Trouble at Thunder Mountain

by M J Waverly

  “Are they canceling the festival?” Jason asked.

  I crossed my fingers.

  “No. They insist we have it. Seems the Cloverville commissioners insisted that it continue, and they’ve taken out more advertising, especially with the news reporting the park is haunted. They’re thinking of adding a last-minute ghost tour. They’re expecting more visitors. How long do you think it will take you to be here? I have more information, but I need to speak with you in person.”

  My mind itched. Something was wrong. I knew it.

  “We can be there in thirty minutes,” I answered.

  “I’ll be waiting.” Teresa’s voice wavered as if she wanted to say something else.

  “What other information do you think she had?” Jason asked.

  “I think she’ll tell us she and George were working together, and she knows more about this dark coven and the symbols than she’s revealed.” I turned to Jason. “Can you drive faster?”

  He looked back at me. “What do you feel?”

  “Darkness and danger.” Cold filled me. I tapped into my magic, envisioning light. The Book of Shadows had been right. Tap into the light. From now on, I would imagine myself as a solar panel whenever I stood out in the sun.

  When we arrived at Thunder Mountain Park, we rushed to the Visitor’s Center.

  “Ranger Duncan is in her office.” Tex pointed past the gift shop.

  Jason led the way and knocked on Ranger Duncan’s door.

  No answer.

  “Is it open?” I asked.

  Jason twisted the doorknob. “It’s locked.”

  “That’s strange.” The ominous feeling of something wrong swept through me. “Can you open it?”

  He nodded. Light energy pulsed from his hand

  I gasped. “That’s new.”

  “You’re not the only one with interesting changes.” He turned the knob, and the door slowly creaked open.

  Ranger Duncan’s office was a mixture of wildlife and new age metaphysical gift shop. It smelled of sandalwood and patchouli as if she might have recently burnt some incense. She had framed photos of bears, mountains, and paintings of fairies on her walls.

  “Ranger Duncan,” I called.

  Above the desk, fading sigils similar to the ones in the cave rotated in midair. Dark magic pulsed from each one.

  A khaki pants leg extended out from beneath her desk. Her hat laid askew near the filing cabinet. Cold fear and warm nausea churning in my stomach hit me at the same time.

  Grabbing Jason by the shoulder, I pointed. “Look.”

  We rushed to Ranger Duncan’s side and rolled her over. Her glazed eyes were wide open staring into an abyss of nothingness, and she wasn’t breathing. I checked for a pulse. Nothing.

  “Is she dead?” Jason asked.

  Chapter Eleven

  The world reeled in upon me. Teresa Duncan was dead. I reached out for her spirit. Any trace of her essence. Nothing. Much like when I used my power to seek Nana. A wall of nothing.

  Jason went and found Tex Williamson, who then called 911. He closed the Visitor’s Center.

  He locked Teresa’s office. “We don’t want to mess up the crime scene,” his slow drawl quaked as he blinked several times.

  Jason talked to his Dad on his cell phone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He paced back and forth in front of the Thunder Mountain animal habitat display.

  I studied the giant black bear standing on its hind legs, waving its paws as if greeting visitors with a happy hello. I leaned close to peek up close at the vast claws. Dang. One swat. It would leave several inch deep gouges in your skin. The eyes of the bear blinked, and then it waved at me. A shimmer glowed around the outline of the bear, and Iceberg Polar Bear George stepped out. He drifted through the display glass and hovered in front me.

  “Fancy meeting you here.” George’s eyes glowed bright red.

  I tensed, and my heart raced. Stay calm. I learned not to give into my fright and flight first response to ghosts and the Blood Collector.

  I waited for George to make the next move. Call upon the light. I remembered the advice from my Book of Shadows. I dug inside my messenger bag for it.

  “Nice try.” George waved and then zoomed through the wall and disappeared.

  “What?” I stood in shock. Wouldn’t George have known about Teresa Duncan’s death?

  I pulled out my Book of Shadows and opened to today’s date, hoping for some guidance, an explanation. Something. Nothing. A smiley face formed within the calendar block.

