by Alexie Aaron
“Don’t look to me for any help. Ralph insists on sending me to charm school before he’ll plan our wedding.”
Ted hugged her. “I don’t see the problem. I find you quite charming, dearest,” he said in a posh English accent.
“I know, but he’s all about eff before ew before ce before…” Mia broke off her nasal comment as she spied something on the screen. “Did you guys see that?”
“You mean how the chair in the corner of the room, where Mike’s interviewing the bartender, keeps sliding across the floor as if it is being pulled by fishing tackle? See how the stuff catches the light? Invisible, my ass,” Ted commented.
Mia looked at it again. She glanced at the blueprint and shook her head. “This is weird.”
“Faked obviously,” Cid said.
“But by who? That’s a solid wall. Who’s pulling the string?” Mia asked looking at Ted.
“Could be a hole in the wall? We’ll debunk it after they leave the room. Put it on our honey do list, Cid,” he instructed.
~
The young manager stood nervously in the corner of the small conference room. Cliff Rosemont was a fourth generation hotelier and had been given the task of saving the family’s heritage. The hotel had gone through extensive renovations. The money poured into the dated décor of the post-war building was thought to be a good investment at the time. The assets were huge. The building was close to O’Hare airport, one of the busiest international airports in the United States. Several large convention centers had been recently built in the area. The Rosemont could provide shuttle service to the airport and to the train station. Chicago was mere minutes away by train or cab. The Rosemont had enough land for a vast, secure parking lot free of charge.
On paper the Rosemont should be a goldmine, but it wasn’t. The trouble was ambiance. Travelers wanted a good night’s rest, not to be woken in the night by running footsteps in the halls or the roar of icemakers expelling their contents onto the floor at three AM. Covers being pulled off the occupied beds and personal items relocated were bad enough, but then there was the screams, blood curdling shrieks as if someone was being murdered in the next room. This didn’t help bring in repeat customers.
Team after team of paranormal investigators were called in, and they all came up with the same results. The incidents of the haunts were all proven to be phony. Cliff decided to advertise the hotel as haunted, hoping to at least bring in the thrill seekers. But there too he was disappointed. On the nights when the ghost hunting guests stayed there, nothing abnormal happened. The Rosemont was failing. Staff had to be laid off, and it looked like it would be sold and demolished. Cliff Rosemont would be the last of his kin to greet a guest in the family hotel.
He made one last call. It was to an up and coming group of paranormal investigators that had the reputation of not only capturing the images of the entities but of resting them whenever possible. It was rumored that one of them could actually communicate with the spirits. He thought if he could just understand what the ghosts wanted, he would be happy to oblige them. He would do anything short of murder to save his hotel. The cost of having PEEPs investigate was coming out of his own pocket, much to the distress of his worried spouse.
“Mr. Rosemont, we are ready for you now,” Burt called.
Cliff walked over to where Mike and Audrey had been interviewing the employees who were brave or broke enough to still come to work at the Rosemont. They had all told the stories of their accounts with the entities. It was now time for Cliff to give his testimony in front of the camera.
Mike greeted Cliff with a firm handshake and a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Audrey, however, was full of enthusiasm and empathy for his plight.
“Mr. Rosemont…” Mike began.
“Cliff, please call me Cliff.”
“Cliff, what are your hopes for this investigation?”
“Personally, I’d like you and your team to find out what’s actually going on. It’s no secret that many other investigators have spent time here and classified the Rosemont Hotel’s haunts as being false. I don’t believe they’re correct, but if the activity isn’t paranormal, I would like to know who is doing this. I want it to stop. It has never been my or anyone of my employees intention to scare the guests at this hotel. We want to provide the best experience that could be had by a hotel in the Midwest. My guests need to feel safe in their rooms so that they can continue their journey well rested. I come from a long line of hoteliers. It’s my heritage, something I would like to pass on to my children.” Cliff took a breath and said, “The hotel and its employees are at your service. Please help us to figure out what is going on at the Rosemont.”
