Fatal Storm (18 page)

“Nnnno. And what business is it of
yours?”

Dagger had enough. He grabbed a fistful of
fabric, pulling Flea up on his toes, and jammed the Kimber against
Flea’s throat. “You have a fourth member lurking around this place,
don’t you?”

“What? No!” Flea struggled but Dagger’s grip
was strong. He pressed the gun harder and weatched the kid’s Adam’s
apple bob. Dagger took several steps, dragging Flea along, then
slammed the sack of skin and bones against the wall.

“Dagger!” Sara wrapped her hands around
Dagger’s arm. “STOP.”

“SILENCE.” Padre had to shout over the noise
of the storm. How like the chief to be safe and sound at home,
probably having his third scotch and water while Padre was stuck in
a haunted house with not one, but now two missing people. “God, my
head is splitting. Everyone calm down. Dagger, put your gun away.
Sara, see if you can get Venus to tell you what the hell happened
here.”

As though her legs could no longer hold her
up, Venus started to buckle, her dress pooling around her. Dagger
caught her before she landed in a heap. She stared off seeing
nothing, not acknowledging anyone. He waved a hand in front of her
face but Venus never flinched.

Sara knelt next to the shaken woman. She
clasped her hand and squeezed. Her other hand brushed hair from
Venus’ face. “Venus, we need your help. We have to find Josh. He
might need medical attention. Do you understand? Can you help
us?”

“Oh my god,” Flea mumbled, rocking back and
forth on his feet, turning in half circles, eyes darting as though
looking for a quick exit.

Slowly, Venus turned her head toward Sara.
Sara smiled with encouragement but the only response were streams
of tears. Her body started to tremble. Sara thought she heard Venus
try to speak. “Can you repeat that, Venus?”

Padre edged closer as did Skizzy. As Venus
spoke her eyes jerked over Sara’s shoulder, beyond the staircase
and back to the area stained with blood. Her left hand reached out
and clutched Dagger’s arm. Sara wasn’t sure she heard Venus
correctly. She looked at Dagger for clarification but then Venus
repeated the words, her voice a shaky whisper.

“The wall took him.”

Sheila had no way of knowing what time of day
it was. There wasn’t one workable clock in the house. It was dark
out, but was it the storm or was it nighttime? She was getting used
to the never-ending downpour. As one dark cloud passed, another
rumbled in bringing with it lightning and winds that whipped
through the property like a tornado.

She crossed the room to the desk and
sat down. Maybe if she wrote a time line things would start to make
sense. She opened the desk drawer to look for paper. There were
several sheets of expensive linen stationery.
Sebold Shipping
was embossed in gold across the
top. Why would Adrian have Sebold stationery? But her thoughts were
interrupted by another object in the drawer...a wallet. Sheila
flipped it open and studied the drivers license. Rick Jensen from
Cedar Point, Indiana. The license expired last year. Sheila sat
back and studied the photo. Where had she seen him before? Where
had she heard the name? She closed the desk drawer, shoved the
wallet in the pocket of her slacks, and went in search of
Colleen.

She grabbed a candle and made her way
upstairs. Sheila found the girl in what looked like a playroom. All
of the drapes were drawn so Colleen couldn’t see the lightning. She
was sitting on the floor surrounded by dolls all dressed in
Victorian clothing. Her entire body looked coiled, tense, as though
waiting for the next clap of thunder. Sheila pulled the wallet from
her pocket and sat on the floor next to the girl.

“Colleen, I found this downstairs. Do you
know where your brother got it?”

“What is it?”

“It’s a wallet with a drivers license which
expired in 2010, Colleen.” But Colleen’s young eyes showed
confusion. How silly to think any of this would mean anything to
her. “Do you remember seeing this man? His name is Rick
Jensen.”

“He came during a storm,” she whispered, her
eyes searching the doorway.

“Do you know what happened to him?”

“He left during a storm.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t understand.” How
could someone from 2011 meet Colleen and her brother? Why not?
Since when has anything made sense? Sheila thought. But Rick Jensen
didn’t factor into her research, unless. Of course! He must have
been a previous news story which was why Sheila was blending
research from the early 1900s with current events. “Forget it. My
brain isn’t making much sense right now. Please don’t mention this
to your brother. I don’t want him to think I was snooping.”

