The Unearthed: Book One, The Eddie McCloskey Series (10 page)

Evan said, “I don’t buy it either.”

“Who called the cops?” Tim asked.

“Eamon. But here’s the tricky part. John would have gotten home around eight. The call was put through at nine-seventeen. Forensics thinks everyone was dead by eight-thirty.”

“So Eamon waited to call. He was probably too traumatized to do anything.”

Evan shrugged. “The timing never sat right with me.”

“Have you heard the recording of the 911 call?” Tim asked.

“Eamon sounded completely out of it. I have the written transcript.”

“With respect to William, did they call him William? Or was it Bill, Billy?” Tim asked.

“Eamon continually refers to him as William in the police transcripts.”

“How about the home-schooling,” Moira said. “Where was the classroom?”

“Living room. Complete with a chalkboard and two desks for the kids. Like their own little world in there.”

Tim said, “If Eamon was there and saw the whole thing, he must have an idea what prompted the argument.”

“Eamon told the police the argument was about William. He said he wasn’t really listening. He was used to them fighting and paid it no mind till it became physical.”

“Pretty morbid,” Nancy said.

“You said you work with teenagers, right?” Tim asked.

“Teen-aged girls, yes.”

“Let me ask you a general question.”

“Oh, there are no general questions with a psychologist.” Evan chuckled. “Stop now if you don’t want her analyzing your childhood.”

Nancy smiled at her husband. “That’s enough out of you.”

Tim leaned forward. “How old are kids when they stop having imaginary friends?”

Nancy sat up and put her feet on the floor. “Like we find with so many things, conventional thinking is wrong. There was a study done a few years ago on this. They originally thought that only one in three preschoolers would have imaginary friends. What they found was that by age seven, two out of three kids had imaginary friends.”

Moira was impressed. She imagined that Evan and Nancy probably had some interesting conversations over the dinner table. Why couldn’t she find a guy like that? Maybe she had. Maybe she was just afraid of hurting Eddie by dating one of his best friends.

Nancy added, “The same study found children as old as twelve having imaginary friends.”

“So thirteen’s not a stretch.”

She shook her head. “Conventional thinking was that kids with imaginary friends were maladjusted, or were more likely to develop relational problems in the future. What this study found was just the opposite—kids with imaginary friends were creative and developed healthy relationships with real people.”

“How about this,” Tim said. “Would it be out of the ordinary for a thirteen-year-old to just start having an imaginary friend?”

“We’re starting to move from the realm of the general into the specific,” Nancy said.

Without reviewing a case history, my opinion isn’t worth much.”

Tim smiled at her. “I’m not going to sue you for malpractice.”

Evan laughed. “Good, because the insurance premiums are highway robbery.”

Nancy smiled. “How do you know for a fact the child never had an imaginary friend until recently?”

“That’s what his parents told us.”

“So that’s what he told them,” she said.

Tim appreciated her skeptic’s eye. “Yeah, but that’s all we have to go on.”

“Tell me about him? Her?”

“Him.”

“Was there some traumatic event in his life recently? Did he lose a family member?”

“The family moved here six months ago from out of state, so he’s the new kid that doesn’t know a lot of people.”

“Has he been in any trouble at school?”

“He was in a fight yesterday.”

Nancy nodded, as if confirming her initial belief. “It’s not exactly out of the ordinary under the circumstances for him to have an imaginary friend.”

“Yeah, but how likely is it?”

“I’d need to know more. Does he have a good relationship with his parents? Any brothers or sisters? Does he suffer from low self-esteem?”

Evan said, “Ask a question, get a question.”

“You should talk.” She smiled at Tim and Moira. “It’s impossible to get a straight answer out of a writer because you spend all day making stuff up.”

Bill
y
was playing one of his video games, racing through the streets of some generic metropolis with the cops in hot pursuit of his souped-up vehicle.

It had been with him all day long. Billy was annoyed. Sometimes he just wanted to be alone.

I know how you can scare him.

“Huh?”

How you can scare him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He didn’t want to scare anybody. He just wanted to be a normal kid, have friends, maybe kiss a girl ...

So your dad believes you about me. Then he won’t talk down to you like you’re a fucking idiot.

“He doesn’t talk to me like I’m an idiot.”

Dude
.

“Whatever.”

Just listen.

“You listen. I need some time.”

What the fuck, man?

Billy paused his game and jumped out of his seat. “Dude, for real, I need to be alone.”

There was a knock on Billy’s door.

“Son,” Dad said. “I’d like to come in and talk to you if that’s okay.”

You’re a dick. Just like your old man.

Billy felt It going away.

“Come in.” Billy wondered what Dad wanted to talk about. Probably time for another lecture.

Dad came in and sat on the edge of the bed. Billy picked up his controller to play more, but Dad said, “Could you put that down for a minute?”

