The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2) (23 page)

Mik
e
Hollis hung up and went to the kitchen of his rancher. He looked out the window above the sink. They’d gotten a dusting of snow last night. Nothing like what they’d gotten back home.

Funny how he still thought of that place as home, even though he hadn’t been back in fifteen years.

His wife came into the kitchen and rubbed his back. “Hey, you okay?”

She could often tell how he was feeling before he could.

He put his arm around her shoulders. “That guy poking around back home just called.”

“What guy?”

“The ghost hunter.”

“What did he want?”

“Just wanted to ask a few questions ... there was a letter from a guy … hey, hon, you never saw a letter forwarded to us from my dad, did you?”

She gave him a look. “You think your pop would go to the trouble?”

As usual, several conflicting feelings swirled in him about his father. “You’re probably right.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“Yeah. That’ll be fun.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“He emailed me a few days ago … I never got back to him.”

She shrugged. “Do what you want, but it’d be good if you confronted him from time to time.”

“How so? The old bastard’s never going to change. That’s wasted breath.”

She put her hand on his chest. “You’re not calling him for him. You’re calling him for you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” How many times had they had this conversation?

She kissed him on the cheek and went to the living room.

Mike stared at the phone. He had half a mind to forget it. But he was tired of being scared by the old bastard.

“Fuck it.”

The phone rang several times before dad answered.

“Hi, Dad.”

The old man snorted. “You.”

“Yeah, me.”

“Takes you three days to return a call?”

Mike wasn’t going to take shit today. “Yeah, well at least I return the call eventually. You never forward me mail.”

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Bernie gave you a letter for me, ring a bell?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dad’s words were a little rushed. His normally slow cadence picked up a few beats when he was lying.

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Bernie lied about trying to get me a letter.”

“You’re in a mood.”

You’re always in a mood
. “So, yeah, what was that message about?”

“Forget it. I don’t need your help.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. Forget it.”

Dad was always up to something, but Mike didn’t feel like dragging it out of him.

“Did you hear about Colin?” Mike said.

“Who?”

Mike shook his head. He knew the old man was lying now. The old buzzard kept tabs on everybody in town.

“Never mind … I just talked to that ghost hunter, he came by your place he said.”

Dad was quiet for a moment. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“It matters. Tell me.”

Mike sighed. “He thought it was all a hoax, till I told him a couple things about Tessa.”

“Like what things?”

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“He say why he thought it was a hoax?”

Mike frowned. His father had suddenly gotten very intense. Very focused. “No. Just a feeling, I think.”

“When did you talk to him?”

“Few minutes ago.”

“Did he say what he was going to do?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t ask, of course.”

“Why would I?”

His father unleashed a torrent of curses. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

“Dad, what the fuck’s your problem?”

The old man laughed balefully. “So long, kid. It might be awhile before we talk again.”

Mike hung up feeling better about himself. He’d challenged the old buzzard. He’d learn later calling dad was the worst thing he could have done.

Afte
r
a few minutes of solid deliberation, Eddie knocked on Ana’s bedroom door. He heard her stir inside.

“Ana?”

“Come in.”

“Are you decent?”

“Just come in.”

“Ana, this is serious. Can you put some clothes on?”

“Okay. Be right out.”

Eddie backed away a few steps and leaned on the wall. He still wasn’t quite sure how to share what he’d just learned, or how she’d react.

Her door opened. She had some cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt on. Her eyes were half-open and she put her glasses on.

She stood across from him in the tiny hallway. Her bare toes touched his shoes.

“What is it?”

“I just talked to Mike Hollis.”

She watched his face.

He said, “Did you keep any of Tessa’s old stuff?”

“I have some of her clothes, some of her jewelry, her favorite movie, some pictures. Sounds like a lot but it really isn’t.”

“How about her old man?”

Ana thought about it. “Maybe … I’d guess that he kept the same things.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Why?”

He didn’t want to tell her. “I just do. Can you connect us?”

She was already shaking her head. “He won’t talk to you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he called me when this all started and said he didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“Ana, we need his help now. Things have escalated.”

“Tell me why.”

“Your sister was into the occult.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mike Hollis told me.”