Ted looked over at Mia. “I believe the man, how about you?”
Mia swiveled in the command console chair and faced Ted. “I believe him. He’s not the problem here.” She turned to her left and asked, “Cid, you watched the employee interviews, did you get any feeling that any of them weren’t on the up and up?”
“I thought they were nervous. But Mike didn’t exactly put them at ease. He seems more aggressive than normal.”
“More newsman than host,” Mia agreed. “Still, this is the Rosemont’s last chance, and Mike wants them all to know that we will accept no funny business.”
“There’s that phrase again, funny business,” Ted commented. “What exactly is funny business? I’m not talking hoaxes and being up to no good.”
“Three stooges,” Cid offered.
“Lucy, Tina Fey, Bill Murray,” Mia counted out on her fingers.
“Marx brothers, Bob Hope, Rowan…”Cid continued.
“Good examples of funny people, but let’s talk funny businesses.”
“Ah, the man’s got a point,” Mia said wrinkling her brow. Her eyes lit up. “SNL, improvisational groups, comedy clubs…”
“Stand up acts, Vegas,” Cid added.
“Joke shops,” Mia spouted, wishing she hadn’t.
Ted looked at her oddly and asked, “Joke shops?”
“You know like where you buy whoopee cushions and hand buzzers,” Mia explained. “I don’t know if there still are any but…”
“K. Joke shops. Comedians are in the funny business, like we are in the ghost hunting business.”
“There are comedians that are used to warm up audiences before the live shows we see. They are in the funny business,” Cid offered. “Back in the burlesque days they had comedians to warm up the audience before the strippers came out.”
“Strippers! We’ve gone from comedians to strippers. Do all conversational roads lead to naked women with you two?”
“If we’re lucky,” Ted said.
“Mia, if you will allow me to expand upon my explanation…” Cid asked.
“Sure, go ahead, but tread carefully; I have a harassment case already pending with Mr. Martin.”
“Burlesque strippers were more entertainers than just bodies. Some were even funny. Some didn’t remove much at all, but it was the anticipation that drove their audiences wild.”
“So instead of girls gone wild you had innuendo gone ballistic?” she asked.
“Yup, haven’t you seen Natalie Wood in Gypsy?” he asked.
“I’m surprised you have, but to answer your question, no.”
“Ted, you have been neglecting her education.”
“Cid, we’re still working our way through Star Trek. The bubble girl has had little exposure to the outside world. Let’s not throw too much at her.”
“Really,” Mia growled. “Go ahead and make fun, bub. We didn’t have a television in the house. We read.”
“Archeology digest is not reading, it’s punishment,” Ted argued.
“True,” Mia agreed. “Give me time, I’ll catch up. I’m a fast learner. First, interplanetary travel. Next, the subtleties of the bump and grind.”
Ted patted her back. “See, this is why I love her so much.”
Mia turned to give Ted a kiss but found her chair unable to swivel. Ci
d had ahold of her seat back.
“Before you get all mushy, I think we should head up to the third floor and do those EVPs you told Burt we were going to do,” Cid said getting up.
“But I just said that to get Ted out of trouble,” Mia whined.
“Burt’s going to ask for the tapes and…”
“I hear you. Okay, be back in a jiffy, Teddy Bear. Keep those lips limber,” Mia said getting up.
Ted made puckering motions which caused Mia to laugh and Cid to groan. They hopped out of the back of the truck and headed into the lobby.
“Elevator or stairs?” Mia asked.
“Elevator, I have a feeling we will be doing a lot of stairs later on,” Cid said, pushing the up button.
The doors opened. The ghost of a man looked at Mia and Cid in surprise. He moved to the side of the car unaware that Mia could see him. He fussed with the white spats on his shoes, trying to rub out a rust-colored stain as they ascended. Mia noticed more of these stains on the legs of his plaid pants. Mia kept a silent watch on the character who was more concerned about his clothing than the other cargo in the elevator. When she and Cid got off on the third floor, he stayed on. She heard the faint ping of the up button being pushed.
