Cold Chills (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller Book 3)

by Scott Langrel

  “That happens more than you’d think,” Amanda replied. She rose from her chair. “I have to make a trip to the girl’s room. Too much coffee.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be here when you get back,” Deidre said, not looking up from the screen.

  Amanda walked down the hall and entered the ladies’ room. On her way back out, she noticed that John’s door was standing open. Peeking inside, she noticed McCoy’s knapsack and walking stick. Something about seeing those two items lying there unnerved her. McCoy was usually loath to separate himself from either one while working, especially in Shallow Springs.

  “Have you heard back from John?” Amanda asked Deidre when she rejoined the female deputy in the dispatch room.

  “As a matter of fact, I haven’t” Deidre replied, looking up from the computer screen. She checked the time. “He should have either called in or been back by now.”

  “They were just going down to Gravely’s Hardware, weren’t they?”

  “Last I heard from him. Want me to try him on the radio?”

  Amanda looked worriedly towards John’s office.

  “Let’s give them a few more minutes,” she said finally. “They’re only a couple of blocks away. How much trouble could they get into?”

  ***

  Cautiously, the group made their way back toward the stairwell. John took the lead, followed by McCoy and Stan. Frank brought up the rear. McCoy and the two officers had their weapons ready, while Stan was armed with a metal fence post he’d acquired from one of the stacks of merchandise.

  “Maybe it really is looters this time,” Frank whispered.

  “With two police cruisers parked out front?” John asked. “Who would be that stupid?”

  “You have a point there,” Frank conceded.

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, McCoy put his hand on John’s arm. “Let me take point,” he said. “If it’s something we don’t want to run into, I’ll be able to sense it.”

  “Okay, but be careful. And lead with your gun.”

  “Gotcha. And if I turn to run, don’t be standing in my way.”

  John nodded solemnly and stood aside to let McCoy slip past him. The handler began to ascend the stairs, motioning for the others to stay a couple of steps behind him. John and Frank shined their lights ahead of McCoy, allowing him to see where he was going.

  Above them, the store was quiet. McCoy was keenly aware of his own footsteps on the stairs. He extended his senses, hoping to catch a whiff of anything dangerous, but the vibrations he picked up on were weak and muddled. He longed for his knapsack and walking stick, which were sitting uselessly back in John’s office.

  “Anything?” John whispered from behind him.

  McCoy shook his head and continued to climb the stairs. He reached the middle landing and paused. Perhaps it had been the wind, after all. He hadn’t heard or sensed anything since hearing the door slam open. He turned to regard the others.

  “I think we may be in the clear, boys. I guess it was just the wind after—″

  The scent of lotus flowers descended upon him like a tidal wave, nearly forcing him to his knees. Above him, at the top of the stairs, a figure dressed in white appeared out of the darkness.

  “Run!” McCoy shouted. “Go back!”

  Frank, having already glimpsed the woman in white, needed no further encouragement. Stan, not yet sensing the danger, was a little slower to react. It didn’t matter, though, because John picked the store owner up and half-carried him back down the stairs, with McCoy hot on their heels.

  “Is there another way out?” John shouted as they re-entered the basement.

  “Not without going back up the stairs,” Stan replied. “Who was that woman?”

  “No one you want to meet,” McCoy said as he rushed by. “Is there a clear spot down here somewhere?”

  “Over in the right-hand corner. We moved some stuff out, so there’s a ten-by ten spot with nothing there.”

  “It’ll have to do,” McCoy said. “John, you and Stan head on over there. Frank, you’re with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Frank asked, sounding none too happy to be paired with McCoy.

  “Back to where we first saw you and Stan. Come on. Hurry!”

  Using Frank’s flashlight to illuminate the way, they slipped hurriedly through the maze of pallets until they reached the area where the group had met up earlier. McCoy looked around wildly, searching for a certain stack of merchandise.

  “Shine your light on the pallets!” McCoy barked. “I can’t see what I’m looking for.”

