Crossroads

by Alexie Aaron [Aaron, Alexie]

  Mia took a moment to breathe, watching the comradery that was building. It wasn’t for battle; it was better.

  Dr. Cooper looked at his daughter. “Want to show me where I’m to bunk?”

  “Your choice. Above the garage there is an empty suite. The other one, Enos has taken temporarily. There is a guestroom that is open since the Martins insist on sleeping in their RV. I think Altair is on the top floor of the aerie, but there is a large room next to where Ed and Judy are going to stay until their home is livable.”

  “I think above the garage would be fine. I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “I do,” Mia said. “I want you to wander in at the most inopportune moments. I want to find your head stuck in the refrigerator and your laundry on the floor of the laundry room. You’re my father, and I’ve missed you,” Mia said, her eyes watering and her nose burning.

  Charles took Mia in his arms and hugged her. “I’ve missed you too.”

  ~

  Audrey looked at her laptop screen beyond the earphone-wearing Burt into the living room of the peninsula home. She saw Paula in the kitchen and Noah laying on the couch watching television. She had gotten up very early to make this call.

  “I have a lot of information for you, Burt. I’ve sent a copy of everything for Jake to file. I’m going to go out on a limb and identify the ghost as Macario Franco. He came out of Brazil on a student visa and stayed. He built quite an empire, hidden by his shell company Franco Amusements. He had a fleet of container ships. Supposedly, he specialized in exporting arcade machines to Brazil. The return trip, he imports drugs. The DEA had a good idea how the drugs were entering the country, but they never were able to pin it on Macario. No one informed on him. He had people he paid to take the rap for him. He took care of their families while they did Macario’s jail time.

  “Derek Glynn, aka Demetrio Melo, was introduced to Macario by Macario’s cousin Gaspar. Gaspar vouched for the accountant, and soon, Demetrio was pulled deep into the money laundering area of Franco Amusements. The information on how the DEA convinced Demetrio to turn on Macario is murky at best. But he did. Macario swore vengeance at the conclusion of this trial, which pretty much made any kind of an appeal useless.”

  “What were his words?” Burt asked.

  “I will kill you and everyone you ever loved.”

  “Where was he sent?”

  “Attica, New York. He died there, and to jump ahead, his body was claimed by Gaspar.”

  “Where is he buried?”

  “Here’s the thing,” Audrey said. “No one knows. There were suspicions that it was transported to the family crypt in Maringá, but if this is the ghost of Macario, then it is unlikely. According to my husband, it would take dozens of years for Macario’s spirit to travel to Illinois, and then it would be too depleted to do anything, no matter what the power of Quimbanda gives him.”

  “Quimbanda?”

  “Jake showed me the drawings Mia did of the tattoos on Macario’s face. It took a trip to the dark vault, but Orion is certain that these are the symbols of resurrection of the spirit, power over death, and a voluntary bond with the devil.”

  “Okay, I see how you got to Quimbanda. Did the vault have any information on how to deal with an evil spirit of Quimbanda?”

  “The attachment must be destroyed, but that’s no guarantee. Years down the line, the spirit may yet find its way to the family. Orion says the remains need to be cremated along with the object it is attached to.”

  “Does the spirit return to his remains for power?” Burt asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we could try to follow it.”

  “We?” Audrey questioned.

  “Okay, Stephen and Mia in an OOBed form.”

  “Can she still OOB?”

  “She could walk into Noah’s brain.”

  “Be careful of assuming too much,” Audrey cautioned. “Also weigh the pros and cons of putting Mia on the spot. Talk to her away from the others.”

  “Mia has never been pushed into anything,” Burt scoffed.

  “Mike has a way of needling her.”

  “I’m not sure Mike has any power over Mia. I’m not sure anyone can sway Mia but Ted, maybe Stephen.”

  “Good for her. I’m going to see if I can get some more sleep. Good luck.”

