Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!”
“Sam!” Max grabbed for him, but Sam lurched away from Max and barreled into me, half-knocking me back before running down the stairs and away.
Max jerked forward to catch me before I fell down the wide country stone steps as well, and we both turned to watch Sam race toward one of the huge barns that stood, doors open, at the far end of the yard.
When Max didn’t shout after the kid again, I squinted at him. “Does he, um, do that a lot? Or is that a normal kid thing?”
Max sighed, then seemed to realize he still had his hand on my arm and pulled away, grimacing. “I guess it depends on context. A year ago, I would say a normal kid thing. A year ago, though, this place was different.” He peered up at the building beside us. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
He spoke in a low tone, almost a whisper, and I glanced up as well. I really felt like I should have some sort of monitoring equipment on me and regretted not checking out more paranormal ghost-hunting stuff. Then again, Mordechai never needed any of that.
You don’t need it either.
While I appreciated the vote of confidence, given the source was a monster, I didn’t put too much stock in it.
I’d spent so long following Mordechai’s lead that I wasn’t sure exactly how this whole psychic investigation actually worked.
But Max was waiting for an answer, so I dutifully narrowed my eyes at the old, stately home. “I feel like it’s a little off, yeah.”
His smile was mirthless. “A little. Is that all?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. A check, I realized. Just like that. He handed it to me, and I felt the most curious urge to stuff it in my pants and run like hell.
Instead, I waved it at him. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Coming out here is something. Getting people to do even that has become nearly impossible.” His gaze on me hardened a little.
“Rabbi Mordechai sounded like he was willing to help, which is a hell of a lot further than I got with the local priests. Or in Chicago. They gave me some prayers—prayers.” He curled his lip. “We’re way beyond that.”
I frowned at him. “So your first stop was the Catholic Church? And they turned you down?” It didn’t seem like they should be allowed to do that, but I didn’t know all the rules of Catholicism, despite my tenure at All Souls.
Oddly enough, proper techniques for exorcisms had never come up in religion class.
“They kept passing the buck,” he said, disgust heavy in his voice. “The local priest here—a guy who actually knows my family—he tried to help. He came out to the house and prayed over it. Of course, nothing creepy bothered him while he did it, but it didn’t actually accomplish anything.”
I squinted at him. “What do you mean, nothing bothered him?”
He shrugged. “The things that happen here…they seemed tuned to us, specifically. To mock us. The worst thing they could do was not show up when we finally got help, and so, that’s what happened.”
His voice sounded unbearably tired, and I knew what he was thinking. Who knew if the evil lurking here would show itself to me, either?
Oh, it will.
A wave of uneasiness flickered through me, equal parts cold dread and giddy excitement, but fortunately, Max didn’t seem to notice.
“Then in Chicago, they referred me to their local priest and asked about my own religious practices, like that had anything to do with anything. Suggested I talk to the cops, as if I didn’t have to do that already when all the horses were shot.”
I felt his words hitting me too fast, too hard. I wasn’t sure where to focus. “That happened this past winter?”
“Wasn’t really even winter anymore, it was March.
It’d been really cold for a long stretch of days, and we’d gotten a lot more snow than we had in years past. The local cops told me they thought my father had gotten a little turned around.
” He glanced at me. “It’s not a crime, you know.
Killing your own livestock. It felt like a crime, but it wasn’t. ”
“And is that, ah, the biggest thing that happened? Anything since then?”
He shook his head. “I took a leave of absence from work and came home in April. That’s when the Bells left, our housekeeper and her husband.
They took care of the horses. Which were dead, so…
I let them go with an extra year’s pay for sticking with us so long.
” His voice was bitter. “The Bells had been with the family for more than twenty years, since before I was born. They were—are—such good people. But I couldn’t keep them here.
Not when everything had gotten so bad, so quickly. ”
He looked past me to where Sam had disappeared into the barn. I followed his line of sight. “Is he okay in there?”
“Yeah. Nothing in there anymore that’s any different from inside the house. He doesn’t usually hurt himself too badly.”
Too badly? What did that even mean?
Max waved around. “The official tour is pretty basic. We’ve got the main house, here, then two other houses on the property.
The Bells’ house is empty now, but not abandoned, really.
They left their stuff, saying they wanted to come back once they could.
Once I let them. The other house is more of a lake cottage out back past the woods. ”
“Anyone live in the lake cottage? Like, full-time?” I didn’t know why I asked the question, but Max’s glance told me it was the right one.
“Yeah. My sister’s old boyfriend, Joe Bell.
He’s twenty-six now, works odd jobs for Dad, clears the property and trims trees, stuff like that.
But he keeps to himself. He went through a lot when he and my sister broke up, and Dad sort of took pity on him and rented the place out to him.
He can come and go as he wants—there’s a separate road to the place.
I doubt we’ll see him while you’re here. He’s harmless.”
Nothing about this place felt harmless to me. It was time to come clean.
