The Dead Come Calling

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The Dead Come Calling Page 3

by C. C. Wood


  Then I stared at the screen.

  I had no idea where to start or what to look for. Other than searching for Teri’s name and deaths in Kenna during the 1980’s, I wasn’t sure what else to do.

  “Well, I’ll think of something,” I muttered to myself, typing in Teri’s name.

  A few hours later, I realized that there was precious little to be found on the internet about Teri’s death. The Kenna Gazette digital archives didn’t extend back that far and none of the major newspapers did either. Or if they did, I couldn’t find them.

  Frustration filled me as I realized I would have to go to the library and look through the bound newspapers in the archive room. It would take me days, maybe even weeks, to gather information.

  I briefly considered calling Mal for advice but decided against it. A few days before we filmed our last episode, he’d been fielding calls from his agent. A television network was interested in picking up the show and things were getting serious. I was certain he already had his hands full dealing with all of that, plus helping Stony and Blaine edit the footage.

  I was on my own.

  The rest of the week I went to the library every day, poring over old editions of the Kenna Gazette and the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

  While I’d managed to find Teri’s pitifully short obituary, there were no other articles or information about her death. With no surviving relatives, she’d been buried in a pauper’s field.

  I wasn’t sure what else to look for or how to go about searching for it, even if I had. I could have asked the librarian, Verna Whittle, to help me, but I really didn’t want to answer her questions about why I wanted information about an exotic dancer that committed suicide in the 1980’s.

  When I arrived at home on Friday, thoroughly frustrated, I flopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. I needed to figure out what I was going to have for dinner but I didn’t feel like cooking.

  My cell phone rang. I shifted onto one hip and pulled it out of my back pocket, hoping it was Mal. He’d called me four times since Sunday and I secretly adored it. We didn’t talk about work but about everything else. I enjoyed our conversations so much that I couldn’t bring myself to mention my search for information regarding Teri’s death. I wanted to hang on to the normalcy that surrounded our chats. It was obvious that Mal wasn’t calling as my boss, but as the man who was interested in me. I didn’t want to upset that delicate balance, though I would likely have to do it soon. I needed his help.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t Mal on the phone.

  “Are you bringing me dinner?” I asked Jonelle as soon as I answered.

  “Nope, but I will take you out.”

  “Ugh. I don’t want to leave the house,” I complained.

  “You owe me,” Jonelle stated firmly.

  “Fine,” I sighed. I should have known that she was serious when she said that Sunday night.

  “Wear your new dress,” she commanded.

  “Uh-uh. No way. I’ll go eat but I’m not getting cinched and squished and smoothed to do it,” I argued.

  “I swear, that dress is comfortable. I knew you wouldn’t wear it otherwise. I’ll be there in half an hour to do your hair and make-up. We’re having a girls’ night out!”

  “Jonelle, I don’t think I’m up to it,” I muttered.

  “You’re either dressed when I get there or I’ll dress you myself,” she stated. “I haven’t gotten to spend any time with you in nearly two months. Since you’re the only woman crazy enough to be my friend, I need to make up for lost time. We’re going out. I’ll have you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

  “Fine,” I relented. “I’ll put the dress on when you get here, but I can promise you that I won’t be going anywhere if it’s painful in any way.”

  “Deal,” she said without hesitation.

  Her ready agreement immediately made me suspicious. Before I could confront her with it, she hung up.

  I decided a half hour was just long enough to take a shower. I was glad that I’d had a pedicure during my celebratory spa day with Jonelle. When she saw the talon-like condition of my toes, she’d insisted that I “get those harpy claws clipped and filed”. Then she picked out a dark pink nail polish for me when I refused to do it myself. I rarely painted my nails and always felt overwhelmed when I tried to pick out colors.

  I barely had time to shower and throw on a bathrobe before Jonelle rang my doorbell. When I answered the door, she grinned. “Great, you showered. I’ll do your hair before you get dressed,” she stated as she came inside.

  An hour later I stood in front of my antique full-length mirror, one of the few things I’d taken with me when I left home. I couldn’t believe how I looked.

  Jonelle hadn’t been lying when she said the aubergine dress she bought me was comfortable and stretched. The material was a soft, clingy jersey knit. It looked great against my pale skin and made my hazel eyes pop. Though it was sleeveless, I could still wear a regular bra and the hem fell to a demure two inches above my knees when I tugged it down. Even the neckline, while lower than I typically wore, was a somewhat modest vee.

  Other than being tighter than I usually wore, there wasn’t a single characteristic for me to complain about in regards to the dress, which annoyed me a little. No wonder Jonelle had agreed so easily to let me out of girls’ night out if I was uncomfortable. The woman understood exactly how my mind worked.

  Despite my irritation, I had to admit I looked great.

  Jonelle had dried my dark brown hair and smoothed it with a straightening iron so that it fell below my shoulders in a glossy sheet. She also insisted on doing my make-up, but kept it light enough that I didn’t feel as though it was caked on.

  “Well, what do you think?” Jonelle asked.

  “I think I’m mad at you,” I replied with a frown.

  “What? Why?” She looked annoyed as she spoke.

