The Seekers, page 17
“Not so funny,” Brad said. “Sorry, Eileen, I mean funny in a sad way. I’ve been fielding calls from people at other haunted locations who would appreciate us investigating for them. But, Carl, I’m waiting here. Unless, it reaches a point where I just can’t anymore.”
Mike wasn’t paying attention to any of them. He was appreciating one of the desserts. “This chocolate thing is amazing,” he informed them.
“We really can’t stay, huh?” Eileen asked.
“Eileen,” Pete muttered, uncomfortable.
“Hey, it’s fine by me,” she said.
“I’m not surprised,” Joe said easily, “after what you witnessed. You did mention that you thought you might have been pushed down the stairs.”
“It might have been my own lack of coordination. Or who knows, maybe one of the ghosts of Miller Inn and Tavern was trying to contact me, warn me, and knocked me down instead. Keri is right. It was so traumatic, we don’t know what we really saw or felt. Thank goodness Keri was there and got us out,” Eileen said. “Although the danger was gone by then. Poor Agent Castro. It was all over before she was down there. But I’ll be ready to come back. You never know... If we get back in here, maybe Agent Castro will show herself somehow, help us find out exactly what happened.”
“That’s always a possibility, maybe something on an EVP,” Serena said earnestly.
They went on talking about the many ways they just might hone in on Julie and perhaps prove what had happened years before.
Finally, Dallas rose. “Hey, guys, I’m on this, I promise. For now, we’ve all got to get some sleep. We’ll see you out to your car. There are still cops out there, but at the moment, it makes me happy when we’re all super safe.”
Brad rose, and Mike and Pete did the same. Pete was still holding hands with Eileen and drew her up with him.
Serena bounced up, smiling. “Thanks, Dallas, Joe. Carl. Keri. It’s good being back in here. Thank you for letting us stay. And good to know that the catering company makes such great desserts.”
“We really, really do want to get back in as soon as possible,” Brad told Dallas as they walked toward the door.
“I think,” Joe said, “that Dallas really, really knows that.” He inclined his head as he looked at Brad, partially joking and partially serious.
“Okay, okay,” Brad said. “Not tonight, not tomorrow. How about the next day?”
“A true possibility,” Dallas said.
Then, at last, they were gone.
“Okay, sleep,” Dallas said, looking at Joe.
“First shift again,” Joe said.
“Fine with me,” Dallas said.
He walked to the front door, assuring himself that it was locked. Joe walked over to the basement door. There was no bolt on it, but there was a lock, and he checked it. Outside, the padlock remained on the hatch cellar door.
“Shall we?” Joe asked, looking at Carl and Keri.
Keri went ahead up the stairs, followed by Carl, then Joe and then Dallas. Dallas headed into his room and Joe set up the chair between Keri’s and Carl’s.
“Good night. And thanks, Dallas, Joe,” Carl said.
Keri offered her thanks as well. Then, once again, she curled into bed in her jeans and the soft knit T she’d chosen to wear for the day.
She didn’t think that she would sleep; she lay there, curled toward the connecting door, watching Joe as he sat in the chair, reading off his phone.
Eventually, she did sleep, and it was strange. She knew she had fallen asleep, but she was still aware, and in that awareness, she knew that she’d been afraid to sleep because of her dreams.
The woman in white was near her, whispering to her. “Please, it’s all right, you must follow the path, and then you’ll know.”
The woman in white was gone.
Keri was in back of the tavern, and to her left, she could see the old abandoned church and the graveyard. To her right was the forest.
Soft mist was falling again. It was white and powdery, slightly damp and pleasant against her skin.
She heard chanting.
As the chanting began, the mist began to darken, and she felt the shadows come. She started to run, and the world seemed to have combined, different parts of the landscape colliding so that she raced through trees and through all the broken stones in the graveyard.
The chanting grew louder...
It looked almost as if she was in the basement of the Miller Inn and Tavern, but the walls were trees, and the ceiling was strange sky, but the mist was everywhere, growing darker and darker.
There was the altar, like the altar in the church, like the stone slab John Newby had kept in his basement.
Where Julie had been brought, dead and sliced to ribbons and doused in her own blood.
Keri struggled to awaken; there was something on the altar. Someone...
She didn’t want to see. She was so afraid she’d face what was left of her own image.
She heard the whispering again, from the woman in white, Beatrice Bergen.
“You must see and remember, you must remember...”
She forced herself not to scream as she managed to waken at last.
She was safe and sound in the bed, and Dallas and Joe were just changing positions. Joe started to walk through to his room.
“Please,” she said softly.
He paused a long moment, and then he said, “Sure.”
And he lay down beside her, far on his side of the bed. Not touching her.
And yet, it was as if she felt every inch of him. She hoped that she would sleep quickly again, because then, and only then, she could do as she wanted...
Inch closer and feel his warmth and strength.
11
“Eileen. She was the one on the basement stairs,” Dallas said.
“Yes, so, I’m going to imagine that Pete is involved, too. They’re attached to one another almost as if their skin has fused,” Joe agreed.
