Sand Trap (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  Mia found an old tee that came down to her knees. She pulled on some thick black tights. She wound a belt twice around her waist to chinch in the voluminous cotton shirt. There, she thought as she admired herself in the mirror. Not bad for hand-me-downs. She heard the shower start and knew Ted was up and raring to go. She was glad as she didn’t want to be the one to wake him.

  The doorbell rang and Mia rushed down to answer it. Whit stood there looking down at her. “Delivery for Mia Cooper?”

  “Thank you! You are a lifesaver. Come in!” Mia said a bit too cheery. She was trying to figure out the pained expression Whit was wearing. “Migraine?”

  “Yes,” he answered and walked by her into the house.

  “I’m sorry. And I got you out of bed.”

  “That you did,” he said through clenched teeth. He handed her a sack with clothes in it.

  She took it and ran upstairs, depositing them outside the guest bath’s door. She took her time coming down the stairs, trying to figure out the ever-changing mood of Whit. It was more than a headache. Something happened. She found him in the kitchen where he had set the coffee and doughnuts on the counter. He had his back to her, looking out the window over the sink.

  “Are we alright?” she asked him. She saw his back stiffen.

  He turned around and looked at her. “I was over at your house last night, helping Ralph out. I expect you know he is hell bent on making a showplace out of your sanctuary. And came upon Sherry’s pictures.”

  Mia fought to keep her emotions in check. Now wasn’t the time to ask why the fuck he was going through her closet. She simply said, “I thought you or your in-laws may want them.”

  “You had no right to take them.”

  “True, I was wrong.”

  Whit didn’t expect her to be this remorseful or reticent. “We’ll talk more about this later. Now’s not the time. I expect that’s Burt up there.”

  Mia burst out laughing. “Burt? No. Ted. I thought I told you Ted was driving me because of you know…”

  Whit put his hand through his hair, embarrassed. “I must have heard wrong. Sorry. Good thing as the guy was never going to be able to button those jeans.”

  Mia rolled her eyes. “You probably found your tightest ones.”

  “Well, yes.”

  Mia shook her head and tried to control her giggles. “You are a horrible man.”

  “That’s horrible, law enforcement professional man to you, Mia,” Whit said, trying not to lose his bad mood. He relented and smiled.

  “That coffee for me?” Mia nodded at the three cups on the counter.

  Whit handed her a cup, and before he could caution her on the hotness she was greedily sipping it. “Hot, but good.”

  “I smell coffee. The cavalry must be here, “Ted said as he entered the kitchen. “Hello, officer flame-thrower, good to see you alive and kicking.”

  Whit winced, remembering the last time he and Ted had been together wasn’t one of his best moments. “Ted, where is your sidekick?”

  “Hospitalized, yours?”

  “Home with his mother.”

  “We have lame sidekicks. Hard to be super heroes with lame sidekicks,” Ted said, flipping open the doughnut box. He grabbed a chocolate cream and shoved it in his mouth whole.

  “But the women love us,” Whit said bringing his shoulders square.

  Mia looked from one to the other and just shook her head. How do guys do it? She asked herself. They took an uncomfortable situation and breathed nonchalance into it and ended up friends. She stuck her hand in the box and extracted a jelly doughnut. She took a bite and rolled her eyes in ecstasy.

  Ted caught her look and commented, “Cops pick out the best doughnuts.”

  Whit threw up his hands and glared at Ted.

  Ted asked with his mouth full, “What?”

  “I give up.” Whit took a doughnut and a cup of coffee and leaned back on the counter. “You guys want to regale me with your exploits? Leave out the law breaking stuff.”

  Mia nodded to Ted who proceeded to catch Whit up on all the activities of the last few days. Mia watched her friend’s face as the story unfolded. Whit’s eyes moved briefly to hers before concentrating on Ted’s narrative.

  “How fast was the truck going?” he asked looking over at Mia.

  “Thirty-five miles an hour officer,” Mia lied and glared at Ted.

