Stolen Dreams (18 page)

“So, how did your controlled dreaming go last night?” Ian
asked as they drove toward Sol’s house in Pearl City.

Mary shook her head. “The controlled part fell pretty far
from the mark,” she admitted. “But the resolution was amazing. I didn’t,
however, meet up with Alison, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to make another
trip to the assisted living center.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ian volunteered.

She turned and smiled at him. “Thank you for offering,” she
said. “But Rosie’s already volunteered and I feel she’s a little better cover
story than you.”

“I don’t know,” Mike said. “Ian’s been looking a little
worse for wear lately.
 
You might be able
to pass him off as a senior citizen.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Ian replied.

“Hey, any time,” Mike responded.

There was silence in the vehicle for a few moments, and then
Ian spoke quietly. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said.

She continued to look ahead out of the windshield to the
corn fields filled with golden brown stalks ready for the harvest and
farmhouses on the edge of the roads with pumpkins and spider webs adorning
their front porches.
 
“Yes, I do,” she
replied with a resigned sigh. “If I run away now, I’ve let it win.”

“No, you’ve just avoided a potential pitfall,” he argued.
“There’s naught wrong with that.”

She turned to look at him. “Would you, if it were you?” she
asked.

He took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment
before he answered. “No. No, I
wouldna
, if you’re
asking for the truth,” he said honestly. “But I’m not carrying a wee bairn and
I don’t have as many people relying on me as you do.”

“You have people relying on you,” Mary insisted.
“Me for one.”

She glanced over her seat, looking at Mike and nodding
meaningfully.
 
Mike just nodded back and
smiled. Widening her eyes, she motioned towards Ian with her head, but Mike
just looked confused. Finally, rolling her eyes, she said, “And Mike, you must
rely on Ian.”

Mikes eyes finally widened in understanding and he nodded.
“Well, yeah, of course I do,” he said.

“Do you now?” Ian
asked,
a smile on
his face. “And what is it that you rely upon me for?”

“Well, there’s no one in town that gives me as much material
for my jokes as you do,” he replied. “You’re pretty much a joke a minute.”

“Mike!” Mary scolded.

Ian and Mike both laughed. “Now, you’re in trouble,” Ian
said, glancing at Mike through the rearview.

“Yep, Mom’s mad,” Mike teased. “No dessert after dinner
tonight.”

“You are both such brats,” she remarked, folding her arms
over her chest.

“Okay, back down to serious business,” Ian said once the
laughter had faded away. “We don’t leave you alone in the house and if you feel
the least bit nervous, you let us know.”

Mary nodded. “I’m perfectly fine with that,” she said. “Have
you figured out how you want to set up the cameras?”

“Yes, we’ll stay away from the dining room because that
could give us some false positives that would ruin our plan,” he said. “We wire
the parlor, the living room and the staircase, but make sure that all of the
cameras rotate enough to look out the window.”

“Why do you want them to look out the window?” Mike asked.

“
Ah,
and there’s the beauty in the
plan,” Ian said with a smile. “But I’m not going to ruin the surprise.
 
You’ll just have to wait with the rest of
them for the great unveiling.”

They arrived at the house a few minutes later. Ian turned in
his seat to Mike. “Why don’t you let us enter the house first?” he suggested.
“Just to see if there is any residual demon presence before you come in.”

“Are you sure?” Mike asked.

Ian nodded. “Yeah, this way we’ll know if we have to be on
guard before you walk in and cause it to hide in the shadows.”

“Okay, you want your enemies out in the open, not
camouflaged,” Mike said.

“Exactly,” Ian replied.

Mary and Ian walked up the porch steps, Ian making sure he
was in front of Mary, protecting her from any surprise coming from the inside
of the house. “How are you doing?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. “So far, so good,” she replied.

He inserted the key into the lock, turned the knob and
opened the door.
 
They stepped inside
into the front hall and Ian paused to look at her. “Well, how are your feeling
now?” he asked.

Mary took a couple steps into the hall, her footsteps on the
polished wood floor echoing in the house.
 
