by Aiden James
“Yeah,” said David, smiling weakly. “It would probably be better to wait until tomorrow, I imagine.”
“Definitely tomorrow,” John agreed. “I have two tours in the morning and another at one-forty-five in the afternoon. We can plan to leave around three if you like.”
“All right,” he said. “Did you want to meet here?”
“It would work better if we meet at the park station, since it will be less of a drive from there,” advised John. “We could be in Rocky Grove by three-thirty at the latest. It would be best if we found her place before the sun goes down.”
He didn’t have to explain why. If violently disposed as the young man seemed on the phone, two strangers creeping around in the dark would be asking to get shot.
David gave John his phone extension at the Whitestone. He also gave him his mobile number, and John gave him his office numbers and his home listing. John explained how his granddaughter tried to purchase a cell phone for him, but since he was never far from either his radio or office he couldn’t justify having one.
David returned to Gatlinburg, and after stopping for dinner at the same steakhouse he and Miriam visited two weekends ago, he returned to his room at the Whitestone. The room still reeked of mildew and stale cigarette smoke, but at least the maid service had put forth a better effort to cover these odors with a cinnamon-scented deodorizer. Even so, the unmistakable blood scent from the previous night’s misadventure hung in the air above the bed he slept in.
David set his coat and briefcase on the table and turned on the heater. He left the TV on CNN with the sound barely audible, he moved over to the phone on the nightstand and sat down on the opposite bed. With his back against the headboard he stared at his reflection in the dresser mirror across the room while he waited for Miriam to pick up on the other end of the line.
“Hello, baby.” Her voice sounded softer than usual.
“Hi, darlin’,” he replied, aroused by how she addressed him.
“How did everything go today?”
“Well, Allie’s niece seemed upset once I told her about the bag, and then her grandson threatened my life,” said David. “But the beef vegetable soup from the lunch bar at Shoney’s was real good.” He chuckled at his own lame joke.
“I told you the idea of contacting her family wasn’t a good one!” Her tone changed to worry. “Why don’t you take the bag back where we originally found it and be done with this whole mess?”
“I need to try one other idea first,” he said. “John and I are driving to Allie’s niece’s home tomorrow afternoon, and we’re taking his official park cruiser. It should make her and her grandson more receptive to us.”
“And if the grandson tries to kill you, then what?” she asked, more fear than irritation in her voice. “Is John bringing Chuck Norris along, too?”
“That’s not a bad idea!” He laughed. “Don’t worry. If it gets too hairy, I promise we’ll leave immediately. I’ll take that damned bag straight to the ravine and head down to Chattanooga.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” he agreed. “So…. Is anything new on the home front?”
The line grew silent, and for a moment he wondered if she had set the phone down. He could hear Janice playing with Jillian and Christopher in the background.
“Miriam?”
“I’m here,” she said. “David, those detectives stopped by here this afternoon. Sara was present when they came.”
“They did?” He hoped the detectives would wait long enough for him to return to Denver before showing up again. Dismayed this wasn’t the case, it also brought his grief back to the forefront “What did they want this time?”
“I think before we spoke today, they considered you a likely suspect in Norm’s death,” she told him. “I told them everything about Allie Mae’s ghost and what our family went through last week.”
“Oh.” The only response he could muster. To her credit, sharing a tale like this with two detectives from a well respected police department took a lot of courage. “What did they think of that?”
“You should’ve seen them, David,” she said. “At first, they grilled me about your whereabouts the night Norm died, as well as questions about your character. They really pissed me off, but I answered their questions patiently. I tried to get them to answer a few of my own, which they skirted around. They were about to leave, and I don’t know what prompted me to tell them about everything else that’s happened in our house. Maybe it was the looks on Janice’s and Sara’s faces, since I could tell they were dying to say something.”
“So by ‘everything’, did you also include the stuff that happened to us in Gatlinburg?” He hoped she summarized things succinctly, knowing every instance could generate dozens more questions from the police.
“Yes,” she said.
“Oh, God,” he sighed, massaging his brow while he pictured the detectives’ reaction. “What did they say, then?”
“They didn’t laugh, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Her irritation shifted to him. “They listened to everything I had to say. And the smirks on their faces when I first started talking disappeared before I was halfway finished.”
David sat in silence, staring at his reflection across the room.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued. “But, I’m right about this much: They at least believe something very strange has happened to the Hobbs family and their friends. The questions they asked afterward confirm it. It’s like they were no longer worried about your immediate whereabouts. Instead, they spent the rest of their time asking Janice, Sara, and I for detailed descriptions of what we’ve all heard and experienced. Why in the hell would they take time to do that if they didn’t believe at least some of what I told them?”
“You’ve got a point,” he said. “So, are they sending their buddies out here to come pick me up?”
“No,” she assured him. “Detective Colby told me he wouldn’t bother us until you’re back in town. And, I overheard him tell his partner, Detective Kenyon, what I said might be worth looking into since they haven’t been able to trace the fingerprints they’ve found to any known felons or other suspects. I’m sure neither one realized I was in earshot when he said that.”
