by Alexie Aaron
Burt gripped the rusted, old grass trimmer and prepared to do battle.
“The rusted iron may be enough to buy us some time. If we can injure them enough so they have to recharge, we may stand a chance,” Mia said, moving in front of the investigator, taking the lead as they walked.
Burt saw that the bot had crawled back up Mia’s body and loomed over her head like a cobra.
“That hurt?” Burt asked as the mechanism clamped down on her head for support.
“It’s better than getting a perm with Ralph, but to answer you, yes, it hurts.”
“Want me to…”
The bot shot forward and connected with a spectral arm reaching for Mia. Electric sparks shot out.
“Nevermind,” Burt said. “It appears to be protecting you.”
“Ambulance is five minutes away,” Cid reported. “How are you guys doing? Should I double the order, over?”
Burt swung the scythe in the direction Mia was pointing. “Can’t talk right now.”
Mia whipped one of the iron spikes in the direction of the approaching entity. It reared back but didn’t dissipate.
“Not a good sign. What’s fueling these things?” Mia asked herself.
She felt hands on her shoulders, and she was lifted off the ground.
“It’s Angelo. Don’t struggle. Ask your cobra to calm down.”
“He’s a friend, Jake,” Mia said.
Angelo deposited her on top of the house. “Stay here!” he ordered before taking off to help Burt.
Mia straddled the roof. Curly crawled down from her head, taking some locks of her hair with him. He rolled into a ball and let the slope of the roof take him downward.
Angelo glided to the ground and stood beside Burt who was facing two enormous entities. Burt was swinging the scythe but lacked the muscle power to connect with the brutes. Realizing this, he tossed the weapon to Angelo.
Angelo caught the tool and swung it, connecting with one of the attackers. He bisected him at the waist. The entity tried to reform, but the iron was too much for it, and it disappeared. Angelo took a moment too long in celebration. Sensing something behind him, he turned too late and was picked up and tossed to the ground.
Burt felt hands on his ankles. He was pulled off his feet, his head hitting the ground. He saw stars but was still conscious. The vicelike grip increased around his ankles as the entity dragged him towards the excavation. He managed to grab hold of an iron tent spike and stab the ground with it. He felt the pull but held on to the spike with all of his might.
The entity, puzzled by the lack of momentum, bent over the man.
Curly landed on top of the entity and let out a full electric charge. It wasn’t enough to take the ghost out of play, but it did distract it so Burt could twist out of its grasp. He got to his feet and ran back to the pile of discarded iron weapons.
Angelo got to his feet and looked around him. He momentarily got distracted by the arriving ambulance and a fleeing Burt and didn’t sense the entity behind him until it was too late.
The surviving entity picked up a shovel by the wood handle, raised it over Angelo’s feathered back and brought it down with all of its power.
CRACK!
The blade of the shovel separated from the handle as it hit the blade of Murphy’s axe.
Angelo whirled around, picking up an iron spike as he did. He rushed forward, his wings propelling him at amazing speed. He buried the spike in the chest of the military man who immediately lost form.
“They’re still active. They may regenerate,” he shouted at Murphy. “Let’s find the source and take them out permanently.”
Murphy moved to the brick entrance and swung his axe.
Burt was on automatic. He mentally pulled every file of every past ghost fighting scene through his mind as he ran. He jumped in the trailer shouting, “I need the flares, fireworks if you have them, anything that burns…”
Cid handed him Plan B. Burt gave him a wicked smile and left with it.
“Be advised, Burt’s got the flamethrower. Angelo has arrived, and Ted has departed, over.”
Mike smiled, and even though he wanted in on what was coming, he knew he had to protect the Wheatons. He continued his patrol of the house’s interior. Audrey joined him. She smiled as she tossed him a squirt bottle full of holy water. “It’s fresh,” she said. “Father Santos just blessed it.”
“He’s alive?” Mike asked, confused that Father Alessandro had said nothing to him on the phone earlier.
