The Third Eye of Leah Leeds

by Christopher Carrolli

  He looked at Leah, who shifted her eyes away with an impatient scoff. He knew she wasn’t considering all the precautions, and while it was true that weather reports were often wrong or exaggerated, Leah seemed undeterred from waiting until after the holidays. But, Susan thought it was essential for her to go and confront the past, and none of them wanted Leah to continue enduring the mental anguish she’d been experiencing for the past couple of months, especially over the holidays.

  “Yes, Dylan,” Susan said, pointing to the giant, flat-screen that hung from the wall. “At the end of the meeting, let’s surf though the channels for news on the storm. I think we need to be prepared for that as well.”

  “So noted,” Dylan said. “Now, when we go in there, we need to immediately light up the place. It’s not a good idea to be investigating in the dark on this one; the house is too large, too vast. There are issues of safety that we need to take into consideration.

  “Brett, I want us to start with the constant setup and monitoring of recording devices. We need to focus on finding EVP’s, as well as any video images that may occur. We’ll also be taking ultra-violet photographs to catch ghostly images on film.”

  “You mean demon images,” Leah said, almost adopting Sidney’s sarcasm.

  “I mean demons, ghosts, or anything and everything that’s part of that house.” Dylan’s look lingered on her, hoping she might announce some last minute reconsideration, but he knew her better than that. He continued his address.

  “The second phase of our investigation will be through the psychic talents of our team. Leah, you’re the seer; Sidney, you’re the listener. So, I need you both to be focusing on what you see and hear. It’s essential that you both keep the rest of us informed at all times.

  “Leah, you and Paul know the house best. We’re going to need you both to guide us through it, since none of us has ever been inside, and what we do know is only from reading your memoir. But, Paul, if you don’t feel you’d be up to it, we do understand.”

  Paul only lowered his eyes and said nothing. Secretly, Dylan hoped that he would back out of going. Having to worry about Leah was one thing, having to worry about Paul, or Leah becoming distracted over Paul, was another.

  But who knows, Dylan thought. We may just go there and find nothing but bad memories, in which case, we’ll all be home in time for the holiday.

  After all, it was possible. He recalled a few instances where a bunch of hype had revealed nothing. For Leah’s sake, he hoped this was one of those times. Then, Sidney spoke, segueing the discussion.

  “So, what about the mirror?” he said. “The mirror from Leah’s childhood has to still be there.” He looked at Paul. “Paul, Detective Goddard told me that though you sold the house, the items within it still belong to you, according to your late wife’s will. Is that correct?”

  Paul nodded his head.

  “Then I think we need to find the mirror,” Sidney said, giving Dylan that look of determination that he was consistently met with throughout their meetings.

  “I know we have to find it,” Leah said, turning her eyes to Dylan to second Sidney’s motion. “That mirror is the reason my mother’s dead. I keep seeing that mirror in my dreams, and it shatters into a million pieces. I know what my job is; that mirror is the culprit, and I will destroy it.”

  “But once we find the mirror,” Brett said, to Leah. “We need to study it first, find out what we can about it, while we have it in our possession. We can’t just walk up and break it.”

  “We’ll conduct a search for the mirror,” Dylan said. “We also need to enter the basement; ghostly activity would be prominent there as well. That’s where the bodies were discovered and where a crucial part of our investigation will be.”

  “We’ll need to use our lighting equipment for that,” Brett said, “which means we’ll be hoisting heavy equipment down into the basement.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Leah, do you think that’s possible, can it be done?”

  Her reaction teetered on uncertainty as she mimicked Brett’s shrugging shoulders.

  “I guess,” she said. “But, not without coordination and careful manipulation of those stairs. Although, we may not need all of our lighting equipment. Last I recall, there were electric sconces along the walls, but how much light they will afford us is another matter.”

