The Siege (8 page)

“So the house isn’t haunted anymore?” Rosemary asked.

“Not by poltergeists,” Mia confirmed.

Douglas picked up on Mia’s evasion and asked, “Is it haunted by something else?”

“In my opinion, it is haunted by good memories, love and trust.”

~

Mike waited until the Dawsons left the room with Carlotta before he said, “I like what you told the Dawsons.”

Mia lifted an eyebrow.

“The part about their house being haunted by good memories, love and trust,” he reminded her.

“I guess I was envious.  Trust is a hard thing to find.  I hope they keep CC on.  Some people would walk away from that kind of devotion without looking back.”

“But I don’t get that from Douglas and Rosemary.  They’re special people.”

“I don’t know them as well as you, so I’ll take your word for it.”

Alan shuffled his papers and slid them into his briefcase.  “I hate to speak Italian and run, but I’ve got a deposition in an hour, and the traffic into town is unpredictable.”

Mike shook his hand.  “Send us a bill.  It’s good seeing you.  Don’t be a stranger.”

Mia walked over and hugged Alan.

He looked down at her and said, “You take good care of yourself.”

“I will,” she said.

Ted cleared his throat.

“Ted will be there to make sure I do,” she amended.

Alan laughed.

After he left, Ted leaned in and said, “Jake, no doubt, is driving Burt nuts.  I think we have some housework of our own to attend to.”

The three walked over to the command post.  Burt stood there watching them; his face was devoid of emotion.

“Is this good Burt or bad Burt?” Mia whispered.

Ted climbed in and started to back up the digital camera feed.  He disengaged Jake and suggested, “Burt, why don’t you go home, and I’ll clean up.  I think we need to have a PEEPs meeting soon.”

“Jake showed me the feed from yesterday,” he said quietly.  “That’s not me there.  I mean it’s me but not me.”

“Come on, buddy,” Mike said from behind Mia. “I’ll take you home.  Mia, can you drive Burt’s car to his place?”

“I’ve never met a vehicle I couldn’t drive,” Mia said.

“Okay then, let’s button this one up and collect the check,” Mike said.  “Burt, are you up for this final meeting?”

“I guess.  If I go off topic, stamp on my foot.”

“Hell, I’ll punch you in the jaw, just like I did Dave.”

“You punched Dave?” Mia asked stunned.

“The little shit deserved it.  He kept picking on Cid.”

“Cid can take care of himself,” she stated.

“That’s what I was worried about so I got between the two, and that’s when the little snot called me
old man.
I just tapped him on the jaw to remind him that old men were dangerous.  Lesson learned,” Mike said.  “Come on, Burt, we have people waiting.”

Mia let them leave.  She knew Dave was a challenge, but she didn’t think that punching him was necessarily the right approach.  She would talk to the kid and see if she could help him round off some sharp edges when she got back home.

Ted finished packing up the camera and other devices they had used.  He dropped down beside Mia and took her hands.  “I know Burt hurt you, but I think there’s something wrong with him.  If it’s not possession, it’s a personality disorder.  Remember, he barely survived the attack at the hollow…”

“When are we going to stop making excuses for him?  You and I have certainly taken it on the chin enough times.  Speaking of, did you know Mike punched Dave last night?”

“Cid mentioned something this morning on the phone.  You were talking to Alan at the time so I didn’t have a chance to tell you about it.”

“Is he alright?”

“Cid says he came around right away…”

“He was knocked out?”

“Glass jaw, I believe.  That’s it.  I’ve been searching for a nickname for Dave - I have it now, Glass Jaw.”

“Do you think it’s wise to remind him of Mike’s brutality?”

“Yes.  I think the kid has to learn to censor himself.  What if he mouths off to someone dangerous.  Like you for instance.”

Mia laughed.

“You’d kill him.  Take out your rock salt and pepper his behind.”

“Nah, I believe in the power of citrus to make my point.”

“Not the…”

“Yes, the grapefruit,” Mia said deadpan.

~

Dave walked up the hill looking for Murphy.  The sky was cloudy, and although it looked like it would soon dump a lot of snow on them, the forecast was only for flurries.  Still, it was cold.  Dave pulled his Elmer Fudd cap down over his ears.  He wished he had chosen to wear the hiking boots Ted had given him instead of the Converse that did nothing but ask the cold wind to freeze his toes.  “Come on, I know you’re up here somewhere,” he complained.