  “Thank you, Audrey,” Burt said and clicked the line closed.

  Paula looked over at Burt. “Good news?” she asked.

  “I fear we have some hurdles yet. Tomorrow, after we drop Noah off at school, we need to go through the things you have moved with you from New York.”

  “Okay. There’s not that much. Derek has a few things. I’ve not opened those boxes since we arrived here.”

  “Good, it should make things easier. Paula, I’m not going to lie to you, but this isn’t as simple as I originally thought.”

  “I feared as much. Whatever you can do for us is appreciated,” Paula said. She sat down next to Noah and pulled the young boy into her lap.

  Burt could see the love there. And where there is love, there is hope.

  ~

  Mia made sure to introduce Nanny Berta to her father and the Coopersons. She felt a little tension between Judy and Nanny, but other than her father asking if Mia was behaving herself, he seemed fine with them having a nanny to help Mia out.

  After a wonderful shrimp paella, Mia sat with Judy and Nanny and nursed her twins while Brian, Adam, and Varden played under the supervision of Lazar. The Reg Martins had borrowed Cid’s truck and headed into town. They seemed fine with their independent time. Charles walked over to Ed’s house with Cid, Ted, and Murphy.

  “Your new home is very grand, Mia,” Judy complimented.

  “Thank you. It’s a lot to handle, even with all the help I have,” Mia said.

  “I’m looking forward to our little house. I’ve never had a home of my own, and I’ve lived half a millennium.”

  “I didn’t realize that,” Nanny Berta said. “You and I have something in common, and I’ve lived 800 years.”

  “Wow,” Mia said. “I never would have guessed 800 years.”

  Nanny Blushed.

  “Please play when I was a girl,” Mia said.

  “I’m not sure I know how to play that?” Nanny said.

  “I’ll start. When I was a girl, I picked strawberries in a field. I didn’t know they were sold in stores until I was ten.”

  “When I was a girl, there were no domestic strawberries. We picked berries very similar to gooseberries in the woods,” Nanny Berta said.

  “I think the first domesticated strawberries were introduced in France in the 18th century,” Judy said. “We weren’t allowed any in the aerie.”

  “When did you eat your first strawberry?” Nanny asked Judy.

  “Mia made a strawberry shortcake. I was hiding in her head at the time. I evolved into Gray Lady spirit form in my four-hundredth year. I ceased to have the pleasures and the difficulties of the flesh.”

  “I had no idea, dear,” Nanny Berta said.

  “I had no idea you could exist without a body and still be alive until I met Komal,” Mia said.

  “You need to be tethered to a place. He to the island, me to the aerie in Italy.”

  “Still you had a respected vocation,” Nanny Berta said. “When I was a girl, the only respected vocations for a birdwoman was being a Gray Lady, warrior, or mother. I was none of those things.”

  “When I was a girl, there were a few more choices,” Judy said.

  “When I was a girl, I think I had too many choices and frequently chose wrong,” Mia admitted.

  “You didn’t have anyone to talk to, Mia,” Judy comforted.

  “Judy’s right. I did have a mother and aunts to speak to,” Nanny said.

  “Nanny raised Nicholai,” Mia told Judy.

  “You did a splendid job.”

  “Victor and his brother Varden too,” Mia continued
.

  “I’m so envious,” Judy said. “All that knowledge you have.”

  “You’re a healer.”

  “But you raised children,” Judy said.

  “They weren’t my children.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Judy insisted. “Just because we are given reproductive organs, we don’t have to have children. And you were able to transfer your love to the children of others. You should be given a medal.”

  Mia smiled. This is what Nanny Berta needed.

  “I told her she should write a book on birdman culture,” Mia said.

  “I’d buy it,” Judy said. “Mia has come to me with question after question that I couldn’t answer because I was cloistered for nearly all of my 500 years.”

  “They have histories of battles and histories of souls who died in battle,” Mia said. “But no advice on how to get my son to keep from flushing his hand down toilets.”