“No, she wasn’t.”

Eddie put his hands on her shoulders. “She didn’t broadcast it, but Mike knew.”

“Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“It’s probably nothing, but we have to run it down.”

“Probably nothing? Do you hear yourself, Eddie? She’s doing this. She’s come back to kill all of them.”

Kill all of them
. The words hit him hard. He’d been fighting the hypothetical this whole time, trying to put holes in it. But maybe there were no holes. Maybe this was happening. And maybe he needed to start thinking like it was real if he was going to solve the problem.

“We need to talk to him,” Eddie said. “He might have some of her old things or might know something.”

Ana’s eyes got a faraway look.

“Ana?”

She kept looking through him. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She met his eyes. “No. He won’t open up to you. He probably won’t open up to me, but at least I have a chance to get him to. It’s gotta be me.”

Eddie opened his mouth to protest, but she put her finger on his lips.

“When I turned sixteen, I thought I was a woman. When I graduated high school and went to college, I thought I was grown-up. When I came back home and took a full-time job and paid rent, I thought I was an adult. But I was wrong. Today I am.”

Eddie was speechless.              

“I’ll talk to him.” She got on tiptoes and kissed him. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me.”

* * * *

Eddie folded his arms. He had no idea where to go next. All the evidence was staring him in the face, and he couldn’t debunk it. And yet, he couldn’t believe it either. Maybe he hated Kindler so much he didn’t want this activity to be real. Or maybe it was just pride now keeping him from admitting Ana was right.

“I’ll see you at the lake?” Ana said. She pulled her snow boots on.

He looked out the window. The roads were a mess. “You sure they’ll still have it?”

“We’re used to snow up here.”

There was nothing else for him to do but go back to the evidence. “Yes, I’ll be there. In case this is real, I need to be there.”

She smiled sadly and put her coat on. “What are you going to do?”

“Follow you, make sure you’re okay.”

She came up to him again, looking older than her years suddenly. She put her head against his chest and hugged.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Eddi
e
went to George’s. Maybe a change of scenery would shake something loose in his brain.

Lenny the Drunk was holding up the wall, sitting in his usual corner stool. For once, he was half sober, and gave Eddie a smile like they’d served in the war together.

“Edward, good to see you, old man.”

Eddie smiled at him and stopped at the bar.

George gave Eddie the bartender nod. “Usual?”

“Thanks, George.”

“Edward,” Lenny the Drunk climbed over a few stools so they were next to each other. “I haven’t forgotten about the other night.”

“Forget it, Lenny.”

George went to work on pouring Eddie’s lager. “I hear you’re the honored guest tonight, Eddie.”

Eddie put Ana’s laptop on a table in a booth and walked to the bar to retrieve his brew.

“Don’t remind me. I don’t even want to go.”

George finished the pour and gave Eddie an appreciative look. “It’s on the house today.”

Eddie liked the sound of that but made a show of paying.

George said, “Your money’s no good here today. I’ve been busy as hell the last three days, ever since you started investigating. Figure I owe you.”

“The whole town’s been drinking?”

George smiled. “Not just the whole town. We’re getting tourists.”

“Tourists?”

George nodded. “People from Mountaintop and Ashley have been in here. This is great for business.”

Eddie tipped the pint glass at the bartender. “Well, thanks for the freebie.”

“Thank you, Ed.”

Eddie retreated from George’s bonhomie to the booth, where he stared at the beer for a full thirty seconds before taking a sip. It didn’t even taste that good, when he thought about it.

The second sip tasted better.

Eddie didn’t want to look at the footage anymore. He’d seen it so many times now that his eyes had gone stale. If there was something to see, he’d miss it at this point.

But it was that or just sit there and drink beer. So he welcomed the distraction of the laptop. He waited for the machine to wake up.

“You going tonight, George?”

“Wish I could.” George leaned forward against the bar. “Sounds like it’s going to be one hell of a show.”

“Show?”

“I think Marty’s got something planned, but you didn’t hear that from me.” George winked and put his fingers to his lips to signal quiet.

“Like what?” Eddie said.

