Dead Sure?: A Paranormal Mystery (39 page)

*    *    *

After breaking in a large side window and searching the place, Tim concluded that it was as dead as a morgue. No one was around. What had happened to all of Angela’s gang, worse yet, what the hell had happened to Angela? Tim’s new backup plan called for waiting it out here, but not until he took care of a couple things first. Exiting the house, Tim slid painfully back into his car.

It hadn’t taken him long to locate Lefty. Just as he had thought, the kid jumped at a chance to take care of Tim’s last will and testament for a little scratch. It felt strange asking a kid to do something this grownup, but there was nobody else he knew or trusted in this era.
Lefty is more like an adult than a kid anyway,
he rationalized.

Tim found himself sitting in front of a very familiar- looking house. A house that belonged to his real life memories, and not this illusory existence that was slowly engulfing who he really was or used to be, even he wasn’t sure any more.

Stay grounded this is reality all right. Grandma’s house, I used to love coming here as a boy, as a young adult, as myself, Tim Landers. I feel kind of guilty breaking into grandma’s. It’s not like I’m going to wreck anything; on the contrary, it might be the only way I’m going to fix everything, or at a minimum it will be my insurance plan. I must make sure my message can be deciphered. This is perfect; Grammy will be at church right now. If I’m careful, she’ll never even know that anything was disturbed.

*    *    *

Angela had arrived at the main house only to find it completely deserted. She paced the house several times in disbelief that it all had gone so wrong. Entering her office, she sat down behind her desk and tried to visualize a happier time several months before Tim had arrived, turning her life upside down. Back then she knew who she was. She never wavered and she never questioned herself. Now all that had changed. Her big plans seemed to have crumbled before her like ash falling off the end of a cigarette.

A smoke, that’s what I need to calm my nerves.
Fumbling through her desk drawer, she retrieved a cigar and lighter. Sitting back, she puffed gently on the stogie, blowing a halfhearted smoke ring. The raggedy wisp floated gently off, dissipating rapidly. Angela couldn’t help but compare its disappearance to her life drifting uncontrollably away from her.

*    *    *

Having finished the task with the will and the message, Tim headed back towards the mansion, hoping against hope that this time he would find someone or find out something that could help him determine what to do next.

Pulling up the long front yard and into the circular drive, he noticed two cars parked out front.
Things are looking up at last. Maybe Angela’s back, or at least somebody with information.
Tim parked and walked up the porch steps to the palatial front entryway. The big stained glass center window was still dark, no illumination from interior lights shining outward.

Stepping up to it, he tried the handle. The door was still locked, just as it had been earlier. Tim began to knock gently before stopping and thinking better of it.
Maybe I should poke around more warily. Who knows what’s been going on? It probably wouldn’t hurt to get my gun out, just in case.

Charles had arrived a few minutes earlier and, hearing the automobile pull up, had concealed himself around the corner of the house behind some shrubs. Craftily getting up from his hiding spot, he watched Tim knock on the door and then begin to fumble for something in his suit coat pocket. The corners of Charles’s mouth turned upward slightly at first and then completely, as he grinned like a cat that had just eaten the proverbial canary.
It’s almost too easy. I couldn’t have asked for better luck. Fate is really with me on this plan.

Charles circled the porch, coming to an abrupt stop directly behind Tim, standing stock-still gun in hand, waiting for just the right opening. He wasn’t going to rush this opportunity; he was going to savor it.
The only detail that would make this moment any better would be if Angela were here to see it. That bitch can live alone in the past, if she’s even still alive. I walloped her pretty damn hard back at the observation deck.

Angela heard the faint knock and it stirred her back from her momentary musing. Reaching into the second desk drawer down, she pulled out a small silver pearl- handled derringer. Getting up, she tried to slink towards the front door. The excruciating pain in her head and the stiffness in her joints from having spent a night on the concrete floor made it almost impossible to move stealthily.

