When the Spirit Calls (When the Spirit... series - Book 2)

by Thomas DePrima

  "Darling, I've warned you not to tell people that you can see spirits because they'll try to lock you up."

  "I only allowed myself to be interviewed on television because I hoped it would give me some credibility."

  "Sweetheart, people are never going to believe you can see spirits simply because they can't see them, and if anyone else can see them, they'll never reveal it. So there's no one who can verify your claims."

  "I've managed to win over a few people, including a local priest."

  "If he tells anyone, they'll transfer him to the backwoods of Northern Montana faster than he can say 'Holy Spirit.' The Church wants us to believe spirits exist, but they will never acknowledge that anyone can actually see them. We must only take it on faith that they exist."

  "I know, Momma, I know. But the situation up here required that certain people know I can see spirits. That was the entire point of my coming here in the first place."

  "When are you coming home?"

  "I think my work up here will be completed in about two weeks."

  "What work are you doing? Every time I've asked, you simply tell me you're doing research, but you've never told me what research you're doing."

  "There's an enormous reference library on the occult up here, and I'm searching for references on people who have had contact with spirits."

  "I was talking with Megan's mother yesterday and she told me Megan is up there with you."

  "Yes, Megan's here, as are Renee and Erin. You know we're the four musketeers from New Bedford. One for all and all for one."

  Okay, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

  "I'm okay, Momma."

  "And you'll be home in two weeks."

  "I believe my work will be done here in two weeks. I'll be home as soon as I'm able."

  "Okay, darling. I love you."

  "And I love you, Momma. And Daddy and Jimmy."

  "I'll pass that along to your father, but I hardly ever see your brother because he never comes out of that videogame room you built for him— except to get food, snacks, or a cold drink."

  Arlene chuckled. "Well, tell him if you see him. Bye, Momma."

  "Good-bye, dear."

  "Your mother saw the interviews, eh?" Renee asked once Arlene had hung up the receiver.

  "Yeah. I suppose one of the major networks picked up the feed and broadcast it across the country."

  "Then I guess we're not just going to have every occult fanatic from Albany here," Erin said. "We're going to have every occult fanatic in the country here."

  "I'm glad our rental agreement is signed and in effect through the end of August," Megan said. "There's not going to be a spare room available for fifty miles."

  "And we might not be able to get a meal anywhere," Renee said. "It'll be impossible to even get in the door at Gianni's. It was bad enough with just the regular tourists, so as soon as I finish this book, I'm going grocery shopping. I'll load up the fridge with fresh vegetables and fruit, fill the freezer, and stock the cupboard with enough canned goods to last us a couple of weeks."

  "I'll go with you," Erin said. "I need a break anyway."

  * * *

  As Lt. Bolger climbed onto a barstool in the firehouse recreation room, Herb Riddell said from the next stool over, "I heard you guys arrested the party chairman."

  "Sheriff's orders."

  "And the charge is conspiracy to commit murder?"

  "That's what the arrest warrant said."

  "I guess Canaar can kiss his career good-bye."

  "He's sixty-eight. How many more years could he expect to work anyway? He'll be set for life with his pension."

  "As long as he was a good little sheriff and obeyed all orders from the top politicos, he probably could have stayed until they had to carry him out on a morgue stretcher."

  "Yeah. That's what I always assumed."

  "So are you going to wear the big hat?"

  "Hell, no," Bolger said as one of the volunteer firemen tasked as bartender for the day placed a large mug of cold pilsner in front of him. He took a long drink and sighed. "Ahhhh. I've been dreaming about that since I learned about the sheriff sending two deputies to arrest Ralph Godwell. Ya know, I had just gotten Canaar somewhat trained. Now I'll have to start all over with a new sheriff."

  "I think you'd make a great sheriff."

  "And I think you'd make a great coroner."

  "Me? Run for political office? No way."

