Things that Go Bump in the Night (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  “Peaches, you’re a sight for sore eyes! I was just telling the lady here that she didn’t know how to dress. Mia, get a load of Peaches, she knows how to show off her charms.”

  “I can see that. Who’s the guy in the spats?” she asked.

  Albert looked at the man and flashed a full-toothed smile. “It’s my boy, Junior.” McKinney’s eyes watered. “You mean to tell me that my best gal and my son waited here for me?” He put his hand on his heart. All this time I thought you were a gold digger, Peaches. And, Junior, I’m speechless.”

  “Albie, we’ve been trying to get these bozos to dig you up,” the flapper said in a pinched voice. “We knew you was here, but we couldn’t find you. I says to Junior, he’s here. I can feel it in my water. We were working out a way to blow this joint up when Junior found the trapdoor. Down the Rosemont man went, and after him this chick-a-doodle. Presto chango, they tear up the place to save the dude, and we save you.”

  “Do they know you all are dead?” Mia asked.

  Peaches rolled her eyes. “Of course. I saw the light, and I says, I can’t rightly go to my reward without my big lug here. Junior came by later looking for his dad, and we decided to team up.”

  “You know you didn’t need to go to this trouble. You could have asked. Written a note or something,” Mia suggested.

  “Now, Mia, don’t you get yourself all worked up. Peaches here, well to be kind, is a bit dramatic, and Junior, the gin killed his reasoning skills. I’m just happy as can be that they cared enough to show up, not to mention trying to spring me.”

  “Is there a special place you want us to bury your remains when we find them?”

  Abelard looked at Peaches.

  “I’m over at Mount Carmel. Junior’s at Resurrection next to your wife.”

  “Junior, if you don’t mind, your ma and I never got along. I’d like Mount Carmel.”

  “Why don’t you put him on top of me. After all, it’s his favorite spot,” Peaches said in a fit of giggles. “My name’s Ethel Marie Pitts.”

  “Whoa, no wonder you preferred Peaches,” Albert said.

  “K. Albert McKinney’s remains planted over Ethel Marie Pitts at the Mount Carmel Cemetery,” Mia confirmed. “Until then, will you lay off scaring the guests?” she said, looking at Peaches first then Junior.

  The two of them looked at her sheepishly and nodded.

  “Fine. Then I’ll leave you guys to your happy reunion. We’ll be sending down some guys to retrieve Albert as soon as it can be arranged.”

  “You have my thanks,” Albert said.

  Mia turned to the trio of men behind her. “Time to go. I think we have a game plan. Let’s leave them be for now; we have reached an accord.”

  Henley climbed the stairs as if he was escaping his own execution. Mike and Cid took note of the bottles of booze. Mike took a few pictures of some labels before climbing the stairs. Mia poked around the far corner a bit and decided that she’d recommend they call in Father Santos and see who he’d recommend for the extraction of Albert McKinney. She started up the stairs, satisfied that the mystery of who was pretending to haunt the hotel was solved. The aroma of a good cigar filled the small space. Mia looked back and saw Albert lighting up a Cuban. He winked at her and disappeared into the dark.

  Chapter Five

  Mia sat at the console minding the video feeds. Ted had gone with Burt to do some after interviews with Cliff and Henley. Mike was sitting next to her uploading the pictures of the dusty bottles of whisky and wine into the computer. His intention was to have Audrey do a valuation on the products. The value of that wine cellar might actually give Cliff Rosemont the monies he needed to save his hotel. Also, there was a finder’s fee mentioned. The percentage PEEPs received from the sale of the rare books they found in Mike’s mother’s childhood home had been a boon to the struggling group. They now had vehicles and a state of the art office they rented from Ted.

  “So you’re telling me, that moldering brew down there is worth a couple of large bills?” Mia asked Mike in disbelief.

  “Honey, if the bills have a lot of zeros behind the one, then yes.”

  “Don’t call me honey, Mike,” Mia requested.

  “Sorry, bad habit.”

  Mia looked aghast at the man. “No fight, no calling me sweet cheeks or…”

  “Tits Magee?” Mike filled in. “No, you’ve had a tough night. I thought I’d take it easy on you.”