Peering around the corner and down the crimson- colored main hallway, she could make out a silhouette of a man standing at the door. The colored glass was not translucent enough for her to identify the individual. Her heart began to race at thoughts of what might be coming next. Hesitating briefly, Angela reasoned that it was unlikely to be an attacker,
they probably wouldn’t bother knocking. More likely they would come busting in, guns blazing, trying hard to rapidly subdue their quarry.
Based on this premise, she took a tentative step forward.

Blood pumping, Charles’s finger tightened around the trigger, and he began to shoot. The first slug struck Tim in the upper right shoulder, pushing him forward and causing his body to spin sideways. The next bullet slammed heavily into his left side, knocking him into the stained glass door.

The ornate glass, being more beautiful than strong, gave way under Tim’s weight and he crashed through it, decorative tinted shards cascading in every direction. Tim went sprawling headlong onto the hallway floor, struggling to make heads or tails out of what was happening. All Tim could think was that the life was draining out of him rapidly. His vision filled with scenes he knew weren’t really there. Little Rene was looking at him questioningly, her expression almost saying “daddy where are you.”

He struggled to regain focus, but more images flooded his mind. It was as if all of his memories were flashing before his eyes.

Angela bent low, pulling back behind the corner leading to the hall at the sound of the first shot. Several more shots followed in rapid succession, and she peeked around the corner just in time to see a man crashing through the stained glass window. At first things were happening so fast, she didn’t recognize who it was. Presently her mind processed what she’d seen and a second look confirmed her worst fears; it was her lover Tim.

Not thinking rationally, Angela began a mad dash forward. She could hear more shots going off; however, the blasts seemed almost far away. All of her focus and attention was on getting to Tim. When she reached him, his eyes were still open but she knew the glassy look all too well. “Nooo, it can’t be,” she sobbed in agony. Glancing up, anguish began to turn to rage as she saw Charles strutting up the front porch steps with a satisfied look on his face.

“Angela, I couldn’t have planned this better. Having you here to witness Tim’s execution is priceless.”

Angela became aware of the small derringer she still clutched tightly in her right hand. Keeping her tear-filled eyes on Charles so as not to give away her intentions, she began to speak. “Why?” was the only word her quavering voice could muster.

Charles laughed a deep guttural laugh. “Do you really need to ask?” he replied jovially, the smoking gun still in his hand.

A split second later, Angela brought her gun up and squeezed. The trigger stuck halfway, jamming the weapon, the firearm refusing to bring about her will.

“Nice try, but fate is in my corner. My whole plan has gone swimmingly. I found it, you know, the object you and Tim were searching so desperately for. Now I’m about to leave you behind, taking great pleasure that you’ll be miserable and alone. You can’t just dump me like yesterday’s newspaper.” Charles dropped his revolver and with his right hand reached over his shoulder tugging at something.

Angela couldn’t believe it, after all the things he had done to her, the many betrayals; his warped twisted mind was blaming her for the failure of their relationship.
For god’s sake, the man went as far as trying to kill me. He’s a real loon and I’m not far from it.
“You bastard,” she began to scream, tears of anguish and rage cascading down her face. The makeup bleeding down from her eyes was giving her a truly wild and out of control look.

“Not this time. I’m number one, not you!”

Angela leapt at him an animal lust to kill overcoming all her senses. As her body reached his, Charles’s right hand was coming forward from behind his shoulder. Before this final outburst, he was about to taunt Angela with the prize. The item which Tim and she sought was an ancient Chinese Dao fighting sword. The cold blue steel seemed to gleam briefly as the broadsword came slashing forward before making a sickening thwacking sound, as it cleaved through Angela’s left shoulder and neck.

The momentum from her lunge drove the Dao even deeper, sending both their bodies toppling backwards. Charles started to wish he was already in the future, away from this crazy place. A new life that’s what he needed, no that’s what he deserved.

Charles cringed instinctively as his body began to hit the hardwood floor, only it wasn’t hard.
No wait, this isn’t a floor.
He could feel the soft earth with his left hand.
What the hell? I must have made my wish.
The next thing that registered in his disoriented brain was that Angela was lying lifeless on top of him. Her eyes wide open looking directly into his. He began to shove her off when her lips began to move. He stopped horror struck.

