Until It Sleeps
Page 6
I sighed.
* * *
I spent the rest of the day talking through various ideas for how to solve murders with Mads, who was less than helpful, because she seemed to have never seen one of those procedural TV shows. I wrote down a list of all the best ways to prove someone was a murderer, and then I asked her to come up with others. She couldn’t come up with anything.
I came up with eyewitness testimony, evidence on the body, a courtroom confession, suspect being caught in a lie, and evidence on the murder weapon. I knew there had to be other things, but I couldn’t think of any.
And anyway, I wasn’t sure how accurate TV shows really were. Also, I didn’t much like those procedural shows. I felt like they were the same thing over and over, and I got bored.
I figured we were going to have to interview this Tex guy, because how else was I going to catch him in a lie? The other things I couldn’t even get. If there had been evidence on Cheyenne’s body, it must not have been enough. I couldn’t very well get a courtroom confession, which seemed really unlikely anyway. That had to be some sort of fantasy thing that only happened on TV. I couldn’t test the murder weapon. And the eyewitness testimony, well, Wade wasn’t going to let me do that.
I understood that he wanted to protect his son, but I felt like this was the same thing that he’d been annoyed with in Virginia, Kadan’s grandmother. She didn’t want to dredge up the case again because she was afraid that it would upset Kadan. Wade had said that if Kadan was having nightmares, he was already upset. I thought the same logic should apply to an interview.
Whatever. If I couldn’t convince Wade, that was that.
So, I spent that night looking for a phone number for Tex.
I couldn’t find anything listed, but I did find him on social media. Didn’t look like he ever really used his Facebook page, but I sent him a friend request anyway. I didn’t figure he would accept my request. He didn’t know me. We had no friends in common. I didn’t really use my Facebook page either. I’d used it in high school, but I was kind of over that stuff now. I just kept it because of Messenger and in case anyone needed to get in touch with me. Maybe Tex was the same way.
When I woke up in the morning, I checked.
No response to the friend request.
Damn it.
It was Saturday that day, and Wade didn’t have any classes. He wasn’t officially moving into his new apartment with Kadan until the first of February, but he had permission to move some stuff over since the apartment was empty. I was going to help him.
I tried to bring up talking to Kadan again while we were huffing up the steps with boxes of Wade’s shit, but Wade wouldn’t even acknowledge what I was saying other than to say, “We talked about this.”
So, yeah. Fine.
I checked Facebook in the afternoon.
Still no response to the friend request.
Wade and I went out to the bar that evening for a few beers. We didn’t stay out too late, and I was back in the Airstream before midnight. I checked to see if I’d gotten a response to the friend request before bed, and there was nothing.
I was going to have to come up with some other way to get in touch with Tex, but I didn’t know what that would be. Maybe if I thought really hard about it before I went to sleep, I would work out a solution in my dreams or something. I had heard this could happen, but I kind of doubted it.
I tried it anyway.
But I was awakened by my phone ringing in the middle of the night. I’d been having a dream about Mads, who had just had a baby, but was worried because she couldn’t pick it up since she wasn’t corporeal. There was a girl in a coma lying on the floor, and I was yelling at Mads to just possess her, but Mads wouldn’t.
I pretty much only remember my dreams when I get woken up in the middle of them, and they’re always sort of weird like that.
Anyway, I answered the phone, pushing aside the strange dream. “Hello?”
“Oh, my God,” said a voice on the other end.
“Who is this?” I said.
“Oh, my God.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear to check to see if I recognized the number. I’d been too half-asleep to register it before I answered the phone. Oh, it was Wren Bentley. I’d actually saved her number, so I would know when it was her.
“Are you okay?” I asked, sitting straight up.
She started to sob.
“Okay, I’m on my way,” I said. “Sit tight.”
I drove all the way out to the Sanford House, which took me only about forty minutes in the middle of the night. The lack of traffic made a difference. When I got to the house, Wren and Philip were out in the garage, huddled together in their coats. Wren was wrapped in a blanket. She was still crying.
“What happened?” I said.
“You need to fix this,” said Philip.
“Talk to me,” I said. “What happened?”
“Oh, my God,” said Wren, sobbing.
“You fucking bastard,” said Philip in a tight voice. “My wife is pregnant, do you understand me? She cannot handle this kind of stress.”
I soon realized that neither of them were in any shape to tell me anything. So, I left the garage and went into the house.
Every light in the house seemed to be on. The lights all shone out into the darkness, bright and eerie. The front door was a little ajar. I pushed that open and peered inside.
I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The house looked as it had the other day.
I stepped inside, that familiar feeling of dread washing over me.
From the top of the steps, I heard voices.
“Where is it?”
“Stop it,” came another voice, a female voice. “Not in front of Kadan.”
“Where is it?” the other voice was insistent and angry.
I looked around a little more. Were they going to come downstairs? Of course not. I was going to have to go up there, wasn’t I? I made a face. And then I started up the steep steps, clutching the railing. The steps creaked under my feet.
“You can’t hide things from me, bitch!” came the angry voice.
I made it to the top of the steps.
