The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  Murphy dropped his axe and smacked his knee.

  “Please,” Mia’s voice softened, “take care of yourself, and watch out. There’s bad stuff that has been building for a while, and it’s starting to play out.”

  Murphy put up his hands and shrugged.

  The sound of hoof beats filled the air. Murphy spun around, and Mia looked up. Over on the hillside was One Feather riding as if hell dogs were on his trail.

  Mia glanced at her watch, surprised by the time. “Just look at him ride.”

  ~

  Whit put his boots back on and walked over to see what Mia was intently staring at. Her face was filled with wonder.

  “Whatcha doing?” Whit turned in the direction of her gaze. He didn’t see anything, but he thought he heard a noise like a galloping horse.

  “Just taking in the scenery,” Mia said, opting out of any long explanation. The poor guy had a lot to take in already, and she didn’t want to give him a nervous breakdown.

  “I changed my mind, two dozen cookies aren’t enough.”

  “You want money? More cookies? Money and cookies?”

  “Nope, I want you to take a look at the house Sherry wants us to buy before we make an offer,” Whit said, looking from her to the hillside, trying to figure out what she was seeing.

  “You’re still considering one of the hollow houses?”

  “Yep, the big brick one with the wraparound porch.”

  “If I remember correctly, that’s the one that is closest to the church,” Mia said thoughtfully. She broke her gaze and looked up at Whit. “I haven’t been there in years. I’ll do it, but not alone. And I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing. Just get the keys without telling big mouth and meet me there tomorrow morning about ten.”

  “How about eleven? I have to show up in court. I caught a driver going fifty miles over in a school zone.” His eyes lit up and he grinned ear to ear.

  Mia whistled. “That’s going to mean a lot of income for the town. Okay, eleven.” She turned back to the hillside.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Right now, nothing. Let’s get going. Your wife is going to wonder where you are.”

  “Sherry trusts me.”

  “You think so? Hell, if you were mine, I’d lock you in the garage until you got it cleaned.”

  “You and what army?” Whit goaded.

  Mia grabbed his hand and pulled his finger backward.

  “Ouch, damn that hurts.”

  “Just remember, size isn’t everything,” Mia counseled.

  “I’m telling my mom. Big Carol is so going to beat you up,” Whit said, rubbing his hand. “Bully.”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Mia nodded a farewell to Murphy as she climbed into her truck.

  Whit followed her, and as they pulled away, he asked, “Where is he?”

  “To your right by the barn.”

  Whit waved in that direction. Murphy almost dropped his axe he was so surprised.

  Chapter Eight

  Mike’s mother fetched the crew another round of beers. She was pushing seventy and arthritic. Still the woman was a born nurturer, and no twist-off cap was going to get in the way of serving her son and his friends. Mike had been living with his mother since his decision to go pro with PEEPs. The money he saved on rent was poured into gadgets and an internet site.

  Burt was the goldmine that Mike ran into at the Paranormal Exchange Symposium. He had actually seen and filmed ghosts. The two of them conversed for a while on the internet, and Burt invited Mike along on several of his hunts. They mostly spent their time in graveyards, easy pickings, and moved up to haunts. They took the cases rejected by the four other very public teams out there.

  When the networks started looking for crews to compete with the number one team, PEEPs was contacted, and Mike quickly formed a partnership with Burt. The two of them actively sought out team members, some disgruntled former hunters, others geeks with a love of the paranormal.

  The group needed to prove they could come up with thirteen shows a year to get picked up by the majors. Cable wanted six, but the shows would have to be quality and deliver actual proof. The signing bonus would get the group out of the red and provide salaries for the partners.

  “Okay, thanks to Rose of Restoration Realty, we have rooms at a local B&B. She negotiated a great price. Also, she had Mia put out lit markers on the roads leading in and out of the Johnston place. Don’t know how she did it, but the local chamber of commerce paid for them. Also, we have free meals at Minnie’s Pie Shack and Sam’s Sub Shop as long as we mention them twice on camera.” Mike looked up from his notes at the group around his mother’s dining room table. “I don’t have to tell you how important this one is.”

