The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Mia felt a bit self-conscious dressed in the clothes Whit brought to hospital with him. It wasn’t the items he chose that creeped her out, it was the violation of his commandeering her truck and her home. She knew that this feeling was unreasonable, but still she couldn’t shake it. Living independently for most of her life had instilled a sense of pride and confidence she didn’t want stripped away.

  M&Ms went over the cautionary paperwork with her while Whit went for the car.

  “Now don’t hesitate to call us. We’ll give your new phone number a call this evening and tomorrow morning to check on your progress.”

  “Thank you,” Mia said, although she was a bit confused. Did the nurse say “new” phone number? Whit drove up, and she got out of the wheelchair and into his sedan.

  Whit handed her a pair of oversized sunglasses he no doubt nicked from a cataract patient. She pulled the visor down, and the mirror on its back reflected a barely marred young woman. She tugged the turtleneck up over the bruises and sighed.

  “You look beautiful. I had no idea how much a good head bashing could do for one’s looks.”

  Mia laughed and looked around the car for her mini-pack and found it on the floor. Looking inside, she found her wallet, an unfamiliar pink phone, hair comb and a small pearl-handled revolver.

  “Holy shit, Whit, a gun. Are you out of your mind?”

  “You’re going to be on your own in Chicago. I know you know how to fire one or at least a paintball replica. I remember you were quite fierce when we were in Walther League.”

  “We were sixteen. Whose is it?”

  “Sherry’s.”

  “Why don’t I feel better hearing that? What happened to my phone?”

  “I could lie to you and say it was destroyed, but I won’t. Tom and I got to talking. He didn’t want those PEEPs people hounding you. So I had a line added to my account, gave the number to Tom, the hospital and your parents.”

  “Where’s my phone?”

  “At your house on your desk.”

  “Whit, I’m feeling very uncomfortable with this. I feel like I’ve been shanghaied. New phone, new address, and I should be furious...”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  “I guess it’s because I’ve been taking care of myself for such a long time and look where it’s gotten me, beat up with one white-light experience under my belt. Maybe I start listening, and I’ll see my next birthday.” Mia eased back and dialed her phone to get her messages.

  “Won’t work. I changed the code.”

  “Now I’m mad.”

  “That was Tom’s idea. I didn’t think you would call, he said you would. I owe the turkey ten bucks. I was almost convinced by your little speech, but I wouldn’t want you to change. There’s being safe, and there’s being Mia.”

  Mia checked out the contact list in the cell. Whit was on speed dial number one. She started laughing. He was taking no chances. Tom was number two, her parents three, and the hospital number four. She played around until she found a good ringtone.

  “Whose idea was the pink phone?”

  “Mine, reminds me of your towels. They had a juicy one, but I thought that would just be mean.”

  “Yep.”

  “Before you ask, the box is in the back with the gloves and a case of salt. I locked up your house.”

  “Thank you for doing this. I’m a bit lost right now. Notice how my parents came through in a pinch.”

  “They did loan you the condo.”

  “How generous. Did they give you directions?”

  “No, I Googled it.”

  “Smart man, because I can barely keep my eyes open.” Mia shut her eyes and let the drug residue lull her into a deep dreamless sleep.

  ~

  Burt, Mike, Beth and Ted arrived at April’s. Beth had the option to leave but chose to stay a few more days. This was her chance to show the rest of PEEPs that she was an important part of the team, and, yes, now that Amber was locked up, maybe she would get some face time on camera.

  Burt called the hospital and found that Mia had been discharged. She wasn’t picking up her phone nor was she checking her messages as the box was full. All he could do was try periodically to see if he got lucky and she picked up.

  He knew that tomorrow Whit would leave to escort his wife’s remains home to her family out east somewhere. Mia would no doubt surface at that time. He heard via the grapevine that she sustained some pretty bad blows to her face. She probably was hiding out until they healed.