  Mia shook her head. “You are a complex man, Mr. Dupree.”

  He smiled. “I like that description, complex.”

  Audrey climbed in the trailer and squeezed by Mia. “Mike, if you have the file on the bottles, I’ll take it with me. Burt’s sent me home. I’m on early shift tomorrow dealing with the forensic boys.”

  “Who’d he get?” Mike asked.

  “The Rosemont hotel is in Cook county so Dr. Nam got the call,” Audrey replied. “And since I’ve dealt with them recently with the parish house…”

  “Lucky you,” Mia said. “I like Dr. Nam, but his white-suited techs are a bit needy.”

  Audrey laughed. “They just want to talk to a pretty girl, Mia. These guys work with dead bodies; I doubt they get too much opportunity to flirt.”

  “If you call, ‘Miss, touch this bone and tell me if it’s so and so,’ flirting.”

  “It’s not a line I’d use,” Mike commented safely, fearing the backlash if he asked Mia what bone or boner she was talking about.

  “See, if he’s not used it, it doesn’t work,” Mia teased. “Mike’s used them all.”

  “It’s because I’m complex, Audrey.”

  “You’re something, Mike, alright. Please put the file on this flash drive, and I’m out of here.”

  Mike did as requested. Audrey left after hugging both of the investigators.

  “She’s always so positive and happy,” Mia said after Audrey drove off. “A breath of fresh air.”

  “Yep, wait until the job makes her old and jaded like we are.”

  “Yes, we crusty old investigators, barely fit enough to run from the screaming banshees,” Mia added.

  “Running is overrated,” Mike said, patting Mia on the back. “Speaking of running, why haven’t I received a save the date card yet for your wedding? Have you developed cold feet or has Theodore smartened up?”

  “Actually, it’s Ralph. He has his heart set on planning our wedding, and he’s not enamored with an autumn outdoor event. Ted’s family is a large one and will be traveling from Kansas to come to see him get married, so there are hotels to find. My little town, if you remember, has one B&B. And then there’s the weather. What if it rains?”

  “Why outdoors?”

  “Murphy. He won’t step foot in a place of worship or stand near anyone wearing a dog collar. We’re having a judge and not a priest or pastor marry us,” Mia informed him. “You can imagine how that went over with Father Santos.”

  “Are you sure Murphy even wants to come? I think the farmer’s got a crush on you. It can’t be easy seeing you wed to nerd boy.”

  “That thought crossed my mind. Ted and he talked about it - or Ted talked and Murphy scratched. Anyway, Murphy and I came to an understanding not long ago. It’s complex.”

  “Just like me, complex,” Mike said, wearing the tag like a badge of honor. His eyes lit up. “Have it at the Dupage Hunt and Golf club. I’ve been there with a date. It has a large deck overlooking the best part of the course, lots of trees, and if it rains, you can be married in front of the windows inside. Plus, there are several motels and hotels not too far away. Hire a shuttle bus for the drinkers…”

  Mia smacked the table top exclaiming, “You’re a genius! Watch this thing while I go outside and call Ralph.” Mia leaned over and kissed Mike on top of his head before she left the trailer.

  Mike slid over and watched the feeds saying proudly, “I’m complex and a genius!”

  Burt sat down in the lobby and watched his tech team retrieve the cameras, roll up the cables an
d collect the micro-recorders. Cid and Ted talked the entire time, mostly about nonsense, but sometimes Burt caught slices of intellectual conversations that belonged more in university lecture halls than in the stairwells and basements of the buildings they investigated.

  Cliff Rosemont approached him looking a bit tattered and bruised. Burt wanted him to go to the ER, but he refused. He didn’t want to leave his hotel without staff in place.

  “I’ve looked through grandpa’s papers, and I found that for a period of time the Rosemont was being managed by Keith and Kenneth Abelard. This has to be when the wine cellar was sealed up. Imagine, we’ve had Albert McKinney as a guest all these years and didn’t know it.”

  “I’d think twice before sending him a bill if I were you.” Burt smirked.

  “Yes, I think we’ll find him another bed. I hear he wants Mount Carmel.”