  “Leave her alone,” Ted said. “It’s not your jurisdiction.”

  “So you hit the one lane bridge going how fast?”

  “Enough,” Mia said.

  “Ninety,” Ted said and continued with the story.

  Whit frowned at the mention of Murphy and asked, “How is he now?”

  “We don’t know. I haven’t seen him and won’t know until I do,” Mia confessed.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  “I think there’s something wrong with my ribs. I’m mad at the universe, and while there is nothing unusual about that, I just am having trouble keeping my shit together.”

  Ted looked at the two friends. They seemed at odds with their feelings. He wasn’t real good at relationship stuff. He reached in and took two more doughnuts and left the room, saying over his shoulder, “I’m going to call the PEEPs and get an update.”

  They heard the front door close.

  Mia spoke first, “I better get cleaning. April’s going to have a shit fit.”

  “April’s not due back for another week. She’s taking time off, pondering the job offer,” Whit told her. “I’ll take care of the mess. You get yourself to a doctor.”

  “Can’t. Chicago is waiting, Bernard…”

  “He will understand the delay.” Whit stared at her. “You aren’t going to the doctor are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “At least let me look at your ribs.”

  “Okay,” Mia said and undid the belt. She tried to raise the tee, but Whit pushed her hands away.

  “Stand still.” Whit raised the tee and took in the blue-grey contused skin and dropped the shirt. He carefully probed her ribcage. His hands were gentle, and soon he was finished. “They’re angry but not broken. You need to protect them, maybe pick up a wrap from the CVS on your way to the highway,” he advised. “Nice tits by the way.”

  Mia was mortified and blushed. “You bastard.”

  “Yep, but professional law enforcement bastard to you, missy,” Whit said and walked out of her smack range. “Call me when you’re back in town. We have some talking to do.”

  “Okay, will do. Do you mind if we take the rest of these with us? Sugar helps mend bruises.”

  “Does not, but go ahead. Be careful, Mia. I don’t want to lose you,” Whit said and walked her to the door.

  Ted was in the truck waiting. Mia handed him the doughnuts through the window. She walked around and opened her door. She took a moment to look for Murphy but saw only an empty farm on a sunny day. She looked at Whit standing, leaning on the porch and waved goodbye.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Burt stood before Lucky’s bar. He had sent his team home. This wasn’t the first investigation that had gotten out of control. The hollow was a classic example of amateur investigators way over their heads. But he had learned from that experience. His team had matured, and they were one of the top twenty teams on cable and climbing. He had an agent and sponsor money to nurture the advancement of his paranormal research. True, he was bruised and battered, but he was on his way up.

  The hairs on the back of his arms and neck rose. He’d felt this before. This was a warning that something was near him. He backed away from the building a few feet. The sound of a boot ornamented with chain fell beside him. Burt reached in his pocket and brought out a digital recorder.

  “I’m not staying. Is there anything you want to tell me before I go?”

  Before him there was a scratching sound. He looked down at the ground and witnessed a line being drawn. Recalling the nightmare Mia and Ted went through, Burt was inspired to
ask the next question, “I’m on your turf?” He backed away pulling a camera out of his pocket. He took a snap of the line and the area around it. He turned to go and heard another footfall in front of him. This one had a tap of a steel cleat to it.

  Burt continued to move forward but was pushed back by an unseen hand. Armed only with a camera and a digital recorder, Burt felt very vulnerable. Mia’s caution about always having a saltshaker handy was one piece of advice he wished he’d listened to. He saw another line being drawn in the dirt, broken blacktop and grit of the parking lot.

  “I get it, don’t cross the line.” He cautiously moved sideways between the two lines heading for the highway. When he hit the freshly-lined pavement of Route 66, he ran along the road until he was lined up with where he parked the command post truck. It was 50 feet from his present position. Locked. He stood there a moment and considered his options. He could hoof it down to the diner and get a shaker of salt or he could run like hell hoping to make the truck before whoever had established the turf line got to him. Mia’s information on how fast a ghost could move was stored next to common sense, and he decided to go for the salt.

