by Alexie Aaron
Ted gave him the information, adding, “We think we know who may be involved, but we have no proof, aside from his interest in this part of the bar.”
“May I have the individual’s name?”
“Hamel Brentwood.”
The name seemed to spark interest in the sergeant’s eyes, but he said nothing.
“He lives down the street at 188G. We were trying to keep this discovery on the down low so we wouldn’t spook him.”
The sergeant nodded. He looked up and down the length of the bar. “Is there a back way in?”
“There is a kitchen door that exits behind the construction trailer,” Mia said, leading him to the kitchen. “Sergeant, there may also be a pocket of natural gas under this building. But it hasn’t been proven yet.”
West wrote this information down. “Why do you suspect this?”
Mia explained them finding a relic of a bar that predates the Chicago fire deep in the lot next door. “There are over a dozen men who died in that bar. By the condition of their remains, we can tell that all but one died calmly as if they were gassed,” Mia said.
West didn’t ask how she knew. Bernard had explained to him that his goddaughter had certain gifts of intuition that he would be smart to pay attention to. He turned to Mr. Martin and said, “I’m going to bring in a dog trained to locate explosives first. I’m going to ask you and your wife to leave the building. We’ll run our operation out of the trailer. If we need to evacuate the neighborhood, we will. I expect if you have this individual under observation, to follow him until the police can bring him in for questioning.”
“Yes sir. But our people aren’t professional police,” Ted warned the sergeant.
“I understand. Could you, for show, go out the front as if nothing is wrong, just in case others are watching?”
Ted nodded and held the door open for Mia and locked it after them. They noticed that a high temporary fence was in the process of being put up by the guardsmen. It made it virtually impossible for anyone from the street to see what was going on behind The Eighty-eight. Cid had pulled out the PEEPs vehicle and parked it a little way down the street. Mia worried about them being locked out of the excavation but understood the military’s problems with having civilians in harm’s way.
Burt jumped out of the back of the command center and suggested, “How about I buy you guys breakfast. Cid’s waiting to drive us over the canal bridge where he thinks we’ll be safe.”
“Let me check in with Murphy first,” Mia said. She closed her eyes and called with her mind. When she opened them, Murphy stood in front of her. “The military are here now. So you guys can stand down as soon as they place someone to watch Hamel. We’re not needed so we’re going down the street across the bridge to the Pancake House. Call me if you need me.”
“Stay safe, Mia.”
“I promise, Murph.”
Dash arrived at the restaurant with Tony and two police detectives. There was a bit of head-butting before the police stood down and listened to Sergeant West. “We have to alert Homeland Security, even though we feel this may be a hate crime. ATF is on their way with their bomb disposal unit. Hamel Brentwood is not unfamiliar to military intelligence. I’m sorry, I can’t elaborate why.”
“I understand, sir,” Dash said. “I’m going to wait down at the Pancake House with the members of PEEPs. Please keep me updated.” Dash handed him his card and the keys to the building.
“Before you go, can you tell me why there are a half dozen salt lamps lit in the excavation?” West asked Tony.
“I can answer that. I’m Mike Dupree from Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners. It’s an experimental try at attracting and lulling ghosts. We were concerned about the patrons of the restaurant.”
“Did it work?” West asked.
“Yes, but I don’t know for how long, so be aware you may not be alone,” Mike said.
“I will take that under advisement. We will be disconnecting the lamps. If there is gas building up down there, we want to minimize the opportunity for a spark.”
“That’s fully understandable,” Mike said.
CRACK! CRACK!
Mike looked alarmed.
CRACK! CRACK!
“That’s the signal that the suspect Hamel Brentwood is on the move,” he explained.
The police detective put the call out that Brentwood was possibly armed with a vest bomb and was very dangerous. He also stressed to take extreme caution in entering 188G, that it may be booby-trapped.
