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

Nine

 

Eddie followed the directions to his motel. The room seemed nice enough, but all the same Eddie didn’t want to take a black light to it.

He crawled into bed and his mind kept harping on Christie. She was something else. Completely unreadable. Sharp as a paper cut. Damned pretty. No, beautiful. He imagined what she was like outside of work. Probably woke up at 5:00AM to exercise every day. Probably ate healthy. Probably had everything in her life ordered just right but at the same time wasn’t obsessive-compulsive. She got things right. She was sure of herself and knew who she was, which meant she knew what she liked and didn’t. He’d been with women like that. They were usually sensual and the most fun in the bedroom.

His thoughts drifted into fantasy territory when
they
appeared.

The crowd was armed with knives, machetes, and spears. Their eyes savage. They marched toward him across a parking lot. Except this time, Eddie didn’t have a gun and he was alone. He turned to run but slammed into a brick wall right behind him.

The wall stretched to both horizons.

The crowd started running, their metal glinting in the sunlight. Their eyes fierce. Their mouths curled in ugly grins. A shout rose up, then the rest of the crowd joined in.

Eddie put his fingers between bricks, wedged one toe along a mortar line, and climbed.

Or tried to.

He couldn’t gain purchase.

The crowd was close now. He could
smell
them.

Eddie tried to climb again. He dug his nails between bricks and put his foot up and pulled again.

The nails on both hands bent back and he fell away from the brick wall. Then they were on him…

Eddie woke with a start. His heart thundered.

The motel room was dark and quiet. His internal clock told him it was early, and he confirmed that by checking his cell phone: 4:57AM.

He turned in the bed and put his feet on the floor. The room was too small. He only needed to take a few steps and he’d be on the other side of it. He had to open a window. He couldn’t breathe.

Eddie’s chest kept getting tighter, like all his organs were pressing together. He reached the window and pulled the heavy curtains apart. It took him a moment to find the latch and pull it open.

He put his mouth to the opening and sucked in the cool March air. It tasted fresh and new, like it had never been breathed before. His chest felt better. Another breath. His heart slowed from pounding to tapping.

Better.

“We need to talk.”

Eddie threw himself away from the window and hit the ground like he’d been spooked by incoming fire. He stayed like that for a minute.

“…very important that he knows that. I’ve told him myself…”

There was a man outside talking, but Eddie didn’t hear anyone else. The guy must have been on his cell phone.

Why was there a man talking just outside his room at five in the morning?

Slowly he went to the window and nudged the curtain aside. He could just make the man out. He was bald and wore a black jacket and had his back to Eddie.

What the hell was he doing out there?

Eddie’s heart started up again and a cold sweat broke out on his back. He felt paralyzed, like he couldn’t move from this spot.

Finally he forced himself to get up. He opened the door and peered in the man’s direction.

But the guy was gone.

Eddie stayed in the doorway for a long time. He watched the parking lot and stuck his head out to keep an eye on the other rooms. Nothing happened.

Slowly that ache in his chest died. He shut the door and went back to the bed. The bald guy was just out there talking on his phone and had nothing to do with Eddie.

He shook his head.

He wanted to go back to sleep, but realized he was wide awake and would need to calm himself down before that was even a remote possibility.

***

His cell phone woke him.

Eddie didn’t know where he was. Slowly his memory caught up to him and he remembered this was his motel room. He was fully dressed and had been sleeping on top of his covers.

The nightmares were getting worse.

He needed to do something. Despite his mistrust of drugs, he was seriously considering what the shrink had advised. He was starting not to care what the implications of taking something meant. Before he’d seen it as a sign of weakness. But maybe it was more of a weakness to not admit he needed help. He was letting pride and ego get in the way of his own health.

The phone had stopped ringing. He checked the time: 8:15AM. His alarm was set to go off in fifteen minutes, so no use trying to catch any more shut-eye.

The missed call was from Stan. He rang him back.

“Eddie, you’re famous once again.”

Eddie groaned. He hated the spotlight, especially the media spotlight. The two times he’d gotten fifteen minutes, the media had been at best an annoyance, and at worst a major problem.

“What are they saying?”

“That the Rariville Police Department has brought in a
paranormal consultant
to assist them on a case.”

“Has a nice ring to it.”

Stan laughed. “The police aren’t telling them officially, but they’ve put it together. Two dead in three nights is a lot of action in Rariville.”

Eddie stood. “So you know why I’m here?”

“They’re saying a couple people died of cardiac arrest this week in their homes. One was only in his thirties but some cop over the radio referenced a ghost.”

Eddie said, “For the record, I have nothing to say about that.”

“Roger that.” Stan laughed. The message had gotten through. “Present circumstances excluded, Rariville is generally a nice place to live. Until recently. A few horrible things of note came up.”

“Lay it on me.”

“There was a murder last year. A twenty-year-old girl. It grabbed a lot of headlines because the police suspected her boyfriend.”

“Was his name Stahl?”

“No, that name wasn’t in any of the articles. Her boyfriend was…” Eddie heard Stan click a button. He probably had a bunch of windows open on his computer. “…Rory Tomlinson. When the net started to close on the guy, he went crazy. Retreated to his mother’s house and set it on fire. They never found his body so the general theory is he’s still at large. His mother died in the fire.”