“Walking and talking,” she reported. “Last I saw, he was arming himself and heading off towards the garage.”
Mia inched her way down the roof and over to the extension, mumbling as she went, “Sure, leave the pregnant woman on the roof, Angelo, you son of a bitch.” She crawled to the edge of the gutter, eased her body over it and dropped one story to the ground. She dusted off her knees and walked in the direction of the fight.
“Mia, we meet again,” Father Santos said. “Good, you’re wearing your crucifix.”
“Hate to tell you this, but it doesn’t work,” Mia said.
“Ah, but it does if you believe in it, my daughter,” Santos said. “We will talk another time about belief, perhaps with Father Alessandro in attendance.”
“Hey, no fair ganging up on the pregnant lady,” Mia said.
“Are you going to use your pregnancy as an excuse for everything?”
“You bet I am. Did you see my husband?”
“He’s beat up, but he’ll live. A responsible priest would tell you to back away from this fight and go and be with him, but I’m not that guy.”
“Ted wouldn’t want me to; he’s not that guy either,” Mia said, extracting several sets of salt stars from her shirt pocket.
“What are those?”
“Here.” She handed him a set. “Toss them at the ghosties. It hurts them. A trick of Tonya’s.”
“Ah, but so does this,” Santos said, pulling out from under his cloak a sizeable weapon that resembled a double-barreled, sawed-off tommy gun. “My brother Constantine made it for me. I was going to save it for your birthday, but you can have it now. Careful, it’s loaded.”
Mia took the weapon and quickly acquainted herself with it. She saw that it had two rounds in the chamber and a large clip of eight more. She fought hard not to curse in front of the holy man and settled on, “Bloody hell!”
Murphy’s axe crashed through the barrier. Angelo pushed the weakened wall inward. Angelo raised a wing to guard his face from the noxious fumes that rolled out of the chamber. He didn’t notice the metal centipede as it rolled past him and into the room. It reached the middle, formed into a ball and did what it was programed to do. It filmed in three spectrums.
“Burt, I’m seeing five stacked bodies. One female and four males. The female is, oh my god, turning her head. She’s the source,” Cid reported.
Mia, who was still listening in on her com, put a hand on Father Santos to stop him. “Father, there are five bodies down there, a woman and four men. One of those men is Arnaud Dufour. I suspect the woman is Anne Reliford, and her husband could be one of the men. I’m guessing amongst them is a military man named Stanley, and the final body, I think, could be his sergeant at arms.”
“Give me the short story,” Father Santos asked, preparing himself.
“Anne must have been having an affair or perhaps was just enamored with Arnaud. Her husband knew of the affair, but whether he planned on doing something about it, I don’t know. Stanley arrived at the party with his sergeant. That’s as far as we got when the ghosts took Ted.”
“What is that metal thing that crawled into the excavation?”
“It’s a robotic ghost hunter I call Curly. It’s just supposed to reach hard places and film.”
“Who’s controlling it? Cid?”
“No, I think Jake’s controlling Curly.”
“Who’s Jake? Is he new? Have I met him?”
“He’s a ghost in the computer,” Mia sai
d lamely. “We know how he got in there but doubt we can control him.”
“Let’s hope he’s on our side,” Santos said and started down the excavated stairs.
Murphy pushed Angelo back and took a spectral bullet to the thigh. The woman moved, oblivious to the state of her long dead body. She reloaded the small pistol and took aim and fired again. This time the bullet bounced off Murphy’s axe blade.
“Who the hell is shooting in here?” Mia demanded, bursting through the doorway. “Kiss the floor, fellows!” she ordered.
Angelo and Murphy hit the deck, and Mia took aim and fired on the animated corpse. “Take that, bitch. That’s for Ted, and this,” Mia shot again, enjoying the screams coming from the ghost, “is for daring to mess with PEEPs.”
Mia felt the gun cycle, ejecting the old shells as it loaded the new ones into the chambers. She cocked the gun, sending the shells into place. The corpse did seem to be moving, but it was difficult to see in the gloom. Mia took out a few light discs and placed them as she walked.
