Creep: Karma Inc. Case 4

by Gillian Zane

  “Uh, yes, yes I am,” he stumbled over his words again.

  “Drake Greco,” Drake introduced himself.

  “James Clintock, Reacquisitions, you’re the new head of Karma, Incorporated, sector 23 branch,” James said. “That makes sense.” He gave a nervous little chuckle as Drake moved to the side and let the man inside.

  “Cassandra Mercier.” I walked over to them and shook the man’s hand. “What’s Reacquisitions?”

  “Yes, yes, nice to meet you, Cassandra. I’m actually glad I caught both of you since it involves your current case. Reacquisitions. We're a small division, quite small, you’ve probably never heard of us. We’re in charge of bringing lost souls to Afterlife. A taxing job, but I love my job. Takes a bit of work, and some investigating.”

  “Oh, that sounds interesting,” I said honestly.

  “It is, a lot of work though, quite a bit,” he reiterated. He had a briefcase and he placed it on the table.

  “There’s a lot of lost souls?” I asked.

  “Yes, you would be astounded on how many slip through the cracks. Either they refuse to go with their transition handlers, or mistakes are made during the death. There was a period of time about a century back when the Transition divisions went on strike, and well, almost an entire generation became lost.”

  “That’s horrid,” I said in shock.

  “There’s worse ways to spend your undead life,” James said in a clipped tone.

  “You’re here about the Johnson kids?”

  “Yes, usually it would have been noted that an operative came into contact with some of the lost and we would have gotten to it eventually, but it seems someone up top took an interest and pulled me off my five hundred plus case load, insisted this one has priority.”

  “Your case load is five hundred deep?” Drake asked incredulously.

  “That’s low actually,” James sighed. “There are only about ten Reacquisition agents, and millions of lost souls. I definitely have job security.”

  “Why so few agents?” Drake asked.

  “Our bottom line is always in the red. We expend energy and collect none. There is little reason to support our group, but for the few souls we bring into Afterlife over the years.”

  “Unbelievable,” I exclaimed. Even in death it was always about the bottom line.

  “Typical,” Drake said under his breath. “What do you mean someone up top took interest?”

  “Our division head, well, he’s more like a figurehead since he’s the big man himself, put me onto the case.” James’ face went from annoyed to pleased in a split second.

  “Big man?” I asked.

  “Hades, of course.” He popped open his briefcase and pulled out an old-fashioned looking case file.

  “Hades, the Hades, sent you here?” Drake asked.

  “Yes, well, he sent a memo, which sent me. Why are you surprised, I’ve heard you’re the son of Persephone?” James looked perplexed.

  “He’s got a point,” I shrugged and Drake glared at me. “But, how does this involve us, besides the obvious case involvement?”

  “The oldest boy, the one that killed the other two,” James said.

  “So he did kill them?” I interrupted.

  “Yes, he killed the parents too, but they, fortunately, didn’t linger. The two children searched for their parents long enough to let Charles ground them to the home. He’s the issue. He needs to be cuffed and put on lock down while the other two are transitioned, then Charles can be dealt with.”

  “Dealt with?” I asked with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  “Souls like his do not get transitioned into Afterlife,” James said succinctly, answering my question from earlier. “They are too much of a liability.”

  “How would we cuff him?” Drake asked.

  “Simple.” James popped open his briefcase and brought out two metal bands. “Place one on your wrist, and then get the other one around him. It’s like those kid’s bracelets that slap on, but can only be removed by the one wearing the main cuff. Cuff him and I’ll come and retrieve him.” He placed the cuffs, that were little more than metal bracelets, in front of Drake.

  “When do we do this?” I asked.

  “The sooner, the better. There is top priority on this, and I’ve been instructed to not take another case until this one is finished,” James said.

  “Tomorrow,” Drake and I said together and I looked at him, our conversation from earlier seeming so far removed now.

  “Perfect, I’ll meet you at the Saint James House. My cover story is I’m a reporter on the case that’s been given special access to the filming. My operators have already established it.” He closed his briefcase and stood. Then with a nod, he turned and walked out.

  “You should probably get back to Afterlife. If I have to wrap up the case tomorrow, I’ll need to focus,” I told Drake, again taking the coward’s way out.

  “This isn’t over, Cassie.”

  “Yes, it is, Drake. I can’t think about that, and the Johnson kids, and my case, and your mother…I just can’t.” I threw up my hands and backed away from him.

  “You can, you’re choosing not to,” he said quietly.

  “You need to go back to Karma, Drake.”

  “This time, but you’re not getting off that easy. As soon as this case is over.” He stepped closer to me and I thought he was going to try and kiss me. I sucked in a breath, not knowing exactly what I wanted him to do. Did I want him to kiss me?

  He smirked as he saw something on my face, then he stepped away.

  “Your face never lies, even when your lips do.”

  My first thought, as the door closed behind him, was that I fucked up by sending him away.

  17

  Séance of Doom

  “Do you think your house is haunted, Mrs. Black?” It was my turn to interview the owner of the house. Roselle and Raul had first crack at her, so now she looked a little frazzled. There were also evident bags under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress. This was a woman going through something epic.