  “Is Brian still doing that?” Judy asked.

  “Beware of chemical toilets. Brian spent his time in Florida with a blue hand.”

  Judy and Nanny burst into giggles.

  There was a knock on the door. “Are you ladies decent?” Dieter asked timidly.

  “Yes,” Mia said, pulling a shawl over herself.

  Dieter walked in. He was dressed in blue jeans and a polo shirt. “Do you think this would be alright for my first day of work?”

  “You look nice,” Mia said.

  “Mr. Cabello says not to wear anything that can’t survive a little paint or paste. He’s going to give me an apron.”

  “Those shoes look a bit fancy for a paint shop,” Nanny pointed out.

  “Wear your new trainers,” Mia said.

  “But they are for school in the fall.”

  “By that time, you’ll have grown out of them,” Mia said.

  “Okay.” Dieter looked around and smiled. “You three remind me of one of the villages I grew up in. The women there would sit around the village well and talk about their husbands and children. There was always a very wise woman who would give advice.”

  “Why are you going to work?” Judy asked.

  “I want to save for college and have spending money.”

  “Your parents will pay for college,” Judy assured him.

  “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “You’re my son; you will never be a burden. I respect your wanting to pay your way. It will help us out when the time comes. Just don’t forget to have fun too this summer. Too soon other responsibilities come.”

  “Learning a trade that has nothing to do with grammar or knowing American history will be a vacation.”

  “Dieter has been playing catch-up since he chose us to be his parents,” Mia told Nanny Berta.

  “We had to run for our lives. I couldn’t take schoolbooks with me.”

  “Dieter is also an attrpeur-âme,” Mia said proudly.

  “A catcher of souls?” Nanny clapped her hands together in surprise. “I am honored to be living with such a young man.”

  Dieter smiled shyly. “I didn’t think you knew.”

  “I did suspect something was up when I saw you move twenty empty mayonnaise jars into your room. I thought maybe I’d walk into your room and find them filled with frogs or lizards or snakes.”

  Judy and Mia raised their feet at the same time.

  Nanny laughed.

  ~

  Tom frowned as he read the report on the head that rolled out of the Glynn refrigerator. It came from one of the crypts that hadn’t been visited for quite some time, according to Andy. Murphy told Tom it took a lot of energy for a spirit to open a refrigerator, let alone a coffin. There had to be a human or two involved. Tom walked into his parents’ house and found Whitney sitting at the kitchen table eating a helping of his mother’s casserole.

  Whit got up and pumped Tom’s hand. “Sheriff.”

  “Agent.”

  “Special Agent in Charge of Paranormal Investigation,” Whit said smugly.

  “SACPI? That’s sound like an STD,” Tom dismissed.

  “You’re looking good,” Whit said.

  “Life has been treating me well,” Tom said. “You look like crap.”

  “Late nights, too much booze, and too many women,” Whit admitted. “How’s our girl?”

  “She’s not our girl. You’ll keep your Hollywood nose if you remember that,” Tom advised. “She’s very different. Confident, strong, and beautiful. Gone is the scruffy Cooper. Mia Martin is a picture that nerds pay twenty bucks to have a poster of.”

  “I heard there was a painting that sold to a private owner for thousands.”

  “Guess who painted that?” Tom challenged.

  “Who?”

  “Remember that little Hispanic kid that beat up Mia’s bullies?”

  “Cabello… That Cabello?”

  “Acalan Cabello.”

  “Mia let Acalan Cabello paint her nude? Amazing,” Whit said.

  “Excuse me? I didn’t know it was a nude,” Tom admitted.

  Whit smiled a shit-eating grin. “I’ve seen the painting.”

  “I’m speechless,” Tom said but quickly turned it around. “You know he’s gay.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know if you knew.”

  “Why are we talking about Mia again?” Tom asked.

  “Because I was looking for intel to hold over her head,” Whit said.