  "My sentiments exactly. Besides, who knows, maybe the sheriff was right in arresting Godwell. It'll all depend on whether or not the D.A. makes the charge stick."

  "Who was Godwell's target?"

  "According to what I read, Godwell ordered the sheriff to kill Madam Arlene."

  "No!"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know yet. I only know what I read in the paperwork. The sheriff says he has a recording of Godwell ordering him to murder her."

  "A recording?"

  "Yeah. The sheriff records all incoming calls on his home line in case some disgruntled citizen calls to threaten him. I guess Godwell didn't know. Stupid of him to say something like that over the phone."

  "I read somewhere once that when people get too powerful, they begin to think that nothing and no one could ever take them down."

  "Yeah. There are a lot of people in high places that have god complexes."

  "The medical profession sometimes associates a god complex with NPD or Narcissistic Personality Disorder."

  "Yeah. Whatever."

  "What are the chances that Godwell will get put away?"

  "It depends on whether the judge allows the recording into evidence. If he, or she, declares it inadmissible, Godwell will probably walk free. Either way, I think his career in the political arena might be over. Using the power of your position to order someone to commit murder isn't something people forget."

  * * *

  "Wow," Erin said as she entered the reading room after returning from brewing a pot of tea in the second-floor kitchen. "That's some crowd upstairs."

  "Are they buying anything? Or just hanging around in the hope they'll see me?" Arlene asked.

  "A bit of both, I think. I didn't actually go out into the store. I was watching on the surveillance monitor in the kitchen. I suppose some may have come to see you and found something they like while they were waiting for you to make an appearance. The people milling about out in front of the building are probably only here to see a true spiritualist."

  "I guess I'll be sequestered down here for a while. I hope they leave after the store closes. I don't want to have to sleep down here tonight."

  "We can always tell them you aren't here when we leave, then come back to get you after giving them a chance to give up and go elsewhere."

  "Or we can call Richard and ask him to provide you with an escort through the crowds," Renee said. "But it's really your own fault for doing that interview. And why did you have to tell that reporter about the spirit in her van?"

  "Madam Elana asked me to do the interview in the hope it might help sales upstairs. I admit that mentioning the crew had a tagalong in their van might not have been such a good idea."

  "Up until that point you were viewed as just another nutcase," Erin said. "But then you became the real deal and everyone out front probably wants you to put them in touch with their dead parents, siblings, or some other relative so they can learn where some fictional family treasure is buried. And it would have been better if you hadn't said you don't charge people for your services. That would at least have kept the number down to a manageable crowd level."

  "Maybe one of you guys can go out and tell them I'm not here. Tell them I had to fly to Baden-Baden or something."

  "Not me," Megan said. "They might get angry and attack me or the store."

  "Yeah, and that would defeat the plan to help the store realize increased sales," Erin said.

  "You'll just have to tough it out," Renee said, "and remember never to do
that again. Erin, where's the tea?"

  "Oops, I forgot it. I was so preoccupied thinking about the crowd in the store and out front."

  "I'll get it," Megan said. "I want to see the crowds on the monitors anyway."

  * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  "I've found a reference to that exorcism in Naples," Megan said.

  "Where?" Arlene asked.

  "Um, in this book I'm reading."

  "Yes, Meg. How old is the book? When was it printed and where was it printed?"

  "It was printed in— just a second— 1743 in France."

  "And does it say anything different than what we already know?"

  "Well, there is one thing, but you're not going to like it."

  "Tell me anyway."

  "Wouldn't you rather read it yourself?"

  "I'm involved in this Greek book at the moment. Just tell me, hon."

  "But wouldn't you really rather read it yourself? Like maybe later?"

  "Is there a reason you don't want to tell me?"

  "Uh— yeah."

  "Bad news, huh?"

  "Uh, yeah."

  "Tell me anyway. I can take it."