  They checked out the interior camera, changing batteries where needed. Burt noticed an emptiness he hadn’t felt before when he first entered the house. The cellar, however, proved to be still heady with atmosphere. Each corner was examined and scaffolding erected in order to work on the door to the kitchen.

  Beth and Ted took turns in the command post and manning the handheld camera. Infrared pictures were taken with the hope of catching Murphy. They also rotated in order to have enough film to edit into their last of the thirteen episodes to present to the network.

  By the time the four were packed up, they were tired and discouraged.

  Mike looked around the house one last time. “I think this place is played out.”

  “Could be,” Burt agreed.

  “What about Cold Creek Hollow? What say we take a trip over there tomorrow?”

  “We’d need permission...”

  “Nope, better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Mike smiled. “As long as the Sheriff’s Department isn’t on the premises we should have no trouble out there.”

  “We’d be taking a big risk if something did happen,” Burt cautioned.

  “But if we got actual film of an apparition, it would all be worth it. That combined with a possessed team member...”

  “I see where you’re going with this,” Burt winced.

  “The publicity would be a dream come true. People would be comparing everyone else to PEEPs.”

  Burt thought he would also be going against Mia’s cautions regarding the hollow. But he and Mia were no more as far as he could see.

  “Tomorrow, let’s scout it out first before bringing Ted and Beth out there,” Burt suggested. “You know, baby steps.”

  “Okay, Grandma, baby steps,” Mike agreed.

  ~

  Whit was surprised at the difficulty he had in finding a parking space, considering that the school was on spring break. The Coopers owned half the top floor of a converted Brownstone. It resided near the campus on a maple-shaded street.

  “I think the sports teams are here to participate in camps,” Mia explained. “There’s one,” she pointed out a car just starting to ease out into the street four cars ahead.

  “Sharp eyes,” he complimented her. “What did your parents do during term?”

  “They parked in an indoor garage just outside of the city. With the mass transit here, you really don’t need a car.”

  “I couldn’t exist without my car or your truck for that matter. I sure enjoyed using it.”

  “Problem with having a truck is, everyone calls you on moving day,” Mia said, gathering her belongings.

  Whit tossed a small duffle he had filled full of clothes to Mia to carry. He took a suitcase under one arm and the box under the other. It was a two block walk, and by the time they reached the building, Whit’s arms felt like they were breaking.

  Mia knocked on the basement apartment’s door. It was answered by a burly no-nonsense man in his fifties. “Well, look here, Ma, it’s little Mia Cooper.”

  “Does she have her boyfriend with her?” asked a whisky voice from somewhere in the interior of the place.

  “Ya, she does. Here, son, give that suitcase to me.” The man grabbed the case and dug into his pocket and came up with a set of keys. “Follow me, kids, and watch the fourth step. It’s developed a wobble.”

  Whit now had two hands around the cloth-wrapped box. He nodded for Mia to go next, and he would bring up the rear.


  “Now the missus has filled the fridge with milk, eggs, butter and whatnot. I left Antonio’s Market’s number on the table in case there is anything else you may need. He delivers every day except Sunday from ten till eight.” He stopped in front of the door, inserted the key and pushed it open. “Kind of musty in there still. But you know your father and all his books...”

  “Yep, place is a regular dust mite haven.”

  “Dust mite haven,” chuckled the super. “Gotta tell that one to the wife.”

  Mia walked into the familiar surroundings of stacked books and worn furniture. She placed her stuff on the hall table and took the box from Whit. She walked it into the small kitchen and placed it on the table.

  “Thank your wife, the kitchen shines, and I know my parents probably left it a mess.”

  The super elbowed Whit. “She knows her parents. I never met two people more suited to the book life than those two. Not a domestic bone in their bodies. They never had a television, probably wouldn’t even have a kitchen unless it came with the place. One time Ma found these odd bones in the fridge, right. She thought they were for a soup. Turned out they were human, Cree Indians. Can you imagine the soup that would make?” He roared with laughter.

