The Traveler: Book 5, The Eddie McCloskey Paranormal Mystery Series (The Unearthed) (4 page)

Rariville was a town of about twenty thousand people that reminded Eddie of where he’d grown up. Parts were heavily wooded, while other areas were pretty built up. Housing developments with different styles sat next to each other. The town was half-old and half-new which suggested different periods of growth as opposed to one long steady trend line.

Christie kept one eye on her GPS as she drove, which Eddie took to mean she wasn’t from around here. With her Asian ancestry, he didn’t figure she would be. This was close to coal-mining and steel territory. Mostly German, Polish, Irish, Scottish folks out here, he figured.

He was trying to read her. She was friendly and treated him with a respect he’d never experienced with cops before. But she was also very buttoned up. Somehow she struck that careful balance between warm and professional.

Eddie said, “You know about my background, right?”

“Your criminal background? Yes.”

Eddie smiled. “Most cops care.”

“Most cops aren’t like me.”

“I’ll say.”

He laid it on pretty thick but she pretended not to notice.

“
Sooooo
…Tell me about the second victim,” Eddie said.

“Myrna Fellov.”

Fell off?
It reminded him of one of those bad puns his dad had been so fond of. Ben-Dover. His sister, Eileen-Dover. He wisely kept the jokes to himself, though. Christie seemed okay but he didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

Christie said, “Seventy years old, recently widowed. Very similar 9-1-1 call. She claimed a ghost had entered the house.”

“Any connection between Stahl and Fellov?”

She took her eyes off the road for one second to glance at him.

He said, “Did I do something wrong?”

She pulled to the side of the road and put the car in PARK.

“It was my idea to bring you out here. My partner wasn’t thrilled though. I went around him and got it approved.”

He was shocked. She was young which likely made her partner the senior on the team, so what she’d done had taken a lot of balls and had earned her at least one enemy within the department.

“You went around your boss?”

She shook her head. “We’re on the same level.”

There was more to the story, but she wasn’t sharing.

Christie said, “He’s not thrilled that you’re here. He won’t want to share information with you.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

She nodded and seemed like she wanted to say more, but didn’t.

“Tough break on the partner,” he said. “Another reason why I work alone: no assholes to deal with.”

“We couldn’t police without partners.” She straightened up in her seat, back to Ms. Professional again. “Anyway, that question you asked is something he might take exception to.”

“What about you?” Eddie asked.

“I brought you out here because I thought you could help. I want your feedback and if you’re asking me that question it means you need the information.”

“It would help.”

“I need to know I can trust you.” She turned just her head to look at him. “I’m out on a limb here.”

“You can trust me, Christie.”

“If this blows up on me…”

“I’m a guy that gets the job done. I’m going to help you.”

She studied him for a moment. “I believe you.”

She got back on the road. So far they’d passed two or three cars at most. Quiet night. Eddie waited for her to answer the original question.

“So far we don’t see
any
connection between Stahl and Fellov, except for their reporting a ghost,” she said.

“Weren’t related, never worked together, she wasn’t a teacher at his school growing up?”

“No.”

Eddie rolled that around. “He didn’t treat her at the hospital?”

Christie shook her head no. “He was a medical coder. He didn’t provide care.”

Eddie didn’t know what a coder was but let it go. “Did Stahl lose anybody recently? A girlfriend, a long-time friend, family?”

“Not that we know of, but we’ll look into it.”

Eddie said, “Same thing with Fellov.”

Christie nodded. “What are you thinking?”

She made a left into a development of new single family homes.

“Nothing has jumped out at me.” Eddie shifted in his seat. “You’ve heard of near-death experiences, right?”

“Sure.” Christie drove slowly through the development, as if not wanting to wake anyone up.

“Everybody reports the same experience.”

“A tunnel with light at the end of it.”

“You know why?”

“Tell me.”

“Because that’s what people hear happens. Everybody sees a tunnel with light at the end of it. So when they have their own NDE, their brain constructs the same scene for them.”

“What is your wider point?”

“Myrna Fellov experienced
something
strange. She’s older so she was likely on a number of meds. Maybe they were out of whack. Maybe she’s got early onset dementia. Maybe a lot of things. But she sees or hears something, her brain isn’t working properly and her mind creates this ghost because
she just heard about another guy dying after seeing a ghost
.”

Christie made a right and pulled to the curb. Eddie saw the police tape on the door to the end unit across the street.