  He had only gone a few yards when he heard the sound of a Harley rev its engine behind him. It was followed by another and another until there was a chorus of big-bike music. Fear gripped him. The shock of Mia’s and Ted’s adventure of the night before was fresh in his mind. The idea that a ghost would chase you and run you down to do you harm was unbelievable, but yet here on the Mother Road surrounded by corn it was a fact.

  Burt quickened his pace not looking back. Surely these specters had other places to be? He felt the extra weight he put on recently drag him down. Sweat dripped off his forehead and down his back, but he continued. The noise of their engines changed, and he knew they had put it in gear and were moving. He didn’t waste time but broke into a run. There was no way he was going to outrun them, but at least he would be closer to the diner. Someone may come along and find his body. He could survive this.

  Mixed in with the roar of engines was a steady hum of a different kind of engine. The sound moved closer and was now alongside Burt. He ventured a look and was pleased to see a dark red Buick slow down and the passenger window lower.

  “Son, it’s way too hot for running,” said an older woman dressed in gray.

  “Yes,” Burt took in the garb she and the other women in the car were wearing, “Sister. I admit to having quite a fright. This run isn’t for pleasure.”

  The car pulled past him and over to the side of the road. “Get in,” a chorus of women called.

  Burt ran up and got in the back and squeezed himself alongside another nun.

  The driver turned around and looked behind her before signaling to get back on the road. The nun beside him asked. “I’m Sister Julie. Sister Margaret is on my left. Riding shotgun is Sister Mary.” She took a breather and asked, “You look familiar, do I know you?”

  “Um, are you from Kansas?”

  The nun giggled. “No, wait. PEEPs! You’re one of the guys covered in plaster.” She tapped the driver and said, “You remember, Anne,”

  The driver smiled. “Burt Hicks.”

  Burt was gob smacked. “Yes.”

  “What are you running from?”

  They were approaching the diner. Burt asked, “Can I buy you ladies a cup of coffee? I would love to tell you all about it.”

  Anne pulled into the diner’s lot before asking, “What about it ladies, do you want to hear a ghost story?”

  The three others agreed, and Burt, still in shock over being recognized, swallowed hard. “You have no idea what you ladies saved me from.”

  “Wasn’t it convenient we showed up,” Sister Margaret mentioned.

  Burt rolled his eyes. Only in fiction would you have Heaven’s Angels show up to save you from Hell’s Angels. The PEEPs team would never believe this.

  Anne parked the car. Burt got out, remembering his manners and aided in the extraction of the Sister Julie who had sat near him. Her hand was spotted with age but her grip was strong. “I’ve watched you from your humble beginnings, Mr. Hicks.”

  “That has an ominous ring to it, sister.”

  Julie giggled and blushed. She kept a firm grip on his arm as they entered the diner. The cool fragrant air hit him, and his stomach growled. Looking around he saw that the corner table was open. He walked Julie to the table and excused himself to go to the bathroom to freshen up. On the way he leaned over the counter where Sally was refilling saltshakers. “The tab for the corner table is on me.”

  Sally looked over at the table and raised her eyebrows. “Not your usual crew.”

  “No. Oh, and Sally, could you also see if you have a box of salt I could buy and take with me?”

  “Looks like you should be cutting down on the sodium, but it’s your funeral. I’ll see what I can do. Coffee?”

  “Please,” Burt said and continued to the bathroom. Once inside he splashed water on his face and said a prayer of thanks.

  ~

  Mia directed Ted to the small lot signed for employees only. He rolled down his window as the security guard approached. Mia recognized the man but wasn’t sure he would know her. “I’m Mia Cooper. This is my associate Theodore Martin. We are delivering a sample for Dr. Wesley,” she said when the guard had asked their business.

  “Hold on.” The guard radioed her name in and received information back. “Park down there and use the west entrance. There will be someone to walk you both through security.”