  Frank swung the flashlight’s beam around. When it landed on a pallet filled with plastic bags, McCoy grabbed the deputy’s hand.

  “There! Come on. Grab a bag and let’s get back to the others.”

  They each grabbed a twenty-five pound bag and headed across the basement toward the opposite corner. Stealth was no longer a concern, so McCoy shouted at John as they ran, using the sheriff’s voice to hone in on his position.

  Finally, they broke into the open area where John and Stan stood nervously waiting. McCoy dropped his bag, pulled a pen knife from his pocket, and slit a small opening in the top of the bag. Satisfied, he did the same to the bag Frank was carrying.

  “Start pouring,” he told Frank. “Start here and move to your right. We need to make a circle. It doesn’t have to be perfectly round, but the line can’t be broken. I’ll go to the left and meet you in the rear.”

  “Ice Melt?” Stan asked, confused.

  “Rock salt, to be more accurate,” McCoy said. “Salt being the operative ingredient. You guys follow behind us and make sure we don’t leave any gaps in the circle.”

  John followed behind McCoy, while Stan took Frank’s flashlight and trailed the deputy. When they were finished, McCoy grabbed John’s light and made a final inspection. Seemingly satisfied, he moved to the center of the circle.

  “Is it going to be large enough?” John asked.

  “I have no idea. Everyone needs to get in the middle, as far away from the edge of the circle as possible. It’s time to huddle up, so don’t be shy.”

  “Can I ask why we’re doing what we’re doing?” Stan asked.

  “You can ask all you want later,” McCoy replied. “Right now, I’m a little preoccupied.”

  “And who’s going to clean up this mess?”

  “It’ll either be us or the crime scene clean-up crew, depending on how this goes. Now get over here and get cozy with the rest of us.”

  Stan moved over to stand unhappily with the rest of the group. As he did so, a figure emerged from behind a row of unused shelving.

  “There she is!” John shouted. “Eleven o’clock!”

  The Yuki-Onna glided toward them, coming to a stop just beyond the edge of the protective circle. She looked down at the barrier, a look of mild annoyance briefly crossing her delicate features. She then returned her gaze to the men who were huddled together in the center of the circle.

  “Gawd!” Stan said, a look of terror on his face. “She ain’t got no feet!”

  “A common characteristic of Japanese spirits,” McCoy said tersely. “Don’t ask me why.”

  “You mean she’s a ghost?”

  “Give the man a cookie. Now, everyone be really quiet and really still.”

  Slowly, the spirit began to circle them, keeping a respectful distance from the line of salt. The basement was deathly quiet, the only sound being the ragged, frightened breathing from the men inside the circle. The further the Yuki-Onna went, the more her agitation showed.

  “She’s looking for a way in,” McCoy whispered.

  “Yeah, and she’s getting pissed,” John shot back.

  “Hopefully, that’s a good sign.”

  “Really? And why would it be good ?”

  “Because it means she can’t touch us from there. She needs to get closer.”

  John thought about it, realized it made sense, and nodded.

  “I can’t believe it,” Fran
k said with a mixture of awe and sheer terror. “You guys were telling the truth.”

  Both John and McCoy shot him a warning glance. McCoy leaned his head toward Stan. Frank, having forgotten that Stan was there, realized his mistake and shut up.

  Having travelled the entire circumference of the circle, the spirit returned to its original position and hovered, staring at the group. Her irritation having faded, she watched the men stoically.

  “What’s she doing now?” Stan asked.

  “Trying to wait us out, I guess,” McCoy answered.

  “Can she do that?” John asked.

  “No. I mean, I’m pretty sure she can’t. She can’t function in the daytime. She should vanish at dawn.”

  “Pretty sure? It’s awfully dark in this basement.”

  “Yes, I see that.”

  “So, how will she know what dawn comes?” John asked. “How will any of us know, for that matter?”

  “By our watches,” McCoy said irritably.

  “News flash: the ghost doesn’t have a watch.”