  Whit liked this talkative man. He knew that he and the “missus” would keep an eye on Mia.

  After he left, Mia and Whit spent time exploring the kitchen. The super’s missus stocked the fridge with dairy, vegetables and meat. The freezer had an assortment of frozen meals. “All that’s missing is...” Mia started.

  “Fresh baked cookies in the Tupperware on the counter!” Whit exclaimed as he dug his mitt into the assortment of chocolate chip and sugar cookies. “I want to stake my claim on the missus if the super kicks off,” he said with his mouth full of cookies.

  Mia put her hands together and thanked God for the simple pleasures and for homemade cookies. She hadn’t seen Whit so happy in days.

  “Well, I won’t have to worry about you losing any more weight while I’m gone,” Whit said.

  “Nope, I’ll probably be fine,” Mia said as she walked around the living space. “Plenty to read,” she snorted.

  Whit looked around at the floor to ceiling shelves. The books weren’t in any order that he could tell. “You’d think they’d be alphabetized or something.”

  Mia knew better but held her tongue.

  He checked out the bedroom and found fresh linen on the big bed. The bathroom sink had running water, and the toilet flushed. The place had a small iron balcony facing the rear garden. His eyes grew wide. “I didn’t think, are there dead people in here?”

  Mia smiled. “A lot of bones but no spirits that I can see. But if I get lonely for Murphy there’s a fireman that is hanging out on the stoop three houses down.”

  “Stay away from him. I wouldn’t mess around by making Murphy jealous,” Whit said sagely.

  “Good advice.”

  Whit looked at his watch. “I got to go. I’m going to meet the undertaker at O’Hare early. I booked a room nearby.”

  “Call me when you get in your room?” Mia asked.

  Whit walked over and hugged her. “Take care of yourself. Try to forgive me for strong-arming you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself. The next few days, let your mom and dad help. Call me a lot. I’ll feel better knowing you’re alright.” Mia held on a few moments more before releasing him.

  Whit looked down at her a minute before he turned to leave. Mia grabbed the keys that the super had left and followed him down the stairs and out onto the stoop to see him off.

  He strode purposefully in the direction of his car, stopping briefly and pointing to the stoop.

  Mia nodded.

  “Keep your hands off her. She’s taken,” he said to the air in front of him which surprised the entity sitting there. It also surprised the girl Whit was warning him about.

  Whit waved over his shoulder and shouted for her to go in, it was getting cold.

  Mia watched until he was gone before she climbed the steps and went in.

  “Nice fella,” the whisky voice said from the open doorway as she passed by.

  “Yes, he is. He loved the cookies. Told me if you ever want to dump the hubby, he wants to be first in line.”

  “Tell him, done and done.” The woman closed the door, and Mia continued on her way up to the Cooper’s apartment.

  The Brownstone was filled with smells. Furniture polish mixed with yesterday’s sauerkraut and brats. She didn’t know who else lived in the building anymore. She suspected academics as the building lacked the attention house-proud people would give it.

  This made her think of April Johnston. She wondered how she was holding up. Whit told her on the way over that she had left the house in the hands of PEEPs and had moved in with some relatives. She approved of April leaving but not of letting the group continue to mess around in the hollow.

  She unlocked the door and locked it again behind her. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a saltshaker and poured a thin line in front of the door. She did the same thing for every opening to the outside she could find. Mia put on every light in the place, trying to warm up the coldness of the book-lined rooms.

  The box sat on the round kitchen table. As she approached it, she saw that Whit had encircled it with salt. This brought tears to her eyes. “This will wait until tomorrow,” she told herself. She continued to inspect the house, stopping in the little room off the main hall.

  Her mother’s desk dominated the room. Mia could see the cigarette burns on the edge of the desk from forgotten tobacco products over the years. It really was a miracle Amanda Cooper hadn’t developed lung cancer or burned down a house by now. If it weren’t for her adoring husband Charles, she would certainly starve. Amanda, once in the muse, could not be interrupted by anyone, especially a child needing comfort.