  “Things are buttoned up tight today,” she remarked to Ted as he navigated the parking lot.

  “Well if the cops think that researcher was murdered, I’d be extra cautious too. After all, the items in that building are priceless.”

  Mia looked at him and said, “You’ve been here before.”

  “No, read about it online. Always pays to do your research first before blundering in.”

  “I wish you’d tell Burt and Mike that.”

  “I leave that kind of nagging to Beth, she’s better at it.”

  “Good to know. He never listens to me,” Mia sighed.

  “Must be frustrating,” Ted commiserated.

  “There are worse things,” Mia said.

  “Like being chased by invisible bikers in the middle of the freaking night.”

  “That would be one.”

  Ted parked the truck and came around and opened a surprised Mia’s door. “Don’t get a swelled head. I thought you might be feeling the effects of those ribs.”

  “Too late, knew you were a closeted gentleman, Ted. I now have proof,” she said, accepting his assistance out of the truck.

  They walked together to the side entrance. Inside there were a few people milling around. A sharply dressed woman addressed them.

  “Miss Cooper, Mr. Martin, Dr. Wesley would like you to go directly to the upper level labs. Follow me.”

  “Her name’s Mary Westfield,” Mia whispered to Ted. “She protects Bernard like a lioness.”

  “I understand you’ve been doing some radical work in spirit communication,” Mary said to make polite conversation as they walked.

  “I’m being mentored by Father Santos.” Mia patted Ted’s arm that she still held. “Mr. Martin is the preeminent researcher on magnetic resonance in the sixth dimension.”

  Mary’s body language changed from the drudgery of moving a couple of morons, to escorting important people. Ted noticed and patted Mia’s hand.

  “Have you heard from your parents?”

  “Not recently, they’re digging somewhere,” Mia replied.

  “Well, when you speak to your mother, tell her I was most impressed with her article on the dyes used in pre-Columbian pottery.”

  “I didn’t know that came out yet. I will give her your compliments.”

  “Amanda Cooper is a fine example of what the best education can give a woman.”

  Mia’s nails involuntary dug into Ted’s arm. He, the stalwart man he was, did
n’t flinch. “I don’t know, I found her article “Fibers of Navaho” a little clinical for my tastes,” Ted said dryly. “But our areas are so different.” He pulled on her hand and Mia released her death grip.

  “Words to ponder,” Mary said in a flirty voice. She opened the door to the stairwell and led the way upward. “Security is very high today. After Dr. Tan’s death, we all have been on edge. Dr. Wesley hasn’t gone home yet.”

  “I didn’t realize. We pulled an all-nighter ourselves,” Mia commented, adding, “Drove all night to get these samples here.”

  “They must be important, not to trust them to a courier.”

  “They are one of a kind,” Mia assured her.

  Mary swiped her badge at the reader at the door before opening it. She stepped aside. You’ll find Dr. Wesley on the third door to your right. You won’t need a badge at this point. Have a nice day. Give my regards to Amanda and Charles.”

  Mia and Ted waited until the door closed behind them to break into giggles. “Well, Theodore, I wasn’t aware you were so well versed on Amanda’s articles.”

  “Google is a techie’s best friend, my dear.” Ted looked over his shoulder and commented, “Your life must be hell.”

  “Aspects of it I suppose, but I assure you that my parents barely remember I’m alive. I would get more attention if I was a desiccated sixteen century corpse.”

  “Phew! I couldn’t handle all that posturing.”

  “You would do fine. Thank you, for being here, having my back and keeping me in one piece.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m dying to get a hold of a computer to load these pictures into. I was looking at them, and I think we may have some fabulous stills of the gang.”

  “The gang. You say it like, you know, ‘Hey ma, I’m going to meet the gang for pizza.’” Mia shook her head. She stood in front of the lab door and took a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “If Dr. Tan died in there, there is a small chance he may be hanging around. I haven’t decided whether or not I should engage with him.”