The Third Eye of Leah Leeds

by Christopher Carrolli

  She looked at it and closed her eyes. As if given a cue, Cory stood and walked backwards a few steps away from the table, keeping his eyes on them. Then, he stopped.

  “So, do we have a deal?”

  “Okay,” Dylan said. “So, you’ll be going with us, tomorrow night? I hope you didn’t have too much planned for Christmas Eve.”

  Dylan patted him hard on the back, and Cory could feel the dumbfounded expression as it formed on his face.

  “Why would you all be investigating that place tomorrow, on a holiday?”

  “Maybe if you cared, you’d understand,” Leah said.

  “Or even researched your local history a little more,” Sidney said.

  Cory’s expression remained unchanged, and he sighed.

  “Christmas Eve?” he asked, incredulously. “There’s a storm coming.”

  “Take it or leave it,” Dylan said.

  He nodded his head in agreement. Dylan told him what time to return tomorrow.

  “We leave from here,” he said. “And one last thing, don’t get in our way. You do your job, and let us do ours.”

  “Oh,” Sidney said, “just one last thing, Mr. Chase...the door.”

  Cory turned and looked at the door quizzically, and then Sidney finished.

  “Don’t let it hit you in the ass.”

  Cory left room 208, listening to Leah’s Leeds’ soft giggle, and feeling only slightly victorious. He hadn’t planned on spending Christmas Eve in a haunted house, but like his father always said, ‘Careful what you wish for.’

  He stepped outside into the brisk December air, amazed at how fast the snow was falling, more so than earlier. He looked up at the windows of the second floor of Levin Hall and wondered...I hope those idiots know what they’re doing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She was awakened by the dream in the early morning hours of Christmas Eve, but this time was different. Usually, the dream progressed further each time, adding another image into the heart-pounding sequence. This time, the dream stopped midway through.

  It began as it always had: the grandfather clock, her mother’s body swinging from the noose, the face of the dead woman, the clock again. Then, just as Agnes was about to smile from the rocker, the sight of her was quickly interrupted, replaced by the spool of yarn that Leah began chasing down the hallway. The spool of yarn...where had it come from?

  And then, she awoke, unexpectedly curled in the fetal position. Now, she laid on her back, staring at the ceiling and thinking about that part of the dream—the spool of yarn. The spool of red yarn had been rolling and unwinding across the floor, and Leah had chased it down the hallway, but then the dream ended. That part of the dream was what was different; that part had never actually happened in her lifetime.

  And this time, the dream had skipped something—Agnes. Her quick appearance had been interrupted. She awoke thinking of the old woman. Was Agnes trying to tell her something?

  How odd that the dream had suddenly stopped. Today, she felt not as stressed and agitated, even somewhat lulled. Maybe it was the pills Susan had prescribed, maybe it was the cross Hollywood had placed in her hand, or maybe it was because it was finally going to happen. She didn’t know, but she would either put an end to all this by tomorrow, or worse, she wouldn’t be here tomorrow.

  The memory of yesterday’s meeting was like a briefly forgotten drunken moment finally remembered. Everything was going swiftly, she’d seen Tahoe again, though Brett had been acting strangely, and then Cory Chase walked through the door.

  So, that son-of-a-bitch is blackmailing us, threatening to expose a dead woman’s last days and throw us into the gossip pool over Roman Hadley’s real identity. And to think I once thought he was cute.

  She thought not only of Cory’s blue eyes and blond, shaggy hair, but of all the negative implications of having him around: an extra, unwanted wheel in the way, the tension he would add to the excursion, having to worry about that sorry son-of-a-bitch’s safety, but worst of all, having their confidential secrets exposed. But for just a moment, she thought of a positive reason for having him around. What if they somehow solved the mystery of Angus Marlowe? Certainly he might be able to break the story and at last, bring final justice to the victims and their families.

  But she doubted if Cory Chase’s intentions were about anyone but himself.

