I go back to my room to get Mojo so we can go down to the basement. I’m at the elevator when I decide to bring Rita along. I’ve been so creeped out by her rat body and fearful of what damage she might do to others that I’ve been overlooking her evil detector. I don’t expect to run into anyone in the basement, but I’m interested in seeing her superpowers in action, especially if I find the file on Seggren.
I stick the rat doll in my bag and go downstairs. There are actually a few guests in the hotel tonight. I manage to slip by the desk clerk on the way from the elevator without so much as a glance. I’m glad I never gave the key to the basement back to Aubrey and that she was too unglued to ask for it.
I pull my flashlight from my bag and maneuver down the stairs. The card table is still set up by the file cabinet. The lantern is still on the table. After I light it, I check to see that Aubrey returned the files. She did, but they aren’t in the same order. I should have done all my reviewing down here. I’m not in the mood to revisit that plan.
I set Rita on the windowsill. The window is small and maybe five feet from the floor. If my orientation is correct, it looks out on the fountain.
“Let me know if you see anyone, especially an old man,” I tell her.
I thumb through the registers to see if July’s surfaced in the re-filing. It didn’t. I assume that Radford will give me the women’s names tomorrow, so I give up that search. I shove the other registers Aubrey didn’t bother to copy in my bag. Then I remember the construction files. I never would have remembered them if I hadn’t come back down here.
I’m almost not ticked off at Aubrey when I realize both the construction and maintenance files aren’t in the cabinet anymore. They aren’t ones I gave to the woman, so why are they gone? I go back to the top drawer and work my way down to the bottom. They aren’t here. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Boshears could have taken them for work she’s having done. Maybe, but I doubt it.
I’m stuffed up from the dampness and sleepy too. It’s almost eight o’clock and I want to go to the back of the building to see if the lights come on or the old man shows up. I turn off the lantern and am half way up the stairs when I remember the rat doll.
“Sorry, Rita,” I say, making my way to the window. She isn’t on the windowsill. I shine my flashlight. She isn’t on the floor either. The window’s shut so I know she didn’t fall out.
I double check my bag in case I’m losing my mind or Rita has learned to… walk. There is no Rita anywhere. This is impossible. Where did she go? Or who took her, like a rat? She could have fallen and another rat dragged her off. I’m sure there’s more than one in this basement.
“Where’s Rita?” I ask Mojo. He’s been passed out at the top of the stairs for awhile and has no intention of coming down to look for her. I spend another fifteen minutes checking the corners until my flashlight starts dimming.
“Rita, make a sound. I’ve got to go so help me out.” The basement is eerily silent so I give up.
The wolfdog pushes past me as soon as I open the basement door. He couldn’t care less about Rita or how she managed to disappear. I feel bad. I let the rat girl down. I’ve also let her loose in the hotel.
We head to the back of the building. I’m early so I start to follow Mojo to the field, but first I want to see if Rita is looking out at me.
The basement is a little to the west of the fountain. I get on my hands and knees and look in the window. It’s too dark to see inside, but there’s definitely no Rita on the windowsill. How did she disappear? No one in Taw Ridge is safe now.
I get chills standing in the field. The temperature is cooling from a sticky ninety degrees, but I know Butch Seggren’s cold, dark energy is tilled into the soil. I just hope a few bodies aren’t tilled in with it. I make a mental note to ask the detective if they checked for graves amongst the carrots and tomatoes.
Rain clouds are threatening as we go back to the fountain. I sit on the side again and watch for the old man and the lights upstairs. Lightning cracks and a low rumble follows. A few large rain drops try to convince me to leave.
“Okay, it’s almost time for the ladies to arrive. Give me a sign that you’re here checking the rooms for them. And tell me just who you are.”
When it’s past their check-in time and more rain drops fall, I head to the front of the hotel. The old man was definitely trying to spook me.
Just as I come around the back of the building, two police cars stop in front and block the entrance. Officers rush inside like the place is under siege. I feel dizzy thinking by who.
