The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  “It’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not supposed to be fair...”

  “For me it is.”

  “Good for you. How’s it working so far?”

  “Bitch.”

  “Come on Whitney Pee Pants, tell me how you really feel,” she goaded.

  “I did every damn thing right: chose the right career, chose the right wife, checked all the boxes. Next was kids. I wanted kids, Mia.”

  Mia just hugged him closer. “I can’t tell you anything that you’re going to believe right now. So, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to hold you and let you cry. That is, until my ass freezes. Gee, you would think these granny pants would be warmer.”

  Whit twisted sideways and took a look at his blue-tinged friend. “Your lips are purple.” He handed over her jeans.

  “Thank you. Fuck, what happened? The rivets are all dented,” Mia asked, not expecting an answer. She pulled on her pants and put a hand out to Whit who took it and stood up.

  “Thanks for the support, Mia.” He tried to smile, but it died before it actually bloomed.

  Still Mia appreciated the effort and went inside a lot warmer than she had been when she stepped out.

  ~

  Tom was waiting for them at the crossroads. Whit was driving Mia’s truck, and even if Tom wanted to address the situation, he knew better. Mia got out and walked over to Tom. “I understand you’ve already been through the houses?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have people walking in from Perry Dam, but so far nada.”

  “Do you mind if I go into the hollow to get a feel of the place?” Mia asked.

  “No, but not alone. Either wait for a deputy or take Whit.”

  “Okay, I guess it’s Whit.”

  Tom turned away from the truck and asked quietly, “How’s he doing?”

  “Been better, Tom, been better,” Mia said. “I’ll keep an eye on him, but I’m not very good at this kind of thing.”

  “Me either.” Tom turned back to Whit and called, “Take Mia into the hollow, but be careful. Call in every fifteen.”

  Whit nodded and waited for Mia to get in and rolled up his window. “What’s with all the secret talk?”

  “Just flirting. Is he married?” Mia deflected, noticing the way Whit set his shoulders.

  “No, just very young and stupid,” Whit said through his teeth.

  “Ah, you mean stupid enough to get involved with me,” Mia acknowledged before she pointed out, “Younger than you, huh?”

  “And you grandma, stealing babes from...”

  “He is a babe. And stamina,” she whistled.

  Whit caught on that she was teasing him so he let it go.

  “Slow down,” Mia instructed as she opened the windows. “There’s a bad smell in the air.”

  Whit decreased his speed to a crawl, and they both opened the truck’s windows. “I see what you mean. Burnt chicken but worse.”

  “Stop!” Mia shouted as she saw Daisy enter the road up ahead near the graveyard. Mia got out and walked up to the apparition.

  Whit just saw her walk up to the middle of the road, stop and start talking.

  “We’re looking for a woman.”

  Daisy frowned.

  “Yes, a bad woman.”

  Her hand made a slight effort to point to the spot where the Cold Creek Hollow Church once stood.

  “Thank you, Daisy.”

  She bent her knees in a slight curtsey.

  Mia walked back to the truck. “I think Rose is in the old church foundations.”

  Whit picked up his cell and called Tom. “Tom, we’re smelling something bad in the foundations of the old church. I think you should head over here. No, I won’t. Bye.” He looked over at Mia. “Says to stay put. We wait on him.” Whit got out and motioned towards the graveyard. “That Murphy you were talking to?”

  “No, it was Daisy. She’s a friend of yours.”

  “Daisy, Daisy... oh, the little grave, Daisy.”

  “That’s the one. Why don’t you nod in her direction. She’s the one who... you know.”

  “Tried to save Sherry.” Whit stepped forward, and Mia turned him in the right direction. “Thank you, Daisy.”

  “She’s waving a hanky with one hand and has her hand over her heart.”

  Whit nodded his head.

  “Okay, she’s gone now. Good thing, here comes the cavalry.”