  "Well, okay. It says here the elder who became newly possessed broke free of the elders on either side of him and attacked the chanting elder. As they struggled near the center of the circle, the bodies of both men began to glow. They got brighter and brighter until the light was so bright it was impossible to look directly at them. But suddenly, the light died out completely, casting the entire area into total darkness but for the dim light from the stars overhead."

  "Is that all? We already knew that."

  "No, uh, there's one thing more."

  "What is it?"

  "Well, when the other elders lit torches, they discovered that both of the elders who had fought were dead."

  "Both?"

  "Um, yes."

  "Does it say what they died from?"

  "No."

  "That doesn't mean much," Erin said. "Back then factual medical diagnosis was unknown. They didn't even have the slightest idea how the human body worked. They relied on village healers who dropped chicken bones to interpret signs from their gods, shook rattles at imagined demons, or sometimes used natural remedies that either didn't do anything positive or might have even killed the sick or injured."

  "At least one of the demons wasn't imagined," Arlene said.

  "I was referring to the imagined demons they believed were responsible for everything bad that happened to the tribe or village on a daily basis."

  "Isn't it interesting how mankind has always sought refuge with their gods when they didn't understand the problems that confronted them?" Renee said rhetorically.

  "Yes," Erin said. "As science and knowledge have advanced, there has been less dependence on gods to handle daily problems, except in third world nations where education is greatly limited and people live in squalor. Promises of a wonderful afterlife are all they have to live for."

  "Okay, it's an interesting topic but we have work to do, so break time is over." Arlene added a smile so she wouldn't seem so much like a taskmaster as she returned to her reading.

  "You're not concerned that we may lose our lives in this endeavor?" Renee asked.

  "Of course I'm concerned," Arlene said without looking up. "But we've already discussed that possibility and declared our positions. Kamet must be sent back to the Underworld, whatever the cost. We have no choice. Naturally, I hope it's not me or any of us, but there it is. If it's doable, Kamet is history."

  "If you attempt to return me, you will all die— horribly," Megan said.

  "Yeah, funny, Meg," Renee said, looking towards Megan. "Who are you supposed to be? Kamet?"

  "I think I shall kill this one first," Megan said, pointing to Renee.

  The comment caused Arlene to look up, feeling the presence of a spirit as she did and noticing the aura around Megan. "It's not Megan. A spirit has taken over her body. It must be Kamet."

  "What?" Erin said, looking up at Megan.

  "It's Kamet. I can see his aura. I can also feel him now that my attention isn't focused on the book." Turning towards Megan, she said, "Well, Kamet, I was wondering why you hadn't dropped in to visit us before now. Of course, there was that one time in the office when the spirit didn't identify itself. Was that you?"

  Kamet released a chilling laugh that would have made a voice-talent man jealous. "Your simplistic efforts will fail, and I shall kill every one of you."

  "Nice try, Kamet," Arlene said, "But we know you aren't capable of that. At best you might get one of us. But if you do, it will be the last mortal you kill before we send you home."

  "You will never send me back," Kamet said with obvious rage. "I will remain here as long as even one member of the coven lives."

  "We know your power is weakened when each member of the original coven dies. You learned that when you killed Simona. It must have come as quite a shock to lose so much strength so quickly. And lately you've learned something else. Certain mortals, like myself, can see and feel your presence."

  "You are no mere mortal, witch. If you were, I would have already slain you."

  "I'm the most powerful mortal you're ever likely to encounter. And I'll tell you something else, Kamet. I'm the one who's going to send you back to the Underworld. So pack up all your threats and prepare to take a one-way trip back to Hell."

  "You are no mere mortal, but the mortal body you occupy will die when next we meet."

  "You may be more powerful than any of us as individuals, but together we're far too powerful for you to handle. Simona was frightened and ran away. But none of us will run."

  The aura surrounding Megan suddenly disappeared.

  "He's gone," Arlene said. "Are you alright, Meg?"

  "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Kamet was just here. He used you to speak with us."

  "Seriously?"