Since no one is preventing my entrance, I look around and go in. The clerk isn’t at the front desk. The officers are nowhere in sight. I slip down the hallway in the direction of the basement. I don’t make it more than a few steps before I see the clerk. The basement door is open and he’s looking down the stairs where I assume the officers went. He turns towards me and his face is a fright.
“What’s going on?” I don’t sound all that innocent in asking.
“I thought I heard something in the hallway. When I got to the basement, I heard a loud bang. I could hear someone down there.” The man is out of breath though I doubt he’s been running. “You were just down there a few minutes ago.”
I guess he wants me to be as terrified as him. I’m not, but I’m not calm either. The last thing those officers need is to find the rat girl.
“There was no one down there.” The pitch of my voice is too high.
“How do you know? They might have been hiding. I heard someone down there.”
This is curious. Rita was hiding from me, but why? She was made specifically for me. She probably has strands of my hair or fingernails inside her little rat body. Agustina’s taken more than a few of both for potion making. Now I’ve got an escaped rat with my DNA evidence.
I walk closer to the clerk and can hear the officers coming up the stairs. The first one out has a smirk on his face. The second one asks to use the nearest restroom. He’s holding his hand and it’s dripping blood.
Chapter Twenty Three
§
“Just a scratch from an old pipe,” the cop says. He laughs at me as he passes. It was more than a scratch. The clerk hurries away with them, still looking terrified.
When they are no longer in sight, I open the door and walk down the stairs. The light from the hallway and window are barely more than that from my dimming flashlight.
“Rita? Rita?” I’m whispering, and hearing nothing in return. As soon as I reach the bottom step, the flashlight dies. I find the lantern and light it then I walk around waving it. I’m on my hands and knees and getting tired of her little game when the door slams shut. Mojo didn’t come down with me so I seriously doubt the clerk shut it.
I turn out the lantern and go to the stairs. A quarter of the way up, something hits my ankle. I trip and my foot goes through one of the openings before I catch myself.
“Hey.” I bolt up a few steps before stopping and turning around. Now there’s just a sliver of light coming from under the door. The light from the window doesn’t reach the floor. Looking down the stairs is looking into an abyss, one that stinks of rats.
“Is someone down here?” My ankle is throbbing. Whatever I hit, or hit me, felt like a hammer. My heart is beating through my chest. After listening to nothing, I start walking sideways up the stairs with my back pressed to the wall.
The door is locked and I didn’t lock it. I’d use the key but I left it in my bag, which is on the other side of the door. I pound and yell for the clerk. He’s probably still with the cops. At least I hope that’s the reason he’s ignoring me. I’m telling Mojo to go get help, but I don’t think he’s there.
I yell a few more times before hearing muffled voices. “Hey. I can’t get the door open.”
“That will teach you.”
I jerk around because the voice didn’t come from the other side of the door. It sounded like a man talking into a tin can on the steps below me. Someone is in the b
asement who sounds like he should be in a horror movie.
“Rita? Teach me what? You’re voice is sounding a little deep there. Hello?”
I wait and I’m about to beat on the door again when I hear a chuckle. A deep throaty chuckle that sounds like it’s under the stairs. What’s Mojo doing?
“Rita? Hello. I can hear you. Who are you?”
My eyes are glued to the bottom of the stairs even though I can’t see the bottom. I grab the door knob and start to pound when something slams the other side so hard I think it might fall on me. I go a few steps down before I realize what I’m doing.
“Ms. Raven?”
Finally. “Yes. The door is locked. Will you open it?” I’m at the top step when the door clicks open. The clerk still looks terrified. Probably by me this time.
“The door wasn’t locked,” he says. “What are you doing? Is there someone down there? Should I call the police to come back?”
“No. No need to call the police,” I tell him. A priest might be a good idea though.
“Your dog almost knocked the door down. What were you doing in there?”