“So, what’s going on in the attic?” she asked out loud.
“Pardon? I thought we were going to do the third floor?” Cid asked.
“Sorry, just thinking,” she explained.
“Let’s wander around awhile until we hear something,” Cid suggested.
Mia nodded. She didn’t know why she didn’t tell Cid about the ghost on the elevator. She reasoned that she wanted to wait until she had a bigger picture of what was going on before letting the team know that the Rosemount Hotel was indeed haunted.
Chapter Two
Deputy Tom Braverman sat at his desk and sighed. He had just finished a mountain of paperwork. He gazed lovingly at the cleared blotter on his desktop. “Haven’t seen you for some time,” he said, running his hand along the thick paper.
“Braverman, you talking to yourself again?” Sherriff John Ryan asked behind him.
“Yes, sir. Bad habit,” Tom said, trying to get his breathing back to normal after Ryan had scared the crap out of him.
“You caught up on the DUIs?”
“Yes, sir, those and the property damage assessments.”
“Lord Almighty, I never seen one town’s youth so obsessed with tossing toilet paper rolls all over the damn place. Hell, it ain’t even football season yet.”
“In my day, we stayed indoors at night and played D&D.”
“Son, if you want kudos for that malarkey, you’re looking in the wrong direction. Here,” the sheriff said handing him a folder. “See if you can get a signature on this.”
Tom took the folder, opened it and looked at the contents. “I thought she lived next to you?”
“She does, but she’s on a hunt somewhere. Track her down.”
Tom looked at the paper which, once signed, would acknowledge that Mia Cooper was aware that the state of Illinois was lifting the restraining order on Amber Day. “I thought Mia decided not to press charges?” Tom asked.
“She did on the condition that Amber stay out of the state of Illinois. Well, it seems we overstepped ourselves there. The attorney general received a request that this be lifted. Since Amber attacked Mia in an altered state of mind, and we lifted the charges, he decided to cancel/clear the whole thing. But we do have to notify Mia that Miss Day is allowed full access to our great state.”
“It was done for Amber’s protection, if memory serves me,” Tom argued.
“Amber doesn’t want the protection. She wants to be able to join a review of some kind in Joliet. Now put on your deerstalker and locate Mia and get her signature, pronto.”
“Yes, sir,” Tom said, pulling out his cell phone and thumbing through his contacts. There she was nestled between the Chinese takeout and Dennys. He pressed send, hoping she still was using this number.
Mia felt the vibration of her cell and dug in her pocket for it. She read the caller’s name and decided to take the call. “Hello, Tom.”
“Hey, Mia, whatcha doing?”
“Just finished some EVPs, you?”
“DUI paperwork, damn drunks.”
“We’re in agreement there.”
“Ah, where exactly are you EVPing?” he asked.
“Third floor of the Rosemont Hotel, why?”
“Is that the one near O’Hare?”
“That be the place, why?”
“I have some paperwork for you to sign.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, nothing like that, just a formality. I’m supposed to discuss with you the nature of the paper in person and get your signature on it.”
“Do you want to tell me what it’s about or would it give away the plot?”
“Promise not to hop a plane to Brazil?”
“No.”
“Okay, then it will have to wait until I get there. Can you take a break in, oh, an hour or so?”
Mia looked at her watch and answered, “I can’t promise I can give you much time. We’re in the middle of things here, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll let them know in the command post to expect you.”
“Thanks, Mia, I appreciate it,” he said and ended the call.
Mia stared at the phone a minute before pocketing it again.
“Care to share?” Cid asked.
“Deputy Tom is coming out to have me sign some papers, but he wouldn’t tell me what they were about.”
“A mystery. Probably some zoning problem or you got filmed rolling through that stop sign on Route 59.”