Maggie barked on the other side of the hill.

“That’s got to be where the bastard is hiding out,” Dave said aloud.

“Bastard?” Murphy asked from behind him.  “Who are you calling a bastard?”

“You, I ain’t met your ma. As far as I know, she wasn’t married,” Dave sassed.

“Disrespectful little man, you better watch out who you are insulting,” Murphy growled at him.

“Hey, I’m just being friendly.  This is how my friends and I talk to each other.  They know I don’t mean it as much as they mean their insults.  Get used to it. It’s how I roll.”

“You’re going to be pretty unpopular here.”

“I’m leaving as soon as Mia gets back.  I’m not cut out for this crap.  I almost got tossed out a window.  If it wasn’t for you and Ted, I’d be dead.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I don’t remember thanking you,” Dave sniped.

Murphy looked at the kid and saw a bit of Mia in him, the bit that was brought out by constant ridicule by your peer group.  He chose, instead of walking away and leaving the sensitive to stew on his own, to ignore the obnoxiousness and try to root out what was bothering the kid.  “You were looking for me,” he led.

“Oh yeah, Ted called, and they wrapped the investigation.  He wanted to know if you were up for cutting some evergreens to make some garlands for the front of the farmhouse.  Cid’s gone out for some outdoor lights.  I mean, I think it’s a waste; no one drives by to see the house.  Why bother?”

“Mia will see it. That’s why.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You make your house nice for the people inside of it, not to show off to the neighbors.  Christmas is about families, and we’re Mia’s family.  You too, if you stay.”

“My ma is going to her sister’s in Florida for Christmas week.  I was going to have the house to myself, invite Richie over and marathon a few video games.”

“Give Richie my best,” Murphy said formally.

“You’re a wicked dude, Murphy.”

Murphy didn’t understand how being courteous was being wicked, but he left the jargon of his youth nearly a century and a half ago.  Catching up to this era’s slang was too much trouble.  Plus, it kept changing.  Bad was good, now it’s bad again.  Fat is good, but calling someone fat is bad.  Brilliant meant smart
and
lame, depending on your tone.  He decided it was best just to keep his mouth shut.  Actions spoke louder than words, and his axe spoke loudest of all.

Murphy turned to leave.

Dave didn’t want to go back to the house and hang around Saint Cid, but he was lonely.  “You want some help?”

Murphy turned around and looked at the boy.  “Boots, gloves, twine and sled.”

“Sled? There’s no snow on the ground,” Dave pointed out.

Murphy looked at the sky and said, “There will be, now get.”

Dave took off running down the hill.

Maggie walked up to Murphy and looked from him to Dave and back again.

“He needs a firm hand, girl.  He’s a bastard.”

~

Cid watched Dave’s progression up the hillside carrying the sled.  He’d insisted the boy take his backpack which Cid filled with twine, shears and a thermos of hot coffee.  When Dave asked why, he said, “Murphy doesn’t feel the cold or get fatigued.  This will help you keep up with him.”  Dave seemed to accept this.  He didn’t thank Cid; that wouldn’t have occurred to him.

Cid was of a split mind when it came to Dave.  Sure, the kid was smart and had a lot of raw potential, but he was far from likable.  Burt had wanted a substitute for Mia, and she and Ted wanted to have a chance to try and save the kid, so they invited the former stoner into their lives.  He hoped that all concerned didn’t rue the day.

“So lost…”

Cid turned around. He thought he heard someone speaking in the barn.  He walked out of his apartment and stopped on the top landing to listen.

“So lost, so lost...”

The words were barely perceptible.  Cid’s overdeveloped hearing skills, from years of near blindness, picked up the words.  He moved quickly down the stairs and grabbed the parabolic dish and started the recorder.

“They came for me, but I was not there, so lost…”

Cid held onto the dish and followed it to where the sound was the loudest.  He stopped and put on the spectrum glasses he still carried in his pocket.  They hadn’t illuminated the poltergeists, but he found that it made seeing Murphy a bit easier.  He looked around him and saw a thick column of mist.  It seemed to generate from a crack in the floor.