Billy did and faced Dad.

“I want to talk to you about yesterday.”

Billy steeled himself. He’d been hoping against hope that Dad would have just smiled and told him he’d done the right thing with Ryan Kenner. Wishful thinking.

Billy said, “I did what you told me.”

Dad hesitated. “I like that you stood up for yourself.”

Billy knew there was a “but” in his near future.

“I know you must have been afraid—”

“I was not.” That was what he was supposed to say, wasn’t it?

“It’s okay if you were. It’s normal.”

Billy leaned way back in his chair and said nothing.

“It must have been very hard with all the kids there, watching,” Dad said.

Billy felt tears coming. He didn’t want Dad to see him cry.

“If you’re going to stand up to a bully, you stand up to him, though. You don’t wait for his back to be turned. Know what I mean, kiddo?”

He knew it. He knew Dad would find a way to be upset with him. He never did anything right. He’d stood up for himself, in front of the whole school, and now Dad was giving him a lecture?

“I’m talking to you, Billy.”

Billy tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. 

“I understand.”

Tears hung on the precipice of his eyes.

“This is important, son. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Billy felt the shaking in his hands first. He realized it was rage. He exploded out of his chair. “I said I fucking understand!”

He seemed to step outside of himself then. He was crying, but didn’t feel it. He was running out of the room but didn’t know where he was going. He bounded down the stairs and tore ass through foyer. Through the family room to the sliding glass door. Out into the backyard.

Dad yelling his full name: “William Rosselli.”

And he heard Mom yelling, too. She’d been working at the sink when he’d cut through the family room. He had no idea what he was doing.

He sprinted into the woods beyond and put some distance between the house and himself. No going back right now. Maybe not ever. Dad would be too angry. Dad wouldn’t understand. Dad would probably hit him.

* * * *

“Billy!” Jackie roared. He raced out onto the deck. “Come back!”

“What the hell is going on?” Talia appeared at his side. “What did you do up there?”

Jackie faced her. She looked frightened, almost scared to be standing next to him. He calmed himself. “Our son is what’s going on. He just cursed at me again.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Don’t fu—I only said what you and I both agreed should be said. Then he disrespected me.”

How could she question what he had done when he’d stuck to the game plan?

“I wonder where he gets his language from, John.” She pushed past him. “Billy! Please come back! Billy!” She looked down at her bare feet. “Grab my sneakers for me.”

“Tal, he’s not going anywhere.”

“Now!”

Jackie was dumbfounded. She’d never ordered him around before. “I’ll go look for him.”

“In front of the entertainment center. And hurry.”

“I’ll go.”

“John, he’s scared of you. Don’t you get it?”

“He’ll come back. Just give him some time.”

“John, he’s afraid of you.”

Jackie knew she was right, but he was too angry to admit it. He went inside and got her sneakers. She put them on standing up then hurried into the woods. Jackie watched her through the trees till she disappeared.

Jackie went back inside, unsure of what to do. He went into the kitchen. It wasn’t noon, but he needed something to take the edge off. He got a beer and poured it down his throat. There. Better. He opened another one, drank half of that. It didn’t even taste good. Then he sat down on the couch, oblivious to the sound coming from the TV.

* * * *

Evan showed them to the door. Tim was holding a bag that was filled with Evan’s materials on the Moriarty Massacre. He and Moira made the small-talk of goodbyes.

Eddie was still off with Miranda.

Moira said, “When do you need your notebooks?”

“Take your time,” Evan said. “I started another project.”

“What are the pictures in here?”

“They’re pretty gruesome. Mostly of the crime scene. You can see William’s art work in some.”

“Thanks.”

Moira said, “Did you happen to do any research on the house itself?”

“I did, actually. You’ll find some of my notes in there. The house was built in the seventies. Only a couple of families lived there before the Moriartys.”

“That will help,” Moira said. “Did you ever come across any reports of paranormal activity in the house during the Moriartys’ tenure?”

“I didn’t, but I wasn’t looking for any.”

Tim was tired of waiting for Eddie. “I’ll go get my brother.”

“That’s Miranda. Once she gets going with her dolls, you’re in for the long haul,” Evan said. “Her bedroom is down the hall, first on the right.”

“Be right back.”

“So, I was wondering if you’d come do a book signing at my library,” Moira started to say as Tim walked down the hall. Nancy stood in Miranda’s doorway, a loving smile on her face. She was watching Eddie and Miranda play.

“Not me,” Eddie was saying. “I always played video games.”

“You’ve never played with dolls?” Miranda said.

Nancy smiled at Tim and bobbed her head toward the room. “Your brother’s very good with children.”

“That’s because I’m a big kid,” Eddie said.

Tim couldn’t have agreed more. “Ed, we have to get moving.”