Stopping at the base of the staircase, she took another deep breath and
tried to release the tension in her body.
 
She knew she was just waiting for something to happen.
 

“So?” Ian asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing so far,” she said. “But I’m
going to try something different.”

She closed her eyes, and with her other senses, including
her sixth sense, tried to seek out any uneasiness or threat in the house.
 
She took a mental walk into the parlor and
living room and up the staircase.
 
Finally, she mentally moved down the dark hallway and into the dining
room.
 
Nothing.
She felt absolutely nothing.
 

“I feel okay,” she finally told Ian, opening her eyes. “I don’t
feel any paranormal threats.”

“Okay then,” Ian said, turning towards the parlor and his
pile of equipment. “Then let’s get to work.”

Mary, Mike and Ian started on the first floor, running very
visible lines from the cameras and sound recorders back to a main instrument panel
in the parlor.
 
They had been working for
several hours when Mike came back into the parlor to find Ian.

“I don’t remember all these lines before,” Mike said,
looking around the room that had several dozen strands of cable running across
the floor and over the Oriental rug to a foldable table that Ian was working
behind.
“When you set up in Bradley’s old house.”

“These are more for show,” Ian explained. “I want Sol to
believe that if there was a camera around, there would also have to be obvious
wiring attached to it.”

“Ah, setting the trap, are we Professor?” Mike asked.

“Yes, and we want to be sure we have this one caught
securely,” Ian commented as he adjusted the control panel. He lifted his head
and looked up at Mike. “Do me a favor and hop out to the kitchen and tell me if
the camera lens is moving.”

Mike disappeared and then reappeared a few moments later.
“Yeah, it’s got a horizontal movement, but not a vertical one,” he replied.

“That’s fine,” Ian said. “All I need is horizontal.”

Mary, who was in the hallway next to them, walked into the
parlor and brushed her hands together. “Okay, the final curtain has been pulled
back enough to see the outside,” she said. “And I’ve set some things around it
so it looks like it was an accident on our part as we were setting up
microphones. Mike, did you ask Ian about Marty?”

“What about Marty?”
Ian asked.

“I got distracted,” Mike admitted at the same time.

“I haven’t heard from Marty lately,” Mary said. “Not since
after the dining room incident. I’ve been calling to him as I’ve worked around
the house, but I’ve gotten no response. Have you seen him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Ian replied.

“Well, he might be less anxious to wander around the house
knowing there’s a demon also in residence,” Mike suggested.

“He really is the key to this whole plan,” Ian said. “So,
what do we do next?”

Contemplating her options, Mary looked at Ian. “Did Sol say
that he wouldn’t be in town at all today?” she asked.

“Well, he said that he had to be in Chicago,” Ian replied.
“But, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t come back to see what we’re doing. Why?”

“I think we need to check out the basement,” she said.

“Oh, you mean the basement with the door in the kitchen that
has the large padlock on it?” Mike said.

Mary shrugged. “Yeah, that one,” she replied and then she
glanced hopefully at Mike.
“Unless you just want to pop down
there and see if you can find Marty.”

Mike shook his head regretfully. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he
said. “That’s your territory. You’re the one they’re drawn to.”

Mary nodded. “Okay then,” she said. “Let’s go pick a lock.”

“I wanted to get down to that basement anyway,” Ian said,
picking up a tiny camera and sticking it in his pocket. “Especially if we think
that’s where he buried Marty. But first, let’s put some barricades in front of
the door to slow Sol down in case he shows up.”

Moving all of the cases that contained Ian’s equipment, as
well as a few ladders and chairs thrown in for good measure, they created quite
an impressive barricade that stretched halfway up the door and for a foot on
either side. “Good job,” Mary said, standing back and surveying their
handiwork.
 
Then she gasped in dismay.

“What?” Ian asked.

“My lock picking tools,” she said. “I think I left them in
your car.”

Mike and Ian looked at the mound piled up in front of the
door and looked back at Mary. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Ian begged.

She put her hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out the
cloth container. “Oh, look, I do have it,” she teased. “But once again, I left
my hankie.”