  “I’ve been played again,” Tom groaned.

  “Yup. Just like in high school.”

  “Boss, we have movement at the Glynn house,” a voice rose from Whit’s pocket.

  “Where?”

  “The garage. There is someone looking out the window.”

  “I’ll head in from the back. You get ready when I flush him out,” Whit said, drawing his firearm.

  Tom followed Whit out and around the fence into the backyard of the home. The door to the garage was ajar. Whit pushed it open and was smacked backwards by the flat side of a spectral axe. Whit fell against Tom, knocking them both on the ground.

  Murphy materialized in the doorway and shook his head and pointed down.

  Whit got up. “What the hell, Murphy! I think you broke a rib.”

  Tom reached in and turned on the garage overhead light. Just beyond the threshold was a step down. On the garage floor, pointing up, were hundreds of rusty nails glued nailhead down with something white dusted on top.

  Tom pulled out his gloves and an evidence bag while Whit scanned the rest of the garage. Had they opened the garage door, there were three sawed-off shotguns triggered to go off, aimed at where the car would have driven in.

  “I thought your guy saw a face in the window?” Tom asked, standing up.

  “Helium balloon with a Halloween mask on,” Whit pointed out. He raised his radio. “Come on in, team. Enter from the backyard.” He turned back to Tom.” How could I have been so wrong?”

  “No, you were right,” Murphy said, tapping a few remaining nails with his axe-head. “No ghost could handle rusted iron.”

  “There are humans involved, but how are they getting in and out of this house unnoticed?” Tom asked.

  “What’s behind here?” Whit inquired.

  “An empty lot. There used to be an old community center. I remember tennis courts. It was all crap by the time we were old enough to use it. That’s it,” Tom realized. “Whit, get your people together. I’ll call in mine. I think that the human element may be long gone, but it’s better to be careful.”

  “Explain where you’re going with this?” Whit asked.

  “Don’t you remember? There used to be a Cold War shelter underneath the old tennis courts. I don’t remember them ever filling it in.”

  “We need super lights. Someone get the rental place on Main to open up and get some lights over here.”

  “PEEPs have some in the truck,” Murphy said.

  “Shit. Tom, call Ted.”

 
“You call Ted. It’s your operation,” Tom said, handing Whit his phone. “Use my phone. Ted won’t answer it if it’s from you.”

  “I know,” he said, rubbing his sore chest.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Hey, Tom,” Ted answered.

  “Ted, it’s Whit.”

  “I heard you were nosing around our investigation.”

  “I need to use your mega lights as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll be over as soon as I can to open the truck. I want your promise that your people will stay out of our truck or…”

  “Or what?”

  “You can go fuck yourself and wake up old man Begley and get your own lights.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Ted showed up with Cid. Murphy stood guard while the investigators pulled the lights out of the back of the command center. “They have two settings, regular halogen and daylight,” Cid explained to one of the agents.

  They set up the lights to illuminate the back fence. It was solid.

  Murphy dragged his axe along the ground. He let it drop halfway. CRACK!

  “Bring one of those lights here,” Whit ordered. He prodded the ground with a metal bar. “Of all the…” he stopped speaking and pried open a hatch that had sod attached to the top. “Are you guys set up on the back street?”

  “Ready to go.”

  “Wait,” Tom said. “Let Murphy go in first.”

  “Can’t. Rust and iron.”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Ted said, walking over. He set Curly down and tapped his ear. “Jake, ready when you are.”

  Whit’s jaw was set. Tom was amused. He only wished that Mia could see this.

  “Ted, this is Lazar. Jake’s showing me a plan from the 1940s of the utility layout for that end of Big Bear Lake. I suggest highly that you don’t go in until the gas is turned off and the neighborhood is evacuated.”

  “We need to get the gas turned off, and Lazar, who is our munitions expert, suggests we hold up until we can evacuate the neighborhood.”

  “But we may lose…” Whit said.