  “Either way, we’ll be prepared,” Dylan said. “And Leah, I don’t want you transcribing notes this time as is usual in our investigations; Susan will be attending to that this time. As I said, we’re going to need you to lead us through this one, at least as far as the house is concerned. I want your full focus to be on your ability and what the house is showing you, if anything.”

  “Don’t worry, Dylan,” she said. “It’s going to be showing me quite a few things.”

  As Leah’s last words on the subject filled the room, Dylan glossed over a few more issues and reminders. Then just before calling the meeting to adjournment, he turned on the flat-screen and surfed to find the local news channel, where a weather report was constant and ongoing. They sat silenced by the weather reporter, who stood in front of a screen where a white mass was moving over a vast stretch of forest green. The reporter predicted while pointing to his right.

  “As you can see, it’s through this area that the storm will approach. It’ll begin snowing sometime today, and look for that to continue through Christmas Eve and into Christmas morning. Many forecasters are calling for fifteen inches, eighteen in some areas, and even higher in others. Either way, stay careful on the roadways, or stay off if you can. This storm looks pretty unpredictable and sporadic in its behavior.”

  Dylan turned the giant screen off with the remote, and turned one last time with a prompt look at Leah. In the silence, he wished he could transfer his thoughts to her mind. It would be okay to wait, he would tell her. The storm was an Ace in the deck of cards stacked against them. Her big blue eyes stared back at him, knowing what his leer meant.

  “We’ll be there long before the worst of the storm hits,” she said. “Once we get there, we’ll be inside. The earlier we leave, tomorrow, the earlier we return tomorrow night.”

  “And my van is an all-wheel drive,” Sidney said.

  Dylan felt defeated at the voice of yet another investigator with a vested interest. Sidney had become a dog with a new bone over Angus Marlowe’s book. He looked at Susan, who made her final address to the meeting with a sigh.

  “Well, it’s a race between us and the storm,” she said. “If the storm makes it impossible for us to get there, we can’t risk our lives. Obviously, we’d have to wait it out if that happens. Besides, it won’t be long before the roads are cleared.”

  She placed her hand on Leah’s shoulder, and Dylan was relieved to see Leah nod in what looked like half-agreement. Susan said a few last words to the team, and the meeting was adjourned.

  Outside, the first flakes of a new snowfall fell to the ground in a flurry.

  * * * *

  Cory ran up the stairs in Levin Hall as fast as he could and swung the door to the second-floor hallway open wide. He quickly pushed the door shut again and spun around in a whirl in the opposite direction.

  “Damn it!” He was too late, and he heard his quiet disappointment make the sound of hissing steam.

  Today, he’d been assigned to cover the proceedings in an ongoing, local murder trial. That was not a problem until one of his spies reported activity over at Levin Hall with the investigators. The two teenagers involved in the accident at Cedar Manor had been spotted leaving room 208, his source had told him, and a barrage of guests were seen to show up.

  A meeting, he thought. They’re having a meeting.

  His sense of urgency made the sweat pour down his face as he sat in court, imagining his plan washing down the drain. But luckily, the judge had adjourned court early at 3:00; he drove here as quickly as possible. Now, he looked through the glass in the door, shifting his eyes down the hallway and watched as two men were leaving room 20
8.

  Obviously, he’d missed the meeting. Just then, he turned away from the door and pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket, faking a conversation. The two men were approaching. The door wheezed open behind him, and from the corner of his eye, he watched them descend the stairs. One was an older, Native-American man, and the other one looked vaguely familiar.

  It took him only a few seconds, but he was sure the balding guy was Leah Leeds’ father, the whack job. He continued his pseudo conversation and during a staged pause, heard one of the men mention giving the other a ride back to his hotel. Apparently, the meeting was over, but maybe not.

  He looked through the glass again. No one stood in the hallway; the investigators were still inside their headquarters. He calmly opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and walked toward room 208.

  His heart raced and pounded in his chest, the thought of his own conniving streak fueling the heat of his blood with excitement. He stared at the door and thought better of knocking. It would be difficult to explain who he was and feed them the cockamamie excuse about wanting to do a story on one of their investigations. He wouldn’t get past the door with that one.