“You handled this situation better than I would have,” he told her, hoping she wouldn’t stay irritated with him. “What did Sara have to say?”
“Well, after today’s visit to our house, she said the place is ‘ghost free’,” said Miriam. “She’s convinced more than ever the entity is after you. It scares the hell out of me for your welfare.” She seemed on the verge of tears again.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, knowing he might never share his experience from last night with her.
“You better call me immediately after you visit Allie’s niece tomorrow afternoon!”
“I promise.”
He hated telling her goodbye, especially not knowing how long he’d continue being away from home. After he hung up the phone, he gazed again at his reflection in the mirror until his eyes began to blur. Exhausted, he started to drift off where he sat, with his back leaning against the headboard. He awoke when the mirror stand rattled.
All quiet in the room, with only the steady hum of the heater and the muted drone from the TV, he frowned at the thought his mind might play additional tricks on him. It could only worsen the affect of anything new Allie Mae had in store. He decided to get busy working on the reports again. But the lack of rest had taken its toll, and he found himself nodding off and having to erase pencil lines.
Rather than fight it any longer, he closed up his reports and threw them back inside his briefcase. He then opted for another hot shower, hoping to remove the last of the unseen nastiness he felt clinging to his skin. When the water lost its heat he stepped out of the tub, and for a moment listened to his next door neighbors moving heavy furniture inside their room. It wasn’t until he pulled on his underwear that he realized the commotion actua
lly came from within his own room.
David hurriedly grabbed his bathrobe, tying it at the waist while he stepped into his slippers. With his towel still in hand he opened the bathroom door and walked into the main room, as steam from the bathroom followed him. He moved past the washstand and closet, noticing the room had grown cold again despite the heater’s steady hum. All of the lights were off.
The television’s cord was nearly pulled out from the wall, brought over on its stand to where it faced the bed closest to him, the one he slept in last night. The screen aglow with distorted lines and images, the set’s speaker hissed with static. This had been done to show him something, despite the room’s dimness.... A symbol similar to what was left in his and Miriam’s bedroom in Littleton now encircled his bed at the Whitestone. Hemlock twigs and leaves extended from the wall on one end of the bed to the nightstand on the other.
Like the original arc in Colorado, Allie Mae’s bag of treasures sat in the middle of the bedspread. White duck feathers formed a cross beneath it, and a number of white lilies, stems intertwined with one another, formed three perfect circles upon the cross. The bag sat in the center of the cross, while the three circles overlapped it and one another perfectly.
Splattered crimson crisscrossed the length of the bedspread in deliberate swirls. It would be pointless telling the night manager that another nosebleed visited him again. Without time to formulate a better plan, David relied solely on his instinct. He dropped the towel and quickly exchanged it for an extra pillow and blanket from the closet next to the bathroom. Then he bolted for the door, pausing long enough to grab his wallet, car keys, coat and briefcase before lunging outside.
Slamming the door behind him, out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow descend from inside the doorway. The spirit had watched him from the ceiling, like a spider studying its prey. She would’ve blocked his escape had he waited any longer. An immense thud slammed against the door from the other side, shaking the wall and window of his room. A light came on in the room next to his and he heard the muffled voices of a man and woman. They pulled their curtain back.
David ran to his rental car, his slippers scraping across the broken pavement. He climbed inside and started the engine, and by the time his neighbors came out of their room he had already left the premises of the Whitestone Motel. Unsure if they saw his exodus, without a doubt Allie Mae did.
Small streams of water dripping down his forehead, he glanced back at his room when he reached the parking lot’s exit. The heavy curtain drawn back, sheer draperies shrouded the room’s contents. The lights back on, a girl dressed in a long blue dress stood looking out the window. Even from the exit, he could tell her beautiful strawberry-blond mane covered much of where her face should be. But where no hair, there wasn’t a face either. Just a deep shadow.
He shuddered and looked away. Pulling onto Gatlinburg’s main drive, he prayed fervently to find someplace safe. A place where she’d never find him.
Chapter Thirty-one
Thursday Morning. Sunlight trickled into the LeSabre’s backseat. The clock on the dashboard read 7:06 a.m. and the parking lot of a popular pancake house on Gatlinburg’s illustrious drive was already full. Awakened by the sound of a car door closing nearby, David peeked through the back passenger window. He watched a family exit their SUV and head toward the large cabin-styled restaurant, the youngest children skipping across the pavement.
Finding a place to hide and sleep last night proved arduous. After visiting more than a dozen area hotels and other restaurants he finally happened upon the deserted back lot of this establishment. Impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep in, no way in hell would he go back to the Whitestone while darkness presided.
His stomach growled and he crawled back into the front seat. Realizing he could do little about his hunger or anything else in his bathrobe and slippers, he grabbed his sunglasses from atop the driver’s side visor and started the engine, and soon drove out of the parking lot ignoring curious looks from the restaurant’s patrons.
Forced to return to the Whitestone to get his clothes, the motel’s parking lot was mostly deserted. David parked the car in front of his room and cut the engine. The air crisp and cool, it would change by mid-morning if the sky remained clear. He approached the room’s door, noticing the heavy curtain in the window were drawn shut. Cautious, he inserted the key and pushed the door open.
