They drove around to the front gate where fire trucks and squad cars were already pulling up. Their sirens blared only until they reached the property and then were turned off. The red and white lights continued to flare in circular orbits.
A group huddled well outside the area under the care of the fire team.
“What happened?” Zach asked to no one in particular as he walked up.
Sara had one cameraman filming the fire extinguishing. “We don’t know yet. Rebecca smelled smoke, we came outside and saw flames at the base of the tree and called the fire department. That’s all we know at this point.”
The flames were contained to just the one tree and were doused with seeming ease. Fortunately no one was injured, but aside from losing a century-old tree, the blaze was terrible news for conducting a quiet investigation. News teams most certainly would follow up on a fire at the infamous Rosewood Asylum, and finding both Xavier Paranormal Investigators and Demon Hunter crews was certain to cause a stir.
The Fire Chief came over and shouted for whoever was in charge. Both Zach and Sara approached him. Bryce laid low, apparently not wishing to tempt fate with his marijuana scented overcoat.
The firefighter could have been a lifeguard with a slick backwards hat. “Are you two’s the ones in charge here?”
Sara answered first. “Yes, we both are.”
“Well everything here appears to be taken care of. Since no structures were damaged, we don’t conduct a formal investigation, but do you folks happen to know how this fire started?”
“No,” Sara said. “Of course not.”
“Well, we didn’t find any cigarette butts in the vicinity. There was no accelerant used, no gasoline or nothing, I can tell ya that. I don’t suppose any of you kids smokes a pipe, do ya’s?”
Zach didn’t like the tone and implication of the way he said “pipe.” Sara was staring at Bryce. Zach glanced over at Pierre who was slugging down a beer. For the first time in a long while, he and Sara seemed to be on the exact same wavelength.
At the same time, they both answered, “No, sir.”
“The psychic is a’near!” Hunter shouted as he meandered up the Rosewood driveway. “Although I practically had to pull my ‘Obi-Wan Kenobi’ on the guard at the gate in order to get through.”
“Don’t film this yet,” Zach said to Sara before rushing to greet Hunter and embracing him in a hearty hug. “I’m glad to have you here, buddy.”
“This is really happening, eh? Rosewood Asylum.”
“Yes it is.” Zach pulled away from the hug and called back to Sara. “Are you guys about ready to film ‘The Talent’s’ entrance?”
She flashed him a thumbs up.
Before they began shooting, Hunter grabbed Zach’s forearm. “Hey brother, is your dad okay?”
“He’s doing alright,” Zach said.
Hunter scrunched his face. “Does he have…fleas?”
“What?”
“I don’t know I picked up something strange…like he has fleas or something.”
“Oh!” Zach got it. “My dad has termites.”
“Ah. That’s it.”
“Too funny. You were close, but you might want to hone the focus of those psychic talents.”
“Hey, I was close,” Hunter said. “A bug is a bug.”
“Ready to roll!” Sara shouted.
In order to film the psychic’s “arrival”, Hunter and Zach parted about ten paces from each other as if they were starting a duel.
“Rolling.”
Zach and Hunter approached each other and shook hands warmly.
“Welcome, Hunter. Have I told you anything about this case?”
“No. Absolutely nothing.”
“Have you conducted any research on your own or do you have any prior knowledge of this case?”
“Only what I read in the funny papers.”
Cute. Zach had gone on autopilot and asked Hunter the question he did before every case. Of course, Hunter knew something about Rosewood. He introduced Hunter to Bryce and the other Demon Hunters. XPI members greeted Hunter.
“So, there’s been a fire here tonight?” Hunter asked.
“Wow!” Bryce exclaimed. “Did you pick up on that psychically?”
“No, I can smell the ash, I saw fire trucks leaving as I pulled up and,” he pointed towards the burnt oak, “one of these trees is not like the others.”
The quip elicited a chuckle from the group and seemed to endear Hunter to the Demon Hunters, except perhaps Bryce.