  Last night, she and Sidney had gone to dinner, and over crab legs, talked about how mysteriously Brett had been acting. Leah had noticed it herself the last time she’d seen him, the way he’d abruptly left a meeting, but she’d thought no more of it. Sidney was unrelenting over the way Brett had found Tahoe in what had been less than two days. She knew he wouldn’t let go of this one.

  “So, how does he catch a flight from here to Arizona, locate a man he’s seen only once in a book, and convince him to fly back with him, all in about, thirty-six hours?” Sidney had been emphatically pointing his finger to the table top after leaning in towards her. “I mean, especially since his only clue was ‘Arizona desert.’ Wow, I bet that narrowed it down a bit. Don’t you find that just a little bit strange, or maybe, miraculous?”

  “Sort of,” she’d said. “But I don’t really care, just as long as he’s here.”

  She’d shrugged, snapping crab legs with her bare hands. Sidney had shaken his head.

  “I don’t know,” he’d said. “Brett has been acting strangely, and I think once this is all over, we need to find out why.”

  After rehashing yesterday in her mind, she tried to focus on the fact that right now it was Christmas Eve, and after lengthy deliberation, she got out of bed. She walked over to her bedroom window and looked outside. She’d been praying for exaggeration as far as the weather reports were concerned, and now she saw that while the snow had piled slightly, the weather outside was downcast, gray, and rain now mixed with snow to make perfect sleet. She frowned as that would mean only one thing—ice.

  After showering and having a light breakfast of toast and coffee, she sat in her living room, watching a Christmas Eve parade on television, when there was a knock at the door. It was Tahoe, and they smiled at each other as she opened the door for him.

  “I’m so glad you came to see me,” she said, closing the door behind him.

  “So, tonight’s the night,” he said, as they sat on the sofa. “I wanted the chance to speak with you alone before we go. I know that you’re wise beyond your years, but I want to make sure you understand everything beforehand.”

  She pressed the mute button and silenced the parade.

  “Understand what?” She was slightly puzzled, and the last thing she wanted right now was more bad news; she just wanted to go in.

  “Do not underestimate what’s inside that house, child,” he said. “As I have already explained, it’s been waiting for you. You must be on your guard at all times and never lose your nerve or your faith in the ultimate being.”

  She smiled at him, ashamed to reveal that though she was a person of faith, she’d been somewhat rusty as of late. It was the one part of her that she prayed would sustain itself.

  “I will be on my guard,” she said. “The whole team will be there, and Susan, my father, and you—you’ll be there.”

  “Yes,” he said. “But, I want you to understand that not even I can tell you what your third eye sees. I can only tell you what mine sees, and I have always wondered, over the years, whether your third eye may be even more powerful than my own.”

  He laughed with her and then continued...

  “The third eye is a gateway to other realms and higher consciousness. The one who possesses the third eye may connect with the future, the past, and especially the dead. It comes from the inner self, the soul, which means that the possessor has a very powerful soul.

  “Demons are weakened souls, undead, restless minions. That’s why they often possess, to become powerful, to capture that person’s soul, and become strong through the body. They thrive on those whose souls are powerful. The beholder
of the third eye is a marked possession.”

  “So, you’re saying that they may try to possess me?”

  “Likely, but unpredictable,” he said. “It’s known that one of Lucifer’s gifts as an angel was wisdom. After he was thrown down to the blazing pit of Hell, recapturing that wisdom has been the constant plight of him and his underlings. That house has served as part of their domain. It houses the vessel through which demons may pass.”

  “But that house has also served as a prison,” she said, “a prison for those that were murdered there. The souls of those women are trapped inside that house, they can’t escape.”

  Tahoe closed his eyes, something she’d noticed that he did when a dire truth was told.

  “So, you see it, as well,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. “And I have to set them free, as well as myself, or I’ll go crazy.”

  They discussed the house more, until finally, Leah thought to ask a question.