The room dark, he stepped inside and moved over to the light switch. He flipped it on. The spirit had left a terrible mess. The table and chairs had been knocked over and the mattress from the other bed thrown aside, they obscured the TV and its overturned stand. The clothes from inside his suitcase covered the room and the shirts and pants he hung from the clothes rack lay haphazard on the floor next to the bathroom. The mirror on the dresser leaned forward, sucked into the room by energy from the wraith’s tantrum, and the dresser and nightstand drawers hung precarious on their hinges.
Even the phone book wasn’t spared her wrath, having been torn into two uneven pieces. The bathroom in similar disarray, only the Gideon Bible in the top drawer of the nightstand went untouched. He worried about the damages he would owe the motel. But after lifting the mattress back onto the bed and discovering the TV survived and amazingly worked, he breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the furniture in no worse shape than when he first rented the room two days earlier, the spirit restrained her wrath to his belongings.
Afraid she might return at any moment, he hurriedly sifted through his torn clothing, finding a lone T-shirt and pair of dress slacks that escaped her attention. He grabbed his hiking boots, only slightly torn, and dressed while glancing warily around him. Then he set the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign so the maid service would ignore his room until he returned. He recalled seeing a Wal-Mart in Pigeon Forge, and when he got back in his car he headed west on the main drive.
He picked up a few shirts and jeans, and other necessities to last the rest of his stay in Tennessee. At the checkout line he added a disposable camera, thinking it would not only provide proof of Allie Mae’s latest handiwork but also insurance should the Whitestone try to sue him for more compensation than he intended.
David discreetly changed into new clothes once he got to his car, and then drove back to Gatlinburg. On a whim he checked the first few hotels in the area and found a two-night vacancy at one of the EconoLodge resorts on the strip. After bringing the items he purchased into his new room, he grabbed the camera and returned to his car. When he arrived at the Whitestone, he accosted one of the maids cleaning a room near his, handing her a ten for a handful of large trash bags. He returned to his room, armed and ready to clean everything quickly and be on his way.
He inserted his key in the door, but noticed the curtains were now open. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign remained on the doorknob, making it unlikely the maid staff had visited his room. He peered through the window...it looked like nothing had been disturbed in his absence. Quietly, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The room seemed much colder than earlier, and the mist from his breaths floated toward the ceiling. He grabbed a chair to prop the door open, and began taking pictures of everything. The disposable camera’s flash filled his vision with bright dots that lingered while he moved throughout the room. When he tried to take a direct shot of the bloody shrine on the bed, however, the flash didn’t work. He tried it again, it still didn’t go off. Fearing it unwise to stay much longer, he cleaned the mess.
Three bags filled quickly with paper debris and his destroyed wardrobe. Next, he carefully lifted “Allie Mae’s Treasures” off the bed and placed it in his coat pocket. The entire bedspread and bloodstained linens he dumped inside two more bags. A plastic mattress cover kept the blood from seeping down further, and after wiping it off with a mangled towel from the bathroom, one last bag took care of everything else. He had just carried the bags out of the room and into the LaSabre’s open trunk when the chair holding the door open flew into the room. The door
slammed shut and the curtains closed. A girlish, sardonic chuckle filled the air around him.
“Ya think yer so-o-o clever!” the voice taunted, gleeful. “‘Just run along and enjoy yer day, Billy Ray-y-y-y! We’ll be meetin’ up again r-r-e-e-al-l-l soon!!”
The words swirled around him and the air’s temperature rapidly dropped, where only a moment ago the late morning sunlight made him think he wouldn’t need a coat after all. Her unseen, icy presence moved closer, poised to do more harm. Rather than wait to find out what she had in mind next, he ran to the driver’s side of his car and nearly dived in. Her laughter filled the air in front of the windshield while he fumbled with the keys. The tires squealed when he pulled out of the parking space, which drew a reproachful look from the maid who gave him the trash bags and the housekeeper who stopped to watch from the second floor breezeway.
The car screeched to a halt when he reached the front office. David ran inside the office and agreed to pay tonight’s stay even though he had other accommodations. He tacked on another two hundred dollars to cover the bed linens and towels and then ran out of the office and jumped back in the car. The tires squealed even louder as he exited the Whitestone Motel’s parking lot, praying fervently he never saw this god-forsaken hell hole ever, ever again.
***
Quite shaken from the experience, David regained most of his composure by the time he arrived at the park station just before two-thirty that afternoon. Feeding his empty stomach helped, and he thought it only right to offer his patronage to the pancake house where he loitered uninvited last night. Afterward, he spent the next hour visiting the various arcades and gift shops on the strip while he waited for the morning’s pictures to be developed. Worried about Allie Mae’s determination to follow him, he half-expected her shadowed face and hideous ruptured eye to gaze at him in his rearview mirror as he drove to the park.
He arrived at the station before John, and used the opportunity to examine the pictures. Most of the images turned out fuzzy, likely on account of the poor light and cheap camera, yet several shots contained solid white orbs that Sara claimed could indicate a spirit’s presence.