The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2) (3 page)

Kindle
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celebrated like he’d just become a father.

Eddie slid out of the booth and headed for the door. Time to get out of Dodge.

As he approached the front door it opened and Ana breezed in. She was so tiny, two of her could have fit through the doorway. Seeing Eddie she stopped short and nervously fidgeted.

“Eddie … I’m glad I caught you … can we talk for a minute?”  She gave him a nervous smile and puppy-dog eyes.

She looked apologetic, which meant Eddie’s suspicions were correct: Ana had somehow gotten wind of Eddie’s past and tipped Kindler off.  But how? He hadn’t told anybody. There was only one way she could have known.

Before he could formulate a response, he felt Kindler’s hand on his shoulder.

“She just wants to have a word, Ed.” Kindler the diplomat.

Eddie shrugged off Kindler’s hand and headed for the door just as Lenny the Drunk came to and nearly fell out of his seat.

“Eddie, hold up.”

Lenny the Drunk wobbled over and grabbed Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’m indebted to you, sir.” Lenny let out a burp that almost caught fire. “I wanted to thank you for sticking up for an old fool last night.”

Eddie waved him off. “It was nothing.”

“It was to me, Edward. I won’t forget it.”

“Forget it, Lenny.”

Eddie exited the bar and stepped into the cold and heard Ana hot on his trail. He was half-drunk and full-angry. Never mind she’d didn’t realize how much trouble he was in.

He noticed Whitmore had exited the bar and was staring at him through the windshield of his patrol car. The last thing Eddie needed was a Dewey. His only alternative was to ask Ana to drive him home. He didn’t really want to talk to her but reason trumped anger so he turned to her.

“Ana, I’m more than a little pissed at you right now but I need a ride.”

She approached him tentatively, like she didn’t trust him and that tugged at his heart. She was so young, adorable really. She had no idea the trouble she’d caused him.

“You read the book, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Come on, give me a lift.”

* * * *

Her car was, like her, petite. Unlike her it was old and rust adorned it like acne. She had a death grip on the steering wheel and drove cautiously like she was trying to pass her driver’s test. All the while stealing sidelong glances at him.

She could no longer stay quiet. “I came to say I was sorry. I was so caught up in the excitement of this thing, and then I find out the person working next to me is an expert in all this paranormal stuff …”

“Why didn’t you just come to me? Why go to Kindler?”

It took her a long time to get it out. “I’m just a little yokel and you’re this mysterious guy who’s been places and done and seen things I could only dream of. I was intimidated by you. I’m sorry, Ed.”

“Call me Eddie, alright? Only my brother called me Ed.”

At the mention of his brother, her mouth sagged into a pitying frown.  She had read the book so she knew about Tim’s murder. The mere mention of his brother darkened him, made him extremely sad and murderously furious at the same time.

A couple bends in the road later, she said, “Okay, I’m not stalking you but I know where you live. It’s a small town and everybody knows everybody’s business.”

Eddie nodded as he did the math in his head.  Ten minutes to the house. Five minutes to talk to his boss, Victor. Fifteen minutes to pack. Another fifteen to get back to his car, hopefully via Ana. With luck, Whitmore wouldn’t be skulking in the shadows and he’d be tail lights, off to another wondrous adventure someplace else that didn’t involve the past or the paranormal.

Ana turned the music down. “Eddie, this is Kindler’s thing. This is his town. He’s the guy with the juice. Once I found out who you were, I had to tell him.”

“Ana, you can’t investigate while constantly looking over your shoulder for approval. Your results will be skewed.”

“I know, I just got ahead of myself…”

She slowed and pulled into the short drive of the house he was staying in. He occupied the second floor, which had a kitchen and a bathroom that wouldn’t have fit on an airplane.

Fortunately the owner of the house was an absentee landlord, so Eddie didn’t have anybody in his business.

She parked and they got out.

“Can I come in? I feel real bad about this,” Ana said.

“Yeah. You’re going to drive me back to the bar anyway.”

Insid
e
Ana peeled off her jacket, revealing a hodgepodge of thrift store clothing: a mustard colored t-shirt with the Think Global Buy Local slogan Victor the boss always parroted on the phone; a thermal under the t-shirt; grey stretch pants that hugged all the right places; knee-high striped socks; and worn, unlaced sneakers that threatened to trip her every step.