  Tom and two other cars pulled up beside Mia’s truck. Whit approached the men. “There’s a strong scent of barbeque coming from the old church foundations. I understand they’re very dangerous, weren’t properly filled in, so be careful.”

  Mia hung back and let the men pass. She grabbed Whit’s sleeve as he went by. “I can’t go in there,” she whispered.

  “I know. Stay with Daisy,” he said before catching up with the other deputies.

  The church was set back from the road fifty feet, and there were over a hundred years of raspberry brambles and whatnot hampering the team’s movement. Mia jumped up in the bed of the truck for a better view.

  Tom decided it would be better to follow the yew hedge than to risk the brambles. Whit brought up the back of the group.

  “Hold up,” Tom said, surveying the scene in front of him. The front of what had been the church was softened by years of moss and ivy growth. The back wall of the apse was partially standing with only the lead sections left of a mighty stained glass window. The southern sun had filtered through the window, focusing on a platform seemingly suspended in the middle of the surrounding abyss. In the center of the platform was the smoldering ruin of what was once a human being. The only thing not fused into the charcoal mass was a Kate Spade handbag.

  “I don’t recognize the lady, but the purse is familiar,” David Hurley said behind him. “Rose Marie McCallum.”

  Whit moved to the side of the three. “Oh my god. What do you think? Spontaneous combustion?”

  “My money is on lightning,” Bobby Simpson said.

  “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor,” Tom quoted. “She really ought to have listened to that one. Whit, I’m going to call the coroner. If I were you, I would beat feet out of here and take Mia with you,” he advised. “Me and the boys will handle things here.”

  “Fine,” Whit said before digging in his pocket. “Put this twenty on lightning, Bobby,” he said, handing him the money and retracing his steps.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “So nothing supernatural happened to Rose?” Mia asked with relief in her voice.

  “Unless getting struck by lightning is an everyday occurrence.”

  “Well, it’s natural, mother nature natural. At least they can’t pin this one on you.”

  “This one? That sounds like you think I’ve murdered other people.” Whit turned in the seat and stared at her. “I’ll have you know that I’ve not ‘murdered’ anyone in the last, oh, six or seven months.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I thought you may be on a crime spree,” Mia said wryly.

  Whit’s face fell. Mia regretted her teasing. This man had after all just lost his wife. Even if he seemed strong on the outside, he was torturing himself inside.

  “I’m sorry, Whit.” She placed her hand on his arm.

  “We’re all sorry. Poor Sherry,” he sighed as he pulled into her driveway.

  The gate opened, and Whit pulled the truck around his sedan and parked it in the garage.

  Mia’s phone rang, and she glanced at the ID. “Shit, not that asshole.” She pressed ignore and the ring silenced.

  “Your dinner date?”

  “No, his pain in the butt partner. They want to go back into the hollow and think I can pull strings to get them in.”

  “So who was your dinner date?”

  “Burt.”

  “Go figure. He’s not the one I thought you’d go for.”

  “Why, what’s the matter with him?” Mia growled.

  “Back down. Seems I hit a nerve.” Whit backed up with his hands up
. “All I was saying was that I was surprised. I don’t know either man, so excuse me, Mia.”

  Mia shook herself all over, trying to loosen up the tension of the morning. “Whit, what I’d like most to do right now is to forget about dinner dates, fried receptionist and ghosts. I have a ton of laundry to do and a refrigerator to clean out, so...”

  “Don’t let the gate hit me in the ass on my way out,” he finished.

  “I wouldn’t have put it so crudely.”

  “Oh, yes you would. Mia, can I count on you not doing something foolish?”

  “Whit, sorry, but you can count on me doing foolish things. What you can also count on is, I do them for the best reasons.”

  “I don’t know if that makes me feel any better.”

  Whit walked to the car, and Mia opened the gate and closed it after him. She let her mind churn while she went about deflating all the water toys and putting the garage to rights.