  “How did Teresa Duncan die?” I whispered. The smiley face disappeared.

  Jason found me next to the owl. “I called dad to let him know I wouldn’t be back at work, and he’s not happy. I’ll have to work double overtime for the next month to make up for all the time I’ve missed.”

  I half-way listened to Jason. I had to talk to Teresa Duncan’s spirit, but the office had been locked. Tex Anderson waited at the information desk and watched us like a hawk. He kept glancing up at us and shaking his head. I wonder what the sheriff’s office said to him. I wished Sophie/Kylantha was on duty. She’d be able to help me.

  “How do you think she died?” I asked Jason who started texting on his phone.

  He shrugged without looking up from his phone. I couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. In the distance, I heard the ambulance siren wailing followed by several other sirens.

  Minutes later, the sheriff’s office along with forensics arrived to investigate. Uncle Joe stayed with Jason and me as Detective Longwood interviewed us, scribbling notes outside of the Visitor’s Center.

  “This is what the third time you two have found a body in recent weeks?” The sullen and hard-to-read detective asked. I caught a whiff of stale coffee and ashtray breath.

  “Coincidence.” I wanted to shrivel and hide. Uncle Joe was only ten feet away, leaning against the hood of his patrol car. Sunglasses covered his eyes.

  “Yeah. You’re like your grandmother, always around when the dead show up. Where were you an hour ago?” Detective Longwood scowled. “She would say a ghost did it.”

  I repressed a smile thinking about my tenacious grandmother and Detective Longwood discussing ghost.

  George could have killed Teresa Duncan. I hadn’t sensed his presence in the office. However, whenever I saw him t the bear display, he would’ve said something if he had killed her. Still. . . George materialized inside of the Visitor’s Center as if he hadn’t known Teresa Duncan was dead. Things weren’t adding up.

  “Miss Latimer, any day now. . .” Detective Longwood made a let’s-go-gesture.

  “Jason and I were talking to Babs Abernathy about her husband.” I shoved my hands into my jeans’ pockets; otherwise, I’d pace.

  “Why?” Detective Longwood didn’t look up from his notebook.

  “We suspected that her husband’s ghost haunted Thunder Mountain Park. We investigate paranormal incidents.” I flashed a smile, hoping I didn’t have anything stuck in my teeth.

  Detective Longwood shook his head. “Yeah. Like I said, you’re like your grandmother. Let’s talk about living suspects and witnesses. There was an incident on the full moon hike last night.”

  I nodded.

  “A couple of people were injured,” Jason said. “One of the guys suffered some injuries, including a broken leg. He required surgery.”

  The detective scribbled in his notebook. “Yeah, John Gordon. I’ll be talking to him after they take him off the meds. He’s been screaming ever since they brought him into the emergency room about seeing ghosts.” He looked up and sniffed. “Did you notice anyone having a problem with Ranger Duncan on the hike last night?”

  “The guy with the broken leg had been rude and making nasty comments about the hike running late,” Jason said.

  “He was a bit of an asshole and kept asking when the ghosts would show up,” I said.

  Uncle Joe scowled. He disapproved of my use of profanity.

  “Were there any
other problems on the full moon hike other than a supposed ghost and a guy who fell off the cliff, and this prima donna who was hit by a falling branch?” Detective Longwood flicked his eyes over at Jason.

  “No,” I answered.

  “What’s the name of the girl?” Detective Longwood asked.

  “Mandy Patterson. I accompanied her to the hospital. She’s my ex-fiancé,” Jason’s face turned beet red, and he toed the ground with his boot.

  Detective Longwood finally looked up and at both of us with his foggy gray eyes. “Interesting development.”

  He pointed his pencil at me. “Folks said that you and Dr. Hawthorne remained behind to help Ranger Duncan.”

  “Yes, we did. We went to study a cave down at the end of the trail, near the falls to make sure no one was down there.” I didn’t mention the sigils.

