In the Dead of Night (52 page)

My immediate assignment?

I was privileged to investigate the grounds by myself, including the new building near the graveyard. Frank would help as far as unlocking the front door to the clubhouse, and then I’d be on my own. It was one of the times when I really wished the rest of the gang could be here with us. But after Pauline’s murder, Ed had extracted a promise from Fiona, Jackie, and Tom to not do any more investigations until Saturday’s new finale for our Civil War tour. It would be the last time we would have a police escort, and beyond that event we were all on our own. On our own and on supposed lockdown, I should say.

So, why are we here again?

Because of my wife’s promise to Susan to come a-runnin’ whenever something terrible, paranormally speaking, ever happened again. Yes, this is the second time something menacing on the property has presented a serious threat…. So here we are—against Ed’s orders and without his knowledge and definitely without his permission. Maybe if she had told him, and for some crazy reason he didn’t stop us with some bullshit legality, we might’ve been able to enlist the presence of Adams’ finest. That thought brought a brighter smile to my face, as I pictured Barney Fife showing up wearing an arm patch with a little witch riding a broomstick on his jacket’s shoulder.

I’m sure everyone must be wondering why the McGrath’s don’t just hole up in their Green Hills pad until we can bring the entire ghost busting army with us to eradicate the infestation of several shadow spirits. Yeah, I asked that very question myself earlier this week, and again this morning. The answer I got was in effect, ‘You don’t have to come if you don’t want to do this,’ which assuredly meant that Fiona planned to come here regardless. Damned straight I could never let her do it alone.

“Well, Susan and I will get started in the dining room,” Fiona advised me, while pulling out her preferred tarot deck. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, hon’?”

Now she asked me this. What could I say, when Frank and Susan wore matching hopeful expressions upon their faces? And seeing the dark circles under Susan’s eyes that made her normally bright hazel eyes look dull added confirmation to the seriousness of what they were dealing with. Better for someone like me, who’s used to this sort of thing, to handle it.

To infinity and beyond. Yay.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” I said. “I might as well start at the clubhouse and work my way back to the main house.”

Frank joined me as we crossed the driveway and moved away from the main house floodlights’ reach. For a moment, we walked in thick darkness that was unnerving as hell. Even my host turned tentative, looking around him as if expecting a shadow man to jump out in front of us and say ‘boo!’ Granted, that would certainly freak my ass out pretty badly, since the only warning we would have in the darkness is the deep chill announcing the spirit’s presence.

The security lights atop the clubhouse suddenly came on, and despite their automatic response to our approach, both of us jumped. Maybe we were scaring ourselves…maybe not. All I knew was the frigid temperatures in the low 20s that night had taken a sudden dip toward zero. That could be natural, since the building’s nonuse and the approaching woods would logically be colder than the perimeter of the house. However, while Frank unlocked the door, I thought I caught a glimpse of movement inside, where other security lights inside the clubhouse had turned on as soon as we stepped onto the porch.

Frank saw it, too.

“Jim…Fiona’s probably going to be irritated with me, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to venture inside alone,” he said, eyeing me solemnly. I thought for a moment he might suggest we give up the damned exploration and just go back to the house. Part of me really liked that idea a lot. “I’d rather not discuss what has happened to me inside here, but it was bad enough the last time for me to not feel comfortable leaving you here on your own. I’ll come inside with you, and I’ll wait by the door for you to finish.”

The way he said this was nothing like the ashen color on his face. This place scared the holy shit out of Frank, and my gut told me that it was a really stupid and bad idea to be here. But, facing the wrath of a ghost would be small potatoes to disappointing my wife who I could tell wanted desperately to help this older couple, our friends. Getting a ‘feel’ and some evidence was a necessary first step, unfortunately, and it would be up to either Fiona or me to get that info. If it meant waiting for her to do it, we would be getting back to Nashville much later tonight, which would engender more problems like a pissed-off sitter for our boys, less sleep, and a steady descent into more horseshit.

“Okay, Frank. It should take me maybe ten to fifteen minutes to have a look around.” I forced a wide smile to sell my confidence, while praying fervently for the prickly feeling along my neck to go away. “Fiona said you have a loft in the back of the building, so I’ll start there and work my way back to you.”

“Sounds good, Jim. Be safe.”

Two men forcing smiles that were too damned transparent to convince each other of anything other than the fact that this building was creepy as hell. I had no doubt in my mind that he regretted disturbing anything on this spot…his frightened eyes said so.

Knowing it would only get worse, I turned around and moved across the vast open space designed to accommodate large parties as I headed for the rear of the building, struggling with the urge to hurry to the wall next to an immense fireplace and flip on the overhead lights. I resisted…barely, while soft creaks resounded from the ceiling just beyond the kitchen area. There was someone moving upstairs in the darkened loft, or so it sounded.

“Moving to the kitchen, and then I’ll approach the loft,” I said into the voice recorder, all the while feeling a frigid breeze caress the back of my neck. I had no doubt that someone was there with me, and my only comfort was in the fact that most entities are not overtly violent to short-term visitors. They usually save their greatest ire for the folks who are permanent tenants. “I am only here gathering evidence, to help the owners make things right. If anyone wants to say something into the recorder that can be useful, please feel free to do so—”

Click.

Oh shit!

The recorder shut off. At the same time, I heard a low moan coming from the stairs that were barely visible from a security lamp’s glow in the kitchen. The last ten feet to the stairs leading upstairs were shrouded in thick darkness.

