In the Dead of Night (14 page)

Thankfully, there are enough other places on this property that I find quite interesting, where the cold spots and such are not near as antagonistic. Just as long as we don’t overstay our welcome, that is.

“Hey, Jimmy…Fiona, Jackie.”

Tony clambered down the staircase from the second level. I can tell he cares for this area of the house even less than I do. He nervously glanced toward the kitchen a couple of times before joining the rest of us in the living room.

“Hey, bro,” I greeted him, forcing my tone to sound better than I felt. “You look like you’re having a ball.”

“Yeah, you, too,” he shot back. “It’s just like last time…. Hopefully, we’ll get some stuff on film so we don’t have to come back here for awhile.”

He kept his tone low to not offend our host, who disappeared into the kitchen to grab some soft drinks for everyone. I‘ll bet she feels the same way we do—probably worse now that the shadow people have become more violent. But unlike us, Marie’s stuck here with nowhere else to go. In a couple of hours we’ll be on our way home, while she and her pups will still share this place with their unwanted ‘guests’.

Fiona told us the latest news about this haunting on the way out here tonight. What used to be a couple of these dark spirit forms have grown to five, and the newest phantoms interact with the family on a daily basis. Matthew, Marie’s oldest child, seems to be the focus for most of the activity. Similar to my wife, Matt is a ‘sensitive’ who might be more gifted than Fiona. At least she thinks so.

According to the kid, these ‘shadow men’ pursue him throughout each day. Sometimes they sit next to him, on the couch in the very living room we presently stood in. He felt an icy chill while playing a video game last weekend, and when he turned to look, a dark figure sat next to him, turning its undefined face toward him.

That’s messed up as hell, man. But there’s more shit to go with this.

Fiona also mentioned how Matt watched one of the other shadow suckers pick up some crayons belonging to his sister, Kelly, and threw them at both Matt and her. Since he clearly saw what was about to happen he ducked in time. Kelly? Three crayons pelted her in the head, one right after the other, seemingly out of thin air.

I suppose there’s some humor in that, but it won’t be funny if it happens to us tonight.

“So, Marie, can you show us the spot where something unseen pushed you to the floor, before it started dragging you down the stairs?”

Fiona’s in her mode now…no sign of any trauma from the recent helping of bad news she received today. Good leaders are like that, and it doesn’t matter what field of work we’re talking about. Lawyers, politicians, doctors, and even call center managers have to be able to put aside personal distractions when it’s showtime. I’d definitely include lead paranormal investigators, too.

“Yes…follow me upstairs.”

Man, she didn’t want to do this. Despite having to continue her stay in this place, we could all see Marie’s terrible fear. It was almost like tattling on the ghosts would incur some dire consequences.

Tom appeared at the top of the stairs holding his infrared camera in one hand and a more advanced EMF detector in the other. He stepped aside to let us up, all the while Jackie and I shot numerous photographs around us. In a freaky situation like this, neither of us cared if the lights are on or not. Anomalies might still show up...or so we hope.

“Right here…it happened right after I turned the hall light off and stepped toward my bedroom,” said Marie, her voice shaking.

“Then it grabbed you, and pulled you
down
the stairs?” asked Jackie, her tone incredulous.

“Yes, it did…can we move away from this spot, if you don’t mind?”

She didn’t wait for us to follow her down the hall, moving to Kelly’s bedroom. Inside, Matt and Kelly sat on the floor playing a card game.

“I’ve got two voice recorders and video cams set up in both kids’ rooms, and another recorder and camera set up in Marie’s bedroom,” Tom advised, clearing his throat when Marie shot him a wary glance.

Don’t worry, sister…Tom may look like a nerdy perv, but I seriously doubt the dude rummaged through your panty drawer.

“What have you picked up so far?” asked Marie, posing this question to Fiona. “Anything important yet?”

“Yes,” said Fiona. She paused and looked above her, listening to some disembodied voice unavailable to the rest of us. “One of the spirits here is talking to me…her name is ‘Rachel’.”

She moved over to the spot where Marie claimed she’d been attacked.

“It’s not her…she’s not the one who tried to hurt you,” my wife continued, looking back at all of us, standing just outside Kelly’s bedroom door. The kids continued their game inside the room. “It’s a male, but not one normally from here. Rachel talks about the others, and they don’t want the male spirit to hurt you. But he’s more powerful than they are…. She says Josiah, a slave spirit who resides here, is afraid of this other spirit. He calls it a demon…but Rachel says it’s not. It’s just a bad man.”

For some reason I thought of the dude with red hair. Weird association among predatory males, I guess. Or, could it be some crazy connection in my warped mind that tied a psychopathic killer to a psychopathic ghost?

Fiona looked over at me, a queer expression on her face while her bottom lip quivered. I quickly thought about something else to distract her: Shelby and Porkchop. Probably sitting on the porch wondering when we’d be leaving. Soon, my dear boys…hopefully very soon.

“I’d like to speak with Matt for a moment,” she said, stepping past us into Kelly’s room. Matt stood up while Kelly looked on. “Do you see them around you?”

He nodded, looking down at the floor.

“There’s one in the room right now,” he advised, his tone soft, like he carried fears similar to his mom. “It’s standing next to me.” He pointed to his left side.

Fiona snapped two quick photos without warning. It surprised both mother and child.

“Sorry, Matt,” she said, kneeling down to give him a hug. “You poor baby…we’ll find a way to make it go away. We’ll make them
all
go away.”

***

Tom kept everything on track, reminding us that we still had a planned exploration of the grounds to complete before our scheduled departure at midnight. As much as I enjoyed the inside investigation, I really couldn’t wait to look around outside.

Yeah, all cynicism aside it was a necessary evil. In the literal sense.