“Already?” Miranda gave him a heart-breaking frown. She and Eddie were on the floor, surrounded by her dolls.

“I’m sorry, Randy,” Eddie said. “We have some work to do.”

“What kind of work?”

“We’re—” Tim began.

“Oh, we don’t want to bore you with that,” Eddie cut him off. He made a funny face, and she giggled. That was Eddie. Never serious and everybody liked him.

“When will you come over again?” Miranda asked.

“Oh,” Eddie looked at Nancy. “Sometime soon, I guess.”

“We could always use a babysitter,” she said.

“I’m not a baby,” Miranda said.

“I know, honey.” Nancy smiled. “It’s just an expression.”

“I’m seven now. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Eddie told her, “Me and my brother will come over again soon to hang. Sound good?”

“Yeah. See you, Eddie.” They slapped five and did a complicated handshake.

* * * *

Eddie managed to say goodbye to Evan without having to get near the dog again. As far as he was concerned, they shouldn’t have been allowed to breed domestic animals that size.

They walked to Moira’s car.

“I’ll start digging.” Moira put the folders and notebooks on her passenger seat and closed the door. “Did you call Charlie Waite?”

Tim shook his head. “I’ll do that now, on the way to the Moriartys’, I mean, the Rossellis’.”

“Whoa, slip of the tongue,” Moira said.

“He always was a cunning linguist,” Eddie said.

Tim laughed, in spite of himself. “Charlie’s a good guy. I’m sure he’ll help us.”

“Aside from that speeding ticket he gave me,” Eddie said.

Moira said, “I’ll give you a call this afternoon, tell you what I have before you go dark.”

“All right. Thanks for your help, and good job.” Tim hugged her.

Eddie saw his opening. He leaned in quickly and gave Moira a pat on the back with one hand.

She kissed him on the cheek. Her lips were cold. “See you, Eddie.”

Moira got into her car and drove off.             

“Let’s roll,” Tim said.

“Why are we going back to the Rossellis right now?” Eddie was tired, hung over, and still hungry, since Tim had decided to split the remaining six eggs with two people instead of three.

Bros before hoes, Tim.

“I want to help Stan,” Tim said.

“Can’t he do that himself?”

“Probably.” Tim got behind the wheel and shut the door. “Did you want to stay here and play with some more dolls?”

Eddie took shotgun and shut the door. “What the shit, bro?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, man. We were almost late this morning, then you spend all your time with Miranda.”

“The kid asked me to play with her.”

Tim put the van in reverse and started backing out of the driveway.

“I hope you never have kids,” Eddie said. “You won’t have a clue.”

“And you have no idea how to act like an adult.”

Tim continued backing out of the driveway. He pulled the van onto the street. “Ed, let’s … I’m sorry about that.”

Eddie reminded himself this was Tim’s biggest case, and Michelle had been giving him heat about joining the team. He had a lot on his plate.

“It’s cool, man.”

They drove the next twenty minutes in silence. When they arrived at the Rossellis’, Stan’s SUV was parked under the basketball hoop. The garage door was open, and one car was missing.

Stan was waiting for them by his car, smoking a cigarette. Eddie signaled for one, and Stan pulled out his pack and offered it to him.

“Bad news. Billy ran away,” Stan said.

“Ran away?” Tim asked.

“Earlier today. Him and Jackie had an argument, and Billy took off. Talia’s out looking for him now.”

“Holy shit. How long has he been gone?” Eddie asked.

“Almost four hours.”

“Which way did he go? Into the woods?” Eddie asked, worried. He liked the kid a lot.

“Yeah.”

“Jesus,” Eddie said.

Jackie came out of the front door. “Stan told you?”

Eddie nodded.

“Talia’s out looking for him now,” Jackie said.

“You know, Jackie,” Tim began, “I was about to call Charlie Waite. He’s the Chief of Police and a good friend. I can ask him to keep an eye out.”

“He’ll be back,” Eddie said. “Kids do this from time to time.”

Jackie ignored him and said to Tim, “I’d appreciate that.”

“Be right back,” Tim said.

Jackie looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood by Eddie and Stan. “I want you to move forward tonight. We need answers.”

“Has he ever run away before?” Eddie asked.

“No. Just like he’s never had an invisible friend before this … fucking house.”

* * * *

“Charlie Waite,” Tim said into his cell phone.

“I can’t help you get out of any speeding tickets,” came the gravelly voice at the other end of the line.

“I don’t have a speeding problem, my brother does.”

“I would’ve cut him a break,” Charlie said. “He got pulled over by the wrong new recruit. Speaking of which.”

Tim heard Charlie close a door on the other end of the line.

“I pulled somebody in,” Charlie said. “Possession. Your brother’s name came up.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s pretty thin and the guy is throwing names out there to save his own ass. Like they always do.”

“But?”

“But all the other names … they’re bad dudes.”