He and Dallas were at the kitchen entry with the door wide open. They could see through the space behind the bar and into the museum where Keri and Carl were, Carl with his head buried in a screenplay, and Keri behind the desk, going through more and more of the many folders kept in the drawer there.
Joe and Dallas spoke quietly, throwing out theories.
“Brad. He’s the great leader,” Dallas said. “Anxious to get back in here. Is he afraid that he missed something and the forensic teams missed it as well?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Too obvious? Also, Brad seems to be too successful. Growing more successful all the time. He’s the one who chooses what they do and don’t do. The others go home when they’re not on an ‘investigation.’”
“Home is New York City for him,” Dallas noted.
“Yes, four or five hours to get out here, depending on traffic and who’s driving,” Joe agreed. “Easy enough to be involved in something. I don’t think that they dance with the devil nightly,” he added dryly.
“I guess the devil likes to dance,” Dallas mused. “Eileen and Pete are also from New York City—easy enough commute—unless it’s a parade day in NYC. Then, it could take four or so hours just from one end of the island to the other.”
“Okay, Mike’s home is in Chicago, a longer commute, and Serena Nelson is from Charleston—a much longer commute.”
“Angela is tracking their credit card records, searching for one of them who might not have had handy cash for regular Pennsylvania trips and never suspected that they’d be suspects. Back to Brad, internet ghost-guy superstar. He made the arrangements, he lives in New York, and he’s driving everyone nuts about accessing the inn. You don’t seem to think of him as guilty. Why is that?” Dallas asked.
“I could be way off. I believe Brad in a way I’m not sure I do the others. Hey, I did find someone I do trust a lot. Belinda—Officer Belinda Emory. And she’s not local. She just married a man from Lancaster.”
“I liked her and her partner,” Dallas agreed. “They seem clean as whistles, and while there can always be a dirty cop, I’m hoping we don’t have that situation here. If there is a dirty cop, I don’t think it’s one of them. However, I think there is one Truth Seeker not being truthful in the least. Serena Nelson—Miss Annoyingly Cheerful.”
“Possibly, but not because she’s annoyingly cheerful. I just can’t find a real reason to suspect her. She was in the room with the others when Eileen went down the stairs and Keri went after her.”
“However, with all the missing footage from the cameras, we don’t know who was where when, except for those last few minutes. When Eileen stumbled down the stairs and Keri followed, the others all swear that they were together in room 207.”
“Carl was with one of them or the other almost all the time, but he wasn’t with everyone all the time. Say it is a group perpetrating this murder and possibly others—one of the group could have not physically committed the murder, and yet still be in on it,” Joe said. “Anyway, I should get Keri, and we should get going. I’m hoping to hell that Dot Harrington and Jared Cabot might have found something in Philadelphia and that Ed Newel will be coherent now and might be able to tell us more. Of course, Harrington or Cabot should have reported anything to you, but there’s still nothing like being there and doing the questioning yourself.”
Dallas grinned, looking at him, and agreed.
“Sorry, I can stay here, and you can go, if you like.”
Dallas shook his head. “No, I trust your instincts. That’s why you’re going to make a great Krewe agent. I keep thinking that maybe if I’m here, the ghosts that appear for Miss Wolf will make an appearance for me, and that they’ll give us what we need.”
“So far, our woman in white, Beatrice Bergen, seems to want to clear her father’s name. Her father has made one brief appearance. I didn’t see him at all, I just know what Keri told me. Anyway, I figure three to four hours travel time and a few hours in the city.” He glanced at his watch. “Nine a.m. We’ll be back by dark.”
“Take what time you need. I think if we do let the Truth Seekers back in tomorrow, I’ll call for reinforcements from the head office—there are five of them, two of us, and even with cops outside, I’d like better odds. Hard to bodyguard two people and carry out an investigation.”
“Good plan,” Joe said. “I’ll get Keri.”
He walked behind the bar and across to the entry to the museum room.
Keri looked up at him, smiling. “I know we have to get to the hospital, but after, I’d really appreciate it if we could spare an hour. I have an old friend in the city who helped me years ago on my second book, when I was working on a Colonial murder case. Dr. Sam Jeffries. I didn’t think of it before this morning, but when I was going through these files this morning, I found an article he wrote on the inn and the surrounding area. He might have some insight.”
“Absolutely,” Joe assured her. “Should we head out?”
“So,” Carl said, “it’s just me and Dallas hanging here?”
“And two cops outside,” Dallas reminded him. “We’ll be fine.”
“You won’t leave me, right?” Carl asked him.
“I won’t leave you,” Dallas promised.
“You know, I’m really not bad with a sword. I had a great cameo in a pirate movie, and we had to learn how to sword fight. Spent a lot of time with a master. Maybe I should find a sword to run around with. I’m not fond of guns. I’m always afraid that I’d shoot myself before I managed to use it for any kind of defense. Not that I mind you guys having guns, but you know what you’re doing with them. Sorry, I’m babbling. I have reading, of course, but Dallas, if you want to explore...?”
“I think a check on the whole of the inn is always in order,” Dallas told him. “We’ll lock these guys out and get started.”
Dallas and Carl followed them to the door. Carl hugged Keri. She smiled, hugging him back, and then Joe and Keri were finally out.
