“Well, I wonder if the owner would sell it,” Michael said. “He’s had it for a long time.”
“Do you know how I might reach him?” Roy asked.
“No, I don’t, I’m sorry,” Michael replied. “I see the kids coming and going, and for the most part they stay to themselves. They’re renters, so there’s new ones every few months. Lots of bedrooms in that house. But I can’t think of the last time I saw the owner. Don’t know if I’d even recognize him.” Michael beamed at them.
“Well, it’s no matter at the moment,” Roy said. “I think we’re more admiring the architecture right now than anything else.”
“We can always ask the kids where they send their rent checks,” Steven offered.
Silence. Steven could tell Michael was uncomfortable.
“I guess I should come clean with both of you,” Michael offered. “I’m the landlord of the house.”
“Oh, really?” Roy said, feigning surprise. “Why didn’t you want to tell us that?”
“Well, forgive me for that,” Michael replied, “but I guess I wanted to know your intentions before letting on about it.”
“Oh I see,” Roy muttered, chuckling. “You must be an excellent negotiator. That, or you’re not interested in selling the house.”
“I can assure you,” Michael said, “the house isn’t for sale.”
“Even if we were to make you a substantial offer?” Steven volunteered, wanting to see how far this would go.
“No, it’s not for sale for any amount of money. It has a sentimental value that, well, can’t be priced,” Michael smiled.
Roy was right, Steven thought. This guy is playing us.
“Well,” interjected Roy, “in light of that, I suppose we should be going. It was good of you to humor us at least.”
“Oh, the pleasure was mine,” said Michael, turning to Roy. “Can I get you anything else before you go? I just made an early lunch, why don’t you join me?”
“Thank you for the offer,” Steven said, “but we have an appointment we must make.” They all moved towards the door.
“If you’re in the neighborhood again, please stop by and say hello. It was nice to see you both. Stay healthy, Mr. Hall,” he said to Roy.
“Thank you, and thanks for your hospitality.” Roy turned and he and Steven left the house, returning to their car parked down the street. Once they were out of earshot, Roy began to snicker. “What kind of landlord doesn’t call the cops when he sees them break into his property?”
“The kind,” Steven answered, “that doesn’t want cops around.”
“Do you believe anything he said?” Roy asked.
“Not a word,” Steven replied. “I don’t know if he’s the landlord or not. He sure seems fixated on you, though. And I don’t believe we ever told him our last name.”
“I think he’s protecting something,” Roy said.
“Protecting what?” Steven asked. “The bones in the basement? We don’t even know if there are bones in the basement.”
“Maybe,” said Roy. “Like I told you, he’s lying, hiding things.”
They got in the car. Steven started it up, and drove them out of the neighborhood, back to Roy’s place.
“When he said the house had sentimental value to him, he’s referring to Lukas,” Roy said.
“He told us the previous owner disappeared,” Steven said.
“To the rest of us, Lukas disappeared. But Michael knows exactly what happened to him; he died, in that house.”
“OK, so he died,” Steven said. “Then this guy buys the property, end of story. This might be a dead end.”
“But Lukas didn’t die. Not completely, as we know,” Roy said. “I think Michael knows that. I think he knows Lukas lives, in some way, and Michael is keeping watch on that house for a reason. I think he expects him back.”
“Fifteen years is a long time to wait,” said Steven.
“Not if you’re expecting eternity out of it,” Roy answered.
Chapter Fourteen
The rain came off and on that afternoon, with few sunbreaks. It was pouring by the time Steven reached Roy’s house, and he grabbed an umbrella from the back seat, handing it to Roy as he prepared to step out of the car.
“I don’t need that,” Roy said. “I’ve been getting my head wet here for seventy years.”
“Fine, I’ll use it myself,” Steven said, and popped it open outside of the car, trying to shield himself from as much rain as possible. Roy scampered to the front door and unlocked it, and Steven followed him inside, shaking the water off the umbrella before entering. Roy put on a pot of coffee.
“I don’t feel like we’re making much progress,” Steven said.
“Oh, I think we found out quite a bit,” Roy said. “And I’ve got a theory forming. Ben was right, Lukas wasn’t human. We saw that in the flow. And, therefore, I don’t think the shadow of Lukas is a ghost. I think it’s something else entirely.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because it doesn’t behave like a ghost. It drained Ben, and it’s draining me. That’s more parasitic, like a mental vampire. And it’s far too powerful. What the shadow did to you and me put Ben’s ghosts to shame. Ben could make things appear, but Lukas could physically move you, hold you down, harm you. Ben was human, and his ghost lingers for a reason – to warn us about Lukas, about Ben’s unfinished business. Lukas was undergoing some kind of metamorphosis; that takes energy. The shadow is a projection of himself, at the only level he is able to function at right now, in his current state. It’s not a ghost.”
“So wherever he’s buried right now,” Steven asked, “he’s…functional.”
“To some degree.”
“Then why attack you? What is Lukas after?”
“I think what he takes from me,” Roy said, “he’s using to continue his metamorphosis, or to stay alive in the grave long enough to find a way to continue.”