“I’ll get you for this, no matter what I have to do,” she gasped out in a guttural whisper.

Charles was not easily scared, but the tone of this sent chills up his spine. Hastily, he pushed her away and jumped up. Pulling the sword loose from her neck and shoulder, he began to stab her repeatedly. “You won’t be getting anybody, not this time!”

When the rage in him subsided, he began to look around. His surroundings were unfamiliar to him. He was in some type of forest or park. In the distance, he could hear whooshing noises. They reminded him of the sound of heavy traffic, like the downtown district on a holiday.

Slowly he began walking towards the source of the sounds. It wasn’t long before he found himself staring at a giant road. It was huge, with four lanes of traffic running in each direction, and the cars.
Holy crap, they look different.

Chapter 29
Tues. early evening Aug. 7
th
, 2007

Tuesday early evening August 7
th
, 2007

His conversation with uncle Lefty had sure been interesting, but what the hell did it have to do with his boss Steve Yates? Why did Steve want the journal so desperately?
I could just give him the damn thing and save myself a lot of trouble.
Jack glanced at his Oakley Judge watch.
Shit, I’m already late to meet with him. If I piss him off too much I could find myself unemployed and unable to buy the things I really enjoy.
He glanced at his expensive watch again.
If this peculiar journal can help Rene, though, I’ve got to do it. I need to go somewhere and wrap my head around things. 

*    *    *

Rene had just finished tearing apart Jack’s apartment to no avail. Her head was throbbing. One minute she could think clearly and would start to wonder what she was doing here. The next minute her mind would go back into a fog. Rene felt like she was someone else entirely. Almost like watching a movie with some character doing something or other. This persona was so angry though. Rene could feel the stranger’s rage surging through her every fiber. The presence so desperately wanted something; the emotion was revenge but there was a physical something as well.
Yes, that’s it, she wants Tim’s journal. How is that possible, that’s not a movie it’s really life for me. Am I just losing my marbles, no, no I don’t believe that. These drugs are helping me to hold on. This is one of those crazy episodes, only this time I can remember or see some of it. Maybe getting the journal and doing something with it will somehow put a stop to all of this. Jack must have the journal with him.

Rene pulled out her cell phone, selecting Jack’s number.
I just hope he picks up, I’ve got to resolve this.

Crap, I bet that’s Steve calling me again.
Jack picked the cell phone up from the center column, pleasantly surprised to see the caller id showing Rene’s name.
Yes, someone I actually want to speak to.
“Hi Rene, I was hoping you’d call.”

The sound of his voice on the other end made her smile. She felt a modicum of warmth returning to her disposition. “Jack, I need your help with something. I think I have a clue why I’ve been acting so nutty lately.”

“This may sound funny, but I think I could help shed some light on the situation as well.”

“Let’s get together and discuss it, and no matter how strange I might start acting let’s work through this. Meet me at your place,” Rene suggested.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. My boss Steve’s looking for me. We need to meet somewhere that he won’t find me. How about Flannigan’s Bar and Grill in about a half an hour?”

“Sure, I can do that, it’s too bad your place wouldn’t work out, I’m already there,” Rene replied, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden.

Hearing the edginess in her voice, Jack replied, “Don’t worry about it, just get going. By the way, think about this on the way over. What would it mean to you if your dad left you a message about starting at the bottom?”

Her thoughts perfectly clear, Rene answered immediately. “My family has a history of writing messages to each other on the bottom of heirloom furniture that passes through the family. My grandmother’s dresser has a name and message written on the bottom of the drawers from each person in my family that owned it previously. It’s actually kind of a fun tradition. You really appreciate the history of the piece and feel special as you add your own name.” Rene paused for a second, stopping to think about why Jack had asked such an unusual question. “Why would you ask me that? My father has been missing since I was a little girl,” Rene added, starting to feel anxious.

