The must have been talking about Allison.
“Don’t push it,” warned the janitor.
“You’re the one that knew Bobby Joe,” spouted the mystery man, “Didn’t he tell you anything?”
“Only a name,” said the Janitor. “But not a location. No one knows what was done with it.”
“A lot of good you are.”
The janitor punched the shadowed man. “Don’t forget, if it wasn’t for me, you’d be back behind bars. I am the one that got us here. Remember that.”
The mystery man rubbed his face a bit. I guessed that he was probably glaring at the guy that smacked him. But who were they? Could the one in shadow be the ginger haired guy? I thought he had left, but he could have easily snuck down here unnoticed.
I leaned forward a bit for a closer look wanting desperately to catch a glimpse of the guy. Big mistake. I lost my balance and in the effort to keep from falling, kicked an aluminum can sending it skittering across the concrete floor. I would have been better served by carrying a megaphone announcing our presence.
“Shut up,” said the janitor.
He moved over to where we hid.
The three of us ran down the hallway and to the stairs before being discovered. Too late.
“Hey!”
I kept running.
“Hey!”
Jackie screamed. I whipped around. The janitor had caught her by the arm and held on firmly. Greg rushed over to her throwing the man off.
“Get off her,” he yelled.
“What are you three doing down here?” demanded the janitor.
“We could ask the same of you,” replied Greg.
“I work here.” The janitor’s black skin glistened with sweat. His angry expression told me that we had done more than interrupt his conversation.
“Who was that man you were talking with?” asked Greg.
Too pushy, Greg. Way too pushy. The janitor thought so too.
“That is none of your business. My friends are not your concern. Now tell me what you are doing down here before I call the cops.”
A bit late for that since Detective Shorts was up in the main part of the church.
“We got a bit lost,” I said.
The janitor eyed me doubtfully. As I replayed my lie in my head, even I didn’t believe it. Time to think and think fast.
“We’re looking for the restrooms and someone pointed us down here,” I tried again, “Then we heard voices and curiosity got the better of us. I’m sorry.”
The janitor stared at me. He didn’t buy my story, I could tell that. I knew he recognized us from outside and it was obvious we had followed him. He twitched a bit. “Go on get out of here,” he said, eager to be rid of us.
Jackie, Greg, and I headed for the door that led to the outside world. We couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Once outside, we ran down the street and away from the church heading for a local café.
“That was scary,” said Jackie.
“Scarier than the Pen Mills Estate?” asked Greg.
Jackie pursed her lips. I remembered the time that we went there to snoop around well. Poor Jackie got the daylights scared out of her. Actually, we learned that there really is such a thing as a haunted house.
“Okay, so it’s the second scariest thing in my life,” said Jackie, “That guy was not pleased to find us there.”
“No kidding,” said Greg.
“He’s hiding something,” I said.
“Of course he is,” said Greg.
“No, I mean he is hiding something big. Most people get annoyed when you eavesdrop on them, but he was livid. And I know he recognized us.”
“Maybe, but, Mel, you could be reading too much into this,” said Greg.
“Who do you think that guy was that was with him?” I continued, ignoring Greg’s comment.
“Don’t know,” replied Jackie.
“Could he have been that ginger haired guy?” I asked.
“Possibly, but we couldn’t see his face,” said Jackie.
“Maybe I should dye my hair ginger and you will pay more attention to me,” teased Greg.
“Oh, stop it,” I smacked him playfully.
“Alright, you two,” said Jackie, “Before you start getting all love birdy one me, let’s find someplace to eat. And after being in a confessional earlier, I am not afraid to confess that I am starving.”
I seconded the part about getting food.
We found a place nearby that none of us had been to and gave it a try. It was a local Mexican Restaurant. The food was decent enough and filled us up.
I had no other plans for the day other than sitting around and doing nothing. Being lazy sounded like a good idea after a morning of chasing someone, hiding in a church, and then getting caught eavesdropping by a janitor. Nope, my day had been exciting enough. I wanted rest and relaxation. Unfortunately, rest and relaxation did not want me.
Tiny waited for us by the door.
“I need your help,” he said to me.
“My help?”
“Yeah, I got—I don’t know what I got, but something is at my place jumping on my bed. And there’s laughter like children’s laughter.”
I already guessed what was going on.
“Alright, let’s go,” I said.
Chapter 7
We hopped on Tiny’s bike and rode straight to his place on the other side of town. He lived in an apartment above a car repair shop.
Upon entering the apartment I had expected it to be messy, but it was surprisingly neat. A luscious couch sat in the center of the studio apartment with a small kitchenette to the side. The bed lay in the far end.
He had added personal touches. An old Harley served as a lamp in the room and a stereo shaped like a tire sat on a shelf. A plant rested in the corner by a window. I never would have guessed that the leader of a biker gang lived here. Tiny was just full of surprises.
I heard the laughter immediately. Sure enough, Sarah, Alana, and Freya jumped on the bed laughing and giggling with delight. I watched as tiny impressions appeared on the comforter and then disappeared.
