Trouble at Thunder Mountain

by M J Waverly

  “We’re here to talk to Commissioner Smith.” I forced my mouth to curve upwards in a false smile.

  “About what?” She snarled. More dishes clattered and crashed in the background. “Wait a minute.”

  The woman closed the door and shouted. “Get out of this house, you cow.”

  Suddenly, the door opened again, and the mysterious but loud redhead leaned against the door frame, she leaned forward, so that Jason could get a peak of her cleavage in her clingy black jersey dress. “What do you want, again?” She remained focused on Jason.

  I stepped into her line of eyesight and blocked her view of my boss. “We’re with the Third Eye Investigations, and some neighbors called and said you have a paranormal problem.”

  “You’re the girl who talks to ghosts.” The woman jerked me by the arm almost pulling my arm out of the socket. “Come inside.”

  Jason followed.

  Inside, furniture was overturned. Ceramic vases had been broken on the dark hardwood floors. Bits of broken glass glimmered and crunched as I traversed over it in my Converse tennis shoes.

  “Paranormal problem. That is an understatement. I have a bitch ghost haunting my house, and I’m not leaving. I want you to get rid of his wife.”

  “His wife?” I acted stupid. Dr. Smith must be behind the broken vases and furniture. Some ghosts find new purpose in haunting a house or someone. This seemed to be Dr. Ingrid Smith’s fate.

  “Yes, my lover’s wife haunts our house.” The woman tossed back her red hair. “You see her.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Natasha.” Dr. Ingrid Smith descended down the spiral staircase like a queen in a palace.

  Recognition dawned on me. This woman was Natasha Thornton, and she’d been with Babs Abernathy when George died.

  Dr. Smith waved a somewhat translucent hand, and then a glass bear figurine flew off a bookcase. I ducked just in time, but the glass bear smacked Natasha in the forehead, she slapped her hand over forehead and slumped to the floor, and she moaned in pain as she rose up on her knees.

  Jason rushed to Natasha’s side and helped her to stand.

  “This is my house. Ralph is my husband, and I will never leave, ” Dr. Smith folded her arms across her chest, and she turned. “Hello, Sidney.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Sidney, it’s good to see you.” Dr. Smith sparkled with energy as she adjusted her shawl around her shoulders. As far as ghosts go, she appeared healthy. Nice glow.

  “Good to see you, Dr. Smith. I’m surprised you changed residents.”

  “I wasn’t haunting the administrative building, not when I had a beautiful home. She motioned with her hand. “I’m not having this harpy staying in my house that I worked so hard to decorate and pay for.”

  Anger would keep a ghost anchored to our world. Dr. Smith seemed happy bringing misery to her husband and his mistress.

  Natasha leaned against Jason, smooshing her breasts against him. My eye was drawn to the glass bear , Dr. Smith had thrown I picked it up and placed it back on the shelf, reminding me of George and the Iceberg Cooler Company’s polar bear trademark. Symbols. Sigils. Bears.

  “Will you be okay?” Jason helped Natasha to the sofa.

  She pulled him down next to her and wrapped her hand around his. “I’m fine. However, there are others, who won’t be.” She glowered up at Dr. Smith. Her eyes dilated, and she held up her hands. “Call me a harpy, you bitch ghost.” Firecracker-like sparks emitted from Natasha fingers but soon died out.

  Natasha was a witch. How many witches lived in Cloverville?

  She gazed directly into Jason’s eyes. He glanced over at me. “Will you help me?” Natasha looped her arm through Jason’s. “You can get rid of the ghost. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

  A desperate expression flashed across Jason’s face.

  I nodded. “I need to talk to Dr. Smith, alone.”

  Natasha stood and pulled Jason to his feet. “We’ll be in the kitchen. I made brownies this afternoon.”

  Once Jason and Natasha left the living room, Dr. Smith glided over and sat down upon a robin’s egg blue Queen Anne’s chair without sinking into the cushion. She crossed her legs. “As you have probably concluded, Natasha Thornton is a witch. My husband met her in another coven in Atlanta.”