  When she finished, she dialed Burt and got his voicemail. “Burt, they found Rose dead out at the hollow. She may have been struck by lightning, too early to tell. Can you get Mike to stop harassing me with phone calls? I know he thinks I can get you guys back in, but I can’t. And I think it is a seriously bad idea. Stay away from the hollow.”

  Mia ended the call and headed into her house where she got out the salt and sealed herself in.

  ~

  Burt closed his phone after listening a second time to Mia’s message. What the hell was Mike doing talking to Mia? He really couldn’t approach him and say “Why the fuck are you talking to my girlfriend?” Was she even his girlfriend? Did a day together make them a couple? He scratched his head. All he knew was that she sounded upset so he called her back.

  She answered after a few rings. “Hello, Burt.” Her voice sounded tired.

  “You okay?”

  “Just a little worn out. I’ve just excavated the refrigerator, and it doesn’t look good.”

  “I got your message. I’m kind of out of the loop right now. That’s what I get for taking a nap.”

  “I could use one about now, but I have laundry to do.”

  “Ah, put it off until another day.”

  “Can’t. Ran out of my last pair of panties this morning.”

  “Sorry about Mike. He’s just jonesing to get back to April’s and finish so we can move on to the next great haunt.”

  “I hear ya. I just wish that you guys never came here.”

  “Beg your pardon?” Burt asked, irritation filling his voice.

  Every part of her good sense said to back off, but Mia wasn’t listening to her good sense at that moment. “You guys roll in, stir up the place and leave us locals to clean up your mess after you leave...”

  “That’s not fair. April called us.” Burt pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. He put it back and said, “We are trying to help a woman in...”

  “Bullshit, you’re looking for ratings. God damn it! Everything was fine before PEEPs came.”

  “So you’re saying we’re responsible for Sherry Martin hanging herself?” he asked incredulously.

  “No, but...”

  “Or did we kill Rose with lightning?”

  “That’s not what...”

  “What are you saying?”

  “My life was normal,” she started.

  “Bullshit. You’re the town loon who isolates herself from the world with her salt and bricks. You have a problem here that we can help you with.”

  “I don’t want your help. The town loon does not want your help. Stay away from the hollow. You may not be responsible for Sherry or Rose, but you’re stirring something up. Someone’s going to get hurt. Make sure it’s not you.” Mia closed the phone.

  Burt stared off into space, listening to the dead air. What just happened?

  ~

  Mia kept staring at her phone, trying to figure out what had just happened. “If he... did I... Crap.” She tucked the phone into the cute, little juicy pocket and continued to load her clothes into the washer.

  “Come on, Mia. It was just great sex for him,” she said aloud. “But he was so...” She was now arguing with herself. “Great in the sack, good listener, and you have things in common. The freaky things in common. Did you think that he would want freaky all the time? Isn’t this his night job? Do you think he wants to come home and salt his way in and out of your home?” Mia slammed the lid down and started the machine. “What am I doing? I don’t need anyone. Fuck this weak female shit.” Mia grabbed the matching pink jacket and stormed out of the house, heading for the garage.

  There was a woman standing at her gate when Mia rounded the corner. The woman had the sun to her back so Mia had to walk up close before she could identify her.

  “Sherry?”

  Sherry looked at her and smiled a weak little smile.

  “What are you doing here? Oh my god, I’m going to regret this, but come in.” Mia walked over to the gate and removed the chalk line. Sherry moved through the gate and over to Mia. She put her hands on either side of Mia’s face.

  Moving pictures with feelings attached invaded Mia’s vision. She was Sherry visiting the house for the first time. The first exquisite moment of setting her foot across the threshold, the leather sliding ever so slightly as the worn surface of the sandal’s bottom contacted the highly polished wood.

  Rose caught her elbow and cautioned her. “The floors have been refinished and tend to be a bit slick.”

  “Would you mind if I took off my shoes?” Sherry asked.

  “Sure, go ahead, that way you can feel the lushness of the upstairs carpet.”