“Smart aleck,” Ian replied. “And I assume you also have some
flashlights in those ever handy pockets.”

“Of course I do,” she answered pertly.

The lock was picked in no time and Mary opened the door.
“Obviously, this was just in place to keep the guests from the basement,” she
said. “It was a really easy lock to pick.”

Ian shook his head. “Obviously,” he agreed with a smile.
“So, where’s the light switch?”

He reached inside and patted the wall, finally finding an
ancient turn switch that illuminated just one single bulb dangling over the
ramshackle staircase. He looked down the stairs and shook his head. “This was
designed to keep sane people away from the basement,” he said, propping his
hands against the walls on either side of the stairs. “I’ll go down first to
make sure it can hold our weight.”

“I’ll go down next,” Mike offered. Both Mary and Ian turned
to Mike and stared at him in confusion. “But you don’t weigh anything,” Mary
finally said.

“Yeah, well, it seemed like a guy thing to do,” he replied.

The three slowly made their way down the ancient, wooden
slats to the basement.
 
The walls were
limestone, covered with spider webs festooned with small, white balls.
 
“What are those?” Mike asked with a shudder.
“The remains of creatures caught in the web?”

Ian looked back up the stairs at him and shook his head.
“No, not at all,” he said.

Mike breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“Aye, those are the egg sacks of the spiders that live down
here in the basement,” Ian added conversationally. “At any moment those sacks
could burst open and millions of tiny spiders will be crawling over everything
in reach.”

Mike froze on the stairs. “Everything?” he asked.

“Aye, even angels,” Ian replied,
then
he paused and stared at Mike for a moment.

“What? What?” Mike demanded.

“Something on your neck,” Ian said slowly.

Mike screamed and slapped at his neck, but his hand went
through it. “Wait, they can’t get on me,” he countered. “I don’t have anything
for them to get on.”

Ian shrugged and turned back the other way. “Oh, well then,
I must have been mistaken,” he replied evenly.

“Funny guy,” Mike said as he continued down the stairs after
Ian. “Everyone thinks they’re a comedian.”

Mary, standing behind Mike on the staircase, shook her head
and bit back her laughter. “Okay,” she said, “we’re supposed to be
professionals here.”

“Tell Professor Arachnoid that,” Mike grumbled.

At the bottom of the steps, Ian found another turn switch,
but this time it illuminated a series of old, fluorescent, work lights
throughout the basement.
 
The lighting
was dim, casting eerie, yellowish shadows throughout the space. Discarded
furniture and cardboard boxes created obstructions that had to be climbed over
or gone around.
 
In the center, the old
furnace had large, round ducts that came extending from the base like long,
thick arms disappearing into the floor joists. Small, half walls had been
haphazardly thrown together, separating one small area from another.
 
In one corner was a disorganized work area
with a table filled with pieces of piping, electric wire and old, light
fixtures.
 
Another area held the water
heater and softener that were hoisted up on aging pallets to protect them from
the water seeping in through the cracked foundation.

“Where do we start?” Ian asked, looking around in
perplexity.

“Well, if I were going to bury a body in my basement,” Mary
said, slowly moving into the space, “I’d make sure of two things.
 
One, whatever I buried him under was pretty
secure, and two, I covered it up darn well.”

“So, new concrete?”
Mike suggested,
having the advantage because he could glide through the furniture instead of
climbing on or around.

“Yes, that would work,” Mary said.

“Bingo,” Mike replied, pointing to a corner of the basement
piled high with old chairs and trunks. “I think we have a winner.”

It took Mary and Ian a few minutes to finally make it over
to where Mike stood, but when they arrived, they agreed with the angel.
 
The small section of concrete had been
recently poured and smoothed over.
 
It
lapped over the limestone where it met the wall and was only about ten by ten
feet square. Ian scanned the room. “Yes,” he agreed. “Of all the spots to add
new concrete, especially with a leaking, cracked floor near your water heater,
why here?”

“So, what do we do next?” Mike asked.