  I jerked my thumb toward the kitchen. “Did you know about her when you were alive?” I asked Dr. Smith.

  She shook her head. “Natasha isn’t that powerful because she can’t get rid of me.” Dr. Smith laughed and pounded the arms of the Queen Anne chair, but her fists sank through the material. “She’s tried to increase her power by reading spells from someone’s Book of Shadows she found recently, but I’m the stronger of the two, even as a ghost.”

  “Did you hear about Teresa Duncan at Thunder Mountain Park,” I asked.

  “What happened to her?” Dr. Smith’s eyebrows drew together.

  “She was murdered.”

  “Oh, not Teresa.” Dr. Smith rose from the chair and bobbed over to the bookcase. I heard some muffled sniffs as if Dr. Smith tried not to cry. “Do you have any idea who did it?” She asked in a hoarse voice.

  “No. The sheriff’s department has her body. They’ll do an autopsy, but I think she was killed by what is happening at the park either by the Blood Collector or by George Abernathy, or a Nightstalker.”

  “Did she come back as a ghost?” Dr. Smith whirled around.

  “No,” I answered. Dr. Smith placed her hand over her chest. “Good. She found peace in the light.”

  Interesting reaction.

  “Do you think Teresa’s death is connected with mine?” Dr. Smith asked. “Through him?”

  We both knew she meant the Blood Collector. Honestly, I had been surprised I hadn’t seen him at Thunder Mountain Park, especially if searched for a source of power.

  “I don’t know. I need your help.” I held up the list of witnesses Uncle Joe had given me. “These are the people who witnessed George’s death. From the witness’s description of what happened to him, the Nightcrawlers killed him with magi.”

  I didn’t tell Dr. Smith my source. She removed her eyeglasses from her jacket pocket, glided over and read the names.

  Natasha entered the formal living room, high heels clicking on the tile floor. “You’re supposed to help get rid of her, not befriend her.”

  Jason shrugged. “That’s not my area.”

  “What is your area?” Natasha straightened. Her eyes flashing with anger.

  Dr. Smith pointed at Camilla Green. “I heard Ralph mention her. We always kept our identities secret and even used a forgetfulness spell when it came to our member names. To keep things fuzzy. However, I don’t think she was a member. More of a solitary witch specializing in herbs used in spells.”

  Ava worked with Camilla Green on the visitor center’s landscaping. I didn’t say anything to Jason. I didn’t want to bring my sister into this situation with the ghosts.

  Jason arched an eyebrow. “Since she worked on the Visitor’s Center landscaping, and she was there when George died, let’s talk to Camilla Green, tomorrow. She may know something about George and the recent events, but I have to get back to work. Dad has texted me fourteen times in the past hour.”

  “I think you should know Babs Abernathy attended a couple of the historical society meetings.” Dr. Smith winked. The historical society of Cloverville was actually a cover and excuse for the members of a coven to meet.

  “Be careful, Sidney. The darkness is growing. Have you had contact with him?” Dr. Smith asked. The ‘him’ referred to the Blood Collector. Even the ghosts were afraid to call him by his name. Everyone was acting as if the Blood Collector was Voldemort.

  “Just George.”Interesting to know, Babs Abernathy had attended historical society meetings, which I had learned comprised of a lot of witches and warlocks. Babs had said the coven was George’s deal. She might not have been a Nightstalker, but she could’ve been a member of another coven.

  �
��Have you?” I cut my eyes over at Dr. Smith.

  “Yes, he came to me. He offered me power and a position, but I turned him down. I would like to travel to the Bright Side, but I have some unresolved issues.” She looked over her shoulder at Natasha.

  “At Thunder Mountain Park, they’re having a harvest festival sponsored by Iceberg Cooler. It needs to be canceled, but the town commissioners and others refuse to stop it. George will hurt a lot of people. Can you talk to your husband to stop it?”

  Dr. Smith flashed a grin. “It will give me a lot of pleasure to convince Ralph the festival should be canceled. Emma isn’t the only ghost with a bag of tricks.”

  Dr. Smith’s scarf transformed into a huge snake, slithering around her neck. Her face turned purple and green like a zombie’s, and her well-tailored skirt and jacket became a dominatrix black vinyl suit.

