Meanwhile, Kevin convinced a couple of local ghosts to keep an eye out for “big and stupid”. Naturally, this cost me a promise to help those two find their way to pass on – which made this another one of those times when it really did seem like I was running a charity outfit for misfit ghosts.
Candace McKenna was a sight for sore eyes and let me tell you, my eyes were positively suffering! It was good to be wanted. A woman driving hours just to see me when I offered little except my company was a real shot in the arm. Mom insisted that she wanted to say hello to the deputy. It made me feel a bit like I was still a teenager, but it was nice to see that they were getting along.
Climbing into her car, she smiled. “Your mom’s very nice.”
I chuckled at her diplomacy, “She tries. You’re the first girlfriend I think she’s really gotten along with. Frankly, it worries me.”
“Well, I am notoriously hard to dislike. It’s an old joke, but who doesn’t like Candy?” Her southern belle accent was tinged with amusement.
I patted my jacket. Several bottles of filings and a nice little iron chisel that I’d found in Megan Rosemont’s garage were there. Both the sword and the pipe wrench would have been too awkward to carry in good clothes.
Catching me looking around as her car pulled out of the driveway, she chided me slightly and firmly squeezed my thigh, “Ya oughta calm down there, sugar. I don’t reckon, that ghost of yours is gonna be able to follow us.”
I noted the UPS driver stopping at my house as it retreated into the distance. “I’m sure I can take him, but I just don’t want him finding out about the other ghosts that want me dead. Everything I know about him says that he’s the impatient type, so I don’t think I’ll have to wait long.”
We spent a few minutes catching up on the few odds and ends that didn’t come up in our emails or telephone conversations and sensing that I needed the distraction, she went into a lengthy story from her past featuring the antics of a fifteen year old hellraiser and a nine year old tagalong named Jenny. Pulling into the restaurant, she was just finishing up the rather amusing tale including citing what penal codes the two of them violated.
“That’s probably why Jenny was so surprised to see me in a uniform. Everyone always ‘spected that I’d end up spending a lot of time around cops, I figured that I might as well get paid for it.”
There was a pleasant interlude of maybe five or ten seconds of silence which abruptly ended with our lips mashing together like a couple of school kids on their first date. I suppose it would have been funny if I’d thought about it, but I was otherwise occupied at the time.
Several wet, sloppy kisses later and an instance involving my hand finding a particularly ticklish spot on her body, we separated. Candy flashed me a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin and said, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and I need to get some fuel for the dance club. Oh don’t give me that face; ya know there’s more where that came from – much more.”
Damn all women who tease. Damn them to hell!
I was more than a bit uncomfortable during our meal. Originally, I’d wanted a table booth in the corner, but considering, old Charlie could come through either the floor or the wall itself, that wasn’t a great plan. After giving the hostess at Red Lobster a fit, we ended up along the window at a table.
Added to my discomfort was the physical presence of Ms. McKenna. Once her nice leather jacket was removed, the dreaded little black dress made another appearance. Ignoring, or perhaps savoring my appraisal, she proceeded to nibble and make small talk with me, all while playing a bit of “footsie” under the table.
Damn all women who can tease – especially when they can multitask!
I did my level best to ignore her cruel game. Hell, I’d been dancing with her before. It was only going to get worse at the club. Still, I kept the presence of mind to occasionally look for Charlie, who hadn’t made an appearance so far.
“Mike, I wanted to wait until I was face to face with you, but my supervisor was wondering if ya might wanna come down and check out some of the other cemeteries and crime scenes. He’s got one or two cold cases that he’d be pleased as I don’t know what to solve. I don’t think they’d foot the bill for you to stay in a hotel, but I reckon that I can find a place to put you up for a few days.” She smiled sweetly before continuing. “Both have the standard reward, but one has a nice little chunk of change attached to it.”
Okay, so Candy was teasing me, offering me a mini-vacation at her place, and a chance to pick up some cash! It was way too early to say I loved this girl, but I could definitely say there was a lot to like.
“I should be done with the winter session by the Martin Luther King holiday. I could come down there over the three day weekend and you can show me what a good time in Roanoke is like.” I grinned, giving her a taste of her own innuendo as I reached under the table and ran my hand on the back of her calf.
“Great! I don’t wanna sound all mercenary and what not, but I’m hoping that if ya can help me solve one or two of these here old cases that I might be in line for a little old promotion.”
Most of my ghost work lately was a run of charity cases; I was still smarting over how ten grand of reward money seemingly evaporated overnight. I certainly didn’t mind this offer. “Well, you scratch my back and I will definitely scratch yours, Candace.”
“I’ll do more than just scratch, sugar.”
Did I mention that there was a lot to like about Candy McKenna?
I was in much better shape since the last time I’d gone dancing with Candy. The metal rod in my leg still ached a bit, but nothing a couple of well timed pain relievers couldn’t handle. Still just after midnight, she decided she’d had enough of this standup foreplay and wanted to get onto the main event.
She’d rented hotel room for the weekend to avoid that air of discomfort of being under the same roof with my mom. Instead, we’d be under the same roof with a bunch of strangers.