Mia heard Murphy’s warning. She stepped out of the Pancake House and looked down the street. She was surprised to see Kevin and Fergus waiting on either side of the busy street on the other side of the canal bridge. Murphy wasn’t to be seen. Mia turned to go back inside, when her way was blocked by Hamel Brentwood.
Mia quickly assessed the bulk of the man’s jacket and surmised correctly that he was wearing an explosive vest under it.
“You don’t have to do this. You’ve already made your point,” she said calmly, “with your letters and graffiti.”
No emotion seemed to register in the dead black eyes. “Either you come with me or I’ll blow this thing here and now.”
Mia didn’t have to look back into the Pancake House to know that this time of day the breakfast establishment was full of people, especially families having Sunday breakfast together. “Alright, I’m coming.”
“We’re going back to The Eighty-eight.”
“Why? There’s no one there this time of day,” Mia stated.
“Do you know how many times a night I’m disturbed by drunks knocking on my door looking for that piano bar?”
“Why would they do that?”
“My number is 188G.”
“So you’re going to destroy yourself and the bar because of a few people with a bad sense of direction? That’s nuts.”
“No, that’s not all. It’s the neighbors. I started a petition to stop the bar from opening, but the neighbors could have cared less. They thought it would bring the right sort of people into the neighborhood. Right sort indeed? Transvestites, gays, and drunks urinating on my steps on their way home. I didn’t work so hard on my home to see it ruined by those kinds of people.”
“But Mr. Brentwood, there are drunks everywhere in every group of people. I’m sure that Dash could insist on a better decorum from his patrons.”
They had started to cross the bridge. Mia knew this was a bridge with no ley line underneath. If Murphy did show up soon, he wouldn’t have enough power to help her.
“Why me?” Mia asked.
“Because you know too much for your own good.”
“Are you talking about the explosives you’ve planted under the floor of the bar?”
“Yes.”
“They’re gone,” Mia lied. “I got rid of them last night.”
“You bitch!” Hamel said and shook Mia. “You’re going to die with me.”
“I’m pregnant, Hamel.”
Mia hoped this plea would resonate with him and he would ease his hold on her, but one look in Hamel’s dead eyes told her that this wasn’t going to happen.
“Let’s go and talk to the police. Maybe something can be done to help you.”
Hamel marched her over to the edge of the bridge. He opened his jacket. “I’m going to wait until the bridge is full of cars and then you and I are going to hell.”
Mia twisted around and threw all her body weight at Hamel and pushed both of them over the bridge.
Ed saw Mia and the man she was wrestling start to fall over the bridge. And then time stopped. Ed didn’t question why. All he knew was that he didn’t have much time. He abandoned his canoe and climbed up the underside of the bridge. He wrapped his strong legs around a support, reached out and got a firm hold around Mia’s leg with one hand and pried her fingers off the man’s arms with the other, before time resumed. He pulled her to him as Hamel activated the kill switch.
Ted watched as Mia disappeared off the bridge and the explo
sion of water as Hamel’s vest bomb exploded.
He ran onto the bridge and looked down. As the water from the explosion ran off the bridge, it exposed a very large human cradling a very wet Mia in his arms. Below them the water was red, and a few dead fish rose to the surface.
“Hell of a way to go fishing,” Ted said, climbing over the edge to help Ed lift Mia to safety. Ed climbed up. Mia looked at her blood brother in admiration. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. I had just lifted my canoe out of the water when I saw you throw yourself at the man. Time stopped. I climbed up the bridge and got to you before it resumed.
“Roumain,” Mia said under her breath. She looked around but didn’t see him in the crowd.
The sirens sounded from the approaching law enforcement vehicles.
“Um, Ed, you may want to …” Mia nodded towards the water.
“I’ll meet you at your father’s house. Judy and I have been there before,” he said before he started to climb back down the bridge.
By the time the traffic cleared for the emergency vehicles to get there, Ed had safely paddled away. The water was no longer red, only the dead fish and wet bridge paid testament to what had happened to Hamel Brentwood.