  “Thanks.” I managed to squeak.

  When we returned to Hunsinger’s, it was already four thirty. Jason motioned toward the store. “Why don’t you leave early, today?”

  My intuition went on immediate alert. Jason was lying maybe not lying, but he didn’t want me to return to the office. All of my mistrust issues surfaced. I forced a smile on my face as I wiped my sweaty palms down my jeans. I decided then and there to do some investigating on my own. I might have to jump the Third Eye ship if he chose Mandy.

  “Sure. I need to work on a writing project.” I would go and talk to Camilla Green. And I needed to check out Babs Abernathy’s possible connection with the coven, since she never mentioned the historical society meetings. Could she be involved with the Nightstalkers? First, I would check with Ava, and see what she could tell me about Camilla Green.

  “See you tomorrow.” Jason opened the van door and strode away without saying anything else or looking back.

  On my way to my truck, I glimpsed Mandy in the automotive shop as she talked to one of the technicians. My stomach clenched, and I squeezed my hands into fists. I may have trust issues, but I was determined to stop George the ghost, or whoever was behind his recent change before anyone else got hurt.

  Or died.

  At Thyme Keepers, my sister’s truck beat-up, rusted red truck was parked in the driveway. Talking to her about Camilla Green would be difficult especially after this morning’s drama over dad

  I entered the barn-shaped building, which housed their storefront and office. My brother-in-law sat at a desk and worked at a computer monitor. He looked up with a smile then it formed into a scowl.

  “I hope you’ve come to apologize.” Ethan’s face hardened.

  “I need to talk to her.” I wasn’t revealing my reasons for being here, and I absolutely had no intention to apologize to Ava. She created this mess with Dad. She could clean it up.

  “She’s been upset. She just wants her family to get along.” Ethan tightly gripped the mouse

  “That’s not going to happen. Not with Dad. Too much pain.” I could feel a twitch starting in my right eye.

  “Can you at least try?” Ethan raked his hand through his thick black curly hair. My brother-in-law was a good looking guy with tanned skin, a body which said I work out, and overall he could be nice when he didn’t take an attitude. Once, I overheard him talking to Ava that I was a lot like Dad because I didn’t have a real job, but had followed my pipe dream to be a writer.

  “This was a mistake.” I turned around.

  Ethan jerked his head toward the back. “Ava is working in the garden.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Ethan went back to work on his computer without any further acknowledgment.

  I walked out the back door and into the landscaped gardens. My sister planted mums in a flowerbed. Preparing for autumn. Dragonflies and butterflies flitted around her as if she was a fairy.

  “I spoke with the fairy guardian of Thunder Mountain Park, and she has little furry animals that gather around her like the butterflies and dragonflies do with you? Do you speak with the fairies?” I asked.

  Ava stopped digging and leaned on the shovel handle. “No. They don’t speak to me, but your magic is more powerful than mine. I thought you could only talk to ghosts.”

  “My powers are growing each and every day.” I held my arms wide. “Trust me, you don’t want to deal with the nightmares that come with it.”

  “Maybe that’s why Nana never trained you, trying to keep the nightmares away. “ Ava blinked several times as if struggling not to cry. “What do you want? Have you come to apologize?

  “No. I don’t think I’m wrong. Dad is an asshat, but if you want him in your life, that is your choice. Not mine. Not Laney’s. Not Mom’s. If you can respect that, I can respect your decision.”

  Ava wiped her hands and blinked hard several times. “Why are you here?”

  “I have to stop a ghost from hurting people at The Thunder Mountain Harvest Festival this weekend. Ranger Teresa Duncan was murdered this morning.”

  Ava paled. “How can I help you?”

  “I need to meet Camilla Green. You both worked on the visitor’s center landscaping. Can you tell me how to find her?”

  “Why?” Ava asked.

  “Her name came up this afternoon,” I said.

  “She runs a private gardening and retreat center near Lake Elliott, somewhere close to the marina.

  “I heard she sold herbs used in spells for the local witches.”