“I’ll explain more in person, now get going will ya!”

“Sure,” she replied still lost in her thoughts. Rene walked down the back steps, heading towards her car. Her emotions were swinging like a pendulum, from being giddy about getting together with Jack and solving this mystery, to an uncontrollable rage. Rene noticed the edge of her vision attempting to go black and close in on her. This sensation came in waves every time the rage started to surface.
I have to stay in control. Jack’s going to help me get to the bottom of this thing. I can just feel it.

Just then a car pulled into the driveway. The car was a distinctive Duesenberg.
That car looks very familiar.
The gentleman stepping out of the car was Steve, Jack’s boss. The man Rene had supposedly tried to kill.
Shit, he must be looking for Jack and that can’t be good. If I can just stay focused, I’ll play it cool and say something about looking for Jack as well.

Steve jumped out of the car, approaching quickly like a man on a mission. Before he closed the distance that separated them, he began speaking. “Rene, where’s Jack? It’s urgent that I speak with him immediately!”

Just stay cool and play dumb.
“I’d like to know the same thing. That goofball was supposed to meet me for coffee.”

“Really, I had an appointment with him that he didn’t show up for and he’s off making coffee dates with you. That seems a little strange, don’t you think?” Steve finished with an accusatory tone.

Rene started to reply; however, the rage had won, her vision fading immediately and absolutely without warning.

Steve stood frozen, staring in amazement.
It can’t be her, it just can’t be.
Mumbling he said, “I killed you myself.”

Rene launched herself at him, her hands going for the throat. The pair fell backwards to the ground, hitting the driveway hard. Rene’s hands around Steve’s neck, she began to choke the man with all her might.

The fall had knocked the wind out of Steve, and the unforgiving hands around his throat weren’t helping matters any. He struggled to focus, his sight beginning to blur, and then with pure instinct Steve’s right hand found its way into his pocket. Pulling out car keys and gripping the key blade between the two middle fingers of his hand, he swung a solid punch at her cheek. The blow connected solidly, forcing the blade into the side of her face, knocking Angela clear of him.

She rolled to the side, temporarily stunned by the blow. Steve used this to his advantage, swiftly getting to his feet and proceeding to pummel her with a series of kicks, some to the head followed by others to the ribs as she brought her arms up in an attempt to protect herself from the onslaught.

Rene lay there writhing in agony as the barrage of kicks slowly subsided.
How did I get on the ground, what’s going on?
Moving her hands slowly away from her face, she saw Steve looking at her with a bemused expression on his face.
That’s right, I was talking to Steve and then, then nothing, damn it.

“This just can’t be happening. I must be losing it. Rene, is that you? Not that it really matters anymore. I can’t have this getting out.” Slowly, he turned away methodically walking towards his car.

Where the hell is he going, what’s going on?
Rene tried to sit up. Sharp pains shot through her rib cage before she sank back to the ground clutching her sides.
Kicking, he was kicking me mercilessly, that’s what happened. I have to get the hell out of here.

Before Rene could take further action, Steve was back carrying a tire iron and some rope. Rene watched him raise the iron before everything disappeared. 

*    *    *

Jack was sitting in a corner booth at Flannigan’s drinking his second beer. His cell phone rang incessantly again with another call from Steve.
Where the hell is Rene, she should have been here by now. If I turn this irritating thing off I won’t know if she is trying to reach me.
Jack pushed the button to silence the ringing again. This was at least the fourth time in the last several minutes that Steve had tried to call.
That man is desperate for something and that can’t be good. I’m going to end up so fired. What the hell, I’ll bounce back somehow.

*    *    *

That asshole, he must know more than I suspect. Why the hell else wouldn’t he just meet with me and turn over the fucking journal? I can’t and I won’t have him finding that god damn medallion. After all these years it doesn’t seem possible, the past is the past..

His thoughts were interrupted when Rene stirred behind him. Steve had used the rope to bind her ankles and wrists tightly. He hadn’t bothered gagging her because their current location was quite remote.