Cid had caught the whole thing with the PEEPs camera. But no one asked him about it. Burt stepped in front of the investigator to hide the camera from the detective’s sight.
“Mrs. Martin, are you alright?” one of the Chicago PD asked her. “I saw you go over the side of the bridge.”
“My leg got caught up on something.” She indicated her red ankle. “I’m wet and cold, and I think I have something gross in my hair, but I’ll live.”
“I’m going to have to insist you come to the hospital to get checked out.”
A paramedic approached.
“Check out Mrs. Martin, and see if there is any evidence on her,” the officer ordered.
“Right this way,” the EMT said as she led her to the back of his vehicle.
Mia turned to Ted. “Have Murphy check and see if the Dark Watcher is still there please.”
“I will. Right now, I want you to sit and have this nice young woman look you over.”
Mia sat there as the EMT combed through her hair. “Corporal Ivers,” she called to her partner. “I have DNA in the woman’s hair and more on the back of her shirt. It must have happened when the subject blew himself up.”
“DNA as in?” Mia asked.
“I have part of a finger, and what looks to be intestinal material.”
Mia grabbed a plastic tub and puked.
“Here.” Someone handed the EMT a garment. “Confiscate her clothes and have her wear this.”
Ted watched as Mia wrapped herself in a long elegant duster coat. She lifted the sleeve, smelled the familiar scent of jasmine, and smiled.
Mia rested in the hospital bed. The obstetrics resident had just confirmed that her baby was fine. The doctor had the nurse take the leads off of Mia’s stomach. “We could do an ultrasound.”
“I feel fine and the baby is moving, so I’ll decline,” Mia said pleasantly. She held her hand out to Ted. He took it. Her hand was cold, and his was warm.
“When can I get out of here?” Mia asked.
“As soon as Detective Hardy and Sergeant West question you,” Ted said. “Also, someone from Homeland Security. A woman named…”
“Agent Alessandria Coup,” a serious-faced middle-aged woman said from the doorway. “If I may have some time alone with the witness?”
“This is my wife, and you’ll treat her well or I’ll have to insist we have our lawyer present,” Ted said.
“That is your right,” Agent Coup said. “I’m just here to dot the I’s and cross the T’s.”
Ted and the doctor left the room. The nurse stayed.
“You may leave…” the agent started.
“This is a pregnant woman under my care. I’ll stay, or no interview,” the nurse insisted.
“It’s fine with me,” Mia said. “Although you may hear some things that may disturb you. I’ll be fine. Besides I only have to squeeze this button.”
The nurse left, but not without glaring at the agent.
“Thank you for that,” the agent said.
“What can I help you with?”
“How long have you known Hamel Brentwood?”
“I don’t know him. He stepped on my fingers a few nights ago, and I believe I accidently elbowed him trying to leave The Eighty-eight. It’s all on film. PEEPs will forward you the footage.”
“What is your profession?”
“I’m a part-time handy person. I clear driveways in the winter. I also am a paranormal investigator for the Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners.”
“According to Sergeant West, you suspected that there were explosives under the floor of The Eighty-eight.”
“Correction. I saw that there were tiles reseated with inferior grout and thought that they should be removed and checked for what may have, if anything, been placed under the reseated tiles. My husband found wires and a device he feared may be a detonator. We didn’t want to alarm whom we suspected may be interested in the bar, so PEEPs quietly contacted Sergeant West.”
“Why not Homeland?”
“What if we were wrong? Don’t you have enough on your plate?”
The agent frowned.
“Tell me how it was that you were on the bridge with Hamel Brentwood.”
“I heard something odd coming from the direction of The Eighty-eight while I was in the Pancake House with my husband and the other PEEPs. I walked outside to see if I could determine what, if anything, was happening at the excavation or restaurant. I turned to go back in, but Mr. Brentwood was in front of me. He showed me the explosive vest and threatened to detonate it at the Pancake House unless I walked back to The Eighty-eight with him. The Pancake House was full of families. I chose to leave the premises.”