“Marty,” Mary called. “Marty, we really need you to appear.”

“But I don’t want you to get hurt,” came the disembodied
response.

“Marty, if I can’t solve this crime, I stand a greater
chance of getting hurt,” she called back. “If Sol did this to you, why do you
think he wouldn’t do it to me?”

An indignant Marty appeared in front of her immediately.
“Did he threaten you?” he demanded. “Did he say anything like that?”

“No. No, he hasn’t,” Mary replied gently. “And thank you for
your concern. But, if he was willing to kill you, why wouldn’t he be willing to
do it again?”

Sighing loudly, Marty nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said.
“I have a hard time believing he actually did this to me.”
 
Suddenly, he looked around and realized where
they were. “Why are we down here? This place is like a death trap.”

The irony was not lost on the small group. “Marty, we
believe that we are standing next to your grave,” Mary said.

“He buried me in the freaking basement?” he shouted. “He
knew I hated this place. All those spider eggs ready to burst open!”

“Tell me about it,” Mike agreed.

Marty turned to Mary. “Okay, I’m in,” he said with
determination. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

After the conversation with Marty, Ian took a moment to plant
the camera he’d put in his pocket in one of the floor joists aimed at Marty’s
resting place. “I’m good,” he said. “Now we should—”

They all froze as they heard a key rattling in the door
upstairs. “Crap,” Mary whispered. “It looks like we have company.”

“I’ll go upstairs and let you know when he gets through the
door,” Mike volunteered, disappearing immediately.

“Hurry!”
Marty yelled. “You don’t
want him to catch you down here.”

Moving faster than she thought possible, Mary and Ian
quickly moved back through the obstacle course and up the back stairs.
 
They were about to close the door when Ian
glanced back down.
“Oh no, the lights.
I forgot
to—.”
 
But suddenly the lights went
off.
 

Mike appeared next to them. “I’ve got your back,” he said.

“Thanks. Thanks much,” Ian replied.

Closing the door, Mary latched it and slipped the padlock
back in place. Then they hurried to the front parlor just as Sol was finally
pushing away the barricade. “What the hell is this?” he shouted.

“It’s our equipment cases!” Ian yelled back.
“Custom cases, and plenty expensive.
So, if you don’t mind,
back off and we’ll let you in.”

“Don’t know why a man is barricaded out of his own house,”
Sol grumbled.

“Well, if a man told us that he was coming, we wouldn’t have
piled the cases so close to the door,” Ian countered.

They moved the cases out of the way and Sol marched into the
room.
 
Glancing around, he took in all
the equipment, wires and cameras. “So is this going to catch my ghost?” he
asked.

“If you have a ghost, this will catch it,” Ian said, moving
behind the control panel. “Now, are you planning on staying here overnight or
can I set the timer?”

“If I’m here your stuff won’t work?” Sol asked skeptically.

“If you want this to be considered professionally done and
without fabrication or manipulation, we really can’t have people in the same
area, can we?” Ian replied haughtily. “However, if you would rather risk
academia throwing this study out, we can still run with it.
 
At this point, I don’t really care.”

Sol nodded slowly, acknowledging Ian’s point. “Yeah, sorry,”
he said. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be here. I wasn’t
gonna
stay here anyway, but, you know, this is my property and it is the eighth most
haunted house in Illinois, so I needed to protect my interests.”

“We understand,” Mary replied, amused at the ever-changing
ranking of the house. “If we get anything on tape that is at all like what
you’ve been suggesting, this will be the paranormal find of the year, perhaps
even the decade.”

Sol grinned.
“Yeah.
Yeah it will
be,” he said and then he turned to Ian. “And won’t you be grateful for the day
I let you investigate my house?”

Ian sighed audibly. “I’ll thank you when I see what the
cameras pick up,” he replied, pressing a button on the control panel. “Okay,
it’s on a timer, so we have fifteen minutes to pack up and get out of this
house.”

“Okay, okay,” Sol said. “Don’t rush me, ‘
cause
I’m the guy who’s going to make you famous.”