  Besides, they would never go for it unless it was some mundane ghost hunt. They would never let the press in on an investigation into Cedar Manor, and he was almost positive that’s what this meeting had been about. The only way to get straight to the point was to barge right on in. Unless the door’s locked, he thought, and pulled the handle.

  It wasn’t, and he walked inside.

  They were talking amongst themselves when he entered, and within seconds, their voices muted one by one as each of their five faces looked at him. Leah Leeds, who turned sideways from her seat at the table, stared at him, obviously searching her mind. It wouldn’t be long before she realized who he was and what he did, so he would have to make it fast.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I’m sorry to barge in like this. I’m Cory Chase, Valley Tribune.” He flashed his press ID and saw their looks of concern at his rude entrance.

  “What can we do for you, Mr. Chase?” Dylan Rasche snatched his ID from his hand, looked it over, and handed it back to him with a suspicious smirk.

  Before he got a chance to respond, he became distracted by Leah Leeds’ wagging finger.

  “Cory Chase,” she said. “I remember you.”

  “Right,” he said. “We graduated from the same class, here, a few years ago. You’re Leah Leeds.”

  He watched her study his face and say nothing.

  “Well,” he continued. “I recall a few years back when you all made headlines with your elaborate work as paranormal investigators. And of course, Leah, I do remember your memoir being released by the university press. I did manage to get my hands on a copy and found it to be a gripping piece of documentation.”

  “Thank you,” she said, the sound of skepticism dropping her voice to a minimum.

  “That brings me to why I’m here.”

  He turned and saw them all staring at him with resounding suspicion, like he was a drifter who’d just swept through the door and joined the party. Which, he was, after all. He watched as Susan Logan’s face deepened in thought, her eyes searching, trying to place him. It would be only minutes before she remembered his appearance at the funeral viewing. That was a little fact he’d forgotten before he’d barged right on in, but there was no turning back now.

  “May I have a seat?” He quickly sat at the conference table before anyone responded.

  “I’m sure you’re all aware of the incident that occurred at Cedar Manor this past week,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m sure you’re also aware that the teenagers involved had planned on ghost-hunting. They also told a tale of some mysterious incident that occurred and then suddenly changed their stories to the police.”

  Now, he felt his backbone in place, now that he was staring at them even-eyed and speaking to them face-to-face. He felt more like a reporter, as opposed to an intruder.

  “I’m sure the police had something to do with that,” Cory said, clearing his throat. “But, my point is that I have always wanted to do a story on your society, to see the infamous investigators in action and even witness your results that are reportedly phenomenal. I mean, you guys would make a great story; you don’t see that?”

  “We don’t do what we do for our own gratifications.” Sidney Pratt, the fat guy whose name he’d learned most recently, spoke to him from across the table.

  “That’s why I assumed that you all would conduct an investigation at Cedar Manor,” he said. “I figured that since you’re all familiar with the place, and its history, that you might go there to try and confirm the original story given by the two teenagers, maybe find out exactly what happened to Jimmy Nort that night. I mean, that is why those two were here only this afternoon, isn’t it?”

  A dead silence descended the room as they all watched his face with glaring eyes, wondering what his motives were.

  “But, Mr. Chase...” Dylan began to ask a question, but Cory interrupted.

  “Cory,” he said. “Please, call me Cory.”

  “I’m curious,” Dylan said. “How do you know that the results of our work are so ‘phenomenal,’ as you said? I mean, outside of rumors that you’ve heard, our investigations are always strictly confidential.”

  “Well,” Cory said. “It’s no secret that you have some amazing psychic talent in your little group. Leah Leeds, by her memoir, is a seer, and Mr. Pratt, I’m well aware of your ability as a clairaudient. You see, I know quite a few things about you all; it’s my job to know things.”

  “It was the funeral viewing!”