Eddie nodded. “What was the girl’s name?”

“Tonya Schubert.”

“Okay. What else?”

“Another woman went missing too, about three months ago. Her name was Tiffany Engel. The articles mentioned she was being questioned by the authorities around the time of her disappearance, but no details around what.”

“Do they think she’s dead?”

“They danced around that question. Her husband, or widower, still lives there. His name is Max Engel.”

“Was he under investigation either before his wife’s disappearance, or after?” Eddie asked.

“After, definitely. But he was never charged with anything. The police never found her body, so they won’t call it a homicide. I got the sense she’s at large too, for whatever the police were investigating before she disappeared.”

“No mention of Stahl in any of those articles?”

“No.”

“And her husband’s still around?”

“Yes, he owns his own healthcare business.”

Healthcare
? Stahl worked at a hospital. Maybe there was a connection?

“What kind of healthcare?”

“A home health agency. He owned it with his wife.”

If there was a connection he’d have to dig deeper. He didn’t know much about healthcare, except from what he’d learned from the continual sound bites on the news. It was a politically-charged issue and there was a lot of fraud. Could a hospital and a home health agency be in on something together? He had no idea.

“Okay. Anything else?”

“I saved the best for last.”

“Thanks for burying the lead.” Eddie checked the time. He had to get a move on.

“Don’t mention it. The police blasted a serial stalker and rapist to death outside a grocery store. His name was Adrian Perks.”

“I thought you said Rariville was a nice place to live.”

“I did say they blasted him to death, didn’t I?”

“I take your point. I’m assuming he did not survive the shooting?”

“He was shot ten times.”

“So…”

“Eddie, he fucking died.”

“Language.”

“Fuck, shit, cunt, ass, fuck.”

Eddie laughed. “Thanks, pal. This helps a lot. I’m going to ask around about these people, but I have to pretend like I found it—I’m under that NDA and I don’t want to drag you into this media frenzy. Okay?”

“Yes, keep me out of it please. Oh, did you call that client yet?”

It took Eddie a moment to remember what Stan was talking about. “No, didn’t get a chance last night. I’ll take care of that today, I promise.”

“Thanks, man. It’s been six months since the last one so I’m dying to get back out there.”

Eddie frowned. Stan’s math was off. “Six months? Tim died almost ten years ago.”

Stan didn’t answer right away. “You caught me.”

“Caught you?”

Stan said, “I’ve been hunting.”

Eddie said nothing.

Stan filled the silence. “All local stuff.”

Eddie was stunned. Stan had never mentioned this so Eddie had assumed he’d stayed away. Some small part of him felt betrayed that Stan had kept this from him. The emotion didn’t make any sense, but it was there, nonetheless.

“You’ve been hunting even after what happened to Tim?” Eddie said.

“Like you.”

“But I don’t have a wife.”

“She comes with me.”

Eddie was even more stunned. If anything, he’d figured Moira would have objected and probably begged Stan not to hunt.

“Moira works with you?”

“Yes.”

“But…you have a daughter now.”

“Eddie, I appreciate the concern but we are consenting adults.”

“I just…” What was he feeling? He couldn’t say and even if he could, he couldn’t explain why he was feeling it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I might get a lecture.”

“This isn’t a lecture.”

“It’s pretty close.”

Eddie frowned. Stan and Moira were his best friends in the whole world and they’d kept this important part of their life from him?

Stan said, “Just like you I stopped after Tim died. But after a few years I couldn’t ignore the bug anymore.”

Eddie put a timeline together in his mind. Stan had resumed hunting at about the time Eddie had landed in the clink.

“Stan, you could have told me. I would have helped.”

“We don’t go looking for business. We don’t want to make names for ourselves. But ever since Ronan put out that book about the Rossellis and Tim’s death, people have sought us out. Many of them turn to us after they’ve gone to you first.”

Stan and Moira were taking on clients that Eddie had turned away? He couldn’t believe it. And couldn’t believe how angry he was.

“Why would you keep this from me?”

“Guilt. After Tim died, I felt like I should stay away from hunting. When I actually started again, I was afraid you’d be offended.”

Eddie was raging. And again, that tightness in his chest.

“You’ve been doing this on the sly for
years
? And after I got back in the game, you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Eddie, it’s not like we’ve had regular contact.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Stan sighed. “After Tim died you were in and out of our lives. Then you went away. When you got out of the joint, you disappeared and fell off the grid.”

“So what?”

“Dude, you’re my oldest friend but you’re not around.”

Eddie was guilty as charged there. But he was already responding before he could stop himself. “You didn’t tell me this because I didn’t call you enough?”

“Over the years I’ve been pretty fucking understanding, Eddie. What’s with the attitude?”

This kept getting better and better. “You keep something this important from me and you wonder why I’m angry?”

“Yes, I do. Because this shouldn’t change anything between us.”

“It changes everything!” Eddie shouted, but he knew if Stan pressed him, he wouldn’t be able to say why.

“Give me a fucking break,” Stan said. “You missed our wedding, you never came to see us when Moira was pregnant, the first time we saw you again was a month ago and, let’s face it, you only call when you need help.”

Eddie was fuming but the rational part of him knew he was in the wrong. This time he forced himself to stay quiet because he didn’t trust his mouth.

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