  “I feel like I’m on repeat,” she sighed.

  “This is the first time I’m hearing your story, Mrs. Black. We’re trying to help you. The more information, the better.”

  “I know,” she sighed again and messed with her hair, glancing nervously at the camera pointed in our direction. “You have great skin. I wish I had skin like you, but I’m probably like ten years older than you, so impossible.” More like thirty. Her bio said she was about to turn fifty, but I wasn’t going to bring that up. Mrs. Helena Black had started her family late. She had two teenage daughters and one son who was about to turn thirteen. Her husband was non-existent in the flesh, but financially provided for the family. He was usually working in London three out of four weeks of every month. Helena refused to move the family to England when he got his last promotion. This had left her a mostly single mother, except for the financial stability, which wasn’t anything to scoff at.

  Because she didn’t have a husband around all the time, she had decided to busy herself with a new condo located in a house that had always fascinated her as a child. It was the biggest mansion in the county so she would have never been able to attain living there if the developers wouldn’t have split it up and sold it off in pieces. She had always scoffed at the stories of it being haunted. She didn’t scoff at the stories anymore.

  “Charcoal mask, for the skin,” I made up to ease her discomfort.

  “Oh, okay.” She laughed and plucked at a stray piece of lint on her pants.

  “About those ghosts,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. The woman looked stressed, seriously stressed.

  “They aren’t ghosts, it’s a demon,” she said with a solemn nod.

  “Why do you think it’s a demon, Mrs. Black?”

  “Call me Helena, please.” I nodded. “It just feels—I don’t know, evil, angry. The things it does, it isn’t a normal ghost.” The last was said in a low hissed tone. She looked
around nervously again.

  “Can you give me some examples of what it does, Helena?” I asked, taking the time to read her aura. She was relatively neutral. She wasn’t overly good, but she didn’t do anything horribly wrong. She was contemplating starting an affair with the treasurer of the non-profit board she was on, but she knew if she was caught her husband would use it as an excuse to cut her off and take the kids to the UK. That’s about as dark as it got for Helena. She was a bit selfish, judgmental, materialistic, vain, but she did try and do the right thing most of the time. She was also petrified. Scared for her children, scared for herself, and scared for her future in the condo. She had sunk a lot of money into its purchase.

  “The water.” She bit down hard on her lip and looked over her shoulder like there might be someone there. “It won’t get hot. I got the water heaters checked. There is nothing wrong with them.”

  Emmett decided at that moment to make an appearance. He was laughing and pointing at Helena. “You get yourself in that water bin—turns that water right cold. They take — bath and dang — cold!” His words were faded and hard to hear, but I got the gist of them.

  I shot him a look and he got quiet. Helena looked from me to where Emmett was carrying on and her eyes widened.

  “Is it here?” she whispered.

  “Nothing that can hurt you, Helena. There is no demon here. What else have you noticed?” I tried to keep her going.

  “Scratches at night, on my teenage girls. They wake screaming, and their legs are bleeding. They say they couldn’t move, like something was on top of them.” She handed me pictures and I shuffled through them. There were horrible scratch marks on two pale legs, in one, blood dripped where the scratches went deep.

  Emmett was shaking his head, his eyes wide. “Not me,” I read his lips, the sound not loud enough to hear.

  “Charles does it.” Mary appeared in the room next to her brother, her eyes sad, her voice easy to be heard.

  “He touches them?” I asked Mary, but Helena answered, not knowing who I was talking to.

  “He? It’s a him? Oh my God, is it more than just scratches?”

  “He tries, and his temper takes over,” Mary said quietly. “That’s how the scratches happen.”

  Helena had gone pale as a ghost, to use a bad comparison. She was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief to ward away the tears that threatened.

  “I don’t think it is anything more than the scratches,” I said to Helena. “What else has happened?”

  “We came home to find the entire living room’s furniture upside down, everything off the shelves. The crosses broken. That’s why I think it’s a demon. The crosses.” She handed a basket over to me that had been next to her chair. There were at least four crosses in the basket and all of them were in pieces.

  “He don’t like Jesus,” Emmett said and did the sign of the cross. “Charles never did like the Church much. Mamma and Pops forced him to go.” Emmett’s voice was stronger now, louder, as he found more energy to siphon. I noticed he had Mary’s hand in his own. In that stance, I could see the sibling resemblance between the two.

  “I don’t know what to do any more,” Helena’s voice cracked and I stood as I saw tears begin to leak from her eyes. I went to her side and knelt down.

  “This isn’t demons, Helena. I can tell you this. It’s not something evil,” I said in a low voice, but the cameras were on me, the mics hovering on long sticks just above us.

  “What is it, then?” She continued to dab at her eyes so her mascara wouldn’t run.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s only a very angry ghost.” I wanted to sound like this was a good thing, but she didn’t look reassured.

  “So, that’s your official diagnosis, medium?” Roselle said medium like it was a curse word. She entered the room like a bull, her brother following behind her. “Because, from what I see here, this is a demon. I see all the signs.”

  I heard Helena gasp, her eyes round as saucers as she looked from me to the twins.