  Mia reached in and shut the door on the room, and on her mother.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The unfamiliar sounds of the environmental engineers working brought Mia out of a deep sleep. It took a moment to figure out that she was in Chicago, her father’s apartment near the college, and still in yesterday’s clothes. She remembered the quick, “I have arrived,” phone call from Whit, the, “don’t forget to take your pills,” tag on the end of the call, and the loneliness she felt when he hung up.

  Mia dragged her sorry ass out of bed and into the bathroom where she ran the water for a shower. It took a few minutes for the water to heat up which gave her plenty of time to start the coffee and find something to wear. She grabbed the suitcase and hauled it into the bedroom and onto the bed. She opened it and saw, much to her relief, her own clothes, although Whit had also packed the hot pink sweat suit. She hoped she wouldn’t be here long enough to need it. Grabbing her undergarments, she tried to stop the shudder that came from the thought that Whit had packed her clothes, ergo Whit had gone through her underwear.

  The water ran down her skin and stung the abrasions left there by strong hands and hard floor. “I really, really, have to learn to keep to my own business,” Mia scolded herself.

  She thought about Burt, this time without anger. The distance gave her a perspective that was illuminating. He really didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t wake up in the morning and say, “How can I manage to piss Mia off?” He didn’t encourage Amber into a possessed state or yell atta girl when she had successfully bested Mia on the bathroom floor.

  “Damn,” she cursed. “I better apologize. But not right now. First, coffee.”

  ~

  Burt rolled over and squinted at the clock. Six thirty. It was too early for breakfast but too late to fall back asleep. His dreams sucked anyway. Amber was doing a strip tease in a jail cell, and Mike was selling tickets. Mia lay crumpled on the ground with tire tracks on her body. Amber looked over her and smiled. “Don’t worry, hun, she got in your way.” He moved to the broken woman and was blocked by an axe crashing down in front of him, spli
tting the very earth on which he stood. He teetered and fell but was caught by a tiny hand. He woke up at this point in the dream but knew the hand belonged to Mia.

  ~

  Whit watched as the box containing Sherry was loaded onto the plane. He hoped that this would bring her peace. She always wanted to be near her parents and now... He brushed the tear away from his face. He opened his phone to make one last phone call before he began his ordeal.

  “Hello,” her voice was friendly but tired.

  “Bad night?” he asked.

  “I think it’s pill residue. How are you doing?”

  “Her coffin’s aboard, and soon I will have to board the plane. Just thought I would give you a call. Don’t know when the next time will be.”

  “You just concentrate on Sherry and your parents. Also, you may want to get your life in order as the super’s missus is dumping her hubby for you.”

  “Really? Must be my devastating good looks.”

  “And modesty,” Mia added. “Seriously, take your time. Don’t you dare worry about me. I may go to Lincoln Park today. I feel like a chat with a polar bear.”

  “Stay out of the cage. Remember last time,” Whit said, enjoying the farce.

  “I thought it was the bathroom. Call when you need to. I’ll be here.” Mia hung up.

  “Not much on goodbyes,” Whit muttered.

  ~

  Murphy was up at the crack of dawn. He went about his tasks of cutting down trees, chopping and stacking wood. He fell in and out of time, not really caring. He sensed that something was missing but couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge what it was.

  The investigators had spent a lot of time in the cellar but came out with nothing. They didn’t notice the south wall. Of course they weren’t looking for a tomb. Or were they?

  ~

  Mia settled down with coffee and cookies after pulling the top two bundles out of the box. She continued to read the reverend’s account of moving out to the hollow. He appreciated the high salary the Blackwell’s had given him. He was, however, not too chuffed to find out the residents of the hollow seemed to think he was their personal confessor. She wasn’t surprised by this mercenary approach to his job but was still rather put off by it.