  “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

  The group fell silent, contenting themselves with watching the spirit, just as the spirit watched them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “No answer from John on the radio,” Deidre said. She had given up on the computer search and now sat looking worriedly at Amanda. “I’m going to try his cell. If he still doesn’t answer, I’m going down there.”

  “Let me try Finn,” Amanda offered. “John may be occupied with his duties. Finn should be doing nothing but observing.”

  “Since when did the fact that he shouldn’t be involved ever stop Finn McCoy?” Deidre asked.

  “You have a good point,” Amanda said, reaching for her phone. “But I’ll try him anyway.”

  McCoy picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Finn. Where are you guys?” Amanda asked. “We thought you’d be back by now.”

  “We’ve run into a little wrinkle,” McCoy said vaguely. “Probably nothing to worry about. Except that we might not be back until morning.”

  “Morning? But I thought you were only going two blocks.”

  “We did. We’re in Gravely’s right now.”

  “So what’s the hold up? Is everyone all right?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Finn, there’s something you’re not telling me. Spit it out, or I’ll be down there in a few minutes.”

  “No! Don’t do that,” McCoy said. “I mean, there’s no use in you coming out in the storm. We’ll be back as quick as we can.”

  “I’m getting the keys off Deidre right now.”

  “Okay, okay,” McCoy said, defeated. “We’re in a bit of a jam here. The Yuki-Onna has us trapped in the basement.”

  “What? That’s the small wrinkle? I’m coming down there!”

  “No, wait. We’re okay. I have a protective circle around us. The spirit can’t pass through.”

  “And you can’t leave the circle,” Amanda reasoned. “What’s the plan? To wait until she gets tired and leaves?”

  “Something like that,” McCoy admitted. “Though it doesn’t sound as lame when I say it.”

  “Finn, that’s not a plan.”

  “The Yuki-Onna will disappear with the dawn,” McCoy said. “Everything I’ve ever read points to them being nocturnal. All we have to do is stay put for a couple of hours, and we’re home free.”

  “We can’t just leave you down there. There has to be some way to help.”

  “You can’t risk coming here. If you show up, the spirit will only come after you. But I do have something that might help with your search. A name. Harumi.”

  “Harumi? Is that the spirit’s name?”

  “I think so. Check everything for a woman with that first name. Death records, burial records, marriage—″

  The connection went dead.

  “Finn?” Amanda asked. She checked her phone. The call had been lost.

  “What?” Deidre asked, concern filling her voice. “What’s going on?”

  “We need to get to Gravely’s right away,” Amanda said, and was in the process of getting her coat when the front door burst open.

  ***

  McCoy looked blankly at the phone, which was telling him that the call had been lost. He checked the device’s signal. Four bars.

  “Look!” Stan yelled. “She’s gone!”

  McCoy looked up to see that the Yuki-Onna had, indeed, vanished. He swept the flashlight’s beam across the basement, revealing no sign of the spirit.

  “Maybe it’s a trick,” John said. “Why would she just disappear like that?”

  McCoy looked back down at his phone.

  “Shit! She’s gone after the women!” He started to bolt for the stairs, but John put a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “Are you sure?” the sheriff asked. “Once we leave this circle, all bets are off.”

  McCoy hesitated. “I’ll try to call Amanda back.” He hit the speed dial and lifted the phone to his ear. After five rings, the call went to voice mail.

  “She’s not answering. I’m going. If you want to stay here, that’s fine.”

  “If Amanda and Deidre are in trouble, you’ll have to race me there.”

  They took off running for the stairs. Frank looked at Stan uncertainly.

  “What do you think? Go or stay.”

  “I’m not waiting around for that thing to come back,” Stan said, and lit out after the others. Frank hesitated only briefly before following.

  ***

  When they heard the door open, Amanda and Deidre looked up to see a woman carrying a young child into the station. The woman was winded, and it was apparent that she had been carrying the toddler for quite a distance. She sat the child, a young boy, down. He stood at the woman’s feet, eyeing Amanda and Deidre with curiosity.

