Given Enough Rope (Haunted Series Book 20)

by Alexie Aaron

  “I can see that.” Ira said looking at how slowly Barb’s team was working.

  “Murphy!” Sabine called.

  The ghost appeared in front of them.

  “Can you escort us to the Dark Watcher please?”

  “Follow me.”

  Ira banged into the back of Murphy.

  “Oops, I forgot you move slower than OOBers,” Ira said.

  Murphy sighed and nodded. Ira was a nice kid; Murphy knew it was an accident. If it were Mason, then Murphy would have had a few words. He led them into the pit to where the lights from the archeology team had pushed the shadows back into the far corners.

  Sabine could see the dark entity not quite camouflaged in his surroundings. She pointed him out to Ira. They approached the Dark Watcher slowly.

  “Excuse me, I sense that you’re in pain. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Sabine asked in her wispy voice.

  “Everyone is gone. One moment everyone was having such a good time, celebrating, and now they are all gone.”

  “Gone as in…” Ira led.

  “Dead, destroyed, all gone.”

  “Who are you?” Sabine asked.

  “I am all, and I am none,” the Dark Watcher said.

  Ira got the idea that the entity didn’t know what or who it was, so further questioning along those lines would be futile. “What can we do to help you?”

  “Look forward,” it said and moved away, moving in shadow until they could no longer see it.

  Sabine looked disappointed. “Why don’t we go inside the bar and see if the other ghosts are about?”

  Ira nodded and followed her lead.

  Murphy stayed back. The pull of the dig was too much. Barb’s team had called it quits for the night, but Murphy would stay and make sure nothing happened to delay the opening of McNally’s.

  Mia stopped on her way to her bar vigil to look down into the excavation pit. An evening breeze had dipped down, bringing with it a few late summer blooms, before it pushed against the sign, now freed from a century and a half of dirt and debris. She stood there a moment and pushed a wee bit more with her mind.

  The screech of corroded metal against metal assaulted the quiet evening hours. Passers-by stopped a moment and looked down into the mercury-lit lot. Moving only as far as the fence, they were drawn to the spectacle of what appeared to be the front of an old pub emerging out of the ground. Some thought it was probably a movie set and would rush home to see if there was an open casting call. Others wouldn’t see the pub at all, just a lot of dirt. One looked down and pondered the effect this would have on his plans, before he too rushed away.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Mia walked up to Tony, Dash’s bouncer, who was setting up the velvet rope. “Is this alright, or do I need to wear something more feminine?”

  He shook his head, smiling at how the small pregnant blonde was wearing one of the black Eighty-eight’s piano keys shirts. “I think you look just fine, but people may give you their drink orders.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t mind it one bit.”

  “Why are you here again tonight?” he asked her.

  “Your and my boss want me watching the place.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m not sure, just things out of the ordinary. If, for instance, a ghost starts to play ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ I may be needed to turn the pages of the music.”

  “That gives me the chills. I’d rather be outside keeping the riffraff out.”

  “Do you actually turn people away, even on slow nights?” Mia asked.

  “Only the ones I can tell are coming in to gay bash.”

  “How do you tell?”

  “I’ve been doing this for a dozen years now. I can tell. It’s the way they don’t look you in the eye when you approach them.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. What you do is so important. I dream of a day when everyone isn’t judged on gender preferences or body type, just the crap that comes out of their mouths.”

  “Here, here,” Tony said. “Now get in there and keep those spirits from drinking up the profits.”

  “Yes, sir!” Mia said and walked in the door.

  Sabine and Ira moved past Mia on their way back outside. They laughed together because, as good as Mia was, she couldn’t see everything. Sabine and Ira rushed back to their bodies. They had spent too much time away.

  “Vitals changing on Sabine and Ira,” warned Jake.

  Mason got up and saw to his relief that the two were waking up. “Ted, they’ve come back. What do I do?”

  “You ask us if we need help,” Sabine answered for Ted.

  “Do you, Miss Sabine, need any help?” Mason asked.