  "Didn't you feel anything?" Erin asked.

  "No, nothing."

  "You're sure he's gone, Ar?" Renee asked.

  "I'm sure."

  "Why didn't he attack you just now?" Erin asked. "And why did you keep antagonizing him?"

  "I thought that taking over a body might sap his strength, as it does those from the immortal world, and I wanted him to remain here in Megan as long as possible to drain his ethereal energy. I felt that by taunting him, he'd hang around to rant and rave a bit. We want him as weak as possible for the eighteenth."

  "Yeah, but like Erin asked, why didn't he attack you?" Renee asked

  "I don't know. Of course, he would have been fighting four of us. But perhaps there's something else."

  "Like what?" Megan asked.

  "I wish I knew. But this would have been the best time to attack me. I wasn't paying attention when he arrived, so he would have had the element of surprise."

  "Why did he keep insisting you aren't a mere mortal?" Erin asked. "Do you think it has anything to do with the ethereal power you command or your close connection to the immortal world?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps he's never met a mortal with as many past lives as Gisela says I've had. Let's operate on that premise and see if we can find anything about that in these books while we still have time."

  * * *

  "Come in, Dick," Canaar said as Lt. Bolger knocked on the glass potion of the door to the sheriff's office.

  "You wanted to see me, Sheriff?"

  "Yes. Look at this," Canaar said, pointing to a monitor on the wall as he pressed a button on a remote control.

  A second later several images from the main cellblock of the jail could be seen.

  "That's the area where Macrone and Godwell are being housed," Canaar said. "On the left monitor you can see into their cells. They've been spending a lot of time talking with each other through the bars where the cells meet at the corridor."

  "You suspect they knew one another before being put into adjoining cells?"

  "It seems that way. I suspe
cted that might be the case when I had Godwell picked up."

  "What led you to suspect that?"

  "I did a little checking and discovered that Meredith Blakely, aka Virginia Winston, aka Virginia Reffer, was born in this county. More than that, she attended the same schools as Godwell, and they grew up just a few streets away from one another. Perhaps they were childhood friends. Anyway, when Winston returned to this county after the violent death of her husband, Keith Reffer, it was Godwell who helped her get a new ID under the name Blakely. I don't think I ever told you, but it was Godwell who was pressuring me to get Watson out of the county."

  "You think he hired Macrone to kill Blakely so his helping her would never be discovered?"

  "It seems more likely that Macrone made a mistake in identifying Watson and thought Blakely was our spiritualist. She was in Watson's house after all."

  "I saw that the judge refused Macrone's attorney's request to set bail pending the findings of a psychiatrist. What about Godwell?"

  "I expect bail will be set today, and he'll be out."

  "There's going to be hell to pay for his being arrested."

  "After he ordered me to murder Watson, I had to act. I couldn't kill her, and I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. I assume he turned to me when bail was refused for Macrone and he knew Macrone wasn't going to do her."

  "Why was he so anxious to get Madam Arlene out of the county?"

  "I'm guessing he was unnerved after Watson, er, Madam Arlene, identified the location of Simona's remains. When she didn't leave town right after the inquest, perhaps he felt that a spiritualist could start revealing other secrets, such as his lying under oath about Meredith's true name so she could get a new identity. I'm sure Godwell has a lot of other— excuse the expression— skeletons in his closet."

  "Why didn't you just refuse to do as he ordered and drop it?"

  "When I was trying to force Madam Arlene to leave town, she told me that Simona's spirit has spent quite a bit of time in my office recently. She told me I couldn't hide behind my office door and expect that I wasn't being observed or that I could enjoy a private conversation. Then she asked me if it was true that the party chairman in this county wanted her out of town and was pressuring me to make that happen. I tell you, Dick, I was pretty shaken by the specifics of that question. I'd never told anyone who was pressuring me, and I never thought anyone could have learned who it was. Uh, you never suggested that to Watson, did you?"