Our room was on the fourth floor and quite honestly, I wasn’t much interested in the décor. My philosophy is less is better, whether it’s wall coverings, floral arrangements, or Candy’s clothes. Once inside, we went after each other like a pair of dogs in heat until she broke away.
“Why don’t ya just sit back and relax and I’ll slip off to the bathroom and freshen up for a sec?”
I couldn’t argue with her plan. “You’re still teasing me.”
“I know, but you’re a big boy. Besides, the wait is almost over…”
Our witty banter continued for a minute or two until she opened the bathroom door and leaned against the doorway. She was wearing only her earrings and a necklace and silhouetted by the dim light of the bathroom.
Looking anything but innocent, she sweetly asked, “Do ya like what ya see?”
“No complaints here Officer McKenna. Never thought that I’d look forward to the prospect of a strip search.”
As she sauntered across the carpet, I was thinking that this was the perfect end to the perfect night.
Of course, that was right about the time that the fire alarm went off and the sprinklers cut on.
“Shit!” I growled.
Candy let out several colorful expressions of her own, while darting back into the bathroom to retrieve her clothes. I could hear a small horde of angry people in the hallway as well. At least we weren’t alone in our misery. I struggled into my own clothes knowing that the lobby was only so big and there were going to be a whole mess of wet people down there.
She finished just ahead of me and came out with her toiletries and tossed them into her overnight bag. “Shake a leg, Mike.”
When Candy opened the door, the massive frame of Charlie Snowden stood in the doorway. She looked right through him. “I don’t see any smoke. I wonder if they had a malfunction or sumptin?”
“Time to die, Ross!”
I was already pulling the chisel out of my jacket. It was a smart move on Charlie’s part. The sprinklers limited what I coul
d do with the iron filings. The small room prevented me from maneuvering. His size versus my speed; the cards were stacked in his favor.
He rushed through Candy and I could see her shiver. I shouted, “Candy! Get out of here!”
“Mike! What is it?”
Struggling with the ghost, I didn’t have time to answer her. The momentum carried us onto the queen sized bed and then we rolled onto the floor as a singular mass of knees, elbows, fingers and teeth. I jammed the chisel into his shoulder and he yelped in pain. His weight came down on my chest and I felt all the wind leave me instantly. His fist mashed into my jaw and I saw stars, but I jabbed the chisel into his back repeatedly.
Holding the metal against his flesh was like searing him with a branding iron; he struggled to get off. Snowden rolled away, through the bed, leaving me gasping for breath. I couldn’t afford to wait and let him recover. Ignoring my pain, I scrambled back over the bed and came down on of him as he was coming out the other side. I managed another stab with the tool, but he violently pushed me off and then sank through the floor.
Candy stood wide-eyed having caught most of the action. From her perspective it must have looked bizarre, especially when I was hovering in the air before being tossed like a rag doll.
I pulled myself up using one of the wet chairs. My left leg protested furiously and I was forced to hobble a bit. “C’mon, let’s get out of here!”
She helped me towards the stairwell. We got to the landing of the third floor when Charlie came crashing through the wall and into us. He wasn’t looking so hot either. Wisps of grey smoke seemed to be rising off of him.
Candy caught herself on the banister, but Charlie and I took a tumble down the unforgiving steps. Fortunately, my weight came down on him, but I took at least one hard whack to the noggin. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and felt Snowden’s arm slapping against my back. Confused, I look back at him and saw my chisel jammed into the side of his neck.
He flopped like a fish, screaming for help while he disintegrated before my eyes. Like anyone was going to help that son of a bitch! He faded out of sight and the chisel dropped the few inches to the concrete with a slight ping.
“Oh Mike, just lie still. I’ll go get some help.” Candy said trying to reassure me. Not a problem, I wasn’t going anywhere.
I know I’ve probably mentioned this before, but it warrants repeating, I hate hospitals. According to my original schedule I should have been basking in the afterglow of sexual gratification. Instead, the only glow around was the fluorescent lighting above the bed in the hospital room I’d been moved to. An equally dissatisfied Candace McKenna sat in the chair in the corner, listening while the doctor gave me the run down.
“Well the X-rays on your ankle and leg came back negative, Mr. Ross. It looks like you’re probably looking at a hyper extended knee and a sprained ankle to go along with your concussion. The good news is both the CT and the MRI of your head were normal. The rod in your leg is actually titanium and not steel, but we had to verify that before giving you the MRI. For the ankle, you’ll be on crutches for a few weeks, but all things considered, you could have been hurt much worse. We need to keep you under observation for awhile. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
That sounded so much more civil than “All things considered my ass!” The two of us were silent until he left.
“Well at least I’ve got proof now that I’m not brain damaged.”
Candy looked momentarily angry before shaking her head, “Any more than ya already are! I spoke to your mom and she’s going to come by after church to keep you company. I’ll stay until then, but I haveta be back on the road this afternoon.”
“You know, Candy, our dates don’t seem to be going very well. I hope that’s not a sign.”
She got up and came over to kiss me. “Me too, sugar. Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, we can get you down my way and away from all these nasty ghosts and whatnot. If there’s a silver lining to be had, I’m guessing that ya can lawyer up and get the hotel for a chunka change.”