  “Why yes. I can’t feel my feet. Would you mind massaging some life back into them?” she told him.

  Ira looked at Mason and thought his friend was going to have a heart attack.

  “Me, massage your feet…”

  “Step aside,” Ted said and sat down and took off Sabine’s shoes. “Watch and learn. First…” Ted took care of Sabine as if she was Mia. He just avoided any innuendos he and his wife shared when he massaged Mia’s limbs.

  “Inky, sire, do you need any help?” Mason asked, praying the answer would be no.

  “Just help me up, moron,” Ira instructed.

  “How’s that?” Ted asked Sabine.

  “Much better.”

  “Mason, text Mia, and tell her Sabine and Ira have returned safe and sound.”

  “Oh and tell her we passed right by her and she didn’t see us at all,” Sabine giggled.

  Mia looked at the text quickly before balancing the drinks tray on her shoulder and heading for table five. She lowered the tray and handed over the drinks and collected payment and quite a hefty tip. She handed the tip over to the waiter whose table she’d inadvertently poached on her way back from the bathroom.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder. Mia turned to see a giggly woman whom Mia assumed was part of the hen party at tables six and seven. “Yes?”

  “Aren’t you the winner of the Bodacious Beach Bod?”

  “Not currently. I believe they crowned a Pokémon character this year,” Mia said and started to move away.

  “But you are the Ice Queen?”

  Mia gave up and said, “Yes, I am.”

  “How did you get the sand to stick to your boobs? You know, when you spelt out that name…” the very drunk bride asked.

  “Chapstick. Any other questions?”

  “How come you’re so fat!” a wafer thin, pushup-bra-wearing rude woman yelled.

  “I’m pregnant. So, ladies, if you want to avoid my predicament, keep the knees together,” Mia said, turned and walked right smack into Mike who had heard the insult and was coming to her aid. “What a way of killing a girl’s exit,” Mia growled.

  “Let me handle this,” he said.

  “No. Let them have their fun. It doesn’t bother me. After all, I’m the Ice Queen!” Mia said a little too loud.

  The ever alert piano player started playing “Frozen Heart” from the musical Frozen. One waiter started singing, being joined by another and another, until Mia was surrounded by them.

  Mike couldn’t stop laughing.

  Mia was lifted onto a bar stool and presented with a tablecloth train and a long fork with all sorts of fruit on the pronged end for her scepter. She looked up into one of the cameras and set her jaw.

  “Uh oh, Burt, I think Mia is requesting a break,” Mason said. Burt, who was busy looking through footage, glanced over. “No, son, Mia is demanding I get her the ef out of there.”

  “Sabine, would you mind taking Mia’s place for an hour?” Burt asked.

  “Do I have to be a waitress. Because I’m clumsy,” Sabine asked.

  “No, just watch for ghosts and stop them before they wreck the place.”

  “Phew! No problem. How do I look?” she asked, standing up.

  “Great. Tell the guy at the door you’re a PEEP,” Burt instructed.
/>   “She shouldn’t be walking in the dark. Mind if I escort her there and pick up my humiliated wife?” Ted asked.

  “Good idea. I’ll text her she can leave.”

  Mia smiled. The song ended, and the participating waiters took a bow. Mia clapped for them, unpinned her train, and made a hasty exit for the door, before someone got the wrong idea that she was going to burst into song.

  She pushed her way through a group of men standing by the bar, mumbling, “Excuse me.”

  A wave of hatred hit her as her elbow contacted with one of the men. She turned and stared into what she would tell Ted later was pure evil. There was nothing that would have set the man apart from the other lone wolves who were standing there, except his eyes. They were shark eyes, devoid of life, with the exception of the hate that rolled off the man in waves.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you,” she said, not breaking eye contact.

  “Mia!” she heard Ted call from the door, and she turned for a moment to wave to him. When she turned back, the man was gone. She looked the length of the restaurant, but she couldn’t spot him.

  “Mia,” Ted said, pulling her in for a hug. “Where are you?”