  “Sidney seemed to find it amazing how fast Brett had found you. I can’t believe you flew all the way back with him.”

  Tahoe threw his head back and laughed, much like he did when she was a little girl and she’d said something childlike about a ‘real Indian.’

  “Yes, child,” he said, holding and patting her hand. “Kind of like that.”

  Tahoe’s ambiguity struck her as odd as he continued laughing and rose from the sofa, donning his coat to leave. That’s strange; why won’t he talk about Brett?

  “I’ll see you all at the university, later,” he said, as she led him out the door. “Don’t worry, child. Be brave, for we are united and strong in number. Maintain your focus. Stand your ground against evil. You will win.”

  He turned and left, and she watched him walk up the walkway. He’d taken a cab that now waited at the end of it. She noticed sleet had begun to fall in frigid patches that would cover the ground and mix with the snow—not good news.

  As Tahoe got into the cab, she thought of him dodging the question she’d asked about Brett. She continued to watch him, and suddenly, like a flash of lightning in front of her eyes, she saw a vision of a huge bird, a hawk, with the largest wingspan she’d ever seen. It flapped its wings across the sunlit sky. Then, the vision was gone.

  She didn’t understand it. What did it have to do with Cedar Manor? She sighed in frustration. When she told Tahoe that she might go crazy, she feared she might have spoken too soon. She listened to the hollow pit-pat of the sleeting ice as it hit her roof, and then she released the TV’s mute button.

  She sat in oblivion, blindly watching a parade.

  * * * *

  Dylan had heard from Detective Goddard; the utilities in Cedar Manor had been turned on. They were permitted to enter at their own convenience. Dylan had phoned them all one by one, and all of them were awaiting the news. He needed to say only two words with each call.

  “It’s time.” All of them were on their way.

  But as Dylan had made his way to the university, the sleet had turned back into snow, and now it tumbled from the sky in massive spirals. He’d made it to the university, although sliding a few times on the back roads, and now he wondered if the main roads were being salted. Dylan became well aware that they had little time to make it to Cedar Manor as the storm was beginning to create white-out conditions. Now, he sat in room 208 and awaited their arrivals.

  Leah arrived first, as he’d expected, then Susan brought Tahoe and Paul, and then Brett and Sidney arrived. Now, all of them were assembled for one final run through, like a director’s final notes before the lights went up.

  “The utilities are on in Cedar Manor,” Dylan began. “But as you’ve all witnessed on the way over here, this storm is horrendous. We don’t have much time. The equipment has already been loaded into the van. There’s room for four of us.”

  “Then you four should go in the van, as always,” Susan said. “I’ll drive Tahoe and Paul in my car.”

  All agreed, and Dylan continued to brief them on safety precautions.

  “We need to stick together at all times, and remember to not get in each other’s way. We’ll be inside a house that has been uninhabited for over sixteen years. There’s bound to be a great deal of dust, cobwebs, spiders, maybe even rodents. We can’t let those things distract us. Once we get the lights on, we’ll do an impromptu investigation, taking it room by room, floor by floor, and then we’ll get to the basement. I think that may be the best way to go in this case.”

  As always, Dylan went through final directions, clarifications, and prayers for good luck.Then, Sidney brought something to his attention.

  “Hey, what about our guest,” he said. “Hasn’t he arrived yet?”

  “Ah, Mr. Chase,” Dylan said. “I told him what time to be here. Okay, I misled him by a half-hour, but if he’s not here in five minutes, we’re leaving without him.”

  They giggled over the slapping sound of high fives that went up in the air.

  * * * *

  Cory stood in the doorway of Ed’s Diner and watched as the snow fell in a funnel shaped gust much like a tornado. He marveled at how the funnel came down and pummeled the ground that was quickly accruing accumulation—unbelievable. He could see only the shape of his car through the window as the fast moving sea of white enveloped the early darkness. Just getting to his car appeared risky enough, but getting to the university, and then Cedar Manor, seemed damn near impossible.