The agent’s face seemed to ease a bit. “Please continue.”
“I asked him where we were going, and he said, ‘The Eighty-eight.’ I asked him why, and he said something about wanting to destroy the neighbors along with the bar. That’s when I lied and told him that the explosives were long gone. He got angry and stopped in the middle of the bridge. His intention was to wait until traffic filled the bridge because of the street lights on either side. He said, ‘Then you and I are going to hell.’ I pretty much knew I was a goner, but I couldn’t accept him taking the innocent people on the bridge too. I caught him by surprise, twisted around, and took both of us off the bridge. During the fall, my foot got caught up in the bridge support, and the next thing I knew, there was an explosion of water. It pushed me up, and I clung to the side of the bridge. My husband got to me and pulled me to safety.”
The agent pulled the covers away and saw the bandaged ankle with an icepack in place.
“A witness said that you were helped up by a large naked man in a loincloth.”
“Really?” Mia acted surprised. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you there.”
“This witness actually said you were rescued by Tarzan of the Apes.”
“Imagine that,” Mia said. My husband has been called a lot of things, but Tarzan? I hate to think what this will do to his ego.”
“That was a very brave and stupid thing to do, Mrs. Martin,” Agent Coup said.
“I didn’t think. I acted. Something I’ve paid dearly for in the past,” Mia said honestly. “I just had the images of the man who drove by with two infant seats in the back of his car and the school bus heading in the other direction in my head. I sensed the traffic was slowing. I had to do something. I lucked out.”
“My last question... Why were you on The Eight-eight’s premises in the first place?”
“Why, Agent, it’s haunted. PEEPs were there to help.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Ted drove Mia home to the farm. Between the two of them, they had decided that she would sit the remainder of The Eighty-eight’s investig
ation out. For the benefit of those who still may be watching her, she was lifted into the van and a pair of crutches put in the back.
“So what was under the tiles at the bar?” Mia asked Ted.
“Enough TNT to blow up the bar. I don’t think Brentwood knew about the gas buildup under the building. About that, Barb’s group is off limits until they can determine a safe way to siphon the gas safely. Dash’s bar is also closed, but the gas company has offered him a nice compensation package so he will end up okay.”
“What about the ghosties?” Mia asked.
“I expect they’ll hang around until McNally’s can be opened and their remains dealt with. Sabine promised to make daily bilocation pilgrimages to check on the ghosts until the military and gas company leave. Mike and Alan are going to look after PEEPs rights to the footage we have. I have a feeling most of it will never see the light of day. In the meanwhile, we’ve been hired by Bea White.”
“So we’re keeping the boys on?”
“Ira is bunking with us, Mason with Burt. Patrick is staying in the city condo, with your father’s permission.”
“I bet he’s staying to court Sabine?” Mia asked. “Tauni is going to be livid.”
“I don’t know. I thought it had more to do with Kevin Murphy. After all, he is a Callen.”
“Have you had a chance to speak to Murphy?” Mia asked.
“Aside from telling him you’re alright and just faking your injury to get out of cleaning up, no, he was pretty busy with his father.”
Mia laughed. “Ed?”
“He showed up on the doorstep of your parents’ condo with his canoe. Cid’s bringing him and it back with him to the farm as soon as they’re sure the condo isn’t being watched.”
“Brian?”
“My parents have asked for a few more days. My mother’s cousins are having a reunion, and they want to show him off. What do you think?”
“I’ll miss him, but I’d like us to have a few days alone with Dieter too.”
“I agree,” Ted said.
Mia hugged on to the bag that held Roumain’s duster jacket as if it were a life vest. “I’m not sure if I should get this professionally cleaned. I would hate to explain how I got it ruined by the drycleaner.”