  “Fame and fortune,” giggled Amber who wiggled her voluptuous rear end in the dining room chair.

  “That and...”

  “A real haunting, one full body apparition, and as of last night, a black mass,” Burt chimed in.

  The young man and two women gave a collective gasp. Mike loved the drama and wished they had this on film. There were reasons that the cameras weren’t rolling. One, he didn’t want the world to know he was still living at home, and Ma didn’t allow the “damn things” in her house.

  “Speaking of Mia... What’s her last name?” Burt asked.

  “Cooper,” supplied the tall brunette woman next to Amber. Beth was the researcher in the group. There wasn’t a database she didn’t know how to access.

  Burt nodded. “Cooper. Any more info on her?”

  “Single, parents live in Florida. Lives off the interest from an inheritance left to her by her grandmother on her father’s side of the family. Does odd jobs to augment income. Last year, she pulled in twelve thousand,” Beth listed.

  “Nothing on her activities?” Mike tapped his pencil on the yellow legal pad.

  “Just hearsay and rumors. Rose claims the woman sees dead people, but she could be lying. Rose not Mia,” Beth clarified.

  “There’s something there,” Burt chimed in. “I know I heard something out by the woodpile, and Mia heard it too.”

  “Doesn’t make her clairvoyant if you heard it,” Amber pointed out.

  “She’s got a point there,” Ted chimed in. “Disembodied sounds,” he all but drooled. “If there’s sound, maybe we can capture an image,” Ted said and started making a list of things he would need to accomplish the impossible.

  “Nah, there’s something in Mia Cooper that maybe we could use. Amber, see if you can make a connection with her when we arrive. You know...”

  The younger woman sighed, “I’ll see what I can do. This isn’t an exact science as you know.” She thought a moment. “I don’t get it. You have me, why do we need another sensitive?” Amber asked. She’d heard this Mia was a looker and did not want to give up any camera time to a pretty girl. Amber knew the only true skills she brought to the team besides her so-called psychic abilities were her double-Ds.

  “Guys, Beth and I had a further look into this area that April Johnston lives in, and it’s got a history of unexplained phenomena,” Mike pointed out. “If it’s there, this Mia knows where, what and who. I’ll bet the farm on that.”

  “Not my farm, dear,” Mrs. Dupree said as she put out some Chex mix on the table.

  “Just an expression, Ma,” Mike reassured her. “Okay, let’s go over the equipment list and schedule. Time’s a wasting. We have a hell of a drive ahead of us tomorrow so let’s make this an early night.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sherry stood in front of the large house and admired its strong lines. The early morning dew clung to the evergreen bushes anchoring the steps. She walked up to the porch, stopping to caress the wood pillar supporting the roof. She tried the door and found it locked. It didn’t disappoint her. She just wanted to be there with “her” house. It made her feel good.

  “You want the MoMA,” a voice drifted in her mind, “you need to open yourself up to inspiration.
” Sherry shook her head to clear the heavy feeling. “I could really create here.”

  “Step one, get the house,” Sherry said aloud. “Step two, the MoMA.”

  “Open yourself, open...”

  Sherry spun around and thought she saw, for just a moment, a man standing in the yard. The beeping of her watch’s alarm alerted her to her need to get back to town to pick Whit up at the courthouse. Her house would have to wait, but not her dreams. They started to fester inside of her, causing an urgency she never felt before.

  ~

  Mia pulled her truck in beside Whit’s car and took her time getting out. She almost turned around twice on her way into the hollow. The last time she had been here, the place was filled with construction vehicles. It had been easy to nose around; no one paid particular attention to one more work-shirt-clad person. She had walked into the white clapboard and admired the restoration of the majestic stairway. Her eyes followed each carved post upwards, polished birds flying, nesting amongst shiny ivy leaves.

