Fractured Legacy (Darkness Bound / Frqactured Legacy #1)

by Skye Callahan

  As Mr. Roarch pulled on his own mask, he began the tour. “This is the lobby. Mrs. Sweetwater, the wife of the second owner, used to play a piano from the mezzanine overhead. At that time, the hotel had also become a cultural center for the city. Rooms went for three dollars a night, and the hotel entertained an impressive guest list that included Guy Lombardo.” Despite the hazards under each step, Roarch treated the whole thing like a museum tour.

  This is going to be a long night. Jonah pushed a groan down to the pit of his stomach, where it would wait until he was alone.

  “Where—” Jonah began, tripping over a piece of loose floor he hadn’t noticed. “Where was your crew when they noticed something was off?”

  “Upstairs,” Mr. Roarch growled again.

  So much for pleasantries.

  “The elevator was back there.” Roarch pointed. “It’s currently little more than an empty shaft, but—”

  “That’s where the first owner, Lawrence Teague died.” Kaylyn filled in.

  Mr. Roarch groaned again, but Jonah didn’t bother to hold back his amusement, since the mask hid his expression anyway.

  “We did discuss the history of the hotel earlier this evening,” Jonah added. “We just need to know the details of the incident so we can investigate.”

  The old man set his shoulders in a line. It was obvious that he’d much rather show off his property than talk about any kind of disturbance. He led them to the back corner of the lobby, where a spiral staircase led them up, past a covered window and to the second floor mezzanine. Jonah, ignoring Mr. Roarch’s latest spiel, imagined what the place would have looked in its heyday. A large mirrored structure laid against the far wall, with bits of tattered images and wallpaper around it. Halfway across the expanse, Kaylyn stopped and cocked her head, while Roarch and Cole scampered onward.

  “Kaylyn?” Jonah whispered, nudging her shoulder with his own.

  “Just thought I heard something. It’s kind of hard to tell with him carrying on like a stubborn mule on a mission.” Then her eyes widened and she ducked her head.

  Jonah huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m not going to fault you when you’re right.”

  She nodded, but didn’t move to rejoin the others. “Was he like this on the phone earlier?”

  “Yes.” Their heads snapped toward the short mezzanine wall as something slapped against the ground floor. Creeping toward the edge, they peered over the side. Nothing moved, so they waited in silence.

  “Guys,” Cole yelled from the archway.

  Kaylyn hushed her.

  A large chunk of paint and wallpaper slid from the wall and fell to the floor below with a smack.

  “Are you two stalking falling debris?”

  “I don’t think that’s what we heard,” Kaylyn said, looking to Jonah, who shrugged.

  The sounds were similar, but Cole was probably right, so he brushed Kaylyn forward so they could catch up with Mr. Roarch. He was probably on the top floor by now.

  Although that wouldn’t be a bad thing, since he wasn’t giving them any useful information. Jonah had more important things to waste his time on—like spending more than five minutes in his new house.

  As they passed through the archway, they rejoined Roarch, who stood with his arms crossed over his bulging chest. “This is the area that my contractors were surveying, when they claimed something happened. I got a phone call Monday morning from Rick Santos, claiming that while they were working, the lights went out and there was some kind of strange breeze. Sounds more like an electrical problem and a draft.”

  “Did they give you any other details?”

  Mr. Roarch shrugged. “Rick threatened not to bring his crew back until I at least had someone look around. And, now, I have.”

  “Sir,” Kaylyn said, “I don’t think a quick tour counts. We haven’t even—”

  “The place is not haunted. Why does everyone jump to the conclusion that old buildings are haunted? Yes, the first owner died in the elevator, but it was a crotchety thing. And I think someone would have reported anything strange long before now.”

  Jonah was about to jump in when Kaylyn, once again beat him to it.

  “Your employees experienced something, and you brought us in to figure it out. If you don’t want answers, why waste our time?”

  Jonah jammed his hands into his pockets. “You wanted our best investigators, as Carlisle had promise. We need—” Jonah broke off, hearing another sound from the lobby area.

