Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum (26 page)

Not far from Rico’s hip, as was now usual,
Turk appeared more interested in the incoming messages on his cell phone than
in Rebecca’s presentation. At least he’d turned it to silent mode. Zach
wondered about Turk’s “buddy buddy” relationship with Rico. If Zach wasn’t
pretty sure that Matthew was involved, he might suspect Turk and Rico being in
cahoots. But would Turk team up with Matthew? Or was Rico’s budding friendship
with Turk merely a cover for his established alliance with Matthew?

Next to them, Pierre puffed on his pipe as
though he didn’t have a care in the world. This was a guy who was claiming to
have been drugged less than twenty-four hours ago? The words that had played in
Zach’s head when he’d run into Pierre at Rosewood came back to him.
One may
smile and smile and be a villain.
But did Pierre have the wherewithal to
plan out a distractive argument with Matthew and feign being drugged? And if
so, why? What benefit would two tech guys get from creating more dramatic
results?

“A Soul Snatcher’s purpose is to collect the
souls of the dead and gain in power and force as he does so.”  Rebecca
stood awkwardly in front of the camera. “Often that increase of power can be
felt in the living world more acutely. Although Soul Snatchers are sometimes
confused with biblical demons or the Devil, there appears to be no firm
connection. Soul Snatchers, however, model themselves after the Devil and
apparently lust after power.”

Shelly and Patrizia stood next to each
other. He knew Shelly, and the odds were long that she’d tamper with evidence.
And moreover, why?  She’d never shown any discontentment with being
exactly what she was—a quality investigator. Patrizia was more of an enigma.
Zach didn’t know her well, but she seemed trustworthy. Besides, anyone with a massive
tattoo of
San Michele Arcangelo
on her arm got the benefit of the doubt
in Zach’s book—unless evidence pointed toward her.

“Most Soul Snatchers model themselves after
the Devil’s lust power.” Rebecca paraphrased herself looking at her notes. “In
death, their dreams of power and glory still unfulfilled, they set themselves
on collecting souls.” She shuffled her papers and looked up apparently
finished.

Shelly raised her hand. “How can we tell if
we’re dealing with a Soul Snatcher here?” The team knew that Rebecca did better
answering questions than making a presentation.

“One sign is suicide. A Soul Snatcher first
drives the victim to despair, then encourages him or her to end his life. After
death, the Soul Snatcher will convince the lost soul that he has no choice but
to join the Soul Snatcher’s world, and the Soul Snatcher’s power grows. The
more souls it collects, the greater its influence in our world—from what my
research suggests.”

“Could the Soul Snatcher be this famous
female ghost of Rosewood?” Ray asked.

And finally there was Ray, Zach thought. Not
a chance of him tainting evidence and then calling Zach’s attention to it,
right? Not his best friend. Never having been in the position of trying to root
out a traitor, from Zach’s vantage point, even the obviously innocent bore the
outlines of potential guilt.

“It could be. You never know.” Her formal
presentation over, Rebecca became visibly less nervous.

“Are there any other telltale signs?” Shelly
asked.

Rebecca took a deep breath. “Typically good
spirits remain to oppose Soul Snatchers and protect people from evil. That is
kind of why I’m concerned about our releasing the spirit of the doctor last
night, he may have been providing balance.”

“Balance?” Bryce said. “Dude, there have
been all kinds of haunts here. What kind of balance is that?”

“Well, no one has ever been killed or
injured on the property,” Rebecca said. “At least since it closed down.”

“True dat.” He adjusted his belt buckle so
that BryceCam panned to Rebecca.

Really? Zach thought. Could this clown be
responsible for a conspiracy to taint evidence? Zach knew that as he continued
to be distracted by these ruminations, time was running out on the opportunity
to solve Rosewood’s haunting.

“How many suicides can a Soul Snatcher be
responsible for?” Zach asked.

