Damned and Cursed (Book 8): Witch Trial

by Bullion, Glenn

  "I appreciate that. Really. I'm fine."

  "Okay, you're fine. Whatever. But you've had enough supernatural shit in your life. There's no reason to jump right from breaking up with your witch boyfriend into a haunted house."

  She laughed. The supernatural in her life included her brother.

  "Alex, would you calm down? I'm just doing a walk-through. Nothing crazy. An interview, some pictures, and I'm heading home."

  "You should have talked to me about this first."

  Leese had trouble understanding how what she thought was a favor was being turned against her.

  "Please. We know Cindy's the boss. Alex, you could just say thank you. And maybe show a little faith in me or something."

  "I know you can handle a haunted house, Alicia." He was the one person that didn't use her nickname. "But you don't think I see what's going on?"

  "Oh, God," she said, rolling her eyes. The conversation was going downhill fast. "Now, what? What do you see, oh demon master?"

  "You flinch whenever someone gets too close. You're always looking around now, always on edge. The other night, when we stopped by your apartment, you checked to make sure the door was locked four times. You're not really fine."

  A tear trickled down her cheek. He was right. She hadn't been the same since the kidnapping, and wasn't sure if she'd ever be the same again.

  "I…have nightmares about it," she admitted. She hadn't told anyone until then. "And I keep thinking that someone is watching me."

  "I'll call Sheila," Alex said. "We'll reschedule for another night."

  Leese laughed. He was being ridiculous.

  "Alex, stop. Okay, so, what happened has me messed up a little. Some people might think that's normal. But I'm not going to get better hiding in my bedroom. Sheila said she gets woken up by strange noises several times a week. And Timmy even more. They need help, right?"

  He paused, and Leese knew he was relenting.

  "Yeah. They need help."

  "Then let me go and help. We can think of it as therapy. Besides, I'm doing it whether you like it or not. I'd just rather have you be cool with it."

  Alex was quiet. To prove her point, Leese checked her appearance in the mirror one last time and pulled out of the gas station. She set the phone on the passenger's seat, waiting for her brother to speak.

  "I'm cool," he finally said.

  "Don't get crazy," she said, smiling. "You've never been cool."

  "Yeah, yeah. Look, this is a one-time thing. Cindy's talking about hiring some people."

  Leese raised her eyebrows. She knew Demons LLC had Alex thinking about a career change, but didn't know they planned on expanding.

  "Wow. That busy?"

  "You wouldn't believe it. Okay, I have to go."

  "Is everything okay?"

  He sighed deeply.

  "We'll see. I'm at a psychiatric hospital. One of the patients says they're possessed, and stabbed two doctors."

  "Holy shit."

  "There's probably nothing holy about it."

  Leese's tone changed. Alex could take care of himself, knew things about the supernatural no one else did. But that would never stop her concern.

  "You be careful."

  "You, too. Call me if you need anything."

  Leese hung up and turned onto Sheila Boyd's street. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized her long drive was ending. She would make Alex and Cindy proud.

  Sheila's house looked the same as the rest on the block. A cute Cape Cod with a neatly trimmed lawn, a white fence, a mailbox in the shape of a shoe at the end of the sidewalk. Leese had seen several haunted houses, and it always amazed her how they didn't look haunted. There were no broken windows, no creepy curtains billowing in the wind, no sense of foreboding. One front yard away an elderly man watered his grass. Across the street, a young woman in shorts and a sports bra stretched out, preparing for a run. It was typical suburbia. She found it hard to believe the house next to her had a ghost or two roaming around.

  But Leese knew it was all too possible.

  She took a deep breath and gathered her belongings. Her purse and phone, along with a notepad and pen. She checked her phone to make sure it had plenty of free space for pictures and video. Taking one last drink of water, she left the car and headed toward Sheila's front door.

  Leese felt eyes on her.

  She tried to shake the feeling of paranoia. She told herself she wasn't being followed, wasn't being chased.

  Still, the paranoia didn't go away.

