by Terri Reid
“He dropped us off and then drove over to the hotel,” Mary explained. “He’s picking up Dee’s things so he can spend the night here. We figure he’ll be safer.”
Mary glanced at the clock. “Is Clarissa home yet?” she asked.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Rosie said. “You’re supposed to give Katie a call now that you’re home. She’s got Clarissa.”
Mary nodded. “Why don’t I just walk down the street and chat with her? I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said. “Why don’t you all start on the pizza while it’s warm.”
Mary walked down the street to the Brennans’ house. The Christmas decorations were already up, and Mary could hear the joyful noises coming out of the house. She climbed the stairs, grinned at the friendly snowman standing next to the door and rang the bell. A moment later, a slightly flour-caked Katie Brennan answered the door.
“Mary,” she exclaimed happily. She reached out and enfolded her friend in a hug, sharing a portion of the flour. Stepping back, she saw the white marks on Mary’s jacket and back.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Katie cried, brushing off the powder. “I totally forgot I was covered.”
Mary laughed. “It’s fine, Katie,” she said. “It’s only flour.”
Katie glanced over her shoulder and then stepped out on the porch, closing the door behind her. “I owe you big time,” she whispered.
“Why?” Mary whispered back.
“Well, our children might think Clifford is totally oblivious,” she paused and grinned. “Actually, sometimes I think Clifford is totally oblivious. But he did notice a slight variation of Maggie’s facial features this morning.”
Mary grinned. “Oh, so she was wearing makeup, too,” Mary said.
Katie nodded. “According to her father, she could have frightened some clowns,” she said, her voice soft. “And then he said she got a call from Clarissa. She trotted upstairs without saying a word, and before she left, she was our little girl again. So, what did you say?”
“I told Clarissa that you would find out. Moms always do,” Mary said with a smile. “That’s all it took.”
“I love being that feared,” Katie replied with a wide smile. “So, in celebration of our daughters doing the right thing, I thought I’d have them help me make Christmas cookies for the cookie swap next week. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure, that’s great,” Mary said. “That’s so nice of you.”
“Nice nothing,” Katie replied. “They are great at frosting the cookies, and I have to make dozens of them. So, it might be a late night. Does it work for Clarissa to spend the night?”
“Actually, that would be a bonus for me,” she replied. “I’m going to have to work tonight, so I won’t feel as guilty knowing that Clarissa is here having fun.”
“Perfect,” Katie said. “Okay, I better get back and save the cookies from my sons and husband.”
Mary smiled. “Should I go in and give Clarissa a hug?”
“She’s more covered in flour than I am,” Katie laughed.
“Oh, I don’t mind flour…” Mary began. Then her phone vibrated. “Excuse me for just a moment.”
She looked down and saw a message from Bradley. “We’ve got some issues.”
Then she looked up. “Well, work calls,” she said. “Would you please give Clarissa an extra hug for me?”
“I’d be happy to,” Katie said. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
Chapter Forty-six
“So, what’s up?” Mary asked as she walked into the house.
“When I went to the hotel, I asked Sherry about Ollie’s room,” Bradley said. “She told me that he was checking out in the morning.”
“He’s not going to be at the convention tomorrow?” Mary asked.
“He’s going to the convention,” Bradley said. “But his bags will be in his car, and he’ll be leaving for the airport right after.”
Slipping off her coat, she draped it on the back of the chair and walked into the living room where Dee, Ian, Stanley, and Rosie were gathered. Mike stood next to Bradley near the door.
Mary sat on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “Okay,” she said with a soft sigh. “The only thing we can prosecute him for is attempted murder, right? And the only way to do that is to search his room for the gun.”
“And the only way to do that,” Bradley said, “is have enough evidence to get a warrant from a judge. Stating that Dee’s mom didn’t show up on their meter isn’t going to do it.”
Mary nodded. “So, we need evidence to prove they did something at the asylum.” She lifted her hand towards Bradley when he was going to speak. “I know we can’t go to the paranormal research side of things, but we can speak to fraud. If they jammed equipment to try and prove their equipment, no matter what it’s for, is better, then they committed fraud. So, we have to get some readings at the asylum.”
“Aye, and we have to find out why they’re so interested in Dee’s footage,” Ian added. “There’s something in there they don’t want us to see.”
“So this means we go to the asylum tonight,” Mary said. “Dee, is that possible? Do we need keys?”
He shook his head. “No, the lock is a combination, and I still have it,” he said. “But I’ve got to warn you this place is out in the middle of nowhere, and when it gets dark, there is no residual light from anything.”
“We can do dark,” Mary said. She turned to Bradley. “What do you think?”
“Clarissa?” he asked.
“Spending the night at the Brennans and making Christmas cookies before this even came up,” she replied.
“You’ve just spent an afternoon wandering around an old farmhouse. Are you up to going to an asylum?” Bradley asked.
“I admit I’m a little tired,” she said. “But I think I need to be there. And with Ian and…” She looked around and met Mike’s eyes, and he nodded. “Mike, I won’t be outnumbered.”