“Okay.” Colleen cradled the doll in her lap
and looked up at Sheila with soulful eyes. She was fearful on one
hand but also sad. Where were other young children for her to play
with? Did she never leave the house? “Can you stay here?” Colleen
asked, whispering as if the walls could hear.

“Sure. But there is a lot more room
downstairs in the study. Besides, the couch is more comfortable to
sit on than the floor.”

“No. I mean can you stay here forever? I
don’t want to be alone.”

Her plea pulled at Sheila’s heartstrings.
“Oh, sweetie.” As though sensing what Sheila would say, tears
started welling in Colleen’s eyes.

Colleen leaned forward and whispered even
lower. “I don’t EVER want to be alone.”

“There is nothing as eerie as complete
silence,” Skizzy said. And he was right. As though someone had
pressed a button, all sounds from the storm had ceased. “I think we
are in the eye of the storm.” They stood at the bottom of the
staircase listening and waiting. They had carried Venus to the
library and placed her on a couch. Flea was curled up in a corner
chair with his flask, his eyes darting from Jewel to dark corners
of the room for unseen villains. Skizzy had grabbed the portable
scanner, but like everything else, the battery was drained.

Sara heard a faint buzzing that sounded as
though it were coming through the walls and floor. A second later
all of the lights snapped on. “Power!” Skizzy cheered. He ran back
into the library and returned with the power cord for his
scanner.

Padre and Dagger moved down the hall and into
the adjacent room. According to the blueprints, this was the tea
room, a place where the owners entertained visitors with tea and
cookies during the day and after dinner drinks in the evening. The
wall between the tea room and the extended foyer were five inches
thick. Padre knocked on the wall while Dagger pulled to see if it
slid open.

Skizzy ran the scanner across the wall. On
the monitor he saw their images. He aimed the scanner as high as
the ceiling and then across the entire wall. They were looking for
any explanation as to where Josh had gone. “What the hell did Venus
mean when she said “the wall took him?”

“Try the floor,” Sara suggested. They avoided
walking on the blood-splattered portion of the floor. The picture
on the monitor showed the usual ghostly image of flooring and
piping. The images from the wall yielded little more.

Dagger and Padre returned. “Anything?” Dagger
asked.

“This isn’t logical.” Padre pulled his cell
phone out. “Still no service. I can’t even get a crime scene crew
out here. There aren’t any blood drops leading out of this foyer so
Josh can’t be roaming the house, not with this much blood
loss.”

Sara walked to the entryway and opened the
front door. She stepped out onto the dark veranda. Even the rain
had stopped but the sky warned that Nature wasn’t done with them
yet. A darker shade of black loomed on the horizon slowly circling
like a cauldron. She heard footsteps behind her as the three men
emerged.

“Look at the driveway,” Padre said. Now that
the power was back on, it appeared that every light in the mansion
was illuminating the surrounding property. What Padre was pointing
at wasn’t the driveway but beyond. The ground could no longer hold
all of the water so the street at the end of the drive looked like
a lake. Mist rose from the water like steam, and appeared to travel
on wispy feet across the drive. “I don’t think anyone will be
coming or going out of this place anytime soon. Wonderful. And I
left my holy water at home.”

“What are you looking for, Sara.” Dagger
followed her gaze. Several hundred yards to the north they could
see several power transformers.

“I’m listening to the power lines,” Sara
replied.

“Ooooh, I think you just sparked my brain
cells, girlie.” Skizzy rubbed his hands together. “I’ve often
wondered if there was any truth to the wild stories.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dagger
didn’t like the mad scientist look in Skizzy’s eyes.

“I’m not sure but whatever I say is going to
really sound strange.”

Padre chuckled. “I really love hanging with
you guys. You are just a laugh a minute. Whatever you say, Skizzy,
isn’t going to sound as strange as the events of the last three
days.”