  Glancing upwards, she saw perhaps the source of her anxiety. A young boy watched her from a bedroom window. She smiled and waved, not only for politeness, but to test his reaction. The boy let out a small smile and waved in return. He disappeared from the window, the curtain moving back into place. She had a good feeling he wasn't a ghost.

  Adjusting her dress, she gave the door a gentle rap.

  It was when Sheila Boyd answered the door did Leese finally understand what she'd gotten herself into. Her breath hitched in her throat. Leese's thoughts had settled on how the experience was going to help her. She'd keep busy, get her mind off the ex-boyfriend she missed so much. She'd get out of the house, away from the apartment and the area that gave her repeated nightmares of being kidnapped. She'd help Alex and Cindy, the two people closest to her.

  Somewhere in all those thoughts, she'd forgotten that in some way, she would be changing a family's life.

  Seeing Sheila reminded her instantly.

  The single mother looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot, with large, dark circles under them. Sheila had the look of someone who hadn't slept in days. She tried to smile, but her lip only managed a slight twitch. Her application listed her as a secretary, and she still wore her office clothes. A gray skirt with a white blouse, professionally dressed. Leese suddenly felt under-dressed, despite her own efforts, and she wasn't even being haunted.

  Her lips were moving. It took a moment for Leese to realize Sheila was talking.

  "What?" Leese said, immediately feeling awkward and foolish. "Uh, excuse me?"

  "Are you Alicia?" Sheila repeated.

  "Uh, yes. Yes, I am." She straightened her posture and tried to lift her chin high. Sheila was on a step, and was already slightly taller. Leese had to look up to meet her gaze. She tried to exude just a sliver of confidence, and held out her hand. "Alicia Teague. But, please, call me Leese."

  Sheila gingerly shook her hand. She stepped aside for Leese to enter.

  "Cindy told me she wouldn't be able to make it."

  "Yeah," Leese said, taking in the living room. "But don't worry, I won't take up much of your time at all."

  "It's okay. We're just getting ready to eat dinner. Would you like a hot dog?"

  Leese's stomach grumbled so loudly she was afraid Sheila would hear. Her cheeks turned a shade of red, but if Sheila heard her stomach's answer to an invitation for dinner, she didn't let on. As hungry as she was, she didn't think it would be very professional to chow down during the walk-through.

  "No, thank you."

  She admired the house as Sheila led her to the dining room. Nothing stood out as unordinary. The living room was simple, clean. A couch and love-seat, coffee table, a PlayStation under the flat-screen TV. There were pictures of Sheila and her son Timmy, the same boy Leese had seen from outside. Some pictures included an unknown man. He played catch with Timmy, hugged Sheila around the waist. Leese guessed it was Timmy's father. Were they divorced? Was Sheila a widow? Leese didn't know.

  Sheila stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and peered upstairs.

  "Timmy!" she called. "Dinner's ready!"

  Leese smiled as she heard excited footsteps above them. She remembered that exact feeling when she was younger. Mom was seldom home, so Alex did most of the cooking, with an occasional assist from Cindy. He'd make the announcement that dinner was done, and she'd fall over herself trying to get downstairs.

  It was a shame he didn't cook very well.

&nbs
p; She missed Kevin's cooking.

  Leese was organizing her notes and preparing her phone when Timmy bounced into the dining room. He couldn't have been more than eight years old. A bundle of energy, he sprinted to grab a plate from the counter.

  "Hey!" Sheila said. "No running in the house."

  "Sorry, Mom."

  Leese smiled at the scene. It was good to see that despite having their lives turned upside-down, there could still be normalcy.

  "This is Leese. She's going to help us with our…problem."

  Timmy turned as he loaded fries onto his plate.

  "You're going to make the voices stop?"

  She stiffened. She'd read through the notes several times, and didn't see mention of any voices.

  "I'm going to try." She remembered one of the first important rules Cindy told her. Never make any promises.

  The family ate while Leese jotted a few notes. The location, time, and date. It felt strange to work with a tray of hot dogs and fries between them. She tried to put the food out of her mind. She wasn't sure if the Boyds eating was relaxing or made her tenser.

  "I have to ask, how does all this work?" Sheila asked. "I mean…what exactly are we doing? Cindy and I spoke, but I admit, I didn't really catch everything. Like, are you psychic?"