“Who knows?” I say. “Make sure that door is locked.” I head to the elevator while trying to figure out what just happened. My fear is that Rita’s gone psycho on me.
When I get to my room, I search for the rat girl. I’m going to need therapy if I find her up here. After fifteen minutes of searching, I decide she’s still in the basement. Waiting for my return. Wanting to teach me a lesson in rat doll care I guess. I’m tempted to call Agustina or Maybelle or both for advice, but it’s late and I know I’ll sound insane.
I grab a beer from the mini-bar and try to focus. Between the very real pain in my ankle and the tin can voice, I can’t decide if I just met the living or the dead. I need to figure it out.
Rita was on the windowsill. Then she was nowhere. The clerk heard noise in the basement. I should have asked him what kind of noise. I just assumed it was Rita, but I seriously doubt she was the one who spoke to me. Since the police didn’t find anyone down there, that only leaves the dead who chose to taunt me. I hope anyway.
I’m sure Agustina wouldn’t give me a cursed doll, but that doesn’t mean the bruja didn’t. Mexican witchcraft is powerful and sometimes vengeful. Who knows what kind of spell was cast on that thing. I never should have brought her with me.
If not Rita, it could have been someone in the basement who knew where to hide down there, like a crawl space. The hotel was empty for years. If there’s a way in, I’m sure someone found it. Maybe even an old man who doesn’t like spending nights on the streets. If he considers the basement his home, I don’t blame him for having a little fun scaring me. If it is his home, he has a new furry roommate.
If neither a rat or a street person, who’s in the basement and why? Maybe the women are looking for their murderer. Maybe I found the murderer tonight, and Seggren is just a crazy old man.
My beer can is empty so I take a shower to clear my energy field and relax. I’ll need to go back to the basement to meet my nemesis, but not tonight. Rita can wait. I hope.
Tonight, I want to try to make a connection with the woman who was murdered in this room. After checking for fire sprinklers, I light a smudge stick and sit on the floor across from the bed. I close my eyes and pray for Janet Onah and Rita and myself. The smoke from the smudge stick dances in the dark room. Mojo’s soft breathing is the only sound.
“Hello, Janet. My name is Jack Raven, and I’ve been asked to come here to help you crossover. Please give me a sign that you’re here.”
The air conditioner turns on and I jump. I get up to turn it off and stop to look out the window. The old man. He’s standing at the fountain looking up at me.
“Wait.” I put both my hands up to signal him. “Janet, I’ll be right back.” I grab my key card and run to the elevator. It’s taking its time. As soon as the door opens in the lobby, I run out the door and around the back of the building. He’s gone.
I run to the field and around the other side of the building then down the block and back to the front of the hotel. He’s gone or I’m going crazy and he was never here.
I start to go back inside, but decide to check one more time. The old man isn’t at the fountain. I stop at the window and get on my knees to look in the basement. It’s too dark to see anything including a rat.
When I go back inside, I head to the front desk. The clerk is staring at the computer monitor. His name tag says Alex. Now that we’ve both had time to calm down, I hope Alex is in the mood to share a little information.
“What did the police have to say?”
He jumps then smiles and shrugs. “They think it was probably just a bunch of rats. I left a note for Ms. Boshears on calling an exterminator.”
Yikes. “What exactly did you hear?”
“Nothing that sounded like rats unless they were gigantic ones.” He looks around like he’s worried someone is listening then his voice gets quiet. “At the basement door, I thought I heard banging and someone walking around. I opened the door and called out. It got real quiet. It’s so dark down there, I sure wasn’t going down. I called out a few more times then I went to shut the door and I thought I…. You won’t repeat this to Ms. Boshears will you?”
I promise I won’t.
He looks around again. “I thought I heard someone laugh. A man.” He chuckles, hiccups, and turns bright red. “So I locked the door and called the cops. They didn’t believe me.”
“I’ve seen an old man behind the hotel. Do you ever get street people who sneak in at night?”