  “Something’s not right… I’ll tell you later. Get me out of here,” she pleaded.

  They passed Sabine. Mia called out in her head, “Be careful. There is a man here that isn’t right. He has dead eyes.”

  “I’ll be on my toes,” Sabine assured her. “I’ll stick to Mike.”

  “Good idea,” Mia said.

  ~

  Tom’s mother insisted that he wear his father’s pajamas and robe if he was sleeping at Bea White’s house. His normal boxers were not proper according to the law that was Susan Braverman. Fortunately, Tom and his father were pretty close in body types, and Tom’s dad had refused to wear Bears’ wear to bed. The robe had deep pockets, into which Tom put his service revolver and a few ghost deterrents.

  The information Mark had collected was being worked on, and Tom would be questioning the realtor that handled the sale of the Gifford house in the morning. Tonight, he checked every window and door to make sure it was locked. He rummaged in Bea’s recycling bin and came up with some soda cans. He stacked them behind the front and the back door.

  “What are you doing that for?” she asked.

  “This will alert us to the door opening. If someone has a key or picks the lock, they will skedaddle with the noise of the cans falling. Tomorrow, I’ll get you a few jingle bells to hang.”

  “How clever.”

  “I wish I could take credit for it, but it’s a trick I learned from a delightful redhead in Michigan.”

  Bea had gone to bed after making Tom a snack. He sat in the kitchen looking over Mark’s notes and made a few of his own. The sound of the cans falling at the front door had Tom vaulting out of his chair as he charged towards the front of the house.

  “Police!” he shouted. The intruder shut the door. Tom opened it and started pursuing a small hooded figure running away. “Stop, police!” he called. He saw the apparition up ahead, no doubt sent to interfere with his pursuit of the hooded man. He pulled a handful of kosher salt out of his pocket, and tossed it at the center of the ghost. It screamed and withered in pain. Tom rounded the corner to see the taillights of a merchant van speeding down the street. He returned to where he assaulted - no pun intended - the ghost, but found it gone.

  Bea was looking out of the window with a phone in her hand, ready to call 911. Tom waved that he was okay. He stopped his pursuit of the ghost because his sensitivity wasn’t strong enough to follow the ghost’s trail beyond the corner streetlight.

  He pressed number two on his phone. “Mia, I hope it’s not too late,” he said.

  “No, Tom, we keep ghost hours,” she said softly.

  “I’ve been staking out the Gifford house and tonight…”

  Mia listened intently and asked, “How big was the hooded figure?”

  “Small, five feet at most.”

  The realization hit Mia like a ton of bricks. Who else would dare to ghost-nap in order to safely burgle. “I suspect it’s Edward Jones, or that’s what he was going by when Chicago PD arrested him. Do you remember when PEEPs were helping the Seeley sisters out when their condo was having ghost problems?”

  “Faintly.”

  “Well, it was all about finding missing diamonds. There was also a lot of theft going on by an Edward Jones who had his dead brother on retainer. Plus, he worked out a way to force another sizable ghost to do his dirty work for him. If there is a human using ghosts, then I’d advise contacting Chicago PD and asking whatever happened to Edward Jones. He’s the only high-end thief who works with ghosts that I know of. There may be others, but I’ve got a feeling…”

  “Edward Jones,” Tom noted.

  “It’s an alias, but I’m sure the police have his real name.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Tom said. “But I’ll follow up on this. The door doesn’t look like the lock has been picked,” he said, shining a light on the knob.

  “If it’s Jones, he would have sent the ghost inside to unlock the door. The goon probably didn’t notice your clever alarm system.”

  “Ingenious, not just clever,” Tom boasted.

  “Before I forget, he may actually have taken up residence in the town or possibly knows the Gifford heir. His specialty is taking things that won’t be missed right away. He may have a fence specializing in antiques… Tom, I may have a way of shortening your search. I’ll get back to you in the morning.”

  “Great, in the meanwhile, I’ll put out an inquiry to Chicago PD. What was the name of the condo building?”