  “It’s an old building.” Roarch said. “There are strange noises, strange drafts, and sometimes the lights cut out. I’ve spent all afternoon here and there isn’t anything strange. Hell,” he threw his arms in the air, “I’ve spent much of the last two months in this building.”

  Kaylyn’s gaze hardened, as she stared through the skeletal remains of the rooms. “That’s where it happened?” She pointed to the corner.

  Roarch grimaced. “That’s… what they told me.”

  Without looking away from the room, Kaylyn backed toward the Mezzanine.

  “Kay?” Cole took a step toward her sister. “How’d you know that?”

  Jonah followed Kaylyn’s line of sight to the end of the hallway. Nothing was there, yet she looked terrified—not terrified in the normal sense of someone who hadn’t experienced paranormal phenomena, but he knew very well the look it created in the eyes of a seasoned investigator. Her body was straight and rigid,a nd her face slack, except for the tight lines around her eyes.

  A thunderous roar came from the lobby, rising up the staircase and approaching the archway that separated the hallway from the mezzanine. By the time Jonah got to the opening, a man slammed into Kaylyn, pulling her toward the stairs. She stumbled on a pile of plaster and landed on her butt, so the man tried to drag her by her shoulders across the floor. She flailed, unable to gain her footing or reach the man pulling at the collar of her coat. He was a large, muscular man, but Jonah managed to tip him off balance and jerk him away.

  “Milton,” Mr. Roarch yelled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “You can’t be here,” Milton ignored his client, and struggled against Jonah, but his attention remained fixed on Kaylyn.

  She blinked and pressed a hand against the crumbling surface of the wall as Cole helped her to her feet.

  “You have to get out,” Milton jerked. Cole jumped in to help Jonah hold him back.

  “Okay,” Kaylyn said, without wavering. “How about we all go outside for a talk? That seems like a pretty good idea.”

  “N-no. Just out,” Milton said, twisting and breaking free. He grabbed at Kaylyn again, and this time, it took both Jonah and Cole to pull him back.

  Jonah grunted as the man’s arm connected with his side. “Go on.” He nodded to Kaylyn. “Hopefully, if you go, he’ll follow.”

  “Great.” Kaylyn bit her lip but acquiesced. “Just don’t let him grab me on the stairs, please.”

  Together, Cole and Jonah managed to keep the burly man under enough control to get everyone outside without injury.

  Mr. Roarch concerned himself with locking the front door, whether they were done or not, while Jonah and Cole steadied Milton against the exterior wall. Now that they were outside, he was calm and manageable.

  Kaylyn stood close by, pulling her mask off and shoving a hand through her hair to push it away from her face.

  “Are you okay?” Jonah asked as he pulled off his own mask and reached to take Kaylyn’s.

  “Yeah,” she nodded, “he just knocked the wind out of me.”

  “Sorry,” Jonah said. Guilt for letting the crazed man escape from his grip squeezed his throat, worsened by the fact that he’d spent the morning scolding Kaylyn for being caught off guard.

  Kaylyn shrugged it off, wrapping her arms around her middle as the cold wind picked up. “I’m fine.”

  Cole had also removed her mask and was standing next to Milton. “You were one of the workers who experienced something upstairs?”

 
He nodded once.

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Kaylyn and Jonah stood back, nearly shoulder to shoulder, while Cole coaxed the information out of the man. His answers were slow, but bit by bit, she gained his trust and the needed information.

  “The room. It wants you in the room. It didn’t want to let me go. Exerted all the energy to get me in there, but it still wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

  “Did you see it?” Cole asked.

  “Dark.”

  “It was too dark to see it?”

  “Dark.” Milton shook his head, “The thing…it was dark.”

  “Anything else? Did you smell anything?”

  “Smoke.”

  “Like sulfur?”

  “Just smoke. Wood burning.”

