Fatal Storm (12 page)

“Why hospitals?” Kara asked behind her
hankie.

“Our medical examiner found an old head wound
so it’s possible he had amnesia after being assaulted,” Wozniak
replied while Padre’s eyes flicked toward the ceiling as though
praying for John’s lying soul. “He may have been in a
hospital.”

“But wouldn’t the hospital have put his photo
in the paper or sent it out to the police departments?” Lee Atwater
was going to make Padre and Wozniak dance a jig before the day was
over.

“It may not have been a hospital in this
state. And there’s a possibility it was a kidnapping and after
several months he got away but still didn’t know who he was.”

Padre decided John was pretty good at dancing
a jig, and a polka and any two step or side step.

This only made Kara cry harder. “We’ll never
know what horrors he had to go through.”

Wozniak led them away from the morgue. “We’ll
keep you apprised of anything we discover concerning the case. You
have my word on it.”

“What about his watch?” Kara sniffed. “I gave
it to him on our first anniversary.”

The chief shook his head with genuine
remorse. “Sorry. The thief must have taken that, too.”

Padre again sought forgiveness from the man
upstairs.

The distinction between the past, present
and future

is only a stubbornly persistent illusion

Albert Einstein

(1879-1955)

Dagger stopped the Lincoln Navigator about
fifty yards in from the street. He and Sara both slowly climbed out
and, leaving the doors open, just stood and gawked at the massive
structure one hundred yards in front of them.

“Wow,” was all Sara could say. The building
looked four stories high, not two as Padre had said. The roof of
the veranda rested on six marble columns while the rest of the
structure was dark stone reaching up to castle-like turrets. “It’s
as though the owner didn’t know if he wanted a plantation or gothic
mansion. All that’s missing are the moat and drawbridge.”

“Look at those damn gargoyles. I should use
them for target practice.” The beasts eyed them suspiciously. It
didn’t help that dark clouds appeared to rest on the gargoyles’
shoulders. “Kids are usually warned against trick or treating at
houses that looked like this.” He glanced over the hood of the
Navigator at his partner. Sara’s eyes looked like a kid’s on
Christmas morning. But there was something else that was happening.
As she turned her head he could see that Sara had called on the
vision of the hawk and was carefully scrutinizing the house. A
hawk’s vision was eight times the acuity of a human’s. Exactly what
she was looking for he didn’t know. “Any ghosts peering from behind
a curtain?”

“Shhhh. I’m also trying to listen.” Sara
could block out all superficial sounds and focus her attention on
one area. In this case, she was listening for sounds from inside
the house. There were creaks and groans, typical house sounds of
aging wood. “You did notice the road we turned in from was Fenton
Road, the street where Rick Jensen’s car was found.”

“Yep. All roads lead back to the haunted
mansion.” They had almost missed the turn since tall hedges
appeared to guard the property and a tangle of overgrowth
discouraged any curiosity seekers from getting too close. Although
the driveway they had traveled was asphalt, grass and weeds had
found a way to break through over the years in an attempt cover its
existence. Nature was even attempting to hide the mansion itself as
thick ivy had clawed its way up the face of the stone
structure.

They climbed back into the Navigator and
drove the short distance to the turn around. Dagger parked and they
climbed out. A figure on the veranda walked down the stone steps to
greet them.

“Sergeant Jackson, Indiana State Police.
Chief Wozniak told me you would be coming.” Dagger introduced
himself and Sara. Jackson had an appreciative smile for Sara. “Need
a hand?”

“I can handle it,” Dagger snarled.

“Sure,” Sara countered with a smile as she
opened the trunk of the Navigator. “We have a friend coming shortly
who will need a hand with electronic equipment. Are you spending
the night?”

Jackson held up his hands. “No thanks. I
think I’ve had my fill of this place. Why do you think I’m staying
outside? It’s really creepy being in there alone.” He grabbed the
cooler and headed up the stairs.