They waved to the new foursome of cops who were on duty. The cops waved back.
“Philadelphia is a really big city, you know,” Keri told Carl as they drove.
“The sixth most populated in the United States,” he said.
“How can you think that we’ll find anything there? But I’m thrilled that I found the article by Dr. Sam Jeffries. He’s an amazing man—taught at Yale and Harvard. And so nice. He was great with me, even though I didn’t have much of a record when I asked for his help.”
“I’ll be looking forward to meeting him,” Joe said. He glanced her way. “What was your take on the Truth Seekers when you met them?”
“My take,” she repeated, staring at the new hotel as they rounded the curve onto the highway that would take them to Philadelphia. “Naturally, I looked up what Brad did. My publicist, Carmen Menendez, is brilliant and does all kinds of things I wouldn’t begin to know how to do. Reading is subjective, so you have to hit the right audience.” She stopped speaking, wincing as she glanced over at him.
“What?” he asked.
“This may seem off point, but it’s the whole story and why I feel the way I do.”
“Long drive,” he assured her. “Talk away.”
“Okay, so... Carl’s people contacted Carmen and gave her all the information about the inn and about the Truth Seekers. I admit, I thought it was ridiculous. I will never claim to be a historian, but I do meticulous research on what I do write. I wasn’t sure about people who turn every creak of a floorboard into a ghostly occurrence. I’m from Richmond, my house is over one hundred and fifty years old, and floorboards creak all the time.
“Anyway, Carmen was so excited she could have imploded. She thought that this would be fantastic—a chance to sell tens of thousands more books, in her mind. Personally, I think she has a crush on Carl, but I looked up the Truth Seekers and watched a number of their videos. Several of them proved that the noises were faulty pipes and that lights flickering had to do with bad wiring. I liked what I saw.
“And I have to admit, the story of the Miller Inn and Tavern is wonderful without any ghostly occurrences. Ghost stories have taken over, but... It’s like Philadelphia, I guess. I love just standing where those men used words and the power of persuasion to create a country. I love walking into Independence Hall and imagining what it was like—fiery and fierce as they all put forth their ideas on what should be.” She hesitated. “Just as there were such brilliant men in history—we can look back at this place and the roster of those who went through—brilliant men, willing to fight for right and justice. History has always given us heroes—and monsters. And right now I guess we’re dealing with monsters.”
“Whatever’s been going on, it all started a long time ago,” Joe said. “It’s chilling to think that there might have been many, many victims throughout the years. It’s certainly easier to believe that someone died quickly having their throat slit than it is to imagine them being slowly sliced up, but one way or the other, a life is stolen. If there is something that has been going on for years, many of the killers may have gotten away with it and lived out their natural lives.”
“Do you really think that it could be so insidious and go so deep?” Keri asked him.
“I don’t know. But I do think we’re on to something. This is bugging me, though. If there have been murders committed by a strange sect of devil worshippers through the years, why practically invite in massive law enforcement by making such a show of Julie’s body? Sometimes, I can’t help but think that she was displayed as she was to put blame on others.”
“Okay, that would mean that there are possibly two sets of people killing people? I think we’re really grasping at straws there,” Keri said. “We don’t think it’s possible for one person to have tricked Julie, sliced her throat, collected her blood, got her down to the basement and then displayed with the blood thrown all over her.”
“Right,” he agreed.
They eventually reached Philadelphia, and Joe was able to easily find the hospital. They gave their ID upon entering, and again on the floor where they encountered the guard watching over Agent Ed Newel.
Jared Cabot was in the room with Ed, and he came out to welcome them as Joe was pocketing his credentials. Joe looked around the room as they entered. Dot Harrington was not there.
“Dotty is out on the streets, watching the clothing store, seeing if anyone comes back in to use the phone,” Jared explained. “And—” he turned to the bed where Newel lay connected to all kinds of wires and a pulley “—this is Special Agent Ed Newel. Ed, I’d like you to meet one of our new consultants, ready to head into the academy, and Miss Keri Wolf, historian and writer.”
Ed Jewel was clearly doing better—he was conscious, and his bed was at an incline—but he still looked like hell. There were bandages on his nose, and his eyes still appeared to be blackened. He was in his midthirties with a full head of dark hair and large dark eyes, and he tried to smile when he lifted a hand. “Hey.”
Jared indicated a chair; there was another across the bed. “Please, take the chairs. I’ve been sitting. A little stretch will be good.”
“Thank you,” Keri told him, sitting down.
Ed Newel studied her and tried another smile. “I’ve read a few of your books. I should read all of them.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I just deal with very old crimes. You put your life on the line every day.”
“Desk duty for a good while now.” There was a catch in his voice. “Which will be fine. I had the best partner in the world. Now, I don’t.” He sighed deeply. “And you’re here hoping that I can tell you something that no one else has been able to get from me. Don’t you think that I’d do anything—anything at all—to catch Julie’s killer?”
“Absolutely,” Joe said. “But you know as well as I do that tiny details remembered later can help. I know we’re grasping at straws, and I know that Dot and Jared are your coworkers, and I’m so damned sorry to make you relive any of this. But will you go over it again?”