  Ava opened her mouth about to say something and then nodded. “Yes, but it doesn’t make her evil if that is what you’re insinuating. She’s a good woman, who believes in helping others with her abilities.”

  “No, but her name is associated with a dark coven, so if you have anything to do with her, I’d be careful.”

  A shocked Ava gasped. “Camilla has always been a good friend, and she’s always offered good advice on plants, and she has guided me on the best times to plant. She’s taught me herb lore, she’s a good person.”

  “She may be a good person, but is she a good witch. I need to speak to her about something that happened at the park ten years ago. She could be connected with what is happening to George, now.”

  Ava gave me Camilla’s address. Tension still existed between us, and it would until we found a way to accept each other’s decision about Dad.

  I’d plugged Camilla Green’s address into my phone GPS. My map app gave me verbal directions as I drove to Lake Elliot. The setting sun cast rose hues across the sky, and a restless feeling of needing to do something flowed through me. The lake shimmered as my truck tires thudded across the bridge.

  Images of Jason and Mandy having their wedding photos taken by Todd and Cyrus along the shore of Lake Elliot flashed in my mind. I squirmed in my seat. I didn’t want to think about Jason and Mandy.

  Move on.

  Would Camilla Green have any information about George Abernathy’s death? Could she be the one who’d used magic to send him down the mountain in his bear suit?

  I followed the directions from my phone. Turn onto Crow Valley Road. It was the typical two-lane dirt road found off the main road in Cloverville. Something passed over me as I drove through an invisible force field.

  Interesting.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect with my meeting with Camilla Green. My tense conversation with Ava played over in my mind. As the oldest sister, she always thought she knew what was best for Laney and me. Ava’s way was the only way.

  Determined not to let Dad wreck my life, I intended to stay away from him and Taffy. Good luck to my new little half-brother or sister. I didn’t want the responsibility of raising the kid, and if we weren’t careful, Dad would dump that responsibility on either Ava, Laney, or me.

  “Turn onto Willow Bend Road.” The monotone voice from my phone directed me. I turned onto a dirt road. My truck tires crunched over the gravel.

  Camilla Green lived out in the boonies as Nana would say. The sun had almost set, and red and purple streaks painted the evening sky.

  I checked deep within my senses. Ho
ping for a sign. Nothing, but I wasn’t exactly convinced that all was well. I almost expected the Blood Collector to make an appearance. Definitely his style.

  Early dusk had settled in around me. I turned on my truck’s headlights.

  Messages appeared on wooden signs on trees. This way.

  I continued down the dirt road.

  Another sign appeared. I stopped. This way to Neverland. Invitation by Pan only.

  “Invitation by Pan only?” More fairies?

  Another sign: Keep going.

  An arrow formed in midair pointing to the right. Interesting. I turned on a tree-lined road.

  I kept driving. My instincts remained calm. No alerts to evil or dark magic.

  To the right, in a fenced-in pasture, two Appaloosa horses galloped alongside the truck. Up ahead, I saw a large red barn and beyond the barn, a large garden with a few remaining sunflowers clinging to life. I remembered the sunflowers from my dream. A chill crept through me. Was this place and Camilla Green the connection to Ava in my dream?

  A small Craftsman-style house with river stone columns and a wide front porch tucked in among tall oaks with bright orange leaves.

  I parked my truck and stepped out. The air was scented with the tang of cold air with promises of frosty mornings.

  The horses whinnied. I waved at them.

  “They told me we had a guest.” A woman with long gray hair covered by a straw hat gazed down at me from the barn door.

  “Hi, you must be Camilla Green?” I strode forward, but stopped. An invisible barrier was in place around the barn. I couldn’t pass through it.

  “Depends on what you want.” She studied me.

  California life experience coming into play. I’d learned to hold my head high and never drop eye contact when making the rounds with secretaries at movie studios and agencies. I leveled my gaze with Camilla Green’s.

  “I’m Sidney Latimer. I need to speak to you about what is happening at Thunder Mountain Park.”

  Camilla narrowed her eyes. “Yes. She said you’d be coming to speak to me.”