  Milton’s skin seemed to be greying. Every breath was long, deep, and labored as the brick wall of the building supported most of his weight. Kaylyn stepped away, forcing Jonah’s attention away from the scene in front of him. As he watched her walk out to the curb, he suddenly wondered where Mr. Roarch had gone off to. The BMW was still parked at the curb, but there was no sign of him on the sidewalk. It was barely half-past five, and they were lucky to be in a relatively quiet part of town. Even during rush hour, it was easy enough to escape the attention of the few strangers who milled by.

  Kaylyn returned, tugging on the back of Jonah’s sleeve, she nodded toward the corner of the building and he followed.

  “I think he should be seen by a doctor, so I called for an ambulance.”

  “Best to be safe.”

  “Not sure if he’ll go, but I told them that he might panic, so they’ll approach with caution. What happened to Mr. Roarch?”

  Jonah shook his head. “I was just wondering that, myself.”

  With one cold gust, the wind blew his coat open and he stepped back to the front of the building to get out if its path of attack.

  “Welcome to winter in Ohio. It’ll probably be shorts and T-shirt weather tomorrow,” Kaylyn teased.

  “Sounds lovely. You know cold weather isn’t going to get rid of me, right?”

  With a sigh, Kaylyn mimicked him, putting her hands in her pockets and drawing in her coat. “What now, boss?”

  The sarcasm was evident, but Jonah wasn’t jostling for a fight, so he brushed it off. “It’s your case.”

  Kaylyn waved to her sister, then held her index finger up and made a small circle. Cole nodded, and went back to speaking with Milton.

  Jonah raised an eyebrow in question when she took a step toward him.

  “Knowing each other for more than twenty years can make communication convenient.”

  “I noticed. What’d you tell her?”

  “That I—or we—are going to have a look around.”

  Jonah chuckled. “Just out of curiosity, did you two invent a sign for—?”

  “Don’t.”

  Jonah laughed, but her jaw tightened and she remained silent. Probably a wise decision.

  “So,” she began speaking in a whisper when they reached the back of the building, “what do you suggest we do? Mr. Roarch isn’t exactly…”

  “If he doesn’t cooperate, there isn’t much we can do. Although Milton’s information might give us enough to force his hand.” Jonah tugged on her elbow so she’d look at him. “What happened to you inside, before Milton jumped you?”

  She stopped and leaned her back against the wall. At least in this tight alley, the wind was blocked from most angles, but it smelled like metal and old garbage, coated in burned grease from a fast-food restaurant.

  “It just felt like the air was heavy, hard to breathe. I got a little dizzy, then I got plowed over.”

  Kaylyn tried to break away, but Jonah clasped her shoulders. Secrets and half-assed reports weren’t going to fly with him and it was about time Kaylyn realized it. “That doesn’t explain the look on your face when you asked about the room.”

  “There’s something there. I can’t explain it, because it all happened really fast.”

  It was true, there had only been seconds between the horrified look on her face and Milton charging up the stairs. He was skeptical, but she met his glare and returned it with equal intensity, so he nodded and backed away.

  “Looks like a back door.” Kaylyn pointed to a space in the wall, where a short flight of stairs led down to a battered piece of plywood. “Wonder if it works.”

  Jonah waited in the back lot, a couple of feet from the stairs, where he could look out for Mr. Roarch while Kaylyn crept closer to the door.

  “It’s not locked,” she said, pulling it open a crack. It obviously took some effort, but that could explain how Milton had gotten in to the stairs so quickly. She gave the door another tug.

  “Get back up here, Kaylyn,” Jonah hissed. For all they knew, Roarch could be on the other side of that door, and that wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

  The door thudded and slid open another two inches. That was definitely the sound they’d heard inside, but damn it if she wasn’t going to draw Mr. Roarch’s attention. Jonah jumped down the stairs, pulling her arms away from the door.

  Kaylyn jumped away from him. “Easy.”

  “Easy? I told you to get away from the damn door.” No wonder Carlisle couldn’t manage the office. He’d gone insane and his employees had driven him to it.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him as he pushed the door closed, carefully and without a sound.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t hear you.”