I think I’ve mentioned before that in regard to some of the creepiest investigations we’ve had we end up getting very little paranormal evidence. Lots of normal-looking photographs, empty recordings, and non-eventful video clips. As I approached the kitchen area, I had been taking random pictures with my preferred analog beast that Justin likes to make fun of, but negatives are necessary to prove that an image hasn’t been tampered with. As soon as I heard a low moan emanating from the darkness, I bravely pointed my camera directly at the spot and snapped a photo…or so I had hoped.

My camera jammed, and like the recorder moments before, it no longer worked. The green battery light faded to orange before my eyes.

What in the…

The kitchen’s security lamp suddenly popped, and a swishing sound approached me in the sudden darkness. The best way I can describe it is as if someone had tossed several handfuls of paper sheets into the air and then they drifted to the ground.

“Jim, did you hear that?” Frank sounded stressed. “We need to leave…they’re moving around behind you. We’ve got to get out before they…
Oh shit
—Jim I’ll meet you outside!”

I heard Frank give a startled shout as he stumbled on the porch and then the front door slammed behind me.

I might be a seasoned ghost hunter, and sometimes you can wait it out when weird shit happens. But, I also have the good sense to know when it truly is time to go. Even before I heard several padded footfalls upon the wooden floor as at least two different individuals approached me from both sides of the clubhouse’s dim expanse, I was already running. Running with the intent of breaking through the door or a window if necessary.

Thankfully, Frank managed to reopen the door as I reached it. Without bothering to retrieve his key from the lock, he and I sprinted for the house. The painful prickles from the chills embracing my back didn’t stop until we had climbed back onto the house’s steps and clambered into the foyer. Instinctively, I closed and locked the door behind us, not caring how absurd it was to even bother, since physical doors and walls provide little protection against the dearly departed.

“What in the hell? Jimmy, Frank…are you okay?”

“Does it look like it?”

I hated sounding like a jerk, but I was more than a tad miffed at my better half. It was my first confirmation that her gifts that normally protect us from harm were out of sync with the dangerous spirit world around us. Someone on the other side should’ve sounded the alarm for her long before our arrival.

“Oh, no…. I see them,” she whispered in terror, reaching for Susan who had begun to whimper at the sight of her husband in tears. Fiona wrapped her arms around her. “We’ve got to go…if we leave now—all of us, we should be okay. You’ll have to trust me…I’m so sorry Susan. The thing that the cards told us about? ‘Soon’ is now…it’s happening faster than I anticipated.”

What the…?

Yeah, this mumbo-jumbo made no sense to me and certainly not to Frank, whose eyes were glued to the large window looking out onto the wraparound porch. I followed his gaze, but detected nothing under the security light’s glow. But the temperature inside the house was dropping rapidly.

“Okay, I’ll help you both pack, and then we’ve got to get you to your place in Green Hills. Or, you can stay with us if you’d like,” I said, to which Fiona nodded. “Let’s get going.”

The crystal chandelier above the living room table suddenly flickered. Impossible to know if this was a ghost confirming the brilliant idea to leave or to announce the impending invasion from what waited outside. Either way, we wouldn’t have long to aid our beleaguered friends in their escape from a dangerous situation.

***
 

“You had no idea about how bad this was, did you?”

It wasn’t the first question I posed to Fiona once the McGrath’s had loaded their sports car and we were following them along the road that would take us to I-24 heading back toward Nashville. But it certainly was the first one I wanted to ask once we were in the Camaro and I had started the engine. Yep, my turn to drive since I was a bit ticked off about what had just gone down.

“No…no I didn’t,” she admitted. “Sometimes, things are not as clear as others. I knew it was bad…just not that it was this dangerous. My guides never mentioned anything about the burial mound just beyond the other graveyard. And, according to Susan she knew nothing about it until tonight, when a Native American spirit broke through my guides’ protection.”

“Are you okay?”

I’ve been present when a spirit has attacked my wife before. Long ago, after we first were married, she woke up choking and gasping for air. Admittedly, at the time I didn’t know what to think of her claim that a dark spirit had tried to strangle her in her sleep. It sounded totally crazy to me. But after what I’ve personally seen over the past five years, it’s quite plausible. Especially given the fact I’ve had a few close calls myself, like the ones detailed in
Deadly Night
.

I take Fiona totally seriously. Although, I think her guides have been sleeping on the job as of late. Yes, I realize this puts a whole new light on what’s been going on around us. I had assumed, foolishly so, that her guides would keep us protected from an unexpected attack from the killers knocking off our ghost hunter friends. A new chill embraced me, sending another wave of shivers along my spine.

“Well?”

“Yes…I think so,” she said.

“Well, what did this other spirit want?”

“For Susan and Frank to tear down the clubhouse, Gazebo and restore holiness to the remains that are buried beneath those structures.”

Fiona sounded as if she was going to cry again as she said this.

“Are you serious? And, they had no idea those woods were covering a burial site from long ago?”

“Yes…Susan had no idea, but Frank did know,” she said sadly. “The spirit says it watched him pay off the workers to not say anything, and then they leveled the graves and carried off the bones to be burned with the lumber waste.”

“Oh my God….”

Now I was the one sounding sad. I couldn’t picture Frank doing something like this, and yet it made sense in light of the terror he felt when we were at the clubhouse. It was as if he knew this was his fault, and the heightened antagonism that shortened our visit was likely inspired by his presence.

The worst thing about this kind of haunting is the aspect of physical violence. I’ve mentioned before that almost every violent haunting in North America has a connection to a violated Native American burial ground—even if it is a mound that was already deteriorating. Local legends state that the Bell Witch had her origination in such a mound, where the youngest kids came home to their cabin one day with finger bones recovered from a mound. The bones fell through cracks in the wooden floorboards, and the haunting ensued soon after. It began with knocks, creaks, and furniture moving, but soon escalated into physical violence against Elizabeth Bell and her father, John.