The Bridge (Para-Earth Series) (15 page)

next day

              In the morning both Alex and Veronica were more relaxed.  They had talked long into the night and had come up with a plan.  He would proceed with the sale of the property, visiting it only when necessary. They would talk with Cassandra, hoping she would be the one to actually buy the estate.  Alex was confident she would be more than willing to wait on any renovations and keep people out, until the police were satisfied that the area was safe. 

             
Shortly after breakfast, Ronnie left for a day of shopping and a bite of lunch with Olivia Jackson, one of her co-workers.  As soon as she was gone Alex began looking for Jason Cloudfoot’s number in the phonebook.  The man was a psychic, and knew that he was one too.  What else did he know?

             
Alex found the number and was about to dial it when he suddenly shivered.  The wailing cry and the chill that accompanied it still haunted him. 

             
“What am I doing?”
he asked himself.  “Ronnie will have a shit fit if she finds out.”

             
And that was the last thing he wanted.  He loved her deeply.  More than any woman he had ever known and she knew it.  And there was no question in his mind that she felt the same way about him. 

             
The only thing that overshadowed their happiness was her anxiety about the difference in their ages.  Until they were coming back from the Morgue, he had not been able to fully understand her fear.  But now, he was more than willing to let things stand until she was ready.

             
So why was he doing this? 

             
Suddenly the phone rang, scaring the hell out of him.  For a moment he almost expected it to be Veronica saying, “Don’t even think about going over there.”  Or even Jason Cloudfoot asking, “Why do you hesitate?”  

             
But, a quick glance at the screen showed him the caller was Dave.  With a sigh of relief he answered, “What do you want, you bloody yank?”

             
“A night in your girlfriend’s bed,” came his friend’s reply.

             
“You got it.  Mind you she’ll be out on the sofa with me.”

             
“What kind of a pal are you?”

             
“Selfish.  So what can I do for you, besides send you an inflatable girlfriend?”

             
“Tell me what’s going on with the Graham place?  Is there going to be an Open House, and if so what have you got planned?”

             
Alex ran down the list he had in mind, “A band in each of the ballrooms, catered food and drinks, guided tours, the works.”

             
Dave whistled, “That’s sounding pretty fancy.  Mind if I come and crash the festivities?”

             
“Hey, if you can get past the Hell-hounds, the spiked pits, and the fire breathing dragon, then yes.”

             
“Wait let me check,” Dave replied. In the background Alex could hear the all too familiar sound of dice being rolled. “Nat 20, I slaughter them all AND I made my Find Traps roll.”

             
Alex smiled.  They had played Dungeons and Dragons together since junior high.  “I should’ve included modifiers,” he sighed.

             
“No tapbacks, Dude.”             

             
“Do you need a place to stay?”

             
“Nah, I was thinking about going back to that motel I stayed at last time.  Especially, if they still got that hot babe working the front desk.”

             
Alex couldn’t resist, “They’ve got two of them these days.  Which one were you referring to?” There was brief moment of silence from the other end.  Then he heard his friend speaking in a rapid-fire voice, “Look-get-off-the-phone-I-gotta-make-some-reservations-see-you-in-a-day-or-so…Bye.” CLICK.

             
“Bloody horn dog,” he smirked, and started to put the cell phone down.  But it rang again and he automatically hit the green button to answer it.  Immediately, the eerie cold feeling swept over him and he half expected to hear the scream start pouring out from the device.  But instead he heard the voice of Jason Cloudfoot saying, “I was making some tea.  I thought you’d like to join me.”

              Over at Police Headquarters Roy made his way through the maze of desks where several of his staff were working on a special task he’d given them an hour ago.

             
He’d received a call from the lab as soon as he’d arrived.  They’d had more information on the water sample he’d taken the day before.  Not only was it the same water that had been used to kill Paul Chase and the two teenagers, there was also a strange element or mineral that they had never seen the likes of before.  And they were still doing more tests to determine the exact nature of the ‘mystery element’.   So far all they could say for sure was that it seemed to give off a nasty odor in water.

             
As soon as he’d hung up with them, the phone rang again.  This time it had been Wells, the medical examiner, telling him that he’d found no indication of trauma on either of the two teenagers, whose bodies were still in the morgue.  Since the exact cause of the drowning had not yet been determined, their remains had not been released to the parents.  And so far, all indications seemed to be point towards the pair jumping into the water of their own accord.

             
But that made no sense.  Jason had told him the teens seemed very happy and were talking about the future.  He began to wonder if the mysterious element found in the water, with its weird smell, could have anything to do with what happened.  After telling Wells his suspicions, he ordered several of his officers to start searching the records for any reports or incidents involving strange behavior in the vicinity of the bridge.

             
“What have we got so far?” he asked the nearest officer, who happened to be Ronnie’s partner Ryan.