  Susan Logan’s words rushed out with a gasp of surprise, a heightened exclamation that sounded a slight alarm through the room.

  “You were at the funeral viewing!” She leaned in closer to him with her hands flat down on the table, perching her upper body forward. “I remember you, Mr. Smith!”

  “I knew it,” Dylan said. “I recall seeing him as well.”

  “I do apologize,” he said. “But you’re right, I was at the viewing. So, you see, I know that Roman Hadley and Mark Banner were one and the same. The whole story behind the double identity of your former leader is fascinating.”

  He knew that this bluff wouldn’t last long. He was well aware that he wouldn’t fool them all. Then, the one that he saw as the smartest among them spoke.

  “Yes, but we can never elaborate on that story,” Leah said. “It’s a top-secret, classified FBI case, and only they can declassify it.”

  “Right,” he said. “But, then there’s the case of Nurse Tracy Kimball, remember her?”

  They all stared at him, but still, he saw eyes swiftly dart around at each other.

  “I found one of her last emails as equally fascinating.” Now, Cory pulled the folded paper from his coat pocket and watched as the same darting eyes went wide in disbelief. “It’s clear that she hired you all to investigate her suspicion that she was being haunted. I also know that she was with you all the night she died. Dr. Logan, you showed up at the scene, or who knows, maybe you all were there when Tracy died.”

  He heard his voice slightly rise in indignation, a response he hadn’t expected.

  “What is it that you want, Mr. Chase?” Dylan had notably disregarded his instruction to call him Cory, but not a problem. Soon, they would all know each other better. He leaned forward to emphasize what he was about to say.

  “I know that you’re all going into Cedar Manor,” he said. “I want to watch what you do. I want to know if what you do is real. I want to see it with my own eyes. I want to know why there’s so much secrecy surrounding your society. I want in, and I’m going in with you.”

  Leah stood from the table, looming over and casting her eyes down on him.

  “So, you’re willing to subject a dead woman, and her family, to ridicule and unwanted publicity at a time when they should be finding closure, just to get the lowdown on us and attend one o
f our investigations?”

  “Of course he is,” Susan said. “After all, he can’t report on the larger story of Roman Hadley. You could find yourself in trouble with the FBI. Isn’t that right, Mr. Chase?”

  “Maybe,” Cory said. “But, tell-all books about small places like Green Valley often sell well. Rumors and stories have to begin somewhere, right?”

  “I think it’s more than that,” Sidney said. “I think Mr. Chase, here, just wants a chance to investigate Cedar Manor, since that’s where the murders happened years ago and Angus Marlowe eventually disappeared. If there were activity in that house, it would make a great story, right, Mr. Chase?”

  “Hey, possibly even a movie,” Cory said, his smart-ass savvy almost oddly appropriate.

  “What I want to know is how you got your hands on that email, Mr. Chase.” Brett, the hippie guy he’d for some reason nicknamed, ‘wolf boy,’ addressed him for the first time. “The only way you could’ve discovered that email is if you were inside our computer system. Being a tech expert, I can always tell if we’ve been hacked. Remind me to do that.”

  Brett said this to Dylan Rasche, and Cory hadn’t considered that one of them would be a tech expert. He’d have to be far more diligent with his plotting in the future. It was little slips like these that would undo him. He stayed calm, trying to keep every muscle of his face intact and show every random tic as merely a gesture.

  “So, what’s next?” Leah said. “You forget about Tracy, and Roman Hadley, if we let you come with us? Is that what you’re asking?”

  “And the rights to publish any story that comes out of there,” he said. “I’ll even cut your society in for half of the proceeds. And of course, yes, I destroy the copies of Tracy’s email and the evidence I have on Roman Hadley’s true identity.”

  “What evidence?” Susan said. He reached over and tossed her a small Photostat of the MSB Enterprises business card. “Here’s a small souvenir for you, Dr. Logan. There’s that, and a few other things as well.”