I hadn’t thought of that up until that point, but she had a decent idea. After all, due to some unknown malfunction, the sprinklers went off. I fell out of bed and hurt my knee. Our wet shoes caused me to slip and fall down a flight of stairs. All of this was certainly the hotel’s responsibility.
At least, that’s the way it would read on my claim.
Late Sunday evening, mom drove me back to the house in my Saturn. When she asked, I’d stuck to the slip and fall story.
“Pastor Duncan’s finally back from Alabama. His sermon was good, but you can sense that he’s sad about his sister passing on. He sends his prayers and told me that Brother Silas would be giving you a phone call tomorrow morning. Are you going to be able to make your classes? I can probably go in a little late if you need me to drop you off.”
I answered her. “That’ll work. I can just get up earlier, so it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anyway, don’t ask how, but there were already two messages from lawyers on the machine when I got back from church, though I think one of them is the folks representing the hotel chain. Don’t let them push you into a settlement. When I’m at my cleaning job tomorrow, I can ask the attorney at NIST what he thinks about your situation.”
I shook my head skeptically and laughed. Maybe it was the pain meds speaking, “Two things to live by, don’t trust lawyers and don’t trust the government. If that’s the case, a government lawyer is the last person I should talk to!”
She seemed offended and proceeded to tell me what a nice man that lawyer was, but I was too tired and jacked up on pain killers to really pay much attention. I simply listened to the easy listening radio station she had on and watched the buildings go by.
It wasn’t until we were approaching the driveway that my drifting attention snapped back into focus. I was surprised to see a man sitting on the curb. Considering what I could do, it was just about as shocking as seeing someone like Abe Lincoln or JFK perched there.
He waved at me as we pulled in. Mom ignored him, “Do you need any help, son? You look a bit pale.”
“No thanks. I spent a good deal of rehab on crutches, just go ahead and grab the door.” I probably could have used the help, but I needed a moment or two with my visitor.
“Oh, in all the mess I forgot to tell you that you got a package yesterday.”
“Really? Who from?” I think I already knew the answer, but I just wanted to hear it from her.
“Sonya Hodges in Texas, your friend Don’s widow. I hope she’s doing well, all things considered. It’s on the counter waiting for you. Take your time, Mike.”
I let her go ahead before slowly swinging my legs out and positioning the crutches to support my weight. I addressed my visitor. “Hey Don, long time no see. How’s Sonya?”
My deceased war buddy sized me up. Don wasn’t the mountain of muscle that Charlie Snowden was, but the Texan was tall, fast, and loved martial arts. His dirty blond hair was replaced with a stark white color – like a bad bleach job. Peering closely, I could still see the faint outline of the tattoos on the back of his hands and the ones visible on the edge of his neck.
“She’s been doing okay. I had to get out of Texas. It’s hard to watch your old lady going out with other guys.”
“Understandable, what brings you up this way?”
“Saw an article in a tabloid. Wanted to see if it was the truth. Looks like it is.”
“So, you need help crossing over?”
He laughed at me. “Oh, hell no! I came up to have some fun. You know, live a little? Sorry, bad joke. Say, what’s with this barrier that I can’t get through?”
“Some other ghosts have different ideas of fun. Killing me tops their list.”
Don got a somber look on his face. “Well then, we’ll just see about that won’t we? The first cavalry always takes care of their own, right?”
/> “Damn straight! Grab my hand. Once I escort you across, you’re good to go.” Considering Don’s unhealthy obsession concerning anything with a blade, I hoped he might be able to show me a few things.
I pulled him through, but with one hand in my pocket full of filings, in case he made a hostile move. He didn’t. Instead, he whacked me on my back and let out a whooping yell causing the neighbor’s dog to start howling again.
A smile crossed my face and I said, “All done now?”
The burly Texan chuckled, matching my grin, “Done? Done? Shit! I ain’t even started! Let the good times roll!”
Episode 9: Location, Location, Location
People say greed like it’s a dirty word. Greed is simply raw and naked want. What’s wrong with a little want? I suppose too much of a good thing can be bad, but too much of anything good wasn’t a regular occurrence in my life up to that point. The casino I was standing in made a living off of other people’s greed.
Why was it that my greed is a bad thing and theirs was just good business? I’ll admit to having a little advantage – namely an accomplice that only I could see and hear watching the cards. There’s a saying out there that the house never loses. Never? That word was so inflexible. How about, almost never, except when Mike Ross comes to town?
“Hole card’s a four, Mike!” Don’s voice called out. From his kneeling position he enjoyed a great view of the dealer’s cards, as well as her other assets. Unlike Kevin McNeil, another dead friend of mine, my former Sergeant thought the idea of a ride up to Atlantic City was a fantastic idea. As soon as my medical retirement check rolled in, I convinced Rusty, a still living friend, that we both needed a road trip. I’d lost track of Rusty once I got to the blackjack table. My guess was he was either dropping some coins in a slot machine somewhere, or hitting on a couple of NYU coeds who’d come down for the weekend.
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