  Leese laughed.

  "Not at all. I'm here just to learn more about you, the house, what you're experiencing. If we think we've got a real case, my brother will be the one to go from there."

  She regretted her choice of words immediately. They didn't escape Sheila's ears. Her hand froze as she lifted a drink to her lips.

  "Real case?"

  Leese shifted in her seat. She'd been in the Boyd home for only several minutes, and was already putting her foot in her mouth.

  "Sometimes, what people think are ghosts, are perfectly explainable. Noisy vents, leaky pipes, a squirrel in the attic."

  "We're not lying."

  Sheila was agitated. Leese wasn't sure what to say to ease the tension.

  "I don't think you are. We just have to check first. That's all. We always look for a more worldly explanation before we dive over to the other side."

  Leese went quiet, holding her tongue. She thought she recovered nicely, trying to think back to when Cindy conducted an interview. It wasn't always easy to find the right balance of compassion with harsh truth.

  "I'm sorry," Sheila said. "I'm just a little on edge. We both are. Our Pastor stopped by a week ago. He walked through the house. Sat at this table, like you're doing right now. Then he told me that maybe all this was happening because we hadn't put enough faith in the Lord. That we weren't going to church enough."

  "Oh, wow," Leese said, shaking her head. "I'm not sure what to say to that."

  "There was nothing to say, except 'Thank you for your time'. Then that night all the faucets in the house turned on by themselves."

  Leese took notes. Alex would want to know everything.

  "Speaking of walking through the house," Leese said, gesturing around them. "Is it okay if I do that? Then we'll take some statements. I'll take some photos, that kind of thing."

  Timmy jumped from the table, shoving the last of a hot dog in his mouth. He was barely understandable as he spoke.

  "Mom! Can I show Leese around?"

  Sheila eyed Leese and gave a slight shrug.

  "Are you alright with that?" she asked. "I'm not really sure what your routine is."

  Leese refrained from saying she had no routine. If she somehow came across as a seasoned professional, she wouldn't shatter the illusion.

  She let out a smile.

  "It's fine. I could use a guide." She nodded at Timmy. "Are you ready?"

  "Yeah! I'll show you the upstairs first."

  He gripped her hand and yanked her away. Leese nearly lost her balance, and Sheila giggled behind them. Leese cast one final glance to Sheila, feeling a stab of sadness at the sight. Despite the laugh, the warm exterior, Leese could also see the desperation. Sheila needed a break, and if a short tour through the house provided one, Leese was happy to help.

  She slowed their pace as they made their way up the stairs.

  "Whoa. Hold on one second," she said. She started the recorder on her phone and held it up. She also stole a peek at her paperwork, at notes she'd taken. Questions to ask, things to look for.

  Timmy led her down a hallway. They passed a bedroom and bathroom, as well as several family pictures on the walls. She was nervous, as the process didn't feel right to her. She doubted Alex and Cindy let children drag them around, with barely a chance to study or take a photo. He turned into a room and let go of her hand.

  "This is my room." He made an exaggerated leap on his bed. His brow furrowed as he stared at her, deep in thought. He was an adorable boy, had many of his mother's features. "I think this is where it all started."

  Leese's eyes lit up. Finally, they were getting somewhere. She aimed her phone at Timmy's room, making sure to record everything. His room was very neat for a young boy. She remembered Alex's room growing up, and it looked nothing like Timmy's. A clean desk in the corner, TV on a small dresser. No posters were on the walls, which she thought was strange. Did children not hang posters anymore?

  "Okay," Leese said, trying to sound official. She narrated the date and time. "I'm in the bedroom of Timmy Boyd."

  Timmy smiled and waved. So much for professionalism. Leese laughed and waved in return.

  "How old are you, Timmy?"

  "Nine. But I'll be ten next month."

  "And…you think your house is haunted?"

  It was an obvious question, but she wanted to capture it on video.

  "Yes."

  "What's the first thing that happened you thought wasn't normal?"

  He thought for a moment.

  "The voices, I guess."