Everything was brightly illuminated up here, but it all looked a little washed out. I had the same impression I’d had before, that everything up here was a little unreal. I didn’t like it.
I looked back down the steps, and I had a certainty that if I just walked back down the steps, everything would be okay. What was I really going to do here, anyway? How was I going to help these people?
“Don’t you touch me again!” called the female voice, which sounded angry again. “You promised me that you wouldn’t do it again. You promised!” Her voice broke with the betrayal she obviously felt.
I started to walk down the hallway for that one lone window. With the lights all on, the window was a dark void, its emptiness calling to me in grating whispers.
If I was hearing two voices that meant that the haunting was strengthening. Not only was it Cheyenne, but also someone else. It sounded to me like Tex. That kind of thing used to weird me out, because I couldn’t understand how there could be a ghost of a living person, but now I knew that ghosts could simply be recordings, so it all made sense to me.
I pushed open the door to the nursery.
And it wasn’t a nursery at all, but a bedroom. Cheyenne was sitting on the bed, her dark hair in her face. She was crying.
Tex was standing over her. “Tell me where it is.”
“Stop,” she said. “Just stop.”
Tex hit her. He slapped her across the cheek.
She cried out, and she backed away from him, crawling backwards over the bed.
Tex went after her. “You’re going to tell me. You can’t hide it from me.”
“Please, please, don’t,” said Cheyenne.
Tex grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back towards him.
“I’m going to call the police,” said another voice.
“Kadan, go to your room,” said Cheyenne. “Go to your room, baby.”
Tex let go of Cheyenne and straightened. He gave Kadan an easy-going smile. “Hey, little man,” he said, as if nothing was wrong. “Your mom and I were just playing a game. That’s all.”
“No, you weren’t,” said Kadan. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t know about grown-up games,” said Tex. He crossed the room, walking right through me, and snatched up the phone from Kadan. “You mommy hid something from me, and she won’t tell me where it is. It’s like grownup hide and seek. But I always find what I’m looking for. I’m the hide-and-seek champion, isn’t that right, Kadan?” He smiled broadly.
His smile gave me shivers.
Tex chuckled. “Go back to bed, little man. Go back to bed.”
CHAPTER NINE
After that, the whole scene started flickering, and soon I was back inside a bright nursery instead. The only creepy thing was that the word, Murder, was still written on the wall in blood. Man, I wished that would fade out.
I went back to the garage to find the Bentleys.
“Did you fix it?” said Philip.
“I’m working on it,” I said.
“What did you do?” said Philip.
“Look, they can’t do anything to you,” I said. “They’re noisy and annoying and scary, but they’re just images, sounds… They’re an imprint of what happened here. As soon as I can get in touch with this Tex person, I’m going to interview him and catch him in a lie, and then he’s going to get locked up.”
“Yeah, that’s going to work,” said Philip. He gave me a disgusted look. “We’re going to a hotel.”
“That’s your choice,” I said.
“You should reimburse us for the hotel,” said Philip.
I raised my eyebrows. “Uh… are you serious?”
“It’s your fault that this is happening,” he said.
“Actually, it’s Tex’s fault,” I said. “He’s the one who committed the murder.”
“I could sue you,” said Philip.
“And tell the court what? That I strengthened the ghosts already in your house?”
Philip clenched his hands into fists. “God damn it.”
He and Wren left.
I left too.
The next morning, I got a call from Philip. “Hey,” he said. “I just want to apologize for the way I’ve been to you.”
“Huh?” I said. I hadn’t been ready for that.
“Yeah, I don’t know what came over me,” said Philip. “The minute we got away from the house, I felt… lighter somehow. Whenever I’ve been there lately, all I feel is this awful rage.”
“Oh, well, that’s great,” I muttered.
“You think it’s the ghosts?” said Philip.
“Yeah, probably,” I said. “You’re being influenced by the spirit of Tex.”
“I didn’t think this Tex guy was dead.”
“He’s not, but he made an imprint on the house,” I said. “It’s latching onto you, because you’re the man in the house. I don’t think you should go back there until I can get the place clear.”
“Okay,” said Tex, sighing. “But, I mean, this hotel is not cheap.”
“No, I know that,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
“Wade, listen,” I said into the phone. “You said it yourself. Kadan is already upset. He’s having nightmares. He’s not going to feel better until we resolve all this. If he can put his stepfather in jail, that’s going to alleviate his fears. You have to let me talk to him.”
“Yeah,” said Wade, “maybe you’re right.”
“Also,” I said, “when I was at the house last night, I saw a phantom of Kadan when he was small. He saw things between his stepfather and his mother. I think he knows everything. So—wait a second. Did you just say it was okay?”
“I don’t know if it’s really okay,” said Wade. “I think it’s going to screw with his head. But I think you’re right. He has to work through this to get closure. So, yeah, I’ll let you talk to him about it.”
“Wow,” I said. “Great. Thank you.”
Wade sighed. “I only hope Virginia doesn’t decide that I’m a shitty father and make it hard for me to see Kadan after this.”