  A workman was sanding a riser. Mia directed her question to him, “Did you make these?”

  “Nope, they were already here. All we did is clean them up and fill in a few spots where mice had gnawed.”

  Mia put her hand tentatively on the newel post. “Mind if I go up?”

  “Place’s for sale. If you see something you like,” he reached into his top pocket and produced a card, “just give me a call. Name’s Bob.”

  Mia nodded and stepped carefully around Bob as she climbed the stairs. Her attention was on the carved posts. She took her time and admired each one. She didn’t see the gray swirling mist on the second floor until she walked into it.

  Smoke filled her lungs, and she heard screaming. “No, I won’t go back there. Never, never! Do you hear me?” Mia saw the back of a retreating child, a boy, four maybe five years old. A larger form shot through Mia, making her nauseous. “Come back here!” the voice boomed as the figure gave chase.

  Mia reached out and grabbed the top newel post. The contact broke the vision, but the nausea remained. She made her way back down the stairs as quickly as she could without seeming like a total whack job. The fresh air enveloped her like a loving embrace, and she breathed deep to calm her stomach. Backing away from the house, she scanned the windows upstairs. She wanted to know if the child escaped but didn’t want to witness what happened if he didn’t make it out.

  Each window stared back at her, nothing. She relaxed some more but continued her retreat. She had just made her truck when out of the middle window the glass blew outward as a chair tumbled out and fell. After it came a child crawling over the sill and balancing on the top of the porch. Then nothing. It stopped. The window returned, and there was no child.

  Mia had left the site spinning gravel and never returned until now.

  ~

  A soft tapping jolted her from her memories. She rolled down her window. “Sure I can’t talk you out of this?”

  Whit was all smiles. “A deal is a deal.”

  Mia took a deep breath before getting out. She made sure her keys were in her pocket and there were extra keys under the truck’s mat, just in case. She wasn’t going to take the chance of not being able to leave this place.

  “Which one is it?” she tried to sound bored.

  “The brown brick number,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. “I want to show you something first.” He guided her towards the field beside the house. “Do you think this will be a problem?”

  Mia stared at the field and recognized the lumps of vegetation-covered stones as grave markers. She took a small step and waited. She felt fine. The ground was still consecrated. A few more steps, and as she reached down to pull some weeds in order to read the marker, she felt a presence. Looking up, she saw a beautiful woman, about twenty-something. The woman smiled at Mia.

  Mia nodded and worked harder at clearing the marker. “Daisy Sprigs,” she read. “I can’t quite see the date. I wonder if there is a record somewhere.”

  “Dunno.”

  “I wonder...” Mia got up and walked around the graveyard, careful of the stones. No one else came to greet her to her relief. Daisy followed for a while but soon lost interest.

  “Well,” Whit pushed, “Is this going to be a problem?”

  “What?” Mia looked at him as if trying to figure out a foreign language. “Oh, oh, the graveyard, a problem.” She looked around again. “I don’t think so. It probably would be nice if someone cleaned it up. I think they would appreciate it,” she said dreamily.

  “They? What?” Whit was spellbound. “You mean the dead?”

  “That’s who you usually find around gravestones,” Mia said, sarcasm coloring her last few words.

  “Mia...”

  “As far as I can tell, everyone who is here or was here is fine. I don’t see them waking you up at night. No, there’s no one left here that will cause you too much of a problem.” Mia qualified, “As far as I know.”

  Whit breathed a sigh of relief.

  “This graveyard is still consecrated. The grounds have been blessed. Did you know the one in town isn’t?”

  “How can that be?”

  “Don’t know, but as the whole town is aware, I won’t go near it.”

  “Is it hard, being you?”

  “Lonely, maybe, but that’s the card I was dealt.”

  “Don’t you mean cards? Decks and decks full of crazy eights?” Whit teased.