The detective killed the engine. “That doesn’t work.”

“Why not?” Eddie asked.

“Because we didn’t release the details of Stahl’s phone call to the public. Only a handful of people know he reported a ghost. Myrna Fellov was not one of them.”

Eddie pursed his lips.

Christie said, “Which means she independently invented the same event.”

“Or actually experienced it too,” Eddie said.

***

“Do you need help with any of that?” Christie asked as Eddie opened his duffel bag. The ghost box sat on top of his other stuff. He chuckled and nudged it aside. He wouldn’t be caught dead using that in front of Christie. It would be hard enough to use the other gadgets he’d brought.

“I’m going to ask you to hold the digital recorder.”

“How does it work?”

She wasn’t nervous. Just curious. Eddie, on the other hand, felt jittery. He hadn’t been this anxious going dark in a long time.

Anxious
.

His chest tightened and part of him wished he’d followed the therapist’s advice to see a psychiatrist and get a script for something. He didn’t feel right.

“It’s more art than science. Basically we go in there and try to elicit a response.”

“How do we do that?”

“A number of different ways, but you’re going to let me do that.”

“What are the chances you find something?” Christie said.

“How many people have been in and out of here since Stahl’s death?”

“At least thirty.”

He zipped his duffel bag shut and closed the rear door of the cruiser. He noticed that Christie had tucked her sport coat behind the gun riding her hip. She could draw faster that way.

She saw him eyeing the gun. “If a ghost attacks, what can we do?”

Eddie thought about it. “Run like hell.”

“Are you serious?”

“Afraid so.”

***

Stahl’s house was ten years old and twenty-five hundred square feet. Eddie wondered how the man, living alone, could have afforded a place like this. He’d have to look into what certified coders were. Obviously they knew something he didn’t.

Christie shut the door and they were alone in the foyer together. The air was stale. Eddie didn’t have to look long to find signs of police work. They had dusted for prints out here and along the door.

“No forced entry?” he asked.

“No forced entry.”

“Any evidence outside the house of a prowler?”

“It’s mostly grass and we didn’t see anything. There’s a flowerbed on one side of the front but no footprints.”

Eddie nodded and took out his K2 meter. It was a small boxlike device. Christie watched him with curiosity.

She said, “We had to break down the door to get in. Back door was locked too.”

Eddie grimaced. “Classic locked room mystery.”

“What are you doing with that?”

Eddie swapped the old batteries in the K2 for new ones. Protocol. Old batteries could give you bum signals. The best way to ensure the batteries were good was to use new ones every time. He had a container full of half-used double As back home.

“This is the K2. It measures changes in the atmosphere. According to most theories, ghosts cause changes to electromagnetic fields.” Back in the day, Eddie used to turn off all major appliances in a house before going dark. He didn’t bother to do that anymore because over time he’d gotten good results anyway. He approached her. “And here’s the digital recorder. Hit RECORD when I ask you to.”

She took the small box from him. “Is this for white noise?”

“A-plus, detective. We have an audio record of our investigation and yes, it could pick up white noise.”

“1:18AM. This is Eddie McCloskey. Detective Christie of the Rariville Police Department is with me. We are in the Stahl residence.”

Christie held the digital recorder out in front of her, like he’d showed her and followed his lead as he made his way through the first floor. When they came to the living room, Eddie stopped in the doorway and motioned for the detective to come closer.

“We are about to enter the living room. Detective Christie, would you describe what you believe happened in this room?”

She stepped into the room. Eddie saw the outline on the floor between the coffee table and the recliner. Stahl had died in here. There were no signs of a struggle. The furniture was in place.

“This is Detective Christie. We believe that Mr. Stahl was on his computer when he heard a noise. He got up to investigate and dialed 9-1-1 to report that he’d seen a ghost. He described it as blue in color and horribly disfigured. He reported that it was
floating toward him.
We immediately responded to the call but when we arrived, Mr. Stahl was already in cardiac arrest. EMTs attempted to resuscitate him in the ambulance but were unsuccessful and he was pronounced dead on arrival at Rariville Hospital.”

Right where he worked, Eddie thought. The ultimate indignity.

“Detective, do you believe Mr. Stahl was murdered?”

She thought before answering. “We are exploring all possible leads.”

Eddie waited to see if the question and answer provoked a response. Nothing.

“Do you believe Mr. Stahl died of natural causes?”