“No. I don’t think so. I hope not. I’ve only worked here two weeks. I don’t get spooked real easy, but that basement creeps me out.” He’s looking at me and smiling. “I know why you’re here.”
“You do? What do you know?”
“You’re here about the murders and some ghosts. I don’t believe in ghosts. You must though. Do you think that’s what’s down in the basement?”
“I think it’s probably rats,” I say, “and old plumbing pipes. What do you know about the women who were murdered here?”
He laughs. “I’m only eighteen. I’ve heard stories about three women who were stabbed to death in their beds. They didn’t live in this town and nobody knew them. It’s a legend now, but I never thought much about it since it happened so long ago.”
“What about the ghosts?” I ask.
“What ghosts?” He’s laughing again.
“I know you don’t believe in them, but what are the stories you’ve heard?”
He squints his eyes at me. “Don’t you say anything to get me fired now.” He’s looking around again then grins at me.
“I’ve heard the hotel was haunted, but that was just a ghost story until my new boss came to town. I heard she’s spreading rumors about them so she can drum up business. Aubrey told me she plans on charging double for the rooms up there. You know, for the haunted thirteenth floor.”
Chapter Twenty Four
§
I wouldn’t blame Boshears for trying to capitalize on a haunted hotel, but I seriously doubt she’d consider having a haunted thirteenth floor. She’s convinced me that ghosts are beneath her board certified integrity.
I’m going to take with a grain of salt any rumors that are getting spread by the locals about the brash woman from California, including those Aubrey might be spreading. I doubt Boshears is impressing many folks in this quiet little Southern town.
But no ghost? Not likely. And now that I think about it, I fear a ghost has taken Rita. I’m afraid for the ghost.
When I get back to the room, I stand at the window with the light out and search the grounds for the old man. He was about two hours late in coming by to watch the lights come on, though I doubt punctuality means much to him.
I’m sure this old hotel has plenty of stories about the murders, but I can’t let them steer me off track. I also need to clear my mind about Butch Seggren’s involvement in what happened
that night.
I doubt anyone who ever met the man would consider him entirely innocent, but twelve people didn’t think he was guilty. I’m also doubting that he knows who murdered the women. It’s more likely that he was just trying to scare me. Fear is more powerful than truth ever could be.
I’m too hyper to concentrate on making contact with Janet now, so I decide to check out the other rooms. According to Miriam Dodd, Onah was in room 1301. If there’s anything to the old man’s words, the lights I saw that first night were rooms 1303 and 1306. The room assignments could have been done that way so the women didn’t disturb each other. Or it could have been done by the murderer who wanted to ensure his actions didn’t wake the others.
I make another note to ask the detective about the room numbers and if any of the clerks were once suspects.
When murder victims haunt, they usually object to leaving until the identity of their murderer is known and even the horrifying details that they took to their graves, even if it’s too late for earthly justice.
I step out of my room and stand against the wall then I close my eyes and start walking. Trailing my hand over the wall and doors, I stop at each and try to get a sense of the energy. The air is cool and still. I know I’m alone. When I get to the end of the hall, I unlock the door to Room 1306.
The room smells like lemons and fresh paint– exactly what I noticed in my own room. It’s decorated in the same earth and gold tones. After looking out the window and getting another view of the fountain, I sit on the bed and listen to the silence for a few minutes. When I open my eyes, the wolfdog is sitting in front of me.
“What are you doing?” He keeps staring but doesn’t answer. I get up to check the room’s ceiling for an access panel. If there once was one, it’s gone now. Just as well, I wouldn’t want to slither through an old crawl space right now.
I lock the door and go to Room 1303. It has the same lemon and paint scents, earthy tones, and panel-free ceiling. There’s the same silence as I sit on the bed. If the ladies checked in tonight, they must be sleeping elsewhere. I sure don’t sense a spirit in any of the rooms. To be sure, I spend time in the three rooms that I think were vacant that night. The results are the same. I’m alone on the not so haunted thirteenth floor.
The Taw Ridge Haunting Page 12