They proceeded to the fire site where the burnt scent of wood and leaves left traces in the night air. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, but the knowledge that an ancient tree was gone—had died, made the scent unwelcome. Both groups of investigators crowded close to Hunter. Plans were for his Rosewood tour to be conducted only with Zach and Bryce, so everyone seemed eager to experience this psychic reading. The Demon Hunters especially appeared interested in what he had to say.
“Give Hunter some space,” Zach ordered.
The circle around him expanded; some stood under the blackened branches. Hunter closed his eyes. His chest heaved in slow regular breaths. There were no passing vehicles on 115th Street, and with traffic on the 94 having tapered off, it was quiet. Not silent but city quiet.
Hunter’s arms hung at his side. His right hand jerked forward. His left hand pointed in one direction and then another. The spastic movements gained in rapidity. His eyes opened, but they seemed focused on something a thousand miles in the distance. “This fire was started by something paranormal.”
Zach knew and had experienced Hunter’s psychic skills on other cases. He glanced around at the group. XPI members stared with interest at every word. Demon Hunters seemed mesmerized.
Hunter’s eyes closed again. His nose scrunched as though not understanding the psychic message he was receiving. “It was not only done to get our attention, but to serve notice to other spirits here at Rosewood.” His arms jerked at his side. “This won’t be the last fire.”
Chapter Twenty
“That was impressive, bro,” Bryce said to Hunter once the group’s ranks had thinned.
Bryce’s demeanor had mellowed considerably since earlier in the night, and the whites of his eyes had taken on the hues of a sunset. Zach wondered if his co-host would even make it until the 3 AM festivities. The three of them, accompanied by Sara and the cameraman, entered the administration building.
“Yes,” Hunter said. “Yes, I feel a presence in here.”
“Female or male?” Bryce asked.
“Male. Definitely male.”
“How old?” Bryce asked.
“Shh. Quiet. Let him do his thing,” Zach said. Interruptions annoyed Hunter and Bryce’s interruptions were annoying enough to upset just about anyone.
Underfoot, the floorboards creaked. Their instruments’ gages exuded faint light in the darkness.
“He’s a doctor.” Hunter’s arms flinched at his side. “He’s upset. Upset at what happened in the stables.” He pointed toward the other building. “Yes. Yes. I feel him in here.”
“Who?” Zach asked.
“The doctor.” Hunter inched through the darkened administration building. His hands extended out from his torso but not as though trying to avoid bumping into anything; it was more like he was wading through waist-high waves. Unlike Bryce’s directed questioning of Sashza, Zach knew to allow Hunter’s psychic feelings to wash over him.
“Doctor…” Hunter looked around as though trying to feel for the name. “J-something.”
“Johansson?” Sara asked off camera.
“Yes! Dr. Johansson,” Hunter said.
Zach glared at her. He knew she’d splice out her hint and air the episode as if he’d guessed it right off. Hunter didn’t need help to make his readings appear accurate.
“Was Dr. Johansson the spirit who burned down the tree?” Zach asked.
“No. He didn’t start the fire, but he seems to know who did.”
“Over here,” Hunter pointed and crept toward a nearby room. They followed him in. “This is where he found…a fingerprint. It was too large.”
“Too large for what?” Zach asked. “Does this have to do with tonight’s fire or does it deal with past events?”
Hunter’s eyes were glazed over. “They were new. Fingerprints were. Not used like today. He realized though. Too large he said. Not hers. He’s scared now. Scared and angry. Scared of them both. Upset too. Upset over what happened in the stables. And afterwards. He’s concerned now about the fires, but he doesn’t venture out much anymore. He just protects….protects Rosewood as best he can.”
Hunter wasn’t making any sense, and his reading didn’t at all connect with the reading that Sashza had given.
“Tell us about the fingerprints,” Zach said softly.
Hunter’s arms went spastic, his eyes fluttered and his entire body shook. He opened his eyes.
“What happened?” Zach asked.
“Dr. Johansson said to go to the stables.”