  “Anything else?” Detective Longwood asked. “Ranger Duncan had your name written down on her calendar for today.”

  “Yes, she was running late and had to reschedule because she went to a meeting with park officials to persuade them to cancel the upcoming festival sponsored by Iceberg Coolers.”

  “Why? Because of the injuries?” He furrowed his forehead.

  “Yes, and because she was afraid something else would go wrong at the festival, including that people could be hurt because of George’s instability.”

  “Unstable ghost.” Detective Longwood snorted, and then scribbled more notes. “Anything else?”

  “Over the phone, she said Cloverville city commissioners wanted the festival to continue. They wanted to capitalize on the haunting.”

  “Hmm. Interesting. I’ll make a visit to city hall, today. That’s it. Don’t go out of town. I may have more questions.” Detective Longwood closed his notebook and spoke to the crime scene investigators.

  Uncle Joe escorted us to Jason’s van. “You two stay away from Thunder Mountain Park and from this ghost. Walk away from the investigation.”

  Anxiety filled me as I bounced on my feet. “We can’t. If they continue with the festival, George will hurt more innocent people. Or worse. . . “

  Uncle Joe whipped his sunglasses off his face. Worry clouded his eyes. “Stay out of Thunder Mountain Park. For today.” He frowned. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but the name of the other person to witness George Abernathy’s death was Rob McCloskey. I found it in another file this morning.”

  “I’ll do research on him. Have you heard of a group called the Nightstalkers?”

  Uncle Joe shook his head. “What is it?”

  “Just something I heard from my sources.” I didn’t explain my sources were ghosts, fairy and raccoons.

  He gestured with his sunglasses back at the Visitor’s Center. “I’m needed. Keep me posted if you learn anything from your sources and be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Jason and I entered the van. “What should we do next?” He asked as he buckled his seat belt with a loud click.

  “Talking to Uncle Joe gave me an idea. I think we should check with the ghost network. Do we have time?”

  “What do you mean?” Jason turned around.

  “Let’s drive over to the college and talk to Dr. Smith. She may have an idea about the people on this list.”

  “Dr. Smith? Why would she help us with this case?”

  “A gut feeling. She helped last time,” I said. “It’s a long shot.”

  “Doesn’t mean she will this time?” He pulled out onto the main road back to Cloverville.

  “We can try.”

  We drove to Cloverville Community College and parked in the Administrative Building parking lot. “I thought I was finished with this place.” The school temporarily moved the administrative offices to a different area. The Victorian house, which housed the administrative offices had been closed. The crime scene tape had been removed. I saw a yellow strip still stuck to the wooden column on the front porch. We walked onto the porch.

  “Do your door thing?” I wiggled my fingers at the front door.

  Energy zapped from Jason’s fingers, and the door clicked. I turned the brass knob, carefully pushed the door open, and poked my head around the corner.

  Dust motes danced in shafts of sunlight. An eerie quiet had settled on the once busy building. Chairs had been straightened, and the computer equipment still remained plugged in.

  “Dr. Smith,” I said in a loud whisper.

  The computer monitor clicked on, and the image of Emma formed on the screen. “Hello, Sidney.”

  “Hello, Emma.”

  Jason grabbed my hand and pointed. “I can see her.”

  The ghost drifted up and out of the monitor. Today, Emma wasn’t her normal colorful self, more like an image from an old black and white film from the early twentieth century. She wore a hat, a lace dress which stopped at her bleeding ankles. More like ankle stumps. No feet. This was a new look.

  “Where’s Dr. Smith?” I asked.

  “She’s not here. She moved back home with her husband. She said she wanted to spend this time in domestic bliss with him.” Emma folded her hands against her face. “True love transcends even death.” She tilted her head. “True hate transcends death, too.” She laughed or more like cackled.

  “What do you know about the hiker ghost at Thunder Mountain Park? Have you detected any more darkness from the Void?

  Emma straightened her dress and zipped up close to me until we were inches apart. Her leg stumps dripped black blood onto the floor. “Your powers are growing? Have you seen the fairies?” She twiddled her fingers and gave a lop-sided grin.