“At this time we are not certain.”

“Mr. Stahl, can you let us know if you’re here?”

He waited, his eyes taking in the room. Normally he played it slow, preferring entities to spontaneously communicate without being led because it led to “truer” results. But this job was different. He was here to help the police catch a killer. So he broke protocol because speed was a necessity.

Christie’s eyes took in the room and finally settled on him.

No response.

“Mr. Stahl, you might not be able to communicate with us as you once did. Instead you might have to make noise differently. If you can, please do so.”

He waited. And waited. That was the job. Just waiting. Hoping for that rare hit, which usually was ambiguous at best.

“How long does this usually take?” Christie said.

She had said it politely but he sensed the underlying tension in her voice. He’d read the statistics. The longer the investigation took, the less chance they had of catching the killer.

“All night,” Eddie said. “And even then we might not get anything.”

She nodded. Accepted the information. Analyzed it. But didn’t share what she was thinking.

Time to try the K2.

“Mr. Stahl, this meter might be able to detect your presence. All you have to do is move near it.”

Again they waited. Almost every investigation was like this. They left the room for a few minutes and came back to start afresh. He asked closed-ended questions, requiring yes-or-no responses. No hits. Nothing. Christie excused herself for a moment. He kept going. Still nothing. When she came back she looked at him expectantly. Her eyes asking the question. He just shook his head.

Eddie said, “Is there anyone else in this house, besides Mr. Stahl?”

No response.

Time for a more aggressive approach. He moved out of the spot he was in and addressed a different part of the room. “I don’t believe Mr. Stahl died of natural causes. I think a ghost killed him.”

There were five lights across the top of the K2 meter. The first one blinked.

Christie’s eyes widened and her hand went to her hip. Eddie motioned for her to keep away from her gun. As far as he knew ghosts couldn’t be harmed physically but still they would interpret Christie’s move as hostile. He needed to build a relationship.

She took the hint and moved her hand off her hip.

“One blink for yes, and two for no. Did a ghost kill Mr. Stahl?”

No response.

“Did you kill him?”

No response.

“Did you kill Mr. Stahl?”

No response.

“Did another entity kill Mr. Stahl?”

No response.

Ghosts usually didn’t lie. They were beyond justice and social judgment, so they had no reason to. Either this ghost was the exception, or it had a weak connection to this plane and Eddie had already lost him or her.

Christie said, “Could there be more than one ghost in the house?”

Eddie nodded. “Long odds, but possible.”

“What do we do?”

“We—”

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

***

Detective Christie threw open the front door.

“Back up! Right now!”

The woman who’d been pounding on the front door had snow white hair that hadn’t been cut in a long time and thick glasses that bugged her eyes. Her black shirt billowed and her black pants billowed even more. A backpack was strapped across her shoulders. She held a K2 meter in one hand, a digital recorder was clipped to her belt, and in her other hand she held a ghost box of all things.

“Whoa, Miss Police Woman, I’m here to help.”

Christie backed her away from the door and forced her onto the lawn. Eddie stepped out and watched from the steps.

Christie’s hand rode her hip. “This is a crime scene. What are you doing here?”

“Finishing up my work.”

“
Finishing
?”

“Yes. I wanted to…” The kooky woman looked past Christie and at Eddie. “Hold on, are you him?”

“Him who?” Christie kept her eyes on the woman.

“You’re Eddie McCloskey, aren’t you? Oh my God! It’s you! This is unbelievable.”

Eddie was confused. And embarrassed. And he sort of recognized her, though he didn’t know from where.

“I follow your work! I know all about the trial and the other Pennsylvania job and oh-my-God are you here because something paranormal is going on?”

Christie stepped between the woman and Eddie. “Ma’am, you’re talking to me right now. What is your name?”

“Daria Snow. I’m in charge of the local chapter.”

“Local chapter of what?”

Eddie approached them. “Local chapter of the Mid-Atlantic Ghost Hunter Society, is what she means.”

“Oh-my-God, you remember me? I mean,
us
?”

“Sure I do,” Eddie half-lied. He’d probably traded emails with her or maybe even met her at a conference. He offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Snow. But I’m afraid we have business here—”

“Police business. So you’re going to leave,” Christie said.

“But I was here last night.”

Christie shook her head. “And right now you need to be
not here.
This is a crime scene.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Daria said. “I just saw some lights on and thought somebody was inside. I figured it was the police and I want to share some information.”