Eddie didn’t usually go for the hipster look because it always seemed so affected. But it worked for Ana.

She tossed her purse and keys on the living room table like she lived there. Eddie couldn’t help checking her out while she wore a hole in the carpet by pacing.

“Eddie, you gotta believe me, I had no idea Mr. Kindler would involve the police in this …”

“Victor still at the store?” Eddie asked.

“He left when I did.”

“Got his phone number?”

“I’ve got his cell.” Ana bent and pulled her phone out of her sock. Of course she kept it there. She read off Victor’s number.

Eddie interrupted her. “I don’t have a phone. Mind if I use yours?”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“No, Ana. I don’t have a phone. Can I use yours?”

She rolled her eyes and thrust a defiant hip forward. “I’ve said sorry several times now. If you were a gentleman, you’d accept my apology. I don’t see what the big deal is, Eddie.”

“I’m no gentleman. And you have no idea how much shit I’m in.”

She tapped her hip impatiently.

“Okay, apology accepted. Now can I use your phone, please?”

She tossed him the phone. “His number’s highlighted.”

Victor answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, Ana.”

“Victor, it’s me, Eddie.”

“Oh ... hey.  Is everything alright?”

Eddie watched Ana tiptoe toward his sleeping bag and stoop to examine his pile of books.

Eddie knew to keep the lie simple. “Something’s come up. My …”

He stopped himself. That was the old Eddie about to lie.

“Vic, look, there’s something I never told you.”

“You’re an ex-con.”

Vic hadn’t asked for his background information to do a screening when he’d come on. “How did you …”

“I did my checking, just didn’t let you know.”

“And you took me on anyway?”

“Somebody had to give Jean Valjean a second chance, or there’d be no story.”

“Vic, I don’t know what to say.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Marty Kindler. He’s squeezing me to help him. I don’t want to.”

“So don’t.”

“I have to leave town, that’s the only way.”

Victor hesitated and his voice flattened. “Look, Eddie, I can get you two weeks’ pay.”

“This was my third week—”

“And I don’t know if you’re telling me the whole truth. I like you, I gave you a second chance, and I may be an old hippie but this isn’t my first rodeo.”

Eddie bit his tongue. “I appreciate that, Vic.”

Ana crept up behind him and whispered. “What are you doing?”

The smell of her distracted him. So clean that smell, faint and flowery. Probably her shampoo. He shot her a mind-your-biz look.

To Victor, he said, “Could I come by and get it? I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

Victor gave Eddie his address and they hung up. He was so close to getting out.

Eddie tried handing the phone back to Ana, but she crossed her arms and wouldn’t take it.

“What are you doing? Why did you lie to Marty and say you were going to do this?”

She looked so cute when she was angry.

“I’ve gotta hit the old dusty trail, Ana. Thanks for the phone.”

He offered her the phone again but she wouldn’t accept it so he laid it on the table next to her purse and went about gathering up his possessions. He could pack faster than a homesick freshman.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “You could help us.”

Eddie said nothing and started packing his books. He had more books than clothing.

The whole time he felt Ana’s eyes burning a hole in his back. The second duffle bag he stuffed to the gills with his books. When finished, he left both bags on the floor and went into the tiny bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush and shaving gear.

“I said I was sorry,” she called after him.

He came out of the bathroom holding his toiletry kit and packed that away. Then he grabbed the last book off the kitchen counter. It was the one that had started this chain of events. Eddie held it up, cover forward, so she could see it.

“When’d you realize?” he asked. How long were the odds she’d have read the book and made the connection to him?

“Yesterday. I read it cover to cover on my day off. You were in some of the pictures in the middle of the book.”

Eddi
e
frowned. Long odds. Very long. He looked at the cover of the book again. The dust jacket was getting a little ratty, the spine cracked. He’d always thought the title heavy-handed:

The Unearthed.

Five years ago, Eddie and his brother Tim had investigated a cluster of paranormal events happening in a house in their home town. The investigation had turned up a lot of good finds, though Eddie and Tim had butted heads repeatedly throughout. Then … things had gone horribly wrong. Something they could have never anticipated happened, ending in the murder of two: a teenaged boy and Eddie’s own brother.