The body of the woman had so many salt pellet holes in it that, if it weren’t for the off-the-shoulder dress, Mia would not have been able to identify her.
“It’s Anne Reliford.” She walked over to the man lying with his arms crossed, and she squinted, nodding. “This is Arnaud. I think he’s a good guy. That’s Stanley, the effing son of a bitch that…”
“Mia!” Santos scolded. “Language!”
“He’s the chap that came uninvited to the ball along with this man. The man over there facing the wall is…” She walked over and gently moved him onto his back. There was a bullet wound in his forehead. “Bennington Reliford, poor guy.”
They heard a rustling, and Mia turned, taking aim at Anne’s corpse. But it wasn’t the source of the noise. Curly worked his way up Mia’s leg, circled her body and settled around her waist.
“I think you can leave the body bagging to us, Mia,” Father Santos said. “Burt Hicks, put that flamethrower down before you hurt someone.”
“Santos? Oh my lord, it’s you.” Burt lowered the flamethrower and rushed over and picked up the priest and hugged him. “We thought you were dead.”
“I fear - to misquote my friend Mark Twain - the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Mia strode through the ER looking for what was left of her husband. Doctor Walters looked up from the chart he was gazing at and said, “He’s in the PEEPs cubicle, two down on your right.”
The comment made Mia cringe, but she soon forgot it when she saw Ted sitting up in the ER bed, sipping on a juice box.
“Well, lookie lookie what the cat dragged in,” he said. “What happened to your hair?”
“Curly got tangled in it. Ralph’s going to dismantle it bit by bit for making me look like David Bowie in Labyrinth.”
“You can wear my hat,” he said, pointing to the discarded clothing folded neatly on the chair beside him. “But enough about you…”
Mia pulled the curtain around until they had more privacy. She leaned over the bed and kissed all the parts that weren’t bruised that she could see.
“Careful, my dear, you’re going to, nope, too late,” Ted said.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, but things got a little hairy at the investigation.”
“I remember seeing Father Santos and Angelo arrive.”
“That SOB Angelo pulled me out of danger and put me on the roof.”
“Nobody puts baby on the roof,” Ted growled, patting the bed beside him.
Mia looked at her filthy mud-caked clothes and declined. “Walters would have a fit.”
The curtains were pulled back, and there stood the good doctor flanked by a set of mini docs.
“Here we have a white male in his thirties presenting with…”
Mia watched as the doctor listed Ted’s injuries, the results of the x-rays, and played what is the treatment with the newly minted white-coats.
“… and find the missus a set of clean scrubs to wear. She’s one of our frequent flyers.”
Mia wrinkled her face as she tried to keep from saying anything that would be considered disrespectful.
Doctor Walters looked at her and smiled. “Get a urine sample from her. I suspect she’s got a bun in the oven. Let’s make it official.”
~
Please, if you are reading this account of the summer’s ball for the first time, be kind with your judgment.
Mindy looked at the other’s around the conference table. “Do you want me to continue?”
“Please,” Audrey said.
Arnaud Dufour was a dear friend. He left France to escape his creditors, and he was staying with us until he found his footing. Étienne warned me of how it would look to others with Arnaud staying here, but I’m not one for convention, am I?
He began his affair with Anne R. after the Oberweis picnic. He knew she was married, but her appetite in the bedroom wasn’t ever satisfied by poor Bennington. Unfortunately for Arnaud, her appetite wasn’t sated with just him either. She had taken up with a Captain Stanley too, and she had him wrapped around her finger. He was a dangerous man. Anne liked dangerous men.
Arnaud came to me with his worries over Anne and their complex involvement. I entreated him to break it off with her. She couldn’t further his solvency, as her money was under the firm grasp of Bennington’s lawyers, so why prolong the painful affair? Furthermore, the captain was known to visit the harbor girls; how long before he passed disease to Anne and from her to Arnaud?