“Oh, I don’t know.” George waved both hands. “Just some lights, some music, maybe some vendors. I heard a rumor about a medium, but who knows.”

Last thing Eddie wanted was to attend some carnival.

“Marty’s always got something going, you know,” George said, like Kindler was PT Barnum reincarnated.

The laptop was finally ready for him. Yeah, Kindler always has something going, doesn’t he?

George’s words resonated. What if—

The front door swung open. Five college-looking kids came in, the three guys rowdy, the two girls sweetly apologetic for their friends.

Eddie wondered when college-aged kids had last stopped by George’s bar. Not really their scene.

He ignored the students and opened the old footage first. Watched it again. Didn’t see anything new.

He had to look at the evidence with fresh eyes somehow.

* * * *

Traffic was horrendous with the snow drifts so it took Ana twice as long to get to his house. Tessa’s dad lived on the other edge of town in an old rancher. The roof bowed near one corner and the driveway hadn’t been plowed. She was forced to park at the mouth of the driveway. Her car was just small enough it wasn’t sticking out into the street.

She trudged through the snow. She’d been filled with courage back at the apartment, ready to take on the most important step in their investigation all by herself. Ready to deal with a man who was cryptic, untrustworthy. Who didn’t really like her. But she’d learned from Eddie. Those willing to deal with the unpleasant things were the ones who got the job done.

Before she reached the porch, the outside light winked on and the front door opened.

Lee was a tall man with broad shoulders and a beer belly. He watched her from the doorway with folded arms.

Ana stepped onto the porch. They weren’t related but it felt like they should have been. Lee wasn’t her father, but he was dad to the only sister she’d ever had. She realized before she opened her mouth to speak they’d probably only exchanged a hundred words. Lee had been to the house when she was younger, to see Tessa, but he usually waited in his car and he didn’t go out of his way to speak to her.

Normally she would have called him Mr. Orly. But today she said, “Hi, Lee.”

He opened the screen door. “What do you want?”

“Your help.”

* * * *

Instead of closing the window of the old footage, Eddie minimized it and brought up another window with the new footage. Maybe looking at these videos side-by-side would expose something.

He went right to the footage of the prints from last night. Watched it again. Nothing jumped out at him. Then he rewatched the old footage. Studied the prints as they formed on the carpet.

Frustration started to get the better of him. He felt like he was wasting his time. The evidence was right in front of him. He just had to accept it and move on.

* * * *

“The occult?”

Lee hadn’t let Ana in. Didn’t show any sign he was going to. So Ana had decided to forge ahead and do the interview right from the porch.

“Yes, you know—”

“I know what it is.”

“Why are you here?” It was the third time he’d asked.

“There’s a chance she’s doing all this. We just found out she had an interest in the occult and we’re running down our only lead.”

“You think my Tessa is trying to kill these guys?” His voice nearly cracked at my Tessa.

“I was too young to really know her so that’s why I’m here. Please help me. Maybe I can help her find some peace.”

“How the fuck are you going to do that?”

She had no idea. It had just sounded like the right thing to say. Hot tears welled in her eyes.

“I don’t know yet. But I can’t help her if I don’t have all the information. Do you mind if I come inside?”

Lee gave her a look. She was sure he was going to shut the door in her face, but then he surprised her.

“Come on in.”

* * * *

Eddie killed his second beer. George had already brought a third over. All of it on the house.

Eddie flipped through the images on the laptop, but he was just going through the motions. He’d memorized the photos and nothing jumped out.

He pushed the laptop away and leaned back in the booth. It was Tessa doing this. It had to be. He had to get over being wrong. Which meant that Kindler was in danger. Tessa had already gotten Colin and almost gotten Bernard. That left Marty Kindler, who this very evening was returning to the lake shore where he’d watched Tessa drown. There was a perfect symmetry that Eddie couldn’t ignore.

He really needed to get to the lake.

But then what would he do?

There was no precedent for this. His only advice to Kindler would be to stay away from the lake, but there was no chance in hell of that now that he’d built this event up. After that, what could Eddie do for Kindler? Advise him to stay away from the lake, advise him to watch out for water in general? Convince Tessa to stop?