  Sherry took them off and set them carefully beside the front door. They looked at home there. “Thank you.”

  Rose proceeded to give her a tour, starting with the kitchen. Sherry’s eyes skimmed over the granite countertops and zoned in on the deep Irish sink. She saw her brushes in pots, soaking, waiting to be cleaned. She blinked and they were gone, and Rose’s voice droned on describing pantry space.

  As she entered the overdone living and dining spaces, Sherry re-toned the garish reds and browns in her mind with her palette of pale greens and other bleached hues.

  Sherry followed Rose upstairs, her fingers brushing the rail in a lover’s caress. She felt the wood warm as she touched it. The tour continued, and she began to assign things and people to the rooms as they passed. The small rooms were boxes to store the children Whit wanted. The larger one - a nanny to mind the life models, subjects of a childhood series - maybe acrylics?

  The master suite’s carpet, as promised, was lush and deep. It caressed her toes as she left her footprints on the carefully vacuumed rug.

  “The master bath is here.” Rose opened the doorway, and Sherry glanced in at the shiny fixtures. “Walk-in closets, his and hers...” Sherry began to hear people in the house and wondered if it was being shown to someone else.

  “Here’s something you as an artist may be able to make use of,” Rose said as she opened a door revealing a slim staircase. She stood back and said, “After you. Go on, I want you to experience the space alone.”

  Sherry climbed the stairs, and as her hand touched the knob of the door, she heard more voices. It sounded like a party was going on. She opened the door to a dark void. She fumbled beside her and found a light control. Sherry flipped the switch, and as the darkness left, a fresh canvas emerged. The large attic space surprised her with the austerity of its lines. The high-beamed ceiling, lit by a just few swinging light bulbs, met the horizontal slats of the walls. Delicate pink insulation housed in brown paper puffed out between a few open spaces. As she took in the space, she envisioned her easels with finished works of art displayed around the room. People holding tall champagne flutes, dressed in vintage clothing entered the space, admiring her work. She caught snatches of conversations, each admiring and applauding the work before them.

  She caught sight of a crate in the corner. She walked over to it and flattened the curling shipping label and rea
d, “11 West 53 Street, New York...” Wait, she knew that address. She flattened the label, “The Museum of Modern Art.” Her breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes.

  When she opened them, she stood facing an empty room, but her dreams were filled and her ambition fueled.

  Sherry took her hands away. Mia’s eyes opened. “I understand. You were seduced. Honey, Whit is so sad. He misses you. Have you seen him?”

  The sad woman nodded. Put her hands together and placed them under her head.

  “You watched him sleep?”

  She nodded and pointed to Mia.

  “Yes, I watched him sleep too, but just sleep. Hands off, I understand.”

  Sherry shook her head. She moved closer to Mia and looked at her real hard. With one hand she pointed upward and the other she tugged at her foot.

  “You’re stuck between two worlds. You haven’t been buried yet. Maybe that will release that bond?” Mia suggested.

  Sherry’s head shook violently. She threw her hands at Mia and dug in her nails to keep them there.

  Mia was back at the hollow in the attic above the master suite on the saw horse getting ready to step off. But Mia was stronger and twisted away, sending the apparition away from her. “I get it. I have to get rid of the monster that killed you. No more, Sherry, no more. Go.” Mia raised her hand and pointed out, and the woman went.

  Mia closed the gate and replaced the chalk line. She spent the rest of the afternoon checking all of her defenses before she finished her laundry and lay down on the bed and wept.

  ~

  “Hey Mia, this is Beth. I thought I’d give you a heads-up. We’ve got permission to go back to April’s. I think we’re going to open the root cellar. Come by if you’re interested. You wouldn’t know why Burt’s in such a bad mood, would you? Anyway, miss you.” Mia shut the phone and turned over. She must have fallen asleep because the light was almost gone. A migraine was starting, and she went in search of a remedy.