  Mia laughed and smiled. Whit couldn’t remember seeing her smile like that before. She was beautiful when she smiled.

  “Come on, let’s check out your house before I change my mind,” Mia said, glancing at something Whit couldn’t see as she walked out of the lot. “You know, maybe a nice iron fence with a gate,” she suggested.

  “One thing at a time. First, the house.” Whit pointed at the massive brick.

  Mia saw before her a two-story house with a refurbished wraparound porch. As she stepped onto the property she didn’t feel anything, but it was early times yet.

  “I never heard of these places being haunted,” Whit said.

  “Sometimes, as I understand it, when people start tearing down walls and shoring up foundations, all that disturbance causes things to wake up. Like memories,” Mia explained. “First, it’s an unexplainable draft. This might go on for years and disappear. Other times it could be something more substantial, maybe the lost looking for a way out. Or in Murphy’s case, sheer stubbornness.”

  “You like Murphy, don’t you?”

  “Love him like a mole with hair on it. Can’t get rid of it but really don’t want it around, makes me look funny.”

  “Nah, I seen ya. You gots the hots for...”

  “Whit, you better let that one go,” she warned, her eyes narrowing.

  “K, don’t get riled.” Whit reached into his pocket and drew out a set of keys. He shifted them around the fob until he found the one marked “front door”. “Here we go.” He walked up the few stairs with Mia trailing him. By the time he had the lock disengaged, she was pushing the door open.

  Mia stared at the large foyer and twirled as she looked up at the chandelier. Whit turned it on, and dozens of lights danced off the freshly wallpapered walls. Mia twirled again, this time with closed eyes while she listened. She heard nothing but electricity humming through the fixture.

  “You may want to check the wiring on that,” she said, pointing upwards. “It gives off a bit of a hum.”

  Whit pulled out a small notebook and pencil and jotted down a note.

  The foyer was connected to the rooms on either side by wide arched doorways. Mia looked to Whit who had stepped up as a tour guide.

  “On this side, we think we’ll be using this as a dining room as it connects with the kitchen through here.” Mia followed him, staring into corners as they walked through. “Here’s the kitchen, all new fixtures, cabinets, and, this drove Sherry wild, an Irish sink.”

  Mia breathed in. “There is a strong aroma of he
rbs here. I think this was also used as the kitchen before there was a fireplace here.” Mia reached out and touched the back wall. “It’s gone?” She looked at Whit disappointed.

  “I think it didn’t make it through the refit. I understand the stones are stacked in back. Maybe a future barbecue.” Whit sighed.

  “That’d be nice.”

  The tour continued past a butler’s pantry and into the living room which took up the entire north side of the house. The decorators must have decided that dark wood and red paper would give the room a grand look, but Mia thought it resembled a funeral home. She didn’t like funeral homes, and she didn’t like this room either.

  “What... spirits?” he asked.

  “No,” she sighed, “bad taste.”

  Whit was relieved. “I’m sure Sherry is going to change it. She is more a light wood and green sort of person.”

  Mia nodded. “Good to know.”

  They traveled up a wide staircase without incident. The second floor with its three bedrooms and two baths gave off nice vibes, and Mia actually eased back and enjoyed herself. Whit babbled about a future family and put a girl and a boy into each room. The master suite was situated over the living room. Mia didn’t like the feel of this room but couldn’t pinpoint it. She shook it off.

  “Sherry wants a studio in the house so we thought we would convert the attic.”

  Mia’s head snapped up and looked at the ceiling. “Where?”

  “Believe it or not, the staircase is right off here.” Whit opened up what Mia thought was another closet in the suite, and there was a set of steep stairs leading upwards. “Sherry likes the idea of being able to work on her paintings anytime, day or night. She wouldn’t be disturbing any future Whits or Sherrys.”

  “What about a studio over the garage?” Mia suggested as she trudged up each stair as if she were going to her own execution.

  “Nah, she doesn’t like the idea of leaving the house, especially in the winter.”