  “Valerie?” Deidre asked, rising from her chair. “What in the world are you doing out in this mess?”

  “I was trying to get to the store,” the woman named Valerie replied. “I know it was stupid, but Skylar was out of milk.”

  “Mik!” Skylar echoed happily.

  “Oh dear,” Deidre said. “You didn’t wreck, did you? Are both of you all right?”

  “We’re fine. I’m just a little exhausted from carrying him through the snow. I got the car stuck, that’s all.”

  “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Deidre looked back at Amanda. “Amanda, this is Valerie Watts. She’s a member of my Wednesday book club.”

  “Good to meet you,” Amanda said. She turned to Deidre. “If you need to stay here, I can go check on—the hardware store.”

  “No, I’d better go, too.” The deputy looked at Valerie. “We need to run out for just a minute. Would you mind waiting here? I promise I’ll give you a lift as soon as we get back.”

  “That’s fine,” Valerie said. “It’s warm in here. Sure beats walking out in the storm.”

  “I won’t keep her long, I promise,” Amanda said. She glanced over Valerie’s shoulder at the front door.

  A pale face stared back at her through the window.

  “Deidre?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could you take Valerie and Skylar back to John’s office?”

  “Why do—″ Deidre stopped as she followed Amanda’s gaze and saw the face peering in.

  “You know what? Let’s do go back to the sheriff’s office. Like, right now.”

  Valerie looked confused, but she was smiling. She hadn’t yet seen the thing which watched them from the other side of the entry door. Taking her son by the hand, she took a couple of steps toward the hallway.

  A heavy gust of wintry wind blew the entrance door open. As if floating on a gentle breeze instead of an icy gale, the Yuki-Onna entered the building.

  Hearing the commotion, Valerie turned and saw the pale spirit pass through the doorway. At first, assuming that the woman was another citizen in need of assistance, her smil
e remained. It faltered and disappeared, however, when she noticed that the woman had no feet and was floating across the tiled floor.

  “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, snatching Skylar into her arms.

  “Hurry!” Amanda yelled. “Down the hall! First door on the left!” She moved to hurry Valerie along, but the woman was already halfway down the hall.

  “What do we do?” Deidre hissed, her gun drawn and leveled at the intruder.

  “Follow Valerie. We’ll barricade ourselves in John’s office. And put that down. It won’t do any good.”

  The two rushed back to the sheriff’s office, where they found Valerie huddling in a corner, shielding her son with her body. As soon as Deidre cleared the door, Amanda slammed it shut. She engaged the thumb lock and turned to search for something sturdy to brace the door with. A tall wooden bookcase looked to be perfect, but she doubted that she and Deidre would be strong enough to move it. Valerie, terrified out of her wits, appeared to be useless.

  “Do you think we could get that in front of the door?” Amanda asked, pointing to the bookshelf.

  “We can if you’ve got some kind of super power I don’t know about,” Deidre said. “Otherwise, I kind of doubt it.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. How about the desk?”

  “We can try.”

  Pushing the chairs out of the way, they each grabbed an end of the desk. It scooted a few inches, but it was far too heavy for them to lift.

  “What does he keep in here?” Amanda wheezed. “Lead ingots?”

  “Keep trying,” Deidre huffed. “Maybe we can scoot it.”

  The door blew open in a gust of frigid air, the flimsy lock no match for the spirit’s power. Over the threshold came the Yuki-Onna, her black hair flowing in tendrils behind her. Though her face betrayed no expression, she exuded a hunger which chilled Amanda deeper than the winter wind.

  “Get back with them!” she yelled to Deidre. The deputy jumped in front of Valerie and Skylar and again drew her weapon.

  Reaching down, Amanda grabbed McCoy’s walking stick. Carved from black rowan, or fairy wood, the stick held much power against the Fey. Amanda only hoped it would do some damage to the ice-bitch. She drew back and took a mighty swing at the Yuki-Onna’s head.