  “Because I look great and now you’re going to expect me to let you truss me up whenever you feel like it.”

  She laughed. “Maybe once a month. I know you’ll rebel if I push you too hard.”

  I could handle once a month. Maybe.

  “Why don’t you go open the bottle of wine I brought while I get ready?” Jonelle suggested.

  I did as she asked, bringing her a glass upstairs as she curled her hair and redid her make-up. She pulled a tiny black dress and a pair of strappy sandals out of her bag and shooed me out of the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way. I demanded to drive since I intended to stay sober and be home by the midnight deadline Jonelle had jokingly suggested.

  “Where do you want to go to dinner?” I asked.

  “I made a reservation at The Chop House in Weatherford,” she replied.

  The Chop House was a fantastic steakhouse with a superb wine list and candles on every table. It was the perfect place for a leisurely meal with a friend or a date.

  It was also the kind of place where you could dress up a little if you felt like it, which explained why Jonelle wanted me to wear my new outfit.

  The meal was delicious, as usual, and Jonelle and I enjoyed talking and catching up. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her while I was on the road until I saw her again.

  After dinner, Jonelle directed me to a club on the outskirts of town, one I rarely frequented because of the loud music and crowded dance floor.

  I gave a token argument, which she immediately shot down, and drove us to the bar when she promised again that we would leave before midnight.

  In spite of my misgivings, I found that I enjoyed myself. I assumed we would be overdressed, but many of the women were wearing dresses rather than jeans and boots as I expected.

  Jonelle and I were both asked to dance within a few minutes of entering. I even joined in on a couple of line dances, laughing when I missed steps and generally not giving a hoot if I looked silly.

  By eleven-thirty, the club was becoming crowded and the patrons were steadily moving f
rom tipsy to drunk.

  I waved to Jonelle, who was dancing her third dance with a handsome cowboy. She nodded to me and quickly extricated herself.

  It took her a few minutes to cross the dance floor, but when she got closer, she took one look at my face and said, “You’re ready to go home, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “My feet are killing me.”

  She laughed. “Let’s pay our tab and get out of here.”

  True to her word, Jonelle and I pulled up into my driveway by midnight.

  “You’ve had a few too many,” I commented. “Wanna crash in the guest room?”

  “Sounds good,” she agreed, yawning. “Now that I’m sitting down, I’m exhausted. My first appointment isn’t until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Once we were inside, I gave her a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, an extra toothbrush, and let her borrow my face wash. While she got ready for bed, I prepped the coffee maker and went through my own nighttime ritual.

  Sticking my head around the door to the guest room, I found Jonelle pulling back the blankets.

  “Need anything?” I asked.

  “Just sleep,” she replied with a smile.

  “Thanks for talking me into going out. I needed it.”

  Her smile widened. “You’re welcome. It was fun, right?”

  “It was.”

  Her eyes narrowed at my simple response, but she let it go. “Night, Zoe. See you in the morning.”

  “Night.”

  As I wandered back into my room, I wondered where Teri had disappeared to. She hadn’t made an appearance since Jonelle and I returned to the house. While she wasn’t constantly underfoot, Teri liked to make her presence known, especially when Jonelle was around.

  My curiosity was derailed by a wide, jaw-cracking yawn. I decided to get a good night’s sleep then worry about Teri in the morning.

  The decision was one I would soon regret.

  Chapter

  It was a dream. It had to be.

  Someone was holding me down, a huge weight pressing on me. I thrashed against it, struggling to breathe. I couldn’t scream or even make a noise. There was no air.

  The nightmare was all encompassing and inescapable. Darkness surrounded me completely. It was as if I existed in a vacuum. There was no light, no oxygen. Nothing but infinite blackness.

  Lights flashed before my eyes and, at first, I thought it was from a lack of oxygen. Until I saw Jonelle’s face in my peripheral vision.

  This wasn’t a dream.

  Dragging in a scant breath of air, I looked up at the black shape hulking over me. It roiled and moved like smoke, but the surface looked slick and oily as though it were some kind of viscous liquid.

  I tried to lift my hands and shove it away, but I was trapped.

  “Oh my God. Zoe! Zoe!” Jonelle’s expression morphed from shock to fear. “Answer me.”

  I wanted to speak but it was impossible. What little breath I had wasn’t enough to force out words.

  “Teri! Goddammit, Teri, come help us!” Jonelle yelled.

  Spots danced in front of my eyes and I knew I was moments from passing out. As I fought the hold on my body, I thought I saw a face hovering over mine.

  Blinking rapidly, I tried to clear the dancing spots in my vision so that I could see, but the face vanished back into the darkness before I could focus.

  Suddenly, Teri appeared above me, her hands disappearing into the mass that hovered over the bed.

  I watched in shock as she tore the entity from me, dragging it away from the bed. Desperately, I sucked in air, coughing and choking as my strained lungs abruptly began to work again.

  “What is it?” Jonelle asked, inching closer.

  Before anyone could respond, the black mass began to fade. Teri kept grabbing at it in an effort to keep it trapped, but it dissipated from her grasp.

  “Shit!” she exclaimed.