As the hour grew nearer to 3 AM, the irresolute Chicago weather shifted dramatically toward colder temperatures. The unseasonable heat of the day had vanished as though sucked by the escalating winds into the stygian sky. As the group approached the stables, debate began regarding the upcoming activities.
3 AM was known commonly as the “Witching Hour” because it was the inverse time from when Jesus was said to have died on the cross. Many claimed that while spirits were always active and just noticed more at night, actual demons used 3 AM to mock God. In the industry, it had been called various nicknames. Some used “Lights Out,” others referred to it as “Dead Time.” The Demon Hunters called it “Demon Hour.” Xavier Paranormal Investigators invented and used the term “Spirit Hour.” Sara enjoyed her own double entendre “Power Hour.”
“If we’re going to start on time,” Sara said. “We’ve only got forty-five minutes to decide and plan it out.”
“What do you mean, ‘if we’re going to start on time’?” Zach asked.
“We could always do it later and just claim it was 3 AM,” Bryce said.
Zach and Hunter glared at him. Sara judiciously said nothing.
“What?” Zach said, harsher than he meant to.
“There were a few times where we—”
“Look,” Zach said. “I don’t need to know that. This show does Spirit Hour on time.”
“Oh. You mean your show. I thought this was our show.”
“Boys…” With that tone, Sara didn’t need to say any more.
They’d reached the old stables building. Hunter approached the building and put his hands on the wall. Intuitively, the others stayed back to give him room and finish their conversation.
“Fine,” Zach said. “We call it ‘Demon Hour’ tonight and ‘Spirit Hour’ tomorrow, but we start promptly at 3 AM both nights.”
“Dude…whatever. Fine.”
“So now that the pissing contest is over,” Sara said. “What are we actually going to do?”
“We power off all lights, cell phones, electrical devices and film with only the handheld cameras like always. Then we could—”
The conversation was interrupted by Hunter’s muttering. He was at the door and jiggling the knob to get in. “It doesn’t make sense though,” he was saying.
Zach trotted over and unlocked the door. The cameraman had fortunately displayed initiative and had been filming Hunter the whole time.
“Here you go,” Zach said, guiding Hunter into the darkened structure.
Hunter proceeded to an area in the distance and to the right. “A man in a dress. A knife with a broken tip. Blood. But it doesn’t make sense.”
Zach paused a moment to ensure Hunter needed prompting. “The murder doesn’t make sense?”
“No. It’s not murder. Stabbing, but not murdering. But…he was murdered.”
“You’re right. That doesn’t make sense. Is there anything else?”
“The broken-tipped knife. It led to all this. The fingerprint. All three of them were alive here together.”
“Who?” Zach whispered.
“Doctor. Patient. Cop.”
Before Zach could clarify, there was buzzing and activity behind him. He spun preparing to give Bryce an earful. Instead it was Sara’s cell phone causing the noise.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” She grumbled at presumably a text message. She pressed a button and raised a finger letting Zach know it was urgent. She spoke into the receiver. “Matthew, are you joking?”
She grimaced and slammed the phone closed.
Hunter had snapped out of his psychic state, so it was no use keeping quiet.
“What is it?” Zach asked her.
Sara looked as upset as he’d ever seen her. “Grant Winkler is up at the main building. He’s demanding to see you and is threatening to shut us down tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“The state has us out here to investigate mysterious fires and you’re blaming us for this one?” Sara managed to brave the stench of whiskey on Winkler’s breath and get in his face.
“All of them fires wuz just weeds. That tree was a hundred years old!” He waved in the general direction of the burned oak, but it caused his body to tilt. He almost lost his balance and stumbled, but then righted himself. “And I bet you kids had something to do with it!”
“You’ve got no proof—nothing at all to back that up—”
“All’s I’m saying is that if I say you’re gone, you pack your shit and go ‘cuz you’re gone!” His eyes flared. Unfocused as they were, its effect was muted.
“And all I’m saying is if you do that, pack your shit ‘cuz I’ll see to it that my network costs you your job!”