Eddie shook his head at the nightmarish memories. A local author, Evan Ronan, had gone to work on the non-fiction account of their investigation and its aftermath. The result was the book Eddie now held in his hands.

He packed the book. There was nothing else to collect. He cinched the sack and hefted it over his shoulder. “What made you buy this book?”

Ana’s shoulders tensed. “I saw you reading it. I got interested.”

“Why?”

“You’re always reading. At the register, or on break. But one day I saw you reading that book in your car. I wondered why. You always brought your books inside, but not that one.”

Eddie nodded. It had been stupid to bring the book to work, even if he’d only read it in the car. He wouldn’t repeat that mistake ever again.

“Give me a lift back to the bar.”

She opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. The words died somewhere in her tiny throat.

She nodded.

Eddie scanned the room one more time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He’d never be coming back. This was sayonara.

H
e
slung his bags into the back of her VW then got in. Ana started the engine and put it in gear.

“Can I ask why you’re leaving?” The engine hummed, but she kept her foot on the brake.

There was no point in lying to her. She’d read the book. “I’ll tell you if you tell me something first.”

Her head went sideways but her eyes stayed on him. “Okay.”

“Who brought the weed to the party?”

Her eyebrows molded together. “Why?”

He gave her a look. “Was it your boyfriend, what’s-his-name?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t Jimbo. It was his friend, Tony. He’s the guy that always brings.”

He nodded and filed that way just in case. “I’m leaving because they’re about to slap a bullshit parole violation on me. I’m leaving because I don’t like cops pushing me around. I’m leaving because Kindler’s claims sound like bullshit. And I’m leaving because if I do this it might get noticed by a man that wants to kill me.”

She did a double-take. Then, slowly put it together. “Sean McKenna? That kid’s father?”

Eddie gave her a grim smile. “He’s already tried to kill me, at least once.”

“When?”

He took his eyes off her and put them on the thin strip of road ahead. “Ana, I have to leave. I’ve still gotta stop at Victor’s.”

She stared at his profile a full ten seconds before she took her foot off the brake. She made a left and backtracked to the bar. They rode in silence the whole way, though Eddie could almost hear all the questions bouncing around in her head.

She pulled into the bar’s gravel lot. Eddie didn’t see Whitmore’s cruiser anywhere. The lights in the bar were still on. George was being optimistic if he thought he’d get any more business tonight.

Eddie opened his door. The cold night seeped through his pea coat.

Ana watched him with sad eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? This could be big.”

“I’m sure.” He hit the lever so the passenger seat tipped forward then reached into the back for his bags.

“Don’t you believe in fate?” she asked.

“No.”

He pulled the first bag out.

“Eddie …”

“You read the damned book, so you know why I don’t want any part of this, Ana.”

She turned away from him and put her hands at ten and two on the wheel again. Eddie pulled the second bag out.

He was about to walk away without saying anything. He should have. But out of the corner of his eye he saw Ana swipe the back of her hand across her cheek.

The passenger seat popped back into place. Eddie had his hand on the door. He should have just closed it. But then Ana sniffled and he knew she was crying.

He took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, Ana. I wish I could help you but I’ve got my own problems. Good luck and work hard. If something’s there, you’ll find it.”

They were all meaningless platitudes.

Ana buried her face in her hands for a moment. She wiped under her eyes and looked back up. Why was she so upset? She hardly knew him, so it wasn’t about Eddie leaving.

It had to be about the paranormal activity. But why would she take it this personally?

Then she turned to face him and put on a brave smile.

“I think she’s trying to tell me something,” Ana said. “That’s why I’m so excited.”

Eddie was lost. “Who’s trying to tell you something?”

“Tessa.”

The name didn’t register, but he figured she was referring to the girl who’d died years ago. It was the preferred theory of the locals, that Tessa was the one causing all this activity. That old cliche of the vengeful spirit wreaking havoc against those who wronged her.

Eddie was starting to doubt Ana’s sanity. Why would Tessa try to communicate with Ana specifically? And why would she—

“She was your sister.”