He swigged his beer and put it on the table. His arm came down next to Ana’s notebook and it made him think of another useless bit of trivia—the length of your forearm was roughly the same length as your foot.

“Full of wisdom, aren’t you?” he said.

But his brain seized on the thought. It made him think about the size of the footprints. He’d asked Ana to find out Tessa’s shoe size. She hadn’t done that yet because they’d been running a million miles an hour the last two days.

Some idea tugged at the back of his brain.

* * * *

Ana said, “You don’t have anything like that?”

Lee shook his head and sipped his whiskey. There was a half-empty bottle and an old notebook on the end table next to his recliner. Ana got the sense he’d been drinking all afternoon, on the anniversary of his little girl’s death.

“I kept a lot, but I got rid of that stuff.” Lee put his whiskey down. “I’m not that religious, but I believe in God and that stuff felt wrong to keep around.”

Ana wasn’t taking notes, but she didn’t have to. She’d never forget this conversation for as long as she lived.

“What kind of things did Ana have?”

“The shape with the five points and a circle … the pentagram.” Lee was having a hard time sharing this information. He drew the shape in the air.

“Did she keep a journal?”

He nodded. His hand fell on the spiral notebook on the end table. “Yes.”

Ana ignored how awkward it was talking to him and asked what she needed to ask. “Can I read it?”

Lee took in a big breath and held it for a second. “There’s nothing about devil-worship in there.”

Ana didn’t know a thing about the occult. But she’d learned from Eddie that stretching the truth could get you to the next step.

“The two aren’t synonymous. She could have been studying other things.”

Lee’s eyes drifted to the floor. His hand still rested on the notebook.

There was no other card to play. But Ana didn’t feel bad about it. Too much was at stake.

“Please, Lee. She was my sister, and I hardly remember her.”

* * * *

Eddie’s adrenaline surged as his conscious mind got to the idea that had been teasing him.

He had only measured the prints from last night and compared the ones in the laundry room with those in the man cave.

He hadn’t compared prints from different nights.

Not that that would be easy to do. He’d have to eyeball the footage and see if there were differences.

He watched the old video first, then the new one.

His breath caught in his throat.

Eddie leaned closer to the laptop. This was about as scientific as his miniature biodome project in fifth grade.

But he noticed a difference.

He fast-forwarded and found images of prints from different nights that were in the same spot in the trophy room. Same camera, same angle.

His eyes jumped back and forth from one window to the next.

One print was noticeably larger.

He blew the images up, making them grainier and less sharp.

They looked different by at least two sizes.

He could see the same foot leaving a slightly different print. It could depend on the wetness of the foot and the tiny differences in the carpet. But here the length and even the width of the two feet were different.

What the hell did that mean?

Eddie sat up in the booth. His eyes drifted from the screen.

It was all a hoax.

He laughed loud enough to draw the stares of George and the college kids. They looked at him like he was crazier than Lenny the Drunk.

Small problem. This wasn’t definitive proof. These disparities could be explained away by subtle differences in the lens’ depth of field and lighting by anybody with a rudimentary knowledge of film.

But now he knew.

He needed something more before he went to Lieutenant Whitmore. Something undeniable that would knock down the entire house of cards.

He racked his brain. He needed another piece of evidence. What would Tim do?

False in one, false in all
.

It was something Tim had said all the time. Find one discrepancy, you were going to find more.

In the corner, the college kids were playing darts on the ratty old board and carrying on like it was happy hour on campus. Lenny the Drunk stumbled toward the girls, who looked at him like he was diseased.

Then the full import of George’s words hit him. College kids were coming in for a drink. And there had actually been tourists in the bar.

“Goddamnit. It’s so fucking obvious,” he said.

Now he knew what was going on.

And then the larger truth hit him.

There was a real murderer out there.

* * * *

Ana flipped to the last page of Tessa’s journal. She had written the night before her death.

A chill ran through Ana. She pulled her eyes off the page, wondering if Tessa was watching her now, wondering if Tessa considered this an invasion of privacy.

Lee had excused himself to use the bathroom and he hadn’t come back. Ana heard him in the kitchen now, occupying himself with busy work to give her time with the journal.