“No more monkeys jumping on the bed,” they sang.
I sauntered over to the bed. “Girls,” I said.
The rocking of the bed stopped. Slowly, the three ghosts materialized. “Mellow,” they exclaimed with delight. “Come play with us.”
“I’d love to girls, but this is not my apartment. It’s Tiny’s and you scared him out of his wits.”
“But it’s fun to jump on the bed and his makes a good trampoline,” said Sarah.
I had to agree with her there. A king size, double mattress bed would make a great trampoline.
“You want to tell me why you are here?” I asked.
“We got bored at the library,” said Alana.
“Yeah. After that lady got killed there we just don’t want to be there anymore,” added Freya.
I sat on the corner of the bed. The girls circled me.
“Why are you all still there?” I asked. I really wanted to know. It just didn’t make sense.
“We don’t know where to go,” said Alana.
“Mommy told us she would pick us up after school. But school never ended and she never showed,” added Freya.
I began to get the picture. They knew they were dead, but at the same time they thought they were still part of the living. I guess that happens when you die suddenly. You know you’re dead, but it still doesn’t register completely.
“So you have been hanging out at the library waiting for your mother?” I asked.
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“It was weird. There was this loud noise and everything went white, then black. Next thing we knew, we could walk around, but no one saw us or heard us,” said Alana.
“A lot of people gathered around pulling people out of the school,” said Freya.
“After a while we figured out that we weren’t alive,” added Sarah.
“But we couldn’t leave w
ithout Mommy,” Alana piped up.
There it was. They weren’t waiting for their mother because they thought they were still at school and alive. They wanted to say good-bye. Since I had been barred from the murder case and had run out of leads, I decided to help them find their mother. “Where did you guys live?”
“On Carson Street,” said Sarah.
“58 Carson Street,” corrected Freya.
“I’ll see what I can do about finding your mother, but I make no promises,” I said. “Now, can you girls do me a favor?”
They all looked at me with wide eyes.
“First, quit bothering Tiny.”
They nodded in agreement.
“Second, I need help discovering who hurt that lady in the library. Maybe you girls could sneak around town and listen for anything pertaining to it?”
Vigorously, they nodded their heads eager to help and have something useful to do.
“And there is this janitor at the church on Church Alley—” that just sounded weird “—and I think he’s hiding something. Think maybe you could follow him?”
“Yes!” They all jumped off the bed and disappeared.
“They aren’t coming back are they?” asked Tiny.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Come on, I need to speak with Greg’s cousin.”
Within moments we were back on Tiny’s bike riding through town for the police station. Hopefully, we’d get in and out without being caught by Detective Shorts.
I strolled through the front doors and veered right for the stairwell heading to the basement where I knew Jack worked. He had recently gotten an office down there as an IT guy responsible for maintain the station’s computers and database.
I walked into his office without even knocking. Tiny followed. Sure enough, Jack sat at his computer glued to the screen. I had a sneaky suspicion that he played a game rather than working. No one is that engrossed in their job, especially one like his.
“I need your help, Jack,” I said.
He looked up at me straightening his glasses. “No.”
“It’s not a request. I really need your help.”
“I almost got in trouble getting that information for Greg. I’m not doing it.”
“But this is different.”
He stared at me.
“I will call Greg.”
“No,” said Jack again. “There is no way I am going to hack into the database that I am supposed to be protecting from hackers.”
Tiny stepped forward, flexed his muscles, and cracked his knuckles.
“What would you like me to do?” said Jack, changing his tune.
“The library used to be a school back in the fifties,” I said, “There were three girls that died when the boiler blew. I need to know their parent’s name and address.”
Jack clicked out of his game and brought up the police database. He punched in the name of the school and brought up a list of students. “Do you know their ages?”
“About six or seven.”
“Okay, that would make them about first grade. Here we go.” He brought up a picture. I spotted Freya, Sarah, and Alana right away.
“That’s them,” I said.
“Last name is Harpscoll.” He clicked more keys typing so fast I had trouble keeping up as the screen flashed from one thing to another. “Okay. Father’s name is Don. He died in 1982 and is buried in the local cemetery. The mother’s name is…Mary. She remarried in ninety-one; a Frederick Gaord. Widowed again in 2010.”
“Address?”
“Let me see. Ah, 1258 Johnston Road.”
I wrote the address down on a post-it note. “Thanks, Jack. You’re a pal.”
“Yeah, a real pal. Now will you please go?”
Voices resounded in the hallway. Tiny peeked around the corner.
“That detective is coming.”
Crap. The one thing I didn’t need. Glancing wildly about the office I noticed a window that led outside. It wasn’t very big, but looked as though I might be able to squeeze through. Hopefully Tiny could as well.
“Does that open?” I pointed to the window.
“Yeah, but it’s supposed to—”
I ran to the window and wrenched it open. Perfect. “Tiny help me.”