  Leese waved her phone about the room, recording every corner. She sat next to Timmy on the bed and pointed her phone at him. He shied away from the sudden attention, looking at the carpet.

  "Tell me about the voices. When did this happen?"

  "A few months ago. I was sleeping, and some whispering woke me up. I told Mom, but she said I just had a bad dream. But I woke up the next day and the closet door was open. I never keep it open."

  Leese thought of how creepy her own closet was.

  "I don't blame you. What else has happened?"

  He shrugged as he continued to gaze at the carpet.

  "I don't know. So much stuff. One time, I went to the kitchen to get breakfast before school, and the refrigerator was open. There was food everywhere. Mom thought I did it at first, but the same thing happened to her when I wasn't here. Last week—" He made eye contact for a moment. "I got pushed down the stairs."

  Leese's hand trembled as she held the phone.

  "What?"

  "I think that's when Mom finally had enough. I heard her crying downstairs. She didn't know I was listening. And then she called you guys. So, this is like, your job? You get rid of ghosts?"

  Leese didn't answer. Her jaw simply hung open. She thought she'd prepared. She'd seen ghosts before, had been in her share of haunted houses. But the thought of Timmy being hurt was almost too much.

  She wasn't as prepared as she thought.

  Timmy was speaking, but she didn't hear. Leese blinked and moved hair away from her eyes.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "What did you say?"

  "Do you want to see the rest of the house?"

  "Uh, yeah. Sure."

  Timmy pulled her hand once again. His enthusiasm when not on camera was impressive. He tried to take her into another bedroom, but Leese held steady when she noticed a picture on the wall in the hallway. Timmy and Sheila posed in their front yard, standing with the same man from the pictures downstairs. Leese aimed her phone at the framed photo while pulling Timmy back toward her.

  "Timmy," she said. "Who's that?"

  His expression soured when he followed Leese's pointing finger.

  "That's my
Dad."

  Leese thought back to the paperwork. Everything had been filled out by Sheila. She was the only client. There was no mention of a husband or father.

  "Do you mind if I ask where he is?"

  "Timmy."

  They both turned at the new voice. Sheila stood at the foot of the stairs. Leese thought her question was reasonable, but the look on Sheila's face set her on edge.

  "Could you go downstairs and load the dishwasher for me?"

  His enthusiasm didn't wane.

  "Sure." He looked up at Leese. "When I'm done, I'll show you the rest of the house. Then maybe we can play a game or something."

  Leese nodded.

  "That sounds like fun."

  Timmy raced down the stairs. Sheila offered a small smile as she approached. Her gaze drifted to the photo on the wall.

  "Brian's been gone about two years now," she said. "I've kept the pictures up. I just don't want Timmy forgetting his father."

  "I'm so sorry. How did he die?"

  Sheila laughed sarcastically.

  "No, I don't mean dead gone. I mean gone gone. He left us. I picked Timmy up from school one day, came home, and he'd already left. He took his clothes, the car, everything he owned."

  "Are you serious?" Leese shook her head. "Who the hell does something like that? He just left his family?"

  "Well, we were…having some trouble."

  Leese said nothing, waiting for her to finish.

  "He…caught me in bed with another man."

  Leese stiffened. She'd learned much more than she needed. Her trip was slowly turning into more than a walk-through for a potentially haunted house.

  The air conditioner turned on. Leese jumped at the sudden noise. The vent near the door to Timmy's room blasted cold air. It let out a high-pitched squeal, almost like a whistle. She recorded the vent for a moment, then turned to face Sheila.

  "No," Sheila said quickly. "I know what you're thinking. All the shit we've seen and heard, it's not an air vent."

  "What experiences have you—?"

  A loud crash from downstairs interrupted the question. Both women jumped and spun toward the stairs. Sheila was already moving. She'd made it to the stairs before Leese's own legs obeyed her once again.

  "Mom!" Timmy shouted.

  The panic in his voice urged Leese forward. She caught up to Sheila as she raced to the living room. She held her phone up, but had no idea of what she was recording. Timmy stood in the doorway between the dining room and kitchen, staring at something out of her eyesight. She stopped just behind Sheila, looking over her shoulder.