Rebecca scoured her notes. “Well, I mean,
there’s no...set number,” she said. “The highest
reported
case
apparently involved a Soul Snatcher which was exorcised from a castle in
Germany in 1987. Throughout the centuries, over thirty suicides were attributed
to the entity.”

“Earlier today, Wendy told me that there
were thirty seven suicides here at Rosewood between 1899 and 1903.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Thirty seven in
four years? That’s an unbelievable rate. Soul Snatchers are often discovered
after four or five. Ones who have claimed ten lives are extremely powerful.”

“So, if this thing claimed the majority of
those suicides,” Shelly interjected, “it’s pretty safe to say that we’re
dealing with the most powerful Soul Snatcher ever.”

“I could stay,” Ray said. “Really.”

He was nearly fully dressed for his bouncer
job. In the low ceiling of their tent, he sat on his rolled up sleeping bag and
put on socks.

“Nah, we’ll be alright,” Zach said.
“Besides, you put in, what? Four, five hours of video review today?”

“Screw you. I’ve been at it since 5 AM.”

Zach looked at his watch. It was going on 3
PM. “Okay, so a
couple
more than five hours.”

Ray saluted with his middle finger and left
it extended. He smiled but only for a second. “You sure you’re going to be
okay?”

“We’re—”

“I didn’t mean the plural ‘you,’ or the
‘royal’ you.”

“I know what you meant and I appreciate it.”

“You better.” Adorned in a white tuxedo
shirt and black dress slacks, Ray looked pretty spiffy. Not that many patrons
of
Wine, Women & Thong
would be noticing him unless they decided to
harass one of the dancers. “So why the long face, buddy?”

Zach grunted. “I’m pretty sure that
Matthew’s one of the guys tampering evidence.”

Ray paused midway through tying his shoe.
“Yeah, I could see that.”

“One of our team?” Zach whispered.

Ray leaned forward and spoke in hushed
tones. “Yes, but show business is cutthroat. You held him back from being an
investigator. Maybe he thought this would somehow benefit his career.”

“I can’t believe you’re being so
matter-of-fact about this.”

“He tried to manufacture drama on a TV show.
It’s not like he killed someone.”

Ray always had the ability to put things in
perspective.

“No, he’s not a murderer, but how much of
this other evidence we’re uncovering is planted or tainted?”

“Don’t get me wrong...” Fully attired, Ray
shoved the rest of his stuff in his gym bag. “If I were you, I’d be pissed. You
want me to kick his ass?”

“No,” Zach said and then added, “Not until I
find out who he’s working with.”

“Prolly Rico, or Bryce...or Shelly.”

“Shelly?” He’d said it way too loudly. If
someone were lurking around the tent, they may have heard him. “Let’s talk on
your way out.”

Ray grabbed his gym bag; Zach nabbed his
friend’s sleeping bag. They exited the tent and headed down Rosewood’s
driveway.

“So why would you suspect Shelly?”

“It would seem more logical if both parties
were from the same team. Of any
XPI
, she’d be...I mean, Angel is too
loyal, I don’t see the Turk having a motive. Rebecca or Wendy? Nah.”

“I guess I agree with you on that,” Zach
said.

“I mean, I initially suspected Bryce or Rico
and Pierre. I suppose it could be Matthew and one of the Demon Hunters.” He
shrugged. “It would just be way harder to coordinate.”

“They knew about the investigation about a
week before us.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just found out.”

“Well, that would give them the opportunity
to try and set something up. Maybe Bryce wanted to ensure drama for the
ratings? Maybe Rico has an axe to grind that we don’t know about? It’s not like
those guys are the most ethical anyway. Don’t forget about that frozen-beer-can
cold spot.”

“Trust me, I haven’t.”

They’d reached the front gate. The security
guard, this one an elderly gentleman, pried himself from the car to open the
lock for them. A few people stood outside. One of them, a tall middle-aged man,
whistled and waved at Zach who sheepishly returned the wave. It appeared Ray
would be able to leave without a media swarm descending on him.

