Dead Sure?: A Paranormal Mystery (5 page)

Chapter 6 Wednesday July 18
th
, 2007

A Strange Find

The Horner Bank Building was big for its time, residing on a prime piece of real estate in downtown St. Paul. It was an eight-story art deco style beauty, built in the early 1900’s. The main floor was a bank, with office space located on the upper floors. The exterior displayed beautiful stone work with ornate carvings.

“So what’s wrong with it?” asked Sam, turning away from the building to meet his new project manager.

Before Jack could answer the question, a wide grin came to his face. Jack had only met a few of his new colleagues since he arrived in town, but he didn’t need anyone to introduce him to Sam. Sam had been one of his best friends growing up and all throughout high school. Jack momentarily started to wonder how the time had slipped away. Sam’s face answered back with a similar wide grin, bringing Jack back into the moment.

“Jack, it’s great to see you again. What’s it been, about ten years? Never mind that, so you’re the new guy. I heard rumors they hired some hotshot, but I guess that’s not true,” he said laughingly, slapping Jack on the shoulder.

“In answer to your question about the building, nothing is wrong with it. Mr. Yates wants to build bigger and better, and this corner is prime real estate,” replied Jack. “And as to the hotshot rumors, we’ll see.”

“It seems like a shame; it’s still a solid building. But, I do enjoy blowing things up,” Sam chuckled.

*    *    *

Across the street the Historic Landmark Preservation Society was protesting against the demolition of the old bank building. There was a gathering of about ten protestors with signs that read “Save the Bank building”, “Bank on keeping it”, “History is important”, and so on. The group didn’t appear to be drawing too much attention. Pedestrians were on their way to and from work and in too much of a hurry to give them much notice. The general lack of interest was really pissing off Liam Wilhelm. Liam was the director of the HLPS. He had been working diligently to prevent the destruction of the bank building, and yet after all his efforts here they were, just a mere hour or so away from its destruction. Liam glared across the street at the demolition team.
What a bunch of assholes
, he thought.
Anybody can destroy something, but it takes real talent to create something.
If looks could kill, Liam’s might have been bordering on deadly. However, despite his height and stocky build, Liam dressed like the ultimate nerd. Today, of course, was no exception. He was wearing dress pants that were just slightly too short, and a light brown short sleeve dress shirt. The shirt pocket had several pens crammed into it, and what look wouldn’t be complete without black plastic-rim glasses straight from the previous decade’s style.

*    *    *

With a hardy slap on their backs, Ron Beckman joined his demolition team. Ron was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Get the job done and don’t listen to or take any excuses. Ron glanced at his watch, seven-forty-five am.

“Well, gentlemen, let’s get this party started. I want you to complete the final walkthrough by nine am, set the explosives by ten-thirty, and blow this thing before lunch,” said Ron in his loud, booming voice. Jack remembered his first phone conversation with Ron.  On the phone, Ron had a completely different presence, about him. In person, Ron’s voice was deep and carried a lot of authority with it. He was a big man in his early fifties with graying hair; at least what was left of it.

Jack looked tentatively at Ron, “I think a good walkthrough of this place is going to take us until at least nine-thirty or ten.”

People didn’t usually question Ron, and when they did, it didn’t usually go well.

“Well, I’ll tell you what; you can have until nine-ten,” he replied with a glare.

Jack and Sam grabbed their tools and some flashlights and headed into the building.

“So, that went well,” Jack said with a chuckle as soon as they got out of Ron’s earshot. “I’m always good at making my employers happy.”

“It sure did,” replied Sam. “Ron doesn’t usually give an inch. Let’s get going. We had better finish on time.”

They headed for the stairwell to begin trudging up the eight flights. It was customary to start with the top floor and work your way down to the basement. The electricity had been cut the previous day, so there was no elevator. They hoofed it up the stairs with only the bobbing beams of their flashlights showing the way.  The number painted on the wall just in front of them read “seven”.

“Almost there, this climb is making me hungry,” Sam complained.

“When aren’t you hungry?” snickered Jack. “When we get this done, I’ll treat to lunch over at Mickey’s Pub.  People tell me it’s pretty good.”

“That sounds great, but I was kind of hoping to squeeze a free meal out of Ron today for meeting the schedule. Then, you could buy me a free lunch tomorrow. How’s that for planning ahead?” Sam bragged.

“Yeah, you have always been good at that, Sam.”

They reached the landing for the eighth floor and exited the stairwell into the main hall.

“It sounds more like scamming than planning, but whatever works for ya,” Jack said, and pointed to Sam. “You take all the offices on the right and I’ll take the ones to the left. Remember, let’s keep things moving. We can’t afford to get off schedule, especially if your lunch plan is going to work out.”

Sam just laughed and entered the first room on the right. There were no doors on any of the offices. The ornate wood doors had been sold several weeks earlier at auction. In fact, the building had been stripped down of most of its antique amenities.

It was a pretty easy process. Walk into a room, make sure no animal or person had decided to take occupancy, and move on to the next room. Once in a while you might even find a treasure or two, an old piece of trim work, or an antique fire extinguisher. You just never knew. Sam was finishing up his last office, and so far no treasures.

Humph
, thought Sam. “Hey Jack, where are you?” he yelled heading into the hall.

“Right here,” said Jack emerging from his last office. “Let’s move down to the next floor. We’re making good time.”

The two headed down the stairwell to lucky floor number seven.

“Well, thanks a lot, Sam; now you’ve got my stomach thinking about lunch already.”