Skizzy’s words were cut short as the lights
flickered several times and then they heard a series of loud bangs
as though every door in the house was being slammed shut, and then
the front door slammed in one final angry thrust.

They stood frozen in place, not sure if it
was safe to enter. Then as though some spectral apology were being
extended, the front door slowly opened and the power was
returned.

“That is one pissed off ghost,” Skizzy
whispered.

Sara shook her head. “Or one desperate
one.”

“Don’t start that shit.” Padre slowly pulled
his gun. “There is a logical explanation for everything. The storm
going from banchee to Bambi created a vacuum which caused all the
doors to close. What else could it be?”

“So why the gun, Padre.” Dagger brushed past
and entered the house. “I for one don’t like it when someone messes
with my head.”

Padre holstered his gun and they cautiously
returned to the foyer. “So what can zap all the energy from the
batteries and play with the electricity?”

“Ghosts,” Skizzy replied. “Exactly what Venus
said—ghosts need energy to manifest and they usually draw it from
the power source in the room.”

“I asked for logic, Skizzy.” Padre leaned
against the banister and studied the blood platter. fare

Sara looked past Padre toward the landing and
cocked her head. She started up the stairs. “It’s the music box
again.” She ran the rest of the way with Dagger and Padre close
behind. The hallways were lit up by the wall sconces and they could
see that all of the doors on the second floor were closed. Sara
headed for Julia’s room, and as she neared the door slowly opened.
Padre made a sign of the cross.

Dagger was more suspicious of a human
culprit, pulled his gun and held Sara back while he entered first.
Immediately he noticed that the oblong bench that had been shoved
under the dressing table the last time they were in the room was
now tipped over and lying on the floor. It had fallen open and
revealed an empty cavity. Sara closed the lid to the music box
cutting off the tune. She looked around the room. The only item out
of place was the bench.

Dagger holstered his gun, picked up the bench
and studied the interior. “What do you think, Padre? False
bottom?”

“Hell, why not? Disappearing bodies, storms
from hell, splattered blood. Why not a false bottom?” Padre knocked
on the wood but it didn’t sound hollow.

“Try the lid,” Sara suggested.

The inner lid was lined with fabric which
matched the outside cushion. A small gap at the seam was large
enough to shove a finger in. He pulled gently, then more
forcefully. The lining ripped sending several sheets of paper
scattering to the floor.

Padre rifled through the papers while putting
them into some type of order. “Looks like some handwritten notes
and a police report on Marian Sebold’s death. Let’s look at all
this downstairs. This room gives me the creeps.”

“So the ghost led you to the hidden papers.”
Skizzy appeared to enjoy Padre’s nervousness at the word ghost.

“Let’s just say there are a lot of things in
life one can’t explain.” Padre hunched over the police report while
Dagger examined the handwritten notes allegedly written by Charles
Sebold. Sara chose to review the reports the IPI group had
assembled while Skizzy, who finally had power to his computer, was
busy doing Google searches.

“Ahhh, here we go, girlie.”

Sara leaned over and studied the computer
monitor while Skizzy jotted down notes.

“What are you two up to?” Dagger asked.

“Never mind,” Skizzy said, flicking his
wrist. “Just decipher your own puzzle.”

Padre flipped to the second page. “This
appears to not coincide with the official report stated in the
newspaper. The newspaper article said Marian’s death was a suicide.
This police report says it was a homicide, that she was strangled
with a scarf.” Padre’s voice dropped off and they could barely hear
the
shit
whispered under his
breath.

“Let me guess.” Dagger wasn’t liking this one
damn bit. “The scarf was tied in a bow.”

Skizzy’s eyebrows jiggled up and down
independent of each other. “This is getting curiouser and
curiouser.” He found something he liked on the monitor and jotted
down more notes.

“Why would the police not report her death as
a homicide?” Sara asked.

“Because,” Dagger started, reading from
Charles’ notes, “the powers that be didn’t want rumors of a serial
killer running loose in Cedar Point, this coming on the heels of
Julia being kidnapped a year before. Sebold hired a private
detective to look into other homicides and he discovered that
another woman was strangled ten years prior to that, but he wasn’t
able to dig further.”