  “Yes, I met a fairy.” I waited for Emma’s reaction. I steadied myself for something dramatic like floating computers.

  “There are more, and the Blood Collector doesn’t like them because they protect the mountain and its power.” Emma giggled.

  “What power?”

  Emma swooped close to my face. Her cold breath chilled me, but I pursed my lips to keep my teeth from chattering. “You’ll have to ask the fairies?” She then floated over to Jason. “You’re different.” She tapped her index finger against her chin.

  A wide-eyed Jason’s mouth hung open.

  “You’re confused and conflicted, but I’m not sure about what.” Emma circled him, angling her head. “About a girl?”

  Was Jason confused about his feelings about Mandy? Suddenly impatient, we needed to get more information. “We need to talk to Dr. Smith?”

  “Go to her house.” Emma faded out except her head, reminding me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. What had he said, ‘we’re all mad here.’ I could believe it.

  “Good luck, you’ll need it.” Emma disappeared.

  Jason stared at the space formerly occupied by Emma. He waved this hand where she’d just been. “It’s just air.”

  “Dr. Smith might know something, and she may be able to talk to her husband into canceling the festival.” A long shot, but I had to try.

  “What if we can’t stop the festival? What then?” Jason asked.

  “Let’s hope someone else doesn’t die and become a ghost like George.

  The early afternoon had turned chilly, and the sky had darkened with storm clouds. On the drive over from the college to Dr. Smith’s house, Jason glanced over at me. “Meeting Emma was amazing. She said your powers were growing. How?”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Jason, but if he reconciled with Mandy, I didn’t want her to know what I could do. More complications. Right now, focus on getting the festival canceled and convince George to move on to the Bright Side were at the top of my agenda.

  “It happens at different times.”

  He reached over and squeezed my hand. I liked it, but Camden used to do the same thing when we drove around Los Angeles talking about story ideas, screenplays, and our dreams. I removed my hand from Jason’s.

  Jason flinched. I had to be honest with him. “You need to figure out your feelings about Mandy until you do, we’re co-workers and good friends.
” I stared straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact.

  “I didn’t invite Mandy back into my life.” He ran his hands through his hair.

  “You didn’t turn her away, and I don’t trust her.” I didn’t say anything about the kiss they’d shared at the full moon hike.

  “Turn onto Dixon Drive,” the GPS voice announced as droplets of rain began to fall upon the windshield. Jason turned on the wipers, and they thudded across the glass.

  We rode in an uncomfortable silence until we’d arrived at Dr. Smith’s address. Her house reminded me of a French Chateau with a formal, ornate garden filled with beautiful flowers and landscaped trees that belonged on a golf course, or five-star resort.

  “Wow,” I said. My sister, Ava would love this place.

  “Yeah, no kidding." Jason stared. “This place is nice. How do we get in? Commissioner Smith isn’t exactly going to let us in and talk to his wife who’s a ghost.”

  “It worked with Babs Abernathy. We can say an anonymous neighbor called about paranormal activity. If Dr. Smith is haunting her house, I’m sure Commissioner Smith will be happy to cooperate with two paranormal investigators.”

  Jason gestured at the huge front door. “We can give it a go.

  “I really think Dr. Smith might have some answers. She was a witness to what happened to George ten years ago, she may help us connect George’s death and this recent event where he’s turned evil.”

  I inhaled the flowers including a familiar scent. I sniffed. Rosemary was planted by the door for protection. I rang the doorbell. Jason gawked at the house.

  Yells erupted from inside the house along with the sound of crashing dishes. We locked eyes.

  I rang the doorbell, again.

  A few minutes later, a woman yanked open the door. “What do you want?” She spoke in a thick Southern accent. Red painted claws, I meant nails and a clingy black jersey dress that emphasized her voluptuous figure.

  “What?” She patted her auburn hair as her lusty gaze crawled up and down Jason. She leaned against the door jam and crooked her finger. “You can come inside, but she has to stay outside.”