             
“Not much,” the young man replied, “Things were quiet in that area even before Old Man Graham landed up in the hospital.  All we’ve been able to find is a few fistfights, kids smoking pot, and one suicide attempt back in 1930.  Guy was drunk out of his mind at the time and was only half-serious about it.”

             
“That’s all?”

             
“Afraid so,” Ryan shrugged and then added, “Want me to check the Missing Persons files?”

             
“Don’t bother,” Roy replied sitting down on the corner of a desk, “I just finished doing that myself.  A few ‘Last Seens’ in that area, but no more than any other places where kids hang out.”

             
“Maybe the White Lady got them,” suggested Pam, the station’s dispatcher.  She was 30 years old, blonde and was just a little on the heavy side.  But this extra weight merely accentuated her already pleasing curves.  She had lived in New Swindon all her life and knew the town’s history and its many legends better than anyone in the station house.

             
“Who’s the White Lady?” asked Roy.

             
“A ghost who supposedly haunts that bridge,” Ryan explained. “Nobody believes in her.”

             
“Oh really?” said Pam with a quizzical look, “I seem to remember a certain incident involving you and Jenny Wilson while you were parked there once.”

             
Roy couldn’t resist, “What happened?”

             
The Dispatcher set down the cup of coffee she had in her hand and eagerly launched into her story.  “Well, one night I was patrolling that area.  Now knowing the woods around the bridge was also a ‘Lover’s Lane’, I decided to leave my car just out of sight.  My plan was to sneak around quietly on foot and make sure no one was using any illegal substances.”

             
“Uh-huh and what did you find?” asked Roy glancing over at Ryan, who looked like he was silently praying for lightning to strike the Dispatcher before she could finish.

             
“Well, the first vehicle I came across was Lover-boy’s,” here she paused and smiled at Ryan who was now turning red with embarrassment.  “And I overheard him telling Jenny the legend of the White Lady.  He’d gotten her so scared and worked up she’d climbed into his lap for protection, which wasn’t easy since he was still behind the steering wheel.”

             
Shaking his head Roy looked at Ryan and said, “You should’ve gotten her in the backseat first son.”

             
“Tell me about it,” the young man replied.

             
“Anyway,” Pam continued, “He had just given her the old, ‘Don’t be afraid you got me here to protect you’ routine.  And he was just starting to slip his hand inside her blouse, when I leapt in front of their car and turned my flashlight on my face.  To this day I still can’t tell which of them screamed more like a girl.”

             
All around them, the other officers burst out laughing. 

             
But Pam wasn’t finished, “Oh, it got even better.  They screamed so loud, they startled several other couples nearby.  At least two guys jumped out of their cars and fell down trying to run away with their pants around their ankles.”

             
This time her audience went to pieces, at least until Ryan pointed out that the two in question were present right now.  This gave rise to a series of insults and barb-trading until Roy restored order saying, “All right kiddies, you’re not in high school anymore.  Let’s keep it somewhat professional around here.”  Then he turned back to the Dispatcher and asked, “Anything else happen after that?”

             
“Oh yeah,” she nodded solemnly.  “After everyone cleared out I was making sure there wasn’t any ‘questionable’ trash left behind.  I was just about to head back to my patrol car when I saw something moving near the foot of the bridge.”  The Dispatcher’s voice had taken on a tone that sent a nervous chill down the spines of everyone in the room.   

             
Roy got so caught up he forgot himself and grabbed the nearest cup of coffee, which happened to be hers, and took a sip.  “What was it?” he asked quietly.

             
In a tense voice Pam replied, “It was a girl in white, coming out of the water.  At that moment I knew I was looking at a dead girl.”

             
“Seriously?” asked Ryan his annoyance with her apparently forgotten.

             
Pam nodded. “Patty Jenkins parents were going to kill her for messing up that dress and putting on all that make-up just to scare people,” she finished and swiped her cup back from Roy.

             
It took everyone a moment to realize what had just happened and burst out laughing.

             
“Don’t you have a desk to get back to?” Roy growled at the Dispatcher.  “And put some sugar in that coffee next time, it tastes like crap.”

             
“Let me have Friday off, and I’ll get you a cup the way you like,” Pam replied, as he headed for his office.

             
“Only if there’s a donut with it,” he called back.

             
“One with sprinkles,” snickered a large burly officer named Thompson.

             
Roy paused and turned to him saying, “I prefer ones with icing, actually.  And just for that you can sit in for Pam at the Dispatch Desk this Friday.”

             
“Aw, Chief have a heart,” the man complained.

             
“Bet you never knew sprinkles could be so expensive did you?” Peterson laughed and disappeared into his office. 

             
A few minutes later, Pam entered carrying coffee and a chocolate donut with icing and sprinkles.  “I made sure they were fresh today.”

             
“Thanks,” Roy smiled, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Now tell me about the White Lady?  Have many people seen her?”

             
“Oh yeah,” Pam told him.  “A lot of people have seen her over the years, but the descriptions kind of vary from time to time.”

             
“Oh really?” mused Roy aloud, “Tell me her story.”