  “Interesting place. I think there may be a few of his contemporaries planted there. Maybe some he planted himself.”

  “Chicago has such a rich history, great place to grow up near.”

  “So you’ve spent your whole life here?”

  “No, there was a period of time when I lived with my mother in Boston. My parents divorced when I was in grade school,” he explained. “But I was never happier than I am when I’m here at the Rosemont behind that desk taking care of the tired traveler.”

  “You may want to relocate that desk until you get that trapdoor taken care of,” Burt suggested.

  “Oh, I’ve already thought of that. We’re going to have to get ahold of the Field Museum and see if they want to take possession of the armament under the floor.”

  “I’ve got a connection. Mia’s godfather runs the place, presently.”

  “I’d appreciate the introduction, Burt.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you for taking a chance with me. I know that we had a bad reputation with the paranormal teams. What made you take our case?”

  “My gut feeling. In our line of work you have to pay attention to your senses. We can’t all see ghosts like Miss Cooper, but we are all equipped, in some way, with a little extra that helps us in this line of work. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve been duped before, but we learn from the experience and move on.”

  Cliff got up and said, “Well, I wish you continued success.”

  “Thank you,” Burt said. “We’re just about finished here. Audrey will be back in the morning to supervise the removal of McKinney. Mike’s going to take advantage of a room and will help her in the morning. The rest of us are going to head back west and get some rest.”

  “I’ll take good care of Mr. Dupree. My wife’s heading over to take me to the hospital as soon my midnight shift arrives.”

  “Make sure you do that. The longer that arm stays like that, the worse it’s going to be to put it back.”

  “It seems you speak from experience.”

  “I’ve been tossed down hallways, stairs, across rooms... I’ve logged a lot of flight hours. Flying’s a breeze; it’s the landings that hurt.”

  Cliff nodded his head in commiseration. “When do you think you’ll air the investigation?”

  “We’ve got to go back and see what we have on film. Mike will follow up on getting the contents of your cellar valuated. We’ll use it as filler if we don’t have enough for the hour show, or combine it with another short investigation. I can’t promise, but you could see the Rosemont Hotel investigation in a month.”

  “I’d appreciate it. I’d like to get the news out that the Rosemont is no longer a joke or haunted or both,” Cliff said.

  Burt nodded and started to gather his things. He stopped and asked, “Since you’re in the hotel business, have you heard of the B&B in Wisconsin that…”

  “Disappears after guests stay in it?” Cliff completed.

  “Yes, I just heard about it recently.”

  “There have been whispers about it for a few years,” Cliff explained. “It’s never in the same spot so I imagine it’s hard for a ghost hunting team to track down. I’ve got a linen supplier that lives in the general area. I’ll give her a call and see if she’ll talk to you.”

  “I’d appreciate it, Cliff. No rush. I was just thinking that if we could track this thing down then we could do a haunted hotel theme but put the stress on that yours is no longer haunted and is ready to receive guests.”

  Cliff got up saying, “That sounds good to me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few things to do.”

  Burt nodded. He got up and smiled to himself. You never know where you’re going to pick up information. He walked outside and almost collided with Mia who was pacing as she talked animatedly on the phone.

  “Sorry, Burt, I’m talking to Ralph…”

  “No problem. If Bernard is still up, I’d like to talk to him if I could?”

  Mia nodded and handed her phone to Burt explaining, “Ralph’s getting him. We were just working out some wedding details.”

  Burt put the iPhone to his ear and heard the buttery deep voice of Dr. Bernard Wesley say, “Hello, Burt, what’s keeping you up on such a fine summer’s evening?”

  “Oh the usual, bumps in the night. In this case we had a gangster.”

  “Sounds thrilling. I hope the fella didn’t give you too much trouble.”

  “He, according to Mia, was a charmer. Anyway, I’ll make this short and not keep you up any longer. We found a stash of Tommy guns and other period armament installed in a device under the floor. The owner of the Rosemont Hotel would like the Field Museum to have first dibs on the arms, on the condition that you send out someone to safely extract them.”

  “We could certainly find a home for the artifacts. Tell me more about this device.”