  “Where did it go?” Jonelle asked, turning in wide circles, her frantic gaze searching each corner of the room.

  I coughed harshly, still unable to control my lungs.

  Jonelle moved quickly over to the bed, pulled me into a sitting position, and lifted my arms over my head. I shot her a look, unsure how this strange pose would help. Oddly enough, after a few seconds I began to feel some relief. My lungs expanded and the uncontrollable hacking subsided.

  I could feel the wild trembling in Jonelle’s hands as she continued to hold my arms. Her face was pale and her eyes were glazed from shock.

  Teri hovered at the end of my bed, her arms wrapped around her waist.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered to Jonelle. “I’m okay.”

  She released my arms, then grabbed me in a tight hug. “I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she muttered against my shoulder. “I thought you were dying.”

  I didn’t tell her that the same idea had crossed my mind.

  “I’m all right now. It’s gone,” I reassured her, patting her back.

  “What was that thing?” she asked. She released me and leaned back so that she could see my face.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” I threw back the blankets and climbed out of bed. “Whatever it was, I want to get out of this room.”

  Jonelle nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  When we were all downstairs, I did something I rarely did. I went into the kitchen and took a bottle of vodka out of the upper cabinet. I poured an inch of liquid in two juice glasses and carried them into the living room.

  Jonelle’s hands were still shaking slightly as she took a glass from me and lifted it to her lips.

  I drank deeply from my own glass, grateful for the heat of the liquor as it slid down my throat. Now that I was no longer terrified, I felt chilled, nearly to the bone.

  We sat on the couch, side-by-side while Teri perched on the coffee table facing us.

  “Do you really not know what that thing was?” she asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “It wasn’t a ghost?” Teri pressed.

  I shook my head again, then drained the last of the vodka from my glass.

  “Is Teri here?” Jonelle asked quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where?”

  I gestured to where Teri sat. “She’s sitting on the coffee table.”

  “She saved you, didn’t she?”

  I nodded jerkily.

  Jonelle’s gaze focused on the area where I’d pointed. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Teri’s face was about three inches lower than where she was looking.

  “Thank you for helping us, Teri,” she stated. “And thank you for waking me up.”

  I glanced sharply at Jonelle. “Waking you up?”

  She drank the rest of the vodka in her glass before she responded, setting the glass down on the side table with a click. “Yeah. At least I think it was her. The light came on and I felt something cold against my face. She grabbed my hand and yanked me out of bed and down the hall to your room.”

  I looked at Teri. “You did that?”

  “I hoped she would know what to do,” Teri answered.

  “Thank you.”

  “We should go to my house,” Jonelle stated suddenly.

  The stark fear that appeared on Teri’s face kept me from immediate agreement.

  “I can’t leave Teri.”

  Jonelle gave me a confused look. “Why?”

  My brain abruptly clicked on and began moving at light speed. “If she can touch it, then it can touch her. I’m not leaving her alone until I know for a fact that it’s gone.”

  “Seriously?” Jonelle asked. “Teri’s a ghost. She’s already dead.” She flashed an apologetic look toward Teri again. “Sorry, no offense.”

  “A few seconds ago, you were just thanking Teri for saving my life,” I argued.

  “You should go,” Teri interrupted. “That thing wasn’t after me. It was here for you.”

  I glared at her. “I’m not leaving you. If it comes back, it could hurt
you instead of me.”

  “The cock hopper is right. I’m already dead! It can’t do anything worse to me,” Teri argued.

  “I won’t leave you,” I replied stubbornly. “For all we know, it would just follow me. What would I do if it showed up at Jonelle’s and you weren’t there to help me this time?”

  Jonelle and Teri were both silent.

  “We’re staying here,” I stated firmly.

  Jonelle took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. If you don’t want to leave, we should call someone for help.”

  I shot her an incredulous look. “Who? The sheriff? I doubt he’s equipped to deal with violent black smoke.”

  “No, you smartass, Mal! You should at least call him. He’s been dealing with ghosts and other paranormal phenomena for years. He might know something you don’t.”

  “No, Jonelle.”

  She shot to her feet, running her hands through her hair. “Dammit, Zoe. Just because you can see ghosts and control zombies doesn’t mean that you’re invincible or that you know everything. You’re human, just like the rest of us. And right now, you need help!”

  I couldn’t argue with anything she said because she had a valid point. “Fine,” I relented. “I’ll call him tomorrow morning.”

  Jonelle glanced at the clock. “It’s three a.m. It is tomorrow morning.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Zoe…”

  “I’ll call him a little later, okay! It’s the middle of the night. If I call Mal now, he’ll jump out of bed and rush over here right away. A few hours won’t hurt.”

  Jonelle blew out a long breath. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”

  I got to my feet. “I’ll go brew some coffee. I doubt either of us is going back to sleep tonight.”

  I was utterly wrong about not being able to sleep, even after two cups of coffee.

  “She fell asleep a couple of hours ago,” Jonelle whispered.

  “Have you slept?”

  The man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar to my half-conscious mind.

  “A little. I have to work this afternoon, but I’ll be back when I’m done at six.”

 

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