“Hey,” Ray said. “I made copies of those
video stoppages. I’m taking one copy with me and I left a DVD in with your
clothes...just in case, ya’ know?”

“Thanks.” Zach handed him his sleeping bag.

Now that both of Ray’s hands were full and
he couldn’t defend himself, Zach whisked his index finger into the oil on his
forehead and, before Ray knew what was happening, wiped it on his friend’s
brow.

“What’s this?”

“Holy anointing oil from Monsignor Macginty.
It’ll keep you safe.”

“You saw him? How’s that old coot doing?”

“Good. Good. He doesn’t exactly approve of
your night job.”

“That guy,” Ray said, shaking his head.
“Once you tell him something, he never lets you live it down.”

Zach’s own experience with the priest
differed, but he said nothing.

“Anyways,” Ray said. “You know where I’ll be
if you need me. The club is only twenty minutes away. I can be here right
quick.”

“I know. Thanks pal-o-mine. Either way, I’ll
call you later and fill you in on the evening’s activities.”

“Okay. My shift ends at three,” Ray said. “I
should be back here before three-thirty.”

Holy oil or not, Zach couldn’t suppress the
inexplicable feeling that Ray wouldn’t be completing his shift.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

As Zach meandered back up the Rosewood
driveway, Rebecca and Angel were headed out in her gray Toyota. Angel was
behind the wheel and stopped alongside him.

“You two look low key.”

“We’ve got the equipment in the trunk and
are going to drive around for a while to make sure no one sees us going over to
the Foster’s,” Angel said.

“Good call. Hey, Rebecca, I want to know
what’s going on over there. Call me as soon as she tells you what happened last
night.”

“Will do,” she called from the passenger
seat.

Zach turned back to Angel. “You set up those
whistling EMF-EVPs where I asked?”

“Absolutely, boss.” Angel smiled. “Oh, I had
one extra and put it on the main staircase in the lobby.”

“Why there?”

Angel chuckled. “I want to be sure the guys
at the control center are warned if there is a ghost nearby,” he said with mock
concern.

“You hope there’s an EMF spike on those
stairs at some point, and it scares the
bejesus
out of them...”

Feigning innocence, Angel shrugged.

“I guess,” Zach said, “rank doth have its
privilege.”

With waves and nervous smiles, they
recommenced their journey down the driveway. Zach proceeded in the opposite
direction.

He needed to talk to Sara and didn’t have to
search long for her. She was leaning up against the
XPI
van, apparently
waiting for him.

“I haven’t seen much of you today,” she
said. “Everything okay?”

“Not really. We need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s no one around?” Zach craned his
neck and checked both sides of the van.

“Not that I know of.”

“I need this to stay between you and me.”

“Sure.” She brushed hair away from her face.

“Sara, I need you to promise.”

“Okay, okay.” She raised her right hand as
though being sworn into office. “I promise. What’s up?”

“Not all the evidence in this case is
legitimate. I, actually Ray, found something on the videos that proves two
people conspired to plant that peach juice in room 217. I learned that room
isn’t even the one that the glass-eating guy killed himself in.”

“Do you know who it is?” she asked. “Who
planted the evidence?”

“I have my suspicions, but I want to keep it
to myself until I have concrete proof. I’d appreciate it if you kept your eyes
peeled for any suspicious behavior and let me know right away.”

She put her hand on her hip and appeared
ready to argue.

Zach preempted further debate. “Sara, that’s
all I’m willing to tell you right now.” He said it firmly.

“Okay, alright. Fine,” she said.

“And Sara?” Zach had long pondered how to
word this. Sara’s marijuana smoking was so out of character for her that he
knew she’d be defensive when it was brought up. “I’m not judging you or
anything, but could you
please
refrain from any herbal-like
‘supplements’
tonight?”