“Information?” Eddie asked.

“Oh-my-God yes. They spoke through the ghost box last night. All four of them.”

“Four?” Eddie said.

“There are four entities in there. They all spoke to me last night.”

“Ma’am, did you go in this house last night?”

“Oh-my-God no. It’s a crime scene.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Eddie said, “So how did you…?”

“I set up
outside
and spent most of the night in the backyard. I always try to establish a rapport on first night then come back with the hard questions on second night. It works much better that way.” She looked sheepishly at him. “I mean, no offense, Mr. McCloskey. I know you don’t always play by the rules, and oh-my-God you’ve been successful doing it your way of course.”

“It’s Eddie.”

She beamed a smile he could have felt all the way in New Jersey.

“What hard questions did you ask?” Eddie said.

Daria’s eyes couldn’t stay in one place. Being an ex-addict, Eddie had good addict radar and knew she wasn’t one. She was just hopped up on adrenaline, and life.

Daria said, “Like, why did Mr. Stahl die of cardiac arrest?”

Christie said, “What makes you think Mr. Stahl died of cardiac arrest?”

Daria’s lips wobbled. “First, I’m a psychic and medium and that’s just what I felt.”

Eddie and Christie waited for a
Second
, but Daria didn’t continue.

Eddie said, “Did you know Mr. Stahl?”

“Oh no. I just knew that he’d died and that everybody was saying natural causes.”

Daria realized she’d misspoken. “I mean, uh, cardiac arrest.”

Christie folded her arms. “How exactly did you know that, since we haven’t released the details of his death yet?”

“Mr. Stahl appeared in my dreams two nights ago to tell me he’d been murdered but that nobody would think he was murdered.”

Christie shot Eddie a look. “Okay, Ms. Snow. You and I need to have a serious conversation.”

“Okay, look, I didn’t want to get anybody in trouble. But the truth is, I have, uh, a police scanner in my house. I leave it running all the time.”

“You leave it running all the time?” Christie said.

Eddie was doing his best not to laugh. This woman was
out there.

“Just in case.”

Eddie wanted to ask,
in case of what?
But he refrained.

Daria said, “My brother gave it to me. I mean, it was a regift actually, and I know they’re illegal in Pennsylvania.”

Eddie was pretty sure police scanners were legal in Pennsylvania but kept quiet.

“What did you hear on the air?” Christie asked.

“Somebody said…” She looked to Eddie, as if for guidance. He kept his face neutral. “Somebody said
ghost
.”

Eddie figured Christie was livid about some probably fresh recruit talking big over the radio. But she kept herself composed.

“Ms. Snow, you need to come with me.”

Eddie jumped in. “What did the four spirits tell you through the ghost box?”

Christie stopped walking and shot him a look. He knew he was overstepping but had to ask. She clearly wasn’t happy about that.

Daria said, “A lot of things.”

Again Eddie waited for her to expound. And waited.

Christie said, “Tell Mr. McCloskey what they said.”

“Oh-my-God they were Chatty Cathies. But the thing they repeated the most was
scared
.”

***

It was almost 3:20AM by the time Christie met Eddie back in the conference room.

“Any chance Daria Snow killed Stahl?” Eddie asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Christie looked tired. He could just make out some crow’s feet around her eyes.

“Stranger things have happened.”

Christie sat ramrod straight in the chair across from him. “She has an alibi.”

“How good is it?”

“She lives with somebody. The guy was actually listening to the scanner and heard somebody say ghost. He woke her up to tell her.”

“Wow.”

Christie picked up an old cup of coffee, then thought better of it and put it down. “I assume you want to take another run at Stahl’s house?”

“Yes. And Fellov’s tomorrow night.”

Christie nodded. “The ME confirmed. Heart failure brought on my massive amounts of adrenaline. She died the same way Stahl did.”

“Baskerville effect.”

They sat in silence. Outside, Eddie heard people talking in the hallway. Police stations were always busy. Christie looked tired but also like she didn’t need to sleep. Like she was ready to forego rest till they had this solved.

“So we have a ghost serial killer,” Eddie said.

“Don’t say that to anybody else.”

He smiled. “Everybody will put two and two together once it gets out I’m here. And for some reason I think Daria will have trouble keeping it a secret.”

Christie closed her eyes and pinched the skin between them. “I told her to keep it quiet. But if someone said it on the air, I’m sure others heard.”