“I don’t think—”
“I can’t get caught here. Detective Shorts forbade me from getting involved in any more cases.”
“But you weren’t—”
“Doesn’t matter. He won’t believe me. Now give me a boost so I can get out.”
Tiny picked me up as though I weighed nothing. Wriggling and kicking I squeezed through the opening and sprawled on the grass.
“Come on,” I motioned to Tiny.
The voices came closer.
“Come on,” I said again, “If he sees you he’ll know I was here.”
Tiny eyed the small opening. It was barely big enough for me to crawl through. He lifted himself up. “OOMPH!” Tiny squirmed as best he could, but his bulky size got in the way. “I’m stuck.”
“Jack, help him.”
“What?” said Jack.
“Push him through.”
The talking neared even more.
“No. I shouldn’t be—
“Imagine what would happen if he walked in here right now,” I said, “Do you really want to explain why the leader of the local biker gang is stuck in your office window?”
That did it. Jack jumped from his chair and ran to Tiny. He winced when he considered what he’d have to do. Carefully, Jack placed his hands on Tiny’s rear end and pushed while I pulled.
“Push,” I yelled.
“I am pushing,” said Jack.
I don’t know why it happened. Maybe fate thought it would be hilarious. Right at that moment Tiny let rip the biggest fart I have ever witnessed.
“Oh my gawd,” shouted Jack, “Did you have to do that?”
“Sorry,” apologized Tiny. “I guess the window squeezed it out of me.”
“What did you eat?” said Jack.
“Hormel chili,” replied Tiny.
I shook my head. “Would you push!”
“I am,” said Jack.
Once again I pulled while Jack pushed all the while Detective Shorts’ voice drew closer. We were so going to get caught.
Finally, a huge popping and sucking sound reverberated around us as we managed to free Tiny. He crawled the rest of the way out. Quickly, we shut the window and dodged behind a bush just as Detective Shorts walked into Jack’s office.
“Let’s go,” I said after making certain that we hadn’t been spotted.
Tiny took me back home. No sign of the girls, but I wasn’t surprised. I figured my little assignment would keep them busy long enough for me to track down their mother. Now that I had an address, I needed to figure out what I would tell her without coming across as insane.
I dragged myself upstairs to where my apartment was. Jackie greeted me. “How’d it go with Tiny?”
“Okay. The three girls from the library were at his place jumping on his bed.”
“Seriously?” asked Jackie.
“Yep.”
“Why were they there?”
“One of them said that they found him funny,” I replied. “Anyway, I found out where their mother lives. Want to come?”
“Is this the ‘do you want to come with me’ or the ‘come with me or else’?”
“Your choice,” I said.
“Give me a sec and I’ll be right there. Besides, we don’t need her calling the cops on you when you tell her that you have been talking with her girls who died fifty years ago.”
“Good point. Where’s Greg?”
“He got called into work,” said Jackie.
Chapter 8
The sun hung low in the sky as Jackie and I left our apartment and headed out. We decided to swing past a fast food place for some grub before heading over. No point in showing up hungry. Besides, I was still trying to figure out what to say to the girls’ mother. How do you te
ll someone that you have talked with their dead children? I made a mental note to bring a box of Kleenex; this could be a tear jerker.
As we got back to the car with our bag of food, I spotted him: the ginger haired man. “Jackie,” I pointed him out as she unlocked the car.
“That’s him?”
“Yeah.” I put the food in the car. “Quick, let’s follow him.” I started down the street.
“Mel? Mel!” Jackie chased after me pounding the pavement with her feet in an effort to catch up. “Mel, don’t run off like that,” she puffed when she caught me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “He’s on the move again.”
Jackie and I followed the ginger haired guy. I lost count of how many times this was. He wore a suit, a very well cut suit that had clearly been tailored. He strode briskly down the walk oblivious to us following him. Either that or he didn’t care. He walked as though he had a destination to reach, but wasn’t so important that he was willing to mow people down. He acted like everyone else on an evening out. Except that he had no date. Could he be going to meet one?
He turned a corner heading up the walk to a rather large building. It looked like a standard industrial type building, reminding me of a warehouse. Though I was not aware of any warehouses in the area.
Jackie and I kept a good distance away, but not enough to lose him.
“I need to exercise more,” she whispered.
The fast walking had winded both of us.
The man paused at the well-lit entranceway. He glanced around. Jackie and I darted behind a dumpster.
“EW, said Jackie.
“Shush.”
“I got sticky stuff all over my hands. And these shoes have gum on the bottom.”
“Will you quit worrying about your clothes?”
“Well, excuse me Miss Jeans and a t-shirt.”
I looked at her. “Come on.” Quickly, I jumped out from behind the dumpster and ran for the door that the man had gone through.
“Mel, wait up,” said Jackie as she chased after me. I tugged on the handle when I reached he door. It opened. Thankful that I didn’t have to pick the lock, I went in followed by Jackie. Footsteps sounded above us.
“The stairs,” I whispered.
Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 04 - Three Little Ghosts Page 5