“Oh, I’m going, too,” Gwen said, appearing next to Mike and smiling over at him. “You just let those asylum spirits try anything with us.”
Mary smiled and turned to Dee. “Your mom is coming, too,” she said.
“Well, then we have nothing to worry about,” Dee replied.
“I think we have the element of surprise,” Ian said. “I don’t think anyone would suspect that FART would be real investigators.”
“And they’ll be trying to get into Dee’s room at the hotel to find his footage,” Bradley said. “I took the liberty of gathering up about thirty thumb drives from the station and scattering them around your hotel room. That should keep them busy for a while.”
“Well, iffen you don’t mind,” Stanley said, “Rosie and I can stay here and watch this here footage and see what we can see. I’ve been trained you know…” He peered over at Dee. “Trained with a brain like a bear trap.”
“Rusty and easily tripped?” Ian asked casually.
“That ain’t funny, you whippersnapper,” Stanley grumbled, trying not to laugh. “Ain’t funny at all.”
“I can set up the computer to the television screen,” Bradley said. “So you can watch it in comfort.”
“The footage will have a timer running at the bottom of the screen,” Dee added. “If you see anything suspicious at all, just mark down the time, and then we can quickly forward to it and check it out.”
“What are we looking for?” Rosie asked.
“I’d say if it’s an outside shot, any vehicles in the area, people in the background, anything in the trees that looks odd,” Ian said. “And if it’s an inside shot, anything at all.”
“We can do that,” Stanley said. “We’ll get through as much as we can before you get back.”
Rosie walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a plastic storage container. “I’m packing up some pizza so you can eat on the way,” she said. “And all of you need to dress warm. The temperature is supposed to drop, and it’ll be even colder in an old, abandone
d building.”
Chapter Forty-seven
“Wow, that’s really creepy looking,” Mary said as she climbed out of the cruiser and stared at the old asylum.
The large, rectangular, stone building stood in the middle of an overgrown field with aging trees surrounding it, hanging over the roof and leaning against the outside walls. Weeds and vines, now brown and brittle, hung from its walls and sprung from the steps. Barred windows with a patchwork of glass behind them shimmered like fire in the last vestiges of the blood-red sunset. The eerie cry of an owl set the stage for a perfect, haunted encounter.
“I sure hope you’re taping this,” Ian whispered to Dee. “This is classic horror story.”
Dee, the camera on his shoulder and his eye in the view finder, nodded. “Yeah, this is really great stuff.”
Mary closed her door and walked in front of the car to the narrow trail that led from the road to the front steps of the building. “Mike?” she called softly.
Mike appeared immediately, his face sober. “This is not a good place,” he said. “It’s a place I normally would never send you into. There are just too many of them in there.”
“Okay,” Bradley said. “I want you to wait out in the car, and we’ll go in.”
Mike smiled at Bradley. “I love you, big guy,” he said, “but they can already feel her presence. You leave her out here alone, you’ll go into a big, empty building, and she’ll be stuck in a crowded car.”
Mary took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, let’s get in there, get some footage and get out,” she said. She turned and looked over her shoulder. Ian was pulling his chicken wire and a knapsack full of other equipment he’d put together out of the back. “Ready, Ian?”
“Aye, darling, ready,” he said.
She grabbed hold of Bradley’s hand. “At least, for a while, you can help me block them,” she said. “But I’m going to have to let go and see what’s going on once we’re in there.”
He squeezed her hand. “I won’t leave your side,” he said.
She nodded. “I know.”
Dee stepped up. “Let me go first,” he said. “I know the way, and with the night vision on the camera, I can probably see better than the rest of you.”
Gwen glided up next to him. “I got your back, sweetheart,” she said.
Dee stopped and turned back. “She’s here, right?” he asked Mary.
“Yes, she has your back,” Mary said.
“That’s my momma,” he replied with a smile. “That’s my momma.”
The house was about an acre away from the road. As they got closer, Mary felt pressure building, leaving her a little lightheaded.
“Are you okay?” Bradley whispered.
She nodded. “Yeah, I just feel like the air is thinner here,” she said. “It’s harder to catch my breath.”
“Funny you should use that word, thinner,” Ian said, walking alongside them. “The Celtic people used to call mystical places thin places. Places of energy. Places where the veil between this world and the next one is thinner than the rest of the world.”
“Good places or bad places?” Bradley asked.
“Aye, and there’s the question,” Ian replied.
They all stopped and stared at the building that loomed in front of them. The architect had been clever and used the wrought iron delicately along the front of the building, around windows and across balconies. Even the front porch was adorned with a vine of wrought iron that wrapped around the stone pillars and the concrete balustrades that ran the length and depth of the porch.
“It looks like a giant, black, spider web,” Mary whispered as goosebumps covered her body.
Dee stepped forward and nearly fell when the stone step beneath his foot crumbled. He caught himself and stepped over it onto the porch. “Be careful there,” he said, his look directed at Mary. She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile.
“I wonder if there’s a big, black spider waiting just inside for us,” Bradley mused.