“Wrong county, and they’d just send me the ticket. Well, no use standing around guessing all night; he’ll be here in an hour, and we’ll find out then.” Mia handed Cid the micro recorder. “Time to talk to some ghosties.”
Cid took the recorder and headed down the hall.
Mia touched her ear com and said, “Ted, come in, over.”
“Ted, here, go ahead, over.”
“Tom Braverman is heading here to the Rosemont. Give me a jingle when he arrives, over.”
“Tom as in Deputy Tom?”
“That’s the man.”
“What did you do?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Have we done anything illegal in the county lately?”
“Define illegal.”
Ted’s response didn’t help the sinking feeling Mia was getting. “Anything that would land me in jail?”
“You, no, but Cid better watch his back, over.”
Cid whirled around and looked at Mia.
“Did you just put us on an open link?”
“Sorry, taking you off now.”
“Honestly. Anyway, let me know when Tom shows up.”
“Will do. Burt would like to have a strategy meeting as soon as the two of you finish up there, over.”
“K. We’ll take our time,” Mia said.
“You’re poking the bear, but that’s what I love about you, over and out.”
Mia smiled and walked down the hall towards Cid. “Burt wants a strategy meeting when we get back.”
“Strategy meeting means, he’s starting to lose confidence that this place is haunted,” Cid commented as they entered Suite 304, reported to be the most haunted of the rooms.
It was a beautiful suite of rooms. The elegant appointments oozed comfort and luxury. Cid’s hand traveled along the top of the expensive fluffy duvet as he explored the room.
Mia quickly spotted that fishing tackle had been tied around the lamp on the marble-topped end table. She silently pointed this out to Cid. He nodded and encouraged her to look in the closet where the clothes rod was rigged to fall off the minute someone pulled a hanger off of it. They moved through the rooms of the suite and noted all the clumsy attempts to produce the feeling of being in a paranormal situation. What she didn’t understand was, where was the human who would pull the strings,
topple the towels, tug at the bedspread? Where would he be hiding? No sooner did she think these thoughts when the spirit of a woman dressed to the nines in a flapper dress moved into the room and picked up the string around the lamp base.
Cid turned as he heard the lamp begin to move. He turned on the recorder and asked, “Is anyone there?”
The spirit rolled her eyes and said very distinctly. “Get out!”
Mia had to refrain from laughing when the spirit proceeded to say as if she were flesh and blood, “Go away and leave us alone.” This time she managed to add the cracking sound of a faulty transmission.
Mia knew that when they ran the tape, Ted would think that there was a voice being pumped in through a walkie-talkie or some other such device.
The spirit proceeded to topple the stack of towels and, for good measure, upset the clothes rod. The hangers hit the floor with a crash, causing Cid to jump.
“What the fuck?” Cid said recovering. He looked over at Mia who was failing at hiding her amusement.
She mouthed, later, before she nodded in the direction of the door. It appeared to be opening by itself and slammed shut.
Cid moved to the door and touched the doorknob, “It’s hot.”
“Careful,” she warned him. “It’s supposed to show up red in an infrared camera. I think it’s been a bit overdone.” Mia waited until the smiling spirit left the room through the ceiling before motioning Cid to come closer. She whispered, “All will be revealed. Take pictures of the hoaxes. We must let them think that we are outraged at the lame stunts that were pulled on us.”
“Okay, Lois, but I don’t need to act, I am pissed,” Cid hissed. He walked away and lamented loudly, “What kind of fools do these people think we are?”
“They think they’re dealing with amateurs!” Mia added for effect. She caught a movement from above her and continued with the charade until the eavesdropping spirit pulled back through the ceiling. “Come on, Cid, we have to lodge a complaint,” she said, stomping towards the door.
Cid followed Mia, amused. He knew that something was up but knew better than to voice it until they were back in the command center away from the listening ears that he sensed were still there.