  “Uptown Senior Living Condo, and the recovered diamonds were the Master’s diamonds. Edward Jones would have been charged with fraud, kidnapping, and theft of a very valuable first edition of To Kill a Mockingbird.”

  “Thanks,” Tom said. “And, Mia, thanks for the insistence that I keep salt on me at all times.”

  “You’re welcome,” Mia said beaming. “I’m glad it helped.”

  “What helped?” Ted asked as Mia put down the phone.

  “Tom stopped a human / ghost team from robbing the Gifford place tonight,” she told him. “Which reminds me, I need to talk to Mason before he leaves with Cid and Ira,” she said. Mia kissed the top of Ted’s head as she squeezed by him.

  Ted was typing Ira’s notes into the computer and stopped to ask himself aloud, “Did the entity say look forward or looking forward?” Ted placed a comment to check with Sabine and Ira at tomorrow’s meeting.

  “Mason!” Mia called, just catching him before he opened the van door.

  “Come to kiss me goodbye, girly-girl?”

  “In your dreams, child,” Mia said. “Actually, I have a personal family question to ask you. You don’t have to answer it if it may incriminate…”

  “Patrick,” Mason filled in.

  “Yes, ask him if he knows who may be fencing high-end antiques in the northern Illinois area. Toss in the name Edward Jones and see if it sparks any memories.”

  “Will do. I’m not sure I can get ahold of him until tomorrow, but I’ll leave a voicemail. Can he call you personally, or will the mister blow his top?”

  “Don’t worry, the mister is quite secure regarding Patrick,” Mia assured him.

  “Good, because he was throwing me some looks that was curling my toes, girly-girl.”

  “I think they had more to do with your deceased doppelgänger. But some things just can’t be sorted. They just are.”

  “You’re walking quite a tightrope. Don’t worry though. There are plenty of arms ready to catch you if you fall, girly-girl.”

  Mia stared at Mason and her eyes softened. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

  “No, problem. After all, we’re sorta a family in a whacked-out paranormal way.”

  “Sleep well, and don’t get Inky drunk,” Mia instructed.

  Mason got in the van. Mia followed the van out and shut
the gate behind them. Mike’s car was gone, so she assumed he took Sabine home. For the second night in a row, it was she, Ted, Burt and Murphy on late duty. She was going to insist Ted take a snooze. Her mind was working overtime, and she doubted she would be able to nap. She might as well watch the camera feeds.

  Mia tapped her earcom. “Ted, I’m going to go down and see what Murphy is staring at so intently. When I come back you’re going to take a nap.”

  “Ah, Mom, Burt gets to stay up,” Ted said.

  “Burt’s a big boy,” Mia said laughing.

  “Okay, tell Murphy, if he gets a chance, I’d like to ask him about Sabine’s and Ira’s bilocation investigation.”

  “Will do,” Mia said.

  Murphy felt her essence before she got within twenty feet of him. He turned briefly to assure that Mia saw the new trenches in the dark. “Careful, they’ve been digging here,” he said.

  “I can see that,” Mia said. “It’s amazing how well preserved this sign is. Perhaps the rest of the place is in similar shape.”

  “Do you think he’s in there?” Murphy asked.

  “Don’t you feel him?” Mia asked. “Sometimes families have this inner alarm.”

  “Like, how I sense you’re near?” Murphy asked, distracted.

  “Sort of.” Mia climbed down into the trench where the top corner of the bar was jutting out of the ground. She ran her hand along the exposed roof ridge. “There is a lot of rust on top of here,” she reported. “I’m sure that is acting like a seal of sorts. How did those hooligans get out?”

  “Chimney, and who are you calling a hooligan?” Fergus asked, materializing beside her.

  Murphy raised his axe, but Mia stopped him with a look. “A fellow hooligan. The king of purgatory calls me his dear hooligan.”

  “Yikes, purgatory? I’ve forgotten about that place. I expect I’ll be doing time there too.”