I could live with a quick tour of the immediate grounds around the house. But, no way in hell was I going back into the barn. My last visit there almost earned me a trip to the hospital. A frigging pitchfork nearly hit me in the head—and I’m not saying something or someone threw it at me. It could’ve just fallen off its hook by some natural means. Just the same, I had no intention of finding out the truth on that one. I didn’t want anyone else in our NVP group to explore that spot either.

It may seem like some real bullshit here that I could bravely face the crazy asshole who followed me home a couple of nights ago, and then be such a pussy when it comes to dark shadows that look like human forms. Well, the dude from the other night turned around and left, so it’s hard to say what I’d have done had the black Buick tried to run me down. Not to mention I’d readily fight to the death to protect Fiona and the boys from any menace, alive or dead. Period. End of story.

But, something sinister that I can neither see nor grab around the neck, and on somebody else’s turf? That’s a different scenario entirely. An icy touch from a shadow person can penetrate the heaviest clothing and painfully cut through flesh and bone.

Luckily, other than Porkchop’s skittishness the outside investigation was pretty much uneventful. No creepy feelings that indicated a hostile entity followed us around. None at all. I guess all of the ornery suckers decided to stay inside the house this time.... We’ll have to wait and see if we caught anything with our cameras and audio recorders, since Tom’s infrared came up empty as well.

When we finally called it quits, Marie seemed very reluctant to let us go home. It’s quite understandable after being stalked and brutally harassed by an invisible menace for weeks on end. Fiona gave her a warm hug while glancing at me. From under the porch light’s bug-flickering glow, I saw something in my wife’s eyes…something that would stay with me for much of the next week.

Our own hidden menace was getting closer, ready to strike again. Perhaps someone dearer to us than those we’ve already lost will be next. The terror in Fiona’s expression confirms this as a real premonition.... I hope I’m not being an idiot by keeping my ‘night stalker’ knowledge to myself. Especially in light of what she told me earlier that afternoon, after she informed me that the cops don’t have any strong leads yet. “It’s all a big game to this guy,” she had said, worriedly. “The longer it takes to catch him, the less fear he has of being discovered. I believe he’ll raise the stakes...soon.”

I pray she’s dead wrong about that. I’m in no hurry to personally understand Marie’s point of view. Only instead of ‘stalked and harassed’, it could be ‘hunted and killed’.

Chapter Thirteen

“Well look-ee here…Jimmy’s all churched up!”

Justin was the first to greet us at Sunday’s memorial service for Candi, Johnny, and Brenda. Held at West End Presbyterian Church, the place was packed. Celebrities and common folks like us, innumerable...or so it seemed. This was another likeable quality of Candi’s, since the lawyers handling her estate knew firsthand she’d prefer being honored along with her hairdressers, two of her closest friends in life to join her in death’s memoriam. Classy lady, despite what anyone thought about her name.

“Yep, you’re seeing me in the only suit I own,” I told him, standard handshake this time, given the locale and circumstance. “But I’ve got nothin’ on you, bro!”

Very true. Fiona readily agreed, unable to resist a hand brush against the right sleeve of Justin’s designer suit. Not that my pinstripes didn’t catch an eye. But he looked just like Michael Vick on the pages of Sports Illustrated, right before he signed with the Eagles when he got out of prison. Justin trimmed up his beard, too…so suave.

Jackie could scarcely contain her excitement about ‘sexy Justin’, announcing his dress details to us when we first arrived, followed by a faux fan wave as if she might faint from desire. This, despite her partner Michelle standing nearby. Even Angie noticed, standing nearby and smiling in admiration. Poor Tom and Tony, both dressed in impeccable suits as well, received no such fanfare. Not that it’d matter outside of our small circle of friends anyway. With so many pretty people from the music industry in attendance, just those who looked like they belong in that group got a second look. Justin, a GQ looking African-American couldn’t help but get noticed in a predominately white affair. The rest of us just sort of blended in with our surroundings.

As for me, my only concern is looking halfway comfortable in a suit. Hate it, I do. But since it’s to honor our friends today, I’m happy to wear it for them.

The ushers moved us up near the front, just a few rows behind Candi’s and Brenda’s families, who took the trip out west from New Jersey and Vermont. Fiona had met Candi’s mom previously, Shirley Miller, so before sitting next to me she went up to her and gave her a tearful hug. Really, it was an intense and poignant moment, since shared grief and hoped for healing are the only noble reasons to be here. Although I didn’t grieve like Fiona and Candi’s mom did, I hurt a lot more right then, watching them.

Candice Miller, as the minister later told the audience, loved life. She lived it fully, as evident in her music career that she pursued seriously after a failed marriage in her early twenties. Her divorce set a fire under her ass, giving her inspiration for her songwriting that later fueled her career as a country artist. Grammys and CMAs already in abundance, what stood out most about Candi was her steadfast devotion to her family back in Jersey, and the cherished friends she made in Nashville during the past few years.

Unlike many of the folks Fiona does readings for and has associated with in the music industry over the years, Candi was completely genuine. It seems ironic that she grew up in an area where people are supposed to be a little cold and unapproachable. Not her. She was an open book and reminded me of folks born and raised in rural Tennessee and Kentucky. Country fit her, like Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton, and people like that.

It’s why I never understood why she changed her name to Candi Starr. Sounds like a pole stripper down at
Déjà Vu
. Fiona told me a while back that her first manager made her change it. He said it’d help her rise above the competition.

Her talent alone did that.

“Do you believe in God?”

Justin asked me this after we’d all paid our final respects to our three departed friends and exited the main sanctuary. Johnny was scheduled to be buried in Mississippi this Tuesday, while Candi and Brenda would be buried on the east coast later this week.

“That’s a strange question to be asking in a place like this.”

Yeah, I know it isn’t, and Justin snickered at my response.