  “The signs for a demon are very similar to that of an angry ghost, and this one is a former human. His name was Charles Johnson.”

  “Charles ain’t gonna like this,” Emmett said. He had begun to pace the room. I saw Mary try to restrain his movement, her face strained.

  “We looked into the former ownership of this home, there were no Johnsons listed.” Raul produced paperwork from a carrying case draped over his shoulder.

  “Who’s listed as owning the property in 1857?” I asked. Raul shuffled through his papers and shook his head.

  “No records,” he said.

  “Their names were Sarah and George Johnson. They had three children- Mary, Charles and Emmett. Charles is the one who is causing all the problems.”

  “Can we cut?” Roselle said icily to Teddy. The cameraman didn’t react. “Cut. The. Filming,” she ordered.

  “No can do, I was told to keep rolling no matter what,” he responded. Roselle looked like she was about to have a fit, but Raul put his hand on her arm and she quieted down, but continued to glare at me and Teddy.

  “So, it could be just a ghost? These Johnsons?” Helena’s voice sounded hopeful.

  “All the signs point to a demon,” Raul said vehemently.

  “But she’s the medium, right? She sees these types of things.” I smiled and nodded at Helena.

  “Sometimes things can get confused, even for mediums.” Roselle’s smile was strained as she again conveyed her distaste for my supposed profession. Since I wasn’t pro-demon, I must have struck a chord.

  “Maybe we should take this conversation out of the house,” I suggested and the twins rolled their eyes in unison. Both cameras were pointed at them and no matter how much they looked down or away, the cameras never strayed. I don’t think they expected this kind of intrusion.

  “I don’t understand,” Helena said. “Either way, demon or ghost, you can do something about this, right?” She looked from the twins to me.

  “Of course,” I reassured her and I saw Roselle’s mouth drop open in shock. She pointed to the front door, obviously wanting to discuss something outside like I suggested.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” I put a hand on Helena’s arm reassuringly.

  “I’m calling Jerry, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fucking camera out of my face,” Roselle said and held up her phone as a shield.

  Teddy gave in and pointed the camera at me and then panned to Raul who was staring after his sister. She was already on the phone and talking animatedly.

  “Are you feeling anything?” Teddy had the camera pointed in my direction again, still trying to get more footage. He, out of all the people involved in this project, was the only one who actually seemed to get it.

  “I’m feeling that these spirits have something to say. I think it’s time we had a séance.”

  18

  Exit Stage Left

  The twins fought me on the séance. They didn’t want to give me any type of spotlight, even though it was obvious the cameras were wearing on Roselle. Teddy had followed me outside, along with his counterpart Gregor. Their cameras were pointed in the direction of the twins. They finally gave in when Jerry didn’t back down, and we decided to reconvene with a full crew in a few hours.

  The network sent a dozen people for the staged séance, sound techs, assistants that sat behind monitors and said things like “we need more lighting” and “pan to the left,” more hair and make-up people, another cameraman, and assistants that ran around making sure everyone was in their right spots and had exactly what they needed.

  James showed up with Drake in tow about ten minutes before we were about to start. Drake was incorporeal again and had only given me a terse greeting that I couldn’t respond to. I didn’t know how to interpret his looks, so I gave up and concentrated on the task at hand. It was my time to shine. Get this shit done.

  Jerry stayed on the phone with Roselle until the very end. I don’t know what t
hey talked about, but she was trying to kill the séance up until the last minute. Finally, she hung-up and accepted that this was going to happen.

  “Let’s get this party started,” she faked excitement as the helper bees hovered around us, prepping the cameras, the room, the lighting, and even the guests that would be sitting in. It was going to be a show.

  Helena pulled up a chair next to me at the large dining room table that was to be the center of attention. The assistants who had been buzzing around for the last two hours had set the scene to stereotypical perfection. There was a black table cloth thrown over the table and candles set up around the room. The place was eerie and gothic, which was exactly what they were going for. I would be the center of attention on this particular shoot, or so the production people had told me over and over again. Little did they know this was going to be the twins’ big night.

  Seated around the table was a wide variety of people. James had joined us, excitement evident on his face. He had whispered to me in passing that this was his first experience with the Karma division and he couldn’t wait to tell his counterparts. They would be jealous. Seated next to me was Helena, joined by her seventeen year old daughter, a pretty brunette who could eat a few more cookies, she was all legs and arms. Helena had introduced her as Cherish, but this was a fake name for the cameras, and also, I suspected to keep me on my toes.

  Next to the teen was one of the neighbors who was introduced as Montana, also a fake name. She was in her early thirties, and soft looking. She clutched the gold crucifix she wore around her neck nervously. Directly across from me sat Raul, and beside him, Roselle. They were joined by one of the assistant people, a man named Bruce who was there to give us a full table. Bruce looked nervous to be on camera and kept adjusting his collar.

  I sat down at the head of the table and closed my eyes dramatically. I heard Roselle let out an exasperated sigh as the cameras focused on me.

  “Please be seated,” I said regally, playing up the part. I opened my eyes and saw Drake take position behind Roselle. He placed both hands on her shoulders and she visibly shivered. Emmett was darting back and forth behind him, looking at all the people around the table.