The confrontation had escalated over the course of the previous few minutes. Sara hadn’t even bothered to flirt with the custodian this time and she had been all business at the start.
“Yeah. You just try that, missy!” Winkler moved his face even closer to hers but it was clear he was neither thinking nor seeing straight. He might well have been kicked out of his neighborhood bar and had shown up merely to throw his weight around.
“Hey now, come on,” Zach said moving between them. It was obvious Bryce wasn’t about to play the role of peacemaker this time.
“‘Hey now c’mon’ is fucking right!” An animalistic voice shouted.
Zach’s eyes widened. He’d known that voice since the sixth grade and at this hour, its owner wasn’t likely to be a calming influence. Before Zach could shoo him away, Ray was towering over Winkler.
“That’s how you talk to a lady?” Ray’s massive hands struck Winkler’s boney shoulders simultaneously. “That’s how you wanna be?”
“Fuck you!” Winkler staggered backwards. His body language spoke louder than his vulgarities.
Zach and Sara each grabbed a Ray Ross arm. Bryce had faded into the background and the cameraman was still clearly filming. Should Ray get out of control with Winkler, a lawsuit could cripple the network.
“C’mon, big man. Let’s go!” Ray stepped toward him.
Zach and Sara trailed like two ribbons on a kite.
“Yeah. You think you’re so tough,” Winkler said. He glanced behind him as if he hoped an army had materialized to intercede on his behalf or at least save his pride by pretending to hold him back.
“Tougher than you, old man. You wanna piece of me or are you gonna go home to your nice warm bottle of booze?”
“Yeah? Fuck you!” He raised a finger and waved it until it looked like it might topple him. “I’m warning you. One more fucking problem here and I’ll have the cops out to send all you punks home!”
Zach pulled as hard as he could on Ray’s shoulder. “Shhh. It’s over,” he whispered. “We won. Let it go.”
“I’m serious. Try me one more time and it will be bye bye!” Winkler backpedaled until he nearly tripped and then sw
ung around and strode toward the main gate.
“Night night, crazy man!” Ray called after him.
“Hey, cool it,” Sara said. “Enough.”
“What? I just—”
“Go back to bed, Ray,” she said, turning and walking away.
“Hey.” He grabbed her arm. “I did that for you.”
She shook free and was walking away when she said it. “Men…”
“Ray,” Zach said. “Go back to bed. Let things calm down.”
Zach put his hand on his friend’s arm. “I appreciate what you did.”
“Thanks.” Ray barely looked at him and stormed off for his tent.
Hunter must have sensed it a safe time to approach Zach. “Nice quiet little hangout you have here, brother.”
With only fifteen minutes before the commencement of “Demon Hour,” a decision needed to be made on what to do from 3 AM to approximately 3:30.
“We could just go lights out and see if anything happens,” Zach said.
“Ugh, that’s so pussy, dude,” Bryce said. “No offense, Sara.”
“None taken.”
“Seriously, Zach, we’ve only got two nights here and we’re gonna waste one sitting around twiddling our thumbs and staring into fucking candles?” Bryce seemed to be getting his second wind, although he may have had pharmaceutical assistance. “We know this doctor is lingering. He worked his whole career here and somehow got caught up into the place. Let’s set him free. Tomorrow night we’ve still got the peach-smelling room, the basement and who knows what else to exorcise in the main building.”
Zach hated when Bryce made a series of good points. He looked at Hunter for his opinion.
“Well boys, I don’t know. I don’t sense that the doctor is a threatening presence, however I don’t know that we’re going to get a clearer picture from him as to what transpired here.”
“So we’ve gotten from him what we need,” Sara said. “Look, the state of Illinois called us in here to solve the haunting. The state is our client, and the state wants these spirits gone. Our job is to clean this place up one spirit at a time.”
Waiting for direction on their final activity of the night, both the members of Demon Hunters and XPI looked like death twice baked. Young people or not, most of them had been up at the crack of dawn and except for short breaks, they had been on the go the entire day.
Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum Page 13