  He shook his head and pulled her up the stairs. Sometimes, I wonder if you hear anything, he bit the words back. All he wanted to do was get this night over with. They walked around the corner and up the tight walkway between buildings to rejoin Cole on the sidewalk. Wherever Mr. Roarch had been, he had now reappeared and was talking to one of the paramedics who was attending to Milton.

  Cole spotted them and sprinted over. “Medic said his vitals are way off—bp, pulse, and O2 sats are really low.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to thank Kaylyn for calling the paramedics, but the sentiment was drowned by the voice telling him to fire her for her inability to listen. As the medics loaded Milton into the ambulance, Roarch trudged over to join their somber group.

  “So, you’ll be dealing with this case, then?”

  Jonah clenched his jaw to keep it from falling open. It wasn’t just his employees—he was beginning to reason that everyone in the town must be insane. “Do you want us to investigate, or not? You know that it’ll require far more than a brief tour, right?”

  “Yes,” Roarch spoke through gritted teeth.

  “We’ll need access to the building.” Jonah was done with niceties, so he added, “Without your presence.”

  Roarch glared back, but pulled his keys from his pocket and handed over the key to the padlock on the front door. “Fine. Just figure it out. Soon.”

  Jonah stared at the key in his hand as the old man walked away.

  “So. We’re on the case?” Cole asked, her brow wrinkled in half a dozen ways.

  Rubbing his eyes, Jonah shook his head. He wanted nothing more than to get home and go to bed—once he managed to track down sheets and a pillow anyway. “We’ll discuss it in the morning.”

  They said their good nights, but before Jonah could get away, Kaylyn tugged on the back of his coat sleeve.

  “Sir?”

  “Jonah. I said call me Jonah.”

  “Jonah,” she repeated, with a look as if it pained her. “Did you hear something by the back door?”

  “Only the sound you made trying to open it.”

  “No voices?” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I heard a woman. I couldn’t make anything out but it… went quiet as soon as you grabbed my arm.”

  He relaxed a bit, taking in the strained expression on her face, while his fingers went to the pendant hidden under his shirt. “I didn’t hear anything. Thanks for bringing it up. We’ll figure out how to proceed in th
e morning.”

  He watched her retreat back to the black Mustang before he hiked up the hill and around the corner to his own car.

  Kaylyn

  After three cups of stale coffee and four hours of pouring through all of the historical records the local library had on the Teague Hotel, the comfortable chairs of the office were a welcome sight. Kaylyn found her sister in one of the small offices on the second floor, and collapsed in an armchair across from her. “My head is going to explode.”

  “Sorry, sis, wish I had time to be sympathetic, but I got a bite and if I don’t head out now, I’ll be late for the meeting.” Cole grabbed up her belongings and shoved a folder toward Kaylyn. “Here’s what I’ve got so far. Sorry, but it’s going to be up to you to update Jonah.”

  Kaylyn started to protest, but the clicks of her sister’s boots rang through the hallway before she could muster a response. “Lucky me.”

  As soon as she opened the file to familiarize herself with Cole’s reports, Jonah knocked on the doorway and entered the small office.

  “Afternoon, Kaylyn,” he said, taking Cole’s vacant seat at the desk.

  “Sir. I was just going over everything so I could update you but—”

  “Where’s Cole?”

  Kaylyn cleared her throat, waiting for her brain to stop spinning like the numbers on a slot machine. She figured Cole would have at least cleared her “fishing” expedition. “She went to interview someone.”

  “Who?” Jonah sat forward and extended his hand to take the folder.

  Kaylyn’s eyes grew bigger. This conversation was already taking a turn for the latrine. “She rushed out and didn’t tell me.”

  “Guess you’re not the only one I have to worry about then,” he sighed. “What do you have?”

  “I went through all of the records at the library. There were a few deaths at the hotel. In addition to the first owner dying, there was a bad accident involving a patron, a couple heart attacks, but generally nothing out of the ordinary until 1986. Right before the hotel closed, there was a fire in one of the rooms on the second floor: 211. The reports were vague, but it seems like there was a woman in the room, whose body was never discovered. I’ll need to dig into it more, a short article in a newspaper was all the information the library had.”