“Max, I can’t do a lot, but I can do what you asked me to do, at least.” The obligation of his money dragged on me, pulling me under like a riptide.
“I can write up a visit here as if Rabbi Mordechai had been here. Like he had seen this place before he died. And then you could go back to the Catholic people or find another rabbi, someone who would take your case because it was already, you know, vetted.”
He sagged a little, though I didn’t understand why. “Can’t you do something yourself?”
Panic zipped through me. “No, Max. Do I look like a rabbi to you? Or a Catholic priest? I was Rabbi Mordechai’s assistant.”
“But that woman—”
“Fuck Mrs. Klein.” I was getting truly angry now, but I couldn’t help it.
The house seemed to loom over me, pressing on every nerve.
I wanted out of there, but I wanted to prove I was stronger than any kind of demon filth.
Needed it, like a choking man needed air.
“This is the deal. I’ll go through the house with you to get the details, then fake a pre-death meeting between you and Mordechai, write it up and forge the rabbi’s name, and you can do with that whatever you want.
But that’s it, Max. If that’s not enough, you can take your money back, and I’ll leave right now. ”
“No.” Max reached out, stopping himself before he grabbed my arm again.
I didn’t flinch back, but I had to fight not to flee down the steps, and clearly, he realized it.
“Don’t go. That’s fine.” He pulled his arm back awkwardly, brushing a hand through his hair.
“It’s fine. I guess we should get started then. ”
He turned to the front door, and we heard another childish scream.
This one seemed strangely normal though, as if I was already getting used to Sam and his outbursts.
Now the little boy stood at the edge of the open doorway to the barn, staring up at the house.
He clenched his fists into little boy rage and stood stiff as a tree trunk.
Even from this distance, I could see him practically vibrating with fury.
“No!” he yelled, then tried again, this time stretching out the word in one long, protracted wail. “Nooooo!”
Max turned back to me. “I guess you have a fan.”
I managed a lopsided grin. “Kids are my specialty.”
We walked into the house. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a light and bright farmhouse with wide windows and airy spaces.
The walls were all painted in soft pastels, and the floors were hardwood, covered for the most part by huge cream-colored rugs, some with faded patterns, some more modern.
The house seemed empty, but not abandoned.
More…waiting for a chance to strike. Like a ghoul hiding behind a butterfly bush.
“You and Sam live here alone, now?” I asked, just to break the silence. “The others all left?”
Max snorted a short laugh. “Oh, God no,” he said. “Everyone’s waiting for you to take the tour, then we’ll talk a little on the back porch.”
I stared at him. “Your family knows why I’m here?”
He glanced down at me. He seemed taller in the house than he had outside. “I told them you were coming, and why, yes. When they’re fine, they’re fine. They’re open to finding out answers too.”
“Oh. I mean, sure.” I smiled brightly. “Of course they are.”
Max took me through the entire house, which looked eerily similar to my own place in one distinct way: how clean it was. “You said the housekeeper moved out?”
“In April, yeah. I have a service that comes out once a week, or I did until this past week. Then even that…” He shrugged. “Something happened, I don’t know what. But the service called and left a voicemail. Said they wouldn’t be able to come back. That I didn’t owe them for the remaining visits.”
“That’s why you came to see Mordechai in person.”
His jaw tightened. “It’s going to get out. Someone’s going to talk, and I thought if I handled it—if it was taken care of…” He stopped, shook his head as his gaze shifted to the far wall, as if seeing all the way out to the back porch. “I have to fix this, somehow.”
He led me up the grand staircase. Half the doors to the upstairs rooms were closed. Max opened them without hesitation, but the rooms inside were as tidy as the rest of the house. All except one room, anyway. I knew something was up by the way Max opened the door.
I looked inside, seeing the issue immediately.
The guest bathroom was spotless except for the mirror.
Someone had written MISS ME? in dusky red ink on the glass, then scrubbed at it—the words were faded but still legible.
“This was two weeks ago,” Max said flatly.
“I keep cleaning it. It keeps coming back. That’s when I decided to contact Rabbi Mordechai.
I didn’t want to think about what might get written next. ”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I get that.”
He gestured down the hallway. “My room’s down there. It’s messy, but ordinary messy. Sam’s been staying with me. It seems to chill him out, but he doesn’t like me to straighten up.” His smile was crooked, the first normal-guy smile I’d seen on him. “I figure it’s one less room to clean now.”
I nodded. So Max was the one who kept the place clean. Made sense. “Where did he sleep before?”
Max headed down the hallway, where another door stood half open. That seemed to bother him. “I thought…”
He pushed the door open all the way and stepped back. “Sam’s room. I’m sorry about the state it’s in, but I wanted to keep it the way it was—so that you could see it. I’ve taken pictures, and I’ll clean it all up afterwards. I just…I just wanted someone to see it.”
I swallowed down my sense of revulsion and stepped inside.
Oh…shit.
Literally.