And so he broke it off with her. Anne’s ego was crushed. How dare a man leave her! She pursued Arnaud until he was ragged with worry. I agreed to talk to her and had planned to do so at the ball.
There could not have been a better night for it. A cool breeze wafted through the ballroom, bringing with it the scent of flowers. Étienne and my family were there as were some of the most influential people of our small community. I had no scarcity of partners, and as the drinks flowed, the company became more and more boisterous. Everyone was having fun, everyone but Arnaud who had words with Anne earlier in the foyer. In a move to avoid conversation with the woman, he brushed by her, but she grabbed his coat. She pulled him to her and whispered something so vile in his ear that it took him two glasses of wine to settle down after.
The music for a waltz was played, and we began to dance. That’s when Stanley arrived. He wasn’t invited. He was not a friend of this house. He had brought with him another military man. They pulled Arnaud from the dance floor, declaring that they were going to send him back to France to face his creditors.
Étienne intervened, and we managed to move the men outside, out of the hearing of the curious partygoers. I motioned for the music to continue before I followed the men outside. Stanley was resolute in collecting Arnaud. I suggested that this matter could be dealt with in the morning hours and that he and his sergeant were to leave my property, pronto.
That’s when Anne arrived. She walked over and slapped Arnaud and told him that his life was over. That no one left her. No one left alive!
As fate would have it, that is when poor Bennington walked out onto the patio. He had heard his wife’s boasts and was enraged. He took a firm hold of Anne’s arm and declared that it was time for them to go.
Anne pulled her arm away and pushed her husband to the ground. Arnaud moved to help the man up. Anne pulled a pistol out of her reticule. She turned and shot her husband in the forehead. He lay crumpled on the ground. She then turned to me and said, “This is how you end an affair,” and shot Arnaud.
Stanley laughed and pulled out one of his pistols. “I suppose it’s my turn,” he said, pointing the gun at Anne. She moved towards him saucily. She put her hand on his face and kissed him.
He dropped his gun. Anne stooped and picked it up as if she were to hand it back. But she turned it on him.
His sergeant lunged for Anne, and there was a scuffle. I was bent over Arnaud as if my body could stop death
from taking him. I did not see the rest. My brother told me that Anne managed to shoot Stanley before she was pulled away. The sergeant held the screaming and kicking woman with much difficulty. Stanley pulled out his second pistol and aimed the gun at her and shot twice. The first bullet found its target, and the second killed his sergeant.
The patio was awash with blood. Étienne pulled me away from Arnaud and told me to make sure the party continued. I took off my sopping slippers and walked boldly into the ballroom and suggested the ladies relieve themselves of their shoes and we dance like the natives do.
Étienne and my brothers put the bodies of Arnaud and the others in the icehouse under the stables. Captain Stanley lived for an hour more, and then he too was placed there. After the last guest had left, I drew my family around me and told them we would probably not survive the scandal. Étienne declared it was not our fault, so why should we lose all we had struggled for?
So I let it happen. Arnaud and the others were sealed in the icehouse. The door was bricked up and the staircase buried. They lie there still.
Mindy looked up. Do you want me to go on? There isn’t anything more about the bodies, just day-to-day things, some gossip and this ring. Inside are the initials A D. I gather it’s Arnaud’s.”
“I can see how they were able to cover up Arnaud’s disappearance. The partygoers saw him being arrested and taken away. But the Relifords were a prominent family,” Audrey pointed out. “They couldn’t just be swept under Marilee’s carpet.”
“You need to dig deeper, I fear,” Father Santos advised. “Perhaps the heir declared them missing. Anne’s activities could have been common knowledge. Perhaps the family was happy to see an end to her and Bennington.”
“A lot of conjecture,” Mike said. “But what we need to talk about now is, that those bodies need to be laid to rest. Angelo and Murphy have weakened them, but Stanley and his man refuse to stay down. Mia may have taken the snot out of Anne, but she too will rise again,” he warned.