He watched the mist waver, and then it dissipated.  He stooped down and touched the crack in the floor.  It didn’t feel any different than the cement around it.  He put his ear to it, but there was nothing to hear.

Cid got up and put away the parabolic dish, taking the recorder with him into the office.  He loaded the recording into Ted’s new program to take out the extra sound of the heating system and other electrical noise.  Once he felt he had cleared enough of the noise away, he played it again.

“Lost, so lost.  Who wakes me from my nothing?  Who walks upon my grave?  Who ignores me when I call?  Who are you, and who am I?  I’m lost, so lost…”

Mia stood inside the door listening.  She heard the recording on her way from the truck to the house and had come in quietly, worried that the spirit had gained momentum while she was gone.  She looked over at Cid who had his back to her with headphones on.  She cleared her voice.

Cid jumped in his chair.

“Sorry, I was trying to prevent that but…”

Cid put his hand on his heart.  “I think I’ve had a heart attack.”

Mia rushed over.  “Sorry, so sorry,” she said again.  “I just heard the voice and thought I’d sneak up on it.”

“You’ve heard this before?”

“I think it’s a he, and he visited me in the barn late last night when I was raiding your breadbox,” she explained.  “I take it he’s come back.”

“I heard a voice, you know me, big ears, and I followed it.  I grabbed the dish and got this recording of it before it disappeared.”

“How much did it manifest?”

“Just a column of mist, and it had a hard time holding that together.”

“Did Murphy see it?”

“No, he’s out in the woods cutting evergreens with Dave.”

Mia leaned back on her heels, surprised.  “Dave’s working?”

“He’s with Murphy, that’s all I know.  Tell me about what you heard and saw.”

Mia repeated the incident for Cid.  “His face lacked eyes and mouth.  Kind of looked like that costume from Scary Movie.  He was so distraught.  Not much energy.”

“It came through a crack in the floor.  Do you think it’s buried under there?” Cid asked.

“That used to be a part of the barn, but the developers filled it in when they converted it into a garage for April.  I don’t remember there being a crack in the floor,” Mia said honestly.  “I think Murphy would know something about a body.  He’s been roaming here for a very long time.  I suspect it’s coming from the woods south of us.  Perhaps moving through the ground is easier for it,” she suggested.  “Can I hear it one more time?”

“Sure.”

Cid replayed the recording.  Mia, who had sat down, began drawing.  When the recording finished, she handed the paper to Cid explaining, “This is the image I saw.  It’s also the image that I’m picking up as I hear the voice.  I don’t know if you know much about manifestation?”

“Just what Murphy has explained.”

“He’s the best source we have,” Mia said thoughtfully.  “My father has come across many skeletal remains in his line of work.  I used to go with him in the summertime.  To keep sane, I learned not to pay attention to these manifestations.  I was too young to understand, too young to help them.  I did learn something though.  When a ghost can’t bring about a full image of his or her face, it means that they can’t remember it.  It can also mean that no one visited their graves and thought of them.  You see, it’s the minds of the loved ones that project the image to the entities usually.  This soul, according to his own words, was lost when he died.  He most likely died of exposure or drowned in a bog.  Even murdered, I don’t know.  All I know is, something has disturbed the ground in which this soul rested.  All we have to do is find the disruption, and we’ll find the bones.”

“What happens when we find the bones?” Cid asked.

“I really don’t know.  We’ll have to make it up as we go along,” Mia said and winked at him.

“I’ll clean this up some more and present it to the group.”

“What group?” Mia asked.

“PEEPs.”

“I take it, you’re taking back your resignation.”

“I can’t quit when something out there needs my help,” Cid said.

Mia smiled wide and full.  “That’s something you and I have in common, besides our good looks, big brains and adoration for one Theodore Martin.”

Cid laughed and added, “And he for us.”

“Damn straight.”

Chapter Six

“Yes, I know I’m not on the maternity floor.  And I’m telling you for the last time, I’m not in labor!”

Audrey heard the raised voice coming from the hall and almost peed herself laughing.  A very irate Mia entered her room.  She was dressed in a bump-hugging, charcoal cashmere dress. Audrey was certain this costly present was from Mia’s over-indulgent godfather Ralph.  The long, dark, penguin print socks that made up the distance between her hemline and boot tops had to be Mia’s doing.