“Well, should we talk to her?” I said. “Should we ask permission?”
“No,” said Wade. “She’d never say yes. Just try not to traumatize him.”
“I don’t know, man, from what I saw… that ship has maybe sailed.”
“Why? What’d you see?”
“Well, it looks like Tex was an abusive asshole. He was hitting Cheyenne, and he wanted her to tell him where something was, but she wouldn’t tell him. And all of that would be bad enough, except…” I swallowed. “The way he turned it off, it was creepier and worse. One second, he was screaming and terrifying. And the next, he was pretending to be sweet and nice and calling Kadan his ‘little man.’ It was disturbing.”
“Yeah, okay,” said Wade. “I didn’t see it, and I’m plenty disturbed.”
“I’ll be as careful as I can,” I said. “But the kid should probably be in therapy.”
“Noted,” said Wade.
* * *
“Hey,” I said to Kadan. We were in Wade’s old apartment, which was now mostly packed up. There were boxes everywhere. All the walls were bare. The only thing functional in the living room was a couch and the TV.
Kadan was sitting on the couch with a tablet. He was playing a game. He didn’t answer.
“Hey,” I said again. “I want to talk to you.”
“Kadan, put down the game,” said Wade from behind me. He looked over my shoulder at the kid.
Kadan, reluctantly turned off the tablet.
What the hell? I thought. Wade’s been a dad for all of five minutes, and he already has a parent voice.
Kadan looked up at me expectantly.
I sat down next to him. “I want to talk to you about something important.”
“Okay,” said Kadan warily.
“Yeah, it might not be easy to talk about,” I said. “It’s about what happened to your mom.”
“She committed suicide,” Kadan said automatically. His voice was like an emotionless robot’s.
“Did she really?” I said.
Kadan nodded.
“See, I’m not sure that’s how it happened,” I said. “I think maybe your stepfather hurt her.”
Kadan’s eyes widened.
“Am I way off base with that?” I said.
Kadan’s lower lip started to tremble.
“Hey,” I said in my most reassuring voice, “you can tell me.”
Kadan shook his head. “I can’t. If I say anything, I’ll lose Grandma too.”
“What?” I furrowed my brow. “No one’s going to hurt your grandmother.”
Kadan nodded. “He said he would.”
“Who did?”
But Kadan wouldn’t respond to that. He looked down, and he started to shake all over.
“Did Tex say that?” I said.
Kadan hung his head, looking upset. “I’m not supposed to say anything. I’m not supposed to say anything.”
“Listen, if he hurt your mom, we need to know,” I said. “That’s the only way we get him locked up. He should be punished for what he did. Just talk to me.”
Big tears were starting to roll down Kadan’s cheeks. “No,” he said.
“Come on, if you—”
“That’s enough,” said Wade quietly. “He doesn’t want to. Let him be.”
I turned to him. “But Wade, if he knows something—”
“You can’t bully it out of him,” said Wade. “Just stop.”
I sighed, getting up and turning away.
Mads was there. She eyed me. “You could have gone a
little easier on the kid.”
I glared at her. I couldn’t answer her right now, not without looking like an idiot.
“Who’s she?” spoke up Kadan.
I turned to him sharply.
Wade was sitting down next to Kadan on the couch. “What are you talking about, buddy?”
Kadan pointed at Mads. “Her. The pretty lady. Who is she?”
“You can see Mads?”
“Mads?” said Wade. “Who’s Mads?”
“She’s, um, you know, a ghost that I see sometimes. She’s here right now.” I gestured in her general direction.
She smiled at Kadan and waved.
Kadan smiled back. “She’s a ghost? She’s not alive?”
“Nope,” said Mads.
“You’re like my mom, then,” said Kadan.
“You saw your mother’s ghost?” said Wade.
“She’s hurt,” said Kadan, looking down at his hands. “She’s hurt real bad.”
Mads came closer. She knelt down next to Kadan. “We can help your mother, Kadan, but we need you to talk to us. She hurts because she’s been trying to tell us a message about Tex, about what he did to her. We heard her, but we can’t help her without you. Tell us what Tex did.”
“I can’t!” said Kadan in that earnest way only kids can manage. “If I tell anyone, Tex says that he’ll kill my grandmother too.”
“Well, tell me,” said Mads. “I’m a ghost. I don’t count.”
Kadan considered this. “Okay,” he said. “I guess I could tell you.” He pointed at Wade and me. “You two have to leave.”
* * *
Wade and I stood on the porch outside his apartment, which wasn’t really a porch. It was more like a landing. It was maybe three feet wide by three feet deep, and it was cold outside. We huddled into our coats.
“How come my kid can see ghosts?” said Wade.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Did you sense something from him when you met him?” said Wade. “Like, you said when you met that Dominique chick, you felt that she was powerful. Did you feel anything with Kadan?”
“No,” I said. “If I had, I would have said something to you.”
“You better tell me that kind of shit. Don’t keep that from me.”
“I wouldn’t,” I said. “I really don’t know why he can. Maybe it’s because he saw his mother die and become a ghost or something. Maybe that left an imprint on him that changed him.”