Dagger took a few seconds to ponder Simon’s
warnings. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t jealous of anyone who
looked at Sara. His problem was that his last injury proved he
wasn’t invincible. It had taken a toll on him, not so much the
threat to his life but where the threat was coming from...BettaTec.
This was a threat he felt completely powerless against. His fingers
touched the cord necklace. All he had to do was rip it off of his
neck and let BettaTec satellites discover him and zap him into
oblivion. Then it would be all over. No more waiting and
wondering.

“Hey.” Sara touched his fingers. Looking into
her eyes, seeing the complete confidence she had in the necklace
always made him shove those feeling into the deep recesses of his
brain. “Come on, lazy. You can only play injured for so long.” Her
left hand settled on his side where he had been shot. It was more
of a caress then a touch. What was it Simon had said?

Just as they started to empty the Navigator,
a Humvee rumbled up the drive and parked behind them. The skies
overhead were beginning to darken as clouds gathered on the
horizon.

“Holy sheeiiit.” Skizzy peeled off his
mirrored sunglasses and stared up at the massive structure. “Are we
gonna have fun tonight.” He looked ready for a war in camouflage
cargo pants, ribbed undershirt, and a camouflage quilted shirt.
Skizzy took a step back when he saw Jackson. “You didn’t say there
would be cops here.”

“I’m not staying,” Jackson announced. “As
soon as Sergeant Martinez gets here, I’m leaving.”

“Padre?” Skizzy’s head swiveled toward
Dagger. “You didn’t say Padre would be here.”

“Need someone to arrest the ghosts when they
show up.” Dagger grabbed one of the metal cases from the back of
the Humvee.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good.” Skizzy pulled an
AK-47 from the back. “This here’s my ghost buster special.”

“Whoa.” Jackson made a one-eighty turn. “I
didn’t just see that.”

“Can we hurry up and get inside? I want to
tour the house.” Sara hefted a grocery bag in her arms, ignoring
the weapon in Skizzy’s hand.

“Jeez, Skizzy,” Dagger whispered. “I don’t
think a bullet is going to stop a ghost.”

“Don’t mean the ghost hunters won’t pull a
fast one. Gotta be prepared.”

“Shit.” Dagger shook his head and as he
passed Jackson said, “Be glad you’re leaving.”

Skizzy chatted incessantly as they crossed
the entryway into the foyer. Then everyone stopped. Even Skizzy was
stunned into silence. Having seen the house before, Jackson
continued into the library. But the rest stood gaping at the
sweeping staircase, their heads slowly craning to view the open
floor which stretched to the domed ceiling. The scent of aged wood,
dust and a moldy odor of a home closed up for too long assaulted
them.

“That’s one helluva turn-of-the-century
skylight.” A shiver ran through Skizzy’s bony frame.

The staircase was at least fifteen feet wide
with a Persian runner covering most of the stairs. Brass light
sconces lined the walls while ornate cherry wood cabinets and
chairs provided a welcome center.

“It’s beautiful,” Sara gasped. “The entire
house is like something off of a movie set.” She turned a slow
three-sixty as she studied the thick wood moulding along the walls
and the railing on the second floor. “Want to tour the house with
us?” Sara asked Skizzy.

“Later. I’ve got too much to do,” Skizzy
replied. “Besides, you’ve seen one haunted house, you’ve seen them
all.”

Jackson crossed the floor with a stack of
blankets. “I think that’s everything out of the vehicles. All of
your equipment is on the conference table and there are outlets in
the floor under the table. I would suggest you not use any of the
fireplaces. Insurance purposes, according to the attorney.” He
disappeared into the library and returned several seconds later.
“I’ll wait for Padre outside. Once he gets here, I’m going to take
off. You better set out some backup batteries,” Jackson suggested.
“I hear you might need them. And there are more candles in the
kitchen. Good luck to you. I think you’ll need it.”

“Wonder what he meant by that?” Skizzy
mumbled as they watched Jackson walk out. Another chill shook his
body. “Place is like a mausoleum.”

Sara agreed and wrapped her leather jacket
tighter around her body. “It’s a good thing we brought blankets.”
She led the way to the library.

Two walls were covered with bookcases. Large
area rugs dotted the floor, separating clusters of chairs and
couches into intimate groupings. Tall windows covered one wall
where French doors opened out onto the back patio.

