cid pulled a few electrical cords out that had been left plugged in. The rooms were smaller up here, and there were so many of them. Cid got the uncomfortable feeling of an old and aging hotel. “I have watched too many scary movies,” he said to himself. Looking down the hall, the old patterned carpet had yet to be ripped up. The old wallpaper hadn’t faded, except for the area by the window at the west end of the hall. It was a time capsule. Cid expected, at any moment, a lady’s maid to walk quickly by on an errand for her mistress. He was tempted to look into the rooms, but time was not on his side. If he didn’t appear at the head of the third floor stairs in a few minutes, Jesse would come looking for him.
Cid walked quickly down the hall and up the attic stairs to the fourth floor. The door was propped open. Jesse had mentioned the state of the dormers, and Cid wanted to see for himself. He flipped on the light and walked over to the windows, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. He saw the holes where Jesse had pulled the spikes from, and saw the state of the wood around the window. It was clawed. He turned and moved quickly, looking behind the door and searching the door and jamb for other claw marks but found none. He walked to the east wall and opened the built-in cupboards, looking inside the cupboard doors for any sign the creature was kept in this confining space. It too was free of claw marks.
“Why just the windows?” he asked, puzzled.
The air in the room dropped quickly in temperature. Cid’s exhales formed clouds as he frantically moved around waiting for the manifestation. “Where are you?” he said as the light went out. He clicked on his flashlight, and it was quickly drained. “So now you’ve eaten, show yourself!” he demanded.
The room was backlit with lost light, the pale-gray mist that follows the dead through the veil. Standing there in the middle of the room, between him and the door, was a thin woman dressed in a dirty, white nightdress. Her head was bent, and her long, oily black hair covered her face. She raised her head slowly. Her eyes were gone; the skin was torn around the sockets. Her face held the grin of a madwoman. “Let me out!” she screamed.
“The door is open,” Cid said. “You can leave now.”