  “I’ll hand the phone back to Mia. She’s seen it from the underside.” Burt handed the phone to Mia and hung around until she had given Bernard the particulars.

  “I think it’s being controlled from the reservation desk. The trap pops open, and the gansta drops to the floor and comes up with an unwelcomed surprise, see,” Mia fell into character. “Nobody’s going to come to this hotel without a reservation, see.”

  Burt tried to hide the smile forming. His lips twitched and a chuckle rumbled up, making it impossible to maintain his bossy persona. He listened as she explained the mechanics of it and handed the phone back to Burt.

  “I’ll put this on the calendar for tomorrow. I have a few folks to consult first, but I’m getting the feeling that Mr. Rosemont and the museum may have a colorful future event between us. Publicity for the hotel and of course the museum. Maybe a gansta night instead of a gala…” Bernard said thinking aloud. “Oh damn, Ralph’s heard me. I’m going to be up all night listening to the artistic vision that just came over him. Tell Mr. Rosemont we’ll be in touch.”

  Burt handed the phone back to Mia. “You’ve got some great guys looking out for you. You’re a lucky girl.”

  “I am aren’t I?” Mia said. “Thanks, Burt.”

  “Thank me? Why?” he asked puzzled.

  “You’re one of those guys. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be doing this, loving every moment.”

  “You’re welcome, but don’t thank me. We still have yards of cable that need rolling, and someone has to go down that spider hole and retrieve our gear. The boys have already called, not it.”

  A shake of her blonde locks preceded a mumble of words not meant for young ears. Mia walked back into the hotel and didn’t see the single tear that rolled down Burt’s face.

  Chapter Six

  “I said glide not stomp!” Marc screamed from the mezzanine. “Ladies, you’re not on the catwalk; you’re supposed to be walking like cats. I want you to glide. Don’t worry about shaking the titties, that’ll come later. Just try to imagine you’re Kim Novak in Bell Book and Candle… What are all these blank faces? You don’t know who Kim Novak is?” The angry choreographer turned around and shouted to the balcony control room, “Juan, what ignorant shallow pool did you pull these
fish from!”

  “Marc, these are young ladies, yes,” the thick Columbian-accented words floated down from the balcony. “They spent their time with the TV, yes, not the films. Give them a modern reference. Padma, perhaps,” suggested the owner of the newly renovated The Jewel theater.

  There was a collective sigh from the group of girls on the stage. They knew who Padma Lakshmi was.

  Marc clapped his hands. “Okay, one more time from the top. Glide like Padma, strong, sensual, no nonsense,” he instructed.

  Amber watched from the wings. She herself was having trouble grasping the whole new way of movement. In her case, it was trying to ditch the eyes forward, back straight walk of the Vegas show girl for the bump and grind of the burlesque performer. Juan had promised to make her a star.

  Juan Carlos the Second was using his considerable fortune to bring burlesque back. He was tired of the pole-dancing skinny girls and the diva singers who depended on auto-tuning microphones. He wanted curvy women, women with lungs, breasts, hips, and, yes, a little more meat on them than was fashionable. The men of his world wanted to fantasize about mounting a temptress not a stick with silicone tits. And they would pay to see them perform. Some would even bring their wives. He wanted to showcase more than the girls; he wanted comedians, dog acts, and the whole nine yards.

  Juan was a smart man. Before buying The Jewel, he studied film after film and read memoirs of the greats whose careers were launched from the burlesque stage.

  He was taking his family’s money - ill-gotten gains from a drug running Columbian cartel according to the IRS – and going legit with this burlesque review. Here they would work out the kinks before taking it on the road. He envisioned Chicago, New York, LA, and then taking it abroad. When he had conquered the world, he would bring it home to his theater and, hopefully, the tourists with it. He would make Joliet, if not the New Vegas, at least the Branson for the Viagra set. He had covertly purchased land where hotels would rise from the ashes of old machinery plants. He had a plan. It would start with the slow rebirth of an economically challenged city. This small city already supported two casinos. He would back a few well-placed people on the zoning commission, a few more in congress, and before he sprouted his first gray hair, he would own this town. The Juan Carlos the Second Empire would all be built on the twirl of a tassel.