Sam gave Jack a strange look. “You may be hungry, but I’m not anymore. I have a really weird feeling about this floor.”

“What kind of weird feeling? This inspection is a piece of cake.”

“Something just doesn’t feel right,” Sam insisted.

“Tell you what, you can choose right or left this time.”

“I’ll go right again,” he replied.
Man, what am I worried about. I need to just focus on getting the job done and finding something cool.
He headed into the first room, not surprisingly; it was pretty much a mirror image of the others.

*    *    *

What the hell am I doing here on my day off from the office? I have so many things that need to get done. If I don’t help save things, who will?  And Liam was so passionate about being able to make a difference,
Rene thought as she stood with the other bank building protestors. She had her sandy blonde hair lightly pulled up and held in place with a bright yellow scrunchy. She was wearing some tight-fitting jeans that accented her flat stomach and cute ass.

“Liam, do you have any last minute ideas to save the place?” asked Rene in a distressed tone.

Liam scowled for a moment. “Let’s get the group to cross the street and confront them.”

“What good do you think that will do?”

“Maybe none, but we might just be in luck. Do you see that news van pulling up over there? They have probably come to tape the implosion. Let’s give them something else to tape!” Liam cleared his throat and raised his voice so the whole group of protestors could hear. “Ladies and gentlemen, the media has just arrived. This may be our last chance to save the Old Horner Bank Building. Now what I would like everyone to do is follow me across the street and we will confront the Yates Construction Group.” 

How this was going to fix anything Liam really couldn’t say, but it was better than standing here and doing nothing. Liam cleared his throat again and tried to appear as confident as possible. “Who’s with me on this?”

There was some mumbling amongst the protestors. One of them questioned, “This isn’t going to get violent or anything, is it?”

Liam chuckled calmly, “No, no, that’s not what our group is about,” even though he felt like slugging somebody--maybe that smug looking foreman over there. “Come on, everyone follow me, it’s now or never!”

Liam started across the busy street. Rene was right beside him, and their confidence moved others. A few drivers honked their horns in support as the group passed by.

The day was heating up; the smell of asphalt being laid a few blocks away was hanging thickly in the air.

*    *    *

Ron unclipped his two way radio from its belt clip. “How are you guys doing in there, is everything moving on schedule?”

Jack heard Ron’s booming voice from the radio and his hand quickly snapped it up. “Yeah, we’re doing great in here; everything is moving along nicely. The eighth floor was clean and we are halfway through the seventh.” 
Boy, this guy is such a hard ass about staying on schedule. He’s going to have a heart attack before he makes fifty. Hah, what am I talking about, he’s already past old!

“Great, keep it that way; Ron out!”

“Ron out,” Jack muttered mockingly to himself.
I wish he was out. Out of my way, just let me do my job, remember I’m the hotshot with the big salary. Although, I wonder what Ron makes? 

Ron intent on getting the job done; didn’t see the band of protestors approaching until they were almost on top of him.

“We demand that you stop this demolition at once!” yelled Liam into his megaphone.

What the hell are they doing? This is just great, as if this day hasn’t been hard enough already. Working with a new project manager is enough aggravation, especially one with an inherent attitude. I don’t need whatever crap this is.

Jack had been reasonably polite so far, but Ron felt Jack was a loaded gun just waiting to go off. And, Ron was not about to put up with any bullshit.
These protestors have picked the wrong guy to mess with on the wrong day.

“March your asses right out of my construction zone and back across the street. Do you understand me!” bellowed Ron.

Before Liam or any of the others could reply, a news reporter and camera man came sprinting up. “This looks like it could be good, Ted,” mumbled the camera man.

“It sure does,” replied Ted with a smirk.

“Hell no, we won’t go!” Liam yelled into his megaphone.

Oh crap, the media, this kind of shit never goes well,
Ron thought before beginning to back pedal.
“Please remove yourselves from the construction zone. This is not a safe area; that’s why the barricades are up,” Ron forced himself to say in a tone bordering on polite.

Sticking his microphone in Liam’s face, the reporter began his spiel, “Sir, my name is Ted Smith. I am with the Channel 5 News. Can you tell me why your group is here and what this conflict is about?”

“My name is Liam Wilhelm with the Historical Landmark Preservation Society. This conflict is abou...”

Ron cut Liam off mid sentence. “There is no conflict, just a job to be done and people that are trying to get in the way. So please take your interview across the street and out of this area.”

Ted, always wanting to go for better ratings, wasn’t going to let this one get away that easily. “Let the man speak.”

“Save the bank building!” chimed in Rene. She could feel her blood beginning to boil.

              Emboldened by Rene’s speaking up, Liam poked Ron hard in the right shoulder.  “I will tell my story when and where I want to!”

The look of an enraged bull came over Ron’s face. Liam shuddered as he saw the expression. Ron grabbed Liam by the collar and took a swing at him.

*    *    *

              Just over halfway down the seventh floor hallway, Sam froze in his tracks.
What the hell is this? There’s still a door on this office.

T.I.M.

Banking and Investment Firm

Sam’s uneasy feelings had resurfaced, only much stronger now.
What kind of strange shit is going on? I’m not liking this at all!
He turned the door knob hesitantly. The locked handle deigning him entrance.
That figures, nothing is ever easy.
He slid a medium-sized pry bar from his tool belt and with a tug he tried to open the door, but it wasn’t budging.
Fine, forget careful! 
And with that, Sam braced one foot against the door frame and gave a mighty pull. There was a loud crack as the wood frame gave and the door swung open into the hall, almost knocking him off his feet.