Ian took a deep breath as Dee bent over and released the lock from the thick metal chain that wrapped between the wrought iron door handles. “And I’m afraid we are about to find out the answer,” he said soberly.
Dee paused and turned to Ian. “Do you want to hold the EMF meter, and I’ll man the camera?” he asked.
Ian nodded. “Aye, I’ll leave this near the door,” he said. “Perhaps they didn’t anticipate anyone returning, and we’ll have no need of it.”
He put the chicken wire and knapsack down and took the meter from Dee. “I’m ready,” Ian said.
“Okay, everyone,” Dee said. “The next thing I’m going to do is pull the chain from the door handles. Then I’ll open the door. Sometimes those first seconds inside are the most telling paranormal experiences we get. So, everyone be alert and be careful.”
Mary reluctantly pulled her hand out of Bradley’s warm grasp. He looked down at her. “If it gets to be too much,” he said.
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
Her heart pounding in her chest, she looked up at Dee and nodded. Like a steel snake, the chain slithered out from between the handles. Dee moved the chains beyond the doors so they weren’t a tripping hazard. “Okay, here goes,” he said as he pressed down on the door locks.
The doors sprang away from him, slamming up against the inside walls, causing plaster dust to rain down onto the floor. Dee and Ian moved inside quickly as Bradley helped Mary up the stairs and inside the building. No sooner had they stepped into the dark, desolate lobby than the doors creaked and slammed closed.
Ian took a deep, shuddering breath. “Well, now, you don’t see that every day, do you?”
“Hell, no,” Dee answered. “But it’s making great footage.”
Chapter Forty-eight
“Okay, once I get a little more footage, you guys have got to turn on your flashlights and take a good look at this place,” Dee said. “It’s definitely one of a kind.”
Mary turned on her flashlight, pointing it down to the ground, and surveyed where she was standing. The black and white tile was done in an art deco style, but it was larger and more industrial than the fancy tiles seen in old mansions. But even with industrial strength, many of the tiles were cracked and broken. She moved away from the group, shining her beam against the floor where it met the wall.
Turning, she saw the rest of the group was busy with Ian’s meter, but they weren’t that far away. She continued to explore, moving farther and farther away from them. A strange feeling came over her, as if she were being drawn to something. Finally, she found a doorway at the far edge of the lobby and presumed it must have been the reception area.
The door was oak and had a glass pane on the upper half, but the glass had been covered over with white contact paper, obscuring what was inside.
“How odd,” she whispered as she reached for the door knob.
“Mary! Stop!”
Mike’s voice shocked her, and she jumped away from the door as if she’d been burned. Her hand to her chest, she took a ragged breath. “Oh, wow, you scared me,” she stammered.
“What are you doing here, by yourself?” he asked.
“What?” she replied. “The others are just…”
She looked around the area and realized she didn’t know where she was. “I was just in the lobby,” she said to Mike. “I promise. I was just looking around the lobby. How did I get here?”
“That’s a good question,” Mike said. “But a better one is how do we get you out?”
“It can’t be that far,” Mary said. “It’s only been a few moments.”
“Mary! Mary!”
She smiled and felt relief rush through her body. “See, that’s Bradley calling,” she said to Mike. “I’ll just…”
“Mary, listen,” Mike said, his voice urgent. “Listen carefully. That’s not Bradley.”
Her throat dry and her heart pounding in her chest, she waited to hear the call again.
“Mary
! Mary, come here!”
A cold chill ran down her body, and her legs felt like lead. He was right. It wasn’t Bradley. “Mike,” she gasped. “Tell me this is a dream.”
“No, sweetheart,” he said. “This is a nightmare, and we’ve got to get you out.”
He looked around and then looked back at her. “This way, I think.”
“You think?” she squealed softly. “Why don’t you know?”
“Because when you’re in trouble, all I have to do is think of you, and I’m next to you,” he said. “I don’t have to do it the hard way.”
“Okay, sorry,” she gasped, hurrying after him and occasionally glancing over her shoulder. “Mike, why was I in trouble?”
“You don’t want to know,” he said, stopping in the middle of a crossed corridor. He looked down both sections, with dozens of steel doors opened into the hallway. “This way.”
She hurried after him, forcing herself to not look in the open rooms on either side of the hall. “Why don’t I want to know?” she asked.
“Sweetheart,” he began.
The scream stopped them both in their tracks.
Mary looked around. It was coming from everywhere, echoing throughout the building, a shrill, deafening scream of intense pain. “What’s happening?” she asked Mike. “Why is she screaming like that?”
“Mary…” Mike said.
“Don’t tell me I don’t want to know!” she yelled at him. She looked around the corridor and saw a light coming from one of the rooms. Without conscious thought, she turned and ran to the room.
“No!” Mike yelled, chasing after her. But it was too late.
“Oh, God,” Mary cried as she watched a doctor and his assistant hammer a metal object into the eye socket of a young woman tied to a chair.
She ran into the room. “Stop it!” she screamed. “Stop it!” But her flailing arms just went through the translucent bodies of the two men as they continued the torture. She looked down at the young woman, only a child. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t stop them,” Mary cried, tears running unchecked down her face.