Skizzy said, “Room looks like the lobby at
the Hilton Hotel.”

“When were you at the Hilton?” Dagger hoped
Skizzy wasn’t going to cop to bugging the hotel.

“I get around.”

Sara pulled on Dagger’s sleeve. “Come on.
Let’s check the place out before Padre and the rest get here.”

They started on the first floor, making
their way down a lengthy hallway. Even years of dust hadn’t dulled
the wood floors or chair rails. There was marble in the foyer and
entryway, even some on the tabletops. Cobwebs and dead insect
carcasses crowding in corners were the only things that marred the
elegance. They stepped into an open room sectioned off from the
hallway by marble pillars. There was a brass plate on one of the
pillars which said,
The
Gathering
.

Sara ran a hand over the plate. “The
Historical Society must have added the signs when the house was
open for tours.”

“Fancy name for a living room.”

“Look at this place, Dagger.” Sara crossed
the room, stepping on thick Persian rugs and dodging upholstered
chairs. A marble counter in a semi-circle was in one corner of the
room. “Must have been a bar. There’s a sink and an opening for a
small refrigerator.”

A wall of windows looked out onto what might
have once been a garden. Dagger waved a hand in front of the glass.
“Place is pretty well built. Can’t even feel a draft.” The yard
outside the windows was overgrown with brush and dead stalks. A
fountain filled with stagnant water listed at the center of a crowd
of bushes long past a trim.

They made their way further down the
hall to a more intimate enclosure. The sign outside the entrance
said
Tranquility
. There were
window seats lining a bay window. An octagon-shaped table was near
one wall by a fireplace.

“Another fancy name for what? A
leave me in peace
room?” Dagger
walked over and started pressing on the paneled wall.

“Think there’s some secret opening?”

“One never knows.” Dagger checked the inside
of the fireplace, pushing on the back bricks. He brushed the soot
from his hands and looked up at the ceiling. It was at least twenty
feet high without a trap door in sight. He shoved the sleeves up on
his gray sweater. The collar of a black and gray shirt peeked out
from the sweater’s crew neck.

“Come on. Let’s check out the second floor
before it gets too dark. It’s supposed to have twelve bedrooms, six
bathrooms, a nursery, study.”

They made their way back to the foyer and
climbed the sweeping staircase. “Would you like to live in a house
this big?” Dagger asked.

“No way. It’s too big. But it’s history.
That’s the appeal. This was the first house to have all the modern
conveniences years before a normal John Q. Public could afford
them. According to Padre this ghost hunter group is supposed to
have all the background on everyone who had lived here over the
years. That should make for some interesting reading.”

“Provided they didn’t make it all up.”

Sara sighed deeply. “Have you always been
this cynical?”

“Everyone has an angle. Just remember that,
Sara.”

“Wow.” Stretched in front of them was a long
corridor which ended in a wall of windows. To the left and right of
them were hallways leading to rooms. Skizzy was right. The place
did look like a five star hotel. Sara rushed to the end of the
corridor. The curved windows gave a view of what might have been a
lush green yard and manicured hedges in its day. To the right was
the view of a large terrace off of one of the rooms. An identical
terrace was off one of the rooms on her left.

“I want to see the terrace.” Sara ran back
toward the staircase and down one of the hallways to the first
room. All of the doors on the second floor were open. She hurried
through a room wallpapered in a rose design which matched the
upholstered chairs. It appeared to be a sitting room of some type,
maybe a study. She turned the door knobs on the French doors and
stepped out onto the terrace.

Dirt, leaves, and branches littered the tiled
floor. If there had been any tables or chairs at one time, they had
been removed. Sara walked to the edge of the terrace and looked
over the concrete railing.

Dagger slowly made his way next to her and
leaned his arms on the barrier. “I don’t know. The Tyler mansion
puts this one to shame.”

“The Tyler mansion is just newer and cleaner.
If anyone ever put any time or money into this place, I think it
would really be something.”

Dagger turned and looked up at the turrets.
“Damn, those gargoyles are ugly.”