  Why the hell would they go in there tonight, on Christmas Eve, in the middle of what will definitely be deemed a blizzard? It must have been the fiftieth time he’d asked himself that question. An inner vibe told him to stay home for the holidays, get drunk, and forget about the story of the investigators. But no good reporter passed up a story, especially if those kids had seen something the night their friend died, and the investigators were covering it up.

  Yet an odd churning in the pit of his stomach, as well as thoughts of relaxing at home with a few beers in front of the fireplace, began to dissuade him. He felt like going home.

  But what if Leah Leeds became part of the ghostly spotlight tonight? Or better yet, what if I can prove that they’re all nuts?

  Either way, he had to be there. In the face of the storm, he thought it wise to leave early for the university. Not only that, but an educated guess told him that Dylan Rasche had given him a phony time. He would be there early, just in case. The Christmas bells hanging from the door of Ed’s Diner jingled behind him as he closed it and made a mad dash to his car.

  He scraped the new snow from his windshield and windows and allowed the motor to run. Soon, he was on his way to the university. The windshield wipers squeaked in overtime, brushing away the falling snow back and forth across the glass. The icy roads caused him to slide a total of three times, but he made it to the university faster than expected.

  He climbed the stairs to room 208. He hoped they were happy to see him.

  They were leaving their headquarters just as he made it to the door. He stood in the doorway, holding his arms outward, side to side.

  “Just in time,” he said. His surprise was met with audible groans, hisses, and glaring eyes.

  In the parking lot, the four investigators piled into the van, while Dr. Logan drove Leah Leeds’ father, and the older man that he now learned was some kind of world-renowned psychic.

  Cory watched as the van led the way out of the lot, and he followed behind the good doctor. So, he was going to be part of the investigators next case, and as the three vehicles traveled steady and single file on the worsening roads, he realized, the expedition was on.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The snow fell fast in a thick, white flurry to the ground, while gusty winds blew already fallen snow upward into swirling eddies. Sidney drove slowly to avoid sliding; Susan and Cory drove likewise behind the van. Leah watched through the rear-view mirror and held her breath the entire drive. If they crashed out on these back roads during a snowstorm, it would be her fault, and she would never hear
the end of it from Dylan.

  But within the twenty minutes it took to arrive at Cedar Drive, the snow began to taper off to a mere dusting, and the winds died down to a bare minimum. Leah felt herself breathe for a moment as the storm suddenly took a hiatus, yet her heart began to pound, and the blood raced through her veins when she saw the bridge. She’d forgotten about the bridge that connected to Cedar Drive.

  What if the storm picked up again, and the bridge became closed off? She hadn’t even considered the possibility; she hadn’t given the bridge a single thought in years. Soon, the familiar one-way street sign that read ‘Cedar Drive’ appeared in front of her.

  It was just yards away, at the end of the lane.

  Soon, this will all be over, she thought. Yet, she didn’t know how.

  “Well, they did say the storm would be sporadic,” she said, looking back at the still skeptical Dylan, hoping to reassure him, but he only stared back at her.

  Suddenly, Sidney’s voice erupted in a tone a little louder than normal

  “Have I slid one step of the way?” Leah noticed his eyes staring into the rear-view mirror at Dylan as he asked.

  “They’re sliding behind us,” Dylan said.

  “They don’t know how to drive—I do!” Sidney said. Leah couldn’t help but snicker, seeing Sidney’s uncharacteristic outburst overshadow his comical side. She knew that if anyone would back her every step of the way, it would be Sidney. “And if Susan cracks her car up again like last time, well, let’s just say that’s two for two.”

  Leah turned her laughing face to the side lest she be the cause of an argument.

  “Look, we were going in at one time or another,” Brett said, “We may as well go now, since we have Tahoe, and it is the anniversary of Sheila Barton’s murder, so this may be the time for ghostly activity. Let’s just stop arguing, go, and get it over with.”