“And we’re helping him. We keep offering you up, and he’s using what he takes from you to try and return. No more séances, no more trances.”
“Too late,” Roy said, “we’ve engaged, the connection has been made. He knows me now, he views me as food. He’ll keep coming after me until he wipes me out, just like Ben. My fate was sealed the moment I walked into your house.”
“We know how to keep him at bay. We just have to sleep in shifts.”
“For the rest of my life?” said Roy. “I don’t think so.”
There was silence. A wave of guilt washed over him. Had he not involved his father three days ago, his father wouldn’t be in this position. Of course, he hadn’t known the consequences at the time, or he wouldn’t have. And his father had practically insisted. But he had invited him over to witness the occurrences. That was when the connection was made. Steven could still see the shadow and its eyes staring at Roy, sleeping in bed, floating an inch off the mattress, being slowly drained to feed the corpse of Lukas Johansen.
“Dad, I’m sorry,” he said. “If I hadn’t asked you to come over…”
“Nah,” Roy said, “you’re viewing this the wrong way, you always do. You didn’t push me into the river, I jumped in. It’s always my choice to jump, never anyone else’s.” Roy poured himself more coffee. “We just have to find this sonofabitch and finish the job.”
-
Steven spent the afternoon doing more research, leaving his father at home with a promise that he would rest but not sleep. They would do shift-sleeping again that night. Until then, he wanted to follow up on a couple of ideas.
His first stop was at the construction office of a buddy of his named Ned Tate. Ned was a small subcontractor who worked on house construction. Ned and Steven had known each other since college. At one time Steven thought Ned might have had a thing for Sheryl, and in retrospect he wouldn’t put it past her to throw herself at him. Still, Ned had always remained a good family friend. He had last seen him at Ned’s daughters’ college graduation. Steven found him onsite in a
new housing subdivision in Maple Valley, a forty-five minute drive outside of Seattle.
Steven sat down at Ned’s dirty desk in the construction trailer. There were receipts and canary colored work orders all over it, a couple coffee mugs with yesterday’s (or older) coffee, and an engraved plaque that read “No Whining.”
“I’m hoping you can tell me how I might figure out what’s under a slab of concrete,” Steven said.
“That’s easy,” said Ned. “Jackhammer.”
“Eh, I can’t really go that route. I can’t tear it up, not yet. I need to find out if there’s something under it before I tear it up.”
Ned’s eyebrows rose. “Well, you could use a GPR.”
“What’s that?” Steven asked.
“It’s like an x-ray machine, for underground,” Ned answered. “We use them to check for pipes and conduits before we dig. What are you looking for?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain,” said Steven. “Here, take a look at this, would you?” Steven handed his cell phone to Ned, displaying a picture of the cement floor inside the Victorian house. “What if I wanted to x-ray under that? Would it work? Would it show me if something was under there?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not. You’re not going to tell me why?”
“Not yet Ned, I really can’t. Trust me. But can you tell me, would it detect…” Steven paused. He didn’t know if he should go any further.
“Detect what?” Ned asked, his interest clearly piqued.
No, too risky, Steven thought. He couldn’t say “bones” without the conversation wheeling off in the wrong direction. “…a gas line? Would it detect a gas line?” he stammered.
“Yeah, sure. That’s one of the reasons we use it,” Ned said, still examining the photo. “But if you dig here you’ll want to be careful of the sump pump.”
“A sump pump?” Steven asked.
“Yeah,” Ned replied. “This looks like a French drain to me. Very common in old homes in Seattle. When it rains and the ground gets soaked, most old basements built before fifty years ago will flood. To solve that, you put in a French drain with a sump pump, keeps the basement dry. That’s what it looks like to me, done maybe ten, fifteen years ago. I wouldn’t dig it up to find that out if it’s working fine. And you sure as hell don’t need to pay to rent a GPR. I can loan you ours if it comes to that.”
Steven let this roll around in his head, and he liked it. He found a straightforward plausible answer refreshing, even if it wasn’t the one he’d expected. “Thanks Ned,” he said, grabbing his cell phone back. “I appreciate the advice. I might take you up on the GPR down the road. Let’s get together for a beer soon,” he said, as he backed toward the trailer door.
“Sure, no problem buddy,” Ned said, watching him go. A worker approached him with a question and Ned’s attention turned back to his work.
-
Steven picked up Roy and he drove them both to Steven’s house. On the way he explained what Ned had told him.
“Lukas’ house is a bust. You felt nothing standing over the patch, and Ned says it’s a sump pump. If Ben killed him, he didn’t bury him there, especially with that nosy freak next door. If he buried him at all. This is all just a wild theory.”
“Oh, he buried him,” Roy said. “I’ll bet every penny I have on it.”
“You’re sure of that?” Steven asked.
“Absolutely,” Roy replied.
“OK,” Steven continued, “then where would he bury him? Some place where he had enough privacy to do it. My place, Ben’s old house. He could take his time doing it.”
“The shadow did appear there first,” Roy said.