She tried to force out a scream but the attempt was met with a series of severe pains traveling up and down her ribs, and a coughing fit that only exacerbated things. When the coughing stopped, she looked at her attacker a mixture of fear and confusion on her face. “Why?” she whispered hoarsely.

“You wouldn’t understand or believe me if I told you. Now you’re going to tell me where I can find your boyfriend Jack.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” she spat back defiantly.

Steve kneeled down on the cement floor, getting his face up next to hers and waving his pointer finger animatedly. “Let me tell you this, if you and your stupid boyfriend are going to live through this, then you had better be very cooperative. I have no qualms about killing you to get what I need. Do I make myself clear?” His facial countenance turned to that of utter craziness, spit was flying haphazardly from his mouth as he finished speaking.

Standing up, he drilled the point home with another hard kick to Rene’s midsection. The shock of it slid her across the floor about a foot. Shockingly, she could feel her feet dangling off some type of ledge. Laying on her right side, she made a painful effort to turn over and get her bearings. It was a ledge all right, and it looked like a long drop down into the gloom. Her eyes widened with fear at the thought of it.

“Don’t like the look of it, do you?” He smiled, not a hint of remorse showing. Steve gave her a little shove with the toe of his black leather shoe.

Rene could feel her legs slipping just a little further over the precipice, the edge of it pushing into her upper thigh. Taking a painful deep breath, she answered, “I was supposed to meet Jack at Flannigan’s.”

Bending down Steve grabbed her by the red t-shirt she was wearing and dragged her back away from the edge. “Now see, that wasn’t so difficult after all,” he said condescendingly. “What were you two going,” before he could finish his sentence, he watched a change come over Rene, a transformation that terrified him. “You bitch, how is it possible?”

Angela just laughed, “Its payback time, dear!”

He was staring at Rene again. The whole thing transpired so rapidly, Steve was really beginning to doubt his senses.
This is just ridiculous, I need to button things up tight and be done with this whole mess.
He pulled a cell phone from his pants pocket and spoke the name Shelby.

“Hello Steve, what do you need?” she answered rather sarcastically.

Not even bothering with pretence, he replied, “I need you to get over to Flannigan’s and meet with that Jack fellow you like so much.”

Shelby smiled inwardly at the thought of her last meeting with Jack, “Sure, and then what?”

“Get him to come with you to the old grain mill, alone in your car. Make sure he brings the journal.”

“And what if he won’t come?”

“Then persuade him by sharing the following. His little bitch of a girlfriend Rene has been kidnapped, and that if he doesn’t follow instructions exactly, she’s going to wind up dead. How’s that for motivating?” he stated rhetorically.

“Listen, Steve, I’m willing to do a lot of things but participating in a kidnapping scheme isn’t one of them.”

Steve switched his persona to silky smooth without missing a beat. “Of course you’re not a criminal, Shelby.” Rene heard the name Shelby and began a wavering attempt to protest. She quickly stopped as Steve turned, pushing her ever so slightly back towards the edge with his foot. She stared in wonder at the rat bastard, who didn’t interrupt the flow of his spiel in the process.  “The whole thing is a ruse to get Jack over here with the book. I would never abduct anyone either. What you are is good at being convincing, so convince him the story is real and we will both get what we desire.” Steve could hear her hesitation on the other end of the phone. “Trust me; I’ll make this endeavor extraordinarily worth your while.” 

“What happens after Jack finds out the whole thing is a phony, then what?” she said shakily, her usual self-confidence slipping somewhat.

“Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of it. Just get him here with the journal and leave the rest to me.”

“I’m not so sure about this.”

“Don’t get cold feet now, Shelby darling; you’re already in this scheme way too deep. Stop and think what the psychiatry board would say about a certain prescription. Or need I remind you about other ethical transgressions? I’ll expect to see you and Jack within the hour,” and on that note, Steve slid his phone shut.

“Why, what’s so important about that journal?” Rene asked dejectedly.