“Well, you tried to ‘feel’ whether there was anything under the patch in the basement at Lukas’s house when we snuck in. Are you sure that method works? Can you detect things that way?”
“I think so,” Roy said.
“Think?” Steven asked. “Or know?”
“Think,” Roy said. “Just think. Nothing is perfect, you know. I can’t guarantee it. I knew where Ben’s journal was hidden, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” said Steven. “That’s good enough for me. I figure we’ll walk you over every square inch at my place. Like a divining rod. See if anyplace triggers you. If Lukas is buried there it ought to set you off like a pinball machine.”
Chapter Fifteen
Steven and Roy performed a quick survey of the house, basement and back yard before beginning.
“Let’s do the basement first,” Steven suggested. “Now, if you go into the trance can I move you? Can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk,” Roy said. “Let’s give it a trial run and see.”
“So, what, you go into a trance, then I lead you around?”
“Yeah.”
“How will you know if you’ve detected something?” Steven asked.
“I’ll know,” Roy replied. “And I’ll tell you. Some things are harder to detect than others, but Lukas isn’t subtle. The problem will be the walking. My vision won’t be focused on things on the floor.”
“Why don’t you put your arm on the back of my shoulder, like this,” Steven said, demonstrating, “and then I can lead you around by walking, and you just follow me.”
“Fine by me,” Roy replied. “When do we start?”
“Let’s try it now,” Steven said, leading him to the downstairs family room. It had the most recent remodeling of any room in the house, and Steven thought it the most likely suspect.
They paced over all of the room, Steven leading Roy slowly, going back and forth across the room in two foot increments. Steven resisted the urge to ask his father if he was feeling anything. He couldn’t see Roy’s face, so he didn’t know if some areas of the room brought about some reaction more than others. When they finally reached the end of the room, he turned to face Roy.
“Anything?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“I said no.”
“Not even a slight bump?”
“What’s a slight bump?” Roy asked.
“You know, something that made your meter jump a little?”
“Meter? I don’t know what you think I’m doing, but there’s no meter involved.”
“I didn’t mean it literally. Something that…impressed you…more than normal?”
“And I told you, no.”
The pattern again. Time to back off.
“Shit. I thought this room might be it.”
“Well, let’s try another room,” Roy said.
They moved to one of the bedrooms and repeated the procedure, with the same result. Then they tried the bathroom, the hallways, and laundry room.
“Nothing,” Roy said.
“The backyard is private,” Steven said. “We can scan it this way without people seeing us. Let’s go.”
For the next hour they slowly paced over every square inch of the yard, Steven careful not to interrupt his father and mindful of uneven surfaces. Towards the end he could tell Roy was tiring, his breathing was increasing and his pace slowing.
They finished the last pass against the back fence, and Steven turned to Roy. “Anything?”
Roy just shook his head. “I could use a beer,” he said.
Steven followed him into the house, retrieved the beers, and they drank together in the kitchen.
“So?” Steven said.
“So,” Roy replied, “he’s not buried here.”
“You’re sure?”
“Not one hundred percent, but yes, I’m sure.”
“Because,” Steven said, “if he was, you’d have felt something, right?”
“Yes, goddamnit!” Roy snapped. He was obviously tired and Steven’s questions were irritating him.
“Maybe you were tired out there, maybe your tuner wasn’t…fully powered. Maybe we should try again when you’ve got more energy.”
“It won’t make any difference, he’s not out there,” Roy replied.
“Fine,” Steven sai
d. “So, if not here, where?”
“I don’t know where. But I can tell you, it’s not here, and it’s not at the Lukas house. We’re wasting our time at either place.”
Steven was scraping the barrel for answers. “We could go back to Michael. Confront him with our theory.”
Roy considered this. “Maybe.”
“He’s involved, we know that,” Steven said. “You said he knows more than he told us. He’s hiding something. If we tell him we’re on to him, it might rattle him, we might shake some information from him.”
“Doesn’t feel right,” Roy said.
“Feel right?” Steven asked. “What does that mean? He knows more about this than we do, more than he’s let on. And we need to find out what he knows. Seems simple.”
“It means,” said Roy, “that it feels wrong. Something’s wrong with that approach. I can’t tell you why. It just doesn’t feel correct.”
“Well,” said Roy, “unless you have a better idea, that’s my next stop.”
“Wait,” Roy said. “I’ll go with you. But we need to stop at my place first.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s something I need to get, first.”
“What?”
“Jesus Christ with the third degree!”
“No secrets, Dad. I want to know what you’re planning. I don’t want you going off on some agenda that I don’t know about. If we’re going to confront this guy, I want us both to be on the same page.”
“Agreed,” said Roy. “I want to pick up something that will give us some protection.”
“What, like a talisman or something?”
“Kind of like that, yes.”
“You think we need protection from this guy?” Steven asked.
“Yes,” Roy replied, “I do. I told you it seems wrong. Anything that might tilt things to our advantage, yes, we should consider.”
“You think he’s dangerous? You think when we tell him what we suspect he’ll come unglued?”
“Yes, I think there’s a good chance of that.”
1 The Bank of the River Page 9
